//------------------------------// // The Battle of the Farms // Story: Penumbra // by Deep Pond //------------------------------// It was a dismal dawn. Under the sinister cloud-cover, a faint brightening of the dull gray sky was the only way to tell day from night. The night had been gloomy, pitch black without moon or stars. Despite this, the leadership of the defenses – primarily Twilight, McIntosh, Silver Gleam and Cloud Kicker – had worked through the night, along with a handful of dedicated unicorns and tireless pegasi, the latter of whom had ferried messages and individuals to and from Ponyville as needed. They had also brought back a few new additions, which Twilight and McIntosh had hastily incorporated into the battle plans. As the gloom brightened – as much as it was likely to do so – the ponies took their positions. At a spot halfway between the Stocks' farm and the orchard of another family was a broad hillside, terraced with what had been gardens. Two hundred earth ponies – Crimson and Russet companies, both at full strength – had churned them to muck in short order, and now stood in ordered ranks just beyond the edge of the forest that marked the beginning of the Stock farm. Here, McIntosh had decided, the ponies would have open space in which to maneuver, while the diamond dogs – larger, more numerous, and less disciplined – would have their ragged formations broken and their movement hindered by the trees. True to Applejack's predictions, fifty-two of the fifty-four earth ponies on the “lightly injured” list were fit for combat by morning, which brought the remaining three companies up to a respectable strength. They had been broken up into a score of units and scattered through the woods on either side, well ahead of the earth pony line – some on the riverbank, and some under the very eaves of the Everfree Forest. Their task was to remain hidden until the enemy made contact, then engage in hit-and-run assaults on the dogs flanks. The ponies were faster and more familiar with the terrain, and it was hoped that they could harass the dogs with relative impunity. The pegasi under Acting Lieutenant Cloud Kicker had learned a bitter lesson from their first clash with the griffins: namely, that they were evenly matched in the air. Since an even match would inevitably lead to the pegasi's defeat through weight of numbers, they had to seize any advantage available. Fortunately, they had found one, or so they hoped. Rather that attempt to maintain aerial supremacy, the pegasi – smaller, faster, and more agile than their opposites – were to remain at or below treetop level and focus their attention on harassing the dogs with dive-bombing attacks. This would force the griffins to descend among the apple trees in order to join the battle, where their larger wings and lesser maneuverability would hinder them. No specific plans had been made for the unicorns as of yet. Their showing in the first battle had been underwhelming, and Silver Gleam had not yet reported back to Twilight on any new developments. Tentatively, she decided to position them behind Crimson and Russet Companies, where they could harass the dogs from relative safety. “Greetings, my young friend Twilight! I am glad you are safe after the fight.” Twilight turned, to see a cloaked, equine figure drawing a cart, a cart heaped with bottles, sacks, and less-identifiable things. The figure threw back its hood, revealing a mohawk, blue-green eyes, and distinctive black-and-white markings. “Zecora!” Twilight hurried over as the zebra unhitched herself from her cart. “What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in the Everfree, where it's safe? Well, safer than this, anyway.” Zecora cocked her head and eyed Twilight. “You think Zecora should hide away while Ponyville faces battle this day?” “Um . . . not to be rude, but you don't live in Ponyville. I mean –” “I understand your meaning well,” the zebra interrupted. “Now hear what Zecora has to tell. When I first came her I was alone, but Ponyville is now my home. Ponies are fighting to remain free, and I will neither hide nor flee. This town has taken me to its heart, and Zecora is here to do her part.” Twilight blinked, taken aback. “That's very generous of you,” she said. “Um . . . what exactly did you have in mind?” “I have much knowledge and have walked many lands. Perhaps I can help with the battle plans.” Zecora gestured to her cartload of goods. “I come bearing poultices, salves and potions, to heal those hurt in this day's commotion. I also have certain exotic supplies, to give our foes an unpleasant surprise.” Twilight looked over the small mountain of bottles, pouches and flasks. She didn't recognize any of them. She couldn't even read the labels; they were in Zecora's neat script, but all appeared to be some sort of zebra hieroglyphs. “What do you need?” Twilight asked, deciding to leave the whole thing in Zecora's skilled hooves. “Pegasus ponies – two dozen or so – and we will give those dogs a show.” Twilight nodded and glanced about, spotting a blue pegasus mare with a yellow mane. “You – get me Lieutenant Cloud Kicker, quickly!” The pegasus nodded and darted away. Seconds later, a lavender pegasus mare with a blonde mane and tail swooped in, coming to a neat landing before Twilight and Zecora. “Lieutenant Cloud Kicker of Rainbow Company, reporting!” she snapped crisply. “Cloud Kicker, I need – wait; Rainbow Company?” Twilight eyed the pegasus, only now noting the multicolored braid of ribbons she wore tied around her head. Cloud Kicker nodded. “It seemed appropriate, after the events of yesterday.” Twilight blinked and nodded. “I need two dozen volunteers from Rainbow Company for a special mission under Zecora, here.” She gestured to the zebra, who nodded. “They must be fliers fast and strong, who will not get instructions wrong.” Cloud Kicker's eyes narrowed. “What do you have in mind?” Twilight regarded Silver Gleam, whose posture betrayed both pride and tightly-controlled excitement. Behind him stood a dozen unicorns, lead by Lyra. The mint-green unicorn was grinning excitedly. “All right,” Twilight said. “Show me what you've got.” “It was your suggestion that sparked the idea,” Silver Gleam said. “ 'A way to combine their power.' And there is one. It's a matter of two or more unicorns extending their arcanomorphic fields in such a way that –” “Can we skip to the practical applications, please?” “Oh, of course. In brief, we've figured out how one or more unicorns can lend their magical power to a single focal unicorn, who is then able to access that power as if it were their own.” He smiled tightly. “I have prepared a small demonstration.” Twilight nodded. Silver Gleam turned and gestured across the field, to where a pair of barrels had been set up perhaps fifty yards away. “First, I am going to ask Decanus Lyra to strike the barrel on the left with a lightning bolt, making the bolt as powerful as she can. She will be doing this alone, without any aid.” Twilight nodded again, and Silver turned to Lyra. “When you're ready.” Lyra took a step forward, her gaze intense. She glared at the barrel for a long moment, her horn glowing. Then, with startling suddenness, a lightning bolt speared down from the sky, striking the barrel on the edge. The barrel toppled over, smoke trickling up from a large black scorch mark. Twilight nodded. Silver held up a hoof. “Now, I will ask Lyra to repeat her attack on the other barrel, but this time with the support of the rest of her unit.” At his gesture the other unicorns formed a rough half-circle around Lyra, their horns glowing. Twilight felt the hair on her spine stand on end; eleven unicorns channeling magic together produced a considerable amount of raw magical energy. Lyra eyed the remaining barrel, her horn glowing with significantly greater intensity. Silver nodded. “Do it.” With an earsplitting boom, a monstrous lighting bolt tore down from the sky. The barrel exploded, sending shards of flaming wood and fragments of red-hot metal dozens of feet through the air. Small flames flickered in a ten-foot circle around the barrel . . . or rather, where the barrel had once been. A dead silence had fallen in the area, broken almost immediately by dozens of ponies clamoring to know what was happening, whether they were under attack, what to do. Twilight ignored them as she dropped the force bubble she had reflexively erected around herself and Silver. “Well. That was impressive.” Lyra grinned, hopping up and down with excitement. The others worse satisfied expressions, and Twilight noticed that none of them appeared particularly fatigued by the effort. She wondered how many such bolts this team of twelve could produce, and how quickly. “Yes,” Twilight continued, the possibilities tumbling through her mind. “I think the enemy is going to have quite a surprise.” The diamond dogs approached with little caution. The griffin scouts had determined the location of the Ponyville forces – though, wary of the pegasi, they had not been able to pinpoint them precisely. Still, between the curve of the Horseshoe River and the ominous bulk of the Everfree Forest, there was little choice as to their path, and little doubt as to where the ponies would try to stop them. And they would try to stop them, Sigmund thought. He had no doubt of that at all. The land ahead was forested – no, not forested. Orcharded. Although there were hedgerows and patches of woods, most of the trees were apple and other fruit-bearing varieties, growing in neat rows. This land had been farmed and tended by ponies for decades, if not longer. They know the terrain. That's an advantage that can't be ignored. The dogs were entering the orchards now, disappearing from griffin-sight beneath the canopies. As they did, Sigmund was struck by exactly how big some of those trees were. He revised his estimate up a few years; this orchard had to have been tended for more than half a century. The griffins – two hundred and fifty of them a-wing – hovered over the main body of the canine army, ready to react when contact with the enemy was made. Behind them, in the rear ranks of the army itself, walked Fallax Equa, a respectful ring of open space around her. Behind her came the ominous block of mist, holding together in defiance of all logic and crawling across the ground. Sigmund could occasionally hear noises from within, but they were too faint to determine exactly what the mist contained. Some unpleasant surprise for the ponies, he guessed. More dogs poured into the orchards. The bulk of the army had slowed to a crawl as the front ranks were forced to maneuver around trees instead of over open ground. The bank of mist, Sigmund noted, was still creeping forward, and dogs were pushing anxiously aside to get out of its way. He couldn't say he blamed them. Time passed with agonizing slowness. The griffins circled, the dogs advanced, and the mountainous block of mist continued its slow crawl. Sigmund eyed the terrain ahead, trying to guess where the dogs would make contact with their enemies. Surely they haven't abandoned this land entirely? Not after yesterday. Shouts and cries arose from the orchards, and the griffins flew forward. There, in a large clearing – a farm, actually – stood a great mass of ponies. They had set themselves up at the very edge of the orchard, forcing the dogs to fight from within the trees while the ponies had space to maneuver in the open. The noises from the tree-covered area indicated that there were more ponies there, as well. “Form up! Sky Claws pattern!” bellowed Sigmund. The Red Feathers circled the battlefield once; then a flight of thirty peeled off and dove, streaking for the clearing and the ponies. They would engage in a series of dive-bombing runs, thirty griffins at a time; for the ponies, it would be a near-continuous attack, and one almost impossible to defend against. It was what they had planned to do from the beginning, after breaking the defense of the pegasi. Wait; where are the pegasi? Sigmund had seen a scant few winged ponies, all scouts. He had anticipated another aerial battle, but the pegasus ponies had not materialized to give him one. Could they have broken and fled during the night? No. If they followed that berserker Rainbow Dash, they're not going to panic now. They're up to something. Sigmund took a moment to note that the main mass consisted entirely of earth ponies; behind them, against the farther treeline, stood several mixed clusters of ponies. A few of them seemed to consist entirely of unicorns. If they began harassing the Red Feathers, he might lose a few griffins this day, but the previous battle had showed unicorn magic to be woefully unsuited to combat. The first flight of griffins swooped towards the embattled ponies: fifty, forty, thirty yards above them. It was a flawless demonstration of aerial grace, the sort of maneuver that made the Red Feathers the elites of King Aquila. Sigmund felt a fierce pride in his heart as he watched his warriors. Twenty yards . . . And the sky opened up. Lightning bolts – crackling columns the size of trees – erupted into being, tearing through the diving griffins, accompanied by deafening cracks of thunder. Two, three bolts, and the griffins were scattered and panicking, formation broken, flapping madly to get away. Another bolt speared downwards, somehow stopping a few yards above the massed ponies, and more griffins fell. Sigmund closed his beak “Fall back!” he bellowed at the top of his voice, suiting action to words. Where in the name of the four winds had that come from? Had the ponies done it? If so, how? How could their magic have gotten so powerful, so quickly? As the Red Feathers fell back, the survivors of the ill-fated dive clawed through the sky to join them. Sigmund saw about twenty survivors, but didn't have time for a more precise count. Ten? Did the ponies really just take down ten Red Feathers with a single attack? Even if, by some miracle, only a few had died, the griffins' plan was in ruins and the enemy had a dangerously effective weapons against them. Screeches and cries came from below. A flight of pegasus ponies, fifty strong, had erupted from the trees and engaged the lower ranks of the griffins. Caught off-guard by the unexpected maneuver, several griffins fell before the ponies broke away and dove for the trees once more. Several dozen griffins pursued them, disappearing beneath the leafy branches as Sigmund roared orders for the rest to hold back. They're up to something. The sounds of battle intensified, followed quickly by another echoing crack of thunder as a lightning bolt rose out of the orchard to one side. More unicorns, Sigmund realized, hiding under the trees. The pegasi lured us in. They're smaller and faster . . . this battle favors them entirely too well. “Red Feathers!” he called. “Higher! Circle! Do not engage!” He flapped heavily, gaining several dozen yards of altitude, and circled the battlefield. The bulk of the griffins followed, those below relaying the orders to the reckless griffins who had pursued the pegasi in among the trees. Few of those reemerged. “Ready!” hissed Sugarberry, her whole body tense. The white unicorn was concealed behind a particularly large tree, her pink mane tied back to keep it out of her face. Ten other unicorns – the rest of her team – lay hidden nearby. The noise of the approaching diamond dogs grew louder. Sugarberry saw the earth ponies, similarly concealed, making small movements as they prepared themselves. The Decanus and her team were positioned behind a triple row of ponies from Yellow Company, in the hopes that this would shield them from the dogs and leave them free to exercise their magic. The mare suppressed a shiver; she had been utterly terrified during the previous days battle, and she felt no better about it today. But she couldn't leave. She just couldn't. Now the diamond dogs became visible, far to her left: a gray-brown mass of bodies shambling through the orchard. They moved with what Sugarberry thought was an appalling lack of discipline, glancing about only casually. Of course, she mused, it's not like we have that much more training. The dogs advanced, oblivious to the ponies concealed around them. Pegasi hid in the trees, and the earth ponies had proven amazingly creative when it came to finding hiding place, smearing themselves with mud and dye, and in some cases actually burying themselves under loose earth and leaves. Seconds dragged by like hours as the dogs continued on. Sugarberry felt the beginnings of a tension headache and forced herself to ignore it. As bad as this is, it's going to get worse . . . a lot worse . . . Suddenly, shouts and growls and whinnies broke out. The dogs were surging forward, and the earth ponies broke cover and charged, crashing headlong into the dogs' flanks. Cries rent the air, as ponies and dogs met and clashed; claws tore skin, hooves crushed ribs, and blood spattered on apple trees. “Channel!” Sugarberry shouted, reaching out to her team. Streams of power flowed into her, the raw magic of the other unicorns, hers to wield. She had no interest in battle-magic, she had never had any desire to hurt anyone, but by some quirk of fate she had grasped the nuances of this particular magical exercise almost immediately. As a result, Lieutenant Silver Gleam had put her in charge of this team. She gritted her teeth and wove magic as the gray unicorn had taught her, pouring it into the spell – far more power than she could ever employ on her own. She picked a spot in the middle of the mass of dogs, well clear of the earth ponies, and released the spell. Lighting crashed down, tearing branches from a nearby apple tree, and exploded into the dogs; several were hurled to the ground, scorched and stunned. Sugarberry did it again, and again. The lightning was naturally attracted to the trees, as the tallest points in the area, and the unicorn had to wrench it aside with sheer brute force and hurl it at the dogs instead. She picked her targets carefully, avoiding the edges of the fray where dogs and ponies clashed. Pegasi darted this way and that, attacking the dogs from above, trying to stay clear of their flailing arms, and occasionally pursued by a maddened griffin. Whenever one of the bird-folk appeared the pegasi swarmed it, striking mercilessly with their hooves. Here and there a pegasus was caught and dragged down to a grisly end, but Sugarberry could not think about that, could not take the time to feel grief or sympathy or anything but fear and grim determination. The lines of battle surged back and forth as the earth ponies drove into the canine ranks, then fell back from the dogs' superior numbers. Sugarberry and her team were in constant motion, trying to keep the burlier earth ponies between themselves and the enemy, reaching past them to strike at the dogs. At one point there was a terrible shriek, and one of the flows of magic cut off. Turning, Sugarberry saw a dog mauling Diamond Mint, having somehow slipped past the earth ponies. The green-blue mare's coat was covered with blood; caught off-guard, she had had no chance to defend herself. Infuriated and terrified, Sugarberry struck the dog with a punishing bolt, charring its gray coat and blowing it clean off its feet. The wounded unicorn tried to struggle to her feet, but it was hopeless. Diamond Mint died seconds later, her eyes filled with pain and confusion. The battle dragged on, and Sugarberry lost track of how many times she hurled magic against the dogs, how many times she saw dogs or ponies or griffins die before her eyes, crushed or slashed or charred by her own magic. She felt herself growing numb, as though this were merely an endless exercise, something she must repeat forever. Channel power, shape magic, pick a target, release. There was pain and horror everywhere, and she . . . she was just one more part of it. And then the tenor of the battle changed. Sugarberry was turning wearily to aim another bolt, her horn aching, when she caught sight of an unusual figure among the dogs, an equine figure: a unicorn, indigo of coat and tall as the dogs themselves. Fallax Equa, the leader of the enemy. Acting instinctively, Sugarberry turned her magic against Fallax Equa, sending the lightning bolt crashing down onto the dark mare. The blue-white bolt struck the air a yard above Fallax Equa's head and spattered against an invisible barrier, spending itself on nothing. Fallax Equa turned, her turquoise eyes meeting Sugarberry's, and the white mare discovered that she was no so numb as to be immune to fear. “Fall back!” she called, abruptly realizing that the earth ponies were in retreat, the diamond dogs were running, and the ground itself seemed to be rumbling. She turned towards the remainder of her team, but suddenly there were dogs, dogs everywhere. Rhythm reared and whinnied a challenge, attacking the nearest dog with her forehooves even as she continued channeling her magic to Sugarberry. The Decanus wove magic, trying to protect the blue mare, but her power was abruptly cut off as if a wet blanket had been thrown over a fire. The dog grabbed Rhythm, not clawing her but grappling and bearing her to the ground. Other dogs were seizing the remainder of her team. Sugarberry whirled, panicked. Fallax Equa was there, not five yards away, regarding her with those evil eyes. Something unseen clamped onto Sugarberry's head, holding it like a vise, and with a thrill of cold terror she felt her magic begin to trickle away. Fallax Equa's horn glowed with a poisonous light, and Sugarberry realized what was happening. The dark mare was stealing her power, sucking her dry like a ripe fruit. Already she felt weak and dizzy, her legs trembling as more power was drawn away. Desperately, she broke the connection with the other unicorns – the few remaining ones who had not already withdrawn their power in a panic – but it seemed to make no difference. Her head felt like it was being crushed, her vision blurred, and and her legs felt very cold. “You have failed,” Fallax Equa told her icily, gazing into her eyes even as Sugarberry's vision darkened. “I will take your power now, and use it to destroy your friends. Die in despair.” Then she could see nothing but those eyes, glowing like turquoise fire. And then there was nothing at all. The bank of mist flowed forward, an imposing gray presence towering over the largest of the trees. As it advanced, it engulfed several of the smaller trees. Cracking and crunching sounds from testified to something solid within, and the shattered bits of wood than were left behind testified to its strength. Crouched within the upper branches of a massive apple tree, Cloud Kicker watched it with growing horror. She had tried to ignore the block of mist, not knowing what new horrors might be spawned from it; Fallax Equa had not brought it into play the previous day, and the pegasus had vaguely hoped that she would not today, either. This was not to be, it seemed. The Ponyville plans had held up surprisingly well, with Yellow, Green and Black Companies harassing the dogs from the shelter of the trees, while the pegasi of Rainbow Company alternately supported them and lured cocksure griffins to their doom. But now the game was about to change. As the lavender mare watched, the block of mist began to swirl, bits of fog trailing away from the main mass. It shifted, distorting, expanding, becoming translucent, and Cloud Kicker's keen purple eyes could discern a shape – an enormous shape – within the mist. Then the last of the mist was torn away, and the pegasus gasped in horror. It was a hydra. It was monstrous, immense, larger than any living thing Cloud Kicker had ever seen. Four gigantic heads, each large enough to swallow a pony at a single bite, loomed above the apple trees. Its body, a dirty brownish tan, was big as a barn. Two legs – tiny in comparison, but each bearing claws as long as a pony – dragged the monster slowly forward. The diamond dogs scattered before the hydra, giving it a clear path through the orchard. Trees crackled as the dragonlike monster simply crawled over them, turning ancient apple trees to splinters with its sheer weight. Eight eyes stared forward fixedly, as though intent on reaching the ponies that lay ahead. We can't fight that! thought Cloud Kicker, followed immediately by Why is it leaving the dogs alone? All the stories she had ever heard painted hydras as feral beasts, unable or unwilling to communicate, a danger to all that encountered them. Could Fallax Equa be controlling it somehow? It was the only explanation that made any sense. Lightning erupted, crackling about the hydra's heads. The unicorns! Cloud Kicker thought, they're trying to fight it! Before she could react, two of the monster's heads – apparently unaffected by the magical attack – speared down below the level of the trees. They jerked back up, and with cold horror Cloud Kicker saw equine forms dangling from the hydra's jaws. Then it ate them. Cloud Kicker was moving without conscious thought, weaving among tree trunks. Got to get out of here, she thought, followed immediately by, Got to warn the others. The earth ponies. The unicorns. We have to fall back. “Rainbow Company!” she shrieked, darting above the trees and risking the danger of the open air. “To me! Now!” Pegasi came at her call, swarming around her from the trees below. The griffins circled warily, far overhead, but Cloud Kicker paid them no heed. “Warn the earth ponies,” she ordered, “warn the unicorns, and get out of here! Fall back! We can't fight that thing!” The pegasi scattered, swooping below the trees again, carrying the warning to the embattled ponies below. eyeing the griffins, Cloud Kicker turned and shot away in the direction of Ponyville. Twilight Sparkle would know what to do. Surely she and Captain Crimson would have a plan, could come up with some way to deal with the monster. They had to. “Ready?” Cool Star glanced left at right at the other pegasi of his team. They nodded, faces expression varying degrees of determination or excitement, muzzles obscured by scarves. Each pegasus had a large pouch hanging from a cord around his or her neck, a pouch that was tightly sealed, but equipped with a tear-away bottom. They held these pouches carefully between their forehooves, all too aware of the consequences of one should rupture before they were ready. Ahead, in the clearing that had once been a farm belonging to the Stocks, the earth ponies were being slowly pushed back by the masses of diamond dogs. Step by careful step, the ponies yielded ground, and the dogs poured out of the woods in a snarling mob. Cool Star knew little about war, and less still about earth pony tactics, but he thought the Ponyvillians were holding together well. Their front lines were ragged, but there were no breaks, and nopony seemed to be panicking. It looked like a slow defeat for the ponies, as the superior numbers of the dogs inevitably forced them back. Cool Star would have been much more worried if not for the fact that Big McIntosh – Captain Crimson, he corrected himself – had explained, in his casual way, this this was part of his plan. His, and Lieutenant Cloud Kicker's, and Zecora's. That zebra had a twisty way of thinking, one Cool Star heartily approved of. He touched his pouch, hoping she was as clever as she seemed to be. Twilight Sparkle certainly seemed to think so. The battle dragged on, seeming to take hours. Beyond, griffins circled, wary of the trees and wary of the battlefield after the first lesson the unicorns had taught them. Periodically, Cool Star saw pegasi erupt from the treetops to make lighting assaults on the griffins, and sometimes a foolish few griffins pursued them. After the first of these attacks, though, the griffins rose higher, denying the pegasi the advantage of surprise. That's fine, Star thought. You just stay up there out of reach, where you can't hurt anypony. Spend the whole battle there; that would be great. A bead of sweat rolled down Cool Star's face, and he adjusted his headband: a braid of multicolored ribbons. Many of the pegasi had taken to wearing them, in honor of the valiant Rainbow Dash. She's inspired us, Star thought idly. She showed us what pegasi can do. We have to measure up. We have to prove ourselves worthy of that kind of sacrifice. Step by step, yard by yard, the earth ponies retreated. Although the withdrawal was slow and controlled, the fighting was no less fierce for all that. Along the front line, ponies shrieked and flailed and bled and died. Dogs went down as well, but their number seemed endless, whereas the ponies were being slowly whittled away. Star forced his mind to calm, forced himself to see the battle as a whole, see each dog or pony as an impersonal object rather that a dying friend or blood-crazed enemy. It was a talent he had, this dispassion, and one reason he had been chosen to lead this mission. Cloud Kicker had specifically wanted pegasi who could keep a clear head under stress. The earth ponies reached the halfway point of the clearing, and Cool Star nodded. “All right, Rainbows,” he said softly, “let's do this for Dash.” He hunkered down into takeoff position, wings raised and spread. The others mimicked his posture, ranged out on either side of their cream-colored leader. They held that pose for several long minutes, tense, waiting. Several wings twitched, and somepony emitted a small, excited sound. Cool Star, true to his name, was utterly calm. Any second now . . . The trumpet rang out, and the pegasi leaped into the air. The formed a classic V formation with Cool Star at the point, and the remaining twenty-three Rainbows stretched out to either side of him, separated by perhaps five yards each. A scant few yards above the ground, they raced over the field, then the earth pony ranks. Abruptly, there were diamond dogs below them. Cool Star held on for a few seconds more, reluctant to endanger the earth pony ranks. Then, with a quick motion, he ripped open the bottom of the pouch. All along the broad V of pegasi, pouches were torn open, and their contents, a fine, yellowish powder, was released. It trailed behind the streaking pegasi, floating gently down over the canine ranks. Cool Star and the others held their pouches, allowing the powder – devised by Zecora – to sprinkle out. As the trees loomed up before them, Star snapped the cord that held the pouch around his neck and let it fall, then veered skyward in a steep arc. To either side the other pegasi followed him, flapping frantically to gain altitude, desperate to get clear of what they had unleashed. Still calm, still dispassionate, Cool Star regarded the effects of their attack. At first glance, there appeared to be little change among the dogs as the powder settled over them. Zecora said they had to breathe it in, Star remembered. He wondered how quickly it would take effect. “Look!” called one of the pegasi, a lavender mare named Rainbowshine. She gestured towards the dogs. Staring, Cool Star realized that their advance had slowed. Although the earth ponies continued their deliberate withdrawal, the front ranks of the dogs were becoming thin and ragged, despite the fact that more dogs continued to pour out from the trees. The reason for this became obvious after a moment. In the center of the canine mob, large numbers of dogs were jerking and thrashing about, flailing their arms and kicking their legs wildly. It might have been funny if not for what Cool Star knew. This was the effect of Zecora's power, a potent compound that caused uncontrollable spasms in the victim's muscles. She referred to it as “evil dances,” a name that seemed to amuse her somehow. Although Zecora had warned that the powder's effects would be short-lived, it seemed sufficient to break the dogs' advance. Already the front ranks, bereft of support, were being mauled by the earth ponies, while the rearmost ranks piled up in confusion against their suddenly-frantic allies. A few fights broke out as the unaffected dogs interpreted their companions' frenetic flailing as some form of attack. Scanning the battlefield, one eye on the circling griffins, Cool Star saw a lavender pegasus break from the trees and streak across the clearing in the direction of the Ponyville leaders. With surprise, he recognized her as Lieutenant Cloud Kicker. Seconds later, a few more pegasi followed her, then a dozen, then scores. Alarmed, the cream-colored stallion dropped down to intercept the leader of Rainbow Company. She saw him coming. “Move!” she shouted, not slowing down. “Got to warn Twilight. Hydra!” Hydra? Glancing back, Cool Star saw three . . . no, four serpentine heads rising above the trees. An instant later his mind processed exactly how big those heads must be, and his blood turned to ice water in his veins. As the pegasus ponies flew clear, having released their load of powder upon the unsuspecting dogs, Twilight Sparkle glanced back over her shoulder and said, “Now.” Silver Gleam watched curiously as a score or so ponies sprang into action, attending a dozen wheeled contraptions. They were amazing devices, all wheels and gears and rope and wooden poles, and Silver reminded himself that Pinkie had designed and constructed them all in less than two days. Junebug, Pinkie Pie's unofficial lieutenant, lifted a large pink flag emblazoned with a cupcake, then brought it down sharply. With a series of wooden cracks, the line of devices jerked, their spoon-shaped arms snapping up and hurling their payloads skyward. Rocks hurtled through the air, hoof-sized on up to the size of a pony's head. They easily cleared the earth pony ranks, raining down on the unprepared, half-maddened dogs. The result was pandemonium in the dog ranks. Although the actual damage seemed minimal in the vast horde of dogs, the undisciplined creatures were now forced to watch the sky for yet another source of attack. Caught between the earth ponies and, the aerial assault, harassed by the suddenly-potent magic of his unicorn teams, and now fighting their own demented ranks, the dogs could take no more. Abruptly, the front ranks of the dogs dissolved, struggling to get away from the ponies, some simply running in any clear direction. More dogs poured onto the battlefield, but they seemed more concerned with clearing the orchards than with joining the battle. The mass of dogs began to split down the middle. We're doing it! Silver Gleam thought with fierce excitement. We're holding! By Celestia, the dogs are breaking! “Release again!” shouted Junebug, whipping her flag up and down. The contraptions, having been cranked down and reloaded, snapped upwards once more. Again, a flurry of rocks took to the air, raining down on the dogs like some horrible hail. Dogs fell, or howled with pain. Suddenly there were pegasi everywhere, streaking across the field, dodging rocks and flying like mad things towards Silver and the others. Junebug, raising her flag for a third round, held up a quelling hoof. Oh Celestia, this can't be good news. As the first pegasus – Cloud Kicker herself – reached the command post, Silver edged closer to listen. “Cloud Kicker, what is it?” demanded Twilight Sparkle, her expression worried. The pegasus mare stood, panting heavily, then lifted her head. “Hydra,” she gasped. “Big one . . . coming this way. Warned the earth ponies . . . and unicorns.” Cloud Kicker squeezed her eyes shut and continued. “I saw what it was doing. It . . . it ate them.” Silver Gleam turned and scanned the treeline. It didn't take long; almost at once he saw them: four reptilian heads atop long necks, towering above the orchards. They were advancing slowly but with terrible purpose, and they were enormous. As he watched, three of the heads suddenly ducked below the trees, reappearing a moment later. Two appeared to have a toothy grip on the same . . . something, while the third tossed what was unmistakably a pony into the air, and caught it with a snap. The other two tore apart their prize with a sudden tug, and Silver looked away, sickened. “Silver. Silver!” He looked up, to find Twilight gazing at him with concern. “I need you. Now.” Swallowing hard, the gray unicorn nodded. “What?” “If the dogs hold us until that thing gets here, the earth ponies will be wiped out. We have to break free.” Twilight gestured towards the battlefield. “I want a full bombardment on the dogs, now. Spend everything you've got, but break their advance.” She turned to Cloud Kicker and continued. “Following that, I want a series of raking flyby attacks so the earth ponies can get free. If we don't break the dogs now . . .” She let the thought trail off, and Silver Gleam turned his attention back to the battle. Rejoining his own group of unicorns, he concentrated briefly, then sent a series of green fireballs, tiny but bright, arcing skyward. Three green lights – the sign for “full bombardment on my signal.” As the last pegasus stragglers cleared the area, Silver Gleam reached out with his magic. Immediately, he felt the presence of his team, extending their arcanomorphic fields toward him, offering their power. He made contact, and suddenly power was flowing into him like a river. Horn glowing, he selected a point roughly in the middle of the mass of dogs – out of range for him under normal circumstances – and wove his magic into the lightning spell. Above the diamond dogs, the sky exploded. Lighting bolts pounded downwards, like terrible blue-white trees of death, tearing through the canine ranks. Bursts of telekinetic energy flung dogs into the air, to fall screaming back among their compatriots. Silver and the Decanii threw their power against the dogs, unleashing their full fury as the earth ponies – holding their composure in the midst of the magical assault – retreated, step by careful step. Another volley of stones rattled down upon the dogs, adding to the chaos. And then it came. A monstrous head, tan and evil-looking, slid over the tops of the trees, and regarded the clashing forces with green eyes. It was joined by three others, accompanied by the splintering of the trees crushed beneath the hydra's huge bulk. For an instant the hydra stood there, perfectly still. Then it surged forward with alarming speed, crushing dogs as it made for the earth ponies. In a body, the ponies broke and ran, disregarding the panicking dogs as they galloped madly for safety. The magical assault on the dogs cut off as the surviving unicorns fled with the earth ponies. More ponies – earth ponies and unicorns alike – poured out of the orchard, fighting their way past one another in a frenzy. The battle between dog and pony was forgotten in their mutual terror of the hydra. The beast paused, and four heads shot down like striking snakes. Shrill, equine screams rent the air as ponies were caught, bitten, crushed. Silver Gleam distinctly saw one earth pony slip from the hydra's jaws and fall, legs flailing wildly, back among the melee. “That's it! Fall back!” shouted Twilight Sparkle, and the unicorn trumpeters sounded the call to retreat. The ponies broke into frenetic motion, gathering what gear they had and bolting southwards. Junebug abandoned her rock-throwing devices, not without a glance of regret, and galloped away. As his team departed, Silver spared a glance for the embattled earth ponies and the pegasi still circling above them. Dear Sisters, he prayed, let them find a way through.