I’m afraid. I have laid my plans, and laid them well. Our return to the world signifies a waning of Harmony’s power—a withdrawal, a tidal retreat towards the Well. Nothing less could free us from our imprisonment.
But my actions may prohibit survival. There is a creature, inside the Veil. I do not know how he arrived here, in this Equestria. An old friend of ours, an ally and an enemy: I cannot think that his motives are aligned with ours.
Forty-Two
BOUNDLESS PEERED through the a crack in the wall of the hideout. The dilapidated building had no shortage of those, wind eagerly whistling through. It carried the sound with it, though they made no attempt to converse away from him. After the third time they’d thrown him into the back room, however . . . he contended himself with this glimmer. Enough that they were helping, at all. That was, on reflection, more than he had any right to ask for.
“Taking it’s the trigger, of course,” Ruby was saying. Her back was to him, and the fire flickered through her translucent skin, sending waves of orange-red running over her. He caught glimpses of the others, arrayed on either side of her.
“I’d expect so. Can’t pretend there’ll be no way to track it, either,” Wintersong said.
“That our problem?” Cobalt asked, rubbing the side of his face with a hoof.
“Depends. You feelin’ like a professional?”
“Naww, that ain’t right. Where’s the line, hey?”
Charger snorted. “I dunno. Wish we could talk to the boss.”
“Communications won’t be back proper for another week at least.” Stone Shard said, looking up from where he sat across the room, with his front hooves held out before the fire.
“Somepony could make it by hoof in another day, maybe two.”
“In this weather?” Charger said, then made a rude noise, spitting on the floor.
“Would you give the weather a rest? I swear, find something else to whine about.”
“Meh.”
“So, what? Anything else to prepare?”
“If we want to take this all the way? Best bet’s gonna be a diversion.” Ruby said.
“False trail.” Cobalt added.
“Several.” Ruby was nodding now, her lips curving into the ghost of a smile. “And a distraction or two wouldn’t go amiss, either.”
“S’not leaving much,” Wintersong noted. Cobalt glanced at him, and nodded.
Ruby moved from her spot in front of the crack, circling the room.
“Only takes one of you to take it, though. Hoof it off and run, that’s what I say,” Charger said.
“We’re still stuck on the Princess,” Wintersong said. “If she hears it move . . .”
“That’s why we gotta get some distance,” Charger said, and belched. “Expect I’m speaking for the group when I say I’ll be rightly glad when she catches up with him.”
“Irrelevant,” Ruby said. She chuckled. “True enough, though.”
Boundless grumbled.
“So then it’s just the big question left. The elephant in the room,” Cobalt said, pacing now, moving as best he could in the limited space.
“The Heart?”
“Yeah. Look, this ain’t really our thing,” Stone Shard said.
“Granted,” Wintersong said. “But you’ve been around long enough to know the stakes. And we decide together.”
“Agreed.” Ruby let out a long sigh. “Let’s not kid ourselves. This whole scenario sounds entirely too much like Sombra to have illusions about what’s coming next.”
“It’s not a switch, Rubes,” Cobalt said. “There’s only so much that he could do with it.”
“What about the boss?” Charger asked.
“No, no, there’s no time for that kind of delay. We gotta pick a course now, and stick to it.”
“Damage control is incidental, surely. Just taking it’s going to be enough of a blow.”
The voices began to blur together, speaking over one another, the conversation picking up threads like dog hair. He couldn’t see them, through the narrow gap, though the shuffling bodies provided a mosaic of light.
“That’s assuming we’re in the clear afterwards.”
“The authorities will clean it up-“
“Symbol of sovereignty-“
“Strike at the center—ha! at the very Heart!”
“Think about the glory. Heat’s not always a bad thing.”
“You mean infamy, right? Still-“
“Oh, shut up!”
“Frankly, now I’m just curious-“
“-any sense of pride left, I swear-“
“-still incredibly dangerous-“
“There’s pride in your country, and then there’s pride in-“
Five voices spun and twisted in what was really a rather quiet affair. A discussion, lively, yes, but muted all the same—well worn, familiar, and drawing to its inevitable conclusion. Eventually, they slowed, began replacing barbs with nods, arguments with grins. Boundless saw all five face each other in a circle, firelight flickering over the face across from him, and casting huge shadows on the walls.
“So, whose gonna draw the short straw, then?” Stone Shard asked the group. “Has to be one of you three, obviously.” Here, he nodded at Ruby, Wintersong, and Cobalt. Boundless had followed enough of the discussion to understand: crystal ponies, it seemed, could take the Crystal Heart.
Though, flexing his hooves, he thought he might be able to handle that, too.
“I’ll do it,” all three said simultaneously. Charger laughed, got up and moved to the side of the room. Rummaging in a drawer, he pulled out a pack of cards. “Ace high?”
“Ugh.”
Boundless sat back and considered, letting them sort it out. Selecting a candidate for taking the Heart—it was sensible to keep as many members as far away from the Heart as possible. False trails could be laid in advance, freeing up the other four to create distractions . . . all of which would help: move the Guard through the city, split them up, confuse them; but only to a point.
He hadn’t thought about Princess Mi Amore Cadenza. Not even the crystal ponies seemed to have much of a clue about her connection to the Heart. Any ability to track it could severely hinder his movements. After Twilight Sparkle’s . . . unexpected talents, he wasn’t willing to put it past her, either.
There came a knock on the wall, and Boundless jumped, ever so slightly. Knocked out of his thoughts, he stood, entered the far room to find all five grinning ponies, staring at him.
“Good news, lil’ buddy,” Charger said. “You’ve got yourself a plan.
***
“That’s not good enough,” Fluttershy said. She stamped a hoof into the ground. The dirt was soft, and her hoof sank more than a few inches—and it was only getting softer. Utterly soaked by the rain, her mane was draped over the front of her face, and with her other hoof she brushed it back behind her ear.
The Drac shrugged. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Applejack repeated. “Just like that?”
“It’s neither my intention nor my obligation to seek your approval, ponies.”
“An’ you don’t think we deserve a better explanation?!”
“Deserve is a strong word. I should think the Bearer of Honesty would know the world better than that.”
Applejack fell silent, fuming.
“Your implication offends me,” Fluttershy began. “You claim it was for our benefit? Lives needn’t be spent on our strength, drake.”
“Better the world fall?”
“Yes!”
“Naïve,” the Drac said. He sniffed. “You will find such beliefs harder to hold to, faced with real tragedy.”
“You think we haven’t been through it?” Applejack asked. She strode forward, adjacent to Fluttershy. “Haven’t been through the grime? The blood and sand?”
“These tempests of mine were not aimed at you.”
“Then you admit it! Admit to killing—murdering—the buffalo, the Appleloosans!”
The Drac shrugged. “It matters not. You have already made up your minds.”
“It matters,” Applejack said, breathing heavily. “O’ course it matters.”
“Why?”
“So we can sure you will not try this again,” Fluttershy said.
“Is that a threat?” the Drac asked.
Fluttershy took a deep breath, and then let it out. She rolled her head on her shoulders, took a few small dancing steps. “Yes.”
“Good.” The Drac smiled, serrated teeth flashing in the light. “The Storms were directed south, Conduit. Not at you or your friends.”
Fluttershy nodded, glancing at her side. “Applejack?”
“I think so,” Applejack said. She fixed her gaze on the Drac. “Continue.”
“You have been out of the loop for some time, Warden. What do you suspect has been occurring in your absence? The fallout has spread wider than you think, and there is little time left.”
“Time for what?”
“Harmony draws into itself. Your own capacity has grown manifold, has it not? Can you feel the energy pouring through you? The assurance?”
“Necessity makes everypony suffice,” Applejack spat.
“No, it is more than that.” The Drac leant down, rested his head on the bank. “You are growing, and the other Elements with you. It is like a swell, coming to a peak.
“I do not rely on the same forces. Long I wondered at my natural resistance to the pull of these waters—sixteen years ago, I found an answer. You term the date Moon’s Rise.” He shook his head. “For me, it was marked by nothing so much as the death of an old friend.
“I have been alive for thousands of years. I saw Equestria’s inception, the advent of your Royal Sisters. I witnessed Typhus’ defeat. So understand: I cannot remember any of it. ‘Till Luna’s visit, I knew nothing of the outside world. And worse, such a fate did not trouble me, gave me no cause for alarm.”
“So what?” Applejack spat. “Nightmare Moon put you up to this? Gave you the right to endanger lives?!”
“I thrust against the South. That others got in my way, you have only yourselves to blame.”
“What?”
“I told you, Warden. I do not use Harmonic power. The essence of my being is fire. Uncontrolled. Flickering, raging. Chaotic.”
“Discord,” Fluttershy hissed.
“He is but an avatar,” the Drac said. “The source is approaching. Your little cloud friend has warned you of this, Conduit.”
Fluttershy started. “Nephele . . .”
“Indeed. A being of mist, vapour. It did not take much energy to bind her together.”
“What have you done?!”
The Drac blinked. “Do not misunderstand. She has only returned to the waters from whence she came. The Lethe is a home for hundreds upon thousands of souls.”
“Why?!”
“Incentive. Aid, should you require it. A hint of mystery, to hold your attention.” The Drac shrugged. “Who knows? It could be all three or more.”
Fluttershy was grinding her teeth together, an awful scraping sound filling the air, loud enough to cause Applejack to wince.
“The hate,” Applejack said, stamping against the wet earth. “The hatred, in the water. What about that?”
“It is no hatred of mine, Warden,” the Drac said. He gave a short laugh. “Typhus is the enemy of us all. Ironic, that I might be blamed for attempting to purify his presence, as best I could.”
“None of this gives us any assurance that you will stop!” Fluttershy cried.
“Why, but you have already fulfilled your purpose. I need draw attention South no more, the deed is done—or will be done, in due course. You cannot reach him in time to make the difference.”
“That’s it.” Applejack marched forward, fixing the Drac with her glare. "I’m done with half-answers. The story, drake, now.”
The Drac chuckled. “Have you heard of Boundless?”
“No.”
“He was born during the brief moment of time during which you were scrambling about this Forest, searching for Harmony. You could say he had three parents, really: two, unimportant; and the third, Luna, Princess of Equestria, the Silver Spear, and the Guiding Light. He is her Disciple, her solitary follower. He killed Shining Armour.”
“What?!” Applejack and Fluttershy cried at the same time.
“Oh. Had you not heard? It was around the time the two of you left Ponyville.”
“The mountain,” Fluttershy whispered.
Applejack cast a glance back at her. The pegasus was trembling, now, eyes already filling with tears, biting a lip and hugging herself awkwardly with one wing.
“The mountain was trembling, Applejack.”
And Applejack remembered. The clandestine meeting in Sugarcube Corner, the four of them gathered to hear Rarity’s announcement of Luna’s return. The interruption: an earthquake, seemingly originating from Canterlot. The whole earth, crying out in protest. “Twilight,” she whispered.
Then she turned, and punched the Drac squarely in the face. He stumbled back, recoiling. And Applejack advanced, slowly, implacably, giving him plenty of time to see her coming.
He grinned, and she shattered two of his teeth.
“That,” Applejack said, panting now, breath steaming in front of her, “is for taking us away.”
Fluttershy whimpered.
“Why did Boundless murder Shining Armour?”
“He is impelled to seek the end of the Veil.” Noticing their faces “—the barrier in the South that prevented Rarity from seeing Luna, for all those years—and to do so, he will require an artefact capable of amplifying Luna’s gift to him.”
“What’s that got to do with Shining Armour?!” Applejack managed not to roar that last part. Just barely, but she did manage it.
“The Crystal Heart.”
Applejack blinked. Of course. Obvious, really.
“He wants to bring his ‘gift’ to everyone,” the Drac said. “To spread it, everywhere he goes.”
“To what end?”
The Drac shrugged. “Who could know. Perhaps he merely feels lonely. I should know something of the pain one endures when surrounded by those who do not understand, who cannot understand. In all the world, there is not one pony whom can empathise with him, who can connect with him.”
Fluttershy spoke up. “That’s . . . that’s tragic.”
“Then again,” a glint of teeth, “maybe he’s just bored. There could be a thousand reasons, really.”
“Do you,” Applejack asked, “have a moral objection to giving a straight answer?”
The Drac laughed. Full-bellied, and deep, his mirth echoed over the clearing for near a minute. “Oh, pony. I must thank you for the compliment,” he said, wiping at his face with a claw.
“Hmph.”
“Why us?” Fluttershy asked.
“He cannot use the Heart himself, of course. That requires a particular talent. A talent shared by very few ponies in Equestria—why, I can think of just three.” He levelled a talon at Fluttershy. “Luna. Cadence. And you.”
“Conduits,” Fluttershy said. “Channelling energy, through the Crystal Heart?”
“Correct. And both Luna and Cadence have interests in helping Boundless. Thus . . .”
“That is inexcusable.”
“Perhaps. Though I hope you have a glimmer as to how complex the situation is. The lives of a few buffalo and ponies cannot possibly compare to the machinations of the world.”
Applejack punched the Drac again, and again, rearing back with shoulders bunched, and then Fluttershy caught her hoof.
“Applejack, please! Calm down, calm down . . . it’ll be alright,” she said, voice choking, hanging onto Applejack's limb with limp strength and sagging body weight. Applejack felt her trembling—quiet little jerks that, more than anything else, gave her pause.
“But he . . . he . . .” she stammered.
“I know. And it’s appalling, and tragic, and . . . and sad. And he has our pity. But I’ve felt enough hatred for a lifetime, Applejack, please. I . . . I don’t want . . .”
Applejack glanced at her friend, and saw Fluttershy, her eyes scrunched together, averted, the faint beginnings of a flood—pressed up against the dam. Just like that, the Drac was forgotten, and she swept Fluttershy aside, wrapping her in strong arms. Wordless murmurings came from her, warm and guttural, the instinctive comfort of sound, of a presence making itself known.
Fluttershy clung to her, face buried against Applejack's shoulder, as the urge to tears abated, and not yet spent. She had not allowed herself to grieve, not properly, not fully, always putting it aside with Coromancy and willpower. She would break later, and begin to put herself back together, she knew. She even looked forward to it.
But here, they had a task. They had come here to put an end to the suffering, and she would accomplish that much. She cleared her throat, lifted her gaze, chin resting on Applejack’s shoulder, eyes locked on the amused face of her enemy.
“To summarise,” she said, and her voice only trembled slightly. “You claim to have desired: our attention south, garnered with Storms and a constructed Nymph;—Nephele! Her heart cried out, but—the growth of our power, as tested by wind and lightning and ice and death; the purification of a hatred you claim was created by Typhus, a Chaotic force currently barred in the far South, across the deserts, and to aid both the murderer Boundless, and Nightmare Moon.”
The Drac only smiled. His tongue lashed through the gap in his teeth Applejack had broken.
“Then, then you will cease your attacks South. Because,” and her voice nearly did break, now, cracking in half, “because we will ignore them.”
The Drac cocked his head. “I must confess some surprise. But you do not have the spine to play this game with me, Conduit,”
“We will be returning home, and then making our way North. To . . . to comfort our friends. And . . .”
The Drac waved a claw. “Don’t bother. I’ve already told you. Too late, little pony, too late! You cannot influence the outcome there any longer, for you cannot reach the Empire quickly enough.”
“Then there isn’t any reason for you to continue!” Applejack yelled, releasing Fluttershy. The two ponies faced the dragon, shoulder to shoulder. “Stop this madness! Swear it!”
“Just like that? For free? No, that is not my style. But what, I wonder; might you have to offer in trade?”
“What do you want,” Applejack spat. “Really, this time. No more riddles, no more half-truths.”
“Why, I am insulted. I cannot lie, as I’m sure you recall.”
“Bah,” Applejack tossed her head. “Jus’ means you’re good at it.”
The Drac laughed. “Very well. In trade, you will return to Ponyville. You will remain there, under threat of the South. And you will think, and ponder, and study.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“Too easy,” Applejack said, shaking her head from side to side, violently. “What’s your game? I-I-I-”
“I doubt very much the possibility of my words convincing you to trust me,” the Drac said. “So you are left with a choice.”
“And we will not forgive you, either,” Fluttershy said. “These crimes will not be forgotten.”
He proffered two claws, wrists held together. “Have you the irons?”
“No,” Applejack said. “Not now. He’s right, in a way. We can heed his words and return home, or we can forcibly stop him now. An’,” meeting Fluttershy’s eyes, “Ah agree. There’s been too much violence already. What’s Just can wait.”
“We’ll tell Celestia.”
“O’ course.”
“She’ll sentence him.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
Fluttershy deflated. “That’s it, then. I don’t suppose you’ve the inclination to answer further questions?”
“And how are you to pay for answers?” the Drac hissed.
“Then,” she said, nodding with her friend, “let’s go home.”
The bank of the Lethe wasn’t all that far from Ponyville, not compared to the distances they’d already travelled. Six, seven hours had passed by the time they emerged from the Forest, the path beaten into the ground by Spike over the years keeping the wildlife off their backs. The thick trees didn’t seem so hostile, this time, as every other time Fluttershy had entered the Forest. The gloom wasn’t as oppressive, and the evening birdsong, the little sounds that made up the ambience around them, instead of calling out a threat, a warning, resembled nothing so much as ignorance. They passed as a shadow, unnoticed, and the Forest continued around them.
The sun had long since set when they saw Ponyville. The town was asleep, drenched in midnight blue. So still, static, compared to the wind of the desert or the animals in the Forest. Fluttershy breathed in the tranquillity, felt herself relax, perhaps for the first time in weeks, felt the weight around her shoulders slip, ease a little.
She’d set out to prevent tragedy, to forestall what she’d seen in her Dreams. A future of devastation, of destruction on such a scale as to utterly annihilate southern Equestria, a future that would reduce Appleloosa to a tribe of wandering nomads, eking out existence in the harsh desert. Those dreams had featured a Storm, too, if only in the back of her mind.
They walked slowly through Ponyville, silent. Fluttershy’s head was on a swivel, eyes taking in the shopfronts and homes and parks. She’d never been away for this long before. And even now, she occasionally stumbled across buildings she didn’t recognise, new developments slowly taking over the face of the town she’d grown up in. The change was accelerating as Ponyville grew, more and more ponies migrating here . . . it would never be a city. But neither would it be a small country town.
That Storm, though, had been coming from the South. She remembered that, didn’t she? The walk had given her time to calm herself, time to gain distance, and Ponyville, the beginning and end of their journey, brought perspective. The patterns didn’t quite fit. She was confused.
Would Ponyville remember her, when it grew to maturity? Would it remember Applejack? They passed the old school, where Cheerilee had taught the Cutie Mark Crusaders. It was just flat earth, now, with no trace of the building remaining, or the grounds surrounding it. In the night it looked awfully empty.
Was the Drac not the threat her Dreams warned of? Could he have been telling the truth—could Nephele, a being, she now realised, she had seen before ever hearing of Appleloosa’s troubles, have been warning her of the real threat? Typhus, the name rang in her mind, surging Northwards, from beyond the Veil.
They reached the city centre, and Applejack sighed.
“Hoo, girl, it is good to be home, though.”
“Yes,” Fluttershy smiled. She would Dream, tonight. She would see if they had changed the future. And there was one Dream that hadn’t come to pass. Through dedication or persistence or blind luck, she’d never heard that cry: the cry that still pierced her mind like a nail wood, affixed to a structure, that, in her doldrums, Fluttershy named Fate . . . she yawned.
“Good for the soul, it is,” Applejack said. Her mouth was tight, too, and her shoulders bunched. “Though Ah think that’s enough sightseeing for one night. Stay at the farm?”
Fluttershy just nodded, and let Applejack lead her back through Ponyville. Lead her towards a warm bed, a solid roof, and Dreams of the future.
***
Boundless shoved, his telekinetic field adding magical force to the physical power of his arm. Like it was tethered by a rubber band, it gave slightly under his weight, and then pulled back, vibrating into place. He grit his teeth, poured more power through his horn, tried to feel the magic that was behind his Cutie Mark. Either it didn’t apply, or he didn’t know how to summon it: the Heart gave no more easily than before.
“Alright,” he said, releasing his hold and stepping back with a sigh. “Go ahead.”
“Dunno what all the fuss is about,” Cobalt said. “Simple matter, really.” He stepped up to the Heart, reached out, and took it from where it hovered. The hum in the air intensified, peaking at a sharp note, before cutting off. He wasted no time, placing it gently in Boundless’ waiting hoof.
“Enjoy, kid. You’ve full use of the safehouse, too, as long as you want it. But this is it: you won’t be seeing any of us again.”
“The diversions?”
“Occurring as we speak,” Cobalt said. “I’d say farewell, but . . . meh.”
“Cutting.”
Cobalt just turned tail and ran.
Boundless tossed the Heart in his hoof. They were a strange group of criminals, these ones. So different from the thugs he’d encountered in Hornwall, in Equestria. He’d wanted to ask after motive: why they’d decided to help him . . . steal . . . such an important symbol, but they’d never given him the time.
He turned away himself, tucking the crystal Heart safely into his saddle bags as he did so, only to fall under a shadow. He started; eyes locking onto the strange shape on the ground as it swept over him, then flicked his gaze upwards, catching the trailing edge of black and midnight blue.
The source landed in front of him, folded her wings against her sides, and lit her horn, a deep blue magical aura surrounding it. She stood tall and proud, mane blowing in non-existent wind, light glimmering off the metal encasing her body. This was a figure of legend and nightmare, carved in statues and rendered in myth. A fairytale, who would eat the young colts and fillies foolish enough to hoard their candy on that most sacred of nights. He cowered despite himself, hooves frozen in place, whole body trembling.
Except . . . instead of dragon eyes and fangs, she wore a benign smile, and blinked owlishly against the sun. Shadows sprung up around them, encasing the pair in the deep black of night, and obscuring any vision of their surroundings. Lights appeared, tiny motes of argent, and from somewhere, a pale gleam, silver against the void.
“Running was the smarter option, my little pony,” she said. “My, whatever shall we do with you?”
“N-n-nightmare Moon,“ Boundless stammered. But she was defeated, redeemed, lifted up. Moon’s Rise, the night of the Summer Sun Celebration, and the day after. “B-b-b-“
“B-b-b-but what? The Elements of Harmony? Child, Nightmare Moon is an idea, not a monster,” Luna said. “Some might call her inevitable. Just like you,” punctuating the last three words with hoofstrikes, closing the distance between them. “I am Princess Luna, diarch of Equestria. And you, you are Boundless, murderer. Thief.”
After the Crystal Heart, then. Boundless backed away one hoof at a time. “He went that way,” he said, pointing to the side.
“Such loyalty.”
“They aren’t my friends.”
“You don’t have any friends,” Luna said, her mouth curving in a cruel smile, “do you?”
Boundless gulped. The saddlebags across his back were suddenly engulfed in a dark blue haze, the Princess’ magical aura lifting them, unclasping the latch, and lifting the Heart out.
“Now, then,” Luna said, stalking closer. “Why don’t you tell me what somepony like yourself wants with something like this.”
“I . . .”
“Shall I start for you?”
Boundless kept his mouth shut. Luna began to circle him, the Heart wafting through the air above them.
“How about the motives behind Shining Armour’s murder? The question, the drive at the center of your mind: to find somepony like you, or, failing that, to create one. To take a pony, and make of her a monster. Well? Am I close?”
Still, he said nothing. There was nothing to say, and little to add. The armour of Nightmare Moon clinked as she moved.
“Or should we go further back still? To the colt who never fit in. The child that always knew there was a difference, a gulf, between him and the others. Everyone around him. A line they would never cross. He felt it, in playground squabbles, in childish fights. Win, or lose, it made no difference: he found only wariness, the primal respect given a predator.”
“You’ve been watching me,” he said, at last finding his tongue.
Luna laughed. “No, no. You are simply not nearly as complicated as you think.”
Boundless narrowed his eyes. “Why are you here?” he asked, lifting a hoof.
“To meet you, of course,” she said, passing behind him for the third time. He could feel her eyes on him, careful scrutiny piercing his every defense. “And still so young! I wonder what might have happened, had you given yourself just a bit more time.”
“Like that’d make a difference.”
She reached out and grabbed his chin, forced him to meet her eyes. Saddened, reflective, she stared past him, and then shook her head. “You would be surprised, what one gets used to, in time.”
Boundless gave himself a small shake, just to expel the shivers that were playing across his fur and down his spine.
“Why come all this way?” Luna asked, settling in front of him. “Risk so much. All for an artefact you cannot even use.” She brought the Crystal Heart down, set it hovering between them. It caught the argent light, set it shimmering about the enclosure.
“To . . .” Boundless found himself searching for words. It was a question he’d deliberately put off, avoided wherever he could. Always moving, always the next step, with no time for reflection. He swallowed. “To find out why.”
Luna arched an eyebrow.
“Why I was born like this. Why I’m different to everyone else. Why they can’t do the things I do, think the way I think. I just want to know why!”
The Crystal Heart floated back into his saddlebags, its unexpected weight causing him to jolt.
“Wha-“
The veil of night around them dissipated, revealing an empty street. They’d moved while they were talking—teleportation? He hadn’t felt a thing. He shivered.
Princess Luna—Nightmare Moon—was gazing back at the castle, some distance away. “You . . . you are not the only one.”
“You’re . . .”
“When you are ready—Boundless, look at me—when you are ready, bring the Heart to me, to the place you took it from. And I will tell you everything.”