We reached its source today. I’m . . . well, I’m worried, to put it frankly. I wouldn’t tell anyone this, for fear of colouring their thoughts, but . . .
I’ve seen this place before.
Fifty-Two
RAINBOW DROPPED THE FINAL stone into place, panting with exertion. Sliding through the mortar, it got stuck a few inches high, and she smacked her hoof down on it a few times, knocking it into place. Below her, cheers just barely echoed their way up the marble walls to reach her. Grinning, she glanced down and gave them a mock salute, the comparative weightlessness of her body giving her enough of a second wind to throw a few loops on her way back to the ground.
That was the northern wall, done—or, at least, as near to done as she could manage. Tidying up the work, placing the last few decorative details, that was best left to the Wardens. Already, one was being flown up by two pegasi, hooves reaching for the block Rainbow had just left. He’d mould the stone, bond it more deeply with the mortar and its neighbours, smooth out any imperfections or pockets of air.
The walls gleamed as she descended past them. A marble facade, covering burnished steel and thick slabs of rock, it captured the light and refracted it, tiny fragments of glass and crystal embedded in the panelling scattering colours in a multitude of tiny rainbows. It was, she had to admit, a work of inspiration, the equal of anything Canterlot had ever produced. And while the high rises in Manehattan cleared this castle without issue, none of them had anywhere near the durability, craftsmanship, or . . . well, grace.
She chuckled. To think, back when she’d first seen the ruined castle in the middle of the Everfree Forest—that she’d helped build it. She could see the damage, if she thought about it, matched loose memories to what she was looking at now. Most of the detailing gone, the marble dulled and cracked and broken. Some towers fallen entirely.
She landed, somepony pressing a mug into her hooves just moments later. Simple cheer, good ponies around her—it eased her, made up for something that had been missing entirely too long.
Rainbow shook herself slightly, and took a deep gulp of cider. Sweet and tangy, with clear notes of cinnamon and a strong aftertaste that lingered long after she’d put her mug down. It couldn’t live up to Applejack’s, of course, but, staring into the swelling group around her, all lively, happy . . . well, it came close.
“Rainbow,” Blitz called, hitting the ground hard a few feet away, kicking up clods of earth as he skidded to a halt.
Grinning, she hoofed her mug over. “Slow down, buddy,” she said. “We’ve earned a little break.”
He pushed the mug away. “Mission’s come up. You know the drill.”
Rainbow made a face, more for the benefit of the workers around her than anything else. She could feel the tingle running down her spine, the spark that word had provided already picking up her wings, lifting them in anticipation.
A mission. It had been weeks—weeks of hard work, good work, sure, but work. Rainbow drained the mug, passed it on, said farewell, and—fwoosh—spiralled skywards after Blitz.
This was her real purpose here. This was what she was here for, beyond Luna’s mission and Rarity and everything else. Not a coincidence, or a mistake—but something only she could do. Fated, she supposed, if she let herself think the word. She shook herself slightly. The comfort of the loop was becoming all too familiar.
Because what else? Plenty of ponies went through life wondering at their impact, the effect they might have upon the world. Here? Rainbow had no need of wonder. She could see her influence, extending across the years . . .
“Heads up, rookie,“ Blitz said, falling into flap beside her. “Here there be dragons.”
This time Rainbow made a face for herself. “Again? Surely we’ve gotten everything-”
“Nope. We’ve checked the area after Typhus’d swept over—nada. We were busy running for our lives, and those fuckers thought it apropos to pick over our remains like carrion.”
They flew over the walls, out into the vast flat plains beyond the castle. Nearly two years since the attack on the town and still there were ponies out here, felling trees and digging into hills. Unspoken the assumption—the knowledge—that this respite had already gone on for far too long. It lent daily life a precarious tension.
“And we can’t jump over the Storm?” Rainbow asked. She knew the answer: she’d tried it herself, late at night when she’d thought nopony would notice her sneaking out. Not a pleasant conversation, that had spawned.
Blitz shot her a look. “Fly through that thing? You’d be torn to shreds, by Cirrus if not Typhus himself. C’mon Rainbow. You know this is important.”
Rainbow sighed. “Yeah. It’s just . . . dragons, man. It’s always dragons.”
Always another mission. Rarity had been placating her, peeking ahead a little at a time. She swore they were close, now, just days, if that, out from The Big Thing—whatever it was they were waiting for. Rainbow wasn’t sure she cared anymore. Too much time, away from home. She was beginning to forget things, and the prospect scared her.
And then, the consideration. Was it entirely fair, for her to complain about Rarity, even only internally? Surely she was missing her sister just as dearly as Rainbow missed Twilight? Missed the Wonderbolts, the stadium, the crowds and adoring fans? Missed quiet evenings with a good book?
No, Rainbow. This is what you do. Push yourself a little further every day, a little higher, a little faster. This . . . this marathon is nothing more than another race. One day at a time. Chin up, wings raised, go.
Cirrus and Crisp were waiting for them up ahead, hovering high above.
“Flap lively,” Cirrus barked as they approached. “I want to do this clean and fast. That means no gawking, Rainbow, and no loitering for stragglers, Crisp.”
They nodded, sharply.
“Our target is a family heirloom. Claims it was enchanted with some pretty serious protection spells by a Conduit generations ago. Lost it during the evacuations.”
“Shouldn’t something like that have been catalogued?”
Cirrus sighed. “You know how it goes, Blitz. Things fall through the cracks and we get to pick up the pieces.”
“Sir.”
“Seers report in that dragons were seen approaching a nearby town just ahead of the Storm. They’re known to seek out and acquire Coromantic artifacts, and there’s no reason to suspect this’ll be any different.”
“Swoop in, snatch it, get out before dragons fry us or Typhus catches us,” Rainbow said. “Simple.”
Cirrus glared at her. “I don’t want any more heroics out of you, rookie. Don’t make me bench you again.”
“Do we have to do this now?” Rainbow asked, looking away.
“Yeah, I think we do. I’m not going to have you trash this operation as well.” Cirrus wasn’t moving, hovering in front of Rainbow, even rising slightly to stare down at her.
Rainbow lifted her head, jutting her chin out slightly. “I get it already.”
“Do you? Because I distinctly recall you going out of your way to get yourself killed last time.”
“They were going to die!”
“Get this through your head, Rainbow. You are too valuable to risk. We operate under supervision, but Seers aren’t perfect, we’re not perfect, and that damnable Storm doesn’t make things easier!”
Rainbow sniffed. “If we aren’t even going to try, then we aren’t valuable at all.”
“We take reasonable risks, with calculated odds. We have Seers, scouting for us. We operate as a team. We don’t squander our talents and go flying off on some foolhardy suicide mission!”
“I-” Rainbow closed her eyes, flared her nostrils. She hated the idea that her successes and failures were premeditated, that events were unchanging. It meant that she had no agency here. She’d argued against that, strongly, to Rarity and to herself. But so much of what she feared, about Fate, about free will—the implications of closed-loop time travel and what it meant for her . . .
Rainbow shook herself, put it out of her mind. Focus on the task at hand. She forced herself to meet Cirrus’ eyes. “Alright,” she said, swallowing. “I’ll stay in line.”
Cirrus hesitated a moment before nodding. “Fall out.”
They flew south, separating some distance from each other so as to avoid colliding slipstreams, and, accelerating all at once, sped forward with a great boom, rocketing into the past.
***
“Is that everypony?” Rarity turned, placing her notebook back into her saddlebags, blue telekinesis winking out.
Hoofsteps from behind. “I think so. As well as we can, of course. So many records were lost in the evacuations . . .”
They stood in a records room, shelves of scrolls surrounding them, interspersed with windows allowing sunlight to beam across the room.
“It’s still quite the list,” Rarity said. “There’s enough here to keep Rainbow busy for months, even before we get to the riskier cases.”
“That’s their job,” Foresight said, nodding to the piece of paper. “What about you?”
Rarity blinked. “We’ve still the interviews today. Any information we can add to the loops can only help.”
“Of course.”
“In fact, there’s no reason to wait. Walk with me? We’ve told them—well, I will tell Rainbow to tell them—to assemble in one of the side halls. Shouldn’t be more than twenty or so a day.”
Foresight fell into step beside her. “Time travel is weird.”
“Quite.”
“Still, this busywork can only keep you going for so long. Any thoughts about what’s next.”
“To tell the truth,” I’m not sure.
Foresight nodded. “A difficult spot, for a Seer.”
Silence, for a hallway. Then, “I’m getting sick of waiting,” Rarity said, spitting the words out.
“Waiting?”
“We’re supposed to be finding a solution. Luna is . . . well, our Luna, anyway, thinks Typhus is returning.”
“A thousand year cycle, I believe.”
“Right. Well, I’ve heard from your Celestia and Luna, interviewed soldiers, civilians . . . learnt all about this cycle. The Well is the best lead by far. The font of power Celestia used to turn the tides nearly two years ago. Somewhere far, far north—even of here, which will become Equestria.”
“But Typhus isn’t defeated yet? You refer to the spirit by name of Discord, correct? I believe you, incidentally, were ultimately responsible for that name.”
Rarity shook her head. “No, Typhus isn’t the problem anymore. It’s . . . we didn’t think much about what we were going to find here, understand? We arrived with . . . preconceptions. Celestia had ruled Equestria alone for just about the entire period of time we skipped over. I was personally involved in purging an evil spirit from Luna. Equestria’s founding stories, about Starswirl and Clover the Clever and others . . . none of it seemed to fit.”
Foresight hummed. “So you’re waiting to see how it connects?”
“Yes.” Turning a corner, Rarity could see artworks decorating the stone hall. Tapestries, of looming shadows sweeping over the land, ponies fleeing underneath it. Of bright stars peppering the crowds. Of the Sun and Moon, gathering together on the horizon, touching , somehow, in a way that was not eclipse but union. This was the real foundation of Equestria. A desperate struggle against what was, for all intents and purposes, a God. “I suppose I am.”
“One would think that an unusual predicament for a Seer to find herself in.”
“Back home, some years ago, Luna went missing. They tasked me with looking for her, monitoring the borders as it were. And everytime I went south—went looking in lands Typhus has here swallowed up—I couldn’t see anything at all. Just grey fog, swallowing all light.”
Foresight closed his eyes. “That would mean there was no life there. Just a barren wasteland, from coast to coast.”
“If Celestia’s theories are correct, yes,” Rarity said, swallowing. “That, or there could be a barrier..”
She could see him put it together. “You don’t think we defeated Typhus at all, do you?”
“No. Discord, I know, is turned to stone. But what if Typhus is still out there, roaming the wasteland? What if this barrier separates Him from Discord? We’re here.”
Foresight put a hoof on Rarity’s shoulder. “It’ll work out.”
“I’m tired of waiting,” Rarity said. She squeezed the doorknob, telekinesis pulsing around it, then exhaled and opened the door. Twenty ponies, exactly, most looking like they’d just come from work in the fields. “Hello, everypony. My name is Rarity, and I’ll be conducting the session today.” Pulling her notebook from her bag, “I see you were all picked up between the third and fifth?”
Nods all around.
“Excellent. I’ll ask you all to cast your mind back as well as you are able. We’ll be running through what exactly happened so that we can pass on any vital information to our Chaser teams.” Rarity beckoned the nearest, a stallion whose hooves were clearly still coated with dirt. “Don’t any of you stress too much, it’s just a quick interview and then you can go back to your day. If you’ll follow me, sir . . .”
Retreating to a far table, Rarity lit her horn, quickly constructing a silence spell to surround them, even allowing herself a small smile at how simple that task had become. “Now, then . . .”
“Tumbler,” the stallion said. “I lied.”
Rarity fumbled her telekinesis, dropping the notebook to the table. “What?”
“The rainbow one. She told me to do it. Nopony was going to come for us, otherwise” Tumbler looked down, refusing to make eye contact. “They wouldn’t have gone. They would have left us there . . .”
***
The time-stream isn’t something Rainbow thought she’d ever be able to get used to. Of course, that was before she spent a year making round trips through it.
She could feel Crisp and Blitz at her sides, like distance fliers in slipstream. They keep each other steady, help to balance out any disturbances. Cirrus was ahead, pushing herself as always. They’d nearly been ambushed, once, dropping back into normality right in the middle of a fight. Ever since then Cirrus had been sure to take point, no matter how much Rainbow argued.
Dragons again. The thought, once upon a time, would have given her excitement—it still did, even. But it felt different. Trepidation, mixed in with the familiar thrills. These dragons weren’t like the ones she’d known back home. They’d been intimidating. These were vicious.
For all that, the time-stream was relaxing. Not much to look at, no scenery or landscape, just endless swirling colour. She’d gotten more confident in here, over time, to the point that she thought she might be able to locate the right day, even, and she knew exactly why she’d overshot by two whole years when she’d brought Rarity into the past. Thank Celestia she’d had Rarity even as a rudimentary guide—even with her, it was amazing enough that they’d been that accurate.
Now though, she thought she could get back to Twilight inside of the day she left, if she wanted to.
Up ahead, Cirrus dropped out, left a vortex in the colours. Rainbow dipped her head, dived into it as she swept forward, felt the air greet her with a colossal crack, the colours of the time-stream splitting into an incandescent rainbow that spread across the sky. There wasn’t really any way to make the process subtle, which was okay by her. Subtlety wasn’t Rainbow’s strong suit.
This time, that wasn’t going to work for their favour. Slowing down, Rainbow took stock of their surroundings—the team of four flying at some speed still, abruptly banking to the right at Cirrus’ lead. Typhus some ten-fifteen miles away, already dominating the horizon. No dragons, as far as she could tell. They’d been that lucky, at least.
They flew perpendicular to the storm-front, whipping through air that felt like it had been sucked dry. Rainbow shivered in spite of herself. She could see it growing as it approached, moving at an unbelievable speed. They’d only have minutes—maybe a half-hour, at most. She gulped, and focused on flying.
Cirrus’ aim had been good—they found the small town that was their reference point almost immediately. From there, they banked north-east, taking a small, dusty trail winding through the plains.
Soon enough, she spotted their goal. A small homestead, sitting close to the edge of a large expanse of land. Rainbow recognised the layout: this was a farm, once. The house close to what passed for the thoroughfare, for access; paddocks laid out as orderly as the landscape allowed, slight hills and depressions creating a natural sense of flow to the space.
“On me,” Cirrus said, then dived, making for the house. Following, Rainbow noted the cracks splitting open brown earth, withered trees and the deathly silence. The farm had been parched, just like everything else around here. Was that the Storm?
The house was deserted, and had been ransacked already, the family that had lived here taking most everything they could get their hooves on before fleeing. Shelves had been emptied, cupboards left hanging open, bedding stripped and clothes left haphazardly across the floors. It only took a minute for them to reassemble in the living room.
“Nothing inside,” Crisp confirmed. “We’d be able to feel it if it was here.”
“Barn’s empty. I’ve got wagon tracks outside,” Blitz said. “Reckon they took it with them. We’ll have to follow the tracks north.”
“Good. Crisp, Rainbow, watch the sky. Blitz, you’re with me, stay low and keep your eyes peeled. I don’t want us caught off-guard.”
They flew, all four just a few metres off the ground. Rainbow kept her eyes up, but mostly she listened. There was a sense she had, a feeling regarding the movement of air around her, the winds rising and falling in predictable patterns, everything ordered and sensible. The last time she’d encountered a dragon, however, she’d noticed that that felt off, somehow, as if it was interfering with nature itself. She’d only made the connection afterwards, when the adrenaline had worn off, but now she had a chance to put the theory into action.
They couldn’t move too fast, for fear of losing the trail amidst the broken vegetation and rock-hard earth, and between her vigilance, the lulling monotony of her steady wing-beats, and the avatar of violence keeping pace with them, back on the horizon, Rainbow began to fidget. She’d rock, side-to-side, spinning a little more each time, until she was spiralling, flying intermittently on her back, eyes roving the blue sky above. She’d flick her tail, first at nothing in particular, then when that failed to draw a reaction, at Blitz, or Crisp. She didn’t quite dare flick Cirrus.
It was a good fifteen minutes before they saw their target. Three ponies, stumbling northwards amidst so much brown emptiness. The air, rushing past her, howled, a forlorn sound. Rainbow felt her heart skip a beat, ducking her head and hunching her shoulders, falling out of position to swoop down towards the ground.
“Rainbow,” Cirrus barked, falling towards her. “Stay back, damn it!”
The ponies were dragging a large wagon behind them, cloth pulled taut over the top of it, forming a tall arch that could have held all manner of keepsakes and supplies. It tumbled along the uneven ground, wheels kicking up dust and the odd stone. She couldn’t see inside it, just yet, but soon . . .
She felt a hoof grasp her shoulder, throw her backwards to tumble through the air. Spluttering, Rainbow let herself tumble head over tail a few times, the drag reducing her velocity, before snapping her wings out to their fullest, catching the air and halting her spin. She glared at Cirrus, who ignored her, drawing forward to hover, following the three ponies from a few hundred feet, up in the air. They hadn’t noticed anything, yet, though from the way they tossed their heads from side-to-side, it couldn’t be long.
Crisp flew up alongside Rainbow. “Think, you idiot,” she said. “Why’d they only leave now? Everypony else was gone from this region days ago. Not them. What, they stuck around to smell the roses?”
“Uhh,” Rainbow frowned.
“Yeah. Look at Cirrus. What’s she doing?”
“Just . . .” Rainbow swallowed, traced Cirrus’ eye line. The captain’s wings flickered with magic. “Just watching.”
“And?”
“And,” a horrible thought occurred to Rainbow, “and they might be thralls.”
“Yeah,” Crisp said, quietly. “They could be. We can’t know anything much about what we’re doing, here—for our own protection, as much as theirs. That makes this dangerous. Like, really dangerous.”
“Thralls wouldn’t move north, though, Rainbow mused. “Not unless they . . . oh, ponyfeathers.”
Crisp bit her lip. “Bait. Yeah.”
Cirrus let out a loud cry, swooped forward, Blitz hot on her tail. Rainbow started forward instinctively, only to be blocked by Crisp’s hoof. “Watch.”
Whisper quiet, the Chasers swept down upon the three ponies still moving on the plain. Cirrus dropped down, brushed past the cloth covering the wagon, her wing cutting cleanly through the material with ease. She continued on, flapping once and twisting, to hurtle past the three ponies, coming within inches of their hide. Her wake hit them moments later, the wind causing them to stumble, and set their manes and tails to fluttering, like grass in a storm.
Blitz pulled up, dropped his hind legs, and settled down on the back edge of the wagon, his head already peering forward. He slipped inside.
A beat, while Cirrus completed her twist and circled around, rapidly gaining height, the attention of all three ponies fixed on her, climbing out of reach . . .
And then Blitz exploded out through the tear Cirrus had made, wings beating rapidly, something glinting off his mouth.
Crisp dropped her hoof and flew forward, Rainbow hot on her heels. The three ponies had stopped moving.
“Damn thing bit me,” Blitz said, as they came up alongside him, putting distance between themselves and the wagon. Rainbow glanced at him, saw blood trickling down his flank. Puncture wounds—sharp edges and deep, bit into the muscle, and the flesh around them was torn. Teeth, Rainbow realised.
“That it?” Crisp asked.
“Nah,” Blitz said, holding up the chain he’d taken. “I was rooting around. There’s more than mementos in there, though.”
“You sure?” Rainbow said, eyeing the wagon. It remained still, a faint breeze fluttering the fabric. It’s owners still hadn’t moved.
“Yeah. I could feel it. Like a pressure, in the air.”
“Great.”
“Report!” Cirrus called, joining them.
This was getting weird. If they’d been lured here, the trap should have snapped shut by now. What were they waiting for? Rainbow looked around again, then pushed her senses out as far as she could, straining.
“They’re not thralls,” Cirrus was saying. “I don’t . . .”
Rainbow felt something. A telltale tremor of nervousness spasmed its way through her body, running down her spine and spreading through each wing. But, it wasn’t . . . the edges of her awareness remained clear. Scanning the horizon she saw nothing save the Stormwall, slowly approaching from the south. They’d kept pace with it, thankfully, but it would swallow them within the hour.
“Captain,” she snapped, breaking the conversation. “How far to the retreat? Where’s Luna fighting?”
“A day, maybe more?” Crisp said, shrugging. Then she looked back down at the ground. “They’re not thralls. Stars, they’ll never make it.”
“They were delayed,” Cirrus said, frowning. “Had to be. Why?”
The wagon moved. Rainbow turned her attention to it, and felt that trembling apprehension triple. She gulped. “We’re about to find out.”
And the wagon’s axles splintered, dropping the floor to the ground, its fabric tore as a huge, sickly green shape expanded through it, unwinding, growing, snapping into the sky as it lunged for them. A deafening roar preceded it.
“Break!” Cirrus screamed, and dove to the left. Rainbow, on pure instinct, shot up, racing it into the air.
She had a head start. But it had been able to kick off the ground, and it was still expanding, whatever shapeshifting magic it had employed to remain hidden amidst the wagon having the effect of propelling it faster still. A mouth, cavernous, came just feet away from Rainbow’s tail before the momentum of its initial lunge began to wear off.
Panting with adrenaline, Rainbow glanced down to see a dragon falling away from her, inscrutable eyes flashing with sunlight. Monstrously huge, the beast dwarfed just about anything Rainbow had come across before, easily hundreds of feet long. Celestia, it was going to crush everything on the ground.
No. Narrowing her eyes, she could see three bolts of colour rocketing out form underneath its bulk. They’d had the same thought—used Rainbow as a distraction to get the ponies clear. She sighed in relief.
Briefly, she entertained the thought of going after the amulet. It seemed important—important enough to send four Chasers after it, when there was still so much work to be done. It was down there, in amidst the remains of the wagon. Except . . . maybe something Cirrus had said had actually stuck around, because Rainbow paused.
Was it down there?
Blitz could have sensed the dragon. They had no confirmation that anything magical was accompanying these three at all, save for their initial mission and location. And Rainbow had no real desire to go up against this thing on the half-chance that there was a reward glittering on the other side.
It wasn’t worth it.
So she spun northward, raced across the sky after the other Chasers. She caught them easily, with their rescuees weighing them down. Unfortunately, so did the dragon.
She felt another burst of power. Glancing over her shoulder, Rainbow let out a squawk, scrambling to get out of the way as the dragon came rushing past.
She had to draw on her frustration, just a little—she’d been trying to do that less, lately—for enough speed to clear it. Even then, the slipstream was a weapon all in itself. A wall of wind hit her, as surely as if it had been brick, and sent her tumbling towards the ground.
She hit hard, bouncing a few times as she bled momentum onto the cracked earth, losing fur and skin until eventually grinding to a halt. Blearily, she looked up, saw the dragon twisting in the air, trying to catch the Chasers buzzing around it like flies.
Rainbow tried to stand, and immediately felt a white-hot searing pain tear through her front leg. Already swelling, there was a long lump where the bone was clearly broken, and the skin was grazed badly. She fell back down, and panted, grinding her teeth in between breaths.
Not everypony had been as lucky as her. Blitz must have taken a much more direct hit from the charge—late to react, perhaps, though more likely the pony he was carrying had simply hampered him too much. He lay motionless, just a dozen or so feet from Rainbow, his burden a few feet further still. She could see their chests rising and falling. Unconscious.
She started dragging herself over to Blitz, hissing as her bad leg scraped the ground.
From where she lay, she could see Cirrus gathering energy around her wings. This close to the ground, and with the sky largely obstructed by the dragon, she couldn’t reach her full heights. That didn’t mean she didn’t pack a mean punch.
Lightning flickered out, splitting the air between her and the beast in an instance, and scored a series of flickering impacts on its hide. The dragon roared, and twisted away, but it was nothing more than an inconvenience.
If even that. It’s tail lashed out, turning with the beast, directly at Cirrus. Crisp was there, tackling the captain out of the way. The tail flew over them.
Rainbow blinked. Where were the others? Surely they hadn’t found the time to put them down?
She reached Blitz, ran a wing over him. Minor scrapes and lumps, thank Celestia. Then, her wing hit something sticky. Blood was gathering at the edges of his body, and with a grunt she hauled him over, to see a much larger wound. Something had torn across his lower back, gouging out flesh. She could see the edges of his spine.
Rainbow took a moment to fight down her queasiness. She rose, as best as she could, over him, draping herself over his wings. She closed her eyes, tried to close her nose against the coppery scent, the warmth of the air. She gathered up her pent-up anger, her burning, incessant desire to return home, and she brought forth the storm.
Differing species of Coromancer used different foci. Unicorns had their horns, earth ponies their legs, or hooves. Pegasi used wings.
Air began to move. A sudden wind, arcing over and under Rainbow’s outstretched limb, generating lift that helped ease her off Blitz’s body. It rubbed together, swirled, formed eddies and pools of stillness. Turbulence.
Lightning began to crackle, feeding off her will. It started near the small of her back, spread out to tingle, running between feathers. With effort, Rainbow focused it down to a small patch, a blade of electricity, held humming and steady. She fed it power, drawn from desire and it crackled its expression.
Slowly, biting her lip, head turned away, she brought that edge down into her friend’s wound.
Instantly, he bucked. Cauterised flesh smoked, a little, and she couldn’t stop herself from smelling it. She clung to him, tears springing to her eyes. She needed to see what she was doing.
She forced herself to look, held her throat shut, refusing the food already in her throat. Quickly, before she could think about it, she lowered her wing again, touching its tip to the exposed vessels, searing them shut.
It took entirely too long. About thirty seconds of intense focus, before she finished wrapping his body in cloth from her saddlebag, turned away, gasping, throwing herself off his body. She didn’t feel her leg at all, couldn’t care about it as she threw up, noisily.
Finally, she turned back to the battle. It was closer, now, just a hundred feet away. Abruptly, she understood. Cirrus and Crisp had gotten their ponies clear—but they’d had to hold its attention. They were providing a distraction, a fighting retreat.
She looked back at Blitz, and at the pony unconscious beyond him. Neither of them were going anywhere right now.
She flew to the pony Blitz had rescued and inspected him, brusquely. No major wounds—had Blitz sheltered him with his body? Coromancer durability would have helped him withstand the impact, far more than a normal farm-pony.
She draped the body over Blitz’s wound, hoping the additional weight would keep pressure on it, and rose into the air.
A retreat wasn’t going to work. Cirrus was waiting for Blitz—and Rainbow—to get up, so that they could flee. That left two options. They could abandon the mission, and the ponies here. Or they could fight.
Rainbow grit her teeth. She didn’t want this—had no desire left in her for the reality of violence. She had scars aplenty, from nicks and cuts, had mental trauma that still hadn’t begun to fade. Flashes of light, the faint scent of blood wafting through a window. But there was no give in her, no choice to make. And she thought she knew what Cirrus would want from her, too.
All came tumbling together, a wave of repressed feeling swelling up inside her, tumultuous, a storm of emotion.
She’d talked endlessly, about home, had turned to exercise and training, as she had before. Nothing provided solace from the growing heartache of distance.
She’d spent hours reflecting, assessing reason and motivation, grasping at straws as she tried to justify the old thrill of competition, the vicious satisfaction that might’ve, maybe, possibly begun to grip her, two years ago.
She’d flown with these pegasi, these warriors. Practised, trained, learnt. Shared meals, and laughter, and stories of the past. That friendship had a power to it, a steady thrum of current that sparked, at the sight before her, an inferno.
Rainbow shot forward, multicoloured streams of air exploding out behind her. She crossed the hundred feet in half an instant, hurtling towards the dragon’s chest, its centre-of-mass. She reached forward as she did it, screaming, sweeping her wings forward to unleash the prismatic energy gathered around her.
She hit it hard, lifting it off the ground a few metres. Leathery skin blistered, ruptured under her impact, welling up with thick blood. She heard a tremendous crack, and a bellow of pain and surprise, and as the dragon beat its wings, rising with the hit, Rainbow tumbled to the ground.
She focused on her breathing, tried to keep the blackness from creeping in on the edges of her vision. She just didn’t have the fine control or the capacity to redirect energy a Conduit did—she couldn’t stop the impact from hitting her just as hard, merely brace herself against it. She felt her lip curl: Fluttershy always had been better, going up against dragons.
She tried to find the emotion that had propelled her, gather the fraying remnants of will.
And then the dragon roared, and a sudden, peripheral, heat splashed out across her limp body.
Fear, the pulsing beat of anger, the desperate desire to move, to get back on your hooves, damn it—all fled. She felt stunned, as if she’d been slapped, a dizzying, dreamlike fugue descending over her thoughts. She slumped backwards, eyes wide and disbelieving, the dragon towering over her. There was no urgency to her study, just an academic interest, following its motions. It lifted a foot, held it high above her, and then sent it hurtling earth-wards.
Something hit her in the side, sent her tumbling across the ground. Fresh pain flared up in her broken arm, and she gasped, abruptly brought back to the present. Twisting, she saw Cirrus lying a few feet from her, shaking her head.
“Wha-”
Cirrus’s eyes locked onto her. “Get up! Rainbow, I swear to Luna, if you make me come over there-” interrupted by the dragon, long sinuous movements bringing its body towards them.
Rainbow flapped her wings, tried to ignore the screams of protest from her arm. She rolled over midair, stabilised, reached for the familiar core of power. And felt nothing.
All just . . . gone. She stared at Cirrus, airborne once more, flitting about the dragon as it tried to swat her from the air. Not a whisper touched her mind. She glanced at her forearm, bone now jutting from through the skin, blood trickling through her dust-coated fur. Debilitating, she realised, without rancour. She began to tremble.
“Rainbow!” Crisp, now, joining her. “It drains magic. You’re okay.”
Ah. That made sense. Rainbow nodded at Crisp. “What now?”
She bit her lip. “We’ve gotta draw him away long enough for one of us to get Blitz out. Cirrus isn’t going to be able to distract him forever.”
Rainbow could see that. For all of the captain’s skill and agility, all it would take is one mistake, one well-placed blow, and she’d be out of the fight. Hell, for that matter all it would take is for the dragon to get bored playing swat-the-pegasus and turn on somepony else.
“Alright,” Rainbow said. “I don’t think I can Jump right now.”
Crisp reached out, then hesitated. “Luck, Rainbow,” she said instead, offering a tight smile.
Rainbow nodded. It didn’t seem like a big deal, to be honest. She sped forward, noting the ever-familiar ache right at the base of her wing-joints, just below the shoulder.
She tagged Cirrus, dropping just close enough to her to make sure she’d felt Rainbow’s passage, then sped straight up towards the dragon’s face. She remembered how she’d gotten their attention, in the past. She remembered how Fluttershy had done it, too.
She paused, midair, fixing her gaze on one of the dragon’s eyes. It hesitated just for an instant, then lunged forward. Rainbow, leaping backwards mid-air, matched it, and settled down on three limbs, to stand on its muzzle.
The dragon went cross-eyed, clearly startled. Using her wings to assist, Rainbow stepped forward, closing in on its forehead, then drew herself up and, spinning around, gave it a buck. Her hooves impacted its hide with a dull thump.
She had absolutely no effect—and she hadn’t expected to. But the gesture was contemptuous and impertinent, and the dragon let out a cough of smoke, then shook its head violently. She was flung from her perch, and caught her balance midair just in time to avoid its fangs, flashing brightly as they leapt for her.
She heard a loud boom: Crisp, leaving the area, rapidly followed by two more. She twirled a little, making sure she still had the dragon’s attention. It stepped forward, jaws filling up with liquid fire, dripping to the ground and sizzling there.
Cirrus zapped its flank with lightning.
Time to go.
Crisp flew into her peripheral vision, moving towards them.
The dragon unleashed its fire, Cirrus darting to get out of the way. It washed past her, and she stumbled, wings falling out of their synchronous rhythm, face registering surprise, then dispassionate calm.
Rainbow winced, felt a spark—worry, terror, panic—ignite. She clung to it, like a beacon leading her from a deep fog.
Cirrus fell like a stone, plummeting, and Crisp tore forward, barrelling into the captain’s side. The dragon roared again, turning back to Rainbow. She could swear she saw it smirking, in that reptilian way, baring its teeth.
She felt more than heard the fourth crack as Crisp split time. Rainbow smiled back, felt a prickle as hope washed over her. Pins and needles, a limb waking from sleep.
“Just you and me, now, big guy,” she said.
All alone, free to unleash her speed without worrying about drawing others into his line-of-fire—Rainbow chuckled, under her breath—that was more her speed. Rainbow darted forward, swinging to the side then hugging the body, winding around him. She could see the rippling muscle and tendon, moving beneath the scales and skin. Bursting with power, with eager violence, it gave her a good idea of where he was moving next.
Unfortunate. Like a minotaur trying to kill a fly, she couldn’t harm him, and he stood little to no chance of harming her. She buzzed around, made periodic motions towards his eyes and face—just enough, she judged, to keep him angry, to threaten one of his few weak-points. And all the while she could feel herself steadying, feel the after-effects of his fire dissipating.
She swept under a reaching arm, traced a hoof along his armpit on her way around, slipped between two spines on his back and came around the side of his head, tracing a wingtip charged with nascent lightning against his ear. She gloried in it, in the wind rushing around her, the sweat and exertion, the sense of push-and-pull—a relationship intense and fulfilling. The heat gave her advance notice, as did the bulge in his throat, the arch of his back and sudden tenseness in his neck. She folded her wings tight and plummeted, felt the fire pass harmlessly above her.
Even so, she could feel the telltale signs of exhaustion creeping in. She was breathing hard, feeling the air rasp against her throat. She could feel the blood pulsing through her broken arm—the shock slowly wearing off. Adrenaline and need had taken her so far, but there were limits to everything. She needed to get gone, and soon.
So, spotting a gap, she dived for the distant remains of the wagon.
She didn’t know a huge deal about dragons. About why they’d be doing things like laying traps for Coromancers returning to help refugees, or why they’d want Coromantic artefacts in the first place. Still, true to what little she had heard, they had demonstrated an intense interest in powered objects, things charged with energy, or emotion, or sentiment.
She grabbed the nearest bauble: a locket, sweeping down upon it like a bird of prey, and, drawing forth some little of her flagging power, sent it coursing through her wings to ripple across the gilded brass chain. She whipped it up in her teeth, spinning midair, and made to fling it behind herself, glittering.
And flared her wings, bringing herself to an abrupt halt.
The dragon hadn’t followed. He sat on the ground, eyeing her, one claw raised before him. Wrapped inside, a talon resting lightly against his chest—one of the three they’d followed out here.
No.
She’d counted, right? Blitz, first, then the one she’d left over him. Two more, and . . . four. She’d only counted four.
Shit.
“I have a proposition for you, prey,” the dragon said, his voice rumbling even over the distance between them.
“Oh for crying out loud,” Rainbow said. She drifted closer, eyes on his captive all the while. Reaching a range she judged she could shout from: “It’s always the deals with you guys. Can’t handle being out-flown, huh?”
“As I recall it, twas you who attacked I,” he said.
Rainbow snorted. “Because we’re so threatening. Forget it. Been down that road.”
The pony in his grip struggled for a moment, and opened his mouth before the talon pressed inwards. A trickle of blood appeared.
“Are you sure,” the dragon said. “Consider carefully.”
Rainbow forced a note of bravado into her voice. “Kill him, or let him go. Just stop wasting my time.”
The dragon chuckled. “Hear that, little prey?” he said, leaning his head down to address his captive. “Very well.”
And with a crack the sky split open and Rainbow—another Rainbow—appeared, hurtling from the time-stream and screaming, “Wait!”
Rainbow stared. The captive pony stared. The dragon paused, and grinned.
“You’ll pay for this exertion, you know,” he said. “Weeks, in total, I should think.”
Rainbow ignored him. “He was going to do it,” she said, quietly. “But you’re in no danger. Not really. If he had wanted—had really wanted—to kill you, you’d be dead.”
“Fucking dragons,” Rainbow replied.
“Fucking dragons,” Rainbow agreed.
“What do I do?”
“What you’re best at,” Rainbow said, smiling at her past self. “Brag. Lie through your teeth.”
“Heh. I can do that.”
She flew a little closer, feigned a lack of nervousness. Though, after a moment’s thought, that turned into real confidence—the tremors and darting glances at escape routes and possible threats fading away. She’d spent a long time worrying about Fate. About predestination. This, though, this was devious. Her future self need do nothing but hang back, and be here, to confirm that Rainbow would escape this scenario. She was, for all intents and purposes, immortal, unkillable, indestructible. Fate went both ways, after all—and Rainbow had decided long ago that she’d make her own luck. The inversion sent a ripple of giggles through her, and though the dragon didn’t budge, she fancied she saw a faint tinge of wariness fill his eyes.
“You know, you probably think you’re pretty tough, eh, big guy? Well, I don’t know if you’d have heard of this . . .” Rainbow let her smile grow slowly, eyes narrowing, “acquaintance of mine. Goes by Agyrt. Agyrt Vaeros.”
An immediate reaction. The dragon slumped a little, relaxed his grip on his captive.
“Well, the last time we made a deal, I beat the snot out of him. In fact-”
The dragon had placed the pony on the ground, and was waving a claw at her, amusement now writ large on his face. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. You were saying?”
“A namedrop?” Rainbow asked. “That’s it? That’s all it took?”
“You ponies,” he said, “can be so arrogant. No matter.” He rose up, unfurled his wings, and took off—suddenly moving fast, far faster than he had been, an economy of strength propelling him south. Towards the Storm. The Storm that, Rainbow now noticed, was only a few miles away.
She gulped, and flew back to her double. Frowning, “I’m confused.”
“You’ll realise what just happened eventually,” Rainbow said, smiling. “I did.” Concern touched her face, and she reached forward, took Rainbow into her arms. “Come on. This was a good outcome, for everypony. Let’s get you some rest.”
And, gathering up the shell-shocked survivor, they moved north—as fast as Rainbow could manage.