Chapter 1 - Something Wicked

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Sunlight blared down from a pale sky, and practically no one in the small group of students could see properly through the glare. For her part, the guest lecturer was doing her part to make sure they were deaf as well as blind.

“This is a standard Mark-2 Triple-D Compressed Air Cannon!” Lightning Dust shouted, slapping the side of the garishly painted artillery while glaring at the six students with her one good eye, the other covered with a black eyepatch. “It is the fastest, most exciting way to get any pony into the air regardless of how many wings they have, and it is perfectly safe!”

Professor Sunburst leaned in to whisper into her ear. She didn’t visibly react.

“I have been informed I am not legally allowed to tell you it is perfectly safe!” she shouted, in the same drill instructor voice as before. “However, it is still exciting and fast! It’s equipment like this that shows the difference between the Wonderbolts and the Washouts -- none of you are Wonderbolts material! Mostly because none of you are pegasus ponies! But all of you could be Washouts, if you have the guts!”

Sunburst leaned in again to whisper.

“I’ve been informed the Wonderbolts are non-exclusionary and they do have positions for all creatures who show the appropriate amount of talent! But they’re still big jerks about it! I’m not a jerk! I’m the pony that’s going to stuff you into a cannon and fire you through the air to land safely in that net!”

Lightning Dust pointed to the other end of the buckball pitch. A wide net was set up at an angle. Two other Washouts waved from downfield. Sunburst cleared his throat, but before he could whisper a third time, Dust held up a hoof.

“And if you do not land safely, remember you signed liability forms and can’t sue the Washouts or the School of Friendship! Any questions?”

Luster Dawn raised her hoof. To her shock, Lightning Dust pointed behind her.

“The green pony was a little faster on the draw. They go first.”

Dawn looked back and saw everypony staring at Larrikin. The kelpie smiled happily with their hoof raised.

“How did you lose your eye?” Larrikin asked. “Was it a stunt?”

“That is an excellent question!” Lightning Dust said. “It’s also rude to ask, but that’s okay because you should never be afraid to be rude when it gets you what you want!”

Sunburst didn’t even have to whisper. He just looked at her.

“By which I mean don’t be a pushover!” Dust corrected. “Not that you should be rude for no reason! The important thing is, my injury happened because there are always risks you can’t anticipate in any stunt, no matter how much you prepare and how careful you are.”

Dust started to lose some of the harsh instructor edge as she spoke, pacing back and forth in front of the small class.

“Rockets can misfire, even when they’re carefully designed. You can calculate the angle of a ramp or jump perfectly, but building it in the real world means it can end up just a little off. A flight routine you do a hundred times in practice can turn into a crash because you get distracted or lose focus or just catch a breeze wrong.”

She took a deep breath and sighed.

“Wonderbolts routines are designed so there’s a safety margin. Somepony is a little out of position and it’s not a big deal. There aren’t flaming hoops you need to thread, everything is done a hundred times to make sure it’s safe, they don’t rely on equipment that might break, and there are always two ponies on the ground watching every pony in the air.”

Dust slapped the side of the cannon again.

“That’s where we come in. We don’t need that margin. Unlike the Wonderbolts, crashing and burning is half of what the crowds come to see! They want to see us succeed, but every time we do a stunt they know we actually could fail, there’s real risk and drama and excitement! We’ve got earth ponies jumping over canyons on bobsleds, unicorns showing off the latest and greatest inventions and spells, and pegasus ponies like me flying the most death-defying routines in all of Equestria! Who needs a bunch of military brats flying approved formations by the book?!”

“...But how did you lose your eye?” Larrikin asked again.

Dust coughed and looked away, mumbling something.

“What?” Larrikin asked.

“She said she flew inta’ a bloody hornet without her goggles on,” Arteria said. She adjusted her sunglasses just to make sure they were still there, in case of hornets.

“I didn’t lose my eye,” Dust said, her cheeks pink. “But I have to wear this stupid thing for a week and I can’t fly until I have depth perception again.”

“I think the eyepatch looks cool,” Larrikin said.

“Right!” Lightning Dust agreed. “It is cool! So who wants to get shot out of the cannon first?” She pointed to Luster Dawn. “Great! A volunteer!”

“Huh? No, I still had a few--” Dust pulled her to her hooves and started walking her over to the cannon. “I had some questions!” Dawn yelled.

“Make them quick,” Dust said.

“Why do you use compressed air?”

“Oh, well, the Mark-0 used gunpowder and didn’t get past the testing phase. Turns out it was really amazing for stunts but had longevity issues.”

“Longevity issues?”

“All the test dummies came out of the cannon in small chunks.”

“...That’s been fixed, right?” Dawn asked, digging her hooves into the ground.

“Sure! And unlike the Mark-1, it uses cool compressed air instead of hot steam, so you won’t even need burn cream!” Dust patted her back. “You’ll be fine. Do you think they’d let me teach a class here while I recover if they weren’t sure it was safe?”

“Didn’t they also send Sunburst to make sure--”

“Don’t sweat the small stuff!” Dust said, picking Dawn up and dropping her into the cannon. “Remember, tuck and roll to stick the landing!”

Dawn shrieked as the cannon went off with a humongous poof, not quite an explosion but more like somebody shook up a huge soda bottle and popped the cap. She soared through the air in a way unicorns weren’t supposed to soar, spinning end-over-end. Ground. Sky. Ground. Sky. Net!

She hit the rope like a moth hitting a spider’s web.

“Did you die?” Larrikin shouted.

“No,” Dawn groaned.

“What did I tell you?” Dust said. “Totally safe! Who’s next?”

Lightning Dust coughed, fighting her way through strangely back smoke and fog. “Kid? Are you alive?”

“I’m okay,” Phantasma whispered, stepping out of the gloom. “I’m so sorry. I got scared and went all incorporeal and then the compressed air hit and--”

“Usually that only happens after I eat food from Mexicolt. You go sit down and I hope your stomach feels better.”

“That’s not what I meant--”

“Next!”

“Ground hooks,” Lightning Dust said slowly. It was the only time she’d slowed down all day, and that was because she felt like the whole world had gone mad.

“Right,” Arteria said, nodding. She tugged on the secure harness around her barrel. “Clever, ain’t it? Don’t chafe my wings at all since Berlioz helped me with the straps, an’ the hooks keep me anchored to the ground so I don’t go fallin’ into the sky!”

“You can’t fall into the sky,” Dust said. “You can fall out of the sky but… you’ve got wings. What are you scared of?”

Arteria pulled her sunglasses down an inch to look at Dust directly. “Mate, you ever had a shockin’ look at the wild blue yonder? Oath, the thing goes on forever with no ceilin’! One wrong move and you won’t be able to hear the ground or anythin’ else at all! Could get lost and end up goin’ straight up forever!”

Dust stared for a few more moments at the two hooks the batpony was using to stay firmly attached to the ground.

“Next!” Dust shouted.

“I don’t think this is going to work,” Ibis said.

“No, no, if we just… if you can suck in your gut--” Lightning Dust mumbled, thinking.

“Even if I suck in my gut, I won’t fit,” Ibis noted. The sphinx started drawing in the dirt with a claw. “Of course there’s a bigger issue, if you’ll forgive the size pun. I calculated the force of your cannon from Luster Dawn’s approximate weight and size, and even if I was somehow able to get into the cannon, the impulse and total energy of the launch apparatus just isn’t enough.”

She scribbled down numbers and curves. Dust watched for a few moments and totally lost track of what meant what when Ibis started using letters and then hieroglyphics in the math.

“You know what, I’ll just take your word for it,” Dust said. “Next!”

“Berlioz does not understand the appeal,” the diamond dog grumbled, from where he was lying well short of the net.

“He’s heavier than he looks,” Lightning Dust noted. “Hey! You want another go? I’m sure we can hit the net this time!”

“Berlioz is just going to lie here for a while.”

“Your loss. Next!”

“You’re the right size,” Dust said. “You won’t turn into smoke. Not afraid of heights. You aren’t secretly explosive or something, right?” She was getting frustrated with the class. Shooting ponies out of a cannon should have been easy. This class full of weirdos was making it difficult.

“Nope!” Larrikin said, happily. “I don’t even think I’m flammable.”

Dust nodded with approval. It would have made things easier if all the ponies she had to deal with on a daily basis were inflammable. Unflammable? Flame resistant! Words were difficult at the end of the day and the wasp sting to her eye was sore.

“Perfect,” Dust said. “At least we’re ending on a high note.”

She helped Larrikin get loaded into the cannon, pulled the firing cord, and watched the strange green pony get flung through the air, hit the net, and splatter like a rotten tomato.

“Oh buck, I’m going to end up in prison again!” Dust screamed.

“I liked it when she tried to give me CPR,” Larrikin said, as they walked back to their dorm rooms. “I was okay already but I really appreciated the effort.”

“She thought you were dead!” Luster Dawn groaned. “And I can’t blame her. What happened?”

“Turns out I don’t handle high-speed impacts well,” Larrikin shrugged. “It felt like my whole body sneezed, and then I was just all over the place!”

Berlioz shook his head. “Why do ponies like being shot out of cannon?”

“If they used a trebuchet they’d be able to accommodate creatures of much more varying size,” Ibis said.

“You can fly any time you want,” Dawn said. “You have wings.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Ibis said. “It isn’t inclusive. I would have enjoyed experiencing uncontrolled ballistic flight just as much as the next creature if I was allowed to.”

“Aw, don’t look so up about things!” Arteria bumped into Ibis in what was probably supposed to be a gesture of support. “You got do to all that funny maths with spirals and them funny drinking birds and waves!”

“I did enjoy the math,” Ibis admitted. "I don't think she was used to hieroglyphic calculus, though. She didn't seem to grasp the notation."

“Exactly! If I can put up with havin’ to be outside with no bloody ceilin’ and only me ground hooks t’ keep me from flyin’ off to the moon, you can put with with anythin’!”

“I can’t believe I turned into smoke,” Phantasma squeaked. “It was so embarrassing!”

“It’s natural to have a reaction when you’re surprised like that,” Dawn assured her. “Yours was just… to become a terrifying incorporeal mist and immediately get blown apart by compressed air.”

“Oy, that mare’s face when th’ whole cannon exploded with smoke was priceless!” Arteria cackled. “I’d pay twenty bits to see it again!”

“It was a little funny,” Dawn admitted. “Hey, since we have to write a report on what we learned, do you all want to go to the library together tomorrow so we can do it as a group?”

“Is Larrikin allowed in the library?” Phantasma asked.

“They were only banned for a month after the incident,” Ibis said. “The ban expired last Tuesday.”

“Perfect!” Dawn said, trailing off to a yawn. “Figures that I finally get used to being a night owl and then Principal Starlight brings a guest speaker in for a special class in the middle of the day.”

“I think we could all use some sleep,” Phantasma said.

Dawn agreed, fighting back another yawn.

The school library was huge. No library funded by Princess Twilight Sparkle would ever be small, of course. A small library was incomplete. How could students be expected to do proper research without resources to cross-reference facts, find opposing opinions, and absorb the latest texts?

Luster Dawn didn’t exactly love the library -- her teacher did, naturally (to the point a lot of ponies called her The Princess of Books behind her back), but Dawn liked being out in the field. There was something about finding things out for yourself that just couldn’t be matched. Subtle clues that only she could find, not having to rely on the interpretation of somepony else.

What didn’t help was that the library kept changing. She was trying to find a specific book, but every time she walked through the shelves they’d change when she wasn’t looking and whole new subjects and categories would appear. Last time she’d taken this corner she’d found books on high-energy geology, and now that she was thinking of grabbing the textbook she’d spotted on explosionquakes, the whole section had been replaced by books filled with pictures of fish in dresses that discussed seapony fashion.

A shadow loomed over her, and she glanced back at Princess Luna.

“Do you need a book on hats for dolphins?” Luster asked. “If they’re not made correctly the hat blocks their blowholes and they suffocate.”

“No, thank you,” Luna said. “I apologize for this. I’m looking for something in particular.”

“So am I,” Dawn sighed, putting the book back. “Have you seen a card catalog anywhere?”

Luna ignored her and reared up, her horn shining. When she came down in a powerful stomp, the shelves fell away, collapsing into the ground and leaving them in a clearing in the middle of the woods, stone monoliths surrounding them.
Luster was starting to realize something odd was going on.

The dark princess trotted over to the monoliths, muttering to herself and taking careful note of the symbols.

“You have an amazing memory,” Luna muttered, more to herself than Luster Dawn. “These are quite accurate, but I need to see what they said before they were defaced.”

She looked up, and the sun and moon streaked across the sky, so fast it became like a strobe light. Dawn caught the indistinct images of ponies, blurred across time and space. The moon suddenly slammed into place, and the world came to a halt.

Red and gold cloth was draped around the clearing like a festival had come to the middle of the Everfree.

And a pony in a robe was glaring at her from inches away.

Dawn shrieked in alarm and stumbled back from the snarling face of Azure Fire, the school bully who had made Canterlot more like Tartarus and who had ended up being a cultist who wanted to doom all of Equestria and replace Princess Twilight on the throne with some kind of magical horror.

Azure Fire didn’t react, standing as still as a statue.

Nothing, in fact, was moving. It was all perfectly still, even the flames in the braziers caught as unmoving as a photograph.

Luna looked over the nearest standing stone. “Hm. Yes…”

“Uh,” Dawn said.

“So the magi did reconstruct most of this correctly. I don’t see any serious mistakes, but…” Luna mumbled, ignoring her.

“Princess? Is this a dream?” Dawn tugged on Luna’s tail, which was probably unwise, but she seemed too absorbed in what she was doing to notice much else.

“Hm?” Luna looked back. “Oh. Yes. I apologize for the intrusion. I was merely doing some double-checking.”

“On the cult?” Dawn asked. “But they’ve been dealt with already, haven’t they?”

“Yes, indeed, they have been,” Luna said, her voice flat. “There is nothing to be concerned about. And while I know from speaking with Twilight Sparkle that telling you nothing is wrong only drives you to do your own research, I assure you that I speak the truth. Much like you in the library, I have been doing… academic research.”

“Research about what?”

“It is of no matter. I have been rude and treated you like a tome on a library shelf instead of a pony.” Luna’s horn glittered, and something fell onto Dawn’s head.

Dawn grabbed it, and found herself holding a slightly iridescent silver coin, glimmering with a rainbow when she turned it to look at the two sides, one emblazoned with Luna’s profile and the other with a map of the moon.

“It is a token for a dream of your choice, to be redeemed at a future time,” Luna said.

“Uh… thanks?” Dawn said, confused.

“I have centuries of experience in crafting dreams,” Luna explained. “Consider it an invitation to have one professionally made. Thank you for your time.”

“Wait, you didn’t answer me about why--”

“--you needed to see the clearing!” Dawn gasped, sitting up in bed. She looked around her room, eyes bleary. “Did she do that on purpose?”

The image of the shining coin came to her, and she looked around her bed, half-expecting to find it under her pillow.

“Why would it be here?” Dawn sighed “It was just a dream.”

She sat there for a few long moments. It had just been a dream. It might not have even been the real Luna. Princess Luna was retired. She didn’t get involved in things anymore except the one or two times a year she got trotted out for a ceremonial round of waving at the crowd.

The best thing for Dawn to do was ignore it, trust that even if it had been Luna that the alicorn was more than capable of dealing with whatever was going on, and go back to bed.

That would definitely have been the wise thing to do.

“...So anyway, I decided to come here instead of going back to sleep,” Dawn said.

Principal Starlight smiled weakly. “I got that, thanks.”

“So I’ve been thinking about what we can do,” Dawn continued. “I could write to Princess Luna, but maybe it would be better coming from you so it would be more official and she might like that more.”

“Dawn, calm down,” Starlight said.

“I am calm,” Dawn said. “I know she’ll be fine. I just want to make sure. And I can offer to help, if she needs help. I mean, she had to go through my memories, so she must need at least a little help. And they were my memories, so I should be the one to help, right?”

“I just talked to Princess Twilight and Princess Luna a few hours ago,” Starlight said. She held up a hoof before Dawn could ask questions. “It was just a normal meet-up. If something was wrong, they would have told me.”

Dawn hesitated. “And did they tell you anything?”

“Mostly they gave me advice on a few problem students,” Starlight admitted. “It can be nice getting a second opinion. Speaking of a second opinion, my second opinion about all this is that you shouldn’t be worried about your dream. Luna was probably just curious about what happened that night, but it’s ancient history and you’ve got something more important to look forward to.”

“Something more important?”

“The trip to the Crystal Empire next week,” Starlight said. “Remember you’ll need to write a report on the history and culture of the Empire after your trip. Do you have a subject picked out yet?”

Luster hesitated just long enough for it to be a negative.

“I didn’t think so.” Starlight moved some papers on her desk to the side and gave Luster a scroll. “Take this. It’s the itinerary for the visit. Maybe you’ll get some ideas before we leave and you can start planning things.” She smiled. “Just promise me you won’t go trying to investigate Princess Cadance’s private quarters.”

“So I thought to myself, what would Princess Twilight do?” Luster Dawn huffed, rhetorically. “She wouldn’t sit around doing research when the world might be in danger!”

“...Isn’t that actually exactly what she would do?” Phantasma asked. “She’s famous for solving problems by finding the solution to problems in obscure texts.”

“Okay yes, she’d probably be in the library,” Dawn admitted.

“I like the woods better,” Larrikin assured Dawn.

“‘Course you like the drippin’ woods,” Arteria said. “Better’n the shockin’ wide open but not by more’n two bounces of a mare’s squeak. I’m gonna get ears on up ahead an’ make sure we aren’t trottin’ into a mimic’s treasure hole.”

She flew off ahead, leaving everyone trying not to think too hard about what she’d said. Almost everyone, anyway.

“That’s a new one,” Ibis said, making a note in a scroll. “Berlioz, can you translate?”

“Why is Berlioz asked to translate?” the dog asked. “Berlioz is not mind reader.”

“I suppose it was too much to hope,” Ibis sighed. “You two just seem to get along so well, I assumed you had some kind of special understanding.”

“...Get along so well?” Berlioz asked.

“Oy! Doggo! Help me move this chuck a’ timber!” Arteria shouted. “Somepony left it in the shockin’ road!”

Berlioz sighed. Luster just barely managed to hold back most of a giggle. The group followed along behind him.

“Look at this bleedin’ thing,” Arteria said, kicking the barrier she’d found. “Ain’t no problem for me, but it’s a shockin’ hazard t’ have in the middle of th’ trail when there might be any sort of stroppy thing lopin’ out of the woods to get a taste of what it hears.”

The barrier in question was striped red and white, designed to be seen from a long way off in all lighting conditions. It was essentially an extra-long cart with a wall built across the bed, staked into place across the road.

“That’s a royal guard barricade,” Luster Dawn said, approaching it. “Weird. They must have installed it after that whole… cult thing.”

“Paperwork,” Berlioz pointed to some papers stapled to the wood.

“They’ll just basically say ‘no trespassing’,” Luster said. “Apparently it’s not legal unless there’s actually a notarized document telling you not to do something.”

“I guess we should go back and take a nap,” Larrikin sighed, trying to sound disappointed. “Or maybe food and then a nap.”

“If you’re tired you could have stayed at school,” Ibis said.

“And leave you hanging?” Larrikin shook their head. “Nah. If it wasn’t for you guys I wouldn’t even have a reason to get out of bed. I just know Luster is going to get into trouble.”

“Thanks for the show of support,” Dawn sighed.

“But that’s why I like you,” Larrikin said, nuzzling her and leaving a damp patch from her slimy surface. Calling it fur wasn’t entirely accurate, given she was mostly made out of weeds.

“We can’t go any further, though,” Phantasma reminded them, motioning at the barricade.

“That sounds like somethin’ a quitter would say!” Arteria laughed. “You think a bit of painted wood is gonna keep us from goin’ up there? Long as nopony notices us, ain’t really a shockin’ crime is it?”

She hopped up on top of the barricade and looked down at the rest of the group though her cool shades, drawing upon all her commanding presence.

“As somethin’ of a minor noble, I give you all permission t’ ignore this here bit of paper. Ain’t like we’re gonna get caught in th’ middle of nowhere anyhow. And if we are, we’ll just apologize an’ be on our way in two echoes of a landslide.”

“You should probably start with those apologies now, then,” said a voice from behind her.

Arteria squeaked in what might sound like undignified alarm but was in fact a combination of war cry and emergency echolocation and would be considered very cool and fierce if one was a fruit bat.

Two guards stepped out of the woods.

“Princess Twilight got the time right to almost the exact minute,” the armored griffin said, checking a pocketwatch before putting it away.

“She’s pretty amazing like that,” his pegasus superior officer agreed.

“Gallus! Captain Sentry!” Luster Dawn smiled. “It’s so great to see you! This is perfect!”

“Perfect?” Gallus asked.

“Yeah! I need to get up to the old ritual site,” Dawn explained. “It’s not far.”

“I know, it’s just up the hill,” Flash Sentry said. “But you’re not allowed in. I’m sorry.”

“Come on, Captain,” Dawn said. “You know me! I’ll vouch for all my friends. We’re not going to disturb anything or do anything dangerous, we just need to check a couple things out. You won’t even know we were there!”

“Normally, I’d be happy to let you in,” Flash said. “But I’ve got orders.”

“But--”

“Specific orders,” Flash continued. “Princess Twilight told us you’d probably be showing up and we needed to turn you away.”

“What?” Dawn sputtered. “But I’m her personal student! I… I outrank you!”

“No, you don’t,” Flash said, amused. “Look, like I said, I don’t have a personal problem with you going up there, but Princess Twilight thinks it might be dangerous for some reason. Before you ask, no, I don’t know why. She didn’t tell me, so I’m not even trying to keep a secret from you.”

“That can’t be right,” Dawn muttered. “Let me see your orders!”

“I thought you might want that,” Flash said. He nodded to Gallus, who produced several sheets of closely-typed forms.

Dawn looked at them, trying to read over the military legalese.

“May I?” Ibis asked. She’d been examining the paper stapled to the barricade, and offered a pay for the orders. Dawn passed them over. Ibis put on a pair of reading glasses and narrowed her eyes, flipping through the forms.

“Well?” Dawn asked, after a minute.

“Everything seems to be in order,” Ibis said. “They’re legal orders, signed by the right ponies, and given to the correct recipients.” She gave them back to Gallus.

“If you want, we’ll be happy to escort you out of the Everfree,” Gallus offered, shoving them back into his armor. “The last thing you need is to run into timber wolves.”

“What about a hydra?” Larrikin asked.

“A hydra would be bad too,” Gallus said, before the roar shook the air around them. His expression dropped. “It wasn’t a hypothetical question, was it?”

“It never is around ponies like this,” Flash Sentry said, as a hydra tore out of the woods, throwing trees aside like toothpicks. “Everyone get to cover!”

Gallus and Flash took off at the same time, wordlessly and instantly coordinated, weaving towards the hydra from opposite sides.

“We need to help them!” Luster yelled. “We can… uh… we can…” she hesitated.

“Maybe we should just stay out of the way,” Phantasma said. “We’re not fighters, and they’ll have an easier time fighting if they don’t have to protect us at the same--” she was cut off by a massive oak slamming into the spot she was standing.

“Phantasma!” Dawn screamed.

Black smoked trickled out of the branches and reformed into the lanky umbra pony, who looked annoyed instead of hurt. “Like I was saying, we should just stay out of the way.”

“I’ve fought bigger dire tadpoles in me bathtub!” Arteria declared. “If you want t’ stay back and coward it out, that’s mulch in your own bowl.”

“There are several classical methods of defeating a hydra,” Ibis noted. “I don’t suppose anyone brought several dozen meters of rope?”

“Rope, huh?” Larrikin asked. “I think I can do that.”

“Really?” Luster asked.

“Sure. Just be careful with me, okay? It’d probably hurt a lot if I snapped.” The kelpie took a deep breath for dramatic effect and collapsed into weeds, their body slithering like a pile of snakes and weaving itself together.

“Aw, that’s crackin’!” Arteria exclaimed. “Berlioz, you grab one end, I’ll nap th’ other! I think I catch the bounce on Ibis’ plan!”

“Someone needs to distract it,” Ibis said. “The guards are doing an excellent job, but it has quite a few heads and there are only two of them.”

“I’ve got just the thing,” Dawn said. Her horn lit up, and she threw blasts into the sky that exploded into sparks and dazzling light. “I learned this one from Professor Trixie herself!”

One of the hydra’s heads, not quite as impressed with the display, looked down at her and lunged like a cobra. Phantasma erupted into a smokescreen, blinding it. The Hydra got a mouth full of wood as it missed Dawn entirely and bit into the barricade, pulling back in pain and alarm, its tongue covered in splinters.

Arteria darted across its path, pulling one end of the vine rope Larrikin had become and ducking around a tree, getting leverage. Berlioz saw the Hydra taking a step towards the flashes of light and smoke and yanked hard. The line went taut and caught the hydra’s ankle. The huge beast stumbled and fell, crying out in mostly-blind alarm as it collapsed into the trees.

“Watch out,” Dawn warned. “I don’t think that did very much except annoy it.”

The hydra cried out in pain and turned onto its side, straining for a moment before simply giving up.

“...Or it could be done fighting?” Dawn asked, confused.

“The bigger they are, the harder they fall,” Arteria said. “I got that one right, yeah? I don’t know all the slang you topsiders use.”

“It shouldn’t have been that easy.”

Ibis flew up a bit, frowning. “It wasn’t that easy. We weren’t the first thing this Hydra came across today.”

“Huh?”

“Take a look,” Ibis offered, pointing.

They hadn’t been able to see it before, but from this angle it was obvious. Huge burns crisscrossed the Hydra’s body, the scales left blackened and peeling in their wake.

“It must have happened just today,” Fluttershy said, once she’d finished rubbing salve into the hydra’s back. The beast had calmed down quite a bit since she’d come out to talk to it. “With how quickly a hydra heals, it can’t have happened more than a few hours ago.”

“Now I feel bad about fighting it,” Dawn mumbled.

“You only gave it a few bumps and bruises,” Fluttershy assured her. “He was scared and hurt and not thinking clearly. A lot of animals around here know if they’re injured, they can find a pony and try to get help.”

“What even happened?” Dawn asked. “A dragon?”

Fluttershy frowned and looked up at the wounds. “No. There aren’t any dragons around here that are mean enough to go after a poor, defenseless hydra.”

Dawn considered saying something about the use of the phrase ‘defenseless’ as it related to a huge, deadly monster, but the monster was groaning and in obvious pain after whatever it had tussled with. Maybe it was harmless, relatively speaking, compared to something else.

“Besides, it said it was…” Fluttershy stopped herself, looking pensive.

“What did it say?”

Fluttershy smiled at Luster Dawn. “It’s nothing to worry about. You should all go back to school. I need to finish taking care of Mister Hydra, and there might be other animals that got hurt while he was running around.”

“Maybe we should stick around to help,” Dawn offered. “We can go back along its path--”

“It’s more dangerous for you to help,” Fluttershy said, very firmly. “If you approach them incorrectly they might get scared or upset. What have I told you in class?”

Dawn sighed. “That the most dangerous thing we can do is upset an animal after it’s already hurt, because it might hurt us or make its own injuries worse.”

“Exactly. I know you want to help, but right now the best way you can help is by going back to school so nopony is worried about you, okay?”

“Even Fluttershy just wanted to get rid of me…” Dawn muttered. “What’s going on around here?” She huffed and sat down in the middle of the trail, glaring back towards the ritual site.

“Maybe pony should just listen,” Berlioz suggested, with a shrug. “Maybe nothing going on. Maybe pony just wants things to be connected.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dawn frowned.

“He might be right,” Phantasma said. “We came out here because you saw it in a dream.”

“Wait,” Ibis said, holding up a paw. “This might be a good time to review what we know. Let’s begin with Luster Dawn’s dream.”

“Okay…” Dawn rubbed her chin. “It was a pretty normal dream at first, then Princess Luna showed up. That’s not normal at all.”

“No,” Ibis agreed. “What did she do, exactly?”

“She changed my dream. It had been a dream about finding books in a library, and I guess it was sort of a bad dream? But in that weird, frustrating way a dream can be instead of a real nightmare. When Luna appeared, she just dismissed everything and turned it into a copy of the ritual site without even asking me. She didn’t even talk to me about it until I became lucid, and then she just sort of told me she was doing research and left.”

“Not a copy of the ritual site,” Ibis corrected. “Your memory of how it looked.”

“Right. And she specifically wanted to see it while the ritual was going on, not how it looks now.”

“But what’s the difference?” Phantasma asked.

“About five thousand bits o’ red velvet an’ gold leaf, if I remember correctly,” Arteria snorted. “Cults. Got cults back home an’ they’re all the same way -- totally knackered in the nog and with decor to match.”

“She didn’t care much about the banners and decorations,” Luster said.

“The ponies,” Berlioz suggested. “Maybe not all cult ponies have been caught.”

“I don’t think my memories would be much help with that. Most of them were wearing masks,” Dawn pointed out.

“But your memory is otherwise near-photographic, isn’t it?” Ibis asked.

Dawn nodded. “Princess Twilight taught me a few tricks. Luna seemed more interested in the runes on the monoliths than anything else.”

“Runes that, in the present, are largely damaged or defaced,” Ibis said.

“We broke them while we were saving the world,” Larrikin said, clearly deep in thought and trying to keep up. “I remember we went around scratching new runes into them to mess up what they were doing.”

“So she must have wanted to see what the original configuration was…” Phantasma muttered.

“That’s her likely motivation for appearing in the dream,” Ibis agreed. “But we can’t know why she needed to see the original rune configuration. What we can know is the next piece of information. Principal Starlight. Dawn, you went to speak with her, yes?”

“Yeah. She’d just gotten back from a meeting with Princess Twilight and Princess Luna, apparently. She said it was just a normal meeting but…”

“The timing is suspicious,” Ibis agreed. “And nopony else saw them. They didn’t meet at the school or every creature around would have been talking about it.”

“They could have met in Canterlot,” Phantasma offered. “We’d have to check the train schedule.”

“Starlight seemed tired,” Dawn said. “She could have teleported there and back.”

“The location of the meeting isn’t all that relevant,” Ibis cut in. “What’s important is the subject.”

“And pony princesses had meeting about dream?” Berlioz rumbled.

“Starlight told me she’d met them a few hours before I talked to her, and I went to Starlight right after I woke up because I was worried. They couldn’t have had a meeting after I had my dream.”

“So they had a meeting before it,” Phantasma said.

Arteria nodded. “A meetin’ where whatever they gabbed about, it meant Princess Luna had t’ go an’ rummage around in your junk drawer.”

“And order guards to block the road,” Dawn added. “They had orders specifically about me. Princess Twilight must have known I’d want to go look at the ritual site after Luna appeared in my dreams, and sent them to make sure I couldn’t!”

“Indeed, their orders were still fresh,” Ibis agreed. “And what are the chances you’d run into two Royal Guards who know you personally, or that a Guard Captain like Flash Sentry would decide to take on a low-level duty like watching a barricade in the middle of the Everfree?”

“They wouldn’t keep a pony with high rank standing there for long,” Dawn agreed.

“Their orders were stamped with today’s date,” Ibis said. “I saw it while I was going over their paperwork.”

“Fluttershy said the hydra only got hurt a few hours ago too, didn’t she?” Larrikin asked. “Is that related too?”

“Perhaps, but likely not in the way it appears,” Ibis said. “We can establish a rough timeline of events, now. The Princesses and Principal had a meeting. Soon afterwards, Princess Twilight ordered guards to block the main path to the ritual site. She did this before Princess Luna entered Luster Dawn’s dream.”

“She knew Luna appearing would make me too curious to resist wanting a look,” Dawn agreed.

“Everything was done quietly and in secret,” Ibis continued. “Then, something happened to the hydra. The guards weren’t ready for it, which means the Princesses didn’t know the hydra would be there.”

“And even if Spike was with them, Fluttershy said it the hydra’s burns weren’t from dragonfire,” Dawn said.

“It’s unlikely to be unconnected,” Ibis said. “In fact, since the Princesses were investigating something, it’s likely whatever attacked the hydra is exactly what they were trying to find. It may or may not be related to the ritual -- Luna did want to see it intact, and needed your memories to do it, but it’s equally likely they’re simply eliminating possibilities.”

“Why wouldn’t they want my help?” Dawn asked. “I’m Princess Twilight’s personal student. Even if they don’t want me involved, something dangerous enough to do that to a big monster is dangerous enough that ponies should be warned about it.”

“They might be trying to avoid a panic,” Phantasma said. “Ponies… sometimes don’t handle things well.”

“But keeping it from me?” Dawn asked. “I don’t panic.”

“Pony digs,” Berlioz said. “Pony doesn’t let things go. Almost as bad when danger is around.”

“So she’s trying to keep me safe?” Dawn frowned. “Starlight was saying she got advice on dealing with problem students. Maybe she meant me.”

“Our next step should be filling in at least one of the obvious blanks,” Ibis said. “We can’t get to the ritual site. No doubt every approach is guarded, and the guards are professional and new enough to their station to be on alert.”

“Starlight had a lot of paperwork on her desk,” Dawn recalled. “I didn’t think much about it at the time, but I bet there’s a clue there somewhere…”

“Good thing you’re a problem student already or else it’d be weird you want to break into her office,” Larrikin said.

“Pony should get plan that doesn’t make pony get kicked out of school.”

“You’re right. Maybe I shouldn’t even be the one to come up with a plan,” Dawn said. “Twilight had those guards just for me. She might be able to predict anything I’d normally do. If someone else came up with the plan, she might not be able to--”

“Shhh!” Arteria hissed, her ears perking up. She was staring into the woods.

“What is it?” Dawn whispered.

“I just got ears on somethin,” Arteria whispered back. “Look that way real careful-like. She’s hidin’, an I can’t get a clear see or hear at her with the way she is.”

Dawn followed Arteria’s gaze. Off to the side of the trail, deep enough into the woods to just barely be visible, was a black shape, a few shades too dark to blend into the grey and green of the shadows.

“It’s a pony,” Phantasma said quietly. “I can’t see their face. They’re wearing some kind of black cloak.”

“That’s no Royal Guard,” Dawn muttered.

“Your book princess got any secret police?” Arteria asked.

“If she does, they’re too secret for me to know about them.”

“Pony want to go with usual plan?” Berlioz asked. “Run at them screaming and hope things work?”

“I only see one of them,” Phantasma said. “Do you think it’s one of the cultists that got away?”

“As much as I’d love to see Azure Fire try to rough it in the woods, there’s no way any of those nobles could survive in the Everfree alone for that long,” Dawn whispered.

“She’s bolting!” Ibis warned. The black-cloaked pony turned and ran.

“Circle around!” Luster shouted, before going straight ahead, crashing through the brush. Chasing after anything in the Everfree was a bad idea, but bad ideas never stopped Luster Dawn.

The pony ahead of her half-turned, and there was a flare of crimson light. A bolt of red-hot energy flashed past dawn, the near-miss enough to make her fur crinkle and brown like she’d gotten too close to a furnace.

A second blast came at her, that same kind of half-formed spark as the first, but when Dawn tried to block it with a shield, the force behind it simply shattered her defense like it wasn’t there. If it had been aimed squarely at her…

“At least that explains what happened to the hydra,” Dawn said, ducking behind a tree while she tried to cast another shield spell. She couldn’t take a blast like that head-on, but the right spell would deflect it to the side.

A third shot bounced off to the side, the force redirected slightly away like a stone skipping off a lake.

“Right! I’ve got you now!” Dawn yelled, charging ahead and bouncing a fourth away. Despite the sheer power backing up the blasts, she had the distinct sense the pony throwing spells at her was trying hard not to hurt her. They weren’t poorly-aimed, they were warning shots just meant to slow her down and scare her away.

The pony skidded to a halt. Dawn felt the power behind the spell and her instincts grabbed hold of her. She threw herself to the ground, and a massive explosion of light and sound erupted from the cloaked pony. Smoke and debris filled the air like a solid wall.

Dawn coughed, picking herself up and looking around, her ears ringing.

The other pony was gone.

She stepped into the center of the devastation. Broken branches and scorched earth, but no real damage. It hadn’t been an attack meant to kill. Just all light and sound, like the fireworks she’d thrown at the hydra but a thousand times stronger.

“Where did she go? A teleport spell?” Dawn muttered.

Something moved in Dawn’s peripheral vision. She glanced up.

A white feather as long as her fetlock drifted down from above.

Chapter 2 - The Crown of Shardless

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Berlioz looked at the office door and searched his memory. He must have done something wrong, and he wanted to prepare himself for it before he knocked. He would have felt more secure if he knew what it was all about, but Professor Sunburst had been very light on details when he came to get him out of class. Instead of actually giving an answer about what was going on, the pony had just laughed nervously.

It wasn’t a good sign. Now Berlioz was starting to worry that rather than being in trouble, he was going to find unpleasant news waiting for him.

He knocked. It was best to just get it over with.

“Come in!” Starlight opened the door for him, ushering him inside. She looked apologetic. “I’m sorry for pulling you out of class. We just needed help with something and you were the first person to come to mind.”

“We?” Berlioz rumbled, looking past Starlight to the pony sharing the office with her. She was a greying pegasus mare wearing a pith helmet that he'd never seen at the school before. He guessed she was either one of Starlight's friends or a new substitute that mostly taught during the day.

“Can you read classical Doggrel?” the pegasus asked abruptly.

“Some,” Berlioz said. “Doggrel does not translate well to pony language. Many words lose…” he struggled for a moment. “Feeling. Poetry. Depth.”

“That’s fine,” the pegasus said. “I just need a rough translation. When I asked around my usual haunts it turned out nopony had written a dictionary, so I can’t do it myself. Heard from an old friend there was a Diamond Dog student here, thought I’d give it a shot.”

“Mm.” Berlioz nodded. “You have rubbings?”

“Better,” the pegasus said. “I have the original.”

She started digging in her saddlebag, and Berlioz frowned. Doggrel was always carved into stone. “Slab is small enough for pony to carry? Is pony sure runes are in Doggrel? Doggrel is carved. Type of stone used is almost as important as words.”

“What does it mean if it’s not stone?” the pegasus asked, dropping a heavy square of wrinkled, ancient fabric on Starlight’s desk.

Berlioz raised an eyebrow and stepped closer to look, squatting down to the low level of the desk to see. It was an off-white square a little too small to be used as a foal’s blanket, with blocky designs and runes woven around the edge in darker, charcoal-colored fibers. Berlioz sniffed, and he could smell the rot on it. It was something that had been undisturbed for centuries, but the smell wasn’t from the fabric but just the air around it, lingering on it like the dirt and dust staining its creases.

He touched it gingerly, pinching the edge between two thick fingers and feeling the coarse weave.

“Asbestos,” he rumbled. “Rock fiber.”

“That’s what the trader who sold it to me said,” the pegasus agreed. “He couldn’t tell me anything about what was written, though.”

“Mm.” Berlioz gingerly turned the fabric, running a finger along the line of runes. “It is a burial cloth. Very old. Cloth was for king’s tomb. Runes are… not a story. Berlioz does not know words. The theme of a story. The emotion behind it. They say king was great, was loved, did great things, but do not say what he did exactly.”

“Does it have a name?” the pegasus asked, leaning closer, like she could pick out a name from the unfamiliar symbols.

“Name should be…” Berlioz skipped ahead. He froze when he read what was written there.

“What does it say?”

“Cloth is burial shroud of King Shardless. But that is impossible. No dog knows where tomb is.” He let go like the cloth might burn him. “Cloth would have to be… ages old. From the time before things became as they are.”

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” the pegasus said. “I’ll take him.” She nodded to Berlioz.

“Take Berlioz where? Where did pony find cloth?”

“I bought it from some traders down south, but I wanted to see if it was authentic before I made an offer on anything else,” the pegasus said. “I’ll need your help with that.”

“Woah, woah, you can’t just take him out of school!” Starlight said. “His class is going to the Crystal Empire. Education is important, as you should know, Doctor.”

The pegasus huffed. “This is sort of time-sensitive. I can’t wait around on this. I need to verify which pieces are real and which aren’t, and I need someone who can read Doggrel for that. Just, uh, consider it an alternate field trip.”

“Mm.” Berlioz stood up. “There is a legend dogs tell. King Shardless was first king of Diamond Dogs. Only one to ever unify all the tribes. King was centuries old when he died, buried in secret place outside of all tribes territory. Legend says someday, new king will come, wearing crown of King Shardless, and reunite all the tribes again.”

“Exactly!” the pegasus said. “This guy’s perfect! I’m glad I don’t have to explain the legend, because there’s something even more interesting than the writing…”

She picked up the cloth and started folding it along the wrinkles and creases. It was ancient, stiff, and had been as tough as burlap even when it had been brand new. The record left by the old folds showed how it had been lying for countless years, and as she carefully worked to avoid damaging the asbestos, a shape slowly took form.

Like an orange peel carefully reassembled to show the shape it had once been, the cloth, refolded the way it had laid for ages, was a ghost of what it had been used to wrap. The pegasus carefully set it down, and the stone fiber held its shape, an empty mold in the shape of a pointed, ornate crown.

Berlioz swallowed, his throat dry.

“If I’m right, I’m only one step from finding the crown,” the mare whispered.

Starlight sighed. “Fine. Look, Berlioz, if you want to go with her, you can. I’ll allow it as long as you write a report on what you learned when you get back. And I expect actual archaeology, not some tall tale about traps and monsters and magical artifacts.”

“You’d be surprised how often that kind of stuff crops up in archaeology,” the pegasus countered.

“If you’re taking one of my students along, it had better not,” Starlight said.

“Berlioz will go,” he said, still staring at where the crown wasn’t. He shook his head, forcing himself to look away. “This is dog business. Other dogs won’t listen to ponies, so Berlioz will go.”

“Great!” The pegasus patted him on the back, or at least tried, but he was a lot taller than her so it was a lot more like slapping his butt. “Don’t worry, kid. I’ve done this a hundred times.”

“Mm. Pony is doctor?”

“Yeah. I mean… you know who I am, right?”

Berlioz shook his head. She deflated a little.

“Figures,” she muttered. “Book sales just haven’t been the same since that stupid one about aliens. Kids these days just want to read about vamponies falling in love and swooning on couches…”

Starlight cleared her throat. “Berlioz, let me introduce Doctor Daring Do. She’s one of the most famous archaeologists in Equestria.”

“Your Principal grew up reading books about my adventures,” Daring Do boasted.

“Well… I was really more into romance stories,” Starlight said sheepishly. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "With vamponies."

“Everypony’s a critic. Just get ready to leave by tomorrow. We’ll meet at the train station.”

Berlioz wasn’t sure what to pack, and had ended up with a single shoulderbag with a few useful things. He’d assumed packing light was the right way to go and that Daring would provide whatever they needed beyond his expertise, but he found himself with extra baggage even before getting on the train.

“Deadset yer lucky I convinced th’ Principal to let me come along,” Arteria said. “Can’t believe you’d try and waggle off on yer own outside of earshot of anypony that could help!”

“Berlioz is just going on trip. Dog business. Pony does not need to go.” He’d said it a few times already, but Arteria was a master of not listening to what he said, despite her amazing hearing.

“Aw, everyone else is just going t’ the Empire. They defo don’t need listenin’ after. Can’t hardly get into any kind of mischief there unless they bring it along with. But you’re goin’ off into the great unheard with no drippin’ idea of what you’re gonna find! Ain’t right to make a stallion of any species go bushwise on their own without a mare keepin’ an eye on them. Won’t do for me honor to let you.”

Berlioz groaned.

“Who’s this?” Daring Do asked from the other side of the platform. “Marefriend seeing you off before your big trip?”

Arteria bristled like a porcupine who’d taken some deep personal offense and turned to glare through her sunglasses at the pegasus, but when she got a good look at the other pony she froze in total shock.

“Oath! Berlioz, you didn’t tell me you were going with her!”

“One of my loyal fans?” Daring asked, perking up a little while she walked over. “If you want, I’ve got time for a quick autograph or two.”

“Do you know who this is, Berlioz?” Arteria asked, excited. She raced over to look at Daring Do from every angle like she might vanish at any moment. “This is Daring Bloody Do!”

“Guilty as charged,” Daring said, smiling.

“The greatest thief of all time!”

“That’s-- what? I’m not a thief!”

“Oh ho, so says miss ‘Guilty As Charged’!” Arteria grinned, elbowing Daring in the side. “No wuckas, mate. Got plenty of sus blokes in me own family line. Goes with the territory, eh?”

“I am not a thief. I’m an archaeologist.”

Arteria snorted. “Sure, sure, fair dinkum. You go around t’ all sorts of places an’ just happen t’ make off with huge hauls of gold and gems. I’ve read the bloody books about you, they’re great fun! If y’ see th’ author sometime, tell ‘er I said she’s hangin’ stupendous. ‘Cept for the one with humans. That one was rubbish.”

“See, see, that’s what I told the publisher!” Daring said. “They pushed for it because there was that Twilight series spinoff with humans. Kissing Through The Looking Glass. I said it was too far-out and ponies just wouldn’t get it.”

“Well, it’s just a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? I get it’s mostly tall tales, but ain’t nothing wrong with that. Everypony does that sometimes. Fight a cave crab and tell it down like you were grapplin’ with some awful blinkin’ cave demon, right? Makes the story better!”

“I try not to exaggerate too much, but…” Daring shrugged. “I admit I think of better lines later. It’s hard to be witty on the spot.” She grabbed Arteria by the wing and held her in place, narrowing her eyes. “But I’m not a thief. I retrieve artifacts from rotting, forgotten corners of the world and bring them back to civilization so ponies can learn from them. If I was a thief I’d get paid a lot more.”

Arteria yelped at the grip on her wing. “Oy! Let go!”

“Please let pony go,” Berlioz sighed.

Daring let go after a few extra moments. “So who is this mare?”

“Duchess Arteria Carpals,” Arteria said, tilting her head up. “I happen t’ be a pretty important mare meself, you know.”

“Oh, well, I didn’t mean to offend,” Daring said, with the air of a pony who cared exactly as far as was required by law. “Nice to meet you, sorry to see you go, we’ll have to catch up sometime.”

“You ain’t goin’ anywhere without me,” Arteria said. “Especially now that I ken this here naive little pup would be left all alone in the wayback with a devious mare like you. Can’t have that without me there t’ keep him out of trouble.”

Daring sighed. “So you want to come along too, huh?”

“He ain’t going without me.”

“Pony--” Berlioz started. Arteria held up a wing, and he shut up. The two mares were almost nose to nose, staring at each other. Daring didn’t look terribly impressed, probably because she’d spent decades being glared at by ponies who were smart enough to do it without sunglasses in the way.

Arteria, though, had a stubbornness that only came with youth, something Daring was severely lacking in. The older mare sighed.

“Fine,” she conceded. “You can come. But you buy your own train ticket.”

“...is Pony okay?” Berlioz asked, looking up.

Arteria was perched on the ceiling, holding tight and looking unhappy.

“Bloody train is makin’ me shockin’ deaf an’ I can’t get me hooves to sit still. Everything feels like it's all twisty turvy. Ain’t anything okay about this blinkin’ mess.”

“Get used to it,” Daring said. “It’s a long ride. And sleep if you can. When we’re on the job there’s a good chance we won’t be getting much rest. Things always end up going sideways somehow.”

“Berlioz does not like the sound of that.”

“Sideways ain’t the right direction fer topside or anywhere properly roofed,” Arteria pointed out.

“Well, now that we’re out of town and away from your Principal, I guess I should start letting you in on the plan,” Daring said. “We’re after the final resting place of King Shardless.”

Arteria dropped down from the ceiling. “An’ then we’re gonna loot it, right? I swear on me tufts I won’t take nothin’ too important for meself, just a few little knicknacks.”

“We’re not going to loot it!” Daring groaned. “I’ll be happy just to locate it. The first place we’re heading is a trading hub, basically the crossroads of the south. We’ll meet up with the traders there - they promised to wait for me to get back, but we’re already pushing it on the timing, so we have to hustle. I’m guessing they found something in the Badlands, but we’re going to need better directions than my intuition can provide.”

“Why Badlands?” Berlioz asked.

“Until the whole changeling thing, you couldn’t poke around in the Badlands without disappearing. No proper archaeology has been done there, ever. If I was going to take a random guess where a pony might find a lost tomb? It’d be right in the middle of that big blank space on the map.”

“At least it’s a Diamond Dog tomb,” Arteria said. “Say one thing that resonates proper with the dogs, they know to carve things outta somethin’ already there and proper protected, not like ponies buildin’ muckin’ huge flimsy rooms in th’ middle of the big empty.”

“Probably underground,” Daring agreed. “But I know my way around a cave. However those traders found it, we just need to follow their hoofsteps and we’re golden.”

“Golden, eh? Just like all the loot! Am I right, Berlioz?”

“Tomb is important for Diamond Dogs,” Berlioz said. “Needs to be treated with respect.”

“No worries, I’m th’ most respectful bat this side of any side there is!”

Berlioz doubted this severely.

“Anyway, get some sleep,” Daring ordered. “Or whatever. I won’t judge. I was young once.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arteria asked.

“Nothing. Just try to be quiet about it.”

Arteria huffed and stormed off all the way to the other side of the train car.

Berlioz looked at Daring Do. Daring shrugged and sat back, tugging her hat over her eyes.

“Stop growling,” Daring whispered.

“Not growling,” Berlioz mumbled back. “Bad smell. Trying not to breathe.”

The end of the line ended up being Kludgetown, and from the smell of it, Berlioz was sure it was built entirely out of open sewers and dead fish. The reek of coal smoke and garbage was almost enough to disguise it.

“Sorta reminds me of home,” Arteria said. “Cept for the filth everywhere. Oy! Don’t give me that look, fish-boy, I weren’t yappin’ about you! I meant th’ garbo everywhere, but th’ more I look th’ more I think maybe yer gob belongs--”

“Don’t start a fight,” Berlioz sighed. He picked up Arteria by the back of the neck like a kitten and pulled her away from the fish-person she’d been yelling at.

“You know come to think of it,” Daring Do said. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten out of this town without ending up in a fight at some point. I’ve been kicked out of every bar in Kludgetown at least once.”

Berlioz put Arteria down once she stopped looking like she’d pounce on anyone looking at her funny.

“Mm. Prefer not to fight.” Berlioz patted Arteria on the head. “Bat pony here to keep me out of trouble. Do not want to disappoint her.”

Arteria scoffed. “Got a point. Can’t keep a lug like this rockhead outta th’ drink if I don’t keep on my lace and garters and act like th’ fine shockin’ lady I am. Gotta be th’ voice of reason, as usual.”

“Indeed,” Berlioz said, with infinite patience.

“So where’s th’ shockin’ traders you’re here to crack on about?” Arteria asked. “When I said this place reminds me of home I didn’t mean it in any good way. Less like th’ low district an’ more like th’ kind of place foals get sold off to aboleths.”

Daring Do looked back at her. “When this turns into a book, I am not even going to try writing the way you talk.”

“Ain’t my fault you topsiders don’t understand regular lingo. Right, Berl?”

Berlioz considered his options, remembered that while Daring Do was objectively right, he had to live with Arteria, and simply nodded.

“Yeah, I’m just old and out of the loop,” Daring agreed. “Anyway, this should be the place.” She stopped in front of a building with no sign and a ragged curtain instead of a door in the somewhat-uneven doorframe.

Daring started pulling the curtain back, then stopped and looked at Arteria and Berlioz.

“Don’t say or do anything unless I tell you to do it,” she said. “Touch nothing and stay close to me.”

Berlioz nodded.

Arteria smirked and put a hoof to her chest. “Don’t worry, I’m the very picture o’ courtly behavior.”

Berlioz swallowed. For some reason he was more nervous now. Daring Do stepped inside, and Arteria stepped up, coughing lightly until Berlioz held the door for her, such as it was, and lifted the curtain to let her pass.

Inside, a cloud of smoke from burning cloves and incense knocked the awful smell of the city out of the air. Berlioz sneezed at the strength of it, but even as eye-watering as the spice was it was a welcome change. The space was cluttered, halfway between walking into someone’s very lived-in space and a pawn shop.

“Welcome, welcome!” A tall pony wrapped in silk stepped out of the back. “My old friend, Miss Daring Do! It has been too long!”

“It’s been two weeks,” Daring countered, stepping up to hug him.

“Ah, but the dates on the calendar are sweeter when they are shared with friends,” the tall pony said. “And do I have the pleasure of hosting more of your friends?”

“Something like that. Kids, this is Samba. I’ve been doing business with him for years.”

“Kids? Yours, perhaps?” Samba asked.

“I’ve told you before, I don’t have kids and don’t want them,” Daring said. “Berlioz is a translator. The thestral is…” she hesitated. “Anyway, I brought a translator this time, so don’t think you can pass off forgeries.”

“Daring, I was just as shocked as you to find some of what I sold you was forged,” Samba said. “I assure you, what I have is genuine. Or so I am told.”

“Or so you’re told,” Daring repeated. “You told me you dug this up yourself!”

“It was a metaphor!” Samba said. “If it proves genuine, I can put you in touch with the source.”

“You were supposed to be the source,” Daring huffed. “I don’t like being led around by the nose, Samba.”

“And I have kindly held onto these items despite several very tempting offers, because we are old friends. And are old friends not granted some small amount of trust?”

Daring scoffed. “Just bring them out so I can see what I might be buying.”

Samba bowed and motioned for Daring to follow him. Berlioz started following her, paused to accidentally bump Arteria to keep her from touching a squat silver idol of a monkey, and tried to look apologetic when she told him to be more careful.

The back room was a stark contrast to the front. A white cloth was draped over a wide table, and a half-dozen artifacts were laid out carefully on it.

“Okay, kid, do your thing,” Daring Do said.

Berlioz nodded. He squatted down to look at the first thing, a chipped amphora, and shook his head.

“Not dog artifact. Pony. Handles wrong.”

Daring nodded. “Yeah. You can find those anywhere. The old Romaine Empire used them for storing olive oil. Which Samba should have known.”

“Call it a small test of your expert’s credentials,” Samba said.

Daring rolled her eyes. “Next?”

“Bone flute is from dogs, but not old enough,” Berlioz said. “Rest is trash, except this.” He pointed to a smoothed stone, lightly etched with faded lines.

“What is it?” Arteria asked, putting her forehooves on the table and leaning closer to the rock.

“Type of map. But…” Berlioz frowned. “Strange. This is water.” He pointed to a patch cut into crosshatches. “Lines show passages, but no rune for depth, and passages do not show branches. These parts, also strange. Berlioz does not know this symbol.” He pointed to a distinctive shape, like a triangle pointing up with the tip broken in a crooked lightning-bolt shape.

Daring gasped. “That’s because it’s not a symbol! You said the tomb was outside the territory of all the tribes, right?”

Berlioz nodded.

“Diamond Dogs all live underground. The reason there aren’t any depth markers is because this is a map of the surface, and that--” she tapped the triangle. “--Is a mountain! They tried to draw the shape of the peaks!”

“Mm. And map has shoreline.”

Daring Do nodded. “Which means we can figure out where to start just by looking at maps. We might not know much about the Badlands, but we’ve got good maps of the coastline. Not bad, Samba. I’ll take the lot.”

Daring Do started rummaging around in her saddlebag.

“Ah, I’m afraid there is a small problem,” Samba sighed. “You see, somepony else has already made an offer.”

“Better than mine?” Daring asked.

“Double your offer.”

“Tell you what, let me get a rubbing or two and I’ll give you--”

“The offer was not on the artifacts,” Samba said. “It was, in fact, for you, and whatever expert you brought with you.”

“Oy! You double-crossed us!” Arteria said, jumping up on the table.

“I double-crossed her,” Samba said. “I have no idea who you are.”

“Technically, it wasn’t a double-cross. It was blackmail,” said a voice behind Berlioz. He turned slowly to look. A young brown pony with a stark white mane stood there holding a crossbow with the casual ease of somepony who was very comfortable threatening other ponies with it. “I told him I’d burn down his shop with him in it if he didn’t cooperate.”

“Sorry, Daring,” Samba said.

“It’s okay, Samba,” Daring sighed. “I should have expected something like this.”

“Yes you should have, Mother,” the pony spat.

“I’m not your mom, kid,” Daring said. “I don’t know what your father’s been telling you, but we’ve never been all that close, trust me.” She glanced at Berlioz and Arteria. “Let me introduce Codigo. He’s Caballeron’s son and for some stupid reason he thinks I had something to do with that.”

“Go ahead and deny it, but I know the truth!” Codigo shouted. He took a deep breath and smoothed back his mane. “You will be coming with us, Daring Do.”

“Says you and what bloody army?” Arteria snorted.

“Okay, it ain’t me shockin’ fault that he had a whole shockin’ army in th’ next room,” Arteria said. “It were one of them reformical questions.”

“Rhetorical,” Daring corrected, as they were led up a rickety gangplank.

The airship at the other end had seen better days. Berlioz wasn’t an expert by any means, and couldn’t even guess at its age, but it was like a house that had been built cheaply and poorly decades ago and was only holding together thanks to constant maintenance and work. Either the owner had sunk so much money into it one replacement plank at a time that they couldn’t bear to see the bits wasted, or it had so much sentimental value the bits didn’t matter.

“I ain’t a fan of this,” Arteria hissed. “When do we kick flank an’ show these bludgers that we’re tough as a rock conker champion?”

“We need an airship to find the tomb anyway,” Daring said. She was calm, if unhappy. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Or do!” Codigo called back. “I don’t need the bat. If one of you steps out of line, she’ll be the first one to pay the price.”

“Oy, come over here and say that to me face--”

Berlioz covered Arteria’s mouth with a wide paw and shook his head.

“It’s an incentive for you to stay on your best behavior,” Codigo said.

“Why do you want King Shardless’ crown anyway?” Daring asked. “Let me guess -- you’ve got a buyer lined up already to turn a tidy profit.”

They stepped onto the slightly-uneven deck, and Codigo sighed.

“It is a mission of mercy,” Codigo said.

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” Daring snorted.

“Believe this,” Codigo said, motioning to some of his thugs. They ran belowdecks. “You see, while you might deny quite a bit about yourself and my father, you cannot deny you two knew each other quite well.”

Daring shrugged. “Unfortunately.”

The thugs returned, wheeling something between them.

“Also unfortunately, my father has not held up against the years as well as you have, Mother,” Codigo said.

Doctor Caballeron sat, half-slumped, in a wheelchair, a blanket covering his rear legs. He didn’t seem to even notice the ponies around him. Daring Do blinked in surprise.

“Years of adventure caught up to him,” Codigo said. “Perhaps it was all the curses he labored under from time to time, or the traps you tricked him into. Or simply age.”

“We all get old,” Daring Do said, her throat dry.

“But not all of us stay that way,” Codigo hissed. “The Crown can fix this! Legend says that whoever wears it will become as flawless and perfect as King Shardless! A life measured in centuries, eternal youth!”

“These things don’t usually work out the way you think,” Daring warned. “You can ask your dad about trying to mess with artifacts you don’t understand.”

“It will work!” Codigo shouted. “And he will have the last laugh!”

Daring shook her head, but knew better than to argue with an armed, unstable pony.

“We set sail immediately!” Codigo yelled. “All hands, cast off!”

“What’s the play ‘ere?” Arteria asked, getting close to Daring Do so she could whisper.

“We enjoy the free ride and wait for the right moment,” Daring muttered.

“Somethin’ wrong aside the shockin’ obvious?” Arteria asked. “Yer starin’ at that bloke in a wheely bin like you ain’t seen circles before.”

“No, just… we all get old,” Daring sighed.

“It’s so shockin’ boring!” Arteria groaned, wiggling all four hooves up in the air. “I’m a blinkin’ hostage an’ even that’s shockin’ dull!”

Berlioz sighed. “Want to go up on deck?”

They had the run of the ship, which Berlioz hadn’t expected. He’d assumed being a prisoner would mean being, well, imprisoned. He’d been ready to spend the trip in a cell, but instead, they had a small cabin and the only lock on the door was a warning from some of the crew to stay out of the way while they were working.

“Out into the middle of th’ big empty? I didn’t plan on tradin’ dead stone boredom fer ten kinds of nightmares, pup.” Arteria sighed. “You know I’ve read a bunch of them Daring Do books an’ they don’t include all this doin’ nothin’ for days on end.”

“Where is Daring pony?” Berlioz asked.

“Helping them try an’ find the right spot,” Arteria shrugged. “Fer somepony supposed to be their enemy it’s awful sus, ain’t it?”

“Hm?”

Arteria flipped over and stood up, pacing around the cabin. “Put some inside ears towards it, right? She didn’t act very shockin’ surprised to see that Codigo bloke, right? Weren’t angry none an’ didn’t even try to put up a scuffle.”

“Fighting… not always good idea, pony. Lots of them. Not lots of us.”

“Okay, yeah, we were pretty scarpin’ outnumbered but we coulda put up at least some kinda dance an’ not had them lead us away like cave woolies to the harvest. In th’ books Daring Do fights off dozens of thugs like them bleeders! An’ with me t’ back her up, shoulda been a done thing.”

“Maybe more complicated. Maybe pony afraid we would be hurt.”

“Mm. Maybe.” Arteria nodded. “Or maybe she was afraid somepony else would get their knees scraped.”

“Codigo?”

“He said he’s her son,” Arteria said. “Yeah, she says she isn’t, but…”

“Daring Do would be pony to know if she had foal or not.”

“Trust me, Berlioz. I’m in the nobility. Sometimes… things happen. Ain’t always so simple as having a foal. Sometimes it’s with th’ wrong stallion, or at th’ wrong time, or they can’t let nopony know. Mare goes on vacation for a bit more’n half a year, and comes back after losing some weight and alone if you get what I mean.”

“Very cruel, for ponies.”

“Ain’t usually all that bad. Usually some orphanage ends up with a basket on their doorstep an’ a large donation. Most ponies ain’t awful enough t’ toss ‘em into the wild as soon as they can walk an’ tell ‘em to go in a straight line and don’t come back.”

“Nobility sounds… difficult,” Berlioz mumbled.

“More than most ponies know,” Arteria said. She sat down, looking at her hooves. “When you’re the big bat it means you gotta make decisions for everypony. Prolly the same for the old mare that dragged us on this trip, huh? But…” she looked at the door, her ears twitching.

The door burst open, and Daring Do flew in, obviously excited. She grabbed her bag from where it was lying against the wall.

“We found the spot,” Daring said, barely even taking the time to glance at them.

“We finally bustin’ out of here?” Arteria asked, excited. “Been ready to pop a few of them in the snout for a stalag’s age!”

“We’re not escaping,” Daring said. She adjusted her hat.

“Why the shock not?! Don’t tell me -- you’ve got a soft spot in your skull for that crazy pony that says yer his mum!”

Daring turned on Arteria and stepped up to her, annoyed. “While you’ve been relaxing and trying to act cool, I’ve been working. Do you know where they found the cloth and stone map? In the middle of a battlefield, and they haven’t figured out yet that all the gold and gems around them might have been perfect for financing the trip but they also means no one walked away from that fight!”

“Is map… cursed?” Berlioz asked.

“Maybe. There’s more than one type of curse,” Daring said. “I’m thinking it’s the kind where you have to watch your back. Actually, you’re new at this. Watch each other’s backs.”

“What about you?”

“Eyes on the prize, kid.” Daring winked. “Now come on. We need to get moving before our hosts get stabby.”

Berlioz followed the ponies down the ramp, shielding his eyes from the sun as they stepped off the wood and onto the dust-covered stones of the valley floor. The sandstone was stained red like unfired clay, soft winds blowing motes and drifts of grit across something that had been a riverbed ages ago and hadn’t seen much water since.

“It’s beautiful!” Codigo yelled. “Get my father down here so he can see it!”

“Working on it, boss!” two of the thugs slowly worked the wheelchair down the ramp, careful not to let it slip. Berlioz glanced back at them, almost tempted to ask if they needed help, but thought better of it. Something about the crippled pony unsettled him, and he couldn’t put a pawpad on it.

“We got lucky,” Daring explained. “I was worried the paths on the stone showed trails overland, and after a couple thousand years they’d be totally gone, but the dogs were smarter than that. See, these tunnel markings, the ones with no depth? They’re actually the shape of valleys between the mesas. Trails will have vanished, but the landscape doesn’t change that quickly.”

“Mm. Makes sense,” Berlioz said, nodding. “Still paths through stone, even if above surface.”

“And at the end of that trail…” Daring said. “Is this.”

It was cut into the side of the mesa, carved by sorrowful hands lost in mourning. The scale of it was immense, every inch of the living rock sculpted into columns and statues.

“It’s invisible from above. They didn’t even touch the top of the mesa,” Daring explained. “It’s no wonder it was lost for so long. Even the changelings don’t hang around out here, and they’re the only creatures that have spent any real time in the Badlands in the last few centuries.”

“That’s a shockin’ wonderful history lesson, but any brainwaves to get a roof over us?” Arteria asked. She wiped her forehead, trying to pretend the sweat was from the heat. “Shoulda brought a bloody brolly with me just t’ keep from lookin’ at the empty.”

Daring nodded. “Come on, let’s get in the shade,” she said, escorting them to the deep arch of the doorframe, and once they stepped under its overhanging shadow Arteria visibly relaxed. Daring leaned closer to her. “Don’t handle the outside well, do you?”

“Ain’t no shockin custom of yours,” Arteria huffed.

“I knew a couple thestrals. They’re probably the reason you got my books. None of them liked the outdoors either. You’re actually handling it pretty well. You’re not having panic attacks and trying to hide under my hat.”

Arteria looked away. “Well… I ain’t some blushin’ vestal to outings. Gotta do what’s right when you’re the big bat and a pup like Berlioz gets dragged away on somethin’ like this.”

Berlioz examined the runes to give himself something to do besides listen to what Daring and Arteria were saying, and stumbled over something. Literally, something more solid under the dust catching his foot and almost sending him tumbling. He looked down and paled.

“Ponies,” he said. “Look.”

“What’s wrong?” Daring asked.

Berlioz knelt down and poked at the bundle he’d tripped over. “Old bones,” he said. He picked one up and it crumbled in his grasp. “Only here because rock protected them from wind.”

“That ain’t a good sign, is it?” Arteria asked.

“...We knew we weren’t the first ones to find this place,” Daring said. “Someone had to bring that cloth and map back.”

“Don’t look like everyone who came here left,” Arteria muttered.

Berlioz nodded slowly. “Bad feeling about this.”

“Enough chatting!” Codigo shouted, storming over to kick the bones aside. “I have no interest in those that failed. Get us inside!”

“Right, boss, I’ll get right to work on that,” Daring said, giving him a mock salute.

“If you don’t take me seriously--”

“Boss, there’s somethin’ wrong with your dad’s chair!” one of the thugs shouted. “It won’t roll!”

Codigo groaned. “I have to do everything myself… figure out how to open this door before I get back!”

He stomped off and started shouting in several languages at the thugs, only a few of which they understood well enough to be insulted by.

“So speakin’ as the one most likey to have her knees bashed in if he don’t get what he wants, got any ideas how to open a giant rock door?” Arteria asked.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” Daring said. “So we know creatures have been here before, after it was sealed up.” She looked up at it. The door was divided into panels, each of them showing scenes of death, mourning, and war. “But the door’s closed. What’s that mean?”

“They closed it behind them cause they weren’t raised in a tavern?” Arteria suggested.

Berloz snorted.

“It means the door closes by itself,” Daring explained. “That means it’s got some kind of mechanism. Probably something with water moving from one tank to another. Seen it a million times.”

“Conkers,” Arteria said. “So? I got a shockin’ mechanism in me wingwatch.”

“Since your principal told me to take this seriously as an archaeology trip, I should tell you it’s a wonderful example of how long something can last when built robustly and protected from the elements, but the more important thing is that there are also a bunch of bones around and the usual reason for a resetting mechanism is to get a trap ready for the next bunch of idiots to come around.”

“Mm. Us.” Berlioz rumbled.

“Exactly,” Daring agreed. “Got any insight on what kind of traps diamond dogs like?”

“Pits. Falling rocks. Snares.”

Daring looked down and scraped at the ground with a hoof. “I’m pretty sure I can get the door open the wrong way. You two step way back in case I’m right.”

Berlioz let Arteria lead him to a safe distance and watched. Daring looked back at the group of thugs working to get Caballeron’s wheelchair unstuck, waited a few moments, then shoved hard at the middle of the door. A hidden seam opened, revealing the panels two sides of a twin door. Daring took to the air like she knew what was going to happen next.

The ground rumbled and dust flew into the air as it collapsed down, taking two of Codigo’s minions with it. They fell into rushing water and vanished as the full size of the pit was revealed, the width of a buckball field and twice as long. The roaring water deafened the ponies around it, but Berlioz watched the group of thugs pointing and gesturing at the pit, obviously worried about their… friends was a stretch after what he’d seen on board, but co-workers fit as a term.

Codigo shook his head, then finally slapped one of them, yelling to be heard over the torrent. Berlioz only caught the last of it as the water slowed to a trickle.

“...split it ten ways instead of twelve! You should be thankful!” Codigo finished. He reached down and touched something on the wheelchair, and suddenly it could roll freely again. “I have to do everything myself!”

“Lucky that old pony did not go into pit,” Berlioz muttered. The wheelchair had been stuck less than a hoof-width from the edge.

“Yeah. Lucky.” Daring said, setting down.

“Daring Do, if I didn’t know better I would think you did that on purpose,” Codigo said, approaching with a sharp smile. “Of course, that would be absurd. You would never throw a pony into a deadly trap.”

“There’s a decent chance those ponies that got swept away are still alive. That probably empties out into the river we passed over.”

“A mile away in rushing water when I’m not sure they could even swim.”

“You almost sound concerned about them.”

“I’m not. And neither are you. Perhaps something I inherited?” Codigo smiled and shrugged. “Now, if you do that sort of thing again, there will be a price to pay.”

“If you’re that worried, maybe you should lead the way,” Daring said. “If you’re not afraid to look bad in front of your daddy.” She looked over at the approaching wheelchair.

“One of the first good ideas you’ve had today!” Codigo laughed, slapping Daring on the shoulder like they were old friends. He strutted inside, head held high. Daring waited a moment, then nodded for Berlioz and Arteria to follow her.

“Looks like some of em’ decided to stick around,” Arteria said. The area right inside the door was littered with skeletons.

“Doors swing in,” Berlioz explained. “Very tight fit. Close by themselves. Get trapped inside, nothing to pull on. Can’t get out.”

“The way they’re hinged, it’s like a dam,” Daring noted. “Pressure from this side shuts them tighter, and they’re thick stone. Help me jam them open.” She tossed a wooden wedge to Berlioz and he nodded, grabbing a loose stone to serve as a hammer. It only took a moment and a few quick swings to wedge one door into place. Daring did the same on the other side.

“Gonna have an earache until me next cakeday at this rate,” Arteria said, rubbing her sore ears. She hovered above the ground, trying to keep her distance from the skeletons that seemed to be everywhere.

“What’s wrong? Are you scared of a few dead dogs? We’re in a tomb!” Codigo laughed again. “That’s where the dead belong!” He pulled a flashlight from his pack and switched it on, light bursting into the tomb for the first time in endless years.
Inside, it was like a grand temple or throne room - in Equestria the two were more or less the same. Columns carved out of the stone supported a roof that was so high it had to almost be breaking through the top of the mesa. The geometry of the room, the paths and statues and carvings, all came to a single point, a throne on top of a high dias. It was even larger than Celestia’s throne, and when the beam of the flashlight swept over it, it glinted and shone, even through the dust of endless years of decay.

“Is that made of diamond?” Codigo whispered. “They said the King’s throne was made of a single giant diamond!”

“Well, could be quartz or some fancy glass,” Arteria said. Daring shushed her.

“And that means…” he focused the beam on the withered shape that sat in it, half-collapsed and near-skeletal. A crown sat upon its head, jagged and tough and perfectly clean and shining despite the state of everything else.

The figure moved and looked up.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Daring said.

The withered form barked something.

“That means ‘intruders’,” Berlioz translated.

“I could have figured that out on my own, but thanks,” Daring said.

The boney forms around them started shifting and lurching to life, or at least a mockery of life, endless exhaustion evident in every motion. A few pulled rusting blades from broken ribcages. Others wielded their own broken limbs like clubs. Many just reached for the intruders with empty claws. All of them stared with empty eyesockets, moaning silently.

“Oh stalags and star spiders,” Arteria swore.

“If you’ve read any of my books you really should have expected this,” Daring said.

“I thought it was th’ author spicing things up!” Arteria said. “Like how they cut out all th’ borin’ bits of sittin’ on a train or airship fer days!”

“I wish,” Daring said. She kicked one of the approaching skeletons, and it fell apart. “They’re not so tough! We can-- never mind.” The skeleton reassembled as she watched, lurching back to its bony feet.

“Berlioz, try yappin’ at them!” Arteria said. “Maybe they’ll listen if another dog gabs some at them!”

Berlioz hesitated and yelled for them to stop. They hesitated for a moment before the mummified horror on the throne raised a paw and pointed, barking out orders. The endless ranks of the dead lurched back into motion.

“Defend my father!” Codigo shouted, falling back.

“Standing here’s a bad idea,” Daring said. She glanced up. “For once, my wings are in decent shape. Let’s get out of here!”

“Tops!” Artiera agreed. “I got you, pup!” She grabbed Berlioz and strained, trying to gain altitude, her wings practically buzzing. “You need to drop some shockin weight, pup! When we get back yer goin’ on a blinkin’ diet!”

Daring grabbed Berlioz’ other arm and hefted, and working together they managed to get into the air just before the undead closed in on them.

“I’ve seen this kinda thing before!” Daring yelled. “We need to figure out what’s animating them! Otherwise they’ll just keep coming back!”

“Fair dinkum, my bits are on the bloody crowned bloke in the chair who looks shockin’ crossed about us lettin’ ourselves in!”

“Yeah, safe bet,” Daring admitted. “Makes me wish I still had that blessed solar symbol Tia gave me as a favor for not telling ponies when I dug up her old bedroom.”

“You did what?” Arteria asked, cackling.

“Turns out she had a goth phase. The marauding barbarian kind, not the ones who dress in black. Anyway, what we need to do is-- AH!” Daring gasped in pain, one of her wings going limp. What lift they had vanished, and the three fell, Arteria only barely managing to turn it into a controlled landing instead of a bone-breaking crash.

“What happened?” Berlioz asked.

“It’s my bucking trick wing,” Daring said through gritted teeth. “This always happens when I push myself too hard.” She tried to lift it and stumbled, almost passing out from the pain. “I’m not getting back into the air until a doctor sets it.”

“Oath, that just figures,” Arteria said.

“You need to take out the leader,” Daring said. “At least we landed near the throne.”

“Mm. Berlioz will do it.” He stood up. “Keep Daring pony safe.”

“On it,” Arteria said, pulling Daring behind a sarcophagus.

Berlioz turned and looked into the ancient king’s eyes. They were just pale flames set in empty eye sockets, burning stars of unnatural power. And in them he saw endless exhaustion. He saw a dog pushed beyond their limits, beyond life itself, by the weight of duty. Honor that couldn’t be satisfied, and rest that wouldn’t come until it was.

The king stood, tossing something underhand to Berlioz. Berlioz caught it on instinct, and realized he’d been thrown a sword. It was that kind of ancient iron that never seemed to rust but was almost as much stone as steel, like it had been fossilized. The edge was chipped and scarred from use but still gleamed with deadly purpose.

Berlioz hefted it in both paws and held the sword up defensively. The king nodded, lifting his own sword and saluting Berlioz. Berlioz glanced to the side. The skeletal ranks of the dead were staying away, keeping a wide ring around them clear.

“Mm. Fair fight?”

The king didn’t understand his words, but seemed to grasp the meaning from his tone. It nodded and took up a stance, motioning for Berlioz to take the first swing. Berlioz swiped the sword, testing the weight with the attack, and the king blocked it dismissively, sparks raising where the blades met.

The king barked in approval, and the fight began.

The king’s movements were slow, but he had so much strength that blocking the swings was like trying to stop a runaway train. Berlioz was forced back, his paws scraping through the dust covering the floor. The mummified dog was stronger, actually knew how to use a sword, and at any instant could call for its horde to turn on Berlioz.

Berlioz, though, was fast and had a reaction time that wasn’t measured in seconds.

He dodged a big swing from the king instead of blocking, and the king was thrown off balance. Before he could recover, Berlioz struck at his leg, slicing into the bone. It was too tough to cut through entirely, but the ancient femur cracked, and the king stumbled.

Berlioz jumped back, wincing as a wide swing caught his side, just barely cutting into him.

“Pup!” Arteria shouted.

Berlioz held out a paw for her to stay where she was. “Not deep,” he said. “Looks worse than it is.” He circled as the king got back up, favoring his undamaged leg. He seemed to be grinning now, despite his lipless fangs being fixed in a rictus. Something about the way he moved didn’t speak of rage, but joy.

Berlioz lunged forward, and the king parried his blade, edges sliding back along each other and opening a cut on Berlioz’ forearm. He winced in pain and backed off, watching the king move. The skeletal form stumbled, the damaged femur cracking more as it tried to follow him.

Instead of pressing the advantage, Berlioz stopped, taking up a stance. The king recovered, looked at him, and barked with laughter, taking up his own stance.

“What are you doing?!” Daring shouted. “You could have had him! Keep making him turn to put pressure on his leg!”

“King wanted fair fight,” Berlioz said. “Need to give respect.”

“Respect isn’t going to get us out of here alive!” Daring yelled.

“Honor is more important, sometimes,” Berlioz said. The king waited, not striking. Berlioz caught his gaze and had a moment of perfect clarity. The king wanted to rest, but he couldn’t do that on his own.

Berlioz rushed him, and the flames in the king’s eye sockets flickered, like he was closing his eyes. Instead of lowering his sword to guard himself, the king raised it further, leaving himself open. Berlioz smashed his sword into the king’s chest, staving in ribs. It would have been a fatal blow to a normal dog, but the king was just driven to one knee.

He tried to stand, and the cracked femur finally gave out, shattering.

Berlioz hefted the sword and panted, trying to catch his breath. The fallen king looked up at the young dog, nodded, and lowered his head. Berlioz brought the blade down on the mummy’s neck. He felt resistance for a moment, but once the cut started the king’s body collapsed, bones and dried flesh dissolving almost instantly into dust, as if the only thing holding him together on an atomic level had been willpower.

The crown rang out like a glass bell and rolled across the floor like a coin on edge until it stopped at Berlioz’s feet, falling over and gleaming up at him.

The skeletons that had frozen in place slowly collapsed, piece by piece, until they were just piles of inert bone again.

“Looks like it’s over,” Daring said, groaning and leaning on Arteria for support.

“Is pony okay?” Berlioz asked, dropping the sword.

“Pulled her wing right outta th’ socket,” Arteria said. “I could pop it back in right quick but some reason she don’t trust me to nurse her right.”

“Funny, that,” Daring mumbled.

“Wonderful work!” Codigo shouted, clapping slowly. “Now, if you please, the crown.” He held out a hoof. “While that skirmish did take a bite out of my minions, you’re still outnumbered more than two to one, and Mother is in no shape to fight. More importantly, now that we’ve found the artifact, I don’t need you alive, though I’m willing to be generous enough not to have you shot in the gut with crossbows and left to die if you give me the crown.”

“You can’t just turn it over,” Arteria whispered. “We gotta figure out a way through this!”

“This is the way through this,” Berlioz said. He picked up the crown and stared into the jagged, faceted surface. It was a single, flawless gem. Part of him didn’t want to give it up. That part wasn’t one he listened too, though. He walked over to Codigo and gave it to him.

“Good,” Codigo said. “I knew bringing you along was the intelligent move. You’ve proven useful, and kept your friends alive.”

“Mm. Be careful. Old zebra saying -- crown won through violence is not one that stays on brow.”

“We’ll see about that,” Codigo said. He looked at the crown, admiring his reflection. “It’s beautiful. I can almost feel the power in it! Imagine it, an artifact so powerful it kept that ancient king from dying for this long. Bringing back the dead, an entire army at his command. At my command…”

Codigo’s eyes glazed over as he thought about the possibilities.

“I thought that crown was for your dad, to try and fix him,” Daring said.

“There are other ways to heal a hurt pony,” Codigo said. “This, though… Imagine what I could do with it! I could carve out an empire! Instead of selling a few bits and pieces for profit, I could be a king by my own hoof! I deserve that, don’t I?”

He raised the crown above his head, grinning.

“I can rule where others have failed! I can--”

He crumpled. A greying hoof caught the crown before it hit the ground. Doctor Caballeron sighed, dropping the club he’d been holding.

“That’s more than enough of that,” Caballeron said. “I’ll be taking that crown for myself, thank you.”

“I knew you were faking it,” Daring said. “Your wheelchair stopping right at the edge of the pit? You spotted that trap the same way I did.”

“I couldn’t allow my son’s incompetent minions get me killed just to keep up the act,” Caballeron said. “I thought this would be a useful ploy, but in the end I have to do everything myself, as always.”

“Why’d you tell him I was his mother, anyway?” Daring asked. “We’ve never been that close.”

“It motivated him,” Caballeron said, shrugging. “He’s smart, but not quite smart enough. Otherwise he’d realize his mother was just some mare I seduced as part of a plan. I can’t remember if it was to get the Amulet of Lumios or the Black Octarine. I suppose it doesn’t matter. I don’t remember her name, and even you didn’t bother putting her in your books.”

“I tried to skip over the less savory parts where you used and abused ponies,” Daring countered. “The last thing they needed was to have their names dragged through the mud.”

“Very kind of you. Now, for my reward.” Caballeron held the crown high. “Behold, as the power of the Crown restores me to youth and gives me endless life!”

He put it on and shivered.

“I can feel it! I can feel…” He paused and frowned. “I can’t feel anything.”

“Crown is just a hat,” Berlioz said.

“Impossible!” Caballeron said. He adjusted it, as if the fit was the problem. “I should be filled with power! I should be young again! Strong again!”

“Crown is only powerful when worn by the right person. Power comes from duty, from other creatures willing to follow. Without followers, a ruler is nothing, and a crown is just a fancy hat,” Berlioz said.

“No, no…” Caballeron whispered. “There has to be some kind of secret! There has to be!” He pulled a knife out of a hidden sheath. “You’re going to tell me--”

“Sneak attack!” Arteria yelled, dropping down from above and kicking Caballeron full in the face. The older pony crumpled, knife skidding across the stone floor. “Gottem! Which one of you blighters is next?!” She grinned and looked at the thugs.

The thugs looked at their fallen bosses. One of them stepped forward.

“Look, we’re just hired muscle,” the thug said. “I don’t think either of them’s gonna pay up. At this point, I just wanna go home and not get eaten by monsters.”

“I think we can manage that,” Daring said. “Tell you what, if you give us a lift back to civilization, I can see if I can swing a little something for your troubles.”

The thugs looked at each other and nodded.

“Tie these two up and put them in the hold,” Daring said.

“You sure you wanna take them with us?” Arteria asked.

Daring sighed. “I might not like them, but I don’t leave ponies to die, no matter what Codigo thinks. I hope being betrayed by his dad knocks some sense into him and he turns things around. He did a pretty good job - if he’d found a translator on his own, he could have found this place himself.”

Arteria picked up the fallen crown, thinking.

“You know, the legend about this thing says when it’s found, it’ll be returned by a worthy dog to be a new king and reunite the tribes,” she said. She looked at Berlioz. “The old king seemed to think you were worth somethin’.”

She offered Berlioz the crown. He shook his head.

“Not worthy,” Berlioz said. “Crown is for dog who wants power. Wanting power got all these dogs killed, got ponies killed today. If crown comes back now, other dogs will argue about worth, will fight over it. More dead, because of a hat.”

“That kinda thinkin’ is why yer more worthy than most,” Arteria said.

Berlioz shrugged. “Dogs not ready for king. Maybe will be, someday, when dogs can solve problems with talking and friendship instead of violence. Then dog tribes can be united. Until then, crown would only bring war. Berlioz does not want to unite tribes with force. Crown needs to go somewhere safe.”

“We can’t leave it here,” Daring said. “We sort of got rid of what was protecting it. The next creatures that come across it are going to snatch it up.”

Berlioz nodded. “Can’t stay here. Do ponies have a place where crown can be hidden until worthy dog is found?”

Daring smiled. “I know just the place. There’s this huge warehouse where-- well, let’s just say we’ve got a spot we put things ponies aren’t ready for.”

“Good,” Berlioz said. “Dogs not ready either. Will be, someday.”

Arteria shrugged and gave Daring the crown. She pulled the shroud out of her saddlebags, carefully wrapping the crown up in it, just like it had been for endless ages. “Perfect fit,” Daring noted.

“Mm.” Berlioz breathed a sigh of relief. Now that the beauty of the crown was covered, it was easier to ignore the greedy voice inside calling for him to take it. “Berlioz is ready to go home.”

Arteria slapped the back of his leg with a wing. “Same. Too bad, though. If you were royalty like me…” She trailed off.

“Hm?”

Arteria blushed fiercely and shook her head. “Nothin! Just be good to have more royalty around that I were friends with! That’s all! Let’s get back to the blinkin’ ship.”

“By the way, I’ll need you two to sign release forms,” Daring said.

“Release forms?” Berlioz frowned.

“Well, you want to be in the next book, right?” Daring smiled.

Arteria gasped. “In the book? Bloody oath, yes! But we gotta talk about my parts. I wanna make sure you make them as shockin’ beautiful as I am.”

“Don’t worry, I know how to tell a good story,” Daring promised. “And this is going to be a best-seller.”

Chapter 3 - The Crystal Empress Protects

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The snow crunched under Phantasma’s hooves. One thing never changed about the Empire, and that was the cold. The city was warm, but when you were cast out of the walls, when the gazes of the ponies within were frostier than the tundra, the warmth of the Crystal Heart didn’t reach inside.

“Hey, you okay?” Luster asked.

Phantasma had been lucky enough to find something else that worked even better than some ancient artifact.

“Just worried, I guess,” Phantasma said. “I haven’t been back in a while.”

Luster nodded in understanding. “I haven’t been here in more than a year.”

“You’ve been here before?” Phantasma asked.

“Of course she has!” A pony called out from ahead of them. A stallion in a thick navy cloak waved from ahead on the trail. Shining Armor took off his snow goggles and smiled at Luster Dawn. “My sister dragged her student just about everywhere to show her off. I remember the first time I saw her, Luster was even shorter than Flurry Heart!”

“I still am,” Luster reminded him. She walked up to Shining Armor and gave him a quick hug.

“In a few years I’m going to be the shortest one in the family,” Shining Armor said. “I guess that’s Twilight’s revenge after all those years of teasing her about how tiny she was.”

“I’m sure she became an alicorn just so she could be taller than you,” Dawn giggled.

“You don’t know what she was like! That’s exactly the sort of thing she’d do!” Shining Armor joked. “So, introduce me to your friends!”

“Sure,” Luster said. “This is Phantasma Gloom. She’s actually from the Empire, but…”

Phantasma gave Shining Armor a nervous smile. He nodded. Thankfully for her, he had long experience with ponies with social anxiety. “It’s good to meet you,” he said. “I've heard about your situation. It must feel weird coming back as part of a school field trip.” He offered his hoof to shake.

“It’s, um…” Phantasma wasn’t sure how to put it into words. “It’s nice to be able to be here with friends,” she decided. It was true, polite, and vague. She shook his hoof lightly, almost afraid to touch it.

“This is Ibis,” Luster said. “She’s a sphinx.”

“I noticed,” Shining Armor said. He shook her paw. “I’ve never met a sphinx before.”

“How are you at riddles?” Ibis asked.

“I wouldn’t say I’m the worst,” Shining Armor said bravely.

“Some time ago I saw a train filled with ponies, but I blinked and there was not a single pony on the train. Why was that?”

“You’re not going to catch me with that one.” Shining Armor smirked. “Cadance happens to love bad jokes. They were all married. None of them were single ponies.”

Ibis scoffed. “Lucky.”

“You’ll have to devour me next time,” Shining Armor said. “And who’s this?”

“This is Larrikin. They’re-- Larrikin, say hello. Larrikin?”

The kelpie stood totally still, smiling vaguely. Ibis waved a paw in front of their face, then poked them with a claw. The kelpie fell over like a statue, legs stiff.

“Frozen solid,” Ibis noted.

“Is that bad?” Luster asked.

“Not great, not terrible,” Ibis said. “This happened last winter. They’ll thaw out once we get them somewhere warm.”

“Are you sure?” Shining Armor asked.

“It’s fine,” Luster assured him. “I bet it was just an excuse so they could try and get out of writing an essay.”

“Speaking of which, if you let me know what you’ll be writing about, I’d be happy to help you get acquainted with the right ponies,” Shining Armor told the group. “I wouldn’t leave you out in the cold.” He paused. “Please don’t tell Twilight I let her student’s friend get frozen today.”

“Someone else go first,” Phantasma whispered.

Ibis shrugged. “I was going to write about the cuisine of the Empire.”

“Really?” Luster asked. “I thought you’d do something with magic or history.”

“I grew up in a desert,” Ibis explained. “Finding interesting food was a challenge. I’m curious to see if the Crystal Ponies suffered the same issues in a tundra, and how they solved them.”

“We’ve got a great palace chef,” Shining Armor assured her. “He can do amazing things with lichen. What about you, Luster?”

“To be honest, I… wasn’t able to come up with any good ideas,” Luster admitted. “I sort of got distracted by a little mystery I came across.”

“A mystery?”

“Well…” she grinned. “So in exchange for not telling a certain Princess about anypony being frozen, maybe you could tell me what’s going on in the Everfree forest?”

“Uh…” Shining Armor hesitated.

“I know, I know,” Luster sighed, starting to pace. “You’re going to tell me that’s way outside the Empire and you don’t know and you hardly talk to Princess Twilight because you’re so busy with other things lately, but you must have heard something! Even just a tiny nibble of a clue! I promise I’ll keep you confidential!”

“I swear, I really don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shining Armor said. “If there’s something going on in the Everfree, I’m not in the loop.”

Luster frowned and looked him in the eye.

“It’s the truth!” Shining protested. “I’m retired. The only time I get to hear about anything with the Guard is when I’m swapping stories with ponies on leave over a few drinks.”

Luster’s ear twitched. “I didn’t say anything about the Guard being there.”

“Uh…” Shining hesitated.

In that moment, the heavens opened up with thunder from above.

“STOP RIGHT THERE, CRIMINAL SCUM!”

The shout had been in the Royal Canterlot Voice, confident and strong and far too loud. Phantasma’s ears were left ringing, and she took a step back away from the explosive cacophony.

A shadow fell over the group. Phantasma looked up to see wings wide enough to fill her field of view as a pony swooped in, landing so delicately she barely left hoofprints on the snow.

She was overflowing with beauty and grace, and every step she took made Phantasma jealous. Even though they had almost the same build, Phantasma was lanky and awkward, and the alicorn before them was her opposite, like an otherworldly being sculpted by a master who didn’t care about what was possible, only what was beautiful.

“I’m here to stop you and your evil plan,” Flurry Heart said. “I won’t let you take one step into the city!”

It wasn’t quite right to say she pushed ponies aside when she stepped up to glare at Phantasma. She just walked, and ponies parted like she was a knife cutting through smoke.

“Evil plan?” Phantasma squeaked, confused.

“That’s right,” Flurry Heart said. “I was informed that a threat was coming to the Empire and here you are.”

Phantasma stepped back, afraid. “We’re just here on a school assignment!”

“A school assignment. That’s a likely story. You’ve even brought monsters to help topple the Empire!” Flurry pointed at Ibis. “I bet she eats ponies!”

“That’s a stereotype,” Ibis said. She very carefully did not confirm or deny what Flurry Heart had said.

“Look, she’s even carrying a victim to snack on!”

“Actually, that’s another one of our classmates,” Luster said, trying to get between Flurry Heart and Phantasma.

“Oh, hi Luster!” Flurry said, her tone completely changing in an instant. “How is Auntie Twilight?”

“Same as always. Keeping secrets and trying to take care of everything without letting other ponies worry about it.”

“Well this is something I can take care of myself,” Flurry said.

“Honey, this isn’t an invasion. This is a school field trip,” Shining Armor said. “Of course you knew they were coming - we planned it all out with Principal Starlight, remember?”

“That’s not what I mean, daddy!” Flurry said, and it was very nearly a pout but one couldn’t imagine a creature of unearthly beauty pouting like the teenager she hadn’t been in a decade, so obviously it wasn’t really pouting.

“Then what do you mean?” Shining Armor asked, sighing. “Because as far as I can tell, these are just a few very nice creatures who’ve come here to learn about the Empire’s culture.”

“It was revealed to me in a dream!” Flurry said. “You know alicorns can have prophetic dreams and I’m sure this was one of them! I saw a terrible evil taking over the Empire! I have to stop it before it’s too late!”

“Honey, you’ve never had a prophetic dream. Your mother hasn’t ever had a prophetic dream. I’ve never had one either, but mine are mostly about sandwiches and I wouldn’t mind if they started coming true.” He smiled and licked his lips. “Mm. Pickled radish and swiss with honey mustard.”

“Daddy, please, I am trying to stop an invasion of the Empire!”

“Um, excuse me?” Luster coughed. “Princess Flurry Heart, I can personally vouch for Phantasma. She’s one of my best friends.”

An expression crossed Flurry Heart’s face too quickly for Luster to really make out what was going on, because before it could really solidify into an emotion, a mask slammed down on top of it and kept feelings from getting out.

“I see,” Flurry Heart said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Luster said. “Apology accepted.”

“I’m sorry you’ve fallen to the lure of evil,” Flurry said. “I understand why you would. Most unicorns go through a phase like that.”

“A phase?!”

“Now, behold!” Flurry Heart’s horn lit up, and a crystal appeared in front of her in a soft twinkle of pink light. She grabbed it with a hoof, and the crystal grew like a sprouting tree, forming into a shining blade of purity and power. “This is the ancient sword Astreia, and with this blade, I will--”

Her ear was suddenly surrounded by a pink aura and tugged hard towards Shining Armor.

“Flurry Heart, no threatening our guests!” Shining Armor said, now fully in Dad-Mode. “If you can’t be polite, you can practice it while you’re grounded.”

“Daddy!” Flurry whined, tearing up and trying to get away from his grip. If she’d been thinking clearly she could have broken free easily since she had the power of a thousand exploding suns, but it really hurt to have her ear tugged like that.

“Apologize right now,” Shining ordered, letting go.

Flurry huffed and looked down at the ground. She lowered the ancient crystal sword, blessed by a thousand years of prayers from the crystal pony mystics that had forged it. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“Sorry for what?” Shining Armor prompted.

“‘M sorry for threatening you with a sword and calling you evil,” Flurry mumbled.

Shining Armor looked at Phantasma.

“I accept your apology?” Phantasma said, feeling very self-conscious about being in the middle of all this.

“Good,” Shining Armor said. He smiled. “I’m glad that’s all settled.”

“I’m gonna go tell Mom!” Flurry said, flapping up into the air. It very nearly looked like she blew a raspberry at the group but, of course, that was something no Princess would do. “She’ll believe me about evil threats to the Empire!”

Shining Armor sighed and watched her storm away. Literally. A snowstorm appeared in her wake, flakes already starting to fall thick and fast.

“Let’s get inside before the rest of us freeze,” he said.

“So I only heard about half of what was going on because I was frozen, but I’m glad you wouldn’t eat me, Ibis,” Larrikin said.

“I didn’t specifically say that but… I wouldn’t,” Ibis said. “I’m an obligate carnivore.”

“Aw, that’s what I love about you!” Larrikin said, hugging the sphinx’s leg.

“I’m so sorry about the way our daughter was acting,” Princess Cadance said. They’d gotten into the city and then very quickly to the palace. It was evident at least some of what Flurry had said had gotten around to the crystal ponies. They kept their distance and shot the group some very unfriendly looks.

For the others, it was shameful and humiliating to walk to the palace with ponies whispering about them openly. Mares peeking out from behind curtains, stallions crossing the street to avoid them, foals ushered away by their parents before they could get too close. For Phantasma it was Tuesday.

“Can I pour anyone another mug of tea?” Cadance asked. “It’s the best thing for warming up.”

“What kind of tea is this, anyway?” Larrikin asked. “It’s really good.”

“It’s made from Crystal Berries,” Cadance said. “They’re one of the few edible plants the crystal ponies can cultivate outside the city without magical assistance. It’s a major export.”

“Ooh! So they don’t freeze even when it’s cold? I think that’s what I want to do my paper on. Maybe I can learn how to not freeze.”

“You just want something where you can get snacks,” Ibis said.

“Aren’t you doing yours on cuisine?”

Ibis shrugged lightly. “I am not entirely beyond reproach in this.”

“Has something happened that’s got Princess Flurry Heart on edge?” Luster asked. “She wasn’t like this last time we hung out.”

“It’s a lot of little things,” Princess Cadance sighed. “Mostly she’s just restless. She’s been told she’s destined for great things, and she’s struggling to figure out what that really means.”

“It… must be difficult,” Phantasma said, without really meaning it very much. Cadance gave her an apologetic smile.

“I know you’re originally from the Empire,” Cadance said. “I’m sorry for the way you were treated as a filly. I should be able to look out for all my subjects, but the best I could do for you was send you away.”

“It’s not your fault,” Phantasma whispered.

“It’s not yours, either,” Cadance said. “Something Flurry Heart needs to learn is that the circumstances of a pony’s birth aren’t important, it’s what they choose to do with the life they’re given.”

“I’ve got friends now,” Phantasma said, looking at Luster. “That’s enough for me.”

Cadance’s smile warmed up a little, ticking over from apologetic to happy for another pony. “I heard from Shiny that you were having a little trouble coming up with a subject for your essay.”

“I sort of got distracted by other things,” Luster admitted.

“If you both promise to be careful, I can show you one of the castle’s biggest secrets,” Cadance said. “I think it’d be perfect for an essay. I know none of the other students that came here have ever written about it.”

Luster looked at Phantasma. “Is it dangerous?”

“Not anymore,” Cadance assured them. “It is a little spooky, though. I’d want both of you to stay together just in case. Think you can do that?”

Phantasma nodded.

“So what is this secret, anyway?” Luster asked.

“The place King Sombra hid the Crystal Heart.”

“And it only opens up with dark magic?” Luster asked, touching the wall. The crystal was somehow different to the rest of the castle, and she couldn’t figure out how it all fit in the structure.

“That’s right,” Cadance said. “Twilight explained it as some kind of portals leading to non-euclidean spaces… I couldn’t really follow the math.” She giggled. “The doorway here had a trap on it, but it’s been disarmed. Otherwise just opening it would show you your worst fear!”

Phantasma shivered. “How horrible…”

“Where does it lead?” Luster asked.

“Nowhere, right now,” Cadance said. “It used to lead to a secret passage that went to the very top of the castle and a hidden room.” She opened the door, showing that the other side was flat against a dark crystal wall.

“Is there any way to open it back up?” Luster asked, looking closely at the ornate frame around the door.

“I’m afraid it’s beyond me,” Cadance said. “Twilight told me it was some sort of magical lock, but I’ve never opened it myself. It shouldn’t be dangerous anymore, but I wouldn’t play around with it. Maybe she can show you herself next time you visit.”

Luster nodded, a little disappointed.

“Thank you for showing us all this, Princess Cadance,” Phantasma said. “I’m sure it’ll make for a great essay.”

“It’s no problem, Phantasma. I’ve got to take care of a few things. Will you two be okay alone?”

“We’ll be fine,” Luster said. “Are there any books in the castle library about this place?”

“I’ll send somepony to check. I’m sure we’ve got something. If nothing else, I know Twilight wrote a report on it and we’ve got a copy somewhere.”

“That’d be perfect! Thanks, Princess!” Luster smiled.

Cadance nodded to Luster Dawn, inclined her head a little more to Phantasma, then flew off, flying in a tight circle upwards instead of using the long, uneven staircase.

Luster waited for her to leave before speaking.

“Figures that their big secret is an empty basement,” she said quietly. “It seems excessive, though. Why would Sombra build a secret chamber that just leads to another secret chamber?”

“Maybe he was just paranoid,” Phantasma suggested. “Like, um… he built this chamber, right? Then he thinks ponies found out about it, so he builds another chamber, and adds traps and portals to keep ponies out.”

“It could be,” Luster agreed. “But something doesn’t feel right. There has to be more to it. I can just smell it!”

Phantasma looked up at the crystals set into the doorframe. “Princess Cadance said they used some kind of… dark magic lock.”

“Probably a particular resonance or frequency to activate the doorway,” Luster said. She opened it up again and touched the bare crystal behind the door. “This isn’t a fake wall. If you look at the frame, it’s similar to some of Starswirl’s theoretical designs for gateways between distant places.”

“So it opens up a portal?”

“Sure. This whole basement has to be extradimensional - it can’t fit into the castle, so it must be underground somewhere with no real entrance or exit. I doubt there were any crystal ponies that could do dark magic, so they couldn’t break in no matter how hard they tried. No locks to pick or doors to bash down.”

“And even if they got in, they wouldn’t know how to get out…”

“The only thing I don’t get is why it only goes to the Crystal Heart. Why not an escape route, or a safe room full of supplies, or, I don’t know, a secret spa where he can take a long bubble bath in peace?”

“Maybe it does,” Phantasma said.

“Huh?”

Phantasma looked around nervously to make sure they were really alone. “I just have a weird feeling,” she said. “Tell me if you see anypony coming.”

Her outlines blurred and details faded as she turned into smoke, an indistinct mass for a long moment before her face reappeared, the black mist piling up until one could almost believe there was a body hidden within it, even if that body would have to be taller than Princess Twilight.

“Oh, I get it!” Luster Dawn said. “Maybe you can trick the door into thinking you’re Sombra!” She saw Phantasma’s expression fall, the vapors swirling in anxious curls. “Not that you’re anything like him! Sorry.”

Phantasma sighed. She turned back to the door, trying to push her feelings aside. She tried to coax out just the tiniest bit of dark magic, gently probing at the enchantments on the ornate doorway, slipping between the metaphorical gears like a shim in a padlock.

It was difficult to focus. Just being back in the Empire would have been tough enough. Having the symbol of the Empire’s perfection and beauty and love accusing her of being an evil menace would have left her in tears for a week if she didn’t have friends supporting her. And now she couldn’t help thinking about Luster indirectly saying she was like Sombra.

The emotions leaked into her magic, and there was a spark as something caught between her and the doorway, slipping into place in just the right way. The door slammed shut, and a glow flashed behind it before settling into a steady, pale light.

Phantasma backed away, cutting off the thin stream of magic and gathered herself both literally and figuratively, trying to clear her head. She stumbled when she solidified, and Luster was instantly there to catch her.

“Woah! Are you okay?” Luster asked. “That looked like it hurt.”

“I’m okay,” Phantasma whispered. Her head was pounding, but letting out her feelings, even that tiny bit, somehow felt like a release. It was like some of the old hurt had drained out of her to fuel the magic she’d tapped into.

“Whatever you did, it activated the door,” Luster said. “I’m going to try opening it. You stand back, okay?”

“Maybe I should be the one to open it…”

Luster shook her head. “If something goes wrong, I wouldn’t know how to start saving you. Don’t worry, I trust you.”

She patted Phantasma on the shoulder and stepped up to the doorway. She put a hoof on the doorknob and looked up with trepidation to the gems set above the portal. If they’d accidentally reactivated the trap, she was about to see her worst fear. What would it be? Nothing simple like spiders or snakes. They didn’t bother her. Death just seemed too vague and she wasn’t familiar with it enough to really be scared of the abstract notion. Maybe clowns?

Luster slowly opened it, and the first thing she saw was roaring flame, and in that instant realized she really hadn’t ever gotten over being almost burned to death a few times. She shrieked and threw herself back, covering her face.

The expected heat and pain never came, and she opened her eyes to find Phantasma looking down at her.

“Can you hear me?” Phantasma asked. “Oh, I hope this isn’t one of those illusion spells where it’s like a pony is sleepwalking…”

“No, no, I can see and hear you,” Luster sighed, relaxing. “I just thought I saw…”

“Sombra?”

“Actually it was…” she sat up and looked at the open door. Instead of a portal into her worst fears, it just looked like an ordinary door leading into a cluttered office beyond, complete with a lit fireplace. “I guess it was just in my head.”

“Are you sure?” Phantasma asked. She looked into the office. “Because I’m seeing something too.”

They slowly approached like the revealed desk and paperwork might lunge at them. Luster braced herself and stepped through, ready to be attacked. Nothing happened for a long moment.

“I think it’s safe,” she declared. Then she braced herself again in case the universe was going to prove her wrong. Oddly, it didn’t take the opportunity to try and serve her an ironic death, and nothing continued to happen.

“It reminds me of Miss Trixie’s office at school,” Phantasma said, looking at the organized chaos of paperwork, scrolls, and books. She picked up a sheet of paper, which was just a list of names written in bold, dark strokes. Most of them were crossed out, the marks getting more violent as they went down the page.

“This room must have been preserved for a thousand years!” Luster whispered. She pulled a book down from the bookshelves. “This collection is probably worth a fortune to the right collector. Some of these books belong in a museum.”

“That’s not the only thing,” Phantasma said, pointing across the room.

A statue stood there, the size of one of the Princesses and made out of a dark, chipped crystal, almost like coal. Cracks ran through it from every angle, some barely visible, others deep rifts where pieces didn’t quite fit together. Some pieces were simply missing, and even Phantasma could see that others were forced into place where they didn’t belong.

“Weird,” Luster said. “Who’s that supposed to be?”

“I think it’s Princess Amore,” Phantasma said. “She was the ruler before King Sombra took over. But why would he keep a statue of her around?”

“Looks like he kept it around to use as a punching bag,” Luster said. “The whole statue was shattered at least once.”

“And then he put it back together?” Phantasma asked.

Luster shrugged. “Crazy works in mysterious ways.”

Phantasma picked up one of the open books lying near the statue, finding the same heavy, black script.

“Shattering her was a mistake,” Phantasma read. “To most of my subjects she simply vanished and I have no proof of her death. Worse, some have started gathering her shards. There shouldn’t be any of her magic left, but for some reason ponies with those shards seem to resist my control.”

“That must be one of Sombra’s personal journals,” Luster said, trying to look over Phantasma’s shoulder and failing since Phantasma was taller than she was.

“Shattering her was a mistake…” Phantasma repeated. “Luster, I don’t think that’s a statue.”

“You mean… it’s the real Princess Amore?” Luster asked.

Phantasma nodded and read further.

“I found myself assembling the shards I took from the rebels. I wasn’t sure why. Idle hooves now that I’m victorious? But as they clicked together, I realized, this is the only way to be sure I have them all. It makes sense. Perhaps my subconscious realized it as well. I’ll reassemble her to make sure I have it all, then break her again, this time where my slaves can see it. That will break the last vestiges of the rebellion.”

She skipped ahead a few pages of rambling, the steady, thick writing becoming thinner and wandering away from straight lines.

“She’s staring at me again,” Phantasma read. “She knows the ponies don’t respect me. They only fear me. It’s what I thought I wanted, but every one of my slaves is a threat. I haven’t found every shard, how many of them are secretly outside of my control? Could she be whispering secrets to them? Sometimes I hear her speaking to me. I tried shattering her, to make the whispering stop, but I think I lost some of the shards. When I put her back together there were places that didn’t fit right. I can feel her judging me. She mocks me. A ruler who can’t even put a puzzle back together.”

“He was really losing it,” Luster noted.

“Why did she let the Crystal Heart hurt me? Why wouldn’t she tell me why, so I could at least understand why I was suffering? I wasn’t so different from other ponies. I had friends. I had hobbies. I wanted to fit in. I, too, once loved.”

Phantasma quietly closed the journal.

“I guess everypony thinks they’re the hero of their own story,” Luster said.

Phantasma shook her head, looking at the book. “He knew he was the villain,” she said. “I could feel it in the way he wrote. He could tell the difference between what he was and what Princess Amore had been, and it ate at him.”

“Do you think she really whispered to him?” Luster asked, looking up at the statue. It was somehow endlessly sad. Disappointed and broken-hearted, like a parent watching their beloved child doing the wrong thing.

“I think he believed it,” Phantasma said. “Maybe it was his conscience? He couldn’t have always been an evil monster.”

“We should go get Princess Cadance,” Luster decided. “She should know about this. Maybe if she and Princess Twilight work together, they could figure out some way to bring Princess Amore back!”

“They should at least make sure she isn’t in pain,” Phantasma said, meeting the statue’s gaze. “I… hope she can at least rest in peace.”

“I knew it!” shouted a pony from the doorway. Phantasma and Luster Dawn spun to find Flurry Heart standing there, her fur puffed up. “I came down here ready to help with your essay, and what do I find? The second you’re left alone, you try to take action on your evil plan!”

“Hold on,” Luster said. “All we did was--”

“No, I don’t want to hear about how she misled you,” Flurry said. “You’re a victim, Luster Dawn, and because we were friends I know you’re just being used. I have to save you by defeating the evil in front of me!”

“All we did was--”

“I challenge you to a duel!” Flurry Heart declared. “When I defeat you, you’ll be banished!”

Phantasma sighed resignedly.

“Why did you accept?!” Luster groaned.

“Because I don’t care if she banishes me,” Phantasma admitted. “I don’t like the Crystal Empire. I’ll be happy if I never have to come back here. Look at the way the ponies treat me!”

“They’re just... “ Luster hesitated.

“Scared,” Phantasma spat. “They’re scared of me. I know. I’m just tired of being… being shunned everywhere I go. I want to go home and have friends who care about me and…” she sniffled. “Who cares about the Empire? I’m never coming back here anyway.”

Luster hugged Phantasma. “That’s what I’m worried about. Flurry Heart isn’t just a Princess in the Empire. She could have you banished from Equestria!”

Phantasma’s eyes went wide, and she made a sound not unlike an incredibly distressed wild animal.

“B-but…” Phantasma squeaked. “She can’t really do that!”

“She can,” Luster said. “And she will. She doesn’t do anything halfway. She’s… not a pony who really understands restraint. We were friends when I was in Canterlot, and she was always going over the top with everything. Nothing could be small or subtle. We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t try to put you on the moon!”

“What do we do?” Phantasma asked.

“We need some kind of strategy. She… well, she’s absurdly strong. Her magic is at least as powerful as Princess Twilight’s, who also happens to be her teacher. Shining Armor taught her everything she knows about weapons and armor…”

“So I have no chance at all?”

“You have one edge,” Luster said. “You get to choose the weapons. You can keep her from using that ancient crystal sword, or her magic. I don’t suppose you have any secret training in spears or flails or something?”

“I’ve never even held a weapon.”

“Okay. Then we need something that’ll even the odds…” Luster frowned. “Crossbows.”

“Crossbows?”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s got stronger magic than you. If you’re both using the same type of crossbow, they’ll be equal, and there’s no technique or special way to hold them that’s going to give her an advantage. They were designed to make weak unicorns able to hold their own in combat, they’re the perfect answer.”

“The perfect answer except we’ll be trying to shoot each other with crossbows!”

“The stakes are only to first blood. As long as you don’t hit her in the head or chest, she’ll be fine. Eventually.”

“I can’t just shoot a pony with a crossbow,” Phantasma said. “If I miss, she could die. And if she doesn’t miss…”

“It’s not a perfect plan, but do you have anything better?” Luster asked.

“I could just concede. Maybe they’ll send me somewhere that isn’t so bad, like the Changeling Hive or Griffonstone…”

The door creaked open. Shining Armor stepped inside, looking exhausted. “Come on. Let’s get this over with,” he sighed. “Luster Dawn, you wait here. Phantasma Gloom, come with me.”

The armory was, surprisingly, not a dusty room full of artifacts. It was well-kept, clean, and had an accurate inventory thanks to the quartermaster. Shining Armor was, after all, not that unlike his sister, even if he preferred to keep something besides books organized.

“I don’t like any of this,” Shining Armor said. “You shouldn’t have accepted her challenge.”

“I didn’t think she could banish me from Equestria…” Phantasma whispered.

Shining Armor took a deep breath. “It’s not entirely your fault. She shouldn’t have challenged you. I tried to talk her out of it, but she’s being stubborn and unfortunately, the law says she’s an adult and I can’t order her to stop.”

“Why is she doing this?” Phantasma asked. “It’s not just because… I look like this, is it?”

“I’d like to think I raised my daughter better than that,” Shining Armor said. “She knows better than to judge a creature by the way they look. She should know better, anyway. The real problem is…” he scoffed. “The real problem is that you and she are a lot alike.”

“No we aren’t. She’s perfect. Everypony loves her. I’m just…”

“She doesn’t fit in. She was born different.” Shining Armor countered. “She grew up alone and didn’t have real friends. She had ponies that worshipped her, but she wasn’t ever close to anypony except me, Cadance, and Twilight. Nopony her own age, and because she was a Princess she thought she had to grow up fast.”

“But you and Cadance seem like good parents. She must have been happy.”

“We tried to give her a good foalhood, but…” Shining Armor shrugged. “She grew up too worried about duty. She didn’t get to have fun. But when she was taking lessons with Twilight, she got to know another pony.”

“...Luster Dawn,” Phantasma whispered.

Shining Armor nodded. “They weren’t the same age, but… Flurry Heart got to act like a foal, just a little. She got to take classes with another pony who didn’t worship her. They were friends.”

“What happened?”

“Flurry Heart finished her lessons and came home, and when she went back to see Luster… she’d moved to Ponyville.”

“And she was alone again…”

“Let’s just say the last few months haven’t been easy on her,” Shining Armor said. “Speaking of which, I don’t think she’s going to take it easy on you. Cadance is still trying to talk her out of this whole thing, but I don’t think it’s going to work, so I figured I’d do my best to help you find a way to avoid getting anypony really hurt.”

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Phantasma said.

“And as Flurry’s father, I deeply appreciate that, but honestly I’m more worried for you than about you. To be honest? I don’t think you’ve got a chance. I don’t know if I’d have a chance.”

“That’s something we have in common.”

“Frankly, I don’t want her accidentally killing you. She doesn’t know her limits, and that kind of blood on her hooves… it doesn’t wash away. Flurry doesn’t need to find out about that, hopefully ever, but at least not as long as I can do anything about it.”

Phantasma nodded, her head hung. She walked through the racks of polished polearms of every size and description, swords sharpened to razors, warhammers that could shatter a boulder, and couldn’t see even one that wouldn’t kill.

She turned a corner and blinked as the armory turned into a toy store.

“Are those action figures?” Phantasma asked.

Shining Armor laughed and walked over. “Actually they’re miniatures. They’re for a game called Battlemallet. I used to keep them in the bedroom, but Cadance didn’t like them so she made me put them somewhere else. I almost forgot these were in here! The quartermaster must have been taking care of them, too. Not even a speck of dust on them.”

Phantasma spotted the crossbows at the other end of the rack. It was her only chance, a weapon that would have the same force no matter what pony was using it. She took a step towards it, hesitated, then looked back at Shining Armor.

“And I can choose anything in the armory?” Phantasma asked, making sure.

He nodded.

“Okay. I know what I want.”

“You want to settle our duel with a children’s board game?!” Flurry Heart shouted. Her voice rattled the walls of the conference room, the empty chairs seeming to vibrate a few inches away from her displeasure like they were occupied by the ghosts of ponies who knew royalty was to be feared as much as it was loved.

“Inside voice,” Cadance warned.

“She’s disrespecting me,” Flurry Heart said. “She isn’t taking me seriously!”

“There’s precedent for it,” Luster Dawn said. She opened a thick book to where she’d shoved a bookmark. “A hundred and thirty years before the Empire vanished, there was even a popular fad where the nobility would settle their differences with card games. A tabletop game isn’t all that different.”

“But it’s not fair!” Flurry whined.

“Are you saying that because you’re afraid you’ll lose?” Shining Armor asked. “I know we taught you violence was wrong, and this is a way to settle your differences without anypony getting hurt.”

“But--”

“You didn’t just want to hurt her, did you?” Shining Armor asked, pointedly. “Because I know I didn’t raise somepony who uses her talents like that.”

Flurry puffed out her cheeks in a gesture that would have been foalish if it hadn’t been from the perfect, graceful, destined defender of the Crystal Empire. “Fine. But I don’t like it.”

Cadance let out a breath that she’d apparently been holding.

“So the first thing each of you will need to do is pick an army,” Shining Armor said, standing up and putting books on the conference table between them. Each of the slim volumes was marked with a bold name and art of explosions and grim-faced mares carrying various types of impractical implements of war.

“She can borrow the miniatures, right?” Luster asked. “From what I remember outfitting a Battlemallet army costs about the same as Equestria’s actual defense budget.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty,” Shining Armor promised. “Just try not to chip the paint.”

Flurry grabbed the stack of books and flipped through them.

“You’ve played before?” Phantasma whispered to Luster, while Flurry examined her options.

“A little,” Luster said. “Princess Twilight plays Elder Unicornia. I know the basics of most of the armies, so depending on what she picks, you can find a decent counter.”

“I’ll play as the Ultramares,” Flurry Heart said, dropping the rest of the books on the table. Luster hissed through her teeth. "They shall be my warriors, this army I have chosen. They will be of iron will and steely muscle. In great armor shall I clad them, and with the mightiest guns will they be armed. They will be untouched by plague or disease, no sickness will blight them. With my tactics, strategies, and army list, no foe, not even a cheating evil pony bent on conquest, shall best them. They are my bulwark against your evil. They are the Defenders of the Crystal Empire. They are my Ultramares and they shall know no fear."

“Is that bad?” Phantasma asked. She picked up the books and started flipping through them, as if one would be marked

“They’re sort of… the strongest army,” Luster admitted. “They’ve become the main characters, and every time there’s a new edition of the game they get updates and new models to get players to buy more stuff.”

“So which one do I use?” Phantasma asked.

“Well, um…” Luster hesitated. “There’s nothing that’s really great against them.”

“Luster, I don’t know anything about this game!”

“Okay, okay! Let me think. Chaos Space Mares would be okay… Definitely not Royal Guard. Vampony Counts is four editions out of date. Brothers of Battle are even older.” She flipped to the last book. “Tomb Princesses…”

“Are they good?”

“I’ve got an idea that might work but… you might not like it.”

“So you start by taking turns placing terrain,” Shining Armor said.

“I can’t believe you have a referee shirt,” Cadance sighed.

Shining Armor adjusted his striped shirt and smiled. “It’s official merch, you know. I got it for judging a tournament at a Wizards Workshop store back in high school.”

Cadance giggled. “I can tell. You’ve also grown since high school.”

Shining Armor blushed and tried to ignore that the shirt was a little short and a little tight around the middle.

“I’ll place terrain first!” Flurry Heart declared. She grabbed a copse of trees and slammed them down on the table, covering one corner of the board. “I don’t fear whatever evil plan you’ve brewed up! I’ll leave the center of the table open, so we can fight fairly - if you dare!”

Phantasma met her gaze steadily, which unnerved Flurry Heart more than she would want to admit - her subjects always lowered their gaze from her perfection. They weren’t supposed to challenge her like an equal.

“I’m not afraid of a fair fight, Flurry Heart,” Phantasma said. She carefully placed stone monoliths down at the opposite corner. “I’ll also choose to leave the center of the table open. My forces won’t cower just because you were born a princess.”

Flurry Heart winced like she’d been slapped. How had Phantasma known that reminding her she hadn’t yet earned the grace she’d been born with would hurt that badly? She glared across the table, hurt turning into hot anger.

“I’m done placing terrain. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t try some kind of deceptive flanking maneuver.”

“I’m finished as well,” Phantasma said, her voice steady and cool.

“Okay, then,” Shining Armor said. “Flurry Heart, you won the pre-game initiative roll, so you’ll begin deployment first.”

“I’ll start by deploying my War Princess, Marenus Canter!” She placed an imposing pony in thick blue armor down, along with five ornately-armored, slightly smaller ponies. “Thanks to the changes in this edition, she and her honor guard are Primarus Guards now, blessed by the alicorns and far stronger than any unit in your entire codex!”

“Flurry, are you sure you should deploy your leader there?” Shining Armor asked quietly. “That’s right on the front lines.”

“If the Princess does not lead, how can she expect her subordinates to follow?” Flurry asked. “I will sweep down upon you like a hammer upon an anvil!”

“When a hammer and anvil meet, it’s never the anvil that suffers,” Phantasma said. “I’ll deploy my own War Princess, the Risen Princess, Zahnkama!” Phantasma put down the bandage-wrapped skeletal figurine far from the front lines, and Flurry Heart smirked.

“I thought you weren’t a coward?” Flurry taunted. “Why are you deploying her so far away?”

“You’ll find out,” Phantasma said.

“The only thing I need to find out is where to point my forces to end this travesty of a battle more quickly!” Flurry yelled. “I’ll deploy a squad of Primarus Assault Guards in formation with Marenus Canter.”

“And I’ll deploy a full unit of Necrony Fighters on my front lines,” Phantasma said. She placed down a massive formation of simple models, the thin skeletal figures looking practically tiny compared to Flurry Heart’s units.

Flurry laughed. “Those are some of the weakest units in the game! My Assault Guards will tear right through those pathetic corpses!”

“Your father’s armies have no pathetic units!” Phantasma declared.

“Their stat lines beg to disagree! As my final unit, I’ll place this!” She placed a massive form on her back lines, a mechanical pony that dwarfed everything else, like it was on an entirely different scale. “An Ultramares Knight Golem! It’s stronger than anything you can bring to this fight!”

“That’s going to eat up the last of your points, Flurry,” Shining Armor warned.

“I know,” Flurry said. “I only need these units to win.”

“Since you’ve used up all of your points, I’ll deploy the rest of my forces,” Phantasma said. “Another full unit of Necrony Fighters to reinforce my front line, two battalions of archers, and this!” She placed a step-sided pyramid on the battlefield. “A Tomb Princess Monolith! Finally, I’ll place down this marker.” Flurry set a small game token in front of her War Princess.

“It seems to me like you’ve already lost,” Flurry said. “My units are far stronger, faster, and tougher than anything you’ve deployed. Did you even spend all your points?”

“Is that what you think? Perhaps you should take your first turn, then,” Phantasma said.

“I will!” Flurry shouted. “I’ll show you how foolish you were to face a real Princess in battle! Marenus Canter and her honor guard charge at your front lines, and thanks to their enhanced speed, they can reach you this turn! Whatever you were planning, it’s already failed!”

She moved the half-dozen models up the table into contact with Phantasma’s front lines.

“Now watch as I roll my attacks, and your pathetic undead fall before my righteous blades!” Flurry cast out more than a dozen dice. Almost every single one was a hit, and almost every hit felled one of the Necrony Fighters.

Flurry smirked as Phantasma moved the fallen models to the side.

“You see? You can’t hope to beat me in close combat. My units are simply stronger. Better in every way. That’s what happens when good faces up against evil.”

“Don’t boast yet, Flurry. All you’ve done is roll some dice.”

“And I’ll be rolling more. It’s still my turn, and I bring my Assault Guards forward! They’ll press the attack against your already-decimated unit of Necrony Fighters!”

She pushed the rest of her infantry into the melee, rolling a dozen more dice. More of the skeletons were taken off the table. Flurry’s front lines were thinned almost to the breaking point. She winced with every die that came up a hit, carefully picking her losses to avoid breaking formation.

“Are you almost done?” Phantasma asked.

“I move my Knight Golem forward. It isn’t in range yet, but once it is, it’s all over.” She carefully set the large model a few inches forward. “Think of it as a countdown to your banishment! You can take your turn, and if I were you I’d savor it, because you won’t have many!”

“Very well,” Phantasma said. “First, I roll to see how many of my Necrony Fighters return to the battlefield.”

“What?!” Flurry demanded. “What do you mean?!”

“Tomb Princess units might have weak statistics, but they are tenacious,” Phantasma said. “Necrony Fighters that have fallen will return to battle if I roll a five or more on this die.”

“Well, with how many you’ve lost, you’ll only get… what, seven or eight of them back?” Flurry scoffed. “I can easily deal with that.”

“Or at least it would be a five or more, if it wasn’t for two things. First, the Risen Princess Zahnkama carries the Orb of Resurrection! That improves the chances for each unit to return. And with a Necrony Monolith in range, they can immediately return anywhere I want, putting them right back into melee against your forces!”

Flurry Heart scoffed. “That’s just a cheap trick to make weak units stronger!”

“There are no cheap tricks in war, Flurry Heart. There’s only victory and defeat, and these dice will reveal my star of victory!” Phantasma rolled, and smiled when she saw the results.

Flurry Heart seethed as she placed the models back on the table.

“It seems that almost all that hard work you did has already been undone,” Phantasma said. “You focused too much on how strong your units could be. What you forgot is that even seemingly weak units have a purpose.”

“Then go ahead and roll your attacks,” Flurry Heart said. “If there’s even a point.”

“I will!” Phantasma rolled, easily three times as many attacks as Flurry Heart had made. Flurry Heart laughed.

“All that effort, all those dice rolled, and all you managed was a single wound. Unlike your undead that shatter with a single blow, my Primarus Ultramares have two wounds! You weren’t able to take down even a single one of my units!”

“Managing even one wound is more than I needed,” Phantasma said. “You misunderstand the purpose of my Fighters. They aren’t there to deal damage, they’re simply a screening unit to keep you where I want you!”

“What?!”

“The real power of my army is from my archers,” Phantasma said. “While they may individually be weak, I brought two full battalions, and as they don’t need to move to get in range with your units, they’ll be doubling the number of attacks they make.”

“Twice as many pathetic attacks is still pathetic!”

“As they say, a few sparrows working together can drive away a hawk. Weakness is only frailty if you’re alone, and my units are far from alone!” Phantasma threw out dozens of dice, and as Flurry watched in horror, they were followed by dozens more.

“But your units are in close combat! You can’t just shoot through them!” Flurry shouted.

“Tomb Princesses can shoot into combat, as long as they’re willing to make sacrifices,” Shining Armor said. “For every miss, she has a one in six chance of taking a wound to her own units.”

“But that means she’ll end up taking almost as many wounds as I do!”

“And which of us do you think suffers more from that?” Phantasma asked.

“That’s just the kind of dishonorable strategy I should have expected from an evil foe like you,” Flurry said. She begrudgingly moved a few of the Honor Guard off the board, along with two of her Assault Guards. “You’ve lost far more units than I did, though.”

“A trade I’m willing to make, Flurry Heart,” Phantasma said, picking her sacrifices out from her squad. “Go ahead and take your next turn.”

“I will,” Flurry said. “And I’ll start by taking advantage of a huge mistake you’ve made! You choose the wrong Necrony Fighters to remove, because my Assault Guard squad is no longer stuck in melee! They’re free to move and attack, and thanks to their Jump Packs, they can reach your archers!”

Flurry moved the Assault Guards, putting them well behind the front lines.

“Your strategy won’t work at all if you don’t have the archers to attack with!” She laughed and rolled, smiling at her own brilliance.

“I’m lucky,” Phantasma said.

“Lucky? Didn’t you see how many wounds you have to assign?”

Phantasma nodded. “I was worried you wouldn’t deal enough!”

“What?!”

Phantasma started removing models. Flurry watched in confusion, then alarm, as she removed every single one of her archers in melee range. “My units can shoot into melee, but not out of it. Because your units are so strong, they destroyed every archer in their range, leaving the rest free to shoot!”

“Laugh while you can. My knight is almost in range of your front lines, and it can annihilate your entire unit of Necrony Fighters. They might be able to come back as long as some of the unit is on the field, but if I take out every member of their squad they’ll be gone permanently, just like you’ll soon be!”

She rolled the attacks for her War Princess and Honor Guard, taking out another chunk of Necrony Fighters, at least temporarily.

“All I need to do is push through your lines and destroy your War Princess,” Flurry Heart said. “Once she falls, the match will be over for good! And with my Knight being able to come in range of your army next turn, it means this is your last chance to do anything at all!”

“Don’t be too sure about that, Flurry. Overconfidence often leads ponies to defeat.” Phantasma shifted her resurrected Fighters back to the table. “My archers will ignore the Assault Guard and focus fire on your War Princess! What you’ve really done is make it more difficult for yourself to share wounds between your units!”

“What was it you said about being overconfident?” Flurry asked. “I activate Marenus Canter’s Iron Peytral! That will give him and every unit in his Honor Guard an additional Invulnerable save this turn! You don’t have a hope of doing any real damage before the curtain falls!”

Phantasma winced and rolled. Flurry Heart laughed.

“Only a single wound, easily absorbed without losing any of my Honor Guard.” She shook her head. “All that for a drop of blood.”

“I…” Phantasma hesitated.

“It’s my turn now,” Flurry Heart said. “I’m going to enjoy this. First, I’ll move my Knight Golem, and now that it’s finally in range, we’ll start by cleaning up the trash. It will begin by firing its autoballistas on your Necrony Fighters!”

“You’re going to fire into close combat after criticizing me for doing the same?”

“Marenus Canter’s special War Princess ability, Danger Close, means unlike your Necrony Fighters, my own warriors aren’t in danger! That’s the difference between a real Princess who cares about her troops and one who simply throws them at the front lines to die again and again!”

Flurry rolled, and Phantasma watched as her Fighters were torn apart.

“And now, let’s take care of that annoying Monolith! My Knight attacks with its Volcano Cannon!”

“It can reach from that distance?” Phantasma gasped.

“Of course! Fortunately for you, it can’t quite reach your War Princess, but that will change soon enough!” Flurry tossed out some dice, and the Monolith was removed from the table. “So much for your most expensive unit.”

“Without the Monolith I can’t redeploy my risen troops back to the front lines! They’ll come into play all the way in the back of my deployment zone, and with how slow they are compared to her Primarus Guards, they won’t be able to even get to the battlefield before it’s too late!”

“And don’t even bother attacking my Knight Golem. Its Star Shields will absorb your weak attacks without even needing to roll! It’s true that quantity has gotten you a few minor victories, but you lack the qualities needed of a Princess that would have let you win this battle!”

“Flurry Heart, remember sportsmareship is important,” Shining Armor warned.

“Yes, Daddy,” Flurry Heart said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it as a personal insult, even if you are evil.”

Phantasma rolled her eyes.

“Now, prepare for your destruction! Marenus Canter has a clear path to your War Princess! She’ll charge right through the wreckage of your Monolith and you’ll see the true power she brings to the battlefield as I wipe out your undead queen!”

Flurry moved her units up the field.

“Stop right there,” Phantasma said. “That’s as far as they go!”

“What are you talking about? They have almost six inches more movement!”

“Have you already forgotten the marker I placed down at the end of my deployment phase? You might have been able to fight through my front lines, but now you’ve activated my trap!”

“What?! A trap?!” Flurry gasped. “Daddy, she’s breaking the rules!”

Shining Armor shook his head. “You should have asked to see her army list before the game, Flurry.”

Phantasma nodded. “Like you said, the Monolith was my only high-value unit on the field. Didn’t you think it was odd that despite spending the same number of points as you, who could afford two squads of the most expensive infantry units in the game along with something like the Knight Golem, that I’d only have a few blocks of light infantry? True, they are tenacious, but they’re also extremely inexpensive.”

“So what did you spend the points on?” Flurry asked.

“Behold, as it emerges from the shadows! A shard of the Nightbringer!” Phantasma removed the marker, and in its place came down a terrifying being, a jet-black alicorn depicted as if its ghostly form was lit from within, wings stretching almost as tall as the Knight Golem that was now too far away to help the Ultramares that had wandered right into it.

“Impossible!” Flurry Heart reared back as if struck.

“The Nightbringer is one of the most powerful units the Tomb Princesses can field, but it can’t be deployed normally,” Phantasma said. “I had to wait for you to come to me. And since you activated her Deep Strike ability, your units lose their assault phase and have to make a morale check to avoid being routed!”

“My units are fearless! Your morale checks mean nothing! I don’t care how strong your Nightbringer is, it’s still only one unit! And since you yourself pointed out that my Assault Guards are out of melee, they can use their Jump Packs to go right over your block of archers! Even if you tie up Marenus Canter in combat, they’ll be able to go around and attack your War Princess directly next turn!”

“I don’t intend to let it get that far,” Phantasma said. “You’ve activated all of your units, making it my turn!”

“Your last turn!”

“You’re right, Princess, but not for the reason you think! This… is my requiem! The Nightbringer activates her Gaze of Death as a special action! Marenus Canter and the units with her all suffer automatic wounds!”

Flurry pounded a hoof into the table, making the models jump a fraction of an inch. “Marenus Canter is immune to automatic wounds thanks to her Artificer Armor!”

“The rest of her Honor Guard isn’t,” Phantasma said. “And since you spread out the damage from all those archers attacks against them, they were all just hanging on by a single wound, leaving your War Princess all alone!”

Flurry took the models off the table with more force than was needed, tossing them aside. Shining Armor gasped and caught them, barely saving them from having severe paint damage.

“Maybe so, but now that your Nightbringer has attacked--” Flurry started.

“Attacked?” Phantasma asked. “Like I said, the Gaze of Death is a special action. The Nightbringer hasn’t even started attacking!”

Flurry growled. “What?! It can activate a power and attack in the same turn?!”

“That’s right. And unfortunately for you, the Nightbringer’s Entropic Blow ignores invulnerable saves and all effects that can prevent death! She is the avatar of death, Flurry Heart, and she has come for Marenus Canter! Now watch as I finish this duel! Nightbringer, obliterate!”

Phantasma rolled six dice. Flurry Heart leaned over the table, wings straining to balance her as she watched them tumble across the table. “Impossible! No one has ever managed to defeat me! This can’t be happening!”

Flurry Heart looked at the results and cried out in despair, going limp and collapsing.

Luster applauded. “Phantasma, you did it! You won!” she shouted.

Phantasma sighed and turned away from the table. “You challenged me because you refused to listen to reason and decided I was evil just because of the way I looked. Your heart is in the right place, but if you really want to be a good leader you need to respect ponies no matter what they look like, and no matter how strong or weak they might be. You lost today because you wanted to crush me quickly and personally with your War Princess.”

“What dark price will you take from me?” Flurry Heart asked, from where she had collapsed. “Banish me to Tartarus? Take my crown?”

“All I want is an apology,” Phantasma said.

“An… apology? But I was going to have you banished from Equestria!”

“That’s what I want an apology for, yes.”

Shining Armor coughed politely. “Flurry, you heard her terms.”

“Mmph…” Flurry pouted, wiggling her legs. “...’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“A proper apology,” Cadance added. “Otherwise you’ll be banished to your room for a week.”

“I’m an adult! You can’t ground me!”

Cadance raised her eyebrows and looked down at her daughter. Flurry shrank back. “I’m sorry I called you evil and challenged you to a duel and tried to get you banished from Equestria.”

“I accept your apology,” Phantasma said.

“That’s much better,” Cadance said. “So, how about an afternoon snack?”

“I love pizza rolls,” Luster said, popping a tiny pocket of cheese and tomato into her mouth. “They’re nature’s perfect snack!” The castle’s massive dining room table, intended for dozens of guests at once, was perfect for studying. There was an endless amount of space for the books they’d taken from downstairs. The ones that didn’t bite or whisper, anyway. Shining Armor was dealing with those in a much more secure room.

“Be careful not to get any on the books,” Phantasma warned.

“Don’t worry, Twilight yelled at me more than enough about getting crumbs on manuscripts.”

“I’m more worried there could be a curse or something on them,” Phantasma said.

“You shouldn’t even be reading them if they’re cursed,” Flurry Heart said. She was flipping through the Battlemallet army books as if she could spot where she’d gone wrong. “I can’t believe I lost… or that Daddy plays with an army that’s all evil undead.”

“They’re not actually evil,” Luster said. She looked across the table and picked up the Tomb Princess book. “The Tomb Princesses are just normal ponies who got tricked by dark spirits. They were promised health and life, but got trapped in rotting bodies for all eternity. Most of them are looking for ways to reverse their condition, or at least rest in peace. In the lore they’re considered a force for good, opposing the hordes of Chaos and defending their lost homelands.”

“That’s so sad…” Phantasma whispered.

“They’re even misunderstood by most other races in Battlemallet,” Luster said. “So don’t feel bad about being confused. It’s just important not to judge them by how they look.”

“You’re right,” Flurry sighed. “I guess I was just… a little jealous that you made friends with her.”

“You know I can have more than one friend, right?” Luster smiled. “You should come visit me in Ponyville. I’d love to show you around. I even found a monster in the sewers once!”

“Really?” Flurry perked up. “Like, a real monster?”

“An escaped, deadly horror from Tartarus itself! It had death rays and a lair and everything!”

“Well, maybe I’ll check in on you to make sure you’re okay,” Flurry said.

The doors burst open, and Larrikin ran in. They were sprinkled with translucent blue-white berries. “Luster, Luster! Look! I grew a bunch of crystal berry vines and now I don’t freeze in the cold!”

“Do kelpies… work that way?” Luster asked.

“Apparently!” Larrikin said. “Also I feel really weirdly full of energy and I think that’s from all the sugar.”

“And you’re going to crash and fall asleep in a few minutes, if my observation of sugar rushes in the past is correct,” Ibis said, padding along behind them and barely fitting through the large doorways. “I hope everyone else’s research has gone as well as ours.”

“It went very well,” Phantasma said. “After a few minor hiccups.”

Ibis leaned closer and sniffed. “Are those… ancient tomes of lore?”

“We found them in a secret sealed room,” Phantasma confirmed.

“I’d like to hear how you found that,” Ibis said.

“I’ll need some help telling the story,” Phantasma said. “Princess, could you help me? You’re really good at dramatic speeches.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Flurry Heart said. She cleared her throat and stood up. “There I was, in the throne room of the castle, and what did I find? A secret passage, wedged open by darkest sorcery and leading down into an impossible space…”

Chapter 4 - The Stick and Carrot

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Larrikin didn’t believe in ghost stories.

They liked reading them, because there was something comforting about the idea that even if they withered up and kicked the bucket, some part of them would keep going. They were positive, though, that most ghost stories were just made up to scare foals or by overdramatic ponies who thought poor plumbing work and creaky floors meant the dead were rising from their graves.

So when Luster Dawn asked Larrikin to come out to the Everfree and look around for a ghostly, cloaked pony, Larrikin had agreed right away. It sounded interesting, and any chance to spend a little more time with Luster was worth it.

It wasn’t like Larrikin would say they were in love, exactly, but maybe it was a little bit of a crush, and Larrikin was never the kind of kelpie to avoid indulging themselves.

“Now does everypony remember our goal?” Luster Dawn asked.

“We’re looking for that mysterious pony that we saw in the woods two weeks ago,” Phantasma answered.

“Not that we got a good look at her,” Arteria said. “Pony wearin’ a cloak like that has somethin’ to hide.”

“Well, Miss Zecora said that the woods have been disquieted for a while now,” Luster Dawn said. “If things haven’t quieted down, they’re probably still out there. As long as we keep our eyes and ears open, we should be able to find something.”

“I suggest a simple search pattern,” Ibis said. “Instead of searching randomly, we stand in a line several paces apart and advance as a cohort. As long as we stay within visual range, we won’t get lost, and we can search a much larger area in detail.”

“With how big the Everfree is, it’s still going to take a long time,” Luster sighed. “But this is close to where we saw her, so we should be able to find something.”

Larrikin nodded along, but they weren't really listening. Larrikin was looking at the forest itself and thinking. Ponies thought it was a terrifying, nightmare-filled patch of woods that served no master, but that seemed like a really equine-centric point of view to them. It was true that the Everfree had its own weather, didn’t care about what ponies did about the seasons, and, if one is being honest, was full of monsters. But that didn’t mean it was scary. Most of the world wasn’t controlled by weather teams and tended by Earth Ponies, and they got along mostly fine. It was just wild, and Larrikin could respect that the forest didn’t let itself get bossed around by ponies.

A hoof wiggled right in front of their snout, and Larrikin blinked.

“Huh?”

“Are you paying attention?” Luster asked.

“Yeah,” Larrikin said. “I just thought I saw something.”

“You did?!” Luster spun around and stared into the woods, rearing up on her hind legs to see further. “Where?”

“Over there. It was a butterfly.” Larrikin pointed.

Luster sighed. “We’re not here to chase butterflies. We’re here to--”

“To catch a pony who might be evil or something,” Larrikin said. “See? I was listening.”

“Right. Okay.” Luster said. “Just get in line with everypony and we’ll try to keep pace with each other. If we go slowly, we won’t miss any details.”

“Slowly is good for me,” Larrikin yawned.

“You can nap when we’re done,” Luster said. “I’ll even buy you a treat from the cafeteria.”

“Ooh. Bribery.” Larrikin perked up. “I like the sound of that.”

“I thought you might.” Luster smiled. “Come on. We’ve only got a few hours to look before we have to get back.”

Larrikin nodded and smiled. “You smell good.”

“What? I--” Luster blushed. “You smell good too?”

“That’s the crystal berries,” Larrikin said. “Want one?”

“I-- maybe later?”

“Cool. Anyway, let’s go find your mystery pony!”

An hour later, Larrikin wasn’t having nearly as much fun. The thick woods meant they could only see the others half the time, and she was right in the middle of the line. Vaguely, the kelpie was aware it was because they wanted to make sure they didn’t wander off or simply disappear. Being made of plants, Larrikin was naturally camouflaged against the forest.

“Maybe I should have worn a hat,” Larrikin mused. And because they weren’t really looking at where they were going, they didn’t see the hole right in front of them until they fell into it.

If their reaction time had been a little better, Larrikin would have screamed when they fell. However, it had been a tiring day and, to be brutally honest, the crystal berries might have looked really cool but they also took a lot of photosynthesis to grow and a few extra naps were probably called for. With their senses and reactions dulled, Larrikin hit the ground before they could even cry out in alarm.

Not that a fall like that was particularly troubling. A pony would have gotten hurt, but the benefit of being made out of water weeds (and a few assorted ornamental plants for decoration) was that Larrikin was pretty much immune to that kind of harm. They just needed a few minutes to put themselves back together.

“Huh,” Larrikin said. “Guess I found something. A hole! Hey, everyone! I found a hole!” They looked up at where they’d fallen through, but none of their friends appeared, even after a full minute.

They waited another minute just to be sure.

“Darn,” Larrikin sighed. “They’ll eventually figure out I went missing.” The kelpie shrugged and looked around. Their night vision was excellent since they usually slept the day away under the sunlight, enjoying soaking up the free food.

The sinkhole looked like the kind of thing that appeared when a tree died and the roots rotted away, leaving the dirt loose and untethered. It wasn’t a huge space, certainly not really big enough to explore in any meaningful way.

But one wall was certainly a little curious. Twisted, unhealthy roots were wrapped around an oddly-colored hunk of wood. Larrikin got closer, tilting their head.

“Weird. I’ve never seen purple wood before…”

They reached out to touch it, and it felt as if they’d stuck their foreleg into a thundercloud. Everything tingled, and their sap crawled like the seasons were changing. The wood shivered and broke free of the roots entangling it. Larrikin held onto it, looking at it with more curiosity than alarm.

“At last! After all this time I’m free! Time to conquer Equestria!”

Larrikin spun around, and found themselves looking up at a mare. She was floating in the air, grinning in triumph. For a moment, Larrikin couldn’t make out much more than that she had wings, a luminous horn, and glowing eyes. In other words, she looked quite like a princess.

She was, however, rather small for an alicorn. And as Larrikin looked closer, translucent. Larrikin could see right through her if she squinted.

“Who are you?” Larrikin asked.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m Princess Twilight Sparkle,” the mare said, smirking.

“No you aren’t.”

“Uh, yes I am,” the mare said. She was starting to sound annoyed. “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but I was…” She paused. “I was tricked by Discord! He trapped me here, and as my savior, you can help me overthrow the evil, evil duplicate that’s pretending to be me!”

“You don’t even look like her.”

“What?! I look exactly like her!” she spat. “Because I am her!”

“No, Princess Twilight is like, three times taller than you. I met her, you know. She’s also got like, this huge wavy mane. You’re too short to be a Princess.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

“And you’re like, a ghost or something,” Larrikin said. They reached forward and poked the floating alicorn, and their hoof went right through them. “See?”

“I am not a ghost!” the mare snapped. She tried to knock Larrikin’s hoof away, but, of course, she couldn’t even touch the kelpie. “Ugh! I lost my physical form, okay? I just need to get it back, and then I’ll be right on top of things again!”

“You lost your physical form? That’s rough, buddy,” Larrikin said.

“Don’t mock me!”

“I’m not mocking you. But you really don’t look like Twilight. I’m gonna give you a different name.” Larrikin thought for a minute. “Hmm…”

“Darklight?” the mare suggested. “Ghostlight?”

“Nah, those are all edgy and stuff. I know! The real Twilight likes books a lot, and you’re made out of wood, and books are made of wood! I’m gonna call you Princess Booky!”

The ghost shuddered. “That’s an awful name.”

“But you aren’t denying you’re made out of wood,” Larrikin noted.

“I am temporarily made out of wood until I fix things,” Princess Booky corrected.

“Cool. I’m gonna take you with me.”

“Yes, good idea, minion,” Booky nodded. “If you continue following orders, I’ll allow you to be an important part of my new regime.”

“You didn’t order me to take you. It was my idea.”

“Anticipating my orders is an important skill,” Booky said.

“Anyway I’m pretty sure you’re evil,” Larrikin continued. “But that’s okay. Maybe we can still be friends anyway.”

“Friends.” Booky snorted.

“Larrikin? Are you down there?” Phantasma called out.

“Yeah! Friends!” Larrikin said, smiling. “I’m down here!” The kelpie moved to stand right under the hole, looking up. “I fell!”

“I can tell,” Phantasma sighed. “I found them, everypony! We’ll have you out in just a minute, I promise.”

“I found something really cool!” Larrikin yelled.

“You can show us once you’re safe,” Phantasma said. “Luster, can you reach them from here?”

“Yeah, just give me a hoof with the weight,” Luster said, her head appearing over the rim. “Larrikin is really heavy sometimes.”

“It’s just water weight,” Larrikin said.

“That and all the snacks,” Luster said, her horn lighting up. She grabbed Larrikin and started pulling, and a moment later her magical grip was augmented by Phantasma’s, the two lifting the kelpie up and out of the sinkhole. The rest of the group had gathered around to watch.

“Thanks,” Larrikin said, once they were on solid ground again. “You won’t believe what I found!”

“Did you find the pony we were looking for?” Luster asked.

“Better! I found this!” Larrikin held up the purple wood.

The assembled group looked that the wood, then at Larrikin.

“...It’s a stick,” Luster said, breaking the tense silence.

Larrikin pointed at Princess Booky. “And her!”

The others looked at each other instead of the alicorn.

“Did you hit your head?” Phantasma asked. “...Can kelpies hit their heads?”

Ibis frowned and leaned in closer, her eyes fixed on the stick.

“I don’t think anypony’s really studied if kelpies can get concussions,” Luster said. “It’s probably a good idea to go back, though. Once there’s one accident, you usually end up with more.”

“I’m not sure what kind of wood that is,” Ibis noted. “Curious. I think it’s been magically treated…”

“It’s not what we’re looking for,” Luster said dismissively. She walked right through Princess Booky, not even shivering or shuddering like one might expect when walking into a spirit. “We probably need to revise our methods. Or check a different part of the forest.”

“I’ll help you come up with a logical plan,” Ibis said, standing up straight. “I’m certain there’s something we can do to reduce the search area.”

“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”

Larrikin followed the group as they walked out of the forest, confused.

“Why can’t they see you, Princess Booky?”

“First, that’s still not my name. Second, I don’t know! Maybe it’s because you were the one to find me. We could be connected in some way…”

“Oh! Maybe it’s because we’re both plants! I’m a kelpie, and you’re a stick!”

“I’m not a stick, I’m… well, it’s complicated,” Booky said. “You’re not entirely wrong, but you’re mostly wrong and I don’t do partial credit. It’s probably better this way. I’ll be free to pursue my plans until I can get a real body again.”

“What kind of plans?” Larrikin asked.

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” Booky snorted.

“Larrikin, stop talking to yourself and keep up, we don’t want to lose you again!” Luster called out.

“I’m coming!” Larrikin called out, picking up the pace, jamming the stick into their tangled mane to hold it. Princess Booky hovered in place until Larrikin got a few paces away, then was suddenly yanked along like she was on a leash.

“Ack!” Booky cried out, quickly adjusting herself so she was flying alongside Larrikin instead of being pulled along. “Wonderful. My projection can’t go very far at all.” Her horn lit up, and nothing happened. “And I can’t use my magic. The one thing she got right was giving me power, and I can’t use it! I should have struck when she didn’t expect it, and then I wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“She?” Larrikin asked.

“My creator. Queen Chrysalis. I’d say you must have heard of her, but she was a useless wreck the last time I saw her. Instead of striking at her foes when they least expected it, she acted like a coward and wanted a layer of minions between herself and any danger. She’s probably crying in some muddy ditch somewhere - I was the best plan she ever came up with and it still failed!”

“I always hate it when one of my plans fails,” Larrikin said, nodding along. “This one time I was going to get a bran muffin from the cafeteria, but then I took a nap and when I woke up, the cafeteria was closed and I couldn’t get a muffin!”

“That’s…” Princess Booky sighed. “At least my first new minion is only marginally worse than my last ones.”

“Oh, neat! I get to be a minion? Hey everybody, I’m a minion!”

“That’s nice, Larrikin,” Luster said. She leaned closer to Phantasma and whispered. “We should probably take her to the nurse when we get back.”

“It can’t have been that long,” Booky whispered.

“Do you want me to hold up the newspaper again?” Larrikin asked. “Sometimes I have to read something two or three times before I understand it. Especially numbers. Numbers are hard.” They’d gone to the cafeteria mostly because Larrikin wanted a snack and a grumpy alicorn spirit complaining at them wasn’t nearly enough to dissuade a hungry kelpie from peanut butter and jelly scones.

Booky had been mollified when Larrikin picked up a newspaper for her to read and get caught up on current events. The actual news was dull, but the date had come as a shock.

“No, I don’t want--!” Booky took a deep breath, not that she needed it since she didn’t have lungs. “I just didn’t think it was… so many years. Why did it take so long to recover? Chrysalis might have been useless, but we were still bound to her. It should have only taken two or three years to siphon enough power to return! Less if she’d actually get a decent meal instead of living like a hobo in the mud.”

“Oh, right… Queen Chrysalis…” Larrikin rubbed their chin. “She got turned to stone. That’s probably why you couldn’t get any power from her.”

“Of course she did!” Booky huffed, floating in circles. “I should have known. She couldn’t even manage hiding in a ditch.” She started swearing in several languages Larrikin didn’t understand. It was very impressive sounding, though, and Larrikin understood the tone well enough.

After a particularly long string of Germane that translated to something like ‘face like a fish and a smell like a bushel of rotten herring’, Booky finally calmed down.

“Are you okay?” Larrikin asked.

“No! Yes!” Booky groaned. “I need to adjust my plans. I can’t believe I slept for so long…”

“Good thing I found you, huh? Otherwise, you could have been there forever!”

“...I could have been there forever…” Booky whispered.

“I’ve been thinking. I think better while I’m eating.” Larrikin took another bite of scone. “We should go to Princess Twilight. The real one, I mean. She’s a super-genus magic expert, and if you were made out of her, maybe she can figure out a way to help you.”

“No!” Booky snapped. “Do you have any idea what she’d do to me?!”

Larrikin looked down, deep in thought. “...Probably something with spells. I don’t really understand unicorn magic.”

Booky sighed and settled down in a chair across from Larrikin, miming sitting since she couldn’t really interact with it. “She’d destroy me. Trust me, I know, because I think like she does. Or at least the way she should think if she had more ambition. I’d end up tossed into a fireplace or exploded or banished to the moon!”

“She probably wouldn’t banish you to the moon.”

“You’re right. She’d want to make sure I was taken care of permanently.” Booky leaned on the table, and slightly through it, groaning. “I need to avoid her until I can get my body back. Then I can face her fairly!”

“That sounds pretty evil.”

Booky looked up at Larrikin and leveled a flat stare at them. “It’s what I was made to do.”

“We don’t have to be defined by that,” Larrikin said. “Like I was made to…” the kelpie paused. “Maybe I should have used cutie marks as an example. You don’t have to do what your cutie mark is telling you! That’s what Miss Apple Bloom taught us. We can do anything if we try hard enough!”

“My cutie mark is exactly the same as Twilight Sparkle’s.”

“I think that means you’re supposed to be best friends with her.”

Booky slammed her hooves into the table, which would have been more impressive if they’d actually impacted it instead of going right through.

“I am not going to be her friend! I don’t need friends! What I need is information. Something that covers history instead of last week’s buckball games.” She huffed. “Take me to the library.”

“Oh, we can’t go there,” Larrikin said. “Sorry.”

“What? Why?”

“I got banned again. You can’t use sandwiches as bookmarks, even for a little while. It wasn’t in the rules, how was I supposed to know?”

“...You’re lucky I’m not solid or I’d strangle you on principle for doing that!”

“Now you sound more like the real Princess Twilight!”

“Just get me to the library. This is more important than some temporary ban!”

“Okay, but if I get in trouble I’m gonna tell them you made me do it.”

Booky rolled her eyes.

“Turn the page,” Booky mumbled. Larrikin dutifully flipped to the next page, and the spirit hovering over the kelpie’s shoulder read the book with increasing horror.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Because you’re going pale. I didn’t think ghosts could turn all pale and spooked. I always thought that was kind of a body thing for creatures with blood.” Larrikin tilted their head, watching the alicorn’s expression.

“I thought you were lying, or exaggerating, or, or…” Booky whispered. “Princess Twilight Sparkle is ruling Equestria? The Elements of Harmony are gone?”

“Technically, they’re sort of discorperated. It means they don’t have a physical shape anymore. Like you! And kind of like me when I go to sleep! Ibis taught me what that word meant because she wanted me to be accurate about turning into weeds.”

Booky kicked the textbook in frustration. She didn’t connect, naturally, but Larrikin wanted to be supportive so they tossed it aside as if the alicorn spirit had actually managed to knock it away.

“I’m… sorry,” Booky said, eventually. “I should have believed you, clearly. You’re not as stupid as I thought.”

“Aw, that’s okay! I am pretty dumb.”

Booky didn’t try to correct her. “Get the other book. The one on golems.”

“What is a golem, anyway?” Larrikin asked, pulling the book out of the small pile she’d been ordered to bring to the most shadowy, dark, evil corner of the library. Every library had one somewhere, usually somewhere in the stacks where the shelving turned narrow along with the subjects.

“It’s a construct,” Booky explained. “The creator of a golem builds a body out of inanimate materials, then binds them with magic and an animating spirit. Maybe there’s some way I can construct a body.”

“Out of books?”

“Why would I make it out of books?”

Larrikin shrugged. The alicorn spirit rolled her eyes and snorted in frustration.

“Just start turning the pages slowly and stop when I tell you,” Booky said. Larrikin started flipping through the tome. Booky ignored the exploded diagrams of various golem bodies and construction methods, speed-reading and skimming the pages until something finally caught her eye. “There! Stop!”

She ran a hoof down the page, slowing to look at it in more detail.

“This has notes on golem repair, and rebinding a spirit. It could be just what I need.”

“What are you gonna do after you get a body?” Larrikin asked. “I mean, you can’t really overthrow Princess Twilight. She’s super strong and everypony loves her.”

“I’ll figure it out,” Booky mumbled. “One thing at a time. I can’t do anything useful at all if you’re the only creature in all of Equestria that can even see me.”

“You said you used to have other minions, right? Do they miss you?”

Booky snorted. “No way. They were made in the image of Princess Twilight’s friends, but they came out wrong. They were easily manipulated, especially since I happen to be a natural leader, but ultimately they were only out for themselves. They would have eventually betrayed me.”

“That’s sad. If they were Princess Twilight’s friends, they could have been your friends, too.”

“I only kept them around because I could use them,” Booky said. She paused. “Because I could use them. Of course! They were destroyed the same way I was, so they’re probably all still stuck in the Everfree like I was!”

“Aw, that’s sad. All alone in holes somewhere…”

“No, it’s perfect! They were created at the same time I was, in the same way I was! I can absorb whatever power they stored up over the years and use it to recharge myself! Then I can return to life! I should have known they’d eventually end up being useful.”

“But what about them?” Larrikin asked. “What’s it going to do to them?”

“Probably they’ll just stay inert,” Booky shrugged. “Trust me, that’s for the best. They aren’t like me. They’re all little disasters waiting to happen. I’m the only one that had half a brain and enough ambition to do anything with it. I want to rule Equestria. They’d just destroy it.”

“Really?”

Booky shrugged, floating away from the textbook. “They’d destroy parts of it, for sure. None of them could think farther than their own snouts long enough to do more damage than insulting the ponies around them and breaking whatever they couldn’t steal.”

“That doesn’t sound good…”

“It’s not. That’s why you’re lucky you found me! If it had been one of the others, they’d just be trying to hurt you. But not me. You can trust me.”

“Hmm… you keep talking about trying to overthrow Princess Twilight and doing evil stuff… but I do kind of feel sorry for you.” Larrikin rubbed their chin. “Okay! I’ll help you. But how are we gonna find the others?”

Booky smiled. “I was already putting together a tracking spell before I… was temporarily inconvenienced. They almost ruined my plans just by getting themselves lost. The plans were ruined anyway a little later, but the spell should still work.”

“And you can cast it even though you’re a ghost?”

Booky’s horn lit up, and the aura shifted as she focused, a spike forming like a compass needle.

“Neat!”

“Less neat,” Larrikin sighed. “Are you sure we can’t take my friends along? They wanted to go into the Everfree anyway, so…”

“You’re the only one who can see me,” Booky said. “You don’t want your friends thinking you’re crazy, do you? You remember what they were saying the last time they saw you talking to me, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Larrikin admitted. “They thought I should go to the nurse.”

“Because they thought you were acting crazy. I mean, you’re obviously not crazy, you’re just talking to me. But they don’t understand that.”

“I could be crazy.”

“Not until I don’t need you anymore,” Booky said, smiling a little. “You know, it’s funny. I spent almost my whole real life inside this forest, but it still creeps me out a little. It can’t even hurt me! I’m a chunk of magic wood!”

“That must mean the real Twilight didn’t like it either,” Larrikin said.

“Good point! I’ll remember that as one of her weaknesses.” Booky stopped, holding up her hoof. The aura around her horn had split as they’d neared the forest, and one sliver of the tracking magic was lengthening and moving as they walked. “Stop! I can feel something. It’s faint, but I think we’re close. Go that way.”

“That way is off the trail,” Larrikin said, looking the way Booky was pointing.

“If they were on the trail someone would have found them already,” the alicorn said. “And if there are any copies of the Bearers running around, you would have heard about it.”

“There might be a few Pinkie Pies running around…”

“Just keep moving,” Booky said. “Even manifesting like this is a strain. The sooner I can get more energy, the better.”

Larrikin nodded and stepped off the trail, walking into the thick trees and brush of the forest. It only took a few paces before there was a solid wall of greenery between her and the trail. Booky went ahead of her, trying to float up and look ahead.

“I can’t see anything,” Booky said. “Can you?”

The ground crunched under Larrikin’s hoof, and they blinked in surprise, looking down.

“What is it?” Booky asked.

“Can you shine some light down here?” Larrikin asked. “Please?”

“I’m not sure if it’ll even work. I’m a ghost.” Booky’s horn lit up, and pale purple-pink light bloomed around them. It was just about the only thing that was blooming. The scrub and grass under Larrikin’s hooves was brown and dead like it hadn’t seen water or sunlight in a decade. “Maybe I’m not Twilight, but I can still be a Flashlight. Eh? Never mind, I know my sense of humor went right over your head. I’ll explain it to you later.”

“It’s some kind of blight,” Larrikin said.

“No. It’s more like the life was drained out of them. Look.” Booky pointed, and swept the light of her horn forward. The treeline abruptly stopped right ahead of them, turning into a wide clearing like the remnants of a forest fire.

In the center of the creeping death, a twisted, twirling shape erupted from the ground. Larrikin had never seen anything like it before. The mass was studded with holes, ripping out of the turf like a malignant fungus. It was a tree, or two trees, really. They were wrapped up around each other, branches stabbing into each other’s trunks like fangs and claws, the highest reaches, nearly bare of leaves, reared back away from each other like cobras ready to strike. Half of the tree was, under the broken, bleeding bark, a pale blue, and the other half, under the cracked and rotting surface, was orange. Both were so badly damaged by the slow murder of the other that neither could have stood on their own, forced to lean into the other for support.

“Wow,” Larrikin whispered. “It’s like some kind of metaphor.”

“If there’s one thing that Chrysalis was good at, it was dramatic gestures,” Booky said. “They must have ended up right next to each other and started competing for the same resources.”

“It looks painful,” Larrikin said, putting a hoof on the tangled twin tree.

Booky frowned and got closer, examining it from all angles. “...there’s not really anything left of them. They spent everything they had trying to kill each other.”

“That’s so sad…”

“It’s stupid is what it is!” Booky kicked ineffectively at the tree. “Why would they do that?”

Larrikin watched the alicorn spirit attempt to pummel the tree a few more times before giving up. She turned away from the tree, ears folded.

“I’m sorry your friends are gone,” Larrikin said.

“They weren’t my friends,” Booky muttered.

“It’s just that you seem kinda sad about it.”

“That’s because this is an uncomfortable reminder of what could have happened to me if things had been a little different,” Booky said. She wiped at her eyes, facing away from Larrikin, then took a moment to compose herself before turning around. “That’s all it is. Anypony would feel strange after finding a corpse, even if it was one of their enemies.”

“It’s more of a copse than a corpse,” Larrikin said.

Booky just stared at her.

“Sorry, I was trying to lighten the mood.”

“You didn’t do a great job,” Booky grumbled. She floated over to the tree, and her horn lit up. The alicorn concentrated, and two tiny, flickering motes of light floated free of the rotting wood. They converged on her, following along the stream of light and into Booky’s horn. Her magic flashed red, then orange, then went back to its pale shade. The alicorn spirit sighed, glowing a fraction brighter than she had been.

“Is that it?” Larrikin asked, when it was over.

“There really wasn’t anything left. Just a tiny bit of magic left over from their connection to the Elements of Harmony. It wasn’t even theirs, just…” Booky shrugged. “It burned us away, and that was the last ember left over from the fire.”

“That’s really poetic.”

Booky smiled. “I might not be able to beat Princess Twilight at science, but maybe I can manage the arts. Being creative is important in a leader, you know.”

Larrikin nodded. “So where are we going next? If these two landed nearby, maybe some of the others are here too!”

“That’s good thinking, minion!” Booky agreed. “Which way is the Tree of Harmony from here?”

“...The what?”

“I guess it’s still a state secret,” Booky sighed. “Do you know about the Castle of the Twin Sisters?”

“Sure! I put out a fire there once with a bunch of water!” Larrikin smiled. “We found a secret room, and there was a cult, and--”

“Yes, yes. Secret rooms and cults,” Booky said, dismissively. “We’ll head towards the castle. For some reason I’m having trouble pinning two of them down. If we get closer to where we were last together, maybe I’ll have better luck.”

“Sounds good to me,” Larrikin said. “I just wanna get out of here. This place is creepy.”

“Graveyards usually are,” Booky mumbled.

“You’re kidding,” the alicorn said, laughing until she snorted. “And you left him in the hole?”

“It was his hole,” Larrikin shrugged. “He didn’t want to leave. I’m sure Mister Breeze eventually got out. Otherwise Miss Fluttershy would have taken at least half a day off to tell her parents.”

“You know what, just for that, I’m promoting you to Chief Executive Minion,” Booky said. “That’s the kind of decision that gets ponies places in life.”

“Mostly holes,” Larrikin noted. “Like the one I found you in!”

“You’re basically weeds and water, and water naturally flows to the lowest point it can,” Booky decided.

“That makes sense.”

“Of course it does. I was copied from an overeducated pony, after all.” She paused and looked at her horn. “I think we’re getting close to one of the others. We’re lucky we even found the first two. If they hadn’t been literally in the same place we could have wandered for hours! If this ever happens again I’m putting together a better spell.”

“Should we look for another tree?” Larrikin asked, looking around. “Because there are actually a lot of trees.”

“Good question,” Booky said. “It should be… that way!” She pointed.

Larrikin nodded and started trotting.

“Wait, no,” Booky corrected. “That way.” She pointed a different direction.

“I guess it’s easy to get turned around in here, huh?” Larrikin asked, turning around.

“Wait, wait,” the alicorn spirit said, holding up a hoof. The aura around her horn was moving, circling around like it was caught in a whirlpool. “Now it’s a completely different direction… It’s like it’s coming from all around us!”

“I knew we should have tried finding the trail again…”

“Shut up! The trails don’t go where we needed!” Booky bit her lip. “Why can’t I figure this out?”

“There’s something moving in the trees.”

“Moving? They can’t be able to move on their own! There’s no way they’re strong enough for that! There’s no way any of them has more power than me!”

A terrifying howl cut through the air.

“Or it could be a timber wolf,” Booky said. “If I actually had a physical form it wouldn’t stand a chance, but in this particular case, maybe we’ll try your idea.”

“My idea?”

“We’ll go back and find the trail,” Book whispered. “Quietly.”

She turned around and motioned for Larrikin to follow. They managed nearly ten paces before the weeds parted ahead of them and a massive wooden shape stepped forward, eyes glowing baleful green.

“Oh hey, you were right! It’s a timber wolf!” Larrikin said.

“Run!” Booky yelled.

“Why?”

“Because it’s a timber wolf and it’s going to eat us!”

“Nah, it’s like Ibis.” Larrikin smiled and approached the creature. “It’s an, um, what’s the word? Obligate carnivore.”

“Does it know you aren’t made of meat?”

“Hmm…” Larrikin rubber their chin. “I didn’t think about that.”

The timber wolf growled and pounced, reaching out with massive claws of splintering lumber. Larrikin tried to run one way. Booky yelled at them to run the other way. Larrikin’s hooves, knowing just how smart the kelpie they were attached to actually was, disagreed about who they should listen to, half of them trying to go one way and the other half going the other direction. Larrikin ended up just spinning where she stood before falling over.

Booky screamed as the wolf hit her.

And went through without touching anything.

“Oh. Incorporeal.” Booky said, remembering.

The timber wolf hit a tree on the other side of the alicorn spirit hard enough to shake a few terrified squirrels loose. It tried to stand, slipped, and fell onto its side, spitting out a hoof-long fang that had come loose in the impact.

Larrikin stood up and looked around, taking a few extra moments to understand what had happened.

“Looks like the problem took care of itself,” Booky sighed. “My luck isn’t all terrible, just bad.”

“I’m not sure about that. Look at this.” A strange blight was working its way through the timber wolf’s body, eating away at the wood like dry rot and termites. “It’s sick,” Larrikin said unnecessarily. The timber wolf whimpered at Larrikin’s touch, like it was afraid it was going to be struck.

Something giggled behind the kelpie. Larrikin almost jumped, which speaks to just how creepy the giggling was. The kelpie could face down countless terrible monsters, but that soft titter was at a tone that made Larrikin think of lawnmowers and salad bars. In other words, a real horror show.

A pale yellow ghost floated there, Booky backing away from her.

“It’s so sad, isn’t it?” the too-familiar spirit said. “Oh wait, it’s not! It’s pathetic, and that makes it even more fun!”

“You look almost like Miss Fluttershy…” Larrikin said.

The evil twin of the kindest pony in the world snorted and rolled her eyes. “Wow, you sure catch on fast!”

“Thanks!”

“Ugh! I was being sarcastic, you moron!” Evil Fluttershy tried to shove Larrikin and, naturally, failed since she was as corporeal as an imaginary friend. Or imaginary enemy, maybe.

“Be careful,” Booky warned. “She’s a lot stronger than she looks.”

The timber wolf tried to stand and failed, looking at Fluttershy with fear in its eyes.

“Now, now,” Fluttershy whispered. “You can’t get away from me. You should know that by now.” She raised a hoof, and the wooden predator let out a strangled gasp of pain. Larrikin could see the branches that made up its body writhing. She caught a glimpse of yellow, half-rotten wood deep inside.

“She’s inside the timber wolf!” Booky said.

“It’s so easy to torment them like this,” the rotten butter-colored pegasus said, flying over to the fallen beast and settling down on top of it. “A pack of them dug me up, and it took a few tries before I learned how to hurt them without finishing things too quickly. Now, this is the last one left, and I’m going to make it last a long, long time.”

“That’s evil…” Larrikin whispered.

“Maybe a little,” Fluttershy agreed. “It’s just so much fun!” The wolf spasmed, and Fluttershy’s shape became just a tiny bit more solid.

“You need to get her out of there,” Booky said. “She’s drawing power from the timber wolf.”

“I like to think I’m eating it alive,” Fluttershy corrected. “It’s like I’m part of the food chain! The top of the food chain!”

“A parasite like you is at the bottom,” Booky snapped.

“Like it’s any different from what you’re doing!” Fluttershy flew into Booky’s face, smacking the alicorn spirit aside. Larrikin watched in alarm as the purple pony was knocked away.

“You can touch me?” Booky whispered.

“I’m stronger than you,” Fluttershy said. “Because I'm a predator! You just sat there and soaked up what you could like the tree you used to be. Who would want to be a tree?!”

“How do I help it?” Larrikin asked. “It needs a doctor.”

Booky floated closer and looked at the wolf’s side. “She’s burrowed in pretty deep. You have to operate.”

“Operate?!” Larrikin shook their head. “I can’t! Let’s get it to the real Fluttershy. She’ll know what to do. She knows how to heal hurt creatures even better than any vet! Which sort of makes me think she should be paid better.”

“There’s no need for that,” the evil little yellow pegasus said. “I’m not going to let him live that long.” The wolf howled, kicking and struggling. Larrikin could see the vines and moss holding it together strain and swell. It looked like a mole burrowing under the green of a golf course, tearing up everything in its way.

“You can do it,” Booky said.

“Even if I knew what to do, I don’t have a knife!”

Booky looked around and shone her hornlight on the broken fang that had popped out of the monster’s maw. “There. It’s definitely sharp enough.”

Larrikin picked it up, the end still sticky with sap.

“This is a bad idea…” They moved over to the monster’s side, watching something move under its vegetal flesh.

“I can guide you,” Booky said. “If you just follow my instructions, you can cut her loose without hurting the timber wolf. You’d trust Princess Twilight to help you, right? And I’m basically like having her with you! Just without the education or morals, which probably makes me a better doctor.”

“I’m not sure that’s true at all!”

“Just do what I tell you!” Booky tightened her light until it was just a point. “Cut where I show you.”

‘I won’t let you!” Evil Fluttershy slammed into the alicorn spirit, the light going wild just before Larrikin could make contact. “It’s my pet to torment! And when I’m done with it, you’re next!”

“I have no idea why Chrysalis ever thought you’d be able to use one of the Elements!” Booky snarled, kicking the spirit of her insane former ally away. “She made you so wrong you’re completely useless!”

“Princess Booky, help!” Larrikin wailed.

“Just cut her out! She’s not exactly being subtle!” Booky shouted. Fluttershy grabbed her, grappling with her and trying to get her in a stranglehold.

Larrikin made a shallow cut, too slow, the parasite already moving past it before they’d sliced deep enough to reach it.

“Cut where it’s going to be, not where it is!” Booky shouted.

“I’ll cut you!” the doppel-Fluttershy growled, biting the other spirit. It shouldn’t have been a thing she could do, but the magic of friendship meant that no matter how far away you were, you were still together. And able to be bitten. It wasn’t a good friendship lesson.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” Larrikin whispered. The kelpie closed their eyes and hoped for the best. The fang sliced into the timber wolf, and the energy in the air changed.

“No!” Fluttershy screamed.

Larrikin opened their eyes just in time to see the moving sliver of yellow wood fall free from the monster, clattering against the ground with a sound like steel against stone.

Booky managed to use that moment of distraction to put Fluttershy in a winglock. “I’ve got you now!” the alicorn sneered. “Good work, minion!”

“Is the wolf going to be okay?”

“It’ll be fine,” Booky said, even though she had no idea. “Just be careful. She’s still fighting, and--”

The sliver jumped like it was iron seeing the strongest magnet in the world and instantly falling in love. Larrikin tried to grab it, and that was exactly the moment Fluttershy had been waiting for. It plunged into the kelpie’s leg, and a terrible numbness and burning started spreading from where it touched them.

“Get it off!” Larrikin squeaked.

“I’m not finished, not yet!” Fluttershy gasped. “I’ll just eat you instead of that wolf! Maybe when I’m done I’ll go after more of your pony friends!” She started laughing maniacally, even with the alicorn trying to strangle her.

“Don’t you dare hurt my minion!” Booky snapped. Her horn lit up.

“What are you-- no!” Fluttershy screamed. Her outline started to waver and soften like candlewax. “Not again!”

“She’s mine, not yours!” Booky shouted.

Fluttershy dissolved, melting through her hooves, and the sliver of golden wood in Larrikin’s hoof stopped shivering and trying to push deeper into the kelpie’s fronds.

“Cut her loose before she can manifest again!”

Larrikin grabbed the wood with their teeth and yanked, a few loose strands of water weeds and berry vines coming with the parasite. The kelpie tossed it as far as they could with a toss of their head, the stick bouncing off a tree and landing among the tangled roots.

“That really hurt,” Larrikin whined.

“Sorry,” Booky said, actually sounding apologetic. “I shouldn’t have put you in danger like that. You’re my only lifeline to the physical world! If you got seriously injured, I don’t have a backup plan!”

“Is she…?” Larrikin asked.

“Not yet.” Booky narrowed her eyes and focused. “She doesn’t have as much energy as she should after feeding on all those wolves and that nibble she had of your spirit.”

“She must have spent all of her energy trying to hurt other creatures,” Larrikin guessed.

Booky nodded. “A stupid waste. Let’s make sure she can’t spend the rest the same way.”

The alicorn’s horn lit up, and the golden wood shivered and shuddered with resistance. The glow brightened, an unseen struggle obviously occurring between them, and Booky finally tossed her head back like she was yanking a fishing rod. A mote of pink energy floated out, sucked into Booky’s horn. The sliver of wood went inert.

“What do we do with that?” Booky asked, nodding to the rotting yellow stick.

“Don’t touch it,” Booky warned. “The best thing to do would be to seal it in a concrete block and drop that in the river, but we don’t have concrete, and the river is too far away.”

The timber wolf howled behind them, and the two turned to watch it struggle to its feet, hacking up sap before padding close to the evil yellow splinter.

“Wait! Don’t get close!” Larrikin warned.

Thankfully, it seemed to be a very smart wolf. It turned and kicked at the dirt, throwing clumps of wet sod over the yellow stick. With paws as big as shovels, it didn’t take long before it was completely buried under a thick layer of earth.

“It’s not a permanent solution, but that’ll keep random animals from picking her up,” Booky admitted. “Not bad, for a dog.”

Larrikin patted the huge monster on the nose. “He’s a good dog! Can I keep him?”

“Why are you asking me? Oh. Right. I am the one in charge.” Booky smiled. “Do what you want.”

“I’m gonna name you Willow!” Larrikin scratched the wolf behind its ears. The timber wolf licked Larrikin's face in appreciation, tail wagging.

“Isn’t Willow a girl’s name?” Booky asked.

“Willow’s a tree’s name, and he’s a tree!”

Booky was starting to get a headache despite, technically, not having a head.

“We must be near Foggy-Bottom Bog,” Larrikin said. The ground had gotten softer and wetter as they’d gone on. “Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

“Absolutely,” Booky said. “I don’t think she’s moved at all. It’s a detour from the castle, but I should absorb all of my former allies before I go there anyway. Then I’ll be able to wield all the Elements, and my master plan will be complete!”

If Larrikin had paid more attention during their lessons on history instead of spending all their brainpower trying to figure out how to sneak food in without getting caught, they might have been able to remember a few very relevant details that would have saved time and trouble later.

“What is your master plan, anyway?” Larrikin asked. “You never really explained it.”

“It’s too complicated to explain to someone like you,” Booky said, dismissively.

“You don’t have a plan, huh?”

Booky snorted and turned away.

“You know, this bog is supposed to be full of monsters,” Larrikin said, changing the subject. “Think we’ll find any?”

Booky didn’t even turn around. She pointed backwards.

Larrikin followed her hoof back to where the timber wolf was following them like a puppy, tail wagging.

“Willow doesn’t count,” Larrikin said. “He’s a good boy!”

“He’s still a monster. And other monsters can probably smell him and are trying to stay out of his way.”

“That’s too bad. I was kind of hoping we’d see the hydra. It got really badly hurt the other day and I was wondering if it was feeling any better.”

“You are literally the only creature in this entire bog that wants to see a hydra.”

“I just kinda feel bad about tripping it. It was scared and hurt, kinda like Willow.” Larrikin reached over to pet the timber wolf. Willow leaned into it, almost knocking the kelpie over.

“It’s more important to worry about yourself. No one else has to care.” Booky narrowed her eyes. Their progress had slowed to a crawl. “Can’t you go any faster? I didn’t think a bog would slow you down.”

“They usually don’t,” Larrikin yawned. “I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like I’m moving through honey. Except honey would be exciting…”

Larrkin struggled to take another step, the muck and mud clinging to her hooves and just refusing to be shaken free.

Willow whined. Larrikin looked back at the timber wolf. It was suffering even worse than they were -- it was almost like the bog was trying to drag it down.

“We need to find dry ground,” Booky said. “If the terrain is this bad it might be faster to go around and find a better route.”

“That sounds like too much work,” Larrikin groaned. “We’ve been walking all night…”

“You have. I’ve been carried around at your mercy,” Booky reminded her. “I’d love it if I could walk around all night, but I don’t have legs!” She waved a hoof through Larrikin.

Larrikin blinked. “I think I felt that!”

“...Really?” Booky asked. She looked down at her own hooves. “Maybe I really am getting more powerful!”

“That’s great,” Larrikin said, yawning again. “Are you tired? I’m pretty tired.”

“No napping until we’re done,” Booky said.

Willow yipped and tried to howl, but it, too, turned into a yawn.

“What’s wrong with you two? We’re so close, and then we’ll be nearly done!”

“Close to being nearly done?” Larrikin groaned. “That’s like a million miles away! What if we just stay here and relax.” They slowed to a stop and collapsed onto some soft moss, laying down and yawning again. Willow did the same, pulling himself out of the muck and finding somewhere mostly dry to lie down.

“What are you doing?” Booky hissed.

“It’ll be fine,” Larrikin said, closing their eyes.

“It’s not fine! What if that hydra shows up? Or something worse?! There could be a monster right over there!” Booky pointed in a random direction.

“Nah, that’s just a regular crocodile,” Larrikin said, opening their eyes just long enough to look.

Booky followed their gaze to see what she was actually pointing at. Indeed, there was a crocodile lying there, fast asleep, halfway buried in the bog. There was a raccoon next to it, and birds next to them, and more animals almost everywhere Booky looked, like they’d all decided this was a wonderful napping spot.

“This isn’t natural,” Booky whispered.

“No, you’re not natural,” said a tired voice. “Can’t you just be quiet and let me sleep?”

A pale pink form raised its head out of the mud, looking at Booky with profound exhaustion.

“You!” the alicorn spirit hissed. “You’re doing this!”

“I’m not doing anything,” the pink menace said. “Doing things is too hard. It’s better if we just don’t do anything at all…”

Booky floated back to Larrikin, trying to get their attention. “Get up! She’s right there! She won’t even fight back!”

Larrikin made a sound more like a snore than a complaint.

Booky’s eye twitched.

“See? She knows it’s better to just get a nap…” the pink menace groaned.

“It’s not better!” Booky snapped. “I have ambitions! Needs! And they don’t include staying in this stupid bog!”

“Do you even have a plan?” the shadow of Pinkie asked.

“I… I’m improvising,” Booky said. “It’s something I can do even better than the real Princess Twilight. Right, minion?”

Larrikin mumbled something that wasn’t quite words.

“You’re doing a ton of work,” Pinkie said. “And for what? You might end up getting nowhere. It’s better to just decide to go nowhere, and then your plan is a success right away.”

“I refuse! I am destined to be great!”

“Why? It’s not what your cutie mark is telling you,” the pink spirit said. “You just have a cheap copy of Twilight Sparkle’s mark. It’s not even real, is it?”

“I’m destined to be great because I decided to be great! I don’t need a mark or a sign in the stars or anything except my own will!”

Booky grabbed Larrikin, trying to get a hold on her with ghostly limbs.

“Come on!” Booky shouted. She instinctively tried to grab them with magic, and the purple sliver of wood in Larrikin’s mane was surrounded by a pale pink aura, dragging the kelpie’s head up.

“Ow!” Larrikin winced.

“Wake up! Don’t you want to see your friends again?” Booky shouted. “You’re a predator, not a potted plant!”

Larrikin blinked. “My friends?”

“I know you’ve got them! If they mean anything to you, you have to stand up!”

Larrikin struggled against what felt like the whole world on their shoulders, like they’d run a marathon, like the air was too thin to breathe. It was a profound exhaustion, a mental and physical fog that hung on them like a cloak.

“Why are you bothering?” the pink spirit asked, frowning. “Don’t you want a nap? Just to lay down for a while?”

“I can’t stay here,” Larrikin said. “She’s right. My friends would be sad, and I’d miss them.”

“What’s the point of friends?” the pink spirit sighed. “They don’t last forever. Nothing does. If it can’t last, why not just give up on it?”

“Friendship can last forever.” Larrikin struggled forward, shrugging off a layer of bog muck and climbing weeds. “And even if it doesn’t, it’s still worth it.”

“That’s it!” Booky shouted. “Grab her!”

Larrikin lunged for the spot where the pink spirit had emerged from the mud, breaking free of the last strands of slime and invasive roots that had been clinging to their hooves. The kelpie felt it under the mud, vibrating like a tuning fork, and pulled it free, a pink fragment of wood that felt heavier than it looked, like it had some magical inertia.

Larrikin braced for the pain. Some kind of attack. It didn’t come. They opened their eyes. The pink spirit was in their hooves, Larrikin holding her by the neck. The shadow hung there limply, looking at Larrikin.

“She’s not fighting back,” Larrikin said.

“What’s the point?” Pinkie asked. “Fighting back just seems like a waste of effort…”

“It seems kinda mean to do this when she isn’t really trying to hurt us.”

“Look around,” Booky said. “There are hundreds of creatures that gave up, and they’re rotting in the mud. She took away what they needed to keep going. They decided to just lay down and die, because they got caught by this… this stick in the mud!”

“It’s easier, isn’t it?” Pinkie asked. “Easier than living. No expectations, no disappointments… you just lie down and go to sleep and never wake up…”

“I don’t want to hear those horseapples when I’m fighting my way back to life!” Booky snapped.

Pinkie sighed. “I don’t care what you do. Just let me go back to sleep…”

Booky closed her eyes, her horn lighting up. Streams of blue energy streamed out of the pink wood, running up Larrikin’s hoof and into her mane before sinking into the purple wood. The spirit in Larrikin’s hooves faded and flickered, finally going out when a pink spark was torn free of the stick. Booky sucked it up, becoming so solid she looked practically real in the dim light.

“Just… let… me… sleep…” the pink spirit whispered, invisibly. The shard of wood vibrated one last time before going still.

“That was…” Larrikin started, obviously torn.

“Check on the dog,” Booky said.

“Oh, right!” Larrikin gasped, running back to the timber wolf. “Willow? Are you okay?”

The predator raised his head, blinking and yawning. A few of the other animals did, but most stayed still. Larrikin hugged the wolf’s neck.

“I’m sorry. I was just so tired, and you almost ended up as a pile of mulch!”

“I’m… glad you’re both okay,” Booky said. “It would be a lot harder to get things done without you.”

“You can just admit you like me,” Larrikin said.

“Don’t be silly,” Booky huffed, turning away. “There’s only one left out there, but she’s probably the least dangerous. We’ll be done in no time.”

“I don’t think anyone’s been here in a long time,” Larrikin said, as they carefully trotted down the stone steps. Willow had some trouble with them, since the steps were smaller than his paws and he’d never had to actually navigate stairs at all before.

“Of course not, it’s one of Equestria’s top secrets,” Booky said smugly, floating alongside. “I found out because I’m a genius, of course. This was the last place all of us were together, so it’s the best place to start looking. If that annoying, greedy mule isn’t here, we’ll just expand our search outward.”

“Okay,” Larrikin said.

“You should be more excited! Very few creatures have ever been here, you know.”

“I mean, I’ve walked past here,” Larrikin said. They stopped to look up. “Mostly to go to the castle up there. It’s pretty neat. There’s an old library and secret chambers and a treehouse and everything!”

“Once I have a body, you can show me,” Booky said. “It might be a good place to use as a lair.”

“Yeah, there was a cult that was doing that,” Larrikin nodded. “They burned a bunch of stuff to hide what they were doing.”

“Smart,” Booky said. “Leave nothing behind for your enemy.” She pointed. “Go into that cave, but keep your distance from the tree inside. It reacted violently to me before, and I want to run some tests before I get that close again.”

“Sure,” Larrikin said, walking into the cave.

“Let me introduce you to the most powerful--” Booky started, trailing off when she got a good look at what was inside the cave. “What the buck?! Where’s the Tree of Harmony?! Where are the Elements?!”

“Are they supposed to be here?” Larrikin asked. “I thought the Elements were sort of an abstract virtue thing.”

“No, they’re big gems full of endless magical power!” Booky snapped. “And they’re supposed to be here!” She floated as far as she could from Larrikin. “All there is… is a bunch of junk!” The floor of the cave where the Tree had been was littered with oddly-shaped sticks, trash, piles of rocks, a haphazard array of camping gear that clearly wasn’t being used as much as it was just piled up, and stray bits in stacks and small piles. It looked very much like the hoard of a dragon who had absolutely no eye for quality, only quantity.

Willow barked in alarm. Larrikin and Booky turned.

“Is someone here to try and steal my treasures?” hissed a voice from the mouth of the cave. A white pony stood there, glaring at the intruders.

“Looks like I was right, she didn’t go far,” Booky said.

“That’s the trouble with having so much to protect,” the white pony said. “If I go too far, for too long, anypony could come down here and try to take what belongs to me.”

She stalked forward, looking very much like a normal pony aside from the way light glinted from her coat, like she was studded with rhinestones.

“What, this junk?” Booky asked. “Who would want to steal it? Why do you even want it?”

“I want it all,” the faux Rarity said, tossing her mane proudly. “I want bits. I want gems. I want sticks that catch my eye. I want bottles of wine. I want books. I want sleeping bags. Blankets. Lanterns. Matches. I want everything!”

“See what I said about them being loopy?” Booky whispered.

“If someone wants something, it means it has value,” the white pony said. “And everyone wants something.”

She trotted up to Larrikin and smirked.

“Give me that ugly purple stick in your mane,” she commanded. “It’s mine!”

Booky scoffed. “What are you going to do about it?” She waved a hoof through Larrikin. “We’re not even solid!”

Fauxrity smiled. “Darling. Just because you didn’t want it enough doesn’t mean we’re all that useless.” She reached out and grabbed Larrikin with a very solid hoof. “Give her to me! Now!”

“She’s solid!” Larrikin squealed.

“Rock-solid,” Fauxrity said. A ripple passed over her, and for a moment, Larrikin could see what was underneath. The glit and glimmer she’d seen was crystal, like a gemstone statue in the shape of a pony. The only part that wasn’t stone was her horn, a sliver of slim white wood carefully polished and maintained.

“How?!” Booky gasped.

“Once the Tree was destroyed, it left shards everywhere,” Fauxrity said. “I don’t know where most of them went, but there was enough left over to make this beautiful body.” She tossed her ethereal mane.

Willow howled and charged, catching the greedy pony up in its jaws and snapping down with the force of a bear trap. Broken splinters rained down, and Willow dropped Fauxrity, backing away in pain, its wooden fangs shattered.

“Please,” Fauxrity scoffed. “I’m as hard as diamond. Something like that would never work.” Her horn lit up with blue ghostlight and the illusion of her coat and mane vanished as she poured her magical power into a blast that threw Willow against a wall hard enough to shatter oak. The timber wolf fell in a limp pile of timber, sap leaking out in a puddle.

“No!” Larrikin gasped, running for Willow.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Fauxrity asked. She grabbed the kelpie as they tried to get past her, yanking at her mane and tearing out a few strands along with Booky.

Larrikin yelped in pain. “Let me go! He’s hurt!”

“He’s broken, darling. Don’t worry, I’ll keep anything interesting as a momento. Maybe I’ll mount his head on the wall! That would be lovely decor, wouldn’t it?” Fauxrity tittered. “I can put it alongside my sister, once I’ve absorbed her power.”

“Let my minion go!” Booky snapped. Absorbing what had been left of Pinkie’s copy had given her more than a little power, and she focused all of it at Fauxrity’s hoof, managing to surprise her with a burst of unexpected force that sent Booky’s wooden shard flying and break her grip on Larrikin.

“Oh! That nearly hurt!” Fauxrity gasped. She checked her hoof for imperfections. “Thank goodness. Not a mark. I’d be simply traumatized if you’d damaged me. I’m the most precious thing in my collection, you know.”

Larrikin backed away from the crystal unicorn, not sure what to do. Out of ideas, the kelpie spat a stream of brackish water at her, as hard as they could.

“Darling, you must be joking! You think getting damp is going to do more than annoy me?” Her appearance flickered, showing the gemstone golem inside the image of Rarity. “I don’t even have a mane for you to ruin!”

She advanced on the kelpie, grinning.

“It’s too bad. I’d keep you as a pet, but you don’t seem like you’d take to obedience training.”

A wooden hoof tapped Fauxrity on the shoulder. “Hey.”

“Yes?” Fauxrity turned to look.

A wooden alicorn with a purple spire sticking out of its driftwood head where a horn should have been stood behind her. Without even a tiny bit of hesitation, she punched the crystal unicorn in the snout.

If it had been an actual alicorn, punching an actual unicorn, it would have ended very badly for the unicorn. But in this case, the alicorn was made out of sticks and the unicorn was polished and cut diamond.

The alicorn’s hoof splintered, and she winced and backed away.

“Booky?” Larrikin gasped.

“I salvaged what I could from Willow,” Booky said. “He’s in here too.”

“How annoying,” Fauxrity said. She made a show of wiping off her cheek. “You nearly scratched me! Nearly.”

“You hurt my minion,” Booky said. “Wanting to steal my power is one thing, but I can’t let you get away with that.”

Fauxrity grinned. “Positively greedy of you, darling! Not wanting anypony else to touch your things!”

Booky scoffed and her horn erupted with light, linking her to Fauxrity. The crystal unicorn gasped in alarm and started pushing back, her pale blue aura battling against Booky’s.

“I can feel your lust for power,” Fauxrity hissed. “How much you want it! I could practically fall in love with that kind of ambition! It’s simply too bad there aren’t two worlds to rule!”

“If there were, you’d want both of them!” Booky retorted.

Fauxrity laughed loudly and took a step forward, forcing her magic closer to Booky. “You’re right! I want it all! If there are more worlds out there, I’d want them, too! The sun, the moon, the stars, all of it should be mine!”

Booky’s gaze flickered behind her opponent. “There’s one thing you’ll never have!”

“What’s that?” Fauxrity asked.

“The magic of friendship!” Larrikin yelled. They tackled the crystal unicorn from behind. It wasn’t enough to hurt her, not nearly, but it knocked her off-balance. Fauxrity squealed in alarm and her magic flickered as she tried to catch herself. That moment was enough.

Booky got a grip on her, and tore the stick from its home in the crystal golem.

“No!” Fauxrity screamed, as her illusion vanished, the crystal stiffening into a statue and slowly falling over.

“You’re too greedy to trust anypony else to help,” Booky said. She tore the magic from the surprised Fauxrity, the unicorn’s voice dropping to a whisper before vanishing, a spark of purple light disappearing into Booky’s horn.

The alicorn spirit took a deep breath, not that they really had lungs, and a wave of magic swept over her, the wooden body instantly vanishing behind her appearance as a purple alicorn.

“That was rough. Thanks.” She offered Larrikin a hoof from where the kelpie had fallen after tackling Fauxrity.

“What are friends for?” Larrikin asked, happily. “Is Willow…?”

“Like I said, he’s in here,” Booky said. “I can feel him. I’m sure he can hear you. I can practically feel my tail wagging.” She looked back. “See? It is wagging! I’m not the one doing that.”

Larrkin smiled. “That’s good. I was really worried.”

“Well, minion, it looks like this didn’t pan out,” Booky said. “Elements of Harmony aren’t here, so there’s nothing I can do to gain ultimate cosmic power and overthrow the order of all things tonight. I did get a body though, so… that’s progress.”

“That means everyone at school will be able to see you now!” Larrikin said, excited. “I can introduce you around! They’re great creatures. You’ll love being friends with them.”

“I’m not going to make friends,” Booky said, firmly. “But… I suppose I don’t have anywhere else to go for the moment. And the school had a library and resources, so it could prove useful. At least the Tree isn’t around to blast me back to oblivion.”

“Does that mean you’ll come back with me?”

Booky shrugged. “For lack of a better option, yes. But we’re not friends! You’re my minion!”

“Okay, boss!” Larrikin said, saluting.

Booky nodded firmly. “Now let’s get going. I want to stretch my legs. I haven’t had a decent walk in decades!”

Chapter 5 - The Sphinx, the Warlock, and the Treehouse

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My name is Ibis, and I recount the following in the hope that it may prove useful to anyone else who seeks the deeper mysteries of the world. I believe I have seen further than any other mortal, and I write this in some fevered haste as I attempt to grapple the truth behind what I saw. I warn the reader that though I will attempt to be a reliable narrator of my own journey, the nature of my odyssey is such that I cannot be sure exactly how much of what I saw was true perception and how much was the work of a spirit no less chaotic than it is powerful.

It began midway through the school year. I was aware that Miss Fluttershy was away on a trip, though the nature of it eluded me. Most of Princess Twilight’s friends, the former Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, had canceled their classes and appointed substitutes. For the last two days, Miss Treehugger had been teaching… something. Anyone who has taken one of her classes will be familiar with the style of substitute teaching I mean, where it amounts to little more than a free period.

My classmates were surprised when we walked through the door and were transported to an open field under an orange sky.

“Welcome!” Discord called out, appearing in a burst of confetti that vanished before it hit the ground. “Look at those wonderful faces all ready to learn! And lucky you, you get to learn from me!”

“Neat!” Larrikin said.

“That’s a good attitude,” Discord said. “You get a gold star!” He reached up and plucked one from the sky, placing it on Larrikin’s chest. The words ‘Best Houseplant In Class’ appeared on it.

“So you’re the substitute today?” Luster asked, sounding exhausted. She hadn’t been sleeping well. There was a mystery afoot, and she was struggling to get a grip on it. I sympathized, but unlike her, I was content to wait for information rather than constantly seeking it out under every stone and around every corner.

“That’s right,” Discord said. “I was getting dreadfully bored, and I said to myself ‘Discord, you’re such a good, helpful friend, you should find a way to help out at the school and shape all those mushy young minds into something that doesn’t sit at a desk and scribble out math problems all day!’” A second Discord appeared as he spoke so he could make a point of literally telling himself, as was the norm with his sense of humor.

“Now he will turn the field into some kind of game board,” I mumbled under my breath. I saw Arteria’s ear twitch. A moment later, the ground shifted to a checkerboard pattern littered with a few squares of odd colors, a dozen or so snakes, and half as many ladders.

“Oy, that was a shockin’ good call,” Arteria said. “How’d you know he was gonna pull that down?”

“It was the natural next step,” I said. If I’d had a checklist with me, I’d have checked it off. “Now we’ll have a costume change.”

Just as I finished saying it, elaborate costumes appeared on all of us, a mix of playing cards and chess pieces. I looked down at myself. I appeared to be the Red Queen, since my costume had both hearts and diamonds. At least Discord thought well enough of me to make me a high-value piece.

“This is going to be delightful!” Discord crowed. “Of course, a game has to have stakes, and an opponent, so first…” He snapped a talon, and what I assumed were supposed to be evil duplicates of ourselves appeared opposite us on the game board.

I am not ashamed to admit that I looked rather good dressed all in black and with extra eyeliner. I nodded in approval.

“Next he’ll tell us that he wants to see if friendship and harmony can win in a game that demands sacrifice,” I said, just a little too loudly.

“We’re going to see if your friendship and harmony can win in a game where you have to sacrifice--” he stopped. “Okay, okay, I heard that! Which one of you was reading ahead?”

I raised a paw.

“You think you’re clever, huh?” Discord asked.

“Yes,” I agreed.

“Well if you’re so smart, tell the whole class the rules of my little game. If you’re correct, I’ll even give you a special prize!” He smiled evilly.

I sighed. If I accurately described his plans, he was going to reward us by making his game harder in some way. If I was wrong, he’d punish me alone, but would leave my friends to their own devices. For me, it was a no-win scenario, or at least it appeared to be at first, and both he and I knew it.

The logical step would be to take the fall, such as it was, and allow my friends to continue without me. They would be at something of a disadvantage, but giving Discord an early ‘win’ would mean he would likely be more lenient later when he started getting bored.

However, that would mean being deliberately wrong. It went against my ethics to be challenged with a riddle and say the wrong thing on purpose. If friendship had taught me anything, it was that ethics had to trump cold logic.

“It’s going to start with chess, but every turn you’ll make more and more elaborate rulings,” I said. “I expect that you’ll begin by having your pieces move along the snakes in addition to their normal movement, while we can only use the ladders - which in this case only go up and don’t give us any advantage. You’ll engineer a situation to force one of us - probably Luster Dawn since she’s Princess Twilight’s student - to choose whom to sacrifice so she can get an opportunity to put the opponent in check. That will repeat one or two more times and then when you’re bored toying with us, you’ll pretend Luster Dawn found some combination of your arbitrary rules that gives her an advantage and allow her to win so you can end the class and move on to something more interesting.”

Discord stared at me for a few seconds.

“You are such a spoil-sport!” he huffed, after he’d recovered. “I was going to teach her a valuable lesson about how being ruthless could backfire when you run out of other ponies to use! Now I’m going to have to scrap everything!”

He snapped his talons, and my friends vanished.

“For the record, my lesson plan was approved by Princess Star-Butt herself,” Discord said, once we were alone. He waved a talon, and the evil duplicates he’d made blew away like ashes in the wind. He sighed. “It could have been fun!”

I shrugged.

“How did you even know what I was going to do?” Discord asked.

“You have habits,” I explained. “While minor variations might occur, statistically it’s quite easy to calculate the broad strokes, and then to add more detail to the prediction as more data becomes available. The same is true of most creatures. You’re simply predictable.”

“I. Am not. Predictable!” Discord snapped. The sky rumbled, the heavens wavering like the clouds and stars were set in firm jelly. I might have misstepped. I didn’t know he would react this way when challenged.

“I apologize if I offended you,” I said.

Discord glared at me for a few long seconds, the sky darkening further. “It’s about respect,” he said. “You don’t respect chaos. Statistics! Predictions! Habits!” He shook his head. “Here I am trying to be nice, and all it does is make you soft. You don’t know what real chaos is like, and that’s all my fault.”

He sighed, and the sky brightened, rays reaching down from somewhere up above as the heavens churned, breaking apart like the sky was painted on the underside of a massive cloud formation from horizon to horizon.

“Ponies used to consider chaos terrifying, because I wasn’t always so nice. It took me a long time to learn just how careful I had to be not to break my toys, and they remembered what it was like before I started playing nice. Even Princess Twilight and her friends didn’t get to see that.”

I watched him carefully as he paced, standing on nothing and thinking deeply. A lightbulb appeared next to his head and he smiled. I did not like the way it stretched halfway down his neck.

“I just had a brilliant idea!” he said. “In fact-” he unscrewed the lightbulb from the air and pulled a much larger one out of a pocket in his leg, screwing it in place and tapping it until it lit up with a blinding light. “-it’s the best idea I’ve had all day!”

He appeared in front of my face while I was dazzled and tapped me on the forehead.

I’d love to say some kind of cosmic awareness started flowing into me, or that I was filled with a sensation of ultimate and terrible power, but instead it just felt like my whole body needed to sneeze, and when I did, it came out as a spray of integers and loose papers.

Discord picked up a page, wiping stray numbers off of it to look.

“Dictionary pages?” he asked. “That’s an interesting reaction.” A white coat appeared, and he pulled it on. “Do you remember what the word ‘Polka’ means?”

“That’s not a word,” I said.

“Let’s just stuff these back in,” Discord said, gathering up most of the pages. A few blew away before he could nab them, but he shrugged indifferently before reaching up to my ear and stuffing them back into my head.

“Oh. That’s what a polka is,” I said, as I suddenly remembered.

“Losing a few marbles is a common side effect of suddenly getting vast and terrible chaotic power,” Discord said. “Contact a physician immediately if any other symptoms appear like growing new limbs, a sudden change of gender, or explosive blinking.”

“Explosive blinking?”

“You could put an eye out that way!” Discord warned.

“And what do you mean ‘vast and terrible chaotic power?’”

He smiled in a way I did not like. “You’ll find out.”

Everything vanished in a flash of light.

“Ibis? Are you okay?”

I blinked, trying to clear my vision. The flash had been brighter than usual. It took a few moments to spot the small pink shape trying to get my attention. Luster Dawn was looking up at me with obvious worry.

“I’m fine,” I assured her. As the spots in my vision faded, I could see we were in the lecture hall. Discord was absent, and Luster Dawn and Phantasma were the only other ones in the room.

“You didn’t come back at the same time as the rest of us, so I was worried Discord might have done something to you,” Phantasma said.

“Yes,” I said. I checked my limbs to make sure he hadn’t transformed me in some subtle way, but I counted four paws, two wings, and no extra scales or hooves. If nothing else, I was still myself. “I suppose whatever he was trying to do didn’t take.”

“Didn’t take?” Luster Dawn asked, still worried.

“It’s nothing to concern yourself over,” I assured her. “I’ll inform you if something does happen.”

“If you say so,” she said. “Just remember Fluttershy isn’t in town. If he really is up to something, we don’t have much of a safety net.”

“Maybe we should tell Principal Starlight to send her a message, just in case,” Phantasma suggested.

“Discord is relatively harmless,” I said. “I suspect he’ll attempt to prank me a few times until he gets bored of it. It might be best if you stay out of the way until then.”

“If you say so,” Phantasma said.

Luster nodded. “Just don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

“At worst I can admit defeat to him and allow him to gloat for a day,” I said.

“It might be a good idea to do that as soon as he pranks you,” Luster whispered. “Just to get it over with before he can do anything really over the top.”

“That is an excellent suggestion,” I said. “Conceding over a minor prank would allow him to save face.”

Luster nodded and smiled. Her idea was sound. It would minimize collateral damage. I just had to wait for Discord to spring his trap. Unfortunately, he’d already done so and I didn’t even realize it yet.

After class, we were free to do what we wanted. Normally I would spend the time watching ponies, reading books, or trying to find a riddle to finally stump Luster Dawn -- she was proving frustratingly difficult to defeat -- but instead I found myself walking through the Everfree forest, trying to find a pony who we’d once seen for a few moments.

To be honest, I wasn’t sure the pony existed. Yes, I’d seen it, but this was the Everfree, and it was worth considering other options. I recounted them as I walked slowly, keeping pace with the others as we swept through the brush looking for clues.

First, it could have been a member of the Royal Guard. We hadn’t seen armor, but we hadn’t seen much of anything. Luster Dawn was the Princess’ personal student, and it wouldn’t be unthinkable that there would be an official detachment keeping an eye on her. The fact a barricade had been placed just to keep her away was evidence that she was kept well in mind for special treatment.

Second, it could have been an innocent bystander whom we simply scared away. Luster Dawn had assured us they’d been a powerful caster, but I had only her word for that. I believed that she believed that, but it didn’t mean she was objectively correct. Even if she was, it wasn’t a crime to be a powerful spellcaster.

Third, and I considered this the least likely, they could have been involved in the admittedly strange behavior Luster Dawn had uncovered from members of the royal family and their friends. I suspected that the strange behavior was less a matter of national security and something closer to a personal embarrassment. There was no end of the possibilities there, and I had no data to even begin to form a hypothesis. Even so, going purely by statistics, it probably had something to do with romance. Ponies were hopeless about love and always acted illogically because of it.

I had plenty of time to think, as the search was relatively slow. It would be difficult enough to search an open field at night, and the Everfree was infinitely less friendly. The moon provided what light it could through the canopy overhead, but the crisscrossing shadows meant much of the search area was nearly pitch black. Our only real source of light was from Luster Dawn’s magic. It was hardly a problem for half of us, but I feel no shame in admitting my night vision was weaker than Arteria’s or Berlioz’s.

I stumbled into a thorn bush, which did little to improve my mood. I snarled at it and cursed it in a language that had been dead for longer than Princess Celestia had been alive.

There was a flash of light, and the bush tore itself up by the roots and started running away from me, making soft weeping sounds.

I blinked in surprise and stepped back, bumping into a tree. There was another flash of light, and it leaned over..

“Sorry there,” it said. “I didn’t see you all the way down there.”

“Discord…” I muttered.

“Where?” the tree asked, straightening up and looking around. “Pretend you didn’t see me, I don’t want to get involved with him!”

It froze up like it had never been speaking or moving at all. I stared at it.

“Hey, Ibis! Do you see Larrikin?” Luster called out. “I lost track of them!”

I looked to my left side, where the kelpie should have been almost within paw’s reach. “No,” I said, annoyed at myself. I should have been keeping an eye on them. I’d gotten more distracted than I’d thought by Discord’s antics. “They probably fell behind.”

Luster sighed. “Great. Okay, let’s head back the way we came. They can’t have gone far.”

I turned around and tried to spot the kelpie. It would be easier if they weren’t almost perfectly camouflaged against a forest. Luster Dawn started yelling for them, and I found myself wishing the sun was up just so I could see a little better.

The light shifted, and I was about to thank Luster for moving her magical light when I realized the source was above me.

The sky was brightening.

I looked up. The moon was still in the same place it had been, but it looked like it was twitching, as if it had seized up against something in its travels. It suddenly jerked forward a few degrees. At the same time, the horizon lit up.

“Sunrise?” Luster asked. “What’s happening?”

“Okay, Discord,” I said. “I will admit you win. Moving the sun and moon is too much. I just want to find my friend, I’m worried about them. You can play jokes on me all night, but please don’t get the others involved.”

It should have brought him out of wherever he was hiding. I’d been able to predict him before, why not now?

“He should have been out here like that!” I hissed, snapping my paw the same way he always did.

Something hit my head. I looked up to see pinatas growing from the trees above, swelling up like ripening fruit and cracking open, candy falling down around me.

“What?” I whispered. I snapped my paw again. The candy grew legs and fled away like a swarm of ants.

I stared at my paw in confusion. Was I doing this, somehow? Had I caused the commotion in the sky? I looked up and snapped my paw, hoping it’d fix things somehow. I could feel something that time, like I was trying to force gears to skip in some grand clockwork.

Abruptly, they spun free, and the moon and sun returned to their rightful place. It hadn’t felt like I’d been the one to do it, but I hadn’t felt myself doing any of the things I apparently had been.

“We found Larrikin!” Phantasma yelled, breaking me free of my thoughts. “They’re in a hole!”

I needed help.

I briefly considered going to Luster Dawn, but I could predict her advice. She would, correctly, tell me that she had no solution to my sudden problem and that I needed to talk to an adult. I still could have informed her out of courtesy, but I admit that I felt a certain reluctance to do so. There was an odd, primal fear there that I couldn’t place, like telling her about this problem that was beyond my control was exposing and embarrassing. Perhaps it was just my predatory instinct of wanting to appear strong in front of prey.

But, as I said, the advice I knew she would have given would be the correct advice, even if I was just giving it to myself. I needed to speak to an adult, and given the choices at the school, there was only one real adult that seemed equipped to deal with my current predicament.

“Excuse me, Principal Starlight?” I asked, knocking on the doorframe. There was a shuffling of papers and a lot of motion from inside before she answered.

“Come in!” she said. I pushed the door open, ducking to get through and looking around, expecting to see either Miss Trixie or Mister Sunburst, but she actually seemed alone in her office and I didn’t detect the trace ozone smell of unicorn teleportation.

“I apologize if I came at a bad time,” I said.

“It’s fine,” Starlight said. “I’m just dealing with some… minor paperwork,” she lied. I tilted my head and looked at her desk. She’d moved things around, but I could still get a sense of some of it.

“You have several scrolls with Princess Twilight’s royal seal on them, freshly opened, You’ve also been consulting books on magical artifacts and tomes of spells. Did something happen to the Crystal Heart? I’m given to understand that it was broken once before.”

I knew the Crystal Heart was a stab in the dark, but we’d just been in the Empire and it was the first thing to come to mind. More to the point, an incorrect guess was almost as valuable as a correct one, because it allowed me to see her reaction to the suggestion.

“No, no, it’s nothing important,” Starlight said. “I was just helping Princess Twilight with some minor research. Everything is fine!” She smiled nervously. “So how are you? I don’t see you in my office much.”

“I have a serious issue of a magical nature,” I said, cutting to the chase. “I need assistance from an expert.”

“Well you’ve come to the right place, especially if it’s some kind of mind control,” Starlight said, visibly relaxing. “It’s not mind control, is it? Because that’s technically illegal now even if it’s an accident and there’s a huge amount of paperwork involved because of the consent issues.”

“...No,” I said. “It might be easiest if I demonstrate?”

Starlight nodded. “Go for it.”

I snapped my paw, and one of her books started fluttering around the room like a bird. We watched it fly to the hanging light and perch on it, flapping its covers.

“So it’s that kind of problem,” Starlight said.

“You’ve seen this before?” I asked, hopeful.

“No, never once in my entire life.” Starlight said. She stood up and looked at my paw closely. “It almost looked like Discord’s power…”

“I think he did something to me to teach me a lesson,” I admitted. “I was somewhat rude to him and he didn’t take it well.”

“Yeah, he’s like that sometimes,” Starlight agreed. “Has anything else happened?”

“A number of odd events with plants, similar to what Discord might do,” I said. “And there was something with the sun, but--”

“The sun?!” Starlight asked, suddenly paying twice as much attention to what I was saying. “You’re the one who moved it?”

“I’m not sure,” I said. “Evidence suggests it, but when I tried to fix it, I’m sure it was somepony else who--”

“Were you thinking about Princess Celestia at the time? How much do you know about the cycle of night and day? Like, on a state secrets level? I need you to be honest with me because this is really important!”

I blinked several times, trying to center myself. “Princess Celestia?”

“I’ll take that to mean you haven’t thought about her at all,” Starlight sighed.

“What happened?” I asked. I wasn’t a fool, she was clearly thinking of something specific, and suspected I was at fault.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” Starlight said. Before I could protest, she held up a hoof. “The most important thing right now is getting that chaos magic under control, right? It’s what you came here for, and no matter what else might be going on, it’s something we don’t need as a wild card. It’s bad enough when Discord is deliberately throwing a wrench in the works, the last thing we want is an accident.”

“So what do you suggest?” I asked. “I’ve tried asking him to make it stop. I even admitted he won, and that his prank was too much for me -- all of which is true, if you’re still listening, Discord!”

Starlight and I waited a moment and looked around, waiting for a sign.

“Nevermore,” crowed the book perched above us.

“I don’t think he’s coming,” Starlight said. “Which is sort of weird. Usually he sticks around to see how his pranks play out.”

I sighed. “He’s probably waiting for me to do something publicly humiliating. It’s obvious he’s the one to blame, since this is clearly his magic. One wrong move and I might end up turning one of my friends into a potted plant, and while that might not bother Larrikin, it would be unfortunate for the others.”

“It’s no problem,” Starlight said. “Here’s what we’ll do -- I’ll cast a binding spell on you. It’ll restrict your new magic so you can’t use it, even on accident. I doubt you’re as powerful as Discord, so it should work.”

“That sounds like a temporary measure.”

“It isn’t a permanent fix, but it should prevent any accidents until we can figure something else out. This really couldn’t have happened at a worse time…” She sighed and shook her head. “Which Discord probably knew. I’ll send some letters, but it might take longer than usual to figure out a proper solution.”

“Because of the disaster you are carefully avoiding actually telling me about,” I said.

“I didn’t say anything about a disaster! Now hold still, because this spell might feel a little funny. And don’t distract me by talking about disasters that might not even exist and aren’t something you should worry about.”

I hiccuped.

I hadn’t been able to stop ever since Starlight had cast the spell. It wasn’t even regular. Sometimes I’d be able to go whole minutes without a single hiccup and I’d think it was finally over, and then they’d strike back with rapid-fire vengeance.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Luster Dawn whispered, trying not to disrupt the teacher at the head of the room. Mister Doodle was cranky enough when he wasn’t working a sixteen-hour day to cover the night classes. “You’ve been acting a little strange. Larrikin has too, but strange is pretty normal for them so I think I’d be more worried if they were acting perfectly normal.”

“I think it’s something I ate,” I lied. I hadn’t been able to actually eat much at all. Every time I tried my hiccups got so bad I was practically jumping out of my seat. Missing a meal had done little to improve my mood so far.

“Do you want to go see the school nurse?”

I frowned at that. “No. I assure you, I am fine,” I said. “I just need a little--” I hiccuped. “--time.”

“If you say so,” Luster said, obviously not convinced.

I fought the next hiccup down. I had to get control. I was an intelligent being, I was a predator, I was in control. There was nothing I couldn’t handle, not even side effects from one of Principal Starlight’s improvised spells. She’d warned me when I’d left her office that the seal wasn’t very elegant or clean, and I’d probably end up with something odd happening, but I hadn’t counted on it being so annoying and distracting.

It was a bit like Discord in that way.

I couldn’t hold the next one back, and hiccuped again. This time I caught a flash of light at the edge of my vision. I looked down at the floor in horror and saw a fallen pencil slithering away like a snake.

It couldn’t really have been me, could it? It had to be Discord, trying to make me think--

I hiccuped again and this time I felt it. A little burp of chaotic magic welling up inside me like indigestion. There was another soft flash of light, and this time it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oy, is anypony else’s chair meltin’?” Arteria asked, as she slowly sank down to the ground, looking around herself at a woodgrain puddle.

“Oh no,” Phantasma said, getting up to check her own chair. “It’s going to be one of those days…”

“Hey!” our donkey teacher snapped. “You kids stop messing around!”

“I swear on me mum’s winged puddin’ that this ain’t on purpose!” Arteria said. She got up, dripping wood everywhere. The drops landed like marbles, clattering across the floor and rolling everywhere.

“That’s strange,” Luster said, ignoring the teacher’s complaints as she stood up and walked over to look. “Generally you don’t see this kind of behavior in mass-produced furniture.”

I covered my mouth in horror as I felt another surge of chaotic magic welling up inside me. It wasn’t like I was actually shooting beams of energy out of my mouth - though the moment I thought about that it immediately became a primary concern. I couldn’t stop the hiccup, no more than a pony could stop the sun from rising, and I use that comparison directly because if I had an alicorn helping I might have been able to stop what happened next.

The hiccup burst out of me so loudly it echoed. A flash of light surrounded Mister Doodle, and he froze in primal fear.

“What happened?” he asked. “I didn’t turn into a dragon or nothing, did I?”

Luster turned to look and gasped, pointing. “Your mane!”

“My what?” The donkey reached up and touched his head. A full, luxurious mane burst from his scalp as he did, the slow growth Luster had seen exploding into almost a full meter of silky blond.

“At least donkey is not dragon,” Berlioz said.

“Are you kidding? This is the best thing to happen to me since--” before the teacher could even finish tempting fate, I knew the other shoe was on its way down. The rest of his coat changed color and shot out to the same length as his mane, turning him to something like a walking haystack of golden hair. “--never mind. I should have known.”

“Okay, this has to be the work of Discord,” Luster said. “Discord, if you wanted to teach another lesson, we’d all be happy to let you! We like you as a teacher! And I’m sure Ibis will be polite this time!”

She paused, looking around.

When he didn’t appear, she turned to me. “You tell him, Ibis. Maybe he’s still upset.”

“Ah…” I hesitated. I looked around the classroom with her, as if I’d spot him doing what I was well aware was my fault. I hiccuped, and Berlioz disappeared.

“Oy! Where’s the shockin’ doggo gone?” Arteria gasped.

Phantasma trotted over to where he had been, and carefully prodded the air with her hoof.

“Berlioz is still here,” the thin air said, when Phantasma poked him in the stomach.

Arteria frowned and chirped, then tilted her head. “That’s blinkin’ weird. I can hear you fine, but I can’t see you.”

“It’s just invisibility,” Luster sighed. “At least he isn’t intangible or on another plane. Interplanar transport is a hassle. Okay, so, we just need some scissors to help Mister Doodle, and some paint for Berlioz so no one bumps into him.”

“I’ll--” I felt a surge of magic coming. “I’ll go get… paint!” I struggled to hold everything down. I felt like everything inside of me was going to come outside. I bolted out of the room. I needed to get distance from my friends before something worse happened than just invisibility or hair growth!

I turned the corner, saw ponies walking slowly towards me, and went the other way. I couldn't be around any of the students! I was a walking disaster, and the panic was getting even worse than the hot, sickly feeling of the magic starting to bubble up my metaphorical throat. I closed my eyes and ran. I had to get away. I had to get somewhere safe. Somewhere far away--

I felt the magic surge, and I dropped down onto a cold stone floor.

I recognized the crystals around me. I was in the caverns under the castle, somewhere sufficiently shielded that the rapidly-decaying binding spell holding back the chaotic magic inside me could let go and I would be the only victim. I could actually feel the sorcery breaking apart like Starlight had duct-taped a cover on a pressure cooker that was rattling and swelling and starting to rupture.

A hoof touched my shoulder.

It was like a pebble dropped in a calm pond. The swell stopped. The magic broke apart, but instead of an explosion reducing me to a swarm of frogs and cinders, it simply dissolved into nothing. I gasped, and a thin stream of smoke trickled out of my throat.

I looked down at my savior and saw a small, smiling pony. That wasn’t unusual. Ponies smiled a lot, and they were generally little. However, very few of them were alicorns, and even fewer were purple alicorns that looked exactly like a much younger version of Princess Twilight Sparkle.

“Who are you?” I asked. She wasn’t quite transparent, but she gave the impression that she could have been transparent if I looked at her in the right light, and she sparkled like mica or granite, like something just under her coat was catching the light at odd angles.

She tilted her head and winked, and I somehow understood what she was trying to tell me.

“You’re an incarnate manifestation of harmony magic in the same way Discord is a spirit of chaos?” I confirmed.

She nodded.

“And you kept me from exploding with your own harmony magic? Thank you very much.” I sighed. “I apologize if I’m making your life difficult. I assure you, this isn’t my magic, I’ve just unfortunately been gifted it rather against my will--”

She waved and tossed her head.

“Oh, I see. You already knew.”

She nodded and motioned for me to follow her. She was being a polite host despite my condition, and was probably the only being that could keep me from unintentionally causing all sorts of chaos, so I was not in a position to refuse, not that I wanted to. I followed along behind the spirit, who wasn’t quite touching the floor but was pretending to walk, probably for my benefit.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

The spirit of harmony took me into another cave, which was somewhat more nicely appointed than the last one. It reminded me of the inside of the Ponyville Castle, all crystal but purposefully made or grown into shape. Natural crystals rarely took up the shape of, as an easy example, a chaise lounge such as the one I was looking at. When I saw the being laying down on it, I ran over, going right past the spirit.

“Discord!” I snapped. “There you are! I demand you…” my anger cooled when I looked at him. He blinked up at me slowly, his entire body several shades more pale than usual.

“Oh,” he groaned. “You. Finally.”

“What’s going on?” I asked.

Discord struggled and forced himself to sit up, obviously straining with the effort. “What’s going on is that I miscalculated slightly when I was trying to give you a tiny portion of my power as a joke. Oh, thank you.”

The spirit of harmony gave him a cup of tea. A blue blossom was still floating in it, one I recognized immediately.

“Are you drinking poison joke?” I asked, taking a step back.

“It has just a touch of chaotic energy to it,” Discord said. “So far it’s kept me from fading into nothing, so at least I’ve got that going for me.” He broke down coughing, and absolutely nothing punny or strange happened at all, which meant he really was in dire straits.

“Why are you helping him?” I asked the spirit of harmony. “Isn’t he your enemy?”

She motioned a few times, the tiny alicorn miming some things that made complete sense in context but that would be difficult to explain.

“I see,” I said. “So you’re more like… co-workers? And even if you don’t really get along, you still have some amount of respect for each other and you know the world would be worse off without him?”

She nodded, pleased that I understood her.

“Believe it or not, I dearly love Equestria and all you little mortal creatures,” Discord said, wiping his misshapen lips. “You’ve no idea how excited I was when I first found this realm. Of course I did break a few things, and they needed two alicorns just to put the sky back together again, but everyone makes mistakes when they’re young.”

The spirit of harmony nodded, confirming what he said.

“And I can’t enjoy it at all if the world ends! Or if I fade away, but I didn’t think that was likely to happen until I made my teensy-tiny little mistake and broke my connection to the Heart of Chaos entirely.”

“This seems like it should be easy to resolve,” I said. “Please take your power back. What do we need to do? Shake paws? Hug? Sing along during a montage?”

“At least the chaos seems to be improving your sense of humor,” Discord sighed. He forced himself to stand. “I wish it was that easy, but unfortunately, musical montages only seem to fix things when harmony magic is involved, and that’s entirely the wrong sort.”

The spirit shrugged. I understood, of course. It was a big fan of musicals, and the rhythm and structure of a montage just lended itself to harmony magic working sight unseen, which was how she preferred to tend to the world. It explained a little about why ponies seemed to break out into song so often, given their natural connection.

“I do have some excellent news,” Discord said, clapping his talons. “Since there’s no quick fix to our little… issue, you get to help with your favorite activity!”

“Research?” I guessed.

“Hard work!” Discord agreed as if I’d guessed correctly. “If you cause a little chaos in the right spots, it should give me just enough of a boost to undo this mess and take my power back.”

“In the right spots?” I asked, confused.

The spirit of harmony tugged at my wing and held up a scroll. I took it from her and found it to be a to-do list.

“Oh, I see. So even though it’s organized, it’s still organized chaos?” I asked, looking at her. She nodded. “But I can’t control this power, which is the real issue. Like this first item.” I pointed at the list. “How am I even supposed to get to Las Pegasus?”

“For chaos’ sake,” Discord groaned. “Just go there! You’re thinking about the details too much! You just use your power so when you step into the next room, the next room is in Las Pegasus, or at least Reno. The tables there are a little looser if you’re willing to put your knees on the line and count cards.”

The spirit of harmony rolled her eyes and sighed, then patted my paw and nodded reassuringly.

“You’ll come along to help keep it under control?” I asked.

“I suppose between the two of us you should at least be able to manage something,” Discord said. “Now, let’s get this show on the road!”

He paused.

“Neither of you are even going to attempt to apparate sunglasses and aloha shirts?” he asked. “This is why Equestria needs me around. No one else has a sense of timing and style!”

“Now this is your first chaotic deed, so it’s very important you get this right,” Discord whispered.

We were on top of a hotel, looking down at a massive swimming pool. It should have been packed, but instead there were only a few ponies splashing around, and the entire area was strewn with decorations, trash, and ponies talking to each other and drinking.

“It’s a foal’s birthday party,” Discord explained. He pointed to one end of the pool, where a lone foal was swimming around, ignored by all the adults. “The poor little colt had his party turned into the social event of the year by his mother, and she invited all her business associates. She’s currently trying to sell them all essential oils. He wasn’t allowed to invite any of his friends, because they weren’t the right sort of ponies.”

“That sounds awful,” I said.

The spirit of harmony nodded in glum agreement.

“Never say I don’t do anything to help the common pony,” Discord said. “The first thing to do is turn the water in the pool into jelly. I’d suggest grape. Grape is a classic.”

The spirit of harmony tilted her head.

“Lingonberry?” Discord scoffed. “Why, so he can grow up to be pretentious?”

“I prefer marmalade,” I noted.

Discord rolled his eyes. “I almost forgot that I did this in the first place because you were too sour and pithy. Thank you for reminding me.”

The spirit of harmony snorted a tiny laugh and nodded to me.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered, snapping my paw. I could feel it start to well up out of control without Starlight’s spell holding it back. Discord put a talon on my shoulder, and the spirit of harmony watched the pool below, her expression deadly serious.

The water lit up, and suddenly gelled, turning a bright blue.

“What’s that?” Discord asked.

“I believe it’s blue raspberry,” I said.

The spirit of harmony nodded, then gave me a big smile. I’d done it correctly. The foal splashing around was now shouting, thankfully in excitement and not terror.

“Now that’s a birthday he’ll remember,” Discord grinned. “Low stakes, but a definite improvement, and nopony got hurt. Trust me, that part’s the most difficult. It took me ages to learn not to break my toys. Ponies are surprisingly fragile little creatures.”

The spirit nodded sadly in agreement.

“So!” Discord clapped his talons. “I can practically nearly feel myself recovering! A few more random acts of kindness and I might even be able to hedge slightly less than the Canterlot castle maze. What’s next on the list?”

I found myself holding the scroll and checked the next item.

“Oh yes, I remember this one,” Discord said. “Never let it be said I don’t put careful thought into how I spend my time. This, my dear Ibis, is the Mugwort School For The Gifted, a boarding school that turns exceptional, talented youths into dull adults by making sure they fit perfectly into narrow little boxes.”

He gestured grandly at what looked like a prison. It was one of the most imposing, humorless buildings I’d ever seen in Equestria. Something about it seemed to turn the earth and the sky grey around it, like all color and hope was being drained from the world.

“I was going to spend some time here,” Discord said. “You know, warming things up. Little things at first, maybe pretend to be a friendly little spirit and grant wishes to some of the foals that haven’t been entirely broken.”

“That sounds...nice,” I ventured.

“And eventually a total overthrow of authority, tribes of wild fillies and colts roaming the halls in acrylic warpaint, improvised spears made of rulers and safety scissors, the teachers fleeing for their lives, sort of a Lord of the Flies situation crossed with the Prench Revolution. You know, fun!”

“Less nice,” I corrected.

“Well, we don’t have time for the total overthrow plan,” Discord said. “Not without a little mind control--”

The spirit of harmony cleared her throat.

“--And apparently that’s not allowed today,” Discord sighed.

The spirit looked at him and then motioned to me.

“Yes, yes, I know, since she’d be using my powers she’d probably fumble around and break something permanently in their little heads,” Discord said. “You don’t need to shout! We’re all on the same team here. Well, we’re on opposite teams but we both want the big game to go on and not end in a massive firey disaster.”

“...Is that what will happen if you don’t get your magic back?” I asked, suddenly even more worried.

“You know I’m not sure if I should brag that I’m the only thing keeping Equestria from ruin or if I should pretend you’re likely to explode and take the rest of us with you,” Discord said. “Which one would make you panic more?”

“Are either of them true?”

“Very presumptuous, asking about the truth, of all things.” Discord shook his head and sighed. “If you do this right, maybe I’ll tell you the truth.” He scoffed and added air quotes to that last word after the fact. He was feeling so poorly even his sarcastic timing was off.

“So what should I do?” I asked.

“For one thing, following instructions to the letter isn’t very chaotic,” Discord said. “Improvise! Use your imagination!”

I closed my eyes and thought. I didn’t dare use the magic on ponies, but I could affect their environment, and that was all too easy. I could feel it, how fragile the world was when cause and effect were disjoined, when anything could happen for any reason or no reason at all. It was all about intent.

This time, I had to go big.

I snapped my paw, and the whole school lit up with a series of flashes. The ground rumbled, and the school started to twist and change, rooms unfolding and everything breaking up into cubes before reforming.

“Oh. Oh!” Discord clapped, as things fell into place, literally in the case of some rooms being quickly relocated to ground level. A Ferris wheel rose up, lights in every color of the rainbow coming to life, a rotating panopticon of fun in the center of a ring of barred cells, each one containing a single member of staff. Between them was a fairground, full of booths and games and treats for the foals, who found themselves wandering among the sights and sounds with no real supervision.

“The games are educational,” I said. “Which makes them even more fun.”

“We’ll agree to disagree on that,” Discord said. “I’m very impressed. That’s some quality world-warping! I could have done it better, but for someone as green as Lieutenant Broccoli and almost as bad with other people, I’m honestly taken by surprise, and at my age that doesn’t happen often.”

The spirit of harmony motioned to the cages.

“If I didn’t do something to contain the teachers, they’d never allow the students to explore and learn for themselves,” I said, trying to justify it. “They’ll be fine. I think I made it temporary.”

Discord confidently snapped his talons, and there was a tiny spark. He frowned and tried again. A few pathetic sparks were all he could manage.

“I don’t get it,” Discord mumbled. “Why isn’t it working?”

The spirit of harmony floated up and looked closely at his talon. He held it out for her, and she examined it from several angles before floating back to rub her chin. Then she tilted her head and shrugged, motioning her suggestion.

“Turn it off and back on again?!” Discord yelled. “What kind of advice is that?!”

“No, wait, she has a point,” I said. “I think we should try that.”

“And how, exactly, are we going to turn me off and then on again?” Discord asked.

The spirit grinned.

“No. No. Nonono--”

There was a burst of rainbow light. I looked at the statue, then at the spirit of harmony.

“So how long should we leave him like that?” I asked.

She shrugged and motioned towards the festival I’d created.

“Six hours!” Discord groaned. “I felt every moment like it was a million years!”

“We lost track of time,” I said, by way of an apology. “We didn’t mean to take you for granite.”

Discord paused in his grumbling and blinked before looking at me.

“Was that a joke?” he asked. “An actual pun?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize! It’s the first sign that this experiment worked at all!” Discord crowed, grinning. “Maybe all this was worth it after all!”

The spirit of harmony nodded, still eating cotton candy. She motioned to the treat and the festival.

“Well of course it’s more fun than you’ve had in years,” Discord said. “You just… lurk around and vaguely offer advice and omens. You need to get out more.”

She paused and nodded slowly. Then she shrugged and motioned to me.

“Oh yes, I suppose i need to do something about her before she explodes.” Discord cracked his knuckles, warmed up by creating a pair of sunglasses out of nothing, and then gave me a very serious look. “Now, this is a very delicate operation. I need you to hold very still.”

I nodded.

Discord took a careful look at me and his expression fell with a dramatic gasp. “Oh, wait! We can’t get started yet, because what’s this behind your ear?”

He reached behind my ear and pulled out a tiny spark of light.

“Why, it’s my borrowed power! What else are you keeping back there?” he reached behind my other ear. “A quarter!” He held up the coin. “I’ll let you keep the cash, but I’ll need these powers back.”

“You’re welcome to them,” I assured him.

“Now, out of the kindness of my heart and, frankly, being bored with both of you…” he snatched his to-do list back. “I’ve got things to meet, places to do, people to be, that sort of thing.”

“Could you send me back to the school?” I asked. He raised his eyebrow, and I sighed. “Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” Discord said. “If Fluttershy can make me say please and thank you, the least you mortals can do is be polite in return.”

I bit my lip and just nodded. Discord snapped his talons, and the world vanished. I found myself floating in black, endless space, the void between worlds, and somewhere in the depths I could just see the terrible thing at the heart of the cosmos, a storm of random energy and matter swirling in turbulent purposeless--

“Whoops, wrong address! Sorry, I just get rusty so quickly when I’m almost killed by having my powers drained out of me.”

I felt a talon grab my tail and yank, and I fell through a hole in space back into the world of light and hope and sanity.

It was also the middle of the school cafeteria, and I’d landed on my back, in what had a moment ago been lunch for my classmates.

Luster Dawn stood up and looked at me.

“Rough day?” she asked.

I nodded, not getting up yet.

“You wanna talk about it?” Luster Dawn asked.

“I’d rather not, please,” I said. Berlioz helped me to my paws, then helped me get cleaned up a little bit.

“Is anypony else going to ask about the alicorn?” Phantasma Gloom stage-whispered, pointing to the other end of the table.

I turned to look.

The spirit of harmony waved to me, smiling.

“Oh, you’re sticking around for a while?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Should we be bowing?” Phantasma asked. “I haven’t had good experiences with alicorns lately and I don’t want to mess this up.”

“She’s just the incarnate spirit of harmony magic,” I assured her. “She doesn’t bite.”

The cafeteria doors burst open, and Larrikin strolled in.

“Okay everypony, don’t panic!” she yelled. “But I have amazing news! I met a new friend! Come on in, Booky.”

She motioned to the doors, and a second pony who looked very much like a younger Twilight Sparkle walked in, smirking right until she saw the spirit of harmony.

“What the buck is this?!” the little Twilight said. “Wait, I know you! You melted me!”

“Oh hey, twins!” Larrikin said.

The spirit of harmony floated over to the other apparent alicorn and booped her snoot, to use the technical term. The alicorn’s image flickered and I caught a glimpse of crystal and wood underneath a skin made of illusion magic. She swatted at the spirit of harmony, driving her off. The spirit looked amused but unconcerned.

“...I think I better write Princess Twilight an emergency letter,” Luster Dawn whispered.

Chapter 6 - The Tragedy of the Uncommons

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A cold wind blew through the train car. It was always windy and cold in Canterlot, the city perched at the peak of a mountain and looking down on the ponies below like a symbol reminding them of something symbolic. Maybe the wind was going home, just like Luster Dawn was. She adjusted the fedora she was wearing, pulling her coat tight against the breeze.

“It’s sort of drafty, isn’t it?” Larrikin asked. “Did anypony bring a snack?”

Larrikin was lucky. There wasn’t a point in disguising them. They looked a little different every day, and all it took the kelpie was a little mental effort and they were another face in the crowd. Luster Dawn knew she didn’t have that kind of luxury. She was going to stand out. Ponies in Canterlot knew who she was, and if she was going to avoid attention, it meant being fast, quiet, and carrying the biggest distraction she could think of.

The Spirit of Harmony turned to her and smiled like it could read her mind.

“You always want a snack,” Booky said. The alicorn adjusted herself on her seat, her image flickering and revealing the composite body underneath, wood and crystal and magic holding together just enough to let her actually interact with the world.

“If I didn’t want one I wouldn’t be asking,” Larrikin pointed out.

Booky rolled her eyes. “It’s not like somepony is just going to show up with--”

“Does anypony want some popcorn?” Phantasma asked, trotting quietly into the room with a big bag and a few drinks. “I ended up going all the way to the dining car on my walk, and something told me I should pick up a few things.”

The Spirit of Harmony giggled.

Booky glared at her near-double. “It’s cheating if you use harmony magic to inspire ponies to do something before anypony even knows they need to do it!”

“I want some popcorn!” Larrikin exclaimed, taking the bag happily and diving in. “Oh! Extra butter!”

“Luster, I brought you a coffee,” Phantasma said, the leggy dame settling down next to Luster Dawn and offering her a steaming cup of joe.

“Thanks,” Luster said, taking it and looking out the window. The coffee was as dark as her soul, as black as midnight on a cloudless night. That is to say, it had two creams and two sugars, which was just the way she liked it. Phantasma was the sort of good friend who remembered her friends’ coffee orders.

“Are you nervous about going home?” Phantasma asked.

“This is going to be a delicate operation,” I said. “Booky and the Spirit will get all the attention, and knowing Princess Twilight, she’ll get so flustered and distracted that I’ll be able to get some straight answers from her.”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Larrikin interrupted. “I can’t wait to meet your friends. I’ve got a bunch of questions for them!”

“My… friends?” Luster asked, slowly.

“You know, your old Canterlot friends,” Larrikin said. “Ibis gave me a bunch of forms for them to fill out. She said she wanted to find out about your secret weaknesses so she could finally figure out a riddle that would stump you, and that I shouldn’t tell you about it because she wants to spring it on you when you least expect it like a panther ready to pounce!”

“You… just told her about it,” Phantasma sighed.

“If Ibis really wanted it kept secret she should have picked somepony better at keeping secrets,” Larrikin countered. “She knows I’m bad at stuff like that, so it’s probably part of her secret plan. Luster finds out about the forms, thinks she knows what’s coming, then wha-bam! She pulls something out of left field and it’s totally different from what you expected!”

“I’m surprised she had forms ready,” Phantasma said.

“Well, you know she doesn’t really like trains,” Larrikin said. "She hates riding in the cargo car."

Luster sighed. “It’s too bad Arteria was busy. She’d probably be a big help with the plan.”

Phantasma rolled her eyes. “If you say so. I think the plan is a little…” she hesitated. “It’s very ambitious and exciting.”

That was the polite way of saying she didn’t think it was going to work and that Luster Dawn was making a mountain out of a molehill. Luster took a sip of her coffee instead of commenting on Phantasma’s lack of faith.

“I’m also excited to meet your friends, though,” Phantasma said. “You were Princess Twilight’s personal student, so I bet you knew a lot of ponies.”

Luster Dawn was looking out the window, so the others didn’t see the wave of panic wash across her face, panic that was forced away with a big smile.

“Oh yeah,” Luster said. “I knew… wow, I don’t even know! Probably hundreds of ponies? I wouldn’t say I was really great friends with many of them. I mean, you guys are my best friends.”

A lingering nervousness that had been hovering around Phantasma seemed to go away, and the tall black-and-red pony relaxed a little.

“And, uh, I’m sure my other friends are very busy with… projects.”

“Projects?” Booky asked.

The Spirit gave Luster Dawn the kind of skeptical look that you got from someone who was absolutely sure you were lying but was hoping you’d just admit to it instead of making them point it out. The Spirit of Harmony was really, really good at conveying a lot of detailed information with just body language.

“W-well I was basically a grad student, you know?” Luster scoffed, trying to look cool. “I was in all the advanced classes. Advanced Sorcery 201, Recursive Divination 101, Obfuscate 60, Artifacts 80…”

“Oh yeah, nopony is more popular than an underage grad student taking a double course load,” Booky said, metaphorically dripping with sarcasm in the way Larrikin literally dripped with pond water.

“You’ll see!” Luster Dawn snapped, instantly rising to the challenge before she could think about it and immediately regretting rising to said challenge. “I mean, uh, if they’re not busy. We’re going to a school of friendship, but they’re still attending the school of magic, so I don’t want to disturb them.”

“It’ll be neat meeting them,” Larrikin said. “Ibis thinks they’re all gonna be in a book club and stuff, but Arteria said your Canterlot friends are probably nobility. Berlioz thinks you didn’t have a lot of friends but he’s sort of a downer.”

“Haha!” Luster laughed. “Y-yeah! What does he know?” She smiled. “But, uh, let’s just focus on the mission first.”

“Right!” Larrikin smiled. “We cause a ton of chaos and you exploit it!”

“That’s not exactly the plan. But it’s close enough.”

Canterlot Palace. Most ponies thought of it as a beacon of stability and a symbol of the power of the alicorn princesses. In reality, it had been rebuilt at least three times in recent memory. It had burned down a few decades ago in what the palace staff simply called ‘The Sunset Incident’, then it had been reduced to rubble by a coalition of villains, and then a particularly bad Grand Galloping Gala had gotten out of hand and they were still trying to figure out how so much stone had gotten transmuted into pudding. But the fourth castle stayed up, and it was more secure and beautiful than any of the ones that had come before.

The security part was important, because unlike the old days, there was only so far you could walk into the castle uninvited with two mysterious alicorns before somepony would take notice.

Luster Dawn had only gotten halfway to the throne room from the front gates when a wall of guards appeared in front of her as if by magic, but the only real magic involved was the coordination and dedicated work of the Captain of the palace guard.

“That’s far enough,” she said. The voice had enough authority and force behind it that even spoken softly, the words were enough to make Luster Dawn almost snap to attention herself.

Tempest Shadow stood a head taller than anypony in the room except Phantasma, but the way she carried herself made her seem twice that size. She narrowed her gaze as she looked at Luster Dawn and the group she’d brought with her.

“I should have known somepony would take notice,” Luster said. She dramatically removed her hat. “I need to--”

The Captain raised her hoof. She looked at the two alicorns, then took a deep breath. “Not this again. I can’t believe it keeps-- Alert everypony, we’ve got a Double Mirror Black and White Event! Yes, lieutenant, again!”

“A what?” Luster Dawn blinked in surprise as ponies started moving as if they knew exactly what to do.

“You did the right thing, coming here,” Tempest said. “The last time this happened, it was a teleportation accident during an ion storm.”

“The last time what happened?” Luster asked.

“The Princess being split into her good and evil halves,” Tempest explained. “It was a whole… thing last time. You know, ‘can half a mare live?’ And ‘We all have our darker side. We need it! It's half of what we are. It's not really ugly. It's Equine!’”

“That sounds…” Luster tilted her head. “Split into good and evil? That can happen?”

“I stopped asking questions about Princess Twilight’s magical accidents years ago,” Tempest said. “Now I just try and plan out how to solve them.”

“Well, uh, it’s not what you think,” Luster said. “They’re not Princess Twilight.”

“I could be Princess Twilight,” Booky said. “I’d be better at it than she is.”

“Oh,” Tempest Shadow said. She sighed. “Cancel the Black and White Alert! Yes, I can see you’ve got the portable spell circles set up! Just put them back into storage!” She turned back to Luster. “So who are they, then? Because if they were a little older--”

The Spirit of Harmony, who needed about as many candles on her birthday cake as Princess Celestia, snorted with laughter at that.

Tempest just kept going, ignoring the giggle. “The point is, there are two strange alicorns in my castle, and I need to know why they’re here and why you’re here.”

“Well, you’re the sheriff,” Luster said, with a shrug and smile. “The one who’s sort of floating and hasn’t gotten a real strong grasp on gravity is the Spirit of Harmony, and we really should figure out a better name than that.”

The Spirit shrugged as if to say she’d been a tree for a dozen centuries and was fine with taking things slowly.

“The other one is my friend!” Larrikin said, excited like a puppy. “I found her in the forest and I’m pretty sure she was part of an evil plot to destroy Equestria. She’s made out of sticks and rocks and magic!”

“But she’s good now!” Luster assured Tempest.

Booky patted Luster on the flank. “Sure I am.”

“I hate Mondays,” Tempest sighed.

“Look, we can clear all this up if we just talk to Princess Twilight,” Luster Dawn said. “And I’m sure she’ll want to study this right away! We should probably just go right to the throne room, or her private study. Where is she right now, anyway?”

“She’s not here,” Tempest said, rubbing her temples and trying to stave off a headache. “That’s why I thought these two might be her, split into good and evil halves.”

“She’s not… here?” Luster asked.

“I told you we should have just sent a letter,” Phantasma muttered.

“Where did she go?” Luster asked. “I don’t remember any diplomatic trips scheduled for this year. This is important, and I really need to talk to her in person, in private.”

Tempest Shadow shook her head. “I can’t tell you that.”

“You definitely can. I’m her personal student! You can trust me! Twilight would trust me. I’ve got a very high security clearance.”

“First, no, you don’t, because I’m the one who decides if a pony is or isn’t cleared for information,” Tempest said. “Second, it has nothing to do with trust. It’s about following orders. I have explicit orders to tell nopony where she is, and I agree with her reason for giving the order.”

“That’s not fair at all,” Luster muttered.

“I don’t like it much either,” Tempest said, her expression softening a little. “I don’t like keeping secrets and I hate left being left behind. I know how it feels being out of the loop. I might be able to pass on a message, but I don’t think I can manage much more than that, even if I wanted.”

“I’ll… think about it. You’ll probably write a report on this anyway.”

Tempest nodded. “For when she gets back. If it’s not critical, I don’t want to distract her. You know how flustered she gets when she gets distracted by something.”

Luster Dawn laughed nervously. “Yeah. Flustered.”

“She totally forgets what she’s doing and starts floundering around,” Tempest continued. “That’s why I do my best to keep her from being blind-sided by little things like this.”

“Guess we’re not gonna get to meet the Princess, huh?” Larrikin asked. “Does that mean we have more time to meet Luster’s old friends?”

“That’s a good idea, Larrikin,” Phantasma said. “The school is right next door, isn’t it? We could just walk over and visit them.”

Luster Dawn felt a bead of sweat work its way down her face.

“That’s a good idea,” Tempest said with approval. “The staff there are all vetted, so it’s one of the safest places in Canterlot, which makes it one of the safest places in the world. As long as you follow all the school rules.”

“Rules?”

Tempest shrugged. “It’s just little things that Luster Dawn can explain. I was never a student, so I just make sure to bring a guide. None of you have any copper jewelry, right?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Phantasma said.

“Good, because if you get too close to any area marked off with red lines, copper-- well, Luster Dawn can explain it when you’re there.”

“It’s not as dangerous as it sounds,” Luster assured her friends. “Twilight just put a few extra rules in place to try and avoid some of the… accidents that have happened over the years.”

They were trotting quietly through one of the school buildings, an ancient hall that had been used for centuries and needed major structural repairs at least once every semester when a student found their way to the more interesting synthesis chains in organic chemistry that involved a lot of nitrogen atoms very loosely and briefly attached to a molecule. Wide stripes in bright, primary colors were painted on the floor, and there were yellow triangles displayed above the doors to either side of the hall.

“And all the lines painted on the ground?” Phantasma asked.

“It’s smart, right? They help lead new students around! And the labs are all marked with little warning symbols so you know what to watch out for and what safety gear you need.”

“What does that one mean?” Larrikin asked, pointing at a symbol of a pen and paper inside a cloud.

“That means a dream recording device is active,” Luster said.

“And the one with the weird triangle?”

“Non-euclidean impossible architectures.”

“And what about that one?”

“That’s an eye wash station.”

The Spirit already had her head through one of the doors like it wasn’t solid. Or like she wasn’t solid. Luster Dawn wasn’t entirely sure if the spirit was corporeal. It seemed rude to ask and it was definitely out of line to just walk up to her and start poking to see how solid she was. She seemed to notice ponies looking at her, because she pulled herself free, shrugging about whatever she saw inside.

“Where would your friends be?” Larrikin asked.

“Well, uh…” Luster Dawn hesitated. “I mean, I’ve been away for months now! I don’t know exactly where anypony is, or what they’re working on. I’m not good at writing letters.”

“That’s probably easy when you don’t have anypony to write to,” Booky whispered, just loudly enough that only Luster could hear her. It made Luster flinch.

“Let’s go to the library!” Luster said, trying to recover her poise and succeeding only because her friends were polite enough not to mention how she’d stumbled.

“The library?” Phantasma asked.

“Yeah! It’s the most exciting place in the school!” Luster lied.

“So when does the exciting part happen?” Larrikin asked.

“Right about the same time we run into Luster Dawn’s old friends, I suspect,” Booky said, leaning dangerously far back in her chair like some sort of delinquent. Luster shot a glance towards the librarian, who was thankfully having a small panic attack after seeing two copies of Twilight Sparkle walk into her library and had decided to lie down for a bit.

The Spirit of Harmony seemed happy just to be somewhere new, and was lurking on top of the bookcases.

“I just didn’t want to disturb anypony in the middle of the day,” Luster said. “I’m sure we’ll see somepony later. I mean, if we even want to!” She laughed a little. “It’d be more fun to go out and see the sights, right? Or we could stay here! The library was recently expanded, you know. Princess Twilight added a whole wing!”

“Oh my gosh, is that a new alicorn?”

“Do you think she’s a princess?”

“She doesn’t have a crown.”

“Maybe she hasn’t been crowned yet?”

“Should we invite her?”

The group turned to look at two unicorns peeking around the edge of a bookshelf to stare at them. They whispered to each other like nopony could see or hear them. Luster stared at them for a moment. They looked vaguely familiar, but most of the ponies at school were just sort of vague shapes and colors in her memory.

“Hey there!” Booky said, waving them over. “I heard something about an invitation?”

The unicorns looked at each other, nodded, and walked over, heads held high. They had a look to them, that made-up, coordinated look that came from fashion magazines and following all the passing fads.

“We’re having a little party tonight in the castle,” one of them said. “My uncle rented a ballroom. We were hoping Princess Twilight would make an appearance but she’s busy.”

“But having a new alicorn nopony knows about would be even better,” the other one added. They were practically twins, with how similar they looked.

“Maybe you could come, even if it’s just for a little while?” the first suggested.

“Well I donno,” Booky said. “I’m sure you know Luster Dawn, right? Princess Twilight’s personal student? She’s one of my friends, I can’t just ditch her…”

They looked at Luster Dawn, and Booky smirked.

“I’m giving you an out,” she mouthed silently, while nopony except Luster was looking at her.

“Oh yeah, we’re super good friends,” Luster laughed.

“Well of course we know Princess Twilight’s student!” one of them said.

“Don’t we have classes with her?” the other asked.

“Totally! Of course she can come.”

“Great!” Larrikin said. “This party sounds fun. Will there be food?”

They recoiled from the kelpie.

“Uh… you’re not even a unicorn.”

“I don’t go anywhere without her,” Booky said. “So how about she tags along as my plus one? And Luster can take Phantasma.”

“Who?”

“Um, me,” Phantasma whispered, raising a hoof. The two unicorns jumped, having totally missed her.

“Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal,” Booky said. “I’ll bring my twin sister.”

“You have a twin sister?”

Booky pointed up. The Spirit of Harmony waved down at them from where she was hovering.

“A party,” Tempest said flatly. She wasn’t against parties. She even knew about the party in question. She was simply struggling with the mental effort required to determine why Luster Dawn was planning to attend it.

Tempest Shadow’s office was organized to military precision. Boxes of files labeled precisely with their level of importance sat next to alphabetized filing cabinets. Her broad mahogany desk had a stack of papers in the inbox, a spike where she’d impaled a number of forms that had apparently displeased her, and an outbox where the lucky survivors got to go off to their next destination. The walls were hung with banners showing Twilight’s cutie mark and the Equestrian flag, but the decor had the sense of a trophy room with mementos of defeated foes.

Luster tried to get comfortable in the seat she’d been offered, which was just a little too low to let her look at the papers on the desk and a little too uncomfortable to want to stay long, though Tempest’s gaze worked as well as rope in keeping her firmly seated.

“We came all the way out here to Canterlot, it seems like sort of a waste to go home already,” Luster Dawn said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I thought taking my friends to a party, hosted in the castle where it’s totally safe, was a good idea. It is totally safe, isn’t it? I mean, you’re in charge of the security, right?”

“Of course it’s safe,” Tempest said. “Nowhere in all of Equestria is safer than the castle.”

“Great! Then it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

Tempest sighed. “Look, do you even know the ponies who invited you?”

“Sure, yeah, we have… classes together. I think.”

“I have files on them. And before you ask, no, I’m not paranoid enough to have files on everypony. Ponies who do that end up locking themselves in a cabin with a lot of corkboard and string and trying to prove Princess Twilight is really three ponies in a purple trenchcoat.”

“What kind of files?”

“Not the kind that would put them in prison,” Tempest said. “Suspicions of academic fraud. Bullying. Breaking school rules. We’re waiting for them to put a hoof just far enough out of line that they get in real trouble, and then the rest of this is going to come down to show a pattern of behavior.”

“They might not get in trouble. Ponies can change.”

“Ponies can change. But you have to be ready for when they don’t.” Tempest sighed. “I can’t stop you from going to the party, but I can tell you I don’t think it’s going to work out the way you want.”

Luster laughed. “I think I can handle myself at a party. I’ve been at plenty of parties.”

Tempest shrugged.

“There’s already going to be a security detail,” Tempest said. “If something happens, tell them and they’ll take care of it.” She turned her chair a little, motioning for Luster Dawn to leave. “You’re dismissed, but remember I warned you.”

“I’ll be okay,” Luster promised, finally feeling like she could get up now that the gaze was off her. “Thank you for being worried, though.”

She escaped out of the office, nodding to Tempest’s secretary at her desk just outside the intimidating mare’s chambers, and managed to act nonchalant all the way to the hallway outside where she had a moment of privacy to wipe the sweat from her brow and sit for a moment on the more comfortable bare stone.

“Well that’s part one of the plan done,” she muttered. “Next comes the hard part.”

“It’s very… different from what I expected,” Phantasma said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought parties at the palace were more…”

Luster Dawn laughed like she totally expected everything she was seeing. She was on top of things. She knew it was going to be all ponies a few years older than her, a sound system blaring music that sounded like a very angry Yak giving his manifesto while others smashed drums and a very resilient guitar, and ponies thinking they were being very sneaky with wine and cider even though the guards could clearly see them.

“It’s not the Gala, Phantasma,” Luster said. “It’s just some ponies having fun!”

“Oh yes, just ponies having fun,” Booky said. “I’m going to go mingle. Minion! Attend me!”

“That’s me!” Larrikin said. “I’m gonna see if I can get her to mingle near the snack table. Do you girls want anything?”

“I’m good, thanks,” Luster Dawn said. Phantasma shook her head, and Larrikin waved as they trotted off after Booky.

“Is it just me, or is ‘Princess Booky’ sort of… evil?” Phantasma whispered.

“Larrikin will keep her out of trouble,” Luster Dawn assured her.

“Larrikin can’t keep themselves out of trouble,” Phantasma pointed out.

“You’ve just got to trust ponies sometimes,” Luster said. “Besides, the literal Spirit of Harmony is here!” She reached over to pat the Spirit, realized she still didn’t know if the sparkling alicorn was actually solid, and turned the gesture into a sort of vague wave to avoid accidentally going right through her, which was probably rude to incorporeal beings. “If things got really crazy, she can, um…”

Luster hesitated, thinking.

“Fire a rainbow laser at them?” Phantasma suggested.

“To be fair, that did always solve problems when Princess Twilight did it,” Luster shrugged. “That said, it really doesn’t seem like your kind of gig.”

She looked at the Spirit, who nodded and motioned to the party.

“Wait, you mean… you’re the reason we found out about the party?” Luster asked. “But you were just hanging around in the library. You didn’t do anything! It was just a coincidence that those girls heard us talking!”

The Spirit winked and put a hoof to her lips.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Luster sighed. “If you do something right, it means nopony knows you did it at all, right?”

The Spirit nodded.

“Well… thanks,” Luster said. “I don’t think Booky liked my library tour. Actually, I’m kind of surprised she even lets anypony call her ‘Booky’.”

The Spirit smiled a little and looked over to where Booky was complaining to Larrikin about the buffet.

“I see your point,” Luster said. “I guess it’s different if it comes from a friend.”

“So what should we do first?” Phantasma asked. “We could try dancing, or you could introduce us to the other ponies.”

Luster looked around. She didn’t know anypony’s name. She thought she might have class with some of them but she couldn’t have guessed their names if the fate of Equestria depended on it.

“Dancing sounds great,” she said, despite the music. It was the least painful option. “But I just need to take care of something really quickly. Can you keep an eye on Booky and make sure she doesn’t get in over her head?”

Phantasma sighed. “You’re going to go do something really silly aren’t you?”

“No! Maybe! I won’t get caught. Look, the Spirit of Harmony thinks it’ll be okay!”

They looked at the Spirit. She’d gone out onto the dance floor and was busting the kind of moves you could only do if your body was a totally optional magical construct. Ponies were cheering her on as she went into a spinning hornstand and slowly levitated into the air.

“I’m not sure that counts as agreeing your idea is good,” Phantasma said.

“If it was bad, she’d be trying to stop me. I think. Anyway, she’s having fun. You should have fun too. I’ll be back before you know it!”

Sneaking out of the ballroom was easy. Almost too easy. Captain Shadow had assigned veteran guards to the party, which was a mistake that she couldn’t have foreseen. Some of them remembered when Twilight Sparkle had been a student instead of a hero or a ruler, and seeing two of her in one place captured all their attention in the same way a bomb disposal expert would be captivated by finding not just one but two mysterious, ticking packages.

It wouldn’t be accurate to say that Luster Dawn was sneaky. She’d never had enough of a social life in Canterlot to really learn sneakiness at a young age. However, ever since going to Ponyville she’d had Trixie as one of her teachers, and if there was one thing that mare was good at, it was the art of misdirection and subterfuge.

According to Trixie, there were three types of stealth. The first was using a distraction to get everypony’s attention and making sure you were somewhere else. The classic example was setting a building on fire on the other side of town. Luster Dawn wasn’t sure why that was a classic example or why Trixie was so quick to go straight to arson as a distraction, but the point was well-taken.

The guard detail keeping an eye on the corridor, for example, was about to be very distracted.

Luster waited to one side of a doorway and grabbed a bouncing ball, casting an illusion spell on it and quickly throwing it down the hallway.

“Oops!” the ball squeaked loudly when it bounced. The next bounce came with the sound of shattering glass. The third was another voice. “I don’t know what went wrong!”

The ball continued down the hall, making more sound as it went. The guards left their post, following the sound and looking for broken windows and injured ponies. Luster Dawn waited until they’d gone around a corner after the bouncing ball and then ducked out into the open.

The second type of stealth was making ponies believe you belonged there, so Luster Dawn tried to look calm and collected as she walked past the abandoned post and deeper into the castle. She walked past a maid without even looking at the pony, just two ships passing in the night, and the maid didn’t notice her - but if she’d been sprinting down the hallway or sneaking from cover to cover, they’d have known something was wrong instantly.

Luster Dawn made it all the way into the other wing of the palace before she had to change tactics.

The third type of stealth was the one most ponies thought of right away, which was why Trixie relegated it all the way to the bottom of the list. It was the art of not being seen. It was certainly a valid type of stealth but also the riskiest - the other two types of stealth allowed a clever pony to talk their way out of being found, but lurking in shadows and ducking behind curtains couldn’t be excused as having gotten lost while looking for the little mare’s room.

Making things more difficult was the fact Luster wasn’t in a place she was very familiar with. If she’d been sneaking into Twilight’s chambers, she’d have known every blind corner and place to hide. She also knew that the magical protection and overlapping guard details would make it all but impossible to sneak in without breaking the castle wards wide open and using teleportation, and both of those were well outside her expertise.

Luster stayed near the wall, pressing against it and trying to stay low and silent. She couldn’t pretend she was lost here. The ponies likely to find her were smart enough that telling them she was trying to find the bathroom would never work, and a distraction here, so close to her target, would only make things worse.

She crept up to the doorway and looked around it, spotting a desk sitting to one side of a wide doorway.

And, luckily, the desk wasn’t occupied.

“Thank Celestia,” Dawn whispered, then immediately put her hooves over her mouth, feeling like an idiot. She ducked inside and ran for the door the desk guarded, throwing a scanning spell at it and half-expecting a ward designed to fry anypony foolish enough to touch the heavy door without permission.

When the scan returned a result, it stopped Luster in her tracks.

“No ward at all?” she whispered, looking up at the massive door. “But why?”

Behind her, down the corridor, she heard the distinctive tread of an armored guard. There was no time to hesitate. Luster pulled the door open as quietly as she could, half-expecting the massive door to creak like an ancient gate to Tartarus. She used her magic to muffle it, holding it as securely as she could like she was cradling an eggshell, closing it behind her when she ran inside and wincing at the sound of the latch clicking into place.

She held her breath, straining her ears, listening for an alert from the guard.

A full minute passed, and she allowed herself to breathe again, gasping for air.

“Too close,” she whispered, turning around.

Captain Tempest Shadow’s office was even creepier with the lights off. She was trespassing and probably breaking a dozen laws, but it was also the best place to find answers to some of her questions. She lit up her horn with a soft glow and trotted over to the wide desk. There were still papers all over it, carefully sorted by the type and subject of the form, and that made everything all too easy.

“Let’s see… guard assignments…” Luster found the pile she was looking for and started flipping through them. Every time a guard was given a new post or assignment, there was a trail of paperwork that showed where they were coming from and where they were going and who was responsible for them every step along the way.

There was one group of ponies she was very interested in - Princess Twilight’s personal guard. No matter where she was going, Captain Shadow would make sure the Princess was well-protected.

“Ah-ha!” Luster pulled one paper out of the stack, reading it over. “This has to be it. So where did they go?”

She scanned down the page and frowned.

“Maremuda?” Luster Dawn tilted her head. “Did Twilight go on vacation? But… she never goes on vacation. And if she did, she could just tell me!”

She was so distracted she almost missed the sound of hooves just outside the door. A quick glance around didn’t make another exit magically appear. She was going to have to think fast, and the first thing that came to mind was a spell Trixie had taught her and she never, ever thought she’d actually have to use.

Captain Shadow walked into her office, looking around for a moment before reaching to the side to flick on the lights. She silently trotted to her desk and sat down, her chair and armor creaking.

A long minute or so passed with Captain Shadow simply sitting there before she spoke up.

“Do you really think I’m that stupid?” she asked. Captain Shadow turned her chair to the inconspicuous cardboard box that had appeared on the other side of the room, where, for example, a panicking pony might have tried to hide. “Really? A box for shipping oranges? Scurvy is a serious disease, but I don’t need that much vitamin C.”

Luster sighed and got out from under the box. “Sorry.”

“I’m more offended that you thought that would work,” Tempest said. “Where did you even find a box that size?”

“Professor Trixie taught us how to apparate cardboard boxes,” Dawn said defensively. She cleared her throat and tried to imitate Trixie’s slight stage accent. “The cardboard box that you have is ideal for fooling your enemies. It's a very important tool for infiltration missions!”

Captain Shadow sighed and shook her head. “Camouflage is the best way to slip past enemy surveillance. But cardboard is just paper when it comes down to it. Don't rely on the trick too many times, either.”

“Thanks for the advice,” Luster Dawn said. “Anyway, I should be going. It was great talking to you again!” She tried to act cool, going for the door and--

Captain Shadow cleared her throat. “Sit.”

Luster Dawn’s tail hit the floor before her brain even had time to process that she was sitting.

“You realize that what you just did was a serious crime, don’t you?” Captain Shadow asked calmly. “I could have you arrested, thrown in a dungeon, and keep you there until your mane turns grey.”

“I would… prefer if you didn’t,” Luster said. She turned around to face Captain Shadow properly.

“Princess Twilight always said you never let anything go until you’d dug up the truth,” Tempest sighed. “You found out where she went?”

“Maremuda,” Luster Dawn said. “Specifically--”

Captain Shadow held up a hoof to stop her. “Yes, fine. You know where she went. But that’s only a tiny part of it.” She smirked, just a little. “I bet you’re curious why it’s so secret.”

Luster paused and thought about it for a moment.

Tempest laughed. “The look on your face. You just realized you only had part of the truth, and now it’s going to bother you.”

“Well… why is it secret?” Luster asked.

“If I tell you, will you swear not to reveal it to another pony?” Captain Shadow asked.

Luster Dawn nodded.

“Princess Celestia and Princess Luna retired there. For now, anyway. We can’t keep their location secret forever, but we’re trying to give them privacy, you understand? They don’t want to be surrounded by guards all the time, but they also don’t want ponies dropping in constantly asking for favors. They want a quiet little life in a villa where they can just enjoy life for a while.”

“And if ponies knew where they were…”

“They’d have to move. Again. It’s happened before. We’re protecting them by keeping their location a state secret. The only ponies who know where they are… are ponies we trust not to abuse the information. You understand?”

“You’re trusting me not to abuse it.”

“Exactly. It’s better than having you dig around and cause even more problems. I mean really, Luster Dawn, attending a party? You think that I’d believe for a moment that you actually intended to stay there?” Captain Shadow scoffed.

“Well…” Luster blushed.

“No offense, but you take after your mentor.” Tempest got up from her chair and walked over to Luster Dawn, offering her a hoof to stand up. “Come on. You found out what you wanted.”

Luster took the hoof and froze, still sitting. “Wait, why did Princess Twilight go to visit Celestia now? And why wouldn’t she just tell me?”

“Princess Twilight visits her more often than you’d think,” Captain Shadow said. “They’re friends, and Princess Celestia was her mentor for most of her life.”

“This isn’t just about a social visit,” Luster Dawn said, standing up. “There are too many other things going on. You’re not a fool, but neither am I. There’s some kind of situation, isn’t there? Something where she thought she needed to talk to Celestia and get advice.”

Captain Shadow sighed and looked away. “It’s being dealt with. And before you offer to help, you’d only get in the way. That’s why Princess Twilight has tried to keep you out of it. There are ponies dealing with it already, and she doesn’t want you thinking you need to be involved in everything yourself.”

“But--”

Tempest Shadow turned to Luster Dawn and put a hoof on her shoulder, giving her a sad, serious look. “When Twilight was your age, all she ever did was go from one disaster to the next. She didn’t understand what she was really missing until she left Canterlot.”

“...I didn’t really know what I was missing until I made friends, either,” Luster admitted.

Tempest nodded. “And right now you’re ignoring your friends, and for what? So you can commit crimes and steal some paperwork so you can try and get involved in a problem that ponies are already dealing with?”

“I guess it’s a little silly, huh?” Luster asked. “I just… wanted to know.”

“It can be hard letting go and letting other ponies take care of problems,” Captain Shadow agreed. “You just have to trust us, okay? We’ve been saving Equestria since before you were born, we can handle whatever comes up. I promise.”

Luster nodded solemnly.

Tempest patted her shoulder again. “Let’s get you back to the party. And if you admit it isn’t your kind of scene, I’ll help you get out of there and you can read a book or something.”

“It wasn’t like this when I left,” Luster Dawn said.

“No. No it wasn’t,” Tempest agreed. “Help me untie the guards.”

The ballroom was in shambles. Tables were overturned in what looked like an attempt to create cover. Banners were torn from the walls. And most worryingly, all of the ponies who should have been at the party were absent, including Phantasma, which worried Luster more than any of the other disappearances.

“Where did they even find duct tape?” Tempest muttered, ripping it off a guard’s muzzle. They’d been left restrained in the middle of the room, hog-tied with velvet rope. “Legionary, report!”

“We didn’t know what to do, Ma’am,” he said. “We didn’t want to use force against foals. We tried talking them down, but--”

“You’re telling me a bunch of unarmed fillies and colts did this to you?” Captain Shadow asked. “You’re trained soldiers!”

“They had an alicorn leading them, Ma’am!”

“Booky,” Luster Dawn groaned.

“Wonderful,” Tempest said. “Where did they go?”

“The throne room,” Luster Dawn said instantly. “I’m sure of it.”

“Untie the others,” Tempest ordered the guard she’d helped. “I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you sure, Captain?”

“Let’s just say dealing with alicorns is part of my resume. Dawn, you’re with me. You might be able to talk them down.”

Luster nodded and followed her as Tempest Shadow ran for the throne room.

“Do we have a plan?” Luster asked.

“Several, but I’m hoping I won’t have to use any of them,” Captain Shadow said. “I’d hate to have to explain why we have several new exhibits in the statue garden when Princess Twilight gets back from her trip!”

Luster swallowed. “Right. Definitely want to avoid that!”

They found the doors to the throne room thrown wide open, and the guards milling around outside, not taking any real action until they saw Captain Shadow coming, at which point the most observant of them saluted.

“Report, Legionary,” Tempest said.

“Technically we’re Privates, Ma’am, Legionary is an archaic term--”

“A report on the situation, not an essay on modern military rank,” Captain Shadow snapped. “A situation you haven’t done anything about apparently, because I can see a tiny purple alicorn sitting on the throne surrounded by teenagers and you’re all out here like you think you’ll somehow get in more trouble trying to do your job then you will now that I’ve found you taking a coffee break during a coup!”

“It’s not like that, Ma’am!” the soldier looked into the throne room. “We can’t use force against children. We’ve been trying to talk them down.”

“Send word to their parents,” Tempest said. “They don’t care what you think, but once they hear daddy is going to cut them off from their inheritance for being seditious traitors, they’ll change their tune.”

“You’re going to tattle on them to their parents?” Luster asked, amused.

“There’s nothing a teenaged noble fears more than facing the prospect of having to actually work for a living,” Captain Shadow said. “You and you, go.” She pointed, and the two guards ran off. “The rest of you… They’re not going to respect you since all you did was stand around and watch while they caused trouble. Go form a perimeter.”

The rest saluted and ran, glad to be out of the immediate area.

Luster felt something tickling at the back of her neck. She looked up to see the Spirit of Harmony perched above the door. The Spirit waved to her.

“...You probably could have stopped this any time you wanted,” Luster said. “Why didn’t you do something?”

The Spirit shrugged, floated down a little, and pointed inside, smiling. Booky was standing on the throne, giving orders to the teenagers. Larrikin was standing at her side placidly. Phantasma spotted Luster and waved frantically.

“You think Booky is cute?” Luster asked.

The Spirit shrugged and blushed.

“Of course she does,” Tempest muttered. “Get in there and try talking her down.”

“Uh, right,” Luster nodded, walking in. The teenagers around the throne watched her approach. One of them stepped forward.

“Show proper deference to the new leader of Equestria!” she said. “Princess Booky!”

Luster bowed a little.

“You may approach,” Booky said, imperiously. “I have to admit, this was all too easy. I thought it would be harder to conquer Equestria. I guess I’m a better leader than I thought.”

Phantasma slowly broke away from the crowd, making her way to Luster’s side to whisper to her.

“She promised them that she’d get them A’s in all their classes and started giving out titles,” Phantasma whispered. “I don’t think she can actually do that, can she?”

“No, she can’t,” Luster said. She cleared her throat. “Okay, everypony, it’s time to stop and go home. You know you’re just going to get in trouble. It might seem like fun now, but in the morning, you’re going to wake up and realize this was a big mistake.”

The teenagers started mumbling to each other, until Booky stomped her hoof.

“Princess Twilight Sparkle has left the throne empty! As an alicorn, I claim it by right of divine succession!” Booky declared.

Luster groaned and felt a headache starting. “That’s not a thing.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s going to be a thing from now on,” Booky said. “The thing about rules and regulations is that they only matter if ponies actually do something about them. Look at the royal guards - they didn’t do anything to stop me, all because I had wings and a horn. If that’s not a right to rule, what is?”

“Are we really going to turn this into a philosophical discussion on the right to rule?” Luster asked. “Because to be honest I don’t think I have all that much time to get you to stand down before Captain Shadow decides to solve things very decisively.”

“The point is, this is what I was literally made for,” Booky said. “I was made to take Twilight’s place. How could I possibly resist that when I see the throne left open for anypony with the will to take it? It’s burned into me like your cutie mark is burned into you.”

“But--”

“Are you going to criticize me and tell me you didn’t run off in the middle of the party to try and shed some light on a mystery? Do you want to pretend that wasn’t your cutie mark driving you to action?”

Luster couldn’t resist the urge to glance at her own flank. “Yeah, I guess it was. And it got me into trouble, too. That’s what happens when we just follow something blindly.”

“What’s your point?” Booky asked, frowning.

“...I spent this whole trip thinking about how I’d use it,” Luster said. She looked around at the teenagers. “I lied to the ponies I cared about because I wanted them to think I was cooler than I was. The truth is, I don’t really know anypony here. All the classes I took were advanced classes, and the other students were practically twice my age! Or at least that’s how it felt. I couldn’t make friends and I didn’t even understand why it mattered until I met ponies like Phantasma.”

Luster Dawn held out her hoof, and took Phantasma’s.

“That’s why I decided to stay for a while. I was really enjoying getting to know creatures my own age. Or close enough. I think Ibis is like a thousand years old or something.”

“She still wants to be our friend,” Phantasma said quietly.

Luster nodded. “Yeah! And I should have remembered how important my friends were to me. You’re important to Larrikin and that should have been enough to make me want to get to know you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder, but we can change that.”

Booky scoffed and looked away.

“I don’t think you’re really enjoying this either,” Luster continued. “I mean, you and the Spirit of Harmony only just started living your own lives. You were stuck in a hole in the ground and she’s a tree.”

The Spirit cleared her throat, and waved a little.

“A treehouse now, right,” Luster corrected. “Do you really want to spend that new chance like this? Trying to take over Equestria with an army of teenagers? I mean, the second some real resistance shows up, this is all over.”

“I had fun hanging out with you in the forest,” Larrikin added. “When we were hunting down all the other magic sticks.”

“I mean… I guess I enjoyed that,” Booky admitted. “And it’s been nice not having anypony trying to boss me around.”

“You say that, but you’re still getting bossed around,” Luster said. “You said you were doing what you were made for. That means whoever made you is still giving you orders even if they’re not around.”

“I--” Booky frowned and rubbed her chin. Then she stomped her hoof, annoyed. “That’s-- you’re right.” She growled. “I hate to admit it, but you’re right. If I’m just doing this because it’s what I was created for, I’m just being a tool.”

“I know what that’s like,” Captain Shadow said, stepping into the throne room. “I’ve been there before. I’ve been right here in this castle, victorious over my enemies. Standing tall. And when I realized I was going it all for someone else? Someone who didn’t care about me?” Tempest shook her head sadly.

“You should listen to her,” Larrikin said. “You’re really cool, Booky. I don’t want you to get in trouble and end up banished to the moon!” Larrikin paused, and their stomach rumbled. “Also I’m getting kinda hungry. I haven’t eaten in almost an hour.”

Booky scoffed and repeated her minion’s words. “Almost an hour,” she muttered. She hopped down from the throne. “Fine. I’m done. This is getting boring and I didn’t really have much of a plan anyway.”

“Does that mean we can go get a snack?” Larrikin asked.

“Ugh. Yes! We’ll get you a snack!” Booky rolled her eyes, took a few steps, then looked back up at the throne. Luster could see it written all over her, that empty feeling of walking away from something important.

“Wait, where are you going?” one of the teenagers stepped in front of Booky. “What about our titles? What about my grades?”

Booky rolled her eyes. “Do I look like I care? I just said all that to get you to follow me. If you want better grades, study. If you want a title… I don’t know. Do something heroic.” She shoved the teenaged filly out of the way, stomping past her with Larrikin in tow and going right out of the room.

Within an hour, order had been restored. Parents were called in, and a lot of young ponies were in more trouble than they ever expected. Luster Dawn wasn’t even the one being screamed at and part of her still wanted to curl up somewhere and die after apologizing to everypony in Equestria.

“Are they really going to end up going to prison?” she asked, watching the last few of them being led away.

Captain Shadow snorted. “You really think I’d throw fillies and colts into the dungeons?”

“You threatened to do it to me.”

“I was reminding you of the consequences of your actions,” Tempest corrected. “I don’t threaten ponies, I tell them facts and let them decide how to act on them. Besides, it isn’t like we haven’t had this happen before.”

“...You’ve had students attempt a coup before?”

Tempest shrugged. “For some reason it seems like every unicorn in Equestria goes through a phase like this, where they want to be evil and overthrow the government, assume absolute power, ascend to the godhead, that kind of thing.”

The Spirit looked up at that and wiggled her eyebrows.

“Yes, and some of them even change their names to something scary and ominous,” Tempest Shadow muttered. “But that’s not important. The important thing is, nopony got hurt this year. I’ll make them write letters of apology and make them think they’re getting off easy.”

“Wait, I never did anything evil,” Luster said. “So not all unicorns do it!”

“You’re just a late bloomer,” Phantasma assured her. “I’m sure someday you’ll become an evil overlord. Just remember to ask for help from all of your friends first. Imagine if you tried to conquer Equestria with no plan!”

“We’ve seen how well that goes,” Captain Shadow said. “Personally, I’d prefer if you didn’t turn evil at all, but if you do, I’ll make sure to stop you very gently.”

“Thanks, I think,” Luster muttered.

“It’s just too bad we didn’t get to meet any of your real Canterlot friends,” Phantasma said. “There must have been somepony you were friends with.”

“The only ponies I even really talked to were my teachers,” Luster Dawn admitted. “I didn’t go out, I didn’t talk to the other students, but I’d do extra credit with the teachers, help them with grading…” she shrugged.

“That sounds like friendship to me,” Tempest said. “Somepony can be your teacher and your friend.”

“Well… I guess it’s not so different,” Luster admitted. “But I haven’t even written to them since I left Canterlot.”

“I’ve got an idea,” Phantasma said.

Luster Dawn knocked nervously on the door. “Professor Taxonomy?”

“Come in!”

Luster opened the door. The older mare behind the desk looked up, and her expression brightened when she saw who it was.

“Miss Dawn! I haven’t seen you in months!” Taxonomy got up to greet her, shaking her hoof. “My classes on Chimeric Biology haven’t been the same without you there.”

“They’re probably quieter,” Luster countered.

“Unfortunately, you’re right. Nopony asks questions, at least not intelligent ones. How have you been since your transfer to the School of Friendship?” She sat down, moving a stack of papers aside so she could give Luster all of her attention.

“Good. I’ve been making friends.”

“And uncovering cults.”

“Well, yeah,” Luster giggled. “But that was almost on accident.”

“Are your friends the ones waiting outside and pretending they’re not listening in?” Taxonomy asked.

Luster nodded.

“Invite them in, if you don’t mind them hearing stories about how you were my favorite student before you got stolen away by that other school.” She winked. “Maybe we can tell them about your third-year thesis about how a centaur’s digestive system works.”

“The paper would have been better if Princess Twilight had actually let me depetrify Tirek to ask him some questions.”

“Ooh!” Larrikin padded in. “I heard about Tirek! Why wouldn’t she depetrify him? I bet it would be really neat to talk to him!”

“Please, he was almost as bad as my creator,” Booky snorted. “And she was a total drama queen. Emphasis on queen. It’s a pun.”

“The focus on her paper was actually about how a centaur could possibly get enough calories when they have such a small mouth for a relatively large body mass,” Professor Taxonomy explained. “It was a fascinating paper.”

“And entirely unprovable unless somepony wants to make an expedition to Tirek’s homeland,” Luster sighed.

“Like I told you before, that’s the kind of thing you need grant money for. It means waiting until you’re at least a grad student.”

“I know, I know,” Luster said.

“Patience is important, and even when Princess Twilight was a student, she had to go through the regular grant process. I’d love to hear about what you’ve been studying since you left, though. How did you get to know a kelpie? They’re extraordinarily rare in this part of Equestria.”

Booky cleared her throat. “And alicorns.”

“This is Canterlot,” Taxonomy scoffed. “We’ve got alicorns.”

“We’ve got--” Booky repeated. She huffed. Somepony started laughing.

Everypony looked at the Spirit of Harmony, who was doubled up and laughing uncontrollably.

The train back to Ponyville chugged along, the low light of dusk turning the whole sky orange. Luster Dawn was almost pacing up and down the private car Captain Tempest had gotten for them, and insisted they use, and escorted them to, personally, to make sure they actually got onboard and left Canterlot. There were no actual warnings or threats, but her goodbyes were very pointed about how she was required to give a day’s warning before coming back.

“You’ll love Professor Taxonomy’s class,” Luster said, still excited. “I really hope Princess Twilight lets her teach at the school, even if it’s just a few classes! I learned so much about monster biology from her, and she always made it fun by bringing in live specimens for discussion.”

Phantasma raised her eyebrows. “She brought monsters into class?”

“It was safe, they were more or less tame,” Luster said. “It’s no different than how Miss Fluttershy sometimes brings animal friends, but instead of a bear or an albatross it’s more like… manticores.”

“Manticores sound fun,” Larrikin said.

The Spirit of Harmony agreed, nodding.

“They’re actually really interesting,” Luster said. “Did you know they can launch the stinger in their tail like an arrow? They don’t like doing it because it takes a long time to grow back, but a lot of ponies don’t know about it and it takes them by surprise.”

“The last surprise they ever have,” Booky quipped.

“Well, yeah. But the manticore gives plenty of warning before doing it, so really it’s almost the pony’s own fault.”

“Does anypony else smell smoke?” Larrikin asked.

“Come to think of it, yeah,” Luster said. “Do you think there’s a problem with the engine?”

“There better not be,” Booky growled. “I don’t want to be stuck on this stupid train all night if they messed up the boiler.”

“I don’t think it’s coming from the train,” Phantasma said, staring out the window as they came around the mountain bend. “Look!”

She pointed towards Ponyville. Everypony ran over to that side of the train car to look. If not for the orange light of the setting sun, they would have seen it even sooner. Flames rose into the sky from a massive fire, so bright the light reached all the way to the clouds above, flickering against the undersides of stormclouds even while smoke rose up to mix with them.

The Everfree Forest was on fire.

Chapter 7 - The Night of a Thousand Stone Knives

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“Alright you blinkin’ wing wankers, I can see yer both alike in a shockin’ total lack of dignity so it’s up t’ me to settle this afore one of you dregs decides to go all vampony diaries on the other an’ then I have to explain t’ the uplanders that yer not jes sun-drunk an’ addle-brained but a bunch of idiots who’re fightin’ over shockin’ nothin!”

Arteria put her hooves on her hips and flapped her wings slowly to stay balanced on her hind legs, glaring at the ponies in front of her. It wasn’t exactly a throne room, and it wasn’t exactly a courtroom, and it was a lot more like a few card tables, a half-dozen benches, and a high-backed dining room chair with a fancy blanket thrown over it, but it was where Arteria was holding her audiences.

“It ain’t nothin!” the first pony said. “This scavvo went and sold me burlap and tried to tell me to me face that it was the fine Saddle Arabian cotton that I asked for!”

“Oy, I told you a thousand times if I told you once, I gave you what me supplier sold me!”

“Hey! Both of you louts quiet down! I can’t hear meself think!” Arteria snapped. “You came t’ me because I’m the biggest baddest bat in town an’ that means yer gonna listen to what I have to say!”

The two stallions arguing quieted down immediately and looked at her. Arteria adjusted her glasses and sat back on her throne, such as it was.

“Now, you blokes need to recall that we’re guests here in town. I had t’ ask nice-like just to use this basement an’ I’m the bleedin’ nobility! So we’re gonna act prim and proper an’ not like thugs from out whoop whoop, you get me?”

They nodded, and Arteria pursed her lips seriously, nodding back.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do,” Arteria said. “First, you’re gonna give him back his burlap or whatever it is the bogan actually sold you.”

“Shockin’ right,” the first stallion grumbled.

“And you, you’re gonna find a way to get him what he actually wanted,” Arteria said. “And don’t go howlin’ about not knowin’ where t’ buy cotton, it’s th’ blinkin’ easiest fabric t’ get, and you can always go down t’ the Carousel Boutique and beg the nice mare there fer a bolt and an introduction to the Bruce she does her buyin’ from. Buy a hat while you’re there t’ be polite, they’re good fer keepin yer eyes off the sky.”

The second stallion looked shocked. “But Duchess--”

“Oy, I know, alright? It’s out in th’ open an only has th’ doors unlocked during th’ day,” Arteria said. “But that’s good practice. Let th’ ponies get a glance at you a bit, and make yerself a friend or two. I go out all th’ blinkin’ time while sun’s up an’ I ain’t ever fallen up too far to find my way back down, you grab me?”

The stallion nodded glumly.

“Now, let’s shake hooves and be friend-o again, eh?” Arteria said. “And we need to remember what’s really important. We’re four families but we’re all in this together, and this whole mess is really the fault of the Saddle Arabians since they sold you bunk goods.”

“Blinkin’ oath,” the second stallion agreed.

“Shockin’ foreigners, right?” the first one added, shaking his hoof.

“Glad that’s done,” Arteria sighed. “Any other business before I can actually go off an’ do somethin’ more important like shockin’ any other blinkin’ thing aside from makin’ you act your ages?”

“One thing, Ma’am,” a pony said, stepping out of the shadows, wearing a slim outfit of fungus leather dyed black with the venom of star spiders, so dark that the inky blackness made him like a hole in space.

He approached Arteria, bowed, and knelt before her, producing a scroll and holding it out to her.

“By the order of the four ruling families of Thestralia, I present this missive to you by hoof, knowing that I have personally given it to its intended recipient.”

Arteria looked at the blood-red wax seal.

“Bollocks,” she swore.

“Well you’re asking at the right time!” Starlight admitted. “Luster Dawn also asked for a few days off for a trip to Canterlot to deal with the whole…” she drew a circle in the air with her hoof. “You know. Having two miniature clones of Twilight. But they’re actually taller than me, so are they really miniature? It makes you think.”

“It’s sort of a family emergency sort of thing, kind of,” Arteria said.

Starlight’s expression fell. She leaned forward. “Is everything okay? I didn’t get a chance to meet your mom, but--”

“Nah, ain’t got nothin’ to do with me mam,” Arteria said. “That’s why it’s a sort of, kind of situation instead of a deffo situation. I got some dead-on devo news while adjucatin’ some things in an official way fer some of the new bats in town. Couldn’t refuse the delivery even if I wanted since I was there all Duchess-mode.”

She pulled out the sealed scroll she’d been given and gave it to Starlight.

“Let’s see…” Starlight unrolled it. She blinked a few times as she read over the extremely ornate letter, which was written in text that had serifs on its serifs just to look more official and baroque. The kind of thing that a bunch of criminals might come up with to make themselves look more respectable, as a random kind of thing to say.

“I’ve been declared Excommunicado Reggiano by the Quattro Formaggio,” Arteria said, as if the words were an explanation.

“And that means?” Starlight asked, putting the scroll down.

“The Quattro Formaggio, the Big Cheeses, the Four Founding Families, are th’ old nobility of Thestralia, and somepony don’t think I’m fit to rule,” Arteria explained. “Declaring me Excommunicado Reggiano means they’re kickin’ me out of bein’ next in line to the throne.”

“That doesn’t sound good,” Starlight muttered. “What can I do to help?”

“There’s a formal way to deal with this. I’ve got t’ write a letter to the sponsor of the Decliario Excommuncado an’ tell him I disagree with him,” Arteria said. “As long as it’s challenged properly it’ll get dropped faster ‘n a star spider pouncin’ on a rocksprite. Me mum will crush him in court, but I gotta respond t’ this meself to set it in motion.”

“You know, that’s a lot more sane and responsible than I was expecting,” Starlight said. “I’ve got a few hours, how about I help you write that letter? Then we can hoof-deliver it to the post office and--”

“Nah, that won’t do,” Arteria shook her head. “That’s why I need th’ time off. I gotta deliver it meself to make sure it gets into his hooves. He sent a courier what is sanctioned by the Thestralian Crown, but there ain’t no Officiatus Scribus in town and it’s all ritualized, see? Can’t send some unknown bloke or shiela to do me business. Delivering it meself shows that it’s important and means Count Xanadu is gonna have to say it to me face if he don’t back down after I say no.”

“So… you have to go back to Thestralia,” Starlight said.

“Right. As quickly as possible, what with th’ other issue.”

“And what’s the other issue?” Starlight asked.

The window shattered, and a black-shafted arrow appeared in her desk, vibrating with the kind of menace you needed to pay a premium to get.

“That kind,” Arteria sighed. “Blinkin’ guild assassins. Don’t bother lookin’ for him, that was a warnin’. He just wanted t’ let us know he was here an’ doin’ his job. Won’t try an’ kill me while I’m dealin’ with school business o’ course. That’d be shockin’ rude an’ unprofessional.”

“Of course it would be,” Starlight said, backing away from the window and lowering the shades with telekinesis. “You know what? I’ve got a really good idea. I’ll call the Royal Guard, and instead of worrying about deadly assassins apparently willing to target children, we’ll deal with it the responsible adult way.”

“By callin’ the blinkin’ coppers on ‘em?” Arteria gasped in horror. “You can’t do that! It goes against every part of th’ Thestralian Constitution!”

“And it’s definitely not against the law in Equestria to call the police on literal assassins! Guess where we are? Not Thestralia!”

“Just let me glean a chance t’ deal with this the right an’ proper way, sav?” Arteria begged. “I promise, nopony will get their knickers blasted by a shadow warrior.”

“I can’t believe you got Principal Starlight to agree to let you go,” Luster sighed.

“She deffo told me she was keen on this plan,” Arteria lied. “Prolly helps that I’m not goin’ at this alone. I got me somethin’ close t’ adult supervision.”

“Berlioz does not like having to be adult supervision,” the diamond dog said quietly.

“Don’t be such a baby pup about it!” Arteria snapped. “We’re just goin’ on a little bit of a train ride. Ibis can’t fit in th’ train car an’ everypony else is goin’ th’ other way.”

“If you just wait a little while, I can help you once I get back from Canterlot,” Luster said. “It might be a pretty short trip, and I doubt we’ll have any crazy disasters waiting for us. Things have been quiet lately.” She looked around suspiciously, then leaned in to whisper. “Too quiet, if you know what I mean.”

“Nah, my, uh…”

“Family emergency,” Berlioz supplied.

“Yeah, that. My family emergency is sort of something I need t’ take care of as quick as a hook-bird’s talon.”

“Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help,” Luster said. “You said it was a sudden illness?”

“Yeah, a real sick pony. I’m gonna go pay my respects, in case something unfortunate happens,” Arteria said. “I’m worried it could happen at any moment, if I don’t pay proper attention.”

“That’s really rough,” Luster said, giving her a quick hug. “Anyway, looks like your train got here first! I wish we were going in the same direction.”

Arteria looked past the trains and up to where Canterlot was perched, high above everything, as far from Thestralia as anything could be while still being connected to the ground.

“We’ll meet up after and you can tell me about the wuzza time you’re havin’ knockin horns with the Princess,” Arteria promised. “You got the bag, Berlioz?”

The diamond dog nodded.

Arteria nodded and waved to the rest of her friends. She gave them the kind of brave but stony smile that came when a pony was facing a terrible fate. Theirs, or somepony else’s.

She knew which option she preferred.

Arteria stepped into the train car and gave the other passengers a long look. She wasn’t a fan of trains to begin with and this wasn’t the best of times. There were six other ponies, variously reading, napping, or trying to shove their luggage under their seats.

“What’s wrong, pony?” Berlioz asked.

“Just keep yer snout sniffin’,” Arteria muttered. She made her way to an empty seat, giving the ponies she passed suspicious glances. Some of them looked up and quickly turned away, not meeting her gaze for more than a second. None of them said a word. She sat down, and Berlioz sat opposite her in the booth.

Berlioz caught her suspicion and looked around.

“Don’t make such a production out of it,” Arteria said.

“Does pony want Berlioz to look for trouble or not?”

Arteria shook her head. “It’ll come to us.”

“Berlioz does not like that pony lied to Principal Starlight.”

“She wanted t’ call the coppers down on this mess!” Arteria huffed. “That’s like tryin’ to send a mob o’ soldiers into a hoofball game t’ make sure th’ other team don’t score.”

“Berlioz does not think it is about fair play.”

“When yer a noble, tradition is important,” Arteria said. “It ain’t about what you can do, sometimes it’s about what yer willin’ to do and what you ain’t willin’ to do. Besides, she’ll be too busy t’ care. I made her Prime Minister while I was away. It’ll only be fer a few days, but that’s pretty average.”

The train started moving after a few minutes, and the tension seemed to drop down a few notches once it was underway.

The door to the next car opened, and a pony in the train company’s uniform stepped inside. Berlioz watched him for a long moment, until the unformed pony stepped over to the first passenger in the car.

“Ticket, please,” the conductor pony said, examining the pony’s ticket and using a hoof-punch to put a hole in it before moving on.

“Can pony explain plan, at least?” Berlioz sighed, turning back to Arteria.

Arteria stared out the window, not looking at him. Berlioz rubbed his snout, trying to decide how little he was really willing to let her go on her own.

“Tickets, please,” the conductor said, as he passed by. Berlioz reached for his, but before he could produce it, Arteria grabbed the pony’s hoof and yanked him down, slamming her forhead into his chin. A hidden knife clattered to the ground, and the conductor slumped down into a heap.

“Right,” Arteria said, standing up. “Let’s get this yakka done then.”

The other ponies all stood up, drawing clubs and blades from where they’d been concealing them. The train slipped into a tunnel, the light outside cutting off in an instant.

Berlioz, to his credit, got up almost instantly. He’d been raised among a people where violence could break out at any time, and he wasn’t afraid to show his fangs. When the sunlight vanished, his darkvision kicked in, and the train car faded back into visibility in shades of grey.

Arteria let out a high-pitched squeak and moved, going high. Berlioz trusted that the other ponies, mostly earth ponies with one unicorn at the back of the pack, weren’t going to be able to see him in the blackness. He grabbed the fallen conductor and threw him into the lead pony, the earth pony stumbling and falling, trying to get a grip on the limp form that had apparently come at him in the dark.

There was a flash of light as the unicorn in back cast a light spell, then snapped off a bolt of force. Arteria dropped down, and the attack went into the ceiling. The unicorn snapped off another without watching her angles, and hit a pony with a knife when Arteria ducked to the side to use him as cover.

Berlioz kicked the downed pony in the jaw as he ran past to tackle the earth pony who’d been concealing a nasty looking club with a rolled-up newspaper. They rolled on the floor, until Berlioz threw a knee in a sensitive spot and the stallion dropped the club. Berlioz picked it up and cracked it over the yelping pony’s head.

Arteria dashed to the other side of the car, from one shadow to the next, and the unicorn fired again. The thestral tripped up an assassin as she moved, again using him as cover. Before he’d even hit the floor, she jumped over his body and right at the unicorn. Her hoof smacked the caster’s horn just before she could cast another force bolt, and the backlash made the unicorn’s mane stand on end before she collapsed in a heap, the light cutting off.

There was a long moment of total darkness and quiet.

The train exited the tunnel, and sunlight poured in the windows. Arteria looked around at the fallen ponies.

“Oh Celestia,” whispered the one pony that hadn’t gotten out of his seat. He looked up at her with terror in his eyes. “Ma’am, I swear I’ll never do business with the Flim Flam Brothers again if you just let me go! I promise, I didn’t even know they meant they just cleaned the coal with soap when they said they had a clean coal engine!”

“You okay Berlioz?” Arteria asked.

“No, Berlioz is not okay,” the dog said. “Berlioz just had to fight off entire train car full of ponies!”

“Are you hurt, or just upset?”

Berlioz huffed. “Upset.”

“No drama, then. I know a good cure for upset.”

“Trust me, a little salt and a decent lemon to wash it down with and you’ll feel aces,” Arteria said, as they stepped off the train.

“What in tarnation is going on here?” a pony in uniform demanded. Arteria looked at the star on his chest and tensed up. She hated dealing with ponies that could arrest her. The assassins were easier. “Why are there a half-dozen unconscious ponies beaten half to pulp in a train comin’ into my town?”

“Sorry about the mess,” Arteria said. She reached into the bag she’d packed and took out six coins, tossing the silver disks through the air to the sheriff. He caught them on reflex and stared at them.

“What are these?” he asked, confused. “An’ why do they got little skulls on them?”

“Don’t worry sheriff, I know what’s going on,” the deputy said, coming up alongside him and taking the coins out of his hooves. “You have a nice day in Dodge Junction, Duchess. Let me know if you need anything special.”

Arteria nodded to him and walked past them, hearing a confused argument start in their wake.

“What just happened?” Berlioz rumbled.

“I paid for the trouble,” Arteria said. “Anyway, we’ll get somethin’ decent for tucker on afore we go downways. It’s a long trip and we’re on a time limit else I’d say we should shack up for the day and go when it ain’t so bright an’ unpleasant out.”

She adjusted her sunglasses and tried her best not to be aware of the yawning abyss hanging over them as they trotted down main street. A few ponies nodded to her as she passed.

Arteria pointed. “There’s a salt bar over on the corner.”

“Seems like nice town,” Berlioz said.

“It is, that’s why we’re not gonna cause ‘em more worries than we’re already bringin’ in on the wind with us,” Arteria said. They walked up to the front door, and a pony opened it just before she arrived, letting them walk in without even breaking stride.

An open table was waiting for them. Arteria sat down, and Berlioz followed her lead after a few moments of confusion.

“Why is it everypony seems to know about pony and her plans except me?” Berlioz asked.

“It’s a nobility thing,” Arteria said. “Reporters watchin’ you all th’ time and tellin’ tall tales about who’s snoggin’ who and which pony is secretly on a goon and cave lager diet.”

Glasses were put down in front of them, the rims lined with pink salt.

“What’s this?” Arteria asked, picking hers up to swirl the liquid inside around. “Watermelon juice and pink salt?”

“Compliments of the stallion at the bar,” the waitress said.

Arteria followed her gaze. There was a pony sitting at the bar looking back at her. He was navy blue, his short mane slicked back with some kind of pomade. The suit he was wearing was flat black, expertly tailored, and his cutie mark stood out against the darkness of his body, a heavy iron, the kind a pony would use to smooth out little wrinkles.

Then there was the contraption hanging at his belt.

“Oh,” Arteria said. “I should go have a chat.”

She stood up, and Berlioz saw at least a half-dozen ponies react to the motion, some of them obviously reaching towards weapons and trying to seem like they were just casually scratching an itch or taking a sip of their drinks.

“Hey there,” Arteria said, walking up with the drink in her hoof. “You’ve got decent taste.”

He nodded and smiled. “A pony should have something pleasant in their final hours.”

“I meant that,” she said, nodding towards his waist.

He glanced down.

“That’s a flying guillotine, isn’t it?” she asked. “I ain’t seen one in real life. Guessin’ since you’re carryin’ it around they actually work?”

“I’ll be happy to show you,” he said. “Once.”

“Most ponies only get a chance to see it that one time. Mind if we hold off on business so I can get a proper gander?”

“Please,” he said, with the enthusiasm of a hobbyist about to show off their expertise to someone who wouldn’t run away. moving his drink to make room and hefting the weapon onto the bartop. “Want me to walk you through it? Seeing as you’re so polite, I wouldn’t want to give you any awful surprises before we start.”

The flying guillotine looked like a combination of wide-brimmed hat and steel shield. Brass buttons and hidden slits promised that it was more than it seemed, and the long chain hanging from the peak of the weapon’s hatlike crown had wires running alongside it.

“That’d be aces,” Arteria said. “So the basics are that it kinda gets thrown on top of a pony’s head, yeah?”

“Just so,” the assassin said. He lifted it, pulling the chain a certain way, and a veil dropped down from inside the steel helm. The lower edge of it was a thick steel brim. “It goes on the pony’s head like a hat, then this veil drops down over them, disorienting them. See that steel along the bottom?”

Arteria nodded.

“Now you gotta be careful with that, because that’s where the magic happens. I pull this chain the other way, and this happens--”

He tugged, and thin blades irised out, snapping shut like a maw around what would be the hypothetical victim’s neck.

“Nasty,” Arteria said.

“It’s a quick death, pretty painless for everypony involved,” the assassin said. “Merciful, really.”

“Ain’t much use in a fight, though, unless you got the drop on the other pony,” Arteria said. “May I?” she reached for it, and the assassin nodded. “Oh, I see. There’s more blades around the edge that snap out, huh?”

“And the steel is tough enough to block attacks without damaging the mechanism,” the assassin said.

“Still seems tough to use. Gotta get it right over the pony’s head, and even usin’ it as a blade is awkward on account of not havin’ a grip unlike a proper knife. Bet you needed a mess of trainin’ to get it done at all the intended way. What I’d do is grab it and smack them as hard as I could over the head like this--”

There was a dull thud as she swung it into the stallion’s face as hard as she could. He fell to the ground, and Arteria dropped the flying guillotine. She looked at him, nudged him with her hoof, then got up and cracked a barstool over his prone form just to be sure.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” she said, flipping two silver coins to the bartender. “For the noise and the cleanup.”

“Of course, Duchess,” the bartender said. “Would you like something to eat?”

“That’d be lovely. Bagged lunches, though. Looks like I’ve got places to be and I’m not terrible popular in town at the moment.”

“Can’t this thing go any faster?” Arteria sighed, munching on an apple and staring at the train tracks slowly disappearing under the squeaking hoof-cranked (or, in this case, paw-cranked) cart she was riding on.

“Would go faster if pony would help,” Berlioz said.

“Okay, we’ve been over this,” Arteria said. “Yer about ten times stronger’n me and when I tried to help - because I did blinkin try - all I did was throw off yer rhythm an’ you told me t’ stop. It ain’t cause I’m a lazy big-bottomed bat sittin’ on her flank all day.”

Berlioz grunted. It was true.

“Now you wanted t’ be keen on m’ plan, yeah?” Arteria asked. “So the basics of the basics is this - we need t’ get to Cranberry Canyon. That’s a shockin’ long trip on hoof the way I did it the first time, but Mum has been makin’ it a little easier fer expatriates who want t’ go t’ Equestria for a while. If we’re lucky bongos we’ll be there in no time flat. If not…”

“Longer trip?”

“If not, we’ll have t’ find a way to cheat. Time limits is time limits, you grok? Gotta get there before midday on the Night of a Thousand Stone Knives.”

“...which is…?”

“Two days from now,” Arteria said. “Blinkin’ Baron Xanadu only gave the minimum buckin’ notice fer me t’ respond. Bet he’s countin’ on me not makin’ it at all.”

“Ponies ahead,” Berlioz said.

Arteria looked up, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sun. “Yep. Slow down a bit until we get to them, but don’t stop yet. Might be trouble, might not be.”

Berlioz nodded, not touching the brake but slowing his pace with the cart.

“Duchess!” The lead pony waved, taking off his hat to press it to his chest in salute. “The mine is just up ahead.”

“Mine?” Berlioz asked.

“Gotta go down t’ get t’ the land down under,” Arteria explained. “Mum bought an old mine and she’s been turnin’ it into the topside hub of a road to Cranberry Canyon.”

“The Daikon family is well-respected here,” the lead pony said. “That’s why we know the young Duchess, and why Thestralian bits are good here. I’m the mine manager.”

“Think I can hire on a few of yer best t’ help get us to the mine?” Arteria asked. “My pup here’s startin’ t’ get tired with this pushcart.” She held up a few silver bits.

“Course, Ma’am. It’d be our pleasure.”

Berlioz folded his arms as they walked into the mine. “So pony owns this mine?”

“Me mum owns the mine,” Arteria corrected. “Which ain’t the same thing. Specially not with th’ writ of Excommunicado still bein’ unchallenged until I deliver my reply. My bits are as good as anypony’s and they don’t want me mum upset, but I can’t really pull rank around here.”

The mine manager led them through the entrance, which was still under construction but was already looking more like a Manehattan subway station than a place to pull ore out of the earth.

“Nothing is up and running yet, but it’s comin’ along nicely,” the manager said. “We’re planning on a narrow gauge light rail type of thing, still gettin th’ details done on that. Somethin’ that can run on the existing minecart rails is what we’re hopin’ for, even if we do have to expand the tunnel to fit.”

“So there ain’t a train yet?” Arteria asked.

“Not for another year, at least.”

“There goes th’ easy way.”

The path slowly eased down as they trotted, the old minecart rails sitting at odd angles and misaligned this far down in the depths. They finally ended, extra rails sitting on the side and unused, at a steel gate, bars driven into the stone like the wall of a prison cell.

“This is as far as development has gotten. From here, it’s all wild Underdark,” the mine manager said.

“And it’s dangerous to go unarmed,” said a voice from above. Two batponies in dark purple armor dropped down in front of them. Berlioz instinctively started to move, but Arteria held up a wing and shook her head.

“They’re coppers. So I won’t say it’s entirely okay, but I don’t think they’re here t’ drag us back to Ponyville by our ears.”

“Duchess, it’s good to see you,” the Lunar Guard said, both of them saluting. “Don’t worry, my first oaths are to Thestralia, and as far as I know, no orders have actually come down from the top about you yet.”

“Guess we’re movin’ faster’n the rumors,” Arteria said, smiling. She nodded and they returned to being at ease.

“The mine manager is correct, though,” the second guard said. He pointed to the steel gate. “It’s wild Underdark out there. I’m not sure I’m comfortable letting you go like this.”

“Thought about bringin’ along the flyin’ guillotine th’ assassin in th’ bar had, but figured I was more likely to hurt myself than anypony else.”

“A flying guillotine?” the guard asked, ears perking up. “I haven’t seen one of those in years! Was it the kind with a backup loop in case the first breaks?”

The first guard sighed and held up a hoof. “We’ll go find out ourselves. That kind of weapon is illegal in Equestria and we’ll need to confiscate it. Is there anything else we can help you with, Duchess?”

“Just makin’ a social visit,” Arteria said. “Don’t suppose you know the fastest route down to the Canyon?”

“If you want to get there by the Night of a Thousand Stone Knives, the regular route won’t work,” the guard said. “The only bats who can travel that fast are the Viatorem Vespertilio.”

“The gypsies,” Arteria sighed.

“They don’t like being called that,” the guard cautioned. “If you’re going to ask them for a favor, it would be wise to be polite.”

“Yeah, yer right.” Arteria nodded down into the mine. “Is there an encampment nearby?”

They heard the music a mile away, echoing through the half-hewn, half-natural caverns. It almost repeated, but never quite perfectly, overlapping melodies like a music box and guitar playing very nearly the same tune. Jazz in shades of accordion and fiddle.

Berlioz was assaulted by light and sound when he moved the threadbare rug hung as a door across the cavern entrance. Inside, carts and folding furniture surrounded a glowing crystal as bright as a bonfire, and more rugs, most of them in the same ancient and worn condition as the one he’d moved, covered almost every inch of the stone floor. Thestrals of every age glanced up from their cooking, dancing, and talking to see him, then went back to what they were doing like he was expected.

Berlioz gave Arteria a questioning look, and she nodded and stepped inside.

The crowd parted as they approached, forming a living hallway that led right to a pony kneeling down and petting something that looked like a cross between a brightly-colored chicken and a dragon. He stood up to face them and smiled.

“As I live and breathe!” he said.

The thestral was old, his colors faded to that kind of grey that wasn’t deliberate like charcoal or silver but had faded over decades from something vibrant, something that could just barely be glimpsed at the edge of one’s vision but was only a shadow now, a contrast of grey against grey. He smiled, showing fangs, one of them gleaming gold.

“Look at this, everypony! The young Duchess, come to my court when I’m not yet allowed in hers,” the old bat said. “You’re not as tall as I expected for somepony with so many expectations and responsibilities heaped on their shoulders. You’ll notice we rolled out the red carpet for you. And a few blue ones to fill in the gaps, but I’m sure you’ll forgive us.”

Arteria bristled a little, but kept her reaction in check.

“I do like the sunglasses,” the old bat said, motioning to them. “They look good on you. That’s some style, wearing them underground at night! You must have inherited that from your mother, but she’d have gone with more steel and sharper edges.”

“I need your help,” Arteria said, trying to stay polite.

“Well of course, Duchess Daikon. Whatever you want, Duchess Daikon. Do you want me to get you a wing massage and a cup of toadstool tea too?” the thestral laughed. “Do you even know who I am?”

“Pretty sure yer the King of No Kingdom, the Lord of Empty Spaces, the Tamer of Hook-Birds.”

“Those are all titles I possess, though I think the one I’m most fond of is grandfather -- but please don’t call me that, I don’t want to get that entangled with the Quattro Formaggio. I’d prefer to keep it purely to business. My friends call me Amigo, and since I’d like to be your friend, Duchess, I’ll let you call me that too.”

“Fine… Amigo,” Arteria said, stumbling over the word.

“Perfect! Now, I already know what favor you want, because there aren’t many things I can grant that would send a pony of your social stature kneeling before me and begging for a favor.” He paused. “Actually, you’re not kneeling. Change that and do a little begging and I might just be able to help out.”

Arteria took a deep, annoyed breath and knelt down. “Please. I need your help. I need to get to Cranberry Canyon.”

“And you need to get there on a strict time limit. Midday on the Night of a Thousand Stone Knives and unless I’m mistaken we’re already on the eve! That’s going to take some doing to get you there on time. So much doing that even though I’d normally go and help you out of the goodness of my heart, I’ll have to refuse.”

Arteria shot to her hooves. “What?! But--”

“Unless,” the King interrupted. He waited for her to quiet before continuing. “Unless you do a little favor for me. Nothing dangerous, nothing difficult, just the kind of thing you happen to be in a position to help with.”

“What’s that?”

“I want you, on your authority as Duchess, to open up Ponyville to settling by the Viatorem Vespertilio. We might wander around, but there are always a few of us that want to put down roots, and that seems like a fine town, especially if the leadership owes us a few favors.”

“Ain’t gonna be me in charge of squat unless I get to the Canyon in time,” Arteria pointed out.

“Consider it an additional incentive for me to get you there,” Amigo said, with a wide grin, showing even more gold fangs. “Come on. Let’s pick you out a ride. We’ll need a big one for your friend.”

“A big what?” Berlioz asked.

“These are blinkin’ hook-birds!” Arteria said with growing horror. “I ain’t ridin’ on no shockin hook-bird! We fought a war against these things!”

“Don’t worry, they don’t hold grudges,” Amigo said, patting one of the herd on the side. The hook-birds were huge creatures, much larger than the pet-sized one he’d been lavishing with attention before. Each of them looked like they could kill a pony, and would relish tearing them open with the scimitar-like blades on their talons.

“That ain’t what I meant and you know it!” Arteria said. She watched with growing horror as some of the King’s relatives or servants - she wasn’t sure which they were or if there was a distinction - started belting saddles and blankets to three of the monsters.

“The hook-birds can phase through stone,” Amigo noted. “It’s one reason fighting them was so difficult. It’s also the reason we need to ride them if we’re going to get where you want to go in time for what you want to do.”

“Phase through stone?” Berlioz asked.

“That’s right,” Amigo said. “It makes building a pen for them an interesting challenge! However, it also makes them incredibly useful, because if we’re riding them we get to come along. As long as they’re not annoyed with you, so you should try and make friends.”

Arteria huffed. “I ain’t makin’ friends with no monsters.”

“We can go another way, but following the normal road to Cranberry Canyon might take a week with the winding trail we’d need to use. But as the hook-birds fly, we’ll be there with hours to spare.”

“Hours?” Berlioz asked. It was cutting it close.

“Unless you can change the flow of time, teleport, or change the rules of the Quattro Formaggio, a few hours to spare is the best anypony can do.” Amigo shrugged. “I’m happy to entertain other options should you think of any. The wisdom of the Diamond Dogs is greatly respected among my people.”

“Don’t let him butter ya up like a mushroom steak,” Arteria warned, struggling her way into the saddle on the hook-bird’s back and trying to get her back hooves into the recessed stirrups.

“I apologize,” Amigo said. “I didn’t mean to sound like I was flirting with your beau.”

“W-what?! How dare you--”

“Careful, you don’t want to be that tense while you’re riding her,” Amigo said. “Hook-birds are sensitive creatures, beautiful really. And we did lose a war to them, so we should be polite.”

“It was a tie!” Arteria snapped. “We didn’t lose!”

“Mm,” Amigo tilted his head before climbing on his own mount, an albino hook-bird with a saddle blanket showing every color of the rainbow. “They’re not so sure about that, and since I have to ask them for favors I’m willing to eat my slice of humble pie.”

“Just tell me what we have to do t’ get where we’re going.”

“We’ll have to walk one of the dark paths,” Amigo said. “A way where one step in the wrong direction will mean you’re lost forever. A way that can’t be found on any map.”

“What does that mean?” Berlioz asked, as he tried to saddle himself up on the improvised harness the thestrals had made for him. The King’s helpers, well, helped, soothing the animal while he found his balance and adjusting straps to even out his weight.

“It means you have to trust your steed as much as you trust me.”

Arteria snorted. “Not far then.”

Amigo looked at Arteria and Berlioz, then tugged on his reins.

“Unfortunately we don’t really have time to get you riding lessons. I’ll be leading the way on my cute little girl, and your birds will follow her. She’s their big momma hen, after all.” He patted her neck and made a soft cooing noise. The hook-bird trilled, obviously pleased. “Let’s ride!”

“I’m not--” Arteria started, still trying to get one back hoof in place. The King obviously knew it and ignored her, the birds bolting. The white hen keeping her head low like a racing pegasus fighting against the wind. The two others followed in her wake, instinctively moving in single file and stepping where she stepped, claws tapping and scraping against the rock.

The hook-birds ran at full speed, right towards the granite wall. Any other animal would have slowed, hesitated as they sprinted full-tilt at the stone, but they didn’t even seem to notice it was there. Berlioz’s instincts screamed at him like he was on the back of a runaway wagon with no brakes and he held a paw in front of his face in anticipation of the crash and--

He was plunged into airless darkness, suddenly blind, darkvision simply gone along with his ability to breathe. Berlioz could hear, but the sound was strange and distorted and only half-there like he’d been swimming and hadn’t gotten the water out of his ears. His heart thudded in his chest, lungs burning without air. There was no end to it, no reprieve.

And then it was over, and he burst back into the open. Berlioz gasped for breath, and saw Arteria doing the same.

“What the shocking shock was that shocking thing?!” Arteria demanded.

“Language, Duchess, please,” Amigo said, obviously amused. “The first time is always a surprise. Did I forget to mention you can’t breathe while you’re in the stone? That’s one reason only we walk these paths -- if you don’t know exactly where you’re going, you might end up drowning in rock, lost forever.”

“You should have warned us!” Arteria spat.

“And miss your wonderful reaction?” Amigo laughed. “It was only a short hop, there was no real danger. Besides, we’re well on our way. Welcome, lady and gentledog, to the Dark Path of the Dragon’s Tail. How does it feel to tickle the dragon’s tail?”

“Feels like pony enjoys taunting us,” Berlioz grunted.

“We all have our flaws,” Amigo said.

They traveled for a while, and while Arteria would have preferred it to be in uncomfortable silence, instead the King seemed to have an endless supply of stories and words of wisdom.

“...of course there are endless theories about how Thestralia actually came to be,” the King said. “There were stories for longer than there have been ponies living here, but it’s only in the last few centuries that we really started to understand how unusual it all is. Interconnected caves going down miles, under almost this whole continent, reaching out even under the sea?”

“Mm. Caves are made by flowing water,” Berlioz offered. “Water flowed, then drained away.”

“Wise words, my friend, but where did the water all go? There are seas in the depths, to be sure, but they’re still and dark and foul. One story I heard is that the whole world is built on the foundations of another. According to some old traditions, the world has ended several times before. Each one faded into the dreams of the next, like an echo of notes in a song. Our world will someday end the same way, simply fading away and giving birth to the next.”

“I ain’t keen on that,” Arteria said. “If the world was gonna end, it should go out fightin’, not just fadin’ away. Even if there ain’t nopony left to remember you, if you don’t put up a fight then it means you weren’t tryin’. You gotta do it fer yourself even when nopony else can hear. That’s what it means t’ live.”

“Well that’s an unexpected bit of philosophy from our Duchess,” Amigo said. “Of course you aren’t the type to take things lying down, or else you’d have tried to challenge the Declario Excommunicado some other way than facing it head on.”

“There ain’t no other way.”

“I admit as an outsider I am not versed in the customs of the court except in the most general terms, but you could have simply had a notary seal and sign the date and time of your reply, could you not?”

“Sure, an’ then have t’ deal with assassins anyway,” Arteria said. “Th’ laws were written when the furthest you’d have t’ go is from one end of Cranberry Canyon t’ th’ other. A few minutes walkin’ down th’ street t’ punch some bloke in the snout fer tryin’ t’ kick you out of th’ club.”

“Speaking of those esteemed hired killers, I believe we have company,” Amigo said. He motioned ahead of us. A narrow bridge of rock formed from a broken stalagmite crossed over a crack in the stone that echoed like it reached all the way to the black heart of the world. A batpony sat on it, drinking and obviously waiting for something. There weren’t a lot of somethings that he could be waiting for, of course. “Unfortunately dealing with assassins wasn’t part of our deal, so if you’d go have a chat with him?”

“If I knew I’d have to shockin’ do everything myself…” Arteria groaned, getting off the hook-bird and stretching before trotting over to the other thestral.

The thestral had a wild shock of blue for her mane. She glanced at Arteria as she approached but didn’t make an effort to get up until she got closer, standing up and picking up a burlap bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she stelled over to greet Arteria.

“Guess you’re out here to be a sleeping royal guard to bump our hooves?” Arteria asked.

“I mean I could be here just cause it’s a quiet place to drink,” the other thestral countered. “But yeah, nah. I’m here on business.” She held up the bottle she’d been swigging from. “You want a drink?”

“Pretty sure it’s a bad idea to take a drink from an assassin about their business,” Arteria said. She took it from the other pony anyway, sniffing at it and recoiling in disgust. “How much poison is in this bottle?”

“You know I’m not entirely sure,” the other thestral said, grinning. “Probably a lot. It was worth a try, I figure. If you’re dumb enough t’ take the drink, you deserve it.”

Arteria nodded. “Fair dinkum. If you really want to buy me a drink do it after the contract is closed.” She put the bottle down to the side.

“Ah well that could be a problem given what it takes to close the contract,” the assassin said. She held out her hoof. “I’m Mad Dame Mortem. Pleasure. On my honor as a low-life killer, the hoofshake isn’t a trick.”

“You know I think I’ve heard that name before,” Arteria said. She shook the mare’s hoof carefully. “You wouldn’t happen to be a knight errant, would you?”

“Oho, even the Duchess has heard of me!” Mortem’s grin grew even wider. “Then you know I have the right to challenge you to single combat. One nob to another.”

Arteria nodded. “You can.”

“Now I reckon you’re on a tight time limit, and I just want this to be a fair shot instead of being the kind of cold bitch that’d just waste your time so you arrive late, yeah? So let’s skip the formalities and get right down to things.”

Mortem nodded and opened the burlap bag she’d been carrying, spilling the contents out. There were two vests and two long items that could, broadly speaking, be called weapons if one was being generous.

“Gladio Thestralia, huh?” Arteria asked.

“Yep, wing binders an’ pugil sticks,” Mortem smiled. “No head protection, seeing how we’re fighting to the death and all.”

Arteria looked over the side. It was a long way down.

“You want red or blue?” she asked.

“Ah, well, that’s on you, love,” Mortem said. “If I picked first somepony could claim the gear was rigged from the start. It’s your choice first.”

“I’ll take red, then,” Arteria said, grabbing the bright vest and starting to slip it on. “Gotta warn you, I ain’t done this in a stalag’s age. I’m more rust than steel at this point.”

“Are you trying to get me to take it easy on you?”

“It’d be kind of you not to immediately toss me off the side, is all I’m sayin’,” Arteria shrugged. “Let me get a good show in at least.”

“Don’t wanna look bad in front of your pup, huh?” the assassin smiled. “I can respect that. I’m not gonna go easy on you, but I can respect it.”

“What are ponies doing?” Berlioz rumbled, as the two squared off.

“Gladio Thestralia is an ancient dueling code,” Amigo explained. “The combatants face each other in a convenient and precarious place, the more dangerous the better. They must face each other in front of witnesses, as you and I are providing, and with wing binders on and pugil sticks in hoof they attempt to knock each other to an uncertain death.”

“Uncertain?”

“It’s the only thing worse than knowing for sure,” Amigo said.

Arteria raised her stick. Mortem nodded to her, raising hers in salute. They crossed staves, tapping each other in a ritual hoofshake. It could almost have been a ritual dance as they slowly worked up to speed, batting at each other with cautious, leading strikes, feeling each other out.

Then Arteria ducked down, grabbed the forgotten bottle of probably-poisoned grog Mortem had offered her, and threw it right at the surprised assassin. The bottle cracked open, splashing her. Arteria used the confusion to just rush her and shove Mortem off the edge.

“Cheating is also traditional,” Amigo said happily. “On both sides, this time.”

Mortem’s wing binders fell away from some hidden release, and she took wing, flapping hard and making a rude gesture at Arteria as she flew out of sight.

“She’ll have t’ go take care of that toxic skunk before she can even think of coming back,” Arteria said, tossing her borrowed equipment down into the pit. “Should be too much time fer her to try anything else.”

“Shall we move on?” Amigo asked. “It’s not much further.”

“Good,” Arteria said. “An’ take us a way that don’t have any assassins. I ain’t stupid enough t’ think she just happened to be here.”

Amigo just laughed and led the hook-birds on.

“Behold!” the King said, grandly gesturing. “Cranberry Canyon!”

It was exactly as Arteria had left it, a grandly lit rift in the rock, the biggest open space in Thestralia, going all the way down to the Deep Under and nearly to the surface. It had been carved open millions of years ago by rivers and geology and now it was the peak of civilization.

“Is that a Hayburger Princess?” Berlioz asked, confused, as he slipped off the hook-bird’s back. The city hung along the two walls, bridges crossing between the two sides at dozens of levels, like taking Manehattan and tilting it until it was vertical, then turning the cross-streets into delicate bridges the glittered in the neon lights and darkness.

“Nah, mate. It’s a Hungry Bat’s. Completely the same but totally different.” Arteria patted him on the back. They’d stepped out of the stone in a rather inconspicuous spot, a wide alleyway between two buildings.

“I wish you luck,” Amigo said. “And remember our deal. I will.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Arteria sighed. “Just be careful y’ don’t cause a riot with those beasts on your way out. Technically an exile like you ain’t even supposed to be in the city.”

“Don’t worry,” Amigo said. “I’ve got lots of friends.”

He smiled and knocked on the door of the building next to them, and the pony inside welcomed him in out of the night. A moment later a massive cargo door opened, and two foals dressed in bright, multi-colored rags led the hook-birds inside, chittering at them happily like they were family pets.

The doors closed, and Arteria and Berlioz were left alone in the alleyway.

“Me mum would go postal if she knew about the gypsies living here - nah, worse than that, she’d go one of them private delivery places that takes yer package and loses it for a month then lets the local rugby team have a go with it as a ball for a season before delivering what’s left to the wrong house.”

“Pony’s metaphors are too extended.”

“Everyone’s a critic.”

A black crossbow bolt hit the dirt just in front of her hooves.

“Oh right,” Arteria sighed. “Assassins. Cheese it!”

She ran. Berlioz ran after her. He was starting to feel like he was there to stay firmly behind her and fill up the space where a pony with a knife could have been.

They dashed out onto the street, as busy as any road in Canterlot. Most of the thestrals there didn’t give them a second look, but a few glanced just a little too long, Berlioz caught the flash of metal here and there in the surging crowd. Arteria jumped, flying up above a passing cart full of cave cabbages, and came down on top of a pony hiding in its shadow, knocking a compact crossbow to the ground.

“We have t’ make it to the palace,” Arteria said. “It ain’t far, but-- oh, you noticed.”

Berlioz nodded, shaking the pony he was holding by the scruff of the neck. The cart driver had grabbed a club from among the pale cabbages the moment Arteria looked distracted. The other thestrals just walked around them, not even paying attention to the assault going on in front of them.

“Ponies don’t care about assassins?” Berlioz asked.

“It’s what we got instead of coppers,” Arteria said, giving the pony she’d landed on one more good kick. “Decided it works better t’ have a justice system instead of a legal system.”

Berlioz tossed the pony he was holding away. Arteria started walking again, casting a suspicious glance at ponies carving up cave fish.

“What’s the difference?”

“If things are legal and not just, somepony’s gettin’ worked over by the law, and it’s usually th’ little guy. We all come from ponies that got banished fer no good reason at all--” she ducked as a filleting knife just barely missed her ears, the sushi chefs grabbing cleavers and giving chase. “--and if somethin’s just you should change the law to match anyway! Just run fer it, we’re only a few blocks away!”

Arteria put her head down and bolted, but Berlioz noticed she didn’t try to put people between herself and the killers. No pony shields, no innocents in danger. Whoever had been sniping them from the rooftops took another shot, and this time it wasn’t a warning. Arteria dodged it at the last second, and Berlioz saw black-cloaked ponies dropping down from above.

“Over there!” Arteria shouted, pointing to the carved stone face of the palace, chiseled out of the rock and extending up and down until its extremities vanished in the dark.

Berlioz ducked under a spinning triple-pointed blade thrown by somepony behind him. Arteria skidded on her hooves, sliding on the damp rock. She threw herself to the ground, the whole city seeming to lunge at that last moment.

Arteria rolled to a stop at the base of the stairs. Berlioz landed next to her with a yelp.

A black arrow streaked through the air towards her.

And stopped, plucked from its path by a deft hoof.

“Please, Ladies, Gentlestallions, you know the rules,” said a pony in a very well-tailored black suit. “There is no business on these grounds.”

The assassins groaned and lowered their weapons, sounding like foals that had been caught by their parents playing instead of doing real work. They shuffled off back to whatever they were doing before trying to kill Arteria, some of them shooting her looks of deep annoyance.

“Let me help you up,” the stallion said. “It’s been too long, my dear.”

“Who is this?” Berlioz asked, when the stallion helped him up as well.

“Berlioz, meet the Master Officiado of the Assassins’s Guild. Blackhoof Daikon.”

“Nice to meet you,” the well-dressed thestral said, shaking Berlioz’s hoof.

“He’s me dad,” Arteria said. Berlioz flinched, just a little.

“One of them, anyway,” he specified, smiling. “I like to think I’m her favorite, though. Don’t let her know I told you this, but she used to pretend to be an assassin when she was growing up and she’d pounce on all the maids. It was good fun.”

“Stretchin’ that favorite pretty far with the whole ‘sending every assassin in the guild after me’ bit,” Arteria said grumpily.

“A legitimate contract is a legitimate contract, you know that,” Blackhoof said. “I can’t refuse as long as it’s all done properly. And I note you made it here safely. Do you know why?”

“...Because I’m shockin’ amazing?” Arteria guessed.

“Because none of the assassins with any real talent would take a contract they knew was going to upset me,” Blackhoof said. “It’s mostly kids looking to make a name for themselves or killers who’ve already gotten a written warning in their file.”

“I am shockin’ amazing though,” Arteria mumbled.

“Yes you are, my little ankle-biter,” Blackhoof said, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. “Now let’s get inside. You’ve made it with a little time to spare. I’m impressed.”

Berlioz watched them step inside the richly-appointed palace, servants holding the doors for them. He rubbed his snout, feeling his headache getting worse and worse.

“In here,” Blackhoof said, ushering them into a side room. “Close the door behind you, if you would be so kind.”

Berlioz quietly closed the doors, looking at the maids and butlers escorting well-appointed ponies somewhere, as if they might have hidden knives. This was probably a safe bet because more than one hadn’t bothered hiding the knives and were just carrying them openly in orante sheathes.

“Welcome to the Daikon family quarters,” Blackhoof said. “Everypony else is already at the ball, but you’ll be arriving exactly on time to be fashionably late.”

Berlioz looked around. It was a huge circular space, with windows and ledges going up with no obvious way to reach them without wings.

“Hey, Berl, check this out!” Arteria said, grinning. “This is Black Bread Nelly’s Armor!”

Berlioz walked over to her. She was looking up at a small set of armor made of hammered and roughly shaped plates of black metal.

“She made it outta a broken stove and some bits and bobs,” Arteria said. “Saved hundreds of ponies. Then she robbed ‘em, but she saved ‘em first.”

“I have something perhaps better fitting for the night over here,” Blackhoof said. He stepped out of the way when Arteria and Berlioz looked to reveal two maids, one holding a dress and the other a suit. “If you’ll be going to the ball, you’ll need something appropriate to wear.”

Berlioz walked over and touched the suit gingerly. It was black, naturally, with a silk lining dyed in an elaborate spiderweb pattern. It was also cut and styled for a diamond dog, not a pony.

“To soothe your paranoia, no, we weren’t entirely sure who would arrive with Arteria,” Blackhoof said. “There’s a closet down the hall with two dresses for very differently sized unicorns, something more waterproof and adjustable for a kelpie, and a chest with a few accessories for a sphinx.”

“Cute,” Arteria said. “Don’t suppose you boys’d give me a bit of a show of silence an’ privacy so I can get changed?”

Berlioz knew better than to point out that she was naked nearly all the time and he had no idea why ponies insisted on privacy for dressing. It was one of those things you just learned to stop asking questions about, for the same reason you didn’t ask why it wasn’t good to walk in on them in the shower when you’d already seen them swimming in the pool.

He took the suit into the other room, the maid following because the help didn’t count as invading privacy, especially when they might need to help explain how cufflinks worked. Blackhoof went with them.

Arteria waited for them to leave, then looked at her own dress. It was sleek, in that kind of military fashion her mother liked. With a little more starch it would be decent armor. She started to put it on, then hesitated.

“Hey, gimme a hoof with something,” she said to the maid.

It reminded Berlioz of the Grand Galloping Gala, except with considerably darker colors and cobwebs as a fashion choice instead of a terrible housecleaning error. A live band was hanging from the ceiling and playing a light sonata while inverted, which he suspected was much more difficult than if they’d taken up the floor space. He looked across the crowd through the thin curtains at the entrance. It seemed like everypony had already arrived and they were busy mingling with each other in knots and circles that moved enough he found it difficult to really search the crowd.

“How will pony find pony she’s looking for?” Berlioz whispered.

“Watch this,” Arteria said, stepping out into the open.

“Presenting Duchess Arteria Carpals Daikon,” a herald at the door shouted over the conversations and music. A few ponies turned to look, nodding greetings or looking in surprise, and from one corner of the room Arteria heard what she wanted to hear - somepony swearing softly in surprise.

“Gotcha,” she whispered. She cleared her throat to address the room, her accent changing. “I apologize for the late arrival. I wasn’t sure I would be arriving at all, but it seems I’m just in time.”

She pranced lightly down the steps to the floor, the players resuming their music and conversations carrying on. Berlioz followed her, drawing almost as many eyes as she did. Ponies greeted her here and there, and Arteria returned the greetings as she made her way towards somepony who was trying to inconspicuously escape from the room.

“Count Xanadu,” she said, when she had gotten right behind the older, overweight bat. He flinched. “Just the pony I was looking for.”

“Is that so?” he asked, gritting his fangs and turning with a false smile.

“Yes. I received your Declario Excommunicato and, despite the extremely short time I had to journey almost halfway across Equestria and Thestralia to get here, I have arrived to give you my formal reply, as is tradition.”

“As is tradition,” he growled.

Arteria pulled a sealed scroll from her dress and tossed it to him. He caught it, fumbling for a moment before opening it up.

“What is this?” he asked.

“If you’re having problems reading, I can help you,” Arteria said. “It says you can get stuffed, you bulbous idiotic mule.” She said it so pleasantly it almost didn’t sound like an insult. “And if you don’t like that, I’m telling you personally to wing off down to Tartarus and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“You… you…!”

“In case it’s not clear, it’s my official writ of refusal,” Arteria clarified. “Delivered in front of witnesses, before the deadline.”

Count Xanadu threw down the scroll. “I won’t accept this! It’s an insult! It’s--”

“It’s what you get, and you get what you bucking deserve!” Arteria shouted. “If you wanna have a go we can take this outside and I’ll buck yer flank so hard your cutie mark will be on your shockin’ forehead!”

Xanadu narrowed his eyes. “I accept.”

“I-- what?”

“I’ll accept a duel,” he sald, the edges of his thin lips curling into a smile. “But not some crude trading of blows. We will duel like gentleponies.”

He produced a handkerchief, holding it out to Arteria.

“I think I know this dance,” Arteria said. She took one corner. The music changed at a gesture from her, going from light ballroom music to quick, sharper notes. It was like a tango played with a knife held to the throat of the instruments.

“What are ponies doing?” Berlioz asked, as the two, each holding one corner of the cloth, stepped into the center of the dance floor.

“It’s a traditional dueling method during a ball,” a mare whispered.

The stallion next to her nodded. “They each hold onto one corner of a cloth and try to pull it from the other pony’s grasp,” he added. “They can’t touch each other, but they can hold onto the cloth any way they want and move as much as they like.”

“Of course, to have real dignity about it, they shouldn’t hold on too tightly,” the mare said. “It’s unsightly to be seen trying too hard.”

The dance started. Arteria and Xanadu bowed to each other politely, then started circling, not quite holding hooves as they held the cloth between them. The silk square wasn’t even taut, the two just watching each other.

Xanadu made the first movement, a sudden spin, a twist of the wrist as he moved with the music. Arteria deftly matched it, twirling on one hoof like a ballerina.

The ponies around Berlioz nodded in approval.

The two moved with the beat, one sending an attack, then the other. Arteria was lighter on her hooves, several times taking to the air entirely to keep her grip at odd angles when Xanadu tried to pull it from her with his greater strength.

It was clear from the start that she had far more grace. Increasingly, Count Xanadu’s attacks were just rough tugs and pulls, once even using both hooves to try and yank it away from her iron grip.

Arteria moved like an extension of the cloth, flowing like water, a wave moving back, from her hoof to the tip of her tail and then snapping back with sudden, crashing force! Berlioz could almost her her crack like a whip, the shock of the motion hitting Xanadu and tearing the handkerchief from his hoof. He snapped at it with his teeth, grabbing it in midair.

“I’m not finished!” he growled through his gritted fangs. “Not yet!”

The ponies around Berlioz shook their heads in disapproval.

“How crass,” the mare muttered.

“He already lost, but refuses to admit it,” the stallion sighed.

Arteria leaned in, the silk going limp. “Is it just that you can’t stand losing, or you can’t stand losing to a little filly?”

Xanadu started to yell, and the handkerchief slipped from his mouth. This time, Arteria snatched it away before he could try to get another grip on it. He reached under his coat, and there was a flash of steel, the ringing sound of a blade being bared. There was no time for Arteria to react, as close as she was to him.

Xanadu stabbed, and the knife clanged against steel, the tip bending from the sheer force he’d put into the blow. The shock of the impact knocked it out of Xanadu’s hoof, and he dropped it, backing up in utter confusion.

“What? But--”

“You just tried to stab me!” Arteria gasped. “You shockin’ lout!”

Ponies in black -- black that was almost invisible in shadows, instead of the fashionable shades of black worn by the ponies attending the ball -- appeared at his sides, grabbing him by the wings before he could take flight. Blackhoof melted out of the shadows as well, stepping forward and shaking his head.

Blackhoof sighed. “Count Xanadu, please. You know the rules. No business on palace grounds.”

Xanadu looked at the ponies holding his wings in shock. “What? But this was-- I was--”

“Duchess Arteria had an open contract on her, and you made an attempt on sanctified grounds. I’m afraid that’s grounds for Excommunicado with no appeal. Unless the Duchess would like to say anything in your defense?” Blackhoof looked at his daughter.

Arteria sighed and tossed the handkerchief back at Xanadu, letting it hit him in the chest and drift to the ground. “Nah. He can speak for himself.”

“So be it,” Blackhoof said. “Take him away. I apologize, everypony, for the disruption. I hope it has only made your night more interesting.” He bowed and winked to Arteria before walking away with Xanadu and the ponies holding him.

“Pony was wearing armor?” Berlioz asked.

Arteria tugged part of the dress aside to show a black iron breastplate.

“I figured on trying on Black Nelly’s armor for a bit. You know, just as a lark.”

“Pony did not do it on a lark. Pony knew this would happen.” He paused. “Pony very nimble for wearing heavy armor.”

“Well, I had a feelin’ if I got him angry enough he’d make a mistake,” Arteria admitted. “I just didn’t want to end up regrettin’ it too. And me Dad was smart enough to have the dress tailored so as armor would fit under it, so that’s two of us thinkin’ like clever bats, eh?”

Berlioz shook his head. “What if it didn’t work? What if pony got stabbed in neck, or side?”

“Well I had you here as my good luck charm,” Arteria said. “Why else d’ you think I dragged you along?” She grinned widely and offered Berlioz a hoof. She cleared her throat and spoke in her big bat formal voice. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

Berlioz rolled his eyes and took her hoof.

“I’m tellin’ you, no matter what kind of spider’s nest we tangled ourselves up in, it isn’t gonna be half of what Dawn did,” Arteria promised, as the train rocked and rolled along the tracks. “I had an earful of her plans and they’re the kind that get ponies in trouble.”

“All ponies are trouble,” Berlioz countered.

“Yeah,” Arteria agreed with a snort. “Guess we are.”

“At least you are not causing trouble for Princess.”

“Not yet. I’ll work on that next week,” Arteria said, winking at him.

Berlioz smiled, then his expression fell. He looked back along the length of the train, then glanced the other direction.

“What’s wrong?” Arteria asked. “I told you, the assassination contract is canceled, so we don’t have t’ worry about that no more.”

“Smoke,” he said. “Lots of smoke.”

Arteria sat up and sniffed the air. “Hey, you’re right! Do you think the train’s knackered?”

Berlioz opened a window to look outside.

“No,” he said. “Worse.”

Arteria stood up on her hind legs to look. The air was already looking hazy, but they could see it from here. It was impossible to miss.

“What the buck did Luster Dawn do?” Arteria swore.

The Everfree Forest was on fire.

Second Sunrise

by MagnetBolt

Chapter 1 - Something Wicked

Chapter 2 - The Crown of Shardless

Chapter 3 - The Crystal Empress Protects

Chapter 4 - The Stick and Carrot

Chapter 5 - The Sphinx, the Warlock, and the Treehouse

Chapter 6 - The Tragedy of the Uncommons

Chapter 7 - The Night of a Thousand Stone Knives