A minute later, I wandered into Donut Joe's. The bell over the door jingled. I limped to the back and opened the pantry. I said, "It's safe, for now."

"You're bleeding!" cried Sapphire Shores. The other ponies gathered around me in the well-lit kitchen, amongst the steel sinks and fryers.

I looked and found myself bruised everywhere and covered in cuts and scratches, not to mention the glistening javelin graze puckering near my tail. A sliver of glass the size of a secondary feather stood stabbed into my withers on my right side. My nose felt congested; I sniffed and smelled an iron taint. It seemed that my nose was broken. "Bloody Tartarus," I said, the world suddenly tilting to the right.

The ponies hustled me, more like dragged me, to a stool by the counter. Somepony found a first-aid kit while Donut Joe poured me a coffee (now tepid), mixed in half as much sugar, and forced me to drink it. He said, "You look really pale."

"About that—"

Somepony jerked the glass from my withers. I gasped and dropped the mug. Jumping away from the spilt coffee, I accidentally smeared one of the dancers with a stripe of blood. She had been holding a wadded bar mop against my side.

Despite her golden blonde fur, she turned white as a sheet.

"Sorry," I said. Then added, "You ponies are going to have to get as far away as possible from that monster. He steals magic. Takes flight from pegasai. You need to get away."

"You said we're safe," Hauling Oats said.

"For now." As multiple ponies dabbed me with antiseptic, I launched into the whole mess, from the trying to save ponies by hiding them or getting them to run in a different direction from Tirek, to the cavalry charge, to me turning and fighting the creature, and my final embarrassing standoff.

Hauling Oats said, "You're a hero." Everypony began to stomp the floor.

I sighed and grabbed the medallion on a chain from around my neck, dangling it over a hoof. Everypony looked; some gasped; all recognized the royal seal. "It's what this says, but it's wrong in too many ways to enumerate. I'm a crazy pony, and I'd prefer what I said didn't go further than this room."

Sapphire Shores said, "Girl, you're my kind of crazy. Princess Celestia's, too, apparently."

And Princess Nightmare Moon's. "I threatened to kill him. I tried to kill him."

Into the awkward silence, Hauling Oats said, "And what's wrong with that?"

I heard an expected number of gasps.

"Look," he said, which in retrospect for him seemed like an interesting turn of phrase. "If somepony doesn't do something about this Lord Tirek, he'll ruin everypony's life. I might not be able to-to... to do it, but maybe... maybe it needs doing."

His stepmother looked uncomfortably at him, as if he'd admitted to leprosy, but I smiled. I looked at the fuzzy sphere of levitated darts depicted by his cutie mark. The young stallion still had his magic. And Lord Tirek was heading for Canterlot Castle. And the castle stood at the edge of a half-mile high cliff.

What if the centaur could conveniently convinced to slip and fall off?

I had a sprained something between my right rear hoof and the cannon bone. It hurt like the dickens, but, even with the limp, we were able to get ahead of Lord Tirek going uptown on a parallel street. The greedy beast, going by what I could understand from the frightened shouts of ponies fleeing him, was taking his time to dine on the magic of the populace—undoubtedly daring the princesses to confront him. Hauling Oats accompanied me, to the chagrin of his stepmother. That likely knackered my chances for a recording deal at Eohippus Records, but I'd risk that against losing the pony nation. I don't know who helped whom more, me guiding him as we trotted as fast as we could, or him letting me lean on him so I could move quickly, holding my leg against my stomach.

The sun had not yet risen. This worried me. Had the princesses fled? Probably smart. Had they hidden inside? Probably not smart. The gas lights still flickered and lit the streets. The lack of Canterlot hoof traffic at nearly 8 a.m. was both a relief and creepy at the same time. At least I didn't have to shout at many ponies to flee the city.

In all this, I realized something mildly comforting. My cutie mark had nothing to do with my standing up to danger. I was as blank a flank as I had been in the foal picture on my parents' fireplace mantel. I was simply off my trolley and well barmy to boot. I didn't try to sing, though. The thought of having lost my music forever threatened to make me very sad.

As I walked, I puzzled about why killing bothered Hauling Oats less than other ponies. Having sent the ponies from the last boutique dashing toward the Lower, I asked, "Why did you say killing this Lord Tirek monster might need doing, but that you couldn't do it?" My understanding of pony behavior gave me the answer, but I knew I was wrong in his case.

"I'm blind?" he tried.

"You jest."

"I like your Trottingham accent?"

"And until this morning, I was a beautiful hot-to-trot twenty-one year old filly. Not so pretty right now. Oat-Boy, if you don't want to answer, just say so."

"You're a harder case than my stepmother."

"Your stepmum rocks, so I've been told."

He shook his head, probably his version of an eye roll. "Okay, I'm not trying to avoid answering you, but since you aren't a unicorn, you might not know that unicorn magic has limits. It won't let a caster directly maim or kill anypony."

"He isn't a pony."

"Applies anyway."

"And that's because the magic is made of giggles and rainbows?" I'd seen rainbow magic a time or two, myself, and I well knew the joke.

"Hehehe," he said, "but that's not my point. You can throw something and let it fly—"

"Like a javelin."

"Or a stone, and I needed to throw a stone once, and I couldn't..." His voice petered out.

I'd hit a nerve. "I get it. You can stop—"

"I needed to throw the stone. I wasn't born blind. I know what my father looked like. I know what my stepmother looks like." He stopped. "I know what a monster looks like, and... I watched Father die. He liked his hard cider too much sometimes. It was a few months after he married Sapphire and we had returned to our island village for Marching Grass and it was night and he tripped over something on our way back to the beach cottage. I remember the moon and the rushing surf and the thick marsh grass filled with shadows not because of my bad eyesight, but because of the manticore it hid. Something had savaged the creature, left it crippled and starved, not ready to die though it should have. Father tripped over and tangled himself in some driftwood. It attacked. I tried to throw it but my magic wouldn't work because I wanted to hit the thing so hard it'd have been killed. It all happened so quickly. Its scorpion tail jabbed and jabbed. There were flat stones, the size of skillets, and I realized I could drop them on the creature's head. I-I couldn't."

He held his head low as he walked, but flicked his tail angrily. "The mangy beast died before Father did from its poison. It was very sick. The whole thing, a waste." His sunglasses glinted in the lamplight as he turned his head toward me. "And yes, I know, it isn't my fault and it won't bring back my father. But somethings need doing and I'm going to try and I'm going to see what it makes of me, and that's that."

I coughed. "I'm the crazy pony here. Don't expect me to stop you."

"Good."

"Fine."

"Some things need doing," he repeated

"Not stopping you."

"We sound silly, don't we?" he asked.

"May I call you Oat-Boy?"

"Uh, huh."

We turned right on Castle Way and marched up to the nearest castle entrance. Five large freight wagons had been turned on their side, blocking the view down Alicorn way. The portcullis, unsurprisingly, was down, but with nopony in sight.

I banged my horseshoe on the steel rods.

The blue pegasus from last night peered around a corner. Her feathers were fluffed and she looked very tired. She frowned at the blood crusted on my nose and the taped-on wads of cotton that peppered my hide.

"I need to speak with Riverdale."

She said, "He's not available—"

"Let her in," Captain Oh You Again said from down a hall.

The portcullis clanked up high enough to let me and Hauling Oats in, then crashed down. He and a dozen of the guard stood in the hall, armored in brass and armed with steel spears.

I said, "Spears won't work. Lord Tirek's hide is too tough."

Captain Riverdale stepped forward to examine my bruises and bandages. He smiled as he chuckled and shook his head. "I see you've been trying to get yourself killed, again."

"The Wonderbolts led a charge. The monster steals magic, even pegasus flight magic. Inhales it. Before they realized it, he drained them enough that they started crashing. Yes, I got into it. Distracted him... enough to allow them to land without killing themselves."

"He pummeled you."

"Bloody well pummeled me." I fluttered, but even that little effort lifting wings that had seemed weightless before, became immediately exhausting. "But I pissed him off, well and thoroughly." I grinned.

"Looks like he got the best of the deal."

"It was Discord who tipped him off about the pegasi. I saw it."

The troops behind started muttering.

I asked, "What is the princesses' plan?"

"Not something I can say."

"Well, I'll say something! That creature eats magic, and it makes him grow stronger and grow bigger. You need to keep him away from them—" I pointed toward the castle keep "—or the world as we know it ends today."

"I have my orders."

"Which you cannot share with me?"

"Pretty much."

"I have a plan I think can defeat this beast. But I am going to need some help and some supplies—"

"My orders are to protect this entrance."

"That's going to be a real help when he inhales and takes your magic and lifts the gate with his enormous strength. I fought him—"

"And clearly lost—"

"I'm alive. Bloody Tartarus! Give me a helping hoof. How many times have I heard not trying is trying to fail?" He looked at me. "Okay, fine." I reached through the neck of my shirt and pulled out the golden 107 medallion. It glistened, and part of that was sweat. "In a thousand years, 106 other ponies earned this, half of them in the last century. Does this give me any authority to ask for what I want?"

A couple of ponies in the hall nickered in surprise. Captain Riverdale sighed. "If we do anything, it'll be my decision to go against Princess Celestia's direct orders."

"With me and the hardy fellow here."

"Oat-Boy-Blind," said-fellow offered. "Something needs doing."

"I'm going to do it even if it kills me."

Riverdale said, "Pretty much what I'd expect from you, as well as the likely outcome. Tell me your plan."

It had involved oil and levitating water, but Riverdale said machine grease would be better and less visible in the moonlight, and available. Oat-boy and a unicorn battery sergeant explained that levitating water was difficult. Levitating things to dam up water was far simpler.

In the end, the Captain allowed only volunteers. The royal orders were explicit and astonishingly simple. Do nothing. Protect the castle entrances. He refused to command anypony to disobey who might face the princess' wrath, even if it would ultimately be his court marshal.

My team became Staff Sergeant Running Wolf and Lieutenant Sparks, both unicorns, and Riverdale himself, a pegasus like me but able to fly, and Oat-Boy. Too many minutes had passed and already the ground rattled with the sound of the approaching monster.

Oat-Boy carried a celestial-ton barrel of grease in his magic as Running Wolf guided him. Sparks flew ahead to figure out the logistics of my trap. I hoped my memory of the Canterlot Cascade and the bridgeworks from when I had put on the public Canterlot Wedding afterparty didn't fail me.

Captain Riverdale flew up beside the Bank of Equestria building, where he flapped against the shadowed peaked roof and could see down Alicorn Way without being seen himself. He watched for about a minute, then held his forelegs wide, indicating one block away and that Lord Tirek continued up Alicorn Way.

It was 8:15AM in the morning and still night. The cobbles were damp from the overnight mist. I looked right at the white brick university buildings nestled in a curve of the castle Bailey wall. Across the street, dark glass storefronts looked populated with shadows and ghosts. Not a pony nor a drawn wagon was in sight.

Except for the five overturned wagons.

Riverdale presently shortened the width between his legs by half. I nodded. He saluted and I saluted back, though I momentarily stood on two legs. He flew off.

I tottered forward, around the barrier, mindful of the suggestion a battery sergeant had made in passing. My teammate, Lieutenant Sparks—you could guess his special talent from his name, if not from his flint and steel cutie mark—had quickly implemented the idea and modified my iSing (which had survived my little battle). I now trailed a little pair of magical conductors behind me.

Alicorn Way was very well lit by gas lamps. Much of the jewelry district lined the south side of the street. Restaurants and couture shops lined the north side. Not to mention the bank building on the southwest corner. The walls gleamed white. Gold accents swirled around typical Canterlot flourishes of hearts and stars in blue and rose.

The street lay empty except for a monster centaur.

As I limped into view, Lord Tirek paused. His eyes narrowed as he recognized me.

"Oh, good, I don't have to introduce myself again."

"Weak-minded ponies!" he sneered, then snorted. "You didn't introduce yourself the first time."

"You're right! I'm Flopsy Mopsy, Princess Nightmare Moon's first and only Knight of Equestria."

He spat. The spittle exploded like a tomato thrown to the pavement. "Silly equine names."

"And Tirek means something? Lord of what?" I sniffed the air theatrically. "The flies?"

He stalked forward.

"What are you going to do, drain me of my magic?" I stepped forward, continuing to my imaginary line on the cobblestones.

"Maybe I'll squash you."

"You really don't think I'm going to let you do that, do you?"

He took two more steps and I flattened myself to the cobblestone street, my iSing before me. I had walked out with my earplugs popped in my ears. I tamped them in and...

Wait for it....

I pressed record.

Krump!

The explosion dazzled me, despite me seeing only reflections. I felt the blast in my stomach and lungs, and my tail and mane caught in a sudden gale blew forward. Splinters peppered my backside. My earplugs saved my ears; I only bought the best because I needed them every night, all night.

Bits of wagon flew overhead. Windows smashed. I watched a wagon wheel bounce and roll down Alicorn way, wobbling to where a stunned Lord Tirek stood, staring, catching the rim in his claw.

I looked over my shoulder. One wagon had been shoved to within a hoof-length of my flank. I hastily grabbed and pocketed my iSing, pulling out the magical conduits from my earphone and mic jack, then walked as fast as I could toward Palisades Park and the edge of Canterlot mountain. I looked over my shoulder. The barrel of fireworks powder had completely collapsed the stone around the portcullis, rendering the main gateway into the palace permanently shut.

Now was the hard part. I was the bait. Unless I had the measure of the stallion wrong, Lord Tirek would be furious that I'd made his conquest of Canterlot that much harder. All I had to do was limp three blocks without getting pulverized. Easy peazy lemon squeezy.

Perhaps the flash had blinded him, at least temporarily. I hoofed it as fast as I could, looking over my shoulder again and again. I'd got a block away, panting hard, before he appeared at the intersection with Alicorn Way. He grabbed the two wagons that weren't splintered and shoved them away like foal's toys to spin into a storefront, smashing out what little glass was left. I kept going as he walked up to the gate. It had been large enough to admit him, but the collapse would mean shoving aside boulders and digging away rubble before pulling out the steel bars of the portcullis itself.

That he'd attempt it was ridiculous. He had to know that there were other entrances. The big question was would he go north or follow me.

I turned and shouted, "Stupid equine name? Remember the name 'Flopsy Mopsy'. That's the name of the weak-minded pony that beat your sorry flank!"

He didn't even think. He stalked my direction.

This time I did run, on all four legs—the searing pain that left me gasping, be damned. I had to get to the trap before he did or all would be lost, the least being my life.

Castle Canterlot had a wide circular outdoor promenade. It was larger than a stadium. From a balcony in the wall of the castle, the princess could address a significant portion of the population gathered below. It had also held the largest outdoor rave ever held in Equestria, starring... guess who? The Bailey wall curved off to the west as I trotted for all I was worth, reflexively beating my useless wings any time I stopped concentrating and looked back at the rapidly approaching locomotive of death.

The castle—and the promenade and most of upper Canterlot—essentially paved over the south side of the mountain. Problem was that the Canterlot Cataract, the multiple waterfalls that cascaded down the mountain side, originated further up the mountain. Clever aqueducts, including one that spirited a stream of water around the throne in the throne room, sluiced the water safely to the edge of the mountain where it formed two rivers to either side of the promenade. An arched bridge rose over each.

With Lord Tirek not ten pony-lengths behind me, I reached the bridge. I trudged up the very right edge of the path, grunting with effort and got over. Lord Tirek's stance was very much wider. With his weight, the pressure down on his hooves made the grease layered there barely noticeable. I lost my footing and skidded the last few pony-lengths down the bridge.

At the crest of the bridge, the centaur loomed where I lay crumpled.

He laughed.

Captain Riverdale yelled, "Now!"

Lots of little things whistled through the air—stones probably—to pepper Lord Tirek's shoulders and face. He yelled out, hiding his eyes with a claw.

At the same time, I heard a titanic crashing splash. Lieutenant Sparks and Staff Sergeant Running Wolf had dammed the flow of the east river for the better part of a minute, and they had now let go.

Captain Riverdale, flying high overhead yelled again, "Now!"

Oat-Boy didn't really have to aim well if he was throwing a cloud of debris. This part was the biggest stretch in my plan. You slap a pony in the flank, stallion or mare, they'll rear and gallop away from you. It's instinct.

For centaurs?

The best I could see in the moonlight, the buckshot hit Lord Tirek square in the flank. His white tail whirled like a propeller as he yelled a curse in some lost language. And...

He reared.

By now the grease had smeared his cloven hooves—and the frogs of his hooves that had given him further traction. A moment later, his forequarters still in the air—his least stable stance—a wave washed over the bridge.

I didn't see much after that. The wave wasn't much higher than I was, but the muddy water swamped me, slapping me in the back, spinning me, and washing me out along the promenade. As the water receded, I coughed what I had inhaled from my lungs. I struggled to look. I faced the castle. Gasping, I turned around, but saw nothing.

I scrambled, fell, and got myself careening to the edge of the river channel where I slid into a curb with a bruising crash.

I had missed the splash of him falling in, but there he was being swept away. He flailed his arms and legs, but had apparently fallen in on his back. The flow floated him toward the edge. He couldn't catch hold of the wet algae-slickened boulders. In a space of about five heartbeats, he would sail over. Nopony his size would survive a half-mile fall to the pool below, assuming he avoided the rocks in the side of the mountain, which... how could he with his mass?

Ponyville's water supply would be fouled for weeks.

I grinned.

Then I heard, "Oh dear, that won't do," followed by an accursed snap!