//------------------------------// // Episode 21 - More Than Meets the I // Story: My Little Rider: Friendship is Joker // by lilAngel //------------------------------// It was a quiet day in Ponyville, the only sound being the laughter of foals at play. It was still summer, but the days were starting to draw shorter now. A week before had been the annual festival of Nightmare Night, when the young would don costumes and make a symbolic tribute to the terrible Nightmare Moon so that she would never again return to trouble Equestria. The festivities had been a little different this year, given that Nightmare Moon was no longer banished to the dark side of her namesake. Most ponies thought she had been finally defeated, or maybe sealed away again, but the party kept up just the same. Traditions changed, without regard to the original meaning behind them. It was just the same as Nightmare Night’s date changing from the equinox to near midsummer (so that the foals could be out after sunset without really feeling the chill in the air, or finding it too dark to walk safely); Nightmare Moon hadn’t cared at all. In all of Ponyville, there were probably only a dozen who had known before the festival that Princess Luna had abandoned the cape and dark powers of the tyrant Princess of the Night. And maybe only one who buried her nose in books enough to understand the true meaning of the festival, before it had been changed by the passage of time. She saw that the events of that night this year were just one more change in a series of many, and the babies who had been too young to go out this time would grow up with a festival where Nightmare Moon returned to her dark self once a year, giving vent to all her darkest urges so that ordinary ponies would only have to fear her for one day. New explanations for the same old traditions, it was the way of the world. In Twilight Sparkle’s little nook, it was almost completely quiet. The sound of kids playing accompanied a refreshing breeze through the open window, but quietly enough that it was no more noticeable than the sound of slowly turning pages. Here it was nearly always quiet, because this was a library. And the last two or three weeks especially, because no dopant had appeared to terrorise the citizens of Ponyville. Twilight was even starting to wonder if the Memory Dealers had been scared into backing off, rather than losing any more clients to the Champions of Harmony, the team that had formed around Twilight’s own heroism and friendship. The blessed silence lasted another minute or two, while Twilight had nothing on her mind beyond a little refresher course to ensure she hadn’t forgotten the typical structures and drawbacks of an amniomorphic spell. “Twilight!” Spike screamed, throwing back the door and running into the main room of the library, “TWILIGHT!” “Spike!” Twilight popped her head out of the little alcove where she had situated her favourite hammock, “Keep it down, this is a library! You’ll disturb everypony’s reading!” Spike paused and looked around, puzzled. The room was large enough, but he could see from the middle of the floor that the library was deserted save for Twilight herself. “Well, you’re disturbing my studying,” Twilight conceded, “and there could have been other ponies here. This had better be something important. What is it?” “Sweet Pickings is dead!” Spike eventually managed to choke out the words, “They found her this morning, in the lake. They said she must have stumbled and fallen in, that the water’s still very cold for a pony her age. I said I was going to tell you, and they said the police can handle it. The guy in charge, he’s some big shot detective, he says just because you guys investigate rampaging monsters, you don’t need to be involved in every investigation in town. He said they just died from cold, it’s a normal thing and not something that anypony should waste their time on, he doesn’t want another amateur detective running around the place getting underhoof.” He finally ran out of breath, and stood panting in the middle of the floor. Twilight peered down at him, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. “That’s right, isn’t it?” she said, “I don’t think I know Sweet Pickings, but if she’s had an accident I’m sure there are officials whose job is to ensure there was no foul play,and to help console the relatives. It really isn’t what I was sent here for. Why don’t you let the detective do his job? He must know what he’s doing, to be in charge there.” “Because…” Spike hesitated, “It was just the way he said it. He said they died from cold, not she. And he said another amateur detective. That kinda makes me think that there’s something weird going on, and they’re too proud to ask for help. Like Applejack was, when it was harvest season for them. And because the police don’t know all about dopants, and they might think this is something normal when it’s not. And…” he trailed off. “And?” “And because I’ve just seen an old mare get pulled out of her garden pond, completely rigid. Like she’s just going to go back to normal as soon as the ice melts. We’ve been saving ponies all since we’ve been here, and I don’t like that we can’t save that one.” “I understand,” Twilight whispered, climbing down from her hammock now. She lifted Spike up and held him tenderly with her magic. “You haven’t seen death before, and it seems so unfair that ponies just die. I read in so many philosophy texts, that the ponies you can help aren’t always the same as the ones in front of you. Mistraiser the Wise called it the greatest tragedy of the evolved conscience. I just glad I’ve not had to see…” and she stopped mid sentence, finally realising what she’d just heard. “Wait,” she asked, “What did you say?” “We’ve been saving ponies all year, and I don’t like seeing one I can’t save?” “No, no, before that. Did you say ice?” “Yeah. I mean it’s a hot summer afternoon, but a pond can still be pretty cold. I think I’ve never found a pool that isn’t cool to swim in. And this time it’s cold enough that poor old Sweet Pickings was trapped in a block of ice when they fished her out of the pond. It’s weird how the water can do that.” “No,” Twilight snapped firmly, “Water can’t do that. It has a high specific heat capacity, so the sun only warms the surface and the winter frosts only cool the surface. It takes the heat a long time to get to the middle. So the temperature at the centre of a lake is the average temperature of the surrounding microclimate, halfway between the hottest summer day and the coldest winter night. So when you go swimming in summer – because nopony would want to swim in the middle of winter – the water seems colder. That’s not normally cold enough to freeze, because we don’t have snow on the ground for anything like half the year. But even where it is, in the deep frozen lands of the north, you get a lake with a permanent frozen core. A giant ice cube slightly below freezing temperature, and the rest of the lake slightly above, and the colder the average temperature is, the greater the proportion of the lake taken up by ice even in midsummer. But even if we assume that the pond in question is large enough to have a core in thermal balance, even if we assume that the average temperature is cold enough to create ice, the ice would be in a block. If she’s swimming in water that’s just a fraction of a degree above freezing, it’s still not going to freeze around her unless there’s an ice storm on the surface to make it colder.” “I don’t get it…” Spike mumbled, once he was sure Twilight’s lecture had actually ended, “There are ice cubes in lakes?” “Only in very cold places. And ice cubes never make more ice in your drink, do they?” Spike just shook his head, and Twilight continued: “Then we’re agreed. This must have been some pretty high-grade weather magic. If ponies have died from ice, it’s not just an accident, and the police need to start taking it seriously. I don’t know if it’s a dopant here, maybe it is. But it sounds to me like the proper authorities don’t know anything about microclimatology, so even if it isn’t we need to give them a push in the right direction.” “Rainbow Dash!” Dash jerked awake so quickly that she fell off the edge of her luxurious bed and sprawled out on the floor. She’d just been taking an afternoon nap after a hard morning clearing stray clouds away so that the kids of Ponyville could enjoy a warm afternoon, and Twilight’s voice had suddenly come from nowhere. She looked around her bedroom, head snapping from one side to the other, for a second before her sleepy mind remembered the collars. She rested a hoof on her Element, and then replied. “What’s up?” As much as Rainbow Dash wanted to mutter something sarcastic about the easy life of a bookworm in a library, and how tired she was after a morning of hard work, she knew by now that Twilight wouldn’t contact her using the mental connection of the Elements of Harmony unless it was an actual emergency. “Can I come round?” Twilight’s voice seemed like she was whispering right next to Dash’s ear, which somehow seemed even weirder when she was lying on a relatively soft cloud next to her own bed, “It’s weird talking like this. And I need to ask your opinion on the weather.” “The weather?” Dash just couldn’t think of anything more constructive to say, “But the weather’s my job! I know all there is to know about weather, but why would you be interested in something like that?” She actually waited a couple of seconds for a response before she realised that Twilight Sparkle was no longer listening. The magical connection had blinked out just as quickly as it had started. A second later there was a brilliant flash, and Twilight was standing right there. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to knock before teleporting, or something? What if I’d been doing something private?” “That’s why I asked if it was okay to come round. You said you know everything about the weather, right?” Rainbow Dash could only nod, as Twilight kept on talking, “I mean, I’ve read everything about weather formations in the Royal Canterlot Library, but that was so long ago, and in the Golden Oak Library too, but there’s not much there. It’s like a study of what the pegasi do to control the weather, but all in such academic terms that it’s difficult to understand as a real experience. I was hoping you might have some books that explain it a little better, from your school days or something. I could never actually find that many books on the practise of pegasus magic, only the theory. Why do you think that could be?” “I think we mostly get taught by somepony, show it and try it. There isn’t much you can learn from books, cloud-herding is like an art. No matter what you read, you’d never understand it properly until you’ve done it once.” “Oh,” Twilight almost visibly deflated. “Have you spent all day reading books about how the weather works, trying to understand it on your own? You seem a little twitchy, I think maybe you’re overdoing it, how long have you had your nose in a book today?” “Umm…” Twilight hesitated, making it clear that the answer was too long, and that she was well aware of that fact. “Pretty much all day. Spike brought me a couple of sandwiches, but I need to do research. I think it might be a dopant, or at the very least something the police aren’t equipped to handle.” Rainbow Dash thought about this for a moment before answering: “The police can’t handle the weather? Has somepony been stealing it?” “No. Several ponies have died from the cold, even though it’s past midsummer now. Spike tells me the detective in charge of the case is insisting this is a perfectly natural consequence of the weather, and it’s just unfortunate that old and infirm ponies managed to get caught outside after sunset.” “What the hay?” Rainbow Dash couldn’t believe what she was hearing, “I know the nights are colder than the day, what with the sun not being there and everything, but no way would we let it get cold enough to hurt somepony in the summer. Where did this happen?” Just like that, Rainbow Dash was on the case. Twilight knew that had touched a nerve, and her friend would have to see this case to a satisfactory solution even if it turned out not to be a dopant behind it. That was one thing the two Champions of Harmony had in common. The weather has never been the most exciting topic of conversation. But these two ponies found enough details to keep them interested. Rainbow Dash knew everything about the subject, but putting it into words wasn’t as easy as she’d thought, so Twilight found herself needing to ask more and more questions about tiny details, trying to understand the flows of pegasus magic. She was pretty sure that it wasn’t normal weather magic to blame in this case, but she had to exhaust every other possibility before assuming the presence of a dopant. “I think I understand most of how ice and snow forms,” Twilight wasn’t as sure as she liked to be, but she figured this was about as close as she was going to get without watching it closely in action. “Let’s go see the police, see what they have to say.” “Right. Maybe we should pick up one of the others on the way. I mean, hail and snow in the air, I know everything even if I can’t explain it. I’m the master of the weather. But the ebb and flow of ice in rivers and lakes, that isn’t quite a weather thing. It’s kind of on the edge, where sometimes weather magic can change it, but sometimes you need earth pony powers, because it’s all that ‘harmonies of the ground’ stuff I never really understood.” Elsewhere in Ponyville, Gin Mixer was a lot less eager to admit that he didn’t understand. He had a report on his desk from the Ponyville Central Weather Service, some bureaucratic group among the pegasi who managed the weather around here. Somepony had told them that he was worried the weather was too cold at night, and ordinary ponies were dying from exposure. Most ponies assumed that Gin Mixer was always angry about what he was currently working on. Sometimes that was accurate; he was a police detective, and being outraged about a crime was a surefire way to be more motivated, more dedicated to finding the truth. He figured that was widely enough known that a lot of ponies assumed his anger even when he didn’t show it. Or maybe some of them saw him being forthright and direct, and assumed that was a sign of inner rage almost ready to boil over. It wasn’t, of course. He was loud and brusque regardless of his feelings, because that manner got guilty ponies to answer questions. He wasn’t going to be soft when the case required a hard hoof. But today, he was angry. Angry because he didn’t understand. And angry because he didn’t know how to respond to this letter. Since this case had started, a couple of months ago now, ponies had been dying from the cold. When it was just a week after the big wrap-up event to signal the end of winter, that wasn’t too strange. It was still cold out, and the weaker ponies probably couldn’t stand spending a night outside if they stumbled and fell, and got stranded far from help. But as spring grew warmer, and turned into summer, after the summer sun celebration came and went, and now they were well on the way towards autumn, there shouldn’t still be elderly mares being pulled frozen out of a stream in the middle of the night. Gin Mixer assumed something was wrong with the weather. He knew that streams and lakes were always colder than the air around them, and that everything went colder at night when the sun stopped adding extra warmth. But for so many to freeze to death, something was certainly wrong. And yet, he knew the weather ponies. He knew just how seriously they took their jobs. And he couldn’t imagine an error on that scale, that lasted through long balmy days and summer showers, going unnoticed for so long. He wanted to blame the weather ponies, because that would have made his job so much easier, but he couldn’t. And now, somepony had sent this letter, asserting that he’d said the things he wanted to say but couldn’t. How could he react to that? If he made a statement the next time someone mentioned it, he could say that the weather was behaving as expected, and these deaths were just terrible misfortune. But that wouldn’t be true, and if there was one thing that Gin Mixer really cared about, it was the truth. And just as bad, it meant that he couldn’t push the weather service for another check into the night-time temperatures, because now that they had seen an accusation which purported to come from him, they would consider any further questions to be directly blaming them. He wished he wasn’t working on this case, because it seemed like he couldn’t get anywhere. But he had his pride as a detective, and he wasn’t going to let it go until he found the answer. He wasn’t going to abandon it to be forever unsolved, and he wasn’t going to let the case be taken from him by someone else. Certainly not by amateur detectives who knew nothing about police work but were convinced they could solve a string of accidental deaths faster than him. Accidental. The word was a joke, and that just made him angrier. Of course it was an accident. These ponies had died of cold, of exposure to the outside. That wasn’t a weapon, there was no sign of violence. Just nine ponies in the space of five months, every one frozen solid, and all found in a pool, a stream, or a lake. But that much in common between them told him that there had to be someone in common behind it. Could he seriously believe that somepony was using the weather as a murder weapon? And if he found out that was true, was there any way he could tell anypony else without them thinking he was crazy? Gin Mixer hated being uncertain. He hated being powerless. And now that he didn’t know what had happened to these victims, and he had no idea what he’d do with the information even if he found out, he was doubly vexed. The letter from the weather service was in front of him. He read over it again, feeling no less confused and angry. They said that they’d heard he was blaming their incompetence for a number of accidental deaths. Well, maybe some words he’d said at a scene could be taken that way, but he wished he had some idea who could have reported those words to the ponies he was talking about. The letter also said that no areas of Ponyville had experienced abnormal cold fronts in the last month or so, and asked him to supply details of the times and places so that they could double check. And they said that pulling a frozen-solid pony out of a non-frozen lake, even in the middle of winter, was a technical impossibility. They cited some numbers, which meant nothing to Gin Mixer. But he could see that if it came down to their word against his, those strange patterns of letters and numbers, those equations, would convince everypony that he was the one who couldn’t be trusted to render a sound judgement any more. And they said something about the clustering effects of natural harmonies in the ground. He clung to that like a liferaft; there was one phenomena that even the pegasus geniuses at the official weather service couldn’t account for, one strangeness that could just possibly have led to the troubles that Ponyville was experiencing. If he could just look into that possibility, he might find the truth he was looking for. And that, after a lot of careful thought, was why Gin Mixer was waiting nervously for one of Ponyville’s most respected earth ponies to come and visit him. The harmonies of the ground seemed like a nonsense term, used to handwave anything you couldn’t adequately explain. But it turned out it was a real, specific thing. A type of magic, that most earth ponies had access to instinctively, but never actually thought about how it worked. It would be hard to find the right questions to ask here, but there was just a chance that talking to enough earth ponies would give him the insight into their magic, and then knowing that would be the clue that could lead to a killer. There was the tap of a hoof on his door. Time to stop worrying about the case, to let go of all his frustrations and just solve it. He was just about to call for the knocker to enter when the door swung open and a giant, red-coated earth pony walked in. “You need something?” In yet another part of town, there was a different red pony sitting on a bench, nibbling a donut and watching the world go by. Her name was Deep Crimson, which she always made sure to point out was a combination of her father’s name, Crimson Sky, and her maternal great uncle’s, Deep Well. She couldn’t bear to be thought of as a pony whose parents were shallow enough to name her simply for the colour of her coat. It wasn’t strange that Deep Crimson was a little nervous about her own identity. She was a unicorn born with a pegasus father, and rural communities were still not always accepting of those with mixed parentage. So she had got into the habit of mentioning her father every time she introduced herself, always reminding herself to respect his talents, and live up to his expectations. She had always been determined that some day, she would do something even more important than winning the prestigious Best Sunset award for cloud shaping four years in a row. Now Deep Crimson was a doctor, and she had come to Ponyville where she could make best use of her talents. She had only recently moved here, but already felt she knew the town and its residents well enough that she could see the currents of sickness beneath the surface. The whole town was ill, the whole country even, and she would be the one to cut out the infection. Even on her lunch break, as she watched the ponies going about their business, she could see that something was very wrong. Nopony else might see it, nopony might even realise. But Equestria was perched on the edge of something great or terrible and this town would be the tipping point. She was smart, she could watch the patterns. She knew the first point of infection, who she would need to sterilise in order to prevent this disease spreading further. And she knew the name of the cancer, too: Gaia Energy. Deep Crimson was a doctor. And she was not averse to spilling as much blood as was needed, if it would save the patient. But she was also not a fool. She could attack him, the one who had almost crippled her, but she needed to know first that she was ready. So like any scientist, she would experiment. She picked a pony out of the crowd, and still munching on the last bites of her snack, began to follow. “We want to see the officer in charge of the mysterious freezings,” Twilight Sparkle repeated to the pony on the front desk, “It’s vitally important.” “What mysterious freezings?” he responded, trying to remain deferential despite his confusion. It was only recently that crime had become a major problem in Equestria, and the Royal Guard was now setting up dedicated ‘police’ groups in some of the larger towns. A guardspony who now found himself a defender of the Law and the Truth, as well as the Kingdom of Equestria, he was still nervous about putting a foot wrong when dealing with innocent members of the public. “Sweet Pickings?” Twilight asked, wondering if the bureaucracy here was going to turn out to be as bad as some of the examples that Ponyville City Hall had created. There was something about ponies and paperwork, especially if the odd couple Pencil Pusher and Rubber Stamp were involved. If those two had helped to shape the procedures here, she wouldn’t  be surprised if finding out who was involved with any given case required a specific case number, that there was no easy way to search for unless you were someone already assigned to working on that particular case. The policecolt currently assigned to the front desk started leafing through a huge stack of papers, and then shook his head. “I know the case you mean,” he said, “An old mare, fell in a cold pond and froze?” “Cold water doesn’t work like that,” snapped Applejack, who had been brought along by her friends, “Why do I have to tell everypony that twice before they’ll listen?” “Yeah, that’s what Gin Mixer said as well,” the colt nervously shuffled from hoof to hoof, “He’s just had an expert witness brought in, that’s why I recognised the name. He’s in the office back there, probably best if you wait until he’s finished talking to the expert, though.” “Thank you,” Twilight smiled, resisting the urge to hurry straight to the office even though Spike was already there. “And would you like any help refining your filing system? I’d like to think I have some talent with such things, so I could maybe help to improve the organisation if it would make your job any easier.” Day Sentry told her that their system had been designed by some of the best minds in City Hall, and that he couldn’t possibly criticise the talents of experts who had been chosen by his superiors. But between the lines, she was sure, he would be very happy if the forms on his desk were designed to record the information that ponies came in to give him, rather than trying to shape that information into the perfect organisational structure that certain bureaucrats thought it should take. Twilight made a mental note to speak to Mayor Mare about this later, and see what she had to do to be placed on the right committee. Then she hurried after her friends, meeting them outside the office that the young pony had indicated. They barely  had to wait any time at all. Twilight was just trotting over when the door opened and Big Mac came out. Applejack’s older brother was a strong farm pony, and known among some of Ponyville’s more observant citizens for being wiser than his muscles might suggest. Of  course, if a pony who wasn’t so in tune with the spirits of nature wanted to know about the interaction between ground, water, and sky, then Big Mac would probably be one of the best ponies to ask. Certainly, his understanding of earth pony magic was second to none. Twilight’s opinion of Gin Mixer rose by a notch, if he was actually calling in ponies who might be able to tell him what was possible and what wasn’t from among the evidence. From Spike’s description, she’d thought that the police force was sweeping the matter under the rug, just ignoring problems  they couldn’t solve. But this detective seemed to be at least taking it seriously. That had to be a good thing, she was sure. “Hey, Big Mac,” Applejack greeted her brother, “I didn’t expect to see you around here. You spotted the thing with the ice too?” “Eeyup. Gin called on me, he reckons I know groundwater better’n anypony after I done all the new ditches on our place.” “He’s got a point,” Applejack conceded, “If anyone can track down the culprit, it’ll be you. Think you need a few extra hooves on the ground, to help out with this one?” “Nope. I think Detective Mixer’s got all the hooves he needs, and I can already tell you this is a nasty piece of work. I don’t want you getting involved, you could get yourself hurt, and I couldn’t take that. Your family needs you, so don’t go sticking your nose in this business when you don’t have to.” “Right,” Applejack looked away, not  sure what she could  say to that. She could have commented that he was investigating too, or that it was just as dangerous for him. But he had a good point, Ponyville had the Police now as well  as the Royal Guards, and that was supposed to mean that ordinary ponies didn’t have to deal with anything like this. They might have asked Big Mac to confirm that being found frozen wasn’t natural, but he wouldn’t be pursuing suspects and mixing with underworld ponies or monsters. And he’d know that if she was intending to help out, fighting the bad guys would be what was on her mind. “What if it’s a dopant?” Twilight cut in, “You’ve seen how dangerous those things can be. Anypony could end up hurt if they take on a monster, whether it’s you, or the police, or whoever. If this is a Gaia Memory crime, we need to be involved.” “The police called me,” Big Mac shrugged, “Because they haven’t  got  any earth ponies who got their hooves in the dirt, and they needed to know about earth pony magic. You know Gaia Energy better than anypony, and if they need to know that they’ll call on you just the same.” “I guess so,” Applejack murmured, “Don’t fret yourself, big bro. We’re just going to talk to the detective, be sure he knows we’re here if they need us. I know I can be stubborn, but I’m not going to push my luck this time.” Big Mac was already walking away, and didn’t give a reply. Applejack knew in her heart that the conversation must have been pretty hard for him too, just like it always was when she tried to solve the world’s problems by herself. But this time, she really meant it. She was here to advise, and she sure wasn’t  going to pick a fight unless there was really a monster out there that needed dealing with. “Did you want to see me?” an earth pony stallion poked his head out of the office door, “I heard a little part of that conversation, but…” “Of course,” Twilight smiled, and led the others in, “I presume you are Detective Gin Mixer?” The stallion just nodded. He was wearing a suit, just as pretentious as the fancy outfits Rarity often made, but a little worn, and looking like it was crafted for comfort and convenience rather than just for appearance. Twilight would have asked why anypony would wear clothes if they didn’t take their appearance seriously enough to keep them dust free, but then she saw the vast numbers of small things that were stowed away in various pockets. The suit was the grey of trail dust, while his own coat was somewhat darker. His mane was darker still, a rich black so perfect it almost shone. It wouldn’t be a big surprise to learn that Detective Gin used dye to keep himself looking perfect. He was an earth pony, but slightly built and probably smaller than all of the three mares in front of him. The suit made it clear  both that he took his job very seriously, and that his job had never involved getting his hooves dirty. Here was an older stallion who had never had the need to touch the earth beneath him, to wonder about its mood, or to understand all the complex balances that kept life in Equestria moving. But he knew to ask  for  help  when he needed something outside his  own specialty, which meant he was exactly the kind of pony who should be doing this job, at least as far as Twilight’s organisational analysis went. “And you are… Twilight Sparkle, and Rainbow Dash I think. I’ve seen you around town, though I don’t think we’ve spoken before. I know Applejack, of course. I used to play poker with your brother, before I went off to join the guards.” “I thought you looked familiar,” Applejack nodded, “Yeah, you know us. And you know we’re the bearers of the Elements, the Champions of Harmony. Right?” “I know you’ve defeated monsters in Ponyville on several occasions, and passed the perpetrators on to the Royal Guard. The guards found themselves in quite a situation, having to determine punishment for criminals when it wasn’t exactly clear if the law had been broken, and they couldn’t get any detailed information on exactly what the monsters were, or where they had come from.” “I can see that,” Twilight said, “But Princess Celestia insisted that the nature of our activities must remain secret. It is the only way we can ensure that they are dealt with, and the number of monsters actually rampaging is kept to a minimum.” “I can understand,” he smiled, and it seemed he was watching some scene in his mind, some difficult memory he’d been reminded of. Maybe the police had problems too, things they had to keep secret even when it made their lives more difficult. “Maybe you realise, but dealing with these rogues was one of the reasons the Ponyville Department of Policing was separated from the main organisation of the Royal Guards. We are chosen for our ability  to solve mysteries, and we are thinkers rather than soldiers. We work out what a fair punishment would be in difficult cases like this.” “Like this one?” Rainbow Dash raised an eyebrow, “So you’re admitting the frozen ponies are probably a monster?” “They certainly aren’t deaths by chance,” his voice sounded bitter, almost angry when he said that, “We have to consider this a crime. I’m not saying these are the kind of monsters you deal with, there are other possible causes. Some ice-breathing monster from the Everfree Forest, maybe, or an angry pegasus or earth pony who has found a way to make their weather magic do things it normally couldn’t. There are a few possibilities, and probably many more we aren’t seeing. No, let me assure you, I won’t allow a death to be swept under the rug no matter what. But at the same time, there isn’t yet evidence to say what kind of magic could create ice like that. Until we have some clues that suggest something beyond the usual three fields, I can’t say I have any reason to ask for your assistance.” “Well, we can look at the scenes,” Twilight answered right away, “I think I’m developing a way to measure Gaia Energy magic, and if that gives a reading then we would at least know what we need to be looking for. Or if I don’t get a reading, we would know that we don’t need to involve ourselves in your case.” “We were all kind of angry,” Applejack explained, “We heard that the police were just saying ‘natural causes’, when any earth pony could tell you it isn’t. But if you’re taking it seriously, I’m sure you’ll find the truth. If it isn’t a Gaia Memory then all we need to know is that there’s somepony like you on the job.” “Don’t worry,” Gin Mixer pulled himself up proudly, “Your trust in me is not misplaced. I won’t let a case like this go unsolved, and if I don’t know all the skills I need to solve it I’ll call in those who do.” “Thank you,” Twilight smiled, “So we can –” “But I don’t know if I can allow you to any of the crime scenes unaccompanied. We’ve already been approached by a pony in a metal suit calling himself the Champion of Justice, who we were led to believe was affiliated with you. And when he offered to take some measurements at the site, to help him trace the killer, that wasn’t all he took. There’s at least some evidence taken from the scene.” “What did he take?” Twilight answered quickly, cutting off Applejack before she could give vent to her feelings about the Champion of Justice. At this point, finding out what had happened was more important than showing anger, and bringing the detective up to speed on the relationship between them and the other ‘Champion’ would only delay finding the truth. “We don’t know for sure. One of our guys said he saw Justice handling something small and shiny in the victim’s lounge. Something we hadn’t seen, or hadn’t thought was important. And he certainly examined an ornamental box that was on display in her lounge. He said it didn’t matter because it was empty, and Storm Trooper said it was empty when he looked as well. We’d wondered if it might have been a robbery, see, come to take something. But without knowing what was missing… and why would you take an empty box?” “We’d like to know that too,” Twilight muttered, but she already had one idea in mind, “But first, let’s investigate what we can. You might not like outside investigators, but if the so-called Champion of Justice is involved, the culprit is almost certainly a dopant. You need our help.” “I wouldn’t trust that guy,” Applejack added, “We still don’t know what his game is. But you can trust us. You know where we live. You know the Princess keeps a close eye on us. If we touch anything we’re not supposed to, you know where to find us.” “Wait,” Twilight realised, “You’ve met the Champion of Justice? Have you spoken to him without that ridiculous armour? We know it’s the NASCAR Memory, but we don’t know who’s underneath. If you’ve interviewed him, then you could tell us –” “No. He said he’d come in to tell us more about the magic involved, but he never showed. We  only saw him when he showed up at the crime scenes. First said he was a private investigator, then he was with you guys. That armour looks kinda like what you use, the times I’ve seen you fight monsters. In a way.” “Yeah,” Twilight nodded, “He’s not with us, though. He helped us out once or twice, and got in the way once or twice. He knows what these monsters are, better than we do maybe, but he’s not out to stop them.” “Not all of them,” Applejack couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, “Apple Bloom says there’s like different groups of monsters, fighting against each other. He’s just using us to take down his rivals, and he’s got my sister convinced that makes him the good guy. She’s promised not to tell anyone his secret, and she won’t break that even for me. I mean, you know Apple Bloom, normally she’d put family first above anything, but for this guy she won’t break that promise. I want to know what makes him so darn persuasive.” “Maybe that’s true, maybe it isn’t,” Twilight looked down, not meeting the detective’s gaze any longer. She felt like she was letting her friend down, not being able to keep somepony who might be a monster away from family. It was a blow to her pride every time she thought about it. “But what we can say is that this Justice stallion shouldn’t be–” Everypony looked at Twilight as she suddenly stopped. She’d gone from turning her eyes away to staring intently at something on Gin Mixer’s desk. “What is it?” the detective asked, “Did you find something already?” “Evening Child,” Twilight pointed to a name on a list in front of her, “Is she a suspect? I thought she already…” “No, these are victims’ names,” Gin looked at the list, “She was one of the early ones, when we first realised something was wrong. Night of the Grand Galloping Gala, while you were away out of town. We might have called you in, two mares dying of cold in one night is just a little suspicious. But one of the farmers near where she was found said it was natural, that stream always runs cold because of something in the earth. It wasn’t worth calling you back from Canterlot for. And then the next one, Ferrydancer I think, the Champion showed up and said he’d be our liason.” “So when Spike wanted to bring us in, you realised your mistake in trusting that guy,” Rainbow Dash had to fight to keep from giggling as she realised, “You didn’t call us because you thought he was with us, and after he stole your evidence you didn’t want us interfering because you thought he was with us. And then when Spike didn’t know anything about the murders, you tried to keep us away from the case because you’re ashamed to admit you fell for that jerk’s line.” “Calm down, Rainbow Dash,” Twilight sighed, “It’s not funny to laugh at another pony’s mistakes. That’s water under the bridge, and we’ve got bigger things to worry about right now. Like these names.” “What about them?” Rainbow Dash fluttered her wings slightly and hovered over Twilight, to more easily read over her shoulder.” “Ferrydancer.” Twilight spoke slowly, dredging up the memories, “Disowned her family, changed her name to Rustic Ferry because she felt it gave her some kind of charm. Selling stolen goods, we thought. Remember her?” “The Castanet –” Applejack started, but Gin Mixer couldn’t help interrupting then. “Yeah, but we could never make a case against her. When our undercover guys got too close, they ended up liking her so much they forgot to watch for evidence. How do you even know that? That’s not your business, nobody outside the police should know we suspected her.” “We didn’t know,” Twilight answered slowly, “That must have been one of your first cases, right? The police was newly formed then, and I wish we’d thought to check with you. We investigated ourselves, trying to explain a series of odd events, ponies acting out of character. We thought she had the Castanet Memory, but when we went to challenge her she was gone. Not a trace of her, and the Memory stopped being used, so we assumed she’d made the smart decision. She destroyed it, and changed her name again.” “No. She was frozen in a block of ice at the bottom of Haller’s Pond. Our best guess is it took us more than a month before we found her.” “And Evening Child was using the Yesterday Memory,” Applejack confirmed, not wanting to feel left out, “So more than one of these victims could have been a dopant. That makes this case a big deal, something we really need to sort out. We should check all the other possible dopants we’ve investigated, and all the ones we’ve taken Memories off too.” “Memories?” Gin Mixer looked back and forth between the other three, trying to get some handle on the conversation, “We can’t ask about their memories now they’re dead.” “Don’t worry about it, Detective,” Twilight answered, “We’ll be dealing with this case now. There’s some things we’ve got to keep secret, so we won’t be able to tell you all about what they’re doing, and what we’re doing to stop them. But I think you’re very good at reading ponies, so if you don’t mind I’d like to keep you involved in this case, you can just focus more  on the ‘who’ type of questions.” “Of course, of course. But it’s hard to solve a case in the dark, I wonder, could you tell me what I should be looking for? Where do we start?” “First we’ll take a look at the crime scenes. See if we can spot anything. I guess we’ll need to tell you about the scars, too. But we can talk on the way.” Sweet Pickings had a cottage on the edge of Ponyville, with a garden large enough for a few trees and a small pond. It was surrounded by blue and white bunting, that from a distance made it look like the homeowner was preparing for some kind of garden party in the sun. But once you got closer, you would see that each of the little flags was printed with the words ‘Ponyville Department of Policing - Do Not Cross’. “Nice,” Twilight muttered as she stepped over it, “Think that’ll prevent criminals from tampering with any evidence they might have originally left?” “Probably not,” Gin Mixer muttered through gritted teeth, “But maybe it’ll stop everypony who passes walking all over the scene.” Twilight Sparkle had to stop and wonder why he would seem angry over such a small thing. But then she realised that for the newly formed Department of Policing, finding any clue at the scene could be vital. Hoofprints, bits of dropped hair, even a damaged plant in the garden could be a clue. They couldn’t collect everything right away, because they might not even know what would be useful until they had a suspect in mind. So they put up these flags, warning everypony to keep away. And having been in Ponyville for a year now, it was easy to imagine just how little regard everypony would have for the little flags. Ponyville didn’t work that way, and everypony who thought their opinion mattered would just walk around the flags to see what they were supposed to keep out of. It would take a long time before the fledgling department built up the reputation it would need to enforce the law. Twilight hesitated for a few moments, going through spells in her head, and settled for a light-as-air cantrip. She’d used this little magic before, to allow her friends to walk on clouds when visiting Cloudsdale. But it should be just as good for preventing her leaving hoofprints, or moving any tiny clue on the ground. Her horn glowed, and then her hooves, and she walked carefully over to the garden pond, looking down into the depths. There wasn’t much in the way of evidence; just a pond, looking just like it should. No weed on the surface, but a few fish in the depths. She leaned down and looked closer. Most of the fish were swimming around, apparently unconcerned by the death of the pony whose garden they lived in. But right at the bottom of the pool, there were a couple floating around completely motionless. “Has anypony fed the fish?” she called over to the detective. “No?” Gin Mixer muttered, “I never thought about it. Don’t they kind of feed themselves? The garden should have been empty, anyway. Don’t come close; preserving evidence. I hope we’ve not been starving them, I wouldn’t want something like that on my conscience.” “They seem fine,” Twilight shrugged, “I’m not sure what they actually eat, if they can fend for themselves. It’s possible somepony has been in here anyway to feed them, but if not that just asks another big question.” “What question’s that, then?” “Where the water came from. From what I heard, they pulled a pony out of this pond, frozen in a block of ice. Ice is made out of water, so pulling out such a large block should have reduced the water in the pond, unless you put it back here after you chiselled the ice off the victim. The level should have dropped by two or three inches, from the size of the pond. But if you look, the plants around the edge make it quite easy to read where the water level normally is, and it hasn’t fallen at all. In fact, the only sign of movement in this pond is that on this side, some dust has been recently washed away from the stones. You can see it over there too,” Twilight pointed with a hoof, where there was a difference in shade that was barely even noticeable to Gin Mixer. He peered over from his place beyond the cordon, not wanting to disturb the scene himself until there was something to see. “So, somepony refilled the pond?” he hazarded, “Without us noticing? And they disturbed the dust when they were pouring water in?” “Good guess, but no. The stones are washed clean a few inches above the current water level on all sides, which has only one interpretation to me.” “Someone dropped a big stone in the pond,” Applejack suggested, “Pushed the water level up, and then it went back to normal when they took it away. Or, the pond got overfilled some, and she took some rocks out to lower the water level, because she knew how easy dewflowers can drown if water comes above the stem.” “I’m not thinking stones,” Twilight said, “I’m thinking a block of ice. And a pony. She was frozen like a giant ice cube, and then dropped in the pond in the hope everypony would think she just slipped in. The water level went down again when you pulled her out.” “We’re looking for a monster who can create ice, then?” Rainbow Dash asked, “Or just a really skilled weather pony out of control? We don’t know yet if this was the power of a Memory or not.” Twilight continued to investigate the scene, with Rainbow Dash looking over her shoulder from above. They looked at the plants in the garden, the lawn, and the path leading up to the pond. There wasn’t any trace of a heavy object being dragged this way, not something the size of a body. They were sure that it should have left a trail, even more so if Sweet Pickings had been already encased in ice when she was brought here. But through the whole house and garden, they didn’t find anything beyond Twilight’s original observation. Dejected, they headed back to the police station. While the day hadn’t been as productive as they had hoped, there was still some chance that either Twilight or Pinkie Pie could produce a correlation that the police had simply missed from the data in the existing police files on the cases. Back at the Golden Oak Library, Twilight quickly had every scrap of information the detective could offer spread out, read, and indexed. At least, it felt like a quick task to her. “Twilight!” Spike’s voice broke into her concentration, “Twilight! You still haven’t eaten your sandwich!” The unicorn turned her head and looked at the plate, that her number one assistant had brought in while she was busy filing. The leaves protruding from the sides looked slightly wilted by now. “It’s fine,” she replied, “I’ll just finish listing the–” “That’s what you said three hours ago!” Spike interrupted, “I know you’re the responsible adult around here, but sometimes, really, it feels like I have to be your mother. You can’t solve the case if you make yourself ill, now take a break and have something to eat.” Twilight was about to argue, until she glanced out of a high window and saw the stars in the sky outside. It had been afternoon, rather than evening, when she started this project, and she found it hard to believe that the sun could have set already. “Thanks, Spike,” she smiled and forced herself to just put down the piece of paper she was holding, rather than looking for the correct place to put it, “I think I got a bit carried away. I just hate that somepony so well liked could die like this, and I feel bad that it could happen so many times before I even knew about it!” After a light supper, Twilight was feeling a whole lot better and ready to resume the project. She took one look at the piles of notes spread across the tables and the floor, and then spotted something she hadn’t even thought of before. “You should probably get some sleep,” Spike pointed out, “It’s after midnight already. You can carry on in the morning.” “No…” Twilight whispered, flipping through the different piles of documents she had already analysed, organising them into two different sets. “Some of them are different. Some of the victims had Gaia Memories, we know that. And it’s mentioned on the police reports that several of them have scars on the flank or haunch. That’s what’s odd about it. Some of them have scars. So some of the victims were memory users we never heard about.” “You got a clue now,” Spike tried to be rational, “But I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted. We should get some sleep, and you can carry on working on it in the morning.” Twilight wasn’t really listening.  She kept on flipping through the stacks of  reports. Some of the victims had scars, but not all the same. They were all covered with frost burns on some part of their bodies, and from the descriptions, the ice could have hidden a Gaia Memory scar. On a couple of them, Evening Child and Rockface, the Memory scar was mentioned because the damage from the ice didn’t completely hide it, but because it wasn’t related to the cause of death it had been ignored. An old scar wasn’t relevant to the investigation. “But some of them are different,” Twilight spoke aloud again, “These ones here… frost damage concentrated on the neck and shoulders, or on other parts of the body. If they had Memory scars the police would have seen them, and if they’d seen five or six victims with the same kind of scars, they would surely have noticed. I plotted all the attacks on the map before, and connected lines between them according to the order. But if I separate them into two groups…” the room was lit by the pink glow of Twilight’s magic for a moment. When she’d finished, there were two maps of Ponyville hanging on the wall, each with its own set of pins. Spike stared, and now he saw what Twilight had been getting at. The two sets looked a lot more ordered now. The strings between the pins on one map were forming a kind of star pattern,while the other was still quite haphazard. “These,” she indicated the apparently random pins, “These are ponies who used Gaia Memories. The ones we know about, anyway. But the other one, that’s a star. I just included the ones who aren’t Memory users, and then put in pins for the ones we weren’t sure about who fit the pattern. It’s clear to me now, we’re dealing with two killers, with similar powers.” “We need to tell that Mixer guy,” Spike agreed, “But you can do that in the morning!” “No. Because there’s a pattern in the timing as well. One killer is targeting Memory users, while the other is picking victims based on time and place. It’s complex, but I think I can predict it. And we need to go now if we’re going to save the next victim!” High Pressure sighed, stepping out onto the cobbles. He’d failed again. It wasn’t that he had a gambling problem, because his wagers had never lost him money. As long as everypony played by the rules, he would win for sure. He was the master of reading anypony’s biggest tells, and he didn’t like to lose. But that had turned into a weakness, because Ponyville’s gambling clubs tended to throw out anypony who could win consistently at games of chance. He knew he should let his opponents snatch a few small victories occasionally, he just didn’t like to lose. After the way he’d grown up, every game felt like it was a matter of life and death. He sighed, and stopped at a small park. A lot of ponies might like a coffee or even cider on the way home from work, but the hours High Pressure devoted to his gambling meant that nowhere was open when he finished late at night. A bottle of juice and a sandwich from his bag was either a late supper or an early breakfast. He pulled the crusts off the sandwich, and considered throwing them to the ducks; but the waterfowl were asleep now just like everypony else. In the end, he carried his litter with him to dispose of when he got home, just like always. “You’re not a gambler,” a voice spoke from the shadows, “People think you are, but you’re more certain of your cards than your future.” “Yeah. That’s why I’m so rich,” he grunted, “I always win. What’s it to you?” “I came here tonight because I was waiting for somepony,” the voice carried on speaking, “But I think you have potential. How would you like to have a way to make everypony pay their debts? I think if they didn’t rip you off, you could have everything you wanted, so that could be worth something to you.” “Who are you?” High Pressure turned his head, and saw a shadowy figure standing among the trees. Larger than most other ponies, but it was impossible to make out any detail in the darkness. Then he moved and a thin strip of starlight glinted off metal, and brought into focus teeth gritted in determination. It wasn’t that scary, it could just have been somepony standing under the trees out of the wind. But the way he’d spoken, it was too easy to imagine anger and violence in that jawline. High Pressure screamed despite himself. “Sorry,” he muttered, trying to soothe his injured pride, “Just a trick of the light, I didn’t mean–” “LAUGHTERᏔJOKER!” a melodious voice rang out over the rooftops, probably loud enough to wake the nearest residents. “NASCAR!” a much more masculine, and hostile, voice responded from the trees. There  was a similarity between them, though, a kind of metallic ringing to the voice that High Pressure had never heard before. The gambler abandoned his dignity and scrambled into a pile of leaves, not knowing what was going on here and just wishing he was somewhere a long distance away. “You!” Twinkie barked as they skidded to a halt on the path, spraying gravel in all directions. “What are you doing here?” “I’m trying to catch a rogue dopant,” the Champion of Justice sounded just as irritated, “I’ve been sitting in wait for an hour, just waiting for her to show up.” “You spotted the pattern?” “Right. And this one is mine. Don’t interfere.” He wasn’t yelling, but the anger was clear in his voice. A simmering rage, that immediately made Twilight think the stallion wouldn’t let the dopant live if he found them. “No way. We’re the Champions of Harmony, dealing with dopants is our job. Who put you on the case? The Memory users need to be returned to normal, and prosecuted according to the law if applicable, you can’t hurt them just because of what those things turned them into.” “Maybe if you understood, you wouldn’t talk so much rot,” the red-clad champion snarled, “Some of them lost control. Some don’t have the strength of will to be part of the New Race. But some…” “And that’s reason to kill them?” Twinkie snapped. Those kind of sentiments were enough to make both Twilight and Pinkie Pie mad, and the anger in their combined voice felt almost like a physical force. But the Champion of Justice ignored them, and kept on as if they hadn’t spoken. “But some of them are pure evil. The dopant with the winter powers, I’ve been tracking for months now. She’s only got a 3.5G Gaia Memory, we’re pretty sure, but she’s mastered using it and subjugated any positive emotions she might have had, to become more skilled at killing. She interrupted a wedding to try and seize control of the Gaia Fountain, so she can make her own Memories and conquer all of Equestria. She tried to kill my fiancée, and her sisters too. The dopant with winter powers is a true monster, and you should keep out of this fight. You don’t have the strength.” “No,” Twilight replied, speaking to the self-proclaimed hero like he was a petulant child, “You keep out of this, if you don’t have the heart to show mercy. You keep on talking about self-control, but a minute later you’re talking about vengeance. There’s no control there, that’s just anger. You’re controlled by your darkest feelings, as much as any other dopant. You’ve helped us before, so I’ll give you the chance to think about what you’re doing. But when we catch the winter dopant, we’ll be bringing justice, not revenge.” “ENGINE!” the red stallion produced his second Gaia Memory. A moment later he was standing on his hind legs to tower over Twinkie, a sword gripped tightly in one hoof. “JET!” “I guess that’s a ‘no’ then?” Pinkie said, ever optimistic as Twilight focused her attention on their legs to leap out of the way of a sweeping sword stroke. “I’ve given you enough chances,” the Nascar monster snarled, “You don’t get what we’re doing, but you’re trying to help. So I gave you every chance. But I will not let you protect this monster.” (“I think the dopant already fled,” Twilight muttered in the privacy of their shared mind, “Think we can just ditch this guy?”) (“I think so. And we learned something, at least. He seems sure that the dopant is a ‘she’ this time. I don’t know if he’ll tell us anything else, though, this sounds like one of those evil nemesis, lifelong quest for revenge things out of the comics. It could be romantic, if we knew the full story even.”) (“We have to beat him, though. Or at least make sure the Memory user is in the Princesses’ custody before he finds out who it is. And we learned he’s married, too, so we’ve got a new clue on two enemies.”) (“Well, it’s better than nothing!”) The mental communication was faster than speech, the whole exchange had taken just less than a second. But the Champion of Justice only needed a second to transfer his Gaia Memory from his body to the sword. “JET: MAXIMUM DRIVE!” Twilight knew she wasn’t fast enough to leap aside, when the sword was trailing a dazzling glare of magical energy to either side. She wasn’t strong enough to catch the attack with her magic either, so she did the only thing she could think of in the circumstances; she popped the Joker Memory out of the Driver, hoping that the wave of energy from a transformation would give them some kind of protection. “LAUGHTERᏔHONESTY!” the Driver called out. Now, instead of a fine silver and gold braid joining the halves of two ponies, heavy-set muscles were covered by a coat that shaded smoothly from rich orange to bright pink, and the armour similarly looked like a single piece made in two tones of rock, rather than two mismatched halves. The burst of light as they changed distracted their opponent, and maybe he hesitated for just a moment. That gave Apple Pie a perfect excuse to put Pinkie’s acrobatic skill and the raw power of Applejack’s bucking to good use. They leaned forward on their forehooves, and then lifted one leg off the ground, throwing their body to pivot around the other. That let the full power of Applejack’s kick smash into the hilt of the Engine Blade, and into the red-armoured stallion’s fetlock. The Memory from the sword’s hilt sprang into the air, and the Champion of Justice only just recovered his balance in time to catch it. He was in pain now, and that added to the rage building in his mind over the reappearance of the wintery dopant. He was no stranger to pain, he had worked himself to exhaustion more than a few times as he grew up, to spare others the burden. But he’d never been hurt like that while in his Champion form before. He hoped that the bone wasn’t broken, because that was the kind of injury that would need some very special magic to treat. In any case, the object of his vengeance had clearly been scared off already, as had the stallion who he’d thought would be so well-suited to the Cash Memory. He didn’t want to hurt the Champion of Harmony, as much as they’d angered him, so the best plan was escape. “STEAM!,” the pseudo Memory roared as he flipped the Type Selector on the back and returned it to his sword. Clouds of steam surged out of the sword, a mist that made it almost impossible to see. Apple Pie knew that they would have to give the strange sword their full attention if they wanted to avoid its strike when it burst out of the fogbank, and that meant they would be in an entirely defensive posture, not prepared to give chase after an impossibly fast enemy. But they’d learned new things since the last time they faced Nascar, and maybe a little more practice had given them all the edge they needed. It only took the slightest tap with a hoof to set the Elements of Harmony deeper into the Driver, and they could do that before the Champion of Justice’s weapon had finished powering up for its own Maximum Drive. “LAUGHTERHONESTY: Maximum Drive!” The supercharged kick burst through the cloud of steam like a spear, aimed directly at the Gaia Energy of the Memory that two earth ponies couldn’t normally sense. The echoes of the Engine Memory’s declaration were still in the air when it burst out of the sword for a second time, and his attack was never completed. The mist in the air was just enough, though, to cover his escape. (“We need to get after him!” Applejack yelled, but Pinkie seemed reluctant to pursue the silhouette into the distance) (“No, look at this!” Pinkie pointed with one hoof. “Twilight will want to see this for sure! And I think we might have stopped him already.”) There was a Gaia Memory on the ground, with a long crack down the middle. Apple Pie poked at it with a hoof, and found that it was red hot but with no remaining aura of magic around it. The name on the front said Engine, beneath an ‘E’ styled to look like some kind of complex mechanism of gears and pistons. But on the back, rather than the single push-button they had come to expect, was a sliding switch that allowed the user to choose from choices marked ‘Steam’, ‘Electric’, or ‘Jet’. The switch was immovable now, the slide destroyed by the crack across it, but it was certainly something unlike any Gaia Memory they had seen before. While they were still staring at it, Twilight teleported in to see how the battle had gone. She was glad that they had survived without harm, and a little disappointed that they hadn’t  managed to arrest the Champion, but she hadn’t  thought that was too likely. But the broken Memory was a clear enough sign. Twilight could take the trophy back to her library, for study in the morning. And Pinkie Pie and Applejack could return to their beds, safe in the knowledge that the wintery dopant’s attack had been at least delayed, and that the Champion of Justice was in no position to exact his revenge. For once, it would be a quiet night in Ponyville.