In the hotel lobby, Rarity the unicorn paused to check her eyelashes in the floor-length mirror.
Oh, the parka with the faux-fur hood shone like the rainbow scales of an arctic salmon; she didn’t have to worry about how that looked. The padded hoof boots and ornamental polo wraps on her legs were just the right shade of aqua; ideal as understated accents for the whole. Not to mention the white beads braided into her purple pigtail ran in a single snakelike curve down her left side, catching the light just so.
No, it was those darn false eyelashes slipping off. They were going to make or break the ensemble. Everything had to be perfect.
“Will you stop fussin’, already?” Applejack chuckled and strode past her to the exit. “You look fine. All geared up to be the star of the show.”
“D’you reckon we’ll see Sapphire Shores there?” Apple Bloom hurried after her sister. “Or Calamity Mane? Coloratura! You reckon we might see Coloratura!?”
Still fiddling delicately around her eyelid, Rarity sighed quietly. Her inner radar, which had bleeped timidly at the errant eyelash, began screaming and wailing at the haybale-in-a-hurricane look of Applejack’s – for want of a better word – “ponytail”. It wasn’t as if the mare had no idea how to style herself up. She just had this strange idea that there was no need to.
“Manehattan,” she said coolly, “is a high-class location at the best of times, Applejack, and I like to think I’ve been patient with you so far –”
“Here’s the keys.” Applejack tossed them over to the reception desk, earning a disapproving eyebrow from the receptionist behind it. “You got a lovely place here, you know? A li’l’ old next to the rest of the city, maybe, but that’s why Ah like it.”
“Please excuse her manners.” Rarity threw a chuckle and a polite smile to the receptionist’s reflection, ignoring the way Apple Bloom kept running around in circles yelling random names. “She only meant that this establishment has a certain antique charm and plenty of historical-traditional cachet.”
“What she said,” Applejack said. The receptionist smiled and nodded. “Takes me back to when Ah was a filly. Mah Aunt and Uncle Orange lived in a place that looked like this one. Fancy pants bedroom an’ everythin’.”
After a banging of boards down the stairs, Sweetie Belle traipsed into the lobby. She was wearing a miniature version of Rarity’s Frozen North ensemble, and judging by her gloomy frown, it wasn’t her own idea.
“I don’t want to get up on the stage,” she murmured to the floor. “Not with all those ponies looking at me.”
“You won’t be on for long,” Rarity said, trying to sound soothing. “Don’t worry, Sweetie Belle. We’ll all be there with you, and, ahaha, it’s not as if I’m asking you to sing a solo, n’est pas?”
Sweetie Belle threw the hood back and groaned. “Can’t I at least take this thing off? I’m boiling. And Apple Bloom and Applejack aren’t wearing theirs.”
“It’s tradition,” said Apple Bloom. “Earth ponies din’t wear ‘em, ‘cause in the snow we’re tough as teak! Ain’t that right, AJ?”
“Eeyup,” said Applejack.
“But unicorns know magic.” Sweetie Belle shook her head, accidentally whacking herself with her own braided ponytail. “So why can’t I use a snuggle-cuddle spell to keep me warm?”
“Because,” said Rarity, finally turning away from the mirror, “it hadn’t been invented yet, that’s why. Come, come, Sweetie Belle! This is a historical occasion! Not only has the Ancient Crystal Idol been found after thousands of years –”
“If I keep this stuff on for the show,” said Sweetie Belle, a smile blooming on her face, “then can I see Coloratura in her hotel suite?”
Rarity’s face went whiter than usual. Coloratura was a tough one to approach at the best of times, and with so many more guards around and the new lockdowns these days…
“Oh shucks, Sweetie Belle. Ah can get you in there,” said Applejack hurriedly. She glanced sidelong at Rarity. “She’s mah friend. Don’t worry about it. But you gotta wear the suit for us, OK? Sweetie Belle?”
“Hmm…” For the look of the thing, Sweetie Belle tapped her chin thoughtfully before saying, “OK.”
“Can Ah see her too?”
“Of course you can, Apple Bloom. Ah wouldn’t leave you out.”
And she’s going to sneak off and meet the Oranges before the show starts, Rarity thought gloomily. She doesn’t wear the clothes I spend all night making for her – OK OK, without consulting her first, but she refuses to wear anything now – and she looks like a bird’s nest with a hat on top, and she talks… well… others would say she talks like a hick who just got into the city. So how can she be so relaxed about it?
She tried rearranging her eyelashes again, and squeaked at a poke in the eye.
Both of the hotel doors swung open to let Sweetie Belle chase Apple Bloom out into the snow. Applejack shut the doors on their giggles and shuffled over to her.
“You’re not gettin’ stage fright, are ya?” she said with a grin.
“Stage fright? Moi?” she spluttered. “Please, Applejack. Even if I’d been born with stage fright, I would’ve been on enough catwalks since to have had it knocked clean out of me.”
“Well. Good.” Applejack peeked into the mirror and adjusted the tilt of her hat with a flick of her head. “Ah ain’t got no stage fright neither. None of us got nothin’ to worry about.”
Outside, they heard the clanking of armour and the thunder of hoofsteps. Their sisters’ giggles died down until it passed.
“Uh,” said Applejack. “Maybe Ah ought to go out an’ check on ‘em.” She shifted towards the front doors. “Ah mean, it ain’t like the old Manehattan. You could leave foals to play out in the streets for hours back then.”
“I’m sure we have nothing to worry about, Applejack. We’re going to be among the highest of the high. There’ll be Royal Guards everywhere, even without the, uh… unfortunate incidents.”
“Sure! Sure.” Despite herself, a twitch escaped from Applejack’s stoic face.
She’s thinking about Babs Seed, Rarity thought. The poor dear. I know you think you’re, uh, ‘tough as teak’, Applejack, but it’s not as if you’ll get snapped up by showing a little emotion.
Ah well. Rarity breathed in deeply and swelled so suddenly she almost rose off the red carpet.
“Let’s not spoil the mood, shall we? We have a noble mission!” With a toss of her head, Rarity powered up her horn and made the front doors burst open. “Magnificence waits for no mare. The show will go on, come what may, and I’d like to see the force that could stop it.”
The branches slumped with snow in the park. They left Bridle Path and crossed the grassy shadows of the pine trees before reaching the edge of the Great Lawn. Despite the thick padding of her parka and polo wraps, Rarity winced as she crunched after the heads of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, who were racing each other.
“I d-don’t kn-know how you can st-stand this c-c-c-cold,” she stammered to Applejack, who seemed to be cruising over the thick snow on her torso.
Applejack shrugged. “Eh. Ah try not to think about it. Ooh, mind yerself.”
As they struggled on through the snow, a shimmering wall of pink flared into existence. They passed through, Rarity shuddering when the magical sparks slid over her exposed skin, Applejack merely wincing at the barrier splashing into her face. Once their tails were through, the domed shield over the park faded out of sight.
Up ahead, passing the two sisters leaping over the snow at each other, two pegasi were pulling a sled their way. The unicorn on the sled sat back and waved at them, occasionally stopping to shout “Mush!” at the pegasi.
“Ha! Ah mighta guessed. Trenderhoof,” said Applejack with a smirk, and she nudged Rarity’s shoulder. “Looks like your special somepony’s here.”
“D-Don’t start, you!” Rarity suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. Her parka was much too itchy.
“Well, well, my old friends!” Trenderhoof whistled, and the two pegasi stopped and hovered so the sled was right in front of Applejack. “What are you thinking, wandering about like that? Come, you must have my sled! It would be unbecoming of me to let such radiant beauty freeze over.”
Rarity peered at the tiny, one-pony sled. If she was warm before, then now she was melting the snow all around her. “Wh-What? All th-three of us?”
Trenderhoof gave an indulgent smile and hopped into the snow, only to squeal at the shock. When they both moved towards him, however, he waved them off, trying not to weep.
“F-Fear not! I am a tr-traveller,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m used to all k-kinds of exotic – even unpl-pl-pleasant – climes, c-cold not ex-exempted. Crease not your tender brows for me.”
Applejack shrugged and hopped aboard, but Rarity winced and stepped onto the sled in as ladylike a manner as possible. Even through the padding, she was uncomfortably aware of the earth mare’s body pressing against her side.
While the pegasi flapped and their younger sisters chased the sled and Trenderhoof stumbled through the snow alongside, Rarity looked across the Great Lawn and sighed. Fringed by the icing-white covering of the trees, the stage loomed almost as highly as the distant spire of Beldam Castle. Teams of earth ponies strapped on ploughs and cleared away piles of white, exposing the green grass below. Several caravans marked the perimeter, and a dozen or so ponies gathered on the ring path that was the Great Lawn Oval.
“Bad business, I’m afraid,” said Trenderhoof. “Joy Denim was scheduled to meet with us onstage for rehearsals, but she… well…”
Ice slid down Rarity’s spine. Joy Denim too? No! Not here, not now! She can’t have! They told legends about how good her bodyguards were, even in a riot.
“No way,” said Applejack. “Don’t tell me she disappeared too?”
“It was a shock to all of us.” Trenderhoof squinted and peered at the stage. “Her of all ponies! Thank goodness we managed to find a replacement. Miss Polomare is running a bit late, though.”
Rarity groaned into her fur-lined hood. Suri Polomare, it had to be. Of course Suri would still be around. The mare was as sticky as chewing gum, and a much worse thing to have stuck in one’s hair.
Not that types like Suri were rare in the fashion industry. There was always a frustrated newcomer or waning star desperate enough to take a little too much inspiration from someone else’s wardrobe. Suri didn’t need an excuse, though. Rarity remembered her from Fashion Week; the irritating little laugh, that patronizing smile, the cheerful way she’d patiently explain why robbing someone else’s fabric was not only OK, but practically a lifesaving move in the big, cruel city.
No one was on the stage, though, which was just as well: Rarity had half a mind to jump off the sled and shout at the stupid, grinning, conniving little backstabber. Suri ought to have ended up penniless in the gutter. But something told her that bloodsuckers like Suri probably didn’t stay down for long. It would be like trying to kill a vampire.
Only when the pegasi stopped and the sled skidded to a halt did she realize they were on the exposed grass. Applejack hopped down.
“Very… crystally,” she said.
“Eloquently put, my dear Applejack!” Trenderhoof extended a hoof to guide Rarity down, but she shook her head. “It’s all part of the themed exhibition. Princess Cadence herself will be attending.”
“Magnificent!” For the moment, Rarity sidelined her boiling rage and the connoisseur came to the fore. “Ah, I know that pattern in the mural! Gemstone symbolism at its most spectacular.”
“That was my idea. I once visited the royal ballrooms of the Crystal Palace in the Frozen North, and I’ve been waiting for years for an opportunity like this.”
Ponies crisscrossed the lawn around them. A curtain fluttered at the back of the stage, and one of the Royal Guards poked his head out.
“Sir,” he rumbled, nodding respectfully. “There’s a few mares back here who wanna get your autograph. Want me to clear ‘em out?”
Despite herself, Rarity bristled. “A few mares?”
“Absolutely not! I respect all my admirers and fans.” Trenderhoof leaped onto the stage and turned around. “Coco will be waiting for you in the silver trailer on the left. I’ll let the organizers know you’ve arrived. Must dash. Ta ta for now!”
Rarity fought against the red mist descending over her face. Come on, come on, that was long ago. You’ve grown up since. Let it go.
“Boy howdy,” said Applejack with a grin. “Ah could fry an egg on your face.”
“Anyone would be annoyed if they found out something as horrible as Suri Polomare was involved in this wonderful show!” Nevertheless, Rarity didn’t quite meet her eye.
“You still got feelings for ‘im, aincha?”
“Sometimes, Applejack,” she replied calmly, “one could hear from you a little less honesty and a little more courtesy.”
“Sorry. Ah din’t mean nothin’ by it.” And because Applejack was scarcely acquainted with sayings like “don’t put your hoof in it”, she added, “You’re gonna have to do somethin’ about that blushin’ whenever he’s around, though.”
“Applejack, please!”
“Well, some might think you were a bit hot in that getup.”
Rarity’s inner shock-meter actually exploded at this point. “Applejack, do you mind?”
“Sorry. Sorry. Shuttin’ up now. You cook yourself in whatever clothes you like. That’s all Ah’m sayin’.”
Rarity winced at an itch developing under her pit. Next to her, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle clambered up onto the stage and gawped at the decorations.
“I think it’s about time I went to see Coco. It’s been a while, and the poor dear’s probably worried sick.” Rarity began striding around the stage to the nearest caravan, wincing at the numbness creeping through her legs. “Applejack, didn’t you have a fundraiser stall to set up, too?”
“Sure. Ah’ll keep an eye on these two as well. We won’t go far.”
Overhead, the domed shield flared and then vanished into the grey skies again.
On the bank of the Tortoise Pond, Coco Pommel adjusted her sailor collar. She blinked at her shivering reflection in the frozen water.
Several yards behind her, the other mares crowded around the back of the stage and squealed and screamed. Part of her suddenly wanted to be far, far away, but the rest of her cuffed it round the head.
No. Stop thinking like that. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.
Smiling, she turned around. Her nose brushed against the bulrushes rimming the pond, and she couldn’t stop the sneeze bursting out of her nostrils.
“Oh dear.” Coco rubbed her nose, but knew immediately it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, she ambled up the hill to where the Royal Guard was waving some of the mares away, thinning the crowd.
Her saddlebags chafed against her sides. At the back of the crowd, she paused to rummage around inside one – sneezing as she did so – and rooted out a photograph and a ballpoint pen. She placed both in her mouth as delicately as she could while she replaced the bag, forcing back a nostril-ripping sneeze out of sheer embarrassed fear.
Some of the mares had badges pinned onto their saddle blankets and anoraks. The nearest mare – a unicorn with earmuffs wedged tightly over her head – turned slightly to get a better look, and the badge showed a tiny head like the profile of a coin. It had a laurel wreath around its scalp.
“Ancient Crystal Idol badges,” she breathed. “I knew I forgot something.”
The unicorn gave a start and peered over her shoulder.
“You mean this thing?” she said. “Here, you can have it if you want.”
Coco drew back from the levitating badge. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I’ll buy my own later.”
“Buy? Hahaha! You don't have to buy them. They were giving them away. Don’t worry about it! I needed to get some more for my friends anyway. Here, allow me.”
Reluctantly, Coco raised her chin so the unicorn could pin it onto her collar. At times like this, she had the unaccountable but strong feeling that she’d done something horribly wrong. Nevertheless, she smiled and nodded her head in thanks.
The next few mares broke away, enabling Trenderhoof to step forwards. “And what a pleasure to meet you too on this fine winter’s day, Miss…?”
“Minuette,” said the unicorn while he gave her his autograph. “It is so amazing to actually meet you, Mister Trenderhoof! I’ve read all your travel books! I loved Shining the Light on the Crystal Empire. It inspired me to go up there on the train and see everything for myself.”
“Wonderful! Exactly what I like to hear!”
“The others aren’t going to believe this when I tell them! Do you mind if I get a snap?” She held up a camera and waggled her eyebrows.
Coco ignored the flashes and found her gaze drifting out beyond the Great Lawn Oval, beyond the Tortoise Pond, and to the grey silhouette of the Beldam Castle. Even when the magical barrier flared with another pony’s passing through the shield wall, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy and unsafe. There was something about the castle that made her feel… watched.
“And who’s your lovely friend here?” said Trenderhoof.
Coco snapped back into the present to find him giving her a knowing wink. “P-Pardon?” she said.
“Oh, she’s Coco Pommel. Rarity told me all about her when I was visiting my friends in Ponyville.” Minuette gasped and took pictures of the landscape beyond. “The park is so tranquil this time of year. It’s like a picture postcard!”
“You,” said Coco, trying to keep up and blushing when she did so, “knew who I was? From Rarity?”
“Yeah! I’m from Ponyville. Well, not technically, of course, I just visit there, I’m actually from Canterlot, but I might as well live there! I spend more time in the country than in the city.”
To Coco’s alarm, Trenderhoof beamed and placed a forelimb over each of their shoulders. “You know, I think we’re going to get along swimmingly. Why don’t we enjoy the beautiful desolation of Manehattan in winter? It's absolutely stunning.”
With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the Royal Guard. Coco whimpered as he steered her and Minuette down to the bulrushes, where they stood and where he finally let them go. As one, their eyes turned away from the winding shrubbery along the far bank, and up to the imposing spire.
In the dim grey mist that settled like snow through the air, Beldam Castle was pointy and jagged, a bit – or so Coco thought – like a crystal spike. As a filly, she’d latched onto the idea that it was haunted by the ghosts of long-dead kings. Since then, she’d learned it was just a folly – a decorative building that had no actual history behind it, kingly or otherwise – but she hadn’t quite shaken off the idea of long-dead eyes peeking back from those dark arched windows.
“It was said,” murmured Trenderhoof in an unnecessarily dramatic voice, “that at its peak the Great Crystal Empire once extended all the way to the other side of the world. It was certainly far enough down to build outposts across what we now call Equestria. They even built one here, on the future site of Manehattan.”
Looking at that castle behind the trees and the pond, Coco believed him instantly.
“Ooh, that’s a creepy thought,” Minuette said cheerfully. “Can you imagine those long-dead emperors and empresses terrorizing the poor ponies? And on this very ground we’re standing on right now!”
“It’s a good thing the Crystal Empire’s a lot nicer now,” said Coco.
“Oh, the northern one is,” said Minuette. “I heard rumours of a southern empire. They say it carries on in the Great Crystal Empire’s place, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to seize the north again. Isn't that sweet?”
Trenderhoof chuckled. “Relax. It’s just a rumour. No expedition has ever discovered a southern empire. Besides, the northern one we know and love so well has suffered enough punishment. The likes of King Sombra were nothing but a wintry descent before the rise of a modern spring. Times have changed now.”
Coco peered down at her reflection in the ice, suppressing a sneeze that creased her snout. Punishment. The word slammed into her mind like a lead weight.
It didn’t matter, did it, if someone who’d done awful things turned over a new page? After all, so long as it didn’t – couldn’t – happen again, then there was no need for any actual punishment. Times change. That’s exactly right.
Still…
“What,” she said to Minuette, “did Rarity say about me exactly?”
“Lots of nice things! Believe me.” The unicorn snapped another shot of the castle.
And yet you haven’t offered to take my photograph.
“I used to be a fashion designer, you know,” said Coco, and then wondered why she’d said it. Am I showing off? Is he snubbing me? Or am I trying to reassure someone? Every single one seemed likely: the cocktail of emotions mixed and swirled above the burning pit of her stomach.
“Hmm.” Trenderhoof gave her a sidelong look that made her wish she hadn’t spoken. “I see. I’m sorry to hear you’re not continuing your fashion designs. They could have been the next best thing, and I should know. I've seen a few.”
I wanted to continue it. “I… needed something more secure. Rarity offered me a job at her Manehattan boutique.”
“Oh? What do you do there?”
Coco blushed and struggled not to sneeze. In spite of the winter chill permeating the air, she was burning up.
Fortunately, Minuette broke the silence: “Is Rarity here? I haven’t seen her since the train station.”
“Oh yes,” said Trenderhoof. “She’s in her caravan right now.”
“I, uh…” Coco didn’t make eye contact, but simply turned and strode away. “I have to go help her. Nice to meet you, Mister Trenderhoof! Bye, Minuette.”
Only once she was past the stage did she let her sneezing fit explode. Anything to stop herself from imagining the looks they’d be giving her retreating back.
Royal Guards patrolled around the perimeter of the Oval. Once more, the shield flared and then vanished.
“No, no, no!”
Rarity sighed as Photo Finish, fashion photographer of Equestria, paced in front of yet another confused model. It didn’t matter what dress they used or how many gemstones Rarity stuck on the things; nothing she did ever seemed to get anything other than another round of sniping.
“You cannot give them a cake that is baked in half!” Photo Finish batted the feathery headdress with a backhoof. “The Princess of ze Crystal Empire vill be here to honour the fashion show. Do you vant her to be rollink around on the floor laughink?”
“Miss Finish,” snapped Rarity, who was starting to wish she’d taken the darn parka off, “I will have you know I am good friends with Princess Cadence, and if she rolls around on the floor laughing at something, then you jolly well thank her for her good sense of humour!”
On the quiet, the model slipped a steaming mug off the dresser and slipped out the door for a quick drink.
“Zis is no laughink matter!” Photo Finish tapped the idol badge pinned to the front of her dress. “Zis show iz about all ze brave poniez who shtood up to ze Great Crystal Empire on zis most glorious day! Ve need to zink like zem: ze audacity, ze hopelessness, ze day of reckonink, ze triumph!”
“I know what we’re going for. It was my idea to begin with. Look: the crystalline armour plating, the pegasine imperial helmet headdress, the braccae and paludamentum –”
“What?”
Rarity threw her head back irritably. “The pants and the cape. It’s historically accurate and, more to the point, it is a bold retro reinvigoration of modern fashion sensibilities. Military dress has a long and distinguished history of reinvigorating fashions.”
“It iz a laughink shtock! I vill not permit it on zis show!”
“Then give me five minutes and I will try something else! Just because you don’t like my ideas, doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing!”
“Very vell, so be it. But I varn you; if it does not impress the preliminary judges at rehearsal, zen it is not going any further. And now, ve go!”
Rarity slammed the door behind her and her stupid accent which was probably fake anyway, and replaced the orange-rimmed glasses on her snout. She levitated the list and flicked through the items.
Despite the ice crackling through her veins, her mind giggled at the buzz still ringing through it. Ponies had been admiring her dresses for so long that, in a strange way, it was actually a relief to find one criticizing her.
Where did I go wrong? She turned to the wardrobe, where fabulous ensembles of every description bulged and threatened to crack the woodwork. I was just a simple country dressmaker. I ran a haberdashery from my parents’ front yard just to save up enough for a shop of my own. I dreamed of marrying princes. I thought I’d have to spend my entire life selling stuff to my next-door neighbours before I could go somewhere like Canterlot and Manehattan.
Rarity sighed. There was still the old Carousel Boutique, of course, but now she had a third of her mind in Canterlot, and another third in Manehattan’s Saddle Row. Her own outlets – hers – in the most cosmopolitan cities on the planet!
And that nagging little voice in her head that said: Now what? You dreamed of castles and palaces, and now you’ve captured them. It didn’t matter if she opened more shops in more towns. After those two prize cities, that’d just be mopping up.
When Coco finally entered, Rarity was staring at her dresses. The unicorn barely twitched at the click as the door shut.
“Sorry I’m late,” said Coco.
“Believe me, you’re not missing much.” Rarity turned around, and her gaze flickered towards the badge on the saddlebag before the old smile, like a well-trained butler, jumped to her service. “It’s good to see you again, Coco.”
She ignored the sneeze.
“You’re looking well. I seem to be down one model, so would you be a dear and hold still for a moment?”
Rarity’s horn glowed. No one had any idea how much power she actually wielded, least of all Rarity herself, but when she focused, the magic came easily. Dresses, scissors, bags bulging with knitwear, measuring tapes, and Coco’s saddlebags rose into the air, swirling all around them. One dress drifted down to Coco, Rarity forced a flash of light, and the next moment her assistant stood in a cerulean pinafore dress over a cream blouse.
“Understated,” murmured Rarity aloud, “but with a definite balance between down-to-earth plainness and angelic class, and the colour scheme is just right for the occasion.”
Coco fidgeted and lowered her ears as though she herself was being described. “Um, Rarity? I was wondering if I might make a few costume suggestions?”
Another flash; the dress flowed among the swirling elements again. “Go on. I am listening.”
Perhaps something more modern, like a slip dress with lace trimmings? No… too conservative. Try… no, get rid of that bow. The pink is ghastly.
“Maybe,” she said when she sensed Coco had finished talking. “Just let me try a couple of ideas out first.”
A corner of Rarity’s psyche glared at her. What am I doing, hogging all the attention? I’ve got plenty of avenues to show off. Give the poor girl a chance.
Everything landed in a circular heap around them. Rarity sighed.
“I’m terribly sorry, Coco.” She sat down. “It’s just I’ve been a bit… unfocused, lately. Please, work ad libitem. This anniversary is your moment to shine too.”
“Oh, thank you Rarity! I promise I’ll make it up to you!”
“Nonsense. You have nothing to make up for.”
Coco held up a fragment of silk. “May I?”
Well, yes. That’s what “ad libitem” means. “Be my guest.”
Tiny hooves knocked on the door, and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle peered round the doorway.
“Oh, sorry.” Sweetie Belle made to shut the door again, but Rarity’s horn glowed and it stayed open. “We thought Applejack might be in here.”
“You’re not disturbing anything,” said Rarity hurriedly. Frowning, she added, “And why would you think that? She’s supposed to be watching you two.”
“We can take care of ourselves! We’re not babies!”
Sometimes, Rarity’s mind could work very fast. She groaned into a hoof. “Please, please, please don’t tell me you somehow gave her the slip.”
“Ah went to her stall afterwards” – And yes, I did notice you avoiding the question, Apple Bloom – “but she weren’t there. An’ she knows Ah’d head to some place where Ah knew she’d be if we wandered off. An’ we din’t leave the Oval neither!”
“Oh no.” Coco dropped the fabric she’d been holding up. “Not another pony! And today of all days.”
“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” said Rarity, who’d personally coronated herself dozens of times before now. “Applejack has some brains and plenty of common sense. I’m sure she’s perfectly fine. Show some faith in the poor girl.”
“We’d best make sure we know where she is, in any case,” insisted Sweetie Belle.
Rarity growled, but under the layers of irritation and dismissal, a faint spark of worry flickered. “If it’ll make you feel better, then let’s go find her. Sorry, Coco. I’ll be back to see what you come up with soon enough, because Applejack is going to be fine.”
On her way out, Rarity paused to check her pigtail in the mirror, and felt a little warmth of pride when she saw Coco leaping onto the nearest dresses.
“Excuse me,” said Applejack, “but have y’all seen two ponies? About mah height? Mare and a stallion? Go by the name o’ Orange?”
She shook her head sadly, because the unicorns shrugged and wandered towards the caravans. It wasn’t the fillies that bothered her: long summers keeping an eye on the “Cutie Mark Crusaders” had given her the almost psychic knowledge of where the two fillies would wander off to. Besides, they’d be safe enough inside the bubble with all these guards around – she passed a pair of them patrolling along the Oval – and both were smart enough to stick close to a trusted adult. Heck, she’d seen Coloratura and Coco Pommel among the near-hundred ponies now milling about, and they loved foals. There were enough eyes around to spot trouble.
Applejack stopped the next pair of ponies, but she barely got halfway through her question when they mouthed “no” and hurried along.
Not that she’d admit it to Rarity, but there was still that little filly inside her whose eyes sparkled at the skyscrapers of Manehattan. She was feeling the old dizziness creeping up on her, as though she was wandering through the city for the first time. And sometimes it was nice, just nice, to use her Manehattanite accent with someone who wouldn’t gape or laugh at her, or at least shuffle their hooves and cough.
As she walked along, a figure darted between the tree trunks on her left.
It had only been an instant, and a regular citizen would’ve missed it, or thought it was a trick of the shadows.
She knew about the recent kidnappings. Up until a week ago, the targets had usually been – and she hated even to think the term – “lower-class” unicorns, or wanderers whom no one would miss. Two days ago, the newspapers burst with stories of famous ponies disappearing from locked rooms and private safe houses. Rarity had wailed on that day, but the names meant nothing to Applejack.
Moving with surprising stealth, she pressed her back against the nearest trunk. Farmers dealt with unwelcome visitors every now and again, so she’d had plenty of practice. In any case, she’d spent a good chunk of her fillyhood sneaking past Granny Smith’s room for midnight snacks.
Barely ruffling the leaves, she half-crawled, half-slid under cover of the shrubs, wincing at the patches of snow where the canopy gave way to sky-exposed holes.
Someone scuffed the ground on the other side of the tree. Applejack pressed her back up against the trunk. Although her body was stiff, she allowed herself a small smirk. Now Ah gotcha.
No one moved for a few minutes. Whoever lurked behind the tree, they were probably waiting to ambush a passing pony.
To her relief, two patrolling guards were coming her way. As soon as they saw her, she raised a hoof to her lips and pointed as obviously as she could to the tree behind her. Her eyes were as serious as she could make them.
Both guards nodded. As one, they slowed to a soft tread, years of military experience trumping heavy armour and sheer weight. Their unicorn horns glowed golden.
Three… she mouthed… two… one.
To her shock, two beams of light arced around the trunk. Before anyone blinked, the beams struck the guards between the eyes.
Applejack lunged. A third beam hit her between the eyes. Then, unexpectedly, it crackled and vanished, leaving absolutely no effect.
She swung around the trunk and rammed into the pony waiting there. Both she and her victim tumbled onto a patch of snow – the cold bit into her shoulders when the grey brightness stung her eyes – and Applejack straightened up, all four hooves pinning the enemy's legs to the leaf litter.
Suri Polomare cringed. “Hey! Ex-cuse me, but I’m not the jerk you want, jerk!”
Applejack gaped. Yet it was the dressmaker all right: the same curly hair held back by a headband; the same upmarket Manehattanite accent; the same bad attitude. Only two things didn’t quite fit. The first was the constant cringing, and even if she still had her old bravado, it was now reduced to a decoy, for the stench of fear radiated off of her like sewer water off a rat.
The second was the use of magic.
“What did you do to them guards?” Applejack snapped. “And how?”
“Me!? I’m a victim and an earth pony! Get off me, ‘kay!?”
Two bodies groaned and hit the grass behind her.
“It’s a trap, you moron!” Suri’s gaze flitted past the farmer’s face. “Behind you!”
Applejack spun around and saw a crystalline hoof coming the other way. Instinct threw her backwards and upright, and the crystal pony’s punch became a swipe that smacked her chest-first into the ground. Suri cried out, leaves and snow smothered Applejack’s spluttering face, and crashing leaves mixed with the sound of four cantering hooves fading away.
She rolled forwards into a sitting position. Down the slope and away from the Oval, the kidnapper broke into a gallop. Suri’s screaming face shrank away.
Barely registering the ache in her shoulders, Applejack threw herself into a gallop, ignoring the shouts coming from behind.
Up ahead, the kidnapper hit a patch of snow and yelped. Suri lashed out, and the two of them went skidding across the black ice encrusting the path. Then they both tumbled down the next slope.
Applejack summoned the ghost of every rodeo she’d competed in and leaped clean across the patch. Soil scattered under her hooves. Far below, the slope ended with a grey block. The Statue of Smart Cookie, she remembered. It looked as dull and stiff as it had done all those years ago…
“Look out!” yelled Suri. “She’s got –”
Not only did Applejack jink around the plinth, but she ducked the leg that kicked out from behind it. Applejack tried to twist in mid-stride, and the kidnapper raised the pendant around her neck and fired a bolt of white at her face.
“– a disabling spell!”
Useless on non-unicorns, she realized, but bright enough to buy a few seconds. In the time it took to shake the afterglow out of her eyes, Applejack barely spotted the crystal pony slinging Suri over her shoulder before the kidnapper vanished into the grey. At once, she threw herself back into the chase.
Up ahead, the squatting wall that was the Cosmopolitan Crafts Centre loomed out of the fog, dwarfing the snow-blanketed pines. As she leaped over another path – East Drive; her memory blurted out the words on sight – a star shot up from the canopy to her right. The guards had sent a flare. Reinforcements were on the way, but already she was panting against the dry winter’s air, and the crystal pony was barely visible and not getting any closer.
The wall of the centre faded into the world as a shiny block. She could even see the scratch marks and hoofprints.
As she watched, the crystal pony braced its legs, sprang for the vast, dark window that could not possibly crack even with two bodies slamming into it, and landed on the glass hooves-first. It began walking upwards.
Applejack skidded to a halt. But how? It’s like the wall just became a floor to her.
Then, she noticed the rounded, crystalline hoof-bells on the pony’s feet. They twinkled with white light. Suri screamed again and started shouting curses.
“Aw, hayseed,” Applejack groaned.
“She’s not at her stall,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah tol’ you she ain’t anywhere.”
Rarity hummed and munched a levitating apple. The twinge of guilt, however, did get her to drop a few bits in the collecting box. If she was going to make up for missing breakfast, she might as well do it for a good cause.
“Maybe she went to have a look at the Ancient Crystal Idol?” said Sweetie Belle. “I heard it’s got secret powers, but no one’s figured out how to get it to work yet. And it’s very pretty.”
“It is!” said Apple Bloom cheerfully. “Ah’ve seen the badges everyone’s wearin’. We could go have a gander once we find AJ, if you like.”
Another unladylike crunch of the apple followed, and Rarity looked for a napkin to wipe her lips. “‘s not ‘rrived yed,” she mumbled around the mouthful. “Godda waid doo ‘ours.”
“Huh?” said Sweetie Belle.
Rarity swallowed. “It has not arrived yet and you’ve got to wait two hours. I was enunciating clearly. In any case, I can’t imagine Applejack sneaking off for a quick peek of that thing.” She snorted. “Now, if it was made of apples, on the other hand…”
Guards shouted across the Great Lawn. Some rushed across to the eastern side, ploughing through drifts of snow or churning up the exposed grass. Unicorns lit their horns, and pegasi flapped and took to the air. The shield flared so much that it seemed to be always there, just pulsing and ebbing like a living, breathing organism.
“What is going on over there?” Even as she spoke, however, doubts plunged into her chest and sank to her hooves with a thud.
Ponies screamed. Over their heads, two patches of the suddenly visible shield ripped apart, tendrils of torn magic evaporating away. Two guards turned and fired beams of purple up at the breaches, which filled like bowls and vanished.
“An attack!? Do you think it’s Applejack?” Apple Bloom gaped, but her eyes were wider and straining.
“Girls! Go back to the caravan and stay hidden!” Rarity ducked below the stall’s counter. I knew she wouldn’t have brought it along. Now, where did I keep it stashed – aha!
“Rarity?” Sweetie Belle took a step backwards, ears flattened under the weight of alarm.
“It can’t be Applejack!” shouted Apple Bloom from some private, tortured world of her own. “Not her too!”
“Of course not!” Rarity shouted. “I’m going to make sure it’s not! Now do what I say!”
She galloped after the last of the guards, shocking the few she managed to overtake. Tree trunks shot past on either side. The satchel bounced off her padded front against each stride. Where the icy ground threw guards off balance, she turned it into a straight skate that propelled her into a leap and an even faster run on the other side.
The nerve of those ponies! On the one fundraiser where my stars were going to lift everyone’s spirits! The one fundraiser where my dresses would help the poor families of all those victims! The one fundraiser where my speech was going to sock it right to those cowardly ruffians! ON MY GOSHDARNED FUNDRAISER!
Cooler voices in her head checked her overenthusiastic use of the “my”, but they melted under the roaring furnace that consumed the rest of her. Up ahead, the guards thinned out, the wall of the Cosmopolitan Crafts Centre faded into her immediate future, and she dug her hooves so hard into the dirt that they left skid marks.
Overhead, the kidnapper walked up the dark glass one steady hoof at a time. Lights twinkled where it stepped. Whatever the benefits of the gravity spell, it either wasn’t foolproof or wasn’t inspiring much confidence. Ever step was laboured and plodding.
“Rarity!”
She turned, and her knees almost sagged with sweet relief. Applejack was panting hard and stank of sweat and had at some point lost her Stetson, but Rarity was so giddy she almost kissed her on each cheek.
The earth mare pointed up. “She’s got Suri.”
Rarity leaned back, shocked to find she was even leaning forwards to begin with. “Pardon?”
“It’s the kidnapper. She’s got Suri. If they get over the other side, they’ll slip across Fifth Avenue, and then they’ll just disappear. We’re about to lose ‘em.”
Right on cue, Suri yelled another string of curses and thumped her kidnapper on the back. They were only feet away from the roof. Dimly visible through the glass, ponies inside the centre pointed up and chattered.
Rarity smirked and let the satchel drop. Rope and coloured horseshoes spilled onto the grass.
“What the hay?” Applejack picked up a length and tried to blink the illusion away. “What’s this? You knew exactly that we’d need this rope?”
“No, of course not. I simply brought your rodeo gear along, just in case I could persuade you to get onto that stage.” A smug smile wormed through her voice. “Any lady worth her salt must be prepared for anything.”
“Ha! Rarity, you’re a star.”
Soon, the lasso whirled and spun around Applejack’s head. Her eyes narrowed, watching the yelling face of Suri. Barely had the kidnapper reached the edge of the roof when there was a flash of cords and its hoof snagged on the tightening rope. Around the two mares, the few unicorn guards winced in sympathy at the thud as the pony fell forwards. Only its leg stuck out.
Such poetry in motion, Rarity thought. Each word dripped with a slight hint of green like poison. There’s an artist in her somewhere, if only she’d let me coax it out of her. This talent’s wasted on rodeo.
“Excellent throw, lass,” said the nearest guard. To his fellows, he shouted, “Get up on that roof! Take the stairs. Anything. We can’t let this one slip away.”
Applejack tried to speak, a pointless effort with her mouth full of rope.
“You’re welcome?” Rarity hazarded. This earned her a roll of the eyes.
In the skies, a ring of pegasus Royal Guards closed in on the lassoed hoof still sticking out. She hummed thoughtfully to herself while she watched.
“Applejack?” she said. “I’ve been considering the situation.”
She was sure Applejack had just said “Uh oh”, but pretended it was too hard to decipher anyway.
“There is no way all these kidnappings were the work of one crystal pony, even with fancy gadgets and gizmos. I happen to know for a fact that Joy Denim always used a three-pony locking mechanism and a triple-pony security hex on all her doors and windows.”
“Uh huh?” mouthed Applejack around the lasso. She winced at a tug and yanked her head down; the flailing limb shot back down with a smack.
“So once this one pony is brought in, the Royal Guard will want to ask her who her accomplices were. Now, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve solved a few mysteries in my time, and –”
A muffled but insistent syllable ploughed through the oral obstruction. Rarity actually shrank back.
“Just hear me out! They might go after one of us next. Maybe even Sweetie Belle, or Apple Bloom!” Spotting the spasm of fear around Applejack’s eyes, she pressed her advantage. “If we could find out who’s behind this before they strike again, we might even be able to help those poor ponies who are already missing. With my detective skills and your… uh… strength…”
Applejack snorted.
After a long pause, Rarity shrugged and slung her satchel over her head. “Will you at least think about it?”
They looked up in time to see the blaze of light.
Lines of glowing flames whipped across the sky. Every pegasus Royal Guard in the dogpile tumbled away from the radiating purple and disappeared over the canopy. Unseen blasts of magic punched into their ears, and bodies thumped on the ground far away.
Applejack yelled behind her suddenly rising rope. Rarity leaped and grabbed her disappearing tail. Straw-like hairs clumped on her tongue. She bit down harder as the ground yanked itself away from her legs. Despite the mass in her mouth, her scream broke through cleanly.
Then the glass sped past, and they rolled along the flat stone roof. By the time they stopped, both of them winced and strained against the bruising erupting along their flanks.
Rarity raised her head, and saw across the rooftops of the centre to a distant hedgerow and flowerbeds. Café tables and chairs lay scattered where the patrons had taken no chances with all the excitement going on. Tiny purple flames flickered at random across the mess. Beyond that, the rows and columns of skyscrapers stood to attention, a shiny guard of honour keeping eternal watch over the park.
A crystal pony stomped into view. Rarity peered up at the narrow, mocking glare. She growled and fired up her horn.
At once, the pendant around the kidnapper’s neck whitened. Something lashed across her forehead; next moment, pain stabbed into her brain, throwing the world around her in shattered pieces. Her mind fought to keep everything together.
When it settled, she braced herself for another burst of magic, and felt… nothing. She tried again. Not so much as a spark of life in her horn. Even her numb legs didn’t feel this bad.
“What…” she breathed. “What did you just do?”
Two more crystal ponies stepped into view. They said something, but it was too windy up here and she couldn’t make out anything beyond “whurp-whurp-whurpwhurp-whurp, whurp.”
One raised a foreleg and breathed on its hoof. Green gases spewed forth. She could see nothing but emerald sparkles. Sleep ran through her mind, shutting everything down in its wake.
Rarity yawned, and got no further than whispering “Apple –”
She didn’t even remember her chin hitting the stone.