//------------------------------// // Chapter 13: Betrayal // Story: Daring Do and the Lost Tome of Shadows // by whiterook6 //------------------------------// Daring sat quietly in the center of the cage and watched Rose fiddle with the locked hatch at the front. The contents of their saddlebags were spread out around her, and though Rose was even more stubborn than Daring, Daring didn’t think there’d be anything that she could use as a lockpick. She was about to tell Rose as much when Rose jumped back and yelled, “Ha!” Daring scrambled over. “You got it?” she asked in wonder. Rose shook her head and rubbed her hoof. Purple sparks danced over the lock. Daring slumped. “Oh.” Rose looked betrayed. She looked angry. She looked like she was about to drop character. She opened her mouth— “Daring Do!” Midnight yelled from the other side of the room. “Rose Gambit!” Midnight Oil approached the front of the chamber. She had something suspended in front of her, and her magic’s purple glow illuminated a weary but fierce face. Next was Cairo, looking as smug as ever but not saying a word over his mistress. A group of minions, Earth Ponies and Pegasi both, followed behind, bathed in the firelight. Their eyes were all glowing purple, Daring realized, and she wondered if Midnight had enchanted them—though several were giving her dirty looks. Daring and Rose backed up against the rear of their cage. “Daring? What do we do?” Rose asked. “We gotta find a way out of this cage, somehow,” Daring said, watching the other ponies. Half of the minions split off to one side, circling the cage while they kept to the edge, and the others left Midnight and Cairo behind and continued around to meet up at the rear. Soon their cage was completely surrounded by Midnight’s minions. “Don’t worry,” Daring continued. “There’s always a way out. I mean, we’re not gonna just walk out of this cage, but, yeah. That’s how these things work.” “Is getting betrayed by the Princess in peril also part of how things work?” Daring tilted her head. “Actually, sometimes.” Midnight left Cairo and walked to the cage, staying well out of reach of Daring and Rose. Her face was lit by highlights from her glowing horn and the ball of magic held above her. Daring squinted, trying to see past the turbulent shimmer. Her notebook! “Hey! That’s mine!” Daring yelled, throwing herself at the cage and reaching through. “Give it back!” “It belonged to her mother!” Rose said. “You have no idea how valuable that is to her!” Midnight scoffed. “Oh, I have some idea.” She held the book in front of her and began flicking through the pages. “There are a number of entries from one Archie Bold, presumably your grandfather, and Susan Strong—your mother, of course, occasionally penned with the help of your father.” She paused to peer at some difficult section. “And so on, and so on, up the line, with perhaps a dozen authors contributing to a wonderful store of knowledge. An extremely valuable heritage, and all of it leads to you, Daring Do.” She slapped the book shut. “Tell me, do you know who the original owner of this book was? Where it came from? Certainly you’ve been able to determine how old it is.” Daring scowled. “No?” Midnight asked, then shrugged. “Then perhaps you know the original purpose of this book? Buried deep in the margins, overwritten by countless other explorers, adventurers, and treasure seekers?” “Let me guess,” Daring sneered, leaning close enough to feel the tickle from Midnight’s suspension. “It tells you how to use the Tome of Shadows. That’s it, isn’t it? The real reason you had Cairo steal the notebook for you, why you couldn’t just go and get the Tome yourself—you clearly knew the location of the temple. It doesn’t show you how to find the Tome at all.” Midnight grinned. Daring’s breath caught. “You already have the Tome, don’t you? You’ve had it all along.” It all made sense! “And you need me to translate something. To show you how to use it, because I’m the only pony who knows how to interpret some cypher hidden in my notebook.” Daring sat back, looked away, and crossed her forelegs. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not helping you.” Rose sat beside her. “What she said.” A small smile threatened to break Daring’s poker face: she got to be brave in the face of her enemies and in front of Rose. They wouldn’t give in without a fight! The chamber was quiet. Only Daring’s pounding heartbeat, the crackling of several fires, and the hum of Midnight’s suspension broke the silence. Daring waited, then slowly turned to look at the Unicorn. Midnight was smiling. Her grin was a little off-centered, her mouth open just a little, her eyes wide by just a little too much. Her breathing came in bursts—Oh, Celestia. Tell me she’s not—she was laughing, a laugh that grew louder and harder until she was howling. Midnight’s laughter was just familiar enough to sound creepy. Despite her resolve Daring found herself leaning back, her ears flat against her head and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. None of the minions joined in. Midnight’s laughter grew hoarse and she started coughing, hanging her head and holding a hoof to her chest. Cairo looked like he wanted to help her, but he kept still. Midnight’s suspension flickered and she nearly dropped Daring’s notebook. Midnight got her breathing under control and lifted her head to look at Daring. Her smile was gone, replaced by a pained grimace. Her eyes blazed with anger. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but powerful. “You arrogant fool.” Her horn exploded with light. Daring had to shield her eyes with her foreleg for a moment. A low rumble filled the room, accompanied by a high whine that Daring felt more than she heard. “You insufferable little know-it-all,” Midnight sneered, shaking the notebook. “You have no idea what’s in this book. You are oblivious to its origins. You have relied on the knowledge and skills of others to claim your success, but have contributed only boasts and self gratification in return. You don’t deserve your birthright.” The minions began chanting. “Your ancestors would be ashamed.” Daring stared at her, defiant. Midnight had no idea what she was talking about. Daring had upheld the family legacy over and over again, rediscovering lost cities of stone and forgotten treasures of gold. Rose stood beside Daring and put a hoof over her shoulder. Daring had rescued her colleagues from digs gone wrong and saved foals from villains gone mad. She’d toiled tirelessly  in libraries and museums. Why, Daring’s successes were known across the world! “Hey,” Rose muttered. “Buck up. You know she’s just tryin’ to get you all riled up.” Of course she was! Midnight didn’t know anything about Daring Do. She certainly hadn’t read Daring’s notebook very hard if she didn’t see the tediously written and rewritten notes, the hastily scribbled drawings, and the earmarked pages. How could she possibly know anything about Daring? How could she possibly know anything about her parents? Daring looked away, furiously wiping at her eyes. “You’re wrong,” she muttered, her breath catching. Rose rubbed her shoulder, but Daring shoved her away and glared at Midnight. “They would be proud!” Midnight snorted, then limped to the front of the chamber, joining in the chanting with her minions. The wind in the chamber picked up, and streams of light arced off of Midnight’s horn, splashing against the walls. Daring and Rose crowded together as far from the spell as possible. The tingling on Daring’s coat was constant, and there was a heaviness in the room. A dead weight settled in her gut. Midnight was about to seriously ruin their day. --- Standing at the front of the chamber, Midnight chanted in harmony with her minions. The volume in the room rose to nearly painful levels, but each syllable felt sublime as it layered atop the others, weaving together simple and complicated spells in satisfying ways. They reached a climax as Midnight roared, then the chanting ceased. Her voice echoed through the chamber, resonating deep within the stone. At the far side, a spire toppled, spreading flaming books over the ground. The room was thick with the smell of ash and crackling magic, and all that magic needed somewhere to go. With a flourish Midnight lifted the notebook in front of her, flicked through the pages until she found an appropriate passage, and read aloud: Midsummer, of the Year 946 of the Solar Monarchy: We broke camp this morning for what I pray was the last time. In the distance, savage animals wail in hunger. This desolate wasteland is as barren as it is cold, yet still we are hounded. They are after the Amulet, desperate to keep its warmth and light throughout the approaching winter. Recent misfortunes notwithstanding, Foresight assures us we are heading in the right direction. The crew is beginning to question his special abilities, but it is all too clear that we have no better options. Instead, they crowd near the Amulet in its trunk, desperate like the animals that— “Why are you reading that junk?” Daring yelled, breaking her concentration. “There’s no secret code in there!” She blinked. “Is there?” Midnight sneered at her, and returned to the book, flicking through to another section. There were so many varied stories. She could practically taste the experiences penned into the pages: Day 51 Were nearly at the bottom of this cursed tower, and the rest of the company can feel it. No way we could of guessed just how deep it goes, and we should of brought more food. They keep talking about gold and treasure and how there all gonna retire somewhere tropical, sipping on their maretinis and ogling beach beauties. Some are going to try and sneak off with more than there fair share. Ha! It won’t work. I just hope we make it to the bottom before its too late. And below that, another entry, then a diagram of some ancient transmutation circle, followed by a torn page and riddles and notes and epitaphs and—Oh, Princess. Midnight shuddered, inhaling pure knowledge. After a moment she opened her eyes and focused on Daring, keeping the notebook close. “You’re quite right, Daring Do. There’s no secret code in your notebook. Similarly there is no single spell to summon the Tome, as complex of a life form as it is. The Tome is . . . temperamental. Subtle. Indescribable with only a few spells. It must be fed.” Daring looked torn between the need to understand and the need to get her hooves on her notebook. “The priests needed a vessel to contain the sacrificial energies, and to transform it into a controllable power source. An almanac served as the first Tome of Shadows, powered by the sacrifice of a young farmer. It was always an Earth Pony, of course, because they didn’t want a fresh, angry Shadow Pegasus escaping. Their warriors could contain a Shadow Pony long enough to satisfy the Tome.” “A fresh angry . . . Oh, Celestia,” Daring moaned. “They didn’t just sacrifice the farmer. They turned him into a Shadow Pony. The first Shadow Pony.” Midnight nodded, feeling her lips twist into a grin. “Very good. Shadow Ponies are similar enough to the native shadows to use the magic of one against the other. The Tome absorbed the Shadow Magic of this first sacrifice, leaving it an empty shell, and with that Tome the priests cast their spells, compelling the shadows to leave. Presumably over time that shell could have fed enough to regain its Shadow Pony form, though more than likely it was destroyed by a snapstone during some later battle.” Rose snarled. “Clearly you’ve never come across an angry Earth Pony, if ya think we’re easier to contain.” She stamped at the ground, pure loathing in her eyes. “Easier to catch,” Midnight conceded. “But their numbers grew faster than the priests expected, and soon Shadow Ponies threatened their city walls as much as other shadows. The Tome was no longer powerful enough, and one year, again in desperation, they turned to a Pegasus for salvation, hoping its magic would be more powerful. Naturally, it escaped to terrorize the city and its inhabitants. None of their warriors had practiced against threats from above. The Summer Solstice that year was terrible indeed.” “How did they survive?” Daring asked, her greed for knowledge winning over her anger. “Did they?” “For a time, they compensated by adding more knowledge to the Tome, choosing quantity over quality. But a regular supply of fresh Shadow Magic keeps the Tome alive; otherwise it withers and dies.” “So the Tome died, along with the city,” Daring said. “Now it’s just a wrinkled, overused book, and you know how to bring it back to life?” Midnight nodded. “So why do you need us? Why do you need my notebook?” Midnight groaned, exasperated, and explained, “This is no mere notebook. The body of knowledge stored within is unprecedented, even for an adventurer’s notebook; so much so that to read it is to drown. Most of it has been erased and overwritten, traced and scribbled, but it still exists, in the wear and indentations throughout. The what and the when of the knowledge doesn’t matter; what matters is the presence, the quality of that knowledge.” She flew the notebook up to the cage, just out of Daring’s outstretched forehoof, and taunted, “You tell me. What do I need this wrinkled, overused book for?” Daring’s forehoof sagged. “No . . . no. No! You can’t do that! It’s all—” She choked, sputtered out, “it’s all I have left of her!” She shook the bars of her cage and yelled, “You’ll kill her!” Midnight laughed and let Daring struggle until she was exhausted and panting. “It has been centuries since the last expulsion and the Shadow Ponies have grown and evolved. To control them will take a Tome more powerful than any yet summoned in this realm. The leylines will provide raw power. The notebook will provide knowledge. I need only the Shadow Magic to taste. Cairo!” Cairo snapped to attention. “If you would, please. We need something more powerful than an Earth Pony,” Midnight said with a smile. Cairo nodded, and approached the cage. Midnight could practically feel the naked satisfaction oozing out of him, able once and for all to defeat the great Daring Do. Daring growled and stamped at the ground, wings flared wide. Rose pushed her hat tighter to her head and lowered her stance. Cairo’s horn illuminated as he grabbed the cage lock. Midnight shook her head. “Cairo! You misunderstand.” Cairo whipped around, staring at her, his magic faltering. She wrapped her magic around his limbs just as he tried to step back. His eyes went wide and his knees started shaking. She lifted him up and onto the altar, laid him on his side, and held him still. He grunted and strained, trying to break free of her magic. His horn flashed, shooting bolts at Midnight, but his aim was erratic and her barriers deflected them with ease. Books exploded in the background, sizzling and smoking. “The priests finally brought about their own downfall trying to sacrifice a Unicorn. You fought it earlier; you know how terrible it is. If you can keep anything of yourself through this next bit, please—don’t forget me. Maybe then this will work.” She leaned over him and kissed him gently. He grunted and tried to twist away, snorting and panting. Midnight bowed her head. “Loyal to the end.” Then she summoned a knife of pure light and stabbed it into his chest. --- Rose yelled in horror, as Cairo shrieked in pain. Light poured like blood around the blade, and for a second Cairo bloomed bright from nose to tail; then the natural shadows of the chamber, hidden behind pillars, books, and boulders, shook themselves loose and pounced. Rose clenched her eyes shut and looked away, covering her ears with her hooves, but she couldn’t block his howls of pain. They stretched on and on and grew long and distorted, low and choppy. Soon he had faded to a dull static that she heard more than felt. The blade clattered to the floor; then the chamber was silent. Rose tasted stone and ash. She’d fallen onto her gut. She lifted her head and carefully peeked at the altar, unsure what she’d see. The shadows were gone. All that remained of Cairo was a black lump on the altar, still and cold. Even Midnight looked wary. It didn’t work? Rose groaned, “Oh . . . Oh, no. Sweet Mother Faust. She killed him!” “No. Look,” Daring muttered, staring intently. Her eyes were wide, and she was breathing hard. “Look!” It was hard to make Cairo out: his edges were blurry and shifting. But there was life. His legs were shuffling, and his chest was rising and falling—slowly, and not much, but he was definitely moving. Midnight walked up to the altar and leaned her head down next to Cairo’s. Rose couldn’t hear what she whispered, but the effect was immediate. Cairo propped his head up and looked around, then slowly climbed to his hooves. His gazed settled on the cage. Rose gasped. His eyes had turned into glowing purple dots. Midnight backed up, stopping a couple meters away and suspending Daring’s notebook in front of her. The Shadow Unicorn’s ear perked up. It looked away from the cage and slowly turned to face Midnight. Midnight’s face was warm and comforting, like the face of a mother watching her foal take its first steps. The Shadow Unicorn looked at its blackened self, then back at Midnight. “That’s right. I’m here.” She smiled and opened the notebook towards him. Rose felt like she was going to be sick. The Shadow Unicorn seemed to recognise Midnight. Its gaze was piercing and unwavering as it considered the situation. Several seconds ticked by without a sound, and neither of them moved—then its horn illuminated, and without ceremony Midnight was lifted into the air, dangling from her head and quickly choking on whatever magic had wrapped around her neck. Her chest spasmed and worked to get in a breath of air. Her gurgling sounds were disgusting and desperate. She tilted her head as far forward as she could and shot the notebook with a bolt of magic. A thunderous wind broke out, scattering flaming books around the room and forcing Rose and Daring to duck low and brace themselves. The Shadow Unicorn’s howling quickly changed to a terrified whinny. Midnight was released and dropped to the ground. The notebook began absorbing the Shadow Unicorn, stretching and tightening the beast until it was a thin black flow of ink spilling into the pages and covering the book itself. Soon there was nothing left of the Shadow Unicorn except for a pathetic silhouette that slowly slid away from the altar. Once again the chamber grew silent, its peacefulness and the patience of Midnight’s minions at odds with the casual violence she had committed. Rose felt the ground lurch under her. “You actually did it . . . ” she mumbled. Midnight struggled to her hooves and held the Tome in front of her, fascinated with the drips of shadow splashing onto the ground. A smile stretched across her face. “I actually did it. It worked!” “You killed a pony to make a book!” Rose cried. Midnight turned to face the prisoners, floating the Tome up in front of them. It was unrecognizable: the worn, creased notebook now resembled a spellbook. The light from the fires barely illuminated its surface; a black mist sank down from its bindings, hissing faintly and pooling on the floor in front of the cage. “I didn’t kill a pony to make a book,” she sneered. “I studied for months. I slaved. I fought. And I sacrificed the pony I loved to resurrect the most powerful magic yet seen in this world.” “But why?” Daring moaned, reaching through the bar, the Tome just out of reach. “That’s not a tome of anything. It’s a notebook. It’s filled with notes. It’s got nothing to do with summoning shadows or controlling an army. It’s my notebook!” Midnight smiled. “It was your notebook. But in death, your ancestral knowledge will serve a purpose much greater than finding treasure and exploring ruins.” “Yeah? And what purpose would that be, exactly?” Rose asked. Laughing, Midnight lifted the Tome back to float in front of her. “Finally, because I’ve been dying to share my evil plans with you,” she sneered. “The Tome has complete authority over all Shadow Magic. Use your imagination.” Daring sat with a thud, letting her forehead rest against the bars. She stared at the ground, face scrunched up in disgust. Her lip was trembling, and she was blinking back tears. “Daring . . . ” Rose said, walking towards her and resting a hoof on Daring’s shoulder. Her friend was shaking. “They never found her. Just her notebook.” “Ah’m sorry.” Daring slowly lifted her head, and turned to face Rose. A hardness had filled her eyes. She said, “Whatever Midnight’s got planned . . . We can’t let her use the Tome of Shadows.” “Ah know,” Rose said. “But what are we gonna do? We have to get to the Tome before we can destroy it, and we don’t even know how to do that.” “I wasn’t talking about destroying the Tome,” Daring said quietly, holding eye contact. Rose gulped. “Ah know. But Ah’m not sure I could do it. Couldn’t we just knock her unconscious?” “And keep her unconscious?” Daring snorted. “You’ve actually killed dozens of minions before, in past adventures.” Rose stared at her, eyes wide. “Ah—Ah’ve what?” Daring shrugged. “It probably doesn’t matter. If Midnight was an Earth Pony, or a Pegasus—or if she actually was weak and pathetic . . . but she’s not.” Rose shook her head. “It’s not like ya to give up. Don’t tell me you’ve never been in this situation before. About to—well, about to be sacrificed?” Daring took a deep breath. “You mean when it’s not you about to do the killing? I suppose I usually count myself lucky you’re not around to gloat.” Rose smacked her on the shoulder. “Ah’m serious, Daring Do.” Daring grinned, but that quickly faded, replaced by a grimace of concentration. “The Tome of Shadows is her weakness. She can’t take over the world without it. If we’re gonna stop her, we need to destroy it.” She pursed her lips. “I just don’t know how.” “One problem at a time,” Rose said. “Get the Tome. Then we can worry about destroying it.” She looked to the front of the chamber, watching Midnight read from the Tome. The passage still sounded like another of Daring’s family’s adventures and journal entries. Did Daring still think she could fix it? “And if we can’t destroy it?” Daring asked suddenly. She was asking for permission. Rose imagined somepony stealing her Pa’s hat, and corrupting it and everything he stood for—but Midnight was still a living, breathing pony. And it hadn’t been her Pa’s hat. “If there’s no other choice, then Ah guess we kill Midnight.” The weight of the room shifted as she said it. Kill Midnight, she repeated to herself, trying to figure out how she felt about it. I guess we kill another pony. She knew she meant it. It didn’t matter if Midnight was a murderer or not. If she had the means and the opportunity, and if she needed to, Rose would tear Midnight’s mortal coil loose—to stop her; to save the world; to save Daring and herself. Right? And from the look on Daring’s face as they held eye contact, Rose knew Daring was wondering the same thing. I hope one of us is strong enough. Rose nodded again. Something moved around her hooves. She yelped and jerked back, nearly falling on her rump. A silhouette was sliding around the floor of the cage. It didn’t look like the other Shadow Ponies—this was formless and sluggish, like thick molasses, and wasn’t bothering to peel free from the floor. Cairo! The silhouette did another lap around her hooves, then travelled towards the front of the cage. A weak, flickering hoof and foreleg emerged from the pool of shadow and reached for the lock. It started rattling, quietly. None of the minions seemed to notice. “Daring!” Rose hissed, jerking her head in the direction of the lock. Daring’s eyes went wide. “Don’t look at him. Look at me!” Rose grabbed Daring and pulled her close. She whispered in Daring’s ear, “We’re only gonna get one shot.” She hoped it looked like they were consoling each other. “Go for the Tome?” “That’s all that matters,” Rose agreed. “She’s helpless without it.” Daring turned and touched their foreheads together. There were streaks across her cheeks, but eyes were blazing. She was shaking with adrenaline. So was Rose. “She wants our magic?” Daring asked. “She’s gonna have to fight for it.” Rose grinned. “Ready?” she asked. “Duh. But don’t look too ready. She’ll expect us to be scared.” Behind her, the cage door clicked, and Cairo’s puddle of shadow slunk out of sight. --- Midnight shut the book with a snap and turned to face the adventurers. Buried under a pile of books with enough space to look, Twilight was close enough to both the cage and the altar to see what was going on. Not that she needed to. Manipulating Midnight as directly as she was, she had access to Midnight’s point of view: sound, smell, and sight. There was a slight echo effect whenever somepony spoke, and occasionally she would mix up her left and her right, but overall the effect was seamless. Both she and Midnight were inhaling the same heated air laced with oily fumes. And if she closed her eyes, she could see out of Midnight’s. Twilight’s thoughts were Midnight’s words. “Daring Do!” she cried, then paused. Daring and Rose had both risked their own safety to save Midnight Oil; they’d braved dangers and horrors to retrieve Daring’s notebook; and they’d fought everything Twilight could throw at them, and then some, and had still come out on top. “You’ve been a worthy adversary, but an even greater ally. You kept me safe through the underground, and let nothing stand in the way of rescuing me. For that, you have my gratitude.” “I can’t eat gratitude,” Daring sneered. “How’s about instead you let us go, and give us the Tome?” “Ah reckon we’d be about even, then,” Rose agreed. Midnight set the throbbing Tome on the altar, checked that it wasn’t about to get up and move, then stumbled towards the cage. Unfortunately, Twilight was also sharing Midnight’s sense of pain, and Midnight’s injuries were Twilight’s discomforts. She stopped about halfway, leaving enough room ahead for two ponies to fight. “Relax. I’m about to release you. Then I promise I’ll introduce you both to the Tome of Shadows.” She pointed at one of the nameless pony minions standing near the cage, then at the cage door. The minion nodded and approached, stopping within reach of the door. Had the adventurers found a way out yet? This was the thrilling part—when Daring Do would break free of her shackles using some long forgotten item or feature of the room. Even though Daring and Rose had to succeed, Twilight still wanted so much to be the first villain to actually have a working trap that did what it was supposed to—she could be the first competent villain. Her heart pounded. Had she overlooked something? Would Daring effect a surprising escape? Had she made the Tome too hard to break? Even to her it felt heavy. Don’t get distracted. Daring Do villains should be sinister. “I am grateful, though, so I offer you a choice.” “Blow me!” Twilight and Midnight laughed. “The priests never did manage to safely stabilize the Tome of Shadows. In their haste, they failed to realize that an Earth Pony wasn’t enough—naturally, since Earth Magic is too far removed from Shadow Magic. A necessary component to the spell, but not enough.” She narrowed her eyes.  “So: You?” Midnight paused for effect. Daring needed to be unsettled. Twilight readied her illusions. The room dimmed, and behind her the Tome of Shadows pulsed and groaned. Midnight looked at Rose. Opened her mouth to speak. Said— --- Daring’s skin tickled. “Me, or . . . what? Me first?” Daring asked. “Hello?” Midnight paused, face screwed up in concentration. Daring peered closer. “What’s going on?” she asked. Midnight wasn’t moving. Her eyes weren’t blinking. Her chest looked still. She was completely frozen. Even her minions had stopped moving. “C’mon. Now’s our chance!” Rose hissed. Daring shoved at the cage door, half-expecting some resistance, but it snapped open with a clang that rang through the otherwise still chamber. She leapt out, keeping her eyes on the minions, but they hadn’t even noticed that she was out. “Grab the Tome, then let’s get out of here!” “Wait!” Rose called. “Something’s wrong.” “Duh! She’s in shock or something. It doesn’t matter!” “No, Daring! Look!” Rose pointed behind Midnight. She’d moved far enough to the side to see around Midnight. Above the altar, throbbing almost too low to hear and hissing a thick black smoke, hovered the Tome of Shadows. A faint black glow surrounded Midnight, dulling the fiery highlighted reflections dancing over her coat. Daring landed on the altar, behind the Tome. The air around it was cold and humid, even surrounded on all sides by crackling fires. She shrugged off her saddlebags and started nosing through them, looking for something she could wrap around the Tome without touching it. “She’s in pain!” Rose said. “We’ve gotta help her!” “What?!” Daring yelled. “After all—” Midnight’s scream pierced the air, loud and sudden enough that Daring winced, ears flat against her head. Even clamping her hooves over her ears didn’t help. The scream kept going. Midnight screamed and yelled and groaned, then clutched at her chest and slumped to the ground. “You still wanna leave her?” Rose asked, glaring at Daring. “Yeah! Kinda. No,” Daring conceded. She hopped down and stood next to Midnight. “Hey! Can you hear us?” she yelled, a little louder than necessary. Midnight gulped and looked up. Her eyes were unfocused, and she wasn’t quite looking at them. “Daring? Rose?” she asked, then groaned and curled in on herself. “Are you okay?” Daring asked warily, positive that magic was about to wrap around her and lift her onto the altar. “I—I don’t think so. Why am I on the floor?” She looked over her shoulder at a pile of books. Rose frowned. “Uh . . . you fell.” “No, no, I mean—” She clenched her jaw shut, breathing harshly through her nostrils. Her pale blue coat began to darken to a deep purple as the shadows seeped into it like a stain, spreading from her withers and hooves, down her barrel and up her legs. She writhed on the ground, finally settling on her side. Rose knelt beside her. “How do we stop it?” she asked. “Stop . . . stop what?” “The Tome of Shadows,” Rose said slowly, pointed to the swirling mass of black and purple clouds hovering over the Tome. “How do we stop whatever it’s doin’ to you?” Midnight’s face screwed up in discomfort, and she twisted around to look behind her. The stain had covered most of her body; in the orange-red firelight she looked nearly black, with just a hint of dark purple. Only the light from her horn had kept any hue at all, and it was sputtering and fading. Midnight groaned and reached up, trying to touch her neck, or maybe her back. Her shoulder muscles worked and rippled. There was a brief popping sound, like a pony stretching out her limbs. Midnight gasped and arched her back, grabbing at the floor, just as the stain was reaching her cutie mark. Then a pair of majestic wings erupted from her withers, showering the ground in brilliant purple feathers that seemed to glow on their own. --- Dash gasped. The ground pitched sideways under her hooves, and she thought she was falling. She recognized the pony lying in front of her. “No. Fucking. Way,” Dash whispered. “Twilight?” Applejack asked. Twilight shook her head. “No,” she said, in a voice that was instantly familiar. “Not Twilight. Midnight.” But there was no mistaking the star-and-sparkle cutie mark that was burning through Midnight’s late-night candle. “Uh . . . ” Applejack looked at Dash, then back at Twilight. “What do we do, Twilight?” Twilight panted, the blue of her disguise mostly gone. No response. “That’s it, I’m going for the Tome—” “No!” Applejack barked. “It’s doin’ somethin’ to Twilight. It might do the same to us!” “It might be killing Twilight!” “Midnight,” Twilight insisted. “It’s doin’ somethin’ to Midnight.” Twilight pushed herself into a seating position and looked left and right. “Where’s Midnight?” “Argh!” Dash yelled in frustration, and grabbed Twilight by the shoulders. “Twilight! Snap out of it! You’re not yourself! And if you don’t figure that out, it’s gonna kill you!” She pulled her hoof back, ready to smack some sense into her. Twilight’s eyes flickered. She looked at Dash, her eyes dancing over Dash’s rainbow-hued mane and tail. At Applejack and her golden mane and green eyes. And over her shoulder, at her wings—wings which were slowly staining black. She pulled free of Dash’s grip and struggled to her hooves, looking like she was about to be sick. “No. I need . . . what do I do?” Twilight clenched her jaw, gulping back nausea. Dash lowered her hoof. “Is that you, Twilight? Are you . . . uh, are you awake?” she asked nervously. “Because you’re not making a lot of sense and Applejack and I don’t really know what’s going on, and, uh—” Twilight grunted, and from her horn a ream of parchment exploded outward, covering the ground before her hooves and trailing off into the mess. Dash and Applejack jerked back. The end landed in a bonfire and quickly ignited. Dash tried to read the parchment before it burned but it was so densely covered in writing that she couldn’t make out more than a few words. “You’re no help at all!” Twilight yelled at the ink-stained checklist, before noticing it was on fire. “Ahh!” “Uh, Twilight?” Twilight whirled around, her horn glowing bright. A wall of purple light slammed into the ground between her and the two heroes and stretched up to the ceiling. It raced towards them, scraping books and rocks out of the way, and suddenly Rainbow Dash and Applejack were flung back into the air. “Whoa!” “Hey!” “Stay back!” Twilight yelled. They were thrown up and over the cage, slamming into the back wall with a pair of oofs. Dash tried to move but the barrier held her firm against the wall. It was hard to get a good breath, and she could barely turn her head. Beside her, Applejack hung upside down, pinned to the wall, hat beside her. Leaning back against some force Dash couldn’t see, Twilight faced the altar and spread her hooves. The shimmering black surface grew brighter, glowing orange, yellow, then white; then the air above it burst into flames, completely engulfing the Tome and its toxic black smoke. The fire roared, a column of heat that Dash could feel from the other side of the arena, sucking in air like a furnace and making the other fires look like candles. Twilight stood in front of it, her horn blazing and her face thrown into stark contrast. Books and stray pages swirled around her. Twilight was being pulled forward, slowly. The roar was deafening. “What’s she doing?” Applejack yelled, trying to look. “Fighting the Tome!” Dash explained. “But I don’t think it’s working!” Shafts of black magic stabbed out of the inferno, shooting right into Twilight. She jerked back, crying out, then clenched her jaw. Patches of purple magic appeared over her coat and wings in response, blocking the beams and trying to contain the spread of whatever the Tome was still doing to her. Abruptly the storm ceased and the fire blinked out. Dash worked her jaw, trying to pop her eardrums. A burnt husk hovered above the center of the altar. Crispy black flakes lifted off of the surface of the Tome, leaving the book wholly intact. “Her fire fizzled out . . . ” Dash narrated, in case Applejack couldn’t see. Twilight waved her hoof through the air. A flicking sound shot through the chamber. When Dash focused she could see a thin sheet of silver slicing through the Tome, back and forth so fast she couldn’t follow it. The nearby books unlucky enough to be caught exploded in confetti—Dash figured a block of stone would’ve exploded in confetti—but the Tome glued back together in an instant. After a moment, another blade flashed beside the first, and then another. It was a level of violence from Twilight that Dash had never seen, and suddenly she was very glad to be pinned to the far wall. After a few more moments the blades evaporated. “ . . . and knives don’t cut it . . . ” Twilight leapt into the air, her flight erratic and clumsy. Dash could feel her tapping into her Pegasus Magic. The air around the Tome shimmered and distorted, and the smoke and haze contracted, squeezing into a sphere. Sheets of colored light flicked up between Twilight and the pulsing, concentrated smoke: a whole rainbow of barriers, each angled like the stem of a boat, separating her from the Tome. Twilight turned her head and covered her ears just before a loud bang ripped through the air, sending books flying outwards, disintegrating nearby rock, and shocking Daring with its sudden volume. The blast shattered nearly all of Twilight’s barriers, stopping only at orange, and she was thrown back, crashing to the floor in the middle. A low rumble echoed over and over through the chamber. Amidst a blizzard of shredded paper and evaporating shards of light the Tome hovered, pristine and tauntingly whole. “ . . . and exploding the Tome was a bust,” Dash yelled over the ringing in her ears. Twilight struggled to her hooves, looking around frantically. Her gaze settled on the frozen minions. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything the flickering shadows behind them condensed together, as if invisible lights shone bright before them. The minions twisted and buckled, bursting into blazing embers and leaving Shadow Ponies projected behind them, on walls and bookcases. Dash gulped. “We are so fucked.” Twilight fell to her knees. Her chest was heaving and her forelegs were shaking. She hung her head in defeat. She looked so small. “Twilight!” Dash yelled. “Let us go!” “We can help you!” Applejack hollered. Twilight turned slowly. Her face was covered in soot and stained with tears, and her chin was trembling. Her horn was smoking. She briefly made eye contact before looking away in shame. When she spoke, her voice was meek and stuttering. Dash could barely hear her. “I—I can’t destroy it. The Tome. It’s fighting back. I can’t keep it out. If it gains control of my magic it could cause an Equestria-level Event. I have to—” She gulped, looking like she was fighting back the urge to scream. “I’m going to crater the region.” Her barriers blinked out, and Dash and Applejack tumbled to the floor. “I’m going to bury it. I can only hope a mountain can contain it. If you run . . . you might make it.” “No way!” Applejack yelled, jumping to her hooves and running towards Twilight. “We ain’t leavin’!” Twilight stood and faced them with shaky legs. “This isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t one of those ‘we stick together’ moments. You will die if you stay here, and it won’t be some valiant, heroic stand. Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this. I have to stop it now and I don’t think I can with you here.” “No deal,” Dash insisted, following Applejack. Twilight stood tall and spread her wings wide. Purple flames of magic burst from the ground around her hooves; soon she was bathed in magic. Torn shreds of paper blew around her. “As your Princess,” she bellowed, “I order you to save yourselves!” “Pffft,” Dash scoffed. “Puh-lease, Twilight. We all know you’re not a real princess.” Twilight blinked, mouth opened to say something. Her fireworks fizzled. Applejack stared in horror. “Rainbow Dash—you—” Twilight laughed, hiccuping in the middle. “Go spin on a horn, Dash. You always were the worst. Ohhhh . . . ” she trailed off, groaning. Her horn flickered again, and Dash could smell burnt mane. She looked away and shuddered. “I’m so, so sorry.” Dash reached out and touched her shoulder, joined quickly by Applejack. Twilight smiled. Applejack smiled back. “Do it,” Applejack said. “Before you lose your nerve.” Twilight gasped and jerked back, staring at her. “But you’ll be here.” “We’ll be here with you,” Applejack corrected gently, with a smile that only wavered as she reached around to hug Twilight. “We’ll deal with whatever happens.” Applejack and Dash made eye-contact, and Dash wondered if she looked as terrified as Applejack did. Twilight nodded. Her horn glowed, then began to darken to a deep purple. Flashes of green and red erupted from the tip of her horn, bubbling and mixing with the purple of her Unicorn Magic. Applejack and Dash backed up a step. With a pained cry, Twilight shot a bolt at the ceiling. Dash couldn’t quite see where it hit, but she sure felt it. The ground buckled and the ceiling started screeching, a horrible grating wail of rock grinding against rock that dug at Dash’s brain, even after she clamped her hooves over her ears— Twilight gasped and the screeching stopped. The stains on her coat splashed free, flicking over her like a soapy film on oil. A deep purple glow lit the ground around her. Dash jerked back just as beams of black shot out from the Tome, slamming into Twilight all over her body: into her wings, into her limbs, into her mane and face and horn. She struggled and tried to wrench free as the Tome lifted her into the air, before collapsing and hanging limp from the Tome like a marionette. Her head lolled back, her jaw open like she was trying to devour the sun. Dash found herself holding Applejack’s hoof as the two watched nervously. “Did—did it work?” Applejack asked. “I hope so,” Dash muttered, as motion caught her eye. Around the chamber, the newly formed Shadow Ponies began to move, filling the chamber with growls of static.