//------------------------------// // The War Room & What Lay Beneath—Part II // Story: The Silver Standard // by PatchworkPoltergeist //------------------------------// The air flipped inside out, Silver Spoon’s stomach turned upside down, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself stumbling over the Rich household carpet. Her ears rang and she smelled smoke and she wanted to throw up for more than one reason. The room swung and wobbled. Golden caught Silver’s right side before her hooves gave out. “Teleporting’s some ride, huh?” She laughed a thin, watery laugh nopony believed in. “Everypony’s okay, right? Diamond, you good?” Diamond realigned her tiara and nodded. Her legs wobbled under her. “Good.” Goldie dusted off her suit jacket, cleared her throat, and stood up. “Then let’s—” The surroundings hit her all at once. Quietly, she took in the high arch of the ceiling, the gaping maw of the window, and the glittering reflections from the pool outside; Diamond Tiara’s saddlebag, hairbrushes, and half-finished homework on the couch; back issues of The Stall Street Journal, Hoof Beats, and Weekly Wedding Prance Primer on the coffee table; and the line of new photographs leading up the staircase. She cleared her throat again. “Let’s find this panic room of yours.” Diamond Tiara curled her tail around Silver Spoon’s and led the way. “We put it under the War Room. C’mon.” The house had gone dark. Silver guessed that made sense, since nopony needed lights in the middle of a sunny day, but the light streaming through the window had taken on an ominous orange tinge. The color reminded her of old amber and sickly sunsets, and she wished somepony would turn a light on or play some music or something. Where was everypony? Shouldn’t Randolph have greeted them already? Silver wrapped her tail tighter around Diamond’s, staring at the shadows of the chandelier slithering up the stairwell. She’d never quite noticed how big and empty this house felt. “It’s really quiet in here.” Diamond shrugged. “Maybe everypony’s down there already?” “Maybe.” Silver frowned at the silhouetted shadow pouring over the carpet a few feet ahead of them. Or not. Spoiled Rich sat in the bay window with her back to them, cuddled in a spa robe. She cradled half a glass of brandy with both hooves and stared at the road leading up to the house. Her ears pricked at their approach. “Fil?” Spoiled turned and sighed with relief. “Oh, Diamond Tiara. I didn’t hear you come in. And with Silver Spoon, too.” She glanced back toward the window, and barely seemed to register Silver at all. “You ought to be at home, dear. It’s dangerous outside.” “Yes, ma’am,” said Silver Spoon. “We know.” “We teleported here.” Diamond patted Silver’s withers. “Nopony’s home at Silver’s house right now, so I brought everypony here.” She stepped toward the window and peeked out at Ponyville. “Dad’s not home yet?” “I sent Randolph to get him. He’ll be back home… in…” Mrs. Rich finally looked beyond Diamond Tiara and across the hall, where Goldie leaned in the doorway of the War Room, examining the trophies with convincing nonchalance. “…in no time.” Diamond Tiara edged to the farther end of the window. The corners of Mrs. Rich’s mouth drew taut. Her words sagged like wet cardboard. “What are you doing in my house, Glitter?” She slung back the rest of the brandy in one gulp. Goldie put down the dance trophy she’d been turning in her hooves. She tilted her left ear a centimeter; the barest minimum of her attention. A chuckle ruffled behind her half-smile. “The Trottingham Shuffle, what’s it look like?” She set the trophy down and turned, priming another quip. “As a matter of fact I—pffffft!” The cool chuckle exploded into laughter. “What happened to your face?!” A feverish shade of scarlet ran from Spoiled Rich’s ears to the tip of her nose. She drew her lips and pulled the robe tight around her shoulders. Turning away, she looked back to Diamond Tiara. Diamond watched the road. She hadn’t even flicked an ear. Silver stood beside her and laid her chin upon the bay windowsill. When she couldn’t stand the silence of Mrs. Rich’s eyes upon her, Silver glanced back. “…Ma’am?” “Silver Spoon, why is nopony at your house?” she softly asked. One hoof absently toyed with the golden chain around her neck. “Surely your parents didn’t leave you all alone?” “No, ma’am.” Silver didn’t know if Mrs. Rich heard her, or had even really been addressing her in the first place. She also really didn’t want to discuss this subject now—least of all with Mrs. Rich—but when an adult asked a question, that question had to be answered. “They… left Brass Tacks to look after me. He’s our butler. Mother and Father have business in Canterlot this week.” The clock chimed four. Father should have been boarding the train right now. “I see.” Mrs. Rich peered at Silver Spoon with an expression that could have indicated anything from genuine sympathy to a minor gas pain. “I’m sure they’re fine. Old and paranoid as they are, the Silvers likely own a bunker twice our size somewhere. They wouldn’t leave their heirs unguarded.” Her gaze shifted to the road. “Ponies know better than to run off and leave their foals all by themselves. Wouldn’t be responsible.” The smile faded from Golden Glitter’s face. She stepped closer. “You got something you’d like to say to me, Spoiled?” “Did I address you, Glitter? I know this may be hard for you to comprehend, but not everything has to do with you.” The robe twisted in Mrs. Rich’s grip. She twitched her ears and edged closer to the window. It rattled. “I have better things to worry about.” A shadow swept the lush expanse of the Rich front lawn. Too big for a pony, griffon, or most creatures from the Everfree. Silver wondered if it might be a dragon, but outside migration season, Ponyville didn’t get that sort of air traffic. Maybe it’s some kind of wild storm cloud. The windowpane rattled again. Nothing but clouds made shadows that big. Silver crouched low. It has to be a cloud. The shadow crept closer. The windows trembled in a slow rhythmic pulse. Spoiled Rich stared at the swinging light fixtures above their heads. “Diamond Tiara, take everyone and go down. You remember how.” “But Dad’s not here yet!” Diamond pushed her back against the rattling glass, cornered in the crook of the bay window. “I wanna wait ‘till—” “We all want a lot of things. Wait downstairs.” Mrs. Rich narrowed her eyes as Diamond opened her mouth. “Do. Not. Argue with me.” “Yes, ma’am. Come on, Silver.” Diamond tapped Silver’s leg, and led the way into the dim War Room, where Golden Glitter waited for them. “It’s under here?” Goldie blinked up at the winner sashes stretched across the skylight. Light leaked between the silk and satin in weak, sallow stripes. The walls of awards, prizes, and trophies dappled wavering spots of light across their coats. “Yeah. Under the table.” With one last look at the bay window, Diamond braced her shoulder against the metal table and shoved. It didn’t budge. “I got it, princess.” Golden Glitter popped her neck, shook out her muscles and shoved. The table groaned and squeaked in protest as it slid across the floor. Diamond Tiara followed close behind, rolling up the carpet to reveal an odd decoration in the center of the floor. The off-color circle of petrified wood blended almost perfectly with the hardwood floor around it. Faint green magic glowed around the edges, only visible because the lights were already dimmed. It felt warm underhoof. Diamond pulled off her right shoe and gave it to her mother, who hovered behind to watch. “Hold this for a sec.” She pressed her bare hoof in the center of the circle, knelt, and whispered something. Her eyes flashed sea-green for a second. She stepped back, watching the door glow brighter. “Sheesh, this thing takes forever.” The trap door fell open with a ch-chunk. Silver Spoon gingerly stepped down the carpeted stairs into the bright room beneath their hooves. She eyed the labyrinth of iron teeth and bars and locks and runes beneath the door. It was thicker than her haunch. “Kind of reminds me of the bank vaults Wondermint’s mom has.” “Same design, I bet.” Goldie nudged her daughter to the bottom of the stairs. Diamond took her sweet time getting there. She sat upon the last stair, swiveling her pricked ears. Just outside the War Room, voices rumbled in low, urgent murmurs and hissed harsh whispers. Silver heard hoofbeats above their heads. After a moment, Randolph’s wrinkled face appeared above their heads. The whisperings grew louder until they were no longer whisperings. Somepony spoke; clipped and stark, like flint hitting stone. “When?” There could be no mistake; Mr. Filthy Rich’s voice clearly said it. Yet, this calloused growl sounded nothing like Filthy Rich at all. “A few minutes ago. Teleported, apparently,” Spoiled Rich said. “I told the maids to lock the liquor cabinet.” “Good.” Silver Spoon felt Diamond’s tail wrap around hers again. Tight. Silver didn’t blame her. “Come on, Di. Let’s go get settled.” Diamond nodded. “Okay.” Large enough to house at least three families, the Rich panic room looked more like a strange meeting between a basement lounge and a furniture store’s showroom. Two rows of curtained beds filed along the back wall, separated by a large nightstand and a traveling trunk. Ceiling-high cabinets with supplies to last weeks—if not months—ran along the walls. Silver glanced back at the mini-kitchen in the corner and wondered if any of those cabinets housed some decent tea. “Has anypony come down here before?” Silver’s nose twitched at the scent of fresh varnish as she wove her way around a bookcase that still had its price tag. Diamond shrugged, glancing up at the ornate, too-bright lanterns that cast few shadows and gave no heat. The springy carpet fluffed underhoof. It still held the smell of the store it had come from. “I did, before we moved the table over the entrance.” She pointed at the Power Ponies pinball machine beside the billiards table. “I liked to come down and play sometimes, because then nopony could complain about the noise.” They found Golden Glitter perched upon the sofa in the center of the room, investigating her reflection in her pocket mirror. She smiled up at them as if they’d just come back from a dip at the beach. “Nice setup you’ve got down here.” “Yeah.” Diamond Tiara plopped into a lounge chair worth more than some ponies’ living room set. “It’s pretty nice, I guess. I like our living room more, doesn’t smell as weird.” “Only the best for you, right? I bet all of Equestria could burn down and you’d never know it, too busy baking cupcakes and playing Battleclouds.” Goldie laughed. “Even better, you could actually play a full game of Oligarchy, because everypony’d be stuck down here with you and couldn’t leave the game.” She leaned on the arm of the sofa with a small sigh to herself. “...You do still like Oligarchy, don’t you Diamond?” “Uh-huh.” Diamond nodded towards a stack of board games underneath the billiards table. “But nopony wants to play with me anymore, ‘cause I win all the time.” She shot Silver Spoon a playful glare. Silver flicked her tail with a smirk. “Or because you want to play for five hours. You don’t win all the time, you just wait everypony out.” “Same thing,” said Goldie. “Sometimes, the pony who wins is the pony that lasts the longest, because she wants it most. It’s not enough to be good or lucky or rich. Ponies—especially earth ponies—need to put in the work, otherwise they’ll never get anywhere worthwhile.” Golden Glitter leaned back, dangling a foreleg over the arm of the sofa. The Applewood smile didn’t falter an inch when she spied Filthy Rich in the reflection of her pocket mirror. “Heya, Ritchie.” She glanced back with a wink. “How’s business?” Spoiled Rich lashed her tail and glowered at her from behind her husband’s withers. “Good, as always.” Mr. Rich’s tie hung askew, like he’d been fiddling with it. “We’re expanding. Considering partnering up with the Brightly Company.” He closed the distance between them and leaned on the billiards table. “How about yourself?” Silver Spoon joined Diamond Tiara in the lounge chair, though Diamond didn’t seem to notice. “Can’t complain.” Goldie shrugged. “Three clients with a nationwide ad campaign, four with a decent film contract, and one in the biggest Bridleway hit since Mare of La Manecha. Oh, and I bought a new house.” Mr. Rich offered a weak, diplomatic smile. “Are you ever even in it?” “I pop by every couple months to give housekeeping something to do.” “Mm. Well, that’s…” The creaky half-smile snapped into a grimace. “No. No, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” He breathed a deliberate, calculated sigh. “Goldie, I’m grateful to you for bringing the girls here safe, I mean that, but I don’t think I can have you in this house. You need to go.” Diamond Tiara jolted upright. “Dad, she just got here!” Nopony besides Silver heard her. The pocket mirror shut with a snap. “Fine by me.” Golden Glitter curled her tail in a perfect pink arc. “I was on my way out, anyhow.” She flicked her sunglasses out and walked towards the entrance. Diamond bounced off the chair and ran to cut her off at the stairs. “Mom, no! It’s dangerous outside, and where are you even gonna go?” She stamped the plush carpet. “You can’t.” The elder Riches exchanged glances and moved fast. Spoiled got there first, reaching a foreleg around Diamond’s shoulder and steered her away from the stairs. “The school’s not far from here, sweetheart. There’s a shelter underneath it.” Diamond glared. “It’s four blocks away.” Goldie glanced at the ceiling and shrugged. “I’m a fast runner.” “I’d have thought it’d be the first place you went, honestly.” Mr. Rich blinked slow and dry. “It’s perfect. You like spending time with every other foal besides your own.” A ridge of fur sparked at the base of Golden’s mane. Slowly, she turned around. “You know, Filthy, I might see her more if somepony hadn’t shackled her to the boonies of Canterlot. Or been so mule-headed to get custody.” She held up a hoof before her ex could retort. “No, it’s fine. I don’t want to spend another minute in this tacky, gilded stable. Diamond, I’ll see you at Hearth’s Warming. If your father lets me.” Diamond Tiara wrapped her tail around her hooves and glanced at the stairs. For all intents and purposes, she’d technically done what she set out to do. After all, a pony too busy fighting couldn’t leave. Looking at the desolation upon Diamond’s face, however, Silver Spoon wondered if this option might have been worse. Mr. Rich raised his eyebrows. A cold laugh rumbled under his breath. “Right, Goldie. ‘Cause of course it’s always me, isn’t it? It’s my fault you can’t be bothered to see your own foal more than once a year. At most. Oh, but that’s not all I did, right?” He laughed again, now with all of his teeth bared. “I’m the one who forced you to move clear across Equestria. I’m the one who personally stops all the cabs and wagons and trains from ever gettin’ you five steps within Ponyville. Oh, and naturally I’M the one who bought up all the inns in town and told ‘em not to let you stay. You’ve sure got my number, darlin’.” Silver Spoon pressed against the back of the chair and stared. Once or twice, Silver had caught the smoldering embers of an argument between Mother and Father. At the country club, she’d watched adults she didn’t know trade viperous quips over champagne, either not knowing or not caring small foals were in the room. She’d also seen those same quips somersault into sobbing, drunken shouts. On rare occasions, Silver had even seen ponies on the street snap from verbal to physical fights. None of them were anything like this at all. A corrosive ugliness Silver Spoon didn’t have a name for bubbled up from the carpet and soured the air. She couldn’t recognize half the ponies in this room anymore. Diamond Tiara’s fires extinguished without a trace of smoke. She wilted against Mrs. Rich’s barrel and turned towards Silver’s direction, but she may as well have been staring at the wall. The wrongness of it all frayed the ends of Silver’s tail. She glanced at the panic room’s kitchenette, and recalled what she’d told Berry Pinch a couple of weeks ago: Sometimes when ponies are upset, angry, or scared, they say things they don’t mean. The ceiling rumbled. Things are pretty scary right now, but maybe… While Mr. Rich and Golden Glitter crossed verbal swords, Silver hopped out of the chair and went for the cabinets. Her nose led her to the teas in no time. She fired up a copper kettle she’d found with the teas, set out some cups on a platter and waited for the water to boil. Silver didn’t quite know what could be done here—she’d never handled an adult party on her own, and this setup didn’t constitute a real tea party—but still. Am I a party pony or aren’t I? She’d averted total disaster before, she could do it again. This was her element. Silver nodded to herself and took the kettle off before it could whistle and make everypony angrier than they already were. She jury-rigged a peppermint tea blend and let it steep. If I think a little outside the box, surely, I can— Somepony cleared his throat. Randolph—who’d come down with the Riches and quietly been picking price tags off the furniture—stood beside her and placed a hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “Hello, Randolph. Um, do you know if there’s a fancier pot down here? I don’t think Mrs. Rich would want to…” The butler didn’t seem enthusiastic to help. Silver frowned. “…to drink from a copper kettle.” Randolph blinked at her sympathetically, but shook his head. “Miss Silver.” He spoke in a soft, tottering creak. “You can’t fix this.” “But somepony’s got to do something! Look at this, this is terrible!” Randolph sighed. “Yes. And not your mess to fix.” Silver Spoon blinked at him, suddenly aware of something. “Since when do you talk?” “When it’s necessary.” He straightened and bowed his head to Mrs. Rich, who was approaching with Diamond trailing behind. Silver set up the sugar bowl and spoons, just in case. “Randolph? Can…” Terror and tears welled in her chest. She shoved it down. Brave young ladies did not cry in the presence of company. “Randolph, I know it’s a little late to ask, but can you leave the front door to the house open? For when Tacks gets here?” The old cob tilted his head curiously. “Brass Tacks teleported us and told us he’d meet us here. He said… he said he’d be right behind us, but we won’t hear him knock from down here. He can’t get in the house if the door’s not open.” Silver indicated the house above. “I don’t think whatever’s out there will be stopped by a front door anyway.” The shadow of Mrs. Spoiled Rich spread over the tea tray. She eyed the steaming teapot curiously, but said nothing of it. “Your butler knows how to teleport other ponies? More than one of them?” Silver chewed her bottom lip in defiance. “He’s not just a butler, Brass Tacks is my friend.” She glared at Mrs. Rich’s unimpressed expression. “And also my bodyguard.” “In that case,” said Mrs. Rich, “he’s done his job already and can probably take care of himself.” Silver flattened her ears. The job covered protection against muggers, kidnappers, pickpockets, criminals, and ketchup stains. Amazing as he was, whatever waited out there had to be way out of Brass Tacks’ pay grade. “Besides, it sounds like it’s calmed down out there already.” Indeed, the ceiling stopped rumbling a while ago. That might have been a credit to the panic room’s thick walls, or meant they’d entered the eye of the storm, or the emergency had truly ended. Mrs. Rich presumed the latter. With a flick of her head, she indicated the door. “Which means you can go now, Glitter.” Goldie smoothed her jacket collar. “Fine. I’m going.” Her eyes fixed upon Spoiled’s hoof on Diamond’s shoulder. Golden’s perfect teeth clenched. “Don’t want to get in the way of you playing house.” Diamond Tiara blinked slowly. Goldie’s pink and purple tail slipped up the stairs and vanished. Slowly, the vacant haze faded from her face. Diamond’s eyes narrowed into a familiar blue glare. The kind of glare that came before doing something stupid. Really stupid. Silver Spoon opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again when Diamond shot her a look. Diamond ducked out from Spoiled's hoof and bolted. “Mom, wait, I’ll—I’ll walk you to the school!” She cut through the room, hooves skidding and slipping over the carpet. Her hooves hit the stairs before anypony caught her. Mr. Rich hopped a coffee table and dashed after her. “Diamond Dazzle Tiara, you come back down here this instant!” Mrs. Rich remained in the kitchenette. She sank into a chair and let her hooves rest in her lap. Her eyes bored holes into the marble countertop. Silver nudged a cup of tea in her direction. After a moment, Spoiled Rich took it and sipped. Satisfied, Silver nodded and crept off to sneak back up the stairs. She cautiously stepped into the dim light of the War Room, flicking her ears. Down the hall, Diamond Tiara’s voice pitched over her parents’ gentle counterarguments. “No! If it’s safe enough for Mom, then it’s safe enough for me!” “Diamond, come on.” Goldie strained, as if trying to pull out of something. “I’ll be fine.” Mr. Rich did his best for calm, but it sounded like a struggle. “Your mama’s a grown mare, darlin’. It’s different.” “It’s not even half a mile from here, princess. You know me. I can make that in five seconds.” The front door swung open. A breeze rolled into the War Room, curling Silver’s braids. Goldie sighed. “I’ll still be here, and I’ll come right back as soon as we know it’s over. I bet it’s probably over alread—” THOOM! The house lurched and shook to its foundations. Something hit the roof so hard, bits of ceiling plaster dusted the floor. Winner sashes came fluttering down from the skylight, flopping over trophies, crowns, and Silver’s face. Silver shook off the trappings of Mini-Grande Supreme ’92 and stepped out into the hallways on trembling legs. Something in the air stung her eyes and hurt her throat. The front door sagged open on busted hinges. A few feet away, Golden, Diamond, and Mr. Rich huddled together in silent shock. They were staring at something. Silver Spoon stepped closer and looked outside. Several blocks away, dark plumes of smoke and embers billowed over the rooftops and into the orange sky. The stink of burning wood and paper choked the air. Tattered remains of books scattered across the roof of Pipsqueak’s house. And Twist’s. And Miss Shoeshine’s. A smoldering copy of Wuthering Hooves tumbled over the Riches’ welcome mat. Far away, a charred gnarl of wood twisted through the smoke. The lofty branches of Golden Oak Library had vanished. Filthy Rich coughed. “Maybe…” He blinked at the burnt pages scattering into his house. “Maybe that’s just a weird coincidence. I’m sure it’s fine.” Diamond glared. “Daddy!” “Totally fine,” said Golden Glitter. A lens popped out of her sunglasses. “Libraries explode all the time. You know, one of those natural small-town milestones.” Mr. Rich nodded. “Yup. First farm, first store opening, first thousand ponies, first tourist spot, the first time a library explodes...” Goldie brushed ash out of her mane. “Cycle of life.” A blinding light sliced through the smoke towards the hulking horned mass outside the Everfree Forest. The air burned and the ground trembled. The light of a mushroom cloud reflected in Goldie’s remaining lens. “But, uh… it wouldn’t hurt to stick around a little while longer.” She shot Mr. Rich a glare he pretended to ignore and marched down the hall. Glass tinkled around the corner. Silver Spoon coughed and sat up. She thought she heard hoofsteps on tile, but everypony should have already been either here or downstairs. Goldie pricked her ears. “Something’s in the kitchen.” As one, Golden and Mr. Rich took up Diamond Tiara and shoved her into the War Room with Silver Spoon. Around the corner, something fell and shattered. Before either filly could try and see what was happening, Spoiled Rich grabbed their tails and dragged them down into the panic room. She pinned them in place with a glare. “Don’t know why children can’t do what they’re told.” Overhead, Mr. Rich braced for impact. “Who’s out there, comin’ round? Speak up!” “It’s us, sir,” a young mare’s voice rasped. She had a terrible cough. Diamond glanced at her stepmother. “That sounds kind of like Dusty Trails.” Mrs. Rich kept her grip on Diamond’s tail, watching Goldie trot back down the stairs. “It does.” It went quiet. After a few moments, Mr. Rich backed into the panic room. “…won’t hear of it. It’s the least I can do for getting everypony here safe. I can’t tell him how grateful we are.” “I know he appreciates it, sir.” A maid with a sooty purple coat and a blue mane limped over the lush carpet. She supported a barely conscious Brass Tacks upon her withers. The maid—Dusty Trails, apparently—coughed and nodded to Silver Spoon. “He’s fine.” Silver’s dry throat cracked with a whimper. “No, he’s not.” The shine in Brass Tacks’ coat had dulled to the color of parched soil. At the sound of Silver’s voice, his ears twitched against his limp, sallow mane. When he tried to stand, his legs buckled under him and he fell back upon the maid’s withers. Brass Tacks blinked at her through milky, clouded eyes. “Well, he’s alive, anyway. That’s fine enough.” Dusty Trails glanced at Tacks with the same milky eyes while she eased him onto the soft carpet. Randolph whispered something to Dusty that made her smile. He nodded, patted her on the back, and stepped aside to speak with Mr. Rich. Silver Spoon curled next to Brass Tacks and nuzzled his ear. She guessed he hadn’t found Father at the train station. “I’m sorry, Tacks. I should have stayed closer to the house.” “Think nothing of it, Miss Silver.” Brass Tacks brushed ceiling plaster off Silver’s haunches and checked her for damage. He waved his charred tail and smiled at her. “This is a better spot, anyhow.” Diamond Tiara sat on the unicorn’s opposite side. She tilted her head, squinting at his haunch. “Your cutie mark is gone,” she whispered. Indeed, the blue irises weaving through crossed keys had vanished. Brass Tacks lay blank as a newborn foal. “Is yours gone too, Dusty?” Dusty Trails bowed her head and sighed. “Yes, miss.” She frowned at sooty hoofprints she’d tracked across the carpet. “Completely.” The little pink filly stared at him, still not processing it. “But… like… how?” “Taken.” Brass Tacks bobbed his horn toward the shaking vault lock above their heads. “Along with the…” He ground his teeth and tried to shake the cobwebs out of his head. “…the rest of our magic.” Silver Spoon wrapped her forelegs around her butler’s lean neck and buried her face in his ashen mane. He smelled like a steel mill, all smoke and sweat and sulfur. Mr. Rich sank into the daybed, next to his wife. He rustled a hoof through his mane, staring at the ceiling. “What in Tartarus are we dealing with, Spoils?” “We?” Goldie paced the room, flicking her tail like a metronome. “We’re not dealing with anything—not that you ever deal with anything, anyhow—that’s for that new princess of yours.” Mr. Rich snorted and ignored her. “Do you think she’ll get him?” Diamond Tiara asked nopony in particular. “I mean, it’s kind of her job. She has to do her job, right?” “I do believe she shall, Miss Tiara. Young Miss Silver Spoon, if you’ll kindly step aside a moment?” Brass Tacks sat up and shook the ashes out of his mane. He adjusted the lapels of his tattered tailcoat, and flicked some debris out of his tail. “Are you quite sure you’re alright?” Silver helped wipe the soot from his cheeks. At worst, her hooficure would be ruined, but then, what didn’t ruin nice hooves in Ponyville? She’d live. “Yes, Tacks.” She stared at the fog in his eyes and bit her bottom lip. “I’m okay.” “Very good.” The tip of Brass Tacks’ nose sniffed at Silver’s hooves. “You’ve brewed tea. Peppermint, I believe.” Diamond Tiara lashed her tail and gave Silver a weird squint. “You made tea? When?” At the farther end of the room, the Riches and Golden Glitter huddled with harsh whispers and strained sentences. Another storm brewed beside the daybed, quieter this time. Every few seconds, the jagged corner of an argument poked out. “…am not getting into this with you again, Golden.” Silver shifted towards a more peaceful part of the room. “Um. A little while ago.” The steel tiara slumped with Diamond’s head toss. “Everything else going on today and you decide to focus on teatime? Seriously, what is the matter with you?” She tilted the tiara back into her mane, but her flattened ears couldn’t keep it upright. “That’s not gonna fix anything, Silver Spoon.” “That’s right, Filthy. Go back to your charts and stick your head in the sand like you always do.” It likely wasn’t even very good tea, either. Silver had to use whatever she found on hoof, and neither the withered peppermint leaves nor sparse fennel seeds looked exceptionally promising. She’d added some ginger and honey to even it out, but who knew if it hadn’t only made the brew worse. “Don’t you speak to him that way! I’ve never seen a mare so ungrateful. Thank your lucky stars you’re in here at all and not out there on your rump.” “It was the only thing I could think of.” Silver should have tasted the tea before she let Mrs. Rich have some. Hopefully she hadn’t been too disappointed with it. Silver Spoon wrapped her tail close to herself. “I dunno, I just thought… I dunno.” Brass Tacks leaned one ear towards the festering nastiness in the corner. He smiled to cover a frown. “Well, I, for one, would enjoy a cup of tea. My throat could certainly use it after the hot air.” The unicorn eased to his hooves, walked a few steps to test his legs, and nodded toward one of the large beds with thick curtains. “Why don’t we take our tea there? It appears to be a somewhat cozy and…” “Ha! I thank my lucky stars there’s even a house left, the way you’ve handled things.” “…quieter place.” Diamond, who did not appear at all in the mood for tea, wrinkled her nose and readied a complaint. A few feet away, her father brushed past the bookcase and stormed into the kitchenette to cool off, armed with a pen and a small portfolio of paperwork. “Yeah. Tea does sound kind of good.” Despite Silver’s protest, Brass Tacks insisted on sending them ahead while he took care of the tea. Diamond crawled over the satin duvet and nestled into a nest of throw pillows at the head of the bed. Silver drew the bed curtains, leaving just enough room to stick her head out in case Tacks needed any help. The lack of magic slowed him down—two minutes instead of twenty seconds—but he managed to gather up the tea tray without much trouble. Before he joined them, Tacks paused and gave the Riches a loaded stare. “…can’t be surprised, it is in the name. I feel for you Spoiled, but I don’t see why you’re so determined to ruin my foal just because you can’t have your own.” Goldie didn’t even bother whispering anymore. Tacks drew the bed curtains tight. Silver Spoon sighed, listening to the familiar comfort of tea pouring into teacups. She listened until it became louder than the voices outside, louder than the terrible rumbling above their heads, louder than the labored breathing of her butler. Here was tea. Tea was good. “It has gone a bit lukewarm, but no harm done.” Tacks took a sip and smiled. “You discredit yourself, Miss Silver. Superb work as always.” Silver tried some for herself. It tasted… well, it did alright. Still better than generic teabags. “Thank you, Brass Tacks.” She took another sip and smiled a little. Yes, even if everything else had gone bad, tea was always good. Somepony muffled something nasty and indecipherable. Somepony else cried out in indignation. Diamond cradled her teacup in her hooves, staring at her reflection. “Can I have more sugar? Please?” “Really, Spoils, sweetheart?” Silver could practically hear Golden’s crushing smile through the curtains. “In that case, maybe you can explain why you’ve turned my daughter into a loser.” “For Celestia’s sake! She’s right there.” “Oh. He speaks.” “Of course, Diamond.” The sugar spoon shook in Silver’s hooves. “One lump or two?” “Five.” That honestly made it more sugar than tea, but whatever. Diamond slung back half a cup and squeezed her eyes shut. “I should have just let her go to the schoolhouse before.” She gulped down the rest. “I knew they’d do this.” “Oh, trust me, Filthy, I know! It’s not Diamond I’m blaming.” Diamond Tiara huddled into the pillows. “They always do this.” “But you weren’t wrong, Di.” Silver edged closer, but she couldn’t quite pass the moat of bolster pillows. She reached a hoof out anyway. “You wanted to keep everypony safe, and it’s really safe down here. Right, Tacks?” No response. Brass Tacks curled at the foot of the bed, gangly hooves dangling over the footboard so they wouldn’t stain the duvet. He’d fallen fast asleep. Silver hoped the commotion wouldn’t wake him up; she didn’t think he’d slept at all last night. “You know what?” Spoiled Rich’s laugh rang thorned and hollow. “You’re right. I’m not her mother. I never sent her to the emergency room.” A heartbeat of silence. “You wer—NEITHER of you were there, and don’t you dare give me that look Filthy Rich, don’t you dare! What happened in Vanhoover was an accident and you know it!” Diamond Tiara pulled her cracked hoof against her barrel and sank deeper into the pillows. She pressed her cheek against the silk, breathing hard against the fringe. The little flag of her tail tip lashed over the side of the pillow fortress. She muttered something into the fabric. Silver twitched her ears. She’d heard her name in there. “Di? Did you say something?” She shifted. Blue eyes glared over a crest of chiffon fringe. “I still can’t believe you want to make nice with the Crusaders. Even after all they’ve done.” Her voice shook. “After all the times I’d been doing great and they wrecked everything.” That had not been the subject Silver Spoon expected at all. She blinked, unsure of how to respond. “Diamond, I don’t think they do it on purpose. It sort of just… happens. They wreck stuff like a freak storm or a hydra wrecks stuff. It’s not personal. That’s why I don’t want us to step into their path anymore. Try to be… well, if not nicer, then civil.” Silver reached out to the pink hoof poking over the pillow. The hoof snapped back before Silver reached it. “Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter if I’m civil to them or not, Silver Spoon! I tried being nice and fair and a good boss when they were writing the Gabby Gums stuff, and look what happened.” She wrapped her hooves around one of the pillows and gave it a firm shake. All at once, a familiar wave of oily blackness rose from the depths of Silver’s stomach. “Uh, Diamond, I…” She poured herself more tea to steady her hooves. “I’m not sure what happened with the Press was the Crusaders’ fault. Not entirely, anyway.” A snort ruffled the pillow fringe. “Yeah?” Diamond bared her teeth in a snarl. “Yeah? Whose is it then? If it’s not them, then…” The snarl crumbled into a grimace. “…then why am I losing? Why am I losing all the time?” She buried her face in the pillows and Silver heard a muffled whimper. “Why can’t I win, Silver Spoon?” If she knew the answer to that, Silver would have told her a long time ago. She couldn’t touch Diamond within the pillow nest, so she cozied up to one of the silk bolsters. “I’m supposed to be a winner, Silvie. I don’t understand what happened.” A wet sniff. “Is it me? Am I not trying hard enough?” “Diamond.” The long claws of guilt wrapped around her throat until she couldn’t breathe. “Di, the thing with the press… It… um… It wasn’t…” It bubbled beneath Silver’s bones and skin, and burned her tongue. “It wasn’t the Crusaders’ fault, but it wasn’t entirely your fault, either. Like. Um.” Her mouth forgot how to form words. “What I mean to s-say i-is… uh.” Diamond Tiara’s ears flicked up. Slowly, she lifted her head from the pillow and rubbed her wet eyes. “Silver Spoon.” Something pieced together behind her eyes. Her withers stopped trembling and her breathing steadied. “Silver, the thing Pinch said, that you… That you told Featherweight to—” Diamond took a deep breath and looked Silver Spoon in the eye. “You messed up my editor job. Didn’t you?” Silver Spoon nodded. “I’m so sorry, Diamond Tiara. I didn’t…” Didn’t what? Didn’t think about how much it meant to her? Didn’t think it would hurt her? Didn’t think at all? Even if all of those were true, they still were pathetic excuses. “I did tell Featherweight to use the pictures because I knew what you’d use them for, but that’s all.” Silver heard her voice talking but didn’t feel herself saying words. “I also don’t really think the Gabby Gums thing could have lasted much longer, no matter what anypony did. The Crusaders are too clumsy not to have been found out on their own.” For all Silver knew, maybe they already had. Maybe she’d done the whole thing for nothing. Silver cast her eyes down at the pillows. “Anyway, it’s still partly my fault. I’m really, really sorry, Di. I’ve been sorry.” “I bet you are.” “I didn’t know how to tell you.” “I bet you didn’t.” The nest of pillows tumbled off Diamond’s shoulders as she stood up and shook herself off. She jumped onto the velvet duvet without a sound. She paced in a circle, first clockwise, then counterclockwise. Diamond stopped and looked at her. Not angrily. Not with the slow-burn build to anger, either. No faux-serenity masking anger. No cold fire. No scowls. No narrowed eyes or pinned ears. She didn’t even sound upset. “Was it because of your crush on Featherweight?” “When all the secrets started being published in the paper, I thought—” …Wait. Wait, what?! “I—no!” Silver felt her whole face burn from ear tip to chin. Her glasses fogged up and for a second, her tongue forgot how to work. “Wh-what… are you talking about? I don’t have a crush on Featherw—” Diamond snorted. “I’m not the blind stupid idiot you think I am, Silver Spoon. You drooled all over him through half of Nightmare Night and mooned over his flimsy wings all through Hearts and Hooves. You’ve got rotten taste in colts, Silver, but whatever. No tan off my hide.” Silver pulled into a ball and flattened against the duvet. Diamond’s shadow fell over her shoulders. Silver’s tongue still wouldn’t work. “What, did you think if you gave him a cushy editing job, he’d hold your hoof?” A dark smile curled at Silver’s flinch. Diamond laughed. “You thought you two would share milkshakes at Sugarcube Corner? Go to the school dance and he’d ask you to be his special somepony?” “Diamond, n-no, it wasn’t—wasn’t like tha—” “Oh, no, I think I got it! You wanted a big wet kiss from those giant ugly buck teeth.” She laughed again. “It’d be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.” Diamond kneeled down to eye level and wrapped a foreleg around Silver’s shaking withers. “Oh, and fun fact: Featherweight likes colts.” Silver Spoon stared at her. “…he does?” she whispered. “Yup! He’s had a crush on Rumble since last year. What, you didn’t know that?” Diamond Tiara grinned so wide Silver saw the alfalfa in her molars. “Wow. Guess that means you went and sold out your best friend for absolutely no reason, huh? Sweet Luna, what an idiot." “Diamond, I got SCARED!” Silver’s words squeaked out a tight, frantic whisper. “I didn’t do it because of Featherweight. I… I just got scared and I did something stupid. I’m sorry. Diamond, please. I’m so sorry.” The grin faded. Diamond Tiara flicked an ear. “I believe you. It doesn’t matter anymore, Silver.” She brushed open the curtain and hopped onto the carpet. “It’s fine. Quit crying before you stain the velvet.” Silver Spoon hiccuped. She sniffled and wiped her lenses. No wonder they’d gotten so blurry; she hadn’t even realized she’d been crying. Brass Tacks shifted at the end of the bed. Still asleep. Silver folded part of the duvet over him so he wouldn’t be cold and stepped back out into the panic room. She twitched her ears. No low rumblings from the ceiling. No shouting. No whispered venom or stifled crying. Nothing at all. Silence misted over the varnished wood and fluffy carpet. It reminded Silver of humid air after rainfall, the kind that fizzed manes and made fetlocks soggy. Silver crept to where Diamond Tiara sat staring up the stairs. The hatch hung wide open, with Mr. Rich and Randolph nowhere to be seen. They must have gone up to check if the coast was clear. She wondered how long they’d been gone. The maid, Dusty Trails, dozed in the corner with her tail wrapped over her flank. Golden Glitter and Spoiled Rich stood in deadlocked silence beside the fireplace, waiting for the other to strike. Every couple of seconds, Goldie glanced at the fillies in the room and she recalculated whatever argument she’d been building up to. At some point, she’d reapplied her eyeshadow; when the light touched Goldie’s face, Silver saw faint smudge lines on her cheeks. An aura of calm severity hung over Mrs. Rich, calmer than she’d been all day. Whatever had happened, she’d gained the high ground. She took a breath and continued off an earlier tangent. “The simple fact is, Glitter, there are better, more productive applications of her talents than the stage.” She glanced at Diamond, who didn’t dare glance back. “It isn’t my fault or his if you’re too mulish to see that.” “Hm. Decent sales pitch, Spoiled, but anypony can toss out a couple of buzzwords. It means nothing without results—at least I’ve accomplished something.” Goldie flicked her pocket mirror open and sighed. “What have you produced, aside from more stress and zilch to show for it?” The mirror snapped shut without Goldie even looking inside. “Do you even have an example of one of these 'productive applications'? Or a plan, for that matter?” Mrs. Rich raised her eyebrows, unfazed. “Well, Glitter, not all ponies are so tacky and insecure they need to announce their plans with a megaphone.” She angled her head towards Silver Spoon and fixed her under a teal gaze. She smiled. Instinctively, Silver edged towards Diamond Tiara. Diamond stared at her as if Silver had just been sick on the rug. After a moment, she smiled, too. Silver Spoon clutched her saddlebag and flattened her ears. The student council pin on Silver’s bag gleamed in Spoiled Rich’s eyes. “I’ll have you know, Miss Glitter, our little Diamond Tiara is aiming for Student Pony President next month.” Silver blinked and frowned. “She is?” She looked to Diamond, who stood up and blinked back at her. “You are?” “Uh. Y-yeah?” Diamond glanced between the two mares and her best friend. She cleared her throat, tilting her chin in the air. “Yeah. Of course I am!” “Of course she is.” Spoiled Rich fluffed her mane, smiling sweetly at the room. “Why do you look so surprised, Silver Spoon? I thought you would have known, being secretary of the student council.” “I know, right?” Diamond’s tail whipcracked against Silver’s hoof. “Come on, like, keep up, Silver Spoon.” Silver Spoon would have bet her rarest tea blends that Diamond didn’t know Ponyville Schoolhouse even had a president until ten seconds ago. Would have, except after the past couple of hours, Silver didn’t really feel certain of anything anymore. “I told you about it,” said Diamond. “Remember?” “Oh, right. …Right.” Silver adjusted her glasses. “You’ve been planning it since Aug—” Diamond stared at her hard. “Uh. Since May.” At Diamond’s slight nod, Silver smiled. “Yes, May. Started plans in May, solidified them in August. Heh, must have slipped my mind.” “May, huh?” Golden Glitter raised an eyebrow at her daughter. In better circumstances, she might have smiled. “Strange nopony mentioned it before.” Diamond shrugged. “We didn’t get a lot of time to talk before all that stuff happened.” “There’s not much to tell this early,” Silver added. “Nopony else has even officially announced they’re running yet.” Keyword officially. Interest had been expressed in the position a while back, but she’d heard nothing else about it since then. “I’ll take your word for it, then. Good luck, Diamond.” Golden offered a small smile. “Thanks.” Above, the lanterns pulsed once, then twice. Randolph appeared at the foot of the stairs to confirm the all-clear. “Finally.” Spoiled Rich wrinkled her nose at the hoofprint stains in the carpet and nodded towards Dusty Trails in the corner. “When that one wakes up, tell her clean up her mess.” She dropped her robe in the butler’s waiting hooves and climbed up. Diamond and Goldie followed a few steps behind. Diamond waved from the top. “Come on, Silver.” Silver glanced back towards the bed where Tacks still slept. “Today, Silver.” Silver sighed. “Randolph, can you wake Brass Tacks up and tell him it’s safe outside?” At the old stallion’s nod, she rushed up and out into the War Room. Above, cracks spiderwebbed across the skylight. The sun, unhindered by the banners and sashes, hurt her eyes. In the hall, Spoiled wished Golden a terse, “See you,” with a distinct aftertaste of “in Tartarus.” Goldie snorted after her and grumbled a sentence most unsuitable for polite society. “You know...” Diamond waited until her stepmother had rounded the corner. She sidled up to Goldie’s leg. “You could stay a while longer. The inn doesn’t have any stars, but it’s not that bad.” From the living room, Filthy Rich’s voice assessed damages to the house. Apparently, part of the roof had caught fire and since gone out. “Diamond, princess.” Golden Glitter rubbed her temples. “I don’t think that’ll work.” “I didn’t think it would,” sighed Diamond. “We can still finish our walk, if you want.” “Okay. That’s good.” Outside, a pastel rainbow arched above the battered rooftops and smoking debris. Odd, as Silver saw no sign of rain. A few pegasi fluttered amongst the clouds, perhaps one of them made it. One of them nosedived straight toward The Dink’s house. A few restaurants had already reopened for business. Golden Glitter bought them all a round of carrot dogs and raspberry lemonade, so they could eat while they walked. It was a significantly quieter walk than before. A train whistled in the distance. Diamond watched her mother’s ears prick. “You were on the train to Canterlot, weren’t you? You didn’t plan on visiting me today at all.” “Close, but you’re only half right.” Goldie swallowed the last of her carrot dog. “As a matter of fact, missy, I did plan to visit, just not today. I had an extra day or two on the way back from my week-long conference in Canterlot.” And she had also probably intended to send a message ahead of time. “Oh,” said Diamond. “Are you still going to?” Debris crunched behind them. Silver Spoon turned to find Brass Tacks plodding a respectful distance away. He’d exchanged the tattered suit for a new vest and tie. Where he got them, Sliver had no idea. The cutie marks had returned to his haunches, and when he raised his head to nod at her, his eyes shone clear. Still, Tacks looked like he could use a nap or… twelve. Golden Glitter hummed uncertainly. “The conference might be delayed, thanks to…” She gestured to the wreckage around them. “I have no idea how long it’ll take now, especially with that distempered little nag, Svengallop, directing. But if I can, I’ll still drop by on my way back to Applewood.” She smiled her million-bit smile. “I promise.” “Okay.” Diamond smiled back, but it faded after a moment. She shuffled her hooves and looked at the pony-sized dent smashed into the side of a dentist’s office. “You’ve promised before, though.” The million-bit smile dropped a few zeroes. Goldie chuckled under her breath. “Nopony’s pulling a fast one on you, huh? Okay, how’s this: I promise to do my best to drop by on my way back. And if not, I’ll get down here for Hearth’s Warming.” For a second, Diamond’s eyes shone brighter than the broken glass at her hooves. “Really?” She twitched her tail, thinking it over. “I’m not sure if Dad’ll like that, though. And don’t you have to work?” “Your father doesn’t like a lot of things; he’ll get over it. We just need to stay out of each other’s manes, that’s all. I haven’t had a vacation in, what, six years? I’m way overdue.” She kicked the broken glass out of her path. “Besides, it’s not every Hearth’s Warming I get to meet with a president. Don’t beat the other guy too bad, alright?” Diamond Tiara stuck her nose in the air. “No promises.” She exchanged a meaningful glance with Silver Spoon. “Whoever the other guy is, they’re going down, because I am going to win.” “I don’t doubt it.” The train station appeared over the next ridge. Goldie’s pace slowed to a stroll. “You do know I love you no matter what happens, right?” This conversation started to edge into awkward territory. Silver fell back a couple of paces to give them space. It also gave her the chance to walk with Brass Tacks. She stepped lightly around the juts of obsidian spiking from the ground. Princess Twilight must have passed through here. “Yeah, and what’s going to happen is I’m gonna win.” Diamond lifted her head high and narrowed her eyes. “I’m gonna be perfect.” The train platform rumbled with activity. The crowds leapt back into impatient activity, with passengers and conductors shouting to be heard over each other. The battle debris had been pushed aside to form a hill of loose nails, boards, and broken glass. It looked like the trains had started running again. Silver wondered if Father might make it home tonight after all. She hoped so. Golden Glitter helped Diamond Tiara onto the platform. She brushed the bangs out of her daughter’s eyes and looked at her a long moment. “You’re already perfect, you hear me? You’re strong and brave and beautiful, and…” She lurched forward and crushed Diamond in a hug. “Oh, Diamond Tiara, you’re brilliant! You’re the brightest star in my whole damn sky. Nopony shines brighter, don’t forget that. I love you.” Diamond buried her nose in Goldie’s short mane. “I know. I love you too, Mommy.” She pulled away with a nod. “I’m going to make you proud.” “You already do, princess.” The train to Canterlot boarded at six. In the half-hour they had to wait, Golden bought them all flower wreaths, both for future victory and a pre-dinner snack. Brass Tacks ate his in only a few bites, while Diamond elected to wear hers on her head. They sat on the bench together until Golden Glitter boarded her train. Diamond Tiara perched at the edge of the platform, watching the caboose fade into the horizon. The setting sun glinted off the fresh obsidian and lit her tiara bright orange—a blazing torch in the center of her flower crown. “Silver Spoon.” Diamond didn’t move her head. “You are with me on the student pony president campaign, right?” “Absolutely!” Silver cried a little too loudly. “I’m with you all the way, Diamond.” “You’re not going to get ‘scared’ again?” “No.” Silver thought it over. She played the strongest card in her deck. The one thing she couldn’t break. “I won’t get scared on this. I give you my word.” “Hmph. Good.” The fillies shook on it. Diamond slowly stood up and popped the bones in her neck. “Let’s get to work.”