//------------------------------// // Freed From the Future // Story: Transient // by Impossible Numbers //------------------------------// After the days and weeks of darkness, after the ear-splitting silence that left her mind humming in an attempt to fill it, and after the breaths that were as cold as inhaling winter snow, Pinkie blinked. “Uh…” she said, and her voice echoed in the void. “Rarity?” The darkness drew back as a black tar oozing away. It expanded outwards, leaving behind stalactites like misshapen fangs. The whole ceiling looked as though it had been ripped away from the floor, which spiked upwards in reply. Then Pinkie stepped forwards with a splash, and ripples wiped across the subterranean lake. Everything was golden, but it had no lustre. Even the water looked as though it was mixed with sunset dust. The darkness vanished from the cavern. She turned around. Rarity sat with her back to her. Shoulder blades poked out of her back. Each vertebra in her spine protruded like a spike. Her mane and tail were nothing more than grey cascades. Both ears drooped. She was staring up at something. Pinkie rubbed her eyes and looked again. Beyond the unicorn, row after row and column after column of statues stretched into the distance. A whole army stood there, all ponies standing to attention. All – she noticed the horns on each one – unicorns. The clay models boasted red and brown clothes of all kinds. Billowing dresses, razor-edged suits, hats as wild and splaying as a box of Hearth’s Warming decorations. All the figures were smiling and young. Yet as she stared and stepped forwards, Pinkie saw the features of the next ones, and blinked in surprise. For the first row, the figures were detailed down to their irises and the fine hairs of their eyebrows. The next ones were at least passable. But then they thinned out, became rough rounded lumps the further back they went. Soon, nothing but misshapen blobs could be made out far into the distance. “Whoa,” said Pinkie. She sat down next to Rarity, who didn’t move. “Aren’t they beautiful?” The voice was half-choked. Pinkie turned her head round. Cheekbones lined Rarity’s face. “Um…” Pinkie began. “They’re OK, I guess?” But deep down, her inner rock farmer turned its nose up at the display. Inferior terracotta. Hey, doesn’t this look a bit like that buried unicorn army thing Maud was talking about? She found it in the east, or something. No one else had seen it in thousands of years. Half of it was crumbled when she found it. What a load of waste. Her gaze alighted on the sculpted smiles. They look really creepy. “And they’re going to be here forever,” breathed Rarity. Her cheeks gleamed with moisture. A dark pit opened up inside Pinkie’s stomach. “We really should be looking for a way out of here, doncha think? I don’t wanna panic you, but this place is trying to get us good. I mean, I’m not scared or anything. I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” “So beautiful,” Rarity continued, “so long-lived, so perfect.” Pinkie grimaced. It wasn’t just her sense of beauty; something felt wretched about those statues. She shivered just looking at them. A flicker of pity sparked in her heart. All those things are famous. The Trojan Horse’s Causeway, the Nightmare’s Tower… everyone says they’re so pretty, but… No one ever actually seems to remember them. I asked Twilight once when she went to visit. Next day, poof. Couldn’t remember a thing. They were OK. The important thing was that Rarity found them beautiful. Pinkie’s grimace tightened. “They could outlast everybody,” murmured Rarity. “So pristine. Sweetie Belle, Grandmother, everyone.” “Why would you want to do that?” said Pinkie, cocking her head. Rarity continued staring, but a flicker of a frown crossed her sagging face. “Oh, you wouldn’t understand, Pinkie. Sweetie Belle didn’t, either. You’re so… simple. You think everything is going to stay the same, even when it changes.” She closed her eyes. Under her breath, she muttered something so quietly that Pinkie had to strain to hear it. “Gather ye rosebuds while ye may, Old time is still a-flying, And this same flower that smiles today Tomorrow will be dying…” Ripples pressed in on all sides. Pinkie held her breath, but wherever she looked, there were only terracotta figures, and the endless stalactites, and the lake. Rarity’s hair flicked against the breeze, which never stopped. Maud wrote a poem like that once. Except about sand. How the little dunes shift all the time. She didn’t like that one, but I thought it was OK. Oh, what am I thinking? We’re in trouble! We need to skedaddle, like, pronto! “Er… Rarity? I like poetry as much as the next pony, but wouldn’t it be better to go home and tell other ponies about it?” Where is that howling coming from? I can’t see any of those shadow things anywhere. “It’s not fair,” whispered Rarity. “I don’t want to end up like Grandmother. She always sang those lines. Sweetie Belle’s going to see me turn ugly. Pinkie, I’m living on a knife edge. I can’t stand it. I have to do something. A lady does not go gentle into the quiet night.” “How about a seamstress? Rarity!?” Pinkie shook her, waved a hoof in front of her, head-butted her shoulder again, and banged both hooves together. Regardless of what she did, Rarity was in another world. Around them, the breeze and ripples became a shuddering whirlwind. “I kept those pictures for years,” whined Rarity, and her reddening eyes oozed with tears. “She said it would be good enough, but I knew she was lying. Those pictures taunt me! Just like those crystals! It’s not fair! Why should dead things live on in such splendour, and not I? Why not Grandmother? It was cruel what they did to her.” Wind whistled through the statues. Pinkie heard the howls echoing around them, snatching at her mane. Finally, she looked up. Shoals of shadows spun round and round, a black tornado flicking tails and champing obsidian fangs like irritated crocodiles. Now they were better defined; stumpy limbs with splayed claws lined up against bulging flanks, spikes of armour sprouted along their backs, and several opened eyes like burning blood. The whirlwind funnelled down, surrounding Rarity. Her chipped hooves faded into red and brown. Like a shadow, the hues eased up her legs. “I…” whimpered Rarity, fighting to speak. “I… I don’t want to do that to my own sister…” She bit her lip, fighting harder, scrunching her eyes. Pinkie saw two Rarity’s for the first time. One glowered at her sister, who was playing dress-up and cooing as though at a Canterlot Garden Party. One turned its back to Sweetie Belle, no matter how many times the younger sister tried peering around to talk to her. Rarity had been trying the same dress design over and over for the last few weeks. At the time, Pinkie had assumed she was taking extra care to make the dress perfect. Yet now she thought about it, Rarity had metamorphosed several complex entities far grander than that sketch in a couple of days. And before their cutie marks had glowed, her memory reminded her, Rarity had been twirling a stray lock in her hair and glancing at it occasionally. Pinkie could guess what colour it had been, though her eyes were nowhere near as sharp as Rarity’s. “I just wish I hadn’t argued with her before we left.” Rarity’s voice was barely an echo on the wind. Pinkie’s mind flicked through file after file, trying to match sister with sister. Overhead, the creatures howled. It didn’t look like they were going to dive-bomb them anytime. Rarity must’ve been giving them exactly what they wanted. Strange creatures raided the rock farm all the time. Pinkie’s eyes turned to steel. “Is that what this is all about?” she said, but she forced herself to soften her expression. “Oh, Rarity. It’s not like you’re the only pony this ever happens to.” The red and brown crept up Rarity’s elbow and spread across her torso. Ahead of it, the skin turned white. Wrinkles vanished. Grey hairs curled back into purple hues. The veins in her eyes faded away. No, no, no, no, no! What do I say? What do I do? That’s gonna have her in minutes! “Come on, Rarity!” She seized the unicorn by her petrified limbs and tugged. She might as well have tried towing a mountain. The terracotta joined across Rarity’s back and the last of it reached up her neck and down her elegantly curled tail. Rarity’s fuller lips curled into a smile. Whereupon, Pinkie leaped forwards and bit her mane and tugged hard. Rarity’s yelp exploded. Her face twisted in pain and rage. Overhead, the shadows bumped into each other’s flanks and squealed with surprise. “What!?” shrieked Rarity. “What did you do that for!?” Pinkie spat out the locks. “Because you’re being nutty! You wanna hide away like your Grandmother and do diddlysquat? Really? You?” “But… but life’s so short… all it takes is one grey hair, one tiny wrinkle, one hoof out of place – I’m going to be finished! It’s starting already –” “So? You just gonna give up and waste what little there is? I’ve known quitters, and you are not a quitter!” Rage boiled in Pinkie’s chest. The insult was a blow of a hammer on her head. She knew she wasn’t beautiful, would never be beautiful, had too much rock farmer and too much Pinkie Pie craziness in her to be truly beautiful, but she’d be darned and quartered if she was going to be overlooked by someone who could spend hours curling their hair. “I mean, really, Rarity? You, getting so worked up because of a little old age? Because you know what everyone knows, that the party’s gonna end sometime? Really?” Struck around the head by the words, Rarity spluttered. “You don’t understand –” “Oh yeah? Well, Granny Pie was quite a looker when she was my age. Do you think she went to pieces because she went all saggy, and ugly, and had this really weird squint and some crow put its feet in her eyes?” The tidal wave of rage burst through another dam. Rarity’s words of complaint – mostly about her concept of “crow’s feet” – vanished under her own whirlwind. “No. Because she saw the rainbow, and the real beauty was inside her all along. It’s just pretty colours and shapes, she said. And that’s nice, I said. Yes indeed, little Pinkie, she said, but what’s really important is having inner beauty. Oh Rarity, do you really think we’ll stop caring just because you look like an old witch?” “This isn’t helping,” fumed Rarity. “Well, I don’t care what you look like or how good it makes you feel. Maud’s got a pet rock. You think she cares he’s just a blob of igneous? No. ‘Cause she knows the real him, and I know the real you. And I’m gonna prove it to you!” “Did you seriously just compare me to Boulder?” More squeals and howls rained down from above. Below Rarity’s jaw line, the crawling terracotta stopped. Around them, the whirling winds slowed to a gale. “It’s not just that…” Rarity sniffed; the terracotta slipped past her nape and over her scalp. “That’s just it… I’m… I’m losing my inner beauty. That dress… Sweetie Belle…” Pinkie stayed quiet while the winds flapped about her mane and the howls became frantic. She glanced at the terracotta figures, all hidden away, where no one would ever see them except whoever stumbled down here. Did they all have friends with them? What happened to them? Was it those things that did it? All they need is a little fear, and then they fan it and feed it, and when it’s big enough… Nom! I know what they are! Granny Pie warned me about them! How could I have not seen it!? I promised I’d remember. How could I have done this to her? I'm so stupid! “I know what to do,” she said softly. She held out a hoof. “If we get old, and we’re still together, then I, Pinkamena Diane Pie, promise to always help you stay beautiful on the inside. See? You just smiled. I saw you. I’m doing it already!” Rarity stared at her. Her eyes flickered from pure white to bloodshot red. “How do you mean?” “I dunno. But Granny Pie managed it.” While the terracotta figures swayed in the winds, Rarity pouted her bloodless lips, but the wet streaks shone down her face. “Pinkie, you are the most sentimental pony I have ever met.” “Well, you’re even more sentimentaler than me.” She jabbed the hoof again. “We’re like twin crystals from the same shaft. So, deal?” The terracotta line was a circle around Rarity’s long eyelashes, her fuller cheeks, her dainty chin. All the shadows screamed with impatience. Then the line receded. Rarity’s lips stretched, distorting her face, but the smile pushed such petty concerns out of the way. Her neck turned white, her mane bounced with newfound freedom, her shoulders shuddered with suppressed sobs, and when the last of the red and the brown vanished below her hooves, she raised one and took Pinkie’s. In the whirlwind, they shook once. They nodded once. Their smiles were mirrors of each other. “Now,” said Pinkie matter-of-factly, “I think we’ve got a mission to complete.” She glanced over to the terracotta figures, all lost to the centuries. No more arguments. No more sadness and heartbreak. And no more of those shadow things. “You’ve figured it out?” said Rarity, and her tail turned purple at last. A boom rattled the cave; stalactites dropped down, the lake rippled, two of the terracotta figures fell over and shattered with a crash. The whirlwind died away at once. “I got a good idea!” Pinkie yanked her onto all four hooves and spun around. “Time to go!” “But Pinkie –” Screeches stabbed into their ears. At once, both of them leapt and stumbled into a gallop, shooting around the lake, feeling the blast front of dozens of bodies suddenly rushing behind them. Flickers of shadows snapped at their heels. Pinkie glanced back and saw burning blood staring at her over snapping obsidian fangs like knives of oil. Pinkie and Rarity almost bounced off the walls, bits of stone skittering among their hooves. You know what I’m gonna do when we get out of here? Pinkie stumbled, and then shock ran through her and she threw herself into a gallop again. I’m gonna make you the biggest, sweetest, most decoratedest cake you’ll ever see! Just for you! And for Sweetie Belle. And Maud. And anyone who wants a slice. What a lovely taste! That should be shared with everyone! “PINKIE!” Rarity yelled over the shrieks and the howls. “YEAH!?” “WHERE ARE WE GOING!?” The lake curled round, never stopping, never showing an inkling of a tunnel or an escape. Splashes behind them made her glance right; some of the more enterprising shadows slid through the lake, trying to cut them off instead of blindly following the curve round. Their bulbous snouts and glaring eyes protruded from the water, exactly like those of a crocodile. I don’t get it. This is a mind-messing place. Rarity’s over her issues. Why aren’t we outta here? Around them, the shadows squealed with delight. Three leapt out of the bank. Rarity charged forwards. A blur of white later, three thuds followed three splashes. Oh, why didn’t I figure this out sooner? Stupid, stupid Pinkie! All heart and no brain. Maud would’ve figured this out, I bet. She was always Granny Pie’s favourite! “PINKIE!” Two pairs of jaws widened around Rarity’s flailing tail. Pinkie lunged. The bodies shuddered and she yelped at the ache punching her side. Two more splashes followed before she hit the ground and galloped onwards. Oh, what have I done now? If only I wasn’t so slow, we wouldn’t be trapped down here! Why didn’t I notice stuff like this sooner? I could’ve done with it then! Something was happening, though. The harder she ran, the slower things got. Her strides didn’t seem to reach as far as she liked. When she yelped, her voice squeaked even higher. “RARITY!” she squealed. Her puffy mane began bouncing on her eyes. “MAUD! GRANNY! HELP!” “IT’S OK! JUST KEEP GOING! WE’LL FIND A WAY OUT SOON!” But she could tell Rarity was lying. All the grown-ups used to do that. She had the same panicky voice, the same expression pulling her face back as though trying to distance her from her own words. They were like that when Ma and Pa came out of Granny Pie’s bedroom one day… The lake ran on. They must’ve lapped it already, but there was no sign of the terracotta figures or of the chamber where they would’ve been. All that was left was a circular cavern, the spikes of the ceiling suddenly a lot closer now, the lake somehow much smaller. She could look across and see the other side. Even the centre of the lake dipped downwards as though some deep monster was sucking it all in. I don’t wanna be the hero! I don’t wanna see my friends get hurt! I just wanna play! My legs are all achey! Help me! Help me! Howls burst into eldritch chuckles. She could see the tips of the shadows looming around her vision, closing in on the view of Rarity galloping further and further ahead, the flash of fangs and the slow lick of a dozen tongues. Her legs burned. She wasn’t going to make it. She might as well just give up and get on with it. What was the point? She’d only slow Rarity down. “PINKIE!” Rarity skidded to a halt. “NO!” squeaked Pinkie. “DON’T STOP! GET OUT OF HERE!” Without a word, Rarity shot towards her, and suddenly her vision was full of whiteness. All twelve jaws opened wide. Tears blurred Pinkie’s face. The chamber dissolved into dark beige, swam into a swirl of shadows and light… Refocused on the face before her. Two dull eyelids peered down at her. A flat fringe with no features whatsoever flopped over two unreadable irises. An unsmiling mouth hung high, steady as a fissure in a boulder. Without a word, the apparition reached forwards and wiped her cheeks. Pinkamena felt the coolness of the hooves, but it was oddly satisfying, like a chilled fruit punch under a tropical sun. Her mind drew a card. “M… Maud!?” “It’s OK, Pinkie,” droned Maud. And now she remembered: Marble had hidden in her room and refused to come out; Limestone had forced herself to work in the fields, and hadn’t spoken to anybody, not even to shout at them; Ma and Pa had gone to town to find the priest and the funeral directors. The funeral… “Maud?” groaned Pinkie. “She’s not really gone you know,” droned Maud, but Pinkie recognized the subtle cadences and lute hidden in the monotone. “She said you’re a lot like her. Maybe you’ll be a Granny Pie too.” The filly Pinkie wiped her eyes on the back of her hoof and sniffed. “You mean… she reincarnated?” Maud shook her head. “No. She’s really dead.” “But… but I thought you said…” “I didn’t say she’s not dead. I said she’s not really gone. It’s like atoms in a crystal lattice. The atoms are never the same, but the lattice never changes. The crystal lasts forever. The atoms don’t.” Pinkie didn’t dare look around the hut, because if she did, that would prove she was really there, that all of this was really happening. “I don’t understand,” she whined. “You do. Crystals are nice. Granny Pie was nice. You’re nice, like Granny Pie is nice. I think if she was still with us, she’d be proud of you. You’ll be a very nice crystal, just like she was. I know. I’ve studied three hundred and sixty six different types of mineral. They’re all nice.” “But… But without Granny Pie…” Knots tightened inside Pinkie’s stomach. She fancied she saw a twinge cross Maud’s face, but part of her knew the face had not changed at all. She’s hurting too. I can just tell. Oh, Maud. Without hesitation, she reached up and wrapped her hooves around Maud’s neck. Maud did not react. Steady as a diamond statue. Maud eased a leg over and tightened it around Pinkie’s shoulders. It resisted the sobs breaking through. Pinkie snorted, and dribbles of snot ran down to her tensed lips. “See?” Maud patted her, slow and regular as an iron pendulum. “You don’t have to think about it like I do. You feel it, and you do it. Lots of ponies I met don’t do it. You’ll make a great Granny Pie. Trust me. Boulder agrees with me too.” “I’m so stupid…” “You’re not stupid. You’re nice. That’s more important than not being stupid, because if you're not nice, what's the good of not being stupid? Granny Pie said so. Remember?” “Oh, Maud…” “I’d like to meet your friends someday,” Maud droned on. “You’ll make lots of friends. Granny Pie said there’s nothing better than making new friends.” After a thoughtful pause, she added, “Except rocks.” “I’ll do it!” Pinkie squeezed harder. “I promise, promise, promise I’ll do it! I’ll be a nice crystal! You just wait! Granny Pie will be so happy, forever and ever!” Through the neck, she felt Maud open her jaw to correct her, but for once the jaw closed. Pinkie could never thank her enough for that. Then the solid presence of Maud vanished. Pinkie stumbled forwards, yelping in shock. The shadows drew back as she opened her eyes, and someone patted her forelimb. At once, Pinkie snatched at it. Before her, Rarity tugged her out of the shadow scrum, and she actually felt her own limbs lengthen, her hair rise out of her growing face, and Rarity’s navel pass her as she grew taller again. Both of them stumbled into a gallop. Rarity’s curls stuck out in odd places. There were scuff marks all over her coat. Bits of shadow clung to her shoes like splashes of ink. Yet still they ran on. Either side of them, the tunnels branched off their main one. Pinkie couldn’t see the lake, but she could see, past the crumbling granite on either side, the gemstones popping like balloons before the tunnels crashed and vanished behind plumes of dust. “Oh, well done, Pinkie!” yelled Rarity, and she shot a beaming smile over her shoulder. “I knew you could do it. Bravo!” Pinkie nodded, not trusting herself to speak in case more than words came out. Knew I could do what? Another tunnel collapsed beside them. Angry screams and howls followed them along the tunnel, something snapped, and she briefly felt a snag on her tail before a quick buck freed it. Behind her, the yelp was lost to the scream of shadows and the crash of chomping fangs. “PINKIE?!” yelled Rarity; the next tunnel collapsed loud enough to make even that sound like a thin whisper. Dust clouds burst past them, and only Pinkie’s memory stopped her from ramming straight into the wall. She felt grains and grit settle on her bared teeth and on the film of her eyelids. Stumbling, she wiped her face. And suddenly, it all seemed very stupid. Shadows shaped like crocodiles? Why not ponies, like the windigoes, or fish? Or sharks? Or just shapeless shadows? Why all the over-the-top twists and turns? What was this tunnel trying to prove? And that Trojan Horse’s Causeway? That Nightmare’s Tower? Talk about trying too hard! Titters broke through her panic; the stench was fading away, her nostrils cleansed by fresher breezes blowing in. She shook trying to hold back the giggles, but then she realized they’d put in a whole red mountain just to try and creep her out, and the laughter burst out of her mouth. She almost cried, they were just too much. Squeals of pain broke out behind her. Only a few ripples batted against her flanks; the more determined shadows didn’t bother with howls or rattles anymore. “PINKIE!? What’s so FUNNY!?” As Pinkie drew level with Rarity, gaining power and speed on the crest of the crashing laughter, snorts broke through her guffaws. “I was just thinking!” she yelled. “Hey, remember when we weren’t running away from some big horrible monster trying to do evil things to our minds? That’s like a Tuesday for us! Talk about laugh!” That did it. Explosions of mirth cracked her cheeks. She almost drifted into Rarity’s side, spluttering for a breath yet helpless against the tidal wave of laughs. Her mane flapped about her head. She could see Rarity staring in shock at her. But then Rarity’s lips twitched. She let out spits of chuckles. By the time Pinkie had to shut her eyes against the conquering screams of joy from her own mouth, Rarity could resist no more. The whole absurdity of laughing at the chase drew out chortles and very unladylike snorts. Screeches and yelps of pain were cut off behind them. The last of the ripples vanished. When they opened their eyes and shook out the worst of the tears, they saw the light pouring in. The bare walls of the tunnel rushed onwards, towards pure white scorching their futures. “Here we go!” squealed Rarity. “Huzzah! I knew we’d do it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! Oh, I’ve never felt so full of joie de vivre!” They rushed through the exit. And skidded to a halt, snapping out of their own laughter just in time to stop right at the lip of the mountain path. A pebble flew from under Rarity’s hoof and tumbled, shrinking, into the endless brightness of shining slopes a thousand feet below. To their right, the jutting road curled round the slope and further up the mountainside. To their left, the same road twisted round and began the long zigzag back down to the base of the range. All around them, the peaks of a dozen mountains gleamed like icing-topped sapphires under pure blue skies. Pinkie held her breath. Never had a load of chaotic rock formations seemed so spectacularly awe-inspiring. She could feel her own heart expanding, trying to take in all the rising love and wonder. “No time for gawking yet!” said Rarity. Pinkie followed her gaze. Behind them, the darkness of the tunnel was absolute. Then glints caught their eyes. Screeches echoed after them. A dozen red eyes opened. “This is where they lured us in with their songs!” said Pinkie. “Now what?” Rarity hit her chin with a hoof. “Oh my. Oh my, oh my, oh my! They just never stop!” The dots of red became burning lumps of coal. Fangs flashed. Pinkie looked up the mountain slope. Sheer rock face, as flat and uncompromising as the Nightmare’s Tower, only winter blue instead of summer red. Granny Pie had told her about the tower. It’s not that hard to stop, she’d said. No matter how tall and imposin’ it looks, a true rock farmer’s got nothin’ to fear, ‘cause…? The ghost of Granny Pie’s grin flitted across her face. “Rarity!” She pounced to the left of the tunnel. “RIGHT!” “But –” “Trust me on this one! Right!” As soon as Rarity galloped to the other side, both of them turned their haunches to the slope. Pinkie raised her back legs, balancing on her front ones. “On three!” she yelled; Rarity copied her stance, stumbled slightly. “One! Two! Three!” Pinkie’s hooves hit the rock so hard that she fell onto her muzzle. Groans broke out from her mouth. She cupped her front hooves to the stinging. The world around them rumbled. Thunder crashed over their heads. Just in time, Pinkie rolled out of the way. A shadow burst out of the darkness. Both red eyes bulged like the determined stare of an alligator. The last of the shadow fled the floating scaly body in the light. Rarity yelped and tripped backwards over a stone. Real teeth, real jaws stretched wide – Boulders crashed over the tunnel, smothering the beast with a yelp before stones and pebbles crashed and poured over the slope. Dust blew up, turning the world a hazy blue. Somewhere in there, Rarity coughed. When it cleared, the pile of rocks cut cleanly across the road. There was no sign of any life. Rarity poked her head over the slope. Blue dust clung to her mane. “P-Pinkie?” she yelled. Pinkie shook herself down. “I’m good! I’m good!” Coughing dust up, she waved up at Rarity, trying not to pant too hard. “I think you want to be on this side, though!” Despite all expectations, Rarity barely snorted for breath. Even her chest rose and fell with no particular strain. A slight chuckle escaped her lips. “Well…” she said, and the pant broke through. “That… was one… mother and father… of a… friendship problem.” Pinkie breathed out with relief. Her legs shook under the effort of keeping her standing. Both of them stood and panted while the sun arced onwards across the sky. Her face felt heavy with all the blood rushing to it. All four hooves sparked with twinges whenever they met the ground, raise and lower them thought she did. Any attempt at stepping forwards left her swaying towards one side. “That?” Pinkie coughed up more dust. “That was a friendship problem?” Still, she could see the ghost of Granny Pie, cackling and fading away. The Nightmare’s Tower couldn’t have been a coincidence. Granny Pie and Maud had told her stories about it: myths and legends in Granny’s case; interesting geological details in Maud’s. Granny Pie. Her heart hurt. Pinkie sniffed and wiped her muzzle, where the snot had hardened into crust. Nevertheless, the smile stayed burning bright. “The map had it all figured out.” Rarity peered up, and frowned at the blue stains on her mane. “Did you see all those terracotta figures? We would have been one of them if we’d let those monstrous things turn us against each other. And they’d have done it again and again and again. Do you see? The map saw it coming. We must have been sent there to stop friendship problems in the future. Oh my word, it all fits together now!” She reached up to bat the dust off, but Pinkie caught her foreleg in mid-rise. Gingerly, Rarity lowered it again. “Ah well,” she said gamely, and the way she said it conjured the ghost of Granny Pie, “there’s more to beauty than just looking good. But of course. And… I suppose it does give me a rather roguish and debonair appeal.” “Ha! Oh yeah. That too.” The silence of the mountains pressed in on them. Calm blue stone, the mild sea of the sunlit sky, the peace of the cool morning air: only a moment, but it lasted a lifetime. Together, they shuffled away from the pile of boulders. Neither of them spoke until the path twisted round for the first bend of the zigzag. “So…” Pinkie pouted her lips, and instead of shuffling she tried a few experimental bounces. “This is gonna make one heck of a story when we tell Maud and Sweetie Belle about it. Lookin’ forward to the sleepover when we get back?” “I’m looking forward to the pedicure of a lifetime when we get back.” Rarity blew at the dust on her mane. Oh typical Rarity. You just can’t leave it alone, can you? Rarity sighed at the road. “I need to talk to Sweetie Belle, though. I should… apologize for the way I treated her.” “Hey.” Pinkie settled back into a shuffle. “It’s OK. The important thing is we know what not to do next time. Granny Pie always said look forwards, never look back. Although sometimes she said always live in the moment, so depending on how you look at it –” “Oh my. You do go on, don’t you, Pinkie Pie?” They continued the long trek down the zigzag. Like a heavy saddlebag, the sun weighed on their bodies. Sweat sizzled under their forelimbs. Pinkie looked back to check her flanks, and saw the three balloons of her cutie mark pulsing. Opposite, Rarity’s three diamonds pulsed in perfect synchrony. She smiled. “I’m going to enjoy seeing what Sweetie Belle comes up with,” said Rarity, and warmth was baked into her voice. “I hope I can encourage her to share her gifts with everyone. Such talent really shouldn’t go to waste.” As though prompted by an afterthought, she added, “So long as she’s happy with it, of course.” Oh, you betcha. You were right, Maud. I never doubted you. “Huh,” she said cheerfully. “I guess we solved more than one friendship problem today. Singalong?” Rarity hesitated but then shrugged. “After that… beastly experience, I suppose it would steady my nerves.” They smiled at each other, and for a moment even the hot sun was no longer a burden. Echoes of the shadow’s howls faded away in their minds. It was all over. It was OK, it was OK… “Thanks,” murmured Rarity. “Yeah,” said Pinkie to the road. “Thanks to you too.” Both Pinkie and Rarity admired the sheen of sapphire along the mountain wall, and strode proudly round the next turning. Under the dark, hissing memory of tunnels, the plain, beautiful desolation of the mountain crinkled with a dozen carved smiles, almost like a room full of ponies. “So good,” they whispered with a sigh. On the way down, they sang “The Sun Will Always Shine In My Heart”. It turned out both their grannies had loved that one.