Twilight had stuck to the schedule. In some way, she owed it to her past self, and in any case she liked the idea of getting the inside scoop ahead of the others. She could be their tour guide tomorrow, broadening horizons and raising them to new heights.
So she couldn’t help but sigh when Rainbow Dash thumped the barrier and shouted over the crowd, “Come on, Lucky Seven!”
“Rainbow!” Twilight drew herself up through sheer habit. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
Beside her, Rainbow clenched the paper between ergot and hoof. “There’s nothing wrong with it. The worst that happens is I lose a little money. And it makes the camel races that much more exciting – Pump those legs, Lucky Seven! No! Don’t let him get past! Knock him down! Knock him down! – so what’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that it’s a waste of perfectly serviceable currency. I’m sure I’ve already explained the concept of opportunity costs, and hence – ahem – the need for a thorough cost-benefit analysis. Not to mention the psychological effects it has on –”
“NO! Don’t take it wide! Lucky Seven! Gallop! Gallop! GALLOP! Stop looking at me and gallop HARDER! Everyone’s OK with it over here. I might as well give it a go while I can. You know, explore a new culture? Understand and respect different ways of doing stuff?”
Twilight pretended she hadn’t heard fragments of her own speech there; she’d sent Rainbow Dash to sleep on the airship coming over. “Not that it matters at this stage, but I had more, well, cultural things in mind. Museums, literature, the theatre –”
“Twi, look who you’re talking to. Yes! Yes! Come on, Lucky Seven! Almost there! Second wind! Second wind! Blow right past him! So close! Push for it! PUSH! A few coins on Lucky Seven means a lot more to me than a few coins on What’s-His-Face’s Whatever-It’s-Called dancing show.”
“A few coins? That was twenty bits!”
“The odds are one to ninety nine against. The payoff’ll be… It’ll be… Well, it must be thousands!”
“One thousand, nine hundred, and eighty bits. And no, because probabilistically speaking, he’s going to lose.”
Rainbow glared at her. “Underdogs never lose. One racer comes on looking like he got dragged out of a rug store and with four left knees and his face all cross-eyed like he’s looking up his own nose… Everyone laughs at him, and he struggles a bit, but you know, you just know, deep down, that if there’s any justice in the world, he’ll rise up to the challenge, unlock his inner strength, and show the world what he can really –”
“He just came in twenty-sixth.”
Cheers and groans echoed about the stands. On the near part of the circuit, the camels trundled to a stop, chewing and glaring insolently at the crowd.
Rainbow gaped and sagged over the rail. “WHAT!? But… But how? There were only twenty five racers!”
Over the loudspeakers, a chipper commentator yelled, “And whoever bet on the random dog running out onto the track must really be laughing all the way to the bank now, folks! A surprise victory for Goldie the Kaftan Hound!”
A zebra nudged Twilight’s elbow. “She’s always doing that. Reckon it’s the rabbit that does it.”
“What rabbit?” yelled Rainbow. “This isn’t dog-racing! They’re camels.”
Twilight squinted; on the golden dog’s back, sitting on a little saddle and pulling at little reins, was a tiny white ball of fluff.
Beside her, Rainbow Dash made the sort of noises normally reserved for drowning mice. Shamefully, Twilight felt in her chest the flickering smugness; the words “I told you so” had a horribly tempting ring to them.
“What happened?” groaned Rainbow Dash.
“We've just explored a new culture,” said Twilight, unable to resist. “And understood and respected different ways of doing stuff.”
“OK,” said Rainbow Dash, straightening herself up again. “OK, you got me. I guess… it wasn’t… the best idea I’ve ever had.”
“There have been worse ones, I’ll grant you that. Well, time’s up. Wanna move on to the library next?”
Defeated, Rainbow shrugged and rose up on beating wings. “Sure. Why not?”
Yet whereas Twilight couldn’t get away fast enough from all the shouting and the cheering and the overwhelming musk of unwashed camel, she noticed Rainbow was turning against her own hovering wings as though trying to stop herself drifting away from the noise. Rainbow always wanted to be where the action was, albeit she usually achieved that much by doing it herself.
Part of Twilight – perhaps a remnant of her Canterlot days – had writhed under the weight of all the strangers. They didn’t look like cultural connoisseurs, unless fast food counted. Generally, they’d been unshaven and unkempt and didn’t look like the sort to appreciate anything more sophisticated than “There was an old donkey named Bad-Ass…”
To think: she’d assumed camel racing was basically the Wonderbolts Derby of Saddle Arabia. Except with no wings and plenty of humps and lots and lots of sand on the track.
They followed the corridor towards the exit, passing several stalls trying to sell falafel, samosas, dates, figs, exotic rice dishes, and – for some reason – cheese pizzas.
“Chin up,” said Twilight. “At least you got to see the grace and athleticism of a well-trained dromedary in action. You’d be amazed how many ponies never think of camels as fast runners.”
“I guess.” Rainbow flipped over and placed hooves behind head, sculling slightly higher than Twilight’s horn. “But that was twenty bits. Twenty! I could’ve gotten another curry with that.”
“Oh yeah. How was it?”
“Eh. Nowhere near spicy enough. So much for ‘Comes with its own fire extinguisher’.”
“Oh,” said Twilight, smirking. “Is that why steam was coming out of your ears –”
“You imagined that.”
“– and your face turned red as a tomato –”
“I was trying to see how long I could hold my breath.”
“– before you ran off to the little filly’s room with your mouth full?”
Upside-down, Rainbow shrugged. “Call of nature. Can’t ignore one of those.”
Twilight sighed. “Well, I’ll give you credit. At least you’re trying new things. And with gusto! That’s what being on vacation is all about.”
“I know you’re trying to cheer me up, but… that could’ve been a couple of thousand bits! I was this close.”
Despite the smirk fighting to stay on her face, Twilight collapsed inside. Long months watching Rainbow Dash racing and hoof-wrestling and demanding staring contests had taught her that Rainbow was to losing what vampires were to garlic.
The corridor forked up ahead. Twilight nodded and went down the left one. “Follow me.”
“Huh?” Rainbow zipped across to keep up. “But you said the library was that way.”
“I’m making a slight course correction. Trust me, you’ll love this.”
With the tone of one trying to spot the trick, Rainbow said, “Love what, exactly?”
Twilight cut off the giggles. “Oh, you’ll see!”
From the dim corridor, they emerged into blinding light. Then the daylight resolved into temples and sky. Spread out below them, golden as a field of maize, the steps and the plaza and the rows of ornamental pillars suggested gold had featured in the city’s ancestry. To their right, the library boasted columns and jagged engravings along its eaves, resembling nothing less than an ancient pegasine temple. Rich red clay of a true temple rose to their left, ebbing and flowing and interrupted only by windows like silhouettes of flame.
Towering over them all, the brass statue reared its lengthy snout to the midday sun. Twilight heard a gasp beside her. Even she had to tilt her head far back to catch the cold smile on the gigantic face overhead.
Rainbow Dash whistled. “Now that is a champ.”
“That’s the Colossus of Great Saddle.” Twilight licked her lips. A cape flowed down from the statue’s collar, plated barding expanded his chest, and carved hoof-shoes suggested each foot was standing on a half-sunken globe, as though conquering whole worlds was mere sport.
“Whoa,” said Rainbow.
“A colossus is the largest class of statue from the ancient world.” Even seeing Rainbow’s face shining as much as the brass, Twilight’s inner teacher slipped her a few notes. “The Saddle Arabians borrowed the practice from the Ancient Pegasus Empire.”
“I could fly right over that… Bet he was a heck of a fighter…”
“Great Saddle was a very important figure in Saddle Arabian history. In fact, the name Saddle Arabia actually derives from his –”
“Twilight?” Rainbow nudged her neck. “No offence, but you’re wrecking the moment.”
“Oh. Er. S-Sorry.”
Minotaurs, zebras, and ponies occasionally crossed the plaza below the shadow of the colossus. Some claimed benches and leaned their heads back to admire the mighty brass head. In some ways, Great Saddle was merely a squarer-faced alicorn, minus the horn and wings. He radiated royalty.
“You know,” said Twilight as though gently placing a hoof on a possible trapdoor, “Great Saddle was one of history’s greatest military leaders.”
“Military, huh? Like Commander Hurricane? Or General Firefly? What did he do?”
I knew you’d like it. Twilight sighed and stared, drinking in the details of the plated barding.
“Long ago, there used to be lots of tribes fighting amongst themselves. They were few and scattered, and no one trusted any of the others. They’d been fighting for as long as they could remember.”
“Huh. That sounds just like the Hearth’s Warming story.”
“Only here, Great Saddle had to stop the fighting on his own. He started off as a simple tribal pony, like his family, but thanks to his charm, skill, and tactical brilliance, he soon had all the tribes united under his name. For the first time, they enjoyed peace and prosperity, and the world entered the Golden Age of Civilization. A lot of our science and art in Equestria actually came from here, brought over by earth pony explorers and pegasus wanderers.”
Rainbow’s only contribution was: “Neat.”
Still, when Twilight glanced up to see her friend’s eyes unblinkingly trying to absorb everything – from the podium big enough for a school to the head big enough for a class – she imagined that this was what Pinkie Pie felt like all the time. The worm of Rainbow’s money worries had been swept away. She could almost feel the heat of Rainbow’s interest burning like a campfire.
“So…” A grin stretched across Rainbow’s face. “This place isn’t just a pretty face, then.”
“Oh no. Saddle Arabians had quite a dark and turbulent history of their own.”
“Lots of wars and things? Cool! Imagine what kinds of flyers they might have –” Rainbow glanced down at the plaza. “Hey, isn’t that Spike?”
Twilight frowned and followed her gaze. A purple dot shot across the plaza. Two zebras stopped to watch it pass, and three Saddle Arabians actually jumped out of its way and bowed respectfully. As it tackled the steps up to them, the green head spikes and wide eyes became obvious.
“Spike?” she said, stepping forwards uncertainly.
He tripped on the last step with a yelp.
“Spike!” Quickly, she levitated his front and righted him. A flash of light, and the summoned duster rid his scales of the dirt and sand before vanishing. Spike sneezed in the resultant cloud.
“Got… tell you… trouble…” Clutching his chest, he double up and almost fell forwards again.
“Whoa, Spike,” said Rainbow. “Are you crazy? It’s midday. You’ll cook yourself in this heat.”
Red blotches stained the scales of his cheeks and forehead, but Twilight knew that wasn’t the heat. A species capable of bathing in lava was not likely to be bothered by desert sunshine. No, all this panting and gasping was just because exercise was an embarrassing distant relative that he’d only visit out of duty. Besides, if baby dragons had puppy fat, then Spike was a bowling ball of the stuff.
“I’ve got some spring water.” She summoned the bottle from her saddlebag. The lid spun off. A snake of clear liquid slithered through the air and into the waiting mouth of Spike.
One satisfied gasp later, he wiped his forehead. “Wow, did I need that. My throat felt like sandpaper!”
“So what’s the big deal?” said Rainbow Dash.
Fresh panic startled him; his face jolted with it. “Twilight! Someone broke into your room!”
The words didn’t sink in straightaway. “What? My room?”
“I woke up and heard voices! I thought you guys had come back, but when I listened, it didn’t sound like anyone I knew. By the time I got through the door, they were gone. I never saw them.”
“Someone was in my room?” Twilight shivered. Despite the constant sunshine, a dark cloud passed through her mind. “No…”
“I checked everything on the inventory.”
“What was missing?” Please don’t let it be that. Let it be anything but that.
“The Guidebook! Everything was there except the Guidebook!”
Businesslike tones snatched up Twilight’s mouth while her brain staggered and made bubbling noises. “Did you tell anyone? The Watch? The hotel staff?”
Spike shook his head. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do! I panicked!”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I was only thinking of telling you right away, and I saw your schedule and tried to find you, only you weren’t following the schedule, so I had to ask around…”
While he ploughed on through his ramblings, Twilight wilted where she stood. The Guidebook. Celestia’s Guidebook. She’d trusted me with it…
Beside her, Rainbow sighed. “Phew! At least they only took a book. It could’ve been a heck of a lot worse.”
“This is no ordinary book!” Twilight ran a hoof through her mane as though trying to stroke herself calm again. “Oh, how could I have been so foolish? That book contains all Equestrians know about the secrets of Saddle Arabia. It was Lawmaker’s own work. There isn’t another book like it in the whole world!”
“What should we do?” said Spike.
“What else?” said Rainbow Dash, hitting hoof against ergot. “Go and look for it.” In an undertone, she added, “If it’s that important.”
“It was Celestia’s inheritance. She trusted me with it. How could this happen? I thought Saddle Arabia had solved its high-theft crime rate! It was supposed to be safe!”
I was supposed to keep it safe. I told Princess Celestia I wanted the best reference book on the subject. I knew she treasured it so much. I couldn’t believe my luck. I swore I’d protect it for her. I swore!
From two blocks over, something exploded.
One moment, Twilight was sinking in a swamp of her own horrified misery. Something smashed through the waters of her mind and threw her out. The next moment, her thoughts gasped for breath while the boom rattled the bits of stone across the plaza and the inhabitants screamed and whinnied and bellowed. Shapes galloped or stood stock still.
Smoke billowed up from the rooftops. They couldn't see where from.
“What was that?” cried Spike. He stood behind Twilight. Impressively, he'd moved so fast she hadn’t seen him, but she could now feel his claws gripping her flank.
“I’ll check.” Ripping through the air, Rainbow became a dot directly overhead, her blueness almost lost to the sky. Plaza citizens either backed away nervously or stepped closer to the smoke in morbid fascination.
Twilight saw two figures charge into the plaza.
Both trench coats flapped about them. Their heads hid under broad brims. Even from here, their dark sunglasses were unmistakeable.
Far behind them, a voice bellowed, “STOP! THIEF!”
Twilight’s face hardened. “Let’s go.”
Yet barely had she leaped a dozen steps when she noticed a moving blur to her right. She trotted down another few steps and spotted the blue uniform striding onto the plaza from the opposite side. One blonde ponytail undulated behind it.
“Why are we stopping?” Spike stumbled a few steps down and turned to her.
“Watch.”
If the figures had noticed the Watch Pony, they made no effort either to slow down or to speed up. They were already halfway across the plaza. Unfortunately for them, the Watch Pony was more attentive; her head locked on so fast that the ponytail whipped the air.
Twilight watched the Watch Pony… implode.
“Fascinating,” she whispered.
The resulting blue fireball streaked towards the pair like a comet. Both thieves skidded to a halt; the flames burst outwards and four wrapped hooves hit the tiles. The Watch Pony lowered her head. A horn sprouted. She fired.
Blue jets of flame whipped round. At once, both ponies shrank back before the curving blaze became a customized whirlwind of crackling and whooshing fire. The horn retracted.
“Whoa,” said Spike. “You weren’t kidding.”
Twilight smirked. “I told you, didn’t I? The Watch here is amazingly efficient.”
“What is that?” One claw pointed to the blue-clad figure.
“She’s a Djinni. They're fiery spirits made almost entirely of phlogiston. And they’re among the best taskmasters a mage could hope for.”
To her right, Rainbow landed with a crack of knees. “Someone blew a hole through one of those big buildings. And I mean big; that hole must be ten feet wide!”
“What building?”
“I dunno. It had spires and things.”
Twilight’s memory produced a map of the vicinity. “That must be the Paradise Museum. I wonder what they stole from there. The place contains all kinds of magical artefacts, but I never would’ve thought anyone would be so foolish as to try –”
“Look!” Spike pointed at the whirlwind.
Its side burst open with a bolt of lightning that fizzled against the flames and died instantly, but it was enough. One blazing bundle tumbled out of it. Startled, the Watch Pony leaped aside. Out of the burning flaps of fabric, and while sunglasses fell away and shattered, the vanilla yellow earth mare shot up and across the steps, making for the opposite corner. Most of her coat smoked around her and hung on grimly.
Twilight grinned. This looks like a job for a heroic bystander. Too easy.
She closed her eyes. She focused.
The flash cut through even her tightening eyelids. Below her hooves, the steps fell away and then felt like they came back again. A gasp and a burst of turbulence told her she was right in front of the would-be escapee.
Twilight opened her eyes.
Skidding to a halt, the earth mare leaned back so far she almost limboed beneath Twilight’s splayed legs. Vanilla fur gleamed with sweat like a wet and dirty dish towel. Bits of charred trench coat flapped underfoot. A mane still trailing wisps of smoke spiked the air. Eyes and mouth widened within the confines of a rounded face that had “wild youth” written all over it.
Uncertainty flickered in the earth mare’s eyes before it clouded over and she threw herself forwards.
And bounced off the inside of Twilight’s shield spell.
Twilight was sure it should have ended there and then. One bubble shield big enough to enclose a pony from scalp to hooves was nothing more strenuous to her than reaching across a table to tap someone on the shoulder. She’d made shields big enough for houses. What hadn’t occurred to her was that no one else was following her script.
Like the Watch Pony. Who cannoned into the back of the bubble.
Instantly, the Djinni's flames sparked off and washed across the shield’s surface, eating through it. A rush of sparks wiped the magic out like wine on a flambé roast. The fire shot up the invisible lines of force connecting the magic shield to the magic flowing through Twilight’s horn.
Spikes of agony stabbed into her head.
She yelped and cut off the magic. Someone’s hoof rammed into her chest. Her back hit the steps. She barely heard the gallop of hooves dying away.
“Oh no, you don’t!” Rainbow streaked past her, the turbulence snagging at fringe and tail as she went.
Thoughts swirled and ebbed and flowed. Forefront on Twilight's mind was the sharp digging of the step into her spine. Spike’s voice shouted her name over and over. Claws gripped her shoulder and shook her. The kick to her chest hadn’t been that hard, had it?
Twilight shook her head, and the benches of the plaza swam back into view. “Spike?”
“She got away!” He looked over to the Watch Pony rising from the ground. “Look!”
Behind said Watch Pony, the other thief burst through the already-fragmenting whirlwind of fire, blasting it into fading sparks and embers. Trench coat smoking, this one lowered her head, aimed her unicorn horn, and charged.
The unicorn thief almost rushed past them. Almost that is, except for Spike lunging forwards and embracing both of her rear legs.
“Oof!”
The thump was heavy. Twilight winced.
“I got her! I got her!” Spike yelled, bursting with pride and astonishment. “How about that, you no-good crook!? I got you!”
Twilight shook herself down. “Well done, Spike!”
“You see that? I was amazing! She was coming right at me, and I just went –”
The Watch Pony stamped over to them. She wasn’t smiling.
“I got her!” repeated Spike, on the assumption that the magnitude of his heroic spirit would sink in if he shouted about it enough. “You see that! Ha! No one gets away from me that easily!”
Twilight and Spike looked into the Watch Pony’s eyes.
Two Bunsen burner flames sizzled the air between them.
Twilight and Spike sagged slightly.
“You interfered with police business,” said the Watch Pony. She didn’t sound remotely ready to hand out medals.
Her unicorn-like horn sprouted. Tendrils of flame zipped across, wrapped around the groaning unicorn thief’s forelegs, coalesced into cuffs…
“Obstruction of civic duty is a serious crime.”
…and fired a second line of flames.
Twilight yelped as her forelegs snapped together. Cuff links jingled under her.
“No, wait!” she yelled. “I was only trying to assist you!”
“That’s not important. You are under arrest for practising vigilantism, assaulting an officer of the Watch, and subverting the cause of justice. You will come with me to Headquarters.”
Light dawned. Twilight groaned. Of course. How could I be so stupid? This isn’t Equestria anymore. The Watch here aren’t like the Royal Guard back home. Oh, why did I interfere? I should’ve let her perform her duty.
Spike leaped up and onto his feet. “Hey! You can’t arrest her! She was only trying to help!”
“Spike, don’t. You’ll only make it worse.”
The Watch Pony strode forwards and heaved the grumbling unicorn thief over her shoulder. Bits of blackened trench coat slipped off, revealing crimson fur. An amethyst the size of a pony head rattled onto the tiles. One brown book thumped next to it.
Twilight gasped. My book! The Guidebook!
The Watch Pony’s back rippled. One flaming blue wing stretched out and swept up the two dropped items. It folded, clutching both tightly to its side.
“You will come with me.” The Watch Pony jerked her head across the plaza. “Now.”
“Are you crazy!? You should be thanking her!” Spike leaped between them, arms extended like a shield.
“Spike, no! It’s OK. I understand. I’m sure we can all work this out if we treat each other respectfully and with tact –”
“She’s not going anywhere.” Spike jerked a clawed thumb over his shoulder. “Do you have any idea who this is? Do you?”
She groaned. Spike, for the love of Celestia, please don’t follow that up with –
“She’s a friend of Princess Celestia! She’s done more brave and awesome things than I’ll bet you’ve ever dreamed of! And she knows loads more magic than you ever will!”
Whip flames leaped across. Spike yelped as his clawed hands snapped together.
“Hey!”
“If you insist on subverting the course of justice,” snapped the Watch Pony, “then you will suffer the same fate. Now, let’s have less arguing and more cooperating, or I’ll knock you out and drag you the whole way.”
“Why, you –”
Twilight placed both cuffed hooves onto his shoulder. “Spike, stop that. Let’s not cause any more trouble, OK?”
“But she just said –”
“I know. It’s the rules. She’s only doing her job. Will you please do what I ask?”
“But –”
“It’ll be OK. Trust me.”
While the unicorn thief growled and flailed with her back legs, the Watch Pony jerked her head again to get them moving. Twilight felt the cuffs warm slightly; another whip flame shot up to her horn, wrapping it from tip to base. Crackling met her ears. Tickling sensations ran along her horn. No magic allowed, was the obvious message.
Spike waddled beside her while she tried a stepping hop. When it came to locomotion, the cuffs had certain drawbacks.
Robbed and arrested within twenty four hours of touchdown, Twilight thought with a groan. We’re definitely not in Equestria anymore, Spike.