How often can a pony say she’s been to the same jail twice in one day? Twilight thought, sitting in front of the main desk. Same filing cabinets, same crates, same dull sandstone walls. She swore the seat hadn’t even had time to cool.
Two Watch Ponies stood either side of the desk. Another two covered the corners behind her; she fancied their stares sizzled the back of her neck. Apart from their mane-styles and the colours of their eyes, they were copies of Blue Shift. Spontaneously, she wondered if they’d been commanded to adopt those guises to show uniformity.
Around the main desk, Rarity and Applejack paced. Neither of them seemed to know what to do with themselves. If nothing had changed since she’d last looked, then Fluttershy would be right behind her with Spike, patting him or simply holding him for comfort.
Twilight didn’t know what to say to them. After Blue Shift had dropped them off, Commander Zahir had listened to the Djinni’s account with wide eyes, clearly surprised to find someone like Twilight was a recidivist. He’d left half an hour ago, making smiles and reassuring sounds that didn’t match his nervous laughter or drooping ears.
What am I doing? Twilight rubbed her face with both hooves. I should’ve told the Watch the moment Pinkie and Matilda vanished. I know I’m not in Equestria. I should’ve stopped and thought. What’s wrong with me?
She didn’t believe her own thoughts. Part of her still saw the thief – the smirking unicorn – with Rainbow Dash’s sack over her shoulder. And the sight of Matilda and Pinkie Pie on the backs of those retreating Djinn in the alleyway. Even now, that part of her snorted at the idea of holding back. It wasn’t a duty. It was for her friends. She couldn’t have done any differently, she was sure of it.
Outside the window, the shadows of the buildings and crevices stretched.
“Arrgh!” Twilight rammed her hooves against her forehead. “How could I have been so stupid? If I’d just dropped Plan B, she wouldn’t have stood a chance! I actually had the Djinnestone, right there! I could’ve rescued Matilda and Pinkie instantly.”
“Don’t beat yourself up about it, Twilight.” Rarity reared up and placed her hooves and chin on the desk. “If we had been more careful, we might have helped you sooner.”
“Darn Djinn things ambushed us!” Applejack kicked the desk on the other side. Since the desk remained desk-shaped, this showed considerable self-restraint. “Ah should’ve pushed past ‘em instead of lettin’ ‘em distract me.”
All three of them turned to face Spike, half-hidden in Fluttershy’s embrace. Repeatedly, she stroked his green head spikes down.
“Uh…” said Applejack. “You holdin’ up OK, Spike?”
Spike stared at the floor. Or possibly he was staring at something wholly within his mind, and the eyes merely pointed downwards.
“Poor Rainbow Dash,” whispered Fluttershy. “She was always so brave and strong. How could this have happened to her?”
“Those two seemed a little too well-prepared for thieves,” said Twilight, trying to distract herself from images of struggling sacks. Besides, the thought had nibbled at the corners of her mind for a while, and now Fluttershy mentioned it… “Think about who they managed to kidnap. We’re talking about a pegasus who can handle several g-forces and an earth pony who can pull party cannons out of nowhere. They even had a lightning sceptre!”
“Maybe they wanted to be prepared,” said Rarity. “In case they ran into those Djinn, I mean.”
“I don't think it's just that. This is all wrong. This is not something two ponies could have organized all by themselves. The museum break-in alone would have required help. Anyway, why kidnap any of us? Once they got the Djinnestone and broke out of jail, they’d only want to escape, which they were clearly capable of doing.”
“What do you mean, Twilight?” said Applejack.
“Think about it: they only had to incapacitate us whenever we encountered them, which would’ve been easy to do once they had the Djinnestone. Taking hostages just drags in unwanted complications.”
“Those ruffians?” Rarity sniffed and turned her nose up. “They probably commit such atrocities for fun.”
On cue, Twilight’s imagination supplied the smirk of the thief. A snakelike expression like that could only come from a mind as dark as the blackest pit. That thief had looked capable of anything.
Spike looked up suddenly. “We’ll get them back, right? They can’t have gone too far. With everyone looking for them and knowing what they look like now, we’re sure to see Pinkie Pie and Rainbow Dash again, right?”
No one met his gaze. Applejack and Rarity exchanged glances, and even Fluttershy coughed behind a hoof while staring at the floor.
Twilight at least looked in his general direction, even though her gaze was a bit unfocused. “I don’t think it’s going to be straightforward, Spike.”
The door burst open. Commander Zahir stepped in. He went around Fluttershy and Spike without a glance. Moreover, he was keeping his expression carefully blank. Nonetheless, Twilight noticed tics and twitches around his mouth before he sat down behind the desk.
“What’s the news, Commander?” she said.
Zahir’s long snout whistled with each breath; he sounded like a stallion who’d reached the end of his gallop. “If nothing else, ladies… and gentledragon” – he nodded towards Spike – “rest assured that the Watch is doing all in its power to locate those criminals. Even as we speak, Djinn are operating throughout the city. We’ve summoned all available hooves for the task. I’m confident we’ll find them and return your friends to you.”
And still he refused to make eye contact. Twilight raised an eyebrow and cocked her head.
“What’s the bad news?” she said.
“You must understand. Due process is important for the disciplined functioning of the city. Our philosophy is strict adherence to principles –”
“Forgive me,” snapped Rarity, “but what is this leading to?”
Zahir’s face jerked back in surprise. “Madam, I must stress that my role in all this is merely that of the messenger –”
“We’re in trouble, ain’t we?” said Applejack.
Jitters ran through his legs; he fidgeted and touched his neck and scalp. “Well, in point of fact, and since you ask so bluntly: yes, yes I’m afraid you are. The property damage alone is horrendous.”
“But that wasn’t us!” shouted Spike; they turned to see him leap out of Fluttershy’s grip. “That was the thieves! We were trying to save the city!”
“Mister Dragon, please! I am not your enemy here!” Zahir wiped his brow. “Frankly, ladies… and gentledragon… this has gone beyond my hooves now. It’s all gone political. The Grand Vizier himself is coming from the Imperial Palace to speak with you.”
“Why?” snapped Applejack. “We’ve smashed up places loads of times tryin’ to get rid of whatever evil doodad’s or thingummyjig’s tryin’ to take over Equestria. Sometimes, you gotta be prepared to take risks. Don’t you get it? Them thieves would’ve flattened the whole city if we hadn’t stopped that giant statue.”
Zahir squirmed in his seat.
“Applejack,” said Twilight coolly. “He’s just doing his duty. Leave him alone.”
“Ah’m only sayin’.” Fortunately, Applejack stepped back and pressed her lips together tightly. Twilight recognized the signs of a flood being dammed back. In private, she thanked her over and over.
The hinges creaked again. As soon as Zahir looked up, his face blanched. He shot to his hooves, his chair clattering behind him. Around them, the Djinn immediately threw their chests and faces to the ground in an extravagant bow.
“O Grand Vizier!” said Zahir.
“Now, now,” said a smooth voice from the doorway. “No need for formalities. This is, after all, an unofficial visit.”
Twilight turned. The Grand Vizier too was a Saddle Arabian stallion, but whereas Zahir crouched slightly as though to hide his height, the Vizier almost swept the ceiling with his turban. His robes were black and swept the floor as he passed through. He seemed to glide across the ground.
Memory brought her the pages from the Guidebook. The Grand Vizier was supposed to be a kind of chief minister in the Imperial Palace. He would peer out across the city and hear the petitions of a hundred horses a day, sometimes turning them away, often passing on recommendations to the lower branches of government.
Viziers also had a reputation as dark as their robes. Twilight looked into his motionless black irises. They regarded her without any apparent emotion at all, suggesting merely that he was weighing the pros and cons of her presence. Flaring shoulders and a descending veil behind his head gave him a vaguely cobra-like outline. Even his smile slithered across his face.
In short, he looked like the dictionary image of “Machiavellian”. Twilight felt the urge to leap at him there and then.
Which is silly, she thought sharply. Looked at rationally and reasonably, he’s just another figure of government and a stallion doing his job. Those dark robes are part of the official dress. Even the title just means “Bearer of the Burden” in the Millenoctibus language.
The Grand Vizier inclined his head in a bow that barely surpassed a “nod” classification. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Twilight Sparkle, Bearer of the Element of Magic. And your fine and loyal friends, naturally.”
Feeling it was expected of her, Twilight descended from her chair and bowed back. “Likewise, Grand Vizier.”
“Please call me Grand Vizier Zahir the Supporter,” he said.
Inwardly, Twilight sighed. According to the Guidebook, the Saddle Arabians only ever used the Ninety Nine Names passed on through hallowed antiquity. In theory, it was out of respect for the ancients who had laid down and described the virtues in several holy books. In practice, it was just the done thing, not to mention a convenient timesaver for parents.
“Uh…” she said, wondering how tactfully she should make her case.
Another smile slithered across his face. “Please excuse me. What was I thinking? Of course, this being an unofficial visit, the manner of address is unimportant.”
Applejack scratched her chin with the back of her hoof. “Yet you’re still here for some political stuff, am Ah right?”
Dark eyes flicked up. “Ah, and you must be the Bearer of the Element of Honesty. I see I shall have to be especially careful. Yes, I’m afraid I speak for many in the Imperial Palace, not least of all His Majesty Himself. I am given to understand that the situation is grave: considerable property damage, disrespect for demarcation, neglect of civil protocol. And from the Bearers of the Elements, no less.”
He strode over to the desk. Despite Commander Zahir stepping aside at once, the Grand Vizier ignored the offered seat. Instead, he opted to address them from the side.
Exactly as he would before His Highness, Twilight thought. The Guidebook had been thorough.
“Oh dear,” moaned Fluttershy.
“Worse,” said the Grand Vizier, “I must inform you that many in the Imperial Palace are outraged and suspicious. They believe you are a symptom of arrogant presumption inherent in the Equestrian hegemony. Some have explicitly accused you of stirring up trouble.”
“But –” said Rarity beside him. When he threw back his robe and placed a gilded slipper on her shoulder, she shivered.
“My dear Rarity, Bearer of the Element of Generosity, I am on your side. I have had the pleasure of corresponding with Princess Celestia herself. I simply cannot imagine – based on your noble exploits – that you would commit these crimes with malice aforethought.”
Twilight shivered herself; seeing Rarity squirm in discomfort was like witnessing a disease. Yet the Guidebook nudged her brain. After all, Saddle Arabians had very different ideas of what was friendly touching behaviour and what was inappropriate. Many Equestrian diplomats throughout history had complained of how close to their faces the Saddle Arabian counterparts liked to stand.
Zahir coughed nervously.
“Of course,” said the Grand Vizier, sweeping past her; Rarity gasped with relief, “I am a servant of the law. By rights, you must be punished according to our statutes. However, I am willing to offer… mitigation. As a goodwill gesture between our countries.”
“You mean…” Fluttershy gulped as he swept closer. “You mean we’re… not going to be punished?”
“Alas, would that it were so simple…” The Grand Vizier paused and studied her face. “Ah, and you would be Fluttershy, the Bearer of the Element of Kindness?”
Flushing red in the heat of his stare, she drew her forelimbs up defensively. Her nod rubbed her mouth against the pasterns.
“We will certainly save the worst punishment for those thieves,” he said, daintily stepping around her as though she were a puddle. To the doorway, he continued, “Amnesty for you, however, is not an option.”
“Why all this dancin’ around the point, then?” said Applejack stiffly.
Because Princess Celestia wants unity. We can’t have it if they think we’re their enemies. Or worse, if they think we’re violent, ignorant vandals. At least enemies have a kind of respect for each other.
“My dear Applejack, we can hardly count ourselves as allies if we send our most valued citizens to trash each other’s cities.”
“Now hold on one cotton-pickin’ minute –”
“Applejack!” snapped Twilight. “Please!”
“But –”
“He’s not trying to make things hard for us. We’re in this together.” At least, I hope we are. I know it’s mostly cultural differences, but all the same…
“Well spoken, Miss Twilight Sparkle.” The Grand Vizier turned and bowed once more. “Rumours and slander help neither of us.”
“You believe it’ll get to that point?” Twilight held her breath.
“Such is the nature of politics. Today, you vanquished an evil foe in the name of protecting the city – albeit in a rather unwise but ultimately well-intentioned manner. Tomorrow, you were using these criminals’ exploits as an excuse to flaunt your flouting of Saddle Arabian law, typical of your Equestrian arrogance. And the day after – who knows? Given the depths to which rumour and slander will sink, some will claim you hired the thieves yourselves. Unless we can come to a compromise that pre-empts such suspicion, I fear the next few days will prove… inconvenient.”
Twilight let her breath out slowly, blowing over the flickering flames of anger. “That’s why we have to be punished.”
“Sadly, yes. I wish it were not so. Perhaps these criminals hold the key to a compromise. I would, of course, value the opinion of a Protégé of the Princess.”
She couldn’t stop staring at his eyes. They were two black holes, sucking in every word, every deed, every tiny spasm on her face. Reptilian patience, emotionless itself, basked in the emotions of others.
She wondered what the others were thinking. Spike alone hadn’t acknowledged anyone for a long time; he seemed to be removing himself from this room, from this country, possibly from this entire day. Rarity paced again. Fluttershy looked to Twilight as though begging for an answer.
She had to agree. She had to disagree. Celestia had a whole country to consider, but she also had Twilight. Why didn’t I go to the Watch to begin with? Why didn’t I just stay out of it? Is it really Equestrian arrogance living inside me? But how could it be? I was only thinking about my friends. I’d never dare suggest anyone here was beneath me…
“Nothing, Miss Twilight Sparkle?” said the Grand Vizier.
Around her, the Djinn watched her, various emotions flashing across their faces: surprise, confusion, hatred, pity, sadness, anger. Checking behind the desk, she saw Zahir still standing, now staring at the floor as though afraid of looking higher than anyone else.
The door burst open. They all turned to look.
Blue Shift strode across, forcing Fluttershy and Spike to scurry out of her way. “Commander! We have good news! We’ve identified the two fugitives!”
“Er…” Commander Zahir glanced at the Grand Vizier. “Who are they?”
Blue Shift stood to attention so sharply she vibrated before the desk. “Carmine and Vanilla, sir! This is not the first time they’ve been involved in artefact theft, nor the first time they’ve operated within Arabia Phoenix.”
“Oh.” Zahir coughed into his hoof. “Well done, Sergeant. I don’t suppose this could wait until –”
The Grand Vizier raised a hoof lazily. “Let her continue, Zahir.”
“As you wish, Your Excellency. Um… Sergeant?”
Blue Shift gave not the slightest acknowledgement to the politician’s presence throughout. At this prompting, she continued, “We’ve also sighted them, sir. Scouts spotted them travelling out into the Desert. Sir, they have a head start, but if we invoked Hot Pursuit, we should have a good chance of catching them.”
Hot Pursuit. Twilight thanked Celestia over and over for the Guidebook. She actually beamed with delight. In cases of criminals fleeing beyond a legal boundary, the local authorities could invoke Hot Pursuit and follow them to make an arrest. A lot of misunderstandings – mostly violent – had stopped after Hot Pursuit joined the statutes.
Of course, once they caught the criminal, the legal niceties really began.
“Sir, I could head out there right now.” For once, Blue Shift swelled with excitement and her voice rang with it. “They need to stop for refreshments. I don’t. They have to rely on legs. I don’t. We should have them back here within twenty four hours at the outset.”
“Oh, good.” Zahir’s chuckle sputtered and died. “That’s settled, then. As guardian of your lamp, I thus command you –”
The Grand Vizier coughed. Genteelly, true, and so quietly that one could pretend to have missed it, but it was a cough with official backing. Zahir sagged where he stood. Pity flickered in Twilight’s chest.
“One moment, Commander.” The Grand Vizier scanned the ponies around him. “A thought occurs to me.”
“What is it?” said Fluttershy; she shivered under his cool stare.
“Forgive an old stallion his bluntness, but I’m given to understand you fine mares have confronted various forms of evil before now. Quite a list of accomplishments, or so I hear.”
“YYYYeeeaah,” said Applejack. “What of it?”
But Twilight’s mind had already clicked into place. “You want us to go in after them.”
Silence followed.
He must be crazy! Blue Shift’s right. We have to eat and sleep too. Send her! She’ll save Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie, and Matilda. We’ll have our friends back. I don’t care what the Saddle Arabians do to us then.
Regardless, she took in Applejack’s defiant glare, Rarity’s worried brow, Fluttershy’s half-hidden grimace of fear, and Spike’s utterly numb staring as though he’d long since given up hope of understanding all the talk. Her heart bled. She wished she could see Pinkie Pie’s face again. Or hear Rainbow Dash’s loud speeches.
In Equestria, she’d have already disappeared over the horizon, hearing the thunder of all their hooves behind her. How she stretched for that chance, how she leaned forwards at the mere imagining of it.
But…
“Let me guess,” she said slowly, slotting each word into place. “This would be community service.”
The Grand Vizier waved a hoof airily, shaking his robe. “Of a sort. Dangerous pest control, shall we say?”
“Constructive punishment that acknowledges the needs of tradition?”
“Of course. And with your reputation for bravery and skill…”
Twilight wished he hadn’t said that, but the momentum of the idea forced her onwards. “I can imagine. Established heroes are surrounded by all kinds of good stories and trusted legends. The details don’t matter. The spirit of the quest is what matters.”
“Beautifully spoken. Not forgetting the emphasis on an alliance. The Arabia Phoenix Watch and the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, united against a common enemy. Yes, I believe they'll accept that. Retroactively speaking, of course. All manner of top secret missions come out in their own time, after all.”
Beside her, Applejack sucked in a shuddering breath and Rarity gasped with realization. Her own heartbeat flooded her with life again. She could see familiar ground again, as if she were seeing her Golden Oaks Library from afar.
Blue Shift was still standing to attention, but Twilight saw the shock petrified on her face.
Commander Zahir coughed. “Uh, Your Excellency?”
The Grand Vizier’s stare struck his white face. “Yes? What is it?”
“Uh… well, sir. That’s the Desert out there.”
A gulp came from Fluttershy upon hearing those tones. Twilight grimaced sympathetically. In some ways, her friend had near-prophetic powers.
“Oh no…” moaned Fluttershy. “You mean… you mean that big, hot, sandy, lifeless Desert? The one that covers half the country? And no one’s ever managed to cross it? Or come back?”
“Yes, sir! I agree, sir!” Blue Shift saluted and winced at her own thumped forehead. “It’s much too dangerous for ponies, sir! Let me handle it on my own, sir!”
“That is not your decision, slave.” The Grand Vizier towered over them. “However, we concede the point. The lands beyond Arabia Phoenix are not all as peaceful as this city. To venture forth into the depths of Saddle Arabia: that is not to be taken lightly.”
“We understand,” said Twilight.
Too right we understand. The Desert has over a thousand names, coined by so many tribes and during so many historical times that everyone just gives up and calls it the Desert. None of those names are nice. The best one is “the Teaching Desert”, and you don’t wanna know what it’s supposed to teach you.
She had to keep turning in her chair to address Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy, and Spike. “Well? I’m ready to go out there, but it comes down to what each of you want. You know this isn’t going to be easy.”
“Yeah…” said Spike vaguely.
“Pfft,” said Rarity. “Since when has it ever been easy? Of course we’re going.”
“You’re right,” said Fluttershy, standing grimly to attention. “I could never live with myself if I let you go out there on your own. Of course, so long as we’re protected, and well fed, and sheltered, and try and get this done as fast as we can –”
“Shoot, Twilight! Like you have to ask!” said Applejack, and she slapped Twilight across the withers. “Ha! You couldn’t stop me if you trussed me up and hung me off a tree.”
The three of them waited.
“Spike?” said Twilight. She took a step towards him.
Please say something.
He wiped his nose and sniffed. “I’m coming. Of course I’m coming! Maybe… Maybe I could come in handy, or… or I could send messages to Celestia. She and the Guidebook could help us, and… and…”
And you don’t want us to think you’re no good at anything. But we don’t think that. We don’t.
Treacherously, her mind showed her Spike tumbling across the plaza. In any case, dragon or not, he was still a baby, and still her ward.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she said.
The look he shot at her made her wish she’d kept her mouth shut.
“We’re friends forever,” he said stoutly, puffing up his chest. “Rainbow and Pinkie need our help. What else am I going to do?”
Wisely, she let it end there and turned to the Grand Vizier. “What about our things? They’re in the Felix Hotel.”
“We shall, of course, clear your rooms and hold your property for safekeeping. My assistants can prepare the camels and provisions for your safe journey.”
His gaze flicked towards Blue Shift, who spun around in the silence and caught it.
She backed into the desk. “Oh no! You’re not saddling me with these barnacles! Sir!” Desperately, she spun round to Zahir, who groaned. “Sir, you can’t be serious! This is a stunt, nothing more. The efficiency of the Arabia Phoenix Watch is paramount!”
Around them, the other Djinn sniggered. Zahir didn’t look anywhere but at the nearest filing cabinet, which he opened and from which he removed the brass lamp. He extended the leg towards Twilight.
“Very well,” he said in a calm voice. “Since Djinn can’t venture far from their lamps, as Commander of the Watch I entrust you and your party with Sergeant Blue Shift’s ‘anchor’.”
“What!?” spluttered Blue Shift. “But-But sir, the proximity range is generous enough! I could be after those criminals right now! All these camels and provisions will take ages! They’re timewasters! This whole stunt will subvert the cause of justice!”
“Sergeant! Hold your tongue!”
Mid-rant, Blue Shift’s mouth shook. She squeaked with the effort, but the lamp was in his hoof. One frustrated growl later, she subsided into a mutinous slump.
Twilight levitated the lamp from him. As she did so, a fiery glint caught her eye; Blue Shift’s face glowed as though about to burst into flame. She shook as though rumbling with volcanic-scale hatred for Twilight. Her glare darted from lamp to face as though she longed to scorch both of them with a flare and then burn them into ashes and then scatter the ashes in a hurricane and finally spit at them.
I’m sorry, Twilight thought. She levitated the lamp by its handle, trying to connect as little of herself to it as possible.
“Very well,” said the Grand Vizier, “it appears we have our compromise. Excellent news. And a quest across the dunes of Saddle Arabia into the bargain. I feel most privileged for having witnessed it.”
Cultural differences or not, Twilight fancied she heard a hint of delight that time. A delight with fangs in it.
To her shock, the memory of Cranky Doodle Donkey rose up in her head. She hadn’t thought about him the whole time. Matilda, yes, but her name had disappeared from memory just as quickly as it had arrived, and even then she’d eclipsed it with Rainbow’s and Pinkie’s.
“Of course,” said the Grand Vizier more stoically, “so long as one representative of each nation is present – and who could ask for better than Miss Twilight Sparkle and our… noble officer of the law…”
Blue Shift sniffed in a manner that put even Rarity’s snootiest snorts to shame.
“…then it seems to me we need not worry about the composition of the rest of the party. How convenient.”
I have to ask him. It wasn’t a thought. It wasn’t even a certainty; certainties could be wrong. But he had travelled, hadn’t he? He at least deserved a choice.
While the patrons of the hotel went back and forth or stood about, Cranky sat on a chair in the main lobby. Every now and again, he glanced up at the door.
What’s taking them so long?
He didn’t want to go to his room. If he stepped through that door and saw anything – Matilda’s dresses, her half of the bed, her towel scrunched up in the corner where she’d dumped it and hadn’t bothered picking it up again – well, he didn’t know what he’d do.
Overhead, the chandelier glittered. Funny: it almost looked like the one he’d seen at the Gala. Matilda had laughed at the gaudiness and said someone was compensating for something. At the time, he’d had no idea what she meant.
He glanced up at the stairs. He tried to glance down the corridor to his room, but his chair was on the wrong side of the lobby for that. Instead, he glanced at the receptionist behind the desk.
In the mirror beyond, he saw a tired old hack sitting in a chair. Grudgingly, he had to admit the hack’s toupee looked like it’d been stolen from a golden retriever’s back end. Knees stood out like doorknobs through a lazily hung-up coat.
Huh. Story of my life. There’s Cranky. Anything nice happening to him? Yes? Then let’s give him a kick. Ten points if his hair falls off.
Only last night, he’d agreed with Matilda as she’d gone on about the romance of Saddle Arabia. How close they were to the Desert with its mysteries. She’d loved the painting in their room: a train of camels crossing a shadowy dune at sunset.
Now? He didn’t really get it. The Desert was just an oversized beach with no water: the worst kind of beach. He’d seen camels when he’d last been here. The walking shag carpets smelled like chemical plants, and frankly gurgled like them too.
I should’ve asked her what she meant. Oh, Matilda…
Twilight came in through the entrance. At once, he shot to his feet.
“What’s going on?” he said.
To his surprise, Twilight almost leaped a foot into the air. “What? Huh?”
“The plan! You said you had a plan!” You sent me back here, you jerk! Do you know what’s it like waiting around, feeling useless, doing jack!?
Fear pulled her face back until she stumbled away from him. “It didn’t work! But we tried our best! Listen to me –”
“Listen to you!?” Even Cranky wondered where this rage was shooting from. A moment ago, he’d barely considered getting out of his chair. “I’ve been dying of worry here! I’ve waited my whole life to see Matilda again! You were supposed to be the best! You’re heroes, for crying out loud! And now you’re telling me your plan didn’t work!?”
“Please!” Twilight’s face paled. “There’s a chance we can get her back!”
Twilight’s leg was raised as if to bolt. Her ears drooped.
Cranky realized a group of minotaurs were staring at him. A cough from the receptionist broke through. His shooting rage stopped like a geyser finishing his blast.
“Er… S-Sorry,” he said. “Don’t mind us.”
After a while, the staring citizens turned away, muttering about Equestrian self-restraint, or lack of it. Both he and Twilight relaxed.
“What’s your plan, then?” he said gruffly. “This time?”
Twilight took a few deep breaths; evidently, she wasn’t quite prepared to believe he was over his shouting stage. “OK. I’ll give you the abridged version of events. Politics are involved. The criminals escaped into the Desert. We’re going after them.”
“What, now?”
“Tomorrow morning. We’re getting provisions.”
“From who? Politicals?”
Minotaurs chuckled near Twilight. She cast them a suspicious glower, then raised a conspiratorial hoof. Cranky raised a long ear and leaned closer.
“The Grand Vizier himself is involved. It’s all about the alliance between Equestria and Saddle Arabia.”
Cranky frowned. Romantic myths and legends notwithstanding, he remembered Saddle Arabia as a no-nonsense place. Daring quests across the Desert – with official backing, no less – were about as likely here as Hearth’s Warming with snow.
“So… what?” he said. “You went and asked him?”
Twilight rubbed the back of her neck. “Not… exactly.”
“What do you mean ‘not exactly’? Either you did or you didn’t.”
“Look, he got involved after… the, um…”
“That fireworks display across the city? I figured you lot had something to do with it. Hold on, let me guess: you failed. And old Vizier himself came to say, ‘Are you nuts? Get after those crooks and do it properly this time’?”
He wished he wasn’t enjoying this. Twilight squirmed so much she might have been trying to wiggle out of her own skin. But Pinkie’s gaff in inviting them still ached in his head, and the rage had left droplets of irritation.
“We’re going after them,” she said as though he hadn’t spoken. “My friends and I are setting off as soon as we can, but it’ll take a few hours before our supplies are ready. Everything’s taken care of.”
“Huh. Pinkie always said you were the organized one.”
Twilight coughed into her hoof; he recognized the Canterlot body language and smirked. “Oh. Did she?”
“Then again, didn’t you go to some upmarket school in Canterlot? Bet you learned everything there was to know about Saddle Arabia’s Desert in that nice, cool classroom, eh?”
“That’s not important. The point is that –”
“Have you ever tried crossing the Desert?” Cranky snapped.
At the reception desk, a bell tinkled. It sounded awfully loud in this prolonged pause.
“No?” said Twilight.
“Well, I have. I crossed it years ago getting to the next city. I hope you know how to follow the stars at night, or how to get water from your… well, I’ll spare you that little detail, but then you gotta know how to put up a tent and stop the camels spitting in your eye…”
Because if you don’t know how to cross it, you’re wasting my time. I’m not putting up with timewasters if it means going another day without Matilda. Equestria didn’t stop me looking for her, and you sure as sugar won’t either.
Twilight leaned back. Then she glowered. His own anger reflected back at him from that young face.
“Mister Cranky Doodle Donkey,” she said sharply. “I know what I’m doing. The girls and I are going. Spike is going. We’re not fools. Yes, I’ve studied it rather than lived it, but a suitably educated mind is no hindrance.”
Only then did Cranky feel it. The realization hit him. Of course, academically, he was aware of it and had been, but seeing those eyes…
“All right,” he muttered. “Take it easy, kid.”
“I’m going after my friends, whatever you say.”
I know, kid. I’m sorry. I mean it. I can’t tell you what to do about your friends. It’s not my place. You’re worried too, I’ll bet.
Pride locked those words away. Instead, he said, “I’m coming too.”
“And on the subject of going, I would like to ask you –”
Twilight was suddenly no longer stiff. A light flicked on behind her eyes. Cranky could almost hear the click.
“Come again?” she said.
“What do you think, kid? That you’re gonna leave me behind again like some worn-out coat? Forget that. I’m coming too. I want to make sure you do it right this time.”
Cranky waited until she stopped blinking.
“What? Thinking up some academic reason why I shouldn’t?”
“No! Of course not. I mean, I was going to ask… Oh, never mind. Look, if all goes well, we won’t be out in the Desert for long. We’ve got a Djinni with us.”
Despite himself, Cranky was impressed. “Someone actually gave you a Djinni?”
Twilight nodded, tight-lipped, narrow-eyed. “That’s how serious this is getting.”
“Boy, you must have hypnotized them to get a Djinni off their hooves. Those things don’t come cheap.”
“It didn’t. Trust me on this.”
They cleared their throats. They looked up at the chandelier.
“OK, then… Um… All righty, then,” said Twilight.
“Yeah,” said Cranky.
“I’m glad that’s all… settled. Yes.”
“You said it, kid.”
The lights of the chandelier twinkled. Ah, now it looks exactly like the one at the Gala. Maybe there’s still time to book tickets for the next one. We could pick up where we left off. Goodness knows I’d love to be young again.
He watched Twilight, who looked around as though she’d lost something. Well, I’ll say this much: least this time, I’ve got a heck of a magic-caster on my side. The number of times I could’ve done with one of them out in the wilder parts of Equestria. That chimæra alone wouldn’t have stood a chance, and let’s not get into the stuff with the Amaponian tribes.
She was shaking.
Now that he thought about it, he had virtually no idea what Twilight Sparkle actually was. There’d been some talk about how she’d learned magic from the Princess Celestia herself, and something about a moon in a nightmare – he wasn’t sure he’d remembered right, or had cared much at the time – but who she actually was? Not a clue. Since Pinkie Pie had singled her out for special mention, he figured she’d been some hyperactive nutcase too.
In fact, he’d largely suspected everyone in Ponyville of being nutcases. To whit: on his first day there he had stumbled upon them giving a musical number in the street. Not even rehearsing for a show. Just… singing. Goodness knew where the music had been coming from; he’d seen no musicians.
But now she looked like nothing but a lost kid in a mall.
Last night, she’d droned on about tickets and bookings and emergency regulations – correcting the steward who’d started lecturing them – and organizing everything short of the in-flight meal. And even then, she’d probably booked those too.
With that ruler-straight manestyle, she looked the sort who didn’t like things to be out of line. She’d smiled so often yesterday.
Cranky sighed. Not for the first time, he thought Matilda had a point: he was living up to his name. Old jackass that he was.
“All right, kid,” he said. “I’m coming. Now what do we do?”
Grasping at this conversational lifeline, she surged forwards. “Oh, we’re preparing the camels outside at the moment. Provided organizational efficiency is maintained, we should be out in the Desert within a matter of hours.”
“Hm. It’ll be nightfall soon, you know.”
“The sooner we leave, the better.”
“I meant it’ll be freezing brass monkeys out there.”
She stared at him blankly. Oh, that’s right. I forget. They only say that in the Frozen North and nearby, not in Canterlot.
“Figure of speech, kid. Guess they skipped that class in Canterlot.”
“Right. Um. Anyway, it should be just the five of us. I’m nominally in charge, and thus at liberty to select my own party members. However, I do want to stress that’s only in a technical sense. I say that actual authority will be determined by the decisions of the group as a whole…”
Am I doing the right thing, going with this nutcase? I don’t care if she uses slide rules and calendars instead of parties; she smells crazy.
Quit yapping, kid. Every second we waste is a second Matilda’s getting away from us.
Oh, Matilda. For the love of Celestia, tell me I’m going to see her again! Tell me this kid and her crazy friends are going to even the odds for me. I don’t want a rematch with a chimæra. I sure as heck don’t want to end up running away from a load of tribal spears.
“…enough provisions for a week.” Twilight cleared her throat, and her expression softened. “Don’t worry. We’ll get Matilda back, I promise.”
“Huh. Pinkie Promise, is it?”
“A Twilight Promise.”
Now it was Cranky’s turn to avert his gaze. Last time his eyes had hurt so much, he’d tried staring at the sun for a bet. Then again, he’d been kind of a stupid kid.
“All right,” he said, “but I’m holding you to that.”
Thanks, kid. Whatever happens, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I really mean it. If we get out of this in one piece, I’m personally gonna start calling you Princess.
“So…” He looked at his reflection in the mirror, and saw Twilight do the same. “Anything I can do?”
“Come outside with us. I’m sure we could find something. Those camels alone might be tricky.”
“Yeah? Well, the trick is that camels only spit to get a reaction. If you ignore it and put up with the occasional kick, they’re pretty much gonna lose interest. Now riding ‘em’s trickier, but that’s where the stick comes in…”
Twilight and Cranky ambled towards the exit, to the darkening streets and to the dying blaze of the skies of Arabia Phoenix. Descending to ashes. Awaiting rebirth.