Lyra couldn't shake the feeling that she was trespassing. While her life had been filled with an unhealthy amount of literal trespassing, this was the first time she felt unsettled by the notion. It was as if she'd stepped hoof on hallowed ground without express permission from its guardian.
Maybe that's the point, Lyra thought.
She found herself wilting under Igneous Rock's suspicious gaze. Lyra knew she looked like a stuck-up city pony, even though she'd spent time doing manual labor. Lyra seemed predisposed to give an aura of smugness, even though this wasn't at all a prominent personality trait. It was a side effect of living in Canterlot.
Perhaps for his shy daughter's sake, Igneous Rock merely gave Lyra a penetrating once-over before allowing her into the house. While this might have seemed a gesture of acceptance, his eyes didn't leave Lyra as she stepped inside. He watched her as if expecting her to commit some heinous offense upon being allowed over the threshold.
Cloudy Quartz was slightly more pleasant than her husband in regards to their unexpected guest. She was more concerned with Marble's safe return to the farm than she was with the mysterious pony Marble had brought with her. Lyra preferred being ignored over being watched like some kind of specimen.
However, nothing could compare to Limestone Pie's reaction.
“Who in Celestia's name are you?” she demanded.
The question was even more abrupt and rude when combined with Limestone's angry stare. Limestone was eying Lyra as if she'd had kidnapped Marble and held her hostage.
“Lyra,” said Lyra simply.
She offered no further explanation, even as Limestone's eyes burned into hers.
“Well, who in Tartarus said you could stay here?” Limestone said.
She was staring at the shabby secondhand bag filled with Lyra's meager possessions. The bag contained the bits Lyra had made on the cherry farm, a hoof-knitted quilt and a slice of cherry pie from Cherry Jubilee, a book from Trouble Shoes, and a deck of cards from Hard Luck. Cherry Jubilee hadn't been thrilled to lose two of her workers, but she'd been understanding and had wished them both the best of luck.
Marble turned away from her mother. She swallowed hard, her cheeks burning.
“I-I did,” she said.
Limestone's eyes moved sharply from Lyra to Marble, then back to Lyra. She clearly wanted to say something insulting, but her sister's sudden boldness had caught her off guard.
Igneous jumped in to defuse the situation, although he appeared reluctant. His old-fashioned views on hospitality seemed to be battling it out with his distaste of city ponies. Igneous forced a smile that portrayed the barest minimum of tolerance he was expected to offer.
“We'd be happy to let you stay for as long as you want,” he said. “You can use Pinkie Pie's old bedroom.”
He spoke as if Lyra should be offering him the moon in return. His tone of voice made it clear that if Lyra stepped out of line—not that she knew where the lines had been drawn—she was out on her flank.
“Thanks,” said Lyra sweetly.
Despite everything, she was sincere.
There were three bedrooms on the second floor. The first was occupied by Igneous Rock and Cloudy Quartz. The door was ajar. Lyra peeked in as they passed and noticed that Igneous and Cloudy apparently slept in separate beds. The second belonged to Limestone and Marble. Strangely, the sisters apparently shared a bed even though their parents did not. Marble led Lyra to the third and final bedroom, the one that had once belonged to Pinkamena Diane Pie.
According to the photographs on the walls, there were four Pie sisters. Two of them had moved out sometime in recent years. Lyra wondered if the set-up had been two per bedroom or if Pinkie had been gifted with her own room for whatever reason. Lyra had never had any siblings, but she imagined it must be nice to have an older sibling close at hoof after a nightmare.
Pinkie Pie's bedroom had been turned into a storage area, but it clearly functioned as a bedroom. Lyra and Marble had to step past several overflowing boxes to reach the bed. There were photographs all over the walls, mostly of the family or Pinkie Pie celebrating various accomplishments. Even though nopony had used the room in years, Lyra detected the faint scent of cotton candy.
“Do you see your sisters often?” Lyra asked.
Marble shook her head.
“Usually only on Hearth's Warming,” she said.
Lyra tried to recall her last Hearth's Warming. All she could remember was getting drunk out of her mind and peeing all over her rug. She imagined it must be normal for other families, but Lyra had no memories of falling asleep in front of a fireplace or drinking hot cocoa while being read to from a book of Hearth's Warming fables. Lyra could not remember a single Hearth's Warming that had involved caroling or anything remotely celebratory, other than opening presents and weakly thanking her parents for another book of spells.
Lyra opened the room's only window. She shuddered as a cold breeze wafted across her fur. Fall seemed to be drawing to a close and winter was poised to set in. Time had been largely irrelevant over the past few months, but now Lyra was forced to accept that a very long year was drawing to a close.
Marble quietly slipped out of the room, leaving Lyra to her thoughts.
Lyra drifted off to sleep easy enough, but she found her slumber troubled. She kept waking up, her brain alerting her to some disturbance. But despite the urgency with which her mind roused her, Lyra would lie in bed and hear nothing to suggest anything amiss.
At one point, Lyra awoke in a state of horror. She was utterly convinced that somepony was in the room with her. However, after frantically stabbing at the gas lamp with her hoof, the room flooded with light and Lyra realized she was alone.
This final incident marked an end to Lyra attempting to sleep. While she was reassured by the sight of the vacant bedroom, Lyra could not will herself back into dreamland. She instead jumped out of bed and grabbed the gas lamp. Lyra departed the bedroom in somewhat of a hurry, leaving the door open behind her.
She peeked into Marble and Limestone's bedroom first. The two sisters were sleeping peacefully, each tucked into their own side of the bed. The same seemed to be true of Igneous and Cloudy. Lyra could only make out two lumps that she assumed were their sleeping forms buried underneath their covers.
The living room and kitchen were empty. Lyra tried the front door and found all the locks to be in place. There were no broken windows or similar indications of a break-in. The eerie silence reminded Lyra of what had happened with Moondancer, but nothing in the house seemed to be missing.
Lyra lowered the gas lamp and sighed. She detested her own paranoia. She couldn't believe what had clearly been the aftermath of a nightmare had caused her such panic. Would Lyra ever feel entirely safe? Would she ever shake this overwhelming sensation of being watched, followed, and prosecuted?
She returned to her bedroom. Now that her little adventure was over, she felt it was time to get some sleep.
I'm safe here, Lyra thought. Nopony whose after me could possibly know...
Lyra stopped in the doorway. She sensed that something was out of place. Uneasy, Lyra's gaze swept the empty bedroom. Everything appeared to be in order. The boxes were undisturbed, the window was firmly shut and latched, the dresser and bed maintained their correct placement. But even as her eyes told her differently, Lyra was convinced something had changed in the time she'd been away.
It was just a stupid nightmare, Lyra told herself.
She got into bed and returned the lamp to her bedside table, her hoof lingering on it for a moment. The idea of her room being invaded—as improbable as it was—made her want to take her chances with the darkness outside. But if she fled this place, where would she go? Back to Dodge City?
Lyra laid her head on the pillow and closed her eyes.
Just a stupid nightmare, she thought.
She frowned. Her pillow felt more uncomfortable than before. Annoyed, Lyra lifted her head and gave the pillow a swift whack with her hoof. Her hoof sank into the soft surface and touched something solid. It felt as if Limestone had left a present—most likely a rock—for her. She lifted the pillow, wondering if throwing said rock at Limestone's face would be an appropriate response.
But the object under the pillow wasn't a rock. It was a book. A very old but well-maintained paperback with an illegible name scrawled on the cover. It was a first edition of The Wizard of Canterlot.
Lyra was thunderstruck. It wasn't her copy of The Wizard of Canterlot—she would have never defaced her favorite book—but the sight of it stunned her. There was nothing supernatural or astounding about the book, yet it had appeared in her life again without warning.
After a few minutes of staring in numb surprise, Lyra flipped the book open to a random page. The moment she did, her shock turned to confusion. She was looking at a page filled with elegant and cramped hoofwriting she did not recognize.
Lyra started flipping through the book. She saw more writing and some bemusing diagrams, but the book's actual contents were absent. It seemed to be a notebook upon which the back and front cover had been replaced for some unknown purpose.
A disappointed Lyra almost shut the book, but she instead began to read the first page. Her interest was immediately piqued. It appeared that the notebook's mysterious owner had been studying obscure types of magic, particularly “old magic”.
Lyra suddenly thought of the book Twilight Sparkle had shown her. Her heartbeat increased as she realized that this notebook might be the next best thing. But how had it gotten into the bedroom? Everything about the notebook—its sudden appearance, the strange choice of deception—made her uneasy.
The only thing Lyra knew for sure was that somepony had been in her bedroom.
The Pie family kept simple schedules. The tedium of their daily lives was so deeply programmed that they hardly noticed Lyra's existence. She existed somewhere outside of their routines, therefore she was consistently overlooked. This worked in Lyra's favor. The implication that Igneous Rock disliked her had evolved into an undeniable fact.
The notebook was a fascinating read. It was like a condensed and unedited version of Lyra's old university-issued spellbook. Although there were comments dotted throughout, it was more of a textbook than a journal.
Lyra noticed one ritual in particular was mentioned more than once: “The Cracked Mirror Ritual”. The ritual was never detailed, but it seemed to be of great interest to the writer.
A week after Lyra's discovery of the notebook, Marble Pie began to have nightmares again. Lyra was in bed fast asleep when the first one occurred. She almost fell out of bed when Marble started screaming. It took several moments for Lyra to get her wits back, by which time the house had come alive with shouting and hoofsteps.
Confused and scared, Lyra jumped out of bed and sprinted into the Pie sisters' bedroom.
The scene was unfortunately familiar: two ponies standing next to a bed while a third thrashed around and screamed. Cloudy Quartz was standing with her hooves on the edge of the bed. She was whispering tenderly, her voice lost in Marble's agonized screams.
Lyra wanted to rush in, but she instead stood in the doorway and waited for the Pies to handle the situation.
Limestone shoved Lyra out of the way. She was balancing a saucer and a cup of tea on her head.
“Move it!” she said.
Igneous Rock turned to look at the sound of Limestone's voice. Igneous hadn't noticed Lyra before, but now a pair of stern eyes focused on her. He looked accusing, as if he blamed Lyra for his daughter's troubles. Lyra would have defended herself, but she Igneous's severe gaze rendered her speechless.
Limestone placed the tea on the night stand.
“How is she?” she asked.
That seemed a very silly question, as Marble was still thrashing around and screaming. Nevertheless, Igneous answered.
“She should be through the worst of it,” he said. “No use waking her up.”
Marble's screaming had turned into coherent words. Her parents and sister seemed to be ignoring them, but Lyra absorbed every one like a kick to the flank.
“You don't have to!” Marble was screaming. “Look at their eyes! Their eyes!”
Lyra recalled a line from The Wizard of Canterlot. It was in the middle of the book, after the wizard had started his journey but before he met the Wise Witch and started following her sage advice.
“How curious! The wizard was quite amazed by what he was seeing. For upon eating the berries, their eyes had turned the most delightful shade of red. “Their eyes!” the foals cried. “Look at their eyes!” They had never seen such a wonderful trick.”
Lyra backed out of the bedroom. She was beginning to feel queasy.
To Lyra's surprise, she slept that night. Once Marble's screaming had died down, she fell into her own deep slumber.
The next morning, Lyra approached Marble Pie. Despite the previous night's ordeal, Marble appeared her usual self. Only the bags under her eyes hinted at her rough night. Regardless, her daily routine suffered no variance or even a moment's lapse. She was heading out to the field when Lyra blocked her path.
“Good morning,” said Lyra quickly.
This politeness out of the way, Lyra jumped right into it.
“What were you dreaming about last night?” she demanded.
Marble did not look offended or taken aback by the question. She actually smiled a little, seemingly touched by Lyra's concerned expression.
“I don't really remember,” said Marble apologetically. “I put it out of my head as fast as I could.”
Lyra was disappointed for a moment, then she felt guilty. Marble hadn't asked for whatever power she possessed. She was just an ordinary Earth pony who wanted to conduct her life in a purely normal fashion. These nightmares were Marble's curse and it made sense that she wanted to distance herself from them.
“How about you get some extra sleep?” Lyra proposed. “I'll do your work for you today.”
Marble's cheeks reddened.
“Oh, no!” she said. “Mother and Father don't like y--”
She ducked her head and blushed even harder.
“I mean, they wouldn't like that,” she said hastily. “I'll be fine.”
As red as a tomato but very pleased, Marble rushed past Lyra and out of the house.
Lyra trotted into the kitchen.
Igneous Rock and Limestone Pie were already outside, but Cloudy Quartz was washing the breakfast dishes. Lyra hadn't had breakfast with the family at all during her stay. This had come as a great relief to more than half of the Pies.
“Good morning,” said Lyra. “Nice day, isn't it? Unusually warm.”
Cloudy Quartz nodded curtly.
“Warmer than yesterday,” she said.
The two carried on with their meaningless small talk for a whole five minutes. Lyra could sense Cloudy's impatience the more she spoke, but she wanted to at least make an attempt at being pleasant. When it was clear she was playing a doomed game, Lyra dropped all pretense.
“Hey, do you have an old copy of The Wizard of Canterlot I can borrow?” she asked.
Cloudy Quartz stiffened. She continued to move the dish towel in circles, but she was no longer holding a plate. She was staring at the empty space as if transfixed. The words that fell from Cloudy's mouth were almost mechanical, as if she was reciting from a memorized script.
“The Wizard of Canterlot?” she said. “No, I don't think so. My daughters were never big on reading.”
She draped the dish towel upon the counter. This time her words were sharp and somewhat accusatory.
“Why?” she demanded. “Why is that book so important to you?”
Lyra took a step back. Even though Lyra had magic on her side, she suddenly felt threatened by Cloudy Quartz. Perhaps it was the unexpectedly fierce glint in Cloudy's eye. Lyra was reminded of the nature films she'd watched as a foal. A prominent feature in those films had been examples of animals protecting their young from a perceived threat.
“It's not,” Lyra lied. “I have a friend who was always bugging me to read it. I thought I'd get around to it if you had a copy.”
Cloudy Quartz whirled around to face the sink again. Lyra couldn't tell if her story had convinced Cloudy.
“You should get some fresh air,” Cloudy Quartz said.
Lyra muttered a farewell, then hastily left the kitchen. She galloped upstairs and into her bedroom. Only with the door closed behind her did she feel entirely safe. Safe from what was something else altogether. Whatever it was, Lyra had escaped it for the time being.
She waited ten minutes, her ear pressed against the door. She couldn't be sure, but finally Lyra thought she heard Cloudy Quartz leave the house.
Emboldened, Lyra eased open the bedroom door. She peeked into the hallway as if expecting Cloudy Quartz to be staring at her in disapproval, but the house seemed truly empty. She tiptoed out of the bedroom and into Limestone and Marble's room.
Lyra hadn't gotten a good look at the sisters' bedroom. She now realized that a through inspection wouldn't have done much good. It was a dull room devoid of personality. Neither sister had made the slightest imprint upon it. It was an utter contrast to the explosion of character that was Pinkie Pie's former bedroom.
Lyra dug around in the dresser for a moment. When she found nothing other than incredibly drab gray dresses, she shifted her search to the closet. She found even more gray dresses, plus an old-fashioned bathing suit.
She levitated a box from the closet's top shelf. The box was marked “Foal Clothes” and seemed to be filled with outfits and toys the sisters had stopped using. Lyra emptied the clothes from the box. She was surprised to find two layers of books underneath the clothes.
The books were mostly cheesy romance novels and old classics Lyra hadn't heard of in years. Lyra remembered snuggling under the covers with one of these titles on more than one occasion during her fillyhood. The memories reminded her that there had been good times. Those good times had simply become infrequent—and then nonexistent—after Lyra turned to the unexplained.
Lyra found what she had come for at the very bottom of the box. It was falling apart, but Lyra tentatively flipped it open and found it was still mostly readable. Levitating it above her head, Lyra carefully packed the clothes, toys, and books back into the box.
She returned to her temporary bedroom in a state of mischief-fueled giddiness. Lyra felt like a teenager who'd sneaked out of the house for the first time.
An energized Lyra sat down on her bed to finally re-read The Wizard of Canterlot.