The Vanishing Point approached Canterlot from above, propellers whirring and engines chugging. The airskiff pulled in its outer sails to wheedle its way between two larger airships. Martial Paw’s steady talons gripped the helm. Light adjustments were all he needed to glide the ship towards their prescribed dock. Daring Do stood on the prow, hollering details of what lay ahead.
“You got a ferry hovering over the intersection!” Daring Do pressed down on her helmet to keep it from flying off. “Up three degrees, reduce speed!”
Martial pulled a lever to angle the elevators. The skiff flew easily over the slower-moving vessel. “Traffic control’s out to lunch! Where did all these ponies come from?”
“It’s not where they came from.” Daring Do covered her eyes with a hoof, shielding her from the midday sun. “It’s where they’re going! These are all outbound flights.”
A massive cargo ship eased itself away from Canter Mountain with the aid of a flight of pegasi. Each pony pressed against the starboard side of the vessel, while unicorns ran up and down the sides untying knots. The cargo bay door remained slightly cracked open until an earth pony pulled it shut. Within, dozens of civilians could be seen, huddling in the midst of crates.
Blankety Blank pointed to the ship with a white foreleg. “They’ve got p-passengers in the cargo ships. Wh—what kinda premium are they charging for that?”
“Enough to cover lost cargo space, that’s for sure. What’re they running from?” Daring Do hopped into the rigging, her eyes peeled for any more cross-traffic. Space was clear for the moment, allowing her time to breathe. Canterlot shimmered like a golden crown, its spires bejeweled with gemstones of every flavor. Two years’ worth of recovery efforts had brought the city close to—if not exactly—its former glory. A few signs of Hurricane’s attack remained at the street level, with shuttered homes and cracked walls the most obvious. At first glance, though, it was as beautiful as it’d ever been. It was practically home.
It would have been, if she couldn’t still see Ponyville down the mountainside.
She pawed the pocket watch around her neck. “Let’s make the meeting with Celestia quick. I wanna get to Dinky’s clock shop and give her some of those trinkets to examine. You guys can do whatever. I’ll contact you when we know our next move.”
She gave Blankety a small grin. “With any luck, it’ll be ‘kick Ahuizotl’s butt.’”
A Royal Guardspony of the pegasus persuasion hailed them from a distance. They waved their forelegs in a directing pattern, aiming them towards Canterlot Castle. Martial saluted with a wing and angled the Vanishing Point to the east. The vessel moved swiftly and smoothly on its new bearing, drawn in by faint magnetic spells from the castle’s ramparts.
Blankety Blank licked the air, tasting the magic on the wind. “That’s new. Some sort of at-attraction beam.”
The guard flew closer. Daring Do recognized them; Stonewall, the Captain of the Guard. The mare saluted Daring Do, who returned it as best she could from her place hanging from the envelope. “That,” Stonewall said, “and also the reverse. If another lunatic tries ramming the castle again, they’ll turn the magnet on them and send them flying down the cliffside.”
Blankety Blank stuck his tongue out. “It’s making me queasy.”
Daring grimaced. Now that he mentioned it, the magnetic power was getting to her, too. Tugging at her fairy strings, itching at her heart, churning her stomach. “Why’s it feel so weird?”
“Magnetic force is a form of magic.” Stonewall shrugged. “Some magic doesn’t mix well with other types.”
Daring Do looked at the castle towers. She could see Luna’s observatory and bedroom, closed up and curtained off during her deepest hours of sleep. Higher up, she could see Dream’s Keep, where Luna watched over dreams every night. A peek downward brought the central courtyard into view, with its sculptures, hedges, and the large tree in the middle. A statue of Celestia towered over the rest, carved with careful strokes from a solid block of marble. A statue of Discord—a sister piece to a similar monument in Las Pegasus—waved from its position near the hedge maze. The south wing shimmered with stained glass windows that told the story of Equestrian History, one grandiose event at a time.
The propellers wound down as ropes were thrown down from the airskiff’s gondola. Waiting guardsponies tied the ship fast while Martial Paw set about lowering the Vanishing Point to its spot before the castle. Daring Do lowered the boarding ramp and skittered down to help secure the ship.
A stuffy-looking unicorn clicked his pocket-watch shut. “Lady Yearling, it does me good to see you punctual.”
“’Sup, Natter?” Daring barely payed him a glance as she tugged a rope down with her teeth. “Gimme a sec, willyah?”
He rolled his eyes and held up a scheduling chart. “We’ve barely a second to spare. Princess Celestia and Cadenza both are expecting you in the throne room. They have dire news to share with you.”
Daring bopped him on the head; lightly enough to not hurt, but firm enough to get the point across. “You got your pens in a pretzel? I’m the one giving the report, Natter, not them.”
“Things have… changed since you’ve been gone.” Natter glared through his monocle, scowling with all the power bureaucracy could afford. “Your presence is very sorely needed. Now.”
Daring Do scoffed. She hollered up to the airship. “Marty, you can handle this, right? My adoring public needs me.”
Martial’s beak popped over the side. “Get a move on before you give poor Natter an aneurism.”
“Alright.” Daring bowed and rolled her hoof, affecting a faux posh accent to match Natter’s. “Lead on, Royal Scheduling Advisor, sirrah.”
Natter’s lip twitched. “Don’t make a ninny of yourself.”
Daring Do trotted alongside him, accompanied by several guardsponies in full armor. It was a good walk from the landing platform to the south wing, which contained the throne room itself. An errant stumble caused a jolt of pain to spike through her wing joints, reminding her that a dose of ambrosia was due. Nasty stuff, basically liquid heartburn, but it did its job.
Looking around, Daring saw that there were far more soldiers around than first met the eye. They lined the walls, they prowled the gardens, they peered through nearly every window. They were pretty heavily armed, too. Daring counted at least three ice-arrow archers, a lightning-powered spear, and clawed boots ready to downright maul any idiot who tried something.
“Huh,” Daring muttered. “’Bout time we got better security around here.”
“I’m inclined to agree.” Natter stood aside to give Daring a direct path to the large double doors leading into the south wing. “Do behave yourself.”
“Spoilsport.”
Daring Do nodded to the guardsponies as they heaved the doors open. Her hooves clicked against the marble floor as she walked down the long, long hallway. Light shone through the stained glass windows, decorating the floor with unspeakably beautiful designs. The Fall of Nightmare Moon coated her with silvers and purples as she passed beneath it. The Unification of Equestria shimmered with the pink-hued light of the Hearths Warming Eve Spell. Legendary heroes from Equestrian history stood ready to defend their homeland from dangers of every sort. The Return of Harmony, The Last Stand of Tirek, The Conquest of the Storm King…
She paused beneath DayBreak, the most recent window added to the hall. Celestia lay at the bottom of the window, with a savage spear jutting up from her chest. Above her hovered a blue-coated pegasus mare, whose wings shimmered with silver blades. Between the princess and the assassin, five creatures made their stand. Daring Do was counted among the Knights of Harmony alongside Care Carrot, Blankety Blank, Twilight Velvet, and Time Turner.
“It’s a beautiful piece,” Princess Celestia said, “though the memories that it drums up are painful.”
“Yeah.” Daring Do’s left ear dipped down as she turned. She gave Celestia a cursory bow, then stood up with a smirk, pushing her pith helmet back. “Gotta say, I’ve always preferred you alive and well.”
“The feeling is certainly mutual.” Celestia furrowed her brow as her wings brushed against her back. “Please come into the throne room. We have much to discuss.”
“You’re telling me.” Daring Do matched Celestia’s pace as they trotted through the archway, her lega moving quickly to keep up with the princess’ longer strides. The doors closed behind them, guided by a blue glow. “Ahuizotl’s got the dagger and he’s already used it. There’s no telling what he’ll do with an army of robotic minions like that.”
“That’s the thing.” Princess Cadenza sat on Luna’s throne, sipping something likely stronger than tea. “Several things have converged on Canterlot simultaneously in the last week. Ahuizotl’s theft of the dagger, the return of the changelings, and the kidnapping.”
“Whoa—what?” Daring Do spread her wings. Biiig mistake. She folded them carefully, her entire back aching. “The changelings? What? Was it an invasion? Did they attack Shiny again? Was it that freak Chrysalis?”
“Chrysalis the Tyrant is dead,” Cadence said. “And her daughter is suing for peace.”
Daring Do stared at Cadence. The princess kept her face calm. Unnaturally calm. Solemn and stony, doing everything possible to hold back a tide of emotion that Daring could see just behind the eyes. After everything Chrysalis did to her family, Daring couldn’t really blame her. “Okay. Did Thorax have anything to do with it?”
“I’m afraid not,” Celestia said. She hefted herself into her throne and leaned against the fluffy back-support. “We still haven’t heard from him and his hive since their… forced exile.”
Daring Do tilted her head to the side. “So what makes this batch of changelings think that peace is possible this time?”
“Because Chrysalis, the instigator of the Changeling War, has been butchered. By her own daughter, no less.”
Celestia and Cadence bowed at the neck. Daring Do glanced back at a familiar, deep voice. Her eyes met massive talons, shadowy wings, and a billowing beard of feathers. King Andean Ursagryph clicked his beak and honored Daring Do with a bent knee. “I apologize for my tardiness. Daring Do, Knight of History; it is an honor to once again serve beside you.”
“Likewise, Your Grace.” Daring smirked at Celestia. “You weren’t kidding about things piling up.”
“Andean has offered the help of Felaccia in these trying times.” Celestia spoke tersely, keeping Andean out of sight. At least, as much as it was possible to ignore something that filled a quarter of the room. “Help that I am grateful to receive.”
“I would expect no less of either of us, Celestia.” Andean narrowed his eyes, turning his head to the side to bring her into full view. “Perhaps it is time to share with Dr. Do the purpose of this meeting?”
“Creator forbid we reconnect,” Celestia muttered. In a voice that rose above the beat of her own heart, she addressed Daring. “I’m afraid that the hunt for Ahuizotl must be postponed. We have another matter that requires your immediate attention.”
“Hold your hippogriffs.” Daring Do placed a hoof on her chest and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been on this mission for two years now. I literally just missed him. If I stop the chase now, he could make up enough headway to—”
“Daring, please.” Celestia swallowed hard. “I know.”
Daring lowered her foreleg. She bobbed her head, breathing slowly. “Okay then. Lay it on me. What happened?”
“Dr. Poni Caballeron has… shall we say ‘switched tactics.’” Celestia produced a manila folder from beside her throne, containing photographs, police reports, and various other sources of information. “Rather than steal rare antiquities, he has kidnapped two young mares. Since you have had the most experience with Caballeron, I want you to lead the investigation. Bring him in, and bring the girls home.”
“Kidnapping, huh?.” Daring Do paced back and forth between the thrones, rubbing her chin. “Kidnapping’s usually not the be-all end-all behind his plans. Something else is up. Who’d he take?”
Celestia furrowed her brow. “Two mares from Ponyville: Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo.”
“Never heard of—” Daring paused, a jolt running through her body. Her head snapped around. “Scootaloo?”
Cadence leaned forward. “You know her?”
“Know her, I—” Daring tossed her helmet to the floor with a clang. Blood boiled beneath her skin. Her wings shook with adrenaline. She gave the helmet a kick that sent it skidding to a stop near Andean’s paws. “Horseapples!”
Andean pinched the hat between two massive talons. He held it out to her, and she snatched it away with a huff. “This… Scoot-a-loo is close to you?”
Daring glared into her helmet. “That freak. That freak took Rainbow Dash’s little sister.”
Andean narrowed his eye at Princess Celestia. “I thought the Knight of Loyalty was an only child.”
“It’s not by blood,” Celestia said. “Just by love.”
Andean ruffled his beard. He stretched his wings halfway to their full length. “Perhaps while you seek out these two young mares, my Blitzwings can continue to pursue Ahuizotl. If you have a lead, it would be irresponsible to ignore it.”
“We don’t really have a lead.” Daring flipped the hat around and placed it deliberately on her head. She stood to her full height—fairly intimidating to a normal pony, but utterly dwarfed by the present company. “Unfortunately, unless heartless victims start popping up, we don’t really have anything to go by. I was just gonna try and study as much of the—uh—artifacts we found as I could and hope I got a link.”
“Hmm.” Andean Ursagryph turned away slightly, clicking his beak. “Regretful.”
Daring Do pursed her lips. She held her head up towards Celestia, allowing a trademark smirk to slide across her muzzle. “Alright. Got the bad guy. Got the mission. Where’s my team, and what are our leads?”
“Twilight Velvet has tracked Dr. Caballeron’s movements to Dodge Junction.” Celestia hovered the manila folder to Daring Do’s waiting forelegs. “A small team in the area is investigating. We don’t expect him to be there, but they’ll examine the site for clues and report back before the day is through.”
Cadence’s ears drooped. “In the meantime, you will most likely meet your team after tonight’s gala in Cloudsdale.”
Daring Do lowered her eyebrows. “I haven’t received an invitation.”
“You just haven’t looked in your inbox yet.” Celestia stuffed a golden ticket into Daring’s shirt pocket. “It would be my pleasure to have you attend and show A.K. Yearling’s support for the rebuilding efforts.”
Daring Do grimaced. “There’s a reason I cultivate the whole ‘reclusive author’ persona.”
“Be that as it may…” Celestia smiled. “It serves the purpose of feeding you something better than rations, generating buzz for Cloudsdale’s situation, allowing you to promote the next Daring Do book, and generally allowing me more time with my friend.”
“Alright. You’re the boss.” Daring Do examined the ticket for location and time. “Speaking of my team, who’s on it?”
Celestia and Cadence looked at each other. Cadence shrugged. “It’s…”
“Eclectic,” Celestia said.
***
Button Mash sat in the midst of the mess his house had become. Packing was problematic, since he’d never gone on a long trip before and didn’t quite know what to bring. He didn’t even really know where they were going. Should he pack for cold weather? Stifling heat? Deserts and mountains? Bogs and caverns?
He blew a raspberry and twisted the plus-shaped device strapped to his hoof. The marionette known as River moved to match, prancing across the tabletop. The determined expression carved into her wooden face matched his from mere minutes ago. Determination he still felt, though now tempered with trepidation.
“Funny thing about tempering,” he muttered into the silence. “It tends to make things tougher.”
River leaped from the table and landed square in his duffle bag. The magic glow left her joints as he detached the control from his foreleg. He stuffed it into a pocket beside a winter hat and a bottle of sunscreen. He glanced at a note taped to his refrigerator: “Meet at the train station at 3:00. Wear something nice.”
He did have something nice. The suit he’d rented for the talent show—the one he was going to wear to his date before she’d shown up too soon—still hung in his closet. None the worse for the wear, though still too short at the sleeve. Apparently, Celestia wanted as large a presence at the Cloudsdale Gala as possible. Especially now that Sweetie Belle wasn’t singing there.
Button snorted. It figured that he would get invited to a gala designed to part people from their bits. He didn’t have much to give in that regard. He tossed a bit Cloudsdale’s way, here and there. Mostly to help the refugees who still lived in Ponyville. Ponies who still didn’t feel at home. And who could blame them, knowing their city-state—one of the largest in Equestria—had been torn to pieces from beneath them?
He slid a drawer open as he shrugged the nice suit coat onto his shoulders. His Joyboy sat at the bottom of a pile of junk, charged and ready to go. He’d have to ride on a train to get to where they were going, right? There was probably a lot of travel time where he didn’t have anything else to do but worry, right? The ten-year-old game system still had some fight left in it, right?
He tossed the old Joyboy atop the River puppet, already outfitted with Barley-Oat Bros. Deluxe and The Legend of Celestia: Epona’s Awakening.
Button’s ear twitched at a knock on his front door. He hustled over, still tugging a leg through a sleeve. He glanced through the window, saw it was Rumble, and clicked the door open. “Yo. Help yourself to a cracker or something.”
“Swanky.” Rumble waltzed in. His idea of “Dress nice” appeared to be fully encapsulated by a single bowtie around his neck and little else. “How long you had this place?”
“About a month.” Button Mash slid his own bowtie in place and set about knotting it. He still had a book on tying open beside his bed, with illustrated instructions ready to show him how wrong he was. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rumble glance through his suitcase. “How’s it look? Am I ready to Dive Through Danger—trademarked, registered, incorporated.”
Rumble clicked his tongue. “I give the puppet a four out of ten.”
“I’ll take it.” Button slipped the fabric around itself and came up with something approximating a tie. Barely. “I dunno, man. What do you recommend?”
“What can I say?” Rumble shrugged his muscular shoulders. “I recommend a couple years of guard training, a black belt in carrote, and a full suit of legendary armor.”
“That’s what I figured.” Button ran a hoof through his spiked mane. The strands of hair fell as they wished. “That’s about right…”
Rumble sat at the table, leaning his bulk against the edge. The little thing nearly tipped over before he righted it. “I don’t get it, dude. I don’t think you’re ready. Not for this.”
Button gritted his teeth behind closed lips. “You can’t talk me out of—”
“I don’t want to talk you out of it.” Rumble spread his wing to flick open a cupboard. He pulled forth a cup and filled it at the sink. “I wanna understand. I wanna know why you’re going through with this. I didn’t know you and Sweetie were that serious, dude.”
“We’re…” Button Mash took the chair across from Rumble. He tugged his collar to free up the topmost button. “We’re not. I’m… I dunno. We went on one date. We had fun. Then… Then Caballeron.” He sighed and leaned his head back. “I should have been there for her. Done something.”
“Button, come on, man.” Rumble punched him in the shoulder before downing his cup in one gulp. “From what I hear, you gave us the only lead we have on Caballeron. And you fought to protect Sweets and Scoots with your life. That’s not nothing. You gave your all. You gave until something broke.”
Button tossed a salted cracker into his mouth. He munched thoughtfully until he could successfully unjumble his mind. “Yeah. But that’s the thing. Something broke. I did all I could, and it wasn’t enough.”
He flicked a cracker across the room, into the wastebasket. “I just want to… grow beyond these four walls. Do something important. Help somebody I care about. I want to—” He cupped his head in his hooves. “I want to matter.”
“Hay.” Rumble leaned close, placing a feather on Button’s shoulder. “We’re bros, right? You matter a lot—”
“Of course I do.” Button blew a breath. He tugged his duffle bag closer and zipped it closed. “I matter to you, and to Mom and Dad, and to Spike, and to a whole lot of other people. But I don’t feel it in here.” He tapped his chest. “I don’t feel it for myself. I look at myself and I see some colt who can’t walk on his own, or stand up for others, or say anything worth listening to.”
Rumble brought his eyebrows together. He refilled his cup and got another one out for Button. “So it’s not about Sweetie?”
“It’s totally about Sweetie, but—” Button peeked over his hooves. “You’re not gonna charge for psychoanalyzing me, are you?”
“A p-sychiatrist I ain’t.” Rumble grinned. “And the first half-hour’s free.”
Button Mash shook his head lightly. He gazed around the small house he owned. He could see everything from his vantage point in the kitchen-entryway. The tiny, freshly-cleaned bathroom. The stove which saw more use cooking ramen than fine meals. The wall full of marionettes of monsters and heroes.
He looked down to his duffel and saw River in his mind’s eye. “I’ve grown up around heroes, man. Ponies who shape the world they live in. Guys who stand up for what’s right, and people notice. Creatures that fight for goodness.” He rubbed his forehead and took a sip. “Me? I’ve always wanted the simple life. Put on a play. Enjoy some video games. Marry a nice girl and raise a family. But—Even though that’s what I want, it doesn’t seem like it should be enough.”
He stood up and tossed his cup in the sink. He fiddled with his tie to get it to sit right across his neck without choking him. “I put on volunteer plays, as an amateur. I’ve forked over hundreds of bits for video games and suck at most of them. And the girl?”
He cracked a grin and glanced over his shoulder. “Remember my first crush?”
“Lily Longsocks, yeah.” Rumble crossed his forelegs and gazed into distant memory. “Did anything ever happen with that?”
“She just wasn’t into it. Into me.” Button flicked his short tail as his ears lay across his head. “Yeah. You can’t really do anything about that. That was the first flop. Then a couple years later, my big brother had his incident with Scootaloo.”
Rumble rolled his eyes. “You had nothing to do with Lickety Split being a lying, cheating sack of d—”
“Didn’t I?” Button tugged his lapels, as if yanking his words into the open. “I was there, dude. I was living with my brother when he was blatantly lying to Scootaloo. Poor Alula had no idea what was going on either and I just… did nothing. And they had to find out for themselves.”
“And I repeat.” Rumble flapped into the air, nearly bumped his head on the ceiling, and settle back to the floor. “I repeat: It wasn’t your fault.”
“No. Maybe not.” Button held up a hoof. “But I did nothing to help, either.” He paced back and forth in the tiny kitchen, stepping over his bag and around Rumble. “But now fast-forward to the present day, and I think maybe Sweetie likes me. She smiles at me, dude. Smiles like the sun coming up over Canter Mountain. Her eyes sparkle like friggin’ moonbeams breaking through the clouds. Her voice gets all bubbly when she talks to me, and my tongue gets twisted. I can’t take it anymore, so I ask her out.”
He tapped Rumble on the nose. “She says yes.”
Button shut the door to his bedroom and hoisted the duffle bag onto his shoulder. “I think maybe I’ve got a chance. Maybe she’s the one. I know she’s special. I know she’s an amazing, wonderful, smart, fun person. I do everything I can to not mess it up. It still gets messed up here and there, but it’s still nice. It’s still good.”
The world greeted him with an afternoon sun. A faint summer breeze tickled his ears as he stepped onto the sidewalk. “Then comes a moment when she needs help. Badly. And I do something, dude. For the first time in my life, I do something.”
He patted his chest, where the scars from Caballeron’s blade were the deepest. “And it still doesn’t matter.”
He started down the road to the train station, with Rumble in tow. “So I’m gonna keep throwing myself into the fray until something breaks. And I hope to goodness that I’m not what breaks next time.”
“Hoping to goodness is not theologically sound.” Rumble leaned his elbow on Button’s back, slowing him down to a reasonable pace. “But know this; when the chips are down and you’ve gotta do something awesome, I’m gonna be right beside you to make sure you live through it. Got it?”
Button smiled. It was a small smile, but it was something. There was energy behind Rumble’s promise. Drive. Purpose. Friendship. “I couldn’t ask for a better, tankier friend to stand beside me. Except maybe Spike.”
***
Spike the Dragon stepped into the barn-made-laboratory. He slid protective goggles over his eyes to keep the various chemicals from dissolving something sensitive. A certain someone sat at a large desk, measuring out a mixture that glowed green. “Working on something for the rescue?”
Apple Bloom shuffled within the folds of her smock. She slid the notes aside and corked the flask. “We still got an hour until we need to be at the train station, right?”
“Yeah.” Spike propped his elbows atop the desk, careful not to come down with too much force. He didn’t want to shatter the wood. “You gonna wear that dress with the gradient?”
“You make it sound so clinical.”
“Color terms are clinical now?”
“Anything beyond primary and secondary colors is strange magic to me.” Apple Bloom matched his pose from the far side of the worktable. Her ears flopped at the sides of her head. “Wanna tell me I don’t gotta go to the gala?”
“No.” Spike showcased two rows of perfectly sharp, gem-cutting teeth. “I wanna take whatever chance I get to see you in a pretty dress.”
“So take a picture.” She booped his nose. “Take your salacious thoughts and put them to good use.” She rolled over until her back was to the table. She pushed the goggles up onto her forehead, revealing the shallow indents they’d left in her coat. “Get us to the part where we rescue the Crusaders.”
Spike stepped around the desk and took a seat beside her. She leaned against him and allowed him to slip an arm around her shoulders. She had to hunch down a little to get her head at the same height as his, but didn’t seem to mind. They sat quietly in Apple Bloom’s laboratory, breathing in each other’s’ company.
“I’m scared for them, too,” Spike whispered.
Apple Bloom stared into the middle distance, eyes wide and too dry. “We were at the changeling invasion at Cadence and Shining Armor’s wedding. They caught us and kept us quiet in the throne room. They captured us again during the comet passing, when they wanted to steal Twilight’s magic. And then again when Queen Chrysalis took over Equestria from the inside out. There was the time Tirek ate our magic. We were even there when the Storm King attacked Canterlot and locked us all in cages. We’ve seen some rough stuff.”
She licked her parched lips. “But every time, we were always together. We always had each other. We never had to be alone.” She bent down to nestle her head beneath Spike’s chin. “I know it’s stupid, but I really, really wish I was with them right now.”
“It’s not stupid, Bloom.” Spike nuzzled the top of her head, bumping his filmy ear against her bow. “You just wanna help however you can, right?”
She nodded.
“We all do.” He traced a clawtip through the dirt floor, a mental parallel to his own swirling, unordered thoughts. He picked a direction and stuck to it, moving to trace the line gently across her foreleg. “They aren’t alone, you know. They’ve got each other. They’re both capable mares.”
She placed a tiny kiss on his knuckle. “And I ain’t alone, neither. I got all of you guys. You ‘specially.”
She raised her head until she was nose-to-nose with him. “You’re a good stallion, Spike T. Dragon. Don’t forget it.”
He quirked his smile to the side. “More and more, I find myself needing to listen to the truth spoken by young mares.”
“Ain’t young anymore, bucko. We’re twenty.” A faint smile appeared at the corners of her eyes. “How’s it feel to be two decades old, by the way? Never asked you.”
“I was gonna ask you first. Geezer.” Spike chuckled. “Feels like we haven’t aged a day since we started going steady. But I’ve always been an old stallion stuck in a baby dragon’s body.”
“Naw, you’ve grown.” She patted his scaly belly, pausing as she hovered over the scar in his chest. “Not just in stature, either. You’re a wise person. More certain of things.” She huffed a breath and shook her mane out. “Bleh. I wish I had certainty about more stuff in life.”
His eyes trailed to the green flask a meter away. He ran his eyes over the notes and found them indecipherable. “What’re you working on?”
“Hogwash and hooey.” She gave him a cheeky raspberry. “Actually, I’ve been lookin’ through my books lookin’ for potions that’d be useful durin’ our adventure. Packed away some balloon juice, electrically-charged cloudstuff, and a bottle of instant piranha plants.”
“Instant what?”
“Piranha plants.” She framed an imaginary image with her hooves. “You know. Single stalk, ends in a bulb, has rows and rows of teeth, red with white polka-dots? Just toss the bottle on the ground and get a fast-growin’ tangle of weeds.”
“And… balloon juice?”
“Drink it an’ it makes you lighter than air.”
“Aha.”
She pouted lightly, her brow furrowing. “I ain’t managed to figure out how to stop floating just yet. Wears off after a couple hours, but it ain’t perfect.”
Spike swished his tail along the dusty floor of the barn. A cloud rose behind him, tickling his nose and itching at his ears. “Anything more combat-oriented? Caustic clouds? Flash-bang fondue? Elephant tranquilizer?”
She laughed and pushed herself to her four feet. Her hooves clip-clopped as she trotted over to a cart parked at the far side of the room. “Zecora had a rule when she started apprenticing me in potion brewing. ‘A potion-maker will not think, of brewing what they refuse to drink.’”
Spike propped his cheek on his palm, leaning his elbow against the tabletop. “I thought it was ‘A potion-maker will not brew, something they wouldn’t drink, too.’”
“We both agreed that the new rhyme was better.” Apple Bloom unbuttoned her smock and hung it from a coatrack. She reached over a tool vest on the cart to grab a set of saddlebags placed on the passenger’s seat. “Still a little lazy, but better.”
Spike held his arm out for her to loop a foreleg through. “Would you care to join me for a late lunch, m’lady?”
She gripped his elbow with a snigger. “I gotta quick brush my coat, first. But sure. Gonna treat me at the usual place?”
“If that be your request.” Spike opened the door. Warm summer wind hissed across his scales. “Healthy snacks at Sugarcube Corner it is, then.”
“Mm hmm!” She flicked an ear. “Did you deliver the Daring Do manuscript to your ma?”
“Care said she’d take care of it. She wanted to say hi to her friend.”
***
Care Carrot jogged through the city of Ponyville with the manuscript tied to her back. Strong legs carried her through the marketplace, past stalls selling fruit, vegetables, knickknacks, and any other commodity one could wish for. A red plaid shirt kept the sun’s rays off of her back, while a ponytail kept her mane off her neck, allowing cool air to flow over it as she ran.
The gentle smallness of a village collided with the bustle of a burgeoning city. Some of the stalls were one-pony shows, while others carried the logo of some large chain or another. Some ponies trotted about with pearls around their necks and their noses in the air; meanwhile, a good few could be seen carefully bean-counting their bits, buying the bare minimum. By and large, though, the most prevalent was the middle-class that had taken root in Ponyville. Ponies who had traveled from Manehattan and Fillydelphia to start a new life for themselves. Crystal Ponies visiting from the north, gaining a taste of the modern day. Pegasi who had tumbled from the ruins of Cloudsdale and landed wherever there was space to park a cloudhouse.
There, rising from the ground before her, was the focal-point of Ponyville: Twilight Sparkle’s Castle. It grew like a tree from the soil, its crystalline spires like branches reaching for the heavens. It caught the sunlight, but rather than a harsh glare, there was a warm glow signifying security, peace, and friendship. It caught her breath and held it tight.
A wash of memories flooded in from her time spent living there. Training sessions with Daring Do and Blankety Blank. Stories shared with Twilight Velvet and Time Turner. Bread broken with the knights who had become her family.
Harsher memories shared space with the bright days. Bitter battles with an ancient hero gone mad. Innocence fractured by a snap decision. Friends lost in a sacrifice of love. Broken bones and crushed hearts uniting in a short but bloody war.
But through it all, friendship is what pulled them through. Special friendships never to be forgotten.
She allowed one last image to come to mind: Spike the Dragon, standing between her and a loaded volleygun, taking a shot to the chest and still coming. Refusing to let her down. Refusing to see anyone hurt.
She smiled and trotted up the front steps. The two guards, a crystal stallion named Coldstone and a unicorn mare named Snow Cap, opened the large double-doors to allow her entrance. She nearly tripped over a large scrape-mark in the crystal floor, left behind by some large beast long since departed.
“Lady Carrot,” Coldstone said, “it does the heart good to see you alive and well. I take it the Badlands were as horrible as they say?”
“The Badlands were pretty bad, gotta admit.” Care shrugged, carrying herself more gently so that she didn’t lose the manuscript. “But things always go easier with a few friends by your side. Had a run-in with some slavers before we managed to find Chrysalis’ corpse. Mole-people, diamond dogs, the usual bunch.”
Snow Cap shook her head. “Give me the Frozen North and sub-zero temperatures before I’d ever venture south of Equestria. Stay cool, Captain.”
“Stay cool, guys.” Care smirked as she stepped through the doors and into the castle’s front hall. It opened up into a massive room, with a ceiling high enough to comfortably fit a full-grown dragon. The windows were made not from stained glass, but grown from crystal. They lay at regular intervals on the wall, allowing the sunlight in, but coloring it to a fantastical degree. The polished floor reflected warmth and magic that bounded across the entire structure.
Three young ponies and two griffon chicks barreled through the hall, outrunning the royal guardspony trying to corral them. Care stepped to the side and allowed the royal children a clean shot to the exit. She gave Commander Skyhook a friendly smile and wished him good luck. He bobbed his head briefly before disappearing into the city of Ponyville in hot pursuit.
A quick stroll took her to the castle’s central room. Seven thrones sat around a magical table, from which sprouted images from around Equestria and beyond. Cloud cities hovered above mountains, trees swayed across forests, and buildings great and small dotted the settled areas.
On the far side of the table stood Twilight Velvet, Knight of Counsel. She looked up from her manila folder as Captain Care approached. “Care! It’s good to see you again!”
“Lady Velvet.” Care lit her horn with a brilliant pink glow and hovered the manuscript towards Velvet. “I bring regards from A.K. Yearling.”
“Wha—?” Twilight Velvet exchanged Care’s pink magic for her own. “Did she send all this through Spike?”
“I think so.” Care sat herself down in what she supposed was Rainbow Dash’s throne, judging from the lightning bolt on the back. “I was on my walk at the time, but I do remember hearing a belch from across town.”
“I swear, Daring, one of these days we’ve gotta have a long talk.” Velvet glanced at the cover of the manuscript. “Alright. Thanks, Care. I’ll get this thing edited and we can get another hit Daring Do novel on the shelves.”
Care crossed her forelegs. “And the world rejoiced.”
“And complained.” Velvet waved the pages at Care. “And they’d complain a lot more if I hadn’t convinced Daring to not make it about the Cloudsdale Incident.”
Care grimaced. “What is it about, then?”
“She basically butchered the story to focus solely around her, Time, and their trip into Canter Mountain’s Crystal Mines.” Velvet flipped through a few pages, scanning their contents. She hummed a bit at certain parts, but soon brought her attention back to Care. “She wouldn’t budge on making Time a main character. I’ll admit it still worries me.”
Care looped her green, braided ponytail over her shoulder. “The Daring Do books have always been pretty autobiographical, though, haven’t they?”
“Yes, but she’s been absolutely pouring her heart into this.” Velvet sighed and shoved it as much as she could into her saddlebags. “In a way I haven’t really seen since her first novel.”
Care leaned her elbow against the armrest. “Confession is good for the soul.”
“So our beloved Yearling tells me.” Twilight Velvet tossed her mane and trotted closer. “But enough about that. You’ve picked up a few more stragglers, I hear.”
“Friends of Spike.” Care nodded. “He’s vouched for all of them being capable ponies, and all are ready and willing to help Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo in any way they can.” She flicked an ear down. “Are you coming with us?”
“I wish.” Velvet took Applejack’s throne with a weighty huff. “You’re the field leader on this mission. You’ll have to make due with Daring Do and Blankety Blank and whatever other rabble the bunch of you mush together.” She chuckled deep in her belly. “I’ll be stuck here coordinating the investigation. You gain a strong appreciation for order when you’re in charge of a group of ponies used to doing things independently.”
Velvet narrowed her eyes. “I had a question; what do you know about Merry Mare?”
“Who?”
“The former mayor of Ponyville.”
“Oh.” Care scratched her forehead. “Not a whole lot. She was only mayor for a couple of years while I was Princess Celestia’s guard. She always enjoyed Miss Mare’s company, and the people of Ponyville respect her. Or they did, until the roads got bad.”
“That’s about what I know.” Velvet chewed her lower lip. “Keep your ear to the ground for me, okay? There’s something funny going on in Ponyville, and I’ve got a few signs that point her way.”
Care bobbed her head. “Will do.”
Velvet tapped the magical map with her hoof. The view zoomed in on Dodge Junction, where two cutie mark symbols hovered above the train station. “Presently, though, we’ve got a couple of agents closing in on a warehouse in Dodge Junction, said to be the last known location of one Poni Caballeron. We think he may have left some sort of clue about just what the hay is going on. We hope so, anyway.”
“And once we know that,” Care said, leaning forward, “Daring and I can follow the clues to where he’s keeping the two victims.”
“Bingo.” Velvet moved a hoof over the edge of the table, and the map swung around to present a new perspective. The cutie marks came into focus: A swirl of magic trailing from a star, and a shimmering wand over a flash of moonlight. “They’d better find something good, or this investigation is gonna start spinning its wheels real fast.”
Care Carrot rifled through her memory, but couldn’t find a match between the symbols and ponies she knew. “Are they knights?”
“One is a knight, yes.” Velvet slowly brought her hoof to her temple to give it a long, deep massage. “The other one, though…”
***
The Great and Powerful Trixie Lulamoon, hero of Equestria, world-renowned stage magician, heartthrob of thousands, stepped off the train platform and into the muggy, dust-choked air. The edges of her mane split one by one, as her tail curled of its own accord. She had left her magician’s cloak and hat in her house-cart, leaving her to face the elements bare. “The G and P Trixie has little to say of Dodge Junction.”
Starlight Glimmer stepped out from behind her, breathing deep of the fresh air after several hours locked in a train. Finding the air slightly less fresh than she expected, she coughed politely into her hoof. The coughs soon turned violent.
“There, there, my faithful assistant,” Trixie said, patting the other mare lightly on the flank. “Just let it all out.”
Starlight gagged. “Why does the entire town smell like old booze?”
A passing conductor tipped his hat to her. “Ma’am. There was a brawl at the saloon last night. Ended with what woulda been a food-fight if they’d been serving food instead of whiskey. Lotta shattered glasses, lotta shattered skulls. Everybody’s been tryin’ ta forget the whole thing. Ended up chasin’ some strange pegasus outta town on account of causing the whole shebang.”
“Aha!” Trixie Lulamoon strode proudly forth, accidently stepping in a mud puddle. She glanced down at her browned hoof, suppressed a scowl, and turned back to the stallion. “We are, in fact, in the business of tracking down a strange—”
Starlight Glimmer lifted a hoof to Trixie’s chin, halting its waggle in a single practiced motion. “Would you mind directing us to warehouse fifty-one, sir? We have something to pick up there.”
“We’ve got a few warehouses on the east side of town.” The old conductor scratched beneath his hat, ruffling his meager mane. “Never bothered memorizing the layout, so can’t tell ya which is which.”
“We’ve got pretty good luck in that regard.” Starlight grinned at Trixie, hiding fire behind her eyes. “We’ll take a quick walk over there and let you continue with your business.”
The conductor shrugged and walked away. “My business is trains, and we ain’t leaving for another hour.”
“Right! Good!” Starlight waved halfheartedly. “Thanks for your help.”
Trixie pouted. “I was just about to interrogate him for information! It sounds like he was talking about—”
“Rhombus, I know.” Starlight looped her foreleg around Trixie’s neck and yanked her ear close to her mouth. “But the less people know that we’re looking for you-know-who, the less chance they’ll be able to get outta Dodge before we find them.”
“Aha! Sneaky.” Trixie Lulamoon placed a hoof over her heart. She closed her eyes with a wide smile. “I assure you, Trixie is the most duplicitous and secretive unicorn you’ll ever meet. When she’s not being the most open and genuine one, of course.”
Starlight sniggered. “Of course.” Starlight Glimmer crossed her eyes to look at her horn. She sent a soft flare of magic tracing along its length. “I don’t detect anybody watching us. Let’s move quickly. Twilight Velvet’s hoping we report back before the afternoon’s over.”
“Ah, Twilight Velvet. Of the Canterlot Sparkle family. My favorite.” Trixie rolled her eyes and followed Starlight down the dusty road, through the main street of the bustling town. The saloon’s doors were boarded up and painted with a crudely-fashioned “closed for repairs.” A great deal of the stallions and mares of the town either sat beneath the porches nursing their heads, or went about their business with dour expressions abounding.
Trixie lowered her voice. “When these people go off the rails, they don’t mess around.”
“Shut up, Trixie.” Starlight grinned at a stallion as he gave her a particularly venomous glare. “If you get us booted from town—”
“Relaaaax, Starlight.” Trixie waved a limp hoof. Mud flicked across the street indiscriminately as a result. “Trixie’s got this. I see the line, and I shall not cross it.” She bumped her shoulder against Starlight and giggled. “Just you see. After this mission, Celestia will have to make me a Knight of Harmony. Can you just see it?” She leaned heavily on Starlight and pointed a hoof into the ether. “Trixie Lulamoon, Knight of Magic.”
Starlight rolled her eyes. “I’m already the Knight of Magic.”
Trixie pressed her cheek against Starlight’s and hugged her head close. “Perhaps Trixie shall be a co-knight of magic! The Lady of Illusions, the Mage of Magicality!”
A bubble of magic completely encased Trixie. Starlight dragged her several meters away and raised a single, interrogative eyebrow.
Trixie swallowed. “I’ll be quiet.”
“You bet you will.” Starlight stepped around a porch and found several barn-like buildings built along the edge of town. “Because we’ve just found out spot.”
The warehouses stood side-by-side, with small addresses etched beside the doors. Most looked like they were fairly well-kept, but others were run down and disused. Starlight counted down in her head. Fourty-eight, fourty-nine, fifty… There it was. The last known location of Poni Caballeron.
She glanced at Trixie, whose mirth had melted away in an instant. The blue-coated unicorn breathed shallow and hesitantly. Her eyebrows came together on her forehead.
Starlight placed a hoof on her shoulder. “You ready?”
“Yes.” Trixie lowered her head and marched doggedly towards the warehouse. “Trixie was born for this moment.”
The barn was locked with an expensive padlock, sealed against magic. Starlight went to work, studying its depths, its inner workings, to find a way to release it. Trixie examined the grounds around the building, searching for hidden boobytraps and the like. The barn was made from good wood, strong and weathered, painted fairly regularly to keep it from standing out among the other warehouses. Enchantments surrounded the structure, mostly standard-issue wards to prevent ponies from prying into others’ private business. Hardly malevolent, but nonetheless disconcerting to an investigator.
The tumblers in the lock released, and it fell to the ground. Starlight gave one last glance around, then pulled the door open with a sparkle of magic. Trixie came alongside her as they walked into the warehouse together.
A spell materialized on the tip of Trixie’s horn and floated upward, casting light on the interior. It was mostly dusty boxes with their lids nailed shut, but a few were open, displaying treasures from antiquity. Masks from Giraffrica, gold coins from Lightning Gale, griffon swords, all completely priceless, ready to be sold to the highest bidder.
“Holy horseapples,” Trixie hissed. “Just one box of this stuff and I’d never have to work another day in my life.”
Starlight reached out with her magic, sensing the trinkets. So much magic flowed from them that it was nearly impossible to differentiate one spell from another. “Search carefully. I can’t tell if any of this stuff is gonna react to us, so use your better judgement.”
“Trixie always does,” Trixie whispered. She licked dry lips as her teeth chattered. “Um. Perhaps I can keep a little bit of this as… a reward, or perhaps a finder’s fee—?”
“No.” Starlight moved to a box and studied it until she was satisfied it wouldn’t kill her. She removed the nails one by one until the lid could swing off. Beneath padding and blankets, she found a strange, glowing amulet with a green gem at the center.
Trixie looked over Starlight’s shoulder and shuddered. She skittered to the far side of the room to glance at the swords.
Starlight flicked her bangs back. “Something wrong?”
“Déjà vu.” Trixie shook her head and flicked her tail dismissively. “Pay it no mind. I have issues with amulets.”
Starlight smirked and went back to the device. It was a fairly weak amulet, used to generate a forcefield around the user. Not much good for stopping modern weapons, but it could deflect a spearhead in a pinch. “I don’t think this one’s the secret to enslaving a town, Trixie.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Trixie laughed, releasing a good bit of tension, but not nearly all of it. “Tell me, oh wise one, which of these items would be most effective in said conquest?”
“Not much of use here for…” Starlight halted her words at the same time as her hooves. There, near the back of the warehouse, a cup of some sort could be seen sitting half-in, half-out of a shallow box. Decorative markings traced the clay brim, while the inside seemed to be pure, pored gold. On the stem was embedded a red gemstone, carved in a lightning-bolt patter reminiscent of the classic symbol for the Element of Loyalty. “Well, that one’ll do.”
“Hmm?” Trixie set a glowing sword back into place. A dark voice whispered black magic from the shadows until Trixie shut it up with a flash from her overhead light. “Quiet you; my friend is talking.”
The sword whimpered and acquiesced.
“This cup,” Starlight said, approaching the box. A quick search brought her attention to the surrounding boxes, walls, ceiling, floorboards, anything that could hide a trap. Finding nothing of note, she greedily grasped the cup in her magical grip. “This thing! It’s really here! I never thought I’d find it in a million years!”
Trixie stared nonplussed. “A cup. How exciting.”
“I know, right?” Starlight giggled and rubbed the side of the cup against her fuzzy cheek. “Oh this is wonderful! One of the true lost treasures of the First Age! Trixie, do you know what this is?”
Trixie lowered her eyebrows. “Fenrir’s Foghorn?”
“It’s the Griffon’s Goblet! A device forged by the first griffon king, Aster of the Storm!” Starlight turned it towards Trixie, all but shoving it in her face. “Look, look inside! The gold is designed to channel the magic into the gemstone, which connects whatever you put into it and whoever’s holding it at the cellular level! If it’s filled with storm clouds made from a special mineral-blend water found in a hidden mountain in Felaccia, it allows the user to controls storms!”
“How… deviously simple.” Trixie lowered the cup from her snout slowly and carefully. “How could it ever have fallen out of use?”
“Oh ha, ha.” Starlight held the cup up to the light to admire it more closely. “It’s not important so much in its use as it is a look into history! One of the first really complex magical devices known to sapience! It’s been years since we knew where this was! Why, the last time I heard this mentioned was in D—” Starlight Glimmer stared off into space, her jaw going limp for a brief instant. “Daring Do and the Griffon’s Goblet. Where Ahuizotl stole it, but was unable to use it due to the ritual being incomplete.”
“Ahuizotl?” Trixie sniggered. “From the Daring Do books? Look, I liked the stories when I was a filly, but—”
“Shut up, Trixie.” Starlight turned the goblet over and over, seeking oddities, aberrations, or defects. Finding none, she lowered it back into the box. “But why would he part with such a valuable weapon, even if he couldn’t activate it? There has to be something else. Did Caballeron steal it?”
Trixie sent an extra pulse of magic into her illumination spell to keep it going. Magic hummed overhead, like bees buzzing around a hive. “Perhaps the Power Ponies stole it from him?”
“I’m serious, Trixie.” Starlight ran her hooves through her mane. She dug through the box, moving the packaging materials aside. “This has to be significant. It’s the only thing in here that’s worth anything to a creature like Ahuizotl. Why would Caballeron leave something like this in Dodge Junction of all places? Something just isn’t right.”
“It sounds like Rhombus was kicked out of town in a hurry.” Trixie’s ears flicked as the buzzing grew louder. “Maybe they left it behind and hope to come back for it?”
“Possibly, but…” Starlight reached the bottom of the box. Scratched into the wood with crude letters was a message. Starlight read aloud, trying to sound out the haphazard script. “Pay—payment in full for— the sig—singer. Payment in full for the singer.”
Trixie’s eyes widened. “The singer! Sweetie Belle! Caballeron kidnapped them to give them to—”
The buzzing reached a piercing whine. Starlight and Trixie looked up simultaneously to see what was wrong with her spell. The spell was fine; what was not fine lay behind it.
Nailed to the ceiling at regular intervals, connected by copper wire, were several cylindrical magical syphons. Syphons were used to pull magic from the air to power devices too large for a pony to activate alone. These syphons were not connected to a machine, and they were already overtaxed due to the ambient magic in the warehouse. Trixie and Starlight’s spells put them over the edge.
The normally charcoal-gray objects glowed brilliant red, verging on white. The whine reached its zenith.
Trixie let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a gasp. “Oh, Rut!”
Fire erupted all around. It consumed the boxes, melted the artifacts, and blew the warehouse off its foundations. Flaming wood collapsed in a blazing pile of ash and soot as priceless magical devices shattered, adding to the magical conflagration. Light and darkness roared, and then all were silenced.
A magic shield stood tall within the center of the collapsed warehouse. The blue field faded away, revealing Starlight Glimmer and Trixie Lulamoon, shaken but unharmed. Trixie lay on the ground and peered between the hooves protecting her face. “Are we dead?”
Starlight teetered on unsteady hooves. “Not… yet…” She looked down at the Griffon’s Goblet, still gripped by the power of her horn. The magic flickered and let the cup plop to the ground. She looked around and found herself the center of attention. Dozens of townspeople gathered around, their jaws agape at the explosion and the subsequent reveal of the survivors. She gave them a smile and a weak wave.
Trixie got slowly to her feet. Black dust covered her back and tail, and adrenaline flowed unchecked through her veins. “P-p-p-perhaps we need a drink?”
“Saloon’s still closed,” Starlight muttered, the explosion ringing in her ears. The bystanders neither advanced nor retreated, so she continued to greet them with a friendly wave of the hoof. “No booze. Not nearly enough booze.”
Trixie smiled at her. It was meant to be friendly, but her frayed nerves had the effect of stretching her mouth just a little too wide, and turning her eyes just the slightest shade of crazy. “I have a stash for long road trips.”
“That,” Starlight said, stuffing the goblet into her saddlebags, “is why you’re my best friend.”