“I swear Jean,” Lynn Harding said, falling off the couch for a third time with a painful thud. “I’m going to kill them... but not until they teach me how to move in this body.” She looked at the rear legs of her pegasi form, where her slacks had tangled and twisted, binding her as effectively as any rancher’s rope and sighed.
“Stop fighting it so much,” her friend, Jean Pedersen said, as she raised her own equine body, that of a snow white unicorn, to its hooves. “Like the kids did with picking up stuff with their hooves, just let it happen.” Jean took a step forward, and her leg promptly buckled and sent her crashing to the floor. She rolled into her friend, who collapsed on top of her.
“Jean face it, neither of us is going anywhere fast,” Lynn said, going limp and letting gravity get her off her friend. “Even if we got moving with any kind of ability, it would be stupid to try to go after the kids in this weather.”
“I know, I know,” Jean sighed, having mastered her unicorn body enough to move into a proper sitting position. “It’s just... It’s my girls. I know them and I trust them, but—”
“But you’re a mother,” Lynn said, interjecting as she put a hoof on her friends and smiled at her, “and you can’t help but worry about them and want them to be safe. It’s one of the things you and I have always connected on, but if we try to go to them now we’d be more of a danger to them than the storm.”
“I hate it when you’re right,” Jean said, trying to channel some magic through her horn, like she had seen Rowan do, and failing. “Fine, let’s get you out of that tangle you’re in and we’ll see if we can figure out how to move around at least enough so we can figure out what the kids thought was so important.”
The rain came down in solid sheets, while the wind battered the five young ponies as it howled through the treetops. With the power out, the only lighting came from what moonlight filtered through the storm clouds or from houses lit by candles and lanterns. The intimate familiarity of natives guided the children as they ran through the storm washed town.
“How are we even going to find them in this?” Iron Hoof asked Shield Maiden, as they pounded along the cracked asphalt that hadn’t seen a paving crew in years.
“We don’t need to find them,” Shield Maiden said, trying and failing to manifest a shield to keep some of the rain off. “We know where they’re going, all we have to do is head down the road to the lake and we’re bound to run into them.”
“How come I feel tho warm?” Seeker asked, drawing close on the other side, her lisp carrying over from her human form. “I’m thoaked and it’s windy. I should be cold.”
“Horses,” Skylark called back from the front of the group. “We’re little horses, we make a lot of heat. But less rain would be nice.”
“I think maybe I can help with that,” Darter said, from slightly behind his sister. “I don’t know if it will work, but it feels like it should.” That said, the dark grey pegasus half-spread his wings, his pace slowing as he concentrated. The group of friends slowed with him in their headlong rush, gathering around him, and Rowan aka Shield Maiden, saw crackling sparks begin to spread and grow along the silver tips of her friend’s wings. In almost instant response the rain pouring down on the group was lessened, and even the driving wind eased off.
“Way to go, Darter,” Shield Maiden, the group’s leader said. “How are you doing it?”
“Not really sure,” Darter said, his concentration on the magic he was running through his wings. “It’s sort of like I’m pushing everything to either side of us.”
“Well, keep doing it,” Shield Maiden said. “We’ll slow down a bit so you can keep up.”
Darter nodded and the group slowed down, but as the pegasus became more used to his task he was able to shift more of his concentration back to the world around him and the group sped up again. Five more minutes later the group of ponies was rewarded by hearing the growl of a chainsaw and seeing the muted glare of spotlamps up ahead. Charging forward, the youngsters passed the severed chunks of several trees that had been bucked into pieces and dragged or pushed off to the side of the road.
“Excuse me, Sir,” Shield Maiden said as they came up behind the fire chief, who was directing his men in getting yet another fallen tree off the road.
“Who the— “ the fire chief began, and as he spun the ponies could see it was Mayor Montcalm. “Oh, it’s you. I’m guessing you’re here to help?”
“Yes, sir,” Shield Maiden said, then broke off, shaking her head. “Wait, you know about us?” She and the ponies with her all wiped rain from their faces as they looked up at the mayor in surprise.
“Yup, saw you five running along the back road the other week, didn’t really trust my eyes then,” Montcalm said. “Kinda good to see I wasn’t going crazy. Anyway—”
“Darrell, these kids shouldn’t be here,” Arnold Kye said to the fire chief, having come up to see why orders had stopped coming and now surprised to see his son and the rest of the ponies clustered around him.
“Kids?” Darrell Montcalm, asked, looking Arnold in the eye with the authority of both of his offices. “I didn’t say anything about these being kids, and you’re reacting to them like you know them, am I right?”
“Um,” Arnold said, not wanting to outright lie to a man he respected. “Yes sir, I know them. Please don’t ask me how.” The other firemen had also stopped and were walking over, various expressions of surprise and disbelief coming from them. Except from Ernest Harding, who clasped his friend’s shoulder in support. Montcalm noticed the gesture, took it in, and after a moment's thought made a decision.
“Arnold, Ernie,” Montcalm said, his voice kind but firm as he noticed the wind and rain had eased off. “You know what’s going on, you know what can happen if we don’t get our jobs done in time. Give it to me straight, can they help?” The two men thought for a moment, responsibilities and obligations warring inside of them before Ernie answered, pride in his voice.
“Yes, Mr. Mayor,” Ernie said, decision made. “The Power Ponies can help.” Arnie half-smiled at his son, tilting his head in wordless request that he be careful. Iron Hoof just grinned back and ducked his head.
“Okay then,” Montcalm said, “We’re going to do this legal and properly, through established precedent here in Brightly.”
“There’s precedent for this?” one of the fireman asked, the name “John” stenciled on his gleaming wet firecoat.
“No time to explain, but yes,” Montcalm shot back, before turning back to the ponies in front of him. “Okay, raise your right...hoof, and repeat after me.” All five ponies dutifully raised a hoof. “I, your name, do solemnly swear to protect the community of Brightly, British Columbia, and its people, keeping them safe and warm with the fire of generosity that burns with us all. So help me God.” The ponies dutifully repeated back the oath, two of which ended it with what sounded suspiciously like something other than “God” but Darrell Montcalm had a pretty good idea whose children they were, so he let it slide.
“You are hereby officially deputized as rescue ponies,” Montcalm said to the group. “First off, you two with wings, I assume they aren’t for show?”
“No sir, we can fly,” Darter said, standing proud in his abilities.
“We need to get to the dam and close the floodgates,” Montcalm said, quickly sketching out the situation for the newcomers. “With the road blocked by fallen trees it’s going to take longer than we have. Can you fly one of us to the dam?” The pegasi siblings looked at each other and then back to the fire chief.
“I can carry the most weight,” Skylark said, hesitantly, “but I’ve never carried anything as heavy as you.” In the light of truck spotlamps the other fireman had restarted their task of chainsawing chunks out of fallen trees, the roar of the saws making it a little hard to talk.
“It won’t be me,” Montcalm said, before yelling at one of the other firemen. “Ben! Get over here, and bring your climbing harness and a breaking bar.” One of the other firemen, a tall lanky individual, put down the line he was moving from one tree trunk to another and made his way over to the pony group. As he passed a truck he pulled out a harness of some sort and a long metal bar from it.
“Whatcha need?” Ben, a young lean man said, tipping his fire helmet up and getting his first look at the ponies. “Whoa, okay...cool.”
“Focus, Ben,” Montcalm said, his stern voice leavened with understanding. “These ponies are with us. Miss...” His voice trailed off as he pointed to the female pegasus.
“Skylark, Sir,” the red-maned, black pegasus said. “I can probably fly with him but not much else.”
“Darter,” Shield Maiden said. “How about you go with them and carry the tools? You won’t be much help trying to clear the trees.”
“Good idea,” Montcalm said, smoothly taking charge without ruffling feathers. “You three get going, fast as you can. Ben, you know where the manual gate control is, so you need to be the guide, and don’t forget your radio. Skylark, Darter, do your best, but take the trip in sections if you have to. You won’t do anyone any good if you hurt yourselves trying to get Ben there too quickly. We’ll catch up as fast as we can. Got it?”
All three gave a quick “Yes, sir” and the two pegasi followed Ben to his truck. The lean young firefighter put several tools into a large duffel bag and strapped himself into his climbing harness. The siblings waited expectantly as Ben turned to them with the gear in hand, along with several strong carabiners and a length of rope.
“Um, is it okay, if I like, touch you to get hooked up?” Ben asked, nervous as Skylark instinctively shied away from him.
“We’re good, c’mon,” Darter said, urgency in his voice, anxious to take to the sky. “Let’s go, it’s hero time.” Ben nodded and clipped the strap of the duffel bag to a pair of D-rings on Darter’s harness.
“Are you okay with all this, um, Skylark?” Ben said, ignoring the eagerness of Darter. “I’m not going to hurt you, am I?”
“No, I’m just...” Skylark said, in a quiet voice and looking down a bit. “I’m a little scared, okay?” Ben’s heart went out to the cute pegasus in front of him, and he no longer saw a creature out of fantasy. He saw a little girl trying to be brave and strong, because she thought that was what was expected of her.
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said, hugging her and whispering into her ear. “It’s okay to be scared, I am all the time. Just do your best, that’s all anyone here will ever ask of you, okay?” He smiled and looked into the furry face before him, which slowly broke out into a smile to match his.
“Thank you,” Skylark said softly, then she cleared her throat and spoke in a louder voice. “If you can give me a couple of meters of space between us, that should be good.”
“Right,” Ben said, smiling as he roughly measured out the proper length of rope, and attached himself to Skylark with it, giving a few tugs to ensure it was secure. “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Okay, here we go. Please don’t wave yourself around,” Skylark said, lifting off the ground with powerful flaps of her wings.
She rose to the extent of the rope connecting her and her cargo, hanging there for a few moments, like a balloon at the end of its string. Then slowly, she began to lift Ben up into the air with her, Darter following suit at their side. The pair rose about five meters into the air, then turned and began to accelerate forward, heading down the road to the dam on the lake, easily staying above any fallen trees. As Darter left the area, those on the ground were once again welcomed by the full fury of the storm, pelting down rain on them as they struggled to move the trees out of the way of the trucks.
“There has got to be a better way to do this,” John said, frustrated. “You ponies got any ideas?”
“I could buck the trees into chunks,” Iron Hoof suggested. “I’ve busted up trees pretty close to a lot of these.”
“No!” Arnold Kye shouted, standing up from where he had just finished wrapping a winch cable around a trunk. “The last time you did that you cracked a hoof.” The others, except Ernie, all stopped to look at Arnold, surprised at his outburst.
“It’s how me and Ernie know the ponies,” Arnold said, improvising on the fly. “Iron Hoof cracked one of his hooves while kicking trees in half and we helped fix it for him...And he is NOT going to wreck that repair or do worse by kicking bigger trees in half.”
“But Da—” Iron Hoof aka Billy Kye began.
“Dang it all!” Shield Maiden shouted, to cover Iron Hoof almost blowing his cover. “Um, I think I might have an idea, that is.”
“Watcha got?” Ernie said, also realizing what had almost happened and changing the subject quickly.
“I can make a sort of force wedge, and if Iron Hoof bucks that instead—” Shield Maiden began.
“Then it will act like a splitting wedge, and it should protect Iron Hoof’s hoof,” Montcalm said, grinning at the doubled word. “We’ve got five more trees to clear, go for it.”
Concentrating, Shield Maiden summoned a narrow triangle of orange coloured force into being. The wide end was about thirty centimeters across, but the edge of the wedge tapered to an almost impossibly sharp edge, which rested perpendicular to the side of a fallen tree trunk. The fire crew all stopped what they were doing, amazed at something being created from thin air, to watch what happened next.
“Okay, Iron Hoof,” Shield Maiden said, rain making her mane and tail droop. “Go for it.”
Iron Hoof, his body also soaked through by the rain, lined himself up so that he could buck his side of the wedge with both of his rear hooves. With a “hah” of effort he kicked out both of his rear legs back in a classic double kick, his youthful aim true as both rear hooves struck dead center of the wedge, driving it into the side of the fallen fir.
The group had hoped that something would happen, that at the least, a deep gouge would be made into the trunk of the fallen tree. What was not expected was for the preternaturally sharp blade of the force wedge being driven clear through the entire thirty centimeter wide bole of the fallen tree. Steam rose from the splintered ends as kinetic energy translated into heat and the entire group raised a cheer for Iron Hoof.
“Way to go!” Fireman John said, clapping Iron Hoof on the shoulder. “Can you do it again?”
“I think so,” Iron Hoof replied after a quick check of his hooves and seeing no damage to them at all. A quick move of a few meters over, another double kick and Seeker was towing away the severed chunk of tree, leaving a neat pathway for the five vehicles in the team. It took barely ten minutes to clear a path through the four remaining fallen trees, and the fire chief paused to address everyone.
“Good work, everyone,” he said, the group smiling as one while they piled equipment back in the vehicles. “Ponies, one of you to a vehicle, please. Drivers, make sure they are strapped in, things could get rough.” People and ponies both scrambled to obey. Iron Hoof got in with his father, Seeker with Ernie Harding, and Shield Maiden rode in the SAR truck driven by Fireman John.
“Dad, I... we—” Iron Hoof, aka Billy Kye, began to his father as they started moving.
“Son,” Arnold said, cutting off his offspring, and doing his best not to be angry with his transformed child. “We’ll talk about this later, but for right now try to remember that you’re Iron Hoof, slayer of tree trunks, and not my son who I am both proud of and a little annoyed with. Okay?”
“Okay,” Iron Hoof replied, not sure if he should be scared or happy. As the small convoy continued to move forward Darrell Montcalm triggered the mike on his radio.
“Come in, Ben. Ben, it’s Chief Montcalm, come in,” Montcalm said into his radio mike, while he shifted gears as his truck cleared the last of the wooden obstacle. “Ben, if you can hear me, we’re past the fallen trees and are on our way. Ben, please respond.” Silence reigned for a few moments before static crackled and a wind-swept voice replied.
“Hey Chief,” Ben shouted into his radio, barely audible above the wind and rain. “Great to hear... We’ll be touching down at the dam any minute now. Sir... we have GOT to keep these ponies on the team. This is freakin’ awesome!”
“Worry about that later,” Montcalm said back, suppressing a grin at the younger man’s exuberance. “We’re about fifteen minutes behind you, unless we run into more problems. I want you to try to use the manual control to close the gate on the spillway. Got that?”
“Yes sir, I can see the dam now,” Ben reported. “I’ll get back to you once I get the spillway closed.”
“Good luck,” Montcalm said back into the radio. “And if you get a chance, check the microwave tower for damage.”
Ben Thompson signed off and looked up at his ride. He still couldn’t believe he had spent the past several minutes being carried through the air by a night black pegasus. He could see where the straps of her harness were digging into her body, but they were wide enough that his weight was being smoothly distributed. He looked down and saw they were barely a hundred meters from their goal.
“There!” he yelled back up at Skylark. “Set us down in the parking lot. More room for you to land.” Skylark didn’t reply but their course altered a bit, and a few seconds later his feet touched down in the small, rain swept parking lot for the dam and the small green space around it. Skylark herself touched her hooves to the ground moments later beside him, and a moment after that the pegasus who called himself “Darter” touched down on his other side. As he bent down to untether himself from Skylark she wobbled against him, almost falling.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asked the soaking wet pony, providing her support, and he could see that she was breathing heavily.
“S’okay,” Skylark gasped out to him, propping herself back up. “Just never carried so much, so far.”
“Go rest by the map,” Darter said to her, concern in his voice. He pointed a wing to a large wooden “You are here” map that had a small roof over it, creating a bit of shelter. Skylark nodded her thanks to Ben as he finished detaching himself from her harness and slowly made her way over to the small shelter, wings drooping.
“Is she gonna be okay?” Ben asked, bending down again to get his tool bag off of Darter.
“I think so,” Darter said, keeping his voice low, his wings still sparking as he used his pegasus powers to force back a portion of the storm. “We haven’t done this before, but we heard what was happening and had to come help.”
“I don’t know about the others, but I’m sure glad you came, “ Ben said, ruffling the wet mane of the pony as he shouldered the tool bag. “Come on, I’ve got the keys for the access gate.”
Unlocking the gate allowed the pair to pass through a chain link fence and walk onto the flat surface of the dam itself. Despite the wind and damp, their footing was sure, as the dam’s builders had ensured the walkway was roughened to provide a good grip no matter the weather. Despite that, Darter and Ben stepped carefully as their exposed position gave even the reduced wind ample purchase on their bodies, as it tried its best to sweep them off the dam. At last they came to a spoked metal wheel about the size of a steering wheel attached to a thick metal axle that descended vertically into the concrete of the dam itself.
“Right, this is the manual spillway control,” Ben said, to his furry companion as he quickly undid the anti-tamper lock on the metal wheel. “All we need to do is turn the wheel, lift the spillway gate and everything will be good.” Setting actions to words the young fireman put on a pair of gloves and heaved on the wheel, which didn’t budge an inch. Darter raised an eyebrow at Ben, who looked back.
“Okay then,” Ben said, determination large in his voice. “Time to use force.” He got out a large socket wrench, one without a ratchet mechanism and wedged it between the spokes of the wheel. Then, with the increased leverage, he heaved again and for long seconds it was as if he was a stone statue. After thirty seconds of supreme effort, he fell away from the wheel, panting for breath much as Skylark had earlier.
“What’s wrong?” Darter asked, worried.
“It’s been so long since anyone used the manual control, I think it’s rusted shut,” Ben said, rummaging in the tool bag and coming out with a can of WD-40. “Let’s give it a few shots with this, and then we’ll both hit it together.”
Darter smiled at that while Ben used liberal amounts of the famous fluid. As he waited for the liquid to hopefully penetrate the rust, he put a pipe, known as a “cheater” over the breaker bar, then wedged another breaker bar into the opposite side of the wheel and harnessed Darter to its end.
“Okay, Darter,” Ben said, breathing deeply to charge his system with oxygen. “When I give the word, you pull on your bar while I pull on mine and either we get that gate moving or we are gonna rip this wheel right off.”
“Yeah!” Darter shouted, pumping a hoof and then bracing himself. “Ready.”
“Okay, on three,” Ben said, leaning against the bar. “One, two, three.”
On the count both pony and person strained with everything they had, pulling with every ounce of muscle, sinew and magic they possessed. Once again, time passed as they strained at their task, until there was a sudden lessening of tension. Darter fell forward onto his chest, while Ben sprawled backwards, nearly falling off the dam. Only to be saved at the last second by Skylark, who had seen his peril and had streaked through the air to reach him, knocking him back onto the dam.
“Hey, great catch, we did it,” Ben said, scooping Skylark into a hug. “Thanks for saving my ass.”
“Um, Mister,” Darter said, holding up the fallen metal wheel so that Ben could see that the shaft itself had twisted and broken into two pieces, a sharp metal stump still poking up from the dam.
“Shit,” Ben said, cursing with feeling. “Water must have gotten into the seals, and the whole mechanism rusted and seized solid. The only way to move the gate on the spillway is with the separate remote systems.”
“What are we gonna do?” Skylark said, looking up at Ben glumly.
“We report in, is what we do,” Ben said, fishing out his radio. “Thompson to Montcalm, Thompson to Montcalm, come in.” A few moments later the voice of Darrell Montcalm, the fire chief came over the radio, and once again the snarl of a chainsaw could be heard in the background.
“Ben, thank God,” Montcalm said. “Tell me you’ve got the spillway gate in place.”
“Sorry sir, I’m afraid not,” Ben said, and the lack of response was deafening. “The whole mechanism must be rusted shut. Me and the ponies twisted the crank wheel right off the shaft without moving a thing.”
“Well, that’s not good,” Montcalm said, in as bleak a voice as Ben had ever heard from his chief. “We’re about two miles away and there’s a big old tree across the road. Must be a solid two meters across.”
“What can I do, sir?” Ben asked, as both ponies with him looked at him with worried faces.
“Check the microwave dishes, see if they’re okay,” Montcalm said. “We’ll be there as soon as we can, and we'll see if we can do something to help Hydro get that gate up, but if we can't, we may have to evacuate the town, and fast.”