//------------------------------// // 39. Trick or Treat. // Story: The Tale of Lord Barleycorn // by Blue Cultist //------------------------------// The Tale of Lord Barleycorn - - - - - - Chapter 39: Trick or Treat. --- Summer Harvest could feel his heart about to burst with joy. It had felt like an eternity under that looming shadow of foreclosure, and the thought of making it all up in one week was nearly incomprehensible. Yet, here he was sitting behind his market stall selling his wares at prices no one in Hollow Shades could afford. These tourists were carrying more money on them than most local ponies had in the bank, and they just kept coming. While the corn was looking to be the best thing on his table, Summer was surprised to see the pumpkins were becoming his best sellers. They were being bought by the pair by these out-of-towners for the sake of carving their own Jack-o’-Lanterns. Other ponies were buying pumpkins from other tables for the same reason, and their gooey innards were disappearing into Tablecloth’s for baking. The corn and the stunted carrots had sold poorly, though only for a while. Summer, and many of the other tables were surprisingly aided by a pair of enterprising woodsponies. They had rolled out a number of old metal rain barrels and were offering to barbeque anything brought to them for a single bit. Not long after they had set up shop the staff of Tablecloth had set up a similar operation, offering to deep fry vegetables. Since then, everything on Summer’s table was being bought for the sake of becoming the fair food the festival needed. A quick count of the bits in the cash box showed that Summer had made more in the past hour than he had in the entirety of last week! It felt like he was jinxing himself, but he was ready to believe his debt to the bank was going to be paid off on time! All around him Summer could see ponies that he didn’t recognize talking, eating, and either looking around with pity at the condition of the buildings, or admiring the Halloween decorations along the line of shops. The Jack-o’-lanterns and the cornhusk dolls drew much curiosity, but everypony was taking turns to closely marvel at the unique spider webs that garlanded the water tower. Through casual conversation with his customers, Summer Harvest had learned that these thrill-seekers had come for what had been they had understood to be a week-long Nightmare Night festival. The common questions he received were mostly concerning Lord Barleycorn. Summer would always politely decline to answer and made the gesture of respect with his forelegs; which he commonly had to explain to the newcomers. Most found the gesture quaint, though enough of them seemed to understand it for what it was. There was the occasional stallion or mare that would scoff at Summer’s assurances that Lord Barleycorn was a true spirit of autumn. Summer felt no offense at their disrespect and refrained from escalating the issue into an argument. He knew that these ponies would find out for themselves that the spirits of Everfree were quite real. The unexpected delay for the play was a godsend to Summer, which was allowing him to do business with these tourists without missing his little filly’s stage debut. He didn’t expect his little girl to make acting her career, but he knew he’d hate himself if he didn’t support Corn Crib. She’d been working so hard on this… a shame she didn’t put this much effort in her school work but he wasn’t about to complain. The scarecrow hadn’t been seen since he had retreated behind the curtain but he believed he was still back there, waiting patiently for everypony to settle in. On Summer’s request, Leadfoot had taken one of the carts back to the farm to pick up another load of their harvest from the barn. He didn’t care if he didn’t have anything left for seed the next year, if ponies kept buying like this he could just buy more seed. The young stallion was still a bit jittery from his experience in the woods, but seemed to welcome the idea of going back to a place that was familiar and safe. Summer just hoped his son wouldn’t feel so safe at the farmhouse that he’d just go to bed and not come back. The thought of sleep stirred a yawn from Summer’s throat, and he quickly reached for his coffee. Again, the staff at Tablecloth’s had thought ahead and made several pots for the benefit of ponies used to rising with the sun and going to bed before it again touched the horizon. Harvest Moon had made it a point to get some for the both of them, but even with the much needed caffeine she was looking very tired from a long day of excitement and social interaction. Another pony approached Summer’s table, and politely began to examine the corn. The idea of it being slathered in butter, wrapped in foil, and set over that roaring fire was tempting indeed. He’d had to live on his wife’s well-meaning but bland scrapings from the Everfree for so long he’d often thought of nibbling at his crops just to remember what flavor was like. But when he could sell an ear of corn for four bits a piece he reasoned he could hold off a little while longer. Besides, those pies over at Tablecloth’s were looking even more enticing than corn. "Uh, Ah’d like this here pumpkin." Summer knew who that voice belonged to before he’d even turned his head. There standing in front of his table was the mare who’d been an unwanted guest in his house. The way Applejack was trying to look at him without making eye contact only further irritated Summer. The least she could do was look him the eye while asking for one of his pumpkins. He didn’t want to do business with her, and he hastily came up with a way to get rid of her. "That’ll be ten bits." Summer said as he smugly waited for Applejack to be insulted at such a ridiculous price. Applejack didn’t skip a beat as she reached for her money, "Alright." Summer opened his mouth to accept her refusal, only to gawk at Applejack as she began to count ten gold coins and place them on the table. This had to be some sort of joke. For a moment Summer considered that this might be some attempt by Applejack to show off her family’s wealth, but he batted it away as quick as it came. The Apple family was many things but they were not the kind of ponies who thoughtlessly threw money around. Nevertheless, Summer soon resumed scowling at the young mare, "What, you’re not going to haggle?" "Nah, seemed like a good price to me." Applejack said plainly as she pulled a large pumpkin off the table. That was one of the most obvious lies Summer had ever heard. Even a little city filly would know that was a grossly overpriced sale. At any other table Applejack could have gotten four pumpkins for that many bits, and Summer refused to believe that Applejack was that gullible. "I don’t like charity." Summer snorted as he pushed the coins back toward Applejack. "Well, it ain’t," Applejack affirmed, shoving the bits back at Summer, "You said it cost that much, an’ Ah paid ya just that. Jus’ business is all." She paused as her attention was drawn to the stack of unhusked corn, "How much for an ear? It’s lookin’ like some of the best Ah’ve ever seen." "For you? Six bits an ear." Summer said, laying down another overblown price, "If you really feel it’s worth it." Again, Applejack casually reached into her bag and dropped more bits onto the table. Enough for two ears of corn at Summer’s marked up price. The amount of money Applejack had available was quickly becoming an insult in and of itself to Summer. His family had to scrape by, living hoof to mouth and here Applejack was tossing bits away like they was chicken feed. He frowned at the coins on the table, though he begrudgingly accepted them if only for the sake of his family’s future. "I’m not sure I can rightly take advantage of a mare who can’t recognize when she’s overpaying for corn." Said Summer, unable to resist a jab at Applejack’s expense. "But as they say, ‘a fool and her money are soon parted’." Applejack paused, but otherwise seemed unphased by Summer’s remark. If anything she seemed more disappointed than angry. "Y’know Summer," Applejack said with a light edge in her tone, "The more Ah think about mah time here the more Ah think there’s sumthin’ that needs ta be said..." Summer leaned across the table, "Oh yeah?" "Like admittin’ what we got in common." Applejack gestured to the corn, "We’re both good at growing food that ponies love, an’ we both got a lotta pride in our farms." Summer snorted, as if he needed to be told what was obvious. "Ah ain’t heard much about yer grandpappy before Ah came here, but Ah gotta admit it took a lotta gumption to strike out on his own like he did." Applejack said, "Ya got every right to be proud of what yer family built." Summer’s frown grew, he was getting tired of this facade of a conversation, "What exactly are you getting at?" "Ah’m sayin’ Ah ain’t never gonna try an’ take that away from ya." Applejack began to gather up the corn she had purchased and carefully piled them onto her back, the pumpkin soon joining them, "Course’ if’n ya need more ta feel better about yerself, Ah’m kinda jealous of yer filly for gettin’ to meet a bonafide spirit." With that said, Applejack politely tipped her hat and left before Summer could form a response. While Summer was pleased that she was gone, he was at a loss to explain what had just happened. Granny Smith’s arrogant little grandfilly had just walked up to his table, overpaid for his produce, and… complimented him? The farmer sat down, busying himself by counting Applejack’s coins and placing them in the cashbox. Still, he couldn’t help but feel as if she’d taken some of the wind out of his sails. It would have been simpler if she’d just started another shouting match with him. Summer sighed, at least he was that much closer to paying off the bank. --- The play’s delay had given Rainbow Dash her an excuse to slip away from her friends. While she felt concern for Pinkie’s health, she knew better than to be truly worried. Rainbow had personally seen the pink mare dump packets of sugar into her soda and then eat cake and ice cream. If that kind of sugar intake wouldn’t hurt Pinkie, there was no way a pint of beer was going to kill her. The entire time she had been sitting with Pinkie and Maud, Rainbow’s attention had kept drifting to the clinic’s door. She had been keeping an eye on it since she had come back from sulking behind the barber shop. Something had told her that the doctor still inside, brooding. Rainbow did not require any sort of Pinkie Sense to know that Cherry Nova was likely drinking from some supply of liquor at that very moment. If that was true, then her chances of talking to him like a civilized pony were growing thinner by the minute. One last look back at Pinkie was required to calm Rainbow’s nerves. She saw Pinkie leaning against Maud, looking like she was about to go to sleep. Rainbow filed this image away for later mischief. If all it took to derail Pinkie’s limitless energy was one glass of beer, then she might have discovered Pinkie’s ‘off-switch.’ The cowl of the flight suit bounced against Rainbow’s neck as she strode to the boardwalk outside of Cherry’s clinic. She hesitated at the doorknob, and cautiously pressed her ear to the door for a moment. Several seconds passed and Rainbow heard nothing from inside. Rainbow wasn’t sure what exactly she was expecting to hear, but at last she slowly turned the knob and quietly pushed the door open. Part of Rainbow had clenched as the door stood open, ready for some explosion of hostility as she lingered at the threshold, but nothing came. After taking a breath to steady herself, the mare stuck her head inside. A single candle was burning in the back of the clinic, allowing Rainbow to see Cherry sitting at his disaster of a work desk. He was leaning back in his chair, his head resting on the back as he stared up at the ceiling. She first thought he was sleeping, but she could see his lips moving, and a glint from the candle allowed her to see his eyes were wide open. It wasn’t until Rainbow had shut the door behind her that she realized how loud it was outside. The silence of clinic must have made her entry seem like a alarm clock going off, but Cherry hadn’t reacted in any discernible way. Once her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she spotted the bottle resting on Cherry’s desk, an empty one. Rainbow’s lip curled into an annoyed frown, and stalked toward the back of the one-room building. Cherry didn’t move in his chair, but Rainbow could see his eyes following her. When she was nearly standing in front of the desk Cherry let out a quiet groan and closed his eyes, as if he was attempting to wish her away. "Dumb suit..." Cherry mumbled quietly to himself, "If it wasn’t fire resistant I’d have burned it instead of throwing it in the trash… didn’t take that antique nag fer a dumpster diver… an’ of course she had to find it..." It was directionless rambling, something Rainbow knew was a result from heavy drinking. Now that she was closer, she saw the emptied bottle was marked ‘Gryphonne Elder Mountain’ brand vodka. Not something she’d expect to find in a backwater town like this. Rainbow was not a heavy drinker. She liked cider and the occasional beer, and had occasionally tried stronger alcohols, but gryphon vodka was something she was reluctant to touch due to its near-mythical potency. Even in small amounts it was a strong drink, and it had gained a reputation of putting ponies in the hospital after they had accidentally over-indulged. There was some clues however that the doctor had not foolishly drained the entire bottle. The label was noticeably old and faded, and a thick cake of dust clung to the outside of the glass. More telling was the rings that had formed along the inside of the bottle throughout a great many years between drinks. The doctor had kept this one bottle for a very long time, and only brought it out for special occasions. Now convinced that the doctor was only drunk and not dying of alcohol poisoning, Rainbow felt she was confident enough to do what she came to do. Cherry’s eyes were drawn to the mare as she worked her way out out the flightsuit. The sky blue of her coat emerging as the elastic material was pulled off of her frame. If he was a bit more sober, Cherry might have wondered how that old rag didn’t look baggy on a scrawny filly after being neglected for so many years. Finally, Rainbow kicked her hind legs free of the suit, then proceeded to gingerly gather it up, turn the legs right-side-out, and fold it in proper Wonderbolt fashion. With a flick of her wing, Rainbow tossed the white bundle onto Cherry’s desk. The doctor’s eyes seemed delayed as he kept staring at Rainbow Dash before addressing the folded suit. His chair creaked horribly as he leaned forward, looking at it like he was not sure if it was real or not. Slowly, his eyes seemed to harden and regain some measure of lucidity. "What’re you up to?" Cherry croaked. Rainbow was a little surprised at such a pointed question from the mouth of a drunk, but she didn’t lose an ounce of her determination. "What’s it look like," Rainbow frowned, "I’m giving it back. It’s your suit ain’t it?" Cherry looked down, his brow furrowing as he reached out and turned the bundle over. There staring back at him from the flank of the suit was the old stage-mark he picked when he was an edgy young colt freshly thrown out from the Academy. An exaggerated declaration of him taking the world by the teeth and never letting go. With a tired rasp of a sigh he leaned back in his chair and pushed it toward Rainbow, knocking the empty bottle on its side. "Not anymore." Cherry stated somberly as he returned to staring at the ceiling, "Do whatever you want with it. I just don’t want to see it ever again." Rainbow fumed, she’d spent all this time worrying and this was his reaction? Curling up in the dark and hiding in a bottle? He didn’t even so much as grumble at her. The stunt flier she knew would have spat in her face and called her all the names in the book before throwing her out on her flank. That stallion had fire, but all she could see was something so pathetic she couldn’t put a name to it. She didn’t want the suit anymore. "And I used to think you were the best..." Rainbow spat with sarcastic condemnation. "Was I?" Cherry asked, seemingly oblivious to Rainbow’s vitriol. The question hit a nerve for Rainbow Dash, one that caused her to speak without even thinking. "Darn right you were! How many Academy dropouts say they’re going to be the better than anypony else and actually follow through? You even said yourself in an interview that you wanted ‘To show the world the Wonderbolts have become a bunch of old nags who’d prefer to knit than push the envelope’.” Cherry focused his attention back on her, his eyes narrowing and showing a measure of the same anger she had seen earlier that day, but now it was cold and channeled directly at Rainbow. "This from the mare who can’t stop glorifying those nags." He snorted, "This may be a dirt-farming zombie of a town but we still get newspapers. I read about you winning the Best Young Flyer Competition and how you kept going on about how you were going to be the greatest Wonderbolt since Firefly herself." Cherry leaned against the desk with one leg, resting his head on his hoof, "Why do you want to join them, exactly?" Rainbow had not been expecting him to fire back at her so coherent. Perhaps the doctor had built up some immunity or maybe he was just made of something tougher than the mares who hung around Berry Punch’s establishment. "Because they’re the best fliers around." Rainbow said plainly, then quickly added, "These days..." Cherry rolled his eyes, "Whatever. Tell me missy, who do you think is the Wonderbolt with the most money?" Rainbow was a little put off by this strange diversion, but decided to humor the inebriated stallion and shrugged, "I don’t know, Spitfire I guess? She’s the team leader after all." Cherry gave Rainbow a patronizing smile and shook his head. "Second place, at best." Cherry Nova said, "Fleetfoot’s raking in the cash through endorsement deals. She hocks some company’s product or service and she gets paid that on top of what the Wonderbolt stipend she gets. If she’s got an ounce of brains she’s already saved enough to be set for life." Rainbow was surprised to hear this, "How would you know that?" "Please, she’s in the papers sometimes shilling for Barnyard Bargains or whatever." Cherry’s vision drifted down to the desk, seeming to unfocus a little as if the alcohol was catching up with him, "An’ ‘course I’d know… I used to have those sorta deals too. Saved every bit I got. Then just one mistake… boom. Wasn’t even outta the hospital before they dropped me. Tried ta make Reckless Abandon into the next face of  the Phoenix Brigade." This revelation left Rainbow stunned. She knew from the old newspaper clippings that Reckless was one of the pegasi put forward to try and replace Crimson, but had never thought they tried to throw him under the cart so quickly. The whole thing was a little too similar to what had happened at Rainbow Falls, where the Wonderbolts had tried to dump Soarin because of an injury. This revelation left a sour taste in her mouth. If she joined the Wonderbolts, would they do the same to her if she made a mistake? Cherry continued to mumble angrily to himself, his hoof pressing so hard into the desk that the wood began to creak, "Didn’t even look in on me while I was in physical therapy. Kept followin’ the money like a pig with a carrot held just outta reach of his nose… Kept up with them in the papers to see ‘em gettin’ sloppy. Finally stopped readin’ when they announced they were gonna start playin’ safe to get insurance deals." He laughed bitterly, "’Course, later on I heard the Brigade coughed and rolled over dead when they couldn’t bring in the crowds with gutless tricks. With no crowds those parasite sponsors packed up and left ‘em in the lurch." He jerked his head up, startling Rainbow as he glared at her, "An’ that’s when they came back to me. They all wanted to patch things up an’ get me to help manage the show in some way but I let ‘em know where I stood. Didn’t get so much of a cheap ‘Get Well’ card outta them when I was laid up so I told them where they could put their ‘sorry’s. Wasn’t like I could fly with this useless wing anyway." Cherry extended the offending wing and scowled at it, his eyes following as part of it sagged with the rough motion. "Lucky for me I was smart and saved my money in case I needed some big operation." Cherry settled back in his chair, and let his wing drop at his side, "Started studying medicine, tryin’ to find a way to could replace the bones the doctors removed. Eight years an’ all I got to show for it was a doctorate an’ a lotta specialist training that I can’t use." "Did you ever find a… fix for your wing?" Rainbow asked, hoping there might be a way to help him. If not her, then maybe Twilight. "What do you think?" Cherry snapped, "Ain’t nothin’ getting me off the ground ever again. ‘Cept the stuff I drink. It’s also why I got shunted to this dirt-farmin’ town… nopony wanted me back in Cloudsdale General..." Cherry leaned back in his chair, chest heaving as he closed his eyes. The stallion seemed older than before in Rainbow’s eyes, the creases under his eyes more pronounced and his brow showing signs of furrowed wrinkles. Slowly, he cracked open his eyes and shoved the suit toward Rainbow, letting it hit the floor at her hooves. "If you get into the Wonderbolts, save your money like I did. If your teammates backstab you, you at least have something to fall back on." Cherry said, "And the suit’s yours. I never want to see it again." --- Jack peeked out from behind the curtain for the third time, and he still couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He had anticipated a trickling of ponies arriving by the afternoon of the next day. The sight of so many crowding the main road at this late hour had far exceeded his expectations. The fact that so many had chosen to travel so late left Jack feeling a little mystified. The ponies from outside the boundaries of this ancient town found the forest frightening and unnatural, so why would they travel the long walk here past nightfall? The only answer that made sense was a want, an eagerness to see real ghosts. Jack reasoned that if these ponies were afraid of the forest, then what he’d seen might make them keel over. What he could be certain was that no one would leave their homes at this hour to see some one-horse-town play put on by children. Jack closed the curtain and stepped back, not wanting to be observed by the audience just yet. Already many newcomers had tried to peek around the curtain to see the ‘strange scarecrow thing.’ Thankfully, Rarity had shooed these ponies away before they got more than a glimpse of him. He’d hoped to remain enigmatic until curtain time. These nosey ponies’ words and marked flippant ‘disrespect’ for his spectral character had reminded Jack that Hollow Shades was a backward town, while the rest of Equestria held none of its superstitions. It would be much harder to sell himself as a spiritual king to these ‘city folk,’ even with the residents reinforcing his claims. "First impressions are lasting impressions... " Jack mumbled to himself, "Still, I didn’t expect so many so quickly." Carrot Top, who had remained close to Jack’s side, tilted her head upon hearing him and pressed her hoof to his leg to gain his attention. She couldn’t dare speak a word or risk being identified by Corn Crib, Rarity, or anypony else within earshot. Yet without the freedom of speech, she was able to communicate her full support for Jack by sitting up on her haunches and offering him a hug. Jack chuckled and shook his head as he took Carrot Top’s outstretched hoof and eased her back down to all fours. "Thanks, but that’s not necessary. I was just surprised, that’s all. But I suppose there’s no sense in putting it off any longer, right?" Carrot Top nodded. Jack looked across the stage, easily finding the stark white mare who was keeping herself busy by conversing with Fluttershy and the barber ponies. "Ms. Rarity," Jack called out, quickly gaining the mare’s attention, "I’m afraid our little delay has let the audience wander away from us. I’ll be heading out to bring them all back their seats, so if you’d please make sure everypony’s in their place we’ll get things started shortly." Rarity answered with a brief yet elegant bow of her head, and politely excused herself from the company of the quartet. "Gather ‘round children," Rarity announced, "It’s time for final preparations, let’s not dawdle." Beyond Rarity, Jack could see Corn Crib who was pulling her black robe tightly around herself. The poor filly was looking a bit cold, but he couldn’t blame her. The air was getting a little chilly, though the other ponies seemed no worse for ware. Perhaps the filly was still stricken with stage fright? Jack let out a loud breath, as much as he’d like to sit down and console her, there was simply no time for that. She’d have to stand on her own four hooves, he couldn’t fight every battle for her. Retrieving his borrowed violin and bow from their resting place, Jack pulled the curtain back and gave Carrot Top one last glance before stepping out onto the stage. No sooner has Jack stepped out he could feel a change in the air as dozens of eyes lock onto him. It only took him several seconds to walk to center stage, but it was more than enough to survey the crowd and begin gauging its temperament. The ponies in the first three rows all had the slightly disheveled look of local residents of Hollow Shades, some he recognized and some he didn’t. They were clearly eager to see the foals put on the play or they simply wanted to be near the Autumnal King. The moment they met his gaze they averted their eyes and greeted ‘Lord Barleycorn’ with a polite crossing of their forelegs. The rows beyond these loyal rustics were a mixed bag. Seating was readily available, with only a few ponies sitting here and there, and looking as if they were resting rather than actively waiting for the play. These ponies did not look as if they just dragged themselves off the farm, the clear look of equines not native to Hollow Shades. These were the ponies that gawked at Jack with a mixture of confusion and amusement. They were not sure what to make of the gangly creature in rags as he stood below the stage lights. The ambient chatter had nearly vanished by now, and the locals in the road were urging their visitors to come with them and join the the audience for the play. However, Jack could see the non-residents were choosing to join the rear of the audience out of quaint amusement or bored curiosity more than anything else. Worse, several openly pointed and laughed at him, though these hecklers were quietly admonished. Not every newcomer had chosen to join the audience. Jack could see a dozen or so ponies that were ignoring him altogether. They were more interested in carrying on the conversations they had been previously engaged in, others were enjoying the food they purchased, and others were perusing the shops and produce tables. While they were spending their money as he’d hoped, Jack needed to grab their attention for the good of the play and his own character. He just hoped what he had in mind didn’t upstage the kids. Jack loudly cleared his throat, quieting much of the whispering of the audience. He had been given plenty of time to ponder which should come first, a song or a speech. The fact that some were still ignoring him definitively proved that he needed to do something to grab their attention. For a moment Jack closed his eyes and took a breath as he brought the violin under his chin. It had been awhile since he had played for a crowd of this size, regardless of species. Threat from forest ghosts or not, he’d do as he’d always done since waking up in this crazy world: try his darndest and hope for the best. The song Jack had chosen to play was another favorite from his youth, one he could put his heart into. Now comfortable beneath the stage lights, Jack again filled the main streets of Hollow Shades with the tranquil sounds of his borrowed instrument. Whatever conversations that had persisted were forgotten as his hand guided bow over string, surprising and enrapturing his listeners. Jack smiled as he played, surely the ponies who’d laughed had expected him to play some twangy country song. Granted this song was as out of place in Hollow Shades as it was in… he shook his head. No need to think about that now. Jack cast his attention back to the sea of eyes before him. As he kept playing he allowed himself a quiet chuckle, he’d never seen so many mouths hanging open. If only these ponies knew he was playing a song from a video game… if they knew what one was, that is. A loud thump from the direction of the Rusty Nail stole the attention of the audience, though Jack continued to play. Ponies that had been standing outside the bar, listening to his impromptu performance scattered into the street as the sound of something heavy being dragged across the wooden floor threatened to ruin the ambiance the young man had created. To everypony’s surprise, the old piano slowly emerged from the door without any earthly assistance, and proceeded to roll itself out onto the boardwalk. Jack had kept the song going through only his extreme familiarity with its notes, and could only stare in wonder as the piano began to play without any musician at its keys. The part-time residents of the bar began to make gestures of supplication to the bewitched piano, and whispers began to rise in the crowd about what they were seeing. Jack himself was just as perplexed as everypony else. He was just as surprised to see the piano move and operate of its own accord, but Jack quickly concluded that the same spirits who had threatened him in the forest were up to some mischief. Exactly why they sought to make this a duet was the part he couldn’t quite understand. At least the spirits had seen fit to tune the poor thing. When Jack had ran his fingers across its ivories he’d concluded it had been so out of tune it was developing a unique sound of its own. Now from the wooden lungs of the piano came music that was elegant and harmonious, as if every chord was perfectly tuned. Yet, although the melody coming from the piano was entirely complementary to his song, it was not the piece that Jack was attempting to play. Seeing no other option but to play along, he continued for the sake of his audience and this spectral musician’s ego. For what had to be improvised noodling, the unseen pianist was keeping an impressive pace as Jack’s violin sang loudly and clearly. To say he was impressed was an understatement, knowing that if their roles were reversed he would have fallen flat on his face by the fifth measure. The longer the song went on, the more Jack wondered if he should have chosen a more complicated song. The piano was effortlessly keeping up with him, never faltering or striking a note that seemed out of place. It was as if he was playing with a grandmaster pianist, one he was having a lot of fun playing with. Sadly, the song was swiftly drawing to a close. Just as Jack played the final chords, the piano continued for several measures as if it wanted to get in the last word before it too tapered off into silence. The audience had been rendered speechless by the unexpected performance. It took everypony a full minute to move, with the audience’s attention drifting from the ghostly piano, to the violinist in rags, then back to the piano. Jack kept the violin to his chin, expecting the mysterious pianist to try to prompt him into another song. He had to believe these spirits didn’t push that heavy thing out in the street just to play a single duet with him… The hushed conversations that had begun to form in the wake of the ghostly duet were forgotten when a new collection of sounds came to the ear of every listener. From everywhere and nowhere rose the melodic music of a multitude of tinkling bells and pan flutes, intermixed with the sounds of happy, playing foals. All was soft and indistinct, as if these noises were being heard from far away, yet the ponies on the boardwalk heard them just the same as those by the stage. All as one the crowd began to huddle together in some primeval method of protection from danger. Those near the buildings backed themselves against the walls in a futile attempt to prevent whatever was making that ghostly noise from sneaking up on them. The only pony who looked completely unafraid was Maud, who still wore the same stone-faced look of indifference she had worn throughout Jack’s performance. She still sat near Pinkie, who was leaning heavily against her as she stared up above the crowd. One mare in the crowd became aware of shadows dancing on the ground, and wordlessly pointed them out. Along the storefronts and stretched along the ground were the faint shadows of ponies, or things that looked like ponies rushing hither and thither and smiling as if in the midst of some great revelry. The eyes that found the shadows soon found the light that cast them. Suspended above the audience were the same twinkling lights that Jack had seen back in the forest. Each one a mote of gentle light no bigger than a grain of sand, beautiful to behold. The laughter rose in in a burst which rolled across the town, and the lights seemed to shine brighter for an instant as if these specters had noticed the astonished ponies below and found them amusing. A peek at his left saw the faces of Rarity and the foals, all of whom were just as awestruck at the crowd as they gasped and pointed at the lights. Rarity herself was quite the sight, with her mouth hanging open and her eyes bugged out. It reminded Jack of when he’d met the foals’ school teacher for the first time. Carrot Top in her disguise had fallen on her rump, unable to look away from the lights. The sheer realization that the spirits were real hadn’t quite set in but now, she felt the full weight of her promise to her friend. All at once all the old doubt she had in those old stories were gone. How could she not believe when the evidence was right in front of her eyes? The lights and laughter lasted only a few seconds more. The delicate lights softly faded into the night air like the stars at day break, leaving the spellbound ponies searching all around them for any further sign of hauntings. Many were afraid to speak, though just as many ready to express their amazement at what they had just witnessed. Many of them jumped when Jack loudly clapped his hands. Although the sleeves hung nearly a whole hand’s length past his fingers, the force with which he brought them together might as well have been a gunshot in the near-silence. "Here you see that marvelous things can spring forth from the most humble origins." Jack said, summoning his stage voice to project across the audience, "I hope this has enlightened all of you to the true nature of this wondrous place. Some of the old magic has come to lay in the hidden and forgotten places of the world, and here in Hollow Shades a sliver of that power has come to rest. It beckons the curious to come closer, and the brave to enter the dark, and so many I see have answered that call. I welcome you all to this enchanted night." Every single pony had their ears swiveled toward Jack as to catch every word. Even the ones that had laughed were looking at him with a new sort of awe. However, rather than excited the crowd seemed as tense as a clenched fist, as if they expected another ghostly surprise from him. Jack removed his straw hat and bowed as regally as he could, "I am Lord Barleycorn, Sovereign of Autumn, third of the Seasonal Lords, King of Pumpkins and Scarecrows, Protector of Foals, and Keeper of Promises. I welcome every one of you to Halloween, the festival of spirits." "Tonight, and every night this week you may see strange things," said Jack, a bright smile visible beneath his mask. "You may be surprised, astounded, or even frightened, but know that this is only the doing of merry spirits playing games." He said, "For even now as I speak the veil between this world and the next grows thin as a white lie, and even I cannot say what may greet you after the sun has set. I trust you all to be on your best behavior should something cross your path; a gust of wind, an odd shadow, something in the corner of your eye… the ghosts of the Everfree are already here, and they are here to have fun!" The crowd slowly was beginning to ease up, seeming to trust Lord Barleycorn, at least tentatively. "For now, let’s all enjoy the play that was advertised," Jack gestured to the foals who had unintentionally stepped out from behind the curtain, "They’ve put quite the effort into this production, with a little help here and there. I just you all to keep an open mind, and to enjoy yourselves. There will be more fun and merriment to come." Jack then looked straight at the school teacher Mr. Stockholm, who he saw hiding in the third row. "And I would hope their schoolmaster would accept this as a group project, I know the foals were meant to create something for their art project?" Jack chuckled, oh to have this sort of power over his old teachers. The old stallion dumbly nodded his head, looking like he had a knife to his throat. "Excellent. Then please allow me to get off the stage." Jack again tipped his hat to the audience and began to step toward the opposite end of the curtain, "And please enjoy the production of Trick or Treat… and I wish you all a Happy Halloween!" Jack stepped out of sight of the crowd, and a look across the wooden stage saw that the barber ponies were warming up their voices. He was surprised to see Ms. Fluttershy there, gargling what looked like mouthwash. She hadn’t seemed like the type who had the heart to sing on stage, but if she was, good for her. At last, the curtain was pulled back, and the quartet began to sing… "Trick or Treat~" --- To be continued… ---