Her wings aching from the exertion of the day, Daring landed in front of the Apple Pie and together, she and Phillip pushed through the door. The Apple Pie was in full swing for the beginning of the evening: most of the tables were occupied and the sound of music and chattering filled their ears. A jenny and donkey couple were up on the stage, doing a boogie-woogie duet on piano and electric guitar. Pinkie Pie was floating from one table to the next, taking orders and trading jokes, laughter following in her wake. Despite her weariness and the still-lingering cold shock of what she had just gone through, Daring found herself slightly smiling; the atmosphere was just too positive and electric to not feel good.
Pausing at the door to shake themselves off, Phillip and Daring proceeded to the bar. Applejack was behind it talking to Steamed Carrot, who had stepped out of the kitchen. Both mares looked up at the detectives’ approach.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with you two,” Applejack scowled, walking up to them. “Pinkie told me about Mint Breeze, that friend of yours.”
Daring glared at Phillip. “Discreet, huh?”
“I have a right to know what goes on in my own business,” Applejack replied. “What in Sam Hill were you thinking, bringing a mob witness here to hide? You couldn’t have taken him to your place or something?”
“Too obvious,” Phillip replied flatly.
“You’re putting my customers and my friends at risk!” Applejack snapped. “What do you think’s gonna happen when Monopoly or Whitestone or Silvertongue and his goons come in here and start shooting the place up? You think Steamed over here is gonna fight them off?!” She pointed at Steamed, who flinched.
“I like him,” Steamed said quietly, looking at the ground. “He’s actually pretty nice, and—”
“Being nice don’t mean he’s not dangerous,” Applejack cut her off.
“Don’t get crook, AJ,” Phillip said. “We’ll get him out of your hair pronto.”
“You’d better,” AJ grunted. “I keep Bessie around for a reason, but I’m not up for tempting fate.”
“Who’s Bessie?” Daring asked.
AJ reached underneath the bar and produced an old but well-polished double-barrelled shotgun. “This is Bessie,” AJ said, putting the weapon back underneath the bar. “I might like looking for the best in ponies, but that don’t mean I’m stupid.”
“Wise,” Phillip commented.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Daring suddenly said, looking up. Mint Breeze had just walked into the tavern from the stairs leading up to the bedrooms on the second floor. He tugged his coat around his form and looked around, licking his lips.
Daring quickly walked up to him. “Are you nuts?” she hissed. “You have to stay out of sight!”
Mint Breeze blinked at her, and for a moment, didn’t seem to recognize her, or realize that she was speaking to him. But the moment quickly passed and he shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just...it was boring sitting up in my room by myself, and I was hungry…”
Daring grabbed him by the foreleg and guided him to the kitchen, walking at a quick but casual pace to avoid attention. They passed through the swinging doors into the Apple Pie’s kitchen, followed by Phillip.
Steamed Carrot nervously stuck her head in through the doorway. “You said you were hungry?” she asked Mint, preferring to look at the floor instead of at him. “Do you want me to make you something real quick?”
“Uh, maybe just something real quick,” Mint Breeze nodded, digging into a pocket. He took out a tin of dip and pulled out a small piece, popping it into his mouth and chewing hard. “Hungry,” he muttered distractedly.
The thought of cooking seemed to make Steamed Carrot perk up enough to lift her head and look at her customers. “What about you two?” she asked Phillip and Daring.
Phillip and Daring’s stomachs both grumbled at the offer of food, reminding them both that they hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. Steamed giggled quietly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she said. “I think I’ve still got the stuff to make my famous five-minute egg foo yong with mushroom sauce!” She walked over to the griddle and set to work, humming quietly.
Daring pulled the folder of notes out from beneath her shirt and handed it to Mint. “Can you read any of this?” she asked.
Mint Breeze took the notes and looked them over. “You found them, good,” he nodded. “What took you so long?”
“Ran into some other ponies who wanted them,” Daring said. “Can you read that shit or not?”
“Well, I can,” Mint Breeze said, his eyes on the sheaves of papers. But Phillip noticed that his hooves were shaking slightly, and his eyes kept sliding out of focus. He chewed maniacally at the dip as he spoke.
“You okay?” he asked.
“J-just hungry...withdrawing,” Mint Breeze said, shaking his head. “I need my dip fix.” He forced himself to refocus. “Okay, this is in a code, but I know how to break it. I’m gonna need some time by myself, though.”
“Just tell us how to break it, we can do it ourselves,” Daring said impatiently.
“No!” Mint Breeze cried, suddenly jerking the papers away from them. There was a clattering from the griddle and everypony looked up to see that Steamed had dropped her spatula in fright in reaction to the raised voice. She stared at Mint Breeze, her eyes wide and her chest rapidly rising and falling.
Mint Breeze flinched. “I-I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he whispered, looking away.
Steamed Carrot forced a smile on her face. “No, no, it’s okay!” she chirped unconvincingly. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” She turned back to the griddle and went back to work, moving at a rather frantic, hurried pace.
Mint Breeze turned back to Phillip and Daring. “I would if I could, but…” He sighed and turned back to the kitchen door for a moment. He started shaking even harder now, biting down on his lip. “Hungry…” he whimpered.
“Mint, we need you to focus,” Phillip said, laying a hoof on his shoulder.
“Sorry!” Mint Breeze said, shaking his head. “Anyway, I—”
The conversation was interrupted by Applejack sticking her head in through the kitchen door. “Keep him in here and stay quiet,” she hissed, then pulled her head back out.
“What’s going on?” Phillip muttered. Gesturing for the others to stay back, he walked up to the door and peeked out.
A tall green earth pony stallion with black hair and green eyes was standing at the bar, leaning forward slightly. He was wearing a light brown trench coat, open at the top, and had a dark gray fedora sitting on the bar in front of him.
“No, I’m sorry, sir,” Applejack was saying, her voice casual but strained. “I don’t know anypony named Mint Breeze.”
“Look, I’m real concerned for my friend here,” the stallion said, sincerity practically dripping off his barbed tongue. “If you’ve heard anything about him—”
“Nope,” AJ said, shaking her head and snatching up an already-pristine glass and starting to polish it. “Haven’t seen him.”
“But I have heard about Mint Breeze™, the new breath mint that’s been crowding shelves everywhere!” Pinkie Pie chirped, sliding into the scene and draping an arm around the stranger. She pulled out a tin labeled Mint Breeze and flashed it to the audience with a huge grin. “Mint Breeze™ can quickly take care of the nastiest bad breath, making it a cool way to break the ice!” Pinkie Pie continued. She opened up the tin and held out the box of mints to the stallion. “Here, try one!”
The stallion stared at Pinkie with an expression of complete bewilderment. “Dude, seriously, take one,” Pinkie Pie said.
The stallion just grunted and turned back to AJ. “Listen, I don’t think you know what’s at stake here,” he started to say.
“I think I’m beginning to,” Applejack replied coolly, one hoof slowly reaching for Bessie.
Phillip looked back inside the kitchen. Steamed Carrot, having apparently realized the danger, was crouched down in a fetal position underneath the griddle, covering her head with her hooves and whimpering quietly. Daring was crouched in front of her, holding her hoof with one of her own, the other gripping her kusarifundo, glaring at the door.
But Mint Breeze was now pacing in a small circle, shaking even harder than before. His teeth were gritted and his eyes were wide, unfocused on anything.
“Mint, get under the table,” Phillip instructed him.
“I’m hungry,” Mint Breeze muttered, licking his lips and jerking his head in an insect-like motion. “I’m hungry, I’m hungry…”
“Mint, get under the table!” Phillip repeated more firmly.
Mint’s response was to whirl around and hiss at Phillip. Phillip flinched, fixing his gaze on Mint’s eyes. His pupils had suddenly become vertical and his eyes a washed-out blue.
Phillip’s eyes went to the box of chewing tobacco, and something in his mind clicked. He knew what had happened to Headline Jot, he knew who had faked the crime scenes, and he knew why both Headline Jot and Mint Breeze liked Black Bear chewing tobacco. And he knew what he was facing.
“Daring, Steamed, get away from it!” he warned.
“What the hell is—?” Daring started to say, but then cried out in shock as Mint Breeze was suddenly consumed with emerald flames.
A moment later, the flames vanished, and Mint Breeze was replaced by what looked like a cross between a bug and a pony. It had a shiny, black, almost shell-like skin, a curved horn, and transparent blue-green insectoid wings. It had spiky blue hair and a short tail, and its eyes were a bright solid pupilless blue. It hissed at Phillip, revealing a long tongue and fangs.
“Changeling!” Daring cried, her face blanching as she scrambled away from the beast.
With a snarl, the changeling flung itself at Phillip, who ducked. The changeling flew through the swinging doors into the tavern and landed on top of the bar, hissing. The music and chatter were immediately replaced with screams of terrors as patrons and employees ran for the exits or dove underneath their tables.
“Luna fuck me!” the stallion in the trenchcoat cried out, reeling away from the creature. He reached into his coat and extracted a large pistol, firing a wild shot at the changeling that completely missed.
“Feed!” the changeling snarled, diving off the bar and onto the thug, biting down onto his neck. The thug let out a scream of pain and fear, flailing and struggling beneath the changeling, pounding futilely against his hardened hide. The changeling clung to him, growling like a rabid animal as he sucked at the wound. Within seconds, the stallion’s struggling slowed and ceased and he went limp, staring up at the ceiling.
The thing that had been Mint Breeze suddenly drew back, mouth hanging open. Shock was displayed across its face; it stared around at the tavern, its eyes widening as he saw all the ponies fleeing from it in terror.
“No, no, no, no, no…” it whimpered in a low, buzzing voice. It seemed to cower, lowering its head and looking around, panting.
Recovering from the shock, AJ drew Bessie from underneath the bar and took aim at the changeling’s back just as Daring burst from the kitchen. “Don’t!” she shouted, grabbing the barrel and yanking it down just as Applejack fired, sending a burst of buckshot into the floor.
The thunderous report of the shotgun seemed to snap the changeling out of its shock. It whirled around to face Applejack, spotting the gun. It froze for a moment, then flew for the door, its wings buzzing loudly.
“Get off!” Applejack shouted, shoving Daring back and taking aim once more. She fired again just as the changeling shoved its way through the door; buckshot peppered the door and the wall.
Phillip exited the kitchen, glanced around the room, then walked over to the stallion. He checked his pulse and listened to his breathing, then tried rousing him by shaking his shoulder and waving a hoof before his eyes.
“He’s breathing,” he reported. “But unresponsive. Can’t get him up. AJ, call an ambulance.”
“Where the hell did that thing come from?!” Applejack shouted.
“That…” Daring said. “That was Mint Breeze.”
Applejack stared at Daring for a few moments, her mouth hanging open in shock, then shouted, “You brought a changeling to my tavern?!”
“Hey, we didn’t fucking know!” Daring shouted back.
“Enough,” Phillip said firmly. “Arguing gets us nowhere.” He turned to Applejack. “I’m sorry, Applejack. I made a mistake.”
“Damn right you did,” Applejack growled.
At that moment, the phone rang. Applejack snatched it up and listened for a moment, then handed it to Phillip. “It’s for you,” she said coolly.
Phillip took the phone and held it up to his ear, listening. “Captain,” he grunted after a moment.
Daring looked back into the kitchen. Steamed Carrot was still huddled underneath the counter, rocking back and forth and whimpering. The eggs on the griddle were burning, jets of black smoke rising from the crispy forms.
“Steamed?” she asked, walking over and crouching down in front of her. “Steamed, can you hear me?”
Steamed just let out a soft whimper. Pinkie Pie, her hair even more frazzled and tangled than normal, entered the kitchen and walked over to Steamed. She slowly sat down next to her and draped an arm around her. Steamed curled up against Pinkie Pie, shivering.
“It’s okay,” Pinkie Pie soothed her, nuzzling her head. “It’s okay, it’s over…”
Daring took one last regretful look at the scene, then picked up the dropped folder and notes from the floor and exited the kitchen just as Phillip hung the phone up.
“We’re needed at the precinct,” he said to Daring.
Daring nodded numbly. Tucking the folder into her shirt, she followed Phillip out of the tavern. The scent of cordite hung heavy in the air and what few ponies were left in the Apple Pie were hiding underneath their tables. The stallion with the two puncture wounds in his neck was still laying on the floor, staring catatonically at the ceiling.
They pushed through the door, pockmarked with bullet holes, and out into the rain, hailing a passing cab.
When they pushed through the revolving door into the lobby of the PPD, Phillip and Daring were greeted with the sight of Trace Evidence standing in front of them. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced and he had been pacing in a circle when they arrived, stopping only when they entered.
“Captain wants us in her office,” he said and turned to lead the way. The trio walked through the doorway that led to the interior of the precinct, then up a set of stairs to the top floor. They walked down a hallway past several doors until they reached one labeled “Cold Case, Captain Special Investigations.”
The doorway at the end of the hallway had a sign that read “Chilled Tumbler, Chief of Police.” This door was closed and had bright yellow “CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS” tape stretched across it. Noticing this, Daring raised an eyebrow at Phillip. He frowned in response and shrugged as Trace opened the door and ushered them in.
Cold Case’s office was utilitarian: there was a large desk, a few chairs, a couple shelves nailed up on the wall that held certificates and trophies—Daring’s eyes went to a large golden trophy that proudly declared that Cold Case was the winner of the 1936 Ponyville Winter Sports Biathlon and a certificate that marked her as the holder of the highest score in the 1942 Ponyville Hoofgun Shooting Competition—and a coat rack in the corner that held a trenchcoat and a blue scarf. Cold Case herself was sitting behind the desk, glaring at them; her hooves were clasped in front of her, and her shoulder holster with the Filly M1912 was clearly visible. Most of the wall behind her was taken up by a rain-streaked window.
Red Herring, Bumblebee, Prowl, and Flash Sentry were all in the room as well. Red was leaning against the wall, his bangs shading his eyes. Bumblebee was sitting down in a chair in the back of the room; he tried to smile at Phillip and Daring, but ended up looking like he was going to be sick. Prowl was standing stiffly at ease next to him, her tight posture betraying her nervousness. Flash was sitting on the other side of the room, gnawing at his wing. He glanced up when Phillip and Daring entered, then started gnawing even harder, staring at them.
“You two, sit,” Cold Case said, gesturing to two chairs in front of the desk. Phillip and Daring sat as Trace closed the door behind them.
Cold Case licked her lips, her eyes going from one pony to the next in quick succession. “I want you two to tell me everything that’s been going on, starting from the beginning,” she ordered.
Phillip began to speak, telling the gathered ponies about Scarlet’s letter, their investigation into the apartment and the false crime scene, rescuing Mint Breeze from the corrupt officers, Daring’s kidnapping and rescue, and finally, their discovery that Mint Breeze and Headline Jot were one and the same, a changeling.
“And now our witness is out on the streets and there’ll be a panic over a changeling sighting,” Phillip concluded.
Cold Case licked her lips again and lowered her head to think. She was silent for a few moments, the only noise in the room the pattering of rain against the window and Flash continuing to chew on his wing.
“This Scarlet Letter,” Cold finally mused. “We’re going to have to investigate more into her. But right now, we have other problems.” She looked up with a scowl.
“Chief Tumbler is dead,” she stated flatly.
Phillip and Daring both blinked in surprise. “How?” Phillip said, noting that none of the others reacted, which meant that she must have already told them.
“Somepony broke into his office, cut his throat, and exited without being seen or leaving a single trace,” Cold explained without any emotion at all in her voice. “Don’t bother wasting your breath on crocodile tears; nopony else is. Chilled was an incompetent sexist drunk on top of being dirtier than three-week-old socks, and none of us are going to miss him. Least of all me.”
Still clasping her hooves together, Cold sat up straighter in her chair. “I’m going to be the chief of the PPD,” she announced. “I’ve already spoken to Mayor Mare, and she is going to be doing everything she can to make sure that I can get past the city council.”
“Well, congratulations,” Daring said dryly.
“Thank you,” Cold replied icily. “But there’s going to be some changes now that I’m in charge. This department is rotten to the core, as I’m sure you’ve all noticed. Cops on the take, our own witnesses getting killed within the precinct, and officers going off on rogue operations with vigilantes who get their information by beating suspects.
“But that’s all going to end now,” Cold Case announced, turning her gaze to the other officers in the room and ignoring Daring’s icy death glare. “I need to make sure that this department is staffed by officers and supported by ponies whom I can trust.” She licked her lips again, wiped a hoof across her tired, baggy eyes, and spoke.
“I want you to find this changeling and bring them in for questioning,” Cold Case instructed. “Do it fast and be careful who you trust. And do it by the book." She scanned the room, fixing everypony with a measured glare. "If I find that I cannot depend on you to do your jobs, you will turn in your badges." She turned back to Philip and Daring. "And if I'm given just one more reason why I shouldn't trust you two, you'll be arrested and charged with any and all crimes I can pin on you. Am I clear?"
“Yes, ma’am,” Trace nodded. The others all nodded silently.
“Now get moving,” Cold Case ordered, dismissing them with a wave of her hoof.
The group exited, Trace closing the door behind them. “Now what?” he sighed, wiping his face.
“Twilight might be able to help,” Phillip suggested. “Let’s go see her.”
They descended the stairs to the basement laboratory. As they approached the door, Twilight leaned out. She spotted Phillip and scowled.
“Ah, there you are,” she said. “I wanted to speak to you.” She re-entered the laboratory.
Phillip looked back at the others, shrugged, and walked into the lab. Twilight was standing in front of him, still scowling. Doctor Suunkii was standing at a nearby table, watching impassively. The music playing from the radio in the corner—Winter from Vivaldam’s Four Seasons, if Phillip was correct—added to the tension of the scene.
"I apologize for not realizing that the sample was from a changeling," Doctor Suunkii stated when Phillip entered. "I was being overworked with mundane tasks and it got pushed back."
"It's fine," Phillip shrugged it off. "Changelings are rare enough that this doesn't happen often."
“I looked over the phone records from Roger Breaker’s dispatch phone,” Twilight said, her tone as cold as snow. “He did make a number of phone calls to suspicious numbers—for instance, he called Twisted Root’s home a few minutes before Shifting Tone was attacked at the motel room, and he called the payphone outside Headline Jot’s apartment soon after Daring was abducted.”
“Good,” Phillip said.
“And I’d like to mention that I didn’t torture anypony to get that information,” Twilight added. “I obtained it legally.”
Phillip just stared at her. “Your point?”
Twilight growled in exasperation. “My point is, torturing Breaker was completely unnecessary and over the top!” she shouted. “What if you made an honest mistake and he was innocent? And what if he lied to you just to make the pain stop? And what if you got arrested and thrown in jail for assault?! Do you even consider things like that?!”
“Yes,” Phillip said flatly, completely unfazed by her arguments. “I don’t hurt ponies unless I’m certain I’ve got the right one. I know when a pony is lying to me, and he wasn’t. And that’s the risk I’m willing to take to get the job done.”
“So the ends justify the means, is that it?” Twilight replied. “You’re completely fine with ignoring the law, so long as you get your results and somepony goes to jail, or, or, or ends up dead?! Are you fine with that?”
“No,” Phillip said, glowering and turning his head away. The tip of his tail twitched slightly in irritation.
“Twilight Sparkle, that is enough,” Suunkii interrupted, walking around the table and trying to lay a hoof on his protege’s shoulder.
But Twilight didn’t seem to hear him. “So why do it, then?” she pressed, raising her voice slightly. “Because it’s easy? Because you just like hurting ponies? You’re better than this, Phillip! You—!”
Phillip suddenly whirled around and pushed his face right up into Twilight’s, stamping his back leg onto the floor with a noise like a thunderclap. Twilight immediately backed away, her ears flattening against her head. Suunkii froze where he was, eyes wide.
“Don’t pretend for a moment that you can understand how hard it is,” Phillip growled at Twilight, his voice low and deathly quiet. “Don’t pretend that you know what it’s like to have blood on your hooves, to carry that around every waking moment of your whole fucking life. I don’t do it because I like it or because it’s easy. I do it because it’s what’s necessary; sometimes, there’s no other way to get something done than to get your hooves dirty, and it’s better that I get my hooves dirty so that good ponies like you don’t have to. If I had wasted my time having Breaker interrogated, Daring could be dead.” He stepped back a pace and took a breath.
“I’m not a hero, Twilight,” he said. “There are no heroes in Ponyville.”
Twilight stared up at him for a moment, tears forming in her fearful eyes, then turned and bolted from the lab. Phillip glared after her for a moment, then sighed and lowered his head, rubbing a hoof through his mane as his shoulders slumped.
“Damn,” he muttered.
Suunkii frowned at Phillip. “You should not have lost your temper, Phillip Finder,” he scolded Phillip.
“I know, Suun,” Phillip said, refusing to look at him. “I came in here wanting to ask for her help, and now look.” He was silent for a few moments, then muttered, “She wasn’t completely wrong.”
“The world is very different to the young,” Suunkii mused. “It might not be inaccurate to call her naive, but she wants nothing more than to try to improve our broken city; an admirable goal, if nothing else.” He paused, then added with a small smile, “She actually reminds me of you when we were much younger.”
Phillip let out a quiet grunt and managed to smile. “I once said we were going to change this city, didn’t I?” he said. “That we were going to clean it up, put all the wankers in prison where they belonged?” The smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Look how that turned out,” he muttered.
“You owe her an apology, at the very least,” Suunkii said calmly.
“You’re right,” Phillip nodded. He turned and walked back out of the lab.
“Phillip Finder,” Suunkii called him back. Phillip paused and looked back at the zebra. Suunkii’s face was as stoic as always, but there seemed to be something hidden in his eyes, like a silhouette behind a curtain, an indistinct yet somewhat familiar shape.
“We both believe that you are one of the good guys,” Suunkii said, his tone making it clear that he wished to say something more but couldn’t form the words.
Phillip opened and closed his mouth a couple times, then silently nodded and exited.
The others were still gathered outside. Twilight was sitting next to Flash, sniffling. Flash was awkwardly patting her on the back, trying to reassure her.
“What happened?” Daring asked Phillip, her eyes narrowed slightly.
“We had words,” Phillip said. “Twilight,” he called.
Twilight looked up, a ghost of fear in her eyes as she looked at him. Phillip took a breath to speak, swallowed, then took another breath and started over.
“I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. You’re right to be angry at me. What I do…” He sighed. “I’ll tone back on it. Okay?”
Twilight stared at him for a moment, then wiped her eyes with a hoof. “Thank you, that means a lot,” she nodded, extending a hoof. Phillip shook it.
“All right,” Twilight said, returning herself to seriousness. “What did you need?”
Phillip and Daring quickly explained the situation. Doctor Suunkii paused at the threshold of the laboratory to listen. When Phillip got to the part about Mint Breeze turning out to be a changeling, everypony else gasped in shock.
“A changeling?” Suunkii repeated, his eyes wide. “That would explain why I couldn’t identify the species of origin of the hairs.”
“I don’t care if he’s a full-grown bull dragon, he’s our best chance of stopping the mob right now,” Daring said. She extracted the folder out of her shirt and held it out to Twilight. “Unless you know some kind of code-breaking spell.”
Twilight squinted at the writing. “I...I can’t understand any of that,” she admitted.
“It’s changeling language,” Prowl said, her face creased in a particularly bitter scowl. “Unless you can find an expert in changeling language, you need a changeling to translate it.”
“Well, there’s at least one changeling in Ponyville,” Daring commented.
“Hey, so finding them should be easy, right?” Bumblebee chirped. “Anypony got a can of bug spray?”
Everypony else glared at him. He lowered his head slightly, flattening his ears. “Sorry, not funny,” he murmured.
Twilight frowned in thought. “I could try a long-range location spell,” she said. “Thaumaturgy is a little harder, but we have the changeling’s hair, so it could work…”
“It’ll work,” Flash said, his voice one of absolute certainty.
“I shall get the hairs,” Suunkii announced, turning back into the laboratory.
“I’ll also need a map of Ponyville and some salt,” Twilight said.
Suunkii returned after a few moments with the requested items. Twilight laid the map down on the floor, then sprinkled the salt into a circle. She placed the changeling’s hairs into the center of the circle, then used more salt to draw symbols around it and the map.
“All right, I need everypony to be quiet,” Twilight said, closing her eyes in concentration. Her horn flared with magic and began to pulse at a steady rate. Everypony stepped back and watched in silence. After about a minute, the salt circle began to glow faintly with purple energy.
“Quearite,” Twilight whispered, her soft voice charged with energy. “Sequor. Indago. Quearite. Sequor. Indago.”
The magical symbols around the map began to glow as well, prompting gasps and soft cries of amazement from the observers. Twilight continued her low, monotone chant, her horn glowing brighter and brighter. Suddenly, the salt all lifted up into the air and, like metal dust attracted to a magnet, flew onto the map, forming a small pile on a single block.
“He’s there,” Twilight said. “Corner of Dawn and Honeysuckle.”
Flash blinked, his eyes widening as he regarded the indicated location. “Isn’t that a gun shop?”
Everypony stared at each other for a moment, then bolted for the stairs.