Guard Flutter

by Impossible Numbers


Guard Flutter, Part IX: The Mysterious Mare

The pegasus Lady Pitt, wearing a silk dressing gown and four carpet slippers, huddled up on the seat of her rocking chair.

“What?” she rasped, breaking off to explode in a fit of coughing and sneezing. “This punk got Carcarass and Buffet?”

“Our people saw… bits of what happened,” said the breezie clerk at eye level. “We’re good at hiding and watching. There was this weirdo. All dressed in black. Got both times. No idea who it is, though.”

“You can guess the species, though?” Through the rasp, there was a pleading cadence. “I mean, there are only so many shapes to choose from.”

“Hmmm. Pegasus, I would’ve guessed, or maybe changeling, or griffon. Whatever it is, it’s very odd. My people saw Lady Carcarass go at it with a knife, and you know what a devil she is for close-quarters fighting. Yet it had no effect.”

“Ridiculous. Your people must be mistaken.”

Lady Pitt regretted the words instantly. True, breezies were delicate creatures. Mere puffs of air could send one tumbling to the ground, yet they survived by doing what most delicate creatures did; keeping out of the way. This one, however, was inflated with the pumped-up assurance of experience, job security, and – here, the breezie winced at another attack of coughs and sneezes from her employer – lack of disease.

The breezie smiled haughtily. “My dear Miss Pitt,” she began.

“Lady Pitt, if you don’t mind.”

“I thank you. My dear Miss Pitt,” continued the breezie, “we are not all treacherous backstabbers who’d switch allegiances for a treasure chest. My people were born and bred by Nature to spot the slightest discrepancy, to live in the teeth of the odds with only our own kind to trust. If they say they saw a mystery mook survive a stab wound from Lady Carcarass, then that is exactly what they saw.”

Lady Pitt threw herself back and rocked the chair, partly out of exasperation, and partly because she felt a cough attack coming up.

There had always been the risk. Vigilantes popped up every now and again, everyday creatures who’d decided that the security squads and peacekeepers weren’t quite fit for the job of cleaning up the streets. The smart ones usually gave up after a few arrests – their own. The not-so-smart ones turned up weeks later in a hospital bed, or in extreme cases a coffin.

Security being what it was, they were now a dying breed, which struck her as a shame. It was fun to watch the squads and the vigilantes going after each other instead of going after the likes of her.

More pressing was the competition.

Of course, the Lords and Ladies were above that childish nonsense, having discovered the delightful world of cartels, but others were not so progressive. Lord Zinc himself had replaced a minotaur who’d gotten on the wrong end of a local marketing dispute, or to be more accurate a punch-up over selling rights. For some species, it was still a matter of kill or be killed.

But even the murderously ambitious too were now a dying breed. Any hired help who’d pondered over a promotion scheme was quickly taught the error of their ways. Often several storeys above ground level. With one hand clasped around their legs.

Stability, after all, was everything. Once the game was going your way, of course.

So what would a “mystery mook” have to gain, taking out a griffon and an ox? It didn't make sense, unless the thing were a hired assassin, but the Lords and Ladies had not needed to use those for a long time. What was the point? You took care of your own patch and forgot everyone else's. Interdepartmental scrapping just meant adding to the stress, especially if the rest of the cartel got wind of what you were doing.

No, she doubted the Lords and Ladies were involved. They were too comfortable to suddenly start getting unnaturally complicated. Ambition and greed had passed them by years ago.

Lady Pitt glared at the breezie. No, this nonsense had to stop.

“Now look here, you,” rasped Lady Pitt. “I’m the keystone of this organization. If I go down, the rest of you are coming with me. We know things about your people that would make your eyelashes curl. Only my constant care and control keeps ‘em in check. Do you understand?”

The breezie clerk nodded curtly. Brash as she was, she wasn’t suicidal. “You have nothing to fear. Everyone down to the sewers is out looking for this creep. There’s no way we’ll miss so much as a stray thread.”

“That’ll do.” Lady Pitt waved her off. “Unless there’s anything you wish to add, then buzz off. I’ve got work to do.”

“Good luck, Miss Pitt.”

“Oh, and send in Mister Plum Pudding on your way out.”

“With pleasure, Miss Pitt.”

When the door slammed, Lady Pitt rocked the chair back and peered up at the hunched form of the centaur. This one had purple fur and a grey, wispy beard dangling from his jaw to his chest, but his eyes burned like emeralds in a fire.

“You,” she rasped, “are late.”

“Sorry, Boss,” said Mister Plum Pudding. “Had to take the long way round. The city’s getting jumpy these days.”

“As are most of the Lords and Ladies.” A shark’s grin spread across the pale face. “Ah well. Now you’re here. To business.”

The sack, she’d noticed, was not very big. All the same, it rattled the china tea set as Mister Plum Pudding dumped it unceremoniously onto her breakfast table. The brim slumped over the lumpy mass of its contents. One of the centaur’s hands disappeared inside it and came up full.

Crystals gleamed between his clenched fingers. First the glow was green as an emerald, and then a sulphurous yellow, before finally settling on a rusty orange. She noticed with interest how the shifting spectra were the same on every stone. Licking her lips, she flapped a hoof to wave him down. All the stones vanished back into the sack.

“Ooh,” he murmured, shaking his head.

“You should have worn gloves.” Lady Pitt rubbed her muzzle with the back of a hoof. “There’s an old legend that says these things love to be together. Childish nonsense, I know, but sometimes I wonder if there isn’t a seed of truth buried in the compost heap.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“They never run out of power. Apparently, it’s some sort of psychic vibration, or some mystic mumbo-jumbo like that. Think of how long a con like that could run for.”

“Yes, Boss.”

“We’d only have to make sure we stole them back again, that’s all. The mind fills in the blanks. No one even really understands how they work. And of course, we’re really doing the city a big service, if you think about it.”

“Yes, Boss.”

Lady Pitt pouted up at him. “You’re not a centaur of much imagination, are you, Mister Plum Pudding?”

“No, Boss. Sorry, Boss.”

“Take it as a compliment of your work ethic, Mister Plum Pudding. You may go.”

The centaur bowed. “Thank you, Boss.”

The door slammed behind him.

After his hoofsteps had died away, Lady Pitt rocked her chair back and forth, playing with her own hooves. Occasionally, she found herself turning towards the sack slumped over her table.

They called them Dark Stones among the traders. Presumably, it was to satisfy some cretinous sense of street humour, given their constant glowing, but the city believed them, at least officially. Evil, they called the stones. Corrupting. Underhanded. Even she wasn’t entirely convinced they were wrong.

But then what wasn’t, when you got down to it? Take the peacekeepers. Their entire job was to do evil deeds on behalf of the good citizens, beating down and fighting against anything that disagreed with them. That required kicking butt. Hardly anyone liked having their butts kicked, but it was for the good of the city, so that made it all right.

What was it to her that the stones ruined lives? They didn’t always do so. From what she’d heard, the lives that were ruined were on their way out anyway, so they might as well go out with a smile, if a vague, dreamy, rather unfocused one. Some of the lives ruined themselves trying to get hold of the stones. There was just no helping that kind of mindset. It was hardly her fault there.

The bag didn’t move. All the same, her focus on it became fresh and invigorating, as though she’d just noticed it breathing for the first time. Both hooves reached across and spread the rim apart.

She was a public benefactor, just like the peacekeepers. Not every client was a dead-end schmuck; in fact, most of them were Joe Public, no more remarkable than a random individual plucked from the street. You couldn’t tell just by looking at them. You couldn’t even tell just by living with them. They differed in only one respect: they had a hole to fill, or a hunger to satisfy. Her role as crusader of the public cause was to feed them well and fill them up. In return for compensation, of course.

Lady Pitt paused to wipe her nose again, and then licked her lips.

They were very nice stones. It wasn’t a good career move for anyone else, but if Lady Pitt could be sure of anything, she could be sure of her own iron constitution. A foreleg wormed through the collection, and as it did so, the heat of it crept through her skin. Shivers crept up her spine. Power flowed and warmed her from the inside out. Wonder and joy and merriment beckoned to her, blew sweet kisses in her ear, welcomed her to a new experience like no other. She tilted her head back to stop the inconvenient snot dribbling down it –

Saw the figure drop from the rafters.

The sack smacked onto the carpet, spilling its glowing contents. She almost tipped the rocking chair over. Four hooves hit the floor behind her, and she tried to fly out of range, but with a crack of joints and a groan was forced back into the clutches of gravity.

“GUARDS!” she screeched over her sandpaper throat. “GUARDS!”

“Lady Pitt…” began the echo around her.

She didn’t wait for the speech. The door slammed behind her.

Down the steps two at a time… across the empty corridor… Where were the guards? Where were the guards when she needed them?

“You can’t run away,” continued the echo, “from the consequences of your actions, Lady Pitt.”

She tripped and tumbled down the steps. As soon as she hit the bottom, sheer terror propelled her onto her hooves and she took the next flight with wings outstretched, straining to break any potential fall. Another door slammed behind her. She threw herself into the side door and kicked it shut behind her.

The figure stepped out of the shadows. It reared up, cape billowing, to engulf her.

Lady Pitt moaned, but she still had enough strength to force the door open and throw herself out into a corridor that seemed much longer than it should’ve been. She braced herself to gallop.

Unfortunately, the coughing fit chose that moment to burst out of her chest.


The troops spread themselves out along the street. Overhead, Rainbow Dash and Cloudchaser flew onwards, the former cruising at only half-strength, the latter struggling to keep up.

“I’m thinking about writing my memoirs,” said Rainbow Dash as though it didn’t make her grin uncontrollably. “How’s this for a chapter?”

“Not now, Dash.” Cloudchaser struggled to rearrange the framework under her beehive. So far, the beehive was putting up a terrific fight.

“The war hero arrives at the city! Streets throng with adoring fans – going AAAAYYY, AAAAYYY – and the proud Lieutenant – humble, but awesome, in her peacekeeper uniform – rises the steps to accept the captain’s gold medal! She ventures into the city, alone, mysterious, pondering on the vanity of all things… deep stuff, you know, to keep ‘em interested…”

“It’s gonna take ages to put this right.” Cloudchaser tried twisting the knots together, and ended up getting a dollop of stray gel in one eye. “Why didn’t I bring a mirror? Or some spare gel?”

“And then BAM! There’s the chimaera, fangs slobbering, chasing after a helpless little kid…”

“I was there. You don’t have to tell me. You could give me a helping hoof with these tufts, though.”

“And then I sprang into action! Bam! Pow! Kersplat! I sent that monster packin’! Because that’s what a captain does before bed. Just for fun. Aw yeah.”

“Am I even here right now?” Cloudchaser yanked a stray hairclip out, taking a chunk of white hair with it. “Ow.”

“Oh, lighten up.” Rainbow flipped over, now performing a cheery backstroke in midair. “A bit of rough and tumble never hurt anybody. Hey. How’s that for a chapter title? Rough and Tumble. Playful, but punchy.”

Cloudchaser sighed and went back to bashing at her beehive. “This isn't just vanity, you know. Peacekeeping is a question of style and hard-edged imagery too. You gotta look like someone's idea of a hero. Better than a scruff off the street. Not that you would understand.”

“Pfft. Style's what you do, not what you look like. I don't care how my mane looks.”

“So I see.”

“Anyway: Rough and Tumble, or Rough and Ready? Both sound good to me, but what do you think?”

Further below, Derpy hopped and chuckled from rooftop to rooftop, wings splayed to keep her balance while Meadow Flower flapped along under her shadow. Occasionally, Derpy bashed her head on a chimney she didn’t see coming, or knocked startled cats off the edge. She was humming a cheery tune, with a lot of enthusiasm that, to a generous judge, almost passed for talent.

“Is anyone actually going to remember this?” Meadow Flower mumbled to herself. “I remember the bit about the crate, but didn’t we have to account for the broken market stalls too? I’m sure that was important.”

“I’ll remember it,” said Derpy, surfacing briefly from her song.

The look on Meadow Flower’s face was a strange mix of twisted mouth and concerned eyes; her skepticism of Derpy’s memory clashed horribly with the thought of actually bringing it up.

“That’s… good,” she ventured. “Does anybody else remember? I mean, maybe we all have to give something in. Now might not be a great time, but have I mentioned that perhaps I let slip that I haven’t really filled out a report like that before? I mean, I’ll say what I can, but if they want to go into detail, well…”

“Don’t worry,” said Derpy with a chuckle. “I can tell them what you did, if you want. I’ve got a memory like one of those really hard things that can’t crack very easily.”

As she hummed along, she frightened a flock of sparrows into flying up. Everyone heard the yelp of alarm. And the crack.

Meadow Flower landed on the roof and peered down the hole where Derpy had just been. “You mean diamonds?” she called down.

“Yeah,” said Derpy’s echo. “That’s the thing I was thinking of. Wow, this place has a cellar.”

“I know. I can see it from up here. Want some help?”

“I remember we saved a lot of lives today. That is the big thing. And we didn't break too many things. That'll count in our favour, right?”

“Um, hopefully. Want some help?

“No thanks! It’s OK! I’ve found a ladder!” Something crashed inside. “Uh… Yes please, thank you!”

At street level, Bulk Biceps and Fluttershy trotted along at a comfortable pace, each respectively resembling – in grace and general weight difference – a white hippopotamus flanking an Afghan hound.

“YEAH! WE’RE AWESOME!” Bulk Biceps snorted. “HOORAY FOR THE TROOPS!”

Despite herself, and despite the memory of the smashed stalls, and above all despite the recurring image of a hot, pink, gleaming cave opening up before her and straining her limbs and promising her, if she slipped, instant and irreversible darkness, one tiny errant slip away from being trapped forever in a realm of nothingness…

Fluttershy shook herself down. No, she thought. Well, yes, there was a monster, but now we've beaten it. Can't I just enjoy it for once?

She swallowed. The peacekeepers had not stopped to clean up the resultant mess. There was a general, ungrateful sense that this was not part of the job.

But… at least there wouldn't be a bigger mess now, right?

Come on, Fluttershy, she thought. For once. Listen to Rainbow Dash. What would she say?

“Yeah,” Fluttershy mumbled with a giggly note in her voice. “We kinda were awesome, weren’t we?”

“WE’RE NUMBER ONE! AND TWO AND THREE AND FOUR AND FIVE AND SIX!” He cast about for inspiration. “PARTY AT MY PLACE! DRINKS FOR ALL!” he added, on the grounds that this usually got a cheer.

“Your throw was very good.”

“YEAH!”

“It's good to know there are strong pegasi to keep people safe.”

YEAH!

“And no one got hurt. That's the important thing.”

YYYYYEEEEAAAAHHHH!

Fluttershy lapsed into silence. If she spoke, she’d probably never stop struggling to gush words like the rest of them. Still, they were having an effect. She could’ve walked so high she’d be trotting over the rooftops without so much as unfurling her wings. Some intoxicating giddiness was tickling her chest and making her come over all giggly.

Good heavens! Rainbow Dash must feel like this all the time. No wonder the poor girl can’t keep still; if she didn’t keep moving, she’d burst with the sheer surge of energy.

“MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY FOR THE HEROES OF THE CITY!” Bulk was now in full military mode, hooves trotting in synchronized step and chin stuck out proudly. “ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! KNOCK ‘EM DEAD! WIPE THE FLOOR! KNOCK SOME MORE! THERE’S A DOOR! SOUNDOFF! KNOCKDOWN! ROCK ON! GO!”

Despite herself, she thought back to the sight of the crate tumbling over, and imagined the chimaera inside, the creature that had laughed at her pleas and hunted her among dark trees, rocking about inside it. The fact that it was an accident was nothing. Across the years, some stick-thin and wide-eyed filly was silently cheering her on.

A wide-eyed filly with hopes. Still there. Still watching.

“WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!” yelled Bulk Biceps, who by now was shouting at some fantasy world only he could see. “THIS SHOW MUST GO ON! WE WILL ROCK YOU! UNDER PRESSURE! OGRE BATTLE! WHOO!”

A pall came over her. She hadn’t realized the filly was still watching. And before that chimaera, there had been years and years of her keeping her head down and trying to pretend the gold badge of captaincy on her sleeve hadn’t been an accident, and that one day the thing wasn’t going to be snatched away.

She giggled less and less until the tickly feeling gave up and died.

Fluttershy glanced up at the other troops, and noticed two silhouettes moving towards them. Lightning Dust and Gilda had just caught up with them; the pair had probably spotted Rainbow and Cloudchaser from a mile away.

If she hadn’t already sobered up, the mere sight of those silhouettes would’ve driven every last gallon of wooziness out of her head.

Not those two!

Habit jumped at the helms and she jumped behind the reassuring wall of flesh that was Bulk Biceps. With any luck, neither of them would think to check behind him.

“Looks like the captain rounded up the elite forces,” she heard Lightning Dust say. There was a smirk in her voice.

“Hey,” said Gilda coldly. “What’s up?”

“HAHAHA! You guys!” A swoosh that could only be Rainbow Dash zooming at them; Fluttershy peered between the columnar legs and saw the two staring at the new captain in complete bafflement. “It was the most amazing thing EVER! You’ll never guess what just happened!”

Rainbow stopped doing cartwheels in midair and stared back at them, upside-down.

“Well go on,” she said. “Guess what just happened!”

Gilda was pretending she couldn’t see anyone, and had folded her forelimbs stroppily.

Meanwhile, Lightning Dust cast her frown about the squad. There was Cloudchaser, who by this point had resorted to holding her mane up with her hooves; Meadow Flower, who was patting the soot off of Derpy’s fur; Derpy, who was smiling inanely from under a “jaunty hat” that on closer inspection turned out to be a chimney pot; and Bulk Biceps, who even standing still gave the impression of shouting. Fluttershy briefly ducked out of sight.

“You… had a drink?” said Lightning Dust.

“Dusty and Gildy,” Rainbow said, gesturing to her impromptu squadron. “You are looking at the heroes returning in triumph from a campaign of derring-do and dangerous deeds!”

“We caught a chimaera and kicked it out,” said Cloudchaser carelessly. “Whoop-de-do. Can we please go somewhere with some hair gel? This thing looks like I stuck it in a water barrel.”

Despite the tone of the words – and the murderous glare they earned her from Rainbow – they had an electric effect on the squad. Meadow Flower and Derpy contrived to stand to attention as though offering themselves for inspection. Bulk Biceps raised a hoof in salute. Even Cloudchaser herself couldn’t resist a smirk of satisfaction.

“Not bad,” conceded Lightning Dust. She turned to Rainbow Dash. “And on your first night as captain too. What are you gonna call that chapter in your memoirs?”

“Well…” said Rainbow. “There you have me.”

“This is all so sweet and everything,” growled Gilda, “but can we go now? Shore leave doesn’t happen every day, you dorks.”

From below, Fluttershy watched the flying pegasi drift onwards. To their right, a tower leaned over the scene, a ghostly block of shadow behind the harsh lantern lights. As she watched, a figure flashed past one of the windows.

Through the gap between Bulk Bicep’s legs, she heard the glass shatter.

“Uh oh,” she said.

“WHAT?” Bulk Biceps peered under his belly. “WHY ‘UH OH’?”

Shaking slightly, she pointed up the height of the tower, but a second later it didn’t matter. The silhouette shot through the shower of shards, right down to a street below, and then vanished out of sight. There was a crash of wood.

“Look!” she yelled.

Up at the broken gap, a second figure shot down, this time on a ruler-straight trajectory that looked entirely deliberate.

“ANOTHER PEGASUS!” Bulk Biceps stretched his neck up at it.

“And it’s…” Meadow Flower squinted. “Running down the tower?”

“Looks like trouble! Come on!” cried Rainbow Dash, who didn’t waste any time. Exchanging a shrug each, Gilda and Lightning Dust followed.

“Oh. Are you sure?” Fluttershy said. “I don’t mind… wasting a little time…”

“SOMEBODY’S IN TROUBLE, SOLDIER!” Bulk Biceps, along with the rest of the squad, disappeared round the corner in the direction of the crash. Fluttershy stopped crouching now that her cover had got up and run away.

“Yes.” Fluttershy gulped. “Me.”

No one came back. She glanced up and down the street, but not a soul was around. A faint breeze coursed through the thoroughfare. It was exactly the sort of dark and lonely road a weak and helpless mare should never set foot in.

“Oh my goodness,” she moaned, and she galloped after the shouts. “Please please please let it be nothing bad.”


They emerged in another alleyway, the whole squad crowding through the narrow gap, and the pegasus screamed and ran right into them. She was coughing and spluttering fit to burst.

“Help me! Help me!” Hacking coughs and a burst of a sneeze sprayed them with phlegm and slime. “For goodness’ sake, help me!”

After throwing a terrified glance behind her, she threw Derpy aside and shot out of sight down the street. They watched her go.

“Wow,” said Cloudchaser. “I’ve never seen someone so sick move so quickly before.”

“The poor thing,” Fluttershy whispered. “She’s scared to death.”

“Er, girls?” said Derpy. “I hate to burst in, but I think there’s a bad guy.”

They turned back to the alley.

Standing at the far end, regarding them with the blank eyes of its dark mask, the figure didn’t move. Its head was cocked curiously. Under the wide brim of its hat, its face was cast into shadow, so that even the near-blackness of its purple costume was reduced to an empty hole around its upper face, as if someone had cut a head-shaped chunk out of the universe with scissors.

The squad admired the fluttering of its cape. Even in their pumped-up state, they knew style when they saw it.

Rainbow was the first to shake off the charm. “You! Stop right there!”

The figure didn’t move. Cape fluttering behind it, the figure continued to stare as though unable to comprehend their mere existence. Something about it creeped Fluttershy out. It looked unnaturally still. Even a reptile would’ve been breathing slightly.

“Um… Good!” said Rainbow. “Now, Lightning, Gilda; if you’d do the honours?”

“You mean catch her and take her in?” said Gilda.

“That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“Huh. Obviously. Fine.” Gilda traipsed over to the figure, shadowed all the way by a mildly amused Lightning Dust. “OK, tough guy, party’s over. Don’t try any tricks, and I might just keep you in one piece.”

She gripped a forelimb with one set of talons.

To her credit, she grabbed the kicking leg in mid-strike. Much as Fluttershy hated to admit anything the slightest bit nice about Gilda, the griffon was no fool.

Lightning gripped the other two legs, which flexed slightly, but the effort was half-hearted. The figure was still staring at them, but except for the offending back limb, Gilda and Lightning Dust might have grabbed hold of a statue.

Only then did Fluttershy notice she hadn’t breathed for the last minute. Along with the rest of the squad, she let out a heavy sigh of relief. Derpy wiped the sweat off her sooty face.

“You have the right to remain silent,” droned Gilda to the air. “You have the right to be arrested, get thrown into prison, blah blah blah. OK, on three. One. Two. Three.”

The figure blurred.

“What the –”

Suddenly unsupported, Lightning Dust and Gilda fell forwards. Two skulls cracked. The pair reeled and sat down with a single thump.

The blur resolved itself into the figure. It was now several yards ahead of the pair.

As one, the squad took a step backwards.

“Uh…” said Rainbow. “OK… OK… Uh, Bulk Biceps. Front and centre. We’ll go for strength this time.”

“FRONT AND CENTRE! GOT IT!”

“What are you doing!?” squeaked Meadow Flower. “Don’t bother with a one-on-one! Just rush her!”

“I’ll help!” Derpy grunted as the chimney pot fell over her face. Echoing slightly, she continued, “Front and centre, Derpy!”

“Wait…” Fluttershy took a step backwards.

“I’m still tired,” said Cloudchaser. “I say we get this done as soon as we can. Count me in.”

“Wait.” Fluttershy raised a hoof. “I think…”

“YEAH! RUSH THE BAD GUY!”

“Yeah!” they shouted.

“Wait!” Rainbow yelled, but the wall of troops surged forwards, and Fluttershy scrambled for the nearest corner and peeked around it.

Lightning Dust and Gilda shook themselves down and jumped into the circle around the figure, who had deigned to move and was now looking from one pegasus to the other. As one, the pair jumped up and covered any aerial retreat, allowing Bulk Biceps, Derpy, Meadow Flower, and Cloudchaser to close in, stalking with the prowl of lionesses. Talons snapped out, wings flared up; Derpy pushed her chimney pot up, her frown of rage marred by the wandering eye trying to get a look at her own ear.

“Hey!” shouted Rainbow Dash. “I’m the captain here!”

“NOW!” yelled Bulk Biceps.

All six of them shot at the figure’s head. A second before it was lost to the scrum, Fluttershy swore she saw the hat flash.

The thing moved like a shadow.

The instant the scrum disappeared in a cloud of dust, punches, kicks, and yelps, hat and figure slid out and galloped down the narrow street, heading straight for Rainbow Dash. Fluttershy bit her hoof.

Gilda was the first to break out. Talons snatched at the cape, and she yanked and ripped right through it and lost her grip. She went tumbling backwards and vanished into the ball of violence. Lightning Dust had already appeared; the figure continued galloping and found her blocking its way. It jinked to the right, but Lightning Dust was there, blocking its way again. The figure skidded to a halt.

“Gotcha now!” she said. Her hoof met the muzzle so fast it didn’t seem to pass through the space in-between.

Her smirk faltered. The figure, her hoof still in its face, had seized her leg in a double-limbed grip. She tugged backwards. The leg didn’t so much as slip.

“Hey!” she said, suddenly panicking and tugging harder. “Let go!”

Now Cloudchaser and Bulk Biceps charged in, leaped, spread their wings –

Collided with Lightning Dust. Fluttershy winced at the smack.

After the bodies thumped onto their backs, the figure turned round, but this time Derpy and Meadow Flower blocked her path. Derpy was now bereft of soot.

“Um,” she said. “What’s next Rainbow Dash?”

“Oh for Pete’s sake!” Rainbow spun round; glared at Fluttershy, who half-ducked behind the wall. “Get me back-up! Pronto! We can’t let that thing escape!”

When she turned back, Derpy was blundering around, the chimney pot rammed down to her shoulders. Muffled moans came from behind the cylinder of pottery. At least Meadow Flower had managed to grab onto its cape with teeth and a hug, but she was a blur as the figure leaped from wall to ground to other wall and off the side of Bulk Biceps, who was still prone. Gilda tried a second lunge. There was a blur. Gilda lay prone next to him.

On the last bound, the figure suddenly dug its hooves in. Unfortunately, Meadow Flower’s body was working under the assumption that bounding was still in progress. She hit the other wall upside-down and slid headfirst into a bucket of water.

There was no mistaking the sweat on Rainbow’s face this time. “Fluttershy! Go! Now!”

“But what about –”

And then the figure was on them.

Blur met rainbow in a frenzy of colour. Fluttershy’s eyes watered just trying to keep up with either of them. One moment, she thought she saw Rainbow gripping it in a headlock. The next, she swore the figure had a rear hoof planted in the small of Rainbow’s back.

“R-Rainbow…?” She took a step forwards.

For a moment the pair blurred back into normal time, Rainbow flying above its head, and the figure crouching for a leap. Another blur, and the figure had shifted to the right. Rainbow blocked its escape. A third blur; Rainbow blocked its left exit. It leaped at the wall; Rainbow was as unshakeable as a shadow, even when it blurred back onto the street.

The hat flashed.

Rainbow and Fluttershy blinked. The figure had vanished.

“What the hay? Where is it? Where’d you go? Get back here!”

Ignoring the groans and protests of the stirring remains of her comrades, Rainbow darted to and fro, trying to spot some trick or sign of a blur coming back. Fluttershy’s brain was still trying to catch up with what just happened when she noticed a slight flash behind her and spun round.

The figure – the figure – was standing right there.

Up close, it seemed even more fiercely pegasine, and yet so completely alien. Its face was one stretch of royal cloth with no slits for nostrils or mouth, or even any suggestion that it was designed to do anything so mortal as to eat and breathe. Each eye wasn’t simply another patch of fabric, but stiff and tinted and, despite the lack of pupils or irises or any of the usual ocular devices, totally and utterly focused on her. It was an insectoid corpse, recording every second of her existence.

The whimper leaked out of her.

It wasn’t just the dead interest that made her feel like a breezie staring at the wrong end of a hoof. There was the way it seemed to weigh down hard behind it. Tons of intelligence and high-mindedness and cool, calculating discipline bore down on her through those dead eyes, straining to leave her a smear on the ground. It was a stare with an amused snort of contempt.

Fluttershy shrank down and hid behind her own forelegs.

“Please don’t hurt me,” she said.

They weren’t good last words, but the sheer sincerity behind them put many a philosophical retrospective to shame.

When she dared to raise her front hooves, the shadow was gone. She hadn’t even heard it move.

Cautiously, she looked up and down the street, but there was no sign of the figure. She backed into the narrow street, gaze darting everywhere, including the walls and windows and the reddish tinge of the overcast sky.

Around her, the squad were stirring and pushing themselves back onto their hooves or talons. The only two actually walking were currently staggering about with bucket or chimney pot wedged firmly on their heads. Rainbow was up high, scanning the streets for signs of activity.

Fluttershy was only vaguely aware of two approaching silhouettes in the distance; Raindrops and Thunderlane were travelling as the crow flies, and the crow in this case was the captain.

A few threads of purple cloth were caught under her hoof. She bent down and sniffed at them, but no incriminating odour stepped forwards.

Her gaze drifted over to Lightning Dust, who was dusting herself off and trying to pretend nothing of consequence had happened. Lightning Dust, she knew, had once beaten the Dizzitron challenge at its maximum setting. It was a setting mainly used to practise for supersonic jet storms, and had been known to reduce veterans to a thin paste on the ground. Everyone knew the record on the machine belonged to Rainbow Dash, but that was still only at the standard setting…

Fluttershy wondered what figure could move faster than either of them. Short of breaking the laws of physics, any fugitive trying it should have exploded under the sheer force. It had not just blurred, but blurred out of reality and back in again.

There was something terrible and wrong about this. But it was also uncomfortably familiar.

She was still puzzling over it when Rainbow Dash rammed into her and started shouting at anyone who was awake.