“AWRIGHT, EVERYPONY!”
Granny Smith’s voice, amplified by the megaphone, boomed out over the crowd.
“The big Obstacle Race starts in fifty—”
A sudden silence, punctuated by urgent whispering.
“Starts in fifteen minutes! That’s what I said,” she added, but to who, no one could tell. “Make sure all racin’ sisters are at the startin’ line with their partners, or you’ll get dispepsic!”
More whispering.
“Disqualified!” Granny roared. “That’s what I said,” she added, sulkily.
Pinks’s head popped up over the crowd. She scanned the huddled ponies with a faint frown; after a moment’s scrutiny, she popped her head back down. She made her way through the crowd, her progress marked by only a few indignant yelps, before scrambling up on top of a convenient barrel. She stood on tip-hoof and scanned the crowd again. After a moment, she spotted her target, grinned, then hopped from the barrel onto the back of Whirligig (Favorite Apple: Jonagold, Cider Preference: Pulp-Free, Low-Spice) and onto the ground. A few quick strides, and she was there.
“Hey-ya, Bloom!” she cried happily. “I found you! You ready?”
“Yep!” Apple Bloom said, lifting her chin to show off the bright green bandana tied around her neck. “Headin’ over there now!”
Pinks looked her over. “Are you really gonna race in that big hairbow a’ yours?” she asked, flicking the bow with a grin.
Apple Bloom clapped her hooves over her bow and scowled. “I need it,” she huffed. “Keeps my mane outta my eyes.”
“Yeah,” Pinks said. “But that’s one a’ your nice silk ones. A rubber band would do ya just as good.”
Apple Bloom glowered at her, but Pinks just giggled. Apple Bloom flashed a weak smile.
Pinks nodded towards the starting banner, barely visible over the crowd. “Better get goin’,” she said. “Don’t wanna be late, now!”
Apple Bloom frowned. “Aren’t you racin’, too?” she asked, bewildered.
Pinks shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “Jackie’s all stressed, and she needs it more than me. ‘Sides,” she said, nudging Apple Bloom conspiratorially. “I don’t think she’s ever had a chance to race with you. Why don’t you see what the two a’ you can do out there?”
Apple Bloom opened her mouth, then closed it. “B-but I wanted to race with you,” she said, a faint whine in her voice. “We practiced ‘n’ everything.”
Pinks sighed, then pulled her in for a hug. “I know, Sugarcube,” she whispered. “But sometimes, you gotta do things you don’t wanna do for the ponies you love.” She looked down at Apple Bloom. “And we both love Jackie a whole bunch, don’t we?”
Apple Bloom sniffled. “Yeah,” she admitted.
“Yeah, we do,” Pinks repeated. “Jackie, she… she’s havin’ a hard time. And, win or lose, runnin’ with ya will make her feel better, I reckon.” Pinks hesitated, then smiled, and pulled Apple Bloom closer. “Tell ya what,” she said, “I’ll time the two a’ ya. And then, after everypony’s gone home, we can run it again, just the two of us. See who’s faster.” She grinned. “That work for ya?”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Sure,” she said.
“Good,” Pinks said, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, get goin’, and I’ll go find Jackie for ya.”
Apple Bloom slipped away and started to trot, a spring in her step, towards the starting line. Just as she was about to move out of reach, however, Pinks had an idea. She grinned a little wider, then leaned in and grabbed the loose end of Apple Bloom’s hairbow in her teeth. As Apple Bloom kept walking, the bow pulled, and partially slid out of its knot. Pinks let go before the bow parted entirely; now, her bow hung lopsided, with a long, trailing tail. Pinks chuckled to herself, then turned and skipped away. When she noticed, they’d have a laugh, and Pinks would promise not to do it again, and she wouldn’t—because good sisters could tease each other now and then, as long as feelings didn’t get hurt.
Heck—maybe Bloom’d notice before anyone else did, and go find a hair tie a little more suitable for playing in the mud.
* * *
Radiance trotted down the small path by the edge of the river, looking this way and that. Any other day, she would have loved to take a break by the riverbank—the water flowed swift and deep, and the grass along its sides would have made for a lovely picnic.
But that picnic would have to wait. She had more important matters on her mind.
“Seren-ade!” Radiance cried, as she searched the trees. “Serenade, where are you? It’s almost time for your—!”
Radiance pulled up short and listened carefully. There it was again, over the sound of the water—a low, painful moan. Slowly, Radiance crept forward and around a tree, then stopped and stared.
There, lying in a pool of sunlight at the base of a tree, lay both Spike and Moonlight Serenade, eyes half-closed, mouths open, tongues dangling out. The two half-empty pie tins between them, coupled with their swollen bellies, left few questions as to what exactly the problem was.
For just a moment, Radiance felt a flash of irritation—Mother had told them not to spend their money on pies—!
But still, she swallowed her irritation, and knelt beside her sister.
“Serenade,” she said, an unaccustomed note of tenderness in her voice, “are you okay?”
Serenade’s eyes fluttered open, and her head lolled towards Radiance. “Urgh…” she groaned. “My tummy…”
“I know, sweetie,” Radiance said, taking her by the hoof. “I know.” She smiled a little. “That’s what you get for trying to eat a whole pie...”
Serenade just moaned and turned away.
Radiance put a hoof on her forehead. “What do you need?” she asked. “Some water? A baggie? Would you like me to go find Mama?”
“Twilight...” she groaned.
Radiance’s expression froze. “You… you want me to go find Twilight?” she asked slowly.
Serenade looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears. “Twilight can’t run the race,” she said. “Not without a sister…”
Radiance broke into a weak smile, then ran her hoof through Serenade’s mane. “Aww,” she said, “I don’t think she’d mind. I don’t think she really likes—”
A fire sprung up in Serenade’s eyes, half-smothered though it was by sluggish pain. “Yes she does,” she insisted. “She told me she loves the Race! And…” she sniffled. “...and now she can’t run, because of me…”
Radiance stared at her sister, into those big, green eyes of hers. She bit her lip and thought for a second—but only for a second.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
Serenade looked up at her. “Huh?” she said.
“I’ll run for you,” Radiance repeated. “I’ll take your place, and run for you. And I’ll make sure that Twilight will get a chance to race, too.”
Serenade shook her head slightly. “But… there’s mud—a-and—”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” She smiled. “Is that okay?” she added. “If I take over your spot?”
Serenade stared up at her for a moment, then nodded mutely.
“Good,” she said. She bent down and kissed Serenade on the forehead. “Now, you two stay right here,” she said. “I’ll send Mama or Daddy to come find you. Okay?”
Serenade just nodded again.
“Good,” Radiance said. “See you soon.”
She stood, squared her shoulders, and headed back towards the square. Somewhere in the back of her brain, she had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to regret promising to run that race—but, then again, when it came to her sister—
Well. She was prepared to do worse than traipse through a little mud for her family. Even if that family included Twilight Sparkle.
* * *
Rainbow shot a furtive look over her shoulder at Flyby, standing twenty or thirty feet away, and who pretended not to notice. Rainbow turned back to the bored-looking mare sitting at the registration table.
“There has to be two racers?” she whispered.
The mare nodded. “Yep,” she said. “Two sisters, each with a distinctive item of clothing, so we can tell y’all apart.”
Rainbow bit her lip. “Well…” she said, “my sis isn’t much for racing…”
The mare shrugged. “Fine by me,” she said disinterestedly.
“Really?” Rainbow almost squealed. “Then you’ll—?”
“Next,” she called, pointedly pushing Rainbow out of the way.
Rainbow huffed, and watched as a pair of unicorns stepped up to register for the race. She turned, then plodded back and stood beside Flyby. Flyby glanced at her, a faint sneer on her face, then looked away. Neither of them spoke for a second.
“They won’t let me race solo,” Rainbow said. “I need a partner.”
“So?” asked Flyby sulkily. “Ask Surf.”
Rainbow growled a little. “I need a female partner,” she hissed. “A sister. Y’know, for the Sisterhooves Social?”
Flyby hmphed and stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t see why that’s my problem,” she said.
Rainbow licked her lips, then took a deep breath. “I need you to race with me,” she said.
Flyby turned to look at her, the fire in her eyes leaping higher. She watched Rainbow in silence for a long moment.
Flyby took a deep breath, then stood up straighter. “No,” she said firmly.
Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Come on, Fly,” she pleaded, a faint whine in her voice. “I took you to see the chickens.”
“For ten seconds,” Flyby shot back. “What’s that worth on the racetrack? Five yards?”
“And I let you borrow my sneakers last week.”
“You mean my sneakers?” Flyby demanded. “The ones I’d been looking for since January? The one that randomly appeared in the back of your closet?”
Rainbow grimaced. “Flyby, I need this.”
Flyby turned and glared at her. “Like I needed my chickens?”
Rainbow glared back for just a moment, then turned away. She swallowed, then turned back to her.
“I’ll do the dishes for a week,” she said.
Flyby eyed her suspiciously. “Two weeks,” she said. “And I want my clothes back. All of them.”
Rainbow’s lips twitched into a faint snarl. “Then give me back my sweats,” she snapped. “And no more of my protein shakes.”
Flyby narrowed her eyes. She stayed quiet for a moment, then lifted up her hoof, spat into it, then held it out. Rainbow smiled a little, spat into her own hoof, then clicked it to Flyby’s. They shook hooves, and, without another word, the two of them walked to the back of the registration line.
“And no setting the table with paper plates,” Flyby added. “That’s cheating.”
“You’ve done it,” Rainbow replied.
“Not after we spit-shook on it,” Flyby said.
“Fine. Whatever.” Rainbow said, grumpily. She looked away—then, slowly, her eyes drifted up to the goggles Flyby still wore on her forehead.
“Hey,” she said thoughtfully, “d’ya think Mom might have brought an extra pair of those…?”
* * *
Apple Bloom stood at the starting line with the other racers who had lined up already. They weren’t supposed to start for a few minutes yet, but Apple Bloom still found herself getting impatient. What was taking Applejack so long?
Something tickled at the back of her neck. She shook her head, and it went away—but just for a moment. She was too busy scanning the crowd to notice when it started tickling again.
A gentle breeze blew down the racetrack, just enough to feel nice on a balmy summer day. But, with a rustling of the trees, the breeze quickly grew into a sharp gust, then dropped again to a mild zephyr.
Apple Bloom didn’t notice that anything had changed until her mane fell in front of her eyes. “Wh’ the—?” she cried.
She pushed her bangs out of the way, then felt at the back of her head for her ribbon. It was gone. She gasped and looked frantically around—only to see her pink ribbon floating away on that gust of wind, high over the trees.
“Aw, consarn it,” she muttered to herself, and set off after it.