//------------------------------//
// Headlong 
// Story: It's a Kind of Magic 
// by Sixes_And_Sevens 
//------------------------------//

Macintosh cast a critical eye over the wagon. “In there pretty deep,” he observed.
Pinkie nodded. “Can you do it?” she asked.
Mac considered this. “With help-- eeyup.”
“Okie-doke!” Pinkie chirped. “You pull, I’ll push.”
“Mm. Might need a li’l more muscle’n that, Miz Pie.”
Pinkie pouted. “Alright, fine. I’ll go and get Applejack-- no, she’s in the hospital, isn’t she?”
Mac rolled his eyes. “Eeyup. Least she ain’t awake t’ panic no more. Maybe Nurse Redheart should use more o’ them sedatives.”
“I think that might cause more problems than it solved,” an amused voice said.
Mac turned slightly. “Oh. Howdy, nurse. What brings you out this way?”
“I thought that the families of our patients might like some updates on their conditions,” Redheart said, waving a clipboard as she trotted forward. “Under the current circumstances, we’re doing our best to dissuade ponies from visiting in the flesh. We’re being overbooked as it is. The last thing we need is somepony being crushed in a mob of well-wishers.”
“Hm,” said Mac. “Well, while yer here, think you could give us a hoof?”
Redheart nodded and went to join Pinkie at the back of the wagon. “So how is AJ, anyhow?”
“She’s being a very silly pony,” Redheart replied, smiling slightly. “We’re keeping her slightly sedated to keep her blood pressure from going haywire, and it seems to have made her rather… how can I put this? Amorous?”
Mac winced as he began to tug the wagon forward. “Oh.”
“I didn’t know there were so many apple-related pickup lines.”
“Oh.”
“Or that her kisses taste like apples.”
Mac cringed. “Uh, sorry ‘bout that.”
Redheart frowned. “Sorry? Never mind sorry, can you convince her to go out with me or not?”
“Um…” said Mac. Fortunately for him, at that exact moment, the wagon began to roll forward. All three earth ponies strained to shove it out of the rut it had sunken into. The wheels teetered on the edge of the pit. Then, there was the sound of an explosion, and Mac was jerked sharply back as the two mares stopped in shock.
“That was only a few blocks away,” Redheart said.
“574 Shetland Road, residence of Tender Care and Button Mash,” Pinkie corrected. “Come on, let’s go help!”
The two mares rushed off, leaving Mac dazed and tied to Trixie’s wagon.


***

Meanwhile, at Carousel Boutique, Rarity and Carrot Top had reconvened in the kitchen. “Well, darling, I think that went rather well, don’t you?” Rarity asked, pouring out a cup of coffee.
Carrot merely grunted. “It didn’t work. Trixie’s still at the castle, and your little mob’s been dispersed.”
Rarity scoffed. “That? That was never meant to be the masterstroke. That was the opening, an aperitif to Trixie’s cooked goose. Ponies are still frightened after all the good work done by the mayor, and they now have one very convenient scapegoat. All we need now is the tiniest scrap of evidence, and the whole town will be baying for blood.”
“And I suppose you have that evidence,” Carrot replied nastily. “Considering that the police and royal guard haven’t found a thing.”
Rarity smirked. “Well, not exactly. Even Shadow Spade had to stage a thing or two in her time. It’s called ‘baiting the crook,’ I believe.”
“What are you talking about?” Carrot demanded.
Rarity opened the oven telekinetically. Inside, Carrot Top was astonished to see a small pile of fireworks. “What the--”
“I know where Pinkie keeps a small stash, in case of firework emergencies,” Rarity said, rather pleased with herself.
After a moment, Carrot Top nodded slowly. “I see. You blow up your own kitchen, and then claim you saw Trixie loitering around earlier.”
“Teleporting out, I think,” Rarity corrected. “She can’t have waited around all of her targets before sending them up in smoke, or ponies would have noticed. We’ve already seen that she is capable of teleportation, which is not a common trick for unicorns to pull off! There are only a hoofful in town who could manage it.”
Rarity was interrupted by a not-too-distant explosion, and she grimaced. “This ends now,” she said firmly, slamming the oven door. She would never dream of doing such a thing under normal circumstances, but, well, it wasn’t as though she needed to worry about damaging it now. “We’ll give it a few minutes so the first responders can take care of whatever building just went off.”
“I’ll leave you to it,” Carrot said. “It’ll look suspicious if we were both here.”
“Good point,” Rarity said, considering. “I’ll bid you farewell at the door, wait ten minutes, and turn on the oven. I believe I’ve got enough to believably damage the kitchen without affecting other rooms… Hm.” She stopped to think. “Where can I stand so that I can say I saw Trixie without getting injured by shrapnel?”
Sweetie Belle banged the door open and both mares froze. How much had she heard? But she was frenzied, filled with other pressing concerns. “Button’s house just exploded, and he and his mom were still inside!” she shouted. “I’m gonna see if they’re okay.”
Rarity waffled for a moment, glancing between Carrot and Sweetie. “Alright. I’ll meet you at the hospital,” she said firmly.
Sweetie gave her a strange look, but nodded and ran for the front door as quickly as she could. Rarity exhaled. Button Mash and Tender Care had already lost so much, and Ponyville had been their chance to start afresh. They had done nothing to deserve this. They had never even met Trixie. Who would be the next to fall to her vengeful crimes? Rarity's eyes hardened. She knew the answer to that. She knew who would fall next. Who would fall last, if she had her way.


***


The scene was fraught on Shetland Road. Already, the street was filled with weather patrol agents, firefighters, doctors, and one very nervous flour delivery colt. Rainbow Dash had dropped into a sort of groove of collecting clouds, transporting them, then bucking the everloving rut out of them. But something seemed different this time. Where were the inhabitants? Tender Care and her son? Dash cast an eye over the crowd. No sign. Maybe they weren't at home when the explosion went off.
Or maybe they were still inside. She saw a pair of paramedics half-dragging out Tender. Behind them…
Button was pretty short, but he wasn't exactly small. He was kinda chubby, and he had nearly as much energy as Pinkie, kind of like a super ball brought to life. But there, cradled in the crook of a hoof, eyes shut, he looked like an infant. He was just unconscious. He had to be just unconscious. He would wake up in a little while, wouldn't he?
Dash wrenched her gaze back to the clouds. She had a job to do, and she couldn't think about oh dear princesses, what would Scootaloo do, what would any of the Crusaders do anything else. She didn't know what was going on below. Guessing and freaking out would only make everything worse. She had to keep the fire from spreading, and that was all.
She risked a quick glance over the skyline. Great wisps of smoke and ash stung the lungs and hid the sun. The shape of the town was collapsing. As if on cue, the next explosion went off, and Dash’s heart sank when she realized where it had come from. Carousel Boutique.


***

Trixie brushed past Twilight in the doorway. It took the alicorn a minute to register this. Trixie had already made it to the stairwell when a wall of energy sprung up in front of her. “Where do you think you’re going?” Twilight asked, not challenging, not belligerent, just honestly curious, with a light note of teasing thrown in for good measure.
Nevertheless, Trixie bridled. “Trixie was not aware that she was to confide her every movement in you,” she snapped.
Twilight drew back slightly. Trixie felt slightly remorseful. “Trixie was just going out,” she said simply.
“It’s dangerous out there,” Twilight pointed out.
“No,” Trixie said drily. “Really? In the suddenly combustible town? Trixie would never have guessed.”
“It’s particularly dangerous for you.”
“Glad you can admit that. Trixie thought you might try and tell Trixie that they’re just misunderstood and why don’t we all get together and have a picnic or something.”
Twilight waited. Trixie deflated. “Too much?”
“A little. But I can see where you’re coming from,” Twilight said. “Stress affects all of us in some way or another. Remind me to tell you about the Smarty-Pants incident sometime. But you need to know that you aren’t seeing the town at its best. And even the group that really does bear you ill will is absolutely in the minority. But it’s a minority that exists, and I don’t want to see you being hurt by that group.”
“Even if some of your friends are in that group?”
Twilight shrugged. “Friendship isn’t all about blind agreement. It’s about caring for each other enough to work out those disagreements that come up. Anyway, it’s not as though I don’t have any friends who are on your side, either. There’s Pinkie, Fluttershy, Spike, Mac… you…”
Trixie’s breath caught in her throat. “I… Thank you,” she said. “That means more than you could know.”
Twilight was wronghoofed by Trixie’s sudden use of the first-pony pronoun, but she recovered. “Well, you’re welcome. But you can thank me more by staying inside where it’s safe.”
“No.”
“But you could be hurt.”
“Trixie knows that. Everypony knows that. But she still has to help.”
“But why? You said earlier that you were unappreciated.”
“As Trixie said. Everypony knows that she is more likely than anypony else to be hurt out there.”
It took a moment for the implication to sink in, but when it did, it was a doozy. “Performative heroics,” Twilight said softly, almost marvelling.
“Not the way Trixie would like to put it, but yes. If she is seen about town helping to fight fires and save ponies, her reputation will be redeemed. She supposes she ought to thank Rainbow Dash for the idea.”
“I’m not sure if that’s completely brilliant or really selfish.”
“Who said it can’t be both?”
“And that was either very deep or very egotistical.”
Trixie just smirked. “Look. Trixie will be helping the town and making friends with new ponies along the way. Surely you can’t disagree with that?”
Twilight huffed. “Promise me that you’ll be careful.”
“Ha! That means yes!” Trixie crowed. A look at Twilight’s face subdued her. “Trixie will be careful, yes.”
Twilight held her eye for a moment longer, but the barrier in front of the stairs faded to nothing. She watched Trixie as she hurried away. She regretted her decision already. But as she had said before, friendship wasn’t about blind agreement. She had just never expected to care for Trixie so much in so short a time.


***

Snips and Snails sat together on a small hill on the east side of town, watching Zipporwhill play fetch with Ripley. At least, in theory they were. Zipporwhill was much too distracted by her dog to pay any mind to her twin brother, or to his best friend. Away from the prying eyes and pricked ears of parents, authority figures, or anypony else with an ounce of sense, the two were able to quietly scheme in private. “So she’s staying with the Princess?” Snails gasped softly. “Gosh. I wish I could stay in her castle, too, eh?”
Snips waved away his friend’s daydreams. “Yeah, she is,” he said in an even huskier than usual whisper. “But we can’t get in there, so we’ll have to wait until she comes out to see her.”
“Aww,” Snails said, deflating. “When will that be?”
Snips shrugged. “I dunno. But I heard a bunch of other ponies talking about how she’s trying to go around town and apologize for stuff.”
Snails brightened again. “So maybe she’ll come and see us, eh!” they said, leaning forward with eyes gleaming.
“Hey, you’re right! I hadn’t thought about that!” Snips said, grinning.
“You still wouldn’t be able to see her,” Zipporwhill said nonchalantly.
Snips frowned. “Aw, Zip! I said we wanted to talk in private!”
“So keep it down over there!” she replied, annoyed. “Look, even if Miss Trixie goes to see Snails, Carrot Top would probably brain her with a hoe, and if she came to our house, mom probably wouldn’t let her in, either.”
“Oh,” said Snips, slumping. “Yeah. Good point.”
Zipporwhill clicked her tongue, and Ripley bounded to her side, tennis ball clutched firmly in mouth. She made a short, sharp gesture upwards with her hoof. Ripley sat, staring up at the pegasus, tail thumping. Snips and Snails did the same thing, though without the thumping tails. “We need a plan,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘we’?” her brother demanded. “You don’t even like Trixie that much?”
“Look, you want my help or not?” Zipporwhill demanded, glaring at him through thick-rimmed glasses.
“Yes, please,” said Snails, who may not have been particularly quick, but did have some remarkable preservation instincts.
“Okay. This is how we find her…”


***

Trixie could see the clouds of smoke rising. Finding somewhere that had been attacked was not an issue. Finding somewhere that still had any ponies gathered around to help, on the other hoof, was proving rather more difficult. For some reason, almost nopony seemed to be gathered around the wrecks. Nopony seemed to be out on the streets at all. The few that were outside when she approached tended to give her odd looks, at best. At worst, they quickly headed indoors. Nevertheless, Trixie kept her head erect, and her expression as beatific and generally shining with the milk of equine kindness as possible.
Of course, to any outside observer, it looked as though she were trying to grind her teeth down to a fine meal, but that was rather beside the point.
If Trixie doesn’t find a crowd soon, Trixie will have to summon one, she thought grimly, pondering over the easiest combustion spells she could think of. Then, she stopped to mentally smack herself a little. That was the Amulet talking again. It had to be. Even after all the years since she had parted with it, it still spoke to her every now and again, speaking in a voice disturbingly similar to her own.
She shook off the last of the intrusive thought and continued down along the street. She thought that she could hear voices down along the way. They were too far away for her to make out the words, but they sounded loud and angry.
As she drew nearer, she saw the crowd. Somepony else, it seemed, had assembled an audience. Trixie did not begrudge this. She refused to begrudge a fellow performer their success. After all, it was much easier to win over a crowd all at once than one by one, and Trixie was not above taking advantage of any little thing that might come her way. That wasn’t the Amulet talking. That was good common sense.
As she got even closer, she saw the venue. Trixie would not personally have used the garden outside a still-smoldering kitchen for any kind of performance but, well, to each their own. She couldn’t quite recognize the pony speaking from this distance, but she did admire their magnetism and charm. The gestures were emotive, but not exaggerated; the posture was poised, but not frozen. And they-- she, now that Trixie drew ever closer-- could project very well! Even halfway down the street, Trixie could make out words here and there. Words like ‘terrible division’ and ‘appalling threat’ and ‘menace to society’. And then the words stopped. And Trixie stopped. Oh, rut.
“AND THERE SHE IS!” Rarity thundered, thrusting out a hoof. Trixie didn’t stick around to see the response from the crowd. She turned tail and she ran. A few seconds later, the ground shook with the mighty rumble of hooves as the herd rose up and stampeded.
As the smoke billowed yet from the smoldering kitchen, a pair of eyes, unnoticed by anypony, watched the scene unfold to its conclusion. Everything was going exactly as hoped.

Across town, Pinkie spasmed and went weak at the knees. Mac rushed to her side, but she was standing up straight once more. But her face was grave. “Leave the cart,” she said. “We need to go.”

In the Castle of Friendship, Twilight Sparkle felt the walls began to hum a deep, gloomy note. “Spike?” she shouted. “If Trixie comes back, let her inside. Nopony else comes in without my say-so!” She teleported out without waiting for a reply.

Rainbow Dash swooped over the heads of the crowd, desperately uncertain who she should be helping, what was going on, how she could ever try to fix this, but equally as certain that everything had gone terribly, terribly wrong and it was all her own fault.

It wasn’t actually that much of a mob. Ponyville didn’t have much truck with violent riots. The general idea was that it was like being in a big musical number, but with anger and shouting. This was about the worst angry mob Ponyville had ever had, and that was only because the protesters had written messages slightly stronger than "Down With This Sort of Thing" on their signs. 
On balance, there weren’t even that many of them. The rioters made up perhaps two percent of the population, if that. It wasn't even a tenth of the crowd Rarity had gathered. Why, if they’d all lined up, chest to plot, they wouldn’t have been long enough to stretch down a city block. It was enough, though. Trixie could hear Twilight shouting for calm, Pinkie Pie trying to distract them as best she could, Macintosh bellowing at them to keep away.
But more than any of that, she heard the condemnation. It was chanted in the cries of the protesters, but it was more than that. She could hear the roar of fury in the stink of the sweat, hear the shouts for blood in every hoofbeat, hear the low words of judgement in the gleam in the ringleader’s eyes. And all of it was getting closer. It was all too much. In a single fluid motion, she smashed a glass flask on the ground and was swallowed in a cloud of smoke. When it had gone, so had Trixie.