Late in the afternoon, the sun was close to setting but Cheerilee could not see that past the thick sea of clouds above her roof. All she could see was the sky turning darker.
She sat alone at the dining table with her leftover pasta and garlic syrup. The gazpacho had been slurped clean with not a single crumb or drop left to it. By the sink were a few cleaned plates already dried up from yesterday.
Cheerilee breathed easy but her face did not show it. The wrinkles and creases on her forehead made that clear.
A loud chirp from the window.
She got up and trotted to it, passing by the living room’s sofas and the pictures of the previous owner—a stallion with a thick brown beard and a pair of glasses.
Cheerileee opened the window and saw the pigeon over there, swinging its head around dumbly with those big eyes. Attached to its leg was a note. She untied it and read the letter aloud:
“‘To anyone who can read this, move to a safe location right now. The changelings have taken over Klugetown and are learning how to use airships. Gallop to the Dragon Lands or Mount Aris; these are the only strongholds left. Hurry!”
Cheerilee almost suffocated. Then, composing herself, she carried the letter to the fireplace and burned it, seeing it char and dissolve into oblivion.
The mare, for the second time, left her meal to cool and galloped to the grub’s room where he was sleeping. His eyes were closed and he had an adorable smile on its face, maybe more adorable because of its fangs.
Cheerilee looked at the cupboard. Over there, lying beside the diapers, was a book. She pulled it out and saw the title.
How to Raise Your Foal Right!
“Better take it with me,” she murmured before putting it into her mane. “The flowers, too.”
Cheerilee pulled out a drawer, yanked an empty suitcase, and laid it on the floor as quietly as possible. She eyed the baby.
He did not cry nor yawn.
“Sorry, junior, but we’re going somewhere.”
She packed the book inside the suitcase.
The moon had just risen, yet Cheerilee was not done with her packing. She only had one suitcase’s worth of items to deal with, but it became a puzzle on how to make them all fit: blankets, pillows, toys, bottles, vitamins, pesticides—organic, to be sure—food packets, spare bits, paper and quill and ink, and a foldable fighting stick.
All windows were closed and locked. Dinner was set on the table but no one was to eat it this soon.
When Cheerilee finally closed the suitcase with a heroic jump, she trotted to the crib where the grub was still sleeping. She picked him up, held him close to her face, pecked him with a kiss on the cheek. “You’ll be fine with Mommy. We’re just going out for a walk. A long walk.”
He rolled around in the grip of her two hooves. Did not stir.
A blanket was brought out and, a few seconds later, he was swaddled inside, hidden. Cheerilee also slung another blanket around her, this one carrying a bottle of water and a bunch of crackers and biscuits.
“You’re going to be alright,” Cheerilee whispered as she brisked out of the room and locked the door. “You’re going to be alright, you’re going to be alright, you’re going to be alright. Mommy’s got you now….”
She galloped all around, saw that all the lights were turned off and the lamps and candles extinguished.
It was a cold, chilly night.
A gulp from her mouth. “We gotta flee—“
Knocks on the front door.
She froze. Stood still.
Silence. The space between her and the door was empty in dreadful silence save for the wind's blow.
Knock knock knock!
She held her breath, slowed it to a halt. Crouched by the dining table, hid herself there with suitcase and grub.
Knock knock!
A hoof slipped. She looked at it. Soaked with sweat.
Knock! “Uh, howdy! Is there anypony home? Anyone in there? I’m looking for my child!”
Cheerilee fastened her teeth firm, held the grub closer.
“I know you’re in there!” the mare from outside yelled. “I saw one of you moving through the windows!”
Cheerilee looked at one of those windows.
The curtains were not closed there. She could see the dark sky devoid of stars and moon.
“I promise you I won’t cause any trouble or harm,” the stranger said through the door. “I was told my foal was in some kind of adoption center around these parts. This is the only building I’ve seen for miles, so, if you could just answer….”
Cheerilee sighed, sweating. She glanced at the door, then at the window. “Do I choose to talk or to escape? Talk or escape? Talk or es—“
The doorknob squeaked.
Cheerilee gripped the grub to her chin, cradling him near.
“Oh, sorry!” the stranger said, startled. “Very rude of me to try out locked doors! I don’t want to bother you any longer, so please do the both of us a favor and let me see my baby. I have the birth certificates!”
Cheerilee inhaled a huge gulp of breath. “She can’t possibly be the mother. A changeling...a changeling who saw me with the grub...how does she know? How did she know?”
Knock knock knock! “Come on, ma’am! I don’t have all day and they might be here any moment!”
Cheerilee stood up, closed the curtains of that one window, and galloped down the hallway, turned left and went down the stairway. Then, another left in the basement, and she saw an open door leading to a storage room of opened boxes and containers.
She closed the door behind her, locked it with three keys she found underneath three different boxes.
Cheerilee looked up in the pitch black room.
Knock knock knock knock! Though muffled, she could still hear the stranger: “Ma’am,...ain’t funny! I...know if you’re...prank, but this is my colt...talking about! I haven’t seen...when he got lost!...”
She let her hooves fumble around on the floor, searching and searching.
Picked up a key.
It slipped away.
She picked it up again and unlocked the hidden hatch. It slid open and she went inside, carrying everything and the one grub with her further underground. Carrying all four keys, she closed the hatch with a smish! and analyzed what she had gotten herself into.
A rocky, unsmooth tunnel reeking and stinky. Over there, shovels could be found under a lantern still burning bright beside some sticks and twigs. Lying over there was a scrap of paper. She picked that one up and read the scrawled message:
“‘Find a way to clog the hatch. Get the shovel, run to the other side and dig. You’ll be out in five minutes.”
She pocketed the note into her bag, picked up the lantern and the shovel, and placed some of the sticks there to snag the hatch’s locking mechanism.
The pony ran in the dark, dry tunnel. She picked up dust, she sometimes fell on her face, but she did not give up. The other side of the tunnel held freedom.
The stranger, standing outside the house in the middle of the night, took off her hat. “Ma’am, you’re leaving me no choice but to force my hoof and barge in! That’s my colt you’re hiding from me!”
She turned around and kicked the door down.
When the dust settled with its broken door, there was no one to be found. All that was left was the dinner on the table, complete with utensils placed in their proper locations.
She growled. “Come out! You can’t stay away from me for long! Give me my baby!”
The reply was her own words echoing back.
She stomped the floor. It cracked.
“Don’t you try to trap me!” she shouted. “I know the food you’re serving is poisoned! You can’t give the baby back to his Mom if she’s dead, so I’ll not eat!”
She stepped forward, jumping ahead.
“You’re not going to last long here! You had a chance to give my foal back easily, but you’re much more than suspicious now!”
Cheerilee stumbled another time. She protected the grub from contact with the rough ground by embracing him with her hooves, bearing the bruises herself.
She stood up and trekked on, though her pace was slower than before, taking a limping mien.
Everything more than several feet before her was nothing but darkness. The lantern was weak, but it was sufficient to see her immediate surroundings although they were not that interesting—rock walls, rock ceiling, dirt ground.
She looked back, seeing nothing but the same darkness as before. Clutched on to the shovel, she pushed herself more with a strong leap ahead.
“Hah! There you are!”
The stranger opened the door and discovered the baby’s room. Most of it had remained as it was before, the toys and the diapers confirming that, yes, this was where a baby would live.
Except the baby was no longer there.
She shook her head in dismay and galloped to the crib to double check if the baby was not there.
It was empty. The baby was gone, the pillow was gone, the blanket was gone, the rattler was gone, and so, too, was the milk bottle.
“She couldn’t have possibly escaped through some backdoor!” she shouted, using up most of her energy to hold back her rage. “There must be some secret room somewhere! Hiding won’t do her good much longer!”
She beat a path out of the room and re-entered the hallway.
Cheerilee thrust the dirt out of the way with her shovel, making beams of light appear through one hole and then two and then more. Cracks, crumbles, and then she put the shovel on her back and, with her forehooves, dug her own way out.
Her head popped back into the world above, breathing in the fresh evening air. She could see that she was facing a mountain whose peak was obscured by the clouds above.
The stranger opened the last kitchen cabinet and closed it.
“Urgh! Why is it so hard to find her?!” She banged her head on the wall. Then, she stroked her red mane and smiled.
A glow came upon her. It disappeared as quickly as it appeared and in her place was Ocellus.
“No more games for you!” she snarled. “I’ll do whatever it takes to find that missing grub, and if you’re so concentrated on hiding it from us...maybe you’re hiding something else, too.”
She spread her wings and hovered to the front door.
Outside was an unassuming dirt path and some ordinary rocks chilling in the night.
“You made sure the pony hasn’t left the house?” she asked the stones.
They glowed and were replaced by four changelings.
“Well?” Ocellus tapped her hoof impatiently. “Any news from the other guy?”
Cheerilee roamed the fields in the dark, mentally recording every possible angle of attack and deliberately scrutinizing every object that was not a blade of grass. She looked up, fearful that one of those clouds would fall from the sky and snatch the grub and her.
Two minutes of wandering around, she heard the rushing sound of water. A minute later and she found a river. There was a sign posted near it which told its name: Gorm River.
Then, whistling.
With strained and baggy red eyes, Cheerilee looked to the right.
Rowing down the stream was a whistling pony alone with her paddle. This pony was on a small boat, but Cheerilee could see that there was room for one more rower. She felt relieved when she saw that there was a spare paddle at the back.
Cheerilee waved her hooves frantically. “Help! Can I go with you?!”
The mysterious rower looked surprised and turned towards her direction. She hollered with cupped hoof, “Really?! How do I know you’re not a changeling?!”
“I’m carrying a changeling grub and it needs my help!”
The rower invited her to come in with a swing of her hoof. “Hop in!”
Cheerilee took a running start and, holding briefcase and baby tight, jumped halfway across the river and landed on the boat, rocking it about but not tipping it over.
Now, the sound of the water was all around as it splashed on her.
Cheerilee got up, composed herself again. “Whew! Thank you so much, miss! What’s y-your name?”
The rower put down her hat. Her salmon coat and her dull purple mane clashed with that cowpony-like hat. With that over, she grinned and said, “My name’s Wildflower Heartease, also known as Wildwood Flower. Used to do rodeo stuff, but...”
The spare paddle glowed and a changeling grabbed Cheerilee by the neck, covered her mouth and restrained her, leaving her no time to move her hooves or say anything.
“...I got into a few problems.”