Jackie couldn’t even guess how big this castle really was. At first she’d thought she’d been taken to a separate section, with a single impressive tower to dominate the whole skyline. But one hallway led to another, and soon she found her mental map of the place had dissolved into complete chaos. There were many corridors, each one leading to some new wonder. The princesses of Equestria had obviously saved the most impressive views for themselves.
But eventually they passed guards dressed in simple white gowns, wearing no weapons at all, and lots of writing in the Equestrian language that she could only assume indicated the hospital. Katie could probably read that. She paid attention in the boring classes. Whatever, if she ever ended up coming back to this world, she could pick up things like that. Now that she knew this place was more than an abstraction, she had more reason to care.
The guards didn’t stop them, or do anything but look sympathetically at Jackie. “Why would you put a hospital in a palace?” she asked, lowering her voice a little. Gentle Night was well ahead of them, stopping at whatever junction or doorway he reached to tap one hoof and glare back—so he wouldn’t be listening. But Harley could.
“Because it’s not that kind of hospital. Listen.”
Jackie listened, bat ears perking as they rolled past a reception desk and a few more guards. At first she didn’t hear anything she wouldn’t have expected—fans, low voices from doctors, conversation. But a few seconds more, and other sounds emerged.
There were many voices, and none of them seemed to be enjoying themselves. They rolled into a long, open hallway, with lots of cubicle-like cells with curtains for privacy. Each one had a little chalkboard outside, with more scribblings in Equestrian on them. Lots of them had photographs as well—photos of humans. Government IDs, some of them. Others were from newspapers, or obviously taken from social media profiles.
That wasn’t nearly as disturbing as the voices she heard coming from inside some of them.
“I can’t get out, I can’t get out, I can’t get out!”
“Fucking stop! You can’t eat my legs!”
“Smile smile smile smile smile…”
Someone was screaming from down the hall, in a language she thought was Dutch.
Jackie shivered, ears pressing flat to her head. “H-how many… how many people are in here?”
Harley shrugged one shoulder. “Too many. These are… the worst cases. People who take a huge dose of magic all at once.” She slowed to a stop outside one of the closed curtains, gesturing at the photo. There was a middle-aged woman there, pictured in the backyard with children in the background. The photo had the rectangular dimensions she was used to, but had to be a full-page print or something, because it was almost as big as Jackie’s head.
“I remember her. Cindy, I think. Or maybe Diane. Her kids were really into the show, and so were lots of their friends. Talked her into taking them to the movie when it came out. I don’t know what happened in there, but at least half the people watching lost their spells all at the same time. It was enough radiation to barbecue a fucking minotaur. Kids were fine, but… mom came out totally catatonic.” She gestured down the hall with one wing. “It’s shit like that for all of them.”
“You two.” Night’s voice from just up ahead, as stern as it had always been. He hadn’t ever raised his voice with them, but he sounded constantly like he wanted to. Except that he wouldn’t debase himself for them. “The princess is just around the corner here, in the confinement wing. We’re going to get there, and wait for her outside. Before she moves on to help somepony else. The princess should’ve been asleep an hour ago as it is.”
Jackie found her composure slipping a little, and she actually glared at him. “How can you talk like that? Standing here, surrounded by people who are fucking wrecked because of what you did.”
Night didn’t laugh, but he did roll his eyes wide enough for her to see. “Nothing I did, human. Nothing anypony did. Yes, it’s a terrible tragedy. Yes, the princess does everything she can for them. And the staff here make them as comfortable as we can. The best doctors in Equestria are out there working on a cure for each individual case.
“But the princess is waiting,” he continued. “And healing the mentally and emotionally damaged is only one of her numerous responsibilities. If it weren’t for our princess, there would be far more ponies like this. If it bothers you, think of the hundreds she could save, and not the few dozen she could not.”
He didn’t wait for Jackie’s response—just turned on his hooves and hurried away at his rapid pace.
Jackie remained silent as they rounded the corner to another hallway—this one far more spartan than the one behind them. Instead of cubicles of white linen, it looked like she had wandered into a dungeon. There were maybe ten little cell doors here, with chalkboards and pictures outside as in the room behind them. Only the sounds coming from inside were much more violent. Hooves smacking against rock, screams of mad rage, rattling chains.
One of the doors was open, and a little gaggle of doctors hovered outside. Four looked like the same guards Jackie had seen watching the entrance to this place, pawing at the ground with impotent frustration.
Jackie tried to lean forward and take a look, but one of the doctors noticed, and turned around to get in the way.
“The princess should be… done shortly,” she said, with a slight bow to Gentle Night. “I think she’s making some real progress.”
“I wouldn’t expect much out of Teeth at this point,” Gentle said, settling back onto his haunches. He didn’t enter the cell—didn’t get anywhere near the guards. And based on the sounds coming from within, Jackie couldn’t blame him.
Something smashed against stone, and bits of orange feather emerged from the door. A few of the orderlies winced.
“Mr. Crowley has made some… real strides,” the doctor said, eyeing Night with mild annoyance. “A few more treatments like this, and we might be ready to release him to secondary care. He hasn’t bitten anypony in three days.”
“Delightful,” Night said, glancing back at Jackie. “See, this is what you could’ve been. I hope you’re feeling lucky.”
Jackie glanced around at the dungeon again—at the thick iron bars on the cell windows, and the gloomy tubes of light flickering on the ceiling. Maybe Equestria wasn’t so great after all.
At least Princess Luna didn’t keep her waiting much longer. Another few seconds, and the Alicorn herself emerged from beyond the cell door.
Jackie found herself stunned speechless by the pony she saw—for the second time today, she was grateful for the wheelchair.
Princess Luna made it clear instantly how a pony might look attractive to her. She was tall, with features elegant enough for any issue of Cosmopolitan she’d ever read. And that mane… her hair seemed to stretch into infinity itself, with little glowing motes of light drifting slowly in the background. It didn’t look like hair at all, but a window to somewhere beyond, where stars of strange hues danced in the endless void.
The princess said a few polite words to the doctors, finally giving the orderlies permission to enter the cell. “Don’t wake him,” she instructed, voice calm. “I think he’ll be almost agreeable when he wakes. And if not, send for me again in a week. Too many treatments too soon will not help him more than a few treatments and a little time.”
Then she noticed Jackie, and she met her eyes. Jackie felt her ears flattening, warmth rising to her cheeks. It didn’t just look like this Princess Luna could see her crush—but everything else she had ever thought besides. Those dark eyes went down even further than her mane did.
“This is the patient I was expecting?” she asked Night, though she didn’t take her eyes from Jackie. She didn’t actually wait for an answer. “You’re one of mine then… Jacqueline. Is that right?”
She shivered slightly, but tried not to look embarrassed. She nodded. “My friends just call me Jackie.”
The princess glanced past her, nodding to Harley. “You have chosen your friends well, I see. This drone is as dependable as she is compassionate.” She turned, silvery metal horseshoes clattering on the stone floor. “Find us somewhere to work, Night.” She raised a hoof peremptorily. “Somewhere more comfortable than this. You see our guest isn’t violent. My treatment won’t make her worse.”
“O-of course, princess. There’s… this way. The second wing. We don’t have enough patients to open it yet.”
“That would be perfect.” The princess turned, and together they made their way down another hallway. It led somewhere very much like the long room full of cubicles, except that the cloth dividers had been folded gently and the wire hangers were empty. Jackie could see into each of the little spaces—they weren’t large.
Is this what they’re going to do to me? A cot all by itself, without even a chair for visitors? They weren’t even proper hospital rooms. No toilet, no television… if anything, it reminded Jackie of old photos she’d seen of 1900s era hospitals, filled with suffering victims of the Spanish flu.
“Do you think you’re going to need this much space?” Jackie asked, finding her voice was shaking. There hadn’t been any formality with this princess—none of the pomp and circumstance the palace and guards led her to expect. Maybe she wasn’t supposed to talk to her at all. But Harley hadn’t warned her of anything like that.
The princess sighed from up ahead, loud enough for Jackie to hear. “I very much expect so, regrettably. The enemy we’re facing appears determined to destroy as many lives as possible. She can make no better case for the dangers of your true nature than destroying the spells and minds of as many people as possible. The soul is a fragile thing, Jacqueline. You take it for granted, but it is so easily damaged. And once broken, it is far harder to set right than a broken limb.”
Jackie found herself shuddering. Her voice quavered on the edge of tears. “Am I… am I broken? Like the people here? Are you going to leave me here?”
“No,” Harley whispered into her ear from behind. “Even if they tried, I’d bust you out. Promise.”
Gentle Night looked like he’d heard that time, because he pointed an angry wing at Harley.
Luna silenced him with a glare. “Why don’t you… find some tea or something, Night. I’ll need you to entertain the changeling while I treat her friend.”
“Changeling?” Night’s voice cracked with a little fear.
But Jackie found herself too afraid to laugh. “I’d rather if Harley was there, Princess,” she said. Far more respectfully than she’d ever spoken to Sunset Shimmer.
This was a real princess. Everything she did only made her more certain of it.
“I’m afraid that will not be possible.” Luna settled down beside the wheelchair, sounding genuinely sympathetic. “She can remain nearby—but not close enough that her presence could interfere. Through no fault of her own, your friend is a changeling. Her magic would interfere with mine. I’m sure Harlequin wants the best possible chance for your full recovery.”
“I’ll… get some tea,” Night muttered, taking off with a flurry of wings and flying for a door set high in the wall above them.
“I do,” Harley said. She leaned around from the wheelchair’s other side, pressing herself briefly to Jackie’s chest. She could feel the warmth of her, her hummingbird heartbeat. Felt soft feathers brush against her. “She’ll take good care of you, Jackie,” she whispered. “And when she’s done, it’ll be my turn to take care of you. I’ve got plans.”
“As I said.” Princess Luna didn’t rush them. Nor did she sound anything but genuinely amused. “You couldn’t have chosen better. Help her into the bed here, Harley. We will begin immediately.”