Marie could hardly walk straight. As they made their way out of the forest, she found herself almost tripping over little rocks and roots.
It didn’t matter that the sky was getting grayer, and that angry clouds were rolling in. It was like the whole world was colored rose—the trees themselves seemed to glow, and the little forest creatures had a whole new life. Marie’s entire world was shattered.
Mum’s always telling me to get my head out of the clouds, but she was the one who was wrong. Magic is real, and so are the ones using it. She still wasn’t sure how she would tell her about it—whether it would be more satisfying to scream “TOLD YOU” before trouncing into her room without explanation, or maybe to casually bring a dragon home for an afternoon. There were so many possibilities.
She was practically skipping with every step, smiling at everything, even Helen’s dumb attitude couldn’t bring her down now. A lifetime of watching the news behind her mother as things got bleaker and grayer and more hopeless, and finally something had changed.
“The queen’s got a message for you, Marie. Earth to Marie,” Helen said, her voice finally bringing her back to reality.
Well, sorta. The world around her was still transformed. This was no forest anymore, and it never could be again. This was the domain of dragons. “What?”
“See, told you. She didn’t hear a word we said,” Helen said.
David nodded, though there was nothing of frustration or anger on his face. If anything, she could see a little of the satisfaction she was feeling. “I think she’s just enjoying being right.”
“Enjoying everything,” Marie said. “Being right is part of it.” They lowered their voices as they climbed under a fence, retrieving their bikes from where they’d left them. Marie’s own rusted chains and slightly squeaky wheel couldn’t bring her down now.
“But think about it… think how much this changes. Next time someone tells me there’s no such thing as magic, I get to laugh. Just think about it, David… how many of the stories might be true? Maybe there’s really a Hogwarts out there too! Maybe there are wardrobes that go straight through to Narnia!” She lowered her voice, making a sound that certainly wasn’t words but didn’t need to be. “Oooh, do you think that unicorn will teach us magic when we come back? I’m ready to learn spells! I could still get an owl this summer!”
“No, you can’t,” Helen said. She couldn’t do more than glower from her bike, but glower she did. “Listen… I admit there was more to it than I thought. It doesn’t seem to be a hoax. Might still be a prank… not sure about that. But it’s not photoshop.”
“WHAT?” Marie slammed her breaks so hard she skipped and smoked forward along the ground for a few seconds. But there were no cars behind them. “David, are you hearing her? Might be a prank…”
But David didn’t share her indignance. “Marie… Marie, I want you to take a deep breath. I saw it, and it was amazing… but just because we saw one thing that doesn’t make sense, doesn’t mean every story you’ve ever heard is true.”
“Yeah,” Helen said, nodding. “Finally, you agree with me.”
“We can’t throw out everything just because we find one thing that doesn’t agree,” David went on. “We only throw out the things that are obviously wrong. Dragons are real… and unicorns too. They can talk… and make things float.”
“Or we all just got dosed with some kind of experimental gas,” Helen suggested. “Could’ve been a… a… hypnotism! Like when those blokes at the fair convince people to get up and muck about like a pig.”
Marie had to fight the temptation to say something very unkind in her frustration. But if you can’t say something nice… Her hands tightened on her handlebars, and the weak plastic handles dented inward with the pressure. “So we’re not gonna help them?” She glared at Helen. “You really think your mum cares about a few oats?”
“No,” she said stubbornly. “She cares about makin’ a fool a’ me, yeah? And if anyone in town ‘eard about me bringing food to an imaginary dragon, Miss Lancaster would be quite cross…”
“Who cares what you maid thinks?” Marie snapped. “David, you had a camera! All we have to do is wait a bit for this imaginary… hypnotism to wear off… then we can watch it. The ride back to your place should be enough, Helen. And you’ve got a laptop.”
“I have,” she repeated. “I guess that’s enough. I want it to be real too, Marie. But I don’t want to look silly when we find out what kinda trick it was.”
“It could be real,” David echoed. “I swear I saw it. I can still see that unicorn if I close my eyes… hear her accent…”
“Strange, that,” Helen said. “Bet there’s a piece to this puzzle there, stuff me if there isn’t. But won’t yer mum kill you if you wait till past dark, Marie?”
Yes. Far off in the distance, probably as far off as the ocean, thunder rolled. They all slowed down for a few seconds, as the whole sky lit up in a flash. But it was still day, and still dry. But for how much longer? If I’m out during a storm, I’ll be grounded for weeks.
“No!” she insisted. “She’s… much more relaxed now. Anyway, this is more important. I’m not gonna let those creatures go hungry just ‘cuz we had to ride around a bit more. I got photos… I’d like to see my mum tell me I’d done wrong after that.”
“Fine!” Helen exclaimed. “We’ll watch the video, after we get to my place. If there’s anything even a little fake, we go home and pretend this never happened. And I mean you, Marie. I don’t want rumors starting on the playground tomorrow.”
“Only if we find out it was fake,” she argued. “Yeah, I agree. If you’re right, lips are sealed.”
But she wasn’t worried about that, not even for a second. The unicorn certainly didn’t match her idea for what a mythical creature ought to be like, let alone sound like, but why would it? She wasn’t stupid—if real magic was like the stories, people would know how to see it. Obviously it would be a little different. I just need to ask the unicorn to teach me.
“You sure that was a good idea?” Smolder asked, as the little group of humans vanished into the forest. “I mean… maybe we should’ve…” She gestured vaguely with one claw. “Magicked them? Yeah, we should’ve magicked them.”
“Magicked them,” Ocellus repeated, staring down the deserted hill. She could hear the distant patter of rain, and felt herself growing even more glad that they had found a cave. Her nose told her the weather would be getting much worse before it got any better.
She’d changed back to herself, abandoning the unicorn disguise. She still couldn’t tell if it would matter—the humans seemed so ignorant of most creatures that they probably would’ve called her an alicorn if she asked. They didn’t know a cockatrice from a griffon. “Magicked them with what spell?”
“I dunno… fear, maybe. Maybe not even them. Just changed into a big monster, made sure they couldn’t get close to the cave.”
“I was sleeping when they came in,” Ocellus pointed out. “We all were. And scaring away the ones bringing food is never a good plan.”
“We still have our… emergency kits.”
There was more noise from behind them, water sloshing around in the cave. Ocellus turned, and saw Gallus emerge into the entrance. He looked a little bedraggled, but better for a little rest. “What’s going on?”
“Those creatures found us,” Smolder said. “Nothing to worry about, they seemed friendly. They’re going to bring dinner.”
“Oh… really? And we were worried enough to be running this whole time…”
“Well… they didn’t know what we were. They didn’t know what to call Equestria, either. I bet they don’t know where Griffinstone or the Dragonlands are.”
“That seems… bad.”
“You could say that,” Smolder said. “But we shouldn’t panic. We’ve sent out our message… I’m sure we’ll be hearing back soon. It was delivered, right? When it vanished like that…”
“Yes,” Ocellus said. “It would’ve turned to ash and burned the regular way if the spell didn’t take. It worked.”
“So all we really have to do is hide,” Smolder said. “Boring as a century-dead Dragonlord, but…” She reached up, rubbing the broken scale with a bandage. “Might be the best for everyone else. You don’t want those creatures mad at you.”
“Humans,” Ocellus supplied. “They’re humans, and they seemed nice. The ones who came here acted like little fillies and colts, younger than us. But that might be normal behavior. We don’t have anyone to compare against.”
“And I’m not sure they’re really on our side,” Smolder said. “Creatures can lie. They can trick each other… say things that will get them what they want. If they’re going to bring back more creatures in yellow and black…”
“They won’t,” Ocellus said. But for as confident as she sounded, she was watching the cave entrance closely. She still counted the number of metal birds that flew overhead, attentive for any change in their behavior. If Marie, David, and Helen had lied to them, then they could expect the change soon.
But it was getting hard to hear them over the sound of the weather. A bad storm was coming. “I think we should get some firewood,” Smolder said. “Before the whole forest is soaking wet and nothing will burn. I for one don’t want to be cold all night. Wanna come, birdbrain?”
“Sure thing, scale head.” Gallus looked to Ocellus. “You wanna help? You could be something strong.”
“I’m trying to figure out how to be one of them,” she said. “I’d rather keep thinking about it. You go ahead. But don’t fly, and stay under the trees. If you hear any metal birds, find somewhere really thick and hold still. We still don’t know if any other humans are nice, or if we got the only good ones.”
Her friends didn’t argue with her, and soon enough they were gone.
Ocellus settled onto her haunches in the cave, watching as the light stretched longer outside. There was the sound of life from the cave behind her—a promise that her other friends would be awake soon. Gallus and Smolder returned a few times, building a pile of increasingly-damp wood. They came back dripping, or steaming in Smolder’s case, but they kept going back out.
“That’s… probably good…” Gallus said, when all his fluff had squashed flat and he looked like a bird who needed a few more hours in the nest. “Not that I’m… eager… to go back in there. Maybe we could make the fire right here. Those trees should hide the light.”
Ocellus could sense his fear, and she nodded quickly. “Yeah, we could make it out here. As long as we don’t make it too large. Sorry, Smolder.”
“Wasn’t planning on it anyway,” the dragon said. She picked a dry patch of cave, and circled around it with stones. There was more of a respect for fire there than most dragons—but living with ponies was wearing off on her.
“Yona is wet,” the yak announced from behind them. “And very hungry. She hopes we will not eat more dried pony-food tonight.”
“We… might not,” Ocellus said. She still sat against the back wall, where she could watch the trail outside with ease. It was nearly night now, with what little light remaining turned to feeble gray by the thick black clouds. “I think we made some new friends. They should be back any minute.”
She could only hope. Even Ocellus was getting hungry, and she had all her friends to keep her company.