Despite her shaking, Rarity had the presence of mind to cast a delving spell for signs of life on the other side of the supply room door before opening it and stepping out into the hall again. Her movements were shaky and her hoofsteps stumbling, as though she had been out galloping past the point of exhaustion.
Drained and frazzled as she was, the danger of her predicament was slow to sink in: not only had she walked into a trap set by some new power that the green-eyed stallion had warned her about, but she’d come desperately close to outing his presence to the ‘real’ Resistance, whom she’d still need to convince to work with him if they were to recover the Elements. She shivered as she thought of the unsavory methods he’d used to deal with those who got in his way, and blanched at the question of what specifically he must’ve done to alienate his former allies.
“This world was never meant to be,” she whispered. “Such acts should not be countenanced…” Yet her mind was drawn to the question of what Filthy might’ve been willing to do if he’d known Diamond Tiara was still alive down in Tartarus, or what she herself might consider doing if she could yet save her parents, or Sweetie Belle.
She pressed her eyes closed and tried to drown the nascent memories of those she’d lost. Of all the love they’d shared, and all the petty squabbles that came hoof-in-hoof with their connection. But inevitably, Rarity’s thoughts drifted to the day their bond had been shattered. To watching them cry out to her, and hold out hooves to her, screaming, as long jets of molten sunshine scoured the ground and cooked the very air between them. The fear in Sweetie Belle’s eyes as she’d been blasted clear from where their parents met a swifter fate, only to trip and slide into a fissure that had been cut into the ground…
“Lady Rarity?”
She jerked. Moondancer stood before her, with nervous tension writ across her features. “Lady Rarity, I need your help,” Moondancer whispered.
“I… I’m very sorry. Just reflecting on some things that I’ve been reading.” She furrowed her brow as she absorbed the sight of Moondancer’s fear-filled countenance. “Darling, what is the matter?”
A grimace stole across Moondancer’s muzzle. “You saw the stallions out in the lobby, right? Well, I don’t think they’re here to read anything. The way they move, and talk… I think they’re here to kill somepony. I think they almost went after me when I stepped away from the desk to come find you!”
Rarity bit her lip. “How many of them are there?”
“At least five inside. There might be more outside, though.”
“The back door should be clear,” Rarity said, pulling her into a trot down the the long hall. A door with an exit sign hanging above it awaited them.
“What? Ma’am, with all due respect, how can you be sure?”
Before Rarity could think up an explanation, she felt herself pass through another field of something that crackled like unseen electricity. Her eyes went wide, and she looked back toward the lobby, unsure whether she should press onward or try to hide.
“We’ve got movement!” somepony shouted.
A pair of stallions came galloping into the hallway. “There she is!” one shouted. “Are we doing this?”
Rarity felt a fresh surge of panic. She gripped Moondancer’s withers and tried to pull her toward the door, but Moondancer stood motionless, mouth agape, eyes wide, seeming almost frozen. “We must run!” Rarity shouted. “This isn’t the time to let nerves get the better of you!”
But then as still more ponies came surging up behind the pair already headed her way, she found herself facing the very real possibility that she might not be able to escape with Moondancer. Rarity cuffed her, shook her, and pulled harder, but still Moondancer stared transfixed by the attackers.
It was with a feeling of deep shame that Rarity broke away and galloped down the remaining hallway with all speed. Behind her came the heavy hooffalls of the stallions in hot pursuit. Moondancer gave a muffled shout—likely from being overtaken and subdued, though Rarity kept her eyes fixed on the door.
Moments later, Rarity felt a sensation like something clamping down around her right hind leg. She jerked to a sudden stop, tugging at the magic bond and letting out an involuntary scream at the sight of two muscular earth ponies and a unicorn with a lit horn bounding closer. On instinct, Rarity lit her own horn and flung the heaviest object that she had available as swiftly as she could toward the unicorn: the bag of bits hanging from the middle of her uniform. It lanced across the distance between them and struck him squarely in the face.
The unicorn dropped, his hornglow went out, and Rarity confirmed her leg was free. But she didn’t dare try running just yet; the pair of earth ponies were too close. Instead, she dropped into a crouch, gripped their barrels with her magic, and pushed the two of them towards one other. The force was small, yet it was great enough to make them stumble and careen into each other. Both went down in a heap.
“Lady Rarity, stop,” another stallion shouted. “We’re just here to put you in touch with somepony who’d like to talk with you!”
With a sense of dread about whom the stallions might be working for, Rarity took off again, putting on a burst of speed in spite of the burning feeling in her legs and lungs. She flared her horn and worked the doorknob before slamming into the door at a full gallop, blasting her out onto the landing where she’d seen Moondancer arrive earlier. She skidded to a halt, then turned and took the stairs down to the alley running alongside the building three at a time.
“Hey!” a nearby voice called. “Everypony, she’s here! Lady Rarity, hold on! We just want to ask you some questions!”
Rarity’s heart sank at the sight of more stallions rushing toward her from one end of the alley. She looked to and fro, checking the street and the landing again, but she couldn’t see a better escape route than to flee deeper into the alley.
Her hooffalls echoed loudly as she galloped, and her lungs all but screamed at her with un-gasped-for breaths that were now starting to assert themselves. Amid her desperation, she was drawn to the thought that it would be a delightful time for a mysterious stranger with a penchant for violence to swoop in and save the proverbial day. And she grunted with frustration at his ambiguous promise to keep the back way clear—evidently he’d meant just the door, and not the alley beyond? But despite her efforts, she could tell she was losing speed, and her pursuers were closing quickly.
A sound from behind drew her attention back toward the Archive. Rarity gasped involuntarily as she saw Moondancer come screaming down the stairs as well, with a dozen more stallions hot on her hooves.
Rarity wished she’d have been able to help Moondancer escape, but her thoughts came slowly between loud gasps for air.
It struck her that neither of them was likely to escape. And yet she knew that her aims—and her life—would be in danger if she was taken now, and by Celestia-knew-whom. She felt sure that these ponies weren’t with the Resistance; they seemed too comfortable acting in the open, and the faces of those who spoke were almost unnaturally cheerful. She had to keep running, buying time—
But time had run out.
Just before one of the stallions collided with her, Rarity flared her horn and sent a brief, bright column of light up into the sky, hoping against hope that somepony might see it. She was thrown to the cobbled ground before she could take any satisfaction from it, though. And the stallion who knocked her down was soon joined by others. They grabbed at her, twisting her forelegs painfully as they sought to hold her in place. And for her part, she was still too drained to put up a proper fight.
All she could hope, as they began to bind her legs, was that the real Resistance might take notice of what was happening.
Rarity’s face was forced down to the ground as the stallions continued trussing her up. Hope faded with the little light that she could still see as her left cheek dug painfully into the alley floor.
Then a bright flash of purple lit the alley. The stallions around her shouted and roared. Rarity tried to shift her gaze to look at the source of the commotion, but a pair of heavy hooves on her made it impossible.
“There they are,” shouted a gruff-voiced mare from nearby. “Force authorized—so make it count!”
A series of magical blasts came streaming down the alley. One of them knocked the stallion off Rarity. At last able to roll over and look properly, Rarity’s eyes went wide as she saw more than a dozen earth ponies, and several unicorns, come surging toward the Archive, shouting wordless battle cries. The unicorns laid down covering fire with great sizzling blasts of magic, and the earth ponies rushed to meet their foes head-on.
Rarity struggled against her bonds, before lighting her horn and starting to cut them. She let her breaths come loudly as she worked, sucking in as much air as her body wanted, slaking its desperate craving. The jangling feeling of adrenaline waned as she managed to get her front legs free.
Just then, there was another flash of bright purple—and a unicorn with a lit horn appeared next to her.
“It’s going to be all right,” said the unicorn. Rarity furrowed her brow and reflected on the mare’s slightly peevish voice being familiar from somewhere. “Try to hold still, please. The Cutie Un-Marking spell can be uncomfortable, but we need it so you can’t be traced when we teleport out of here.”
Rarity gasped as recollection finally came to her. One hoof flew up to cover her mouth; the other pointed at the purple-coated and -maned unicorn standing above her. “You! The Mistress has been looking for you!” But then she looked down at the unicorn’s sides and felt an even greater shock. “How is it that you aren’t an Alicorn?!”
The unicorn fixed her with a look that was all knit brows and crinkled muzzle. “Nightmare Moon wants me? But I’m not an Alicorn… according to legend, the world only makes as many Alicorns as it thinks it needs…”
“What’s the delay?” asked a solid-looking bluish-grey earth pony—the one with the gruff voice—who came trotting up next to them.
“Who are you?” Rarity demanded, meeting the hard expression in the mare’s light green eyes.
“Wait!” shouted a voice from within the nearby melee. Rarity craned her head and frowned. It was Moondancer, now galloping towards them. “Wait, you’re with the Resistance, aren’t you! I’ve helped out a little bit! Picked up messages for you! You have to—” She shrieked as somepony grabbed her.
“I got you!” The earth pony batted her unevenly-cut light-grey mane away from her face, then took off galloping in Moondancer’s direction. But she only made it a short distance before her legs became ensnared in the unicorn’s magic. She turned her head back, snarling wordlessly.
“No heroics,” the unicorn shouted. “Stick to the mission—we need to get home from this!”
“Let me go, Twi—”
“No names!” The unicorn added a band of force over the earth pony’s muzzle.
“But you… were an Alicorn,” Rarity said, still overwhelmed by the thought.
“I wish! Now hold still…” The unicorn flared her horn even brighter and began to weave a spell that defied Rarity’s ability to follow it. Rarity glanced back toward the Archive and saw both sides still engaged in a strenuous battle. The grey earth mare stared daggers back at the unicorn… and after a moment, Rarity caught a brief glimpse of Moondancer, who was still screaming piteously in the midst of the fight.
Sudden pain wracked Rarity’s body as the spell settled over her. She arched her back, gasping, as a hammer-blow of disorientation rendered her unsure of what was happening. Her tongue felt dry; her lips felt drier.
As she tried to focus, Rarity heard the sound of metal scraping on glass. She looked up in time to see the unicorn finish screwing a jar closed tightly. A light-blue glow emanated from within, but the unicorn’s hooves blocked her ability to see more.
The unicorn quickly placed the jar into her satchel and brought out a peculiar metallic device in her hoof. Faint recollections of recently seeing a similar device in action teased Rarity’s mind, but she was simply too overcome to recall them with any level of clarity.
Just before the purple unicorn depressed a button on its surface with her other forehoof, Rarity’s eyes were drawn down toward her own flanks by a new and insistent feeling of discomfort.
The sight that greeted her was not three blue diamonds, but two grey bars.