They drove. Ocellus had lost track of just how long they’d been driving—long enough that some part of her just wanted to get out and fly. But however much she wanted to leave the humans behind, these were also the only intact humans she’d met so far that were friendly. There’s no telling what happened to Marie’s mind after what I did to her.
It was selfish reasoning—probably they would’ve been safer to leave behind. But somehow she didn’t think they would’ve agreed. They wanted their friend back. I was wrong about how much you humans need friendship school. They’d come for her in the middle of the night, despite the dangers hunting them. They were coming now, across the whole country. That kind of loyalty would’ve made even Professor Dash proud.
Ocellus winced, looking up with a squeak. She felt some of that emotion on her now, the same way a changeling always did when another creature felt emotions for the one they were pretending to be. It was badly-needed food after a bitter evening with Marie’s mom, and it was coming from David just beside her.
“That isn’t your snoring?” Ocellus asked in a whisper, glancing to one side. She could feel the human’s weight against her side, and now he shifted, embarrassment flooding him.
“N-no.” His voice was just as quiet, and the snoring didn’t stop. It was coming from the bench seat across from them, where Helen was sprawled with a jacket rolled up under her head. “Sorry. Was just… adjusting my music.”
An obvious lie, she could tell that without her magic. But now he was shuffling with the phone. Ocellus hadn’t noticed, but… there was a little string running out of it, straight into both of his ears. More human magic?
“Music? You want to sing together? I thought only ponies did that.”
“U-uh…” He blushed, then pulled out the string furthest from her. There was a little piece of plastic on the end of the string, a little thicker than the rest of it. “Can I?” He didn’t wait for her permission, just reached up and settled the thing into her ear.
Ocellus’s ears went as wide as saucers as the sound washed over her. It was like nothing she’d ever heard before—instruments that Equestria had no names for, perfectly structured sound mixed with a single human singing as in-tune as a pony could. Ocellus tensed, expecting the flood of emotion she felt to bring magic with it—but none came, other than the magic radiating from David beside her.
“What is this?” Was her mouth watering? She closed it, swallowing. Stupid old habits.
“Do you… not have music?” David’s eyebrows went up, his embarrassment vanishing. Good. Tastes better this way.
“Of course we do!” Ocellus stuck her tongue out at him for a few seconds. “Just… not like this. Is there more?”
He played more, a seemingly endless array of sounds echoing out from between the little white string attached to the phone. They have as many sounds as they have machines!
Occasionally they were interrupted—usually when the driver asked for clarification on directions. But Helen kept snoring, and Ocellus kept listening. She hardly even noticed as she curled up with David on the other seat, resting against his chest as she selected the next piece of music from his phone.
“I don’t understand…” Ocellus muttered, as the first light of dawn began to shine in through the windows. They were made of a strange glass, one that didn’t let in much of the light. It didn’t hurt the way she expected it to. “How can… how can you be the same creatures?”
“Same creatures as…”
She shook her head, navigating it to the same magical newspaper he’d used, until she found a picture with the metal ships. “One minute you’re making such beautiful music… then you go and make these! Why can’t you make up your mind?”
David met her eyes with innocent confusion. There was no manipulation there now. He actually didn’t understand why she was so upset. “If you think that’s cool, wait until you watch a movie. Uh… do you think we have time for…” He caught the phone in his hand, and hers too.
David froze, eyes widening. Ocellus still felt like she knew almost nothing about humans, but this… she didn’t need to have read in any book to know this wasn’t something that was supposed to happen by accident.
She let go, blushing involuntarily. “I, uh…” She looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m… still getting used to looking like this. It’s… confusing.”
“Yeah.” He sat back against the seat, pulling out the string that sounded like a whole band in Ocellus’s ear, and wrapping it up around the phone as though it were nothing more important than a minor accessory. “Confusing for us too. My dad says it will be easier when I get older, but I don’t believe him. He seems just as confused as I am, just about different things.”
Across the car, Helen wasn’t snoring anymore. Without knowing why she knew it, Ocellus pulled suddenly to one side, so that she wasn’t so much as touching David’s knee anymore. As the human girl yawned and sat up, the two of them were looking away from each other, without any sign of what had just happened.
“How close are we?” Helen asked, glancing out the window once and rubbing at her eyes.
“Uh…” Ocellus concentrated, then pointed. “Very! Next time we get a chance to turn that way, then… just a little distance away.
The dense human city had given way to rolling, comfortable countryside, with only an occasional human house with little lights on in the windows. The roads were smaller here, and the other cars riding down them rarer. More often than not they were big and blocky, with stern-looking humans sometimes visible inside.
But none of them seemed to be headed the same way they were, because the little dirt road they turned onto had no sign other cars had used it recently. There were none parked along it, and no army of angry humans ready to do… who knew what?
Her friends had found a much better place to hide than some damp cave—this house looked quite comfortable. A little like Fluttershy’s cabin, except that there were no stables for visiting animals.
About time I see them again. I only wish it was under better circumstances.
Something hit her as they neared the house—a wave of intense suspicion so powerful she covered her face with one arm and whimpered. Where was it coming from? She looked around… and just as quickly, it was gone.
“You all right, mate?” Helen asked. “Look a bit queasy there. Did ya’ not get enough sleep?”
Ocellus shook her head, and as she did so the foreign pressure on her mind cleared. She leaned out the window, searching for what could’ve produced it—but there was nothing there.
Are you trying to reach me from home, Uncle? You could’ve chosen a more positive emotion to send. “It was nothing,” she said. “Just… let’s go check on your friend.”
“You mean teach her to be normal again, right?” Helen asked. “You promised you would.”
“Right,” she lied. “Yeah, let’s do that.”
Marie didn’t hear the car approach from down the path, not with the telly playing so loudly in the living room. But then her friends got close, and she found she knew instantly that someone was about to open the door.
“Something’s coming,” Smolder said, peeking through the blinds. “Can’t tell if I’ve seen those humans before or not.”
“You have,” Marie said, taking the pan she was working on off the heat. She’d woken up this morning to a kitchen with a few food items waiting for her—eggs, milk, cheese, and potatoes, and a smug dragon with her claws propped up on the table. She hadn’t said where she got them, only that “no one saw.” “It’s Ocellus and my friends.”
“Oh, good. ‘Bout time she get here.”
But now breakfast would have to wait, because they were getting visitors. Her friends were there, but they weren’t alone… “Ocellus? My mum let you go cross country in the middle of the night?”
It was too good to be true, impossible to believe. It was possible she’d be allowed out of the house like this on a school trip, but that was it. Helen brought you here.
“Not exactly,” came the voice in her mind, all the confirmation she needed. “I’m sorry, Marie. But this is bigger than you and me. Our countries could go to war if we don’t stop it. Do you want that?”
“No!” she answered instantly, but almost as soon as she’d said it she felt resentment settle on her. Obviously she didn’t want war, she didn’t want anyone to be hurt. But why should stopping it be her job?
The door opened, and their three visitors hurried inside. Ocellus seemed to be rushing them, and she shut the door with a decisive click.
Marie just stood in place, watching dumbfounded as her identical copy walked in wearing one of her dresses. Well, not quite identical anymore. “Marie” still had blue eyes, and there were no transparent wings on her back. There was nothing unusual about her, nothing magical or supernatural. I guess I can see why you fooled my mum.
“Marie!” Helen was the first through the doorway, hurrying over to her and wrapping her arms around her shoulder. Her friend didn’t react to the wings, or her eyes, or anything else. Her floral outfit was a bright patch of blue and pink in an otherwise monochrome world.
“Helen.” She returned the hug, squeezing tightly. She no longer felt any desire to finish cooking her omelette. “What are you doing here?”
“No idea.” The girl held on for a few more moments, a hug suggesting months and months apart instead of not quite a day. “Ask the changeling. Probably somethin’ about stealing babies or going Underhill.”
“No.” Ocellus stopped on the other side of the door, a little closer to David than either of them. “To send a message back to Equestria. Those ponies have no idea what you humans are like… and now we do.” She closed her eyes, and in a second the pastel blue and pink quadruped had returned, without any trace of the clothes she’d been wearing.
Smolder hopped off the counter. “Enjoy your vacation Ocellus?”
“Very funny.” She walked past her. “Whoever has the emergency scroll, get it right now! We’re writing back to Twilight.”
Marie looked up, expecting Smolder to object. The dragon had always seemed like their leader. But she didn’t argue, didn’t so much as feel resentment. Only concern, and maybe a greenish twinge of fear underneath, well buried.
“What’s so important?” Silverstream asked, climbing up over the edge of the couch. “Are we in danger, Ocellus?”
“Not us,” the changeling answered, clearing the half-finished puzzle away onto the floor without so much as a second’s hesitation. “Bring me the scroll, you can read what I write. We can’t risk anything stopping us.”
Sandbar produced it from somewhere, and breakfast was suddenly forgotten. Every strange creature gathered around to see what Ocellus was writing.
Not Marie, though. She backed away, over to where her friends were standing in the doorway. She could feel their eyes on her—David most of all.
Marie had expected this, though. Knowing about David’s crush was one thing, but sensing it…
“Does it… hurt?” he asked, reaching up with one hand and touching his forehead.
“O-oh, that?” She imitated him, touching the black chitin with two fingers. “No, doesn’t hurt. Wings don’t much like being under a top, but they don’t hurt when they’re out like this.”
“Can ‘ya fly?” Helen asked. “I mean… obviously we have so many more important things to be worryin’ about right now. But if ya’ happened to try it.”
She shook her head. “Gallus and Silverstream can fly, and I rode on their backs last night. But… I haven’t tried it on my own. Don’t much see how I could, with little wings like mine.”
“Oh, like that matters a lick.” Helen made a dismissive gesture. “Yer a fae lady now, Marie. Fae ladies don’t much care fer what no scientist says can fly. Just watch the movie about the bees, see if they care.”
“I haven’t tried,” she said, before her friend could start quoting it. “I’ve been trying to learn the transformation thing more. So I can…” She didn’t need to finish her sentence. The others nodded sympathetically.
Helen wrapped one arm around her shoulder, squeezing. “We tried to tell ‘er not to go, Marie. But she seemed so caught up on… endin’ the world er somesuch.”
“She thinks her country won’t understand us without her help,” David supplied. “Maybe she’s right, what do we know? Sucks that you have to be the one to suffer because of it, though.”
“It’s… no big deal,” she lied. “I’m just happy to see you two again.” And that part wasn’t a lie.
“Done,” Ocellus declared, rising from the table and passing the scroll in her magic towards Smolder. “Here.”