//------------------------------// // 78 The Dragon's Heart, Part One // Story: Continuity Disrupted // by Doug Graves //------------------------------// Spike bandies around the spotless kitchen of the Golden Oaks Library, holding his breath as his fills both of his picnic baskets with the delicious pastries Celestia’s royal guards brought. The saccharine stench lingers in the air, and he smiles as the last bit of wavy rainbow icing disappears. He shudders to himself; these sugary concoctions always mess with his nose, way too rich for his tastes. A big bowl of strawberry ice cream, studded with gems? Now that’s more like it! Maybe Twilight has some left over? He can’t help but glance at the four heavily muscled stallions currently sitting around the kitchen table as he makes his way to the freezer. Their eyes warily dart between him, the remains of their afternoon lunch/dinner on four crumb strewn plates, and through the open window at the trunk of one of their two chariots, wherein lies, tucked away in the corner and barely visible, a modest bag of single bits and a well-worn pack of playing cards. Three of them have bored expressions on their faces, though every time their eyes wander to the fourth nervous wreck of a guard they can’t help but sigh, though impossible to tell whether in condemnation or commiseration. Their eyes almost immediately pull away to watch the dragon scurry around, or inspect the crumbs and debate whether it would be too soon to lick the creamy remains off. “So!” Spike almost shouts as he grabs one of the three remaining ice cream pops, trying to contain his excitement at being around the paragons of the Equestrian Guard. His voice raises over the three sets of hooves approaching the library, “What’s it like being a guard for the Princess? You guys see a lot of action?” The stallions each spring to attention in their seats. Or at least attempt to given that the table is in their way and they each tried to push it away from them. Four loud thunks later and they are standing, the newly dented table clattering as it falls to the side. They shout in unison, “Ma’am, No Ma’am!”, their faces locked in a neutral scowl. Five heads turn at the bang of the front door opening. Shining Armor struts in, followed by Twilight Velvet and Night Light. The Captain of the Guard narrows his eyes, his ears flicking as he grabs the light saddlebags, lifting them onto his withers before grabbing Velvet’s and Night Light’s as well. He turns towards the two chariots parked outside, dutiful resolve plain on his face. “Huh.” Spike scratches his side as he cocks his head to the side, now as askew as the table. “I guess it’s not a very hard job, then?” The guards look stricken as Shining Armor stops in his hoofsteps. The captain slowly turns his head, then his body, taking one heavy step after another as he walks up to the first stallion in line. His steely gaze bores into them, focusing on each stallion in turn. His eyes pause on the third, the faintest gulp visible from the stallion. Shining Armor stops. “If they were looking for a hard job, there are plenty of poles in the lower district. Isn’t that right, sir?” “M-ma’am, yes ma’am!” the guard stammers, sweat beading despite the cool afternoon. Shining Armor’s voice drops, a strained whisper, “I don’t know what prompted her Highness to crack down, but I better not hear of another incident. Got it?” Several seconds pass, silent but for the sweat dripping off the guard; nopegasus wants to patrol Canterlot’s cramped underbelly, especially in plainclothes. “Ma’am! News to report.” “Yes?” Shining Armor states, looking to the last stallion in line, a faint smile on his muzzle, his eyes never straying back to the relieved stallion. “Lovebird is scheduled to be on the incoming train, arriving shortly.” Shining Armor considers this, glancing back to the two chariots waiting outside. One hoof absentmindedly strays to his barrel, slowly rubbing circles. “What did your orders say of my return to Canterlot?” A hint of a smile can be heard in the timber of the stallion’s voice, “Report for duty at thirty minutes before the dawn. Ma’am.” “Excellent.” Shining Armor looks over the four pegasus as he shucks Velvet and Night Light’s packs, a dismissive nod. “See you all in Canterlot.” “Yes, Ma’am!” comes the enthusiastic reply. The first two guards walk past the downed packs, the third guard grabbing them with a wing as the four walk out. Shining Armor lingers for a moment as Twilight Velvet and Night Light wave goodbye, following the guards to the two chariots. A burst of motion later and the six are airborne, the captain glad to keep his hooves on the ground once again. He turns to the young dragon standing next to the locked basement door, his little sister’s long time assistant, ward, and friend. “Spike?” Shining Armor starts, though he doesn’t wait for a reply. “Are you happy?” Spike rubs one claw against his chin for a few seconds as his gaze drifts from the unicorn to the window. “Yeah, I guess I am.” The dragon chuckles, a short rumble, “I mean, it’s not like she’s trying to replace me, you know? She would have found somestallion or another eventually. Like you did!” Spike nervously chuckles, “Well, you know, not somestallion, but somemare, or somepony, or someone!” “Right on, dude.” Shining Armor raises the top of his hoof to the middle of his forehead - not the side like a normal guard salute - and makes a clicking sound with his tongue as he dips his head down. “Catch ya later.” “Not if I catch you first!” Spike retorts with a strained laugh. Shining Armor winks at Spike as he turns one last time, a wayward glance at one of the picnic baskets. A flap opens, one of the pastries levitating to the unicorn’s smiling mouth as he takes his leave. Spike grins to himself as he looks over the library section. Twilight put her trust in him to run things in her absence, and he came through with flying colors, if he does say so himself. “And I do say so myself!” Spike says to himself, smirking and nodding. Even if there had been a suspicious shadowy figure lurking around the door to the basement hours ago. And then Meringue came by to help organize things; that filly is such a big help. She even managed to find the old book on herding that Twilight asked him to find! “Heh, wouldn’t have wanted those stallions to see you,” Spike says as he hoists A. Barrystar’s Guide to Herding, Volume Two - Positions and Soliciting from the table next to the cracked open basement door. He shakes his head, stifling a yawn. “Somehow, I thought the pictures would be better, though the centerfold is kinda nice. But why would Twilight need a book on the legalese of adding members to a herd, and conflict resolution?” Spike dumps the dirty tome onto the floor by the entrance; Twilight Sparkle doesn’t like searching for her light reading. “Hah!” Spike says aloud, a claw waving away the dust as he hoists the two picnic baskets chock full of goodies. He snorts, taking a deep breath of the sugar laced air, “I’ve been around enough dusty books that I’m immune to your charms! I’m Twilight’s number wua… wua…” Spike sniffles as his waving draws a few more wisps of sugary goodness to his nostrils. Shutting the picnic basket merely pushes the rest of the motes closer to him. “Aah-choo!” A torrent of green fire spits out of Spike’s mouth, enveloping the thick book. Hundreds of illustrated pages of lubric legal material goes up in flames. The only remaining piece is the centerfold, a glossy illustration of a stallion canoodling with five different mares in five different positions on five different nights. “But, the articles!” Spike wails, his claws scratching at the sides of his head. “Twilight said she just wanted it for the articles!” He stares at the charred remains, ideas whirring through his mind like little embers drifting through the air, just looking for a nice, dry bit of tinder. He could blame it on Meringue! Yes, the filly is always getting into trouble, lighting things on fire! The book was just like this when he got it from her! He picks the book up, a mound of ash dumping onto the floor. Oh, wait, it’s Applebaum who lights things on fire. Ugh, Twilight would see through that way too fast. And he should probably clean that up before she gets back, especially if he has to take dinner out to the herd. Spike nervously looks back and forth, a high pitched whine rumbling around in the back of his throat. He finally grabs the blackened cover, picks a random spot on one of the highest shelves, and grabs the picnic baskets. He stops in his tracks as the door to the basement creaks shut. “H-hello?” Spike nervously asks what should be an empty library, though evening shadows are beginning to play around the stacks of books. He quickly scans around. The kitchen is clear, the shelves of books still as poorly organized as Twilight can make them, that weird brown feathered statue he’s never seen before is standing still as a statue, and all the windows and doors are shut. The quiet scrabble of claws against the wooden floor is quite disturbing, though. “I-is anypony there?” Spike checks behind, then above him, before his attention returns to the sound. No Rainbow Dash inspired pranks are immediately apparent, no Pinkie Pie lurking in the shadows and trying to get an early sniff and snatch on the pastries. “I’m a dragon!” he calls out, whirling around again as he drops the baskets. He brandishes his quill-length claws, “I’ve got claws and fire breath! So show yourself!” “Hoo?” comes the call from right next to him as the scrabbling ceases. Spike startles back before exclaiming, “Me! Spike!” He spins around again, but nothing! Just that weird statue looking at him with giant saucers for eyes. He cautiously creeps to the other side before he spots a green alligator lurking behind a stack of books. It takes ages, but the alligator turns one eye to regard him, the other staring off into space. “Oh! It’s just you, Gummy.” Spike pauses as he notices an odd glint in the alligator’s eyes. That annoying “Hoo?” again, this time from right behind him. “Gummy!” Spike shouts, huffing at the weird echo in the library. Maybe Twilight cast some ventriloquist spell on Gummy? And he learned how to talk? Well, it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing Twilight has done today. “There something wrong with your eye?” “Hoo!”, again from behind him. “You! Gummy! I’m looking right at you, isn’t that enough of a clue?” Spike huffs, though he realizes that he hasn’t noticed the alligator’s throat moving. “Plus, it should be ‘whose’. Not that Twilight drilled that sort of thing into me.” “Hoo?” At least this one sounds as confused as he is. Spike sighs, crossing his arms. “Twilight? She runs the library? I’m sure you’ve met.” He pauses, considering for a moment. “Maybe you haven’t met? She should really come on more pony pet playdates.” He raises a wary eye as the alligator opens his jaws, revealing a wide set of gums. “Heh!” Spike laughs, backing up as he smiles. “Yup! That’s why they call you Gummy!” “Hoo?” “Okay, this is just getting old!” Spike yells, spinning around to find whatever keeps making that annoying ‘who’ noise. Just the weird feathered statue of an owl. Now with the head on the wrong way. And it’s still staring at him. “Huh,” Spike says, raising a claw to his chin. He waves one claw at the statue, “I’m pretty sure that wasn’t like that before.” “Hoo!” the definitely alive owl shouts, raising its wings in a quick salute. “Ahh!” Spike says, stumbling backwards, his foot landing square in the open jaws of Gummy. The alligator clamps down on his leg, hard. Harder than any time Twilight had squeezed him in a hug, harder than the time a full shelf of books landed on him, and definitely harder when the wooden shelf landed on his foot afterwards. Spike screams in surprise and pain as he is wrenched off his feet, Gummy’s body thrashing into what he lucidly recalls as a death roll.