Sunken Horizons

by Goldenwing


XI: Of Sacrifice

The room felt even more cramped than usual.

Of course, all of Captain Piaffe’s residence was cramped, but the bedroom that Rarity and Pinkie Pie had been granted normally had a warm, homely feel to it. Now that Rarity had spent the last hour or so pacing restlessly across the small room, however, the walls were beginning to creep in whenever she looked away. Perhaps it was the shadow under the door that marked the presence of the bluecoat standing guard out in the hall. Perhaps every room felt smaller when you were no longer allowed to leave.

Rarity pursed her lips, bringing her mind back to the present. They had been rushed back to Piaffe’s home hours ago in the wake of the explosion, earning several suspicious leers from the Friesland soldiers. Captain Piaffe had barely spared them a word as they were pushed through the streets, but rumor traveled almost as fast as the shockwave of the blast. The barons had sent saboteurs into the city, or they had hired mercenaries from abroad, or they had dug a tunnel under the wall, or it was sympathizers among the Frieslanders themselves, or, or, or.

By the time Piaffe had ushered them over the threshold of her home, all Rarity knew for certain was that a ship had crashed into a munitions depot, destroying one of the city’s granaries and who knew how many lives. The strange, sheltered distance with which the common citizens had regarded the war had been shattered in an instant, and Rarity found herself glancing towards the door every few minutes, her ears twitching at every distant thud, wondering if a squad of bluecoats was going to storm inside and declare her and Pinkie guilty of sabotage.

Piaffe had assured them they’d be safe. They had been at the wall during the act, giving them a solid alibi. The guards stationed outside her home confirmed that Pontius had been at the table downstairs writing a letter to his father, and the younger stallion was now sequestered alone inside the guest room, despite his loud complaints about being separated from his wife. He had kept it up for several minutes, pounding his hooves on the door and demanding to see Rarity, but thankfully he’d settled down before the guards grew annoyed enough to do something about it.

Whitehorn, however, was nowhere to be found. He had left that morning with no details as to his destination, and was yet to return.

Rarity shivered as she thought back to the fire in Piaffe’s eyes, of the sharp flap of her coat around her hooves as she marched out into the street, of the two soldiers that had fallen in behind her and the rhythmic creaking of the harnesses holding their guns at their sides. 

“You wait here, dearhearts,” she had said, the playful lilt gone from her voice. “We’ll talk when I get back.”

It was approaching sunset already, and the Captain had not come back.

“Hey, Rares?”

Rarity jumped, looking up to where Pinkie was standing by the open window, one hoof resting on the sill. Her lips were quirked in a concerned frown, an expression that did nothing for the fluttering in Rarity’s breast. “Yes, Pinkie?”

Pinkie tipped her head towards the street. Her mane had lost most of its poof, the curling tip of her bangs drooping low between her glistening blue eyes. “Do you hear this?”

Rarity’s ears turned forwards as she approached the window. The street was bathed in the red of sunset, the light flickering with the distant heat of the fire towards the core of the city, and ponies trotted past with their heads down and their lips set. She glanced west, towards the fire, but couldn’t tell if it had grown or diminished in ferocity since the attack. A thin, acrid smog hung in the air, stinging at her eyes and nose.

A filly stood on a crate next to a stack of thick papers, her little lungs casting her voice over the scene as the stallion beside her waved the broadsheets at whoever would spare him a glance.

“Baron’s launch terror attack against Old Westfort! A hundred deaths and rising, fire spreading through Rampart as Fool Titus marches to enslave us! One bit for Governor Rhea’s official statement and more!”

With a start, Rarity realized that some of the ponies stopping to buy broadsheets were glaring up towards their window, chattering amongst themselves in a resentful hush. She pulled Pinkie away from the window, slamming the panes shut with her hooves.

“Hey!” Pinkie exclaimed.

“I’m afraid it would be best if we keep our heads down, darling, at least for the moment,” Rarity said, eyeing the guard’s shadow under the door. Could she get him to buy a broadsheet for them? Was it worth the risk?

“But we didn’t do anything!”

Rarity’s pacing resumed in earnest. She was glad the carpet kept her hoofsteps from resonating. “No, we didn’t, but ponies don’t always think rationally in times of stress. We should wait for Captain Piaffe to return before getting ourselves involved. She has the respect of the citizens, and she—” Rarity let out a soft gasp, looking to Pinkie and lowering her voice. “Can we trust her?”

Pinkie cocked her head. “Huh?”

“The Captain, darling.” Rarity glanced towards the door as she drew Pinkie in close. “You and her spent a night out on the town, yes? She’s our alibi, but there’s no guarantee that she’d speak for us. What do you think?”

Pinkie gave an adamant shake of her head. “Piaffe isn’t like that, Rarity! She just wants to protect her friends like anypony does!”

Rarity let out a slow breath. “Goodness, that’s a relief. Now if only we knew where Whitehorn was I might actually be able to sit down.”

“You don’t think he did it, do you?” Pinkie asked.

“Heavens, no! He’s a gentlecolt, not a terrorist. I’m merely worried for his well-being.” Rarity bit her lip, thinking of him being caught by a crowd of angry citizens on his own. She tugged at her mane with a hoof, driving the disturbing image from her mind. “Did you see them? Before the crash?”

“You mean Ana and Gava?”

“Hush, dear! Not so loud.” Rarity raised a hoof to Pinkie’s muzzle, glancing back at the shadow under the door. Had it moved? Did the guard mare have her ear to the door? Rarity turned back to her Pinkie, speaking in a quiet whisper. “Familiarity may be mistaken with partnership in times of tension. We should wait until we can all discuss it together before associating ourselves with the perpetrators.”

Pinkie frowned, tugging Rarity’s hoof away with one of her own. She at least had the decency to whisper back. “But they could be getting away right now! And what if they come back to hurt more ponies? We were on the wall, Rare-bear! How could we have helped them steal a ship?”

“Pinkie, you saw how those ponies were looking at us.” Rarity jerked her head at the shut window. A thought occurred to her, and her horn glowed as she pulled the curtains closed, just to be safe. “Suffice to say, darling, they weren’t exactly wondering how to replicate our manestyles. We must tread carefully.”

Pinkie’s looked down as she tapped a hoof against her chin. After a couple seconds she let out a sudden gasp, her lips turning up into a bright smile. “I could talk to them! I’m sure they’ll understand once I get everyone to laugh a little!”

“Pinkie, nobody is going to feel like laughing!” Rarity hissed. “This is not the time!”

Pinkie waggled her eyebrows with a confident smirk before turning for the window. “Pfft! I’m perfectly positive there’s no pack of ponies on the planet that Pinkie Pie, pink party pony prodigy, couldn’t possibly palliate to parley!”

“Pinkie Pie, please, pacify yourself!” Rarity rushed in front of her, holding a hoof to the other mare’s shoulder. “This isn’t Ponyville anymore, darling. I know you mean well, but we can’t keep acting like it is!” She sighed, slumping down onto her haunches and resting her head in her hooves with a weak moan. “Sweet Celestia, I can’t keep acting like it is.”

How many times had she failed now? She’d been unable to defend herself from Duke Titus and helpless in her attempts at negotiation with Governor Rhea, and every day more ponies died. How was she supposed to bring peace to an Equestria that rejected it at every turn?

Rarity stiffened at a solid thud from downstairs, followed by muffled hoofsteps. Another thud was followed by the scraping of moving furniture and soft voices. Rarity turned to Pinkie, gesturing towards the bedroom door and whispering, “Watch the door, please.”

Pinkie gave an emphatic nod, sneaking over to the door with an exaggerated gait that, for whatever reason, seemed to keep her wheels from creaking. Rarity’s horn glowed as she pulled the rug off the ground, rolled it up, and leaned it neatly against a wall before she leaned down and pressed her ear to the tiles.

It was difficult to hear through the stone floor, but after screwing her eyes up and making a few adjustments to her position she found herself able to make out scattered words.

“...too easy going… shouldn’t be… escorts.” 

That sounded like Piaffe, speaking in the stern tone of her rank instead of the casual tour guide’s persona she’d presented so far.

The next voice was easy to identify as Whitehorn. Calm, personable. 

“...hardly necessary… Countess Rarity?”

Rarity imagined him sitting with his usual cordial posture, his glasses dirtied from the smoke of the fire and his vest rumpled from whatever roughness the soldiers must have put him through. Was there a gun barrel pointed at his head? Manacles holding his hooves down? Rarity’s pulse quickened as she held her breath and pushed her ear further against a crack in the stone, straining to hear more.

“The Countess and her hoofmaiden are none of your concern at the moment. I’ve been lenient, Whitehorn, allowing you to come and go without asking for details. I’ll find out if you’ve betrayed my trust.”

“Captain, I understand that tensions are high. I’m certainly as eager as you are to find justice for this act, but jumping to conclusions is just as likely to ensure they go free as it is to catch them.”

“Let’s cut the doubletalk, Whitehorn.”

“Of course. I’m only trying to help.” Rarity could practically hear the apologetic smile on his face. “I spent the day visiting local printing presses, looking into rates. I can provide a list of establishments if you wish, and I’m sure they’d all corroborate my story.”

“Planning on distributing sheets? Fair warning, love, propaganda against Governor Rhea can be considered treason.”

“I assure you, I have no quarrel with your governor. I see you have my book on your shelf?”

Rarity frowned at that. Whitehorn had written a book? Why hadn’t he ever mentioned it before?

“A riveting read, but we aren’t here to discuss political philosophy over drinks.”

“My apologies, Captain. I like to carry instances of my writing with me, you see, but unfortunately have been unable to replenish my stocks after certain calamities that befell me before coming here. I was simply looking to print a few copies for personal use.”

Her frown deepened. Surely by now he would have shared his writings with her, or mentioned the loss of them after Fellis Island? And couldn’t he have printed more copies at Straterra before they left for Altalusia?

Had she ever actually read anything penned under his name?

She shook herself, refocusing back on her eavesdropping before she missed too much.

“...held in your room while further investigations are made,” Captain Piaffe was saying. “And I will be following up on this list.”

The scraping of chairs and the stomping of hooves reached Rarity’s ear, and with a start she realized that there were ponies ascending the stairs. She threw herself back against the bed, scrambling to return the rug to its proper place with a flick of her horn.

Pinkie arched a brow, leaning in to whisper, “What’d you hear?”

“I’ll tell you later, Pinkie,” Rarity whispered back, brow furrowing as she fussed with the rug. “Does this rug look right? Perhaps over here?”

“It looks fine to me! You’re better at this kinda thing than I am anyways.”

“Yes, darling, but I don’t need to satisfy us!” The hooves were in the hall now. Was that two sets, or three? The shadow under the door shifted as the guard outside snapped to attention. “I need to satisfy them!”

Pinkie cocked her head, her lips scrunched up in confusion. “I dunno, Rares, I think you might find your interior decoration career more fulfilling if you focused on what you want to do instead of pleasing crowds and critics.”

“Ugh!”

There wasn’t time to get it perfect, and she couldn’t exactly remember how the rug had been arranged anyways. She could hear the door across the hall, the guest room where Pontius and Whitehorn slept, opening and closing, and hooves shuffling about outside. With one last push of magic she flattened the rug against the floor and tugged the wrinkles out of her dress.

It was only when the door began to open that Rarity realized her mane still looked as if it had been pressed up against the floor.

“Sorry I took so long, dearhearts.” Piaffe stepped into the room with a calm smile, her voice soft and warm. She blinked, eyes widening as she focused on Rarity. “By the wall, Countess, are you well?”

Rarity smiled sheepishly as she levitated a brush to her mane. She decided to embrace her breathless nerves instead of trying to hide them. “I’ll survive, Captain, even if this dreadful stress and arid air takes its toll on my mane. I hope things are well in the city?”

“As well as they can be, I’m afraid.” Piaffe sighed, closing the door shut behind her. The shadow of the guard outside was nowhere to be seen. “The fire’s contained, for now, and relief efforts are underway. We found Whitehorn as well.” She paused, looking up expectantly.

“Oh, Celestia!” Rarity raised a hoof to her forehead and feigned a fall against the bed frame. She saw Pinkie suppressing a giggle out of the corner of her eye, but Piaffe didn’t seem to notice. “We were so worried! Is he hurt?”

“Just a few scratches, luckily,” Piaffe said, watching as Pinkie stepped over to help Rarity back to her hooves. “We would’ve found him quicker if you’d told us where he went.”

Rarity looked up to Piaffe with wide eyes, fanning at her face with a hoof. “I beg your pardon, Captain, but he doesn’t normally keep us abreast of his every move. I do so hope he hasn’t gotten himself caught up in anything dangerous.”

“That’s yet to be seen, Countess.” Piaffe’s eyes performed a quick scan of the room, causing Rarity’s heart to skip a beat. “For now, however, you should both remain here, for your own safety. I can bring you some food, if you wish.”

“Oh, that would be simply divine, but I don’t think I could stomach a meal while there’s so many ponies in danger.” Rarity breathed a heavy sigh. “Is there anything we could do to help? It would go a long way toward easing my mind.”

Piaffe arched a brow. “You should stay here, love. You could barely even stand when I walked in, and now you intend to go play hero?”

“I was merely overcome with relief, Captain. I know it may seem otherwise at times, but I am a mare of action, and there is little more harmful to my composure than being cooped up inside while those I care about may be trapped in a blazing inferno.” Rarity looked up to meet the other mare’s eyes, taking a deep breath and straightening her stance. “I would remind you that my hoofmaiden and I are powerful Gifted. We could do much to aid the relief efforts.” She paused, tossing her disheveled mane and fluttering her eyes. “Perhaps you could provide escort?”

Piaffe hardened her gaze, turning away and causing her coat to flutter about behind her. “Not until we finish our investigation.”

Rarity blinked, watching open-mouthed as Piaffe opened the door. “Wha—Captain—”

“I’ll bring you some dinner.” Piaffe didn’t even look back.

So that’s it, then? Rarity wondered. The door would close, and she would have failed yet again. Charm, manners, courtesy; none of it seemed capable of getting her into a position to help the ponies of Altalusia. All of her skills were worthless.

But no, there was another side to her. It was not behavior proper for a lady, but as Rarity’s brow furrowed into an ugly crease and her lips pulled back into a shivering snarl, she found that she was getting rather tired of having others tell her when she could and couldn’t help.

“Do not walk away from me!”

Rarity’s horn burst into light, the telltale blue sparkling of her magic wrapping around Piaffe’s coat and tugging the mare roughly back into the room. The Captain yelped in alarm as the magic twisted her back to face Rarity and slammed the door behind her.

“I am trying to help, darling!” Rarity snapped. “I understand you have your suspicions, I truly do, but there are ponies in pain out there and we have done nothing to indicate anything but the best intentions for all ponies involved in this mess!”

Piaffe blinked. One of her hooves reached for something under her coat, but was wrenched back into place by the magic tight around her outfit.

“Why are all you ponies constantly so caught up in your little petty rivalries?! I have been nothing but courteous and polite in the face of your lecherous behavior, cordial in spite of your governor’s callous dismissal of my attempts at peace, and respectful of your every request, and yet you think to lock me away in this room like some—some renegade saboteur! Pinkie and I have barely left your sight since we walked through your gatehouse, Captain! I don’t even care if you want to keep a gun trained on me the whole time, but with Celestia as my witness, I am going to help somepony in this wretched world if it kills me!”

Her breath came out in a heated snort. With a slight start she noticed that the door had been opened again during her tirade, and a bluecoat stallion was standing in the threshold, his eyes uncertain and the trigger string of his rifle between his teeth.

Rarity’s eyes widened ever so slightly as she saw the gun barrel pointed in her direction. A part of her immediately regretted her last statement.

Piaffe coughed, raising a hoof to the soldier. “Down, Ensign. I have this handled, thank you.”

The stallion arched a brow. “You’re sure, Captain?”

“Yes, just a minor diplomatic dispute with the delegates,” Piaffe said, straining to speak past the tightness of her uniform. “I’ll call if you’re needed.”

Pinkie waved a hoof as the soldier hesitated. “Hiya! Don’t worry, Rarity isn’t gonna hurt anypony! We’re just here to help!”

With an uncertain nod, the stallion dropped his trigger string and stepped outside, slowly closing the door behind him.

After a few seconds, Piaffe spoke. “Excuse me, dearheart, but could you slacken up about the neck a tad?”

“O-oh! My apologies. That wasn’t very appropriate behavior.” Rarity gently set Piaffe’s hooves back onto the floor, straightening the other mare’s coat out with her magic.

“It’s fine, Countess, though I’d caution you about doing that around any of the more veteran troops.” Piaffe blew a relieved breath out through her mouth, shaking her head. “I believe perhaps I can empathize with your position.”

Rarity leaned in. “So… you’ll reconsider, then?”

Piaffe sighed. “Yes, yes. I shall escort you to the relief site, for the citizens’ sake. Just you,” she added, turning to where Pinkie was clapping her hooves together with an eager grin.

Pinkie’s face fell. “Aww.”

“I’m taking a risk here, you understand, but—” Piaffe shrugged, meeting Rarity’s gaze once more. “My instincts tell me that you mean well. Be a dear and don’t prove me wrong, or I’ll have to send the rest of your delegation to the dungeons.”

Rarity grimaced, glancing towards Pinkie. The bouncy mare gave her an exaggerated nod and wink. “I understand. Thank you.”

“Exquisite. In that case—” Piaffe gestured towards the door with a flourish “—let us depart immediately.”

It was a short walk out into the street, and Piaffe’s epaulette-decorated blue coat parted the leering crowds like sharpened scissors on fine cloth as they broke out into a steady canter. Rarity had opted to put her mussed up mane into a makeshift bun rather than waste time straightening it. As much as it pained her, there were ponies in danger, and she was finally being allowed to help.

The sun had dipped down below the island line now, and the brilliant red it painted over the clouds was beginning to give way to the flickering yellows and oranges of the fires. Glancing back, Rarity saw an airship floating high to the east, roughly over where she estimated the baron’s siege camps to be. She gasped as it dropped a flickering ball of flame which plummeted through the sky like a miniature meteor before dipping out of sight behind the wall.

“What are they doing?!” she cried, pulling up to Piaffe’s side. “Those airships!”

“It’s called retaliation, love,” Piaffe said. She kept her eyes forward, not even out of breath from the quick pace. “Or did you think we’d take this lying down? Governor Rhea would be a fool to let the barons strike at us like this without some kind of counterattack, and she doesn’t take kindly to the deaths of civilians.”

“Wh—but it isn’t just soldiers in those camps!” Rarity said breathlessly. They turned a corner, allowing Rarity to get a clearer sight of the airship angling away from the burning silhouettes of giant arrows zipping up around it. “I have a friend in there! She’s just a healer!”

“The barons should’ve considered that before they destroyed a fort so old it served more as a landmark than an actual military facility,” Piaffe growled. “There were only a few militiaponies stationed there, but the fire threatened the whole district!”

Rarity couldn’t come up with a real argument for that, and either way she was having trouble keeping her breath as it was. Fluttershy isn’t as helpless as she acts, she assured herself. She’ll be fine.

Or, more likely, she would be rushing to help the wounded. And she may not have anyone to hold her back until the bombing stopped.

The thin layer of smoke in the air stung at her eyes, and Rarity squeezed them shut as she tried to focus on the aching stitch in her chest instead. Stressing over Fluttershy wasn’t going to do anything but impair her efforts to help the ponies she could reach.

Finally, Piaffe began to slow. Rarity sucked in a deep breath as she stumbled to a stop beside the Captain and took in her surroundings.

She had never seen the old fort up close when it still stood, but the shape of the foundation was still apparent in spite of the damage done. The fort’s towers had all collapsed into long lines of rubble two or three times taller than the ponies climbing over them in search of those trapped underneath, and even those parts of the plaza surrounding the fort not blocked off by rubble were pockmarked by loose stones heavy enough to seriously injure anyone they struck. The surrounding buildings, mostly stone, were stained black from the fires that had consumed anything flammable inside them, their tops open to the sky like mouths gaping in shock.

At the center of it all, almost hidden behind the surviving foundations of the fort, was a deep crater with the wreck of an airship half-buried inside. Most of the ship had been scattered around the plaza with the force of the explosion, several of the sharp metal pieces visible embedded in surrounding buildings or even in the street itself, but the prow was still stuck in the center. A few ponies were clambering over the tilted surface, prying at the half-melted door of a cabin with a crowbar.

Rarity’s eyes were fixated on the charred bodies organized into a neat pile like discarded spools of thread, their coats the same ashen black as the teeth visible in their silently screaming muzzles. Moans of pain drifted from a large, burnt out building just beside the pile, and she watched as an exhausted earth mare dragged a stretcher with a deathly still pony towards it. She tipped the stretcher over, dumping the body on the pile with a sound like autumn leaves crunching underhoof. It had been a pegasus once, but now only a pair of red-black stumps poked from its back. 

There was a stench in the air. Rarity had never smelled anything like it before, but it was easy for her to make the connection to the bodies. She doubled over with a grunt, mixing her bile in with the ash coating the cobbles.

Piaffe gave Rarity a sympathetic pat on the back as she wiped her mouth with a handkerchief. “You see what we’re fighting for now, Countess?” she asked softly. “This is why we build our walls.”

Rarity wasn’t sure if she was shaking with fury, pity, or guilt. Anatami’s cocky grin was stuck in her head, mocking her with its predator’s smile. How could she have put her soul into making a dress for a being that would commit such an act? How could she have ever trusted such a monster?

Never again, she resolved. If she was ever unlucky enough to cross paths with the thestral again, she wouldn’t make the same mistake.

“Are you sure you’re up for it, love?” Piaffe asked. “We can head back if it’s too much.”

“N-no, it’s—I’ll manage, thank you.” Rarity straightened up, setting her jaw. “I’ll—I’ll help tend to the wounded.”

Piaffe nodded. “A noble goal. We’ll each do our part.”

Rarity led the way, weaving around the loose rubble and stepping into the stone skeleton of the field hospital. The smell was even stronger here, threatening to overwhelm her, but she would not back down.

A new voice reached her ears. It was a mare’s voice, rough with the accent of the baronlands. “Countess Rarity? Sun ’n sky, is that ye?”

Rarity turned to see a soft pink earth mare approaching her with awe in her eyes, her mane tied up in a high ponytail, her cheeks marred with ash, and her white apron stained with the dark red of dried blood. For a moment, Rarity didn’t recognize her, but then a name jumped to the front of her mind in a flash of memory.

“River Pie,” she breathed, brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you doing here?”

Piaffe was eyeing the skinny mare with undisguised suspicion. “You know this baronlander, Countess?”

Rarity gave a slow nod. “Indeed I do. She and five others attempted to capture me for ransom out in the countryside.”

Piaffe straightened up, reaching into her coat and retrieving a pair of iron manacles. River flinched back at the sound, and several other ponies stole quick glances towards the trio before focusing back on their work. “I shall have her taken to Old Westfort at once.” Piaffe stiffened, glancing out one of the empty windows towards the crash site. “Or, well, I suppose the Rampart Post shall suffice for now.”

“Let’s not be too hasty, Captain,” Rarity said, placing a soft hoof on Piaffe’s shoulder. “I later made a great sacrifice for this mare and her companions, and she’s the only one that didn’t spit in my face for it. Last I recall, however, they were still in the Duke’s dungeon.”

River kept her eyes down, one hoof rubbing anxiously over the other. “Th’ Duke set us free after yer weddin’, Countess.”

Rarity frowned. “I was never told of this.”

“I tried t’ speak with ye,” River said to Rarity’s hooves. “Th’ guards wouldn’t allow me past th’ gate, ’n they kept tellin’ me ye were busy in yer rooms, ’n after th’ first night they started threatenin’ me, so—” she grimaced, shaking her head. “I figured ye were right t’ hate me.”

Rarity raised her hoof to her lips as a soft gasp escaped her. The days following her wedding had since blurred together into a broken mess of self-pity with only a few brief glimpses of lucidity. She knew she had turned callers away from her door many times, everything from servants delivering meals to her friends asking after her well-being. How many times had she rejected River’s requests for an audience without realizing, so caught up in her wallowing that she couldn’t even spare the time to speak to one of the ponies she had sacrificed so greatly for?

“I don’t hate you, River.” She sighed, pursing her lips. “Well, perhaps I did hate you at the time, but I wasn’t quite… in my best mind at the time. I just felt so stupid, so—ugh!” River cringed backwards at the outburst, drawing a grimace from Rarity. “I’m sorry, darling. I’ve just been so stressed lately, and… confused.”

She fell silent, and for a few seconds neither mare said anything. Piaffe raised the manacles again. “Shall I arrest her, dearheart?”

River bowed her head at the question, dipping into a low bow. “Aye, ye should, Captain. Me and mine wronged th’ Countess fer th’ sake of our greed, and we never deserved her.” She paused, taking a deep breath and straightening up to face Piaffe directly. “But I’ve tried my best t’ live up t’ her gift. I work honest labor here in Friesland now, ’n give what time I can t’ th’ service of my fellow pony. If’n ye see fit t’ judge me here, I won’t stop ye.”

Rarity’s eyes widened, her lips parting as a strange fluttering stirred in her core. “I… don’t believe any further punishment is warranted here, Captain. River Pie has already been sentenced for her crimes, and it’s clear to me that she’s seen the error of her ways.”

Piaffe shrugged, stowing her manacles once more. “That’s a relief. It’s more than a stroll to Rampart Post.”

Rarity raised a hoof to River Pie’s shoulder. “Face me, Miss Pie. I’d rather prefer to speak to you eye to eye if it can be helped.”

River stiffened at Rarity’s touch, but complied. Still, her eyes darted from side to side like flighty birds, never staying on Rarity’s face for long. “Thank ye fer yer mercy, my Lady.”

Rarity brought her hoof to River’s chin, guiding the mare’s gaze until it steadied into her own. She offered up a tentative smile. “Would you like to help me make the world a better place, Miss Pie?”

For a long, silent moment, Rarity’s world focused in on the other mare, this one mare whom she had sacrificed so much for in the spirit of harmony. It hadn’t felt like a choice at the time, but the shadow of the decision had haunted her ever since.

But now, at last, Rarity had a sign. A sign that her efforts weren’t for naught. In that moment she knew, if she had truly influenced just this one mare to embrace the forgotten ways of harmony, she might sleep easy again.

At last, River gave a firm nod. “Aye, my Lady. I dunno if I can, but I’ll do everythin’ in my power t’ be worthy of yer gift.”

Rarity released a shaky breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she blinked the wetness out of the corners of her eyes. The uncertainty haunting her faded into memory, giving way to the warmth that pulled her cheeks up into a wide smile.

“You’ve already done enough, darling.”

I made the right decision. It was worth it.

River shot a nervous glance towards Piaffe with a hesitant smile of her own. “Shall we get t’ it, then?”

Rarity shook her head, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “Yes, of course. Where are we needed?”

River waved a hoof around the field hospital. There were over two dozen ponies splayed out on bedrolls, hay stacks, and rag piles. “Everywhere, Countess.”

“We can handle it, Miss Pie, together.” Rarity took a deep breath as she scanned the rows of wounded. There were a few other ponies helping with the healing, but they were clearly overworked. “We’ll just take it one pony at a time.”


Twilight had thought that she understood nightmares.

How many had she been through now? She’d trudged through the broken bones of her home and read the last words of a desperate mare, traversed the literal nightmare realm of an old soldier and a slumbering alicorn, dug through the rubble of a sinking city searching for the bodies of her best friends, and lived through the torment of a malicious entity that sought to twist her mind to match its own image. She’d spent days in the ruins of Canterlot, watching her own body mutate to match the form of the monsters she hid from and witnessing the final result of the transformation in one of her closest friends.

But even she, it seemed, still hadn’t seen it all.

Country mare’s first time in the big city? Midnight asked from atop a pile of bones twice as tall as she was.

Just as much for you as for me, Twilight grumbled.

Midnight snorted. She leaned back with a wistful sigh. Breathtaking, isn’t it?

Stalliongrad had been a city with hundreds of thousands of ponies within its limits, and it showed. The imposing concrete blocks of its buildings had acted like giant drain grates during the floods, catching the bodies of the drowned in their shattered windows and narrow alleys. Looking up, Twilight could see the bony limbs of hundreds of bodies protruding from the cracked building faces like wildflowers, swaying with the gentle ministrations of the ocean current.

But… Canterlot wasn’t like this. She watched as a seapony swam up to the tallest surviving floor and tugged on one of the grisly weeds, snapping it free before disappearing with its treat ensnared between its fangs. Canterlot’s population was almost half as large, and there weren’t nearly as many bodies.

A mystery for the ages, little flower, Midnight mused. I’d prefer if we focused on the mystery of our next meal.

Twilight pursed her lips, turning to the apparition with a sharp frown. It can wait!

For the moment, yes. But you can’t truly expect to parade me through such a plentiful buffet without accepting a few distractions.

There were hundreds of seaponies in Stalliongrad, and other creatures besides. Everywhere Twilight looked she caught glimpses of mutated ponies swimming through the sea, twisted dogs burrowing into the sand, and flocks of small birds swarming through the streets, their beaks rimmed with fangs that were almost comically large compared to their bodies.

It can wait, Twilight repeated, ignoring the way Midnight’s smirk hovered in the back of her mind. It knew she was just stalling. She was loath to kill an innocent creature, even a monster like a seapony, but they both knew she would have to eventually. She was a predator now, whether she liked it or not.

She tried not to think about the fact that they all seemed to be avoiding her. She didn’t like the way that Midnight would cackle in her ear everytime a seapony caught sight of her and sped away.

The thoughtful frown on her face faded as she turned a corner, bringing Stallion’s Palace back into view. She could’ve easily teleported past all the tightly condensed city blocks to save time, but she had opted instead to travel on hoof, taking in the image of Stalliongrad from ground level through the soft glow of her shield, and so it had taken her a couple hours to find her way here.

The Palace was huge, towering over the surrounding buildings so high that Twilight had to sit down and crane her neck to see the massive statue of three rearing ponies on the top, one of each tribe. The central tower jutted out from atop a half dozen lower tiers, each one a wider circle than the one above it and displaying proud rows of thick columns, and the whole building was raised off the ground by a massive slab of concrete accessible only by a long flight of dozens of steps. It had been a marvel of Equestrian architecture at the time of its construction, and the fact that it still stood after everything that happened sent Twilight’s mind racing with questions.

If only she had been able to see it before it was surrounded by bodies at the bottom of an ocean.

She trotted forwards, grimacing at the skeletons that clung to the palace’s stairs and wrapped around its many columns and being cautious to avoid stepping on any bodies. The corpses here were different from those in the rest of the city; many of them wore armor, either rusting plates haphazardly strapped onto the body or the carefully curved outfits of the Royal Guard, and signs of violent death were commonplace. Many of these ponies hadn’t been crushed by rushing waves or slammed against unyielding buildings, but had instead had their skulls caved in by powerful bucks or their bones chipped and scraped by sharp weapons.

Whatever they might have fought over, their bodies had all collected in the same piles in the end.

Ooh, I like that one, Midnight said. A delicious thought.

Twilight rolled her eyes as she started up the steps. A trio of seaponies that had been scrapping over a body at the top scattered as she approached.

What’s your plan here, little flower? Midnight asked. It’s quite a large building to search on hoof, and we only agreed on a day-long detour.

Instead of answering, Twilight poured a burst of magic into her horn. She cast a series of powerful, focused pings, piercing the imposing facade of the Palace in an even pattern. She cocked her head as her attention was drawn downwards, to a large block of magically reinforced steel, set deep in the foundation and almost as wide.

That feels like a vault, Twilight thought. If anything survived the floods, it’ll be down there.

Mm, there’s an idea. Midnight draped a chilling hoof over Twilight’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. Do you think there’s any survivors?

Twilight’s heart fluttered at the idea. Could it be possible for ponies to have survived down here all this time, their whole world condensed to a miniscule steel stable? Perhaps if it had been built with such a purpose in mind, with farms and recycling equipment and a sustainable source of power, but why would anypony have thought to prepare for such a terrible calamity?

No, most likely the vault was made for short-term storage, or as a bunker to wait out shorter disasters, more on the timespan of weeks or months than centuries. Most likely she wouldn’t find anything there but more bodies, and whatever the bodies had brought with them.

But there was still that chance, wasn’t there?

Would they even see her as a pony? Would they even be aware of the horrifying nightmares swimming only a short teleport away? For all she knew, any survivors could have regressed into stunted tribal societies, scrabbling over the limited regenerating resources of their artificial home with no knowledge of the world beyond.

For all she knew, they could hail her as a goddess.

That’d be nice.

Twilight gave a slight shake of her head. She closed her eyes, forming the teleport spell in her mind, and vanished in a flash of magic.


Rainbow Dash woke with a start.

She was in her soft bed of clouds aboard the Argo, wrapped in its warm embrace. The image of Gava standing over her, framed in red, lingered in her mind for only a moment before she blinked it away, replacing it with the dimness of her bedroom. The scratchy scream in her ears gave way to the steady tick of the hull and the low drone of the propellers.

She was safe. There was no Gava hunting her aboard the Argo. She rolled over with an irritated grunt and fluffed the cloud up beneath her with a shuffle of her wings before squeezing her eye tightly shut.

Minutes passed. She didn’t fall asleep.

Rainbow fluttered out of the bed with a groan. Sleep had developed a habit of evading her lately, but she was never one to surrender easily. A few laps around the ship should wear her out, and then she’d try again.

She floated out of her room with a soft flap of her wings, angling herself into a lazy circle. The makeshift sleeping quarters that’d been assembled in the cargo hold didn’t have any tops, so she could see the dim outline of Applejack sleeping soundly under her sheets. Princess Luna’s dark form was harder to make out, but if she squinted Rainbow could spot the gentle motion of the peaceful alicorn’s breathing.

Rainbow glided down towards the door, prompting it to open with a short burst of steam. The cargo hold had been dimmed for the night, but the hall lights remained at full strength. She wasted only a few moments stretching her wings out before picking a direction and pumping her wings.

The wind tugged her mane back around her ears, drawing a grin from her and pushing the dark memories to the back of her mind. Here, there were no griffons hanging over her with bloody smirks, or green-coated soldiers falling in flashes of red as fire blazed all around her, or old friends battling the dark magic occupying their minds. There were only her wings, and the wind, and the mental stopwatch urging her forwards.

She passed by the cargo hold in a prismatic blur. Twenty-three seconds. Not an impressive time for a straightaway, but the curve and enclosed space limited her speed. Still, she could do better.

The ship’s layout was simple enough. An elongated oval-shaped hallway surrounded the submarine dock on the lower deck, with thin tin doors running along the outer side that led to the various quarters, workshops, and storage rooms. The door to the cargo hold was the aft end of the loop, and a small observation deck on the forward side doubled as a rec room.

The next lap only took her twenty-one seconds. She knew she could get her time down, but there were ponies sleeping soundly all around her. If she wanted to go faster, to lose herself in the burn of her muscles, she would have to go outside. Opening either of the hatches on the lower level might wake somepony, but there was a hatch on the upper level further away from any bedrooms.

She hovered up the stairs at a quick pace, eager to feel the crisp ocean air between her feathers, and noticed with a small frown that the door to Dusty Tome’s shipboard clinic was hanging open. Huh.

She flew closer, nose crinkling at the strange smell hanging in the air. It was heavy, with a metallic tint to it, and Rainbow’s pulse quickened as she recognized the scent of blood. Probably just someone hurt themselves and getting patched up, she assured herself. Nothing to freak out over.

“Hey, Dusty.” She kept her voice low as she reached the door; Sea Sabre’s room was just a few steps down the hall. “Hello?”

The prodding joke about eggheads and sleep schedules on Rainbow’s mind died in her throat as she turned the corner to see Dusty Tome sprawled out on his back next to the clinic’s bed, his eyes wide in unblinking terror. His old brown jacket was stained a deep red by the trail of blood dripping from the ragged gash in his neck, and she could see glimpses of his exposed guts glistening in the harsh light of the airship through the tears in his belly.

A flood of adrenaline rushed through Rainbow’s veins. She dropped lightly to the floor to keep her wings free, flaring them wide and suddenly missing the comforting weight of her wingblades, and scanned the room. Aside from the slowly growing puddle around Dusty’s body, most of the room was clean of blood, and surprisingly orderly for the site of a recent murder.

A murder.

The Argo wasn’t safe.

She backed out of the room until her tail hit the opposite side of the wall, head darting from side to side. The hall was just as empty as it had been before.

She needed to raise the alarm, but what if whatever had killed Dusty was still around? What if Gava was on the ship? She looked to the right, and the ticking of the hull turned into the clicking of a revolver's hammer being pulled back behind her. She spun around, taking to the air, only to see more empty hallway.

“Calm down, Dash,” she breathed, backing towards the control room with her eye fixed on the stairs. “What’ve you got to panic about, huh? You’re the most awesome thing on this ship. You should be happy if Gava’s around, yeah.” Rainbow stole a glance behind her. “You had her last time. She’s nothing.

A heart-wrenching thunk shook the hull, and Rainbow had to bite her lip to keep herself from crying out. With the sound of grinding metal, the ship fell silent.

No steady ticking. No propeller drone.

The lights dimmed to nothingness. Only the pale beams of moonlight shining through the portholes that lined the hall remained.

Gava’s grinning, bloodstained beak lingered in Rainbow’s mind.

The click of a door opening behind her struck Rainbow like a bolt of lightning, and she twisted around with a shout before pouncing for the winged shadow that had appeared before her. It ducked the blow, hooves catching Rainbow in the gut and throwing her to the ground.

“Stand down, Rainbow!” Sea Sabre hissed. “What’s going on?”

After a few seconds of stunned confusion, Rainbow’s mind finally caught up with the question. She pointed a hoof. “H-he’s dead.”

Sabre’s eyes shot wide open. She whirled, stepping up to the open door to the clinic. Moonlight played against her face as she peered inside, giving Rainbow a clear sight of the way her lip twisted back and her brow furrowed down into a hard vee. “Who?

“I don’t know.” Rainbow stood up, suddenly acutely aware of how loud her hooves were against the metal floor. “I just found him, and then—” she gestured with a hoof “—everything’s quiet.”

Sabre’s jaw clenched, her lips twitching as she took a deep breath. Another breath, and the shaking of her body drew still. She turned, wings half-flared, and fixed Rainbow with a gaze of such intensity that it was all she could do but stare back in open-mouthed shock.

“Wait here.”

Sabre breezed past her without waiting for an answer, disappearing into the shadow of her room. She emerged a few seconds later with one blade fastened on her right wing before dropping the other at Rainbow’s hooves.

“Put this on.”

Rainbow blinked, looking down at the perfectly polished steel catching the moonlight below her. Sabre never let another pony handle her equipment. Even Flintlock treated her gear with a quiet reverence. “Sabre—”

“Now.”

The mare’s voice was nearly as sharp as the blade. Rainbow bent down, strapping the weapon to her left wing in a rush.

Sabre leaned in, biting one of the straps around Rainbow’s wing and pulling hard until the blade fell snug against her feathers. She spat the strap out with a curt nod before trotting towards the control room without a word.

Rainbow followed with a grimace, glancing behind her as their hoofsteps echoed into the darkness lingering at the top of the stairs. The hull groaned around them, sending a shiver down her spine. When they reached the control room door, Sabre unfurled her left wing to reveal the crowbar she’d tucked underneath.

“Cover me.”

Rainbow nodded, but Sabre had already turned away and set the crowbar’s teeth into the metal door. A grunt of exertion escaped her as the door slowly began to give.

With a shrill screech that nearly made Rainbow’s heart stop, one side of the door slid open far enough for a pony to slide through. Sabre glanced back and beckoned with a wing before tucking the crowbar against her side again and squeezing through.

The wide window at the front of the control room provided an ample supply of pale starlight, painting the room in a dim midnight blue that was a welcome relief from the dark shadows of the hall outside. Rainbow stepped to the side once she entered, putting her back to the wall while Sabre trotted down to the control dias.

“Sabre, what’s going on?” Rainbow whispered. “What happened to the ship?”

“Relic engine’s down,” Sabre said as she stepped onto the dias. “Intruder must’ve stolen the power source.”

“What? Relic?” There was the sound of shifting metal, and Rainbow’s eyes snapped back to the half-open door. Nothing moved.

“The Argo runs off old Equestrian magic. No relic, no power.” Sabre tugged at a long lever with both hooves, and Rainbow’s ears twitched at the staccato clicking of the mechanism. “We can talk more once the ship’s clear.”

With a soft, barely audible buzz, a dull red light flickered on above the door. Rainbow jumped back as the door suddenly slammed shut. “Whoa!”

“Reserve steam will keep the doors working, for now,” Sabre said, trotting up from the lower level. “Where’s Applejack?”

Rainbow nodded. “She was sleeping in the cargo hold a few minutes ago.”

“Good. Let’s find the others.”

The hiss of the door opening felt far louder without the ship’s usual ambience, and it slid open with a series of halting, sluggish jerks that made Rainbow think of a wounded pony dragging herself to safety. A line of dim red lights was set into the top of the hall on the other side, spaced between the moonlit windows and painting the metal in an alternating pattern of dull red and pale blue.

“You lead. Bottom of the stairs,” Sabre said. “I’ll watch our six.”

“Right.” Rainbow stepped forward with a gulp, testing the weight of the blade on her left wing as she went. Distant hoofsteps echoed towards them from the far side of the hall, and for a moment Rainbow thought she could even hear them above and below her.

A shadow poked up at the end of the hall.

“W-who’s there?!” Rainbow called. She crouched low, straining to make out details in the low light. Were those wingtips raised up behind it? What could she do if it started shooting?

“Rainbow? Y’alright?” Rainbow let out a relieved sigh as Applejack’s voice reached her. “There was a thunk like Tartarus a bit ago, ’n all the lights went out. The hay’s goin’ on, gal?”

“Someone’s on the ship,” Rainbow explained as they met at the top of the stairs. She reached out and pulled Applejack into a tight hug, careful to keep her wingblade at a safe distance. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Whoa. Uh, alright then.” Applejack let out a soft chuckle as she rubbed a hoof between Rainbow’s wings. “What’s got y’all, RD? Somepony up ’n die?”

Rainbow stiffened, pulling back to look Applejack in the eyes. The cowpony’s nervous grin fell from her face, eyes widening.

More hoofsteps drifted from the shadows at the bottom of the steps. Rainbow put herself between Applejack and the approaching noise, relaxing as she caught sight of Star Trails and Flintlock. Trails came first, the faint blue glow of her magic wrapped around her javelin floating beside her. Flint was scanning the hall behind them with his eyes narrowed. HIs shotgun was strapped to his side, a string running from the trigger to a collar around his neck.

Sea Sabre cleared her throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Where’s Sunfeather?”

“She wasn’t in ’er room,” Flint said. “Didn’t see Dusty either.”

“What’s up with the power?” Trails asked. “I’ve never seen a relic engine just give out like this.”

“Dusty Tome is dead.” Sabre’s voice was steady, but the fire in her eyes hadn’t lost any of its edge. “An intruder sabotaged the engine.”

The silence rushed back into place as Sabre’s words hung in the air. Trails gaped up at her, her hind legs giving out and allowing her flank to plop against the floor, while Applejack took her hat off with a grimace and glanced into the darkness around her.

Flint let out a low growl. “Orders?”

Sabre nodded. “We’ll mourn later. For now, we need to locate Sunfeather and find the intruder before they accomplish their objectives. We keep to groups of two or more. Is the Princess safe?”

Applejack blinked as she realized the question was addressed to her. “I, uh, ain’t checked.”

“Flint, take Applejack and safeguard the Princess. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Aye, boss. C’mon then, Jackie.”

The cargo hold door groaned in complaint as the reserve steam dragged it half open, giving enough room for Flintlock to lead Applejack through. Sea Sabre placed a hoof on the door, holding it open as she turned to face Trails and Rainbow.

“Sunfeather probably went down to the engine herself to investigate the malfunction,” she said. “You two, find her and then meet us back here. She’s top priority, then retrieving the relic, and only then catching the intruder. Don’t run off alone.” She spoke the last words directly to Rainbow. “Star Trails is in charge. Don’t let me down, Rainbow Dash.” She glanced back to Trails. “Understood?”

Trails gave a curt nod. “Got it.”

“You can count on us,” Rainbow added.

“I know I can.”

Sabre turned away and disappeared into the shadows of the cargo hold, leaving the two mares alone with the weak steam of the closing door.

Trails shot a brief, sideways glance at Rainbow and beckoned with her head. “C’mon. Watch my back, okay?”

“Right.”

Rainbow couldn’t help but grimace as she followed the unicorn down the hall towards the observation room, keeping her eye trained on the shadows behind them. The image of Trails flinching beneath her, raising her hooves to protect her face, was still fresh in her mind, and now Rainbow was following her into the bowels of the ship searching for whoever had killed Dusty.

What had been a twenty-second flight took far longer at this pace, giving Rainbow ample time to imagine griffons hiding in every shadow and jump at every distant creak or burst of steam. Rainbow glanced ahead and caught Trails quickly looking away, her ears swiveling forwards.

It occurred to her that she should say something before they ended up in a life-or-death situation with only each other to count on.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

Rainbow sighed. Here goes. “I’m sorry. About, uh, y’know.” She offered up an awkward chuckle as Trails looked back, only to cut it off with a frustrated grunt. Not good enough! “I’m sorry about losing my cool with you.”

After a long moment, Trails nodded and turned her attention forwards once again. “It’s fine, Dash. I know it was a rough situation, and I don’t blame you for getting upset. Thanks for apologizing.” A few seconds passed. “I’m sorry for avoiding you these past couple days.”

“Heh, yeah.” Rainbow broke out into a relieved grin. “That was kinda awkward back in the cargo hold yesterday.”

Trails stopped so abruptly that Rainbow nearly bumped into her. She turned fully, a frown on her face. “Yesterday?”

“Yeah?” Rainbow arched a brow. “Y’know, when you came into the cargo hold and kinda froze up?” She smirked, laying a comforting hoof on Trails’ shoulder. “Hey, it’s no big deal, right? Things were still pretty weird, and I don’t blame you.”

Trails cocked her head. “Dash… I haven’t seen you since our fight.”

Rainbow blinked. “But AJ was there, too. She saw you!“

“Dash, whoever you spoke to? That wasn’t me.”

A cold chill ran down Rainbow’s back, sending a shiver through her body. She twisted around, wings fluttering her into a low hover, and peered into the dark hall behind her.

The silence was really starting to get to her.

Trails spoke up uncertainly.  “Hey, you okay?”

“Shush!” Rainbow snapped. “I’m thinking.”

The awkward, silent Star Trails she had spoken to a couple days ago wasn’t Star Trails. Applejack had been there, so she couldn’t have been hallucinating. Had it been a dream? Or maybe—

She whirled, pointing a hoof at the other mare. “Have I ever told you the story of how I did a Sonic Rainboom?”

Trails cocked her head. “Dash, you’ve told me that story like ten times already. This isn’t the time.”

“How many times?” Rainbow pressed. “How many times exactly have I told you the story?”

“Uh… “ Trails rubbed at her chin with a hoof. “Three? Am I missing something?”

Rainbow nodded, letting her hooves fall to the floor once more. She beckoned Trails close and leaned into her ear to whisper, “I think a changeling killed Dusty.”

Trails stiffened. “What?”

“Think about it! I spoke to a Star Trails, and it wasn’t you.” Rainbow bit her lip as she thought back to the past few days. “And Flint’s cider! There were two kegs empty, but nopony on the crew would have drank any. His helmet was missing and—” she paused, her mouth going dry “—like it just walked off.”

“But how would a changeling do all that? Why?” Trails shook her head. “And that still doesn’t explain what you saw. It’s not like a changeling can just transform into another pony at will.”

Rainbow shot her a look. Trails narrowed her eyes.

“Wait. Can changelings transform into another pony at will?”

“Of course they can!” Rainbow hissed. “Why do you think they’re called changelings?!”

“I don’t know! I’m not a historian!” Trails shot back. “I thought they were just mutated Canterlot ponies, like seaponies, but without water!”

“We need to get back,” Rainbow said, turning around. “Sabre needs to know.”

“They’ll be fine, Dash. There’s three of them.” Trails stepped in front of her. “But Sunfeather’s probably on her own down in the engine, and she isn’t a fighter. If that changeling catches her looking like one of us… “

“Right. Let’s move, fast!”

They broke out into a trot, closing the distance to the front of the ship at a quick pace. The red emergency light above the rec room door came into sight, beckoning them forwards.

Trails came to a stop in front of it, but instead of approaching the door and prompting it open, she turned to face the opposite direction. A small trapdoor was set low into the wall at an angle, reminding Rainbow of the entrance to Applejack’s old cellar. The door hung open, swallowing up the dim red light like a hungry monster waiting for prey to wander inside.

“We’re going down there?” Rainbow asked.

“There’s a few maintenance tunnels around the ship,” Trails said. She floated her javelin down first, illuminating the surface of a mesh catwalk within. “This one leads to the engine. If anyone wanted to break or fix it, this is where they’d go. C’mon!”

Rainbow grimaced as she watched Trails squeeze herself through the little hole and step out of sight. Taking a deep breath, she poked her head inside and looked around.

The maintenance tunnel was even tighter than she had first thought. The walkway ran between two walls made of interlocking brass piping, and unlike the rest of the ship there were no red emergency lights to fend off the darkness. Only the soft glow of Trails’ magic lit the way, and even that was mostly blocked by the unicorn’s body. Rainbow wasn’t even sure if she could get one wing half-flared in the little space. How easy would it be for a changeling to jump out of some unseen crevice and rip her throat out while she struggled to even bring her weapon to bear?

She shook herself, dislodging the bloody image. “C’mon, Rainbow,” she muttered. “You’re not afraid of a little tunnel, are you? Gonna take more than two walls to stop the most awesome pony in Equestria. Yeah.”

She eased herself through the trapdoor as she spoke, trying not to cringe at the way her feathers brushed against both walls as she followed after Trails. The mesh of the catwalk trembled underhoof, and looking down past it Rainbow caught brief glimpses of clockwork gears catching the light from Trails’ horn.

She didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until they reached the end of the tunnel, coming out into a small but busy room filled with still gears and brass tubing. A single red emergency light was set into the floor, throwing shadows upwards against the two boilers running along the top of the room.

A platform inscribed with arcane runes was set against the far wall, surrounded by strange instruments and symbols made from a grainy white material that Rainbow couldn’t recognize. The space above it was conspicuously empty.

“Well, that confirms that,” Trails said. “Relic’s gone, but hopefully not far. Now we just need to find Sunfeather.”

The sound of approaching hooves echoed out of another narrow maintenance tunnel, this one in one of the far corners, and both mares pointed their weapons towards it. A second later another set of hooves became audible from a different maintenance tunnel, opposite the corner the first one was in. Rainbow and Trails exchanged a brief glance, and Rainbow adjusted to face the other direction.

“There’s an intruder on the ship,” Sunfeather said as she stepped out of the first tunnel. She had a toolbag perched on her back, and her silver mane and gray coat were both smudged with the stains of recent work.

Trails breathed a sigh of relief. “We know. He got Dusty.”

“There’s an intruder on the ship,” Sunfeather said as she stepped out of the second tunnel. This one’s toolbag was a different color, and the stains in her coat and mane had a different pattern to them.

“Oh, fuck,” Trails muttered, pointing her javelin at the second Sunfeather as it looked to the other with mild interest. “What the fuck.”

“Quick, ask them something only the real Sunfeather would know!” Rainbow hissed. She stood sideways to both of them, holding her one wingblade out in front of her.

“We’re not that close!” Trails hissed back. “We barely talk!”

“I’ll save you the trouble,” the first Sunfeather droned, her voice carrying all the energy of a mare reviewing her taxes. “I came down to investigate the power outage, and I saw that thing—” she pointed at the other Sunfeather “—messing with the relic. I chased it into the maintenance tunnels, but I lost track of it.”

The second Sunfeather blinked. “I’ll save you the trouble,” she began, voice filled with the excitement of a mare who had just finished sorting her laundry. “I came down—”

Trails’ javelin lashed out at the second one. It let out a shrill screech as green flames burst from its body, and the revealed changeling ducked under the strike before leveling its glowing horn on its attacker.

Trails threw herself to the side just as a beam of glimmering green energy shot forth, striking the pipe behind her with a loud crack. Hot steam burst out of the pipe, the hiss joined by a strained curse from Star Trails, and Rainbow raised a wing to protect her face from the heat as she flinched back.

By the time the steam dissipated enough for her to lower her wing, the changeling was gone. Sunfeather was bent over Trails, who lay on the floor nursing an apparent wound on her flank.

“Fuck, that’s hot!” Trails spat through clenched teeth.

“It ran off!” Sunfeather shouted, looking to the tunnel that led back to the rest of the ship. “It still has the relic!”

Rainbow went to give chase, but she hesitated. Sabre’s words were still clear in her mind. “Don’t run off alone. Star Trails is in charge. Don’t let me down, Rainbow Dash.” She looked to Trails, the question clear in her mind.

“Just go!” Trails waved her off with a hoof. “If it gets away, we’re dead in the air!”

With a nod, Rainbow galloped into the tunnel. She caught just a brief glimpse of the changeling jumping out the trapdoor at the end and wasted no time in pouring on the speed, her hooves pounding against the wire mesh beneath her.

She shot out into the hall with a challenging shout, but nothing rose up to meet her. The sound of the changeling’s hooves seemed to come from both directions at once, growing fainter, and with a frustrated growl Rainbow picked one at random and spread her wings.

The hall blurred past, the alternating red and blue flashing in her eyes a dozen times in ten seconds before she drew up short in front of the cargo hold door. The changeling turned the opposite corner at the same time, and as it skidded to a stop Rainbow got her first good look at it.

She’d seen plenty of changelings in her life, both during the siege of Canterlot a thousand years ago and in the pockmarked streets of its ruins a millenia later. They always appeared misshapen, either with limbs too long and spindly for their barrels or chests bulging with unnatural muscle, their chitin often cracked and warped from the vain effort of trying to contain their bodies. But this one appeared almost normal. If not for the bloody claws sticking out of its hooves like nails that had pounded into its skin, the curling fangs jutting out past its muzzle in every direction, or the heavy edge of chitin running along its tattered gossamer wings, it could’ve easily been one of the cackling creatures that had invaded Canterlot so long ago.

It was the appearance that made her hesitate. She raised a hoof, putting as much force into her voice as she could. “Stop!”

It hissed at her, seizing the opportunity to fire a bolt of blazing green fire in her direction. She yelped as she ducked the shot, catching a brief glimpse of the monster bounding up the steps to the upper level hallway.

“Oh no you don’t!” She gave chase with a flap of her wings, cresting the stairs just in time to see the changeling dart through the still-open door of the clinic.

Rainbow darted into the clinic without hesitation, her bladed wing raised high and a warcry on her lips. The changeling was nowhere to be seen.

She scanned the room, breathing hard. Dusty’s body was still splayed out in the same place, and aside from a few loose tools rolling around the room was empty. She frowned as she noticed the toolbag the changeling had been carrying resting on the counter. She took a step forwards.

Green fire flickered behind her, followed by her own voice. “Oh, no you don’t!”

Rainbow whipped around, bringing her bladed wing up just barely in time to catch her doppelganger’s own wing coming down. She blinked, eye widening as her blade got caught in the outer feathers instead of slicing through with ease, doing little more than drawing a few beads of green ichor.

For a fraction of an instant, Rainbow stared into a reflection of her own face, the space where her eyepatch should be replaced with a smooth expanse of unbroken cyan fur. The changeling’s one fiery cerise eye glared down at her, held back only by the clashing wings and loose strands of prismatic mane.

Rainbow’s lips curled back in a furious snarl. She shoved the changeling back, throwing it against the window above Dusty’s body. “Stop copying me!”

“Stop copying me!” the changeling shot back. Green fire raced over its form as it jumped upwards, crashing through a closed grate in the ceiling.

“And stop running!” Rainbow shouted, crouching down to give chase. She paused, glancing behind her to the toolbag the changeling had left behind. A faint white glow drifted up from its innards, casting strange, twisting symbols against the wall behind it.

She knew she shouldn’t give chase. She’d saved the relic, and the smart thing would be to bring it back to the rest of the crew, share what she’d found out, and then make a plan to take it out together.

But that thing had had the audacity to mock her with her own face. She already knew where it was. And she was the most awesome pony in Equestria. She’d taken out plenty of changelings before, and Dusty’s body was right there, staring at her as if begging for someone to avenge him.

She flapped her wings, tucking them against her sides and shooting through the remains of the grate.

She came out into near total darkness, the dim red light spilling up from the clinic outlining the shape of a ladder before her. The motion of the air around her feathers told her that she was still inside, but this space was bigger than any other she’d seen on the Argo. She followed the ladder up, turning slow circles and squinting into the darkness, until it ended at a mesh catwalk.

“Ugh, another one of these?” Rainbow settled gingerly onto the catwalk, her bladed wing held out in front of her as she crept further away from the dull red beam, ears straining to make out any noise between every step. “C’mon out, little changeling.”

Her own voice echoed back to her from the dark. “C’mon out, little changeling.”

Okay, that’s creepy. Rainbow’s ears twitched at the sound of rustling fabric to her side.

Sickly green light flared up in front of her. She squinted into the brightness, catching a brief glimpse of the changeling on the catwalk in front of her and round, bulbous shapes that seemed to float on either side like dark clouds, and then she threw herself into the air as a bolt of green fire raced towards her, splashing against the metal where she had just been standing with a crackling hiss.

The afterimage of the room was still burned in her vision when the changeling pounced. Rainbow lashed out towards the sound with her wing. Rushing wind tugged at her mane as the changeling hissed into her ear, and she turned the strike into a spinning slash at the air below her before twisting around to land on her hooves.

The changeling had landed behind her, the red beam of light from the clinic grate outlining it in a hazy silhouette that seemed to bleed into the surrounding emptiness when it moved. She gave ground as its heavy wings beat against her defense, praying to Celestia that the catwalk wouldn’t suddenly end behind her.

She ducked a swipe from one of the changeling’s wings, wincing at the sound of tearing canvas behind her. Starlight streamed into the room, picking out the changeling’s form in detail, and Rainbow seized the opportunity to shoot back up with a fearsome shout, striking the changeling’s chest with both forelegs and sending it falling off the catwalk with a pained shriek.

Rainbow barely had time to catch her breath before blasts of green fire began spewing up from the darkness under the catwalk. She yelped as she took to the air, dodging each attack with quick flutters of her wings. Twinkling beams of moonlight crisscrossed the wide room as each bolt blew a new hole in the walls, picking out the metal skeleton that lined the edges and the floating canvas balloons lining the catwalk in neat rows.

Rainbow stole a glance at the changeling as she ducked behind one balloon, spotting it perched on a metal beam that ran along the bottom of the long, cylindrical room. Her eyes widened as the next blast popped the balloon she’d hid behind, throwing her back in a wild spin.

Rainbow cried out as she tore through the canvas wall, falling into the open air outside the Argo and arresting her spin just in time to avoid gutting herself on the sharp metal blades of one of its massive propellers. She shook herself, regaining her bearings, and looked back to the hole she’d left in the Argo’s balloon envelope.

The envelope was in tatters, with loose flaps of canvas fluttering in the ocean wind and moonlight reflecting off the exposed surface of the metal skeleton inside. Rainbow didn’t know much about airship engineering, but she knew that the balloon was what kept it up, and she had to put a stop to the fight before the changeling caused so much damage that the ship could no longer maintain altitude. She set her jaw as she flew out in a wide arc, aiming to pierce the canvas near the bottom of the balloon where she remembered the changeling to be.

The tearing of the canvas screamed in her ears as she punched through to the inside, bringing a new beam of starlight that picked out the changeling crouched low on the balloon’s skeleton, its eyes still fixed on where it had last seen her. It turned with an odd, strangled shriek that Rainbow could only think of as shocked, bringing a grin to her face.

“Gotcha.”

She slammed into it with both hooves, bearing it to the ground and dragging the back of its armored shell across the metal with her momentum. It hissed its defiance at her, disappearing in a flash of cold green fire and glaring up at her with her own face contorted in fury.

She snarled as she raised a hoof, stomping hard against one wing and wrenching it backwards with a wet snap that sent its scream up an octave. With her blade she stabbed through the chitin at the base of its other wing, wrenching the tip in the wound and shooting a spurt of green blood against her bared teeth.

Spittle flew into Rainbow’s face as the changeling screamed up at her, the sharp claws on its hooves digging into her belly. She screamed back in fury as much as pain, rolling to the side and off the edge of the thin metal girder they were fighting on.

Both of them tumbled through the envelope and back into open air. Rainbow kicked it loose, hissing as the claws tore more flesh loose on the way out, and caught herself on her wings.

The changeling’s wings, however, were mangled beyond use. It shrieked up at her as she watched it plummet into the night, its ragged voice growing steadily fainter, until finally she couldn’t pick its dark chitin out from the ocean any longer. She thought she might have heard a splash, but she couldn’t be sure it wasn’t just the ocean swells.

With a groan, Rainbow pushed her hooves up against the twin gashes in her belly, wincing with every breath. The warm ocean air tickled at her tongue, its salt mixing in with the bitter tang of the changeling’s thick blood.

She fluttered back towards the envelope with gritted teeth, straining against the sudden ache in her wings. She blinked, and suddenly she was back on the catwalk. Where am I?

Right, changeling. She limped towards the warm red light that highlighted the ladder back to Dusty Tome’s clinic. He can fix me up. I’ll be fine.

She blinked again, gasping as she fell through the open grate and back into the clinic. She bounced off the bed with a grunt, rolling to a stop on the floor. She’d landed in something wet and oddly warm. With a moan she looked to the side and saw Dusty’s body gaping at her as if in shock.

She choked out a bitter laugh. Right. He’s dead. Ponyfeathers.

Rainbow pulled her dry lips apart, pushing the words out as hard as she could. “AJ! I’m up here!” She paused to suck in a breath, dragging herself towards the open door to the hall. “Trails! Sabre!”

She didn’t remember the door being so far away last time. Her head fell against the floor with an irritated grunt. That better not be my blood.

Darkness began to drip in along the corners of her sight. She really hated that. She rolled onto her back with her lips twisted into a determined grimace. I’m not gonna die. It takes more than one changeling to kill Rainbow Dash!

Was that the sound of hooves approaching? The buzzing in her ears was too loud for her to be sure.

As the black tendrils crept over her vision, Rainbow imagined she was resting on a soft bed of clouds.