Chapter 57
Illusion
Canterlot was not the city it once was. The once populous streets were now bereft of life. The homes and businesses were all barren and empty.
In the very back of the city, Canterlot Palace sparkled from within. As if every star in the sky had been placed within the palace walls, the entire castle glowed brilliantly, sending off a cascade of starlit sparks that trailed down the mountainside like a river. At that moment, a new cluster of starlight arrived.
It flew hurriedly toward the front gate, which opened automatically for it and shut with a bang. When it approached them, the doors to the castle opened widely to allow it entry. And when the light passed, they closed themselves.
Deep in the darkened throne room, the many clusters of starlight swirled about, filling the room with their gentle glow. And in moments, the lights dimmed as a dark hand reached out for them.
Yen Sid allowed the starlit magic to swirl around his hand and trickle through his fingers like water. He could touch it now. Feel it coursing through his body. His goal was nearly complete. Soon, he would enter yet another world and remake it in his harmonious vision. And he would feed off the magic it would create in turn for all it was worth.
The moment when he was finally made whole in that world could not come soon enough. He would take it over, and he would move on to the next one. Which to choose, he could not decide. The possibilities were limitless. And in time, they would all be his.
A malevolent grin inched onto his featureless face. There was a way to enter the world more quickly. And he knew who was going to help him.
Yen Sid raised his arms.
The clusters of starlight swirled about, obeying his command.
With a wave and a flourish, Yen Sid formed the magic over his head to consolidate to a single mass. And with an upward thrust of his arm, a geyser of starlight shot upward.
Light erupted from the top of Canterlot Palace, and a steady stream of the stolen magic rapidly drifted northward to find its intended recipient.
In a tiny clearing in the forest, a pile of snow and broken brush sat.
The mound had grown some, for the blizzard that had been blowing through. But, not enough to hide it from those who were looking.
A fat, peg-legged silhouette stomped through the treeline, snow shovel in hand.
Pete puffed on his cigar and knelt down to observe the mound of snow. The only real difference about it was the amount of broken branches and loose nettles within it, along with the sheer size of it.
It was definitely a chunk of the avalanche he had tossed Mickey and Rarity away with. Finding the way they went from there would be difficult. But, aid would soon be on its way.
The sky above lit up with streaks of light, creating a silvery parody of the northern lights that Pete knew from back home.
Somebody else was looking for the mouse. And Pete knew now where to find him.
“Dis job’s just got easy,” the heavy said to himself, as he followed the direction the lights were heading.
The fire in Nagruk-pak’s house crackled gently, hardly dwindling at all for the many hours it must have been burning.
High above it, the vent in the ceiling swirled with glittering magical specks. The smoke at the top of the room funneled toward it, and out into the open. Beyond the vent, the flakes of snow and bitter wind were abated by only the swirling of magic.
All else was still and quiet in the house. As still as the mouse who was sleeping on the thick rugs that surrounded the fire pit.
Nearly from the moment he arrived, Mickey had been sleeping as soundly as a log, relishing the warmth of the fire that spread through his diminutive form. For longer than he could recount, he had been battling against the evil forces of a land that wasn’t his own. He was a long way from his friends. From his home. And most of all from Minnie. Now, for reasons he couldn’t fathom, Twilight had gone as well. Wherever she was, he hoped that she would soon find her way back to them. And he would take those cares and worries with him into his dream world.
Nearby, Rarity was busy at work trying to conceptualize a design for the clothes that had been provided for herself and Mickey.
With no art board or pencil to work with, she had no way of visualizing her designs. It wasn’t the first time that the fashionista had worked without being able to put her ideas on paper. She had done it many times before, and had always come up with something. Though not always particularly dazzling, her end product was always impressive.
This time, Rarity found herself at something of a loss.
The style of the parkas of the northern lands were far different than what she was familiar with. And though she could see an image in her mind of what she intended to make, she found herself doubting the end result. It always came out similar to something that she had made before. And with what she had at her disposal, she couldn’t create such a masterpiece.
Rarity sighed and slumped over the table. Perhaps she was simply looking at it from a wrong angle. After all, the table she was at was made for a moose, and she had to stand on her back legs just to be able to reach over the top.
Taking the nearby chair at the table, Rarity climbed atop the seat and stood on it to see what perhaps may have been different.
From her new vantage point, the fashionista could see her workspace in full. To be sure, there was nothing egregiously wrong with anything she had done so far. Every cut to that point was perfect and precise. Every stitch was placed according to plan. But, something still seemed off about it.
For a moment, Rarity lamented not having any of her usual materials and accessories to work with. She knew that if she had any of that, she would have been able to finish up the project she was working on ages ago. As it was, she would simply have to settle for what she had: furs, reeds, feathers, stems, sinews, and many other assorted sundry items.
Rarity flashed back to her trip to Avalon, where she had seen a llama making gorgeous jewelry from items that were just as plain and unattractive. Somehow, the llama had taken what was easily overlooked and turned it into something Rarity herself couldn’t look away from.
“How did she do it?” Rarity quietly wondered to herself.
She tried to recall the designs that were made with black onyx, brass, copper, polished wood, and even carved nuts.
In her mind, Rarity formed all sorts of creations with the items the jeweler had created. Instead of coming up with the beautiful accessories that she had seen, Rarity could only come up with some silly assortment of things that she would have only made as a joke. At one point, she imagined Nagruk-pak’s squirrel friend scampering over and eating anything made from the tagua nuts.
Rarity chuckled to herself over the image, but quickly cleared it from her mind. She was in a rut. And having understood her own creative process for so many years, she knew she was nowhere close to overcoming it.
What had started as a project Rarity was ready and willing to see through from beginning to end was now at a stall. And with a quiet sigh, she conceded that she would have to complete it at some later point.
The sound of the blizzard outside made her hope that she would be able to see past it before they eventually had to leave the house.
A single particle of starlit magic drifted from above and landed next to Rarity’s hoof, where it bounced softly.
“Hm?” she said, glancing up to find where it had fallen from.
As if the snow outside had changed from one form to another, a gentle cloud of silvery, shimmering starlight drifted in through the vent in the ceiling, mingling with the magic that kept the blizzard at bay.
It filled the room, lingering in the air like stars in the sky. Among them, Rarity thought she could make out familiar shapes. There was a gown that she would have seen worn at a grand ball. Then there was a diamond the size of her hoof.
Despite the wondrous scene, Rarity felt a lingering sense of apprehension. Somehow, the presence of the magic reminded her of the moment that her own had been stolen from her. With that much of the sparkling magic present, who knew what it may take from her next.
A soft sound made her ears twitch. From somewhere nearby, there was something thumping with a steady, constant rhythm. One that Rarity could feel steadily synchronize with her heartbeat.
Looking to the source, she found it to be the very same sparkle of magic that had first drifted next to her hoof when she was working. It was still bouncing up and down in a consistent and familiar way that made her feel less afraid.
Reaching out, Rarity placed her hoof over the bouncing spark of magic and watched it move between her outstretched appendage and the surface of the table. And in a moment, she started moving her hoof as if she were the one making it to bounce.
Her apprehension was replaced with a simple sense of joy. She recalled how she had seen a certain street performer do the very same thing, and thought about how much skill and coordination it took to do even something so simple. Now that she was doing it, even if she actually wasn’t, she felt like she could have done anything.
Rarity moved her hoof beneath the bouncing magic, where it suddenly stopped bouncing. She observed its shape, thinking that if it only had a little more mass that it would be a replica of one of the juggling balls her performer had used so dexterously.
The magic in the room began to take more defined shapes to awe and regale. But, they were all unnoticed by the room’s only wakeful occupant.
Rarity was much too preoccupied with her small sparkle of magic, remembering how she had seen a juggling ball held in a hoof, then how it was rolled from one side to the other. Perhaps if she tried it herself…
With a simple tilt of her hoof, the sparkle of magic slid right off and bounced from the tabletop to the floor.
It was too much to think that she would get it on her first try. Still, the idea of acquiring such a skill made a certain part of Rarity’s mind tingle with delight. The same part of her that was drawn to a stallion who was so unlike herself, but at once so very similar.
The sudden feeling of a hoof brushing through her mane sent shivers down Rarity’s spine. And with no thoughts at all, she turned to see who had done it.
Nopony was there. Just the same as it had been after the destruction of Avalon, it was only her imagination. But, there was one other sound she was not imagining.
The sound of bouncing once again made Rarity’s ears twitch. And this time when she looked to the source, she saw that the room had been filled with many wondrous shapes, all made from the drifting magic that had filled the room.
Elegant gowns with no wearers, yet danced about like they were at a grand ball. Sparkling jewels that looked more radiant than anything Rarity had ever seen floated through the air. Musical notes from some unknown melody drifted across the room, filling the air with a silent song she could only hear in her mind as she read them.
And from somewhere in the room, something was bouncing toward her.
Rarity looked down and saw a single speck of the starlight magic bouncing back toward her direction. Whether it was the one she had dropped, or a completely different one, she didn’t know. All she could tell was that somepony had tossed it to her. Somepony who was skilled enough to make it bound toward her without disturbing anything else in the room, and keep perfect rhythm and harmony with the rest of the melody that was drifting about the room.
Her heart quickened. Her eyes sparkled.
Somepony was calling to her. And she knew who.
Climbing down from the chair, the fashionista gazed deeply into the crowd of dancers and drifting magic.
The musical notes passed by her again, filling her mind with the melody they conveyed. And by the time they were gone, she could hear the rhythmic bouncing more clearly than ever, as if it were right in front of her.
Looking to the speck of magic in her hoof, a thought entered her mind. She tossed the speck toward the sounds, bouncing it off of the floor as she did.
And the speck bounced back to her.
With an astonished gasp, Rarity caught the starlit magic and looked to where it had come from.
There before her, many of the specks of magic were twirling through the air and bouncing to the floor, as if caught and thrown by an invisible juggler.
It was too incredible to believe. Slowly, a tiny smile inched onto her face. And her breath faltered as she dared to speak the name of the unseen performer.
“N...Nopony…?” she softly asked.
As if some magic word had been spoken, a mass of the sparkling magic jumped into the air, swirled about and landed directly in front of Rarity.
Though it was only a nebulous cluster of sparkling starlight, Rarity thought she could see many acrobatic twists and turns in the movement. And staring into the cluster of magic, she thought she could see something more.
If those specks of magic moved there. And another stream moved to another spot, Rarity thought she could make out the simple, plain, earnest face of a stallion who was staring back at her.
He was just how Rarity had remembered. He wasn’t tall, or handsome. And he certainly conveyed no wisdom from his looks alone.
Reaching out, Rarity carefully placed her hoof into the amorphous cloud of magic and slowly drifted it around.
It was like being able to touch him all over again. Even though she knew he wasn’t actually there, she could feel the soft fabric of his jacket. And all the ridges of his collar. Finally, her hoof was taking in the warmth of his face.
The last time she had ever felt such a thing was when she and Nopony had to release the founders of Avalon and end its glorious dream. And the inhabitants along with it.
“It can’t be you...Can it?” Rarity asked, partly to herself.
As if to answer, a speck of starlit magic set on her hoof, rolled down her arm and toward her chest.
In that moment, Rarity felt something that wasn’t there touch her chest, and watched in amazement as the speck of magic rolled off of her body and up toward the mass of magic, as if an invisible arm were there.
She dared to believe it. That there truly was somepony there. She wanted to hold him. She wanted to throw herself into his hooves. More than anything, she wished she could lie with him by the fire and fall asleep against him.
As it was, her wishes would go unfulfilled. No matter how she wanted it to be, Rarity knew she could never have him again. Not until she closed her eyes and dreamt of him.
As if the haze of mixed feelings had clouded her image, the magic before Rarity slowly dispersed and drifted back into the mass. And with it, the dancing clothes, the floating jewelry and the musical notes.
It had all been a fantasy. Nothing more. But, it didn’t matter to Rarity. She didn’t need to see the gowns and jewels to know what they looked like. Nor did she need to see Nopony to know every detail of his form. Any idea or notion of him was the best she could ever have thought up. Just as Nopony had told her before he disappeared from her life: she didn’t need pretty diamonds or the most radiant fabrics to make something glamorous and special. Just as it had been with the lonely street performer who had caught her eye, it was the very heart of a thing that needed to be brought forth the most.
As if many specks of the drifting magic illuminated her mind, Rarity suddenly knew what she had to do.
Climbing back atop the chair at the table, the fashionista returned to modifying the enormous parkas that had been left for her and Mickey. Taking the tools in her hooves, she worked with twice the vigor as before, having a clear picture of exactly what she wanted to make.
Behind her, another shape was forming among the sparkling magic. One unlike the others. Tall, stern and cold. And it was forming directly above Mickey’s sleeping form.
As if he had simply blinked and changed the world, Mickey found himself standing in a cold, dark room.
“Hello? Anyone there?” Mickey called, as he cautiously stepped forth through the room.
No answer came. And that was all the more unsettling than if Pete himself would have replied. More unsettling still was that even though Mickey didn’t know where he was, he felt as if he had been there a thousand times before.
A table that he encountered, he had expected it to be exactly there. Looking at the spines of the books on the shelves, he knew their titles before he finished reading them. One more step and he kicked over a bucket that he knew to be full of water. The bucket itself was empty. But the image of water spilling all over the floor stuck firmly in the mouse’s mind. And with that, he imagined more water to fill the room. And more, until he was riding the torrential tides and fighting the whirling vortexes.
“No way! This can’t really be the place!” Mickey thought.
After a brief look around, he saw the one thing that confirmed his suspicions. A single, perfectly non-descript broom was leaned against a corner, silent and unused. The very item that had caused him so much trouble when he was only an apprentice learning the ways of magic. It was definitely the place where he had trained and fostered as a sorcerer’s apprentice. He was standing smack dab in the middle of Yen Sid’s workshop.
“Hot dog!” Mickey cheered.
For the first time in a long while, he felt there was hope. If anyone could help to find Twilight, defeat Pete and his cronies, and restore magic to the land, it was Yen Sid.
He ran through the workshop, knowing the way he was going by heart. Every stone beneath his feet was etched into his memory. Every motion he made was done as if automated.
When he left the room, the torchlight behind him cast his shadow against the facing wall, engorging it to an enormous size, which shrank as the mouse ran toward the stairs nearby.
Up those steps, the answer to all of his problems was to be found. In moments, all would be well.
Just under the sound of his own hurried steps, Mickey heard another step. He paused, and another step sounded.
It was coming from the stairs.
As excited as he was, the mouse was at once anxious to see his former master, who he had not seen in many, many years. Even if he recognized Mickey, would he even help? And there was still the lingering doubt of what Pete had been telling him since he had arrived in Equestria. How Yen Sid was the mastermind behind the woes of the world, and how it was he who orchestrated all of its misfortunes.
Steeling his resolve, Mickey kept his faith firm. There was no way Yen Sid, for any reason, would do such a thing.
A silvery light shone from the top of the steps. And with it came specks of glimmering magic.
This was it.
A shadow appeared in the midst of the light, which seemed to stretch longer and longer until it engulfed Mickey in its darkness.
Finally, a figure was seen descending the staircase. Tall. Slender. Wizened. And a stern scowl that Mickey knew all too well.
Mickey’s words failed him. He could find nothing to say to greet his former master.
“Well? Speak. Or have you nothing to say to your instructor?” Yen Sid said.
That had done it. Any doubt Mickey had left upon hearing his mentor’s voice. And before he knew what he was doing, he rushed forward and threw his arms around Yen Sid’s knees.
“Aw, gosh am I glad to see ya!” said the mouse.
“Yes. Yes,” Yen Sid dismissively said, as he gently removed himself from Mickey’s grasp and walked past him.
Mickey knew he should have expected such a thing. Yen Sid never was one to connect with another. After the less-than-warm greeting, he followed after.
“Yen Sid, ya gotta listen to me. Me an’ my friends are in real big trouble,” he said.
“I know,” Yen Sid answered.
“Uh…’Course ya do,” Mickey nervously chuckled. “But, just hear me out. I got a friend missin’! An’ there’s a whole world out there that’s under attack!”
“I know,” Yen Sid repeated, as he nonchalantly opened a cabinet and collected the empty beakers and flasks from within.
Mickey stammered for a moment. Yen Sid always had his ways of knowing. And he never showed much emotion to anything beyond his own work. A twinge of doubt entered his mind. But, he knew in his heart that the old wizard would help.
Yen Sid placed the many containers onto the table and arranged them in no particular order.
A stool slid up beside him, and Mickey climbed atop it to better speak with his mentor.
“Please, Yen Sid. I know I haven’t exactly seen ya as much as I should. But, I need your help! Everyone--Everypony does!” the mouse pleaded.
“Fret not. I’m already working my magic toward the solution,” Yen Sid answered.
Mickey almost smiled. It was exactly what Yen Sid would have done since the magic mirror called himself, Donald and Goofy to Equestria. Catch wind of an imposter, then he would have been working on a solution to the problem.
He watched Yen Sid pinch the air and gently pull as if he were unraveling a thread.
A thin strand of silvery magic drifted through the air, following his fingers to the opening of the first beaker, where it filled itself halfway up.
A different meaning to Yen Sid’s words occurred to Mickey. Exactly how was Yen Sid ‘working his magic?’
“So...ya already got a plan to save Equestria?” the mouse asked.
“Save it. Yes,” Yen Sid replied, as he swirled his opposite palm round and round, as though he were rolling an unseen ball there. “Save it. Improve it. Make it last forever.”
In his empty palm a different kind of magic appeared. One that was solid in form, amorphous in shape, slightly translucent, and pink in color. This magic, Yen Sid placed in another empty beaker.
“I guess it’s great yer on top o’ things,” Mickey said, anxiously looking at the beaker of foreign magic. “Er...Is that…”
“Equestrian magic,” Yen Sid finished.
Mickey stayed silent as his former master’s brow furrowed, knowing that if he disturbed Yen Sid in his moment of focus, he would likely be thrown out.
With a wave of his arms, the two magics rose from their beakers and arced into the empty third.
A wisp of what looked like smoke drifted upward as the two magics swirled together inside of the third beaker.
The more Mickey watched, the more he could see the wisp of smoke rising higher. And under Yen Sid’s guidance, it started to take a more defined shape.
At first, it looked like some kind of animal. A dog or a cat, Mickey thought. Then, it started changing to something else. A pony. But, not just any pony. One with a horn that protruded from its forehead. And Mickey marveled further when he saw it sprout wings from its sides.
On its face, two lights blinked open and stared at Mickey. And though it had no words, the mouse got the distinct impression it was begging him for help. Calling out to him, just the same as he and his friends were called to Equestria.
“Mm-hmmm...Yes...This is perfect,” Yen Sid muttered.
Mickey glanced down to the beaker, and saw that something had changed. The two magics were becoming one. Whatever was left of the pink Equestrian magic was now reduced to nothing but a silvery mass that was barely distinguishable from the glittering, starlit magic. What was once a curious and intriguing shape had become a blobbish offshoot of what had overwhelmed it.
A thin smile crossed Yen Sid’s face, and the magic within the beaker billowed upward, engulfing the image of the alicorn.
The lights of the image’s eyes brightly illuminated, then faded altogether. And then it was gone.
Yen Sid waved his arms in a coordinated, mathematical fashion, changing the very shape of the image to anything that suited his whimsy. All the while with his thin, satisfied smile.
Mickey could bear no more, and jumped onto the table.
“Enough!” he snapped, kicking the beaker of magic into a wall, where it shattered.
He locked eyes with Yen Sid, trying his best to deny what he had seen.
“Something troubles you?” Yen Sid asked, as if he honestly didn’t know why Mickey reacted the way he had.
“Why are ya doin’ this?” Mickey choked, barely able to come to grips.
“You mean my life’s work?” Yen Sid answered shortly.
“I mean makin’ the world a worse place! Stealin’ everyone’s magic! Ruinin’ their lives! People out there are dyin’ because o’ what yer doin’!!”
Instead of remorse, Yen Sid stared at Mickey the very same way he always had when they were master and apprentice. The way that made Mickey feel as if he had broken some rule, and would make Yen Sid drop him as a student. Even then when he was a master of magic, Mickey still felt that way somewhere deep within himself.
“Mickey,” Yen Sid slowly began, “Do you remember my other students?”
“Huh?”
“My other students. Your predecessors. What do you remember about them?”
It was a strange question to be asked. But, Mickey thought on it as best he could. Until the answer came to him.
“Not much,” he said.
“Precisely,” Yen Sid answered. “There was a time when I thought I was in possession of pupils who would one day surpass me in greatness and power. As it was, none of them did. Julius simply didn’t have what it takes. And Oswald was stolen from me. But you--”
Mickey trembled slightly when Yen Sid stood to his full height.
“You were the only one who I knew would last.”
“What do ya mean?” Mickey asked, trying not to shiver.
“Did you wonder why I kept you on as my apprentice, even after you flooded my workshop? It was because I saw something greater in you than I ever had in my other students. Something that would teach and preserve my magical greatness to all who crossed him. And by extension, preserve me,” Yen Sid said.
“Bu--Preserved? Ya don’t need that. Nobody will ever forget the lessons ya taught. Especially when they’re all teachin’ folks too,” Mickey reasoned.
“I’m afraid it’s not so simple,” said the wizard. “Though you are well learned, you still do not understand the fragility of magic. When it wanes, so will I. And with me will go you, your friends, your beloved Minnie. Everything you have ever seen or heard about. Every place you’ve ever been to. Anybody who you have passed by and never gave a second glance. Without our magic, it will all disappear.”
“So ya spread yer magic everywhere else? So they can all go down with the ship!?” Mickey said, gradually clenching his fists.
“The chances of other realms failing grow slimmer by the moment, as soon as I touch them with my influence. Without me, they would fade away in a matter of time. And even if we were to disappear, we would still be able to live on in those other worlds,” said Yen Sid, glaring more harshly.
“And ruin what makes them them!?” Mickey snapped, pointing to the silvery sludge that the Equestrian magic had become. “Why should ya ruin what makes ‘em special!? Is it because they’re doin’ it wrong!? Or ‘cause yer scared they might get more powerful than you someday?!!”
Yen Sid’s face froze completely after hearing Mickey’s words. And it was this silence that made Mickey think he was right.
“None can be more powerful than I,” Yen Sid said in a low voice. “Nobody had discovered the secrets of magic before me. And nobody has since. I alone truly understand the fabric and machinations of the arcane. With it, I have created a unified balance of harmony in every realm I have since conquered. And you, Mickey Mouse--” he said, pointing a long, gnarled finger at Mickey, who inched backward from it. “--You are going to help me spread my magic throughout this world.”
Mickey wracked his brain for a way to counter. But, it was no use. For as long as he had known Yen Sid, the old wizard was always right. About everything. Even so, the mouse made his choice.
“No,” Mickey said, trying to sound bold. “I got too many friends who are countin’ on me to help them save their world.”
“With what magic?” Yen Sid complacently asked.
“There’s more than one way to use magic! Even what you got! And me an’ my pals are gonna keep goin’, until you’re gone from their world!”
“That,” Yen Sid said with utter finality, “Will be the undoing of all you work toward.”
Mickey could stand it no longer. He picked up a beaker and threw it straight at his former master’s head.
Before the beaker left his fingertips, Yen Sid folded his hands, making silvery, shimmering light burst from them.
Mickey found himself at the end of his throw, and leaned hard into it. And suddenly, he was standing on a precipice and facing a towering flame.
He flailed his arms around, trying not to fall into the fire. And in a moment, he was pulled backwards by his tail.
“Mickey!? What on Equestria’s gotten into you?” Rarity asked.
The scenery suddenly snapped to Mickey’s attention.
He was back in Nagruk-pak’s house, facing the fire pit. Nothing was out of place. Nothing seemed abnormal or out of the ordinary.
“Nothin’. Guess I lost my head there for a sec’,” Mickey answered.
“Please, see that you don’t lose it from now on. I don’t know if I can bear losing somepony else.”
The look on Rarity’s face made Mickey realize just how much the magical quest had affected her to that point. What she had seen. What she had experienced. Most of all, who she had lost.
“Here,” Rarity said, passing folded clothes to the mouse, “I fixed the clothes that were given to us. So, they’d be easier to wear.”
“Thanks. Goodness knows we need winter clothes,” Mickey said, accepting them from Rarity. “Hang on.”
He lifted the rug out from beneath his feet and set it on end, using it as a screen to hide from view.
Rarity used the opportunity to change herself, and quickly put on her modified clothing. The moment she finished, she saw a hood briefly rise over the top of the screen from the other side of the rug, before it slid back to the floor as neatly as if it were on a conveyor.
Mickey’s was simple. Modified into a smaller jacket and pants, with a matching pair of boots and thick, heavy mittens. What made it stand out from the parka Nagruk-pak had worn was the patterns that had been stitched into it with the thick cords that Rarity had used to stitch it together. Whatever excess there was had been put to use by what looked like a range of mountains with a rising sun and moon peering over them.
Rarity’s was equally simple, but just as distinct. She had made a very fluffy coat and four boots that reached nearly up to her body. And they were all fringed with fluffier material that swayed whenever she moved.
“Ya did good, Rarity. Ain’t nothin’ that can chill us now,” Mickey said.
“I have a third one as well,” Rarity said, revealing a third set of clothes. “For Twilight. When we find her.”
For as hopeful as she sounded, both mouse and pony knew it was forced. Any chance of finding Twilight was next to nil. Even if they had been guided by their magic light.
A gentle tinkering noise made their ears twitch.
Looking to the window by the door, they saw a small, shimmering light drifting through the haze of snow.
Quick as they could, they both ran to the window and looked outside, hoping to see something following the light.
It was not what they had hoped.
The glimmering squirrel that accompanied Nagruk-pak drifted across the ground, glided up the steps in front of the house, and passed right through the door. Once it was inside, it stopped and looked at Mickey and Rarity both.
After a moment of staring, it started toward the door, looked back at them and left through the door again.
The message was clear without words. The squirrel wanted them to follow it. Why? They hoped that it was going to guide them to where they needed to be. Or where they hoped to be.
The moment they stepped outside, another light was seen. One that was orange-red and the size of a large coin. Behind the light was the dark shadow of a larger shape.
There came a clicking noise from the shape.
“Move!” Mickey shouted.
He and Rarity dove off of the front porch, when a hail of bullets perforated the woodwork where they were just standing.
Of all the times, of all the places, why did he have to show up?
If the squirrel was taking them where they thought, there was little point in staying to fight. Instead, Mickey and Rarity opted to try and sneak away.
But, Pete would not be deterred so easily.
He drove the blade of his snow shovel into the ground and cranked hard on the handle.
A wave of snow rose up as if the ground beneath it were rippling outward.
Everything beneath the ripple of snow jumped up. Even the trees, totems and buildings.
Mickey and Rarity were taken off of their feet, and in an instant found themselves in the air, then falling flat into the snow.
The squirrel chattered at them, urging them to get up and follow it. And as it tried to help them, it loosed a frightened squeak and darted up a wall.
The source of its distress was obvious. There was Pete plowing toward them with his snow shovel deep in the snow, ready to entomb his opponents in ice before the night was done.