“...so, I tried to fight them off, but then they—”
My ears perked up. “Shshshsh,” I hissed, waving a hoof at Blueblood.
The idiot actually had the audacity to look offended.
“If you’re not interested enough in me to know what happened,” he said, pouting, “then all you have to do is—”
“Seriously, Blue—shut up,” I snapped at him.
Blueblood shot me a smoldering glare, then finally shut his foundering mouth.
I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I looked around in the blackness, listening hard. Finally, I pointed with a hoof.
“Over there,” I said. “I think I hear water.”
Blueblood raised an eyebrow, then turned and trotted towards where I was pointing.
“Nonono, more to the right,” I pleaded.
He groaned, but he did, at least, turn to the right.
I plodded after him, trying to avoid tripping on any loose stones. I had forgotten how much of a pain Blueblood could be. And how much of a whiner. And a coward, for that matter. I mean, when had he ever been scared of the dark? Or frightened of jumping over a little gap? Or when had he ever broken down crying, and had to have his little sister literally haul him back onto his hooves? If he wasn’t my only source of light down here, I would have left him behind long ago…
We entered a tight, suffocating tunnel that pressed in on all sides, but the sound of water was louder here. We followed it for a while, and suddenly, the walls opened wide. I cried aloud, then dashed forward: a waterfall, raining down from high above, sparkled in the light from Blueblood’s horn. And there, it fell into a deep, cold pool that drained into a narrow channel cut through the rock itself.
I took a mouthful of water from the pond, then swished the ice-cold water around in my mouth, and spat.
“Blech,” I said, sticking my tongue out. “Tastes like dirt.”
“What do you expect from water that’s been underground for ten thousand years?” Blue muttered.
I shot him a dirty look, but bent down and took another mouthful. I swished it around a bit, then gargled.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I spat out the water again. “Trying to get what’s left of that… that goop out of my mouth,” I replied.
Blue made a face, but I ignored him.
“If you’re thirsty, get a drink now,” I said. “I’m gonna try and clean off a bit.”
Blue rolled his eyes, but obediently bent down and took a drink. I watched him for a moment, then followed his example. The water was nasty, and bitterly cold, but I still sucked it down greedily; I hadn’t realized how thirsty I was.
I drank my fill, then straightened up and stared down at the water. Gingerly, I walked out a few feet, until the water came up to my knees. I swallowed nervously, but did not move.
“What’s the holdup?” Blueblood asked. “You’re not afraid of a little water now, are you?”
“Kinda,” I admitted.
Then, I took a deep breath, and plunged my head into the pond.
The freezing water slammed into me like a sledgehammer. I screamed, but nothing came out but bubbles. I clenched my chattering teeth, then raised my hoof and started to scrub at my horn.
Eventually, I surfaced, then staggered to the shore. I plopped down, shivering, on the rocks. I whimpered, then clutched at my head with one hoof, and rubbed at my horn with the other.
Blueblood raised an eyebrow.
“Brain freeze,” I grunted. “Horn hurts.”
“Does it work, at least?” he asked.
I wrapped my hooves around myself, trying to stop my shivering, then closed my eyes and concentrated. At first, nothing happened—but then, I felt it. A gentle tingle in the base of my horn that spread upwards, growing stronger and stronger. I opened my eyes and grinned. The light flickered once or twice, but it held—my horn was glowing again! I turned and looked at Blueblood, who stared back at me with a wry grin.
As I looked at him, a shiver ran down my spine. The blue light from his horn, and the gold light from mine, combined to cast a sickly, greenish light over our surroundings. That weird, alien light made even Blue’s eyes glow green...
But, before I could say anything, Blueblood doused his horn. Now the only light coloring him was my own golden aura.
“Good timing,” he said, walking up beside me. “I was starting to get a headache.”
I rolled my eyes and shook my head. Then, I sighed and stretched out a wing, then bent down and swished it through the water beside me. I held it up again, then began to gently work the feathers with my hooves to try and get all the mucus out of them. Already, the ooze I had washed off my horn was starting to form a film across the pond. No idea what that was going to do to the local environment—but, then again, there wasn’t much down here except the occasional blind cave fish…
“So, what’s been going on the past few days?” Blueblood asked suddenly.
I jumped a little, then turned to look at him. “Huh?”
“What’s been going on?” he repeated. “Been out of the loop a bit…”
I glanced up at him, but worked another feather with my hoof before I answered. “Well… you know,” I said. “It’s a wedding. A Royal one. So there’s bound to be chaos.”
He smirked, a sad sort of longing in his expression.
“I wouldn’t know,” he said. “This is my first time getting married, after all.”
I rolled my eyes, then moved onto the next feather. “But… it’s been weird, too,” I continued. “Things keep on going wrong. Like, yesterday, half the Guard showed up to do marching drills in the gardens, right as the Palace staff were setting up the chairs and tables for the reception. And the flowers arrived, but they were all Dragonsneeze Flowers, which a bunch of the guests turned out to be allergic to. Not to mention, the Griffonstone delegation showed up this morning before their rooms were even ready, and the bridesmaids dresses came out all the wrong sizes…”
Blueblood nodded. “Sounds like someone is trying to sabotage the whole thing,” he said. “Though… I think we already knew that.”
I nodded. “That’s an understatement,” I said. “That’s how I ended up here, actually,” I added. “I thought that maybe you were sabotaging things on purpose. So I tried to confront you privately and find out what in the name of Tartarus you were up to. But turns out that it wasn’t you, and I ended up down here, so…”
“...yeah,” Blueblood finished for me. “Sorry about that, for whatever it’s worth.”
“Thanks,” I said.
I ran my wing through the water again, rinsing off the slime I’d managed to work loose, then flapped it. It was still wet and gross, of course, and not all the feathers were lined up properly. Not great for flying, but there was no way I was going to try and actually preen them until after I’d had a proper shower. But still, it felt like it would hold, as long as I didn’t try and pull any stunts.
I scootched around so my other wing was facing the water, got it wet, then started working on it. I hadn’t even managed to finish the first feather, though, when my hooves started shaking.
“There’s something else,” I said, putting my hooves down.
“Hm?” he asked, looking up.
“Twilight, she…” I swallowed. “She’s mad at me.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“Over breakfast, she was… cold,” I said. “She was supposed to help me with some last-minute preparations, using those lists of hers and everything, but she barely spoke to me.” I closed my eyes. “She was fine yesterday afternoon… I don’t know what I did wrong…”
I wasn’t crying, I don’t think. But I wasn’t sure I would be able to tell the tears from the pondwater already on my cheeks, anyways…
Blueblood nodded slowly. “Do you think that maybe those… those bugs were messing with her, too?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered miserably. “I don’t think so…”
Neither of us spoke for a while. Finally, I went back to cleaning my wing. After another minute, Blueblood shifted uncomfortably. “How’s Rarity?” he asked.
I looked up at him. He stared back, fear and hope in his eyes. As I watched, he leaned forward slightly, his lips parted, waiting for me to speak.
“She’s fine,” I said.
He sighed, leaned back, and smiled.
“Stressed, of course,” I continued, “but she’s happy and healthy.”
He nodded. “Good,” he said.
I watched him for a moment. I knew he loved her, of course—why else would he be marrying a common seamstress?—but in that moment, I felt it. And, despite myself, the tension in my gut began to unclench the slightest bit.
I turned and gave him a little smile—but then, I saw something.
Without another word, I doused my horn.
“Cece!” Blue yelped. “Turn the light back on!”
“Oh, pipe down,” I hissed.
Thick blackness enveloped us, and, for just a moment, I felt the same, suffocating fear—
But as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized that I could still see Blueblood—or his outline, at least. He was a different shade of black than the darkness around him, different than the rocks and the water…
I grinned, then looked up.
And there, far above, at the top of the waterfall, was light. Not much, of course—just a faint glimmer on the ceiling—but still, light.
“That’s our way out,” I breathed.
“How?” Blueblood asked, a whine in his voice. “Only one of us has wings, and there’s no way I’m letting you leave me down here…”
I opened my mouth, then shut it. I hadn’t realized flying was even a possibility until he said it. And, to be sure, it was a tempting one…
I set my jaw. “I’ll fly both of us out,” I said.
Blueblood scoffed. “As if,” he shot back. “You’re gonna drop me.”
“Do you have a better idea?” I spat back.
“Yeah,” he replied. “The old one. Walk.”
“Aw, quit being a baby and let me grab you.”
Blueblood grumbled under his breath, but stood and turned around, offering himself to be carried. I sighed and shook my head.
I spread my wings and flapped them once—my beautiful wings—spraying both of us with water and muck. I would have made quite a sight, if there were anyone around to watch.
“You ever flown before?” I asked Blueblood.
“Not on purpose,” he replied.
“Well hold on tight,” I said, wrapping my arms around him. “Because this is going to get a little hairy.”