Twilight crept nervously through the halls of the crystal palace, levitating half a dozen books around her in a gentle cloud. Her mane was disheveled, and there were bags under her eyes. The ramblings of long-dead wizards overlapped in her head, each one a contradiction to half of the others. She dreaded every step, and the news she would have to deliver. But she’d reached the point that a few more minutes in the library just weren’t going to magically fix everything.
The throne room was every bit as chaotic as she’d expected. Sun streamed through the stained glass, and she shielded her eyes with a reflexive wing. Of course the sun would be up.
Dozens of pony guards packed into the corners of the room, with their dull ceremonial spears swapped out for real metal weapons. They didn’t really seem to know what to do, and Twilight could hardly blame them. What were a few mostly traditional soldiers supposed to do about the disappearance of the most important child in all of Equestria?
“Twilight!” Cadance’s voice cut through the din, shrill and desperate. Her horn glowed, and Twilight felt herself yanked there with a none-too-gentle drag of magic. She nearly lost her grip on the priceless ancient books, but she managed to bring them along behind her in a line, as she settled under the throne.
If Twilight looked bad, then Cadence was an order of magnitude worse. Her makeup smeared down her face, half her mane was stuck sideways with long strands extending outward like she’d survived a mane product explosion. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she had one of Flurry’s little dolls tucked into the throne beside her.
“Oh, Twily’s here. Here for the eleventh hour save, huh little sis?”
Shining looked a little better than his wife, if only because of the full suit of armor he was wearing. He was used to rough conditions working with the Royal Guard that a princess like Cadence wouldn’t have endured. Even so, his voice quavered and shook with every word. He was barely holding himself together.
“Did the Guard find anything?” she asked, running her magic through her mane to straighten it. “You must’ve turned the city upside down by now.”
“Twice,” he said bleakly. “I’m certain that our little princess isn’t here. Not in any home, not in the palace, not even the sewers.”
Buck. She had to know when walking in that they’d obviously not had any luck. If Flurry had been found, Cadence wouldn’t be letting her out of her presence. “But you must’ve known that,” Cadence prompted. “Because you’re here to tell us exactly what must’ve happened. Right, Twilight?”
She winced, shuffling through her piles of books awkwardly. “Well, Cadence...” There was no use beating around it. “I have several theories, but no easy answers.”
Cadance’s face twitched, and she seemed to sink a little into her throne. “Y-you… don’t know?”
“There are several possibilities,” she repeated. “Cadence, there’s… I’ve narrowed down what happened. Big questions like this don’t usually get solved instantly. We have to narrow things down, until we’re left with the right answer. And I have managed to reduce the size of our search space.”
“I just want to find my baby,” Cadence said. “I’m… I don’t mean to be sharp with you, Twilight. But I’m not sure who else can help. Nopony understands magic the way you do.”
Not quite true, Twilight thought, but she wasn’t going to argue. She planned on returning to Ponyville to consult with one of the ponies who might actually be able to help her understand this. It was going to be a larger undertaking than reading a few old texts in the Crystal Empire’s library.
“I’m going to help you find her,” she repeated, maybe for the dozenth time. “So this is what I know. What we saw—it wasn’t any kind of elaborate foal napping. It wasn’t an evil scheme, or Sombra returned. I examined the magical signatures carefully, and there’s only one there. Flurry Heart’s. And given her age, you can guess what option that leaves.”
“She had her first real magic surge,” Shining said. “We thought that was probably it. But I’ve never heard of a pony just disappearing from one of those. Did she…” He lowered his voice. “Is she alright?”
The question might be vague, but Twilight understood the implication: Did my daughter use her uncontrollable magical power to blow herself up? Is she dead? “The kind of spell you’re thinking is conscious and purposeful, Shining. So no, I think it’s safe to say she didn’t hurt herself with her magic. It was a teleport. If she was just another unicorn, then she’d be limited to visual range the way most unicorns are, and we’d already have found her. But given she’s an Alicorn, I believe she would be able to cast Worldgate spells instinctively, the way some unicorns teleport in little hops.”
Cadance’s expression only sunk further, and she squeaked faintly, picking up Flurry’s doll and squeezing it in her forelegs as though it was the missing child.
“Pretend I’ve never heard of that before,” Shining said. “What’s a, uh… Worldgate?”
“A long-range teleportation spell,” Twilight supplied. At least she was back into familiar subjects, and wouldn’t have to think about how pathetic and broken Cadence looked. But would I feel any better if I’d just lost my child? “We’re talking city to city. Only the best-trained unicorns can ever hope to cast them. For Alicorns it’s easier, but still not easy. They’re hard enough that I usually take the train into Canterlot, instead of risking the spell.”
“She could be anywhere,” Cadence moaned. “What do we do, Twilight? We can’t search all Equestria. She could be… out in the woods somewhere, all alone. Or freezing cold in the snow, or in a lake, or…”
She could be. Twilight could offer no words of comfort there, except: “Worldgates usually use sympathetic connection—it’s the magical measurement of how attached to a place or thing you are. So it probably won’t be out in the wilderness somewhere, since Flurry has never even seen the outside of the Empire yet. She’s not going to feel a connection to places she’s never been.”
“But Twily, she’s never even been outside the palace before. If that’s how the spell works, shouldn’t she be inside somewhere?”
“Well…” Twilight winced. “Everything around us is connected to lots of other things. You’ve got paintings of places all over Equestria. Her furniture wasn’t all made here in the Crystal Empire, or her clothes, or… anything she might’ve touched. It’s still a lot to investigate. I’d like to ask for something meaningful to her I can use for a tracking spell. Something she touched recently. Then I’ll get a balloon and follow the spell.”
“That’s it?” Cadence lit up, vanishing from her throne and appearing in front of Twilight, holding out the doll. “Here, this was her favorite. So you’ll cast a spell on this, and we can follow it?”
Twilight took the doll, unable to meet Cadance’s eyes. The pupils were so wide they were almost black, like an addict who hadn’t been treated. “I need some other raw materials from my castle, and some help.” And probably a nap. “From the look of it, you need some sleep too. Just remember, all Equestria knows about her. Wherever she ended up, I’m sure Flurry Heart is around friendly hooves who will keep an eye on her until we find her.”
Twilight considered explaining the rest of how a Worldgate spell worked, but with how strained and broken Cadance’s expression looked, she thought better of it. Maybe she’ll be feeling a little better when I get back. Or maybe she wouldn’t have the heart to tell her. Maybe she’d just have to hope their search was successful, and they found the foal at the end of the tracking spell.
Nothing bad could happen to a sweet little foal. Somepony would keep an eye on her, Twilight was sure of that.