//------------------------------//
// Chapter 24 
// Story: A Bug on a Stick 
// by Orbiting Kettle 
//------------------------------//

The farm was nothing more than a vague smear in the distance, a suggestion.

Garvino felt his wings burn and exhaustion and pain tear into his sides. And yet he had to endure, to return home, to—

Was that door so close before? What—

It was just a brief hit, and then blessed darkness followed.

When the light returned, so did the pain tormenting every muscle in his body. Voices spouting garbled nonsense surrounded him.

"—he survive?" The voices started making some kind of sense. That sounded like Meadowsweet. Poor Meadowsweet, she seemed worried.

"He is in bad shape but should recover. He'll need rest. A lot of it." Willowbark was calm. It was soothing. Good Willowbark, always could count on him.

Ginvera's voice was welcome. Sweet little Ginevra. "Wouldn't worry too much. His head is way harder than the door."

They were all there. It was nice, it was—

Everything came back in a flood of fear and desperation. Garvino blinked. He had to warn them. That was the only reason he had made it back. He opened his beak and croaked a strangled squeak.

A mug filled with water floated up to him. He drank, then tried again. "The Cult is coming."

Master Sottile entered his field of vision. There was a serious expression on his face, like something chiseled into stone. "What happened to you?"

"They got me north of Everfree Haven. Had some fliers and nasty spells. Didn't even see 'em coming." Garvino's voice felt like gravel in his throat. Scratching, rolling around in all the wrong places, clogging up. "Captured me, held me prisoner, asked me where to find you, what defenses there were, how many guards. Got some griffins with 'em. Nasty pieces of work, roughed me up. Couldn't see them that well, was blindfolded later, but I smelt 'em. And I felt 'em too."

Sand scraped his lungs. He coughed. It didn't matter. He’d endured worse. "They know where we are. They got me. They're kinda worried about soldiers, though. Don't have many forces, I think. I—" Garvino winced as it felt like a claw rammed in his side.

"Don't move. I think you broke a rib when you crashed." Willowbark sounded cold, detached. Meant he was worried.

"'on't matt'r." He breathed gravel and sand. "They'll come. Need to get the little ones away." He needed a long sleep and half a roc and a week of listlessness. "Guards? They'll come? When?"

Master Sottile hadn't said anything for a while. He had just stood there, a grave expression on his face, bags under his eyes. "I called them, they'll be here tomorrow." His horn lit up. "Wards are closed, we should be able to hold out. Tell me exactly what happened, from the beginning. Something's not right."

Garvino leaned on the pillow Willowbark had put under him. "I was flying for half a day, maybe more. Was just north of Everfree Haven, wanted to get the mountain winds to help me. They got me then. Couple of griffins—kinda looked familiar—came out from a cloud, some spells flew my way. Didn't let them take me unscathed, though. Got me in a net and got a sack on my head. Then gave me back what I had given them."

The whole flock was assembled there. Meadowsweet had returned from the fields. Only Radish was kept outside with his father. Everybody seemed worried and sad.

It was the look of pain on the fillies' faces that nearly broke Garvino's heart. It almost hurt more than his wounds. Luna was trying to hide it, but it was pretty clear what she felt. Celestia was more open about it, and about the fury burning in her too. For a moment he considered if he should really tell everything. And then he looked at little Chrysalis. The one who felt everything anyway.

They would have to face something like this, sooner or later. Master Sottile had said it. They were growing up, and nobody could protect them forever.

"Brought me in a cell in an abandoned farm in the mountains. Was a cellar, just added some bars. There was some unicorn, was the boss, I think. Started asking lots of questions, didn't like the answers one bit." He chuckled. It hurt. "Was stubborn. Me? I'm worse. First day there was a lot of talk. Then griffins helped him. At the end they gave me stuff to drink. Made me very groggy. Not sure what I told 'em. Don't think anything they didn't already know. Very worried about wards and guards. Don't know anything about that."

Willowbark put something against his beak. A mug. Garvino drank. There was honey. Not enough to hide the bitterness. It was foul. Meant it was good medicine. Made him feel better.

"We will go with the guards to Everfree Haven tomorrow." Master Sottile sighed. "It's time to join House Sapphire, I suppose. At least for a while."

Luna and Celestia looked at each other, then the smaller filly asked, "Garvino, how did you flee?"

"Guess they got sloppy." Garvino tried to find a better position and failed. "Woke up after the stuff I drank. Think they knew I couldn't tell them more. Bars were badly built, could dig out one. There was just one guard when I got out. Knocked him out, and then flew like I had the claws of winter on my tail."

Master Sottile looked into the distance, unfocused. "Something is not right. Them becoming sloppy is uncharacteristic. Maybe something else worried them. I don't think they would simply leave us be."

"Don't know, was too groggy to think too much. Had been asleep for days, I think."

"Something's wrong. Something's very wrong." Pacing was something Master Sottile did very rarely. "You said they were worried about guards and wards, correct? And then they gave you something to drink, and then..." He stopped and his horn flashed with magic. Color drained from his face. "Poison."

"What?"

Master Sottile jumped forward, magic still active, and opened Garvino's wing. A moment later he plucked a feather and held it in the air.

The room was silent. All around the stem of the feather, there were weakly glowing symbols.

Garvino was the first to find his voice again. "What is that?"

There was no color in Master Sottile's voice as he answered. "Poison for the wards, destroying them from the inside. They are here."





It had been too good. Luna knew it. It couldn't have lasted.

As she ran along with her sisters and Meadowsweet, Radish holding strong on his mother's neck, it surprised her that the worst part wasn't even the thought of all the nice things she would lose, it was the icy certainty that they would never be together again clenching her heart and stomach. It would all fall apart, and even if she had grown up there was nothing she could do.

"Meadowsweet, we can stay and fight." Tia's voice was almost a growl.

There was something in Meadowsweet's answer that sent a shiver down Luna's back. "No, you can't. You have to stay safe." She stopped in front of Fidelis' room and pulled the door open.

Small crystals and shards of glass formed colorful geometric patterns on the walls and ceiling, sparkling and shimmering even with the small amount of light pouring in through the door. A low bed held a mass of wool blankets on it and a shoulder-high pile of clay tablets at its side. On a shelf sat a couple dozen cheerful statues of all manner of speaking peoples. It was such a screeching contrast to what Luna felt.

Meadowsweet entered and lowered her head to the floor. "..., eleven, twelve. Here." She barked something which didn't sound at all like something a pony could say, and with a low rumbling, the stones lowered into the ground and opened a ramp.

Luna stared into the darkness and felt tears well up in her eyes.

"Celestia, keep Radish close. Light up the way just until you reach the room at the end, then stop using magic. There's a little hole, it works as a kind of a sun clock. We will do everything we can to get you back, but if we do—" Meadowsweet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "—if we'd—" She shook her head. "If we can't get you by the day after tomorrow, then we shall have at least sent the ones looking for you someplace far away. There's another tunnel. Use it to leave, and then go to Everfree Haven. Chrysalis can guide you. Go to House Sapphire and ask them to honor the contract and take you in. They'll—Master Sottile took precautions. You'll become part of their House and you'll be safe."

Tia took Radish in her forelegs and hugged him. "And you? I—Can't you all come with us? There's the tunnel, right? We can escape together. You—" Tia's voice broke and became a whisper. "Please, don't leave us alone."

"We..." Meadowsweet sat down on her haunches and hugged Tia and Radish. She leaned out and grabbed Chryssi and Luna with her other foreleg. "They know who we are. We planned for something like this, but we can't leave. If we want to win we'll need every hoof, paw, and claw. Anyone could make the difference. I would never be able to sleep if I thought that maybe I could have changed a loss to a victory and hadn't been there."

"Then let us stay and help." Pressed against Meadowsweet's cheek, Luna felt dampness on her mane. She forced herself to put strength she didn't feel behind her words. "If we can make a difference, let us stay."

Meadowsweet's hug became stronger. "My sweet, little Luna. We can't. You have to stay free. That's all that matters. Nothing else. And I and everybody else will go through the Icy Wastes for that."

"We aren't the ones of the prophecy." Tia's voice sounded determined, calm, like she was an adult. Luna could almost believe her sister wasn't as scared as herself. "We aren't the ones fated to—"

"We know. We don't care."

"But—"

"No." There was Authority in Meadowsweet's voice. Not the sort that had scolded them or had given them chores for years. No, it was a different kind, one Luna had never heard before. One that made her and her sisters shut up and listen. "You don't know everything. If we lose, if they get you, they may not hurt you, but you'll lose your freedom. We can't have that. We don't want that. We won't allow that. And it's not only about you, it's about Radish too. I...Willowbark is an adult, he can choose, but I won't allow Radish to be put at risk." 

Meadowsweet released them from the hug and sat back. "I trust him upon you. I don't want to. I want you to stay fillies, to stay carefree, and for that, I will go back and kick some snouts and hope that it will be enough. But if it isn't, then you'll have to make sure you and he stay free." Her voice fell. "Please."

"Mom! Don't cry!" Radish clambered on Tia's head and held his forelegs out.

Meadowsweet took Radish and hugged him. She whispered something into his ear and put him down. "Please, keep him safe."

Luna, Tia, and Chryssi looked at each other.

There was a mass of anger, fear, uncertainty, and so much else brewing in Luna's heart. It was ugly and complicated and she didn't want to deal with it. She pushed it down and away. There was no time to waste on it at the moment anyway. Meadowsweet needed them, even if it was for something they didn't like. There really was no question about if they would do what she asked of them.

While Tia held her forelegs out for Radish, Luna said, "We'll do it. Please, be safe and come back for us."

Meadowsweet smiled and wiped her cheeks. "We'll move mountains to do that. Now go, there's not much time."

Tia held a sniffling Radish and walked down the ramp. Chryssi followed.

Luna looked a last time at Meadowsweet. There was so much she wanted to say. So many things she had never even known she wanted to tell her family. She couldn't. Silently Luna turned around and followed her sisters into the darkness.





It was strange to look at a feather and see years of work rotting away in what felt like the blink of an eye. It almost made Master Sottile's heart ache. It would have if he wasn't currently busy being worried and terrified of what was about to come through.

Maybe…

Magic was a fickle thing. Delicate, wild, unpredictable. If he convinced it to reverse the poisoning of the wards then there could be a chance to stop the fight even before it started. His horn lit up, the delicate filigree of the spells twisted and turned, wove into a new tapestry, built new connections.

And then broke apart slightly faster than before.

He dropped the feather. It had done its work and was nothing more than a bitter memento at this point.

A heavy clunk had him turn around.

Donna Copper horn stood there with her old maul. It was little more than a brutish piece of bronze at the end of a long, metallic handle. Simple, undecorated, ugly, so different from her combs and her tools. The faint disgust painted on her face added to the grim image.

"Are you sure you need to use—"

"Will the wards keep them out?" Donna Copper Horn sounded like she looked. "Will we be safe until tomorrow?"

"No." There was no reason to avoid the truth. "They will break through."

"Then I'll need it. Ginevra is still on the roof trying to see how many of them are out there. She told me there were about two dozen ponies and some griffins. Couldn't get an exact count, though. They were hiding in the trees." Donna Copper Horn passed a hand over her eyes. "They aren't really trying to hide their presence. I guess some workers have seen them from the fields. Maybe we'll get a mob to help us, although I doubt it. Griffins are scary, tend to keep away everything that isn't a guard."

Fidelis lifted his head from the floor. "Twenty-two ponies and something very, very heavy. They're moving."

No more time for despair or fear. Master Sottile closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Right, Fidelis, go look for a way out. Donna Copper Horn, I'll go into Willowbark's laboratory. He's treating Garvino there, and it is the safest place we can be right now. Will you come with me, please?"

As Donna Copper Horn kneeled down and put a hand on his back he saw, for a moment, the soft, caring minotaur he had known for such a long time. "No, I will keep them busy here. A lot of noise and a couple of bruised backsides should distract at least some of them." And then it disappeared once again. "They won't ignore it, you can be sure of that."

At the border of his consciousness, the tapestry of the wards fell apart. Not much remained aside from the frame, and even that would soon succumb. Fate would pass like a wild storm and Master Sottile could do nothing more to stop it, just try to weather it. There would be time for bitterness and regret later. "Fidelis, go. Let us hope you'll find a way."

Fidelis stood up and looked at them. His ears turned down for a moment before he jumped forward and hugged Donna Copper Horn. "Stay safe." He stepped back, looked at Master Sottile, and said, "Will do my best," and then disappeared through the door.

Donna Copper Horn smiled. "I too shall do my best."

The frame of the ward began to rot and crack. Heavy thumps resounded from the gate in the walls.

"Stay safe, Donna Copper Horn. If we get through this, I can't do it alone." There were no more words worth saying as Master Sottile left the kitchen. And that, probably, was the most painful realization of all.





Radish had promised Mom to be brave and good. He would be, because Radish was not one for breaking promises.

He put his face into Tia's neck and closed his eyes. It was a better darkness than the one in the hideout. Less scary, made it easier to keep the tears away.

He could feel the noise through the floor more than he could hear it. It was an awful lot of noise. Thundering noise. Crashing noise.

Bad noise.

He had to think about something else.

There was some magic in the stones all around them. Fidelis' magic. He could feel it. A bit of it. Fidelis had taught him. He had told him he had a talent for it. Maybe he could even get a mark for it. The best masons could listen to the stone, even if not as well as Fidelis.

Radish would like that. He liked stones and rocks. They were neat. Full of secrets too. Fidelis told him some of them, and they were nifty. Radish hoped that Fidelis could teach him more when it all had ended. When Fidelis and Mom and Dad and all the others would be back.

Something powerful and bad made the ground tremble.

Maybe just a couple of tears were fine. Radish pressed himself into Tia.

He felt Lulu and Chryssi press on him from the sides, putting him in the middle of a pile. That was good.

"Light up the room a bit, Tia." There was something bad in Lulu's hissing. Radish didn't like that.

Tia hissed too. "I can't. No magic. I...I hate it. I hate, hate, hate it. But if nothing else, I can keep the promise." Radish didn't like that either.

It was all awful and bad and scary. Adventures were fun and great stories like those his dad told. They were about weird, far-away places. There were friends to make and meanies to kick in the snout before swinging away and songs to sing and laughs to have.

Mom had said this was an adventure and that he should be brave. But this didn't feel like an adventure. How could he be brave when this wasn't an adventure? Had...Had Mom lied? Mom never lied.

He sobbed into Tia's side. This was a nightmare, and he wanted to wake up and have his mom come and hug him. He wanted to know what was going on. He wanted her to explain it. He wanted out.





Seals glowed on the walls, the paint flaking off with each attack on their refuge.

If Willowbark had a couple of hours he could repair it easily. Sadly, he hadn't a couple of hours and instead had to live from moment to moment.

Something crashed and rumbled somewhere on the farm, making the floor shiver and the vials jingle and clink on the table. Willowbark's heart stopped for a moment, but he resumed his dance when nothing went up in smoke and flames.

Everything was on the brink. His tinctures, potions, his life, and most importantly, his family.

Considering all that, Willowbark was once again thankful that he had learned to bind his anger to his reagents. Adding a bit of his metaphorical fury into the terracotta flask was a good feeling, tempering the helplessness of their situation. He breathed out, corked it, and held it up. "Ready."

Master Sottile's magic surrounded it and lifted it in the air. "How many more can you make?"

The laboratory was a mess. Cabinets had been moved against the windows, and the walls were slathered with paint and chalk in a messy web of spells and wards. The air stank of brimstone and iron. Pots sitting on the braziers embedded in the floor spouted colorful fumes to dance one with another on the ceiling. The trapdoor to the Laboratory's storage stood open like a gaping maw, coughing up the sound of Millet's searching through the supplies.

A well-supplied mess. Willowbark grabbed the mortar and filled it up again. "Enough as that it won't matter. These wards will fall soon too, I fear."

The flask floated to Meadowsweet sitting by the door. She grabbed it, opened the door just a crack, threw it out, and closed again. Soon a hail of curses and shouts echoed from outside and the humming of the protective spells subsided as the attacks stopped.

Master Sottile sighed. "Every hour counts. And your laboratory is solid enough. We just have to endure until tomorrow, or until Fidelis finds another way out. Or maybe until Donna Copper Horn sends them fleeing." He chuckled. "Or maybe some other miracle will happen. Something saving us from my foolishness."

From the pile of cushions on the far side of the room, Garvino pushed himself up against the wall with Ginevra's help. "Give us the fire-mushroom brew and we're gonna make that miracle happen."

"No, you're gonna kill somebody and then you'll die when it burns you out." The round stone laid in Willowbark's hoof almost like an extension to his foreleg. The scratching and grinding in the mortar were a calming song. "Fire-mushroom brew is medicine. I won't use it any other way, and certainly not for some foolish griffon's idea of a grand exit."

"We didn't ask you." There was a low growling in Ginevra's voice. "Donna Copper Horn is out there fighting, but even she won't be able to win alone. Give us the brew. Some of them are gonna die, but they’d kill us anyway."

There was a kind of certainty that had been missing for days in Master Sottile's voice as he said, "That's not their way. And neither is it ours. We will not fight with the intention to kill. Doing so would... We can't risk the future."

Ginevra spat, "You're so sure they're gonna play nice with us? Look what they did to Garvino! You said the fillies are not the ones of the prophecy, we don't have to play by those rules. We—"

"We're gonna do what Master Sottile said." Garvino groaned and sat down. "He's right. Not gonna get a better future when we fall back on old habits when it gets tough. Sorry for asking for the brew. Head's still a bit foggy. Ginevra, you're a good chick, keep at it."

"So what?" Ginevra huffed. "What are we gonna do? Let them come and get us? Serve them the fillies?"

Willowbark stopped his grinding and looked up. "My brother's there too, my mother's at the door fighting, and my father is filling up my reserves of reagents. Does this look like giving up?" He felt anger divert from his art and well up inside his chest. That wouldn't do. His hoof started up again, the round stone against the leaves in the mortar. His emotions flowed out through the gestures to where they would be useful. "I won't kill anybody, but by the Five Transitions, I'm going to have them work to get us."
 




Earth and stone, roots and water, the world below the ground was a kind embrace, never silent, always whispering its secrets to those willing to listen. Warm in the winter, fresh in summer, it was gentle and accepted everyone without judging them.

Fidelis wished that hadn't been the case today.

The stones around him knew him well and joyfully told him he wasn't alone down there. Out on the edge of his perception, others moved and dug. Claws scratching dirt, pushing it aside.

The Cult had brought everything to trap them. The skies were sealed with flocks, the forests were filled with herds, and down below the earth...

Fidelis sat down, crossed his arms, and dug into himself. Simply pushing forward wouldn't do. He didn't know for sure how many of them there were, just that they were more than he could handle. Which was barely one, if he had to be honest.

He tried to listen as far as possible. There was a lot going on beneath the surface. There always was. Fidelis, for once, didn't care for moles and insects, for roots and worms, or for the chattering of pebbles. Slowly the sound of digging became clearer. Three, no, four of them, fast and determined, clean trajectories, breaking through stone, leaving behind tunnels that wouldn't last.

Soldiers.

He couldn't take on even one of them.

Maybe he didn’t have to.

He looked at it with other eyes. The eyes of a mason. No, ponies hadn't the right word for it, the tongue of his ancestors had to do. He had to look at it with the eyes of an architect.

There it was, the cage they were carving. A solid one, well thought out. Except for a weakness.

Fidelis pondered. It would make for a nice, if slightly long, escape route. Coasting along some of the giants of the depth, all unbreakable granite and tectonic dreams. It made sense for them not to be able to secure that.

Too much sense. Too obvious.

If he could allow himself to do so, Fidelis would have chuckled. It smelled like a trap, all sweet and enticing.

He kept looking. He was a teacher, they were eager apprentices that were showing him a project. He knew there was some issue they hadn't seen, there always was. He had to see it, point it out, show them their error.

Right there.

It was subtle, tortuous, had to think around corners to see it, and if you didn't know the land you missed it.

Fidelis grinned. Time to show what a builder could do.





The tears in Celestia's coat still hadn't dried. Huddled in her forelegs, Radish's crying had become a silent sobbing.

He was a brave and very good little colt. He was doing everything he could. Celestia was very proud of him and nuzzled the top of his head.

She was a bit less proud of herself.

The sounds from outside had stopped, and now an oppressive silence filled the cellar. The total darkness and the still air seemed to be waiting for something. Time had lost its meaning, its flow stopping and collecting in a dirty pool. Pretty soon there would be scum and things would crawl under its surface and bite if one put their hoof in there. And then a fetid miasma, thick and self-satisfied, basking its own rotten origin, would creep all around it and claim whatever it could touch.

Celestia's mind was wandering. She couldn't afford that.

Her eyes had gotten used to the darkness, and the faint glow from the hole in the wall was enough for her to distinguish shapes. She blinked. No, not really shapes, more the hints of them. Edges for Chryssi, soft waves for Lulu. The pressure against her chest of Radish. She had to think of them. For once Celestia couldn't afford to get distracted or lost in her own, stupid fantasies.

What could she do, though?

If only they had let her stay up there to fight. She would have helped, done something. She knew some tricks, and she knew how to fight dirty. Some tripping here, a blinding flash there, keeping them guessing and off-balance. A kick in the side when there was the right opening and one would crumble from pain, exactly like Ginevra had shown her. And maybe if Chryssi and Lulu were with her they would have been even more useful. Lulu was small, but she packed quite the buck. And Chryssi ... well, under her direction there was no real limit to what they could do.

Celestia closed her eyes and kept the tears back. She was on her flights of fancy. Again.

What was she thinking? Fighting trained warriors? Being right in the middle of it and bothering her family when they needed exactly the opposite? This was no story, this was no adventure, this was life. Unfair, messy life. And she was useless. Useless. A spoiled, weak, and useless filly, too weak to work the earth, too stupid to fight for her loved ones.

She felt Chryssi shift and tighten her embrace.

Right, feeling bad for herself meant she made Chryssi feel bad too. Another neat failure to add to her tally, it appeared.

No, that didn't help.

Huddled in the dark while her world fell apart, was getting lost in her imagination truly the best she could do?

A low rumble, like stone scratching on stone, echoed through the floor. It seemed to come from far away, but Celestia couldn't be sure about that. Reading the stone had always eluded her, no matter how much Fidelis had tried to teach her. Another of her failings, apparently.

The world outside was moving and ripping everything she had to shreds. And Celestia did the only thing she could. She faked confidence for her sisters, waited, and dove into her flights of fancy. At least there she could achieve something.





The bronze maul came down and shattered the floor. Cobblestone splintered and came loose, shards shooting out and forcing the ponies to jump backwards.

Copper Horn didn't wait and charged forward, her free hand grabbing at a lightly-armored stallion who hadn't been fast enough. Her fingers closed on his head, muffling a surprised shout. He was big and his muscles told of a life dedicated to fighting. It didn't make any difference as Copper Horn hefted him up and threw him into the gaggle of ponies retreating from her previous attack, sending them all crashing into a wooden cabinet amidst the sound of shattering earthware.

No time to admire her handiwork. She pulled the maul up. The smell of blood and sand reached her nostrils, the screams and shouts of the crazed audience filled her ears. She felt the heat of the midday sun on her back as it tried to burn out the arena, as it wanted nothing more than cauterize the horrid tumor defacing the earth.

Something in her soul stirred. Her vision cleared. There was no sand here, no arena. No blood either, she had been careful. She had sworn it. She wouldn't betray that.

She aimed carefully. Her maul traced a trajectory as obvious as possible, calling out where it would fall to anybody with eyes to look. Another section of the floor had to feel it. Another pony who had tried to sneak up on her had to change their plans and retreat. It put them right into the path of a wooden stool. The impact knocked them right out. They would wake up with a massive headache, and probably with a couple of teeth missing, but they would wake up.

For a moment the only sound in the kitchen was the groaning of those still awake.

Copper Horn pulled the maul and leaned on it as she surveyed the room. Shattered furniture, broken bowls, bashed-in pots. Only the solid oak table had remained whole, if not completely unscathed.

Looking at the devastation made Copper Horn's heart ache and her anger rise. No, she couldn't allow that, not now. It was the time neither for fury nor for remembrance, that would come later. The kitchen would never be used again, of that she was certain, but the memories she made there would forever be with her. She looked over the ponies she had fought. Eight of them, none of whom would be a danger for at least a couple of hours. That made it roughly half of their ground forces.

There was hope. Copper Horn allowed herself a smile. They weren't out of the woods yet, but maybe, just maybe, they could make it.

The ground trembled. Copper Horn's ear swiveled.

Something was coming. Something massive.

The wall exploded and a bronze mass rushed inside just as Copper Horn jumped to the side. It crossed the kitchen and rammed the other wall.

Copper Horn landed and held her maul up with both hands. Cold sweat ran down her front. And as the thing pulled itself out from the crater it had made in the wall, fear and exhilaration in equal measure began to grow in her chest.

It had the approximate shape of a pony, although bigger than any Copper Horn had ever seen. Bronze plates as thick as her finger slid one over the other as it moved. Not an inch of the coat below could be seen. And as it finished turning towards Copper Horn, the only hints of something living beneath all the metal were two brown eyes peeking out from deep in the helmet.

Even if Copper Horn had never seen such a thing before, she knew what stood in front of her. "A donkey Cataphract? Shouldn't you be brawling with yaks? What are you doing here?"

The thing lowered its head.

Time seemed to slow down and Copper Horn's heart sounded like a hammer on an anvil. Their hopes of making it through had just been trampled. Yet she couldn't allow herself to despair. No, she had to do whatever was possible.

Her world shrunk down to a single problem. Years of memories and experiences became advisers.

She had to go outside. Even if that meant exposing herself to the fliers, remaining in the kitchen would make dodging almost impossible, and even if she could, the building would come down on them soon. The metal of the handle in her hands felt warm. At least she wouldn't have to be careful with her weapon.

She took a step to the side, closing in on the door.

The thing snorted and charged.





The chamber was safe. It kept them hidden. It kept the things outside from seeing them. It was darkness for the eyes and for the horns.

Chryssi tasted every bitter, nauseating drop of rage and pain and despair and fear coming from the rest of the farm anyway.

And yet she would put up with not getting anything else for the rest of her life if it meant her sisters and Radish wouldn't feel the same. What came from inside the room was worse. So much worse. She didn't just taste it. She felt it. It hurt.

Time passed, darkness didn't comfort them, and the ebbs and flows of something horrible built up.

And then it was over. The triumph she tasted did not belong to those she cared about. They had lost. They...

Chryssi closed her eyes, it didn't make a difference.

She knew they would find them. She knew they would separate them. She knew it was over.

For the first time, she felt helpless. There was nothing she could do.

Yes, there is something.

The thing that spoke without words had been silent for years, and now the words crawled through her guts and her shell.

It's time to wake up.

It was hard and sharp and burrowed into her skull and it scared her.

The dream is over.

Chryssi hugged Radish and shivered. It was so big, so deep, towering over her.

We will not allow them to hurt us.

Tia, Lulu, and Radish all tasted differently. All were terrified. The world was coming to get them. Everything was crumbling, everything was hurting, everything—

We hunger.

Something broke inside Chryssi, and suddenly she wasn't scared anymore. Fear didn't make sense. Not for her. Not for it.

She stood up, and as she spoke it was with a chittering choir of voices. "Stay here. it will be over soon."

And in the old cistern outside, for the first time in many, many years, it opened its eyes.