Twilight landed with an explosion of light and sound. She was barely even conscious of the drop through the air, to land roughly on ground charred by the magic of their passing. Her ears rang and bright white splotches were all she could see. Even so she clutched at her necklace with one hoof, desperate for the touch of something familiar.
Yes, the power of her spells was still here. Just as a world close enough for Flurry to survive would probably have life that was similar to theirs, it would also need the rules of magic to be similar.
The terrifying possibility that she would find herself without her magic and lose her soul faded, and she slowly caught her breath.
This is why we’re sending probes. Ponies shouldn’t be taking risks like this. We aren’t helping Flurry if dozens of creatures have to die to bring her back.
As the world came back into focus, Twilight could see the damage from the probe’s trip. A sphere had been charred through dense foliage, about ten feet in all directions. The search spell tried to find open ground, but apparently the trailing branches of the willow-like trees weren’t thick enough to register.
The ground was black, but at least there weren’t any disfigured skeletons, or tiny civilizations crushed under their hooves. With an infinite number of worlds, there was an infinite number of ways Twilight could do harm.
Cadance had dropped her spear in transit, but she levitated it up now, leaning against the metal shaft rather than threatening with it. “You didn’t say the trip would be so… difficult.”
Twilight raised an eyebrow. “We crossed out of one universe and into another one. I didn’t think I had to explain.”
Twilight walked slowly towards the edge of their bubble, charred dirt warm under hooves. She kept her breathing slow, though the cold of her necklace against her coat suggested none of its defensive spells were in effect.
So either she was right about there being no poisons on this side, or her magic just wasn’t sensitive enough to detect the danger.
Humid air pressed her coat against her skin, and made each breath come heavily. Still, the sky was bright blue overhead, and the dense forest around them seemed like it might’ve fit in perfectly in the White Tail Woods without any difficulty.
Maybe this is the White Tail Woods, in a world where no ponies cleared it to build Ponyville. Twilight levitated her saddlebags to the ground in front of her, removing a heavy wooden box. As she flicked it open, half a dozen little trays opened with it, each one holding a different tool or pile of prepared raw ingredients.
Twilight took a set of tweezers, and carefully plucked a single leaf from beyond the reach of her burned bubble. She was careful never to contaminate it with Equestrian magic, or else spoil her readings with a false positive. There was no reason to get their hopes up for nothing.
“How close is Flurry?” Cadance asked, suddenly inches from Twilight’s face. She jerked, dropping her sample to the ground and contaminating her sterile tweezers.
She groaned, then unwrapped a fresh pair. “We don’t even know if this is the correct universe, Cadance. How about you, uh… protect me, while I do the examination. It will take a few minutes of concentration to get it right.”
Cadance snapped to attention, though her form wasn’t half as good as an actual guard. “You got it, Twilight! I’ll guard you while you lead us to my daughter.”
That isn’t what we’re doing. She didn’t bother correcting her, just went to work on the new sample. She ground away at a leaf, extracting its essence and dissolving it in a thin tube and dropping a little crystal shard inside.
I probably should’ve planned on this mission taking thirty seconds. We should’ve just taken samples back to my lab like the probes do.
“Stop right there!” Cadance shouted, her voice echoing through the trees. “I see you! Come out, or we’ll defend ourselves!”
It doesn’t really seem like self-defense if we’re the ones threatening other creatures.
Twilight looked up from the sample, following Cadance’s gaze to where something was moving in the trees. At least the crystal princess hadn’t gone insane with paranoia, yet.
Something with light blue feathers and skin, watching from above.
Then it landed abruptly, touching down on the edge of their protected bubble.
It didn’t remotely resemble a pony, or anything close to one. The general shape was vertical like a minotaur, though it was completely furless. It had wings instead of forelegs, and birdlike claws like a griffon. Its eyes were smaller though, and it didn’t have a beak.
Those claws might be dangerous, but not much more than a griffon or hippogriff.
The feathers around its head suggested hair, and its bare chest made her guess it might be female, though it was hard to say.
Then it spoke, and somehow Twilight could understand what it said. “Outworlders. Why do you flock so low? Are you seeking a debt to be paid, or… collectors?”
She fumbled with her mouth in a little sack of something that looked terrifyingly like leather, then drew out a few metal disks. Not bits, but the same gold composing them. “No debt of mine.”
“We’re looking for my daughter,” Cadance called, before Twilight could even form words. No friendly greeting, no explanation of where they’d come from or telling that they were just peaceful explorers.
But Cadance probably isn’t peaceful. If she thinks this bird-thing will stop us from getting Flurry back, she’ll be violent.
“She looks like me, but smaller. Wings, horn, four hooves. Have you seen her?”
“Probably not, Cadance,” Twilight whispered. “We’re a thousand miles away from where she crossed.”
“Outworlders can talk! Good, good. Not sure what anyone would do with livestock on four legs. Better that you’re visitors, and not animals.”
The glow around Cadance’s spear grew brighter. She didn’t swing it at this bird, or point it in her direction. Instead she ground the shaft into the dirt, hard enough that the metal squeaked in protest.
“Answer my question. Have you seen another like us?”
Twilight glanced back to her test. It was nearly finished now, the water boiled away to a paste left in the tube. It shifted through a myriad of different colors as the crystal tried to match.
“This one never has. Walking on the ground, talking, wearing strange clothes of metal. No. Never seen you.”
This time Twilight was ready, cutting Cadance off before she could ask something else the stranger wouldn’t know how to answer. “You called us ‘Outworlders’. Do travelers come to your world often?”
The bird might have a furless face, but Twilight had more experience than most with that. She knew excitement when she saw it. “Not enough, not enough!” She spread her wings as she spoke, lifting a foot or so before landing closer to them. “Just stories of travelers from far away, so far no one could ever fly there. Stories of wonderful things you bring to trade. This one would like to trade.”
She bent down, picking up the metal disk with her claw and tossing it to the ground in front of Twilight. “What do you have worth gold? Something good? Something to tell stories about?”
“We aren’t here to trade,” Cadance declared, kicking the coin back towards their visitor. It slid along the ground, bumping into her claw. “We want to find the creature like me. One of us got lost here, a baby. If you tell us, we’ll reward you with far more than gold. If you don’t, we’ll be very upset.”
The tube finally stopped glowing, its contents returning to dirty brown. This isn’t the place.
“Creature like you? Yes, uh… right! I remember creature like you, now that you ask. This one knows. Far away! Long flight! You should… give this one something to trade. She can lead you! Outworlders share stories along the way!”
Twilight rested a wing on Cadance’s shoulder, whispering into her ear. “She’s lying, Cadance. My spell is finished, this is the wrong world.” Even as she said it, she could see little sign of comprehension from Cadance. She could hear just fine, but she didn’t want to hear.
“We need to prepare an expedition,” she said. “This creature knows where to go. Or… even better. We can bring her back with us, then travel to Flurry’s Vigil in Equestria and return to this world. She’ll be close to where she arrived, right?”
She gestured with the spear, no longer using the pointy end. “You would do that, right bird? Come with us, then lead us when we cross back into your world?”
The alien spread her wings in alarm, backing out of reach. “With? No, no! Never go with Outworlders! All the stories… never.” She tossed her coin back up into her bag, buttoning it shut. “You trade treasures, I lead you to the one you lost! No crossing or magic for this one!”
Twilight snapped her box shut, settling her saddlebags in place. The recall spell should bring both of them, but she wanted to be close to Cadance just in case. “Thank you for being so friendly with us,” she said, resting one leg on Cadance’s shoulder. That should be all the contact her magic would require.
The ten minutes weren’t up, but she didn’t need them to be. Twilight pressed down on the center of the necklace’s little recall disk, and magic exploded around them.
Their visitor took to the air in a flurry of feathers, swearing and shouting in fear. Twilight covered her eyes, but she was still blinded and deafened in the crossing.
She recovered in seconds this time, as they were dumped back onto the familiar floor of her lab.
So did Cadance, whirling furiously on her. “You took us away from Flurry!” Her eyes flashed, but her spear was gone. She scanned the room in surprise, but her eyes never found it. Apparently the spell had missed something.
At least we weren’t crushed into a bloody pulp like that drone was. “Princess, that was the wrong world.” She ignored Cadance’s anger, ignored the technicians rushing to tend to the portal machinery. They would have dozens of questions, but all that could wait.
She opened up her equipment, levitating the tube closer to Cadance. “This would be pink if we had the right place. Look, Princess Cadance. It’s not.”
Cadance’s anger evaporated in an instant. She snatched the vial, holding it up to the light. But no amount of examination would turn it from brown to pink. “She said—”
“She told us she hadn’t seen another pony,” Twilight interrupted. “Then you told her we were going to bribe her, and she told you what she thought you wanted to hear. I’d be furious, but… considering we could’ve found a dozen evil Alicorns waiting to kill us, I’ll take an opportunistic bird.”
She levitated the heavy box of equipment over to a laboratory table, then looked to Spike. “Make a note. Exploratory incursion 001 was a failure. Mark the portal configuration as inhabited and likely safe. Everypony else, we’ll return to normal operations as soon as we get our next probe.”
Cadance remained entirely still as the technicians and lab assistants went to work cleaning things up. She ignored them as they took each piece of armor from her to sterilize, or when they sprayed her with foam to kill anything they’d brought along by accident.
“Mommy’s coming,” she whispered. “Mommy’s coming.”