Cirta
Twilight spread the map out across the ground. “So, this town, Cirta,” she said, pointing with her hoof to the little picture of the walled town on the map. “That’s our next stop?”
Zecora nodded. “Cirta we will reach tomorrow, where all that we need we may borrow.”
“Borrow?” Rainbow repeated sceptically. “You mean buy, right?”
Zecora shrugged apologetically. “Rainbow Dash, I offer you my apology; finding a rhyme is not always easy.”
Rainbow grinned. “Don’t sweat it, just so long as we all understand what you’re really trying to say.”
They were all gathered around the map. They had travelled some way into zebra territory by this point, or at least some way into the territory of the Imperial Zebras, the land known as Grevyia.
The zebra lands were divided into two parts: the domain of the Imperial Zebras, known as Grevyia, which extended southwards towards the mountains and westwards towards the lands of the dragons; and the dominion of the plains zebras, known as Quaggai, smaller but a little more prosperous and more advanced as well, a land that was closer to Equestrian terms of its level of technology, although of course they had no pegasus command of the weather to make their lives easier.
All the same, it was a little unfortunate that it was Grevyia, and not Quaggai, that directly bordered onto Equestria itself, because Twilight had the distinct impression that they would have rather traversed through Quaggai than through the Grevyian Empire. They had travelled through lands that were dusty and barren, the earth cracked and dying under the heat of the sun, save for where a river cut through the earth and turned the land on either side into a fertile paradise, crops springing from the ground watered by life giving river and all the nutrients it spread out onto the flood plains as it burst its banks on either side. But even that, though at first it had seemed a more welcome sight than the dead lands that lay beyond the reach of the waters, was marred by the sight of vast gangs of zebras with tattooed faces – always the same tattoos, of flames burning upon their left cheeks, and chains coiling around their necks – toiling away under the watchful eyes and swift lashes of overseers. Twilight had suspected that those labouring zebras were slaves even before Zecora had confirmed for her – for all of them – just what those tattoos meant. Sometimes the flames tattooed upon their faces were blue, sometimes red, sometimes yellow, sometimes green, and the exact design of the fire itself varied from place to place, signifying to which Mighty One these slaves belonged; but they were all slaves.
It had been sickening to have to watch. Even more sickening to walk on by and leave them to their wretched fate.
Twilight had not come to the zebra lands to change the world, she had not come to set Imperial Grevyia to rights but all the same… to walk on by, to turn the other cheek against injustice, to… it made her feel dirty, unclean, immoral in her own right, tainted by the evil that she had witnessed and done nothing to stop.
She had thought only of her own problems, of her own desires, and yet now she had come to this place and found so many so much more in need… and yet she could not help them.
She had neither the right nor, indeed, the power to overthrow the structures of the world, to challenge the enigmatic Mighty Ones who ruled over Grevyia with a will of iron for all that they were unseen. Perhaps Princess Celestia had such power, perhaps Princess Celestia could have stopped it if she wished, but to do so even the princess would have had to become a tyrant as great as any Grevyian lord, to impose her will upon others by naked force.
As they impose their will upon their slaves. If they do evil surely they deserve to receive evil in return? Or perhaps not. Those who did evil were yet people for all that they were, well, possibly evil people, or the products of an evil system at least. And being that they were yet people, it would be as wicked to grind their faces into the dirt as it was for them to do the same to others. It was a comforting notion, to declare that your power, your ability to do a thing gave you the right to do it and thus you would use the vast power at your command to order all things as you would, for the greater good and the benefit of all. And perhaps that was how it would start, but over time the temptation to use your power to benefit not all but only you would grow greater and greater. No doubt that was how the Mighty Ones of Grevyia had begun, with good intentions that had led them step by step down a slippery slope to absolute evil. That was why Celestia used her power but sparingly, preferring to use influence instead: to keep that temptation at bay for as long as she could. Twilight had to remember to do the same; not least because her power was little enough. But one day she would have influence, and she would use it as Celestia did: to improve the lot of the less fortunate while doing no harm in the process, however long it might cause that process to take.
But, however she could justify inaction to herself, Twilight could not deny that it had made the journey southwards uncomfortable for all of them. At times it had looked as if Pinkie was going to be made ill by the depravity all around her, and Fluttershy too. Only the presence of the beasts of the river, when they came to a patch of same that was not under cultivation, had calmed her; hippos and crocodiles alike had been as charmed by Twilight’s animal-loving friend as were bears and goats and popinjays back home, and she had been renewed by their companionship during those moments when they could afford to stop and rest.
Twilight was glad that they would soon be leaving – if they had not already left – the heartland of Grevyian power. She had narrowed the location of the Heart of the World to the borderlands between the two zebra nations, and thus a place that was in dispute between the two of them. That brought with it its own attendant risks, but at least it meant they wouldn’t come across any more signs of Grevyian moral depravity; signs that they would have to turn away from and try to forget.
“Will they take our bits?” Fluttershy asked, for they had run into a little trouble with that in some parts of the country; not so much trouble that they had ever been completely unable to buy what they needed, but they had sometimes been able to purchase what they wanted.
“Cirta is a border town, and gold is gold,” Zecora said. “Here all precious metal coin is good, be it foreign or ever so old.”
“Do you know it?” Twilight said. “Personally, I mean.”
Zecora was silent for a moment. “I used to come here as a child,” she replied. “It was the closest market-place, though sometimes it got wild.”
“Wild? Border town?” Ace repeated. “I’ve got to say that I don’t like the sound of this. Is it safe, or are we talking about some kind of violent watering hole full of thugs and bandits?”
Zecora chuckled. “Thugs and bandits, pony guard? No, Cirta is not so untoward. This is still a Grevyian town, wherein a Mighty One does dwell; all know that to avoid his wrath they must be sure to behave well. But, this is no pony town so happy and tolerant; zebras of this land can be touchy, so best not start an argument.”
“We won’t,” Twilight assured her. “If you don’t mind me asking, Zecora, who are these Mighty Ones of Grevyia? We’ve heard a lot about them since we came here, but we’ve never seen one.”
“And never will, or so I pray, for woe betide that encounter they say,” Zecora said. “They are not seen by zebra eye, and no desire to meet them have I; within these bounds they rule all things, and to draw their notice great trouble brings.”
“I don’t know about anypony else but I’m not sure that makes much sense,” Applejack declared. “If they never show themselves then how do you know they’re even real?”
“If they’re not real then who’s giving the orders?” Spike asked.
“Whoever comes out and tells everyone else that the Mighty Ones told him to give the orders,” Applejack replied, as though the answer was obvious.
Twilight’s eyebrows rose. “That’s… unusually devious, for you.”
“Hey, just because I prefer to be honest with folks don’t mean that I can’t tell when somepony is selling me a bill of goods,” Applejack said. “Imagine if Princess Celestia never came out and showed herself, and we were all just expected to believe that she was in there, raising the sun each day.”
Twilight pondered that, and found that her imagination revolted against it. It was too far removed from the Princess Celestia that she knew, and her conception of her old teacher. “I can’t do it,” she confessed.
“Exactly,” Applejack said. “That’s what I’m talking about. Zecora, back me up here, someone must have had this same idea before me.”
Zecora’s expression was a trifle grim. “I would be careful what you say, those who deny the Mighty Ones often go… away.”
Twilight swallowed. “By away… you mean-“
“In Grevyia these things are taken very seriously,” Zecora explained. “Best not to try and spread seditious heresy.”
Applejack licked her lips. “I’m not sure that proves me wrong, but I take your point about it all the same.”
“This is a great part of the world we came to, isn’t it?” Rainbow asked.
“It will get easier,” Twilight promised. I hope so, anyway. “Is there anything else that you can tell us about Cirta before we head in there tomorrow morning?”
Zecora paused, seeming to be lost in thought. “Be calm, be quiet, and say few words,” she advised. “To avoid drawing the attention of the Grevyian lords.”
“I repeat,” Rainbow said. “Great place we’ve come to.”
Twilight cringed. “I’m sorry, everypony – everyone. But we’ll be out of Grevyia soon, and… I’m sorry. I won’t forget this, for as long as I live.”
“I’m not complaining,” Rainbow said. She paused. “Okay, I’m not trying not to complain. But this does kind of prove my point: you wouldn’t have made it this far without us.”
“I would have managed!” Twilight replied hotly, before she recognised what Rainbow Dash was doing and her anger died down, leaving only a fond smile behind her on her face. “Thanks,” she said.
“Any time,” Rainbow replied.
The town of Cirta was surrounded by a wall of yellow stone, worn and cracked in some places, the other layer falling away to expose the brick beneath. There were no gates, just a gap in the wall flanked by a pair of statues of creatures that Twilight didn’t recognise, horned and winged beings with four legs each ending in a clawed paw, similar in some respects to other creatures – the wings of a dragon, the horns of a minotaur – but in the round unlike anything else. The river whose path they had followed at times upon the way passed by the town, broadening out on the west side of the town to become a lagoon, strengthening the wall on that side by its mere presence. Between lake and wall a ramshackle dockyard had sprung up, with wooden wharfs jutting out into the water, and boats with single sails or none at all moored there. Irrigated ditches had been dug out from the river and lagoon, to water the otherwise dust-dry land around, and amidst those ditches crops had sprung, tended to by a small army of poor, pitiable slaves under the watchful eyes of their overseers.
A dirt track led into the town, and only in the town itself did it become a true paved thoroughfare as it expanded out to criss-cross across the houses and the inns of Cirta. Most of the buildings were low and small, invisible behind the outer wall that offered its dubious protection to the town, but one building rose high above the rest: the lordly seat, set high upon a hill, with a great dome rising up towards the sky as if it was trying to obstruct the clouds.
It was also the only building in town that looked as if it had been designed with any eye for aesthetics rather the mere functionality, with the columns that surrounded the high dome, the spire set atop it, the steps built into the hill. Everything else here, and no offence to those who lived in Cirta, seemed so drab by comparison, so square and blocky, so utilitarian. Not that there was anything particularly wrong with utilitarian, Twilight supposed, but she couldn’t help but think that there was nothing wrong with the idea of a pretty or attractive looking home either.
The group walked towards the archway leading into town, as were groups of zebras, carters pulling wagons of their goods, and a masked zebra being born upon a litter upon the backs of four slaves, for whom all other travellers made way. This was a functionary of the empire, a servant of the Mighty Ones; such highly placed and high-born zebras wore ornate painted masks as a sign of their status, the more ornate the better; the mask of this zebra was rather plain, with only a jagged line separating red from teal, but he still wore a mask and still travelled in a litter and still had a little foal running beside said litter fanning him with a palm leaf in case the sun got too hot for him as he sat serene amidst his silk-curtained palanquin adorned with ropes of pearls. All of that marked him out as a figure of import, and the zebra travellers stopped and bowed, and the carters removed their wagons from his path, and as he was borne past them, without paying them any visible mind, the bowing zebras murmured to him, ‘bless us, lord. Look down with kindness on us’.
He did not look, nor bestow any kindness. He simply carried on, literally considering the manner in which he was conveyed, ignoring all the world around him as though he were the only real thing in it.
Twilight and the others bowed, too. Only Zecora did not. She wore a mask, one of those that she had brought from her home; Twilight didn’t know if she had it because she had been one of these zebras once, or if she had taken it from one in some story that she had not told to Twilight, but she wore the mask and she did not bow, as she had not bowed many times along their travels here. She wore the mask to take the ponies – and Spike – under her protection, and make them feel less like outsiders in this place.
Not that they didn’t stand out as outsiders. As the lord – or lord’s servant – in his litter was carried away, Twilight and the others were able to go into town as movement resumed. As she passed between the statues that she could not – and it was really going to bug her that she couldn’t – identify, Twilight felt a chill run down her as though a spell had just been cast over her; but it passed after a moment and she couldn’t feel anything otherwise amiss, so she ignored it and continued on, following in Zecora’s lead. The gazes of the zebras followed them, and their whispers too. They were objects of curiosity as they moved down the paved but dusty streets, and not just curiosity; not all of the gazes that followed them were devoid of hostility.
Nevertheless, they were not challenge as they entered the bazaar that lay close by the entrance into town. Smells sweet and succulent drifted from the open air market stalls, where spices and fruits sat on the wooden surfaces alongside fine glassware, drinks in fine glassware, delectable looking sweets and rather disgusting looking things that Twilight couldn’t believe that anyone would want to eat but which the Grevyian zebras apparently considered a delicacy.
“We should look for…” Twilight paused, feeling a little lightheaded. “We should.” She swayed on her feet as the world trembled around her.
“You okay, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.
“You certainly don’t look it, darling,” Rarity agreed. “What in Equestria is the matter?”
“I… I feel a little…” Twilight murmured, finding it harder and harder to form her words. “I mean I…” she felt so tired. Why did she feel so tired all of a sudden? Why was it such a struggle to form her words? Why did she feel like she could hardly keep her eyes open? She just wanted to… she just wanted…
In her woozy, weary, exhausted – even though she had no reason to be exhausted – state, Twilight barely noticed the armed zebras – wearing white masks, she noticed, even if she didn’t, or couldn’t, understand what it meant - suddenly surrounding them.
“These are the ponies we have been warned about,” their leader barked. “Take these villains. Take them all!”
Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes. It was still pretty dark in here, wherever ‘here’ was. She could barely see a single thing. She blinked, feeling something chink as she tried to get up. A chain. She was chained up, manacled by the legs! And she could feel something around her neck, something that felt kind of like a collar.
“Twilight! Twilight’s awake!” Pinkie cried.
“Is that you, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. “I can barely see a single darn thing down here.”
“Yes,” Twilight said softly. “Yes, it’s me.” She peered into the darkness, seeing very little. “Is everyone here? Girls? Spike?”
“I’m here,” Pinkie said, and Twilight felt someone nuzzling against her side, rubbing themselves against her, and as her eyes became a little more accustomed to the gloom Twilight could make out the silhouette of Pinkie Pie, her voluminous hair cresting the top of her head, close beside her. There was a rattle of chains as she moved.
“We’re glad you’re awake,” Fluttershy’s voice called out of the gloom. “We were so worried when you just collapsed in the market like that.”
“If I hadn’t been so distracted by worrying about you I could totally have taken all those zebras,” Rainbow Dash said, her voice also issuing out of the dark. “As it was, I only took about half of them before they got me.”
“Considering I took down half of them it’s a wonder we got captured at all,” Ace said. She paused. “But seriously, little Miss Applejack is the one who really deserves the praise. I’ve never seen anything quite like the fight that you put up.”
“Didn’t do us too much good in the end, did it now?” Applejack asked.
“Even so,” Ace replied. “We could use a pony like you in the royal guard.”
“Maybe you could, but you ain’t getting this pony,” Applejack said. “I’ll fight when I have to, to keep my friends and family safe, but I ain’t the kind of gal to go around lookin’ for trouble when it ain’t lookin’ for me. I got my farm and my family to be concerned with.”
“Right now I would suggest that we all have other things to be concerned with than our future career plans,” Rarity suggested dryly.
“Rarity,” Twilight said, relief in her voice. “You’re here too?”
“Yes, darling,” Rarity said. “We are all in the same sinking ship at present. Well, almost all of us.”
Twilight felt a chill run down her spine at that ‘almost’. “Spike? Zecora?”
“I have joined you here in jail,” Zecora said. “Trapped without a hope of bail.”
Then that must mean- “Spike? Spike, can you hear me? Spike, where are you?”
“He ain’t here, sugarcube,” Applejack said softly. “They took him some place else.”
“We tried to stop them, darling,” Rarity added. “Really we did, but they… well, they wouldn’t take no for an answer.” There was a sound of rattling chains, and Rarity winced in pain.
“Rarity?” Twilight asked. “Are you okay?”
“I was rather insistent upon them not taking Spikey-wikey away,” Rarity murmured. “And they were equally insistent about taking him. Their insistence included clubs.”
Twilight winced. “Oh, Rarity, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, girls. Do you know where they took him? Do you know where we are? Sorry, I’ve been… out of it.”
“It’s okay,” Rainbow said. “They did something to all of us. When I tried to fly my wings felt as heavy as lead.”
“Otherwise we could have flown away and waited for a chance at a rescue later,” Ace added.
“And while I didn’t pass out, my magic was rather ineffectual in the crisis.” Rarity said. “The only ones who weren’t affected in some way were Applejack, Pinkie and poor Spike.”
“To answer your original question,” Applejack said. “We’re in some kind of dungeon.”
“Quite a deep one, too, it seems,” Fluttershy whispered.
Twilight looked up. The only light source was coming from high above, where some of kind of lamplight was dimly shining through the thick wooden bars that formed the door into their cell. It seemed that there was a long drop between the door and the cell itself. “Where we… thrown down here?”
“Yeah,” Ace said. “It was super fun. I’m amazed you could stay asleep for that to be honest.”
“Kind of impressed, though,” Rainbow said. “You’ll have to teach me how you did that.”
“Rainbow Dash!” Applejack snapped.
“What?” Rainbow replied. “Sometimes I’d like to be able to sleep that soundly.”
“But then how would I be able to get you up for Wake-Your-Friends-Up Day?” Pinkie asked.
“Wake your what up day?”
“You’ll find out eventually,” Pinkie said, with a glee that was almost inappropriate in the circumstances.
Twilight grunted, and felt her chains rattle as she shifted in place. “I take it everybody is chained up.”
“Unfortunately, darling, yes,” Rarity said. “Though I think Applejack has it the worst of all of us.”
“They could me hog-tied tighter than a… well, tighter than a wild hog,” Applejack declared, and Twilight heard from out of the dark the clanking of many chains as she imagined Applejack straining against her bonds in the darkness.
“Zecora,” Twilight said. “What’s going on? Why have we been arrested like this when we haven’t done anything? And what do they want with Spike?”
“If I knew the reason we were bound, I never would have brought you to this town,” Zecora said. “Zebras can be an insular folk, and not always with outsiders wish to talk; but I have never known in either nation, for outsiders to be jailed without provocation.”
“Well, perhaps someone might have told the ruling lord of this area that you had come here bent upon robbing him of all his treasure,” the voice of Raven echoed down into the pit as the cloaked and hooded pony herself appeared at the wooden doorway high above, looking down upon them. “That might vex the Mighty One sufficiently to command his forces to be on the lookout for you, and to take you into custody as soon as you were spotted.”
Pinkie gasped. “Raven.”
Raven sighed, or seemed to at least. “Hello again, Pinkie Pie. You probably won’t believe me but I’m very glad to see you well.”
“Don’t talk to her!” Rainbow snarled. “You don’t have the right, you little… if I wasn’t chained up down here-“
“Oh, yes, I’m sure you’d fly up and kick my flank with the greatest of ease,” Raven declared sarcastically. “A part of me would like to see you try. Another part of me is genuinely concerned that you might do it. Overall, though, I think you need a little more training before you’re ready to take me on.”
Rainbow snorted. “Tough talk from the pony who’s only thrown some goo in Pinkie’s face.”
“Tough talk from the pony who has never been in a real fight,” Raven replied. “Not that you’ve won, anyway.”
“You did this?” Twilight demanded. “Why?”
“Because I offered you the chance to turn away and you refused me,” Raven replied. “I won’t allow you to reach the Heart of the World. I’ll do whatever it takes to stop you.”
“Why?”
“The fact that you have to ask me that question is proof that you’re not ready,” Raven said.
“Are you the reason I got knocked unconscious?” Twilight asked. “Did you do something to Rainbow’s wings, and Rarity’s magic?”
Raven chuckled. “I may have found an artefact capable of suppressing the magic of unicorns and pegasi, although earth ponies remain immune to its effects. Nevertheless, despite that rather large oversight, I thought it would be a useful thing to have if I wanted to stop you. Oh, don’t scowl at me like that,” she added, taking note of the expression on Twilight’s face. “You’re not going to die down here. Princess Celestia will cough up a ransom for you and then you’ll be shipped off home to Ponyville where you can forget all about the Heart of the World and Lightning Dawn and all the rest.”
“And Spike?” Twilight demanded. “What about him?”
“I’m sure that Celestia will ransom him as well,” Raven said. “Whether he’ll want to go home or not is another matter altogether.”
“What in Equestria do you mean, you brute?” Rarity demanded. “Why wouldn’t Spike want to come home with us?”
“Because he’s about to come face to face with the Mighty Ones,” Raven said. “Spikey-Wikey is about to learn the secret at the heart of Imperial Grevyia; and once he’s learned it I’m not sure that he’ll want to go back to the cramped little tree he calls ‘home’ ever again.”
Spike opened his eyes to find himself in darkness.
Where was he? What had happened to him? How did he get here? He remembered… "Twilight!" Spike cried, because the last thing that he remembered was that Twilight had gotten all woozy, and then as the zebra guy with the mask had ordered his guards – a lot of whom were also wearing masks, only theirs were white rather than having anything painted on them – to take them, she had just collapsed dead away like she was sick or something. Then the zebras had tried to grab them all, and Spike had fought them. He'd tried to fight them anyway; Applejack and Rainbow Dash and Ace had done the same, although there were so many zebras around that he kind of lost sight of his friends. He had tried to keep them away from Twilight, and although his claws were too little to really do much to the zebras it turned out that he was really good at taking a beating; through his scales he barely felt anything that they did to him as they tried to get him under control.
Until they hit him over the head with what he seemed to remember had been a pretty big club of some kind. He'd felt that, briefly, before he blacked out.
And now he was feeling everything else they'd done to him all over. His head ached, his tail ached, his arms and legs ached. His scales ached, which he hadn't thought was possible up until now. Did he even have nerves in his scales, weren't they all underneath? Wasn't that the point of his having scales to start with? Or perhaps he was feeling the pain underneath the scales? It felt like somebody had played the drums on him, so maybe it was the aftershocks that he was feeling?
Spike winced as he sat up, his eyes trying and failing to penetrate the gloom. "Twilight," he murmured. "Do you know where we are?"
There was no response but the faint echo of Spike's words, rebounding on him from the walls of…wherever he was.
"Twilight?" Spike called, his voice rising. The echo rose too, the word 'Twilight' striking the edges of this unknown space to fly back towards him from a score of different directions. "Rarity? Fluttershy? Anypony?"
'Rarity, Fluttershy, anypony' came the echo, his words flung back into his face as if the world – or this part of it – sought to mock him.
Where was he? And just as importantly where were they, and how could he get back to them?
He was sitting upon something cold. Cold and uncomfortable, a rough uneven surface that jabbed upwards, albeit whatever was jabbing him had round edges, like… were they coins? Spike groped in the dark, fumbling around him; the surface gave way beneath his hands, and he could feel that they were coins, coins and jewels as well by the feel of it. Was he in a vault of some kind? What was he doing in a treasure vault and why was he alone down here?
"Hello?" Spike called. "Can someone tell me what's going oaaaah!" his question turned into a plaintive cry as he tried to stand up, lost his footing on the loose uneven surface of the gold mound and ended up tumbling down what had turned out to be a hillock of gold and jewels, coinage slippering and scattering all around him as he slid down and came to a stop in what seemed, from the rough shapes that he was starting to be able to make out in the dark, to be a valley between two hills or heaps of gold.
Seriously, where am I?
"Your mewling cries disturb my rest."
The voice that issued forth out of the darkness was deep and cold, and Spike couldn't tell where it was coming from. With the way this place echoed it seemed to be coming from everywhere in here.
"Um, hello," Spike said plaintively. "Could… could you please explain to me what I'm doing here, and where here is? The last thing I remember is getting into a fight and-"
"And my guards brought you here to me, at my command," the voice replied. "The friends you called to have been confined to a dungeon cell but you, little one, you I thought might belong somewhere a little more… hospitable."
"Uh, thanks, I guess," Spike murmured. "It still doesn't really answer any of my questions, though."
The chamber was illuminated by the blue flames of the torches that suddenly began to burn all along the walls, the fire springing to life at some invisible command. Spike could not see, and since he could see he could see that he was, just as he had suspected, in a good-sized treasure chamber, a great round pit descending into the ground where heaps and hills of gold and jewels rose up in undulating mounds that rose and fell all around him. Coins of gold and silver – none of them Equestrian bits, but some of them were marked with the heads of zebras, while others bore masked faces staring out at him – made up the greatest part of the hoard, but there were also strings of pearls, statues of lions and eagles and griffons fashioned out of gold and silver and alabaster; rubies, emeralds and sparkling sapphires; gilded helms and bejewelled cuirasses; spears with gemstones adorning point and shaft.
It was a treasure trove indeed. And there was something moving underneath it, something making the gold and the jewels ripple and shuffle like waves as a shark passed between them.
The dragon rose out of the sea of gold like a lost treasure galley being raised by the magic of some powerful unicorn, breaching the trove under which it had lain concealed and rising – emerging – ever higher as gold and jewels tumbled down its crimson scales like rain trickling down a window. It was not, perhaps, the largest dragon that Spike had ever come across, but it was plenty large enough and it looked as though it could reach halfway up the deep well of riches they shared with ease. It looked old, too, with a certain cragginess about its triangular head, a crack on one of the ram-like horns sweeping back from the same, some scars and scratches upon its scales. Its eyes were amber, and gleamed in the blue firelight of the torches that lined the walls.
"Well," Spike murmured. "This, uh, this wasn't what I expected."
The dragon snorted, a little smoke rising out of his nostrils. "Hello, little cousin. I am Mantle, Lord of Cirta and Warden of the Eastmarch of the Most August and Ancient Empire of Grevyia. And you are?"
"Uh, Spike," Spike muttered. "Assistant… librarian of Ponyville?"
Mantle chuckled. "Assistant librarian?"
"Hey, if it sounds weird to you imagine what finding a dragon as the lord of some zebra town sounds like to me," Spike replied.
"A zebra town?" Mantle repeated. "Is that what you think? Are you so astonished to find me here?"
"I mean, this is supposed to be a zebra country, and the dragon lands are over that way," Spike jerked his thumb westwards. "So-"
The dragon laughed. "So you think that it is zebras who had built this land? Who have put their own kind in chains, who drain their land and people of its gold and resource? Did you imagine that the Mighty Ones of Most Ancient Grevyia, unseen and whispered of, were zebras? Truly, the ponies have raised you softly, and in ignorance of our kind."
Spike's eyes widened. "You mean… the Mighty Ones… the rulers of this empire… are dragons?"
"Every one," Mantle declared proudly. "From the Emperor himself to the lord of the meanest village, we lurk in every shadow and draw all the good things of the world into our embrace. Only a handful of servants have ever seen us and yet hundreds of thousands live and die and toil at our command."
"But… how?" Spike asked.
Mantle slowly breathed out a small jet of fire from out of his mouth. "How much do you know of your own race, Spike of Ponyville? How much did the ponies tell you?"
"I know enough," Spike muttered. "I know I didn't like my own kind very much when I spent time with them."
"Ah, so you have been amongst the brutish dragons of the west?"
"I've been amongst dragons who don't hide in pits," Spike replied.
Mantle scowled. "No, instead they merely brawl over scraps and bones amidst the desert dust. What does the dragonlord rule over but a dying land, the domain of unwashed primitives dwelling in their own filth like common lizards? I am descended from a different sort, and so are all the Mighty Ones who rule over the Most Ancient Empire. It was dragons, in ages long ago, who destroyed the First Empire of the zebra-kind. With fire we swept over all the lands of the south, scorching armies and burning cities to the ground; no power could stand in our way, gold and jewels fell into the claws of my sires like rain. Here," he added, as with a swish of his tail he scattered a few coins in Spike's direction. "There is still some treasure left from that time long-ago: coins from the First Empire. When the fighting was done and the spoils were won some dragons, the foolish ones, returned to their own lands to enjoy the hoards that they had won. Our ancestors were wiser, and more cunning. Having destroyed the zebra nation they transformed themselves from conquerors… to rulers. Under their governance they built a new empire, a world in which they no longer had to loot and plunder for gold and gems, because the zebras brought them all the riches they desired and gave them willingly. Thus have we lived, these years and centuries since from that day until this very day and all the days that are yet to come."
"That… that is very wise of you," Spike said, deciding the flattery was probably the best option he had right now. "Uh, if I might ask, my lord, why are you sharing this fascinating story with me?"
"You are a dragon," Mantle said. "Although you have been raised by ponies you are yet young enough to learn our ways, easier, I deem, than a dragon raised by our barbaric cousins could. There could be a place for you amongst the Mighty, if you wish it so."
And abandon my friends, not likely. Spike had been tempted by that path already; he knew better now that the false promise of 'belonging' or 'being with his own kind' could never compare with the love and friendship offered to him by Twilight and her friends. He honestly couldn't say for certain whether this exploitation being practiced by the Mighty Ones was better or worse than the more openly rough and tumble nature of the other dragons he'd met, but they were neither of them better than what he had in Equestria. Still, he didn't think that just openly admitting that would be the best idea. "You… you honour me, my lord. Um, if you don't me asking, uh, sir, what happened to the ponies that I came here with?"
"I have had them cast into the dungeon," Mantle declared. "I was informed that they were dangerous to me, that they came here to rob me. Is it so?"
"No!" Spike cried, anxiety lending volume to his voice. "I mean, uh," he cast his eyes around the chamber; there was a set of stairs – probably for zebra servants – leading up and out of the pit, but how was he supposed to get to it? "I mean… I mean…" he had an idea. It was a risky idea, sure, but it was also the best idea that he could come up with at this moment. Dragons liked gold and gems, sure, but they also liked power; at least they probably did if they went to all this trouble to get and keep it. "I mean, whoever told you that obviously just wants to keep you away from the Heart of the World."
"The Heart of the World?" Mantle repeated. "That is a story told to children."
"The ponies I was with disagree, and one of them is very intelligent," Spike replied. "That was why we were really here, not to steal from you at all but to find the Heart of the World which they believe is somewhere around here."
"Near here?" Mantle said. "Near here on my land?"
"Yes!" Spike cried. "So, in a way, you could say that you're the one who deserves to find it, seeing as-"
"Seeing as I do deserve to find it," Mantle said, with a soft growl. "Why, if I could find the Heart of the World, then I would be… with its blessing I might supplant the Emperor himself." He looked up, and seemed to gaze out into space for a moment, no doubt imagining the glory and power that would be his if he did, indeed, find the Heart.
"Y-yes," Spike said. "Yes, you would; and very well deserved."
"Could you guide me to the Heart?" Mantle demanded.
"I would certainly be willing – and honoured – to try," Spike declared. "But to be sure of finding it the best thing would be to-"
"No!"
The cry came from above. Spike's gaze flew that way, to behold a cloaked figure standing above them, her whole body concealed beneath hood and cloak.
Raven, the pony who attacked Pinkie Pie.
What is she doing here?
"I will not allow this!" Raven cried. "I won't allow any of you to reach the Heart of the World!"
Raven’s cry echoed in the chamber, reverberating off the high stone walls, descending like a stone cast into a well down to the bottom of the treasure chamber where Spike and Mantle stood.
For a moment, the words of Raven were the only sound in Mantle’s lair, but it was a moment that swiftly passed as Mantle turned his head towards her, a baleful gaze in his amber eyes.
“You will not allow,” Mantle growled, smoke coming out of his nostrils. “I was not aware, little pony, that I required your leave to come or to go or to do anything.” His long neck reared upwards, the dragon’s head reaching towards Raven. “You did not tell me that these ponies knew the way to the Heart of the World.”
Raven said nothing at first, and Spike found that he could practically see her mind working. She was realising, unless he missed his guess, that she shouldn’t have blurted out her refusal to allow him to reach the Heart of the World, and that she would have done better denying that Spike was telling truth rather than tacitly admitting that he was right. And now that Mantle was intrigued by what Spike had to say and offer she was stuck.
And it served her right was all that he could say to that.
“I-“ Raven began.
“You lied to me,” Mantle snarled. “You told me that these ponies were a crew of burglars, and that they meant to steal my treasure out from under my nose.”
“I did not lie to you, O most auspicious of fire-breathers,” Raven began.
“It is a little late for flattery when you have entered my presence unannounced and unbidden, and sought to forbid me from taking a course which I desire to take,” Mantle informed her. More of his body emerged from out of his treasure trove, and in the process of his rising he dislodged more gold and jewels that showered downwards like water sloughing off a wet dog, so that Spike had to scramble both to keep his footing and to avoid being buried beneath the cascading treasure trove.
“I did not lie,” Raven repeated. “I may have… omitted certain things, but these ponies are dangerous-“
“That’s another lie,” Spike declared, his voice ringing out. It might not always show because he habitually spent his days in the company of a genius like Twilight – and when he wasn’t with her then he often accompanied ponies like Rarity, who were no slouches for brainpower either – but Spike was not stupid. He was young, a little naïve sometimes, childish often, but he wasn’t stupid. He’d grown up in the same house as Twilight, been tutored sometimes by Princess Celestia, and he was not an idiot by any stretch of the imagination. He had a mind, even if he didn’t always get the chance to use or show it because he was surrounded so often by so many finer minds.
But he wasn’t surrounded by them now. Now he was all alone. All alone and evolving a plan.
Mantle’s great head, large enough to swallow Spike whole or to crush the little dragon beneath his powerful jaws, swung around to look at him. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice a little softer now, a sibilant hiss.
Mantle’s gaze was as hard as stone. His eyes burned like fire, and Spike found that he could count all of the older, much larger dragon’s razor sharp teeth where they stuck out of his mouth. It was not the most comfortable experience in the world, being stared at by this creature, but nevertheless, need overcoming fear, Spike mastered the chill he felt in his stomach to stammer out “Y-yes! Raven just wants to stop anyone from reaching the Heart of the World! She wants the power to be found there for herself!”
“I do not!” Raven replied. “Spike, stop lying!”
“You’re the one who’s lied already,” Spike protested. “I’ve always told the truth.” His gaze flickered to the stairs leading up and out of this chamber. Hopefully it wouldn’t take much more to set one of them off. “I told you about the Heart of the World right away, but Raven never mentioned it, did she?”
Mantle exhaled loudly. “The little one makes an excellent point, don’t you think?” he said, turning his face once more toward Raven.
“That does not make him honest,” Raven growled. “I do not seek the Heart for myself. No one should find it. It must remain buried, forgotten, lost to time itself. No one should have the power waiting for them-“ she stopped abruptly, and it took Spike a moment to realise that she had made another mistake.
“You know what’s there?” he said. “You’ve been there already, haven’t you?”
Raven hissed wordlessly. “There is nothing for you there,” she said, to Mantle rather than to Spike. “There is nothing for anyone but doom for the world.”
“You will forgive me if your word carries a little less weight with me than it did when you first abased yourself before my claws,” Mantle growled. “But the word of a liar cannot be replied upon. Young Spike, you will guide me to the Heart of the World and I will claim whatever may be found there, treasure or power or both. In return, once the Heart is found, I will release you and your companions, to go whither you will, homewards or elsewhere. You may even stay with me, and rule by my side as I use the power of the Heart of the World to take my rightful place upon the Imperial throne of Most August and Ancient Grevyia.”
Yeah, like that’ll ever happen, Spike thought. What he said was, “That… that is a very generous offer, Lord Mantle. I would be honoured to take you up on it once we have found the Heart of the World.”
“No!” Raven yelled. “No! This cannot happen! I will not allow it!”
Mantle rose. His wings were spread from wall to wall, beating lazily as he ascended up the chamber, up and up and up until he was not merely level with Raven in height but now above her, looking down upon her, like an eagle about to pounce upon a field mouse.
“You begin to anger me, little pony,” he snarled. “You sought to use me as a tool in your design, setting me to obstruct your rival without telling me their purpose; and now you seek to deny me what is mine by right, a thing of great magic that resides in my domain, in my territory, this thing of legend that belongs by all law and natural justice to me?”
“The Heart of the World may be buried beneath the earth you rule but you do not possess it,” Raven said. “It does not belong to you.”
“It doesn’t belong to you either,” Spike pointed.
“Quiet, Spike,” Raven snapped. “Lord Mantle, this dragon-“
“Speaks words more pleasing to my ear than any you have uttered,” Mantle declared. “He promises me much, while you like a scold seek only to deny me that why I would have within my claws.”
“You shall not have it,” Raven snapped. “I won’t allow you… any of you…”
“And how will you stop me?” Mantle demanded, and once more smoke burst from his nostrils to engulf Raven.
Raven stood still, and silent. It was as if she had been turned to stone. She was still and silent and invisible, her whole body swathed in her dark cloak and hood.
But as Spike watched, his eyes widened in amazement as he saw a multitude of golden portals, shimmering light like the air had been turned to water and stones had been cast into them, portals that matched… that matched Twilight’s descriptions of Lightning Dawn using his Olympian powers to summon his sword.
But Lightning, by Twilight’s account, could only summon a single sword and only needed one portal to do it. Raven – assuming it was her, and Spike had no reason to believe that it wasn’t her – was summoning a dozen, no a score of portals, and out of those portals emerged sharp swords and stout spears which erupted, point first, out of the ether to fly towards Mantle.
How is she doing that? Is she from New Olympia too?
Then why-
Spears and swords alike struck Mantle, but glanced off his scales as hard as diamond to strike the wall around or, in a couple of cases, fly downwards towards Spike and all the treasure upon which he stood. Spike threw himself across the chamber as a spear with a black shaft and a red ribbon tied beneath the hilt slammed into the gold right where he’d been standing.
Spike looked up. He had to judge his moment perfectly.
The blades and spears had knocked Mantle back, but they did not seem to have severely injured him; his scales were too tough for Raven’s weapons to penetrate. Nevertheless he snarled with anger as he opened his mouth and a great gust of flame burst from his maw to engulf the cloaked and hooded pony.
A shield of shimmering golden light appeared in front of Raven, and the dragon’s fire lapped against it but did no more, it could progress no further; Spike thought that maybe he could hear Raven growling with the effort of maintaining her shield, as Mantle continued to breathe fire down at her and the flames as crimson as his scales pushed against her pulsing golden light, but the crackle of the flames was so intense that he could hardly say.
Then Mantle lunged for her, bodily smashing through the shield as he snapped at Raven with his immense jaws. Spike thought that he saw Raven dodge to one side, but the pony disappeared before he could be sure as all the view was obscured by Mantle, smashing through the archway that led out of his lair, bellowing in anger, his tail thrashing against the stone walls as he, too, disappeared from sight.
Spike could hear the dragon roaring, just as he could hear something – more weapons, he assumed, pounding upon dragonscale.
Now. Now was the time. Now was his chance, he might not get another.
Spike ran for the stairs.
Above him, the sounds of fighting echoed. Mantle bellowed in anger, roaring out wordless defiance – along with, no doubt, a great quantity of flame besides – while from Raven there was no sound at all, but the noise of weapons striking off scales, along with Mantle's continued anger, showed that she was still alive and in the fight.
There were other sounds too: cries of alarm, hooves beating upon the floors above him; Spike guessed – not that it took a genius to make this guess – that the zebra guards who served Mantle were being drawn towards the sounds of fighting, racing to the aid of their master.
Surely Raven wouldn't be able to fight against the whole palace? Surely she would be overwhelmed?
Not that Spike minded that very much – she had tried to kill Pinkie, after all, and caused for Twilight to be attacked and almost die twice now, not to mention that she was the reason that everybody had been locked up by Mantle in the first place – but it did mean that he had to hurry. The confusion of a fight between Raven and Mantle was pretty much the only chance he had to get out of here and find the others, that was why he'd tried to nudge them towards fighting one another in the first place, so he couldn't afford to hang around and wait for the fight to be over.
And so Spike scrambled across the treasure mounds, scattering the gold coins as his clawed feet skittered over them, rushing past piles of gems, leaping over strings of pearls, ignoring ancient weapons that glimmered in the torchlight. He ran for the servants' staircase leading up and out of this sunken chamber. When he tripped and fell he kept moving on all fours like a dog before finally pulling himself back upright.
Mantle howled in pain, the sound of his agonised cry echoing off the walls and down into the treasure vault. Spike reached the stairs and began to climb up them as fast as he could. It wasn't as fast as he would have liked given that they were built for someone a bit bigger than he was, to the extent that he wasn't so much running as he was climbing up them – this would have all been so much easier if he was just a little bit bigger – reaching up with his claws and pulling the rest of him after.
The sounds of battle continued. There was a thunderous impact, followed by the sound of several creatures – zebras maybe – crying out in horror and alarm. The entire palace shook. Dust and fragments of stone crumbled from the ceiling. Spike kept on climbing. He was already starting to feel the effort of it – so many steps – but he kept on going. He had to keep going. Twilight, Rarity, all the others, they were depending on him. He couldn't just give up.
The sound of fighting drove him on. He had to keep going. He had no choice but to keep going, and to keep going as fast as he could what was more. That fight wasn't going to go on forever.
Another thunderous sound, and more debris fell from the ceiling.
And if the fight does go on forever then this palace will come down on our heads. I have to find the others.
As he climbed, thinking to distract himself from the shortness of his breath, Spike wondered if he ought to feel guilty about having encouraged those two to fight it out like this. It didn't seem like the kind of thing that Twilight would have done, and Spike thought that perhaps he should have tried to make a genuine friend out of Mantle. On the other hand, Twilight and her friends had once turned Discord to stone because some people you just couldn't do anything about; and since Spike didn't have the power to turn anyone into stone, this was about the best he could do.
He reached the top, clambering over the lip of the final stair and emerging into the palace proper.
It might have been a sight to appreciate if it hadn't been such a mess.
Mantle's palace had clearly been built to a size that would accommodate a dragon of his size or bigger, with high ceilings and cavernous corridors. Of course that wasn't unusual for palaces – the palace in Canterlot was far, far bigger than even Princess Celestia, the biggest pony in Equestria, required – but this place, in a town of no great note, managed to dwarf it for just how vast it was.
Canterlot palace was also, Spike hoped, not in quite so much of a mess as this. Columns of golden marble, carved into the shapes of zebras and elephants supporting the ceiling on their backs, had been toppled and broken, they lay in split and severed ruins upon the floor. Mantle's claws and Raven's array of weapons had scored the mosaics that adorned the floor, disfiguring the scenes of feasting and revelry which were depicted there. Spears and swords were buried in the floor and walls, and zebra guards lay on the floor. Some of them wore helmets of dull iron upon their heads; others concealed their faces behind white masks; discarded spears, some cracked and broken, lay beside them.
And Mantle and Raven fought on. As Spike watched, unable to tear his eyes away out of a kind of horrified fascination at what was unfolding before them, he watched as Mantle lurched into view. The dragon had a spear lodged in his right shoulder and a sword buried in his left foreleg, his crimson scales were cracked in places, and he was dripping blood on the floor of his palace, but nevertheless he surged forward with a great roar. Raven leapt backwards, her dark cloak billowing around her as more portals of that shimmering golden light appeared in the air, and more weapons flew through the air to hammer upon the scales of Mantle, or else to dart like thunderbolts towards the ever-increasing number of zebra guards who seemed to be flooding in from every corner of the palace. Fire erupted from out of Mantle's mouth, but Raven seemed not even discomfited by it; she continued to leap, and yet for all that she leapt her cloak yet seemed to wrap like shadow all around her, concealing what lay beneath from Spike's eyes.
Spike forcibly tore his gaze away from the battle unfolding before his eyes. He could have watched, as the armoured titan and the nimble fly with her myriad of stings battled their way through the palace, destroying it as they fought, but he couldn't wait. He couldn't just hang around. He had started this fight to give him time, now he had to make the most of what he had bought.
And so, as Mantle's flames collapsed one wall and set an ornately patterned carpet on fire moments before he was pushed through a set of columns by a barrage of spears and lances, Spike turned away from all of it and set himself the task of finding his friends.
Wherever they were.
Where were they? Well, they were in the dungeon, but where was that? How was he supposed to… wait, was that candy?
Spike sniffed the air. It was! He could smell candy all the way from here, and lots of it too. There was only one mare in the whole world he knew who smelled that way: Pinkie Pie!
Hold on, girls. I'm on my way.
The world shook.
Or rather, it was actually just this place in which they were imprisoned shaking, but considering that their world was, for all intents and purposes, this place in which they had been imprisoned that was quite bad enough. At least as far as Twilight was concerned.
"What do you think that is?" Fluttershy asked tremulously, as the world trembled for a second time, and then a third. A little dust shook free from the ceiling to fall like rain upon their heads.
"I don't know," Applejack said. "But it sure don't sound good."
"Zecora?" Twilight asked. "Do you have any ideas?"
"Zebras do not make a custom," Zecora replied, in a tone that mingled amusement and exasperation in equal measure. "Of bringing about our homes' destruction."
"So it isn't normal," Twilight murmured, because if that was true it made it even worse. The world shook again, even more violently now than the last two times. "I'm sorry, girls," she declared. "I'm so sorry for getting you all into this."
"Oh, don't worry Twilight," Pinkie said cheerily. "Even if this was your fault – which it isn't, because if it weren't for that no-good Raven then none of us would be here right now – then it wouldn't matter because everything is about to take a turn for the better."
"Really?" Ace asked. "Much as I try to always appreciate optimism in all circumstances, look on the bright side and all, I've got to ask what you're basing this on considering our circumstances."
"I've just a good feeling," Pinkie said. "Like our luck is about to change for the better any…. second…"
"Pinkie? Is that you?"
"Now!" Pinkie cried. "We're all down here, Spike!"
"Spike?" Rarity repeated. "Spikey-wikey, is that really you?"
A small, figure appeared in silhouette at the door to the cell set high above them. "It's me, Rarity, I'm right here. Is Twilight down there?"
Twilight got up, her chains clanking as she rose to her hooves. "Yes!" she replied, yelling up at him. "We're all down here, Spike."
"Are you okay down there?"
"Oh, sure, we're just chilling out and playing games," Rainbow replied in a voice laced with sarcasm. "Of course we're not okay! We're all chained up down here!"
"Right, sorry."
"More importantly, are you okay?" Twilight demanded anxiously. "Where did they take you, and how did you get here?"
"I…" Spike hesitated. "Well that's a long story, so why don't we wait until I've gotten you all out of here and then I can tell you when we're all free, huh?"
"Sounds great," Ace said. "But are you sure you can manage?"
Spike scoffed. "Can I manage? Please. I may only be a baby dragon, but I'm still a dragon."
"Well, technically, but if you think about the fact that you don't act like any other dragons do, you don't hang out with other dragons, and the one time you did hang out with other dragons you hated it so much that you ran all the way back to Ponyville we could say that you're really more of a pony with scales," Pinkie said. "Who breathes fire. And-"
"Pinkie, you're stepping on my cool line," Spike complained.
"Ooh! Sorry," Pinkie hissed.
Twilight was spared asking Spike what he was going to do by the glow of green dragonfire burning above them, illuminating her little companion as he breathed forth the flames upon the ropes that bound the wooden door so tightly shut. It was slow progress by the looks of things. Spike took deep breath after deep breath before a little jet of fire would burst from his mouth only to fade again a moment later; long, sustained jets of fire were beyond him at his age, and at times he had to pause for a moment, gasping for breath as if he couldn't manage any more.
"You can do it, Spike!" Rarity cried. "I believe in you."
"And so do I," Twilight added, feeling ashamed of herself for not having been the first to cheer him on.
"Goooo Spike!" Pinkie yelled, and soon everypony, even Ace, had taken up the call, cheering Spike's name as he breathed and puffed, breathed and puffed, the cheering form the prisoners down below seeming to give him strength as at last he burned the ropes away and with, a great heave, pulled back the heavy wooden door the obstructed the way into the pit.
"Before you jump down," Twilight said urgently, foreseeing all too readily what might be about to happen next. "Rainbow, Fluttershy and Ace can't fly right now, even without their chains. Is there a way to get everypony back up again?"
Spike paused on the edge of the pity. "Thanks for letting me know, Twilight. Uh, let's see… ah! There's a winch here, and a platform or something." Spike pointed at something, and Twilight looked up to see a shape that might well be a platform looming overhead, suspended from the ceiling. "But, I'll have to come down there to get those chains off you, and if I do that then who's going to work the winch to get everyone back up?"
"If you ride that platform down here," Applejack said. "Then get me out, then I can climb up the rope and winch everyone else back up."
"Are you sure you can do that?" Rainbow asked.
"Unlike y'all I still got my earth pony strength," Applejack reminded her. "And I can climb a rope upwards any day."
"Are you-" Spike began, before the world shook once again. "I'm going to take your word for it," he said, "cause I don't think that we have time to argue about it. Look out below, everypony!" Spike leapt out into the air, landing upon the squat, square, wooden platform, which immediately began to drop downwards. Spike cried out as he fell down towards the surface of the pit where the ponies were imprisoned.
He landed with a thud, and a clatter of the wooden platform.
"Ten out of ten," he groaned.
"Are you okay?" demanded Twilight anxiously.
"I'll be fine," Spike muttered. "Scales, remember?" He picked himself up off the floor. "Applejack?"
"Over here, Spike," Applejack called from out of the dark.
Spike's night vision was a lot better than that of any pony – an advantage of dragons being, amongst other things, nocturnal predators who spent a great deal of time in caves – so he was able to find his way to Applejack a lot better than Twilight could, disappearing into the darkness after the sound of her voice. There was the sound of Spike grunting with effort, the screeching of metal, and Twilight was left to imagine iron chains being rent by draconic claws before she heard said chains rattle to the ground.
"Thank you kindly, Spike," Applejack said, before Twilight heard her leap upwards, and start huffing and puffing as she climbed up the rope to the world up above them.
"Please hurry," Fluttershy murmured.
"I'm being as quick as I can," Applejack grunted, but not unkindly. It was Fluttershy, after all.
"Me next, Spike," Ace urged. "I may not have the use of my wings but I can climb too."
Spike waddled in Ace's direction, and after a moment Twilight heard her chains, too, fall from her body, and heard her begin to scale the rope that led to safety.
"One," Applejack muttered. "Two… three!" Twilight heard her friend cry out wordlessly, heard a scuffling sound, and then heard Applejack said. "I'm up! Give me a holler when y'all are ready and I'll get turning this here winch."
"We will," Twilight called up to her.
"Me next! Me next!" Pinkie cried eagerly.
Spike chuckled, in spite of the situation. "Sure thing, Pinkie."
Twilight heard Pinkie's chains fall, followed a moment later by the sound of Pinkie's voice from high up above them. "Hey there, Applejack!"
"Yah!" Applejack yelled. "Don't do that, Pinkie! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"
"Sorry!"
"And could you have done that this whole darn time?"
"Maybe," Pinkie admitted. "But then Spike wouldn't have gotten his hero moment."
"Wait," Spike said as he freed the others. "Are you saying that you stayed down here out of pity?"
"No," Pinkie called down. "Well, maybe, but it's not as bad as it sounds."
"Pinkie can speak for herself, I'm only down here because I was stuck," Rainbow said. "Thanks a lot, little guy."
Twilight reached out and embraced Spike with one foreleg, pulling him tight and holding him close. "You've done brilliantly, Spike. We're all extremely grateful. And I'm so proud of you."
"Our hero," Rarity, planting a gentle kiss upon his forehead.
"Are you girls ready down there?" Applejack hollered.
They all climbed onto the wooden platform. It was a little bit of a tight squeeze, but they all managed to fit, even if Spike did have to climb onto Twilight's back to manage.
"We're all on," Twilight shouted.
They could hear Applejack and Ace both grunting and panting with effort as they worked the winch, hauling four ponies, a zebra and a baby dragon upwards, up out of the pit, out of darkness, out of captivity and up towards where freedom beckoned until they reached the top and were able, one by one, to leap across the short distance between the platform and the dungeon corridor.
"Now," Applejack said. "I don't know about the rest of y'all, but I'm about ready to get out of this town."
"You said it, Applejack," Twilight agreed. "Let's get out of here, as quickly as we can."