The five of them crept along the hedgerow of Sweet Apple Acres.
Occasionally, Piña would raise her voice to ask what they were doing, only for the others to frantically shush her. Apple Bloom had to lead the way, since she was the only one who knew the territory, though she complained a lot under her breath. The rest came in single file, except for Alula, who insisted on flying overhead to prove she didn’t need to fumble on the ground like the rest of them, the pansies.
Up ahead, the hulking shadow of the barn occluded most of the mighty stars. Dinky’s heart beat faster and hit harder against the bars of her ribcage. She crumpled under the pity when she heard Piña swallow.
None of the other Apples would be awake. Her heart steadied. But then if Winona smelled them… Her heart burst with fresh panic. The rest of her desperately tried not to make a smell at all.
Apple Bloom guided the door open with a creak. Barely visible as a moving silhouette in the gloom, she waved them into the barn.
She whispered, “Get the milk from Daisy. Third one on the left. Don’t wake Mooriella whatever you do. She spooks easy.”
“Gotcha,” whispered Dinky.
In her mind, she rebelled. It’s not milk! It’s the nectar of the princesses! No, it’s a rationed drink for our troops! No, it’s rocket fuel for Sparky’s ship!
“Ow!”
Metal clanked. They all jumped. Someone cut off their own scream.
Odd Job sucked in a breath of fresh pain. “Stupid bucket! I can’t see where I’m going!” she moaned.
“I thought Carrots could see in the dark?” said Piña.
“Carrot vegetables, yes. Carrot ponies, no.”
“There are ponies made out of carrots?”
Everyone paused until the embarrassment passed like wind. If Piña had a brain, it was directly wired to her mouth, which in any case ran on automatic.
“Eh, that ‘carrots help you see better’ stuff’s just a myth,” whispered Alula. “Grown-ups say stuff like that to get you to eat your greens. Doesn’t work on me,” she added smugly.
“Vegetables don’t have eyes!” said Piña accusingly.
“Will you shush up?” hissed Apple Bloom. “Ah don’t wanna wake up my family. They’d think we were thievin’.”
Dinky stretched her magic towards the source of the metal clank. It sure felt like a bucket to her. A pail for the milk?
“What am Ah sayin’!? We are thievin’! None of us is payin’ for the milk! Ah can’t thieve from my own family!”
“You shush!” hissed Alula back. They quickly devolved into a heated but quiet argument.
Gently as she could, Dinky levitated the pail over to her spot. Under the thin glow of her magical aura, the udders faded into sight.
Now for the technical bit…
Oh no. Now what do I do?
“The brave Sparky,” she whispered, hoping a little self-commentary would keep her steady. “Heeding the call of destiny, she goes forth to prepare for her noble quest…”
She shut her eyes, reached across, and squeezed.
What happened next made every foal shriek. All five of them pressed into each other, vainly trying to be the one shielded by the other four.
Cows, Dinky knew, were supposed to go “moo”. It was common sense. What she’d just heard was far worse. It was the high rumble of an almighty god, woken from slumber, yet reaching a pitch which suggested someone had grabbed it in a very sensitive spot. Another monstrous mooing shook even the solid ground underfoot, leaving no doubt that the blasphemous groper would be met like-for-like, to be viciously struck down with great vengeance and furious anger.
The head of a horned devil emerged from the shadow. In the dim glow of Dinky’s horn, the cow’s blotchy brown face became the pox-ridden mask of a swollen demon.
Voice quavering, body quivering, Dinky pleaded, “I’m s-s-s-sorry, Miss! P-Please don’t hurt us!”
Finally, the voice commanded them: “And hwhat bloomin’ time d’ye call this!?”
“Um,” said Apple Bloom in a moment of recklessness.
From nearby, another shadow stirred. “Mooriella? Are you all right, dearie? I thought you had one of your turns.”
The ghastly visage of Mooriella grunted. “Spies. Thieves. Trespassers, Daisy. Going around sabotagin’ my sleep! We’ll all be milked in our beds!”
“Hm?” Another face entered the light as the next cow leaned closer to inspect them.
Five thumping hearts quelled themselves. Demonic lows and fearsome faces of judgement were one thing, but no one could be frightened of a sleeping mask with butterflies on it.
“Er…” squeaked Apple Bloom. “Mornin’? Daisy Jo? Mooriella? Ma’am?”
Daisy Jo slipped the mask off with a cloven hoof. “Oh, Mooriella, you silly old girl. It’s only the little Apple darling. And you brought your friends. Oh, isn’t that lovely?”
Fear simply evaporated under the onslaught of Daisy Jo’s accent; the mind spent too long wondering what it was supposed to be. Gingerly, the five fillies disentangled themselves and shuffled their feet, as fillies are wont to do when they’ve looked silly in front of witnesses.
“Awful weird to see you up so late, moonlight-milkin’ and all,” continued Daisy Jo’s fluty tones like a fussy mother hen. “You’ll catch your death of cold workin’ out at night, don’t-cha-know.”
“Please don’t tell Applejack Ah came out here!” Apple Bloom wailed in fresh misery.
“Wotcher doin’ out here in the first place, dearie?”
“I told you,” rumbled Mooriella. “They’s thievin’ about. Takin’ milk out of the Apple coffers. You ought to be ashamed of yerselves.”
There was a chorus of “sorry’s” from among those assembled. Only Dinky remained quiet. Her improvisational mind had now hurtled over the first barrier erected before it, and was sizing up the next one.
She bowed low. “Please excuse us, Miss Daisy and Miss Mooriella. We are on a noble quest to get the first pony into space.”
“At one ‘o’ clock in the morning?” Mooriella huffed impatiently.
“Best time for it,” said Dinky fast. “You can’t see space in the day.”
“Space is space, my good filly!”
“Really? Have you ever seen stars in the middle of the day, Miss Mooriella?”
She’d struck gold; Daisy Jo burst into a booming laugh that briefly shocked Dinky into freezing on the spot.
“Hmph,” said Mooriella around her neighbour’s belly laughs. “I don’t see what my milk has to do with it.”
“It’s fuel for the spaceship.” Dinky bowed low again. “We want to follow the Milky Way, you see.”
“Your tongue is too quick by far, young lady!” Mooriella grunted and backed out of the light. They heard her shuffle round and away to rest again.
Beside her, Daisy Jo tutted. “Oh, don’t mind her, Little Miss Quicktongue. She’s a cow of her own constitution, that one.”
Dinky left herself a mental memo: Look up “constitution” the first chance I get.
“Myself, I don’t see why giving a little milk to such little ponies would hurt anyone. It is my milk, after all, to do with as I please. Tell you what, dearies. I’ll look the other way this time, and you promise not to come sneaking up and scaring poor old Mooriella again. Is that a fair offer?”
The wink sealed the deal. Every one of the Sisterhooves Sisters breathed a sigh of relief. No one who winked like that would go back on their word.
“Thanks, Daisy Jo!” said Odd Job, so relieved that she wasn’t even bothering to lower her voice. “You’re a star!”
“Milk, yay! Milk, yay!” Piña hopped on the spot, thumping the earthy floor and crackling straw underfoot.
“On the house!” said Alula. “Ha! On the barnhouse!”
While Daisy Jo chuckled indulgently and turned around, the others slapped the earth until they found the upturned pail.
“Milk, yay! Milk, yay!” Piña stopped bouncing. “Will… Will there be cookies?”
“What?” said Odd Job.
“If you have milk, you always have cookies too. Hmm…” She trotted past Dinky and squinted at the udder. “Which one gives the cookies, Miss Daisy Jo?”
“You don’t bake at home, do you?” said Odd Job dispiritedly.
Only then did Apple Bloom hum with uncertainty. “Er… Are you sure this is a good idea, Miss Daisy Jo? Applejack’s bound to –”
“Don’t you worry about it, dearie. Help yourselves. You have my blessing, you sweet little things.”
“Right…”
Dinky reached towards the udder before a thought struck her.
“Um,” she said. “I don’t know how to milk a cow. Is there a special way you have to do it?”
“You mean you don’t know?” said Apple Bloom, panicking again. “You dragged us all the way to break into my own farm, and you don’t know!?”
“Don’t you know, then?”
“No! Applejack never showed me!”
“Er… Cosmo? How about you?”
“What do you think?” snapped Alula.
“Piña – I mean, Magical Ladybug?”
“Ew! I’m not touching cow parts!”
“But,” said Dinky, sinking under the weight of the philosophical conundrum. “Who will milk the cow?”
They sank further into deep cogitation. Eventually, all faces turned to Odd Job.
She slumped in defeat.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” she muttered.
“You know how?” said Dinky.
“Golden Harvest used to have a cow once. She tried making carrot milk.” Odd Job pulled a face which said quite plainly that it wasn’t Golden Harvest who had anything to do with the mucky jobs there. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Ah’d do it,” said Apple Bloom apologetically. “Only Ah’m more into the rodeo side of country livin’.”
“Wow, really rodeoing?” said Alula, impressed.
The others pestered Apple Bloom for rodeo stories and what her sister Applejack did to earn her medals, while in the background, milk squelched and the milker sighed on her own. Dinky flitted back and forth between the two, torn between her pity for Odd Job and her desire to hear how Applejack had nearly crushed the judges in the haybale-throwing contest.
Eventually, the squelching stopped, and a pail sloshed in a healthy way.
“There you go, my little darlings!” called Daisy Jo. “You enjoy that milk now, you hear?”
“We will!” chorused the four; Odd Job fell onto the ground with a groan.
“And don’t forget your promise!”
“We won’t!”
In the end, Alula dangled the pail and Apple Bloom balanced it on her back, the two being the strongest fillies. Dinky hefted Odd Job onto her back to carry her out. Neither team beat Piña out the gate, nor could they match her bouncing enthusiasm.
“Milky Way, here we come!” she cried.
“Shh!” hissed Apple Bloom. “You’ll wake up the whole farm!”
“Now what, Sparky?” Alula grunted under the weight of milk.
Patient as a sheepdog before herding, Dinky’s rushing mind settled back on course. That’s the fuel taken care of. What else does Sparky the Space Scout need?
Dinky tittered to herself. “We’ve got the fuel for my rocket. Now we need magic from the witch.”
“Why?” hissed Apple Bloom.
“Otherwise the rocket won’t work.”
“Rockets don’t need magic.”
“Not normal rockets. But special rockets need special stuff, and I won’t settle for less than special.” Dinky drew herself up proudly and then stopped when Odd Job threatened to slide off. Now for the moment she’d been waiting for. “Now we’re off to see the witch for a spell!”
Piña burst out laughing until she realized it wasn’t a pun. The others shushed her angrily.
“All right!” said Alula. “And it’s the witching hour too. Perfect!”
Of course: Cloudkicker took an interest in witches. Being her younger sister, Alula had only taken an interest when she’d learned about evil curses, and everything else she’d learned about witchcraft had hung on like toadies around a cool friend.
Proudly, Dinky marched ahead. “Follow me, girls! On, on to the witch’s volcano. Sparky’s destiny awaits!”
Dinky tried another window.
“You’re jokin’, right?” said Apple Bloom.
“I think this one’s open.”
“You’re gonna break into the Golden Oak Library? You? Right now? In the middle of the night?”
“It’s just part of the game.” Dinky pushed the window further to widen the gap. “When a brave hero ventures forth to take magic from the witch of… of… the Witch of Canterlot Caldera, she doesn’t wait until opening time, does she? No hero waits for opening time. They just go out and do it.”
“It’s OK,” said Odd Job bitterly. “Golden Harvest said fillyhood is the time to do crazy stuff, so you can look back on it later in life and laugh. Ha!”
“Then why are you laughing right now?” said Piña.
“Saving time!” snarled Odd Job.
“This is so cool!” said Alula, somersaulting in mid-air through sheer excitement. “Breaking and entering should be legal!”
“It wouldn’t be fun if it was legal,” said Odd Job, social commentator when she was in a bad mood.
After a while, Piña gasped for attention. “We really are breaking in?”
“Yes,” said Dinky, still working on the window.
“Are we going to get into trouble?”
“What?” Dinky widened the window’s gap a few more inches.
“I mean, we’re not doing anything wrong, are we? Big Sis wouldn’t let us do anything wrong.”
All of them fell into foot-shuffling silence while they tried to think on Piña’s kind of wavelength. The long pause was only to be expected, given the difficulty of reaching a wavelength that skewed.
Dinky beamed down at her. “Nah. Heroes only do good things. It’s all right if heroes do it.”
“Breakin’ and enterin’ don’t sound heroic to me,” muttered Apple Bloom.
Alula sniggered. “Yeah? What adventure stories have you been reading?”
“Huh?”
“Stealing the Idol of Boreas, the Griffon’s Goblet, the Jewelled Eye of Anubis, the Princess of the Phoenix Lands, the secret plans of the Warmonger Society… Stealing stuff from bad guys is what good guys do.”
The window clicked. Dinky heaved herself through the gap and eased the others one-by-one after herself, except for Alula, who sailed in so smugly that she cruised on her back, humming quietly to herself.
“It’s dark,” whispered Piña.
“I knew there was a reason we brought you along,” muttered Odd Job.
“This is the evil witch’s lair,” said Dinky in her best spooky narrator voice. “We’re in the world of grim fairy tales now, my pretty. Damsels and dragons and knights in shining armour… and evil witches.”
A snore came from upstairs. Dinky tried to stay still in mid-tiptoe. The others stopped making noises sharpish.
The snoring resumed. Until it became background.
Then they relaxed.
“My sister is all about witches,” whispered Alula, still contriving to sound smug. “They’re her hobby. I learned some of them have familiars, who spy on ponies and look for victims.”
“Well, she does have a dragon,” whispered Dinky.
Odd Job squeaked. “What? I thought you were joking!”
“She ain’t,” sighed Apple Bloom.
“Oh no, it’s no joke, little one,” said Dinky, warming to her role as terror-inducer. “A terrible dragon, born from his mistress’s dark magic. Eater of the Power Crystals, messenger of Tartarus! Eternally loyal servant to his mistress’s evil will!”
“Dinky?”
“Yes, Apple Bloom?”
“You know he’s just a harmless baby dragon, right?”
“Yes? So do you want to wake him up, then?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“Miss Dinky Sparky Scout?”
“Yes, Piña – I mean yes, Magical Ladybug?”
“Um… What are we looking for?”
Dinky’s voice barely wavered under the weight of patience. “Something magical that’ll help make the spell necessary to power the first flight of Sparky the Space Scout’s space shuttle!” As an afterthought, she added, “You’ll know it when you see it.”
“Oh, good. Right.”
Inspiration struck. Why not, after all? It was a reliable fallback.
“Something like a power crystal,” said Dinky. “Or a magical gemstone. Enchanted jewellery, or something. It usually is shiny like that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t want to steal it.”
Following a creak of a cupboard and a sparkle in the gloom, Alula’s voice drifted by. “I think I’ve found some regular gemstones.”
“Good!” Dinky cocked an ear for the slightest sound, but amidst the shuffling and the tapping of her fellows, surveillance proved difficult. “All right, grab one and we’ll call this a successful –”
Someone switched the light on.
They froze.
A small figure stood before them, claw raised to the light switch, eyes wide with shock.
They took in the scaly hide, the claws dominating the hands and feet, the horrible, horrible fangs when the spiky creature opened its mouth to let out a breath like a blast furnace.
He said, “AAAARRRRGGGGHHH!”
And gave a jump.
With unerring pitifulness, Piña screamed and tripped over her own legs. Alula rose too fast; she hit the ceiling, yelped, and fell to the floor. Even Odd Job ducked behind Dinky, pressing against her back legs so hard that she made her quiver too.
Dinky was too fake-frightened to move of her own free will. She breathed, “It’s a dragon…”
Whereupon Apple Bloom blew a raspberry. “Oh, come on.”
This reaction was so unexpected that the others, crouched down or standing up, snapped their gazes to her scowl at once.
“Unlike you gals, Ah stayed up on Summer Sun Celebration.” Apple Bloom waddled over to the wide-eyed little monster and stood by his side. “He’s no trouble.”
Dinky cocked her head. So much for setting the mood, she thought. The others stood up, tensed as though ready to bolt. To these, Apple Bloom shook a dismissive hoof.
“He’s a dragon!” said Piña. She chewed the inside of her mouth. “Er,” she added.
“Isn’t he?” said Odd Job.
Only then did Dinky notice the flashlight clutched in the dragon’s hand.
“Huh,” said the little dragon. “I wondered what the noise was.”
“Gals,” said Apple Bloom proudly. “This is Spike. He’s with Twilight Sparkle.”
One by one, the gals unwound and stepped closer.
“You mean,” said Dinky, acting as sheepishly as seemed right for the role, “he’s not – Sorry.” She turned to Spike. “You’re not going to… to breathe fire on us?”
“Or eat us up?” said Alula, genuinely sheepish.
“Or capture us, lock us in a tall tower, and tell any knights who want us to come and fight you to the death?” said Piña hopefully.
“Who, me?” Spike shrugged. “Why would I do that? That wouldn’t be very friendly.”
“‘Cause you’re a dragon,” said Odd Job with the air of one playing checkmate.
“So?” Apple Bloom drew herself up in a sterling imitation of her older siblings about to deliver a dressing-down. “Spike may be a dragon on the outside, but on the inside he’s just like you an’ me. He’s only a kid. An’ he ain’t never set no ponies on fire, neither.”
“Uh, that’s right,” said Spike. “Not on purpose, anyway. Sorry, what’s going on, exactly?”
Finally, Dinky’s trusty mind leaped forwards to meet Apple Bloom’s. She stepped forwards and gripped Spike’s free hand between her hooves.
“Oh, a pleasure to meet you, Lord Spike!” she said, winking. “But if you’re not the evil dragon, then you must be the knight in shining armour.”
“I must?” Spike looked himself down.
“Well, of course. With those armoured scales. And that tail like a sword.”
“A knight, huh?” Something heroic gleamed in Spike’s eye; Dinky knew how to build on that. “Yeah, I guess I kind of am.”
“And so, so heroic,” she said proudly, “that he won’t tattle to his dark mistress on a bunch of poor, frightened, helpless maidens, wink wink.”
“I sure wouldn’t want to fight you,” said Alula. “Not that I couldn’t win, I mean.”
“Oaoahw! That means I can be the pretty princess!” said Piña excitedly. “Oh, I’ve always wanted someone to fight to the death over me! This is the greatest quest ever!”
“Ahem!” said Odd Job sharply. “I thought I was the princess! I wanted to be the princess before you did!”
Up till now, Spike’s puzzled gaze went back and forth like a genial tennis ball, but this time he raised his voice like a rising net full of massive gaps and tangled mix-ups. “I’m sorry, it’s too early, don’t get me wrong, I’m OK and all, but… but who are you again? What’s with all this knights and princesses and maidens and stuff? What are you doing in the library at one ‘o’ clock in the morn–?”
There was a shuffling from upstairs, and then the thump of four feet.
Spike stiffened at once. “Oh boy. Now you’ve done it. Twilight’s woken up!”
“Well, that ain’t so bad, ain’t it?” said Apple Bloom, looking up the stairs. “She knows me.”
“Ooh, ooh, can we meet her?” said Alula.
“Yes, we were supposed to find the volcano witch, after all,” said Dinky. “To get the volcano rocket spell.”
“Forget the witch! I wanna meet the new Canterlot pony!” said Piña. “Can we meet her? Can we meet her?”
Alone of the group, Odd Job gave a strangled cry. The others looked round at her, to meet a face bulging with alarm.
“No, no, no, no, no…” she kept murmuring.
Dinky raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t be caught out after dark!” hissed Odd Job. “If Golden Harvest found out I was ruining my sleep, she’d bring the hammer down! I’d have to do extra chores! Extra chores! For a month! And she’d sigh at me! And she’d pity me! And she’d start getting all guilty and unhappy! You know what that’s like!?”
Clopping hooves upstairs began to descend. Someone mumbled in the gloom.
Suddenly, meeting one of the most powerful unicorns in the world no longer held the same allure for the fillies. They were thinking: She can do magic. She’s a Canterlot pony. She’s not going to like little girls breaking in. She might not settle for just telling our sisters.
Piña, for one, was still locked in fairy tale thoughts. “She’ll turn us into frogs!”
“Or make us her prisoners!” Alula looked around, panicking. “I can’t go to jail yet! I need a cool tattoo first! We’ve gotta hide!”
“If Golden Harvest finds out… I can’t face her like this…”
They all fell silent when Spike cleared his throat. If nothing else, none of them had heard a baby dragon clear his throat before.
“Sir Spike, at your service,” he whispered, but grandly.
Hastily, he gestured towards a doorway on their left. The fillies nodded. They dived inside, drawing it shut, but – unable to resist – Dinky left a slight crack so they could peer through it.
Just in time to see a dark figure enter the room.
“This is stupid,” whispered Apple Bloom moodily. “Twilight’s all right.”
“Shh,” hissed Dinky. “You want to tell her you broke into her library? See how long she stays ‘all right’?”
“Well, now you mention it…”
Outside, they stared at the unicorn looking around. Dinky thought, That is our witch.
She’d met Twilight before, on one of those trips to Canterlot which, as a collective, had blurred in her mind into one vague experience. It was hard to remember if she – Dinky – had come from Canterlot to visit Ponyville, or if she had come from Ponyville to visit Canterlot. She’d just remembered the boundless joy of being with her family wherever.
In any case… To her, Twilight had been a distant royal colour with a mane so square it was practically geometry. Yet that was merely how she appeared on the very surface. Deep behind that unicorn face and deep within that unicorn chest flowed the blood of the genuine Canterlot pony, proud and hungry and wearing the world like an expensive coat. She oozed with intelligence, the sort to remind Dinky that, however many dozens of books she herself had read, she was but a filly, standing at the reception of a vast library of shelves stretching off to the horizon.
What she’d never seen was Twilight with a bedhead.
It was quite a sight.
“She’s so beautiful,” breathed Alula.
Necks shifted turning to look at her.
“What?” hissed Alula. “I can like beautiful things!”
“Oh, nothing,” whispered Apple Bloom. “Princess Erroria, wasn’t it?”
“I told you –”
The others shushed Alula hastily.
Dinky sniffed. She knew Alula had only said that because she, Alula, already knew Twilight was a Canterlot type. Otherwise, as far as beauty went, Twilight really wasn’t much of a knockout.
Still, Dinky herself couldn’t take her eyes off that unicorn’s horn. How much power lurked in there? How much of a very different kind of knockout?
Twilight yawned. They heard her mumble, “Spike? I thought I heard voices?”
They held their breaths. The moment of truth. Spike: evil dragon or knight in shining armour?
That night, Spike earned his knighthood. “Sorry I woke you up, Twilight. I must’ve sleepwalked, and when I came to, I tripped over my own feet.”
“Huh. And the open cupboard door over there?”
“Me sleep-eating. It happens. Sorry.”
“And the voices?”
“Me… sleep-acting?”
“What, again?”
They couldn’t see Twilight’s face, but they didn’t need to. They could practically hear the skeptical eyebrow rise.
After the room held its breath, they heard Twilight tut at him. “Spike, I’ve told you about drinking coffee before bed. The caffeine makes you restless.”
And now the brave Sparky, hiding from the terrible witch, plots to steal her magic in the name of the quest!
Guided by the thin trickle of light from beyond, Dinky glanced around the space she found herself in. Nothing but books, books, and more books presented themselves.
She reached out, grinning… and then remembered herself. She was not Sparky, not this time. She was Dinky.
For once, the image of Derpy and Amethyst hovered before her.
She hated it when they did that.
She lowered her hoof with a sigh.
No. I can’t steal a library book. Anything but a library book. Not from a fellow bookworm.
“Although,” said Spike, speaking in the slow tones of one making it up as he goes along, “I think I did hear a noise just now.”
The fillies stopped breathing. Funny, Dinky thought, how you don’t hear some sounds until they stop.
“Where?” said Twilight.
Spike pointed… at a spot opposite the hiding place. “Over there. Maybe a book fell out.”
Twilight followed his pointing claw. Once she disappeared from the fillies’ line of sight, Spike – without looking round – beckoned to the hiding fillies and then pointed emphatically towards the front door far behind.
“It’s just around there somewhere,” he continued, slipping a key off the hook with his tail. The pointed tip curled, sliding the key over to the five fillies.
Thank goodness for Alula’s bravery. The pegasus slipped out first, followed by Apple Bloom’s careful creep. Dinky poked her head out to check on Twilight, who headed towards an alcove off to the side.
“Where?” Twilight said, peering into said alcove.
Please don’t look round. Please don’t look round. Slowly as possible, Dinky levitated the key. Beside her, Odd Job guided a shaking Piña by the hoof. Only once the two of them were clear did Dinky slink after them. Last place. Riskiest place.
“There! No, up there! I thought I saw something!” Sidelong, Spike whispered through his teeth, “Bring the key back in the morning.”
Dinky nodded. She slipped the key into the lock. Hoping it wouldn’t creak, she twisted.
It creaked.
Spike hastily yawned and hurried over to Twilight, grabbing her head before it could turn around, forcing it up to stare at a random spot.
“No,” he said with well-acted impatience. “I said it’s there!” His tail flicked frantically at the fillies in a clear “go away” gesture.
“I’m sorry, Spike. I still don’t see anything…”
All five of them pulled the door back. Then, without waiting for a breath, they rushed out. Dinky eased the door shut after them.
Cool night air greeted them. The empty moon smiled down upon them. Cottages slumbered, waiting for the library’s lights to switch off too. Muffled voices, a click of the light switch: they got their wish.
The Sisterhooves Sisters sighed with collective relief.
Now that the shock had worn off, Dinky giggled to herself. “We got the key! The magical key to unlocking the secrets of space travel!”
The others took it with considerably less grace.
“Ah think that’s enough adventurin’ for one night,” said Apple Bloom.
“Pretty fun, though, Sparky,” said Alula. “I thought I’d faint when Twilight came down the stairs.”
“Sis is gonna kill me,” moaned Odd Job. “I shouldn’t have come out like this. Sis is gonna kill me.”
Piña licked her lips. “So now we have cookies?”
“Ah’m headin’ home. This was… Ah dunno. Ah hope Applejack don’t ask too many questions about milk or nothin’.”
The others shrugged. All in all, or so seemed to be the consensus, tonight had been interesting but dangerou– too overlong. A lot of fake yawns punctuated their verdicts.
They found the pail of milk in its hiding place and drank some of it, at least until they complained of bellyaches. Some still sloshed in the bottom. Since it’d go off unless drunk, Piña demanded the pail so her sister could freeze it for another day, interrupted by Apple Bloom demanding the pail back before daybreak, else Applejack would skin her alive. Alula and Odd Job left groaning and clutching their stomachs.
All this passed on automatic through Dinky’s consciousness, vanishing as soon as it was done. Dinky’s adventure faded into her memories as a completed task, the cover of the book closing with a final slam.
She’d seen Twilight. The new Twilight, here in Ponyville. A noble soul taking on the humble life. After all, Ponyville was definitely a rural place. Well, one with a bowling alley. And an arcade. And a general hospital. And a hydro-magical dam which provided power for all those magically charged metal technologies across town –
Yes, but apart from that, it was rural in spirit.
Which meant it was an ideal place for a hero to hide and be humble before the epic quests came calling.
A hero who’d already vanquished the Mare in the Moon: Nightmare Moon. And rescued a princess: the Princess Luna herself! Dinky had seen it! Bits of it. Enough of it, anyway, and her mind had made up the rest.
Hmm…
Dinky thought a lot about stories. She thought about them all the way home.