She didn't know when their normal lives would end.
When it came to missions, the Bearers seldom got much in the way of advance notice. In the typical best case, there would be just about enough time to pack something: more frequent examples had the palace promising to have somepony fetch their personal belongings later. (This was something which always pained Rarity, both from the intrusion on her privacy and the persistent belief that nopony else would be capable of working out what her ideal situational wardrobe would be.) A few adventures had started with the group going out their respective doors with whatever they were wearing or, for six out of the seven, usually weren't. And on the rare occasion when they did have a few hours to work things out...
Twilight was aware that it was possible for a mission to suffer from overplanning, and was still trying to work out a rather complicated system for potentially dealing with that. If she was using Dragon Mountain as an example... well, there had admittedly been a number of mistakes made there, most of which she'd only recognized upon seeing what everypony else considered to be proper preparations. Twilight might not have bothered to consult what she'd expected to be fully useless advice from the Archives, but at least she'd thought to bring a map. As opposed to fur-staining dyes, a broad-brimmed hat (which had admittedly given a lightly-smirking Rarity some eye protection as they'd gone up the Sun-lit side), and the hoofball helmet which Fluttershy had pressed into service for about ten seconds. And once she considered Pinkie's idea of supplies...
You could overthink a mission or at least, you could think about it in the wrong ways. Instead of considering how to deal with the danger, it was possible to get stuck on the danger itself. The consequences of it. Knowing that lives were potentially at risk, you were surrounded by those you cared about most, every decision you made might affect them first and if that decision was the wrong one, then...
...there were a lot of disadvantages to starting a mission immediately, but Twilight had found doing so gave her that much less time for picturing the deaths.
They seldom got preparation time for missions and when they did, there was always a deadline: things begin at this hour with or without you and since it's generally essential to assemble the entire set, it had better be 'with'. But with this... Twilight didn't know when they were going to leave. The destination might be known within hours. Or there could potentially be moons of waiting, hoping somepony could find any clue as to where they were supposed to go, constantly trying to see things in new ways until even inner sight blurred and imagination produced nothing more than washed-out grey. More missions would probably intrude during that period: working for the palace while waiting to work for the palace. And even when they got home, there would be no true rest, no resumption of the self-imposed illusion: that they were normal mares in a normal world, who could freely go back to their day jobs while planning meals, drop-bys, get-togethers and parties. Perhaps they would never be called again...
It was an illusion which not even Applejack would allow herself to inspect too closely, lest she decide it was a lie. It also felt like the only way any of them could truly live. There had to be a time for normalcy: to rest, recover, go through all the little events which came with friendships. Because if they couldn't pretend they were normal, that they were in so many ways ordinary mares whose everyday lives and bonds were the most precious thing...
You couldn't chose not to save the world, because nopony could count on the world to save itself. But when you limped back in the small hours, forcing yourself to move forward under Moon towards the warm bed which had served as a soul's beacon... you could choose to be a librarian.
Twilight didn't know when the mission would begin. But there was part of her which hoped it happened fairly soon. No more than a week before they set out; not just so they could discover what had happened to the stallion and ensure it never happened to anypony else, but to cut short the time of forever-building dread. Something which never seemed to reach a peak.
She couldn't say she was used to it. (She didn't want to be.) But at least she had experience with that level of stress, and had even found (occasional) ways to channel it once the group reached their destination. Every Bearer understood that emotion, and she loathed herself for having put Spike through it over and over again. When it came to their first --
second
-- first recruit...
She glanced to her left as the group moved through Vanhoover's chill streets. The population was giving them some distance, because there was a ruling Princess among them and while having two alicorns in a small area would have normally seemed to double the pull for ponies who felt that the solution to all of their problems could be found at the intersection of wings and horn, Celestia had requested that the population give them some distance. It had created a virtual, mobile shield bubble: nopony approached -- but there was a living border about fifteen body lengths away, and it moved with them. All they were doing was heading for the city's main gatehouse, and more than a hundred ponies kept pace just so they could say they'd once seen that happen.
Celestia was accustomed to the weight of those stares. Applejack bore a traveling stance which suggested fur had hardened into armor, and gazes broke themselves against her flanks. Spike was huddled low against the old mare's neck, soaking up as much warmth as he could: he barely noticed anypony looking at all. Twilight longed for the ability to deal with all of it, and then tried to discard it because that desire would only lead into wishes which would never be fulfilled. But on Twilight's left...
The showmare's cape didn't swish as she moved: it slashed at the air. Only so much to each side, and then it came curling back in, cutting atmosphere in half along the way as a punishment for having dared to approach her.
By contrast, the tail was just about still. A flicking tail was the sign of an upset pony: lashing indicated anger. The streaked fall was being held a little higher than usual, and the only motions came from wind and a subtle, constant shifting of hips. She was a showmare, she considered herself to be an attractive one, and as long as ponies were going to be staring at her on the way out, she had very few issues in giving them something to look at. And the hat had been left in the caravan, all the better to let observers see how the posture of pride allowed an exposed horn to stand out that much more.
Trixie moved at Twilight's side, in the company of two Bearers, a dragon, and a ruling Princess, as if it was something she did every day. The route was new to her, and yet she trotted along as if she'd always known it, keeping the pace --
-- no. Keeping the lead.
It was Celestia who was guiding them back. But Trixie was never caught looking at the oldest alicorn, seemed to be matching pace and direction on hearing alone (not that her ears ever visibly moved), and she was still always at least two hoofwidths in front of the group. As if they were part of her retinue.
There were ways in which it was an amazing performance, and none of them made it any less annoying.
The hollow structure of the gatehouse offered a moment of true privacy. Celestia used it.
"I may not be able to bring the caravan before Sun-lowering," she told them, shifting to face the mares as a group. "I'll get you all into Ponyville, but after that, there are things I need to do in the palace." The little snorts were gone now, the foreleg gestures absent -- but there was still a slight touch of the mare in her voice. "And I mean beyond making a token appearance in the name of calming the Guards."
"Calming the Guards," Twilight repeated, mostly for lack of other options.
"They knew I was going to Ponyville, and that I would be in the company of Bearers. I told them that was sufficient protection." The right side of the mare's mouth quirked up. "They're not always happy about that. For some reason, they're convinced the lot of you are trouble." She glanced down at Applejack. "So I'm going to take you back first, as promised. After that, I'll bring the rest of you to the tree. But I need to check on the palace's end of the investigation: see if there's been any progress made. And there are duties beyond that. So if you don't see the caravan during the day, know I'll have it on library grounds before Sun is raised tomorrow. As for updating everypony about anything we've learned -- we need to learn something first, and then I'll get the information to you as quickly as I can." Her horn ignited, and a wreath of sunlight gently lowered Spike to the somewhat dusty floor. "I'm trusting you'll do the same."
The little dragon nodded. Celestia backed up a little, gave herself room to reorient the huge body without colliding with anypony and turned until she was standing next to Applejack.
"When are you going to brief the others?" the Princess asked, and waited.
Normal lives...
"Is there any chance we'll leave today?" Twilight checked. If nothing else, it would mean a minimal build time for the anxiety. Her pacing groove probably wouldn't have the chance to become more than two hoofheights deeper.
"Not a strong one," the Princess admitted. "It's not impossible, but I'm not expecting things to come together that quickly. We're probably looking at a day or two before we can even make a good guess at where to send you, and I'm not going to move on a guess unless there's no other choice."
The little mare managed a nod. "Then I'll call them to the tree tonight."
Let them work.
Let them play.
Let them live in a world where marks don't evaporate.
"Ah'll hold off until then," Applejack assured them. "Wasn't plannin' t' see anypony today anyway. Got a time in mind, Twi? Saves a scroll if'fin y'tell me now."
And let them have dinner, because there isn't that much in the kitchen.
"Three hours after Sun-lowering."
Applejack nodded, as did the Princess. There was a flash --
"I'll need to see your notes," Trixie told much emptier air, head still held high. "And get a look at the device fragment."
"We can do that --"
-- which was when it occurred to her that Trixie was about to be in the tree. A mare with whom all research exchange and advancement had required dragon-fueled correspondence would be within hoofwidths.
She'd seen diagrams on the caravan's ceiling which seemed worthy of discussion, especially as one of them had incorporated a few aspects of the Question: that would be a good opener, or at least a change of pace for when they'd just gone over the notes too many times and needed a refreshing change of subject. Plus Celestia had said the notebooks might be mailed to Trixie's storage unit, but she'd never said anything about sending all of them. It might just wind up as the full ones. She'd never seen the raw pages for any of Trixie's notebooks, and with a mare whose talent was for innovation --
-- she's going to be in the tree. In the tree. We can compare formulae. There was that theory she had about corona angling: that's got to be at least three hours of discussion before she leaves. And I still need to see the exoteleport in action. A few times. Maybe a few dozen. We could do so much!
"You're vibrating," the showmare observed. "Sort of -- wriggling. You're that cold?"
Because when it isn't scrolls and it's just talking, we can talk as much as we want about magic and possibilities and the dreams she has just about every night, because that's when her talent really goes to work! I could even watch her while she sleeps. Not to feel when her talent starts channeling, because that's probably too subtle to pick up. But everypony knows the best time to remember a dream is right after it finishes. So I can wake her at the instant her eyes stop moving behind the lids, we'll write everything down and then she can go back to sleep. I'm sure interrupted sleep is fine as long as we keep it to a few nights.
...I'll have to stay up in order to catch her at the right moment.
For a few nights.
Maybe after the mission ends. I can probably talk her into staying around for a few extra days, just to work on things because she's going to be in the tree instead of on the road all the time, when she never, ever comes back to --
Casually, "You're not wriggling any more."
-- comes... back...
And now there was a somewhat different note in the showmare's voice. "Something wrong with your tail?"
Naturally, her brother had already picked up on it. "Twilight, whatever you're thinking of --"
...she's going to be in the tree.
The tree is in --
-- this could be a problem...
"Trixie?" The showmare glanced in her general direction, and then finally looked down. "If the Princess brings us back outside the library?" Which was very possible, because Celestia took up a lot of space and the library didn't offer very much of it. "Get inside. Fast. I'll work the locks for you. Actually, I'm just going to ask for the balcony --"
"-- Twilight?" It was the first time her sibling had spoken in chorus with the showmare, and it would not be the last.
"-- and maybe she can do an extra-bright flash. Not just the teleport: something she lets go as soon as we're out of the between again. We'll close our eyes. Oh, Discord's paw, if we can just get lucky enough to have nopony flying by --"
"-- Twilight," the showmare carefully asked, "exactly what are you going on about --"
There was a single instant where it was possible to see grey-tinged violet widening, just before eyelids winced shut and skin began to pale under blue fur.
Spike, caught between fading warmth and chill realization, began to shiver. His sibling quickly followed suit.
"-- oh," Trixie softly said. "Oh. Right."
There were many things to be said about a normal life and when it came to Twilight, very few of them were said by Ponyville residents because nopony really expected her to have one. Just for starters, the library had posted operating hours and as far as the settled zone was concerned, the main reason they were posted was because when you had a really good running joke, somepony needed to write it down. Spike had placed a Temporarily Closed notice on the doors just before heading out for the Acres: the dubious benefit of experience. But when it came to how the town saw it... their librarian had a number of demands on her time, some of them were rather important and if any happened to be crucial, then the palace would send in a substitute who would keep to the schedule with dedication, devotion, and the occasional insistence on closing at the exact second.
Having predictable access to books was seen by the majority of settled zones as a casual privilege and if that access was offered by anypony other than Twilight, Ponyville tended to treat it as the signal to Start Worrying Now. Every scheduled trip out of town had to be accompanied by a fleet of public postings on the town's notice boards, and if she ever tried to take an actual vacation --
-- anyway, the rather dubious benefit was that just about anypony who'd been in town for over a moon tended to treat the library's posted operating hours as a frequently-ignored suggestion. Nopony really questioned why the tree was closed at odd times because the usual answer was 'Twilight,' there was the option to invoke a subset of 'Bearers' and if you looked too far beyond that, the question of 'Run?' might begin to arise, generally at high speeds.
So the library was closed when a flash of bright light brought the travelers back to Ponyville, and the fact that it had been closed for a few hours meant nopony was in range when the second flash went off. After that, getting inside was just a matter of indecently hasty corona fumbling. Spike went outside just long enough to post a sign which announced the library was closed for the rest of the day due to Not An Emergency So Please Don't Do Anything Stupid, then plopped himself down in front of a self-started fire and didn't move for a while. Twilight gave him an hour before gently asking if he was up to sending the scrolls out: one carefully-worded group for her friends, and then a single missive to the Canterlot Archives because an hour had been long enough to discover that when it came to the manifestation of real talents from false marks, the tree didn't have enough on Cutie Pox.
(Four of the scrolls had been precisely lacking in details beyond 'discussion of upcoming mission tonight', because she wanted them to have a normal day. The one for the Acres desperately asked its recipient to hold back one thing until Twilight had the chance to announce it herself.)
The mares conducted a mutual raid of the refrigerator, followed by drawing up a very long list of everything required to make sure the next attempt at conquest would find enough to justify the effort. This was sent to Barnyard Bargains, and ended with a request to drop everything off at the back door. Discussions began, along with the review of notes. After a few minutes, they moved it into better lighting. Then they further moved it away from all sources of natural light, which were fading quickly anyway as the pegasi brought the clouds in, and if you could see pegasi bringing clouds in...
Eventually, they wound up in the basement. The basement had several things to recommend it. For starters, Trixie didn't get access to that kind of equipment on the road. With no current need for photo development, the sub-level was well-lit. It was warm. Quite a few of Twilight's personal notebooks were down there.
And there weren't any windows.
There would be a mission: that was all she had told them in the summons. Beyond that, four of her friends still thought it was a normal day, which became a normal night, which included a perfectly-normal weather schedule. It just so happened that Twilight had completely forgotten about that last part, while the snow hadn't forgotten about anypony.
"Not that I blame you, dear," Rarity declared, flakes transferring from hind hoof to wood as she nudged the door closed behind her. "At any rate, I did wish to give this particular jacket a test under suitable conditions."
A brief flare of soft blue moved the plush hood back, and a thin layer of caked white immediately slumped from lining to floor.
Both mares looked at it for a few seconds.
"Cinching would seem to be required," the designer decided. "Regretfully, the actual adjustment may need to wait until I return home." With hopes so faint as to require their own couch, "Unless you have failed to use the latest emergency sewing kit in an experiment?"
"The thread was fine enough to --" was the launching point for the typical argument, and Twilight's wince cut the rest off before it could emerge. "-- sorry. I'm sorry, Rarity, and I'm sorry for everypony having to come here in the snow. You're half-covered already!"
"Perhaps not quite," said a mare who rather decidedly wasn't Honesty, and did so while her tail arced itself over a nearby bin and waited for everything coating it to slide. "The storm has yet to reach full strength. And in any case --"
"-- Applejack and Fluttershy have the longest trips, they're going to be soaked, and teleporting anypony home in the snow --"
"-- I'm sure Spike would be willing to light a lovely fire for us. And we could shelter here overnight if necessary, Twilight. I doubt such will be required, however. The schedule has dictated the first truly major storm for -- eight days off, was it not? While naturally declining to send out any weather team members to offer assistance with the subsequent plowing..." With a slight shrug, "There are actually a surprising number of ponies out and about tonight. They simply enjoy the chill, I suppose. For some reason. Now where is Spike? Tucked safely inside, one would hope, and well away from any chill emanating from the windows."
"In the lab," Twilight told her. "We're going to have the meeting there. He's already started the fire."
The designer briefly frowned. "Slightly unusual -- but it is your home. Did you clean out the lower flue?"
Rarity often served as a supervisory elder sibling to the other Bearers: the problem was that she knew it. "Last week."
"Good. And how is your current blanket supply, should we all in fact remain here for the evening?" With just a touch of haste, "Without makeovers. Or party games, no matter what Pinkie might insist: unless this mission intrudes, I have work to do in the morning. And of course, we will have to find a means of determining who gets your guest bed." The white head automatically began to tilt up, with visible intent towards checking the accommodations. "Did you happen to replace that mattress --"
-- a flare of pinkish light blazed around Twilight's horn, and her field instinctively lanced forward.
"-- Twilight?" The word was slightly muffled.
Carefully, "...yes?"
"Is there a reason for you to have just pulled down on my snout?"
"...trying to tilt some extra snow out of your mane before it melted," offered a mare who also wasn't Honesty while lacking the same level of skill at being its opposite.
Don't look up.
Don't look up.
You already looked up a little.
Please don't have seen the lump under the blankets.
The lump with a point on it.
"You don't want wet hair," Twilight tried. "And fur. Together. That would be bad."
Rarity looked at her for a few seconds. Just... looked.
"Very well," the designer eventually said. "I appreciate your concern towards my comfort. Which will hopefully include -- letting go? Ah. Yes, thank you. And since the fire awaits..."
Twilight moved with her toward the basement doors, opened them. Rarity peered down the ramp.
"I see the fire," the designer announced. "And snacks. Along with a number of cushions to rest upon. Excellent."
The librarian nodded.
Another moment passed, as blue eyes continued to stare towards the designated briefing area.
"I also see multiple empty buckets and troughs of water. Are you that concerned about your suppression system?"
The resulting silence echoed, and only ended when the little mare began to wonder if it was enough to let pony ears pick up on blanket-muffled breathing.
"No."
"Then why --"
"-- because I know what I have to tell you," Twilight sighed. "And the cushions aren't just for resting. That group is yours. The one with the blue pile off to the side."
Openly wary, as that had been earned, "Because...?"
Twilight didn't answer. She simply led the way and after a moment, Rarity followed.
Because you usually faint to the left.
By the time she finished, two of the buckets were partially full.
"I'm sorry," she told them, looking around the little semi-circle from her position on the curve: the one furthest from the fire. It gave her the best view of the group, it also permitted her to watch the ramp, and... all things considered, the basement was warm enough. The fire was blazing merrily in the lower hearth, because it had no means of comprehending the things which had just been said. Her friends brought their own warmth into the space. (Rainbow had the highest body temperature: natural for a pegasus.) But when it came to how she truly felt... she had asked them to come through snow and chill. They had more of a right to the heat than she did, and -- she had also known what she had to tell them.
There was warmth in the basement: some from pony and dragon bodies, more from the fire, with a little generated by distant lab equipment. But Twilight had spoken of the stallion (and little else, for a crucial detail had to be postponed for just a bit longer). For four of them, the true chill was settling within.
Rarity had just finished rinsing out her mouth. Fluttershy was tucked into a tight curl of shivering life. Pinkie's entire body had gone tense: form motionless, curls vibrating as if looking for a place to ground their charge. Applejack, who'd had the most time to adjust, was simply waiting. Spike was moving around the group, checking on each mare in turn. And Rainbow's posture was almost casual, nothing more than visible anticipation of the next words while wondering why the last ones had needed to take so long -- right up until Twilight noticed the movement of the prismatic tail.
It was tucked against Rainbow's right hip. Then it shifted, allowing the long hairs to coat the left. And then it shifted back, and it moved again, and it did all of it at a speed which was designed not to draw too much notice, something so unlike Rainbow -- but Twilight had seen it.
"So when do we go?" the pegasus demanded. "Because we've gotta go. If there was ever anything which meant we had to get out there, anything ever, more than Discord --" followed by, because it had been a few years, "-- sorry, Fluttershy -- and eternal night and every other bucking thing, this is the one. I can be ready to head out in --"
Her tail shifted again, and did the job which its owner had asked it to perform. But the weather coordinator lacked the sheer spread of Fluttershy's coral fall, the bound thickness of Applejack's blonde strands.
"-- five minutes! Maybe three! I'm not gonna say ten seconds because I've got to get Tank's stuff together and make sure his terrarium has a good host, but if I push it --"
And no matter what she tried, she could only cover a single mark at once.
"-- I don't know, Rainbow," Twilight wearily said. (Her field began to collect buckets, moving them towards the lab's waste disposal area. It was sometimes possible to pick up the texture of an enclosed object through a field, and she was trying her best to avoid that. Having her snout register the smell was bad enough.) "The Princess has her staff researching, trying to find some clue as to where it happened. I told you --"
"-- but you've got to have an idea!" The prismatic strands allowed themselves one lash before moving back to the guard position. "Even if there's nothing official --"
Twilight shook her head, and the fuming pegasus dropped onto her cushions.
Rarity was watching her bucket float away.
"I'm sorry --"
The designer slowly shook her head. "There was no way to prepare us for that," she softly stated. "Any of it. Any warning you could have given beyond the one you offered at the start, that it might be the worst thing we had ever heard -- worse than what we listened to during that hideous conference -- would have required details -- oh, thank you, Spike, but the water I have left is sufficient -- and any details..."
She shuddered. Scales gently touched the purple mane, adjusted a few of the curls, and the little dragon moved on.
"In the best case," the unicorn decided, "it is an allergen. We identify the trigger, and do so while utilizing protection. Transport it to the doctors, so that they might find a cure. Or simply set the infecting species ablaze --"
Which was when Fluttershy looked up, and the lone visible eye was wet.
"-- my apologies," Rarity immediately offered. "I realize that it is not your nature to consider extinction as an option --"
"...it..." The caretaker swallowed. "...this time... if it's an animal, something with a poison that... and he just... I don't know, Rarity. I don't know what depends on that animal being alive. It's the same for a plant. Sometimes, pulling out one thing leaves a whole little piece of the world crashing into the center hole. But at the very least, we have to know what it is. How it happens. And if it's a monster, or a spell, or..."
The shapely form shivered again.
"...a disease can go extinct," she whispered. "A disease doesn't have a purpose. And for monsters... there's a few which are part of the world, in their way. Others aren't. It's just..." A slow breath. "...I'm scared."
Curls slowed in their vibration, and a pink form which had only lost a little hue began to push itself up. Moving to comfort. "I know, Fluttershy," the baker offered. "I know --"
"...and -- I'm not the only one this time... am I?"
The eldest of the hybrids slowly looked around the circle, and found every other mare looking back.
"I've been scared for two days," Twilight quietly offered. "I didn't sleep all that well, and when I did..." The sigh felt as if it had just barely cleared her lungs. "We might all need Luna tonight. I'm just hoping she'll be there." The younger of the Diarchy had to know by now.
Unless I'm not the only pony who doesn't get told things --
"It's my mark," Rainbow fiercely declared, just as her tail twisted again. "I got the first mark. I got the mark which led to everypony else's marks. Nopony touches my mark. Not again."
"Rainbow --" Because some apologies were automatic, and a few felt as if they could never be said enough.
"-- you didn't know, Twilight! Same for a stupid disease or allergen, or a dumb monster with poison! They don't know!" The left forehoof slammed into a cushion, which failed to respect the effort. "But if this is something which got done on purpose, if there's a pony or anything else out there with a spell which does this because it meant to...!"
Which was when they all heard the crackle.
Rainbow stopped. Saw the stares, identified the target, then looked at flared, shifted wings, and the arcs of static jumping between feathers.
The limbs slammed back into the rest position, and the sleek body dropped onto the cushions.
It took a few seconds before the ozone faded enough for anypony else to risk speech.
"Had some time t' think 'bout it," Applejack steadily told them. "Which jus' means Ah had the worst of it before most of you. Ah get t' look like it ain't so bad 'cause Ah've been dealin' with it second-longest. It's sunk deeper." And because dark understatement technically wasn't a lie, "Surface can look like Ah'm dealing: core ain't exactly happy."
"I believe my opinion is currently being poured into a drain," Rarity dryly said. "If I had any faith that Hoovmat suits would actually work..."
Pinkie, about halfway to Fluttershy (and cutting across the circle to get there), paused. "It's not knowing," she said. "And knowing. Put together. I think that's the worst part. Knowing what happened to him, but not why. What his mark was, but not if it was the real one. Just -- knowing something's wrong, and not knowing how wrong it is. Even when it feels like it's as wrong as it ever could be already." Hopefully, "Does that make sense?"
Twilight nodded, and was no longer surprised to find that the motion had been a gentle one.
The baker finished crossing the distance, and carefully sank down next to Fluttershy. "Maybe it's worse for us," she added. "Because we went through the switch. Did you ever notice that nopony really talks about it? Nopony except us? I tried to make a joke about it once, with one of my customers. We were having problems with one of the sinks, I was leaning over it to see if I could spot a clog, and I said I could wish to be swapped with a plumber, except I knew how well that worked out the first time. And when I looked back, Dandelion just looked really really confused. And sort of sick. Her face was all scrunched up, like she was trying to remember something she didn't know..."
"The spell confused memories," Twilight reminded them. "For just about everypony in town. I'm not sure how much anypony retained after it broke." She'd had moons in which to test, and... she hadn't wanted to. She knew what the working had done. She was never going to cast it again. Nopony would ever cast it again --
-- unless that's part of what happened to him.
She sighed.
"I think we kept the most because we were the targets," Twilight reluctantly decided. "But we may need to find out what everypony else remembers, if that's anything at all. Because we can't be sure that spell wasn't involved."
Spike returned to his place, carefully sat down. His tail swayed a little, and walking claws curled inward.
The movement caught his sister's attention. "I don't want you to feel like we're leaving you out." Because that had happened too many times before. "If there's anything you want to say --"
His right hand came up, and the motion stopped her. Made all of them wait, as he covered his eyes for a moment, slowly lowered his arm again. And when the words emerged, they did so with the weight of lead.
"I don't know how much I can say."
"Spike?" From Rarity, because she'd been just a little quicker. "You should always feel as if you are free to speak --"
"-- it's marks," the little dragon quietly broke in. "I told Twilight earlier: that I'm scared for you, for everypony. It makes me sick, thinking about what could happen. But..." and now his hands were clasped, fingers wringing against each other. "...it's not me, is it? It can't be me. It's never..."
He stopped. Looked down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time, and then pried them apart. Glanced up again.
"If we find something which might be doing it," he announced, "I handle it. Nopony touches it. We don't even use fields to move it unless we have to, just in case. Because it can't hurt me."
Fluttershy moved her face away from Pinkie's dampened fur, looked up.
"...and if it does something to dragons?"
Far too evenly, "Then I'm the protector. That's my risk."
Twilight stared at her sibling.
How long do dragons live?
How quickly do they grow up?
How fast am I forcing him to --
"We've gotta be careful 'bout what we say t' ponies here," Applejack's voice stepped into the silence. "Ah'm hopin' the palace can keep the reins on, 'cause we don't need this gettin' out into the open. If anything's gonna cause a panic, it's ponies thinkin' 'bout this. Don't want word goin' any further than it has. Agreed?"
The group nodded, and the blonde tail flicked.
"One more thing," the farmer added. "Ah ain't tellin' Scootaloo. Not until Ah have to. She got enough quizzin' by law enforcement before the warrants went out. Don't want t' get her hopes up, 'cause hope without a good reason, as long as she's been waitin' -- that's its own kind of torture. She's barely settlin' in as-is, an' she don't always stay that way for long." A faint shudder rippled across the muscular form. "If'fin she knew we might be tryin' to find her parents, an' that was all she knew -- she'd try t' come with. Y'know that. Might even try t' go out on her own, get ahead. She can know we've got a mission comin' up, an' she might have t' talk some, try t' remember more than she ever has. But there's a risk, an' we've gotta keep it down." Looking around the circle, with green eyes fierce. "Keep her here, where she's safe. Y'all hear me?"
Nopony risked anything beyond a base nod, and the earth pony's hackles slowly sank back down.
"Are there any questions?" Twilight eventually asked, then ruefully added "I probably can't answer them..."
"Not at this time," Rarity replied. "At least, not that I wish to risk without a night of rest and a fresh bucket." The others agreed.
Applejack's looking at me.
I know it's time. You don't have to look at me like that.
...maybe if we all have some juice first. They might be happier after juice...
She took a breath.
They would never be that happy.
"Then there's one more thing I have to tell everypony," Twilight reluctantly announced. "We're... getting some help."
"I'm glad," Pinkie smiled. "I think we need it this time! Not that we haven't all been pretty good at this! When you take out the mistakes. And the bad decisions. And some of the stuff we shouldn't have done. But even if it usually works out, having the palace actually helping us can't be anything but good! I just don't want the Princesses coming along, because if it's their marks --"
"-- no." Because it was usually best to stop Pinkie before she got too far in and besides, the thought of having it happen to the sisters was already going to be in Twilight's nightscape. "Somepony else."
"Assigned by the palace?" Rarity inquired.
"...yes," was temporarily safe.
"Due to special circumstances, no doubt," the designer decided. "Very well. The need is obviously present, and --" it was as if a dark cloud had drifted across the white fur "-- it is rather unlikely to be worse than the last time we attempted to function as a group of eight. A Guard?"
"A..."
...alcohol?
There probably isn't enough alcohol.
...all I have is rubbing alcohol. So I can wipe down the lab equipment. I barely drink...
Perfect. She's not even down here yet and I already want to start drinking.
They were waiting for her to finish.
Twilight swallowed.
"...new perspective," she managed. "We may have to think about magic in ways we've never considered before. Just for starters, about teleportation, and how that device might operate. How much it could have been involved in -- why the stallion died."
Maybe he was trying to go for help? If the device wasn't perfected, and he didn't know how it worked...
Pinkie nodded. "Somepony from the Gifted School? One of the teachers?" With open worry, "I know it wasn't the best place for you, Twilight. If it's somepony you don't like, we could just ask for --"
"-- she didn't go."
Rarity's head tilted very slightly to the left.
"A mare."
"...yes. She's..."
Work with me, saliva glands.
If I'm going to be swallowing this much, I need liquid.
If I burp in the middle of this because I swallowed too much air, I'm going to feel really stupid.
"...in the library. Right now. I asked her to wait until we finished the first part before I brought her down."
Rarity had a pleasant sort of build: something which was carefully maintained through diet and a regimen of forced-when-necessary exercise. It made it easy to tell just how slowly the unicorn's ribs were shifting.
"Do we get a name?" the designer casually inquired.
I was going to send a corona spark up and let her follow it down.
I could just teleport her in.
...I probably shouldn't teleport her in.
"I'll just -- signal her." Twilight's horn ignited: the flare of energy rushed up the ramp, paused to open the door, and lost a little cohesion as it drifted out of sight.
"Twilight," Rarity carefully said, "it is rather obvious when you are stalling --"
One gulp's worth. Just to wet my throat.
Oh, right. The water's right over there.
"Especially now," the unicorn crossly declared. "And now. Also now. That is your third mug --"
They heard the approaching hoofsteps, tentatively picking out a path. Four mares looked up, saw the door slowly open, the foreleg crossing the line --
"No."
She'd been expecting it. That there would be a protest, followed by a talk, and then they would understand. She'd even figured on denial as the first reaction and given the gathering, never seeing the protesting pony move was a reasonable prediction. Rainbow could blur her way up the ramp before anypony had a real chance to react, and Twilight had kept her field on standby accordingly.
It was just that the burst of rage had come from Pinkie.
The baker was standing again. Then she was rearing up, forelegs pawing at the air, and Twilight saw darkening fur and a fast-straightening mane, all on a sturdy body which possessed enough raw strength to beat Applejack in a fight --
"-- no! Anypony else, Twilight, anypony who might know something about magic! And I mean anypony!" Dense hooves rammed into the ground, and glass vials tumbled from their mountings as water crashed within the troughs. "Didn't Sombra invent a bunch of spells, stuff nopony else could do? Why don't we ask him for some advice?"
You didn't expect rage from Pinkie. They all knew it was possible and somehow it came across as a shock every time, to see what felt like the core of her personality invert --
"He's dead," was all Twilight could initially manage, and she could hear Trixie starting to back up, moving away from the doors. "Pinkie, he's dead --"
"-- which means he paid for what he did to the crystals! For all the horror, for the pain, for the torture! What's her price, Twilight? What did she give up for everything she did? Tell me!"
I can hear her pulling back. Her hooves skittering on the ramp.
She's going to run.
We need her.
She's my --
"-- she's on parole! Probation! One of them, maybe both! I -- Pinkie, the Princess said it's okay!" Surely that had to be the trump card in the grouping, even after all they'd seen and done. "We need her, and the Princess said she can work with us! The Princess questioned her, I told you that! She was caught after she left Ponyville, they took her to the Princess, the Amulet escapes, Pinkie, it's escaped so many times until the last one, it's taken over pony after pony, pretending it was them, warping what was supposed to be them, and the Princess gave her a chance because Trixie was the only one who didn't kill --"
"-- it wasn't for lack of trying!"
It took some time before the echoes died away: enough for Applejack to stand, for Rainbow's wings to flare again, Fluttershy was getting up and Twilight could no longer hear the skittering of hooves.
Then the galloping took over.
The showmare raced down the ramp, head lowered, cape jostled to the left side of her body by abrupt vibrations and before Twilight could focus her field, could think of anything which might have helped at all, Trixie was less than a body length away from Pinkie. Eyes wide, nostrils flared, horn lit --
"-- say that again." It had been a hiss. "Say I tried to murder somepony again. It was the --"
"-- let's start with the cart."
And from Pinkie, it had been a whisper.
Trixie froze. The grey-tinged field winked out.
"Oh," Pinkie softly said. "You remember the cart? I do. I was there for it. I was there for the first time, too. Do you know why I never said anything, the first time you came through? Because I go to a lot of shows. I'm a party planner, you know. Sometimes I hire entertainment. I'm sure you know how some of them work. They want to prove themselves to the audience, and what's better for doing that than showing up a loudmouth? So they use partners. Temporary ones, if they're traveling. You go up to somepony before the show starts, you offer them a couple of bits, they say something nasty at the right time, and you take them down a few places in the race standings. Audience plants. It's an old trick. And Spike's young, he needs the bits --"
"-- she was unbearable!" The little dragon was coming closer. "I didn't think it was stagecraft, Pinkie! She told Twilight about that in some of her letters, how she almost always gets heckled! So she had to be loud and dare ponies, to stop it! But I just thought about the worst students at the Gifted School, how they acted, and that was all I saw --"
"-- and Applejack does a lot of things if she thinks it'll be fun! She would have just told everypony it was a joke after, and we all would have laughed," stated a voice which had abandoned its Element. "But Rainbow hates looking dumb, and Rarity -- you couldn't bribe Rarity for what happened to her mane, ever --"
"-- I barely did anything!" The horn was still dark, but Trixie's eyes were narrowed, Twilight couldn't find any words and the performer was trying to fight back, fighting Pinkie, they were less than a body length apart and it was a fight. "It was misdirection! Applejack just watched the rope --"
"Ah was waitin' for something t' happen which wasn't what any unicorn could do," the farmer muttered. "Little too patient on that."
"-- and that let me get the other end around her legs! The blue one -- the pegasus -- Rainbow, that was an illusion to warp that Sun-through-water effect, and then I spun her around!"
"And that's all you did?" the weather coordinator shouted. "A spin? With everything you said up there? Any unicorn with enough power to lift me could have tried that!"
"And with the other unicorn --" Trixie's eyes briefly flicked towards Twilight "-- the -- only unicorn -- if I didn't shut her down, some other horn would have lit up! I --"
"Applejack?"
The word had been precise. Polite, and that was what stopped them. Made them look at Rarity.
"I just thought of something," the standing designer announced, and her left forehoof scraped at the floor. "After it happened, you said my mane was gorgeous. A lie?"
"...gorgeous shade," the farmer eventually managed. "Really nice green. Two kinds. Didn't say nothin' 'bout the style..."
"Ah. Thank you. Just felt a sudden need to clear that up. Trixie, dear," and now it was both forehooves, "exactly what did you do to my mane?"
"...misdirection," the showmare just barely managed. "While I was twisting it, I dropped a few chemicals in."
The designer slowly nodded. "Chemicals. Which explains why they washed out. Eventually. For those who might be wondering about my absence from the latter part of the proceedings, 'eventually' wound up with a rather large value."
"Can you back anything up?" Rainbow was in the air now, they were all getting closer to Trixie and there were so many potential ways for Twilight to try and deal with it, words and spells stretching out endlessly before her and she couldn't choose because none of them would work. "I brag about stuff I can do! Things I've done, Miss I Vanquished An Ursa --"
"-- I did!"
It froze them again.
"...details," Fluttershy softly requested.
Twilight, who had recently been in the presence of multiple anatomy charts, distantly wondered about the muscle configurations in Trixie's face. She was almost certain that pony features weren't meant to contort in that many directions at once.
The performer's head dipped.
"There was... an Ursa," Trixie told the floor. "A small one. I thought they were all that size. It fell asleep in the road. The main one leaving Hoofington. It was blocking everything. So I... got the caravan out of sight, and then I went into the bushes. I found a stick. And I poked it, from a distance, until it sort of half woke up, and it stumbled away."
I'm staring.
She knows I'm staring.
We're all staring...
"An' that," Applejack slowly tried, "is what you call 'vanquished'?"
"Nopony could leave..."
"Hoofington isn't even close to the Everfree!" Rainbow yelled. "I checked the map after!"
Which got the performer to look up again. "Well, nopony around here would have known what I was talking about if I'd said it happened in the Sheerwood! And I had the fireworks all ready to go anyway! It's about the act! I tried to tell Twilight, I wrote her about it over and over! When you're on the road, when you get heckled all the time, if everypony in every little flyspeck settled zone is going to try and prove they're better --"
"-- then when you find the one who is better," the perfectly reasonable voice of non-Laughter asked, "you look for an artifact and try to kill them with it?"
Five seconds. Five endless seconds during which nopony breathed and Twilight couldn't think.
"...I wasn't thinking straight," Trixie finally said. "I -- my mark, I -- I told the Princess, when you're always dreaming about things you can't do and there's somepony who could, I tried to live with my mark and then --"
"-- the cart," Pinkie cut her off. "The one you field-tossed. It almost landed on Shoeshine -- oh, right, that's another name you wouldn't know --"
"She tripped." It was barely a whisper. "The Amulet... I thought -- I thought I could stay on top of it. I was screaming, I was screaming from the inside, I tried to redirect the cart and --"
"Tons of snow," the baker smoothly switched. "Tons. An avalanche can --"
"That was a teleport. I couldn't do weather magic, not even with the Amulet! It doesn't have pegasus essence! I don't even know how I got that cloud when the Ursa was -- I was trying for -- I spread out the snow! The Amulet brought it, but I tried to make it into a thinner sheet! And when I saw that it could bring things, once I recovered, I reverse-thaumgineered the process --"
White fur ruffled around snorting nostrils. "Oh, very nice," Rarity sarcastically announced. "You took a near mass-burial and found a trick in it. I applaud your priorities."
The performer's head dipped again, and the streaked tail fled between her legs.
"It... it wasn't me..."
"It was certainly you who chose to look for the Amulet," Rarity stated.
Barely breathing now. "I thought I could stay on top of it -- in control --"
"-- so who was controlling it when my snout vanished?" Pinkie asked. "You didn't kill? I didn't have a mouth! I couldn't eat, I couldn't drink, I was going to die --"
The unicorn's eyes raised for the last time. "Your snout was still there."
"Really." Toneless.
"You could still breathe. It was an invisibility effect. More towards camouflage. Added to resonance. Dismissal. Everypony ignored any signs that it was there, including you."
"She's right," Twilight quickly interjected. "That's why I was able to counter it. Once I worked it out --"
"-- it doesn't matter! If I don't believe my own mouth is there, I won't eat! Even if it's just resonance --" and with a blink "-- dismissal? Everything she was doing, and it was just --"
"It's the same effect I used before I entered town, the first time I really tested the Amulet," Trixie managed. "So the capital would dismiss anything which happened in Ponyville. That was the hardest spell, because the whole settled zone had to radiate it! Even the trains were using the emergency turnaround. I didn't do anything that big again. I guess I was just thinking about it..."
"-- you keep saying 'I'," Pinkie softly observed. "When you're saying it was the Amulet. And you don't say 'I' much, do you? I don't think I've ever heard that come out of your mouth. The one you still have. Admitting that you're -- you. The Amulet came off --"
"-- it wanted the power from the other one, it was thinking about taking it apart and incorporating it, the Amulet doesn't understand zebra magic --"
Pinkie was taller than Trixie. It was easy to see, when the words had nearly driven the unicorn into the ground.
"-- and you still attacked. You tried to hurt Rainbow. You said you were trying to put her in agony."
"...it didn't wear off all at once. It was hours before I started to feel normal, and then... all I felt was sick... I was tripping over my own hooves, I could barely trot..."
"She said 'I'. Once."
Trixie's eyes closed. The others simply looked at Twilight.
"When she was talking to me during the diplomatic event," the little mare finally said, and hoped unto Moon that the words were the right ones. "She said 'I'. That's how I knew it was her. Not the Amulet, or the stage personality. Not a performance. Her. She was sorry. She wanted to make it right --"
"And from what you have told me," Rarity quietly broke in, "it lasted for but a few sentences before she ran for her life. Aware that the Guards might be closing in, I would imagine. And she turned out to be right."
"She's sorry..." It was still one of the weakest words in the world, and it was all Twilight had.
"Maybe that's what she wants you to believe," Pinkie countered. "She's a performer. She puts on an act."
No.
No.
She's my --
"That's good enough to fool the Princess?" Please, please...
"The Princess," the corpse of Rarity's faith observed, "is but a pony with a different shape."
Please...
"...give her a chance."
And then they were looking at Fluttershy.
"...Twilight talked to me about it," the caretaker softly said. "About how the Amulet worked, when it pretended it was somepony. It was cruel and angry and it fused horns together and it hated wheels for some reason --"
"-- I didn't want to hurt them, they were the only fans I had left, and if you'd been on the road in a caravan which kept breaking down, doing all of your repairs... I lost my home when the Ursa stepped through it, all of my things, my supplies, I was homeless for moons, there's banks all over the continent and I only had so much money in each one, I lost so many of my notes, I couldn't perform any more and I lost -- I lost everything..."
She wanted to approach the shaking form. To press herself against the performer, prop her up, lead her towards food and blankets.
But she was no longer fully certain what the truth was. And her friends were in the way.
Fluttershy looked at the trembling body. A wing partially extended, curled back in.
"...it pretends," the caretaker repeated. "But it's not good at that. It takes who you are, and that's what it warps. Maybe it can only warp so far. And with her... cruel, and angry, and... it still wouldn't hurt the beavers. It just let them out. Because that's what the pony who put it on would do. So... give her a chance. Please."
She stepped back. Pinkie stepped forward. Trixie didn't move.
"You apologized to Twilight," the baker said. "Not us. Never us."
The first tear fell.
"I'm sorry..."
Rarity slowly shook her head. "I'm not sure that means anything. Not if we had to ask for it. And especially not when it comes from you. I told Twilight -- some time ago, under circumstances which are none of your concern. You didn't come to us, not on your own. On the same night you were chased out of Ponyville the first time? Twilight went to every cattle and apologized. By name, which required a considerable briefing. You never wrote me. With Pinkie, you might owe her a slumber party added to a full essay. I reject your apology, Ms. Lulamoon. I reject you."
Pinkie snorted. Spike, eyes wide, didn't seem to know which way to move, or if he should move at all. Rainbow's wings were beating faster than any hover required: she kept bobbing up, almost slamming down. Applejack was silent. And Twilight was frozen, caught between those she loved and the one she'd so wanted to believe in...
"...but," Rarity continued, "we appear to be -- stuck with you, by order." She sniffed. "Naturally, I have every intention of registering a second opinion. But until then -- please recognize that we will be watching you. Closely. And at the moment we feel you are trying to do harm -- well, there are several of us, and you did just do us the honor of explaining something about how you operate. There is no Amulet, Ms. Lulamoon."
She tilted her head slightly to the right, and offered an expression which was a smile only on technicality.
"There are still Elements," the designer stated. "And you do not strike me as being particularly adept at dodging. In the words of Princess Luna -- good night to you."
And with that, she headed for the ramp.
"...Rarity..." wafted up from below.
"This," the white mare countered, "is what I would call a chance, Fluttershy. As much of one as she deserves, if not considerably more. And if this is how Pinkie and I feel..."
She stopped, and the non-smile twisted.
"...actually," Rarity considered, "we may represent the barest tip of the iceberg. Twilight, please contact us when you have more information. Or if you feel you are being deceived in any way. Spike, should you believe she is not perceiving the truth within actions, come to us immediately. Good night to you, Ms. Lulamoon. Be very careful about going outside."
She left.
One by one, they all left. Pinkie was the next to exit, and she stepped around the small salty puddles which were soaking into the floor. Rainbow furiously blazed a path towards the surface, and then Applejack, slowly shaking her head, took solid steps all the way to the top. Fluttershy began to make her way out --
-- paused.
"...it's a chance," she told the air. "I've... given chances before. But that's all it is..."
And then she was gone.
Twilight looked at the trembling form. Saw how the little twin puddles had spread, trotted forward, helplessly stretched out her left foreleg.
"Trixie --"
"-- don't touch me."
The unicorn's legs straightened. A single flicker of field adjusted the cape, and she moved for the ramp.
"I'm going to bed," she told the siblings. "If you can still stand to have me here. If not, I'll just sleep in the caravan. If it's outside. Somepony should check."
"You shouldn't sleep outside," Spike managed. "Even in the caravan. It's cold --"
"-- it's cold everywhere."
The cape swished, and the showmare left.
The caravan was outside. It had probably been there for some time, arriving in silence, brought by a Princess who didn't want to interrupt while the Bearers talked, with all subsequent sounds stolen by the storm.
Celestia had thought ahead. It had been parked next to the tree, with a prominent sign posted nearby: one which glowed with enough light to catch attention, while producing sufficient heat for melting the snow. It said that the caravan was present on order of the palace, as was its owner. Ponies were welcome to submit their questions directly to the Solar Wing, and any attack on the owner would be treated as exactly that.
Some of the settled zone's residents had already read that sign, because there was an unusual amount of traffic for a snowy winter night. It was safe to say that some of them had been in a position to read it at least twice, and a number of those had either been earth ponies or knew the few who owned greenhouses.
The caravan awaited Trixie, at any time she might want to use it. But it was snowing, and when it came to taking shelter on a cold winter night... the first barrages of produce had already taken out most of the glass.