My ghost froze and so did I.
He had stopped at an angle, so I checked out his cutie mark. The pyromaniac's mark had an orange and red flame blown by a breeze, situated in a field of charcoal black. The black didn't belong to the mark; it was his skin color.
He had fought alongside me in the Hooflyn gang war. He had taken position on the tailboard of the brougham as we hustled Carne Asada from the failed gang summit, after the constabulary showed up. We rolled at a gallop when multiple Marvel gang members shot the carriage. While the entire carriage-works disintegrated in flames with me and C.A. inside, I teleported us away. He had dodged incoming Force spells, hurling himself away from the wreck.
His dodging could have been better.
His flank got burnt raw. Dr. Feels had promised his yellow fur would grow back but, unlike Dr. Flowing Waters, she was a quack. At least she'd healed the burn so that he didn't have a pink scar.
He had acted as my bodyguard when I was occupied being Carne Asada's.
He loved comic books.
He had ignored me when I told him not to follow when I ghosted the syndicate. As such, he had been there to help when I'd been foalnapped. Though Carne Asada had died months ago, her zombie second-step plan to kill Celestia marched onward. She had "contracted" out my magic services to an "interested" party that had searched for and found the runaway bodyguard. She'd subcontracted once before, facilitating the sale of airship keels to the self-styled Prince of Storms and his yeti wives. Celestia had fought at Mount Aris three years ago because of Carne Asada.
I figured out that the interested party that subcontracted me had wanted to conquer Canterlot.
I'd gotten to play intermediary in acquiring the remaining part of a scepter with a fire crystal that allowed dragons to use magic. Carne Asada, having finessed me into learning Teleport, had provided a missing piece of an impossible spell exchanged in that transaction: Intercontinental.
Intercontinental might have been experimental, as I suspected that Star Swirl the Bearded time spell I'd found in the library was. Fortunately, it had been based on an only very difficult spell, Gateway, so I substituted lesser magic to pretend to do the greater—or I'd likely be dead. To work Gateway, I had had to continually read the spell. It actually needed to be embedded in an amulet, but I hadn't known that, nor known how.
It trans-dimensionally compressed Teleport to expose a static-apparition of in-between that could connect here to an anchored point potentially leagues away. It opened a circular gateway of absolute darkness pony lengths in diameter. It wasn't so much paper thin as having no Z-axis at all, and could be entered on both sides. The only way for my taskmasters to ascertain where my gateway led to was to step through it and come back. Within the limits of my magic, the functioning spell guaranteed the pony stepping through would at least live to complete a one-way trip unhurt. After that?
Even with the... not-a-pony they got to help me with the targeting vectors, I knew enough to know I didn't know whether or not I succeeded in targeting where I wanted, or at the top of a cloud, or somewhere out at sea. Intercontinental presumably had a greater range than Gateway, and they wanted that range. I could, however, perfectly visualize a very memorable place in Canterlot and surreptitiously substituted that instead.
I'd planned to leap through carrying him and take my chances.
Instead, to ensure I was doing as they directed, they sent my soon to be ghost instead. They hadn't wanted to risk me. Dying or escaping. He'd already been hurt, with a broken leg and ribs, and bandaged gashes and burns.
The gateway collapsed when he limped through.
When I got Gateway spinning again, dragon claws gripping my neck a half-hour later, Celestia and her Royal Guard flooded through before we could test another round-trip with a second sacrifice. The alicorn, of course, stabilized the apparition without a second thought.
An EBI agent named Sprinter and I escaped through it to Canterlot. Don't Look Don't See Don't Hear had its uses. Neither of us found any sign that my former teammate had made it through.
My ghost had been a kid, though he might have been slightly older than me. He had been the only pony I knew who had ever had a crush on me.
He had always had my back. But. In the end. I'd failed him.
Or thought I had.
The stallion's mouth slowly opened. He asked, "Gelding? Gelding! It's really you!" He stepped toward me, then started trotting. From a greater distance, he might have made it to a gallop.
"Citron? You're alive!"
I dropped my shield. Frankly, I lost all my spells. My composure, too. My mouth dropped open as he approached. A half a year had healed his wounds, or maybe Flowing Waters had. He'd grown hoof lengths taller, and a few broader. No longer a colt, less of a yearling, very much more of a stallion.
Still a little geeky-looking in his long-limbed lankiness.
The crisp starched lines of his uniform—with shiny brass buttons, perfect thin lapels, and the achievement of two pips on the black epaulets on his shoulders—changed the equation. He looked good! Oh, colts, it was true what they said about a stallion in a uniform. Of course, with his freaky lemon-meringue-pie coloration, all bets were off—until you had to fight him, then the uniform would make him look dangerous-good.
I dropped all my defenses. The unexpected tactic often worked.
Stupid mare.
He halted just close enough that he raised a hoof to my chin, lifting my muzzle up to his.
I let him.
With a tilt of his head, he kissed me.
He took my breath away.
I'd done this to ponies many times, stallions and mares. It had been a favorite tactic to set others off-kilter. It had been fun in a totally different dimension when fellow mobsters had thought I had the "kiss of death" because the syndicate Doña called me her "daughter" and sent me to do her "errands."
I—
I, um—
I— I kind of liked it! He smelled like he'd dressed in a rush to get here without taking a shower. I liked the animalness of that, too. He kissed me deeply, but as I warmed to the invasion, I realized the kiss had a purpose.
Citron had been a member of my team. Of them all, he had been the most loyal, never disappointing, never letting on a secret. Always professional, like me, when it counted.
I'd taught him all my best tricks. (The non-sexual ones.)
However, the gum he placed between my teeth and cheek with his tongue spoke volumes.
Foal magic.
Deciphering Tin Cans for us had been Sunburst's last gift to me, before he got his cutie mark and abandoned me. The perfect example of contagious magic, once I enchanted the chewed gum, any shared piece of the gum buzzed with our voices when we spoke—even if separated by city blocks. Sunburst and I had talked the night away from our rooms. I'd used Tin Cans to coordinate the team when protecting Carne Asada, and he could cast it when necessary to back me up.
He stepped back and we both gasped.
We stared into each other's eyes (his were molten amber), my heart beating faster for an entirely different reason than a minute ago. Streak had told me I needed to aim lower. Citron had stopped just short of telling me his feelings last year. Because of his professionalism or his inexperience, I didn't know.
I felt his feelings now!
I glanced at Celestia. She lay in the ornamental grass. Her eyebrow raised. Her horn didn't light.
I returned my gaze to his and sub-vocalized, "If you're feeling anything for me, you'd better do that again like you mean it!"
He stepped forward, and kissed me so suddenly I had to step back. Oh, colts, did he mean it! I didn't even worry we might lose track of the gum! I could tell one thing: He'd stopped waiting for me and had been practicing with other mares. Practicing a lot, listening to feedback, getting it right. I approved, very much!
Feeling his passion, I pushed forward and reared. As he adjusted to my superior position, I wrapped my forelegs around his neck and pressed in. Ooooh! Streak was right. This colt really wanted to impress me.
Streak coughed loudly. "Um. Uh. Starlight?"
Yeah. Well. Phooey.
I hoped there would be a later. In any case, if I carried on any longer, I suspected Citron would start having trouble standing without embarrassment. Her uneasiness gave me an idea.
As we separated, I kissed him once on the nose and backpedaled into the pegasus. I tongued the gum in place, bit it in half, and swiped the spit off my lips. Incidentally, I stuck the wad to my frog and whirled around to put my hoof over her mouth.
I said loudly and with disappointment, "Don't know when I'll be able get a room." Situated between Celestia and her, with Citron also partially blocking, I whispered, "Gum. Between your teeth and cheek." When she parted her lips in shock, ears flicked forward, I popped it in.
I credit her with not spitting it out reflexively. I mean, warmed wet bubblegum. Somepony else's. Am I right?
Lowly, I said, "Flare your wings if you hear me."
Her wings went out momentarily as Citron added, "Copy."
Not wanting to be left out, Princess Celestia seemingly chimed in, saying, "So this is the infamous Gelding?" As I turned to face her, she added, "This fills in more pieces of the puzzle. You are 99, so you know."
"'99', what?"
"You may not remember, but your parents were 87 and 88. The gold medallions are all numbered. I awarded Gelding the 99th Hero of Equestria medal in absentia."
I scoffed. "You think I stopped a war?"
"Oh, I know you did. We captured everycreature. Returned the artifact to the Dragon Lands so the Saurians could deal with their rebellion."
I shook my head, wearily. "You don't get it, do you Princess? Had I not been tricked into setting the bomb in The Old Equestrian Post Office, I would not have needed to save 271 ponies from the EBI headquarters next door. Had I not been foalnapped and made to cast Gateway, nopony could have been able to invade the farm down the road, let alone Canterlot. I'm no hero. I'm just gullible and attract bad things into my life!"
She snorted. "Quincy, I want her to be my student. Can you please talk some sense into her?"
"Quincy?" I asked.
"Actually, it's Quince." Also a yellow fruit the same color as citrons. "Citron was my gang name."
"Cadet Second Lieutenant Quincy, actually. He appeared through a magic gateway in the middle of Castle Walk Boulevard, rather worse for wear."
"In front of the Hey Burger!?" I asked. I'd first gotten to observe the princess three years previously from inside that restaurant as she spun up an amazing spell. It had given me clues to what I called alicorn magic simplification. The visit had made an impression! Changed my life, actually. Memorable.
When she nodded, I said, "Spot on! Am I good at targeting or what?"
"Quincy described what Gelding did, was doing, had done, and how he'd fought alongside her. I took it as a your personal recommendation and made him my student at the Guard Academy. Quincy, am I a bad teacher?"
Since he looked at me, he rolled his eyes. "She's making me learn Old Ponish, and her spells break my horn. She's like you with the maths, but next level."
I sub-vocalized. "Shining Armor?"
He continued answering Celestia's question, smiling slyly. "I like my tactics instructor better. The lieutenant of the guard is hooves-on and I can even do Shield now."
A pout briefly crossed Celestia's face, until Citron looked directly at her and stepped between us. She said, "I train heroes for Equestria, and she's one already. I think she can be so much more."
Sub-vocalizing, I said, "Shining Armor cast a Shield dome. Can't teleport through." Louder, craning my neck so I could spear her with my gaze, I said, "Not interested. That old mare won't take no for an answer. Did you ever sell used wagons?"
She chuckled. "You'd be surprised at the deals I've made. Wagons, however, no. Quincy would make a great subordinate for an earl. I'm willing to keep your team together; train them, too. This pegasus, also, if you ask. Streak, was it?"
Streak gulped loudly enough that I heard it. "Um," she said, "Um." I heard a shutter click.
To her, under my breath, I said, "Good excuse. Fly around. Find Shining Armor. Celestia's not gonna hurt you."
Streak fluttered away. Celestia lifted herself on one leg, watching her go.
I said, "Face it, Princess, you're a scary pony."
She sighed. "It makes me sad. Makes me value the friendships I do have. We could be friends, Starlight."
Oh, she didn't know me well! "Got the name right, at least. You could abdicate."
She froze. Her stifled retort likely impinged on the curse. She glared, however.
I added, "You could make real friends if you did."
"I don't have the luxury of thinking selfishly, unlike you, Starlight."
"You ignore things about me, about my team. I am not a good pony. Neither were they."
Citron huffed.
Yeah, Mister I-like-to-see-things-burn. Never ponies; I credit him that.
She relaxed, shaking her head. "Except for a spike eight months ago in Hooflyn—" during the gang war"—violence has been down in the eastern cities for almost a year and a half. Crime is at a new low. I judge by results."
"And ignore the means."
She shrugged. "You learned your lessons, and no, I don't think you are evil."
"Yeah. I have uniquely fungible ethics."
The gum buzzed against my teeth. My eyes in the sky said, "A little purple foal just stepped through the dome over here." I saw blue wings east toward the ivory towers, one of which was Sunset's. "There's a gazebo and steamed up greenhouses. Coincidence?"
"Keep looking." To Celestia: "Here's the problem, Citron— Uh, do you prefer Quince or Citron?"
"I prefer you," he returned with a smile.
I startled, then as my face warmed, I almost swatted his flank. Then I thought, Yeah, that's the right attitude! Suave, if unsubtle. "Sweetie, then. Here's the problem, Princess Celestia is cursed."
He whinnied, stepping aside so he could look at me then turn his neck and look at her. Her attitude remained so cool, she could have had ice flowing in her veins.
"Not denying it," I pointed out.
Princess Celestia smiled, but that vanished quickly.
"She's evil. She's wrecked my life from the start. If I become her student, how can I trust anything she has me do? I learned I have an affinity for medical magic; her physician offered to train me to replace him before she figured out who I was—"
"Oh, I knew who you were."
I struck the brick pavers sharply with a hoof. "I'm also giving that up. I am not saying no because I want to. I want out of this Shield that is trapping us, out of the castle, out of this city, and, I think, out of Equestria entirely." That's the impossible task, anyway.
He studied Celestia, lingering on her bandaged ear. He looked at me. Even in the perpetual dawn light, he could tell I was injured. His eyes alighted on my withers and shaking leg. His examination made me aware of my lingering exhaustion.
Celestia said, "I agree to Flowing Waters training you to replace him, so he can retire, if that's what it takes."
"I'm a criminal!" I shouted, sudden tears filling my eyes. Another dream, crushed.
"You are the Earl of Grin Having."
"You're cursed!"
"Cursed?" Citron asked skeptically, doubt and increasing-worry warring in his expression—my fault for sounding petulant.
"Princess Celestia, if you want any chance of me agreeing to work with you, I need you to show Citron the curse. Don't worry, he's able to keep a secret."
She reacted by steadfastly not reacting.
"Say, 'I am cursed.'"
She took a deep breath and let it out. "I. Am. Cursed." Her eyes widened, marginally.
Right. I didn't understand the semantics that triggered the controlling geas, or how she formulated what she said in her mind, likely complicated by how I'd phrased my ultimatum. Think! Think!
Citron asked me, while looking at her, "If she's cursed, wouldn't it be better to be around her to counter the curse?"
Celestia didn't comment, but I asked, "Have you met Streak?"
"No," came back from the pegasus.
I added,"What power would I have to counter it, Citron? She's a princess. I am not. She's The Princess." I gasped. "Regicide, how did you murder your sister?"
She blinked at me, hesitating, obviously thinking it through, before she answered woodenly, "I did not murder my sister."
That sounded like a statement of fact. I spat, "Or a princess of Equestria?"
"Not... even the queen of the thestrals almost a thousand years ago."
That sounded like a careful restatement of what I'd said to provoke her on Ponyville Way. Blinking, thoughts started meshing like gears in my head.
Under my breath, I mused, "The Thousandth Summer Sun Celebration is less than two years away..."
Coincidentally, Celestia's horn lit with a yellow nebulosity. That might have been because glowing amber clouds had gathered into a storm around Citron's.
The realization struck me. "You have a sister!?" As bad as I was in history class, I certainly would have remembered that!
The grass around Princess Celestia burst into flames.