Amie woke from her sleeping bag to the first light of dawn. A glance at her phone told her just how strange that was—an hour and a half asleep, several times longer than she was used to. Odd. But her pony companion was still asleep, so she still had time to practice. She made her way into the bathroom, pulled the blinds closed, then turned up the lamp as bright as it would go.
There was a mirror in here, so she could see her own body while she worked.
Now if only she could figure out how she was supposed to do something impossible. Change her appearance, sure. They might as well tell her to start casting magic missiles all over Motherlode.
Tailslide made it seem so innate to bugs that he expected her to be capable of it without knowing anything else. And indeed, she had done it without realizing how or why. Maybe she really could just will herself into looking like someone else, and suddenly she would.
It wasn’t the blood. Tailslide’s blood was all over me first, along with all the animals I’ve helped hunt. I never changed into any of them.
There was something in the way she’d been overflowing with energy the night of their escape. Wes’s confidence had enabled her to do other things she didn’t imagine were possible, like moving objects with her mind. All that power made me change accidentally. Now I need to do it deliberately.
She focused on something small—altering the color of her hair. If she could change it from white to bright pink, that should be somewhere to start. Little details first, then she could move on to bigger ones.
The process was headache-inducing. At first she did little more than stare stupidly back at herself, wrinkling her face in useless concentration. Soon enough there was enough light coming in from outside that she could turn down the lamp, and rely only on the weakened sunlight to illuminate her doomed efforts.
Tailslide might be waking up soon. I’m running out of time.
It felt like cramming for a final the next morning, as her brain slowly turned to mush. Instead of a study guide or even a textbook to work with, Amie only had a mirror, and a vague description of powers she had only used once.
Someone shifted in the next room—Tailslide sitting up in bed, stretching away the aches.
Amie jumped at the same moment, feeling a sudden, instinctive surge of fear and discomfort. Was she in danger?
Light flashed around her, briefly stronger than the sun outside. It took a surge of strength from her, in ways that no human could express. There was a well of power there, one still overflowing with strength. She drained some of it in that flash of light—then she landed.
Her hooves touched the ground, and her eyes adjusted to the light. There was another face in the mirror.
She looked a little like Sawbones, except for her obvious femininity. She was shorter, and her fur color was—pink this time. Her mane and hair were pale pink, almost white. There was even a different mark on her butt—a simplified first-aid kit.
Hoofsteps thumped outside, then knocked on the door. “Pony in there?” he grunted, half-asleep. “Got to—use the—”
There was no lock. The door swung open, and there was Tailslide staring at her. He was much taller than she was this time, this new body was almost a head shorter than the pegasus.
He stared back at her, eyes delirious with sleep and confusion.
Amie got out of his way, slipping past him into the tiny bunkhouse. “You go ahead! I was just… trying what you said.”
He looked much more awake when he returned from the room a few minutes later. He watched her from the doorway, silent at first. “You are Amie,” he said. “The one who saved my life. Yes?”
She nodded, slumping down into a sitting position in front of the table. “Yeah. I was trying to use the night productively… learn to do what you said we could, about copying people.”
“I’ve never seen that pony before,” he muttered, walking over to the table. He started picking over the leftovers, tossing much of it away, and selecting what had survived. The miners had given them enough for two. “Where did you meet her?”
“Nowhere.” Amie looked away from him. His emotions were far stronger than they’d been the night before. He was actually recovering, thanks to Sawbones’s hard work. “I wasn’t trying to copy anyone. I tried changing my hair, that’s all. I didn’t even get that right.”
Amie couldn’t read his emotions when she was overwhelmed with her own. She’d done it, without anyone to tell her how! Now if only she could figure out what she was doing enough to make it happen again. Or stop doing it, for that matter.
“Changelings can do more than copy,” he whispered. “A little unicorn nurse, one who hid from the fighting then emerged when it was time to save my life. I could believe that. Easier to look at than my dead commander. Now I don’t have to hear her voice.”
He wasn’t very good at hiding that part, either. He thought she was pretty! An alien was interested in her—except it wasn’t her. This whole body was fake, from the tip of her horn to the end of her braided tail.
She should’ve just told him to stop. But Amie had seen his strength in the face of death, and knew how he felt about her. She couldn’t, because she didn’t want him to.
She was silent while he ate. A whistle echoed outside, along with a faint shout. “All alert! Chow in ten, work in thirty!”
“I… might be in trouble,” she whispered, when the whistling and voices faded. But the noise of a city waking was everywhere now, echoing off the mountains. The day would soon begin.
He laughed. “I would’ve told them about you, if I thought you would threaten Equestria. But I see now—we were wrong. Bugs can be good. That new pony, you might be just what Motherlode needs. You could stay here, get a job at the clinic.”
You want me to stay close, she realized. You want to see me again.
He wasn’t brave enough to say it, though. He picked through the food containers, tossing several into the sink. But he was still ravenously hungry, and ate anything that smelled safe.
“I have to check on my brother,” she finally said. “I need to know if he’ll be safe living in Motherlode too. Protecting him matters more than anything.”
He shrugged. “Can’t believe I’m saying this—but there’s probably a way to introduce that unicorn to Motherlode, so they don’t get suspicious. You need to come from the north instead. It’s a long way to Agate from there, but you could make it believable. Just get really dirty, tear up your saddlebags a bit, say you got lost on the trail, but you’re a nurse who heard the town needed more doctors. Once they see you work, they’ll stop asking questions.”
It sounded so easy when he put it like that. A nurse would probably earn decent pay—she could save it for a while, and use it to research deeper into the force that ponies called “magic.”
“Well?” he prompted. “It would probably be best if you change back into Gale. You can fly out of town any other direction, then come back from the north. And don’t talk to me when you get here—I’ll find you next time.”
He’s actually trying to help me. That simple thought was nourishing to her—but so was his concern. He worried that she would be captured soon. Those feelings sustained her, more than simple physical infatuation.
“That sounds plausible,” she said. “Except… I can’t fly, and I’m not sure if I can change back.” She looked down, where her wings should’ve been. Too bad unicorns didn’t have them, they seemed so useful for showing her emotions with creatures who couldn’t read them.
Someone banged on the front door. Stern, who spoke up a second later. “Miss Anemone? I have a message for you, if I could come in?”
Shit. Amie whimpered, fear overcoming her. The pain came with another flash of bright green light. When it faded, her body was different again. She looked across the room to Tailslide, looking hopeful. The pony shook his head wordlessly.
“Miss Anemone?” Stern asked, more insistent. “I wouldn’t wake you after such a night, but this concerns a telegram from the Royal Guard, you must hear it!”
Amie darted for the bathroom. She left a flurry of feathers behind her as she moved, then pulled the door shut.
Tailslide got the message. “Miss Anemone just got into the shower,” he called back.
She turned for the faucet, and turned it on. Cold water sprayed out—there was no hot tap. She didn’t get in, but crossed to the door, pausing by the mirror to look.
This time she looked like—Tailslide? Or his little sister, maybe. She had the same green coat he did, with a slightly brighter orange mane. It was cut in his exact style, short and military, with a stubby tail to match. The mark on her butt changed again, this time to a pair of crossed swords.
The door swung open, and she heard voices from the other side. Her ears strained, pressed to the door. Thankfully the wood was thin, and she could overhear their conversation.
They exchanged pleasantries, with Stern openly relieved for Tailslide’s survival.
“I can’t wait for her, unfortunately,” she said, after a few minutes. “I have a mine to run. This telegram—I suppose it’s for both of you. See that she gets a chance to read it.”
Then she left, and the door shut behind her. There was a brief silence, then someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Amie?” he asked. “You still looking like my twin?”
She cracked the door open. “I’m not trying to look this way! I panicked!”
And that’s the second time I changed because of fear. I might be able to use that.
He swung the door open the rest of the way. Amie turned away, walking back to the water. She rested one hoof on the handle, then hesitated. It might be a long time before she had a chance to clean herself off again. Maybe she should use it.
“This was a good idea. Maybe you could shut the door, actually? I won’t take long.”
He ignored the request, thrusting a sheet of paper towards her. That was some impressive dexterity, holding it in his wing that way.
It was a small rectangle, with typewritten words printed on it. Reading them made her brain fuzz a little, just like when she read the Motherlode street signs. But whatever that bizarre effect, she could still make out the words.
“MOTHERLODE DISPATCH -(STOP)- MESSAGE RECEIVED ABOUT INJURED PATROL -(STOP)- TROOP CARRIER ARRIVING TODAY TO RETRIEVE -(STOP)- WIRE TRANSFER FOR HEALING DISPENSATION SENT -(STOP)-”
Amie mouthed the word “today” a few times, feeling stranger on her tongue with each repetition. A “troop carrier” would be here today. It would expect two military ponies to save.
“How long do you think they’ll take?” she asked, voice thin.
“Probably would’ve sent a sloop,” he answered. “From the base in Agate. If they leave right now, they’ll be here by noon.”
“Shit.” Amie handed the sheet back. She crossed the bathroom again, and turned off the shower.