//------------------------------//
// Chapter 20 
// Story: Don't Bug Me 
// by Starscribe 
//------------------------------//

Amie's hopes for Wes's magic were dashed, however. In the next day of hiking they had plenty of chances to stop, plenty more practice for her brother.

He had plenty of headaches, plenty of annoyed outbursts for her pressuring him. But of actual transformations, he had no luck. By the second night, he shoved her off, radiating frustration. "That's it! Amie, I don't think I can! Your powers and mine might not be the same. We don't know if I'm even the same kinda bug as you!"

There was no need to ask if he was giving the task the effort it deserved—Amie could feel his frustration, and knew full well how much of that was for himself. 

She put up her hooves, and backed off. "Alright, Wes. I'll stop. It just raises some questions about what we'll do when we get to Agate."

"Same thing I did in Motherlode," he said. "Just tell them I'm not a changeling, and I want a job. I think you're stressed about nothing, sis. The locals are nice, you'll see."

She didn't have to wait very long to find that out. They spent a night in her tent, ate the last of her trail rations—and before lunch came, Agate finally came into view. 

It was much as Tailslide had said, a town that spanned some distance and had reshaped the valley to hold it. Instead of single-story miner's huts, Agate began with farmhouses over sprawling fields, before concentrating into a busy downtown of multi-story buildings and paved roads. 

"What do you see?" Wes asked, leaning sideways to squint at her phone screen. She held it in her levitation, using the best of the digital zoom on her camera to glimpse the distant town through the trees.

"Looks big—about the size of Fairview." She turned the screen towards him for him to look over. 

Wes squinted at it. "No cars. No tractors on the fields either. Ponies must pull it all themselves. What year is it?"

Amie switched the phone back off, pocketing it. "I don't know if it works that way. They have magic, so they might not need things we do."

Wes shrugged. "Guess that makes sense. So it's the same plan as before? We go in, I try to become a student, and you earn us money? I find out everything I can about magic from other worlds."

She nodded, and they set off again. This time, directly onto one of the gravel roads leading into town. Ponies would see them before long, but there was no way around it. She still wore the same body she'd practiced a few days before, the medical unicorn.

Hopefully this town needed nurses as much as the last one had.

"We probably won't find what we need here, even if they have a library. We'll need to go to their capital for their Library of Congress. But before we can, we need someone to sign off on us. Either that, or we let ourselves in. Not... a great way to make friends, if we plan on asking their president for help."

They made it past the first farmhouse, and no soldiers came rushing out from inside. They walked past some fields of familiar crops—wheat and corn, growing on craggy soil.

By the time they reached a little footbridge over a river, they met their first other ponies on the road. Farmers too by the look of them, pulling carts of produce along the trail into town. 

One stopped dead to stare at Wes as they walked. The other pretended not to notice, and just kept wheeling his cart of apples along.

"Good afternoon!" Amie said, walking up beside him. "What kind of apples are those?"

The pony looked her over, then his eyes flicked to Wes, and whatever positive emotions he'd been feeling vanished. But neither had escalated to panic yet. Was this the reaction Wes had elicited back in Motherlode?"

"Red Delicious," he said flatly, not meeting her eyes. "Did you come down from Motherlode, stranger? You've got... some unusual company."

She grinned, ignoring that oppressive wave of negative emotions radiating from him. A normal pony shouldn't be able to feel any of that, after all. "Yeah. This is my... friend. I know he looks strange, but..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He has a birth defect. Doesn't grow fur, as you can see. He just gets so shy when I talk about it."

Wes chose that second to glower at her. Up close with genuine ponies, there was no mistaking the two of them for alike. Those insect eyes, clear wings, and shiny body had so little in common.

It seemed the ponies were thinking something similar, because the farmer sped up, muttering something Amie couldn't hear as he rolled over the bridge into town. The other remained stubbornly in place, as though he'd become fascinated by a rock on the side of the road. 

Amie thought better of confronting him too, just continued straight into town with Wes beside her. She walked a little closer to him, puffing out her chest. She boiled with anger, feeling her protective instincts surging all over again. Would she have to fight her way through the city with Wes? 

She banished the thought as soon as she had it, silently cursing herself for the absurdity of it. She had her shotgun tucked away, but what good would that do her? These were frightened ponies, not more thugs waiting to capture them.

I can't let Albrecht traumatize me. We got out of camp, we left it behind. They can't get us here. 

"Is this what happened in Motherlode?" she asked instead, keeping her voice low. "When you went in on your own?"

"Kinda." Wes's ears dropped, his eyes focused on the ground. She didn't need emotional magic to read the pain there. Wes felt the way ponies were responding to him, and it hurt. "Similar I guess. Then I met that nice farmer, and she gave me a job! She wasn't so bad. I think they're just scared is all. They wouldn't be if they took the time to get to know me."

It hurt almost as much to hear him say it as it did to watch the ponies recoil and retreat from him. Her brother had done little more than walk straight into town, and they backed away from the path like he was a leper ringing a bell about how unclean he was. 

"You don't have to say it," he whispered, just as quiet. "I should've practiced more on the way in. This is my fault."

She touched his side with one hoof. "It's not your fault, Wes. It's nobody's fault ponies are so afraid of you. Except maybe whoever invaded Canterlot. If I ever meet the assholes who got our whole species branded dangerous monsters..." But she couldn't finish that thought, not with so many ponies watching them.

They passed into Agate proper, and the handful of ponies moving down the road became a flood of traffic coming and going in all directions. The scope of the settlement compared to Motherlode soon came into full focus—where that town had a few dozen homes at most, Amie saw hundreds here, stretching off in both directions as far as she could see. Here was a city big enough to get lost in, where they could vanish into a crowd and never be seen again.

Except for Wes. They formed an island in the flow of traffic, parting ponies on either side as soon as they got close enough to see him. There was no screaming, no shouts for the guard—just quiet, pervasive avoidance. Maybe this is good enough. If nobody hates him, they might be willing to get to know him. 

Wes stopped in the center of the road, glancing weakly to either side. He looked almost as pained and helpless as he had during their flight from Stella Lacus. "What do we do now?"

She stopped beside him, blocking him off from as much of the city as she could. This was like Stella Lacus in more than one way—Wes was only here because of her insistence. She decided he needed to run from Motherlode, just like she wanted him to join her at Adventure Camp this summer. How was she going to get him out of it?

"You," someone said, emerging from the crowd and walking directly up to them. They were an earth pony stallion, over a full head taller than Amie and probably twice her size. He wore a heavy satchel made of a leathery material, which clanked faintly as he walked. On his head there was a miner's cap, complete with an old-fashioned carbide lantern.

"You two look lost." His eyes flicked to Wes, but quickly returned to her. But she felt none of the fear from him that radiated from the rest of these ponies. There was only a faint echo of curiosity, barely even detectable to her changeling senses. "Where are you headed?"

Amie considered that. "Just moved in," she said. "Was going to check with the clinics in town, see if anyone will hire me."

Their conversation drew more curious looks from the ponies flowing around them. Did she really stand out that much? She could see her own warped reflection in this miner's cap, and she still had fur. She hadn't changed back into herself without realizing.

"Interesting. You know, I might know a place." He extended one hoof towards her, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Or his emotions, for that matter. "I'm True Probe. What's your name?"

Amie had a few days to think over something the natives would accept. "Healing Touch?" She said it almost like a question. "Yeah! Nice to meet you! And this is my friend—"

"Wes," he said flatly. So much for their conversation about pony name conventions.

True Probe didn't seem to mind. He met Amie's hoof for a brief shake, then didn't even bother to do the same for Wes, just turned off towards a side street and waved for them to follow. Amie had little choice but to obey.

She felt no hostility from the pony—and she would, wouldn't she? They couldn't be led away to get themselves hurt in broad daylight, surrounded by hundreds of witnesses. Some savior for Stella Lacus she would turn out to be, escaping the military only to get a knife in her gut in the first town she came to.

As they walked, it didn't seem like Probe was leading them to some shady part of town to get her attacked. Agate looked friendly and welcoming no matter what part of it they visited—the buildings were all bright colors, the ponies all spoke with friendship, and there were no broken windows or signs of graffiti. 

"I have mostly medical experience," she said, forcing a confidence she didn't really feel. "But I've spent years as a camp counselor. Done Scouts and Venturing too. So if there's anything outdoorsy, I could probably do that too."

True Probe glanced over his shoulder at them to make sure they were still following. Amie didn't watch him too closely in return—she couldn't, not without being reminded of the persistently embarrassing local nudity. How long would it take her to get used to that?

"Wouldn't be right to tell you out here. But it's a good offer—better than anything you'll find in Equestria, I think." He led them through what was obviously the industrial quarter of Agate, past factories of plain brick with smokestacks rising into the sky beside busy railyards. Carts of metal ore came down, and ingots or simple cast goods came out. Most of the ponies here resembled their guide—stout earth ponies with unshorn fetlocks and no-nonsense expressions. Ponies that could snap Amie in half if they got too close to her.

Wes nudged her shoulder, stealing one meaningful look at their guide. The question was obvious even if he didn't use words to ask it: was she sure about this?

Amie could only shrug in response, not trusting even a whisper not to be overheard. She flicked her tail at her saddlebags, and the lumpy shotgun bulging out from within. None of the natives had remarked about it though, nor had she seen anything like a firearm during her brief walk through the city.

Finally True Probe took them to a warehouse, not unlike many others along the rail side. "We can talk in here," he said, fumbling with a set of keys. He had to open the door with his mouth, so could say nothing while they watched. But he still managed to get it open, shoving the door gently aside.

The interior was well-lit, but mostly empty except for a set of heavy wooden crates. Amie couldn't sense anyone lurking inside.

True Probe led them inside, then kicked the door shut behind them. A mechanical bolt slid closed as the door clicked into place, securing it from being opened from without. 

"I do not know what you are, or what you think you're doing in Agate," he said, facing them from the doorway. There was a brief, blinding flash of light—and the earth pony vanished. A changeling stood where he had, now nearly Amie's exact height.

He carried no weapon, but his horn glowed with a faint, orange light. "But you are going to tell me, now."