Aces High

by Lupin

Origin Unknown

Chapter 4: Origin Unknown

The plan they’d devised had been rather simple.

While many things differed between the human world and Equestria, from place names, geography, occupations, history, and even works of art, individuals, and more importantly, the names of individuals, remained fairly consistent.

Ponies or other creatures on Terra had a counterpart here on Earth. Some were only animals, such as Spike. Or sometimes, they weren’t in the same relative time or place. Such was the case with Starswirl the Bearded and Mage Meadowbrook, who had lived in Renaissance Italy and late 1800s Louisiana respectively, rather than over a millennium ago in the same country.

The fact remained, however, that they did exist. Therefore, Sunset’s doppelganger had to exist somewhere. Sunset herself had done a cursory search years ago and hadn’t turned up anything at the time, but then her past self had never had a team of half a dozen friends ready to help her.

And even if her counterpart proved elusive, there was still the matter of Manisha. If Sunset had known her back on Terra, then, logically, they should be able to find her doppelganger as well, and by extension, glean something about Sunset’s life.

It wasn’t exactly a whole lot to go on, but it was a lead that none of Princess Celestia’s agents had possessed. More than that, those agents hadn’t possessed human technology, which would, as the human Twilight astutely pointed out, make the job of gathering data much easier.

So it was that Sunset found herself walking up the steps of the Canterlot City Public Library main branch that afternoon, ready to search for her one mysterious friend with her six less mysterious ones.

The library’s architecture was actually rather similar to the one in Equestria, from the glass dome on top flanked by the two glass pyramids, to the twin unicorn statues that guarded the stairs. On Terra, the statues were there to represent the majesty of the great capital, originally founded by the unicorn tribe. On Earth, the pair, named Love and Wisdom, were meant to rival the famous stone lions of the New York Public Library, Patience and Fortitude. Sadly, they’d never gotten quite the same level of recognition.

Inside, the difference really showed. While there were shelves lined with books that stretched over multiple floors, computers lined many of the desks, users typing and clicking away at whatever they were working on. Sunset passed the main desk, hunting for any sign of her friends, before finally spotting them at a table in one of the study areas.

She waved her hand in greeting. “Hey, girls.”

“Sunset, darling!” answered Rarity. “I half-expected you to stay home.”

“How are you feeling?” asked Fluttershy.

“A bit tired,” she admitted, rubbing her eyes when she felt a wave of exhaustion. “But..” She trailed off, realizing that someone was missing. “Where’s—”

“I’m here!” cried Twilight, rushing up to the study area. She froze, covering her mouth with both hands. “I mean,” she looked around guiltily, her voice slipping to a near whisper. “I’m here.”

Sunset chuckled. “Anyway,” she turned back to the group. “I might be a little tired, but I’m still ready to go. There’s no way I’m sitting on the sidelines for this.”

“I hear that,” said Rainbow, her right knee bobbing up and down in a clear case of restless leg syndrome. “But what I don’t get is why we had to come here.” She grimaced. “I mean,” she looked at Twilight, “I get that you had a read along here earlier, but we could just do this stuff on our phones at home, right?”

Twilight pushed her glasses up her nose. “I find the library a much more conducive environment for research.”

“I like the library,” offered Fluttershy. “But I’ve only been to the Golden Oak,” she added, referring to the local institution in their neighborhood. “This one seems a bit…” the pink-haired girl looked around, eying the towering shelves. “Big.”

“In this case, that’s a good thing,” said Sunset. “Helps give us more privacy.” Their conversation wasn’t exactly something she wanted to be overheard. “So, are we ready to get started?”

“Actually,” said Twilight. “There was another reason I wanted us to meet here. I came up with a plan.”

“I thought we already had a plan,” complained Rainbow.

Twilight flinched. “W-Well…I mean…”

Sunset threw a glare in Rainbow’s direction. “Hey, do you think you could—”

“Ah, simmer down, Rainbow,” said Applejack, beating her to the punch. “You’re just angry cause Dusty Pages took your soccer ball.”

“It’s my lucky ball!”

“You’ll get it back,” Sunset told her plainly, clamping down her own wave of annoyance. These were her friends. There was no reason to get into a fight. She turned, giving Twilight a smile. “Go ahead.”

Twilight smiled back. “Alright.” Clearing her throat, she pulled a notebook out of her bag. “Now, to review,” she began, sounding like she was reciting a school project before a class. “We’re here to find information not only on Sunset’s past, but on Manisha, whoever she is.”

If she was still alive. That was the thought that bubbled up in Sunset’s head, and she immediately shoved it back down into the well of fear it had crawled up from.

She’d been trying to avoid that line of thinking ever since last night. While the precise details of her nightmare were still unknown, all indications were that Manisha had been in some kind of danger, if her cries of “She’s in there,” or “Let me through,” and “I have to help her!” were anything to go by. The pain that haunted her at the sound of Manisha’s name also didn’t suggest anything good, either.

But on the other hand, her brain had countered, it had also been a nightmare, so it didn’t necessarily reflect reality, and Manisha could still be alive somewhere on Terra. It also didn’t mean something had happened to the Manisha on Earth, either.

Her past deserved to be found, no matter the outcome, but all the same, she clung desperately to the hope that Manisha wasn’t gone.

“While we could stick to Googolplex searches,” Twilight continued, “that may not provide the ultimate answer.”

She looked to Sunset. “You said you tried searching for yourself once?”

Sunset nodded, snapped out of her thoughts. “Didn’t go through everything, but I did a decent search and didn’t find any trace of the other me.” She really should have done more to find her counterpart, if only to learn about her own past. But at the time, all she’d cared about was the reasonable assurance that she wasn’t going to run into herself on the street.

Twilight nodded back. “Which is why we should take advantage of the Canterlot City Library’s superior resources to explore other possible avenues of research.” She waved the notebook. “I made a list of the alternatives we should try…I mean, if you girls want to do them all at once,” she floundered. “I suppose we could start with internet searches, but the results could still be low, so we could maximize time by covering our bases.”

Sunset hummed in agreement. Considering there were seven of them here, having all of them doing the same sort of internet searches would be more than a little redundant.

“Sounds like a great idea, Twi. Don’t make much sense for us all to be goin’ through the same hay bale,” said Applejack, mirroring Sunset’s thoughts. “What do you have in mind?”

Twilight practically beamed. “Well, we could look into the nature of the name ‘Manisha’. It’s fairly unusual, so gathering up books on names, and even languages, could potentially tell us something.”

“I can get those,” said the farmer, tilting her Stetson. “And Rainbow can come with me.”

“Why me?” complained the athlete.

“Cause you’re always goin’ on about how fast you are,” answered the farm girl. “Might as well put those legs to use.”

“Ooh, I’ll come, too!” said Pinkie, bouncing up from her seat.

Twilight turned once again to address her. “That symbol,” she said, pointing to Sunset’s backpack. “You said it’s your…cutie mark? Do I have that right?”

Across the table, Rainbow Dash snickered. Sunset rolled her eyes. “Yeah. But what’s that got to do with researching my past?”

“You said those marks are important and rather individualized. It got me thinking of Holy Icon’s Theory of Symbolic Connection, the phenomenon where people tend to adorn themselves with a particular image, and I thought perhaps we could do an image search of your cutie mark and see if it’s been used before. We could even look through some books on solar imagery in case of something that hasn’t been digitized.”

The former unicorn sucked in a breath. “That’s…brilliant, Twi!” Oh, Celestia, how had she never thought of that before?! Sure, the theory didn’t ring any bells, but she’d noticed the phenomenon herself. How could she not, when Principal Celestia wore that painfully familiar sun-shaped pin on her lapel every day?

It had never even occurred to her to try searching for her own cutie mark. She resisted the urge to slap her forehead. Instead, her hand darted into her bag, yanking out a loose piece of notebook paper and a pen. “Here, I’ll draw it for you.”

Twilight’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

“I’ll handle the image search, darling,” said Rarity with a polite, but knowing smile, taking the sketch once Sunset had completed it.

“And I’ll get the books,” said Fluttershy.

“There are a few other options we can try,” added Twilight. “But that should be good for now.”

With a round of agreements, everyone split to their various tasks, Rainbow, Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy disappearing among the shelves of books, while Rarity went to use one of the library’s scanners to begin her image search.

“So, I guess that just leaves us with Googolplex, huh?” asked Sunset. She shifted in her chair, trying to get more comfortable. A day before, the idea of being alone with the purple bookworm might have made her flustered, but right now, her mind was too preoccupied with her past to give her future much weight.

It was funny how life could change so drastically.

“Yeah,” answered Twilight, playing with a loose lock of hair behind her ear.

“Nice plan, by the way,” said Sunset as she drew her flame red phone from her pocket. “Seriously, I never even thought of searching for my cutie mark.”

“You’re welcome. Organizing and planning are one of my specialties.” She pulled out her own phone, a deep purple, just like its owner. “Sunset?”

“Yeah?”

Twilight’s voice fell once again, slipping into a half-whisper as she stared directly into Sunset’s eyes. “We’ll find something, I promise.”

Rainbow Dash rushed through the reference section, searching for every book of names she could find. It was proving a bit harder than she thought, if only because she wasn’t used to searching for anything other than Daring Do. How were library books even organized, anyway?

But Twilight said finding these books was important. That it would cover their bases, try to get more done in less time. Rainbow didn’t have a problem with that at all. She was all about speed.

More than that, it could help Sunset.

Her mind flashed back to last night. Rainbow didn’t want to admit it, but Sunset’s nightmare had freaked her out. Freaked her out a lot. Her uncle had told her once that some of his Air Force buddies used to have nightmares like that when they came back from duty, but she’d never expected to see it herself, not among her friends. And to find out that Sunset had an entire chunk of her life missing…

Once, back during winter break, Rainbow Dash had failed. Applejack and Rarity’s little sisters, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, along with Scootaloo, who Rainbow thought of like an unofficial little sister, had framed Sunset for a string of cyber bully attacks.

Under the MyStable profile “Anon-a-Miss,” the three had leaked a number of personal secrets and photos on all of them, except for Sunset herself. Soon enough, they’d started sharing the secrets of the entire school. All because they’d been jealous of their sisters spending time with Sunset and not them.

Sunset had been trying to reform, to be a better person than the bully she’d been. Hell, she’d saved them from the Dazzlings! And yet, Rainbow, like the rest of them, like the rest of the school, had fallen for Anon-a-Miss hook, line, and sinker. They’d believed the worst in the girl the five of them had been asked to befriend, were friends with. They’d abandoned her.

Princess Twilight had said Rainbow’s counterpart in Equestria was the Element of Loyalty, and Rainbow could believe that. Even before all the magical stuff happened, loyalty had always been something the athlete had valued.

Her stomach twisted angrily as she grabbed another book.

But she wasn’t going to fail again. She turned the corner, racing back to the study area, her arms almost overflowing with books, only to collide with something large and solid. Rainbow Dash fell backwards, a shock of pain sailing up from her tailbone as the books scattered around her.

“Hey, doofus, watch where you’re going…Dash?”

Rainbow looked up, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Gilda?!”

Sunset sighed, rubbing her eyes against the glare of the screen. She and Twilight were silently digging through the internet, as they had for the past fifteen to twenty minutes. Rarity, who had returned to the table for her own search, had left temporarily to use the bathroom.

For a minute, the former unicorn contemplated joining her, if only to splash water on her face, because so far, the search was going about as well as when she’d searched for her counterpart the first time. Which was to say: not well at all.

She’d begun by simply Googolplexing herself, but quickly dropped that when the first page showed the same sorts of results she’d seen last time, plus what little digital presence she’d added over the five years she’d been in this dimension. Then she’d tried searching for Manisha, and quickly found herself faced with a puzzling little conundrum.

From the way she’d pronounced the name in her fevered sleep, it would seem to be spelled with an M-A-N, like “Manhattan” was on Earth. That’s the way she’d chosen to spell it. But the logical part of her brain protested that it wasn’t right.

You were supposed to put an E next to an N when spelling names, rather like how U went after Q, or I before E except after C. Sure, there were some exceptions, but that was the rule. And yes, once she’d crossed to this side of the mirror, she’d realized her home dimension was full of equine pun place names, but they weren’t meant to be puns. It was a language thing.

The proper way to spell it should have been “Maneisha.” Writing her friend’s name that way, however, left Sunset feeling odd. Still aching terribly inside, but off-kilter, too.

Had she mispronounced her friend’s name in her sleep? Had she always mispronounced it? Or perhaps Manisha’s parents had been the type of ponies who favored strange, uncommon names or spelling variants, like with Norman back at CHS.

Releasing another sigh as the name “Manisha” failed to bring up anything in a search of Canterlot City, she swapped her phone for the notebook she was using to keep track of potential leads, angrily writing out “Manisha + Canterlot = Nothing”.

She had to figure this out. She had to find Manisha. She had to…

She was seated cross-legged on the floor, buried deep in the library’s reference section. Books lay scattered around her like autumn leaves. Her fingers thumbed through a chemistry text, searching for answers to the problem that had plagued her mind.

At the edge of her hearing, she detected the sound of the librarian, deep in conversation with someone. Her barnacle of an officer, possibly. She was pretty sure he’d followed her in here. He’d been watching her like a hawk. Just this morning, he’d come up to her, all “You been on the straight and narrow, young lady?”

She scoffed at that. As if she was a lady.

She scooted a bit closer to the shelf, trying to listen in. Yeah, that was him, alright, chatting up the head librarian as if he was one of the boys at school and desperate for a date to the dance.

Desperate for something, at least, she decided.

So, perhaps he wasn’t entirely interested in what she was doing. And it wasn’t like the librarian could grass on her, anyway. She was here “for school,” after all, and she had her homework in her bag to prove it.

Still, he’d been on her tail. Had she been careless in her secret activities? No. If she’d been caught by Constable Romeo over there, he would have told her mother, and if he’d done that, her mother would have made it known all too well.

It might have just been because he was new, she reasoned, replacing her previous warden after he’d broken his hip and retired. New and eager to bust the “infamous”…there was a blank in her mind where the name should have been, but the ragged edges of the hole carried a bitter aftertaste, one of humiliation and the grit of playground sand.

But if the new guy, whatever his name was, she’d never bothered to learn it. If Constable Romeo was anything like the other so-called “officers” she’d met, he’d probably stop caring soon enough. The last one had, and eventually, she’d be off their leash entirely.

She snatched up an encyclopedia. Yeah, he’d stop caring, just like how the rest of them hadn’t cared last year when Manisha…

Her fingers clenched the book cover, her cuticles turning white at the pressure. No! She shouldn’t…wouldn’t…think about that. She had answers to find. Manisha wouldn’t want her to stop. She’d been fascinated by her experiments, by her passions.

Anyway, that div…wait, what was a div…? He wouldn’t stop her, let alone catch her, and he certainly wouldn’t catch her doing her experiments. Those experiments had been going so well lately, too. This was the next step. She needed to crack the recipe.

If she could have gotten a hold of a sample, it would have been easier, but nicking it was too risky, even for her. Fourteen years old or not, if she got caught, that was prison…prison for what…and she didn’t even entertain the idea that anybody would sell it to her. Not with all the stuff going on in the news, and not that she had the kind of money to make it worth anyone’s while. No, the only way forward was to do it herself.

She flipped through yet another encyclopedia, searching for the right entries, before scribbling in a notebook she kept hidden from everyone. Its pages were littered with chemical and structural formulas, as well as notes on proportions, but no names. Names would have been too dangerous.

She’d already figured out how to produce the primary ingredient from materials at hand last month. She just needed to work out how to combine it with the other stuff in the proper ratios to get not only the right compound, but the right potency.

She smiled. Once she figured out this stuff, who knew, she might even be able to make her own custom formulas! But that was a possibility for later. Right now, she just needed a few more ideas. Then she’d test them out later tonight.

Just a bit more time, and she’d piece out how to properly make gelign…

Sunset shook her head as reality wove itself back around her. With a start, she realized what had just happened, and desperately tried to cling to whatever had passed through her head, trying to hold onto some scrap of information.

But it was useless. Her brain felt completely empty, like a popped water balloon. “Horseapples,” she swore, louder than intended.

Twilight turned her head away from the screen. “Sunset, what’s…” she saw the look on the redhead’s face. “You zoned out again, didn’t you?”

“Yup,” Sunset groused. “And I can’t remember a thing.” Sweet Celestia, that was getting really annoying. She looked pleadingly at the other girl. “Did you find anything so far?”

To her disappointment, Twilight shook her head. “No, not yet. But it’s still early.” She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve never failed a research project yet.”

Sunset smiled back. “Thanks, Sparky.”

“You’re wel—Sparky?”

Sunset blinked. Where had that come from? Sure, she used nicknames, she’d called Princess Twilight “Twi” lots of times, but the alicorn had been the one to suggest it. She didn’t give people nicknames right off the bat. Not unless they were insults, and that was the old her. “I’m sorry,” she apologized quickly. “I’m not sure why I did that.”

“N-No, it’s fine,” sputtered Twilight. She grinned. “I think I like it. Besides, it’s a more efficient way to distinguish Princess Twilight and I in conversation.” Her eyes moved past Sunset to the workbook sitting on the table. “What’s that?”

Sunset glanced at the page. Her brow furrowed in confusion. “…What the hay?”

Below the search notes she’d written, there was now a complex series of chemical formulas and equations. The entire paper was awash in a sea of nitrogen, carbon, hydrogen, and oxygen. The handwriting was definitely hers, but she didn’t remember writing it. “Maybe I did that when I was zoned out?” she guessed, though even to her ears, it sounded pretty half-hearted.

Twilight regarded the notes curiously. “Do you think it’s a lead?”

Sunset shook her head. “Can’t be. I was seven. I might have been ahead of my grade, but not that far ahead. I guess I must have just doodled it unconsciously or something.” Which was odd, because she’d never done anything like that before. Sure, she’d doodled idly on pages, but those were the normal, artistic sort, not chemical equations. She wasn’t even sure what these were supposed to be.

Twilight hummed, taking the notebook in her hands. “These equations are perfectly balanced,” she remarked. “But this structural formula is incomplete.” She hummed again. “I can’t say I recognize these myself, although it appears to be some kind of complex nitrogen-based compound.”

Twilight handed her back the notebook. “It figures you’d be able to do something like that without thinking, I suppose,” she added with a little laugh.

Sunset tilted her head. “What does that mean?”

“You beat me,” explained Twilight.

Beat her? “What, you mean in the Decathlon? No, I didn’t. You beat me.”

“Only in the last round. I’m talking about the first round. Chemistry, remember?” Twilight looked at her with something akin to awe. “Sure, my score was excellent and I moved on to the next round, but your score was through the roof! I’ve never met anyone who could beat me in science like that before. You’re amazing.”

Sunset’s hand slipped behind her head. Her cheeks felt suddenly warm. “Thanks,” she laughed. “Magic’s my special talent, but my alchemy instructor back home always did say he’d never had a student like me.” And of course, on the day of the Decathlon, she’d just been in top form, even for her.

That was when Rarity came around the corner. “I’m back…” She trailed off, blue eyes sliding over the scene before her. “Did something happen?” she asked politely.

“N-No!” asserted the redhead, her face flushing just a little bit more. “I mean, um…”

“She zoned out again,” said Twilight.

“Oh dear,” said a frowning Rarity. “Did she say—”

“No,” Sunset interrupted morosely. She looked around. “Where’s Fluttershy?”

“I’m not sure,” said Rarity with concern. “I would have thought she’d be back by now.”

“We’re back!” cried Pinkie, bouncing up to the study area, Applejack close behind her, their arms full of various books.

Sunset raised an eyebrow. “Not all of you.”

“Not really sure what’s keepin’ Dash,” drawled Applejack.

“I bet she found a good book on pranks!” offered Pinkie, dropping her literary trove on the table.

“Hey, guys!” said Rainbow, rushing up to the group. Sunset smirked. Speak of the Rainbow, and she shall appear.

“Hey, Dashie!” greeted Pinkie. “We were just talking about you! Did you find a book on…” she trailed off as someone else followed in Rainbow’s wake.

The girl was tall and muscular, and appeared to be around their age, with sharp amber eyes and a prominent, aquiline nose. She wore gold-colored pants, a white crop top, and a brown leather jacket with a fur-lined collar. Her hair was white, cropped short into a pixie cut with long, purple tipped bangs.

“Hey,” she said nonchalantly with a shrug of her broad shoulders.

“This is Gilda Ironclaw,” explained Rainbow. “We went to Junior Flight Camp together. Gilda, this is the rest of my band.”

Everyone made their introductions, and Gilda passed an amber eye over each one of them. For a moment, Sunset felt the sensation of being judged. It was something she was unfortunately all too familiar with, though not usually from total strangers, or strangers in her own age group.

Gilda’s attention turned back to Rainbow. “Where do you want me to set these down?” She raised up the pile of books in her arms.

“Put them on the table, please,” answered Twilight, already busying herself with sorting the books the others brought back.

Gilda shot her an irritated glance, and then dropped the books next to her with a thunderous bang that made Twilight jump in her seat and her glasses practically fall off her face.

“There you go,” said Gilda flatly.

Sunset grimaced. What the hay was this girl’s problem? Sunset opened her mouth, ready to tell her off, when Rainbow started talking again, seemingly oblivious to Gilda’s attitude.

“Hey, Gilda, remember when Coach Vernier took us to the flight simulator? That was totally…” The conversation rolled down memory lane, so Sunset tuned it out, and instead paid attention to Twilight.

“You okay, Sparky?” she whispered.

“Yeah,” answered the bookworm, putting her glasses back in place. “I was just startled, that’s all.”

“She’s a tad rude, isn’t she?” whispered Rarity as the rest of the girls gathered at the table.

“Definite grumpypants,” agreed Pinkie.

Sunset nodded. She didn’t like the girl much, either. But on the other hand, she was Rainbow’s friend, and given her own background, not giving Gilda a chance would be hypocritical. “Maybe she’ll mellow out?” she offered half-heartedly.

“I could help with that,” said Pinkie.

“Hey, is that your uncle’s B-3?” Rainbow practically shouted, which made Twilight cringe.

“Yeah,” said Gilda proudly, her fingers tracing across the part of her jacket where the word “Ironclaw” had been sewn on. “Dad found it in the attic.”

“Man,” said Rainbow. “You’re lucky. My uncle lost his.”

“What’s a B-3?” Sunset whispered to Twilight, feeling more than a little lost. As far as she knew, B-3 was some kind of vitamin. Or was that B-12?

“It’s a style of bomber jacket,” Twilight replied. “B-style jackets are meant for crew members, while A-style are for…” Twilight’s words died away as something shot up from the depths of Sunset’s mind.

Black jacket. Hers? No, not hers. Or was it? Yes and no. Hers…not hers…same color…but not it. Not right. Wrong shape. Too empty. Not leather. Cloth. Black cloth covered in symbols, in objects, that clicked together when she picked it up. Collected and assembled with so much care. The jacket she’d had her eye on for so long. The one she’d wanted. She’d loved it so much.

Where was it now? Where was her…

The next thing she knew, Applejack’s arm was around her, keeping her upright in her seat. “Whoa, there, sugarcube,” said the farmer. “Don’t you go fallin’ over now.”

“Dude,” said Gilda, staring at her with mild alarm. “What’s wrong with you? You looked major league sick just now.”

“It’s nothing,” Sunset groaned, wincing at a particularly sharp spike of pain in the back of her head. “I’m fine.”

“Hello, everyone,” came Fluttershy’s quiet greeting. “I’m sorry I took so long…oh, my.” Her eyes clapped onto Sunset. “What happened?”

“Sunset had another one of those flashbacks,” said Applejack. “Made her a mite dizzy.”

“Got a headache, too,” added the fire-haired girl.

“Pardon me if this is rude, but I cannot resist. I believe I may be able to assist.”

Sunset looked up to see that, like Rainbow, Fluttershy hadn’t returned alone. Behind her was a woman, perhaps in her thirties, with gray skin marked by darker patches, and blue eyes, and a black and white mohawk. Her clothes were simple, dark pants and a shirt, and the only real ornamentation were a pair of gold earrings and a multi-layered gold necklace.

“Fluttershy, dear,” asked Rarity. “Who is this?”

“Zecora is the name I go by,” answered the woman. “And you must be the friends of dear Fluttershy.”

“She’s an herbalist who lives around the block from me,” said Fluttershy. “When I told her I was here with my friends, she said she wanted to meet all of you.”

“Oh, yeah,” added Rainbow. “You’re the one who sold Fluttershy that medicine she gave to Tank, right?” She smiled. “Thanks a lot for that.”

“You must be Rainbow Dash,” Zecora said smiling. “Fluttershy often mentions her friend with colors so brash. In truth, from her descriptions, I believe I know all your names.” Her attention turned to Gilda, and she tilted her head. “But I confess, for you, the question remains.”

Gilda’s eyes darted away, shoving her hands sharply into her jacket pockets. “Gilda,” she answered tersely. She looked at Rainbow. “Hey, Dash, why don’t we ditch the library and get some lunch? There’s still a lot to catch up on.”

Rainbow frowned. “I can’t. I gotta help my friends right now.”

Gilda visibly stiffened. “With all that?” she gestured at the stacks of books. “Looks to me like they’ve already got enough people to work on…whatever egghead thing this is. And your friend’s got people to look after her. Come on, Dash.” Gilda sounded almost pleading. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

Rainbow looked between them and Gilda, her lips pressed together in a grimace. “I…I…” The athlete shook her head, sending her rainbow hair to and fro. “I’m sorry, Gilda, I can’t. But we’ll totally catch up next time, okay? I promise!”

Gilda matched Rainbow’s expression with a grimace of her own, tight and angry. “Sure, Dash…sure.” She waved stiffly, and as she did, her sleeve slid down her arm, revealing the bottom edge of a tattoo.

In the moments before Gilda turned and walked away, Sunset caught the barest glimpse of something red and…was it a talon? Holding…something? An American eagle, perhaps? Her uncle was in the Air Force, so that would fit.

The headache pulsed again, harder this time. “Ugh.”

“I see you are still in some pain, Sunset Shimmer,” said Zecora, sitting down beside her in an open chair. “If you would like, I have a few remedies to make your headache dimmer.” She pulled out a bottle from her purse and took out a pair of nondescript pills. “An herbal formula of my own design, which should make the pain start to decline.”

“Thanks,” said Sunset, quickly taking the pills and swallowing them. Normally she wouldn’t take stuff like this from strangers, but Fluttershy knew her, and besides, she really didn’t feel like being picky at the moment.

“Pardon me for askin’,” said Applejack. “But why are you talkin’ in rhyme?”

“Worry not, offense, I do not take,” smiled Zecora. “Speaking in rhyme is a choice I make.”

“Cultural significance, right?” guessed Sunset. True to her word, the herbs had already begun to beat back the pain and dizziness. “Musical language of the traditional healer?”

The striped woman’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise. “Yes, indeed,” she beamed. “Healing others has always been my creed. And to that end, I follow in the footsteps of old. I must say, it is not often that I meet someone who does not need to be told.”

“I’ve been around,” was all the answer Sunset gave. In truth, she recognized it from Terra. To be more specific, from the zebras.

Over the years, Sunset had at times wondered what pony tribe or species certain individuals were back in her home dimension. It was a thought she didn’t give much attention to, since there was no way to confirm any of her guesses. Besides that, what little speculation she could offer ran the risk of going into potentially stereotypical, tribalist lines of thinking that, even in the dark days of her old self, she’d always opposed.

With Zecora, however, the striped pattern on her skin was rather a dead giveaway, even without the rhyming. It was too widespread, and too…organic, for lack of a better word, to be any form of tattoo art.

“Fluttershy tells me you are on a search for truth,” said Zecora softly. “Quite the burden for one of your youth.”

“But one I have to take on,” she replied. “I’ve spent too long just setting it aside, and now I have a lead.” She frowned. “Not that it’s turning up much,” she mumbled dejectedly.

Zecora seemed to sense her frustration. “Be patient, young one, all things come in time. It was not in a day that I learned to speak in rhyme.” She chuckled. “What you seek may have been long lost, but one day, the door to truth will be crossed.”

“She’s right, you know,” said Twilight. “There has to be an answer somewhere.”

“Yeah.” Sunset smiled. “Thanks for the herbs, Zecora. I feel a lot better.”

“You are welcome, my friend, and trust that you will find what you seek in the end.” The woman paused as the telltale sound of a text message rang out from her pocket. Her phone, Sunset noted, was held in a zebra-print case. “Unfortunately, I must take my leave. With your friends, may you find reprieve.”

“Oh, you have to go already?” said Fluttershy.

“Awww,” complained Pinkie. “I wanted to have fun rhyming with you!”

Zecora chuckled. “I would be delighted to engage in a game of rhyme. But now is not the time. A problem, there seems to be. My neighbor has misplaced her house key. It is no dire crisis, but I must attend nonetheless.” With a polite nod to all of them, Zecora disappeared around a corner.

With Zecora gone, it was just them in the study area again. “So, did y’all find anything?” asked Applejack.

“Not so far,” Sunset admitted.

“No,” said Twilight.

“I regret to say that I didn’t find anything, either,” said Rarity. “My apologies, darling.”

The former unicorn suppressed a sigh. She’d really thought her cutie mark would turn up something. She turned a rueful smile to Twilight. “Looks like you were right on the money getting those books, Sparky.”

Twilight returned her smile. “Yeah, guess I was.”

“…Sparky?” rasped Rainbow.

Sunset turned to see the rest of her friends staring intently at her. Her amber cheeks flushed. “It’s a new nickname,” she explained quickly. “Now, come on, we’ve got all of these to go through.” She gestured to the books.

Together, the seven of them silently began to leaf through the pages. Sunset’s eyes moved quickly over the words, determined to find something.

Gilda trudged her way across the library, trying her best not to think about Dash, and failing miserably at it.

Her phone buzzed. Gilda snatched it from her pocket, hoping for a split second it was from Dash, only to have those same hopes scuttled when she read the name on the text: Mom.

Are you okay? Is your father treating you well?

Gilda scowled. Her mother was still trying to figure out a way to get custody. Like Gilda would ever stay with her. Not after she’d abandoned her dad. She considered sending off an insult, but restrained herself, if only because she wasn’t sure how many texts she had left.

Then she remembered how her social life wasn’t the most thriving, and sent it off anyway.

A few seconds later, a familiar ringtone played from the tiny speakers, and Gilda found herself smiling. “Dad?” she answered.

“Hey, kiddo.” He sounded tired, but he always sounded tired these days. “What are you up to?”

“Nothin’, Dad,” she said with a shrug. “Just at the library for school junk.”

“School’s not junk, Gilda,” her father chided. “But I’m glad you’re keeping up.”

Gilda bit her lip, unwilling and unable to tell her dad about the Fs she’d gotten on her math and history tests this past week.

“Anyway, I wanted to tell you that I won’t be home this afternoon. I’ve got a meeting to get to, and it could take a while, so you’ll probably be on your own for dinner.”

The unspoken word again hung in the air. Gilda didn’t even bother asking what the meeting was for. She already knew it was with his attorney. The attorney he could barely afford. Her free hand tightened into a fist.

“I left some microwave pizza in the fridge for you,” her father continued. “Pepperoni and anchovies, your favorite.”

“Thanks, Dad. I…” she paused, pushing down the anger and the stupid tears that pricked her eyes. “Do you think you’ll be home tomorrow? There’s a game on. We could catch it on TV.”

“Maybe, Gilda,” came his tired answer, and Gilda felt herself deflate.

“How’s work going for you?” her father asked. “That Mr…what did you say his name was? Is that going okay?”

“Mr. Redbeak’s been good, yeah,” Gilda answered. “Going to get my next paycheck soon.” Which was a really good thing because she’d already had to use up her last two to fix her computer.

“Good.” She could practically see her father nodding. “Look, kiddo, I know things have been hard with your mother and all, but we’ll get through this. I promise. Just hang in there for me.”

“Sure, Dad…” she answered sadly.

“I have to go now. You keep up with your schoolwork.”

The line went dead, and Gilda shoved her phone violently back into her pocket and continued her trek through the library. Her footsteps grew heavier as her emotions simmered. No Dad, no Dash. It would just be her again. Her and that big fat rat that lived in the wall.

Why hadn’t Dash wanted to hang out? They’d been friends longer than those dweebs, even if they’d lost touch. Didn’t that count for anything? Okay, sure, one of them was sick or something, but still, she had people to look after her, including that Zecora…

She stopped as her right forearm began to itch. Rolling up her sleeve halfway, she began to scratch. Hans told her that itching was normal, but it was just so annoying. “Stupid ink,” she muttered.

“You aren’t complaining about my work, are you, small fry?”

Gilda spun around to see Hans standing in front of her, his big, brawny chest barely contained by his shirt. He smiled down at her, a kind of thin, sharp smile that did nothing to put you at ease. “Tat still itching? I told you, it’ll settle.”

“It still bugs me,” she mumbled.

Hans scoffed. “Quit whining, small fry.”

Gilda grit her teeth at Hans’s nickname for her. It wasn’t fair. Gilda wasn’t small. She was five eight, last she checked. But then again, Hans was just over seven feet tall, so he probably saw most people as short.

“What are you even doing here?” she groused. “I thought you had work.”

The large man shrugged, brushing away the dark brown bangs that fell into his eyes. “Call went faster than I thought. Figured I’d come by to get a few art books,” he said casually. “Imagine my surprise when I saw you here.” His steely gray eyes narrowed dangerously. “Interesting company you were talking to.”

“Rainbow Dash is an old friend,” she defended, doing her best to keep her voice steady. “We went to Junior Flight Camp when we were kids. Her uncle and mine were in the Air Force together.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Mr. Redbeak or any of the people that worked for him in general. He’d done good by her, getting her the job at the salvage yard, helping her out, making her feel like she belonged, even if there weren’t a lot of others there her age.

But Hans always scared her. His size and general demeanor just screamed threat, and it had taken a great deal of nerve just to let him near her arm with a tattoo needle. Honestly, she was pretty sure he liked people being intimidated by him.

This seemed to calm the large man, because he smiled again, though like before, it did nothing to soothe Gilda. “Is that so?” he said. Then his expression darkened again, and his next question was as pointed as a steel lance. “And what about her?”

“Don’t know her,” Gilda replied quickly. “She’s a friend of one of Dash’s new fr…bandmates.”

Hans nodded. “Good. Just remember to mind the company you keep. I’m sure Mr. Redbeak would be disappointed to hear you’d fallen in with the wrong crowd.” Suddenly, there was a buzzing sound, and Hans reached into his pocket to pull out his phone.

“Keep your schedule free, small fry,” said Hans as he put his phone away. “Mr. Redbeak may have an extra job for you soon.”

“You mean…” she searched her memory for some of the other businesses Mr. Redbeak owned. “Like repossession or something?”

Hans smiled again. A bigger, toothier smile that sent Gilda’s heart racing. “Something like that.” He turned toward the library’s front doors. “And remember,” His voice was casual on the surface, but there was a distrustful edge just underneath. He pointed to his forearm, and then to hers. “You fly with the eagles, now.”

With that, Hans left, and Gilda breathed a sigh of relief. “I fly with the eagles,” she said quietly. The motto soothed her, a balm against Hans, against her life. “I fly with the eagles, high above the world.”

Underneath her jacket sleeve, her tattoo itched again.

As it turned out, books on solar imagery had provided no documented evidence of her cutie mark. A few similar designs, that was bound to happen with something like the sun, but not an exact match. As far as history was concerned, her two-tone sun, with its yin-yang center, was unique.

It was a compliment Sunset could have really done without.

There was only one thing of substantial value, relatively-speaking, that they’d discovered. According to Names From Across the Globe, “Maneisha” was a girl’s name meaning “wisdom” or “desire”, and derived itself from the Sanskrit language. This suggested her friend came from somewhere in the vicinity of India or its neighboring countries.

“I know it’s not much,” consoled Twilight as they passed between the ever vigilant Love and Wisdom. “But it’s something to follow up on. We can ask around any local communities in the city. Since India is the largest country in that region, we should start there, and work our way outwards.”

Sunset nodded slowly, her mind turning on the new piece of information. As far as she could remember, though that was, of course, the problem, she’d never met anypony from Maneipuri, Terra’s equivalent of India. She didn’t think Canterlot even had any Maneipurian immigrants back when she was still living there.

Princess Celestia often went on diplomatic trips to other countries. Over the years, she’d taken Sunset on a number of them. With the princess, she’d seen Prance, Germaney, Eagleland, and even Saddle Arabia, among others.

But Sunset had never gone on the trips to Maneipuri, never been to that particular part of the world. It made her wonder, if they had visited Maneipuri together, would Sunset’s memories have come back sooner?

Then again, they were hardly coming back, were they?

“But where would we start asking?” asked Fluttershy.

Twilight rubbed her chin contemplatively. “Well, Cadance told me about a new Indian restaurant opening up near downtown. We could ask the owner if he could get us in touch with the local community.”

“That sounds like a great idea!” said Pinkie. “And we can get some food along the way!”

“So, I guess we’ll do all of that tomorrow?” Sunset asked. It was already five o’clock, and she knew the girls had other things to get to.

“Tomorrow,” said Twilight determinedly. “I’ll get the address of the restaurant from Cadance and text it to all of you. Twilight hummed, her face brightening. “Actually, there is one other place we could look: Town Hall.”

“Why there, darling?” asked Rarity.

“We’d be able to go through local birth records,” Twilight explained. Her expression suddenly dimmed. “Oh, but we’d need an adult with us.”

“No sweat,” said Rainbow. “My mom could drive us around.”

“You sure?” asked Sunset. A lot of adults would probably be less than okay with transporting a bunch of teenage girls on a Sunday.

Rainbow waved a hand. “Trust me.”

“Alright, then we’ll meet up tomorrow.” She turned, heading off toward her bike, when Fluttershy cut in.

“Um, Sunset? Maybe you should take the bus with me.”

Sunset turned back. “Why would I need to take the bus, Shy?” She pointed her thumb to where her fire red motorcycle sat ready and waiting. “I’ve already got a ride.”

“W-Well,” said the shy girl. “It’s just that, you’ve, um, zoned out twice today already, and I thought it might be dangerous for you to, you know…be driving at all.”

“Shy’s got a point there,” said Applejack. “With the way you’ve been, I don’t think you oughta be gettin’ behind a wheel.”

“I got here just fine earlier,” she argued, though she knew they had a point. She’d already had two “episodes”, for lack of a better word, in the library, and that wasn’t even counting the one from this morning. At the same time though, the thought of giving up her bike for Celestia knew how long grated against her, not to mention the problem of leaving it here.

“Please?” said Twilight, staring at her with those big, magenta eyes.

Sunset’s resistance crumbled like an ancient piece of pottery. “I…I can’t leave my bike here,” she said weakly, voicing her most practical concern.

“I can take it back to your place in my truck,” offered Applejack.

Sunset cast one more glance at her bike. “Okay, Applejack,” she said reluctantly. “But be careful with it. I don’t want to have to rebuild it again.”

“Don’t you worry none, Sunset,” assured Applejack as she began pulling the bike over to her truck. “It’ll be as safe as a baby in her momma’s arms.”

With that particular obstacle taken care of, Sunset followed Twilight and Fluttershy silently to the bus stop. Thankfully, the bus was already there.

“You built your bike?” asked Twilight, sounding genuinely impressed.

“Yup,” Sunset beamed. “Scavenged the parts and put it together myself.” On reflection, it wasn’t something to be entirely proud of. Sure, she’d taken a lot of parts from the local junkyard, but she hadn’t paid for them. And for all the parts she hadn’t been able to sneak out, she’d cannibalized from other people’s motorcycles.

At the same time, there was something thrilling about putting together her own custom set of wheels. The fact that it had monumentally helped her understanding of auto mechanics was simply another plus.

They stepped up into the interior of the bus. Sunset had just gotten up the last of the steps when the driver, a tall man in a blue cap, held out his hand. “Fare, please,” he said.

Sunset froze.

“Tickets please…”

Hands of steel clamped around her skull. Or were they claws? Paws? A part of her brain scrambled to light her horn, to throw this…whatever it was…off of her, but her magic failed to ignite, the comforting weight of her horn non-existent.

She reached desperately into her pocket for the device, the one that he’d given her. Who? She couldn’t remember his name, or even his face. It was someone…somepony…very, very sad. Sad, and also dead. If she could only get it out.

It was thrown from her grip before she could use it. She struggled fiercely, swinging backward to hit her assailant, but only injured herself in the process when bone collided with metal. “Kingpin!” she cried. “Kingpin…Come on! Help me!”

There was a man…stallion, crouched in the barren landscape, staring fixedly at a medallion with a blue eye. His face was still as vacant as it had always been. No wonder they’d renamed him…what had they renamed him, and who were they?

“May I see your ticket, please, miss?” said her attacker in a tinny, emotionless voice. The agonizing pressure mounted ever higher, and she half-imagined she could hear the crack of her own skull, breaking apart under the ruthless grip. Or would she even hear it, before her brain matter was squashed by this stupid monstrosity?

Darkness was creeping its way into the edge of her vision. “Kingpin, please…”

When she came to, her heart was beating wildly in her chest. The driver was still there, staring straight into her eyes. Adrenaline coursing through her system, she took an instinctive step back, only to find her heel slipping off the edge of the stairs.

She yelped when two hands grabbed each of her arms, pulling her further into the safety of the bus. The former unicorn shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs, trying to get herself to calm down. Her skull ached even more fiercely than it had before.

“Uh…” the bus driver began uncertainly, “is your friend okay?”

“She’s fine,” Twilight said quickly. “Just a little sleep-deprived. Here you go, sir!” She handed the driver the fare, coins jangling together in the collection basket.

The driver, however, kept his gaze on Sunset. “My name’s Wheel Round, miss.”

“O…kay…” was the only answer Sunset could offer before Twilight and Fluttershy ushered her to the back of the bus.

“What happened?” she whispered once they’d found a seat.

“You zoned out again,” said Fluttershy.

Twilight’s brow creased with worry. “That’s three times in one day.”

“Four,” Sunset corrected, trying not to groan from the pain in her head. “Zoned out this morning in the bathroom.”

The crease in Twilight’s forehead deepened. “It seems like they’re getting more frequent.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing?” suggested Fluttershy. “I mean, we’re all looking right now.” She ducked behind her hair. “Well, except for you nearly falling down the stairs, that is.”

“Yeah, except for that,” Sunset joked. “Ugh,” she groaned. “And this killer headache.”

Fluttershy’s blue eyes widened. “Oh, my, it hurts again? You poor thing. I’ll ask Zecora for more of those herbs.”

“One good thing did come out of it,” said Twilight.

Sunset’s face snapped to her purple-haired friend, her headache momentarily forgotten. “I said something?”

To her immense relief, Twilight nodded. “You said ‘Kingpin.’”

Well, that explained why the driver had introduced himself. She rubbed her chin. The name didn’t seem familiar. But then, it wouldn’t be. And why had a bus ride triggered it, of all things? Sweet Celestia, these episodes were so hard to understand.

“Did I say anything else?”

“No,” said Fluttershy, lips pursed together in concern. “But…you seemed like you were in distress.” Fluttershy hesitated, then added. “Do you think…maybe he got hurt?”

“I don’t know.” She was desperately hoping against it. It was bad enough that the possibility hung over Manisha. But to think that somepony else from her past had gotten hurt…what had her earliest years been like, filled with fear and pain? Maybe there was a good reason her mind was blank.

“It’s another name to add to the list,” said Twilight, pulling out her notebook to jot it down. “For now, though, we all need rest.”

At the mention of rest, Sunset yawned, the exhaustion of last night catching up to her. “Good point, Sparky,” she yawned again. She curled herself up into the cushion as she felt the bus start to move. “I’m going to try and take a nap. Wake me up if I do anything, okay?” Having a freaky nightmare on a city bus was as high on her list of priorities as getting a neon pink crewcut.

“Sure, Sunset,” said Twilight softly. “Try and sleep.”

Sunset closed her eyes, feeling the gentle movement of the wheels underneath her. Before long, she found herself lulled into sleep.

In her dreams, she saw an arid, dusty world where a broken, brightly-painted bus lay abandoned by time, and the distant sounds of a circus drifted menacingly in the sun-baked air.

At about eleven in the morning, Sunset and her friends found themselves in front of The Tasty Treat, Canterlot City’s newest Indian restaurant. The cheerful wooden elephant head that hung over the door, combined with the rows of planted flowers on either side, seemed incredibly welcoming to all passersby.

The owner, a large, heavyset man with magenta eyes and dark raspberry-colored hair, by contrast, was far less welcoming.

“Please, sir,” said the former unicorn. “We only need a few minutes to ask you—”

“I don’t have time to be questioned by a group of teenage girls. I have a restaurant to run,” he snapped, before shutting the door in their faces.

“Wow,” said Rainbow after a pause. “What a grouch.”

“He’s certainly not going to attract customers with that attitude,” agreed Rarity.

Sunset had to agree. Beside her, Twilight looked downcast. “I’m sure we can find another place to start looking,” she consoled. Honestly, she was getting incredibly frustrated by the roadblocks, but seeing Twilight so hurt was too painful not to say something.

“…Hello?”

They all turned around to see a teenage girl standing only a few feet away. She brushed back a lock of wavy fuchsia hair. “Are you customers?” she asked, her voice ringing out with a strong Indian accent. “We aren’t quite open yet.”

“We just came here to ask the owner a few questions,” Sunset explained.

“Yeah,” added Pinkie. “But the owner was all super grumpy and slammed the door in our faces like WHAM!” She scowled, an expression that was totally at odds with her level of hyperactive energy. “It was really mean.”

“Oh no,” the girl sighed, fingers creasing her long fuchsia skirt, crumbling the little saffron flowers that decorated the hem. “Please forgive my father. He’s not usually like that. The restaurant just has him really stressed right now,” she begged, her voice thick on the r’s, while the middle of the word ‘restaurant’ sounded more like ‘tao.’

She gestured to the door. “My name is Saffron Masala. Please, follow me inside. We don’t open for another half an hour, so we have time to talk.” She flashed a hopeful smile. “And perhaps, if you want, you could stay for lunch?”

“We were plannin’ on gettin’ some grub here, anyway,” said Applejack, tipping her Stetson. “Mighty kind of you.”

“It’s no problem,” said Saffron. Her eyes fixed on them for another moment. “Do you all go to Cantarlot High?”

“No, silly,” Pinkie giggled. “We go to Canterlot High.”

Saffron’s brow furrowed. “That’s what I said.”

“Yes we do,” Sunset cut in before Pinkie ended up sticking her foot all the way down her throat. “How’d you know?”

“I just started there a few days ago,” answered Saffron. “I thought I’d seen you around.”

Pinkie Pie let out a horrified gasp and suddenly bounced up beside the girl. “I can’t believe I missed you transferring in!” she cried. Her arms wrapped tightly around Saffron’s middle. “Welcome to CHS!”

“T-Thank you,” replied Saffron, struggling for air against Pinkie’s patented “Super Welcome Hug.”

Once she’d pried herself free, Saffron moved past them, and flung open the front door of the restaurant. “Welcome to The Tasty Treat!”

Sunset had seen pictures of Maneipuri a few times, and even India here on Earth. Walking into The Tasty Treat was like stepping into one of those photographs. Colorful silk drapes hung from every inch of the ceiling, interspersed by hanging lanterns. On the walls were paintings of elephants or pictures of India in years past.

The tables were simple and wooden, with a little glowing lantern set atop each, and surrounded by a mix of wooden chairs, stools, plush armchairs, and even a few couches. The receptionist’s desk lay against the back wall, placed under another smiling elephant, and beyond that was the door to the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans could be heard, but more than that were the smells.

Some of it was that of cooking meat, which disturbed her, but the rest, oh, the rest! Fruits and vegetables and so many wonderful spices. It was enough to drive her stomach wild…and summon forth something from the depths of her mind.

The smells floated on the air as they sat in the booth of the Indian restaurant, making her stomach rumble like a lion’s roar. “How about it, Nisha?” She pointed to the new item on the menu the waitress had mentioned, extra spicy curry. “You’re always saying you like trying new things.”

“I don’t know,” answered Manisha with concern. “Isn’t that the thing that made Judy throw up?” Judy? Who was Judy? Manisha glanced at her mother, still chatting away with the waitress, and completely oblivious to their debate. The thought of puking in the woman’s presence was clearly weighing on her mind.

“Yeah.” She shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “But we both know Judy can’t handle spicy stuff.”

Manisha nodded in agreement. “That’s true.” Her head tilted, sending her long black hair spilling over her shoulder. “Why did she eat it?”

“I heard her mum got Judy’s lunch mixed up with her brother’s,” she replied, shrugging. “Sounds like something her mum would do.” Her skinny eleven-year-old legs swung wildly under the table. “You like spicy stuff, though. Remember how many of those seekh kabobs you ate last week?”

“That’s not exactly the same thing,” Manisha pointed out. “And you ate just as many as I did.”

“You still didn’t puke,” she shot back. “Come on, Manisha.” She grinned mischievously. “I dare you to try it.”

Manisha giggled. “Oh, okay,…” a name, once again lost. Manisha met her smile with one of her own. “But I dare you to eat it with me.”

“You’re on!”

Sunset held her head, once again throbbing slowly with pain. Horseapples, it seemed like the headaches were a regular feature now. Her mouth felt strange, too, hot and irritated, but not in a particularly terrible way, like the faintest echo of a meal still playing on her tongue.

“Are you alright?” asked Saffron.

“I’m fine,” Sunset groaned, taking out the bottle of herbal medicine Fluttershy had picked up that morning. She popped a pill into her mouth and downed it with a little thermos of water she’d brought with her.

“Hey, maybe this means you’ve eaten Indian food before, Sunny!” Pinkie suggested.

Sunset almost corrected her by pointing out it would have been Maneipurian, but kept her mouth shut. Instead, she looked at the still confused Saffron.

“That’s sort of the reason we’re here. Mind if we sit down?”

Saffron led them to one of the couches, and Sunset, her headache fading, gave Saffron a brief, magic-free explanation: that she’d lost her memory as a child, that she apparently knew someone named “Maneisha,” who they were trying to find.

“I see,” said Saffron, humming in contemplation. “I don’t remember anyone named Maneisha.”

“Saffron, what are they doing here?”

They all turned to see the owner emerging from the kitchen. “I thought I told you to go away,” he said brusquely. “I have a restaurant to run.”

“Father!” chided Saffron. “They’re just asking if we know anyone named Maneisha, and,” she emphasized the word sharply, “they’re going to stay for lunch.”

At this, the man’s anger seemed to evaporate. Sunset idly wondered if they should have just come in for lunch first, and asked questions second.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “My name is Coriander Cumin. I am the owner of The Tasty Treat.”

“Do you know anyone named Maneisha?” Sunset asked, ignoring the way her tongue convulsed at the pronunciation. “She might be living in here in town.” Or at least, she hoped so.

Coriander shook his head. “I can’t say I know anyone in Canterlot City by that name.”

“Would you be able to direct us to the local Indian community?” asked Twilight.

“Yes,” said Coriander. “But first, I have to finish cooking. We’ll be opening soon.” Turning around, he returned to the kitchen.

“He really is very kind,” Saffron apologized. “In the meantime, I’ll get you some menus.”

Something occurred to Sunset. “Indian food has a vegetarian option, doesn’t it?” She really should have thought of that earlier. It was the first thing on her mind whenever she went into any eatery in this universe. Personally, she blamed lack of proper sleep.

Saffron nodded. “Of course.”

In short order, Saffron brought them some menus, and as the restaurant opened up properly, the seven of them picked out what they wanted. Sunset found herself gravitating toward vegetarian curry. Was that something she ate with Manisha? A favorite meal? She’d never been especially partial to spicy food before.

Rainbow texted her mother, who had, at Rainbow’s suggestion, gone off on some errands while they went to the restaurant. Honestly, Sunset was pretty sure the real reason was so she could get away from her mom’s embarrassing tendencies.

After placing their orders, Sunset sent a quick update to Princess Twilight, and was pleasantly surprised when her journal began buzzing within minutes.

Dear Sunset,

I’m sorry to hear the search isn’t going as well as you hoped. It’s shocking that you haven’t found any trace of your other self or Manisha (Maneisha?) yet.

While I know it’s early days, and you still have a lot of ground you can cover in the human world, I did want to offer up one more solution that I happened upon last night. I’m sorry I didn’t message you sooner. I kept the journal with me, but the morning has been a little hectic.

Anyway, I happened upon Princess Luna last night, and I told her about your situation. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but besides raising the moon, Princess Luna is able to walk in dreams in order to help ponies with their nightmares.

Since your memories seem to be manifesting in your dreams, being able to see them directly could answer a lot of questions. Princess Luna agreed, and added that she could even try to access your memories directly. Of course, in order for any of that to work, you’d have to come to Equestria.

I know you’ve been hesitant whenever we’ve talked about you coming back before, and I understand why. But you wouldn’t need to come all the way to Canterlot. You could just stay in my castle. Princess Luna is willing to come to Ponyville to examine you. You just need to tell me when you’re ready, and I’ll let Luna know.

Your friend,

Princess Twilight Sparkle

“Yo, Sunset, whatcha reading?”

Sunset looked up to find her friends’ eyes on her. “I got a message from Princess Twilight,” she said slowly.

“What does it say?” asked Fluttershy.

She passed them the journal. Applejack let out a low whistle. “Walkin’ in dreams? Now if that don’t beat all.”

“This certainly sounds like it would help,” commented Rarity.

Sunset bit her lip. “Yeah…” she trailed off.

It was true. Seeing her dreams directly would be a tremendous advantage, to say nothing of trying to get at her memories themselves.

“Do you not want to do it?” asked Fluttershy, catching the hesitation in her voice. “Having someone poke around your dreams does sound kind of scary.”

“I—”

“Or maybe,” cut in Applejack, “you just don’t want to go back to Equestria?”

Sunset gave a small nod. “It’s…complicated.”

It wasn’t like part of her didn’t want to go back. She did. She missed everything, the feel of her magic, the adventure, the quests, the feel of her hooves, the wind in her mane. But going back felt shameful now, and besides that…what if she ran into Princess Celestia?

Not that it was all that likely. Like Twilight said, she could just stay in the castle. Keep miles of space between her and the solar alicorn. And yet, life was infinitely unpredictable. One surprise visit, and Sunset could find herself faced with the one confrontation she wasn’t ready to have.

A powerful ache passed through her chest that seemed to ripple all the way to her core.

“You don’t have to do it,” Twilight said with a surprising firmness, before adding quickly. “I mean, if it makes you uncomfortable.” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, we haven’t gone through all the possibilities in this dimension yet. Statistically speaking, it’s highly improbable for there to be no trace of you here at all. I’d even venture to say it’s impossible.”

She adjusted her glasses. “Like I said, I haven’t failed a research project yet. We’ll find something. I know we will.”

Sunset smiled. “Yeah. Let’s all just keep at it.” She looked to her friends. “Right, girls?”

“I reckon we might as well finish what we started,” nodded Applejack.

“But not before we finish the food!” declared Pinkie, pointing at the now returning Saffron Masala, her arms laden with plates.

Putting her journal away, Sunset prepared to dig in, and pushed thoughts of Equestria from her mind. Sparky was right. There had to be a trace of her life in this dimension somewhere. They just had to find it.

There was nothing.

Sunset collapsed into her seat at the lunch table that Friday afternoon. For the past week, they’d searched. But no matter where they turned, the result was still the same.

According to Coriander Cumin, the only Maneisha he knew was a great aunt who was both dead, and had never left India in her entire life. He’d directed them to other members of the local Indian community, but they’d offered the same answer. Furthermore, no one had ever seen or heard of the spelling variant Sunset had used. Communities from neighboring countries were incredibly small in Canterlot City, and hadn’t offered anything different.

Town Hall was a complete bust. They’d even tried the local senior centers and rest homes, looking for anyone that recognized her. No one did, and while she did have another episode, it hadn’t yielded any new information, just another headache, and a phantom pain in her knee that had her practically limping for five minutes afterwards.

The name “Kingpin,” likewise, did nothing. They’d found the owner of a local bowling alley with that name, but he’d neither sparked any reaction in her, nor remembered Sunset or anyone named Manisha.

It just didn’t make any sense! Why couldn’t they find anything? Her doppelganger being invisible was one thing, but Manisha’s as well? How could both of them have left no footprint whatsoever? Her friends all had counterparts. The princesses had counterparts. Countless students at CHS had counterparts, from what Princess Twilight told her. Why didn’t she?

Why did every clue turn into some form of cruel joke, tantalizing in their possibilities, but empty and confusing in their reality. Were those far away Maneishas back in India hers? Was her counterpart displaced in time like Starswirl’s? Had there been some divergent event that kept Manisha…she still could have sworn it was spelled without the E…from coming to this country?

As each day passed into another, Sunset felt herself growing thinner, not physically, but mentally. Every morning, her mind felt blank, and her body resounded with a sense of exhaustion. Night after night of poor sleep compounded until it was a boulder pressing down on her brain.

Her schoolwork was suffering, too. She was falling asleep in class, her assignments were late, and her scores were sliding precariously downward. Her math test from Tuesday, which, under normal circumstances would have been labeled with a high A, was instead a very low B. For Celestia’s sake, her latest chemistry quiz came back with a previously unimaginable C minus.

Twilight had offered to help her, awkwardly dancing around the word “tutoring”. Before that point, she would have refused. Her pride as Celestia’s pupil would never have allowed it. Before that point, she wouldn’t have needed it. But between her grades, the exhaustion, poor sleep, and the sad look in Twilight’s eyes, she was about ready to give in.

The girls had tried to distract her from it all. But no matter where she went, the flashbacks followed her. Applejack’s farm, Rarity’s boutique, even spending time on the sports field with Dash brought back…she didn’t know what. Her past, whatever the hay it was, wouldn’t leave her alone.

Raising her head from the table, she picked languidly at her salad bowl. Even her appetite seemed muted. “This is impossible!” she moaned.

“Cheer up, Sunset,” said Applejack. “Like you said. there’s gotta be an answer somewhere.”

“Yeah,” added Pinkie. “I bet we’ll find something real soon…the Secret Origin of Sunset Shimmer!” She gasped. “What if it turns out that you’re actually some kind of space adventurer from another planet?!”

“Pinkie, dear,” said Rarity, “Sunset is already from another planet.”

“Nah-uh,” Pinkie shot back. “She’s from another universe. That’s a completely different part of space-time.”

Sunset let out an empty chuckle. “Thanks for the encouragement, Pinkie, but the way things are going, I might as well have been delivered by the stork for all the difference it would make.” She looked to Twilight. “Back at the library, you said there were some last-ditch methods to try. What are they?”

Twilight squirmed in her seat. “Checking microfilm copies and encyclopedias.”

The redhead sighed. “Worth a shot. I’ll swing by the library and…” she caught the look of discomfort on Twilight’s face. “You already did that, didn’t you?”

Twilight nodded sadly. “There was nothing, or at least, nothing we didn’t already uncover.” She bit her lip, looking almost on the verge of tears.

“Twilight dear, you’re doing your best,” soothed Rarity.

The former unicorn sighed again, nibbling on a piece of salad. Her eyes moved down to her bag, where her journal rested. Maybe it was time to take Princess Luna’s offer. They’d done so much work, exhausted so many options, and Twilight was clearly near her wit’s end. She should just bite the bullet, as the expression went over here.

“Maybe I should take Prin—” she began.

“I have one more thing to try,” interrupted Twilight.

Sunset looked at her in surprise. “What is it?”

“When I get home, I’ll start a search on a newspaper archive site, and a genealogy service.” The girl squared her shoulders. “That should turn up something, I’m sure.”

“Don’t those sorts of sites require a subscription fee?” Sunset asked, but she already knew the answer. Guilt washed over her. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t,” Twilight insisted sharply, a move that seemed to startle her as much as everyone else. “I mean,” she continued. “It’s really nothing. I went to Crystal Prep, remember? My allowance is more than enough to pay a few subscription fees.” Her eyes fixed themselves on the redhead. “I’m more worried about you, Sunset. You should have just stayed home.”

Sunset shook her head. “Can’t miss too many more days.”

They ate lunch in relative peace after that. Sunset slogged through her food, her mind a thousand miles away. Why couldn’t she find herself? Why couldn’t she remember her own nightmares? It just didn’t make any sense. What the hay was wrong with her that she couldn’t remember?

Was there something wrong with her?

Across the table, Pinkie Pie began playing with her cutlery, having already inhaled her food. Tap, tap, tap, went the spoons on the table’s plastic surface.

Spoons clicked together in a rhythmic beat. She looked upon it with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. “Can’t you play a real instrument?”

Sunset groaned as pain once again stabbed through her skull, not even bothering to try and cling to whatever had jolted from the depths of her malfunctioning memory. “Pinkie Pie, could you stop doing that?” she said, trying her best not to sound snappish. “It’s giving me a headache.”

Pinkie Pie held out her hands apologetically. “Sorry, Sunny.”

Far too quickly, the lunch bell rang, and everyone packed up to go to their next class. As she dumped the contents of her tray, which amounted to half the entire meal, in the garbage, Sunset caught her reflection in the nearby window. She stood transfixed, taking in her tired, cyan eyes, shadowed by burgeoning dark rings, her long, messy red and gold hair, her slumped shoulders and amber skin.

“Sunset?”

The redhead turned to look at Rarity. “Do I look different to you?”

“Well, you do look rather dreadful, but that’s hardly surprising,” Rarity offered.

The former unicorn shook her head. “No, I mean…do I look…normal?”

Rarity’s brow furrowed. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Sunset pulled her eyes away from the window. “Nevermind,” she said. “I need to get to class. See you later.”

Sunset trudged into her next class, which happened to be history. Sitting at her desk, the former unicorn let out a mighty yawn. She just had to make it through the rest of today, and then after that…honestly, she’d probably sleep through the whole weekend, homework or no. Horseapples, she’d probably pick up some sleeping pills or something just to ensure she stayed asleep. Poor quality or not, raw quantity would help get her strength back.

Hopefully.

The redhead reached down to move her bag out of the walkway, she’d dropped it beside her desk, when it was kicked by a passing leg.

“Oops,” sneered Hoops Dunkington, “my bad.”

While Sunset had been the biggest bully at Canterlot High prior to the Fall Formal, she’d hardly been the only one. Hoops was one of the others, along with his toadies Dumb-Bell and Score. In fact, from what Rainbow and Fluttershy had told her, the three jocks had been bullies as far back as elementary school, when her friends had lived in a different part of the city.

Getting Hoops and his gang under her thumb had been fairly easy. Like most bullies, he was lacking in the brains and imagination department, and was, among other things, a cheat. Acquiring blackmail material on him had been foal’s play.

That threat was probably a big reason why Hoops and his gang kept away from the Rainbooms these days. Not that it was enforceable anymore. Sunset had deleted all of her blackmail material not long after the Formal.

Why he was messing with her now, she didn’t know. Had he grown a spine and decided to risk the blackmail? Or had her increasing exhaustion sent up a red flag of some kind?

She shot him a glare, but it barely had any power behind it.

Hoops smirked, but said nothing else, continuing on to his seat. From the corner of her eye, she saw her bag get picked up off the floor.

“Here you go,” said Flash Sentry, who, as always, was seated right behind her. He craned his neck to meet her eyes, and his expression shifted into a deep frown. “Wow, Sunset, you look awful.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” she answered tiredly. She yawned again as she took the bag from him and placed it on the other side of the desk where it wouldn’t get kicked.

“Seriously, though, what’s up with you lately?”

“It’s complicated,” she yawned again. “But part of it is I’m having trouble sleeping.”

“All week? Geez.” Flash gave her one of his dopey smiles. “Well, I hope you get better.”

“Me, too,” she yawned back, just as Mr. Written Record entered the classroom.

On any other day, she would have gotten her notebook out and scribbled furiously to keep up. History, for obvious reasons, was her weakest subject, and she’d always paid extra attention in class to both maintain her grades, and blend in with those around her.

Today however, Sunset placed her arms across the desk and laid her head down. half-dozing in the sunlight streaming from the window beside her. Yesterday, Written Record had surprised everyone with a special two-part discussion that veered away from the curriculum, as a reward for the tie at the Friendship Games.

The subject was, he said, one that interested him, and which he promised would interest the class: the history of the modern police force. Sunset didn’t really care, and she knew she wasn’t alone in that department. But, hey, it was basically a free class, so who was going to complain?

“Welcome back, class,” said the portly Written Record. “Last time, we talked about the machinations of London’s infamous thief-taker general, and the thief that took him down, and now, we’ll continue on with…”

Sunset tuned the rest out, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. Outside the window lay the portal to Equestria. The portal home. She wanted to give Twilight the chance to do one last look, but if it didn’t work, she’d be crossing over that threshold for the first time in months.

She wondered what Princess Luna was like. Vice Principal Luna wasn’t really the best indicator. After all, the human Twilight and human Celestia were still quite different from their counterparts. Would she be like Celestia, with that effortless grace and calm smile?

“As the twentieth century came around, policing began to develop not only in terms of forensic science, but also in terms of tools and infrastructure,” said Mr. Written Record, his words floating half-listened to in her ear. “For example, I know many of you may not be able to imagine those primitive times before the advent of the cellphone.”

He paused to allow a collective groan to rise up from the class. Only Sunset didn’t participate.

“In fact,” continued the teacher, “you may be shocked to learn that even radio technology wasn’t as prevalent as it is now. These days, a police officer can radio in for information or backup or whatever they need, even if they don’t have their phone. But this was not always the case. Back in centuries past, officers communicated with each other via a police box.”

The room went dark as Written Record set up the projector. “Here’s a picture of the one installed in 1877 in Albany, New York, the very first built in the United States.”

Sunset’s eyes drifted from the window back to the front of the class, blinking away the spots that danced in her vision.

“And here,” continued Written Record, swapping photos, “is one from London in the 1920s. I know it’s in black and white, color photos wouldn’t be common until the 1970s, but if this were in color, you’d see that the police box there was a very nice shade of blue. In fact, most of them were, with the exception of…”

Sunset’s vision cleared, and the old photo of London came into view. She could make out the street signs, the severe-faced officer in the foreground, and there in the background, as Written Record said, was the…the blue…

The blue police box.

A box, blue and strange and ever-so out of place. So small, but inside there was so much. Bigger on the inside. Everything crammed into that tiny space.

“Is it infinite?”

“Theoretically, yes, but for obvious reasons, no one’s ever had the time to prove it.”

Humming filled her ears, like an engine, but also somehow like the beat of a heart. Engines that wheezed and groaned like an asthmatic set of lungs, but which promised so much.

“Well, do you fancy a trip around the Twelve Galaxies?”

Mechanical, but not quite. Corridors that moved, walls that changed, sometimes in play, sometimes in aid. An unmappable infinity full of surprises.

“You’ve got a swimming pool in here? Wicked!”

“Yes, and over there is the sauna, I believe. Or is that the garden? One can never be too sure.”

Metal, but…

“You’re talking about it like it’s alive or something.”

“Well, she is, in a manner of speaking.”

Images fired through her brain, faster than ever before. Too many. Too much inside. Too much to handle. It was like a tsunami, sweeping her away with its raw destructive power, stealing her breath and her sense of direction as she was swallowed by the water.

Where was she? Everything was changing so fast. No, not just where. When. Time and space combined. The future…

“…look what they’ve done to the…”

The past…

“You’re still a lousy parker.”

Her whole body shook. Was she standing? Or was she still sitting? Nothing made sense. Nothing was clear. There was activity around her, but all she could see, all she could focus on, was the box. The box. Her…her…

“This is the only home I’ve got now, okay?”

Home.

“And this is your room. Decorate it however you wish.”

Not home.

“You’re not going to try and stop me…are you?”

Water transformed to air, and the tsunami became a hurricane, bigger than sanity should have ever allowed. Big, so big. So much in her head. The blue box. The hurricane.

“Bigger than anything you will have ever seen on Earth.”

The world around her spun. Faster and faster, round and round. A great big vortex of times and places. Every when. Every where. She’d seen it. Seen it within those blue walls. But the walls weren’t there now. Nothing to protect her from the chaos. Just like the…

Time storm.

Suddenly, everything shifted into reverse. Air was water again. Images ran backwards. Not a storm. Not a wave. A whirlpool, like the kind in myth and legend, pulling her down into its depths. Down below the surface. Down where there was no sun, no light. Down where she couldn’t scream, couldn’t breath. Spiraling into oblivion.

Down…down…down…

The floor rushed to meet her, and the last thing Sunset Shimmer knew was darkness.

Lights prodded at her through her eyelids. Sunset groaned, putting a hand over her face. “Too bright,” she moaned.

Sunset Shimmer cracked her eyes open, and found herself face to face with the white-tiled ceiling, and a barely muted fluorescent light. She winced as a particularly powerful headache made itself known. She felt like the time she’d pushed herself to complete magical exhaustion, multiplied by a factor of thirty.

“What happened?”

“You fainted, young lady,” said Nurse Redheart, arms crossed over her chest.

Fainted? She’d never fainted in her life! Sunset probed her memory. The last thing she could recall was being in history class, and then…nothing. Total blank.

Sunset groaned again, placing a hand over her eyes. She’d had another episode.

“From what Mr. Record said, it seems like you had some kind of seizure,” continued the nurse. She gave Sunset a serious, questioning look. “Is there any history of epilepsy in your family?”

The former unicorn’s jaw went slack. “A…s-seizure?” Fear crept up her spine in icy tendrils. Was that it? Was that the reason she couldn’t remember her past, despite all the dreams, all the flashbacks? Was there…was there something literally wrong with her brain?

“Sunset,” said Nurse Redheart. “Do you have a history of it in your family?”

“I…” The redhead suddenly found swallowing hard. “I don’t know.”

Nurse Redheart sighed, running a hand through the top of her hair, threatening to dislodge her bun. “You know, combined with how exhausted you looked when they brought you in, I was ready to call the paramedics and rush you to the hospital.”

Sunset’s heart skipped a beat. “You didn’t call them, did you? I don’t need a hospital, really! I’m okay now!” She hopped to her feet, only to find her leg muscles reduced to jelly, and her head spinning like a top.

Nurse Redheart caught her before she hit the floor, easing her back into a lying position. “I didn’t call them,” she said firmly. “Principal Celestia insisted it wasn’t necessary.” She frowned. Clearly, the idea had not sat well with her.

“I’m kind of…scared of hospitals,” Sunset offered. More like she was scared of government agents discovering she was an illegal alien and dissecting her. But none of that was something she was willing to share with Nurse Redheart. Just because the school knew about magic didn’t mean she had to blab everything.

She made a mental note to thank the principal for saving her flank.

Nurse Redheart sighed, shaking her head. “Alright, I get it. I would like an explanation, though. Or is this one of those magic things we’re not supposed to prod you or your friends about?”

Sunset licked her lips, which suddenly felt as dry as a desert. Was this magic-related? Or was this some kind of disease? Was it related to how she lost her memory in the first place?

And why on Terra did this have to be so complicated?

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, before reciting the same explanation she’d given Saffron Masala all the way back on Sunday. Sweet Celestia, that felt like a lifetime ago. “I’ve had amnesia since I was little, and lately, I think my memories have been trying to come back. Kinda made it hard to sleep this past week.”

Not the only problem, was the thing she didn’t say. From her position on the cot, she couldn’t see the window, but she knew that if she did, if she caught her reflection in the glass, she’d be hit with that same haunting sense of wrongness that she couldn’t pin down.

Nurse Redheart’s eyes softened. “And you’re sure there isn’t a doctor you can consult about this? A neurologist or a psychologist?”

Sunset shook her head. “I had an offer, uh, back home, but…I haven’t taken it.” Her mind drifted to the portal, ready and waiting to open. “I guess I don’t have a choice now,” she whispered. “Do I?”

A knock came at the door. Nurse Redheart opened it a crack.

“’Scuse us, Nurse Redheart, but has Sunset come ‘round yet?”

The woman nodded. “I’ll let you have a few minutes, but she needs her rest.”

She slipped out, and like an overstuffed closet, her friends came tumbling in.

“Sunset Shimmer!” cried Pinkie, pulling Sunset back up into a sitting position and wrapping her in a frankly suffocating hug. “We heard about what happened!”

“Pinkie, let her breathe!” said Rainbow, yanking their friend off of her.

“Thanks,” said the former unicorn. Near the back of the group, Sunset spotted Twilight, head hanging low. “Sparky? You okay?”

“I should be asking you that,” she choked. “I’m sorry.” Her lip quivered. “I’m so sorry. I should have done better. I…”

“Stop talking like that, Sparky,” said Sunset. “This isn’t your fault.”

“She’s right, you know,” added Rarity. “We’ve all been doing what we could.”

“And I think,” Sunset continued with a sigh. “That’s it’s time I take up Luna’s offer. Can somebody get my—”

“Here you go, Sunset,” said Fluttershy, holding out the worn hardback book. “We got your bag from class.”

Sunset took the book, holding it reverently for several long seconds. What should've just been a polite way to keep contact with Twilight was now, in a very real way, her only lifeline.

She gingerly opened the cover, then thumbed through the pages for the latest blank entry. Before she even had a chance to reach for her pocket, Fluttershy also handed her a pen, which she accepted with a grateful smile.

Placing the tip against the paper, she gave one final sigh, and began to write the words Dear Princess Twilight.

Look out, Equestria, Sunset Shimmer was coming home.

Gilda languidly tossed a baseball up toward the ceiling. She missed the catch this time, and it thudded on the bed next to her head.

She sighed, dragging her hand down her face. Jeez, she was bored. Dad was out…again. She’d eaten her dinner, the rat had taken to the remains. Her homework lay half-done. She wasn’t getting far on math, anyway.

She checked her phone. Still nothing from Dash. Nothing all week. Gilda’s lips pinched together, her nostrils flaring. “Probably busy with her band,” she grumbled.

Gilda flung the phone onto her mattress, digging her fingers into her hair. Why did her life have to suck so much?!

Suddenly, her phone buzzed. Gilda snatched it back up. A text from Mr. Redbeak.

Have an extra job for you. Meet up at 2750 Ruby Road at seven tonight.

Gilda smiled. At least somebody wanted her around.