//------------------------------//
// "Only one more thing to take care of..." 
// Story: An It Harm None 
// by DuncanR 
//------------------------------//

Within an hour, they had a plan. Maggie provided them with a sack of white powder, which Rainbow Dash carried high into the sky and scattered through the clouds. The rest of them hiked up the mountainside, heading for the cave entrances they’d come across earlier. Within minutes the clouds above began to swell... not with rain, but snow. Maggie’s bag of cloud-seed, combined with Dash’s affinity for the weather, had worked perfectly.
The thick whiteout made it impossible to see, but Twilight’s cartographic skills served them well. When they arrived at the cave Rainbow Dash was waiting for them.
“Hey, girls!”
“And Spike,” Spike grumbled.
“Hey, it’s cool.” Dash rubbed her hoof against the top of his head. “You’re totally one of the girls. Like... an honorary girl.”
“Let’s just get this over with.” Spike hopped off Twilight’s back and climbed onto Dash’s. “Are you sure this will work?”
“Nothing is certain.” Maggie handed him a clay bottle sculpted in the shape of a fossilized skull. “When the time comes, pour this on your scales. Try not to drink it or get it in your eyes.”
“You got it.”
“And remember,” added Twilight. “You must wait for the signal. Not a second too early or too late.”
“I know, already. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”
“Well, one more time couldn’t hurt. Just don’t take any unnecessary risks.”
Maggie arched an eyebrow. “What about necessary risks?”
Twilight paused. She then grabbed Spike’s face by the cheeks. “This is important, but it could also be very dangerous. You come back to me, all right?”
Spike pressed his hand against her hoof. ”I can do this. I promise.”
Rainbow Dash leapt into the air and flew into the snowstorm with Spike on her back. They paused to watch as the whiteout swallowed them up and obscured them from view.
“Clock’s ticking,” Maggie said, “and we have a long walk ahead of us. I hope you know how to navigate a maze.”
Twilight nodded. “I’m a professionally trained cartographer, and I’ve gone spelunking before. I can map a cave network no problem.”
“Oh? And can you map a three-dimensional maze without the use of a compass?”
A smile crept over Twilight’s face. “Now that’s more like it!”
 
 
 
Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Maggie walked through the depths of the caverns. They encountered engravings and inscriptions, just as before, but the further they went the more prevalent they became. They passed columns and pillars and walked across bridges and balconies, until the natural cave walls gave way entirely to halls and corridors.
Twilight unfurled her scroll and scanned the edges. Her ‘map’ covered no less than seven separate scrolls, linked by numerical codes. She passed the scroll back to Spike, who stowed it in her saddle bag with the rest.
“This is unbelievable,” she said. “I can understand how a natural cave system could be so large... but an artificial structure? This would have taken hundreds of years to make!”
“Thousands,” said Maggie.
“But who could have built this? The Drizzly Bears don’t have the expertise or the technology, and the Goblin tribes didn’t have the attention span.”
Maggie shrugged “Nobody built it,” she said. “It builds itself.”
“That’s highly improbable.”
“Why should it be? Forests grow on their own. Mountains form by themselves. This is just another kind of pattern.”
Twilight shook her head. “This is different. If it’s a natural phenomenon, then why does it resemble civilized architecture?”
Maggie turned to look at a nearby stone column. “Seeds grow into trees. Is that natural?”
Applejack’s attention snapped back to the present. “Sure it is!”
“And what if someone places them? What if you clear the land and plant trees in rows? Is that natural?”
“Well... there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
Maggie arched an eyebrow. “So if you went into a wild forest and found trees growing in neat rows—all the same, with no other plants around—would that be natural?”
“Well, that would be mighty odd.”
“That’s because agriculture doesn’t exist in nature. It’s an invention of civilized folk.”
Applejack frowned at her. “Are you saying farms and orchards are wrong?”
“I don’t know,” said Maggie. “Are they?”
“But these are caves,” said Applejack. “They don’t grow.”
“Actually they do,” said Twilight, “,n a long enough time scale, that is. But that still doesn’t explain the architecture.”
Maggie paused to stroke the wall. “What if you could change what a seed becomes? Make it bear a different kind of fruit, or something other than fruit? All you’d have to do is plant it, and the rest would take care of itself...”
Applejack tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” Maggie said, and marched onward. “Nevermind.”
Applejack glanced at a nearby wall and brightened up. “Hey, that’s different!”
“Hm?” Twilight looked to where Applejack was standing. “What is it? More inscriptions?”
“Better’n that. There’s pictures here!”
Maggie looked back at her. “What?”
Twilight went over and cast her light upwards. Instead of rune-script, there were rows of illustrations... simple, crude pictures of bears. The drawings were flat and repetitive: more like diagrams than decorations.
“They’re like hieroglyphs, but much more elaborate.” Twilight moved closer. “Some of these rows are pictograms—probably a written language—but a lot of them are illustrations. This could be a chronicle of ancient Ursine society: of their everyday activities and events!”
Applejack wandered ahead, curious. “Their artists didn’t know much about art: Everything’s all the wrong size. Rarity would flip her lid if she saw this.”
Twilight followed alongside her. “It’s called ‘vertical perspective.’ It isn’t meant to be realistic. The size and placement of the figures indicates their importance. See here? Their leaders are twice as big as the others, and the laborers are tiny.”
Maggie cleared her throat. “We’re in a terrible rush, you two.”
“I know, I know... I only need a minute.” Twilight walked alongside the wall, captivated. “Carpentry, stone quarrying, pottery... this must be what their society was like long ago.”
Applejack pointed up at a section. “Look over here... there’s a bunch of bears with chisels and hammers.”
“They really did discover written language on their own! They must have been more advanced than I thought.” Twilight frowned. “...What could have happened to them?”
Maggie cleared her throat. “We. Are in. A hurry.”
Twilight turned to Maggie, but stopped when she saw Applejack: She was staring at a section of the wall ahead, perfectly still... eyes wide.
“Applejack? Is something wrong?”
“I... had a... dream...”
Twilight went to her side and peered up at the wall. There, in a position of prominence, was a massive bull... but in place of a head, it had a second torso with muscular arms and curved horns. It’s entire body was clad in armor and a legion of bears were arranged to either side of it, brandishing weapons.
Twilight stared up at the carving. “Wha—”
Maggie’s broom swept over the illustration and the stroke gouged fissures in the wall and sent a shower of stone chips to the floor. The figure was destroyed, and the surrounding inscriptions were illegible.
“Maggie! How could you!”
Maggie marched onward. “We’re going now.”
Twilight and Applejack watched her go, and shared a glance. They followed her at a distance.
Applejack leaned close with a whisper. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” said Twilight, “but the figure in the inscription... it had the features of a bull.”
Applejack shivered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”
“These corridors are built like a maze... a labyrinth.” Twilight looked at the wall. “What has the features of a bull and lives in a labyrinth?”
Applejack’s eyes widened. “...A minotaur?”
“Yes, but this seemed... different.”
“It’s not a problem for us now, is it? These pictures must be hundreds of years old. Thousands, maybe.”
Twilight looked up at the inscriptions as they walked. There weren’t any more depictions of bulls or cows, but there were other things... other differences. The bears were shown working with metal instead of stone. Living in houses instead of burrows. Hunting in packs instead of alone. Drawing symbols instead of pictures. Marching in rows and carrying flags. The inscriptions beyond the destroyed figure chronicled a millennia’s worth of technological advances, all in the space of a dozen meters.
 
 
 
Eventually, they reached the heart of the twisting labyrinth. The chaotic, random layout turned neat and orderly. They had come to the lowest level of the stronghold itself: vast aqueducts, filled with stagnant, mirror-black water. After that, the dungeons: hallways lined with prison cells, replete with iron doors and bars.
These areas were sparsely populated, but Maggie assured them that they would go unnoticed. The bears used charms and hexes to seek out intruders, but Maggie had charms of her own to keep them hidden from mystical scrying. The charms did nothing to hide them from plain sight, though: They keep to the shadows wherever possible, and darted past several patrols. The guards here weren’t particularly alert.
Maggie went to an archway and waved them inside. “Quickly now. This will take us to the roof.”
The small room turned out to be a vertical shaft that went up further than they could see.
Applejack squinted straight up. “How are we supposed to get up there? I don’t see any stairs.”
Twilight tilted her head. “Is there an elevator of some sort? A rope platform, maybe?”
“There’s a ladder.” Maggie pointed at a series of metal rungs bolted into the stone.
“A what?” Applejack stared at the rungs. “Oh, no... that’s no ladder.”
Maggie looked at the ladder, then back to them with a shrug.
“It’s too steep,” said Twilight. “We can’t climb a ladder like that. Can we find an alternate route?”
Maggie rolled her eyes and began climbing up. The rungs were sized for bears, and she had to stretch her arms to reach them.
“Maggie!” Applejack called. She glanced at the open archway behind them and lowered her voice. “Maggie, we can’t go up there!”
“Then stay behind. I don’t actually need your help anymore. I can do the rest of this myself.”
Twilight called after her. “But the bears! If you go through with the plan they’ll sound the alarm! What’ll happen to us, then?”
“Just watch me care,” she called down.
Twilight clenched her teeth and looked at her friend.
“We at least have to try,” said Applejack. She put a hoof on one of the rungs, testing the weight. “Remember the ladders in the library? We can climb those, right?”
“Those are different! They’re step-ladders!”
“Just think of those while you’re climbing these.” Applejack hooked her ankle around a rung, keeping her hoof tilted down. “Just take it one rung at a time. We’ll get there eventually.”
Twilight watched as Applejack climbed the sheer surface by hooking her front ankles on each rung. She tried to stand on the lower rungs, but her hooves slipped on the metal. She tried again, slow and cautious.
Twilight took a breath and followed after her. The climb was excruciating: after only a minute, the backs of their ankles were bruised and tender from being scraped against metal. Despite the pain, they managed to catch up with Maggie.
They reached the top and the little witch strained to open the trap door by herself, blinding them all with a burst of sunlight. They saw Maggie climb out, then heard a low growl followed by a brief scuffle. They climbed up after her and came to the top of a watch-post: a tall stone tower built into a corner of the stronghold’s outermost wall. There were stairs to each side, both leading down.
Applejack stared at a nearby bear, slumped on the ground. “Nice save, Maggie... you got him before he could raise an alarm.
“I even put him to sleep for you,” she said with a scowl. “Happy?”
Applejack smiled. “Yeah, actually.”
They heard a gasp from Twilight Sparkle, peering over the watchtower’s parapets. They went to her side and looked at the fortress below. The area enclosed within the mighty walls resembled a jumbled stone city: Houses and forts were stacked in irregular heaps and piles, and small inner walls divided the open space into courtyards and gardens. The only plants in sight were gnarled trees and prickly shrubs. There were a few hundred drizzly bears meandering through the courtyards and walkways, going about their daily business.
There, in the innermost yard, was a towering obelisk. A giant needle of black stone, rising from the center of a wide, circular disc. The outer edge of the disc was ringed with stone poles, arranged like the spokes of a wheel. Chains and harnesses hung from each shaft.
Applejack stared at the pillar. “It even looks like a millstone. Sort of.”
“Appreciated, but.” Maggie put a hand under each of their chins and tilted their heads up.
The sky above was a churning maelstrom of dark and light clouds all whirling together. It was like looking up through the eye of a hurricane... all the way up to the blue sky. There were no cloud layers: this was a single storm that reached, unbroken, throughout the entire atmosphere. This storm didn’t just cover the stronghold: it loomed over the entire mountain.
Applejack stared, slack-jawed. “It’s almost beautiful...”
“It is beautiful,” said Maggie. “It’s also going to destroy your village within a month. Along with everything else for miles.”
“But why?” whispered Twilight. “Why would they do this?”
“Why do anything? Because they can.”
Twilight shook her head and gazed down at the rest of the stronghold. There were Drizzly Bears everywhere, but only a few seemed to be patrolling. “I’m not sure about this. Something’s not right.”
“Obviously,” said Maggie. “Isn’t that why we came here in the first place?”
“No, I mean...” Twilight surveyed the population. “They don’t seem to have an army. They have hunters, but no real soldiers.
“They’re a race of warriors. Their women and children would eat you alive if given half the chance... I’ve seen it. They don’t cook their meat, and they don’t take prisoners.”
Applejack’s eyes widened. “They’re farming the weather!”
Maggie’s eyes snapped to her. “What?”
“They’re not trying to destroy anything. They’re just cultivatin’ the weather. They like rainstorms!”
Maggie set her hands on her hips. “Their reasons don’t matter. They’re harming your home to improve theirs, and they’ll never negotiate. It’s the only way.”
Applejack looked at her, then back at the stronghold below. She bit her lower lip.
Maggie turned to Twilight. “Talk some sense into her. We don’t have any time to waste.”
“We have to do this,” said Twilight. “Even if they do have good reasons this sort of change to the environment isn’t healthy or natural. The Millstone is a source of incredible power, and the Drizzly Bears are abusing it. It will surely damage the ecology... to say nothing of how it could warp the Drizzly Bear’s own society.”
“Yeah,” Applejack said, “I guess cultivatin’ the land shouldn’t harm it.”
Twilight nodded. “I’ll give the signal. Dash and Spike should be somewhere up there, and as soon as they start, we run for the millstone.”
“You got it,” Applejack leaned against the parapets, trying to spy without being seen. She stood there next to Maggie for a long, quiet moment.
Applejack slowly raised her head and looked at Maggie.
“What?” Maggie said with the usual sarcasm.
“Why... are you... helping us?”
Maggie shrugged. “You asked for my help. And I’m getting half. That’s all.”
Applejack locked eyes with the little witch. “I know you don’t care about bein’ paid, and you said you don’t care about our village... that you weren’t our friend. So why are you doing all this?”
Maggie opened her mouth and waved at nothing in particular, trying to be casual about her loss of words. Applejack’s gaze turned into a squint.
A deafening roar from above caught their attention, and they looked up at the sky as a gargantuan winged reptile burst from the underside of the cloud bank. It was covered in gnarled black plates and curving spines, and the membranes of its bat-like wings were torn and ragged.
“Behold, mortals, and despair!” The dragon roared in a deep and resonant voice. “Malarog the Terrible has come for you at last!”
“That’s the signal!” shouted Twilight. She ran for the stairs that led down. “We don’t have long!”
Applejack’s attention snapped back to the present. All three of them rushed down the treacherous stone stairs and threaded their way through the various courtyards and gardens. The Drizzly Bears ignored them completely: They were busy fleeing in terror.
“Impudent fools!” The dragon roared. “Did you truly believe my wrath would sleep forever? You have sown the bitter seeds of your own despair, and now you will reap my vengeance!”
Applejack’s pace slowed as they passed a tiny bear on the ground. It was covering its face and bawling. A larger bear scooped him up and held him tight, shielding him with her body as she ran for cover.
“Applejack! Keep up the pace!”
She snapped from her trance and chased after her friend. “Twi? I think this was a mistake! A big one!”
Twilight nodded onward. “Don’t give up hope! We’re almost there!”
They came to the main courtyard, dominated by the massive black obelisk. It wasn’t any kind of stone Applejack recognized. It’s twisted surface glistened like black glass.
“The Keystone! We need to—”
Twilight’s voice cut off as a huge weight crashed down on her: a hooded bear with an ornate metal staff. There was a burst of light, and a wave of magical force hurled the hooded bear aside.
Twilight stood her ground and lowered her head. “I’ll hold him off! You two deal with the keystone!”
Applejack stared in shock as Twilight charged the bear. Maggie gave her mane a tug. “Hurry! Help me look!”
Applejack nodded, and galloped around the obelisk’s foundation. She hadn’t realized how large it was: The circular base was thirty yards across and the narrow pillar was thirty yards high. She stared at the knobbled, thorny chunks along its surface, like chips of broken glass.
“Maggie? I don’t see any—”
One of the knobbly chunks opened up to reveal a pulsating, bloodshot eye the size of a watermelon. It twitched left and right before looking directly at her.
“Aaahh!!” Applejack reared up and scrambled backward.
“Keep searching!” Maggie shouted.
When Applejack looked back the eye was gone. She looked at Maggie and caught sight of Twilight on one of the walls behind her, fending off the hooded drizzly bear in a battle of pure magic. She couldn’t tell who was winning.
She looked up at the pillar. “I don’t see anything that looks like a key or a stone! It all looks the same!”
Maggie ran over. “I figured it wouldn’t be this easy. Come over here.”
“What? Where? Why?”
Maggie went to one of the spokes and grabbed the chains hanging down. “We need to get you into one of these harnesses!”
“What! Are you crazy!?”
“The pillar of the Millstone goes down into the earth like a drill. If we turn it backwards, it should rise up and expose the keystone!”
“A drill? Why would it even do that?!” Applejack stamped a hoof. “That’s not how a millstone works at all!”
“It’s not really a Millstone! It’s just called that!” Maggie threw her hands up. “Why are we wasting time talking about this?! Just get over here!”
“No-way no-how! We came here to stop the dang thing! Not to start it up!”
“Run, cowards!” The dragon boomed. “I am really big, really scary, and really... real! I am a dragon that is totally real, and I... hate... puppies!”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I knew we should have given him a longer script. He won’t fool anyone for much longer!”
Twilight ran over, dizzy from exertion. “Did you... get the... thingy?”
Maggie shook her head. “We need to turn the Millstone backwards to reveal the keystone!”
Twilight nodded. “We’ll need help. I’ll call Dash and Spike down. I think the distraction has done its job.”
“You... you don’t honestly...!” Applejack pointed at Maggie. “You don’t trust her, do you!?”
Twilight rushed close and spoke softly. “You can recognize honesty when you see it. It’s your... element. Look her straight in the eyes and ask her a question. If anypony can tell if she’s lying, it’ll be you.”
Applejack swallowed, then nodded. She went to Maggie and watched as she sorted out the harness.
“Maggie?” she said. “This plan of yours... turning the Millstone, I mean. It’s not going to cause anything bad to happen, is it?”
“No. Like I said, we’ll be turning it backwards.”
“And the keystone... you’re sure it’ll come out if we turn it?”
“Nothing is certain. But I’m reasonably sure.”
Applejack stared at the chains. “And once we’re done turning you’ll let us go, right?”
Maggie turned and gave Applejack her full and undivided attention. “What are you—”
Applejack marched directly in front of her, locking eyes with her. Maggie pressed her back against the stone but didn’t break eye contact.
“This plan of yours: is it on the level? Have you lied to us?”
Maggie clenched her jaw, hesitant.
“Yes,” she said, “I have lied to you. But it was necessary. I promise this will end well, and I will explain everything later.”
Applejack squinted at her, but went to the chains. “Better suit me up, then. We don’t have long.”
Maggie clapped a harness around her neck and began attaching the chains.
Just then, the black dragon landed nearby. The gargantuan reptile was nothing but an ephemeral shell: a smattering of colored droplets suspended in the shape of a living thing. Spike climbed off Rainbow Dash and the illusion of dots mirrored his movements perfectly. When he touched the ground, the colored shell scattered and vanished.
Spike ran over. “How was I?”
Applejack smirked. “It was more convincing when you were way up high. And your ad-libbing needs work.”
“Sorry about that. I think I read the script way too fast.”
Dash went over to Twilight. “Are you gonna be okay? You look kinda woozy.”
Twilight shook her head, as if trying to wake up. “Sorry. There was a... bear.”
“Dash!” called Applejack. “We need your help to turn this thing backwards. There’s no time to waste!”
Dash eyed Maggie. “Oh really now?”
“Dash, please! If I can trust her, so can you!”
Dash rushed to her side and stood at attention as Maggie harnessed her to the spoke.
Twilight came over, still woozy. “Is there room for three?”
“No way,” said Dash. “Go lie down for awhile. We need you to be rested when we break out of here.”
“Right... right.” Twilight paused. “Hey, is there... room for... three?”
“Twilight? Are you...” Dash gasped as a thin trickle of blood dripped from Twilight’s nose. “Twilight!”
“What’s goin on back there?” called Applejack.
Maggie carefully pried Twilight’s eyelid open. She felt her pulse, but quickly pulled her hand away and shook a faint dust from her fingers. “Twilight. When you fought the shaman, did he do anything strange? Did he use any kind of powder?”
“Yeah, he... threw a bag of... something. Something itchy.”
Maggie’s voice softened. “Twilight. Go lie down for awhile. I’ll be right over.”
Applejack struggled against her harness, trying to look back. “Maggie? What’s going on? She’ll be fine, won’t she?”
Maggie kept her voice low. “The pollen of the Black Chrysanthemum. It’s the strongest poison I know of. Even a tiny pinch is enough to—”
Rainbow Dash pointed at her. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Can’t you do something for her?”
“Yes,” she said. “I can make her... comfortable.”
Rainbow Dash and Applejack stared at her.
“Pull!” said Maggie. “Pull, or we’ll share her fate for nothing! Now is not the time to grieve!”
The two ponies shared a glance and began pulling against their chains. Their hooves skidded against the stone floor. The pillar refused to budge.
“We can’t do this!” shouted Dash. “It would take a hundred ponies to turn this thing!”
“We’re not giving up now!” said Applejack. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can help Twilight!”
“Don’t say that! She doesn’t need help! She’ll be fine!”
Applejack smiled at her. “Of course she’ll be fine! She’s got her friends with her, doesn’t she?”
“Twilight? Twilight!” Spike’s raspy voice broke the silence. “Maggie, what’s wrong with her? She’s not breathing! Why isn’t she breathing!?”
Dash gasped. “We should be there with her!”
“We have a job to do, and we’re going to do it! She wouldn’t want us to give up!”
“But she’s all alone! We can’t let her die alone!”
“Don’t say that!”
Rainbow Dash flinched as Applejack shouted at her. Her face was clenched with anger and tears.
Another cry from Spike startled them. They’d both heard him cry before, when begging for snacks or complaining about chores. This was different. No words... only a long, ragged wail wracked with sobs.
They heaved against their chains, focusing on the impossible task before them. Anything to distract them from the raw pain in Spike’s voice.
The pillar began to turn.
 
 
 
Dash and Applejack lost all track of time as they heaved against their restraints. They could tell the pillar was moving, but there was no real sense of progress. No way to know how far they’d come or how much further remained.
At last they came full circle, just enough to see Twilight Sparkle lying on her side, completely limp. Spike was clutching her neck with his face buried in her mane. He was silent, but his back shuddered violently. It was odd to see her so still... she did nothing to hold or cradle him in response. Her face was utterly blank.
Maggie ran past, startling them. “There... perfect! I’ll have it out in a moment!” She scrambled to climb up the edge of the circular foundation. 
Applejack stared at Twilight aghast as she called to Maggie. “Get us out of these chains this instant!”
They heard a slight grinding sound. A moment later Maggie return with a small black cube. She climbed down from the foundation and strolled past them.
“Maggie? Maggie! You promised!”
Maggie walked backwards for a moment, spreading her hands to each side. “I said I would explain everything once this was all over. It isn’t over yet. Not quite.”
“Spike! Spike, get us out of these!”
If Spike heard them, he didn’t react. Maggie tossed the cube to herself and walked towards Twilight. “Only one more thing to take care of. One more loose thread.”
Spike lifted his head from Twilight’s mane. His eyes were puffy with tears and his face was twisted in fury. “You... will... pay!” He bared his fangs and claws.
Maggie watched him for a moment. Her hand darted out and splashed them both with a plume of white powder. Twilight’s eyes snapped wide open as she gasped for breath.
Spike spun to face her. “Twilight!”
“Wha...?” Twilight’s legs twitched as she tried to stand. “I wasn’t... tardy... was I...? I got a note... from the... Princess...”
Maggie unshackled Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both of whom rushed to their fallen friend.
“Land sakes, sugarcube! Are you all right!?”
“We thought you were...!” Dash said, but caught herself. “I mean, I didn’t... think you were... I knew all along. Really.”
Maggie smacked Dash upside the head. “Don’t cheapen the moment.”
Applejack stared at Maggie. “What happened? Really?”
“She was poisoned. By me.” She held up a vial of purple dust. “The pollen of the Black Chrysanthemum induces a death-like trance. I use it as a surgical anesthetic. It really is the most potent poison I know of, but it causes no lasting harm.”
“But the... the nosebleed!”
“An artful touch, yes, but not my doing. She fought a bear. She was bound to get knocked around a bit.”
“You wanted us to think she was...! Why would you do something so horrible!?”
“The Millstone of Misery cannot be moved by physical strength alone.” Maggie looked up at the obelisk. “...Not unless its hunger is fed.”
“Moondancer? Are you...” Twilight managed to right herself, despite her wobbly knees. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to lit class in time...”
“An astute observation,” Maggie turned and began walking away. “We have perhaps an hour before the locals come to their senses. If you wish to berate me with a moral tirade, I recommend that you do so as we walk.”
Twilight shook her head, eyes clearing. “What’s she going on about? Did we—?”
Spike slammed against her and hugged her tight. She gave him a gentle pat on the head. “Heh... glad to see you’re all right too. But we really need to—”
She grunted as Applejack and Rainbow Dash tackled her from each side in a group hug.
“Whoa! ’Kay, then... yeah. Did I miss something?”
“Yeah,” Spike said with a tearful smile. “You almost missed everything!”
 
 
 
They hiked back down the mountainside. They encountered no great obstacles or disasters, and the bears never sought reprisal. Despite everything that had happened, the mood was almost cheerful. The storms were gone. They were all alive and well. Everything had turned out for the best. They all chatted with each other, smiling and laughing. All but Maggie, who lagged a short distance behind.
They returned to the forest and Maggie led them back to her sod hut. Tarnhoof nuzzled her as she passed by, and she responded with an affectionate rub on the nose. The three ponies approached her together and Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat.
Maggie turned to her. “Are you still here?”
Applejack and Rainbow Dash glared at her.
Twilight stepped forward and nodded, grudgingly. “We appreciate your cooperation.”
Spike put his hands on his hips. “Bitter, much? If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.”
“After everything she put us through!?” said Dash.
“It turned out okay in the end, didn’t it? Come on. We can at least thank her.”
All three ponies grumbled and scratched at the ground.
Spike stepped forward and gave Maggie an elegant bow. “Thank you very much, Miss Magdalene. We couldn’t have done this without you.”
“I didn’t do it for you,” she said, cradling the Keystone in her arms. “Regardless, you don’t owe me anything. You did all the work... I wasn’t much more than a guide.”
“Then we helped each other.” He rose from his bow. “Neither of us could have done it alone.”
“I guess.” Maggie nodded to Twilight. “You may consider our contract fulfilled.”
“Our what-now?” said Applejack. “What’s she talking about?”
“Oh that.” Twilight shrugged. “I said that if she helped us we’d give her half of all our profits from the expedition.”
“We did this for free!” Applejack turned to Maggie. “What were you expectin’ half of, exactly?”
Maggie arched an eyebrow. “Does it matter?” she said. “Half of anything is quite substantial.”
There was a moment of awkward silence.
“So,” Twilight said, “what will you—”
Maggie hugged the Keystone tight. “You can’t have it.”
“But it’s so powerful. Shouldn’t it be locked up somewhere safe?”
Maggie set a hand on her hip. “The bears kept it in a stronghold filled with warriors, and that didn’t stop us from taking it.”
“But it’s a piece of ancient history. We could learn so much by studying it!”
“Some history is better left buried,” she said. “Look. You don’t want the bears to have it. I don’t want anyone to have it. We both go home happy.”
Applejack glowered at her. “And what are you going to do with it?”
“Bury it,” Maggie said. “The Keystone and the Millstone are each useless without the other. I cannot retake the Millstone and the Drizzly Bears will never find the Keystone. It is a stalemate that benefits all.”
Applejack stepped forward, but Twilight gently pulled her back before she could complain.
“I understand,” she said. “We appreciate your help. Really.”
Maggie looked around, self-consciously, and offered a brief curtsey of her own. “Just don’t tell anyone about me,” she said. She paused a moment to look them over. “Do you mean to embark immediately? When was the last time you slept?”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to impose.”
Maggie tilted her head. “I could make tea.”
Twilight brightened up. “Really? That would be wonderful! I think I’ll need a whole pot after the last three weeks... I’ll go start the kettle!”
        Applejack watched as Twilight rushed inside. “Doesn’t take much to make her happy.”
Dash nodded to Applejack. “I’ll need to go back to Ponyville to fetch another hot-air balloon, but it won’t take long if I go in a straight line. Two days, tops.”
Maggie nodded to her. “Your companions may rest here until you return. I will see that they are fed and bathed.”
“Thanks, but... I think they can wash themselves.” Dash spread her wings but hesitated. “Hey. I guess you really did help us out back there. And it’s nice of you to let my pals stay here.”
Maggie nodded.
“Hey, maybe you could come come and visit us at Ponyville sometime!”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Don’t even go there.”
Dash sighed. “Kinda figured.”
They watched the pegasus rise over the treetops and fly out of sight. Applejack gave Maggie a stern squint.
Maggie responded with a weary look. “What is it now?”
        “You said you’d lied to us. But you also said it would turn out well.”
        “It did, didn’t it?”
        “Yeah. But that don’t mean we approve of what you did. You coulda been a little more honest with us right from the get-go.”
        Maggie looked away, oddly self-conscious. “Deeds are exalted above words.”
        Applejack’s posture eased. “I guess you make your own kind of sense.”
Twilight peeked out of the hut. “Maggie? Where do you keep the—”
“It’s in a tin by the stove. You can have as much as you like.”
Twilight nodded. “Thank you! Shall I set out a cup for you, as well?”
“Not just now.” Maggie turned to look into the forest. “I need to take care of something.”
Applejack straightened up. “Oh! You need to visit your mother, don’t you? She’s probably worried sick about you. Well, we won’t keep you any longer.”
Maggie nodded and took up her broom. She walked into the forest and picked her way through the hidden paths beyond. Applejack watched her for a moment, then went into the hut with her friends.
 
 
 
Spike peered around the corner of a tree and watched Maggie walk into the forest, then waited until Applejack was inside the hut. Unseen, he followed Maggie into the forest.
All right, Spike. You’re just going to walk up to her and apologize. I mean, it’s not every day a dragon bares his teeth and claws at you. You probably scared the daylights out of her!
He ran through the underbrush with ease, pulling the vines and branches aside and snapping them with his tiny talons. He couldn’t see anything, but she was easy to follow... she had a weird smell that stood out to him. It wasn’t a bad smell—not a really bad smell—just weird.
He came to a clearing and ducked back under cover: her trail led to a small lake with a sandy beach. There was a tiny island in the middle of the water—just the top of a hill, really, with a single large tree on it.
She said she was visiting her mother... this must be where they meet.
Spike scanned the area and saw Maggie walking into the lake. It barely came up to her knees. She reached the island and sat on the bank with her toes in the water.
Spike crouched at the forest’s edge for half an hour, watching and waiting. No-one came. Nothing happened. She just sat there, hugging her knees.
 
 
 
Half an hour later, Spike followed her back to the hut and waited a minute before entering. Applejack and Twilight were sitting together, talking over tea. Maggie was tending the oven by herself.
Spike went to the table and pulled up a chair. “Hey. ’Sup?”
“Just reviewing my notes,” said Twilight. She nodded to the heap of scrolls and notebooks laid out on the table. “I’m still trying to assemble everything... I don’t suppose my number-one assistant could help me out?”
Spike shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to unwind for a while. Gotta relax my brain... thinky... stuff.”
“Somethin’ wrong?” said Applejack. “You always say alphabetizin’ things helps you relax.”
“Yeah, I know. Just not right now.”
Maggie stood. “I have to go chop some firewood. I promised Dash you’d all get a hot bath.”
“That’d be right decent of you,” Applejack said. “We really appreciate all this trouble you’re going to. Is there anything we can do to return the favour?”
“Yes,” she said as she shouldered her axe. “Leave.”
They watched her exit the sod hut.
Applejack sighed. “Well, she certainly prefers her privacy.”
“I’m not so sure,” said Spike. “I don’t think she’s happy here. Not at all.”
“She’s got her family, doesn’t she? She visits her mother.”
Spike looked away. “Yeah... sure.”
 



 
Rainbow Dash returned the next day with a fully functional balloon packed with fresh supplies, as well as everything she’d salvaged from their makeshift shelter. Maggie followed her guests to the balloon, but said nothing as they prepared to cast off. She waved goodbye as if it was a bothersome chore.
“Hey!” Spike called down. “You totally have to visit Ponyville sometime!”
“Don’t you threaten me!” she called back.
“No, seriously! Promise to visit? Even just once?”
“You’re inviting a witch into your village? You might want to think twice about that.”
“But you’re a good witch!”
“There are no good witches.” Maggie set her hands on her hips. “Nor are there bad ones. There are only witches.”
“Even witches need friends, don’t they?” Spike waved one last time as they lifted over the treetops. “You should make some friends, Maggie! You deserve some!”
Maggie stared up at them as they left. Spike could swear he saw her wave back... a feeble, half-conscious gesture.
Twilight rubbed Spike on the head. “Something tells me she’s not going to take you up on your offer.”
Spike shrugged. “Give her a few days. She might change her mind.”
“Oh? What makes you say that?”
“You never appreciate something until it goes away.” Spike sat down and leaned against Twilight’s leg. “Not really.”