Spike sighed for what had to have been the thousandth time as he plodded along on the treadmill. An older-looking, dark-brown Earth pony with a grey mane was nearby, muzzle stuck in a notebook in which he was writing furiously. Every now and then he checked the data that a computer was spitting out at an alarming rate.
“Isn’t that thing done yet?” the baby dragon whined, shifting the steel helmet with its blinking lights and wires. He used to call it the 'party hat' because it looked so ridiculous. Pinkie would have liked it. Twilight certainly did. He was glad she wasn’t here, she only made the whole process more annoying.
“Give it time,” Doc Murrow answered through the pencil in his mouth.
“I have. Three days time.”
“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” the doctor ordered, dropping the pencil and shifting some knobs. “You’ve only been running the treadmill for an hour.”
“Yeah, but I’ve been here three days,” Spike noted with a wave at the lab. “I should be back in Ponyville with Twilight! I have responsibilities, y'know.”
“You can’t go back to Ponyville until tomorrow, anyway,” Doc Murrow noted. “So just relax! We’re almost done.” He tapped a floor pedal and the treadmill at last stopped. Spike dropped into a sitting position with a relieved sigh and removed the helmet.
“According to Miss Sparkle’s notes,” the scientist went on while reading from the notebook, “your gem intake has gone up over twenty percent since last year.” He peered at Spike's belly.
“What?”
“Hmmm,” the Doctor grabbed a pencil and began scribbling. “You seem a bit chubby. I think I can chalk this down as overeating.”
“Hey! I eat just as much as my hunger demands!” Another lecturing glance. “Okay, so maybe I have the occasional late-night ruby, or slip some opals in my toast for breakfast. It’s no big deal. I mean, you don’t know anything about dragon anatomy. You can’t prove I’m wrong.”
The doctor turned to him with head high. “I am Equestria’s leading dragon expert!” He lowered his head. “But you’re right, I don’t know enough to be able to say that.”
“Hah!”
Doc Murrow poked him in the stomach. “One doesn’t have to know dragon anatomy to be able to see that you, Spike, are overeating! Now,” he switched topics with characteristic swiftness, “when was the last time you used your fire?”
“Last Friday,” Spike replied in a tired tone. “Back when Twilight and the others had to deal with that sleeping dragon.”
“Such a shame I couldn’t get to see that!” Doc Murrow noted with genuine regret. He stepped on another pedal, and a large metal plate dropped from the ceiling. “You know the drill.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Spike got in front of the plate, took a deep breath and let loose some dragon’s fire. His stomach twisted into knots; a simple belch was one thing, but prolonged breathing always made him queasy. He watched the doctor from the corner of his eye as the plate grew red. The pony was observing a small monitor.
“Twenty-four seconds!” Doc Murrow declared happily when the dragon could no longer keep the flame going. “That’s a five second improvement from last year.”
“Really?” Spike felt a little proud.
“Yes, remarkable improvement! No change in temperature, but perhaps that’s normal. You really should be enjoying this more. Just think of how you’re advancing our knowledge on dragons! I mean after all you are the—”
“—the first dragon to integrate into pony society, I know,” Spike muttered, sitting in a nearby chair. He set his cheeks in his claws with a glower.
“Don’t you want to help us to know more about your people?”
“I know everything I need to know,” the dragon answered sourly, and began to count on his claws. “My name’s Spike, I’m a dragon, I eat gems, and I like my naps.” He displayed his open claw at the pony. “I only need one arm to count ‘em. And right now I’m running low on gems and naps!”
“Well Princess Celestia thinks these tests are important,” Doc Murrow lectured even as he began to write something in another notebook, “like it or not, we’re gonna do this every year.”
“I know, I know,” Spike muttered. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Well I have good news for you then: we’re done!”
Spike raised his head. “Wait, we are? What happened to the lava test? And the wing check?”
“Not necessary,” Doc Murrow declared. “We know enough about your heat resistance, and I’m pretty sure you won’t be growing any wings this year, either. So yes, we’re done.”
“Oh, okay.” Spike dropped from the chair and stretched. “Thanks, Doc! Now I can finally visit Joe’s.” Doc Murrow raised an eyebrow. “What? The doughnuts are my reward for putting up with all this.”
The doctor shook his head with a smile. “Alright, alright, but try to control yourself this year. I’ll give Miss Sparkle instructions on your diet if I have to.”
That made Spike flinch. “No, no, that’s okay! I promise I’ll cut down on my snacking! Honest.”
“Good.” The pony started to turn away, but stopped. “Oh, you’re staying the night in the castle, aren’t you?”
“No choice.” Spike made his eager way to the door. “There’s a big storm scheduled in Ponyville today, so the train won’t be stopping there. I’ll just be staying in Twilight’s and my old place.”
“You should stop by the museum.”
“The Royal Canterlot Museum?” Spike paused to tilt his head at the pony. “I’ve got nothing against it, but why?”
“There’s a new exhibit in Archeology Hall,” the doctor answered with a grin. “You’ll find it interesting, trust me.”
A nice sunny afternoon in Canterlot! Spike didn’t think things could get better than this. Here he was, taking in the familiar sights, a bag full of doughnuts under his arm. What more did he need? Suddenly he didn’t mind having been stuck in Doc Murrow’s lab for three days.
Spike found that he missed Canterlot. He’d been raised here, after all. In a way, he was sad Twilight hadn’t come. He knew she enjoyed coming home every now and again. He had been sure to visit her family to say hello, but it would have been better if she’d been along.
He wound his way through the busy streets, greeting to a few old friends as he ran into them. He was in no hurry to get home, as he was far more interested in the city. Eventually he found himself in the Art District; not a large area, but always interesting. He was just starting to lament the last bite of doughnut when he realized he was near the Royal Canterlot Museum.
There was still some time in the day left, why not see what Doc Murrow had been talking about?
He climbed up the marble steps, which were just a bit too tall for him. When he entered the main hall, with its vaulted ceiling and pillars and finery, he felt as if the whole place was a bit too fancy. Maybe he was just getting used to Ponyville living…
“Whoa!” Spike paused to stare at the giant poster hanging behind the front desk. On it was a collection of pictures involving dragons, with a giant egg right in the middle. The Archeology Hall had opened a dragon-themed wing! Doc Murrow was right; this he wanted to see.
Spike made his way through the many halls, past the Pegasi Wing (he had to show it to Rainbow someday), beyond the Discord Era displays (always good for a laugh), and quickly through some dusty exhibits regarding an old kook named Starswirl the something or other…then realized he was lost.
Why did this place seem to get bigger every time he came here with Twilight? She never got lost.
There was nothing else for it but to ask directions. He glanced about the displays and showpieces and soon spotted a well-dressed unicorn walking nearby. He hesitated; the yellow mare was dressed quite formally, and judging by her overall look he imagined she was of the snobby, elite variety. The kind of pony Rarity would love to hang out with. But there was nopony else that he could see, so he made his way after her.
“Excuse me,” he called out, but the pony seemed engrossed in some documents she had levitating before her face. He tried again, to no avail. Finally he reached out and tapped her on the shoulder.
“Yaaah!” The mare leapt, her notes and papers fluttering about wildly.
“I’m sorry!” Spike cried, about as surprised at her reaction as she had been.
The mare gave him a stunned look, brushing her white and purple mane back into place. “Oh, that’s quite alright. Off in my own world, as it were.”
“I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Spike replied, gathering up her papers from the floor. “I was just trying to get directions, you know?” He paused when he realized the mare was studying him. “What?”
“Why, you must be Spike!” she declared.
The baby dragon beamed. “Why, yes. Yes I am! Glad to see my reputation precedes me.” He offered her the papers. “Yeeap, I’m something of a legend.”
The mare raised a wry eyebrow. “Actually, it’s because you’re a dragon, and there’s only one dragon I’ve ever heard of living among ponies.”
Spike blushed as the papers rose from his claw in a green glow. “Oh, eh, right, or that.”
“I had heard that you’d moved to—” she shuddered, “—Ponyville. Why, if you’re here that must mean you came to see our new dragon exhibit!”
“Well, I’m really in town for my yearly analysis,” he raised his claws to make quotations as he added dryly, “'for the advancement of pony knowledge on dragon anatomy.' But,” he went on at her disappointed look, “Doc Murrow mentioned your exhibit, so I thought I’d come by and take a look! I just…umm…can’t find it.”
The mare grinned. “You’re in luck, Mr. Spike! I was just heading that way, so you can follow me along. I’m Upper Crust, one of the museum’s Assistant Acquirers, and I’d be happy to show you the exhibit. I collected a few of the items there myself, you know.”
“Including the egg?” Spike asked as they walked down the hallway.
“Ermm, no,” she confessed. “Mr. Nack purchased that one. To be honest, I think they gouged him for it.”
“Mr. Nack?”
“Yes, Nick Nack, the museum’s Chief Aquirer.” She added without much enthusiasm, “My boss.”
“Ah, I see. Well, thanks for the help Miss…Crust? Miss Upper?”
“Oh, no, no,” the unicorn shook her head with a disgusted frown. “I’m all about titles, Mr. Spike, but I think everyone agrees that neither ‘Miss Crust’ nor ‘Miss Upper’ sound very…dignified. You can call me ‘Assistant Acquirer Upper Crust.’ Or ‘A.A. Upper Crust’ or—” her voice took on a hint of dismay, “—just ‘Upper Crust,’ if you really must.”
Yeah, this was clearly a mare of the elite variety. Spike decided to play things cool; he’d been around Canterlot ponies long enough to know how to behave. As they rounded the corner, he caught a glance at Upper Crust’s cutie mark. It was a cracked, old-looking goblet with some strange lines beneath and beside it. He stared at the lines, not sure what they were.
“I hope you don’t mind my asking, but what are those lines on your cutie mark?”
She blinked, having again fallen into her own thoughts. “Hmmm? Oh, those are dimension lines, like in drafting.”
“Dimension lines?”
“Yes, they are used to show measurements.”
He scratched his head, giving the cutie mark another long look. “So your special talent is measuring things?”
Upper Crust sighed with a frown. “Everypony assumes that! No, Mr. Spike. My talent is estimation.”
“Estimation?” He moved forward a bit, bringing himself even with her front hooves, the better to make conversation. “You mean guessing?”
Upper Crust raised her head in a proud manner. “'Guessing’ is for layponies, Mr. Spike. I estimate. I make precise determinations using careful observations. It’s what made me an acquirer.”
Spike wasn’t sure he understood the difference. Rather, he didn’t think there was one and she was just being snippy. Not that it affected him; he’d been around Twilight long enough to let such things roll off his scales like water. “Ummm, example?”
She glanced at him with one eye, her gaze roaming up and down his body for about a second. “You have approximately seven-hundred-fifty scales.”
The dragon paused midstep, gaping. “Wha…? That’s really close! How did you know that?”
“It’s a simple thing, really,” she answered, head held high. “I took your leg-claw measurements by comparing them to the floor tiles, which are a specific length, then used the dimensions of your claw in accordance with the number of scales on one claw to determine approximate scale size. Account for your estimated height and the change in scale-size throughout your anatomy and a general estimate could be arranged. Of course, I also had to adjust for your underscales, which are of a different make, and I did not account for the spikes along your back.”
“Whoa.” She was halfway down the hall before he remembered to move his legs. “That’s amazing. You’re really good!”
“Well I had to be good at something,” she noted proudly, “or else I couldn’t call myself an Important Pony. Ah, we’re here.”
The Dragon Wing wasn’t the largest in the museum, but that didn’t keep Spike from being amazed: bones, fossils, scales, all sorts of things were on display! The biggest of all was the life-size bust of a brown-scaled dragon looming down from the ceiling, glaring with harsh realism and razor-sharp fangs. The sight actually made him nervous; it was that realistic!
“By Celestia,” he whispered, ducking behind Upper Crust. “That’s one well-made replica.”
Upper Crust frowned at the thing. “It’s tacky. It was made by one of Canterlot’s best artisans using testimony from ponies who had actually seen dragons up close, and with a bit of help from your Doc Murrow for anatomical accuracy. Still,” she added, “tacky.”
Now that she’d confirmed that thing indeed wasn’t real, Spike abandoned his hiding spot to get a closer look at the displays. The first held a trio of dragon scales, one of which was as large as he was. “Wow.” He twisted about to look at the scales on his back. “Am I gonna have scales that big, someday?”
“I wouldn’t know,” Upper Crust admitted with only a half-interest, already making her way along the displays with her forms in front of her muzzle. “I’m no expert.”
“Oh,” he waved to her, “thanks for showing me how to get here!”
“Hmm? Oh, yes, my pleasure."
Spike wandered the wing with no small amount of awe. There was a broken half of a bone – a femur, according to the plaque – that he could have crawled into had it been hollow. There was a wall with five paintings, each showing the same two dragons in different stages of a fight. The plaque claimed the images were made by a particularly daring pony who hid nearby to watch the duel. Everything was interesting, especially to a guy who wondered how he might look when he grew to be a full-sized dragon.
But what really caught his eye was the egg. It stood in a display case near the center of the wing, encased in glass. It was tall – taller than Spike himself – and of a soft brown color, which only made sense considering it was just a fossil. The plaque beneath it noted that the egg was over a thousand years old, and its size was due to its origins from the Eastern Pony Nations, where dragons grew long and snake-like and thus needed more room in the egg.
A distant cousin? Spike stared in rapt amazement, wondering how large his own egg had been. There was so much he didn’t know about dragons. It didn’t particularly bother him, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in learning when the opportunity presented itself.
It took him several seconds to realize that he was no longer alone. There, opposite the display, was a tall, lanky unicorn. Spike leaned about to get a curious look at him; he was a mottled brown and had a black mane. He was wearing a black, semi-formal vest and seemed to be deeply intent upon whatever he was looking at, which Spike realized was not the egg.
He stepped about the display case to try and follow the pony’s line of sight, and after a moment saw that he was looking right at Upper Crust. She stood near the paintings as she wrote on one of her forms, oblivious.
Spike glanced at the stallion, then at Upper Crust, then at him again. Finally, in a moment of inquisitiveness, he checked the stallion’s cutie mark…and stared. He didn’t have one.
“Look more closely.”
Spike jumped, not realizing he’d been noticed. He looked up at the stallion, who just kept staring at Upper Crust. Spike looked at the unicorn’s flank again, this time with greater focus. It took him nearly a minute, but at last he realized what he was seeing: the stallion’s cutie mark was a reared-back pony that was camouflaged in such a way that it blended in with the stallion’s mixed colors. It was practically invisible.
“Hey, that’s a neat one! So you…?”
“Hide.” The stallion grinned at him. “I hide.” And he went back to staring at Upper Crust.
Okay, that was started to get a little creepy. “Umm…is there something interesting over there?”
“Not at all,” the stallion replied. “At least, nothing that a tamed dragon would be interested in.”
“Hey! I’m not tamed! Go on, tell me what’s so interesting.” Spike turned to peer at Upper Crust, determined to know what the stallion was so intent upon.
For a moment he thought the stallion wouldn’t answer. When he did speak, his voice was slow, low and dark. “I see something red. And viscous. And blooming. Quite pleasurable. Quite appealing. A temptation, gnawing at me from the dark recesses of a mind long accustomed to…that kind of thing.” Spike blinked and gave the stallion a confused look. There was a wicked, hungry glint in those eyes that made him uncomfortable. “I’m Fine Crime, by the way.”
“Uuuh, Spike.” Fine Crime? What kind of name was that? It was as if this pony was asking to get blamed for something. What had his parents been thinking? He thought of Fine's words and asked, “Sooo, Upper Crust is…a red flower?” A second's pause. “An evil red flower?”
The stallion chuckled. “Quite the fascinating conclusion my little friend! Evil red flower. How cute.”
“Hey, it’s your imagery,” the dragon noted with a frown. “Aren’t you here to look at the dragon displays?”
Fine sagged and let out an intense sigh. For a second he seemed to be in pain, but he recovered quickly and offered Spike a strained smile. “No, I’m only here for one thing: this.” He looked up at the egg before them. “Marvelous, isn’t it? I would very much like to add a dragon egg to my collection.”
“It is something,” Spike agreed, glad that the conversation had taken a turn for normalcy. “But I don’t think they’d be willing to part with it so soon after getting it.”
“Oh, I can be very convincing,” Fine noted, trotting about the egg with a grin. “Many ponies have found my insistence to be inescapable.”
“Riiiight.” There was something very strange about this unicorn. His manner of speaking, the way he moved about, his shifting behavior. It was all a bit different somehow. Spike wasn’t sure he liked any of it. He was at a loss for what to say next, so he let the first thing that came to mind slip out. “So what exactly does a pony whose special gift is hiding do for a living?”
“I’m a dragon slayer.”
“What?!”
The unicorn tilted sideways so his head came around the display. “Kidding. I’m a florist.”
Spike let his heartbeat slow to normal levels and hoped he didn’t look as disturbed as he felt. “Oh, right, of course. Haha, good one…” What did hiding have to do with being a florist? “Well, I’ve seen enough. Gotta go.”
In truth Spike could have spent much more time in the wing, but he abruptly didn’t want to be anywhere near that stallion. He began to leave, but then paused to glance at Upper Crust. She had moved to another display, a stone sculpture of a dragon’s claw. Fine Crime had been watching her quite intently. Was it really safe to leave her alone with him?
The little dragon considered this for a few seconds, then decided to take the cautious route; he headed for Upper Crust. Best to at least warn her.
“Umm…Upper Crust?”
The mare gave him a reproachful look. “Yes, Mr. Spike?”
“I just thought you might like to know…” he started, turning to glance at Fine Crime, then let out a surprised shout. “The egg!”
It was gone.
Upper Crust let out a sound somewhere between a squeak and a scream, darting to the seemingly untouched display case. “The egg! What happened, where did it go!? That thing was the centerpiece of the entire collection!”
“I… I don’t know,” Spike admitted at her side. “It was there just a second ago. I didn’t do anything, I swear!”
Upper Crust was running circles around the case. “Sweet Celestia, this is bad! If Nick Nack finds out the egg was lost on my watch, my career is over! It can’t be over, I only just hired on three months ago!”
Something clicked in Spike’s mind. “Wait, where’s Fine Crime?” He turned a three-sixty, scouring the area for any sign of the strange unicorn. To his surprise, he actually saw him – or rather, the back half of him – slipping through a doorway at the end of the hall. “There, I bet he took it!”
He got a few steps before being thrust upwards and onto Upper Crust’s back. She galloped through the hall, her hooves clacking noisily on the tiled floor. “We have to get that egg back,” she declared in a voice more panicked than anything. “My entire career depends on it!”
The door glowed green and opened on its own, and the two were in a back room full of cabinets and display cases. There was only one way to go, so they gave chase, but when they reached a connection they had to pause and get their bearings.
“Oh, which way did he go?” Upper Crust asked hooves dancing.
“I don’t know…” Spike replied, then noted a door swinging to their right. “That way, it’s our best bet!”
The chase was on. Upper Crust barreled after their target with everything she had. More than once Spike thought she might crash into one of the priceless items in the museum, but somehow she always managed to avoid them. He kept thinking they’d lose the culprit, too, yet every time it seemed they’d lost him some clue would present itself.
Something about the entire chase seemed odd. Spike felt almost as if they were being led along by a pony who didn’t want to get away. Suddenly he really wished Rainbow was here. She’d have caught the culprit in no time! Then again, she might also have destroyed half the artifacts doing it.
Their chase took them out a back door and into the streets of Canterlot! In the dying light of dusk they finally caught sight of their criminal, darting into a back alley with a taunting grin.
“Eggnaper!” Upper Crust cried, warranting curious looks from nearby ponies as she resumed the chase.
“Give us back that egg, you thief!” Spike added, caught up in the excitement.
Upper Crust galloped for all she was worth, but it seemed as if they would never catch Fine Crime. “Geez, doesn’t this guy ever get tired?” Spike asked as they went farther out from the city’s center.
“I don’t…know…” Upper Crust wheezed, “but I certainly…do!”
They came out of an alley and had to pause to locate their quarry. They were high up now; ahead was the Canterlot Sky-Port, where numerous airships of all shapes and sizes were docked. For a moment it seemed as if the egg thief had escaped at last.
“There he is!” Upper Crust cried just as Spike spotted Fine Crime jumping aboard the back of a yacht.
“Oh no, it’s launching!” Spike cried as the airship floated from the dock.
“He’s not getting away!” Upper Crust declared, rearing back to charge.
“Whoa, whoa!” Spike shouted, gripping her mane for support. “Do you realize how high up we are?!”
But Upper Crust ignored him, moving as fast as her hooves could carry her. The yacht was slipping farther and farther out, and Spike thought that there was no way they’d make it across the gap. He covered his eyes and wished desperately that Twilight was there.
They went airborne.
There was a moment of hideous silence…
And the two of them landed hard on the back of the yacht.
Upper Crust had put everything she’d had into that jump, and hadn’t been prepared for the landing. She collapsed face-first onto the wooden deck, sending Spike flying into the cabin wall so hard his backside spikes stabbed into the wood. He hung there – upside down and dazed – for several seconds before realizing he was alive.
He tried to pry himself loose from the wall, but couldn't. He sighed and noted Upper Crust, who came up reeling and eyes swirling. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” she answered. “Just a bit winded.”
“Good.” He waved his arms at her. “Are you nuts!? You could have killed us both with a stunt like that!”
Upper Crust finally managed to stand properly. “I couldn’t just let him get away!”
Spike crossed his arms and snorted. “He jumped on an air-yacht. You could have, I dunno, called the authorities and waited for it to dock?”
“Oh.” She glanced with a blush off the back of the deck, “Right. I suppose that would have been safer.”
“Uh, yeah.” He waved his claws at her. “Help me down!”
She raised a reproachful eyebrow at him, but let him grab her horn. “Well excuse me, but I do have my priorities! My status as an Important Pony resides in that egg, and I cannot let it be taken on my watch.”
“I don’t think being an Important Pony takes priority over our lives,” Spike noted, straining to keep hold of her horn as she tugged.
“I wouldn’t expect a baby dragon living in a dump like Ponyville to understand,” she argued through grinding teeth.
“A dump? That’s my home you’re talking about!”
Just then his spikes broke free, and the two of them crumbled in a heap on the deck.
“Important Ponies don’t come from backwater places like Ponyville,” Upper Crust declared as she untangled him from her hooves with a kick, “and Important Ponies don’t lose priceless relics! I simply must get it back, preferably before anypony notices it is missing.”
Spike sat up as she began to make her way around the cabin. “Yeah? And what makes you such an Important Pony?”
She turned back to him, head held high. “I am an elite pony from Canterlot, born of a wealthy family and working in the prestigious Canterlot Royal Museum! I take great pride in being an Important Pony!”
“And would this Important Pony care to explain how she got on my air-yacht?”
Upper Crust’s eyes bulged and her face went pale. She spun about in a flash to face the large, white, monocle-wearing unicorn that had appeared behind her. “O-o-oh my goodness,” she squeaked, “F-Fancy Pants! The one and only! I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I j-just—!”
Spike stood and walked over, brushing himself off. “Fancy Pants? Who’re you?”
Upper Crust rounded on him so quickly he fell onto his back. “What do you mean ‘who’re you?!’ He’s Fancy Pants, only the most prestigious, important, special—”
“Okay, okay, I get it, geez!”
She jerked back around to the tall unicorn, who was watching their interaction with an expression combining amusement and aloofness. “I am so sorry sir we are so sorry it’s just that we were chasing after a criminal who stole something very important from the Royal Canterlot Museum and we saw him jump on board your yacht so we did too and and and…”
She finally ran out of breath, standing before Fancy Pants and heaving as if she’d just ran a marathon.
“Uh,” Spike added, standing back up, “did you get all that?”
Fancy smiled pleasantly. “Why yes, indeed I did. This fellow must have given you quite the chase! I can only surmise the relic he stole must have been very important, yes?”
Spike nodded with a relaxed grin; well, this ‘Important Pony’ didn’t seem anywhere near as uppity as Upper Crust. “Upper Crust here insists her career will be ruined if we don’t get it back, so we’ve been chasing him all the way from the museum.”
“Yes,” she added, finally regaining enough wind to start talking again. “Please… you must… let us… find him!”
“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Fancy declared with a proud smile. “Turns out hopping aboard my vessel was a mistake; my ever-dependable crew caught him almost immediately.”
“Really?!” Upper Crust lit up. “Did he have a dragon egg with him?”
Fancy’s monocle raised from his eye as he asked, “Dragon egg? Is that what he stole? I’m afraid I didn’t see anything quite so large on him when my lads took him.”
Upper Crust was crestfallen. Spike rushed to add, “Don’t worry, he probably stashed it during the chase. We’ll just talk to him, make him tell us where it is.”
She recovered some of her composure. “Yes…yes, you’re right.” She gave Fancy Pants a hopeful look, head low. “With your permission, of course.”
“Of course,” he agreed. “Can’t have ruffians like that getting away with the goods, now can we? Come along, Miss…?”
“Upper Crust!” The mare blushed at her own enthusiasm and lowered her head again. “I mean, I’m Upper Crust, and this is Spike the Dragon. Thank you so much for your help.”
“Not at all.” Fancy Pants turned and led them around to the front of the great cabin, where a number of very elite-looking ponies were mulling about self-importantly. “Always a pleasure to help a pony in need. And a pleasure to meet both of you; a pony from the Royal Canterlot Museum and Equestria’s own social dragon. Why I’m not sure I could ask for finer stowaways.” That last line made Upper Crust blush noticeably.
“We didn’t mean to intrude or anything,” Spike noted helpfully as the unicorn led them into the cabin and down some stairs. “I mean, if you want to turn the yacht around and drop us off—”
“Nonsense, I’ll hear nothing of it,” Fancy declared. “I was just warming the old girl up, thought I’d have dinner among the stars. You’re both more than welcome to join me and my other guests for the evening.” A strange, excited sound trembled out of Upper Crust’s throat at that offer.
“Alright!” Spike cried, “This is going to be so much better than what I'd have been doing at the castle.”
Fancy paused before a closed door, keys floating out of the pocket of his coat, and cast an impressed glance at the dragon. “You’re staying at the castle, Sir Spike?”
Upper Crust shot Spike a withering glower that was barely noticed.
“Well, I’m living in Ponyville now,” he confessed, “but Twilight and me, we used to live in the castle. Our old rooms are still open to us for whenever we come to visit, so yeah, tonight I’m staying there.”
“How divine!” Fancy beamed as a key went into the door’s lock. “I daresay you’re going to make a most splendid party guest.” Another glare from Upper Crust as the door opened. “Come on in, meet my vessel’s first-ever captive.”
The three entered the room, Fancy closing the door behind them. It was a large place, luxuriously fitted as what Spike assumed was meant to be a parlor. And there, lounging in a cushy-looking couch by the windows, was Fine Crime.
“My compliments, sir,” the egg thief said with a grin. “You treat your prisoners better than most. I can think of a few friends who would be quite envious of me right now.”
“You!” Spike jumped atop a coffee table and pointed. “What did ya do with the egg, ya thief?”
“Egg?” Fine asked with a perplexed look. “What egg?”
“The dragon egg that you stole,” Upper Crust snapped. “We saw you take it!”
“Oh, you mean the dragon’s egg in the museum,” he noted with a smile. “Now really, Assistant Acquirer, you can’t really say that you saw me steal anything, can you?”
The mare’s jaw went slack.
“Don’t pull that on us,” Spike snapped. “Nopony else could have possibly taken it! What did you do with it?”
Fine leaned forward, his voice pleasant. “Maybe I dropped it when I jumped on board the yacht.” Upper Crust whimpered. “Or perhaps I gave it to my accomplices. Or – just maybe – I didn’t do anything with it. Why don’t you go on back to your precious little museum and take a good look; perhaps you just thought it was missing!”
Upper Crust sneered. “Don’t play games with us!”
“Or it could be that the egg just rolled out of its display case and under some table. Perhaps after a thousand years the baby finally decided to stretch his wings. Better late than never, you know.”
Fancy sniffed in a displeased fashion. “You, sir, seem to have a talent for misdirection. Why toy with them in such a manner?”
Fine gave him a wide-eyed look. “But I’m not toying with anypony. I have no idea what they’re talking about.”
“Then why were you running away from us, huh?” Spike demanded.
“Oh really, Spike, such a lack of imagination. Perhaps I wasn’t running away so much as running in the same direction. Coincidences do happen.”
“And pray tell why you happened to jump aboard my air-yacht?” Fancy threw in.
Fine grinned mischievously. “Can you think of a better way to spend an evening in luxury?” A moment of stunned silence. “But really, Mr. Pants, if somepony clearly threatening is chasing after you and you want to escape, why not jump aboard a yacht about to leave port? When one feels endangered, he’ll take certain risks.”
“What?!” Spike and Upper Crust cried in unison.
The elite stallion wiped his monocle in a self-important fashion. “I prefer Fancy, if you please.”
Upper Crust turned away, distraught. “We’ll never get the egg back from him at this rate. My reputation as an Important Pony will be ruined!”
At those words Fine's eyes went dark, and he abruptly lost his lazy manner. “And what in Luna’s name makes you so important?”
“I wouldn’t expect a lowly egg thief to understand!”
Spike frowned and gestured towards her. “Just like she wouldn’t expect a Ponyville dragon to understand.”
“What have you done with your life that makes you special?” Fine pressed, his pleasant tone gone entirely.
Upper Crust turned on him. “I am an elite pony, raised in style! I work at the Royal Canterlot Museum! I—”
“You’re an Assistant Acquirer. That’s not exactly high on the totem pole, princess.” Fine's tone was surprisingly harsh. “And born into wealth? So was I, but you don’t think I warrant a passing glance, do you?”
She reared back, eyes flaring. “You?! You’re a thief!”
“And what have you done with your life?” he demanded. “Made estimations? Name one pony you’ve helped, one great task that ponies throughout Equestria know you for.”
That made her pause. “I…what…? That doesn’t have any relevance—”
“You know that it does!”
Spike and Fancy Pants gave one another surprised looks; this conversation had taken a drastic turn.
“Waitaminute,” the dragon interrupted, “we’re not here to argue about importance! We’re here because you stole a dragon egg!”
“Quite right,” Fancy agreed, “you are trying to confuse us all with a change in topic, and we won’t—”
“Look at him!” Fine directed a hoof at the noblepony. “He gives to charities, funds events that bring joy to thousands of ponies. He's a veteran of the Dragon Campaign! Fancy Pants earned his status.”
The hoof was directed to Spike. “Look at this guy. He’s not considered ‘Important,’ but he’s the first dragon to live in peace with ponies. And he’s the personal assistant of Princess Celestia’s hoof-picked pupil, who will no doubt do great things in the near future. He works with the current bearers of the Elements of Harmony, one of the most powerful magics known to Ponydom! Why isn’t he considered important?”
“And you?” His attention went back to Upper Crust, who was now sitting on her haunches and gaping. “What have you done? Daddy sent you to a posh private school? Learned to make a calculation or two in your head? You’re nothing!”
There was a moment of stark silence, Fine’s words seeming to echo in everypony’s minds.
Upper Crust stared in shock, then embarrassment, then dropped her head in shame. Spike wanted to say something in her defense, but at the moment words were lost.
So Fancy Pants spoke instead. “I’m turning this yacht back to the docks,” he declared. “I do not wish to have this insulting ruffian onboard my vessel for another moment.” He promptly left the room.
“I…” Upper Crust muttered, on the verge of tears. “I…”
Fine stared at her coldly for several long seconds, but then leaned forward to look her in the eyes. “Why did you chase me?”
She blinked, seeming to not understand the query. Spike scratched his scaled head and gave her a puzzled look of his own. What kind of question was that?
But Upper Crust's expression became hard. She raised her head proudly, looking down on the fugitive with judging eyes. “Because you stole something. It was wrong, and somepony had to stop you.”
Fine Crime raised himself up as well, his expression calm. His harsh eyes shifted as he scrutinized her. Another long pause seeped through the room before he finally nodded. “I see.”
That’s when the yacht rocked. It wasn’t a small motion, either; it sent Spike and Upper Crust to the floor, and Fine Crime back against the couch.
“What the heck was that?!” Spike asked, crawling out from under the coffee table.
Fine Crime didn't bother to get up. “That would be the small tear I cut in the yacht’s balloon ripping open and releasing lots and lots of helium.”
“What?!” Upper Crust managed to get to her hooves. “Why in Celestia’s name would you do something like that?”
He waved a dismissive hoof. “It’s called a distraction. You know, create a little chaos and slip off?”
“Distraction?” Spike repeated. “How do you intend to escape when you’re on an air-yacht that’s falling out of the sky?”
Upper Crust rushed to a window, eyes wide. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, what are we going to do?! We must be over 15,000 feet up, we’ll never survive the impact!”
“Oh, calm down,” Fine instructed. “The Pegasi Wing of the Equestrian Guard will notice and come rescue everyone. You know, the one always stationed in Canterlot? And I’m sure a super Important Pony like Fancy Pants can afford a new yacht. Your husband can sell him one; that’s his business, isn’t it?”
“You moron!” Spike shouted, jumping onto the unicorn’s stomach and glaring at him. “The entire Pegasi Wing is out on training maneuvers!”
“They are?” Upper Crust asked in a weak voice.
Fine leaned up and gave Spike a wide-eyed look. “How do you know that?”
Spike waived his claws in the air. “Because I spoke to the Captain of the Guard yesterday, and he told me so!”
A moment’s pause as the two unicorns stared at him, and then an “oh” came from Fine Crime. “That would have been good to know ten minutes ago.”
Spike jumped from Fine’s belly and ran to the door.
“Where are you going?” Upper Crust demanded in a panicky voice.
“Up top to see if I can help!”
She tried to say something else, but he didn’t hear it. As he ran to the stairs the entire airship tilted backward, and he had to use his claws on the laminated flooring to keep from sliding. This was great, just great! He knew he should have found some excuse to skip his annual tests! Now he was going to die on some fancy yacht because of a klepto and a posh pony. As he finally managed to get onto the deck, he couldn’t help wishing Twilight was there.
The elite ponies were holding on for dear life to anything nailed down. Spike called out for Fancy Pants, but couldn’t hear over the intense wind that was raging around them. He finally spotted the unicorn at the helm, struggling with the wheel. It took a lot of effort to get up to him.
“Fancy!” he called as he at last got close enough to be heard over the wind. “What do we do? Can’t we slow it down?”
Sweating from exertion, Fancy Pants chanced a glance at Spike, then gestured with his head toward the balloon above them. “Not unless we can do something about that, I’m afraid!”
Spike at last saw the rip in the balloon. It didn’t seem all that large, but it was clearly losing a lot of gas. Spike could only stare, mind beginning to panic. There had to be something they could do, but what? How? He wasn’t good at solving these kinds of problems! He needed his friends; any of them would be better than him.
“What in Luna’s name are you ponies doing?” Spike glanced down to see Fine Crime and Upper Crust at the cabin door, holding on for dear life. The voice had been Fine's. “All these Important Ponies, and nopony’s going to do anything?”
“I don’t see you coming up with anything!” Upper Crust shouted. “Don’t forget that this is all your fault, you thief!”
“Use your resources,” Fine shot back, daring to step out onto the deck. “Your lives are at stake, so act!”
“But we can’t,” Spike cried down to him in terror.
“Get back before you fall off,” Fancy ordered.
“There’s nothing we can do,” Upper Crust shouted with wide eyes.
“And you call yourself an Important Pony,” the egg thief snapped, turning back to her, “can’t even learn to help yourself. Spike, I’m gonna need fire. Upper Crust, I need wind control!”
“What?!” Upper Crust stared at him. “What are you talking about? I can’t control this kind of wind!”
Fine Crime was halfway up the stairs to the helm. “You learned a wind spell to cheat against your cousin flying kites, right? Use it!”
“Wha…? How did you—?”
“No time!” Fine was crouched low next to Spike. “Get on! I’ll lift you up. I need you to breathe fire on top of the cabin. I can get it to stay, but you have to keep the flame going for at least thirty seconds.”
“Thirty seconds!?” Spike shook his head. “N-no, I can’t! My best time’s only twenty four seconds. You’re talking an extra six seconds I can’t do!”
Fine glared. “It’s up to you, dragon! A lot of ponies are going to get crushed in the next few minutes if you can’t do this.”
“But… But I…”
The unicorn rose to stare down with authority, and suddenly he seemed a lot bigger than Spike recalled. “There is nopony else. Twilight Sparkle is not here, or Rarity, or Rainbow Dash. This is your moment to be the hero, Spike. Take it!”
A hero? Spike never thought of himself as a hero, at least not a real one. But something the pony had said stuck with him: it really was just him, wasn’t it? He glanced around at the elite ponies. Some were screaming, others were crying. All were terrified as the ground came up faster and faster. Seeing all of them, Spike knew that only he could do what needed to be done.
“Let’s do this,” he declared, climbing atop Fine as fast as his claws would allow.
“Upper Crust,” Fine demanded through the raging winds, “I need you to protect the flame! When I’ve got it secured, direct the heat into the tear of the balloon!”
She raised her head against the wind to ask, “What good will that do?”
“Replace the lost helium with hot air,” he explained quickly, “and keep what’s left inside! We need to give Fancy Pants enough lift to land this thing safely.”
“But I haven’t cast that spell in years, there’s no way I can do that much!”
“Then we’ll die.”
“I hate to interrupt,” Fancy Pants shouted, “but the ground’s getting a bit close! If you’re going to try it, I’d suggest doing so immediately!”
Spike was holding on to Fine’s mane as he turned and rose up on his hind legs, leaning against the cabin that was angling backwards even more, just like the entire yacht. “Do your thing, Spike!”
The baby dragon climbed atop the unicorn’s head and stood, gripping the edge of the cabin’s roof for balance. It was hard to stay in place, but finally he felt secure enough to take in a long, deep breath. Green flame flew from his mouth and to the cabin’s roof, crackling and sparking against the fierce winds.
For a moment, nothing seemed to be happening. Then a crimson glow appeared beneath the flame. Spike kept the heat coming even as he realized that Fine was using magic on the fire, trying to lock it to the cabin. But the wind was still pummeling them, and Spike could see that this wasn’t going to work.
“Upper Crust!” It was Fine Crime. “Upper Crust, now!”
“I can’t,” she cried from somewhere below. “I’m not good enough! I’m not—”
“Forget about the doubts!” The was no fear or worry in Fine’s tone. Only determination. “Stop worrying about what you can’t do, focus on what you can do! Hiding behind the glamor and posh won’t make a difference. If you want to be an Important Pony, do something to prove you deserve it!”
Spike’s throat was getting sore. Come on, just do it already! He was approaching his limit…
The wind eased. Slowly but clearly, a green glow began to appear around the cabin, an invisible barrier to block the winds. The fire grew, erupted, spread! Spike held on, the flames from his throat growing hotter and hotter. His stomach churned, and was getting worse with each passing second. Finally, he could hold it no more; he coughed, choked, and sucked in air. With watering eyes he watched Fine’s spell work, and soon the flame was dancing atop the cabin like a bonfire.
“Upper Crust, the fire’s in place! Guide the heat!”
The green glow closed in tightly about the flame, then rose up like a tube to the large tear in the balloon above. The flames licked at the edges of the magical barrier. The crimson glow beneath the fire intensified, and so too did the heat.
It was several seconds before Spike could be sure, but at last he felt the wind lessening.
“By Luna, it’s actually working!” Fancy Pants cried. “Keep it up! Give me a little more lift, and I think I can land us in the Canterlot Gardens.”
Sick to his stomach, Spike dropped down to Fine Crime’s back, noting the red glow around his horn. Rubbing his belly tenderly and praying the yacht’s rocking would stop soon before he made a mess, the dragon turned to look forward. True to Fancy’s word, they were coming down towards the gardens. He could just make out the fleeing animals, and his heart pounded in his chest at their speed. “I think you mean crash us into the gardens!”
“Yes,” Fancy admitted with a touch of worry, “that would be more accurate.”
Ignoring the churning in his stomach, Spike jumped to his feet. “Come on you guys, just a little longer! We’ve almost made it!”
“Everypony brace for impact!”
The crash was thunderous, the yacht’s bow smashing into the soft grass of the Gardens, and Spike went flying through the air. He closed his eyes and let out a shout of horror even as he silently cursed himself for not grabbing something when he’d had the chance. A lot of movement, a lot of chaos, a lot of noise, and then silence. And pain.
Spike opened his eyes and found himself hanging by his stomach on a tree limb. He had to fight to keep from losing the doughnuts from earlier.
“Oooh man,” he muttered, climbing into a sitting position, “I don’t think I wanna fly again anytime soon.”
He took a moment to calm his nerves, then looked around. He spotted the yacht half-buried in dirt not far off. “Guys!” He climbed down as quick as he could and ran. “Upper Crust! Fancy Pants! Is everypony okay?”
He found Upper Crust half-buried in dirt near the bow of the boat, surrounded by a number of other ponies who looked about as bad. She shook her head and let out a groan. “I feel fine, all things considered,” she muttered. Spike took her front hooves in his claws and pulled her out of the soil.
Fancy Pants was still at the boat’s wheel, having clung to it during the impact. He pulled himself away with an uncomfortable look and mane akimbo. “Not one of my finest landings, I’ll admit, but I can still mark this as one of my more interesting voyages.”
“Nopony seems too seriously hurt,” Spike ventured as he helped another mare up.
“For that we can all be grateful,” Fancy agreed. “And we owe it all to you. Sir Spike, Miss Upper Crust, you have my most sincere thanks!”
Spike couldn’t help beaming, though he cast a glance at the crash. “Umm, sorry about your yacht.”
But the big unicorn waved a dismissive hoof. “Oh, it’s nothing. What’s one yacht compared to the lives of all these ponies you saved?”
Upper Crust finally broke into a smile. “We…we did do it, didn’t we? I can’t believe it!”
“And that's your first step to becoming an Important Pony,” Fine Crime noted. He was standing atop the cabin, expression grim.
“You!” Upper Crust turned on him angrily. “You’re responsible for all this, you know!”
“But he did help,” Spike pointed out.
“Indeed,” Fancy agreed. “I daresay he gave the two of you the confidence needed to get the job done.”
“Thank you for noticing,” Fine said seriously. “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a certain temptation that must be resolved soon, and a meeting to attend before that.”
“Waitaminute!” Upper Crust reared back on her hind legs. “Where’s the dragon egg?”
Fine Crime’s expression was cold as ice, so harsh Spike felt a chill run down his spine. “I’d suggest checking the museum.” A crimson glow covered his horn, and black smoke began to form around him in swirls.
“Hold it!” Upper Crust cried, but the black clouds covered Fine Crime, and when they dissipated a second later the unicorn was gone.
“Whoa,” Spike muttered. “How’d he do that?”
Spike had to deal with questions from the authorities involving the accident. He even had a moment to talk to Princess Celestia, who had come down to investigate the crash site. Fancy Pants had insisted on bringing everypony to a fancy dinner, with Upper Crust and Spike as the guests of honor.
Yet despite everything, there was no cheering Upper Crust. She’d lost the dragon’s egg, and her career was ruined. Spike, feeling sympathetic, offered to walk with her back to the museum to break the news to her boss, though by now there was no doubt that everypony already knew.
Which is why they were so shocked to return to find the dragon’s egg sitting in its case as if it had never left.
“Wha-wha-what?” Upper Crust ran circles around the display. “B-but it was gone, we both saw it! How? When?!”
“Maybe Fine Crime brought it back after the crash,” Spike ventured, though he doubted it.
“Nonsense! Why would he go through all that trouble to steal something and then put it back?”
“I don’t know,” he admitted, “but this is going to make one heck of a story to tell the ponies back home.”
High in Canterlot Castle, Princess Luna sat before a table reading a report. Opposite her, face grim as he sipped some hot chocolate, was Fine Crime.
“An invisibility spell,” the Princess noted. “Clever. But do tell us, was crashing the yacht truly necessary?”
“It gave me a chance to put them on the spot,” he declared. “Fancy Pants can afford another one, after all, and Jet Set will be happy for the business.”
A critical look. “And the Gardens?”
He took on a mild grimace. “I had expected him to crash the yacht outside the castle. I do apologize for that, Luna.”
She accepted this response. The princess read for another moment, then dropped the papers onto the table and took a cup of tea. “Thy conclusions?”
He responded with authority. “I believe the candidate isn’t ready for what we have in store, but with a little time that can change. I recommend moving on to finding the next candidate, and letting this one stew for a while.”
“But thou art confident in thine selection?”
He nodded.
There was a long pause as she sipped her tea and considered his words. Finally, the princess answered, “We shall accept thy judgment on this matter, Sir Fine Crime. Thou hast our leave to proceed. We hope the next candidate may be found with equal rapidity.”
“I make no promises,” he replied, standing. “I’ll be sure to let you know when I have something. Oh, and do thank Celestia for me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “For what, pray tell?”
“For agreeing to send the castle’s Pegasi Wing on maneuvers for a few days. The plan wouldn’t have worked otherwise.”
Princess Luna frowned. “Such was a dangerous course of action. Frankly, we are stunned our sister agreed. What if the candidate – or any of the other participants – had not responded accordingly?”
“Celestia didn’t know the plan,” he answered gravely, “but I had alternative options available. Don’t worry, Luna. I’m by no means new to this kind of thing. Now I must beg my leave. I’ve a temptation that’s killing me on the inside, and neither of us want me to succumb to it here.”
She glowered at him, but waved a dismissing hoof. A cloud of black and he was gone.
Luna sipped her tea and spent a few moments scowling at the report on the desk. Not for the first time, she wondered if Celestia’s trust in this ruffian wasn’t misplaced.