I lean against the van wall, staring out the window with one hoof resting on the seat next to me, and the other one gripping my seat belt.
I listen to them all talk, as I watch a grey city rush by me, and my mind dwells on a pink shape I keep expecting to see out of the corner of my eye.
“So.... airplane,” Ian says as a statement of fact, from behind us. The back seat of the taxi van is occupied by the cosplayers and a lone tiny pony. A filly who isn't a filly.
I nod, pondering that last nuzzle, trying to hold onto the memory of her cheek against mine.
"Well, have you flown before, dear?" Mrs. Grent asks, as I hear her shift to speak with Ian face to face.
"As a human, yeah. Like this... Ah just woke up this mornin' like this, and Apple Bloom ain't even awake yet. Ah'm just a teensy bit concerned she might have a panic attack if she wakes up in... ya know about tha, um, dual pony mind thing, right?"
"I've done some research, though I don't know much more than the papers have said." She says. "So there are ponies and people in your heads?"
"It's..." There is a short pause as he seems to search for the right words. "Ah think it's different fer everypony, but... yeah, from what Ah figger our human minds get kinda overlaid over tha pony's minds, so it takes a bit fer tha pony's mind ta wake up. Erishy here has more experience with tha whole thing, but... actually, um, are ya comfortable talking bout this?" He asks me as though I would even admit if I was bothered by it.
"Oh, it's not a big deal, I'm fine," I whisper, looking away from the passing buildings and down at the floor. It doesn’t bother me, really. I feel as though it should bother me, as though I’m some oddity to be studied, but I wouldn’t care if I was, as long as I could stay in one place for a few minutes, and catch my breath.
"So, what is your pony like?" The lady asks ian.
“Ah don't know, AH haven't really gotten tha chance ta talk with her yet,” he admits.
The van falls quiet, with only the hiss and crackle of the Taxi driver’s radio punctuating the empty space. For once I wish someone would talk. Not to me, but just talk. It feels like I’ve done something wrong, like this.
Luckily, Ginny asks a question.
"Sooooooo. You must have seen some of the show, miss Grent. Who do you think is best pony?"
She thinks on it for a moment, as I shift a little so that my wings can stretch. "Well I do really like the queen, the big white one. Very proper, yet she seemed nice."
"Is that one a bad choice?" she asks after another bit of silence, concerned.
I keep looking at the floor. Really, I don’t have anything to add, I could speak about my longing to go back. I could tell them how I don’t want to go anymore, and would rather just return to Pinkie and the others, but I know I shouldn’t.
"Technically, she's a princess," Jackie explains.
"The only queen on the show... is a queen in the sense of an ant queen," Ginny adds.
"Oh so the princess then, the one that controls the sun. So far she is my favorite." She says, her voice upbeat, amused. Such a happy person, despite all her suffering. Truly an example to us all.
"Well, she is a very likeable character," Jackie agrees.
Within moments of this awkward conversation concluding, we finally reach our destination, and begin unloading from the taxi with all of our belongings. Mrs. Grent pays the driver and we start to make our way into the check in area for our airline of choice.
I watch the check in lady call over a manager, before we have even reached the front of the line.
The tired and frustrated looking manager waits patiently until it is our turn, and steps forward.
"How can I help you?" the man asks in an annoyed tone.
"Well, we need to check in for a flight." Mrs. Grent says firmly, handing him the pile of tickets.
"I will need photo identification,” he says, without even looking at the papers she had given him. Despite knowing what he is going to say, I pull my wallet out of my backpack with my teeth, and let Mrs. Grent take the Id card out and provide it to the uniformed grouch.
He glances once at each one, taking Ian’s and mine in one hand and holding them back out to her.
"Those two don't have proper identification, they can't be let on board." He says, turning away to call over the clerk to check in the other bags not accompanying a pony.
"Son, I don't think you understand the gravity of the situation." Mrs. Grent says, frowning as she gestures to me, making me cower a little.
"This pony is one of the few that can help fix all this. Whether you like ponies or not, she is part of the solution." She says, stepping closer to him, making me wonder if she is really as tame as I had thought.
He turns around angrily and looks like he is about to say something, when a man in sunglasses and a suit steps out of a back room door and taps him on the shoulder. They have a quick and whispered chat, before the suited man steps up to the counter.
"Have a wonderful flight." He says quickly, giving them the last two boarding passes.
He then turns and leaves, and the clerk goes to help the next group.
"That was... odd." Mrs. Grent says, frowning.
I look over to Ian, who is just staring at his pass, as I rack my brain to come up with some explanation for what happened. Then I remember something that Julien had said.
“They can only offer limited oversight, due to the scope of the problem. Though I have been promised that there will be an undercover agent on our flight.”
The CIA must me helping us along, making sure that this all goes as planned...
I shake my head as Ginny puts a comforting hand on my back.
"The CIA has to watch us, to make sure we get there safely. That has to be who he was,” I explain.
I notice that Ian has been pushed towards me, and I give him a quick hug, his expression confused, worried.
I have to lead. I know what is going on, and I must make this work. With a quick intake of breath, I pull on my backpack and look to Ian to make sure he is going to follow me, and then I start my way towards security. I cut an impressive path through the throngs of passengers. As I trot briskly, they all seem to stop, move out of the way, and stare. I have to fight my urge to flee.
Finally we reach the security area, and almost immediately we are approached and asked as a group to move to a separate screening area, where we are finally alone. The others sit down on provided seats, while I slump against one of the chairs, glad to be away from the incessant crowd.
Ian rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "So... just ta be clear... have any o' us done anythang illegal at any point?"
Jackie shrugs. "Not in the criminal sense." Ginny rolls her eyes, and Jackie gives her a look. "What? It's true!"
"It will be okay." I mutter softly, leaning against the chair that Ginny sits on, my ears drooping, eyes fixed on the floor.
"I'm sure it will be. They can hardly turn us away now." Mrs. Grent says, frowning with her arms crossed.
Ian starts to fidget a bit. "So... how long do we have ta wait here?"
"Well I imagine...." Mrs. Grent says, just as the second door opens to reveal a middle aged woman in a security jacket, who pauses halfway through closing the door.
"Well, I'll be. Sorry to keep you all waiting, instead of clearing the security checkpoint normally, we have a police officer who is going to interview you each one at a time, and we will xray your bags normally." She says, smiling apologetically.
I just nod as Mrs. Grent sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Let's get this over with." She stands, volunteering herself to be first.
"Um..." Ian awkwardly raises a hoof. "Ah... may need ta stop by the, ah... ya'know..." He gestures vaguely, blushing.
The security lady points out the door she came in to show Mrs. Grent where to go, before gesturing to ian.
"I can take you, we have pony friendly restrooms down the hall."
I just keep staring at the floor, wondering if I have messed up, leaving the rest of the group. What if they are attacked? What if Pinkie gets hurt and I could have done something if I had stayed?
"Um... See, this is actually mah first day as a pony, and Ah haven't... um... done that yet, so, um..." By now Ian's face is as red as his mane.
Ginny coughs. "I'm sure that Erishy wouldn't mind helping you."
At my name, I jump a little, being reminded that I have people and ponies to take care of, right here. I look around at the expectant faces, and a chuckle nervously, trying to smile, not sure what all I missed.
"Sorry... what?"
Ginny coughs, indicating an increasingly embarrassed Ian with a quick flick of her head. "Pony problems."
"Oh, sorry." I stands and gesture to my back, wanting to give him a ride in case he doesn’t want to walk.
"Hop on."
"....Ah'd... rather walk," Ian says, completely flustered. "Just... ya know..."
I almost hit myself, realizing just how stupid I am being.
"Right, I'm sorry. Come on, I'll help you." I gets the directions from the security officer, and take Ian to the restroom.
It is awkward, and it takes some explaining, but eventually he is relieved, and trots out of the stall with a very red face.
“You can head back to the group if you want, I need to go as well,” I say with another of my famous awkward smiles.
"Right... er." I watch as Ian backs out of the restroom, and I take my turn. After I am finished, I trot over to the sink, carefully washing my hooves of the grime and dirt from a day of walking on sidewalks and hotel floors.
As I do, I think about the situation I am in.
It’s not that bad. Pinkie can take care of herself, like no other pony possibly could. She could even take care of the rest of my new friends. Ian seems to be doing okay, and Mrs. Grent seems quite willing to help us resolve this. Things are a lot better than I give them credit for.
I feel myself smiling as I paw at some paper towels to dry my hooves, and I close my eyes, realizing that really, I’ve been working myself up over nothing.
I hear a small pony trotting up to the door of the bathroom, and slip inside.
"Oh, would you mind if I used your phone, Erishy? Just to send a message to my brother,” Apple Blooms voice asks, though I notice Ian is doing a very good job of subduing the accent. He must have been practicing while he waited.
"Of course. It has a password, Buzzy,” I say as I finish drying my hooves and turn, only to see green fire fill my vision, and then I am staring at myself. I feel like I am staring into a mirror, except this image of me looks so much more gleeful.
"Thanks, Erishy."
Then she lashes out with a hoof, and I don’t even have time to scream before I see only black.