//------------------------------//
// Chapter 14: Hearts and Minds 
// Story: Alpha Centauri 
// by StLeibowitz 
//------------------------------//

	The west gallery was built in a loggia style that reminded Twilight a great deal of the hall where she’d first spoken with Caelum. It opened up onto a beautiful grassy courtyard, a green space extending down to a smaller lake – there was a lake, a pond, on an island in a moat; she found that to be surprising – that provided a welcome contrast to the stark greys common in the castle itself. Blues were common as well there, in the form of fountains trickling down the walls into stone basins, and from stone basins into channels that ran around the perimeter of the halls and the chambers connected to the halls, and from the channels down small drains to be recycled again. It was a common feature in the homes of wealthy land-dwelling kelpies, Beta told her; the basins were useful in getting the accrued detritus of daily life to come free, and the constant sound of running water was both calming and reassuring to kelpies, as when she and Beta and Proxi had designed them, they’d made sure they’d always stay close to water so they wouldn’t starve to death.
Radiant and Keen Eye were waiting for them at a round wooden table in an apse of the loggia, standing side by side and chatting amiably as they waited. Twilight could see them from a distance, through the straight, no-nonsense columns; Keen Eye was wearing a dress of some sort, made of a diaphanous blue-green fabric that failed to cling to her despite the natural stickiness of kelpie coats, and had a small conch shell dangling from one ear. Her mane was short, though the seagrass strands in it remained long, giving Twilight the impression that she was wearing some kind of shellfish salad on her head. The effect, somehow, managed to come off as not ridiculous. Radiant Eye, on the other hand, was simply covered in dozens of earth-tone pebbles.
“I hope they didn’t imply anything by summoning us,” Beta murmured as they prepared to round the corner to the final stretch before the apse. “Normally, when we’re invited to the home of a noble family the hosts will meet us in front, like Measured Speech did. Sending a messenger to request our presence – “
“Maybe it’s part of their politics?” Twilight interrupted. “To show their power, or reinforce the image of their power in the eyes of the rest of the nobility. Our position is unassailable, but us playing along with their wishes might imply that they have a closer relationship with us than the rest of the nobility.”
“I thought you weren’t versed in the politics of nobility?” Beta smiled.
“I…may have spent a large amount of time reading about noble etiquette, back when I was a filly,” she admitted. “I did live in Princess Celestia’s court, after all. Dealing with nobles was a daily thing, even if I was never involved in their plans.” She grimaced. “Even if I didn’t know if I was involved in their plans.”
Beta shrugged. “Saves me time in familiarizing you with the new system.” She giggled. “And here I thought it might have been too new for you to take in all at once!”
“What do you mean, too new?”
“Well…I have made an effort to keep things…recognizable, for when you return,” Beta explained slowly. “So” – they were at the apse now; she interrupted herself – “but Radiant Eye will love to lecture you on what I’ve done, I’m sure. Good morning to you both, Radiant Eye and Keen Eye.”
“Ah! You’re here!” Radiant exclaimed, startled. “I’m sorry, my Queens, I didn’t hear you approach.”
Keen rolled her eyes. “If you hadn’t managed to keep things running smoothly in spite of the interference of other houses, Radiant, I’d call you shamefully unobservant.” She dipped into a shallow curtsy to Beta. “Nice to have you over again. I’ll try to hide as many of the keys to the sub-treasuries as I can.”
Beta smiled. “I think it’s the main treasury you should worry about.”
“But where would I get money for my dresses if the main treasury key were to somehow find its way to the bottom of the moat?”
“My dear, I think you may be forgetting the more important of our two arrivals,” Radiant interjected coolly, bowing to Twilight as he did so. “Welcome to Caisleanard, Queen Alpha. I’m sure tonight will be a night to remember!”
“And tomorrow night, too!” Keen added, curtsying again – deeper than she had to Beta. “Though that will be it, I’m afraid, as I’ve dumped all the keys to the sub-treasuries in my usual place, so we can only drain the majority of our wealth on two nights of feasting, instead of all of it on several.”
“Frugal as always, Keen,” Beta remarked, amused.
“My mother always did say I have a keen eye for finance,” she replied with a smile.
“Her voice dripped with sarcasm then, too,” Radiant chuckled. Keen bumped him abruptly and knocked him sideways into the table, and they both laughed.
“I must admit, I’m curious as to why you sent for us instead of meeting us at the gatehouse, like Measured Speech,” Beta said. Her eyes flickered with magic as she pulled one of the four chairs beneath the table out. “One could almost see it as…disrespectful.”
“It’s perfectly fine, Beta,” Twilight interjected before Radiant or Keen could even open their mouths. “It’s probably better that we meet here anyways. The courtyard is nice – and besides, they sacrificed the opportunity to be seen with us in public, so it's not like their decision lacked tradeoffs.”
“Not much of a sacrifice,” Keen Eye commented. Radiant nodded in agreement, pulling his own chair out.
“Caisleanard is peopled by heretics, malcontents, agitators, and social revolutionaries,” he explained. “The other nobles like to send them here to try to make my little system collapse, but in many cases they’re giving them exactly what they’d always wanted anyways – freedom from taxes, a political climate conducive to debate and reform, an opportunity to be left alone in peace, and all in a region much safer and freer of monsters than the Outlands. They end up becoming much more productive and valuable citizens than they would be otherwise.” He smiled. “Caisleanard, and my lands in general, are an immense penal reform colony in effect.”
“They seemed happy enough to welcome us earlier,” Twilight said.
“Everyone loves the Queens, even if they hate their policies,” Keen responded. “And in any case, we haven’t heard a great deal of policy from you, Queen Alpha. You’ve only just returned. I imagine a great deal of the celebrations that greet your return are fueled by the downtrodden projecting their hopes for the future onto you.”
“I’m sure it’s for reasons much less political than that.” Beta’s voice held a hint of admonishment in it. Keen seemed affronted.
“She’s a grown mare, Beta Centauri, and I’m almost completely certain she’ll be an excellent Queen without your protectiveness and guidance,” she spat. “And if she can’t manage that, then she shouldn’t be a Queen at all!”
“Dear – “
“Don’t you ‘dear’ me, Radiant Eye!” she retorted, rounding on him. “If I know Beta – and I do! – then I know she’ll try to keep things as they always were, and I also know that that is no way to rule a country! Technology kept almost stagnant for two millennia – social hierarchies preserved well past when they ought to have collapsed under the weight of their own ridiculous inefficiency – “
“I agree completely,” Radiant interrupted. Keen spluttered to a halt after a few seconds, before yanking her own chair out from under the table and sitting heavily on it. Twilight was the last one standing. She quickly pulled her own seat out and took it.
“You intend to discuss this now, then,” Beta stated. It sounded like she’d been dreading this moment for years. “Before the feast?”
“It’s a much better time for it, I feel,” he answered with a nod. “That way, the idle chatter of the party can help close any rifts this opens up. Additionally, I doubt I could have restrained my wife for much longer than I already did.”
“That was restraining her?”
“I could have allowed her to slip into her usual vox populi mode,” he pointed out. “Then we’d all still be here when the feast began, and there’s no way in the seven hells that I’m allowing Measured Speech to host a feast in my own home.”
“What do you mean, technology kept stagnant?” Twilight asked.
“If our benevolent Queen here hadn’t been interfering, who knows what we’d have by now?” Keen grumbled. “Machines to let kelpies and wolves fly? Devices to control the weather? Spells to keep homes safe at night? She’s been actively hostile to anything that would push technology past what we had fifteen hundred years ago.”
“Her intentions were the best, Keen,” Radiant said. “Even if her actions have been…detrimental. She intended to keep Domhan at a state that Alpha could easily recognize on her return – “
“Don’t feed me the party line again, Radiant! I know her excuses!” Keen Eye stood abruptly, slammed her forehooves down on the table, and glared at Beta. “I’d accept that if she’d started immediately after Alpha died the first time, but she didn’t! She let five hundred years pass! Haven’t you learned about how quickly things changed in those years? We went from semi-nomadic herds and packs and flocks to cities in only two hundred, and then thaumaturgy and science started advancing in leaps and bounds from then on – “
“And why, Keen Eye, do you think I really did this?” Beta asked tiredly. From her demeanor, Twilight could tell she wasn’t expecting a real answer. An accusation of arbitrary tyranny, perhaps? Twilight had the impression that this was something they’d discussed in excruciating detail before, without satisfactory conclusion.
Keen smiled like a wolf sighting her prey. “You were afraid, Beta. You saw things changing, the world shifting faster than you knew what to do with it, and you were terrified that society would start to change with it, and you’d lose your seat at the top of the heap. You feared the collapse of the nobility under their own weight, and the revolution that would follow and knock you back off your throne and into powerless semi-religious obscurity!”
Beta’s eyes lit up with fury. Her mane flared as she, too, stood, and locked gazes with the smaller kelpie. “How dare you!”
“That’s how I see things,” Keen sniffed. She sat back down nonchalantly as Beta remained standing. Alpha watched her sister warily, dim images stringing themselves together in her mind and painting a scene of the distant past when she’d seen Beta in a similar rage. Leaves blocking her vision as she watched from a bush, Watchful and her subordinates scattered around the clearing edge as they watched the debacle happening within…a Nightmarish shadow of her sister looming darkly over a scarred and black-furred wolf, eyes glowing with orange tongues of flame, mane a firestorm in miniature…the wolf said something, an excuse, and with an unearthly screech of hatred Beta had called upon dark magic powerful enough to warp the thaumato-physical plane of the clearing permanently, and erased the wolf from existence. With a start, she was back in the apse, with Beta in a killing mood and Keen Eye blissfully unaware of how close she’d just pushed Beta Centauri to her breaking point.
“As if I’m some kind of power-hungry tyrant!”
“Fifteen hundred years, Beta Centauri,” Keen repeated, “and not one breakthrough. We’re still using fire for light and heating, for heaven’s sake!”
“Beta,” Alpha said warningly. Beta closed her eyes and slowly sat back down again, her mane returning to its usual intensity. Alpha tried to hide her relief.
“Perhaps this topic wasn’t a good idea,” Radiant admitted reluctantly. “I should have remembered how Keen gets when discussing it, at least. A bit more tact might have been appropriate.”
“Blunt truth gets things done fastest,” Keen said.
“What you nearly got done was forcing me to plan your funeral,” the noble grumbled. “I apologize, my Queens. I’m sure Beta knew about Keen’s usual…directness, but I’m just as sure that this came as something of a surprise to you, Alpha.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she replied, thinking back to her first night in Ponyville and a certain pegasus’s wild accusations of espionage. “I’ve known some ponies who can be like that as well. I’m used to it.”
“In any case, I welcome you both to Caisleanard,” he continued, a note of relief in his voice. “The castle grounds are completely safe, for both of you, regardless of the people’s opinion of you Beta. Feel free to wander before dinner; exploration of this ancient fortification is more rewarding than guided tours, I feel. It’s how my father introduced me to its various design quirks.”
“How old is it?” Twilight asked curiously. Canterlot Palace was over five hundred years old; Castle Caisleanard seemed to be in at least as good repair.
“It’s been around since the city was rebuilt – portions of it are even older, in fact,” he responded.
“Almost a thousand years old,” Keen clarified. “And several sections of the keep are nearly two thousand – they predate most other cities on Domhan.”
“That’s amazing!” she exclaimed. “How has it remained standing so long? Were the fortifications put to use in the intervening time?”
“Several times, mainly during periods when Buggane councils were numerous,” Beta answered. “I helped defend the city then.”
“The bastards are much less numerous now, thankfully,” Radiant noted. “The Outlands are mainly where they’re a threat. Around these parts, the wolves and guards keep them in check, and stop them forming altogether most of the time.”
“Unfortunately, there are preparations to be made for the coming feast,” Keen prompted. Radiant nodded in agreement.
“I would love to continue, my Queens, but there are things to get done that need our supervision. As I said, feel free to wander the grounds and enjoy the castle.” Radiant smiled. “I felt a bit of unstructured free time might be welcome after the hecticness of the tour.”
“It’s very welcome. Thank you, Radiant.” Beta smiled back as they left. They rounded the corner quickly, walking side by side and vanishing through an ivy-framed doorway soon after. Things were quiet then except for the slight rustling of the wind in the trees.
“So,” Twilight started. “What’s the itinerary for – “
“I think I’ll be spending some time alone, Alpha, if that’s okay with you.” Beta stood from her seat and gave Twilight a smile as well, far more wan than the one she’d graced the Eyes with. “I’ll be in the eastern tower if I’m needed. You can take care of whatever comes up in the meantime?”
“I guess,” she replied uncertainly. What kind of things would I be expected to deal with?
“Thanks.” Without another word, Beta too left. When the door slammed shut behind her – a different door than the one Radiant and Keen had gone through, across the courtyard from it – Twilight was completely alone. 
Deciding to investigate the garden a bit, she left the apse as well, trotting down the steps at its front and into the unblocked sunslight. The sky was clear of any clouds, and overhead she could see her star and Beta’s star – Alpha Centauri a yellow ember, shining steadily, distant but much closer than any star at night; Beta Centauri, an orange disk that reminded her of Celestia’s own sun back home. Proxima was nowhere to be seen. She realized she felt sad about that, more sad than she felt about leaving Equestria, and far more sad about it than she felt disturbed by the fact that she could stare directly at both suns and not be blinded, or that she had wings made of metal feathers like the semi-mythical stymphalian birds near Arneighdia, or that she no longer had a horn – that she had a coat more adhesive than most forms of nonmagical glue, canine teeth that she could feel every time she moved her tongue, like twin knives embedded in her gums, a mane made of fire and seaweed, and about a dozen other minor alterations and differences that set her apart from the unicorn she used to be, physically if not mentally.
I’m not going home anytime soon, am I? she asked herself, still staring up at the suns. Nopony back home would ever believe me. I’d probably terrify them just with my appearance! I doubt even Rarity could do anything with my mane, and she’d probably just get stuck on me anyways. She chuckled at the mental image of Rarity attempting to help her look less alien and ending up glued onto her, but her spurt of good humor faded soon after – and made way for a spot of slight concern. Wait a second! I’m a star, aren’t I? Can’t I just change what I look like whenever I want to? This body isn’t even technically real! I could just change back to what I used to look like if I visit Ponyville again…I could just change back right now! Why wasn't that my first posited course of action? Don't I want to?
She nodded to herself at that idea. She could shift back, even if it was just for a moment. Nobody was around to be scared or confused or revolted or whatever reason Beta would likely propose for why she shouldn't. All she had to do was figure out how to shift. And, possibly just as importantly, if she even wanted to.
Maybe if I try to dissociate myself from my body, she thought unenthusiastically, the idea prompted by yet another half-formed memory from the distant past. They were almost a constant background when she was in a familiar place – fragments coalescing, whirling around, linking together like snowflakes in a turbulent blizzard, rising like snowflakes on updrafts of mnemonic triggers. Caisleanard was a blessed relief from that background; everything was new, or at least too new to trigger anything. Idly, she made a mental note to avoid the oldest sections of the castle, to keep the memories in check.
She took a seat on the warm flagstone semicircle that extended from the apse to the bushes and trees of the courtyard, and closed her eyes. No, she didn’t have to dissociate herself from her body – she had to remember that the winged-kelpie form she wore wasn’t her body. Somewhere overhead, millions of miles away, blazing like a bonfire in the heart of the void…that was her body now. Alpha Centauri, the primary star of the Centauri system. That was her. Maybe that's why I'm so reluctant to shift back. It's not my body anymore, and I know it.
There wasn’t a feeling of motion when it finally happened. She didn’t feel a tugging, a release by gravity as she escaped it, air rushing by as she pulled free of the atmosphere. One second, there were warm flagstones beneath her, and the sound of chirping birds in her ears, and the feeling of a slight breeze; the next…it was almost impossible to describe.
In an instant, she recognized her experience in Caelum’s hall for what it had been: a simulacrum. An approximation. Dull. As amazing as being in that constellation had been, it had been a cheap thrill. Her perceptions of gravity had been hazy and blurred or simply absent. Her manipulations of space, as impressively precise as they had been, had been the clumsy, fumbling jerking of a leg that had fallen asleep for a long time.
She could see everything. Or, she couldn’t see see anything, but it was there – everything her light touched, everything beneath her rays, everywhere her light had reached out into the distant extremes of the universe, she was aware of. And the rest of it – she’d never known she was missing so much! Impossible colors in streamers light-years wide, flowing around each other in beautiful, impossible ways, slipping through dimensions she’d never thought could exist – space-time itself, taut around her, practically vibrating from the slow dance she was caught up in with her sisters – her worlds, hurtling through space at ridiculous speeds exceeded only by the rate at which she was moving, careening around in the great galactic dance she’d been born into – the experiences just kept coming! Gravity, light, magic, electromagnetism, unification forces, space-time; they all fell into place, giving her a comprehension of the universe that mortals had struggled for, for eons, and hadn’t achieved, not through lack of intelligence or any inherent inferiority of the mind, but because they’d simply lacked anything approaching the tools the stars naturally possessed. And yet, even with all that vast ability, even with such an all-encompassing perception, there was still something beyond her comprehension – and, according to her memories, beyond the comprehension of anyone, Caelum included.
It was there, faintly, across all spectrums. A faint shivering in space, a slight inconsistency in time, an almost-imperceptible wavering of gravity; a wave of unidentifiable photons in a strange frequency, a faint hum of electricity where nothing existed to conduct it. Harmonious unities between objects separated by incomprehensible distances. Symmetries invisible to beings with lesser senses. Unrelated coincidences, to mortals, if they could be detected at all by them. Obviously related, obviously in tune, obviously synchronized in the perceptions of stars. Music, of a sort, appreciable only by the spheres of the heavens, but not understandable, though she’d tried for millions of years. Fascinating, hypnotic music.
For a while, she forgot about Domhan and Equestria, about the feast and being a unicorn again and whether she wanted that or not, and spun quietly away in space, in the heart of a vast web of interconnections and frighteningly familiar impressions, listening to the silent music of the spheres.


-----


“So, what were you hunting, anyways?” Rainbow Dash asked Streamwalker, as the wolves led her through the forest. They’d been walking for a short time – more than a few minutes, shorter than an hour; the suns weren’t visible through the thick canopy, so she was having trouble determining what time it was precisely. Ghealach might know, but she refused to ask her; they were bound together forever, but that didn't mean she had to rely on her for everything! “Deer or something?”
“Bugganes,” the white wolf growled back. The barely-contained fury in his voice caused Dash to subtly change pace to let the space between them grow a bit. “Pup-eaters.”
“A council of them has formed nearby,” one of the other wolves added. “They have taken our pups.”
“We know their location,” Streamwalker said. “We know the layout of their campsite. We know where to strike to kill them.”
“And we know there are too many,” a third wolf finished morosely.
“They would cut us down in moments,” Streamwalker confirmed gravely. “Our only hope is to pick them off one by one, but for once they seem to have a tactical thinker among them! Never are they alone, never do they travel in groups of less than three; they stay belowground always, except to burst forth and ravage a homestead or butcher a herd of deer!”
“It is disturbing,” the second wolf muttered. “One would almost think they had a greater mind than a mere buggane at their head.”
“Hold up a sec,” she interjected. The wolves halted instantly; she sighed. “No, keep walking. But what’s a buggane?”
A few of the wolves shared surprised glances between themselves, furtively, probably hoping she wouldn’t notice. Cloud Ferry snorted, at the head of the formation next to Streamwalker – the only wolf who was unfazed by the question.
“They are savage beasts,” he answered darkly. He glanced back; there was hatred in his eyes. Dash hoped it wasn’t directed at her. “Great, black-furred, bipedal monsters of the darkest past, allies of Nightmares and brutes almost entirely devoid of self-control. They destroy by their nature and prey on civilized beings for food. And they have our pups!”
“I sense an opportunity here…” Cloud Ferry sang. She smirked. “Or, an opportunity if you want to remain Ghealach’s faithful little pawn.”
The forest gave way abruptly to flat farmlands, brown tracts of dark earth bare of growth – harvest season must have already come and passed. The wolves spread out more, widening the space between them but retaining the wedge formation that had brought them through the woods. A tight cluster of wooden houses was visible in the distance, two or three more miles away. It was still daylight out, not past noon – she could see the suns again! Never before had she thought she’d be so happy to see two suns in the sky. Her muscles relaxed from a state of tension she hadn’t even noticed in the forest. If she wasn’t one in any other area, mentally at least she remained a pegasus – and pegasi did not like being confined. Even by trees.
The final approach to the first bit of civilization she’d seen on Domhan passed quickly. Without the grasping, thorny underbrush hindering them, Streamwalker’s wolves fell into an easy lope that ate up the distance in under twenty minutes. To her surprise, she found that she could match it just as easily.
The village seemed almost deserted when they entered it – “entered” being defined, in Dash’s mind, by them passing the first house on the outer edge. There were no walls to tell where the village ended and the wilderness began, which struck her as odd if there really was such a big threat from these “bugganes”. Any doubt she had about bugganes being a threat, however, vanished when they reached the center of the village.
When they came to a halt in what she guessed had once been the village green, an open space surrounded by wood-and-stone shacks with thatched roofs, they came to a halt before a massive hole in the ground. It was a shaft, a vertical shaft, wide enough for nine of her, pressed flank to flank, to fall down into. At the bottom of the shaft, it curved sharply and became a horizontal tunnel. Huge gashes in the dirt on the surface gave her an even better idea of the size of whatever had come through that pit. The wolves ignored it like it wasn’t even there; Rainbow Dash stared at it, transfixed, for what felt like hours.
The buildings around the green weren’t looking any better than the green itself, she discovered once she could tear her eyes away from that gigantic pit. Roofs were torn apart, chimneys shattered, exposed beams of wood splintered and crushed in half, doors snapped like dry twigs and hanging loosely in their forcibly widened frames; it was a disaster area. When Streamwalker let out a low, mournful howl, it didn’t do much to improve the situation.
Geez, she though. This looks bad.
The survivors peeked out of their ruined homes slowly, almost reluctantly, at the sound of Streamwalker’s voice. Well, with the exception of one – a kelpie, she guessed, equinoid, with a brown coat covered in small stones, and a mane that looked kind of like Rarity had taken it upon herself to design a fashionable seaweed wig, pushed his way out of his damaged door like he was being chased by the legions of Tartarus, his coat gluing him onto the top half of his mauled door. His momentum carried him swinging around into his wall. Dash winced. He didn’t seem to notice, and just peeled himself off – painfully – and galloped over to greet them, detouring around the hole.
“Stream – Streamwalker!” he panted when he skidded to a halt in front of them. “What news?”
“There are too many,” the white wolf replied, his voice heavy with regret. His words carried across the field; a few sobs echoed out, but they were quickly suppressed. “I am sorry, Grass.”
“Did you find where they are, at least?” Grass asked desperately. “Did you see them? Are they safe?”
“I did find them,” Streamwalker said. “And they are alive – for now. I know not what has happened in my pack’s absence.”
“Suns above, Streamwalker, you must have some good news!” Grass snapped. His eyes were wild – the look of a father who’d lost everything. “Anything at all! What about her?” He jabbed a hoof in Dash’s direction.
“Should I field this one?” Cloud Ferry asked. Her face was a mask of indifference, but something about her eyes betrayed it as an act.
“I can do this,” Dash answered testily. Streamwalker spoke before her, though.
“The stars have answered our pleas,” he declared. “We found her in the forest on our return. She is one of the great ones. With her help, we can rally the rest of the nearby packs – perhaps even those of other great-packs – and within a week – “
“No!” Grass shouted. “There isn’t time for that! Our children will be dead within a week, Streamwalker! Don’t you understand that, you worthless mutt?”
“I understand it,” he growled softly. “I understand it better than I hope you will ever have to.”
Grass swallowed visibly; his mouth worked silently for a moment before he turned abruptly to face Rainbow Dash. “Y-you! Great one! Please, you must help us!”
“There are too many for even a great one to take on alone,” Streamwalker said. “They would overwhelm her, and our chance at rescuing them will be – “
“We have no time!” Grass interrupted. “Please – great one – I beg – I pray of you, please – save our foals! My daughter, Rose Field, a-a-and the Stepping Stones’ colt, Troubled Waters, a-and – “
“If we rally the packs, we can eradicate this council once and – “
“There isn’t time!”
“There are too many of them for us alone to take down, and they know it! Why else would they be in such an exposed location?”
The boldest plans are the safest.
“I can do it.”
The kelpie and the wolf stared at her silently. She shifted her wings nervously, the momentary certainty she’d felt vanishing in an instant. What do I mean, I can do it? That hole’s like ten times as big as me! How many of them are there? They’ll rip me apart! And even if it doesn’t kill me, it’ll still hurt just as much as if they were actually killing me!
Take them by surprise. Get the foals and get out before they see you. Aerial advantage. 
“How?” Streamwalker asked warily.
“Don’t question her!” Grass scolded him. “If she says she can do it, she can do it! The suns are mighty!”
“She’s not from the suns, Grass Field!” Streamwalker retorted. “She is Ghealach, spirit of the Red Moon, not from the suns! The suns might have a chance, but the Moon?”
“I can do it,” she insisted, against her own better judgment. I’m crazy, she thought. I’m completely insane. I mean, I guess I haven’t really been sane for a while now – I have arguments with hallucinations of a crazy past life and a moon talks to me whenever she wants – but this doesn’t even make complete sense to me! “Bugganes can’t fly, right? I can. If I know where they are, I can fly in and grab the foals and fly out before they even notice I’m there!”
“See? See!” Grass laughed relievedly. “See? She can do it! Praise to the Moon! Thank the Suns! Praise to whatever sent her to us, if she can save our children!”
“If she can, yes,” Streamwalker murmured. “They have made their camp to the southwest, in the caves of a rock spire that has yet to be named. It should be obvious from the sky. A smaller spire lies to its immediate east; that is where they hold their food.”
“Our foals are not food!”
“Prisoners, then,” he growled. “Future food. Whatever you wish to call them, they are there, or were when my pack was.” He looked back to Rainbow Dash. “Whenever you are ready, great one.”
“Time is of the essence!” Grass chimed in. She nodded.
“I’ll go now,” she decided. “Which way did you say, again?”
“Southwest. They’re in a spire of granite that juts out of the forest. It should be easily detectable from above the trees. It’s already glaringly obvious from below.” He paused. “Stars watch over you, great one. Bring them home.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll be back before nighttime, you’ll see.” With a cocky grin and a roaring beat of her wings, Rainbow Dash hurled herself into the air. It had been a while since she’d used her wings, even if they were noisy and scattered the sunslight like prisms now, and she couldn’t help but keep grinning as she ascended until the villagers were like ants below her, and finally until they fell out of sight as she hit a thermal and started gliding in the direction of the bugganes’ council.