The Education of Clover the Clever

by Daedalus Aegle


Chapter 6: The Field Trip

AN: We return to the third-person narrator for now, but I reserve the right to experiment again in the future.

– – –

Clover hummed a breezy tune to herself as she sorted through the day's mail delivery. Some months had passed since the day Clover got her salt back. Since then, her apprenticeship and her studies both had continued making steady progress.

After the phase hydra incident, Star Swirl had dug out The Other Side of Up* and began teaching Clover about the various rare magical creatures he had encountered in his career, as well as those which continued to elude him. With a little prodding, she had even gotten the old wizard to tell some of the stories about how he met them, stories which invariably had some nuggets of narrative gold in them even if the storyteller seemed completely unable to distinguish the interesting bits from the rest. It was worth listening through twenty minutes of “how I distinguished between two types of very similar—but not quite identical—grass” to get to hear the story of the Kelpie, or of the Al-Mi'raj, or of how Star Swirl had lured out the faerie queen from her den by making her think that the thousand-year cycle had come around to make it time for her to emerge, and casting an illusion to make his robe seem like the Flickering Castle so she would go to sleep in his pocket.

*: Swirl, Star & Star, Swirly, The Other Side of Up: A Taxonomy of Arcanobiological Case Studies. Canterlot House 1 & Canterlot House 1.

In addition, Star Swirl had begun teaching Clover to manipulate the Weave, the web of magic that courses through the air and the earth. Clover had been delighted to discover that Star Swirl's house actually was laid out in order to maximize the current of magical energy.

To her disappointment, however, the dirty windows turned out to be dirty not because the individual dirt particles had been charged with magical power, but instead because Star Swirl could not be bothered to wash them. Accordingly, she had taken it upon herself to do the job, but between her other chores, and the fact that the dirt fought back in ingenious ways, it was a slow task.

Finally, Clover was getting ever more practice with alchemy and charms, and Star Swirl had let her produce several of the potions he would sell by post order, for which she received a portion of the revenue. She had come to enjoy the work, and had only lightly singed her coat on a few occasions. All in all, things were going very well, and Clover was happy.

She finished sorting the letters and moved on to processing and cataloguing the packages. There were only a few today, and when the first one she opened revealed a cluster of hissing serpents, she didn't bat an eyelid. She closed the box again, pushed it to one side, and called out, “The snakes you were waiting for arrived today, Professor!”

Somewhere in the house, Star Swirl the Bearded called out “Excellent!” in response.

Clover reached for the next package and opened it to reveal another cluster of hissing serpents. She blinked uncertainly, closed the box, checked the address of origin, checked the first box, then called out: “Actually, now the snakes you were waiting for have arrived. The first one was from the Sapphire Wizards.”

“Excellent! A control group!” Star Swirl called out.

Clover carried on her work, a little more cautiously. The assassination attempts had continued at a steady pace since Star Swirl had moved to Cambridle. True to Star Swirl's word, none of them had put Clover in any real danger, although she still thought his recommendation that she “put some music on the grammophone and keep reading until I'm done” was a bit cold.

Star Swirl emerged from wherever he had been working, and began to read the letters just as Clover was finishing the packages. She picked up the last one, and noticed there were two letters lying underneath it. The first was a small plain envelope addressed to Star Swirl; she placed it on top of the stack and he picked it up. The second was one of the fancy expensive envelopes with the gold trim, the ones that generally signified an invitation to something prestigious which Star Swirl was going to completely ignore. However, instead of reciting the long list of titles the wizard had accumulated over the course of his career, as those letters usually did, the fine calligraphy on the front of the envelope read:

To Clover Cordelia, Canterlot House 1, Cambridle.

From Ivy Cordelia, Ponydilly Street 115, Whinnysor.

Clover ripped the envelope open and read the contents. “My parents are coming to visit me.”

“Hm.” Star Swirl stared down at his own note. Clover glanced at him; he seemed unusually subdued. Seeing her gesture, he offered her the note to read:

The Eagle has left the nest. -G.

“What does that mean?”

“It's a warning. Another assassin is going to try to kill me. What does yours say?”

Clover looked back to her letter. “My parents are coming to visit.”

“Ah!” Star Swirl nodded solemnly. “I suppose we're both thinking the same thing, then. Pack your things, we leave Cambridle within the hour.”

“Oh.” Clover processed the words. “Wait, what?”

“I had been thinking that it's been a while since I caught up with my field work,” Star Swirl said as he trotted over to the next platform and began picking out small instruments, assessing and discarding or approving each for whatever he was planning. “This seems like a good occasion to leave town and let things calm down a bit.”

“But... I need to be here to meet my parents,” Clover said.

“That's quite convincing,” Star Swirl said, and nodded, “but there's no need to persuade me. We can be anywhere in the world when they come knocking, and leave behind a note saying we're very sorry but, oh, the world needed saving from something very urgent two continents away and we'll be back just as soon as we no longer don't want to. Go grab your essentials.”

“What? No!” Clover insisted. “I need to be here to meet my parents, Star Swirl! If you go off someplace to hide in a cave then I'll go back down to my dorm room, but I'm not escaping from my parents!”

“You're wearing the mask again, Clover,” Star Swirl replied. “I thought we were over this.”

“What mask?”

“The job interview mask, the I'm-going-to-follow-the-pointless-formula mask,” Star Swirl said as he dug through a drawer for his favorite astrolabe. “The 'I don't really want to do this but I'm pretending I do because that's what I've been taught that I have to do in order to be accepted' mask. I hate that mask. Now stop joking around and get packing.”

– – –

It ended up taking Clover the better part of an hour to explain to Star Swirl that she actually didn't want to flee the city to avoid seeing her parents, a concept which the old wizard found hard to grasp. Clover did have to admit that, when asked, Star Swirl marshalled abundant evidence in the form of comments Clover herself had made over supper in the course of her apprenticeship, comments which made Clover's parents seem like demons escaped from the pits of Tartaros.

“So you're saying,” Star Swirl eventually said, “that you can hold all these opinions about your relatives, and yet at the same time, will consent to spend time with them?”

“Yes!”

“How bizarre.” Star Swirl stared deeply at the calculations he had made in the course of their conversation. “This needs to be accounted for.”

His horn lit up, and in a distant corner of the research hall there began the sound of steam-powered machinery pounding, and large gears turning. The two ponies crossed over to it, and Clover saw a big contraption stashed away in a corner looking like an unfinished sculpture satirically depicting the modern fad for mechanical conveniences. It huffed and chuffed for a little bit, before it stopped with the sound of a bell ringing, and a small piece of paper emerged from a slot.

Star Swirl picked it up and read the message aloud: “Conclusion: Go into hiding.” He smiled triumphantly. “See? The machine agrees with me.”

“You made that machine,” Clover pointed out.

“That doesn't mean anything,” Star Swirl grumbled. “Look, do you want to come and do field research with me or not?”

“Of course I do,” Clover said. “That sounds brilliant. But I also want to be here when my parents come to visit in a couple of weeks. So can we be back by then?”

“A few weeks is no time at all by 'waiting for the heat to die down'-standards,” Star Swirl grumbled. “I once waited longer than that for a basilisk to stop searching for me so I could slip out of its cave.”

“You did not!”

“I did too!”

“I'll have you know that I once read a first-edition copy of The Long-Lost Haunted House of Chimæra Chasm, with the unedited afterword,” Clover declared. “You hid in the cave for fifteen minutes at most.”

“You're much too clever for your own good,” Star Swirl the Bearded muttered, after a long guilty silence. “Fine, we'll be back within two weeks. I'll just make sure to lock the windows when we return.”

– – –

“So why do I get to carry all the equipment?”

They had been packing for an hour, and Clover was now loaded up like a poor beast of burden, with multiple sets of saddlebags reaching from her tail to her withers, each filled with a broad selection of gizmos and gadgets of all types. On top of it all was a huge telescope precariously balanced on her back, at least until Star Swirl tied it down with what he claimed was “magical string”.

Star Swirl himself, meanwhile, was carrying his robe and hat, and nothing else that Clover could see. “Because you are the assistant,” he said, “and I am the one hundred and seventeen-year old master wizard. Do you have everything on the list?”

Clover brought up the list: a single green leaf, broad and spiny, which floated in an intangible cube formed by eight small pieces of noble metals held in perfect alignment by magical forces. The leaf whispered, to any who dared hold it up to their ear and listen, a series of items, which Clover had dutifully collected. “I think that's everything,” she said.

“Excellent. Let me just lock down the house and we'll be off.” Star Swirl's adjusted his hat so his horn stuck out under the front brim, and concentrated. His horn lit up, his aura a strange mixture of pale light and deep darkness, and Clover felt the magic coursing through Canterlot House 1 change its purpose. “Alright, now hold still.”

There was a flash of blinding light, a sensation of motion, and then Clover's face smacked into the side of a tree. She yelped in pain and rubbed her muzzle in her hooves. Around her she heard strange birds cawing, and the sound of running water. They were in the middle of a thick, dark wood.

“There we are,” Star Swirl said. “I should like to see anypony find us now.” He licked a hoof and held it up. “Air acidity is at normal levels. That means the supervolcano is still stable. Alright, let's get going.”

Before Clover could speak, Star Swirl set off through the dense undergrowth without hesitation, pinpointed at an exact direction according to a compass Clover could not read.

“So,” Clover began as she strove to keep up with the old wizard, who marched forward as swiftly and easily as though he were walking on a broad cobblestone road rather than through thick plantlife never before trod by ponies, “where exactly are we, and what's on our agenda, professor?”

“With me staying in Cambridle lately, I've rather fallen behind on my field work,” Star Swirl said. “Since we're laying low anyway, I figured we would visit some of my research outposts and take some readings. As for where we are, we are in the Black Forest of Germaneigh.”

Clover gaped, her eyes wide. “You just teleported us—that's a thousand miles!”

“Well, don't expect to do that again anytime soon,” he said. “Canterlot House is built for that sort of thing. Long-distance teleportation is extremely demanding. Without Lightning Hydras or leyline energy, we have only the magical power we can scrounge from the terrain.”

They broke through to a clearing, with a bulge of bare, jagged rock in the center. From here, they could see that they were standing on a range of hills, and directly south of them rose a mountain. “That's the Pferdberg,” Star Swirl said. “We're going up there. I hope you're ready for a climb.”

– – –

They walked for hours, rising steadily, but as night fell they were still only a third of the way up the mountain. Star Swirl picked a spot to camp, and Clover set up their tents as Star Swirl set up his telescope and began stargazing.

Clover fell to her rump in exhaustion after she finally got both tents standing steady. “So where exactly is this research station we're going to?”

“Mizar and Alcor.”

“Is that on top of the mountain?”

“They're stars,” Star Swirl said, and shot her a Look. “I did a favor for them once, some years back, and in return I got them to hold a magic mirror for me. I'm looking at it right now.”

Clover stopped and thought about this for a second. “Star Swirl, if we were just going stargazing, why on earth did we walk all the way here? We can see the stars from home. We climbed a mountain, for Celestia's sake!”

Star Swirl shot her another, angrier look. “It's a very small mirror,” he growled. “You need to look at it from exactly the right angle.” He turned back to the telescope, and muttered a curse. “This position isn't quite right. Hold on to something.”

His horn lit up, and before Clover knew it the ground quaked beneath her. The horizon shook, and began to turn and shift, and a great thundering roar of breaking and setting stone rang out through the silent night.

Clover screamed and held on to a tree for dear life as the mountain walked beneath her, covering a dozen miles in a matter of minutes. Then, with a mighty crash, it sat down again in a new spot.

“Yes, that's much better,” Star Swirl said.

Half a minute passed before Clover dared to open her eyes again. Their camp was a shambles, their equipment strewn about the moss and thin grass and bushes, and their tents had collapsed.

Clover gingerly let go of the tree trunk and prodded the ground until she was satisfied that it was not going to move again. “Star Swirl?” she asked, as calmly as she could manage.

“Hm?”

“Did you just levitate a mountain so that you would have a better position for your telescope?”

“Of course not,” Star Swirl scoffed. “Nopony can levitate a mountain. Don't be silly.”

Clover looked at him and waited.

“No, I just manipulated the leylines to make the mountain think it was actually supposed to be a couple of miles over from where it was. Then, as soon as the mountain realized it was in the wrong place, it moved over here on its own as quickly as it could. Being in the wrong place is the most embarrassing thing that can possibly happen to a mountain. Once we're done here I'll return the leylines to their original position, and the mountain will go back again.”

Clover decided to change the subject. “...So what do you see in the mirror?”

“Let me see...” Star Swirl finished adjusting the telescope, and smiled. “There we are. Most of the world's mountains are slowly being worn down, but a few are growing taller. The dragon population is growing after the discovery of a massive gemstone deposit in the southern mountains, that's going to have repercussions down the line. Some major leylines are shifting, rather faster than is usual, indicating an increase in the power moving through them. That could be worth looking into further. And... hm, I need to get a message to Saddle Arabia that they're going to get a major earthquake in a few months time. Make a note of that, Clover.”

“You can see all that by looking through a telescope?” Clover's eyes lit up in awe as she got out a quill and a small notebook. “Some of the adventure books said that you could read the future in the stars. I guess that was a bit of hyperbole, and this is what they meant?”

“No,” Star Swirl said, his voice suddenly flat and guarded. “That was literally true. But that was a long time ago.”

The cold glance that accompanied the statement spoke wonders, and Clover decided that this was a very good topic to not ask about, possibly ever again.

– – –

By midnight, Star Swirl had finished his stargazing, and Clover had finished repairing the ruins of the camp, and the two of them sat in front of a small fire roasting marshmallows. Clover held hers in the traditional fashion, on a sharpened stick, and ate each as it was ready; Star Swirl levitated his above the fire, scrutinized each until he was certain they had reached a point of perfection, then fed them to small animals that Clover could barely hear, skulking in the shadows.

“Professor?”

“Hm?”

“You know that letter you received?” she cautiously began.

Star Swirl nodded, just once.

“Why was that letter such a big deal? I mean, you've been attacked... eight times, while I've been your assistant—”

“Nine times,” Star Swirl said. “You were out for tea, once.”

“Alright, nine,” Clover said. “None of them seemed to bother you at all. Why did this one suddenly make you decide to skip town?”

“Hrm...” Star Swirl tossed his marshmallow into a bush, and Clover heard a wet snuffling sound as something chomped it down. “As I said earlier, Clover, this seemed as good an opportunity as any to catch up on my field work. But since you ask,” Star Swirl continued, as Clover watched him with eagle eyes, clearly unsatisfied with this answer, “that letter was from my informant in the court of the Griffon King.”

Clover's expression changed from skepticism to guarded respect, with a dash of apology. “Oh.”

Star Swirl chuckled. “Don't worry about it. But does that answer your question?”

Clover nodded. She had read the story of Star Swirl's encounter with Griffon King Blaze. In fact she had read several of them. Each was more outrageous than the last, and all of them directly contradictory to one another.

The outlines of the story were well known: it was many years ago, at a time of political upheaval, when the griffons, ruled by the fearsome and ruthless King Blaze were conquering new territories in every corner of the map. As each new land fell to the griffons, an invasion of the Unicorn Kingdom and the other lands of ponies seemed inevitable. In an act either of brilliantly cynical calculation, or of abject desperation, the Unicorn King sent Star Swirl the Bearded as an ambassador to persuade the Griffon King not to attack. So the wizard went, and met with Griffon King Blaze at a secret summit, at the mansion of some griffon noble.

Nopony knew what happened there, and Star Swirl never spoke of it. But just a few days into the summit, the mansion burned to the ground, the griffon armies withdrew from the border to the lands of ponies, and Griffon King Blaze swore undying vengeance on the wizard. Since then, the Griffon Empire's borders had not expanded by one hoof.

Over the years since, a huge number of stories began circulating describing what had happened when the two of them met, each more wildly outrageous than the last. Clover now privately suspected that the reality, whatever it was, put all the stories to shame.

“Have any of the assassination attempts I've seen been from him?”

Star Swirl shook his head. “The Griffon King can afford the very best. Those are worth actually worrying about.”

Both of them sat silently for a few minutes, watching the fire.

“So where are we going next?”

“Out to sea,” Star Swirl said, tossing a marshmallow over his shoulder and moving another over to the fire. “The coast is a few days away.”

“Want to sing camp songs?” Clover asked hopefully. “I don't mean magical compulsion choreographed song and dance,” she said in response to his glower. “Just regular, voluntary singing. It's fun!”

“I was born with a deficient song gland,” Star Swirl said after a moment's thought. “I can't sing normally.”

“I happen to know you fixed that with magic when you were in your twenties,” Clover said. “I read your article in issue #299 of the Aetite Journal of Medical Studies.”

“...Yes, much, much too clever for your own good,” Star Swirl muttered. “It's going to get you into trouble someday.”

The next morning, they cleaned up their campsite and trotted off to their next destination. Once the wizard was gone, the leylines slowly returned to their original position, and the mountain sheepishly shuffled back to its home, suddenly realizing why all the other mountains had been trying to suppress their giggling all night.

It would never live this down. For a million years to come, it was the laughing stock of all the mountains of Germaneigh.

– – –

At noon, after a morning spent descending from the mountain through the forest, Clover felt the chill of a shadow fall on her, and looked up to find the sky cloudy overhead. It was not cloudy anywhere else; just directly overhead, a wide circle of thick, white cloud drifting across the skies.

As she looked, a winged pony swiftly crossed her field of vision before disappearing into the white. Then she noticed the intricate sculpted whorls and drifts decorating the cloud underneath.

She gasped. “Star Swirl... is that...?”

“Cloudsdale, yes,” Star Swirl said, looking up alongside her. “The first of the great cloud cities. What would be the capital of the Pegasus Republic, except of course that would be admitting that there exists a Pegasus Republic. Which, obviously, there doesn't, because every pegasus city is a free and independent state. The fact that the free pegacities all obey a military oligarchy run out of a mountaintop fortress is just a sign that they are all very good friends. It's a nice town to visit, though of course non-pegasi need special magic to walk on the clouds.”

Who is that, who soars through the skies on wings of magic? It is Clover of Cloudsdale! She who won the respect of the most embittered and crotchety of unicorns, and then banded together both horns and wings in friendship! “Do you think we could go visit it?” Clover asked, affecting a meek tone to cover her excitement. “I've always wanted to see a cloud city, and you can make the cloud-walking spell, I'm sure... Maybe we're not welcome though? Because, you know, we're unicorns, and they're... not that I have anything against pegasi...?” She racked her brain to try to think what was the least offensive alternative. “I mean, if you have something against Pegasi, I'm sure you have perfectly understandable reasons for it but I just don't think—”

Star Swirl was holding her muzzle shut with magic. “Clover,” he said quietly. “No, we're not going there. Remember that we are trying to stay low. While I dare say few pegasi even know who I am, somepony would certainly recognize me and send word to Commander Hurricane, and then I would have to fight off all of Storm Legion and we would miss our next stop.”

“Oh.” Clover bit her lip. “Commander Hurricane wants to kill you? What did you do to her?”

“Nothing,” Star Swirl said.

“Nothing?” Clover raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing. It was her mother, actually. Come on, we'll follow underneath the city and make camp under the trees when night falls.”

“Did you say underneath the city?” Clover asked, looking up with a guarded eye.

“Blue ice is just a myth,” Star Swirl said. “The Rainbow Factory is completely real, though.”

Clover's eyes widened in horror. “It is?!”

“Oh yes. I've seen it myself. A weather factory made entirely of rainbows. It's quite impressive, but I'm not sure why everypony thinks it's such a big deal.”

– – –

After another day of walking, the two ponies finally cleared the last bit of forest to see the glittering sea before them, waves crashing on the jagged, rocky coastline.

Star Swirl climbed up on a rock and grabbed a spyglass from one of Clover's many saddlebags, and scouted up and down the coast before nodding. “There's a village down there. We'll stop there for a rest and something to eat, and see about hiring a boat to take us out to the station.”

“Thank goodness,” Clover muttered. Her legs ached and her back was drooping from the weight of the scientific instruments weighing her down. “I'm not an earth pony... not that I have anything against earth ponies... I'm not built for this kind of work.”

Star Swirl either failed to hear her or simply ignored her. Either way, he said nothing and proceeded to trot down the path in the direction of the town, and Clover dutifully shuffled into motion behind him.

An hour later they walked up the dirt road to a small earth pony fishing village, a collection of small but solid stone cabins with thatched rooftops and a long pier lined with boats of varied size and age. Weathered old earth pony mares and stallions sat out in the salty wind, at work tending to their fishing tools, or else at play with a simple boardgame between two ponies and a few more watching from the sidelines. Every face turned to watch the unicorns' approach with mild interest. Star Swirl made no reaction to being watched, and Clover tried to nod and smile at everyone, hoping that nopony had heard or been offended at anything she may have said or thought about earth ponies, possibly carried on the wind as they walked.

An hour later, Star Swirl and Clover were far out to sea, on a sailboat helmed by an old seamare, crossing the ocean at remarkable speed while Clover rested her hooves, having finally let the huge stash of tools and gadgets off her back. She smiled, and lay back with her eyes closed, enjoying the feel of the sun on her face, until a shadow fell on her and she looked up to see Star Swirl looking serious under his hat brim.

“We're almost there,” he said quietly. “Pick up the equipment again and be ready to move.”

Clover mumbled a soft “yes, professor,” and listlessly got back up on her hooves. She began the laborious process of collecting all the equipment and deposing it on her back in the right order to fit it all on, and turned around to see where they were going to make landfall. She saw only ocean all around them.

“Go on,” Star Swirl urged her, and headed up to the prow to discuss their heading with the sailor. Clover grumbled, but finished collecting everything and securing it on her back just as Star Swirl came back. “Got everything?” he asked.

“Yes profess—” she began, as Star Swirl picked her up with his magic and tossed her overboard.

Clover panicked, her limbs flailing as she sank down under the weight of the equipment into the deeps. Her breath escaped in a gurgling, muffled scream as Star Swirl fell down on her from above, bringing with him a huge bubble of air. The bubble sucked her into it and left her lying, soaked and terrified, on the surface of the water.

“Sorry about that,” Star Swirl said. “I would have warned you, but I couldn't risk you revealing anything to anypony who might have been watching us.”

Clover sputtered and twitched and squirmed, and eventually managed to calm down enough to take a deep breath, and scream at the top of her lungs.

Star Swirl watched with interest as the sound sent ripples flowing over the inner surface of the air bubble. “Feeling better?”

Clover took another deep breath, and slowly let it out. “Actually, yes,” she admitted.

“Good,” Star Swirl said, and lit up his horn. The water around them began to glimmer, and a soft light spread all around them as the bubble descended. “It's not Cloudsdale, but I always thought this had a certain charm.”

Clover gasped, her eyes wide as the light expanded. After mere moments, the ocean floor was clearly visible far below them, an alien world covered in life that the dry surface could only dream of. Hundreds of varieties of fish, scuttling crabs, other shelled lifeforms, strange squishy things with an abundance of arms and legs, all swam and crawled amid the dense grasses and not-quite-trees of the ocean landscape, while in the distance a pair of whales sang, their dirge setting the bubble to shiver softly. She could see it all.

A sea pony pulled up alongside them, studied them quizzically, then laughed and swam away with unbelievable speed and grace, and disappeared.

The bubble sped up, and moved over the underwater forest, Star Swirl mumbling to himself, until they came to a point where the rock fell away into a deep ravine, and they dropped into it, leaving the life of the world above behind.

Clover shivered. Here, things with long, crooked, insectile legs hid in little nooks and crannies in the cliff as they passed, and the fish were strange and twisted things which never knew sunlight. A jellyfish a hundred leg-lengths across drifted lazily past as they sank ever deeper.

Other bubbles rose up to meet them now, and Star Swirl smiled. “Here we are.” Their bubble came to a rest on the very bottom of the ravine, where a crack in the earth spewed out glowing molten rock and thick plumes of smoke and gas.

“What is that?” Clover asked.

“That's Research Station #13,” Star Swirl said. “Get out the Iopometer.”

“Iopometer?” Clover bit her lip, suddenly nervous. “Which one is that again?”

“The one with the picture of a bull riding an arrow over Mount Ponymanjaro,” Star Swirl said.

“...I don't think that was on the list,” Clover said. “I don't remember packing that.”

“Seriously?” Star Swirl groaned. “I trusted you with this, Clover!”

“I've never even heard of an Iopometer before! You're the one that gave me the list!” Clover shouted. “And why couldn't you just have written it down instead of using that ridiculous leaf-thing?”

“Don't call Mister Leafy ridiculous!” Star Swirl cried. “He's been feeling depressed lately, I wanted to make him feel useful!” The old wizard shook his head, mumbling. “Fine, I'll make a new Iopometer. Just give me a few minutes.”

Clover watched as Star Swirl tore loose rocks from the sides of the ravine, and over a period of ten minutes transmuted and meticulously assembled a bizarre-looking contraction with many arms, a large and frightening metal needle in the middle, and an array of little round counters measuring Star Swirl knows what. “There, that should do the trick,” Star Swirl said, and jabbed the needle into the crack in the rock. The arms immediately began moving, the counters counting, and Star Swirl grabbed a quill and began to take notes.

“Wait,” Clover said. “If you can create this equipment on the spot from rocks and sand wherever you are, then why am I carrying around this sixty-pound telescope on my back?”

“I really like that telescope,” Star Swirl said. “It fits my eye.”

– – –

An hour went past. Clover was content to sit and study the ocean floor, analysing the magic that kept the bubble intact, the air inside it clean, and which kept them safe from both the crushing pressure of the water and the staggering temperature of the thermal vent they were parked on.

Star Swirl, meanwhile, laboriously deciphered the data from the Iopometer. Once or twice, Clover heard him mumble “this can't be right...”, and once, “three times, same results...”

At one point, Star Swirl disassembled the Iopometer, inspected each component for structural imperfections, and grumbled unhappily when he found none.

“I'm done here, and I know where we are going next,” he eventually declared, and lit up his horn. A second later, the bubble rushed upward at great speed, and before long they were back on the surface of the sea. The sun was deep in the western sky, and a chill wind was blowing.

“The volcanic power seems very effective,” Star Swirl said, nodding approvingly. “I charged the bubble with it. It should get us to our next destination. Onward!”

And with that, an invisible bubble holding two ponies and a pile of research equipment set roaring off across the ocean.

– – –

It was late at night, under a brilliant starlit sky, when they saw land again. Clover had no idea exactly how far they had travelled, though the position of the constellations suggested they were very, very far from Braytannia.

A sandy beach lay ahead of them. It stretched almost as far as the eye could see in either direction, and beyond it a thick primordial rainforest seemed to cover this new land.

Soon enough they made landfall, and Star Swirl strode up to the edge of the trees, and halted. “Where is it... Ah!” He turned and galloped down the beach. “Clover! Come quick!”

Clover ran up after him. “What is it, professor?”

“This is our next stop,” he said with the utmost severity. “I want you to listen very carefully, Clover. This is extremely important.”

Clover gulped, and nodded, mustering her courage and standing up as straight as she could manage under the weight. “I'm ready, professor!”

“Do you see this pebble?” He pointed at a particular pebble that lay between them.

Clover looked at it. “Yes.”

Star Swirl nodded. “I was afraid of that. This is even worse than I thought.”

Clover waited, expecting something more. Star Swirl turned, and walked slowly away, slouching, as though exhausted or despairing.

Clover looked at the departing stallion, and her mouth fell open. She looked from him to the pebble, and back again, as she felt the frustration-turning-to-anger rising in her throat. No! She bit down on her anger. I am going to do this methodically, thoroughly.

She reached out with her magic and felt the pebble: it lifted as easily as any other, and she brought it up close to her eyes, casting horn-illumination on it to see more clearly. Seeing nothing special about the rock, she scanned it for magic. There was only a minor enchantment on it. She was familiar enough with Star Swirl's magic to recognize his imprint, but the spell itself was only a minor anchoring spell, hardly noticeable, which wouldn't do anything beyond ensuring that the pebble would find its way back to the beach if chance carried it away. Nothing else. It was a rock like any other.

That can't be it! She focused her magic and looked deeper. Nothing.

No... wait...

A very particular nothing.

She poked it with her own magic, and felt it bounce off, like water off a pegasus' wings. She tried to prod the enchantment Star Swirl had put on it, and found herself unable to interact with it in any meaningful sense. Everything she tried gave the same result. It was locked, and would not allow anything to change it. The pebble was anti-magical.

“Come on, Clover!” Star Swirl called from further down the beach. “We'll set up camp here for tonight.”

– – –

The camp was ready in minutes, and Star Swirl sat staring into the fire, lost in his thoughts.

“Seriously though, professor,” Clover said, opting for the direct route, “what was that all about?”

“Was what now?” Star Swirl mumbled, not turning to face her. “Oh, the pebble?”

“Yes!” Clover said, a little more forcefully, she thought, than was really necessary.

“The pebble is an ontological failsafe test,” Star Swirl answered. “It proves that the universe still exists.”

Clover blinked. “How does that work?”

“It's quite simple,” the wizard said. “If the universe is destroyed, the pebble will be gone. The pebble was there, and so I can be confident that the universe has not been destroyed while I was busy doing something else.”

Clover tried to process this reasoning, and promptly failed. Forty different objections arose in her mind, each clamoring to be the first to escape her mouth.

The result was a sort of pained, sobbing gargle.

“There are so many things wrong with that idea,” Clover eventually said, “that I don't even know how to express it.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Star Swirl said, “let's assume that I've already thought about every objection you have, and resolved them to my satisfaction, and skip ahead to the important question.”

Why?” Clover cried. “What would even give rise to this question in the first place?”

“Well, remember that leyline disturbance I observed from the Pferdberg? I have some bad news,” Star Swirl began. “At Research Station #13, I had a closer look. With the Iopometer, I could monitor the flow of magic through geological strata in five dimensions. It registered a class-ten anomaly.”

“Is that very bad?” Clover asked.

“You could say that,” Star Swirl nodded. “According to the Star Swirl the Bearded Improbability Index, a class-ten anomaly is less likely, and potentially more dangerous, than the possibility that the universe has already been destroyed without us noticing, and that we are trapped in an imaginary existence. Hence the pebble.”

Clover nodded. “So what is this anomaly, do you know?”

“It could be a giant monster,” Star Swirl said, “of the kind that eats spacetime and poops small black holes. Or it could be a virus from another plane of existence, that infects thoughts and emotions. It could be a piece of melody that turns everypony who hears it into its slaves. It could be lots of things. Whatever it is, it needs to be dealt with. So we're going after it.”

Clover felt her heart beating with the spirit of adventure. “We're going to save the world?”

I'm going to save the world. You're going to observe and take notes for the test, while making sure to stay out of harm's way.”

“Killjoy,” Clover muttered. “So where is this anomaly?”

“I can't tell from the data I have now,” Star Swirl admitted. “Far away. We're going to have to visit some other research stations so I can try to triangulate its location.”

Clover nodded.

“Anyway, I promise that we'll still be back in Cambridle in time to meet your parents.”

“You're sure?” Clover asked.

“Yes. Well, sort of. If we're not done by then, chances are there won't be a universe left to call home, rendering the penalty for breaking the promise trivial. So yes, I promise.”

– – –

Much of the night was over before they went to bed, and when Clover woke up after too few hours of sleep every bone and muscle in her body was aching.

On Star Swirl's orders she clawed her way out of her tent and ate her dry travel oats for breakfast. The days of travel were beginning to wear her down, and she was not going to be of much help with saving the universe if she could barely keep her eyes open. “So where are we going next? Are we sailing again?”

Star Swirl shook his head. “I have another research station further inland,” Star Swirl told her. “It's a pretty major one, as well. But it's quite a distance in, and I'm not entirely sure where in the jungle we are.”

Clover turned to look at the jungle that dominated half the horizon. Thick clusters of green palm leaves cast deep, black shadows which the light could not penetrate more than a few feet inside the forest's edge. From far inland, the cries of wild animals could be heard. For a moment she thought she saw a pair of reflective eyes looking out at her from a particularly dark shadow, heard a low growl of something vaguely feline and definitely hungry. The wilderness was ancient, untouched, and extremely dense. “Oh. Lovely.”

– – –

“Come on, Clover!” Star Swirl yelled back at her through the dense vegetation. “We need to pick up the pace!”

“I'm... trying!” Clover answered as she clambered over a rocky ledge. They had been at it all day, and it had gone so slowly that Clover half suspected that if she looked back she would still see the beach through the trees behind them.

The telescope on her back caught on a low-hanging branch, throwing her off-balance. When she tried to find solid ground, she tripped on a root and toppled over, sending precious instruments flying into the undergrowth, and smacking the side of her head into a tree.

She rubbed her temples with her hooves, groaning softly as Star Swirl walked up to her with a stern expression. He was moving through the jungle as easily as he would trot across an open, grassy plain. She was covered in scrapes and bruises.

“You need to improve your technique,” Star Swirl said. “We'll never get to the anomaly at this rate.”

Clover tried to get back up on her hooves, but once again her saddlebags caught on something and sent her falling backwards into something spiky. She bit her lip, and sobbed softly. “I'm trying, professor, I just...”

“This is part of the life of the adventuring mage,” Star Swirl said, adjusting his hat. “You'll manage.”

“I can't navigate this!” Clover blurted out. “I can barely move a hoof without everything falling apart! The heat is killing me, I'm hungry and I'm tired and I'm covered in scratches and some of these things are liable to give me infections and I'm being devoured by magical mosquitoes and I think I'm allergic to this wild grass!” She was sobbing now. “Can we please take a break, professor? I think I might pass out if we keep going like this!”

Without warning the sky thundered overhead, and a few seconds later the monsoon started. Had she been in a better mood, Clover might have been fascinated to note that the canopy which so effectively blocked off all sunlight presented no barrier at all to the torrential deluge of rain that now descended on her. Heavy, thick rain that didn't so much fall as angrily punch the ground, along with any creatures unfortunate enough to be on it. Each drop was like a tiny whip-lash.

In seconds, Clover was soaked to the bone, her mane and tail lying limp and sticking to her coat. She thought she was crying, now, but it was hard to tell.

Star Swirl stroked his beard, dry and comfortable, watching Clover from under the brim of his hat. “It might be difficult to start a fire,” he said, “but let's try to find someplace sheltered to raise a tent.”

– – –

Ten minutes later, Clover was in her tent, wrapped in a blanket, tucked into the corner of a cluster of tree-trunks that kept her mostly out of the rain. She lay there, having dried herself off as best as she was able, pondering her weakness and her misfortunes as she watched Star Swirl sitting alone out in the rain engaged in some light crafting. Here I am just lying here feeling sorry for myself, and he's doing... something. Something productive, Clover thought to herself. The fate of the universe may hang in the balance, and I'm just slowing him down. Stupid jungle. She sighed loudly, then kicked herself for doing so.

“Feeling better?” Star Swirl asked, as he twined some strips of bark into a thin but powerful string. Then, he led the string through the hole of a needle he had transmuted from the metals in a rock he picked up from the ground.

“A little.” Clover sighed again. “I'm sorry, professor. Look... if you're running short of time, you can leave me and go on ahead,” she said, though her insides ached at the thought of failing. “There's enough oats left here for a few weeks, if I portion it out carefully. You should go save the world without me. I'll just be very careful not to be stung by anything deadly.”

Star Swirl chuckled. “Nonsense. You'll be up and running in a minute.”

Clover looked up at the jungle canopy, and at the small rivers that had already formed on the forest floor and were busily digging out deep trenches. “I don't think I could do any running in this monsoon, professor.”

“Hold on,” he said, tying off the string in a bundle of coarse fabric he had somehow made from the natural materials of the nearby trees. “It's been almost a hundred years since I last made one of these... There, and now for a little protection...” Clover could see the glow of his horn under his hat as he enchanted the bundle. “Finished!”

He got up and walked over to the tent, and dropped the bundle into Clover's forelegs. “Here. Try this on.”

Clover stood up and unfolded the bundle with her magic. It was a simple hooded cloak, brown, with no ornament other than the thin rope of the woven bark to tighten and tie around the neck. The enchantment, Clover saw, would keep it dry and at a comfortable temperature. It was not rich, nor fashionable, nor stylish. It was something a poor scholar might wear.

It was a gift from her teacher.

Clover felt a blush creeping up her cheeks.

She drew it over her back, and raised the hood and tied it comfortably close. It fit her perfectly, and under its enchantment all her discomfort and annoyance washed away. Star Swirl nodded. “The enchantment will last for about a week before it fades away. You can just throw it away when we get home.”

Clover felt a smile coming on, and began pulling down the tent. “Let me just get the things together here,” she said, “then we can keep going.”

– – –

The jungle was still dense, and the roots still had a nasty tendency to trip Clover up. But the insects, magical and otherwise, stayed away, and the cloak kept her dry and at a comfortable temperature. That made a huge difference, both for her state of mind, and for her efforts at navigating the wilderness. By midday, they had gotten deep into the jungle, and Star Swirl had somehow managed to recognize exactly where they were and charted out a course to their next destination.

In addition, the monsoon had ended with as little warning as it began after a few hours. “It's only small monsoon season,” Star Swirl had said.

An hour later, Star Swirl suddenly halted, gestured for Clover to be quiet, and pointed up ahead. “There it is.”

Clover gasped at the sight. In the distance, a soaring pyramid hove into view above the trees. It was built of huge blocks of golden-orange stone, with elaborate images carved on its face, the chronicles of ancient myths and wars. A broad stair lined with blazing torches led up to the pyramid's peak, where a black stone statue rose menacingly above a sacrificial altar. Standing on the stairs Clover saw the guardians of the temple, powerful jungle tribespony stallions clad in gold armor and feathered headdresses, black spears held, somehow, in their hooves.

“Behold, the Temple of Forgotten Doom,” Star Swirl whispered. “All who dwell here have been robbed of their spirits and transformed into soulless minions. We must be careful, lest we rouse the anger of the masters of this place.”

“That's our next stop?!” Clover whispered. “A literal jungle temple of doom?”

“That's right,” Star Swirl said. “Are you ready?”

The earth quaked beneath them as the temple collapsed, burying the portal along with the unknowable abomination that had emerged from it. “It is done,” Star Swirl said as huge rocks crashed down around them. “At long last, it is done. I only regret that I could only defeat my adversary by giving up my own life in return. But at least the world will live on.”

“No, Professor, look!” Dashing Clover pointed to a hole by a ledge on the wall high above. “That opening leads to the surface! If we get up there, we will be safe!”

“'Tis a miracle!” Star Swirl proclaimed. “You have saved my life yet again, Clover, and soon you shall become more famous and powerful than I!”

“I'm ready,” Clover whispered, struggling to contain her grin. “How do we get in? Should we sneak past the guards, or subdue them?”

“I will show you. But I must warn you, Clover,” Star Swirl began, speaking in an ominous tone, “the Temple of Forgotten Doom is difficult to enter, and treacherous to leave. The powers that rule this place can rob a pony of their spirits, and reduce them to soulless minions. We must be careful, lest we rouse their anger. Are you certain you are ready?”

Clover nodded.

“Very well. Follow me, and at all costs, do not panic.” Then he set off again, and Clover followed.

Clover expected that they would sneak through the jungle and attempt to enter the temple unseen. For that matter, she expected that the jungle would remain as thick as it had been up to that point. Instead, after going up through the last few yards of undergrowth the two of them found themselves on a clear, wide, stone road leading right up to the stairs of the pyramid.

Ponies clad in colorful flowery shirts and with brief informative pamphlets in their mouths ambled along the road in both directions. Nearby, a large sign pointed the way to destinations with names like “Happy Inn Restaurant,” “The Happy Families Exhibit,” and “Charming Castle Convention Centre.” Tinny music played in the distance, a jaunty tune that tried too hard not to be depressing. Hungry foals in baby carriages screamed, and nearby smiling ponies offered temple souvenirs and charms to everypony who passed by. A pony ran up to them wearing an oversized Ahuizotl costume that looked likely to kill them by heat stroke, and greeted them with a cry of “Welcome to the Temple of All-Consuming Happiness!”

He then let loose a hearty guffaw that was part sadness and part morbidity.

Star Swirl trotted up to the foot of the stairs under the disinterested gaze of the bottom guards. “Dave, Jim,” he greeted casually, and they nodded. “I need to take a look in the control room. Is Jeff in?”

They traded glances. “Jeff retired two years ago,” one of them said. “Donaldson is the temple manager now.”

“Beware of Donaldson,” intoned the other guard in ominous tones. “He is a stickler for the rules, truly, and will want you to sign in the visiting book in full.”

“Beware the visiting book,” the other guard nodded, facing Star Swirl with a harsh glare.

“I will not sign the visiting book,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “I will not dip my quill in your black pool of naming, or inscribe my heart with the sigil of your dread god. Behold! I know the low paths and the way of shadows, the greased gateway, and all the arts of passing unnoticed through restricted areas. Let me pass, and you shall feel the force of my recompense!”

With a flourish, Star Swirl held aloft, as you would a holy relic, a coin purse. From within, he lifted two stacks of bits, and dropped one into each of the upturned hooves of the two guards.

They nodded. “The password for today is 'Susannah',” said the first guard. “Susannah is Donaldson's wife. The break room should be empty right now, but in an hour we have our lunch break.”

“Beware the lunch break rush,” said the second guard.

“Beware!” repeated the first, and pointed to the side. Down at the base of the pyramid, a discreet cloth cover concealed the employee entrance.

Star Swirl strode down to it boldly, Clover following closely behind with all the equipment still on her back, and together they delved inside the section of the Temple of Forgotten Doom that was not open to the public.

– – –

Inside the bowels of the Temple of Forgotten Doom, where tourists now roamed in place of cultists, and middle-management had replaced the high priests who tended to the temple before the immortal Ahuizotl had been beaten back into centuries of slumber, Star Swirl and Clover considered the pressure-plated floor in the corridor leading to the inner sanctum.

“If I am deciphering these hieroglyphs properly,” Star Swirl said, scrutinizing the image of some manner of two-headed cat creature through a magnifying lens, “the correct spelling of 'Susannah' should be cat-creature, obelisk, ennui-obelisk, and finally cupcakes.” He pressed down on the four tiles, and Clover heard a click from the ceiling above them.

A stone slid open, and a swarm of venomous spiders flowed out. Clover yelped and leapt up on a nearby plinth, while the spiders crept down through cracks in the floor and carefully reset the pressure plates to their ready position. Then they crawled back up to the ceiling, making low scratching-sounds of complaint in the direction of the old wizard.

“My bad,” Star Swirl said. “That should of course have been inverted-obelisk, not ennui-obelisk. Foolish mistake.”

This time there was a click from the wall behind them, and Clover turned to see that a hidden door had swung open. Inside was the fabled break room, a large, but dusty and dry chamber filled with uncomfortable-looking chairs and low tables, the walls covered in faded motivational posters.

They crossed the break room and arrived at a low, narrow doorway with a thick wooden door, upon which hung two signs. The first was a simple wooden plaque which read CONTROL ROOM in large letters. Underneath it, fastened on the door with thick screws and looking significantly older, was a stone marked with the words “Star Swirl the Bearded Research Station #33”, and “KEEP OUT” engraved on it in very large red letters.

“Here we are,” Star Swirl said as he unlocked the door with a simple, old-fashioned key. “Let's see what kind of damage these clowns have done...”

“Wait a minute,” Clover said. “You have a private lab in the Temple of Forgotten Doom?”

“Yes. What did you think we were doing? I'm not here for my health, you know.”

“I... don't know,” Clover admitted. “I thought maybe we were hunting for a hidden relic that had been waiting here for centuries, slowly taking the earth's magic into itself?”

“Well, that's pretty much what it is. Except it's not a hidden relic, it's a resonance meter in a fixed position.” Star Swirl opened the door and stepped inside. “It's quite convenient, really. Doom cults come and go, but the temples stay forever. You can leave sensitive instruments in here and nopony will disturb them for decades. It does mean you have to get past the current residents when you want to check up though. Still, you can slap a 'do not enter under any circumstances' sign on the door and they'll actually obey it. Soulless minions are good like that.”

The control room was a small, square chamber with low ceilings and no windows. A dingy, yellowish light gave off a weak yet sharp buzzing sound, and everything was covered in many years worth of dust. The walls were faded black, and the walls were lined with strange mechanical and magical instruments, like a storage room from Star Swirl's own house which had been misplaced in space and forgotten.

At the wizard's approach the instruments seemed to come to life, little lights turning on and off, and humming, as though they were breathing.

“Everything seems to be operating,” Star Swirl said. “Keep watch at the door while I retrieve the data.” Clover felt the magic in the room activate as Star Swirl began pressing buttons and turning knobs that sent the devices into a frenzy of activity marked by clicks, beeps and the sound of something spinning at great speeds.

Clover relieved herself of the equipment and stretched her back with a sigh of relief, then stood by the door, leaving it slightly ajar so she could peek out the crack and keep a look out.

After about ten minutes, a pair of temple guardian ponies came into the break room, still wearing their uniforms and ceremonial headdresses. At the first sound, Clover pushed the door shut, and knelt down to look through the keyhole: she saw them sit down right outside, right in her field of sight, and close enough to hear their discussion. It seemed to be oriented mostly around the weather, and inter-departmental gossip about which sections had the best organizational charts, and speculation about what might be on the eagerly-anticipated redesign of Form D-145-O.

“There are two guards outside,” she whispered in Star Swirl's direction. He nodded.

One of the guardians took off his headdress and put it down on the table. As the headdress came loose, the glamer dropped from his body, revealing the grotesque, rotted visage of a zombie pony. His companion followed suit, and their talk turned to the oblivious, low groans of the walking dead.

Clover's mouth hung open, in slack-jawed, yet vaguely cynical horror at the sight. “...Professor?” Clover whispered. “Are you...” bucking serious? No, let's not. She shook her head. “There's a, um... Are you almost done back there?”

“Just a minute,” Star Swirl called back, Clover thought, far far too loudly. “I'm almost finished, the data store is almost completely barren here... hey now... hold on...”

“Hey now?” Clover whispered. “What does 'hey now' mean?”

Star Swirl didn't answer. Outside, more ponies were coming into the break room and sitting down as zombies.

“Professor?” No answer. “I think they may have lied to you about when the lunch break was starting.”

Outside, a large zombie pegasus mare raised her head, sniffed loudly, and turned to face the direction of the door. Then she groaned loudly, got up, and slouched towards the control room. Soon after, others got up and followed her.

“Star Swirl?” Clover called out nervously. “They've noticed us. I think they're coming over.” She looked to her mentor, who was staring at the machine with glowing eyes. “Star Swirl?”

“Star Swirl the Bearded is not in right now,” he responded in a monotone an octave lower than his usual voice. “Please leave a message after the chime and he will respond when and if he decides it is worth his time to do so.” Then one of the bells in his hat made a little ding.

Outside, the zombies gathered at the door and began to pound on it. “Star Swirl!” Clover yelled, no longer attempting to keep quiet. “We're besieged by zombies! We need to get out of here!”

“Download 46% complete,” the monotone voice responded. “Estimated time remaining, four minutes and twelve seconds. Four minutes and eight seconds. One minute and thirty-two seconds. Two days. Four weeks. One year. Fifteen minutes and fifty-eight seconds. Four minutes and eight seconds. Four minutes and four seconds. Four minutes...”

A half-rotted leg smashed through the door right beside Clover's head, and she leapt away with a yelp, before focusing her magic on trying to hold the door in place. “I just hope you can teleport us back out of here when you're done, or something...” she muttered as the door became performated by holes. “Seriously, how are zombies so strong? You are literally falling apart, your gross rotten muscles should be just smooshing out and rubbing ooze over the door, not smashing through it!”

The zombies, being practical thinkers, merely groaned in response and presented empirical proof to the contrary.

Clover fought to hold the barrier together and in place, but by now a large group had formed outside, and the blows rained down, quickly reducing the door to a loose net of broken wood. With a loud crack, the hinges gave up and the door fell inward, trampled underneath their hooves.

“Any time you feel like helping out, professor!” Clover said, levitating a plank from the busted door and repeatedly smacking the first zombie over the head with it as it tried to force its way in the narrow opening. The zombie groaned in objection.

“Download 85% complete. Estimated time remaining, one minute and twenty-nine seconds.”

“Alright, Clover, time to put your extensive reading of sword and sorcery adventure novels to use. What works against zombies?” she said to herself. “Destroying the brain, obviously, but in the absence of an axe or any kind of high-velocity projectile... Fire!” She focused her magic and attempted to set the dry plank ablaze.

She succeeded in mere seconds, and grinned as the flames burst to life. Then she began hacking and coughing as smoke filled the tiny chamber. The zombies seemed frightened, but since the first ones in were being pushed further along by the swell of bodies behind them, or else just trampled underhoof, this had limited efficacy.

Clover doused the torch again by shoving it into the first zombie's open mouth. Clover squealed as the next zombie in line, a pegasus mare, stepped over the fire-eating zombie and slouched forward to grab her. Acting on instinct, she tried to grab her with magic and push her back, and was surprised to find it actually worked quite well.

Clover slapped her forehead. “...lifeless matter is easier to lift. Of course zombies qualify. Brilliant, Clover. Well! Let's see how you like your completely illogical muscle strength when it's being used to bash your own heads in!” Clover gritted her teeth and raised the zombie in the air, the dead mare's withered legs twitching and reaching, and began clubbing the other zombies with her, splattering zombie viscera all over the walls, floors and ceiling.

“Download complete.” Star Swirl slumped forward as he returned to his senses. “I really must upgrade this equipment sometime.”

“Professor!” Clover yelled between swings of her zombie-bludgeon. “Please tell me you can teleport us out of here!”

Star Swirl got back up on his hooves and looked at his apprentice. She was standing in the middle of a pile of zombie gore, looking at him with wild eyes, her mane a frazzled mess, dual-wielding zombies to hold back a neverending row of other zombies. “More or less. There's a dormant wormhole in the closet in the corner, grab the instruments while I open it.”

“The instruments?” Clover cried out in disbelief. “Are you serious? Just get us out of here!”

Star Swirl groaned, rolled his eyes, and lifted the instruments himself as he opened the closet. Inside, a tiny black lump of unmatter spun in place. He shot a bolt of magical power into it, and it opened, like a flower, growing until it was the size of a pony. Clover looked at it. It was a hole in the fabric of space, through which she could see distant flickers of light, wrapped up in the surface of a great black flower, its petals waving, held between its own power trying to curl in itself and Star Swirl's magic forcing it open. Then she felt herself get picked up in a magical aura, and she, Star Swirl, and the instruments all jumped inside it.

– – –

When Clover landed, the first thing she did was throw up. The second thing was to look around. There was no sign of the wormhole, and no zombies appeared to have followed them through. She sighed, relieved. “Are we safe?”

“No,” Star Swirl answered flatly. “Well, from zombies yes, but zombies are not even in the top-thousand list of causes of pony fatalities. You're more likely to be killed by daisies than zombies.”

“I'm not sure those statistics are sound,” Clover muttered. “Where are we now?”

They were standing on what looked like an abandoned and overgrown road in a forest, a free forest, lacking the little touches and conveniences of pony-inhabited terrain.

“A wild zone,” Star Swirl said, scowling at the close nature around them. “It's called... Well, it doesn't really matter now. It was abandoned, long ago. Nopony lives within a fifty miles from here.”

They were quiet for a moment, watching the trees suspiciously. Clover took off her coat and examined it, grimacing when she saw it was covered with zombie gore. “Well, at least we got away from the zombies, be they statistically significant or not,” she said. “I just hope that big node of data kept you occupied for a reason, and not just to help me find the confidence to believe in myself. What was in it, anyway?”

“The usual,” Star Swirl said. “Atmospheric data, seismic activity, magical scans and readings... I think I know what the anomaly is now. But there's just one last research station to visit to find out for sure, and where.”

Clover was going to ask for the details when she saw the look on her teacher's face. It spoke of a pain unlike any she had seen him show in her time with him. He caught her glance, and his face softened slightly. “This trip has proven somewhat more demanding than I had anticipated,” he said. “Follow me.”

He turned and headed down the road, and before long they came to a clearing with a lone tree in the middle, a young golden oak. “We will make camp here for tonight.”

That night Clover washed her new cloak in a nearby stream, finding that the enchantment made it easy to wipe it clean of the remnants of the trotting dead, and did not ask her teacher any questions.

– – –

The next day, they followed the road until it disappeared amid the aggressive life of the wild forest. Then they continued on.

Clover watched the woods closely as they went, and noted that it didn't just grow thicker: the trees grew more gnarled and contorted. The grass was taller and thicker than normal grass, and individual blades were growing strange new evolutionary forms that could try to snatch small creatures like a whip or a net and hold them fast. There were animals lurking with unusual count of eyes, tracks with one paw and one hoof and one sharp talon, and no fourth leg. As they walked, Clover felt certain that each new creature watched them pass, and fell into line to follow behind them, waiting for a chance to strike. The sun disappeared from overhead, and the air was thick with wild magic that made Clover's horn itch, and every wind felt like something breathing in her ear. Through it all, Star Swirl walked straight ahead, never slowing or turning his head.

In the end, after many hours of walking, they passed through the ruin of a once-prosperous city, now being ground to nothing at the speed of nature and magic. Hardly a wall remained in place, and the wilderness had reclaimed every yard.

Star Swirl upped his pace slightly.

Beyond the city they came to the edge of a great ravine. A simple rope bridge led across it, and beyond it lay a hill, and atop the hill rose the dark and broken walls of a mighty castle brought to destruction.

They stopped at the edge of the ravine. Star Swirl looked down into the gorge beneath them for several minutes straight without speaking.

“The triangulation is complete,” he finally said. “I know where it is.”

Clover opened her mouth to speak, and the words were lost in spacetime.

– – –

A flash of light. A sensation of motion.

The wind howled all around them, and snow whipped Clover's face as she tried to get her bearings.

Once again they were high up a mountain, deep in the wilderness. It was night-time, and the air was brilliantly cold and clear. Ripples of multi-colored light moved across the sky underneath the stars, and no habitation or road was visible anywhere in the snow-clad hills and valleys beneath the mountains.

“Where are we now?” Clover yelled to be heard over the gale.

“The frozen north,” Star Swirl said as he climbed towards the ridge of the mountain above them. “Weeks of galloping from where we were. The anomaly should be right over... Ah yes.” He stood at the ridge and looked beyond it, at something Clover could not see. “There it is.”

Clover clambered up alongside him, and looked. Across the mountain ridge was a great glacier, reflecting multi-colored dancing lights. Above, filling the sky, a vast vortex of churning clouds spun in a stormy spiral, lit by lightning which went off near-constantly, and the ethereal, shimmering aurora. The display was terrible, and beautiful.

Clover stood dumbstruck at the enormity of the sight. “What is that?” she managed to ask.

“Dimensional rift,” Star Swirl the Bearded said. “A truly massive one. The biggest I've ever seen, in fact. It reaches clean through the fabric of spacetime that separates different dimensions, and rips apart everything it touches. It's growing quickly, too. If we don't stop it, it will reduce the multiverse to nothingness within a moon.”

“You know how to stop it, though?” Clover asked.

Star Swirl clicked his teeth together. “There were once a pair of ponies who were responsible for this sort of thing,” Star Swirl mumbled, frowning. “But they're long gone now. In the meantime, I take care of them as they arise. Let me just measure the power level of this thing.” He raised a strange device covered with buttons and a small screen. It clicked and bleeped and buzzed, and with a ding, gave back its answer. Clover looked: it showed an infinity sign.

“That's alright,” Star Swirl said. “If I'm not mistaken, we should be having some reinforcements arriving just about...”

There was a sound like paper ripping, and a flash of intense light to their left, and both Star Swirl and Clover turned to see a hole in spacetime just a few yards away.

Through it, silhouetted against the light, were two pony figures. One wore a robe and pointy hat; the other was loaded down with astronomical equipment.

“There they are,” the pointy-hatted figure called out with an old mare's voice. “See? Told you I cut a dashing figure. Hey there, Star Swirl!”

“Hello, Swirly Star,” Star Swirl said. “Is anypony else coming from your side of the multiverse?”

The mare stepped up towards the ridge, and Star Swirl went up alongside her. She was a unicorn, her horn just visible under the brim of her hat, skinny, her coat grey-turned-white with age, her eyes sharp and clear, and she was dressed exactly like the stallion standing beside her.

“Oh Celestia, there's two of him,” Clover whispered to herself.

“I'm afraid not,” Swirly Star the Wise said. “I've been scanning imaginary numbers of alternate universes and have come up with nothing. Either they're all dead, or they're busy with something more important. How about you?”

“The same. So we're still at, what, 98.2% parallel?”

“Seems that way.” She whistled at the sight before them. “That's a beaut! This is the anomaly?”

“That's the one,” Star Swirl said. “So what are you thinking, a five-universe gambit?”

“More like seven-universe. No need to crimp ourselves.”

“Right. Give us some space to move.”

“I guess we should just get started, then.” There was another sound of ripping spacetime and a portal opened ahead of the two wizards, and they stepped forward. One of them—Clover was not sure which, the interference of uneven reality made it difficult to tell—yelled back, “You stay here!”

Then there was a flash of light, and the portal closed behind them, leaving Clover standing on the mountainside.

She ran forward towards the spot where her teacher had stood, and as she did she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye, to her left. She turned, and saw a young leaf-green stallion wearing a cloak identical to hers looking back at her.

“Oh, hello,” they both said, simultaneously. “I'm Clover.”

Come back next time, for the CRISIS OF INFINITE STAR SWIRLS!

“Infinite?” Clover asked.

Star Swirl nodded. “I'm half of infinity by myself, so it only takes two of me.”