The sky grew darker and the snow began to fall more heavily as the princess and I trudged through the streets of the walled town. The warmth from her wing at my back faded away as we traveled. Soon my jaws were chattering involuntarily and I could no longer feel my tail. “Come, Pangolin,” Luna said, “thou art turning blue with cold. Let us show thee some Celestrian hospitality after thy ordeal.” Luna looked around at the nearby buildings, but most of the houses were now dark and still. By some strange coincidence, those that weren’t tended to become so as we approached.
At the first house we reached with a light still burning, Luna stepped forth and paused at the doorstep, taking a deep breath and mentally preparing herself for whatever she anticipated next. After making ready, she raised a hoof and knocked lightly against the door.
For a few moments, nothing happened, but just as she was about to knock again, someone within opened the door a crack. All I could see was an orange pony’s nose.
“What do you want at this hou—oh my Celestia!” the pony said. Then followed a noise that was apparently the speaker prostrating himself on the floor. “Please don’t hurt us! We’re sorry for whatever we did!”
Luna lowered her head to the pony’s level and tried to smile disarmingly. “FEAR NOT, GOOD CITIZEN,” she bellowed. “WE CALL BECAUSE OUR COMPANION HATH URGENT NEED OF SHELTER THIS NIGHT. MAY WE ENTER THY DWELLING?”
“I—I—um, well…” the pony babbled.
“Barleycorn, who is it?” called a sleepy voice from inside and upstairs. “Tell ‘em to quit yelling and go away until sunup!”
“But sugar pie, it’s… it’s…” Barleycorn cried back up the stairs, opening the door a bit wider so the other inhabitant could see.
A floating candle and a disheveled unicorn’s head and forelegs, wrapped in a thick wool blanket, peeked down from the loft at the top of a steep flight of stairs. At that distance, I couldn’t tell whether it was the sight of Luna, myself or the combination thereof that made her gape. (Also, was ‘sugar pie’ a name or only a term of affection?)
The other pony’s shock did not last long. She began groaning and sniffling theatrically into her hoof. “Oh, oh dear, I’m so sorry your highness,” she rasped through a suddenly-scratchy throat. “We’d love to help but,” the pony coughed for six seconds straight, as if trying to expel her lungs, “…but we wouldn’t want you or that thing to catch ill.”
Barleycorn looked from her to us a few times before catching on, then he too began to show sudden onset of sickness.
Were all of my upper limbs not already hugging my body for warmth, I would have certainly folded them to show my skepticism. As it was, I simply kept shivering and looked to the princess.
Luna’s eyebrows drew together. “O, THOU WRETCHED PONIES!” she cried.
As much as I wished to discourage Nightmare Moon’s contemptuous impression of the other ponies, I had to agree. Not only was this behavior miserable, to expect such a transparent ruse to work was an insult to our intelligence!
“…WE KNEW NOT THERE WAS ILLNESS IN THIS HOME. SHALL WE SUMMON A PHYSICIAN?”
I nodded severely at the ponies, then did a double-take. Was she actually falling for this act?
The homeowners were also caught flat-footed. “I-um-ah, that… that won’t… no, thank you, your highness,” the mare croaked.
Luna looked stricken. “THOU ART BEYOND THE AID OF PHYSIC? YET SURELY THERE IS SOME CURE THAT WILL AVAIL TO HEAL THEE. SHALL WE SEEK THE ENCHANTED FLOWER GUARDED BY THE DREAD TATZLWURM?” she asked.
“N-no, we just—” Barleycorn began.
“THE SILVER APPLES OF RENEWAL?”
“Please, it’s not—”
“A DRAUGHT FROM THE WELL AT THE WORLD’S END? THOUGH THE JOURNEY BE PERILOUS, WE WOULD GLADLY BRAVE IT FOR OUR BELOVED SUBJECTS!”
“No, no your highness!” the mare in the loft finally shouted, forgetting to pretend to have a sore throat. “It’s just really contagious, right Barleycorn?”
“What? Uh… yeah!” he said, then coughed again for good measure.
“We’ll be fine in a day or so, but we can’t have you or your new pet getting sick, can we?”
Luna took a step back. “…WE SUPPOSE NOT. WE ARE GRATEFUL FOR THY CONSIDERATION, GOOD MARE. PLEASE RETURN TO THY REST. I WISH THEE AND THY HOUSEHOLD A HASTY RECOVERY.”
Without another word, the ponies in the house shut the door in our faces and set the bolt.
The princess sighed, turned and trudged on down the street, head hanging low.
I hurried along beside her on numb, aching feet, unable to hold my peace. Had she truly not seen that the ponies within were lying to her, I asked.
“Of course we knew, Pangolin,” she said. “We were not foaled yesterday.”
Why, then, did she not call them out? Didn’t she rule by night? Couldn’t she exercise her authority and force them to take us in? The cold had made me somewhat more petulant than usual.
Luna looked at me sidelong. “And be thought a tyrant atop all the other things they say of us? We could not bear it,” she sighed. “But be of good cheer, Pangolin; we will find hospitality soon. ‘Friendship is the guiding precept of our kingdom.’ ” The final statement was spoken in a monotone, as if Luna were reciting a line she had learned only by rote.
The next house we stopped at claimed sickness as well. The one after that begged us off too, excusing their lack of hospitality with a story about an infestation of vermin. Another announced they were just about to leave on an urgent errand in the middle of the night through a blinding snowstorm. The princess loudly offered her aid, even for menial tasks like rat-catching or house-sitting, then accepted each excuse and moved on, growing more unhappy and embarrassed with each attempt.
Notably, as with the guards before, all the ponies we called upon seemed to be copies of the original couple with minor differences in costume and coloration. It was all very suspicious.
Instead of feeling anger or pity, I only felt detached from all the proceedings, and followed along in shivering silence. None of this was really happening, wasn’t it? And what would I tell her when she at last asked me to make good on my promise to reveal her enemy’s secrets? That this world, the ponies of whom she was so solicitous, and she herself were merely the dreams of a (possibly) real creature who vehemently hated all that Luna loved? I wasn’t sure I could deliver such a crushing revelation, even to an imaginary being.
Upon leaving the doorstep of the fifth house (which was apparently condemned and unfit for royalty, though still occupied) I tripped into a bank of snow along the side of the street and found myself struggling to rise. Luna stared at me in pity, then lay down in the snow beside me and lit her horn with a spell. To my dismay, even the hairy creature’s proximity offered no relief from the cold. The snow around us flew upward into a cloud of minute shimmering crystals, then coalesced into a slanted wall of ice over our heads. The wind was immediately broken by this barrier, a small mercy, but I still felt deathly cold sitting on the bare cobblestones of the street.
“Poor Pangolin,” Luna said, “we know what agues thee, this coldness that robs strength and will. Pray forgive us the chilly reception thou hast received. The fault is our own.”
Between struggling with chattering jaws and a tired, floating feeling, I remarked that she seemed to be doing everything reasonable, and was not to blame for the actions of the other ponies. Still, any source of heat would be most, most welcome!
Luna’s mane, though hidden from the wind, billowed around her head and hid her face from me. “Thou art too kind, Pangolin. It has ever been our responsibility to teach and uplift our subjects with our good example. Thou witnesseth in the cold hearts all around us the proof of our failure.”
I hinted that I was, at this point, rather more concerned with the literal type of cold than the metaphorical.
She nodded, and a spark wafted from her horn, floated over my prone form, and then hung in the air, growing into an orb of blue light that began to radiate a faint heat, but the glow of enchantment crackled across my skin and the sensation of warmth faded with it. Desperate, I reached up and tried to seize the heat source to hold against my body, but it popped like a soap bubble at my touch.
Luna clicked her tongue. “Tis as we feared; thy enchantment shields thee from every form of magic, even a spell as harmless as a cantrip of warmth. The midst of this icy tempest is an ill site for the delicate process of disenchanting so strong a spell. Thou requireth heat of a mundane sort, else thou shalt perish.”
At this point I would not complain overmuch if she simply set fire to the town. (If even that would help. If non-magical heat would work, why could I not feel heat from her body?)
Didn’t she have a home of her own, I asked. A palace, even? Surely we could shelter from the storm in there!
Her back tensed at the suggestion. “NO!” she snapped, then mastered herself, taking a deep, steadying breath. “We do not think… our sister would not—our palace… is too distant for thee to journey,” she said at last. “Thou wouldst freeze solid ere we reached it in this tempest. We must find thee warmth and shelter nearby.” Eager to divert the conversation, Luna pointed to a building further down the main street, larger than the others, with a wooden sign hanging over the door. “Ah! Look there, a public house! All are free to enter, or so we are given to understand. Within we shall surely get thee acquainted with Celestria’s better side.”
I refrained from asking why we hadn’t gone there first.
The building’s windows were lit and spilled light and muffled noise out into the street, just enough to illuminate the green sign. It showed a large gold-colored drinking vessel with a rounded grip on either side. Below the picture, the words ‘The Stirrup Cup’ were painted in red.
Luna caught me up in a wing and hastily cantered over to the building’s entrance. Instead of knocking, the princess simply pushed the door open and entered. Smoky smells, the sounds of many voices and the faintest breath of warmer air rushed over me.
“GOOD NIGHT TO YOU ALL,” Luna boomed over the clamor, shaking snow off her wings and head, much of which landed on me.
The rumble of conversation immediately died as every head in the establishment swung to stare at us. By now, I recognized a good number of the faces.
The princess surveyed the silent crowd and waved awkwardly. “WE VISIT THIS FINE HOUSE AS BUT THY FELLOW GUESTS,” she said, “PLEASE, CONTINUE THY MERRY REVELS. LET US NOT INTRUDE UPON THY CAROUSING.”
In spite of her request, the entirety of the clientele continued to glare in our direction. Luna pretended not to notice and busied herself placing me back on my feet and thoroughly brushing the snow off me with her wing.
As soon as she turned away from the patrons to do this, the muttering began.
“—what she thinks she’s doing, barging in here—”
“—should be out fighting monsters, not bringing them into town—”
“—sister wouldn’t shirk her duties like this—”
Luna finally let me alone and strode further into the room, wearing a smile more strained than ever. “WE BEG THY PARDON FOR ANY TROUBLE,” she said. “ALLOW US TO DEMONSTRATE OUR GOOD WILL. PUBLICAN, A ROUND FOR THE HOUSE!”
Most of the patrons perked up at this, but the frown of the pony behind the bar deepened. “Drinks are cash up front,” he said, using a stained rag to polish the inside of a drinking vessel similar to the one on the sign.
Luna looked incredulously from the pony tending bar to the chalkboard hanging from the wall behind him marked with a number of rather long-running tabs. “BUT THIS—” she began.
“That’s for patrons I know and trust, your highness.”
The princess was confused and offended. “BUT SURELY OUR WORD IS ENOUGH! THOU SHALT BE REIMBURSED FROM THE ROYAL TREASURY AT THE EARLIEST POSSIBLE OPPORTUNITY.”
The other pony’s frown turned into a sneer. “Listen, your highness, maybe you haven’t heard, but Glorious Celestia, May She Reign Forever, declared all ponies equal a few centuries ago. You can try to bribe us with our own tax money, but you don’t get to walk into my house and demand that I give you special treatment just because you’ve got a fancy hat and a pedigree.” The rest of the ponies, realizing they weren’t getting any largesse, grumbled agreement.
Luna drew back, shocked and ashamed. “PLEASE, WE MEANT NO OFFENCE; WE MERELY WISH TO WARM OUR COMPANION BEFORE THY FIRE. GRANT US BUT THIS AND WE WILL TROUBLE THEE NO MORE.”
I had, by this time, already made my way over to the fire unnoticed, as the owner and his patrons were distracted by their predictable compulsion to pour hatred upon the royal whipping-pony. I sat with all six claws outstretched as close to the flames as I could bear. Even then, I could barely feel the heat of the flames, only a lack of further coldness.
The moment the princess mentioned me all eyes in the establishment swung in my direction.
“No pets allowed,” the owner growled.
“PANGOLIN IS NOT A PET,” Luna explained. “HE IS—”
“That’s the monster that broke through the wall earlier!” a pony in the crowd yelled. Several more ponies made exclamations of fear and outrage.
“You’re supposed to protect us from things like that!” one accused.
“HE IS NOT AN ENEMY,” Luna shouted back. “WITHOUT WARMTH, HE WILL PERISH!”
I tried to say something myself, but the chorus of rising voices drowned me out. Several nearby ponies seized me with teeth, hooves, wings and magic. I was pulled in several directions at first, as I had been when the statues first attacked, but then one of them said “you heard her highness, fellas,” and the ponies began trying to shove me into the fire. I was able to grip the edge of the stone fireplace with three of my claws, but the strength of the mob was too great for me to resist for long.
The rest of the ponies began shouting accusations at the princess.
“It attacked our town, and she’s trying to save it?!”
“She’s a traitor! She’s helping the monsters against us!”
“When Glorious Celestia, May She Reign Forever, hears of this—”
Though I was still protected by the spell, the flames, just a few inches from my belly, nonetheless felt painfully hot. Perhaps the magic wouldn’t let me burn to ashes like my poor brother, or perhaps I’d wake up later unharmed, but being held in the fire and baked in the meantime did not seem like a preferable alternative. I struggled and cried out to Luna for help.
“ENOUGH!” Luna roared, holding her head above the hostile crowd like a pinnacle of rock jutting from a stormy, multicolored sea. “LET HIM GO! LET US LEAVE IN PEACE!”
The ponies ignored her plea. My death-grip on the mantle began to weaken. The hairs on my belly had started curling and turning white from exposure to the flames.
Then, something like a cool, pleasant-scented breeze struck my back and made the magic shell around my body blaze in response. The entire howling mob went silent, and the pressure of hooves, wings and heads against my back weakened, then vanished entirely.
Still holding on tightly, I turned my head to look at the room behind me. All the ponies seemed dazed and stunned, blinking heavily and swaying on their feet. Then, in twos and threes, the whole crowd sank slowly to the ground or slumped limply in their seats. In moments, Luna was the only one left standing. Her face was lit strangely by the blue fire surging around her horn.
Before I could ascertain whether the ponies were dead or merely sedated, from somewhere above the roof came uproarious, mocking laughter, loud enough to be heard above the wind, which had in the space of seconds arisen from a dull roar to a whistling howl.
The whole building creaked and groaned as the strengthened storm tore the entire thatched roof away into the night, leaving a black, gaping hole above our heads. Out of this blackness descended a creature equally dark, falling as lightly as a snowflake to alight on the floor between myself and Luna.
Nightmare Moon surveyed the room and flashed a bright, jagged-toothed smile. “Well, if it isn’t my two favorite thorns in my side! I suppose it’s too much to hope, but have either of you learned anything on this little outing?”