//------------------------------// // Chapter 12: Beware of Dog // Story: The Advent of Applejack // by Mister Friendly //------------------------------// Bumblebee knew that day would come. She’d held out hope that it wouldn’t; that she could continue living her life the way she liked. But deep down, she’d known… she’d always known. Someday, somepony would ask a question. And that would be the end of it. And so, she’d carefully made a plan in case the inevitable came to pass. She’d practiced, rehearsed, and refined until she had perfected it. She knew it would work on that day. She would be safe, at the very least. And so, when that day came, as she knew it eventually would… she set in motion her foolproof plan. ~~***~~ Applejack looked down, frowning in confusion. She looked up to her side, catching Rainbow’s eye. Her friend was just as confused as she was. Her brows furrowed together, she turned to her other side, making eye contact with a mildly puzzled Pinkie Pie. All three were standing around the object of their confusion, looking down towards it with frowns and cocked heads. “Uh… Bumblebee?” Rainbow ventured carefully. “Helloooo?” Nothing. All three stared down at the floor – towards a perfectly prone changeling drone, lying on her back. Her legs were curled against her chest like a dead spider, her tongue lolling over her cheek. Bumblebee didn’t twitch, nor did she make a noise of any kind. She just laid there, apparently as dead as a doornail. In theory. “Bumblebee, we know you’re alive,” Applejack pointed out. “No you don’t.” Applejack rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Y’all just spoke.” Silence followed that. Applejack glanced towards Rainbow, who only shrugged, completely at a loss. “Look, we ain’t mad at ya,” Applejack went on. “We just want some kind of an explanation, that’s all.” … “And playin’ dead ain’t gonna convince us ta go away,” she pointed out. Bumblebee remained on her back, legs in the air, mouth agape and tongue flopped out. Applejack waited a few seconds longer, waiting for the silly drone to come to her senses. When she didn’t, Applejack heaved a sad sigh. “Alright, Bumblebee… Ya leave me no choice.” Secretly, Bumblebee tensed. No matter the torture, no matter the pain inflicted upon her, she would not budge, not even for Applejack. Applejack looked up grimly, glancing towards Pinkie. “Ya know what ta do,” she said. Pinkie broke into a smile. “Okie dokie lokie,” she sang, then stepped closer towards the lifeless mare. Bumblebee did not react. She was calm… she was serene. Right up until Pinkie leaned back, inhaled deeply, lunged… and blew a loud, wet raspberry right on her exposed belly. The resulting squeal could be heard for miles. Hysterical, Bumblebee tried to squirm out from the pink devil’s grip. But she was persistent – and strong. She would lean back, pause, then unexpectedly lunge again, soliciting another shriek from her. “N-n-nooooo!” wailed Bumblebee around uncontrollable giggles. “S-stop i- Ah! Stop it! P-p-please!” “Would you look at that,” Rainbow teased, cocking a grin. “it’s a miracle.” “Alright, Pinkie,” Applejack said, waving a holey hoof. “Y’all can stop now.” With one last blow, Pinkie brought Bumblebee to further hysterics before leaning back, grinning, eyes dancing with mirth. Bumblebee lay in a heap, panting fitfully. “I… I’ll talk,” she wheezed, “Just p-please… please don’t do that anymore…” “There,” Applejack said, sitting down. “That wasn't so hard, now, was it?” Bumblebee didn’t answer. She just continued to try to catch her breath. A short ways away, Nana continued her rocking, smiling idly at the sounds of these children playing. Agave watched from the kitchenette, quiet and unobtrusive as she observed the entire ludicrous scene, from the moment Bumblebee had keeled over to right then. After a moment, Bumblebee worked her way up into a sitting position, looking utterly dejected. “That… that was supposed to work…” “How?” questioned Rainbow, raising an eyebrow. “I-I don’t know,” Bumblebee whined. “No pony was supposed to find out! Oh, I’m going to be in so much trouble…!” “Hold on there,” Applejack said, raising a pacifying hoof. “We don’t even know what the problem is.” “You don’t understand,” complained Bumblebee. She looked like she was on the verge of tears as she raised her hooves and started knocking herself on the head. “He’s going to be so mad…” “Who is,” Rainbow asked, losing her patience. Bumblebee hid behind her hooves, peering out through the holes. “The… the Spymaster,” she whispered. “He’s going to be so mad at me…” “Why?” Applejack asked. “Bumblebee, just calm down. Everythin’s goin’ ta be just fine.” Bumblebee shook, sniffed, and started rocking slightly. “I don’t know,” she mumbled. “I don’t know anything. But the Spymaster made me promise to keep it secret. Really, really promise… I grew up in Queen Carnation’s hive, but… but I was never from there. That’s all I know, I swear!” “Why?” Rainbow asked. “I don’t know,” Bumblebee whined. “I was too young. But he didn’t want anyone finding out… He was afraid the Court might find out and come looking for us.” Applejack exchanged a look with Rainbow, then glanced back towards Bumblebee. She took a step closer, and gently put her hoof on Bumblebee’s shoulder. The miserable drone tensed, becoming motionless. “It’s alright, Bumblebee,” Applejack promised, her voice soft and placating. She gave Bumblebee a smile when the drone peeked up at her. “Just take a deep breath. There ya go. Now… start from the beginnin’.” Bumblebee gulped a few times, focusing on her breathing. It seemed to do her some good; she calmed down markedly, but there was still a tremble running through her. “Alright,” Applejack started slowly. “Now… Ya must’ve come from somewhere. Did yer ma come with Carnation from the south?” Applejack did not expect the small shake of Bumblebee’s head. “No…,” Bumblebee mumbled. “I grew up in Carnation’s hive, and Mom was gone a lot. Sometimes, she would take me to Canterlot, to this big house with lots and lots of rooms… But we never stayed long. She… she said it was no place for a foal.” Something about Bumblebee’s explanation struck Applejack as being very, very odd. It wasn't what she was describing, but rather a single choice of word that caught her attention. Changelings took care of their young very diligently, yes… but there was never any one parent figure for one hatchling. Only the Equestrian drones lived full time with their own offspring. For everyone else, a hatchling was everyone’s hatchling, looked after by the whole instead of the individual. There were no family ties; only the connection to a hive. And yet… Bumblebee had said ‘Mom’. No drone ever used that word. And yet Bumblebee had. Somehow, a maternal drone caring for her young seemed very unusual from what Applejack had come to expect. Applejack was so busy puzzling she nearly didn’t catch Bumblebee’s next words. “That’s all I know, really, but the Spymaster really, really doesn’t want anypony to know,” she said while sounding like she was bordering on hysterics all over again. Applejack frowned, thinking hard. “Does that mean he’s like ya?” Bumblebee nodded. “There are… a few of us,” she mumbled. “When… When Freedom was abandoned, the older ones kept as many of us together as they could, here in Equestria. That’s when I learned I was… different.” Bumblebee chewed her lip. “I’ve… I’ve been trying to keep my distance all my life… I was afraid I’d slip… The Spymaster doesn’t want the other hives to know. Definitely not the Court. And… and he doesn’t know if you’ll end up just like them or not, so…” She gulped, staring down at her hooves. “So… he made us promise not to tell you… until we knew for sure you wouldn’t be like them.” Applejack looked down at Bumblebee, too busy processing information to say anything. Bumblebee was never from her hive… and yet she’d grown up there. Unless she was missing something, that almost sounded like… “Ah, so you are a queenless,” Nana croaked. There was a note of understanding in her voice now – as well as sympathy. “I can detect many scents on you… some sweet, some bitter… Hmm… I wonder…” Nana’s brow furrowed for the first time, thin wrinkles forming across her papery forehead. “Spymaster… Spymaster… hmm… I know that name…” Applejack turned towards Nana then. “Ya do?” Nana nodded, still looking rather troubled. “Her Highness has been conspiring with some rather strange folks of late. She’s called away from the hive at all hours, day or night, and she does not return for days. It isn’t my place to judge, of course, but poor Applejack misses her mama so…” Applejack fought down the lump in her throat. “But that name…,” Nana went on, idly tapping the armrest of her rocker as she pondered. “Oh, I am sure I’ve heard that name before. I could have sworn… Bah. The old thinker isn’t what it used to be.” She gave a sad chuckle. “Maybe Hyacinth left a clue with some of her old things.” Applejack jolted, swiftly turning her focus back onto Nana. “Hyacinth’s old things?” Nana nodded, and slowly began the arduous task of lowering herself out of her rocker. “Indeed, dearie. She was very careful to keep one thing safe in particular.” She beckoned the group over while Applejack fought to keep her expression neutral. “Come, come. I’m sure it’s around here somewhere…” Then she abruptly paused. “Did I leave the cookies in the oven again?” ~~***~~ From his perch, Antlion surveyed the steamy mire from under his hood. The heat was smothering, choking even, but he powered through it. Instead, he focused on remaining motionless on the underside of a heavy tree branch. From here, a sheet of hanging moss hid him perfectly from sight, but the many breaks and openings gave him perfect lines of sight across the upside down mire in front of him. He’d watched silently as Applejack and her friends made their way across the glade, and then disappeared into the hut at its center. So, now he was settling down for a good, long bout of surveillance. Somewhere off to his right, a ‘frog’ chimed an all clear. Other such calls regularly colored the air every few seconds, keeping him up to date with just a few trill notes. No pony would notice if they heard, and that was the idea. To them and any untrained ear, it was just the sounds of a marshland. To Antlion, it was a code broadcasted by a cadre of drones strategically placed throughout the mire all around. A part of him was mildly impressed that Bumblebee had picked up on their warning back on the trail. For a mare of her… disposition… she’d reacted flawlessly in getting Applejack out of harm’s way before he’d had to do it himself. And now… His eyes returned to the hut in the middle of the mire, his gaze lingering for some time. The branch he was on unexpectedly quivered as it took more weight. Stealthy hooves whispered over the top side, until they came to a stop directly above Antlion’s position. “Sir,” whispered a soft, soft voice. He knew better than to look. All he’d see would be empty air, anyway. But at least he recognized the voice. “We’re in position around the hut,” reported the drone. “All avenues of approach are covered.” Antlion didn’t react for a moment. “That took too long,” he scolded. “My apologies, sir. With the unknown changelings in the area and the creature nearby, I ordered them to move with all due caution. I take full responsibility for the delay.” Antlion suppressed a sigh. He was a good lad. Inexperienced, just like the rest of them… but good nonetheless. He made a mental note for further stealth drills in the future, but otherwise, he let it drop. For now. “Have the hunting parties found anything yet?” Antlion inquired. “Nothing yet,” replied the other. “The trail disappeared fifty yards from the path; we think they took to the trees. I don’t think we tipped them off… but if they’re hunting Her Highness, undoubtedly they’re expecting some sort of entourage; they’ll be on guard, and in numbers.” Antlion nodded to himself. That was to be expected. Well, as long as those drones continued under that assumption and kept their distance, Her Highness’ little excursion would continue on without further incident. Still… Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. He found himself staring at the hut again, watching it pensively. Uncharacteristically, he found his mind wandering off course slightly; a question bubbled up from the back of his mind. Hyacinth… What did you hide here? He had been idly pondering it for some time. Would it be something heavy, or large? That would require more drones to carry; not an inconspicuous way to travel. Was it the answer Applejack sought, or just a clue? If it was that second option, he’d have to prepare for more trips into whatever Maker-forsaken pit she poked her nose into. And if the narrow time frame hanging over her got to her, she’d get hasty and make mistakes… “Sir?” Antlion snapped back to reality. “Speak.” “Why did you allow Bumblebee to remain with Her Highness? Surely she’d only be a liability.” Antlion pursed his lips, taking a moment to answer. “Somehow… I suspect that that is exactly what Hyacinth was banking on.” “Sir?” Antlion shook his head. “If it had not been her accompanying Her Highness into that place, it would have been me, or any one of us. Hyacinth had enough sense to know we would not let her wander far, unguarded.” He paused, his eyes catching motion in one of the windows. A curtain moved, drawing shut just a little more. When nothing further happened, he relaxed. “At any rate, it seems our purpose in following Her Highness has just been simplified for us.” He heard the changeling above him shifting, perhaps trying to catch a glimpse of him below. “Why do you say that?” Antlion’s eyes gleamed through the matts of moss, fixated on the hut itself. “Because I’m starting to suspect I know what – or who – Hyacinth tucked away out here.” “You do?” asked the other, sounding perplexed. Antlion’s eyes only narrowed slightly. Yes… the signs were there. For one thing, Hyacinth despised the color yellow… He stared at the bright, canary yellow cottage as if he could see straight through it to what was going on beyond. “Send the message to the Spymaster,” he grunted. “Which one?” “You know the one.” There was a significant pause following that, like the drone was in shock. Antlion was about to snap at the greenhorn… when the croaking stopped. He tensed, his head whipping around in the direction of the sudden silence; fifty feet from his left, on the very edge of the mire. ~~***~~ “Focus, Nana,” Applejack said at last, taking a step closer. She was used to dealing with elderly ponies, her family being chock full of them. But even she had her limits. The wizened drone turned in her direction, a questioning look on her face. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said, sounding slightly puzzled. “Did I forget something again?” Applejack immediately softened. She knew it wasn’t Nana’s fault things kept slipping through the cracks, and getting angry at her wouldn’t solve anything. She reminded herself that, and her temper cooled. “Ya were tellin’ us about Hyacinth’s things,” she said, all the while trying to keep the urgency in her voice to a minimum. “Do ya know where they are?” Nana thought for a moment before her expression became slightly troubled. “I suppose… But dearie, those things are not to be touched unless it is an emergency.” “Trust me,” Applejack said. “It is.” Nana blinked at her. She started to open her mouth… then paused. It was as if, in that moment, something in her wizened old brain clicked back on. The contented, oblivious look on her face cracked as some small understanding penetrated her mind, and when she looked at Applejack, she had a look in her half-blind eyes like she actually grasped who she was looking. Her expression spasmed slightly as a look of true worry took form on her face, making her sunken and ancient features look only older. “…Oh,” she said quietly, her smile gone. “Oh I… I see.” Her eyes struggled to focus through the mercurial blurs and blotches muddling her vision… but through the darkness and fuzzy shapes, she could have sworn she saw two amber eyes, right in front of hers, and the face they belonged to. If only for a moment… “Nana?” Applejack asked quietly. “Can ya show us where it is?” Nana jolted slightly, returning to her senses. “Oh! Oh, uh… yes. Yes, of course. Right… right this way.” ~~***~~ As silently as a pair of ghosts, two armor-clad stallions crept through the underbrush of the mire. They were careful to avoid putting their hooves on anything crunchy or noisy, but with the sogginess of the forest floor, care was barely an issue. But as they approached the clearing – where the stench of stagnant water was strongest – they paused, remaining in the shadow of the trees. One turned to the other, who had his head up while he scented the air. “They came through here,” he stated. “Three… four of them. The trail is still fresh.” “It’s a miracle you can track anything through this reeking swamp,” another stallion griped, sliding up beside the other two. “I don’t think I’ll ever get this stench out of my nose.” “Quiet, both of you,” the first said in a clipped tone. “Keep your voices down. There’s no telling who’s listening.” The second glanced around warily, eyes up towards the hanging canopies over their heads. Nothing stirred, but he wasn't expecting it to be that easy. “Then we’d best do this quick,” the second muttered. “Fast and quiet.” “The Royal Guard won’t be far behind us,” the third said, casting a glance over his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with and be long gone before –” That was precisely the moment Antlion fell on his head with a crunch. ~~***~~ Applejack followed behind a slow-moving Nana as she stiffly shuffled into her bedroom. ‘Bedroom’ might have been too generous a word for it. The space was miserably small – hardly bigger than a walk-in closet. And yet, Nana had made the most of it. The walls were covered in merry flower print wallpaper; green backdrop behind vertically climbing rows of vines covered in white flowers. The bed was covered in a matching green comforter, while the frame and petite dresser standing in opposite corners were stark white. Along one wall, a window sat open, a light breeze toying at frilly white curtains. It still didn’t hide the fact that hardly more than two ponies could even fit in the space, forcing Rainbow, Bumblebee and Agave to wait outside – much to Rainbow’s chagrin. Nana shambled her way towards the bed – a tiny little thing, despite taking up the majority of the space in the whole room. “Hyacinth told me something like this might happen,” Nana said, solemn for the first time. “She rarely kept anything important for long. Most everything she found, she committed to memory and destroyed.” Applejack looked up, a bad feeling in her chest. “Why would she do that?” Nana slowly turned around. She was too stiff to look over her shoulder very far, so she ended up turning almost ninety degrees just to look in Applejack’s direction. “I… don’t know,” she admitted, looking mildly distressed at that fact. “She was always so very careful. Hyacinth always seemed convinced that somepony – or someone – was following her. she constantly worried about things falling into the wrong hooves, especially when it came to your mother... or you, I suppose.” Nana shook her head, turning back around to continue shambling towards the head of the bed. “She made me promise to look after everything she did not have destroyed. And to make sure only you received it.” Nana paused. “I… I think? No, no there was something…” Applejack panicked inside. If Nana forgot again, it could be hours before they ever got to this point again. She knew she didn’t have that time to waste, not with the Guard and the Court close on their heels. She was interrupted by a shout from just the other side of the doorframe. “What’s she saying?” Rainbow hollered. “Have you found it yet? What’s taking you guys so long?” Applejack chose – or rather forced herself – to ignore the impatient pegasus and refocused urgently on Nana, who still looked torn. “Where did Hyacinth hide her things?” she pressed. “Please, Nana. It’s real important.” Nana glanced up at her, and for one terrifying moment, Applejack thought she’d lost her to her senility again. The look she got was blank, almost surprised. But then her mouth tightened, and pulled up slightly in a thin smile. “Right here, dearie,” she said, and with one hoof she gestured towards the bed. Specifically, right at its base, where a patchwork quilt touched the floor. "Kept it nice and safe just for you." “What’s she pointing at?” Rainbow called in. “I bet it’s like some kind of secret door, huh? I’m totally right, aren’t I?” “Would ya mind keepin’ it down?” Applejack snapped irritably over her shoulder. “And no, it’s just the bed, sugarcube.” “Oh… Is there a secret door under the bed?” “There ain’t no secret doors!” she shouted back, paused, then looked towards Nana. “Are there?” Nana shook her head. “No, dearie, not this time.” She made to squat down, but… well, her joints were having none of it. For the amount of flexibility her knees had left in them, one would think they’d been filled with hardened rubber. Pain was evident on her face every time she tried, but she hardly got farther down than a slouch. “Be a dear and bring it out for me, will you?” Nana requested, eyeing Applejack with a look akin to an apology of some kind. “These old bones just can't quite make it.” Applejack was only too happy to oblige. She swiftly moved up and crouched down, eying the dark recess beneath Nana’s bed. There was something there; a square, box-shaped something, neatly tucked away just barely out of sight behind the cascading bedspread. It wasn’t much of a hiding spot, all things considered, and Applejack couldn’t help but think what Hyacinth would say about having her carefully guarded secret being stowed away in the first place anypony would think to look. But she brushed it off; there were more pressing things to deal with. After pulling up the quilt to get a better look at it, Applejack noticed two things immediately. Firstly, it was made entirely out of rich brown wood the likes of which was reserved for only the wealthiest of owners, standing in stark contrast to the lived-in wear of the cottage. It had been polished and lacquered to perfection, to the point that Applejack could almost see the details of her own amber eyes looking back at her. Secondly, her eyes immediately fell on a brass grip embedded into its side that gleamed even in the low light. Quickly she reached out, took hold of the fixture, and pulled. The object was heavy, much heavier than Applejack was expecting it to be, given its size. It must have weighed almost as much as her younger sister despite only being the size of a shoebox. Grunting, she pulled hard, and with a slight rasp of wood on wood, Hyacinth’s secret cache was pulled out into the open light, probably for the first time in many, many years. It was a strange, rectangular box constructed entirely of a wood Applejack had only seen a few times before. The metallic silver sheen in the gain gave it away; ironwood. That would certainly explain the weight the thing had; the name wasn't just for show. Clearly Hyacinth had been serious about keeping whatever was inside safe. Would-be thieves would have an easier time cutting into a bank vault. Each short end was fitted with a brass grip. There were no screws or nails, leading Applejack to believe it was being held in place by some kind of resin. But there was something very, very wrong with the box, something Applejack immediately noticed and summarily quashed the building excitement inside her. The box had no lid. More precisely, there was no seam that would give away a lid. No hinges, no lock or latch… nothing. Just a uniform block of wood with grips on either end. Applejack quickly glanced towards Nana, who was looking in her general direction with a mild, oblivious smile once more, as if everything should be crystal clear now. “Uh, Nana,” Applejack said slowly, “Is this… whatchamacallit supposed ta open?” Confusingly, Nana nodded, a knowing grin on her face. “Yes, dearie. But Hyacinth never told me how. She seemed confident you’d know how to get in at whatever it was she left you.” Applejack frowned. Now it was making more sense why this thing was left in such an exposed place. But it hardly made her feel better. She sat down, at a complete loss all over again. “How in Equestria am Ah supposed ta do that?” Nana cackled, flashing her gums. “You’ll figure it out,” Nana said knowingly. “You just need to use your head.” ~~***~~ With a grunt, Antlion threw a stallion clean off his hooves and head-first into an unhealthily sturdy tree with a solid thud, making it quiver. There his victim stayed, propped up around the head by a knothole while the rest of his armored body collapsed limply against the trunk. “Sloppy,” Antlion growled in disappointment. “Even the Guard knows how to fight better than this.” He rounded on the other two – who were all lying in various poses of anguish on the floor. Five cloaked changelings stood around them, teeth bared and horns crackling threateningly. Antlion hadn’t needed to engage the third at all. But sometimes, actions spoke louder than any threat could. And he’d spoken plenty loud already. And would you look at that; the other captives were behaving themselves now. The two stallions glared daggers at him, but it was somewhat difficult to appear defiant with their hooves clasped together in glassy green restraints. “What should we do with them?” one of the cloaked drones asked, eying their captives like they were squirming maggots. “Dispel the peons, leave them where the Guard will find them,” Antlion said dismissively. “It will give Steel Shod something to chew on for a while.” That made the prisoners satisfyingly pale. “And that one?” asked a different drone, jerking his head towards the unconscious stallion currently wearing a tree on his face. Antlion glanced towards him, his expression unchanged. “Keep the leader.” Antlion was just turning back around when he heard a spiteful chuckling. “Leader? Him?” one of the stallions taunted. “He’s just like the rest of us.” Antlion raised an eyebrow as he sighted down his nose at the captive. “And that would be?” The stallion flashed a sinister grin, as the forest went dead quiet again. “A distraction.” Croaking alarms went off all around, from every direction. Cloaked changelings raised their heads, hissing warnings. Antlion, however, remained unmoved. He slowly trotted closer, the two captured imposters staring up with contemptuous grins as he closed the distance, and leaned down towards them. “No, you’re not,” Antlion said bluntly. “You’re bait.” The imposters’ eyes widened hugely as the trees all around them began to shake and shudder with activity as the rest of Applejack’s entourage made their presence known. ~~***~~ As the trees and bushes came alive with activity, no one noticed the surface of the mire churn irritably. A huge lily pad rose off the surface of the water only a few bare inches; just far enough for a pair of yellow reptilian eyes to peer into the distance at the commotion. The barest flicker of a jet black tongue – soundless and stealthy. It scented the air, curious… but more than a little grumpy. Such noisy, inconsiderate pests making such a racket. A familiar smell was on the air. Very familiar. It knew that smell. It smelled of pain and lancing fire. It smelled of lessons, the black thing that sometimes wasn’t black. No wait… these were different. Similar, but different. Not painful black thing with lancing fire, but… similar. Like the deer that wasn’t the deer it had just eaten; similar… but not the same. Curious… Black thing with lancing fire had its respect, if only begrudgingly. It was a worthy adversary. These ones… they had not earned the same. And it hated little black things. Tasted of crunchy sour, burned all the way down the throat and back out again. Nasty… painful as food, too. But it didn’t like having its nap disturbed. Now it knew it was hungry again… and it didn’t like being hungry even more than little black things. And it hated little black things… Without a sound, it slipped back beneath the surface, leaving the mire deathly still without a ripple out of place. It knew how to deal with things it hated. ~~***~~ Applejack stared blankly at the box, resisting the urge to pace. She’d only get a step in either direction, anyway. It figures that Hyacinth would put some kind of protection around whatever she was keeping hidden; Nana wasn’t much of a protector if push came to shove. Still, a hint would have been nice. Applejack let Nana hobble past her without tearing her eyes away from the box. She thought Nana said something, but she was too preoccupied to notice. If Applejack was honest with herself – and she usually was – she knew that thinking things through wasn’t one of her strong-suits. She was too practical and straight-forward – the exact opposite of how changelings thought, she was coming to learn. Case in point; the first idea to occur to her was to find a saw and cut her way through the dang thing, which was summarily dismissed. She didn’t feel like wasting a saw in the endeavor, and she’d probably need several dozen to even scratch the box’s finish. Forcing her way in was out of the question. There had to be another, perhaps magical solution. It was the only logical thing she could think of, though Applejack was constantly worrying that she wasn’t thinking broadly enough. If only Twilight were here... If Hyacinth had set up some kind of defense against other changelings, the solution would either be so convoluted she’d never get it, or so painfully simple she’d never get it. Either way, sitting on her butt trying to do the mental equivalent of solving a rubix cube just wasn’t the way to go. That was Twilight’s deal, not her’s. But there was something Applejack knew that did give her some hope. Hyacinth had kept this safe for her. If another soul in Equestria knew what Applejack was and wasn’t capable of, it was Hyacinth. So with that in mind, she must have designed some way for Applejack to get inside the box that only Applejack was capable of. She must have. She just had to think of it. But short of kicking the dang thing from here to Canterlot, Applejack was at a loss. She could try applying her magic to it… “Uh… what’re you doing?” Applejack jumped, then whirled around. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t even noticed the pegasus feathers brushing against her side. Rainbow was seated next to her like she’d been there all along, eyes on the peculiar box. “This it?” “Sure looks that way,” Applejack grunted, getting over her shock. Rainbow cocked her head, clearly looking disappointed. “Huh… I was kinda picturing something… cooler. Not that a block of wood isn’t… uh… neat, I guess…” Rainbow turned towards Applejack, looking questioning. “I’m missing something, right? Tell me I’m missing something, cuz that looks an awful lot like a block with handles.” Applejack frowned at the thing. “Sure looks that way ta me, sugarcube. But Hyacinth had it hidden for a reason, so there must be more to it. It’s gotta open somehow; we just gotta find the right trick.” Silence reigned for a time. Both mares just stared at the box, letting the seconds tick by. “… You’re out of ideas, huh?” Rainbow asked, which only served to irritate Applejack more. “No, Ah ain’t,” Applejack snapped defensively, “Just… runnin’ low on inspiration.” Rainbow glanced at her, then back at the box. “Here, let me try.” Applejack merely grunted and gestured; ‘have at it’. With that nonverbal signal, Rainbow picked herself up and moved forward, frowning at the box. Applejack was hardly hopeful. Rainbow was many things, but her capacity as a problem solver was, decidedly, limited. If she couldn’t out-fly, out-punch or out-buck her way through a situation, there probably wasn’t much else she could bring to the plate. For her part, Rainbow approached the problem seriously. She moved closer, taking in the object’s dimensions carefully. She tugged on one of the handles, tried to lift one in every direction she could think of. She inspected it all over, not taking anything to chance. Applejack had to fight back a smirk. She could practically hear Rainbow thinking to herself; what would Daring Do do? But ultimately, when everything else failed, she resorted to the tried and true method; she raised one hoof, and smacked it down on top of the box. Two things happened in rapid succession the instant her hoof touched the wood. The moment she made contact, Rainbow suddenly let out a startled yowl, her body tensing so hard it spasmed as every muscle went rigid. Second, and almost lost to Applejack, came the faintest, most delicate click. “Rainbow!” Applejack gasped, jumping up in alarm. Rainbow’s eyes were wide open, her teeth gnashed together. Her only response was a strained whine. “Get… it… off…!” Applejack shot forward, slamming her hooves against Rainbow’s side in a desperate attempt to get the pegasus away from whatever trap she’d triggered. She was a millimeter away when all of a sudden Rainbow jerked back. Her wings flared open in an instinctive attempt to get away. A split second later, they were toppling to the floor in a heap. “Ow ow ow,” Rainbow hissed. Her body was unusually hot against Applejack’s skin, and there was the strangest smell of ozone in the air. She trembled and shook, the hoof she’d used to strike the box worst of all. Static tickled at Applejack’s hide, like Rainbow’s fur had become charged with something that wasn’t actually electrical. “Rainbow! Are ya alright?” Applejack said hastily, jumping up. Rainbow was shuddering fitfully, blinking over and over as she tried to catch her breath. Her mouth worked for a second, she blinked hard, then her expression snarled up in pain. “Y-yeah… n-never better, cowgirl. I do this all the… all the time. Just... another day being awesome...” Applejack sighed, nearly falling over from the force of her relief. “Landsakes… don’t scare me like that.” Rainbow sat up with some difficulty, rubbing her hoof tenderly. It didn’t seem to be injured in any way; there wasn’t a single hair out of place. Applejack had been sure to check and double check, but it didn’t seem to be hurt. Yet Rainbow kept rubbing it like she’d jarred a nerve. “I don’t know what that was, but let’s not do that again,” Rainbow said, still grimacing. “Feels like my foreleg’s gone numb or something…” Applejack scanned her up and down, her hoof still hovering around Rainbow’s shoulder. “Ya sure ya’ll be alright?” Rainbow gave her a look, flashing an unauthentic smile. “You ain’t losing me that easy, AJ.” Applejack sighed, plopping down next to her. The tension ran out of her as she sagged. All she paid attention to was the sensation of warm feather tips moving lightly against her side. “So, I’m going to assume that didn’t work,” Rainbow grumbled sourly, stilling ringing out her hoof. “’Fraid not, sugarcube,” Applejack said glumly, looked up… and stared. “Okay, so, no hitting it,” Rainbow said, looking down thoughtfully. “There must be something… Uh, Applejack?” Rainbow had just looked up and noticed Applejack staring off to one side with an unusually wide-eyed stare. Confused, she followed her gaze – and quickly discovered why. What had once been a featureless wooden square now had an ornate black latch, and a very obvious metallic border that ran its length; the lip of a lid. Black curls of smoke still hung in the air. Emerald sparks crackled along its surface weakly, emitting the last few sparks of a waning spell. Singed into the wood right over the lock itself was a sigil that still sizzled, as if freshly scorched. Much of the detailing was lost in the burn marks, but Applejack thought she could just make out two sweeping shapes that looked a little too much like a pair of unfurled wings. It was that final piece that made it all click in Applejack’s head. Something changelings would not think of, and yet something Applejack herself would have access to… She looked towards Rainbow, who was still massaging her hoof and staring daggers at the smoking footlocker. Whether the key had been pony magic in general, or a more specific kind, one thing was certain. Hyacinth really had thought of everything… Rainbow glanced at Applejack, realized she was gawking at her, and immediately set her hoof down like it no longer so much as tingled. “Uh, yeah… I’ll just go ahead and take credit for that.” She then leaned over slightly in Applejack’s direction. “So… you're welcome.” Applejack rolled her eyes, then turned around. “Come on, sugarcube. Let’s get a look at whatever Hyacinth’s been hidin’ before we go pattin’ ourselves on the back.” ~~***~~ Murmuring Mire had fallen unusually quiet. No birds cawed through the trees, no frogs sang in the reeds. Even the wind had died down, leaving everything motionless and steamy. All at once, a commotion; a tree shuddered, followed by a frenzy of hissing and squealing… then silence. A shadow darted from one patch of bramble to another, hardly making a whisper of sound. Another flickered from one stand of fronds to a hollow log, quick as a flash. Another outbreak of furious spitting and savage snarling. Silence. This is how changelings did battle. No ranks of soldiers, no battle formations or troop maneuvers. No clash of swords or bodies and no battle cries that rang through the trees. It was quiet, subtle and savagely quick, like spiders dueling in the underbrush. It was like a game of hide and seek, only with lethal consequences for the loser. Somepony could wander right through the warzone and never once suspect a thing. Antlion sat poised in his hiding spot beneath heavy curtains of hanging moss, all of his senses keyed for the faintest hint of the enemy. With the wind died down, he didn’t have to worry about his scent giving his position away, but there were other ways to find a changeling hiding in a thicket. He stalked forward, low and menacing as a prowling panther, listening, feeling, and careful not to disturb even the smallest of reaching branches. Magic vibrated in the air. Drones were sending out invisible pulses from every direction, hoping to get lucky and ping off of a would-be ambusher. That is, if the pulses weren’t traced back to their source first and the caster was stupid enough to remain stationary afterwards. Antlion wasn’t concerned of that happening to his comrades. They’d been trained well. They knew what they were doing. He had a good idea of where the proverbial line in the sand had been drawn and could guess with relative confidence where the majority of his troops were. But in the silence, nothing was certain. A commotion overhead. The tree directly above him started shaking violently as one drone pounced on another. One shrieked, obviously trying to get away, but his attacker was already on him. Antlion snapped his head up, looking for a cloak to denote who was winning. Unfortunately, he got more than he was bargaining for when both combatants fell bodily from the tree in a ball of fury. But he didn’t panic or rush to action. Antlion quickly and quietly slipped backwards and looped around the side of a twisted tree before his position could be given away, silent as a shadow. He was waiting. Timing was everything… The two drones continued to brawl on the ground in a tangle of limbs and lashing fangs, a cloak wrapped bodily around them both. Neither was keen on letting the other bring their horn to bear; spells aside, the wicked point on the end would make for a decisive punctuation to the skirmish. Neither let the other go, for fear of letting them gain distance. As soon as one tried to break away and disengage, the other clamped down hard on his hoof and dragged him back, only to catch a flailing hoof to the face which almost dislodged him entirely. There was no finesse in their tactics. They were in too much of a panic to bother. Hooves milled, teeth flashed and wings buzzed angrily. Each was trying to end the battle as quickly as possible, caught between the burning need to end the threat they were confronted with and their instincts screaming at them to get back into hiding before something worse fell on them. Each knew all-too well that they’d undoubtedly attracted way too much attention; attention that was just waiting for a clear shot at either of them. For a changeling combatant, this was the worst-case scenario. Finally, one of the drones flipped over on his back, and bucked his hind legs as hard as he could. Antlion could hear the wind fly out of the other’s lungs as he was launched back a few feet, cloak rippling behind him like a comet tail. Antlion tensed, but he didn’t watch the drone skid once on his shoulder, then come up on all fours. His eyes turned up, just as the leaves over his comrade parted, revealing a fresh set of antagonistic fangs descending upon the cloaked drones unprotected neck. Antlion sprang and plucked the descending changeling right out of the air by slamming his full weight into his side. Both bashed against a tree, but Antlion recovered first. Still in the air, he grabbed the dazed drone’s foreleg, leveraged himself with his wings, and smashed him against another with a sickening crack before falling to the ground and vanishing into the underbrush. Another drone pounced right where Antlion had been… but only found a dopey-eyed frog sitting on an exposed root. The entire exchange took place within seconds, and once more Antlion was slipping back into the shadows, wary of every half-sound he heard. The marsh was silent all over again, leaving no trace of the two combatants. Once more, Antlion settled down once he was confident he’d gotten to a safe distance and scoped out his surroundings with his senses. He couldn't worry himself over the well-being of his comrade just yet, but the question burned at him. Had he managed to fall back to safety? He'd never know until the enemy was driven off. For a moment, Antlion tossed a concerned glance towards the mire. Through the foliage, he could just make out the base of the gigantic mushroom cap. The hut was in no immediate danger. With all the open space between here and there, any drone trying to make a break for it would be shot down before it made it more than a few dozen feet. Some may know how to vanish into thin air, but that wouldn’t hide the sound of their beating wings, and only a fool would try to swim across those murky waters. There was no telling how many more invaders there were to deal with, though, and they showed no signs of weakening. It would take time, possibly several hours even to rout them all. There was no way Queen Applejack would be preoccupied for that long, and no way to get a messenger to her to warn her of the danger, not without exposing his own forces to harm. But what to do… Something snapped overhead. Too late, Antlion looked up, just as not one, but two drones unlatched from the underside of a tree branch and fell towards him, horns leading the way. Antlion tensed, preparing to spring – when something truly massive whirled over his head, missed by the breadth of a baby hair, and cleaved a small grove in two in one brutal, smashing swipe. Of the drones, Antlion would never know. Because at that moment, the air was filled with a deadly, menacing rattling sound, which proved much more worrying. Antlion turned as a fresh wave of alarms went out. All pretenses of battle forgotten, drones were falling back like cockroaches under a light bulb, scuttling for the nearest cover as a terrible, guttural growl rent the air. The changeling captain spotted the source of the rattling – a massive, six-foot-long collection of knobby bones covered in savage serrations, spasming and shaking violently to produce the sound of bone-on-bone. That rattle was attached to a thick, sinuous tail covered in brutish scales caked with mud and the odd protruding stem of unidentifiable foliage. Only the rattler was showing its true color; gold, streaked with jagged lines of glossy black. Something heavy hit the ground, causing Antlion to look around again – just as a powerful forearm blew past him from the other direction. It went right over his head and smashed a tree to splinters, scattering the drones hiding in its boughs. A shadow passed over him as he ducked against the hailstorm of splinters; a massive body undulating through the air before slamming to earth again with a reverberating thud just off to his left. Too late it occurred to Antlion that the attacks weren’t coming randomly. Whatever this creature was, it knew precisely where each and every one of them was. But how? Flick… flick flick… A chill ran up Antlion’s spine as he heard a sound like a whip swishing high overhead. He turned, still crouched down low in the underbrush. Two yellow eyes stared right back as the creature began to growl a death threat right in Antlion’s exposed face. ~~***~~ Cautiously, Applejack approached the chest, eyes watchful. Smoke still hung in the air like a thin haze and filled the bedroom with the faint smell of char. The latch that had appeared looked like some kind of rose carved from two conjoining pieces of glassy black stone not unlike obsidian, only with a striking emerald hue that flashed in direct light. Again her eyes went up to the wing-shaped burn on top, but only for a moment. Carefully, she reached out with a hoof, and after a moment of hesitation, pressed it to the latch. It depressed with another stony click, and the lid came loose. Applejack’s heart was in her throat now. Nerves and emotions swirled in an incomprehensible slurry inside of her, making it exceedingly difficult to maintain a stoic façade. She hesitated, taking a second to steel her trembling nerves, inhaled a fresh lungful of air, and pushed. The top of Hyacinth’s cache slid like the lid of a sarcophagus, producing a grinding sound more like stone-on-stone instead of wood-on-wood. With a surprisingly heavy thud, the lid toppled over onto the floor. And inside, nestled in a red velvet-lined hollow, three objects awaited her. Dominating the cavity inside the box was a rectangular object wrapped in a dirty, tattered grey cloth. It barely fit at all, like it’d been wedged inside rather snuggly. The folds of the threadbare cloth all came together in its center, and was held together by a clasp made of a familiar glassy green substance clearly of changeling origin. At its base, there were two smaller objects; envelopes by the looks of them that were lying face down in the container. One was fat and distended by whatever laid inside it. The other was virtually flat, like it contained nothing at all. Applejack tore her eyes away from the odd assortment, glancing towards Rainbow. She flicked her eyes up towards her in return, expression composed yet expectant. “Well? What is it?” she asked. Applejack looked back down. “Ah… don’t know,” she admitted. She’d been expecting something a little bit… grander, to be honest. But she was far from truly let down; merely thrown off. So many ideas of what to expect, politely thrown out the window with just a single glance. Sensing the impatience of the one sitting next to her, Applejack reached one holey hoof forward and scooped up one of the envelopes – the fatter of the two. She flipped it over – and immediately felt her heart miss a step. On the front was a single, beautifully penned line written in sweeping calligraphy. To: My Daughter Everything went dead quiet to Applejack. She just stared, eyes huge with shock. Rainbow might have said something – her voice registered in the back of Applejack’s head, but she wasn’t paying attention. It was like her hooves were moving on their own. Applejack watched like some kind of spectator as they carefully flipped open the envelope, reached in, and pulled out a single piece of smooth paper as crisp as if it’d just come out of the mill. The same elegant writing covered it, each line precise as if penned by an expert hoof. But for all the expertise exercised in it, Applejack only noticed the words written for her. Dear Applejack, If you are reading this, then I was not the one to pass along my knowledge to you. There is so much I wish I could write to you about, so much you undoubtedly wish to know. But I am afraid that I do not have the lifetime necessary to tell you everything I dearly wish to. But if you have found this letter, then it means that your time is short. But so long as you remain strong, there will always be hope. This I promise you with all my heart. There is something here in Equestria, a power far greater than my cousin Phantasma yet realizes, and likely never will fully grasp. I have seen it for myself, and I know you soon will, too. I had hoped to unlock its secrets myself and save our kind from the darkness that consumes it, but I fear that is not my destiny. It is yours, Applejack. I leave you my diary; the sole record of what I discovered here. It is all I can give you. On the last line, Applejack noticed the jaggedness of the last five words, as if written by hooves that were steadily growing more and more shaky. When the writing picked up again, it was steady once more, but somehow Applejack knew it’d taken her mother some time before she’d started again. Do not be afraid, my dear sweet Applejack. Whatever comes, whatever trials stand before you, remember that you will not be facing them alone. Love, now and always, Mama PS: For the seventeen years I have missed saying it; happy birthday. Applejack read the letter at least three times over, taking in every word, committing it all to memory. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet, but slowly it was; long ago, her mother’s hooves had touched this very piece of paper. She’d never had anything of Carnation’s; only the sad memories shared with her by Hyacinth. But this… This was her hoofwriting. These were her words. And Applejack simply didn’t know what to think. Something warm wrapped around her shoulders. It was amazing how gentle, and how firm feathers could be. “Come on,” said the one sitting next to her softly. “Let’s get out of here.” Applejack didn’t trust herself to speak. She just nodded, and with the utmost care, she folded the letter and replaced it back inside its envelope. But as she did, her hoof encountered something small inside. Confused, she tipped the envelope over, and out fell a large key made of entwined twigs. The end was woven into the shape of a small heart. One corner stuck out like a loose thread, ending with a full sized leaf still vibrant green and full of life, as if the wood was still alive somehow. Applejack immediately recognized the shape of the leaf. She'd recognize it anywhere; the key was made from living apple wood. “What’s that for?” Rainbow inquired, cocking her head to one side. Applejack didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned her attention towards the large, carefully wrapped parcel that dominated the box’s interior. She reached out, and a part of her was pleased at how steady her hooves were. The clip binding the cloth together was pried loose, freeing Applejack to uncover what laid inside. Inside the wrappings was a disconcertingly simple book bound in plain leather. It’s cover was scuffed and scratched and discolored from a myriad of stains, hinting at a long life filled with abuse. The only feature; a bulky clasp made of more ironwood that looked far less worn. Something was carved into the surface of the solid front plate – a complex design Applejack somehow doubted was purely cosmetic. And at its heart was a keyhole. “Guess that answers that question,” Applejack commented. Rainbow glanced at the key, then towards the book, then back to Applejack. The young queen had on her thick skin again, it appeared. She was composed, her expression a mask of stony determination. She looked at the key resting in her hoof, quiet for a long, long time. Then, she tightened her grip around it. Her eyes flashed as she looked up sharply. She tossed the key and envelope straight up into the air, and in a flash, her body burst with emerald light. Rainbow recoiled instinctively as Applejack reappeared a split second later, once more wearing her more familiar orange coat and blonde mane, her crown disguised once more as a Stetson. A moment later, the letter fell back into her hoof, the key dropped neatly into that, and with a swift motion, Applejack lifted her hat and stowed the envelope and its contents away in its brim. “Alright, sugarcube,” Applejack said, standing up. “Let’s get outta here, before them Court pests find us.” “On it,” Rainbow said quickly. She shot forward and scooped up the diary in her hooves. After all, of the two of them, she still had her saddlebags. Rainbow was just starting to turn back around when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. There was another letter placed within the box, she realized, overlooked until then. She turned, about to say something, only to see Applejack’s tail swishing out of the room. Frowning to herself, Rainbow picked it up and turned it over curiously. Right away, she knew this letter wasn’t penned by Carnation. The words scrawled across the front were simple and efficient, and nothing more. To whom it may concern She cocked her head to one side. Another glance was thrown over her shoulder, but by then she really was alone in Nana’s bedroom. She glanced back at the letter, then carefully flipped it open. What could it hurt? Inside was a small piece of paper that contained only a few lines. Stay with her. No matter what happens to Applejack, no matter what she might turn into, never leave her side. She can't succeed without you. Rainbow stared at the letter, blinked, then unceremoniously tossed it back into the box from whence it came. As if she needed to be told what she already intended to do. ~~***~~ Rainbow exited the bedroom to find Bumblebee, Agave and Applejack all grouped up in the cramped living room. Pinkie Pie was still manning the kitchen, but her attention kept flitting towards the nearby window for some reason. “Alright, so here’s the plan,” Applejack was saying. “Bumblebee, do ya think y’all can get us to the district from here?” Bumblebee gave her a very dubious look. “Not in one tunnel spell. But… but I think I can, if we go in groups.” Applejack smiled. “I know ya can. Ya got more talent with that sort of magic than most everyone Ah know. I know it ain’t gonna be easy, but if Ah didn’t think y’all could do it, I wouldn’t have asked.” Bumblebee lowered her head, scarlet clashing with her black chitin. “O-o-oh dear, um… thank you. Oh, and maybe we should bring Nana with us?” she offered. “She really shouldn’t be staying out here by herself. Just a thought.” “Nonsense,” Nana chimed in, once more rocking in her chair. “I’m doing just fine here, dearie. Why, Hyacinth was just in the other day. Something about a wedding in Canterlot.” Bumblebee gave Applejack an apprehensive look. “I’ll talk to her I guess. Oh, a-and about earlier…” “It’s alright, Bumblebee,” Applejack said firmly, offering a smile. “One thing at a time. We’ll talk about it back home.” Bumblebee gave her a relieved smile, nodding. “Okay, then…” “Um, girls?” called Pinkie all of a sudden, “We may have a teensy, weensy, itty bitty problem.” Everyone turned and found her squishing her face up against the glass of the window while standing on the counter. “Not now Pinkie,” Rainbow shot. “We’re kinda in the middle of something.” “You sure?” Pinkie asked. There was something in her voice, something that caught Applejack’s attention. Rainbow didn’t seem to notice. She just rolled her eyes, turning back to Applejack. “Positive.” And that was the exact moment when the whole cottage shook with the force of a tremendous roar. “… How about now?” Pinkie squeaked. Rainbow stared wide eyed over her shoulder, then slowly turned back towards Applejack. “Um… we may have a problem,” she reported. ~~***~~ The whole forest was filled with noisy, pestering black things. It could smell them, thinking they were being sneaky like the black things always did. But they were not the black thing with the lancing fire. These were stupid black things. It kept finding them, but every time it smashed away their hiding spots, they just scurried off to new ones, and it would find them again. It would be amusing, but it wasn’t in the mood. And they had the lancing fire, too. Green, painful, not like normal fire, no no. This was bad fire that hurt down to the bone like teeth, but left no marks. It didn’t like that fire. It made it so mad. But the black thing with the long second skin… so annoying, so slippery. He kept coming back, jabbing the pain fire at it, then running away. So very infuriating. It chased him for a while, but he was so slippery. It could have sworn it had him that time, but when it checked its claws, they were empty. Always empty. Such a slippery little black thing… But then it realized what the sneaky little black thing was doing! It turned around, and sure enough, the water was so far away now. They were trying to get it to leave! They ALL were! No, no, this would not stand! It twisted itself back around, doubling up on itself before surging back the way it’d come, back towards the annoying, thieving black things. It tore back through the forest, thundering and shrieking its ire the whole way. ~~***~~ Antlion panted and wheezed, but he could only watch helplessly as the titanic form barreled away from him, toppling full sized trees like dominoes. He had to keep it distracted while everyone retreated to safety; they weren’t outfitted to deal with a threat of that magnitude. They had to get Queen Applejack away from that thing, but he needed more time! Antlion tried to turn, but pain shot through him. Stars popped in front of his eyes as his foreleg clinked like glass against the stump beneath him. He could barely walk – could barely see straight through the pain – but he refused to cave. Queen Applejack was still out there, directly in the path of the rampaging beast. And Antlion still had two perfectly good wings and zero excuses not to use them. ~~***~~ Rainbow, Pinkie Pie, Applejack and Bumblebee all crowded around the window in Nana’s living room while Agave peeked over their shoulders. Each peered through the grimy glass, looking for anything that might have been the owner of that terrific roar. So far, they were finding nothing. But there were a lot of panicked birds abandoning roosts in the distance. “What the hay was that?” Rainbow asked aloud. “Oh pay her no mind,” placated Nana from somewhere behind them. “That’s only Belle. She must be making a fuss because Hyacinth hasn’t been around to play with her in a while.” Rainbow and Applejack exchanged a horrified look. “Belle?” Rainbow repeated in sheer disbelief. “Why yes, dearie,” Nana said, smiling kindly from her rocking chair. “Hyacinth has me look after her while she’s gone. The two of them would play for hours outside sometimes. She must be feeling lonely, that’s all.” Nana looked up towards the window, squinting as if she was trying to see out it. “She keeps me safe here, you know. All those bad folks wandering through Her Highness’s territory these days, feh…” Another trumpeting bellow shook dust from the rafters, followed by what Applejack thought sounded unsettlingly like an explosion of some sort. “Just you wait and see, dearie,” Nana said confidently, “she’ll settle right down in a few moments. She just has to express herself. Come to think of it, she’s been pretty lively for a while now… Must be the heat; she never did like it too much.” Rainbow and Applejack exchanged another look. Somehow, they seriously doubted whatever was raising tartaurus outside wasn’t nearly as benign as Nana made it sound. Even Bumblebee glanced over her shoulder uncomfortably. “Um… Nana, I don’t mean to be… uh, that pony, but… you do know balaur make horrible house pets, right?” “A what?” Rainbow asked. “Of course!” Nana replied, sounding slightly affronted. “That’s why she stays outdoors. She likes the fresh air too much.” “Seriously,” Rainbow griped, starting to lose her temper. “What the hay is a balaur.” She wasn’t looking at Applejack. If she had been, she might have noticed how pale she’d turned. Landsakes… the spittin’ Zecora warned us about, that word Bumblebee was mouthin’… All them crystal trees… why didn’t Ah put two and two together?! “That, sugarcube,” Applejack said, and her tone drew Rainbow’s attention, “is a whole heap of trouble.” Rainbow gauged Applejack carefully. She’d picked up on the tone her friend had used, and Applejack’s expression matched. Applejack straightened up. She wasn’t panicking – not yet. But just by the set of her jaw, Rainbow knew how serious the situation was. “RD, Pinkie, everyone, We’re leavin’ right now.” Rainbow didn’t question her. She only darted around Applejack and went to the window, watchful as a hawk. “Pinkie,” Applejack started. “On it!” Pinkie stated, and immediately made a beeline for the kitchen and the tray of piping hot cookies still cooling on the counter. Roughly two thirds disappeared inexplicably into her mane without a trace. The rest were sacrificed to her hungry belly. “Mission accomplished, sir!” Pinkie reported with a crisp salute, looking dead serious. It involved the preservation of cookies, after all. Applejack blinked, then let it drop. “Uh… good job,” she said awkwardly, then turned towards the other set of eyes watching her apprehensively. “W-what are we going to do?” Agave asked timidly. “Wouldn’t we be safer in here?” Applejack weighed her options for a moment. “Well, we sure as hay didn’t wake up… er… Belle. So that means there’s someone else out there.” Bumblebee’s eyes grew bigger. “The Court’s drones.” “Eeyup,” Applejack said grimly. Belle let out another resounding cry, followed by a distant crash. She was getting closer, fast, and she sounded all kinds of angry. Applejack had never seen a balaur in person before… but she’d heard stories; none of them particularly good. And that one sounded very, very big. “Okay, same plan as before,” Applejack said quickly. She turned towards Bumblebee. “Get Agave, Nana and Pinkie as far from here as ya can and make for the district. We’ll regroup there.” “Oh don’t you worry about me, dearie,” Nana chuckled. “I’m quite comfortable here. But thank you for checking up on me.” “Nana,” Applejack started, then checked herself. Deep breaths, sugarcube, calm down. Now ain’t the time ta be losin’ yer temper… Bumblebee glanced at her, then over her shoulder, then back towards Applejack. “Don’t worry. I’ll talk to her,” she promised again. Applejack nodded. “Alright. If ya get Nana out, the rest of us’ll find Antlion. He's bound ta be around here somewhere, and Ah'm sure he'd be only too happy ta get us ta safety.” "Or," Rainbow offered with a slight edge to her voice, "we could give Sir Roarsalot the beating of its life." Applejack didn't even take a moment to consider that hairbrained option. "Not if ya value all yer limbs," she quipped, "Trust me, sugarcube; an angry balaur makes dragons look like pussycats." She paused, and glanced to one side. “Agave? Yer goin' with Bumblebee first.” Agave frowned at her, even more anxious than before. “But why?” “Because the Court wants ya just as bad as me,” she reminded her. “And Ah ain’t puttin’ no fillies in harm’s way if Ah can help it.” Agave didn’t have anything to say back to that, though she looked less than willing. “Can ya handle it?” Applejack asked, turning back to Bumblebee. She looked dubious, and was nervously nibbling her lip. But she nodded all the same. “Y-yes, Applejack. I’ll… I’ll do my best.” Applejack smiled and clapped her on the shoulder. Bumblebee didn’t seem to know how to process that, so she simply settled on forcing a smile. “Question!” Pinkie suddenly piped up. She even raised her hoof. “And that is?” Applejack asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m staying with you two,” she said simply. Applejack gave her a bizarre look, hesitating. “Uh… Pinkie, that ain’t a question.” “Oh. Uh… I’m staying with you two?” Pinkie tried again, emphasizing the question mark at the end. “Pinkie,” Applejack started to argue. The hut shaking interrupted her. All six of them looked up as, with an explosive crash, the deck outside was pulverized as something enormous coiled its body around the flimsy house’s fungal foundation. “Bumblebee,” Applejack said stiffly, “Any time now.” She could hear the sharp inhale outside like a gale lashing the rickety roof. And then Belle let out a tremendous trumpeting roar from directly over the hut. The concussive force of it shattered every window and made everyone – Nana included – clamp their hooves over their ears as the house shook. It rattled the teeth in Applejack’s mouth. Even after it cut off, the ringing in her ears was deafening. She blinked, shaking her head to try to get rid of the doubles of everything she was seeing. Her vision corrected – just as the walls began to buckle. The lights from outside had disappeared, she realized. Something was pressing up against every window, blotting out the light from outside. The wood in the walls groaned, bowing inward dangerously as if it were being squeezed in a titanic vice. “No! Bad Belle!” Scolded Nana, shouting at the top of her lungs at the ceiling. “Bad! Off! Off!” It didn’t work. A stud in the wall behind Applejack snapped like a twig. Whole timber logs were cracking and splitting as the crushing force cinched tighter. Applejack saw a blur of motion out of the corner of her eye, and turned just as Rainbow struck the door full force with her shoulder. She merely bounced off as if she’d body-slammed a concrete wall. Even the door was developing a crack right across the middle as it bent inward. “Okay, this is bad,” Rainbow grunted after a second attempt. Applejack spun on the spot, watching as every wall cracked and broke as they were constricted tighter and tighter. They were trapped, but she couldn’t just sit there and do nothing! “Bumblebee!” Applejack called urgently. “It’s now or never!” Something snapped in the roof – a loadbearing strut shattering under the force being exerted on it. As a consequence, the roof began to sag. Part of it came down in the kitchen, burying the sink in a pile of crumbling wood and dry rot Applejack tore her eyes off the sight, turning desperately towards Bumblebee. She was standing in place, legs splayed in a bracing stance. Her horn flared as bright as a lantern, burning bright green as she forced every ounce of strength she possessed into it. Her eyes were screwed together, a whine slipping past her clenched fangs. “H-Hang on!” she called as the walls started to fail all around them. Her horn burst brighter, a cry escaping her lips. And then Applejack was falling into a ten foot wide hole that ripped open beneath her with a gush of green fire. Darkness crushed down all around her, squeezing her so tightly it forced the breath right out of her lungs. The pressing blackness was soon accompanied by a stifling silence as the opening above slammed shut – just as the hut imploded. Applejack only caught a glimpse of fractured walls crashing together over her head before it vanished. Then, she was only falling, breathless and struggling for air before – Bang! She was launched back into the open air, tossed like a ragdoll nearly six feet straight up. Cries and screams surrounded her, the world coming back to life all around her. The next thing she knew, she was hitting the soggy ground hard, collapsing instantly. The stench of the mire hit her full force, as did the sweltering heat that a light breeze did little to abate. She was back outside, which was a marked improvement over where she'd been before no matter the environment. But as she sat up, any feeling of relief fell apart just as fast. Because in front of her stretched the open mire – and the massive shape coiled around the mushroom stalk in its middle. It was immense, its body winding and coiling in a spiral around the stalk all the way up, where two broad and powerful forearms gripped the cap, savage talons digging deep into the white flesh of it. A single tightly cinched, muck-covered coil now rested where Nana’s hut once stood. Bits of timber jutted out where the thick body met in the middle before winding up… up… in a massive trunk of a neck hanging high overhead. Belle the balaur let out another trumpeting roar that exploded over the mire like a thunderclap, posturing and slamming her claws against her perch. She left no doubt about whose domain they had so foolishly trespassed in as she displayed her dominance and power for all to see. Then, in one seamless flow of motion, she fell sideways into the mire, twisting and winding like a long line of rollercoaster cars back into the blind depths of the mire, vanishing from side after throwing a spray of muddy water nearly a hundred feet into the air. “Ugh…” Applejack whipped around, half expecting to find something else bearing down on them. Behind her were the rest of the group. Agave was struggling to pull herself out of a bush, her hind legs kicking fitfully at the open air. Pinkie was hanging draped over a branch ten feet up, blinking in utter confusion at the predicament she found herself in. Rainbow was five feet up, her hooves preoccupied with Nana, who looked just as shocked as the rest of them. Though whether she'd yet realized her house had been reduced to kindling was anypony's guess. And on the ground behind her, she found Bumblebee, lying crumpled on the ground with a dazed look in her eyes. All she did was moan, try to right herself, and immediately fell over again. “I… I did it,” she slurred, forcing herself to sit up. She pulled her mouth up into a dopy, drunken smile, but her eyes were so unfocused and bleary it was impossible to tell who she was smiling at, if anyone. Applejack rushed over, catching her just as Bumblebee started to fall again. “S… sorry, Applejack,” Bumblebee mumbled. She looked so apologetic, even as her head lolled limply. “I… I got us as far as I could. Did… did I get everypony? Did I do good?” Applejack gave her a smile. “Better than good, darlin’. Ya did great. We're all safe thanks ta you.” “Great…,” Bumblebee echoed, like she’d never heard the word before. She smiled to herself. “I… I don’t feel so good. Can… Can I go home now? I think I… I think I need to lie down for a little while… All of this adventuring has... really worn me out...” Applejack was opening her mouth to speak when Rainbow swooped down beside her. “Hey! Is Bumblebee okay?” Applejack looked up. “She will be, but we need ta get her out of here, now.” Agave pried herself free with a startled squeak, falling over backwards on her butt. Then she whirled around – and grew very pale. “U-u-um… now sounds good,” she said, her voice shrill. Applejack glanced at her, then turned around. The mire was churning. A wave was rolling across the overgrown surface – a wave that was headed straight for them. “Oh crabapples,” Applejack hissed, then turned her head up. “Any time, Antlion!” They appeared out of nowhere. Drones in cloaks materialized seemingly from thin air, melting out of bushes and foliage without a sound. “Your Highness,” one of them buzzed urgently, “You are in great danger here.” “Ah kinda figured that out myself,” Applejack quipped dryly. “Get everypony out of here. It’s time we beat tracks.” “Of course,” one said, but as he moved towards her, she immediately held up her hoof. “Them first,” she ordered, pointing towards Nana, Bumblebee and Agave. “Your Highness,” one objected, “I must insist –” The ground quaking silenced his objection. All eyes looked up as a huge back broke the surface of the mire, revealing forward-facing hooked spines. But it wasn’t coming straight at them. No, it angled off to the side, boring through mud and muck and uprooting at least a dozen trees as it made landfall. A pair of massive claws propelled it forward, churning the earth as the body began to loop around, encircling the group in a prison nearly twenty feet across. Only, it was getting smaller by the second. Applejack tossed the drone one commanding look. That was all he needed. Emerald gushes of light burst in the dwindling clearing as first Bumblebee was pulled to safety, then a worried-looking Agave, followed a moment later by a still-confused Nana. Ten feet across now. Through the mud caking Belle, Applejack could see the serrated scales jutting up and away from her body. She was like a slithering cheese grater the size of a freight train, and probably just as lethal to anything caught in her way. Applejack had very few options left. Pinkie had just swung down onto the ground in a maneuver that would make any gymnast envious, but now she was trapped along with them in the shrinking circle. The drones were gone, and there was no telling when they'd get back. Rainbow was right beside her, head down, ears flipped back, wings splayed threateningly. She refused to budge from Applejack’s side, and just one look told her no amount of words would convince her otherwise. Six feet. Applejack did the only thing she could think of as a claw brushed dangerously close to Pinkie. Without thinking, she twisted around, cocked her legs like pistol hammers ready to fire, and lunged. ~~***~~ Belle felt the impact on its belly. Not pain-fire like the other black things used. This was something else, a new pain it wasn’t used to. Sharp, powerful. Not fangs or claws but similar. A blow? Yes, something had just struck her. Not with something sharp, but definitely a limb of some kind. The black thing that was pretending not to be a black thing was fighting back. This surprised her very much; most black things just shot pain-fire and ran away. Like the rats when she was but a pup. She hated those rats and their hungry nipping. But she was not a pup, and they weren't as big as the rats were back then. Yet the black thing had struck out at her anyway. This gave her pause. Incredulity and indignation rose in equal measure within her as she came to a halt. ~~***~~ Applejack noticed immediately when Belle came to a standstill the moment her hoof made contact with her side. She knew she hadn’t done anything to it, though. It was like kicking a boulder; under the layer of mud and filth, Belle’s body was iron hard and unyielding. Even Applejack’s experienced bucking legs merely bounced off without shifting the monster’s bulk an inch. But Belle had clearly felt it. She had paused, as if caught off guard by what it had felt. A tense silence pounded in Applejack’s ears as she looked around. And then, to her relief, the coil began to widen. Belle’s massive tail pulled back, knocking aside a fallen tree and sending it flying. But whatever relief she’d felt melted away when a tail tip rose out of the mud and began making the most ominous rattling sound Applejack had ever heard. However, she was not expecting the second one. All three ponies watched as another tail arched through the mud, lifted high over their heads, and started rattling in stereo with its twin. Applejack felt the ground shift off to her right. She, Rainbow and Pinkie all turned as the mud and filth of the mire heaved upwards. Fat globs of soil and muck fell to earth as a great neck pulled itself up higher and higher, until a massive head breached the surface. Two huge yellow eyes stared hatefully back at her from under high-ridged scaly brows as the puffy head of an enormous viper emerged into the open air. Followed by another, and another, and another… Applejack watched, fear gripping her heart as five sets of yellow eyes stared coldly back at her. Five sets of black tongues flicked at the air, scenting it silently. But only a single neck rose to tower over the trio. All five heads were arrayed side by side along the same muscle-bound neck, all along the rim of a gigantic cobra’s hood. Applejack could see five throats, five thick columns of muscle and bone all contained within a tough membrane of skin and scale all uniting around Belle’s powerful shoulders and into a singular length of raw power that could be measured in tons. Belle planted her two claws, oversized spurs digging deep into the soil as she reared up to her full, impressive height, all five sets of eyes staring down with the cold contemplative curiosity of a cat eying three trapped mice that it just couldn’t quite figure out what to do with yet. And of course, Rainbow managed to sum it all up in one word. “…Ponyfeathers…”