Twilight dodged instinctively at the ear-tingling whip whip of arrows slicing through the air to her left and right – too far to be real danger, yet still close enough that she swore she could feel the fletches splitting her coat. Another arrow zipped behind Twilight, this time to clatter against the dragon's hips. A fourth thudded into the packs behind her saddle, to the sound of shattering glass. Twilight winced at the noise, wondering which of her expensive navigation aids she had lost. With her current bad luck it would probably be the sextant. She leaned low over Spike's broad back, dropping his reins and instead grasping the thickly ridged clefts of his armoured hide as it rose to meet his neck.
Given his head the dragon surged forward, his wideset limbs hauling at the anaemic grass and winter-dulled heather, while his claws tore deep divots that flew behind him in vast arcs that traced their path so clearly even a blind tortoise would be able to track them. But then, she'd already been found; stealth and care were the least of her problems.
As she clung to Spike's shoulders, Twilight reflected on the strange, icy thrill of her predicament. Fear was something she had never felt, not in any real sense, since her childhood in Canterlot, where the Imperial School of Magic had trained it out of her, and any vestige they had missed had been driven from her inch by inch as she and her brother scaled the goat tracks and scree slopes of the city's mountainous foundation.
Another arrow snatched at her mane, barely missing her horn. Twilight glanced over her shoulder at the bandits pursuing her; there were three, their dun coats glowing eerily in the pale wintry light as they urged their dragon mounts to the edge of endurance. Each had his ears pinned back, though whether in rage or fear or simple exhilaration, Twilight couldn't tell. One let loose another arrow, though his shot flew wide as his mount jinked to dodge a bush of hawthorn in its path.
Twilight had her own bow, strapped to the saddle by her right leg, and for a moment her hands reached for it; but only a moment. She had barely trained with it except to hunt small game – the rabbit she had caught scant hours earlier lay somewhere behind her now, having shaken loose from her pack only moments after these bandits had begun their pursuit. To try and use it now would be suicidal. Instead she leaned closer to Spike again, and jinked at his reins just enough to draw the beast's attention.
A valley sank into the moorland to the east, turning soon after to a steep-walled ravine as the hills rose around it. Twilight had no idea where it led, but neither did she care; escape was the only thought on her mind and the valley seemed to offer it, after a fashion. She tugged again at the reins, bringing Spike's broad head around to the valley. As if reading her mind the dragon reached forward, his gait switching from his usual cross-legged lope to an uncomfortable bounding that threatened to shake Twilight loose. She dropped the reins again and clung desperately top Spike's back as they leaped down into boulder-strewn ravine, Spike launching from one rocky mound to the next in his eagerness to escape.
When she looked back again, Twilight saw her pursuers had slowed, reluctant to drive their beasts as Spike had driven himself. Instead they were picking their way around the heaped moraine, and for moments here and there taking their eyes from her.
Good, she thought, smiling sourly. Uttering a small prayer to the Sun, Twilight hauled at Spike's reins with one hand, whilst raising the other toward the trio of donkeys trailing in her wake. The one closest to her, perhaps their leader, had stopped entirely and was staring at her, anger and fear mixing across his face. He opened his mouth, but before he could utter a sound Twilight summoned the mass of her power to her horn and stretched her fingers wide. Magic roared from her body, barely controlled energy screeching hollow against the ravine walls in a display that would have earned her a stern lecture about finesse and skill at the School, but which was more than sufficient for her purposes. The magic splashed like liquid sunlight against the cliffs, tearing asunder ancient stone and hurling it down to the valley floor, until the thunder of her magic was matched and then exceeded by the cacophonous tumbling of rock.
Twilight's fingers clamped shut against her palm, silencing her magic. She waited as the last clattering pebbles fell and the dust rose into the silence, and surveyed the towering wall that now crossed the the valley floor.
Smirking, and perhaps a little proud of herself – even though such feelings were supposed to be beneath one of her training – Twilight twitched at Spike's reins, urging him back into a slow walk down ravine.
The sun had been faint even before Twilight entered the valley, but now in its depths, as it wound away to the north, she found the light was almost entirely lost. The cliffs continued to rise on either side, fractured and grey, and riddled in their heights with dark hollows. A few trees overhung the edges, the first she had seen for several days since her trek had entered the Northern Waste. She stared up at them, and up at the sliver of milky white sky, where the moon's thick, grey crescent still hung just over Twilight's shoulder.
After about an hour of their silent trek Spike slowed, shying away from the path ahead, something he had rarely done in all the years Twilight had known him. She urged him on; Spike shuddered and reluctantly pressed forward, grunting and growling his discontent the entire time. Another dozen paces and he stopped again, turning his head and crouching low to the ground. Twilight swore under her breath and whipped at his reins. This time Spike's refusal was accompanied by a spark of fire and a curl of smoke from his nose.
Twilight answered with a grunt of her own, before looking back along the ravine. Nothing moved, nor made a sound. Even the air was still, now she thought to consider it, deadened by a fine mist that had risen unnoticed from the earth to fill the entire valley floor. The valley might as well have been frozen in time. Sighing, Twilight leaned back to stretch her arms and shoulders, wincing at the tension across her back. She leaned over to give a reassuring pat to Spike's head and then slid from her saddle.
Gravel crunched as her hooves hit the ground, sounding unnaturally loud, yet dead and flat.
"What's got into you, Spike?" Twilight sauntered around to Spike's face, running her hand across the thick iron harness wrapped around his snout. "I wouldn't expect this sort of behaviour from my number one ride. There's nothing to be scared of down there and plenty to be scared of back the way we came. Do you want to be turned into some Ass's armour?"
The dragon's only reply was a sullen half-yawn. Smoke still rose from his nostrils, and as Twilight examined him she could see all of the radiator scale on his face and neck clamped tight shut, protecting the vulnerable blood vessels beneath. She turned to look down the valley, but saw nothing.
"Spike, we haven't got time for this." She tugged the reins from Spike's back and gripped them firmly in both hands. "Come on."
Spike snorted another gout of smoke, but with his focus on Twilight it seemed a little easier to get him walking. She backed up a few paces, drawing Spike along by his head; first one step, then another, until he was moving at a steady, if frustratingly slow pace. With that small problem sorted, Twilight turned to continue walking. The mist was thicker now, catching what little light found its way into the ravine and smearing it into a smoked-glass wall just beyond her reach. Twilight was soon compelled to cast a werelight into the air ahead of them. The fitful light cast stark shadows past the ravine's underbrush, but the mist remained obstinately unbreached – if anything, the light only made it seem thicker. After just a few paces, in which Twilight seemingly managed to stumble over every single rock on the valley floor, it was clear that even that light wasn't enough to allow her to travel safely. She stopped and let her shoulders drop.
"This was probably a mistake," she said.
Spike nuzzled at Twilight's back and rumbled what was probably an agreement. She could feel the heat radiating from his cheeks and neck, which meant he wasn't nervous anymore. At least there was that small mercy.
"Perhaps if I wait a little while it'll clear up," she murmured, looking this way and that. The valley walls were entirely invisible now; she had even lost sight of the sky. The only saving grace was that her pursuers would have no luck in the mist either – assuming they had even thought to continue the chase.
With one ear cocked back down the ravine, Twilight set about unloading her packs from Spike's back. She winced again at the crunch of shattered glass in the first, before carefully setting it down on the ground. The others soon joined it, and finally Spike's saddle and bridle, which dropped to the floor with a loud clunk. Twilight paused to listen, but no echo returned, which was a little unusual given the shape of the ravine. She should have heard something.
At least staying warm was simple enough, requiring only that Twilight coax Spike to sneeze on a pile of drier underbrush that she had gathered in a rough pile. Before long she found herself staring at the flames, wondering if perhaps it would have been more satisfying to raise the fire with her own magic, or even with the crude bush skills of the Earthers
"On the other hand," she murmured, "it's easier this way."
Spike let out a rumbling sigh and flopped to the ground a short distance from the flames.
"I guess you're right, after all the excitement I do need a rest" said Twilight. She crawled to her packs, regretting yet again the loss of the rabbit. There didn't seem to be any game in the ravine, or nothing she'd be willing to eat just yet. Fortunately she had a few days supply of hardtack and a somewhat sweaty lump of cheese she'd been saving for a special occasion. She wouldn't go wanting, assuming she could find a way out of the place.
Despite her fears the sextant, safe inside its thick hide carrying case, was intact; the arrow had instead found the treasured telescope her mother had given her for her sixteenth birthday. Its brass body had been pierced through and warped by the arrow, shattering the larger of its lenses and knocking the entire eyepiece clean off. For a few moments Twilight held it in her hands, wondering if she might be able to repair it, but even if she had the finesse to bring the parts of the lens together she knew it would never really work again. She tossed the scope back in her pack and discarded the shards of glass into the fire.
"Looks like we're on cheese and crackers," Twilight said to Spike as she laid out her bedroll. The dragon rolled a doleful eye toward her, but remained silent. "And the freshest, finest water this side of—well, wherever we are."
She sat down as her dinner levitated toward her, wrapped in the pale glow of her magic. Twilight set the tack and cheese down on her bed and took a swig from the canteen that had followed close behind.
"Two weeks. You'd think I would have found something by now, unless they really are just a myth." Another swig of water was followed by a crumbling lump of cheese. It had grown a bit of a crust that was sour and sharp on her tongue, but she liked that. "But even myths have some basis in reality, even if it's just weird rock formations or unusually tall—well, that's what a giant is, right? Someone really tall?"
Spike's yawn filled in the other side of a conversation that was mostly taking place inside Twilight's mind. She shook her head. "Yes, I know there's more to it than just being big. And yes I know that there's at least one school that says the word we translate as giant doesn't have anything to do with size either. You'd still think there'd be something up here, some reason why the gods are supposed to live in these wastelands. An ancient city maybe." Twilight glanced around the visible floor of the ravine. "Or at least a ruined castle. Even some old rock carvings would be nice..."
A sigh washed over Twilight; Spike had fallen asleep, curled around the fire like a snake around a lantern. His scales flexed in slow rhythm as he breathed, while his crest leaned subtly toward the flames, glowing pink with blood as he soaked up the warmth. Twilight smiled as she arranged a little more fuel on the fire, followed by a large rock that she dropped into the heart of the flames.
Satisfied that she would at least be warm for a few hours, Twilight settled against the largest of her packs and tugged a blanket across her shoulders. She took out her diary from a pocket inside her tunic and cracked it open, peeking back at the entries from the days before she started her trek. The optimism in her words then seemed so inexplicable to her now; the conviction that she would solve the mystery of the Gods and overturn centuries of dogma...
The fire roared up as the rock at its heart shifted. Normally Twilight would have thought nothing of it – rocks balanced on unstable surfaces would have a tendency to move, after all – but something about the movement caught her attention. Some particular sensation she couldn't quite name. She placed the diary back in her tunic and then leaned toward the dancing flames, watching for anything that seemed out of place.
A sound reached her; subtle, almost imperceptible. The movement at great speed through the air of something ponderous and weighty, followed moments later by a dull thud that sent a flurry of sparks rising from the fire.
Twilight stood up, casting the blanket from her back, and stumbled to Spike's side. He was still fast asleep. She didn't even bother trying to rouse him, for there was little worse than a groggy dragon snapping at your heels every chance he got. Instead she pulled her bow free of the saddle still strapped to his back, stringing it as fast as her shaking fingers could manage.
The ground shuddered gently beneath her hooves.