Andean stared at the offensively boring wallpaper of the hospital waiting room. He hadn’t cried. He couldn’t. He had to be strong. Strong for Stella, strong for Corona, strong for his kingdom.
He didn’t feel strong.
His wings hung limp at his sides. One covered Corona as she sat beside him, tears pouring unabashedly down her cheeks. Two guards, one griffon and one pony, stood at the door, barring anybody but doctors from entering. Luna paced around the room, a cup of coffee cradled in her magic.
“I’ve spent too much time in this life-forsaken hospital these past few weeks,” she muttered.
Andean’s first instinct was to respond with sarcasm. He couldn’t muster up the desire. “I suppose.”
Luna winced. She looked Andean in the eye. “I swear that these doctors are the best in their field. If anypony can help Stella—”
“Is that why you sent Celestia to the Crystal Empire?” Andean said. “To see inferior doctors?”
Luna gritted her teeth and raised her wings. “I will do everything in my power to see her cured of whatever affliction has taken her.”
Andean let out a coarse breath. “Always the heroes, you and Celestia both.” He clicked his beak and hardened his gaze. “Always the watchful protectors. Always the mother hens, hovering over your chicks. Always commanding and leading and—”
“Yes, Andean, I lead,” Luna snapped.
She finished off her cup and tossed it across the room. It settled next to the wastebasket. “I lead, and I command, and I protect, because I can. My sister and I were given these powers, no matter the source, to do just that. To stand idly by and watch the world tear itself apart would be against everything we hold dear.”
Andean shook his head. He stood up, forcing Corona to scramble away. “So you impose your will on everything you touch. Because if anyone stepped one inch out of line, the world would spiral into flames. Everyone must live the pony way or—”
“This helps nothing!”
Andean sneered, glaring over his wickedly-curved beak.
She mulled over her thoughts, trying to order them into a tidy parade rather than an angry mob. “I understand your feelings of anger and frustration. But there are far more important things going on than your issues with my sister and me.”
Luna held her head high. She pointed at her cutie mark. “You see this symbol? You see this brand upon my coat, burning hotter than an iron? This is my promise to protect and watch over all those who need somebody to help them. To guide them through their dreams and allow them a chance to sleep soundly. To give them hope for a brighter tomorrow. My sister and I gave up our lives so that we could lead our people on to a fuller, happier life.”
Her ears tipped downward. “I forget that sometimes. When I do, people I care about get hurt.”
She sighed deeply, watching close as Andean’s expression hardened. “If I am a mother hen smothering her flock, it is because there are monsters outside that would devour the chicks that are so very precious to me. Do you not feel the same?”
Andean looked to Corona, who wrung her talons together. He reached out a foreleg to draw her closer. “How can I not?” He squeezed his daughter’s shoulder. “But I am not one of your chicks, Luna.”
“No,” Luna said, “Stella is.”
Andean’s face drooped. He combed his feathery beard with a talon and nodded.
“So the doctors will look after her. Once they find what’s wrong with her, they can administer treatment.” Luna bowed her head. “And whatever they prescribe, I shall make sure she gets what she needs.”
Andean sank into the waiting room’s hard couch. He pinched the bridge of his beak. “I already know what’s wrong with her, Luna. Why do you think I grasped so desperately for ambrosia?”
Luna perked her ears forward, drawing her wings to her flanks. “What is it?”
“My Queen… my wife…” Andean turned to his daughter. “Fayr died when Stella was only four. She had a disease of the bones, in the very marrow. She would get aching pain in her limbs; exhaustion at all hours of the day. She grew ill and could not fight it.”
Luna wiped a tear away. “Now Stella has it, too?”
“Aye.” Andean gripped the armrest. His claw tips dug into the fabric. “Our doctors believe it to be hereditary. It’s like… a poison that won’t let go.”
Luna sat on the floor, pressing her lips tight. “Do you know the source of this disease?”
Andean ruffled his wings. “Our doctors have yet to find a way to fight—”
They were interrupted by a knock. The three of them turned to see Dr. Fine standing in the doorway. “King Ursagryph? I have news of your daughter.”
Andean stood up and glared at the griffon guard. “Let him in.”
Dr. Fine made his way cautiously into the waiting room. He had a strong face on, showing just a hint of concern. He bowed to both Luna and Andean. “Your Majesty. Your Grace.”
“Spit it out, stallion,” Andean said, his voice weary.
Dr. Fine’s knees trembled as he faced the enormous griffon. “Sir, your daughter has Acute Leukemia.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Andean hissed.
“It’s a cancer, Andean,” Luna said. “It means her body’s cells are not working as they should.”
Andean lifted a fist. He pointed one sharp claw at Dr. Fine. “Well, if you know what it is, begin administering the ambrosia!”
Dr. Fine swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, sir, but—”
“Are you waiting for permission?” Andean’s throat rumbled. “Then I give it! Give her the ambrosia so that she can be cured!”
Luna touched a wingtip to his shoulder. “Andean, please—!”
Andean’s voice came out as a bellowing lion’s roar. “What?”
The waiting room clock ticked loudly in the ensuing silence. Luna chewed her lower lip. “Andean, ambrosia sooths pain and aids in cellular reproduction. It is used to mend wounds, not cure illnesses.”
Corona peeked out from underneath her father’s chest. “Then why can’t it work?”
“Cancer happens when the body fights against itself.” Luna knelt down and brought her head to Corona’s level. “Some of Stella’s cells have been changed into something bad. If you give her ambrosia, and speed up the creation of those cancer cells…” She let out a heavy breath. “It would cause her to fade even faster.”
Andean’s talons scraped the linoleum floor. His knees wobbled. “Oh, Creator—”
He slumped back against the wall. His wings bunched up behind him, sending black feathers fluttering everywhere. He stared at Luna with his beak agape, a horrific pain spreading through his chest.
He thought about his campaign for ambrosia, the coveted medicine of the breezies. He thought about how hard he’d grasped at it, with no success. He thought about the wickedness he had contemplated just to get near it.
He thought about what he’d almost done to his daughter.
King Andean Ursagryph cradled his head in his talons and wept.
***
“Twilie?”
Twilight Sparkle opened her eyes. She sucked in a greedy breath through a parched throat. She coughed, but there wasn’t much force behind it. She blinked against the shining lights all around her, muddled with colorful blots.
“Twilight?” A blue blob moved as a distant voice echoed in her ear. “Twilight, you up? Can you hear me?”
Twilight shifted her head and let her cheek lay on her fluffy pillow. She tried to hum a weak “Mm hmm,” but her throat wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, she did her best to nod.
“Yes!” the blob said. “I knew you could pull through! Never doubted you for a…heh heh… minute.”
Rainbow Dash, Twilight realized. She gave the mare an appreciative smile. She didn’t have the strength for much else.
Twilight’s eyes focused a bit more. She could pick out distinct shapes. It was Rainbow Dash, alright, colorful, messy mane and all. Shining Armor stood on the other side of the bed, his face stony, but his eyes bright.
“There you are, Twilie,” he said. “How’re you feeling?”
Twilight lolled her tongue out in response.
Shining cracked a grin. “I can’t blame you.”
A pink blot at the edge of the bed came into soft focus. Princess Cadenza reached up to lay a hoof on Twilight’s foreleg. “Welcome back.”
Twilight couldn’t ignore the telltale damp streaks on her sister-in-law’s face. She reached across her body to rub Cadenza’s pink hoof. She tried to say “hi,” but all that came out was an airy whisper.
Cadenza nudged Shining with her wing. “You’re probably thirsty, aren’t you, Twilight?”
Shining looked at his wife with a raised eyebrow. A moment later, both shot up his brow. “Uh. Right! I was getting that.”
He fumbled around on a nearby table, filling a glass and trying to open a straw’s wrapper.
Cadenza sighed. “Magic, Shiny.”
Shining Armor paused just before trying to grip the cup between his hooves. He swallowed hard, a pink blush overtaking his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry, Cadence, just… thinking.”
“Thinking is hazardous to your health,” Rainbow Dash snickered.
Twilight lidded her eyes and drew her mouth into a thin line.
“It was a joke, Twi.” Rainbow settled down into a small smile. “But you knew that, didn’t you?”
Twilight wanted to say “Yes, but it wasn’t a very good one,” but she couldn’t put any energy into her voice. She sighed as Cadence inclined her bed, letting her sit up. Shining carried the cup in a pink glimmer and held it in front of her mouth. She sipped clear, cool, beautiful liquid from the straw.
Her neck itched. She reached up to scratch it, but Rainbow Dash stopped her hoof halfway up. “No, no, no. Don’t touch it. Doctor’s orders.”
Twilight shifted her head. She felt a large bandage rub against her coat. Numbness ran through her rear left leg. The tip of her ear felt strange. A dozen or so cuts and scrapes were all that remained of deep gashes and painful avulsions. She tried again to speak, and again let out only a slight hiss.
Her eyes widened. The bandage on her neck. The lack of strength in her throat. It added up, but she didn’t like the sum. She put her tongue against the top of her mouth and formed words with her lips. “Shah-Shining!”
Her loudest word was a whisper. Her vocals chords were unresponsive, if she even still had them at all. She clenched her jaw and smacked the mattress with a weak paff.
“Easy, Twi!” Rainbow Dash grabbed her forelegs and held them tight. “What’s wrong? What’s the matter?”
Twilight squirmed under her covers. “Can’t spea—I can’t speak—”
Cadence frowned, knitting her eyebrows together. “I’m sorry, Twilight, I can’t understand you.”
“Shh!” Shining came up to the side of the bed and leaned close, one ear swiveled towards his little sister. “Say that again, Twilight. What’s wrong?”
Twilight sniffed as tears came to her eyes. “I c-can’t,” she wheezed, “I can’t talk.”
Shining’s ear twitched. “I’m… not sure I understand.”
“Her voocal cords hev been severed,” a high-pitched voice trilled. The ponies turned their heads to watch a tiny breezie fly in on thin, transparent wings. His green coat was a shade too bright to go with his orange tail. Rather than a mane, a long, trailing, curly beard hung off his face.
Twilight wiped her eyes. She thought the beard looked like it was holding on for dear life.
“Dr. Summerwind,” Rainbow Dash groaned. “Twilight, this is the guy who’ll be looking after you for a while. Joy.”
The breezie landed on Twilight’s bed and trotted his way up the sheets. His lanky legs pattered across the fabric. “The ambrosia deed ets job healing her injuries. The scar tissue has foolly closed oop the wound in her neck. Hooever, that has left her widout working voocal cords.”
“I can’t take this guy seriously.” Rainbow Dash scrunched her muzzle. “Like, literally. Why can’t you just go in and fix her vocal cords, huh? Aren’t you supposed to be the best doctor in Equestria?” She glanced at Cadence. “And the neighboring territories?”
“Et’s noot that simple,” he said, his little face wrinkling. “Et would be a very invasive, very dangerous surgery. Weeth leetle to no chance of success. There is nooting left to work weeth.”
The lump in Twilight’s throat grew firmer. She tried to cough, but only a woosh of air came out.
Summerwind tapped his hoof against her elbow. “There, there. Doon’t geeve up hoope. In time, the wound weell heeal. When that happens, eyew may geet eyewr voocal cords back.”
He glanced back out the door. He looked up at Shining Armor and Cadenza. “Time weell heal her. Right now, I am very concerned weeth the oother patient.”
Cadenza’s wings flared out. “I-is there change in Celestia?”
“Eyes.” Summerwind shook his head. “And et’s noot good.”
Shining and Cadence looked at each other.
“You guys go ahead,” Rainbow said. “I’ll stay here with Twilight until you get back.”
“Thank you.” Cadenza extended a wing. “If you would, Doctor?”
Summerwind hopped on. The three of them—the doctor, Shining, and Cadence—hurried out the door, making way for another room deep in the Crystal Palace.
Twilight stared after them, every fiber of her being wishing she could follow. She felt a sting on her foreleg and noticed the intravenous drip attached to a vein. She spread aching, stiff wings.
“You, um, need anything, Twilight?” Rainbow Dash leaned against the bed. “I’ll get you whatever you need. Just… name it… Or, like—” She leaped into the air. “I got it! Hold up.”
She disappeared below the bed and rummaged through a saddlebag. When she popped back up, she held a notepad in front of Twilight. “Here’s what I use to write to Scootaloo. I’ve got a neat-o retractable pen, too. Good stuff. Maybe you can write with this until you get better, right?”
Twilight Sparkle took the pad between her hooves. The pen clattered on top of it an instant later.
“S-so just write out what you want.” Rainbow Dash hovered, doing her best not to disturb the nearby medical instruments with her wing beats. “It doesn’t matter if you’re out of practice with mouthwriting. You can’t have worse penmanship than I do!”
Twilight couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. They dribbled down her face and plopped onto the paper.
Rainbow Dash rubbed her hooves together. “So what do you need?”
Twilight set the pad and pen beside her. She held her forelegs out to Dash.
Rainbow put her feet on the ground. She leaned over the bed and wrapped Twilight in a warm embrace. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, I can do that. I got one right here.”
She let Twilight cry into her shoulder, rocking her back and forth.
***
“Most of the treatments we have for cancer are harsh,” Dr. Fine said. “Very hard on the body. Chemicals, radiation, and the like. However, there is a fledgling treatment we’ve just put into use.”
Andean sat quietly, listening closely to the doctor. He twiddled his talons for lack of anything better to do. “What is the treatment?”
“It’s a new surgical technique used mostly for amputees.” Dr. Fine allowed himself a proud smile. “Entire limbs can be removed and reattached as easily as casting a spell. It was, oddly enough, inspired by Discord’s actions when he escaped his prison ten years ago. He removed horns and wings with no lasting damage to the individual—”
“Doctor, please.” Luna leaned past Andean’s slumped shoulder. “How does this help Stella?”
Dr. Fine harrumphed. “By repurposing the spell slightly, we may be able to grasp the damaged cells and phase them right through the uncorrupted tissue, thus removing the cancer. No knives, just enough anesthetic to keep her under, and Stella can return to Felaccia in just a few weeks.”
“‘Fledgling treatment?’ ‘May be able?’” Andean shook his head. “Doctor, my daughter is not a science experiment.”
“No, but she is in a later stage of her illness.” Dr. Fine looked between the two rulers. “Forgive me for saying it, but the time for action is now.”
Andean rubbed his face. He blinked his reddened eyes. “What are our other options?”
“Limited. We could start the chemo immediately, but…” Dr. Fine glanced at Luna. “From what I hear, the facilities in Felaccia aren’t equipped for that sort of thing. She’d have to remain in Canterlot indefinitely.”
Luna rested her foreleg against Andean’s folded wings. “A friend of mine recently underwent this surgery with marvelous results. I can also attest for Dr. Hefty Fine’s abilities. He’s the best unicorn in the business.”
Andean closed his talons around his two smooth, magnetic stones. “No harm will come to my daughter. Swear it.”
Before the doctor could speak, Luna stepped between them. “I will give my word. Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.”
Andean tilted his head. Luna was able to summon a half-smile. “Believe me when I say it is a very, very big promise. It will work out, Andean. If not with this surgery, then we will find another way. And another. And we will not stop fighting until the battle is won.”
Andean tossed his rocks into the air. They met at the apex of their flight and clattered back into his grasp. “Won by whom?”
He waved a wing as he stood up. “Do it. Save my daughter. You have my blessing.”
“Absolutely, King Ursagryph.” Dr. Fine stood up and walked towards the room where Stella slept.
Andean lumbered to a window and watched the midmorning sun. He rested his forehead against the glass pane. “I’ve been fighting so long. Only to lose that which I’ve been fighting for.”
He tensed his biceps. “I fear it might kill me, Luna. Not in the physical realm, but I would truly be dead.”
Luna came alongside him. She squinted her eyes against the bright light. “Now is not the time to give in, or to contemplate defeat. Now is the time to renew your resolve. To remember why you’re fighting. To remember that the enemy is not impossible to stop.”
She faced her ears forward and snapped her hooves to attention. “To discover that the battle is much easier when fought with friends.”
Andean wrinkled his forehead. He drew back from the window and looked to Luna. She met his gaze with an even, strong stare. He snarled, drawing a growl from the depths of his heart. “Then let us discuss the monster who would dare face such powerful allies.”
***
“Cousin Blueblood, where are you going?”
Blueblood looked down at the silvery, crystalline colt trotting along beside him. The young stallion’s white mane, streaked with his father’s trademark blue, was curled at the ends like his mother’s. “Am I not allowed to walk around, Lance?”
Silver Lance walked underneath Cadence’s outstretched wing. His strawberry-colored eyes peered suspiciously at Blueblood. “It’s weird you’re walking around the part of the palace where Celestia’s staying.”
“Oh?” Blueblood tossed his blond mane and gave Cadence a pointed look. “Why would that be odd? Is the area off-limits to the royal family, now?”
“Dad said you didn’t want to see her.” Silver Lance furrowed his brow. “That’s weird by itself, because she’s your aunt. But then you start walking down the corridor towards her room. You changing your mind is twice as weird. So it’s weirdness times weirdness which equals…” He pulled his mouth to one side. “Double-weird.”
“Leave Cousin Blueblood alone, Lance,” Cadence said, bumping Silver in the side with a feather. “He’s had a rough few days.”
Blueblood curled his lips in a miniscule, hidden smile. “I see you inherited the dizzying Twilight-Family intellect. But you miss one key bit of information that unravels the weirdness: I was summoned to the High Princess’ room. By your mother, at that.”
Cadence moved her wingtip to sit behind her son and shoved him forward. “And you ought to go find your sister. Come on, breakfast is waiting.”
“Wait, Mom.” Silver trotted backwards as his mother steered him away from various tables and walls. “So if you didn’t want to see her and you’re going anyway, that means it’s really important. And if it’s really important, it’s either really good or really—”
“Lance, I would rather not have a play-by-play of my life.” Blueblood rounded a corner. “Deduce if you wish, but keep it inside your head—”
He almost ran smack-dab into Fleur. The two of them stepped back and turned away from each other. Blueblood turned to Caution, who guarded the doorway into the infirmary. The earth pony swung the door open, and allowed Fleur to step through first.
Blueblood looked down at Silver and noted the inquisitive look on the colt’s face. “Zip it.”
Silver trotted off with a flick of his tail. “I didn’t say anything, Cousin Blueblood.”
Blueblood snorted. “Indeed.”
He entered the room beside a hesitant Cadenza and found a seat along the edge of the wall. Fleur sat across the room, a meter or two away from where Shining kept a vigil at the bedside. The little breezie doctor Summerwind fluttered around the room, checking instruments and twisting dials. Skyhook stood inside the room, leaving it guarded from both sides of the entryway.
“I’m glad you could come,” Cadence told Blueblood. “It’s just… nice to have a little something familiar.”
Blueblood winced and tried to face away from the bed, while pretending he wasn’t. “Even if it’s me?”
“Well, Lyra couldn’t afford the ticket…” Cadence tried to laugh. She bit her lip and hopped forward, wrapping her wings around him. “I missed you, Cousin.”
Blueblood returned the hug with a gentle pat. “I missed you, too.”
Celestia lay motionless on the bed, a weak pulse registering on the monitor. Mechanical lungs pumped air into her lungs, while precious ambrosia dripped into her bloodstream.
“The brain activity is steell strong,” Summerwind said, “boot the pulse is weakening.”
Shining frowned, wrapping his foreleg around Cadence as she sat beside him. “She’s dying. Why?”
“The magic of the alicorns is steell very alien to us.” Summerwind landed on a machine that whirred and clicked as it produced a rolled sheet of data. “Et is oobviously what has been keeping the princess alive all this time. Boot like all magic, et is produced by the heart.” He gestured to Celestia’s bed. “Soometing that is in short supply for her. The magic is running out.”
Fleur gasped. “And when it runs out—”
“I can oonly speculate that there weell be noo moore Celestia.” Summerwind crossed his forelegs. “That is soometing I cannot let happen! She needs a heart transplant!”
Blueblood felt something twist in his gut. “What sort of heart could sustain a mare that powerful? Unless you have any alicorn hearts lying around, I fail to see how she could return to her duties.”
“Eyes, well…” Summerwind stroked his fluffy beard. “That’s the catch.”
Nopony moved for a long, stifling moment.
“We could save her life,” Blueblood ventured, “but leave her a mere shadow of an alicorn.”
Fleur brought her tail into her lap and brushed it to occupy her mind. “She should have been long gone, Husband. Anything beyond that is a miracle and a gift—”
“A miracle! A gift!” Blueblood’s mane slapped his shoulder as he shook his head. “A miracle would be for her heart to just grow back! But it can’t, can it? No, we need to do something big and terrifying and dangerous!”
He held his forelegs out. “Cousin, Shining, do either of you have an excess in hearts somewhere? No? Well, shame. Seems we need to take her right back to Equestria!”
“Blueblood!” Cadence said. “Now is not the time to get angry.” She turned back to Summerwind. “We’ll contact Equestria. Their organ-donor program is stronger than ours right now.”
Shining cast Blueblood a dirty glance behind his wife’s back. “How long do they have to look?”
Summerwind’s wings and antennae drooped. “I fear she has less than a fortnight.”
Blueblood thumped back against the chair. He ran his hooves through his mane, shutting his eyes tight against a throb in his skull. He stood up and cantered to the door.
“Where are you going?” Shining asked.
Blueblood looked over his shoulder. “I need a drink.” He left, bumping his shoulder against Skyhook on the way out.
Cadence started after him, but Fleur held a hoof out. She stood up and shuffled her slender legs. “I’ll… see to him. I’ll make sure he… doesn’t make too big a mess.”
The door clicked behind her.
Cadence rubbed her forehead and groaned. “I’m ready for bed.”
“We just got up,” Shining said.
“I’m ready for bed right now.”
***
Care Carrot galloped through the front doors of Ponyville’s castle. She swiveled her head back and forth, searching for hide or hair of Blankety. Realizing that the building was a great deal bigger than a single room, she sighed and began to plod along. “Blank? Blank! Where are you? I need to tell you something!”
She peeked into the kitchens. “Blankety Blank?”
The kitchens were occupied, but not by the changeling. Spike stood at the stove in a frilly pink apron, whipping up a fried-egg breakfast. He lifted his head just long enough to see who it was. “You want an egg, Captain?”
“No thanks.” Care poked her head in the room. “You seen Blank around anywhere?”
“Yeah, passed him in the hallway.” With an expert flick of his wrist, Spike slid the eggs onto a plate. “He and Time Turner were saying something about grabbing breakfast in town.”
Care took a seat at the table and let her chin thump to the wood. “I’m guessing you didn’t get any specifics?”
“Nadda. Sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Care undid her ponytail and let her green mane hang loose. “It’s just that my timing is as bad as my tact.”
“Is it time-sensitive information?” Spike pulled out the chair across from her. “I could probably find somepony to track them down.”
She waved him off. “No. No, I’ll see him at the celebration tonight. Assuming he goes to it.”
Spike stabbed a fork in the yolk. He lifted the dribbling, yellow egg to his mouth. “Why wouldn’t he?”
“Uh.” Care froze up as she searched her mind for what could and should not be shared. “Just a, um, quirk he has, I guess. Might not like Nightmare Night. I dunno.”
Spike lidded his eyes. “Smooth.”
“Whadda yah want? I’m a guard, not a spy.” Care held her head in her hooves. “Though I seem to be doing underhanded things all the time nowadays.”
Spike toasted a slice of bread with an exhale. “It’s not too late for a career change.”
Care frowned. “Har, har. If I’ve learned one thing in all this, it’s that skullduggery is a real pain in the butt.”
Spike popped open a can of apple butter. He gave it a loving sniff before spreading it over his toast. “Why? What sorta craziness have you guys gotten yourselves into?”
“You mean besides sneaking into the locked archives?”
“That was you—?” Spike snorted. “Well, that explains the news yesterday, then.”
Care’s eyes widened. “The news?”
“Yeah. They said something about two groups of ponies beating the snot out of each other in the library.” Spike lifted his fists next to his face and threw a punch. “Sounds like a good old-fashioned barroom brawl without the alcohol.”
Care ground her molars together, leaning her head back in an exaggerated eye-roll. “I’m pretty sure Daring was drunk.”
“Who?”
“Uh—” Care sucked her lips in. “I said Yearling.”
Spike crossed his arms.
“I’m pretty sure she’s always drunk. On something.” Care coughed into her hoof. “What kinda clearance level do you have, anyway?”
Spike kept his eyebrows level. The edge of his lip trailed upward. “I always know something between too much and too little. Twilight and I hung around the Starswirl Wing like we owned the place. I thought Celestia’s personal guard would have a high enough clearance to enter the archives.”
“Not especially.” Care raised a hoof before lowering it to the table. “Y—I know a lot and can do a lot, but I’m not exactly on her defense council.”
“Just security, then?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I can’t argue against sneaking in, since that would be a real pot and kettle moment,” Spike said. “It’s not just a cloak and dagger thing, Care. Being in close proximity to any of the princesses leads to a little sneaking around.”
He scooped up the first few bites of his eggs. “So what’re you dressing up as for Nightmare Night?”
Care smirked, looking upwards in thought. “Radiance, my favorite hero from the Power Ponies.”
“Awesome!” Spike tapped his fork against the plate. “Didja hear that they’re gonna start filming the movie in a couple months? I hear they’re campaigning to get Rainbow Dash to play Zap.”
Care crossed her forelegs. “Didja know you were swerving away from the ‘sneaking into the archives’ story on purpose?”
Spike gave her a sheepish smile and swallowed. “Can yah blame me? I hardly know what’s a secret and what’s not anymore.”
Care laughed. “The princesses need to make a flowchart or something.”
“Twilight can get right on that.” Spike picked up his plate and made his way to the sink. “Just as soon as she wakes—”
He finished that thought with a sudden flame-fueled burp. The smoke swirled in the air, drawing swirls around the kitchen. Spike reached his hand into the midst and pulled out a rolled up, wax-sealed scroll. Spike’s eyes widened; the seal held Princess Mi Amore Cadenza’s cutie mark.
He ripped it open and scanned the letter. His smile widened as he read on. “She’s awake. She’s finally awake!”
Care leaned over the back of her seat. “Who?”
“Twilight! She’s gonna be okay!” Spike jumped up and landed with a table-rattling thud, waving the letter in the air. “She’s awake! Woo-hoo!”
He ran off in the direction of the exercise room, his footsteps shaking the stained glass windows. Care watched him go for a while, then shrugged. She jumped up to follow him at a gallop.
“Mom! Aunt Yearling!” Spike burst through the door to find the two sparring. Twilight Velvet turned her head, giving Daring Do the opportunity to sucker punch her.
Velvet glared at her friend before turning back to Spike. “What’s up? What’ve you got?”
“Twilight’s awake!” Spike waved the scroll in her face. “Cadence just wrote a letter! Look! Look!”
Velvet gripped it in a quick spell. She scanned down the page. “Did you read it?”
“Yeah!” Spike blinked. “Kinda. Mostly. The first sentence or two. I kinda wanted to read it with you guys.”
Twilight Velvet nodded. Her face grew darker as the letter went on. “She’s alive. That’s what’s important.”
“Wow.” Daring Do leaned against Velvet in an attempt to see. “If you’re saying stuff like that, it’s gotta be bad.”
Care Carrot skidded to a halt just inside the room. She shuffled her feet as she saw the three of them read with pronounced frowns. “Sorry. I’ll be back later.”
“No,” Twilight Velvet held up a hoof. “Stay. This concerns you, too.”
Spike wrung his hands together. He looked up at Care, holding back sizzling tears. “Twilight’s alive, but hurt. And…” He nibbled his scaly lip. “Something’s gone wrong with Celestia.”
Care scrambled forward. She balanced on her hind legs to see over Velvet’s and Daring’s heads. Her eyes ran down the letter in a race against her heartbeat. “A transplant? For an alicorn? That’s… that’s stupid!”
Daring Do rolled her eyes. “And you’re suddenly a medical professional.”
“If she had just a regular unicorn’s heart—or pegasus or earth pony or whatever—she wouldn’t be able to raise the sun!” Care clomped down to all fours. “It’s just basic logic! It’ll leave her weak and—”
“Captain!” Twilight Velvet snapped.
Care jumped to attention from sheer instinct. She kept her eyes trained forward, her ears listening in rapt concentration.
Velvet sighed. She rubbed dampness from her eyes and wiped it against her chest. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Care searched her mind, wracking her brain for anything that could get a better solution. Anything that could fix it. Even a little. “No, Ma’am.”
Spike took the letter back from Velvet. He rolled it up and gripped the page tight.
Twilight Velvet peeled the boxing wraps from her hooves. “They’re doing everything they can, so we need to do everything we can. I think it’s about time we looked at those books of yours, Yearling.”
Daring Do gulped down a breath. She threw Velvet a mock-salute. “I’ll get my thinking cap on.”
Velvet touched Spike’s shoulder. “Would you take notes with us?”
“Sure.” Spike stuffed the scroll in his ever-present satchel of writing utensils. “Of course.”
Twilight Velvet looked Care up and down. She jerked her head towards the library. “If you don’t have anything better to do, you can join us. Otherwise, see you later.”
Care stood still until the three of them left. She sat down hard, the afterimages of the letter burned into her mind. “Seems like we never make any progress.”
She looked to the dim, covered window on the wall. She could try to find Blankety and apologize, or she could try to be helpful while they researched. But she wasn’t much of a scholar, and she didn’t know the city all that well… And if he was kinda-sorta commiserating with Turner or something…
“Aw, heck with it.” She had decided to talk to Blankety, so by golly she was gonna find Blankety. If she interrupted something, she could apologize later. If not, it was a win-win. She set off at a brisk canter. “I’m gonna settle at least one problem.”
***
Shining Armor trotted down the hall, leaving Skyhook to lock the door to Celestia’s room. The bat-pony folded his wings against his purple armor. “That went well.”
“Sarcasm don’t become you, mate,” Caution Tape said. “But oi ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong.”
Skyhook swiveled his feathery ears, catching no sign of anypony but the two of them in the hallway. “You were there the night of the first attack, weren’t you?”
“Aye.” Caution sucked in a breath. “Not a night oi remember lightly, even if oi spent most of it knocked on moi bum.”
Skyhook smirked humorlessly. “I don’t blame you. Seems like things have just been getting worse and worse since then.”
“There is that.” Caution looked at the bat-pony out of the corner of his eyes. “Sometimes, we gorra go through the darkness before we c’n bask in the light. Get refined in flame, so the sayin’ goes. Oi get the feelin’ that whatever Equestria comes out the other end o’ this pile o’ nonsense, it’ll be far stronger for it.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Stark-ravin’ optimism, mate!” Caution chuckled. “It’s about all us earth ponies have goin’ for us!”
“Care to spread the optimism to the other tribes occasionally?” Skyhook glanced over his shoulder, reassuring himself that the door was closed, locked, and not hiding an errant assassin or two. “I’ll trade you for two pints of pessimism.”
“Oi think oi’ll pass on that.”
Skyhook shifted his shoulders, clinking the plates of his armor. He looked down the passageway, which remained empty despite the chill in his spine. “Care said that you were gonna take three months leave. What changed your mind?”
“Care said that, eh?” The faint smile left Caution’s eyes. “Aye, oi was. Was enjoyin’ it, too, right up until oi got a wakeup call durin’ Princess Twilight’s assassination. Once oi realized the problem weren’t gonna sort itself out, weren’t much for it but to return to duty.”
Skyhook’s ears drooped down. “So what will sort it out?”
Caution lifted an eyebrow. “A few brave souls doin’ their duty.”
Skyhook gave him a quick smile. He took a steadying breath and let his wings stretch out. “So what do you think of her?”
“Who?”
“Care.”
Caution grinned. “Gets abrasive sometimes. Pretty good soldier. Great fighter; even outclasses me when the chips are down.” He danced his eyebrows. “Or were yah lookin’ more for ‘smart, attractive young mare who likes long walks on the beach’?”
Skyhook grimaced. “No need to put so fine a point on it.”
“You bat-pony types ain’t as sneaky as you think.” Caution waved a hoof. “Go on ahead an’ see if you don’t get along. You ain’t gonna get any interference from me. Oi’m darn near twice as old as her!
His eyes took on a far-away look. “An’ oi only had one mare who ever captured moi heart.”
“Didn’t know you were married.”
“Oi’m not!” Caution laughed. “It was a long time ago. Still…” He thumped his chest. “You find the right one, tends tah stick with yah.”
Skyhook bobbed his head. His slit pupil jumped to Caution. “You and she still close?”
“We were very close… but… Seems like she’s worlds away right now.” Caution narrowed an eye at Skyhook. “Look at me, oi’m writin’ country music now.”
Skyhook clenched his jaw to suppress a smile. “Oh, how do I remember the face I can’t forget?”
Caution’s grin spread wide. “Shut up, you.”
Armor clanked at the far end of the hall. Skyhook snapped his wings out and scuffed his hoof across the floor. When he actually got a glimpse of the ponies trotting towards him, he relaxed. “Sturm. Drang.”
“Sir.” The burly guards stood at attention. “We’re here to relieve you, Commander. Lieutenant.”
“Thanks, boys.” Caution rolled his shoulders and relaxed his grip on his spear. “You keep an eye on her, you hear?” He prodded Skyhook in the side. “An’ you get yourself some rest! You look like you ain’t slept a wink.”
“Little did you know,” Skyhook said, “I’ve slept two winks.”
“Pardon the heck outta me.” Caution attached his spear to a strap across his back. “Get to bed and dream of feisty orange unicorns.”
When Skyhook disappeared around the corner, Caution’s smile vanished. He sized up the two guards at Celestia’s door. They were both heavily muscled, a head taller than he was. Young and spry. Devoted to a fault.
“You boys keep yourselves outta trouble.” Caution turned on his rear hooves and walked down the hallway. His hooves made loud clanks that echoed off the crystal walls. He caught his reflection several times in the mirrored surfaces. He was the same enchanted white and blond as every Royal Guard. But unlike most of them, he could see a weariness in his eyes that went beyond lack of sleep.
“So that’s it then?” he asked his reflection. “Two weeks to find a heart? Not much time, then.”
He narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like looking at them. They were a window to a soul he didn’t much like seeing. A soul he didn’t much like admitting that he had.
It was a soul that he had squandered.
Caution perked his ears as a crystal pony servant walked right past him. She didn’t notice him at all. She didn’t notice that he wasn’t supposed to be there. Nopony ever noticed the guard that wasn’t supposed to be there, because everypony knew his face.
Caution wasn’t sure he knew his own face. “Celestia…”
Celestia would die before two weeks were up. And she would have to die, Caution knew, by his own hoof.
“For a better tomorrow,” he said, and stormed off to the barracks.