Big Spike tapped his claws together and watched the smaller dragon bustle around the laboratory. Little Spike took a large coil of wire and effortlessly tucked it underneath his arm. “Alright,” Little Spike said. “First we need to carry the antenna outside. Think you can handle that?”
“Sure!” Big Spike opened his mouth wide and craned his neck across the room.
“Whoa, buddy!” Little Spike waved a hand. “You know how powerful dragon jaws are? You’ll twist it into scrap! Pick it up with your fingers. Gently.”
Big Spike closed his jaws with a snap. He grinned as he stretched out an arm. “Sorry. Don’t have too much practice with these things yet. But let me tell you what, I’m sure looking forward to it!”
“Personally,” Little Spike said, “I’m not sure how most ponies live with themselves.” He waggled his clawtips and walked down the hallway. “Writing, holding things, picking your nose—none of that is possible with just hooves.”
Big Spike nodded. “Yeah. I know how it goes. Dogs don’t have much in the way of manipulators. You can only get so many boogers with your tongue.” He held the antenna between the forefinger and thumb of both hands, using his hind legs to slide himself along on his belly. He noted with a frown that he was scuffing up the polish on the floor. “How do earth ponies pick their noses, anyway?”
“Cotton swabs.” Little Spike shivered. “Barring those, you’re pretty much stuck with a crusty schnoz.”
“Gross.”
“I know, right?”
Big Spike glanced down and saw that as he walked, Little Spike unwound the wire. It trailed all the way back to the laboratory. “That hooks up to the machine, right?”
Little Spike glanced back. “Yup. If you look close, you’ll see it’s actually two cords stuck together. One to carry magic up to the antenna—”
“And one to bring the data back to the scanner?” Big Spike brow furrowed. He twisted the antenna in his grip. “So some of these… spike thingies shoot out magic and some of them collect it.”
Little Spike stared hard at the towering dragon. He tilted his head to the side and pushed the front doors open. “You’re catching on pretty quick for somebody who was a dog yesterday.”
“Well, it’s just really… logical. Straightforward. Like a long line of dog treats.” Big Spike ducked his head under the archway and came out into the bright midmorning sunlight. He shielded his eyes with a flick of his long, tapering tail. “You eat one piece, and that leads right to the next one, and eventually you can pretty much predict where the next one’s gonna be, even when you’re eating the others.”
Little Spike walked backwards into the street, surveying the outside of the castle for a good spot to mount the antenna. His eyes locked on a promising tower as he gave the coil a bit more slack. “I think that’s why Twilight appreciates magic so much. One of the reasons. It’s this, therefore this, therefore this. No surprises, no randomness, no sudden left turns. If something happens, it’s because you did something to make it happen.”
Big Spike set the antenna down on the road, next to a pony-sized footprint in the pavement. “Huh. It really is science.”
“Yup. Totally and completely, one-hundred percent.” Little Spike chuckled. “You wanna get Twilight really riled up? Ask her about the people who say magic is communicating with evil spirits and conjuring cheap tricks. Her face turns a real snazzy shade of magenta.”
The larger dragon wrung the end of his tail between his hands. “I don’t need any help making Twilight upset. Either of them, I bet.”
Little Spike dismissed the comment with a flick of his wrist. “Friends disagree. It’s a thing. If you guys are anything like me and Twi, you’ll work through it.” He pointed at the spot on the shining spire he’d selected. “Think you can lift me up to that spot? I’ll start securing the antenna in place.”
Big Spike lowered a hand to the ground to let his smaller counterpart climb aboard. He stood tall on his hind legs and set both the antenna and Little Spike on the distant rooftop. “No offense, I’m sure you’re an expert on this stuff, but I think our relationship might be just a little different than yours. Plus, you know, changing in a big way after the whole ‘dog gains sapience’ thing. It’s a stinking emotional rollercoaster that I didn’t buy tickets for.”
He raised an eyebrow. “How’re you gonna keep that thing from falling, anyhow?”
Little Spike balanced himself on the sloping rooftop of the spire, guiding the bottom of the antenna with one hand while Big Spike kept it from tumbling to the ground. The smaller dragon winked. “By using Wit and Charm,” he said.
He clenched his fist and twisted the metal around the tip of the tower. A loop and a knot later, it was completely secure. “That’s what I named my biceps, by the way.”
Big Spike wrinkled his nose. “Even I know only a dork names his muscles.”
“Don’t let Applejack hear you say that!” a voice called from below. “She and her legs are liable to run you right outta town!”
Big Spike looked down, down, down. Standing between his feet was an earth pony mare. She was tall and muscular, coming up to the height of his big toe; a head above most other ponies he’d seen in town. Her scent was familiar, as was the giant bow holding her red mane back. “Apple Bloom?”
Her eyebrows came together. Her mouth went into a tiny pout. Her eyes rolled as the gears in her head turned, and she shouted up to Little Spike with an unsuppressed grin. “Ah guess you already told your pal here all about me, huh?”
“Oh, no!” Big Spike said. He bent down to place his hands palm-down on either side of her. “I know you. Kinda. I know another you, I guess. A different you. But I know you.”
Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide. She backed away from his smoking snout. “Ah’m afraid ah can’t say the same for you, mister…”
“Big Spike!” Big Spike said.
Her mouth became a flat line. “Big Spike.”
He nodded. “Yup! My name’s Spike, but people call me Big Spike because it might get confusing with him around.” He jerked a thumb at his doppelganger on the rooftop. “So… Big Spike. Kinda like Big Mac when I think about it. You’ve got a Big Mac around here, too, right?”
“A’yup.” Apple Bloom cleared her throat and hollered up at the other Spike. “Is anypony else as confused as ah am? ’Cuz this is a might confusing. Does the name Spike just run in your family?”
Little Spike snapped his fingers to get Big Spike’s attention. “Gimme a lift so that I can explain stuff.”
Big Spike finally peeled his eyes away from Apple Bloom. “Huh? Oh, yeah, sure! Just a sec!” He stood on his rear legs, balancing himself with an earth-shaking step. He held his hand out for Little Spike to ride down. Before he could move, an orange-coated pegasus fluttered in front of his face.
“His name’s not the only thing that runs in his family,” the pegasus mare said. “Check it out; purple and green scales, no wings, even the eyes are spot-on.”
A muscular stallion hovered beside her, rubbing his chin. “Since when do you pay such close attention to his eyes?”
“Jealous?” she said with a grin.
Little Spike let out a snort and motioned towards the ground. “Better set me down so I can make some proper introductions, otherwise this’ll take forever.”
Big Spike set his other self down as the pegasi landed next to Apple Bloom. He sat on his haunches and waited patiently for Little Spike to start speaking. The smaller dragon opened his mouth, but was interrupted by the orange pegasus. “So are you the physical manifestation of his conscience or something like that?”
“What? No!” Little Spike drew himself up on his hind legs and held an arm to the side, standing like a royal herald. “This is Spike. We call him Big Spike to avoid any confusion.”
“You sure nailed that one,” Apple Bloom said.
Little Spike took a deep breath and ignored her. “This dragon is none other than yours truly from an alternate, parallel universe.”
While the three ponies’ jaws dropped, Little Spike turned to his mirror version. He pointed at the tall mare. “The ponies standing before you are Applebloom—” He gestured to the orange mare. “—Scootaloo—” He waved a hand at the stallion. “—and my good buddy Rumble.”
“Oh! I do know Scootaloo.” Spike brought his nose close enough to Scootaloo that his breath rustled her feathers. Her wings were purple, he noticed, not orange like the rest of her. Probably a dye job. Cool. “Hi, Scootaloo.”
“H—” Her voice cracked. “Hi. What the heck are they feeding you in that alternate, parallel, divergent, mirror universe?”
“Yeah,” Rumble said. His eyes widened as his mouth closed. “I kinda imagined an alternate you would be more… I dunno… the same except with a goatee or something.”
Little Spike smirked. “Huh. I’d look good with a goatee.”
“No,” Apple Bloom said.
“But I could really pull it off—”
Apple Bloom scrunched her muzzle. “No!”
“But if I could get Twilight to perform this one spell—”
Apple Bloom’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
Little Spike threw his hands up. He waddled on his hind legs over to Rumble and grinned. “You think I could pull it off, right?”
“I learned pretty dang early on,” Rumble said, his eyes glazing over, “that you just can’t argue with mares.”
Scootaloo and Apple Bloom looked at each other with a longsuffering sigh.
Big Spike moved his lips as he counted silently on his fingers. “Apple Bloom… Scootaloo… Hey, do you two know a girl named Sweetie Belle?”
“Are you kidding?” Scootaloo laughed and loop-de-looped through the air. “She completes the terrifying trio that is the former Cutie Mark Crusaders!” She cupped a hoof beside her mouth. “Word on the street is that she stepped out to get her morning paper, saw a dragon walking through town, said ‘nope,’ and scurried back into her house.”
“Smart mare,” Little Spike said. He crossed his arms, swishing his tail through the air. “What brings the rest of you here?”
Apple Bloom bent her head back to get a look at Big Spike’s head. “Mostly keepin’ an eye on him for Applejack. She says she trusts Twilight not to let a dragon rampage through town, but she wants to be sure.”
Scootaloo bit her lip and fidgeted with her dangling forelegs. “I’m here to reassure my mom that the new dragon’s not gonna eat our house. And then us.”
Rumble frowned. “Roseluck saw the dr—Big Spike? How’d she take it?”
“About how you’d expect.” Scootaloo plastered her best smile onto her face. “She’ll get over it. At some point.”
He rested a wing on her back. “If you need me to help, just let me know.” He sucked on his lip to suppress a smile. “As for me, I’m just here to see the new dragon rampaging around town.”
Big Spike lowered his brow. “I’m not on a rampage.”
“Aw, shucks, we know that, Spike.” Apple Bloom winked at him. “The people of Ponyville just can’t help rememberin’ the last time a giant Spike went for a walk around town.” She tilted her head towards Little Spike, framing her face with a smile. “And it weren’t really his fault then, neither.”
“I’m not too sure about that.” Little Spike heaved at the castle’s doors, pulling them outward and aside. “Come on in, guys. I’ll show off what Twilight and I’ve been working on.”
Scootaloo flapped through the air over his head. “Yes, but will there be snacks?”
“You literally just missed the chocolate chip cookies.”
“Curse my rotten luck!”
Apple Bloom glanced at the antenna above their heads. “Ah also wouldn’t mind gettin’ a closer look at the doohickey you guys put on the roof.”
Big Spike jumped forward, creating a localized earthquake. He reached his hand for her. “Sure thing! Hop aboard and I’ll get you—”
“Don’t touch her, don’t touch her, don’t touch her!”
Little Spike skidded between Apple Bloom and the bigger dragon, his claws making long lines through the crystal steps. He held his arms out to shield her body, his chest heaving. He gasped out a pained breath. “Y-you can’t do that.”
Big Spike jerked his hand back, his eyes darting between Little Spike and Apple Bloom, who was inching away with a deep frown. “What?” Big Spike asked. “What did I do?”
“Y-you can’t…” Little Spike gripped his fists tight. “Remember our talk earlier? About how if you weren’t careful you could have crushed the antenna?”
With a shuffle of his feet against crumbling pavement, Big Spike leaned away. “Yeah. Kinda hard to forget.”
Little Spike closed his eyes. “The antenna is made of metal. Apple Bloom is not.”
Apple Bloom’s ears dipped down. She looked at the floor as her shoulders slumped.
Big Spike gasped. He looked down at his massive hands and nodded. “I’ll be careful.”
“Were you not listening?” Little Spike snapped. “You can’t touch her, you could hurt her! If you can bend metal, how much easier would it be to—?”
“But I won’t hurt her.” Big Spike squared his shoulders and set his jaw firm. “I’d never hurt her, or any of our friends. I promise.”
Apple Bloom spared Scootaloo and Rumble a glance. They stared back with concern etched on their faces like carved stone. “It’s fine, Spike,” she said. “Ah wasn’t gonna—”
“It’s not that simple.” Little Spike snorted to cut off the smoke trailing from his nostrils. “All it takes is one mistake, one little accident, and you’ll end up with something that you can never, ever take back.”
Big Spike looked down at his body, from the armored scales to the razor-sharp claws. “I don’t want to hurt her. So I won’t.”
“Then you’ll keep your distance.” Spike waddled between the waiting ponies, who watched him wordlessly. “We both will.”
Big Spike watched the four of them enter the castle, then followed once they’d gone a certain distance. He closed his eyes halfway, bringing Twilight Sparkle’s face to mind easier than it’d ever come to him when he’d been a dog. An itch appeared behind his ear, which he was able to scratch without breaking stride. It wasn’t quite the same. “Maybe I don’t want to keep my distance.”
***
Twilight Sparkle stayed at the door while Sunset Shimmer strode confidently into the room. She tapped her hooves against the shiny blue floor, considering her options. Once she’d narrowed them down to “Suck it up” and “Run away like a little mouse,” she sighed and passed through the entryway.
Princess Twilight Sparkle’s room was surprisingly familiar. The glowing walls were new, as was the impressively-opulent princess-sized bed, but the rest was all… home. There was the small writing desk in the corner, holding far more paper than was really necessary. There were the hanging mobiles of constellations and molecules. There was a radio in place of a flat-screen television, but she was willing to bet that the old-timey, relatively-antiquated projector in the corner worked just fine.
Then there were the books. Shelves and shelves of them. There were enough to keep Twilight busy for years, and this wasn’t even the actual library room. It took her breath away.
She heard a sniffle from the other side of the room. Princess Twilight wasn’t lying on her bed like Twilight had expected. Instead of curling up underneath her quilt, the princess was hunched over a drawing board, a few tools hovering around in her magic bubbles. A pencil made a plumb-straight line and connected two points on the graph paper. Two quick strikes with a compass centered the next pass of the pencil, and were followed up with a scuff from a length of charcoal.
The princess wiped her eyes, which still dripped a constant stream of tears. Sunset laid gentle hooves on her back, just above her wings, giving her a hint of warmth and support. A quick message was scratched out. Got to copy it down while it’s fresh.
Twilight got close enough to see over Sunset’s shoulder. As more lines were added to the paper, they started to come together in her mind. “You’re copying down the magic paths in the shard.”
Princess Twilight nodded as a new flood of tears spilled onto her forelegs.
Twilight hazarded a guess. “So that you can replicate the effects.”
The princess shook her head vehemently. She wrote down one word and underlined it several times. Understand
This time, Twilight kept her thoughts to herself. Understand. Not replicate. She wanted to modify the spell to get her voice back without worrying about the other effects. Clever, even if she said it about herself. Or her mirror counterpart.
Princess Twilight continued drawing for several minutes, while Twilight busied exploring the room more thoroughly. She saw a quality telescope sitting beside the window, which brought a smile to her face. Were the constellations similar in Equestria, she wondered, or were they completely different? It was something to ask at a better time.
Twilight’s ears perked up when she heard the princess setting down her tools. She rubbed her ears, a grimace spreading across her face as she realized just how huge they were. She didn’t exactly have dainty ears on a normal day, but this was ridiculous. She trotted over to the other ponies and did her best to dedicate the princess’ drawing to memory. With a thought, the lines became numbers denoting lengths and angles. The digits were filed away in the back of her mind.
Princess Twilight looked at her out of the corner of her eye. Twilight ignored the princess until it got just the least bit too uncomfortable. “You okay?”
The princess lifted a notepad in her magic. You have an eidetic memory, too, don’t you?
Twilight gave the princess a double-take. She dithered, coughing in the back of her throat. “It’s borderline photographic, but I’ve said that the film gets a little grainy sometimes. Why?”
Everything stays fresh. Princess Twilight rubbed the base of her horn, closing her eyes lightly. Sunset wrapped her in a tighter embrace. Sights, sounds, smells, it’s all there. Just as clear as they day you experienced it, if you just probe deep enough. It doesn’t go away. She glanced at Twilight, the corners of her eyes wrinkling. So why did I forget the sound of my own voice before today?
Twilight turned away. The only answer the came to mind was a slight shrug.
Princess Twilight reread her message, let out a grunt, and then tossed the page into a nearby garbage can. Sorry. I shouldn’t have dumped that on you. That wasn’t fair of me. I shouldn’t let it get to me.
Twilight crossed her forelegs and thumped to her rear. She angled herself towards one hanging constellation in particular and went about deciphering it. “Why not? You lost your voice. You got it taken from you. I think you’ve got a right to be mad. Heck, maybe you’ve got a right to be furious.”
Sunset ran a hoof down the edge of the princess’ wing. “Twilight…”
“I’m just saying I don’t blame her.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Or me. Or whatever we are to each other.”
Princess Twilight extended her wings halfway. Getting mad doesn’t help anything.
“It keeps me from exploding.” Twilight adjusted her glasses with a glimmer of magic. “I think you can physically explode if you keep your feelings suppressed for too long.”
Princess Twilight let out a single, light laugh. It’s half-true.
Sunset sighed and gave her a small smile. “Because an out-of-control outburst does so much less damage.”
“That’s a rare occurrence, but…” Twilight waved a dismissive hoof. “Whatever. What do I know? I’m not the princess in the room.”
The princess in question shook her head and patted Sunset’s hoof. We should go back and see what Spike’s come up with. I got the schematics down and— Her pen trailed off. She held it above the page, her eyes flicking from one side to the other. I think I feel better. Just had to get over the shock, you know?
Sunset lifted the sheet of paper in her telekinetic grip. She raised an eyebrow as she surveyed the drawing. “Just needed time to get those gears turning?”
Something like that. Princess Twilight uncapped a cardboard tube with a satisfying pop. She gestured to it, and Sunset rolled the page up and slid it inside. The princess grabbed a marker from across the room, stuck her tongue out in thought, and then labeled the tube “Project New Song.”
She set the tube beside the desk, in an out-of-the-way corner. A flash of her horn dabbed a handkerchief against the corners of her eyes. She squared her hooves and set out at a snappy pace, Twilight and Sunset trailing behind.
Twilight leaned close to Sunset and whispered, “Did we just commiserate? She recovered awful quick.”
“She’s a resilient person, like you.” Sunset kept her voice low, but the princess’ ears still swiveled back to listen. “Always ready to bounce back, fists swinging.”
The three climbed on to the elevator. The princess tapped the button for the ground floor and settled back, her wings folded and a bright little smile on her face. Twilight switched her weight from one set of hooves to the other as silence filled the little crystalline room.
As they passed the fourth floor, Twilight leaned against the railing that lined the walls. Her hoof brushed against a hairy cheek. She scratched the spot, a grim frown crawling across her face. Did ponies have to shave? Did they have different summer and winter coats? She wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know.
But there was something she wanted to know, she remembered, recalling her little jaunt through the town. Maybe it would help break the ice. Maybe she and the princess would find something else in common. “So, how are you and Big Mac doing?”
The silence in the elevator hit a sour note.
Twilight sucked on the inside of her cheek. She turned her head slowly towards the other two ponies.
Princess Twilight Sparkle tilted her head. One ear flipped down, while the other twisted halfway around. Her lips came together and stretched to one side of her face. She studied Twilight’s face as if the little unicorn was a complex math problem begging to be solved.
Sunset Shimmer stared as well. Her eyes were wide, her mouth tiny. Her ears lay back against her mane. Twilight had seen that face before: On a deer in a semi-truck’s headlights.
Twilight cleared her throat.
Princess Twilight shook her head. What do you mean? What would we be doing?
“Er… are you guys doing anything? Together?” Twilight Sparkle reached up to her neck and fumbled with her shirt’s buttons. Since she was using her hooves, she made little headway in giving herself more room to breathe. “Like, say, hanging out? Spending time on the farm? Taking long walks on the beach? Complaining about life’s issues?” She bobbed her head from one side to the other, her voice coming out as a squeak. “Stuff like that?”
Sunset Shimmer let out a brief strangling sound.
Princess Twilight narrowed one eye. She shook her head with all the speed of a glacier. No. Why would we?
“You… Aren’t…” Twilight cringed from her head to her tail tip. “Together?”
The princess jumped back. She sprung into action, her pen flying across the page. No! No, heck no! I couldn’t do that to— He’s been married to Cheerilee for four years! They have a baby! No!
Sunset laid her head against the doors with a dull thud. She nearly fell over when they slid open.
A furiously-blushing princess marched off of the elevator with her tail hiked. She clomped her way through the halls, making a bee-line for the lab.
Twilight Sparkle balanced the note in her hooves, her eyes dry, her chest burning. She looked up to see Sunset flapping her mouth soundlessly.
“Huh?” Twilight said.
“I’m sorry, Twilight.” Sunset rested a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Yes, I did know. I just didn’t expect you to randomly bring it up like that—”
“It wasn’t random!” Twilight’s hooves shook. “It was so quiet in the elevator and I didn’t know what to say but I saw Big Mac in the market and I thought…” She coughed up phlegm, and then swallowed it back down. “He’s married?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Sunset leaned against the wall next to her and gave her a hug. “It’s a different Big Mac. He’s not the same person, so there’s no compar—”
“Yeah,” Twilight said firmly. “Different Big Mac. Different Twilight. Different…” She let the paper drop. “Oh, God. Different Cheerilee. What if he—”
“Twilight, it’s not worth worrying about.” Sunset Shimmer slapped herself in the face. “No, sorry. It’s not worth beating yourself up about.”
“Of course not!” Twilight flapped the note through the air with a flashing spell. “Why should I care that the only guy I’ve ever loved is married to another girl? It’s just an alternate universe! It’s not like anything that happens here could ever happen anywhere else!”
“Twilight, breathe!” Sunset Shimmer gripped Twilight’s shoulders. “Just take a deep breath and sort it o—”
Twilight Sparkle impaled the note on Sunset’s horn. She ground her teeth together. “Are there any other secrets you’re keeping from me because you’re afraid I’ll get upset? I’m getting just a little bit tired of them.”
Sunset wilted beneath the page. “I’m sorry.”
Twilight shrugged her coat higher on her shoulders. She trotted away, her head low. “Be glad you don’t have a double. It’s confusing as heck.”
***
Big Spike took up his nearly-comfortable position at the entrance to the laboratory. Little Spike had been stiff and silent the entire way, his jaw clamped shut. The others had followed suit, Rumble and Scootaloo keeping to the air while Apple Bloom stayed close by the younger dragon’s side.
Apple Bloom split away, edging close to Big Spike. She watched the others crowd around the magic scanner. “He don’t mean nothin’ personal, Big Spike.”
Big Spike’s eyes snapped to her position down below. “What do you mean?”
“He was just scared. This is somethin’ he’s been dealing with for a while, now.” Apple Bloom gave the dragon a thin smile. “Ever since he tried holdin’ the door for Sweetie and me and accidently pulled it right off its hinges. That was a few years ago.” Her bow danced merrily behind her mane as she spoke. “So don’t take it personal. He’s hard on himself, too. He just wants to keep everybody safe.”
Big Spike leveled his brow. He nodded. “I feel the same way. I don’t know what I would do if you guys got hurt. In either world.”
She giggled. “Speakin’ of which, what’s the other me like? Tell me she ain’t a grumpy old mare or somethin’ like that.”
“No, no, she’s still pretty young.” Big Spike grinned. “She’s bouncy, and happy. She talks a mile a minute and always has something to say. She’s always scratching me behind the ears, or sneaking me dog treats, or stuff like that.”
“Dog treats?” Apple Bloom blinked.
“Yeah. Didn’t Little Spike tell you that I’m a dog? Or was one?”
“Dog?” Apple Bloom hiccupped, a crazed smile zigzagging across her face. “‘Little Spike?’”
Big Spike tapped his claws to a beat in his head. “Yeah! We figured we need to use the nicknames to keep us separate until I head back. It takes away the confusion.”
Apple Bloom burst into deep, ringing belly-laughs. She flopped onto her back and held her sides tight, her legs kicking in the air.
Big Spike smiled. Then he grinned. Soon, he joined in the laughter. Together, they echoed across the laboratory, their voices drowning out the buzz of machinery.
Scootaloo and Rumble giggled up a storm, while Little Spike did his best to keep a straight face. It broke a moment later with a stuttering snort. “Okay,” Little Spike said, “I’ll admit. That is pretty funny.”
He pushed a button on the control panel. Information spewed from the machine in short spurts. He looked up at Rumble, who was coming in for a landing. “So what did the Royal Guard say? Are you in?”
Rumble let himself catch his breath before replying. He leaned against the side of the machine, spreading his wings out across its warm surface. “Yeah. I’m in. I’m shipping out at the end of next week, sailing straight up the coast.”
“Eastwind. That’s where Shining Armor trained.” Little Spike held his fist out, which Rumble met with a hoof-bump. “We’re proud of you, Rumble. All of us.”
“And we’ll be even more proud when you come back safe and sound,” Scootaloo said, gliding down and bumping the stallion’s shoulder. “Don’t get caught up in any adventures without me, you got it?”
“Aw.” Rumble cocked an eyebrow and gave her a lopsided grin. “Not even a little adventure?”
“Maybe a little one.” She angled her lavender wings back to glide upside-down through the air. “Just a little one, though. Don’t go getting yourself hurt.”
Apple Bloom bit down on the end of her tail. She halted just before she knocked over a microscope. “An’ you watch where you’re goin’,” Apple Bloom said. “Don’t need to go recreatin’ every fool thing Rainbow Dash ever did.”
Big Spike snapped his claws. “Just every cool thing she did?”
Rumble barked out a laugh. “He’s a Spike alright. That ‘wordplay’ was right up your alley, dude.”
“I’d argue with that,” Little Spike glanced up, “except he beat me by two seconds.”
“Uh huh.” Scootaloo let her legs dangle in the air while she hovered overhead. “You guys have a pretty sharp wit for a dog.”
The jocularity was broken by the quick, steady click-clack of hooves against crystal. Princess Twilight didn’t so much as send a nod Big Spike’s way when she entered the room. Her face sizzled with redness. Apple Bloom’s chipper “Hiyah, Twilight!” gave her a jolt. Her wings flared out and her eyes widened, like she hadn’t even seen the ponies gathered around the scanner.
She let out a low whoosh of breath. Hello, everypony. It’s good to see you. She ripped the page off of her notepad and floated it over to Apple Bloom’s waiting hoof. While Scootaloo and Rumble crowded behind her to read it, the princess went straight for the machine. Have we made any progress with locating the fragment? It the antenna working properly?
“Yeah, Twilight. It’s working fine. The scan’s already gone as far as Manehattan.” Little Spike waved a hand over the paper rolling out of the slot. “Nothing yet, but we’ll know when we find it.”
Keep me posted. She lifted her head in time to see Twilight enter the room, her face red and her eyes puffy. Are there still filters for the coffee machine?
At Spike’s nod, she cantered towards the back of the room, out of sight.
Twilight slumped to the ground beside Big Spike. He shuffled a little to the right, making a wider space between them. When she gave him a confused glance, he coughed. “I… um.. wouldn’t want to squish you. Accidently.”
“I’m sure you’re fine,” she said, laying her chin on the floor. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Big Spike scratched his claws against the floor. Then he tapped them. Then he pointed at the assembled ponies a few meters away. “We have company.”
Twilight opened her eyes with a groan. She swore underneath her breath.
“So that’s Rumble, she’s Scootaloo…” He watched her carefully as he gestured at the final pony. “And that one’s this world’s Apple Bloom.”
He had to admit, he expected a reaction, but not a full-bodied flinch. He spent a second wondering what he’d said wrong before she stood up, made her way to the ponies, and held out a hoof.
“My name is Twilight Sparkle,” she told them, “and I’m not the weirdest thing you’ve seen all day.”
Apple Bloom looked to Big Spike, then to Little Spike, before settling on Twilight. “Maybe not, but ah can’t say ah ain’t surprised. Nice to meet you.”
“Are there alternate versions of all of us?” Scootaloo asked, buzzing overhead. “How many are there? Is there, like, a universe where I’m a wonderbolt? Or maybe one where I’m some sort of freaky bipedal thing? Oho! How about one where we’re dinosaurs!”
Rumble flicked an ear. “Maybe there’s one where you’re a dog, too?”
“Oh ha, ha.” Scootaloo turned away from him and crossed her forelegs. “If so, I would be a greyhound.”
“Ah’d have guessed ‘Chihuahua.’” Apple Bloom shrugged one shoulder and looked down at the significantly-shorter Twilight. “You okay? You’re lookin’ a lil’ tired.”
“I’ll—” Twilight lifted her glasses and rubbed her face. “I’ll be fine. This is all just… a little confusing.”
Big Spike gripped his hands together. “Confusing and scary.”
Twilight met his eyes. She scrunched her muzzle. “You, too, huh?”
“Miss, um, Miss Twilight…” Rumble stood tall, his wings extended to a precise stance. “If there’s anything we can do to make your stay in Equestria more comfortable, just ask.”
“Darn tootin’!” Apple Bloom said.
“Right on,” Scootaloo agreed.
Big Spike looked at Twilight again. This time, they shared a small smile. She turned back to the ponies with a warm sigh. “Thank you,” Twilight said. “That… is a comfort.”
Something beeped.
All eyes shot to Little Spike, who shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t beep.”
When the sound hit again—a high-pitched, ear-grating wheep—their attention slowly crawled its way to the giant scanner dominating the room. It sounded again and again, getting higher and louder with each progression. Little Spike tore a sheet of paper from the chattering device and carried it to a nearby table. He scribbled down numbers and equations from the graph, lining them up against a handy map of Equestria. With a satisfied nod and a period, he lifted the page high.
“We’ve got her.”
***
Sunset Shimmer sighed beneath the page stuck to her horn. “Oh, God, I’ve become Celestia.”
She slid it up and over, her eyes combing the jagged lines Princess Twilight had put into the words. She crumpled the sheet up and tore little tiny pieces off, leaving them scattered across the floor. Limp hoof steps drew her along, making her way to that wondrous destination called the Castle Laboratory. “What’s next, Twilight? How about I tell you the story of how Shining’s a prince; married to Cadence, of all people. How about how one of your friends thinks of the laws of physics as being old-fashioned? What about the time you charged head-first into an army of shape-shifting monsters?”
She ran a hoof through her mane, which threatened to tangle itself into a massive bacon-colored mess. “But that wasn’t you. It was the princess. None of this is—”
Sunset groaned and snapped her mouth shut. She was talking to herself again. Out loud. She couldn’t help it if the stress got to her. She just needed to calm down and try not to think about how angry Twilight was. At her.
“Oh, God. I didn’t mean to keep secrets.”
She ran at a pace slightly slower than a gallop, just to give herself time to think of what to say. She needed to say something. Some sort of apology that wouldn’t just come off as dismissing Twilight’s feelings. Something that wasn’t just saying “I’m sorry, but I was right all along.” Something not stupid.
Was she sorry?
She moved alongside Big Spike’s tail. She was getting close. “I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t want to make you mad. Anything but that.”
She didn’t want Twilight mad at her. Not that mad. The last time somebody was that mad at her, they didn’t talk to each other for almost five years. Even then, they only spoke at parties they attended together. She didn’t want Twilight to end up like—
“Scootaloo!” Apple Bloom shouted. “Ah warned you about lookin’ where you were goin’!”
—her foster sister.
Sunset Shimmer froze in place beneath the arch. She saw a short pegasus mare fly overhead, a devil-may-care grin on her face, spiraling on purple wings. Sunset nearly fell onto her back.
She jerked to the side as a cloud of green smoke billowed past. She traced it back to its origin: Little Spike using his enchanted fire breath to send messages. He huffed and puffed, sending messages as fast as Princess Twilight could write them.
“Howdy, ma’am,” a tall mare said from the right. She rose head-and-shoulders above the unicorn, her strong limbs making Sunset’s toned legs look like twigs. “Name’s Apple Bloom. Ah might be mistaken, but ah don’t think we’ve been introduced. ’Least not in this world.”
“S-Sunset Shimmer. I’m a friend of Twilight’s.” Sunset waved a hoof across the room. “Both of them.”
“Neat.” Apple Bloom smiled. “Ah’ll admit ah ain’t heard much about yah, but any friend of Twilight’s is a friend of mine.”
“Thanks.” Sunset just hoped it stayed that way.
Scootaloo dropped to the ground. Sunset jumped. “Hay,” Scootaloo said. “I heard you guys are headed to Fillydelphia.”
Sunset was only able to squeak out one word. “Fillydelphia?”
“Yeah.” Scootaloo’s familiar purple mane waved as she fluttered her wings. “Normally, I wouldn’t count that as super-exciting, but you are tracking down a dangerous fugitive fish-monster. It evens out.”
Sunset tried and failed to take her eyes off Scootaloo. “It’s pretty crazy no matter which way you slice it, Kid.”
Scootaloo lowered her ears. “Yeah. I guess so.” She squinted. “Do I know you from somewhere?”
“Probably not?” Sunset shrugged.
“It’s just that my dad always calls me ‘Kid.’ You sounded just like him.” Scootaloo rubbed her chin. “You’re not related to a Davenport by any chance, are you?”
“N-not that I know of.”
“’Kay. Funny coincidence, then.” Scootaloo’s head popped up. Rumble waved her over to the maps with a gray wing. “’Scuse me. See yah later.”
“Bye.” Sunset blew a long breath between her lips. She turned to say something to Apple Bloom, but the mare had already walked over to speak with Big Spike. She nibbled her lip and sat where she stood.
She felt a presence at her side. “I’m not the only one you keep things from, huh?”
Sunset turned so fast that her mane flipped over her face. She hurriedly brushed it out of her way, revealing the sour expression on Twilight’s face. A cough lead the way for a sentence, “Only when they hurt.”
Twilight gave her a light scowl, which faded quickly. It was replaced with a loose, tired sigh. “Better get your stuff together. The princess wants to move out pretty quickly.”
Sunset bowed her head. A flash from her horn brought the journal from its resting place on a nearby table. She clutched the link between worlds to her chest. “I’m ready. I guess.”