//------------------------------// // Chapter 30: Resonance // Story: Harmony Theory // by Sharaloth //------------------------------// The connection between the Elements and their Bearers, as well as between the Bearers themselves, is permanent once they have gone through a Harmony Event together. By permanent, I mean that it cannot be broken, removed, altered or lessened by any force in existence. Not even the Elements themselves can change this, the reasons for which will be made clear in a later section of this book. This permanent bond is part of what makes it so easy to detect the connections between Bearers post-Event. These bonds emit a kind of resonance, a constant feedback loop of energy between the Bearers and the Elements. With the proper application of magic this resonance becomes clear for anypony who cares to look for it. It cannot be broken, but it can be, for lack of a better term, strummed. Discovering this resonance has made positive identification of my friends much easier in cases of illusion magic or Changeling infiltration. I am also happy to say it works just as well with Proxy Bearers, including a slightly different quality to the resonance that distinguishes them from True Bearers. There may be other effects that result from such literally unbreakable bonds, but thus far I have been unable to discern them. -From the fifth section of Harmony Theory by Twilight Sparkle Chapter Thirty: Resonance The screaming clouds of the Everstorm fell away behind Star Fall, revealing a still forest, the leaves of the trees edged in the light of the pre-dawn glow. She stumbled as she walked into that almost dream-like scene, the transition between the Storm and the rest of the world–always disorienting–somehow worse than ever. The encounter with the Nightmare had hurt her, and she had a lot of thinking to do before she could put it behind her. Her protective spell-sheet burst into flames as she lost control of the magic she was feeding into it. Her companions were, fortunately, already exiting the Storm, and the loss of her protection didn’t harm them. She heard them behind her, but couldn’t focus on their voices. She stood still for a long moment, trying to keep control of her breathing as a pit of hunger opened up within her. She needed food, and fast. Her vision doubled for a moment, forcing her to blink hard until it resolved into one image again. She tried to move, but she felt her knees begin to give way. She locked her legs out straight, keeping upright through stubborn force of will. An orange face swam through the dizzying world to look her in the eye. “You okay there, sugarcube?” Star Fall shook her head, an ill-advised motion as it turned out. Everything tilted for a moment, and then Applejack’s hoof was on her shoulder, steadying her. “Come on, you need a good sit-down.” “No,” Star Fall mumbled, attempting, and failing, to brush Applejack’s hoof away. Her ears swiveled as she heard the piercing sound of Astrid’s angry voice. “What’s happening? Why are they shouting?” Applejack frowned. “‘Cause they’re both a pair of hotheads who can’t let a thing lie while their friend’s in trouble, that’s why.” Star Fall turned and saw Astrid and Rainbow Dash facing each other just at the edge of the Storm. Both of them had their wings wide and aggressive. Dash had her forelegs bent low to the ground, as if ready to charge or take flight, and Astrid was reared back, her talons spread on the ground. “And I still want to know what the hell were you thinking!” Astrid snarled, snapping her beak in fury. “I told you!” Dash snapped back. “She was gonna kill Twilight! I couldn’t just stand there and watch it happen!” “So you just decide to run at her like an idiot?” Astrid scoffed. “Yeah, why not go supersonic right next to normal people in a place that is actively trying to kill them? Sounds reasonable to me!” “It was my friend, Astrid!” “It was a fucking statue!” Astrid roared. “So was I!” Astrid opened her beak to respond, but after a moment just let out an angry huff and backed off. As soon as she did, Dash’s wings drooped and her pained eyes fell to the forest floor. “I’m sorry,” Dash said. “I didn’t think–” “Yeah, I got that,” Astrid interrupted. “You have to be more careful! A stunt like that…” She paused to shake her head and growl. “It was like a grenade going off, Dash. Do you know what that does to people?” “No, I don’t.” Dash folded her wings, turning away from Astrid. “Look, I know I screwed up, alright? I want to make it better. What do I do?” “You use your fucking head next time!” Astrid snapped. “Astrid!” Star Fall said. She stepped between the two, trying to use her wings to move her faster. That turned out to be another mistake, as the energy she used for the few feeble flaps she managed ate more deeply into her reserves of strength than she would have imagined. Still, she persevered. “Stop it, both of you. Astrid, Dash knows what she did wrong. You don’t need to keep attacking her over it. Not now. Dash, I know why you did it. I understand what you were feeling. But you should have known it wouldn’t work.” She took a deep breath, her thoughts beginning to fall apart at the edges. “There was nothing any of us could have done to prevent what Umbra did. It’s painfully obvious to me that every time we’ve fought her, she’s let us win.” “But Star–” Dash began, but Star Fall cut her off. “No. She’s playing with us.” Star Fall fought back the painful hunger and the soul-deep weariness to keep her train of thought going. “She’s using us as part of whatever her plan is.” “How can you be sure?” Astrid asked. “If it was just Umbra, I wouldn’t be. I’d still be thinking of her as a dark Goddess, ineffable in her designs. Now, though – Now I know that the Professor is in there too, and she’s not just some puppet of Umbra’s. She might be part of the Nightmare, but she’s still a pony at heart. A pony I know. She doesn’t do things without meaning. She could have destroyed that statue at any time, but she waited for us. She wanted us to see the statue destroyed.” A thought occurred to her, implications spinning off farther than her tired mind could follow. “No, not just the statue. The Element. She wanted us to know without a doubt that the Elements could not be used.” “But why?” Applejack asked. Star Fall was surprised to find the earth pony at her side, still helping to keep her upright. She hadn’t even noticed Applejack moving with her. She looked pensive, her gaze turned inward. In any other pony Star Fall would have been worried about their exposure to the Eye and what it could do to someone’s mind. For Applejack and Rainbow Dash, however, she didn’t think it was an issue. “I don’t know,” Star Fall replied. She tried to stand on her own, but her legs failed her. Applejack caught her again before she could fall, and this time let her slowly sink down to lie on the ground. There were shoots of grass sticking out of that ground in a few places, and Star Fall had to resist the urge to start chomping on them. “Whoa! Star, are you alright?” Dash asked, eyes wide as she recognized her fellow pegasus’ exhaustion. “Just tired,” Star Fall replied. “Gonna sit down for a bit.” She sucked in a deep breath and grabbed the thread of thought that had nearly gotten away from her. “Umbra. Maybe she wanted us to focus more on her and less on Cash. If we think he can’t get the full set of Elements, he becomes less of a threat.” “We’re not going to do that,” Dash said. “No,” Star Fall agreed. “In fact, I think he could be even more dangerous now that he can’t get whatever it is he wants. He’ll be like a cornered rat. He’ll bite.” “Maybe it was about Twilight,” Applejack offered absently as she looked over Star Fall. “I don’t think so,” Star Fall replied. “Umbra knows as well as I do that Twilight is alive in the Deep Power. If Cash had managed to get the Element of Magic from the statue, I don’t know what would happen. We still don’t know anything about how the three of you were brought back in the first place. It could have created a… a clone of Twilight Sparkle, or it could have summoned her from out of the Deep Power, or it could have done nothing at all. I can’t even guess. I can’t… think through all these maybes. Whatever could have happened, it doesn’t stop Twilight from coming back on her own. I think it was about the Element. We had to see it destroyed.” “What if it wasn’t the real Element?” Dash asked. Star Fall tried to give a tired shrug, but the motion was barely a twitch from her shoulders. “It could be. Spike seemed to think that all the statues had the actual Elements on them, Twilight’s included. It’s not impossible that Umbra switched the Element of Magic with a fake. I don’t think so, though. The Professor might have tried something like that, but I don’t think Umbra would go for a half-measure. I think that was all real.” “Me too,” Applejack said. She gave an apologetic look to Rainbow Dash. “Sorry, sugarcube, but that seemed an awful lot like the real Element to me.” “We… we need to keep going as we are. We need to assume that it wasn’t a fake,” Star Fall said. Her vision blurred again, and this time blinking didn’t help right the scene. “We need to decide if that changes our plans at all.” “No fucking way it does,” Astrid said. “Umbra wants to play games with us? Fine. She’s on the list of shit to deal with right below Cash.” “Yeah.” Dash nodded along with Astrid’s pronouncement. “He’s gotta go first.” Applejack just shrugged, accepting whatever the rest of them decided. “Okay,” Star Fall said. “Okay. Good. We take out Cash, then worry about what the Nightmare is trying to do. Sounds great to me.” She lay her head on the ground, thoughts drifting apart. “Astrid.” “You passing out on me, Fall?” Astrid asked. “Screw you, Astrid,” she mumbled back. “Need food. Rest. Make sure…” She didn’t get the last of her sentence out before unconsciousness claimed her. *** The first thing Charisma noticed was the steady machine beeping that was coming from somewhere close to her left ear. It invaded the calm blank of unconsciousness and forced her mind to surface. The second thing she noticed was the pleasant, numb blanket that covered her senses. She could tell that she was hurt, and badly, but the pain wasn’t reaching her. She’d experienced a similar sensation only infrequently, but enough to understand that she was drugged with some kind of opiate. Morphine, most likely. Her body rocked, the motion jarring, sudden. She tried to analyze it, but her thoughts were slow. The movement did alert her to the fact that there was something reaching through her mouth and down her throat. A moment of panic made its way through the drugged haze, but she managed to quash it. She was breathing fine, there was no need to struggle yet. She could have opened her eyes, but they felt gummed up and resisted her first, feeble efforts. Instead she listened to the voices that were speaking, picking them out from the beeping of the machine and a background rumble that reminded her of a Republics highway. “This really isn’t good enough.” That voice was Max Cash. He sounded mildly annoyed, which meant he was furious about something. “I need her on her hooves.” “Mr. Cash, that’s just not possible.” She didn’t recognize this voice, but he spoke with a calm, arrogant authority that reminded her of Agent Gamma. “She’s lucky enough to be alive at all.” “Come on, Doc, just give her a shot of the old magic touch,” Cash said. “You’re supposed to be good at that.” “I am,” the doctor replied. “But whoever you got to work on her before wasn’t. In fact, their inexpert use of healing magic is already killing her. I can probably save her life, but it will take months of treatment and a decade of follow-up at least. As it is, she’s going to lose the leg no matter what I do. Worse, if I heal the rest of her back to peak condition, it will only accelerate the cancer.” “You know, you’re saying a lot of words there, but I’m not hearing the important ones,” Cash said with an amiable chuckle. “And what would those be?” the doctor asked, though from his tone he was reaching the end of his patience. “‘Yes, Mr. Cash, I’ll heal her right up!’” The doctor sighed. “I can’t do the impossible.” There was a moment of silence before Cash spoke again. “Fortunately, Doc, I can.” She felt a touch on the side of her face. “Come on, Charisma. Rise and shine.” She didn’t want to respond. Her Talent sluggishly demanded that she bite the hoof touching her and try to rip open a vein or something. “I know you’re listening,” Cash said, pressing harder. “Wakey-wakey.” Finally, she forced her eyes open and glared at Cash as he leaned over her. “There we go!” He grinned at her, and she could see the puffy bruises and blood marring his coat. She’d never seen him hurt before. She’d imagined that it would make him more equine, less strange and monstrous. She’d been wrong, it just accentuated the incongruity of his smile and the evil gleam in his eyes. She looked around, and found herself in what appeared to be the back of an ambulance. The doctor was a pastel-yellow unicorn stallion whose flank proclaimed his Healing Talent. A thick tube went from a whirring machine down her throat, and wires led from the beeping machine to sticky pads that were affixed to her body. She rocked again, and she finally placed the roaring sound as an engine working hard. They were on the move. She lifted a hoof, an incredible chore for her numb body, and pawed at the air tube. Cash turned to the doctor. “She need that?” “Not as long as she’s conscious,” the doctor replied. Then he reached over her and gently pulled the tube out. Charisma coughed and sputtered as she became responsible for sucking in her own air again. When she’d got her breath back, she looked back to Cash. “How’d it go?” she asked in a hoarse whisper. “Not good,” he said. “You didn’t get it?” He shook his head. “Nope. Got close, then pow! Got blindsided.” He chuckled again. “Never expected Detective Hard Boiled to get so cozy with a Changeling. Go figure, huh?” “I’d expected you to be… more angry.” “Oh, I’m pretty angry,” he said, then winked. “At myself. I was so preoccupied with part A of what I had to do, I didn’t really think as far as part B. But, hey, we’ve both screwed up recently. I figure if I can forgive you, then I can forgive myself as well.” “You haven’t forgiven me,” she said. She wasn’t sure why she said it, but it felt true to her. “Oh?” He shrugged. “Well, I guess that’s that then.” He glanced over her body. She couldn’t move her head to see, but she knew what kind of shape it had been in when she’d passed out. “The Doc here says you’re in a bad way.” “I heard,” she replied. “You gonna let him bring you down like that?” She frowned at him. “Max. I know how hurt I am. There’s… no way to come back from this. That’s just… a fact.” His smile widened into a manic rictus. “Except you don’t believe that.” She paused, evaluating his words. It might have been the drugs, it might have been shock, or denial, but she really didn’t believe it. “No.” He gave her a knowing nod. “No indeed. Now, Charisma, you’ve been giving me a lot of trouble lately. I am this close to just chucking you out the back of the truck and taking my chances. If you were any other mare, I’d have already done it. Do you know why I haven’t?” “You… need me,” she said. “I need you.” He gave her nose a light poke. “Exactly right.” She swallowed hard. “You’re going to kill me,” she said, the words slipping out in drugged honesty. “For one of the Elements.” His smile twitched, as if it was a half-second from turning into an ugly snarl. “Thought about it,” he said. “But even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t work. You see.” He bent low to whisper in her ear. “You’re not the cruelest pony I know.” The words prompted a shiver from her. “Then… why?” “Because I saw Rarity at Birchfield’s mansion,” Cash said. “Another of those ancient heroes you’ve probably never heard of.” “The super-unicorn,” Charisma reasoned. “She is super, isn’t she?” he said with a laugh. “If both her and Rainbow Dash are back, who knows how many of the others are too? They’ll be coming after me, and I can all but guarantee you they’ll be there when we make it to Fluttershy’s statue. I can’t do what I need to do and fight them off at the same time. So that’s where you come in.” “You want me… to fight.” “It’s what you’re good at,” he said, his horn lighting with a magenta glow that made her blink in the sudden glare. “I didn’t want to have to do this. In fact, it really makes the next part of my plan so much harder. But, hey, why do things the easy way when you can make it really, really complicated instead?” His saddlebag opened and a necklace floated out. The red lightning bolt caught her attention immediately, and held it fast. Her heart sped, the beeping of the machine accelerating with it, a quickening tempo that ran counter to the sensation of time slowing down as she reached for the necklace. “So what do you say?” Cash asked, floating the Element towards her. “Are you loyal enough to take on that responsibility?” “Yes,” she said. With a subtle click, Cash fastened the Element around her neck. She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the gem on her chest. It felt warm, and it sent an electric tingle through her body. She took another breath, feeling her thoughts clear as if she was coming out of a fog. The pain hit her like a club, but she snarled and bit down on a scream. “What did you do?” the doctor asked, pushing Cash aside as he rushed to examine her. “Probably screwed myself over,” Cash said, and sighed. “But at this point it’s all a crapshoot anyway, so why not?” “The morphine’s being flushed out of her system!” the doctor said, his horn flashing with a sparkly blue light that matched his shocked eyes. “What?! Her… her tissues are regenerating! What is this?” “A side benefit,” Cash said, waving a hoof as if the doctor’s question was inconsequential. “There’s a bunch of them. Which, by the way, Charisma, you’re going to have to learn to use real quick. We don’t have time to waste on the usual learn-at-your-own-pace stuff.” “Got it,” Charisma hissed through clenched teeth. “This is impossible!” the doctor cried, looking wildly between her and Cash. “You might want to start the healing magic, Doc,” Cash said. “I think you’ll find that she can keep her leg, now.” “I…” he trailed off, using his magic to do another scan of her body. “I… can’t believe it. Luna’s night comfort me, this can’t be happening.” “Doc!” Cash said, a touch of annoyed urgency in his voice. “Trust me, you do not want me to make you start working.” “But… without anaesthesia... “ She reached out and grabbed the doctor’s face between her forehooves. “Do it,” she growled. “The pain is going to be–” “Do it,” she repeated. Then she let him go and grabbed the discarded air tube, shoving it between her teeth and biting down. The doctor gave her a long, terrified look, then visibly focused himself and lit his horn with a brilliant magical glare. “Hold her down,” he told Cash, who quickly created bands of restraining magic. “Here we go.” *** Hard Boiled looked out from the ruined door of Senator Birchfield’s mansion and watched as the last truck filled with bodies rolled off down the street in the early morning light. Most of the bodies were those of Cash’s soldiers, and he said a quiet prayer of thanks to Luna for that small mercy. Still, there were far too many ponies in OCPD uniforms among the fallen. People he’d known and worked with for years, dead because one madpony wanted a necklace. The van had been pulled out of the doorway hours ago, leaving a gaping hole through which he could see the disaster area outside. From this vantage Orion City looked shaken by the events of the night, but was recovering with speed. Streetlights flickered on and then dimmed as the power grid was slowly restored. New barriers of thick canvas blocked the street from those who tried to catch a glimpse of the scene of the massacre, of whom there were many. The sounds of traffic and the voices of thousands of people came from beyond those barriers, giving a backdrop of normalcy that helped to settle the stomach-tightening nerves left after combat. He clamped his mouth shut and stifled a yawn as he turned away from the scene outside. There were half a dozen ponies standing about the foyer. One was Barry, who had managed to make it through the melee without so much as a scratch. Three others were the obligatory team of crime scene technicians, who were huddled together with their heads down as they discussed the evidence they had found, trying to piece together what had happened here. He didn’t know what they would eventually report to headquarters, but he was sure it wouldn’t bear more than a passing resemblance to the truth. One of the reasons for that discrepancy was currently in her yellow earth pony shape, though wearing an OCPD uniform to blend in. She sauntered over to him like a satiated cat. The way she eyed him from snout to flank was just as predatory as ever, but now it was tempered by the honest connection they had formed. “You look exhausted,” she said as soon as she could without the others in the room hearing. “You need to get some sleep.” “Tell me about it,” he said, rubbing at his eyes. “My head feels like I’ve got lead weights hanging off my horn. How about you? You’ve been running for as long as I have, you’ve got to be feeling it too.” She gave him a small smirk. “Sleep deprivation training. I’ll be good for hours longer than you will.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I’m worried about Cash making another grab for the necklace while you’re not on your game. I’m going to give you a boost.” “What kind?” “Just a jolt of excitement. Like drinking four cups of coffee or a shot of adrenaline.” “How long will it last?” She shrugged. “As long as I keep it going. It will make you tired faster, but you won’t feel it until you hit your limits. Straff’s on his way with an RIA security detail, once they take over here we can get you to a bed so you can sleep.” He grunted in response, thinking about her offer. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think Cash will try anything. Not yet. Save it for when we really need it.” “If you want,” Traduce said. “But if things get crazy, I might not get the chance.” HB accepted that with a slow nod. Barry walked over to join them. His ears were twitching at every sound, his gaze jumping from point to point in nervous jerks. HB didn’t need his magic to see everything that crossed the traitorous detective’s mind as clear as day. “The, uh, the techs say they’re done,” he said. He stared at HB, carefully not looking at Traduce for more than a split-second glance. “Should we be sticking around? I mean, the Senator’s gonna get out of the hospital soon, and he’s gonna want his house back.” “Not yet,” HB replied. “If Birchfield shows up, he’ll have to wait.” “This is the same guy who was threatening to shut the SIU down ‘cause you didn’t talk to him,” Barry said. “I don’t think he’s gonna like that.” “Tough luck for him,” HB said. He looked over Barry’s shoulder to the statue that still stood in the center of the foyer. “I’m verifying some testimony.” Barry followed his gaze. He could see the statue now, everyone could. Hard Boiled didn’t know if that meant anything, and he was still very skeptical about what Calumn and Spike had told him about the origins of Rarity and her fellow impossible mares. Barry didn’t know about that, of course, but he knew that there was something off about the statue. “Heads up,” Traduce said, pointing a hoof out the door. “Looks like the Director is early.” When HB turned to look, he found that Straff was already picking his way along the broken and blood-stained walkway to the door. A small legion of dark-suited ponies fanned out behind him, taking charge by sheer weight of numbers. Barry backed off as the Director approached, swallowing heavily and trying to be unnoticeable. Straff’s intense blue eyes found the cringing detective anyways, lingering just long enough to remind Barry that Straff had not forgotten about him. Then those eyes turned on Hard Boiled, and the barest sketch of a smile found its way onto the Director’s pale lips. “You have the necklace?” Hard Boiled nodded. It was stashed in one of his pockets, its strange weight impossible to ignore. “Excellent work, Lieutenant. You will have to hold on to it until I find someplace I can trust to keep it safe. Rest assured that I will not leave you with such a burden for long. I also offer my most sincere congratulations. Your actions here have given us our first major victory against Max Cash.” “This wasn’t a victory,” Hard Boiled replied, thinking of all the bodies that had so recently littered the street. “This was a fucking disaster.” “On the contrary,” Director Straff said, exuding a cool composure that the detective could practically feel. Traduce gave a small sound, and through their link HB could feel her agreement with Straff. “You have the Element. Cash was foiled. Considering the forces he brought to bear here, that alone is worth celebration.” “More than a dozen cops dead,” HB said with a restrained growl. “Twenty-three more seriously injured. That’s not even counting how many were hurt when they bombed headquarters and the power plant.” He shook his head. “I’m in no mood for celebration.” “Neither am I, Detective,” Straff said. “Cash escaped, and still holds enough power to do irreparable damage to the Republics. However, we should not let the dire situation blind us to our victories.” HB rounded on the pale unicorn. He knew what the Director had said was right, but he also knew that it was backed by a callousness that infuriated him. “Do the ponies who gave their lives for that victory mean nothing to you?” he demanded. “People died last night, Straff. A lot of them my colleagues. My friends. They are a whole lot more important than a fucking necklace!” Straff quirked an eyebrow, but betrayed no other emotion. “In this case, Lieutenant, no, they are not. I think you know that. I’m sure you had the importance of the Elements explained to you.” “I’ve had a lot of crap ‘explained’ to me. I don’t believe half of it. Not yet.” Straff paused for a moment, and when he spoke again it was in a low tone that conveyed the barest slivers of actual sympathy. “I do understand how you feel, detective. I’ve lost friends in the line of duty too. Unlike your fellow police, however, the friends I’ve lost will never have a stone to mark their grave, or a funeral of weeping ponies to commemorate them. Also unlike me, you are an officer of the peace. Your job is to seek justice for wrongs and prevent anyone from suffering violence such as what happened here. The deaths of your fellow officers were not just, and because you led them to it you feel that their sacrifice was similarly unjustified.” HB let out a sigh, turning away from the Director, who continued in the same subdued tone. “My perspective is, by necessity, a wider one. I am concerned not with the safety of citizens as individuals, but with the welfare of the nation as a whole. To stop Cash from gaining another Element, I find the sacrifice of a hoofful of ponies to be a bargain of great value. Use your magic if you must, see the truth of what I am saying. Then trust me that your actions here were absolutely warranted. Grieve for their loss, Lieutenant, but don’t make the mistake of thinking their deaths were somehow wrong. They did their duty, let them keep their honor.” HB said nothing, looking at the floor. “It’s just a damn necklace,” he growled. “The statue hasn’t even–” he stopped as his eyes tracked up to the empty space where the pink statue had just been standing. All that was left was the plinth it had stood on. “Where’s the statue?” he asked. Traduce’s eyes widened with shock as she turned to follow his gaze. Her mouth dropped open and her brows drew down in confusion as she saw what he had. “It’s gone!” “Nobody move!” Straff roared, bringing all eyes to him. “We have a visitor.” HB turned back to Straff, and found himself staring into the brilliant blue eyes of a very pink pony. “Hi!” she squeaked in a voice that hit pitches that could be painful to sensitive ears. He jumped in surprise, as did Straff, Traduce and Barry. The mare had somehow gotten right in the middle of them without any of them noticing. “This looks like a construction site, and you look like a big grumpy pants, and that usually means you’re in charge, so can you tell me where I am, and how I got here, and who they are, and which way to Ponyville? Because, wow, I am so lost!” He hadn’t understood a word of that. From the looks on Traduce and Straff’s faces, neither had they. He eased down from his shocked posture, his horn flickering to life as he called upon his magic to find the truth of what the mare was saying. “Could you, um, repeat all of that?” he asked. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” the pony gasped, bouncing on the spot with her eyes growing as big as saucers. Each tiny leap was accompanied by a noise that was very similar to the sound a spring made in radio plays and comedy movies. “Are we playing a gibberish game? I love gibberish games!” She leaned close to HB, polishing a hoof on her coat and examining it with exaggerated casualness. “I have to warn you, though, I’m fluent in gibberese.” She leapt up, turning a reverse somersault in the air before coming down on her back hooves, her forelegs thrown wide. “Wibbleparf! Crabusnifular! Fantabirific! How am I doing?” “Lieutenant, a translation?” Straff prompted, watching the pink mare with an expression halfway between confusion and concern. “I think she’s… excited to meet us?” He shook his head. “It’s really confusing. Some of what she said there was like hitting a wall. There was no truth for my magic to find.” “Traduce?” The Changeling twitched. “I’m feeling excitement, happiness, mild confusion, and now she’s feeling… impressed? It’s like she’s on amphetamines, emotions jumping around faster than I can keep track of.” The mare let out an appreciative whistle. “Wow. You guys are champs! It’s like you’re having a real conversation. I’m gonna have to step up my game.” She took in a deep breath, her body swelling up to more than twice its normal size. Then she stopped and let out a small giggle. “Oh, wait. Priorities, Pinkie!” With a ripple of muscle the air in her chest was forced into her head, which expanded like a balloon for a moment before deflating, her ears flapping as the air was forced out through them. The sound she made was the squealing, rubbery flatulence of a deflating balloon as well, only adding to the paralyzing horror Hard Boiled experienced as he watched. With her head back in its proper shape, she grinned widely at them. “I’d love to join in, but I really do need to know where I am. I’m supposed to be working the counter at Sugarcube Corner this morning, and my friends are gonna get worried if I’m not there to give them their morning dose of Pinkie Pie! Which is me! I’m Pinkie! Hi!” Hard Boiled stared back at her with his mouth hanging open. His magic hadn’t picked out any sort of illusion or lie in what he had just seen. It was all real. The rest of the people in the room were in a similar state of shock. Straff looked like he’d just swallowed something that wriggled on the way down. Traduce had a hoof to her mouth, throat working as she swallowed back the rising bile. Barry was shaking like a leaf, his service pistol held in his mouth and pointed at the pink mare. Hard Boiled shuddered, trying to throw off the disconcerting strangeness of the mare. Once he’d got his initial reactions under control, he found that his magic had at least given him something to work with. “Pinkie Pie,” he said, catching the attention of the others. “Her name is Pinkie Pie, and she doesn’t know where she is.” “Wait, that was my name!” Pinkie said, bouncing again. She stopped, in mid-air, and took in a huge gasp. “You’re not playing gibberish at all! You’re speaking another language and it only sounds like gibberish!” She dropped back to the floor, her smile changed to a deeply contemplative expression. “I must be in another country! How much punch did I drink last night? I’ve never ended up in another country before. Usually I just wake up with a lampshade on my head.” “What. The hell. Is she?” Barry mumbled around the grip of his pistol. Sweat glistened on his coat, and his breath was coming in short, terrified bursts. “Keep it together, Barry,” HB said, but paid little attention to the other detective. “I think she’s figured out she’s not in her Equestria anymore. Director, we are going to need someone who speaks whatever language this is, and fast. I don’t think I’ll be able to keep up here, and while I might be able to understand her, I’ve got no way to make her understand us.” Straff nodded. “That shouldn’t be an issue. If Spike and Rarity aren’t able to be discharged from the hospital, I can always bring in a linguist from the University. Either of those options will take time, however. We need to contain her until then.” “I can help with that,” Traduce said, though HB could sense that she would prefer not volunteering. “With your permission, sir?” Straff tilted his head in assent and she stepped close to Pinkie Pie, reaching out with a hoof to touch the side of the strange mare’s head. Pinkie didn’t flinch or pull back from the contact, not seeming to mind it at all. “Don’t be frightened,” she said, using her tone to convey the message more than the words. “I won’t hurt you, okay?” She smiled, and Pinkie smiled back. “I just need to make a connection.” Traduce’s eyes lit with an eerie green glow. “You seem nice,” Pinkie squeaked. “A little touchy, though. And I think there’s something really wrong with your eyes, like radioactive pink-eye wrong. You should think about getting that checked out.” “Sleep,” Traduce intoned. “Nap time!” Pinkie screamed out, making all of them jump, before falling flat on her face and beginning to snore. Traduce staggered back. “She’s… her power… I don’t...” She fell to the floor, shaking. “I’ve never felt anything like that before. She was just… exploding with energy.” She shook her head. Then a frown crossed her face and she dragged her tongue across her teeth a few times. “And now everything tastes like cotton candy.” “What was that?” HB demanded of no one in particular. “I know these… living statues, heroes from the past, whatever they are. I know they’re impossible mares, but there’s impossible and then there’s that.” “I wish I knew, detective,” Straff said, shaking his head in stunned bewilderment. Then his expression sobered. “We need to contain this. So far what we’ve seen is going to be laughed off, but enough stories will be circulating that the wrong people will start asking questions.” “Got it,” HB said. Straff turned to the door, calling over one of his agents and having a short, quiet conversation with him. HB looked over to the crime scene ponies, who were staring at Pinkie with undisguised fear. “You three!” he called out to them. “None of this gets out, understand? This is national-security level stuff you’ve seen. I don’t want to hear any crazy stories going around headquarters tomorrow.” They all gave nods of varying honesty, but it was enough to satisfy him that they would at least wait a while before talking, so he jerked his head at the door to let them know they could leave. He turned his attention back to Straff. The Director was frowning, and while the conversation was too quiet to hear, his magic picked up their lip movements easily. “Why wasn’t I informed of this earlier?” he was saying. “Director Broker took charge of the situation, sir,” the agent replied. “He’s got a strike and containment team on the way already.” “Damn it, why now of all times?” Straff snarled through gritted teeth. “We need to get ahead of this disaster. Gather a rapid response team, tell them I’ll be leading it personally. Also, I need Nemesis with us. Take every precaution with her. If she sees even the slightest weakness, she will exploit it.” The agent rushed off to carry out his orders, and Straff turned to HB. “Something has come up. You’ll get your translator soon, but I need to leave you in charge here. My people know to follow your orders.” “What’s happened? Who’s Nemesis?” HB asked. “‘Nemesis’ is a code-name for a dangerous individual who recently came into RIA custody,” Straff replied, a truth that didn’t tell him much of anything. “As to what has happened, well…” He looked down at the slumbering Pinkie Pie. “One way or another, you will know soon enough. Good luck, Lieutenant. Keep that one safe, she just might be one of the most important ponies in the world right now.” With that, he turned and left at a trot, shouting for a couple of agents to join him as he rushed to deal with whatever potential catastrophe had turned up. HB walked over to Traduce and sat down next to her. She was taking slow breaths, but he could see the pulse jumping at her throat and the little twitches of nervous energy in her hooves and ears. “It never rains,” she said, giving him a wan smile. He smiled back. “But it pours,” he finished the quote. “I ever tell you how much I hate this cloak and dagger crap?” She laughed at that, and he laughed with her. “Aww, you two are so cute!” The laughter froze in their throats, their eyes going to Pinkie Pie, who was watching them with her head cradled in her hooves and her back legs up and kicking in the air. Her blue eyes sparkled over a warm smile. Suddenly she shot upright, her entire body vibrating like someone was shaking her up and down. When the shaking stopped, her smile was replaced by a shocked expression. “A doozy!” she said. “Oh-my-gosh-oh-my-gosh! It’s a doozy!” She vibrated again, the motion distinct in its abnormality. She reached out, gathering HB and Traduce up in forelegs that for a moment seemed like they had stretched out from more than a meter away to reach around them. “Guys! I’ve really got to find my friends! Something big is happening!” There was a thunderous bang, and then a deafening silence. Pinkie jerked, then let Hard Boiled and Traduce go. HB looked over to see Barry, the barrel of his gun smoking from the shot, his eyes wild with fear. He then looked back to Pinkie, who was looking down at the neat little hole in her side that dribbled a line of blood that stained her pink coat. “Ow,” she said. The quiet sound of hurt recognizable in any language. “Barry! Drop the gun!” HB roared. Barry did so, but his eyes were still glued to Pinkie. Hard Boiled looked back to Pinkie, and he could see the surprise and pain twisting her features. He could also see her confusion, and a sudden apprehension. She’d trusted them before, even if she didn’t know who they were. Now? Now she was likely reconsidering that trust. “He didn’t mean it,” HB said. He tried to convey the meaning in his body language, but knew that he was failing. “You’ll be okay, we’ll get you help.” “Oh no,” Pinkie said, then suddenly went into another bout of shaking. This time when it stopped she went into a series of convulsive twitches. Hard Boiled’s magic insisted to him that each movement had some sort of meaning, but it couldn’t parse out what each was trying to say. When the twitches stopped, Pinkie’s expression had become one of definite fear. “Oh no!” she said again, then turned and ran. There was nothing HB could do to stop her, and by the time he was moving after her, she had already disappeared into the depths of the mansion. *** The bandage on Rarity’s head itched terribly, and was as unflattering as such things often were, but she was told that it was quite necessary, and would remain until the doctors decided she was well enough to have it off. She supposed it could be worse. A good hat would take care of the bandage should she need to be seen in public, and, of course, she could also be dead. Others certainly hadn’t fared nearly as well. Rarity walked into Spike’s room and tried not to cringe at what she saw. It wasn’t so much the terrible injuries the Dragon had taken that upset her as it was the gleam of his claws and the memory of him using them to tear ponies apart. She’d known that he’d become accustomed to violence. He’d hinted and referenced it obliquely, and outright told her that he’d lived a hard life with some terrible choices. She’d known all this in her head, but in her heart he’d still been the baby Dragon that had followed her around like a lovesick colt with his first crush. Now, though, she’d seen the horror firsthand, and, like him, she supposed that she had come through it transformed. She took a steadying breath, then put on her best smile as she walked around to where he could see her. He was suspended belly-down in a kind of hammock, his limbs and head protruding through holes and held in their own little nets. His head rested on a pillow set on a pedestal that had a basket of rough-cut gemstones next to it. A few sparkling crumbs on the pillow showed her that they were at least feeding him properly. “Spikey-Wikey, darling, are you awake?” He opened his eyes with drugged slowness, focusing lazily on her face. Then his lips stretched back into a wide, goofy grin that was only slightly ruined by the mouthful of viciously sharp teeth. “Rarity,” he slurred, and as he spoke she could see the titanium stitching where they had sewn up his mouth and tongue. “You came to see me.” “Of course I came,” she said, laying a hoof on his shoulder. His body swayed gently at her touch, and she decided to rock him gently as they spoke. “As soon as they let me out of my own bed, there was nowhere else I wanted to be but by your side. I hear you protected me when I was… down. Such a brave, noble Dragon you’ve grown up to be!” His smile faded. “I thought you were dead.” He sniffed, sending a puff of acrid smoke out of his nostrils. “She shot you in the head!” “Yes, she did,” Rarity said, reaching up to touch the still-tender spot under the bandage where she’d been hit. The doctors had shown her an x-ray of her skull, in which she could clearly see the radiating lines of the fractures the bullet had caused. They’d told her she was lucky to be alive, that if it had been anything other than a glancing shot the bullet would have penetrated her brain and that would have been that. They’d also said she was healing at a phenomenal rate, a week of recovery in a night by their estimate. “I’m okay, though. Right as rain, in fact!” “Shouldn’t have let you come,” he said, reaching out to touch her face. She held herself perfectly still as those killing claws caressed her with such a tender gentleness that she could hardly believe they’d taken the lives of at least half a dozen ponies only hours before. “Didn’t want you to see that. Now you hate me.” “Nonsense,” she said, taking his claw and firmly pressing it against the side of her face. A part of her wanted to scream and run, but she shut it down. Spike was her friend. He’d done something terrible, true, but he’d done something very brave as well. She would not abandon him. That she still could not reconcile the violence with the bravery was her problem, not his. “Now listen to me, Spike. I do not hate you. I could never hate you.” “But… I…” “You did what you thought you had to do,” she said. “And nothing less. I am… not used to this time. This world is so different from the Equestria I knew, I doubt I ever will be. What happened was shocking. Terrifying, even. But you protected me, Spike. You stood over me and kept me safe from all that…” She paused, trying to think of the words that would comfort her friend, even if she didn’t fully believe them herself. She had to give him some comfort, she owed him that much. “You are my knight in purple armor, and my little Spikey-Wikey. How could I ever hate you?” He relaxed at that, and so did she. The words had been true enough, she supposed, to count. She took his claw from her face and left it to hang at his side. Looking at it again, those claws didn’t seem so terrible. Still, she would never forget what they were capable of. He stared at her for a long moment without saying anything, then his eyes slid shut and he began to snore, little tongues of green flame snapping out with every breath. She sat with him for a while, turning over the events she remembered in her head. The violence certainly stood out in her memory. The blood and the death. The smell of bodies burning and the stench of guts laid open. The sight of a beautiful mare pointing a long-barrelled gun at her. Yet for all the sick horror she felt at that, it was the smile on Max Cash’s face that stuck out most clearly. The manic grin as he drove the van towards them. The half-amused, half-mad smile as he had spoken to her. There was something behind that smile that sent shivers up her spine and turned her stomach more than all the death and fear of the battle combined. So lost in thought was she that she didn’t notice the door opening until a voice spoke. “Miss Rarity?” She perked up, looking to the door to find a pony she recognized from her time in the RIA building. “Yes?” “There’s a situation ma'am. I need you to come with me immediately.” He spoke in Lunar, but she found that her ability to speak and understand the language had taken quite a leap, and had no problems responding in kind. “What sort of situation?” she asked, frowning. “Is Spike in danger? Should he be moved?” The agent shook his head. “No, ma’am. No danger here. But you’re needed at the mansion. I’ve been told to tell you that your friend has arrived.” “Friend?” It took Rarity only a moment to realize who he meant. “Oh, Pinkie. I suppose she’s driving everyone up the wall?” The agent hesitated, and she could practically see the wheels turn in his head as he tried to find a diplomatic way to give her bad news. She steeled herself for it, whatever it was. “Her arrival was… problematic. She’s currently hiding somewhere in the mansion, and so far we have had no luck in finding her.” Rarity relaxed. “Oh, is that all?” She let out a nervous laugh and walked to the door. “Don’t feel bad, dear. You can’t find Pinkie when she doesn’t want to be found. I’m sure that once she sees a good friend, she’ll come right out.” “It might be a little more than that, ma'am,” the agent said, and she could hear a hint of sheepishness in his tone. “She was also, um, shot. Before she disappeared.” “Oh.” Rarity froze for a moment, then started herself moving again. “Well, then. This might require some special measures. Would you be so kind as to fetch a pen and some paper? I need to make a list.” “A list?” “Of supplies,” Rarity replied. “I hope you like cake, darling, because we’re about to throw a party.” *** The decorations were sparse, but colorful. Rarity eyed the inexpert placement of the streamers fluttering above the empty doorway of the mansion, but decided to leave them be. She couldn’t expect the police and RIA agents to have her eye for aesthetic detail, and the imperfections might actually help in enticing Pinkie out from wherever she was hiding. “The table’s ready,” Traduce said, coming up to Rarity’s side. A glance at the center of the foyer showed her that the table was indeed ready. It was a simple fold-up table, with a store-bought cake and a bowl of quickly-mixed punch ready to be passed out. Rarity nodded in satisfaction and turned back to the banner she was working on. Traduce tilted her head as she watched Rarity apply the final touches. “What’s that say?” “Welcome to the future,” Rarity replied. It was in Old Equestrian, of course, and embellished with her usual flare for style: sparkling balloons and glittering hearts providing an accent of fun and joy to the simple text. “Do we have music?” “I’ve got a radio set up,” Traduce replied. “Most stations are still broadcasting news about the attack last night, but there’s bound to be a few that are playing music.” “That will do,” Rarity said, then magically lifted the banner up to hang across the foyer, affixing it in place with a few nails and some string. “You are something else,” Traduce said, a note of wonder in her voice. “Well, I do my best,” Rarity said with a coy smile. Then the smile faded as she understood the nature of Traduce’s comment. “Oh. You mean the magic.” Traduce gave her a concerned look. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” “No, no offense,” Rarity said with a dismissive wave of her hoof. “I’m just still not used to being appreciated for the wrong things.” She turned to the rest of the room and raised her voice to be heard. “Is everybody ready?” There was a small commotion as the others in the room double-checked that they had everything Rarity had asked for in place. When it had died down Lieutenant Hard Boiled looked to her and nodded. “It’s all set to go. Are you sure that this is going to help?” “Absolutely,” Rarity replied. “There is nothing in this world that Pinkie loves more than a good party.” “Should I…” Barry spoke up. “Should I even be here?” Rarity had to resist narrowing her eyes at him. When she had learned he was the one who had shot Pinkie, she had just about thrown him out in a huff, but after a careful reconsideration, she had decided to keep him around. “Yes. You have an apology to make.” Her tone brooked no objection, and he shrank back from her as if she had slapped him. She pulled her attention away from the earth pony detective and her anger towards him, turning instead towards the whole of the gathered people. “My friend is alone, scared, and hurt. She needs to see that you will welcome her, that you aren’t mean people. That you can be friends. I doubt it will take long, she’s not the shy type. When she shows up, do not be alarmed by what she does, no matter how… strange. If she offers you something, take it. If she tries to get you to do something, like dance or play a game, do it. You will not be in any danger. I promise you, her first concern will be whether or not you are having a good time. So… Let’s get this party started!” The music was turned on, the punch was ladled out, and then they set about having the worst party Rarity had ever seen. They cast nervous glances at each other and the various entrances to the foyer, they congregated in small groups and chatted in hushed tones, they frowned or kept stoic. Except Barry, who was sweating and jumping like he expected to be banished or imprisoned at any second. Nowhere could anyone be said to be experiencing anything in the vicinity of ‘fun’. Rarity stood by the table, sipped her punch, and sighed. She wasn’t exactly in a party mood, either. Her head ached and the pills the doctors had given her to help with that didn’t seem to be doing anything. She waited for several minutes, listening to the radio and deciding that she rather liked the music in this future. After ten minutes with still no Pinkie Pie, she began to get worried. It wasn’t like her friend to let a party be this dreary for this long. She was just about to go and ask again if they were sure Pinkie was still in the building, when something grabbed her by her legs and hauled her bodily under the table. She let out a somewhat unladylike yelp that was muffled by a pink hoof shoved in her mouth. “Shhh,” Pinkie Pie said, peeking through the tablecloth that Rarity could have sworn wasn’t there a minute ago. She twitched constantly, little movements of her body, ears and tail keeping her in constant motion. She nodded once in satisfaction, then turned to her friend and gave her a tight hug. “Rarity,” she said in a whisper. “I am so glad to see you!” “I feel the same, darling,” Rarity whispered back. They pulled apart, but there wasn’t enough room to maneuver under the table, so Rarity ended up uncomfortably hunched over with her horn knocking against one of the table legs. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But first, it’s okay not to hide anymore. Those aren’t bad ponies out there.” “Oh, I know that.” “You do?” “Of course!” Pinkie said with a bright smile, and even whispering her voice went into a high squeak as she said it. Rarity paused at her friend’s matter-of-fact tone. She looked at Pinkie’s chest and saw the scabbed-over wound there. “Even though one of them shot you?” “Pft, I’ve had worse,” Pinkie said, rolling her eyes. “He was just twitchy. Like me that one time I drank the barrel of liquid sugar because Gummy dared me to. Or Twilight when she thinks she’s going to fail a test. I think he was just having a bad day, and he should probably lay off the coffee. Which reminds me, I raided the kitchen and made myself a milkshake. Want one?” She held up a tall glass filled with a neapolitan mixture of semi-liquid ice-cream. “Thank you, Pinkie, I’d be delighted,” Rarity said, taking the drink and setting it aside. “If you know they’re not bad ponies, why are you hiding?” “I’m trying to keep them safe,” Pinkie said, peeking out of the tablecloth again. “Safe? From what?” “The doozy!” Pinkie managed to bounce even while crouched down under the table. “The… doozy,” Rarity felt her headache surge. “Your Pinkie-Sense, I take it?” Pinkie nodded rapidly. “Like that one time when Twilight decided to just accept your, ah, Pinkie-ness?” “Nope, not like that at all.” Rarity didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried at that. “Well, that’s... good?” “No, Rarity, this is worse!” Pinkie said, grabbing her by the shoulders and giving her a little shake. “Way, way, way worse! My Pinkie-Sense has been going crazy! Like all sorts of super-no-good things are going to happen to me and everypony around me. This doozy is bad, Rarity! I don’t want anypony else to get hurt, so I’ve been hiding and waiting for them to go away, but they won’t!” Rarity thought about that for a moment. “Do you know what this, ah, ‘doozy’ is going to be?” Pinkie shook her head. “No. A doozy is something I’d never in a million billion years think would happen. I don’t know what I think wouldn’t happen until it happens, and then I go ‘oh, wow, I didn’t think that would happen’, because if I thought it would happen then it wouldn’t be something I didn’t think would happen, and if it happened I wouldn’t be surprised and go ‘oh, wow, I didn’t think that would happen’, because I did think it would happen, so it wouldn’t be a doozy in the first place!” “I… think I got that,” Rarity said. “And you’re sure it’s something bad?” “All my Pinkie-Sense is saying yes. Something super-duper-terrible bad is going to happen!” “Well, it’s commendable that you wanted to keep these ponies out of it, dear, but they are quite capable of handling anything that might happen.” Rarity moved to push aside the tablecloth. “They’re friends, Pinkie. And friends help friends through whatever comes. Even if it is super-duper-terrible.” Pinkie gave her a miserable look. “I don’t want anypony to get hurt.” “They won’t.” Rarity held out her hoof. “I promise. Now come on, the party is waiting for its guest of honor.” That was enough for Pinkie, and she took Rarity’s offer and came out from under the table. “Attention everyone!” Rarity called out. “We’ve found our missing guest. Please give a warm welcome to my good friend, Pinkie Pie!” There was a moment of dull silence before Traduce took the hint and began cheering and stomping, which was then taken up by the rest of the people in the foyer. Pinkie perked up at that, bouncing and waving. When the applause had died down, Rarity turned back to Pinkie. “Now, I have quite a few things to share with you about where we are and what’s been going on, and it’s going to take a while. So why don’t you cut the cake and we can get started?” Pinkie was more than happy to oblige. Some of the others felt that with Pinkie found, the party they hadn’t really been invested in was over. That, of course, was a mistake. Despite still worrying for their safety, and the constant twitches of her Pinkie-Sense, she simply couldn’t help herself; Pinkie Pie couldn’t stand to see a party where no one was having fun. Even though she knew nothing of the language or who these people were, Pinkie Pie was still able to work her particular brand of charm on them. Soon, with no one quite sure how it had happened, the party had turned from a torturous going-through-the-motions affair into the genuine article. Rarity watched the change unfold with a certain sense of inner satisfaction. There was just something so right about seeing Pinkie do her thing. It soothed some of the places where this world had rubbed her raw. Over the course of the party she managed to convey most of the situation to Pinkie, who took it all shockingly well. “Wow. The future,” Pinkie said during a lull in the dancing and games she was encouraging the others to participate in. “I mean. Wow! That’s a place I’d never thought I’d be. It’s always been the present before. Every time I tried to get to tomorrow, it was just today again.” “That’s… one way of looking at it,” Rarity said. “But, Pinkie, I want to make sure you understand the rest of it.” “I understand,” she chirped. “There’s a bad guy stealing the Elements and we’ve got to stop him. It seems pretty simple to me.” “Yes. Well, I was thinking that this was the ‘doozy’ you’re so worried about.” Rarity looked out through the broken door to the still blocked-off street. “A lot of ponies were hurt here last night. More will be if this mad stallion isn’t stopped. Plus, here you are, a thousand years in the future. I doubt that’s something you thought would happen.” “Oh, Rarity,” Pinkie said with a sad laugh. “That’s not the doozy. My Pinkie-Sense tells me about the future, not the past, and all that stuff has already happened already.” “I see,” Rarity said. “Do you know how soon this ‘doozy’ will happen?” “Soon,” Pinkie replied, and there was a quiet dread in her voice that made Rarity’s coat feel like it was standing on end. “Very soon.” As she was saying that, Hard Boiled walked up to them. The detective was levitating a glass of punch at his side, and had the slightly bemused look of a pony who was enjoying himself and not quite sure why. “Miss Rarity, Miss Pie.” He nodded to each of them. “This has certainly helped to relieve some of the tension around here. I’d like to thank you for that.” Rarity translated his words for Pinkie, who grinned. “Yay! I’m glad you’re not being so grumpy-pants anymore!” HB gave a grunt of uncomfortable acknowledgement as he heard the translation, a hoof going to pull at the collar of his rumpled and dirty suit. “Well, it’s a hard time for any of us to smile,” he said, his lips pulling up into a dry smile of his own. “But you pulled it off.” He turned his gaze to Rarity after she had translated for Pinkie. “Has she spoken with Barry yet?” “Yes. She completely forgave him for what he did, of course, but I fear he still holds some reservations.” HB grunted again, this time in annoyance. “He’ll have to get over it. With the way Straff was talking, if your friend had been seriously hurt he might have been hanged for treason.” Rarity stiffened at that, keeping her features carefully neutral. “I don’t think I’ll be letting Pinkie know that.” He looked at Pinkie, who was bouncing in place and looking around for anyone not having a good time. “Yeah. I get that.” He ran a hoof through his short hair. “Look, there’s something I want to talk to you about. You know Cash got away last night, right?” “I saw him leave,” Rarity said with a disdainful sniff. “He had the gall to talk to me, after what he’d done. He said he had something for me.” She shivered. “Repulsive stallion.” “Yeah, well, he didn’t get what he came for.” HB said, reaching into a pocket and retrieving a golden necklace with a central gem in the shape of a blue balloon. The Element of Laughter. “I got it instead, and I thought that since these things belonged to you two first, you’d be a better choice to take care of it. Straff wants to find a safe place to hide it, but something in my gut tells me that’s not going to work.” “Rarity,” Pinkie said in a small, terrified voice. Rarity looked at her friend, and found that Pinkie’s eyes were wide and locked on the Element. “Yes, Pinkie dear, what is it?” Pinkie Pie took a hissing, shallow breath. “Run,” she said. “Get everypony out of here and run!” “What?” Rarity began, but Pinkie was already moving. She snatched the Element out of Hard Boiled’s grasp and stared at it, breath heaving in and out as her muscles strained against some compulsion only she could feel. There was a feeling of static that snapped through the air, and manes all around the room began to rise as light bulbs flared and burst in showers of sparks. “Out!” Rarity shouted at the top of her lungs. “Everybody! Get out! Now!” They moved, but they were surprised and confused. They didn’t move fast enough. Rarity’s horn burst into brilliant light as she reached for every clothed pony there and shoved them all in a rough tumble out the door. She turned back to Pinkie just as a wind was rising, swirling around the foyer, tearing streamers from the wall and the banner from its fixture. The ground rumbled and bucked beneath her hooves as the gem inched closer to Pinkie’s neck. “Rarity!” Pinkie shouted over the howling wind and the bursting electronics. “You have to go too! I can’t hold it any longer!” “No!” Rarity screamed, her mane whipping at her face. “I just got you back, I’m not leaving you!” Then she reached over and wrapped her friend in a hug just as the necklace snapped closed around Pinkie’s neck. Light and power exploded from the Element, filling the world around them with burning energy. Then, together, they screamed. *** Charisma’s eyes popped open. She tried to lurch up, but found she didn’t have the strength. She looked around in wild confusion, and spotted Max Cash standing at her bedside. His expression was as dark as she’d ever seen it. The doctor was nowhere in sight, and it didn’t feel like they were moving. She remembered the incredible pain as the doctor had worked on her. She must have passed out from it. Cash noticed she was awake, giving her a dark, inscrutable look. “Do you hear that?” he asked. She nodded. It was like the strongest adrenaline high she had ever experienced, if it was somehow extracted from her memory and turned into a scream. It wasn’t just that, though. Somehow it felt like the years she had spent stagnating in the Palace. It reminded her of how she had felt after Blaze had left her. It made her remember the smug, self-satisfied smirk on the Lady Fallen Star’s face when she had unleashed her glowing chains on Charisma. There was rage in that sound, enough to drown the world in hatred. “What is it?” she asked. “Where is it coming from?” “Where is a little tricky, but you’re only hearing it because of this.” He tapped the crimson tear-drop gem at her throat. “As to what, well, that’s phase two.” Cash sneered. “Happening out of schedule and on its own, without supervision.” He shook his head and clucked his tongue. “Can’t have that. Oh no. Cannot have that. So, here’s where you show me I made the right decision. I want you to make it stop.” She frowned at that. “What?” “Make it stop,” he repeated, gesturing vaguely over her. “Break whatever bond is trying to form. Make it back off for now, until I’m ready to take control of it.” “How am I supposed to do that?” He sighed and pulled a book from his saddlebag. The same one he always carried. He opened it to one of several bookmarked pages and read for a few seconds. “Alright, Charisma, we don’t have time to coddle you on this one, so here’s the quick and dirty method. Focus on the Element. Focus on the sound. Focus until you can’t hear anything else. When that happens you should be able to see the bonds between the Elements, and to their bearers. Find the one that’s forming right now and stop it. Don’t try anything else. Don’t think anything else. Just stop it.” “Oh, is that all?” she snarked. “Well, I only need you if you can do the work. That means if you fail, I’m going to take back my Element, and I’ll probably have to terminate your employment.” He grinned at her. “So there’s some incentive for you. By the by, you’ve got, oh, about forty seconds. Make them count.” She stared at him incredulously for a moment, but he made a circling ‘get on with it’ gesture with his hoof, so she closed her eyes and concentrated. She listened to the sound, the scream. The longer she did, the more she could pick out two distinct voices. One was filled with impossible anger, but the other was something else. She listened harder, picking out the unique feel of the twinned voices. How they complimented each other, resonated. Then the necklace grew hot at her throat, and suddenly she could see it. Like a supernova burning in her mind’s eye. Two mares, one she didn’t recognize with a frizzy mane, the other the same one who had performed such incredible magic the night before, the one Charisma had shot. The one she didn’t know had something glowing with blue light on her chest. A necklace, a cousin to the one Charisma herself wore. “I see it,” she said, opening her eyes. She saw Cash, and the blue glow was within him as well. More than that, there were purple, orange, and red lights all twisting and twining together. They were spreading through his nerves like wildfire, eating him up inside. Hollowing him out. “You–” “Focus, Charisma,” he chided. “You have one job to do right now. Do not get distracted.” She obeyed, closing her eyes and returning to the image in her mind. She didn’t know what to do now. She could see what has happening, but she couldn’t affect it. There was too much power, too much distance. Her Talent was utterly silent, the situation too far removed from its purview. “Just do it,” she whispered to herself. She wore the Element of Loyalty, she’d seen what Cash could do with it, so she figured she could do the same. She focused on the blue necklace, narrowing her vision until it was all she saw. Her own necklace grew even hotter in response, and she welcomed it, trying to command it mentally as she would her limbs. “Betrayal,” she whispered, and suddenly it was over. The shock of it sent her reeling. She lay, dazed and insensate, for a long time. Then, slowly, she regained her awareness of the world, and the first thing she heard was Cash’s wild, braying laughter. When she looked over to him, he was half collapsed against her bed, his body heaving in gales of mirth. “What just happened?” she croaked out, her mouth suddenly very dry. “A near miss,” Cash replied, chuckling. “And the first lesson in your education.” “My education?” “Oh, yes. Remember? You’ve got a lot to learn about your new fashion accessory.” “Practice,” she said, recalling their conversation in Precious Corners. “It makes perfect,” he said. “And as I keep saying: we don’t have a lot of time. So you start now.” He looked around and grabbed a small syringe from one of the medical supply bags. “Lesson two: make this thing stick to the ceiling.” *** Rarity coughed. One moment she had been screaming in agony and terror, and the next she was lying on flat ground, holding Pinkie Pie close. She had no idea how much time had passed between the two states. She raised her head and looked around. Smoke and steam rose from the molten ground that glowed all around them, but the little island she and Pinkie were on was cool enough. That island was a tiny hill at the bottom of the crater that had once been Senator Birchfield’s mansion. Sounds of concerned voices and sirens came from all around them, and Rarity could see ponies poking their heads over the raised lip of the crater. The Element of Laughter lay at their hooves, and Rarity wasted no time in picking it up with her magic and flinging it away from them. It sailed over the heads of the watching ponies, and she didn’t care where it ended up from there. “Oh…” Rarity began, but had no way of continuing that captured exactly how she felt and was still within the bounds of ladylike decorum. Another look convinced her that this once it would not be out of place. “Oh horseapples!” she snapped out. “Ponyfeathers. Bucking tartarus! Celestia’s great golden–” “Yup,” Pinkie said, her voice lazy and half-dazed. “That’s a doozy.” “Indeed!” Rarity said, shaking her head. “All this destruction! I’m sorry for ever doubting you, Pinkie Pie.” “Not that,” Pinkie said, poking a hoof at Rarity’s nose. “You were swearing!” Rarity paused. “Your doozy… was me swearing?” Pinkie nodded. “Not your Element going insane and putting a hole in the city?” “Rarity,” Pinkie said, her expression and voice filled with matter-of-fact sincerity. “I think we all saw that coming.” Rarity couldn’t help the giggling laugh that escaped her. “I do hope nopony was hurt.” “I don’t think so, Rarity,” Pinkie said, hugging her tighter. “Right at the end, my Pinkie-Sense stopped going all twitchy. I think you saved them all.” Rarity smiled at that, returning the hug. “You do know I’ve sworn before, right, darling?” “You?” Pinkie made a sound of disbelief. “Naaah. Pull the other leg, Rarity, it’s the gullible one.” That brought a full laugh out of her, one Pinkie joined in. So together they laughed until the rescue team reached them.