//------------------------------// // 2. Examination // Story: Analog // by Petrichord //------------------------------// Spike blinked. “Of course we can get out of here.” “Wh- and just how are you proposing we do that?” Rarity sputtered. “I don’t know. But we haven’t even started looking around yet! Come on, Twilight wouldn’t want us to give up NOW. We only just got here.” “Spike. I’ve been shocked, TWICE, and we’re apparently in a place that is a windowpane away from negating my magic entirely. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a bit discouraged, dear.” “Yeah, but…” “I’d like a precise course of action. Otherwise, I feel as if I have the right to take a somewhat pessimistic outlook on things.” “Well, uh – there’s the box, and the flower. We could always start there.” “Wonderful! I’d simply love another opportunity to writhe in agony.” “M-maybe they’re safe!” “And what if they aren’t?” “What if they ARE?” Rarity sighed. “I suppose there’s not much else to do here, is there? Poke at the objects, feel pain. I’d hardly have expected her mind to be quite so hostile.” “I don’t think this is what her mind is normally like, Rarity.” “Perhaps. Perhaps not. It’s certainly not behaving proactively now, though, is it?” Spike turned away. Without replying, the dragon trotted over to a nightstand, standing on tiptoe to pluck the flower from the vase. “What’s ‘proactively’ mean?” Spike asked, turning around to face Rarity. “I, ah. Come again?” “I mean, you’re kind of using a bunch big words that I don’t really know, but I can usually figure out what you mean by them, even if I don’t get exactly what you’re saying. But I kind of don’t know what proactively means, so, uh…what does it mean?” “Well, er…I guess I meant “in our best interests”, perhaps?” “What about ‘vernacular’?” “…My choice of words?” “Initiative?” “Well, when I said it, I meant ‘your own willpower’, but I don’t suppose it’s that…” “Theoretically?” “It means ‘in theory’. Spike, I don’t see where you’re going with this.” “ ’Cause you know all these big words. And I don’t.” Spike plucked a petal off of the daffodil and began tracing little shapes onto it. “I mean, ‘cause you’re smart.” “Just because I’ve conversed with Twilight for extended periods of time, there isn’t necessarily a correlation between-“ “There! See? Correlation! It’s another big word, and I don’t know what it means, either.” Spike held the petal up to the light, squinting. “Even if you don’t think you’re smart, you’re smart enough to know all those words, AND how to use them! It’s like the difference between knowing how a dress looks and how to make a dress, right?” Rarity scratched the back of her neck. “I still don’t understand what you’re trying to say, darling.” “It just sounds like you’re kind of frustrated already. About trying to rescue Twilight, I mean. And I feel like you’ld probably be able to get better ideas about how to find her then I would. And I don’t want to give up, but it kind of sounds like you do.” Spike huffed, then breathed a gout of flame on the petal. It caught fire, drooping into an ashen tongue; frowning, Spike crumpled the petal in his claw and plucked another petal off of the daffodil. “I want to be brave. It’s harder for me to be brave when I have to be brave in front of everypony else. Or even just you. I’m not just scared of the spell, and where we are, or even just Twilight. I’m scared that I won’t be brave anymore. I’m scared that I’ll get too scared to save Twilight.” Spike held out the petal to Rarity. “And it’s harder for me to feel brave when I’m trying to do something that nopony else thinks they can do.” Rarity took the petal, pausing for a couple of seconds, as if collecting herself. “That’s…rather mature of you, Spike.” “What is?” “To articulate what you’ve said. And to tell me about how you feel. I’m not sure you’re aware of how difficult it would be for other ponies to do the same thing.” Rarity brought the petal to her nose and sniffed. It wasn’t simply scentless; like a waiting room in a hospital, it was aggressively devoid of any scent at all. “It doesn’t sound like I’m blaming you, does it? I mean, I didn’t mean for it to sound like that…” “It was a necessary change of perspective. I’m thankful, actually.” Rarity brought the petal close to her eye; it was smooth, uniform in color, lacking in mark or blemish. An imitation, Rarity thought. Too perfect to resemble something alive. The idea of a flower, but not a real one. “But what’s ‘real’ supposed to mean, anyway?” Rarity mused. “Huh?” “Apologies, Spike. I was thinking about…” Rarity trailed off, before offering the petal back to him. “Ah – I’m not sure what you wanted me to do with this, actually.” “Oh! Well, I was wondering if you could write ‘help’ on it. Y’know, with magic. Just make really small indentions – but like, ones deep enough that somepony could read on them!” “Isn’t that what you were just doing?” “Yeah, but – maybe if you do it, it’ll have some trace of your magic on it! Maybe that’ll help!” “Perhaps, but I don’t see how burning petals is conducive to our-“ “Princess Celestia! I figured that it doesn’t have to be a letter in order to get to her – if I just write on anything and send the message to her, then she’ll know that we’re still okay. Maybe she’ll even figure out where we are!” “Spike! That’s ingenious!” Rarity beamed. Abruptly, her smile faltered. “Ah…” “Yeah?” “Well – I’m going to assume that sending a petal is what you just TRIED to do, darling.” “Yeah, but…maybe it would work if it had a bit of your magic to it! That might do something! Besides, my hoofwriting isn’t that great. Uh – claw-writing. You know what I meant.” “I suppose it’s worth a try, if nothing else. You’re right, of course. We mustn’t just give up now. That’d hardly be fair to Twilight, much less anypony else. So!” Rarity took the petal in one hoof and, as her horn glowed, carefully indented its surface. “There we are. ‘We’re okay, please send help.’ Hopefully they’ll understand that we aren’t, ah…unwell, but that we could certainly use a rescue. Does that sound okay to you?” Spike took the petal back and craned his neck close to its surface. “Yeah! I mean, it’s kind of small, but I’m sure they’ll be able to read it.” “If it goes through, in any case.” “Here goes nothing!” Spike chirped, before inhaling and breathing a puff of flame onto the petal. For a moment, the petal shimmered. Then, like the one before it, the petal lit up in a lick of green fire, slowly curling in on itself as it withered to an ashen husk. Rarity watched as Spike’s face fell. “…I guess that wasn’t a good idea after all”, Spike mumbled. “Sorry.” Rarity bit her lip, then gritted her teeth in defiance. “Darling, it was a perfectly reasonable idea! You have nothing to worry about. We’ll simply have to find other ideas.” “That was the only one I had, though.” Spike crumpled the second petal, then slumped and stared at the ground. “I kind of said all that stuff about making new ideas ‘cause I wanted to impress you when my idea worked. But if it didn’t work, then I guess it didn’t mean anything.” Rarity shook her head. “Even if trying to send a message to Celestia didn’t work, it doesn’t mean what you said was wrong. We’ve only just arrived, after all. If we can’t make a message on our own, perhaps we’ll be able to find something else that can send a message for us.” “I guess”, Spike muttered. Rarity cupped Spike’s chin, lifting his head to face her, and stared directly into his eyes. “Bravery is harder when nopony else thinks they can do it, yes?” “…Yeah.” “Well, I’m certainly willing to be brave for you, if you’re willing to be brave for me. I should never have let some silly pains frustrate me, at any rate. It’d be a grave disservice to you, and to Twilight. And, I suppose, to me. We’re both better then a bit of discouragement, yes?” Spike stared at her, then stepped back and nodded. “Yeah. I guess you’re right. Responsibility, right?” Rarity beamed. “Exactly. Now – if you’ll be a dear, put the flower back and we’ll investigate the box together.” “Okay!” Spike turned and trotted back, reaching up to grab the vase and inserting the daffodil with ease. Replacing the vase, Spike stepped back, paused, scratched his arm and turned back to Rarity. “Hey, uh – what do daffodils mean, anyway?” “Hmm?” Rarity trotted over to the box, then turned to face Spike. “I’m not sure what you mean, Spike.” “Well, I know that you’re supposed to put flowers next to ponies who are sick, to make them feel better. But, like, you could put any flower in a vase, right? Or a bouquet?” “Hm. I suppose that’s true, but I haven’t thought about it much before. Flowers aren’t exactly my area of expertise. Except when they’re matched with the appropriate hat or dress, of course. Perhaps if we find a boutique, then I’ll be able to put it to use.” Rarity chuckled. “But I think it would be best if we left it alone for now, Darling.” “Right”, Spike replied, trotting back to Rarity, face scrunched in concentration. “Yellow flower, might mean something. Yellow flower, might mean something. Yellow flower, might mean something.” “…Spike? What are you doing?” “I’m trying to remember the stuff about the flower!” Spike chirped as he stood next to Rarity. “I thought it might be something we forget, so I thought that if I said it out loud enough times, I’d remember it anyway. I don’t want to forget it, in case it’s important for some reason.” Rarity snorted, then giggled. “Huh?” Spike said. “Uh…it’s a dumb idea, isn’t it?” “It isn’t a terrible idea, Spikey-wikey.” Rarity replied, giggling again. “But I think I’ll be able to remember enough for the two of us. Perhaps I don’t know what flowers are supposed to mean, but I wouldn’t forget such a beautiful shade of yellow. Particularly considering how drab and Spartan this room is. Ugh.” Rarity added, rolling her eyes. “If this really is Twilight’s mind, then she could certainly afford to spend more time at home decorating classes. Or an art gallery, at the very least. Minimalism was so last January.” Spike grinned. “Or maybe she could hang out with Pinkie!” “Even if streamers and balloons are a bit gauche, they’d CERTAINLY be better then this.” “Or she could borrow some of Rainbow Dash’s Wonderbolts posters!” “Well – let’s not go too far.” Spike giggled. “There we are! That’s the Spike I want to see.” Rarity pulled down the box, rested it on one hoof and – horn glowing – lifted open the lid. There was nothing in the box but lavender foam. Indentations had been inexpertly carved into the foam: an oval in the center, and two curved bands on the top and bottom, each with indentations in the middle. “Huh”, Spike said as he peered closer. “It kind of looks like an eye.” “I suppose? But it doesn’t explain the other indentations.” “Which ones?” “The ones on the top and bottom – see?” “Ohhhhhh. Yeah, I see them now!” Spike scratched his head. “I still don’t get what it’s supposed to mean, though.” “Well, I’m not sure it would make all that much sense to have an empty box lying in here, of all places. Assuming that everything here is important, of course-“ Rarity froze. “Erm…Spike?” “Yeah?” “I’m…touching the box, right? As in, physically touching it?” “I think so? I mean, are you not supposed to be touching it, or something?” “Not if I don’t want to feel pain! Is it delayed? Pressure-based?” Rarity’s eyes flickered with fear as she scanned the room. “Perhaps if you used the vase to nudge it out of my hoof, then…” “Rarity, I don’t think it’s going to hurt you.” “We don’t know that for sure! I-it could go off at any second! Spike, please, you have to do something-“ Spike grabbed the box out of her hoof and shook it up and down several times. The dragon paused, blinked and handed it back to her. “I don’t think it’s going to hurt you, Rarity. I think some of the stuff in the room is safe. Maybe it’s just Twilight we’re not supposed to touch?” Rarity gulped, then took the box. It sat in her hoof, plain and lifeless. “…Perhaps. That was still reckless of you, Spike. Don’t do it again.” “But the flower was safe!” “You shouldn’t have touched it, either! I should have said something as soon as you did. So long as there’s no way of telling what’s safe and what isn’t, then-“ “What? Should I just not touch anything unless you say I can?” “Yes.” Spike moaned. “Rarity, I was kind of being sarcastic.” “And I’m being serious, darling. It’s okay if I get hurt, but I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself if it can be avoided.” Spike stared at Rarity, and with exaggerated deliberation turned to look at Twilight. Rarity sighed. “Dear, please don’t tell me that you’re thinking about touching Twilight in order to make a point.” “I’m sort of thinking about it, Rarity.” “Ugh! Fine! Touch whatever you like. Harm yourself. You are your own dragon, I suppose.” Rarity huffed. “I hope you realize this is the second time you’ve coerced me today. It’s rather un-gentledragonly of you.” “I want to help. But you keep saying things that make me feel like I shouldn’t help, and that’s not-“ “Responsible. I understand.” Rarity rubbed her temple. “You do realize that I’m only doing this to try and protect you?” “Yeah. But I’m okay with not being, y’know, totally protected.” Spike shrugged. “I just want to help like anypony else could. I don’t want to be treated like a baby. I promise that I can do just as much as anypony else.” Spike stared at the ground. “Please let me help, Rarity? I know I might not look like I’m Twilight Sparkle, or Applejack, or any of our friends, but…” Silence settled. Abruptly, Rarity sniffed, and Spike looked back up at her. “I promise, Spike. You’re welcome to help as much as you like, and I’ll do my best to bite my tongue. Anyways – shall we review what we’ve learned so far?” “Yellow flower, might mean something!” “…Yes, I suppose that’s true. You aren’t going to forget that fact any time soon, are you?” “Nope!” Spike beamed. “Uh…let’s see. We can’t touch Twilight, there’s magic outside the window that means that we can’t signal for help…” “Static, Spike. Magical interference.” “Yeah, that stuff! So then there’s the box that used to have stuff in it, but it doesn’t have that stuff anymore. And there’s the door behind you that probably doesn’t open, and the window that I didn’t really get to look out of.” Spike paused. “Should I check under the bed?” “If it isn’t safe to touch Twilight or the covers, I’d guess that it’s probably not safe to touch any part of it. You may look, if you wish, but I wouldn’t recommend rummaging around beneath it.” Rarity blinked. “Ah. The…door?” “The one behind you!” Rarity spun around. Opposite the window was a clean, white and featureless door. Beneath a small brass doorknob was a tiny keyhole; besides those, the gaps between the door, floor and ceiling were so thin that the door almost entirely blended in with the wall. “I thought you had already tried to open it”, Spike added as he got on his hands and knees and began to look under the bed. “Y’know, before I woke up and everything. Should I have said something?” “Well, ah - I suppose that you just have, in a manner of speaking. Perhaps I should have asked earlier. My apologies.” Rarity trotted over to the door, braced herself and put a hoof against the door. No pain. The texture on the door was smooth and slick as porcelain. “Rarity? I don’t see anything under here.” “Perhaps check the vase? Or on the underside of the box?” Rarity reflexively winced as she looked at the doorknob. Her hoof trembled as she paused, then grabbed the door handle. No pain. Rarity tried to turn the knob, but it was stuck fast. “I still don’t see anything.” “I suppose you can examine the window, if you wish.” Rarity bent down to look at the keyhole. Her horn glowed softly, illuminating the lockwork inside. Inside the keyhole was a vast kaleidoscope of cogs, locked in and on each other in twisting patterns, blocking the view of the outside of the keyhole. “Well, then. This appears to be entirely vestigial.” Rarity sighed. “Ah…Spike? I don’t wish to alarm you, but I suspect that we might be trapped.” “No way!” Rarity turned around. The shutters on the window were thrown wide. Spike had pulled himself up in front of the window, tiny arms trembling as he looked outside. “It is unfortunate. Still – I suppose if we searching everything a bit more thoroughly, we should be able to find some something of value. I don’t relish the idea of having to touch Twilight’s bed sheets, but if we must look under those, then-“ “No, Rarity! That’s not what I meant! I meant you’ve got to take a look at this. Trust me!” “Mmm?” Rarity trotted over to the window, looked outside and gasped. The ground outside was almost blank as pure limestone; Above them, the crackling of static filled the black and white sky. But down from the window, a slate-colored path trailed outward, then forked into winding trails. To the right, the path lead inside an impossibly tall mountain, jagged as crags. To the left, a city sprawled upward and outward, innumerable skyscrapers jutting heavenward. A lump formed in Rarity’s stomach as she stared at the city, and an abrupt surge of fear shot up her spine. Shivering, Rarity looked back at the base of the path. The unforked path lead toward the window, out of her field of view. Craning her neck, Rarity stared straight down. Far below, the path fused directly with what she could only assume was the wall of their room. Growing on the wall that separated the two was mane, thick as ivory, trailing in a tangled weave of pink and indigo to the ground below. “I don’t believe it…” Rarity whispered. “I do!” Spike turned towards Rarity. “Rarity, we did it! We can get out of here!” “Ah – perhaps, Spike. But where are we escaping to, exactly?” “Who cares? At least it’s something. C’mon, Rarity. You can’t seriously want to stay here forever!” “Not in the least!” “So?” “Spike, are you familiar with the phrase ‘out of the frying pan, and into the fire’?” “There’s a frying pan around here? Do you think there’s something for us to eat, too?” “Spike.” “Okay! Okay! Just trying to make a joke. But you’re not seriously thinking about staying here, are you?” Rarity shook her head. “I’m not. Merely worried, is all - and you can hardly fault me for that. Still, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to investigate the mountain, if nothing else.” “Uh.” Spike paused. “The…mountain?” “Well, of course! Here – allow me a moment to explain, will you?” Rarity trotted over to the box, hesitating briefly before lifting it up and carrying it over to Spike. “Now. There were indentations, but nothing to fill them – yes?” “Yeah, but-“ “-So there almost certainly SHOULD be something to fill them. Admittedly, I’m grasping at straws, but if this were a jewelry box, I’d assume that the jewelry had merely been misplaced, rather then that the box was meant to be entirely without contents.” Rarity shuddered. “Though why some sorts of careless ponies would leave jewelry simply ‘lying about’ is beyond me. I’m certainly loath to consider how my friends handle THEIR accessories, even the inexpensive ones, but-“ “Uh, Rarity?” “Right! Apologies! The point is: I’ll assume that the box is supposed to be filled, but no longer is. So if we can find whatever is supposed to fill the box and, ah…’re-fill’ it, then it should help us better understand our surroundings. ‘Re-fill’. Ugh. What a banal choice of words. Where in Equestria is Twilight Sparkle and the walking thesaurus that is her brain? I’d certainly appreciate a brief expansion of my vocabulary at the moment.” “Um…” Spike pointedly looked behind Rarity. Rarity followed his gaze back to the bed, where… “Oh. I suppose that is my answer, isn’t it?” “Yeah.” “Well, ah…that aside, my point still stands. As far as I see it, our goal is to find the contents of this jewelry box, return them and see what happens. It isn’t an answer, but at least it’s a goal.” “Well, I mean, I was kind of suggesting that less then a minute ago.” “Ah. So you did, I suppose.” Spike frowned. “Are you gonna keep taking my words and using them at me whenever I sound like I’m unsure about something?” “If it keeps us on track, yes. Consider me the Loyal Opposition – or a Princess’ advisor, I suppose. Ooh! Or you could be my advisor. So long as you promise to be a perfect gentledragon around a proper lady, of course-“ “Rarity!” “Yes?” “I never said that I DIDN’T want to do this. Geez!” “Then why are you acting petulant? Does my logic about the box make sense?” “Yeah?” “And does it make sense that it mountains are likely to contain gems?” “Yeah?” “And, possibly, hoards of treasure?” “Yeah…” “And that, in order to find the proper contents of the box, going into the mountain is the best possible way to find gems, and treasure, and therefore the sort of gems and treasure that are most likely to properly go in the box?” “I guess.” “Then.” Rarity huffed. “I was prepared to articulate a much more eloquent and intricate argument, but now you’ve forced me to speak tersely. So. If you can find no fault with my logic, then why are you disagreeing with me?” “…I’m still kind of mad that you’re saying all the stuff I was already trying to tell you.” “But?” “Well…uh.” Spike scratched the back of his neck, the resent on his face sliding into culpability. “…Is something wrong, Spike?” “It’s just…I’ve got a bad feeling about the mountain, Rarity. Like, REALLY bad. Like, even if all the stuff you said and that I was going to say makes sense, and there’s no reason for me to get a bad feeling about going in the mountain…I still feel really bad about it.” “Do you think it’s some sort of trap, then?” “Not…” Spike trailed off. “…I mean, anything here could be a trap, or dangerous, or something like that. It’s not like there’s anything specific I can think of, but if I think about the place I just kind of…feel sick. Like I’m gonna have a really, REALLY bad time if I go in there.” Part of Rarity wanted to sympathize with Spike. Part of her wanted to tell him that she knew exactly how he felt, how her branch of logic was at least a little craven and selfish, how she felt just as scared about the city as he felt about the mountain. But part of her knew that if she gave even an inch about this issue, that her logic might betray her and she’d be forced to go into the city after all. The image of a gray mass of buildings briefly sprang into her imagination, followed by a surge of nausea and trepidation. “Spike…” Rarity sighed. “Perhaps it’s a bit hypocritical for me to state, but – we really do have to work together. I know I’ve been ungenerous and argumentative, and I’ve fought with you a bit more then I would have liked to, but we can still make a good team, can’t we?” “I mean, I never really thought that we didn’t make a good team, Rarity.” “But good team members need to work TOGETHER, Darling. You and me. Me and you. I’ll resist the urge to break out into song if it helps you understand that I’m starting to earnestly believe that I can’t do this by myself.” Spike remained silent, claws clenched into tiny fists, trembling. “I know that you’re scared, Spike. But I need to be brave.” Spike blinked. Abruptly, he sat down on the floor and pulled his knees in front of his chest, eyes cast toward the ground. “…Rarity?” “Yes?” “How did you feel when you found Twilight?” Rarity frowned, sitting down in front of Spike. “Do you mean when I first met her?” “No, I mean…when you found her. In the library. A couple of days ago.” “That’s a rather…leading question, isn’t it?” Rarity paused. “…How did you feel?” “I mean, a lot of things.” Spike sniffed. “But I mean, like…It’s not frustrated, it’s not helpless, it’s…” “Spike.” Rarity placed one of her hooves against Spike’s claw. “I’m listening.” “…You know the phrase ‘this can’t be happening’? It’s…sort of like that. I know I’m not explaining that well either, but…” “You didn’t think that it could happen?” “It WASN’T really happening, was how I felt. Like it wasn’t something that was going to stick. Ponies just needed to figure out what was wrong, and make them not-wrong, and then everything would go back to being happy. And when I was trying to figure out her notes or talking with Princess Celestia about it, then it felt like something that wasn’t going to be a problem, and everything would get better really soon. ‘Cause if I didn’t think that I was working to fix things and if I started thinking that Twilight might be like that forever, I couldn’t stand it.” Spike’s claws trembled. “I couldn’t think about it. I couldn’t think about her or magic or anything else. I couldn’t think about trying to be willing to live in world where she was…where that happened to her. I couldn’t do it.” Spike sniffed. “I couldn’t.” “Spike…” “I’m not sure I really would have burned her notes, Rarity. I’m not sure that I could try to think about her not coming back. I mean, I felt okay when we were working this afternoon, and kind of okay when we were working on all the stuff with this room, y’know? But if I just sort of gave up…” “Shh. Spike.” Rarity reached up and gently traced a hoof down his cheek. “You’ve been more then wonderful so far. We’re going to be fine. There’s no reason to worry.” “But that’s the thing”, Spike replied, lifting his head to look at Rarity. “I think about the mountain and I can’t not feel worried. I know it doesn’t make any sense to feel like that, but just thinking about going in there makes me feel that…makes me feel like I can’t do it. Exactly the same way. I know that we have to go in there, like you said, but isn’t there anything else we can do?” Rarity shook her head. “I’m afraid not, dear.” “Well, what about the city? Maybe we could…” “NO.” Rarity drew her hoof over her mouth as Spike winced. She hadn’t meant to refuse as loudly as she had. “Erm…I mean, it’s not a good idea, isn’t it?” “Well, maybe they’ll have treasure somewhere. Maybe there’s a jeweler somewhere that-“ “I think we both know perfectly well that, even if we find one, it won’t have the sort of thing we’ll be looking for.” Unbidden fear and anger gave her words a steely edge. “And even if there was some sort of map, or guide, or whatever other rationalization you might be trying to drum up at the moment - I doubt it’ll be as useful as simply investigating by ourselves.” “Are you sure?” “YES.” Spike turned back to the floor and hunched his shoulders for a couple of seconds, then pulled himself upright. “O-okay. Let’s just, um…let’s go. Th-there’s no real reason for us to wait around any more, right?” Rarity stood up, sighing in relief. “There isn’t, no. The sooner we can figure out what to do, then the sooner we’ll be able to escape. Still – I appreciate that you’ve made this as easy as you can.” “I-I really don’t like this place, Rarity. I’m not sure whether or not I don’t like it more then you, uh, more then you don’t like it, but…but I feel like it’s making us fight with each other, and it’s making me do things I feel really bad about, and-“ Spike gasped as Rarity reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. “My little Spikey-Wikey”, Rarity whispered. “You’re so brave…” Silence fell as the two stared at each other. Rarity’s smile was soft, but genuine; Spike’s blush was practically luminescent. Seconds blurred together in the warm tingle of contact until, finally, Rarity pulled her hoof away. “I’m going to open the window” Rarity stated, voice even and calm. “From there, we’ll climb down the…mane, I suppose?...and head down the path to the right. Follow my hoofsteps until I’m inside the mountain. I’ll talk to you once we’re inside.” “Um…so what’s going to happen when you open the window?” “I don’t know, Spike.” Rarity trotted over to the window. The handle for the pane was at the bottom of the window; it would be possible, if not easy, to open the window wide. “I don’t know, but I suppose it’s best to expect the worst.” Rarity’s horn glowed, and a latch locking the window in place came free. Hoisting herself up a little higher, Rarity grabbed onto the pane handle. “Brace yourself, Spike.” Rarity pulled the window open wide.