The last cinders fell around Daring Do, littering the ground with orange and red coals. Her mane fell over her face as she looked back to see Dulcimer’s horrendous device engulfed in flames. Despite the damage, the magic still glittered. The flow from the unicorn cylinder crackled wildly, passing through the devastated, ashen fairy strings. The power leaped into the air to join the other two sources and entered Dulcimer’s heart.
His fairy strings shone golden through his skin. They traced their way throughout his body, etching lines in his hooves, back, and horn. He hunched over, his breath coming slow and hot. He moaned and arched his back, leaning against an unbroken cylinder. A new bone growth jutted from his spine, wreathed in pulsating fairy strings.
“Oh gosh.” Daring Do shook Time. “How do we stop this? How do we reverse it or whatever?”
“I don’t know.” Time Turner scrunched his face as aches wracked his chest. “I—I wouldn’t try to get close to him. Who knows what those beams would do to you?”
“Turn me into the Alicorn Princess of History?” Daring Do grasped at his prosthetic. “Shoot him! Just shoot the—”
“Wait.” Time grabbed her shoulder. “Look.”
Daring Do’s heart plummeted. Dulcimer’s face healed right before her eyes—punch by punch, broken bone by abrasion. Even his teeth were nice. “So, not gonna work.”
Dulcimer’s voice cracked as feathers sprouted from his new limb. “Shut up!”
A spark of magic struck Daring Do and Time, throwing them against the ground. Daring sat up and rubbed the burnt patch on her shoulder. “Oh, gosh, that sucked.”
Time lay back, his eyes glazed, his heart beating an irregular rhythm. Tears traced his wrinkles. “Daring…”
“You two are about to witness history,” Dulcimer laughed. “The birth of a new alicorn prince, and the creation of stable time travel!”
His horn glowed. Across the room, the metal archway came to life. Energy climbed the pillars and met at Time Turner’s prototype gemstone. A casing clamped over the stone and sealed the dangerous magic from the outside world. The electrodes zapped the empty air, gaining steam.
“He’s gonna change the past!” Daring punched the floor. “He’s gonna be freaking impossible to beat! We need to do something now!”
An unholy shriek ripped through the air as a hole appeared in reality. Time and space bent inwards, transforming into a quagmire of light and sound. The arch became a doorway into nothingness.
Time lifted his head. Through weary eyes, he spotted the gemstone’s glow through the seams in the casing. “My—my prototype. That’s the key.”
Dulcimer fell to his knees. The other side of his back sprouted the final appendage: A skeletal parody of an alicorn’s wing.
“Before he notices.” Time’s throat stung with every breath. “If we destroy the crystal, the magic channel will be broken. The power will backfire.”
Daring Do scowled. “With how much power is flowing through that, the feedback could vaporize the whole… room…” Her wings spread out. “And Dulcimer’s garbage with it.” She threw a hoof towards the wall of crystal shards. “And us.”
“I still have one time-bomb left.” Time Turner patted his breast pocket. “Just enough to shield us from a cataclysmic detonation.”
Daring Do nodded, casting a glance to the ever-screaming Dulcimer. “So we gotta break the crystal, get the three of us together, and blow the time bomb before we all become atoms. Cakewalk. Problem is there’s a shield over the gemstone, and a maniac who’s got a time-stop spell.”
“Manual override.” Time pressed his hoof against his chest. He chewed his tongue and jerked his head at the time machine. “Get over there and pull it loose. I’ll shoot it from here. You have to already be clear when the ball hits because it’ll be deadly nearly instantly.”
“Uh huh.” Daring tilted her head. “And how do we do that without ‘Growing Pains’ over there noticing?”
Time’s hoof traced down her foreleg. He rested it against the gauntlet. “Tell me, Daring; can you run faster than a volleygun ball?”
Daring Do swallowed. She favored him with a devilish grin. “Today? For you? You’re darn right I can.”
***
Hurricane’s blades sparked against Care’s armor. She flipped with every other movement, bringing both her wings close enough to strike. Everywhere Care looked there were razor-sharp blades ready to cut or pierce. She retreated speedily, her hooves raised to shrug off glancing blows.
She coated the walkway with fire, but a beat of Hurricane’s powerful wings extinguished the spell. The commander leaped for a sword-tipped headbutt, and crossed horns with Care. The two of them rose to their hind legs, Hurricane trying to shove her from the ledge, Care pushing to remain standing.
Care kicked out with both forehooves. She shoved Hurricane’s legs a side and bucked her right in the chest. With the commander’s balance upset, Care used her newfound leverage to jolt her. She backpedaled around the side of the third gasbag—the one before the rearmost bag—and kept her eyes on her opponent.
Hurricane soared around the other side of the bag to come up behind Care. When the unicorn came into view, she let three blades loose. Care kicked one away, but one struck her in the shoulder. The force of the blow carried her against the bag’s lining, just below where the third blade sliced through the canvas.
She held her breath and ran from the leakage. The gas was already causing the corners of her vision to cloud. The fire licking the mesh on the catwalk winked out as the oxygen in the atmosphere was overwhelmed by the fumes.
Care fired a ball of flame at Hurricane. “You’re gonna sink your own ship with tactics like that!”
Hurricane dropped like a rock onto Care’s back. The hooks on her boots dug between her armor’s shoulder plates. “This ship can fly with a single gasbag, half-full. A minor puncture or two shall not harm it.”
She drew her wingblades back. “You, though—”
Care held her head up and cast a thin, concentrated beam of heat. It shot past Hurricane’s face. The commander pushed herself away, giving Care an opportunity to launch her right shoulder into Hurricane’s lower jaw. Their armors’ shields crackled with shadows and light. Care bucked the commander’s wing with her hind legs. The wingblades clattered loose and fell to the bottom walkway.
She turned on her hind legs and thrust her hoof at Hurricane’s throat. She connected and struck again, this time hitting her chin. Each blow tested the strength of the commander’s armor, and each blow rattled Care’s teeth. She pressed magic into her horn, narrowing her focus into a single, metal-liquefying point.
Hurricane’s wing snapped out and caught Care below the chin. The beam went wild, slicing through the catwalk’s supports. The rickety platform swung back and forth.
The commander swung her two remaining wingblades and sliced through the meshwork. She jumped and rolled, the disk on her back spinning, and her wingblades jumped from their scattered positions. With stinging clangs, they met with Hurricane in the air.
Care crouched to keep her footing on the swaying walkway. The disk rotated every time the blades flew back to Hurricane. It was locked into the armor, but a solid blow might damage it. She glanced around for a ladder up to the higher walkway. There weren’t any.
She held on tight to the side of the walkway. “Dumb griffons. Not everybody can fly—”
Hurricane dove at her, wings prepared to slice, horn ready to stab.
Care screamed and threw herself to the side. The tips of Hurricane’s blades scored her armor, but the main brunt of the attack severed the walkway’s supports. The meshwork bent under her weight and snapped apart at the seam. Care ran for all her legs were worth to the next set of supports. Her hoof grasped the edge, and the broken walkway tumbled to the canvas below.
She hauled herself up with a grunt. Her strong legs pumped as she raced for cover. She could hear Hurricane slice the supports behind her one by one. She couldn’t afford to watch her do it, not with her survival depending on her speed. She packed fire into a tight ball and dropped it between her legs. It flashed behind her with a delayed poomf. Hurricane cursed.
Care Carrot reached the gasbag and ran up the curved lining. Just before gravity called her downward, she jumped from the surface. Her momentum carried her head-over-tail. Hurricane looked up, her helmet’s glowing eyes bulging, as Care dropped onto her back.
The assassin smashed face-first into the meshwork. With no way to stop, they slid across the catwalk and launched into open air. Hurricane opened her wings and tried to catch the air with her magic, but Care seized her foe’s neck. They crashed into the canvas of the Thunderhead’s outer envelope.
They fell apart as they rolled to the bottom of the cigar-shaped craft. Hurricane dug her boot-blades into the material. She stumbled when Care tugged on her hind legs. She kicked, and was rewarded with the sound of her hoof resounding against Care’s helmet.
Care bit down on her tail and yanked. Pain shot up Hurricane’s spine. She spread her wings and screeched. The disk on her back whirred.
With her mouth full of Hurricane’s tail, Care squinted one eye, took aim at the assassin’s back, and shot a flame as tight and as hot as a welder’s torch. It traced up Hurricane’s back, pools of metal dripped from the armor, until it reached the electromagnet.
When the fire hit the disk, there was a painful, piercing snap. All Care could see was white.
***
Twilight Sparkle gave the spike a mighty heave. It tore away from the stone and dirt, its tip shattering against the floor. She squeezed through the gap, her hooves bloodied from the sharp crystal growth. She picked up the separated shard, just to have something to defend herself with.
She flew over the wall of Sombra’s crystals and beheld the chaotic mess. Time lay back, his body ravaged by time. Daring Do hovered over him, speaking with his in hushed whispers. Dulcimer let loose horrific growls as his body twisted and split.
At the far end of the room, Dulcimer had set the Grimoire Alicorn on a podium. Twilight fluttered up to it and grasped it with her wings. She held it close, like the national treasure she was sure it had to be. With that taken care of, she looked to the cylinders. There had to be a way to shut them off. Wasn’t there?
Time Turner held the hoof-gun tight. He aimed it at the archway. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah.” Daring set the gauntlet to run for two seconds. She tapped the side of the device. “Doesn’t this thing last any longer?”
“That’s about the moment people start to notice you moving around.” Time waved her closer. “We’ll press the buttons at the same moment. On my mark.”
“On your mark.” Daring Do danced on her hooves. “This is really risky. I like it.”
Time unlatched the safety. “Three…”
Daring touched the ignition. “Two…”
“One…” Time yanked the trigger back. “Mark!”
The world became a thick haze around Daring. The gun’s explosion echoed as if it were underwater, muted and muddled. The magic pouring into the time machine wriggled and writhed. She took off at a gallop.
The ball zipped over her shoulder. She checked its course; Time’s aim was spot-on. She increased her speed to a dead run.
She tried not to look into the vortex within the machine. Strange shapes flashed into view. Horrified faces. She could have sworn she saw Ahuizotl out of the corner of her eye. Her parents, long dead, screamed in ghostly voices. Martial Paw shouted her name. Dead friends, living friends, and ponies she had never met before all spoke at once.
Her hooves grasped the metal framework. She hauled herself step over step to the top, where the gemstone sat encased in its shield. It was held in place by strong clamps, but the rear was a simple pin hinge. “Engineer he ain’t.”
She grasped one edge of the pin and twisted the cap. It resisted, but her muscles bulged. Bit by bit, it turned, unscrewing and snapping away from the hinge. She balanced along the tip of the archway and eased herself to the other side. The projectile was halfway to her.
Daring placed her hooves to the sides of the pin’s head and gave it a tug. A long, grinding screech echoed from the hinge. The metal bit into her hooves. She blew between her lips and pulled again. “Grr—come on, move! Move!”
The ball moved much faster than the pin.
She gave the incoming slug a glance. Three-quarters of the way. She was out of luck.
She straddled the top of the arch and jammed the gauntlet between the pinhead and the edge of the hinge. She wiggled her hoof and found leverage. She bent the gauntlet. The pin moved faster. She kicked out with her hind legs and sent a jolt through the framework. The grind became a squeak as the pin slid out of the hinge.
Daring took a deep breath, grasped the top of the shield, and hurled herself over the side. The enclosure came with her, pulled away by her weight. The volleygun slug hit its target, shattering the surface of the gemstone. Magic snatched the edges of Daring’s mane and tail. “Oops.”
She took off as fast as her legs could move, as the archway shuddered behind her. Within the space of a second, the metal support bowed and burst, sparked and screamed, crunched and crackled. Lightning arced to strike the ground beside Daring.
The gauntlet beeped, returning her to normal speed. She stopped beside Time Turner and hefted him onto her back. “Let’s get to Sparkle!”
Dulcimer flinched away as his time machine burst into a flaming ball of wreckage. His jaw dropped. His eyes shone white as power collected in his horn. “No!”
Twilight Sparkle tore herself away from the detonating spectacle. Her eyes fell to Daring and Time, both exhausted and hurt. They leapt to Dulcimer, whose spell was sure to wipe them from existence. She couldn’t stop him with a spell, or distract him with words. There wasn’t time to think.
She drove the crystalline shard into the side of his head.
The glow faded from his eyes. He looked at her, his eyebrows high, his ears flat. Her heart felt as though it collapsed in on itself.
“Twieee…” Dulcimer fell to his rump, then tumbled to his side.
Twilight covered her mouth. Bile rose as her stomach flipped. Her vision swam until all she could see was the shard and the wound.
A strong hoof jerked her back. “Stay close!” Daring said. “She’s gonna blow!”
Dulcimer lifted his head. “Don’ go…”
Daring threw the time bomb to the ground. It encased her, Twilight, and Time Turner in a bubble of magic, freezing them in their place.
Outside the bubble, every single atom in the room was rearranged in an explosion of magic and space-time. The murk and mayhem swirled around the three protected ponies, seeking purpose and form, but finding none. At long last, it succumbed to the laws of reality and settled as a thick blanket of dust.
The bubble cracked and shattered. Twilight hurled and broke down into silent sobs.
Daring Do rubbed her between the wings. “It’s okay, Sparkle. Let it out. There’s nothing in there you need to hold back.”
She looked up and saw something through the cloud of ashes. “Holy—” It was the full skeleton of an alicorn stallion, fused into a single formation of calcium. A crystal spike jutted out from the side of its skull. Hairline fractures ran over its surface. Tiny pieces fell off, one by one, until the entire thing shattered under its own weight.
Twilight puked again.
“I guess that goes to show just how much damage an alicorn can survive.” Daring Do shook the dust out of her tail. “At least one made by this crazy contraption. What do you say, Time? Shall we skip this joint?”
She turned her head to look at the stallion on her back. “Time?”
He looked at her through lidded eyes. He mumbled something under his breath.
Daring Do brought her hoof to his cheek and stared into his eyes. She touched his forehead. “No. No, come on, Time.” She shook Twilight’s shoulder. “Up! We aren’t done yet. We need to get out of this stupid place.”
She marched towards an open tunnel, hoping against hope that it was a way out. “Come on! We need to get Time to the hospital!”
***
Andean hovered over a plummet to the city miles below. The hurricane had moved while the battle raged. The eye wall neared the castle, and was sure to demolish it. His warriors and the ponies fighting alongside them were sorely outnumbered. His injuries were dragging him down. He was past hoping for a miracle.
Lanner laughed in his face. “If you surrender, I shall slay you swiftly!”
Andean growled and stabbed at the traitor. The younger griffon flitted aside. “It’s impressive you can still lift that sword. A lesser being would be dead by now.”
The two halves of the king’s beak ground together. “Do not forget… who is the better griffon here…”
Lightning lanced behind him. Luna’s magic gripped the clouds, more forcefully than ever, but faded just as quickly. The hilt of Andean’s sword squeaked as he dug his talons into it. “If you are so ready to rule, then end it, traitor.”
He lowered his broadsword. His sword hand mirrored his limp left arm. “Take the finishing blow, if you believe that to be your destiny. Take it if you truly believe you shall woo my daughter. Take it if you think yourself worthy to be the king of Felaccia. Cease your prattle and slay me!”
Lanner twirled his saber. “A tempting offer. I accept.”
He shot forward and plunged his sword into Andean’s stomach. He grinned up at the king and shifted his grip to twist. The broadsword fell from Andean’s talon.
With the speed of a bird of prey, Andean snapped his talon around Lanner’s neck. The traitor had time for a gasp before his air was cut off completely. Andean’s tendons pulled taut as he squeezed. His arm shook from the force.
Lanner reached up and scraped at Andean’s talons. He drew blood, but nothing could reduce the king’s grip.
“You would never be worthy to rule,” Andean said. “You would never be destined to take the throne. You would never be fit to so much as look upon my children.”
Lanner’s eyes bulged. His legs kicked feebly.
“Do you know why I am strong, Lanner?” he asked. “I have to be to protect my daughters. To make sure the world they grow up in is secure, and good, and hopeful. I am more powerful than any pegasus commander, or dark god, or wicked traitor, because I have something to fight for outside of myself. I have something to lose.”
He crushed the last of the life from Lanner. “And it is something I absolutely refuse to give up.”
He let the grenadier’s body be sucked into the storm. He looked down at the blade protruding from his stomach. He felt lightheaded.
Strong talons grasped him from either side. He turned to see two Blitzwings under his forelegs, holding him up. “Your Grace,” one said, “we’ll get you to the ground. We’ll handle these monsters.”
Andean shook his head. “No. I have to keep fighting. I have to protect… Corona… Stella…”
When he opened his eyes, there were no Blitzwings. Was that a pony lifting him? Were they both ponies, or was he just confused?
“Stella and Corona need their poppa,” a female voice said. “We’ll get you to ground. They’ll find you there.”
Andean wrinkled his forehead. His vision faded to black. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ribbon Wishes,” the voice said. “Rest now, Andean. Rest.”
***
The world came into clarity around Care Carrot. She had been thrown to her back. The disk sat above her nose, half its diameter embedded in the airship’s metal framework. “Holy…”
A rage-filled shriek sent a chill down her spine. She lifted her head to see Hurricane screaming and clawing at her helmet. The commander wrenched it off and tossed it across the canvas.
Hurricane’s hooves kicked her blades and scattered them. She spread her wings to call them back into position. She stood like that for too long, the pace of her breath picking up. She kicked a wingblade and thrust her wings out a second time.
Her head snapped towards Care. Blood oozed from her scar. Her eyes were no longer cold, but hot and seething. She bared her teeth and screamed.
Care Carrot clenched her jaw. “Oh boy.”
Hurricane launched herself at Care. The hooks on her boots flashed. She struck, and Care knocked the hoof aside. The commander clawed furiously, each swipe seeking a vital part of Care’s body. Captain Carrot jerked her eyes away from a vicious snap. She lowered her hooves to cover her stomach. The force field around her shoulders screamed and shuddered as blows rained down.
Hurricane looped the hook around a loose piece of armor and lifted Care into the air. They climbed upwards, to the top walkway. The commander sent the captain crashing against the meshwork. She jumped and brought Care down twice more, each time rougher than the last.
She held Care still and wedged her claws into the straps of Care’s helmet. She pried it off an inch at a time, scraping the skin on Care’s cheek. Care tried to push her off, but the commander was far, far too strong. The helmet came off and clattered to the bottom of the airship several meters below. Hurricane brought her blades up to drive them into the captain’s skull.
Care lashed out and hit Hurricane in the side of her unprotected face. Several more punches followed in quick succession. She grasped Hurricane’s neck and kicked her rear legs. She bashed the commander’s nose into the catwalk before shoving her over the side.
Captain Care charged her horn to blazing white and rained three fireballs on Hurricane’s body. The pegasus flapped her wings and caught two of them in a strong draft of air, extinguishing them. She sidestepped the third with a sneer.
Hurricane fell backwards from the walkway and swept up two blades in the wind created by her flight. She streaked towards Care and released the swords. One struck the meshwork, and one embedded itself in the rearmost gasbag’s framework.
Care cast a bubble of magic around the blade beside her. She wrenched it free and held it at the ready. The assassin had already scooped up two more and was flying towards her with the blades in tow. Care swung her blade and knocked the others aside.
Hurricane snatched one of the blades before it could fall. She brought it down on Care’s sword. The captain felt a painful pressure build up at the base of her horn. The commander struck indiscriminately, driving Care back. The captain held on until the pressure became too much. She tossed the blade at Hurricane, who grabbed it out of the air, rolled her foreleg, and threw it back.
It struck Care’s armored chest with enough force to carry her back a few inches. The force field sputtered and died. Hurricane swung hard, her blade aimed for Care’s neck.
Care shouted and grasped Hurricane’s body with her pink magic. She threw the commander against the gasbag with a flick of her horn. She let loose a wide spray of fire to give herself time to breathe.
Commander Hurricane sliced a hole in the lining. Care’s flames faded.
Captain Carrot sprinted away from Hurricane, towards the hum of the engine room. The door loomed before her, with the electromagnet powering the cannon just on the other side. A blade stabbed into the doorframe, but Care vaulted over it.
She found herself face-to-face with five loaded volleyguns. She slid on her rump, coming to a stop far too close for comfort.
“Shoot her!” Hurricane’s voice screamed. “Shoot her dead!”
A gun fired, and one of Hurricane’s warriors collapsed. Care took the opportunity to magically grasp the muzzles of the other four guns and point them at the ceiling. They went off with a crackle.
Blankety Blank ran from other side of the room, fumbling with a bag of sparkpowder and volleygun slugs. The powder flowed from the lip of his bag to the giant turbine dominating the rest of the room. “I’ll d-deal with the engine, you finish Hurricane!”
Care jumped to the side as a warrior tried to stab her with the volleygun’s blade. “Dunno if I can!”
“We g-gotta try!” Blankety stabbed the warrior in the leg, then turned the muzzle to another pony and fired point-blank. “Y-you’re a Knight of Harmony now! We do this kinda stuff!”
Care let out a single bark of laughter and picked up the unfired volleygun. She charged back towards the door.
Hurricane wrenched the blade from the frame. She looked up just before Care’s shoulder knocked her off her hooves. She flopped off of the walkway and landed headfirst on the one below it.
Care leaped, the volleygun held tight on her forelegs. She brought the metal tip down on Hurricane’s head and drew it back to fire. Hurricane swung her blade and knocked the gun out of alignment. She grabbed the wingblade in both forehooves and struck with all her might.
Care cast a spell and swept Hurricane’s rear hooves aside. The commander caught herself with her wings. A vicious flap drove wind into Care’s face and chest with the force of a buck. She slid on her back until she hit the bulkhead separating the inside of the envelope from the engine room.
Hurricane landed. She flapped one wing, then the other, buffeting Care with strong wind at each movement. She walked closer, slowly, a snarl spreading across her bleeding face.
Blankety Blank knocked a warrior down with a four-legged kick. He buzzed around the room, seeking a weakness to the engine. “Come on, there’s g-gotta be a way to blow this…” He paused. One of Hurricanes soldiers lay prostrate, moaning and grasping for something on their belt.
Blank landed on their stomach and sent them into unconsciousness. He plucked the round object from the pony and rolled it over in his hoof. He shook it, causing it to hiss. A pin held it closed.
A warrior snuck up behind him. His eyes lit up as he kicked the pony in the face. “I’ve s-seen these before. Grenades.” He looked around to see that all the warriors had more strapped to their belts. “Oh ho-ho. That will d-do nicely.”
Care brought the volleygun’s shaft up to halt the wingblade mid-swing. She bucked with her hind legs, but Hurricane dodged out of reach. The captain flipped upright and jabbed with the full length of the gun. Hurricane grabbed it with her left foreleg, yanking it aside, and moved closer to slide her sword across Care’s face.
Care snapped her teeth together, pushed as much power into her horn as she could, and grasped the blade in midair. Hurricane held the wingblade with one foreleg, her eyes widening as she looked at the pink glow encasing her sword. She strained her muscles, but didn’t budge.
They stood still, grasping each others’ weapons with all their might. Sweat poured from beneath Care’s bangs, and Hurricane’s scar blazed with fresh poison. Hurricane leaned close. “Nothing you can do will save this city.”
“Nothing you can do,” Care hissed, “will make a difference.”
She shoved Hurricane’s blade to the side and let it slice downward. It missed her body by a hair. Hurricane wobbled on her hind legs with the unexpected release. Care brought her free hoof up to hit Hurricane under the chin. She wrenched her volleygun away and brought the butt around to smack the commander between the eyes. She switched which hoof was holding her weapon so that she could hit Hurricane’s scar.
Hurricane flared her wings, shouting incoherently. Her body spasmed with the next punch to her cheek. She glared at Care and brought her wings down to blow her from the walkway.
Care grabbed the gun and jammed the tip beneath Hurricane’s wing. The commander howled. Care snatched the tip of her wing and stretched it out. She threw every ounce of available magic into her horn—more than she dared, more than was safe. She unleashed white-hot fire in a beam of cutting heat.
Hurricane’s severed wing fluttered to the canvas. Its coating of molten metal melted through the material and left a sizzling hole behind as it disappeared into the storm. Hurricane herself collapsed in writhing pain, grasping at the cauterized patch on her back.
Care—tired, nervous, and trembling—stood over Hurricane with a disbelieving, gap-mouthed expression. “Thus… to all dastards.”
Blankety Blank poked his head though the doorway. “Care! I’ve rigged the ship to blow! Get up here so we can g-get Velvet!”
“Right away!” Care saluted him with the volleygun. She looked down at Hurricane. “I gotta thank you, Commander. You’ve taught me some very important lessons about myself.”
Hurricane sneered.
“Well, not you specifically.” Care tilted her head and squinted. “Come to think of it, everything I learned was from other people. You know what? I don’t have to thank you. You were terrible.” She backed away, the muzzle of her volleygun aimed at Hurricane’s chest. “They’ll probably have to scrub you off of the Canterlot streets, you know. Enjoy that little thought. Bye.”
Hurricane laughed through bloodied teeth.
Care’s heart sunk. “Blank. Why’s the crazy mare with one wing happy?”
Blankety leaned down and grasped the walkway supports. “Shoot her! Shoot her now!”
Hurricane flicked her remaining wing. A small, feather-sized wingblade zipped through the air and struck Care’s shoulder. The captain lost strength in the leg and lost her balance. She fell down, down, down towards the hole in the canvas. She stretched her hoof out and grasped the frayed edge, holding on for dear life.
Hurricane stood up. She spat in Blank’s direction. “Come down, little changeling, and save your friend!”
“Blow it up, Blankety!” Care screamed. She looked down and saw Luna’s Dream’s Keep right below her. If she let go, maybe, just maybe, she could land on the roof.
The howling wind of the storm had other ideas.
“Kill her, Blank!” Care Carrot felt her body being ripped away from the canvas. “Destroy the Thunderhead! Do it!”
Blank looked from Care to Hurricane. “But…”
He sighed. He grasped the pin of the last grenade, pulled it out, and tossed it towards the engine. The small, round object rolled beside a pile of more than a dozen others. It ticked down.
The explosion was deafening.
The grenades blasted the turbine’s casing away. With nothing to hold it in, the electromagnet spun out of control across the room. Lightning and fire blossomed as it became a rolling inferno of splintering metal and molten filings. The propellers outside wound down before their motors were torn apart by thunderous blasts.
Care was thrown from the ship.
***
Orange Marmalade grinned at Twilight Velvet. Velvet only paid the warrior enough attention to make sure they didn’t try to escape.
Marmalade patted the floor as it rattled. “Ooh. Feel that? Sounds like your friends are having trouble.”
Velvet rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
Marmalade got up and strolled closer to Velvet. “They’re both goners, you know. Nobody can stop Hurricane.”
One of Marmalade’s fellow goons held up a hoof. “Easy, you’re gonna make her mad again—”
“Doesn’t matter, she’s on the losing side.” Marmalade stood proud before a glum Velvet. “So what about it, Chief? Not so high and mighty now, are you?”
The floor erupted with the blades of a spinning propeller, turning Orange Marmalade into a fine red mist.
The entire airship listed to the side. The envelope exploded as an entire gasbag ruptured all at once. Twilight Velvet dropped the volleygun and braced herself against the wall. She waved at the surviving crewmembers. “Either of you yahoos wanna live to see tomorrow?”
They both nodded.
“Then help me find some sort of parachute!”
***
Luna reeled as the eye of the storm moved over Canterlot Castle. Her magic was cast aside like it was nothing. Every bit of her strength was useless. Nothing she could do mattered.
“There’s another way,” Nightmare Moon said. “There always was, and there always will be.”
A hailstone shattered against Luna’s shield. Tears poured down her rain-slicked cheeks. “Leave me, you monster!”
“I am you.” Nightmare Moon touched Luna’s cheek with a gentle caress. “You need me.”
“No!” Luna shouted. “No, no! I never needed you!”
Nightmare Moon smiled. “Do you believe that? Do you really believe that?”
“I…” Luna sobbed. She turned around and attacked a different section of the storm. Again her horn felt a sharp pain as she was pushed back. “I need help.”
“There, there…” Nightmare Moon clicked her tongue. “It always gets easier after you admit—”
“Silence foul beast, created from naught but pain!” Luna glared at Nightmare Moon with bared, white teeth. “Thou art a worthless, fruitless imagination! A construct of an unwell mind! Leave at once! Leave my presence!”
Nightmare Moon’s face turned hard. She smiled as she faded into the rain. “You’ll call for me. You always do.”
Luna planted her four feet on the ground. She grasped the storm and struggled to hold on. Cracks formed in the pavement around her hooves. “But I still need help…”
She shut her eyes tight, her horn aglow. She reached to the bottom of her heart, and then moved outward, across the world, seeking and searching. “Help me, please. Help me.”
She raised her head and bellowed with a hoarse throat. “Celestia! Sister! Celestia!”