//------------------------------// // 3) Trickster // Story: Celestia Founding of Equestria // by Dan_s Comments //------------------------------// Trickster DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files are the property of Jim Butcher         He had awakened early, while both Luna and Celestia were sleeping. So when they awoke, he had a few pages of notes for them to review. "I think I have a few worlds you would be welcome to emigrate to. Most are high in magic, and have a group of people you'd fit in well with," he said, leaned over from the chair beside their bed and handed over the papers, "It just depends on what tech-level you're interested in, and the world-situation: peace, hidden battles against the villains, or open contesting with the villains."         "Is that your typical parameter?" Celestia asked as she shuffled through the papers.         "Considering our earlier conversation, yes," he replied, yawned and leaned back in the chair.         Celestia frowned at that, but looked over the offerings.         "I want to go on that mission you received," Luna said, "After all, it's better to go deal with these things on their own ground, than wait until they come after you."         Celestia glared at Luna, but she was too deep in the grip of her passion.         "You've been talking to Matilda again," the Trickster said and scratched Luna between the ears, "But your sister voiced some relevant concerns. This isn't going to be talking to people and making them see the error of their ways. They are people who survive on the death and suffering of others, they enjoy it and do all they can personally to promote it. There's only one permanent way to deal with immortals who have that mind set."         Celestia looked up from the papers. "Aren't you afraid that something worse will take their place?" Celestia asked.         He shook his head. "No, cause I'll kill them too," he replied, "The ones you have to be careful of, are the ones who are bad, but keep everything for the outsiders running smoothly. The ones who are greatly or marginally better. Those are the ones where you are on a slippery slope, if you keep eliminating them in the search for perfection. The ones that are worse are the easy ones. You've already set the bar, if they exceed it, you've made your judgement. If they come in below it, especially well below it, then you have some hard thinking and soul-searching to do."         Celestia squirmed at the thought of that, and the determination with which he held his opinions. I can imagine why he's the ax-pony for so many other beings. He's a set standard, and they don't have to worry about the morality. Just send him in and let him sort it out, Celestia thought and was disgusted by the idea, They keep their hands clean and can deny having a hoof in the results. Wonderful. -----------------------------------         They had assembled around the table in the 'kitchen' of the home. "Okay, the plan is very simple. Everyone elses' plans are where this takes special handling," he told the two alicorns as he laid out a diagram the looked like a very determined, and very drunken spider had decided to create a mobius web. Celestia realized it was a simplified version of the relationship diagram, but on a flat surface.         He pointed to one particular knot on the diagram, a line from nearly every other focus on the diagram led to that knot. "This is everyone elses' target." He tapped on a smaller, less crowed cluster that he'd deliberately been put onto the edge. "That one is ours, but, we're going to let everyone think we're playing their game, while we play our own. Red are enemy antagonists, blue are allied friends, orange are friend antagonists and black are allied enemies."         Celestia noted that the elements of the cluster had different 'webs' radiating out from them. This has been refined since I saw it last, she realized. While some were similar there were other knots that had only one connection to the cluster. Luna kept shaking her head and staring at the complicated assembly.         "Now, these three groups are trying to take him out," he indicated three groups strongly linked to the central nexus by red lines. "But they all hate each other, and they're all absolutely wedded to the idea that they have to be the smartest in the room." He indicated the mostly red lines among the groups and entirely to the other groups.         "The truly smart one would know when to be clever and when to be direct," Luna said.         He nodded to her. "Correct," he said, "Like I said, their five main targets are here. Weaken the support structure and the assumption is the whole edifice will collapse."         "So we hit them directly?" Celestia asked, nervous at the idea of engaging so many in what might be a very brutal fight.         "No. We just disrupt their plans. For example, the opening action: They're sending vampires against these werewolves." He tapped the cluster and glanced at the two sisters. "And that doesn't spring a plan into mind?"         Celestia shook her head. Luna was pondering.         "One of you controls a sun, the other a moon, and you can't figure out how to tip a vampire versus werewolf fight in the werewolves' favor?" he asked then sighed and tapped a pair linked with a wide blue line. "Okay, these guys. They're going to be both trickier, and much simpler. Luna simply walks up and tells them about the threat and that a safe house is available. No artifice or cunning, just be your adorable self and tell them the truth. 'I don't know' is a completely acceptable answer."         Celestia snorted at Luna's outrage at 'cute-ing her way to victory'.         He tapped the most convoluted and intricate of the webs, save that around the core. The lines were only mostly reds and blacks. A few blue lines wound through the collection. "This one is going to take close handling. We have to take them while they're vulnerable, but before the enemy is ready. Then we simply wait for the assault and the enemy will run right into our guns," he said.         "How can you assure that reaction?" Celestia said, "That goes counter to the whole 'being too subtle for their own good' part."         He grinned and leaned back. "Excellent, you were listening. We hurt them, humble their pride, and tell them it's a trap they can't hope to win," he said, "You favor elegant plans for a bit of artistry, and to contain collateral damage. Everything here is apperances, not effect. They favor elegant plans because that's how they are graded among these others. They're still thugs at heart. Take off the safeties, and thugs they'll be again. The trouble is, thugs depend on animal cunning, not human intelligence, and the animal brain has been keeping them alive and fed for millions of years. They'll be direct, not stupid. So the human ego needs to be inflamed, so while the animal tries to be effective, the human wants the hurt to stop. That pits them against themselves and reduces their options."         "What would you do in their place?" Luna asked.         "Go somewhere, cool down, and hit them with overwhelming firepower. The survivors write the history. If they're all gone, then all anyone needs to know is that you won," he said and smiled at Celestia's horrified expression, "You only have to do that once or twice, and people quit assuming you take the gentle option out of weakness."         "What if they prove more reasonable than you think?" Luna asked, "Legends are that vampires and other such creatures are very old and experienced."         "Age comes with experience only for people. These are just a collection of drives and hungers, with a patina of humanity daubed over them. They aren't people as you'd define it. The elves are the worst, but I don't want to draw too many different forces into the battle. Too many schemes and schemers just confuses things. Have your plan and be ready to abandon it the moment it doesn't serve."         "So, she's the 'must have', destroy as many of them as we can is a 'good to have'," Celestia said.         "No, destroying that one is the 'good to have', the rest are a 'nice to have'," he said, "Go on."         "The vampires are a 'nice to have', protecting all these, are they a 'must have' or a 'good to have'?" Celestia asked.         "Family is a must, the others are a good," he said and pointed to a small cluster with only one link to the rest of the maelstrom of alliances and associations, "Because of that." He pointed to that one blue link. "If we protect the family, we draw a bit of additional power down to look after us. Protecting the protectors. And it also introduces you two to another useful faction of Beatrice and Matilda's people. Always good to get your brand out there for potential allies to see."         "Good to have," Celestia murmured as she stared.         "Won't they be hostile, considering Mald's reaction?" Luna asked.         "No," he said, "Because we'll be protecting who they're charged with protecting, and, we're going to tell them the plan and who hired me. Mald, I keep out of the loop, which is why she has such a problem with me. It isn't who she knows I work for, it's all the people she doesn't know I work for."         He looked at the deeply concentrating alicorns. "It's all about balance. A bit of paranoia will keep you alive. Too much and you can't deal even with your friends. It's that balance we have to strike. In this case, I want them to know right from the start. Mald makes assumptions there's more than she sees, even when she's seeing everything. These four are more straightforward and will trust the truth when it's presented to them."         Luna put a hoof to her forehead. "I'm getting a headache," she said.         "It's like flying, there are currents and cross-currents. Learning to ride them is a skill like any other," he explained.         "So she's and protecting her family are the only 'must haves'; and destroying that one is the only 'good to have'; killing as many of them, and keeping them fighting each other, are the 'nice to haves'?" Celestia asked.         "Protecting the wizard's support network is a 'nice to have', igniting a full up war between these factions is a 'nice to have'," he said, "And finding out who's been directing her towards things she really should stay away from is a 'good to have'. Destroying that person/entity will be a very lucrative 'nice to have'. Presenting the head of someone mucking things up is always better than just giving their name." He looked at Celestia's frown. "You don't have to remove it first, I just find that eases transportation problems."         He grinned at Celestia's disgusted look. "Okay, the condition to leave in. As long as the intervention on the girl is complete and the family is safe, any condition other than on our shields is acceptable. We can leave in triumph, or skulk out like beaten dogs. I'm not planning on coming back, so what they think of me is immaterial. The next step back is the intervention. That'll come after we deal with a number of these folks. I've got the speech written and even practicied it a few times. It'll work. Killing the leader and a few of his top minions should point out that I'm not to be trifled with. That'll make me scary enough that a unadulterated 'scared straight' should work wonders. You two are going to be looking after the children. I'd rather events leave them delighted, instead than frightened. Somehow slaughter of even as vicious monsters as these doesn't fit you or them."         "Most assuredly," Celestia said, "Thank you for granting us an honorable way out."         The Trickster smiled again. "Caught that did you? Well, done, very well done."         "So is our innocence a 'nice to have' or a 'good to have'?" Luna asked.         "Most of it is a must have, some of it, is a good not to have. Letting you see the worlds run by different rules is important. Whether you hate something or not, to be ignorant of it is to give it a power all out of proportion with it's actual importance," he said.         "Back to the plan. So we swoop in and rescue the werewolves, warn the crime boss, collect the family, kill the bad guys, deliver a scary lecture and then leave?" Celestia said, "That's it? That's the whole plan?"         "You think there'd be an intricate timetable of going to a particular street at a particular time and call down this exact force at this exact time?" the Trickster asked, "This doesn't have or need those complications. This isn't dependant on outside forces coordinating. This is just us and we can discuss any problems and difficulties."         "Aw," Luna said, pouting cutely.         "How are we supposed to synchronize our watches if you two don't even wear them?" the Trickster said, "This is a fast commando raid, not a determined campaign. The Mission Orders stand, and we figure out the best way to implement them. Okay. Names of the main, and many protagonists. It always affects people when you know their name and have never met them."         Celestia decided that if 'meeting the powers' was necessary, she had one more to meet, and the Eye Lord might be able to make the introductions. When we go in, I want an ace in the hole for these creatures to face, she thought as she considered the plan and when best to bring the help. -----------------------------------         Celestia could feel that these four, six-eyed, essentially-humanoid creatures were of the same order as Matilda and Beatrice, but of vastly greater power. The room was an abstraction, and the 'table' on which the plan was laid wasn't really there at all. Celestia was feeling a bit queasy about constantly dealing with people who treated the moral, social and natural order she'd grown up with, as a pleasant fiction.         Hence the hand covering their six-eyes as the Trickster laid out his plan was gratifying. At least I'm not the only one who reacts that way, Celestia thought.         "Why would he not want her as a servant?" their leader asked when told who had hired this rescue mission.         "Do you want the real answer, or the one that works and will let you sleep at night?" the Trickster asked.         I know which I'd ask for, Celestia thought as the creatures regarded the Trickster with ill-concealed horror.         "You would willingly lie to us?" another of the six-eyed humanoids asked.         "Not deceive, simply oversimplify," the Trickster said.         The four glanced at each other for a moment, communicating too fast for mortals to comprehend. Celestia concentrated on Luna, crouching under the diagram, trying to figure out how the 'table' worked. She smiled that her sister's reaction to all this insanity was to investigate. There's also a danger to it, Celestia realized, The same danger that we are rescuing the girl from. Looking too deeply into the abyss.         "Give us both, reversing the order presented," the leader said, sounding almost tired.         "He does want her eventually, when she could be like me, able to deal with them rationally," the Trickster said.         "For a given value of 'rational'," the other speaker said.         So sarcasm isn't beyond them, Celestia thought.         "True. Right now, he'd get another cultist, which is the last thing he wants," the Trickster said, "So delaying the meeting is in his best interests. And he needs an intermediary who understands human psychology. If I can lighten your burden along the way, that's just being a good neighbor."         "And the real reason?" the leader asked.         The Trickster turned to Celestia and Luna. "Put you hooves over your ears and hum real loud," he ordered, "You do not want to hear this."         Both alicorns did as ordered. As soon as he began speaking, the others acted as though he were beating them with the rotting corpse of a diseased animal. They flailed as if fending off the words, and were utterly disgusted by what they heard. When he stopped, he signaled Celestia and Luna to 'unstopper' their ears. Both alicorns trotted over and hugged the stricken creatures. Nuzzles, wing hugs and soft murmurings that it was over and they would be fine were welcomed.         The Trickster's 'all according to plan' smirk was ignored by both alicorns as the subjects of their soothing came back to themselves.         "Thank you," the leader told Celestia and Luna, "And thank you for trying to spare us that. Would twer that we had taken you up on your offer. The reasoning was quite sound, and almost true."         The Trickster nodded.         "Unfortunately, we cannot interfere, even though we would applaud snapping his neck. Hoist by his own petard," the Leader said, "Our presence can defend only what we are mandated to protect."         "Hence my presence here, an existential threat is something a mortal can deal with," the Trickster said, then he turned to Celestia, "That's the big problem, as you move up the chain of power, even your most delicate and carefully thought out action creates ripples. But a mortal can do a thousand times that with nary a ripple, because we aren't ruled by the grand cosmic forces. Another reason I buy what I want, instead of getting 'great deals' on rentals."         "And the Outers are also bound?" one of the ones who'd remained silent to that point asked.         "How do you think they are 'bound out of the universe', a universe they ruled unchallenged for Galactic years?" the Trickster asked, "Only mortals have truly free will and are free to act outside of the realms of destiny and purpose."         "You have our acceptance of your plan, but the man must not be harmed, beyond a reasonable amount to secure him," the Leader said.         "This sword doesn't have to slice people's arms and legs off," the Trickster said and patted the long blade on his back.         Again all four of the beings facepalmed, much to Celestia's confusion. "What's wrong?"         "Story for another time," the Trickster said, "I'll tell you at the right moment, but I will tell you that most of my strongest healing magic was taught by an Outer, as they call them."         Celestia stared. The Eye-Lord would be my guess, but that's probably wrong, she thought.         "Luna, if you haven't figured it out, you aren't going to," he said, and grinned at Luna's pout, "They've got a schedule, and so do we."         He walked away, and Luna reluctantly fell in beside. Celestia trotted up to the other side. "You were expecting more overt assistance from them?"         "Not really. They are bound by codes that are unbreakable, and I can respect that. When a battle output can be measured in megatons per second, you actually want them to say on the sidelines," he said, "Besides, you were talking about ancient experience giving advantages? They proved that in a way that is immensely helpful."         "How?" Luna asked.         "They wanted to be there when I snapped his neck," the Trickster said, "I never mentioned how I planned to bypass the invulnerability charm. They just told me my idea will work."         Celestia stared at the grinning figure and realized he was operating at levels far above her own. I'd better fix that, she thought, Or there's going to be trouble in the future.         They appeared in a warehouse. The office they'd materialized in had a good view of the crates and shelving that dominated the entire building, and of a knot of young men and women surrounding another youth who was lying in a heap on the ground. The dark, distorted figures who flowed from shadow to shadow had the attention of the youths, but they couldn't focus on them.         "Our eyes let us see them," she whispered in the Trickster's ear, Luna nodded.         "All of us. Let the players assemble," the Trickster said, "Then the cavalry can ride over the hill. Important effect on morale to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory."         The figures resolved themselves, and soon out-numbered and surrounded the youths. The heap suddenly stood and dashed through both lines to one of the shadows in particular.         "The brave knights trying to save the damsel," the shadow said, patting the young woman who'd been the bait, "Never realizing they were heroing their way into a trap. Your blood will be sweet."         "We aren't afraid of you," the leader of the youths called.         "Here it comes," the Trickster whispered to the alicorns.         "In the dark of the moon, you think you are a match for us?" the shadow said and laughed.         A brilliant sun and a full, round moon appeared over the collection, bathing them in their gold and silver light. The shadows fell to the ground screaming. The youth gained strength and confidence. A single gun shot removed the head of the shadow's leader, and the shadows writhed and screamed in earnest. Celestia watched the Trickster survey the room through the scope of the sniper rifle he'd just used. The sun moved through the warehouse, catching out those shadows who'd held back. The moon accompanied the youths as they methodically struck down the shadow creatures with stakes and large, butchering knives.         "That's all of them," the Trickster said and slung the rifle, "Time to go."         "Some escaped," Luna said.         "Yes, and we need them to report back what happened." The Trickster was trotting down the stairs out the back of the office, then galloped towards an open door. Celestia and Luna followed, as did their sun and moon.         "Heigh ho, Silver! And away!" the Trickster shouted back into the warehouse as they galloped off into the night, cloaking their sun and moon as they ran.         "What was that about?" Celestia asked once he called a halt, and somehow slipped the unloaded rifle down the back of his shirt.         "Luna blends in with the darkness, but you kind of stand out. So I played a little bit of disinformation," the Trickster said.         " 'Disinformation'?" Celestia asked.         "I gave them wrong information on purpose. There's a creature of legend that rode a horse that looked a lot like you. I just gave his battle cry, so that would be reported up the various chains of command. Neither side will know what to make of it, so it'll confuse both and rather than discard it as idiocy, they'll try and figure out how it's part of a cunning plan."         Luna snickered at that. "What was the horse's name?"         "Silver," the Trickster told them, "In this world, horses and ponies aren't sapient to a great degree."         Celestia snorted at the implied insult that she was a riding beast, but let it pass. I can see the purpose of confusing our enemies, she admitted.         "Okay, here's where we split up." He placed an amulet around Luna's neck. "This will lead you to the girl, then back to us. If you get in trouble, raise a ruckus, and use the amulet to call for help. We'll find you."         "I don't think I shall have too much problem," Luna said, tone dripping with sarcasm, "I only need to remember to be cute." She spread her wings and lifted into the air.         Even with Celestia's enhanced eyesight, Luna was soon lost to view. "Are you going to tell her that she's even more adorable when she gets all pouty?" Celestia asked.         "When the information would serve her, and I need my internal organs on the outside and thoroughly stomped on, then yes," the Trickster said, "Not before." He sighed. "Now is part of the operation I really don't want to do, but I'm afraid I have no choice."         "Oh, warning the crook," Celestia said, remembering their briefings.         "Much as I'd like to let the other villains eat the crime boss of Chicago, it would upset my plans," the Trickster said, and they vanished from the deserted streets, to reappear outside a very fancy building. The Trickster stared at her. "I'm afraid you're going to be too conspicuous as a pony."         "You can change me into a human if that helps," Celestia said, not liking that shapechanging was one of her weakest skills. She looked at her altered form. Fortunately, he hadn't burdened her with much in the way of clothes.         "Perfect, just be your charming self, and we'll be fine," he told her, "And if someone pinches or fondles you, belt them into next week." He handed her a small clutch purse. Something he'd prepared for this eventuality and failed to mention to her.         She opened the little clutch purse and removed the mirror she knew would be in there. The face looking back was recognizably her, but human as well. Her hair, while shorter was still colored and billowing like her mane. She almost approved. "Violence doesn't have to be the answer to everything," Celestia told him.         "Then hold him off the ground by his throat and politely request an apology," the Trickster said as he checked the very tasteful suit he'd transformed his travel clothes into.         Rainbow Dash would approve, Celestia said as they approached the door. A large man in an elegant uniform opened the doors for the people entering. Celestia noted that most of the people showed a card to the man, something they didn't have.         The Trickster opened his wallet and showed the guard something that made the guard unhappy. "Tell the rest of the security force that there's going to be an attempt on Mister Marcone, whether it's a kidnaping or assassination I don't know."         The guard seemed unwilling to open the door for them. The Trickster gestured and the door opened of its own accord. Celestia followed him in.         "What did you show him?" she whispered.         "The badge of the Federal Agency he was most afraid of," the Trickster said, "That's why I stayed direct, let the fear work on him so he wasn't thinking." He paused to look around, then set off in a particular direction. The man at the table surrounded by other men, and a few women dressed as Celestia was, all tensed as the Trickster approached.         "This is a private party, sir," one of the men stepped in front of the Trickster.         "I have information on an attempt on Mister Marcone's life or his freedom, I'm a competitor of Mister Dresden," the Trickster said.         The man smiled, "And your name?"         "It's Japanese, but in English it's Wide Island Long-Cape," the Trickster said, "And I've heard all the jokes. But I think you might want to let Mister Marcone decide whether you throw me out on my ear, or you break my kneecaps first, then throw me out. After you've warned him."         The man nodded to another of the guards, but he and the Trickster just stared at each other. The guard glaring, the Trickster smiling, until the other man returned and escorted the Trickster and Celestia to the table.         The man didn't look happy at the interruption. "You have information?"         "The Red and White Courts have put aside their differences, enlisted the aid of one Nicodemus, and they are going to take concerted action against Mister Dresden. Said action is to first remove his support structure. You're name is on that list."         Celestia watched as the men, and several of the women tensed at the seemingly innocuous words. But Celestia felt something wrong, like what she had first perceived as the Trickster's aura. A feeling of glass grinding on glass, but felt rather than heard. She scanned the patrons, then looked at the ceiling.         "MOVE!" she shouted as she threw herself aside.         What dropped from the ceiling looked like a distorted version of a gorilla she'd seen pictures of. But the fangs and claws told her it wasn't. The fact it's head separated from the rest of it's body was a clue that the sudden movement of the Trickster had a lethal effect.         When the blood of the severed head and body began pooling towards each other, Celestia suspected it was time to leave.         "No you don't," the Trickster said as he removed a vial from a pocket and poured it onto the blood as the pools joined and began dragging the head towards the body. He turned to Mister Marcone and his guards, male and female. "I think you may want to get out of here, to some place with clear lanes of fire and something heavier than a few pistols."         "I could use your help, and the pay's good," the man said. He seemed unruffled at just having a massive assassin drop off the ceiling at him.         "Unfortunately, I have a contract at the moment," the Trickster said, "But you should be able to engage your ally. A little extra firepower will probably be welcome. As I said, they're only peripherally after you. It's him they want."         "I'll remind him," Mister Marcone said, "And thank you."         "You're welcome." The Trickster lead Celestia away before she could say anything.         "If that's what's coming after him, how can they stop it?" Celestia asked.         "That thing is a rare beast. I think they sent out the A-team first, instead of slow escalation. Fortunately, we have the A+-team," the Trickster said as they threaded through the club to the door. Some of the people were just starting to panic, and others had the sense to leave while the getting was good.         Once out on the street, the Trickster canceled both spells and indicated the direction they would travel. He ran, and Celestia easily kept up.         "Why didn't you take him with? Surely the people we're going to have dealings with know him," she said.         "They know him, and they don't like him," the Trickster replied as he slowed to a walk, "I would much prefer that the creature kill him, but not in so public a place. It would probably eat the rest of the patrons next."         "So, he's to draw off the other attackers while we deal with a more limited front. Ruthless, if it works. That material you poured on it's blood, a poison?" Celestia asked.         "More like a purification. It was holy oil, something I got from Beatrice. The real deal," the Trickster said, and looked at Celestia, "No acid would be as effective. That thing was a piece of uttermost darkness. That oil would be devastating on its skin, in it's bloodstream? It doesn't warrant thinking about."         "Because you don't want to offend me by enjoying a murder," Celestia said.         "Different world here, life is cheap. Parasite predators like Marcone are matched by others of a more supernatural build," the Trickster said, "This is a game preserve and they all work very hard to make sure the prey doesn't know they outnumber and outgun anything the predator parasites have. The name I gave is a pun, another item that will tickle at the awareness of the schemers. The target of all the schemers shares the name of a city that was burned to the ground in a firestorm, like this city of Chicago was."         "How does Wide Island Long-Cape warn them of anything?" Celestia asked.         "Someone will translate them into Japanese, and come up with Hiroshima Nagasaki, and then they'll really start asking questions." ------------------------------         For a few hours they walked the nearly deserted streets and talked, really talked. The Trickster had revealed that he hadn't always been so hard-bitten, but experience and many bad adventures had taught him to study extensively before a job, and take everything cynically. To expect the worst to happen and prepare for it.         To Celestia, it seemed a sad way to live.         "On the contrary," the Trickster said, "I walk through life being constantly and pleasantly surprised. Such as how you're going to handle those two mounted officers who've become interested in us." He nodded to the two men riding two immense horses.         Celestia looked at the very serious looking men, on the two, slightly skittish horses. She felt her ears flatten and she glared at the Trickster. Horses don't talk here, so what do I do? she wondered.         "I'm just practicing my ventriloquism with my dummy here. I couldn't really practice in the hotel," Celestia told them, and gestured at the Trickster, "I've managed to get him toilet trained so I am giving him a nice long walk to see if he can restrain himself from decorating the trees."         The officers murmured to each other, one nodded to them, and both trotted away.         "You didn't have me say anything," the Trickster said, "Some ventriloquist you are."         Celestia stuck out her tongue at the man.         The sun was coming up as they approached their target. Celestia grabbed the Trickster by the collar and vaulted to the top of a building to watch the sunrise. She felt the rays of this planet's sun resonating with her cutie-mark, and she felt renewed. When she looked at the Trickster, she noted his almost serene smile.         "See. I didn't say I couldn't delight in others playing and reveling in the world, it's just that while you were feeling the sum and substance of the world, I was watching out for threats."         "Don't you ever relax and feel the sum and substance of the world?" Celestia asked.         "Very rarely. And almost never while I'm on a job," the Trickster said, "Stopping to smell the roses is fine, after you and those you're trying to protect are safe. And frankly, that's one reason I don't mind dealing with people even harder than me. Because they'll protect me, when I stop and smell the roses."         "And you wouldn't trust me to do it?" she asked.         "No, not because you're unwilling, but because you're unready. You spotted that thing when it dropped from the ceiling. I spotted it when I walked in the building. It's how I knew where Marcone was. And it's how I knew the Red and White Courts specifically were after him, it was their monster."         "Oh," Celestia said.         He gently stroked her mane. "You're learning. Don't try to become me, but be able to be me for a moment, then set it aside. I can be the carefree youth that you and Luna are, but it's no longer who I am," he said, then pointed, "And there's our target." The pick-up truck pulled into the field surrounding a set of concrete slabs.         He jumped off the roof towards Michael Carpenter, Celestia stifled a scream as she leapt after him, only to find he was falling very slowly. "Why didn't you tell me you could fly?"         "I'm a wizard, of course I can fly. Only the most inept can't figure out a way," he replied as they landed on the street and trotted over to the man who had stopped unloading his tools from his truck to stare at them. He briefly took hold of a hammer, but set it back down and just stared at them.         Staring mostly at me, Celestia thought, I'd better get used to that. The Trickster is used to weird, but wouldn't the friend of a wizard also be used to weird stuff too?         "Mr. Carpenter," the Trickster said, "There is a problem with your daughter that needs to be addressed."         Michael stiffened and stared.         "This isn't a Faustian bargain, more like a Cease and Desist order, from the concerned party," the Trickster said.         "I would think they would want her to continue," Michael said.         "Not when the, let's call it jurisdictional friction, would be as immense as it is. My patron regards it as implied poaching, not an accusation that would be good to be in the middle of. This world has enough problems without adding two more powers to the regional conflicts," the Trickster said.         Michael nodded. Celestia wished she knew for certain what they were talking about. He said Michael works for Beatrice's people, I can infer, but only guess, she thought, and shied, that through the entire conversation, Michael had been staring at her, and not the Trickster.         "And are you part of the rescue, Celestia?" Michael asked her.         She was shocked that he recognized her, or at least knew her name. "I am," Celestia said and was shocked Michael just gratefully accepted.         "What do you need from me?" Michael asked.         "A few things, there's also a number of unpleasant individuals who are going to be targeting you and your family. I need to get you all to a safe location. I also will need you to sign papers to purchase a van. I'll pay, but I can hardly carry your entire brood on my back."         Michael smiled and nodded.         "You seem to accept this rather too readily," Celestia said.         "He's planning to strike at the opportune moment," the Trickster said and grinned at Michael, who looked sheepish in reply, "I have until then to convince him it's not in his best interest."         Michael snorted at that.         " 'Behold, I send you forth as sheep in the midst of wolves: be ye therefore wise as serpents, and harmless as doves', Yeshua Ben Yosef," the Trickster said.         "Sounds like good advice," Celestia said.         "You have no idea," the Trickster said, and even Michael chuckled.         "If you two know this man's quotes, maybe you'd like to share?" Celestia said.         The Trickster pulled a tiny folio from an inside pocket, and looked at it. "What am I doing?" He looked at Michael. "You've got a reference version in your truck?"         Michael nodded and handed over a proper tome. The two men shared a chuckle as Celestia opened it, and found it was written in a language she could read.         She read and followed as the two men walked towards a huge collection of vehicles in field. ------------------------------         Driving the vehicle to the safe house had been a painless affair. Celestia had a lot of questions about the events in the book. The debate between the Trickster and Michael had been polite, but they both admitted that a lot of what was there was intentionally open to interpretation.         "I can hardly credit both of you honestly claiming to adhere to this man's teachings," Celestia said as the van, basically a box full of benches on wheels, arrived at the safe house. The area was mostly boarded-up houses, and this one was no different.         But it feels different, Celestia thought as she looked at the place, Welcoming, almost.         The Trickster was pointing at the sky and when Celestia shaded her eyes, she saw Luna, carrying a large man in her legs, while a young girl sat astride her back, practically buried in her mane.         "They're coming," Luna announced as she landed, gently dropping off the man, then alighting on her hooves, "I thought I lost them, but they always found us again."         "Probably a tracking spell," the Trickster said, ignoring the unspoken communication between Michael, and the new arrivals, who were presumably The Archive and Kincaid.         The absolute stare she was getting from the girl was almost as frightening as her first exposure to the Trickster. But here I think it is questions, not alienness that'll have me disturbed, Celestia wondered, Do they know me, did the Trickster send out dossiers on myself and Luna before we arrived?         "What did they look like?" the Trickster asked.         "Like that," Luna said and pointed at what looked like five lampreys with their tails tied together. But as they closed, their entire bodies opened up to reveal the lampreys were all mouth. Several more appeared behind the first.         "My magic had no effect on them," Luna said.         "It wouldn't, they aren't really there," the Trickster said as he pulled the sniper rifle from his coat, and handed it to Kincaid. Followed by a clip of ammunition.         "This will work better?" Kincaid asked as he loaded.         "With the shells it's loaded with, yes," the Trickster replied as he ushered Michael and The Archive, still astride Luna, into the house.         "Every little girl wants a pony," the Trickster said, "Celestia, you'll have a better chance. Gravity and intense magnetic fields." He took aim with his finger.         "Why doesn't she just use the Elements?" Kincaid asked.         "Elements?" Celestia and the Trickster asked. Kincaid mumbled something about 'never mind'.         "I'm not a sun," Celestia told him, then blinked and summoned her sun and directed it towards the creatures.         Kincaid hit the first one with his first shot. It folded up like a flower going to sleep, then winked out of existence. The bolt from the Trickster did the same. The rest fled, but Kincaid and the Trickster got another each.         "What happens if I turn this on you?" Kincaid asked, not pointing the rifle at the Trickster or Celestia, but clearly sizing them up as the Trickster watched the creatures depart out of range.         "I would be terribly shocked at the gross violation of convention," the Trickster said jauntily, then turned towards Kincaid and his face hardened, "Then I'd let it eat you."         Kincaid slung the rifle over his shoulder. "Just checking."         "Let's go inside."         "Too bad one got away," Kincaid said.         "They won't be able to find us later if they didn't," the Trickster said, "And I want them to come charging in here. Straight into our fire."         "You're crazy," Kincaid observed.         "You have no idea," Celestia agreed. She stepped up beside the Trickster. "You were joking, weren't you?" She nodded towards the rifle Kincaid carried.         "Yes, it's a vegetarian," the Trickster said.         Celestia rolled her eyes. ------------------------------         Celestia enjoyed the talk with 'Ivy' as she preferred to be called, rather than 'the Midget' which Kincaid called her. It seems incongruous that while we're having this discussion, she's braiding Luna's mane, Celestia thought, I'm not jealous that Ivy adores Luna.         Luna was avidly reading Michael's book, and trying out the strangely accented language within.         Celestia smiled at that. Anything to appear older and wiser, but she seems to have gotten the 'thees' and 'thous' right, and Ivy has been helping.         The house was well kept despite it's derelict outer appearance. The couches in the main room were enough to seat everyone, and all those who were coming. The rugs on the hardwood floor were old and worn, but not threadbare. Celestia scanned the room, ignoring the very out of date, striped wallpaper and rested on Kincaid and Michael, who were in conference, presumable about how to get the upper hand on the Trickster when he arrived back. When he arrived back with Michael's entire family.         The sound of the garage door opening signaled the end of the planning time, and the call to action. As much as I hate doing this, I think I need to be on the Trickster's side, she thought as she and Luna stood to greet the group entering the garage in the van.         Kincaid accompanied them, while Michael held back. The sound of the garage door closing, and the squabbling of children gave the scene a homey feel it really should have lacked.         "Pizzas will be here in about an hour," the Trickster's voice came. He smiled as Celestia entered the garage.         "Princess Celestia!" one of the younger girls squealed on seeing her, and that instantly brought a full on charge by over half the kids. The eager young faces surrounded her, chattered at her, touched her fur, grabbed at her wings, and generally made her uncomfortable with their near-worshipful gazes.         'Princess'? she wondered as she tried to turn around to lead them into the house. One boy stood back, hands in his pockets glaring at his siblings.         "Does that mean I'm a princess too, Princess Celestia?" Luna asked as she moved past the only way she could, flying over Celestia and the crowd of youngsters to land in the garage beside the Trickster and a woman Michael's age.         The boy stared at the Trickster. "You got Luna too?! Cool!" And Luna also had her own admirer. Celestia snickered at her sister's discomfort at the less intense but still worshipful gaze. What spurred Celestia and Luna to clearing the kids away was not the pink-haired girl with the hate-filled expression aimed at the Trickster, but the tall man who got out of the passenger front seat. He was an exact duplicate of the man currently awaiting an opportunity to assist Kincaid with his ambush. Even Kincaid was nonplused by the new arrival. Plans crumble all around, Celestia thought, That's why the mission orders, keep track of what's important only.         "Luna, let's take them inside," she said, sounding jovial and calm, while urging Luna to move with all speed.         Luna gathered up the boy. "Race ya!" she said and dashed inside. Celestia nearly matched her sister as she ushered them all inside, and closed the door behind her. Leaving the eldest daughter, the mother, Kincaid and the Trickster with the imposter.         "Dad, what are you doing in here, you were out there?" the boy asked.         "Magic," Celestia said, "Let me check on your mom." She left Luna, Michael and Ivy to settle the kids, get their coats off and keep them away from what was transpiring in the garage. She got out to the garage, after closing the corridor door behind her.         "Your husband is inside," the Trickster said, and drew his sword and struck with a speed beyond what Celestia would have believed possible. The creature with Michael's form was pinned to the wall with the blade through him writhed, as its disguise disintegrated. "Your husband is safe inside, I apologize for picking him up separately, but we needed him to calm down Mister Kincaid." The Trickster glanced at the man, as if offering him a chance to strike. Kincaid declined the invitation.         The Trickster seemed to ignore the increasingly fluid thing that was losing its semblance of humanity faster and faster, becoming a shadowy shape of exaggerated teeth and claws. But swipe and strike and kick as it did, the Trickster was just out of reach. Celestia looked at Kincaid, and saw the man was reconsidering whatever plan he and Michael had worked out.         The Trickster continued to ignore the thrashing and silent wailing of the dying thing pinned to the wall and drew out a device and opened it like a clamshell. "Detective Murphy, paper and pencil handy? Yes we're at 4678 Circle Drive, in Wilmette, yes the place they're demolishing to put in the new subdivision. Someone is going after friends of a troublemaker of our mutual acquaintance, I have Michael and Charity, and their family in what amounts to protective custody, and I'd appreciate if you and some of those with a less tarnished view of our mutual friend come here under that same protection. Really Detective, such language. And I've even bought pizza, enough even for your group. Oh course you can talk to her, it's not like I'm a monster." He glanced at the creature on the wall who was slumping after its struggles. "Here she is."         He handed the phone to the Charity, and motioned Kincaid over. While Charity assured 'Karen' that they were all right, she did urge her to come. Then she closed the device and handed it back.         "She'll call Harry and be here with an entire SWAT team," the pink-haired girl said defiantly.         "I certainly hope so," the Trickster said, "Although I wasn't able to locate the redoubtable wizard, cutting me off from warning some of his more mystical friends and allies. Mister McCoy doesn't exactly have a home address or phone number. And the less said about the Wardens and their allies, the better. Let's just hope their animosity to Mister Dresden is adequate shielding. After all, dangling someone over a volcano and saying 'surrender or we kill him' doesn't work if the reply is 'let me set up my video camera first.'"         Celestia caught Charity's half smirk, she extended a wing and gathered the two women in, to guide them to the door. Leaving the Trickster, Kincaid, and the dying monster alone.         Charity predictably nearly tackled her husband. Luna was in the small kitchen looking for tea, a teapot and some cups.         "We're having a tea party," Luna said.         "I thought we were going to play checkers," Luna's fan said.         "I can do both," Luna said, "If there were any tea supplies here."         "Pizza, soda, and s few other things should be here in about half an hour. I didn't have time to stock the place, sorry," the Trickster said as he entered.         Kincaid sat down heavily on a sofa, glanced at Michael and shook his head. Michael nodded.         Whatever their plan was, it's been forestalled, Celestia thought, then caught the Trickster's far away look.         "Okay, time for a few explanations," he announced, "But first, big screen, or crystal ball?"         'Big screen', the children, save Ivy announced. The Trickster bowed and conjured a flat plate against the wall half the size of a bed. The kids all turned to watch, and even the adults turned to watch. The image had no sound. Celestia suspected that was intentional.         "Hey! That's our house!" the pink-haired girl piped up.         "And they're breaking in. Not a good way to start a Saturday," the Trickster said, "All in, and in three, two, one."         A golden glow seemed to emanate from everything in the house. The eight invaders all screamed in agony as the light persisted. Two, then only one, staggered for the door. The rest crawled for it. All of them were obviously screaming in pain from the light. Once they were outside all of them collapsed. The door closed behind them.         Most of the children applauded and whooped at the effect. The adults had a more somber take on the event. Michael and Charity had just had their home invaded. Ivy, Kincaid, and the pink-haired girl, Molly, had just realized what they were dealing with in the Trickster. They seemed quite concerned now.         Luna soothed Ivy. Celestia sat with the children and gestured for Molly to join her. The girl refused. So that's the one we're here for, Celestia realized, Imagine what these masters of power will feel when they learn this was all a demonstration for her behalf.         "Don't worry, they won't come back," the Trickster told Michael and Charity, "You have my word on that."         "Don't promise what you can't deliver," Michael warned.         "I can deliver that," the Trickster assured him, in a serious tone and mien that contained no hostility to the man or his family.         "They've got friends," Molly added, trying to shake the Trickster's confidence.         "Actually, no they don't, but there are 30 of them. And they have two other factions in play. One going after Marcone, and the other, well, let's just say that they are likewise being handled," the Trickster assured Michael and Charity, Molly wasn't buying it.         "How?" Celestia asked, "You didn't contact anyone else."         "Odd as it may seem," the Trickster said, "I do have friends. Some of them are well able to take care of little problems like the one we faced late last night. Good, bad men like that one." He gestured at Kincaid. The Trickster set his sword and scabbard inside the kitchen while he searched the cupboards for anything that would help the 'tea party'. Whatever he found seemed to go straight into the trash.         "I think I'm insulted," Kincaid replied.         "I'm very sorry you feel that way," the Trickster replied as he dumped a large, brown brick of something into the garbage.         "Gimme the phone, McCoy deserves you," Kincaid said, and the Trickster walked over and handed him the device from earlier.         Realizing tea wasn't in the offing, "Story!" one of the children shouted, "Tell us how you fought Discord!"         How I what? Celestia thought and looked at Luna, who also had no idea what they were saying.         "Why don't you tell us that story?" Celestia asked, and became aware that Ivy was staring at her very curiously.         The pair of them were bombarded with a history neither of them had ever heard of, gleaned from an entertainment for children. Kincaid would sometime grumpily add a correction, then glance about sheepishly. 'Was as if a child's fantasy, crafted by those who know nothing of children', Celestia thought, and glared accusingly at the Trickster, Why didn't he tell us?         Instead, she saw unfeigned confusion on his face. He shook his head, implying that all this was news to him as well. His facade of omniscience was just that a facade. This was not one of the things he'd studied. She weathered the storm of questions, by basically turning them back and asking what they thought of what they were asking about. 'Were you scared?' 'Would you be?'         The revelation of Nightmare Moon hit Luna particularly hard, and Ivy hugged her and told her it was all right, and it all worked out in the end. The girl seemed grateful she could offer Luna comfort at such a time.         The knock on the door brought everyone around. "Pizza," a female voice called from the doorway.         "Ah, the detective and her friends have arrived," the Trickster said, "Give them plenty of room to storm in."         "Coming!" he shouted in a sing-song tone.         The ambush should have been text book. The small female delivered the pizza right in the Trickster's face, forcing him back from the door. A dozen armed and armored officers rushed in, weapons drawn and searching. Michael had leapt from the couch and seized the sword from where the Trickster had left it in the kitchen. While Kincaid placed himself bodily in front of Ivy. Except the officers had their guns wrenched up so they were pointing at the ceiling, the Trickster got back on his feet and rather than succumb to the small woman's, presumably Detective Murphy's, martial arts hold, he let his arm rotate freely allowing him to escape the hold and thrust Murphy towards the couch between Molly and Charity. The guns collecting on the ceiling sealed the deal for the police.         Michael hadn't moved from the instant he'd drawn the sword and turned to join the fight. He wasn't nonplused that the fight had ended so swiftly, but was staring at the sword.         "Oh dear, you have had a hard life haven't you?" the sword said.         Now Michael was not alone staring in amazement at the sword.         The Trickster verified no one was going to shoot or chop anyone else, then he gestured and the pizzas, four other officers and the sodas and utensils floated into the building. He surveyed the assembly and frowned, then stuck his head out the door.         "You must be McCoy, if you wouldn't mind, you'll want to see this. And bring your friend," he told them, "Enter freely and unencumbered as long as your blessings are on all within." He stepped over the threshold, to disinclude himself from 'all within' and gestured for them to enter. The two, old men murmured something, and entered. A moment later the Trickster did as well, and closed the door behind him.         "Well, that was exhilarating, and very well done," the Trickster said, "Against someone who didn't train people to do that for a living themselves, it would have been perfect."         "I apologize for him, he does love his theatrics," the sword said, "My dear sir, stop being dashed and do something, you're frightening your children."         "I'm all right," Michael said listlessly as he stepped out of the kitchen and into the main room.         "Sir, the offer still stands. I can heal you of all the injuries you've suffered. Unless there's some scar or other that has personal or religious significance to you," the sword said.         "No, none of them are special," Michael said.         "That's how you healed my wings," Celestia realized, "That's why you laid the sword on my side!"         "Actually I was critiquing his work," the sword said, "He did the job entirely on his own. It was adequate."         "High praise, coming from you," the Trickster said, "For those of you without experience, the sword is alive, and speaking. I'm not a ventriloquist."         The older man with the darker skin approached. "So you are an expert in healing magics?"         "Quite, most of the healing magics currently known and used are either derivatives and refinements of my studies and techniques, or they are based on second or third order analysis of my works," the sword said, sounding very proud of himself.         "Except here, they may have developed some of the techniques on their own," the Trickster said, "Hence the curiosity at the opportunity to study from a master."         "Well, I do need a body to temporarily store some of the injuries. And I think letting him see it first hand will be better than observing the process on you."         "Storing the injuries?" the old man asked.         "Careful Injun Joe," McCoy warned. The Trickster sighed and shook his head at the old man leaning on the black walking stick.         "The problem with most people learning healing magic is they lack the empathy to truly connect with another to perform the repair of the damage. People are more than bags of hit points walking around," the sword explained, "So, how to solve the problem, even the most sociopathic creature can empathize with itself, so you transfer the injury and self-heal. Although if you're skilled enough, you keep the injury in potentia, and erase it, rather than inflict it on yourself. But I don't know if I can teach you that so quickly."         "I'd like to learn," the man, 'Injun Joe', said.         "Michael?" Molly asked. Her confused expression gave a glimpse of her inner turmoil.         The two, old men worry her, and now her father is being exposed to magic she doesn't understand, Celestia realized, and walked over to her.         "It'll be all right," she said to Molly, "I was healed, and it didn't hurt."         Molly wasn't mollified, but she accepted she had no say or hand in this.         The old man approached Michael and the sword, and the Trickster approached both men. He laid a hand on each, and the old man laid a hand on Michael to close the circle.         "Still have to back your teacher?" the sword teased.         "I might learn something," the Trickster replied, "I never pass up the chance to learn something."         The room fell silent as the old man twitched a little, and Michael stood tall. Celestia could barely see or feel the magic passing among them. Like filaments, she realized, This isn't about power, this is about precision and care. She looked closely and realized the intricacy of the weaves were beyond anything she'd seen ponies accomplish. She was supposed to be a prodigy, and this was vastly beyond her.         After a few moments, both men stepped away from Michael. The big man set his feet farther apart and raised the sword.         "You do good work," Michael said.         "Put in a good word with your boss. Maybe I'll get a student without the sense of humor this one has," the sword said as Michael almost reverently put the blade back in its sheathe. "I apologize, I really didn't understand."         The Trickster shrugged. "Obfuscation is my bread and butter, it's hardly your fault it worked when I didn't intend it to," the Trickster said and accepted the hand grip that Michael offered.         "That's all well and good," Detective Murphy said as she stood up from the couch, "But there's the little matter of kidnaping of Chicago Police officers."         "My apologies for the misunderstanding Detective, but any time you or the others wish to leave, you are all free to do so. If you believe your equipment and training is sufficient to deal with Nicodemus and several of his band, at a time and place of their choosing, then please, collect your guns and walk out that door," the Trickster said a hint sharply. He didn't glare at the detective, but the tone and stance still challenged her to do exactly that.         The sound of handcuffs closing broke the deadlock. Charity closed the other loop of the cuffs on her wrist, linking her with Detective Murphy. "Fine, now I'm kidnaping you," she told Murphy, "At the end of the day, I can probably manage a good insanity defense."         The detective stared at Charity in stunned silence. Several of the officers retrieved their guns from the ceiling, others went to help themselves to the pizza and sodas.         "Story!" Luna's admirer demanded, "Celestia and Luna made us tell them stories, I want to hear about this!" The boy made an all-encompassing gesture.         "Okay, everyone get some pizza and drinks and I'll tell you a story." The Trickster glanced at the two old men who were conferring about the healing magic. Their excitement stopped as they realized the Trickster was addressing them. "Since there are very serious laws about telling you the truth, I'll tell you about a family of snowbirds from Chicago."         The Trickster leaned against the wall near the entryway and gestured ,and a plate full of pizza and a bottle labelled 'Dr. Pepper' sailed through the air towards him. He got situated while everyone else got their first helping.         Celestia was dismayed at the sheer amount of meat on most of the pizzas, but was delighted to find one smothered in olives, peppers, onions, and cheese. She felt a bit guilty about taking the whole thing to share with Luna, but the meat-bearing pizzas were unavailable to her.         "Okay, snowbirds are people who have another home in more pleasant climates. They live there when it's too cold here, and live here when it's too hot there. This family had a home that was older than the fire, the big one everyone has heard about."         "Wait a second, 'the fire'," Detective Murphy interrupted, "The big one, the really big, really early one?"         The Trickster nodded. "The one that you could say started everything," the Trickster said, "Yes, their home was from before then. Now, the almanac predicted the worst winter in recorded memory. So the family packed up and decided to head down to Florida, and wait out the cold. Except Crazy Uncle Ethyl. You know about Crazy Uncle Ethyl?"         Most of the children shook their heads.         "Believe me, the police officers here know all about Crazy Uncle Ethyl," the Trickster assured them, "So Ethyl decided to stay, because the wildflower blooms were also supposed to be the best in recorded history, and Ethyl wasn't going to miss a moment of those. So all the bedding got moved to Ethyl's room and a nice warm cocoon got made. The rest of the family packed up everything they could and headed down to Florida."         He paused to take a drink and let some worried murmurs pass among the group.         "Didn't they get chased out by . . . "McCoy asked, "Federal agents?"         "Nope, they typically threw Revenuers in the mill pond," the Trickster said, "Once they left, the Revenuers started a story that they'd driven them out, but it was General Winter not their tactical acumen that caused the vacation."         That caused more furious whispering, this time including Ivy in the quiet speculation.         "Well, their phone call woke Ethyl out of a sound sleep, because someone kept calling their cell phones, since it wasn't them calling each other, Ethyl went to investigate. And in the kitchen, she found this trail of ants had collected some seeds from where they'd been spilled in the gardening supplies, and they were taking them outside to bury them in their nest. That explained how in the depths of that terrible winter, the best wild flower season was going to follow. But Ethyl also found out the ants were all over the kitchen phone, and somehow were able to trip the speed dial. That's how they were calling the family in Florida. She sprayed the phone, killing all of them and leaving a residual, and went back to bed. Only to be awakened by the phone again. The ants were back on the kitchen phone, and they'd used others of their own kind to basically sweep all the poison away. Now, Ethyl was in a quandary: use a poison they'd take back to their nest and kill them all, and by consequence lose the wild flowers, or, find some other way. So Ethyl watched, and realized some of the soldier ants were trying to keep ants from joining the ones attacking the phone. Ethyl sprayed the phone again, and watched the survivors try to drag off workers to clean it off again. Then Ethyl focused on the soldiers who were attacking the phone ants, and Ethyl realized that the ants going after the phone didn't really understand what they were doing. Ethyl suddenly realized that the rotten kid down the street was doing what he usually did, trying to ruin someone elses' fun."         "Spank him!" one of the kids insisted.         "Ethyl's whole family had made a promise not to hurt him, so Ethyl was stuck. He'd taught the ants to use the speed dial without them understanding what it was for. That's why the family was getting these calls they didn't understand. After all, what can an ant ask for that a person would understand? Then Ethyl got a bright idea. Ethyl collected some of the soldiers, and transformed them into spiders. Now spiders don't generally eat ants, but they frightened off a lot of the phone ants, making the soldier ants' job a lot easier. But one other thing, spiders can bite people, even kill them. So the spiders could help keep the ants away from the phone, and when they caught the rotten kid down the street teaching ants to do bad things, they could sting him to death. Ethyl would wake up occasionally, check on the ants, on the phone, and on the spiders, all the time, waiting for the wild flower bloom."         "That story makes no sense," the boy said.         "Oh, you want a good story," the Trickster said, "You should have said that." He ignored the groans of the kids.         Celestia noted the calculating, even terrified looks on the adults' faces as they pieced together what he'd told them. None were happy about what it said about their situation.         "Okay, a band of kids from another Earth found themselves on an alien world, full of magic to learn, fearsome enemies to fight, new friends to make, and a dark conspiracy that would eventually shake a galactic civilization," the Trickster said, and took a bite of pizza, "Being both curious and learned in various odd skills, yes, nerds to the very core, even the cool ones, they separated across the world to study what was to be learned, to teach what they knew, and to draw their plans against the first of their enemies, the Empire." ------------------------------         Most of the kids were nodding off as the tales of the friends unwound. The adventures and escapes weren't gone into in detail, but the gist was given. What struck Celestia was the idea that there were others like the Trickster, and that they actually trusted each other enough to elect one of their number to keep all of their schemes straight and also allow for the miraculous rescues that seemed to be the group's stock-in-trade. The one planner always made sure that there was a reserve that no one knew about, just in case things turned south.         A good thing to have, a friend watching your back, and knowing to call on other friends when you needed them, Celestia thought, Also a good way to make sure people can grow when they have a troubled patch, and help when the trouble is too much to handle.         The story despite the excitement, had the desired effect on most of the kids. Even Luna was nodding a bit. "I think some people are ready for bed," Celestia said.         Luna's angry denial was interrupted by a yawn, which set off a host of answering yawns in the rest of the group, adults and children both.         "Let's get you washed up and ready for bed," Charity said, "There are toothbrushes?"         "In the van, I'll get them," the Trickster said and glanced around, "Enough for everyone. The adults can 'rough it' and use the kitchen sink." The Trickster headed into the garage.         Celestia briefly considered following him, but stayed. McCoy and Kincaid kept eying each other and she wanted to be there to break up any fights. The Trickster returned with a shopping bag full of toiletries and handed them to Charity.         "Have Luna stay with them in the bathroom, our targets are arriving," the Trickster whispered to Celestia. "Tallyho," he said more loudly and nodded to the door.         Kincaid positioned himself near Ivy. McCoy and his friend braced themselves. Michael grabbed the sword and with Molly blocked the way into the back of the house while Luna chivied the children and Charity along. The police prepared their weapons and took what cover there was.         The Trickster cast a spell directed at all the people behind him, then stepped back into the area of effect. Celestia braced herself.         The door exploded off the hinges and two humanoid figures charged in, then stopped as they looked around in confusion. "They ain't here," one of them called outside as the other crouched over and began sniffing the ground. Celestia nearly shrieked at the foul aura of these travesties. Worse than the wrongness of the Trickster and the Eye Lord, this was malevolence, foul hatred of all that lived.         Three more figures walked in, the center one, an elegantly dressed man.         That one wears cruelty like his necktie, Celestia thought as despite her earlier feelings, prepared to strike this creature down.         The man suddenly jerked into the air by his tie, flew sideways and then the tie jerked him hard the other way. With a sickening crack, the man went limp.         What flew from the Trickster's fingers was like nothing Celestia had ever seen. If roaring fire could be as cold and gray as damp ashes, that would have been the trio of bolts that flew from his hands and struck three of the invaders. One to a customer. Celestia, and everyone else opened up on the fourth figure who was only beginning to straighten up from his crouch.         As suddenly as it started, it was over. The five corpses began aging, as if lost time were catching up to them. The man with the tie was the worst, not stopping with a skeleton, but mouldering away to ash in the space of moments. What caught Celestia's eye was the tarnished silver coin rolling out of the corpses, a coin to a corpse.         The Trickster bent down towards the elegant man's coin as it stopped at his feet.         "NO!"         Celestia wasn't sure if it was one voice or many, but McCoy and Kincaid had dropped their animosity and were charging the Trickster together. Too late, his hand closed on the coin and picked it up. The two men tried to knock the coin from the Trickster's hand without touching it themselves. The Trickster straightened up. The strength and weight of the two men seemed to matter not at all. Then he focused on the coin.         I am glad that isn't directed at us, she thought as his expression grew ugly, and he hated the coin in his hand, I thought my loathing of the aura of the Eye Lord was extreme. But it is nothing compared to this. She and everyone who could see his face drew back.         The heartrending scream of agony that came from the melee set Celestia's mane and fur on end. Wait, that wasn't the Trickster, that was the coin! she realized as she rushed forward as he staggered.         The blob of silver fell from his hand and plopped on the floor as Celestia caught the Trickster. Kincaid and McCoy stared in horror at the bit of silver smoldering on the floor.         "I am myself," the Trickster assured them.         "You used what Mald did to you, didn't you?" Celestia asked as she half-carried, half-dragged the man to a couch and sat him down.         "All the times she did it," the Trickster said as he bowed his head and shivered, "Like I said, they have a faster way to deliver information. Receiving it would be hard on a human. Transmitting just takes practice. Every time Mald did it, over and over and over again."         "That was cruel, even for you," Celestia said, and stared as the man shot to his feet. Seeing a harshly beautiful woman entering with several others made Celestia release the spell she'd prepared for this eventuality. She was overjoyed when she insistently felt the answering 'ping'. When the front of the house came away, revealing two dozen other, Celestia knew she'd made the right decision.