That night, I insisted on eating at home. Unsurprisingly, Sunset Shimmer acted as if she thought it a good idea, that it would save money. Over a bowl of primavera fried hay that I'd tossed together with carrots and squash I'd scrounged up at the back of the pantry, she finally brought it up.
Her red wine unsampled, her hair limply laying across her face as if she no longer cared about her looks, not even making eye contact, she asked, "Remember the night you first slept over here?"
I had expected this, but it saddened me anyway. The mouthful I chewed became like sawdust, but I decided to play the game. "Uh, huh."
Quiet, very quiet: "You brought nettle-ewe..."
I'd brought it under Running Mead's control. Despite her equivocation at the time, I felt certain it had been my chummy presentation that had introduced it to her. Having destroyed it and having warned her hadn't dissuaded her from trying it. Thus had Running Mead lost the battle and won the war. I had thought he had no influence outside the Lower, but now he'd dried up Sunset Shimmer's supply. He wanted a tamed princess' pet and her trainer—the two of us.
I put down the fork. "I warned you."
"Don't tell me you didn't know."
"I knew."
Her eyes came up, and I could see the red rimming them. "Then you can get me some?"
"You need to go to your father and get help—"
She slammed her front hooves on the granite top, rattling the plates and silver. "You don't know my father! He was against me living here alone and..."
I had read about addiction in Understanding Pony Behavior. Addict's logic. It was the addiction speaking. I endured the rage, the tears, and the begging as a sailor might bad weather at sea—no choice but to survive it.
She wouldn't even let me hold her that night to ease her tremors. In essence, she'd sunk so low she wouldn't let me lean to support her. In the end, I knew what I had to do and giving in, even if I honestly could, wasn't it.
The next afternoon at lunch, I left school and walked through the fashion district toward Ponyville Way, ensuring I was as visible as possible and obviously alone. If I was being watched by the constabulary, I saw no evidence. I hoped that this meant Fellows and I had a deal.
I got all the way to the very busy intersection of Alicorn Way and Ponyville Way before a mare trotted up with a green mane styled in a casual flip, wearing a long dress and a smart ruddy bowler hat. She had indigo eyes, and on a closer look, no horn. Wearing a dress to conceal her wings must have hurt. The green dye would have hurt her pride.
I told Streak, "Tell Running Mead he's won."
"I'm sorry."
We both sighed, watching trucks and taxis go by, not budging an inch as we forced hoof traffic to walk around us. I said, "I know you are."
"The boss is very good at finding ways to control a pony."
I looked at the wannabe furniture moving magnate. "Try to believe me when I say he doesn't always get it right. We've got to hope. And the other day, I had to protect myself, and I'm sorry for what happened and for what you saw."
She dismissed it with a snort.
"Now, this is very important. Tell Running Mead I'm going to bring him Sunset Shimmer." I hesitated about the next part because it was intended to infuriate him. I took a deep breath and added, "In exchange for my freedom."
"We're his possessions."
I was counting on that. I needed him to do his worst to me as his victim. I was no innocent, and if he acted and the constabulary saw it, and I survived, I would finally make the world a better place for myself and everypony else.
"Tell him I'll only give her to him personally or no deal. In person. Tailor can guide us. And tell him I have no scruples about protecting myself. Remind him what you saw in Rye Bald's flat." Again, calculated to incite anger.
She nodded wordlessly, possibly sadly and suddenly sick to her stomach as she ambled away.
I endured one more night of moaning and moping, and all sort of piss and vinegar. I wanted Sunset Shimmer desperate enough to do anything I asked, and I wanted Fellows ready. I did hope that he was as professional as he seemed.
Sunset Shimmer didn't go to school the next day. When I returned to the ivory tower, I found her in the vestibule, draped over a gilt blue-velvet fainting couch she'd dragged over, waiting, as I'd read dogs were wont to do. Reddened green eyes followed me as I hung my saddlebags on the umbrella tree, then knelt facing her.
I said, "I've seen roadkill that looks better than you."
"I'll take that as a compliment. I feel far worse, and you know why."
It was time to crack. I managed a sob and lay against the cushion, pressing my cheek against her ribs, laying my horn across her stomach. I could hear her heart beating, but at least she couldn't see my eyes as I lied. "I can't take this any more. This is tearing me apart." Okay, it wasn't entirely a lie.
After a moment, I felt her stroking my mane. Her numbers moved sluggishly. She had the concentration to levitate hair, but probably not much more. "You can help me."
"I want to, and I know what you're asking for. I wanted to be the mare you thought I was, but I guess that was a dream anyway. Couldn't you consider getting real help? Do you really want me to introduce you to my world?"
Her heart beat faster. "No pony is perfect, and yes, I gather it's hard for you, but I promise, this time I'll be careful of what I take and to taper off. I've read what to do. Just help me this once…"
In the dusk, after I had fixed her hair, cleaned her up, and found eyedrops to clear her eyes, we walked through the bailey gate to the castle, nodding at the guards who nodded in return. Minutes later, I led her on to the school quad, where she said, "Deep Thinker is no longer selling. I haven't been able to find her in weeks."
Few ponies remained. I could see lights in the magic lab downstairs. A pair of roan ponies, the "conjuring twins" everypony called them, stood on the sidewalk awaiting a ride. I sat beside a tree, out of view of the street. The grass felt cool and the scent of the pepper tree spiced the air. I asked, "You haven't got a clue, have you?"
"About what?"
I took out a compact I had bought this morning, along with a makeup brush, newly cut stencils, and a pump hairspray bottle. I checked that the black, brown, and white powder pots were in proper order, wincing at the heavy gardenia scent of the cheap stuff. Leaving Zecora's, I had set Grimoire's cape on fire, melted my supplies, and thrown the special horseshoes deep into the forest. Even that hadn't made the nightmare over.
No wishes came true unless you acted to ensure they did. I forced down the resentment of what I had to do.
"Welcome to my world," I said.