“Huh.” Rainbow Dash leaned against the Orithyia’s railing to look over the ship’s edge. “You don’t see that every day.”
“I should hope not. They’re lucky nopony was killed,” Nutmeg called from the ship’s wheel. His ice climbing vest was laden with metal hooks and pitons and rang like a wind chime whenever he moved.
“Did they fire the weather team captain?”
“I think so. At least, the pony I spoke with seemed like she was pretty new at the job. Probably his replacement.” He gave the wheel a spin, and the Orithyia banked gently. “Hang on, I’m taking us over the city.”
Typhoon, the largest pegasus city on Equestria’s west coast, spread out beneath them like a starfish. The center of the city was empty, a vast round oculus that stared down at the seacoast below. Along the rim, countless buildings rose and fell in equal measure, reaching for the sky or thrusting toward the ground according to the whims of their designers. Huge cloudscape arms, bearing whole neighborhoods upon their backs, extended from the center in a loose spiral, curling as the city spun around its axis in imitation of its namesake.
It was a neat city, by any account. Unique. But Rainbow Dash had been to Typhoon before and done the tourist thing, flying laps around the hollow eye in the city’s center, dangling fishing lines from the lower towers to catch sea bass and then trying to eat one raw on a dare from her friends. She only got a single bite into the cold, slimy flesh before spitting it out and tossing the carcass back into the foamy waves below.
Typhoon was pretty cool, in other words, but it wasn’t what held her attention. Her gaze was fixed on the vast white halo circling the city. It was misty around the edges, like fog, but toward the center was so thick she couldn’t see through it to the ground below.
A few days back, their contact told them, a large flying iceberg drifted near Typhoon and got caught in the cyclonic winds that circled the city. Rather than do the sensible thing and summon the Orithyia, or simply move the city to a warmer climate and let the berg melt, Typhoon’s weather manager decided to try something new, daring, and (in Rainbow Dash’s opinion) awesome: they drilled a thousand-foot well into the center of the iceberg, packed it with over four tons of dynamite, and sold tickets for a raffle to be the pony who got to push the plunger. Tens of thousands of bits were raised for the local orphanage.
The actual demolition was not so successful.
Rather than vaporize the iceberg, as they had planned, the explosion converted it from a single piece of ice weighing almost a million tons into a nigh-infinite number of smaller pieces ranging in size from an ice cube to a grand piano. These settled into orbit around Typhoon and slowly dispersed until they formed a uniform disc that, from a distance, looked like a very thin, flat cloud that formed a white bulls-eye around the city. A few larger pieces, including one nearly a quarter the size of the original berg, carved circular channels out of the disc as they tumbled around the city.
The overall impression was of a ringed gas giant, like in the astronomy lessons Dash had grudgingly listened to as a foal. She marveled, for a moment, that a small piece of that class had finally, after years of waiting, become relevant to her adult life.
“So, what do they want us to do?” she asked. They were close enough now that she could make out individual bits of ice in the cloud, zipping by as they circled the city.
“Get rid of it, somehow.” Nutmeg locked the Orithyia’s wheel in place and spun the ship into the wind. The engines cycled down to a quiet hum, barely audible above the wind, and producing just enough power to hold the ship in place.
“Okay.” She stared down at the whirling hailstorm for a bit longer. “Any ideas?”
“Honestly? No. I’ve never dealt with something like this before.”
“Hm.” She chewed on her lip and sat on the deck. The planks were warm, thanks to the enchantments set into the wood. Frost was already building on the Orithyia’s envelope as hot, wet air rose from the sea below the city and chilled as it passed through the remains of the iceberg. Ice would start building on the lines if they stayed too long.
There was plenty of moisture. She could use that. The inklings of an idea began to form in her brain.
“How much are we getting paid for this?” she asked.
“Twice our normal rate, plus expenses. They were pretty desperate.”
“Alright.” She let out a long breath. “Get your snivel gear on. This is gonna suck.”
* * *
Step One was finding enough warm, moist air to create a cloud. As they were over the ocean, this was fairly easy.
Rainbow Dash jumped from the Orithyia and fell through the center of the city, pulling up just above the churning waves. A steady wind blew toward the shoreline, tossing foam into the air. It soaked through her coat in an instant, but her oiled feathers rebuffed the water and cut easily through the spray. She meandered across the surface, dancing around the waves as if they were hills and valleys, getting a feel for the air.
It was thick as cotton. She drank the air as she breathed it. The city, the sky, the Orithyia were all lost in the gray haze high above. The sun was the only bright spot in the heavens, surrounded by a wide halo as its light reflected off the ice crystals in the rings surrounding the city.
She felt an unexpected eddy, and glanced over to see a seagull riding in her wake. Its slender, black-banded wings flexed, and it dove into the waves below. A moment later it emerged with something silver struggling in its beak.
Weather magic wasn’t like unicorn magic – it wasn’t flashy or glowy or loud or all the other things Rainbow Dash associated with Twilight Sparkle’s spells. Weather magic was instinctive, thoughtless. It was an exercise of her will upon the world.
She could feel the water in the air. With her eyes closed, she could see its energy whirling around her, spiraling up from the warm ocean into the cool sky. She bent her wings to bank in a low, wide circle, her feathers just inches from the ocean’s churn, and began to gather the cloud.
It started as a misty blur at the center of her gyre. As she circled it grew larger, denser, darker. She rose, and it rose with her. And still it grew. A thin funnel connected it to the ocean below, an umbilical cord full of water and heat.
By the time she reached the level of the city, her cloud was a hundred yards across and dark as charcoal. It rumbled as it roiled, shaking her chest with hidden thunder.
She brought it above the city, level with the Orithyia. The colder air squeezed it, leeching its energy, and now she struggled to keep it from collapsing. It wanted to rain. It wanted to explode.
Finally, she was high enough. The cloud cast a shadow on the icy disk below. Satisfied, she let her will relax, and like the world’s largest sponge her cloud began to weep. Rain fell onto the countless pieces of ice and began to freeze solid.
She watched for a while, making sure the cloud was stable and wouldn’t go drifting off. Satisfied that it had enough water to last for a few hours, she dove back down to the Orithyia.
* * *
Nutmeg dangled like a spider beneath the Orithyia. A fifty-yard line tethered him to the airship, and a dozen iron grappling hooks hung from his legs, ready to snag larger bits of ice as they drifted near. The battered helmet on his head had already saved him from one apple-sized chunk of ice.
“Ready when you are, Miss Dash,” he called. His breath fogged in the freezing air. “Do be careful.”
“Careful is my middle name!” She had to shout to be heard over the roaring wind and the constant, low grumble of the icy rings just beneath them. “Wait, no. Danger! Danger is my middle name!”
Rainbow Dash’s cloud had been raining for almost an hour, and the ice beneath it was no longer cloudy and white. It was clear, now, and shone like diamonds in the sun. The tiny pieces, rather than bouncing off each other and breaking into ever-smaller shards, froze together. Slowly, slowly, the cold rain undid what the foolish pegasi of Typhoon had done in less than a second. The iceberg was rebuilding itself.
Left alone, the icy disc might have coalesced into a few hundred rocky balls, orbiting the city like a cloud of comets. And, in time, those bergs might eventually crash together, reforming the mountain they had once been. But that would take time – years – and more rain than Dash could imagine.
And so they helped it along.
Rainbow Dash landed on a bergy bit the size of a grand piano. Its surface was slick, half-frozen, and an icy rime formed on her hooves. She clung to the side, feeling the ice seep into her coat, binding her like a lover. She growled and tore herself free, and then drove an iron anchor into the ice with a single, sharp blow of her hoof.
“Got it!” she shouted. Her body shook with cold, lending a tremor to her voice. “G-go!”
The line tightened and jerked as Nutmeg tugged the berg slowed to a stop. Smaller bits of ice, still speeding through the air, shattered against its side, and she huddled in its lee until an opening appeared. She darted away, dodging icy hunks the size of pumpkins and ignoring the smaller ones that bounced off her coat or broke against her hooves.
A hundred yards away, she saw her next prey – a berg the size of a house, spinning lazily through the storm. She pushed through the hail toward it. A crust of pink ice, tinted with her blood, collected on her legs as she shielded her face.
She crashed into the berg’s side and held tight, panting for breath. It leeched the heat from her belly. Cold grew in her chest like cancer. The ice crept around her hooves, and she knew if she waited, it would grow and grow and grow, engulfing her, swallowing her. And in a thousand years, when the berg finally melted, her corpse would tumble to the earth.
So, just for a moment, she rested. The creeping ice sent its tendrils into her coat. How easy it would be, the ice whispered, to just rest. I will take care of everything.
She snorted and pulled away. Bits of her coat tore, sticking to the ice, and spots of blood dotted her legs. With an angry grunt she drove another anchor into the berg and jumped away, her wings snapping out to catch the air.
* * *
It took four days to capture all the ice.
The smaller pieces, the ones tinier than a cherry, melted on their own in the rain. Chunks larger than a pony were slow enough for Rainbow to push into other chunks, and the massive pieces they snagged with anchors and held together beneath the Orithyia. Eventually, their make-shift iceberg grew large enough to block the swirling winds around Typhoon, and most of the remaining bits drifted close enough for the iceberg’s own gravity to draw them in.
The resulting iceberg was not pretty. Most icebergs weren’t, Rainbow Dash felt, but even she had to acknowledge that they possessed a sense of massive grandeur, an immense, stately bearing that overwhelmed her little pegasus brain. They were like the moon.
Their iceberg was not like the moon. It was more like somepony had taken a hoofful of icecubes and squeezed them together until they fused into a bumpy, knobby mess.
Tomorrow, they would snag the ugly mess with ropes and anchors, and start the slow process of dragging it out to sea.
But tonight they rested. The good pegasi of Typhoon gave them a free suite in the city’s most expensive hotel, complimentary room service, and all the hot water they could ask for.
The bathroom tub was large enough for a half-dozen ponies, but Rainbow lounged in it alone. The water scalded her at first, though she knew it was no more than lukewarm. In time, though, the last of the ice melted from her coat and feathers, and she let the warmth soak into her bones.
She was a mess. Cuts and scrapes left by speeding bits of ice criss-crossed her legs. Bruises covered her ribs and flanks. The helmet saved her skull a dozen times, but a particularly sharp piece of ice had split her left ear almost in half. It took a dozen stitches to close wound, and it ached in time with her pulse. Bits of dried blood drifted away from her mane when she dunked her head beneath the water.
Worst of all, at least four primaries were broken. She’d be flying like a goose for weeks until they regrew. The thought left her grumbling even as she relaxed.
Still, pretty awesome. A small smile crept onto her lips.
* * *
Nutmeg was sitting on the bed when Rainbow emerged from the bath. He had the ship’s log open on the covers before him and an ink-stained quill in his mouth. He made a few final marks, and then closed it and set it aside.
“Feel better?” he asked.
“Yeah, loads.” Rainbow rubbed her coat and mane with the towel one final time, then crawled up beside him. “I never want to be that cold again.”
“Hazard of the business, I’m afraid. Though, that is the worst I’ve had to deal with.”
He looked like it, too, she noted. Bruises covered Nutmeg’s legs, and patches of his coat were simply missing where too much ice had built up.
“Sucks,” she mumbled. She sat beside him and began preening her left wing. Dozens of fluffy covert feathers fell like blue snow onto the covers.
“I know, but on the other hoof, I’ve never seen this many bits in one place. We can get the engines refurbished with plenty left over. Here, let me help.”
His hoof snagged her right wing, and she froze for a moment at the sudden touch, but then his teeth started nipping her disordered feathers back into position. It was soothing, calming, like letting a friend brush her mane, not that she ever let her friends brush her mane because that was stupid. But all pegasi had fond memories of their parents preening their wings, and adult pegasi were always happy to lend a hoof (or teeth) to the aid of a friend, and in this Rainbow Dash was no different.
Soon enough her wings were back in flying shape, and she gave them a stretch and a final shake to settle the feathers into place. This is how Rarity must feel after a visit to the spa.
“Feel better?” Nutmeg asked. He spat out a bit of blue fluff.
“Yeah. Yeah, I do.” She crawled over to him and snagged his left wing. “Okay, your turn.”
He flinched – so quickly she wouldn’t have noticed if they weren’t inches away. His body tensed, but after a moment he relaxed. “Careful with your teeth. You might chip them.”
She paused at that, already lip-deep in brown fluff. Curious, she nosed a bit further, and froze when her snout touched something hard and cold.
“What the…” She pulled his wing further out from his body, then ducked her head around to peer at its underside. A metal brace, like a ship’s spar, ran from a leather strap wrapped tight around the base of the limb all the way to the tip. A series of springs connected the metal rods together, and when she relaxed her grip the springs contracted, drawing his wing back into a resting position against his side.
But the limb itself was what held her attention. It was little more than skin and bone. Tendons and ligaments stood out like earthworms in relief. Whatever muscle had once existed had long since withered away.
Nutmeg cleared his throat. After a moment’s silence, he ducked his head and began preening his wing himself.
“Er, sorry,” Rainbow said. A hot flush filled her face, and for a moment the room seemed to float far away. She shook her head and leaned forward again, nipping at his feathers and sorting them back into place. She ignored the cold metal and hollow bones that brushed against her muzzle.
“It’s fine,” he said. His voice was muffled through the feathers. “Spotted fever, when I was a foal. The doctors said I was lucky to survive. They had to fly a unicorn up to the hospital for the treatment.”
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“Don’t be. I was too young to fly, anyway.”
“Yeah, still.” She managed to repress a shudder through sheer force of will. Spotted fever, and the crippling atrophy of flight muscles it caused, was a nightmare for pegasi. Stories about it extended as far back as their written history.
The rest of their night passed in silence. The next morning, they left Typhoon for warmer climes.