Dinky blinked, looking all around herself at the now brightly-lit area. It was high-noon now, the worst time of the day, a time when almost all ponies took care to remain indoors. Noon also meant that the Moonville ponies were in their monster forms. And, only two steps ago, it had been night.
It’s cheating, thought Dinky, though she was trying as hard as she could to avoid a repeat of her panic attack from the dead trees. It’s cheating, and not fair, but I’ll get through it. I can do this.
The sun almost seemed to waggle in the sky, as if mocking her.
“You’re mean,” whispered Dinky to the sun. “I bet Corona made you mean.”
But complaining wouldn’t help, so Dinky began running through town. She was small, she reasoned, and fast. If she hurried, she still had a good chance of getting through without getting caught. She just had to be really careful to get by all the obstacles... such as the two kelpie-ponies standing by the door to a nearby building.
Their coats were black, just like Ruby had said. Black and shiny, actually, like a mirror. As Dinky ducked behind a house to avoid their sight, she saw their coats ripple. It reminded the unicorn of water.
She was just close enough to hear them. “…Grey Hoof,” one was saying, “Is going to have our hides if we don’t find that foal.”
“She probably left.”
“You can’t leave. No pony can leave this place. She’s hiding here or in the woods nearby.”
“Then we’ll find her eventually. Grey Hoof’s overreacting.”
The first one hissed. Dinky, peaking around the house’s corner, saw that pony’s eyes. They were a bright, scary red. When she spoke, Dinky couldn’t help but wonder at all the sharp and pointy teeth. “He hates when his parties don’t go as planned. And now we’re way behind schedule on today’s. Let’s find that foal quick before he flips again.”
Dinky slipped around the house, then dashed as quickly as she could over to the next one. She wished, not for the first time, that Moonville had been a little smaller. But it was what it was, and her mother had taught her that it wasn’t productive (she used that word in particular) to complain about tasks being hard instead of just doing them. So she poked her head out, verified that the coast was clear, and then dodged down across the path and to the next house. Then it was a quick trip under the porch, a pause until a wandering kelpie-pony walked by, and a dash to the next building.
Dinky continued to dodge from house to house and made it all the way to the open center of town before having to make a new plan. Several kelpie-ponies were there, all looking nervous and glancing around. The town square held no indication that any kind of party had been held the previous night; a few ponies were getting tables into position as if to hold another party, but little other activity was taking place. Still, enough kelpies were there to make being sneaky impossible. Dinky figured that she’d have to go all the way around the square to avoid being seen. She sidled along the house she was hiding behind, glanced around the corner –
And almost bumped into a kelpie walking right at her.
Dinky jumped back to safety, thanking Luna and her moon and stars that the kelpie hadn’t been looking in her direction. She dashed to the other side of the house, but she could hear a kelpie coming from that side too.
In desperation, she looked up – and there was a window just above her! She pressed on it with her two fronthooves, and managed to slide it up a little bit. Just enough, she thought.
She climbed through and dropped into the house moments before the kelpies rounded the corner.
The house was big and very clean. Dinky supposed that, if the whole town ‘reset’ every day, that wouldn’t leave much time for dust to accumulate. She listened hard, but didn’t hear the sounds of any ponies in the house.
Dinky crept away from the window and through the room she was in – a kitchen, using a lot of devices she’d only seen in history class – and then into a hallway. Maybe, she reasoned, she could wait a little until the kelpies went away, or the time decided to be night again. Although, with her luck, the time would decide to stay noon until she got out of town.
Dinky shuddered, realizing that she’d been outside at high noon. It wasn’t the scariest thing she’d ever done; it wasn’t even the scariest thing of the last day or so, but it was still weird. Scootaloo had told her once that, at noon, Corona had been able to reach down with a sun ray and snatch up any ponies who were still outside. Miss Cherilee said that was just a story, but Dinky had always been a little unsure. If no ponies ever went outside at noon, how could they know it was false?
The hallway led to a living room with a few books and a bunch of toys. There was a sofa, a table, and a large easy chair. A kelpie was sitting in the easy chair, looking out the window and not saying anything.
Dinky froze and began to back up, but she’d been running a lot and was both tense and tired. She slipped, fell, and made a loud ‘thump’ as she connected with the ground.
The kelpie swiveled around.
Dinky could only stare.
They were scarier up close, she thought. The red eyes seemed to pierce into her and fix her in place; though she wanted to run, she couldn’t seem to make her legs move. When the kelpie opened its mouth, Dinky could count the rows of teeth. Her oversized ears twitched in Dinky’s direction, as if zeroing in on her.
“Please don’t eat me,” Dinky managed.
“You’re that foal,” the kelpie murmured. Then, louder, “I thought I told you to leave.”
Mitta!
Dinky grinned, relieved. Mitta, she was certain, wouldn’t hurt her. Ruby had ‘vouched’ for her, as Trixie would say. “I tried, but that path was a dead end. There were a bunch of trees blocking the way.”
Mitta said some words that Dinky’s mother would probably not want her to hear. “Guess I’m still useless,” said Mitta, not getting up from the chair. “Sorry, foal.”
“It’s okay,” Dinky hastened to add. “You tried.”
“Hah.” Mitta turned back around to look outside. “Hope you like the town, foal, because it looks like you’ll be here a while.”
“No. I’m going to get home and then I’m going to find help,” said Dinky. “That’s what I promised Ruby.”
“Ruby?!” Mitta jumped to her feet. “What? How did you know about her?” She raced over to Dinky, who couldn’t help but shrink back – even knowing that it was Mitta, the kelpie was terrifying up close. There was something off about the kelpie, somthing faintly disturbing, and it made her skin tingle and crawl. “Did you read about her? Did Grey Hoof mention her?”
“No, I saw her ghost,” said Dinky quickly. “She had a grey coat and orange hair, and magnifying glass on her flank. She told me all about you.”
“Her ghost? But… but I haven’t seen her since…” Mitta trailed off. “Well, I guess that makes sense. The stars know I can’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”
“No, she said that she can’t talk to any of the ponies in town. She wishes she could, though.” Dinky managed, somehow to smile, even though her mind kept reminding her that Mitta’s teeth could easily gobble up a filly in one bite. “She misses you, and she wanted you to know that she forgives—“
“LIES!” thundered Mitta, loud enough to send Dinky stumbling backwards a step. “Ridiculous! Ruby would never forgive me. Nor should she. None of us deserve it. I don’t know what you think you’re trying to do, foal, but it’s useless.”
“Really, she told me!”
“You must have imagined it. It’s okay. All the ponies in town but me went through that phase. Took a few years, for some of them. Wishing to be saved from this nightmare, to be made normal again.” She smiled grimly. “But I was the only one who knew, at first. That there wouldn’t be anyway out for us. That we would stay here until day and night themselves ended and the world decayed into nothing.”
“But why would you want that?” Mitta seemed almost... happy about the situation. Or at least, not unhappy.
“Want that?” Mitta paused. “I always taught Ruby that we should try to make the world more just. That we should live honestly and fairly, and by the same rules we apply to others. Well… this is our just reward.”
Dinky tried one more time. “But Ruby was the one you hurt, and—“
“You should worry about yourself before you worry about my daughter,” snapped Mitta. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’re in? Grey Hoof will kill you, or turn you into one of us.”
The foal didn’t even know how to respond to that. Eventually, she whispered, “Can you help me escape? If – if I can get out, I promise I’ll bring help—“
“Don’t bother. None of us can leave. All you’d accomplish is get your friends trapped here too.”
“I promised Ruby.” Dinky managed to lock eyes with Mitta, even though they were still red and really scary. “And Momma taught me that I should try to keep my promises.”
Mitta was silent for a very long moment. Finally, just when Dinky was about ready to get up and try to see if she could find tools or a disguise or something in the house, Mitta laughed softly. “… wow. Haven’t heard something like that in hundreds of years…”
She was silent for another few moments.
“Alright, foal. You win. I’ll help you however I can. But I can’t promise anything, foal. None of the ponies in town like me, because I’m the only one who won’t go along with their charade. I won’t be able to talk them into letting you go.”
“Charade?” Dinky frowned, not quite sure of the word.
“Act. That everything’s okay. That this curse is really some blessing of eternal youth. That none of us would ever want to leave town anyway, or age, or die. That, if we’re to live the same day forever, we should just do the same thing forever, because that’s the way we can tell ourselves that we did the right thing the first time.” Her voice grew bitter. “That we’re not the evilest ponies to walk Equestria.”
“But that’s not—“
A loud knock sounded from the door.
“Mitta?” It was a low, rough voice. “We heard you yell. Everything okay?”
“It’s fine!” called Mitta. “Just fine!”
“Grey Hoof wants to see you. As soon as possible.”
“Tell him to go jump in the town pond.”
“He’s liable to drag you with him – he thinks you helped that foal escape. You’d better talk to him soon, Mitta.”
Mitta turned back to Dinky. “They’ll be watching the house,” she whispered, matter of factly.
Dinky shivered.
“So we’ll have to run. Get on my back.”
Dinky stared, but she forced herself to approach. It didn’t matter what a pony looked like, she told herself. After all, some ponies didn’t like her mother because of her eyes, and that wasn’t right. If Mitta had red eyes and a lot of pointy teeth, that didn’t matter, and…
Dinky touched her coat and immediately yanked her hoof away. It felt like a thick gel or glue, like that batch of ice cream that Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had produced. “Your coat…”
“Just get on, foal! We don’t have time. They’ll be back to search my house any minute.”
Mitta knelt, and Dinky clambered on. She wrapped her legs tightly and felt them sink into Mitta’s coat a bit. “I’m on.”
Mitta nodded, and suddenly the coat seemed to freeze into place. Dinky squeaked as she found that she couldn’t move any part of her body that was touching Mitta.
“Now they won’t be able to knock you off. Nothing can break free of a kelpie,” said Mitta. “So that gives us maybe one chance in four, foal.”
Dinky was riding a monster and heading out into a whole town of monsters. She was scared. But there was still one thing she wanted to say.
“Um, Miss Mitta?”
“What?”
“My name is Dinky Doo,” she repeated.
“Fine. One chance in four, Dinky. Ready?”
Dinky nodded, then realized that Mitta couldn’t see that from her position. “Yes. I'm ready--”
And they ran.
Dinky watched, and had to restrain herself from cheering, as they zipped by the other kelpies. Most could only stare of jump out of the way, and Mitta didn’t even need to do anything to get around them. One reached out to grab at them, but Mitta dodged to the right and they got by him too.
They weaved through the houses and trees, and Mitta even jumped over a table that a pony had set up in the yard. And then they were through the last set of buildings and sprinting for the town entrance.
But there was a large pony there, directing others to set up tables and booths. It looked just like all the others – black coat, red eyes – but was taller, and standing like it was used to being obeyed. The other ponies all listened to him and were carrying out his orders. Dinky’s eyes widened; she knew the pony that was that tall, with that stance and that air of authority. Grey Hoof was here.
He looked up, saw Dinky and Mitta, and began barking orders to the kelpie-ponies around him. Two grabbed a tablecloth in their mouths and ran to block off the gate. Three others began charging at Mitta. Grey Hoof stood in the center of it all, smiling brightly. There were a lot of teeth in the smile.
Mitta leapt as high as she could, managing to clear the first kelpie that charged at her. She had to dodge to the side to get around the second, leaning so far over that Dinky would have fallen off had she not been stuck fast. Dinky screamed as one of the kelpies struck at, and almost hit, her horn. But then they were past the second, and the third, and then they were going for the exit.
Mitta roared something as she swept by Grey Hoof and towards the two ponies holding the tablecloth. Dinky shut her eyes. They were going to break through, and then they’d be out of the town and safe and…
They didn’t break through.
Dinky screamed as Mitta slammed to a stop, held in check by the two ponies with the tablecloth. Then Mitta’s coat shifted and Dinky could move again. “Get away! Go!” screamed Mitta.
Dinky opened her eyes and tried to jump over Mitta’s head and out of town, but one of the kelpies raised a hoof and deflected her. She fell to the ground, and before she knew it, three more kelpies had swept in behind her.
Grey Hoof grinned. “You can stop now, Mitta. It’s all over.”
Dinky looked around – at the three kelpies behind her, at Grey Hoof, and at the other kelpies, more and more approaching from the town, that were gathering in front of her – and suddenly she felt very small and weak.