• Published 12th Oct 2014
  • 3,852 Views, 518 Comments

DayBreak - MyHobby



After an attempt is made on Celestia's life, Twilight Sparkle must assemble a team to track down the assassin and bring her to justice. Danger awaits as they delve into the origins of both the attacker and alicorns.

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Scarred

“Time of death: Approximately eight-thirty.”

The first-responder covered Snipe Hunt’s head with the blanket. The fallen guard was lifted into the back of an ambulance and carted away. Care Carrot watched it go, biting down on her lip. She turned to Skyhook and placed a hoof on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

“Me, too.” The bat pony guard turned his face away from the wagon and toward the construction site. He squinted in the foggy light of the rising sun. “We always… we always worked together. I wish I’d been here.”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze. She flagged down a passing corporal. “What did you guys find?”

The soldier saluted. “Not much, ma’am. A few blood samples that forensics confirm as belonging to Princess Sparkle, Chief Velvet, and an unidentified third pony. We also have the attacker’s wingblades. Six embedded in the carriage and twenty-five scattered across the general area. Some are undamaged, but nine of them are crumpled like tin foil.”

“That’ll be Twilight’s handiwork, then.” Care scuffed a hoof in the sand. “Any clues where the assassin went?”

Skyhook grunted. “A furrow through the sand, leading to the exit. It looks like she dragged herself away. The sand trail ends at the end of the street.”

“Slippery little—” Care cut herself off with a snort. “Anything else to report, Corporal?”

“No, ma’am.”

“As you were.” Care Carrot ran a hoof through her green mane and marched away. She exited the construction site and leaned against the fence. She rubbed a hoof over her face. “Always two steps behind.”

“An unfortunate circumstance, Captain.”

Care jumped back. Wind blew in her face as giant wings carried Andean Ursagryph and two of his Blitzwings down. He raised his head to look over the border of the site. “I would appreciate it if you allowed my griffons to scour the area for evidence. I feel that my assistance in this matter would be prudent.”

“Sorry, your Grace, but this is an internal pony affair.” Care shook her head. “I can’t let you go in there.”

“Internal?” Andean snapped his beak shut. “Captain, this is no more an internal affair than if the world was splitting in half right through Equestria. You lost that claim when the person who controls the sun fell to a spearpoint.”

“I’ll admit you have a point, but I can’t let you in there.” Care stood at attention. “Princess Luna’s orders.”

“Princess Luna.” Andean gave her a scowling smile. “Princess Luna, indeed. Perhaps we need to have another heart-to-heart.”

“Don’t let me keep you,” Care sighed. She bowed before setting off at a trot for the hospital.

Andean narrowed his gaze before turning away. He sucked in a small breath when his eagle-keen eyes caught the glint of metal on the far side of the street. He lumbered to it and grasped it between his talons.

It was one of the wingblades. He ground his beak as he turned it around, examining it from every angle. The blade had dulled when it impacted the building, but it was still razor-sharp. The comb at the end would fit neatly onto any feather he wished. It did not dent until he used all his might to pierce it. He held it into the light of a streetlamp and watched his reflection change. The surface of the blade was covered with river-like veins, all drawing towards the tip.

His eyes widened. “Grenadier Lanner, give me your volleygun.”

The Blitzwing extended his modified spear. Andean took it in his strong talon and examined the bayonet on the end. It, too, had veins running down the side.

“Wootz.” Andean returned the volleygun. “Wootz! Kevatch!

“Is something wrong, your Grace?” the grenadier asked.

“Take this back to the Thunderhead and give it a full analysis,” Andean murmured. “Whoever this assassin is, she’s using griffon alloys.”

***

Princess Twilight Sparkle lay silent on the hospital bed, a tube shoved down her throat and a bag of ambrosia flowing into her bloodstream. Her pulse was steady, but her brainwaves were erratic.

“She went a long time without oxygen to the brain,” Doctor Fine said. “We won’t know if she suffered permanent damage until we can set her up for a Magical Resonance Imaging test.”

“Thank you for your help, Doctor,” Twilight Velvet said with a hoarse voice.

Hefty Fine nodded. He looked at the other ponies in the room. “I’ll leave you alone for a few minutes.”

Applejack, Rarity, Daring, Night Light, and Velvet sat beside the bed. All eyes were on their princess, daughter, and friend.

The skin around Twilight’s eyes tightened as she whined. One wing twitched as she dreamed.

“I’m gonna track down the spawn of a witch who did this,” Daring Do said. “You have my word, Twilight.”

Twilight Velvet shut her eyes tight and leaned on her husband.

The door opened, causing everypony to jump. Princess Luna walked in. The breath caught in her throat. She fought to speak. “R-Rarity, Applejack… You should go to Ponyville. It isn’t safe here. And you, Chief Velvet, Night Light, should go with them.”

Night Light looked up. “We aren’t leaving our daughter—”

“We are moving Celestia and Twilight both to a safe haven, hidden away where none but a few know.” Luna kept her face stony. “No more risks, no more leaks. We are keeping this tight to the chest. We were far too loose as to news of your travels.”

Velvet ground her teeth. “There was no way to know she’d… go after…”

“No. No there wasn’t.” Luna sighed. “Still, the fewer ponies who know, the less chance this mole will find more information to leak. I’m so sorry.”

“Ah think we deserve to know,” Applejack said. “You know we ain’t gonna blab none.”

“I said we are keeping this tight to the chest.” Luna frowned down at the mayor, her lips twitching. “No margin for error, Applejack.”

“If not me, then at least her folks.” Applejack’s shoulders drooped alongside her ears. “Don’t yah at least owe them that?”

Luna’s wall broke. Her face softened for a brief, quiet moment. “Of course I do. Of course.” Her eyes ran over the various instruments keeping Twilight alive. “Will the rest of you leave the room, please?”

Daring gave Velvet one last hug before following the other two out the door. Velvet wiped her eyes and settled herself into a more comfortable position on the floor. “Where?”

“The Crystal Empire,” Luna said. “It is far from Equestria, and protected by an incredibly ancient magic. As long as the crystal heart beats strong, nothing can penetrate its borders. A breezie doctor named Summerwind has agreed to take over from Doctor Fine. He’s has experience with the intricacies of ambrosia.”

Night Light gazed at his daughter. “How are you planning on transporting them?”

“Airship, flanked by Weather Ponies. A train would be too rough, as would a carriage, but a journey through the sky with perfect weather would be the fastest, safest way to go.”

Twilight Velvet shook her head. “Pursued by a pony you’ve called ‘Hurricane’? Princess, all due respect, but that sounds insane.”

“That I will admit,” Luna said. “But it is not going to be alone. There will be two—”

She was interrupted by Applejack sticking her head through the doorway. “Beg pardon, Majesty, but we need yer help out here.”

Luna shut her eyes hard. She growled before grasping the door with a spell. “Rest assured, Twilight Velvet, Night Light, that I am done taking risks with my friends’ lives. If this Hurricane wants my sister and Twilight, she’ll have to scour the world first.”

Luna strutted to the hospital wing’s front desk, where Rarity and Applejack were waiting. Daring Do was long gone.

The princess scowled at the mare behind the counter. “What requires my attention so?”

Flower Wishes ducked behind a notepad. “We’ve tried to get him to leave, but he won’t.”

Luna took a steadying breath. “Get who to leave?”

A clatter rolled down the hallway. A unicorn stallion charged past orderlies, a frazzle-maned unicorn mare in his wake. “Where is she?” he said. “I demand to see her at once!”

Rarity gently brought a hoof to her temple and rubbed. “Who might you think?”

Prince Blueblood slapped a hoof onto the counter. His eyes were red to go with his sunken cheeks. “What room? Tell me what room!”

“Blueblood, you drunken oaf!” Fleur De Lis said through a thicker Fancy accent than usual. “She es resting! Leave dese ponies be!”

Rarity slid her hooves around Fleur’s shoulders. “Best to leave it to Luna, I’m afraid.”

“Get it through that thick skull, yer Highness,” Applejack said. She prodded Blueblood’s chest. “Y’ can’t see Celestia. None o’ us can. It ain’t healthy nor safe!”

“Hooves off, commoner!” Blueblood snatched the notepad from Flower Wishes’ grasp. He took off down the hallway with pages flapping loose in his wake.

“Blueblood!” Luna chased after him, her eyes flashing with anger. “Blueblood, you get back here right this minute! Don’t you dare—!”

“Aha!” Blueblood skidded to a halt before one door. He dropped the pad and swung the door opened. “Aunt Celestia, I came to… to…”

He stared at the life support systems. The steadily beeping pulse monitor. The waving lines of the brain scanner. The tube connected to his aunt’s mouth.

“Oh Creator…”

He leaned against the doorframe and slowly slid to the floor. Every last tinge of haughtiness left his eyes, replaced instead by unshed tears. His breath became shallow and labored. “Oh Creator, it’s just as bad as they say.”

Luna stood behind him. She made herself not look into the room. “As bad as who says?”

“Oh Creator—”

“Just as bad as who says, Blueblood?” Luna snapped.

“It’s ze news broadcast, your Majesty.” Fleur just barely managed to get her words to flow as she, too, looked into the room. “Zey are all oover ze radio vaves. Word got oot aboot Twilight and Celestia. Ze ponies are panicking. Zey are ready to riot.”

Blueblood let out a low, repressed cry. Fleur sat beside him and nestled her chin on his shoulder.

Luna scrapped a hoof along the floor. It left a deep scratch behind. “Who. Told. Them?”

Light from the windows fell away as shadows drew together from every corner, converging on Princess Luna. The temperature dropped down at least ten degrees, sending a chill through every pony present.

“Who spoke of my sister’s condition?” she hissed. “Who would dare? What did they say?”

“Princess Luna,” Applejack said, “you need to get outside the hospital if yer gonna be doin’ shadowy stuff like that. It ain’t good fer Celestia or Twi—”

“Silence, Lord Mayor!” Luna spread her wings over Applejack, blotting out the light. “If the news outlets are spreading lies, there shall be repercussions! If they have been sharing information deemed secret for the protection of a life, there shall be greater repercussions! And all shall pale in comparison to that which I shall visit upon the pony responsible!”

There was no flash of teleport. The shadows seemed to swallow Luna up in a black hole, leaving nothing but a slight chill in the air and the rumble of distant thunder.

“Uh…” Applejack gulped. “Uh, ah think we ought to go after her.”

Rarity nodded. “She’ll no doubt head for the largest news network in the area. I’ll lead the way.” They left together, followed by a few Royal Guards.

Blueblood stared at his aunt for a long time. He barely registered his wife’s murmured reassurances. His head buzzed from the pressure of his sobs.

“Auntie… you were supposed to be invincible.”

***

A secretary continued to tap at her typewriter despite the pony that had appeared out of thin air. “Do yah have an appointment?”

“Aye.”

“What name do I give the editor?”

“Princess Luna.”

The secretary grimaced. She rolled her eyes and leaned on her elbow. “Really, now? Yah really expect me tah—”

Princess Luna stood tall, shrouded in black shadows save for her glowing blue eyes. A bitter chill touched the secretary’s bones.

“Go right in.”

Luna nodded and pushed open the door to the office. The editor of the Canterlot Chronicle and owner of the Ewe News Radio Station looked up from an argument with his photographer. His moustache bristled. “Your Majes—”

Where did you learn about the assassination?” Luna shouted in the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Why have you shared the information?

“Ponies were waking up with a message in their mailboxes!” the editor yelped. “They held notes on last night! Pictures! They came to us for answers! We were just reporting on the chaos!”

He leaned back in his chair as Luna leaned over his desk, her eyes frigid and hard. She peeled back her lips, revealing sharp fangs. “You say the information was made public before you knew about it?

“Random mailboxes. Maybe a hundred.” The editor tried to look away from her face, but he couldn’t. He kept getting drawn into the piercing eyes with their slit pupils. “We said not to believe it until we could get a confirming or denying statement from you!”

The photographer hid beneath the editor’s desk. “Sounds pretty confirming to me.”

Silence, foal!” Luna shouted at the desk.

“I told you she was going to be in here.” Rarity’s voice came from outside the room, accompanied by a series of hoofsteps. “Fancypants tells me that it’s the largest information network in Equestria, or quite nearly.”

She and Applejack poked their heads in, and the guards after them. The mayor cleared her throat. “Are yah just ’bout done here, yer Majesty? We got kinda a crisis goin’ on.”

“Quite nearly.” Luna’s voice was no longer at full volume. She glared at the editor. “You wish for a statement?”

The editor nodded. Blood rushed to his head. “Yes, your Majesty.”

“It is the same as before. Celestia and Twilight both are recovering.” She bared her teeth, which no longer held as sharp a point. “Exact details of their location and status cannot and will not be revealed as long as their lives are in danger. Do I make myself clear?”

The editor nodded rapidly. “That’s all we want, your Majesty.”

“If you will excuse me,” she said, “I must go and help quell the riots this news has ignited.”

There was a deep wump felt in their hearts as Luna vanished. The photographer peered out from under the desk. “Nothing like a visit from our sovereign, is there, sir?”

“Shut up.” The editor looked at Rarity and Applejack, who were staring at the faint haze left behind by Luna’s teleport. “Um. While you two are here, can we get a statement about the messages?”

Applejack shoved her hat onto her head and trotted out the door. “No comment.”

***

Care pushed her way through a crowd gathered in Canterlot’s streets. She shoved aside a large stallion and found herself in a market place. A few of the store windows had been busted. “What the hay is going on, here?”

She nearly got run down by two stampeding mares. She danced out of the way and held her hooves up. “Watch where you’re going, morons!”

Across the street, an earth pony mare hefted a brick. Care ran towards her. “Hay! Hay, you! Stop that—”

The mare smashed a window into tiny pieces and took the jewelry on the other side. She gave Care a glance. “End of the world, sweetheart.”

Care spun her around by the shoulder. “You put that back right now!”

The mare lifted the brick to bring it down on Care’s head. The unicorn guard sent three lightning-fast punches into the mare’s gut. She toppled over.

Care squared her hooves and lit her horn. It went from the same pink as her eyes to bright orange. A ball of fire shot into the sky, where it exploded with an echoing bang.

All eyes turned to Care. She took a deep breath in. “Just because the princesses are hurt does not give you permission to steal stuff from ponies!”

The mare she’d knocked down grabbed a necklace and ran off. Most ponies alternated between robbing and running from some imagined fear. Care set her jaw and marched onward.

“Hay, Captain.” Daring Do reached out of an alley and dragged Care inside. She whispered in her ear. “We gotta head back to Ponyville for something.”

“Where the heck did you come from?” Care said, eyes wide. “Why aren’t you at the hospital?”

“’Cause things are super screwed up right now. I’ll tell you about it en route.” Daring Do’s eyes shifted around at the mayhem. “Too many ponies around here for my taste. Gotta get away, just for a couple days. Gotta get a game plan together, you know?”

“Yeah, because we’re so awesome at planning.” Care pulled away from Daring’s grasp. “We’ve got other obligations now. We have to help stop the riots—”

“The riots ain’t gonna stop until the stinking princesses are better!” Daring snatched Care’s foreleg. “And that ain’t gonna happen for good until the assassin is put down!” Her grayscale mane hung before her eyes. She blew it back. “I need your help, Cap.”

Care hung her head. She pulled back her long green mane and wrapped it in a loose ponytail. “Twilight Sparkle was our team’s only real chance of beating Hurricane head on.”

“I know,” Daring said. “That’s why I need to see if I can’t get a legend out of retirement.”

***

Spike sat at the foot of a hefty radio. He’d listened to the same message countless times, but it still stung. Twilight Sparkle was hurt.

They said not to believe it until they got a statement from Princess Luna, but Spike knew it was true. He crumpled up the message from Twilight Velvet asking him to pray for a quick recovery.

Twilight Sparkle had gotten hurt, and he wasn’t there to help her.

Another message lay on a nearby table. It was from Rarity, saying that she and Applejack were going to return to Ponyville. Saying that he should stay far away from Canterlot, because it just wasn’t safe. He shouldn’t go to Twilight’s side. They were going to move her far, far away and he couldn’t’ go with her.

He slammed his fist in the crystal wall of the castle. A hairline fracture ran up to the ceiling.

The doorbell chimed a light, friendly double-tone. His ears twitched. He let out a little sigh and touched the wall with a clawtip. “Gonna have to polish that out later.”

He walked through the castle, picking his way through the many corridors and hallways. He hopped down the staircase and came to the first floor. The doorbell rang again.

“I’m coming,” he muttered as he passed the seven thrones in the central room. “It’s a big castle. Sheesh.”

He growled as he tugged the enormous handles on the castle’s front door. “Nopony has any patience anymore, do they? Just rah, rah, rah, gotta get ’er done. Nopony just stops and smells the—”

The door opened, but there was nopony on the other side. Spike looked down and found a small pot seated on the welcome mat. The pot held a bouquet of blue flowers.

Poison Joke.

Spike leapt back, one leg raised to shield him from the dangerous plants. He was about to light them up with a burst of flame when he saw the note beside them. Addressed to him.

He lay on his belly and stretched himself out. He snatched the edge of the letter and dragged it close. He unfolded the paper and read it with trembling claws.

Dear Spike,

I’m terribly sorry to hear about Princess Twilight Sparkle. Such a shame. This tragedy affects us all. Consider this bouquet of poison joke as my own personal “get well soon” gift for the princess. Don’t worry; I removed their dangerous pollen so they won’t do you any harm. Just don’t try to make soup from the petals.

I hope she’s still good for that promise of ice cream.

With a smile,
Merry Mare, Lord Mayor of Ponyville

His eyes ran over the paper again and again. He gritted his sharp, gem-crushing teeth. The page tore in two when his fists closed around it.

Spike picked up the pot, hot bile rising in his throat. He kicked the door closed. Smoke escaped from between clenched teeth. One breath later, the poison joke was a collection of charred, blackened stems. He threw the pot with all his strength and watched it shatter against Fluttershy’s throne.

He ran through the castle, overturning tables and scraping his nails against the walls. A roar from deep within his heart tore its way out of him, shaking the crystal foundations. He smashed a mirror with a wave of his tail.

He didn’t know how long he rampaged through the halls. All he knew was that at one point, he was outside the gym, looking in. The punching bag hung from the ceiling, swinging back and forth.

He hit the bag. It went sailing across the room. He pounced on it and tore it apart, flinging sand and fabric everywhere. He pounded his fists when there was no bag left to demolish.

After a while, his strength was spent. He rested his head on the sandy floor, his eyelids low. He crawled to one corner of the room and curled up. His boiling-hot tears ran down his face and sizzled against his scales.

The doorbell rang a singsong jingle.

He curled tighter. He gripped his tail, squeezing his jaw shut to keep cries from escaping.

The doorbell didn’t ring again. As time went on, though, Spike could hear a clip-clop sound making its way through the castle. He hid behind the wall, hoping against hope that he could keep out of sight.

A head popped into the room, one with a red mane and a yellow face. Apple Bloom walked in, her legs moving at a slow, halting pace. “Spike? Are yah here?”

She rolled her shoulders to get her tool vest on tighter. “Ah came to see if you were… okay.”

She looked at him, all curled up in a ball and hiding in the corner. She covered her mouth. “Oh, Spike.”

“I couldn’t save her, Apple Bloom,” Spike whispered. He wiped his tears and flicked the steaming droplets onto the floor. “Sh—she’s fighting for her life, and I can’t even be with her.”

Apple Bloom crossed her front legs. She chewed on her bottom lip. “Hay, it’ll work out. It always does.”

He turned to the wall. “No it doesn’t.”

Apple Bloom felt her own eyes sting. “Nah. Not always.”

Spike extended a clawtip and scratched a furrow in the crystal floor. “So what do you do when things don’t work out?”

Apple Bloom blinked. She shifted her weight from one hoof to another. She started to say something many times, but thought better of it. At long last, she just stayed silent. She held her breath.

She sat next to him and wrapped her forelegs around his torso. He stiffened, but gradually relaxed. He touched her hoof as tears poured from the corners of his eyes.

“Ah’m sorry,” Apple Bloom whispered.

They sat together within that crystal castle in Ponyville, sharing an embrace of solace.

***

The scarred mare’s entire body spasmed as she came awake. She lifted her head, her ears swiveling at full alert. Her heart raced, pressing against her ribcage.

She was lying on a plush purple sofa, facing a fainting couch and a lounge chair. Her body was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket. Her wounds had been redressed, and her aches were gone.

The room had a high, domed ceiling. The dome itself was made up of panels that alternated between windows and what appeared to be gold. Pillars of marble and limestone reached upward. The floor nearby was carpeted, but outside the small seating area it was tiled.

The air was warm and humid. The mare looked over the back of the couch to find a large pool dug into the middle of the floor. At the far side, a pink stallion with a long purple mane lifted out of the water. “Oh good,” he said, “you’re awake.”

The mare squinted at him as he pulled himself from the pool. Water rushed down his toned, muscular sides, making puddles around his hooves. He flipped a towel over his shoulders and dried his mane. “You fought that serum surprisingly well. Most ponies would have succumbed instantly.”

The scarred mare scowled. “Where hast thou taken me?”

“I love your Pre-Founding speech pattern. It’s so quaint.” Viscount Dulcimer walked toward her, running his hooves through his mane. He tied it in a tight ponytail that tapered at the end. “It’s like looking at a living, breathing piece of the past.”

He reclined on the fainting couch. “However, I would prefer it if you showed me proper respect. We’re going to be business partners, after all.”

The scarred mare’s eyes narrowed. “Thou can see farther into the future than I. What partnership have I with my captor?”

“I’m sorry about that.” Dulcimer ran the towel over his flank. He smoothed down his coat behind it. “However, it was kidnapping you or wasting dozens of my security detail against you. You don’t seem like the sort to negotiate.”

“What makes thou believe that I will negotiate now?”

“Because there is nothing to fear here.” He shrugged and gestured around the room. “Open air. Nearby windows. Complete isolation. Just you, me, and the pool.”

She flicked her ears around. She couldn’t hear so much as another pony’s breath. “I ask again: Where have you taken me?”

“The Blueblood estate, on the west side of Canter Mountain.” Viscount Dulcimer smiled. “You needn’t worry about discovery, though. Blueblood himself rarely visits, preferring his suite at the castle. For all intents and purposes, this is the manor of Viscount Dulcimer.”

She narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. “For what purpose hast thou brought me here?”

“You threw the proverbial wrench into my plans.” He let the damp towel slide to the ground. He rested his chin in his hooves and nestled into the fainting couch’s high back. “I have a goal in mind, miss… what shall I call you?”

Her ear flicked. “Hurricane.”

“Miss Hurricane.” He smirked. “My goal is the throne. Blueblood’s throne.”

She sneered.

“You can dismiss it all you want, but it’s my life’s work.” Dulcimer rubbed his beard. “As Viscount, I am second only to Blueblood when it comes to his property and political pull. With him gone, I would be his regent.” He looked right in Hurricane’s eyes. “I had hoped to get rid of him and take his place. I was hoping a good old fashioned courtship with Twilight Sparkle might amount to something even greater. You can understand my initial disappointment.”

Hurricane’s muscles tensed. “Dost thou desire retribution?”

“I thought about it.” A pail of ice appeared from behind the couch, followed by two crystal glasses. “With you dead, I certainly wouldn’t have to worry about Princess Twilight being a target. My plans could go off without a hitch. Then it hit me.” He poured them each a glass. “I was thinking too small.”

Hurricane shook her head slowly. “Art thou familiar with the term ‘delusions of grandeur’?”

“You think I’m deluded?” He passed her a glass of bubbling liquid from across the seating area. She slipped a hoof from the blanket to take it. “I would have to be wrong about my assumptions. Or unable to meet them. As it stands, my goal was very much in reach until you happened.”

Hurricane ran her hoof along the rim of her glass. She brought the damp hoof to her mouth and touched her tongue against it. Tasting no trace of poison, she threw it back.

“But like I said before, it opened up a whole new door.” Dulcimer took a sip. He stretched his back, flexing his muscles in the process. “I thought you might be a good hire.”

“Thou wish to hire me?” Hurricane’s ear bent down. “Thou wish to hire me?”

“Do you know how rare a thing it is to find an assassin willing to go after the princesses? Much less succeed?” He leaned a hoof over the side of the couch and ran it along the carpet. “You have two princesses under your belt. Even if they’re still alive, that’s insane that you even got close to them. You’ve got something special, Hurricane. Something very special indeed.”

“My skills, my abilities, my life is not to be bought.” Hurricane clicked her teeth with a growl. “What makes thou think I would assist thou in anything?”

“Because some poisons come in two parts.”

Dulcimer downed the last of his glass as Hurricane froze. He studied her wide-eyed expression for a moment.

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said. “The wine is perfectly safe. It’s that second ingredient you have to watch out for.” He poured them both a second glass.

She set it on the ground. “What is the second ingredient?”

He tapped his chin. “I’ll tell you if you agree to hear me out.”

Hurricane clicked her tongue. She picked up the glass and guzzled it. “Speak your piece.”

“Cinnamon,” he said.

“You’re lying.”

“Would you like to test that theory?”

Hurricane rolled her eyes. “No. Stop wasting our time.”

Dulcimer crossed his forelegs. “I want you to kill Blueblood.”

“What’s stopping you from doing it?”

“A number of things.” Dulcimer sighed. “I’ve tried to do it myself, but I’ve been thwarted too many times. The others are starting to catch on. I’ve tried to hire assassins, but they’re a little wary about going after the princesses’ nephew. I need an expert.”

He filled her cup again. “If you agree, I will outfit you with anything you need. Armor, weapons, intel, troops from my personal security detail...” He tilted his head. “And you’ll have access to all of them when you inevitably go after Princess Luna.”

She turned her head away. He chuckled, “Come on, it’s not exactly a secret. Admit it; she’s a target somewhere down the list.”

Hurricane lowered her eyebrows. “You would be willing to help slay the last being who can raise the sun?”

“There’s still Cadence. She lives in the Crystal Empire, far from here.” He grinned with two rows of perfect teeth. “I figure if we ever get down to our last alicorn, we can start training unicorns in earnest.”

“But why would you—”

“Once Luna is dead, who is next in line for the Equestrian throne?”

Hurricane grimaced. “With Mi Amore Cadenza in the Empire… Blueblood.”

Dulcimer swished his glass around. “The pieces come together nicely, don’t you think?”

“Thou art truly delusional.”

Dulcimer gave her a cocky smile. “I thought we’d moved past the ancient syntax.”

Hurricane pulled the blanket up to her neck, purposefully leaving the glass of wine on the ground. “I give respect to those who deserve it, Dulcimer.”

“Come on,” Dulcimer said. He flexed a foreleg. “Don’t tell me I wouldn’t cut a dashing figure as the Prince of Canterlot.”

Hurricane scrunched up her muzzle. She examined him from tail-tip to ears, her gray eyes scanning over every inch of him. “Thou art soft.”

Dulcimer’s smile disappeared without a trace. He furrowed his brow. “Are you calling me flabby?”

“Thou art fit.” Hurricane turned her nose up. “However, thou hast the look of one who strengthens his body for sport. Carefully sculpted clay shaped with a carver’s tool. Thou art soft.”

Dulcimers’ mouth was a thin line with a slight curve at the end. “As opposed to?”

Hurricane’s posture shifted. She sat up, her back straight and her chin high. “The body of a warrior. Forged in fire and beaten into shape. One that holds the strength required to survive.”

Dulcimer nodded in an understanding sort of way. “And what does that look like?”

Hurricane met his eyes. A small smile touched her face. She stood up and let the blanket slide off her back. She spread her wings, revealing sleek sinew and muscle on her torso and legs.

That, and the scars.

Lines traced across her flanks, back, and neck. Parts in her pale blue coat. Remnants of large gashes, epic battles, and forgotten wounds. None of it even came close to matching the gruesome scar on her cheek.

“The strength of the warrior, Dulcimer,” she said. “That—not politics, not money, not insider information—is true power.”

Viscount Dulcimer raised his glass. “It’s as impressive as I’d been lead to believe. As are you.”

Hurricane stepped down from the couch and raised her own glass. She drank deep and walked across the seating area, a slight sway in her hips. “And thou art full of surprises of thine own, art thou not?”

“I like to keep myself well-rounded. Well-read.” He watched as she set her glass beside the ice pail. She circled around the fainting couch, but not before flicking his nose with the tip of her tail. “I… always have at least one more secret to tell.”

She leaned over the high back of the couch. She ran her hooves over his shoulders and rubbed his chest from behind. “Then perhaps thou shall appreciate my secret.”

Her right foreleg tightened around his neck while the other grasped the side of his head. She twisted his head slightly, just enough for him to know she could continue the rest of the way at any time. She hissed in his ear. “Such as which of the two of us holds the real power here.”

He blew a gurgling breath through his mouth.

“Thou art nothing compared to me.” Hurricane lifted him into a seated position. “Thy paltry plans are weak imitations of the true future of Equestria. Thou art living a farce. Tell me, Dulcimer, who among us has any power?”

She never let go of his neck, but the next second saw her lying on her back, battered and bruised, every muscle aching. She tried to sit up, but was pressed down by a hoof to the throat. One blackened eye squinted. “Wh-wha—?”

“I have an answer to that,” Dulcimer said. His horn glowed with the aftereffects of a spell. “But our ‘Q’ and ‘A’ session just timed out. You can agree to work with me, or you can fade into obscurity when they find your body washed up at the base of Canter Mountain.”

“Thou dastard!

Dulcimer closed his eyes and leaned harder on her neck. “This could have been a nice meeting between two close business partners, you know. This is your own fault. Are you with me?”

Hurricane ground her teeth. “Aye.”

“Excellent. All in all, not a bad meeting.” He smiled as he helped her up. She slumped against the sofa. “We should do this again sometime. See if it doesn’t end up different.”

She clutched her chest, which felt like she’d been repeatedly kicked in the ribs. “Aye. That we should.”