• 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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Wounded

Hurricane shifted when the pony singing on the radio hit a high note. “Platinum? Are y—”

She opened her eyes to the modern-day world. The sun was already halfway on its journey to noon, lighting her room in a rich golden glow. Hurricane folded the covers away from her body and wiped her face. She had broken out in a cold sweat during the night, most likely when she had been visited by Nightmare Moon. A cold sweat for a cold victory.

The poison had found its way to the heart and could begin killing the body.

She spread her wings to air them out. She would need to spend time adjusting the good feathers and picking the dead ones. A ritual she performed every morning, as did most pegasi. But for her, it was especially vital; without pristine wings, she would be handicapped in combat. Her control over the wind would fade. Her maneuverability would take a hit. Her skill with wingblades would be nonexistent.

If she was to be the killing machine her master required her to be, she would have to undergo constant maintenance.

Her sky-blue legs bent as she rolled onto the floor. She dropped immediately into a set of wing-ups as the radio crackled on. She considered switching to the higher-quality stereo that Dulcimer had supplied, but didn’t want to give him the slightest hint of satisfaction. She thought through a few different ways she could wipe that conceited smirk from his face. Most of them were painful.

With the brief workout complete, she stretched her wings across her chest. Loose feathers settled on the floor for the manor’s servants to clean up. She slid into her private guest bathroom to wash the grime from her coat.

If there was one thing the modern day had over the past, it was showers. Hurricane relaxed as the heated water flowed over her body. She breathed deeply of the steam that turned the air into a thin cloudbank. She grimaced, her cheek twitching. There was only one unpleasant part of her morning routine…

She held her breath, shut her eyes, and pushed her head into the stream.

The scar on her cheek flared up in agony. She held back a scream as the water stung the old wound, and the soap felt as though it ate away at the decimated flesh. To the contrary, it was effectively cleaning out the horrific injury, clearing away dirt and infectious germs. Even after more than twenty years of recovery, the scar still acted as an open wound.

Well, twenty years plus however many she’d been banished.

She had shut off the water and begun to towel off when a hoof rapped against the door. “Enter.”

Zephyr shouldered his way into the room, his hefty yellow hooves thumping against the room’s carpet. He glanced into the bathroom, but turned away with a blush. “Sorry, Commander. Didn’t know you were getting settled.”

Hurricane shook her feathery mane. “In my day, the entire Elite Squadron bathed together as a matter of practicality. It’s odd that thou would feel shame simply being present.”

Zephyr smiled and chuffed. “I embarrass easily, Commander.”

“Verily?” Hurricane went to the counter, where a silver canister lay half-full with ambrosia. She poured a miniscule measure into a washcloth and daubed it against her scar. Her cheek cooled in an instant. She sprinkled a few drops into a shot glass and threw it back. “Then since you evidently did not come to watch me bathe, what purpose do you have?”

“We have our orders…” Zephyr rolled his shoulders and flicked his short, pink tail. “And they come directly from the Mother.”

“Merry Mare?” Hurricane’s wings snapped out. She turned to the stallion with wide eyes. “She never involves herself directly. It’s too dangerous.”

“She said it’s too important to leave to anypony else.” Zephyr’s wings twitched with a slight jolt of nervous energy. “She says that it’s time to acquire the mirrors.”

Hurricane marched out of the bathroom, her towel draped over her shoulders. She pulled a suitcase from beneath her bed and clicked it open to reveal the forty-nine wingblades within. She set to work preening and equipping the knives at the same time. “I received a message from the Master last night, saying the same thing. Do we know the location?”

“Yes.” Zephyr swallowed hard. “Ponyville Castle.”

Hurricane paused, her hooves on the lid. She slammed the case shut with a muffled curse. “I don’t suppose we need to convince Dulcimer that his security force should assault a castle?”

“Not nearly.” Zephyr sat on the ground beside her and held a message in his wingtips. “Scuttlebutt sent me this. Dulcimer is going to ask you to retrieve a book from the castle, and you are going to agree. Then we’ll be sent out with a full squad, and while some of us grab the book, the rest will secure the mirror.”

“A book?” Hurricane smoothed down a feather with her lips. “What sort of book does that dastard want?”

“You’ll have to ask him during your meeting.” Zephyr shredded Scuttlebutt’s message and dropped the bits into a wastebasket. He glanced at a clock on the wall. “He’s expecting you in a half-hour.”

Hurricane seethed. “We can’t very well keep the stallion waiting, can we?”

“Not if we want to keep up pretenses.” Zephyr stood up and stretched his neck. “Can I get you anything, Commander?”

“A trebuchet to launch Dulcimer out of.”

Zephyr grinned. “Anything within the realm of possibility?”

Hurricane ran her tongue along the tips of her teeth. Her eyes snapped to the strong pegasus beside her. “While I am in the meeting, find out what progress they’ve made on my custom armor set. I want to be able to wear it during the Ponyville mission, if at all possible.”

Zephyr bowed his head and made his way for the door.

“And, Zephyr…”

The burly stallion looked over his shoulder. Hurricane stood with a wing extended in a classic pegasus salute. “Thank you,” she said.

“No, thank you.” He returned the salute, a smile on his face. “You’re fighting to give the people the freedom they deserve. Without you, none of this would be possible.”

Hurricane looked away, craning her neck downward. “Yes. I know that much to be true.”

Zephyr’s hooves thumped as he turned his side to her. He gnawed his lip. “Are you alright, Commander?”

“Yes.” Hurricane gave him a resolute nod. “Yes. I will be strong, as ever.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Hurricane looked up. He returned the gaze with soft eyes and a slight frown. She felt a twinge in her chest. A spark. “Perhaps… another time. For now, we both have our missions.”

Zephyr bent a knee. “As you wish, Commander.”

Hurricane trotted back into the bathroom, rubbing her coat down with the damp towel. It had been a long time since she had a friend. A very, very long time.

Perhaps she could rely on Zephyr.

***

Hurricane stepped into the pool room, half expecting Dulcimer to be swimming around again. Instead, she found a banquet table set up in the middle of the room, beside the chlorinated water. A spell kept the chemical’s scent from interfering with the breakfast that had been set out. Blueberry pancakes sat beside orange slices, accompanied by a tall glass of cider. Dulcimer waited at one end of the table, dressed in a slick tuxedo.

“Good morning,” he said with a smile. “I was happy to hear you were willing to join me. I hope we can finally put our differences aside. Start over, perhaps. I really think this business partnership could go amazing places.”

Soft music drifted from a nearby record player. Dulcimer lit his horn, sparking three tall candles to life. He pulled the chair out and motioned for her to sit in it. “I don’t often go to such great lengths to make breakfast, but I figure life’s better when you can splurge. Don’t you agree?”

Hurricane bit back a venomous remark and trotted up to the far side of the table. “What dost thou want?”

Dulcimer scratched his goatee. He shrugged and slid into the seat. “Although you didn’t attack the airship Blueblood was on, I was very impressed with how you handled the operation.”

“If thou wish for me to finish the job, thou shall have to find him, first.” Hurricane took a large bite out of a pancake. “He could be anywhere north of Fillydelphia.”

Dulcimer took a slow, nonchalant sip. “Since his wife bought a ticket to the Crystal Empire not three days ago, I suspect you’ll find him somewhere right around there.”

Hurricane’s heart rate thrummed up a notch. She kept her face even, letting nary a twitch show. “And is that my next target? The Empire?”

“Good guess, but not quite yet.”

“Then why bring it up?”

“It’s called a compliment. People give them to each other to show their appreciation.” Dulcimer’s seat creaked as he shifted his weight. “I have a slightly more local problem that needs a little tender, loving care. My other employees have failed to acquire a specific book, so it falls to me to pick the best mare for the job.”

Hurricane bit down on an orange, sucking the juice through the pulp. “Have thou considered checking the local library?”

Dulcimer smiled, with just a hint of a snarl. “That’s what I like about you, Hurricane. Always kidding around. Yes, actually, but it ended with the same amount of success as any other attempt.”

Hurricane drank deeply of the hot cider, setting down the empty mug with a bang. “Then what is this all-important book, and where will I find it?”

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” Dulcimer said, polishing a hoof on his tuxedo coat. “It’s the Grimoire Alicorn. They’re keeping it at the Ponyville castle.”

Hurricane’s body froze.

Her wings leaped out as she slammed her hooves against the table top. Her plate careened off into the pool from the force of her blow. She glared at Dulcimer, her gray eyes hard as stone and hot as magma. “What do you want with that?” she said, her voice barely below a scream.

Dulcimer’s small smile blossomed into a grin. “So you have heard of it.”

“But… but it was destroyed long ago…” Hurricane slumped into her chair, her white mane dancing in wisps around her face. “It had to have been. Clover—”

“Was too clever for her own good.” Dulcimer leaned forward, cupping his chin in his hooves. “Legend has it she studied it for the rest of her days, trying everything she could to unravel its secrets. She poured a lot of her soul into that thing.” He shrugged, shutting his eyes lightly. “Medowbrook even hypothesized that she finished the tome herself, long after Sombra was imprisoned. Who’s to say, except the one who owns it?”

Hurricane tried to fold her wings, but they popped right back out. They shook with irrepressible fury. “What dost thou want with it?”

“I’ve always seen Clover as a sort of role model.” Dulcimer’s horn glowed, lifting a fork and a knife to slice his breakfast at a leisurely pace. “Ever inquisitive, always seeking power in its purest for—”

Spittle flew from Hurricane’s mouth. “What dost thou want with the Grimoire, thou addle-brained vermin?”

“Mind your tone.” Dulcimer clicked his tongue, shaking his fork at her. “We’re all dastards here, after all.”

“It is an evil tome,” Hurricane said, “crafted for wicked purposes and used for monstrous deeds.”

“Oh, how would you know?”

“Because I was there when it was written!”

Hurricane stood on her chair, her wings dangerously close to flinging wingblades at the next thing that moved. Dulcimer took another piece of pancake and popped it into his mouth. He raised an eyebrow, as if she had only said something mildly odd. “And…?”

Hurricane sat down in a rush. Her wings drooped at her sides, mirroring her ears. “You know… who I am.”

“I know lots of things, Commander Hurricane of Fort Everfree.” Dulcimer took a relished bite of an orange. “Lots of things.”

He laid a pink hoof on the table as he waved the orange slice like a conductor’s baton. “I know about your friendship with Princess Platinum. I know about those wingblades you get from Felaccia. I know about your long and storied history with the late, great King Sombra. I know that the book was mostly written in an attempt to make you and the king alicorns… but that it failed, for the most part.”

Dulcimer chuckled at Hurricane’s slacked jaw. “Don’t be too surprised. It’s all stuff that can be inferred from the writings of those who saw the Grimoire. All of it’s out there, save for one thing…”

He tipped his horn to the three candles. One lit up yellow, the second red, and the third blue. “Sombra had one last experiment up his sleeves, one that had a great chance of succeeding. He was interrupted by the Royal Pony Sisters before he could complete it. The instructions are in that book, Hurricane.” He pulled the flames from their wicks and brought them together, uniting them into a single white flare. “But you knew that part, too, didn’t you?”

A wingblade sliced through the fire on its way to his head.

“Stop,” Dulcimer said. The blade halted as the fire ceased to blaze. He trotted around the table until he was beside Hurricane, who stood on her hind legs, her face a cauldron of rage and her wings pulled back, ready to fling more knives.

Her feathers fluttered as one second slowly, inexorably, trickled by.

Dulcimer reached up, took her head in his hooves, and smashed her nose to the table. He did so again, then pushed her into the pool. He stood at the water’s edge and cleared his throat. “Go.”

Time resumed its normal pace with a splash. Blood mingled with foam as Hurricane thrashed. Her head ripped free of the surface with a panicked scream, followed by a gargling breath. Her hoof found the pool’s edge and hauled her upwards.

Dulcimer stabbed the thrown blade into her foreleg. She screeched and fell back into the water. “I don’t have time for this, Hurricane. I need your cooperation, or I don’t need you at all.”

“I won’t let you!” Hurricane gasped. “I won’t let you become an alicorn! I’ll destroy all the false alicorns!”

“And just who are you to say what makes or breaks an alicorn?” Dulcimer paced along the edge, his hooves snapping against the marble floor. “You can’t even keep one in the grave.”

He settled down beside the ladder. “You can either agree, on your word as a commander, to do the job, or I will kill you where you flounder. The choice is yours. End everything you fight for, or muster up the courage for yet another job. What’ll it be?”

Hurricane sunk to the bottom of the pool. She squared her hooves on the smooth surface, turning her gaze upwards. She spread her wings, gritted her teeth, and leaped. She twisted as she rose and drew the water around her like a rising whirlpool. Her body crashed out of the surface, showering Dulcimer with droplets. A water spout hung beneath her as her wings churned up the air, ready to grab her wingblades and chop the stallion to pieces.

“Hurricane!”

Zephyr galloped up behind Dulcimer, one hoof held out. He shook his head violently, gasping out words. “Commander, please. It’s our mission. We have our mission. We need to do as he says.”

Hurricane met his eyes. Her scowl softened. The wind died down, returning the water to the pool. She bit down on the blade stuck in her limb and ripped it out.

The bloody weapon clattered at Dulcimer’s hooves. “Thou hast my word as Commander of Fort Everfree,” she said, “I will complete the mission. Regardless of how I feel about thy intentions.”

She dove at him, halting mere inches short of his face. “But understand this: It takes a power far greater than thine to stay my wings.”

Dulcimer shrugged. “If said higher power says ‘do as Dulcimer told you,’ who am I to disagree?” He leaned his head back. “Isn’t that right, Zephyr?”

Zephyr’s ears lay back. The fur on his back stood up. He shuffled a step backward. “Well… I would assume, sir.”

Dulcimer reached up to pat Zephyr on the shoulder. He flicked his horn and floated the last few orange slices behind him. “You two better suit up if you want to beat the holiday rush. I hear Nightmare Night in Ponyville is a doozey.”

The doors shone with magic and shut behind him.

Hurricane seethed. “I could have torn his fool head clean off.”

Zephyr released the pent-up tension with a deep breath. “And left us without funding for our coup?”

“Hailstones upon the coup! And hailstones upon Dulcimer!” She stomped a hoof and cracked the marble tiles. “What he plans goes far beyond any evil I can concoct—”

“More evil than executing prisoners?”

Hurricane ground her teeth together. She brushed her mane away from her eyes, letting the dampness drip down her back. “Yes. Far worse.”

Zephyr nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck and leaned against the table. “I can’t sleep anymore, Commander. I keep having nightmares of that airship. I’m caught onboard, or my mother is trapped, or it’s all children… The only thing that’s keeping me going is knowing that we’re making Equestria a better place. A freer place. One where the ponies can decide how they are to be ruled.”

Hurricane left red hoof marks as blood dripped from the wound in her foreleg. “Thou art not the only one with nightmares, Zephyr.”

“No. Of course not.” Zephyr bit his lip. He reached out his wing, hesitating before resting it on Hurricane’s back. “But what you told me on that airship, about moral corruption… isn’t it worth some evil now if it means the future is all the brighter? Can’t we tolerate Dulcimer a little longer?”

Hurricane daubed at her wound with the Blueblood estate’s good linins. “There’s always one more ‘airship.’ Always.”

She kicked out with a hind leg to send a chair clattering across the room. She sucked in a swift breath through her nose. “We shall attack Ponyville’s castle. We shall retrieve the mirror portal, as the Mother ordered, and Dulcimer’s book as well. But…”

She flared her wings out and pressed a hoof to Zephyr’s chest. “It has to be destroyed before it reaches Dulcimer’s grasp. It has to be burned, shredded, anything we can do to eliminate it! He can’t be allowed to add yet another false alicorn to the ruling class of Equestria! Promise me, Zephyr. Promise me thou shall help annihilate it!”

Zephyr winced, turning his face away from her. His mouth opened, and remained open for a long pause before he could speak. “Yes. I’ll see to its destruction personally. I promise.”

Hurricane nodded, letting her reddened hoof drop to the floor. She trotted across the pool room and made her way to her quarters. “What progress can thou share about my armor?”

“It’s not going to be ready,” he said, his hurried footsteps clattering behind her. “Not before tonight. They say they still need to calibrate the electromagnets. You’ll have to use the loan armor again.”

“So be it. I can handle an infiltration and extraction mission.” She kneaded her forehead with her wingtips. Her scar blazed red as chemically-cleansed water dripped across it. “There shall be no alicorns to slay tonight.”

Zephyr folded his wings tight against his back. “Maybe we can get through the night without casualties.”

Hurricane barked a laugh. “If that is to be the case,” she growled, “they had better stay out of our way.”

***

“Cowhide covers.” Daring Do held the Grimoire Alicorn at foreleg’s length. “Tasteful as always, Sombra.”

Spike let out a queasy groan. He scratched the information down on a handy notepad. “Noted. Anything else? Any portals to demonic dimensions? Alchemic formulas written in blood? A recipe for his mother’s spinach puffs?”

Twilight Velvet looked up from another book: A day-planner with Hurricane’s cutie mark on the cover. “An Archaic-to-Modern-Equish translator, maybe?”

“That’s what I’m here for.” Daring waved her off, opening the book with a careful flick of the page. “You just focus on dates and numbers and addresses and horseapples. I’ve got the history stuff well in hoof.”

She traced a hoof over the page, which depicted a fairly-average unicorn stallion. Fairy strings traced through his body, from his heart to his horn. A series of notes were written in the margins. “Says here that this is Sombra’s research into the creation of an alicorn. Writing style and spelling suggests this bit was written a few years before the Unification.” She skewed her mouth to the side. “That and how he’s writing about using alicorn powers to fight windigos.”

The next page held a sketch of a crystalline heart, surrounded by magic formulas. “Ahuh. I found the science, guys. Yay.”

Spike leaned over her shoulder. “Anything you can make sense of?”

“I’m pretty sure only Twilight Sparkle could make sense of this.” Daring tipped the book on its side. “Sombra’s formulas for the crystallization process. There’s a note here that says…” She blinked, bringing her eyebrows low. “It, uh, says it was a failure, but it’s written in a different hornwriting style. Somepony else did this.”

She flipped a few pages forward, scanned it, and then shuffled back. “It’s all throughout the book. There are two distinct hornwriting styles. Two different ponies worked on this.”

Spike’s pen flew in a flurry of information. “Does it say who?”

“When I find it, I’ll let you know.”

Twilight Velvet stifled a yawn and stretched her back. “Was it Hurricane?”

“Nah. This is hornwriting. There aren’t any of the shortcuts you might see from mouthwriting.” Daring Do grimaced as a familiar image came into view. “But speak of Tirek… Here’s the mare now.”

Hurricane was drawn in profile, fairy strings prominent in both her wings and her hooves. “The hybridization process, it says. They tried to make Hurricane an alicorn, but only succeeded in adding super strength to her already obnoxiously-broad list of abilities.”

The following page shut Daring Do up completely.

Spike hovered his pen over the paper. He nibbled his lip, wrinkling his nose in a mild scowl. “H’okay, one more question. What’s that?”

Daring Do stared quietly at the tiny bundle of flesh in the middle of the page, several arrows calling out specific bits of anatomy as they developed over the course of several months. “It’s a fetus.”

Her hooves trembled. Her eyes shot to the top of the page. “It’s Hurricane’s baby…”

Velvet laid a comforting hoof on Daring’s shoulder. The pegasus flinched away. “What do the notes say about the success rate?” Velvet asked.

“That it was a complete success…” Daring Do tried to swallow, but only managed to choke out a breath. “Sombra called it the Celestia Project.”

Spike dropped his pen and paper. He rubbed his hands together and paced around the library. A shiver ran down his back to his tailtip.

“You’re joking.” Twilight Velvet grabbed Daring’s foreleg. “Tell me you’re making a terrible joke.”

“Yeah, no.” Daring flipped to pages at random. “Oh, look. The Luna Project. Must be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“Are you telling me that our High Princesses are the result of a genetic experiment?” Twilight Velvet shook her head. She continued to shake her head as she talked. “This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Hurricane’s kids? What numb-brained idiot thinks this is funny?”

“It’s not funny!” Daring Do stood up and tucked the book under one wing. “I don’t wanna believe it either, but it’s right there in black and—”

“What about my daughter?” Velvet snapped. “And—and my daughter-in-law! What does this say about them?

“Nothing!” Spike shouted. The two mares looked at him, causing him to shrink down. “I mean… they’re still the same mares we know and love, right? No matter where they came from. Or how they got the way they are. Does it really matter?”

Velvet grimaced. “If knowing that makes it possible to take Hurricane down, then yeah, it matters, Spike.”

Tears sizzled down Spike’s face. He wiped them away as best he could, but they continued to come. “Well… when you make sense of it, then… I guess it’s… You can say…”

Twilight Velvet’s shoulders relaxed. She walked up to his side and wrapped him in a hug that didn’t quite reach around his chest. “It’s alright, Spike. You’re right. She’s still our Twilight. And Celestia is still Celestia. But if this has something to do with why Hurricane’s attacking them, we need to find it out.”

Spike nodded. He touched a claw to Velvet’s leg. “I’m gonna go help Dad with the Nightmare Night decorations.”

Daring Do bunched her gray mane under a hoof. “Aw, come on, Spike. We need y—”

“I won’t be much help.” Spike lowered himself to all fours and skittered for the hallway. “See you later.”

Velvet leaned back in a wooden chair. “Any other bombs you wanna drop while I’m still sane, Yearling?”

Daring rolled her eyes. She opened the book’s rear cover. She leaned forward. “Actually, yeah. How’s this grab you?

Now that the Battle for the Crystal Empire has been lost, I am free to at last make sense of the insanity. After I recovered this very tome from Sombra’s laboratory, I spent the better part of my days going over every word, every formula, every arcane symbol, until I was certain I could understand what the Usurper King was trying to accomplish.

“After much deliberation, I can say wholeheartedly that the reasons presented for the creation of alicorns were quite noble. On the surface, at the least. To finally free ponies from the scourge of the windigos was a mere pipe dream in the early days of my life, when the ponies were yet divided and the monsters held sway over our people. When the Prophesy of the Alicorns was first spoken by Starswirl the Bearded. Sombra and Hurricane set out to fulfill these prophesies by any means necessary.

“Now, though, between Luna’s increasing self-destructive behavior and my own studies within this grimoire, I can say that the alicorn sisters do not fulfill the prophesies in the slightest. Rather than gifts from the stars, they are desperate poultices over a gaping wound. Their origins are tainted further still by Sombra’s madness, as he sought to gain power only for himself.

“My dear friend Hurricane was caught up in it all. I fear that the revelation of Sombra’s duplicity was too much for her psyche, which has been torn asunder. I can only watch as she gradually descends into an abyss of her own making.

“This tome contains a bounty of magical knowledge. I pray it is used only for good, rather than the violence and terror that mark its existence up to this point. I myself refuse to continue the experiments, which are so unethical as to be murderous and heretical. I have oft thought of removing the volume from existence myself, but yet I question… Is to destroy the knowledge a crime unto itself? Does it matter in the face of the crimes already committed? Do I dare share it?

“To future readers of this book, remember the danger you hold in your hooves. Do not tread lightly into the realm of alicorns and immortals, lest you be dragged down with my departed and corrupted friends. Pray for a true alicorn.

“Clover the Clever, in the Fourth Year of the Reign of High Princess Celestia and High Princess Luna

Daring Do let the Grimoire thump to the tabletop. “Welp, I need a drink.”

“I’ll take two.” Velvet slumped in her chair, letting herself slide to the floor. She hauled herself to her feet and wrinkled her forehead. She passed Daring the day-planner. “What do you make of this?”

Daring Do held the little booklet between her wings. “An address?”

“Yeah. Looks like it’s hers. Do you think it still exists in Old Cloudsdale?”

Daring stuck her tongue in her cheek. “They say you can’t go home again, but it’s worth a shot. We’ll look it up later. After we release a little tension.”

“I’d say we deserve a break.” Velvet grabbed a book at random from the pile. “Bring something to study and I’ll take you to Twilie’s cider stores. She keeps it nice and cool in the cellar.”

“Bring something, huh?’ Daring Do pushed the Grimoire Alicorn to the far side of the table. “Something preferably not bound in the hide of sapient creatures?”

Twilight Velvet snorted. “In a word, yes. I’ve had just about enough life-altering revelations to last me an eternity.”

Daring Do snagged a thick, dusty book. On closer inspection, she found that it was an old census. “Speaking of life-altering revelations… what do we do with this? Believe it or don’t, this is heavy stuff. Do we keep it a secret or share it? Do we go to Luna? Can we even use it at all, or is this just gonna distract us?”

“We should take it to Luna…” Velvet sighed. “And hope she’s doing better. Maybe she’ll help. Somehow. I don’t know anymore, Yearling.”

Daring gave her friend a half-hearted snicker. “I know we’ve got two mugs of cider waiting for us.”

“I told you, I’ll have two on my own.” Velvet snorted. “You can have just one if you want, lightweight.”

“Who you callin’ lightweight?” Daring eased her wings out, grunting at the effort. The joints popped and the muscles ached. “They aren’t even alcoholic.”

“You can blame that one on Night Light and his desire to bring his little girl up like an angel.” Velvet chuckled, then craned her neck over Daring’s back. “What’s with your wings? Forget to take ambrosia today?”

“I… haven’t been able to get much.” Daring’s back shivered as she folded her wings back against her sides. “I don’t move them unless I get a cramp, so it’s mostly okay.”

Velvet raised a hoof to push the door open. “The shortage is making it hard on you, huh?”

“Yeah.” Daring kicked a rear leg. “A shipment or two goes missing and all of a sudden the price rises two-hundred percent a quart.”

“Well then,” Velvet said, wrapping her foreleg around Daring’s shoulders, “allow me to show you the ambrosia that is Sweet Apple Acres Cider!”

***

Officer Corky pushed his way through the Canterlot Police Station, nudging aside cops and malcontents alike. “Pix! Hay, Pixel! Red, where the heck are yah?”

Red Pixel tipped his bowler hat to his partner. “Mornin’, Corky. What’s on the agenda today?”

Corky stepped into his office, where Pixel had taken a seat behind the desk. He hung his coat up and arched his back. “We’ve got an interrogation today. Chief Velvet wants us to grill the doofuses we arrested for fighting in the Canterlot Library. You got anything new on them?”

Pixel nodded. He strapped a pair of handcuffs to his belt and followed his partner through the busy office. “Just a little. Background checks show they all work in security. Trick is, they’re all currently employed by the same guy: Prince Blueblood.”

“Blueblood?” Corky laughed. “Don’t tell me the prince is a criminal mastermind nowadays.”

“It’s a hard sell, yeah, but there’s one last thing to tie them all together.” Pixel produced a set of keys, which he handed to Corky. “The guy in charge of hiring Blueblood’s security? Viscount Hammer Dulcimer.”

“Dulcimer?” Corky strode up to the door that separated the station offices from the holding cells. He placed a hoof on the handle and held back a mighty yawn. “That jerk who always has the chief on edge?”

“One and the same.” Pixel grinned. “If we play our cards right, get a little dirt on Dulcimer, we might have enough solid evidence to blow the guy’s operation completely out of the water.”

“Nice.” Corky pushed the door open. “It’s too bad the chief’s not here to catch the big break hers—”

They stared wide-eyed at the unexpected, unwelcome sight before them. The five stallions they’d arrested were still in the cell. What was left of them.

One pegasus lay with his head in the toilet, his body completely still. An earth pony lay crushed under the collapsed bunk. A second earth pony had a sharp stake driven right through his heart, broken off from the cot’s support beams. The third earth pony slumped against the cell bars, bruises around his neck and his face frozen in a scream.

The second pegasus hung from the ceiling by his neck, held aloft by wound sheets.

Corky opened his mouth. He coughed violently before retching on the floor.

Pixel had the presence of mind to scream. “Horseapples!”

“Who put them in the same cell?” Corky spat out. “Who in the heck put them in the same cell?”

“Th-they weren’t in the same cell,” Pixel said. He shivered and leaned against the wall. He shook himself off, pulling a report out of his belt pouch. “T-ten thirty. October thirty-first. Suspects arrested at the library found dead in Police Headquarters holding cell. Appears to be five homicides. Or four homicides and one suicide. Or… Ah… duh…”

“Shoot a message to the chief.” Corky gritted his teeth and wiped his mouth off. “Or gosh, the princesses, or the Royal Guard. Heck, just get us somebody to make sense of this.”

“Ch-check the records.” Pixel stumbled over to a desk near the doorway. He shuffled through the record books. “Who was here? When? What did they do?”

Corky took a step closer to the cell. His nostrils twitched. “I don’t think you’re gonna find anything. Whoever did this, they wouldn’t have signed up to visit. They wanted to shut these guys up but good. Sense any enchantments?”

Red Pixel frowned. He shut his eyes and focused, lighting his horn with a scanning spell. His eyes popped open with a whine. “I’m detecting traces of mind-altering magic. Designed to heighten aggressiveness. It tastes like…” He clicked his tongue. “Decay.”

“Makes me wish we had Blank around,” Corky said. “We could really use his talents right about now.”

Pixel nodded. “I’ll get a hold of Chief Velvet.”

“And I’ll get the Guard involved.” Corky glanced at his horseshoes, which sat inches away from his pile of sick. “And a custodian. I think we might be in over our heads with this one, Pix.”

Pixel paused in his scribbling. “Did you figure that out before or after two princesses almost got assassinated on our watch?”

“Nah.” Corky walked slowly to his desk, waving a few other officers over. “I figured that out when I found out we had a changeling on the payroll.”

***

For she’s a jolly old filly,” Twilight Velvet sang, “which nopony can deny!

She twisted the handle with a brief spell and let the cider pour from the barrel into her mug. The tang of apples and cinnamon filled the air. She passed the mug to Daring and pulled another off the rack.

But she can’t sing worth a copper,” Daring chuckled. “Her voice makes her best friend cry.”

“Excuse me?” Velvet bopped Daring on the nose. “Who do you think taught my daughter to sing?”

Daring Do took a deep draft. “I kinda expected Princess Celestia, honestly. You ever heard her sing? I’d give that mare a spot on my barbershop quartet.”

Velvet wrinkled her snout. “Your singing voice sounds like sandpaper and nails on a chalkboard. Mine’s a little rusty, but—”

“With all that rust, I hope you got your Tetris shot.”

Velvet took a few small sips, interspersed with smaller giggles. “Tetanus.”

“Whatever.” Daring Do propped her elbow against an unopened barrel. “Say, you know what this calls for? A toast!”

Velvet slapped her forehead in mock exasperation. “A toast? What the heck are we supposed to toast?”

“Uh… for you… uh…” Daring raised her mug into the air. “A toast to daughters who sing better than their mothers! And for me, uh…”

Velvet rallied her mug to match. “For being part of Princess Celestia’s barbershop quartet!”

“That’s it!” Daring and Velvet brought their cups together, sloshing their cider into each other’s mug. They brought the drinks to their mouths with two mirrored smiles.

“Hay, Mom?” Spike poked his head into the cellar. “Mom? You and Aunt Yearling aren’t getting into the ‘good’ cider, are you?”

“It’s all good cider, Spike. But no, we’re not drinking that stuff.” Velvet set her mug down gently, at a safe distance from Daring’s reaching foreleg. “What’s up?”

“Message from the Canterlot Police Department just arrived via dragon mail.” Spike waved a scroll in his claw. “I figured it was urgent.”

Twilight Velvet bobbed her head and took it in her magical grasp. She read it over.

Her jaw dropped. “Whoa. What?”

Daring Do snagged Velvet’s mug and finished it off. “What’s up? Tell me it isn’t worse than the news we got earlier. I will be cracking open the special cider if it is.”

“Not worse… but…” Velvet crumpled the paper between her hooves. “The five ponies we arrested at the library?”

“Yeah?”

“All dead. They killed each other in their cells.”

Daring jerked her head back. “Whoa.”

“Yeah, and there’s traces of mind-altering magic in the air.” Velvet’s horn flared, burning the message to a crisp. “I don’t wanna jump at shadows, but my gut tells me all these crimes are too big and too close together to be completely unrelated.”

Daring Do nodded. She joined Velvet and Spike on their way out of the cellar. “The assassinations, the attempted theft, the murders, all under the same banner?”

“Maybe.” Velvet rubbed her chin. “At the least, I think Dulcimer is in on the assassination of Celestia.”

Spike snarled. “Dulci-who?”

Velvet ran a hoof through her curls. “Viscount Dulcimer of the Blueblood Estate. He planned to assassinate Blueblood, but I couldn’t get any solid evidence against him.”

Daring Do squinted. “When did this happen?”

Twilight Velvet blew a long, hard breath through her lips. “That does it. It’s time to get our team debriefed. Daring, you help me track down our teammates. Spike, you—”

“Help Dad,” he said. He cleared his throat, wiping his eyes. “I’m gonna keep helping Dad.”

Velvet paused mid-step. She looked up at him with a tiny frown. “If you’re sure.”

“Yeah.” Spike scratched a scale loose from his arm. “I need to take my mind off things. Off lots of things.”

Twilight Velvet stood on her hind legs to kiss him on the cheek. “I understand, Spike. Go ahead.”

He walked backwards a few steps before turning around. “I’ll be there when you really need me. I promise.”

Twilight Velvet watched him go. She stomped a hoof on the crystal floor. “Well. Come on, Yearling. Let’s get the team together. We’ve got a lot to do if we wanna be ready for tomorrow.”

Daring Do grinned from ear to ear. “Heck, yeah! It’s about time we got proactive!