• 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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Schemers

Scuttlebutt slithered through the hallways of Canterlot Castle. His rubbery hooves gripped the walls and pulled him forward, above guards and around servants. The wing of the castle that housed Celestia’s personal chambers lay empty and dark for the most part on this Nightmare Night. It granted him almost free roam of the entire palace.

The thick double-doors to her suite, emblazoned with the symbol of the sun, loomed before him. There wasn’t much of a gap beneath the doorway, but it was enough. The wight flattened himself against the ground and seeped through the crack. Once inside the dark room, he rose from the floor, a cheese-eating grin on his ratty face.

Celestia’s princess-sized bed dominated the room for the most part. To the left was a relatively small desk designed for private letters and minor court work. To the right was the balcony, sealed off from the outside and covered in heavy curtains. Across the room, straight ahead, was a small, potted tree. Scuttlebutt bent low until his chin scraped the floor. He crawled hoof over hoof over the marble floor and fuzzy carpet.

The door clicked behind him. Scuttlebutt rushed to the bed and slid beneath the hanging skirt, hiding himself from view.

A youngish, pudgy unicorn stallion trotted into the room. He adjusted his monocle with a huff. “Dreadfully dreary in here. Won’t do at all. Really should speak to Raven about this. Can’t abide the dust. Can’t abide it.”

“Quit fussing, Natter.” A pegasus maid pushed a cart in behind him. She trotted up to the curtains and threw them open. “It hasn’t been that long since Luna close this room… off.”

Sunlight streamed through the window. Clouds of dust swam through the sunbeams, causing the mare to cough. She waved her hoof in front of her face. “Then again, a month of emptiness has a way of filling up a room.”

Scuttlebutt hissed and skittered deeper under the bed, away from the sun. His soulless black eyes glared at the two ponies standing between him and his target. A pointed tongue snaked across his thin lips. The stallion was a little fat for his tastes. Junk food. Bad for the cholesterol. The mare, on the other hand, was thin yet strong. Most pegasi had delectable wing muscles at the least. Just enough toughness to give the jaw a workout.

“Well, time we filled it with something besides dust.” Natter, the princesses’ Royal Scheduling Advisor, hobbled over to the tree. He lifted a hoof to caress the branches. Dead leaves crinkled to the floor. “Poor thing hasn’t had much care. It isn’t dead, is it?”

“Probably just needs a little water and sunshine.” The maid brushed her wingtips over the pictures and portraits on the wall, wiping away cobwebs and clearing away a thick layer of dust. “I think it’s hibernating from the cold, too. Or sleeping, or whatever trees do.”

The sunlight reflected on something in the branches, drawing Scuttlebutt away from his gruesome fantasy. He could see his prize from where he lay: A small shard of glass, the last remains of a portal to a distant world.

Natter touched a small shred of paper hanging beside the mirror fragment. The word “Always” was written across it. Immense care was put into each letter, each lovingly-crafted loop. “Every time I ask her about these, she changes the subject.”

The maid peered over his shoulder, putting their backs to Scuttlebutt. “Ask her about what?”

“This broken mirror, here. And this little note.” Natter looked at his blue-coated reflection with a furrowed brow. “They’re obviously very important, but for the life of me I can’t figure out why.”

The mare rubbed her chin. She squinted at the note until a long, wriggling smirk worked its way across her face. She hopped away with light wing beats. “You always were clueless in matters of the heart, Nat.”

He drew his head up and left the tree behind. “Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

Scuttlebutt stretched himself out to a long, thin snake of a pony. He slithered along the edge of the wall, just out of sight. His sharp teeth slid against each other, eager for a bite.

“Come on, Nat! That flowery script? Hanging from a potted tree in her personal chambers? Front and center right next to her fireplace where she can look at it as she wakes up and goes to sleep?” The maid giggled, accidentally letting a snort escape. “It’s love, you doofus.”

Natter’s jaw dropped. He stepped forward, almost stomping on Scuttlebutt’s nigh-invisible tail. “The princess? In love? Preposterous!”

“Tell me it’s crazy, but the evidence is there.” The maid rolled her eyes. “Almost as preposterous as you falling in love, I’d say.”

Natter blathered for a good minute, various non-words pouring from his mouth. He set about pulling the covers from Celestia’s bed and folding them in a magic spell. “That’s hardly fair, Sky.”

Scuttlebutt flattened himself to hide behind the tree. His hooves morphed into clawed hands, wrapping their fingers around the thin trunk. A drop of drool escaped his mouth. With a motion quicker than a blink, a claw severed the string holding up the mirror shard. The glass landed soundlessly in his palm.

A pang hit his stomach. It had been a long time since he’d feasted on a pony. Even the chubby one was starting to look appetizing. He watched them work for a moment or two, going about the room, tidying up, making the place look more like a home. He backed to the wall and climbed to the ceiling. It wouldn’t take long. He just needed to drop on top of one and silence the other before they could sound the alarm. After he shut the door, he would have all day to enjoy them.

A claw stretched out, reaching for Natter’s throat.

The stallion turned his head, and the arm vanished from sight. “Miss Wishes, what sort of pony does a princess fall in love with?”

“I dunno.” Sky Wishes tilted her head back. Scuttlebutt scrambled into one of the few shadowed corners that remained. “Somebody who’s strong, loyal, steadfast, and true, I guess. Being an absolute knockout doesn’t hurt, I’d say.” She tossed her plum-striped mane. “Why? You planning to make a move on one of them?”

“No, no, no, heavens no!” Natter rubbed a hoof down his face. He missed the misshapen form of the wight whisking its way across the wall. “It’s just a point of curiosity. It boggles the mind that Celestia would… well, feel that way about somepony.”

Sky Wishes shrugged. “Worked for Cadenza, didn’t it?”

“Touché.” Natter piled the folded comforter onto the cart, ready to be carried to the washroom. “I imagine that since we haven’t heard from the lucky pony, it hasn’t exactly worked out.”

Sky Wishes touched down. She sauntered over to Natter with a shrug of her shoulder. “Unless it’s some sort of secret. A love kept out of the public light. They sneak candlelit dinners out from under the staff’s notice. They exchange passionate kisses by the light of the moon… Doesn’t it sound romantic?”

Natter’s face blushed a deep red. He began to polish his already crisp monocle. “Hrm, of course, if you say so, why not, burhuh, harrumph.”

Scuttlebutt slunk his way beneath the bed until he was at the back of Natter’s hooves. He stood up, his jaws wide, as Sky Wishes tiptoed forward from the front.

She snickered and pulled a soft cloth from her cart. “Has anybody told you you’re adorable when you’re grumbling incoherently?”

Scuttlebutt’s teeth sharpened in anticipation of biting into Natter’s neck.

The door clattered open. Scuttlebutt let out a snort of frustration and sank back into the shadows. A Royal Guard stood at attention. “Royal Scheduling Advisor Natter,” the guard said, “Princess Luna requests your presence at Canterlot Hospital.”

Natter pulled a pocket watch from his jacket. “Dash it all, so much for my daily distraction… Counterpunch, would you stay with the room and keep Miss Wishes safe?”

The guard smiled. “That’s my assignment, sir. Luna’s putting the castle guard on quadruple-watch. If there’re any assassins or monsters skulking around, we’ll find them.”

“I wonder how much of that has to do with the changeling attack of a few weeks ago.” Natter coughed and tucked his watch away. “Um. Perhaps another time, Sky?”

She wrinkled her nose. “As usual.” She fluttered into the air and cleared the cobwebs off of a hanging lamp. “So long, Nat. Keep safe.”

The scheduling advisor bobbed his head, pursed his lips, and walked away.

Sky felt a chilly breeze blow across her coat. She turned her head to see that the balcony door was open. “Huh? Wasn’t that closed?”

She stuck her head outside and looked around for as long as she could stand the frigid fall air. She rolled her eyes, letting the door click shut.

She never noticed the wight crawling on the outer walls of the castle, headed for the ground with his purloined mirror.

***

Prince Blueblood leaned over the Crystal Palace’s dining room table, burying his head in his forelegs. His head throbbed, as usual. His foggy brain made it difficult to grasp the glass in his magic. A glass he hadn’t drank out of yet. He couldn’t muster up the strength. What did it matter? His head would still hurt, and his aunt would still be… dead to the world.

The silence was broken by the light tap of silver horseshoes. Blueblood didn’t look up. He knew who they belonged to. He covered his eyes and tried to squeeze the headache away.

The chair beside his slid out. “Hello, Husband.”

“Fleur.” He laid his head on its side. “Did you know that all of this could be ours?”

Fleur opened her mouth to say something, but the something got stuck halfway up her throat. She let out a dainty cough. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“All of this. The Crystal Empire. Equestria. I, King Blueblood, and you, Queen Fleur de Lis.” He heaved a sigh. “And so it would have been, until my ancestor Periwinkle gave it away.”

He stared at the golden brown liquid in his cup. “When it was time for him to take command, he backed down. Abdicated. Gave it up to the alicorns. Reduced us to the role of minor nobles. Took away what set us apart.”

He shrugged. “So our quote-unquote ‘aunts’ gave our quote-unquote ‘cousin’ charge over the crystal ponies.” He nudged the cup with a spark. “And left the Royal Family to become a long line of screw-ups.”

Fleur tapped her hooves together, saying nothing.

Blueblood sat up in his seat. His horn lit to drag the cup closer to his chest. “What do you want?”

She rubbed a patch of fur that had decided to stick up. An ear tilted itself down before she was able to suppress the expression. “To be honest.”

Blueblood tilted his head back and took a deep swig. He let the glass slap back to the tabletop. “Well, I’m ready. Release the brutal honesty. It can’t be the worst thing to happen today.”

Fleur looked down. Her slender neck bent forward as she bowed her head. “I didn’t just come to the Crystal Empire for safety. I came because…” She took on a thick accent as emotion flooded her voice. “Blueblood, our marriage is failing. Ze only reason we’re still together is because divorce among the royal family is unheard of.”

Blueblood sighed. He took another deep swig. “I rescind my previous statement.” His bloodshot eyes glared at a distant point on the far wall. “So you came up here to separate? To distance yourself from me?”

“No!” Fleur’s hoof clapped against the table. The sound echoed all around the room.

Blueblood set his cup down gently. He leaned into the high-backed chair. “What, then?”

Fleur de Lis brushed her mane behind her ear. She rubbed her hoof against the arm rest, keeping her distance from Blueblood’s leg. “I came here to see Cadence. I came here to get advice.

Blueblood pulled his hind legs onto the chair and turned to his wife. He frowned, revealing the wrinkles gradually forming on his face. “What?”

“I don’t want to leave you, Blueblood,” Fleur whispered. “I want to save the marriage. I want to love you again. I know it will be hard. I know it would be easier to just split. But I…”

“I’m not worth it.”

Fleur watched, her mouth open in a soundless cry, as Blueblood stood up. He paced around the table, rubbing his head with a hoof. “What do you mean ‘not worth it’?” she asked.

Blueblood groaned from the pit of his chest. “I mean don’t bother. Give it up. I don’t matter.”

Fleur propped herself on her forelegs. “Blue Eyes Platinum Blueblood, how dare you? You won’t even consider—?”

“I’m not worth it!” Blueblood cried. He met his wife’s gaze with glazed eyes. They stared until he was able to peel himself away and resume his trot. “I’m a stuck-up, self-righteous, self-obsessed, pompous idiot… and everypony’s happy to tell me as much.”

He loosened his blue bowtie with a jerk of his hoof. “You can’t change me. Celestia couldn’t change me. I’m simply not worth your time.”

“I know I can’t change you,” Fleur said. “I don’t want to change you.”

Blueblood huffed. “Then why bring it up?”

“Because I remember a time when every moment together was like a dream.” She wrapped her forelegs around her chest, squeezing warmth into her body. “When we would lay together at night and whisper secrets into each other’s ears. When every sunrise was a song and every evening was a melody. When I could look into your eyes and know what you were thinking. And you, me.”

Blueblood stumbled, dropping to his rump on the far side of the table. He hung his head and let his mane fall around his face. “Then we grew up.”

Fleur lifted herself up. “I want to bring that time back.”

“You can’t turn back the clock.” Blueblood waved a hoof weakly before letting it drop to the floor. “Not a thousand years and not one. You live in the world you make for yourself.”

Fleur felt wetness run down her cheek. She nodded. “So let’s make a better world.”

Blueblood tilted his head back to look at the high ceiling. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed at the warm, soft-glowing crystals. “Can we?”

“It only took the Creator a week.” Fleur laughed and wiped her face. “It might take us a bit longer, but… I want to try.”

“How?” Blueblood whispered. “Where would we even start?”

Fleur cantered around the edge of the table. She bent down to touch her hooves to her husband’s. “Where we started once before, perhaps?”

Blueblood winced, rubbing his head. “I’m not as spry as I once was.”

“Neither am I.” Fleur took a step back to let him up, but didn’t let go of him. “But tell me you can’t cut a rug.”

“Oh, that I could,” Blueblood said. “Given the proper tune.”

Soft, bright notes sounded throughout the room. They bounced off the crystal, echoing and building into a small, intimate symphony. Blueblood raised an eyebrow at his wife, whose cheeks glowed pink. “Went to Cadence for help, eh?” he asked.

“She’s trying a more hooves-on approach, she says.” Fleur covered her mouth to hide a smile. “It’s a bit of an apprenticeship, on top of that.”

“Employing her two little cherubs, is she?” Blueblood levitated his glass from the table to his side and finished it off. “I think I might need a few glasses more with them on the case.”

Fleur laughed aloud. “So long as you can stay on your feet!”

“Believe me, dear—” Blueblood wrapped his foreleg around her waist and twirled her around. “—once the migraines dull, there’s no stopping these hooves!”

***

The crystalline, strawberry-coated pegasus filly let out a yelp. “Yes! Nailed it!”

Silver Lance leaned against a phonograph, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He watched Cousin Blueblood and Cousin Fleur twirl around the dining room. “They look pretty happy. Is that it? Have they fallen in love again?”

“Well…” The filly pawed at the countless ribbons tied into her dark mane. “I think they’ve decided they want to be in love again. I think that’s the important part.”

Silver leaned against a glistening hoof. “You think they could fall in love to a better song? Maybe something by Sweetie Belle?”

“No! This is nice and romantic.” The filly sat up straight and preened. “Besides, it’s my job to choose the song.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m a year older than you, so I’m the boss.”

Silver pouted. He jumped to his hooves and trotted towards the doorway. “Mommy! Mom! Twilight’s using the ignoratio elenchi fallacy in an argument!”

Twilight Amore lowered her eyebrows and lifted a protective wing over the music player. “Look who’s aiming for the ‘appeal to authority’ fallacy…”

***

The high-pitched squeals of the foals’ voices reached Blueblood’s ears, causing them to lie back against his head. “Such delightful cherubs, indeed.”

Fleur pressed her lips together. She touched his cheek. “They just want to help.”

Blueblood closed his eyes. “They’re doing an amazing job helping the headache.”

Fleur let the air out of her chest. As the song wound down, she pulled him to the hallway. “Come on. Let’s find a quiet place for you to lie down. Would that be alright?”

Blueblood frowned, his ears drooping down. “Yes, Fleur. That would be marvelous.”

They left hoof-in-hoof. Fleur looked back over her shoulder to see Twilight Amore peering after them. She gave the filly a wink.

Twilight packed up the phonograph, gave the room one last sigh-filled glance, and headed for a late breakfast.

***

Blankety Blank huddled down at one of the café’s outdoor tables. It was a warm Nightmare Night afternoon. What little breeze there was served to freshen the air and bring in scents of the various treats and novelties being baked all around town. Caramel apples oozed sugary goo. Apple pies steamed on window sills. Bags of candy were being prepared for the evening’s festivities.

All around, foals of every size, tribe, and color were making last-minute changes to their ensembles. There was a scarecrow here, a clown there, and a wonderbolt or two making their way to the city square.

A tangible, tangy excitement tickled the tip of Blankety’s tongue. He smiled despite himself.

“First Ponyville Nightmare Night?” Time Turner said. He secured his long scarf tighter around his neck. “You’re in for a doozey, no mistake. I think it’s still the single most elaborate celebration in Equestria. There’s games, and prizes; a live band… Princess Luna even visits most years. I think this might be the first in the last five she hasn’t been able to come.”

Across the way, a few sturdy ponies set about erecting a stage for the performers. Big McIntosh directed the flow, pulling his own weight in wood and work. Mayor Applejack could be seen divvying up the square with her younger sister, putting together the lots for the various stands and activity booths ponies were carting in. Pinkie Pie split her time between putting together trick-or-treating routes and supervising the creation of a haunted house.

“I t-try to stay away from Nightmare Night celebrations,” Blank muttered. “Most of the t-time it feels like… Like I don’t belong.”

Time Turner bit into a blueberry muffin. He gave Blankety a wry smile. “Preposterous! It’s a night to celebrate everything that goes bump in it! You’re a creature of the dark yourself, Blank. You should fit right—”

“Th-that’s the problem.” Blankety Blank sipped his steaming mug of cider. “Wh-while everypony else pretends, I actually am a changeling.” He rubbed a white hoof against the table. “I j-just don’t fit in, and I don’t want to pretend to.”

Time Turner tugged the edge of his duster. He leaned against the table and removed the smile from his face. “You aren’t going to fit in if you don’t try.”

Blank lowered his eyebrows, bringing Care to mind. “I did try. It d-didn’t work out.”

“It was one try. Some things you need to persevere at. Some things you need to try from multiple angles.” Time Turner scanned the crowd until he found a particular familiar face. He hid a grin. “Some things you need to brute-force. What if the two of us joined a trick-or-treat route? Helped chaperone the kids?”

“Y-you say that like it wouldn’t turn out to be a horrible, t-terrible disaster.” Blank grimaced. “I don’t think s-so.”

Time chuckled. “You’re right. Not as though the little gremlins would listen to a word I said, regardless. Still, I think you ought to meet a few ponies.”

Blank let the tang of the excitement mingle with the tang of his cider. “Who d-did you have in mind?”

Time half-stood and waved a hoof. “Dinky! Twist! Over here!”

A tall, thin mare bobbed her head above the crowd. “Mister Turner?” She grasped the shoulder of a curly-maned mare beside her. “Come on, he’s back!”

She galloped past ponies with her friend in tow, almost literally. Twist stumbled along in Dinky’s wake, her glasses laying askew on her nose. “Whoa! Thtop!”

Dinky threw her long forelegs around Time’s torso, barely allowing him to get a leg out from under her. “I’m so glad you’re back from Canterlot!” she said. “I thought you were in that big fight they were talking about on the news!”

“The news?” Time Turner’s eyes grew wide. He patted her back. “Well, heavens, no. If I was in that fight, you’d have never heard of it.”

She leaned back and smirked. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”

He shook his head. “I learned from the worst.”

Twist bobbed her head. “It’th good to know you’re okay, Mithter Turner.”

“Thank you, Twistaloo.” He gestured to the disguised changeling on the other side of the table. “Dinky, Twist, this is an old friend of mine, Blankety Blank. This colt saved my life a long time ago.”

“I-it was more a m-mutual thing,” Blank said. He gave the mares a small wave. “Hello.”

Dinky thrust a hoof out to him. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Blank. Mister Turner and my mom go way back, so I think we both owe you a debt.”

“N-not at all.” Blank met the hoof bump with a tiny thump. “L-like I said, it was mutual.”

Time looked to the curly-maned mare. “So how are you two spending this lovely Nightmare Night?”

“Fillythcoutth,” Twist said. “My troop is going to trick-or-treat together tonight, so Dinky’th helping chaperone.” She nudged Dinky in the shoulder. “And maybe we’ll rope her into becoming an ath— athitht—helper?”

“Maybe some day.” Dinky lifted her eyes to the sky and spoke out of the side of her mouth. “It cuts into my hours at the shop, remember?”

Thircum—Eventth out of your control, I know.” Twist sighed. “Can’t help hoping.”

Dinky tilted her head and opened her eyes wide. “You know, Mister Turner, if you’re not doing anything else, Truffle Shuffle is looking for helpers for the Coltscouts…”

“Not this year, Dinky,” Time Turner said. “This year is Blankety Blank’s first Ponyville Nightmare Night, and it’s my duty as his friend to help him get the full experience.”

Dinky snickered. “Then he might wanna come back on a year Princess Luna visits.”

“T-trust me, I’d like to.” Blank took a deep breath in. “This place t-tastes great.”

Time Turner gave Blank a sideways glance, but said nothing. Blank blushed and shrugged.

“Have you tried a pumpkin-thpithe muffin?” Twist brought her forelegs close to her chest and wrinkled her snout in a smile. “It’th delithiouth!”

“Y-yeah! And the candied fruit is b-better than anything I’ve tasted.” Blank patted a saddlebag sitting at his feet. “G-got extras for later.”

Twist winked. “Thmart guy.”

“Those are nice,” Dinky said, “but the real way to experience Nightmare Night? You gotta bob for fresh apples. The night’s not over until you get to snatch an apple from the jaws of defeat!”

Time Turner sat back and watched the three interact. “That’s it, Blank,” he whispered beneath his breath. “That’s how you make friends. Find a connection and roll with it.”

***

Care Carrot was hopelessly lost. She had run these streets for weeks now. She knew most of them by heart, by instinct. But those instincts relied on landmarks that were now obscured by cobwebs, spiders, jack-o’-lanterns, mummies, bats, and any other number of creepies, crawlies, and cat-faced cookies.

How hard was it to find one changeling in a crowd of ponies? Nearly impossible, even on a good day. On Nightmare Night, absolutely insane.

“I picked him out of a stinking masquerade ball.” Care pulled her mane out from under her plaid jacket’s collar. “Is this irony or just me going nuts?”

She touched a donkey jack who was clomping by. “Excuse me, but do you know where I could find Time Turner?”

“Do I look like a missing persons bureau?” the donkey grumbled. “Don’t answer that. Try his shop. If he’s not there, I can’t help yah, kid.”

She gritted her teeth as he walked away, his back to her. “Well, I can say for sure he wouldn’t be there. Thank you for your help, kind sir. You must be an absolute pillar of the community.”

She moved deeper into the crowd, walking with the flow of traffic. Under any other circumstances, she would have been absolutely enchanted by the effort the town was putting into the celebration, but today…

“Excuse me. Pardon. One side, please. Move!”

On one particularly ill-timed left turn, she clocked heads with a young stallion and sent the both of them flopping to the ground. The colt got to his feet first, offering a hoof to help her up. “Sorry, ma’am. Didn’t see you there.”

She groaned loudly as she stood up. She gave the earth pony the smarmiest smirk she could manage. “I guess I’m just lucky it was the first time today.”

He cocked an ear towards a shout from across the road. “Come on, Button, let’s get the show on the road!”

Button Mash turned on his hind legs. “Sorry again. Have a good one.”

“Hold it!” Care shouted, raising a hoof. “Have you seen Time Turner around?”

“Uh… Uh, yeah!” He tousled his own unruly reddish-brown mane. “I saw him with somepony at the Café Schmaltz. Go to the end of the road and take a right onto Mane Street.”

She threw her head back and let her shoulders droop. “Oh, finally! Thank you!”

“No problem!” Button Mash took off across the road, dodging ponies and carriages. “Happy Nightmare Night!”

With a clear goal in mind, Care Carrot made short work of the walk to the café. Once she got to a certain point, though, she couldn’t help but get distracted by the sights, sounds, and smells of the fair kicking into its first stages. A few musicians gathered beside the stage, tuning their instruments while the foundations were being laid. A cart advertising their ability to deep-fry just about anything under the sun bustled with curious carnival-goers. At long last, she spied her target.

Blankety sat at a table across from Time, chatting with two mares who were snacking on small muffins. Care recognized one of them as Time Turner’s employee. She wouldn’t be interrupting anything too ground-shattering, then. Maybe she’d just be a little annoyance. Just a little.

She stepped past the open, white-picket fence surrounding the café and cleared her throat. When her chest constricted, she settled for waving sheepishly.

Time Turner saw her first. “Captain! Please, join us. We were just talking about what we plan to do this evening.”

Care coughed, dragging a chair from an empty table with a glowing pink spell. She stopped when it was halfway across the ground, a thought occurring to her. “A-actually, I was hoping to talk to Blankty. About something.”

She looked across the table. She frowned when she saw him.

His ears drooped beside his head. His eyelids looked too heavy for his eyes. He wrinkled his snout in defeat. His shoulders slackened, and his hooves slipped beneath the tabletop. “W-what’s up?”

Care’s mouth dried out. She jerked her head to the side. “Can I have a minute?”

Blank blinked. He looked at the mares and Time, mumbled “’Scuse me,” and shuffled up to Care. He didn’t meet her eyes.

Care looked at him, her hooves refusing to sit still. She licked her lips. “I’m sorry.”

Blankety brought his eyebrows together. “For what?”

“For… what I said.” She fought the sudden lump in her throat. “On the train.”

“Oh. Y-yeah.” Blankety Blank’s jaw tightened. “That.”

Care’s face fell when she saw his expression. “I-I mean, I know what I said was really… sucky. I’m sorry for what I said. I didn’t mean… I guess I did mean it, but only then and now I just—”

His face softened. He let his head fall below her level and stared at a point between his hooves.

She bit her lip until it hurt. “I’m sorry.”

He sucked on his lips before whispering an answer. “I forgive you.” He waved a hoof towards the table. “You sh-should have a seat.”

Care gave him a stilted nod. She dragged the chair the last few meters and let him return to his spot. She took up position beside Dinky, putting the mare between Blank and her. “So, um, hi.”

“Hi,” came the answer from both Dinky and Twist.

Care sat in awkward silence for a second or two. “Sorry I interrupted. Just keep going. Pretend I’m not here.”

Time Turner put his hooves together and leaned against the table. He cleared his throat.

Care blew a breath through her lips. “Who asked you?”

“Nopony.” He nodded to the street. “Well now, looks like we’ve more company on the way.”

Care Carrot followed his gaze. Walking down the street, muscling their way past the variety of bystanders, were Daring Do and Twilight Velvet. They wore expressions of intense emotional restraint, like volcanoes minutes away from eruption. Whether it was an eruption of frustration or pain, Care couldn’t quite make out.

Blank rubbed his cheek. “I g-guess the break’s over.”

“Yes.” Time flipped the ends of his scarf out of the way of his legs. “Best see what they want. Goodbye for now, Dinky.”

She gave him a one-legged hug and nuzzled his neck before trotting off, Twist not far behind.

Care, Time, and Blank sat quietly, equidistant from each other around the table. They watched the two mares approach with somber expression. Blankety let out a pained sigh, speaking for them all.

Twilight Velvet reached the table first. She lifted a foreleg to it and leaned heavily. “There’s been a complication.”

“Isn’t there always?” Time Turner’s chair legs skidded across the concrete ground as he pushed it back. “Who got hurt this time.”

“The entire team of stallions we fought at the library. They’re dead.” Velvet’s breath caught in her chest, but she shook it off visibly. “They were murdered. Violently. No doubt to shut them up.”

Care leaned forward. “Was it Hurricane?”

“Not her M.O.” Velvet took a step to the side to give Daring room. “There was mind-altering magic at play. They were made to kill each other. Whoever’s doing this is sick and needs to be stopped pronto.”

“D-do you think they’re with Hurricane?” Blank asked.

“I’m not ruling out the possibility.” Velvet rubbed the back of her neck in a vain attempt to loosen the muscles. “We already know she’s not working alone, and a group of ponies who would infiltrate the sealed archives aren’t exactly civic-minded…”

She gave Daring a pointed look, but the pegasus ignored her. The rest of the team looked away, seeking something besides Velvet’s accusing glare.

“The bottom line is that every moment we sit on our rumps, somebody else gets hurt.” Velvet stomped a hoof. “We’ve got to follow our leads, find the guilty parties, and hit them as hard as we can.”

“The good news is that we’ve got a couple solid leads,” Daring piped up. “The stallions who got themselves murdered were all working for the same guy: Viscount Dulcimer.”

Time Turner shrugged. “Never heard of him.”

“He’s the Viscount of the Blueblood Estate, and a pony Twilight’s been watching for a long time.” Daring smacked her hooves together. “We’re gonna go have a little ‘discussion’ with him. Along with the Canterlot Police Force.”

A sinister grin touched Blank’s face. He couldn’t hide a glint of fangs at the corners of his mouth. “Even if he’s got nothing to do with Hurricane, we can still put the son of a gun away.”

“Provided we find evidence.” Twilight Velvet furrowed her brow. “That’s the key. It’s always been the key with him. He’s too slippery.”

“So, wait…” Care rested her forehead in her hooves. “We’re stopping the chase for Hurricane just so we can bag an old grudge of yours?”

“We’re following a lead.” Velvet frowned at Care, who stiffened her back. “Some leads don’t pan out, but some do. Don’t discount it just because it’s not a neon sign saying ‘Assassin here. Apply within.’”

“I’m not.” Care crossed her forelegs and met Velvet with an even stare. “I’m just tired of near-misses and wild goose chases.”

Twilight Velvet’s lip twitched. “Welcome to my world. Captain.”

A loud clack jolted them out of their staring contest. The whole table snapped to Time Turner, who lifted a glass in preparation to bring it down again. He smiled a plastic sort of smile. “So, then! What’s our next move?”

Daring Do blinked first, restraining a light chuckle. “First thing is heading back to the castle and going over the rest of the books. Tomorrow Velvet and I are gonna check out Dulcimer, while a couple of you guys head to Cloudsdale. We’ve got an address that might have something.”

“We also have something to share with Luna.” Velvet fidgeted with her hooves. “And we’d better hope she’s in a good mood. I’ll explain when we’re back at the castle.”

“Th-then we should go.” Blankety Blank arched his back as he stood up. “Best get this over with. Right?”

“Best get it started,” Daring said. “It ain’t over yet, guys. Not by a long shot.”

Care Carrot remained seated until the rest of them stood. She pushed herself up at a sluggish pace, as if the weight on her shoulders was physical, rather than emotional. “Not over. That’s for stinking sure.”

She lagged behind them, shooting short, unsure looks at the back of Twilight Velvet’s head. She rolled her eyes and took a deep breath in, letting it out slowly. She didn’t need any extra stress, and darned if she was gonna let it get to her.

A pony rammed into her side while her eyes were closed. She hit the pavement with a grunt. A scrape appeared on her knee that began to leak blood almost immediately. She bit back a tart comment and forced civility into her voice. “You okay?”

The pony didn’t say anything. They pulled a hat low over a wispy white mane and leaped to their feet. A flash of their cutie mark appeared out from under their long jacket. It was swirling, and white, and familiar.

The pony disappeared into the crowd.

Care leapt to her hooves with a scream. She shoved her way through the mass of ponies, knocking aside those she couldn’t move around. An agonizing minute crawled by. There was no sign that the mare had even been there.

Care broke into an open square, where ponies relaxed by a bubbling fountain. She twisted this way and that, running a hoof through her mane. Had she just imagined it? Had she not gotten a good enough look? Was she mistaken?

“Am I just going nuts?” she hissed to herself.

“Care!” she heard Daring Do call out over the surrounding rumble. “Move your caboose!”

“Horseapples!” Care said. A nearby mother covered her little foal’s ears.

With a resigned sigh, Care rejoined the flow of bodies headed in a general direction towards the castle. She kept glancing over her shoulder, but didn’t catch sight of the mare again.

***

“I hate coincidences,” Hurricane growled.

She ducked inside a covered wagon, which was being pulled by a muscular, plain-faced earth pony stallion. The bustle of Ponyville’s citizens dulled once she was inside the sound-proofing spell cast by sympathetic unicorns. A few other ponies waited inside, along with an imposing griffon.

“You know,” Zephyr said, “for something that isn’t supposed to exist, coincidences are surprisingly easy to engineer.”

“I met that mare before; at the opera. One of Celestia’s personal guards. I think she recognized me.” Hurricane scowled. “I lost her in the crowd, but she is not the sort to give up.”

Zephyr tapped against the front of the wagon. “Dandy, how’s it look? Do we have a tail?”

“Negative,” the earth pony driver said, his voice a monotone.

“Looks like you gave her the slip, Commander.” The griffon spoke through a curved beak, the hint of a predatory smile showing at the edges. “It seems you’re as skilled at stealth as you are assassinating princesses.”

Hurricane narrowed her eyes to dangerous slits. She indicated Zephyr with a flick of her ear. “Who is this?”

“I can speak for myself, thank you.” The griffon tapped the tips of his claws together. “I am Grenadier Lanner, here at the request of the Mother. I am to assist your infiltration of Ponyville’s castle.”

Hurricane ran her eyes over his adornments. A few straps across his chest secured a long spear to his back. Plastic orbs dangled from his belt. “You’re a Felaccia native.”

Lanner tilted his head to the side. “A sharp eye, Commander. You are familiar with Felaccian armaments, then?”

“I know of them. I will require a more detailed explanation.” She lowered her eyebrows to shadow her face. “Along with an explanation as to what stake you have in Equestria’s freedom. I could understand if you were from Griffonstone, or one of the Equestrian communities, but you hail from the homeland.”

Lanner’s faint smile faded. It was replaced by a hollow grin that did nothing to hide a spark of fear in his eyes. “Reverence of the Master is not relegated to ponies, Commander. We griffons are pack hunters, and the pack always follows an alpha.” He scraped a talon against the wood seat. “I doubt you complained when you received my box of wingblades, straight from Felaccia.”

“No, I didn’t.” Hurricane tilted her wings, letting the light from a hole in the tarp reflect off a few bits of metal. “I suspect if the Mother vouches for you, I should as well.”

“Good. Then there shouldn’t be a problem.” Lanner spread his wings, dwarfing the ponies in the confines of the cart. “The Mother sent me specifically so that there wouldn’t be a problem this time.”

Hurricane ground her teeth together. “What do you have to bring to the table?”

Lanner detached the orbs from his belt and laid them out. Each had a handle on the side, just the right size to be grasped by talons. “These are called grenades. It’s where my title, grenadier, comes from. If the pin is pulled, it will ignite the sparkpowder within and create a blast…” He stretched his wings to their limit, touching the edges of the tarp. “Around four meters in diameter. In layman’s terms, it hurts. Badly.”

Hurricane looked around the wagon. Seven ponies sat, including Dandy and Zephyr. She made eight, and Lanner made nine. “Are there enough for all of us?”

“No. I was able to sneak four out without being questioned.” The griffon traitor clasped his talons tight. “I’m treading on thin ice as it is. Andean’s going to wonder why your wingblade hasn’t been tested yet.” He growled deep in his throat. “You should be more careful where you leave your things, Commander.”

Hurricane growled back. She pointed to the spear hanging from his back. “And what of that? Is it one of the fabled volleyguns?”

Lanner let the pride show on his face. He slung the firearm from his back and presented it to the mare. “Only the latest innovation in Felaccian technology. It can fire one shot hundreds of meters.”

“What distance is it accurate to?” Hurricane said, running her eyes along the bronze-colored tube on the end.

Lanner’s eyes dimmed. “Around twenty-three meters. After that, accuracy drops off exponentially.” He dug through a pouch on his belt and produced a metal sphere. “But that deficiency is negated when you factor in sheer power. One ball can pierce a magic shield and Royal Guard-class armor.”

He poured powder down the shining tube, following it up with a cloth-covered ball of metal. A small rod was used to pack the ingredients into position. He hovered one talon over a switch midway down the spear. “This trigger is what ignites the powder. The controlled explosion launches the ball towards whatever you happen to point the volleygun at. You only get one shot before you need to reload.”

“One shot.” Hurricane smirked. “If all goes well, we won’t need a second.”

“Yes… about that.” Grenadier Lanner ruffled his neck feathers. “The Mother wishes to inform you that she considers this your third shot. Further failure to complete your missions to a satisfactory degree will not be tolerated.”

“Satisfactory—?” Hurricane spread her wings as rage took hold of her face. “I put Celestia in the hospital—!”

“When you should have put her in the grave.” Lanner tightened his grip on his fully-loaded volleygun. “Don’t question the Mother’s orders. You know they come straight from the Master.” A cold, ghostly shiver ran down his spine. “And he’s not to be trifled with.”

Hurricane bit her tongue until it bled. “The mirror shall be retrieved.”

“As well as the book.” Lanner glanced Zephyr’s way. “The Mother told me to see to the Grimoire Alicorn. Personally.”

Hurricane looked to Zephyr, who looked back. He gave her a small smile and a nod. He had her back. She could rely on him.

She set her cold, gray eyes on the griffon. “Very well. We’ll both see to it. For a better tomorrow.”

Grenadier Lanner returned the volleygun to its holster. “Yes. A better tomorrow for us all.”

Author's Note:

Twilight Velvet, Hurricane, Mi Amore Cadenza... they're all schemers. Schemers trying to control their own little worlds.

I try to show the schemers how pathetic their plans to control things really are. :pinkiecrazy: