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Chapter I1,318 words
Chapter II1,013 words
Chapter III1,721 words
Chapter IV1,194 words
Chapter V1,443 words
Chapter VI1,342 words
Chapter VII2,038 words
Epilogue698 words

Chapter III

Applejack and Apple Bloom had just reached the edge of town as the morning sun crept over the Everfree's treetops. Applejack normally showed up to market day early, but a busted spoke on her cart's wheel necessitated a delay, and as Mac had already gone out to plow the south field, Apple Bloom was now hitched beside her, with both hauling away as quickly as they dared. Earth-pony strength would have allowed a gallop, but this might have caused an overturn, and bruised apples would not sell. They trotted in silence, not only to save their breath, but in quiet dread of the trouble ahead. Competition for the best spaces on the main street often brought out the worst in ponies, for all living things compete most viciously when the stakes are small.

As the two arrived upon the street, Applejack found herself a little relieved at the sight—at least for a moment—as several of the prime spots still lay empty. But relief gave way to curiosity and a quiet sense of unease, for none of the merchants' carts had been unpacked and many had been left standing here and there, the harnesses laying where they had been dropped. The owners had gathered together in the street's exact centre, shoulder to shoulder, all facing toward the middle and murmuring to one another.

Applejack pointed with her snout toward the nearest unoccupied space, and they steered the wagon into it.

"Apple Bloom, set us up." Applejack began unhitching herself.

"But—" Apple Bloom looked toward the crowd and shifted her forehooves a bit.

Applejack intensely met her sister's eyes. "You're old enough to do it yourself. Set up and serve the customers, Apple Bloom."

Apple Bloom made to speak, but checked herself, closed her mouth, and nodded.

As Applejack reached the crowd's edge, she tried to get a look at the object of their attention by standing on her hind legs and peering over their heads. She only glimpsed those toward the middle, looking at something low upon the ground.

From among the murmurs, she made out a few words from the mare closest to her: "What if it's him—you know, the Glue Maker?"

Just as Applejack began to consider forcing her way into the crowd, a voice from behind called out, "Everypony, excuse me please!" Applejack and most of the nearby crowd turned to see Twilight and Spike hurrying toward them, followed closely by a brown stallion Applejack recognized as Dr. Turner, the town clockmaker. Twilight, expression grim, motioned for Applejack to follow as the crowd made way for her. As the four drew near the crowd's middle, she mentally braced herself for what might lie there.

When she finally came into view of the object, she stopped, squinted, and tilted her head a little, for what she saw made no sense. It was carved from light grey stone and had once resembled a pony. The main body lay on its side in the dirt, with jagged stubs where its tail, wings, hooves, mark, and head had been. Only the head was anywhere to be seen, perched upon the side of the stone torso. The horn was gone, but the face was the most recognizable in Equestria.

This had been the town's statue of Princess Celestia.

"You see, Your Highness—just as I said." Turner indicated the remains. "Luckily, nopony seems to have contaminated the evidence. That is, as far as I can tell."

Twilight crouched for a closer look, brow furrowing and frown deepening. "So it was broken off at the knees, cracked into pieces, and dragged here during the night... and nopony noticed until this morning?"

"No, Highness. I saw the plinth before I saw this. There were no pieces left, and I saw no drag-marks on the ground. Either I am not as observant as I thought, or this was carried here."

Twilight stood up and addressed the crowd, voice raised. "Has anypony seen the missing pieces?"

Most of those gathered stood silent. A few shook their heads.

"I say," Turner said, "you don't suppose this is simply an elaborate joke in very poor taste, rather than some sort of threat?"

"Maybe," Twilight said, "but I've learned that things like this can be signs of something big."

It was then that a new voice spoke, its owner approaching from the east: "There is not one who'd make this joke, among these honest ponyfolk."

Everypony turned to see that Zecora, while not hurrying, was already close enough to take in the details of the ruined statue. A few ponies in the crowd exchanged glances, but did not interfere as she drew up to the centre of the scene.

"It's good to see you back, Zecora," Applejack said. "Sure wish the circumstances weren't so, well..."

"Yes, good to see you." Twilight indicated the statue. "I think you're right about the townsfolk. But have you ever seen anything like this?"

Zecora frowned and intently scanned first the head, then the broken limbs, then the wing-stumps. Her gaze rested longest upon the gash on the flank where the mark had been. "Culprits aplenty there may be," she said at last. "You have many an enemy."

Turner cleared his throat. "Forgive me, Your Highness, but what ought to be done?"

Twilight stood straight and put out her chest, assuming a regal bearing. "To start with, we'll gather the rest of my councelors. Doctor Turner, I'm afraid I have to deputize you for a bit. Go to Sugarcube Corner and tell Pinkie Pie to follow you to my castle. Applejack, you do the same with Fluttershy and Rainbow. I'll get Rarity... and the Mayor, too. Zecora..."

But the latter had already turned away and begun heading east. "As hiding now this foe may be, I'll search the forest Everfree."

"I... all right," Twilight said. "Be safe. And keep us up on anything you find."

With no break in her stride, Zecora glanced back and nodded.

"We'll meet in the map room in fifteen minutes. Let's get going!" Twilight's voice was raised, and Applejack realized she was trying to allay the crowd's unease by showing that something was being done.

"Right," Applejack said, raising her own voice. "See y'all there."

As Applejack set out, she heard Twilight asking the crowd to return to their business. She resisted the urge to move faster than a trot, as the sight of her galloping might have hurt Twilight's chances of keeping them calm. She did not head for Fluttershy's homestead immediately, but veered toward the cart where Apple Bloom had been trying to watch the proceedings while setting up.

Applejack lowered her voice to just above a whisper and tried to look unconcerned. "Apple Bloom, go home and tell Mac and Granny to stick together and watch out for danger till I get back."

"But..." Apple Bloom glanced toward their mound of unsold wares.

"Leave the cart. Go!"

Apple Bloom complied, hurrying into a narrow shortcut between two sundry shops.

A few minutes later, Applejack was knocking at the door of Fluttershy's cottage. This would once have necessitated slow, gentle tapping to avoid spooking the owner, but these days one could sharply jab the door, and Fluttershy would hurry to answer, knowing the reason must be urgent.

But this time she did not.

Applejack waited, trying not to fidget, counting off ten seconds before knocking again. "Hello?" She tried to project her voice through the nearest window. "Fluttershy? Angel? Harry?" She turned and looked to and fro. "Anyone?"

For now that she stopped to listen, Applejack could not remember whether the homestead had always been so quiet. Had there not usually been a twittering or splashing or croaking? But as Applejack turned her ears about, they only caught the dribbling of the creek.

Perhaps her friend was out back, tending the chicken coop. As she trotted around to the rear of the homestead, which lay only a few steps from the edge of the Everfree, Applejack at last heard something—short flappings and flutterings, separated by moments of silence. Rounding the corner, she saw it: a single brown hen, one wing caught in the fence around the coop, flapped weakly against the mesh, trying to free itself.

As Applejack drew near, the hen's struggles grew more and more violent. She managed to avoid its beak and claws as she pulled at one wire, widening the gap just enough so it could flap free. It did not return to the coop, but beat its wings just hard enough to properly launch itself over the fence and vanish into the underbrush beyond the property line.

And now, utter silence. The homestead was deserted.

No—not entirely deserted. Applejack caught a slight movement from beneath the ramp of the empty coop. A tiny pointed nose sniffed at the air from within a hole in the dirt. Though she had never liked rodents, Applejack knelt down, removed her hat, and tried to mimic the softness the Fluttershy's voice.

"It's all right. Come on out. I'm a friend of Fluttershy."

She waited a few moments, hardly breathing, until one by one, with many pauses to sniff for danger, there came scurrying three white mice. They stopped and stood in a line, close enough to the hole that they could easily leap for it if there were a need. Six red beads regarded Applejack cautiously.

"Where's Fluttershy?" Applejack breathed.

There was a long pause. The mice looked to one another, to Applejack, and back again. Then, in single file, they turned and slowly trooped, not toward the cottage, but up the coop's ramp.

Applejack followed, leaving as much distance as she dared. The coop's door was a tight fit for a pony, but at length she found herself crouching in the dirty straw that covered the floor. Ahead of her, one of the mice rose onto its hind legs and pointed with one claw. Applejack at first thought it was pointing at her, but realized it meant for her to turn around.

She turned, and looked, and saw.

Applejack launched herself back through the door and bolted back toward the town at a full gallop, crying out for help from someone, anyone, who might hear.

For just above the coop's door, stuck to the wall by a drop of dried blood, there was a single long, butter-yellow feather.

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