Lure of the Flower

by Impossible Numbers

A Perfect Meadow, Full of Laughter

On the path leading away from Ponyville General Hospital and towards the main avenues of Ponyville itself, Roseluck felt the last of the hospital-centric nerves leave her behind. That still left her with a lot of nerves for everything else, but in her current frame of mind she could handle those without wanting to gag and rush towards the nearest bathroom.

In fact, approaching Ponyville, the relief surged back as high spirits. Walking alongside her, Doc muttered under his breath. Doubtless, he was muttering many clever and brilliant ideas which, alas, were not yet clever and brilliant enough for him to share with her.

Which, she felt rather proudly, meant she could be inspired to have a few of her own.

“Do you think we should go to a doctor, like Nurse Redheart told us?” she said.

Interrupted, he said at once, “Roseluck, I – with the greatest respect for the medical profession – don’t think it necessary.”

“Why not?”

“Simple: prolonged sleep, while a very unusual thing to find in a young lady like dear Daisy Flower Wishes, is not necessarily a cause for medical concern. In any case, there is a very real chance that dear Lily Valley is already successfully guiding her back to the land of wakefulness. Should that be so, involving an expert whose time could be better spent elsewhere on more bone-breakingly urgent matters strikes me as somewhat hasty, akin to calling in Princess Celestia because you got a bit of sunburn on your shoulder. Does that make sense?”

And… she was lost. “I… forgot what I asked you now.”

“Look, the point is: have some sense of proportion. Odds are that Nurse Redheart’s little titbit of information will turn out to be a red herring.”

“A what?”

“A red herring. A false trail. So named because of the old story of the Fishermare and the Misleading Red Herring, which lured the fishermare into a lagoon shortly before the nearby aquarium released its shark collection into the wild. A wonderful if somewhat grim fairy tale indeed!”

The relief, high spirits, and pride sank back down again. Sometimes, it was no fun talking to Doc.

As they continued along the main street, however, they saw ponies up ahead gathering and funnelling through a particular doorway. Even under this overcast sky and over this squelching grass, they insisted on having their parties. On approach, Roseluck spotted Goldengrape at the entrance. He reared up and shouted words to encourage everyone to come in.

“Oh, Rosie!” he called, waving at her. “Knock knock!”

She rolled her eyes. He would insist, wouldn’t he?

“Who’s there?” she recited.

“Olive!”

Oh, that old one. “Olive who?”

“I love you too! Shall we dance!?” Quick as a switch, he burst out into laughter and just as quickly burst out of it again. “No, seriously, though, won’t you join us? We’re having a heck of a shindig, food’s on Pinkie, drink’s on me, bring your own barrels.”

“Maybe another day,” said Roseluck. The sheer joy on his face was a guilty sun; bright and heartening, but she knew all too well it was a mask. Well, it must be. No one whose girlfriend had been missing for days could really look that happy, could they?

“All right. Send my love to Daisy, OK? Haven’t seen her around lately!” Brief puzzlement blunted his face before the smile poked through again. “Um… Catch you later!”

No one, she thought angrily, unless he has complete faith in her. When was the last time he and Daisy spoke to each other? And what did they say? Oh, Daisy, why don’t you tell us these things?

She pushed the guilt away. Hopefully, Daisy would be awake and well soon enough. They could explain things then. Besides, telling him meant seeing that smile vanish, and what had the poor stallion ever done to deserve that?

So she put on her friendliest smile and giggled behind a hoof; he blew her a kiss, winked, and turned back to the crowd.

“Ahem,” said Doc, rather pointedly.

“Oh, don’t mind him,” said Roseluck, trying not to look smug. “You know he only teases.”

“Yes,” said Doc, in a voice clearly not ready to believe it. He kept his gaze on Goldengrape until the two of them turned the corner.

Immediately, Roseluck saw the castle up ahead. Doc had mentioned princesses, at least… Time for clever idea number two.

Besides, now she’d seen Goldengrape there, so close, so bright and light on his hooves as he’d ushered the ponies inside, she felt like a traitor. After all, he hadn’t seen the way his darling, darling Daisy lay on her bed, hadn’t been there when she – Roseluck – had come in to see.

“Why not ask Princess Twilight?” she said. “I bet she’d be more than willing to help, if she knew. She’d solve this in a matter of seconds.”

Doc screwed up his face. “Oh, Roseluck. Really. Don’t you listen to anything you say at parties? You only recently told me yourself she’s busy at some conference or other. Hardly ever possible to rope in a pony like her at the best of times.”

“That’s not true. Twilight was always ready to lend a helping hoof –”

“Yes well, once we had a library made out of an oak tree. Not anymore.”

Annoyance pushed through her pout. “But-But what about that party a few days back?”

“Ha! Her last chance at pleasure before a tedious week of shuffling papers and listening to boring old bureaucrats waffle on about economics this and geography that. Now look, I pity the poor dear her busy social schedule, but there you are, and there you have it.”

Grimly, she peered over the rooftops. After all, the florist’s was just visible from this part of town, and if they had woken up, then maybe this dark cloud over her head would go away.

“I want to check on the others,” she said immediately. “We’ve been gone a long time.”

“But it’s out of our way.”

“Won’t take a picosecond.”

“A scientific impossibility, in any case. But don’t you think –”

“And I’d feel better knowing they’re OK. I don’t like leaving them alone this long.”

They walked a few more steps before he said, “Oh, all right. We are trying to help them, after all. This bustling about we’re doing is for a good cause. I’ll wait here.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Without waiting any longer, she shot off. Anyway, she still had the book. If Daisy was coming back – When Daisy came back – she’d want the room exactly as she’d left it.

---

“Hold on,” said Daisy, raising a forelimb.

Both of them stopped.

After a while, Daisy said, “I… think… this might be it.”

“My word,” said Lily. “As simple as that?”

“Well, we’ve been walking for ages. Bound to come across something sooner or later.”

Daisy winced; the sundews had drops the size of her head on the end of stalks the width of her tail. Several had brushed against her coat, and now she had the horrible clingy coldness of a dozen beads smeared across her flanks and cheeks like glue. They really had been tightly packed together.

“Can’t be any worse than this swamp,” said Lily.

Instantly, Daisy’s imagination gave her a list of ways she could be wrong.

They were staring at a floating patch of light.

It had emerged very slowly out of the dark mist, initially as a mere suggestion of lighter black against the omnipresent shadow. Daisy hadn’t been sure whether it was her imagining things or not until they’d walked a little further on. The smudge of lighter black became grey, which faded to white, which became, as soon as the smudge emerged and revealed itself to be flat and exact like a brush stroke on an invisible canvas, this floating patch of light.

Both of them exchanged glances, and then tiptoed towards it as best they could on their hooves.

Now that they were closer, they noticed the light wasn’t pure white. A bluish tinge, though, became the blazing blue of a midday summer sky. No clouds. No sun.

They stopped inches from it.

After a while, Daisy whispered, “Do you think it’s safe?”

Lily whispered back, “Look who you’re talking to. Anyway, don’t you know?”

“I didn’t see anything like this before.”

And yet, as she stood close enough to reach out and touch the patch, Daisy swore she could hear, on the cusp of hearing, the tiny sounds of young laughter. Something stirred within her mind.

“Wait,” said Lily. She was stretching her head high.

“What is it?”

“There’s some grass in there.”

“Grass?” Daisy followed her example and strained her forelimbs and craned her neck. Doing so, the green suggestion tickled the lower edge of the patch like some optical illusion.

She reared up.

What they’d taken for grass were merely the tops of distant trees. Below that, colour exploded. Pinks and yellows and greens and reds swayed and danced gently under a breeze. They sang to her, tingles crept up her spine, and then…

…a strange peace flowed through her. Everywhere the peace touched, she felt lighter. Less burdened. She smiled.

“This is a meadow,” she said.

“Huh?” Water slopped as presumably Lily reared up to check.

Both of them landed heavily. Over the splash, Daisy said, “Do you recognize this meadow, Lily?”

“Er…”

Now she knew what to listen for, Daisy heard the laughter of foals. High-pitched, barely graduated from childish giggles, and yet running across her mind like overexcited fillies. She’d heard laughter like that, long ago.

Where peace had flowed through her, energy pulsed and rushed; she stepped forwards.

“Wait a minute!” Lily splashed up to her hastily. “You don’t know it’s safe.”

“It’s a memory. Hear that?”

To her relief, she heard Lily’s voice – when it next spoke – come out as a smile would sound if it could speak. “No way, no way, no way… you still remember that summer's day?”

“Like it was yesterday. Come on.” Daisy placed a hoof on the patch; this was no harder than clambering through an open window. “I think this memory is what we’re looking for.”

The smiling sound vanished from Lily's voice. “No, wait! Daisy! You can’t just rush in!”

Daisy did so, and the instant she threw herself across the threshold, the breeze stroked her curls and the perfumes turned her nose into a quiet fireworks display of perfumes and odours and wafting, heady scents. She reeled for a moment, and real stems and leaves crunched underfoot. All traces of that swampy water vanished; she even felt the clinginess vanish and the sensations dry up.

A perfect summer’s day.

She looked back. Hanging in midair like an abandoned paint stroke, the patch of black was a window back into the world of swamp and darkness.

No chance. She walked onwards.

Lily’s frantic hoofsteps caught up with her and the mare herself barred the way. “Daisy, are you crazy?”

“Are you looking at this? We’re walking through one of the best moments of our lives.”

Lily screwed up her face. “It’s nice. But what’s it doing here? Have you thought about that?”

Daisy’s rushing energy reached her heart. Everything within her chest bloomed. The very idea of being frightened by this place was nonsense, not when there were so many senses being pleasantly surprised. Even the taste of the breeze when she spoke was a memory of honey.

“Do you hear the laughter?” she said.

Lily cocked an ear. On this side of the window, the young laughter was bounding and endless, as though the sound was playing hopscotch on the head.

“I hear it, but… that… doesn’t…” Her eyes widened. Lily stared. Wordlessly, she reached across and nudged Daisy’s cheek to turn her head around.

Three foals gambolled across the flowers, tackling or running around each other. They were several yards away and constantly ducking in and out of the sea of rainbow petals, but Daisy knew who they were instantly.

Young Lily poked her head up. Young Roseluck leaped out and pounced on her. Young Daisy ran rings around them while they clambered around and over each other.

Grown-up Daisy’s knees sagged. It was never a good idea to say so about her own friends, but…

“Aw,” she cooed. “You were so cute back then.”

“I’m… still… cute… today…” Grown-up Lily clearly didn’t have it in her to be offended. For a while, both of them watched innocent times. For the three fillies never seemed to run out of energy, but simply switched from one game to another at random.

They really hadn’t changed much. True, Young Daisy’s mane – under the daisy chain she’d made for herself – was less a mass of curls and more a flat affair with the suggestion of curly edging, whereas Young Lily’s braces occasionally glinted under her flapping and practical ponytail. Only Young Roseluck looked purely like a smaller version of her future self. Yet all of them were easy to distinguish at a glance.

Eventually, the three settled down. Grown-up Daisy crept forwards, followed by the crunching of Grown-up Lily who drew up alongside her. Both of them peered over the mass of untrampled grass.

“Not too close,” whispered Lily.

“It’s only a memory,” Daisy whispered back, but she kept low anyway.

The three foals sat in a triangle, laughing at each other. Finally, they settled down, Young Daisy turning to Young Roseluck and starting to twine daisies through her hair.

“And when I grow up,” Young Lily was saying, “I’m gonna be an explorer. Just like Explorer Flora and her Plant Pot of Power!”

“That sounds nice,” Young Daisy said without looking away from her work.

“It is! And I’m gonna have all kinds of cool adventures. Finding lost tribes of ponies, digging up treasure, exploring caves and lakes and volcanoes.”

Grown-up Daisy chuckled softly. “Yeah, we saw how that one worked out, didn’t we?”

Beside her, Lily shuddered. They both leaned closer.

This time, Young Roseluck squeaked excitedly, “I could visit you in my time machine! I’ve nearly got all the pieces now. If you want, I could come back and tell you how your adventures went. That way, you’d never be too scared of anything.”

Young Lily bristled. “Me? Scared? I’m not scared that much. Anyway, you get scared easier than I do.”

“No, I don’t. I’m the bravest of all three of us. Mom said so. Ow!”

“Sorry, Rose!” said Young Daisy, drawing back. “It was an accident! I swear!”

“No biggie. Just don’t pull so hard, OK?”

“OK.” Young Daisy returned. “I’m sorry, Rose.”

“We heard you the first time. Relax, Daisy. I know it was just an accident.”

Nearby, both Daisy and Lily glanced at each other while the three fillies prattled on. Daisy saw her own smile reflected on Lily’s face, and nodded approvingly. She hadn’t realized how long it’d been since she’d seen a smile like that.

Young Lily was speaking again. They both listened.

“So what do you want to be, Daisy?”

Young Daisy paused, hooves still in Roseluck’s mane. After a while, she said, “I don’t mind, so long as we’re all together. And it involves flowers. Flowers are nice.”

“And pretty,” said Young Roseluck.

“And gentle,” said Young Lily, running a hoof along some nearby bluebells and scattering their petals to the wind. Watching the last of them drift and tumble away, she stood up. “I could send you loads of big, weird flowers from the Amaponian Rainforest. They got ones there the size of my head.”

“That big, huh?” Young Roseluck giggled.

“Oh haha. You’re such a comedian, I don’t think.”

“Well, I bet they have all kinds of… com… pli… cated flower varieties in the future. I mean, if you breed orchids for long enough, you’re bound to get something really… spe’tac’lar.”

“Not as spectacular as you trying to say big words.” Young Lily sniggered.

“Oh don’t, Lily. I’m trying, aren’t I?”

Unexpectedly, Young Daisy’s hooves flopped down. To the other fillies’ alarm, she hunched over and sniffed. Both of them crowded around her at once.

Overhead, Grown-up Daisy herself knew what was coming. Hastily, she looked at the blue sky over the distant trees, trying not to listen anymore.

“Oh, Daisy, no,” said Young Lily. “Don’t cry. Why are you crying?”

“We haven’t left yet,” said Young Roseluck. “Anyway, if we did, we’d still write to you and come see you and tell you everything about our adventures. We promised.”

Grown-up Daisy bit her lip. Her own young voice squeaked and hiccupped against the tears.

Young Daisy whispered, “I don’t want you to go away. I don’t wanna be alone.”

“Huh,” muttered Grown-up Lily. “You haven’t changed much, have you?”

Still trying not to listen, and yet leaning in hungry for more, Grown-up Daisy felt her ears burning. Yet, oddly… she remembered the tears well enough, but the memory was shining, around her and through her. She looked back to see the group hug, her own filly self caught in the middle, tears shining on her cheeks amid the hooves and torsos enclosing her.

Eventually, gracing Young Daisy’s lips: a small smile.

“We’ll always be friends,” said Young Roseluck. “We’ll never be really alone, Daisy.”

“Yeah,” said Young Lily. “And anyway, that’s a long way away. We’ve got time to play.”

Grown-up Daisy bit her lip. Hard.

Then the group hug broke up and the other two scampered about while Young Daisy rose to her hooves. “All right. I’m OK now.”

“Yeah!”

“Come on, Daisy! Let’s race!”

“Bet I can cross the whole meadow faster than you can count to a hundred!”

“Bet you can’t!”

“I’ve got time on my side!”

“I’ve got a magic plant pot on mine!”

“Not so fast, Lily! I wanna play!”

“Gotta catch up to me first, Daisy!”

“Aw, no fair!”

“I’ll stay with you, Daisy!”

“Rose, you’re the best!”

Eventually, the voices gave way to laughter, and the two grown-ups were left to watch the distant white and pink blurs crisscrossing the meadow. Daisy felt Lily’s hoof on her shoulder; it gave an encouraging shake.

“Not exactly a happy-go-lucky foal, even then,” said Lily.

“It doesn’t –” Daisy was shocked to hear the choke, and hastily she cleared her throat. “It doesn’t matter. I remember the playing. Today was a perfect day.”

Lily sighed. “Simpler times when we were young. But yes, yes it was a perfect day. I remember it now. And in about five seconds, I’m going to find a caterpillar and mistake it for a snake.”

A distant scream. The gambolling stopped. They heard Young Lily’s distant and frightened shouting, and then Young Roseluck spoke over her and soothed her into a mere snuffling. Young Daisy said something, voice rising with derision.

“Sorry,” said Lily.

Irritation was a twinge on Daisy’s mind, but it lost out to her spreading sense of peace. Now in this place she could happily spend eternity and a day.

Excitement flashed. An idea briefly appeared and then faded, but she’d seen it.

Daisy looked around, but Lily and the distant foals were the only living things on the meadow. She hurried about, flattening stems underfoot.

“Daisy?” Lily’s voice had to keep up, and strained a little to do so. “What are you doing?”

“I think this is the way out.”

“You what?”

“I’m sure of it! All the time I was here, I was doing nothing but brooding over how awful everything was. But this memory…” Daisy spotted it.

Against the bright blue of the sky, it barely showed up at all. Yet now she had an idea of what to look for, the white patch was obvious. Blue stars broke up the whiteness, blending in with the summer overhead, yet there it now and unmistakeably hovered.

White with blue stars.

“There!” She pointed. “That’s it! That must be the way out!”

“What?” Lily cast about wildly. “Where? I don’t see anything.”

“There! Where I’m pointing!” Perhaps a little too enthusiastically – oh, but who cared? – Daisy dropped her pointing limb and gripped Lily about the shoulders and laughed and danced a skipping dance round and round. “Don’t you feel how lovely everything is here? That’s the key to solving this problem! I just needed some time to see it!”

“Will you let go of me, please?” Lily broke away, dizzy and staggering. “Look, how do you know all this? I don’t even know what the rules are.”

Daisy stopped. True. She wasn’t sure how she knew, only that, suddenly and instinctively, she just knew. The solution was obvious…

…whatever it was…

…and now the white patch was right there, heavenly as the laughter and the breeze encouraging her flanks with its gentle push.

Impatiently, she said, “Look at this, will you? Does it look evil to you?”

“That’s what it wants you to think.”

Daisy groaned. Why did Lily have to be so negative about everything? She was worse than a chain.

Dismissing her friend utterly, Daisy broke through the chain and galloped towards the white patch. “Come on! I want out of here! This has to be it!”

“No! Wait, wait! Can’t we stop and think about this!?”

There was a crack as of shattered glass behind her, but Daisy was laughing and galloping and, for a moment, every bit the young foal again. Everything was wonderful. Everything was finally going to be all right. She just had to think that, said her instincts, and she could return to the light of day.

Glass? said an errant thought.

She cast it aside. Surely, she’d meant the crunch of grass. Lily was such a clumsy clod, at times.

---

The bedroom was exactly as she’d left it, up to and including the two mares lying down with helmets on.

Roseluck sighed. “So much for that hope.”

Doc’s suitcase beeped contentedly beside them. Lily’s forelimbs had slid off completely and hit the floor. Her blanket was coming undone too; Roseluck tidied the edges before tucking them in again.

She turned to the bed.

At least Daisy was smiling now. In fact, her face was smooth and relaxed with an enlightened joy. Despite herself, Roseluck smiled back. No point, really, when she couldn’t be seen, but she hadn’t had a reason to smile without effort for a long time.

Dutifully, Roseluck changed the feeding bag and let it buzz for a bit. The nasogastric tube turned yellow.

Darn did she hate that tube, but even she could hold her nose and look away and appreciate the marvels of modern technology, albeit while trying not to think too hard about the mechanics of it all. Thank goodness for Doc's endless supply of curiosity and correspondence courses…

Still, she found her smile again. Perhaps this would be the last time, and then she could throw it all away and forget all about it.

She leaned forwards and brushed a strand of curly hair out of Daisy’s closed eyes. “It’s going to be all right, Daisy. We’ve just been to the hospital. Nurse Redheart says… Well, Mister Greenhooves had some bad dreams, but you look OK now, so maybe we’re just overreacting.”

Feeling this was lame, she continued, “We’re going to double-check. Then we’ll be right back. I promise. Doc and I just need to learn a bit more about dreams. He’s got it under control. Trust me.”

I hope.

She swallowed. “Anyway, Goldengrape’s OK. He seems happy to me. I don’t know what you told him, but… If you told him… Well, I hope you told him. Because he’s taking it very well if you did.”

And if you didn’t, then I will never forgive you for it.

Gritting her teeth, she banished the thought. No. She should be more like Goldengrape. He must have had faith in Daisy’s judgement, and he hadn’t known her since foalhood. Not like Roseluck and Lily.

Lily.

What am I doing? Roseluck glanced at Lily instead. Suddenly, this whole idea seemed very, very stupid. What was the point of coming back when she’d be more useful with Doc, gathering ideas, just in case? She hadn’t even really expected the two of them to wake up. The hope had lied to her the whole time, and like a fool she’d believed it, because her insides writhed at any other thought.

She felt herself believing the lies, even now. Any second now, her two friends would open their eyes and sit up.

She held her breath. They didn’t.

She groaned and ran a hoof over her face. Little fool, she thought.

“Sorry, Daisy,” she said. “I’m just so on edge right now. I’ll try better. This is going to be OK. It has to be. We’ll be flogging fuchsias before the day is done.”

She turned to Lily.

Oddly, she didn’t feel any strong impulse to talk to Lily at all. It was Daisy who needed encouraging.

Lily didn’t. While the mare had been scared stiff plenty of times before, she never actually worried about things. She just got on with them, or blustered her way into taking charge of them, or in exceptional cases had pounced on them grinning. If it wasn’t one extreme with her, it was the other.

Nonetheless…

Roseluck placed her friend’s forelimbs carefully on the chest, so that she looked vaguely dignified, and then she patted them.

“Hang in there, girls,” she said. “We’re on our way.”

On the desk, the monstrous plant lurked over its pot. She eyed it warily. Obviously, now she thought about it, this was some kind of exotic experiment. No reason to assume anything macabre about such a weird, creepy, unnatural, alien bit of sickly greenery. Not in the slightest.

The other books waited on the pile for their companion to return.

She put the book back where’d she found it, trying not to look at the green tangles and teeth on the cover. With a final glance at the bed, she rushed out and hurried downstairs. At least she was leaving the two of them in peace.

---

Lily hurried across the patch of lavenders, cursed, tripped, and stumbled. She swore Daisy was doing this on purpose.

All of her senses were flashing alarms at her. Dreams just did not work like this, not in her experience. They didn’t give grand and heart-warming epiphanies before sending her merrily on her way. Anyway, the foalish laughter was dying away, and she was sure the foals hadn’t gone that far that fast. They’d heard every breath across the quiet flowers, from one side even unto the other, carried by that constant breeze.

Up ahead, Daisy was laughing and running, and that really got Lily’s back up. Apart from how shrill her friend sounded, she was running and looking up at a random patch of sky.

Wait… maybe she’s onto something. This is her dream, after all. Don’t be such a Scaredy-Pants.

Lily slowed to an amble. She squinted. Still just a random patch of blue. She strained her ears. Hadn’t she heard a crack back there?

What am I doing here?

Only the breeze touched her flanks, yet cold crept up her spine. Something dreadful was going to happen. It had to. As soon as anything really nice came along, something really nasty had to balance it out. Yet the blurs of white and pink played on.

Why am I here?

She stopped.

Really, what’s the point in having me around? I don’t do anything but panic and assume the worst. I’m supposed to be her best friend, and all I do is hold her back and tell her how awful life is…

…she thought.

Suspicion laced with dread: that was the cocktail oozing through her veins right now. Nothing about this felt right. And those thoughts… well, obviously, they were her thoughts, or else she wouldn’t have thunk ‘em.

In a dream. In someone else’s head.

Nah. Lily shook herself down and carried on after her friend, though was it just her, or was the meadow getting bigger? She swore they should have reached the edge at this speed, but Daisy was still running and still a long way away from the trees.

Because she finally knows what she’s doing. And I don’t. I just get in the way and scream a lot – she definitely did not think.

What the hay?

This time, the crack was unmistakeable. It sounded like a sledgehammer in a window shop. Another crack, another shattering tinkle of pieces.

Puzzled, she looked behind her.

There was the meadow. There were the blurs of foals at play, though becoming smaller every second. There was the gigantic jagged hole where reality was breaking apart – wait, what?

Lily stared.

She hadn’t noticed at first because her first impression had been blue sky, green meadow, surrounding colours of flowers, and the distant dark line of the tree trunks. The thing coming through the hole was green. If it weren’t for the flowers, she wouldn’t have paid closer attention to the hairline cracks running across the memory like the glass on a framed photograph, even as the swaying and pale impatiens flowers made the spider’s web of damage really stand out.

The thing coming through was a tangle of leg-thick, hairy stems. Somewhere within the whole, a set of green teeth…

At this point, Lily’s brain stopped gawking.

She screamed.

Throwing herself into a gallop, she shouted Daisy’s name and winced at the painfully loud crack that drowned it out. More cracking broke out behind her, but she was too experienced a coward to look back and thus slow herself down. Anyway, all her energy had to go into her legs. Her brain was light and drained by fear.

I’m always arguing or fighting or trying to boss her around. What’s the point of having me around? I don’t really contribute anything.

“Shut up!” she yelled, and then cursed herself for the slip. Words were a waste of energy.

Up ahead, Daisy –

Astonished, Lily blinked through the mist of horror.

Daisy was running up to the sky. Cheerfully. As though utterly unaware that the ground was several yards below her. Still staring at that white patch with the blue stars in it wait a second.

In that fatal moment, Lily slowed down. Not by much. But sheer shock knocked a few miles-per-hour off her speed, and the next she felt was a thick stem grabbing her rear leg.

She screamed and hit the flowers, which cracked under her.

And gave way.

Shards fell around her while she screamed again and almost fell headfirst through the floor of the memory, right into the hidden mass of stems and teeth beneath. There were no gaps. What lay below her was pure green.

Frantic, she backed up and sent more shards of memory tumbling down into the mass. Teeth gnashed expectantly below.

Then the stem which had grabbed her leg pulled backwards. Lily slid on her belly away from the hole in the memory. Having backed her away, her legs switched tracks and forced themselves into a gallop, but they managed little more than to flatten the grass into the soil.

I’m worthless. I’m an embarrassment and a bad influence. I’m not wanted. I might as well just NOT EXIST.

“Daisy!” she cried out. “Help!”

Daisy was almost at the white patch. Stepping up to its radiance, Daisy’s curls glowed as though becoming a golden halo –

And I thought I’d be an explorer. Pathetic.

“DAISY!” she screamed, close to bursting a lung.

Finally, Daisy looked behind her, and the white patch dimmed when she turned round and galloped back towards her friend, down the sky and over the trees.

Lily was rotated and dragged further. Now she had a view of the coils snaking over themselves, of the one lassoed around her right hock, of another writhing towards her left leg to pull her along faster, and of the teeth, the terrible widening mass of teeth leading to a pure green mouth with no tongue, no back of the throat, nothing but pure unrelenting green and the promise that she’d never see another colour again –

“DAAAAIIIIIIIISSSSSSYYYYY!”

Her scrambling forelimbs met hooves.

Daisy gripped her and pulled. The inexorable drag towards those jaws slowed. If anything, it went into reverse; the writhing stems drew away, letting her left leg go free. The jaws closed.

“No, no, no, no, no,” moaned Daisy. “Not now. Not now.”

“It’s OK,” said Lily. More excitedly, she yelled, “It’s OK! I think the thing’s giving up!”

The things she does for me. Good grief.

…thought Lily.

“Not that!” yelled Daisy over her own straining muscles. “I meant! The white thing! It’s… shrinking!”

“Is this really the time for that!?”

“I could have escaped! I know I could! I swear I saw my room through it!”

“Just focus on what you’re doing!” Lily felt the last stem slipping. By now, the green jaws had vanished behind the writhing mass of stems.

And still her friend kept going on. “Oh, why did you have to do this, Lily?”

“Why did I have to do this!? It’s not by choice, let me tell you!” She kicked at the stem, and it slipped down to her hoof.

“We could’ve escaped! We would have done it! I swear I heard Rose's voice out there! Oh, no, but you had to be paranoid! You had to be slow.”

The stem tightened so suddenly that Lily yelped and Daisy’s grip slipped instead. Hastily, the hooves grabbed Lily’s own again and pulled.

“This is your nightmare, Daisy! Don’t blame me for getting nervy!”

“Why didn’t you trust me!? We’d have been out of here by now if it weren’t for you!”

“Trust you!? I’m getting attacked by a giant killer plant, and you think I should trust you!?”

“It’s just a dream!”

“I don’t want to die in a dream!”

“You wouldn’t!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Oh, for pity’s sake! For once, can’t you just stop being such a Scaredy-Pants and actually do something useful!? I’d have made it out of here on my own if it weren’t for you! Why did you bother coming!?”

“WHAT!?”

The stem finally lost its grip.

Both of them tumbled and rolled and did not, against Lily’s own expectations, fall into the cracked hole she’d made earlier. Instead, the leaves and petals and stamens and thorns and other planty things stuck to their coats and the colours flashed by and they belly-flopped to a stop, Lily wincing as Daisy thumped on top of her.

The breeze. The distant laughter. No other sounds.

They poked their heads out.

Not a sign that the killer plant had ever been there. No holes. Not even any cracks. Nothing. Just the memory as they’d found it.

Lily pushed Daisy off and shot to her hooves. “So!”

Daisy gulped and crept backwards. Her eyes were wide. Her mouth a small dot.

“So!” said Lily again, because she hadn’t been mad enough the first time.

“I’m sorry,” Daisy blurted out.

“Those thoughts I was hearing weren’t mine. They were yours, aimed at me. Weren’t they?”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Daisy contrived to make herself look as small as possible. “It was just… stress. I’d never say that about you.”

“But you’d think it. Wouldn’t you? Didn’t you? This is your head.”

“I’m sorry. Please. Lily…”

Around them, the memory faded. Darkness returned. Their legs were cold and tight with the wading water again. Sundews lurked over their heads and surrounded their little circle.

In this new environment, Daisy was submerged up to her muzzle like a filly caught in a pool.

Lily stuck out her jaw to emphasize that “sorry” was not going to shift it.

With a sigh, Daisy straightened up again. Soaked through, she shone where she stood. Her face softened.

“I was just frustrated,” she said. “You know I’d never really want to get rid of you.”

“Lies,” spat Lily. “Nothing but sweet, sweet lies. Well, now the truth comes out, doesn’t it? I’ll bet that plant thing was only following your orders. In a dream. Your dream, to be precise.”

She turned her back in a huff. Not helping matters was the fact that they were back at square one again, or whatever passed for square one when she was knee-deep in slimy algae-infested swampland. At least the memory had been different. And colourful. And nice.

Behind her, speaking almost to a whisper, Daisy said, “I don’t know what’s going on anymore. I was stupid. Lily, I’m sorry.”

“Hmph,” said Lily.

“Please forgive me.”

“Words, words, words. Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Silence.

Lily said, “Well?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t know.”

Groaning, Lily rounded on her again. “And don’t act like this is a one-time thing. Deep down, you think you’d be better off without me, don’t you? I’ve always known it. OK, technically I suspected it, but you didn’t exactly hide it all that well.”

Daisy’s lip trembled. She shut her eyes tight.

Seeing this, Lily pushed some of the anger aside, and the memory briefly surfaced through the bubbling waters. Daisy had called it perfect, that day on the meadow, when she’d even broken down halfway through. Mind, she’d been on the verge of tears a lot back then.

Lily screwed up her mouth. Roseluck always said arguing didn’t get them anywhere.

“I’m still mad at you,” she said, before saying more softly, “but we’ve got bigger problems right now. Let’s… just… focus on getting out of here, all right?” The sundews loomed over her. “Again.”

“I really am sorry –”

“Forget it. Just trust me next time, OK?”

Daisy sniffed and nodded. “OK.”

Once more, Lily trudged through the green water, wishing she didn’t have to listen to the occasional sniff behind her, and wishing the sundews didn’t keep brushing against her coat. She’d almost forgotten already how soft and gentle the meadow had felt on her flanks.

“Lily,” said Daisy through a tight windpipe, “I would never wish anything like that on you. Ever.”

“Who else did, then? That pretty little white patch you were playing merrily with?”

“I only wanted you to stop being so – I’m sorry. Forget I said anything. You must think I’m awful.”

Lily couldn’t stay mad forever, if only because the only long-lasting emotion she’d known had been a few happy days as a child watching butterflies in the air, followed closely by the recurring fearful bouts of butterflies in her stomach. Anger didn't fare very well whenever she tried it. Anyway, it was probably a bad move to upset Daisy in her own dream.

“Hey,” Lily said, trying to sound at least civil. “I came here for you, didn’t I? Pain in the neck that you are.”

“I swear I’d never –”

“Look, let’s just get out of here first, and then we can talk about this. Got it?”

Quietly, Daisy said, “Yes.”

They waded on. To keep herself going, Lily recalled the tumble and laughter of the fields, but her memory faded and she ended up cursing the sundews again. Daisy kept silent behind her for a long time.

The swamp was endless this time.

Great, she thought miserably. Just great.

---

Comments

[Whinifree]

Ahh. The insecurities of one spreading to another. Kind of like the psychiatric phenomenon known as folix a dues (spelling). In the context of the story, Daisy’s first glimpse of her own problems affecting her friends by causing them undue worry, now coupled with the guilt of her friend Lily being trapped in her dream with her. Looking forward to more.

[Impossible Numbers]

8793786

I don't think it technically qualifies as folie à deux, since that's mainly about sharing delusions, whereas this is more a case of strong emotional contagion (and Lily - thanks to being a suspicious and paranoid pony - works out quite quickly that these thoughts aren't hers, and so doesn't believe their content). But you're in the same ballpark, at least, especially regarding how Daisy's becoming aware of her own negative influence on her friends.

Glad to see you're enjoying the story, and more is on the way. There might be a slight delay before the next chapter, but it'll arrive soon enough.

[Whinifree]

8794255
Hey don’t worry about speed of release. Not like you’re getting paid for it. I’m not one with right to complain given it took me three years to finish the first act of my own adventure/mystery epic. (I seriously chose the worst possible time in life to start it: college)

[Impossible Numbers]

8794264

I find getting education out of your system clears the mind wonderfully.

No sweat. The story is mostly already written, barring a few scenes near the end, so it's chiefly editing duties at this point. I'm not rushing the project, or anything like that. I've already learned that lesson, don't you worry!

[Impossible Numbers]

PLEASE NOTE: Thanks to xgfhj, a severe plothole has come to my attention: under the current chronology of events, Daisy would realistically starve from being asleep so long without water or food.

This is a severe enough problem that I have sought to remedy it thus; as a temporary measure, Doc and Roseluck eventually agree to arrange a nasogastric tube as a convenient feeding device, regularly topped up (and justified by Doc's interest in medicine and Roseluck's reluctant interest in his hobbies in turn).

For those keeping pace with the story, I have now added extra details to the following chapters:

Just Not the Doc You Ordered
When the Flower Sleeps
We Shall Not Sit Idly By
Diagnosis
A Perfect Meadow, Full of Laughter

Basically, every instance includes the word "nasogastric", so anyone wanting to check can use ctrl+f to track the additional material down.

Apart from additions to (and minor modifications of) neighbouring parts of the text, nothing else has been edited. Indeed, the point of the edit was to disrupt the main story as little as possible.

Thank you for your time, and I'm working on the rest of the story as we speak. This has been an Impossible Numbers public update. Goodbye for now!

[redmar]

Daisy is wrong to blame Lily for not escaping but Lily shouldn't jump to conclusions since dreams can be very weird. It's clear that Daisy feels guilty about what she thought about her friends and that bottling up her feelings is part of the problem.