It's a Kind of Magic

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Don't Stop Me Now

Rainbow Dash stared at the smoldering ruins of a soaked building for the second time that day. Beside her, Lyra gawped at the remains of her home, disbelieving the evidence of her own eyes. Bonbon was busy explaining everything to the royal guard, who had shown up not long after Sugarcube Corner went up in smoke. “I-- I can’t believe it,” Lyra said, still in shock. “Who would-- who could do all this?”

Rainbow Dash bit her tongue to keep back her immediate response. She had regretted accusing Trixie the minute she’d said it. The look Spike had given her had made her want to sink into the earth. “I dunno,” she said instead. “What did Bonbon say caused the explosion? A ruse with some sauce?”

“A roux thauthe,” Twist corrected. “Thimple, but nithe and creamy.”

“Uh, yeah, that.” Dash nodded. “I dunno, maybe she mixed in something she shouldn’t have.”

Lyra wavered. “Maybe,” she said doubtfully. “I dunno, though, she’s usually really good about keeping explosives out of the kitchen.”

“Wait, what? Why does she just have explosives sitting around?”

Lyra’s eyes darted away. “Reasons. Anyway, I’m just glad she wasn’t hurt. And I’m glad you’re okay too, munchkin.”

She pulled Twist into a great snuggling hug and Dash looked away. She’d almost said it. Dammit. Trixie was just such a tempting target, the easiest and most available scapegoat. She hadn’t been thinking back at Sugarcube Corner. She’d just let her mouth run away with her, and right after she’d said she’d be Trixie’s friend, too. Dammit. How easy would it have been to blame Starlight not too long ago? How easy would it have been if it was Gilda, back before they’d started patching things up again? How easy would have been to blame Dash herself, just a prank gone really, really wrong? DAMMIT.

Dash kicked a rock and watched it skitter along the road. One of the royal guards glanced up at the noise, but she just glared until he turned away again. She was just so stupid sometimes.

“Hey.”

Dash looked up. Pinkie looked back at her, unusually subdued. Mac stood behind the pink pony, glancing around in confusion. Hadn’t they just been at Trixie’s wagon a second ago? Best not to question the Pie, Mac decided, then sat down to rest against the fence.

“Hi, Pinkie,” Dash said. “How’re you?”

Pinkie snorted. “Let’s just say I’ve had better days,” she sighed. “The twins are safe, though, and the doctors said that Mr. and Mrs. Cake are gonna be okie-dokie soon enough. So that’s all good. And Twilight’s set up a room for me at her castle, and she and Spike are setting up another room for Lyra and Bonnie and Twist. So that should be fun! We can have a sleepover and have pillow fights and tell spoooooky stories and stuff! But--”

She looked at the burnt house and her mane started to go flat. “Somepony is doing this on purpose,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” said Dash.

Pinkie’s head whipped around. “And it can’t have been Trixie.”

“No,” said Dash.

“I think somepony owes somepony else an apology.”

“Did she apologize for anything she ever did?”

“Well, she’s trying to,” Pinkie pointed out.

Dash didn’t have an answer for that. She grunted instead.

“And she did save us from--”

“I know she saved us from the changelings!” Dash shouted, squeezing her eyes shut tight. “I know what she did, and I’m glad she did! But that doesn’t mean I have to like her! It doesn’t mean I have to forgive her for all the stunts she pulled before! It doesn’t mean she doesn’t get up my nose whenever I see her, and it doesn’t mean she didn’t almost destroy Ponyville! Twice!”

Pinkie looked taken aback, and before she could reply, Dash was gone again. Pinkie watched her friend soar, and her withers slumped. Mac patted her on the back. “It’ll all turn out alright, Miz Pie. You’ll see.”

Pinkie nodded. “I know it will,” she said, subdued. “But right now?” She sighed, and lapsed into a rare silence.

After a minute, she rose again. “C’mon. We’ve still got a wagon to move.”

***

Trixie tried to help set up the guest room as best she could. Of course, she hadn’t seen a guest room since she’d left home, and hadn’t used one in even longer than that. She was therefore relegated to fetching out blankets from the linen closet at the end of the hall. At least her fellow workers were being nice about it. Applejack had softened a lot after the whole ‘soul-baring’ thing.

Trixie hated it. Or, well, not hated, exactly. She liked it. She liked it a lot, really. But now that Applejack didn’t hate her, it was a lot harder to keep hating Ponyville. It wasn’t just Applejack, either. It was Twilight, too, and Pinkie, and the nurse, and Spike, and everypony else who had decided that she deserved forgiveness once again.

She would leave Ponyville for Canterlot as soon as the wagon was out of the mud and she was fully recovered. She had promised it to herself. She had promised it out loud, too, and she couldn’t be seen going back on her promises.

Was that Amulet talk, too? She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything right now. She hated that.

“Uh, Trixie?”

Trixie grunted and looked up. Twilight looked back at her, concerned. “I think we’ve got enough blankets,” she said carefully.

Trixie blinked, only just now registering the enormous mountain of sheets and quilts that she’d piled next to the guest room’s door. “Oh. Oops.”

Twilight smiled. “That’s alright. Leave them out. We can all build a blanket fort later on. I heard Pinkie say she wanted to turn this into a sleepover anyhow, so that should be just perfect.”

Spike poked his head out of the room. “Will this be a mares-only event, or can a certain charming dragon finagle his way in?”

Twilight smiled. “Of course you can, Spike. But I thought you were going back over to Rarity’s tonight?”

Spike winced. “Uh, I decided to take a little rain check on that. Totally unrelated note, can Sweetie Belle come over, too? The Carousel Boutique is…” he trailed off. “Not prime habitation at present,” he concluded delicately.

Twilight frowned. “Don’t tell me it’s exploded as well.”

Spike rubbed at his horns nervously. “In a manner of speaking. Carrot Top went over there awhile ago.”

Applejack frowned. “Ah thought they hated one another’s guts,” she said shortly.

“Oh, they do,” Spike assured her. “But, well… they found some common ground. Or neutral territory, if you like.”

***

Rarity stared across the table intently. Her mane was an absolute wreck. She had split ends everywhere, and no less than forty hairs out of place! That wasn’t even beginning to examine her tail. She shuddered to think of it.

Across from her, Carrot stared back, just as intense. “So, you want Trixie gone too,” she said.

“Naturally,” Rarity said. “I respect Twilight as a friend, and she may have what guests she pleases, but I cannot in good conscience allow--”

“Sure, fine, whatever,” Carrot growled. “I got a plan, but I can’t do it alone. Trouble is, there’s not a lot of ponies in town who like me that much.”

Surprise, surprise, Rarity thought bitterly. Carrot had all the refinement of Rainbow Dash, all the eloquence of Applejack, and all the good cheer of a hive of wasps.

“You, though. Ponies like you. They listen to you.”

“That is true,” Rarity preened.

“So you’ve gotta tell them first, and then I’ll back you up,” Carrot said, her eyes practically glowing with the fires of Tartarus. “You gotta remind them about Trixie, all the trouble she causes.”

Rarity nodded. “I turn the opinion of the crowd, then you incite them to act,” she said. “I understand completely.”

“For the good of the children,” Carrot said.

“For the good of all Ponyville,” Rarity corrected.

Carrot spat on her hoof and extended it. Rarity recoiled, all but falling off her chair. Carrot glowered at the insult, but extended her other hoof instead. They shook on it. Before tomorrow's first light, Ponyville would see its first true riot.

***

The explosions were growing steadily more common, but that didn’t make them any easier to deal with. Rainbow had ordered Thunderlane and Bulk Biceps to bring back extra clouds from the weather factory, even given them a note to show the workers there. Then, she gave them another note that would get them an audience with Princess Celestia if things got really out of hoof. After Lyra and Bonbon’s house, the next to be demolished had been Caramel’s place, right next to Carousel Boutique. Rainbow had seen Rarity watching from the cupola at the top of her shop, lips pursed tightly. His house had been the least damaged yet. Only the kitchen had been singed, and Caramel had been taken to the hospital for minor burns.

Almost immediately after that, Sweet Apple Acres had been the next under attack. The house had been badly wounded, but luckily, nopony had been inside-- the only one on the farm had been Granny Smith, and she had been out feeding the chickens when the old cast-iron stove went up like a Romane candle, taking her apple turnovers, the kitchen, and a good chunk of the upstairs bathroom with it.

Applejack had made Granny go to the hospital anyway, just in case of shock. In the end, Redheart and Coldheart had decided to sedate Applejack instead, to keep her from getting into an even bigger tizzy. That had been hard for Dash to watch. Even harder had been seeing Ponyville’s local bar, the Stick and Carrot go up in flames. The landlady, Berry Punch, and her daughter had made it out safely, but the same couldn’t be said for the shepherd’s pies she’d had in the oven, or the shelf of liquors behind the bar. Dash had almost cried at that. After a day like today, she needed to get hammered, asap.

The worst had been seeing Ditzy Doo’s half-conscious, ash-covered form being dragged out on a stretcher. It was never a good sign seeing those golden eyes aligned. More painful still had been the sight of Ditzy’s daughter, Dinky, being pulled off her mother like a leech by the paramedics. “This isn’t right!” the filly howled. “This would never have happened if Trixie wasn’t back! I hate her! I hate all of you!”

Dash had flown away then. She desperately wanted to go home. She still had a bottle of three-precipitation vodka somewhere. She’d gotten it five years ago and never drank it because it tasted disgusting. Right now, though, she’d take whatever could wash the bad taste out of her mouth and the guilty memories out of her mind. Maybe she could contact the Wonderbolts, call in a few favors owed. But then there was another explosion, and without even thinking, she was already beating her ever more tired wings against the polluted, smoke-stinking air toward the next explosion.

***

The mayor had called a town-wide meeting. Attendance was optional, in the same way that staring at a forest fire is optional. Ponyville was terrified, but at the same time, they just couldn’t bring themselves to look away. If a citizen wasn’t packed in like a sardine at the town hall, it was a safe bet that they were at the hospital instead.

Mayor Ivory Scroll peered out at the crowd over the podium. She wiped away a bead of sweat under the guise of adjusting her half-moon spectacles. She couldn’t let them see how nervous she was. The fear of a politician was an instant signal to panic, and in a town like Ponyville, that could easily turn a bad situation into a catastrophic one. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t heading in that direction to begin with. Nevertheless, she was the mayor. It was her job to maintain order and law in this town, as futile as that often seemed. So she set her jaw and leaned into the microphone. “Good evening.”

The murmur of the crowd died away slowly. The mayor looked around the crowd. There seemed to be a few extremely calm ponies in the crowd, offset by the number of furious ones. Most of the crowd just seemed to be on edge-- not yet given over to fear completely, but teetering on the precipice. “As I’m sure you are all aware, Ponyville has become the playground for some kind of serial arsonist. However, let me begin by dispelling the worst of your fears. No ponies have died. All who were injured are expected to make a full recovery, and all property damage is being covered by the crown under the Everfree Protection Charter. If your home was damaged, Princess Twilight has offered the use of her castle until such time as your property is habitable again.”

Some of the tension oozed away. The mayor took in a deep breath. “Now for the bad news. The arsonist has not yet been caught, nor have the royal guard found any leads. Of course, they haven’t finished searching all of the explosion sites yet, so some clue may yet turn up.”

A low, discontented muttering rose up. The mayor cleared her throat. “However,” she continued forcefully. “A team of…” she glanced over to where Twilight Sparkle and Big Macintosh were standing proudly by a large posterboard. Mac had replaced his yoke with a rather tweedy bow tie. “A team of royal analysts have also examined the sites, and reached some interesting conclusions. Your highness?”

Twilight stepped out on stage. Big Mac carried out the posterboard behind her. “Thank you, madame Mayor,” she said, levitating over a microphone of her own. “We have learned that all the explosions have been centered around the kitchen of the affected residences. To be precise, they were centered on the oven or stove. For your own safety, I urge you to keep any use of these appliances to a minimum until the arsonist or arsonists has been safely caught.”

There was a discontented murmuring from the crowd, but Twilight refused to be cowed. “Are there any questions? Yes, Vinyl Scratch.”

The unicorn put down her hoof. “If we can’t use our ovens, what are we gonna eat?” she asked.

Twilight paused. “...Salad?” she suggested. “Sandwiches?”

“Cold cereal,” the mayor said.

“Apples,” Mac suggested.

“You could make toast. I haven’t seen any exploding toasters,” Twilight said.

Vinyl nodded and sat back down.

“Other questions… Lily?”

The blonde mare pulled back her hoof as though it had been burned, falling back with a squeak. Twilight blinked. “Uh, didn’t quite catch that.”

Lily’s sister, Rose, rose. “She said, ‘You said “arsonist or arsonists.” Does that mean you think there might be more than one?’”

A low murmur ripped through the crowd and Twilight held up a hoof for silence. “That is a distinct possibility,” she said. “One that can neither be proven nor discounted. It would account for certain points, such as how quickly the explosions occurred and why there was no one pony present at each targeted location. However, it fails to explain how the arsonist was able to gain access to all the targets without being noticed. For now, we’re working on the assumption that there is one arsonist only, but we’re also open to the idea that there may be more."

This completely failed to resettle the crowd. Twilight shot a nervous glance at the mayor, who was shaking her head rapidly. The princess looked around for another question, somepony who she could count on for a softball. “Rarity!” she said in relief. “Everypony please quiet down, we still have some more audience questions.”

“Oh, this isn’t just a question, darling,” Rarity said, rising to her hooves. “It’s a solution.”

Twilight frowned. “Oh, really?”

“Yes.” Rarity looked up at Twilight and met her gaze squarely. “Why don’t you just take Trixie into custody?”

***

Spike swirled his tea around his cup thoughtfully. “How many lumps?” he asked.

Trixie took a sip of her drink and pulled a face. “How many have you got?”

“Not a big fan of peppermint tea?”

“Trixie prefers cocoa. Or lemonade.” She paused. “But watching you boil the kettle with your nose was cool.”

“I aim to please,” Spike said, grinning.

Trixie took several tea cakes off the plate between them and popped them in her mouth one by one. “Pho, hphw du phink da meephins goern?”

Spike grimaced at the crumbs that had fallen all over the nice, clean floor. “I hope you know you’re cleaning that up. Say that again, without your mouth full.”

Trixie rolled her eyes, but swallowed the cakes. “So, how do you think the meeting’s going?” she repeated.

Spike shrugged. “Dunno. The mayor’s pretty good at calming down the crowds, and Twilight’s got the safety advice she and Mac cooked up. I’ll bet things should get a lot calmer pretty quick here.”

There was a sudden flash of light in the middle of the kitchen, and suddenly Twilight, Mac, and the mayor were all standing at the counter, breathing heavily. The safety poster was tattered, and the mayor’s glasses hung askew. Twilight gave a loopy grin. “So, uh, Trixie. You remember what you were saying about an angry mob?”

Trixie glared at Spike. “Do yourself a favor, and never go to Las Pegasus.”

“Noted,” Spike said.

***

Spike was the one delegated to deal with the mob, if mob was the word for it. It wasn’t, really. It was just a herd of loud, confused, frightened ponies, who just wanted their questions answered. As Spike was good at both dealing with complicated questions and intimidating ponies into submission by his presence alone, he was the natural choice. The rest of them stayed in the kitchen. Trixie couldn’t find it in her to face the crowd just now, and the other three all felt they deserved a cup of tea and a biscuit after being swarmed like that. “I just don’t know why Rarity would do something like that,” Twilight said mournfully. “She knows how to work a crowd. She could’ve made things go so much easier, and instead…”

“Well, we all make mistakes,” the mayor said, pouring a soupcon of cream into her tea.

Trixie winced and looked away. “Trixie thinks the shouting is starting to die down,” she said.

Twilight nodded. “I’ll go and help Spike disperse the crowd,” she said, rising from her seat.

It was odd. Less than a day ago, and Trixie would have been overjoyed to see Sparkle-- Twilight-- leaving the room. Now, she felt she would do anything for her to come back and save her from having to talk to these two. What do you even say to the mayor of a small town after locking her in a birdcage and taking her lands by force? “So,” said Trixie. “Would you like to pick a card at all?”

The mayor looked at her, somewhere between amused and confused. After a moment, she decided on the former. “Have you got a deck?”

“I-- well--” Trixie paused, stymied. “Give Trixie a moment. She is not always at her sharpest right she has eaten. And with Rarity apparently leading a mob against her…” She snorted. “It amazes Trixie how much debate goes on without consulting her. Think of a card.”

“Beg pardon?” the mayor asked.

“Think of a deck of cards. Let it form in the black recesses of your mind-- wait! Count the cards, make sure they’re all there.”

The mayor gave her an odd look, but did as she was bidden. “Pick one out,” Trixie said simply. “Do not tell Trixie what it is. Now, put it back in the deck.”

The mayor chuckled. “All right. I don’t suppose there’s a way we could play gin with this imaginary deck.”

“In the mind’s eye, all things are possible,” Trixie said mysteriously. “Eight of diamonds.”

There was a moment of absolute silence. The mayor fumbled for words. “I-- how did you--”

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” Trixie replied smoothly.

Mac chuckled. “Ah bet Ah know.” He tapped his ears. “Ah’m a real good listener.”

The mayor frowned. “I don’t see--”

“She put th’ thought in yer head,” Mac explained. “Sayin’ all that stuff about Miz Rarity, an’ bein’ sharp, an’ black recesses-- all that’s about diamonds. An’ th’ eight, she said all that ‘bout debate, an’ wait, an’ she jus’ ate. Am Ah right, Miz Lulamoon?”

Trixie smirked. “Trixie could tell you, but then the Magic Circle would make us both disappear.”

The mayor smiled. “Well, that certainly is impressive, no matter how it was done. I don’t suppose you’ve ever considered becoming a speech writer?”

There was a precipitous moment. Another pony who cared about her. Who liked her. Another anchor keeping her tied to this burg. “Trixie will not be needing a job in Ponyville. She intends to travel on to Canterlot later this week.”

“I see,” said the mayor. “Well, I wish you good luck on your travels.” She glanced up. “I do believe the crowd has gone. I should head back to town hall myself. Good afternoon, Macintosh. Miss Lulamoon.”

“Trixie prefers to be called Trixie,” Trixie said, but the older mare had already gone.

Mac looked at her. His gaze had some kind of strange gravity to it, and before Trixie even realized it, she was meeting his gaze. “What?” she demanded.

“Don’t like usin’ yer family name?” he enquired.

“No, Trixie does not,” Trixie said, tearing her eyes away. “Her family is exactly what Trixie tried to leave behind when she went on the road.”

“Hm,” said Mac.

“And you can spare Trixie your down-home platitudes about family being the most important thing, or always forgiving them, or how they always love you,” Trixie spat. “Trixie showed your sister what they did to me, and she changed her tune pretty quick.”

Mac chewed on a biscuit, not commenting on the shift in pronouns.

Apparently, silence wasn’t enough for Trixie. She pushed back part of her coat to reveal scarred skin beneath. “This is Trixie’s family legacy,” she said. “All she will ever take of it. All the gold and prestige can get jumped for all Trixie cares!”

Mac swallowed the biscuit. “Was jus’ gonna say, you only tried leavin’ ‘em behind?”

“Uh--” Trixie stopped dead. “Pardon. A slip of the tongue,” she said.

“Mhm,” Mac nodded. “They don’t sound like nice folk, yer kin.”

“Not nice folk? Not nice folk?” Trixie snorted. “You have a gift for understatement.”

“Tell me about ‘em,” Mac said, and he was so calm, so quiet, that Trixie did just that. She poured out the same story she’d given Twilight just the night before.

When she’d finished. Mac nodded his heavy head. “Alright. Now tell me ‘bout yer family.”

Trixie stared at him blankly. “Trixie just-- Did Trixie not just do that? Have you short-term memory loss? Deafness? Some sort of, of, Trixie doesn’t even know?”

Mac snorted. “Nope.”

Trixie frowned. “In that case, Trixie is really not following you, here.”

“Ya told me ‘bout yer kin,” Mac expounded. “Yer blood, if ya like. They don’t sound much like family t’me.”

Trixie’s frown twisted into a scowl. “Oh, and Trixie supposes that the real family was the friends she made along the way? The ponies who supported her instead of tearing her down? Those who actually loved her?”

Mac considered this. “Pret’ much, yeah.”

“Well, maybe Trixie doesn’t have any family,” she said, voice cold. She turned to glare meaningfully and broodingly at the wall. “Where were they when Trixie was at her lowest ebb? Where were they when she had just been freed of the Amulet’s grasp? Anyway, blood is thicker than water. Trixie is of house Lulamoon, regardless of how little she likes it.”

Mac pushed back his chair and rose to leave. “Iffin ya say so,” he said. “But Ah reckon ya got a little family, somewhere. Starlight Glimmer, fer sure, an’ maybe his Highness King Thorax, an’ Discord. An’ Ah heard tell ‘bout yer time on th’ Pie family rock farm, too.”

A smile traced Trixie’s lips for an instant. “Igneous and Cloudy aren’t quite as stern as they act, you know.”

“Ah know. Pinkie tol’ us Apples that we were kin to her family anyhow, so Ah reckon you an’ me are related somehow.”

Trixie sat in stony silence, the brief smile all but evaporated. Mac sighed. “‘Blood is thicker’n water,’” he said. “Nopony ever says the full thing. ‘Th’ blood of the covenant is thicker’n th’ waters of the womb.’ You build yer own family.”

“Trixie would prefer you not mention blood and covenants to her again,” Trixie said. “She had enough of that from her brother.”
Mac lowered his great head and nodded before trotting out of the room. Trixie stared at the wall for a while longer, deep in thought.

Comments

[PonyPuffy 2012]

Rarity is being both a bitch and a hypocrite, or did she conveniently forget about the time she went around redecorating everything and everypony against their will duo to a cursed book's influence. Hopefully some one sets both her and Rainbow straight soon.

[Sixes_And_Sevens]

9000030
I think Rainbow may be setting herself straight, even if she's not all the way there yet. As for Rarity... well, it's easier to see the bad in others than in yourself. That's part of what I'm trying to illustrate, and your comment shows me that I'm on the right track for doing just that. Thank you!

[Arkonfleight]

Before tomorrow's first light, Ponyville would see its first true riot.

I'll buy that the smarty pants incident doesn't count, but this I do not believe.
Surely the apple/pear feud boiled over at some point or something.