> Dead-Eye Darling
>  by totallynotabrony
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


DEAD-EYE DARLING




The sun had passed its noontime high and was starting to swing towards the western horizon.  The town of Roswell was usually quiet, save for a train that steamed through a few times per week.  Today, however, there was a feeling of entertainment in the air.  The townsfolk had all braved the late afternoon sun to gather in the center of town.  There was going to be a hanging.

Frank stood on the gallows, the noose slightly less than snug on his neck. The rope that bound his hands was tighter.  No man ever started out in life intending to be hanged, and if he had the time to spare it would be prudent to think over the the things that had happened to get him into this position.

The sun was in his eyes.  Frank squinted in the glare, barely able to see the crowd that had gathered to see him punished.  If he was actually guilty, he might have taken solace in the fact that people actually cared enough to come see him.  Instead, it was just disturbing.

“This man was tried for murder,” the local sheriff announced from his place to Frank’s left.  “Death was the sentence given to the accused.”

“I have a name, you know,” Frank muttered.  It seemed that no one heard him.

The town preacher approached from his right.  “Have you made your peace with God?”

“As much as I can, I suppose.”  Frank didn’t look at the man, still trying to see through the glare of the setting sun.

The minister did not want to delay things further and retreated to the edge of the platform, signaling that the accused was as ready as he was going to be.  A hood could not be found, so Frank would not be surprised when the moment of execution came.  He swallowed hard, what might be his last opportunity to do so before the rope went tight.

There was a faint sound of running hoofbeats, growing louder as they came closer.  The crowd heard, but none of them wanted to miss the big moment.  Every eye was on the sheriff as he reached for the lever that worked the gallows’ trap door.

Frank felt his feet begin to drop.  His entire body went tense, just as the noose also tightened.  He involuntarily squeezed his eyes shut.  In the next instant a gunshot rang out, the bullet whizzing over his head and tugging at the noose.

There was a shout from the crowd and Frank landed hard in an upright position, the severed rope flopping down on him.  He almost fell forward, as the saddle he had come to rest on was moving rapidly away from the gallows.

Frank opened his eyes.  Every person who had come to see him hanged was staring in astonishment as he made his getaway.  He could see them because he’d landed backwards in the saddle.  Below, hooves continued to churn, carrying him away.

He wasn’t out of trouble yet, but the time it would take for the sheriff to mount a posse would give him a good head start.

“That was some very good timing, Rarity.”  Frank turned his head, addressing his rescuer.

“Of course, darling,” replied the pony carrying him.  She panted slightly with the effort of running, but managed to spare him a glance, winking one of her large blue eyes.

Frank continued to watch the back trail as Rarity charted a course for the scattered arroyos outside of town.  Once in the maze of narrow canyons, it would be much more difficult to pursue the two of them.

All things considered, however, the misguided townsfolk were not actually the most dangerous thing that Frank and Rarity had to face.  He asked,  “Do you have the guns?”

Rarity snorted, but replied, “I do.”

Frank twisted his body, managing to right himself in the saddle.  He spotted a pair of holsters hanging from the pommel and a rifle scabbard down one side. The saddle bags contained another pistol, its holster, and some supplies.  Frank found a small penknife and began cutting at the ropes that tied his hands.  As he got himself free, he grabbed the spare gun and belted it on.

The pace slowed somewhat as they dipped into the arroyos, the sand making the going tougher.  Rarity was breathing hard by now, sweat and dust coating her flanks.  “When I get home to Equestria, it’s going to take days at the spa before I’m clean again!”

Frank grunted, having heard too many similar complaints from the mare already.  “Before that, we still have a job to do.”

Rarity sighed as she trotted along.  “Yes, I haven’t forgotten.  We need to find this criminal gang and make them give back what they took.”

Nodding, Frank agreed, “And this time, we’ll be ready.”






> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

One week earlier...




Somepony knocked on the door of the boutique, distracting Rarity from her work.  She turned her head to the sound while carefully monitoring the position of the scissors she held in her magic.  “Come in!”

The door opened and a purple mare came in.  “Good afternoon, Rarity.  I was hoping you could keep something for me.”

“Certainly, Twilight.”  Rarity smiled and put down her work for the moment.  “What can I help you with?”

The other pony opened her saddlebags and took out a finely cut diamond.  While Rarity was no scholar of magic, even she could feel a slight pulse of energy that emanated from the stone.  The facets of the gem seemed to glow with an inner light.  It was also one of the largest examples of its kind that Rarity had ever seen.

“This is a little something I’ve been working on,” the purple pony explained.  “If it goes right, it should enable teleportation capability over long distances for anypony.  There are still a few quirks, though.  So far, I’ve only managed to get it to work with unicorns, and the process is still too unstable to be reliable.”

“It’s a fabulous diamond,” Rarity gushed.

“That’s part of why I wanted you to keep it.  I know you have an iron safe for valuables and I was hoping I could leave it there.  I’m going on a trip soon, and I don’t need this experiment causing trouble while I’m gone.”

Rarity managed to pull her attention away from the gem.  “Well, if you’re so insistent, then I should ask: is it dangerous?”

“No, nothing like that.”  Rarity’s guest waved a hoof.  “It just has the disturbing tendency to teleport you on the whims of stray thought.  Just don’t stare at it and you’ll be fine.”

“It’s hard not to look at such a pretty diamond, but I think I understand.”  Rarity nodded.  “I’ll keep it safe for you.”

“Thanks a lot, Rarity.”

“Where are you going?” Rarity asked, taking the diamond and placing it on the table beside her.

“Not far.  The trip should take no more than a few days.”

Rarity smiled.  “Well, I’ll see you then.  Have a good time.”

“See you when I get back.”

Rarity waved as her visitor departed.  She turned around, not seeing the pony who looked like her friend Twilight put on an evil grin and slink away.

Avoiding looking at the diamond too much, Rarity picked it up and headed to the storeroom at the back of her shop.  There, behind a portrait on the wall, was a safe with a combination lock.

She twiddled in the numbers and opened the door.  The safe already contained several objects of great value.  A few unique gems and pieces of jewelry were carefully laid inside.  At the bottom of the lockbox was a mint condition Cowboys issue #1 comic book.  To her friend Spike, at least, it held great value. 

Rarity glanced at the comic, still slightly off-put by how out of place it was in the safe.  Colored pictures about aliens going about their daily lives on some strange planet where ponies were work animals did not strike her as ideal reading material for young Spike.  Especially not the parts that were violent.

Rarity shook her head, glancing at the cover of the comic again.  She had to admit, the wide open vistas and terrain did seem rather scenic, almost like western Equestria.

There was a blink of light from the corner of Rarity’s eye.  She shifted her gaze sideways, catching sight of the teleportation gem glowing brightly.  It flashed again, brighter this time.  Her brows furrowed.  What was—?

In the next instant the gem, and Rarity, were gone.

Meanwhile, on a different planet, Frank was not having a good day.  He was out of a job, short on money, lost somewhere in west Texas, his horse was dead, and the same gun that had killed her was pressed to the back of his skull.

“And you’re sure that’s all you have?” asked the man holding the weapon.

Frank kept his hands raised and his eyes on the ground.  “Hell, I’m so broke that I might actually come out of this robbery ahead.”

He half expected the pistol whip that he received for that remark.  It was not a bone-cracking blow, merely enough to knock Frank on his face.  He rolled over slowly, staring up at Teal Jack Smith, who was still pointing a six-shooter at him.

“I don’t like your attitude,” said Teal Jack.  “But you sure are one broke son of a bitch.  Just lay there for a few more minutes if you know what’s good for you.”  He and the four men in his gang got back on their horses.  Frank sighed heavily.  They weren’t going to kill him, but that barely made him any happier.  What little money and valuables he’d had, they’d taken.

Teal Jack holstered his gun and tipped his namesake hat to Frank.  Rumor was he’d stolen it from some sort of fancy circus show back east, hence its vivid color.  Turning his horse, Teal Jack led his gang away, their mounts stirring up a cloud of dust.

Before they got far, however, there was a blinding flash of light accompanied by an ear-piercing scream.  Despite what he had been ordered, Frank jerked upright and stared in shock as a white horse and a huge diamond appeared out of thin air only a few feet from him.

Teal Jack had seen it, too.  Wheeling his steed, he charged back.  The pale creature that had just materialized jumped back in fear and a shot of blue light knocked Teal Jack out of his saddle.

He hit the ground, dazed but seemingly unhurt as his hat went flying.  Frank kicked backwards across the ground, wanting no part of this hocus pocus.  Teal Jack shook his head, and spotted the diamond inches from his hand.  Grabbing it up and not pausing to retrieve his distinctive hat, Teal Jack jumped back on his horse and spurred it hard, casting a fearful glance over his shoulder at the creature the diamond had arrived simultaneously with.  Frank curled into a ball as the horse leaped over him and galloped off down the trail with the other bandits in pursuit.

As the hoofbeats faded, Frank slowly looked up and started to right himself.  There was dust all over him.  Glancing back, he finally got a long look at the mysterious arrival.  It looked like a horse – a short one.  A pony, then, but still tall enough to ride.  The eyes were large and blue, framed with thick dark lashes.  The mane and tail were curled much as a fancy woman would, and somehow, royal purple.  The strangest part was probably the horn attached to the pony’s forehead.  While Frank had never spent much time in school during his youth, stories and legends found their way around the west and he recognized a unicorn when he saw one.

Actually, the strangest part, as the unicorn looked with horror at Frank’s dead horse, the missing diamond, and the dirt everywhere, was that she expressed herself with a recognizable female voice.

“This is the worst possible thing!”

Frank got up slowly, keeping his eyes on the white pony.  She continued to fret, stamping her hooves worriedly.  He took a few steps in her direction and cleared his throat.  “Uh, miss?”

She jerked her head in his direction, the curls in her mane bouncing.  “Yes?  What do you want?” she snapped.

“I, uh..”  Frank looked at the ground and scuffed some dirt with his boots.  “What just happened?”

“I was the victim of a terrible misfortune!”  She swooned, putting a hoof to her forehead.  Frank’s eyes widened.  Equine joints were not supposed to bend that way.

“Unstable magic was responsible for this.”  She swept a hoof around.  “Bringing me to this barren wasteland, the hot weather, the dirt!”

Frank shook his head.  “I’m sorry, did you say magic?”

The mare paused in her rant, stopping to stare at Frank for a moment.  “I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that you didn’t have anything like that here.”

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments while the two of them stared at each other.  Shifting uncomfortably, the unicorn politely said, “I suppose I should introduce myself.  My name is Rarity.  And you are?”

“Frank.”

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Frank.  Can you tell me where I am?”

Frank considered that for a moment and pointed to the east.  “I think the nearest settlement is Lubbock, a few miles that way.”

Rarity frowned.  “I’m afraid that doesn’t mean anything to me.”

She looked around worriedly, still seeing nothing but the flat Texas land.  “I’m sure my friends will come to my rescue soon.  Until then, I should probably find that diamond.  Did you see it?”

“Those men rode away with it,” Frank told her.  “Teal Jack and his gang.”

Rarity turned to look in the direction he pointed.  She gritted her teeth, but drew herself up primly.  “Well then, I suppose I must go after it.”

“Hang on.”  Frank raised his hands.  “You can’t just go after them all by yourself.”

“And why not?”  Rarity had turned to go but paused.  “My friends and I have fought dragons, a draconequus, changelings, parasprites, and several other examples of evil incarnate.  I must admit ignorance as to what these ‘men’ are like, but I think I can handle myself.  After all, none of you seem to have claws or huge teeth, and you’ve just said that you can’t wield magic.”

Frank had no idea what half those creatures she listed were, but he couldn’t just let her go by herself.  Teal Jack and his crew were dangerous, and this unicorn was apparently far from home and in unfamiliar territory.  It would be irresponsible to not help her.  Also, he was more than a little curious.  “I don’t think going off by yourself is a good idea.”

Rarity cast her eyes towards the fading dust cloud in the distance, clearly longing to go after the fleeing bandits.  She reluctantly turned back to Frank.  “Go on.”

“You’re...well, you’re a unicorn.  We just don’t have those around here.  People might be suspicious.”

Her ears flicked a little in confusion.  “Is that a problem?”

“I’m just saying that some drunk cowpoke with more bullets than brains might make a mistake.  You should stay away from towns, or get a disguise, or something.”

“Hmm.”  Rarity considered that for a moment.  She spotted Teal Jack’s hat lying on the ground.  Her horn glowed, and the hat floated into the air, supported by magic.  Frank stared, openmouthed, but Rarity didn’t notice.  She gave the hat a critical once-over, beating some dust from it before settling it on her head.  Her horn was neatly covered.  “How’s this?  I look like an earth pony now.”

“Well, uh,” Frank stammered, still recovering from the shock of seeing magic in action.  “It helps, I guess.  But what about the coloring?  And the... whatever that is on your rump.”

Rarity glanced at her hip.  “It’s just my cutie mark.  Honestly Frank, you seem to be making a big deal out of rather mundane things.”

“Ponies around here don’t have anything like cutie marks, none of them have purple manes, and very few are so bright white.”  Frank shook his head in exasperation.  “And they never, ever talk.  They’re, uh... just regular animals.”

“Are you suggesting that I should disguise myself as a common beast of burden?”  Rarity looked aghast.

“Well, yes.  I mean, nobody would look twice at you, and isn’t that what you want if you’re trying to catch some crooks?”

Rarity considered the idea for a long moment.  “I must reluctantly admit, you have a point.  So what do you suggest I do?”

“Maybe a saddle and some pack bags would help.”  Frank looked at his dead horse, still wearing her gear. 

Rarity followed his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Good heavens, what happened to her?”

“She was shot.”  

“Shot?”

Frank walked over and stood forlornly for a moment before kneeling down and starting to dig with his hands.  Teal Jack had taken everything he could, but one of Frank’s saddlebags was pressed between the dead mare’s body and the ground.  Frank eventually dug it out and opened the buckle.  There was exactly one thing inside: a Smith & Wesson Schofield .44 caliber revolver.

He held it up, and Rarity took a few steps closer with a look of curiosity.  “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“It’s a pistol.”  Frank flipped the latch and opened the top-break revolver.  He pulled out a cartridge and showed it to her.  “There’s gunpowder inside this that shoots the piece of lead at the front of the cartridge out of the barrel at high speed.  Someone used one of these to kill my horse.”

Rarity recoiled.  “Why do you have a dangerous weapon?”

“Everyone does.  It’s the way of the west.  After all, we don’t have claws or huge teeth or magic.”  Frank replaced the cartridge and checked to make sure five of the six chambers were loaded.  Leaving the one under the hammer empty was the only way to make sure the gun wouldn’t go off if dropped.  Also, it was a handy place to store a rolled up bank note.  Teal Jack had taken Frank’s usual pistol, so he dropped the Schofield into his empty holster.  Its short five inch barrel was a little loose in the leather, and he slipped a cord over the hammer to hold it.

Frank started digging again.  It wasn’t easy work, even with the slight amount of soil that he had to move to reach the saddle cinch.  He eventually did work the worn, dirty saddle loose of the horse.

“Do you expect me to wear that?” Rarity demanded.  She had been watching the whole time.

Frank looked down at the heavy saddle and padded blanket in his hands and then back at her.  “I thought you needed a disguise.”

“Yes, but that thing is hideous!  It has so many extra parts, not to mention you took it off a dead body!”

“Extra parts?” asked Frank, confused.

Rarity pointed a hoof at the saddle horn, curved seating surface, and stirrups.  She cocked an eyebrow.  “Honestly darling, who could have designed something like this?  What is it for?”

“It’s a working saddle.”  Frank frowned.  “Just what kind of saddles do they have where you come from?”

Rarity shook her head.  “At least let me clean it first.”

Frank hastily let go of the saddle as she grasped it with magic.  He had managed to get over the surprise of meeting a talking unicorn, but the sparkling blue lights and levitating objects still gave him pause.

Rarity’s eyebrows furrowed and the output of light from her horn increased.  Little clouds of trail dust drifted away from the saddle and blanket, shaken off by some unseen force.  After a few minutes, she was satisfied and gingerly set the rig on her back, doing up the cinch.  Her barrel was somewhat slimmer than the horse’s, and the saddlebags rode far enough back to cover her cutie mark.  

Stretching a bit to get used to the gear, Rarity struck a pose.  “How do I look?”

The last time Frank had been asked that, his girlfriend back in Dodge City had wanted a serious answer, not just a noncommittal grunt.  That was part of the reason they weren’t together anymore.  He put his hand to the stubble on his chin and gave Rarity a critical eye.  “Still need to do the mane, but you’re getting there.”

“I don’t know how I shall color it.”  Rarity frowned.

“Plenty of dirt around here,” Frank commented.

Rarity gasped, her eyes opening wide.  “Absolutely not!  We will go to a proper store and buy some dye!”

“Even if the general store in Lubbock has some, just how am I supposed to buy it?  Those men that took your diamond also stole all my money.  You surely don’t have any.”  Frank decided not to mention his last paper dollar, rolled up in the empty chamber of his pistol.

Rarity’s eyes narrowed.  “Fine then.  Take me to the nearest river.”

Frank didn’t know where she was going with that, but replied, “It’s west Texas.  Good luck finding one.”

Shaking her head, Rarity turned to walk in the direction of Lubbock that Frank had pointed out earlier.  

Frank took a moment to glance at his horse.  She’d been good to him, and it was a crying shame to just leave her for the buzzards.  There was no shovel to bury her, though, and no time anyway.

He turned and walked quickly, catching up with Rarity.  She was rather average-sized for a pony but still taller than him and her legs covered quite a bit of ground.  Frank put his hand on the pommel of the saddle.  “Hold up.”

She looked at him, annoyance clear in her blue eyes.  “Yes?”

“Aren’t you going to let me ride?”

Rarity stared at him for several seconds, her ears dropping back into an irritated posture.  “Pardon me, could you repeat that?”

“Riding is what the saddle is for.”  Frank gestured to the seat and stirrups.  “Also, you’re bigger than I am, and have more legs.  You can’t exactly ride me.”

“There’s no way I’m letting you on my back,” Rarity stated flatly.

Frank sighed.  It was going to be a long walk.
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before Frank and Rarity reached Lubbock, they encountered a trickling stream that cut a narrow path across the land.  Both of them cast a critical eye on the water before having a drink.

Frank’s canteen was one of the items that had been stolen from him, and the day was hot.  Without the creek, he might have made Lubbock before dying of thirst, but it was clear that Teal Jack was not concerned with trivial things like that.  Someone should do something about him, Frank thought.

Rarity glanced at him.  “Now, you said you needed money?  I may be able to help.”

She concentrated, closing her eyes.  Frank could see the blue glow from her horn, even under the hat she’d appropriated.  He waited while several seconds passed.

“There, I think I know where to start.”  Rarity looked down at the creek and carefully poked a hoof into the water.  She moved around a few stones on the bottom, throwing up a cloud of mud.  Gritting her teeth as the dirty water enveloped her hoof, she came out with a small lump of clay from the bottom of the creek.  On it was a tiny fleck of gold.

“What...what did you do?  How did you get that?”  Frank moved forward, staring in wonder.  He reached out a hand and Rarity let him take the speck of gold.

“I used a modified version of my signature gem-finding spell,” Rarity told him.  “I hope your money is gold-based.”

The government had started trying to shift to paper money, but in the west the preferred currency was still hard.  Frank held the miniscule amount of gold between his fingers.  “I don’t suppose you could find more?”

Rarity nodded.  “Of course.”

She hunted up and down the creek for a few minutes, pulling out small flakes of gold.  This was not ore-rich country, and none of the panners Frank knew had ever pulled any profit from this creek.  Somehow, Rarity managed to find the tiniest samples.

When she was done, there was a small handful of granular gold in Frank’s palm.  It was not even a month’s wages working for a ranch, but still more than Teal Jack had stolen from him.

“Is that enough?” Rarity asked.  Her tone implied that it had better be.  “I need to get going soon if I’m to chase those bandits.”

“I reckon it’ll do.”  Frank fell in step beside her as two of them started walking towards town again.  He considered her abilities.  Rarity could produce wealth on a whim.  Interesting, very interesting.

Buildings began to grow on the horizon.  The flat land laid the town of Lubbock out before them.  It was still quite distant, but Frank decided that Rarity should probably stay as far away as possible.  Even disguised as a mundane pony, she would attract a lot of attention.

A thicket of stunted trees and brush presented itself.  It seemed like good cover and Frank headed in that direction.  Before he and Rarity reached it, there was a sudden rustle of branches and a flash of movement.  Frank’s pistol had already cleared leather before a mule deer leaped from the brush and dashed away.

Rarity recovered from her startle, glancing between Frank’s face and his weapon.  He caught her looking and lowered the gun.  “Sorry.  I hope you understand that I’m a little on edge.  It hasn’t been a good day.”

She nodded, but with concern.  “I’m a little more worried that your first reaction was to threaten that deer with violence.”

“Animals are dumb, remember.  It wouldn’t have understood a threat.  Just seeing a person was enough to make it run away.”

Rarity frowned.  She watched Frank lower the hammer on his pistol, reorienting the cylinder so the empty chamber was back on top, and slide into his holster.  The metal device was obviously intricate and well crafted.  It looked nothing like a weapon from her homeland.

They walked over to the thicket.  Frank stopped, staring with surprise at a plant growing among the others.  “What in tarnation is a sassafrass sapling doing here?  I’ve never seen one this far west.”

Rarity glanced at the distinctive leaves.  Sure enough, it was sassafrass.  Frank broke off a twig and chewed it for a moment, enjoying the taste.

While chewing on unprocessed pieces of a small tree was unladylike, Rarity got a twig of her own.  Frank glanced at her, still somewhat skittish at watching Rarity use magic.  He turned away as if pretending not to see.

After chewing the end of the twig into a frizz, Rarity used it to scrub the inside of her mouth.  There was no telling how long she might be stuck here, and that was no excuse not to brush her teeth.

For a few moments, the two of them stood in silence.  Rarity’s eyes drifted as she slowly worked the flavor out of the twig.  Her gaze fell on Frank’s gun, resting on his hip.  Wanting to study it, she pulled it from his holster.

Frank reacted like he’d been bitten.  He wheeled around, surprise and panic etched on his face.  “What are you doing?”

Rarity jerked back, in the process pulling the gun away from his grasping hands.  “I just wanted a closer look.”

Frank’s eyes were wide.  “Give it to me.  Please, just give it back.”

Sensing her advantage over him, Rarity asked, “Is it that important?”

“Yes,” Frank insisted, his eyes not leaving the gun.  “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

The solution seemed obvious enough to Rarity.  “Teach me.”  

“First, stop pointing it at me!”

Rarity tipped the barrel towards the ground.  Frank reached out hesitantly and took the pistol from her magic aura.  Rarity continued to look at him expectantly.

Frank sighed.  “What do you even want with a gun?”

“You said everyone has one.  If I will be chasing criminals, I hope you will at least tell me how to defend myself from them.”

She was a charmer, Frank had to give Rarity that.  She hadn’t actually batted her eyelashes at him, but the tone shift in her voice was clear.  Worse, it was working.  It wouldn’t be gentlemanly to refuse a simple, polite request like that from someone who, regardless of species, was still very much a lady.

“The hammer has to be pulled back before the gun will fire,” Frank explained, showing what part of the pistol he meant.  “After that, you pull the trigger and the gun goes off.  If you don’t want to get shot, then stop those two things from happening.”

Rarity nodded in understanding.  Then, she grabbed the gun from Frank, cocked the hammer, and pulled the trigger.

To her credit, the pistol wasn’t pointed towards anything vulnerable.  That didn’t stop Frank from screeching and yanking the gun back.  “What are you doing!?”

Rarity shook her head.  Her ears stinging from the bang the pistol had made, much louder than she expected.  “I thought I should determine what happened after the trigger was pulled.”

“Well, now you know,” Frank grumbled.  “And now I have only four bullets left.”

“Can you buy more?”

“Well...yes, I suppose.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Rarity asked.  “I only needed you to buy me some mane dye.  You can spend the rest of that gold dust on yourself.”

Frank’s mouth opened and closed.  Rarity’s argument was good, probably even better than she realized.  He was still irritated, however.

“Fine, I’m going to town.”  Frank pointed to the ground.  “Wait here.”

Rarity huffed at being given orders but lay down in the shade of the thicket.  “How long will you be gone?”

Frank shrugged, turning away to start walking.

Rarity lounged there as he left.  She looked around for a moment, the break giving her time to more fully appreciate her situation.  Her self control up to this point had been impeccable, but now that Frank had gone and she was alone with her emotions.

The tears didn’t start immediately.  Rarity held them off as long as she could, but a few leaked through her mascara.  She wiped her eyes, the makeup coming off on her hooves.

Cheer up. Twilight will realize her mistake and come looking for me soon.  Rarity finished wiping her eyes and frowned.  Twilight was usually so careful.  She didn’t seem to be in a hurry when she’d given Rarity the mysterious diamond, so there should have been time to check it thoroughly before letting one of her friends handle a potentially dangerous object.

The more Rarity thought about it, the more the situation seemed strange.  Of course, it was already strange, what with finding herself among cowboys in the wild west.  But something still didn’t seem right about Twilight’s actions.  Rarity decided that her best option was still to go after the criminals and get the diamond back.  This was not the time to stand by passively and let herself be rescued.  She could usually count on her friends, but that didn’t mean she was incapable of taking care of herself.

And, Rarity reflected with some disdain, it didn’t mean she was above getting dirty.  She would prefer staying clean if possible, but doing what needed to be done was more important.  Her time with the Elements of Harmony had made that clear.  Besides, here in the mysterious land of Texas there was nopony she had to look fabulous for.  Frank certainly didn’t seem the type to appreciate it.

She gathered her wits and took a calming breath.  Rarity had confidence in herself, but perhaps somewhat less in Frank.  He was helping her, however, and she would have to work with him for at least a little while longer.

Time continued to tick by.  Frank had been gone awhile.  He wasn’t a very fast walker, Rarity thought with annoyance.  She looked around, her gaze resting on the saddle she wore.  Did these men really sit on such a thing?  Rarity could see how their legs would straddle it.  The idea of her actually being put to work carrying a load was deplorable.

Rarity got up, stretching her legs.  She nibbled on a little grass, but was not hungry enough to do more than snack.  The tall, wild-grown stuff was not very appetizing anyway.

She paced for a minute, still impatiently waiting on Frank.  The sassafras plant caught Rarity’s eye, and she considered it for a moment before scratching at the ground near its base.  If she had time, she might as well dig up some roots.  Perhaps it would make a nice tea later.

While Rarity might have objected to getting dirty, she did occasionally find her hooves in the soil.  Gems did not unearth themselves after all, but magic certainly helped. 

She had gathered a few short roots by the time Frank came back.  There was a burlap bag in his hands.

“This is what you wanted,” he said, digging in the sack and coming out with a small glass bottle.  It was filled with a black liquid.  Rarity took it from him and scrutinized the color.  She would have preferred something a little lighter, perhaps a nice auburn, but without an effective way to lighten her mane in preparation this would have to do.

Frank opened one of the saddlebags and dumped a few things from the sack into it.  Rarity gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he said.  “It’s my saddle.”

The things he had bought didn’t weigh much, and Rarity decided not to press the issue.  She turned to head back towards the creek.  “I will need water and a mirror, if you have one.”

Frank walked quickly to catch up.  “Nope, I don’t have anything like that.”

Of course he didn’t.  With her mind set, Rarity broke into a trot to get to the source of water more quickly.  Arriving at the creek, it took her a moment to realize that Frank was following her at a pace faster than he felt comfortable covering long distances.  He panted, sweat beading on his face more than just the heat could produce.

Rarity knelt at the edge of the creek, looking into the clear water.  It was almost as good as a mirror, she supposed.  Opening the bottle of dye, she carefully began to spread it over her mane.

Managing to avoid getting any of the black coloring on her pale coat, Rarity finished her mane and started working on her tail.  Having caught his breath, Frank stood nearby, arms crossed.  While not familiar with that particular piece of body language, Rarity took it to mean that he was impatient.  Well, that was too bad.  She’d waited on him earlier.

The dye would take a little while to dry, but Rarity felt confident that the low humidity heat and the sun would quicken the process.  She corked the bottle and got up, dismayed to see that her legs had gotten dirty from kneeling by the creek.

Her mane seemed to have turned out alright, at least.  The final color was a deep blue-black that held just as much luster as her usual tone.  Perhaps it wasn’t so bad.  Maybe Rarity would even grow to like it before going home.

She grimaced.  Hopefully she wouldn’t be there on this planet quite that long.

Turning to Frank, Rarity said, “Thank you very much for the help.  I’ll be on my way.”

“Hang on,” he protested.  “I’m coming with.  You might blend in now but you still don’t know anything about getting by.  Besides, Teal Jack and his gang stole from me, too.”

Rarity huffed.  “Well, you can certainly track them down yourself.”

Frank nodded.  “But can you?  What do you know about following sign and reading clues?”

Somewhat taken aback, Rarity stuttered but Frank jumped in again.  “And who is supposed to give you a rub down after a long day on the trail?  Or buy you more dye if you need it?  Or explain what a lone pony is doing out in the middle of the desert by herself?”

Rarity was more than capable of bathing herself, but objecting to that point and ignoring the others seemed petty.  Frank unfortunately had a point.

“Well, fine then.”  Rarity turned to the west.  The sun had crossed midday and was starting to set towards the horizon.  It would make traveling difficult with the glare in their eyes, but it couldn’t be helped.

“Aren’t you coming?” Rarity asked, turning her head towards Frank.  He glanced pointedly at the saddle and looked her in the eye.

“Ugh, fine!”  Rarity stood still and let Frank climb into the saddle.  He seemed gentle about it and well practiced at this sort of thing, and while Rarity hadn’t thought about it before his relative weight seemed fairly light.  Rarity couldn’t imagine how it looked, though.  She grumbled under her breath at the indignity but began to walk regardless.

Up top, Frank considered his situation.  He had a mount under him again, and while he regretted not insisting on a bit and bridle - maybe it would quiet her down - things were looking better.

In a few minutes, they came to the place where the robbery had gone down.   Frank applied subtle pressure on Rarity’s side with his knee.  Whether she knew what he was doing or not, they gave the area a wide berth.  Frank did not want to see what his horse would be like after spending all day in the hot sun.

The tracks leading away were obvious even in the fading light.  As they started down the trail, Frank looked back.  The messy sight of a dead horse might have been gruesome, but he did feel a pang of longing.

As if reading his mind, Rarity asked, “What was her name?”

Frank let the question sit for a few seconds before replying, “I never named her.  I didn’t want to get too attached.  Out here, sometimes that’s the worst thing you can do; making and then losing a friend.”

“Does everyone here act so coldly?” Rarity muttered.

“It’s not like I treated her badly,” Frank objected.  “I took care of her as well as I could and she did what I asked.  We had a good deal going.”

Rarity silently reflected on that.  Friendship or not, she and Frank might have to depend on each other.  They each needed help, in their own way.  Working together might be the best option.

Hopefully not for too long, though.
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The landscape remained flat and arid as they traveled, the darkening sky casting long shadows on the scrub and coarse vegetation.  

“The Princess is taking her time this evening,” Rarity murmured, glancing at the position of the sun.

Frank had no idea what she was talking about and kept quiet.

Rarity went on.  “After walking all day, I think now would be a good time to relax and watch the sunset.”

It occurred to Frank that perhaps all females were the same.  Rarity’s statement sounded exactly like something a woman would say.  It was also apparent that one should not go against the wishes of the fairer sex when they desired to see a sunset.  He reluctantly slid out of the saddle.

They had come to a small hillock that provided shelter from one direction.  Frank managed to scour enough brush and scraps to build a small pile of kindling.  An evening fire was hard to come by in this part of the country, and if he were by himself he certainly wouldn’t have bothered.  The comparative bother Rarity probably would create, however, made the task of building a fire seem small.  He lit it with one match from a small package that he had purchased.

The unicorn sighed rather contentedly as she sat on her rump and watched the sunset.  Frank shook his head and pulled out some jerky had had gotten from the store in Lubbock.  Along with a handful of dried fruit and hardtack biscuits, it was his meal.  Precious little food would stay unspoiled in the desert.

Rarity noticed him eating and came over.  “Dinner, excellent.  I’m famished.”

Frank pulled his biscuits back.  “Hang on.  There’s only enough to feed me for a few days.”

“What are you talking about?” Rarity demanded.  “You simply forgot to accommodate for my meals?”

“I figured you would just eat grass.”

Rarity gasped.  “How very ungentlemanly of you.  Also, what grass?  There’s nothing but scraggly weeds around here.”

“And I can’t eat that at all,” Frank argued.  Trying to change tactics, he added, “At least you can live off the land.  I have to pack everything along.”

Rarity eyed the piece of jerky in his hand.  “Is that meat?”

“Yes.”

“And is this saddle you’re having me wear made of tanned hide?”

“We call it leather, but yes.”

Rarity sighed and rolled her eyes theatrically.  “You kill animals and you build weapons to kill each other, but drop you in the middle of nowhere and you need to pack your meals just to survive?  As a species you really aren’t very good predators, Frank.” 

She unhitched the saddle and laid it on the ground beside the fire.  Taking the teal hat off her head, Rarity sat it on top the saddle.  “I’m going for a bite now.  I hope I can stomach this garbage you call grass.”

Frank hoped he could stomach a few more days of her attitude.  Hopefully, it would only take that long to figure out where Teal Jack’s gang had gone and track them down.  He didn’t relish meeting up with them, but he had until then to talk himself out of it.

He frowned in thought.  If Rarity had to get that diamond back in order to return to wherever she was from, then things would probably get ugly.  There was no way Teal Jack would just let a gem like that go.

As the sky continued to darken, Frank lay back and found a comfortable spot on the saddle blanket.  He was asleep in minutes.

Nearby, Rarity continued to chew on tough desert plants.  They tasted like unadorned salad that had been replanted and been allowed to grow some more before being served to her.  She directed her ire at Frank, who had apparently stolen her blanket and was already snoozing.

It was easy to dislike him.  At the same time, Rarity forced herself to be honest.  Most of their struggles had been misunderstandings.  That didn’t mean she was going to forgive him, though.

Reaching for another mouthful of unidentified plant matter, Rarity heard a slight sound.  Her head came up, mouth pausing in its crunching on some tasteless weed.  She wasn’t sure what the noise might have been.  Ears turning, Rarity slowly tried to figure out what it was she might have heard.  And then something heavier than Frank slammed into her from behind.

Shrieking in surprise, Rarity collapsed to the ground and rolled, feeling claws tear at her skin.  The large cougar that had mistaken her for prey hadn’t managed to get a grip before she twisted free, and its claws left only shallow scratches.

The two of them wrestled in the dirt, Rarity managing to come out on top.  Her hoof collided with the big cat’s face.  That seemed like a good idea, so she did it a few more times.  A few feline teeth flew through the air.

The cougar had been knocked senseless and lay limply, weak noises coming from its throat.  Compared to a manticore, it was rather underwhelming.  Breathing hard, Rarity got up and stumbled a few steps away.  Her head jerked in surprise as Frank appeared at her side, brandishing his pistol.  “Rarity, what in tarnation?”

His swearing aside, Rarity gestured with a hoof by way of reply.  Frank edged closer, not lowering his weapon.  He inspected the battered cougar for a moment.  “Looks like its jaw is broken.  You really did a number on it.”

“Everything just happened so fast,” Rarity murmured, gaining enough breath to speak.

“Broke some teeth, too,” Frank observed, nudging one of the broken fragments with his foot as it lay on the ground.  “It won’t be able to eat.  We can’t just leave it.”

“It tried to kill me!” Rarity blustered.  “And I can’t imagine that there are many dangerous animal veterinarians that we could get it to!”

“You’re right,” Frank acknowledged.  “But we can’t let it starve to death or catch some disease.”

He checked his gun and stepped back towards the cougar.  Rarity looked between the two of them with alarm.  “But why must we burden ourselves with putting it out of its misery?”

“I take it you’ve never heard of the Code of the West,” said Frank, his voice quiet and tone reverent.  “None of the rules are written down, but they don’t need to be.  Every man has his own version of it, and makes it up as his conscience feels.  Something is either right or wrong.  Cruelty can’t be tolerated, don’t you agree?”

Rarity gaped at him, slightly overcome by the moment but also Frank’s sudden display of emotional depth.  “I...I suppose you’re correct.”

Frank turned again and raised his pistol.  Rarity stopped him.  “Wait.”

She looked away for a moment to collect herself and then explained, “This was my doing, my debt.  I should be the one to finish it.”

A new expression came to Frank’s face.  He held his hand, the pistol flat in his palm.  Rarity took it gingerly and pulled the hammer back.  The cylinder rolled into position on a loaded chamber.  Rarity whispered a quiet prayer to Celestia and did her duty to the wounded cougar.

Rarity turned away, her eyes closing.  Frank took the pistol and stepped close to her, resting a hand on her withers.  A long minute passed in silence.

Shifting his hand slightly, Frank noted, “You’re a little bloody.”

He dabbed at the scratches on Rarity’s back with something.  She let him work without complaint.  The two of them walked back towards the dying embers of the fire.  Rarity had lost her appetite and only wanted to rest.

Frank seemed to share her sentiment.  He folded his handkerchief to conceal the spots of blood and put it in his pocket.  He lay down and looked relaxed.

“How can you just go to sleep with cougars around?” Rarity questioned.

“There aren’t that many, and if anything else comes along in the night it now has a nice meal that won’t fight back waiting for it.”  Frank shrugged.  “Can’t worry about everything.”

Rarity had a hard time convincing herself, but if Frank, the native, was not concerned, then she decided perhaps it was safe.  She lay down, silently bemoaning the hard ground.  Though she should be sleeping, her thoughts drifted to Frank.  What an odd creature he was; somewhat irreverent, yet dedicated to to at least a few principles.  She had no idea what sort of circumstances in his life might have resulted in that.  She didn’t know what his education might be or how he’d gotten to where he was.  Frank had never asked her those questions, either.

The night passed slowly.  Rarity did not trouble herself with thinking for too long, somehow finding rest on the uncomfortable ground.

Morning greeted her with a faint glow on the horizon.  Frank was moving around, packing up what little he’d unpacked the previous evening.  He took a small piece of paper and rolled tobacco into it, lighting the cigarette and smoking it in place of breakfast.

Rarity got up and stretched, trying to work out the kinks from sleeping on the ground.  Her back hurt, and she looked morosely at the scattering of scabs on her hide.  They were small, however, and could easily be fixed with magic when she got home.  Rarity was not worried about minor injuries.

Frank brushed her down with a handful of dried grass, only managing to clean some of the dirt from her coat.  His fingers seemed to know what to do about her tight muscles, however.  It was no spa massage, but Rarity was pleased with the results.  

Frank took the smoke from his mouth.  “Hold this.”  He reached for the saddle and blanket.

Rarity accepted the cigarette and had a quick puff.  She coughed.  “What sort of tobacco is this?  It tastes stale and seems to have too much stem and not enough leaf.”

“What are you, an expert?  It’s what they had at the store,” Frank replied.  He didn’t seem to want the cigarette back after Rarity’s lips had been on it, so she crushed it out while Frank settled the saddle and blanket onto her back and reached below to tighten the cinch.  Rarity worked with him, making the process easier on them both.

They set off as the sun crested the eastern horizon.  The day was going to get hot, and both of them would need to find some water.  Fortunately, a small trickle that was barely a stream came into view.

Frank inspected the tracks of a few shod horses nearby while Rarity drank.  There was no way to say for certain that they had come from Teal Jack’s gang, but the number of horses suggested that it had been a group of about the right size.

Getting back on the trail, it was not difficult to follow the tracks.  Even Rarity, who did not seem to have much experience with reading sign was able to pick them out without any trouble.

At midday, they happened across a line of railroad tracks.  Rarity turned her head to look accusingly at Frank.  “If you have trains, then why are we walking?”

“We’re following the gang cross-country,” he reminded her.  “And I can’t afford tickets.”

Rarity snorted.  “Darling, if you needed money could could have just asked me.”

They turned to follow the tracks.  Within a few miles a small collection of buildings came into view.  They were - all three of them - rough and hastily built.  It was not a town so much as a semi permanent camp.  The place had probably only sprung up because of the nearby train coal and water stop.  There was a general store, a bunkhouse for railroad employees, and a saloon.

A hitching rail near the store presented itself.  Rarity wasn’t wearing bit, bridle, or reins, but she got the point.  A horse stood there when they arrived.  Frank checked quickly and determined he was a gelding.  Hopefully there would be no problems leaving Rarity here.

She looked at the horse, but remembered what Frank had said about them just being animals.  Glancing through the general store’s window, she inspected the meager display of products.

“There’s still some gold dust left,” Frank noted.  “Is there anything we need?”

“I would just love to go shopping,” Rarity noted sarcastically.  “Please, tell me where I can find a real store?”

“I’ve gotten the feeling that you aren’t used to roughing it,” Frank observed.

Rarity glared at him but didn’t trouble herself to respond.  Turning away, Frank started for the store but paused.  “Just remember what we talked about.  As far as everybody knows, you’re just a regular pony.”

Rarity could argue that all this dirt was making her a regular pony, but if she was going to start pretending that she couldn’t talk, it might as well be now.

Frank continued into the store.  A few minutes passed while Rarity waited.  A couple of people passed by.  They each seemed interested in her hat, but none came close.  Rarity swished her tail to ward off flies.  A tumbleweed rolled down the street.

When Frank came back, he had a small sack.  Inside were a few food items that he packed into the saddlebags.  And then he took out a small, thin object wrapped in paper and carefully tied with string.

He showed it to Rarity and unwrapped it, revealing a lacquered wood cigarette holder.  The craftsmanship was impressive and finding such a thing in the middle of nowhere was astonishing.

Frank also took out a small package of tobacco that actually looked premium quality.  He rolled two cigarettes and fitted one into the holder, putting the mouthpiece between Rarity’s lips.  She accepted it with pleasure.  

Frank lit a match for both of them.  Rarity cocked her head at an elegant angle and blew out a thin wisp of smoke.  This tobacco was not the best she had ever tasted, but much better than she expected.

A man walking by stopped in his tracks, staring.  Frank gave him a look.  “What, never seen a pony smoking before?”

Rarity snorted, as if mocking the idea that a classy mare with a fashionable cigarette holder was anything but ordinary.

The man jerked, as if only just realizing that she was smoking.  He shook his head.  “Actually, I was thinking that hat looks like it belongs to Teal Jack Smith.  He was bareheaded when he came through yesterday.”

Frank’s face showed his interest.  “Any idea where he went after leaving here?”

The man shrugged.  “Maybe you can ask Clay Dixon.  When the gang left, he stayed here and got drunk.”

Frank tensed.  Clay Dixon was a known member of Teal Jack’s gang, and a snake in his own right.  They needed the information he might provide, but there was no way Frank had the moxie to face him on even terms.

He tipped his hat to the man who had given Dixon’s name.  With a nod to Rarity to follow, Frank walked away from the hitching rail.  They regrouped behind the saloon to form a plan.

“Is this Clay Dixon dangerous?” Rarity asked.

“Yes.  We’re going to figure out how to get the drop on him.”  Frank sighed.  “This isn’t going to be easy.”

And it wasn’t.  Ultimately, their plan came down to the idea that Dixon wouldn’t know Frank had backup.  That didn’t reduce the danger any, but it would have to do.

That evening, when Clay Dixon stumbled out of the saloon in a somewhat intoxicated haze, Frank was waiting.

Dixon was a sharp dresser, with new clothing and tooled boots and belts.  His white hat was immaculate, somehow free of trail dust.  The saddle and tack on his horse were custom, a design that resembled a Confederate cavalry rig, except with more polished brass and a better finish on the leather.

The guns in the saddle holsters were not military-issue, either.  Dixon had a pair of .45 caliber Colt Single Action Army pistols.  They had come custom from the factory with ten inch barrels.  A master gunsmith had intricately decorated the pair with engraving, coated everything with a shiny nickel finish, and added pearl grips.

Dixon had untied his horse from the rail when Frank caught his eye.  Frank was positioned at the corner of the saloon and quickly walked out of sight after being spotted.

A few seconds passed.  Frank made his way to the next corner and stopped behind the building.  There was no one back there, and whatever happened would go unobserved.

The plan he and Rarity had formed, getting Dixon alone, worked.  It slightly surprised Frank, to be honest.  Dixon appeared behind the saloon, one hand leading his horse and the other hovering over a gun on his belt.

He faced down Frank.  “Do I know you, mister?”

“We’ve met,” Frank allowed.  “It was yesterday.”

Dixon nodded, a smile coming to his lips.  “I remember now.  What’s troubling you, friend?  Maybe I have something of yours?”

While he chuckled, Rarity approached stealthily and pulled the pistol from Dixon’s hip holster, holding it to the back of his head.  The click of the hammer going back silenced him.  She tapped the muzzle against his skull just to drive the message home.

Frank drew his own gun, just for backup.  “Yes Dixon, you owe me a few things.”

“Including a few tips about style,” Rarity muttered as she appraised Dixon’s fancy clothes and kit.  “He could talk to you about that.”

Dixon sputtered for a moment but the gun at his head stopped him from turning around.  “You got a woman helping you out?”

Rather than answering the question, Frank asked, “Where did the rest of the gang go?”

“None of us could quite agree on what happened yesterday,” Dixon admitted.  “I’ve seen a lot of strange things, but that took the cake.  I know what I saw in that flash of light, but I’m not sure if I believe it.  Teal Jack was raving like a madman, though.  Swore he was going to get to the bottom of things.  Personally, I decided to quit myself of that and do a little relaxing here.  The rest of them were probably headed on southwest.”

“What for?” Frank prodded.

Dixon shrugged.  “Don’t know.  Anyway, I’ve already told you enough.”

“So what about reparations for the robbery?” Rarity put in.

“I think women should be seen and not heard,” Dixon replied, still looking at Frank.  “Pretty much the exact opposite of a broad like you.”

“Why I never!”  Rarity began unbuckling the saddle she wore, still holding the gun.  “Just for that, I think I’ll give you a taste of what I’ve had to go through since you made off with that robbery.”

She quickly swapped the saddles, leaving Dixon with Frank’s old one.  After Frank saw that she had finished cinching straps and transferring the contents of saddlebags, he nodded.  “I reckon that makes us even, Dixon.”

Rarity unloaded Dixon’s gun and slid it back into its holster.  Frank kept his own weapon out to distract Dixon while Rarity slipped away.

Realizing that he wasn’t about to be shot, Dixon glanced with distaste at the old gear now adorning his horse.  He looked back to Frank.  “If I catch up to you again, I’m going to take this out of your hide.”

Frank nodded and walked past him, back out to the front of the saloon.  He met Rarity there and mounted up.  They headed out of town at a fast trot.

The new saddle was a little strange to get used to, and Frank shifted a little, getting a feel for it.  The thing was certainly fancy enough, with its baubles and polish.

As they traveled, Rarity slipped the pair of shiny pistols out of their holsters and appraised them, rolling the cylinders and inspecting the finish.  “I don’t believe I’ve seen such intricate work in quite a long time.  That engraving must have taken ages to do.  I think I will like these very much.”

Frank himself had his eyes on the pistols, but as Rarity giggled with glee at their polish and smooth operation, he decided that maybe letting her have them was the smarter option.  Rarity seemed to have a way of getting what she wanted.  Armed, even more so.





> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pace kept up for the rest of the day.  Frank made a point to watch the back trail, but never saw any pursuit.  They didn’t want to underestimate Clay Dixon, but it looked like he wasn’t following.

The two of them continued west by southwest.  Frank didn’t think the trail had taken them into New Mexico territory quite yet, but didn’t know where the line was, exactly.  Regardless, they pushed on.

Rarity had not spent all day trotting in a very long time.  She had gone on quests with her friends before, and so knew a few things about pacing.  Ironically enough, Frank probably weighed less than much of the luggage she usually brought on cross country ventures.

They made camp that evening and at Rarity’s insistence Frank gathered materials for a fire.  There was no wood to be found, but he managed to find something to burn.

Rarity stared at what Frank had piled together.  “What are those?”

“Buffalo chips.”

Rarity frowned, but then her eyes widened in realization followed promptly by a nose wrinkle of disgust.  “Oh.”

She looked around, attempting to change the subject.  “I don’t see any buffalo around.”

“There aren’t many in these parts, really.”  Frank sat back on his heels and hunted for the matches.  “A lot of them died out in the last few years.”

“What did they die from?”

“Bullets.”

Rarity gave Frank a hard look.  He glanced at her.  “What?  You asked.”

The fire began to grow, and along with it came a terrible smell of burning manure.  Rarity gagged.  “Put it out, put it out!”

Frank tossed a few handfuls of dirt on the flames.  As the heat and light died away, the two of them sat there in the darkness.

Rarity glanced skyward, seeing that the moon still hadn’t risen.  “Hmm.  I wonder what’s keeping Princess Luna.”

“Who?” asked Frank.

“She is the co-ruler of Equestria and the keeper of the moon,” Rarity explained.

Frank shrugged.  An idea occurred to Rarity.  She asked, “Who raises and lowers the moon and sun here?”

A long moment passed.  Frank’s expression was unreadable in the darkness.  He replied, “Nobody.”

Rarity considered his statement.  “I suppose that explains why they’re so unpredictable.  Really, just letting your heavenly bodies run themselves.  I suppose the weather is free to do whatever it wishes as well.  Do you really trust nature that much?”

“Not like we have a choice.”

“I feel for you humans, I really do.”  Rarity sighed.  She tipped her head back to look at the stars.  Without the moon’s brightness, the small pinpricks of light were not outshone and the entire sky was decorated.  Rarity had almost never been out in the wilds, away from town lights and any other distractions.  Seeing the beautiful stars made up for the lack of a comforting fire.

Rarity watched Frank’s head move, looking from one point in the sky to another.  She asked, “Are you looking for constellations?”

“Navigating,” he replied.  “The sun tells us our direction during the day.  The stars do the same at night.  You compare them to landmarks to establish a line of bearing.”

“Is that method really so accurate?” Rarity asked, not concealing the skepticism in her voice.  “With the wild stars and whatnot.”

Frank moved his shoulders in the darkness.  “Left to their own devices, everything moves in a predictable way and has been doing that forever.  Some folks say the Earth is a few thousand years old.  Some say it’s a lot older, a million years or even a...whatever comes after a million.”

“You sound very well read,” Rarity offered.

“I hear things,” Frank glanced away from the stars.  “Not many books out here.”

“What was your schooling like?” Rarity asked.  She pressed further.  “What did you do before you came here?”

“Not really important,” Frank muttered, barely audible.  “The way I figure, you judge someone based on what they put in front of you.  People change.  Second chances aren’t taken lightly.  I never asked about your past.”

That was enough to keep Rarity quiet for several seconds.  The way Frank spoke, this sounded like another of his Code of the West guidelines.

Still pondering that, Rarity lay down to sleep.  Somehow, Frank had already dozed off.  She tried to get comfortable on the ground.  It was not a feather bed by any means, but Rarity felt the effects of being on the trail all day, and decided that she’d much rather be sore while sleeping than awake.

They were up again by daybreak.  Frank gave Rarity another light massage while rubbing her down and checking for any injuries.  She could have reported wounds herself, but appreciated that he seemed to care.

Frank helped Rarity with the saddle.  He checked the attached holsters.  Rarity slid the pair of shiny pistols out and inspected them for a moment.  “These look like a different design than your gun.  Are you familiar with it?”

“I know my way around them.”  Frank took one and opened the loading gate, working the ejector rod to push a cartridge out of the cylinder.  Rarity observed the process and repeated it with the other pistol.

She reinserted the cartridge and closed the loading gate.  “Well, now that I’m familiar with basic operation, I think that I should practice.”

The long barrels on the custom Colts made the aiming easier.  Rarity held both guns in front of her and pulled back the hammers.  There was nothing for targets except scraggly brush with stems no wider than Frank’s fingers.  Rarity focused on one a few yards away, lining up her shot.

She hit it with the first bullet.  Encouraged, Rarity tried for another farther away.  She kept going, extending her range with every shot.  The twelfth bullet snapped off a bush almost fifty yards away.

To conceal his surprise at the display of accuracy, Frank offered a box of ammunition taken from Dixon’s supplies.  Rarity began to reload, her magic more deft than hands could hope to be.  Both pistols had their chambers filled in a matter of seconds.

“Make sure you take care of them,” Frank reminded her, raising his voice to compensate for the ringing in his ears from the firing.  “You can pull a knotted string through the barrel to clear it.  I’m sure you don’t want them to get dirty.”

“I should think not,” Rarity agreed.  Having nothing else to use, she polished the guns on the cleanest part of her coat.

Rarity’s hearing was not too affected by the shooting.  Expecting the sound, it had been a simple matter to lay her ears back and take some of the sting out of it.  She was again struck by how mankind did not seem nearly so robust as ponykind.

The two of them set off for another day’s ride.  Frank had been in this part of the country before and knew a good stopover point for that evening.  Working with his landmarks, he subtly altered their course.

“Tell me a little more about this country,” Rarity said, breaking the silence.

Frank looked around.  “There’s some ranching.  They raise cattle, mostly.  Some people mine for minerals - there’s silver west of here in the mountains.  I heard that survey companies are beginning to look for oil in west Texas.”

Rarity continued to walk.  She asked, “That covers the land.  What about the people?”

“Most of us have come from somewhere else.  Even only a decade or two ago, there was nothing out here.  Now there are businesses and railroads and towns, with more being built all the time.”

Rarity thought about asking where Frank had come from, but decided that wasn’t where the conversation was going.  Based on his earlier statements about asking personal questions, he might not appreciate it, either.  Instead, she said, “I suppose with the low population, that also means the government is spread thinly.”

“I reckon,” said Frank.  “Occasionally you’ll see some soldiers out here fighting indians, but generally the only law is a sheriff or marshall in the bigger towns.”

Considering that for a moment, Rarity asked, “What are indians?”

“Savages.”

Rarity came to a sudden halt.  She looked back at Frank.  “Pardon me?”

“They aren’t civilized,” he clarified.

“But are they human?”

Frank appeared to struggle with the answer for a moment.  “I suppose so.”

Rarity started walking again.  “The next indian we meet, I want you to be courteous.” 

“You ain’t my mother,” Frank retorted.

“I know that it can be hard to get along with those you don’t really understand, but that’s no excuse to make generalizations about whole groups.”  Rarity nodded to herself.  “Now, I have no idea what an indian looks like, so you’ll have to indicate them when they appear.  But don’t point, that’s impolite.”

Frank did not reply.

The day continued slowly on, the sun rising overhead and then swinging towards the western horizon.  The flat, treeless land offered uninterrupted views of the sky.  All that space seemed to make the sun move with agonizing slowness.

In the evening, a glimmer of silver appeared and grew into a long narrow lake as they approached.  The heat mirages made it seem more substantial than it was.  A ring of dry lakebed surrounded a pitiful amount of water.  It was still a fine oasis to stop for the night.

Frank remembered the place was called Ranger Lake.  There was an old story about a battle in the area.  This night was quiet, however.  

He inspected the animal tracks around the water, noting their species, both aggressive and benign.  Pleasingly, there didn’t seem to be any cougar prints.

Frank and Rarity both had a drink and settled in for the night.  The seasonal water had given rise to more substantial plants around the lake, and there was enough to burn for a fire.  

Rarity stretched, today more accustomed to the soreness of traveling.  She wandered near the campsite, finding a growth of prickly pear cactus.  Rarity had never eaten such a thing before, but they looked juicier and slightly more appetizing than the scrub brush.  Picking a few of the flat pads, she carried them back to the fire and set about pulling off the large spines.

Frank watched her.  “Don’t forget to char them.”

Rarity looked up.  “Why is that?”

“The skin has other needles on it that are smaller and practically invisible.  Easiest way to get rid of them is burn them off.”

After de-needling the cactus pads, Rarity crisped the skin for a few seconds in the flames.  The moisture inside kept them from burning.

Rarity’s first bite was tentative.  The flavor and texture was strange and, practically raw as the prickly pear was, not very pleasant.  It was better than eating scrub, however.

Frank lay back, preparing for another night’s sleep.  The nighttime bugs were beginning to buzz around.  The wind stirred.  A few birds called.  

Actually encountering songbirds out here was a bit unusual, but probably not at a source of water like the lake.  His instincts were tuned to listen for sounds that could indicate danger.  That could be as direct as the click of a gun’s hammer, or something more subtle like the sudden disappearance of the birds.  Many things could kill you, but there were at least as many warnings beforehand.

Frank didn’t think Rarity was attuned to such indications.  During the day, her head seldom drifted from their path to take in a wider area.  She had focus, but perhaps wasn’t seeing the whole picture.

The more he thought about it, however, Frank realized that maybe he was wrong.  The size and positioning of her eyes were different than a person.  Her hearing was better, too.  She probably observed more than he did.

He shifted slightly, frowning.  Rarity was a lot more capable than he was.  Frank might need her more than she needed him.  The trick was keeping her from figuring that out.

He looked up at the stars for a few minutes before closing his eyes.






> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

At first light, Rarity and Frank went through what was becoming their morning ritual.  After rubbing down and saddling up, Frank climbed into the saddle and they got ready to go.

Of course, it might have helped if one of them had bothered to check the nearby area for indians.

There were perhaps a dozen men on horses arranged in a loose circle around their campsite.  The riders were decidedly more rugged than most of the people Rarity had seen so far, with darker skin and longer hair.  Several were shirtless.  Most had decorated their faces with  paint.

Frank whispered something that was probably a swear as the imposing circle of people drew closer.  Rarity felt his body tense as he looked around, trying to keep eyes on the whole group.

Rarity had no idea what he was worried about, but realized that maybe she should.  What she didn’t know could kill her, and she decided that perhaps she would follow Frank’s lead on this one.

Ever the perfectionist, Rarity quickly ran through her plan of action in case she needed it.  The shiny guns were holstered on either side of the saddle horn and she could quickly access them.  Rarity hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but being prepared never hurt anypony.  Well, not the one who was prepared, anyway.

The circle of riders had stopped close enough to speak comfortably.  Frank decided he was looking at a group of Comanche or maybe Apache.  One of them who had more jewelry than the others spoke.  “That is a very pretty little pony you have.”

Well, that was nice of him.  Rarity almost batted her eyes in appreciation before realizing that it would not be as glamourous since her makeup and false lashes had come off.  Also, it might blow her cover.

“What are you doing out here?”

It was not uncommon for at least a few of them to speak English.  Frank replied, “We’re just passing through, headed southwest.”

That comment did not seem to go over well, but not in the way he expected.  Questioning looks were traded around the circle.  The one who had spoken glanced in the direction Frank had indicated.  “Well then.”

None of them had yet made any untoward moves, and Frank grew slightly more bold.  “What’s the news?  Is there something wrong?”

“Strange things.”

They didn’t elaborate further, just turned their horses and began to leave.  The leader paused.  “Oh, and cowboy?  Don’t call you and your pony ‘we.’  It makes you sound crazy.”

Frank and Rarity stood there quietly as the group rode away.  When they were well out of earshot, she asked, “Indians?”

“Yes.”

“They aren’t nearly as bad as you made them out to be.”

“I’m a little more worried about what had them spooked.  They know this land; they see things.  And if they called something strange, you’d better believe it.”

“You seem to have a great respect for a group of people you don’t get along with,” Rarity observed.

With an annoyed tone, Frank asked, “Can we talk about something else?”

“Well, what else is there?  And isn’t the warning of ‘strange things’ rather noteworthy?  You said so yourself.”

“We can’t exactly talk about something we don’t know the first thing about,” he reminded her.

“Fine, we’ll look for clues,” Rarity huffed.  “You can ask around the next town we come to.”  She started to walk.

“I think there’s another coal stop a few miles away,” Frank said.

The morning passed slowly, each of them lost in their own thoughts.  Despite what had happened, Rarity noticed that Frank seemed a little less standoffish this day.  His change in attitude was welcome, although she hadn’t detected exactly what might have caused it.  Perhaps that was why their encounter earlier had gone so smoothly - he was just generally in a good mood.  Rarity mentally shrugged.  Whatever it was, she preferred it to struggling against him.

As the sun rose, it revealed that the land was starting to turn more sandy, gradually fading into a more pure form of desert.  Rarity groaned inwardly at the revelation but knew that she would not have many problems except having to eat more cactus.  She did worry a bit about Frank.  

Up ahead, there was a glint of sunlight on steel tracks.  Rarity traced the rails with her eyes, spotting a few small, rough structures huddled together in the distance.  She sighed.  It was going to be another one of those settlements.

The two of them arrived in town just as the noon sun was peaking.  Frank found them some shade beneath the water tank that served the railroad.

“I think I’ll go over to the saloon and ask around about Teal Jack’s gang,” he decided.  Frank turned to walk across the street but a nicker from Rarity make him turn.

“May I have a smoke?” she asked quietly enough that only he could hear.

Thinking it was good to keep her pleased, Frank set Rarity up with a cigarette and her fancy holder.  Rarity didn’t like him doing things for her.  She was perfectly capable of rolling her own tobacco papers.  However, Rarity had to admit that in public she had to accept Frank’s help.  That didn’t mean she had to like it.

Crossing the street, Frank glanced at the horses lined up at the saloon’s hitching rail.  Starting into the saloon, he stopped and looked again.  The scabbard on one saddle held a very distinctive rifle. He looked at it for a long moment.

In the shade, Rarity saw Frank look up from his inspection of someone’s saddle.  His brow was creased with concern.  She was not stupid, and had already learned to pay attention to the little things.  Perhaps, she thought, they had run into another member of the gang.

Frank pushed through the saloon door and moved along to the bar.  While it would have been effective to stand at the front of the room and look at who was there, it would have also opened him up to the same kind of scrutiny.  He sat at the end of the bar and dropped one of the coins Rarity had taken from Clay Dixon’s gear.  “Rye.”

The bartender picked up the coin and replaced it with whiskey.  Figuring the money had also bought him some conversation, Frank asked, “What’s new in town?”

“If you could call it a town,” the man replied good naturedly.  He checked his pocket watch.  “The train is due here shortly, if you’re getting on.”

Frank shook his head and the bartender moved away.  Turning his gaze as if to follow the movement, Frank glanced down the length of the bar and spotted Thomas Landy sitting there.

Landy was a big man who moved with slow, careful motions.  There was a half-empty glass on the bar in front of him and a thin book in his hands.  He was perhaps the quietest of Teal Jack’s gang, and had also killed more men than any other.

Frank only knew him because he recognized Landy’s face from the robbery.  The rifle in the scabbard outside was more distinctive than the man himself.  Together, Landy and his weapon had killed sixteen men, if the wanted posters were to be believed.

Finishing his whiskey, Frank went out the door.

Passing Landy’s horse again, Frank took another look at the rifle.  It was a Sharps, with target sights, double set triggers, and a long, heavy barrel.  Landy did not carve notches in the stock, although that would have been fitting his murderous image.  Stories of such macabre decoration were usually embellished, however, and would have been a dead giveaway that someone was a killer.

Frank returned to Rarity, noting that her cigarette had only half turned to ash.  Quietly, he told her what he knew.  Landy was apparently not as much for partying as Clay Dixon.  He did not drink as much.  It would probably be more difficult to get him alone to pull the same stunt they had on Dixon.

There was a slight upside.  Landy could not bring his rifle to bear in close quarters, and only carried one nondescript pistol on his hip.

But, Rarity thought, it begged the question.  Did they need to talk to this dangerous man?  Could they not ask someone else where the gang had gone?  Frank, however, seemed determined.

He began to lay out in his mind the way to go about apprehending Landy.  The man was more careful than Clay Dixon and probably smarter.  He was also quite a bit larger, so while they wanted to get him in close quarters to dissuade the use of his rifle, too close would also be a problem.

Rarity nudged Frank and he followed her gaze across the street where Landy was coming out of the saloon.  He got on his horse and turned to leave town.  Frank gritted his teeth.  He didn’t have a plan yet, and now there was no more time to form one.

He mounted up and Rarity turned to follow Landy.  She glanced back at Frank, looking concerned.

They left town.  Rarity and Frank kept about fifty yards behind Landy.  Frank let his gaze drift, in case the outlaw checked his backtrail and got suspicious that someone was staring at him.

Sure enough, Landy looked back before too many minutes had passed.  He seemed surprised at the hat-wearing pony behind him, only looking at Frank a few seconds later.  Rarity kept walking along, pretending to be just a regular pony.

Landy didn’t look back again, and Frank breathed easier.  Up ahead, the trail dipped and weaved, and in the distance there was a dust cloud slowly drawing closer.  Perhaps it was a wagon or a few horses riding together.

Rarity was trotting now to keep up.  They maintained the separation to Landy’s horse, perhaps slipping to a bit more than fifty yards away.

Up ahead, a one-horse wagon crewed by two men resolved itself out of the dust.  As it got closer, Landy lifted a hand in greeting and the men returned it.  He vanished into the dust cloud behind the wagon.

Rarity felt Frank shift slightly and heard a piece of cloth flutter out.  She held her breath and squinted as they passed into the dust cloud.  Visibility was temporarily cut to just a few feet, but as the cloud settled they came out the other side.

Landy was nowhere to be seen.  Frank took his handkerchief from his face where he’d used it to block the dust and looked around wildly.  Rarity turned and they spotted Landy back up the trail.  He’d used the cloud to move to the side and let them ride right past.

Landy shot them a look and then took off back towards town at a gallop.  His pistol came out, and as he drew even with the wagon he fired a shot into the horse’s side.  The animal reared up in pain and fear, tipping the wagon and spilling the two men out.

A moment of shock passed.  Frank didn’t need to tell Rarity to get moving, although he didn’t know if she could keep up with a full sized horse.  Far on the horizon, he saw a plume of black smoke that marked the approach of the train.  They had been set up.  Landy was going to get aboard and had lured them out of town with the intent of losing them.

Rarity galloped back towards town, but as they passed the wrecked wagon Frank piled off.

Rarity slid to a halt.  “What are you doing?” she demanded, not bothering to stay covert.  “Aren’t we going to go after him?”

“We ain’t going to catch him,” Frank retorted.  “He planned this whole thing.”

Frank turned to the dying horse.  It lay on its side, bleeding heavily and breathing hard.  The wagon was smashed, and both passengers were pinned beneath what remained.

“We should go while we still can!” Rarity insisted.  Frank ignored her, crouching to get his hands under the edge of the wagon.

He strained, but wasn’t able to lift it.  Shifting his position, Frank tried again but made no progress.  “Rarity, help me with this.”

“But aren’t we-”

Frank gave her a look that would kill a rattlesnake.  Rarity closed her mouth and hurried over.  There were faint pleas for assistance coming from under the wagon, and Rarity reprimanded herself.  Callously abandoning those in need of help was not how the Element of Generosity should act.

Finding a coil of rope in the wreckage, Frank tied it to an axle.  Rarity thought about using magic to lift the wagon, but while she had fine control and the ability to manipulate several objects simultaneously, raw power had never been her forte.

Taking the end of the rope, Frank wrapped it a few turns around the saddle horn.  So that’s what it’s for, Rarity had time to note.  She backed off until the rope was tight and then threw her weight against it.  It was a bit of a struggle, but she managed to lift the wagon enough for the trapped men to crawl out.  They were shaken up and understandably unhappy.

“Are you able to walk to town?” Frank asked, unwinding the rope.

“I reckon,” replied one.  He looked around forlornly.  “Thanks, I guess.”

Frank got in the saddle and Rarity started back towards town.  In the distance, a faint whistle cut through the air.  The train had arrived.

“We aren’t going to get there before it leaves,” Frank muttered.

“How much time to we have?” Rarity asked.

“A few minutes, maybe.”

She measured the distance with her eyes.  He was right, they probably wouldn’t make it.  “But we have to try.”

Frank pulled his hat low and gripped the saddle.  “Let’s go.”




> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity did not consider herself to be athletic.  Sure, she did some toning exercises now and again, but that didn’t really help when she was forced to gallop at full tilt across the desert with an uncouth primate on her back.

Frank had not made things any easier.  His legs were tight around Rarity’s barrel and he kept prodding her to go faster with his heels.  She put aside her complaints for the moment, but fully intended on giving him a lecture later.

The town was still distant, although much closer than before.  The cloud of smoke thrown up by the idling steam engine was like a beacon drawing them in.  Frank kept his head low, peering out from under his hat.  Rarity was not the fastest mount he’d ever ridden, but she had heart.  Everything had to count in a moment like this.  The pace was not backing off, and she struggled through her fatigue.

There came the sound of two long whistles.  The train was ready to depart.

While Rarity might not have understood the exact code of the signal, the way Frank tensed indicated that their time was up.  She threw everything she had into sprinting.

They were coming up on the tracks at an oblique angle, drawing closer to the train as it began to gather speed.  The train was mixed, with passenger cars separated from others carrying freight.  Near the middle were two flatbed cars, one loaded with a pile of logs and the other carrying what looked like some sort of machinery covered with a tarp.

It was the tarped car Rarity was closest to, and with one final effort she managed to jump aboard.  There was just enough room at the end of the flatbed for her to land, but she didn’t managed to remain upright.

Frank grunted in pain as she fell on top of him and rolled.  It was lucky Rarity wasn’t horse-sized or he might have been crushed outright.  Rarity quickly scrambled to get up, while Frank lay there for several seconds wheezing.

“I swear, Frank, if you ever use spurs on me again…” Rarity panted, catching her breath.  Frank didn’t respond, clutching at his abdomen.  Anger melting, Rarity bent her head to down with concern, tentatively poking him with a hoof.  “Are you all right?”  

Frank winced and his fingers tentatively slid over his chest and sides.  “I might have broken some ribs.”

He struggled to rise, going slowly to deal with the pain.  Rarity nudged her head under his shoulder and let him lean on her.  They both swayed as the train moved, continuing to pick up speed.

“Where do we go from here?” Rarity asked.  She looked forward and back.  The two flatbed cars where they had ended up were located between taller cars containing cargo and passengers.

“We want to find Thomas Landy, but if he sees us on the train there could be a problem.  Inside a crowded passenger car is not the place for a shootout.”  Frank frowned.  

“What if we approach him when he gets off the train?” Rarity suggested.

“That could work,” Frank agreed.  “Although we’ll have to be careful that he doesn’t spot us before then at a stop along the way.”

After a moment, Rarity added, “And speaking of being spotted, we don’t have tickets.”

Frank shrugged.  “We’ll pay for ‘em whenever we get the chance.”

The conversation lulled for a moment.  Frank walked a few steps away, leaning on the tarped load that rested in the center of the car.  Rarity took a look at the landscape.  It was just as flat, arid, and featureless as before.  “Do you know where this train is going?”

“Maybe Roswell.  It’s the only decent-sized city in these parts.”  Frank was about to elaborate when the door to the nearest passenger car slid open to reveal Thomas Landy.  Unlike Frank and Rarity, he did not look surprised.

Landy crossed the short gap from one car to the other, his pistol out and held level.  Raising his voice above the wind and noise of the train, he called to Frank, “Why are you after me?”

“Just hoping to meet up with Teal Jack again,” Frank replied, doing his best to project his voice through the pain in his ribs that spiked every time he took a breath.  He straightened from where he leaned, his hands dropping slightly towards his gunbelt.  “He robbed me a few days back.”

“I know,” Landy retorted.  “I’d be an idiot if I didn’t recognize that hat your pony’s wearing.  On top of that, forgetting faces is never a good idea in my line of work.  Trust me, I remember very well that I met you a few days ago.  But that doesn’t explain why you’d do a fool thing like come after me.”

“I want Teal Jack,” Frank said.  “Just tell me where he is.”

Landy shrugged.  “Don’t know.  We split.”

“Why?”

Landy considered that for a moment before deciding to reply.  “Hanging out with Teal Jack any longer was going to have an effect on my mental health.  After what happened with that flash of light and that big diamond he picked up, I decided the best thing was to get away from him and get some time to myself.”

He glanced sideways at Rarity, who stood closer to him than Frank.  Landy paused, as if aware that something wasn’t quite right about her.  He stared for a moment and muttered, “Speaking of that diamond…”

He started to raise the gun and Rarity reacted instinctively, whipping a hoof at his face.  Her flexibility was so unexpected and the blow so powerful that Landy was knocked off his feet and landed heavily on the deck of the car.

It took him only an instant to roll and get back up, but that was all the time Rarity needed to swap ends and line up her hind legs.  She bucked him in the gut, the force folding his body and casting him into the air off the moving train.

There was silence for a moment as Rarity straightened up and looked from the edge of the car to Frank and back again.  “Good heavens!  I didn’t mean…”

“Well, I’m just glad you didn’t underreact,” Frank said.  He didn’t go on, having a hard time resolving his thoughts on the matter.  Rarity was strong enough to casually throw around man, or, like she had proven before boarding the train, to lift an overturned wagon, yet she didn’t seem to be fully aware that it gave her yet another advantage over people, and him especially.  Perhaps Frank was lucky that he hadn’t encountered a pony less ladylike.

Rarity took a deep breath and sat down.  “I hope he’s all right.”

“I doubt it,” muttered Frank.  “The train’s doing at least sixty and even if the fall didn’t kill him, he’s stuck out here with no supplies and no horse.”

“Well, at least I feel bad about it!” she shot back.  “I’m having a very hard time trying to regulate my emotions.  So far from home, so far from my friends and family, I’m simply not acting like myself.  It’s worrying.  I’m concerned that perhaps with none of them to influence me, I’m reverting to more primitive ways.”

Frank nodded.  “I think I know what you mean.  When I came out here, I knew I would be alone.  I had to set some rules for myself.”

The Code of the West, Rarity realized.  It sounded so simple, but if it worked…  She shook her head.  “I apologize.  I understand that things are different here, but I can’t compromise what I believe in.  It’s what my friends would want.  I’ll do my best from now on.”

She was mostly talking to herself, but it helped resolve things.  Seeming content with her revelation, Rarity’s face relaxed.

The door slid open again.  “Thomas, are you out here?”

Rarity, sitting with her back to the door, looked to the voice.  Clay Dixon had come out of the passenger car.  He wore a long leather duster that, like the rest of his clothes, looked fancy and well tooled.

Dixon must have robbed someone else to get his hands on both the coat and a train ticket.  Rarity was sure that during their first encounter with the man she and Frank had taken the money Dixon had on him.

Not that it mattered now.  Dixon was here, and Rarity had been caught sitting down.  If Dixon had come looking for Landy, then chances were good that Landy had told him what he knew about Rarity and Frank.

Not seeing Landy anywhere, but spotting Rarity and Frank, Dixon’s hand flashed to the side, clearing his coat back from his holster.

Frank saw the man standing just a few feet from Rarity as she began to rise.  There was a sparkle of magic from under her hat, but he didn’t know if she would be able to react in time.  Frank had gone for his own gun as soon as the door opened and was already leveling his pistol as Dixon grabbed iron.

The gun in Frank’s hand fired five times, as fast as he could fan the hammer.  Dixon jerked, blood blooming across the front of his shirt.  He staggered, his pistol clanking to the deck.  His mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out as he fell forward.  

Frank was already reloading, shoving cartridges into his gun as he advanced, doing his best to ignore the pain in his ribs.  Dixon didn’t move.  Frank reached the limp body and stopped, looking at five holes in the back of Dixon’s coat.

Rarity stepped up beside Frank, her mouth pressed into a thin line.  Frank finished reloading and holstered his gun.  He knelt and rolled Dixon over.  The man was dead.

Frank let out a breath he’d been holding practically since the shooting started.  He took a step back and looked away.

“I had no idea your hands were that fast,” Rarity commented, her voice just barely audible over the sounds of the train.  Frank glanced at her but said nothing.  He turned and moved a few steps away.

Rarity gingerly lifted Dixon’s body with magic and pulled back his coat, taking a quick glance over the man’s front.  The five bullet holes were spread in a pattern a little larger than her hoof.

She quickly checked for anything valuable and then rolled the body over the edge of the car.  If Frank heard the thump Dixon’s boots made as they left the speeding train, he didn’t show it.

Rarity set her eyes on the fine coat she’d saved at the last moment.  It was a simple matter to clean the blood from it and once she got a feel for the leather it took a slightly more complicated spell to mend the holes seamlessly.

After inspecting her work, Rarity folded the coat neatly.  She turned and walked to where Frank had taken up station by the machinery in the center of the car.  She presented him with the long duster.

He held it for a moment and then looked at her.  “You’re giving me something from a dead man?”

“Do you have something against letting things go to waste?” she asked.  “And how is this different from me wearing a saddle taken from a dead horse?”

Frank unfolded the coat, running his fingers over the leather.  He noted that there were no longer any holes in it and glanced at Rarity before turning it around and putting his arms through the sleeves.

Rarity nodded in satisfaction.  “That’s exactly the fashion I was thinking you would look good in.  We’ll still need to get you cleaned up, but you’re looking much better already.  Fabulous!”

Frank stared at her for a moment before a grin worked its way across his face and he cracked up laughing.  The situation - a unicorn had just given him an expensive coat and told him that he looked fashionable - was just so ridiculous.  It helped take the weight of the gun fight off his mind.

Rarity allowed herself a laugh, but as the door to the passenger car again slid open she abruptly changed to amused whinnys.

A bookish-looking conductor, appearing out of place on a western train, looked out of the doorway.  He took in Frank, Rarity, and the spot of blood left on the deck of the flatcar.

“What are you doing out here?” he called.

“Just stretching my legs.”  Frank walked closer.

“I heard shooting,” the conductor said.

“I’m sure you did.”  Frank moved his hands slowly and took out some money.  “Now, how much are tickets?”




> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The train continued on, and from Rarity’s perspective, it seemed that the ride would take forever.  She’d been moved to the livestock car, and the smell was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

She at least had the tobacco and rolled herself a smoke, careful not to drop any burning ash in the straw on the floor of the car.  The collection of horses riding in the car all seemed puzzled by her.

Rarity slowly toured the train car, looking for the freshest air.  After she and Frank and bought passage on the train, she had been tied like common livestock, but it was easy enough to get the knot loose.

Pausing to tap the ash off her cigarette through a slat in the wall of the car, Rarity spotted a horse she recognized.  Walking closer, she saw that it belonged - or rather, had belonged - to Thomas Landy.

It seemed only natural to inspect the contents of the saddlebags.  Rarity perused the items inside the one closest to her.  There were a few things of interest, notably a shave kit.

Walking around the horse to get at the other saddlebag, Rarity spotted a fine-looking rifle in its saddle scabbard. She bent her head to get a closer look.

While Rarity was distracted, the horse took the presented opportunity to lean down and clamp his teeth on her mane.

“Eek!  Why are you-!”  Rarity struggled in an attempt to get free, but she had neither the will to tear her mane out nor the leverage to pull away.  Remembering the razor in the shave kit, she fumbled for it.  Bringing the sharp edge up, she reluctantly sliced off a piece of her mane, freeing herself.

The horse snorted and reached forward again, but Rarity moved away, stumbling slightly with the movement of the train.  Grumbling, Rarity gave the horse an unpleasant look and blew a puff of smoke in his direction.

She took the small mirror from the shave kit.  A few minutes’ work allowed her to fix her mane, evening it out.  It was not the way she liked it, but then, it hadn’t been properly styled since she’d arrived here and been separated from her favorite shampoos.

Rarity stowed the shave kit in her own saddlebags as she felt the train begin to slow down.  Looking out through the slats on the walls of the cars, she stared out at a reasonably sized town.  Hopefully this was Roswell and she could disembark this dreadful livestock car.

The train came to rest and Rarity retied the rope around her neck to the grommet where she had originally been positioned.  She could hear people moving around outside the livestock car.  The door slid open and horse owners began claiming their steeds.  Frank collected Rarity and led her out of the car.

She was easily the cleanest creature to emerge from the car, having obsessively stayed away from any source of dirt during the ride.  Rarity’s bright coat, fancy saddle, and distinctive hat drew attention as she walked through the crowd of people waiting at the station.  She couldn’t help but to strut a little.  Frank rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath.

They walked down the street, heading away from the station.  Eager to see anyplace that wasn’t a hovel in the middle of the desert, Rarity kept her head moving, taking in the sights.  

There was more civilization here, she saw.  A few women were around, and some were even dressed rather nicely.  The buildings were no taller than a story or two, but that still showed more wealth and building expertise than in the shacks assembled at coal and water stops.

Frank walked slowly, apparently still sore in his ribs.  Rarity had already apologized for falling on him.  At least it seemed that nothing was broken, cracked at worst.

Rarity had gone back to looking at the town.  This was the best example she had seen so far of human living, and it gave her a better idea of the upper limits of what she could find on this planet.  It didn’t seem that they had anything to outdo her own fashion, however.

She was so distracted with taking in the sights that she missed a pile of horse apples in the street and stepped in it squishily.

Frank saw the look on her face and threw an arm around her withers, steering the two of them over to the side of the street before Rarity could shriek in despair.  She dragged her hooves in an attempt to scrape them clean, getting some dirt on her but preferring that to the alternative.

“Not sure what the big deal is,” Frank muttered as he watched her wiping off the worst of it.  “So I take it there isn’t manure lying around all over the place where you’re from?”

“Certainly not!” Rarity hissed, keeping her voice low.  “We have spells for that!”

Frank’s eyebrows went up, but she continued.  “And even if we didn’t, where I come from we have running water and indoor commodes, thank you very much.”

“Huh, fancy,” Frank replied, putting the matter aside.  Now that they were off the train and out of the crowds, he took a moment to look Rarity over.  It was his habit, not trusting anyone else - especially not the railroad - to return his mount to him in pristine condition.  

Rarity had grown accustomed to his inspections by now, but it still felt like she was receiving a checkup at the doctor’s office.  While she appreciated his attention, it annoyed her that he was still treating her like a horse, as if she couldn’t just tell him if something was wrong with her.  She swished her tail in annoyance.

Frank caught the gesture and glanced at her.  He moved around to Rarity’s other side and his eyes fell on the rifle she had strapped to her saddle.  “Where did this come from?  Is this Landy’s rifle?”

“It is.  I saw no reason to let it go to waste.”

Frank pulled the weapon out of its scabbard and held it for a moment, his fingers doing as much inspecting as his eyes.  It was a fine rifle, he’d known that the first time he’d seen it.  This was not a production-line piece, but rather something special.  It was a shame that Landy had primarily used it for killing, but that didn’t change the fact of the quality craftsmanship.

Working the lever to lower the breech block, Frank had a look down the bore of the barrel and checked the stamping on the outside.  He whistled.  “A Sharps rifle chambered in .50-90 is practically a cannon you can carry!  This rifle will kill anything that walks on land.”

Rarity looked at the weapon.  “I don’t see a reloading mechanism.”

“There isn’t one; it’s single-shot.  Of course, with the accuracy and power of a rifle like this, that isn’t a problem.  Fellow I heard about named Billy Dixon killed an indian from almost a mile away with one of these things.”

“You’re welcome,” Rarity broke in.

“What?” asked Frank, looking up from the rifle.

“You seem to appreciate it more than I do,” she said, giving him a look.  “But I got it for you since I noticed you admiring it back when we first encountered Mr. Landy.”

“Oh.”  Frank paused.  “Thanks.”

Rarity’s lip twitched but she didn’t call him out on his lack of gratitude.  She may have been the Element of Generosity, but she thrived on praise like any soul.  Frank did not seem particularly keen to hand it out for just anything, however.

They continued down the street, passing a barber shop.  Rarity glanced at it and then took a look at Frank’s face.  He hadn’t shaved since before they met, and apparently hadn’t done a good job of it then.  That would have to change, she decided.

They passed the sheriff's office.  A few wanted posters were on display, notably Billy the Kid.  Rarity saw that he was credited with as many as twenty one murders, one for every year he’d been alive.  

How horrible!  What could lead someone to do that? she wondered.  Granted, maybe the charges were embellished, but this Billy or any outlaw like him, what got them started?

Rarity looked again at Frank.  He’d put five bullets in Clay Dixon in less time than it took to tell about it.  Was something like that a cause for a life of crime?  Or...could it be an effect?  Frank had never told her about what he did before they met.

She considered it for a moment more and then quietly put that thought away.  Frank may not have earned her unwavering trust, but he at least deserved the benefit of the doubt.

There was a two story building up ahead with a sign out front that indicated that it was a hotel.  Rarity nudged Frank and gave him a smile.

“Well, I guess I wouldn’t mind staying in an actual bed for the night, but what about you?” he asked.  “I think there’s a livery barn out back.”

She gave him a look.  “Just get a room with two beds.  I’ll figure it out.”

Frank stared at her for a moment and then shrugged.  Rarity indicated to him which saddle bag contained the money and after collecting some cash he went into the hotel.

A few minutes later he came back with a room key.  “Got one on the ground floor, if that helps.”

“Does the window open?”

“Don't know; haven’t seen the room yet.”  Frank grabbed his pack off the saddle.  “Anyway, I’m going in.” 

“And leave me here?”

“You said you’d figure it out.  Is that supposed to mean something else?”

Rarity fumed for a bit, but was too proud to take back what she had said, at least not yet.  Frank disappeared into the hotel and she stood for a moment, considering her options.

A slow walk around the building revealed no other doors.  The windows did open, however, and Frank’s room was easy to find.  He had helpfully slid up the sash before she got there.

It was not easy, however, to climb inside, especially with a saddle, but Rarity managed.   She made it inside and stood for a moment to take in her surroundings.  The room was very small and sparsely furnished.  As advertised, there were indeed two beds.  That was about it.

Frank had collected a bucket of water before settling in.  There was a small bar of soap and a towel.  The room contained no facilities, and Rarity wondered if that meant there was a restroom somewhere nearby or if it was all outside.  She gritted her teeth.  So uncivilized.

It was, however, better than spending another night outside.  Rarity had a seat on one of the beds.  It sagged under her weight and she frowned.  Such a mattress would not provide very good support, although it had to be softer than sleeping on the ground.

Frank shut the curtains to block out a little of the setting sun.  Rarity unbuckled her saddle and laid it down, poking through the saddlebags and taking inventory.  Shave kit and razor, some money, cartridges for their various weapons, a small penknife, a few other miscellaneous items.

Frank cleaned a little trail dust from his face, using water but not soap.  He dried off and headed for the door.  “I’m going to go see if there’s anything interesting in town.  It’s large enough that I bet there is.”

Rarity arched an eyebrow at him.  “And what does that mean?”

Frank raised his hands.  “Hey, I’ll take care of myself.  It’s just that after roughing it for a couple of days, I feel like a little fun.”

Rarity kept up with her disapproving look.

“I might be able to find out if anyone’s seen Teal Jack,” Frank pointed out.  “If he’s a womanizer, I’ll just have to find the right woman.  If he’s a gambler, I might be able to find the right players.  If he drank, the bartender might remember.”

“And I suppose you’ll have to partake in each of those as well?” Rarity questioned.

Frank shrugged.  “Yeah, maybe.”

“If you must.  While I don’t think I can help with your efforts to drink and gamble, I might be able to help you with the women.”  Rarity stood up and brought out the razor.  “Come over here and hold still.”




> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frank protested, but did eventually submit to having a shave.  Rarity used a simple spell to heat the water and used it to rub soap into his scraggly beard.  It was not a perfect solution, but would help the razor slide smoothly over his skin as it should.

The blade was shiny, probably plated for corrosion resistance.  Frank’s eyes tracked it suspiciously, unwilling to close his eyes and relax as Rarity suggested.  He sat still on his bed, bracing as if he expected her to cut him.

“I’m always very careful when it comes to grooming,” Rarity assured him.  “Just don’t disturb me when I’m in the zone.”

She concentrated hard and began to gently slice the excess of whiskers from his face.  Her deft touch with magic made the job go quickly, and very cleanly.

“I think that should do the trick.”  Rarity smiled and wiped the extra soap away.  Frank felt his face, as if relieved that he still had it.  He stood up, edging away from the razor.

Rarity frowned.  “Don’t you like what I did for you?”

“It’s nice.”  Frank got up and headed for the door.  “Thanks.”

He went out and shut the door behind him.  On the other side of it, he thought he heard Rarity snort in annoyance.  Frank sighed quietly and went on his way.

He didn’t want Rarity to think he owed her something.  The things she had been doing for him were appreciated to be sure, but he hadn’t asked for them.  The last thing he wanted was to be under her figurative thumb for repayment of favors.

Frank exited the hotel and stood in the street for a moment, watching the sun set over the rooftops.  Shaved and with a new coat, he thought it was less likely he would be recognized.  If any of Teal Jack’s gang was in town, he’d rather get the drop on them rather than the other way around.

He frowned as he thought about it.  Rarity wearing Teal Jack’s distinctive hat had given her away.  They might have to do something about that.

A few coins jingled in Frank’s pocket and he debated finding a haberdashery, if this town had one.  But what would happen if he got her a gift?  Would she consider them even, or think he was pandering to her?

Frank shook his head in frustration and started towards the saloon.  Pushing open the doors, he walked in and crossed the floor, taking a seat at a small table against the back wall.  A waitress came out from behind the bar and approached.  “What can I get you?”

“Whatever’s cooking,” Frank replied, glancing at the kitchen doors.  He paused, considering his money, then added, “Plus a bottle of decent whiskey.”

The waitress walked away.  While Frank waited, he glanced around.  There were certainly many things to be had here.  Liquor, cards, prostitutes.  A man could spend a lot of time and money here.

Frank looked for familiar faces while attempting to hide his own.  There was a possibility that Teal Jack was here in town.  It was a large enough settlement to have a jeweler, if he was looking to trade in Rarity’s diamond.

“Here you are,” said the waitress, setting a plate down.  It had tortillas, ground beef and refried beans.

“What’s this?” Frank asked.

“The Mexicans call them tacos.”  She put down a bottle of whiskey and a glass, then left for another customer.

After figuring out how to eat them, Frank decided that tacos were pretty good.  The whiskey wasn’t bad, either.  Not letting himself get distracted by the food, however, he kept his eyes moving around the room.

Frank finished quickly and picked up the bottle.  He went to the bar and asked the waitress for an order to go.  “Another few tacos, but with no meat.”

The look on her face said that it was a strange order, but she went to the kitchen to fetch it while Frank waited.  He turned from the bar, facing the room.

The door opened and a man came in.  His hat was black and pulled low, although he peered from under it to look around the inside of the saloon.  His gaze went to Frank.

The two of them held each other’s stare from across the room.  They’d met before.  Frank knew that this was Tex Taft, the right hand man of Teal Jack.  He was arguably even more dangerous than his boss.

Taft’s hands were held at his sides, within easy reach of his pistols.  The two guns were carried low, the ends of the holsters tied down to his legs to make drawing faster.

The pistols were Walch Navy revolvers, a kind not often seen, and Taft had built his reputation on them.  They were only .36 caliber cap-and-ball guns, using black powder instead of modern cartridges, but each revolver carried a staggering twelve shots.

Taft looked across the room at Frank for a moment and then eased back out the door.

“Mister?” broke in the waitress, offering Frank a couple of tacos wrapped in old newspaper.  He quickly dropped money on the bar and grabbed the food and whiskey, not pausing to get his change.

Stowing his purchases in the pockets of his coat, Frank went out the door, his hand dropping close to his gun.  The sun was behind the buildings now, and the fading light blanketed the street in shadows.  Taft was already out of sight.

Cursing under his breath, Frank started down the street. He’d gotten the tacos for Rarity, thinking of them as a kind of peace offering with her, but that would have to wait.

He went to the end of the block and had another look around.  Still not seeing Taft or anyone else he knew, Frank crossed the street and went over a block.  

Roswell was not that large of a town, but it did have a few streets to choose from.  The businesses on this avenue were all closed for the day, and there was far less foot traffic.  Frank decided to take a circuitous route back to the hotel, wanting to be careful.

There was a whisper of movement between two buildings across the street.  Frank turned his head and caught the barrel of a gun poking out of the gap.

He dove forward, barely avoiding the blast of a shotgun that slammed into the wall of the building beside him.  The buckshot had not spread much, only being fired across the street and from a long gun.

Rolling, Frank yanked his pistol and managed to get a shot off roughly in the direction of the shooter.  Getting to his feet and taking a few steps back, he fired again and then turned and put a bullet through the plate glass window of the darkened store behind him.  He dove through the opening as the shotgun roared again, missing high.

Frank hit the floor, his coat protecting him from glass.  There was another shot, and a fist-sized hole blew through the wall a few feet from him.

The fourth shotgun blast hit the wall as Frank sheltered against it, so close that splinters of wood bounced off his coat.

Taking a chance, Frank raised his head over the edge of the wall and aimed across the street.  He couldn’t see the shooter anymore and reasoned that they were reloading.  Recalling from their previous meeting outside Lubbock, Taft had been carrying a Roper repeating shotgun, which had a magazine of four rounds.

Vaulting the wall, Frank took off down the street at a run.  There were still two unfired rounds in his pistol, and while it would take time for his assailant to reload, that still left Frank uncomfortably outgunned.  He wasn’t stupid, and the choice to vacate the area was the option most likely to keep him alive.

He made the next block and swung back to the main street, slowing down and holstering his gun.  People were looking in the direction of the gunfire, and none of them seemed particularly willing to go investigate it.  Frank didn’t recall how many law officers Roswell employed, and didn’t particularly want to find out.

He made it back to the hotel and checked his coat for residual glass before entering.  In rolling around and trying to escape, the peace tacos intended for Rarity had been mostly mashed.  Frank debated telling her that it was how they were actually supposed to be served.

Frank paused outside the door to the room.  He was going to tell Rarity about the shooting, because she would probably ask.  He would probably downplay it, although he doubted he would rest easily tonight with gunmen on the loose in town.

Opening the door, Frank stopped short.  The beds were overturned and personal effects were scattered around the room.  Blood was smeared across the floor and up to the broken window.  Rarity was nowhere to be seen.

Not moving an inch from where he stood, Frank slowly glanced around the room.  Rarity’s saddle was gone, as was her hat.  A few items had spilled from her saddlebags and she hadn’t collected them.  

Frank took a few steps forward to the edge of the pool of blood.  The stains were uneven, and there were a few patterns, like a knife had been flicked around the room.  Whoever the blade had been used on had been stabbed more than once.  Frank maneuvered around the blood to the window, looking through the hole.  There was glass lying in the dirt outside and hoof prints leading away at a gallop.

Crossing the room quickly, Frank went out the door and headed to the front desk.  The clerk was there and looked up as he approached.  

“What happened to my room?” Frank demanded.

“I didn’t hear anything.”  The man’s eyes were a little wider than was really necessary.

Frank stared at the clerk for several seconds and was just about to call him out for lying when the door opened and a few men wearing stars came in.  The one in the lead approached the desk.  Frank saw from his badge that he was the sheriff.  

Flanked by his deputies, the sheriff stopped, glancing at the clerk and at Frank.  “We’re here about a murder.”




> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the sheriff and his men approached Frank about a murder, he didn’t immediately think they suspected him.  The handcuffs coming out changed his opinion.

He wanted to protest, or, barring that, to fight.  Against several lawmen, however, that would be a terrible idea.  Still, Frank’s sense of injustice was on high alert, as he was already taken into custody before they checked his room, questioned him, or even asked his name.

At least they went through the formalities of doing so afterwards.  Dragging him down the hallway, the deputies followed the sheriff to Frank’s room.  He opened the door and stopped short, apparently not actually expecting to find evidence of a crime.  Or, from the grim look he gave Frank, not nearly so much evidence.

“It looks like that wraps it up.  Put him away,” ordered the sheriff.

Frank walked willingly out of the hotel and towards the jail, just because he didn’t fancy being dragged.  He felt he should ask, “Who am I accused of murdering?”

“Go to Hell,” muttered one of the deputies.

“No, really,” Frank insisted.  “This is all news to me.”

That still didn’t get him any answers.  His concern growing, Frank was led into the jail.  The men had already taken his gun, but now they stripped him of gunbelt, hat, coat, and boots. That wasn’t a good sign.  They meant to keep him for a while.

The sheriff closed the iron cell door and locked it.  “Your trial’s in the morning.”

“Now hold on,” Frank protested.  “You can’t do something like that so fast.”

“Why not?” the sheriff asked.  “Do you know the law?”

Frank didn’t, even though he knew something wasn’t right.  That wasn’t enough for an argument, however.

The sheriff left the room, putting out the lamp and plunging Frank into darkness.

In the darkness, outside of town, sweat beaded Rarity’s flanks as she galloped hard across the desert.  Her saddle was cinched loosely, but she hadn’t had time to properly affix it while beating her hasty departure.  She hadn’t known who the intruders to the hotel room were, but felt that odds favored them being Teal Jack’s men.  Going out the window was undignified, but there simply hadn’t been time to do anything else.

Rarity knew she would need to go back into town, however.  The teleporting gem wouldn’t find itself and Roswell was apparently the closest to the gang she’d been so far.  This was an opportunity that she couldn't afford to miss.  Rarity frowned.  But how would she go about locating the gang?

It might be a good idea to get a disguise - a different one.  As much as Rarity hated to admit it, this was a situation where she should not look her best.

Rarity slowed to a trot, cooling down.  She was well outside town by now.  Despite the break in to the hotel room, it seemed that she hadn’t been pursued.  Glancing up, she checked the sky.  It had gone dark and a few stars were appearing, but the moon was not yet up.  Rarity frowned at that, but decided it must be an effect of the strange ecosystem.

Slowing to a stop, Rarity took a deep breath.  She had to admit, having Frank’s expertise would be beneficial right about now.  Regardless of how much his personality grated on her, he at least always seemed to know what to do.

Sighing, Rarity turned back towards the lights of town and sat down to think.  Did she really need him?  All she had to do was get the diamond back.  But how would she do that?  Rarity tried to form some sort of plan, mentally reviewing her advantages over the criminals. 

She had a little surprise on her side, although if she didn’t find a different hat that might not last.  She could run faster than a man, and as much as she was loathe to carry loads she was certainly stronger.  Plus the ability to use magic, that was a big advantage.  With it, she could probably handle weapons better than most people.  Adding her intelligence to the mix, and the situation really didn’t look that grim.

Rarity smiled.  Well, she wasn’t home yet, but now she was feeling better about making it happen.  All she had to do was go back to town and get started.

She got up and stretched.  Putting on a confident smile and angling her hat jauntily, she trotted back towards town.

The night passed rather slowly from the inside of a cell.  Frank did manage to sleep, but the hanging feeling of being falsely accused of murder kept him uneasy.  When the morning came, he was roused by a deputy and handcuffed.  Without much explanation, Frank was taken away from the jail to the town courthouse.

To Frank’s surprise, there was already a judge, jury, and some curious spectators present in the court room.  The sheriff was waiting as he was brought in.

“Is all this for me?” Frank asked, looking around.

“Murder trials generally get attention,” the judge answered, his voice carrying across the room.

“This is the trial?” Frank sputtered.  “So soon?  Don’t I get an opportunity for a hearing to show that there is no need?”

“We have all the required evidence,” the sheriff informed him.  “Your hotel room was sufficient for that.”

“But I wasn’t there when that happened,” Frank argued.

“Do you have a witness to corroborate your story?” the judge asked.

Frank almost said “my pony,” but decided that wouldn’t go over well.  Instead he replied, “The waitress at the saloon.  I was there just before going back to the hotel.”

“We know,” the sheriff replied acidly.  “We also know what you did to her after that.”

And the trial went downhill from there.  Protesting his innocence did little good, not that Frank was ever put on the stand to actually testify.  The evidence, such as it was, seemed compelling to the jury.  From what Frank gathered from listening to it, apparently the waitress had been murdered and her body dumped.  Based on an anonymous tip and the blood found in Frank’s room, that had been more than enough to arrest him.

It was clever, really.  If Teal Jack had actually ordered the woman’s death or merely taken advantage of an existing crime, it certainly got Frank off his back.  It was difficult to say whether he knew that Rarity was also after him.

Frank thought about her while the lawyers deliberated.  Where had she gone?  He couldn’t say for sure that she was all right, but if the blood in the hotel room was actually hers, he figured someone would have followed any trail that led away from the broken window.

But there was no way he could count on her now.  Not only wouldn’t she have any idea how, but really, what could she do?  How was a unicorn supposed to get him off the hook for a murder trial?

Frank almost missed the banging of the gavel.  “Guilty.”

“What?”  Frank looked up.

“You’ve just been convicted,” Frank’s lawyer advised, the first time he’d spoken to Frank.

“Already?” Frank demanded.  “The trial can’t be over yet!”

“It sure is,” the sheriff advised.

“And now the sentencing,” the judge said.  “The accused will be hung by the neck until dead.  Punishment will be carried out today at five o’clock.”

“So late?” the sheriff asked.  “Why not sooner?”

“Why not later?” Frank broke in.  “What if more evidence comes to light?”

“Swift trial, swift sentence,” the judge replied.  He turned to the sheriff to answer his question, “But late enough that everyone can attend.”

His gavel came down.  “Dismissed.”

Frank was unceremoniously hauled back across the street and thrown in a cell.  Before the deputy left, Frank asked, “What time is it?”

“Almost nine,” the man replied.  “You’ve got about eight hours left.”

And with that depressing piece of news, Frank was left alone.  He stood for a moment before walking to the small, barred window.  The morning sun was rising into the sky.

Across town, Rarity glanced at the sky to check the sun.  Unlike Celestia’s star, it was only a rough gauge of time.  Still, she was disappointed that she’d been unable to make any progress after spending all night on the problem.

A nap during the night had cut into her time, but really, who could expect her to do anything without a bit of beauty rest?  Although, she had to admit, sleeping in a pile of loose straw by the railroad station barely counted.

It would have to do, however.  Especially since a good portion of the day passed before Rarity got anywhere in her search.  She occasionally nibbled anything green she found on the street, but the sparse vegetation wasn’t enough to sustain her comfortably all day.

By the afternoon, she was hungry, tired, and frustrated.  But all that melted away when she caught a glimpse of the man named Teal Jack Smith.

He was down the street and standing with a few other men and their horses.  Teal Jack was bareheaded, apparently not yet having found a replacement for his distinctive hat.

Speaking of that, Rarity hid herself around the corner of a building to keep herself from being seen.  Carefully spying, Rarity saw the group mount up and ride out into the desert.

Rarity’s mouth formed into a thin line.  She came out from hiding and cantered to the edge of town.  She looked around, not seeing anyone nearby.  Despite searching all day, she hadn’t managed to find Frank.  Well, that was his misfortune.  She had her goal in front of her and she was going for it.

Rarity checked her guns and headed out after the gang.




> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity stayed far enough behind the gang that she could easily lose herself among the scrub alongside the trail or in the twisting arroyos.

The shallow water courses were dry most of the year and provided a little bit of cover.  Still, the dust cloud from several horses moving together was easy to spot.  Rarity did what she could to mitigate her own dust, adding a few spells that could be somewhat modified for the purpose.  It wasn’t a perfect solution, but she felt confident that she could remain undetected.

The sun shifted across the sky as she kept trotting.  More than an hour had passed since leaving town by the time Rarity noticed some change in her quarry’s status.  Their dust was starting to drift away and the last time she had seen the cloud it was closer than before.  Slowing her pace, Rarity continued on more carefully.

She came upon the circle of horses in just a few minutes.  The men had dismounted and appeared to be taking a break up on the rim of the arroyo.  Dropping to her belly, Rarity crawled the last few feet, keeping out of sight behind some larger rocks and cacti.

“I’m glad we’re finally leaving him behind,” one man said.  “I would never have believed he was capable of what he did, chasing us out here and killing Clay and Tom.”

“Sounds like you’re lucky to be alive, Tex,” commented another.

Rarity did not know who Tex was, but based on the muttering, she decided that he must have run into Frank.

“At least I took care of him,” muttered a voice.  “Now the magistrate’s locked him up for murder and they’re going to hang him in an hour or two.”

It was all Rarity could do not to gasp.  Was that what had happened to Frank?

“Tell me again how you managed that,” one of the voices went on.

“Well, it was pretty simple to grab that waitress I saw him talking to.  Pretty simple to get her over to his hotel room and cut her throat, too.”

Dread began to pool in Rarity’s stomach.  If the authorities thought Frank had done that, he was clearly in serious trouble.  Had they really framed him for murder?  And the execution was going to be so soon?

“Hey, what’s that?” asked one of the bandits, and Rarity tensed, thinking she had been found.

“Just the purse.  That waitress didn’t need it anymore.  Got some makeup inside, but not much money.”

“Idiot!  Get rid of that!  Part of throwing suspicion off is not keeping evidence!”

The men talked for a few more minutes before mounting up and leaving again.  Rarity came out of hiding.  She picked up the purse and stowed it in her saddlebags.  It seemed wrong to just let it lie there.

Going after the gang was more dangerous than before.  Not only had they left the system of arroyos to head for flatter country, but clearly they were not above killing a female in cold blood.  Rarity gritted her teeth.  But they still have to be stopped.

However, what about Frank?  Rarity had evidence that he had been wrongly convicted of murder.  She couldn’t just let him be executed.

But what about going after the gang?  She had never been so close to them, and before they got too far away, Rarity could easily catch up.

And do what?  Face so many men by myself?  Rarity realized that perhaps her plan to follow the gang deep into the desert had not been thoroughly thought out.

And if what they said about Frank was true, then she’d need to hurry to get back to Roswell.  Not knowing exactly how much time she had before the hanging motivated Rarity to move quickly.  She galloped back in the direction she’d come.

If she’d paused to think about it, Rarity might have found it strange that she was rushing to save the life of someone she’d known for only about a week and didn’t really like.  However, would she have let injustice stand even if she detested Frank?  No, it simply wouldn’t be right.  And, if he knew she’d done him the most supreme of favors, maybe he would be a little nicer to her.

It was a long, hard run but Rarity reached the town within a few dozen minutes.  There was a gallows set up in the center of town.  She initially feared that she was too late, but a man appeared to be putting a rope up, not taking it down.

The logical place to find Frank would be the local prison.  Rarity located it within a few minutes.  She determined that at least one deputy was on duty.  Even talking to Frank through the barred window would probably attract attention.

Rarity frowned, considering the problem.  She didn’t want to reveal herself by just walking in and demanding that Frank be released.  She had the dead woman’s purse, but wasn’t sure what that would prove by itself.  With a little more time, she might be able to come up with enough evidence to get the trail reopened.

But, as a few men approached the jail, Rarity realized her time had run out.  The group entered the building and came out in a few minutes with Frank shackled and walking between them.

From across the street, Rarity made sure she caught Frank’s eye.  He looked for a moment and a brief smile came to his face before turning his eyes forward and feigning sullenness.

Now that he thinks I have a plan, Rarity thought, I actually have to come up with one.  She stood and watched the group of men as they took Frank to the gallows.  A few people had showed up, and as Rarity watched more appeared.

Rarity glanced at the jail and crossed the street, sidling up to the door.  If any of Frank’s personal effects were still inside, he would want them.  She opened the door and stuck her head in, making a quick sweep with her eyes.  There was a pistol and gunbelt lying on the blotter table.  It looked like Frank’s Schofield, so she grabbed the weapon and holster, stowing them in a saddlebag.

Now all Rarity had to do was actually figure out how to rescue Frank before he was hung.  She took a few steps closer to the gathering crowd, nervously attempting to come up with a plan.  By now, there was no way to be subtle about it.  Whatever she did, it had to work the first time.

The noose was made and placed over Frank’s head.  He stood squinting, the afternoon sun in his eyes.  Rarity sized up the platform, noting how it appeared to function by dropping the victim through a trapdoor, presumably to break his neck.

“This man was tried for murder.  Death was the sentence given to the accused.”  The last few people gathered around Frank stepped to opposite sides of the platform.  The sheriff reached for the trapdoor lever.

Rarity yanked one of her long-barreled Colts and rushed forward.  The crowd had packed tightly around the platform and she knocked a few of them aside, lining up what had to be her most precise shot to date.

The pistol fired just as Frank began to fall, the bullet splitting the rope perfectly.  Rarity ducked beneath the platform and caught him on her back without stopping.

Frank sat still for a moment, as if in disbelief that he was still alive.  Rarity ran hard, intending to leave the town behind before anyone could organize an effort to go after them.

Frank took a deep breath and turned his head.  “That was some very good timing, Rarity.”

She may have had to save his life in order to get it, but the compliment was clearly heartfelt.  Rarity winked.  “Of course, darling.”



> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rarity was able to follow her own trail well enough to get back to where she had left Teal Jack’s gang.  From there, Frank could follow the tracks and keep them moving along in pursuit.

The evening sun was going down, but after a short conversation both of them decided to keep going.  It hadn’t been too long since they’d escaped from Roswell and avoiding a posse took priority over catching some sleep.

As the sky darkened, Rarity slowed her pace slightly so she could eat and walk at the same time, grabbing mouthfuls as she went.  She’d made sure Frank’s trail snacks were still in the saddlebags, and he ate some.

The moon had started to rise when Frank dozed off for the first time.  He roused himself and muttered something.

“What was that?” asked Rarity.

“Nothing worth repeating.”  Frank yawned.  “I’m trying to stay awake.”

“We can talk, if you like.”

Frank shrugged.

Rarity considered a topic.  “What will you do when this is all over?”

“Well, assuming everything works out for me, I’ll probably go back to drifting.  If I can prove that I didn’t kill that waitress, I’ll do that.”  He shifted a little in the saddle.  “What about you?”

“I’m going home as soon as possible.  My friends will be worried sick.”  Rarity paused, considering what might have happened in her absence.  Hopefully nothing horrible.  “After arriving, I will refrain from traveling outside my world ever again.”

They both chuckled quietly at that.  It was a nice bit of humor.  That is, it was, right up until the point when the two of them were suddenly illuminated from above by a harsh blue-white light.

Rarity started, looking up and squinting in the light.  Frank raised a hand to shade his eyes, trying to see what was hovering above them in the sky.  He had heard of electric lightbulbs, but didn’t think anything natural to Earth could produce such a blinding light.

Rarity shifted under him and she gasped in surprise.  “I’m...I’m floating!”

Frank glanced downwards, seeing the ground getting further away as Rarity’s hooves flailed in the air.  The two of them were being drawn upwards towards the light.

“Abducted by aliens!” Rarity shrieked.  “This is the worst possible thing!”

Frank agreed.

They kept getting closer to the source of the light until it seemed to almost envelop the two of them.  Even squinting, the brightness was almost unbearable.  There was a low hum and a metallic sound.  The light suddenly cut off and Rarity dropped a few inches onto a hard surface.

Blinking, the two of them looked around.  The space was dimly illuminated and roughly circular in shape.  There were no sharp edges to be seen and most of the visible surfaces seemed to be made of metal.  A few seconds passed and a door slid up, revealing a room beyond and a dark figure silhouetted in the doorway.

Frank pulled his gun and lined up the sights.  “Who’s there?”

The life form - whatever it was - moved forward slightly.  Rarity unholstered one of her pistols and held it up parallel to Frank’s gun.  The display of magic appeared to give the figure pause, and then it raised something that glinted in the light.

BANG  BANG

Both bullets hit, and the figure slumped over, something rattling as it fell to the floor.

Rarity stepped closer.  Frank climbed down from the saddle.  The silently stared for a few seconds at a creature that was completely unlike anything either of them had ever seen before.  It bled green on the floor.  Nearby lay a small shiny metallic object.  It didn’t look like a handgun, but then the alien didn’t have hands.  Rarity picked the device up and inspected it for a moment before sliding it into a saddlebag.

They both stepped around the body and into the next room, guns up and ready.  There were a few pieces of equipment there, but it was impossible to identify any of it.  A few doorways branched off the main room, but they were covered by transparent barriers that glowed slightly.  Frank raised his hand to touch one, but then thought better of it.

A hallway led further.  Along it were a series of solid metal doors.  Frank paused and knelt, studying a trail of what looked like blood that led under one of the doors.  The blood was red, not alien.

Rarity saw the look on his face and was able to put things together for herself.  Frank stood up and was just turning to continue walking when there was a sound from the end of the hallway.  Forewarned, he and Rarity both had their guns ready when another alien appeared.  Their weapons thundered, the sound magnified in the small space.  This time, there was return fire.  A thin beam of green light flashed from the alien’s device, the aim disrupted by taking two bullets.

“Was that a laser?” Rarity murmured, glancing at the burn mark on the ceiling that the alien weapon had made.

“A what?”  Frank shook his head.  “Never mind.”

He paused to break open his revolver and reload the fired chambers with cartridges from his belt.  Taking the rolled up money from the safety chamber, he loaded that one, too.

They advanced to the end of the hallway and came upon a wider room.  There were seats near the back near where Frank and Rarity had come in.  At the other end were windows and a bank of complicated equipment that flashed lights.  There were also half a dozen aliens with weapons who promptly began firing.

There was precious little cover available, only the narrow hallway and a few pieces of furniture.  Fortunately, the lasers didn’t seem to have punch to them; they were just beams of light.  Deadly light, but still not quite as penetrating as a bullet.

Rarity’s magic was invaluable here, her guns easily able to engage targets without exposing much of herself.  The fight was fierce, but in the small space it was over quickly.

Frank’s trousers had been singed near his lower leg, but the loose material had been burned, not him.  Rarity’s hat had taken a direct hit and she tossed it away as it smoldered.

Still on edge despite their apparent victory, the two of them slowly advanced into the room.  It seemed like some sort of control center.  A lot of the equipment had been damaged in the exchange of fire.

Rarity said, “Well, now what do we-”

Everything lurched to the side as warning sirens began to blare.  The furniture, damaged but still plush, slid across the room.  Frank and Rarity ended up piled on top of it all just before there was a tremendous crash and every visible light was extinguished.

A few tinkles of metal and other debris persisted, but most of the noise had gone.  Frank groaned, tenderly touching his previously cracked ribs.  Rarity sorted herself out and managed to stand awkwardly on the sloping floor.  They both looked around.  Faint moonlight could be seen through the windows at the front of the room.

“I think we’ve landed,” Rarity said.

Frank got up awkwardly, still in pain.  Rarity stepped close and let him lean on her as they picked their way through the mess.  Back near the room where they had first come aboard there was a large tear in the metal, cool desert air blowing in.  Using her saddle as a guard to keep from cutting herself, Rarity squeezed through.  Frank followed her and then laboriously climbed into the saddle.

They rode in a circle around the machine.  It looked as strange from the outside as it had from within.  

“What in the world...” Frank muttered.

“I don't think this thing is actually from this world,” Rarity disagreed.

They both stared for a few moments longer before Frank glanced up, checking the stars.  He figured for a few minutes and decided, “We aren’t far from where we were before.”

“But we’ve lost the trail of the gang,” Rarity sighed.

“You’re worried about that right after we got abducted by aliens?”

“All the aliens are now dead and we’re back on the ground.  What should I be worried about now that it’s over?”

She had a point and Frank shrugged.  “I guess we can keep going in the general direction.  Maybe we’ll get lucky and cross their trail.”

They both glanced back at the wrecked vehicle and set off.  





> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frank glanced over his shoulder, checking the backtrail.  There was nothing to be seen at night, although that didn’t stop him from being antsy about it.  They’d left the wreck of the alien vehicle behind, but that only made him feel slightly better.

He turned the abduction over in his mind, trying to glean anything he had missed in the heat of it.   He wondered if such things were common in Rarity’s home, as she had seemed to understand what was going on, however she hadn’t said anything specific about the otherworldly creatures or their conveyance. 

Rarity felt Frank shifting anxiously in the saddle and couldn’t blame him.  While the concept of alien abduction was something she’d heard about - through scary movies or Spike’s comics - it seemed that such things actually existed here.  Based on Frank’s reaction, however, it seemed that they were blessedly rare.

But the apparent scarcity made her wonder if the two of them had been specifically targeted.  Could it be because she wasn’t the average pony?  Why did space aliens care?

After a moment, Rarity modestly admitted that they could have also been after Frank, but really, he wasn’t the interesting one out of the two of them.

As they continued on, hoping to encounter Teal Jack’s gang, the sun started to glow on the eastern horizon.  A night without sleep combined with a terrifying battle had left both Frank and Rarity shaken, but all the more determined to press on until the job was finished.

They paused for rest early that morning at a small pool of water that looked spring fed.  Rarity’s legs and Frank’s behind ached from so many miles on the trail.  The both knew that they couldn’t afford to dawdle long, but the brief rest was welcome.

Frank sat, stretching his legs slightly.  Rarity had settled down beside him and the two of them stared at the water for a few minutes.  Frank cleared his throat and asked, “Do you believe in coincidences?”

“No,” Rarity replied.  “From what I’ve seen, everything happens for a reason.”

“Then what’s the reason we got abducted by aliens?”

“I don’t know, but now that you mention it, I don’t believe it was random.”

They both lapsed into silence for a few more minutes.  Frank glanced up, checking the sun.  He stood slowly and dusted himself off.  Rarity roused herself and stood.  The two of them got back on the trail.

Another hour or so of riding passed.  Rarity was still plodding along, although her mind had started to wander long before.  She thought Frank might have been asleep as he hadn’t moved for quite a while.  She couldn’t really blame him, though.

Rarity was proven wrong when Frank suddenly stood in the stirrups, leaning forwards slightly.  Rarity glanced up at him, seeing an intent look on his face as he stared towards the horizon.  Turning her head back, she carefully examined the terrain, catching sight of a far away dust cloud.

Frank sat down again.  Rarity altered her course slightly and picked up the pace.  They continued to follow the cloud as the day wore on, slowly gaining.  It was hard to discern, but it seemed likely that they had found the gang once again.

A few rolling hills had begun to appear, and far away hazy mountains could be seen.  The peaks were still several days away, but the land was starting to ramp up to meet them.

They paused again in the afternoon.  Rarity said, “I think we should plan for the showdown.”

Frank nodded and checked their gear.  They had one rifle and three pistols between them.  The weapons took three different kinds of ammunition, so they had to plan for reloading.  Other than that, there was no time or spare cartridges to practice shooting beforehand.

“If we catch up to them by nightfall, that would be the best time to hit them,” Frank said.

Rarity nodded, not enthusiastic about the subject of a gunfight, but recognizing that it might be necessary.  She dug through the saddle bags, finding the purse she had picked up.  Inside it was a small kit of makeup.  As soon as she saw it, part of her instinctively wanted to freshen up, but another idea came to her.

Carefully working with the limited colors, Rarity brushed lines and patterns on her face and neck, breaking up her outline and partially hiding her white coat.  Her horn was hardest to disguise, but she managed to camouflage it to be less noticeable.  The disguise would not work at close ranges, but should give her better concealment farther away, particularly if she was lying down.

While digging in the saddlebags, Rarity also discovered the silvery alien device she had picked up.  She and Frank both studied it with interest, but were unable to discern how it worked.

Frank took it and carefully pointed it away from him.  It seemed vaguely handgun-like, but had no obvious controls.  Despite trying, he couldn’t get it to function.

Giving up, the two of them got back to riding.  The cloud of dust they had been following at a distance occasionally dipped behind hills but they always managed to catch sight of it again.  Rarity squinted and lowered her head as they continued to ride west, the sun beginning to get into her eyes as it dropped closer to the horizon.  Frank pulled his hat low and gently guided Rarity with his knees around obstacles they encountered.

The evening dragged on until the sun had disappeared behind the distant mountains.  Frank had taken to chewing coffee grounds to stay awake.  Rarity seemed more than a little fatigued, but was not showing signs of total exhaustion yet.

Topping a ridge, Frank blinked and then laid a hand on Rarity’s neck.  There was a flicker of orange light faintly visible.  He urged her forward, down off the crown of the hill so they wouldn’t be highlighted against the sky.  Her movements were more careful now, more alert.

In a few minutes, Frank decided that he was looking at a fire, a small one a long distance away.  If the gang they were stalking had stopped for the night, then he and Rarity could afford to be patient in approaching them.  There was no telling how many men would be standing watch, and taking chances on such a thing could be deadly.

When Frank decided they were getting close enough, he stepped down from the saddle and walked a few feet to Rarity’s side.  It reduced the height of their combined profile and made them two separate targets instead of a single large one.

Frank avoided looking at the flames directly.  He didn’t need the reduction of his night vision.  Creeping closer, he kept a lookout for any man - or rather, anything - that could do him or Rarity harm.  Recent experience had taught him to broaden his horizons when searching for potential threats.

He estimated that the two of them still had at least a quarter of a mile to go when there was a sudden flash of blue-white light directly over the fire.  Pure instinct made Frank drop to the ground, concealing himself among the scrub, his hand already grabbing iron.  Beside him, Rarity did almost exactly the same thing.

The pool of light was tight and focused.  A few confused voices carried from the camp, changing to screams and curses as men and horses began to lift from the ground.  Rarity’s eyes were wide, not sure which was worse: experiencing the forcible levitation or watching it.

From the vague outline it made in the sky, she thought that this alien ship looked larger than the one they had previously encountered.  It was certainly abducting more than just two beings this time.

A shot of greater than normal panic went through her.  If the aliens were taking everything, did that mean the teleportation gem was also slipping away?

Rarity was on her hooves in the next second.  “We have to go after them.  It’s our only chance.”

Frank got to his knees and stared at her.  “Are you crazy?”

“My only chance,” Rarity clarified.  She looked at him for a long moment, knowing that if she was going to throw herself into the beam of light and keep pursuing the gang, even aboard the starship, it had to be soon.

Frank closed his mouth, taking control of the astonished look on his face.  He shook his head and stood up.  “Not like I have anything else to do.”

He jumped into the saddle and Rarity took off at a full gallop, directly at the alien ship.






> Chapter 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


Throwing herself into an alien abduction beam thing was probably the most ill-advised idea that Rarity had ever thought of.  The other option, however, was just letting her diamond - the gem she desperately needed in order to return home - get abducted with Teal Jack and his gang.

At least she had asked Frank before charging in with him on her back.  His insistence on going along was not what Rarity had expected, but she was grateful to not have to go alone.

However, as the bright light lifted them into the air, Rarity realized the true reason Frank might have agreed to this plan.  If she disappeared, he would be stuck in the middle of the desert without a mount or any of his supplies.  He had no other choice but to go along for the ride.

A moment of guilt over dragging him into this situation passed, but Rarity didn’t have any choice, either.  This might be her only shot at saving herself.

The familiar, but still very disconcerting feeling of being hauled inside the spacecraft passed, and the two of them found themselves once again standing in a small metal room.  Teal Jack and his gang were fortunately not present, although it wasn’t obvious where they had gone.

Frank stepped out of the saddle and drew his pistol.  Rarity unholstered her guns and gave them a quick check.

With any luck, these aliens hadn’t gotten the message about the dangers of picking up strange life forms.  Frank and Rarity moved carefully, watching for any signs of life.

The room was different than in the last ship.  It was larger, fitting, as the entire ship was larger than the last.  The only entrance seemed to a single panel on the wall.  However, when Frank touched it or Rarity used her magic, a small light would glow red beside the door and it would stoically refuse to open.

“Well, this is a fine mess,” Frank muttered.  His gun hung limply, but he didn’t stow it away just yet.

Rarity nodded in agreement.  “I suppose so.”

There was a moment of silence.  Frank had just opened his mouth to speak again when a faint scream carried through the air.  It was impossible to hear the direction it had come from, but it sounded like a man.

Frank immediately tensed.  Rarity’s ears flicked with worry.  The noise was not repeated, and that was perhaps more ominous than if it had been.

There was another faint sound, this one coming from directly outside the room’s door.  The small light changed to green.

Frank and Rarity had both flattened themselves against the wall before the door opened.  A long, unearthly shadow spread across the floor from the light outside.  That was all Rarity needed to act.

She whipped one of her guns forward, pistol-whipping the alien across what passed as its face.  Staggered, the creature reeled back and Frank leveled his gun.  BANG

The two of them advanced into the hallway, pleased to be free of their captivity.  They both stepped carefully over the dead alien, Frank pausing to kick its shiny weapon away from its appendage.  One could never be too sure.

The layout of this spaceship was different.  Carefully moving with their guns out, Frank and Rarity swept down the hallway.  It ended in a small room that was lined with glass prison cells.  Or they would have been, had this been a prison and had it been made of earthly materials.

Frank’s jaw tightened as he saw each member of the abducted gang sprawled in their respective containments.  Most had tubes or wires protruding grotesquely from their bodies.  Some were missing clothing.  Some were missing limbs.

A jarring churn of his stomach nearly brought Frank to his knees.  Rarity took a quick step forward and braced her shoulder against Frank’s hip as he swayed.

A deep breath seemed to steady him.  Frank shook his head.  “This is wrong.  What sons of bitches would do something like this?  You can do a lot to a man, but this is just plain against nature.”

Rarity had faced all manner of magic and maniacs during her service with the Elements of Harmony.  She had never seen anything quite like the scene before her, but at least she had some idea that it could happen.  “Frank, you need to come around.  The same will happen to us if we don’t stay sharp.”

He nodded and squared his shoulders.  “I reckon so.  Let’s...see what we can do.”

The two of them slowly reviewed the captives.  Most didn’t stand a hope of salvation.  At the end of the line of cells was Teal Jack Smith, and despite the wounds on his body and the equipment attached to him, he was breathing.

Frank smacked the butt of his gun on the transparent material that blocked the entrance of the cell.  There was a dull thunk, but no visible effect.

Rarity stepped back as Frank aimed his pistol.  He was positioned off to the side, so any ricochets would fly away down the hall.  Just in case, he raised an arm and shielded his eyes while he pulled the trigger.

The bullet smacked into the barrier and left a small scuff on it.  Astonished, Frank raised the gun and emptied it.  The result was barely anything progress at all.

“What shall we do?” Rarity asked, raising her voice over their ringing ears.

Frank paused, and then stepped towards her, reaching for the Sharps rifle hanging in the saddle scabbard.  He ran his hands over the weapon and then took one of the enormous shells out of the saddlebag, loading it.

“If you would do the honors?”  Frank handed the weapon over.  Rarity nodded and held the rifle perpendicular to the transparent pane so the bullet would transfer the maximum amount of force.  She backed away several steps for safety.

The rifle going off was like a cannon, and the .50-90 round delivered a 600-grain punch.  No glass could have survived the strike, and the clear wall only fared slightly better.  Spiderweb cracks spread across the surface, and Rarity was able to exploit the weakness, using magic to bend the pane and push it out of its frame.

Frank knelt beside Teal Jack, touching his shoulder.  The man’s eyes fluttered open, although that was probably more due to the gunshot than anything.  He murmured something.

“Speak up,” Frank demanded.

Teal Jack’s eyes went past Frank, focusing on the mare behind him.  “That one...stole my hat.”

“You stole my diamond,” she retorted.

Teal Jack appeared to consider the idea of a unicorn talking to him and apparently disregarded it as less interesting than what else had happened recently.  He moved his hand, although it was restrained by a tangle of wires that looked like the guts of Satan’s telegraph.  He tried the other hand, managing to get into his coat pocket and retrieve the large gem Rarity had been after for so many miles.

She took it, giving the diamond a discerning examination.  Despite a little lint, it still looked all right.

The wounded man made a small noise and broke into a coughing fit that wracked his whole body.  Drops of blood appeared on his lips.

He drew a stuttering breath and looked at Frank.  “Dan down there has some dynamite.  Those...things open the windows with a touch.”

Frank thought he understood.  The aliens didn’t seem to carry keys, so the barriers must be operated some other way.  He started to get up, but Rarity knelt close to Teal Jack.

“Is there anything else?” she asked gently.

The effort of speaking seemed to drain Teal Jack even further.  “This is not how I expected things to happen.”

Rarity nodded.  Teal Jack closed his eyes and a few seconds later he stopped breathing.

“I suppose that’s that,” Rarity said quietly.  She got up.  Frank went with her back to the dead alien and they stood over it for a moment.

Frank took out his knife and offered it to her.  “Would you do the honors?”

“Why can’t you?” she asked, nose wrinkling.

“You don’t have to actually touch it.”

Rarity sighed in resignation, taking the knife.  With a quick movement, she cut off the end of the alien’s forelimb.  Carrying it back to the cells, it was quick work to use the severed appendage to open the doors.

None of the others could be saved.  It was grim work, picking through the remains of men.  They did find a stick of dynamite, however.

The fuse was short, perhaps only a few seconds of burn.  They had matches to light it, but a worthy target would be desirable.

Rarity could have teleported out at any time with the diamond, but she shared Frank’s feeling that something needed to be done about this extraterrestrial injustice.  And, she realized with creeping dread, she didn’t know if it was possible to take Frank with her.

But while they were still together, she was going to make the most of it.  The two of them left the cells behind, searching for a place to stick the dynamite.

There were a few unnatural pieces of equipment to be seen.  They passed into another long hallway that had a window halfway down.  Frank and Rarity both paused to gaze outside, or as much as it could be called that.  Most of the field of view was a solid cloud of stars.  Vaguely near the bottom of the window a small blue ball could be seen.

Rarity gasped.  “We’re very far from the planet.”

The idea of traveling away from Earth was highly unsettling to Frank, and he fought to keep from thinking about what that might mean for his future life expectancy.  They still had a job to do.

Approaching the end of the hallway, a door suddenly slid open to reveal Teal Jack Smith.  He looked healthy, whole, and aggressive.  He was also stark naked and held one of the alien weapons.

Frank and Rarity both had their guns up and firing before the door was properly open.  The figure at the end of the hallway jerked, spurts of green blood going on the walls as it fell.

“Oh my,” Rarity exclaimed.  “Is this why they’ve been capturing people?  To impersonate them?”

Frank’s lip curled in disgust and he shoved the body out of the doorway with his boot.  “I say we light this dynamite now and aim for the window.  I can’t think of any other weak points.”

Rarity hesitated for a moment and then nodded.  Frank gave her the explosive and a box of matches.  He hauled the limp body of the disguised alien up, positioning its hand near the door’s activation area.

Lighting the fuse, Rarity tossed the stick of dynamite down the hallway.  Frank slapped the panel with the alien’s hand and the door closed.  A moment later they heard the explosion of the dynamite and the sounds of wrenching metal.

The illumination flickered and a second later the door popped open again.  The sudden rush of air shoved Frank off his feet and sent him tumbling towards the hole the blast had torn in the side of the ship.

Rarity screamed and dove forward, sailing with the gale force winds blowing out of the hole in the pressurized space ship.  She grabbed onto Frank, wrapping her hooves around him.  There was a flash as she activated the diamond, focusing on the first place that came to her mind.

The two of them fell in a heap, a solid floor beneath them.  Frank groaned and rolled out of Rarity’s embrace.  Both of them looked around.

The walls were decorated with color and scraps of fabric.  A few pony-shaped dress forms stood around.  The tables were filled with scissors, sewing machines, and all manner of supplies.

Frank took it all in.  “Where are we?”

“This is the inside of my shop,” Rarity said, standing up giddily.  “We’re in Ponyville!  We’re home!”
She stopped suddenly, mouth frowning.  “Er, I’m home, I suppose.”




> Chapter 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Frank had never been inside a dress shop before, but even with the pony-shaped clothing forms, he surmised that he was inside one now.  It was dark with the blinds pulled.

Rarity was making little squeals of excitement and prancing around the room.  Frank spotted a few decorations that matched the mark on her hip and surmised she was being quite literal about being “home.”

Which meant that Frank had a big problem.  Granted, maybe not as big as being in custody of malevolent aliens, but big enough.

There was a sudden drumbeat of hooves outside and the door was thrown open, letting in a shaft of sunlight.  Five ponies of various colors poured inside, all of them talking quickly and loudly in a cacophony of noise.  They were followed by a purple and green lizard and three small ponies who soon started adding to the din.

“I’m so happy to see you all!” Rarity exclaimed.  She started to move forward for hugs, but realized just how much trail dust had accumulated all over her.  The makeup she’d used as camouflage was also no help.

She was bombarded with questions.  Twilight wanted to know where she’d been and how it left such a large energy signature.  Rainbow poked at her saddle, asking why it looked so weird.  Applejack smirked and questioned where Rarity had found all that dirt.

Spike said, “What’s this cowboy doing here?”

“This is Frank,” Rarity introduced him.  “He and I...well, it’s a rather long story.”

There was a long moment of silence as every eye turned to Frank.  He shifted uncomfortably.  “Hello.”

Pinkie let out an extended gasp.  “Hi Frank!  What kind of cowboy are you?  Have you always been a cowboy?  Do you have a last name?  What’s your favorite color?  Where are you from?”

“Pinkie, don’t ask him too many personal questions,” Rarity interrupted.  “It’s impolite.”

“Well, how are we supposed to learn about this guy?” Rainbow asked, gesturing at Frank with a hoof as she hovered in front of him.  “We don’t know anything about him.”

“Take my word for it,” Rarity replied.  “I’m vouching for him.”

The lizard, Spike, quickly dashed off a letter to the Princess with a message about Rarity’s return.  Frank watched the procedure, deciding that if Spike breathed fire, he must actually be a dragon.  From the old campfire stories, he thought dragons were supposed to be bigger.  A more attention-grabbing thought was why Spike seemed to know what a cowboy was.

“We really need to know what happened,” Twilight said, turning back to Rarity.

Grabbing a piece of fabric to wrap the diamond in so as to prevent accidental dimension-traveling, Rarity told what she knew.  “This teleportation gem you gave me for safekeeping malfunctioned, Twilight.”

“Sorry,” Twilight said.  “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen.  But at least we know it works.”

“Wait, this thing teleports?” said Pinkie, grabbing the diamond.

“Stop!” Rarity shrieked.  “Put that down!”

“Okay, sheesh.”  Pinkie did as ordered.  “I just wanted to know more about it.  Maybe that would explain why I saw Twilight leaving your boutique after you disappeared only to come back later and act like she’d just discovered you missing.”

There was a silence.

Rarity said, “Oh, this is bad.”

Also realizing the situation, Frank said, “They made duplicates of your friends?”

“Who?” Applejack asked.

“Twilight, have you been abducted recently?” Rarity demanded.

“Uh, no!  Of course not!”  The purple pony began to back towards the door.

The other ponies had sensed her sudden shift in attitude and were beginning to turn towards her suspiciously.  Frank stepped into the doorway and blocked it.  Twilight backed into his legs and jerked in surprise.

Frank pulled out his knife.  “You’re not going to like this, but we need to see the color you bleed.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s true,” Rarity added.

There was another long pause.  Without warning, the purple mare’s jaw suddenly flashed open wide and she leaped at Frank.

He caught her charge on the sleeve of his leather duster, using the momentum to spin and plant her body hard on the floor.  The knife drove to its hilt in her chest, spurting green blood and unnatural gore.  The body twitched, and then lay still.

Mouths gaped and eyes popped as Frank straightened up slowly, wincing at the pain in his bruised ribs and wiping his knife off.

Fluttershy suddenly burst into tears and the entire crowd started talking again, quickly.  Spike looked lost, disbelief at being short a companion clear on his face.  Frank quickly knelt between him and the body to give the dragon something else to focus on.  “Was Twilight close to you?”

“Yeah, like a big sister,” he mumbled.  “I can’t belive…”

Spike shook his head and shifted his eyes look at Frank.  “How did you get here?  You’re supposed to be from a comic book.”

“A what?”  Frank raised his eyebrows.

Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden flurry of wings as a chariot landed in the street outside.  The stallions that pulled it wore uniform metal armor.  Stepping down from the chariot were the two tallest ponies Frank had yet seen.

“The Princesses are here, they’ll know what to do!” said Applejack.

“Princess Celestia, Princess Luna, what is going on?” Rarity asked.

“We have seen disturbing things in the night sky,” Luna replied without preamble.  She looked with distaste at the dead alien on the floor.

“It’s clear that we need to find where Twilight has gone,” said Celestia.  “Also Sweetie Belle.”

The young filly who had been standing quietly up to that point snarled and made a break for the door.  Rarity whipped out one of her Colts.  She hesitated, time seeming to slow as the imposter fled.  But she wouldn’t escape.  Rarity blew her away, splashing green blood across the walls.

Rarity turned on Celestia.  “They took my sister?!”

“It looks that way, yes.  Right now, we need to form a plan, and-”

There was a deep rumble and a shadow passed over the town.  Frank poked his head out the door to see a menacing spaceship overhead.  He hadn’t yet seen such a thing in the daytime.  If anything, it looked even stranger than at night.

Frank addressed the room.  “They’re here!”

“How could they have found us?  Did they follow the diamond?” Rarity wondered.  She pushed through the crowd to the door, standing with Frank and looking skyward.

“We might have a situation,” Celestia understated worriedly, watching as the ship came around and began to descend towards the town.  “If they seem to be as involved with energy weapons as we’ve seen so far, magic might not affect them.”

“But we’ve got guns, right?” said Spike.  He pointed to Rarity’s pistols.  “Can I borrow one?  I know how they work from reading.”

“Spike, darling, I appreciate the offer, but this might be a job for somepony more experienced.”  Rarity’s mouth set in a firm line.  “I’m going out there.”

She stepped out the door, Frank right beside her.  The two of them traded glances before taking up defensive positions, covering each other’s backs.

“You don’t have to do this,” Rarity said as they moved off down the street.

Frank shrugged.  “You might need help.”

That was what Rarity had expected of him, but she had felt the need to be polite and give him a choice in the matter.  It was interesting how she’d met him just a week ago and was now willing to trust him with her life.  The man’s word was his bond.

Frank had taken the big rifle and chambered a round.  The large ship overhead seemed to have settled on a course for landing in the center of town.  A few flashes from the ground designated frightened unicorns attempting attack.  As the Princess had predicted, the spells bounced off a shimmering layer of energy on the ship’s hull.

Rarity stepped in front of Frank.  He leaned forward, resting the heavy rifle across her saddle for stability.  He fiddled with the vernier sight.  “How far away do you think that is?”

“Hmm, perhaps half a mile and closing,” Rarity said.

Frank nodded.  “Good enough to start with.”  BANG

A light cloud of smoke bloomed from the front of the weapon as the heavy bullet went whizzing away.  Rarity began to quickly call out her estimates of decreasing range as Frank kept jamming cartridges into the rifle and firing them.

As the spaceship  roared towards them, the front window was plainly visible.  On Frank’s third shot, Rarity saw it crack.  Four shots later, it exploded inward and the ship careened sideways, heading for a crash landing in the Everfree Forest.  Even from outside of Ponyville, the sound of the impact sounded sounded like a dozen trains derailing.

Frank jumped in the saddle and Rarity took off at a gallop.  Her hooves beat hard the bridge over the stream that marked the boundary of town.   A few minutes of hard running brought them to the crash site and the two of them arrived prepared.  

Six-shooters blazed as stunned aliens tumbled out of their wrecked vehicle.  Some offered resistance with their lasers, but the broken trees at the edge of the forest offered ample protection.  Firing from behind cover, Frank and Rarity kept up a steady stream of lead going downrange, coordinating their reloads.  Blooms of green blood splattered every time a slug found its mark.

When it was clear to do so, the two of them moved forward.  Frank and Rarity slipped inside through a large rent in the hull.  The inside of the ship was quiet and seemed to have lost power.

An alien suddenly appeared and Frank kicked sideways with one of his riding boots.  The force sent the enemy reeling towards Rarity, who was prepared to buck.  Her much more powerful kick slammed the alien’s body squishily against the wall, and after that it didn’t move.

The two of them cautiously advanced, making their way to the captive area.  It took a few minutes to find it.  The lights in the corridors were dim and seemed to not be powered.  Perhaps that was the reason that all the cells stood open when they found them.  

Ponies of all colors and kinds were being held there, many with ugly medical apparatuses affixed to their bodies.   Rarity quickly located her friend and her sister.  

The two of them were in bad shape, but only minutes later the Princesses and the medical ponies they had called began to make their way onto the scene, escorted into the ship by Frank and Rarity.

Twilight was barely conscious as she was being attended to.  Her treatment in captivity had been deplorable, but it looked like she would recover.   Twilight was able to murmur, “Rarity, what happened?”

“Extraterrestrials had some nefarious plan,” Rarity explained as simply as she was able.  This was not a time for Twilight to be overanalyzing things.  “I’m not sure exactly what the plan was, but we seem to have put a stop to it.”

Twilight’s head limply lolled to the side, staring at Frank.  “Who’s this?”

“This is Frank.  He’s a friend.”

Twilight squinted, possibly wondering where she had seen the man before.  She had only glanced at Spike’s comics, though, and the answer couldn’t seem to come to her.

Seeing that everything was being taken care of, Rarity allowed herself to relax.  She ran a hoof through her severely mussed mane and looked at Frank.  “What will we do now?  What will you do?”

Frank looked uncertain.  “I don’t know where to start.”

“You can stay here in Equestria, if you like.”

“I don’t know,” Frank said.

“Well, you’re wanted for murder back in New Mexico,” Rarity pointed out.

“What?” yelped Twilight.  The Princesses, too, had suddenly turned their attention to Frank.

“He’s no threat to us,” Rarity quickly assured them.  “And I should mention that the charges are false.”

“Very reassuring,” said Celestia, calming down.  She gestured to the interior of the alien ship.  “I suppose now that we have defeated the initial invasion, we can focus on long term defense should these enemies ever return.  Frank, you perhaps best know how to accomplish that.”

Rarity nodded in agreement.  “Would you like to make your new home in Equestria?”

He put his hand up, shoving his hat back.  “Well, I didn’t really have an old home, but I suppose your offer to stay is very generous, thank you.”

“Excellent.”  Celestia nodded and smiled.  “Now, would you mind signing my copy of Cowboys #1?”







That evening, Rarity had finished stripping the trail dust from her coat and the dye from her mane.  Her gear was laid out carefully and she felt strangely light for not wearing it.  

It had been a very long, very strange trip.  Finding out Princess Celestia was a comic book collector had just been the icing on the cake.  They still did not have all the answers about the aliens, but hopefully those would be forthcoming.

Rarity sighed, looking at her guns.  Frank’s code must have really rubbed off on her.  She better understood herself now, and how to be her own pony.  It felt liberating, but carried with it a sense of responsibility.

She was not about to tolerate or simply let bad things happen to those who did not deserve it.  She was ready to fight for what she believed in, but hoped such a thing never had to happen.  

It was a curious thing, knowing what she did now.

Meanwhile, Frank snuggled in bed happily, preparing for the first good night of beauty sleep since this whole crazy ordeal began.