Five years of cheap thrills in the big city has left Sweetie Belle in bad debt with dangerous ponies. Forced to pay up, she returns to Ponyville to seek money from an estranged sister she loathes with a passion.
Five years of cheap thrills in the big city have left Sweetie Belle in bad debt with dangerous ponies. Forced to pay up, she returns to Ponyville to seek money from an estranged sister she loathes with a passion.
Daylight stabbed my eyes. I barely had time to squint out at the train station before a rough hoof shoved me stumbling out onto the platform. The train gushed out steam. Everything was a white blur.
“You got one day,” came Cutter’s rasping voice from behind.
“Fuck yourself!” I snapped, my eyes adjusting.
“You got some nerve, Belle,” Cutter said.
I glared up at his ugly face. “And you've got some self-fucking to do.”
“Just get the money,” Cutter groaned, disappearing back into the darkness of the wagon.
“Of course,” I lied. “I’ll be back with it in no time.” I stepped back from the train, my head aching from the bright light.
Posters lined the station walls. ‘Dream by Rarity,’ they read, with my sister’s self-righteous face plastered on them next to some fancy blue bottle. Her advertisements were everywhere, even in the city, always watching and judging me.
“It’s too late,” said a deeper voice inside the wagon behind me.
“What?” Cutter asked.
“The train,” the deeper voice said. “It’s five minutes too late.”
“Do we pay you to count minutes?” Cutter said. “Get out and do your job.”
I froze and looked back. “Job? What job?”
The big bastard in the raincoat who’d sat silent all the way from the city emerged from the wagon, white eyes squinting around the station. He looked like someone who’d spent far too long in a dungeon, yet at the same time not nearly long enough.
“What a shithole,” he said, his thick raincoat making a clinking sound as he stepped out onto the platform.
“No, no, no, no, no,” I said, storming past the brute and looking back into the wagon at Cutter. “You didn’t say anything about bringing anyone.”
“Did you really think we’d just let you wander off alone with all that debt?” Cutter asked. “I’m going back to the city. Chuck-Chuck stays with you.”
I glanced back at the creepy stallion in the raincoat, and the sight made my guts churn. He was standing under a ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ sign, staring up at a dusty clock that had been broken since before I left this very station five years ago.
“Come on, Cut.” I forced a smile. “There’s no need for that. I’m good for it, you know I am.”
“You worry too much, Belle.” Cutter put a hoof on the wagon door. “Chuck-Chuck’s the very best at what he does.” He grinned and began sliding the door. “Just don’t let him feed you anything.”
“No, no, please, please, please—”
The door slammed shut in my face.
I groaned, pressing my forehead against the cold metal. This was supposed to be easy—just walk away alone and disappear. I looked over to the stallion Cutter had called Chuck-Chuck.
He was looking right at me with those pale eyes of his.
I put on a hard face. “What are you looking at?”
“A dead mare.”
I swallowed. “I’ll get the money.”
Chuck-Chuck looked up at the clock again. “Sure you will.”
“My sister’s holding on to it. Just have to go pick it up.”
“Funny how everyone remembers some fortune lying around at a time like this.” He turned toward the station exit. “You've got until midnight. Then you’re mine.”
* * *
Leaves the color of gold and blood rustled along the winding, downhill road. Here and there, Ponyville came into view between trees and bushes: houses of mismatched colors along narrow roads, bridges spanning the same old rivers, rolling hills and forests stretching out beyond.
My head throbbed. I felt nauseous and weak. It was hard to breathe properly.
“How long since you smoked?” Chuck-Chuck asked. His raincoat kept making that clinking sound as he walked, like it was stuffed with glass. “They said you’re a dusthead.”
“I’m not a dusthead,” I snapped. “I’m quitting.”
“No one quits the dust,” he said. “The hunger breaks everyone. Once your nose starts bleeding you’ll sell your soul for a gem.” He looked down at the town. “But it’s not unusual for ponies to fight their demons when they sense their time is running out.”
I kept my mouth shut and walked on.
“Tell me why you ran away,” Chuck-Chuck said after a while.
I glared at him. “Is every debt-collector this nosy?”
His white eyes met mine in a dangerous look.
I pursed my lips and looked forward. “I didn’t run.”
“Fillies your age don’t just leave their homes.”
“I’m a mare, you idiot.”
“Barely.”
“What do you care why I left?”
Chuck-Chuck adjusted his raincoat as he walked. “It’s my job to know if your sister will give out a small fortune to some brat who ran off years ago.”
“It’s my money. Inheritance. It belongs to me.”
“And why’s your inheritance just sitting out here in the middle of nowhere while you’re living on borrowed money?”
I didn’t answer.
“Don’t make me beat it out of you,” he said.
I hesitated. “She stole it.”
“Thieves aren’t in the habit of giving back what they take.”
“This one will,” I said, my expression hardening.
The first houses appeared along the narrow road. The air was rich with the scent of earth—a nice change from the dusty coal-and-piss stink of the city. This smelled like home, and it made me tense with anxiety.
Rarity’s boutique came into view in the distance ahead. It looked different—bigger than before—but there was no question that it was hers.
I felt sick. I wasn’t supposed to be here. I never intended to come back.
I glanced sideways at Chuck-Chuck. The big brute looked as out of place as I felt, overshadowing me like some enormous bodyguard, scowling at everything and everyone with icy suspicion. I had to ditch him somehow, hop on a train going west or south or anywhere not Ponyville.
I turned toward a Café on the side of the road.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I need to use a restroom.”
“If your sister’s as rich as you say, she’ll have a pot.”
I ignored him, half-expecting him to grab me. But he stood back and did nothing.
A tiny bell rang above the café door when I walked through. The dimness inside soothed my headache.
A mare stood by the windows, red sunlight moving up and down her foreleg as she wiped a table with a wet cloth. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” she said when she saw me. “I’m afraid you’re too late. We’re closed.”
“Do you have a back door?” I asked.
She cocked her head. “A door? Sure. Why—”
“Where? I need to use it real quick.”
The mare hesitated, but pointed to a door at the end of a short hallway.
I looked out the window. Chuck-Chuck still stood in the street, watching me. I went for the back door. It creaked open, and I emerged in an alleyway smelling of earth and flowers.
My heart raced. I had to get away. Just the thought of seeing Rarity again made me feel weak.
I moved to the end of the alley and poked my head around the corner.
A tall figure stood there waiting for me. I looked up and Chuck-Chuck’s pale eyes glared down at me.
My mouth fell open.
He shoved me into the alley and pressed his hoof hard into my throat, hoisting me up against the wall until the ground disappeared under me. “You really don’t know what you’re dealing with, do you?”
I charged my horn in desperation, trying to strike out at him.
He jerked his head, horn flashing, and searing pain shot through my forehead.
I tried to scream, but his hoof clenched my throat shut.
His horn took on a softer glow, and the air between us distorted. Living light appeared, taking the shape of a glowing document with my signature at the bottom.
“There’s a reason we make you sign in that special ink,” Chuck-Chuck said. “Until I strike your name, your contract will lead me right to you, no matter where you hide.”
I couldn’t breathe. My lungs screamed for air. I pushed at him with my hooves, but he was too strong.
“I was going to save the surprise for midnight, but…” The glowing document disappeared, and his magic moved inside his raincoat, glassy objects clinking inside. “Here.” He pulled out a vial with a translucent, white liquid. “Sister’s Mercy, it’s called. Fitting name, don’t you think?” He studied the vial. “Deadly even in tiny doses. Its antidote is so wonderfully ironic, you’d think it was made just for you.”
He looked at me and strangled me harder. “Your contract may let me find you anywhere, but if you make me chase you again, I’ll force the poison down your throat and watch you writhe like a worm until you die.” He gave my throat a final squeeze and let go.
I fell down against the wall, gasping and coughing.
He tugged me up to my hooves and shoved me out on the road. “Find your sister, and pray she can save you from me.”
* * *
The round core of the old boutique still stood, but it had been painted blue. New, white sections had been built on its sides, making it look more a small mansion than a humble boutique. A greenhouse stood to the side, connected to the house by a glass corridor, its walls glaring red with the light of the setting sun.
“That it?” Chuck-Chuck asked.
I nodded, fighting back a shudder.
“Something wrong with your legs?” He shoved me onto the walkway.
I moved toward the front door as slow as a pony about to be hanged, the monstrous boutique looming over me.
“I’ll be close,” Chuck-Chuck said from behind.
I looked back, and he disappeared behind the hedge.
A few unopened envelopes lay in front of the door. I lifted one of them with my magic, almost entertaining the idea of this being the wrong house. But the letter was addressed to Rarity, and the old address hadn’t changed.
My guts tightened as I raised my hoof to knock. I held it in the air for a while, blood pounding in my head, and knocked once, twice, three times. My heart beat faster with every second I waited. I held my breath, expecting Rarity to swing the door open at any moment and yell at me when she saw me.
But the seconds dragged on into an eternity, and no one answered.
I put my ear to the door.
Silence.
I tried the door handle.
Unlocked.
I opened the door a crack and looked inside.
The round room was vast and open. Blood-red slits of sunlight shone through gaps in curtains, cutting across a white floor. Naked mannequins stood with their tails to the curving wall, their empty faces staring into the center of the room.
I opened the door wider and took a step inside. “Hello?”
The room swallowed my voice.
I looked back one last time and closed the door behind me. There was no turning back now. It was get the money or die.
I looked around as I wandered into the room.
The ceiling lamps were dead. Specks of dust drifted in the slivers of red sunlight on the floor. The air had a faint smell of cloth. A work table stood beneath shelves stacked with fabric rolls organized by color. Everything looked clean and old, like a space prepared for work, then forgotten about.
I slid my hoof over the work table. Smooth and polished, ready for a new design. It was bigger than the one I remembered Rarity having.
A familiar, wooden toolbox sat on a shelf. I walked up to it and pressed the button on its front.
Clockwork clicked and hummed inside, and the top fanned open into three platforms, presenting scissors, needles, thread, ribbons, and just about everything else a fashionista could need.
I lifted up the biggest pair of scissors in the box—the ones Rarity never let me use. Excitement sparkled through me as I snipped the air.
A childish fear of being caught struck me, and I looked behind for any signs of my sister. But the room was still empty. I smiled back at the scissors, put them in their place, and closed the box.
There were two other doors aside from the entrance. The door ahead of me was slightly ajar. The door to my right had a ‘Do Not Enter’ sign.
I inched my way to the ajar door and opened it, bracing myself for Rarity standing on the other side.
It led into a hallway with a weak light at the end. Paintings lined the right wall, the left wall bare and empty.
I walked inside toward the door on the opposite end, glancing sideways at the paintings on my right.
The painting of a lonely star in the night sky looked familiar.
I stopped.
I knew that painting; it used to hang in my bedroom in our parents’ house. I would stare at that star for hours, wishing I could fall asleep. I looked around at the other paintings, recognizing all of them. Had it really been five years?
I continued past the last paintings toward the light at the end.
The light shone from the top of a staircase. Another hallway opened to my right where the staircase began, stretching on into darkness. There was an empty room to my left—no furniture, no lights.
I started up the staircase toward the light.
A single oil lamp shone at the top of the stairs, casting a dim, flickering glow into a smaller hallway with more doors. Light shone from the slit under one of them.
I approached the door quiet as a thief and stopped outside, listening.
All I could hear was the sound of my racing heart.
I took a moment to swallow my anxiety, and spoke into the door.
“Rarity?”
Silence.
I put my hoof on the door handle and pushed it open.
Warm, stale air washed over me. The room on the other side was dim, red sunlight struggling through curtains drawn across three windows. Shelves, dressers, and mirrors stood against one wall, an oversized bed hidden in drapes against another.
A nightstand lamp on the opposite side of the bed shone through the drapes, casting a silhouette of someone in the bed, chest rising and falling without a sound.
I stared at the figure behind the drapes, barely able to breathe from fear and excitement.
“Rarity?” I waited, so tense I would no doubt bolt away like a rabbit at the smallest sound. But no sound came. I took a step forward. “Rarity?”
The sound of soft breathing drifted up from the other side.
I put my hoof on the drapes, hesitated, and pulled them back.
Rarity lay in a pool of blood, her foreleg slashed open with a deep cut, blood pulsing out on white fur and sheet.
I stumbled back in horror.
A bloody knife lay at her side. Her closed eyelids twitched, but she didn’t move. She was still breathing, if barely. Red soaked much of her white coat.
I stared at the blood dripping from the edge of the mattress. She was going to bleed to death.
I moved up to the side of the bed and raised my hoof like I was going to do something useful, only to realize I had no clue what to do.
A cold thought hit me, and I slowly lowered my hoof. If she died, everything she owned would go to her next of kin. Her only next of kin. Me. I could pay off my debt, spare myself an early grave, and live the rest of my life rich as a princess.
All I had to do was walk away and her fortune would slip into my hooves.
Rarity groaned and shifted in bed.
I froze.
She settled again, unconscious and barely breathing. If it wasn’t for the blood, it would have looked like she was sleeping.
What shade of blue were her eyes? What did her voice sound like? I couldn’t remember any of it, not even the last words I’d said to her on that horrible night five years ago. But for some stupid reason, I remembered her face when I’d screamed it at her: sad, exhausted, broken—just like her face now, teetering on the edge of life.
And in a heartbeat everything changed. The hatred I clung to crumbled away, and all I felt was a terrible dread of losing the last family I had in the world.
I tore off a clean strip of bedsheet, lifted her bloody leg, and wrapped the cloth around the cut, feeling queasy at the touch.
Red soaked the makeshift bandage.
I tore off another strip of bedsheet and wrapped it around the first one, tighter this time.
The bandage stayed white and I stayed in debt.
I stared down at her. Was bandaging the cut enough to keep her alive? How much blood had she already lost? It looked like she had been bleeding for a while.
A jolt of pain crackled through my skull. I winced and sat down on the bloodless part of the bedside. Something felt horribly wrong with my body. Dust hunger. Hadn't smoked in over a day. I breathed harder. My heart pounded. I needed it—just a little to make the pain go away. But I had none, and if there was one place you wouldn’t find a dust dealer, it was Ponyville.
My eyes went to Rarity’s face. She looked half a corpse—a beautiful corpse; she hadn’t aged at all since I last saw her.
I looked away, struggling to control my breathing.
The dark figure of a grandfather clock stood next to the mirror, watching me. It was too dark to see the time, but I could hear it ticking away my seconds. Slowly, slowly. Tick, tack, tick, tack.
The clock clanged out loud as thunder, startling me so hard I almost fell out of bed. The bells inside the clock played a melody of sorts, then began chiming. The clock tower in the town square chimed at the same time, far away, deep and distant. They counted the hours together. Shrill, deep, close, distant, shrill, deep. Nine times. Nine o’clock. Three hours left to live.
Rarity mumbled something in the silence.
I looked down at her like she was a snake about to bite me.
Her bright-blue eyes blinked open.
My heart shot up into my throat, and I felt a violent urge to run and hide.
She squinted at the room like she didn’t know where she was. Her eyes fell on me. “Mom?” she croaked, making a miserable face.
“I-I’m not…” I shifted on the mattress, unsure of whether I should move closer or give her space. “It’s me.” I lowered my eyes. “Sweetie Belle.”
Rarity blinked. “Sweetie?”
I swallowed.
“But you’re… How…?” She looked down at her blood-soaked coat, and her eyes widened. “Get out.”
“It’s okay, I’ve—”
“Get out!”
I scrambled from the bed and out of the room. The door slammed shut behind me, and I stood alone in the dim hallway.
My heart still thundered in my chest. I stood stunned for a moment, then slumped sideways against the wall and sat down on the floor, feeling dazed.
What had I done? Why hadn’t I just let her die? I never should have come here. I never should have borrowed so much money in the first place. Damn but I needed some dust; it felt like my head was about to split open.
I raised my forehooves, about to rub at my throbbing temples, but froze and stared at them instead. My hooves were smudged with her blood. I shuddered.
The bedroom door opened.
I stood up.
Rarity walked right past me, horn glowing to levitate a ball of blood-soaked sheets in front of her. Her otherwise graceful strides wobbled when she put pressure on her bandaged leg. She went into a different room in the hallway and closed the door, a lock clicking behind her.
Something creaked beyond the door, followed by the sound of a shower turning on.
I sank back down against the wall.
A short while passed, and the sound of the shower died.
I looked up.
The door opened and light fanned out into the dim hallway. Rarity stood in the threshold, her mane hanging half-wet over one shoulder. All traces of blood were gone from her coat, but she looked paler than her usual pale, and a blue bandage—the expensive magical type that healed fast—wrapped around her wound in place of mine.
I rose slowly.
She closed the door behind her and held out a wet towel to me. I hesitated, then took the cloth and wiped the blood from my hooves. She took the towel in her magic and moved it out of sight.
We both stood there for a moment in silence without looking at each other.
“Are you thirsty?” Rarity asked.
I looked at her. “What?”
“I have tea.”
Words fled my mind. I could only stare.
She waited a moment, and limped down the staircase, leaving me alone in the dim hallway.
I looked back at her room one last time. The drapes were drawn back, clean sheets clothed the bed, and on the nightstand on the other side was flowerpot with a single flower—twin headed, one white, one blue.
I bit my lip and slowly followed Rarity down the stairs.
The kitchen was immense. Silverware glinted beside gilded porcelain on high shelves. Dimming twilight shone through wide windows. A clock ticked on the wall. Rarity looked tiny in all that space, working a teapot on a stove.
I stared at her from where I sat by a table. My head was hurting again, and I felt dizzy. Everything was too bright.
Rarity turned to lift a tea bag and winced when she put pressure on her bandaged leg.
I stood up, my chair screeching against the floor.
Rarity looked at me. “No. Please. I’m fine.”
I slowly sank back into the chair.
Rarity stood still over the steaming teapot. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”
I looked down. "I didn't either."
She began assembling cups and other items on a silver tray. “You’ve grown.”
“A little, I guess.”
“You’ll be as tall as me at this rate.” She walked over to my table with the tray, not quite succeeding in masking the pain on her face when she walked on her bad leg. “Here you go.” She poured steaming water into a cup and set it down before me.
I looked down at the cup as Rarity seated herself across from me.
“Go ahead,” she said. “It’s lemon.”
“I don’t… like tea.”
“Oh,” Rarity said. “Of course. How foolish of me to forget.” She put my cup back on the tray and began to rise. “I’ll bring you something else.”
“No,” I said, louder than I had intended. “Just… stop for a moment.”
Rarity sat back down.
“I don’t get it,” I said. “How can you be so calm?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“You almost killed yourself.”
Rarity looked away.
“Why the fuck would you even do something like that?”
Rarity flinched. “Don’t… use that word. It’s repulsive.”
I stared at her. “What is wrong with you?” I asked. “You have everything. You’re supposed to be happy.”
“I am happy.”
My mouth fell open. “How can you be so—”
“Will you just ask for the money already?”
I choked up.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? Money?” Rarity stared down at her teacup. “Why else would you come crawling back?”
My heart dropped. Words and insults fled my mind.
“I need to get ready.” Rarity dropped her spoon in her cup and rose from her chair. “I’m late for a gathering.”
I blinked. “Wait, what? You’re going to a party? Now? Are you insane?”
“It’s not a party. It’s a gathering—a late night one. I’m expected to host the ceremony in the town square.”
“The town square? But—”
Rarity took two steps, yelped, and collapsed on the floor.
I hurried over to help her.
“Don’t touch me!” Rarity snapped. She stood up on her own, trembling.
“You’re not going anywhere like this,” I said.
“I wasn’t going to.” Rarity turned away from me. “But then you had to come and ruin everything, just like you always do.”
My jaw dropped. “I saved your life, you ungrateful—”
Rarity disappeared through a door.
I stormed after her.
The room beyond the door was too big to be called a closet. Dresses hung in a row on a rack. Three tall mirrors stood together in a corner. Colorful shoes and hats lined high shelves.
Rarity picked out a dark-blue dress from the rack.
“If you don’t want me here, fine,” I said. “Just give me my money and you’ll never see me again.”
“No.”
“It’s my money!”
“Then why are you asking me for it?”
“You stole it!”
“Stole it?” Rarity looked at me. “Is that what you think I did?”
“What else would you call it?”
“Inheritance.”
“Half of it was mine!”
“You read her will.” Rarity held the blue dress in front of herself, looking in a mirror. “If mom thought you were responsible enough to handle that kind of money, she wouldn’t have left you out.”
I opened my mouth to yell at her about how I hadn’t done anything wrong, but stopped myself. They had had plenty of reason to leave me out of their will. I probably would have drank myself to death or gambled it away or spent it all on dust.
Rarity put the dress on, turning this way and that as she studied herself in a mirror.
Something on the rack caught my eye. I walked up to it and pulled out a familiar dress, holding it before me in my magic. It was white silk with gold lace, simpler than most, but still beautiful.
I ran my hoof over the soft fabric. “Is this…?”
Rarity glanced at me in the mirror. “Mom’s, yes.” She had already combed her long, damp mane into elegant waves.
“You kept her clothes?”
“Dad’s are in a different closet.” Rarity brushed a mascara rod through her lashes. “I never got around to throwing them out.”
“What? You can’t throw their things away.”
“Since when do you care about their things?” Rarity asked. “You didn’t even visit mom in the hospital.”
“That wasn’t my fault. I would have come and seen her if I could. I was busy.”
Rarity stopped applying makeup. “You don’t even remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
Rarity didn’t answer.
“Remember what?” I repeated.
“I found you,” Rarity said, looking away from me in the mirror. “Mom asked for you in the hospital, so I went into that disgusting place with those disgusting individuals abusing that disgusting dust. And I found you, dirty and unconscious and…” Rarity looked pained. “It’s a good thing she passed before she got to see you again. I don’t think her heart could have taken it.”
My chest tightened. “I’m clean now.”
Rarity gave a chuckle.
“I mean it,” I said, looking at her through the mirror with a strange pride. “I’m quitting the dust.”
“Like all the other times you said you’ve quit?”
That threw me off.
“You haven’t changed,” Rarity said. “I can see it in your eyes.”
I scowled, drowning my guilt with anger like I always did. “I don’t need to prove anything to you. I just want what’s mine.”
Rarity tightened her dress and slid the sleeves low enough to hide her bandage.
“It’s my money.”
Rarity continued adjusting her dress like I wasn’t even there.
“What, you think you can just ignore me until I go away?”
She didn’t even look at me.
An old and familiar anger burned inside me, rising to an urge to hit her face until it wasn’t pretty anymore. “Fine,” I said. “I’m going to the party with you.”
Rarity looked at me. “You are not.”
“Yes, I am. I’m not letting you do anything stupid until I get my money.”
“I’m not having you embarrass me in front of my guests.”
“Oh, please,” I said. “I know how to act at parties.”
“I told you, this isn’t a party. It’s a gathering.”
“Same thing. Fancy dress code, right? I’ll just borrow one of yours.” I moved to the most expensive-looking dresses on the rack.
Rarity put a hoof on the rack, keeping me from taking one.
“Do you expect me to go naked?” I reached for a red dress.
Rarity held the dress back. “Your type is not welcome there.”
“My type? At least I don’t slash my own leg open, you freak!”
Rarity let go, and a dozen dresses spilled to the floor.
I glared at her. “You’re more messed-up than I am.”
Rarity looked away, silent.
“You’re…” The look of utter defeat on my sister’s face made me pause.
Rarity turned to the door. “I’m late.”
I watched her walk away, guilt welling inside me. I let out a half-sigh, caught up with her, and put a hoof on her shoulder. “Rarity…”
Rarity jerked her shoulder away and glared at me. “Why is it so hard for you to understand that I don’t want you here? You’re poison, Sweetie Belle. You’ve broken the hearts of everyone who’s ever loved you and you don’t even see it.” She looked away. “I can’t deal with you, not again.” She walked out of the wardrobe. “Go back where you came from. There’s nothing for you here.”
I stood still for a moment, too stunned to speak. I followed her out of the wardrobe just as she opened a door to the garden across the kitchen. “But what about my—”
Rarity closed the door behind her, leaving me alone in the kitchen.
I screamed and knocked the tea tray to the floor. The clock on the wall ticked through my fast breathing. Nine thirty-four. I only had until midnight to get the money.
I glared at the door Rarity had just walked through. Did she really think she could just walk away and have me disappear without a fight? I went back inside the wardrobe, dug through the dresses on the floor, and lifted up the one belonging to our mother—a simple, white dress with gold lace. Not particularly fancy, but it meant something.
I stepped up to the three mirrors and slid the dress on. The white silk clung tightly to my body, but it fit well enough. I would go to Rarity’s party whether she wanted me to or not, and I’d burn the place to the ground if that’s what it took to get what was mine.
* * *
Dusk had blackened to night by the time the road curved into the town square. The vast space didn’t look anything like I remembered. Gone were the old, wooden houses of mismatched shape, color, and size. Structures of brick and mortar now lined the edges of the square, and the dirt had been sealed away by cobbled stone.
But most jarring of all was the looming clock tower at the center of the square, standing in place of where the old town hall had once been. They had barely begun building it when I’d left five years ago. Now it looked old and weathered, as if it had stood there for decades.
I walked into the open space. Rarity had mentioned that the party was somewhere in the town square. My eyes fixed on a particular building at the far end.
Where the surrounding structures were gray stone, this one was white marble, standing half as tall as the great clock tower, with a red carpet running up its curving steps. Rarity couldn’t have made it more obvious where she’d be if she’d written her name on it.
The white fabric of mom’s dress clung to me as I moved among other ponies wandering the square. Most of them carried brightly colored umbrellas on their shoulders. I looked up. Dark clouds were moving in to choke the sky. Maybe a raincoat wasn’t such a bad idea.
My ears pricked up. There was music in the air, faint and distant, but it cut through the dull murmur with life and joy.
I looked around for the source of the music, but couldn’t see much through the mass of ponies moving in the square.
A lance of fire shot up into the air from the base of the clock tower, lighting up the whole square in a slow, orange pulse.
I stopped.
Three acrobats cartwheeled and juggled torches before a small crowd. Fire breathers. They used to perform once a season in Ponyville, and I’d always go watch them when I was a filly.
A street band sat behind them at the base of the clock tower, pounding drums, fiddling violins, and blowing into harmonicas—the kind of music you’d want to jump up on a table and dance to.
I smiled at the nostalgia, but continued on across the square toward the white building. I could come back and throw them a hoofful of bits once I got my money.
I approached the red carpet and took the steps two at a time until I reached the flat space before the entrance.
A stallion in a red suit stood next to the open archway leading into the building, smiling as I approached. “Good evening, miss.”
“Hey.” I moved to walk past him.
The stallion stepped between me and the entrance, all smiles. “May I see your invitation, miss?”
“I don’t need an invitation.” I tried to walk past him again.
He put a hoof on my chest. “I’m afraid I must insist.”
I pushed his hoof away. “And I’m afraid your face needs to be somewhere else.”
“If you do not have an invitation,” he said, keeping his smile, “the common ceremony will be held in the town hall.”
“Do I look like I’m going to some common party? Rarity’s in there, right? She’ll tell you to let me in.”
His inhale suggested irritation, but he spoke calmly. “With all due respect, if Miss Rarity wanted you here, she would have extended you an invitation.”
“Go ask her, then! I’m her sister.”
His smile fell to a frown. “Miss Rarity does not have a sister.”
My heart sank. Had I really been gone that long? Rarity was one of the most famous figures in Equestria. Surely she hadn’t pretended I didn’t exist during her ascent to wealth and fame, had she?
“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” the doorpony said. “Now, please.”
“Fine.” I turned back toward the steps. “Have it your way, then.” I took a breath, pretended to start walking away, then spun back around and bolted past him.
The doorpony gasped. The side of mom’s dress scratched against his uniform. I stumbled inside and found myself in a well-lit room with walls of veined marble. Ahead of me, an archway opened up to a corridor lined with oil lanterns that grew narrower and narrower until they disappeared into a blur of light.
A mare sat at a desk by the entrance to the corridor. She looked up from some papers, round glasses glinting with the glow of oil lamps. She smiled at me and opened her mouth as if to speak.
“Stop!” the doorpony yelled behind me.
I ran for an open door to the right, hearing the stallion's hooves thunder behind me.
The marble floor turned to carpet in a wood-paneled hallway. Another stallion in the same red uniform appeared around a corner, wincing when I darted past him.
A soft crash sounded behind me. I risked a glance back as I rushed down the corridor. The doorpony had run into the other stallion, both of them sprawling on the floor, cursing and snapping at each other.
I grinned, cut a corner, ducked through an ajar door into a dim room, and barged through another into a different hallway. A rich scent filled the air. Warm food. Sounds of chopping, hissing, and occasional shouting drifted through a red door.
A red figure appeared around a corner farther down the hallway. The doorpony’s expression darkened.
I barged through the red door.
Beyond was the biggest kitchen I had ever seen. Ceiling lights glared, bowls and plates clanked and rattled, and ponies in white shouted and cursed at each other as they worked. A nearby chef was cutting onions so recklessly you’d think he wanted to make the whole kitchen cry.
I hid behind a stove, watching the doorpony storm through the kitchen and disappear through another door.
“Miss?” a chef asked, apron stained orange and brown. “You don’t want that pretty dress getting stains in here.”
“Right,” I said, standing up from behind the stove.
“Are you lost?” the chef asked.
“No, no,” I said. “I was just… Where can I find Rarity?”
“The grand hall.” The chef pointed at one of the doors, a different one than my pursuer had gone through. “Through there. Follow the light.”
“Thanks.” I moved through the tight-packed kitchen, weaving between shouting cooks, stacks of plates, and sizzling pans. The door was all steel, and it took some effort to push it open enough for me to peek around the corner.
A wide marble corridor stretched out left and right. Oil lamps shone from both sides of the walls. A short distance to the left, I could see the room I’d first entered through. To my right, the hallway stretched on into a bright light.
I waited another moment to make sure the hallway was empty, then stepped out and walked toward the bright light.
There were paintings on the corridor’s right wall, just like in Rarity’s house. These were bigger, grander, with golden frames—not the simple stuff you’d find at our parents’ house. One was of a sun hiding behind clouds, another of a masked stallion, the next of a theater performer on a stage showered in flowers.
There were many more, all on the wall to my right, stretching on and on. Why didn’t they hang any paintings on the left wall? Seemed like a waste of space to leave half the corridor bare. Maybe it meant something, but it hardly mattered.
I had more important things to worry about, like how I was supposed to convince Rarity to give me the money, or in what gruesome way Chuck-Chuck would kill me if I couldn’t.
One way or another, I had to get that money.
The light at the end swallowed me. I squinted, head pounding at the brightness. My eyes slowly adjusted, and what I saw made my jaw drop.
I stood at the end of a majestic hall of glittering marble. Banners hung between stained glass windows, silverware glinted on tables, and marble pillars, thick as tree trunks, lined the walls. Above it all, five enormous chandeliers burned bright as suns from a dizzyingly high ceiling.
A scattered horde of red-uniformed staff moved about in the hall, carrying plates and cutlery, setting tablecloth and arranging chairs. Four staircases, one tucked in each corner, led up to a gallery overlooking the hall.
The wealth of it all made my blood boil. Had she been living like this while I barely scraped by in the city? She had built her fortune with my money. Half of what she owned should be mine, yet here I was, having to beg for scraps to save my life.
Looked like the party hadn’t started, and the guests had yet to arrive.
My eyes scanned the hall, glancing over servants buzzing about, searching… And there she was, the mare in the dark-blue dress, standing in a group of half a dozen equally overdressed ponies.
My headache rose as I glared at her. I took a breath, stifling the urge to shout profanity at her from across the hall, and walked toward her.
A red-uniformed mare cut across my path, levitating a stack of gold-trimmed plates. She saw me and stepped aside, but not in time. I bumped into her, not hard, but it was enough.
The mare grimaced as the stack of plates wobbled and tilted in the air. Her horn glowed brighter, and the stack of plates stabilized with one teetering on the edge.
I smiled when I heard the plate crash to the floor behind me.
The ponies standing around Rarity turned their heads to me as I approached, and my sister’s expression turned from smile to confusion to utter horror.
“Good evening,” I said, smirking at Rarity as I stopped before the group.
The well-dressed guests shared a look. A gray-maned stallion with a ridiculous black hat smiled and spoke first. “Good evening indeed, my dear lady. I do not believe we’ve met, and I’ve met everyone who is anyone this side of Equestria.”
Rarity stammered something incoherent.
“Sweetie Belle,” I said. “I’m Rarity’s sister.” I dragged out the last word, more than enjoying the look on her face.
“Sister?” asked a mare with a face so powdered she’d pass as a clown. “I was not aware you had a sister, Miss Rarity.”
Rarity’s face twitched, mouth half-open.
“I’ve been out of town for a while,” I said. “Just arrived from the city. I’m here about some money.”
“Finance, you say?” the old stallion with the hat asked, grinning. “From the city? But of course, you must be here regarding the Dream product. Entrepreneurship runs in your blood, to be sure.” He stepped forward and extended a hoof to me. “Please, my company is very interested in—”
“My husband works in finance, as well,” said a mare in a dark, glittering dress twice her size. She stepped in front of the stallion and extended a hoof to me. “You simply must discuss partnership with—”
Another stallion pushed past. “Any opportunities regarding Dream must—”
“Enough!” Rarity snapped.
Everyone closed their mouths and looked at her.
“Please,” Rarity said, lowering her voice and making a pitiful attempt at a smile. “My lords and ladies, this is hardly the time for such things.”
“But, Miss Rarity,” said the stallion with the hat, “The unveiling is on the morrow. I simply do not understand why you will not consider—”
“There you are,” a voice growled behind me.
I turned to see the doorpony approaching us, his forehead beaded with sweat. “Ah,” I said, grinning. “Just in time.”
“I am deeply sorry Miss Rarity,” the doorpony said between breaths. “This mare… I don’t even know where to begin. She—”
“A simple misunderstanding,” I said, smirking at the flustered doorpony. “You can go now.”
"But..." The doorpony narrowed his eyes at me. “Very well, Miss Rarity. My apologies.” And with that, he stalked off, probably on his way to dry-hump his precious invitations.
“Now, Miss Rarity,” said the stallion with the hat. “As I was saying, I—”
“Later, Lord Vadric.” Rarity stepped between me and the other guests. “I should like a moment alone with my... sister.” She took my foreleg in her magic and half-led, half-dragged me away from the others.
“Ow!” I said, trying to pull my leg free. “What are you—”
She swung me into a secluded space behind a pillar. “What in the world do you think you’re doing here?” she hissed. “And what is that you’re wearing?”
“Mom’s dress,” I said. “Not that it’s any of your—”
“Take that off, right now!”
The harshness in her voice took me aback, but I kept the smug tone I knew she hated. “What, and prance around naked at your party?”
Rarity pointed to the exit. “Leave.”
“No.”
She leaned closer to me. “I said, leave.”
“Or what? You’ll throw me out? I’ll make a scene.” I leaned forward until our noses nearly touched. “Do you really want your precious guests to see you throw your own sister kicking and screaming out on the street?”
Rarity pulled her head back, face twitching. She was about to say something when another voice cut through the noise of the hall.
“Miss Rarity!” A mare’s voice. “The wine has arrived.”
Rarity looked back at the mare—another servant. “Just a moment,” Rarity said, poorly masking the frustration in her voice.
“They won’t let us have them until you sign the papers,” the mare said.
“Have someone else sign,” Rarity said.
“I’m sorry, Mistress. It has to be you.”
Rarity looked at me, back at the servant, then back at me again, expression darkening. “You don’t touch anything. You don’t talk to anyone. You don’t move. You don’t even breathe until I return.”
The sternness of her voice brought back a flood of memories of being scolded as a filly, and for a moment I felt like the powerless little sister all over again, unable to stand up for myself or even talk back.
But I had drowned that filly with drink, dust, and bad company years ago. “I’m afraid I’ll do whatever I want until I get my money, Miss Rarity.”
I expected her to snap or yell at me, like she always had. But she didn’t. She held my eyes a moment longer, then looked away, biting her lip like she used to when she was little. She looked paler than usual. She’d lost a lot of blood. I was surprised she was even standing, let alone walking around, hosting a party. That leg of hers must have been hurting a lot.
“I don’t even want to be here,” I said. “Just give it to me and I’ll go.”
“I can’t.”
“I won’t waste it,” I lied. “I’ll use it for something good.” More lies. “I’ll be responsible with it, I swear.” I knew she could tell—she could always tell when I was lying—and the guilt only made me angrier.
“I have things to do,” Rarity said, turning away from me and approaching the mare waiting for her. “I’ll deal with you later.”
“No,” I said. “You’ll deal with me now.” I walked past Rarity and up to the servant. “Wine, you said?” I took her hoof and gave it a shake. “Hi, I’m Sweetie Belle. Rarity’s sister. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Uhm.” The mare’s eyes darted between me and Rarity.
“Come, darling sister,” I announced in the most Rarity-ish tone I could manage without gagging. “We simply must attend to the wine.”
* * *
Glass clinked inside the crate when the stallion set it down on the floor. He presented clipboard and quill to Rarity. She took them in her magic and made a quick twirl on the paper.
“And here, please,” the stallion said. “Date, too. I’m also going to need... Uh...”
Rarity gasped. “Sweetie Belle!”
“What?”
The crate lid clattered to the floor. Hay lined the inside walls, two dozen of flask corks staring up at me.
I pulled a flask up with my magic and held it hovering in front of me, tilting it side to side, watching the red liquid splash inside. I whistled. “This is the expensive shit.”
Rarity made a nervous giggle. “You must forgive my… her. She’s, uh...”
The stallion shrugged. “Your box, your business.” He took the clipboard and quill back. “I just deliver the stuff.”
“Yes, of course,” Rarity said. “Thank you ever so much.”
He tipped his hat, turned, and walked away.
I popped the cork out.
“What are you doing?” Rarity hissed.
“Making sure you’re not being cheated. You can thank me later.”
Rarity snatched the bottle out of the air and eased the cork back into its throat. “I explicitly told you not to touch anything.”
“You bought this stuff with my money,” I said. “I can touch what I want.”
“That is not how this works.”
“The way this works,” I said, jumping down from the crate and glaring at her, “is you give me my money, and you can party as much as you want without me.”
Rarity eased the bottle back into the crate. “How many times do I need to tell you? It’s not a party. It’s a gathering.”
I stepped closer to her. “I don’t care what you call it. I just want—”
“Why is it so hard for you to understand you’re not getting a single bit from me?”
“It’s my money!”
“Your money? If you weren’t so self-destructive and venomous, they might actually have left you something.”
“You’re a liar and a thief.”
“I’m a—” Rarity nearly walked into a mare who’d stopped in front of us.
“Miss Rarity,” the mare said—the same one who’d told her about the wine. “Miss Vindrila is asking for you.”
“She’s here?” Rarity asked.
“In your office,” the servant said.
“You have an office here?” I asked.
“It’s my building. Of course I have an office.”
“Your… building?” I felt dizzy looking around at the vast hall. Just how rich was she?
“Miss Vindrila said it was urgent,” the servant said.
“Excuse me.” Rarity walked past the servant.
I followed her. “Who’s Vindrila?”
“My assistant. And it’s none of your concern.” Rarity stopped in front of a door and looked at me. “Stay here.” She went through the door and slammed it it in my face before I had a chance to see inside.
I tightened my jaw in frustration. She’d treat every guest like royalty but push me aside like I’m dirt? I glanced around to make sure no one was watching, and put my ear against the door. I couldn’t hear anything over the noise of the hall.
I looked up at the nearest window. Raindrops licked the stained glass. It was too dark outside to see, but I knew he was out there, somewhere in the rain, counting down the seconds until he’d kill me.
I could try fleeing, hop on a train going far from the city, but as long as they held my contract, they’d track me anywhere, no matter how far I ran. That money was my only hope.
I opened the door. It led into a small waiting room with an empty desk and two doors. I stepped inside, closing the door to the hall behind me. Voices drifted out from behind one of the doors.
I tried the door handle. It was unlocked. I eased it open a crack and peeked inside.
“So what’s wrong, then?” Rarity asked. “Did they reject it?” She was standing by a huge desk with a rain-glistening window behind it.
“No, but they almost did,” said a unicorn mare standing at the center of the wide office. This one wore a simple dress instead of a red uniform. Not one of the servants, then. Her assistant?
I snuck into the room while they were looking elsewhere.
“Then what’s so urgent?” Rarity asked.
The assistant lifted a parchment from her bag and held it hovering before her. “You’re going to have to fill out another one.”
“So soon?” Rarity asked.
The mare looked concerned. “I tried to warn you.”
“What else would you expect me to do? The mayor’s family asked me personally.”
“You should have said no,” her assistant said.
“I don’t have that luxury. Everyone would know that I turned down the offer. My image would—”
“Your image isn’t worth this.” The assistant stepped closer to Rarity and lowered her voice. “You have a choice, you know you do. Maybe it’s time you just… let go.”
“I’ll fill it out,” Rarity said, taking the parchment and pressing it against the desk.
“Rarity, please…”
“Pen,” Rarity said.
“It’s not too late to—”
“Pen,” Rarity snapped.
The mare didn’t move.
Rarity closed her eyes and sighed. “Please. A pen. Please.”
The assistant slowly took out a pen from her bag. Rarity snatched it in her own magic, pressed it to the parchment, and began to write.
“This will be the last one,” the mare said.
“I’ll figure something out.”
“You always say that.”
“And I always…” Rarity noticed me. “I told you to stay outside!”
The mare turned her head, startling when she saw me. “Who’s that?”
“No one.” Rarity looked back at the paper and continued writing.
“Her sister,” I said.
The mare looked wide-eyed at Rarity. “You have a sister?”
Rarity lifted the parchment from the desk and held it out to her assistant “Go. Get it approved before morning.”
The assistant hesitated. “I’m not helping you do this to yourself any longer.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rarity asked.
“I quit.” She turned abruptly, walked past me, and stopped at the door, looking back at me. “Talk some sense into her if you can.” She walked out of the office, slamming the door behind her.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
Rarity sank down in the big office chair and put her head in her hooves, sighing.
“Was that about money?” I approached the desk. “Can you write me one of those papers?”
Rarity snatched the paper from the desk before I could look at it. “It’s not that kind of paper.”
“Find some other paper, then. What they left us is pennies to you now anyway, and I only want half of it.” I waited for her to snap back at me, but she just sat there, staring at that parchment like it was a death sentence.
The door knocked.
Rarity looked up from the parchment, expression pained. “Not now, please.”
The door opened, and the stallion with the hat and the old mare in the glittering, black dress stepped into the room. The two of them smiled at Rarity, but shot each other thinly veiled scowls whenever their eyes met.
Rarity rolled up the parchment and stuffed it in a desk drawer.
“Miss Rarity,” the stallion with the hat said. “Oh, and Mistress… Belle, was it? Always a pleasure. I do hope we’re not intruding.”
Rarity made a half-attempt at a smile. “I’m afraid—”
“She’s busy,” I said. “We’re talking about money.”
“Family finance,” the old stallion said. “Of course, of course. Most important. Lady Milkheart and I simply wished to—”
“We’ve come to an agreement,” the old mare said.
“An agreement, yes,” the stallion said, eyes narrowing at the old mare beside him. “Given the pressing time schedule and—”
“We wish to purchase one third of your company, together. Twelve million.”
I blinked. “Twelve what?”
“Twelve, yes,” the lord mumbled. “From each of us, of course. A most generous offer, I do believe.”
“You flatter me, Your Lordship,” Rarity said, voice quivering. “Both of you, truly, but surely we can discuss this after the ceremony.”
“The crystallization, Miss Rarity,” the old mare said. “We expect a decision tonight.”
Rarity’s warm expression fell.
“Wait,” I said, looking at Rarity. “Ponies are begging to give you millions, but you won’t give me the—”
“Excuse me,” Rarity breathed, pushing herself from the chair. She stumbled on her first step—her injured leg—and moved past the three of us to the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I said.
“Consider our proposal, Miss Rarity,” the old mare said after her. “It would be unwise not to.”
I followed Rarity out into the hall. “Hey! I’m not done with you.”
Rarity started up one of the corner staircases.
“Where are you…” I said.
She disappeared over the top of the staircase.
I went after her.
The staircase led to the railed gallery overlooking the hall. I caught a glimpse of her going around a corner, and followed.
Another short hallway stretched ahead and up to another set of steps. A cold wind blew down from up there. There were no lamps, and it was too dark to see what was up those steps.
Rarity slowed as she approached the stairs.
I caught up with her, put a hoof on her shoulder, and put myself between her and the steps. “Will you stop?”
She came to a halt and jerked her shoulder away from me, bumping into a wall.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked.
Rarity sank down against the wall.
“Why did you just…” I frowned. “Are you… crying?”
Rarity hid her face. She was breathing hard and shaking.
I approached. “Let me see.”
“No! Don’t… look at me.” She huddled up against the wall, face turned away.
I stared at her. She was sobbing. I hadn’t seen anyone cry in a long time.
“Please,” Rarity whispered. “Just go.”
“You know I can’t. Not until I get my…” Guilt slapped me. What was I thinking, pushing her like this? She had tried to kill herself not even an hour ago, and here I was, making it worse, like always.
I pursed my lips and looked back at the gallery overlooking the hall. No, I couldn’t go. She would never leave me like this, no matter what she thought of me. I looked at her but avoided her eyes. “You look like you could use some help.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re obviously not.”
“And what are you going to do?” Rarity asked. “Make all my problems go away?”
“I don’t understand what possible problems you could have that you can’t just throw money at.”
Rarity didn’t answer.
“At least take a break from the party stuff,” I said.
“I can’t.”
“Why not? You’re the host. It’s your building.”
“A hundred guests are going to walk through that archway within the hour.” Rarity sniffed and stood up. “If everything isn’t perfect by the time they arrive…” Her eyes fixed on a tiny stain on her dress, and she looked like was about to cry all over again.
“Okay, okay, okay,” I said. “Just tell me what needs to be done and I’ll do it for you.”
Rarity said nothing.
“Just trust me for once in your life,” I said. “I’ve thrown lots of parties before. And besides, your face is a mess.”
“What?” Rarity croaked, touching her cheek. Her hoof came back smudged with mascara. “Oh, no.”
“Just… go fix yourself up and take it easy for a minute. What do you need to do that’s so important it can’t wait?”
Rarity looked at me with mascara-running eyes.
“I’m not a filly anymore. I won’t screw up your party. Just tell me how I can help.”
Rarity wiped her eyes. “The band. They need to know what to play.”
“Easy. I can tell them. What songs?”
“The Late Minstrel for the procession,” Rarity said. “After that, anything by Grayhorn will do.”
“Late Minstrel and Grayhorn. Got it. What else?”
“That’s… about it.”
“See?” I said. “It’s no big deal. Everything’s fine. You just relax while I make sure things go smoothly down there, okay?”
Rarity looked like she had more to say, but I turned and hurried back toward the gallery before she had a chance to object.
The hall below was busier than ever, red servants buzzing about like ants preparing a feast for a queen.
I looked down at the stage in the corner of the hall. The curtains had been pulled back, and a band of darkly dressed musicians gathered on the stage, making slow, methodical movements across cellos and violins.
I went down the steps toward them.
Their music filled the air as I approached. It sounded awful: dreary and somber—the kind of music Death probably played when he rowed you to the other shore. Sounded more fit for a graveyard than a party. The guests would hate it. Just the sound of it was enough to drive a mare to suicide.
“Stop!” I called up to them when I reached the stage.
If they heard me, they made no sign of it.
"Hey,” I shouted, louder this time.
They stopped playing and turned their tired eyes to me.
“Yes?” said an old cellist with a half-moon mane.
“You’re fired.”
The cellist looked down at me. It was the kind of situation someone might say, “You’re joking.” But by the looks of him, he didn’t even know what a joke was.
An even more ancient-looking violinist in a dark dress leaned forward. “What?”
"You guys. Fired. Gone. Pick up your stuff and get out."
“Who do you think you are?” asked the cellist.
“I’m Rarity’s sister. She left me in charge of the music.”
The cellist’s eyes widened. “This is preposterous!”
“You can preposterous your asses out of here. You guys play like a funeral band.”
The musicians exchanged looks. "But we are a funeral band!"
I blinked. "You… You are? Wow. I knew she was feeling depressed, but this is just… morbid." I frowned up at them. "Are you guys deaf? Get out!"
The cellist tried speaking again, but coughed instead. Another musician farther back sighed and shook his head. They all rose, packed their instruments, and stalked off the stage with their ancient heads held high, the hall already sounding better without them.
I grinned as they disappeared into the archway. I would give this party what it needed.
I breathed in the the cool air at the top of the curving steps outside. The lamp posts shone halos through the thin rain. Ponies wandered across the square, some in pairs, some alone, their umbrellas of reds and greens and yellows making the square ripple with color.
The doorpony outside didn't look at me. “Miss Belle.”
I smirked. “See? Isn’t it so much easier to just let ponies come and go as they please?”
He did not look amused.
I pricked my ears up. Warm music breathed through the sounds of creaking cartwheels, chattering ponies, and hooves on stone.
I could see the street band at the base of the clock tower. Five of them, tiny in the distance, fiddling tinier instruments, with three others in in colorful clothing cartwheeling and juggling torches in front of them. They would give Rarity’s party the spark it needed.
I grinned and strode down the steps.
"Going somewhere?" a deep voice asked.
I startled so hard I missed the last step and stumbled onto the cobblestones. I scowled to the side. “What are you doing here?”
Chuck-Chuck sat in the shadow of the stone railing on the lowest step. Someone might have mistaken him for a homeless pony, if Ponyville had homeless ponies.
“Bouncer wouldn’t let me in,” he said.
“No, what are you doing here? I don’t want you anywhere near my sister.”
“I’ll always be close,” he said without looking at me.
“But you’ll let a single bouncer stop you? Some killer you are.”
“His time hasn’t come yet,” he said. “Yours is much more interesting.”
I fought down a shudder. “Why did they send someone so damn creepy? Were they out of normal scumbag thugs?”
“Normal scumbag thugs don’t do the things I do.” He looked me in the eye. “Where’s the money?"
I looked away. “I’m working on it.”
“Not as simple as just dropping by and picking it up, is it?”
“I said I’ll get it.”
“I’m starting to hope you won’t.” A fine white smoke rose from his mouth when he spoke, glittering faintly when it caught the light of a nearby lamp post.
My eyes widened. “You’re smoking dust? Now?” I looked around to check if anyone was looking at us. “Are you insane?”
Chuck-Chuck’s horn glowed, and more thin smoke snaked out from his raincoat and into his mouth. He must have been igniting a gemstone inside a pocket. It wouldn’t set his raincoat on fire—gem dust was more magical than physical, and when it burned, it burned cold.
He breathed out a puff of glittering white smoke. “What does the dust show you?”
“What?”
“When you smoke, what do you see?”
I looked away, frowning. “Nothing.”
“Everyone sees something.” He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. “I see the invisible clock in everyone’s hearts, the hour written in stone since birth.” He put a hoof against his ear. “Even without the dust I can hear them ticking away.”
“It isn’t real,” I said.
“The dust doesn’t lie.” He looked up at me. “What does it show you?”
I swallowed, thinking back to the moonlit lake. There was a genuine curiosity in those white eyes of his. “A memory,” I heard myself answer. “From long ago.”
“Must be a good one,” he said. “To make you come back to see it over and over and over.”
I eyed the smoke with hunger, remembering the warmth and sense of belonging that the lake always provided.
“Do you know why most poisons are white?” he asked. “And why so many antidotes are blue?”
I forced myself to look away from the smoke and walked into the square. “I don’t have time for this.”
“Money’s the other way,” he called after me.
I kept walking. He didn’t matter. Rarity needed help and I’d be damned if I’d let some city scumbag stop me. And I needed that money—getting her mood up seemed like a good way to get it.
A small crowd was gathering this side of the square. The party guests were easy to pick out, wearing rich, darkly colored clothing and hiding under black umbrellas.
The rain didn’t bother me. Umbrellas could be expensive in the city, and anything expensive could be sold or traded for dust. A wet mane was nothing new.
I made my way through the growing crowd, feeling better with every pony I put between myself and the debt collector.
Pain crackled through my skull. I winced and stopped in the open square. “Damn,” I whispered, rubbing my forehead. The familiar aching crept across the sides of my head, throbbing at my temples, pushing behind my eyes.
I looked back. The ponies in the square obscured the lower steps, and Chuck-Chuck and his dust pipe were nowhere to be seen. Maybe I should have asked him for a quick drag.
An orange glow flashed in the corner of my eye. The fire breathers. They were close. I could hear the music drifting up from the base of the clock tower.
I kept walking. The dust could wait. I could tough it out for a little longer. I had to get that band before the party started.
My head swam. The world bobbed and spun and tilted. Alarmed, I tried to stop, but only staggered sideways like a drunkard. I could feel the headache in my teeth. The shadows of a hundred oblivious ponies wandered past me, around me, through me.
There was a painful emptiness in my lungs that no amount of air could satisfy. The hunger began choking me. I couldn’t breathe. All sound faded until there was only the thumping blood in my throat. The street lamps shone brighter and brighter until the world was a yellow blur. I clenched my eyes shut and gritted my teeth.
Something bumped against me. I reached out and clung to it, whatever it was. I was barely able to stand on my own. Something shook me by the shoulders. I opened my eyes, dazed, and saw Chuck-Chuck’s ugly face scowling down at me.
“Breathe,” he said.
I heaved for air, trembling. I pushed myself away from him, staggered a few steps, and fell on three knees, coughing and feeling sick.
A stallion with a blue umbrella stepped up to me. “Miss, are you all right?”
“Piss off!” Chuck-Chuck snarled.
The stallion scurried away.
“Get up,” Chuck-Chuck said.
“Don’t touch me, you—”
“You’re making some serious effort at pissing me off.”
A sound drifted through the rain. Music. Faint, distant, but full of life. It was always there—I had just forgotten. I moved toward it.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Chuck-Chuck asked.
I heard him following. I walked faster.
The crowd was denser here. The music grew louder, clearer. Quick strides of fiddles, bashing of drums, melodic chirping of a harmonica.
A lance of fire flashed through the rain above the ponies in front of me, dying as quickly as it appeared.
I pressed through the colorful umbrellas and emerged in a small clearing in the shadow of the clock tower. And there they were: three ponies in ridiculously colored clothes and five ragged musicians playing their instruments. I stood there entranced, watching the band of five keep in rhythm with each other as the acrobats performed. They looked poor, wet, and dirty, but they smiled and stomped their hooves despite the rain.
I took a breath, stepped forward, and shouted over the music. “Hey!”
They kept playing.
I raised my voice. “Hey!”
One of the players turned his head to me. “What?” she shouted back, still fiddling her violin.
“I need you,” I shouted back, barely hearing myself over the music. “All of you. I’ll pay.”
That last part made the rest of the band turn their heads, but none of them stopped playing.
“Need what?” said the stallion with the drums.
“You,” I said. “The music. Everything.” I pointed up at the huge white building across the square. “Up there.”
The band looked up at the building, then back to me. “That there’s for fancy ponies,” the drummer shouted. “They got their own music.”
“I’m from up there, and I say I’m hiring you.”
The music petered out as they, one by one, stopped playing. “She does look like she’s from up there,” said the mare with the harmonica.
“Bit wet, though,” said the violinist.
“I’ve always had that effect on— Ow!” The drummer rubbed his half-bald head. “What did you do that f—”
The violinist hit him again with her bow.
“You’re serious?” asked the mare with the harmonica.
“How much?” asked the drummer, rubbing his head.
I grinned. “Fifty bits for each of you.”
“Fifty?” the violinist asked, eyes wide. “For one night?”
“That’s right.” I looked to the fire breathers. “Same deal for you three. I need some real entertainment in there.”
“No,” Chuck-Chuck’s deep voice said beside me.
I looked sideways at him. I hadn’t even noticed him sneaking up on me. I looked back to the band. “You start now. Pack up and follow me. It won’t be long until the…”
Chuck-Chuck stepped between the me and the band. “No. Spending. Money.”
I frowned, wincing at a stab of pain in my head. “My sister will cover it.”
“Then why am I sitting out in the rain when I could be on my way out of this shithole with the money?”
“You’ll get it. I just need—”
Chuck-Chuck glared at me like some wild animal. “You’re not spending a single bit until your debt is paid.”
“But—”
“Turn around, get in there, and don’t come out until you have the money.”
I swallowed. “You don’t understand. My sister needs—”
“I don’t care about your damn sister. The only thing that whore needs to—”
I hit him.
He winced, touched his cheek, and looked at me with an expression somewhere between shock and fury. He raised his hoof to strike me.
I cringed, closing my eyes.
Nothing happened.
I opened my eyes. He stood still, hoof in the air, looking at something behind me. I followed his gaze to three guardsponies walking in the square. They wore no weapons that I could see, and their blue uniforms didn’t look nearly as menacing as the ones in the city.
Chuck-Chuck slowly lowered his hoof, his expression hard, and looked at me with eyes that screamed ‘I’ll hurt you later.’
I’d always been small and weak, even when I pretended not to be. But it wasn’t fear that clouded my mind in that moment; it was pure, burning hatred for this disgusting creature who represented everything I was trying to escape.
I screamed like a theater performer. “Release me, you ruffian!"
Every head in the square turned in our direction.
I reached out with my magic, took hold of his hoof, and slammed it into my face, making a dramatic fall to the cobbled ground.
The nearby ponies gave a collective gasp.
"What the..." Chuck-Chuck said.
"Hey!" a nearby stallion shouted.
Chuck-Chuck's eyes went from me on the ground, to the hoof he had just hit me with, to the group of angry guards charging toward him, and finally back down at me, his mouth hanging open.
I grinned.
A uniformed stallion slammed Chuck-Chuck to the ground with a grunt.
Another guardspony jumped on top of him. A third stepped up beside me, offering me a hoof. "Miss, are you alright?"
"Oh heavens, no," I said, putting on the sort of face I imagined Rarity having after tearing stitches on a dress. "This... This vicious criminal attacked me out of nowhere!” I let the guard help me to my hooves.
"You—oph!"
The biggest of the three kneed Chuck-Chuck’s stomach and pressed his head against the ground.
"Thank you ever so much for coming to my rescue," I said. "I dare not even think what he would have done if you three brave stallions had not come when you did."
"It’s our...” The second guard grunted as he struggled against Chuck-Chuck’s squirming. “...pleasure.”
“You will take him to the dungeons, won't you?" I put on a nervous face. "I fear I will not be able to sleep at night if he’s not locked away."
The guards looked at each other. “We don’t... have a dungeon.”
“Ah,” I said. “Of course.” Why would Ponyville need a dungeon? “Just… keep him somewhere he can’t hurt anyone for a while, will you?”
“We’ll keep him under watch, Miss, you can rest assured of that. This scum has no place on the streets of Ponyville.” The third guard grinned and stood a little straighter. “Would you like us to escort you anywhere? I would be more than happy to—”
“Oh, no,” I said, smiling the way stallions loved. “I’m quite fine on my own, thank you.” I eyed Chuck-Chuck while the other two pulled him to his hooves and clasped shackles around his legs.
My chest tingled at a thought.
I leaned in closer to the debt collector, reaching into his raincoat with my magic, feeling glass vials, knives, a pipe, and… a pocket with what felt like half a dozen tiny stones.
I pulled out a dust gem and quickly hid it in a fold in my dress.
Chuck-Chuck eyed me in icy silence.
“I’ll bail you out when I have the money,” I whispered to him, hoping against hope that he’d understand. “I need to get it my way.”
The guards gave the debt collector a shove and marched him away past the acrobats, who stood staring and whispering to each other, their torches hovering still in the air.
Even with Chuck-Chuck restrained, I couldn’t run. Until a collector cleared my contract, either with my repayment or my death, they’d be able to track my magic anywhere. But I had time, and I would use it well.
* * *
“And make sure it’s something cheerful,” I said to the ragged band as they settled on the stage in the great hall. “Set a good mood for the party, you know?”
A few of the servants still cast strange looks at the newcomers, but none of them questioned it. Even that stuck-up doorpony had let them through once I told him to. Word had gotten around that Rarity’s sister was in town.
“Are you sure this is appropriate?” the drummer asked, the only one of the company who wasn’t still gaping at the lavish hall.
“I’ll make it appropriate,” I said. “I want the music to be so good the dead themselves leap from their coffins to dance.”
“When did you say we’re getting paid for this?” the violinist asked.
“Later. My sister will take care of it. Just pull back the curtains and do your thing when the guests arrive.”
“But...”
I tugged the curtains closed in front of the stage, hiding the band, and grinned out at the hall.
A small group of servants dispersed when my eyes fell on them.
“Hey,” I called, cornering one of them against a table. “Where’s Rarity?”
“Uh… She hasn’t been on the floor for a while, Miss… Belle."
“She hasn’t come down yet?” I looked up at the gallery, concern wiping away my smile. She’d been in a awful state when I’d left her. She hadn’t done something bad while I was away, had she?
I hurried to the nearest staircase and up to the gallery, turning the corner to the short hallway I’d left her in.
She wasn’t there.
The hallway only led one way: a flight of steps going up into shadow. I could just barely make out a glass door up there in the dark, standing half open, curtains stirring in the cold wind.
A cold wind blew against me as I walked through the glass door.
Rarity stood at the tip of a curving balcony overlooking the town square. A stone ceiling kept the balcony dry, the rain falling in a thin sheet just in front of her. White and blue flowers decorated the balustrade, the same kind as the one on the nightstand in her room.
The glass door clicked shut behind me.
Rarity turned her head, saw me in the corner of her eye, and looked back out at Ponyville’s carpet of light. “Your mane is wet.”
I looked up at the damp hair above my eyes. “I had to get something outside.” I squinted at the town's brightness as I approached Rarity. “What are you doing up here?”
“I need to water the plants,” Rarity said, pouring water from a can into one of the flowerpots. She had reapplied her makeup, all signs of runny mascara cleared away.
I stopped beside her and looked down over the balustrade. My stomach twisted at the height. The balcony was almost half as high as the clock tower, the marble steps sickeningly far below.
A mass of black umbrellas had gathered a short distance from our building, looking like a dark tumor against the colorful umbrellas moving around it.
“Place looks different,” I said.
“A lot can change in five years.” Rarity stepped to the side and watered the next flower on the balustrade.
“Don’t you have someone you pay to water your plants?”
“I did,” Rarity said. “Now I take care of them myself.”
I looked closer at one of the plants. They all had two flowerheads, one white and one blue, growing from the the same stem. “What are these anyway?”
Rarity let the water trickle over their leaves. “Lilium Somniorum.”
“Lismnu-what?”
“Dream lilies,” Rarity said.
“Like that stuff in all the billboard ads?”
“Perfumes, oils, lotions. Every scented beauty product you can imagine.” Rarity walked along the balustrade, turning leaves, inspecting them. “I also ship them in bulk to the highest bidders.”
I leaned in and sniffed a white flowerhead. “They don’t smell like anything.”
Rarity stopped by a bigger flower, twin-headed like the rest of them. “Come here.” Her magic wrapped around the stem and tore it in half. A translucent, blue liquid dripped from the broken stem.
“Doesn’t that kill it?” I asked.
“It’s dead already,” Rarity said. “Do you see the black spots?”
I squinted at the blue flowerhead. Its petals did look darker than the others lilies, parts of it smudged with black.
”When one head withers, the other follows,” Rarity said. “One half cannot live without the other.” She brought the broken stem closer to me. It was green on the outside, blue on the inside, with a drop pooling at the broken end. “Smell it.”
I leaned in and sniffed the stem. A sharp scent burned up my nostrils. I recoiled, wrinkling my nose. “That’s strong.”
Rarity stuffed the broken flower into a white sack and put it out of sight. “Now wait.”
“For what?”
“Be patient.”
I pursed my lips. “I don’t…” But then I smelled something. A light, sweet aroma lingering in the air, unlike anything I’d smelled before. Warm and pleasant, then cold, then warm again. I breathed it in. The scent grew thicker, more poignant, like an exotic fruit steaming in the sun.
Something tingled at the back of my mind. And somehow, the scent brought out the image of the moonlit lake in my mind’s eye. Not nearly as vividly as when I was on dust, but enough to bring back a mild sense of warmth and belonging.
“What... is that?” I asked as the memory faded.
Rarity smiled, and it didn’t look forced. “It’s the lilies.”
I looked at the white and blue flowers. “Really?”
Rarity touched the petals of a blue flowerhead. “They’re scentless at first. Invisible. Forgettable. If you found one in the wild, you would walk right by without giving it a thought. But their scent is always there, hidden away until you let their blood burn you.” She looked up. “It made you remember something, didn’t it?”
I nodded.
“Their scent enhances your memory for a short while,” Rarity said. “I don’t know how, but it’s truly remarkable. The locals up north even claim it has healing properties, but what it’s supposed to cure, I have no idea. I simply figured they’d make fantastic beauty products. Who wouldn’t want a secret scent that brought back memories of happier times?”
Thinking back to the moonlit lake made me uncomfortably aware of the tiny dust gem pressing at me from inside mom’s dress. The only time I ever truly remembered the lake was when I was on dust. I swallowed. “I bet you’ll make good money on them.”
“Yes.” Rarity’s smile fell. “Good money.” She looked out at the town. “I’ll be the richest mare in Equestria, won’t I?”
“You say it like it’s a bad thing.”
Rarity looked down at the lilies. A breeze rustled their leaves. She turned to me, her horn glowed, and I felt the touch of her magic on the top of my head.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Fixing your mane,” she said.
“My mane is fine.”
“Oh, Sweetie. How have you even survived on your own for so long? Here.” She pulled something silvery from a fold in her dress.
“Is that…? Why do you have a comb in your dress?”
“For emergencies,” she said. “Now hold still.”
She worked the comb through my curls, easing it through tangles, twisting it up and back with delicate skill. She stepped closer, tilting her head as she worked. It felt strange having her so close again, in a warm and comforting way. Her breath smelled like mint, her perfume like lavender. How could someone so beautiful be so sad?
“I said hold still,” Rarity said.
I flushed and looked down from her face. “When was the last time you did my mane?”
“When you were eleven,” she said. “I tried making it for your twelfth birthday, but you weren’t having any of it.”
“You remember that?”
“You’ve always been rather memorable,” she said. “But the dream lilies also help bring back things you thought you’d forgotten.”
She sprayed a mist of liquid on my mane from a pink bottle she had gotten from somewhere. It smelled sweet, though the rich scent of the lilies overshadowed it. I closed my eyes and found myself enjoying the comb brushing against my head, the warmth of Rarity’s breath against my cheek.
I breathed in the flower-scented air, and a fog of memories swirled in my mind: the smell of fabric in the old boutique, Mom and Dad visiting in summer, the sound of laughter of half-remembered friends. The memories made my heart ache.
I opened my eyes.
Rarity was still concentrated on my mane. She glanced at me, smiling when our eyes met. “It’s quite something, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.” I looked at the lilies on the balustrade. “Quite something.”
“Do you remember their house?” Rarity asked.
“Mom and Dad’s?”
“Yes.” Rarity paused. “Do you miss it?”
“No,” I lied.
“Everything was so simple back then.”
“Since when do you like simple?” I asked.
“Since everything became so complicated.”
The image of a moonlit lake flashed in my mind again, and I felt nauseous. The gem in my dress was too hard to ignore. This dream lily stuff was just a painful tease; the dust did so much more than just make you remember.
“Where are your friends?” I asked. “I mean, if things are so complicated.”
“Oh, we still meet once a year or so to dress up and eat cake.” Rarity sighed. “But even the best of friends can drift apart.”
I looked down. “Yeah.”
Rarity kept working on my mane.
“But hasn’t anyone noticed?” I asked. “That you’re not doing so well?”
Rarity didn’t answer.
I looked up at her. “You hide it well, don’t you?”
“There,” Rarity said. “Much better.” She let go of my mane, and I felt a little sad that it was over. “You’re beautiful, Sweetie. It’s criminal not to let yourself glow.”
I touched the curls of my mane. It was softer, smoother, and with a bit of a shine to it. It even smelled nice. “Does this mean you’re okay with me being at your party?”
“You’ve made it quite clear you’re not going anywhere.” Rarity tucked the comb into her dress. “You might as well look presentable.”
I smiled.
Rarity still looked anxious.
“You know," I said, “if parties stress you out so much, you don’t have to throw them.”
“If only it were that simple.”
“I took care of the music for you, if that helps.”
“Telling the band what to play isn’t much to help with.”
“You’d be surprised,” I said, feeling the dust hunger subsiding for the moment.
Rarity leaned against the balustrade and looked out at the square. “You really want that money, don’t you?”
The change of topic threw me off. I looked away. “I wasn’t going to bring it up again for a while.”
She looked toward the dark horizon far, far away. “Did it… occur to you?”
“Did what occur to me?”
“My fortune,” she said, the cold wind stirring her perfect mane. “My supposed mountain of wealth. Where would it all have gone if I simply... went away?”
My stomach sank. I said nothing.
Rarity slowly put her forehooves on the balustrade, stood up on her hind legs, and leaned forward over empty space.
“Whoa,” I said. “What are you doing?”
She looked down over the edge. “You must have at least considered it, when you found me like that. Such a vast fortune, and no next of kin to inherit.” She looked sideways at me with blue, tired eyes. “No one but you.”
I felt a sick tingling in my gut. I opened my mouth to lie, but no words came. She was serious—I could see it in her eyes. She would fall if I let her.
“It’s what you want, isn’t it?” She leaned a little farther over the edge.
My body tensed, but I didn’t move.
The rain tickled the tip of her mane. Her eyes stayed on the hard steps far below. “It could all be yours, all that wealth, and all it would take is a little…” She made a low, falling whistle and popped her lips. “...drop.”
She teetered on the edge and slowly, slowly leaned forward.
“No!” I rushed forward and grabbed her waist, holding her back. “No,” I breathed. “No.”
She was trembling. No, I was the one trembling.
“Why?” she asked.
“I can’t,” I said. “I just can’t.” I clung to my sister, feeling her warmth through our mother’s dress.
“What if this is what I want?” Rarity asked. “What if it’s all I want?”
“I won’t let you.” I held her tighter. “I thought I didn’t care, but I do. I kept telling myself I could always turn my life around and make things right. But I didn’t. And now Mom and Dad are gone. You’re all I have left. If I lose you, too, I can’t..."
I listened to her breathing, felt the touch of her heartbeats between the hammering of my own.
“I’m hurting, Sweetie,” Rarity whispered against the wind. “I wish so much that it wasn’t too late.”
The clock tower boomed out a thunderous note. I startled with a gasp. Rarity didn’t move. The bell rang out again, and the mass of black umbrellas in front of the building stirred, a few stragglers starting up the marble steps, tiny, black figures on white.
“It’s beginning,” Rarity said. And just like that, she leaned back and stepped down to the balcony floor, forcing me to let go of her.
The bell rang out again and again, slow and deep, counting the hours.
Rarity straightened her mane. Her horn glowed, and the glass door swung open, curtains flowing out to the sides.
“Wait,” I said.
Rarity stopped in the open door.
“I don’t know why you’re like this... but I want to help you. I know you don’t believe me, but I’m really trying to be better.” I took a step forward. “I don’t want to leave again. I want to stay with you. I want… I want to try again, make things the way they were before it all fell apart.”
The tower’s bell rang for a tenth time, and fell silent.
“We’ll talk after the gathering,” Rarity said. She raised her chin, took a breath, and strode inside, leaving me alone on the balcony.
I looked back at the lilies, almost smiled, and followed her into the warmth of the building.
“Coming through,” I said, pushing my way to the front of the crowd of red-uniformed staff.
There was a wide space between the gathered ponies and the archway. Oil lamps still burned along the walls of the corridor leading to the reception. There was movement at the end of it: ponies stirring, probably guests itching for the party to start.
I looked around the front of the staff.
The several dozen red-clad servants stood in a half-moon formation around the archway, with Rarity at the front in her dark-blue dress. She was smiling. Forcing it, of course. Why couldn’t anyone see that she was struggling?
“So,” I said, squeezing myself in between a servant and Rarity at the center of the formation, “party’s about to begin, huh?”
“The gathering, dear, yes. Try to stand still.”
I looked down at my shifting hooves. “Are you sure we’re supposed to stand all front and center like this?”
“You can stand at the back if you prefer.”
“No,” I said, willing myself to stand still. “I like it here. I’m just a little excited is all.”
“It’s not the kind of gathering you’d be excited about.”
“Oh, I think it is.”
Rarity looked at me. “What are you grinning about?”
“You’ll see.”
Something stirred at the far end of the archway: two rows of stallions beginning the long march toward the hall.
Rarity opened her mouth, but a booming voice from the other side of the archway cut through the air first.
“Make way for the honorable mayor of Ponyville!”
The stallions approaching through the archway carried some kind of box between them, its polished wood glinting in the lamplight. More ponies followed behind them, all dressed in dark, dreary colors.
The shadow of the archway slid across them as they emerged into the light of the hall.
“What…” I breathed, eyes widening when I saw what the foremost stallions were carrying. “Oh.”
A coffin.
Something moved in the corner of my eye. The stage curtains rippled and stirred, then pulled open, revealing the street band. They grinned, tapped their cheap instruments once, twice, thrice, and raised their bows and drum sticks high over their heads.
I drew breath to shout something, anything.
Music loud enough to drown out a bar fight broke into the hall.
Rarity’s eyes widened in horror at the cheerful tune. Guests and staff gasped, looking around for the source of the music. The sound was fit for a tavern packed with cheers and laughter. There was no laughter here.
“Belle!”
I cringed, expecting Rarity to lash out at me. But it wasn’t Rarity’s voice. It was deeper. Much deeper.
My bones turned icy cold. A brutish stallion in a raincoat shoved himself to the front of the crowd. Chuck-Chuck.
“How the…” I breathed.
There was a sound of plates and glasses crashing behind me. All heads turned with mine to see the three acrobats cartwheeling across the tabletops, their colorful patchwork clothes flapping about as they knocked over vases and sent silverware clattering to the stone floor.
Rarity gaped as the three of them leaped to the floor, raised burning matches to their mouths, and breathed cones of fire high into the air.
The guests reared at the fireballs dissipating in front of their noses. The banner over the archway caught fire. Ponies cursed and shoved. The coffin slammed to the floor. Wood cracked, splinters flew, and the mayor’s corpse sprawled out on the floor in a shower of flower petals.
The band’s music sputtered and stumbled, but to their credit, they kept playing.
Chuck-Chuck stepped over the corpse on the floor. There was mud on his raincoat and blood on his hooves. He knocked one of the fire breathers aside and charged at me.
I tensed, heart in my throat, and threw myself to the side.
Chuck-Chuck missed me, but knocked into Rarity instead, sent her crashing to the floor.
I winced watching her fall, took a step toward her, but stopped short when a rough hoof grabbed my shoulder.
The big brute loomed over me. “You...” he snarled through clenched teeth, “unbelievable...”
Screams from a dozen ponies drowned out his voice. A burning banner tore in half, its lower half dangling close enough over the guests for the flames to lick their hats.
A group of waiters bumped against Chuck-Chuck on their way toward the archway, making his hold on me slacken.
I wrenched myself free and stumbled backward, anticipating that I would bump into someone behind me, and nearly falling over when I didn’t.
The hall descended into utter chaos as the fire spread to tablecloth and furniture and wooden ceiling. Servants and guests flowed past me like water on their way to the gallery stairs or the yawning archway.
My throat tightened. Tears pressed against my eyes. I took a trembling breath, clinging to a table behind me like driftwood at sea, eyes darting through the shifting mass of ponies.
A blue dress amongst the black and red caught my eye. Rarity stood under the archway, looking back at the burning hall.
“Rarity!” I shouted, but my voice was lost among a hundred others.
Fleeing guests pushed at her, forcing her to move toward the exit until she disappeared into the lamplit corridor with the rest of the flood.
I let go of the table and hurried toward the archway.
One of the windows shattered from the heat, a million pieces of colored of glass scattering across the floor.
I raised a hoof to shield my face, but none of the shards fell near me.
The band's music died. Another window shattered on the opposite wall, then another, and another. The fire was spreading fast.
Cool air rushed in through the broken windows, and the flames inside roared higher. Smoke rushed toward the new openings, stinging my eyes, so thick I could barely see.
I coughed and stumbled through the sooty fog. The crowd was thinning; most had already gotten out.
A tall, black figure rose in the gray smoke ahead of me.
I stopped.
The shadow in the smoke lumbered toward me, eyes glinting with firelight.
I stepped backward, ice running down my spine.
Chuck-Chuck’s face came into view through the smoke, his expression hard and cold like someone about to put down a sick dog. He walked faster, the fire spreading along the furniture behind him.
I turned and ran between the tables, coughing, the smoke growing thicker and the world dimmer with every stride I took. I looked over my shoulder.
The fire at the front of the hall was an orange smudge in the haze.
I ran into something at full speed—a chair maybe. I stumbled a few more steps, hit a table, and fell to the stone floor, biting my tongue.
I moaned and propped myself up on a knee. The murky world spun around me. I could hardly see past the tip of my nose.
Chuck-Chuck came charging through the smoke, roaring like a bull.
I ducked sideways against a table.
He anticipated it and slammed into my shoulder, sending me back to the floor with him falling over me. I slid on the floor until I hit a chair, pain lancing down my side.
Chuck-Chuck slowly stood up a few strides away.
I breathed so fast I felt dizzy, pain and aching forgotten in the terror of the moment. My eyes fixed on a big, silvery pot on a table. I charged my horn, wrapped my adrenaline-fueled magic around the pot and hurled it at him.
He flicked his head, horn flashing. The pot jerked sideways in the air, missing him, but the lid flew open, its steaming contents splashing onto him.
He staggered into a table, silverware rattling. The pot crashed to the floor and rolled away. He wiped steaming soup from his face and groaned through bared teeth.
I crawled away from him, my shoulder spasming with pain.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” his voice cut through the smoke. “Who I am. What I am?” He followed after me as slowly as I crawled.
My shoulder went numb. I shrank against the legs of a chair and looked up at him, heart pounding in my chest.
“The harder you push me away, the harder I strangle you,” he said. “You don’t run from me. You don’t escape me!” He closed the gap between us and he loomed over me. “Why do you insist on fighting the inevitable?” The muscles in his neck twitched. “Your time ran out a long time ago.”
The smoke lifted for a moment, and the vaulted ceiling high above came into view, its wooden beams glowing red and spitting embers.
I looked down at Chuck-Chuck, and up to the ceiling again. I tightened my jaw, grabbed a burning beam with my magic, and pulled at it with all my strength.
The ceiling crackled, and dust and ashes fell around us.
Chuck-Chuck leaned over me, and his eyes almost looked sad. “Why can’t I make you see?”
There came a loud crack above, and the burning beam fell free.
Chuck-Chuck looked up.
I heaved myself over, pushed against a table leg, and scrambled away as fast as my aching body could muster.
A deafening crash shot out behind me as I scrambled away. I crawled until the crashing sounds ended behind me, and looked back.
A pile of burning rubble lay where Chuck-Chuck had stood a moment before. One of his legs stuck out from under a massive beam, raincoat smoldering, smaller chunks of burning wood falling from the ceiling and adding to the smoldering pile.
I watched until only dust and ashes fell from the rafters, then let the back of my head sink against the floor and lay there panting and coughing.
My head pounded. Every inch of my body throbbed with pain and fatigue. I needed to smoke something fierce, to drift away to the moonlit lake where there was no pain or loneliness. But I didn’t have the strength to reach into my dress for the gem.
Bells rang in the distance. Not the clock tower’s—faster, higher, more urgent. It felt like they had been ringing for a long time. There were voices too, shouting over the crackling fire. It almost sounded like someone was shouting in my ear.
I groaned, trying raise my head to see.
The world bobbed up and down. I was on a stallion’s back, watching my forelegs swaying over the floor. A voice next to me said something, but I couldn’t make out the words.
Ponies in firefighters' uniforms moved through the smoke, horns glowing, water snaking through the air after them.
I lay still and watched the floor move beneath me, too exhausted to question or protest or cry.
The stallion carried me into the archway. The oil lamps had shattered, shards of glass glinting on the floor. All that remained of the beautiful paintings on my left were drooping, blackened husks.
The bells rang louder and louder as the floor turned from scorched carpet to clean marble. The smoke thinned, and fresh, cool air hit me like I’d been dumped in ice water.
I drew in a sharp breath and coughed, shuddering at the cold and wincing at the deafening fire bells.
The firepony carrying me sat me down at the top of the steps outside. “Wait here. Someone will see to you.” He turned and strode back into the burning building.
“Wait!” I wheezed after him. “Where is she? Where...”
The firepony disappeared into the smoke.
My eyes stung. Orange firelight shimmered across the wet cobblestones of the square. A large crowd had gathered some distance from the steps, more ponies flooding in from all sides to see the fire.
And in front of them all stood a mare in a dark-blue dress smudged with black.
“Rarity!” I stumbled down the steps, felt the thin rain on my face. “Rari—” I coughed as I reached her. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Her dress was spotted with black soot, but she didn’t look injured.
I cringed. “Before you start shouting, let me explain.”
Her eyes were turned above me, back at the fire, her lips sealed.
“It wasn’t…” I lowered my eyes. Trails of sooty rainwater ran down my coat. “I didn’t mean...”
Rarity looked numb, staring at the rising smoke behind me like it held some kind of answer.
“You could have told me it was a funeral,” I said, frustration drowning my guilt. “How was I supposed to know? None of this would have happened if you’d just—”
Wood creaked and crashed behind me. Bright light flared across the square and surrounding buildings. I turned to see a hail of sparks rising through the smoke.
I looked away from the searing light and closed my eyes, gritting my teeth against the pounding headache.
When I opened my eyes a moment later, the glow was gone and Rarity was walking away, the crowd parting before her.
I looked back at the burning building and cringed. “Oh, fuck…” I pushed into the crowd after her. “Rarity, wait!”
The town square was empty behind the crowd, the clock tower standing tall and lonely in all that open space. I caught a glimpse of Rarity exiting the square and hurried after her.
I caught up with her on a narrow road flanked by stone buildings. “Rarity, just...” I followed close behind her. “I didn’t mean to ruin your party, okay? It wasn’t supposed to be like this. You were so… I just wanted to cheer you up, you know?”
A few ponies hurried past us in the opposite direction, no doubt on their way to see my latest screwup.
“It’s not so bad,” I said. “I can help you fix this. I…”
Rarity stopped on the empty road, eyes away from me. She looked like she had something to say but couldn’t.
“I’m still here,” I said, struggling to keep my voice from cracking. “I’m back now. I can make things better. I’m still—”
“I don’t want you,” she hissed, looking me in the eye. “I want Sweetie Belle. I want mom and dad and my sister.” She held my eyes a moment longer, then turned away. “You can’t put it back together. No one can. My family died a long time ago.”
My heart sank. My lips trembled. The fire bells fell silent behind me.
Rarity continued down the road.
“But…” My voice was so low I could barely hear it. “I’m better now. I can still...”
Rarity disappeared around a corner.
My chest tightened, and rage rushed in to fill the emptiness inside me. “Fucking go, then!” I screamed. “I don’t need you! I didn’t even want to come back!”
But she was long gone, and no one was listening.
I spun and stormed away from Rarity, away from the fire, away from everything.
The burning roof of the building spat and cracked and grasped at the clouds. Specks of ash snowed from the dark sky. More ponies passed me in the opposite direction, toward the building, no one giving me as much as a glance.
I’d be sleeping in the streets again while Rarity enjoyed a warm bed under a good roof. Fuck her. I was glad to be rid of this place. What did I care what she thought?
I walked slower. My throat and eyes stung. I breathed faster, my mind racing with thoughts of mom and dad and my sister. I stopped, supporting myself against a brick wall. Despite what I told myself, my heart hurt more than it ever had.
I screamed and kicked a trash can spinning down the road. I lost my balance, staggered sideways, and fell to the ground in the mouth of an alley. I breathed into the dirty cobblestone. The strength to rise had long since fled me. I crawled into the shadow of the alley and propped myself against a stone wall.
I covered my stinging eyes with my ankle and let out a long, miserable exhale. Quiet sobs rocked my body. Tears tickled my cheek. Half a lifetime of bottled-up misery and grief boiled to the surface. I was too broken to fight it anymore, too tired to fill the void with rage. So I sat there, alone in the cold alley, and cried.
I lowered my leg from my eyes and took a deep, trembling breath. The sky glowed orange. Rarity would have been able to see the fire all the way from her house. If she hadn’t succumbed to the temptation of killing herself already.
My guts went cold at the thought. I reached into my dress and pulled out the gem I’d taken from Chuck-Chuck. It glittered white. Dust. Sweet, pain-erasing dust.
I looked away from it, grimacing. I couldn’t go back to it now. It had brought me nothing but misery and heartache. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let it control my life anymore. But I had broken promises before.
I ground the gem’s surface with my magic. It cracked and eroded, and the familiar white powder trickled from the gem into my hoof, twinkling softly in the streetlight.
My mouth watered. It would melt away the world and take me to the moonlit lake for a few blissful hours. My body screamed at me to ignite it, to breathe in the magical smoke. It was what I needed, and for the past years of my life it was all I wanted. But now, in the shadow of that alleyway, the sight of it made my stomach twist in revulsion.
I threw the dust away, scattering it in a burst of glittering white, and pressed the back of my head against the wall, feeling sick.
The sound of hooves rushing past startled me. I looked around the corner of the alley. It was just more ponies going to see the fire. But there was something else, too; a small crowd had gathered around something farther down the street. Odd for anyone to be drawn to something other than the fire.
Glad for the distraction, I wiped my eyes and struggled up on my hooves, my legs trembling as I stepped out into the brightly lit street.
The some dozen ponies stood in a half-circle around a dead lamp post. Most were silent, a few whispering and muttering. I moved around the crowd to see.
Three bodies lay on the ground outside a flower store, dead eyes staring up at the orange sky, their blue uniforms specked with falling ash—the guards I’d had arrest Chuck-Chuck. One of them had his throat cut open, blood pooling under his head. The other two’s faces had turned dark, foam coating their mouths and trailing down their cheeks.
I looked away, bile burning in my throat.
The two living guardsponies made no effort to keep the onlookers away. One of them wiped a trail of vomit from his mouth and looked like he was going to be sick again. The other stood dumbfounded, staring at the corpses like the rest of them.
I swallowed. At least the bastard was dead now, no matter how dangerous he’d been an hour ago. I was safe, at least until my magical contract led the next lunatic debt collector right to me.
I broke away from the crowd. I had time to put distance between myself and the city, but not much.
A horrible stench made me gag. It smelled like something between burned trash and rotten food. I paused; the falling ashes had no scent, and the wind was not blowing from the direction of the fire.
A hooded stallion stood alone at the edge of the crowd, looking at the corpses through gaps between the onlookers. He wore what looked like a blanket wrapped around his body, a heavy hood hiding his face.
The stallion slowly reared his head, and what I saw in the shadow of his hood sent horror down my spine. His face was a scorched ruin, burned flesh clinging to blackened bone. He looked more a nightmarish husk than a pony, but his white eyes were enough to recognize.
Chuck-Chuck rushed out from behind the crowd, swinging his leg at me. He caught me by my throat and tugged me so hard my neck nearly snapped. I opened my mouth to scream, but he slammed hoof in my stomach and the wind went out of me.
He pulled me away from the crowd before anyone had a chance to turn their heads, dragging me kicking into the dark alleyway. Shadow swallowed us and the streetlight faded far behind. My hooves scraped on moist stone. The black and orange sky moved in the gap between brick buildings above.
He stopped and threw me against a wall. Before I even had time to whimper, he pressed his ankle into my throat and hoisted me up, choking me.
“You...” he rasped, strangling me harder. “Never… learn... do you?”
I stared wide-eyed into his molten face—no longer pony, no longer living, no longer anything that belonged in this world, yet there he was, wheezing into my face, his white eyes glaring into mine.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t scream. I couldn’t whimper or beg or even breathe.
He leaned in closer. “I am your shadow. I will follow you to your grave.” The remnants of his face twisted and cracked. “Why do you fight?” He loosened his hold on my throat. “Why do you struggle so hard against something you can’t escape?”
I drew in breath, closed my eyes, and shrank back as far as his grasp would allow. “Just do it,” I whimpered. “Just be done with it.”
“Done?” he asked. “No, not done.” He released me, and I sank down the to the ground with my back against the wall, coughing. “You still have a debt to pay.”
I looked up at him in shock. “The money? You still want the money?” My voice cracked. “Don’t you get it? I can’t. I’m done. I—”
He hit me. “You’re done when I say you’re done.” He hit me again. “I always, always collect.”
I curled up against the wall, tasting blood in my mouth.
“You don’t get to die.” His cracked lips curled into a sick smile. “Not yet.” He pulled me up, dragged me deeper into the alley until we reached an opening, and threw me out on a dirt road. “You have until midnight. Then, I collect.”
I scrambled away, but when I looked back, the mouth of the alley was empty, and Chuck-Chuck was gone.
The clock tower boomed out across the town as I stood there staring at the alley, my bones vibrating with each deafening clang. The bell rang nine, ten, eleven times, and the world fell silent again.
I looked up the hill toward Rarity’s house. I could see it in the distance, no lights in the windows.
I took a trembling step, then another, and another. My body ached and my heart raced, but despite pain and exhaustion, I walked on. I couldn’t die, not now, not yet. But if I had to, I would make things right first.
The front door to Rarity’s house stood half open, light spilling out on the lawn. My body ached with every step I took toward it, my lungs burning with hunger.
I hesitated by the door, listening to the silence, and walked inside.
A dark-blue dress lay in a heap on the floor, her shoes farther away with several strides between them. The trail of clothes led to the door with the ‘Do Not Enter’ sign.
The edges of my vision blurred as I moved toward the second door. The aching hunger raged inside me, the moonlit lake flashing before my eyes. I bumped against the door, the world spinning around me. Everything felt wrong. I could barely breathe.
I walked inside, lurching like a drunkard, and found myself in a hallway of glass, the dark lawn stretching out beyond window panels and the firelit plume of smoke visible above neighboring rooftops.
There was a white door up at the end of the glass tunnel, slightly ajar, the light from the other side reflecting in the glass walls.
I pushed it open and stumbled inside.
The blinding light hit me first.
My eyes clenched shut on their own, but the light still burned through my lids, my head stinging like a million needles were pricking my brain.
The smell hit me second.
I covered my nose. The scent was like the dream lilies on the balcony, but… wrong, somehow. It was sickeningly poignant, more rotten than sweet, barely masked by the scents of earth and grass.
My eyes adjusted, and I blinked them open, squinting. Trees lined the glass walls of the greenhouse. Glaring lamps hummed with electricity from up high. It was like a small forest, complete with trees and bushes and overgrown paths.
“Rarity…” I meant to yell it, but it came out a dry wheeze. I coughed. My own throat was choking me, the dust hunger squeezing harder and harder. I shuffled on weak legs down the overgrown path, looking around the greenery, searching.
A clearing came into view around a bush. White and blue flowers covered the round space. But these were nothing like the lilies on the balcony; they were in varying states of decay, hunched and withered, stems blackened, heads oozing sparkling white pus.
And at the center of the rotting plants stood my sister, grunting as she stomped on the flowers, uprooting them with her magic and tearing them to pieces, her face twisted with grief and rage.
I stood behind the bush, watching her, too weak and terrified to show myself.
Rarity lashed out one final time at the lilies, and stopped. She wiped her brow and stood there, breathing hard. Her horn glowed, and a wine glass filled with a blood-red liquid hovered over to her from a table.
She downed the whole glass and filled it again from a wine bottle. Her magic wrapped around a second bottle, this one small and white, bringing it closer. She emptied a few pills in her hoof, threw them in her mouth, and washed it down with a glass full of wine.
My stomach sank, but I didn’t move.
Rarity raised the bottle of pills over her head and opened her mouth.
I lashed out with my magic, striking the bottle from the air, pills scattering amongst the rotting flowers.
Rarity startled and spun.
Our eyes met, and my guilt and withdrawal rose to a peak. A wave of dizziness hit me, and an icy numbness crawled through my body. My heart pounded. The pain grew so intense I wanted to scream, but I couldn't breathe. Something wet ran from my nose, and I tasted blood on my lips.
Rarity opened her mouth, and the world was blinding white.
I collapsed.
Next thing I knew, Rarity stood over me as I trembled on the earthen floor, her face a white blur in all that light. “What’s wrong?” Her voice cut through the ringing in my ears. “What’s happening?”
“Dust,” I croaked. It was all I could think of in the pain.
“Overdose?” Rarity asked, sounding horrified.
“No.” I looked down at the ground, shielding my eyes from the searing light.
“Withdrawal?” Rarity asked, her voice ripe with disbelief.
I moaned, feeling cold all over.
“Oh, Sweetie,” Rarity said. “You should have dealt with this years ago. Why are you… Does it hurt?”
I didn’t answer.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Lights…”
A moment passed, and the glaring lamps died, shadow flooding into the greenhouse.
The darkness eased my headache a little.
“You can’t do this to me,” Rarity said. “Not now.” She sat down beside me. “I can’t stand to see you like this.”
“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I’m sorry I came back.”
“Shh.” Rarity put her hoof over my shoulders and pulled me into an embrace. “Don’t talk.”
I breathed into her coat, trembling.
“I didn’t know you were this serious about quitting.”
“I’m trying…” Tears stung my eyes.
“When will it stop?” she asked.
“It usually doesn’t… last this long. I’ll be fine. I can… tough it out.”
“I have painkillers.”
“No,” I said. “No painkillers.” I swallowed. “What… were those things? The pills.”
Rarity didn’t answer.
“You’re supposed to be… the smart one. Why would you...” I moaned in pain.
Rarity held me tighter. “You have to let me do something for you.”
I hesitated. “Talk."
Rarity looked down at me. “Talk?”
"Tell...” Pain choked my words. “Tell me about their house.”
“Mom and dad’s?”
“Please.” I breathed into her chest. “I only remember a little from before we moved. Help me... remember.”
Rarity stayed silent for a while, then spoke. “We... shared a bedroom on the second floor, at the end of a hallway with no lights. You were too scared to walk through it alone at night, so I always went with you.” She paused. “I’m sorry. I should get you something for the—”
“No, please. Don’t stop.”
She hesitated again. “There were these... books on a shelf in our room. Fairy tales. I’d read them for you.”
“You read for me?”
“You’d get mad if I refused. We’d stay up late in the night just reading. Filled your little head with imagination. No wonder you were scared of the dark.”
I smiled despite the pain.
“How are you feeling?” Rarity asked.
“It helps when you talk.”
“I don’t know what else to talk about,” Rarity said.
I hesitated. “Can you... tell me about the lake?”
Rarity looked at me silently.
“On the night before we moved to Ponyville.” I looked down. “I don’t know if you remember.”
“I remember,” Rarity said.
I pressed my cheek into her coat and stared at the dark grass as pain hammered in my skull. “I want to hear it from you. Please.”
Rarity held me in silence for a moment. “You had run out of the house late in the evening. I remember I went out looking for you and found you sitting in dad’s rowboat on the shore of the lake. You were angry with me for moving without you. I tried giving you the speech about leaving the nest and chasing dreams, but none of it meant anything to you, young as you were.”
“I climbed into the boat,” Rarity continued. “The thing wobbled so much I fell into it. And when I got back up, the boat had slid from the shore and drifted out onto the lake with you and me in it.”
I smiled weakly at the memory, my pain easing.
“I may have panicked a little,” Rarity said. “Boats are filthy things that I’ve never wanted to have anything to do with, but there I was, trying to work out which end of the oars went into the water so I could get us back to shore. But it was a beautiful night. Warm. I remember the sky was clear and the moon was full.”
Rarity paused, like she was just remembering something. “You began to cry.”
“Then what did you do?” I asked, itching for her to continue.
“I sat down next to you in the back of the boat, and I held you, just like this. And you told me...” Rarity stopped herself. “And you said…”
“I said if I were the big sister, I’d never leave you.” I loosened my hold on Rarity. It felt wrong being close to her, like I was a fraud pretending to be her real sister. “I told you that sisters didn’t leave each other, they stay together.” I blinked away tears. “And I changed your mind. You promised you’d convince mom and dad to let me move to Ponyville with you. You promised me you wouldn’t leave me behind.”
I felt Rarity swallow. She said nothing.
“But I was the one who left you behind,” I said, my tears soaking her coat. “I turned into… this. And when mom and dad died, I did terrible things and abandoned you when you needed family most.”
Sobs rocked my body. “I’m sorry,” I said through my sore throat. “They're dead, and I’ll never get to say I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. Everything. I’m poison, just like you said. You’re all I have left, and I came back and ruined everything all over again.” I pulled away from her, guilt choking me. “I just wish… I wish you’d care about me like you did when you read me those fairy tales. I wish you still loved me like you did when we were out on that lake.”
Rarity pulled me back into an embrace and held me trembling against her. “I never stopped caring.”
“You hated me.”
“No, Sweetie,” Rarity said. “I hated what you were doing to yourself, we all did. But I could never hate you.” She kissed the top of my head and pressed her cheek against it. “You are my sister and I love you. Nothing you could ever do will change that.”
I clung to her, my pains washed away by a wave of euphoria, and for the first time in what seemed a lifetime, I felt at home.
A long while passed as she held me. My trembling stopped. My breathing calmed. My tears dried. The fireglow in the sky faded away, like a wound finally healed.
“I’m going to die soon,” Rarity said, breaking the silence.
“No. You won’t.”
“I’m proud of you,” she said. “You’re stronger than I could ever be.”
I breathed into her coat. “I don’t understand.”
“I don’t want you to.”
“Please,” I said. “Let me.”
The wind pushed against the glass panels of the greenhouse.
“I’ve done terrible things,” Rarity said. “The lilies… They rot and crystallize and turn into... poison. I knew what they would be used for, but I sold them anyway, so I could keep pretending.”
“Pretend what?”
She didn’t answer.
I looked up, and her face was shrouded in shadow. “How many of those pills did you take?”
“Not enough,” she breathed.
I frowned. “How can you still think like that? Don’t you see that I want to make things good again? I want it to be the way it was. I want to help you. I want—”
“It’s always about what you want, isn’t it?” Rarity didn’t look down at me. “What about what I want, have you ever thought of that? Have you asked? Have you even tried to understand what I want?” She drew a trembling breath.
I said nothing.
“I’m so tired, Sweetie. I want to stop moving, just for a moment, but the world won’t let me. It’s like something’s forcing me forward. I want to stop. I want the pushing to end. I want…” She squeezed her eyes closed, and tears glistened on her face. “I just want to fall asleep and never wake again.”
“You don’t mean that.”
Her embrace weakened and her head drooped. “If you have any love for me, you’ll let me go.” She breathed into my mane, and suddenly I was the one holding her.
I swallowed, and for a moment the only sound in the world was her breathing against my neck. “Let’s get you to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”
With a hoof over her shoulder, I helped her up and led her out through the glass corridor into the house, down the hallway with the paintings, and up into the dimness of her bedroom.
Ponyville’s evening glow shone through the three windows, the light kissing the dream lily on the nightstand with its two flowerheads, white and blue.
I pulled open the bed canopy, knocked some pillows aside, and laid my sister down on the bare mattress. “You’ll be okay. I’ll make things better again, I promise.”
“It’s too late.” Rarity shifted on the bed, barely awake. “It’s five years too late. Too late to even try.”
“You’re wrong,” I said, sitting down on the bedside. “You’ll wake up in the morning, and I’ll be here for you. I’ll...” I turned to the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, barely visible in the light from the windows.
Less than a minute to midnight.
“Rarity,” I said, turning to her. “You need to listen to me. I have to ask you something important, and it’ll be the last time I do. The money mom and dad left us. I need—”
“There is no money.”
I blinked. “What?”
“It’s gone,” Rarity said, eyes closed. “All of it. I lost it years ago.”
“But... your parties, your—.”
“Borrowed money,” Rarity said, “and the last of it I’ll get. The banks will seize everything I have to cover my debt, and it hardly covers a fraction of what I owe. And the vultures... They smell blood.” She rolled over on her side. “I’ve ruined so many lives, just like yours, so I could have enough money to keep pretending.” She breathed in deep. “I’m tired, Sweetie. I’m so very tired.”
“But...” My eyes went back to the clock. “The money…” I wanted to throw up. “No...” I looked at Rarity.
She had fallen asleep, breathing quietly in the dark room.
The bells inside the grandfather clock played their melody, then began to chime the hour. The clock tower at the heart of town followed. They rang together, shrill and deep, close and distant, counting the hours. Ten… Eleven… Midnight… Silence.
Something stirred at the end of the dark hallway outside the room. A figure, blacker than shadow.
My breath caught in my throat.
The hooded figure lumbered out of the dark, the slivers of streetlight sliding over his scorched raincoat and ruined face. “Your time,” Chuck-Chuck wheezed through a dry throat, “is up.”
I stood up and backed away until I pressed against the wall. I opened my mouth to say something, but those white eyes killed the words in my throat.
“We both knew how this would end,” he said.
“I can…” I swallowed. “The money…”
He moved closer. “Still you fight the inevitable?”
Every instinct screamed at me to run. But he stood between me and the only door, and he’d grab me before I could even think about going for the windows.
He glanced with disinterest at Rarity sleeping on her bed.
“Please...” I whispered, my eyes going to Rarity. “She needs me.”
“You disappoint me, Belle.” He approached like he had all the time in the world. “The time for that is long gone.”
I breathed as fast as the ticking clock. “I can’t. I have to be here for her. If I leave her—”
“Leave her?” He stopped beside her bed. “You misunderstand.” His horn took on a soft glow, and a tiny glass bottle hovered out from under his blackened raincoat. His ruined face flashed a sick grin. “The two of you are going to the same place.”
“What?” I breathed.
He stepped up to Rarity, grabbed her by the throat, and brought up the glass vial.
“No!” I charged at him, knocking into his side.
He staggered into the nightstand. The flower vase with the dream lily wobbled and tipped over the edge, shattering against the floor.
Chuck-Chuck swung his hoof into my face so hard I saw stars.
Next thing I knew, I was on the floor, head pounding.
Chuck-Chuck loomed over me. The blackened skin on his face had cracked and begun to bleed. "I owed you that one from earlier. This one's interest." He kicked my stomach, knocking the wind out of me.
My back bowed forward, and I clutched my stomach, wheezing.
He picked up the tiny glass bottle from the floor and held it in the light. A translucent, white liquid stirred inside. “I’ll kill you last,” he said, uncorking the vial and turning to the bed.
"Don't touch her!" I screamed. “Rarity! Wake up! Rari—”
He kicked my face. “Shut up!”
I collapsed back to the floor. My head swam, my whole body ached. I didn’t have the strength to rise. All I could do was lie there and watch as he tugged Rarity’s unconscious head up by her mane and emptied half the bottle’s contents into her mouth.
“No,” I whimpered. “No…”
"Shame,” he said. “She won't feel a thing, passed out like that." He tugged my head up by my mane. "You, however..." He brought the half-full vial closer and pried my jaws open with his magic. "Agony."
I startled when the disgusting liquid hit my tongue. I tried to spit it out, but he forced my mouth shut.
“Don’t fight it,” he said, squeezing my nostrils.
The poison splashed in my mouth. I shook and whimpered, struggling against it with all my strength. But it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t breathe.
I swallowed.
"Good." He let go of my mouth and nose, and I fell to the floor, gagging. "How long the poison takes to kill varies from pony to pony. I once saw someone survive ten minutes. Most don’t make it past two.”
I gagged and coughed from the remaining poison in my mouth.
"I wonder how long you’ll last.” He hunched next to me. "You’re a feisty one. Maybe you’ll make it to three." He glanced at Rarity asleep on her bed. "She won’t."
My stomach twisted. I could feel the poison burning at my insides, spreading fast.
“Now, then,” Chuck-Chuck said, his horn glowing. “With your death…” The magical document shone into existence in the air before him. “...I declare your contract…” He made a slow motion with his horn, and a line struck through my signature at the bottom. “...void.”
The document dispersed, the magical light faded, and I felt a weight lift from my horn. And in that moment, I knew I was going to die. Rarity was going to die. It was over. I was supposed to give up.
"Anti...dote," I croaked, still tasting the poison in my mouth.
"Want it, do you?" He leaned close enough for me to smell the dust on his breath. “The flower’s far—”
I pressed my lips against his and bit so hard I tasted blood and ashes.
Chuck-Chuck groaned, trying to pull away.
I tugged hard in the other direction. His lip came loose and he stumbled back away from me. I spat a chunk of burned meat on the floor.
"You bitch!"
"I wonder how long... you'll last."
Chuck-Chuck paled, pressing a hoof to his bleeding lip.
"Tastes like shit... doesn't it?"
He stumbled back against the nightstand, bottles and vials clinking inside his raincoat as he rummaged inside. He pulled out a blue vial. The antidote.
He uncorked it.
I leaped from the floor with a rush of adrenaline and rammed my horn into him, feeling his ribs crack.
He slammed back against a wall, gasping. The antidote fell on the bed.
I dove for it and fumbled with it in my hooves.
Chuck-chuck put his hoof under my belly and threw me back to the floor. He took the antidote in his magic, tilted his head back, mouth open, bottle hovering over him.
I tugged at the antidote with my magic, making a thin stripe of translucent, blue liquid spill on the floor.
He snapped his head at me, scowled, and charged.
I tried moving aside, but I was too slow.
He knocked me back against a mirror and raised his hoof to strike me.
I moved my head to the side just in time, and his hoof went straight through the mirror, shattering it. I bit his shoulder.
He groaned and threw me off him with far less strength than he’d had a moment ago.
I rolled to a stop on the floor. We both froze for a moment, looking around for the antidote. I spied it first and leaped up. We both dove for it, knocking into each other and losing our balance.
His hoof stepped on the bottle. The glass crunched and the blue liquid spilled out, draining into cracks in the floorboards.
We both stared at the ruined antidote. Chuck-Chuck’s expression was one of pure horror. "You killed me.” He took a lumbering step toward me. “You killed…” His knees buckled, and he collapsed on the floor next to the the broken glass. "You... bitch."
My legs wobbled. My stomach burned. It was becoming hard to breathe again.
I leaned forward, ready to vomit, but nothing came. My guts cramped. Cold dread clouded my mind.
A strong scent hung in the air. The smell was rising from the spilled liquid. A sweet smell. A familiar smell. Warm and exotic. In my swirling mind, I recalled it from somewhere. I blinked down at where Chuck-Chuck lay groaning on the broken glass, and spied the paper label still clinging to one of the glass shards.
Lilium Somniorum Extract.
“Dream Lily?” I breathed. "That's the antidote?"
Chuck-Chuck coughed something that might have been half a sentence, his mouth foaming.
I looked at the nightstand. The flower vase had fallen to the floor in the struggle, porcelain shards scattered around a pile of earth. And in the midst of it lay the most beautiful flower in the world—two headed, one white and one blue.
I crawled toward it, too weak to stand. The edge of my vision darkened. The agony in my stomach clawed its way into my chest. I picked up the flower from the mound of dirt and snapped the stem in half.
A blue liquid, thick as blood, dripped to the floor, its sweet scent rising into the air.
I bit into the bleeding stem, sucking the sap into my mouth. Bitterness burned down my throat. I wiped my mouth, shuddering.
Something grabbed my hind leg. I looked down. Chuck-Chuck’s face twisted with fury, his mouth oozing white foam. He held me in place and climbed over me, eyes bulging at the dream lily, his horn flickering.
I pushed against him with all my strength to keep him away from the flower.
He groaned as he struggled against me, his eyes glassy, his body shaking. His pushing weakened. His heavy breathing slowed, then stopped. He jerked one last time, and his body fell limp on top of mine, the lily just out of his reach.
I pushed him off me, and he rolled over dead on the floor, blank eyes staring at nothing.
The burning sensation in my stomach and chest had already faded. I could feel the antidote working, strength returning to my battered body.
I looked around the dark room, dazed. I had to get to Rarity, give her the antidote, if she wasn’t dead already. I picked up the lily in my teeth, crawled to the bed, and hoisted myself up on the mattress.
Rarity was still breathing, chest just barely moving.
I rushed over to her side and turned her over.
She looked calm, peaceful, like she was just sleeping for the night, not knowing that a deadly poison pulsed through her.
I brought the lily up beside her. “You need to take this.”
The broken stem bled on the mattress, making a pooling, blue stain, just like when I had found Rarity the first time in a pool of her own blood. I was trembling, my magic sputtering under the small weight of the flower.
“I’ll save you,” I said, bringing the dripping stem closer to her. “You won’t die.”
Though her eyes were closed, it felt like she was watching me, judging me. I could almost hear her asking, why are you hesitating?
“I need you to live. I can’t do this without you.” The lily quivered in my magic. “I want to be good. I want us to be sisters again. I want you to save me. I want…”
It’s always about what you want, isn’t it? Rarity’s voice echoed in my mind.
Tears blurred my vision. “Don’t you get it? You’re all I have left.” I brought the broken lily closer to her mouth. “I’ll save you. ” The stem brushed against the edge of her lips. “Every single day, I’ll be here for you.”
Have you even tried to understand what I want?
“It’s not too late,” I whispered. “We can make things the way they used to be. We can...”
To fall asleep and never wake again.
“I can still…”
Tears and blue sap dripped on her cheek.
If you have any love for me, you’ll let me go.
I threw the lily away.
I leaned forward and hugged her. “I love you,” I croaked in her ear. “Do you hear me? I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Her breathing was slowing. I could feel her drifting farther from this world with every breath she took.
I let go of her, and her warmth fled me. I climbed to the edge of the bed, reached into the raincoat of the body on the floor, and pulled out another white gem from the same pocket.
Every inch of my skin prickled. My mouth watered. The pounding in my head intensified.
I crunched the small stone in my magic, grinding it to a fine, white dust, and moved the powder like a thin snake above the bed.
I lay down beside Rarity and rested my head on her chest, staring up at the shifting dust above me. She was warm. I could hear her breathing, could feel the soft thumping of her heart against my cheek.
I ignited the dust.
It flashed and fizzled like firework powder, lighting up the room in bright white. When the light died, a fine, white smoke hung in the air, glittering in the dim light.
I closed my eyes and sucked in the smoke.
All my pain melted away. Bliss tingled through me. My body shed its weight. I was floating, barely touching the soft bed, Rarity’s warmth like sunshine at my side.
I exhaled. The smoke swirled and sparkled above me. I sucked it in again, deeper this time, filling my lungs with the sweet smoke.
I could feel her heart beating against my cheek, slowly, slowly.
The bed rocked gently from side to side. The walls of the room fell away, revealing a black lake shimmering with pale light. The ceiling disappeared, and a thousand, thousand stars twinkled to life around a brilliant full moon.
Waves lapped against dad’s rowboat, slowly, slowly.
A warm wind blew against us as we drifted out on the lake, going anywhere and nowhere.
Rarity sat at the rear of the boat, working the oars—a different Rarity than the one I could feel lying beside me in a bed in a different world. This Rarity was younger, little more than a filly—the Rarity I visited every time I used the dust.
The young Rarity smiled at me. She was always smiling, her eyes shining with a love only sisters could share. She didn’t speak. She never spoke. There was only the sound of the gentle waves against the boat.
I could feel her heart slowing, the boat steadying, the waves too weak to rock it anymore.
“I never should have left you,” I whispered. “I made you promise never to leave me, but I was the one who abandoned you.”
The wind died down, the waves calmed, the boat drifted still and steady on the lake, and the Rarity in the dust never stopped smiling.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” I said.
The stars in the night sky faded to black.
“But I know we can’t.”
The moon dimmed into nothingness.
“So I’ll come back.”
Shadow swallowed the shore of the lake.
“I’ll always come back.”
All was still, and the silence of my sister’s heart drowned the world.
When I woke, the room was bright. I blinked, but didn’t squint. My headache was gone.
Gray daylight shone through the windows. Rain drummed against the glass. The grandfather clock ticked in the corner.
Rarity lay in bed beside me, eyes closed. It looked like she was sleeping: calm, beautiful, and for the first time since I came back, she didn’t look sad.
I touched her cheek, and she was cold. This was her one wish, to fall asleep and never wake again. I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand. But I had granted her wish out of love, and it left a crushing emptiness in my heart.
I pressed my head to hers and stayed there a long while. I breathed in deep to smell her perfume—something to remember, something to cling to when I returned to the cold world outside.
“Goodbye,” I whispered, leaving a lingering kiss on her forehead. And with a numbing sadness, I pulled away from her and got out of bed.
A corpse in a raincoat lay on the floor. I knew he would be dead, but I had to be sure. All color had fled his burned face. Blood and foam coated his mouth. He was gone—choked on his own poisons, just like me.
I untied the golden lace and pulled mom’s dress off over my head. I held it for a moment. It smelled like smoke, and there were black spots of ash on it. I folded it the way Rarity had taught me years ago, and left it on the bedside.
The sound of rain rushed inside when I opened the front door. The garden glistened with water, the sky above a dull gray. A column of smoke still rose from the town’s heart.
With my contract void, I was free to disappear somewhere so far from my debts and memories I’d never hear my name again. But the hunger would return in a day, and I would find a way back to the lake to see Rarity’s smiling blue eyes in a world that wasn’t broken.
Rain washed dry blood and tears from my face as I walked away from my sister’s house for the last time. There were no pieces to put back together again, no wounds left to heal. Nothing was left.
Just like the lilies, when one withers, the other follows.
