> Broken on the Wheel
>  by billymorph
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Prologue
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

My father put great stock in wheels. I don’t think there were ever more than a half dozen within a mile of our farm but, if anything, that rarity just fuelled his fervour. Every task in life could be made easier with a wheel. From the little cracked and misshapen circles of wood in a barrow, to the grand spans of the wheels on the market cart, he proclaimed their virtue for all to see. If you wanted to plow a field, or grind grain, or see the world, you needed a good set of wheels to help you.

I hate wheels.

In addition, I also hate roads, carts, large unforeseen rocks that should have been damn well cleared from a public highway, and cheap balsa wood spokes. A special place in Tartarus had also been prepared for small town craftsponies who think that, just because there isn’t another option for twenty miles, they have you over a barrel.

“Thirty bits,” Ornery Wheelwright said, in his low grumble. It was not his actual name, but it might as well have been for all the help he was being. He was a large stallion, a muddy brown all over, with grey in his mane and tail and a permanent scowl set on his low brows.

My eyes narrowed and I felt the familiar rage bubbling up inside me. I was hot, caked in dust and streaked with sweat from the road. “Thirty? Thirty!” I stamped a hoof. “The whole wagon cost me a hundred!”

Ornery Wheelwright’s turned his head towards me, with the speed and inevitability of a glacier. He didn’t bother to say anything, just furrowed his impressive brow, and continued chewing on his confounded nut.

“...it was on special offer,” I said, in a rush, dismissing the issue with a hoof-wave. “That’s not the point though, I could buy a full set of wheels in Manehatten for that kind of money!”

Ornery reached into his bag and popped another nut into his mouth. My ear twitched as he began to crunch down on it. “You’re not in Manehatten,” he said, at last.

I could smell that; in Manehatten showers were not something that just happened to pegasi. “Ten bits.”

Another nut, another crunch, another pluck on my last, fraying, nerve. “Thirty.”

My eyes narrowed. “I don’t think you quite understand haggling.”

“Perhaps they do it different in Manehatten, but we ain’t there,” Ornery pointed out, breaking his all-time record for words in a single sentence. “Thirty. Bits.”

“I don’t have thirty bits!” For a moment, utter silence descended on the market square. Yes, because screaming that you don’t have any money is a great way to start doing business, well done Trixie. For your next act, how about disappearing before your blush burns through your coat?

Ornery Wheelwright glanced over at my wagon. The wagon that had just got a fresh coat of paint in royal white and, save for a few travel stains, looked as if it had rolled out of the shop just yesterday. I could see the underused gears turning in his thick skull, as he sized up the size of his mark. “Thirt–”

“Fifteen,” I cut in, levitating my coin pouch out of my side-bag. The seventeen bits I had left to my name gave their best jangle, but it was a paltry sound from a paltry amount of money. “And that means I’m not getting any lunch.” Or dinner, or a fuel for my stove or... well, anything beyond a couple apples.

Another nut disappeared between Ornery’s teeth. “Twenty five. Need to cover materials.”

“Materials? It’s one spoke! You must have a dozen sitting in a Celestia forsaken box. What could possibly make you think it would take you more than five minutes and cost you a half bit?”

“Thrown pins,” Ornery said, pointing at the ragged wheel. “Needs some smithing, or a new bit of iron. Cracks in those two spokes, and the rest have shifted. You rolled in on this, didn’t you?”

“It’s my spare wheel,” I muttered. Another nut crunched, I wondered if I could get away with setting the damned bag on fire.

“Typical Canterlot unicorn,” Ornery grumbled, glaring at the wheel. “No clue.”

I slammed my hoof down on the cobble with a crack. “I am not. From. Canterlot.” I snarled at the stuck up, arrogant, joke of a caftspony.

I might as well have been a particularly menacing kitten for all the attention he paid. "Really? Rolling in on a busted cart, from the north road, with that accent?" He crunched another nut. "I don't believe you. Now, do you need this work done or not?"

The world went scarlet as I glowered at him. Blood pounded in my ears and I felt a spell begin to form at the base of my horn. Most ponies had no idea how much damage an enraged sorcerer could do. It would have once been the work of moments to wipe the smug smile off his ugly face. A destabilization charm could have welded his teeth together so thoroughly that it would take a hammer to separate them. There would be no more grinding nuts, nor smug self satisfied grin, just torn, bleeding gums and...

I shook myself, my eyes widening as I realised where my thoughts had been going. Holding a hoof to my breast I took a deep calming breath. It was thoughts like those that almost had me banished from Equestria. The spell fell apart with a tingle of magic that washed over my coat. It was never more than an idle fantasy; I didn't have a fraction of the power needed for such a charm.

"Well, oh Grouchy and Pernicious Trixie?"

It came as a bit of a surprise that he knew what the word pernicious meant, but that didn't stop my hot flash of anger. "That is Great and Powerful!" I snarled. "As I told you not five minutes ago."

"I call them like I see them."

"I need this wheel!" I roared, setting my hooves against the cobbles. "I need to get back on the road by tomorrow and I have seventeen bits to pay for it! You are a damn wheelwright! Why is this so complicated for you to fit through your thick skull?"

Ornery took another nut out of his bag, placed it carefully between his teeth. I winced as he bit down, my rage growing with every little crunch and grind. "Thirty five bits."

I hurled my purse at the ground, where it exploded, scattering coins everywhere. My horn burned with light as power poured through me."How about I shove these coins up your–"

"Trixie!"

I froze, noticing two very important things. First, Ornery had managed to get a fetlock around a thick bar of iron. Second, there were a good number of ponies around us were likewise armed and didn't seem to be watching with much awe, nor amazement. A unicorn leapt from the crowd, his hooves rattling on the cobbles as he rushed over.

"Trixie, it is you!" he said, with a cheery wave. "Is that a new wagon? How have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you."

The words washed over me and for a moment I struggled to keep up, or even to figure out who I was talking to. He was a very slight stallion, with a mud brown coat and a mane that was greener than freshly cut grass. I recognised the cutie mark a moment later, a blank mask surrounded by sparkles, then it hit me.

"Razzle?" I exclaimed. "Razzle Dazzle?"

"In the flesh." He pranced in place. "It's so good to see you again Trixie. How are you?"

"Well, I'm about to get run out of town by an angry mob, I'm flat broke and am down to three wheels." I sighed. "So, better than I have been."

A bark of laughter escaped Raz. “Ha. I knew you’d end up being chased out of a town or two. It’s great to see you back in my neck of the woods.” He slung a foreleg over my shoulders, dragging me into a hug. It was not reciprocated.

“So,” Raz continued, turning his broad smile on Ornery Wheelwright. “I take it you’ve already met the Grumbling and Testy Trixie. She always gets like this when she’s been on the road for a while, you know how it can be. After a hard day’s work we all get a little short tempered.” I shot a sidelong glance at Raz; I’m fairly sure after an honest hour’s work Raz would have demanded a lie down with a cold drink and a comely mare. Raz paid not a whit of attention to my incredulity, instead, the lies continued to flow through his lips like honey. “Now, I believe I heard you say twenty bits to fix the wheel.”

Ornery’s eyes narrowed. “I believe that I said thirty five.”

“Oh come on, I’d want three wheels and a backrub for that kind of money." He shook his head. "Let’s all take a step back and come at this fresh. Hi, I’m Razzle Dazzle and I’m very much looking to get my wheel fixed before I have to move on. What’s your price, stranger?”

Another nut appeared in Ornery’s hoof, but Raz interrupted. “Oh, can I grab one of those off you? Trix isn’t the only one in need of some food.” The stallion huffed, but held out the nut and Raz began crunching away at it, smiling all the while.

“Let's say thirty.”

“I’m saying fifteen.” Raz held up a hoof as the stallion began to splutter in rage. “Seriously. Now, I’m sure you’ve got a good yarn about how this is a small town and you’re the only option. My friend and I have these though–” He tapped his horn. “–and it’s not that hard to keep a levitation spell running long enough to get to the next town, and a more agreeable wheelwright.”

Ornery’s glare could have stripped paint at fifty yards. I nearly smacked Raz then; there was no way we could have levitated the cart more than a half mile. Lucky for Raz, it seemed Ornery was a businesspony at heart, though. “Twenty five,” he said at last.

“Twenty and I’ll keep Trix here out of your mane until you’re done.” Raz dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “Trust me that’s worth ten bits right there.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, stranger.” Ornery crunched a nut. “Twenty it is.”

“By the end of the day?”

Ornery nodded.

“Excellent!” Raz clapped his hooves together and levitated a small coin purse from his bags. “Well in that case I'll give you this and make sure Trixie has a hot meal before I bring her back. Pleasure doing business with you."

The stallion shot me a final glare, before turning and disappearing back into his shop. There were some disappointed mutterings from the crowd, but for once I was glad to disappoint them. The village ponies dispersed once they were sure Ornery wasn't going to chase us out of town and I breathed a deep sigh of relief.

"Well that was fun." Raz turned to me, grinning.

"I had it under control," I muttered. It was to Raz's credit that he only sniggered.

"Sure you did. Are you going to pick up those bits, or can I put them in my Trixie wrangling fund?"

Glaring, I kindled my horn and began to pull my bits, so carelessly scattered, back towards me. Only twelve showed themselves, and with a deep sigh I cleaned the mud and assorted filth from my meagre supply of golden coins. No doubt their missing fellows would be lining some farmer's purse by now.

"Yeash, I've seen drowning ponies more upbeat than you, Trix, what's biting you?"

"Wheels." I turned away from him, and began to secure my carriage against the curious hooves of country bumpkins. "Now, I believe you promised me lunch."

"Ha! Trixie, you haven't changed a bit, have you?"





The village had only a single tavern, which had all the rustic charm and appeal of a communal outhouse. Needless to say Razzle and I found a bench outside. There was no view to speak of, but at the very least I could keep an eye on Ornery while he worked on my blasted wheel.

"Huh, I stand corrected, your appetite sure has grown."

The remains of a salad sat in front of Raz. On my side of the table was a loaf of bread, a large platter of cheese, a plate of stuffed, roasted peppers, a bowl of mashed potatoes larger than my head and half of Raz's salad. I glared at him. "What are you implying?"

"Well, I'd ask whether you're eating for two, but I think that might be low balling it."

My glower intensified. "I'm going to give you a ten second head start."

"Come on, Trix." Raz hung his head, adding a soulful glimmer to his eyes with a shimmer of magic. "Would you really hurt this face?"

"Repeatedly and with a hammer if necessary." I shovelled another forkful into my mouth. "However, your offering has pleased me so you will be spared for now."

"Heh, I think the dentist bill would be cheaper at this point. Come to think of it, I probably didn't need the wheelwright. A few more meals and you'll be so round I could just roll you down the road."

A wave of anger washed over me, and there was a sudden snap as the fork in my aura snapped. Muttering expletives I applied a quick fix charm. "It is unwise to comment on a lady's weight."

"Well you say that, but when you have to call a Princess to raise you in the morning–"

I slammed my hoof down on the table, making the plates jump. Raz reared back. "Whoa, Trix. Easy."

"I have pulling a very heavy cart down some very poor roads for the best part of a month," I said in a snarl, light sheathing my horn as a spell built. "I have earned a solid meal."

Genuine fear flashed across Raz's face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a solid, sympathetic smile. "Goddesses Trixie, what happened to you? You used to be able to take a joke."

I shot him another withering look before burying my problems in food. "Trixie has had a bad week," I said, between mouthfuls. "And month." And year.

Raz frowned. "Why are talking about yourself in the third person?"

"It's called stage presence," I said, lying through my teeth. "It makes sure that ponies all across Equestria remember the Great and Powerful Trixie's name."

"Sure..." I breathed a sigh of relief as Raz shook his head and moved on. "Anyway, what brings you back south? I'm pretty sure you said that, and I quote 'the next time you see me in Neigh Orleans crowds will be cheering my name'."

"Don't remind me."

Silence stretched between us, as I started on the peppers.

"So?"

"So what?"

Raz rolled his eyes. "So what brings you back so soon? I'll be honest, I've seen more enthusiastic mobs in my time."

"Pickings are slim near Canterlot." I glowered at the empty bowl of potatoes, and my own warped reflection. "Ponies do not seem to care much for the Great and Powerful Trixie's brand of performance."

"The whole Ursa Major thing backfired then?"

My head shot up. "How did you hear about that?" I demanded. "Trixie–I mean, I–thought that story hadn't made it south of the Everfree."

"You know me Trix, I always like to hear a good story. Is it true that you turned tail and ran at the first sign of the Ursa Major?"

"Ursa Minor." I glared daggers at the table. "It was just a baby."

"Wait, star-beasts breed, how?" Raz cocked his head to one side, his eyes going distant for a moment. Then he shuddered and shook himself. "Actually, no, don't answer that question. I think I'm better off not knowing."

"I tried to fight it." The words escaped me before I could stop them. I tried to hold my tongue, but it was Razzle Dazzle I was talking to. He was, in many ways, my first friend. After I ran away from home, Raz was the one who had helped me when no-one else would. If I couldn't talk to Raz then there truly was no hope for me.

I looked up at Raz's best earnest face. He was always good at putting on a mask, but I saw through them more often than not. He did care, there was anxiety around the lines on his eyes and his ears were pricked too far forwards for mere helpful curiosity.

"A pair of simple minded foals lured the Ursa Minor into town for me to defeat. They wanted to see me put on a show and send the beast packing and... I tried to fight it." A bitter laugh escaped me. "It didn't even pause. The beast shrugged off my magic, destroyed my cart and looked to be eyeing up the rest of the village for it's next meal. Then, some country bumpkin unicorn, the local librarian no less, stepped up and–" I let my forelegs fall wide. "–banished the beast. A mare who couldn't even look me in the eye when I called her out, humiliated me without even trying."

"To be fair, it was the future Princess Twilight Sparkle."

"And that makes it worse!" I ground a hoof on the table, gritting my teeth. "Look at 'Miss Perfect Princess', she has everything. Born to an ancient unicorn family. Tutored from the cradle in magic. Celestia’s own personal student."

"Er, Trixie..."

"I bet she never had to steal a spell book. I bet she never had to spend a month saving up for a single reagent. Who would dare suggest that the ever so perfect Twilight Sparkle work on a rockfarm just to feed herself over the winter."

"Trixie!"

Magic began to surge around me, tinged red with rage. "I hate her. When I see her again I'll–"

Raz smacked me, hard enough to snap my head around. There was a crash as all the plates that had been caught in my aura slammed back to the table. 

"Did you just punch Trixie?" I demanded, glowering.

"Tartarus yes, your eyes were glowing red!" Raz shook his head. "Goddesses, Trix, what have you done?"

The rage drained from me, as if somepony had pulled a plug to be replaced by a gnawing horror. A shudder ran from the tip of my horn all the way to my tail and I flashed my aura before my eyes to check the colour. It seemed it's usual magenta, but perhaps it had become a shade darker. I frowned, squinting, trying to unpick my own magic, but it was like trying to carve a knife with a knife.

“Trixie?”

I snapped back to Raz, whose horn was also lit. He stared at me like I was a rabid bear, and sat rock still, as if any sudden movement would be his last. His eyes were wide and scared. 

“What was that?” he asked, at last.

I tossed my mane out of my face with a flick of my head. “A mistake. A stain. Pay it no heed.”

Raz just sighed, shaking his head in despair. “Trixie, what have you done to yourself? When you got out of Neigh Orleans I thought you had it made. You had your own show beneath your hooves and all Equestria in front of you. What happened?”

“The wheel of life,” I said, levitating a pepper to my mouth. “When you’re up, the only place it can take you is down.”

“Can’t you just, you know, start again?”

I shot him a dark glare. “My name is mud in Central Equestria. I figure if I swing through the south and tour the frontier settlements I might be able to find a few ponies who won't throw tomatoes at me.” If nothing else, because they were too poor to afford tomatoes.

Raz frowned at me. “Wait, you weren’t going to stop in Niegh Orleans? Hay, Trixie, if the gang knew you were back in town they’d all want to come see. Or at least, the old guard would drag all kids along and make damn well sure they gave generously.”

“Yes, because I want an audience where the number of pick-pockets outnumbers the honest crowd.” I gave a long, theatrical, sigh.

“Hey, I haven’t picked a pocket in years!” Raz protested, far too loud for the location. A quick glance over my shoulder showed no more angry mobs forming, though, so I breathed easy. “I mostly act as a fence these days. You’d be amazed what ponies need shifted in a hurry, or what they need acquired. Though, I’ll admit to keeping my eye in with a couple of confidence games.”

“And here I thought you’d be in prison by now.”

Raz laughed. “You’re one to judge, miss Great and Powerful. I seem to recall you lifting a bit or two in your time.”

I shot him a steely glare. “I went straight.”

“There’s no money in going straight.” Raz lounged in his seat. “Who is buying whom lunch?” He frowned at my dainty meal. “Well, lunch, dinner, breakfast, second breakfast–”

My magic clamped his mouth shut. “Thank you Raz. Don’t you think its time you came up with some new material?”

There was a flash from Raz’s horn as he shrugged off my spell. “Why bother when I’ve got the most talented showmare in Equestria with me?”

I glowered at him, as Raz laughed at his own joke.

“Yep. Ah Trix, you always played the straight mare so well. We should work together again. We used to put on great shows for everypony, why’d we ever stop?”

“Why?” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “Because somepony tipped the police off that our shows were mostly bait for your light-hooved friends. It was somewhat difficult to get a venue after that.”

“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that.” He grinned fondly. “Those were simpler times, weren’t they? It’s funny how you can look back on living on the streets with nostalgia. Back then all we had to worry about was dodging the odd leadhoof, or staying a step ahead of an angry shopkeep. These days it's all gotten so complicated.” Raz shook his head. “You know, I’m currently trying to swindle an old mare out of a chunk of her inheritance. Right now, I mean. She thinks I’m on a hunting trip with some old army buddies of mine. I miss the days when you’d do the lights and sounds while I cut the purse strings. The long con’s the safer game, but there was a certain honesty to burglary.”

I shot him a flat look. “Raz. I got out.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, look at me carrying on like an old soldier. Marquess Masquerade is rubbing off on me, the daft old dear. Why don’t we talk about your success?”

I said nothing. If looks could kill, Raz would have been flayed alive and left for the crows.

“Sorry Trix, but I worry about you,” he said, backpedaling away from my death glare. “Come on. You aren’t going to get to the frontier with three wheels and seventeen bits. Even there, what’s the plan, put on a couple of shows for a bunch of ponies who have more rocks than bits to rub together? You can’t live like that.”

“I don’t have much choice.”

“Well, let’s fix that!” Raz spread his forelegs wide. “Let’s put on a show. You and me. I know a little boutique theatre down on Short Street, we’ll–”

“No,” the word escaped me before I could stop it.

Raz started. “What? But Trixie, I’m trying to help. This is a chance to get back on the cart, if you pardon the expression, why not?”

There was a list of reasons as long as my foreleg. Neigh Orleans had a way of sucking you in and, like the muck that surrounded the city, the harder you tried to pull yourself out, the harder the city pulled back. Sure it was just one performance, but my name would get around. Old friends and old ‘friends’ would start crawling out of the woodwork. Ponies would talk. Favours would start to accumulate and then, before I knew what had happened, the Great and Powerful Trixie would be just another half-bit performer on a half-bit stage.

Raz, of course, couldn’t see that. He’d been born on the streets of Neight Orleans, and had never dreamed of anything beyond the city walls. There was no trap in his eyes. I’d spent years trying to show him it to no avail.

“Thanks for the meal Raz,” I said, standing. “It was–”

“Wait!” he exclaimed, leaping to his hooves. “How about some magic?” I opened my mouth to point out that magic was my act, but he continued. “I know a guy, who knows a guy, who’s trying to perform a big ritual spell. He’s throwing around stacks of bits to try to find powerful unicorns willing to work on the downlow for him. It’s perfect for you.”

I sighed, sinking back into my seat. “Raz,” I said, my eyes cast down. “Just forget about it. You can’t help me. I’ve got a black mark on my record now, I can’t afford to risk getting caught up in anything criminal.”

Raz chuffed, rolling his eyes at me. “Black mark? Come on Trix, we’ve all got black marks. The mayor personally promised to throw me into the bay, if they ever got any solid evidence. There’s always a way to dodge around those if you’re clever enough, or know where to put your bits.”

“Not this one.”

“Right...” Raz rolled his eyes. “Come on then, spill. What small town flunky decided to drag your name through the mud? Were you jaywalking? Littering? Did you insult her hat?”

A deep sigh escaped me. If I couldn’t tell Raz, who could I tell? “It was Princess Celestia.”

For a moment, Raz just stared. “Celestia?” he echoed, voice numb. “Sorry, Princess Celestia gave you a black mark? Personally? As in, you were summoned to Canterlot, to the big hall, and personally given a dressing down by an immortal goddess?”

Summoned was probably not the right word for being arrested at spearpoint. I didn’t bother to correct him, instead I just nodded.

Raz shook his head, lost for words, his jaw hanging slack. “I... Goddesses, Trixie. What did you do? Was it because of the Ursa Minor?”

“No. It’s a long story,” I said. 

There was a pregnant silence, as Raz waited for me to elaborate. Instead, I started again on the potatoes. They were going cold, but I could hardly afford to be picky.

“Is it about the glowy eye thing?”

I said nothing. The last pepper disappeared down my mouth. I don’t recall tasting it.

“Oh Trixie.” Raz let out a pitying sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

I glared at him. “Sometimes the wheel of life just grinds you down.”

He clapped his hooves together. “Alright. I know just what to do. Come with me to Neigh Orleans–” I tried to protest, but Raz talked over me. “–no performances, no need for anypony to know your name. We’ll check out this job and, if it’s not too shady, do it together. That’ll get you enough bits to get you back on your hooves and on your way to wherever you want to go. Deal?”

Raz extended a hoof to shake. I regarded it with some distaste. Then again, what did I have to lose.

I took it, and Raz beamed. “Don’t worry about a thing Trix. This’ll all work out just fine.”
> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Urgh, how much longer is this going to be?” Raz said, with a pitiful groan. I shot a glare over my shoulder, a task not made easy by the thick harness tying me to my wagon. Raz was lying on the step, his hooves lit up by waves of magic as he tried to massage them. The nameless little village, and Ornery Wheelwright, had been eaten up by the miles of the road and there was little to see beyond lush fields and the occasional bright splotch of a farmer working their crops. 

There was a certain serenity to being on the road; it reminded me of my childhood. You had a task. You had a means to accomplish that task. All that was left was putting one hoof in front of the other until that task was done. There was some great irony in how hard I’d fought to avoid that daily grind becoming my life, just to run straight back the moment things got tough. 

“My hooves are killing me,” Raz continued, but I paid him little heed. In the day and a half we had been travelling he had managed to pull the wagon for about sixty minutes. Seventy, if one were inclined to be generous, which I wasn’t. Raz was not a working pony. When we were foals his sole claim to exercise was being able to go from a standing lurk, to a blind gallop, faster than a pegasus struck by a thunderbolt. Not that his desperate escapes ever took him far. The hundred yard dash was, in Raz’s opinion, a sport for foolish ponies who didn’t have a good hiding spot prepared. 

“How come you don’t have a mini-bar in here anyway. If I was one the road I’d...”

I tuned the stallion out. At least Raz’s skills as a consummate whiner hadn’t atrophied over the years. In thirty-six hours he had changed his coat colour based on: attractiveness to farm maids, ability to repel bugs, the fact that he didn’t get to use green often enough and to keep the sun off his head. I’m quite sure there are Changelings that don’t use disguise magic as much as Razzle Dazzle when he’s bored. How he avoided a lynch mob during the bug hunts I have no idea. 

“Trixie!”

I jumped, the harness jangling. “No. I don’t know how long it’s going to be.” 

Raz rolled his eyes at me, and brushed a lock of now blond mane out of his face. “See, I knew you weren’t listening. I said, I can see the city.” 

Neigh Orleans was not a city that drew the eye. It lacked the grand towers of Manehatten or the singular location of Canterlot. The ancient charm that Trottingham had fought so hard to maintain had been sacrificed to gods of commerce in Neigh Orleans. Marsh and floodplains surrounded the city, which was a mere earthy blur on the horizon. There were no ancient city walls and we were approaching from the wrong angle to see the Grand Harbor. There were more inspiring cities for a filly to pin her dreams on, but all those years ago I had not been given much choice. 

“Ah, it’s good to be home,” Raz said, with a sigh. “There’s this lovely new bar on Westmare Avenue that I have to show you. It has the cheapest mixers in the city. Of course they’re selling sparkles out of the back room, but it’ll be a month or two till anypony catches on and they get busted.” 

I rolled my eyes. “We’re not even in town yet, and you’re already inviting me to a drug den?” I said, teasingly. “You really haven’t changed, have you Razzle?” 

“Ha! Just wait until you see the mares they have waiting tables. You’ll soon overlook the sparkles for a glance at that. I wonder if they do hoof rubs.” 

A deep sigh escaped me. My horn flashed as I lifted Raz from the wagon and dropped him onto the ground. “There, maybe if you actually have some dirt on your hooves they might believe your sob story.” 

Raz did not start walking. “Oh come on Trix’!” he yelled after me. “I only need a couple hundred yards of dirt to pull that kind of con. It must be twenty miles yet!” 

Three miles later the flagstoned road gave way to proper poured asphalt as we entered the city proper. Neight Orleans didn’t really begin. Empty fields became scattered cottages, cottages clustered together to become villages, villages blurred together until you suddenly realised you were walking down mainstreet. An eagle-eyed unicorn, such as myself, might spot the sudden ring of tombs that surrounded the city proper, but the bright coloured mausoleums blended into townhouses with nary a ripple. 

“Ah, it is so good to be home,” Raz exclaimed, clapping me on the shoulder. “Let’s never go into the countryside again. It’s an unnatural place.” 

A fond smile spread, unbidden, across my muzzle. It was surprisingly good to be back on the old stamping grounds. We were on Waterway Boulevard, a grandiose name for a Riverside street, a chunk of the city that was a slum before the first leavy went in. Riverside bordered the river on one side, with all the stink of stagnant water, raw sewage, rotting fish and seaweed that implied, and, without warning, became the warehouse district on the other. 

Carts and barges coming from the north would pull up in Riverside filled to the brim with grain, textiles and other staples of life. If their owners knew which frogs to grease, the cargo would then wind its way through the labyrinth of twisted streets, to the harbour and across the sea. If they were unwise, the cargo would disappear into Riverside never to be seen again, along with the guards, the barge and any loose change within a three block radius. The joke ran that Riverside didn’t have a problem with crime, they were well practised at it. 

It was the kind of place that consumed ponies, one of those patches of darkness that the light never seemed to be able to shift. Riverside was Neigh Orlean’s own Everfree Forest, wild and untamed no matter what ponies tried to do.

It felt like home, and I hated that. The buildings loomed over me, boarded up windows and cracked façades somehow twisted by nostalgia into smiling old faces. The bright colours that the city was famous for were faded and covered by years of grime, but I could read the street from a single glance. There was the house of family who’d fallen on hard times. There was the front for a seedy fence. There was a squat for a gang, with a sentry half asleep on the front step. Dark alleys best avoided and shortcuts for the filly running from a leadhoof, or worse, revealed themselves to me. I felt myself relax into the half forgotten rhythm of life on Riverside.

“Heads up,” Raz muttered. “Trouble, eleven o’clock.” 

I glanced down the street, which seemed to be emptying with alarming speed. No immediate danger presented itself though so I glanced over my shoulder at Raz. The three stallions tailing us spotted my gaze and broke into a trot. 

“Why did you look?” Raz hissed, glaring at me. 

“You said eleven o’clock. That’s in front of us, you idiot.” 

“I meant the other eleven o’clock.” 

Great. I was going to be killed because Raz didn’t know which way up to tie his watch. 

Magic surged around us and one of my wagon wheels locked solid against the axle. I came to a lurching stop, the breastcollar digging into my chest as I strained against the sudden dead weight. 

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Scepter's lapdog." The stallions sauntered up to us. They were a hard-bitten sort. Two were earth ponies, probably brothers, and the colour of river mud. They had the build of professional brawlers and the twitchy walk of a pony getting desperate for another fix of something. Their unicorn friend was the brains on the outfit; he wore a green slip of silk around his neck and strutted, rather than walked, towards us. It was funny just how much like a Canterlot noble he looked. Sure, his mane and tail were rat-like and it was clear he had never had a square meal in his life, but he still had his nose turned up high, as if deigning to acknowledge us. 

I christened him Ratline, and hated him in an instant. 

"Funny, I thought Sledge told your sort to keep out of Riverside," Ratline continued, stepping between Raz and I, his muscle looming over us both. 

"It's a public highway," Raz said, his usual light tones suddenly subdued. "Are we really going to start something?" 

Ratline laughed. "Your boss already started something. This is just another consequence. Scepter needs to learn about consequences it seems." He shot a glance my way. "Who's the circus reject." 

Me eyes narrowed. "My name," I said, dropping into my booming stage voice. I ignored Raz's sudden horrified look. "Is the Great and Powerful Trixie!" I reared up and slammed my hooves down on the road. Magical fireworks crackled around us, in all colours of the rainbow. 

Ratline seemed less than impressed. "And word on the street was that Razzle was trying to find a powerful unicorn. Looks like he just settled for the loudest braggart he could find." 

I cocked my head to one side. "Excuse me? Trixie is not some mere back parlour performer. Her skills are unmatched by any unicorn alive, even the alicorns tremble at her name.” Though, not for reasons that I cared for.

A derisive snort met my boasts. “Sure, I believe you,” Ratline said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lumps, crack this bitch’s horn.” 

My instincts had clearly atrophied, my first thought was amazement that anypony could be called Lumps. A hoof came whistling through the air towards my head and, at the last second, I craned my neck, rolling with the blow as it clipped my cheek. Mana pooled in my horn as I reeled back, held on my hooves by the wagon's tack, and I unleashed it in a wave of force, aimed low. The unfortunately named earth pony never saw the blast coming. The blast of kinetic power swept his legs out from under him and a meaty thud was the only sound he made as he hit the ground face first. 

Amidst the confusion Raz took to all four hooves and accelerated away, running like he'd just lifted a hundred bits. The other thug, who I named Bumps in my head, accelerated after him, a mere half length behind, and I watched in horror as my only ally fled. Once, just once, I would like a knight in shining armour on my side. 

Ratline rounded on me, his horn ablaze as he tried to gather a spell. Thugs like him only knew a couple of charms, but what little magic he had would be brutal and hit like a plough pony. My magic wreathed the harness, as I fought a dozen tricky buckles to get free, but I was too slow. Just as the last catch came free Ratline let loose with a bolt of red lightning. I hurled myself out of the way, but the spell homed in and caught me in the flank.

For a moment the entire world vanished behind a red haze of agony. Sky and earth flipped and the metalic taste of blood flooded my mouth. It lasted for just an instant, but that moment of agony stretched into infinity as I writhed in the dirt, screaming.

“Argh!” The harsh bark of pain cut through the haze and the spell vanished, leaving phantom hooves running over my flanks as my muscles spasmed wildly. A flash of blue filled the sky above me and again the smack of hooves on flesh echoed through the street. Groaning, I stumbled to my hooves, clutching my aching head. 

A thestral hovered over the fallen Ratline, holding his hooves close to his chest in a boxer’s guard as Lumps circled around him. Seeing a thestral in broad daylight was surprising enough, let alone one leaping to my rescue. He had a lithe form, with a royal blue coat and the well carved muscles of a professional athlete. His wings were broad, the leathery flaps of skin in constant motion as he ducked and weaved around the Lump’s slow swings.

Bellowing in rage Lumps charged at the stranger, but the thestral danced up and over the blow. With a quick, double-hoofed buck to the back of the head, he drove Lumps to his knees. 

“Well that was fun,” he said, dropping to the floor, grinning from ear to ear. His smile only widened as he turned to me. “I’ve always wanted to play the gallant hero. My name’s Astral Thunder, nice to meet you.” Whistles rang through the streets, along with the shriek of whistles as the police finally got their hooves out of their asses. “Whoops. That’s my cue to leave. If anypony asks, you never met me, you don’t know why you got jumped and you haven’t heard anything about Scepter.” 

He leapt into the sky; within a few flaps he had darted into the shadows of an alleyway and was gone. 

I groaned, slumping back to the ground. My head was pounding and the world seemed to have tilted when I wasn’t looking. 

It was a fine welcome home to Neigh Orleans. 





I ended up in the police station on Poplar street. It was an old haunt of mine and had not improved in my absence. The paint was still peeling off of the walls and graffiti dotted every bench and chair. The ponies of Riverside didn’t care for the leadhooves and the feeling was mutual. I’d visited cemeteries with more colour and cheer, and the ponies eyed me with wary suspicion even though I wasn’t wearing cuffs. 

When you got right down to it, the only difference between under arrest and waiting for an interview was how polite the response you got when you asked to leave. That, and the waiting room had a water cooler. I was very grateful for the watercooler, if nothing else but to soothe my pounding headache. Magical attacks aren’t things you can just walk off, especially if you’re a unicorn. If you’re lucky you just get a nasty horn ache and need spend a few days in bed. Judging from the metaphorical hot poker between my eyes, I’d be getting that on top of all the scrapes and strains I’d picked up thrashing on the floor. 

Still, I wasn’t under arrest. It made a nice change. 

“Well, well.” The unicorn at the door was a familiar face. Bright Shield was a huge stallion, built like a wall and with a dark grey coat that seemed to blend into any background. If it wasn’t for his solid stance and proud smile I would have dismissed him as mere hired muscle. That wasn’t a mistake I was willing to make twice, though. “If it isn’t Trixie. What have you managed to get yourself into this time?” 

I rolled my eyes, shifting on the low bench to try to find a more comfortable position. “Clearly I’m a travelling showmare, brutally set upon by the cruel denizens of this wretched city.” I gave a dramatic toss of my head, brushing my mane out of my eyes and fighting back a wince. I had to ease up on the sudden movements. “May I have your name, my brave champion?” 

“So you’ve learned to ham it up while you were away, at least?” He took a seat next to me and sighed. “Damn it all, Trixie, I didn’t expect to see you back in Neigh Orleans. I thought you went straight.”

I echoed his sigh, dropping my head between my hooves to rest on the cool boards. “I did go straight,” I said, glaring at a loose tile. “I am now the Great and Powerful Trixie, didn’t you hear?” 

“I heard. I also heard through the royal line that the Crown was taking special interest in any case involving one Trixie Lulamoon.” I winced. Great, my infamy was growing. “Which means there’s probably going to be a whole lot of paperwork on my desk. The wife is going to kill me, but that’s justice for you.” 

I sat up too fast and had to fight against the room’s sudden spin to stay upright. “Surely that doesn’t count if Trixie is just an innocent victim?” I protested. “Sergeant, I can–” 

“Detective.” 

“What?” I did a double take. 

“Detective,” Bright Shield said, tapping his badge. 

“Really?” I shook my head. “And here was I thinking they’d never get you behind a desk.” 

Bright Shield waved me off. “Bah, there’s plenty of younger ponies to keep the streets clean, or as much as we can these days. The brass needs keen eyes as much as it needs all hooves on deck.” His voice was oddly lifeless as he spoke, as if echoing what others had told him. It was a sad day when they put a stallion like Bright out to pasture. In the years I’d known him, I’d never seen Bright more alive than when he was a mere pace away from collaring a criminal. 

“What do you mean, these days?” I said, frowning. 

Bright Shield shook his head. “The city’s gone mad, Trixie. There’s always been the rough fringes, but it’s practically a war out there. The gangs are fighting, not just little scuffles, but full on battles in the streets. Word is a small time artefact smuggler went from a twelve pony operation to ruling half the underworld. I don’t suppose the name Scepter means anything to you, Trixie?”

My face went blank. “Never heard the name before,” I lied, too smoothly. 

“Right...” Bright’s eyes narrowed. “How about that thestral who laid out two ponies? Did you happen to see him?” 

“No, I had just had my soul flayed, so I wasn’t paying too much attention.” I shrugged. “I’d shake him by the hoof if had, though. After all, he was doing your job.” 

Bright didn’t rise to the bait. “No he didn’t. There’s a nasty colony of them moved into town. They’re throwing their muscle around towards some dark end. If any of them helped you, they did it because it helped them. You sure you didn’t see anything?” 

“I already said no,” I pointed out, snappishly. Goddesses, what had Raz managed to drag me into this time?

“Trixie!” Bright barked, making me jump. “You may be the victim, for once, but this is not some cutpurse racket.” He slammed his hoof on the bench, glowering at me. “Ponies are dying. Lots of them. And I don’t want to see you turn up in the river.” 

A bitter chuckle escaped me. “Why Detective, I didn’t know you cared.” 

Bright’s glower softened. He stood up, with a tired sigh, and made his way over to the watercooler. “Want one?” His horn kindled as he filled one of the ceramic cups, then another.

“You’re stalling,” I said, simply. “Though, yes.” 

I accepted the mug into my aura and took a deep draught.

Bright groaned as he sat down next to me. “True." He took a sip from his own up. "Trixie, do you remember how we met?” 

A shudder passed through me. There had been a lot of biting and kicking involved. “Vividly.” 

“Did you know you were my first collar?” Bright said, taking a seat next to me. “Trixie Lulamoon, unicorn of no known family, age fourteen, suspicion of theft of the first degree. It was a proud day to be a policepony. Of course, I was less pleased when I found you’d lifted my wallet during processing, but I always kept an interest. I was never happier to hear you’d gotten your own stage.” He sighed, a fond look on his face. “I always said, ‘that pony wasn’t born to be a thief’, and I thought you had proved me right.” 

I said nothing. Did it say something about my friends that my enemies had been happier to hear of my success? 

He fixed me with his piercing glare and dropped into a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m going to give you a bit of advice, Trixie. Run. You’ve got a fancy cart and a load of talent. Whatever you’ve done to get caught up in this madness, whatever they might be paying you, it isn’t worth it. Get out of Neigh Orleans. Now, before it’s too late.” 

He stood, suddenly every inch the professional officer again. “Anyway, you’re free to go ma’am. Thanks for your assistance.” 

“What?” I stared for a long moment, then shook myself and lept to my feet. “What about notifying the Crown?” 

Bright shrugged. “I’m sure they wouldn’t be interested in such a minor scuffle. Besides, you were the victim after all. No need to waste Their Majesties’ time.” 

“Thank you,” I said in a whisper. 

“Don’t make me regret it, Trixie.” Bright shook his head. “Stay safe."

He walked away, leaving me alone in the waiting room. 

I waited for a long moment, half expecting the bad cop to arrive at any second. After no pony presented themselves, I sighed and shook my head. My hornache was building again; magic was going to be fun for a few days. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d had to power through, but it was going to be unpleasant. Wandering over to the water fountain I poured myself another cup and held it against my head. 

What in tartarus’ name was going on? Neigh Orleans was not my favorite city to visit, not by a long shot. It was not, however, a town where a pony was murdered in broad daylight just for walking down mainstreet. Then there was the thestral. As a personal rule I never talked to the police about a friend, and saving my life put him firmly in that category, but thestrals were always a sign of trouble. Their entire breed had stayed loyal to Nightmare Moon after her banishment, and not all of them had accepted Princess Luna’s orders to disarm. 

“Trixie! There you are.” Raz sounded far too upbeat for his own good, and had his voice pitched in a ludicrously feminine range. I glared at him as he trotted over. He’d stolen my colours, with a silver coat and azure mane which now trailed almost down to the floor. Between a pair of eyelash extensions and a strategically fluffed coat, he pulled off the tom-colt look rather convincingly. “Come on, stop cooling your hooves and get moving, we’ve got places to be.” 

“And who are you supposed to be?” I said, arching an eyebrow. 

“Right now, your sister Moxie. Now come on, I’ve got a kid watching your wagon and, to be honest, I wouldn’t trust him with a half bit.” 

“You look nothing like my sister Moxie,” I muttered, though followed Raz as he made a break for the door. His nervous trot was barely under control and I was very tempted to set off a firework off behind him and see how fast he took off. Or perhaps I could just set fire to his tail. There were some nasty, arcane fires that burned even under water. They wouldn’t stop until there was nothing but a treacherous skeleton left, still screaming–

“Trix, your eyes are glowing red again.” 

“Gagh!” I rubbed my eyes with both forehooves, trying to banish the images from my head. 

Raz rolled his eyes. “What is up with that?” he asked, sounding as casual as if he were commenting as to a new hat. 

I shuddered. “Trixie does not wish to talk about it.” 

“You’re also talking in third person again. You only do that when you’re dodging the question.” He glanced over his shoulder and winked at me. I began to wonder just why I’d thought frying him alive was a bad idea. “So what set you off that time?” 

“I was wondering the best way to set your tail on fire,” I growled. A passing policepony shot me a worried glance, but didn’t stop. 

“Ha! You wouldn’t be the first to try.” Raz frowned, rubbing a hoof on his chin. “Actually, I think you were the first to try.” He shook his head, as we reached the main hall of the station. “Anyway, we’re wasting time. Let’s get out of here, I haven’t been around this many leadhooves since I crashed the Police Ball.” 

I rolled my eyes. I was somewhat amazed Raz had even dared set hoof in the stationhouse. He was not the bravest of stallions, for all his guile. 

Leaving was surprisingly simple. The mare at the front desk had a small mountain of forms for me to fill out, but my story was easy enough to remember. I hadn’t seen anything. I didn’t know why I’d been attacked. I didn’t know who had attacked me. I didn’t even leave my name on any of the forms. The policepony pursed her lips as she read over my responses, but said nothing. Somehow, I doubted she got many straight answers out of the typical pony through the doors. 

“Come on, come on, come on,” Raz said, bouncing on his hooves.

“We’ll let you know if we need you for another testimony,” the desk sergeant assured me with a smile. “I hope the rest of your stay in Neigh Orleans is more pleasant.”

“Trixie hopes so too.” 

Taking my time I made my way to Raz, who near leapt out of the doors and onto the street. “You know, they can arrest you just as easily out here,” I said, following him at a far less suspicious pace. 

“I don’t like feeling trapped,” Raz said, a shudder running down his back. “Come on, your wagon’s just around the corner.” 

I glowered at him as he trotted away, but followed. “I’m still waiting for an apology, by the way.” 

“Huh?” He had the gall to look confused. 

“For your help back there. You took off faster than a diamond dog hearing a dinner bell when things got serious.” I don’t really know what I’d expected. Raz had never been a fighter. It wasn’t even the first time he’d saved his own skin and left me to face the music. It still hurt, though. Twilight’s friends never...

“Jeeze, Trix, that guy was like three times my size! What was I supposed to do, turn him blue? I went and got help, wasn’t that enough?” 

My eyes narrowed. “Yes. A thestral. What in the Princess’ name are you doing with one of those ponies?” 

“Heh, heh, heh.” Raz let out a nervous chuckle. “Umm, actually...” 

We rounded the corner and my heart leapt in my throat. My wagon was sat by the side of the road, marred with dirt from the road but still blessedly intact. I breathed a sigh of relief, just glad it hadn’t been abandoned at the side of the road to be picked over by more of Ratline’s slippery hooved friends. An earth pony colt glanced up as we approached, sizing up with the eye of a pony trying to work out the exact number of bits in my purse. 

Two thestrals landed on the roof of the wagon with a heavy thud. The kid glanced up, back at us, and then took off like a rocket. The bat-winged ponies were a heavyset pair, brothers at a guess and their yellow eyes fixed on Raz and I. For a moment I considered running; few ponies lived full and happy lives after crossing the servants of Nightmare Moon. I wasn’t going to lose another wagon, though. 

“I’m going to give you one warning,” I growled, magic gathering around my horn. “Get the buck off my property.”

The pair smirked. “Hear that, Nighty,” one said, elbowing his brother. “The sunkissed wants to tell us what to do.” 

My aura went red in an instant. “What?” the word escaped my mouth in a sibilant snarl. “What did you call me?” 

“Uh Trix...” Raz tried to interject, but I ignored him.

Nighty grinned, revealing pony-rending fangs. “Sunkissed. A sun-loving fool. One of Celestia’s pathetic little ponies.” 

Rage swirled around me as my magic built to a crescendo. The hum of a barely constrained spell singing in my ears. “I am nopony’s,” I snarled.

“Ooo, the little unicorn thinks she’s scary,” Nighty continued, clasping a hoof over his heart in mock terror. “Perhaps you’d like to come up here and say that? Oh wait, you can’t fly.” 

“Seriously, there’s no need, we’re–” Raz tried again, but my anger was in full flow.

“Perhaps you’d like to come down here and find out just how terrifying The Great and Powerful Trixie truly is?” I cocked an eyebrow at them. “Unless you’re even more chicken than a pegasus.” 

I touched a nerve there. Nighty’s eyes narrowed and he spread his leathery wings. It was the mistake I was looking for. Unicorn magic is often underestimated, and underused for that matter. Ponies see nothing more than the fancy lights and the strange effects and don’t bother to dwell on the how and the why. A clever unicorn could, with some imagination and some experimentation do anything she set her mind too, and that including wiping the smirk off an annoying thestral’s face. Magic struggled to affect ponies; they were inherently magical creatures and that carried its own measure of protection, especially against ponies who didn’t have the depth of power the alicorns could boast. It was more than capable of moving the air around them, however.

A blast of wind blossomed into existence beneath the thestral’s wings and slammed into him like a hammer blow. With a strangled squawk of surprise the pony was picked up and hurled into the sky, quickly becoming just a pale grey dot in the distance. 

“So, I’ll say it again,” I said, turning my ire on the surprised brother. “Get off my wagon.” 

“Why you–” He leapt from the wagon, keeping his wings furled and I poured more magic into my horn, readying a lightning bolt. The sound of beating wings suddenly echoed behind me and I whirled, losing my spell towards yet another thestral. I recognised him a moment too late. 

“Whoa!” Astral exclaimed, as my spell fizzled in the air before him. “Easy there!” He landed hard next to me. “Don’t worry, Trixie, we’re all friends here.” 

Friends was probably a strong term considering I'd just tried to boil his eyes out with a lightning bolt, but I held my tongue. It wasn't like my lightning spell could harm a kitten without the alicorn amulet anyway.

“Cousin, she–” the other thestral cut in, hurrying over. 

Astral held up a hoof. “Is the pony I sent you to look after, Storm” he said, shooting me a warm smile. I did not return it. “Where’s Night Thunder got to?” 

Storm glared at me. “He's... on a scout around.” 

“Ah, good, good.” Astral turned back to me, beaming. It was an odd smile, warm but forced, it took me a moment to realise it was a deliberate attempt not to show his fangs. “And it is very good to meet you Miss Trixie in less stressful circumstances. I’m sorry to leave you to the tender mercies of the law, but it would have just made everything far too hard to explain if they’d found me there. I hope my cousins haven’t been driving you too far up the wall.” 

“Trixie was handling things,” I said, at last letting the magic fade away. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me and I fought to keep from stumbling. It wasn’t the bone deep weariness of overchanneling, just too much magic too fast, the unicorn equivalent of a nasty stitch. It was a painful reminder I didn’t have half the magic I once wielded. 

“Sure, I always throw lightning bolts when somepony’s driving me up the wall.” Astral laughed, waving off my glare. “I kid, I kid. No need to give me a new electric manestyle, Trixie. I can call you Trixie, right?” 

“Or The Great and Powerful Trixie.” 

“Very well, oh Great and Powerful Trixie.” Astral took my hoof and kissed my coronet. “And you can call me Astral Thunder. Or the Devilish and Sexy Astral if you wish.” 

Over my shoulder Storm made a gagging noise. 

“Don’t push your luck,” I said, with a sigh, pulling my hoof back. Astral wasn’t bad looking, but my mother had warned me about thestrals. Then again, when had I ever listened to my mother? 

“Well, I had to try.” There was an annoyed grunt as Nighty finally made his way back and landed next to us, he shot me a deadly glare. “Ah, see anything on your scout around, Night?” Astral asked, without a trace of irony. Night opened his mouth to protest, but his brother elbowed him in time. 

“No,” he growled. “Nothing.” 

“Excelent. Well in that case, Storm if you want to harness yourself in, we’ll all head back to the mansion.” 

“Hold it right there,” I cut in, stepping between them. “Nopony touches Trixie’s wagon, and we are not going to any mansion.” 

Astral frowned. It was the first time I’d seen his sunny smile break. “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you’d already know. We’re here to take you to our mutual employer.” 

“Trixie does not have an employer,” I said, tersely. “Especially not in Neigh Orleans.” 

“Um, actually Trixie...” My glare snapped to Razzle as he spoke, and he swallowed the lump in his throat. “This job I was talking about, I may have already said yes to it.”

“Trixie has not,” I shot back, arching an eyebrow at him.

Astral put a wing around my shoulders and smiled, showing the full extent of his fangs. “You’d be amazed how little some ponies care about quibbles like that. I’m afraid our employer has need of a unicorn of your talents and he is accustomed to getting what he wants.” His cousins stepped up beside me, hemming us in. “So, how about we get moving before Scepter starts getting angsty. It will make all our lives much easier.” 

A sigh escaped me. “I suppose Trixie will have to agree.”



 

The mansion was up in the city heights, far above the stink of the docks and the grime of several thousand ponies living in close proximity. It was not the grandest stage I’d ever walked. The building was merely three stories tall and lacked even a single turret or marble façade. A Canterlot noble would have turned their nose up and called it a ‘pocket chalet’ and, to be fair, even for Neigh Orleans it was on the small size. Still, it was a mansion. It was the seat of Scepter’s power, whatever power it was he wielded, and I felt no small trepidation to step across his threshold. 

It was far too late to run, though. Astral and his cousins lead me through the mansion’s halls at a steady clip, never taking their eye off of me. I found my eyes drawn to the odd lack of decoration on the walls. A pony says a lot with their home but Scepter seemed not to care. Everywhere I looked there were empty rings on old tables, light coloured squares on the panelling where portraits had hung and a distinct lack of any kind of cleaning going on. 

On the road you could spot a noble family in financial trouble in a heartbeat by the little things they’d let slide, like keeping up with the Canterlot fashions. New money was just as easy to spot, they always had the latest everything and everything was inlaid in gold. Scepter’s mansion should have fallen into that last category, in fact, a year ago it may well have. Since then, though, it had been stripped bare by what looked to be the most thorough team of looters I had ever seen.

“Friendly place,” I said, as we passed another set of barren rooms. 

“Beats some of the dumps we’ve been to.” Astral grinned and jabbed Nighty with his foreknee. “Remember those caves up in the Mountains of Light? Those were a fun place to stay.” 

“I almost got eaten by quarray eels,” the stallion growled. “Which you swore could not jump.” 

“Technically, I said ‘fly’; you took that to mean they couldn’t get off the ground.” 

I glared at the pair. “So what can Trixie expect from this ‘boss’ of yours?” 

“Oh, Scepter’s a great pony,” Astral said, slipping back into his easy grin. “Though, maybe he needs to take that stick out of his plot every once in a while. You’ll be fine; he’s ruthless, but he needs you, and if you’ve got half a brain you can use that.” 

It took me a long moment to realise he’d given me some useful advice. His cousins picked up on it sooner. “Astal, remember what your father says about running your mouth,” Storm said, in a low growl. 

“Father wouldn’t trust a filly-scout with a wagon full of cookies. Come now, Storm, we’re all on the same side.”

Storm shot me a suspicious look. “That remains to be seen.” 

“If you don’t want Trixie to be here, then she’ll be happy to leave.” 

He grunted, and we descended back into silence, broken on by the thud of hooves on boards. “You know, you haven’t actually told Trixie what it is you want her to do,” I said, after a short while. 

“I’m sure Scepter will enlighten you,” Astral said, with a smile that promised butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “Though, it is important to us, I can assure you of that.” 

My eyes narrowed. “How important?”

“It would help my family a lot. Scepter would kill for it.” 

He paused before an unremarkable door and knocked. “Boss, The Great and Powerful Trixie is here to see you.” 

An aura encompassed the door handle and the door creaked open. Oil seemed to be in short supply in the mansion as well. “Well? Come in then,” a waspish voice cut through the hall.

I paused a moment at the threshold to draw upon that inner wellspring of showmareship. The ego and drive of The Great and Powerful Trixie was not always to my advantage, but it made facing down a mob boss that much easier to stomach. With an arrogant flick of my mane I strode into the room. 

Scepter was not quite as I expected. Given the number of dark and brooding bat-ponies he’d surrounded himself, I’d expected a Count Tackular knock-off. Instead, Scepter was a butter-yellow unicorn, with a mane the colour of lemonade. He was not particularly well built, nor that well kept, though his wealth was made obvious by the bands of gold that wreathed the base of his horn and the well-tailored suit around his chest. His eyes were the only thing that set him apart from the average pony. They were hard, a piercing blue that seemed to cut through me like a diamond through glass. I fought down the urge to shudder. 

“So, I hear you have a job for The Great and Powerful Trixie?” I demanded, falling back on bravado to steady my nerves. 

“Indeed I do,” he said, rising from behind the desk. He held out a hoof and we shook. “I’ve heard many things about you, Trixie. The second most powerful unicorn in Equestria, according to some.”

“They’re liars then,” I said, matching his gaze. “Trixie is the most magical unicorn.” 

“Well then.” A predatory smile crept across his face. “I’m sure Miss Twilight Sparkle will be very disappointed to hear that.” 

“She’s an alicorn now; Trixie wins by default.” I waved the accusation off. Many lonely hours on the road had been spent preparing that comeback.

Scepter chortled. “Oh, that is a very good point.” He winked and nudged with an elbow. “No use us mortals comparing themselves against the princesses, is there? Please take a seat. Can I offer you a drink? It’s a bit early for something strong but my doctor doesn’t dare chastise me these days.” 

“Bourbon if you have it.” 

“Ah, a mare after my own heart.” He laughed at his own joke. With an easy economy of motion he strode to a small, but extremely well stocked, drinks cabinet and began to pour out two glasses of bourbon. “I must apologize for the welcome you received to our fair city. I would have asked some of my friends to escort you through the rougher patches, if you’d only written ahead.” 

“Trixie was more than capable of handling it.” I rubbed my still aching horn. “It was a lucky shot.” 

“Indeed?” He passed me the drink. I took a sniff and had to blink tears out of my eyes; he certainly wasn’t buying the cheap stuff. “I guess even the most powerful of us have their off days.” 

I ignored the slight, instead giving the office a once over. It seemed to have escaped the decimation the rest of the mansion had suffered. The carpet under my hooves was rich and dozens of expensive looking relics lined bookshelves and sideboards. Some of those relics seemed to have lept straight out of a Daring Do novel and the itch in my horn suggested they were no less powerful than those fictional finds. 

“Ah, I see you’ve an eye for the ancient,” Scepter observed, and took a sip of his own drink. “It’s remarkable what those long forgotten cultures achieved. So much power locked in stone and metal; it’s almost humbling in its own way.” 

“Trixie was under the impression that producing these was what killed many of those ancient ponies,” I said, repressing a shudder. At least he hadn’t somehow managed to get his hooves on the Alicorn Amulet. I wasn’t sure what I would do if it crossed my path again, but I doubted the end result would be pleasant. 

“Building superweapons does seem to hasten a culture’s demise, I’ll admit.” Scepter laughed. “Though who’s to say if that’s a cause or an effect. I sometimes wonder what the modern pony would do if given such power. All we have left are the trinkets and the few relics that never possess the power they once promised.” His gaze lingered on a golden chalice for a moment. “I think you’re well acquainted with how high the costs such a pursuit can be.” 

I tossed my head. “Trixie is not hearing much about this job.”

“Ha! To the point, I like that.” Scepter clapped his hooves together. “I am putting together a ritual. Tonight, in fact, at sundown. I need a sixth unicorn to power the circle, my previous choice proved unreliable and your good friend Razzle Dazzle promised me he could find somepony to fill their shoes on short notice. Here you are.” 

“Six?” I echoed. Six was a powerful number. There were six Elements. Six founders. Thirty six unicorns had been needed to raise the sun and Canterlot had been carved from the mountain by six nobles. Six ponies, united in purpose, could move metaphysical, and physical, mountains. It was hard to imagine what a crime boss could need such power for. Nothing pleasant came to mind.

“Would you believe that it a healing spell?” Scepter raised his glass for another sip. 

“Not really. How much?” 

“One thousand bits. Cash.” 

My ears shot up and I fought down the urge to immediately double the figure. It was never a good idea to dicker with crime bosses, Scepter could always decide paying me was more hassle than dumping my body in a ditch. Besides, a thousand bits represented more than a months earnings, maybe even three months with how slim my show’s pickings were.

“There are a lot of doctors that would charge you a lot less,” I said, trying to keep my tone level. I took another protective sip of my drink, and managed to drain it dry. 

“There aren’t many doctors who can do what I’m asking. So, are you interested?” 

“What–” I gritted my teeth and bit the bullet. Was this an offer I couldn’t refuse? “What would you say if Trixie was not?” 

“I would be extremely disappointed to hear that.” His eyes flashed with barely constrained menace and a chill ran down my spine. 

“It’s fortunate that Trixie is more than happy to help then,” I said, with indecent haste. “What do you need her to do?” 

Scepter held up a hoof. “First things first, Miss Trixie. I need you to prove your credentials. What, many I ask, is your special talent?” 

I tossed my head, pointing my nose towards the ceiling. “Why, Trixie is the most magical unicorn in all of Equestria,” I proclaimed, slipping fully into my showmare persona. “That is her talent.”

“Well it certainly isn’t false modesty,” Scepter said, raising an eyebrow at me. “Still, what does that mean?” 

“Anything you can do, the Great and Powerful Trixie can do better.” I matched his gaze. “Just try me.” 

The grin that spread across Scepter’s face was an evil thing that should have been left strangled in the cradle. “Really?” he drawled. “Well, that is a talent. Do you want to know what my talent is, Miss Trixie?” He stood, showing me his flank. The cutie-mark was of an ancient wheel, rather reminiscent of those on old earth pony chariots. “Time. As I said, artefacts are my passion, the older and more valuable the better. I have, I dare say, the best eye in the business for the rare and valuable. No pony can match it.” 

“Trixie can.” The words escaped me before I could stop them, and Scepter’s grin widened.

“Well, let us arrange a little test then.” He winced as his magic kindled, and a maelstrom of objects whirled around us. From boxes, shelves, off of chair cushions, and one from a lock box, they rose into the air. Priceless treasures and powerful artefacts whirled around my head and I cast around, trying to keep track of them all. Before I knew what was going on a trio of treasures landed on the desk, each on a velvet cushion. “Tell me, which of these is the most valuable?” 

I froze. Ah, well that was a problem. The three items were each unique in their own way. The first was a necklace, wrought iron at a guess and crudely shaped into the image of the rising sun. It thrummed with power and I could almost hear it whispering promises of greatness in the back of my mind. I pulled away sharply and turned to the next artefact. It was a helmet, sized for a large unicorn but otherwise smooth and unadorned. There was no particular magic to it and I would have dismissed it as a curiosity if it hadn’t been the only object I’d seen under lock and key. Finally, a golden crown was by far the most ostentatious, with a ruby set in the centre the size of my hoof. I did not look to closely, the spells were worn but sticky even at a glance. I could imagine a foalish pony becoming enamoured all too easily.

“So, what do you think?” Scepter’s grinned like a timberwolf with a filly between its paws. “I’ll give you–” 

I jabbed my hoof at the helmet. “That one,” I said, cutting him off. 

He started, his eyes widening in shock. “How...”

“It was the only one in a locked box.” I was unable to keep the smug smile off of my face. “Does this mean Trixie passes your test?” 

Scepter scowled.“Almost,” he spat and tapped the silvery metal with a hoof. “Lift it. No tricks, like lifting the cushion. Just levitate the helmet as high as you can.” 

I met his gaze and cocked an eyebrow, but elicited no responses. Shrugging I kindled my horn, letting my aching magic flow into the metal. With a contemptuous flick of my head the helmet– did nothing. 

Frowning, I probed the helmet with my arcane senses. Some hoof-raised university pet like Twilight Sparkle would have had a name for the odd ‘slipperiness’ of the metal, I knew nothing more than it was like gripping soap in my field. Likewise, there had to be a clever way of avoiding the effect but I didn’t know it. 

My horn blazed as I forced power through it. My grip went from tentative to crushing, yet the helm didn’t even wobble. Setting my forehooves on the table I brought my horn as close to the petulant piece of armour as I could, the room cast into harsh light and deep shadow from the magic pouring from me. My head throbbed as I strained like a filly trying to lift a marble, the pain doubling and redoubling behind my eyes. Still, I fed the furnace of magic before me. Sparks began to fly. Crystal dust and magelights bursting into existence as my mana began to spill into the real world. The helmet didn’t wobble. 

As I grit my teeth together the room went red. Rage filled me, leaping into the gaps where my magic washed away into the yawning void that was the helmet. Eddies in reality began to form, the tell tale sign of a unicorn unrestrained. Objects lifted themselves into the air. Geometry warped at the edges, creating eye bending illusions and twisting singularities. At the centre of the maelstrom of magic the helmet sat, completely unresponsive. 

Laughter echoed in my ears, mocking and mad in equal amounts. Twilight wouldn’t be beaten by a lump of metal, so I refused to be either. An explosion of power raced down the length of my horn and the helmet wobbled, slightly. 

My power escaped my control in an explosion of sound and magenta fire. I collapsed back into my seat, sweat matting my coat, hyperventilating. 

Scepter, for once, seemed lost for words. “Huh,” he said at last. 

I tried to lever myself upright, but gave up as the world spun around me. “What the buck is that thing made of?” I demanded.

“It’s known as star-steel. It’s impervious to magic.” Scepter picked the helm up by the tip of his hoof. “Well, more or less it seems.” 

“The Great and Powerful Trixie–” I took a deep, shuddering breath. “–cares not for such trivialities.” I drew myself up to my full height, biting my tongue to bring the world back into focus. I hoped there would not be another test, the world was going grey around the edges. If I had a light spell left in me I’d be amazed. “Does this mean she passes?” 

“Oh yes, you certainly pass.” Scepter’s grin was predatory once again. “If fact, I want you at my left hoof. Astral!” 

There was a knock at the door and the thestral let himself in. He almost did a double take when he saw the helmet, but fought it down to a mere flick of the eyes. “You called?” 

“Trixie, Great and Powerful, here will be joining us this evening. Please find her a suite and make sure she wants for nothing.” 

“Everything went well then?” Astral trotted over to me and, putting a shoulder under my breast, heaved me onto my hooves. 

Scepter smiled. “Perfectly. Tonight is going to go just as planned.” 

I couldn’t help but feel a chill run through my bones. 





Suite turned out to be a grandiose term for a stripped out guest room with nothing but a mattress for comfort. Still, I was in no state to critique the interior design. Magical exhaustion is tartarus’ own curse, complete with headaches, nausea and the overwhelming desire to curl up into a ball and sleep for a week. After demolishing a cheap triple hayburger, of course.

My ear flicked as the door creaked open. I didn’t move, keeping my eyes shut and my frame relaxed as I dug into my magic reserves. 

“Trix, you still alive in there?” Raz called out, creeping through the doorway. 

I released the spell and grumbling, “go away Raz.”

“I brought soup.” 

Raising my head I glowered at the stallion, now blue maned and black coated. “Leave the soup, then go away.” 

“Come on Trix, you can’t stay in bed all day.” Raz dropped his plot onto the end of the mattress, doing his best to bounce me clear. “Besides, Scepter will be sending his goons soon. The sun’s setting, we need to get ready from this ritual.” 

“Joy.” I plucked the soup from his aura and winced as I threw a cooling spell at it. My horn felt tender, like somepony had been pounding on it with a tiny hammer, but the spell still worked. I proceeded to drain the soup in a couple of deep gulps. 

“Here’s your bowl.” I hurled it into Raz’s chest, rocking him back on his haunches. “Now go away.” 

Raz sighed and hung his head, his ears drooping. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” 

“Trixie does not concern herself with such trivialities,” I snapped. “Leave.” 

“Oh come on!” He threw up his hooves. “Don’t give me the ‘Great and Powerful’ act, Trixie. I’m sorry, okay? What else can I say?” 

Glowering at him I lay back down on the bare mattress. “That you have an escape plan and a team of attractive stallions waiting outside to spirit us off into the night.” A sardonic chuckle escaped me. “Actually, let’s just skip to the attractive stallions.” 

Raz rapped his forehooves against the ground, not meeting my eye. “Um...”

“That was a joke, Raz,” I growled. “Scepter told me you were looking for me.” And it hurt more than I could say to accept that. “Trixie hoped, she really hoped, that you weren’t playing an angle. That this time you were actually acting as my friend and not just conning her. It was clearly too much for her to expect from you.” 

“Oh will you give it a rest with the rutting third person?” Raz exclaimed, throwing up his hooves. His horn flared and I was yanked upright. I stared at him, struggling to fit an angry Raz into my worldview. It was rather like being cursed out by a bunny. “Grow up will you! So you’ve had a crappy day, I have had the month from tartarus! The entire city has gone mad and this was my one shot, my one shot at getting through this nightmare with my hide intact.” 

“Great, so instead of doing what any sane pony would do you dragged Trixie–” Raz scowled. “–fine, me, into this mess with you. Did you not hear when I said that I’m an inch from being banished from all of Equestria? No, you just heard that my dream is in the toilet so you thought, ‘wow, this is a great time to get Trixie into an evil scheme’.” 

“What happened to you Trixie?” Razzle demand. “Three years ago this wouldn’t have phased you. Heck, you would have suggested it as a great way to finally finish your so-called ‘grand project’.” 

My eyes narrowed and I felt magic begin to course down the length of my horn. “You are on very thin ice.” 

“How did that work out for you, Trixie?” Raz began to pace, sparks shooting from the tip of his horn. “How was your dream of being a travelling showmare? I kept an ear out, you know. From what I hear your precious magic show was five parts bluster, two parts bullying and one part actual magic. No wonder when you ran into a Princess she drummed you out of town.” 

“That’s it!” I roared, slamming my hooves down. A wave of magic raced from me, but Raz threw up a glittering shield that rebuffed the attack. “I did not get drummed out of town. I was attacked by a star-bear! It was two stories tall and only a pair of idiot foals could expect anypony to deal with the monster. Expect, of course, for the oh-so-perfect Princess in training Twilight Sparkle. Of course she could slay the beast, and tear down my rutting dream along with it!” 

“So you just gave up then?” Raz demanded, his own magic burning phosphor bright at the tip of his horn. “That’s not the Trixie I knew. She wouldn’t have just given up!” 

“No, she would have come up with some way of getting even,” I snarled, my horn flashing red. Raz skidded back a half pace as his shield buckled. “She would have bartered her sanity for power and conquered a small town. Do you understand, Raz? I almost crippled a dozen ponies. I broke every rule of magic imaginable. I was a mon–” 

Raz’s magic winked out. Unrestrained my spell picked up the pony and slammed him against the wall driving the air out of his lungs. 

“Raz!” I screamed. The magic vanished and he slumped to the floor. I galloped to his side. “I didn’t mean to... I just wanted to...”

“Urgh.” Raz rolled onto his back and held a hoof to his head. “When did you learn to buck like that, Trix'?” 

I drew myself back, held a hoof to my chest, took a deep, steadying breath and tried to act unconcerned. “Trixie learned– argh!” I batted myself on the muzzle. “I mean, I’m really sorry.” 

Raz chuckled. “Heh, you know I think that might actually be the first I’ve ever heard you apologize.” He shook himself and struggled back to his hooves. I just hung my head, a deep sigh escaping me. 

“Oh come on,” he said, holding a hoof against his horn. “No snappy comeback, even for little old me?” Raz batted his eyelashes at me. 

For once he didn’t get a rise. “Raz, didn’t you ever wonder if there was a reason I wanted to stay on the straight and narrow?” 

“I figured that you got the fear of Celestia drummed into you, in person.” Raz snorted at his own joke, I just sighed. “Seriously Trix, thing’s aren’t that bad. It’s just a spell.” 

I shot him a contemptuous look. “Raz, we’re about to perform a six pony spell, at sundown, for a cult of thestrals. If we get out of this without anypony being turned possessed, cursed, banished to the moon–or all three–then we’ll talk.” 

“When did you get so cynica–” 

A knock on the door cut Razzle off. Astral did not wait for an answer, the thestral strode into the room, strutting as if he owned the place. “I hope I’m not interrupting. But you two lovebirds really need to get your tails in gear if we’re going to get this ritual done. You can discus Trixie's tragic past later." 

I scowled at him. “Have you been eavesdropping?” 

“It’s not really eavesdropping when you’re shouting loud enough to shake the walls,” Astral pointed out, smirking. “Still, we need to get going.” His tone darkened, and he fixed us with a steely gaze. “You cannot be late.” 

"I don't take well to threats," I proclaimed, drawing up to my full height.

"It was more of a statement, really." Astral said, shrugging and three of his biggest cousins shouldered their way into the room. "Now, let's go."

I glared at Razzle. "Trixie reserves the right to say ‘I told you so’."

"Duly noted."

Not a word was said as we were hustled towards the cellars. The ritual made itself felt long before I laid eyes on it. The magic lay heavy in the air, a great cloying wealth of power that made my hooves spark on the stone. My horn felt like somepony had put a sparkler at the base and I had to bite down on my tongue to keep spells from slipping out. Even the thestrals seemed to feel the power in the air; they were jumpy, keeping their weapons close to hoof and snapping at every little sound. Astral was the only one who seemed to be able to keep his nerves in check, though didn’t seem to be able to stop smiling. 

I felt like I was in a Daring Do story, descending into the bowels of the earth at the behest of a pagan god. I even had the cultish tribesponies at my side, even if I’d never call the batwinged ponies that to their faces. As the magelights faded away I was suddenly all too aware of the tales of live sacrifice and cannibalism that clung to the thestrals even after all these years. Even Princess Luna had decried the rumours of cannibalism during the Nightmare War, but who’s to say they hadn’t learned a new trick over the centuries.

Darkness pooled around my hooves, making every step a struggle. Light seemed a distant memory. I was dimly aware that I could cast a spell to guide my path but... it was gone, crushed by the gloom. I found myself with my eyes fixed on Astral's tail, hoping against hope that it wouldn't vanish, leaving me alone in the crushing dark. Sounds were deadened by the darkness and smells faded away, overwhelmed by the scent of mildew and decay. There seemed to be nothing to the world beyond Astral's hoof-falls and my own pounding heart. Time ceased to have any meaning. We could have walked thirty yards, or a hundred miles, there was no way to tell.

After an eternity in darkness, I stepped into the ritual chamber like a castaway staggering back onto the mainland. Not that there was any light, but there was so much magic in the air it made little difference. The ritual chamber blazed black with power, outlining every jagged surface in violent lightning. Four horns awaited us, already burning with power and the metallic stink of magic filled my nose.

"Ah, Trixie and Razzle." A spark, a radiant burst of light, blazed suddenly before Scepter. Both Raz and I shied back, the tiny chip of sunlight blinding after the oppressive void. "Come, take your places, Trixie you are at my left hoof."

Four ponies stood in the spell circle. The circle itself spilled over the chalk that marked its physical boundaries, it was a huge thing, meters across and detailed in runes that seemed to twist away from my eyes, as if they didn't want to be observed. Six large lobes sat equidistant from each other at the cardinal points of the circle, with Scepter surrounded by the thickest knots of runes. Ritual magic was not my forte, but even a blind earth pony could feel the menace in the air. At the very centre of the tangle of runes and magic sat Scepter’s silver helmet, seemingly unconcerned by the titanic energies coursing around it. 

"I..." I began, though I had no idea if I wanted to protest or just ask for a lemonade.

"Step forward unicorn!" 

I shrieked and whirled. A thestral, in his early twilight years judging by his fading coat, loomed out of the shadows, an ugly scowl on his face. 

"To your place."

Two dozen slitted eyes regarded me from around the room, the barely constrained menace crackling in the mana drenched air. As my eyes adjusted to the spark of light, I made out the perfectly still forms of a dozen Nightmare’s Children. The thestrals seemed to deserve their name, there in the utter blackness, more than they ever had beneath the sunlight, or moonlight for that matter.

“Come on, Trix,” Raz whispered, nudging me. “No turning back now.” 

I tried to swallow the lump in my throat, but it didn’t seem to help. Raz nudged me into my position next to Scepter and, numb, I allowed myself to be lead. He took up his position in the circle, bracketing me. 

“Kindle,” Scepter said, his voice echoing through the spell. 

I lit my horn, completing the circle and bathing us in the eerie twilight of magic. Across the circle from me was a slight mare with a vicious scar across her cheek, who glared at me as if I’d killed her first born. She was flanked by a huge stallion who kept glancing at Scepter for reassurance and a nervous looking colt who looked barely old enough to earn his mark. 

Power began to flow from my horn, as the ritual demanded and I acquiesced. Cold, deep and draining--like ice water--trickled down from my horn and through my quivering frame. The ache in my head returned within moments and stars danced before my eyes as my magic was sucked away. A deep sonorous chant was taken up by the thestrals, and dark visions began to flash before my eyes. I couldn’t tell if they were part of the magic or my mind playing tricks on me in the dark. 

“Please don’t be evil,” I begged in a whisper, trembling as still more magic poured from me, my breath coming in short, ragged gasps. “Please don’t be evil.” 

“Lady of the Darkness, we call upon you!” Scepter boomed, as raw power crackled around him. With a sweep of his horn the ritual caught upon the helm. With a scream it shot into the air, tearing a great black rent in the air along its path. “Mother of Monsters, we beseech you!” 

My breath came in a short sharp bursts, my horn going red as I dug as deep into my reserves as I dared. A single dark hoof pushed its way out of the hole. It was not black, even black is a colour, it was a hoof made of complete and utter void. 

“Mistress of Illusions, step free from your bonds!” Scepter roared, slamming his forehooves down. The circle exploded, power washing over us like a wave and the colt let out a strangled scream as lightning crashed around us. I flung a leg before my eyes, feeling my coat burn and freeze all at once as the wild magic eathed all around us. 

“Rise! Rise, Queen of Nightmares,” Scepter screamed. “We summon you, NIGHTMARE MOON.” 

The roar of lightning reached a crescendo and went utterly silent. I lowered my hoof, my stomach tied in knots. There, stood at the very centre of the circle and silhouetted by cooling spell-fires, was an alicorn. Her coat was as dark as the blackest cave, her slitted eyes a piercing green and it seemed the very air was freezing at her touch. The helmet settled onto her head with a pulse of escaping magic, and all became still. 

“Rut,” I swore, breaking the silence. 

Princess Celestia was going to be banish me to the moon. 
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Who dares?” The dark alicorn cast her eyes across the frozen circle, meeting our terrified gazes in turn. "Who dares rouse me from my slumber? Who dares to defy the Sun?"

"I do," Scepter boomed; the catch in his voice was well hidden. "I have summoned you, Nightmare." 

Her slitted eyes snapped to the stallion and she stalked a pace towards him before pulling up short, her nose inches from the circle. "Summoned? No, you have not. You called, little pony. You called across the void and through the chains of harmony, and I have answered. Tell me, little pony, why did you dare face the wrath of the Nightmare?"

She strode with feline grace around her confines of her circle. "Do you wish for knowledge? I know many secrets of this forsaken world. Kingdoms rose with the right words, and kingdoms have crumbled with the wrong." The Nightmare paused before the scared mare. "Or perhaps you would prefer a weapon, a curse upon your enemies, or a doom of nightmares eternal?" She reached me, and I felt my coat stand on end as her eyes bored into my soul. 

"Or does your heart yearn for power?” she said, her voice no more than a harsh whisper. “Twice before I provided such a blessing. Once, to a group such as you, thrice damned by their actions, and once to your own dear Princess Luna." She tossed her head and continued. Suddenly free from her terrible gaze I almost collapsed there and then, struggling to stand on legs that had turned to jelly. 

“Well then? Speak already.” At last she came to rest before Scepter regarding him with glare of utter contempt. “Already my prison draws me back, so speak! Before I forsake this waste of time and destroy you all for your insolence.” 

I was beginning to get why the Princesses banished her the first time around. 

Scepter took a deep, steadying breath and met the Nightmare’s gaze. “We wish to free you,” he said, with quiet confidence.

“What!” It took a moment to realise the cry had escaped me, and a warning growl from the thestrals at my back quelled any further protest. 

“Well now, that is interesting,” the Nightmare purred. She stepped out of the circle, which offered not a spark of protest as the alicorn began to circle Scepter. “My children have tried for many years to spring me from my eternal trap, to no avail. You have come closer than any before you, but it is not a fraction of what you need to break Harmony’s hold.” She leaned in close and murmured in his ear. “What will you give to see me free?” 

“Everything,” he said, without hesitation. “Mind, body and soul.” 

“Indeed.” She lowered her head, holding her horn a mere millimetre from his. “Well in that case–” A lazy spark of magic rolled from the base of her forehead, down the length of her tapered horn “–perhaps I will...” 

Her head snapped up and Scepter almost fell over, stumbling with all four hooves as he leaned into a presence that was no longer there. “No. I am too hasty,” the Nightmare announced, striding back into the glowing ring. “After all, six potential hosts stand before me. It would be foolish to chose the first willing body to hurl themselves at my hooves.” 

I glared at Raz, mouthing the word, ‘host?’ He had the audacity to look sheepish. I made a personal promise to throw him in bay when we got out of this. Or rather, if we got out of this. 

“I... but Nightmare,” Scepter stammered. It seemed the ritual had gone badly off of script. “I am your most faithful servant, you–” 

Suddenly she was right in front of him. Between eyeblinks she had doubled in size and towered over Scepter, great waves of darkness and lightning rolling off of her coat. “DO NOT DARE DICTATE TO ME, LITTLE PONY!” she bellowed, the whole room trembling beneath the onslaught. “Before you stands a GOD! The last true god. I will have your respect or I will have your heads.” 

She diminished, her body evaporating into smoke until she’d returned to the size of an overlarge pony. It may have been my imagination, but she seemed smaller than her earlier incarnation, perhaps her time was already running out. 

“Understood?” the Nightmare fixed us all with her soul rending gaze. Utter silence reigned. 

“Good.” The self-satisfied purr returned to her voice. She advanced on Scepter’s right-hoof pony. “Now, what is your name, little pony, and what is it that you wish from being my vessel?” 

The huge stallion swallowed. “I...” the syllable slipped from his lips, but the rest seemed stuck to his tongue. He glanced at Scepter, his eyes pleading, like a drowning pony’s begging for a rope. Scepter merely waved him on. 

“Come on, come on,” the Nightmare snapped. 

“I’m... I’m Heavy Hooves, Your Majesty, and I wish for nothing.” 

The Nightmare sighed. “I hate insipid loyalty. You are a child of this forsaken world; all you care for is food and sex. Do not try to fool me into thinking that you are some enlightened monk and tell me what do you want!” 

“I...” The thug shot another desperate look towards Scepter. There was no reassurance there, though, only wary suspicion. “I want power.” 

“Give the pony a prize, he got there in the end.” The darkness pooled around her, as she narrowed her eyes. “Now, let’s see if you can claim it.” 

Like a viper she struck, lunging forward and, with a clack that sent shivers down the spines of every unicorn in the room, their horns struck. Heavy Hooves went as stiff as a board, his eyes locked with the Nightmare’s. A slow smile spread across her face, her lips pulling back to reveal a hunter’s fangs as Heavy Hooves’ back leg began to tremble. 

“Well,” she said, magic wreathed her horn, a deep indigo, almost black. “I’m waiting.” 

The fool tried. 

Gritting his teeth, the stallion lit his horn and dark power flooded into him. His eyes flew wide, flashing as black as tar for just an instant before the magic vanished. A low keen escaped Heavy Hooves’ throat, rather like that of a mouse crushed by a trap, and he fell. He toppled, hitting the ground with a muffled thud, blood streaming from his nose, eyes and ears. His vacant eyes stared sightlessly out from bloody sockets. 

“Goddesses,” Raz swore. The colt next to him screamed and the scared mare smiled as Heavy Hooves’ blood dripped onto the floor. Only Scepter and I seemed unsurprised, we’d both realised the stallion was dead the moment the Nightmare turned her gaze upon him. 

“Disappointing.” The Nightmare didn’t linger over the body, nor show any indication that she cared about the stallion whose life she’d just snuffed out. She proceeded around the circle to the scared mare who stepped forwards to meet her. 

“I am Red,” she snarled, glaring daggers at the alicorn. She had a curious accent, oddly forced, I wondered if it was because of the scar. “And I want to bring nightmares.” 

The Nightmare’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure whether I am insulted or flattered. Why, little pony?” 

Red’s grin was ugly. “Because fear rules.” 

“Indeed it does.” The pair touched horns. 

Red’s pupils dilated and her eyes went blank. A second later she began to scream. It was a horrible, soul rending wail that went on and on, clawing at my ears and sending shivers down my spine. It was a scream of utter agony and utter terror, and it ended only when Red ran out of breath and collapsed, shivering, curled into a ball and stroking her tail like a foal. 

“But you don’t rule your fear,” the Nightmare said, stepping over her. 

“Trix’,” Raz hissed, suddenly, as the Nightmare advanced on the trembling colt. “We need to go.” He was trembling from hoof to horn, little splotches of colour appearing and vanishing as fast as they came. With wild eyes he cast around for an escape route, but all there was beyond our little circle of arcane light were dozens of angry, inequine eyes. 

“How?” I asked, simply. 

“I don’t know, do something! Anything! You’re the one with the plans, think of something!” 

“Well then,” the Nightmare stood before the shivering colt. Sneering down her nose she demanded, “your name?” 

He ran. 

The kid had good instincts, you had to give him that. Without ever a warning tremble, he was suddenly fleeing at a wild gallop into the gloom. 

“Kill him,” Nightmare barked. 

A strangled cry echoed out from the ring of grim eyes, and the sound of hoof on stone vanished. 

Raz swallowed a huge lump in his throat. “Trixie,” my name escaped him in a shrill whine. “Help. Oh Goddesses, help.” 

Plans flickered and died as I tried to conceive of any way to escape the closing trap. A flare could blind the thestrals, giving us a chance to run; but we didn’t know which way was out. A properly placed spell could invert the summoning; but I had no idea what spell that was. A teleportation charm was a possibility; but I didn’t know one. Smoke bombs, slight-of-hoof, electric shocks, the shadows of plans chased each other in circles through my mind. Not a one could defeat the dark alicorn who was prowling like a cat who’d cornered a mouse. 

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear,” the Nightmare growled, looming over Razzle. “I seek a host. A vessel to drag me into this forsaken world. In exchange I shall grant your every petty, mortal desire.” Lightning crackled across her coat and Raz let out a startled squeak.. “So stand! Stop quivering! And give me what I want!” She slammed a forehoof down, shattering the stone floor and sending razor sharp silvers flying in all directions. 

“Please,” Raz begged. “Don’t kill me.” 

I wondered what Twilight Sparkle would do. She faced the Nightmare before and won. Had she been scared? Had she thought that she too was about to die? My breath had caught in my throat as I watched Raz tremble. How would Twilight get out of this? 

“Your NAME?” the Nightmare bellowed. 

Well, Twilight would make an overly condescending speech about friendship. Then she’d blast the Nightmare with some insanely powerful magical artifact. One that she had received from Celestia earlier that week. 

“Raz...” The rest of his name seemed to get lost somewhere between his throat and his mouth. “I don’t want to die. Please–” He dropped to his knees. “–I just want to go home.” 

I can tell you what Twilight wouldn’t do, though. 

“Pathetic.” The Nightmare lowered her horn towards him. 

She wouldn’t watch a friend die. 

“Hey!” I strode towards the pair, puffing out my chest and strutting like a tenth-bit hero. I paused a moment, as I realised I hadn’t really thought through my plan any further, then said the first thing that popped into my head. "I'm first."

As final words went, they weren't great. Still, they got the job done.

The Nightmare's head whipped around, and she glowered at me. "Do not interrupt," she snarled. "Your time will come." 

"Oh Trixie is sorry," I said, in a condescending drawl. "Trixie didn't realise that you were the ‘Queen of Orderly Queues’ as well." I paused a beat to be immolated but, though the Nightmare's glare could have burned through steel at ten paces, she made no move to stop me. 

I advanced, my pulse pounding in my ears. "So, are you done toying with these lesser unicorns?" I demanded, with as much stage gravitas as I could muster. "Are you ready to test yourself against the Great and Powerful Trixie?" I wished I had some fireworks. The finest—or was that final—introduction of my life deserved a grander stage than a dimly lit cellar.

"You have quite a mouth on you," the Nightmare observed, raising an eyebrow at me. She took a step away from Raz, who seemed to fold in on himself, sinking down to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. “Who are you?” 

“No less than the most powerful unicorn in all Equestria,” I proclaimed, keenly aware of the head and a half the Nightmare had on me as the dark alicorn advanced. 

“Really?” The Nightmare began to circle me, like a shark spiralling ever closer to a helpless foal. “So why are you here, little pony? Why do you not dazzle Celestia’s Court with your talents? Why not share your gift with the students of some great university? What brings you so deep into the dark when your star shines so bright?” 

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. She was right, of course. Despite everything I’d ever struggled for, despite my talents and despite my every dream, I’d still ended up in a cellar facing down Darkness incarnate. 

I blame Twilight Sparkle. 

“Oh, but you want it to be true, don’t you?” she murmured in my ears. Her coat brushed against mine, sending freezing sparks down the length of my spine. “The fame, the power, the legions of fans. You see yourself as the hero, but nopony else does. I know what it is you wish of me.” 

I nodded. I knew too.

She stood such that our horns were a mere half inch apart. “You wish for–” 

“Justice.” 

“–glory.” She paused, frowning. “Well, isn’t that interesting. Perhaps you have half a chance.” 

Our horns struck, and the world vanished. 



 

I grumbled to myself as I strained against the stone, every muscle aflame. With a great groan and wet sucking sound the boulder shifted, sliding maybe half a hoof further towards the summit. 

“You’re pushing that wrong, Trixie.” 

I shot the grey mare an angry glare. “Shut up, Maud.” 

She pushed me aside and the rock slid back into its furrow. “You need to put your whole body into the motion.” 

“Shut up, Maud,” I repeated. 

Bracing herself against the boulder she hunkered low. “But first you need to make sure your footing is solid. No rocks rising above the others.”

My eyes narrowed. “Shut up, Maud.” I rejoined her at the stone, trying to match her stance in the muddy ground. 

“Then, you need to press your head firmly against the rock,” she continued, setting her head. “Like this.” 

There was a horrible scrape of horn on stone as I tried, honestly tried, to follow along. I ended up with my cheek pressed against the boulder, facing Maud’s disapproving eyes. “Shut up,” I begged. 

“Ah, I see the problem.” 

“Please, shut up.” 

“The horn.” 

“Please...” 

“It has to come off, Trixie.” 

I screamed, as Maud advanced on me, and tried to flee. The mud turned to glue in an instant, holding my hooves fast and I struggled and strained against the morass. My horn sparked like a little filly’s as a ring of angry ponies closed around me, their muddy hooves tugging on my tail and grasping at my coat. 

“Get away!” I shrieked. “Trixie won’t be like you. She won't!” The ground sucked me down, dragging me deeper and deeper into the muck and–

I was stood, trembling with fear, next to the Nightmare atop the boulder. The pale blue filly disappeared beneath the soil and crushing mass of earth ponies. 

“And you say you don’t seek glory,” the Nightmare observed, a condescending smirk on her face. “This is your first nightmare, Trixie, the crushing fear of others dragging you down. This is the nightmare that broke you.” 

“Trixie...” I swallowed the lump in my throat. The filly’s screams, my screams, still echoed in my ears even as the dream began to fade away. “Trixie did not break.” 

She pricked her ear up. “Oh? You threw away everything, your family, your home, your future and risked your life because of what? A little filly’s fear that other ponies didn’t want her to be special.” 

I set my hooves in a broad, rock pushing, stance, my eyes narrowing. “Perhaps you think you’re still talking to the filly,” I snapped, jabbing a hoof at the now empty field. “She’s gone. Trixie doesn’t need your spoon fed glory, she became the greatest and most powerful unicorn all by herself.” 

“Really?” The Nightmare grinned. “Shall we see how that went?” 

Her smile grew wider and wider, her teeth ballooning outwards until each was as broad as my hoof, and I was staring up at a sky full of vicious, pony rending fangs. It took me a moment to realise the twinkling stars above my head were not in the night's sky, but part of the luminescent hide of the most terrifying monster ever made, an ursa minor. 

“Save us Trixie!” came the dimwitted cry. The two lackwit colts huddled behind my legs, as if I would pose any kind of shield against the monstrosity. 

“Yeah, use your magic.” 

“This is a dream,” I assured myself, as the hot breath of the ursa washed over me. It smelt of blazing iron and burned my nose and eyes. Somehow the knowledge that it was just a memory made no difference. 

The beast roared, drawing back a paw to crush us and I pulled as much power as I could muster into my horn. A lighting bolt burst from my horn with a deafening boom and struck the monstrosity right in the nose. It had the sole effect of, slightly, irritating the star-bear, and its eyes narrowed. 

Adrenaline flooding my system I desperately pulled more magic into my horn. Moments before the blow struck a dull magenta bubble shield burst into life around myself and the foals. With a boom the paw struck and hurled us across Ponyville square. My spell failed an instant after the blow, leaving us to the tender mercies of physics and I hit the ground hard, tumbling head over hooves. I came to a stop upside down, my rump against my faithful wagon. 

“This is a dream,” I repeated, wincing in pain as I staggered onto my hooves. 

The ground shook as the ursa let out a bellowing roar and charged me down. Its eyes were as red as fire rubies and its open jaws seemed to lead to the very darkest pits of Tartarus. 

“Help us!” The idiot foals lay in its path screaming for aid when they should have been running. “Please!” 

I didn’t. 

I couldn’t, they’d seen that. Everypony in town had already watched my humiliation at their hooves. Somehow though they still cried for Trixie to save them, even as I watched them vanish beneath the titanic paws of the ursa. 

There was nothing left between the beast and my cart. Mustering the last dregs of power, reaching as deep as I could to protect my home, launched a phosphor bright flare at the ursa. It had no visible effect, I have no idea why I thought I could dazzle a beast made out of stars.

I hurled myself out of the way as, with a great scream of tearing timber, it demolished my wagon. Bellows of rage and screams of terror echoed around me as I pulled my hat down over my eyes, not wanting to see my life torn to shreds yet again. 

“Trixie,” Princess Twilight Sparkle said, suddenly before me. “What have you done?” 

Begrudgingly, I lifted my eyes. The ursa, miniaturised and trapped in a glass bottle, raged against the walls of its prison, but Twilight held it in her aura with no visible strain. 

“How could you let this happen?” she demanded. “How could you choose to save a wagon over the lives of innocent foals?” 

“This is a dream,” I told her, standing. “And I chose to save my dreams.” 

“You’re a monster.” There was no malice in her tone, just a clinical statement of fact. 

My eyes narrowed. “I’m a monster?” I demanded, jabbing a hoof into her chest. “Did I lure a beast to attack Ponyville? Did I ridicule your magic? Did I make your name mud in all Equestria? No! It was you who crushed my home, my dreams and my life. You’re the monster here, not Trixie!” 

I realised the fur I was poking was midnight black and looked up in horror to see the Nightmare before me, grinning. 

“Oh no, Trixie, you are a monster,” she assured me. “I’ll even prove it.” 

A heavy weight settled around my neck. I knew what it was without looking. Still, despite my better judgement, I glanced down. The crass black and red spikes of the alicorn amulet greeted me, and already the power of the infernal relic began to flow through my veins. 

It would have been easier to resist if the amulet followed the classical sort of evil. If it chilled the flesh, or set my blood aflame, or tore a pony into the realm of wraiths then perhaps it would be easy to resist. The alicorn amulet, however, just made me feel good. Wonderful even, like I was standing on stage before an electric crowd. While I was wearing it everything felt possible, easy even, and yet I felt icicles run down my spine. 

“No, please,” I said, whimpering. “This isn’t right. This isn’t Trixie.” 

“Isn’t it?” The Nightmare whispered in my ear. “You know what the alicorn amulet does better than anypony alive. They think it brings insanity, but you know what it really brings, don’t you?” 

Raz began to scream as the flames ate at him. His agony swirling around the dreamscape in ruddy clumps. It was an idle fantasy, once, but with the amulet it would have become action in an instant. 

“Say it.” 

I shook my head. Ornery scrabbled at my hooves, silently pleading for his mouth back. 

“Say it!” 

Twilight screamed, clutching the bloody void where her horn once sat. 

“Freedom!” I roared. A shockwave raced away from me, the images vanishing into mist as it struck, leaving the Nightmare and I alone. “Freedom,” I continued, my voice just a whimper. “It allows your true self to shine through. Unfettered by morals or fear.”

The Nightmare smirked. “Ah, we got there in the end. I like you, Trixie. All your life you’ve wanted power, and respect, and fame, and... well I could go on and on. It's a shame that you hate that liberated self so much.” 

My eyes narrowed and I rounded on her. “She was a monster,” I growled. “But that isn’t what the Great and Powerful Trixie is. I’m better than that. I am a good pony.” 

She threw back her head and laughed, her cackles echoing around the empty dreamscape. “Oh that is wonderful, you couldn’t be further from the truth. Watch.” 

The dream shifted again and I found myself sat in Canterlot atop a broad throne. Celestia’s audience chamber was not quite as I remembered it. Blue and silver banners hung from the walls, emblazoned with my cutie-mark, and silver trim lined the carpet, the windows and the furniture. The stained glass windows were swept clean of Twilight Sparkle’s successes and replaced by glittering pictures of my many triumphs. Somehow I could not bring any one image into focus, but I was sure of their content. Silver armoured stallions stood in rows, three deep against the walls, each carrying a vicious spear. 

“Ah-hem!” the Nightmare proclaimed, dressed in the foppish finery of my court herald. “Now to face Queen Trixie’s judgement, the Traitor Princesses’!” 

The four princesses of Equestria were half walked, half dragged down the carpet towards me. Thick bands of iron bound their hooves together and welded cages kept their wings trapped at their sides. I winced as I saw their horns, filed flat less than an inch from their brows, but it was just a twinge. Finally, the so called ‘rulers’ of Equestria stood before me, laid low. Finally, it was Trixie who sat on the throne, ready to dispense justice. 

“So, it has come to this,” I said, rising to my hooves. I spread my wings as I towered over the little alicorns. “For all your foolish pride, you still ended up before the Great and Powerful Trixie in chains. How does it feel to know Trixie was right from the start?” I drew in a deep breath and boomed. “Trixie is truly the greatest pony in all Equestria!” 

Thunder rolled, and lightning flashed beyond the stained glass windows, casting harsh shadows across the princesses who flinched back. All except Twilight Sparkle of course. The pissaint alicorn, her legs trembling, her feathers haggard and limp, matched my terrifying gaze.

“Trixie. You are a fraud.” 

“What!” I roared, the room going dark as I drew a titanic surge of magic to my horn. “I brought you low, Twilight Sparkle! I saved Equestria when you could not!” 

“No, you didn’t, Trixie,” she said, quite calm despite my towering rage. “This is a dream.” 

And suddenly it was. The twisted logic of dreams fell apart under a moment's scrutiny and I found myself staring at Twilight, gaping like a beached fish. 

“Oh, such a pity,” the Nightmare cooed, sidling to my side. “You were so close to defeating them once and for all. Yet somehow, even in your own head, you can’t seem to win.” 

I felt sick and a great shudder ran down the length of my spine as I saw the horrific wounds I’d inflicted on the princesses with fresh eyes. “Trixie...” I swallowed my gall. “Trixie doesn’t dream of that.” 

“Please,” the Nightmare said, rolling her eyes. “Luna may be the new Mistress of Dreams, but I know one when I see it. This is what you want, Trixie.” She tapped the crown on my head. “You say you want justice, but I think you just want the crown. You want to be the one on the throne passing down divine judgements.” She pointed at the huddle of alicorns. “Go on, no pony will stop you.” 

As if part of some great mechanism every eye in the hall snapped to me, awaiting Queen Trixie’s decision. I glanced at the Nightmare, who bared her fangs in her vicious parody of a smile. Taking a deep breath I said, softly. “Be free.” 

The alicorns’ bonds shattered, along with the windows and every guardspony in the room. I wrenched the crown from my head and threw it at the Nightmare’s hooves. 

“Trixie won’t play this game,” I told her. My wings faded away, replaced by my showmare’s cloak. “This isn’t what I am.” 

“Oh? Then what are you, Great and Powerful Trixie? Here you sit, on Celestia’s throne dreaming of justice against those who slighted you. That is not the dream of a good pony.” She began to circle me again, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’ll tell you what you truly are. A liar. A thief. A bully. A coward.” I flinched back from every accusation, but couldn’t defend myself. “You’re a bitter and spiteful mare.” She took a step back, spreading her wings wide. “You, my dear Trixie, are perfect.” 

I did a double take. “What?” the word slipped out before I could stop it. It was not the most heroic of responses. 

“Congratulations,” she said, with a cold smile. “You are going to help me destroy Equestria.” 

Oh. Well that was a very bad sign. 

“And if Trixie refuses?” I managed to squeak out. 

Her eyes transfixed me. Sorry, my dear, but it’s far too late to refuse. 

She blinked, and the world went dark. 





The morning sun was just peaking over the edge of the windowsill when my eyes flicked open. My heart was pounding, as if I’d just galloped a marathon and every muscle in my body started screaming at me in protest. 

A low groan escaped me, and I reached around in vain for a pillow to press over my eyes. There was a muffled mutter from next to my ear, and I was suddenly aware of the pair of legs draped around my neck. Their owner was lucky I knew his hooves, or he would have ended up blasted through a wall. 

“Raz,” I growled. 

“What?” he asked, letting out a sleepy groan. He didn’t move, however. 

“What are you doing in my bed?” I demanded, my tone as cold as ice. 

“Oh, if I had a bit for every time I’d heard that,” he sighed. He started suddenly. “Wait, Trixie? You’re alright!” His forelegs tightened around my neck like a vice. 

“Air!” I protested, kicking like a mule. “I need air.” I scrambled free, rolling off the mattress, and onto the floor. Fortunately, the little suite hadn’t gained a bed frame in the time I’d been away, so I didn’t fall far.

“Are you okay, Trixie?” Raz exclaimed leaping forwards. “Are you feeling... Nightmarish?” He held up a hoof. “Quick, on a scale of one to ten, tell me how much you want to plunge Equestria into eternal night.” 

I shot him a flat look. “Well, it's six a.m. and I don’t feel like I’ve slept for a week. About a three, three and a half.” Raz failed to meet my eye, and I added. “Which is about normal.” 

“So...” he shuffled his hooves. “You won?” 

“I did not lose,” I said, after a long pause. “I’m not dead nor mad, I think.” Red’s scared and  screaming face flashed before my eyes, and I shied back, shaking my head. “I... what happened while I was out?” 

“Well, not a lot. When you touched horns with the Nightmare you kind of... stared each other down for a few minutes and then—goddesses Trix’—she turned to smoke and you just kind of absorbed her. Scepter went crazy. The thestrals seemed about ready to tear your throat out. By that point, though, you’d collapsed and gone jet black, so nopony wanted to get close enough to touch you.” 

I glanced down at my coat. It was my usual cerulean blue. 

“Yeah, you got better,” Raz confirmed. “But you were muttering to yourself and twitching. In the end they decided to just wait and see what happened and put you to bed.” 

“Well.” I drew myself up to my full height. “You’ll be pleased to know that the Great and Powerful Trixie, unlike the foolish Twilight Sparkle, has mastered the...” I petered out as Raz’s expression became more and more sceptical. I shuddered. “Okay, you’re right,” I hissed. “We’re in way over our heads and I think I’m now host to an ancient alicorn set to destroy all life as we know it.” 

“Right... so what do we do?” 

I glanced around. “How about... we sneak out while everypony is still sleeping, then don’t stop running until we reach Zebradia?” 

Raz’s expression was inscrutable for a moment, as he thought it over. “Good plan,” he said at last, hurrying over to the window. “Let's go.” 

He was halfway through opening it when a pair of slitted eyes, flashing with the reflected light of the room, appeared before him. Raz let out an effeminate shriek and staggered backwards as Astral let himself into the room. 

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Astral said, keeping his voice low. He didn’t seem to have noticed our abortive escape attempt. “Are you...” he fixed me with a calculating look. “No, you’re not the Nightmare, are you?” 

I sighed. I got the feeling I’d hear that a lot. “No, Trixie is Trixie, for better or for worse.” 

“Worse in this case,” Astral pushed passed us, putting an ear against the door. “I don’t have long, I’m supposed to be getting you both for breakfast, but I can only dawdle so long. I–I needed to tell you what’s been going on. The whole colony is up in arms after the ritual, it wasn’t supposed to go that way, I promise you.” 

My eyes narrowed. “What, Trixie wasn’t supposed to become Nightmare’s chosen, or she wasn’t supposed to survive?” Magic began to pool around my horn. 

“Hey! Nopony had to die,” Astral protested, holding up his hooves between us. “That was all the Nightmare’s work.” 

“Yes, because I’m sure you all trusted a thousand bits to keep anypony from running to the guards.” I gave a dismissive toss of my head. “Trixie has a bridge to sell to anypony who’d believe that story.” 

Astral’s jaw dropped. “My father would never–” He cut himself off, either unwilling to lie or unwilling to argue the point. “Look, it doesn’t matter. You’ve thrown every plan they had off the rails. My father, Paterfamilias Blade, and my uncles are about a hair’s breadth from fighting in the courtyard over whether we should be bending knee to you or not. Scepter is plain murderous, I’ve never seen a pony so angry before. I don’t want anypony else to die over this, so I have to ask you something.” He looked me, right in the eye. “Are you there, Your Majesty?” 

“Yes.” 

I should have lied, but somehow I couldn’t. It would have been like trying to claim ‘the sky is red’ with a straight face. 

A shudder ran from the tip of Astral’s tail all the way to his wings. “Right. Good. Great even, Your Majesty. If we can just–” His tufted ears shot up. “–Ah rut, somepony is coming. Just try not to say anything that gets you killed.” 

With remarkable speed he dove through the window. Raz and I shared a long look.

“You know, I think I’ve always tried to live by that,” I said, shaking my head. 

Raz rolled his eyes. “I prefer our old gang slogan.” 

“Stand by your friends,” I said, a chuckle escaping me. 

“Take what you can,” Raz continued. 

“And run like you stole it,” we chorused. 

There was a knock on the door and I sighed. “There’s going to be a lot of running in our future.” I paused a moment, putting on my stage face. Then wrenched the door open with my magic, revealing a pair of surprised stallions, a thestral and a large unicorn. 

“Well?” I demanded. “What is it that you want?” 

The disparity in reaction was amazing. The thestral looked like he wasn’t sure whether to bow or not. The unicorn looked like he wanted to kick my teeth in. 

“Boss wants you at breakfast,” the unicorn growled, before his colleague could squeeze a word out. “Is it Nightmare or Trixie now?” 

I lit my horn building power for a summoning spell. It was exhausting to teleport objects more than a couple yards, but an excellent trick to wow the–

There was a sudden crack and a billow of smoke as my performer’s hat and cloak materialised. I was so surprised I almost let them fall. Long practiced sleight of hoof saved me. I snatched them out of the air and onto my person before the smoke could clear. 

“You are addressing the Great and Powerful Trixie!” I declared, with a dramatic rear. Raz might have noticed how rushed my introduction was, but it went over the heads of the thugs. I dropped to the ground and lifted my nose high. “And she would be quite glad of breakfast. Lead on, sirs.” 

They shared a confused look, but began to lead us from the room. Leaving me to try to figure out how I’d managed to breeze through one of my most difficult spells. I sensed I would not like the answer. 





Breakfast was served in the mansion’s large dining room, and it possessed less cheer and welcome than a Canterlot garden party. A long table down the centre of the room groaned under the weight of food, but the ponies sitting at the table did not dare touch it. Far more ponies were stood along the walls, clustered in little knots and glaring across the table at each other with naked suspicion. There was a harsh divide between two groups, thestrals giving a wide berth to the more mundane ponies. I didn’t blame them; those ponies were the worst kind of Riverside thugs. It seemed, overnight, Scepter had called for reinforcements. The kingpin sat between the two groups at the head of the table, bridging the gap. 

“Ah, if it isn’t our erstwhile guest!” Scepter exclaimed, rising from his chair as I stepped into the room. He looked like a pony run ragged. His eyes were wide, red rimmed and wild, his blond mane was all over the place and his smile was just too wide and showed far too many teeth to be reassuring. 

I paused a moment at the threshold, as all eyes in the room turned to face me. Some suspicious, some bowed, others openly hostile. I tried to reassure myself that it was just another stage, just another role to play. They wanted the Nightmare, or at least the thestrals did, and I could deliver them the Mad and Megalomaniacal Trixie if they so wished. 

“And if it isn’t our most gracious of hosts,” I said, striding to the table. A seat sat open at Scepter’s right hoof and I didn’t fail to note the significance. With a glare I forced the oily looking earth pony a place down out of his seat to make space for Razzle. Razzle did not look particularly pleased to have so many ponies watching us, but he played the role of a loyal follower and sat without protest. 

“Trixie must admit she wasn’t expecting quite as large a celebration.” I cast an eye across the gathered crowd. I’d seen wakes with more cheer, but ignored them and plucked an apple from the table. “But it seems fitting, even if things did not go quite to plan last night.” 

Scepter stiffened as I crunched down on the apple. “What do you mean?” he said, his voice unnaturally still. 

“Well, Trixie did think things went a little off script. She did not expect to lock horns with the physical incarnation of Darkness and Nightmares during a ‘healing ritual’.” I gave a flippant wave of my hoof. “Still, it seems we came out of the ordeal with at least some measure of success–” The vacant stare of the dead stallion, as he lay cooling on the flagstones, flashed before my eyes, and I fought back a shudder. “–regardless of the cost.” 

I tried not to think about the colt murdered by the Nightmare’s whim, or what the thestrals might have done with the mare driven mad. Behind me, the sunlight streamed through the windows and the table before me bowed with food. I focused on those, rather than dwell on that dark chamber. It was easier said than done, and I set the apple down, hardly touched. 

“And you were successful?” The thestral sat opposite was the grizzled stallion from the previous night. He was no less imposing in the full sun, though perhaps it highlighted the lines of grey in his mane. 

“Well mister...” I trailed off, waiting for him to reply. 

“Paterfamilias Blade. You can call me Nightblade, however.” 

I smiled. “And you can call me The Great and Powerful Trixie,” I declared, with my trademark trill. 

He shot me a flat look. “I can. I won’t. Tell me, is it true, have you accepted our Mistress into your heart?” 

“Head, not heart,” I found myself saying. I blinked, frowning, as every thestral’s gaze snapped to me. Why did I say that? 

“But yes,” my mouth continued, unheeding of the rest of my body. “Well done my faithful Blade.” Blade puffed out his chest, his eyes shining. “It is early for celebrations, though, keep a careful watch on my host.” 

I slammed my hooves over my muzzle, but too late. I worked my mouth in silence for a moment before screaming, “Trixie demands to know what in the name of the rutting goddesses that was!” 

Blade’s look went flat. “Show some respect, unicorn. That was the voice of the last true God.” 

I drew a shaky breath. “Yes, right, of course.” I shook myself, glad for the cloak as the chill of that dark room returned in force. I could panic later, when my every move was not under scrutiny by a hostile audience. “Well, Nightblade. Trixie thinks that proves her point. She has been chosen by your... Goddess.” 

Scepter was glaring daggers at me, spinning the ring on his horn with a hoof like a prayer wheel. 

I tried my best to ignore him. “So, Paterfamilias Blade,” I said, turning back to the thestral, “tell me... what is going to happen now?” 

He shrugged, plucking a pastry off of the table. “Well, in short, Trixie, we’re going to change the world.” 

I was fairly sure the Nightmare had used the word ‘end’, but didn’t mention it. “That is a–” I cast around for word other than ‘insane’. “–lofty goal, for certain. You’ll forgive Trixie if she asks just how you intend to do such a thing.” 

Scepter let out a derisive snort, but I ignored him. 

“Not at all,” Blade said, taking a delicate bite of his roll. “Tell me, Trixie, what do you know about the story of Nightmare Moon?” 

I shrugged, mimicking him and drawing my own pastry from the table. “No more than any foal does, less even, Trixie was hardly in any position go hunting for candy or trade scary stories as a child.” To emphasise my point I devoured the chocolate roll in two swift bites. “They say that Princess Luna’s spirit would roam Equestria on the day when the chains keeping her bound to the moon were at their weakest. Correct?” 

“Not quite,” Scepter corrected. “They said that Nightmare Moon would roam Equestria, an important distinction.” 

“A minor point,” I said, dismissively and cut a thick slice of bread. “They were one and the same, were they not?” Stony silence met me, and I felt the sudden weight of a dozen angry looks. “Ah... they were not then.” 

“No,” Blade said, as if a foal had just suggested the sun rose on its own. “Did you never wonder why Luna, the lesser alicorn, could match her sister and all Equestria just by changing her name? The truth—that the sisters worked so hard to keep hidden—is that she called on an ancient power. She called upon the last true Goddess of Equestria, The Nightmare.” 

I waved my hoof for him to continue, as I began to assemble a sandwich.

Blade furrowed his brow. “Do you have any idea how old the tradition of Nightmare Night is?” 

“A thousand years, or thereabouts, Trixie would guess. She takes it you’re about to tell me the true history.” I failed to keep the scepticism from my voice. 

“You would do well to show a little more credulity, host,” Scepter snapped. I just shrugged and continued to pile cheese and lettuce into my sandwich. 

“Indeed,” Blade said, turning back to me. “Offerings to the Nightmare go back millennia, to before the time of Discord, some say to before the land was even called Equestria. Ponies have always feared the dark, Trixie, and the monsters both within and without. Once they laid offerings of blood and treasure at our Mistress’ hooves, now it is candy, but both rituals are to allay the spirit of our Mistress. To beg for another day of pitiful life.” 

Complete, the sandwich was bigger than my head. “And did it work?” 

Blade just smiled, showing the full length of his fangs. “Of course not. The Nightmare is a god, she does not care for candy nor treasure. She aims to change the world.” 

“Yet, she’s not done anything but a fairly half hearted coup,” I pointed out.

Raz jabbed me hard in the ribs, but too late. The already cool atmosphere went icy in an instant, as every thestral stiffened. Scepter’s ilk followed suit a moment later, reacting to the sudden tension rather than my actual words. 

If looks could kill, Blade would have torn me to shreds in an instant. The glare lasted just a fraction of a second, though, then he broke out into a deep belly laugh. “Oh, I guess I walked into that one,” he said, with a forced chortle. The razor sharp tension began to dissipate, slowly. “You see, Trixie, the Nightmare has faced the Elements of so called Harmony many times before. Much of her power is still locked away behind seals that date to the very dawn of the world as the result of those great battles. Even for all the power of last night’s ritual, even with Nightmare’s Tome in our hooves, we were barely able to forge a single link with that prison.”

My ears flicked up. “Tome?” I echoed. “What Tome?” 

“Are you sure this is a wise topic?” Scepter said, still spinning his ring. 

Blade fixed him with a flat look. “The Nightmare selected her as host, if we are to proceed, she must have at least some knowledge.” 

I took another nervous bite of my sandwich. The little tick in the corner of Scepter’s eye was not encouraging. I could see him preparing for a killing blow. 

“I simply think we’re being a little hasty with a mare who has such strong ties to Celestia,” he said, with an airy smile. 

My eyes narrowed. “That is very dangerous ground,” I said, my tone low and venomous. 

“Indeed,” he agreed. “But this is a very dangerous enterprise. We are plotting treason against Celestia’s corrupted court after all. Police watch our every move, a presence that has only intensified since Trixie’s little visit to the local leadhooves.” 

“Trixie was attacked,” I pointed out. 

Scepter shrugged. “Indeed. Very convenient for you, joining a long string of very convenient events.” 

“Scepter,” Blade cut in. “You already vouched for her. Are you really changing your mind now?” 

“I agreed she should stand in the circle,” Scepter corrected, his breezy tone never slipping. “But acting as the Nightmare’s host is quite a different matter. Tell me, Great and Powerful Trixie, how long was it that you spent in Celestia’s Palace?” 

Ah. I knew that would come back to bite me. Ignoring Raz’s incredulous stare, I straightened the hem of my cloak. “Three months,” I said. There was no point lying, Scepter would not bring it up without evidence. 

Scepter's grin was that of a cat upon finding the birdcage unguarded. “Indeed, strange that. There are lesser nobles who would kill for that level of access to royalty.” 

Unfettered power began to flow around my horn as I glowered at him. “Those lesser nobles could have left,” I observed, trying and failing to clamp down on the rising tide of rage. “Trixie could not.” 

“So you say.” Scepter lifted a cup of grape juice from the table and took a delicate sip. “Of course, we do just have your word on that. It seems very convenient that you arrived on our doorstep, and on the eve of our ritual, after spending so long in Celestia’s presence.” 

“Trixie would like to remind you, that she tried to refuse your generous offer to join,” I growled, through clenched teeth. My magic was building up fast, casting a red glow across the gathered ponies. 

“Yet somehow you were the one selected by the Nightmare. Interesting term you used, Trixie. Justice, I think you said you were after. Justice on behalf of who, I wonder.” 

My voice was colder than a windingo’s heart. “What are you suggesting?” 

“I’m just curious who it is that holds your reins.” 

“ENOUGH!” I roared, slamming a hoof down on the table. Power arced through my hooves, and with a titanic boom the table split across the breadth. Plates and glasses exploded into powder from the sheer force, and whole third of the table collapsed with a drawn out clatter of falling crockery. For a moment there was utter bedlam as the assembled ponies scrambled to get away. 

“Trixie is nopony’s stooge!” I roared, rising to my hooves. I put my foot through a melon, but nopony seemed to notice. “Especially not Celestia’s. Do you perhaps think Trixie is some lickspittle foal who simpers in the sun-god’s shadow? Well, Trixies thinks you have mistaken her for Twilight Sparkle. Trixie is her own mare, beholden to nopony, especially not you!” 

The only sound in the dining room was the steady drip of fruit juice. 

Scepter smiled, sipping his drink. “So, you’re either an enemy agent, or a rogue one. Interesting.” 

It occurred to me then, just how foolish declaring my independence was when still caught in the manticore’s den. I swallowed the lump in my throat and bit down the angry retort, the flow of magic to my horn stilling at last. Glancing around I caught Blade’s eye. The grizzled thestral’s look was flat and guarded. 

“I think we should leave things here for the morning,” he said, after a moment. With a single flap of his wings he leapt into the air and hovered above the devastation. “We’ve done something remarkable here, my ponies,” Blade declared. “In the last six months we’ve achieved more than in the last six centuries, but we should remain wary. We can’t let petty jealousy–” He fixed Scepter with a glare. “–nor personal pride–” He tuned the evil eye on me. “–get in the way of our purpose. We are all here to serve the Nightmare. Let’s not fall to petty squabbling before we’ve fought the first battle. Agreed?” 

Nopony said a word, Scepter began to spin his ring again, his glare murderous. I matched it. 

“Agreed,” Scepter and I said in unison. 





“So, that could have gone better,” Raz observed. He and I made our way through the spartan halls of Scepter’s mansion with Astral at our heels as our guide/bodyguard/jailer. “Trix’, you really need to learn to shut your mouth once in awhile.” 

“Oh, shut up, Raz,” I grumbled. “I didn’t see you leaping to my rescue.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Trix’, you broke a table with your bare hoof, what in tartarus’ name was I supposed to do to stop you? Goddesses, you were already doing your damned ‘Wicked Warlock of the West’ act before this whole...” he petered out, shooting a sidelong glance at Astral.

“I think Trixie was perfectly reasonable,” Astral protested. In unison, Raz did a double take. “Really, if Scepter had insinuated my father was a follower of Celestia then Dad would have torn him to shreds on the spot. A broken table is the least he could have expected.” 

“He was, very obviously, trying to get a rise out of you, Trix’,” Raz added. 

“I know, I know,” I grumbled, rubbing a hoof against my temple. “Argh. How is it Trixie can never do anything to fix the damn messes she keeps finding herself in?” 

“How is it that you’re still speaking in third person?” Raz asked, rolling his eyes. “Actually, scratch that. If you’re going to answer any question, how in the hay did you end up a guest at the palace?” 

Astral stopped dead, his ears flicking bolt upright. “I’d like to know the answer to that one too,” he murmured, glancing up and down the corridor. “There’s nopony around, if you want to tell us.” 

“It’s not important,” I said, far too hastily. 

“Trix’, you just stamped a table to pieces because somepony mentioned it,” Raz said, rolling his eyes at me. “That seems pretty important to me.” 

My glare could have set fires at ten paces. Raz matched it without blinking. “Fine!” I barked, throwing up my forehooves. “I was a prisoner, okay? I was a prisoner because I was filled with so much dark magic I couldn’t tell left from right, let alone good from evil.” 

“What? But, how?” Raz stammered, his jaw dropping. “Why, Trixie, you’ve never touched dark magic before, what in Equestria possessed you?” 

“Beyond a Goddess of elemental darkness?” I asked in a deadpan. I tossed my head and began to walk away. “Raz, I tried to beat Twilight Sparkle at magic. I tried to beat the future Princess of Magic at her own game. I put everything into that victory and lost it all. Did you think I escaped unscathed?” 

“I didn’t know you’d fought her at all!” Raz exclaimed, hurrying to keep up. “When did this happen, during the Ursa Minor? I thought that was just a mistake that got out of hand.” 

A long sigh escaped me. “No Razzle. I went back. I almost won, too. I had the alicorn amulet in my grasp and the whole town keeling at my feet, worshiping as me as the God that they always should have. I–” I stopped myself dead and took a deep, shuddering breath. Slowly, the red glow of my tainted magic began to fade away to nothing. “–I messed up... I should have known I could never stand up to Celestia’s pampered little hoofmaiden.” 

I should have won. It was as simple as that. If life were fair, if there was some impartial god handing out the rewards of life then I would have crushed Twilight Sparkle. The gods, however, played favorites and I never had any hope of standing up against their chosen child. 

“Heh, well I think the Nightmare might have a thing to say about that,” Astral said, with a smirk completely at odds with my mood. “However, that does rather mean we have to solve the whole, massive argument between my Dad and Scepter.” His smile broadened as an idea seemed to strike him. “Actually, might the Nightmare have some idea of the best way to solve this?” He looked at me expectantly. 

I shuddered, then waited a beat for the spirit to chime in. “Thankfully no,” I said, with a sigh of relief. It was very disconcerting for something else to use your voice. “Trixie, however, has a plan.” 

“Oh goddesses, we’re doomed,” Raz muttered under his breath. 

“You’ll like this one,” I said, smirking. “It involves stealing something. Astral, where might we find Nightmare’s Tome?” 

He frowned, fidgeting his wings. “Why do you want that?” 

“We need an edge and, while I hate to admit it, sometimes the answer is in a book.” 

“Umm...” Astral pursed his lips, shuffling his fore hooves.

“Please,” I said, taking my hat from my head and holding it against my chest, dredging up the last of my charm. “Help me, Astral. I can’t do this without you.” 

His scowl deepened. “Urgh. I just can’t say no to a pretty face. Come on, it’ll be in Scepter’s office.” 

Our passage through the mansion was swift and almost silent. Astral, it seemed, possessed far more than his tribe's measure of stealth. The few thestrals and gang-ponies we did encounter were easy enough to bluster our way past. 

Astral pressed his ear against Scepter’s door. “Okay, coast is clear,” he announced, after a moment’s hesitation. “I can smell the magic on the door, though.” 

I nodded, stepping forwards and kindling my horn. There was a nasty spell woven into the wood, designed to either crack some nosy idiot’s horn or crack their skull. One spark of magic in just the right spot disarmed the trap. 

“Keep an eye out,” I told the pair. “And if anypony tries to get in, stop them or give three knocks. Got that?” They nodded and I cracked the door open. I slipped through the gap like a prowling cat, low to the ground and moving with utmost care and grace. 

Scepter’s office was no different from the the last time. Artifacts and antiques still lined the walls, and the barely constrained menace of those forgotten relics made the base of my horn itch. I cast my eyes across the room, searching for a tome amidst the treasure. I spent a moment examining the bookshelf for any books that were either jet black or dripping blood, figuring the tome would be just as tacky as its name. The only one I found, however, detailed the various prophecies one could glean from the entrails of a pony. So, disgusting, useless and nonsense. 

Picking my way around the artifacts, I made my way to the desk, feeling around with my magic for any more traps. A spell hung like a cobweb around the old oak, but it lacked charge so I sat myself in Scepter’s chair, frowning. Where would a tome be?

“Hello Trixie,” Scepter said, stepping out of the shadows. 

I screamed, tried to leap out of the chair, tripped and ended up in a heap on the floor. 

He sighed, shaking his head. “Do make yourself comfortable.” Wincing, he lifted a silvery amulet from his neck and made his way over to the drinks cabinet. Without the spell I could sense the underlying invisibility charm laid into the metal. It was a trinket Razzle would have given his hind leg for. “I take it you’re here for Nightmare’s Tome.” 

I pulled myself up onto my hooves, and dusted off my cape. “That seems like a bold assumption.” 

Scepter rolled his eyes as he poured himself a drink. “Please, Trixie. You’re as smart as you are subtle.” He shot me a sudden glare. “And don’t take that as a compliment. I knew the moment Paterfamilias Blade let slip about Nightmare’s Tome you’d try and set your hooves on it.”  

“It seemed a sensible choice, given the circumstances,” I pointed out, settling back into his chair. “If Trixie is to play the role of host, then she needs every advantage she can get.” 

“Indeed.” Scepter sipped his bourbon. “However, that ‘host’ business is very much the point we need to discuss.” 

My eyes narrowed. Where was he going with this? “The Nightmare chose Trixie,” I pointed out, keeping my response neutral. “Trixie did not go into that room seeking The Nightmare, but The Nightmare still chose her.” 

“You say that like I should care.” Scepter’s voice was icy. “Trixie, let us not dance around the point. Over the past two years I have burned through a considerable amount of money, time and lives in the pursuit of a single goal. That goal was not to let some street performer come in and steal my prize at the eleventh hour. I was to be the host. ” 

“Perhaps.” I gave an impetuous toss of my head. “Or perhaps you were to be another body on the floor. Did you think, perhaps, Trixie saved your life?” 

He didn’t even acknowledge that with an answer. “I am going to be the brutally honest. There is no doubt in anypony’s mind that you should not have been in that room, nor become Nightmare’s host. So we come, once again, to a matter of price.” He fixed me with a steely gaze. “What price are you willing to pay for power, oh Great and Powerful Trixie?” 

“I...” I began, but trailed away. I had no answer. Once the answer had been easy, but I was no longer so sure.

“You have until sundown to decide,” Scepter said, draining his drink in one gulp. “I suggest you choose wisely. There have already been three dead for the sake of Nightmare’s crown, I do not care how many more there need to be.” 

His horn flared and the office door swung open. He strode through, ignoring both Astral and Raz who stared at him in opened mouth horror. “Oh.” He paused, casting a contemptuous look over his shoulder at me. “And Nightmare’s Tome is in the bottom draw of my desk. I don’t advise taking it.” 

Scepter walked away without another world. 

Astral and Raz hurried inside. 

“Rutting tartarus, he was in here!” Razzle exclaimed, bucking the door closed. “How?” He rounded on Astral. “You said it was empty!” 

“I didn’t hear a thing,” Astral protested. “It was completely silent. Nopony was here.” 

“He had an invisibility amulet,” I explained, my voice wooden and dull. “He was less than pleased to find me here.” 

“I think ‘less than pleased’ sums up his whole damn life,” Raz grumbled, running a hoof down his face. “Goddesses, he was already pissed off with us, what’s he going to do now?” 

“Trixie has a good idea,” I said, making my way over to the drinks cabinet. “He’s going to have her killed.”