Target: Manehattan

In the hotel lobby, Rarity the unicorn paused to check her eyelashes in the floor-length mirror.

Oh, the parka with the faux-fur hood shone like the rainbow scales of an arctic salmon; she didn’t have to worry about how that looked. The padded hoof boots and ornamental polo wraps on her legs were just the right shade of aqua; ideal as understated accents for the whole. Not to mention the white beads braided into her purple pigtail ran in a single snakelike curve down her left side, catching the light just so.

No, it was those darn false eyelashes slipping off. They were going to make or break the ensemble. Everything had to be perfect.

“Will you stop fussin’, already?” Applejack chuckled and strode past her to the exit. “You look fine. All geared up to be the star of the show.”

“D’you reckon we’ll see Sapphire Shores there?” Apple Bloom hurried after her sister. “Or Calamity Mane? Coloratura! You reckon we might see Coloratura!?”

Still fiddling delicately around her eyelid, Rarity sighed quietly. Her inner radar, which had bleeped timidly at the errant eyelash, began screaming and wailing at the haybale-in-a-hurricane look of Applejack’s – for want of a better word – “ponytail”. It wasn’t as if the mare had no idea how to style herself up. She just had this strange idea that there was no need to.

“Manehattan,” she said coolly, “is a high-class location at the best of times, Applejack, and I like to think I’ve been patient with you so far –”

“Here’s the keys.” Applejack tossed them over to the reception desk, earning a disapproving eyebrow from the receptionist behind it. “You got a lovely place here, you know? A li’l’ old next to the rest of the city, maybe, but that’s why Ah like it.”

“Please excuse her manners.” Rarity threw a chuckle and a polite smile to the receptionist’s reflection, ignoring the way Apple Bloom kept running around in circles yelling random names. “She only meant that this establishment has a certain antique charm and plenty of historical-traditional cachet.”

“What she said,” Applejack said. The receptionist smiled and nodded. “Takes me back to when Ah was a filly. Mah Aunt and Uncle Orange lived in a place that looked like this one. Fancy pants bedroom an’ everythin’.”

After a banging of boards down the stairs, Sweetie Belle traipsed into the lobby. She was wearing a miniature version of Rarity’s Frozen North ensemble, and judging by her gloomy frown, it wasn’t her own idea.

“I don’t want to get up on the stage,” she murmured to the floor. “Not with all those ponies looking at me.”

“You won’t be on for long,” Rarity said, trying to sound soothing. “Don’t worry, Sweetie Belle. We’ll all be there with you, and, ahaha, it’s not as if I’m asking you to sing a solo, n’est pas?”

Sweetie Belle threw the hood back and groaned. “Can’t I at least take this thing off? I’m boiling. And Apple Bloom and Applejack aren’t wearing theirs.”

“It’s tradition,” said Apple Bloom. “Earth ponies din’t wear ‘em, ‘cause in the snow we’re tough as teak! Ain’t that right, AJ?”

“Eeyup,” said Applejack.

“But unicorns know magic.” Sweetie Belle shook her head, accidentally whacking herself with her own braided ponytail. “So why can’t I use a snuggle-cuddle spell to keep me warm?”

“Because,” said Rarity, finally turning away from the mirror, “it hadn’t been invented yet, that’s why. Come, come, Sweetie Belle! This is a historical occasion! Not only has the Ancient Crystal Idol been found after thousands of years –”

“If I keep this stuff on for the show,” said Sweetie Belle, a smile blooming on her face, “then can I see Coloratura in her hotel suite?”

Rarity’s face went whiter than usual. Coloratura was a tough one to approach at the best of times, and with so many more guards around and the new lockdowns these days…

“Oh shucks, Sweetie Belle. Ah can get you in there,” said Applejack hurriedly. She glanced sidelong at Rarity. “She’s mah friend. Don’t worry about it. But you gotta wear the suit for us, OK? Sweetie Belle?”

“Hmm…” For the look of the thing, Sweetie Belle tapped her chin thoughtfully before saying, “OK.”

“Can Ah see her too?”

“Of course you can, Apple Bloom. Ah wouldn’t leave you out.”

And she’s going to sneak off and meet the Oranges before the show starts, Rarity thought gloomily. She doesn’t wear the clothes I spend all night making for her – OK OK, without consulting her first, but she refuses to wear anything now – and she looks like a bird’s nest with a hat on top, and she talks… well… others would say she talks like a hick who just got into the city. So how can she be so relaxed about it?

She tried rearranging her eyelashes again, and squeaked at a poke in the eye.

Both of the hotel doors swung open to let Sweetie Belle chase Apple Bloom out into the snow. Applejack shut the doors on their giggles and shuffled over to her.

“You’re not gettin’ stage fright, are ya?” she said with a grin.

“Stage fright? Moi?” she spluttered. “Please, Applejack. Even if I’d been born with stage fright, I would’ve been on enough catwalks since to have had it knocked clean out of me.”

“Well. Good.” Applejack peeked into the mirror and adjusted the tilt of her hat with a flick of her head. “Ah ain’t got no stage fright neither. None of us got nothin’ to worry about.”

Outside, they heard the clanking of armour and the thunder of hoofsteps. Their sisters’ giggles died down until it passed.

“Uh,” said Applejack. “Maybe Ah ought to go out an’ check on ‘em.” She shifted towards the front doors. “Ah mean, it ain’t like the old Manehattan. You could leave foals to play out in the streets for hours back then.”

“I’m sure we have nothing to worry about, Applejack. We’re going to be among the highest of the high. There’ll be Royal Guards everywhere, even without the, uh… unfortunate incidents.”

“Sure! Sure.” Despite herself, a twitch escaped from Applejack’s stoic face.

She’s thinking about Babs Seed, Rarity thought. The poor dear. I know you think you’re, uh, ‘tough as teak’, Applejack, but it’s not as if you’ll get snapped up by showing a little emotion.

Ah well. Rarity breathed in deeply and swelled so suddenly she almost rose off the red carpet.

“Let’s not spoil the mood, shall we? We have a noble mission!” With a toss of her head, Rarity powered up her horn and made the front doors burst open. “Magnificence waits for no mare. The show will go on, come what may, and I’d like to see the force that could stop it.”

The branches slumped with snow in the park. They left Bridle Path and crossed the grassy shadows of the pine trees before reaching the edge of the Great Lawn. Despite the thick padding of her parka and polo wraps, Rarity winced as she crunched after the heads of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle, who were racing each other.

“I d-don’t kn-know how you can st-stand this c-c-c-cold,” she stammered to Applejack, who seemed to be cruising over the thick snow on her torso.

Applejack shrugged. “Eh. Ah try not to think about it. Ooh, mind yerself.”

As they struggled on through the snow, a shimmering wall of pink flared into existence. They passed through, Rarity shuddering when the magical sparks slid over her exposed skin, Applejack merely wincing at the barrier splashing into her face. Once their tails were through, the domed shield over the park faded out of sight.

Up ahead, passing the two sisters leaping over the snow at each other, two pegasi were pulling a sled their way. The unicorn on the sled sat back and waved at them, occasionally stopping to shout “Mush!” at the pegasi.

“Ha! Ah mighta guessed. Trenderhoof,” said Applejack with a smirk, and she nudged Rarity’s shoulder. “Looks like your special somepony’s here.”

“D-Don’t start, you!” Rarity suddenly didn’t feel so cold anymore. Her parka was much too itchy.

“Well, well, my old friends!” Trenderhoof whistled, and the two pegasi stopped and hovered so the sled was right in front of Applejack. “What are you thinking, wandering about like that? Come, you must have my sled! It would be unbecoming of me to let such radiant beauty freeze over.”

Rarity peered at the tiny, one-pony sled. If she was warm before, then now she was melting the snow all around her. “Wh-What? All th-three of us?”

Trenderhoof gave an indulgent smile and hopped into the snow, only to squeal at the shock. When they both moved towards him, however, he waved them off, trying not to weep.

“F-Fear not! I am a tr-traveller,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’m used to all k-kinds of exotic – even unpl-pl-pleasant – climes, c-cold not ex-exempted. Crease not your tender brows for me.”

Applejack shrugged and hopped aboard, but Rarity winced and stepped onto the sled in as ladylike a manner as possible. Even through the padding, she was uncomfortably aware of the earth mare’s body pressing against her side.

While the pegasi flapped and their younger sisters chased the sled and Trenderhoof stumbled through the snow alongside, Rarity looked across the Great Lawn and sighed. Fringed by the icing-white covering of the trees, the stage loomed almost as highly as the distant spire of Beldam Castle. Teams of earth ponies strapped on ploughs and cleared away piles of white, exposing the green grass below. Several caravans marked the perimeter, and a dozen or so ponies gathered on the ring path that was the Great Lawn Oval.

“Bad business, I’m afraid,” said Trenderhoof. “Joy Denim was scheduled to meet with us onstage for rehearsals, but she… well…”

Ice slid down Rarity’s spine. Joy Denim too? No! Not here, not now! She can’t have! They told legends about how good her bodyguards were, even in a riot.

“No way,” said Applejack. “Don’t tell me she disappeared too?”

“It was a shock to all of us.” Trenderhoof squinted and peered at the stage. “Her of all ponies! Thank goodness we managed to find a replacement. Miss Polomare is running a bit late, though.”

Rarity groaned into her fur-lined hood. Suri Polomare, it had to be. Of course Suri would still be around. The mare was as sticky as chewing gum, and a much worse thing to have stuck in one’s hair.

Not that types like Suri were rare in the fashion industry. There was always a frustrated newcomer or waning star desperate enough to take a little too much inspiration from someone else’s wardrobe. Suri didn’t need an excuse, though. Rarity remembered her from Fashion Week; the irritating little laugh, that patronizing smile, the cheerful way she’d patiently explain why robbing someone else’s fabric was not only OK, but practically a lifesaving move in the big, cruel city.

No one was on the stage, though, which was just as well: Rarity had half a mind to jump off the sled and shout at the stupid, grinning, conniving little backstabber. Suri ought to have ended up penniless in the gutter. But something told her that bloodsuckers like Suri probably didn’t stay down for long. It would be like trying to kill a vampire.

Only when the pegasi stopped and the sled skidded to a halt did she realize they were on the exposed grass. Applejack hopped down.

“Very… crystally,” she said.

“Eloquently put, my dear Applejack!” Trenderhoof extended a hoof to guide Rarity down, but she shook her head. “It’s all part of the themed exhibition. Princess Cadence herself will be attending.”

“Magnificent!” For the moment, Rarity sidelined her boiling rage and the connoisseur came to the fore. “Ah, I know that pattern in the mural! Gemstone symbolism at its most spectacular.”

“That was my idea. I once visited the royal ballrooms of the Crystal Palace in the Frozen North, and I’ve been waiting for years for an opportunity like this.”

Ponies crisscrossed the lawn around them. A curtain fluttered at the back of the stage, and one of the Royal Guards poked his head out.

“Sir,” he rumbled, nodding respectfully. “There’s a few mares back here who wanna get your autograph. Want me to clear ‘em out?”

Despite herself, Rarity bristled. “A few mares?”

“Absolutely not! I respect all my admirers and fans.” Trenderhoof leaped onto the stage and turned around. “Coco will be waiting for you in the silver trailer on the left. I’ll let the organizers know you’ve arrived. Must dash. Ta ta for now!”

Rarity fought against the red mist descending over her face. Come on, come on, that was long ago. You’ve grown up since. Let it go.

“Boy howdy,” said Applejack with a grin. “Ah could fry an egg on your face.”

“Anyone would be annoyed if they found out something as horrible as Suri Polomare was involved in this wonderful show!” Nevertheless, Rarity didn’t quite meet her eye.

“You still got feelings for ‘im, aincha?”

“Sometimes, Applejack,” she replied calmly, “one could hear from you a little less honesty and a little more courtesy.”

“Sorry. Ah din’t mean nothin’ by it.” And because Applejack was scarcely acquainted with sayings like “don’t put your hoof in it”, she added, “You’re gonna have to do somethin’ about that blushin’ whenever he’s around, though.”

“Applejack, please!”

“Well, some might think you were a bit hot in that getup.”

Rarity’s inner shock-meter actually exploded at this point. “Applejack, do you mind?”

“Sorry. Sorry. Shuttin’ up now. You cook yourself in whatever clothes you like. That’s all Ah’m sayin’.”

Rarity winced at an itch developing under her pit. Next to her, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle clambered up onto the stage and gawped at the decorations.

“I think it’s about time I went to see Coco. It’s been a while, and the poor dear’s probably worried sick.” Rarity began striding around the stage to the nearest caravan, wincing at the numbness creeping through her legs. “Applejack, didn’t you have a fundraiser stall to set up, too?”

“Sure. Ah’ll keep an eye on these two as well. We won’t go far.”

Overhead, the domed shield flared and then vanished into the grey skies again.

On the bank of the Tortoise Pond, Coco Pommel adjusted her sailor collar. She blinked at her shivering reflection in the frozen water.

Several yards behind her, the other mares crowded around the back of the stage and squealed and screamed. Part of her suddenly wanted to be far, far away, but the rest of her cuffed it round the head.

No. Stop thinking like that. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of.

Smiling, she turned around. Her nose brushed against the bulrushes rimming the pond, and she couldn’t stop the sneeze bursting out of her nostrils.

“Oh dear.” Coco rubbed her nose, but knew immediately it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, she ambled up the hill to where the Royal Guard was waving some of the mares away, thinning the crowd.

Her saddlebags chafed against her sides. At the back of the crowd, she paused to rummage around inside one – sneezing as she did so – and rooted out a photograph and a ballpoint pen. She placed both in her mouth as delicately as she could while she replaced the bag, forcing back a nostril-ripping sneeze out of sheer embarrassed fear.

Some of the mares had badges pinned onto their saddle blankets and anoraks. The nearest mare – a unicorn with earmuffs wedged tightly over her head – turned slightly to get a better look, and the badge showed a tiny head like the profile of a coin. It had a laurel wreath around its scalp.

“Ancient Crystal Idol badges,” she breathed. “I knew I forgot something.”

The unicorn gave a start and peered over her shoulder.

“You mean this thing?” she said. “Here, you can have it if you want.”

Coco drew back from the levitating badge. “Oh no, I couldn’t. I’ll buy my own later.”

“Buy? Hahaha! You don't have to buy them. They were giving them away. Don’t worry about it! I needed to get some more for my friends anyway. Here, allow me.”

Reluctantly, Coco raised her chin so the unicorn could pin it onto her collar. At times like this, she had the unaccountable but strong feeling that she’d done something horribly wrong. Nevertheless, she smiled and nodded her head in thanks.

The next few mares broke away, enabling Trenderhoof to step forwards. “And what a pleasure to meet you too on this fine winter’s day, Miss…?”

“Minuette,” said the unicorn while he gave her his autograph. “It is so amazing to actually meet you, Mister Trenderhoof! I’ve read all your travel books! I loved Shining the Light on the Crystal Empire. It inspired me to go up there on the train and see everything for myself.”

“Wonderful! Exactly what I like to hear!”

“The others aren’t going to believe this when I tell them! Do you mind if I get a snap?” She held up a camera and waggled her eyebrows.

Coco ignored the flashes and found her gaze drifting out beyond the Great Lawn Oval, beyond the Tortoise Pond, and to the grey silhouette of the Beldam Castle. Even when the magical barrier flared with another pony’s passing through the shield wall, she couldn’t help but feel uneasy and unsafe. There was something about the castle that made her feel… watched.

“And who’s your lovely friend here?” said Trenderhoof.

Coco snapped back into the present to find him giving her a knowing wink. “P-Pardon?” she said.

“Oh, she’s Coco Pommel. Rarity told me all about her when I was visiting my friends in Ponyville.” Minuette gasped and took pictures of the landscape beyond. “The park is so tranquil this time of year. It’s like a picture postcard!”

“You,” said Coco, trying to keep up and blushing when she did so, “knew who I was? From Rarity?”

“Yeah! I’m from Ponyville. Well, not technically, of course, I just visit there, I’m actually from Canterlot, but I might as well live there! I spend more time in the country than in the city.”

To Coco’s alarm, Trenderhoof beamed and placed a forelimb over each of their shoulders. “You know, I think we’re going to get along swimmingly. Why don’t we enjoy the beautiful desolation of Manehattan in winter? It's absolutely stunning.”

With a flick of his wrist, he dismissed the Royal Guard. Coco whimpered as he steered her and Minuette down to the bulrushes, where they stood and where he finally let them go. As one, their eyes turned away from the winding shrubbery along the far bank, and up to the imposing spire.

In the dim grey mist that settled like snow through the air, Beldam Castle was pointy and jagged, a bit – or so Coco thought – like a crystal spike. As a filly, she’d latched onto the idea that it was haunted by the ghosts of long-dead kings. Since then, she’d learned it was just a folly – a decorative building that had no actual history behind it, kingly or otherwise – but she hadn’t quite shaken off the idea of long-dead eyes peeking back from those dark arched windows.

“It was said,” murmured Trenderhoof in an unnecessarily dramatic voice, “that at its peak the Great Crystal Empire once extended all the way to the other side of the world. It was certainly far enough down to build outposts across what we now call Equestria. They even built one here, on the future site of Manehattan.”

Looking at that castle behind the trees and the pond, Coco believed him instantly.

“Ooh, that’s a creepy thought,” Minuette said cheerfully. “Can you imagine those long-dead emperors and empresses terrorizing the poor ponies? And on this very ground we’re standing on right now!”

“It’s a good thing the Crystal Empire’s a lot nicer now,” said Coco.

“Oh, the northern one is,” said Minuette. “I heard rumours of a southern empire. They say it carries on in the Great Crystal Empire’s place, biding its time, waiting for the perfect moment to seize the north again. Isn't that sweet?”

Trenderhoof chuckled. “Relax. It’s just a rumour. No expedition has ever discovered a southern empire. Besides, the northern one we know and love so well has suffered enough punishment. The likes of King Sombra were nothing but a wintry descent before the rise of a modern spring. Times have changed now.”

Coco peered down at her reflection in the ice, suppressing a sneeze that creased her snout. Punishment. The word slammed into her mind like a lead weight.

It didn’t matter, did it, if someone who’d done awful things turned over a new page? After all, so long as it didn’t – couldn’t – happen again, then there was no need for any actual punishment. Times change. That’s exactly right.

Still…

“What,” she said to Minuette, “did Rarity say about me exactly?”

“Lots of nice things! Believe me.” The unicorn snapped another shot of the castle.

And yet you haven’t offered to take my photograph.

“I used to be a fashion designer, you know,” said Coco, and then wondered why she’d said it. Am I showing off? Is he snubbing me? Or am I trying to reassure someone? Every single one seemed likely: the cocktail of emotions mixed and swirled above the burning pit of her stomach.

“Hmm.” Trenderhoof gave her a sidelong look that made her wish she hadn’t spoken. “I see. I’m sorry to hear you’re not continuing your fashion designs. They could have been the next best thing, and I should know. I've seen a few.”

I wanted to continue it. “I… needed something more secure. Rarity offered me a job at her Manehattan boutique.”

“Oh? What do you do there?”

Coco blushed and struggled not to sneeze. In spite of the winter chill permeating the air, she was burning up.

Fortunately, Minuette broke the silence: “Is Rarity here? I haven’t seen her since the train station.”

“Oh yes,” said Trenderhoof. “She’s in her caravan right now.”

“I, uh…” Coco didn’t make eye contact, but simply turned and strode away. “I have to go help her. Nice to meet you, Mister Trenderhoof! Bye, Minuette.”

Only once she was past the stage did she let her sneezing fit explode. Anything to stop herself from imagining the looks they’d be giving her retreating back.

Royal Guards patrolled around the perimeter of the Oval. Once more, the shield flared and then vanished.

“No, no, no!”

Rarity sighed as Photo Finish, fashion photographer of Equestria, paced in front of yet another confused model. It didn’t matter what dress they used or how many gemstones Rarity stuck on the things; nothing she did ever seemed to get anything other than another round of sniping.

“You cannot give them a cake that is baked in half!” Photo Finish batted the feathery headdress with a backhoof. “The Princess of ze Crystal Empire vill be here to honour the fashion show. Do you vant her to be rollink around on the floor laughink?”

“Miss Finish,” snapped Rarity, who was starting to wish she’d taken the darn parka off, “I will have you know I am good friends with Princess Cadence, and if she rolls around on the floor laughing at something, then you jolly well thank her for her good sense of humour!”

On the quiet, the model slipped a steaming mug off the dresser and slipped out the door for a quick drink.

“Zis is no laughink matter!” Photo Finish tapped the idol badge pinned to the front of her dress. “Zis show iz about all ze brave poniez who shtood up to ze Great Crystal Empire on zis most glorious day! Ve need to zink like zem: ze audacity, ze hopelessness, ze day of reckonink, ze triumph!”

“I know what we’re going for. It was my idea to begin with. Look: the crystalline armour plating, the pegasine imperial helmet headdress, the braccae and paludamentum –”

“What?”

Rarity threw her head back irritably. “The pants and the cape. It’s historically accurate and, more to the point, it is a bold retro reinvigoration of modern fashion sensibilities. Military dress has a long and distinguished history of reinvigorating fashions.”

“It iz a laughink shtock! I vill not permit it on zis show!”

“Then give me five minutes and I will try something else! Just because you don’t like my ideas, doesn’t mean I don’t know what I’m doing!”

“Very vell, so be it. But I varn you; if it does not impress the preliminary judges at rehearsal, zen it is not going any further. And now, ve go!”

Rarity slammed the door behind her and her stupid accent which was probably fake anyway, and replaced the orange-rimmed glasses on her snout. She levitated the list and flicked through the items.

Despite the ice crackling through her veins, her mind giggled at the buzz still ringing through it. Ponies had been admiring her dresses for so long that, in a strange way, it was actually a relief to find one criticizing her.

Where did I go wrong? She turned to the wardrobe, where fabulous ensembles of every description bulged and threatened to crack the woodwork. I was just a simple country dressmaker. I ran a haberdashery from my parents’ front yard just to save up enough for a shop of my own. I dreamed of marrying princes. I thought I’d have to spend my entire life selling stuff to my next-door neighbours before I could go somewhere like Canterlot and Manehattan.

Rarity sighed. There was still the old Carousel Boutique, of course, but now she had a third of her mind in Canterlot, and another third in Manehattan’s Saddle Row. Her own outlets – hers – in the most cosmopolitan cities on the planet!

And that nagging little voice in her head that said: Now what? You dreamed of castles and palaces, and now you’ve captured them. It didn’t matter if she opened more shops in more towns. After those two prize cities, that’d just be mopping up.

When Coco finally entered, Rarity was staring at her dresses. The unicorn barely twitched at the click as the door shut.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Coco.

“Believe me, you’re not missing much.” Rarity turned around, and her gaze flickered towards the badge on the saddlebag before the old smile, like a well-trained butler, jumped to her service. “It’s good to see you again, Coco.”

She ignored the sneeze.

“You’re looking well. I seem to be down one model, so would you be a dear and hold still for a moment?”

Rarity’s horn glowed. No one had any idea how much power she actually wielded, least of all Rarity herself, but when she focused, the magic came easily. Dresses, scissors, bags bulging with knitwear, measuring tapes, and Coco’s saddlebags rose into the air, swirling all around them. One dress drifted down to Coco, Rarity forced a flash of light, and the next moment her assistant stood in a cerulean pinafore dress over a cream blouse.

“Understated,” murmured Rarity aloud, “but with a definite balance between down-to-earth plainness and angelic class, and the colour scheme is just right for the occasion.”

Coco fidgeted and lowered her ears as though she herself was being described. “Um, Rarity? I was wondering if I might make a few costume suggestions?”

Another flash; the dress flowed among the swirling elements again. “Go on. I am listening.”

Perhaps something more modern, like a slip dress with lace trimmings? No… too conservative. Try… no, get rid of that bow. The pink is ghastly.

“Maybe,” she said when she sensed Coco had finished talking. “Just let me try a couple of ideas out first.”

A corner of Rarity’s psyche glared at her. What am I doing, hogging all the attention? I’ve got plenty of avenues to show off. Give the poor girl a chance.

Everything landed in a circular heap around them. Rarity sighed.

“I’m terribly sorry, Coco.” She sat down. “It’s just I’ve been a bit… unfocused, lately. Please, work ad libitem. This anniversary is your moment to shine too.”

“Oh, thank you Rarity! I promise I’ll make it up to you!”

“Nonsense. You have nothing to make up for.”

Coco held up a fragment of silk. “May I?”

Well, yes. That’s what “ad libitem” means. “Be my guest.”

Tiny hooves knocked on the door, and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle peered round the doorway.

“Oh, sorry.” Sweetie Belle made to shut the door again, but Rarity’s horn glowed and it stayed open. “We thought Applejack might be in here.”

“You’re not disturbing anything,” said Rarity hurriedly. Frowning, she added, “And why would you think that? She’s supposed to be watching you two.”

“We can take care of ourselves! We’re not babies!”

Sometimes, Rarity’s mind could work very fast. She groaned into a hoof. “Please, please, please don’t tell me you somehow gave her the slip.”

“Ah went to her stall afterwards” – And yes, I did notice you avoiding the question, Apple Bloom – “but she weren’t there. An’ she knows Ah’d head to some place where Ah knew she’d be if we wandered off. An’ we din’t leave the Oval neither!”

“Oh no.” Coco dropped the fabric she’d been holding up. “Not another pony! And today of all days.”

“Oh, don’t be such a drama queen,” said Rarity, who’d personally coronated herself dozens of times before now. “Applejack has some brains and plenty of common sense. I’m sure she’s perfectly fine. Show some faith in the poor girl.”

“We’d best make sure we know where she is, in any case,” insisted Sweetie Belle.

Rarity growled, but under the layers of irritation and dismissal, a faint spark of worry flickered. “If it’ll make you feel better, then let’s go find her. Sorry, Coco. I’ll be back to see what you come up with soon enough, because Applejack is going to be fine.”

On her way out, Rarity paused to check her pigtail in the mirror, and felt a little warmth of pride when she saw Coco leaping onto the nearest dresses.

“Excuse me,” said Applejack, “but have y’all seen two ponies? About mah height? Mare and a stallion? Go by the name o’ Orange?”

She shook her head sadly, because the unicorns shrugged and wandered towards the caravans. It wasn’t the fillies that bothered her: long summers keeping an eye on the “Cutie Mark Crusaders” had given her the almost psychic knowledge of where the two fillies would wander off to. Besides, they’d be safe enough inside the bubble with all these guards around – she passed a pair of them patrolling along the Oval – and both were smart enough to stick close to a trusted adult. Heck, she’d seen Coloratura and Coco Pommel among the near-hundred ponies now milling about, and they loved foals. There were enough eyes around to spot trouble.

Applejack stopped the next pair of ponies, but she barely got halfway through her question when they mouthed “no” and hurried along.

Not that she’d admit it to Rarity, but there was still that little filly inside her whose eyes sparkled at the skyscrapers of Manehattan. She was feeling the old dizziness creeping up on her, as though she was wandering through the city for the first time. And sometimes it was nice, just nice, to use her Manehattanite accent with someone who wouldn’t gape or laugh at her, or at least shuffle their hooves and cough.

As she walked along, a figure darted between the tree trunks on her left.

It had only been an instant, and a regular citizen would’ve missed it, or thought it was a trick of the shadows.

She knew about the recent kidnappings. Up until a week ago, the targets had usually been – and she hated even to think the term – “lower-class” unicorns, or wanderers whom no one would miss. Two days ago, the newspapers burst with stories of famous ponies disappearing from locked rooms and private safe houses. Rarity had wailed on that day, but the names meant nothing to Applejack.

Moving with surprising stealth, she pressed her back against the nearest trunk. Farmers dealt with unwelcome visitors every now and again, so she’d had plenty of practice. In any case, she’d spent a good chunk of her fillyhood sneaking past Granny Smith’s room for midnight snacks.

Barely ruffling the leaves, she half-crawled, half-slid under cover of the shrubs, wincing at the patches of snow where the canopy gave way to sky-exposed holes.

Someone scuffed the ground on the other side of the tree. Applejack pressed her back up against the trunk. Although her body was stiff, she allowed herself a small smirk. Now Ah gotcha.

No one moved for a few minutes. Whoever lurked behind the tree, they were probably waiting to ambush a passing pony.

To her relief, two patrolling guards were coming her way. As soon as they saw her, she raised a hoof to her lips and pointed as obviously as she could to the tree behind her. Her eyes were as serious as she could make them.

Both guards nodded. As one, they slowed to a soft tread, years of military experience trumping heavy armour and sheer weight. Their unicorn horns glowed golden.

Three… she mouthed… two… one.

To her shock, two beams of light arced around the trunk. Before anyone blinked, the beams struck the guards between the eyes.

Applejack lunged. A third beam hit her between the eyes. Then, unexpectedly, it crackled and vanished, leaving absolutely no effect.

She swung around the trunk and rammed into the pony waiting there. Both she and her victim tumbled onto a patch of snow – the cold bit into her shoulders when the grey brightness stung her eyes – and Applejack straightened up, all four hooves pinning the enemy's legs to the leaf litter.

Suri Polomare cringed. “Hey! Ex-cuse me, but I’m not the jerk you want, jerk!”

Applejack gaped. Yet it was the dressmaker all right: the same curly hair held back by a headband; the same upmarket Manehattanite accent; the same bad attitude. Only two things didn’t quite fit. The first was the constant cringing, and even if she still had her old bravado, it was now reduced to a decoy, for the stench of fear radiated off of her like sewer water off a rat.

The second was the use of magic.

“What did you do to them guards?” Applejack snapped. “And how?”

“Me!? I’m a victim and an earth pony! Get off me, ‘kay!?”

Two bodies groaned and hit the grass behind her.

“It’s a trap, you moron!” Suri’s gaze flitted past the farmer’s face. “Behind you!”

Applejack spun around and saw a crystalline hoof coming the other way. Instinct threw her backwards and upright, and the crystal pony’s punch became a swipe that smacked her chest-first into the ground. Suri cried out, leaves and snow smothered Applejack’s spluttering face, and crashing leaves mixed with the sound of four cantering hooves fading away.

She rolled forwards into a sitting position. Down the slope and away from the Oval, the kidnapper broke into a gallop. Suri’s screaming face shrank away.

Barely registering the ache in her shoulders, Applejack threw herself into a gallop, ignoring the shouts coming from behind.

Up ahead, the kidnapper hit a patch of snow and yelped. Suri lashed out, and the two of them went skidding across the black ice encrusting the path. Then they both tumbled down the next slope.

Applejack summoned the ghost of every rodeo she’d competed in and leaped clean across the patch. Soil scattered under her hooves. Far below, the slope ended with a grey block. The Statue of Smart Cookie, she remembered. It looked as dull and stiff as it had done all those years ago…

“Look out!” yelled Suri. “She’s got –”

Not only did Applejack jink around the plinth, but she ducked the leg that kicked out from behind it. Applejack tried to twist in mid-stride, and the kidnapper raised the pendant around her neck and fired a bolt of white at her face.

“– a disabling spell!”

Useless on non-unicorns, she realized, but bright enough to buy a few seconds. In the time it took to shake the afterglow out of her eyes, Applejack barely spotted the crystal pony slinging Suri over her shoulder before the kidnapper vanished into the grey. At once, she threw herself back into the chase.

Up ahead, the squatting wall that was the Cosmopolitan Crafts Centre loomed out of the fog, dwarfing the snow-blanketed pines. As she leaped over another path – East Drive; her memory blurted out the words on sight – a star shot up from the canopy to her right. The guards had sent a flare. Reinforcements were on the way, but already she was panting against the dry winter’s air, and the crystal pony was barely visible and not getting any closer.

The wall of the centre faded into the world as a shiny block. She could even see the scratch marks and hoofprints.

As she watched, the crystal pony braced its legs, sprang for the vast, dark window that could not possibly crack even with two bodies slamming into it, and landed on the glass hooves-first. It began walking upwards.

Applejack skidded to a halt. But how? It’s like the wall just became a floor to her.

Then, she noticed the rounded, crystalline hoof-bells on the pony’s feet. They twinkled with white light. Suri screamed again and started shouting curses.

“Aw, hayseed,” Applejack groaned.

“She’s not at her stall,” said Apple Bloom. “Ah tol’ you she ain’t anywhere.”

Rarity hummed and munched a levitating apple. The twinge of guilt, however, did get her to drop a few bits in the collecting box. If she was going to make up for missing breakfast, she might as well do it for a good cause.

“Maybe she went to have a look at the Ancient Crystal Idol?” said Sweetie Belle. “I heard it’s got secret powers, but no one’s figured out how to get it to work yet. And it’s very pretty.”

“It is!” said Apple Bloom cheerfully. “Ah’ve seen the badges everyone’s wearin’. We could go have a gander once we find AJ, if you like.”

Another unladylike crunch of the apple followed, and Rarity looked for a napkin to wipe her lips. “‘s not ‘rrived yed,” she mumbled around the mouthful. “Godda waid doo ‘ours.”

“Huh?” said Sweetie Belle.

Rarity swallowed. “It has not arrived yet and you’ve got to wait two hours. I was enunciating clearly. In any case, I can’t imagine Applejack sneaking off for a quick peek of that thing.” She snorted. “Now, if it was made of apples, on the other hand…”

Guards shouted across the Great Lawn. Some rushed across to the eastern side, ploughing through drifts of snow or churning up the exposed grass. Unicorns lit their horns, and pegasi flapped and took to the air. The shield flared so much that it seemed to be always there, just pulsing and ebbing like a living, breathing organism.

“What is going on over there?” Even as she spoke, however, doubts plunged into her chest and sank to her hooves with a thud.

Ponies screamed. Over their heads, two patches of the suddenly visible shield ripped apart, tendrils of torn magic evaporating away. Two guards turned and fired beams of purple up at the breaches, which filled like bowls and vanished.

“An attack!? Do you think it’s Applejack?” Apple Bloom gaped, but her eyes were wider and straining.

“Girls! Go back to the caravan and stay hidden!” Rarity ducked below the stall’s counter. I knew she wouldn’t have brought it along. Now, where did I keep it stashed – aha!

“Rarity?” Sweetie Belle took a step backwards, ears flattened under the weight of alarm.

“It can’t be Applejack!” shouted Apple Bloom from some private, tortured world of her own. “Not her too!”

“Of course not!” Rarity shouted. “I’m going to make sure it’s not! Now do what I say!”

She galloped after the last of the guards, shocking the few she managed to overtake. Tree trunks shot past on either side. The satchel bounced off her padded front against each stride. Where the icy ground threw guards off balance, she turned it into a straight skate that propelled her into a leap and an even faster run on the other side.

The nerve of those ponies! On the one fundraiser where my stars were going to lift everyone’s spirits! The one fundraiser where my dresses would help the poor families of all those victims! The one fundraiser where my speech was going to sock it right to those cowardly ruffians! ON MY GOSHDARNED FUNDRAISER!

Cooler voices in her head checked her overenthusiastic use of the “my”, but they melted under the roaring furnace that consumed the rest of her. Up ahead, the guards thinned out, the wall of the Cosmopolitan Crafts Centre faded into her immediate future, and she dug her hooves so hard into the dirt that they left skid marks.

Overhead, the kidnapper walked up the dark glass one steady hoof at a time. Lights twinkled where it stepped. Whatever the benefits of the gravity spell, it either wasn’t foolproof or wasn’t inspiring much confidence. Ever step was laboured and plodding.

“Rarity!”

She turned, and her knees almost sagged with sweet relief. Applejack was panting hard and stank of sweat and had at some point lost her Stetson, but Rarity was so giddy she almost kissed her on each cheek.

The earth mare pointed up. “She’s got Suri.”

Rarity leaned back, shocked to find she was even leaning forwards to begin with. “Pardon?”

“It’s the kidnapper. She’s got Suri. If they get over the other side, they’ll slip across Fifth Avenue, and then they’ll just disappear. We’re about to lose ‘em.”

Right on cue, Suri yelled another string of curses and thumped her kidnapper on the back. They were only feet away from the roof. Dimly visible through the glass, ponies inside the centre pointed up and chattered.

Rarity smirked and let the satchel drop. Rope and coloured horseshoes spilled onto the grass.

“What the hay?” Applejack picked up a length and tried to blink the illusion away. “What’s this? You knew exactly that we’d need this rope?”

“No, of course not. I simply brought your rodeo gear along, just in case I could persuade you to get onto that stage.” A smug smile wormed through her voice. “Any lady worth her salt must be prepared for anything.”

“Ha! Rarity, you’re a star.”

Soon, the lasso whirled and spun around Applejack’s head. Her eyes narrowed, watching the yelling face of Suri. Barely had the kidnapper reached the edge of the roof when there was a flash of cords and its hoof snagged on the tightening rope. Around the two mares, the few unicorn guards winced in sympathy at the thud as the pony fell forwards. Only its leg stuck out.

Such poetry in motion, Rarity thought. Each word dripped with a slight hint of green like poison. There’s an artist in her somewhere, if only she’d let me coax it out of her. This talent’s wasted on rodeo.

“Excellent throw, lass,” said the nearest guard. To his fellows, he shouted, “Get up on that roof! Take the stairs. Anything. We can’t let this one slip away.”

Applejack tried to speak, a pointless effort with her mouth full of rope.

“You’re welcome?” Rarity hazarded. This earned her a roll of the eyes.

In the skies, a ring of pegasus Royal Guards closed in on the lassoed hoof still sticking out. She hummed thoughtfully to herself while she watched.

“Applejack?” she said. “I’ve been considering the situation.”

She was sure Applejack had just said “Uh oh”, but pretended it was too hard to decipher anyway.

“There is no way all these kidnappings were the work of one crystal pony, even with fancy gadgets and gizmos. I happen to know for a fact that Joy Denim always used a three-pony locking mechanism and a triple-pony security hex on all her doors and windows.”

“Uh huh?” mouthed Applejack around the lasso. She winced at a tug and yanked her head down; the flailing limb shot back down with a smack.

“So once this one pony is brought in, the Royal Guard will want to ask her who her accomplices were. Now, I know this is going to sound crazy, but I’ve solved a few mysteries in my time, and –”

A muffled but insistent syllable ploughed through the oral obstruction. Rarity actually shrank back.

“Just hear me out! They might go after one of us next. Maybe even Sweetie Belle, or Apple Bloom!” Spotting the spasm of fear around Applejack’s eyes, she pressed her advantage. “If we could find out who’s behind this before they strike again, we might even be able to help those poor ponies who are already missing. With my detective skills and your… uh… strength…”

Applejack snorted.

After a long pause, Rarity shrugged and slung her satchel over her head. “Will you at least think about it?”

They looked up in time to see the blaze of light.

Lines of glowing flames whipped across the sky. Every pegasus Royal Guard in the dogpile tumbled away from the radiating purple and disappeared over the canopy. Unseen blasts of magic punched into their ears, and bodies thumped on the ground far away.

Applejack yelled behind her suddenly rising rope. Rarity leaped and grabbed her disappearing tail. Straw-like hairs clumped on her tongue. She bit down harder as the ground yanked itself away from her legs. Despite the mass in her mouth, her scream broke through cleanly.

Then the glass sped past, and they rolled along the flat stone roof. By the time they stopped, both of them winced and strained against the bruising erupting along their flanks.

Rarity raised her head, and saw across the rooftops of the centre to a distant hedgerow and flowerbeds. Café tables and chairs lay scattered where the patrons had taken no chances with all the excitement going on. Tiny purple flames flickered at random across the mess. Beyond that, the rows and columns of skyscrapers stood to attention, a shiny guard of honour keeping eternal watch over the park.

A crystal pony stomped into view. Rarity peered up at the narrow, mocking glare. She growled and fired up her horn.

At once, the pendant around the kidnapper’s neck whitened. Something lashed across her forehead; next moment, pain stabbed into her brain, throwing the world around her in shattered pieces. Her mind fought to keep everything together.

When it settled, she braced herself for another burst of magic, and felt… nothing. She tried again. Not so much as a spark of life in her horn. Even her numb legs didn’t feel this bad.

“What…” she breathed. “What did you just do?”

Two more crystal ponies stepped into view. They said something, but it was too windy up here and she couldn’t make out anything beyond “whurp-whurp-whurpwhurp-whurp, whurp.”

One raised a foreleg and breathed on its hoof. Green gases spewed forth. She could see nothing but emerald sparkles. Sleep ran through her mind, shutting everything down in its wake.

Rarity yawned, and got no further than whispering “Apple –”

She didn’t even remember her chin hitting the stone.

Intro: The Disorientation

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Applejack creased her brow. Her brain was nothing but a concentrated spike of pain right now.

Dimly, she remembered the shaking and the rattling. Then someone had yelled, and the world had exploded with noise until she’d felt light and then settled down on something hard. Details slipped out of her mind, though. She couldn’t tell whether or not it was a dream.

Hard and cold blocks pressed into her hooves. Metal cuffs, presumably, or restraints. Feeling returned to her legs; they were splayed wide. Her back pressed against a slab.

Whistle… chug… hiss… whistle… chug… hiss… Machinery? she guessed. It was regular as clockwork, and sounded metallic to her ears. For a while, the undemanding regularity soothed her. Whistle… chug… hiss…

Voices hopped into her consciousness. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to listen. They were two males by the sound of it.

“Well well well,” said the first one. “Isn’t this a turn-up for the books, o brother of mine?”

“Truer words have never been spoken, indeedy not,” said the second one. “Fate plays with a strange deck of cards.”

“Then we’ll need nothing short of a good hand, a poker face, a hidden ace, a winnin’ case, a steady pace…”

Inside her head, a tumbler clicked. Her eyes shot open. Two blurry figures stood before her, craning their necks, and as she stared, they swam into focus.

Yes, there they were: the same roguishly tilted straw hats; the same snappy suits and bow ties; the same smug smiles and eyes shining with the generous, honest joy of born hucksters. She almost snapped her frogs trying to get up.

“You two!” Applejack glanced at the crystalline restraints. “What are you crooks up to now?”

“A swell good morning to you too!” said the moustached one, raising his hat respectfully. “Welcome to the first day of your new life, li’l’ missy.”

“I believe congratulations are in order, are they not, Flam?”

“In order and incoming, Flim! After all, we’ve just saved your life, Applejack.”

Behind the two, a gigantic boiler burned into her eyes when she tried to look up. Pipes spread out across the ceiling. All around her, tables and benches overflowed with toolbox spillage and metal parts she’d rather not know the names of. Otherwise, the walls closed in.

Hairs tingled on the back of her head. On the table next to her, someone snored; when she looked round, there was another vertical slab like hers with four restraints. Spread-eagled, Rarity shuddered under another snore. Her head hung from her shoulders.

“You dirty rats!” Applejack tried to lunge forwards. Blisters erupted under the restraints. “Ah always knew you were thieves an’ liars, but kidnappin’ ponies!?”

“Water under the bridge, dear Applejack,” said Flim with infuriating calmness. “Our raft on the river of life has drifted down to waters unknown. Besides, you’ve quite gotten the wrong end of the stick.”

“Oh yeah? Is that why Ah’m hung up like a girdle on a washin’ line?”

“Take it easy there, friend,” said Flam, and he levitated what could only be described as a cross between a crab and a Swiss army knife. “You would’ve been prisoners of the crystal ponies if we hadn’t ambushed them on the way back.”

“What are you talkin’ about? What crystal ponies? Wait!” History slapped her around the face. “We were on the roof. There was four of ‘em, an’ they sprayed this green stuff, and there was this crystal stuff they had like jewellery!”

Both Flim and Flam nodded. Now that she was concentrating on them, their eyes seemed a little lidded and the whites were puffy and pink. Their manes under their hats had random hairs sticking out too. Also, the room was a little angular.

“Where are we?” she said.

“Not that you’re going to trust us anyway.” Flam pouted, but continued, “This is our hideout. Beyond the doorway lies the crystal city. We’re going to let you down before you can say ‘sassafras’, and we’re gonna paint you a picture.”

“A grim and unwelcoming picture, it must be said, Flam,” said Flim.

“Grimly and unwelcomingly, I must agree, Flim,” said Flam. His device drifted across and clamped onto something beside Applejack’s tail. “After all, we’re just doing our duty as part of the underground movement –”

As soon as the restraints snapped open, Applejack swung a hoof. It was a clumsy swipe and she fell onto all fours trying to steady herself, but it did the job. Both brothers jumped backwards, yelped, and tumbled over a bench. Tools clattered over their prone bodies.

“You jus’ wait!” She rammed the device into the hole next to Rarity’s curled tail, and when it clicked, she grabbed the falling body and slung it over a shoulder. “When Ah get hold o’ Princess Cadence, y’all ‘re gonna wish you’d never set foot in our town to begin with!”

She kicked the door, and then grunted; the rebound flattened her nose.

“Stay where you are!” snapped a pony on the other side.

Applejack pushed through into the lobby, and almost ran into the crystal mare. Two hooves the colour of sandy soil rose up. To her surprise, the crystal pony barred the way towards the next set of double doors.

“Titanite! Don’t let her get outside!” Flim groaned against a clatter of metal.

Shock rippled through her mind. You dare work with ‘em!? Traitor!

With a glare, Applejack crouched. The traitor lunged forwards. One complicated sidestep later, the mare yelled after her and she burst through the gleaming double doors.

She’d expected the silvery sheen of the street, the carved cottages, the towering spire of the crystal palace. The crystal ponies should’ve been shiny and lustrous. It should’ve been the Empire.

Yet, what she faced now was brown stone. The street was one smooth slab. Every house bubbled with black rock or seemed to have been stretched out while it was hot, leaving each side corrugated with stringy cooled stone. Beyond that, blackness covered the sky. She could only see because of the torches lit along the rows of houses. Iron knockers seemed in the gloom to be nothing more than solidified locks. It was an outdoor dungeon.

Wait… This ain’t the Empire…

“Whoa Nelly,” she murmured.

Rarity grunted something. Her eyes were still shut, and she’d been shorn of her winterwear and her braids. Judging from the tangled knots and haystack hairstyle, it was just as well she stayed unconscious.

Angry voices followed her, but by then she was galloping up the street, looking for anyone in this pit of the world. Clopping hooves followed. She jinked down an alley to her left and soon burst out onto another street, little different from the one she’d left. The hoofsteps vanished.

Crystal ponies! They scattered along the street, maybe four or five spaced out every few yards. All of them were dull of coat, their eyes downcast, their faces pinched.

Suspicion began to creep into her mind. Yet, there were no dark towers visible above any of the rooftops. There were no towers at all. Lighter though the sky was near the horizon, it must’ve been shining on low-level cloud or fog, because only the brown lumps and bumps could be seen. None of them were moving, though.

Three crystal ponies stopped to watch. Nothing shone within their faceted eyes.

They were crystal ponies, but this was all wrong. Crystal ponies lived far to the north, in a bright capital where the streets formed a six-sided star that looked marvellous from the balconies of the central palace. Elsewhere, they were only visitors, the odd faceted head among a sea of ponies. Seeing this many at once suggested crystal pony settlement, but then why did the houses look nothing like the ones she knew…?

“Er,” she said around her panting, “excuse me.”

Suspicion stretched out its clammy claws. She could almost feel it creeping over her back, so it didn’t help when Rarity chose that moment to shift her weight.

“MmMmMmmm,” murmured the unicorn.

“Come on, Rarity,” Applejack whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice. “Wakey wakey.”

Around the two, a dozen crystal ponies gathered to watch. Many of them were blinking and cocking their heads. One took a step closer and narrowed his eyes.

“Who the heck are you?” he said.

No. This is way too wrong. Every pony in the Crystal Empire knows who we are. We helped ‘em set up that Faire. There’s no way they’d be this rude neither.

“Uh,” she said. Her instincts elbowed her and waggled their eyebrows until she added, “Oh, never mind. Listen. There’s a couple o’ criminal types holed up near here. They’re the ones behind these ‘ere kidnappin’s. Ah need to get to Princess Cadence right away before they give us the slip.”

“And what are you gibbering about? What kidnappings?”

But Applejack’s brain was playing catch-up. “OK, Ah get it. Cadence must’ve already left, an’ it’s big news in Manehattan. That’s a long way away. Fine. Now, the Prince –”

“She’s raving!” murmured a crystal mare. Her tones were hushed with horror and awe.

“What’s she doing with that unicorn!?”

“Kidnapper!?”

“She must be one of those escaped thugs.”

“Get her!”

“Now, you jus’ wait a cotton-pickin’ minute –” Applejack ducked under their leaps and galloped onwards, Rarity’s head bouncing on her shoulder.

This place has gone mad. No sooner did the thought stab into her mind when the suspicion leaped out of the shadows at her. She peered at the lit horizon, and then glanced back at another lit horizon, and then finally looked up at the darkness overhead. No, it wasn’t pure. There! A flicker of brown showed where the torchlight caught something pointy hanging down from the sky.

“No… way,” she said in between pants. “It jus’… can’t be.”

She ducked into an alleyway, much broader than the last one. Here, she eased Rarity off her shoulder and placed her gently against the wall before collapsing and wheezing.

“You ain’t gonna believe this, Rarity,” she said once she got her breath back. “Those kidnappers musta smuggled us into a cave. That weren’t no brown cloud or nothin’. That’s rock up there. There ain’t no sun or moon down here. Ah can tell.”

The unicorn snorted and heaved her shoulders.

Her head seemed lighter than it should’ve done. Applejack reached up instantly, and froze. There was nothing on her head. Someone had removed the twine tying her ponytail back, but worse still, where there should have been a felt brim, there was only air.

There was always a hat on her head. Oh, she might take it off for bed or if she was really sweaty, but the hat was Applejack and Applejack was the hat, and now there was no hat, and she suddenly felt numb and small and confused. In short, she felt like a filly, lost in a wandering dream.

Perhaps she could find a cave mouth. Anything to get out of this place was good in her books. Nonetheless, rooftops stretched away in hundreds. Even the most patient caver would need most of a day to run along the perimeter of something this big. Besides, whoever had brought her here – Flim and Flam couldn’t possibly have acted alone – was probably on her trail right now.

“Don’t worry, Rarity,” she said to the unicorn, whose face flickered with frowns. “We’re gettin’ outta here.”

Applejack’s ear twitched. She spun around.

Five crystal ponies blocked the alleyway. When she turned back to pick up Rarity, another five stepped out from the other end.

The walls were too high on either side. Perhaps, if she was lucky, she could take out most of them. Unless she abandoned Rarity, however, there was no way she was going to dodge or run past them. If she missed one, it would be one too many, because she was already struggling to control her breathing whereas they were steady and poised.

Years of rodeo, don’t fail me now. For the love of Pete, don’t fail me now…

“Ah ain’t lookin’ for no trouble, friend,” she said to the nearest one.

None of them spoke. They were wrapped up in dark cloth and wide-brimmed hats. Only their faceted eyes shone. Then the five in front of her grinned. Iron chains clinked and spun over eight of the heads like bolas.

“Listen,” she said. “Ah’m jus’ tryin’ to find the way out. We’re lost, that’s all.”

The nearest one had no iron. He did have a stick of hay in his mouth, though, and now he shifted it from one side to the other.

“How much d’you reckon they’d fetch from the Officer?” he growled. “Unicorn’s always good. Not much for an earth pony, but they’ll take anyone these days. Ain’t that right, guys?”

Terror knotted inside Applejack’s stomach. “Ah’m serious, fellas. Don’t push it.”

“A scrapper, eh?” He shifted his straw again. “That’ll fetch extra. The Officer loves a good scrapper. Knock ‘em dead, Pyrope.”

Wearily, Applejack braced her muscles before the chains lashed out at her nose.

A beam of light shot down. The iron shattered.

All those assembled peered down at the fragments and links strewn next to Rarity, who winced and muttered something about pie. Then they peered up at the nearest rooftop.

Applejack recognized the crystal mare. It was the traitor.

The traitor lowered her forelimb and hopped down. Barely thinking, Applejack dived on top of Rarity, felt a chain snap at her hooves, gasped, and tumbled with the body firmly clasped between her four legs, one cradling the horned head. Above them, whips cracked and chains snapped. Howls of derision fell back, and howls of terror faded away.

Soon enough, the general excitement died down. Still, Applejack didn’t raise her head until nothing had happened for a few seconds.

The traitor stood before her; no one else was about. By sheer fascinated horror, Applejack’s eyes locked onto the tangle around the creature’s front-left hoof.

“Idiot,” snapped the traitor. “There are thugs and bounty hunters all over this side of town. You gonna run, you run. You gonna fight, you fight. Don’t waste time talking to them.”

Applejack released her grip on Rarity. She hadn’t thought about it at the time – fright and instinct had hijacked the controls for the last few seconds – but suddenly she was glad the unicorn was not awake. In any case, she was no longer feeling ready to explain a thing.

“Um. Right.” Indignation caught up with her. “Hey! Ah ain’t a thug myself. Ah don’t pick fights.”

“Now, you come back with me.”

It was around this point that Applejack ran out, which came as a complete surprise. Whatever had geared her up for a fight had also decided it wasn’t getting paid enough for this. Only one thought remained in her head: Get out of here. Get out now.

“Ah’m goin’ nowhere,” she said. “Not with you.”

“You don’t know where you are! If you had only listened to us! We could have helped you!”

“Then you best explain yourself now, Shiny, while Ah’m still gettin’ mah breath back.”

“Disrespectful oaf! The name is Titanite!” The traitor aimed the device on her leg.

It looked like she’d stepped in a bamboo basket, but around the rim of the widened hoof, a dozen tiny rubies pulsed with light. Applejack shut her mouth. Strange pulsing gemstones were a bad sign, especially when they were pointed at a spot between her eyes. The fact that she had no idea what it was made her even less inclined to making sudden moves.

She blinked. “Ah’m sorry. It’s been… rough. Go ahead, if you think it’ll help.”

The device waggled, pointing back the way she’d come. Applejack sighed and slung Rarity over her shoulder again. She hoped the unicorn would wake up soon, but then Rarity was a big believer in beauty sleep, and they could have missed a few nights for all she knew.

Already, her mind was mining for what little she knew about the Crystal Empire. Its ponies were shiny and glasslike when happy, but dull as bricks when not. None of the ponies she’d seen here had been shining with happiness. Perhaps this “Officer”, whoever the guy was, did all that.

“We are the underground,” whispered Titanite. As Applejack shuffled along, she noticed the crystal ponies along the street scurrying to give them a wide berth. Yet somehow, they did it without actually looking…

“You’re a mite conspicuous up here, aincha?”

Beside her, Rarity kicked at some disturbing dream. Murmurings soon followed.

“This is just one district in town. Garnet District. Here, we can be open, because the ponies are on our side. You just keep walking.”

“Rarity?” whispered Applejack.

“You fleshy ponies are so strange,” continued Titanite behind her. “Why is that one not waking up?”

“Ah guess she’s not as hardy as yours truly.” Despite herself, a note of smugness crept into Applejack’s voice. “So where is this place, anyway?”

“We call it Titanium Town. Does that mean anything to you?”

Applejack’s mind drew a blank. “Should it?”

“Yes. The Crystal Empire is well-known, but it is not the only crystal pony stronghold. There were hundreds – no, thousands – of such places before the defeat of the Great Crystal Empire. Only the northern citadel survived, or so it would seem. Many believed the rest were destroyed or turned into settlements for fleshy ponies like you.”

Applejack barely listened. She wondered if history was this boring to Apple Bloom…

Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle! Both names dropped as ice into the pink flesh of her brain. They were still in Manehattan somewhere, stuck without their elder sisters. Would Coco or Trenderhoof take care of them? Were the Royal Guard sending them home even now? She could almost see them, sitting on the train together, staring out the window as though hoping to see the elder sisters loom out of the green blurs of the countryside…

Rarity gave another kick, and then a slight tap on her shoulder almost made her jump. So the mare was awake now, and listening hard.

“We need to get away,” Applejack whispered. “Right behind us. Got a metal doohickey pointed at us.”

Another tap. Ever so carefully, she skewed her jaw.

“Say, stranger,” said Applejack as carelessly as she dared. “What’s that there doohickey you’re pointin’ at us? It must be good stuff if it can cut through iron.”

Titanite hummed thoughtfully, as though weighing up how much to reveal. When Applejack glanced back, the twelve tiny rubies pulsed.

“Well well well,” she said loudly. “Ah think Ah’ve seen gemstones like them before. Ain’t they some kind of energy ruby? Not very big, are they?”

“They are more than enough to handle you! Stop talking, you oaf!”

Oaf? We’ll be the judge of that, missy. Applejack grinned to herself as Rarity’s dangling hoof gave her another tap. Sometimes, it was nice to have a fashion-conscious friend, especially when they were a dab hoof with gemstones.

Of course, she wasn’t for violence. There were better things to do with her hooves than kicking others. Still, there were also things a farmer had to do to survive, and if she was going to do them anyway, then why couldn’t she at least enjoy it?

Besides, Ah ain’t gonna touch anyone.

“Turn left, you,” said Titanite.

Rarity’s horn flared. The rising screech was of the air itself charging up, and then the crystal pony howled before shards tinkled on the ground behind them. Applejack thrust a shoulder up, and Rarity landed on all fours, wide awake and narrow-eyed.

“Now what do we do?” the unicorn snapped.

“What else? Run, ya big ninny!” Applejack overtook her and turned right, but barely got her speed up when Rarity drew up alongside.

“Applejack! Do we really have to run!?”

“You got a better idea?”

“Where are we running to?”

“Don’t worry about ‘to’! Worry about ‘from’!”

From a side street, they heard the stamping of metal shoes. Applejack jinked to the left, away from the noise, ignoring the cries of crystal ponies that jumped out of their way. Beside her, Rarity was breathing hard. For all the scrapes the two had gotten into over the years, the fashionista was, on the whole, still the sort to treat ten minutes of yoga as if it were a full-blown marathon.

Suddenly, Rarity skidded to a halt. Almost knotting her legs in the attempt, Applejack spun and landed to face her.

“Have you gone plum loco? Don’t stop!”

“Hold on…” The unicorn sniffed at the air. Slight twinkles showered from her horn. “I can detect something. It’s some kind of magical trace.”

“So what? Let's just get outta here!”

Back down the way they came, the scattering of ponies scattered even further. A wall of dark shapes was galloping towards them. Green slits peered out from the silhouettes.

To Applejack’s astonishment, her friend ran left. She threw herself back into a gallop, but stumbled over the questions laying siege to her mind.

And then she realized her mistake. There was a tower. It was looming out of the darkness like a perspective illusion, one moment blending in with the cavernous shadow, the next as clear as a fang on rice paper. The pointed shape, the jagged outline, all of it was startlingly familiar.

Rarity galloped towards its base, horn still sputtering sparks, and there! Between its four massive, columnar legs, in the centre of a mosaic of obsidian, held with excruciating precision between a smooth stalactite and a smooth stalagmite, was…

No… that can’t be right. Applejack skidded to a stop. Ah’ve seen that before in the Crystal Empire. But this ain’t no empire.

“I knew I sensed something!” Rarity pointed and beamed at her. “The Crystal Heart! Look at that magnificence!”

Yet, it couldn’t be. An entire empire surrounded – should have surrounded – the original Crystal Heart, not this subterranean dump. Moreover, this Heart and this tower were dark. Even looking at its depths now, she could make out a faint purple sheen.

Applejack waved a hoof in front of her friend’s wide eyes. There didn’t seem to be any life there.

Iron shoes thumped against the ground all around them. Streets radiated from the tower – just like in the north – and walls of figures were stamping into view.

“Um, Rarity?” Applejack shook her friend’s shoulder. “You do know we’re bein’ chased, right?”

“Hm?” Rarity blinked.

A dozen guards surrounded the tower, hemming the pair of them in.

Their grey armour bristled with spikes. Black tufts of hair jetted from their helmets and rear ends like fountains of crude oil, frozen in mid-spout. Worse of all were the eyes; nothing but narrow slits, oozing with a sickly green glow. Each breath came out as a roar through the metal acoustics of their mouth guards.

Applejack crouched for a tackle. “We don’t have to take ‘em all. Jus’ follow my lead. If we get past ‘em, then we’ll –”

“What barbaric, uncultured thieves!” Rarity glared at the revolving Crystal Heart. “Plunderers! Uncouth appropriators of beauty! No one is going to blacken the Crystal Heart on my watch!”

“Then grab it, quick! Jus’ please! Let’s get outta here!”

Barely had she spoken when Rarity finished her run-up and leapt. It was an act of balletic grace that sliced through the dark chaos of Applejack’s mind, and even the guards stopped to watch in fascination, their heads rising to trace the curved arc.

Rarity’s horn glowed as her magic spread forwards and snatched at the Heart – which flared.

Every figure present winced before Applejack felt her entire mind blown away. Suddenly, nothingness was all around her.

…a pink face, long and definitely equine, opened its eyes and gasped…

Then there was a thump. The world lashed her between the eyes. Applejack rubbed her forehead and gritted her teeth, but the tendrils of shock spiked through her thoughts, purple trails of lightning ripped the dingy houses apart. By the time she could focus, her body was crouching and the guards were already surrounding her.

Beyond them, the dark Crystal Heart spun onwards. Two more guards marched towards it. And at its base, Rarity lay on her side, still and quiet. Her horn went out.

Applejack opened her mouth to shout, but then the legs seized her and yanked her upright. She could only watch – wincing at each remnant stab of pain – while her friend vanished behind the armoured bodies closing in. She screamed and, with one last burst of fire, rose up and surged forwards.

Applejack’s eyes stung, yet she couldn’t close them.

All around her, the bubbles were locked into place among the blueness, along with the glassy veins of trapped eddies and entombed swirls. The chill stuck needles into her skin, somehow suggesting by its slightness that the subzero worst of it was just a hair’s breadth away, poised all around to stab and shock her to death. Lungs inside her strained for a breath that hadn’t finished in hours.

Outside the ice block, if she swivelled her eyes and ignored the squeak, she could see Rarity lying supine on a bed. Crystal bed, of course. Every darn thing in this cell was crystal, even the pillow.

Ah swear, when Ah get out of this block, so help me, Ah won’t be held responsible for what Ah do…

“Getting bored in there, Apple Bob, aheheh OK?”

Applejack swivelled her eyes to the other bed, the one opposite the first. Suri was lounging on her belly, hoof tapping on the pillow idly.

“You did your best, I guess.” Suri shrugged and slipped off the bed. “After all, you do what you can to survive. Yeah, I heard what kind of escape you tried to pull. Guards wouldn’t stop talking about it. Plucky little country scamp, ain’t ya?”

If her brow hadn’t been frozen into place, Applejack would’ve frowned. In fact, she was becoming self-consciously warm; being frozen bellowing in mid-gallop did not leave a pony in the most dignified of positions.

Suri strode up to the block and peered through as though at a rare museum exhibit. “Now, I may be a simple fashion designer, aheheh OK? But I’ve got brains, me. And I think it’s not a good idea to make nasty to the ponies who got you beat in a park full of Royal Guards, right?”

Applejack groaned in frustration. Against the ice, it was the only sound she could make. Suri leaned closer and raised a hoof conspiratorially.

“Listen, I know what’s coming up,” she whispered. “Unlike you, I didn’t get sidetracked by the underground. So here’s a word of advice, one hard-working earth pony to another. When they say jump, you say how high. When they say kick, you say how hard. And don’t make ‘em say it twice, ‘cause they won’t use words the second time. Know what I’m sayin’, aheheh OK?”

A bolt screeched out of its slot. The vast sliding door of the cell ground its way out of view, and four hooves tapped on the reflective floor. Applejack’s eyes squeaked trying to widen.

It wasn’t a crystal pony. Instead, a pony-sized pig stepped through. She needed a moment to realize that it was a pig; unlike the pink, bulging specimens she kept at home, this one had more in common with a streamlined porcupine. There was a sense that it was running even when it was standing still, and its bristles clawed at the air behind it. The phrase “wild boar” jumped to mind at the sight.

Suri’s calm smile evaporated at once. White terror flooded her eyes, leaving her pinprick pupils alone and quivering. She drew back, bounced off the ice block, and gulped.

The pig growled words, but it was no language Applejack had ever heard. Surprise rushed through her. None of the pigs back home had ever said anything beyond a grunt. Among hoofed citizens, they were a bit of an embarrassment in that respect.

Suri’s knees knocked together. “Not already!? I was on only this morning!”

The pig bared its teeth. Or rather, it bared its tusks, fangs, bone-crushing molars, and half the contents of a cutlery set. If there had been any normal teeth in there, they’d have been weeded out by survival of the nastiest.

Head hanging low, Suri shuffled past the pig and out through the open door.

What’s a pig doin’ in a crystal pony place? Applejack tried to work her jaw, but all she did was heat it up through sheer muscular effort. An’ they ain’t this smart. What’s got Suri all worked up anyway? What did she mean by all that?

Applejack peered across at Rarity. She was still… asleep? Unconscious? Maybe even…

No. She’s gonna be OK. She’s jus’ gotta be. It was my fault she’s like she is now. Ah told her to grab the thing!

The pig narrowed its eyes at her. Slowly, as though wary of her breaking out, it walked around the block and disappeared from view. A moment later, she felt the slight vibrations when the block scraped along the floor. It wasn’t a bad job, either; the thing slid without stop or stutter, curving away from Rarity’s bed and towards the open doorway at a trotting speed.

Don’t worry, she thought desperately. Panickin’ ain’t gonna solve this. Rarity’ll be fine. Jus’ keep your eyes open, an’ be ready for when a chance comes along. Every jail has a weak spot. Gotta find this one’s.

She stopped on a hexagonal platform. That was all that the door opened out onto. No more doors, no windows, not even a corridor of any kind.

Crystal ponies, a pig that can think, a big ol’ cave city, an’ a tower an’ Crystal Heart like the one Ah know from the Frozen North. Don’t add up to much. Maybe we can figure this out if we get more clues.

A jolt rippled through her. Then, the walls rushed past. By the time she realized it was actually the platform rising, they’d both clicked to a stop. Now a second doorway loomed before her. Like its predecessor, it ground open. The pig pushed her through.

This chamber swallowed everything up; forcing her eyes to swivel upwards, she could see the cylindrical upper slopes of the room stretching onwards to a general glow of white light. Columns lined what should have been a red carpet, except that there was nothing but a pale strip where one had once lain. After what felt like several minutes, they approached a desk so high and solid it might have been carved from a boulder.

She stopped moving. Behind her, the pig grunted something and then kicked.

Ice shattered around her, and she dropped to her hooves. The impact ran through her weakened legs. She fell onto her knees and cannons, gasping and coughing.

“Welcome,” said a chirpy voice over her head. “Welcome, dear Applejack, to the humble reaches of Antipodean City!”

Lights flickered on and off in her vision, but the mare’s face gleamed from the peak of the desk. Unlike the other crystal ponies she’d seen so far, this one was shiny and translucent. It reminded her of the happy ponies of the Crystal Empire.

On either side of the desk, pigs stood in a line of honour. All of them were as rugged as the first, which had joined the rightmost side.

“Who…” Applejack shook herself down. She’d be darned if she was going to look frail in front of any stranger’s face, especially from this height. “Jus’ who the hay are you? Let me outta here or Ah start kickin’.”

Crystal came grinding up from the floor. When she looked down, her hooves were encased.

“Hey! This is goin’ too far!” No amount of pulling got them loose again.

“So you wanna know who the hay I am?” continued the chirpy voice. The crystal pony’s face leaned closer and smiled genially as though indulging a precocious scamp of a niece. “Well, I am the Officer. That’s short for the Ultimate Supreme Company Executive Officer Feldspar of the House of Silicates. I rule this city. And I love every second of it!”

The face disappeared and reappeared with a squeak of axles.

“That’s my swivel chair. Neat, huh? And the pig who brought you in was Peccary. There, now we know each others’ names, where shall we begin?”

It was the smile. All broad and friendly and crinkling the eyes above it, just like her Granny’s did on a really good day. But if Applejack squinted, it changed – without any kind of alteration, without so much as a facial spasm – into a leering smirk. It said, I know the rules of this game, and you are seconds from losing. And you don’t know how to stop it. That’s what makes it fun.

Hairs rose all along her nape. If she wasn’t shuddering before, she was now.

Applejack finally gave the frown she’d been holding back. “It was you. You kidnapped us.”

“Me? Of course not. I don’t get involved in the hurly-burly of ground affairs myself. I simply gave the order. One of the heroes of Equestria, and a rodeo champion to boot. How could I refuse?”

“Look, once the Princesses and my friends find out what you did and where y’all are, so help me, there won’t be nothin’ to stop them marchin’ in here an’ tearin’ this place apart. You let me an’ my friend go now, an’ Ah’ll make sure they go easy on you.”

Both lines of pigs bent low into a crouch, ready to pounce. Officer Feldspar waved a hoof airily and they relaxed again.

“Happy hunting for them,” said the crystal mare with a careless shrug. “Antipodean City is cut off from the rest of the world, isolated and impossible to reach without the right know-how. You were looking for tunnels earlier, I’ll bet. Well, I’ll save you the bother. There are no tunnels to these caves. You are not getting in or out. Quite a challenge for your friends, eh, even if they could get here before you ended up dead?”

“What. Do. You. Want?” said Applejack. Each word echoed back to her in the vast chamber.

“Simple. I want you to fight for my subjects’ entertainment.”

“What? Have you gone mad?”

“No. Better. I’ve been freed from everyday, tiresome constraints. Freeeeed!” The face disappeared and reappeared again with another squeak of axles. “And this city is only the start. Look at your left leg.”

She did so. Strapped to it was a corrugated ring of emerald crystal.

“That is Deadly Dendrite. Its roots have already grown through your skin and flesh, so there’s no chance of removing it without ripping your own bones out.”

Chills went down Applejack’s spine. Her legs had been so numb from the ice that she hadn’t even noticed, but already she could feel the slight pressure under her skin, exactly where it shouldn’t be.

“For now, my agents are keeping this thing in check. However, do anything that might irritate or bore me, and the crystal threads will grow further, up and over your skin, until you are entirely encased. And this time, there’s no freezing or preservative in it, so you’ll simply suffocate where you stand.”

Looking closer, she could make out the nubs of crystal on each of the corrugated faces. Applejack stood up at once.

“Then how about Ah take you down before that happens?” she growled.

“Oh, but my dear,” continued the voice in plummy tones, “I thought you might not be entirely swayed by any risk to yourself. That’s why I have a second means of persuasion…”

“You dare hurt one hair on Rarity’s head,” Applejack roared, “an’ it’ll be the las’ thing y’all ever get to do!”

Officer Feldspar’s smirk bloomed at last. “Rarity’s head? One of my most promising catches? I don’t think so. Show ‘er, Peccary.”

The pig squealed a reply and jumped behind the desk. In her head, alarms began ringing, but Applejack was too busy trying to keep herself from falling over. Ice still bit into her, despite the fact that most of it lay about in puddles now. On top of that, Officer Feldspar’s smirking words were slapping her brain silly.

From round the corner came a scraping of something big and heavy. Suspicion crept into her mind.

“I’m not a total dummy, you know,” said Officer Feldspar conversationally. “Heroes always love a good self-sacrifice. The nobler, the better. In fact, that’s what I’m looking forward to. But even heroes have their limits, and it doesn’t take much to figure out yours. After all, you earth ponies breed like crazy.”

Another shove from Peccary’s head, and the ice block slid into view. Applejack stared at the two figures trapped inside.

“While everyone was dilly-dallying around the Centre, some more of my agents went to the park to get me some leverage. Did they deliver, or did they deliver?”

Applejack gasped. Locked behind a veneer of cold blue, two fillies had been thrown through the air, the earth filly curled up with tail billowing in her wake, the unicorn filly with limbs spread wide as though in freefall. Both pairs of eyes squeaked to focus on her.

“So, now you know our terms and conditions” – Officer Feldspar leaned forwards, chin resting on hooves – “would you like to rethink that statement? After all, there are nicer ways to… break the ice.”

As soon as she took a step forwards, Applejack stopped. Everything in her head had just stopped. The only sure thing was that block of ice, inside which the screaming faces of Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle looked back at her, reflecting the scream now echoing through her head.

Behind them, the pig leaned down. When it reared up again, some clanking metal mishmash rose under its hooves too. Apart from being the size of a cannon, it looked just like the device Titanite had aimed at her. Lights flared in the head-sized crystals. Something inside the mechanism began to charge up; there was a whirring in the air.

It was pointing at the ice block.

“Sweet! I guess you understand the situation.” To her ears, Officer Feldspar’s voice seemed a long way away. “Come on. It’s not all bad news. You sign a contract with me, and I’ll make an entirely new kind of hero out of you. I'll make you something you've never even dreamed of being! You’ll be a star brighter than any in the entire galaxy! So c’mon! Whaddaya say? Another shot at life, and a very handsome life at that?”

Applejack sighed and turned back to the desk. Nobody had touched her, but she might as well have been kicked around the room. She staggered slightly and stiffened her scowl.

“Ah guess… Ah don’t have a choice,” she said. “What… do you want me to do, exactly?”

“I told you. Fight.”

“Ah gathered that. But jus’… why? What good’s fightin’?”

Applejack stared up at the face, which smirked at everything and sparkled like polished glass and stared back like a connoisseur eyeing up a fine vintage for the evening dinner.

“Think of it more as a kind of extreme performance art,” said the smirk, “that sometimes ends when your head explodes. Shall we discuss time and place?”

Intro: Crystal Consciousness

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Rarity’s consciousness flicked back into life. There was the sensation that she was floating in a void, which was odd because she also felt the cold press of a bed on her side. For a moment, there were two of her occupying the same space, and then they focused and there was only her.

Sounds. I need sounds.

A low wind howled from a great distance. Both ears focused. No: a low choir flowed through a river, one note always haunting but never ending. She focused again: now the sound was the humming of a celestial giant. It didn’t matter what she tried; it was still hauntingly beautiful. Chills tingled through her.

Finally, Rarity strained and opened an eye. Then she opened the other, because her brain was having trouble believing the first one.

Darkness, filled with stars. A childish impulse in her head shrieked: Oh my word! I’m in the night sky! Rarity flipped over at once.

She’d half-expected the Earth to be laid out below her. She hadn’t expected mist. Yet there it was, glowing as brightly as the stars, spread out carefully like a gaseous blanket.

“I died?” she murmured. As she spoke, the world spoke with her. After she’d spun around, she recognized her own ethereal echo.

Some old piece of schoolyard folklore came back to her. She smacked her cheek with a hoof. Ow. Very well, so it’s potentially safe to conclude I am probably not dead.

“Hello?” she said, and so did the echo. A slight giggle escaped her mouth. “Echo! Rarity! Lady Rarity, the Magnificent Unicorn of Ponyville Palace! Beetles batter better in butter! Six sick bricks might bring back a snack! She sells seashells on the seashore, sure, so you should see the seashells she sells more!”

“Who are you talking to?”

Rarity was not noted for her turn of speed, but that moment she did something complicated that would’ve earned a lot of surprised respect from the Wonderbolts.

“Who’s there!?” She turned horn and hooves to the glowing mist. “I was an ace in Miss Pencil-Pusher’s self-defence classes! Reveal yourself at once, or you’ll regret it!”

A silhouette appeared behind the glowing veil. It was pony-shaped, but oddly stretched like an alicorn. Rarity’s glare focused on the long horn.

“Relax,” said the strange figure. “You summoned me, after all. Don’t you recognize me, Rarity?”

She skewed her lips. That voice was familiar, but it was hard to place with the echo. In any case, the silhouette became clearer. Definitely an alicorn.

“Does your name begin with a P, by any chance?” she said.

“A P?” said the voice, and it strained not to chuckle. “Is that the best you can do?”

Finally, the alicorn’s features cleared the obscuring mist. That cerise coat, those long violet locks with rose and gold streaks, the small crown and golden royal shoes…

Rarity blinked and focused on the smile. “Princess Cadence?”

“Who else were you expecting?” Princess Cadence stretched her wings and, like a swan adjusting its position, flapped until she was sliding to a stop next to her. “And just ‘Cadence’ will do fine. I had a vision of you not too long ago. You seemed to be in trouble.”

“Vision? Whatever do you mean?” Rarity’s memory caught up with her mouth. “Wait a moment… You were the pony I saw when I touched the Crystal Heart!”

Cadence frowned. “You shouldn’t be this surprised. I’m the Princess of the Crystal Empire.”

Rarity shrugged.

“When I reclaimed my birthright, my energies were tied to those of the crystal artefacts. I thought you already knew that? After all, you summoned me with one recently.”

Rarity groped desperately for some part of the conversation to make sense. “There must have been a mistake. I never summoned anyone! I was merely trying to escape from those guards, and Applejack and I endeavoured to seize the Crystal Heart – I mean, I say ‘Crystal Heart’, that’s only what it looked like – and then I had this vision, and now I wake up here with you!”

She was painfully aware of how accusatory her tone was, and added, “Apologies. May we try again? I think this conversation missed a few steps…?”

Cadence smiled again and nodded, and it was striking how noble she looked even when she was nodding like an overeager pupil in class. Rarity, ever the loyal monarchist, felt a bone-deep urge to bend at the knees.

“Of course,” said Cadence breathlessly. “You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for something like this.”

“‘How long we’ve been waiting’? What do you mean? We only had the vision a little while ago, surely?”

“It’s not that. You’ve been missing from Equestria for a few days. Everyone – from the Princesses to your best friends – has been out searching as much of Equestria as possible.”

“‘A few days’!? I could have been sure it was only a few hours. Oh, poor Sweetie Belle! She’ll be worrying her mane off over me! Did she get back home safely? Who’s looking after her now?”

Then she saw the way Cadence avoided her eye. Icy suspicion stabbed into her heart.

“The crystal ponies kidnapped a few victims that day,” said the Princess softly. “They’d been active across Equestria for months, but no one ever got a clear view of who the kidnappers were. Well, until the Royal Guard saw you and Applejack chase one to the Cosmopolitan Crafts Centre, I mean. Without your help, we wouldn’t ever have gotten this far.”

“They… took… Sweetie Belle?” It came out as a whisper. The ghostly glow of the mist reflected back from her wide eyes. “But… But I never saw her. She can’t be here!”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know where she is. No one knows. I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”

Both of them stood in silence. Amid the chaos whipping at her thoughts and rushes of emotion, she wondered what they could possibly be standing on. Stars twinkled in the void.

I’ve been kidnapped. I’ve been kidnapped. She clasped onto the mantra like a lifebelt. Sweetie Belle is missing. I’ve been kidnapped.

“What kind of place IS this?” She hadn’t meant it to come out as a snap, but so much pressure was building up that she was struggling not to burst as it was.

“I can see you’re under a lot of stress.” Cadence breathed in and out. “Let me put it this way, then. You’re the artistic type, so you must have felt moments when your work is going smoothly, everything fits together just right, and the world is perfect. When you’re in the zone, it’s like a higher kind of experience. It takes you out of your daily life and into somewhere… ‘heavenly’, I guess?”

Rarity forced back the pressure long enough to hum agreeably. Afternoons sewing the dresses, channelling the muse through the horn and onto the page, not so much arranging the gemstones as helping them to do what needed to be done…

“Well, this place is that ‘heavenly’ spot. Ponies can catch glimpses of it if they’re concentrating on higher things like art and meditation and love, but to visit it, you need strong magic. And crystal magic is some of the strongest there is.”

“But I’m not a crystal pony. I’m not even a Princess!”

“You’re attuned to crystal magic. Look at your cutie mark.”

“I know, I know. Three diamonds. That’s only because I discovered the geode full of gemstones when I was a filly, and of course I saw their potential for the costumes, and I was right. They were resplendent when I’d finished with them.”

Cadence beamed at her, and looking up at that softened face, she briefly recalled Miss Pencil-Pusher’s own smile whenever she got a question right in class.

“The spell that helped you discover the inner beauty of that geode was no ordinary spell. Every artist, every philosopher, everyone who has ever done a kind deed or a noble act has gained the potential to reach this place. And, of course, you’ve been touched by the Crystal Heart’s magic already, along with everyone who was present when I claimed the empire. Frankly, it would have been surprising if you hadn’t had that crazy vision!”

Rarity tried to steady her head with a hoof. “I don’t think I can cope with much more of this.”

“Please, don’t worry.” Cadence placed a gentle hoof on her shoulder. Concern cushioned her words as she spoke. “We’re not bound by normal rules here. I’ll help you out as best I can, so don’t feel you have to rush into anything. Any questions you have, just ask me.”

“Would it be all right if I gave up and fainted right now?”

Cadence sighed. “I’ll give you some personal space. When you feel ready to talk, call my name. But you have no idea how much your friends miss you back home, and how incredible it is that we’ve managed to meet up like this. We can’t waste this opportunity to figure out what’s happened.”

She faded out. When Rarity yelped in shock, she faded back in.

“What? What!?”

“Sorry! Sorry!” Rarity wiped her face with a hoof and tried to breathe out the adrenalin rush. “It’s the whole weird-ghost-spirit thing. I have a thing about ponies acting like spooks. Not that you’re a spook, of course! Ahahaha…”

“Sorry. I’ll just, er… stand over there, OK?”

Rarity bowed, forced herself not to do so halfway through, grinned apologetically, and sat down hard enough to hurt her flank. She watched Cadence stride a few yards ahead and seat herself carefully on nothing, wings facing her.

Rarity! Compose yourself! You are in the presence of royalty. This is no time to act like a foal. Remember, always act with certainty and poise. You are you. Focus on what you know. That’s what Twilight would have said.

Despair lurked around the margins, but she forcibly turned her nose up and ignored it. She was Rarity. She was a dressmaker – no, the dressmaker of Ponyville, and now of Canterlot and Manehattan too. She’d been kidnapped, and so had poor Applejack, and perhaps her dear, sweet sister too.

NO ONE kidnaps Rarity, she of the rising star that is Carousel Boutique, she of the heroic six of Equestria, benefactor and artiste among artists! I’ll simply find out what I need to know, bide my time, plot and scheme if I must. Now, where am I, who else is here, and how do we escape?

For the moment, she swept all doubts aside. When she noticed a slight intensity in the glow, she glanced down. It was coming from her own body.

Rarity from a few seconds ago opened her mouth to cry out, but a newer Rarity – one made of diamond and stilettos – waved it away. If she didn’t think it was important, then it wasn’t.

“Your Highness,” she purred, “I believe we have an escape plan to discuss.”

Cadence flew over. “Wow. You’ve really been hard at work on yourself, haven’t you? I thought you really were going to faint.”

“Nonsense. A lady does not do anything so uncouth as to faint over a mere complication. However, I must insist we get to the point, as I might change my mind at a moment’s notice. Apologies in advance if I cackle uncontrollably.”

“Um… OK?”

Rarity cast her haughty gaze about the starry sky. “How soon can you come and find us?”

“I’m not sure. You said you’d touched the Crystal Heart, but it can’t be the real one. That’s been watched by the Crystal Empire the whole time, and it’s still locked in place under the palace.”

“Then there must be a replica. But this one was dark.”

Cadence rubbed her chin. “Hold on a moment. I'm sure I know this… Excuse me. This'll need some explaining.”

Her horn glowed, and at once a square floated into view before them. Like a window, it showed a different scene beyond, but there was little to see. Two Crystal Hearts floated on the screen; the right one was light and pulsed with blue flashes, but the left one was dark and seethed with red flames.

“The Crystal Heart and the Crystal Empire are connected. I remember Princess Celestia told me that, when combined as one, they’re a kind of cosmic keystone. The energy of the cosmos flows into and surrounds it as a pool, and so long as it flows, that keeps the entire world in balance. It can be a force for great good, or for great evil. You saw it yourself when the crystal ponies used the light within themselves to spread happiness and love across the land.”

“Are you saying there’s another one out there just like it?”

Despite herself, Rarity smirked at the bewildered look this earned her. Obviously, Cadence had been building up for the reveal. However, the Princess was quick enough to recover, and gracious enough to give a smiling nod.

“Right. From the days of the Great Crystal Empire, when it stretched from the north pole to the south pole –”

“That would naturally mean one Crystal Heart for each pole, would it not?” Under the cool gaze, Rarity blushed and added, “Sorry. Carry on.”

“I’m not sure what the connection is between the two Hearts,” said Cadence. “But if you are at the south pole, then an escape plan is going to be tricky. No one knows much about what it’s like south of Equestria, and even the fastest pegasus would need a few days to reach the Frozen South. We don’t even know where precisely the southern Crystal Heart would be.”

Cracks ran through Rarity’s self-confidence. Although she ventured a smile, the thing quivered and twitched and any moment would bolt back down her throat.

“You can get here?” she said.

“We’ll do what we can, I promise, but until then you’re going to have to fend for yourselves.” Cadence looked away. “I’m sorry I can’t be of much use.”

“Yes, but you located me this way when I touched the Heart. Surely, if I were able to make contact with it again –”

“NO! Don’t even think about it!” Cadence’s glare evaporated. “I mean, it nearly killed you just now. There’s no way I can ask you to take that risk again.”

Rarity waited until the shock wore off. Shouting was not going to stop the cracks from growing into fractures.

She breathed out hard. “I thought you said you were connected to the crystal artefacts, yes? Shouldn’t you already know where we are, then? How did you find me, anyway?”

“It was only a brief contact. I didn’t even realize what had happened until it was over, and by then it was too late to trace you. Anyway, this place isn’t going to help. You were here first. You summoned me, after all.”

“Yesyesyesyesyes,” said Rarity, flapping a foreleg airily. “Nevertheless, if there is a way, any way at all you could trace… I don’t know, my cosmic energy or some such thing… then all you’d have to do is follow it.”

The screen hurled itself away and vanished into the mist.

“And may we speak somewhere else for a change? I mean no offence, but that mist is way too garish, and the acoustic effect loses its charm after the first few minutes.”

Cadence strode forwards. In the manner of a general about to address her troops, she about-turned and frowned down at her new recruit.

“I can see we have a lot to discuss about crystal magic,” she said. “Very well. Since we’ve got time, I’d like to help you understand where I’m coming from.”

“It won’t work, will it?” Rarity hung her head.

“I’m saying it might work,” continued Cadence, “but before you settle on that plan, you might want to know exactly what you’re getting into.”

Uh oh, thought Rarity. The fractures began to crumble, and as they did so, the world around her began to swirl.

Sitting on the cold floor of the chamber, Applejack reached up for the hat she knew would not be there. Overhead, Officer Feldspar prattled on and on about merchandising rights, but she heard nothing except the rough outline of the odd word.

To her right, the ice block taunted her with its mere existence. She glanced up at the frozen faces, trying to project as much comfort as she could. If they’d been encased like she’d been, then they’d know exactly what was going on right now.

Right. Jus’ ‘cause Ah can’t really do nothin’, don’t mean Ah get to be pushed around. Ah’ll figure somethin’ out. Ah’ll watch this monster like a hawk, an’ she better be good, ‘cause if there’s so much as an inch, Ah’m grabbin’ a foot, and then Ah’m pulling the whole leg.

“Don’t worry,” cut in the chirpy voice. “You won’t be alone out there. Every champion gets their own little helpers and teammates to keep them from going ka-boom. I’ve procured one of the best fashion designers to make your new costume, for starters.”

“Rarity?” Applejack looked up sharply, but the smirk read her mind.

“No, not that one. Honestly, what’s the deal between you two? There are other ponies besides the special unicorn, you know.”

“Look, if Ah’m goin’ to do any o’ your dirty work, then Ah wanna make a few things clear.” Applejack thumped one hoof onto another like fist on palm. “One: Ah’m callin’ the shots ‘ere. You ain’t micro-managin’ nothin’, you get me?”

“Oh really?” The smirk widened; it was amazing how many teeth a pony could show. “And why’s that?”

“‘Cause Ah reckon you know who Ah am, an’ you know how much Ah’m worth to whoever the hay wants to watch this fightin’ stuff. You said it yerself; Ah’m a hero. That means you’re bankin’ on me as some kind of big piece o’ resistance, aincha?”

Amusement over, the smirk hid behind tight lips. “You mean like that tatty hat we dragged off your head? Interesting point, if a bit cheeky. And if your choices don’t happen to fit the fad of the moment, then what?”

“You mean you took some designer who can’t make whatever Ah say work?”

“I didn’t say that. Still, it’s not as if it matters. Try whatever you want. It’s just clothes, after all.”

Yet the Officer’s eyes twitched for a moment, and Applejack fought to keep her own smug impulse behind a solid wall. One point to AJ, she thought.

Behind the ice block and the cannon, Peccary shifted uncomfortably from one hoof to another. Now that Applejack focused on them, the grizzled, gnarly faces seemed slightly more twisted than usual. They’re nervous. Ah can smell it reekin’ off of ‘em.

“It’s not as if introductions are going to be tricky,” continued Officer Feldspar, who disappeared and reappeared with another squeak of axles. “Coco Pommel is a close friend of yours, isn’t she?”

Now the nervousness hit her snout and wracked her brains, but it wasn’t coming from the pigs. Bits of her went cold. A dam broke inside her head.

“Now, see here,” she said, rising up on sheer fury. “Takin’ me an’ Rarity is a bridge too far, but this… this is evil. Li’l’ kids an’… an’ Coco ain’t much better! For Pete’s sake, you stole Apple Bloom an’ Sweetie Belle away when they was only wantin’ to watch a nice show with family! That’s messed up something fierce! An’ Coco goes to pieces over community get-togethers! An’ that was after she stopped bein’ bullied by that crook, Suri Polomare. You can't just treat innocent ponies like toys!”

A yelp: Applejack fell back clutching her leg. Something stabbed right down to the bone. Under her one good forelimb, the ring crackled.

“Perhaps it’s about time I explained a few things to you,” said the chirpy voice, a drop of sunshine through a sea of pain. “You think some righteous shouting is going to bowl me over and bite my flank sooner or later, don’t you? Spent one too many summers beating up bad guys to think nothing bad will ever happen to you. Am I right?”

“Apple Bloom…” She almost cracked her teeth trying to force out that much.

“We’re not playing that game anymore. The Great Crystal Empire was the only political body to ever control the north and the south at the same time, and that’s because crystal magic is the most powerful force the planet has ever known. Even the technology the unicorns use – the Tree of Harmony, enchanted tomes, electric cells, the ice pools, the magic mirrors – all of it was crystal pony technology. It was created by us, it was nourished with our help, and then it was stolen from us.”

Applejack tried to beat the pain out of her leg, but colder parts of her snatched at the words and pinned them down. Twilight went on about something like this. One of them books had all these theories an’ ideas about how magic was ranked, or something like that. Weren’t there a table involved?

“And since the Crystal Empire has been held back for a thousand years,” continued Officer Feldspar, whose chirp had deepened to a smug rumble, “we’ve had more than enough time to surge ahead. My house abolished that old-fashioned system of Emperors and Kings and Princesses long ago. There are kids on the street who have more power in their dolls than your precious Princesses have in their whole bodies. So if you still think you have a chance against such awesomely wow-tastic stuff, you’re kidding yourself.”

Eventually, Applejack straightened up and faced the desk again. Above her, the empty howl of the endless cylinder stared down at her sweating back. She blew a few errant strands out of her face.

“Ah got no reason to believe a word you say, you hear?” she said. “Ah got a good idea how this works. There ain’t nothin’ left to chance. You hold my kin and my friends up an’ say ‘Do what Ah say or they get it real good’, an’ that’ll get me to do what you want for a bit. But you know Ah’ll be lookin’ for anythin’, anythin’ whatsoever to slug you one for that. This is jus’ you gettin’ in my mind and tryin’ to break my spirit.”

Nothing met this but the unrelenting smirk. She almost slugged the Officer there and then.

“Say that like you mean it, and I might believe you.” Officer Feldspar tapped the desk impatiently. “I never had this problem with Suri, I’ll say that much. Then again, she’s got the right idea.”

“Eat or be eaten, is that it?”

Peccary shook his neck down, and great folds of fur rippled down to his shoulders.

“Yep,” said the Officer.

“You never heard o’ the magic o’ friendship, aincha?”

“Don’t try and impress me with that malarkey. That was nothing more than crystal pony magic stolen from crystal pony inventors. I’d like to see you try it without those precious crystal Elements to help you.”

This time, it was Applejack’s turn to smirk. “Say it like you mean it, an’ Ah might believe you.”

“Yawn. Make all the ironic echoes you want. No one will even be able to find you without knowledge of crystal artefacts, and our only real competitors fell behind a millennium ago. Your only chance is to do what I say. No pressure.”

Peccary narrowed his eyes at her and stiffened back to attention. Beyond the blue stillness of the ice, she focused once more on Apple Bloom’s wide mouth, and almost heard the unheard scream.

“Ah’m listenin’,” she said. “Tell me more about this team.”

Grey clouds sulked in a pastel sky. The ghosts of skyscrapers lurked just outside the tissue-thin mist, while at their feet the maples and pines crouched and smothered the ground. Flecks of snow wandered haphazardly through the air and reached the ground simply by accident. Only the Oval at the centre was clear, and even that was deathly pale with snow. Although deep pits showed where foals had hopped through the drifts, no one was around now.

The snowflakes stopped. Two spectres fizzed and jolted, and then flashed into existence. One blinked and shook herself down, while the other, much taller one strode forwards.

Rarity snapped back to attention.

“Wait a minute!” she said. “This is the Great Lawn Oval! We’re in Manehattan. Where’s the fundraiser?”

“I’m afraid it’s been and gone, Rarity. Not that you missed much, believe me. We spent most of the time trying to find clues and work out who else was missing.” Cadence sat down on the snow before her, going right through it as though it weren’t there.

Rarity started turning green at the sight. “Who else was missing?”

“Apart from you, Applejack, and Sweetie Belle, we can’t account for Apple Bloom, Coco Pommel, Suri Polomare, or Trenderhoof. One of my unicorn friends from Canterlot also went missing, called Minuette, but I don’t know if you’ve ever met her.”

“Minuette? Of course. I met her when she visited Ponyville years ago. She told me she used to be pressured into becoming a dancing instructor, but then she found her calling in timekeeping and clockwork design. And her best friend is Twinkleshine. And, I might add, she tends to be a bit too quick with a camera! When we had our first tea party together, she nearly blinded me with it!”

Cadence smiled. “That’s the one. Boy, you really know your unicorns, don’t you?”

“Noblesse oblige.” Rarity flicked her mane with a hoof. It didn’t matter that her mane was an uncoiled mass of locks. The important thing was that she got the effect right.

“If you say so…” Cadence shook the confusion out of her head. “If you can find any trace of the other ponies, please let me know as soon as possible. Once our conversation is over here, I’ll organize a rescue party to come find you, but I’d rather know exactly what kind of supplies we’ll need to take. This isn’t going to be a simple journey, after all.”

Rarity stared out at the distant squares of shadow, occasionally pausing to admire a snowflake poised in midair. Only she knew there was going to be a rescue at all, and in the meantime there were going to be days before it even arrived. She’d barely been awake when Applejack had faced that crystal pony with the strange device. A vast ocean of ignorance stretched out before her.

“How do I get you to follow me again?” she said.

“Touch any crystal artefact you can find, and I should be able to triangulate using that. The more crystals you touch, and the stronger they are, the better I can narrow it down. Just be careful what you touch, OK? Anything corrupted is going to hurt you, or worse.”

Rarity frowned, and tried to focus on the words from before. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why does it have to be me? Why not Applejack?”

“Because you have something Applejack doesn’t. You have an affinity with the crystals. I’ve already told you about the special magic that led you to the geode when you were a filly. And the evidence is there on your cutie mark.”

“Lots of unicorns have strange magical surges when they’re young. Besides, I’ve met dozens of ponies with gemstones for cutie marks.”

“Rarity, haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been telling you!?” Cadence paced up and down, glowering at the snow. “This isn’t about material gemstones or unicorn magic! The higher realm opens to those who are willing and able to find it. You were in touch with the realm because, even at a very young age, you weren’t satisfied with material things.”

“You do know me, don’t you?” Rarity blanched at the glower turned onto her, and spluttered in sheer self-defence. “What? I’m the most material pony I know. Even I can’t deny that.”

“But you are also one of the most spiritual, and that is exactly what I mean. There is light and darkness in everyone, but both are strong inside you. Half of you wants to hoard gems for your own selfish ends, and half of you wants to share their beauty and raise the spirits of others to higher things.”

“Um… I don’t know whether to be flattered by that, or insulted.”

“Either way, it’s the truth.” Now Cadence sat down, and she stretched a forelimb and took a deep breath before continuing. “If you’re going to stay in touch with your spiritual side, you’ll need to understand how crystal magic works. The strength of the artefact is important, but so is the inner strength of whoever’s using it.”

Rarity lowered her head and watched the glitter on the snow. “Am I going to have to be extremely generous to someone?”

“Not unless you really mean it. Listen, the cosmic energy doesn’t just stop at the north and south poles where the Crystal Hearts lie. Lines of cosmic energy flow from the poles and through the minerals of the earth like rivers and canals connecting to each other. Have you ever wondered why crystal balls are used to predict the future? Or why quartz used to be called ‘light-stone’? Did you know that ice is another crystal, and it gives its magical properties to water and vapour too?”

“Oh, I heard about all that guff from Fluttershy. That’s merely New Age pablum.” Rarity bit her tongue and added hastily, “Or so I heard, ahahaha.”

“Not quite. Fluttershy has it exactly right. Since ancient times, ponies have known about the healing powers of different types of gemstone. Even metals and salts can act as focal points for the rivers of energy. Anywhere the structure of a thing is regular and orderly and perfect, cosmic energy can flow through it and soften the rules of real life. All the magical species have these things in their bodies somewhere. That’s the essence of magic.”

Rarity hummed to herself. “Is this what you have to learn to become a Princess?”

Cadence offered a sly smile. “Let’s just say you’re getting the insider’s scoop on magic. It's necessary to clear the air a bit. Just don’t tell Twilight anything I’ve told you. She’ll go nuts if she finds out I could’ve told her the whole time.”

“So why don’t you tell her?”

“Come on. You know Twilight well. Can’t you guess?”

Rarity returned the smile. “Of course, dear Twilight wouldn’t want anyone to spoil the surprise for her before she could work it out herself. She does so love her magical studies. How very… generous of you.”

After a wink, Cadence straightened up and stretched her wings. “Well, I think I’ve told you everything you need to know: go back to the Frozen South; find the other missing ponies; touch as many strong artefacts as you can until we come to rescue you. Other than that, just focus on staying alive.”

Yes. “Where am I? Who else is here? And how do we escape?” That’s three out of three answered. Rarity sighed and stared out across the desolate wonderland of snow and shadows.

“Such beauty! I could stay here forever,” she moaned.

Every shadow darkened. The silhouettes of the skyscrapers soaked into the world and faded to black, and snow melted away before the encroaching void. Stars flickered into life. Once more, the night sky swallowed them both and left them floating over the luminescent mist.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice. “I guess I can’t, can I?”

Cadence leapt to her hooves, horn lowered at the darkness around her.

“Princess! What’s the matter?” Words echoed in the emptiness.

“That change wasn’t my doing.” Cadence’s horn burned with a low flame. “Something else is trying to control us. How close are you to the southern Crystal Heart?”

Rarity chewed her lip. “I haven’t the foggiest. Not too far? Why?”

“If it’s corrupted, then the dark energies will be at their strongest near the Heart. We can’t stay for much longer. I’m sending you back. Now.”

“Waitwaitwait!” Stars began to wink out around her, but she fought to stop the panic leaping into her voice. “If the Heart itself is corrupted, then what if every gem I find is corrupted too?”

“I can’t help you there. NO!”

At once, the darkness snapped around the glowing mist, and Cadence’s horn blazed. Margins around them quaked and flexed as both the interminable darkness and the solid light struggled.

“Jus’…” Cadence fought to speak between clenched teeth. “Jus’ go now!”

“One more thing, one more thing, that’s it!” Rarity lost control of the squeak shooting up her throat. Under the gravitational pull of sheer horror, she stared up at the nothingness. “What the heck kind of place is the Frozen South?”

“No one knows… too isolated…”

But it was too late. The Princess tried and failed to stop the panic in her eyes. Sweat beaded her forehead.

Then she swung round and fired a shot at Rarity just before the tides of darkness rushed in and crashed.

Intro: Welcome to Antipodean City

View Online

“Rarity… Rarity! Get up now! Please get up.”

Rarity snorted, and then realized someone was shaking her. Drool had glued her cheek to the pillow. She winced at the slight sticking sound when she raised her head.

Beside her stood Applejack, or rather two of her. Rarity blinked, and the concerned faces melded into one again.

“Owwwww,” she moaned, rubbing her forehead. It felt like her own horn turning around to impale her brain. “Where am I this time?”

She glanced down at her leg. While the rest of her moaned and braced itself, her inner critic boiled with outrage.

“Ugh! What is this? Who put this travesty of a ring on me? It doesn’t even match my coat.”

Applejack breathed again. “At least you’re OK, then.”

“Is it those kidnappers? What do they want with us?” Then she noticed the hairy shape lurking by Applejack’s knotted tail. “Is that –?”

“His name’s Peccary. He’s kinda sorta our bodyguard, an’ then again, he’s kinda like our parole officer guy. Look, he can understand what we’re sayin’, got it? Don’t do anythin’ y’all regret, an’ we’ll be fine.”

Rarity hesitated for a moment. Her mind was still trying to force her back to sleep, and big hairy pigs with a mouth full of murder weapons were not her immediate concern right now. She swung herself off the bed and hit the hard floor.

“We are in the Frozen South, are we not?” she snapped.

Applejack gaped at her. “Y-Yes, that’s right. But how in the hay did you know that?”

“I have brains, Applejack. We’ve been kidnapped for some crystal pony’s nefarious purpose. The crystal guards, the dark Crystal Heart, this” – she waved the leg dismissively, and the ring bit into her skin for a moment – “scandalously hideous device all add up to crystal pony, and since we’re not in the Frozen North, that doesn’t leave very many options.”

“It’s worse than you think…”

“I daresay we shall pick it up as we go along, shall we not?”

“What?”

Soaring on the winds of outraged hauteur and the aches of too many hours sleeping on her side, Rarity rounded on the pig. It froze under the gaze of two burning sapphires, which were trying to laser-shot their way into his skull.

“And I must say I don’t think much of the quality of their treatment. The Crystal Empire was a paradise of art and hallowed cultural sophistication. It most certainly was not some buried dump populated by scruffy pigs that smell like garbage.”

When she turned away, the pig frowned and sniffed its own pit.

“Very well. Since one is going to be a prisoner for some hostile party or parties unknown, one might as well make the most of it. You, Piggary” – her leg cracked like a whip, and the pig hastily stopped sniffing – “I demand better accommodation and a bed that you cannot crack rocks off of. Now that’s not a difficult request, is it?”

Helplessly, the pig glanced at Applejack, who was still trying to work it out under her breath.

“Um… Rarity? He was goin’ to move us to better digs anyway.”

Hauteur tripped and fell with a smack onto the ground… only to shoot back up again, braced and angry. Rarity stopped staring and instead flicked her locks with a hoof.

“Excellent. Well done, that pig. I’m glad to see someone is on top of things. Applejack, I believe we have much to discuss. Shall we?”

Shrugging, Applejack fell in beside her. Up ahead, the pig took them to the hexagon, and the platform jolted in preparation. Around them, the walls and the exit floated upwards.

Rarity grimaced. She couldn’t keep the act up for too long, but the trick was to find new things to get angry about.

“Such a quaint way to travel,” she said while another doorway rose past and then continued upwards. “So what was happening while I was out?” she said.

“Uh… they want us to entertain ‘em,” said Applejack, in the slow, careful voice of one leaning over a cliff to see how far down it goes. “We’re gonna be kinda famous, apparently.”

Rarity turned a glower on her friend. Part of her hated to do it, but Applejack was bad at being dishonest. She’d always tried to find ways around it, which was fine with Rarity since the farmer pony was usually bad at doing that too.

“Entertain them how, exactly?” she said.

“Look, it’s really not nice. Ah don’t wanna have to tell you this, ‘cause Ah’m not sure we ain’t in a nightmare or somethin’. Can’t we talk about it later?”

“Meaning we’re not expected to do a little sing-song and a waltz, I suppose?”

Applejack blushed. “Trust me, you don’t wanna know.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Under her hooves, she felt the platform shudder to a stop. “They’re not going to make us play country music, are they?”

“No. An’ there ain’t nothin’ wrong with country music! Come on. We gotta meet the team leader for initiatin’.”

All three of them stepped out onto a wide floor. That was about all they could discern, because the rest of the room was dark. Someone giggled in the gloom.

“Uh…” said Applejack, “who turned the lights out?”

“Is this where we’re supposed to meet the leader?” Rarity snorted. “I don’t think much of their welcoming committee.”

Lights flicked on. Someone shouted, “Surprise! Welcome to the team, happy campers!”

They stood at the end of an aisle of stalls. The shape was that of a stable, but everything – every post, every swinging doorway, even every blade of hay on the ground – gleamed and shone and bent at sharp angles. Along the walls, head-sized gemstones were embedded into the milky surface, one for every stall, and no two were the same colour.

That was just background, however. Balloons floated all over the place. Scattered among the hay and raining down from the ceiling were rainbow confetti pieces. What looked like a wedding cake towered over them in the middle of the room. And kneeling at the foot of it, yellow shirt slightly askew and bushy brown mane bobbing against each nod of the long neck and head, a gangly earth pony blew a party-popper and grinned.

He spat it out and squinted at their stares. “Hey. Haven’t I seen you two before? Oh, that’s right! You’re from Ponyville. Applejack and Rarity. Remember the time I came into town, and me and Pinkie Pie threw Rainbow Dash a birthday party? How is Pinkie Pie these days, anyway? Oh, oh, how’s Boneless doing? I heard he got turned into a key or something, the little rascal gets into all sorts of scrapes, couldn’t tie him down with an iron chain and a padlock, but you can’t trust what you hear through the grapevine these days. Now, the grape juice on the other hand is never a disappointment. We got some over there. Help yourselves!”

Rarity’s jaw worked up and down for the appropriate expletive.

Then she heard Applejack spit out the name, “Cheese Sandwich?”

“I know, right? I was as surprised as you. There I was, trundling along on my newly named Partymobile, and then BAM! These crystal killjoys jumped me on the road to Dodge Junction.”

“My word,” Rarity managed to say.

Cheese Sandwich’s mane drooped, and as though deflated the rest of him slumped where he sat. Idly, he raised a leg and removed the party-popper, holding it balanced on his hoof like a cigar.

“My word indeed, Rarity. That poor filly never got her super-awesome-tastic cute-ceañera. And the worst of the worst is, I had the Hippity-Hop Hippo Hopping Hot Pursuit specially tailored and prepared for that dear young soul. Truly, we live in dark times.” He stuck the party-hopper between his teeth and puffed moodily. The thing squeaked.

Etiquette came to her rescue; Rarity bowed her head low in sympathy. “I’m terribly sorry to hear about that, Mister Sandwich. Is there anything we can do to help?”

“Actually, I’m here to help you.” Cheese Sandwich bounced back onto his hooves and returned the bow. “You’ll find there are lots of poor ponies snapped up and smuggled back here for evil purposes, but – says I – look on the bright side. Some of them might be long-lost friends reuniting again. Look at us! We finally got to meet up after who-knows-how-long! How neat is that?”

Rarity and Applejack exchanged looks.

“Ahem,” said Rarity, “you were going to grant us an initiation into your team?”

“Ah, rightrightright.” Cheese Sandwich threw his forelimbs about into a complex attempt at a salute. Presumably for emphasis, he blew into the party-popper again. “Hokay then, ter-roops, this his the first day of the rest hof your lives. Hyou are now part of Team Rosebud –”

“Team… Rosebud?” said Applejack.

“Hthat is hwhat I said, soll-jah!” Cheese leaned forwards and whispered behind his hoof, “Hey, I didn’t name it. Crystal ponies gotta take an interest in something besides crystals, right? HOKAY!”

Both of them winced at the shout. Their captain strode over to a table, upon which lay a selection of treats and goodies. With a swipe, he swept a few plates aside to clear a space. They couldn’t look over his back or see what he was doing.

Rarity whispered, “Tell me, do you think we’ll end up like him?”

The sheer terror of the thought grabbed Applejack’s scalp and squeezed until her face stretched. Behind them both, the pig wheezed a chuckle.

“Bear with me a moment, please.” Ignoring her frozen friend, Rarity stepped smartly forwards, tapped Cheese Sandwich on the shoulder, and didn’t even flinch when he rounded on her with hooves full of barding.

Where did he just get that? There was nothing on or under the table a moment ago.

“You’re not serious!” She curled her lip at the armour.

“What? It’s traditional, and if you smear a bit of oil where the polite ponies aren’t going to see it, you’ll barely feel the chafing. Besides, when you’re out there in the arena, it’s better if you have some kind of protection –”

“Do I have to wear that?” she snapped.

Cheese Sandwich stuttered and mumbled and looked about for any sign of escape, but her glare eventually melted its way through and he shrugged helplessly. “Well no, but –”

“Then I decline. Right. That’s all perfectly satisfactory and settled, now isn’t it?”

“Er… is it?”

His eyes were so shiny and wide that she felt her flames simmer down. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so brusque and rude. It’s just… today has not been a good day. I just want to know when we can get this charade over with.”

“Not even the helmet?”

Rarity gave it a glance. It was glittery. Too glittery for her liking.

“I’m afraid not. But I will have a slice of that delicious-looking cake, since you’ve clearly gone to a lot of trouble to make us feel welcome.” For good measure, she patted him kindly on the shoulder. “I hope they’ve been treating you well.”

To her relief, the smile returned to his face. “Oh, the treatment’s fine here, once you get past the whole ‘getting kidnapped for slavery’ thing. I forget sometimes how… big it feels on the first day. One slice of cake coming up. And one for you AJ? How about you, strange pig I’ve never met before?”

Both of them gave a start at being roped in. Applejack murmured her assent, and the pig grunted.

“Fantastic! Here you go.”

Rarity graciously levitated her plate from the top of his head, and nibbled the icing. Sugar trickled down her tongue and into her throat like the warm glow of fresh tea. She fought to keep a dignified expression on her face, but Cheese Sandwich could rival Pinkie Pie for culinary temptation.

It almost amused her when both Applejack and the pig let their plates go on the floor, and then simply chomped the cake in one go. It’ll save time, at least.

“Dish shtuff’sh gud,” murmured Applejack through her mouthful. She swallowed. “So what now?”

“Well, I was going to see how you looked in your armour, but since we’re not doing that now” – Cheese Sandwich shrugged and beckoned them to follow him – “time to introduce you to Antipodean City!”

He led them to the double doors opposite. Still levitating her cake, and plucking a fork from the table, Rarity followed. Behind her, Applejack and the pig scurried to keep up.

“Oh, you guys are going to love this place! It’s a gem! Literally, in some places!”

“Wait a minute,” said Applejack, almost in Rarity’s ear. “Officer Feldspar’s jus’ gonna let us wander aroun’ the city? Jus’ like that?”

“Why wouldn’t she?” Cheese Sandwich pressed a hoof against the doors. “No one’s ever escaped from Antipodean City, and the Officer can stop us whenever she likes. There’s guards, those ring things, the pigs…”

Cake splattered the floor as the pig took a passing bite out of it. They heard him squeal in delight.

“Besides, you’re gonna be famous here! Don’t you wanna live the life while you still can, huh? Huh? Behold!”

He kicked the doors open. Rarity and Applejack gasped.

“Say hello,” shouted Cheese, “to Antipodean City!”

Everything above the horizon was darkness, fringed with the distant lights of torches against rockface. Below that, however, stood the city. Torchlights dotted the main avenues. Constellations of streets and plazas stretched and curled and ran in lines and zigzagged across the blackness. Jagged, faceted towers rose high enough to rival skyscrapers, tubes and vines strung between them, while down below searchlights and spotlights flashed on and waved up and down.

More lights flicked on. Overhead, upside-down towers hung from the ceiling like grotesque stalactites. Diamonds floated all around them, pulsing with white lights. Every building seemed to be made from obsidian or jet. Occasionally, a flare shot up or down from random spires, some pink, some green, some purple, some red.

In the centre, hemmed in by a circle of patchwork crops and another circle of crystal cottages lost like pebbles amid mountains, acting as the focus of a giant red star with six points, the crystal palace was a spike of ash amid crimson embers. Pulsing underneath it was the black Crystal Heart.

“That’s…” Applejack swallowed.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Cheese Sandwich elbowed her in the ribs.

Rarity realized she was gaping, and shut her mouth at once. “It looks like Tartarus crossed with Manehattan. Yet… it does have a sort of infernal urbanity, doesn’t it?”

“Infernal urbanity… ha! I couldn’t have put it better myself. I can tell you are going to love this place. Come on! Wait until you see where you’re staying!”

They took the avenue single-file. In the lead, Cheese Sandwich hummed and skipped to a tune only he recognized. Behind him, Rarity blushed at the stares she was getting from the crystal ponies, and that was where she began to feel the odd dark charm of the place stutter and die. Every pony was dull and held their heads low to the ground. Manes oozed like oily cascades. Polygonal pupils looked away as soon as she focused on them.

Applejack scurried to walk alongside her. “It’s jus’ like the Crystal Empire, remember? Before the Princess freed it with the Crystal Heart?”

Rarity coughed and took a small bite of cake. This probably isn’t a good time, but since she introduced the subject…

“Applejack, this is going to sound very peculiar and unlikely, but, um, well… after I touched that dark Heart, I, um, had a kind of vision. Of Princess Cadence, actually.”

She refused to meet Applejack’s eye. It sounded crazy even to her, and besides, she simply could not stop casting a critical look at the shameful way the crystal ponies had taken care of their coats. It was as if dandy brushes didn’t exist here.

“Rarity, come on,” said Applejack. “Ah don’t think you’re lyin’. Why would Ah? We’re friends, ain’t we? An’ ain’t you learned by now all kinds of kooky things happen to us practically every week? You can tell me.”

Rarity released a breath. “To put it bluntly, we’re going to be rescued.”

“Really!?” Applejack’s voice rose. “That’s great!”

“Shhh! Keep your voice down.”

Both of them glanced back at the narrowed eyes of the pig. They tossed it two cheesy grins and looked forwards again.

“But not yet,” Rarity continued in an undertone. “We’re in the Frozen South. It’ll take days before Princess Cadence reaches us.”

“How did she know where we were, then? Ain’t they been huntin’ down the kidnappers for ages with no luck?”

Rarity briefly saw a future in which she was trying to explain how special she was to someone like Applejack, who unironically called herself a humble pony farmer. In desperation, she shrugged and blushed.

“I couldn’t say. Perhaps they got lucky? It doesn’t matter. The point is they know where we are and can get us out.”

“Ah dunno, Rarity.” Applejack watched the nearest group of crystal ponies gasp at them and scurry away. “Ah met the leader who runs this place. That Officer Feldspar seemed pretty confident we ain’t bustin’ outta here.”

“Who’s Officer Feldspar?”

“Good question!” barked Cheese Sandwich between them.

By the time they both stopped howling, Cheese had already jumped into the lead again and was walking backwards to talk. Rarity's plate smashed on the gleaming street, scattering the icing.

“Feldspar is the head of the Company here. She makes all the cool gadgets and gizmos, and everybody’s the better off for it! Did you know that, since the Company began making Cure-All Healing Crystals, everyone now gets to live for centuries instead of just a few decades? Best lifespan in the world ever!”

A glowing diamond hummed over their heads.

“And that,” said Cheese, pointing, “is a Diamond-Tight Security Bite! They can see, hear, smell, and even taste anything they want. This place has the best security systems in the world. You couldn’t sneak a carrot cake crumb in here without the Bites catching a whiff of it!”

“But they’re all over the place!” Rarity watched as it zipped away over the rooftops and spires.

“Exactly! Cheap, affordable, and available for the whole family! Isn’t this place neat? And it’s all because Feldspar can do exactly what she wants, whenever she wants!”

A pair of crystal guards strode past. For a moment, both helmets turned to watch them, slitted green eyes aglow. Applejack didn’t stop glaring until the pair vanished into the crowd.

“What happens now, may I ask?” said Rarity. She didn’t like the intensity of her friend’s glare.

“You’re replacing our last two guys, so Team Rosebud has to go through a preliminary game.” Cheese Sandwich “puffed” on the party-popper again, and he narrowed his eyes. “Let’s just hope Team Backstabbers aren’t involved.”

“Nice name,” muttered Applejack. “Why would they be involved?”

“They’re favourites. Everybody loves them, so they get dibs on testing the new recruits.”

“Except you ain’t a fan o’ theirs, Ah take it?”

“They’re the reason we don’t have our last two guys anymore.”

Rarity grimaced. Up until now, it had sounded almost too good to be true. “Oh, I am sorry to hear that. Were they disqualified?”

They walked a few more steps in silence until the doubts began to creep into her mind. She coughed awkwardly.

“I hope they’re not too badly injured?” she tried.

The silence, if anything, became sharper.

“Wounded?” she squeaked.

“Hasn’t Officer Feldspar briefed you yet?” muttered Cheese Sandwich, and there was steel in his growl. “Or you makin’ fun o’ me, kid?”

“Applejack?” whispered Rarity, trying not to plea and failing badly.

“She din’t mean nothin’,” said Applejack quickly. “She jus’ ain’t been briefed yet. Ah was the only one there. Ah ain’t tol’ her yet.”

“Hmm.” Cheese shuffled the party-popper in his mouth. “If it keeps her happy, I s’pose. Trus’ me, you’ll need all the happiness you can get here.”

“Sorry,” murmured Rarity. She still wasn’t sure what she was apologizing for, though possibly because she was trying to push aside the bit of her mind shrieking the answer. She tried to focus on that bit, either forcing an answer out or closing it in.

Behind them, the pig sniffed at Applejack’s tail.

“Ah, here we are,” said Cheese with false cheeriness. He stopped so suddenly they almost cannoned into him.

Rarity’s mind snapped back into place. “What, this dump?”

It was, to put it politely, a block with a door on the front. A crystal block, to be sure – its facets gleamed under the torchlight like obsidian – but still, basically, a block.

“Chin up!” said Cheese. “It’s nice and homey, and if we pass the qualifier, we’ll end up somewhere a bit bigger.”

He knocked on the door. The handle fell off.

At once, a panel slid back, two pairs of eyes peeked out, and the thing slid shut again before they had time to register it. Then the entire door split in the middle, and both sides ground their way into the wall.

Applejack gasped.

“Morning, afternoon, evening, and night, friends!” said Flim.

“It looks like we all know each other here, brother,” said Flam cheerfully.

Shaking, Applejack raised a hoof. “You…”

“But that’s all by-the-by, of course,” continued Flim, who raised his own hoof. A device glistened on the end.

“You!” Before Rarity could stop her, Applejack lunged forwards, but the device met her chest and held her at bay. Flim, horn aglow, yawned.

“Don’t be alarmed!” Flam made frantic cutting motions around his neck. “Circumstances are different this time! Let bygones be bygones! And don’t forget who saved who from before, remember?”

“Hello Flim,” said Cheese dully. “Flam. ‘Fixing’ someone else’s Partymobile?”

Applejack stopped struggling against the thing on her chest and rounded on him. “You know these guys?”

“Well, they called themselves Straight and Narrow at the time, and they were wearing false beards, but yes, yes I know these guys. They sold me the Partymobile that fell apart halfway to Dodge Junction. Applejack, Rarity, meet your team engineers and look on the bright side of life.”

Flim lowered the device. “You’ll be pleased to know we’re working on something big that’ll make sure you survive your preliminary match tomorrow.”

Rarity’s ears stiffened. “‘Survive’?”

“We can work out the details later,” said Flam, waving a hoof to the stairs beside them. “Please, take some time out. You’ll need your strength for all that combat tomorrow.”

Beside her, Applejack groaned.

Rarity’s eye twitched. “‘Combat’?”

“Come on, Rarity,” said Applejack quickly, seizing her by the leg and steering her unresisting corpse – which, by staggering coincidence, she was fast resembling – towards the stairs. “Ah think some rest and relaxation’ll do us some good.”

“See you tomorrow for the deathmatch!” shouted Cheese after them.

The door slammed, shutting out the landing lights and plunging them into semi-darkness. Only the smoked glass windows opposite let in a cold blue glow from the tower nearby. Occasionally, a searchlight flared across the glass.

Rarity stared at nothing for a long time. She didn’t even remember hearing Applejack speak. All she remembered afterwards was the tableau: the two beds on either side; the bedside tables barely fit only for holding an alarm clock each; and the bare crystalline floor like an ice rink.

“‘Deathmatch’?” she breathed.

“Come on, Rarity.” Applejack placed a hoof delicately on her shoulder. “Let’s get some sleep. You’ll be ready for it in the mornin’. Trust me.”

Outside their door, the pig grunted and sniffed.

“We’ll get out o’ here,” whispered Applejack. “Remember? We jus’ need to last long enough for the rescue to get here.”

“Applejack…”

“Ah swear, we can do it. We’ve gotten out of scrapes an’ fights before.”

“Applejack…”

Rarity swallowed. The pit opened up before her. Her lungs began to strain. Dots appeared in her vision. It was a while before she realized the room wasn’t shaking: she was.

“Don’t worry,” said Applejack quickly. “Ah know where Sweetie Belle is. She ain’t gonna be involved in this. Ah know it. But…”

Rarity locked on to the farmer pony’s eyes, and saw herself reflected back. “How do you know?”

“Because she’s the reason why we gotta do what they want us to do.” Applejack’s voice became thick now. “An’ they got Apple Bloom too. Do you understan’? We ain't got no choice.”

Understand!? Understand what? Why we have to do something we only do as a last resort? Or why you abstained from telling me anything!? She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. Applejack had steeled herself, and she knew exactly why.

Rarity closed her mouth. She nodded instead.

Without a word, they went to their beds. Applejack began to snore after a few minutes, but Rarity stared at her pillow. She was glaring at her own thoughts. While the white light grew, blazed, and shrank at the window, her mind hardened and sharpened, and focused, arrow-like, on the future. Something snapped inside her.

She didn’t sleep all night. Despite the room’s chill, her blood boiled the entire time.

The Preliminary Match: Rope in the Morning

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When Applejack heard the knock, she stood up on the bed and shook herself down. Rarity was still lying in hers where she’d lain down the previous day. Another knock, and Applejack rolled out of bed.

“I couldn’t sleep,” said Rarity. She hadn't moved.

“Ah’ll get the door then, shall Ah?” said Applejack gently. She yawned on her way over.

The pig stood outside the door, ugly teeth on display in a long-snouted sneer. Applejack looked down at its hooves, still rubbing her left eye. A gigantic coiled necklace lined with horseshoe-sized diamonds glinted back up at her, along with one or two other things.

“What in the world is this for?” she mumbled.

The pig – Peccary, she guessed – lowered its head and nudged the diamonds closer to her. Then it looked up expectantly.

Shrugging, she reached down and brought the coils up for inspection. Funny. Looks as heavy as an iron chain, flexes like normal rope. She gave it a few experimental swings. A bit like rodeo.

Applejack slung it over her head and shoulder. She picked up the thing that resembled a tiara, except the spikes were silver, the base was black, and sapphires gleamed around its rim.

“This stuff important?” she said.

The pig snorted, blasting a hot breath and flecks of snot into her face, and then trotted down the stairs and out the open front door. Beside her, Rarity hobbled over to the next device.

“Do we get breakfast?” Rarity yawned and covered her mouth. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. “I ask purely out of idle curiosity.”

When she spotted the tiara, she hesitated for a moment. She looked up at Applejack, who could only shrug. Then, slowly, cautiously, Rarity reached down and placed the tiara onto her own head.

Good grief. Even through whatever haze had Rarity trapped without emotion, something of the artist still lived on. Applejack sighed with relief.

She heard clanking noises from below, and her gaze drifted down the stairs to a doorway she hadn’t noticed last night. While Rarity hummed and inspected the other bits of jewellery, she adjusted the diamond rope around her neck and stepped down.

On the other side, at the bottom of yet more stairs, Flim and Flam bustled about a gigantic boiler. She recognized the two beds and the mishmash of devices all over the place. Whistle… chug… hiss… whistle… chug… hiss…

No. That can't be the same one, can it? Maybe it just looks similar. But then why?

One of the brothers turned around when she came down the steps. Flam tilted his hat.

“Well now, first letter of the alphabet, first pony to rise out of bed!” He nudged Flim, who put down the scrap metal he was working on to beam at her.

“You’re just in time to see our latest technological marvel.” Flim levitated a backpack bulging with the effort to contain a quartz block bigger than itself. “The Heal-Fast Health Hazard 215, guaranteed to speed up your body’s natural healing abilities. Always a boon in a fight!”

“I see you’ve chosen our customized Ice Lash,” said Flam, jiggling the edge of her rope. “Excellent choice, excellent choice, and of course an entirely suitable weapon for a rodeo champion!”

“Knock it off, fellas.” Applejack batted his hoof away. “What the hay is your deal, anyway? Ain’t you s’posed to be with the underground?”

Now, their faces turned white. Both brothers whipped around and shushed her frantically.

“Don’t go flapping your lid just any old how!” Flim levitated the backpack over to her. “Anyone caught working with the underground had better hope they’ll never ever be found out!”

“Anyway, you’ve got no excuse to be angry with us,” snapped Flam, and his brother released his magical grip and dropped the backpack hard on her spine. “We would’ve gotten you out of here safely if you hadn’t flown off the handle so quick.”

Wincing at her back pain, Applejack said, “So there is a way out, then?”

“Not for you anymore. We can only get one newly captured pony out at a time, and even that’s risking our necks with all the Diamond Bites and pigs around.”

“How sweet of you,” Applejack muttered.

“Just because we’re crooks who’d ruin families for profit,” said Flim smartly, “doesn’t make us bad ponies. At least you were alive when we stole your farm. Which by the way we still technically own.”

There was a slight, subtle, but nonetheless strangely loud shifting of the straps as Applejack braced her legs.

“Not that we’ll be claiming it, of course,” he added hastily. “Delegation is the way forward. Now, time to go. Your audience awaits. The pig’s waiting outside to escort you to the arena this morning.”

“How can you tell it’s mornin’?” Applejack said, relaxing again. “There’s no sky down here.”

Flam pointed at a mass of clockwork running on one wall. “Timekeeping devices. You'll find them all over the place if you look. Now, off you go, hero! Make Equestria proud!”

“Come back in one piece! And trust to our technological triumphs to keep you safe!”

Applejack gagged, but nodded as politely as she dared while the rest of her voted for violence. Flim and Flam weren't important right now.

Outside, Applejack walked onto a street that didn’t look any different from last night: dark, grim, and populated by ponies determined not to look at anything too closely. The pig shuffled its hooves, looking strangely embarrassed for a giant hairy killing machine with tusks.

To her relief, Rarity was standing there stiffly, looking more like her old self with her elegantly curled mane and false eyelashes fluttering under each blink. On her head, the tiara glinted. She could've been royalty waiting for the gilded coach. Applejack gawped for a moment.

When Rarity saw her, she nodded primly. There was no expression on her face.

“Uh. Where’s Cheese?” Applejack said, struggling for conversation.

“He went on ahead to make preparations.” Rarity’s voice was dull and listless.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Now Rarity’s eyes narrowed. “Just you wait until we get to that arena. Then we’ll see how I’m ‘holding up’.”

The pig grunted and led them down street after street at a trotting pace. Around them, the crystal ponies chatted and murmured excitedly, in spite of their dull coats, and after a few streets she noticed they were all heading in the same direction. Crystal guards appeared every few yards in the crowds, and always in pairs.

Despite the knot in her stomach and the backache under her bulging pack, Applejack began to feel lighter. She had a rope around her, and there was going to be a show. That screamed rodeo to her bones, even if her mind knew different. To see all those watching wide eyes around her, the fence hemming her in, and yet the freedom, the absolute freedom of the rope, flailing wherever she wanted it to flail like it was a psychic extension of herself…

They turned the corner and entered a solid press of crystal pony bodies. Up ahead, the pig squealed and grunted in its own language, easily clearing a path as the crowd yelped and jumped out of its way. Smiling faces met her from all angles. Excited chatter ran through her ears.

Feeling slightly stupid, Applejack raised a hoof and waved. If anything, the smiles and chatter intensified. Applejack slowed down to fall in alongside Rarity, who was beaming regally but otherwise ignoring the crowd.

“Why’s everyone lookin’ at us like that?” Applejack whispered.

“Because they are unprincipled barbarians who want to see us chewed up and spat back out,” Rarity hissed back, but she was still smiling. “I intend to leave them extremely disappointed.”

“Rarity, you’re startin’ to scare me a li’l bit.”

Rarity’s lips trembled for a moment. “Applejack, if we are going… If we are going… out into the dying light today, so to speak… then I intend to do so with dignity. After all, there's nothing else we can do, is there?”

Applejack said nothing. She rubbed her snout against Rarity’s unresisting cheek. At that moment, she couldn’t think of anything else.

Looming over their heads, the arena was a crystal Coliseum, a solid cylindrical block that had punched itself up and out of the ground. Here, torchlight gave way to floating, glowing gemstones and waving searchlights. Ponies crowded around the arches, watched in turn by crystal guards. Carved figures smiled out from over their heads, tucked away in endless lines of alcoves like ancient statues of gods greeting their subjects from up on high.

An excited foal rushed out and bumped into the pig. With a roar, the pig sent it screaming and crying back into the crowd. Applejack saw the bow on the filly's head, and for a moment needles jabbed into her. Just like Apple Bloom’s…

Ah promise you, Apple Bloom. One way or another, we’re gettin’ out of here. Ah’ll take you to my next rodeo in Canterlot. Ah ain’t gonna forget.

She blushed at the memory: a young filly, hat way too big for her head, cheering her on as she, Applejack, leaped over hurdle after hurdle. Apple Bloom always used to cheer her on, even when she tripped one day and fell into the mud. Apple Bloom always used to look at her as though she could do anything.

The pig stopped next to an archway untouched by any crystal ponies. Applejack shot a glare at it as she passed through, and then all three of them entered another moving hexagonal platform and waited for it to sink down to the next level.

Cheese Sandwich was waiting for them in stables that looked almost exactly like the ones they’d seen yesterday. No cake, though, Applejack thought glumly.

“Good morning, Applejack and Rarity! My, aren’t you ladies looking lovely this morning!” He gestured towards a table piled high with cakes and sandwiches and salad bowls. “Hungry? I can rustle up anything from the Magical Deathmatch cafeteria! I've got friends among foes here!”

Both stomachs rumbled. It had been a long time for them to go on nothing but a cake slice.

Rarity sighed. “I suppose a petit déjeuner would help.”

“The others should be along in a minute.” Cheese helped himself to a victoria sponge cake. “Nothing like a good, hearty sugar rush to get you in the mood for fighting, eh?”

When Applejack finished her apple, she left the dainty crunching of Rarity behind her and stepped through the next doorway. She ignored Cheese’s attempts to sing about how great it was to have new teammates.

This room held lockers and benches and, for reasons that weren’t clear to her, an exquisitely complicated glass chandelier burning brightly overhead. Of course, everything looked like it had been carved out of quartz, since it probably had been. This was crystal pony territory.

Still, under the blue shine of the chandelier and the hieroglyphic carvings along the exposed facets of the walls, it was nonetheless a glorified locker room. Practical. Straightforward. Useful.

Hoo doggies, this is more like it! Applejack uncoiled the Ice Lash and tied the end into a lasso. It even whipped through the air with the same whoosh and swish of rope.

Clenched between her teeth, the rope did everything she commanded. If she wanted a few loops to swipe back and forth, the afterimage still lingered as she’d remembered it. If she wanted to crack it at the locker door hard enough to dent it, there were soon enough dents on the one to form her own “AJ” initials. Another flip, and she’d phased through the swirling rope as though it weren’t there. Just like old times.

See! The back-flip trick she’d pulled to win the blue medal three years ago. There! The complicated three-ring orbit that only the likes of Calamity Mane could top. Now for the Hurly-Burly Appleloosan Swirly… When she’d finished, the rope tied itself into a butterfly shape. A flick of her neck, and the thing unwound itself. A jerk back, and it coiled around her neck. Flim and Flam were ever so slightly forgiven.

Ah’m home, she thought. Ah don’t need no hat. Ah know who Ah am now.

Hoofsteps tapped the crystal floor behind her. When she turned, she saw Rarity and Cheese Sandwich lead into the room – she did a quick headcount – ten ponies. Eyes widened and teeth were bared in horror.

Not a pony among them looked ready for combat. They lacked the bulky musculature of a military type and even the sinewy, callused legs of a farmer used to bucking trees. If any of this lot received weapons, they’d be more frightened of the things than any prospective victim would be of attack, if only because any such victim would merely have to sit and wait for them to knock themselves out.

Wait…

Coco and Trenderhoof stared out from the back of the crowd. At once, Applejack looked away. Those stares were a silent cry from every horrified heart in the locker room. She could spot the naked worm of fear trembling within each pupil.

Someone pushed and shoved their way to the front of the crowd, and Applejack suddenly had to kick down some extremely violent urges. It was Suri.

Eat or be eaten, she'd said. Bet it don’t sound too good when it’s someone else doin’ the chompin’.

Applejack opened her mouth.

What the heck can Ah say, though? Ah can’t cheer ‘em up. They’d think Ah was makin’ fun of ‘em. Ah can’t hit ‘em with the truth. Rarity’s right. Ah just don’t have the tact.

Fortunately, Cheese Sandwich zipped across the room to address them from atop a bench, sparing her the need to make herself a target.

“All right, troops!” he said, and Applejack groaned. First mistake already. “There’s a chance we’ll all get out of this OK, so don’t you worry about a thing. Old Cheesy’s here to see you through this match. And I ain’t gonna lie: it’s scary –”

Several ponies cringed.

“It’s uncertain.”

They drew their heads into their shoulders.

“It’s probably not gonna be everyone who comes back in here.”

Trenderhoof gulped.

“But darn it, I’m your Captain, and I say nuts and raisins to that! Because we’ve got the BEST DARN TEAM OF ALL TIME! There’s no one here who hasn’t been chosen because of how awesome and skilled and willing to fight for what’s right… you are. Ladies and gentlecolts, Team Rosebud is the greatest team of ponies IN THE WORLD! AM I RIGHT!?”

Nearby, Rarity’s face clenched against the onslaught of optimism.

No one cheered. No one even smiled.

Behind Applejack, another door slid back and then slid shut with a whoosh and a clank. She turned and immediately hit a pyroclastic flow of stinging, burning, eye-watering, choking, and strangely overheated perfumes. The air almost turned white. Whoever had applied it had never heard of the word “moderation”.

“Ah,” said Cheese – Applejack sidestepped out of the way – “Team, I’d like to introduce you to our assistant, the lovely hostess Mineral Cure of the Quartz Quarter! Give it up for her, ladies and gentlecolts! Woo!”

In the surrounding silence, his clapping hooves soon faded away.

For her part, the newcomer merely continued beaming as though no one was contemplating a rush attack. Several ponies leaned forwards against their own mental leashes. It was a wonder she kept smiling.

However, Applejack had hung around the likes of Pinkie Pie for too long. That smile was too wide, that skin slightly too stretched. And those eyes had nothing to do with what was going on elsewhere on the face.

Mineral Cure bowed. “It is absolutely my pleasure to welcome you all to our prosperous city. Our citizens are so excited. They can’t wait to see you all in action.”

“And they’re getting cake afterwards!” Cheese said, and then he wilted under the deadly chill.

“How wonderful. But first, I am here to better convey to you all the honour you are about to enjoy. Please consider this humble technological offering.”

From behind her, a single Diamond Bite floated to the side. It split into four and spread out. Lightning bolts zipped from corner to corner. Applejack almost jumped. Someone behind her yelped.

Then the diamond space between all four lines of lightning fizzed and sputtered. An image wiped across.

Officer Feldspar.

Grinning at them.

And, for some reason, wearing a helmet.

“Hello, boys and girls,” she said, crisply if chirpily. “Witness the marvels of Antipodean City! Right now, I’m far enough away that even an explosion right under your hooves couldn’t reach my ears, and yet with these little doohickeys? Instant chatterboxing! Bet you’d love one of these. Think of all the distant relatives you could talk to.”

A scuffle: Cheese had to restrain the sudden surge of Rarity straining to purge that face from existence with her bare hooves.

“Come down and say that!” she spat.

“And this is just the start,” continued Feldspar, but she gave Rarity a sidelong glance that revealed nothing. “You should have noticed by now that there are exactly a dozen of you, not including ancillary support. Twelve is the standard size for a team. Don’t worry if you lose a few members; we’ve got plenty more in reserve.”

“Cut to the chase,” snapped Applejack.

“Oh, I will, Little Miss Hardcore. That’s a pun, by the way.”

No one laughed.

Annoyance flickered across Feldspar’s face before she cheerfully continued.

“Your job is stupid-simple. Each one of you is given a weapon and a Bite for communication between your teammates and Captain Sandwich. Trouble is, so’s your opposition.”

Coco burst out with a sudden, sodden, hopeless sob.

“In a moment, we’ll have the sandy arena ready for the big show. All you have to do is wipe out the opposing team. Frankly, I don’t care how many of you kick the bucket, so long as at least one of you is still breathing when the last opponent goes boom. Easy-peasy, right? Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Imagine the hype! Especially…”

Applejack matched her stare for stare. Feldspar’s grin could’ve eaten sharks.

“Especially given the special guests coming out today.”

“Shove it, lady,” muttered Suri.

“Oh, and uh” – Feldspar chuckled – “one last thing, one good last thing. The first pony who refuses to play ball will be disqualified.”

Suri gave a strangled cry so loud that everyone turned to see her paling face. Her ears fell down with shock.

“Dis… qualified…?” she managed to warble.

“Of course, you’ve already seen what that looks like. And cleaned up after it. Well, good luck! Make me proud, folks! And rest assured we’ve got mops and buckets ready. Toodle-oo!”

The mouth giggled. The picture fizzled out. The Bite closed.

Then it opened again.

“Obviously, we’re not using mops and buckets. Doesn’t work on sand. But you get the idea.”

The Bite closed and zipped out the door.

“There,” said Mineral Cure, her voice exactly like her smile. “Now you are quite prepared for the challenge ahead of you. It certainly sounds like fun.”

“Er, yes,” said Cheese, who shook the wild stare off his face and beamed at the surrounding gaggle. “Think of it as a really big party game! Everyone gets to join in, you meet new ponies, and if you get into the spirit of the thing, there’s plenty of fun to be had by all! And cake! Don't forget that cake!”

“WHAT!? Did they cream your brains when you joined up, you moron?” Suri yelled, and as the head of the mob – at least, the sorry excuse that passed for a mob – she drew more than a few glances and a bit more fidgeting from the other ponies. “We’re gonna get thrown into an arena with no training, no decent weapons, nothing but a bunch of other ponies trying to turn us into tomorrow’s dumpster dish!”

“Well… er… yeah, but… but… but so will the other team.”

Cheese’s smile lived up to his name, but crumbled much faster. He even stank like it. For a moment, Applejack wondered if he’d ever had to deal with someone like Suri before.

“And we get no help neither,” said Suri.

“Er… that’s not entirely true,” said Cheese, and he coughed awkwardly under all the stares spearing him. “As Captain, I, uh, provide moral support… from the sidelines…”

“Thought so,” said Suri, her words a cold slam of the coffin.

At the back, Coco blushed and hid her face behind a hoof. She was starting to tremble.

“And while we’re getting our haunches kicked,” said Suri, “and you’re shouting sweet nothings at us, you know what we’re supposed to do, right?”

Winces twitched out of faces like mice in boltholes. Hooves scuffed the floor. The air practically shimmered with sweat. Suri was making no friends, but at least she let a bit of life out of the group. Secret fears prepared to bolt out of burrows.

Applejack glanced across. To her distress, Rarity remained tight of lip, diamond-eyed, and still. Sweetie Belle’s ghost might as well have floated over her, whispering horrors.

Applejack breathed deeply and stepped forwards. At once, several faces jolted with recognition. A couple of ponies murmured under their breaths to each other.

“Suri's right. Truth’s truth; it ain’t good,” she said, and Suri nodded and mouthed “thank you”. “But what else is there? We can’t run away, or they’ll get us. We can’t fight them, or they’ll get us. We can’t reason with ‘em, threaten ‘em, nothin’.”

“Too right,” said Suri. A few wary nods braved the nightmare here and there.

“There’s just one chance. Ah don’t know about you, but Ah’m not fightin’ for some crazy psycho pony who’s sicker than sick. Ah’m fighin’ for that chance. And Ah’m givin’ it everythin’ Ah got. That's the job right now.”

Her gaze briefly settled on Trenderhoof – who glared and nodded – Coco – whose cheeks were stained but whose eyes remained hidden behind a hoof – and finally, painfully, inevitably, Rarity.

Who was struggling not to heave with each breath.

Applejack sighed. “Maybe tomorrow, there’ll be a way out. Maybe not. But we won’t know until we get there, and that means gettin’ through today, got it? Ah’ll do what Ah can for you. Ah’m sure we all will. We're in this together. Just… just let’s get it over with.”

Next to Suri, one of the mares coughed. “Uh… she mentioned weapons?”

At this, Mineral Cure – who’d lurked on the margins smiling at everyone – stepped forwards and nodded. “Finest crystal weapons in Antipodean City. Please, those who haven't been armed yet help yourself.”

Mineral Cure stepped aside. A table that certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago now crackled with lightning and shone with more Diamond Bites. It seemed to be made of nothing else.

Piled on top were… well…

Applejack watched at the ponies listlessly plucked whatever was nearest or left over. Some attached hoof-shaped devices to a leg each. Some put on helmets. Some put on saddlebags or backpacks. Some levitated things that crammed quartz, sticks, and pulsing lights along nozzles as though the designer had failed to make up their mind.

Trenderhoof took the opportunity to step over to her. “O Apple of My Eye, how I’d hoped to see your beauty once more before the end!”

“Knock it off, please. This is serious.”

He looked so crestfallen that she relented to add, more softly, “Anyway, who says this is the end?”

“I must say,” he said, refusing to look up, “I’ve encountered some exceedingly rough places on my travels, but a deathmatch! It’s barbaric! Even the Ancient Pegasus Empire abolished gladiator combat thousands of years ago! And that was voluntary!”

“Right. Good.” Applejack craned her neck to see over him. Every single pony either held their weapons as though handling something a cat had dragged in, or simply stood staring as though the weapons had them entranced. Suri grimaced; she’d probably never hefted anything heavier than a sewing machine.

Applejack patted her own Ice Lash wrapped across her chest like a bandolier. Opposite, Rarity’s tiara gleamed.

It was starting to creep her out. She made to join Rarity’s side –

“Very good!” said Mineral Cure once Coco dropped the last weapon out of sheer nerves. “While we wait, I could obtain food and drink for those who’d like it?”

“Carrot cake for everyone!” cried out Cheese.

Suri gaped at him. A few weapons clicked or locked into place.

With remarkably good timing, Mineral Cure backed out the door. Her smile remained fixed like a shield the whole way.

“Cheese,” said Applejack hastily, gripping him and drawing him away from the others. She turned to check; ponies returned to staring and hefting crystal things. “Can Ah talk to you for a mo?”

“Sure,” said Cheese, blinking in surprise. “What’s the word on the ground, kiddo?”

Applejack groaned. His face was back to imitating some stern wandering sheriff. It was like watching an eager-to-please puppy go “quack”.

“Ah know you’re only tryin’ to help,” she said as kindly as she could, “but this ain’t no Ponyville, and we ain’t playin’ no games at a Rainbow Dash Birthday Bash neither.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” he said gruffly. “Take the Debbie Downer approach? I wrote a song about why that idea stinks. Listen –”

Wisely, she placed her hoof on his mouth before he’d even drawn his first breath. Of course, ponies broke out into song all the time in Equestria – it was just one of those little quirks – but they ate up minutes and she really didn’t fancy her last melody being a polka.

“Look, Ah’ve been there,” she said, lowering the hoof from his offended face. “Ponies are in over their heads. Everyone’s lookin’ at you to solve their problems with a bit of magic, and you know and Ah know it just don’t work like that. Least not all the time. You can’t tell lies and cover things up, ‘cause when they know you’re lyin’ and hidin’ stuff, they’ll see you as more enemy than friend.”

“Now hold on a second –”

“Ah’m not sayin’ don’t cheer ‘em up!” Applejack patted him on the shoulder, but stopped at the expression he hit it with. “They know what’s comin’. They need you to keep their hopes alive. But you gotta show you’re Captain for a reason.”

“Feldspar pulled my name out of a hat.”

“You gotta show you’re Captain for a good reason,” said Applejack without missing a beat.

For the first time, he cringed with discomfort. Given that she’d never seen him as anything other than clown, lone wanderer, and possible asylum escapee, the sight of him as overgrown foal stopped her mind short.

“Well yeah, but…” He wrinkled his lips. “I know what’s coming.”

She gave up. At least if he’d kept up the jokey façade, she could’ve pretended it was nice to go out with a smile.

“So there’s cake, right?” she said with a sigh.

Life flooded back into Cheese’s face. “Hero’s special! Kid, if we get out of this in one piece, I am personally gonna throw the shindig of the season! The celebration of the century! The merrymaking of a millennium. No. Of a million years!”

“That’ll do,” she murmured, and left him booming on about bouncy cities, punch bowl lakes, and enough limbo to jazz up an afterlife.

Slipping through the scattering of lost souls, Applejack came up alongside Rarity, who was staring blankly at a full-length mirror and running a hoof repeatedly along the curl of her mane. The strands at the end unfurled and then bounced back. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce.

“At least we’re together,” Applejack whispered.

Rarity didn’t acknowledge her in the slightest. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce.

Helplessly, Applejack reached over her shoulder and drew her closer. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling… bounce. Unfurling…

Rarity held the locks and never let them bounce back.

“Heck, we’ve been through plenty of scrapes before now,” Applejack continued, hoping something in her voice would prod life back into the warm, stiff, taut tarpaulin of hide and muscle. She felt so useless, so limp. “Nightmares, chaos, invasions, weeds… We still have a chance.”

In the mirror, one mare stood and peered at them both. Even under the barding now being passed around, the orange cutie mark was clearly visible on the pony’s haunches.

Strange. Something familiar about the mare… Distant relative, maybe? Applejack could’ve sworn she’d never seen her at a family reunion, but then the Orange side of the family didn’t meet much. Beyond the usual soiree, of course.

Wait… barding?

Applejack spun round in time to see Mineral Cure pass along the last of the armour plates. Her smile managed to widen despite already bisecting her twisted face. A swarm of Diamond Bites floated around her.

“It is time for your performance,” she said smoothly. “Please follow me to the arena for your preliminary match. Oh my, isn’t this exciting?”

The others were already moving out. Reluctantly, slowly, tantalizingly, Applejack slid her leg off Rarity’s back and followed. A moment later, hooves clopped on the crystal floor in her wake.

Once more, Applejack reached up and patted a hat that wasn’t there. She should’ve been wrapped up in a bed, or relaxing in a bath or in a spa pool. Anywhere else, she felt dangerously exposed without her trusty Stetson. Especially with all these strange ponies around.

The only lights came from the stationary Diamond Bites hovering overhead, pulsing gently. Under their faint auras, the tunnel was craggy and heavily shadowed as though the holes and crevices themselves were becoming solid.

No one spoke. Even Mineral Cure was content to stride along, humming cheerfully to herself. Applejack shuddered.

Last time she’d felt like this, she’d been waiting for her first rodeo. Her stomach even knotted itself with the familiar twists of shame and the spiralling, writhing motions of dread.

Except this ain’t a fun li’l match.

Beside her, Coco was eerily silent. First Rarity, now her…

“You OK?” murmured Applejack, horribly aware of how flippant the question must sound.

Coco nodded without so much as a sideways glance. She wore no barding, oddly enough. Instead, she’d gone for nothing more than a talisman, which now dangled down from her neck in suicidal depression. It was even coloured the right shade of asphyxiated blue.

To her own surprise, Applejack added, “Listen, you don’t have to do a thing if you don’t want to. Ah’ve had to fight all kinds of monsters when Ah was takin’ apple stock around Equestria. If you find somewhere to hole up, Ah can –”

If her own words had caught her by surprise, then Coco’s glower actually made her stumble.

“I’m not a baby,” Coco muttered sullenly.

“Ah never said you were. It’s just you and Rarity ain’t exactly… suited for this sort of rough-and-tumble stuff.”

“No one is. Not really.”

Applejack let it go. Last thing she wanted was for Coco’s last moments to be spent arguing.

Besides, Coco had a point. Most Equestrian citizens were just… well, citizens. No military training except for those who wanted to join the Royal Guard. And arguably the Wonderbolts. She’d never been clear on their official status.

Then again, what if everyone had been trained? Every citizen in Equestria: capable of fighting off enemies? How much work it’d save…

No, that was just a pipe dream. Even the Royal Guard – and arguably the Wonderbolts – weren’t much in the defence department. Most national threats were dealt with by heroic quests and powerful magical doodads, not by trained-up squadrons. Then there was time, money, resources, success rate; loads of things could go wrong.

Heroic quests. Huh. Heroic quests like hers. Suddenly, that wasn’t such a comforting thought. Even she hadn’t enjoyed throwing herself into the jaws of death. It was just what she had to do. It was no more remarkable than her job tending apple trees and feeding the pigs. All part of the job. At least she'd had friends with her.

And now she was surrounded by Rarity – and what was going on in her fashionista head Applejack dreaded to think – and ten ponies whose lives had been largely unremarkable and unchallenging, who were all being led into a deathmatch. Suri had been right.

Coco was right. On exactly the same point.

“Can’t be that hard if we ain’t had no trainin’,” Applejack suggested, not with much enthusiasm.

“In a way,” said Coco thickly, “this reminds me of Manehattan. Of my old job, you know?”

Wondering if this was building up to something, Applejack said, “How so?”

Still not looking at Applejack, Coco mumbled, “I remember when I first met Suri. She seemed so nice and welcoming at first, and she let me make whatever dresses I wanted. But when I found out she was claiming them for herself, I told her I wanted a fair share of the credit, and it went downhill from there.”

Applejack sensed more words waiting to be spoken. Huh. We who are about to die want to get everything out, Ah guess.

“I thought it was just her at first, going on about ‘eat or be eaten’. I went to work for a few other ponies for a while. There had to be someone who wouldn’t take advantage, I thought. I was wrong. Most of them were worse than Suri. I don’t know how many times I was dropped the moment I asked for credit, or because I had a creative block, or when I dared to make one amateurish mistake. And there were ones worse even than that. At least Suri let me stay on. She even welcomed me back like she was my ‘best buddy’.”

“Yeah. Ah’ll bet.”

“It’s all about how useful they think you are.”

Yet Applejack wondered, That can’t be right, can it? Aunt and Uncle Orange knew lots of fashion pony types, and they were OK. A bit snobby, maybe, but they wouldn’t dump someone ‘cause they weren’t up to snuff. They wouldn’t use ponies.

Anyway, it’s Equestria. Most ponies are decent folk, country or city. Sure, you get a few rotten apples, but not a whole bushel. Rarity’s all set up in Manehattan, and she must know lots of good ponies there.

Maybe Coco was just unlucky.

Or maybe Manehattan’s changed since Ah was first there? Come to think of it, Ah only stayed with Aunt and Uncle Orange for a few days.

Coco sighed. “I thought we could make a difference.”

“You did,” said Applejack at once. “You’re not workin’ for Suri no more. You’re workin’ for Rarity. You literally couldn’t find two ponies less like each other.”

Up ahead, Trenderhoof cocked an ear while he shuffled on.

“Yeah,” said Coco, and so sharp was her voice that Applejack’s ears gave a spasm with each pricking. “But I’m still working for someone else. That wasn’t my dream at all. Don’t you get it? Dreams don’t mean a lot in Manehattan, and they don’t mean a lot here. At least that’s one thing they’ve both got in common.”

Suri’s voice sidled up to them and chuckled, but mirthlessly, as though poisoned by bitter medicine. “Sounds like someone’s woken up and smelled the roses, aheheh OK?”

“What’s wrong with you two?” said Applejack, fighting to rein in her exasperation. “You’re acting like we’ve already lost.”

Suri sighed the sigh of one faced with a complete simpleton. “Pur-lease. Coco’s as naïve as they come, but at least a few of my lessons got through to her. Eat or be eaten, AJ. You precious heroes can’t stay clean here.”

Applejack rounded on her. “You’re tellin’ me there’s nothin’ you wouldn’t do to get what you want?”

“Calm down, Little Miss High-and-Mighty. Who said I wanted any part of this, OK? We all go through Coco’s stage once or twice.”

Finally, Coco raised her face to meet theirs. Her pupils were pinpricks lost in the barren wastes of her white eyes. Already creamy, her skin turned pale.

“Suri,” she said quickly, “before we go, I just want to say it was nothing personal when I –”

“Spare me,” said Suri in her most uncaring tone. “I found another schmuck. Don’t act like you were anything special, kid.”

Coco clenched her jaw tight, but said nothing. She started breathing heavily, heaving her shoulders with the effort.

“I wish I could stop this,” she muttered to the ground.

“You and me both, Coco,” said Suri, and unexpectedly she gave a heaving sigh of her own. She moved ahead, falling in next to the one mare Applejack was sure must be an Orange.

Trenderhoof jumped backwards, wincing as his armour clanked. Right next to Applejack, he whispered, “Now surely you have a plan to deliver us from this evil?”

Caught by surprise, Applejack almost bumped into Coco. “What?”

“Come now, O Apple of My –”

“Ahem.”

“Oh, right. Apologies. Come now, Applejack. I’ve heard far and wide of your exploits. Bearer of the Elements, purger of evil, eradicator of evil lords and nightmare abominations.”

“Hmm,” said Applejack warily. For the most part, she pretended not to care for this sort of talk. Again, it was just a job.

In any case, half of those things weren’t her exploits. Usually, she just happened to be nearby when they went down, and some other poor pony had to go through the trials and tribulations. Not that she wouldn’t have done the same – she felt it in her bones – but life just wasn’t that neat and tidy.

Hero work looked glamorous right up until she had to watch a friend get slowly gassed by an eldritch plant from Tartarus. But Trenderhoof didn’t think like that. He was the sort of pony who could watch some hard apple-bucking and call it “the noble and essential craft and practice of the idyllic earth pony, steward of Arcadia, defender of the hungering ones”.

And now she wished she hadn’t thought “hard apple-bucking”, because the look he was giving her…

“Surely, one as enterprising and determined as yourself has come up with an escape plan?” he said. Utter confidence lounged across his face, leaning forwards slightly.

“Trenderhoof, Ah’m sure lookin’ for an escape hatch, Ah promise you, but right now Ah don’t see –”

“Excellent, Applejack! Excellent. My faith in your interminable earth pony tenacity has not been misplaced, I see!”

Wishful thinkin’, she thought gloomily. He’s just desperate.

She glanced back at Rarity. “Sure could do with a hero right now,” she whispered, hoping he wouldn’t hear.

Then she glanced up ahead. Suri, Coco, Trenderhoof, that Orange one she was almost certain must be a Manehattan socialite… and she didn’t know anyone else.

Well, she’d just have to fight for all of them. If she had to.

It was a crazy thought, but what else was there? She had a job to do. Not doing it was unthinkable.

Finally, the ponies at the front stopped. Applejack did the same. The lights ended here.

Mineral Cure turned to address them. “Team Rosebud, you are now about to perform in your preliminary match. May I just take this opportunity to say that you are all heroes in the eyes of the Antipodean citizens. Each and every one of you has a special place in our national consciousness. Prove your worth here, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams.”

No one spoke. Beside Applejack, Rarity drew herself up and snorted in her defiance.

“Please, stand proud, bring happiness, and above all, enjoy yourselves. This wonderful time has been brought to you courtesy of the Ultimate Supreme Company Executive Officer Feldspar of the House of Silicates.”

Several ponies pawed at the ground. Some, like Rarity, took deep, steadying breaths.

An unseen mechanism clicked.

“We love and admire you all. And remember: only on the battlefield can one see your true selves. Be true. Be you.”

An infinity stretched out before them. Lights beamed through the gap.

Applejack gritted her teeth. Just another job. She had to think it was just another job.

The Preliminary Match: Dunes of Death

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When the mechanism clicked and the grand doors creaked their way upwards, Rarity grimaced and shielded her face from the light. But only for a moment, before she remembered her dignity. She wouldn’t be caught cringing at anything.

The arena was… was…

She forced herself not to be impressed. Oh, the ponies around her might gawk and gasp and blink incredulously, but this world was all the work of thieves and monsters and liars and criminals and barbarians! She’d be darned if she was going to give them any credit for soiling such a remarkable, magnificent, architecturally impressive…

It was proving really, really hard.

The stadium ran around, seemingly as far as the horizon. Those endless rows of seats could have enclosed a village if the settlement was developed enough, possibly even a town. Pillars and columns ran among the seats, along with drapes that were almost tapestries. All the high walls separating spectator from spectacle gleamed. There was no way to climb out.

Every seat was packed. Swarming, waving, cheering, chanting fans were everywhere. There must’ve been thousands at least. Crystal ponies even flashed as they switched from their usual drab selves to shiny forms.

Her keen eye caught details on the rows opposite. Spaced out, as regularly as numbers on a sundial, were crystal guards. All of them had jet-black manes and glowing green slits for eyes.

Gingerly, her fellow teammates stepped out, and sand crunched under their hooves.

The arena itself was a mass of undulating dunes, like a golden sea caught and frozen. Craggy arches and stacks of red stone stood out like fractured ribs. Yet it had its own desolate beauty.

Why now? Why this? Oh, please no! It’s too, too perfect! Why can’t we meet under more auspicious times!?

Unlike her fellow ponies in the pit, she strode forwards, head high and haughty like a queen. Neck muscles strained with the effort. Part of her wanted to hop about giddy and giggly. But no. Poise. That was the key…

“Ladies and gentlecolts!” boomed a voice.

She recognized it instantly. Her jaw tightened.

Overhead hung a massive black stalactite like a mountain turned upside-down. Dots of light winked on it. She thought she saw heads peering out of the lower windows.

“Welcome to the one thousand, nine hundred, and eighty first preliminary round of this, the greatest, most exciting, most creative, and most historically significant event in the entire universe: MMMMMMAGICAAAAAAL DEATTTTTHHHHMAAAAAAATCH!”

The crowd screamed and turned into a cooing, clapping, stomping mass of noise and colour. For a brief moment, Rarity’s inner turmoil died down. This? No more than a show. Well, she knew how to deal with a show.

“And what better way to start than with an all-classic Arid Desert Arena Deathmatch? You see, ladies and gentlecolts, ladies and gentlecolts, Team Rosebud has been joined by two extremely special guest stars! From the humble town of Ponyville comes a pastoral powerhouse! She’s a gritty gift to gastronomical grandeur! An agricultural agitator! An indomitable desperado! Say howdy and buckle up for the buck-‘em-up heroic bronco, heeerrrreeee’s AAAAAAAPPLLLLLLEEEEJAAAAAACK!”

All around the arena, Diamond Bites split open and showed images. Images of sandy expanse, and of Applejack, starting and looking around in shock.

Cheers broke out. Beside Rarity, Applejack reached up to hide under her hat’s brim. Then she stopped. She visibly remembered. She lowered her hoof and sighed.

Do not break ranks, Rarity thought to herself. Do not move. Do not show these ruffians any weakness. Oh, why does this have to be so hhhaaaaard!? I should be comforting the poor lost soul!

Forgive me, Applejack! I’ll explain once this is over. Please let us last that long.

“And now, ladies and gentlecolts, the House of Silicates is proud to announce the inauguration of an awe-inspiring sensation! She’s a fashionista and a brilliant socialite, cut from the finer fabric of the beautiful society! She’s an idol who ain’t idle! She’s the gem of the gentry, the crown of the country, the dashing, debonair, dressmaking diamond of dreams and delights! All rise for the lovellllyyyyy LAAAADYYYYY… RRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIITTTTTTYYYYYYYYY!”

Images of her implacable tiara flickered around them. She forced herself to stare directly ahead. High and haughty. High and haughty…

Furiously, she fought against the burning in her cheeks. Darn it, that speech was polluted coming out of that mouth. Despite herself, she couldn’t help but notice her applause was a lot louder and far more enthusiastic than Applejack’s.

Not that she cared. Because she didn’t.

Nearby, Trenderhoof let out a breath as though he’d been holding it for too long. Two of the ponies she didn’t know began to gibber.

“Together, our two guest stars form part of the Spirited Seven of Equestria, the most courageous of all heroes across the globe. They’ve saved our sister empire to the north, but can they save themselves in the sinister south? No idea, but it’ll make for some cool entertainment, right!?”

Those walls: too sheer to climb. Not even Applejack’s diamond rope thing could scale that. They had weapons, but surely no one would be dumb enough to give them an obvious chance like that?

“In fact, I’m so confident we’ll have a good show that I’m appearing in person to announce this principal match! Look up and say hi, brief mortals! Mwahahahaha!”

The crowd's indulgent laughter echoed around the arena. Instantly, Rarity’s keen eye saw why.

A dot detached from the stalactite overhead. Amid the floating stars of Diamond Bites, it tumbled and freewheeled. Soon the crowd fell silent.

What the…? What’s she doing?

The crowd gasped.

The figure became a clear pony outline. Its legs stretched out. Then it reached up to pull something on its back.

Whoomph! One parachute burst open and went taut.

Laughter returned, along with applause. On all the screens, the helmeted head of Officer Feldspar grinned maniacally. Her figure gently floated down to a speaker’s podium on the far side of the arena. Airily, she waved at the crowd around her.

Then she removed her helmet and backpack to blow kisses and raise her forelimbs.

She’s just an overgrown child. Rarity snorted.

“Haha!” Feldspar tapped something on the stand. “All right! I beat a record!”

Warm applause echoed all around. Utter confusion quelled fear for a moment; around Rarity, the other ponies exchanged puzzled glances and whispered amongst themselves.

“Sweet! But this isn’t about me, folks. This is, in all honesty, about all of YOU AMAZING PONIES!” Whooping: stamping. “Yeah, lift those spirits! We’ve been hungering for this big buffet of bloodshed! Well, LET’S TUCK IN!”

The crowd didn’t die down, but they became an endless rush of noises that was as close to silence as they were likely to get. Excitement crackled among them.

Opposite, another door creaked open. More ponies stepped out of the darkness, but at this distance they were mere suggestions. Lights gleamed off their barding.

“Challenging our special guests today is nothing less than the finest, roughest, toughest, dirtiest team ever to disgrace the name of Magical Deathmatch. You love to hate ‘em! You hate to love ‘em! Cutthroats and criminals, the whole lot of ‘em! Who better to become the reigning champions and favourites of this year’s destruction junction? Boo and hiss for the dark hearts of the empire: TEEEEAAAAMMMM BACKSTABBEEEEEEEEERRRRS!”

Rarity stared.

Stepping out among the ponies came a towering blue mass. Part jackal, part gigantic ape: she’d recognize that outline anywhere. She’d seen it at the altar of a terrible temple, once before, during one of her friends’ more outlandish outings.

Not a pony. Probably not even anything civilized. A creature so secretive that she’d had to venture to the boondocks of Equestria to find it, and even then had to track it down to its ancient lair. For the crystal ponies to have not only found him but caught him…

It was Ahuizotl.

Overhead, the screens burst into life. Sparks zapped behind her; she turned to see Cheese Sandwich peer out from a balcony over the entrance, and his own frown looked out from a larger screen over the crowd behind him. When she turned back, she saw a distant pony figure on a balcony opposite, and from his larger screen…

Unshaven, unsmiling, and almost certainly as unethical as ever, Doctor Caballeron adjusted his ragged tie and dishevelled collar.

But-But those are Daring Do’s enemies! Wh-What in blazes are they doing here?

“Ladies and gentlecolts, you all know the rules! Two teams, one arena, no time limit! Last team standing wins!”

Fresh fear filled the air. Suri trembled. Coco rubbed her temples trying to force the nightmare out of her head. Applejack reeked of sweat. Even the one with the orange cutie mark kept looking about for support, and Rarity’s discerning social eye had judged her to be the most stoic of the bunch.

Silently, she weighed up their chances. Trenderhoof, for all his virtues, was a creature of culture; he’d have a panic attack the instant things went south. Now that stallion there with the brick cutie mark seemed the rough type, but that mare with the slender legs and long eyelashes was almost certainly going to flee…

“And… that would be really, really boring and predictable.” Feldspar laughed. Rarity’s heart began to burn with fresh hatred. “Just a simple one-on-one? Feh! Forget that! Let’s give these heroes a REAL challenge! To spice things up a bit, here comes the WILD CARD!”

She could’ve sworn the crowd went “OO, OO, OOO, OO”. Why? Some weird native tradition?

In the middle of the arena, the ground shuddered. Rarity felt it through her hooves.

Oh no… What now…?

“And boy howdy, HAHA!” Feldspar slapped her thigh; she’d had to rear up to the speaker’s stand. “Boy howdy have we got a doozy for you-zy! She’s four storeys tall and twelve and a half tons of fighting force! Dread of the desert! Terror of Tabbano! Sharp as a scythe and quick as a kick!”

A slit opened up. The hatch doors slid aside. Sand poured over the edge.

The pincer shot out first. Then the articulated arm.

Urgent chatter broke out around Rarity, but she barely noticed. Her own mind shattered with suddenly urgent messages.

That pincer was the size of a bus.

Another one clasped at the edge, and then the muscular torso and pony-like head rose out. Curls bounced around a face that could’ve been raised high enough to peer through a princess’ tower. Oversized though the pincers were, it whirled them about with ease.

The tail flexed. The stinger tried to hook the air itself. The giant heaved its armoured, shifting plates up and over, revealing a back like a plaza and far too many scuttling legs. Were it not for the natural weaponry hefted elsewhere, the curving, jagged spikes of the legs alone would’ve made her faint.

“Behold, ladies and gentlecolts, the IMPERIAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLL SCOOOOOOORRRRRRRPOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNYYYYYYY!”

Rarity's legs began shaking. She forced them to stop.

I’ve faced monsters before. I can face this one. And the team. And the chance that I’m about to collapse onto my knees at any second now. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, wake up Rarity! Wake up! I want out of here right now!

Wrapping around the Scorpony’s neck, its chain tethered it to a rising platform that clicked into place. Crystal ponies – presumably attendants – surrounded it. They had glowing white diamonds at the ends of prods.

Surprisingly, the Scorpony yawned. It glanced about at the crowd around it. Defiance creasing its face, it began to heft its weight about and curl up.

“Ohoho, everyone! Looks like ‘ickle snippy doesn’t want to play today!”

“Phew,” murmured Applejack. Suri wiped her forehead.

By now, the Scorpony was almost curled up on its side. One of the attendants lunged forwards with the prod.

The creature's scream ran through Rarity and shook her from hooves to hair and back. Trenderhoof jumped. Several other ponies backed away hurriedly, distant though they were from that suddenly slashing monster.

Another crystal pony attendant leaped forwards and jabbed, stinging it again and again. Sparks flew. The screams became desperate. The body writhed in agony.

Jolting with a sudden rush of fury, the creature snapped to its feet and raised its pincers. A swipe: the chain disintegrated into links. Leftover leash dangled and swung from its neck. With advisable haste, the attendants scuttled back onto the platform, which sank out of sight. The approaching pincers only met the hatch sliding shut; they met with a clank.

Everyone flinched. The Scorpony struck the hatch again and again, clearly frustrated. To Rarity's disgust, the crowd jeered and chuckled at this.

Then the Scorpony turned about, trying to see all the crowd at once. It filled its lungs, then swelled further, then swelled some more, and finally stopped, braced itself, and bellowed. Wailing, screeching, whining, squealing, roaring so much defiance that the world shook and the echoes dared it to boom louder and the only reason Rarity knew anyone had screamed was because she saw Coco’s face explode with the effort. That echoing earthquake rolled away like thunder.

Now the crowd’s whooping came back. The thrill of excitement gave it added shrillness.

“Hey-hey! That’s better!” said Feldspar.

That poor creature… Is there nothing these brutes won’t sink to?

Get a hold of yourself, Rarity! You’re you! Not Fluttershy! That creature is not your immediate concern!

Oh, I wish I hadn't thought that.

“Rarity!” Applejack spun round. Her face was a mask of terror.

The starting horn blared. Rarity whimpered.

“IIIIIIIIIT'S SHOWTIME!”

All around her, Applejack saw the other ponies stiffen or look around. There was that breathless moment when everyone wondered if things had really started. Confusion held them at bay.

As soon as the horn’s blaring echoes cut out, Applejack braced her legs. Something bumped against her spine: the weighty backpack Flim and Flam had given her. Gaping, her mouth reached down for the Ice Lash.

And froze midway.

Opposite, the Scorpony spun round to face the opposing team. Tail flailed; pincers snipped. Chain swinging feebly around its neck, the creature heaved its laborious bulk around and then, much faster than anything that size should have managed, scuttled across the dunes. She almost felt its thundering through her legs.

Team Backstabbers just stood there.

Unease crept through Applejack. Coco and a few others turned to her and Rarity for clues. One or two turned to Suri. Suri herself calmly watched the creature moving away. Perhaps there’d be a bit of good luck after all?

The creature was almost on top of the opposing team. And the team still stood there.

Unease curdled into suspicion. Applejack squinted. They should’ve been attacking: maybe whipping it; maybe firing at it; anything. Surely even Ahui-whatever-his-name-was would’ve been rearing to tackle it?

A few shiny dots dropped away from the figures. Unluckily, her eyes just weren’t that keen.

“What are they doin’?” she murmured.

“Is-Is it over alr-r-ready?” Coco drew closer as though ready to use her as a shield.

Rarity hummed. Now that wasn’t encouraging; Rarity only hummed when she saw things that didn’t add up.

Unpredictably, the Scorpony skidded to a halt. Clouds of dust puffed away from its legs, visible even over this distance. Around them, the stadium crowd settled for a continuous mutter, confused and uncertain.

“What? What is it?” Applejack watched.

“They’ve just dropped… their armour?” Rarity squinted. “I can’t quite make it out.”

A Diamond Bite must’ve drawn closer to pick up details; on the screens around the arena, images of the goons flared into life. Their barding lay scattered on the sands before them. And “goons” was about right; whether scuffed, scarred, or bearded, all of them looked like images from a series of wanted posters.

Ahuizotl turned his pointed head up to them. The paws and thighs of his back legs drew taut with muscle and tendons. His hands clenched. At the end of a long snout, two tiny eyes blazed with hatred.

He lunged. At once, the screens went blank.

“Ohoho! Looks like Team Backstabbers are up to their usual tricks!” Feldspar’s voice dripped with glee.

“Why are they droppin’ their bardin’?”

“Shh,” hissed Rarity. “Look!”

She pointed at the moving mass opposite; the Scorpony had bent its more pony-esque half downwards. Forelimbs shifted. It was still hard to tell what it was doing.

Applejack’s mind ran through the options. Beasts of all kinds had their own little quirks. Maybe the other team knew something about shiny armour and Scorponies? After all, she’d faced things like the chimæra, which could be tamed by – of all things – a chair, a flute, and a satchel full of ricotta.

If it was even an Equestrian beast. She’d never heard of Scorponies in the country.

Pincers rose and fell, easily discernible over this distance. White gleams tumbled down the creature’s back.

“It’s collecting the armour,” said Rarity.

Applejack didn’t waste time asking questions. “Y’all heard that! They’re givin’ it armour to stop it attackin’ ‘em, Ah’ll betcha anythin’! Drop the armour! Quick!”

“What? No!” one of the mares yelped.

“And let the other team have a clean shot?” Suri laughed. “I don’t think so!”

“At once, my wise worker!” Trenderhoof immediately wriggled out of his chest plate. Watching this, several other ponies soon followed. None of them looked remotely like they understood the whys and wherefores, but the voice of command and the definite action cut through the confusion.

The crowd booed and hissed around them. To go so long without any clashes: that could be dangerous. Feldspar was just the sort of lowlife to prod things along.

Without warning, the Scorpony spun round. Its outline glowed purple with magic. Even a short-sighted mare couldn’t miss it.

The Scorpony ducked rapidly. Sand exploded. As soon as the dust cleared, the creature had vanished, leaving Team Backstabbers standing idly by their own entrance.

But when she focused, Applejack definitely saw a hump rushing along the dunes of the desert. Possibly aided by the acoustics of the arena, the rumble grew.

“It’s coming towards us!” one of the mares squealed.

“Pile up the armour there!” shouted Applejack, pointing at random. Clanking hastily followed, as did Suri’s muttering.

“It’s getting closer…” Trenderhoof rubbed his forehead. “May my faith in you never be misplaced, O dearest petal of the –”

“Really not the time.” Applejack never took her eyes from the geysers of grains blasting up from the hump. By now, the rumble was a growling of the ground itself.

“Woohoo, sports fans!” Feldspar shouted overhead. “Looks like Team Rosebud are favourites! Favourite SNACKS, that is! Haha!”

Please let it work. For Apple Bloom’s sake, please let it work.

Whether it was cynicism or a premonition, doubt and horror hit her from the inside-out. Then the hump grew, became a moving dune…

“It ain’t stoppin’!”

Instantly, the desert blasted itself in front of them, and the torso emerged from the cloud, rippling with muscles like crevices in a cave wall. A leg rose up and stepped into view, almost crushing Suri who leaped backwards.

One of the ponies reared up and whinnied. Another two turned and bolted.

“Whoa Nelly…” said Applejack.

Pincers cruised by like levitating prisons amid the swinging iron chain. Behind them, the articulated arms creaked with the mechanical strain. And glaring down at them, the curl-fringed head bared fangs that could crumple a barn door and slice through stacked timber.

“Rarity!”

Yet Applejack was too late.

Rarity’s face stretched, widened, tried to hide behind her neck, trembled with the effort, and then screamed.

Instantly, whatever spell had kept them at least standing quietly now shattered. Wherever Applejack looked, panic leaped from pony to pony. In a group like this, ponies were just sheep. The herd lost its mind utterly, each and every one of them.

“No, wait! Stick together!”

Coco rammed into her, blinded by terror. Hooves pounded away. Kicked-up sand clung to her nose and eyes and mouth as she tried to call them back. Overhead, the Scorpony growled. It sounded for the moment uncertain, spoilt for choice.

“Rarity!”

There she is! Bouncing off and banging against the doors. Cheese’s shouts were lost to the screams, whinnies, and occasional monstrous growls.

Loyalty kicked her into gear. Applejack rushed forwards –

A leg crashed into the ground before her. Pincers clicked overhead.

“Rarity, you dummy! You’ve got the tiara! Use it! Use it!”

Another leg crashed, and then more of them thudded and scuttled over Applejack, eclipsing the sky and heading straight for Rarity, who stopped banging the doors. She pressed her back up against them. She screamed. Ponies ran about at random.

“Don’t split up!” Applejack galloped for the space between the legs for Rarity. “You’re just makin’ easy targets! Calm down!”

The tail thrashed the air in readiness.

It struck.

Rarity leaped aside, rolled, stumbled back onto all fours, and narrowly missed the second stab of the stinger. When the stinger withdrew, it left a hole in the sand itself.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Fury and fear threw Applejack towards the nearest of those craggy, misshapen limbs.

She yelped at the shock.

Thankfully, it also gave. Angry screeches met her ears. The aftershock rippled through her and she blundered away, cursing.

Another leg crashed right in front of her. Too late: she bounced off it and stumbled. Another crash woke her up at once. This was no time to be dazed.

Feldspar's voice boomed. “Whew! Finally we get some action! And wouldn't you know it, the cowpony's dishing out the dirt! Haha, it's funny because she's an earth pony.”

What the heck, what the heck, what the heck am Ah s’posed to DO!? Rarity! Coco! Gotta… We gotta do somethin’. Anythin’!

She saw the pincer make a grab for Rarity’s retreating tail. It missed. The other reached down instead.

“Ah said NO!” Applejack leaped up to ram the thing.

Except the creature pulled the punch seconds before she could meet it. And that was terrifying enough; the pincer moved so fast. It must’ve weighed half a ton at least, and yet it moved like a real scorpion’s.

She landed hard; one leg buckled. She forced it back up. No time for sprains either!

Something to kick. Something to ram. Anything. There was plenty on that mass of creepy-crawly armour and pony flesh. Only most of it was several feet off the ground.

“Wow, what a mess! Team Rosebud are in trouble! Only one of 'em knows how to kick, apparently, and she doesn't seem to know what she's doing. Pity if anything happened to her, eh?”

Applejack groaned. Feldspar's voice was drilling into her concentration.

She’d have to improvise. Farmers generally didn’t; pests were pests whatever generation they happened to be in. Most of the rulebooks for things like vampire fruit bats and thieving snakes had been written long ago.

Unthinking, she charged forwards.

Another pony ran past. She had to quickstep to stop them both colliding. The only loosely good thing to come out of it was that the Scorpony immediately switched targets; its bulk heaved around to begin the chase.

“What the hay?” she snapped at the retreating pony.

Applejack glanced across the dunes. Surely Team Backstabbers were going to creep up on them. That must have been the plan.

Nothing. No reactions. The team still hung around their entrance.

Come on! So what’s the deal with the bardin’, then!? She checked their own pile. In the mayhem, the lot had vanished.

She could only watch helplessly as one of her teammates zigzagged around the slamming pincers and lashing tail. Hardly any of the team remained this close to the Scorpony now. She looked about. Most of them were scattering across the dunes.

“Come back!” she called out.

Too late: most of them were out of earshot, and in their current panic she doubted it’d register anyway. It was worse than dealing with Ponyville during a stampede. At least there, she was known. She had a chance.

The Scorpony snatched. A yelp was cut off. Applejack winced. Dust clouds hid most of its lower half.

Someone screamed.

Slowly, surely, menacingly, creaking as though on axles, the Scorpony's head turned to look. It growled.

Coco and Rarity galloped towards the nearest of the rugged red stacks. Horribly exposed. Easy targets.

The next growl had overtones of “aha!”

Applejack was already moving before the creature’s outline shone purple and it half-phased, half-ploughed through the sands. Such was the earthquake in its wake that Applejack’s running hooves barely made contact half the time as she galloped alongside.

“Coco! Rarity! Incoming!”

Furious with herself, she unwrapped the Ice Lash. Stupid. Panicky. Even she’d been swept up in the chaos. Her diamond rope swished through the air in readiness.

The ground surged alongside her and then the moving dune rolled ahead, obscuring the bottom of the stack. Even over the grumble of strained sand, she heard two piercing screams.

As easily as before, the glowing purple body slid ghostlike out of the ground, followed by the crash of the sands as the bulk strained against its own phasing magic. At this distance, the creature was almost pony-sized. Applejack watched the tail curl round for attack.

One of the two ponies finally figured out how to work their weapon.

A white lance shot for the creature’s face. Instantly – far too fast – both pincers rose up as a shield. The light fractured and shot off around the obstruction. Overhead, hovering Diamond Bites darted down and intercepted the wayward beams before they hit the crowd. Some missed; the beams shot for the space above the arena walls and then hit a purple shield, which flared into existence as the energy dissipated.

“Would you look at that!” Feldspar yelled. “Whoa! Remind me not to spill cocktails on this connoisseur!”

Applejack saw through the Scorpony’s legs. Rarity’s tiara sparked and fired another shot. Instantly, the relaxing pincers rose up again.

“TAKE THAT, YOU RUFFIAN! NO! STAY AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY, YOU MONSTROUS BRUTE!”

But in between shots, the Scorpony crept closer, pausing only to shield itself. Already, it had backed both ponies up against the red rock face. Coco cowered behind Rarity’s fading glower. Eventually, even Rarity's eyes widened and she realized what was happening, yet more shots fired and the pincers tackled them easily. Diamond Bites zipped about, intercepting ricochets.

Applejack saw the tail whip downwards –

Instinct forced her to move before she realized she'd struck. Her Ice Lash moved so fast it wrapped around the middle of the tail like a whip. Applejack almost jumped off her hooves with the sudden tug.

The rope fell off. In her haste, she hadn’t adjusted for proper technique.

But the Scorpony had felt it.

The Scorpony glared over its shoulder.

Applejack aimed another whip-crack. That stung a back leg. She threw herself into another. Spite and anger were flexing and striking through her teeth and down the diamond chains to the tip. Another howl: the rope hit its carapace.

That’s what you get for messin’ with us.

Rapid retaliation struck. Applejack dodged around the crashing sands and went straight for its stamping legs – just like dodging barrels. She almost laughed. The thing couldn't aim for toffee.

Now the rope was in her mouth, the old habits came back. She rammed into another leg, and then used the rebound to shoot across and go for another one.

Except this time, she turned and bucked. Hard.

It was classic apple-bucking technique. She could fell trees with a move like this.

Screaming, the ceiling of armour shook above her and she galloped out before the whole thing crashed into the ground.

“Well, she's found a weak point,” said Feldspar as though the admission was pulling teeth. “I'll grant her that. Won't do her much good in the long run, though.”

Ha! Nuts to you, Feldspar! This is just a bigger rodeo. Apple-buckin’. Lassoin’. Dodgin'. Ropin'. Ah KNOW about that! Haha! Ah got it! You son of a gun, Ah got you bang to rights!

Old thrills returned like long-forgotten friends. She was home. At last, she was home!

“Now they got the pieces, what are they gonna do next?” said Feldspar.

Coco and Rarity took the hint; both made a break for it, but in opposite directions. Rarity slowed, looking over her shoulder. Looking at Applejack.

No! Just get outta here!

Rarity's slowness had not gone unnoticed. As soon as the Scorpony was up again, it whirled round and aimed a gaping pincer for the flapping tail.

Applejack’s rope met it halfway. This time, it wrapped the thing.

“Bull’s-eye!” she yelled, or at least something that sounded like it around the rope in her mouth.

And this is just tug-o’-war. She pulled.

And failed instantly. Shock snatched her up and over; the ground threw itself away and she felt her stomach lurch and she dangled from the rope. The Scorpony held her up, lifted her higher, and brought her angrily up to its face. What a face! The mouth could have been a cave.

It twitched. Tell-tale.

Applejack instantly let go. The second pincer snipped the air where, a fraction of a second before, it would’ve had her midriff.

She tumbled and grunted down the slope of a shallow dune. This time, there was plenty of time to be dazed. The sprain in her leg bit down hard. She winced.

Through the daze, she was dimly aware of the crowd’s cheering. Not very enthusiastically, but cheering nonetheless. Feldspar’s voice boomed. She couldn’t make out a word.

Senses trickled back. She got unsteadily to her hooves in time to see the Scorpony. To her satisfaction, its free pincer worried at the rope like a hedge clipper biting at iron chains. In fact, its own chains briefly got tangled up in the finicky work.

A good chunk of the team were dots around the arena. Applejack went cold. They were sitting ducks, and too far away for shouting.

Was it worth attacking the thing again? But she couldn’t keep bucking its legs forever; she’d get tired before it did. And with Team Backstabbers still out there…

She peered round the rock. Nope. Still lurking around the entrance. What were they up to?

With a triumphant roar, the Scorpony flicked the rope off its trapped pincer. Applejack turned around in time to see the coils slap onto the ground and the tail retreat, job done. Its gaze fell on her.

“Come on,” she murmured. “You don’t wanna fight any more than Ah do. Let it go.”

Maybe if she ran really fast, she could snatch up the rope…

One pincer rose threateningly. So it wasn’t entirely stupid.

“ONCE MORE UNTO THE BRRRRRREEEEEAAAAAACCCCCCHHHHHH!”

Startled, it turned to follow the returning figure of Rarity. Whether through loyalty or desperation, she was the only pony making any kind of effort.

The Scorpony growled uncertainly. It began scuttling towards her.

Applejack was already galloping when Rarity fired the shot. The Scorpony blocked. It spotted Applejack, but she grabbed the rope and turned her stumble into a rolling tumble before the strike got anywhere near her.

What are we s’posed to do? Can’t hit it, can’t bring it down, sure as heck can’t kill it.

Seriously? “Can’t kill it”? What are you, Fluttershy? It’s that thing or us! No choice there! Get it down and get it down fast!

Rarity fired. A slash: she leaped over the scything pincer and managed a twirl around the punching tail. Another slash: when it cleared, Rarity spread herself flat on her back and flipped aside delicately. Throughout, her face was set in ice.

As soon as it scuttled closer for the next slash, Applejack whipped at its legs, and in that moment noticed the sparkles on its back. Just below where the pony torso met scorpion segments, a slight hollow rattled with the armour in it. All the barding.

A clue? After all, so many creatures in Equestria eat shiny things.

Yet more swipes and slashes cut through her concentration. She lashed out. The Scorpony’s tail caught on the rope, but Applejack had expected this and yanked it skilfully off before the tail could tug the rope, with her on it or not. She was not falling for that again.

But it was slowing. The creature's face widened with doubt and fear.

Rarity fired. The Scorpony turned to block, and Applejack lunged for the opportunity and for its legs. The Ice Lash cracked off an errant pincer.

Roars of Scorpony pain and confusion punctuated the fire-lash-fire-lash attacks. Too many targets, too many hits. Now it was reduced to blocking one pincer for each pony, one juddering under Rarity’s shots, one getting scuff marks from Applejack’s rope.

If her mouth wasn’t full, she’d laugh. This was just a bigger rodeo. Nothing to it. The crowd were cheering louder. Perhaps they could wear it down?

Haha! We still got a chance! Applejack’s spirits rose and she almost, almost whooped around the next crack of the whip.

Then she thought, Ah, what the heck? Why not?

She laughed, loud and long and loving every second. Sooner or later, they'd have their chance. She was sure of it.

Only then did she wonder why Feldspar was so eerily quiet.

The Preliminary Match: The Deserter

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Once more, the shield flared and then vanished. Coco watched another lance of white ricochet off the pincer and hit the purple dome before both faded away. The crowd behind the protective dome cheered anew.

“What do we do? What do we do? What do we DO!?” Shame rushed through her. Hold it together, Coco! We have to do something! We can’t just leave them to struggle like this!

When the shield flared again, the top of the encircling wall blazed with a thin purple line for just a moment. Part of her mind – amid all the terror, desperately splashing for a life raft – wondered if there were power crystals hidden within.

Suri hung back. If only I could control myself like she can! She’s not even breathing hard. Just staring.

“Suri!” It was a disgraceful impulse, but Coco was beyond caring. “You always took charge! What do we do now?!”

“Me!?” Suri’s voice broke. “Kid, I’m not going anywhere near that thing, OK?”

“We have to do something! We can’t just sit here!”

“Well, what are you waiting for, you mook?” Suri spat. “You wanna do something, go do it. Sheesh, do you ever think for yourself?”

The words slapped Coco round the face. “Wh-What?”

“Look, think about it. They’re doing fine. Don’t, uh, don’t wanna put ‘em off their concentration, right? But you wanna play hero with ‘em, be my guest. No one’s stopping you.”

Coco groaned and looked away. Now more than ever, she hated Suri. Words turned to poison in that mouth. The mare always sounded so… so sensible. There was something about her that made Coco feel very, very stupid.

Indecision held her at bay.

She cast about, desperate for anything – a trigger, a clue, some concrete thing that would fit into what was left of her mind – and spotted the opposing team on the other side. They were obviously waiting for the Scorpony to do all the work.

Another screech ripped through the air; the Scorpony was getting impatient. She thanked the world again and again for giving her heroes to fight on her side.

Part of her hated the idea. Dependent again.

Around the arena, the other ponies had stopped galloping. Either they’d run out of breath or they’d stopped just to watch the fight. Perhaps they’d figured out how much rode on it.

If Applejack and Rarity went down, the thing could pick them off one by one…

Still, her legs were rooted to the spot. She liked the Scorpony a long, long way away.

“Huh,” said Suri behind her.

When Coco turned to look, Suri was staring out at the centre of the dunes. Coco immediately followed her gaze.

“What is it?” Coco said. “Will it help?”

“That Scorpony left a trail of weapons. See them crystal thingies?”

Focusing, Coco definitely caught a glint here and there. A staff lay on a peak. A hoof device twinkled near the shadow of a red arch. A kind of scythe had been dropped in the middle of a relatively flat patch.

“Right along the Scorpony’s path, see?” said Suri.

There was a strange flatness in her voice. It was as though she were distancing herself from the words.

Coco swallowed. “That monster took their weapons too. But why?”

“Come on, kid. Keep up. Team Backstabbers dumped anything and everything shiny. Don’t you know jack about Scorponies?”

“Well, how do you know about it?” Coco snapped. It must’ve been the panic talking; Suri’s obnoxious tones suddenly filled her with the dread certainty that they should not exist.

Suri was eerily silent.

And avoiding Coco’s eye.

That was like the day turning blue without the sun.

“They guard treasure,” said Suri, appearing to talk to the crowd on the far side of the arena. “That dirty rat Feldspar must’ve pinched the treasure along with the Scorpony. No wonder it’s gone crazy for shinies.”

Warning bells went off in Coco’s head. “Suri, you live in the city. How do you know this?”

For the longest time, Suri said nothing. She continued to stare as though contemplating the horror of all the cheering.

She turned away from Coco. She took a few steps towards the centre until a Diamond Bite swooped down to hover a few feet ahead.

Coco’s brain sent urgent demands to her legs. The ice of fear began to crack. She rose a leg to take a first step.

“S-Suri?” she said. “What’s wrong?”

And then Feldspar’s voice echoed across the arena. “Oh my, sports fans! Looks like there’s some drama developing among the roses!”

Suri’s face instantly appeared on all screens. She might have been staring into the depths of Tartarus.

She said: “I’m announcing… a backstab.”

Gasps ran along the crowd. Theatrical gasps. This was all just a bunch of ponies playing along.

“Oh dear!” Feldspar was almost laughing. “Shock! Horror! Betrayal!”

When Suri turned round, the device on her hoof aimed.

She fired.

Coco flinched. The beam shot past her, and before she had time to turn around, a nearby teammate screamed. The beam hit. The scream died. There was a flash.

Afterwards, the pony was gone.

Everything inside Coco was blinded. She couldn’t move. Sheer terror told her she’d only have seconds to waste it.

Suri aimed at her.

“Sorry, kid,” said Suri. For once, she meant it. There was no trace of smugness in the voice. Her face was still staring into some torturous underworld.

Only Coco’s jaw trembled. “S-Suri… p-p-please… I-I kn-know we had our… our d-differences, b-but… You wouldn’t… You’re not… Just please… Please, no…”

White specks glowed within the hoof device. “Feldspar and I had a little natter before the match. I’m just doing a job.”

“Suri…” Lights grew brighter. Sounds became stabbing pains in her ears. Her senses scrabbled in desperation, grabbing details, seizing upon anything at all.

“I’m sorry, kid! It’s nothing personal. But it’s either you or me, and I sure as heck ain’t letting it be me!”

She’ll do it. She’ll do it. She’s never held back before. She always knew what she was doing. Oh no, oh no, oh no, please no, don’t let it end like this! I had dreams! I wanted to make dresses again! No! There’s still too much to do… and… I…

What’s she waiting for?

Suri was shaking.

And not firing.

Coco licked her lips. “Suri, think! You’re not a monster! You’re still a pony inside, like me! Don’t do this, please!”

Suri stopped shaking. “I don’t have a choice. Eat or be eaten.”

Rocks roared in protest and collapsed. Suri turned to look. Coco stared past her, and instantly the Scorpony stumbled through the red dust floating down amid a scattering of stones. It lashed out, batting away another lash of the rope, and looked up. In that fatal moment, it spotted the pair of them.

Clearly, it wanted easier prey. The stumble became a determined scuttle.

By then, Suri had dropped the device and galloped away, yelling, “Oh heck no! You’re on your own, kid!”

Instead, the Scorpony’s shadow soon loomed over Coco. Too late, she backed away. A pincer filled the world. Two rows of fangs parted like the gates of a graveyard.

Much, much too late, she cast about for a weapon. A device. Anything.

Someone hit Coco; they tackled her hard. She squeaked as she tumbled. Strong limbs gripped her in a full embrace.

She’d never faced anything so rough, not even at school when she’d been knocked about during dodgeball practice. And that had been years ago. She never felt so helpless.

Rarity let her go and stood up, tall and towering like the world’s most beautiful gym instructor. “Coco! You poor dear. Are you quite all right?”

Irritation vanished beneath the tidal wave of relief. “You… You just… saved me.”

“You were expecting anything different? Please excuse me. I hate to tackle and run, but –” Rarity shot past her, towards the increasingly strained bellows of the Scorpony.

Does she know? She doesn’t know!? Duty forced Coco to her feet and to a gallop after the retreating tail. A task to do, and then she could find some respite.

“Rarity!” Coco yelled. “Watch out for Suri! She’s on their side!”

“Keep an eye out for her, then!” The order was hasty; Rarity was already firing another shot from her tiara’s gemstone. This time, it smacked into the back of the Scorpony’s head and Applejack’s whip rapped it across the sting trying to stab them both.

Coco sighed. Keep an eye out for her. She could do that. She clung on to the order. She didn’t want to drown again.

No one was on the nearby dunes, at least.

Wild with rage, the pincers no longer even aimed. They just swiped randomly, hoping to slash something meaningful. Applejack’s diamond rope lassoed one, then wrapped around the other. By the time the creature had coaxed its stinger into the knots and wrappings, Rarity’s shots batted it about the head. Rarity moved in a ballet, sweeping and swishing her tail while she volleyed from one side and then slid around to fire at the other. Coco found it both impossible and undeniable that she were the same dressmaker she met so long ago.

They’re amazing. Such teamwork! Such confidence! Oh, I wish I had half of their strength. Rarity, how can you sow beautiful dresses and then pull something like this?

Remembering herself, she checked. No sign of Suri anywhere.

After much fiddling, the rope tumbled to the ground. Applejack tried to leap and grab it until the Scorpony crouched low enough to bite. Instead, it snapped on empty air. Worse, the tail now flexed and curled and batted aside Rarity’s shots no matter how randomly she weaved and dodged.

They fight together like such good friends. I wish more than anything I had friends like that. Think of all the happy years I could’ve had. It’s like my childhood’s come back…

Rapidly, the Scorpony spun round. Sheer turbulence knocked Applejack and Rarity backwards as pincers and tail and general bulk swept around.

Coco took a deep breath. Rarity might still be a kind of boss, but she was a fellow dressmaker. Maybe they were close enough to be friends?

Still no Suri.

She could risk it.

She had to do something. She wanted to do something. But did she really dare to do it?

Rarity stood panting and heaving and not even looking up as the Scorpony effortlessly sauntered closer.

Coco charged forwards.

As soon as she did so, the talisman bounced off her chest. To her amazement, she’d gone all this time without even noticing it.

Overhead, the Scorpony reared up onto four of its eight legs and drew back both pincers. Coco reached Rarity in time to meet the downward stabbing and push her out of the way.

The world around both ponies flashed white.

Coco blinked.

When the world came back, it shimmered under a dull blue crackling veneer. Everything suddenly seemed very, very depressed. Next to her, Rarity was covered head-to-hoof in the same crackling veneer, only more concentrated. Coco’s skin tingled. Her own hoof crackled too.

The Scorpony turned to face them, and then kept on turning. Puzzled growling: the creature looked left and right.

Beyond it, Applejack looked… broadly in their direction. She too creased her brow with puzzlement.

Talisman glowed on Coco’s neck. She tapped it once. The world flashed again.

Instantly, the crackling veneer was gone. Equally instantly, both Scorpony and Applejack spotted them.

“What just happened?” said Rarity quietly.

Puzzlement was past; the Scorpony raised a pincer – and yelped and cringed when Applejack’s rope cracked near its ear. Yet turning around, it completely missed Applejack running through its legs to meet them.

“Nicely done, partner!” She nodded to Coco. “Looks like you got a good ‘un round your neck.”

“Applejack! Focus!”

“Oh, right. Sorry, Rarity.” Before Coco could even register the comment, Applejack stiffened. “We can’t keep goin’ one at a time on it. We gotta nab every weapon it’s got, all at once. So here’s what we do.”

The Scorpony spun round again, and its roar had a certain “There you are!” quality to it.

“Rarity-you-get-all-three-in-place-at-once-Ah’ll-do-the-rest-got-it?” Applejack rushed back into the exploding dune and bursting roars.

Rarity sighed. “I hate it when she does that.”

“What should I do?” said Coco eagerly.

“Watch for Suri!”

Embarrassed, Coco’s gaze jumped from dune to dune. Luck was on her side for now. No ambushers.

Stomps, kicks, slashes: by the end of it, Applejack was on the other side of a beast trying to fight things moving too fast. Rarity slid into place alongside her.

“Give me a boost!” Rarity clambered onto the strong back.

I’m joining in. Where’s everyone else? Coco scanned again. Apart from the odd dot here and there, she couldn’t see her team at all. Cheese’s anxious face stared out from the screen over the entrance. Around them, the crowd chanted, “FINISH! FINISH! FINISH! FINISH!”

Applejack kicked off hard. Rarity soared in a graceful arc.

Coco held her breath.

As though in slow motion, she saw the Scorpony’s glare trace the rising unicorn. Its head tilted back. Rarity began to rotate for a flip any choreographer would die for. Her tiara tumbled away.

Pincers rose up to meet it. Tail rose up to meet her.

And then Applejack’s rope finally struck like a snake, and all speed came back.

Rarity landed less elegantly on the other side, leaving behind a Scorpony thoroughly trussed. Pincers and tail were lost to a mass of coiled diamond links. Pulling, screeching, stamping: nothing was left or could manage to untangle it.

Coco checked again. No ambushers. Good.

For the finisher, Applejack bobbed between its legs. A kick: one leg tumbled like a tree. Another kick: the side of the creature teetered dangerously far. She zigzagged and bucked, and the whole thing howled and screamed and yelped as Applejack rolled and ducked out of the shadow before carapace, legs, and side crashed like an avalanche onto the dunes and vanished.

When the dust cloud cleared, the Scorpony lay on its side. Furiously, it utterly failed to untie the rope. It began to whimper.

Applause ran around the arena. Writhing bodies flashed on and off.

“What a beautiful take-out, eh?” Feldspar’s voice struggled not to be impressed. “I’m telling you, nothing’s as good as some old-fashioned teamwork. Am I right, ponies?!”

“YEAH!” went the crowd. “TEAMWORK! TEAMWORK! TEAMWORK! TEAMWORK!”

“My word,” muttered Rarity between the chants. “They’ll cheer anything.”

She was a war between white coat and yellow dust. Her curls had locks sticking out at odd angles like broken limbs, but at least she wasn’t breathing too hard. Coco looked at these and saw gold dust and stylish rogues.

“You… were…” she began.

Applejack strode over. Unlike Rarity, she wasn’t remotely out of breath, but Coco winced at the battering ram of musk and hot scents weighing her down.

“Ah swear,” growled Applejack. “When Ah get mah legs around that lowlife Feldspar’s dirty neck, Ah swear she’s gonna wish she never put us through this.”

The chants sounded much further away now. To Coco’s surprise, Rarity smiled. Still caked in dust, the dressmaker guided a gentle hoof onto Applejack’s shoulder.

The way they look at each other…

Applejack chuckled and smiled back. There were unspoken words here. Coco marvelled; they could speak without language, almost without bodies in the way at all.

A spark bloomed into life. In the hearth of her heart, light glowed again.

“You’re incredible,” she said before she could stop herself. Even when they looked at her, she couldn’t resist adding, “Both of you. The teamwork, the risks you took, the… the way you just don’t give up for each other.”

“A li’l diff’rent in Manehattan, huh?” Applejack winked at her.

“Not when I knew Charity Kindheart. That’s what you remind me of. I… I feel like I’m back there again.”

“It’s like Applejack said.” Rarity looked down. “What happened to my coat? Oh my, oh my, oh my! What happened to my coat!? Ew! It’s filthy! Get it off!”

Coco and Applejack looked past the half-hearted struggling of the Scorpony, up the wall, and at the shrieking crowds around them. What little spark lurked in Coco’s chest now died away.

“Wait a moment…” she said.

Rarity stopped moaning. “What?”

Something clicked nearby.

Applejack looked around. Coco looked around. Rarity looked around.

While the Scorpony howled piteously, several gruff voices guffawed. From every direction.

Panic seeped in. Coco gulped.

“Oh no…”

Team Backstabbers had them entirely surrounded.

Rarity felt the wind retreat from her sails. She almost deflated on the spot. To have gotten so swept up in the moment…

“Oh no…” Coco breathed.

Thickset ponies encircled them, at least ten at a glance. While Rarity looked around for possible escape, she backed into Applejack. Every criminal bore scars or rugged beards or suits and hats that just screamed “gangster”. More to the point, they bore weapons. Crystal weapons.

“Any ideas?” Applejack whispered out of the corner of her mouth.

Rarity forced herself not to weep. “Not even one.”

A Diamond Bite floated into place overhead and split open, revealing a screen. Caballeron’s foul, diabolical little smile leered down at them.

“Ah, such a shame,” he said, and somewhere in the grip of dread and guilt, Rarity wondered what that accent was supposed to be. “Such fighting spirit, such beauty, such teamwork. If only we had met under more fortunate circumstances, I would be honoured to invite you to dinner –”

“Get stuffed, Caba-what’s-it-called,” Applejack snapped.

Caballeron’s grin tightened for a moment. “Don’t flatter yourself too much, country girl. Although I will admit to some admiration, you were not who I was speaking to. I am a stallion of wealth and taste, or at least, aheh, I should be.”

He winked at Rarity.

Mad with embarrassment, outrage, and a kind of exhausted quasi-delirium, Rarity snapped, “Is this some last-minute torture session? We have to hear you blabber on before we go?”

“Manners, manners, my dear. I’d hate to send you off like some common thug.”

Nearby, Suri cantered over the dune and skidded to a halt. The last criminal received the last weapon from her outstretched hoof and immediately aimed it at Coco, who was nearest.

Rarity glowered at her. A backstabber to the end. How fitting. You could at least look me in the eye, you coward.

“You were smart enough to discard your armour,” purred Caballeron cheerfully. “But you should’ve discarded the weapons too. And, of course, your magnificent battle provided all the distraction poor Suri here needed to retrieve ours again. Excellent work, Suri.”

Cringing and coughing, Suri tugged at her neckerchief. “Uh, yeah, well, you know, right?”

Rarity’s expression softened. Suri was restlessly looking about and fidgeting: far more nervous than the steady criminals.

No! Don’t pity her! Perhaps she merely feels out of her class!

A motion: Caballeron’s gaze flickered past Rarity for a moment.

“Touch that invisibility jewel,” he snapped, “and you’re doomed.”

Coco whimpered. Oh, Coco. It was worth a try.

“Ah well,” he said with a chuckle. “You’re doomed anyway. What does it matter?” Turning back to Rarity, he continued, “Fate indeed has not been kind to us, ma cherie. Perhaps there is still a way yet for you to be spared…?”

A thud.

Rarity turned her head, and over Applejack’s stare and Coco’s frightened squeak, a pair of fists slammed into the dune, blasting sand into the air.

“CABALLERON!” roared Ahuizotl.

Even the criminals – armed and aiming – went pale, whimpered, flinched, and inched away.

This close, Ahuizotl was a looming beast. His pointed ears, pointed snout, angular muscled limbs, and bared incisors like knives seemed to burst as spikes through whatever veneer of self-control wrapped around him. His tail ended with a hand like a tuft, but silly as it looked, it only made clear what wild power hung in the rear legs of a jaguar, in the gorilla arms and jackal head. Even his tiny eyes at the end of his long snout merely exaggerated the size of his bite. In fact, the only sign he was even remotely civilized was the jewellery; gold cuffs restrained his hands, and a gold collar forced his neck to hold the bite in check.

Rarity quailed. Last time she’d faced him, she’d had all her friends with her. And Daring Do. He’d only stopped once they brought down the temple on top of him. Besides, there’d been all that running.

“Enough with these pointless banter-talk!” he snapped. “Destroy them all now!”

But Caballeron merely grinned all the more widely. Despite herself, Rarity was impressed.

“I don’t recall you being Team Captain, my good friend,” he said smoothly. “We’re not in the jungle anymore.”

“Fool! I will rip you limb from limb! Idiots talk! Warriors fight!”

“Oh, really?” Caballeron’s cold voice now made ice look rough. “That is an interesting perspective coming from Lord Easily-Escapable Deathtrap himself. Perhaps Feldspar should have made you Team Captain, though it seems we’re a little short on piranha taAAAH AHHH!”

Suri yelped and backed off hurriedly. Criminals muttered urgently.

Behind Ahuizotl, the ground shifted. Groaning, sobbing, and still struggling, the Scorpony heaved itself back up.

“Whoa Nelly,” said Applejack. “Get ready for round two.”

The creature screamed. It struggled to untangle itself. Thundering randomly, it zigzagged towards them, half-blinded by crying. Rarity barely noticed two of the criminals yelling and bolting before the Scorpony’s pitifully moaning approach drove all distraction out of her mind.

Ahuizotl turned and stared up for a moment.

She and Applejack crouched at once to leap. If only she had the tiara –

He leaped.

Screeching, the Scorpony’s tear-streaked face didn’t even wince as Ahuizotl clambered over it. The creature was too busy shaking the Ice Lash wrapped around its weapons.

On its back, Ahuizotl braced his legs, seized its curls in two great handfuls, and pulled.

At once, the screeching shot through several octaves and stabbed into their ears. Rarity winced and Coco cried out in pain. The Scorpony’s head jerked back. It winced.

Ahuizotl yanked harder.

Then the Scorpony wailed as its head jerked further back, and then face, neck, chest, underside, and tail rushed up and over before the whole creature curled round and over, and finally it crashed facedown onto the dune.

Ahuizotl landed before the settling clouds.

“Whoa,” said Applejack.

The Ice Lash and tiara tumbled away from the body. An occasional leg twitched. Otherwise, the Scorpony was eerily still.

“We’re doomed,” moaned Coco.

“Less of that talk,” squeaked Rarity. “Please?”

Even the criminals nodded, impressed. Ahuizotl strode over to the circle.

“Now!” he yelled. “Enough playing-charades! The crowd hungers for dripping-blood! Deliver! Now!”

This time, Caballeron kept his mouth firmly closed. Not even pretending to look to him for orders, the criminals aimed. Nearby, Suri closed her eyes and turned away.

Surprise running through his voice, Caballeron said, “Well, uh… any last words, ma cherie?”

Rarity sighed with relief. Thank the stars for crooks that waste time.

“In fact,” she said weakly, “I’ve got a list of proposed last words somewhere. If you’d just be a dear and let me go fetch it –”

“NOW!” roared Ahuizotl. She was really starting to hate his voice.

Weapons charged up around them, humming and whirring.

“Applejack,” she whispered while a couple of nearby crooks chuckled. “Before we go… I just wanted to say… I…”

Her heart squeezed her chest with fear. She might as well have been a filly again. Everything inside her was much too big, much too outrageous, for one small unassuming body to contain. Surely, surely it couldn’t!

“It’s… been an absolute pleasure… to have you as a friend,” she settled for, somewhat lamely in the circumstances.

Warmly, Applejack replied, “Ah don’t regret nothin’, Rarity. ‘Cept maybe how much of a pain Ah was when we had that sleepover. An’ some of the comments about the dresses. An’ that business with Trenderhoof, ‘cause that frou-frouey getup was itchy as heck –”

Rarity sighed. “Honest unto the end.”

“Aheh. Sorry.”

Rarity wondered if they should touch hooves or something. She just wished she knew how to deal with Coco.

“Jus’ one thing…” murmured Applejack.

“Yes?”

“Really? A list of last words?”

“Well, I wanted them to be just right.”

“Oh. Ah see. Ah kinda like that friend one, if that helps.”

Rarity smiled. “Farewell, dear Applejack.”

The nearest criminal was lost to a starlight glow. She stared it down. Defiant unto the end.

“OW!” It went out. The criminal went flying.

Before the neighbouring criminals could react, an orange blur shot between them. Two more thumps. One doubled up, clutching his stomach. Another rolled backwards and tumbled down to the bottom of the dune, out of sight.

“GET DOWN!” Applejack’s weight slammed onto Rarity’s back. She heard Coco give an “OOMPH!” beside her, and then the air overhead blazed with dozens of shots.

Rarity spat sand out of her mouth. “What is it!?”

“It’s the orange pony!”

Yelps and cries ran around the ring. Ahuizotl and Caballeron barked orders, drowning each other out. Even the crowd began yelling and crying out with excitement.

“My word!” shouted Feldspar while more criminals groaned and grunted. “What a twist! Who is this gal!? I’ve never seen such skill!”

Intrigued, Rarity risked a peek.

Half the criminals had vanished. They’d been stupid to stand in a complete circle; when they’d missed, one half must’ve shot the other half. What was left now surged forwards or backed off warily. Orange bursts of activity knocked more of them down. The attacker herself was hard to spot, moving so fast and so carefully that half the time, the criminals were kicking or punching each other.

A nearby fallen crook struggled dazedly to his hooves. Rarity shot up at once, knocking Applejack over. Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you!

“Now’s our chance!” She seized Applejack’s hoof and pulled a cowering Coco onto her feet. Around the latter’s neck, the blue talisman tangled. Waiting for no one, Rarity hit it.

Joyful relief swept through her. They were instantly smothered by the dull blue crackling veneer. It covered her vision, tinting the arena and the sands, and it was thickest around her limbs – when she looked down to check – and Coco’s body. Smothering them both with its spell, she was sure of it.

“Applejack?” Puzzled, she looked round.

The orange pony knocked the last would-be attacker up and over, before –

“Look out!” Rarity pointed.

Then she remembered no one could see her.

Distracted by the shout, the orange pony didn’t notice Ahuizotl until his leap ended with a thud, and his fist shot round as she turned –

WHAM!

Coco actually leaped with shock. The orange pony flew backwards, across the scattered bodies. She burst through the surprised image of Caballeron’s face, convulsed with arcs of electric shocks for a moment, and then disappeared behind an explosion of Diamond Bite shards to continue right across to…

Rarity winced at the impact.

When the dust cleared on the nearby slope, a small crater surrounded the pain-clenched pony. She shuddered, clutching her underbelly. Her face twitched.

Suri stood at the peak of the dune. Clearly, she’d gotten out of dodge fast.

Ahuizotl snorted with contempt. “Annoying vermin-pest.”

Sparks ran along the orange pony’s body.

“That poor mare,” whispered Coco.

Ahuizotl’s ear cocked. He looked right at them. Too late, Coco clapped her hooves over her mouth.

“AHA!” He crouched to pounce.

If only she’d been a bit faster, Applejack might have made the kick land. As it was, she came up behind and aimed and only met air before Ahuizotl leaped out of range. Fists and paws thudded the ground.

Both circled each other, predator and prey silently sizing up their chances. Nearby, the Scorpony lay unconscious.

Applejack, no. Please no. Not you. Not when we were so close!

Rarity cast about. Plenty of weapons strewn about. She stepped away from Coco to examine them. Instantly, the blue crackling cut out. A range limit, or so it seemed.

“Rarity!” hissed Coco. “What are you doing?”

“Improvising. It’s what a dressmaker does!”

Growls and thumps: she looked up in time to see them both bounce off each other and recover from their lunges.

She looked at the nearest weapon: a staff, pulsing gently. Next to it lay a flail. A double-ended mace lay near that. She had no idea how any of this stuff worked.

“Curse that wretched Feldspar,” she hissed. “Sick, twisted, arrogant, unhelpful, cocky little –”

Some of these things could kill. The thought briefly made her hesitate.

Applejack cried out; a hit had landed. By the sound of the thud, it had landed hard. Body tumbled over the sands.

The thought vanished from Rarity’s mind at once. Kill or not, this ended now.

Instantly, Ahuizotl yelped and tumbled backwards. She glanced up. Both combatants were back to circling each other. Neither had a clear advantage; Applejack limped slightly, and Ahuizotl winced on every other step.

Enough of this! I can’t take it anymore!

Rarity’s horn glowed. She raised whatever met her hoof and threw it.

The double-headed mace went spinning, spinning, spinning right towards Ahuizotl’s rising head and widening shock.

She’d treasure the sound for as long as she lived.

It was classic.

Ahuizotl went down like a toppled statue.

One spiky head of the mace landed deep into the sands beside him. She almost wept for how perfectly the angle was slanted. A sword landing pointy-end-down couldn’t have looked more elegant.

The crowd applauded. Applejack limped over to her, whispering “ouch” every other step. Criminals around them whimpered and twitched. Pity forced Rarity forwards to take the weight, and Applejack for once didn’t protest.

“Nice throw,” she said calmly. “Remind me never to play horseshoes against you.”

“Enough with the stubborn act, please. Where are you hurt?”

“Ain’t hurt exactly – ouch – jus’ a bit shaken up RARITY BEHIND YOU!”

“What?” She spun round.

Suri stopped creeping towards them. She raised the hoof device.

A thud.

Suri’s careful, concentrated look remained. She lowered her hoof. She began to lean to one side. She opened her mouth as though gaping at them, and then gurgled and fell further and slowly folded up and hit the ground.

Behind her, the orange pony massaged a hoof.

In their local oasis of calm, another Diamond Bite zipped into view and opened up. Cheese’s face beamed at them.

“Listen to that crowd! You girls put on a fantastic show! This is great! We’re bound to get a lot of credit for this, you mark my –”

The orange pony threw something. Sparks and sizzling broke the screen and the shards rained down. A crystal staff fell among them.

“That was beyond good timing! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart!” Rarity said; Applejack gently pushed her away and stood on her own. Coco reappeared in a flash.

Unexpectedly, the orange pony glared at them. She said nothing.

Rarity burst with relief and sheer, giggling joy at still being alive. She couldn’t believe this pony was still as stoic as when they’d started. A deep, unreadable pit opened up between them.

Then the orange pony’s lips parted. In a cold command, she spoke.

“This game isn’t over yet,” she said.

The words took a while to sink in. Rarity gestured to the prone bodies all around.

“B-But, but… we won! Don’t you see? We’ve beaten the other team.”

“Not quite.” Applejack’s voice was tight, restrained, almost cracking with the effort. Her gaze was locked onto the speaker’s podium. A white dot indicated an approaching Diamond Bite.

“Wh-What do you m-mean, ‘not quite’?” said Rarity. Her heart sank. She was just about ready to collapse. What else were they supposed to pull off?

The orange pony still remained expressionless. That – more than any terror or fury or pitiable, twisted misery – frightened Rarity more. She barely seemed alive.

The orange pony said, “You forget what ‘Deathmatch’ means.”

The Preliminary Match: A Deadly Stunt

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Applejack heard the word over and over in her head. Deathmatch. Deathmatch. Deathmatch.

Coco and Rarity turned to her. As the white dot grew, she could see the Diamond Bite was leading a white platform. Rearing behind a hovering speaker’s stand on top, Officer Feldspar had the same manic grin from before.

Slowly, Applejack looked down. The criminals who were still conscious struggled to move, let alone escape.

She didn’t even hear common sense calling her name. Gaze fixed on Feldspar, she reached for the nearest dropped weapon.

“Ladies! That was the fight of the century, and we’ve barely gotten started!” Feldspar’s platform hovered a few feet overhead, and it was exactly like the boulder of a desk. Applejack had to crane her head to see.

Neither Rarity nor Coco spoke, though Rarity glowered and Coco crouched. Beside them all, the Diamond Bite patiently recorded the scene for the screens to display.

“You hear that?” Feldspar cupped an ear with pastern and hoof; around them, the chanting crowd raised their voices. “The crowd loves you! You are exactly what I promised: the greatest heroes the galaxy has ever known! Why, their spirits couldn’t be higher if we went into space! I’d almost call that a heavenly manifestation.” She wiped an eye. “It’s… too much. It really is.”

No one responded. Feldspar’s grin, never far away, came back doubled.

“Now, to business. Some slick moves today, girls – disarming Team Backstabbers is worth a trophy in itself! – but this isn’t ballet or the circus. Your enemies are helpless! Take the initiative! Twelve hits, and the round’s yours.”

Applejack shook with sheer hatred.

“Unless, of course, you’re going to be unwise enough as to forfeit. And we all know who’s going to get the chop if that happens.” Feldspar giggled. “Don’t we?”

“You can’t be serious!” Rarity stamped a hoof. “I absolutely refuse to partake of this disgusting barbarity!”

“Woo, a lot of long words, Your Majesty.” Feldspar gave a mock bow. “Is that the royal speech over and done with? You know what we did to our queens a long time ago, right? I’d think a little more deeply, if I were you.”

Coco looked helplessly from Applejack to Rarity, apparently waiting for a clue.

Feldspar’s grin faltered. “Well? Don’t just stand there soaking up the glory! DO IT!”

Deathmatch. Deathmatch. Deathmatch. Deathmatch…

Applejack swallowed.

Well, yes, during the actual fighting, she’d constantly felt the patient gaze of death waiting at any moment, like a predator, to spring its trap. She still rushed with blood even now. It should have settled down, but it too could hear the roar of the crowd. What else could she have done?

Whatever she hoped for, she’d never get away with it. Feldspar didn’t look like an understanding pony. Certainly not one to let a slave push her luck too many times. Why would she? The crystal pony had reserves, and even without “guest stars”, she could even go hunting for more victims.

Anyway, who’d care about a few criminals? The world would be much better off without them.

Horror flooded through her at the thought.

Rarity couldn’t do it, and Coco certainly wouldn’t. Oh, no. They’d all come from Equestria, and however many enemies they’d faced, actual fatalities inflicted by them – the ponies – were a whopping zero. Even in the Crystal Empire, they’d barely been involved with whatever magic had blown the evil king away. That was all the work of the subjects.

Killing just wasn’t how it was done.

The worst part was that she was starting to wonder why.

There’d been foes who’d turned over a new leaf, sure. In other cases, what was the point when locking the things away in Tartarus or throwing them halfway across the world had done the job? Even now, they’d been shockingly lucky, and neither a monster like Ahuizotl nor a mindless beast like the Scorpony had suffered anything they couldn’t walk off.

But Apple Bloom’s face, frozen in ice, lurked inside her head. The pony who’d done that was coming towards her right now, grinning like a child, seeing what Applejack was seeing, and enjoying it.

Bracing her legs, she tightened her muscles. She’d fight monsters for Apple Bloom. Anything to knock them down.

Anything to make sure they never, ever got back up again.

Giggling, Feldspar leaned forwards. “Don’t even try it, sweetheart. The Bubbling Ether Shield technology protects me as well as the crowd. You wouldn’t have a chance for a second shot.”

Applejack ground her teeth.

She looked to Coco and Rarity. Neither of them moved. Both of them were looking at her. She couldn’t. Not in front of Rarity. Not in front of both of them. If she did, she wouldn’t be Applejack. It was as certain as the hat.

Ah’m sorry, Apple Bloom.

As soon as she thought it, anger rose up in her mind. She had to do it. Precisely for Apple Bloom. What were these lowlifes compared to her?

And then afterwards she could explain it all to Apple Bloom, and her sister would be safe. Her sister would…

Would…

Would she ever look at Applejack the same way again?

Her insides seemed to be running red hot, burning with friction, crushing and squeezing each other between two worlds too large for one body to contain. She couldn’t move.

At least they’d still be around.

But she wouldn’t, would she? Not Apple Bloom? Not the same filly who wore the oversized Stetson and cheered on her big sister, who could do no wrong?

Sweat sizzled on her skin. Any moment, she must break.

The orange pony stepped forwards. “If you will not do it, then I will.”

“No!” Coco said before quailing under her own outburst’s echoes. The orange pony glowered at her.

“We can’t jus’ do it,” said Applejack. Newfound certainty rushed through her throat. “That ain’t the Equestrian way.”

“What choice is there?” said the orange pony with the calm, infuriating tones of reason. “Pragmatically, if we fail we die. If we succeed, we live. One way offers no hope, the other offers our only hope. Who else could say they’d do better under our circumstances?”

“That ain’t right,” said Applejack, but she could feel its cold rationality creeping up on her. The strain inside her eased.

“No? Or else you’d prefer to risk your life and ours for the sake of street rats?” Even her contemptuous kick was mechanically exact, making a nearby criminal flinch with the sand kicked up.

“But we’re supposed to be heroes,” said Rarity sharply. “Heroes do not do that sort of thing.”

“It jus’ ain’t in mah bones,” said Applejack.

The orange pony snorted. “You think you’re letting the side down?”

“It’s jus’ something you can’t do. Soon as you know right an' wrong, you can't choose wrong.”

“They wouldn’t hesitate to do it to you.”

“Yeah. But Ah ain’t them. Ah’m me.”

“What are we going to do?” said Coco.

“That’s what Ah’m tryin’ to figure out!” said Applejack, but she caught the Look in Rarity’s eyes. There could only be one answer. They were drawing towards it. Their legs braced for the inevitable.

Overhead, the crowd began chanting, but somewhere along the way the actual messages had become tangled, and now it was impossible to hear anything amid the confused noise. Feldspar gritted her teeth impatiently.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. “The moral dilemma’s all very well, but you’re losing the audience. Kick ‘em off already and have done with it!”

“No,” snapped Applejack.

Growling, the orange pony threw up her limbs and then swung them down for the nearest weapon. “Then I will.”

“You put that down!”

“You pick one up and help me, then.”

“Ah ain’t askin’ nicely again. First shot you take’ll be your last.”

They held the glare. On the edge of Applejack’s field of view, Coco began dancing on the spot.

A sigh: Feldspar’s hovering platform drew back slightly. “So I take it you forfeit? What a waste. You’re throwing away a promising career, you know.”

She hit something on the podium’s stand.

Pain bit into Applejack’s leg. She and the orange pony yelped and fell almost to their knees, bracing themselves in time. Even as Applejack watched, the crystal ring’s nubs began to grow and creep like vines, biting down harder on her skin.

“Wait!” Rarity cried out.

The pain stopped. Applejack gasped with a breath fighting to get out.

“Hm,” said Feldspar. “Come to your senses at last, have you? Then knock off the charade and get to work.”

“NO!”

The echoes of Applejack's cry faded away. The chanting died down. The crowd slowly fell silent.

It was a while before Applejack felt the shock. She hadn’t thought.

“No,” she said, trying not to look in anyone’s direction. “No, Ah ain’t doin’ it.”

“Oh?” Feldspar sounded vaguely amused.

Then Applejack met Rarity’s gaze.

She couldn’t do it. Her muscles trembled with the effort of staying up. She wanted more than ever to see everyone else walk out. But her own mind had melted and boiled away. There wasn’t even certainty anymore. She was gone, even from her own words.

“Ah’m sorry. Ah jus’ can’t.”

Muttering ran along the crowd. The orange pony growled with frustration. Coco breathed heavily.

A few boos broke out.

The glee returning to her voice, Feldspar reached down for some unseen switch. “Ah well. My public gardens could do with a few novelty statues anyway. Strike a pose, ladies, because you’ll want to look your best for eternity.”

“WAIT!”

Rarity stepped between Applejack and the floating platform.

“Sheesh, make up your minds!” Feldspar snapped. She raised her hoof again.

“Who says we have to destroy the other team?” Rarity said.

Feldspar gestured around them. “They do! Epic bloodlust doesn’t settle for half-measures.”

“Oh, really?” Rarity raised an eyebrow. It was quite a raise. It suggested, in no uncertain terms, that there were peaks from which to observe the follies of others, and of all the follies it had been forced to look down upon, this one would require a telescope to see that far. Applejack felt herself blushing hot just standing too close to so much radiating scorn.

“Yes, really!” Feldspar said impatiently. “This is Magical Deathmatch! The clue is in the name!”

“Even for heroes?” Now the voice had silky overtones, but only in the same way that a katana hidden within a kimono is silky.

“This is leading to a no, then?” The hoof was poised over the stand.

“Have you no vision whatsoever? Noble heroes, valiant defenders of justice and peace, and fabulous saviours of Equestria into the bargain: all reduced to petty killers?”

“Rarity?” hissed Applejack. “What are you doin’?”

“Shh,” Rarity hissed back. “You got us into this mess. I’m getting us out of it.”

“Ah got us –!?”

“OK, OK,” said Rarity a little more guiltily. “Just trust me, please.”

Around them, the crowd were silent. Thoughtfully silent, unless she was imagining it. Even Feldspar and the orange pony looked about uncertainly.

Then to Applejack’s surprise, Rarity turned directly towards the Diamond Bite. Around the arena, her stern face sparkled with a newfound energy. Her eyes, so calm and purple as royal orbs, now sparkled with the stars of inspiration.

“When killing is so easy,” Rarity said, and her commanding voice boomed out, “and common and disgusting besides? Oh no. I put it to you, my dear crystal ponies: what is that to a clean, skilful, challenging neutralization? To have grace and sting, to win with one hoof tied behind our back – metaphorically speaking, of course. It is easy to kill. It is far more satisfying to win without killing.”

“You’re wasting your time.” Feldspar reached down.

“That is our gimmick, as Equestria’s proudest! That is our challenge to you, Crystal Empire! No deaths. No easy conclusions! Merely us, our raw wits, and our heroism! Our daring challenge unto you? Think we're not able to meet it? What say you to this!?”

And there was so much of the Princess towering in those last words that Applejack’s knees weakened for the kneel before she remembered herself and pulled back up again.

A few murmurs. A few more delighted noises.

Applejack looked up. Feldspar, glowering at them in the pit, deliberately lowered her hoof. But she was glancing about the arena. Even she had no idea how the crowd would react.

Noises of approval rose up. Nods and smiles amid the general shifting. A smattering of applause.

“ARE YOU PONY ENOUGH FOR THIS!?” Rarity screamed. Even the orange pony jumped. Applejack herself almost swallowed her tongue.

Ponies in the crowd half-heartedly yelled “Yeah!”

“I SAID, ARE YOU PONY ENOUGH FOR THIS!?”

“Yeah!” yelled more of the crowd. Stamping broke out.

“THEN PROVE IT! ONCE MORE WITH FEELING! ARE YOU PONY ENOUGH FOR THIS!?”

“YEAH!” Finally, the dam broke. Applause flooded the stadium. A chant rose up of “ROSEBUD! ROSEBUD! ROSEBUD! ROSEBUD!”

Applejack sighed. The pressures eased off. Her insides breathed and slopped back into place. She no longer felt as though she were cooking from the inside out. Coco rushed forwards and hugged Rarity, who was still stiff and staring and so remained unmoved by the gesture.

Ha! Take that, Feldspar! She saw the hoof draw back. The world opened up again.

“What?” Feldspar stared around at the arena as though it had popped into existence without warning. She was jolted by fresh outbursts of enthusiasm. But Applejack could see where this was going. Feldspar was a slave to the crowd. Even if she wouldn’t get swept up in the chants and stamps and yells, she’d certainly not stand in front of it.

So when their gazes met, Applejack put in as much smug satisfaction as she felt she’d get away with. After all, she might not have another chance.

Across the dunes, the dots of the other teammates drew closer. Trenderhoof was the first to crest the nearest, looking like a colt who’d gotten lost in a town full of strangers. Others were bewildered, trying to see some sense in the crowd.

And all the while, Rarity maintained her dignified, daring glare. A dozen Rarity’s loomed clearly over the vague flashes and colours of the crowd.

The crowd. It was all about the crowd.

Feldspar growled.

Then Applejack saw the orange pony reach for a weapon.

“Don’t,” Applejack snapped.

“You fools!” hissed the orange pony. “You’ve doomed us! Have you any idea where this gimmick will land us!?”

Evidently, the same thought had occurred to Feldspar, whose thin line of a mouth now widened and curved.

“A gimmick,” she said as though chewing over some particularly fine delicacy. “A gimmick… yes, I think we could work with that…”

Her hovering platform shot down to ground level. Her gaze shot down to the assembling team.

“Very well,” Feldspar said smoothly. “If it’s a challenge you want, then we accept.” To the Diamond Bite, she loudly added, “You hear that, folks!? Team Rosebud has thrown down the gauntlet! History in the making! A dramatic conclusion to what I’m sure we all agree has been a hoof-biting, heart-pounding, head-banging, mind-blowing match of brains against brawn! Give it up for our special guests, the best of the best who put the primeval beasts to the test! Crime-busters and daredevils!”

By now, her improvised speech was lost to the swarm of sounds buzzing and bursting with excitement.

Another Diamond Bite zipped between them. Applejack blinked and stumbled backwards, and in that moment realized how tired her body suddenly was. She almost fell onto her haunches. Too much seemed to be happening to allow a picture of Cheese Sandwich into her life.

“Great work, Team!” he was saying. “I don’t know how you did it, but the nightmare is over! I’ll tell you what: party at my place tonight, and more cakes than a bakery chain! Song time! Ahem – The day the sand was blowin’, we had no way of knowin’ –”

Unexpectedly – if thankfully – the Diamond Bite closed again. Less thankfully, this was because Feldspar was right behind it. She lowered her hoof, letting the thing fall onto the sand.

“You win this round,” she hissed. “Enjoy your little victory while you can. Because next time, your ‘gimmick’ isn’t going to help you out of a jam. I’ll make sure of that.”

“Yeah,” mumbled Applejack. “You do that.” It wasn’t winning repartee, but it got the job done. Disgusted, Feldspar floated up and out of sight.

She sighed. Apple Bloom was safe. Until the next time, she knew, but that was in the future and hopefully a long, long way off at that. It could stay there. Apple Bloom was safe. For now.

But still, just for a moment, she wondered if she had been this close to… to doing it…

The pressures crept back in. By now, she was too far gone to resist.

Opposite, amid the cautiously murmuring team, the orange pony glowered at her.

Ah know. Ah know.

She didn’t even want to think it. Suddenly the crowd sounded a long way away.

No matter how many times Rarity washed her dust-stained face in the crystal basin, she never once felt clean. She could almost imagine Sweetie Belle standing beside her, cocking her head in that curious way. The filly’s imaginary voice floated through her mind. Something like: You’ve been there for hours. How much attention does one face NEED?

Well, my skin has been through a lot, she thought in reply. While the other teammates hung about behind her, she didn’t dare speak aloud. They were giving her funny looks as it was.

The locker room was silent. Occasionally, someone coughed or scuffed the floor underfoot.

Overhead the chandelier waited. Now she inspected it more closely, those gemstones encrusted along the rim could easily be Diamond Bites…

She knew what was going on. Most of the team had escaped, but then most of them had never been so close to danger before. Even the likes of Lord Tirek the Magic-Thief and Discord the Chaotic Abomination had largely just taken what they wanted and left anomie, confusion, anger, emptiness. But at least then, the ponies had been alive to talk about it. They hadn’t for a moment been close to death. Not from pincers or glowing crystal weapons.

Best to leave them to it. Some looked thoughtful as though contemplating their free will. Others looked like they’d given up on thought. She could tell by the crinkling of their eyes, the way they moved listlessly or sat down hunched and dazed.

After all, we’ll be back sooner or later. We all know what we’re up against now. Oh, the poor things! If only I had my boutique… No! Fat lot of good my dresses would be now!

Among them, Cheese Sandwich zipped and leaped and shifted with a jauntiness that fell short of his reddening eyes. “You did great, team! Sure, there was that awkward bit at the beginning where you ran around screaming like headless chickens, but that’s not bad for a first time!”

Trenderhoof sat on a bench. He hadn’t moved since they’d all come in and he’d staked his seat. Alone of the other ponies, he was skewing his jaw as though lost in a not uncomfortable contemplation.

“I suppose we have been favoured by Lady Fortune,” he said, more to himself than to Cheese.

Not that Cheese noticed. The result was a slap on the back that caught Trenderhoof by surprise.

“That’s the spirit! A few more lucky breaks like that and we’re sitting pretty! Or sitting in whatever manner we like!”

Trenderhoof looked over and Rarity almost swooned. That was him, all right. Relentlessly confident, rugged yet stylish, determined yet dashing… Wait, why am I thinking like this?

“A good point, good sir,” he said with customary graciousness. “It does not do to let ill-thoughts breed ill-manner. That was something you learned fast in Canterlot, let me tell you.”

“Oh, I positively invite you to!” replied Cheese, and then as though the scene had changed, Rarity’s focus shifted. Both stallions spoke confidently, and yet their jerky bodies were saying: We’re keeping up the side, right? We’re all deserving of praise, right? We’re not going to mention how we left the whole fate of the team to four mares who basically stole the spotlight and may or may not have nearly gotten us killed, right? Because we’re lucky!

Rarity bubbled with sympathy. If only she could go over and pat them both on the back. They were utterly wrong, but it’s the thought that counts.

Well, it’s the spirit of the thought that counts.

Quietly, teammates slipped out of the door one-by-one. Coco made to follow them, and then gave a frightened squeak as a leering snout protruded. Peccary stepped into the room, dainty hooves a complete mismatch to his mass of bristles, spines, and grinning approximations of teeth and tusks.

“You leave her alone,” snapped Rarity.

Surprised and sniffing, Peccary gingerly stepped aside. Coco didn’t even stop to thank her. She couldn’t get out fast enough.

Rarity sighed. “Winners or not, we’re still prisoners, are we not?”

Whether her tone had worked or failed, Peccary simply lumbered further into the room, keeping his distance. Rarity noticed with grim satisfaction that he’d stopped grinning, though the cutlery set of his jaws stuck out anyway.

Through the other entrance, Mineral Cure swept into the room. By now, only Applejack, Trenderhoof, Cheese, Rarity, and the orange pony remained.

“What a magnificent show!” Mineral Cure’s fake cheer drilled through Rarity’s patience. “I see most of the team have already left. Such a shame you have yet to build your rapport. Rapport is healthy and healing. We find that a healthy team is a happy team.”

“Oh yes?” said Rarity icily to her own reflection. “Given that, would you be interested in joining?”

“Ohoho!” Mineral Cure’s stinking perfumes bit even harder than the patronizing tone. “I am not worthy of joining the great Team Rosebud. I am but a crystal pony. Citizens have their own carefully delineated roles under the stewardship of the Ultimate Supreme Company Executive Officer Feldspar of the House of Silicates.”

“What a memory you have.” Rarity checked her eyelashes, mostly to have something to do that didn’t involve immediate violence towards that annoying voice.

She saw the orange pony’s reflection loom up behind her. Well, if she had any parting shots, she’d have no help from Rarity. Besides, Rarity didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.

“You realize,” whispered the orange pony, “how much harder you’ve just made our jobs.”

I know, thought Rarity sadly. I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.

“A moment ago, we were this close to losing our ‘jobs’,” Rarity said, trying to keep all emotion out of her voice. Matter-of-fact. That was a style all its own. “Under the circumstances, I think our management of the situation was the best compromise.”

“Very high and mighty. But you won’t be so confident next time. And think of this: the moment you decide there’s an easier way than not killing, how long do you believe the crowd will remain on your side?”

“Now, really!” Ah well, I was never any good at ‘matter-of-fact’ talk. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Hm. I’ll let you figure that one out.”

She couldn’t help herself; as the orange pony stepped around her for the exit, Rarity burst out, “What are you? Manehattanites might be rough around the edges, but I was under the impression you all at least aspired to some degree of urbanity!”

After a bit of thought, she added, “Suri Polomare excepted.”

The pause in the aftermath of that strike was…

Rarity frowned. The stranger’s face was…

She smelled… She had the slightest sound… No…

Surprise ran through Rarity’s mind. So used was she to spying around bodies and faces to the souls hiding behind their costumes and masks, that this…

She couldn’t read the stranger at all. It was like divining thought from a machine.

The orange pony gave her an empty look. “Who said I was from Manehattan?”

“Well, I assumed from the Orange family ties and from your cutie mark –”

“You assumed wrongly.”

And with that, the orange pony strode out. Even her walk was nondescript. There was no character to the mare.

Only when Rarity turned back to the mirror did she notice Applejack standing behind her. The mare had moved so quietly.

“Oh my! Don’t sneak up on a pony like that!”

“Ah din’t sneak up,” said Applejack calmly. “You were jus’ distracted.”

“Well, give some warning next time.”

“You’re still a li’l jumpy, ain’tcha?”

Rarity saw her reflection blush. It was no good. Applejack somehow spread her honesty to others, and Rarity holding her own against a crowd of blood-hungry spectators was nothing to her trying – and failing – to hold her own against Applejack.

“Ah think you did the right thing,” she said, still in that calm voice. “Ah know it’s mah fault, but –”

“I wouldn’t have done it either,” Rarity said at once. Or would I? Sweetie Belle was on my mind the whole time, but…

“Ah know. But what else could we do?”

Neither of them spoke. It wasn’t an answer they were willing to give. Or were able to give.

Instead, Rarity turned, half away from the mirror, half towards Applejack. Vague memories of the dodging, swiping, leaping around the Scorpony ran through her legs. She almost sweated with them.

Gingerly, she placed a hoof on Applejack’s shoulder. It was like touching a boulder covered with moss, and the smell didn’t help. Still, she held her breath and her hoof.

Then Mineral Cure stepped over. At once, Rarity let go. Both she and Applejack spun round.

“What do you want?” Applejack said, and Rarity fancied a tinge of embarrassment bit into the anger.

Mineral Cure blinked in surprise. “I am here to serve. Captain Cheese Sandwich is preparing a party in celebration of your magnificent victory. I would like to confirm the menu selection with you.”

“Oh, Mineral Cure!” Cheese shouted across the pathetically empty room. “You busybody, you! Lighten up, Miss Lost-Your-Lustre! Everyone’s getting the best old Cheesy Squeezy can rustle up, if you please-y!”

“It pleases you to joke, Mister Sandwich.” Fake laughter, fake closing of the eyes to make it seem genuine. My word, this mare is just adding to the list of charges for bad taste!

Then, to Rarity’s utter astonishment, Mineral Cure leaned forwards and the smile clouded over under the shadow.

“What you did was brave, but foolish,” she said so quietly that for a moment Rarity doubted she’d heard it. “Feldspar will let you continue for now, but I must warn you: you cannot avoid it forever.”

“What are you –?” Applejack clammed up at the hasty, pleading look this earned her.

Peccary snorted. They waited until his hooves clopped past.

“Death is essential to the game!” Mineral Cure continued. “You must understand this! So long as the gimmick you hold remains, you have merely placed other lives in greater danger! Be warned! So,” she continued in suddenly normal and brittle cheer, “I believe that is the full list of items you would enjoy. Very good. I shall instruct the kitchen staff forthwith. Please, enjoy your stay in Antipodean City.”

She bowed and scurried out as politely as she could. Rarity swore she glanced up at the chandelier on her way.

“What was that all about?” said Applejack.

“Shh,” Rarity hissed. “You want to get her into trouble?”

“No, but…”

“Oh Applejack, sometimes you’re so slow. We’re being watched.”

Predictably, Applejack glanced about.

“Don’t do that!” Rarity hissed. “You want to give the game away?”

“Huh?”

“Just… Just act normal, please.”

“Ah don’t act. Ah do what comes naturally.”

“Then do what comes naturally… normal. Please!”

Applejack sighed. The greater realm of etiquette and sophisticated senses was a foreign country, as far as she was concerned. Rarity could practically smell her frustration.

From the doorway, Peccary narrowed his eyes with obvious suspicion. Rarity glared at him until he got the hint, squealed awkwardly in that piggy way of his, and sidled out of the room.

Presumably to distract herself more than anything, Applejack added, “So whatcher doin’? Not that lookin’ in a mirror for things to spruce up ain’t normal for you, but Ah fancied you were givin’ one or two other things the once-over?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Rarity returned to checking her curls in the mirror. She paid no attention to the two stallions, and definitely no attention to the slowly relaxing shoulders of a Trenderhoof deep in pleasant, welcoming conversation…

“You’re doin’ it again.”

Rarity sighed. Just when she thought Applejack lacked any kind of keen eye, too.

“I’m merely glad to be alive to appreciate anything,” she said, soundly defeated. “A stallion’s charms, my own mane, the crystal architecture… That stadium had a certain tasteful wealthy and classical style, n’est ce pas?”

“Don’t really care, to be honest.”

“Oh, but Applejack! One must take one’s charms wherever one can! And the roar of the crowd, the approval, the delight, the sheer radiance, the joy, the appreciation! I believe we’ve acquired some allies among assumed adversaries! Oh, but let me give them only a fraction of the high art to which I am accustomed, and then we’ll see who’s the slave and who’s the master –”

“You realize,” said Applejack, in such cold tones that Rarity shivered out of her daydreams, “that you’re talkin’ about ponies who wanted to kill yer?”

Rarity’s mental dance rammed into an ice block. Shock ran through her.

“Well, yes, I mean, sure, I don’t doubt, but –”

“An’ they got Sweetie Belle locked up.”

Rarity almost felt cornered. It was as though the ice block were sliding towards her. A marathon of horror and alarm stampeded through her mind and body.

“Applejack, please! I don’t forget.”

“All right. Only for a while there, you looked like you’d forgotten.”

“But –”

“Like you was enjoyin’ it.”

“And I don’t!” Rarity said desperately. “You honestly believe I would want to be here, Applejack?”

To her relief, she saw Applejack back off a bit. The mare had such a way of looming. Even the orange pony lacked the sheer physicality on display.

“No, never,” said Applejack at once, reaching up for a hat that she again had to remember wasn’t there. She grimaced. “Sorry. Ah din’t mean nothin’. Ah guess Ah ain’t got the jumpiness outta mah system yet.”

Rarity watched the two stallions. Cheese said something. Trenderhoof laughed, and he laughed with the wonderful, easygoing, but tasteful measure so characteristic of his good grace. How she envied them both right now.

At least something beautiful is blooming out of this dead field of misery, she thought, and she let a smile peek out of her lips.

“Well,” she tried bravely, “the important thing is that we all got out of this as well as could be expected.”

“Not quite,” said Applejack grimly.

Caught out, Rarity looked at her reflection in the mirror for inspiration. She noticed a scuff on her cheek, and tried to smooth it down.

“We all got out alive,” she said at once. “Coco, Trenderhoof, all of the team.”

“Nope,” said Applejack. “We lost two.”

“No, we didn’t.” Rarity gulped. “I’m sure we didn’t.”

“No you’re not. You know as well as Ah do.”

“It was so chaotic, and there were all those immediately pressing concerns.”

“One of ‘em the Scorpony got. Ah din’t see what happened to the other one, but we were down another when we came back here, Ah know that much.”

Now Rarity’s hooves rubbed at her face. Still the scuff mark refused to go away.

“We didn’t,” she said, but feebly; Applejack’s voice was the end of the discussion.

Darned scuff mark. Get out! Why won’t you get out? She rubbed and rubbed until it hurt her cheek and she hastily let go and waited for the pain to die down.

After a while, she felt she could speak. “Who were they?”

“Don’t know.”

Trenderhoof’s laughter now sounded far, far away. She didn’t even notice any movement until the two stallions’ hooves clopped past, and she turned in time to see their retreating tails go round the door.

Enough. She spun round. She’d go out without fuss. She’d managed so far.

“Ah dunno about you, Rarity, but Ah’m goin’ to bed.”

Rarity scanned the face for any sign of jocularity. Not that she felt much different. She scanned without hope.

“It’s not even past midday, I expect,” she said vainly.

“Ah don’t care. The less Ah have to do with this place, the better.”

“But don’t you think we should take advantage of our freedom, such as it is? Get to know the place? Um. Look for a way out, perhaps?”

Frowns, pleading looks, cringing disgust, and bursting, wide-eyed horror flitted and twitched across Applejack’s face. Rarity could see how much Apple Bloom’s haunting ghost was costing the mare. Applejack’s views on family were like her views on oxygen. Didn’t understand it. Didn’t live without it.

“You can, Rarity. Ah ain’t gonna give ‘em an inch.”

“Neither am I! Be reasonable, Applejack!”

“Ah’ll see you later.” She made to step out – Rarity resisted the urge to chase after her – but then hung back. She turned around. “Ah’ll say this for you, Rarity. You’re handling this place a lot better than Ah thought you would.”

Sadly, Rarity watched her go. Alone again, she could at least concentrate on that scuff mark. But she didn’t. Some silly bit of imperfection? It’d come out sooner or later. At least, she hoped it would.

If only you knew, she thought.

She gave Applejack a five-minute head start, fidgeting with her mane and ignoring the empty lockers and crystal facets all around her. Only then did she feel confident enough to face the next room, which thankfully turned out to be empty.

It was just as well she waited. By then, the outburst had been contained for just long enough that all she managed was a whimper.

As ever, she strode out, head haughty. Not quite as high, but she wasn’t feeling up to much anyway. In her mind’s eye, Sweetie Belle’s ghost followed her out of the room.

The Preliminary Match: What A Stranger Observes

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The stranger might have been there, or she might not. Even she was finding it hard to tell these days. All she knew was that she felt constantly wrong, and there’s nothing worse than having a full body aching with uncertainty.

So she tried not to focus on it. She’d spent most of her life – or at least, those bits of it she remembered through the ache – knowing what to do. That at least wasn’t hard. Broken bones, delirium, poisons coursing through her blood: she’d forced herself to work through them all.

Carefully, she crawled up the shaft. Or at least she sometimes did, and other times phased through it. She hated when that happened. For a blink of a moment, everything went empty. Not dark or anything. Just… empty. As though she had briefly ceased to exist.

Anyway, she wasn’t built for thinking, for sitting quietly and asking questions like “What’s it all about when you get down to it, really?” She wasn’t a thinker beyond the next two minutes, which were usually busy enough in her experience. Mostly, she followed her instincts or some inspiration or the script coming through her mind, whatever it was. The universe could handle itself. And she had a job to do.

Up ahead was a grille. She heard voices. Someone was complaining about a boiler.

When she reached the grille, she peered through and briefly cursed as her existence went on the blink again. This time, it took a while to settle down.

Finally, she got a good look beyond. Indeed, there was a boiler. A lot of tools scattered about: plenty of improvised weapons, from a certain point of view. And three ponies. Two unicorns, so possibly telekinetic attackers. They didn’t look like fighters, though. Showponies, maybe.

The third was a crystal pony. Instantly, the stranger worried. Crystal ponies were unknown, and the devil about the unknown was that there was no script until she either got captured by one or got into a fight with one. Neither method recommended itself.

Even through the crystal pony’s faceted body and bizarrely gem-like eyes, however, she could spot the stiffness and hair-trigger tension of a military pony exercising full self-control. Moreover, she could hear the crystal pony’s breathing. This was a mare going after all the self-control she could get.

“These Diamond Bite screens are remarkably simple in design,” said one of the unicorns. “It’s really just a light blaster angled almost flat. We had a proposal for one back in remedial science class, am I right Flim?”

“Indeedy so, Flam!” said the other unicorn. “See, the confoundingly clever contraption is all in the little scanning bit. The entire image is just woven from light blasted across the stretchy screen left to right and up and down. What makes it look flawless is how quickly it does it.”

“Faster than the eye can see!”

“More powerful than the mind can conceive!”

“Able to create the most astounding sights!”

“Think of all the projections, corrections, illusions, delusions, hallucinations, and simulations you could run ragged round a client! We’d make millions!”

“Ahem,” snapped the crystal pony.

Despite the boiler crackling away, the temperature of the room sank a few degrees. This was not a voice inclined to warmth.

“So you didn’t make the modifications I asked for?” said the crystal pony.

“Kid, as an opportunist like me will tell you –”

Flim shut up at once; the crystal pony didn’t move, but she sucked all words out of the room through sheer frozen fury.

“An opportunist? An opportunist? You oaf! I’ve given you more than enough opportunities to redeem yourself, and you’ve squandered almost every single one.”

“But! But! But we make it count when we do!” said Flam hastily. “And! And! And anyone in the business will tell you that you need to know what you’re working with before you work with it.”

“Did you redirect the charges,” said the crystal pony with near-explosive patience, “or didn’t you?”

Both brothers exchanged grim looks.

The stranger waited patiently. Most of the talk meant nothing to her, but sooner or later it’d come back to haunt her, she was sure of it. Besides, the room was so full of detail she couldn’t resist drinking it all in. She could relax here for a while.

“Well,” ventured Flim. “No. Not in so many words.”

The crystal pony groaned. That groan clearly wanted to stagger around the room muttering darkly to itself, and only the diamond discipline of its owner prevented such a show of emotion.

“You told me you were the best inventors,” said the crystal pony coldly.

“And we most certainly are!” said Flam, giving a placatory smile. “Miracle medicines, incredible ideas, wondrous devices from your wildest dreams.”

“We’re just not working in a conducive environment.” Flim rubbed his chest idly. “Too much… skepticism in the air, if you catch my meaning.”

Slowly, as though inspecting the troops, the crystal pony began to step around them, carefully avoiding the benchloads of tools. All without looking away from two suddenly shifty ponies.

The stranger heard lips parting, but could only see the back of the crystal pony’s head. “No. No. I see clearly.”

Puzzled frowns flickered across the brothers’ faces. “Uh,” said Flam. “You do?”

“You are not world-famous. You are not travelling salesponies.”

“Now, hold on a moment –” Flim began indignantly.

The stranger didn’t see the expression, but she saw the reactions. Flim almost jumped on top of his brother. Flam almost jumped on top of himself. It was quite a display.

“Criminals!” spat the crystal pony, and now that her circling brought her face into view, the stranger saw an animal snarl along the muzzle, iron in the eyes, and fire blazing through every twitch of muscle. “Con artists! Snake oil merchants! You think I would not find out eventually? The Southern Crystal Empire has great technology at its disposal. See!”

She snapped a hoof to attention. At once, the Diamond Bite on the table rose up and opened. Side-on, the stranger couldn’t see what was playing along the screen. But she heard the gasps of the brothers.

“Every misdemeanour you have committed, every victim you have swindled, sooner or later becomes our business. You think we were all arrogant fools like Feldspar who didn’t care much about other countries? About the north? When you ponies so carelessly toss crystals around like glitter? Feh! You are a nation of oafs!”

Both brothers stood, jaws wide open, simply absorbing the dance of the lights.

“We have watched your every move. We know everything there is to know.”

The Diamond Bite closed and fell with a tinkle back onto the bench and then onto the hard crystal floor. Only the crackling of the boiler could be heard.

Stiffly, the crystal pony completed her circle. If looks could burn, she’d have gone supernova long ago.

Then, the brothers seemed to wake up. “Astounding!” said Flim.

“Remarkable!” said Flam. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Flim?”

“I think I know what you understand I believe you’re guessing at, Flam!”

“Security systems for every home! Vacations captured and never forgotten! Using screens as stand-ins for teachers!”

“Not to mention their use in the medical field! The sciences! Dangerous exploration! You could record everything you saw while enjoying the comforts of home!”

“We’d be –”

A loud stamp shook the tools on the tables. Both of them backed off at once and hit a bench, shaking more.

“If you were criminals in my jurisdiction,” whispered the crystal pony, but even her whisper had a small military command to it, “I would arrest you here and now. Regrettably for common decency, you are only criminals outside the Empire. But I warn you, here and now” – she stepped forwards, a slow, deadly march of an executioner – “you try and commit a crime, you will have only one chance at it.”

“Uh…” said Flim, blind to potential suicide, “is that one chance each, or jointly?”

The march stopped; this speech earned him such a look of utter contempt that he grinned and then gulped.

“Now, hold on a second,” said Flam. Both turned to face him. “Aren’t we doing something criminal right now? Aren’t you doing something criminal right now?”

The crystal pony put a yard between them and straightened up professionally. “No. I will do my duty to the House of Silicates.”

“Right.” Flam coughed. “The plan. Uh huh.”

“Officer Feldspar trusts me to maintain order. So I shall.”

“Just not in the way she’s thinking?”

“What she thinks is immaterial. But she sees in my kind a bunch of craven loyalists. We alone do not need our minds controlled like puppets. We are cut from the same crystal shaft, after all.”

Starting to feel cramped in her hidey hole, the stranger skewed her jaw. There was some kind of verbal dance going on here. If so, then it was one with stiletto heels and hidden knives. Not that she was any more at home with metaphors. Not when she’d faced enough real stilettos and knives.

Flim stepped around the crystal pony, and – unwisely, judging from the expression this earned him – placed a friendly forelimb around her withers.

“And may I just say you’re doing a terrific job,” he said, despite his brother’s frantic hoof signals to not go down this route. “As are we, I think you’ll notice. No one’s found our outpost in Titanium Town, much less the second secret workshop inside, am I right?”

“Get your criminal leg off my back, you scum.”

Again, the crystal pony made no movement whatsoever. Nonetheless, Flim drew back as though scolded by her touch.

“Ten security systems have located it by now,” the crystal pony continued. “It’s useless. I’ve just had to come from the other side of the city to deliver the news to you.”

“What!?” Flim shouted.

Flam, who the stranger was starting to think had most of the brains, barely widened his eyes in shock. “So… no smuggling victims out anymore?”

“Relax. Your philanthropy will remain undimmed,” said the crystal pony in tones making it clear that there were no alternatives, or at least no healthy ones. “Anyway, it may prove unnecessary. Magical Deathmatch begins in full soon enough. Once Feldspar has her reserves stocked up, there’ll be no need for kidnappings until next year.”

“Great! Great!” said Flim, but his face was anything but overjoyed. Overshocked, perhaps. “Well, it’s very nice to know we have one less way to be useful to the Empire!”

“Yes, so maybe now” – the crystal pony gripped the fallen Diamond Bite in her hooves – “you’ll actually focus on doing what I ask of you!”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” said Flam. “What is all this for?”

“You know what it’s for, oaf. Tampering with security systems around the Empire is no easy feat. A crystal pony’s touch would be detected immediately. A regular pony’s would not. That makes you –” her lips curled at the word “– useful.”

“And if we can’t disable them?”

“Disable? You are worse than an oaf! The point is to reroute them, not disable them! A disabled system would be spotted instantly!”

“But –” began Flim.

Between her hooves, the Diamond Bite shattered. Both brothers watched the pieces tinkle to the ground.

“No more excuses.” The crystal pony strode through them, forcing them to sidestep out of the way and approaching the flickering flames of the boiler. This she now stared at.

The stranger wriggled. Through the omnipresent ache of uncertainty, she was starting to get cramp. She never thought about things like cramp. Crab monsters patrolling the shafts, yes. Cramps, no. Odd, that.

Ever the thinker, Flam tapped his chin in contemplation. “Hm. Lying through lights. Sounds right up our alley.”

“It’ll take time,” said Flim, who’d finally caught something he could hold on to. “Twelve security systems is no three-course picnic on a summer day by the beach. It was twelve, right?”

“One for each of the major Houses, yes,” said the crystal pony to the fire. Her face was hidden again, but the lonely silhouette surrounded by flames had a power all its own. “Feldspar’s a child, but a paranoid child.”

“And what exactly do you want to do once we figure out how to get around… twelve security systems?” said Flim.

“Anyway, isn’t it pointless?” said Flam, eager to win brownie points if his furiously nodding head was anything to go by. “After all, we’re part of the underground, right? Well, we know where that road leads.”

“When a road leads, you know the world’s gone topsy-turvy.”

“Precisely. The road is what you lead on top of.”

“You can lead a parade on top of the road. You can lead a caravan.”

“You can lead a good life.”

“You can lead a pencil.”

“You can lead a horse to water. But you can’t make him drink from it.”

“Unless you push his head under.”

“Or if you have him over a barrel.”

“Physically tricky, without the right tools.”

“But we could invent some. It’d change the world. It’d rewrite history.”

“In short,” said Flim, “it’d be a revolution.”

“Very popular in history,” said Flam, elbowing his brother knowingly in the ribs.

“The point is,” continued Flim, meeting him nod for nod, “why not just sit back and let history come barrelling down the road that leads to the reinvention of the good life, and then parade the change?”

“Rewrite with a pencil!”

“Drink the water you’ve been led to!”

“And then the underground becomes the overground.”

“Turvy-topsy!”

“Righto!”

“Righted, you mean.”

“Precisely!”

“Concisely!”

They took a bow. They said “Ta-da!”

The stranger waited.

After a while of deep staring, the crystal pony turned to sneer at them until their pose wilted.

“No revolutions,” she said.

“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” said Flam. “Who doesn’t like a good, heart-stirring revolution?”

“Revolutions are a mess. Those ponies on the street are never fully satisfied. You can appease some of the ponies all of the time. You can appease all of the ponies some of the time. But you can’t appease all of the ponies all of the time. They are unhappy in this dark empire of constant watching. I do not blame them. But I do not trust them any more than I trust Feldspar.”

To Flim, Flam muttered, “I think they do things differently here, O brother of mine.”

“No,” said the crystal pony. “We need reformation. Not revolution. I’ve had enough of revolutions. They just go round in circles.”

Both brothers exchanged looks.

Meanwhile, the stranger cocked an ear. Part of her was – academically – utterly riveted by the ideas being tossed around, but she had to shuffle to stop herself getting comfortable. It was just as well the cramps were still there.

“Seen a lot, have you?” said Flim.

“Centuries’ worth. That is why you will do as I ask, when I ask, no ifs, buts, or howevers.” The crystal pony strode towards the nearest bench and picked up something that could’ve disembowelled a machine, and judging from the crystalline and metal wreckage clearly had done. “I will see the dark Empire end. I have run too far for anything else to be my prize. And I will not be tripped up at the finish line by a couple of oafish swindlers. So,” she continued, and now she pointed the tool at them in a way that made it very clear weaponhood could be arranged, “let me make this clear: if you do anything to endanger this mission, I will ensure that your last days are spent in the arena.”

“Now hold on a second!” said Flam, far more bravely than the stranger felt was healthy – and the stranger herself was safely behind a grille and half-not-there, for Pete’s sake – “You can’t turn us over.”

“Oh? So now you suddenly grow a conscience? When it’s convenient to you?”

“Not that,” said Flim with a smoothness not evident in the way he adjusted his bow tie. “It’s just… how do you know our last few days won’t be spent telling Feldspar who smuggled all the ponies out?”

Metal groaned. Teeth bared in pain. Ears and heads shrank down trying to quash the agony of sound as the crystal pony bent the tool into a complete circle and then some.

She dropped it with a clatter. “Or perhaps I will end you myself! King of Oafland! What I have to lose is too important! By Titanium’s Truth! At the end of this scheming, someone is going to be history! Don’t let it be you!”

The crystal pony then stepped over her dropped metal victim and strode over to the exit. The stranger shuffled slightly to keep her in view.

“Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!” spluttered Flam, while Flim swiftly busied himself with a nearby set of white diamonds. “Where are you going?”

“On patrol. I have a duty to my House.”

“But didn’t you just say with your own home-grown mouth that you were loyal to your House, or something? Isn’t Feldspar from the same House as you?”

“Yes, it makes it easier to double-cross her. Why?”

Flam’s face was impressed. The stranger wondered if he was taking notes.

“Idle curiosity. Not a sin, is it?”

“I am loyal to my House. Not to Feldspar.”

Yet there was a catch in her voice. Trying to prove too much. The stranger could sense a lie hidden in there. She’d heard plenty of those in her time. Probably too many.

Then the door slammed. Flim whistled.

“Well,” he said indignantly. “Some ponies just do not appreciate the hard work we put in for them.”

“Way of the world, Flim. Way of the world. If there was any justice to it, we’d be sitting pretty by now.”

“We’re more standing handsome at the moment, Flam.”

“Figure of speech, O brother of mine. Never get your figurative’s mixed up with your literally’s.”

“Unless lying’s involved. And lying low, of course, even though we’re as honest as the next pony.”

“The next pony’s me, Flim.”

“And my next pony’s you, Flam.”

“Well, we laid that one to rest.”

“We’ll lay more than that to rest soon enough, Flam, don’t you worry. Pass me that discombobulator, would you?”

“Only if you pass me that recombobulator.”

“Just one question, one puzzler, one poser for you, Flam.”

“Pose away, Flim. Puzzle and question away!”

“Is there such a thing as a straight-up combobulator?”

“Flim, my boy, you let me down.”

“Darn straight I do. But I try harder to keep things going up. After all, that is the only way.”

Eventually, the stranger tuned their voices out. They just never shut up, even while they hit things and charged things and made other things go sizzle.

So what’s the verdict? That crystal pony must be key to whatever’s going down. If her efforts here are at least part of the picture, then maybe I should keep an eye on her movements next.

Now, I just need to know why I know this. And why I’m doing all this. And how I’m supposed to do it in a place like this. Twelve security systems!? That’s incredible!

Wait a minute… a place like this… with shafts big enough for a pony to crawl down.

What kind of twelve systems are we talking about, here?

Too much thought. The certainty briefly washed the ache away. So she was on track, at least. Good. What did instinct have to say next? She never thought that far ahead, but the trail was getting warmer. She just knew.

Slowly, she began crawling backwards. Then she had another attack of sudden non-existence.

After it passed, the stranger groaned. Now this was getting downright embarrassing.

Interlude: Muggers, Mysteries, and Merchandising

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The hexagonal platform jolted. The doorway ground open. Suri waited until it was all clear – and until she could slow her heartbeat – before stepping forwards. It was like being in kindergarten again.

Overhead, the endless distant light of the cylindrical tower pulled her gaze through sheer gravitational dread. Once more, she wondered what was actually up there, and why this room felt so cold. Carved from a glacier? She wouldn’t put it past these crystal freaks.

Columns either side stood, unsympathetic. They didn’t actually bear anything up. She supposed they’d been added for some kind of imperial style. They said, Don’t even try to get to our level, kid.

Her hooves tapped on the empty floor. Now and again she stopped to rub herself down. It wasn’t just the cold, but that was good reason in and of itself.

Breaths came out in crystals before her. If she felt small before, she felt microscopic coming up to that boulder of a desk. Rugged pigs stood as bodyguards on either side.

Unexpectedly, Feldspar was standing in front of the desk. She was also deep in conversation with a pig of her own.

“I don’t care if you have to break down the door,” Feldspar snapped. “Get Peccary up here right now and keep an eye on those two flesh-bodies until I send him back. I’ve got new instructions for him and him alone.”

Cocking its head, the pig grunted curiously.

“Because need-to-know, that’s why. Now be a dear and go get him, will you? Oh, and after the Titanium Town incident, tell Gutter to report to Factory Five.”

At this, the pig gave a strangled squeal.

“Enough of the theatrics. He let me down hard, and now he can make up for it. Unless, of course, you wish to join him?”

The pig shook its head violently and saluted. Suri mentally added, Memo: Find out what Factory Five is. Could be useful.

Even when the pig turned and scampered past her using its bizarre loping gait, she felt the tide of anxiety flow back. There’d only been a momentary respite. Besides, she quite enjoyed seeing others get bawled out.

Feldspar rounded on her. Sans towering desk, she looked strangely crouched and mousey, almost as though she’d been converted from one species to another without due care and attention. Something of a rat’s squint lurked about her eyes.

“Oh, so you’ve decided to join us, have you?” said Feldspar.

Suri was determined not to gulp or shiver. She was a darn Manehattanite, for goodness’ sake. Manehattanites were put off by nothing and no one.

“Why pigs?” she said, trying to sound chummy rather than chiding.

“Why pigs what?”

“I’ve seen all the gadgets and gizmos this place has. So why use pigs for anything?”

For a moment, Feldspar actually loosened up. Her face eased back into that of a child lounging on a comfy new beanbag.

“Oh, Diamond Bites are fine for eyes and ears, but sooner or later you need muscle. Crystal ponies are a bit tricky, even after you’ve hammered it into their heads that disobeying is a no-go. But pigs? Ah, pigs. They don’t get squeamish over nothing.”

Suri cringed. She started rubbing her foreleg again. Suddenly, a bath far, far away sounded like heaven.

“Come now, this is the best place in the universe,” Feldspar continued. “Of course we allow pigs in. We have an open-minded policy. What more do you want?”

“You promised me a studio,” said Suri sullenly. A studio. Right. Like this is all worth a studio.

But she’d seen the ones they had here. Palaces in their own right. Enough staff to make clothes for a royal coronation and everyone attending. More fabrics and threads and needles and knitting machinery and patterns and styles and accoutrements than she’d ever imagined existed. They made the shimmery stuff from Fashion Week look tacky.

This place would’ve been paradise, except for the obvious drawbacks…

“Oh, deary me,” said Feldspar. “Heaven forbid I keep the fashionista from her fashions. What do I do but basically run an entire empire? Its mines, its malls, its merchandising, and its magical systems? Pfft. Second fiddle to what fabric of the week’s coming in.”

Suri didn’t dare glower at her.

And then Feldspar laughed. Suri hated that laugh. Hidden not-so-subtly among the ringing decibels was the message: This is all a huge joke. You’re just too stupid to get it. But I’m not.

As soon as she’d struggled her way to a finish, Feldspar gestured behind herself. “But seriously, seriously, just to give you an idea of what wonders we have here: observe.”

A floating platform of rugged crystals came out from behind the desk. Suri, mind starting to slip into the cold again, shivered.

“Look how cool this stuff is!” Feldspar raised each item on her hoof in turn. “Action figures, lunchboxes, feeding bags, decorated saddles, stylised cart stickers, comic series, aerated horseshoes, even little picture books! All based on the marvels of Magical Deathmatch! Can’t get enough of the action in the arena? I’ve made sure you can get it anywhere: at home, at work, on the journey to and fro. Every last bit of it tailor-made for the ponies who make up my Empire to get that little bit closer to their favourite heroes!”

Through the barrage of words and her own insistent demands for an immediate wash, Suri found the energy to frown.

“Children’s toys?” she said.

“Get ‘em young, Suri. That’s where the money is. Wait until they’re fully grown, and half of ‘em won’t care a fig. We learned that lesson long ago. But get ‘em while they’re sweet and innocent, and you’ve found a special connection. Wait until they’re fully grown then, and most of ‘em won’t forget the magic of childhood. I hold their hearts in my hooves.”

“Let me get this straight,” she said, hardly daring to believe her own words. “The game’s called Magical Deathmatch, and… you’re marketing it towards children?”

“Well, yeah,” said Feldspar, and the tone in her voice suggested Suri had stepped off of Planet Idiot. “Kids love a good deathmatch, Suri. It’s exciting! It’s violent! It’s full of drama and twists! Besides, it’s something to pretend-play.”

“You’re marketing towards children.”

Feldspar chuckled. “What, and you don’t? Or wouldn’t? Or think you shouldn’t? Kids are the worst for wanting stuff, Suri. Might as well give ‘em something worth wanting.”

She’s marketing towards children! Suri clung to the speech. By now, she was so desperate to get out and blast herself with water that anything to make this go faster was welcome.

Besides, a little bit of Suri thought, She’s got a really good point. I could learn something here…

The rest of her glared it down. Yes, there was that, but Feldspar just had to be wrong. Kids, for crying out loud! Contempt rose up afresh, trying to wash away anything and everything to the contrary. There had to be some standards.

Thankfully, the disgusting platform zipped out of sight again. Suri watched the pigs standing to attention, but it was better than watching Feldspar pacing up and down before her. Those hoofsteps echoed oddly among the columns and across the vast gaping cylinder of the ceiling.

Besides, she knew what was coming…

Suri quailed. How low could this psychotic madmare sink?

Applejack kept the Ice Lash wrapped around her. Since the arena, she’d come to look upon it as a fire-forged friend. Besides, if she couldn’t have her hat then she’d have a little piece of rodeo at least.

Irritably, Peccary grunted behind her. For the moment, he seemed more tag-along pet than bodyguard. All the same, she was used to pigs and so ended up ignoring the tap of hooves following her.

The city looked no less dark and craggy than before, as if she was walking through a civilized volcanic cave. Daytime, night-time, afternoon, evening: they were starting to become dreams. Only the occasional crystal pony and crystal guard wandered about, none of whom paid much attention to her.

Weird. There were loads of fans watchin’ us. Not that Ah’m complainin’, but where’ve them lot gone off to?

No one was watching, though.

Carefully, she uncoiled the Ice Lash strung around her chest. For a moment, she thought of swinging it at Peccary. No way that this pig was a match for her: not when she was in a lassoing mood.

But Diamond Bites dotted the city, even dotted the “sky” overhead with its mountain-like stalactites and upside-down towers. Crystal guards patrolled in pairs up ahead. She sighed and let the thought go.

Instead, she swirled the rope over her head. Twirling, twirling, twirling idly as she walked along. After a while, the circle blurring overhead seemed to steady itself. Always a good way to take her mind off things, back on the farm.

She hummed a little country ditty to herself.

In her heart, she knew it was wrong. She was enjoying the play of the rope and a brief walk of freedom, all while Apple Bloom was who-knew-where, terrified, alone, maybe even locked in that ice block. And there’d be kin back home – Big McIntosh, Granny Smith, Winona – staying up all night with worry. Friends wondering where she was now: imagining her stuck in a prison, or lost in a wild wood, or something even worse.

But she couldn’t worry forever. Worrying just used up energy. They had a plan. Rarity had a plan. Deep down, that wasn’t good enough, but up here at the surface where she could breathe fresh air for now, it would do. First thing first would be to last a few more days. That meant more matches. That meant keeping in shape. She’d need to be ready for anything.

She had the rope. She didn’t know how to deal with being captured, but she knew how to spin a rope.

All these reasons flitted through her mind, smoothing down the waters without ever diving right in, until she got tired of walking down the main road and tried a shortcut. It turned out to be an alleyway.

Six crystal ponies jumped her. Dark cloth. Wide-brimmed hats.

Peccary growled. Applejack raised a hoof. The growling stopped.

“All right, Missy,” said what she presumed was the leader. “Just hand over your valuables, and no one gets – Holy Haematite! You again!”

Life rushed back into Applejack. With the rope in her mouth, she wasn’t about to start any small talk.

“Ugh, first the raid and now this.” The leader’s stick of straw shifted from one side of his mouth to the other. “Get –”

The Ice Lash wrapped around his legs. Applejack heaved and groaned and watched with utter satisfaction as he screamed past and smashed into the quartet of chain-wielding crooks who’d been sneaking up behind her.

Peccary stood very still. The rope had soared right over his head.

When she turned back, the other crooks were wielding iron chains and bars. One raised a hoof device glowing with rubies.

Too slow! She ducked the shot and swung the leader round like a hay-bale-tossing champion. Barely a flick of her jaws later, the links unwound from his hoof and the device, its owner, and the leader tumbled down the alley in confusion.

Of the remaining four fighters, none of them looked keen to get close. One stared after his disappearing colleagues until the clatter of cans and bits of crystal fell silent.

Applejack spat out the rope and grinned. “Jus’ try it, fellas. This is me bein’ friendly, see?”

They froze. All of them were armed. She suddenly wasn’t. But she was grinning. Bullies relied on their chums for support, otherwise their careers in the world of troublemaking were about as solid as an ice cream in a baker’s oven.

A chain-wielder dismissed his colleagues’ cautions and struck.

Applejack herself barely understood her own gravity-lurching movements. She trusted her instincts. The complicated motions ended up with the chain slicing the ground right where her legs had been, and one hoof resting not-too-casually on the links.

The chain-wielder tugged. Her leg jerked slightly.

On the second tug, she let go and he smacked himself in the face.

Peccary made a noise between a hum and a groan. He sounded impressed.

“Come on, fellas!” Applejack said loudly over the thump. “Y’all makin’ this look too easy!”

Of the remaining three, one took a step forwards. His colleagues shook their heads. He stepped backwards.

To her own surprise, she let out a bellowing “YEEHAW!” and charged.

Chains clattered and hoofsteps died away before she completed ten steps and came skidding to a halt. Their weapons lay strewn about the place, clearly not important enough to save.

She recovered the Ice Lash and came up to the leader, who was whimpering and curled up amid the scattered garbage. Such was the nature of the city that even their cast-off clothes and wrapping paper and tin cans sparkled along their facets.

“Maybe next time you fellas think of robbin’ some poor pony blind,” she said, “you’ll do us all a favour and join the circus instead.”

The leader jumped up, cast her a terrified look, and then scurried over his unconscious friend and fled out of sight. She couldn’t see him for the sparkly dust.

As for the rest…

Perhaps some degree of civic duty was called for, even in a place like this. A minute later, she strode out and tapped the shoulder of the first crystal guard she saw. A cool green slit-of-a-gaze turned to her. This pony had a partner too.

“Some fellas in that there alleyway lookin’ to start over.” She jerked her head towards the alley. “Tried to rob me blind, see?”

Only then did Peccary step out and hurry after her. In all the excitement, he’d taken a while to get up to speed.

Both guards exchanged expressionless looks with each other. Slight metallic puffs of breath rattled inside their helmets.

“Six of ‘em. One of ‘em had a blaster thingy. There were four more, but they got away. You need mah help with anythin’, jus’ say.”

Peccary uttered a low, menacing groan.

The first guard shook his – or her – head and signalled to the other. Applejack watched them disappear into the alleyway and was surprised to find herself disappointed. Whatever thrill had danced through her now ceased.

All too soon, she was back with her contemplations. She twirled the rope again. Now she had no weight on the end, it just wasn’t the same. Even the pig was barely important anymore.

Onward she went. At least home was right there, if she’d ever call a black tooth of a building “home”. Peccary stopped outside the door and cocked his head curiously; another pig had thundered to a halt before him. Applejack let the door slam on them both.

No one greeted her. Clanking and fizzing noises came from the other doorway. She guessed Flim and Flam were busy with something. Well, fine. She could bother them later, or thank them, or whatever she wanted to do with them. Right now, it wasn’t important.

She dropped the rope, went up the stairs, stumbled into her room, and was too tired to stop herself falling onto the bed.

Which, she realized too late, was made of crystal.

“OW!” She gripped her nose. “Hoo doggies, that smarts! Ow-how-HOW! Ah did NOT think this through! Ooooooow!”

Suri suddenly felt very exposed, as though her soul was falling away from the body and Feldspar could see it laid bare.

“Of course, all my hard work doesn’t add up to much if the show’s lousy,” said Feldspar. “I calculate every single match to maximize suspense and to please as many fans as possible, with as few petty arguments and dumb fights as possible. You know how many plates I have to spin? Even the reviews have to be carefully regulated, or else we get the stuff that blighted the deathmatches before me.”

“Um…” Suri wished she could back out. That voice was taxiing. It was coming up to the runway. She didn’t want to be on it when things took off.

“Um what?” said Feldspar. The pacing hoofsteps stopped.

Suri tried really, really hard to take in all the details of those spiky pigs. Anything to avoid whatever expression Feldspar had aimed at her.

“You said deathmatches before you?” said Suri.

A dangerous moment held its breath.

Then Feldspar sniffed with amusement. “This is the one thousand, nine hundred, and eighty first deathmatch. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh…”

“Stupid drama! That’s what I’m talking about! It’s a tightly organized harvesting system. It needs food, sunlight, warmth, water – all that stuff – to keep the crops coming in.”

When Feldspar next spoke, her voice shot up and Suri braced herself and the echoes around the cylinder brought back dozens of Feldspars all bursting with fury.

“SO WHEN I TELL YOU TO OFF HALF THE TEAM, YOU DARN WELL OFF HALF THE TEAM!”

“But –” Frightened bravery died on her lips.

“Good grief, girl! Wasn’t it bad enough you messed up the kidnapping!? No witnesses. No witnesses until you got hired for a job. And what happens? Acting on your information, using your help, we get a park full of witnesses and a Royal Guard who now know what species they’re dealing with! Mare alive, you idiot! You were on thin enough ice as it was!”

“Hey, that wasn’t my –”

“PUT A SOCK IN IT!” Now Feldspar was nose-to-nose with Suri. “And now we have a Team Backstabbers that can’t kill for toffee! That mindless animal did a better job than you!”

Outrage jumped to Suri’s defence while she cowered behind its shield. “Hey, wait a sec. You can’t pin that on me. Those losers had Applejack and Rarity and Coco surrounded. If it wasn’t for that orange pony, they’d have had ‘em.”

To her horror, she got a faceful of scream. Feldspar raised a hoof. She shut her eyes at once.

Nothing happened. When she risked a peek, she saw Feldspar, red-faced, veins popping, staggering away to pace up and down again.

“You don’t get it, do you?” said Feldspar suddenly. “You and Ahuizotl. This isn’t really about wiping out the other team. Do what you like with the rest of ‘em, I said. In fact, Suri, you’d have made a better impression if you had wiped out the rest of ‘em.”

“Don’t bring that up.” Suri clutched her stomach. Any moment now, she was going to throw up. “Come on. Please. I’m asking nicely, OK?”

“It’s about creating a story! Adding meaning to the fight! You don’t kill the main heroes in a goshdarned preliminary match!”

“So nobodies are OK?” Suri snapped.

“YES! And you killed exactly one, and then chickened out!”

It was all Suri could do not to haul off and slug her one. But that wasn’t how she would get her revenge, even in the rough climate of Manehattan. Sure, she told lies and stole ideas, but at least the victims were alive to wail about it. That was just business. This was beneath her. But she could still haul off and slug that witch one in the face.

The flash of light entered her mind. As though she were there in the sand pit, she felt her leg muscles rise to fire. She heard the pony scream. She didn’t even have time to tell if it had been a mare or a stallion. What the heck did it matter now?

Suri’s throat burned with bile.

And the way Coco had stared at her…

She ground her teeth.

“Lame,” Feldspar muttered in a sulk. “Next time, follow the script. Got it?”

“Oh, sure,” said Suri bitterly. “Of course, some ponies might wonder why there’s a script for trying to hurt the ponies trying to kill you. Why not just shoot ‘em and have done with it?”

“But where’s the style in that?” Once more, Feldspar slid into her excited child persona. It made Suri’s skin crawl. “You’ve got brains, Suri. Think: who’s the most popular character in any story you care to name? The hero? You have to root for them, but no. Not by a long shot. It’s the villain.”

“Aheheh,” said Suri, far more casually than she felt – anything to feel normal again – “Little pointer, sweetcakes: I’m not a villain, OK?”

“You are now, kiddo. That’s a good thing.”

You are now, kiddo.

You are now.

Suri was too shocked to move. She was gaping.

From somewhere Suri didn’t want to be, Feldspar’s words echoed on. “Team Backstabbers have been reigning champions for decades. It doesn’t matter that they get restocked every year. It’s the villainy that ponies like. They want the bad guys to win. They want to pretend they’re not so bad really. They think the bad boys and good-for-nothing girls can be – bless their little hearts – healed. ‘I will fix him,’ they say. ‘I can change her,’ they say.”

Suri saw the pit opening up before her. She almost stiffened trying not to fall in.

“Well, they can’t. That’s just some weird kink in pony brains, I guess. But as they say, when in Romanèchite, do as the Romanèchites do. And make money off it. That’s what I do.”

Rarity simply stood along the margins of the stable. She didn’t enjoy the “party” at all. Which was a shame, really: Cheese sang and danced and juggled and did things that should’ve landed him in hospital. He slapped backs. He tossed plates of cakes so expertly that ponies barely noticed them landing on their backs, complete with landing forks and complementary glasses of crystal grape juice.

Balloons, beach balls, inflatable pools with apples bobbing in them… whatever his other virtues, “restraint” was not among them. Yet the overall effect, paradoxically, was to make the place as miserable and lifeless as possible. Ponies stood about in a daze or gloomily inspecting plates and tables as though they were as fascinating as empty air.

One by one, they slipped out. Not that there had been many. Rarity counted only seven ponies who’d stayed besides her, and Cheese shouldn’t really count.

In fact, the only one who was making any effort was Trenderhoof, and even he winced and struggled his way through a dialogue with Cheese. Rarity’s heart ached for him. Sheer gallantry, that’s what it was. Only a true gentlecolt would suffer such harsh treatment for the sake of another.

All the same, Trenderhoof didn’t talk to anyone else either, even during those moments when Cheese abandoned him to try another karaoke competition. Not even to her! Rarity’s heart quailed at this. To be so refined, and yet so cruel!

Well then, why don’t YOU talk to him instead?

If the thought had possessed eyes, Rarity would have avoided them. She felt like a schoolfilly all over again.

So instead, she watched the few ponies who remained. That was always insightful, or at least it usually was. Here, her only major occupation was to note the varieties of gloom on display.

Her gaze fell upon the orange pony.

Her gaze remained upon the orange pony.

The orange pony hadn’t been there from the start. As Rarity watched, she slid around the edges and disappeared back into the locker rooms.

Hmm.

No one else was paying attention to her. Rarity sidled up to the door and squeezed through the gap.

On the far side of the room, the orange pony stood before one of the lockers. Its door swung open.

Suspicion crept through Rarity’s chest. None of them had been assigned lockers yet, and she was sure that Applejack or her would’ve gotten first pick, given their current status.

The way the orange pony stiffened. The way she had her ears cocked for the slightest sounds. The ever-so-slight rustle of effort trying to keep her own sounds to a minimum.

Rarity slipped inside. She crept towards the nearest row of lockers and pressed herself up against the first one, out of sight. All without taking her eyes off the orange pony. Gently, she used her magic to ease the door shut behind her. She kept only one eye exposed.

Her ear detected clanking, the strain of a wire being unfurled, something clicking into place, a slight hum of energy –

The orange pony spun round. Rarity ducked out of sight. Silence waited in ambush.

She held her breath.

Then the noises continued.

What is she doing? What if I get caught?

Rarity raised a leg to sneak out… and drew it back. No. She might be spotted. Yet she also couldn’t wait here. Not if she thought the orange pony was half as competent as her body language suggested. Worse, there was no other cover. She'd be cornered. And something about the orange pony's manner suggested getting caught would be painful at best.

Carefully, slowly, silently, Rarity focused on her horn.

The telekinetic magic slid up the side of the locker as a questing limb, feeling its way along the smooth contours and over the lip to the top. There was… she felt around… a narrow gap between ceiling and locker. Just enough for one pony to squeeze in if they could climb up.

A slam: the orange pony shuffled. Straightening up, perhaps?

Rarity sighed. No choice. This next trick was, well, going to be tricky. Rarity held her spell in place. She bent and stretched, bent and stretched, bent and stretched in readiness.

Slowly, she reeled herself up. The strain was like pulling herself up using one forelimb, but flatter herself though she may, she wasn’t nearly as weightless as she’d pretended. In her mind, she cursed her weakness for triple chocolate sundaes; those things were pure sugary evil!

Up and, equally slowly, over… She did not dare move a real limb, and so had to bend snakelike around the sharp edge like a blade. Wisely, she kept her back an inch clear of this blade.

Only then did she dare peek down.

Erect ears passed by; the orange pony finished sneaking up on the corner, and then surged forwards and looked. No one there. But of course.

Rarity drew back, just in case. She didn’t breathe again until the door opened and closed. She prepared to step down –

Wait a moment.

She paused.

She waited.

She listened. No sounds.

Then the door opened, actual hoofsteps followed, and it closed again. This time, the orange pony’s muffled hoofsteps died away.

Aha. I thought so. I’ve pulled that trick on Sweetie Belle once too often to fall for it myself!

Now to see what she’s been up to.

Rarity slid down the side of the locker and released the spell with a gasp. Her horn was going to ache horribly, but that could be dealt with later. Business first.

She crept over to the locker. Fourth one along from the right. Her memory was needed; once shut, it looked no different from the others.

Unthinkingly, her spell reached out to open it.

Thinkingly, her spell cut off at once.

That would be too easy.

Instead, she held her breath and forced the magic through, squeezing it through the tightest gaps. The nice thing about telekinetic magic was that it lacked the shortcomings of flesh-and-blood limbs. She could feel her way through the inside of the locker as though patting it with tiny hooves.

This wasn’t something they’d taught at school. On the battlefield of sisterly warfare, she’d soon devised her own weapons of class destruction. And to think her unicorn friends were content just to levitate stuff!

All the same, her brain felt like it was going to pop out of her ears. Do it soon, do it soon, do it soon! I’m going to burst!

It didn’t take long. Some heavy mass sat up against the back of the locker. It clicked and hummed continuously. Ever so slightly, she felt the threads of two wires, one either side of the door, which ran along the inside and then joined in the middle. Taped down, possibly, or somehow embedded into the crystal?

Something told her it would be a bad idea to open the door. Opening it would pull the wires. Somehow, she doubted the heavy mass was a pie-throwing machine.

She took a deep breath and probed further. Little bits, crystals here and there, but clockwork and metal pieces too. Forcing her spell to cling on, she held the heavy mass and eased it, the wires, and the attached door open. Gently. Quietly. Desperately trying not to collapse her own head through sheer magical effort.

OK, you’ve opened the door. Now what?

Within the mechanical tangle and mishmash, a single gemstone pulsed. Now, machinery was a bit beyond her unless it had needles and thread attached, but gemstones were something else. And this was packed with vibrating power. If it went off, anything standing nearby would probably end up vaporized. She almost sweated at the touch.

Yet she’d moved several decorative stones before. This was no more challenging than the readjustment of a badge on a lapel. Levitating and still feeling as though her brain was about to explode, she lowered the gemstone to the ground.

Only then did she yank the wires off the door.

Something clicked. A tiny hammer swung up and hit the now-unoccupied space where the gemstone had been. Two bolts zipped through the gap. A very small laser cut across the emptiness.

Rarity glowered at it. Stimulators. But who on earth would want to put a stimulated powerhouse gemstone in a random locker? If someone else had opened it without knowing what was inside…

My word. I think we need to keep a close eye on our orange friend.

The locker slid shut again. Rarity tucked the gemstone into the space on top of the locker and went off to find a trash can in the party room. Neither Cheese nor Trenderhoof noticed when she dumped it and strode out of the stable and into the street.

For a moment, she thought she saw an orange face watching from the other side of the road. When she stopped to look, however, a pair of crystal guards strode past and the house opposite was empty.

Rarity took deep breaths. She didn’t bother waiting for Trenderhoof. He could make his own confounded way home.

“Why don’t you just sell stuff like anyone else?” said Suri. “What’s with the death stuff?”

Feldspar groaned. Behind her, the pigs shook their heads sadly.

“Not so simple, I’m afraid,” said Feldspar.

“Aheheh, and why’s that? I’d have thought a smart pony like you woulda found a way, OK?”

“Don’t blame me! I’m just the delivery mare. It’s the crowd. You can’t afford to lose the crowd, Suri. That way madness lies.”

“So you’re saying you axe the deathmatch gig, and the whole Empire turns psycho on you?”

“No, you idiot!” said Feldspar – a bit too quickly, in Suri’s estimation – “Anyway, we’ve had revolutions aplenty. They don’t change a thing. Revolutions come and go, some other House gets into power, and the whole thing starts all over again. How do you think I landed this ‘gig’? How do you think I’m going to go out, sooner or later?”

“What, you? In this wonderland?”

“Nothing comes cheap. Or free. Before me, it was the House of Organics. They thought like you too. They didn’t last very long.” Feldspar smirked. “I made sure of that.”

“So what, then? You’re afraid of getting a bad rap?”

“Sales! Selling them stuff! Keeping their tiny minds contented in this wretched heckhole.”

“I thought you said this was the best place in the universe?”

“It is! And it’s a heckhole! If it weren’t for me, it’d be even worse!”

“In what way exactly –”

“What are you, my confidante? Get out of here.”

But in Suri’s mind, a little voice said, I’ve got you, you scumbag. Oh yes, I’ve got you now.

Feldspar sighed. “I like you, Suri, so I’m only gonna say this once. It’s not an easy job running the best place in the world. And it’s not made easier by ponies not doing what I ask them to do. Now follow the instructions, or you’ll end up as a nice decoration on the corner of Sapphire Street. Understood?”

Suri boiled with rage. “Get lost. I’m not a backstreet thug like those other mooks you hired.”

“Ah yes. Big mare in the city, are you?”

Suri’s patience was almost all smoke and vapour.

“Hmm… that said, a creative mind like yours could be put to use. How do you feel about marketing?”

Despite the hot waters of rage, Suri still felt unclean. She wouldn’t forget the flash or Coco’s face. Never mind her dog-eat-dog philosophy: they were still only Equestrians. She never wanted to kill anyone.

“You don’t wanna know what I’m feeling right now,” she said.

“Oh, boo hoo. Get over it. Killing’s not gonna upset anyone’s feelings. Haven’t you got the message by now? The little colts and fillies like it. They love it. Anyway, mere controversy I can deal with. Any news is good news. But this Magical Deathmatch: this is the sacred cow. You think you have it bad? All you have to do is pull the trigger when I say when. I have to duck and dodge and deal with life and death on the battlefield of public opinion. So quit acting like you’re getting a raw deal. Ponies are going to love the Evil Suri.”

You couldn’t have missed the point more if you were blindfolded, Suri thought angrily.

“Now what?” she hissed, not trusting herself to say more in case she exploded into a screaming rage.

Feldspar gave her a lopsided look, briefly confused. Or at least apparently so: her pupils quivered. She seemed to be making her mind up about something.

Then she scurried around the desk and disappeared. Axles squeaked. After some muttering, her face appeared overhead. In control. Dominating the scene.

“Ah yes. That’s right.” Paper shuffled. “Dressmaking.”

Now Suri herself would be the first to admit she lacked creative talent. Or not. She wouldn’t exactly admit to it. That wouldn’t be to her advantage. But she knew it in her heart. It needled her. It stung. It laughed at her every time she saw someone else’s works dazzling the audience.

However, in some respects she was a very quick thinker. “All right,” she said coldly. “What do you want made?” Because she couldn’t resist it, she added, “Buster?”

“Less of the lip.” Feldspar grinned again, never put out for long. “How d’you like to be an assistant?”

“How d’you like some manners, you oversized brat?”

Pigs on either side snorted. They sounded amused. They sounded distinctly less amused when Feldspar glared at them.

“I was going to say you could be the new face of Team Backstabbers,” said Feldspar through gritted teeth. “Look, you know the aim of the game. I know the aim of the game. Why fight it? Stick with me, kid, and you could be the biggest and the baddest superstar Team Backstabbers – no, the entire Magical Deathmatch series – has ever known.”

Suri opened her mouth to argue. She got as far as the first gasp of breath. Then her brain kicked her.

This witch is just playing with you, part of her thought.

Yeah, thought another, much grimmer part. Better playing games than playing dead, eh? Listen to the mare. Darn it! She’s got me right where she wants me. Tempting witch.

Her mind worked furiously. There had to be an angle, or maybe a downside, to all this. But what could it be?

Overhead, Feldspar leaned forwards, gaping with anticipation. Hungry for an answer.

Rarity strode along the road. At no point did she even consider touching the alleyways. Once had been bad enough.

This time, she noticed as she walked along the occasional stares thrown her way. Noticed out of the corner of her eye: she glanced up every time, but the crystal ponies were careful to look away instantly. Many kept their heads down.

Clearly, it didn’t pay to give certain ponies too much attention. Overhead, Diamond Bites drifted to and fro.

Partway along, she noticed six guards, each keeping pace with a chained and shuffling prisoner. The ponies wore dark cloth, but their manes were a mess as though they’d recently lost long-loved hats. They tramped along without hope, with their heads down, with no colour in their coats.

Creeping up on her, the dread shivered through her limbs. Long years of fashionista drama had drilled into Rarity an instinct. She reached up for her mane. Curls were coming undone.

Terror caught in her throat. At times like this, she needed reminding of the beauty of the world. Beauty was all she had. There were no clothes, no accessories, nothing to draw out what lurked in the hearts of mares. If she couldn’t even trust her mane to stay together, what chance did she have?

“The strength of the artefact is important, but so is the inner strength of whoever’s using it.” That’s what Cadence had said. Well, she’d been wielding the tiara all day and had felt nothing. And her inner strength was always looking outwards.

No, Rarity. You have to face up to it. You were stupid to let Applejack go off alone. Now would be a really good time for a friend. And what of poor Applejack? I’m sure she needs a friend close by.

Typical, thoughtless, selfish Rarity.

Now she was thinking, Should I be alone on a strange street?

From her left, someone leaped out of the darkness.

Rarity drew a leg back and kicked the pony in the face. Two more instantly smothered her beneath their cloaks. Strong hooves clamped over her mouth.

Big mistake.

Rarity bit down hard. One pony drew away, cursing. As soon as she could, she spun round to swipe at the other, but now all three of them had jumped her and caught her limbs in their embraces. She merely wriggled feebly.

Loud and long, Rarity screamed. Or would’ve done, if one attacker hadn’t promptly covered her mouth with both hooves.

“You said she’d be easier,” hissed one of them.

Grunting, they jostled her into the shadows. A fourth silhouette stepped into what passed for dim light.

“She is. She’s not even armed.” He leaned down and inspected her closely, stick of crystal hay glinting as it shifted from one end of his mouth to the other. “Now, girly, I’m gonna do this quick, because I am not in a good mood. Hand over your valuables.”

Rarity’s insults were lost to the muffling hooves. She tried biting. Neither hoof shifted.

“All right,” said the leader. “Hand over you.” He chuckled, but there was no mirth in it whatsoever. “I’m sure we’ll find a use for her. Let’s just get the heck out of this side of town.”

Thrashing, Rarity briefly freed her mouth. “AAAAAARRRRRRGGGGHHHH –”

“OW!” Hoof smothered her muzzle again. “That was right in my ear, you freaking hornhead!”

At least it had the desired effect. The leader suddenly looked about, panic barely kept in check.

Roughly, they bundled her along the edge of the road. All the while, Rarity noticed them keeping to the shadows of overhangs and patios and the occasional alcove. They weren’t just glancing up at the Diamond Bites or across for potential crystal guards. They inspected windows and side streets too.

Once more, she tried lashing out. Nothing she did could dislodge them.

Then they turned down the next street, and immediately found it blocked. They stopped dead.

A dozen crystal ponies stood in a line. Unlike the crooks holding Rarity, their cloth was rather more stately and layered. Rarity saw smart jackets, faux ermine capes, tight shirts, and wide hats with feathers dashing out of them. Being crystal, the whole ensemble seemed finely carved.

Would that circumstances had been different! That ensemble! That style! They had a certain picaresque, debonair swashbuckler-chic about them.

Very quietly, the crook with the stick of hay in his mouth said, “Oh sugar.”

Some of the stately ponies reached under their capes. Crystal glinted. In the windows on either side, more faces looked out and more crystals glinted.

“Dear me,” said the stateliest of the ponies standing before them. Judging from her excess of jewellery and her central position, Rarity assumed she was the head of the gathering. “Strays wandered onto our territory, by the look of it.”

Rarity looked up for Diamond Bites. An overhang covered the street. She was as good as invisible.

The leader of the crooks gibbered. “No, no, we were just on our way out, really.”

“Is that right?” The stateliest one – which Rarity's over-romanticised mind privately called “Dashing Desperado” – tipped her hat, the feather shaking slightly as she did so. “And this dear wench is just your girlfriend for the evening, is she, Spessartine?”

“I found her! Finders keepers!”

“Right, and we found you.” Dashing waved a hoof. The other stylish ponies stalked closer. “You got your own patch, Spessartine. And this ain’t Titanium Town, last I checked. Last I checked, this was midway between Alkali Quarter and Plagioclase District. None of them are your patches, boy. Or have I got my geography mixed up with my geology?”

Rarity shoved an unresisting hoof out of her mouth. By then, the other crooks were backing off. It was the only direction that didn’t involve getting mobbed. Dashing’s colleagues kept coming.

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Rarity bent down at the surprised Dashing’s hooves and kissed them over and over. “Mwa! Mwa-mwa-mwa! MMMwwwaaa! I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in time!”

Chuckles ran around the circle. Behind her, the sound of retreating hoofsteps died away. She was surrounded by well-dressed ponies who suddenly seemed very interested in her.

A touch of doubt dropped into her mind.

“Um,” she said, “this is a rescue, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” said Dashing with a smirk. “Yeah, let’s go with that. I’m sure a pretty gal like you is wasted on a bunch of rowdies like them. Lucky for you we’re more civilized company.”

Before Dashing signalled, Rarity shot to her hooves and screamed louder.

Too late, strong legs lashed out. She sidestepped, twirled, and then hit someone’s outstretched leg and tripped onto her own back.

“Oh…” she groaned.

Upside-down, she saw the road as a ceiling. Four ponies ran back up it, iron chains spinning.

The four crooks gave a great battle cry, and at once Dashing shouted something and the two sides fell upon each other. Two sides fighting on the “ceiling” was quite a sight.

Then Rarity remembered herself and flipped over. She had enough sense, after all. Barely had she made it two steps when Dashing swept into view before her.

Oh curses! To barrel past her would be to besmirch those lovely clothes! What devious cunning!

Rarity’s horn glowed. The robe rose up and over, and Dashing yelped as it dropped over her eyes. Rarity left the not-rescuer to struggle with the entangled cloth and bolted. Her brief pride at finding a loophole immediately went out.

Home! Home! Home! Anything’s better than this! She turned the corner and bumped off a crystal guard.

Eventually, the ringing in her ears died down. She held her head to stop it vibrating.

Squadrons of crystal guards surged past her to the disturbance. Soon, the usual thumps and groans of fighting took on urgent tones as they presumably hit harder or yelped more desperately.

Guards stepped out of Rarity’s way, and one approached her directly. At least, this one was clearly a guard from the neck down, but unlike the others she wore nothing from the neck up. Faceted eyes frowned seriously at her.

“Another disturbance,” said the guard. “Are you all right, Miss?”

Rarity’s eyes widened with sudden recognition. “You –”

“Are merely a servant within the Crystal Guard's Silicate Force. Of course, you are new and would not know that, not having met me before.”

“What are you talking abou –” Rarity’s brain kicked into gear. “Oh. Right. Sorry. I… must still be in shock.”

The guard raised an eyebrow. “Shock?”

“From having recently been kidnapped twice,” said Rarity carefully. “That’s not something that happens often. It was a good thing you showed up in time to rescue me from those criminals. I thank you.”

To show willing, she nodded her head curtly. Not once did she dare look up. Those floating Diamond Bites would almost certainly be there.

“I am Titanite, Commander of the Silicate Force. What happened?”

“They were fighting over me!” Rarity wailed. “That’s what happened!”

Titanite looked her up and down. “This happens often to you?”

“Not in that way! They were crooks! And kidnappers! I’m sure I mentioned it!”

One guard approached Titanite and leaned forwards. Metallic echoes whispered in such a way that Rarity scarcely heard bits of it. At once, Titanite straightened up.

“Ah, now it makes sense,” she said authoritatively. “The Alkali and Plagioclase Gang must have caught strays. It sometimes happens. However, rest assured you are now in protective custody.”

“I want to go home.” Shamefully, the words were out before Rarity could put a stop to them. But why not? I was nearly snipped by a Scorpony and shot at by Suri and covered in dust that I KNOW no amount of brushing is going to get out! I’ll be itching for days! I’ve had enough! I want home! I want it now! I wanna goooooo hooooooome!

Titanite gave her a steady gaze, as though trying to work out something. “Perhaps you could be of assistance, Miss?”

“Is it necessary?” Rarity said. From the side street, someone’s yelp was cut off.

“No. We respect personal liberty –”

“Ha!” Rarity wondered if she was delirious. How long had it been since her last drink?

“…and you are free to walk away,” finished Titanite.

“Many gracious thanks, Commander,” said Rarity stiffly. “However, I’m afraid you simply must seek out someone who has had a less stressful day of not dying. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a pillow to cry into.”

Without waiting for an answer, Rarity stepped around the affronted face and stumbled her way back to the big black tooth of a building. She hated just looking at it. She loathed the idea that she had to live in it.

There were too many things to think about. Rarity shut them out the entire time, and spent so much energy doing so that she didn’t notice Applejack on the bed until she snored suddenly.

Rarity sighed and made for the other bed. Trust Applejack to forget whose was whose.

Defying her thoughts, she lay wide awake and tried not to wonder what kind of favour a commander-plus-underground-traitor would want. Something strenuous, almost certainly. Well, that was another pony’s problem. Not hers. She had enough of those rotten things as it was.

“Superstar?” said Suri, contriving to sound utterly unbelieving while leaving room for a possible useful bit of belief, if one were so persuasive.

Feldspar tapped the desk impatiently. “Listening now, are we? Yes, you’d have a special role to play. Face of the new Team Backstabbers is just the start. Everyone loves a bad girl image. And then there’s the studio – your very own studio! – as promised. And who knows? Teach you a thing or two about crystalline fabrics and we could set you up for your old career again. There’s always a call for fads and fashions. They’ll sell like hotcakes. Crystal hotcakes, with golden sprinkles. Made from actual gold.”

And Suri was thinking: Hmm.

Hatred burned on, but for the moment, the flame dimmed.

“Superstar,” she murmured under her breath.

Well, there was the comfort. After the last few days, hadn’t she dreamed of getting back to her old Manehattan life? Making dresses? Stealing designs? Tutoring useless assistants and making fun of them? Those were the best days of all.

Assistant, though? The heck will I be anyone’s assistant. Those days are dead. I’m not going back THAT far.

“How about some kind of managerial position?” she said.

“I’d sooner put on hiking boots and jump on thin ice. What’s wrong with assistant? When you’re an assistant to me, you can’t get much higher without being a crystal pony.”

“Yes, sure, whatever, yeesh.” Suri wondered if the hiking boots could be arranged, but dismissed that particular revenge plot as impractical.

Cool as a true Manehattanite, she added, “My own studio, you say? Big one, is it?”

“Practically a palace.”

Deep inside Suri’s buried and scabby heart, a little filly bounced around squealing. Even the best Manehattan studios only occupied one whole floor.

“Doesn’t sound too bad,” she said.

“Magical Deathmatch season is starting. If you’re gonna be the new face, then I suggest you get to work on your sales pitch. The last pony couldn’t give this stuff away.”

“What happened to them?” Suri said before she could stop herself.

Feldspar giggled. “There’s an awfully nice statue down on Triclinic T-Junction. You’re welcome to take pictures, if you want.”

Suri ignored this. If she paid attention to every petty threat thrown her way, she’d have never gotten far in Manehattan.

“Not that it’ll come to that. You’re the creative type, right?” said Feldspar.

There was a sneer behind those words. Suri added another item to a private list of grievances. Besides, in that sneer she heard a horrible copy of her own dulcet tones.

“Yeah,” she said coolly. “Creative like a gallery. Heck, I could have my own gallery.”

“Dream on, cutie.”

Hatred flared up again. Suri needed all her city-born skill just to stop twitching. That list was getting longer fast.

“Well?” Feldspar waved her away airily. “First things first. Go get me some coffee, assistant. Crystal cappuccino. We’re gonna have to rebuild the teams. Tuskcrusher will show you to the kitchen.”

By now, all Suri could do was steady her breathing. The rest of her trembled with barely controlled fury. There will not be a hole deep enough for that little crystal freak. I’ll tear her limb from limb. When I’m through with her, there won’t be a single pony who’ll remember her name.

One of the pigs stepped forwards and grunted. Glaring at Feldspar until she got sick of the sight of her, Suri followed it around the desk and towards the darker area beyond. A single archway led to more darkness, and a distant light, as though she were peering down a glacial shaft in the mountains.

“Oh wait, one more thing,” said Feldspar.

Suri turned. The crystal mare was standing on a normal-sized crystal chair, all blocks and sloping facets. However, it was raised several feet off the ground. Most of the desk was hollowed out, save for drawers and cabinets.

Axles squeaked as the chair spun. That giggle was really starting to get on her nerves.

Feldspar said, “For someone who’s not a villain, you’re handling your first kill awfully well.”

Something snapped. Suri blazed with loathing. Nothing would work unless that cocky little crystal face was reduced to splinters. She marched straight for the chair –

At once, the pigs surged forwards.

Suri stopped. The pigs slowed, turning their charge into a menacing crawl. Every single one bristled with enough dental horrors to fit twenty different species, and all of them ate ponies.

Cooler heads prevailed. Suri backed off slowly.

To make absolutely sure, she raised her hoof to her eyes and then pointed at Feldspar. I’ll be watching you. I’ll make hawks look blind.

Feldspar waved cheerfully. She was just the type to pull faces at a caged tiger. Suri knew that type.

Groaning, Suri followed the pig into the darkness, with only the light at the end for company. Assistant. A mere assistant, me. There will be Tartarus to pay, you little crystal freak. She only noticed Peccary galloping past when they almost collided and she swore after him.

Plots ran through her mind. Eat or be eaten, huh? Well, it’d work for her yet. She’d make it so. It’d work for her yet.

Coco stumbled down yet another street. After a while, they blended into one another. Plus, her hooves were aching.

Yes. Sadly, after all these blurry hours and exhausted miles, she had to admit she was lost.

Every single empty house looked like every other single empty house. She’d only managed to navigate using the vast contours and stalactites of the cave roof, but half the time they hid behind the large buildings on the ground.

“Excuse me,” she said to a passing pony. They merely lowered their head and hurried away.

“Sorry to bother you,” she said to another retreating back.

“I’d just like directions to… And you’re gone too.” She sighed. “Of course you are.”

There was no community feeling anywhere. Ponies even avoided looking at each other. After the way they’d exploded with excitement all together in the arena, this was wrong. She could sense it through her heart.

In fact, this city was nothing more than Manehattan version two-point-oh. Not because of how it looked – though the towers, general busy-ness, and night-life aesthetic certainly helped – but because of the ever-familiar sense that she could vanish overnight and no one would miss her. Ponies back home might eye her up suspiciously or rant at her if she tried talking to them, but in both cases the cloud of distrust was thick.

Interesting. She wondered if this place had ever seen someone like Charity Kindheart. Obviously, not her. Just her type. Coco sorely wanted someone like her right now. Even the wide open streets felt dangerous.

She passed a dark alley without a second glance. Being city-born-and-bred, Coco avoided alleyways on principle.

And… there! That’s the tower.

If such could be called a tower. The building was a mass of blocky spires, the inner ones rising higher than the outer ones until the lot resembled a gigantic crown. Under the darkness, the outline pulsed with a sickly green.

Relief flooded through her. At last, a way to shelter! She had to get off these streets. She looked left and right. She saw… Um…

She saw no branching streets.

No direct path. Again, she’d have to walk round. On hooves that were killing her, to add salt to the wound, or at least to add more tramping steps to throbbing feet.

Coco groaned and sat down. Enough was enough. Couldn’t the universe spare her the indignity for a change? Wasn’t it bad enough her career was going to tank like this? Alone, sans dresses, a mere shopping accessory to some country nouveau riche –

Furiously, Coco shook herself down. Manehattanite spirit, usually weak and feeble, now roared within her chest.

That's going too far. This is too far. Well, I’m not taking this lying down. I’ll march for as long as it takes. Then we’ll see whether nice girls finish last OR first.

Such was her determination that she failed to notice the pony coming the other way.

Metal dinged.

Coco shook herself down and looked up. “Oh my word, I’m so sorr –”

She almost bit her tongue. One of the crystal guards stood before her, sans helmet, sans partner, and – worse – sans any goodwill or good humour in her stare.

“Eep,” Coco managed to say.

“Pardon me, madam,” said the guard. “Can I help you?”

Almost tripping, Coco backed off. “Eep – I mean, uh, s-sorry about that. I was just, um…”

“My colleagues reported seeing you circling the plaza earlier. You seem to be lost.”

“No, no, no,” said Coco. Guilt and reason gave her funny looks. “I mean, yes, sorry, yes I am. I’m trying to get to the Eleven Towers.”

“Ah!” The guard’s face allowed a smile to peek round the corner of her mouth. “I know that region well. In fact, I have a house there. Allow me to escort you, madam.”

“Oh, you needn’t put yourself out,” Coco said automatically, and then wished she’d thought before speaking.

To her surprise, she saw the guard simply turn and watch. A floating platform leaped over the rooftops and then, as though noticing company, it slowed and guided itself to a stop right next to them.

Instinct told Coco to steer clear of such technology. Throbbing legs and childlike wonder inclined her closer. Those pulsing lights were worth a few moments of silent awe.

“It’s beautiful,” she said.

The guard politely gestured for her to climb aboard.

Childishly, Coco thought it’d sag the moment she stepped onto the platform. Crazy. Looked like something that’d shatter, but felt like solid stone. She couldn’t resist peering over the edge as the guard clambered up.

“I’ll drop you off just outside,” said the guard. Around them, the edges curled inwards. Coco’s brief image of her tumbling over the side vanished. Obviously, they’d thought of everything. Even a couple of Diamond Bites hovered closer to watch them go.

The thing lurched. Coco covered her mouth. Rooftops gently rose up. She’d fantasized about floating up on balloons when she’d been a filly, and apart from the balloons, the view was just as breathtaking as she'd imagined it.

She dared herself to lean over the safety edges. “Amazing. How does it work?”

“Lines of force. Many things work using lines of force. You’d have to be a crystal pony to see them.” Pride warmed the guard’s voice.

“Wow.” Coco’s hoof slipped. She merely gave herself a jolt and a scare, but it was enough. She refrained from leaning after that.

Up ahead, the Eleven Towers loomed.

Then the guard spoke, and this time the timbre was deep and serious. “Miss Coco Pommel, up here we can speak freely.”

Coco’s glowing joy iced over. She didn’t like that commanding voice. It promised no friends. Worse, it suggested enemies were a plausible option.

Trying to remember anything from defence class years ago, she spun round. “What? What? How do you know my name?”

“We can get you out of this place,” the guard said urgently. Her face was professionally blank. “You do not belong here. It’s clear from your life history this place will prove fatal to you. However…”

“You can get me out?” Coco said.

“However,” said the guard, adding a warning to her voice, “you in turn must help us.”

“Who’s ‘us’?” Coco’s chest beat with hope and squirmed with suspicion. “Who are you?”

“The name is Titanite.”

“You’re serious? You can help me escape? But the others said –”

“The other crystal ponies said what they wanted you to hear. They are not your allies, and they are not mine. They have no incentive to tell the truth.”

“But you can help?”

“If you help us, yes.”

Coco nodded, sadly familiar with this tit-for-tat approach. Back in Manehattan, no one ever did anything for free. There was always a price.

“This is too sudden,” she said. “I barely know who you are.”

“Listen to me. Dressmaking is possible again. We can have you making dresses. We know your type. That’s where we need help.”

Coco opened her mouth to object.

But she’d said the magic word… Dressmaking.

No. No, this was too good to be true. Manehattan had taught her that lesson as well.

“Commissioned work?” she said suspiciously.

“Total creative freedom. Our best at your beck and call. No one to tell you what to do or how to do it. We can provide you with a studio and a budget, but the rest is up to you. Think of it as a service. That’s all we ask, and then once you’ve made the dresses, we can guarantee your freedom.”

Total creative freedom. Total creative freedom. “Sorry, could you say that first part again?”

Confused, Titanite repeated, “Total creative freedom.”

This time, Coco’s sigh was one of pleasure. Those words had been tossed around all her life like a game of keep-away. Now they were landing in her lap. She raised both hooves to pinch herself, but declined due to the presence of eyebrow-raising company.

“Do I have to decide now?” Eleven Towers grew faster until she was looking up at one massive spire, and they entered its shadow.

“No,” said Titanite.

Gently, the platform tapped the ground. Coco declined the guard’s offered forelimbs and hopped down, stumbling slightly.

“Take your time to think about our offer,” said Titanite. “If you change your mind, you can find us in Titanium T – Blast. I mean… The Silicate Centre. You can find us at the Silicate Centre. Ask for Titanite. They’ll know what to do.”

Coco mouthed the words. Total creative freedom.

No Suri. No stage productions. No wannabe divas shouting for coffee. No waiting for someone to take charge. No sales assistant work! I must’ve died and gone to heaven. Oh, please oh please tell me this is real.

A frown crossed her face. Something wasn’t right. The way the guard talked.

“Excuse me,” she called up as the platform drifted away from the ground. “Who’s this ‘we’ you keep talking about?”

The platform hovered and then landed. Titanite leaned forwards.

“Just think of us,” she whispered, “as the ponies who will abolish Magical Deathmatch. Forever.”

While the platform disappeared over the rooftops, Coco stood and chewed her lip for a moment. It sounded like a no-brainer. She didn’t trust no-brainers.

On the other hoof… what could be worse than waiting for the next brush with death? The screaming fans? The monsters?

Suri, aiming at her? The one poor pony, vanishing? The flash? Everything for one moment resting on whether or not Suri had a conscience?

Coco shivered. She’d think about it. That committed her to nothing. Fine by her.

She went inside. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to come out for a good long while. She was used to being on her own. At least then, she had the only company she could – ultimately – trust.