Before the formation of the Pillars, who brought ponykind into safety with their virtues and power, Equestria was a fractured land. The apex hunters of this world, full of creatures desperately clinging to life, were the Changelings.
Hundreds of years before the legendary Starswirl opened his eyes, a moment of change shook Equestria without even being noticed. Such is the way of the Changeling hive.
A new brood has hatched, unlike any other the hive has seen in generations: Changeling princesses, destined to lead the hive in a new direction that their mother could not. But the path is not easy for any one of them. Pony settlements dot every corner of Equestria, spreading thin the hive's hunters across the vast hunting ground.
Faced with the possibility of a divergence, a splitting of the home hive across Equestria, the princesses are thrust into the savagery of the world around them; their hive, their world, even their prey, show no mercy. To keep their kind alive, the princesses have no choice but to unleash their wrath upon those who would challenge them, lest they lose their hold on their family.
There was nothing but dreaming, before the hatching. She didn't know anything else but the instincts implanted through those dreams. How to eat. That was an important dream.
She felt like she was there at the feast. She saw the hive from the eyes of a Queen, watching her drones draw on the magic of the animals around them. Timberwolves crumbled to sticks, chickens and other livestock squealed only for a moment.
But it was the ponies that burned that lesson into her mind. Filled with so much magic, magic which was powered by strong emotion, the ponies could do nothing but fade as the drones drained them of dread, hatred, joy, love, and finally life.
It was a good dream. But then the world had to knock on her egg.
Her first instinct was to curl up, a submissive defence left behind by her primal relationship to lesser drones. But she was not the same as the drones. To ensure her family was safe, she needed to be strong.
She bit voraciously at whatever dared to tear her from her egg-dream, feeling hot liquid drip across her lips and tongue. It tasted foul, salty and bitter, but as long as she was being pulled from her egg, she would fight it. Then suddenly the thing was shoved away.
She fluttered her thin wings and wiped the fluid from her eyes, realizing that it was the same green ichor that flowed in her own body. She shot glances around her surroundings, catching glimpses of the other bodies around her. Somehow she knew they were her sisters.
The one who had torn her out was a sister, and the one who had saved her was the same. She looked at them, wondering briefly at what they were doing, trying to make out the actions of their shadowed silhouettes. She focused so much her head began to hurt.
She opened her mouth to breath the fresh air of the hive. No air came. She choked against the egg of another sister, a lucky one who was about to hatch but could enjoy the dream for a few moments more. The egg was bulging, ready to burst, and it was suffocating her.
It didn't take long to realize what was happening. Her dreams of the hive told her that it was a wide, open cavern with tunnels to fly through and nooks to sleep in. This was not the promised hive, but a pit, and there was not enough space.
Even if her sister would hatch in a few more moments, she knew that was too long. She'd be suffocated by then, or crushed by the egg's weight. Survival instinct took control and she bared her fangs, tearing into the bulbous egg sac until nutrient-rich fluids spilt out.
Immediately, faster than she could have imagined, something bit back. It nipped at her legs first, gnawing at the gaps of her chitinous exoskeleton. But quickly that gnawing turned to a sharp pain in her leg as a fang punctured her protective outer layer.
She wouldn't let this one succeed. Memories of her dreams, her instincts, flashed in her mind. She imagined it was the same for her sister. They were memories of hunting and fighting; the hive was a single unit, but at some point, an ancient generation found the need to fight tenaciously against their own kind.
Before her sister could get a solid footing on the ground, she shoved her horn blindly into the egg sac. There was no seeing past the egg fluid, but she felt her head pierce something hard. The familiar scent of ichor flowed down her head, and she knew she had struck a soft spot under her sister's protective chitin layer.
The biting continued, but slowly it returned to weak gnawing, and finally, her body ceased moving. She tore her head out from her sister's egg sac and gasped her first real breath of air, reading all the scents around her. She was a princess, like all the other sisters in this pit. She sensed drones all around, watching the spectacle as if judging the ones who would rule over them.
But another scent dominated the drones. It commanded respect and fealty, eliciting fear in all the princesses who had the same chance to sense the Queen. But then she noticed something. Somewhere in that frightening scent was pride. Their mother's pride.
Knowing she gained favour in her mother's eyes sparked something feral inside the princess. She turned around and launched herself at the first shadow she saw. Her body collided with her sister's, and together they tumbled over a third body, yet another hatching sister torn from her egg.
The young princess struggled with this sister, who already had her fill of killing as well. She lowered her head to thrust her horn but her sister clearly practised the dream-memory better. She hissed as a stabbing pain shot from one foreleg to the rest of her body.
She thought she would die there, in the pit, the scent of her mother's pride, a pride that was not for her. But this trial was filled with its own surprises. Their other sister, newly hatched, was now just as quick and vicious as they were. The newborn sank her teeth into a wing of the sister who attacked her, tearing through the thin, brittle flesh.
The princess wasted no time. She reached her horn under and thrust it into her attacker's chest, but the attack missed. She was running from the princess, from the fight. Her wing may have been torn, but she still had other means to escape the pit.
She then felt the call as well. Instinct, a distant dream left behind by princesses who suffered this same ordeal thousands of generations ago, commanded her to leave the pit. She didn't realize until she started climbing that the reason was that there was finally enough space to climb.
A dozen dead sisters lay buried under ichor and popped egg sacs. Were they alive, there'd be no space on the walls for them all to climb out. She looked around at the side of the pit. Three other sisters. The newborn who fought with her still clung voraciously to the wing of their sister.
Another, bigger than the rest of them, was making the climb as well. The princess wondered if fighting was even a challenge for that sister. She easily dwarfed the newborn, and could most likely kill two sisters at the same time.
Finally, the four of them reached the top of the pit and pulled themselves up to their mother's legs. The princess looked up but nearly shrieked in horror at the scowling look the Queen cast. Though it wasn't at her. She followed her piercing green eyes to her smaller sister, the newborn.
Sounds rattled from the Queen's throat, vibrating the princess from her exoskeleton to her soft innards. She didn't understand every sound, but some memory of language from her egg-dreams was resurrected, just enough to understand the Queen's displeasure at the newborn.
She watched her mother hiss scalding words at her newborn sister. Smaller than the rest, she already looked weak. Cling bitterly to her sister's wing during the whole climb up was just more proof that she was unfit to join the hive. The Queen cast a glaring look back down into the pit.
Every word she said rattled inside all their minds. Why shouldn't she just throw the newborn back down the pit?
All four sisters cast their eyes back down to their birthplace. The climb they made was farther than they thought. A fall back to the bottom would kill any of them, even the biggest sister.
Unhesitating, the newborn proved her determination to live. Savagery was the way of the hive. They now knew it not from just their egg-dreams, but their own living experiences. The newborn sank her fangs into her sister's already torn wing, biting closer to the joint until she had a strong enough grip.
The hive echoed with the hissing of their sister's pain as the newborn tore the broken wing clean off and spat it back down into the pit.
The princess looked at the two sisters, and then their mother the Queen. That familiar scent of pride returned, but none of them relaxed a muscle.
The Queen stepped back, giving space between the four princesses and their hive of drones.
They didn't know all the words she said, but they understood the meaning. She presented them to her hive, declaring all four as true princesses, and deserving of a naming ceremony. Crude chattering came from the drones. Their words, the sisters could understand.
"The rightful ones! The rightful ones!" The drones rejoiced together, eager to welcome four more leaders into their lives. One by one the drones flew to meet them.
Only then did the princess realize how many were truly watching them. Drones pulled themselves from every nook and crack along the cavern walls, their black, chitinous bodies barely shimmering in the hive's dim lights. The darkness, she realized, was not the lack of light.
No, her dreams told her that the hive was always light enough to see, though just barely, thanks to the glowing fungi that grew on the walls. This darkness, this pitch blankness that left sound and smell as the only reliable senses, was the hive. Every drone covering every inch of fungi and stone.
They descended upon the sisters, carrying them off to a new chamber, where'd they be named and raised, and finally, taught to lead by their mother. Such was what happened for the princesses before them. In the grasp of the hive, each princess hatchling finally relaxed. Whatever would follow, the hive would keep them safe. She closed her eyes and had her first dream outside the egg.
The naming ceremony was simple. Though the drones, and more so the Queen, expected much from their new princesses, they still did not know many words.
So they were laid out into four equally spaced places on a circle facing each other. Their ingrained mental maps told them that this was the heart of the hive. This was where hunters returned with their bounties, and it was the only place where every other part of the hive was connected.
The storage caverns, the birthing rooms for the other drones, even the exits to the world outside the hive, the four sisters could sense it all by ear and nose. And one day it would all be theirs.
The Queen looked down at her daughter, the newborn. She raised her horn and bathed the young changeling in a green magical aura, changing something about her. Her scent was different, and through reflex, the other sisters bristled with irritation at their sister becoming a threat.
It was magic. Their first taste of magic, personally fed and stored by the Queen into their fresh, unfamiliar vessels. She domineered over her daughter and grinned. She was proud of her daughter's fierce determination, that much they could tell from her words.
"I name you Tenacity," their mother said.
And the drones repeated in unison, "Tenacity." Her name rung into the very stone of the hive.
Then it was the newborn's adversary, the one-winged sister. The Queen's wolfish grin did not go unnoticed, and her words revealed the thoughts behind it. Her daughter had proven herself, but losing her wing was a weakness she would have to carry with her forever.
"I name you Halfwing," the Queen declared and bathed her in magic. Again, the drones repeated her name.
Their biggest sister sat proudly before the Queen, boasting her size and strength for their mother to admire. She smiled down to her strongest daughter.
"You are Majesta," she simply told her. Even to the sisters, their fresh minds understood. The name was formed from another word, and it displayed her majestic glory for all the world to see. She drew in her mother's magic like it was her birthright, relishing the spark of power.
Finally, the Queen set her eyes to her fourth daughter. As she described the last princess, her small heart sank. She was not as big as Majesta and hadn't had the chance to show exceptional ferocity like Tenacity.
"You're just plain across the spectrum, aren't you?" her mother laughed. Then, she tilted her head in thought. "Perhaps having a bit of everything could become your strongest trait." The Queen winked, laughing again at her own imagination of what her daughter could accomplish.
"Fine, I'll name you Spectra," she boomed. And as the final name, the hive boomed louder, planting the echo of her name into the black stone walls like a farmer planting seeds in a field. She raised her horn and cast her green magic over Spectra.
The magic immediately sought out her body, filling her with power she only knew of from her egg-dreams. But this was different, it was real. The magic shot through her body, jolting every muscle and sharpening senses that were already honed after millennia of evolution. Spectra realized that this was the power her kind felt whenever they fed on magic, and she couldn't wait for when she would feed on her own prey.
The Queen now turned to the rest of the hive. "I am Queen Chrysalis, daughter of the last Chrysalis and grand-daughter of the Chrysalis before her. From this day on you serve my daughters, second only to me. Now fly, fly and serve the glory of the hive!"
The caverns hummed in an uproar, filled with the sound of drones taking off to resume their duties to the hive, working harder than ever for their new princesses. Over half of the dark silhouettes headed down the widest tunnel, the exit shaft to the outside world. Others flew themselves to the storage caverns, preparing the caverns for all the food the hive would need.
Spectra could smell other hatching grounds. Another tunnel leading deeper into the earth was one of the biggest, after the exit tunnel of course. She could smell egg sac fluid of newborn hunter-drones. A narrower tunnel opened beside its neighbour, leading to worker-drone caverns.
Her egg-dreams told her that the workers were the most numerous, and had the largest caverns, but their eggs usually lay dormant for months. Down there thousands of eggs waited so a few could be called on to replace dead workers. The massive reserve ensured the hive would never lack a stable labour force.
Tenacity crept up beside her, looking at the tunnels with the same wonder in her eyes. Spectra looked at her sister, muscles still ready to twitch from the pit, but one look from her sister's eyes calmed her. Tenacity knew she was the one who tackled Halfwing out of the way. And that was enough.
"Your Highnesses," announced a drone from one of the many shafts. All four sisters turned to the hunter-drone. He stepped out from the path that led back down to their brood cavern, followed by a host of worker drones carrying the deformed, lifeless husks of their eggs sacs.
More and more came, and Spectra realized that it was the salvaged remains of all the eggs, even those of their dead sisters.
Instinctively her stomach rumbled, and she rushed for the eggs as soon as it was set in the middle of the cavern floor. Her sisters all apparently felt the exact same urge, as they all burst for the nutrient-rich fluids remaining inside the eggs.
First, they ate plenty, drinking up the slimy albumen that surrounded their growing yolks in protein. The workers were clumsy, simple-minded Changelings, and piled the eggs together for the princesses. Spectra snapped her jaw at remaining egg sac and dragged it out from under the pile.
Though it was half full, that was more than what most of the other eggs had. She stuck her head into the hole where her sister had been torn out and sucked on the egg fluid. She gorged herself her senses were almost drowned out. Almost.
Halfwing's remaining wing fluttered and bristled in irritation, its unique sound betraying her attempt at a surprise attack. Spectra pulled herself out of the egg just in time to react to Halfwing's fangs. She dropped under her sister and with two powerful hind legs bucked her against the cavern wall.
Normally any violence against a princess would send a swarm against the aggressor, but both princesses knew that the drones would not interfere with a fight between sisters.
Halfwing cracked her back, slowly realigning her chitin layers back in place. Her eyes glared at Spectra and her egg, but she didn't challenge her again, instead of returning to the rest of the egg pile to collect her own fill of albumen. Spectra turned back to her egg to see Tenacity had dragged her own egg nearer to hers.
She smiled at Spectra, happy to see the sister who tried to kill her at birth was now running, wings folded. Spectra effused a snort of amusement before returning to her egg, content to lick the nutritious fluid from the leathery inner barrier of the egg sac.
In time, the egg sacs were not enough. The first few days the sisters gorged themselves. After a week they were still content with the remains stuck to the shells' insides. But after two months, they gnawed on dried, leathery sacs to pass the time.
The hunters-drones always brought back amazing things. They hunted not only food but trinkets from encounters with the other races.
The four sisters clustered around the Queen, who awaited the return of her hunter-drones alongside her daughters. Seeing this, the leader of the hunting pack dropped to the ground and knelt before his Queen.
"We didn't expect you today, Queen Chrysalis." The hunter-drone said. The princesses were getting better at words now, their egg-dreams reinforced by the constant chattering around them from the drones.
"Just leave the haul here, captain." She rolled her eyes at the display of submission, even though she relished the power. "I have lessons for my daughters."
The hunter-drone nodded, then barked an order to his pack in a brutish hiss. They all landed, quickly leaving everything they had hunted, before rushing down to the hunter caverns to retire for the day.
Filled with curiosity, Spectra and her sisters grabbed at the first thing they saw. Tenacity dragged with her a crude cage made of sticks and straw, with a small bird trapped inside and terrified. Majesta wasted no time with her trinket, crushing the head of a snake and draping it around her neck, like a pony scarf that their mother once mentioned.
Halfwing bit greedily at a rare thing in the hunter's haul: a metal lock box, barely big enough to fit two rats. Ponies didn't often make things like that out of metal. Very few of their kind can shape metal with magic, and using heat is impossible when the hunting ground has no unicorn.
Spectra remembered their mother's lessons as she dug her head through the pile of animal carcasses and pony trinkets. She finally found something that caught her eye more than the food. A thin metal band, made from an expensive and flexible metal ponies rarely used.
"That's a pony bracelet," the Queen told her. She tilted her head and hinted at one that Spectra already had. "How does it compare?"
Spectra looked at her foreleg. Chewing at her egg sac's leather eventually caused a strip of the shell to tear off. Days ago, she decided to do something with it to pass the time, eventually weaving the leathery strip into a circular band that stuck on the rough edges of her chitin.
It wrapped around tightly and refused to let go, a reminder that she was a survivor out of sixteen. The metal pony bracelet just seemed empty and meaningless in comparison.
"It's just pony junk," she answered her mother's inquiry.
The Queen's eyes gleamed. "But they still love it all, don't they? Or else they wouldn't put so much effort into making it."
"Because ponies are dumb," Halfwing retorted.
Their mother growled. "Your Queen is teaching, do not interrupt!" Halfwing retracted herself at the sudden burst from her mother but continued to listen.
"When you're disguised as a pony, hunting for the hive," she explained to them, "you will see how ponies value their trinkets. They put a lot of value into pretty things, and so there are many ways you can play with their emotions just by giving or taking some petty gifts."
She rose, signalling that the lesson was over, and left them to their own interests. The princesses only briefly watched with curiosity as their mother flew up to the top of the hive, where her throne room was. But they didn't watch for long, suspicious that another sister would take something they wanted to play with, eat, or both.
Spectra tossed the bracelet aside and dug through her side of the pile, sniffing out some creature to snack on. Amidst the junk, she found a cat. Its legs were broken, likely in a useless attempt at fighting the hunter-drones, however, its emotions were still rich.
She dragged it out from under the pile of pony junk, drawing the gaze of the rest of her sisters. They didn't move toward her, even if they were mesmerized by the scent of the cat's emotions.
There was a basic fear of death, reinforced by its injured legs, but that was just an appetizer. Spectra sniffed the cat, which made no sound in return as it was still reeling from shock. Along with fear were deeper emotions of confusion, even anger at the hunter-drones. But most intoxicating of all was love.
In its scent, she could infer what had happened to it. The cat had been a pet, and most likely trusted the form that hunter-drone used to approach it. Now it realized it had been betrayed, and longed for the comfort and safety of its real owner and its home.
Spectra widened her jaw, taking in the scent of the emotions, almost tasting it in the air. Magic was attracted to, and controlled by, powerful emotions. It was her instinct to feed on the magic, empowering herself until the prey was a barely living husk. But as she tasted the emotions in the air, no magic came.
She didn't understand. She saw it countless times in her egg-dreams. She knew what it would feel like when she tasted magic for the first time. But the disappointment taught her to know her place. She was still a young princess, incapable of things she already understood.
She looked at her sisters, and they too realized that they wouldn't be able to feed directly on magic either. They were too young, and for now, they were relegated to drawing magic off of the flesh they ate.
Spectra sighed and closed her jaw over the cat's neck. It mewed weakly, but only for a second, before going limp. The emotions instantly left its body, dissipating the magic with it. Spectra felt this and then tore rabidly into the cat's abdomen, swallowing chunks of blood and muscle, eating as much as she could before all the magic left its body.
Her sisters did the same with their meals. They grabbed fresh animals who hid below the pile of pony junk, killing them quickly and sinking their fangs into the flesh. Majesta even tossed aside her long dead snake, throwing it at Tenacity to slow her down and keep her from grabbing the fatter rabbits who were now panicking in the junk pile.
Spectra licked her lips. A half-eaten corpse of the cat remained, but there was no use in continuing. She tasted the blood on her mouth, savouring the last strands of magic within it before it became completely empty.
Then she returned to the pile. While her sisters tore at their kills, she spotted another chicken stuffing itself in the back of a crooked pony-made cage. The poor thing exuded fear, strengthened by having no path of escape. Spectra figured she would be generous, and give the animal the escape it wanted.
There is life in everything. You will learn to conquer it to suit your needs. The Queen's lessons rung in Spectra's mind as she stalked the hive with Tenacity. Even the glowing lichen on the hive walls was alive and served their eyes by providing enough light to see.
They rarely left the heart of the hive. Why would they? Hunter-drones brought food for them, and worker-drones were always cleaning after them.
But today was a day to test their limits. The hunter-drones were late with their haul from the outside world, and the sisters wanted to know why.
"Do you think hunting outside is as hard as they say?" Tenacity wondered. "We should ask Mother to let us hunt with the drones."
"The Queen will say no," Spectra replied. "Did you already forget about Halfwing?"
Her sister shook her head. The last time the hunter-drones sent a pack to hunt, their sister asked to lead. Apparently, she believed her egg-dreams were enough experience to lead the drones better than the captain. Their mother responded by pulling on her one good wing, hissing threats about how she would die within the hour she left the safety of the hive.
It was a harsh reminder that they lived at their mother's will.
"Halfwing doesn't think, she just wants to fight anything she can get her fangs into," Tenacity remarked. Spectra had to stifle a laugh. Her smaller sister didn't seem much different.
The tunnel to the hunter-drone cavern was like a maze. Paths broke off and twisted back, some leading to dead-ends and others leading back to the entrance. Stalagmites and stalactites gave the tunnel its own fangs, with small glowing fungi sprouting from the moist cracks in the stone.
Any intruder would never find their way to the hunter-drone's cavern. A perfect defence for the hive's fighting forces. Lucky for Spectra and Tenacity, the two of them remembered their egg-dreams vividly.
As the two sisters clamoured through the narrow gaps between rocks, they found chitinous shreds on the ground, left behind by clumsy drone hatchlings who tried their way through the maze. Any Changeling who wasn't a princess had to learn the maze the hard way.
The hunter-drone cavern was the darkest part of the hive. Spectra and her sister blinked for a moment, their eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. What little magic they had was still strong enough to sharpen their eyes, but even magic couldn't make eyes see light that wasn't there.
They entered, and Spectra's other senses reached out around the cavern. From the centre of the hive, she could only guess what went on in the hunter-drones' nests, but now she had full reign of the place. Small caves were burrowed into sporadically spaced out along the cavern walls.
Each was big enough for only one drone, but Spectra could still smell the warming scent of egg albumen along the cavern walls. Like the princesses, eggs were crammed into each cave, forcing the newborn drones to fight for the right to live. The only way for drones to get a cave for themselves was to kill off the ones they were born with.
In the pitch black cavern, primitive hissing came from the youngest hunter-drones. They were born around the same time as the princesses and would be the generation to follow them into maturity. Instinct drove the young drones to bow and grovel on the cavern ground, prostrating themselves before their rightful rulers.
But their older brothers did not have the same fealty. One hunter-drone, bulkier than all the rest, approached the princesses with a glare in his eyes. Dim lichen light glistened off his eyes as he greeted them with a rough grunt.
"The last pack to leave is still out there," Tenacity said first. She stepped ahead of Spectra, who carefully watched as other hunter-drones inched toward them. "Send out more to bring food for the hive."
The drone bristled, rattling the plates on his back. They didn't look like they were a part of him, and quickly Spectra realized they were armour plates. The drone was no bigger than his other brothers, the armour simply made him bulkier.
However, the truth made him no less intimidating. The armour he wore was made from the chitinous carapaces of the brothers he had defeated. Some were small plates, likely trophies from the brothers he killed when they hatched. Others were much larger; he had challenged them for dominance, and now wore their exoskeleton as proof of his strength.
"The Queen made me a captain," he gibed. "I may have to make sure you're alive, but I don't take orders from you."
Tenacity flashed a scowl, then twisted her head to the younger hunter-drones who were spying the encounter from the edges of the cavern.
"Take your brothers out to hunt," she growled. This time the young drones could not resist the command from a princess of their generation. The strongest of them tentatively nodded and took flight for the mouth of the cavern.
In a burst of power, their captain lashed out his horn, knocking the younger drone from the sky. He sank his fangs into the back of the younger's neck, careful not to inflict lethal damage, but still making sure it hurt. He twisted his head and flung the younger drone back into the cavern.
Spectra bristled her wings now. While her sister stood her ground against the captain, the other elder drones had formed an arch around them, shutting them out of the cave. Still, she stepped forward, supporting her sister's challenge to the hunter-drone captain.
"What will we eat, then?" she asked the captain. "Do you want all four princesses down here, demanding food?"
The captain snorted, and laughter echoed from the other hunter-drones at his side. "Princess Halfwing would sooner kill Princess Tenacity than work with her. If you want to eat, hunt like a real Changeling."
The two sisters flexed their wings, showing their irritation at the captain's goading. He was their brother and drone, and they were his princesses. He dared to speak to them like that? But when he didn't move a muscle at their display, Spectra realized something was wrong.
Tenacity wouldn't give up so easily, but it was clear their mother was the chief authority here. Their drone brothers fought brutally to earn the confidence of the Queen. Even if the sisters were born to be rulers, the hive couldn't grow on birthright alone.
The hunter drones blocking them out were older, stronger, and more experienced. Their hunting grounds expanded beyond the hive, where they could drain pure magic from ponies. As it stood, the two of them were hungry, and still, they hadn't had their first taste of raw magic.
"Tena," Spectra said bitterly. "Let's go see where Majesta went. She must have some food stashed away."
Tenacity shot a look of surprise at her sister, stubbornly planting her legs where she stood. But, as she looked at her sister, her gaze shifted to see the two dozen drones standing against them, blocking them from going deeper into the cave.
"Fine," she turned, flying back with Spectra through the tunnel they came.
Once out of earshot of the hunter-drones, Spectra let go a breath she didn't know she was holding. She thought the pit they were born in was the trial that determined their destiny to rule. But that destiny came with conditions. Before they were destined for greatness, they'd be destined to face hardships.
Spectra sniffed around the heart of the hive, tracking her sisters' scent. Halfwing did little to cover her trail. It was obvious she was somewhere among the worker-drones, likely trying to exploit their weaker wills to get one of them to give up their food.
But Majesta was another story. She was the biggest of them all, and always bullied her way to the fattest animals that the hunter-drones brought in. Yet, any dream of outsmarting her brute strength washed away as Spectra tried to pick out her scent.
It looped in and out of tunnels, crossing with the smells of drones and the pests that scurried around the hive. Any path that smelled like it could be Majesta also had a chance of just being a worker-drone carving out a new tunnel, or a snail chewing at a patch of fungi.
"Any luck?" Tenacity flew down from an overhanging shelf that overlooked the rest of the cavern. "She definitely lost me."
"She has food," Spectra growled. "Why else would she cover her tracks?"
"Maybe Halfwing's looking for a fight again," Tenacity answered. They both laughed at the idea that their larger sister would bother hiding from the crippled one.
"No use scrambling around the entire hive," Spectra added. She looked at the centre of the cavern, where their meals were always placed. Scraps of half eaten rabbits, boars, and even a bull, were scattered on the stone floor. They were all ravenous eaters, and by the time they found Majesta, all her food would likely be gone.
Tenacity huffed. "Could bother Halfwing again, but it's no fun anymore."
Spectra looked again at the cavern. She smelled the ground, picking apart the scent of the corpses until she found something still alive. A rat had passed by and picked at the remaining meat. She turned her head and chased the scent until her nose struck a crack in the wall.
Her sister chuckled, recognizing what she was thinking of. "If it were that easy I wouldn't be hunting down Majesta with you."
"Laugh all you want, Tena," Spectra snarled. "But I think I know why her scent's covered up so much. She's not hiding from us. She's baiting the prey that's already in the hive."
Tenacity's face twisted and she turned her nose up. "The pests in here are barely worth anything. There's hardly a shred of emotion in them."
It was true. Though any of the princesses could have smelled out the rats, their fear and joy were basic, driven by instinct. Having barely any magic inside them, they tasted as good alive as they did dead.
Still, they were growing princesses, and magic wouldn't be able to make a body out of nothing. Magical or not, they needed something to eat.
"You heard the hunter-drones," Spectra jeered at her sister's stubbornness. "Find your own food. If you think tracking our sister is easier than hunting a rat, then go ahead."
She stepped over the pile of discard flesh and picked out a relatively fresh chicken leg as bait. Tenacity may have been her closest sister, but Spectra wasn't going to waste effort convincing her to help. She didn't need a partner to set a trap for a simple-minded rodent, and without Tenacity looming at her side, it meant there wouldn't be a need to share.
As hard as it was to admit, the first few hunts turned out difficult. Spectra quickly realized not to sneer at the instincts of lesser animals. The rats were a lot like her sister Tenacity. Small, quick, and vicious, the first time she tried to catch a rat that was drawn to her bait scratched her nose and absconded with the chicken leg.
The hunts after that were no more successful. She tried every trick her young mind could formulate. She found that the rats too had a sensitive nose, but if she smeared herself with the remains from the carcass pile, the rats wouldn't sense her hiding in a nearby nook.
But even if they crawled within pouncing range, their soft bodies were adept at scurrying up from under her hooves. Worse, if she tried to bite them and swallow them whole immediately, the rats would return bites of their own against her tongue.
Every failure, however, taught her more. If catching them wasn't possible, then she would have to strike them down. The first time she pounced with an intent to strike, her leg broke the neck of the rat, killing it instantly. Whatever magic was in it left just as quick.
As simple as the rodents were, they were alive, and thus had at least some magic within them. If she wanted to gain strength, she needed the rats alive when she ate them.
Her hunger ate away at her strength over the days, until she thought she would collapse and become a feast for the rats in an ironic twist. But her weakened state turned out to be a blessing. Her hits were softer, and slowly, she learned how much force a rat could take before it died.
It took a week, but in her hooves was a rat, still breathing and lying still. She wanted to have some pride in her perseverance, but a primal egg-dream spurred her instincts, telling her to feast. She lifted the simple creature up and opened her jaw, sliding its slender, hairy body down her throat until it hit her stomach.
Her body reacted, pulling apart the traces of magic inside the rat, while the rest of its body slowly digested. Spectra thought she would be satisfied, but having just a taste seemed only to sharpen her hunger more.
But the meal did other things to her as well. The rush of the kill heightened her senses once again, connecting her ears and nose to the hive's sounds and smells, piercing through the dim fungi. She almost didn't notice the Changeling creeping into the tunnel she chose to hunt in.
She turned to jump out of the way, but her sister was faster. The size and power were unmistakable. It was her sister Majesta, slamming her frailer body up against a stalagmite.
"You?" she hesitated, pulling away. "I thought you were Halfwing."
"You thought I was the cripple?" Spectra shook off the throbbing pain in her back. "That hurts more than the attack did."
Majesta dusted herself off. "You shouldn't mock our sister. Mother says Halfwing will kill you and Tenacity if you don't keep your guard up."
"She'd never let that happen," Spectra denied, but a warning in the back of mind, perhaps instinct or just simple logic, knew that wouldn't always be the case.
Her sister sneered, raising her head in a domineering fashion. "Oh, I'm sure there'd be punishments if our sister pulled it off somehow, but the reality wouldn't change; you'd be dead, and she wouldn't."
Spectra lowered her head at the truth. The hive was bigger than they imagined, even from their dreams, but staying out of each other's way didn't guarantee safety. Sooner or later they'd meet, and it just now dawned on her that she truly didn't have an idea of how strong her crippled sister had grown. If Majesta was cautious about her...
Her sister sniffed the air, casting her enhanced glare down the tunnel. The tunnel was partially dug by worker-drones, and partially a natural underground cave system. Flow-stones, sloped terrain formed by millennia of minerals calcifying along the cave walls, pinched off the passage to the deepest cavern of the hive, where livestock was kept locked up for the Queen to feed on.
"Plenty of food down there, if you're willing to squeeze through," Majesta said, pointing her horn down the tunnel.
Spectra's eyes widened. "You must think I'm as dumb as the drones." Not only was the path to the Queen's Reservoir long and tiresome, but dream-memories also screamed warnings of death if she even attempted to make the journey.
Her sister smirked. "No, I think you're smarter than you let on. But this is my rat tunnel now."
The last words turned from a distant voice to a low but soft growl. The sound was like mother's disapproval, but she was her sister, not the Queen. If she wanted to regain her strength, she'd need to hunt more rats, and this was the best spot. Her larger sister frightened her, lifting her head high to seem even bigger. But the taunt exposed a little too much.
Spectra lunged at her sister's neck, thrashing at the chitin protecting precious veins. Majesta was thrown back by the sudden attack but recovered quickly. She let her size bear the brunt of the attack while she forced horn down, aiming it back.
Spectra was prepared to clash horns, but what came next rattled both her body and mind. A burst of green magic shot through her sister's horn and toppled her to the ground.
She flung her limbs in defence but realized immediately that her sister did not press the advantage. She regained her footing, standing up to see that the burst of magic drained more from her sister than anticipated.
Not wanting Majesta to get a second wind, she thrust her horn at her chest and face. The attacks didn't worry her sister, whose composure was calm as her hooves batted away every strike, but she was on the defensive now.
Eventually, she jumped back beyond Spectra's reach, spreading her wings and taking off out of the tunnel before she gave chase.
Spectra stood confidently as her sister's scent slowly flew from the tunnel. Two lessons were clear after their skirmish. First, Majesta was like any of them, a princess but still young and vulnerable when she stepped beyond her limits. Second, if there was another fight between them, she would not win.
Spectra fluttered her wings open and took to a shelf along the top of the tunnel, resuming her hunt. Majesta would take defeat and learn from it. If she wanted to keep their mother's favour, she knew she needed to match her sister blow for blow. Such a feat would not be possible if she remained as hungry as she was now.
Spectra covered herself in glowing fungus and masked her scent with the last of her bait. But she wasn't waiting for any plain rat to pass.
In the passing days, her schedule had become regular. She usually tried to catch one or two rats immediately after waking up from her rest.
A few hours later, before hunger truly set in, she'd check the many patches of glowing fungi. Insects adored the stale taste of the lichen that sprouted around the hive, and where the insects ate, there was often a lizard or two eating its fill. Spectra only ever took one for herself, cautious not to over hunt the lichen patches.
Then she tucked herself away to watch the comings and goings of the hunter-drones, hiding tightly in the glowing fungus, settling in with the scent of the rat offal she hid at the back of the fungal patch. Now that the princesses were beginning to prove themselves as hunters, the packs freely entered and left the hive. But they still didn't leave fresh catches for them.
She had to thank her sister Tenacity for noticing the hunter-drones. If not for her, she would have kept to her rat tunnel, foolishly content with mindless rodents. Tenacity took note that the younger drones were always clumsy with their catches.
Usually, alive, their prey had a habit of squirming out of their grasps. Every so often, a drone would be too distracted to even notice that their catch had escaped, and with enough patience, it would be no effort at all to claim the hunter-drones' haul for themselves.
Deeper into the tunnel Tenacity was most likely doing exactly the same as Spectra. They agreed to stay out of each other's way, so they didn't have to worry about fighting over the same scraps. But, she couldn't help wondering for a moment if she really was there. It had been days since she last spotted her sister.
Spectra let her mind wander into memory-dreams while she waited for drones to pass by. She imagined herself older, hunting in the outside world for fresh meat for the hive. Then her mind was in a cave of her own, establishing her own nest of Changelings.
The memory changed again, forming into a raid on a pony village, but she did not have the luxury of delving into it. Her nose sensed a procession of hunter-drones returning from their hunt. In their jaws she heard the squirming of animals; rabbits and chickens and a couple of large deer cried out in terror, their primitive minds slowly realizing what the Changelings would do to them.
"Attention!" shouted the hunter-drone at the head of the line. He turned and stopped his pack at the mouth of the tunnel, lining them up to present everything they had captured. Spectra wondered what they were doing. In a moment, she got her answer.
The Queen approached from above, flying down from her throne room to inspect the hunter-drones, and likely take some of their prey for herself.
"Not a single pony today, captain?" she puzzled as she inspected their ranks. Spectra felt her mouth moisten, the fear of the youngest hunter-drones adding to the scent of the prey.
He bleated at the question. "Insurgents haven't cemented their place yet, your Highness." His eyes looked away from the Queen in fear, but Spectra could smell more complexities to his emotions. It was clearly a sore point for him, that his pack continually failed to bring in a worthy haul. His body swarmed with the smells of anger and shame.
"Look at you," the Queen mocked. "I've lost my appetite. Continue this, and the next thing lost will be your rank as captain."
Spectra sensed a slight shiver of pleasure through the other hunter-drones that stood by him. They all wore armour similar to the captain, made from the chitin of their weaker brothers. All the captain's lieutenants were as vicious as their leader, and all wanted to take his place the moment he lost the confidence of the Queen.
"You can give my share of the meat to my daughter," the Queen said. And then Spectra froze. Could her mother have really sensed her? She didn't even smell herself through all the rat offal she used. The Queen turned and looked directly at her as if her eyes could peel away the patch of lichen she hid under. She was definitely meant Spectra.
"Don't be surprised, my Spectra. Come on out." She extended her leg invitingly.
She didn't want to reveal herself, but refusing her mother would be even worse than if she didn't. Slowly, she wriggled her legs and wings out from under the lichen that had begun to stick to her chitin and pulled herself out of the glowing patch.
The drones stood silently, though the perplexed looks of the youngest hunter-drones said enough. It was a small comfort that her hiding spot wasn't completely useless.
The Queen turned to one of the drones carrying a now exhausted chicken and tore it from its hooves. "Go back to your cavern and find some way to make yourselves useful," she snapped at them after dropping the chicken at Spectra's hooves, who pinned it down before it could rise and escape.
Without hesitation, the hunter-drones flapped their wings in a fury and shot down the maze-like tunnel, letting muscle memory turn the act of navigating the obstacles into second nature.
Once the drones had left, Spectra turned to her mother. "How did you know?"
"As leaders of the hive, we cannot simply hide the way drones do," she said. "To the senses everything else around us, we must not even exist."
Her mother pointed to the patch of lichen. "By scent, there's no way to know it was you. But what business does a rat have doing in a lichen patch at the mouth of the hunter-drone tunnel?"
Spectra didn't understand. Rats and lizards roamed everywhere in the cave, hiding themselves away in small cracks in the walls where Changelings wouldn't bother them.
"They may be everywhere, but they know to avoid hunter-drones," she said, almost as if she could read her daughter's mind. "You put a scent in a place where it didn't belong, and the only thing in the hive who would do that is a young little princess."
"But, you knew me by name," Spectra puzzled.
"That was easy," her mother winked mischievously. "Your other sisters have been trying the same, but they were all caught before you were. By now they would have chosen different methods."
She looked down at the chicken she had taken from the drone. "Think of that as your reward."
Spectra looked down at the chicken, and a scent tickled her nose that she hadn't felt in a long time. The scent of pride, the same scent as when she first conquered her sisters in their birthing pit. But her mother didn't have time to pamper her daughter. Without a tithe from the hunter-drones, she'd need to leave the hive to track down her own meal.
Still, even after she left, the scent lingered. Spectra realized it wasn't her mother's pride, but her own. Pride in accomplishment, in finding one thing that she was best at.
Majesta was capable and calculating, Halfwing and Tenacity were equally ferocious and vengeful. She would have to hone her skills in deception until she met her mother's expectation and could vanish from her prey's reality.
Spectra felt anticipation electrifying her sisters as they marched for the surface. They were all excited for their first real hunt. At their backs, four packs of hunter-drones, each led by a captain and his lieutenants. They'd all have a pack to lead, though their mother made it clear that it would be the captains that chose their hunting grounds.
For two months they lived in the hive, a system of dimly lit tunnels where only small creatures of little note scurried along the caverns. Spectra touched her leg, feeling the leathery strip of egg sac she had tied around it. It felt like a world ago when she burst from her egg, fighting for dominance over her sisters.
Despite the hunter-drones refusing to pamper the princesses anymore, they grew. Even her sister Tenacity, who had always been the smallest of the surviving four princesses, was no threat to be ignored. They may have shared a closer bond, having both fought their crippled sister Halfwing in their birthing pit, but nevertheless, Spectra kept a wary eye out.
Majesta, on the other hoof, hardly needed looking after. Her presence was overwhelming, and she quickly learned how to lead and dominate others from their mother's lessons. Being the largest of the sisters, the drones naturally respected her the most, and now the pack marching behind her was the largest of the four.
In the depths of the hive where no sunlight entered, every Changeling was born with wide, black pupils that soaked in what little light came from the patches of glowing lichen. But the outside world will be brighter than you could ever imagine. They were not eyes fit for the brightness of the sun.
Spectra had to suppress the magic rising to her horn as she shifted her eyes. She learned the hard way from fighting Majesta that they could jettison all their hard-earned magic in a sudden loss of control. The change was still difficult at her age, however. Redundant cells were destroyed and her lenses were reshaped, all to reduce the sensitivity of her sight.
Nevertheless, the tunnel to the surface didn't seem to grow any darker as they marched. Halfway up, they were much closer to the surface and passed new creatures Spectra was never told about. There were insects that glowed like the lichen they fed on, and some species of lizard that moved around with no legs.
Lichen became plentiful as they neared the mouth of the hive, growing over the corpses of unfortunate animals that fell in, brightening the passageway. Though sunlight still couldn't penetrate this deep into the earth, life found a way in.
"I can't wait to take in the smells," Tenacity chattered, unable to contain her excitement. She didn't seem all that small now with her wings fully spread, ready to take off.
Halfwing chortled at her. "Will you be so happy when I out-hunt you?"
Tenacity bumped her sister aside. "And how will you do that, One-wing? You can't fly."
The jab at her injury was almost too much to bear. Spectra could smell the adrenaline in her ichor. Anger and shame swirled around her; Halfwing would have lashed out and attacked that instant if they all hadn't been so eager to stalk their hunting grounds.
"Both of you be silent," Majesta snapped. "If you two slow me down don't expect me to wait."
"We're to escort you four to the surface," said one of the captains. "We're almost there, so refrain from tearing each other apart until then."
The hunter-drone's words calmed them. Spectra's readjusted eyes would be useless in a sunless cavern, even one filled with glowing lichen patches. She was lucky that it didn't stay that way. Dim sunlight reflecting off cave walls trickled down, gradually growing brighter as they approached the mouth of the cave.
What was once black stone walls turned grey, and eventually, Spectra could make out the limestone layers that formed patterns throughout the cave. Pillars of residue that joined the cave ceiling to its floor became more prominent as the surface's moisture eroded and moved the cave minerals around.
The stalagmite and stalactite fangs of the hunter-drone tunnel were unimpressive and minuscule compared to these structures. And suddenly, in the midst of her fascination with the changing tunnel, columns of sunlight rained down from a gaping mass ahead of them.
All four princesses froze in their tracks, sensing the mix of emotions within each other. The green of the plants that grew at the mouth, sprawling their way into the darkness was intoxicating to their eyes. The sound and smell of fresh water that spilt down from above and became mist inside the cave filled their ears and noses with reverence.
The beauty was liberating, breathtaking, but also terrifying and intimidating. They were creatures born in darkness and taken to savagery. What did this outside world have for the likes of them?
Yet their awe was muddled with other emotions: envy and hatred. Envy for their lesser drones, who hunted in the daylight, sometimes for weeks without returning. Envy for the ponies who built villages on the surface, reaping its bounties while they struggled in the underworld. And hatred for their mother, who held them down for so long, teaching them about their prey and their enemies, but never once mentioning its enrapturing glory.
Together they hissed and spat at the sunlight and the surface world, all bristling their wings. Why shouldn't they take it for themselves? They were princesses of the hive, and the surface was their rightful hunting ground.
The hunter-drones responded the same, sending a storm of buzzing echoes down the tunnel they had marched through. The sisters sprinted now for the surface, their wings becoming blurs as they took flight for the sunlight. Even Halfwing, who hissed at a young hunter-drone to lift her up, shot after her sisters in fervour for the outer world. They would not be denied their beautiful hunting grounds.
The captain flew ahead of the rest of the pack, leading Spectra to the hunting spot the Queen had assigned them. She was frustrated that a hunter-drone was acting as a caretaker for her, telling her where to hunt and what parts of the surface wilderness to enjoy, but she followed diligently. The Queen was not the generous type, so for this hunter-drone to have become a captain meant he had experiences worth learning from.
"Surface trees have many branches that get in the way," he shouted back as they entered a thicker part of the forest. He flew lower, ducking under the web vines and broad leaves that blocked their path.
"How can we see our prey from down here?" Spectra challenged as she followed his lead. "Would we not have a better view from above?" The captain laughed, his amusement at her ignorance grating the back of her mind as she waited for the answer.
After a moment, he decided to share. "Dragons. We're not the only hunters that pony villages attract."
There was little information about dragons in her egg-dreams. As she understood, however, dragons were like overgrown lizards, and they foolishly hunted alone.
"The pack can't handle a single dragon?" she asked.
He laughed at her again, but this time quickly gave an unnerving warning. "Perhaps a young one, your highness, but I don't think even the hive can handle a single adult dragon."
They flew a little further, passing over long streams of water that trickled down from mountains in the distance. The smell of the water was crisp and cooled the air. Every creek they passed made her want to stop and bathe in its presence.
The water came from glacial mountaintops, according to her egg-dreams. But since leaving the hive for only a few hours, she was tired of calling on distant ancestral memories. She wanted to fly everywhere, to taste the freezing snow for herself and really know what it was like.
Her desired boiled until she could barely stand it. "Where are we even going, anyway?"
The captain cast a quick glance to the sky above. Not much was visible, save specks of the blue sky and thin shafts of sunlight.
"North," he answered while changing direction slightly. "Past the swamps, there's a wide river that forks into two. There lies a pony settlement. The region has gentle annual floods, making its soil fertile and perfect for growing the grains that their kind are fond of. And since they grow so much, they trade what they don't need on riverboats."
"And why should I care about what ponies do with their food?" Spectra replied, catching up so she flew by the captain's side.
"Because to infiltrate their city," the captain explained, "you'll be masquerading as one of the many travellers who seek out new opportunities."
The flight north across the swamps the captain mentioned was longer than Spectra would have imagined. Again she was astounded by how different the surface was from the hive. Unlike the confining walls below ground, she could fly from horizon to horizon and never see an end, never having to stop and turn around.
The only conciliation was the swamp's largely homogeneous terrain. For miles in all directions, Spectra sensed nothing but the odour of the massive toothy reptiles native to the region's waters. With nothing to dazzle her, save for the impressive monotony of the biome, she let herself get lost in thought, imagining how she'd savour the taste of pony magic.
"We're going make a stop at the nest in the forest ahead," the captain finally said, shaking Spectra from her thoughtless, bored state. She took a quick survey of the area.
The ecotone they were passing over was the barrier between the swamp to the south and the more temperate forested lands ahead of the pack. The water just a few meters below her hooves changed colour as it grew shallower, eventually giving way to drier and drier land.
Droning out the trip made it seem as if they had been flying for mere minutes, but given the position of the sun, she knew that was impossible. They had been travelling for the better part of the day, and her attention now finally shifted to the ache in her wings.
"I don't recall any nests from my egg-dreams," she told the captain as the forest came up in the distance.
He nodded. "Wouldn't expect so. The only Changelings who do end up being groundskeepers."
She looked at him, perplexed at who he meant by groundskeepers. Aside from her sisters, the only Changelings in the hive were worker and hunter-drones. Still, the look on his face was focused on the trees ahead, so she guessed the answer to her question was quickly approaching.
The trees this far north were nothing like those just outside the hive. Instead of broad-leafed trees that blanketed the land with green, these trees came in so many colours that Spectra recalled briefly an egg-dream of a rainbow. There were tall, dark greens with prickly leaves, surrounded by lighter barked trees sporting orange and yellow leaves.
They stayed low as they entered the forest, but even then, Spectra had a hard time keeping up with the captain. Low hanging branches stood in her way, forcing her to stop and change direction at any moment. Yet he seemed to bob through the obstacles with no effort at all, even using some larger branches as jumping-off points to turn at impossible angles.
Though the rest of the pack did not surpass her, Spectra knew, embarrassingly, that they were slowing themselves on purpose.
Eventually, however, the ordeal came to an end. The captain stopped short and dropped to the ground, just under a large orange-leafed tree with a nest built among its branches. Long narrow walkways linked the main nest-room to other smaller ones in the trees, forming something resembling a hive, except above ground.
"Ho! Who goes there?" shouted a voice from the nest above the captain. Spectra recognized it was a drone's voice, but the accent was nothing she had heard before.
"The hive has new princesses now, groundskeeper," the captain returned his reply. "We're to use this hunting ground for her first hunt."
A large, grey Changeling stuck his head from the nest, spreading leaves down onto the ground as if he had burst from a pile of them. "Is that so? Would it hurt to send a pack a few weeks in advance, even just to send some news?"
The captain opened his mouth but chose not to answer.
"Ha! Just pulling yer wing, captain," he said. The grey Changeling stuck his head back into the nest and for a moment they could all hear the rustling of leaves. After an exclamation that sounded vaguely positive, a rope burst from the nest and tumbled down.
"Bet the young drones have their wings achin' by now," he chuckled. "Climb on up."
The captain looked to his lieutenants, motioning them with his head to meet with the groundskeeper. They all sighed, but followed the command and barked at the other hunter-drones to climb up the rope.
Then the captain turned to Spectra. "It'll be a while before everything is sorted out here," he said. "In the meantime, I'll take you around to check on the nearby traps. They always have something to eat."
"But the pack-" Spectra started.
But the captain was already turning away from the nest. "As much as I like commanding my pack, the Queen personally chooses groundskeepers to maintain nests here on the surface. Assigning hunt-and-patrol schedules are his job, not mine."
Spectra looked back at the nest and then caught up with the captain before he trailed too far off. Everything about the surface was new, but now that the captain mentioned prey, her hunger pangs were the only thing she could think of. She had flown hard the entire day without so much as a single bite. It amazed her that she didn't drop dead back in the swamp.
The traps that were scattered through the forest were fairly simple, though Spectra wasn't surprised that it didn't take much to fool mindless animals. The captain bit at a small string sticking out from a flat pile of leaves, pulling it away to reveal a pit that was three times the height of a pony and three times the length across. At the bottom, the familiar scent of frightened deer.
"Once you find a pony, I'm certain you'll drain its magic like our kind was meant to," he said, looking down at the animal. "But for a creature with so little magic, you'll have to make do with eating it."
Spectra frowned. It was not the first meal she expected to have, even if the deer was better than almost everything she had eaten in the hive. The captain leaned his head out, looking down at the deer, and grabbed it with his magic. An intoxicating aura of power wrapped around his horn and the magic in the air around the deer energized, linking to his will.
Green magic lifted the deer impossibly; the creature was fully grown, but the captain moved it like it was a pebble her sisters kicked around the hive when they grew bored. Neither could the deer rise once it was put back down. The fall had twisted a joint in its back leg.
Just as always, instinct flourished when Spectra's hunger was teased by the scent of prey. This mammal still lacked the complex emotions of a pony, but it was far more developed than a rat and even bigger than Majesta, holding a lot more magic that clung to its primal fear.
Spectra drove, fangs bared, for its liver. Magic and life were tightly bound, so as long as the deer lived, its meat would be suffused with magic. The stabbing pain of her teeth tearing through its abdomen to reach the liver sent shock from head to hoof in the deer. The sudden mental arrest sucked more magic into the deer's flesh, becoming strongly sour on Spectra's tongue.
In her hunger not a single drop of blood touched the dirt; Spectra ate and drank it all ravenously, encouraged with her meal's bays and bleats of terror. As if daring it to make more noise, she reached a hoof into its body and tore out a section of half-chewed liver, presenting it to the deer. She widened her jaw and let the flesh slide down her throat, slimy with blood.
In the trees, small birds fled while they could and clever crows cawed to their comrades, waiting to pick off whatever was left behind. After a few minutes, the deer's body gave in to the stress, and in an instant, the tart emotion of fear and all its magic vanished from the meat.
Spectra fell back on herself, collapsing as her full belly lurched. She slumped onto the ground and stared up at the sky. In a small clearing of the leave above her, the night sky somehow even more beautiful than the day.
With no sun to blind the sky, each star in the sky was a bright contrast with the darkness around it. A long branch of what she could only call a star-cloud across the sky, arching from horizon to horizon. With no sun, the specks of light were highlighted by the true blackness of the heavens. Spectra wondered if one day she'd ever fly among the stars.
"Can you walk?" asked the captain after a long moment.
Spectra nodded and slowly supported herself with her own legs.
The captain relaxed and his wings folded back. "Good. I'm not about to become the one who had to tell her Queen her daughter was eaten by a Timberwolf because she gorged herself into unconsciousness."
She said nothing to reply to the captain's mockery, taking the lead back to the nest just to show she was still a princess, and not completely inept. But after a few minutes of silence, Spectra chose to ask the questions squirming in her mind.
"Tell me about the groundskeeper," she said. "Why don't I know anything about this drone?"
"I'm not surprised. Their connection to the hive is, in a word, strained," the captain explained. "It's rare to even find one at birth. Only one in every ten-thousand hunter-drones are born as groundskeepers, and out of them, very few survive the Queen's selection process."
"You said she chooses them to look after the nests," Spectra recalled as they passed an empty trap.
The captain nodded. "Their egg-dreams are mostly of the surface, and they're born with eyes better suited for sunlight. Once they're born, the Queen immediately takes them above ground and scatters them across the hunting grounds, leaving them to survive alone."
"For how long?" As a princess, Spectra's pride was considerable, but even she acknowledged that she would've been useless in the surface world as a newborn.
"When they're young, she visits every few months," he said, "until they're about a year old. After that, she leaves them isolated for two years before naming them groundskeepers."
Suddenly the groundskeeper's odd behaviour didn't seem as bizarre. They way he spoke jokingly with the captain was unusual, but she believed any Changeling subjected to years of isolation would be eager to connect to a pack.
Signs of the nest finally began to show. Dozens of broken branches lay on the floor, discarded in the process of building numerous nest-rooms and interconnecting them into one big outpost.
"But what's the point?" The hunter-drones were well equipped and spent most of their time hunting on the surface anyways. "It seems a lot of effort for something pointless." She didn't understand why the hive needed crazed, isolated specialists.
The captain pointed a hoof at the structures above them. "You think this all maintains itself? Who do you think empties and resets the traps? Or keeps the nests in good shape? Their job is to make sure that when a pack arrives, there's fresh, living food to refuel the hungry and a place to rest for the tired."
Irritation grew in his voice at the questions, but he relaxed in front of his princess. "The hive does not consider groundskeepers as drones. They're more independent and capable than any hunter-drone and don't care for any authority but the Queen's. They are her direct operatives on the surface, so even you must show respect deserving of that title."
Spectra didn't say anything else about it. She only nodded and looked up to the nest. "So, where's my nest-room?"
The captain unfolded his wings and hovered himself. "There are a few nest-rooms that should please you," he said. "I hope you find them comfortable, you'll begin preparing for your hunt first thing tomorrow morning." Without waiting, he took off for the trees, with Spectra catching up behind him, eager for the next day.
Spectra wracked her brain in the groundskeeper's nest-room, where maps and charts of the surface world bombarded her with information. She did not imagine her hunt would contain so much planning.
The hunter-drones were out patrolling according to the groundskeeper's schedule, leaving her alone to make sense of all the details she was expected to know. She put a hoof over their location, just miles south of a fork in the river. She traced it west, following one of the forked rivers to where another pony settlement was.
That's where she came from, or at least that's what her pony disguise will say. Spectra looked at the letters scribbled over the village's marker. The groundskeeper apparently had adopted the way ponies stored information, scratching markings into the paper with charcoal.
She rummaged through the other papers strewn around the nest, finally identifying a list that bore the same markings as her village. But it was worthless. Long lines of pony writing offered valuable information, and she couldn't read a word of it. She sighed and let the paper fall onto the map.
Hearing her discontent, the groundskeeper stuck his head up from the pile of foliage where he slept. "Is there something wrong?"
She snapped a glare at him. "How do you expect me to learn when I can't make sense of these markings and you're too busy lounging away?"
He shrugged. "Well you woke me up now, so might as well ask."
Briefly, Spectra's instinct kicked in and she felt disgusted at the Changeling. Any drone under her command would apologize for their ridiculous behaviour at once. But she was young and inexperienced, and he was not just any drone.
She breathed and let her emotions wash over her like a river smoothing a stone and lifted the paper about the village she was supposed to be from. "What am I supposed to learn from this?"
He crawled out from his sleeping spot and shifted uncomfortably close to Spectra, quickly scanning the things she had been trying to decipher.
"Marblestop," he read. "A pony town of some thirty-thousand residents. The rocky soil barely grows food despite annual floods, so they mainly export stones and ore they find in their quarries in return for grain and fruit. The trade district, which is where you will be from, is located in the banks along the river."
Spectra listened attentively to every word, picking up the sounds of each letter. If she could learn to copy the sounds, she figured she could also learn some of the words as well.
The groundskeeper went on and on, covering every detail true native of the pony village would know. The names of the streets, the names of important locals, the names of speciality dishes. Ponies used a lot of names.
But, as the days went on, each lesson grew more and more familiar. Spectra grew into her role, speaking to the groundskeeper as if she was already in disguise. After meals caught by the hunter-drones, she'd practice telling stories about her life growing up in Marblestop, ensuring none of the details contradicted each other.
"Marina Fisher," the groundskeeper called Spectra one night for dinner, using the name she had chosen for her disguise. Spectra reluctantly pulled herself away from the list of games popular among ponies.
"What's for dinner tonight?" she asked, pitching her voice higher the way ponies did when excited. "Oh, I hope it's not your swamp-style casserole."
The groundskeeper feigned a face of offence at her remark about his imagined cooking.
"Not that I don't appreciate it," she played along, "it's just that... I think eating a varied diet could be healthier."
The groundskeeper laughed, dropping the act of a cook. "Well, in that case, I reckon yer gonna enjoy this, girl." He lifted his hoof to his mouth, pressing his lips up against a small crack in his chitin, and blew a sharp call to the hunter-drones who were just returning with their hunt, perfectly on time.
The captain flew by, casting a knowing grin at the groundskeeper before leaving his catch in the middle of the nest-room. Spectra immediately knew something wasn't right. The food was wrapped up neatly, nothing like the freshly injured game she had been eating all week.
"Spend time out in wild too long and you'll lose a stomach for village food, Marina" the groundskeeper chuckled, unwrapping the meals hidden inside the cloth packaging. It was still warm, wisps of water vapour trailing off of it as he presented a plate piled with macerated roots and some kind of grain.
Spectra turned her nose away. "You expect me to eat that?" she almost shouted, muffling herself with her hooves over her face.
"It's just steamed carrots and barley, with a few herbal leaves," he said. "Really popular in Riverfork, since barley's their main export."
She lifted the plate in her hooves, testing the scent of the food. It was plain and lifeless. She lapped up a mouthful of the stuff, her face twisting at the rough texture of the grains. Yet, for an instant, Spectra thought she was capable of stomaching the food.
But as it rolled down her throat, her body rejected it. She gagged and doubled over, feeling like she was going to regurgitate every invasive grain.
But it wasn't just a bad meal. If she couldn't do something as simple as eat among her prey, she'd never blend in, and never be able to hunt. She'd be a failure to her mother, unworthy to her drones, and a weakling squashed by her sisters. In a surge of will, she locked her jaw and forced the vile pony sustenance down her throat. Her stomach lurched but didn't put up further resistance.
The groundskeeper laughed. "If it's that bad going in..."
"Not another word," Spectra panted. She picked the food in smaller portions, eating a few barley grains at a time.
He watched her, effortlessly downing his share of the barley as if it was any other meat. It was another testament to his experience above ground, and how much she needed to learn if she wanted to come out on top of her sisters.
Eating at an even pace, Spectra managed to finish her meal before the moon hit its zenith. The groundskeeper gave a satisfied grunt and levitated the plate back into its cloth wrapping.
"Tomorrow your pack will escort you to a stolen pony boat," he said after burying the dishes under some leaves. "From there, you'll sail into the harbour and begin a new life as Marina Fisher."
Spectra looked beyond the edge of the nest to a dim light in the distance where lamps burned away the dark. "How much contact should I keep with the pack?"
"The captain will assign a lieutenant as your watcher," he answered. "There'll also be a flier to deliver freshly caught prey every few days to keep you from going into a hunger-frenzy. Aside from that, you won't see the rest of them for as long as you're hunting."
Spectra nodded. It confirmed what her instincts told her; there were no vivid memories from her egg-dreams, but something from those dreams warned her that she would not have the benefits of the hive out in the pony world. The pack would take measures to protect her and keep her fed while undercover--pony food did nothing to sate her hunger, and leaving to hunt animals would raise suspicion among the villagers--but aside from that, she needed to find her own way.
"Tomorrow then," she said to the groundskeeper. She stretched opened her wings after hours of staying relatively still and hovered off the edge of his nest-room.
He simply nodded back in acknowledgement. "Good night, girl, and good luck tomorrow."
The pack spread out ahead of Spectra to make sure there was no pony nearby as the pack flew for the river banks. Only the captain stayed close, repeatedly quizzing her on what she was expected to do.
"You seem worried, captain," she said after he asked her to recite what she'd say to the dockmaster for the third time.
"Make no mistake, if you fail, or worse die, during this hunt, the Queen will be disappointed," he said. "But as captain, it'll be me she'll punish. It's my duty to make sure you're prepared. So tell me again where you're from."
"Marblestop," she answered in Marina Fisher's voice. "I and my father were smiths, but after he passed away I had to do work as a trader to make ends meet. I finally saved enough to buy a boat and sail to Riverfork to make a better life for myself."
The captain grunted in approval. "And have you thought about what cutie mark Marina will have?"
Spectra sighed, repeating again what she had already told him earlier that morning. "A fishing hook being shaped by a blacksmith's hammer."
"And how can you prove you're a real blacksmith?" The captain pressed.
"Okay that's enough!" she snapped. "I already told you every step ponies use to make their metal things, from ore to product."
"Fine," he grumbled. "We're at the boat anyway."
The vessel the pack had stolen in preparation for the hunt was a narrow fishing boat with a small carved dog head at its nose. On it was a few provisions a real pony would bring on a journey away from home. A few changes of clothes, some dried oats and grains, and a small satchel of silver coins ponies used to standardize trade.
Across the river, Spectra got her first real look at the village. The captain had described it well enough, but it mentioned nothing about its size. Where she expected huts built among trees, there were flattened dirt roads with wooden plank sidewalks. Hundreds of small boats crowded at the docks, where she could just barely make out countless ponies moving back and forth like busy worker-drones.
"I sent a lieutenant ahead last night," the captain told Spectra as she clamoured onto the boat. "I don't know what form they'll be in, but don't worry about finding them, they'll find you when you need it."
Spectra nodded and unfurled the sail on her little vessel. Once she was off at a steady pace for the village, the pack took to the air and disappeared into the trees. But before she drew anywhere near the village, she needed to change.
What was out of her reach before when she lived in the hive was now possible with the plentiful prey the surface world provided. She felt for her magic, gathering it until it pooled in her chest and leaked across her body. Ichor turned to blood as new veins formed.
At first, there was only pain, her skin and flesh being pulled apart and reformed. But that was short-lived, replaced by intense pleasure. Using the magical power stored inside her was just as intoxicating as stealing it from another living thing.
Her chitin melted away and became a soft, beige coat, and her twisted horn softened and straightened into a unicorn's, hardening again when it had taken shape. She felt like she had become her true self, a Changeling in disguise. She blinked as a new sensation came over her: the feeling of brown hair rolling down her face, covering her eyes.
"I'm not combing this every day," Spectra muttered to herself, expending a drop of magic to pull back the mane to a shorter length. She collapsed from the effort once it was done. The sky spun above her, clouds becoming white swirls as she slowly recovered from exhaustion.
She wasn't a Changeling, but she had kept some of her keener predatory senses. Hidden under her more adorable and cuddly unicorn appearance were the sensitive ears and nose of a hunter.
What reached her first was the sound of the village. Small boats constantly bumped against each other as ponies seemed desperate to make it back onto solid land. Larger ships loomed over them, creaking softly with the gentle waves of the river.
Then there was the scent. Despite their attempts at a draining system, the sheer size of the village amassed too much waste to go unnoticed. It was all taken away eventually to fertilize the vast tracts of farmland surrounding the village, but even then the lingering scent made Spectra, or Marina rather, sick.
But she would have to endure. If the ponies could muster the strength to live in such a condition, then it'd be no trouble for her either. She shook her head to clear it, putting on a strong face as her boat pulled into the docks. She tied it down to a post and walked up to meet the stallion approaching her with a scroll of paper.
"G' morning miss," he spoke in a heavily accented voice. "Gon' haftado sum paperwork 'fore you get t' village proper."
"Alright," she said while focusing on just trying to make out what he was saying.
"Name?"
"Marina Fisher," she answered.
The stallion scribbled on his scroll. "An' wherya comin' from Miss Fisher?"
"Marblestop."
His ears perked up. "Realuh now? Yer, uh, one of the refugees then?"
Marina furrowed her brows. "What do you mean by a refugee?"
The dock master lowered his scroll and looked at her. "Beggin' your pardon if the term offends, miss, but after what happened at yer village, y' all're pretty much refugees."
"Wait, what happened to my home?" Neither the groundskeeper nor the captain mentioned any trouble her village could have been in. "I've been sailing for a while, I haven't been home in a long time."
Suddenly, a wave of sympathy washed over the stallion's face. "Musta left 'fore it happened then." He pointed to the hundreds of other small boats and rafts coming into the docks. "Them're yer kin. Fled after Changelings hit yer village."
Her sisters. It must have been one of them. She wanted to smile, knowing that one of them had already been exposed and had to resort to primitive violence to get their prey, but it was no laughing matter for Marina. With a gentle trickle of magic, Spectra stimulated the eyes, watering them until tears streaked down her face.
"Oh, er, don't fret miss," the dock master stammered. "I suppose since you came on business, council's ban on yer folk don't apply to you. Um, yer on business, right?"
She faked a meek nod. "Lost my job back home. Came to try blacksmithing here."
The dock master quickly scribbled on his scroll. "Reckon you can pass. Got more questions, but y'don' need any more o' those right now. Sorry for, ah, the bad news."
Marina slung her bags over her back and thanked the stallion. She kept her head low, doing her best to conceal a grin. The pony's sympathy smelled so sweet, and it was a great way to bypass all the irritating questions that reminded her of the captain. Still, she had to be more vigilant than ever now. With true Marblestop ponies waiting right outside the docks, there were hundreds of ponies who could spot any crack in her disguise.
She had to keep the story straight. She was Marina, a blacksmith's daughter who left home after hard times, but before the Changeling attack. She came to work as a blacksmith in Riverfork. She was Marina Fisher.
Marina's eyes widened at every sight of Riverfork. The village was surrounded by farmland made fertile from gentle floods, but the same gift to the countryside forced the buildings of the village to be raised on cobblestone. Though the main road was a wide dirt path, flattened and hardened by countless carts and carriages riding over it, most of the walkways throughout the village were made of raised wooden planks.
Stores sold all sorts of products, from herbal medicines to cutlery. If she was going to find a job and a place to stay, there was plenty of opportunity in the trading district.
Still, it was easier said than done. The whole village seemed unnerved, ponies hurrying in and out of shops, all trying to get back home as soon as possible. At the end of the main road out of the village, a whole herd of ponies had rallied at a carriage stop.
"I was here first!" some pony shouted as Marina approached the stop.
"Only because I left to buy some jam for my son!" yelled another stallion. As a pony, the commotion elicited worry from Marina, but as Spectra she relished in the emotional broth. If she wasn't focused on her hunt, she'd consume all their magic right on the spot. But that'd make her no better than her sisters, one of whom had already gotten caught if local news was to be believed.
One pony stood out though, a stallion in a pressed green tunic. It looked nice, though Marina could tell it was a bit too big for him. Perhaps it was like the armour hunter-drones wore, and he had killed his elder for it? Spectra shook her head. That was a ridiculous notion. Ponies could never be capable of what her kind was willing to do to survive. Yet, he seemed very observant of what was going on, so she headed his way.
"What's happening?" she asked him.
"Half the cart-bearers refuse to pull ponies out to their farms," the stallion answered. "The Changeling raid on Marblestop cut off our source of iron ore, meaning less horseshoes until the village council rations out more. But for now, the cart-bearers refuse to pull the carts to the countryside without proper hoof protection."
He turned and took a closer look at Marina's bags. "You don't happen to be new in town, are you?"
She nodded to him. "Why ask?"
He swung his head side to side, checking to make sure the other ponies were out of earshot. "My father owns the carriage station around the village. I only came to check on the problem, preferably without a mob attacking me, but if you came looking for work you could-"
"I'm not hauling carts around for you," she cut him off.
"Oh, of course," he changed his tone. "Sorry, it's just this problem's been eating away at my dad for days now."
Spectra wanted to laugh at his attempt. Were Marina a real pony, she had no doubt his ploy would garner at least some sympathy. But he was barking up the wrong tree with her.
"Well I've been on the river for a long time, and just showed up here to find out my home was sacked by a pack of monsters," she countered his sob story with her own. "I'm not exactly in the mood to change my plans for you."
"You're from Marblestop?" the stallion said with surprise. "I thought they weren't letting any of your kind into the village."
"Your kind?" Something tweaked in Marina's mind. "What's that supposed to mean?" she snapped at him.
He stepped back defensively. "Just curious, is all. Geez, if all Marblestop mares are like you, I don't know how those Changelings pulled off their raid."
"Whatever you say," she mumbled as she turned away. Though she could bathe in the emotions of the mob all day, she still had a task to complete, and the sooner the better.
The stallion took his attention off the crowd for a moment. "Hold on, I didn't mean to make you feel bad." His hoof caught her shoulder and he spun her around. Spectra wanted to bite his leg off for the intrusion into her personal space, but she clenched her jaw instead.
"My father raised me to treat ponies well," he said. "If you really don't want to deal with me, fine, but I can't imagine what losing your home must feel like, and I just rubbed it in your face. Let me treat you to dinner, to make up for it."
And there was that sweet smell of sympathy. It was even stronger than the scent on the dock master; he believed he was in the wrong, and Spectra could read his inner conflict just by his scent. Finding a job with bed and boarding could wait just one night if it meant savouring this stallion's emotions.
"Alright," she said, pitching her voice slightly higher as if she found the apology acceptable. "I guess I need a moment to catch my breath, after everything's that's happened."
The stallion's home was a fairly large townhouse, situated on a street of banks, trading posts, and coin exchanges. This one street, Marina guessed, was the real source of Riverfork's success. It was like the heart of the hive. From here, everything in the village was connected and made possible.
As she was led up to the front door of the townhouse, she could see farmers across the street selling bushels of barley for coins. Silver coins changed hooves as the farmers immediately took that gold to trading posts to buy everything else they needed.
"Hope you're not thinking about being a banker," the stallion chuckled. "When there's trouble, ponies are always ready to blame the ones who hold their money."
Inside the house, sweet-smelling incense erased the village outside. Magic filled the house, not that any of the ponies living in it could tell. Their love, protection, and care for the home drew in magic from outside, concentrating it within the house's brick walls.
There was so much magic, Spectra felt herself grow stronger just by breathing. It put a smile on her face.
"Glad you like the candles," the stallion said, taking the bags off her back and hanging them along a row of hooks by the entrance. "I just hope my father doesn't ruin things-"
"Ruin what, Reiter?" came a voice from what smelled like a kitchen.
He emerged, hooves covered in batter, though not a single spot was on his blue tunic. His gaze immediately turned from him to Marina. "Oh, another one."
"What?" Reiter's eyes flicked to Marina and back, a look of realization passing over him. "Oh no, we just met at the station."
"You must be Reiter's father," she tried to diffuse the tension she smelled in the air. "Your son's said a lot of things about your generosity, he didn't think you'd mind entertaining a guest."
"He said those things?" he said in a curious tone, but his eyes were still Reiter. "Well, now I know my son has an eye for liars. And so why is she here now?"
"She's from Marblestop, but left before the attack and only just found out when she came here," Reiter answered. "And I may have made some less-than-tact remarks about the situation."
Marina lowered her head, feigning a look of depression at the mention of her village. The ploy worked. Reiter's father took a deep breath, and Spectra could smell magic seeping into him as he became sympathetic. It was much weaker than Reiter's scent, but it was something at least.
His father sighed. "Whatever he has said is for him to atone." He reached into a small pouch hanging on his belt and produced a bell from it. He rung it twice and put it back. "A stallion's integrity is his own to manage. However..."
"I've never turned away guest," he said, returning his gaze to his son. "However abrupt their arrival may be."
Behind Reiter's father, a mare in a simple apron appeared. "What do you need sir?"
"We have company," he said. "Please have the spare room ready and have the others finish up making dinner."
The servant bowed her head slightly. "Of course, sir." She hurried upstairs with the task.
He turned back to Marina, showing a batter-covered hoof. "Excuse me while I clean up. Feel free to make yourself comfortable, the table's already been set." He walked back into the kitchen, but his steps carried further on, retreating into a bathroom at the back of the house.
Reiter's shoulders relaxed, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "He took that pretty well."
"What did your father mean when he called me 'another one?'" Marina asked.
Reiter made for the dining room. "Hey, let me show you around and talk about anything other than that."
She furrowed her brow at him. Spectra wasn't used to not getting answers. Her drones told her everything she needed to know. But, there were less direct ways to peeling the truth from him, and the further she went with it, the more magic his emotions would bring.
The dining room was a narrow space adjacent to the kitchen, though it was not without its comforts. Its size made everything in reach, from knives and forks to the delicate glasses that ponies drank out of.
Reiter put out a set of plates and utensils for Marina while the appetizers were brought out by another servant. The young stallion was scrawny but managed to balance a heavy-looking tray decorated with plates of seaweed rolls and vegetable balls.
Though she still didn't understand everything about the surface world, this was familiar. Spectra was surprised to see ponies used their own versions of drones, even if those drones weren't any different from them.
"So, are you liking Riverfork so far?" Reiter asked as he took his seat across from Marina. "I mean, besides the part involving me."
She waved her hoof, motioning to the servant who was filling her glass to stop. "I've mostly heard about all the farming and grain that goes on here. The village centre is a lot different from what I expected."
She released a small amount of magic into her horn, lifting the glass to her nose. The groundskeeper had mentioned wine, a drink ponies made from aged fruits, but never said the smell would be as sharp as it was. Still, she politely drank it, sucking in the urge to regurgitate. Despite the blood red colour, it had none of the same taste.
"That's pretty much what I always hear." Reiter reached his hoof out and scooped up a vegetable ball, balancing it on his hoof while he bit it in half. "I hope you'll find Riverfork is a perfect place for any pony, no matter where they're from. Merchants from every town and village along the rivers meet here, bringing their culture with them."
"So, is that your story?" Marina asked, levitating a seaweed roll onto her plate. "Did your family come here too?"
He shrugged. "At some point, I imagine. My great-grandfather was a carpenter, and woodworking isn't common among the Riverfork ponies. But it was my grandfather who built the first cart-station. He realized getting from the countryside to the market was a lot of work for farmers. After that, his business just grew."
There were hoof steps coming from the hallways as Reiter's father and the other servants entered from the kitchen. As he sat down by his son, hot plates covered in green vegetables, flatbread, and barley covered in some kind of dressing. Despite her transformed senses, however, Spectra's gut still reacted adversely to the food.
"Thank you so much for the dinner, sir," she addressed Reiter's father.
"Please, call me Cedar Pine," he said. "But not Mister Pine. No, Mister Pine was my father."
"Fair enough, Cedar." She levitated her spoon and scooped some of the barley and vegetables onto her plate, but she didn't eat from it yet. She remembered her reaction to barley and doubted she had the groundskeeper's level of endurance. She needed time to figure out another solution.
"So, you were at the carriage station at the edge of the village?" he asked as he took a bite from a vegetable ball. Marina simply nodded as she focused on pooling her magic into her stomach.
He continued after a quick sip of wine. "What did you think of it?"
"It looks pretty important," she answered. "Shame you don't have enough cart-bearers." She mimicked his motion and drank some more wine. She clamped her jaw immediately, stopping her tongue from spitting it out. But it was short-lived suffering. The magic in her had now reached out and coated the lining of her stomach, sealing it off from whatever she ate or drank.
Cedar nodded. "It'll put a dent in the grain business if farmers can't bring their produce to the village to sell. Funny how things are related, even between iron and grain."
Spectra wanted to buck herself in the back. Her disguise was a blacksmith, but her sister's actions were now causing her hunt to go sideways. If she couldn't find a good station soon, there'd be no way she'd be able to find some pony with enough love to kidnap.
She spooned a lump of barley into her mouth. "Guess no iron means a harder time for blacksmiths," she said glumly.
"Oh you'd be surprised," Reiter chuckled, wiping his mouth clean of the barley stuck to his lips with a checkered napkin. "Every pony in town's looking to hire blacksmiths now. The council rations iron based on need, so more blacksmiths means more iron, for whoever's lucky enough to hire more than one."
Cedar raised a brow. "Won't be hard now to come by a smith. Were you looking for anything in particular?"
"I'm looking for a job," she blurted, catching herself too late.
Reiter looked at her. "A job? But at the station, you said you weren't interested."
"Do I look like a cart-bearer to you?" she snapped at him. It was more or less the truest expression she had used since entering Riverfork. Spectra was not going to subject herself or her disguise to simple labour meant for drones.
Reiter's father nudged his son and cast him a look to shut his mouth. "Are you saying you're a blacksmith, Miss Fisher?"
She nodded, giving Cedar the honour her attention instead of Reiter. "My father taught me every trick of the trade before he passed."
"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear he's gone," Cedar consoled, the scent of sympathy filling him again, this time stronger. "However, I don't suppose you have your smithing papers with you, do you?"
She expected this question to come up after the groundskeeper's lessons. Along with names for things and important individuals, ponies like to used writing to prove their skills. Smithing papers were widely recognized as verifying a blacksmith's skill, and having them almost guaranteed a job at any village or town.
Marina shook her head, playing along. "I was too young to get them when he died, too old to be a filly but not quite a mare. But I worked with him every day in the forge. Had too, since mum died when I was born. I would've applied for my papers, but I got caught up just trying to earn a living."
Cedar scratched his head. "Sounds like you had a lot on your shoulders. I'd hire you on the spot, but that'd still leave the problem of the iron."
Marina's ears stood up, excited. "I thought the council would ration it." The job was almost in her grasp now; she almost had the perfect disguise.
"True, but they won't give to a blacksmith without her papers," Cedar said.
"If only someone here knew a certain council member's daughter," Reiter smirked.
His father's face immediately turned sour. "Her father nearly got you thrown into jail. Council member Gentry explicitly said he didn't want to see you anywhere near his daughter again."
Reiter waved his father's concern away. "He didn't say that."
"No," Cedar gritted his teeth. "He said much worse, in many, very damning, ways."
"What about his daughter's wishes?" Marina asked. "Don't see why he should get to decide who she sees and talks to." The groundskeeper's notes didn't say much about interpersonal relationships, and she didn't know how it'd be taken by ponies, but it was a point she was willing to defend.
She had seen many things while flying from the hive: bears, birds, and hundreds of insects. Among these creatures, and even in the hive, the females were the larger, and commanded respect from their males. Why were ponies so different?
"Worth a shot. As long as I don't find you in jail again," Cedar mumbled doubtfully to his son, "by all means, go and get in touch with Gentry's daughter."
"Her name's Lunti," he replied, "and I'm sure she'll be happy to hear from me."
"Mhmm," Cedar sounded, continuing to finish his dinner.
Marina smiled and levitated a vegetable ball to her mouth. Its outer layer was thin and crunchy, though its insides were soft, the flavour of magic-less vegetables masked by a subtle taste of cheese. The cheese tickled her tongue with a sensation that reminded her of the hive.
The dairy inside the vegetable ball, she realized, came from a cow rich with emotions and magic. Somehow through the long cooking process, the cheese still held some of the life magic, like the magic that clung to the meat of dead rats. She didn't care to think how something so removed from life could still hold magic.
She finished the vegetable ball and grabbed another. "And, that part about hiring me?"
"I'll have some pony in my staff introduce you to a business partner of mine," he answered happily. "He owns a workshop that makes all sorts of things, including horseshoes. He has plenty of extra rooms above his workshop for room and board if you need it."
"That sounds great," Marina replied, covering her mouth as a vegetable ball threatened to roll back out as she spoke. Reiter stifled a giggle, but she still caught his glance. The magic clinging to his coat was delicious, a colourful mix of all sorts of positive emotions, most of it joy and surprise that he managed to stumble into a new blacksmith or hire.
Spectra was glad ponies had such insensitive noses as she planned the next steps of her hunt. If they could smell her true intentions underneath her smiling visage, they'd run in terror instead of sharing a dinner. She swallowed and grabbed another cheese-filled vegetable ball.
Her room was on the top floor of Cooper Hammer's workshop, three floors above the streets where customers walked in and out for repairs and new things. Wood, paint, metal, candles, the workshop dealt in everything ponies needed. She didn't understand completely how the business worked, only her labour was essentially split between Cooper and Cedar. Cedar provided her, the smith, as long as Cooper openly shared his workshop.
Marina fished a tunic and a thick apron from her clothing bag in the corner of the room, put it on, and made her way down to Cooper Hammer's forge. Once again, she decided to skip breakfast, or what passed as a breakfast for a pony. With the right ingredients, their food was bearable. But most of the dry, grainy bagels in the bakery next door left a horrible aftertaste in her mouth.
She was supposed to complete whatever Cedar needed first, as per the business deal with Cooper. The rest of her time would be spent doing other work around the workshop. But, without her papers, Cedar had no iron for horseshoes, and the past week had solely been dedicated to Cooper's backlog of customer requests.
The heat as she entered the back of the workshop threatened to cook her, even in her thick, protecting apron. Rods of iron glowed red hot as another blacksmith pumped air through the bellows.
"G' mornin' miss," the blacksmith greeted. He did so every day, but Marina couldn't seem to keep his name in her mind. He barely spoke a word while he worked, so there was little to talk about.
"Good morning," she replied, avoiding addressing him by name.
She moved to a worktable with a number of tools for finishing up the forge's products. Hammers, sharpening stones, filers, Marina put these into the pockets of her apron, keeping them close. She levitated a set of kitchen knives and began refining their edges with a sharpening stone.
The owner of the workshop, Cooper Hammer, had her doing miscellaneous tasks while she waited for Reiter to resolve the issue of her not having smithing papers. Cedar's word alone got her hired as a blacksmith, but he wasn't going to let her shape metal until he was sure she could.
It was for the best. The groundskeeper's note on blacksmithing detailed the process of heating and hammering iron, but she still needed experience if she was going to convince ponies she really was raised by a Marblestop smith. As she sharpened the kitchen knives, her eyes were focused on the other blacksmith and how he worked the metal.
She watched the glowing heat glisten off his coat, already sweaty from a morning of preparing the forge. He was a unicorn like Marina, but could only focus on holding the iron still on the anvil with magic; his foreleg stretched with power as the hammer attached to his horseshoe slammed onto the metal.
Magic would always be superior to the primitive power of flesh, but she couldn't deny that his corded muscles, bundled under the stallion's flexing skin, were impressive.
A ring of a bell signalled a customer entering tore Marina out of her study of the blacksmith's techniques. It was still early, and Cooper Hammer was likely not at the store yet. She down the knives in sharpened and unsharpened piles and went to greet the customers.
"Welcome to Cooper's Wares," she put on a friendly face.
But the two earth pony stallions walking in didn't seem to notice her. The peered around, scanning the display cases where Cooper put the metalwork. Spectra recognized their eyes. She had seen the same predatory gleam in her sister Tenacity many times hunting rats in their hive.
Marina gestured with her hoof for them to come over to the counter. "If you're looking for something, I could probably help."
One of the stallions looked at her, furrowing his brow at her annoyance. "We're fine." They resumed their gazing, all the while whispering to each other, their inaudible to any pony who wasn't directly beside them. Spectra was fortunate she wasn't a pony.
She let some of her magic reach into her ears, changing the shape and sensitivity of the inner ear. On the one hoof, she was curious to see ponies playing at subterfuge, but Marina doubted she could keep her job if anything happened to Cooper Hammer's business.
"Defn'y the colt's work," one stallion said, his accent markedly different from his partner's. "Everyfing's same as last week."
"Maybe Coop doesn't have an extra pair of hooves helping out," the other pony said.
"Ello, ello, wot's this'un?" Marina listened and watched carefully as the accented stallion inspected a set of brass and bronze belt buckles. She watched carefully now. She had polished them.
The partner nodded. "Ferron always misses the corners on his polish. Not this one though."
Ferron, the colt they whispered about. Marina couldn't remember the other blacksmith's name off the top of her head, but she knew it when she heard it. True, they were much older than Ferron, but that alone didn't justify calling him a colt. They clearly knew how to spot his craft, so if Marina was to guess, they were familiar with smithing as well.
"Excuse me, we don't encourage loiterers," Marina pressed. "I'm going to have to ask you two to leave if you're just going to stand around like that."
"Leave?" The partner swung his head around. "We're good friends of Coop, just waiting for him is all."
The accented stallion glanced her way, then refocused on the display sets. "Wher'd he find a piece like that?" He whispered to his partner was low, but Marina could pick it up with little effort. "Oughta get one too."
His partner smirked and whispered. "You wouldn't be able to control yourself."
He quickly set his attention back on Marina, however. "But, since you're so here, we were wondering if any pony was hired recently."
"Who's asking?" Marina replied.
"Again, just a couple of friends," he answered, though Spectra could smell the magic shifting inside him, reacting to the lie.
"And why would friends care?" she fumed. They must have thought she was an idiot, or just didn't care if she figured them out. She wanted to confront them, but that was not the Changeling way. They came to learn about Cooper Hammer's new blacksmith, clearly. But competitors of Cooper were competitors of her as well, and that could not stand.
The accented stallion turned his head to her. "Wot, y'nev'had a friend b'fore, never took an interest in any pony but yourself?"
"Of course I have!" she sputtered, knowing full well it was a lie. Even her own sisters had little place in her heart. "But where security is concerned I can't take chances. As friends, you should appreciate that."
The accented stallion huffed. "Steady on, seen'uff anyhow. C'mon Ric'."
His partner nodded, eyeing Marina one more time before they saw themselves out through the front door. As soon as they were out of sight from the windows, Marina checked over everything they had looked at. Nothing was stolen, that much was clear at first glance. Every piece was safely behind locked displays cases.
But they only looked at the metalworking. There was no doubt they were not who they said. But that still left a lot of options, and she was only just acquainting herself with the nuances of the village. It was perhaps the only flaw in the groundskeeper's lessons, though one that could not be fixed. With so many ponies and businesses, details of relationships, it was impossible to keep track of every single one. He understood the overall situation by ignoring the mundane lives of individuals, leaving fieldwork exceptionally taxing.
Ferron's hammering had stopped, and Marina turned to see him at the door exiting the workshop. "I heard you talking to Quillion and Ricasso. Cooper normally just uses a broomstick to chase them off. One time he even reached for a knife."
Spectra wasn't surprised, she understood how Cooper felt. It would be almost too easy to take the form of some pony they loved and cut their throat when they least expected it. But there'd be no fun in the hunt, and anyways it was an excessive reaction to a minor problem.
The one thing that was certain, however, was they she needed to know who they were. "I take it they have a history with Cooper? What were they doing, looking around?"
"Probably checking up on how I'm doing," he said bitterly behind his teeth. "Though, it's more like they're tracking my progress, making sure I don't surpass their quality."
"How good are they at smithing?" she asked.
"Better than I am," he put bluntly. "By the time I got my papers, they were already known throughout Riverfork."
Threatening competitors, then. Spectra imagined those two were to Cooper what her larger sister Majesta was to her. Still, Majesta rarely concerned herself with what her other sisters did. "Then why come here, bother us?"
"Their good, no pony denies that," Ferron said, "but they have too many customers to do things themselves. Whole villages along the rivers order almost exclusively from them. They keep up with demand by buying out smaller blacksmiths and workshops. Cooper's barely been able to stay out of their hooves."
"No pony stops them?" Of course, no pony did, Marina thought to herself. They were building their own hive of metalworkers, with themselves as the leaders. But for her sake, she had to hope that there was a chance.
"Some accept it happily," Ferron continued to explain, a sudden look on his face telling Marina that there was more he wouldn't say. "New blacksmiths looking to train under them willingly sell their businesses to them. I'd be surprised if they have to make anything themselves at this point. Most of the time they just inspect the work to make sure it's good enough."
Just how well did Ferron know then? Marina guessed there had to be some deeper connection. But ponies were sensitive and easily turned defensive when their secrets were at stake. Prying could turn him cautious around her, so she left the topic be.
The bell at the door rung again, this time with a friendly face coming in. Cooper Hammer, a middle-aged unicorn whose copper coloured coat was dirtied with the residue of dust, coal, and other qualities of his workshop. In a field of levitation, he waved an envelope.
"Sorry I'm late, lass," he said. "Got caught up with Cedar. His lad managed to find your papers, but we got caught up talking over breakfast."
Marina's stomach growled at the mention of food. Pony food could stuff her belly and make the hunger go away for some time, but as the days went on and on she felt her magic draining.
She reached out and took the papers. "Where were they? I can't imagine when they could have fallen out."
"Must've slipped out during dinner or something," Cooper answered. "Said something about a maid finding it and putting it away."
"Well, at least she didn't toss it in the dump." Marina opened the envelop, flipping through the small stack of signed pages verifying that she was an actual blacksmith, including a page that entitled her employer to a small portion of the village's iron.
"Aye," Cooper nodded. "And Cedar just signed over the iron ration he received to me, so go on ahead and use what we have left for Cedar's horseshoes."
"Hey, I gotta talk to you about something," Ferron said while Marina headed into the back to prepare the iron in the forge. She didn't need to guess what was on Ferron's mind. She left him to tell Cooper about the two stallions who came earlier, while she quickly ran through the steps to heat and hammer iron in her head.
She'd cut the iron rod when it was hot into shorter pieces, hammering out the same arched shape a hundred times. With magic, their methods would be simple. Her story may have been a lie, but not her ability. Marina wasn't going to let herself be stopped by a menial task. She found the storage closet at the back of the workshop and withdrew the last three iron rods. She slotted them into the furnace until they glowed bright orange with heat, then levitated them out and set to work on the anvil.
It was her turn to close the store tonight. Ferron had just retired to his room on the second floor. But Marina wasn't ready for sleep just yet. She thought hunger would make her drowsy over time, sapping her energy. But it only stirred her deepest instincts, commands that all living things had to abide by.
Only by sheer force of will did her stay her horn from attacking every living thing she saw. Her body was ready to hunt, flushed with adrenaline. Most creatures couldn't stand the stress of their body's survival panic, and even a hunter-drone's hunting-rush lasted a few hours.
But princesses were born with greater endurance, letting her adrenaline peak her senses throughout the day. The sensation kept her awake, and she had welcomed it in the morning, but by the evening it was too much, an agonizing overload of sensory information. Her hooves were jittery now, and every sight and sound was sharpened.
"Locking up?" Marina squealed and jumped at Reiter's voice behind her. She turned around and punched his chest, though weakened it greatly when she realized it was him.
He laughed as the softened blow bounced off his body. "Didn't realize you spooked so easily."
How had he snuck up on her? "I didn't hear you coming," she said, though it was also an observation for herself.
Reiter lifted up a hoof wrapped in a fluffy covering made of leather and fur. "Just got these, Silent Steppers the trader called them. Supposed to be enchanted with magic crystals from really far up north."
Marina sniffed the air. She didn't smell any magic aside from Reiter's. "The fur just makes you quieter," she told him. "I think you've been tricked."
"Really?" he smirked and looked down at his hooves. "Then how does this happen?" He bent his knees and leapt as high up as he could, stomping his hooves onto the suspended wooden walkways. Even fur boots couldn't stop his weight from creaking the planks, or so Marina thought. But no sound came.
"I don't believe it," she murmured. "Do that again."
Reiter jumped, and then jumped again for good measure. Both times were absolutely silent. "Can't figure out where they put the crystals though. Must be pretty small if I can't feel it."
"Maybe it's just crystal powder." Marina wracked her brain at the possibilities. She still couldn't sense its magic even though she knew it was there. If there were magical crystals, a fine powder might hold a lot less magic.
She took her mind off the boots. It was ridiculous, creating a mystery over the craft of hoof wear. "Is this why you came to scare me? Your boots?"
Reiter shrugged. "I guess. Though I never need a reason to see my friends."
"We're friends now?" Marina raised a brow. "I might work here, but your father's technically still my boss. I think there's a rule somewhere that makes friendship between us too awkward."
"Then I'll just have to walk to my favourite cheesemonger alone," he said wistfully. He shrugged and turned, leaving along the wooden walkways.
Cheese. The word alone lifted her spirits. Little specks of magic could be found inside cheese, and with the pack's support seemingly nowhere to be found, cheese would have to do.
She hurried behind him. "You're just taunting me now."
"Ha! I knew you couldn't resist," he harked. They turned the corner and made for the market closest to the docks. The most expensive shops were there, eager to draw in tired and hungry merchants and travellers.
"I really like cheese," she sputtered. "So what?"
"So," Reiter smiled, "it means I know how to give you a good time." He pointed to a shop made of cobbled stone standing by the large dirt road that cut through Riverfork. "There!"
He jumped down from the walkway, his fancy boots making his landing as silent as an owl. Marina followed, though with much less grace as her legs thumped onto the dirt. She brushed herself off, not letting the forgettable annoyance stop her from getting cheese.
She looked above the door as they entered, reading The Cheesen Ones across a brass placard. Inside the store burst to life before Marina's senses. The air was scented with magic, not just from the cheese, but the hard work of the owner of the shop. The cheese maker's own love for their work imparted a small amount of emotion and magic into the cheese, which somehow held onto it just as it held onto the magic of the cow that its milk came from.
"Reiter!" exclaimed a pegasus mare at the purchasing counter. It was rare to see her kind on the ground, but one look and it wasn't a mystery why. Her wings were underdeveloped, somewhere between a filly's and a full grown pegasus'. Perhaps she was cast out, or she just couldn't get home.
Reiter leaned against the counter and flashed a white smile. "How have things been, Esilis?"
"I'm getting by," she smiled. Her eyes flicked to Marina.
Marina noticed she wore a silver ram's head necklace over her servant uniform. Or at least it was meant to look silver. Minor chips where the necklace had been scratched after repetitively being taken on and off revealed it was a cheaper metal that could easily peel off the brass inside. But it was important to her, or she wouldn't wear such a cheap piece proudly.
She smiled back to Esilis. "I like your necklace. The ram represents safety, doesn't it?"
A spark of appreciation glossed over Esilis's eyes. "Close. The ram's a symbol of protection along the northern river."
"Of course," Marina replied. "I've never been, just heard some comments about it."
The pegasus wasn't bothered. "We have a lot of spirit animals, I know it can get confusing. But, I'm sure you're probably here for cheese, not my rambling."
"Mm," Reiter sounded, pointing to a waxed, circular block of cheese just behind Esilis. "Any chance you could tell us what that one is?"
"Moth-aged Charger," she said. "Boss finally let it out after fifteen months of ageing."
"Fifteen? I'll take it," Reiter smacked his lips, fishing out a coin pouch from a pocket inside his tunic.
"Moth-aged?" Marina raised a brow.
"My boss, Romano, says he ages the cheese in a mix made of powdered moth wings," Esilis explained.
Reiter chuckled. "I've seen his business ledgers. It's just all the Eastern Moth-petaled flowers he buys, though their petals really do look like moth wings."
Esilis shrugged. "Either way, it gets the job done. He had some left over after waxing it and I got to try some. It melts in your mouth and leaves a strong aftertaste as if you're eating it again for a second time."
The three of them stood around a little while longer, talking. It was late, and no pony else was coming to buy cheese anyways. Wrapped up in conversation, they eventually laid out a blanket and shared the cheese like a picnic, eating it with a box of crackers Reiter had brought with him in anticipation of his cheese.
They would come across a topic of interest, then slowly derail and come across another, entirely different, point of discussion. They moved between metalworking and cheese-making and cart-managing, competing to see who had the most trouble to deal with, and shared their hobbies.
Reiter and Esilis were in a debate over the best acting troupes when Marina turned her ear outwards. Eight hooves, two ponies, were pacing down the dirt path too quickly for a leisurely stroll. Coarse dirt grated under their hooves.
For a moment she thought it was her hunter-drones, the lieutenant and the courier, but it wasn't possible. They may have been simple drones, but they were bred for stealth and would've been much hard to hear, even with her senses peaked by hunger.
Reiter and Esilis noticed Marina's distraction and both turned to look out the window at what she was listening to. There was nothing at first, and they almost turned away before two black, cloth-wrapped heads arrived outside the window.
"Well they look dressed for trouble," Esilis murmured.
Reiter cut a piece of cheese and spread it on a cracker. "Can't assume that just because they're covered up they're planning to do something bad," he said as he bit into the cracker.
But Marina was the first one to notice the brick. She jumped for Esilis, knocking her out of the way as a heavy piece of cut stone smashed through the cheese shop's window, knocking over shelves of waxed cheeses as it entered. Marina's horn glowed, the brick levitating and flying back out of the window, hitting the pony climbing halfway through the broken glass.
The other figure grabbed his friend and shook him up, almost dragging him as they ran away. Marina had to know who they were, though. Letting them get away could cause even more trouble in the future. She galloped out the door, catching up instantly to the two ponies and tackling the one she had already hit. As they crashed into the ground, the grunt Marina heard was definitely a stallion's.
She stood up immediately and stepped back as the other attacker threatened her with a levitating knife. The unicorn, Marina guessed, never had to use her own hooves for hard labour. She swatted the knife aside and locked horns. The attacker pushed back, but the mare's strained voice told Marina that her strength was quickly waning.
Marina got under the mare, remembering how she fought with her sister Halfwing for the best bits of the junk that would pile up around the hive. Back then, it was between two evenly matched fighters. This mare barely held her own, frantically trying to get her focus back on the knife as Marina managed to crank a foreleg into a painfully wrong position.
Esilis and Reiter came running from the shop. "What in Equestria do they want?" Reiter asked.
"Agh!" the mare screamed when something in her leg popped. "Let me go, let me go I give up. Please!"
Spectra wanted to reach into her and tear the fear and pain right out. Cheese was fine, but her blood was pumping now and this mare and her partner were filled with magic.
"Ricasso made us do it," the stallion coughed as he pulled himself up from the dirt. "He said we'd get a raise if we sent a message. It was just to scare you, we promise."
Marina released her hold on the mare, shoving her away from her knife though. Esilis saw it glinting on the ground and picked it up in her wing.
"You're their apprentices," she said, looking at them. It was hard to make out what they looked like under clothes that covered them. The black cloth wrappings draped their head and face, blending with the black wool jackets they wore. Though they were both young, that much she was certain of. Neither of them had the physique of experienced smiths.
"What do they want with Cooper?" She demanded.
The mare spoke up, though her voice was shaky as she clasped her shoulder. "They've been talking about a new blacksmith working at Cooper's shop. They just want to know more. They told us to scare you, so the next time they showed up you might spill something about him."
Him. It really was hard for them to imagine a mare crafting metal, even when the steps were easy to remember, and with magic, it took no effort at all to hammer and shape the iron into even the most delicate of ornaments.
Marina wanted to laugh. Their own lack of imagination stopped them from seeing the answer they sought after.
"You tell those two to leave my friend alone," Reiter put firmly.
She couldn't see their faces, but their eyes told Marina everything. They looked at Reiter in his colourfully dyed tunic, presses and neat. Among them, he looked rather ridiculous, however rich he may be.
"I don't see what you have to do with this," the stallion taunted. "Your father's money can't help her."
Reiter took the knife out of Esilis's wing and flung it at him. The knife flew wildly, posing little threat, though everyone ducked reflexively anyways. It looked ridiculous to Marina, but Reiter didn't seem to care.
"It's not my father's friend being assaulted," he said. "I know plenty of ponies who could end their business with a single signature. Tell them that."
Esilis wrapped a wing around Reiter's shoulder. "Sweat heart," she said with pity in her voice. "Acting tough doesn't suit you. You sound ridiculous."
She pointed her other wing to the injured mare. "I think Marina can handle herself."
Marina nodded and stepped threateningly toward the two apprentices. "I'm just trying to get by. Whatever problem there is between Cooper and your masters has nothing to do with me. Make sure it stays that way, or we'll have trouble."
"They'll blame us if you won't tell them anything," the stallion whined.
But Marina didn't care. "Hope you two are better at lying than fighting, then."
Reiter and Marina walked back with Esilis. The moon was high now, and what happened none of them seemed to have the appetite for more cheese. Which was a lie, of course, on Marina's part. She was still starving but went along anyway. Esilis locked up the front door to the shop, though there wasn't much she could do about the window.
The three worked together to board it up with some pieces of empty crates. It wasn't pretty, nor would it stop any pony who was determined enough, but it'd keep rats and other animals out of the shop for the rest of the night. Finished, the three said their farewells and went their way back home to rest for the night.
Not Marina, however. The cheese could keep her from losing control, but it could hardly satisfy the hunger she felt. It was just over a week now since her last proper meal. She'd have to eat cheese every day just to keep from starving herself. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and form a plan. It was night, and the countryside was far removed from the prying eyes of the city. She could go there, find some unsuspecting cow or pet, and return with her belly full before the break of dawn.
She turned the corner away from Cooper's workshop and made her way to the carriage stop that led out of the village. She started up her speed, working into a gallop to take her far from the village until she passed a voice that stopped her. It rasped with the primitive dialect of her hunter-drones.
"Glad to see you're well, princess," whispered a mare's voice, though her words were the hisses and clicks of Changelings. "Apologies for not coming sooner, but you'll understand why after dinner."
Marina stopped herself, skidding her hooves roughly along the dirt path and taking a closer look. Leaning against a wall was a thin mare. She looked physically tired, but her eyes flicked warily, watching for any onlookers who might stumble across them.
"You have a place to hide?" Marina asked. The lieutenant only nodded. She didn't look well enough to have gone hunting, but Spectra trusted that her pack left her something large enough to replenish the magic she'd lost over the week. And besides, she was curious to hear what complications the pack could have encountered.
"Let's go," Marina said. "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse."
The cow dropped dead. Beside it lay a deer, along with a few pets with various name tags around their necks. Spectra didn't realize her hunger had driven her body to such extremes as she drank the magic straight from their bodies. She was still young and needed her teeth to contact their flesh, but their magic came so quickly into her mouth now that she could take it in freely.
She didn't stop until the last wisp of magic dripped from the cow's skin, like the last drop of water in a forgotten, rusting pipe. After that, she sat back.
The lieutenant had picked a perfect safe house. It was located far from any part of the village Marina had seen, in the heart of where vagabonds and vagrants settled down to scrape together their living. She hadn't heard about it before, though she wasn't surprised. Reiter's father controlled the transportation in and out of the village; they weren't exactly connected to the poor.
The Brute District it was sometimes called, according to her lieutenant. Named so because half of the ponies were former soldiers. Many were levied to go to war with some other competing village, only to return and find all their farms were untended wastelands. With nothing, their families sold their farms to rich buyers and moved here. It was a place a Changeling could hunt prey that would never be missed.
The house they were in was hardly that. It was a single room, furnished with just a few chairs, a carpet in the centre, and a small fire pit. Even the ground it was built on was poor. Unlike the rest of the village, there were no barriers built to resist the effects of the river's annual floods, leaving the soil soft and the buildings half-sunken. For Spectra, it almost felt like home.
"Princess Spectra, if you're done eating, I have news the captain needs you to hear." The lieutenant had taken a mare's form. Though they called each other brothers, none of the drones had any reproductive organs, and thus no sex to conform to the division that ponies had for themselves. Still, the lieutenant's choice was curious. The aggressive nature of Changelings made most drones identify as male.
Spectra listened to the hunter-drone as she chewed into the abdomen of the cow, tearing out a piece of its liver. She learned early on that magic could not make a body from nothing. She was still young and spent a considerable about of mass changing her form. She'd need to replenish some of it.
The chunk of liver was still wet and warm as she swallowed it whole, savouring its taste as sensation as it filled her. Finally, she wiped the blood from her mouth with a piece of cloth the lieutenant left on the floor and sat happily on one of the chairs.
"Now I'm done," she said. "Go ahead and tell me the explanation the captain has for the delay."
The lieutenant nodded, glowing her disguise's horn and levitating a map onto the carpet between them. "We've had engagements with Marblestop ponies at the perimeter of the nest. It seems Riverfork's reluctance to accept them has forced them onto our side of the river."
"Ponies can hardly fight," Spectra said, recalling how she had beaten the two apprentices so easily. "Is the captain really troubled by a few strays?"
"As you say, princess," the hunter-drone said in deference, "but there's more. Most refugee camps are just groups of unorganized tents, but a few have shown impressive organization."
The drone produced images of the camps sketched in charcoal. The tents were sectioned off to provide clear entrances and exits, with makeshift watchtowers built in the branches of surrounding trees.
"The captain thinks they're the remains of Marblestop's militia," explained the lieutenant, pointing to the sketch of the Marblestop banner. "They were weaker at first, simply sending scouts and clearing forests, but a few days ago a group of ten were sent with a herd of refugees, likely looking for a better campsite for others of their kind."
"You had to stop them from getting to the nest," Spectra guessed the next part.
The drone nodded. "We've been launching small attacks throughout their camps, militia and regular, to make them think the nest is closer than it really is. So far, they haven't caught on."
"How long has this gone on?" Spectra asked.
"Three days," was the answer.
They wouldn't hold out, Spectra thought to herself as she looked at the map. There were five camps in total, two of them belonging to the militia. But they would grow. From Cooper's workshop, she could hear whispers about the refugee situation. Every day ponies pleaded to the council, but every day dozens more were turned away at the docks. More camps would pop up around the nest. And sooner or later, they were going to find it.
"I need to know how bad it is," Spectra said. "How has the captain and groundskeeper reacted?"
"The captain made a comment about needed reinforcements after a raid," the lieutenant told Spectra. "The groundskeeper's more optimistic. About half of our attacks have been him alone, blasting magic at the militia camps to keep them overworked."
Spectra nodded, thinking on her next move. Reinforcements from the hive would definitely destroy the remains of Marblestop's resistance, but the captain wasn't in her position. This was part of her hunt, her chance to prove herself to the Queen. Her mother would not be impressed if she couldn't handle complications on her own, even if it was her sister's fault.
Her best bet was Riverfork. The refugees were near the nest because the village council wouldn't accept them. If she could use Reiter's connections to change that, the ponies would leave the pack alone the moment the docks were open to them. There was still the problem of time, however.
Getting Riverfork to change would take time, and the more refugees there were, the harder it'd become to stop so many from simply overrunning the pack and destroying the nest. A stronger strategy was needed to keep the refugees in disarray.
"Tell the captain to stop attacking scouting parties," she commanded the lieutenant after reviewing her plan in her head. "Start watching for supply boats entering the camps and attack when they unload their goods. Take or burn as much as their food as possible. Then, the militia should start defending their own camps more."
The lieutenant nodded, seeing the wisdom in the plan.
"And tell the groundskeeper I want him to infiltrate the camps and eliminate their leadership," Spectra added.
Her hunter-drone stopped and looked at her as if what she said was inconceivable. "You want us to tell the groundskeeper what to do?"
"I want you to take my orders to him," Spectra reiterated.
But it wasn't enough. The lieutenant shook her head. "He only listens to the Queen, he won't stop defending the nest."
Spectra gritted her teeth. "Then tell him my plan will keep his precious nest safe. Assassinating the Marblestop leadership will send them into disarray. It'll be easy to push them out."
"I can try, princess," the lieutenant said. She heard the doubt in her drone's voice, but Spectra was confident the groundskeeper knew what he had to do to keep the nest secured.
The sky turned a shade of grey. The change was barely noticeable, but in the privacy of their safe house, both Changelings let their natural senses operate normally, not capped by their disguised forms. The sun was still a long way away, but given another hour bakers would start heating their ovens and tailor would have their clothes pressed and ready.
"Go now," Spectra told the lieutenant. "Keep the refugees away, leave the rest to me."
The lieutenant gave her a confident nod, her magic exuding trust in her princess, as all drones had. Spectra watched as the hunter-drone dropped out of her pony form, bathing herself in green magic and reforming her flesh into its black, chitinous origins. In the night, a Changeling's natural colour was perfect for flying through the sky undetected.
After she took off, Spectra slumped in her chair. She'd have to go back to Cooper's workshop and forget everything that had happened, but come up with a way to get the Riverfork council to let in the refugees. Marina looked back at the pile of dead meat. It reminded her of home when she could play with pony trinkets like distant promises and freely whenever a stupid rat or lizard wandered by.
Before leaving, she decided to enjoy every memory of what it was to be a Changeling. She lied down by the corpses and breathed the salty smell of blood. She tore each open and swallowed their best parts; liver, thigh, ribs, marrow, Spectra sampled them all. But most importantly she felt the blood on her coat, rolling around in the innards of the cow and deer and pets, some of them still a little warm.
In only a few minutes every part of her was drenched red. She stood up, her eyes blurred by the blood dripping from her mane. Even when shortened, the brown hair still managed to stick to her eyelids. Spectra reached inwards for a small draw of her magic. Even a little bit, in a small burst, would be enough to clean herself off.
In a split moment, like the flash of a lightning bolt, a field of magic ejected from her horn, pushing aside the blood stuck to her coat and skin. The safe house was painted in blood now, though no doubt the lieutenant would return later and clean it up.
Marina stepped carefully, avoiding getting any blood on her hooves, and exited the door. The stars were still out but were beginning to dwindle away. It was a sign that soon the sun would come, and she'd have to finish thirty more horseshoes and whatever other orders Cooper Hammer needed to fill.
"Finished with those key rings?" Ferron asked as he cut a hot sheet of brass to shape into name tags.
"Cooled and ready to ship," Marina replied.
"Alright," he said. "I'll get them to Cooper if you can finish up the tags here."
Silently, Marin took Ferron's spot and continued hammering out name tags. Her mind wasn't on the work, however. The past three days she had spent every idle moment learning about Riverfork's politics. Reiter may have had all the connections she needed to get her voice heard, but she still needed to be convincing.
Three borrowed books sat in her room as she worked, detailing the history of Riverfork's leaders, and it surprised Marina that the ponies were able to get anything done.
There was the council, five ponies who proposed and voted on new laws for the village. In times of emergency, they were the ones who could control the village militia and enact immediate wartime commands. But they weren't the hardest part. Marina found that ponies were possessed by the idea that dividing control would keep them safe from oppressors.
The Assembly of Citizens, it had been eventually named, was another hundred elected ponies who voted on whatever the council passed. This meant unless there was a state of panic, Marina would have to convince both parts of leadership to allow Marblestop refugees into the village.
Her status as a Marblestop blacksmith would let her speak up on behalf of refugees without raising suspicion, but that left little followers who would back her. She had asked Reiter a few days ago to arrange a meeting with the council but doubted that would be enough. She'd have to talk to them, convince them. It wouldn't be like commanding drones.
She kept at it, formulating argument after argument that could make accepting refugees a better choice. Labor, trade, and stronger numbers, they were all similar reasons for expanding a hive. So, she wondered, what was stopping the council from voting on a law to let the refugees in?
Marina heard the bell above the shop's door ring, followed by Reiter's calls. "Marina, you in here?"
She went out to meet him, leaving only a few stray name tags to be rounded off and polished. He stood along with Esilis, waiting at the door.
"You're here, that's good," she said. "Were you able to arrange a hearing with the council?"
"Favors have their uses," Reiter said, though not happily. "And their limits. Lunti's father sniffed me out and threatened to have me thrown in jail for indecency."
"Honestly, what did you do with her?" Marina wondered.
"Don't bother asking," Esilis chuckled, punching Reiter in the shoulder. "I've asked too many times, and heard every excuse he has to ignore me."
"There are more important things right now," he said, completely ignoring the two mare's inquiries. "I didn't come out empty hoofed."
"Rumours don't count," Esilis remarked, covering up Reiter's face with her wing. "Before he says anything, take it cautiously."
Reiter shoved her wing aside and coughed feathers back. "It's not rumoured. I literally did not come empty hoofed."
He reached into his pocket and produced a scrap of paper. "I couldn't talk about much, Lunti's father was in the room right next to us, but she did slip me this."
Marina grabbed it and read the note. My maids whispered something about Marblestop officials smuggling themselves into the village. They should be here this evening. It came from a long line of mouths, but I think it's worth looking into.
From the camps, Marina thought to herself. The ban applied to all, or else they wouldn't need to be smuggled in. But, once in the city, the council wouldn't dare arrest the officers while the Marblestop militia waited across the river. They'd have to hear them out. From then on, the ethics ponies valued so much would give the officers the advantage.
"Reiter showed it to me too," Esilis added. "I don't believe it, but it's a good way to get the day off. I talked to a few friends and we'll be in the crowds to throw in our support."
"When the officers show up, they'll see us, and you'll get an audience with them." Reiter finished.
So she couldn't meet with the council, but these ponies could. These leaders, whom she had ordered her pack to assassinate, would live just a little longer. She would speak to them and ensure they burned the refugee ban to ashes with their words. She found it funny, how her plan to kill off the Marblestop leadership was clearly too late, only to evolve into using them while they lived.
"I'll get Ferron to cover the workshop for the afternoon," she told them. "Meet in an hour?"
The square outside the council hall was bordered on three sides by temples, each boasting small markets of goods. Idols of spirits, nature gods, and food prepared as offerings were spread across tables as keepers of the temples encouraged ponies to support their deities.
It was a symbol, of course, that the council hall presided over all these temples. Spectra appreciated the show of power as if the building itself declared that all gods and spirits were under its lawful watch, and was elevated on fifteen polished marble steps to prove the point.
But today ponies were not out for the gods. In the pavilion at the centre of the square, the only structure made of white marble pillars with a marble top was a crier. The pony's voice was his natural talent as he shouted the names of the arriving Marblestop officers.
"Your rumours were right," Esilis retorted as the three friends watched the carriage arrive before the council. They stood between the pavilion and the road the carriage entered on. They weren't up front to wave at the officers, but could still see over the heads of the ponies in front of them.
Marina nodded, acknowledging Esilis's retort, but it concerned her. The council clearly knew the officers were arriving, taking any surprise they had and throwing it away. And, as Esilis had done with her friends, they rallied a crowd. Marina gritted her teeth. The point of the officers smuggling themselves into the village was to catch the council off guard and pressure them into dropping the ban.
Now they were even greeted by a crier and, most likely, would be provided lodgings until a meeting time would be provided. Marina's mind raced. The welcome was a ploy. If they officers refused the hospitality, they'd be cast in a poor light and wield little power at the council meeting. If they accepted, they'd be a place to stay while the council prepared their debate for keeping up the ban.
A shudder sneaked under Marina's skin. This was politics at its fullest. In the hive, her sisters were the only threats to her power, threats easily silenced with ferocity and brute savagery. But not on the surface. Whichever council member had heard of the officers and formulated this plan was not some livestock for Changelings, but a calculating strategist. She could read the plan, but even this never occurred to her, and that was what scared her the most.
"The village of Riverfork welcomes Commander Iridi of the Marblestop Militia," the crier told all who could hear. From the carriage, Marina watched a pale-coated stallion step out onto the dirt road that the carriage had come by. The dust still settling from the wheels dirtied his hooves, but he only dusted off his fabrics, armour made of laminated linen and leather, reinforced with bronze scales.
The next pony carried none of the militancy of Iridi but replaced it with grace. "Espera Voxa, Speaker for the Four Stones of Faith, Riverfork is pleased to have you."
The mare, however, barely waited for the crier to finish the introduction. She stepped out and moved briskly after the commander. The way she walked, Marina noticed, seemed impatient. Though she was certain others were focused on the way her thin white silks danced in the air as she walked, revealing her light-rose coat underneath.
Marina's eyes flicked to Esilis, who was nudging Reiter to take more care with his prying eyes.
"Welcome, Governor Seiris," the crier continued. "You honour Riverfork with your presence."
The stallion who emerged from the carriage was younger than the others. He was, Marina estimated, just barely an adult. He was too young to be governor by normal standards, however, she really wasn't in a position to mock him even if it was in her head. She herself was really only a few months old, after all.
Nonetheless, he walked without a care for the adoring mares in the crowd who stood closer to the procession. His younger complexion and healthy, shining coat was evidently a mark of good breed. Spectra wondered if his magic would taste any sweeter than the others.
Marina spotted Esilis this time, her jaw dropped slightly. If surviving officers of Marblestop were so popular, it wouldn't be easy to get their attention. But she didn't bet everything on this opportunity just to lose to a crowd of prey. She hooked her hoof around Esilis's and dragged her closer to the front, with Reiter following behind.
Mares and stallions eager to see the upper ranks of Marblestop society grumbled as they passed, but Marina hissed at any who tried to stand up for themselves. She moved as close as the guards outside the council hall would allow and focused her ear on the officers' voices.
"What's happening Iridi?" The Espera turned to the militia commander. "You said no pony knew we'd be coming. We show up, and a herd of guards escort us to the village centre."
"Don't blame him too much," the governor interceded. "Riverfork has eyes and ears from all parts of the rivers. I'm not surprised we were found out, though I'm glad we weren't simply assassinated in the countryside."
Suddenly the door to the council hall opened, the braziers inside casting a light brighter than the scarlet setting sun. Out came five stallions dressed in brightly dyed tunics that made Reiter's clothing look like a mud stain on a grey carpet. One walked ahead of the other four, casting his voice into the crowd as he trotted down the pristine white steps.
"I was overjoyed to hear of your visit, Governor Seiris," the council member spoke. "Though I'm afraid it had to come by me though rather unprofessional avenues. I'm sorry for the loss your village has suffered."
The young governor stomped up, taking three of the marble steps for himself. "Not sorry enough to let my ponies into your village." His voice boiled with anger, and even at his distance, Marina could still smell it, like savoury sage-roasted potatoes. Yet his words were measured and paced, not giving the council enough fire to call him an arsonist.
The stallion stopped halfway down and raised a hoof in defence of himself. "I know you have grievances, but our village doesn't work like yours. We have other matters at hoof, and in any case, it'll take time for the Assembly of Citizens to convene and hear whatever you have to say. Until then, we would be more than happy to provide guest rooms here in the council hall."
Marina could smell his emotion flipping and adrenaline rushing, considering the situation as she had. What would he do? She imagined herself in his position, and the answer became clear.
"We'd be happy to accept your hospitality," Seiris said. A veil washed over his magic, masking his emotions from Marina.
It threw her off. Was he calm, or was this a trick unicorns could do? Either way, it was clear he gained the title of Governor for good reason. He knew how to control, both himself and an unexpected situation. He couldn't reject the offer and go back to the refugees with nothing. They'd never respect him if he did.
"Excellent," smiled the council member. He waved his hoof invitingly while telling the guards to clear the crowd and lead the guests to their rooms. Prisoners, more like, Marina almost hissed her thoughts out loud. The council was taking her pawns in this game.
"I guess loose lips are everywhere, Reiter," Esilis mocked Reiter as they, and the rest of the ponies, were ushered back toward the temples.
He frowned. "It's not like I could predict that the council would already know. I thought that if they did, they'd just enforce the ban and kick them out."
"I need to get in there," Marina fumed. She turned to Reiter. "Maybe I could meet this Lunti you always talk about."
Esilis stepped beside Marina and whispered with her head lowered. "Total bitch." If Reiter heard, he definitely didn't show any sign.
"That's too much for me. Even my dad couldn't do something like that," Reiter said. "I'm sorry, but this is as far as my connections can go."
Marina sucked her breath in, trying not to scream. The ponies she needed were right there. A proper hunt would take months to accomplish. Settling down, solidifying her position in the village, meeting ponies and sampling the strongest love, it could not be rushed. She needed her pack to supply her, but it was impossible with the refugees at the border of the nest.
Esilis wrapped her wing around Marina. "Just shows how far you can go with money and a pretty face." She smiled and shot a cheeky wink at Reiter. "I think I can show you how far some good friends can get you."
She broke off the embrace and motioned them to follow with her wing. "Even a store clerk knows a few good ponies."
"Keep your eyes low and just fetch whatever they want." Harrier, a council hall maid. This other unfortunate pegasus happened to be Esilis's friend, to no surprise of Marina. One wing was painfully shredded, the irregular marks telling it was an accident against some dense forest.
Marina walked awkwardly, trying to fit into the same black and white uniform Harrier seemed to have no trouble moving in. The top was bad enough, constricting at the waist where a blacksmith's would be loose. But worse still was the skirt, cutting short when any reasonable tunic would have continued. Marina felt both cold and on display.
"How do you put up with this?" Marina growled, tugging at uniform to loosen it up just a little. "I can barely breathe."
"That's a shame," Harrier smirked, tracing her eyes along Marina. "You wear it so well. You'd definitely become some pony's favourite."
Marina's eyes widened, but she shook off the feeling of violation. She'd go to any length to make sure her hunt ended successfully, but nothing said she had to enjoy the animal desires of ponies.
"In a few hours the guests will be served," Harrier said as she led her to the broom closet. "For now, just do some chores around the hall. I'll tell you when it's time to ask them what they'd like for supper."
Marina nodded and levitated a broom out of the closet. Harrier left to check on the other maids working around the hall, leaving her to quietly sweep all the rooms. Marina took it as an opportunity to map out the council hall, and perhaps learn more about the members themselves.
There were more parts of the hall than Marina expected. She swept the staff wing, the library, the Assembly meeting chambers, and skipped over the council meeting chamber whose doors were locked. She swept past a few guards, ignoring their jeering eyes, cleaning deep into the office wing.
There were doors up and down the hallways with the names of the council members, and a few Assembly members, engraved in brass. Marina's memory was blurry, but she recalled council member Gentry, Lunti's father, as she passed his office.
She peered down the hall. Marina suspected she wasn't supposed to clean the offices themselves, but there weren't any guards beyond the two at the entrance to this wing of the council hall.
Once she realized she could do it, she pressed her ears up to the doors, making sure there was no pony in them. No Assembly members were present, and the council was likely still in session to discuss the Marblestop officers.
Marina slipped into council member Gentry's office without any more hesitation. She needed every detail on the council. She needed their letters, their personal notes. Carefully, the papers on the desk were levitated, read by the light of Marina's horn.
[centre]Half of the Assembly would raise an army against me if I agreed to this. Restructuring the merchant and banking guilds in this way is going to piss off every Assembly member representing the farmers. The last council members tried this and it caused a ten-day riot. I'm not giving a yes on this until my security bill passes.The last line of the letter confirmed the council was not completely united. With the Assembly sharing power, they could only collude through favours, making each other seem successful to the scrutiny of other ponies.
[centre]I know it goes against your refugee ban, but I won't make empty requests. I'll drop the guild issue after this and get on board with Stamp Ink's version of the tax bill.It was another letter to Gentry, written in a more artful manner than the other. At the bottom of the paper, it was signed Chevron Stitch.
Marina hurried over to his office. His letter sounded like he was to one to ruin her plans of surprise. He wasn't an overbearing power in the council but played what he had very well. Evidently, whatever promises he made to Lunti's father was worth it.
Chevron's office, unlike Gentry's, was ordered and wiped clean. Judging by the dust on his desk, she guessed it was cleaned this morning. His organization vexed her. Gentry's mess was no worse after she had riffled through it, but to read through Chevron's notes without being noticed would take a lot more time than she had.
She peeled away carefully at the first few letters neatly placed upon his desk. Something, anything, that told her his motives would be helpful. But they were just personal letters. A bill for new candles, some requests from Assembly members, and an unopened letter.
The letter was at the bottom of the pile, so untouched even the edges were perfect, unwrinkled by any handling. It was possible he didn't even know it was on his desk.
"Forget it, it's not worth the risk," she scowled to herself. But she didn't take her eyes off the letter.
She felt around her uniform for somewhere to slip the envelope without it falling out.
"Hope he doesn't come looking for it," she sighed, concealing the thing between her clothes and her chest. She levitated her broom, closed and locked Chevron's door, and broke into a near gallop for the kitchen. It was almost supper time.
"Whatever you have to say, just remember to actually ask them what they want for supper," Harrier told Marina just as they approached the guest rooms. "I still have my job to do, you know." Marina nodded. Through the door, she could hear hushed voices of the officers debating over their next action.
"I don't like, Seiris," the Espera said, sounding like she was speaking through gritted teeth.
"My plan hasn't changed, Voxa," the governor insisted. "Stop acting like we're prisoners and enjoy the first real bedroom we've had in weeks. We'll need the rest for the meeting tomorrow."
"You almost make it sound like we're on a vacation," grunted the commander.
"And you've been making this out to be a prison sentence," Seiris countered. "Now, do you both trust me?"
There was a momentary pause, followed by a unanimous, "Not really."
"Hm, fair enough," the governor conceded. "But just let me do the talking anyway."
Marina waited a few seconds to see if there was anything else. Half a minute passed and she decided she needed to initiate the next move. She knocked on the door.
Seiris opened up almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for something to interrupt his discussion with the other officers. "Right on time!" he said cheerfully. "You cannot imagine how hungry we are."
Marina drew a short breath, reading the scent of their magic. Both Voxa and Iridi were agitated, their body flushed with all the natural signs of stress. But even face to face, she couldn't read Seiris. Whatever his trick was, it didn't matter. Marina walked into the room, forcing her way into the room and closing the door behind her. The foyer was small, just a writing desk and a couple sofas. A small corridor led to the other bedrooms of the guest wing.
"What are you doing?" The commander barked. His horn glowed and Marina could see the levitation spell responding, gripping a knife handle hidden under his armor.
Magic pooled in the Espera's horn too, though the spell glowed bright hot like a ball of fire. "See Seiris? I told you this would happen!"
"I'm Marina, a blacksmith," she pressed back against their hostility. "I left Marblestop before the attack, and only found out a few weeks ago when I arrived."
The two traded looks at each other, and then at their governor. He simply shrugged. "Let her speak. Supper clearly won't be showing soon." They relaxed and retracted their magic.
"Thank you," she said. "Since I arrived I've heard nothing but bad news. I didn't have any family left there, but I still want to help however I can. You're here to get the council to lift the ban, aren't you?"
"Ideally," Seiris said, taking a seat on the sofa. "But right now I'm sure the council is preparing a speech to defend their position."
"You said you were a blacksmith," the Espera noted. "You don't really look the part."
Marina looked down at the uniform, reminded of what she was forced to wear. "The hall has guards at the doors and in every wing. A friend managed to sneak me in, but only like this."
"So, you're a bag of surprises, aren't you?" the Governor said. "I'm glad to have your support, though I don't really know what you could do in this situation."
"What do you know about the council?" Marina suggested to them.
All three ponies shrugged. "Marblestop trades a lot with Riverfork," Seiris said. "But that's just between merchants. I can't remember the last time our governments needed to meet in this way before."
"I hear they can influence one temple to get more offerings than others" the Espera added, her face souring. "It's dishonourable to involve the spirits in such politics."
Really? Marina wondered. This, coming from the mare who's official position was a religious leader?
Marina thought for a moment. Of course, the council wanted to keep their internal affairs private. To the others, they were a unified body controlling the richest village in Equestria. But each of them had their own agenda, ones that could be exploited to gain favour with some members.
"I did some investigating around their offices," Marina told the three of them. "I know they seem like a team, but the council isn't a single unit. Each of them wants something for the city. If you can give that to them, the council members would be willing to trade their favour for it."
"Give them what, exactly?" the commander asked.
Marina shook her head. "I didn't have enough time to look through everything." She reached into her uniform and produced the unopened letter. "But I did take this from council member Chevron's office. I have no idea what it is, but it could be of some value."
Seiris grabbed it immediately and tore the envelope with his teeth. "Better odds than before," he remarked, levitating the paper in the air to read.
[centre]I won't do this anymore. I can't. Either he'll find out, or just stop listening to me. I know you want your secrets hidden, and I can still do that, but you'll have to control the council some other way. Maybe, once everything becomes quiet again, we'll meet like we used to at your family's farm. But until then, I'm sorry."No signature," Voxa sighed. "But clearly this 'Chevron' has strings we can pull."
"True," Seiris agreed. "Thank you, Marina. Maybe before tomorrow, we can find out more." Marina didn't reply. She only stared hard at the writing style.
The commander eyed her. "She looks under a spell."
"Don't be ridiculous," Seiris scoffed. He waved a hoof in front of Marina. "Hello? Mares are usually stunned when they first see me, not in the middle of a conversation."
Marina blinked. She didn't need to see the signature, the letter was the signature. "I know who wrote this." She shook her head, trying to clear it up. "I know that horn writing because that pony gave my friend a note this morning."
She grabbed the letter in her magic and brought it close to scrutinize. The twist of a letter, the spacing, it was all the same. "It's from Lunti, council member Gentry's daughter."
There was a brief moment of stunned silence. And then it was gone.
"Haha!" Seiris leapt off the sofa, throwing the fluffed pillows onto the carpet. He grabbed Marina and kissed her forehead. "This is great. No, it's perfect!"
Suddenly the dam that blocked his magic cleared, and she could smell the joy inside him. Moreover, darker feeling brewed, his mind likely already weighing the options.
"Governor, calm yourself!" the Espera hushed. "The fortune of this letter is not lost on any of us, but the council members are still in the hall with us."
"Let him have his moment," Iridi smirked. "They're likely still drafting what they'll say for our meeting. The council meeting chamber is nowhere near us."
"No, Voxa is right," Seiris blurted, a smile still contorting his face with excitement. "Now is the time to act. Blackmail Chevron, or inform Gentry in return for a favour?"
Two sound options. Either council member would have some sway over others, Marina guessed. It was likely they'd gain more than just pony on their side regardless of which path they took. But they had to choose. Taking both sides wouldn't work; as soon as Gentry found out, he'd confront Chevron, making the blackmail pointless.
"Gentry deserves to know," Espera Voxa threw in her voice in the matter. "We'll be doing a good act in the eyes of the spirits, and be helping out ponies."
"But Chevron, he was the one who greeted us," Seiris replied.
Marina raised a brow. "Are you sure? How could you tell?"
"I am Governor," he answered simply. "It's my job to know other leaders, even if dealings with them are rare."
"If he leads them, he's the one we need to control," the commander finished Seiris's thought.
"But he could have easily turned you away," Marina added. "I saw some letters that I couldn't take that sounded like inviting you to stay instead of arresting you was his idea. He might have plans that align with ours."
Voxa nodded. "If he's already willing to help us, we may not need to waste the knowledge we have."
"Key word if," Seiris said.
"Then think about the consequences of blackmailing him," Marina reasoned aloud. "We're outsiders, standing at the seat of Chevron's power. We don't even know if blackmailing would work on him. He could have all of us exiled from the village."
"Wrong deeds are quickly punished by the spirits," Espera Voxa reiterated. "Even Riverfork gods hold the same rule. Turn on Chevron, and we may lose an ally instead of gaining one."
"Fine," Seiris relented, sitting back down in the slightly disturbed sofa. "Marina's weaselled her way in here with her own wit. If you two agree," he turned to commander Iridi, "then we've no choice but to listen." The commander said nothing else but simply nodded to his governor.
"I suppose we'll need some pony to carry out this plot, then," Voxa said, pointing her horn at Marina. "You've gotten this far. Do you think you can go a little farther?"
Any lengths necessary. Marina nodded. "Just tell me your demands and I'll make sure Gentry hears it."
"Of course, however," the young Governor clutched his belly. "Maybe we could plan that out over some food? Not that I'm ungrateful for your service, but supper would be nice as well."
Marina wanted to slam her head into a wall. All this, the luck of picking the right letter, of knowing Lunti's writing, of simply being able to find a disguise and walk around the hall unnoticed, and he wanted food? She supposed her own hunger wasn't much different, but at the very least she knew how to control it.
Ponies and their paltry, fibrous foods were inefficient compared to how much energy magic gave her. If their bodies ever figured out a way to use it instead of food, perhaps the hive would have real competition. But, she supposed nothing could be done about it.
"Right, of course," she forced a smile. "The council hall is stocked with food from all corners of Equestria. Just ask for anything, and the kitchen staff will have it."
The commander's mouth watered and his eyes glistened. "Spinach-stuffed artichoke."
"And lentil stew cooked in eastern spices," Seiris hastily added.
Voxa simply scoffed at them. "Stallions and their appetites. Even with our village at stake, you two can't control yourselves."
Iridi cast a dirty look at Voxa. "Don't act so mighty, you're as hungry as the rest of us, I'm sure."
"The spirits endowed ponies with discipline for health," she retorted.
The commander raised a sceptical brow. "Your figure has no complaints. You can spare a few courses." As if to agree with his point, the Espera's stomached growled.
She sighed. "I suppose I wouldn't say no to a bowl of couscous with coconut puree."
"Alright, if that's all-"
"No, wait," Seiris interjected. "Do they have Alllreci dipping oil for the bread?"
"Yes."
He didn't give her any time to say more. "I want some."
"And serve it with the flatbread," Voxa shamefully added, now that she had given in.
Marina sucked in her impatience. It didn't matter. She'd let them have their night and carry out whatever task was needed to get the council to take in the refugees. Then, she'd start making plans to lure away her prey. She had on some pony now. One whose love was strained but still true, who'd feel the sting of betrayal and the shame of revelation.
She took down the long list of dishes the officers wanted and left the room, hurrying back to the kitchen where the cooks were no doubt impatient, all the while aware of her predatory grin she was trying so desperately to conceal. She didn't even know the poor mare, but Lunti was beginning to become her key piece in this great game she called a hunt.
The council meeting chamber was a large semi-circular room situated at the centre of the council hall. The interior was made of solid carved wood. Each member's seat was raised on lacquered wooden steps that climbed up and put their chairs, thrones, heads above their audience.
The scale of the room was clearly made to intimidate, but the ponies before them now were more than familiar with politics. Marina, invited at Seiris's request, sat far back and watched as the three officers of Marblestop demanded that Riverfork open its borders.
She smirked as her nose passed over the smell of Gentry's magic. It wasn't hard to set his emotions on fire.
"You're lying," he had said when she snuck into his office after the council had ended their discussion. He had tried to call for the guards but was wise to stop when he saw the letter. Last night she had wanted to suck the anguish from his heart as he read the letter over and over, but smelling the magic in the room now was much better.
"Half your refugees are your soldiers, commander," one of the council members said. "How can we trust you when you have an army across our home?" He smelled of olive oil; a unique product processed by Marblestop crafters, Marina remembered from the groundskeeper's notes on the village. He rejected their ponies while valuing their produce. Such hypocrisy was an exceptionally special smell.
Gentry countered the olive-scented stallion, exactly as Marina had told him to. "You can't be serious. Their army is why we need them. How long will Riverfork remain free from the Changelings' fangs? Marblestop is less than a week away by boat, they could be ready to strike us as we speak!"
"And what if they are compromised?" Chevron asked. Marina eyed him carefully. His seat was in the middle, with two of the council members at each side. "I want to help our neighbours, but we cannot ignore this possibility."
"We know we are not, council member Chevron," Seiris said. "And Gentry is right. We've come now because our ponies have been running into Changelings in your forests. They've attacked and killed our ponies the same way they killed our village the first time around. If they were in our ranks why fight at all? We'd never know they were there."
No, you wouldn't indeed. All their talking, deliberating, arguing, it pleased Marina. Words passed back and forth, ultimately pointless. Gentry's vote was already cast, and Chevron seemed sympathetic to the Marblestop officers as well. Seeing this, all but the oil-scented council members eventually let themselves be "convinced" it was best to lift the ban, though Marina suspected the truth was that both Chevron and Gentry had pulled invisible strings to get what they wanted.
"Why tell me?" He had finally asked her, after coming to terms with the letter. "That bastard Chevron controls the council. And only now I see he's been controlling my daughter too."
"Because I believe he'll already go along with what I want," Marina had explained to Gentry.
She could smell his emotions flaring inside at the final vote. When all things were said, the five let their stance be clearly known.
"All in favour of abolishing the Marblestop refugee ban, raise one hoof." Chevron's hoof was already in the air as he said this, quickly followed by Gentry, seething.
"I won't side with the stallion who's been..." That night Gentry's anger went beyond what Marina had ever felt before. Anger was such a strong emotion, but it was too common, its taste easily becoming bland to a Changeling. But not Gentry's, not last night.
"You will, if you want me to do you a favour," Marina had said. It wasn't part of the officers' plan, but one she had come up with on the spot to suit her own needs. Anyways, an influence as strong as Chevron's could not be allowed to interfere with her in the future.
"I got this to you without being caught," she had told Gentry. "I can help you get revenge, however, you see fit. Just vote for my fellow citizens."
The final result was four to one, in favour of Marblestop. The oil-scented pony glared at the rest of the council, his eyes glaring with an anger that didn't sit well on Marina's tongue. But it didn't matter. The legislation was in the hooves of the Assembly now. With a few well-placed words of the Changeling threat, courtesy of Gentry himself, they would be rushing to invite Marblestop and its fighting force to stand against the Changeling horde.
Marina finally tore herself from her thoughts once she stepped out of the council hall, watching over the village from the highest marble step.
"The Assembly meets in a day," Seiris said, walking up beside her. "I spoke briefly with Gentry as we left. He'll uphold the rest of our terms and get them to affirm the council's decision."
Marina chuckled. "In truth, I had wanted to do this myself. I thought I could walk into the council and tell them how much our ponies are suffering. I thought I could win them over by being good."
He turned to her, raising a curious brow. "Thought?"
"Now I've learned how this works," she nodded. "No pony cares. If they are good, a leader will do the bad things necessary to achieve their goal. If they are bad, then it is doubly so."
"You should have been born a politician's daughter," Seiris stomped a hoof on the marble step in laughter. "Though if you were, I might not be Governor right now."
Marina brought her story to the surface of her mind. Her imagined father, a stallion of hard work and good character, who died before he could see his daughter's glory. Something about the story put her on the defensive.
"I was born to the good ponies," she hissed, directing disgust to the rest of the world. "My parents knew the value of honest, hard work. I don't want anything to do with your politics."
"I don't blame you," Seiris agreed. "Even now, Voxa and Iridi are having tea with the council members, making connections to strengthen their position for the future. I think that's what makes you better than the rest of us. You know when to call it and just live a good life."
She smiled bid farewell to the Governor, and walked away with her heart pounding in her chest. Lies. She was the worst of them, a monster wrapped in lies. She was born in the hive but now, more than ever, she realized she was destined for the surface and the shadowy games ponies played.
If she wasn't already a princess, then up here, she could become a queen.
Falling into her role became easy with her connections with Marblestop's remaining officers.
"You all have your tasks," Marina's voice echoed in her new workshop, a gift from Cooper. "Let's show our so-called competition what Marblestop craft is about."
"Hora-ora-ora!" Fifteen ponies shouted the popular Marblestop warcry. They were tanners, weavers, carpenters, wood carvers, and blacksmiths.
"Do you really think we can keep up?" Marina turned to her apprentice, a young Marblestop mare named Sun Birch.
She meant the northern trade fleet. Five ships carrying hundreds of merchants and their goods had docked in just days ago. They came from a number of villages further up north. The Crystal Veil, Ironmarsh, and Citrus Hills had coalesced into the largest flow of merchants Marina had ever seen during her six months in Riverfork.
She looked at her apprentice, a short but muscular mare. Without a horn or magic, she was forced to work iron with her own hooves, sculpting her limbs like a marble statue. She wasn't bulky, like Ferron, but her lean muscles were no weaker.
"Have we ever failed?" Marina asked.
"There was a fire two weeks ago," Sun Birch replied bluntly, pointing to a forge across the workshop. "It's still broken."
Marina sighed. "Small things like that can't weigh us down. I've come a long way since this place opened, and we've overcome a lot. We can fill each and every order on time."
Sun Birch nodded and smiled confidently. "Alright then." She gave an envelope to Marina. "A new priority order arrived in the letterbox. The Crystal Veil needs six-hundred spears."
Marina took the paper out and scanned over it, her eyes widening the more she read. It seemed life consisted of never-ending work.
The market just outside the docks had transformed with the clamour of northern merchants. The influx of refugees from Marblestop had filled the stores with stone statuettes, gold and silver jewellery, and religious icons paying tribute to their Four Spirits of Stone.
And now northern merchants fluttered eagerly to buy the increasingly rare crafts of Marina's kin. The fall of Marblestop had dramatically raised the value of its products, and clearly, the northern villages felt this change as well.
"What are you thinking of buying?" Esilis asked Marina as they strolled through the market together. "Last time I went to Cooper's, I heard Ferron saying he was thinking of buying you a crystal flower. You might want to get him something too."
Marina shot a grin at her friend. "You're lying. It's not a holiday, why would he buy me something like that?"
"Why indeed," Esilis smiled wolfishly back. "All you do is work together all the time, and before Cooper put you in charge of the new workshop, you two practically lived under the same roof. I know you must've watched how he hammers iron."
Marina ignored her implications and turned her head toward a Crystal Veil merchant. She could identify him by the chains of gold that ran along his hat, showing off the small crystals hanging on it.
"Ferron, huh?" she pointed Esilis's sight toward the merchant. "How about getting something for Reiter? He really likes northern outfits, because they put magic crystals into their clothes."
"Don't play around, Marina," she replied, slapping away her pointing hoof. "In case you forgot, he spends more time helping Lunti anyways."
Marina tilted her head as if remembering, but in truth she never forgot. Because of her, Lunti was disinherited by her father, and rejected by Chevron when he found out she could no longer influence council member Gentry anymore. She was a permanent guest at Reiter's townhouse, a fact that, despite how much she tried to hide it, dirtied Esilis's magic with negative emotions.
"Fine," Marina relented. "Then why don't you get Ferron something, since you think he's so great. His favourite pastime is reading, but he doesn't own any northern literature."
"Bookstores are on the other side of the market though," Esilis whined. "Do you really want to walk over there?"
"No," Marina said, patting her friend's shoulder. "You can walk over there. I have to meet with Seiris for lunch."
Esilis's eyes bulged and her jaw dropped. "Wait, are you two toge-"
"Okay that's enough from you," Marina cut her off. "Go live your own romances, and stop projecting your feelings onto me."
Esilis tried pressing for more but eventually gave up and disappeared into the crowd, fluffing her wings happily thinking she had discovered something about her friend.
"That mare..." Marina sighed to herself. "If her love wasn't so sporadic, she'd make a good catch for the hive."
She made for the docks, turning to a storeroom she had recently bought for all the iron the council rationed to her after Marblestop blacksmiths started seeking her out. Word of her involvement in getting the council to lift the ban turned her into a local hero, and there were even ponies who claimed they knew her when she still lived in Marblestop. They, of course, sought to elevate themselves, but she let those rumours run about and solidify her position among the ponies.
The storeroom was kept tightly sealed with thick walls to protect the iron ore from oxidizing with the moist river air. It was a curse and a blessing, for the poor location was exactly why the storeroom wasn't already owned by Quillion and Ricasso. It was reinforced to ensure nothing seeped in. And thus, kept many things from coming out.
She unlocked the front door, made from heavy lacquered pine, and stepped in, closing and locking it behind her immediately. The storeroom was cramped, stuffed with crates of raw materials her workshop needed.
"You could show up anywhere at any time," Marina spoke, turning her head to follow her nose. "Why here?"
The lieutenant from her packed assigned to watch over her crawled down from the rafters above in her natural shape, silently bowing once on the floor. "This place is your domain, your highness."
"How is the nest?"
"Still secure, princess." The lieutenant raised her head. "The combined militia of Riverfork and Marblestop may be larger now, but the fusion of the command structure has made it a liability for them."
"Good." She expected Riverfork would expand its security, making it harder in the village for her pack to send prey and information, but in the past few months, the war against her subordinates had increased worryingly. "The northern fleet has made this a good time to strike."
"Everything is still in place," the lieutenant answered. "Their armies won't get in the way."
Marina nodded. "There shouldn't be problems on my end either. Reiter and Esilis have been excellent contacts with the village's wealthy, and it's working class."
The lieutenant crinkled her nose. "Your success does not go unnoticed. I can smell iron and coal in your coat."
"And it's put me in a solid position," Marina returned quickly.
The Changeling bowed to her princess. "So then, how will you execute the final step?"
The final step. Once her hunt was over, she would not see Riverfork for a while. She'd return to the hive, learn new magic from her mother, and move on to see new parts of the world. She would no longer be Marina, leaving that position to the lieutenant who had watched her every move since she arrived in the village. Soon, six months, the majority of her life, would vanish.
Even if the loss could hurt, it still didn't change the fact that it was a cheap price to pay for power. Her sisters no doubt would do the same, even the one who had failed so terribly in Marblestop would still be fighting for power. Whatever life she built among the ponies was worthless compared to the command she had in the hive.
"Have the captain replace one of the merchants," she gave her order to the lieutenant. "I'll introduce him to my, Marina's, friends, and tell them I owe him an old favour."
"Just a favour?" the lieutenant asked.
Marina narrowed her eyes. The lieutenant had years of experience on the surface, just like the captain. She only asked as a test to ensure she was still being a worthy, and it irritated Marina.
Still, she needed to give the right answer. "Ponies value favours as much as currency. Even if they press, vague details will be enough to cover the lie." She wasn't proving herself to her pack, but to her mother, whose influence still extended this far, without a doubt.
"As you say," the lieutenant bowed.
"In two weeks the trade fleet will return north," Marina continued to explain. "We'll go with them, our prey bound and silenced, and break off from the fleet in the middle of the night."
"A straightforward plan," said the lieutenant. "Your will shall be done."
"Then I'll be off," Marina said, turning away from her hunter-drone. "Have the captain show up tomorrow. We'll start building up our story then."
"And what will you do until then?" The lieutenant inquired.
Marina stopped at the door. "Don't pretend you don't have other hunter-drones watching me, lieutenant. In any case, if you can't find out, I don't think it's any of your business."
She left and locked the door behind her, certain her hunter-drone didn't need a door to escape the storeroom. She headed back into the marketplace, walking up a very gentle slope to the only part of the village that resembled a hill. Mercantile Row, adorned with shops of painted wood and silver-coated iron gates. It was no wonder Seiris wanted to have lunch here.
The restaurant's appearance was nothing to gawk at, from a technical standpoint. It was over a decade old, according to the self-congratulatory plaque above the front door, but sported Marblestop architecture, powered by northern crystal magic. Pristine white fountains spilt water into the air like mist, cooling late-summer air.
But the perfection and order were garish. It was as pristine as the hive was rugged. Every tablecloth was fitted, and every waiter dressed the same, even wearing the same mane style. She wondered if it would do the ponies good to bring some Changeling disorder to the place.
"I'm glad business is well." Seiris's voice took Marina out of her daydreaming. "The Riverfork smiths I keep hearing about, they're stiff competition."
"They're nothing," Marina spat her words. "Their apprentices are nothing but servants. Most of them hardly learn anything new by working with those two."
"Well, hopefully, our ponies rise to the challenge," he said, scanning the menu prepared before him. Marina had already chosen a dish the moment she looked at it, but Seiris seemed impossibly indecisive.
She rolled her eyes. "You have the money and the stomach, why not get it all?"
He snapped his hoof on the table as if it was the sound of the thought hitting his mind. "Wonderful idea."
He turned and waved a waiter over. "We're ready to order, sir."
The two of them swapped small talk about work until the food came. Seiris had ordered with blind abandon, taking three plates of various kinds of pasta in cheese and tomato sauces. Marina ate happily enough with her sections of eggplant and artichoke cooked in four variants of cheese.
Still, after all these months, she couldn't figure out how it held onto magic. It was as if there was a bit of life still inside it to feed on. In any case, it made eating vegetables bearable.
"I'm glad we got to meet today," Marina cut in when they both had comfortably sated their hunger. "I've been thinking about the metalworking business."
"Oh?" Seiris sipped some wine and wiped his mouth. "Taking over Riverfork's market?"
Marina shook her head. "I met an old friend. He knew my family, and help me get a boat and some sales experience after my father passed. We talked a bit, and we agreed we'd be business partners. He just needs my help building a forge and hiring ponies."
"In another village?" Seiris leaned into the table. "You never stop being bold, do you? You won't be the first to try."
"But I'll be the first to succeed," Marina replied. She knew what fear Seiris was referring to. Trading happened easily enough between villages, but shops and services were always important to local ponies. They were like separate hives, adamantly barring other merchants and crafts ponies from entering their economy.
"I will succeed because there is no other avenue for me go," she continued, taking the conviction she felt for her hunt and moulding it to fit her words. "I've reached a wall, one made of a brick that will only break to powerful change. My friend, he's from the north. I help him set up smithies in places like Ironmarsh, creating places where our ponies can travel to and start new lives."
"New lives?" Seiris sounded perplexed. "Riverfork is our closest neighbour. This is the closest thing to home we have, Marina. One day we may even get back Marblestop."
"Maybe," she replied. "But if we don't? Marblestop can't live as Riverfork's permanent guest."
Seiris chuckled. It was weird sitting across from him and being able to smell the emotions drifting on his ambient magic because she knew his hidden power. Somehow he could mask it, fake his thoughts and emotions so well that even his body and his magic didn't know what was real. But at least for now, he had no reason for his mask.
"I guess there's only one choice, then," he said, poking into a large, spiralled piece of pasta. "I've been planning the Autumn Fire Festival now that the Marblestop District has been built. I suppose it'll also have to be a farewell party for you."
Farewell. A goodbye. Did she ever really belong in the first place? She skewered a slice of eggplants and twirled it around in cheese. "Father used to take me to those," she smiled. "It sounds nice."
Marina stretched out on her bed. Comfortably padded, she couldn't remember one bad night of rest. Still, the rest of her room was still minimal as ever. No paint on the walls, no pictures hung, just a plain square room with a really nice bed. It was all her body needed. Ponies were so soft on the outside without a chitinous exoskeleton that she couldn't help but wonder how the poor managed to sleep at all.
The unforgiving cradle she was born in had nothing but stone, and it made her stronger in the end.
Knock. She flicked her head toward her door. Another knock came.
"If it's about the iron rations, forget about it," she called out. "I talked to a trader from Ironmarsh. He was generous enough to sell his entire inventory."
"And what about our inventory, princess?" The voice behind the door was not the mare that her lieutenant preferred to use. Still, if the stallion had called her princess, then it could be only one.
She jumped out from under her covers and threw on a robe. "I hope you know what you're doing, coming to my house," she said as she opened her bedroom door.
The captain closed it as Marina returned to the warmth of her bed. "You live above your workshop. Plenty of ponies come in and out."
"Not at night," she corrected him.
The captain shrugged. "Perhaps you should ask some of your Marblestop pawns to guard the stairs next time."
"Next time." She sneered at him. "So we're really going to pretend as if I'm staying among these ponies for much longer?"
"No, I suppose it's pointless." The captain ran a hoof through his disguise's mane amber mane as if pushing the hair back as he transformed back into his Changeling form. It wasn't complete, however. His voice still sounded like a stallion's, not the clicking and hissing of his hunter-drone kind.
"Was that the merchant that'll be my business partner?" Marina sat up on her bed. Having him in his natural state disturbed her, even if they could both hear and smell any pony coming to interrupt.
The captain nodded. "I hope you'll know not to make such extraneous orders on the next hunt, princess."
"What?" He called her plan extraneous. Was it so bad that her own drone questioned her about it?
"It took hours finding the right trader, one who frequented Marblestop in the previous years and associated with no pony else in the trade fleet." He plucked a card from the pocket of the tunic his disguise was wearing and showed it to Marina.
It had the name of a company on it. "Even this merchant still has some acquaintances, however."
Marina slumped into her bed. She wanted to sink into the soft mattress. Of course, it wasn't as easy as inserting herself as a stranger into Riverfork. The trading fleet had a roster. One merchant bringing some friends could be passable, but the captain couldn't just take a random form and claim to be part of the fleet.
"It'll serve our purpose for now," she said. "We'll tie up loose ends later by having the merchant killed by some hunter-drones."
The captain licked his fangs. "Wouldn't be too far from the truth."
Marina smirked. "If you wanted your experience to impress, you've done your job," she said. "Now hurry up and tell me where your trader's shop is located. We have a convincing display to put on tomorrow."
The merchant's store was bigger than she expected, but not by much. It was crowded with other traders who had rented out space from the local owners. Still, the array of wares was more than even Cooper could produce. Blown glass hardened with magic crystals seemed to be the popular thing.
"Nice place," Reiter said, pointing Esilis's gaze at a bowl infused with crystals so it would always keep its food warm.
She simply pushed his chin down, tilting his eyes to the price tag. "And an expensive place," she added.
Seiris, with two militia guards waiting outside the shop, took his own survey of the place. "You certainly have an eye for quality."
As Marina's friends took a look around the store, the captain emerged from the back as if in the middle of taking inventory. He grinned at them, showing no sign of the hunter beneath that hungered after their magic. The only tell was a slight scent of predatory desire within his emotions.
"I'm glad to meet you all," he said, shaking hooves with each of them. When Seiris approached, he gave an extra bow of respect. "I was worried Marina would be wasting your time, but I'm overjoyed you're in my shop, Governor."
Seiris gestured to Marina. "She's a friend and an icon of Marblestop. I wasn't going to let a northerner whisk her away without a first meeting."
The captain laughed. "The name's Orous Argentine. Friends call me Oro, and mares call me reliable."
"Sure." Esilis snorted. "We say the same about Reiter."
This time the whole room laughed, at Reiter's expense of course, though he didn't seem to mind. Though once settled, Marina noticed a change in Seiris's scent. Again, it was flat, plain magic with no emotions written on it.
"Marina's put her faith in you, you know?" Seiris patted the captain on the shoulder. "Starting anew in another village is tough."
"We've worked before in worse situations," he replied. "Take only from what you can do, and you'll always gain more. A saying my father used to tell me."
"Oh?" Seiris replied. "I suppose you helped her when she was left on her own."
"Best I could do for a friend." The captain nodded grimly, contorting his disguise's face into a frown at the mention of the death of Marina's father.
"Oro taught me when to sell what at which market, which merchant sold the cheapest, and which one bought the most," Marina added to the conversation.
"A stallion like you must be excellent at strategy," Seiris grinned. "Ever play chess?"
Marina and traded a glance at the captain. Why chess? She noticed the captain's face; his expression didn't even flinch.
"The game's a good start for strategy," he said. "It teaches long-term planning and caution, but assumes an even playing field."
Seiris raised a brow. "Oh? And what's wrong with an even field? It makes things interesting."
"Because in my experience," he replied, "the battle is won in the preparation. By the time I see my enemy, I've already won."
The conversation between the two isolated them from every pony else. Esilis and Reiter, the few customers looking through the store, they all watched as two minds tried to size each other up. Marina didn't like being unable to smell Seiris's emotions, and she could tell it was something that threw the captain off as well. Regardless, he had more experience reading ponies through his other senses.
Seiris laughed, even as his inquisitive eyes quickly focused on the captain again. "And do you think you could beat me in a game?"
"This will be fun," Reiter inserted himself. "My father always beats me in chess, so I'm always trying to learn new strategies."
Marina raised a brow at that. "You don't seem to have a strategic fibre in your body."
Esilis laughed. "He did say he always losses."
Reiter glared at the two mares but turned back to Seiris. "I bet you must be good, huh?"
The Governor shrugged. "To be honest, Iridi beats me more often than not. But, I'd like to think that I've picked up enough."
"I'm afraid I don't have a board with me, however," the captain replied to Seiris's challenge. "I'm not sure if you mind..."
Marina smelled, only for a second, a spark of excitement dancing around in Seiris's magic. "Oh not at all. In fact, it probably makes things easier." Reiter stepped back and looked at the both of them, watching with the others with wide eyes of amazement.
As the challenged, the captain gave his first move. "Knight to F3."
"Pawn to D5."
"Pawn to G3."
Reiter whispered into Marina's ear. "How'd you meet a pony like this?"
"It just happened," she whispered back absent-mindedly, her focus on the two ponies who were now waging a game of chess at a store counter. The few ponies coming in and out to shop or browse were now intruding on the meeting as well, listening as the game unfolded.
Marina could smell their emotions. Some were genuine fans of the game, trying to track the movements in their mind. Others boasted lies to their friends, trying to explain what happened as if they too were as good as Oro and Seiris. Still, amidst those savoury emotions, Marina couldn't pick out anything from Seiris.
"Bishop to E6" Seiris replied to the captain's move. Marina barely knew the rules of the game, but her hunter-drone played as if each move was breathing.
Oro's eyes narrowed, and Marina could tell by the scent of humbled pride that he was forced to take a retreat. "Queen to C1."
"Bishop to D5."
They traded more moves, shifting pawns around a couple more times, as far as Marina could tell. Reiter listened intensely too, his eyes flicking around as if he was trying to place each piece on the board.
"Bishop takes Knight," Oro said. A sharp scent in his magic told Marina he had gone offensive, even if only slightly.
"Queen takes bishop."
"Pawn to A5."
Now their moves were a blur of words. If she couldn't sense the captain's magic, she would've guessed they were simply bluffing, putting on a show for the customers to see. But, each move was genuine, and they were made all the more frustrating because she couldn't guess how Seiris was feeling.
The only thing she knew was that this wasn't just a social visit. Seiris may have trusted her well enough, but he wasn't a fool. Of all the ponies she knew, he was the only one she should have expected this display from. This was all a test to ensure that he was putting his faith into the right trader. Were they not both Changelings, she would have congratulated him for such caution. But no matter what the outcome of the game, he'd never be able to stop her hunt.
The captain paused only for a second, before making his next move. "King to G2"
"Pawn to G5."
"Pawn takes pawn," attacked the captain.
"Queen takes pawn."
"Pawn to E5."
The traded for smaller moves again, taking pawns and exchanging their queens in an attempt to close on the other's king. By the time they stop calling out their moves, the store was silent.
"So, who won that?" Esilis asked, rightfully as confused as Marina was.
Seiris smiled and started laughing, and then turned to Marina. "You have a good friend, Marina. Even if we did run out of pieces to call checkmate, he knows his stuff."
"I see now what kind of mind it took to change the council's mind," the captain added. He winked at Marina. "Keep an eye out for this guy, and be glad you're friends."
Marina nodded to them both. "I'm glad you two get along. We should get together later this week for some games, if we have the time, of course."
Esilis chuckled. "I barely play checkers."
"We'll talk about it later," Marina said. "But before that, Oro and I have some planning to do."
Seiris nodded and motioned Reiter and Esilis to follow. "I think we can entrust Oro with our friend. They do have important business, after all."
They continued on the way out, Seiris pulling Reiter in to share an idea. "Speaking of which, Reiter, I wanted to ask a favour involving a festival I was planning in a few weeks."
They both nodded and waved farewell to Marina. They were planning to sample some northern desserts, including flavoured cream frozen in bowls of magic crystals. Marina was excited to go with them, only to see if the cream in the dessert held onto magic the same way cheese did. They were, after all, both made from dairy. But she did need to plan with her captain and organize which lieutenants would take replace them once they took off with their prey.
Lunti slipped a pin into her mane, holding it as a bun. She turned around and looked over her dress in the bathroom mirror. The dress was mostly Riverfork in style, though decorative frills and a tight belt around the waist were replaced by a Marblestop sash, made of tightly woven cotton and dyed light blue and violet.
"I used to go to events like these with my father," she sniffed.
Reiter smiled. "You look too beautiful to be sad tonight. I helped Seiris plan Marblestop's Autumn Fire Festival. It's the opening night of the Marblestop District's main plaza, and Marina's farewell party."
"You're such a good friend," Lunti said, looking down at her dress, trying to even out some wrinkles. "I hope she realizes how much you do to make every pony happy."
"Marina has her own worries." Reiter put his hoof around her and led Lunti out to their carriage. "I can't imagine what it's like, reviving their village after the destruction you all faced."
Lunti stepped into the carriage first, and then Reiter. The drivers were personally chosen by Cedar Pine, Reiter's father, to take the two to the Marblestop ball. They were representing the wealthy families of the village and needed to arrive with no delays or complications.
"Esilis will be there, won't she?" Lunti looked at Reiter.
He gave her a funny look. "Of course, she's one of the ponies representing the Shopkeeper's Union."
Lunti didn't say anything else, but that made her question seemed weirder to Reiter. "Why ask?"
"It's nothing," Lunti said. "You two just spend a lot of time together."
"Look, Lu-lu," Reiter said. He never used it around any pony else, but he knew she loved hearing that nickname. "I can't help you with whatever happened with between you and your father until you're ready to tell me, but for now, I'm here for you. All the way."
"Thank you," she whispered, leaning closer to him. "I'm glad I at least have you."
The carriage bumped as they went off the dirt road leading out of Riverfork. The path almost instantly transformed into a hard-paved road. The soil around Riverfork was too soft and fertile to build stone roads, nor did it have the limestone needed to make the mixture Marblestop used for caementine, a sort of liquid that could harden back into stone.
But Marblestop crafters were famous throughout the river villages for their skill. Even with the limited resources, they found a way to build their neighbourhood as if it was Marblestop itself. From the carriage, Reiter could see its organization. It was made of circles within circles, shrinking toward the plaza at the centre of their district.
Caementine houses reflected the orange setting sun with their plain white walls, making the district like one giant sunflower. Lunti gazed out of the window, amazed at how brightly colored the festival was. Ropes stretching over the streets hung painted lanterns, and every house placed a set of incense sticks by their windows.
"It does look like a village of fire," she said, amazed.
At the centre was the plaza, though not as Lunti expected it. Riverfork's plazas packed their shops in close. The ponies of Marblestop spread their stores around the park's rich green grass, crisscrossed with smooth paths of caementine.
Spaced throughout were fountains with large crystals embedded inside the bricks, glowing with magic that probably controlled the water spewing into the air. Though this evening, the fountains only sprayed a mixture of oil that ignited by some hidden enchanted gemstone.
"The Governor's here to greet you, Reiter," one of the drivers shouted from outside the carriage.
Reiter extended his hoof to Lunti. "I know things are still hard with your father, but I'm going to need to ask a favour of you tonight."
She took his eyes in hers. "What is it?"
He flashed his teeth in a wide grin. "Enjoy yourself."
"I can't believe you've never drunk your own village's wine before," she said, patting her on the back to help the wine go down.
Marina coughed, swallowing the bitter citrus liquid. "My father never drank," she wiped her mouth. "So after he died, I didn't really know anything about it." She looked in her bowl. Unlike the curved blown glass Riverfork used, Marblestop ponies preferred porcelain pots of various sizes, made from a variant of the traditional caementine mix.
Riverfork wine was nicer too, though just barely. Thinking on it now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to its taste. And the relaxing effect afterwards, when she had enough, was also pleasant.
The two mares started up small talk with other ponies. Some were friends of Marblestop's officers from other villages. There were plenty of northern traders, excited to spend one last day in Riverfork before leaving with their trade fleet tomorrow. Others were from farther west of the river, beyond Marblestop. And even fewer still were the eastern ponies who had come from the fishing villages near the sea.
Eventually, they spotted their friend. Reiter, as expected, walked through the plaza with a hoof around Lunti. She could smell all the emotions in the air from the party, but Esilis's cut through the air like a spear point. She kept it hidden, even from herself, but somewhere were feelings too conflicted for just a friend.
Marina wished it was more refined, not a chaotic soup of insecurities, but she let it lie. Because she too felt something. This mare, a traitor to her father and secret mistress of council member Chevron, was taking her pawn. Friendship wasn't close to heart as it was for Esilis, but Marina could not deny how useful meeting Reiter had been. His family controlled the village's transportation on land, and he freely used his wealth and power to help his friends.
That mare, Marina thought to herself, is no better than I am. She feeds on others' affection for her own gain. Chevron's, her father's, and even Reiter, they were all pieces of a chess match to her.
Suddenly, Marina brought herself to focus on the task at hoof. Like a chess piece being sacrificed to initiate the winning strategy, she'd let Lunti have Reiter for the night. If she wants to play at Changeling, then I shouldn't disappoint her tonight.
Esilis grabbed her hoof and pulled her aside toward the edge of the plaza. The jolt of motion shook her wine and made the lanterns blur around her head.
"Marina, what was it like when you first met Reiter?" Esilis asked.
Marina raised a brow. "Well, he invited me to eat at his house as an apology for insulting me. I accepted it because he was rich and I needed a place to stay for the night."
"I see," Esilis lowered her head and let go of Marina. She slumped against the corner of a store. Its alley stretched behind her like a bottomless vessel for her emotions.
"When I first met him, Reiter tried to make me fly," Esilis told her, chuckling as she looked at her incomplete wings. "He tried everything. Wing extensions, catapults, fake 'sky magic' crystals, he bought them all for me, just because he thought I looked too sad."
Marina bit her tongue. It stung as the alcohol left in her mouth seeped into the wound, but she needed something to take her mind off how savoury Esilis's emotions were. There was love with confusion and sadness and anger, and it was just wandering aimlessly in her mind.
"I know he and Lunti have something more than friendship, and she's gone through a rough time too, but," Esilis put her hoof around Marina and hugged her tight just for comfort. "But, it's wrong to want their relationship for myself."
It's too much. Marina wanted to shake off the feeling but it'd ruin the moment and saturate her emotions with confusion. All Marina wanted, needed, was a taste of this magic.
"I don't know what to say, Esilis." Marina pulled the hug apart, just enough to look into her friend's eyes. "There are feelings I can't understand either, but when I feel them, I just know I must have it."
She rushed in and pressed her lips against Esilis's, stealing away just a drop of magic. She craved more suddenly, her appetite ignited by her friend's feelings, and she almost took too much.
A burning struck her cheek suddenly. Marina looked at her friend and realized she had been slapped across the face.
"What in the name of the Spirits was that?" Esilis clutched her ram's head necklace. It was the same silver-painted brass idol she wore to work, but she had managed to give it a bright new silver chain.
"I just-" Marina started, but she honestly didn't know what excuse to use.
Esilis shook her head. "I was talking about Reiter and you--" she paused. "Nevermind. I'm in no position to judge some pony else's feelings."
But her body language spoke differently. Now, Marina noticed, she was on the defensive. She leaned back and avoided eye contact.
"It was a bad idea to bring up our feelings," Esilis continued. "Let's just go see what Seiris and Voxa are up to."
Only a few. Six months of living among the ponies, and she wanted only a few. The captain grinned at his princess' caution. Princess Spectra. He wondered how comfortable she felt around her real name now. It didn't matter.
He clicked and chattered to his hunter-drones at a frequency the ponies' primitive ears would not be able to hear. He ordered them to quickly take the place of the servants and security, commanding them to move slowly around the party until the pack surrounded both targets.
The first and primary one was out in the open, and even the princess had taken notice. The other was not as easy. Though his scent carried a unique pattern of wistful wishes, knowing where the prey was at all times didn't matter when he was surrounded with a randomly selected group of security. It made infiltrating his protection very difficult.
Tonight, he had managed to randomly choose guards that had not been replaced by the pack, forcing them to scramble this new tactic.
The captain clicked a high-frequency order, sending two young drones to switch positions with a patrol unit. If they followed the same path, then within the hour the secondary target would be in reach.
He clattered to the princess' personal lieutenant. "I leave it to you to switch places with our princess. Do not get caught."
"Of course not," she snickered, her voice already slightly altered to some pony's vocal cords. "You really should reconsider your disguises. In Riverfork, it's easy for females to go unnoticed."
"Not my style, lieutenant," the captain replied. "Now go, your window of opportunity's getting smaller."
The four of them walked down to the statue of a bird in the centre of the plaza. It was made of solid bronze, with barely noticeable pipes that blew oil from its wings.
Reiter nudged Marina as approached its light. "I thought the phoenix spirit meant death."
"It means rebirth, life after death," she corrected. "With autumn already on its way, the festival is one huge prayer to the phoenix spirit to bring back life after winter ends."
Marina wondered if it were true. Her distant memories implanted by her egg-dreams didn't include much details on the forces that controlled the seasons. If such spirit existed, were there others that the hive could also appeal to? She leaned over and looked at Esilis. It wasn't coincidence she decided to let Reiter and Lunti stand between them.
"Hey Lunti, would you like to come with me to the powder room?" Marina asked, casting a glance at Esilis. "Lipstick tends to stick to these porcelain cups more than glass."
"Uh, sure," she replied, letting go of Reiter's hoof. "If you want, I could show you a combination that really helps it hold its place."
"You two go on and try the olives," Marina said to Esilis and Reiter. "They're especially nice with the bread."
She tossed a furtive wink to Esilis before taking Lunti with her to the public townhouse at the edge of the plaza. For all public events, that building was where the organization took place. Dinners, receptions, and wine tasting were held around the townhouse before moving to the open space, and any private business could be taken care of in one of its many rooms.
Unlike Riverfork construction which mixed lumber and stone, the townhouse's walls were made of polished stone bricks. The floors tiles had been glazed over in unrefined Marblestop glass, which was filled with impurities that sparkled like the stars. It took less work than Riverfork glass, and in Marina's opinion, looked much better.
As the two looked for an empty powder room, Lunti grazed her hoof against the heavy tapestries that draped the walls. They were gifts from villages from every part of the river, each with unique patterns of fish, forests, grasslands, flowers, and so many more she couldn't count.
"So, Reiter said he worked with Seiris to make this festival possible," Lunti started chatting up the stairs. "When our carriage was ushered by the guards, Seiris was there to greet us."
"He is the host after all," Marina said.
Lunti grinned. "I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him. But, now I know why you spend so much time working with him."
"What?" Marina stopped, right outside a room with its door wide open. "I don't like what you're trying to imply here."
"Ease up," Lunti raised a hoof up between them in defence. "Not trying to spread rumours, just wanted to say I'm happy for you and your village. Being with Reiter has made me appreciate other ponies' lives."
Marina focused her nose on Lunti's magic. "I'm not like that with Seiris."
"Well, you should try being more outgoing, then." There was a shift in Lunti's emotions. What was once some shallow amusement became a selfish, personal joy. But Marina didn't show anything in her expression. If by now, she still hadn't learned her lesson, then she deserved what was coming.
She motioned into the powder room. "Let's talk about stallions when we look the part for it."
The room made space for four seats along a countertop where dishes of makeup powder and mirrors had been left as a courtesy for all the mares attending the festival. From scent alone, Marina could tell Espera Voxa had selected them. A good thing too, because she couldn't imagine Iridi or Seiris trying to choose a mare's makeup.
A knock came on the door just as they sat down. Lunti whipped her head back and shouted. "We just got in here. I'm afraid you'll need to find another room."
"Oh don't be like that, Lunti," Marina countered, getting up and going for the door. "We're all mares here, and there's still two more chairs for them. Besides..."
Lunti's eyes bulged in fear, but her body tensed up so much she couldn't reel back from what she was looking at.
"...we're pretty close acquaintances with them." Marina smiled as two ponies who looked and moved exactly like them walked into the room.
"Now please hold still," said Lunti's copy. "We wouldn't want that lipstick to smear all over our pretty face."
Council member Chevron walked along the paved road around the plaza, enjoying the wines and foods offered by the stores that surrounded the green centre. All night, the six guards followed him. They wore brigandines, thick and well-woven cloth armours with plates of bronze riveted to the fabric.
But to the captain it didn't matter how well he equipped his guards; weapons were banned from the festival. The rest of the pack was in position, waiting for the captain to give the signal. Watching from the night-shrouded rooftops, he clicked his vocal cords as soon as Chevron approached a table with Marblestop wines.
"I so sorry!" exclaimed a mare as she tripped and spilt a bottle onto the council member. The store's owner rushed out to see what was the matter. His voice raised, hissing scalding retorts at the mare.
Chevron waved them both away. "I was likely to smell of wine by tomorrow, one way or another." He motioned to his guards, signalling that he was moving on.
"Please, sir, everything is on the house tonight for the celebrations," the store owner said. "Why don't you let us get out the best vintage for you and your companions?"
Even from so far away, if he focused hard enough, he could smell excitement in the guard's magic. Ponies had such weak desires but still seemed to struggle to control their urges.
"I didn't hire them to get drunk," Chevron said sternly. "Even now, Changelings are out in the forests, hiding where they can't see us. So excuse me if I take my safety very seriously."
The captain grinned. "Smart pony," he whispered to himself. But it didn't matter. Ponies were feeble and weak of will.
"The Governor has troops all over the district," the store owner said while the mare prepared small porcelain cups on one of the tables. The smell of the wine took the guard's attention.
Seeing it was better to satisfy their appetite just a bit, Chevron accepted the hospitality. "Only one," he told his protection. "I want you all walking straight for the rest of the night."
They drank, including Chevron, and they all coughed as the bitter drink burned their mouths. The burning was the trick, masking a small dose of poison that would lull them to sleep. Or, if they were overly sensitive, send them running for the latrine. Either way, they would be intoxicated long before the festival was in full swing. He just needed to wait.
I got mine. The captain's ears stood up at Spectra's voice. Her high-pitched clicks confirmed she was out of the district and able to at least alter her vocal cords without being interrupted. That meant she had succeeded in taking the primary target, and ahead of schedule too.
If a lieutenant had beaten him to the prey, he would have felt insulted. He may have even killed the Changeling as a show of dominance. But with the princess, there was nothing but pride. She was certainly capable and would be no worse a leader for the hive than the Queen.
Now he watched the crowd with curiosity, taking his time to wait for the poison to settle in. Marina and Lunti, masqueraded by other the other lieutenants, rejoined with their pony friends as if nothing was the matter. After half an hour there was the Phoenix Dancers, a display of fire and agility by a troupe of Marblestop performers. Afterwards, the musicians invited the crowd to try a simpler dance, filling the park with couples swing around in each other's hooves.
Funnily enough, the vigilant council member was the first to collapse, most likely helped on by the effect of the other wines he had had. Slowly and sloppily his guards dragged his sleeping body to the plaza's townhouse. The captain chattered to another drone waiting there, making sure the room they had set up was still unoccupied.
He followed along the roofs, finally sneaking into the townhouse by going down through a waterway behind the building. He rushed to his position under the room on the first floor, Chevron's room, and waited. Ten seconds, then a minute. Two minutes had passed when a hatch above him finally spun open, dropping the council member down along with his bed.
The captain caught the stallion with magic but let the bed thump onto the ground.
"One of you, take his place," he chattered back up to the drones. "Have the rest clean up here and meet at the docks." They clicked in response, confirming his orders.
The captain then hoisted the council member onto his back. The trap was sprung with a little less grace than he would have liked--there wasn't even time to test trap door before the festival--but it still worked.
"Alright council member," he strained as he carried the stallion through the waterways to the other side of the district. "I hope you like your well-earned vacation. We went through so much work to put it together."
Spectra woke up on the other side of the river. What happened last night?
She shielded the sun from her eyes as she looked back to Riverfork. Ships from the north were leaving, and on it, was a copy of her and a hunter-drone playing as Oro.
Her eyes widened. "What am I doing here? I have to get Lunti before the ships sail out of reach." The princess scanned her eyes for a rowboat she could load Lunti's sleeping body onto. A pony her size was too heavy to carry across the river.
"Easy lass." A rough hoof grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back from the shore. It was the groundskeeper but dressed in a Marblestop militia armour. "Fleet's leaving sooner than expected, so you won't be sneaking the prey out of the cargo after all."
"What's going on, and what are you wearing?" she asked him.
"The captain said it fits nicely." He frowned. "As for what happened, all I can say is try remembering what happened after you drained that mare of most of her magic."
Drained? She only remembered tying up Lunti and stuffing her into a bag before dragging her through the narrow waterways Seiris had built to supply the Marblestop District with water. They arrived on the ship, but Lunti wouldn't stop squirming around, and almost woke the other traders already sleeping on Oro's ship.
How did she get her to shut up? Spectra wracked her brain for the memory, running through her whole night again. There was wine, she talked to her friends, then lured Lunti away. But one memory stuck from that night. Spectra touched her lips.
"I have to say, that's an interesting way to drain magic," the groundskeeper commented. "I don't doubt some ponies might even like being hunted if they knew that's how you like to do it."
And she had done it again with Lunti. She had pressed her mouth against Lunti's and sucked the fear and desperation right out of her. Spectra licked her lips. She still tasted a hint of hope that some pony, Reiter or Chevron or her father, would save her.
Spectra snarled. She had drained enough from Lunti to render her unconscious, but having tasted so much of her emotions, she wanted to end the mare. She realized she was wrong to compare her to a Changeling. Lunti was nothing but a parasite, a leech that could do nothing if it wasn't biting on another unsuspecting creature.
"After I drank her magic," Spectra said to the groundskeeper. "How'd I end up here?"
"You just showed up," he answered. "Always happens to Changelings. Happened to me, to every captain, and even to the Queen when she was your age."
"What happened, exactly?" she pressed for clarification.
"Had your first drink," he said. "Came back slurring your words around, raving about parasites or something. I couldn't tell a thing you were saying."
"The captain showed up," the groundskeeper continued, slowly walking with the river to keep the trade fleet in view. "Said he put the other pony in the ship with your target. Don't know why you didn't just take them to the nest."
"Too heavy," Spectra replied, following closely behind him. "And the rest of the pack wasn't around to help carry. They had to clean up any loose ends and make sure no pony suspected we had infiltrated them."
"Smart." Spectra expected the groundskeeper to say something else, but that was all.
He turned and looked back to the river. "When you fell asleep I had the captain order some hunter-drones to carry out the last step." He pointed to the ship in the middle of the trade fleet.
It was Oro's ship, and it had split off from the rest of the fleet toward the centre of the river. Two rowboats launched off and made its way to the shore with haste. The ship would cover their escape so no pony in the fleet would see them leaving and raise questions for the lieutenants who had taken the role of Marina and Oro.
"Come on, we're to meet them at the shore," the groundskeeper said, already starting to gallop.
Spectra followed. "And then it's a march to the hive?"
"It's your march to the hive," he laughed. "I'm taking a nap back at the nest."
The captain grunted through gritted teeth as he and the remaining hunter-drones in the pack dragged the two ponies onto the shore. They were far from the fleet now, but nevertheless, they wanted to get into the tree cover as soon as possible.
The female was dead silent, and twice the captain thought to check her pulse to confirm she was still actually alive. The male was annoyingly active, however.
"Don't tell me it takes a few words to weigh you down, captain." He caught sight of the princess with the groundskeeper, waiting for them just behind the trees.
The captain saluted them both. "We're ready for the flight home, your highness."
Spectra raised a brow. "The pack just left the village. I don't want anyone dropping the prey, so get some rest and be ready within the hour."
The hunter-drones nodded and laid down their captives, rushing into the shade of the trees to find a place to sit and a trap full of prey.
"You?" Chevron growled at Spectra. "You were that Marblestop girl that Seiris brought with him to the council meeting."
He struggled with the ropes tightly binding up his limbs. "Is he one of you? Were the refugees all a ploy to destroy my village too?"
Marina looked into his eyes and flashed him a wolfish smirk. "It doesn't really matter. For you, nothing will matter anymore."
"You'll have to kill me before I let you take me," he struggled, but given his position, every word only seemed more and more humorous.
The groundskeeper nudged Spectra. "Could just save us all the suffering and drain him to sleep, lass."
"Probably for the best," Spectra said, though looking at the stallion one more time made her hesitate. "Though I'm not putting my mouth on that."
"What do you mean-" Chevron's face twisted from anger to pain as Spectra gripped him with levitation and pulled his magic directly from his flesh. His screaming should have been loud enough to be heard across the river, but the groundskeeper reacted with lightning speed and shoved his head into the sand of the riverbank before he could make a peep.
"For your sake," the groundskeeper relaxed as Chevron's body went limp. "I hope he doesn't wake up on the flight back."
Spectra nodded and noticed Lunti staring at what they had done to Chevron. Her eyes shouted in terror, but there was another mix of emotions along her magic, so strong everything was too jumbled to read.
"I should probably knock you out again too." Spectra took Lunti's face in her hoof. "But it's been so soon, and I don't want to lose you after all this."
She hoisted Lunti onto her hooves and shoved her roughly towards the forest. "So you'll want to start moving because, trust me, it's a long way to the hive."
Descent into darkness. She had expected to feel uneasy, returning to the hive. Though she had already transformed her body back into its original form, the sensation of the surface was what felt natural to her.
The lichen patches along the cave walls were dim, fuzzy lights compared to the shimmering stars. And the life that thrived here, the vile lizards and rats, meant nothing to her now. But it made her feel safe. Everything in this little underground world was hers. The drones listened to her command, the ponies were her prisoners and prey, and no violent action by surface competitors could reach so far into the depths of the hive.
The pack bobbed through the stone formations that filled the cave. When she was young, such things seemed like wonderful defences. But now her mind was sharper, and her instincts read straight through the obstacles, forming the path meters ahead in her mind.
Of course, the same could not be said for the prey. With their weight and binds, it took three days of trotting and flying to get back, and though the male had come to terms with his situation, he did not make the trip any easier. Unaccustomed to the utter darkness of the hive he tripped and stumbled even at the points when the tunnel was straight, falling over rocks and stalagmites.
Spectra hissed at hunter-drones to force them along. Scrapes and bruises wouldn't damage their magic, and she was eager to see what her sisters had brought to the hive.
A wave of nostalgia swarmed Spectra's nose as her pack entered the main cavern of the hive. The slightly sour air from the glowing fungal patches and the ever-present sounds of life scrapping to survive in the dark recesses of the hive brought memories from when she had first learned to hunt.
"Princess!"
Spectra turned her head to a worker-drone hurrying across the cavern. She immediately noticed the small differences now. The drone ran from a tunnel that had not existed before. In other parts of the hive, where there was once solid stone, there were the formations of new tunnels.
The worker-drone collapsed on the floor and bent his head to the ground. "We finish cavern, larder. New place for prey."
"A larder?" Spectra raised a brow, turning to the captain. "He means a prison of my own, for my prey?"
The captain nodded. "You must grow independent, and thus keep to your own stockpile of magic."
Spectra expected at least a few words of welcome. But it seemed her mother the Queen had no time to teach her daughters the little things. The hive was still growing under her mother's command. If she wanted to rule it one day, she had to keep up by herself.
"I've drained them both enough on the way here," Spectra said, casting a glance at Lunti and Chevron. "Take them to it, then. I'll be down to inspect it myself after I've met with my mother and sisters."
The captained echoed a series of clicks through the hive, commanding the hunter-drones to follow the new tunnel to their princess' own prey pantry. The two ponies weren't hard to lead anymore. Robbed of sight, their most valued attribute, their other senses were so dulled by pampered surface life that they had no way of knowing what went on around them.
"I wonder what else has happened," Spectra said to herself. There was no set time on when they needed to return with prey. For all she knew, she was the first. Or, Tenacity and her other sisters had already returned. She was interested to hear which one of them blundered at Marblestop.
Spectra raised her nose. Being born on the surface might have made ponies' senses dull, but it only enhanced Spectra's. Where she once struggled to track her sisters and hunt for the littlest of prey, she could now clearly see everything purely on scent and sound alone.
"Majesta and Tenacity," she noted, tilting her head around to refocus on the distant reaches of the hive. But Halfwing wasn't anywhere in the range of her senses.
She never liked Halfwing anyways. That sister she had fought with since the hatching caverns kept her bitterness, long after they had left their birthing pits. And even though it was Tenacity who had ripped off one of her wings, she still had enough hatred for the both of them.
Spectra shrugged and started wandering the hive. She didn't care which sister she met first, though, between her other sisters, she enjoyed Tenacity's company the most. Regardless, she was curious to see how her prodigal sister, Majesta, had managed in the surface world.
The hive's new caverns managed to disorient Spectra's developed awareness. Nothing could compare to the vastness of the surface world, but looping tunnels and cave systems managed to throw her off for a while. She felt compelled as a princess to inspect the worker-drones' work.
Wherever they worked, they left their marks. Divots existed where the worker-drones had placed their acid slime. Because of their weaker stature, magic, and inability to act on their own, the only benefit of the worker-drones was their acidic saliva.
Spectra realized she never noticed them working before. But now, after having had to work for herself, everything jumped out at her. There were still streaks in the stone where acidic residue was left behind to trickle into the cracks of the stone. Changeling acid wasn't strong, but there was more than enough to spread across an entire wall and erode it away slowly.
Spectra wondered. Her species enjoyed discreet, tactful actions, but perhaps not everything needed to be done so slowly. A few hammers and mining chisels could carve away at the acid-eaten walls with no effort.
Spectra expelled the air out of her lungs and squeezed through the narrow opening to the new cavern. It would be days before the acid wore away enough to make the cavern easily accessible. She almost thought she would have to take another breath and crush herself in the cavern entrance, but in the final push, the Changeling acid was wet enough for her to slip through and stumble in front of her sisters.
There were four seats around a table of stone that melded with the cave floor. They almost looked like the thrones the council members at Riverfork sat on, only less polished in its designs. Her eyes distracted, Spectra slipped on a puddle of Changeling acid as she entered.
She looked up, rubbing her head and seeing Tenacity standing over her. "Hello, sis."
Spectra reached up and dragged her sister down. "Tena! Glad to see the surface didn't eat you up."
"Ha!" her sister laughed, pushing them apart. "I should be saying that to you. I've been waiting months for you come back." Tenacity pointed her horn at Majesta. "She only came back a few weeks ago."
Spectra stood up. "So, how'd the hunt go for you two?"
"Perfect," Tenacity beamed. "Though I bet you can't guess how many ponies I brought back."
"It's not the amount that matters," Majesta said. "I only needed one."
Spectra nodded. "Mine sort of came in a pair."
Their sister returned to her chair, leaning into the stone's carved shaped. "I caught eight," she said with a sinister grin.
Spectra thought she was lying at first. Eight? She would have had to march them all to the hive, as there weren't enough hunter-drones to carry that much weight. Still, Majesta spoke as if it were true.
"They barely have any love in them," Majesta scolded. "You grabbed the first stallions who doted on that disguise of yours." Spectra could tell her sister was mostly annoyed by Tena's boasting, but she spoke so defensively that she wondered if she was a bit sensitive about her single catch.
"How'd you replace so many ponies?" Spectra asked, taking a seat on one of the thrones.
Majesta threw her hooves over her head. "This will be wonderful to hear again."
"I didn't bother," Tenacity answered, choosing to ignore Majesta. "We hunted in a mountain city further north of the river. It was so secluded there was no way word would spread of our actions there."
"A city?" Spectra asked. Nothing in the groundskeeper's notes mentioned cities. Villages, towns, hamlets, but the word city never came up.
"Imagine a town, but much bigger," Tenacity answered. "About three or four hundred thousand ponies live there."
Spectra's jaw dropped. Combined with Marblestop's refugees, she estimated Riverfork didn't exceed fifty thousand ponies. She tried imagining what the city would look like, with housing districts as vast as Riverfork's farms, but the image failed to come to mind.
"Still reckless," Majesta countered, slapping a hoof on the table. "You could've taken time to establish relationships so you wouldn't have to start from scratch the next time you hunted."
"And if I did, I'd be stuck with one stallion like you."
Spectra decided she didn't like Majesta's bristling magic. Sitting by her at the table, she saw that her sister still had the size and strength of a brute. She and Tenacity were similarly sized, slightly taller than their drones, but Majesta towered over them still. She was somewhere between them and their mother's height, with an equally terrifying reserve of magic.
"So, I guess it's no surprise the cripple's the last one to show up."
"Underestimate her and you'll be dead," Majesta warned.
Spectra was taken aback by the sudden threat. Majesta was strong but never stood up for anyone else but herself. Spectra opened her mouth to say something back, but Tenacity caught her shoulder.
"Let her finish."
Tenacity suddenly deferring, even to Majesta, was unusual. Spectra sat back and listened.
"I don't believe our sister will be returning to the hive," Majesta continued. "I ran into the captain of her pack during my return to the hive. He was badly wounded until he couldn't walk. Had I returned a day or two later, he would have died."
Those words shocked Spectra. Captains were not chosen by their followers, nor by birthright. The only quality was the Queen's favour, which could only be gained through unmatched cunning and depravity among one's siblings. How could a Changeling like that suffer so much damage?
"What happened to him?" Spectra asked.
"Wondered the same. He said Halfwing went crazy the moment she was allowed to hunt in Marblestop," she said. "The youngest hunter-drones obeyed her without question, and together they managed to force most of the others to submit."
"Instead of hunting," Spectra realized, "she started attacking every pony in the village."
Majesta cut her story short. "You heard?"
"Heard?" Spectra chuckled at her fortune. "I dare say I was in the thick of it. I disguised myself as a Marblestop blacksmith when I went to Riverfork. Halfwing's mental break caused more trouble for me than you can imagine."
Tenacity and Majesta traded glances now, surprise written clearly on the faces as well as their scent.
Tenacity nudged her. "Sis, you don't seem worried enough about this."
"She messed up," Spectra said. "Why should I worry?"
Tenacity furrowed her brow. "Because mother hasn't considered it a failure. Halfwing's taken an entire village in the name of the hive, and from what her captain said, she's there to stay. Hidden or not, she's gotten too strong too fast."
Spectra turned to Majesta. "Is this real? Surely mother can't accept what she's done!"
Her bigger sister simply shrugged. "Mother's power here is secure. If Halfwing proves to be better for the hive's future by starting her own splinter hive at this age, none of us will even get see the throne."
Spectra gritted her fang's at Majesta's assessment. For the past six months, she thought she had fed off her sister's failure, using the refugees to turn Marina Fisher into a hero, an idol among the Marblestop survivors. Even if she had succeeded, it was all moot compared to the range of power Halfwing had now.
She went back to the groundskeeper's lessons. Marblestop was a village of thirty-thousand ponies. If Seiris's consensus of the refugees was even remotely accurate, then no more than a third of that population made it to Riverfork.
Twenty thousand. That left twenty thousand ponies as Halfwing's larder. A fraction of that was more than all their hunts combined.
Spectra shouted, blasting a bolt of green magic at the table. "How did she manage to take a whole village?" She seethed, slamming a hoof against the stone.
"Don't get worked up," Tenacity grabbed Spectra's face to calm her down. "The captain Majesta saved agreed to help us. He's rallying every lieutenant he can dominate to make us a pack big enough to tear Marblestop open and find Halfwing."
"Yes," Majesta confirmed. "As has my own captain."
She tilted her head up and Spectra almost wanted to reel back. The cold, heartless eyes of her sister were replaced with some kind of bloodlust, fueled by the primal thirst to secure her power and eliminate a rival. Spectra saw it and felt it pumping in her chest too.
They were sisters, family, born together in the same hole. But as princesses, the strongest instinct implanted in them from their egg-dreams was a need to become queens.
Majesta's fangs glistened and reflected the pale light of the small fungal patches growing in the cavern. "It's time to go to war."
"So princess Halfwing drove those refugees to us," Spectra's captain summarized after she had finished telling him what she heard from her sisters. "I'm impressed she managed to interfere with your hunt along the way."
"Captain, I am your princess," Spectra growled at Halfwing's name. "My sister is a failure as a Changelings and a leader. It was sheer chance her actions caused us trouble. She is my rival and deserves death for getting in my way." They paced around a small feeding area just outside Spectra's larder.
She didn't need to try hard to read the pride in her captain's magic. The hunt had bonded them, master and subordinate. Her will would become his actions, and he would share in her success.
"In that case, I'll handle gathering more hunter-drones as well," he said. "If princess Majesta's pack is any larger than ours, she will have the credit at the end of the war."
"Do it," Spectra agreed. "And, before you go, give me counsel. What would my mother do in this situation?"
"In a war?" The captain scratched his head. "The hive's had relative peace during your mother's rule. Previous captains have talked about war with a griffon prince, however. It happened when the Queen was just a princess like you."
"And?"
"I don't have the egg-dream," he answered, "but I heard that the Queen back then brought with her a herd of captured ponies so she wouldn't go hungry during the siege."
He pointed his horn to the cage door that opened to the prey's pens. "I know you'll probably want to feed to relax, my advice to you is to keep one alive enough to take with you when we leave."
"And the rest of the pack?" Spectra asked. "I won't ignore the importance of my army. There's no use feeding the head of a snake if its tail withers away."
"We're not like you, princess," the captain smiled. "I will make sure the hunter-drones are content with feeding on lesser prey for now."
Spectra gave a pleased nod and dismissed him. Even if Halfwing was pulling ahead in their sisterly competition, the success of her hunt was still purposeful. She hated being forced to catch up with the cripple. Nevertheless, she would catch up.
Walking deeper into the tunnel she came across a locked metal door. It was one of the few useful things the hive stole from pony villages. A guard-drone stood mindlessly guarding it, barely even recognizing Spectra. Waved a hoof in front of him, testing the drone's programming.
She remembered a lesson from her mother, months ago when her brain had barely formed. There were special hunter-drones born to guard the hive and its caverns. Spectra guessed it was a similar to how the groundskeepers were born. The guard-drones wouldn't recognize anything except unwanted intruders.
Of course, the Queen's Reservoir was guarded by dangers far worse than a single drone. It made Spectra wonder at how many secrets did only their mother know about? As it stood, she only knew the existence of hunter-drone variants. It was the Queen who found them and trained them. If she could simply learn that kind of power her from mother, Halfwing wouldn't stand a chance.
"Open the door," Spectra commanded her drone. Its eyes flickered for a moment as if her words gave the drone a spark of life. It didn't show any acknowledgement of Spectra. The drone just pulled the door's keys from the small satchel slung over its back and unlocked the door. Once that task was finished, it returned to its mindless guarding position.
Inside, the cavern glowed slightly brighter than the rest of the hive. To accommodate the weakened eyes of the ponies, glowing fungal patches were planted along the cavern floor, illuminating the room just enough so they wouldn't go insane in the darkness.
"Wha-"
Spectra turned to Chevron's voice. The stallion had a rope tied around his neck like a leash, with the other end bound around a heavy stone. She could see pieces of glowing fungi on the ground, some torn up and some chewed. Specks of the fungi even covered Chevron's mouth. It was a sudden reminder that she and the pack had forgotten to feed the ponies.
"Is that you?" he called out, squinting in the dim light. "You were that Changeling, weren't you? The one who replaced that Marblestop girl!"
Spectra sneered at him. Replaced? She wanted to laugh at how he believed at one point Marina was actually a pony. Just a few meters away, Lunti was tied to a rock as well.
"Yes it's me," she answered Chevron. "However, if this form terrifies you..."
Spectra reached inward and pooled her magic into her stomach. With their emotions fueling her, the transformation came easily. She burned the magic away, using its power to reconfigure her flesh.
In a flash of green light, Spectra was gone, and Gentry stood before the two ponies. "I could be some pony else if it makes you more comfortable." She looked down at herself. "Though I suppose this isn't what you wanted to see."
Spectra couldn't help but smile at Lunti's expression. Her eyes were nearly useless in the dim, but her ears recognized her father's voice immediately.
"Don't look at me like that," Spectra turned her voice into a masculine snarl. "I gave my daughter everything. The disloyal whore you've become is not the little filly I loved."
Lunti choked, holding back tears in her eyes. Despite knowing who was speaking under that voice, she couldn't help but let out her emotions. Spectra tasted it all in the air. Genuine repent, mixed with fear, was written across Lunti's magic.
Spectra released her body from Gentry's form, returning to her true self.
"Why not just kill us already?" Chevron's head was hung low but Spectra could still hear the anger quivering in his voice.
A thought popped into Spectra's mind, and she transformed again. This time, taking the form of Espera Voxa. She approached Chevron, wrapping her hooves around the stallion. Voxa didn't have the youthful charm that Seiris commanded among mares, but nevertheless her natural shape and matured control drove male bodies crazy, regardless of their conscious fears.
"Wouldn't it be better for the both of us," she whispered into his ears, tracing her tongue along it, "if you stayed around just a bit longer?" Her mouth hovered close to his and pinched his jaw open between her hooves. She breathed in, drawing on his magic until Chevron began convulsing.
The force of magic leaving his body had arrested his lungs, like a pony struggling to breathe in a vicious fit of vomiting. Spectra didn't mind. He'd pass out soon enough once she drew enough magic.
She dropped his head onto a patch of glowing mushrooms when she finished. Spectra gave a sigh of satisfaction, relaxing and letting her magic gently return her to her true body. It felt good to feed on him, but she knew she could never bring him along to fight her sister. Chevron wasn't old by any means, but neither was he young. Thanks to a life of luxury, his body was long past its prime.
Spectra glanced over at Lunti who lay petrified on the ground. "Bet you never did that with him, did you?"
Lunti's eyes widened. "It was you who told my father..."
"Of course I did. I needed to separate you from the pony most likely to know the difference between you and your replacement."
"You ruined my life!"
Spectra looked around the dim cavern. "Well, yes."
"Why me?" Her voice shook, half with rage and half with fear. "Why not the Marblestop officers, or Reiter, or-"
"Reiter?" Spectra rushed Lunti, filling her legs with magic to move impossibly fast and pin Lunti down in a patch of fungi. "So you never did love him, did you? You're happy to have him take your place here."
Lunti coughed as the some of the fungi cluttered around her face. The impact blurred her vision, making it even harder to see in the dim light. But when the cavern cleared up, the face lit by the gentle blue hue of the fungi was not Spectra's black chitinous carapace, but Reiter's.
She struggled to escape her shame, but Spectra pressed her down with supernatural strength, threatening to break her bones in the struggle. Lunti very quickly gave up, realizing she could never win in a contest of strength.
"Calm down, Lunti." Spectra breathed in her ear, speaking with Reiter's voice. "Isn't this what you wanted? It sure seemed like it."
She expected the pony to stay submissive, confident in the effect fear would have. Instead, Spectra flinched backwards, wiping the saliva Lunti had spat in her face.
"Lu-lu," she growled, pushing herself off the ground. "That's what Reiter called me. You're not him, and I don't care what you say or do, I won't let you ruin my memories of him."
Spectra was surprised by her performance. But it excited her. The thrill of subduing her prey, breaking that resistant spirit, ignited her primal urge to hunt. Some ancient egg-dream of prowling through the forest, hunting on the surface like the other beasts that roamed, rattled in Spectra's mind and told her to pounce.
But, she bit back the urge just a little and let go of Reiter's form. "Since you'll be seeing a lot of me from now on, I guess it's best you got familiar with what I really look like."
Spectra hummed her wings and went for Lunti again, this time pinning her against a pillar carved out by a worker-drone to look like a stalagmite. The mare grunted from the impact but remained defiant, trying her best to glare into Spectra's eyes in the nearly complete darkness.
"You'll see the surface soon, Lu-lu," Spectra taunted the same way she had with Chevron, tasting her by running her tongue along the edge of her neck and ear.
"You've already had him," Lunti hissed back. "I'm surprised you keep your figure with this kind of appetite." Lunti tried laughing at her own rebellious humour, but the force of Spectra's wings compressed her lungs until it took all her effort just to breathe.
"I'm saving you for something special." Spectra gently nibbled her soft, supple skin. She wasn't as fit as a soldier but her youth kept her body in far better shape than Chevron's. Spectra still wasn't certain she would survive marching on Halfwing's pack, but it was a better chance.
Lunti's jaw clenched and her muscles tensed, holding her firmly in place as Spectra's fangs ran lightly along her skin. One wrong move and she could be torn to shreds, either by accident or by Spectra's will.
Slowly, Spectra loosened her pressure and they both slumped onto the ground. Lunti wiggled, searching for a way to free herself. But even Spectra's loosened grip help her firmly.
"Not yet," Spectra spoke softly into's Lunti's mouth, the skin of their lips rubbing together. "I can still have a little taste, before I save the rest of you for later."
The first few draws were light, the magic so weak it could barely hold itself in a physical fog as Spectra breathed it in. But every defiant breath of Lunti was sweet and sour and never stopped sending chills along the princess' carapace. She broke off the connect for a moment, only to lick her lips.
Lunti gasped for air but stopped short as Spectra drained harder, pulling more forcefully as their faces pressed into each other. Lunti struggled now, shaking as Chevron had, unable to breathe. After a few agonizing seconds, Spectra broke off again, this time giving Lunti a chance to recover.
The mare coughed, her body quivering from the shock of losing its magic. "Please, don't take more," she pleaded. Spectra leered at her. No matter how rebellious she thought she could be, ponies valued their lives so much more. But Lunti was much more lively than Chevron.
"You can give so much more," Spectra replied, leaning into her again.
"No!" Lunti turned away, but Spectra pulled their lips together again. She wrapped her hooves around Lunti's bare back, pressing their bodies and squeezing the air from Lunti's chest again. The taste of fear and death might have been bland, but it was worth it to get to the rush of adrenaline pumping through her primitive body.
Once again, she dropped Lunti and let her catch her breath. Now tears were running along her cheeks, one of the many involuntary reactions ponies had to pain.
"Don't do it," Lunti gasped. "Again."
Spectra let out a chuckle. "My sweet thing, this is all you're going to know from now on." Without hesitation Spectra grabbed the rope around Lunti's neck and pulled her in, draining her magic with even more force than before.
The room wouldn't stop moving. So much magic flowed through her hooves that she couldn't stop her hooves from shaking. Spectra slumped down, sitting on flowstone in the central cavern that sloped up and reached the ceiling. The heart was beating and her biology reacted naturally to the emotions she had stolen.
She may have been manipulative, but now what little love Lunti had for others amplified. Spectra found it ironic that she would wish for love when she became all alone. What thoughts did she have now?
Spectra stood up when she heard her captain coming up from the hunter-drone caverns.
"So, how's my army?" she asked as he approached.
"It wasn't hard to take the younger lieutenants from the other captains," he said, "but I've hit a snag. I think you should have a look at it."
"Too big for you to handle?" Spectra mocked him.
But he simply accepted her remark. "He's in the fighting pit, below the main hunter-drone cavern."
The way to the hunter-drone cavern was exactly how Spectra remembered it. Its twists and obstacles felt less intimidating now, however. With her age came a better awareness of her surroundings, and she quickly moved through the maze as easily as the captain.
"I never heard about the fighting pit," Spectra said as they neared the cavern. "And I don't have any egg-dreams of it."
"Of course not," her captain replied. "It wasn't necessary for you to know about it. As powerful as our egg-dreams are, there are limits to how much information they can teach."
"So why are we going there?"
They hopped down a small ledge and entered the cavern. It had grown slightly larger, deepened and expanded by worker-drones and their acid. Regardless, the number of hunter-drones and their birthing-pits made the larger cavern feel just as cramped.
The captain gestured a hoof to a tunnel on the left that led down. "The oldest and strongest hunter-drones go there to make or answer formal challenges. One captain's past his prime now."
Spectra chuffed at the captain. "So you thought you could challenge him, but ended up needing my help?"
They lowered their heads as they entered the tunnel and went down its uneven descent. "No. His favour with the Queen supersedes my right to challenge him. Only you can win him over, your highness."
"What?" It wasn't the thought of subduing a hunter-drone that surprised her, but that her mother allowed such a status at all. The hive chose its strongest based on merit. Those who couldn't survive the process were killed off to leave room for the strong.
She didn't believe her mother would bother protecting a simple hunter-drone from other challenges, no matter how experienced a captain he was. Among the ponies, she had learned that hiding behind titles always caused one to grow lax.
But Spectra could hear the sounds long before they reach it. They weren't Changeling sounds. From the fighting pit came low, guttural reverberations. They were the sounds of large predatory reptiles and mammals.
"Hold on, what kind of fighting is this?" This time the captain didn't reply. He ducked down, slipping through the gap at the end of the tunnel where the sounds were coming from.
"I guess that's means I'll see it for myself," Spectra sighed, squeezing through.
A shallow pool of water filled the centre of the cavern. And in it, a massive reptile struggled to clamp its jaws around a tiger.
Spectra watched them trade blows. In a seamless transition, the tiger transformed into a sleeker mammal, one that resembled a slender cat, that could dash circles around the crocodile. The tiger returned as easily as it disappeared, now behind the reptile, and pouncing before it could react.
The crocodile started moving, but not before the tiger's claws sank into and scraped at its enemy's eyes and nose. It was only seconds before the crocodile changed, returning to its original Changeling body.
"We use everything at our disposal," the captain said. He stood by the entrance, waiting for Spectra.
"So, who's the old captain?"
Her captain pointed to the tiger, roaring over its blinded opponent. "He goes by Zorne, a name he picked up decades ago on the surface."
Decades. Spectra wasn't even a year old. She watched Zorne grab the blinded Changeling in his tiger jaws and throw him out of the water, roaring at the other hunter-drones who were watching, as if taunting them to fight.
"I thought other drones couldn't challenge him," she said to the captain.
He nodded. "Doesn't stop him from challenging others. I tried to taunt him myself, but like I said, he's beyond my status. I can't even get him to look at me."
She understood the feeling of superiority, but it still irked her that a hunter-drone would ignore her personal captain. So she stepped forward.
Her hooves clacked along the hard bedrock floor, turning to sloshing sounds as the water reached halfway between her hooves and knees. She approached the captain, staring him down. Even in his tiger body, his eyes flashed a look of recognition.
"I can smell a whelp on you," he growled, raising his nose to sniff the air. "Your captain thought he could come in here and fight, just because he serves a princess." He had the form of a tiger, but inside his throat, the vocal chords were altered, creating something between a Changeling's chatter and a tiger's growl.
Spectra snarled back, but he continued. "What is service to a princess compared to fighting beside the Queen? I've pulled her out of more trouble than you've experienced the few short months you've been alive."
"Will you be able to swallow that pride when I beat you, captain?" Spectra hissed, already charging her horn with magic.
"It won't come to that point," the old captain laughed. "But go ahead, challenge me."
Without warning, Spectra launched a volley of magic bolts at Zorne, exploding the water into mist. In the corner of her vision, she saw a paw swing out from the mist. She leaned back, but the razor edge of the claws managed to scratch her chitin.
She rolled away, taking the scrapes on her carapace from the rough stone beneath the water just to put some distance between them. Spectra was up moments later, horn levelled and ready. But the tiger was not there. The mist settled, and in the darkness of the cavern, she saw the dim fungal-light shine off a pale legless reptile.
Instinct took over and drove Spectra away from it. But in the water the snake moved effortlessly, barring its fangs. She spread her wings to hover beyond the animal's reach, but the water had her. It weighed her wings down and left her open to the burning pain in her leg.
Spectra collapsed, clutching where the snake had bit her. Its venom was so potent that her lungs were already tightening. She flooded her system with magic, pumping energy into her fat-body. Unique to Changelings and insects alike, the fat-body served the function of the liver; charged with magic, it would metabolize the snake's venom quicker.
The flash of energy lit up the entire cavern for a moment. Every drone reeled back, blinded by the sudden contrast of light and dark. Spectra took the break to force herself up. The snake's venom would not kill her as long as she channelled magic into ichor. Yet, she felt her body slacking, becoming unresponsive to her will.
Spectra cursed herself. She was sure there was an animal in nature resistant to the snake's venom, but she didn't know it. She had only ever fed on cows and deer and other game. She had no idea where to begin to transform into more useful animals. Zorne, on the other hoof, was now a bear.
He brought up his claws and swiped down into the water, tearing open Spectra's exoskeleton and bleeding her ichor into the water. Again, she was forced to send magic to the injury, speeding up the clotting and killing off the nerves to stop the pain.
Relying on magic would not work, that much was clear. Straight blasts were predictable and easy to avoid. Spectra ran for the other end of the water, slipping left and right to avoid the bear's deadly strikes. She dropped below the captain's swings and surged her magic throughout her body.
Flesh twisted as her organs melted away and reformed. Chitin turned to skin and bone, but most important of all was the horns. Spectra felt the weight of her head drag down as antlers expanded from her skull instantly. She focused all her magic on the stag's liver. She was wise enough to not let the venom catch her off guard.
"Good," the bear growled with pleasure. Spectra knew that if weren't for the bear's physiology, Zorne would be smiling. She could smell the adrenaline in his body. According to the groundskeeper's note, ponies called the sensation fight or flight. Zorne smelled like he only felt the fight.
Spectra turned and bolted as he gave chase. The bear bounded across the fighting pit in three great leaps but crashed backwards into the water from the powerful legs of Spectra's stag transformation. She drove her hooves into the stone, forcing a turn and charging back at the old captain.
She tried moving fast but it was too late. The force of the captain's claws raked across Spectra's neck like an iron blade through cloth. The gash sprayed mammalian blood into the water. There was no sense of its dark red in the dim cavern, but Spectra felt the energy of her warm-blooded body spreading farther and farther.
Once again she brought her magic to bear, burning up the energy to take another form. She dashed around the bear as a guard hound, the kind Riverfork farmers kept out in the countryside. Her jaws sank into the back of the bear, but it did very little to pierce its thick fur.
Zorne roared and fell on his back. He rolled and thrashed, crushing Spectra under his weight. But she would not let go. She burst with energy and darted out from under Zorne as a cat. He bellowed in reply, crouching on fours. Spectra squinted as he became a ball of green light as well. From the flash came a snapping jaw of an alligator.
Spectra leapt above him, letting her cat's body follow its instincts. She landed on top of the alligator and clung tightly to his nose, hoping to all gods that she would not be bitten in half. Drawing on her dwindling reserves of magic, she willed herself to transform into a cow.
Her massive form fell on top of Zorn, crushing shut his alligator jaw. She wanted to smirk at him, to tell him to swallow his pride now that his mouth was shut. But as she looked into his eyes, she was blinded by a radiant green magic. Zorne returned to his original form, using his smaller size to slip away.
As a predator animal, dodging blasts of magic was simple. But Spectra was a sitting cow and Zorne's magic was already charged. She panicked to her hooves too late, feeling her back crack against ground.
She shook the water from her face, but the old captain was already on her. The point of the horn pressed against her neck, hot with magic.
"I'll follow you when you become Queen, but not before," he hissed.
The venom, the injuries, and fighting Zorne, she couldn't send magic to every task without her reserve of power draining. But Zorne was essential. Majesta was the strongest and had the loyalty of Halfwing's former captain as well as her own. She could easily claim she contributed the most to the war. If she was seen as the victor, the other hunter-drones would follow her lead without hesitation.
Spectra siphoned the remains of her magic, ignoring the venom and bleeding to take the form of a cat. The loose skin of the animal allowed her to slip from Zorne's horn. She dug her feline claws into the stone and pounced on Zorne's back, clawing her way up to his face.
She tore at his ears, but Zorne used magic to retract them. She moved onto his nose, but he quickly grew another layer of chitin over it. All the while he thrashed around, trying to get her away. It hurt to cling on, but Spectra pushed through the pain, focusing only on her goal. Nothing else mattered but winning.
She bit at his face, sinking claw and teeth into one of his eyes the same way he had mangled the eyes of his earlier opponent. The move enraged Zorne to no end. He opened his jaw to hiss, but what came out was a horrifying sound trumpeting sound.
His nose became like a snake, his legs were the size of tree stumps. And the fangs that once lined his jaw changed and expanded into two massive spears.
The monster grabbed Spectra with its trunk and slammed her against the ceiling of the cavern, shattering dozens of needle-like stalactites on her skin. It threw her down into the water only to fling her around with a sweep of its tusks.
Spectra wretched blood into the water. She imagined that in the light of day it'd be red with the blood of her animals by now. But she was still alive. Her muscles were numbed by the remaining venom in her system, and it made her actions sporadic. However, she survived. At the expense of her health, she used the last of her magic to thicken her skin so that even Zorne's monstrous form would not kill her.
It was all for naught, it seemed. Even as she tried to stand up, the faint light of fungal patches seemed to fade into darkness. The last thing she heard before her senses went was her captain rushing to pull her from the fighting pit.
"I've brought plenty of whelps to near-death. I knew what I was doing."
"She's the Queen's daughter!"
"If birthright was everything my brother wouldn't have needed years of training to become a groundskeeper."
"I don't care. You took your test too far!"
"She's fine."
"The princess didn't have any magic left. She was weaker than the day she was born."
The hissing of the older and younger captains faded away. Spectra didn't know how long they yelled at each other. Their conversation would come and go along with her consciousness. But there was also a scent around her. One she hadn't smelled in a very long time. Her mother's pride.
Her vision was blurred, but she still knew that the figure standing beside her was the Queen.
"I expected this from your sister," her mother whispered. "She bites off more than she can chew sometimes. Like when she tore off your sister's wing."
She laughed. The Queen of the Changelings, the mother who watched her clutch of daughters murder each other for the right to live, actually laughed.
"And now you're all going to face Halfwing." Spectra couldn't tell if her mother sighed, or if her hearing was simply losing focus again. "I hope Tenacity realizes that she'll be your sister's first target. Of course, I think you'd be the next one."
Spectra wanted to say something. She tried to just nod her head, but nothing seemed to work. Whatever she willed herself to do only remained as thoughts. She watched as the dark figure standing by her moved away, barking at the captains to end their bickering.
"What is the absolute rule of this hive?" she asked them.
The both of them answered in one voice. "To serve you, my Queen."
"Then that noise coming out of your mouth is pointless," she told them. "Zorne has no reason to regret his actions. He fought as I have always commanded him to. And now I command him to serve my daughter Spectra."
There was a pause, and for a moment Spectra though she was about to lose consciousness again. But the Queen's voice cut through the silence. "She lives. It's proof enough to me that she's worthy, so it will be enough for Zorne as well."
"Yes, your highness."
Spectra took a long breath. She never did stand a chance against Zorne. The difference in power and experience was too great. But always adapting, even in a no-win situation, was the most important. There was no telling what she'd find in Marblestop. She didn't get to give up simply because fighting her sister seemed impossible.
"Take care of this gift, daughter," her mother returned, blocking out the light from the glowing fungi around Spectra.
She felt her mother's hair drape over her face. "You've done well up to this point. But nearly anyone can withstand adversity, my child. To test one's true character, give them power."
Spectra understood. It was no wonder why their mother didn't force Halfwing to return to the hive. This was an opportunity for her as well. This way, their mother could find the strongest leader among all four of them, just by watching how they conducted the war.
Like everything, it was just another test. But it didn't matter. She'd pass them like all the rest. I will have Halfwing's head. Spectra felt her mind slipping from exhaustion again, but this time she welcomed it. She preserved the image of her sister dying at her hooves and imagined the scent of her mother's pride. With those thoughts, she willing fell back to sleep.
The hunter-drones buzzed around in the sky ferrying injured game to the nest. They were a day's march away from the hive, but thanks to the ponies the princesses had brought along, that left them in the middle of the jungle.
The groundskeeper's nest-room was larger than the ones further north, though, with her and her sisters resting in it, Spectra didn't feel the space. It didn't help that Tenacity had insisted on bringing five of her ponies.
High in the nests, the ponies were kept. They were watched by hunter-drones all night. It served little purpose, however. None of them was a pegasus. They had no way of leaving their nest like the Changelings. If they tried, it would be a long fall.
Spectra could sense the unease of the packs. In total they had a hundred and seventy-two hunter-drones in their army, captains and lieutenants included. Even when fed by the local wildlife, the pack was still hungry. Many were young drones born around the same time as the princesses. They craved magic the most so that they would grow strong and serve their princesses.
The scent of pony magic hovering above the army didn't help either. The hunter-drones knew not to overstep their bounds, but that didn't make resisting their urge to feed any easier.
Spectra herself wanted to help herself to the magic Lunti had recovered. But after the march, the three princesses decided it was for the best to let their food supply rest. For the ponies, the pace of the pack's march was strenuously fast, and without proper rest, their flavour would quickly spoil.
They picked apart animals the nest's traps had caught. Tenacity chewed sadly on a species of large rodent. Majesta picked her way slowly through the stomachs of a few brightly feathered birds. Neither seemed interested in their twitching prey. They had tasted life and now hated death and how it tasted when magic left a dying animal. Spectra felt the same silent disappointment.
Regardless, she used it as an opportunity. A large reptile convulsed as Spectra shredded its hide with her fangs. It was a close relation to crocodiles and alligators, though noticeably smaller. The groundskeeper said it would be a good way to start on their kind.
She ate its flesh but focused on its magic. Even in death, emotions and instincts danced all over its smell. Spectra tried her best to learn its intentions. She linked the reptile's actions to sudden bursts of a certain smell, and quickly caught onto how it wanted to escape and what limitations it understood. Picking apart its body told her everything she needed to know to become it while picking apart its brain taught her how to fight like it.
Her sister Tenacity gave a cry of frustration. "This is ridiculous. We march the whole day and they're the ones who are too tired?" She gestured with her horn to their ponies.
"The captains advised us not to make them too weak," Majesta replied, trying to calm her.
"But I'm just so hungry!" Tenacity buried her head into her meal and moaned in unison with the animal's dying breath.
"Then let's do something to take our mind off things," Spectra suggested. "We could share stories about where we went."
From her dinner, Tenacity groaned. "No way. Thinking about that place is only going to make me hungrier."
The other two princesses stared. "How's that?" asked Spectra.
"It was the most amazing place I've ever seen." Tenacity pulled her head out of the animal and cast her eyes up at the night sky, picturing the memory in her mind. "Pony have this place where stallions go to give and get love. Sometimes with other stallions, but usually with mares."
"Oh." Spectra turned to see Majesta gagging. It surprised her. She didn't think anything could get her bigger sister to emote the way she did.
Tenacity leered at her sister. "What right do you have to react like that? Bet you've never been to one."
"They have those in Luneshard," Majesta said once she composed herself. "It's a city with a magic school at the centre. I enrolled as a student and made some friends. They invited me out to one of those places, but only for mares to meet other mares. Thinking about it, I can still smell it."
Tenacity shrugged. "Maybe you were just doing it wrong."
Majesta snarled back. "I didn't do anything. That kind of love smelled horrible. I don't want to imagine what it would taste like."
That puzzled Spectra. Emotions were not equal, but she didn't think any form of love or pleasure could be worse than something as simple and common as hatred or fear.
Tenacity pushed aside her dinner and rested her back on the edge of the nest-room. She hung her head back, sticking just over the top of where the floor curved up and formed a low wall. "I bet you stuck your nose into spell books and stuff. Hard to imagine finding love there."
"And that's why you would have failed in my place," Majesta sneered.
Tenacity brought her stare back to Majesta. She looked about to say something but switched at the last moment. "What about you, Spectra? I heard Riverfork had some big changes while you were among them."
Majesta agreed. "Yours would be the best. I remember you mentioned posing as one of them."
"True, but I've only read about the city itself," Spectra said. "All I know is that they're famous for their crafts. Many masters of building and architecture pass down family recipes for a mixture called caementine. It looks like really thick mud at first, but hardens into stone."
"It must be easy for them to build sturdy structures then," Tenacity commented. "Do they build defensive structures?"
Spectra shook her head. "They mainly use it to make paved roads and artificial streams, to bring water closer to their homes. Army camps are separate from the residents and marketplace."
"So sister dearest would have needed to build her own defences." Tenacity pointed to around them. "I imagine a nest like this would be easy to sniff out."
"Even if we find them, the pack is small," Majesta added. "It won't be enough to find their nest. It's too easy for them to disperse and regroup."
"That's all theoretical right now." Spectra's words shut them both up. She focused a thin beam of magic on a wide piece of bark lying in the nest, making a crude map out of charred markings. She drew the docks and streets by memory, recalling the lessons the groundskeeper had to cram into her brain. She drew the streets and its dead ends, marking key buildings with simple shapes.
"We'll probably have to change our plans once we take a look at Marblestop for ourselves," Spectra said, "but right now let's assume our sister has the docks under watch."
Spectra pointed temple markings. "These temples are higher than all other buildings in the village. We'll need to stay out of their sight."
Together they reviewed the layout of the village, guessing at their sister's intentions and creating plans to counter them. It surprised Spectra. As long as they had a common enemy, they seemed to work together just as well as ponies did. Tenacity was eager to fight, but she never failed to think through how she planned to win. Majesta's calm kept their aggression in check and often found ways to counter Tenacity's plans.
A few more days of marching and they'd be at Marblestop's docks, undoubtedly prepared.
Spectra listened as a group of hunter-drones heaved Lunti off their raft. Crossing the swampland between the jungle and northern forests was harder than she had imagined thanks to the ponies.
Every one of them, save for Majesta's, thought it better to die at the jaws of alligators rather than stay captives of the Changelings. The pack needed to tie them down to the rafts they used to cross the water, just so they wouldn't try to kill themselves.
"There's over a hundred of us," Tenacity growled. "Why not just carry them?"
"Mammals are heavy," Majesta spoke from a boulder, standing above the muddy grass below. "Do you want our packs to get tired before they even make it to Marblestop."
"Besides," Spectra added, "their food rations were also too heavy to fly with." She pointed to the first two rafts to hit solid land. The hunter-drones were still struggling with the barrels of nuts and dried fruit harvested from the jungle. In case they couldn't find enough during their campaign, the princesses agreed to take with them enough to keep their livestock alive.
"They're more hassle than they're worth," Tenacity said, poking her hoof in the mud while they waited for the rest of their army to get off the rafts.
Spectra nodded. "No doubt, but Halfwing's not going to leave ponies for us to feed on."
Majesta whistled to her second captain, the one who had escaped Halfwing's rampage in Marblestop. He stood at the banks of the swamp with ten of his twenty-five hunter-drones.
"Scout the path ahead," she commanded him. "Make sure it's safe for the ponies to cross."
The captain nodded and barked orders to his drones. Immediately the ten drones took to the sky, some in their Changeling forms, others flying farther ahead in the bodies of hawks and eagles.
Their army marched a mile ahead and stopped, letting the hunter-drones rest after two days of rowing through the swamp, wrangling with audacious alligators and gigantic whiskered fishes. As dead tree branches were hauled to make tents, Spectra stood at the edge of the campsite and watched the sky turn from a midnight-blue to pitch black.
The infinite stars came sparkling through immediately. It lit the night sky like nothing else. Even the constructs of ponies seemed inconsequential compared to the massive heavens beyond. She wondered which, if any, of the pony gods, was responsible for creating such a beautiful display of colours.
A breeze brought a shudder to her carapace. They were nowhere near the forests but the northern winter was already noticeable. Soon, rain and snow would blanket the villages, and in the spring the river will flood.
Her stomach growled. It's been days since the last time. There was a long march ahead of them, and the approaching winter had already pulled back some of the water. According to the returning scouts, the in-between area that joined the forests and the swamps had lost most of its water.
There was no need for rafts beyond this point, meaning Lunti would need her strength to survive the rest of the marching. If she had some drones carry Lunti, then the whole army would have to be slowed to allow them to keep up. If Lunti was too weak during the march, then the same would happen.
Spectra sighed. She wanted to taste Lunti again, to roll her magic around in her tongue, but it would have to wait. A few more days and they'd be at Marblestop and rendezvous with the groundskeeper in the area. That meant an end to the marching and a safe place where the princesses could enjoy their prey.
Spectra stopped herself. Thinking about it would only fortify her appetite. Instead, she focused on the possible animals she could learn about while crossing over to the forest. Surely, somewhere among the grassy wetlands, there was a snake, or perhaps an owl.
Their horns stung whenever it was the smaller Changelings who forced them to march. A jolt of magic ran up Lunti's back, tensing every muscle in her body for just a moment.
She snarled. The larger ones, likely older too, had more control.
What were they doing? Marina, no, the Changeling princess, she didn't tell her any details. The other's didn't know either. All she knew was that some kind of rift was happening between the Changelings.
The march made her legs ache. The farther north they travelled, the colder the air got. Worse still, they were still crossing over to the river land forests.
The princess chattered something to her sisters. They spoke in a voice Lunti couldn't understand. It didn't even sound like a language to her. All that came from their mouths was senseless chattering and hissing. Another jolt of magic cracked through her back.
At first, the ache in her legs became sharp stabs in her joints. Every step was like a knife threatening to peel away her kneecaps. But after a few hours, Lunti lost all feeling in her legs. She took it as a blessing, even though she couldn't be sure she was moving her legs without looking down.
When night fell, the princess and her sisters decided no to make camp. No doubt, Lunti figured, they had some way to see in the dark. The other prisoners looked horrified to see owl eyes and cat eyes glaring from the carapaces of the Changelings. But Lunti didn't let it take her attention. Even the briefest distraction would take her mind off the pain from the endless march. And after a distraction like that, the numbness would go away.
They must have entered the forested region in the middle of the night. Lunti felt the bushes and branches scraping her legs and face. Without any way to see them coming, she just let it be. She flinched every time a bare branch scratched her skin. But as much as it hurt, the small drips of blood gave some welcomed warmth to her chilled coat.
The Changeling in the lead, one wearing a black armour that looked like his carapace, hissed to the rest of the army. Immediately, the others stopped. Lunti turned to some of the other prisoners who she could hear breathing behind her.
"What's going on?" she spoke in a hushed voice.
"How should I know?" replied a stallion. "Just shut up and wait."
Lunti heard buzzing and felt the ground beneath her hooves give way. She flailed for a moment, but recognized the rough grip of Changelings and felt the stronger breeze as they flew over the trees. The night sky was a canvas of clouds, but the moon cut through just enough to whiten the treetops. Lunti barely saw the nest before she was thrown in.
Pine leaves poked her skin, making the small cuts across her body sting. But she finally had rest. She let the leaves do their worst. With any luck, a cut would do her a favour and get infected. It'd be a painful death, but no worse than what the Changeling princess would do to her from now on.
The nest and its nest-rooms looked exactly the same as the one near Riverfork. She wasn't surprised. The climate and terrain were nearly identical on this side of the river, and Marblestop wasn't that far from Riverfork anyways.
Large masses of branches locked together and formed enlarged versions of bird-dwellings. Some even had branches coming up, forming walls like a makeshift tent suspended in the trees.
Spectra plucked the coniferous leaves from her chitin. "You had to keep marching, didn't you?"
"Everyone in this army is a whelp," Zorne grimaced. "If you can't handle a little marching then princess Halfwing's not going anywhere."
Spectra scowled. "She won't be going anywhere after I kill her."
The old captain shrugged. "We'll see. The groundskeeper already prepared your nest-room, so you better rest those young legs, princess. After you tend to that pony."
"What are you talking about? The drones can handle the feeding," Spectra said. "The prey traps are surrounded by berry bushes, so we can save on the rations."
Zorne shook his head, disappointed by Spectra's response. "The Queen was generous to assign me to you. Do you really think food is enough to keep those ponies healthy? They're delicate creatures. Can't even see in this dark."
Spectra frowned. "Marblestop's just across the river. The army will rest here for a few days while we scout. Should be plenty of time for them to rest."
"Let me show you something." Zorne reached out and grabbed her hoof, flipping it over. Spectra was taken aback for a moment, unused to a drone getting so close to her as he did.
"Our carapace is tough, but even it can be worn down during a long march." Under the green light of his horn, Zorne showed Spectra the numerous scratches and cracks at the bottom of her hoof. Nothing broke through the exoskeleton, so she didn't feel it, but it was definitely weaker than it could be.
But Zorne simply touched his horn to her leg. She could smell the magic trickling from him, but unlike emotions, this magic had focus and intent, like a transformation. She watched intensely as her wounds closed up.
"The magic we use to transform can influence other creatures as well." Zorne let go of Spectra. He raised his own foreleg and sank his fangs into it, spilling ichor all over the dirt.
He thrust it at Spectra. "Heal it."
Spectra gathered her magic at her horn. She could feel its power but didn't know what to do with it.
"Gently release it," Zorne said. "Imagine the scent of happiness, pride, and accomplishment. Ponies feel these when they conduct acts of generosity."
Spectra listened and followed, letting go of the magic like releasing a breath slowly. But it went everywhere, spreading to the air with no direction or control.
"You're remembering scents, observations," Zorne corrected her. "Remember the feeling itself, and what it made you think."
Spectra tried again, gathering more magic and focusing on Zorne's wound. The emotions he talked about, the feeling of generosity, made her think about Esilis. With Lunti replaced by a drone, there'd be nothing stopping Esilis from being with Reiter. The thought played at a primal hunger, to toss aside a rival and bring their mate into the pack. Reiter and Esilis were hers now, and it was only right that she let their bond grow stronger.
"That's enough magic, your highness," Zorne interrupted her, pulling his leg away. The bite he had just given himself was gone now.
"Kind of pointless, isn't it?" Spectra said. "Could've done it yourself."
"I could have." He pointed to the highest nest-room, where Lunti was resting. "She sure can't."
Zorne spread his wings and began hovering to his part of the nest. "Ought to look at those scratches of hers. Let them fester and you might as well eat a bag of rats."
Take care of Lunti? Now that was a strange thought indeed. Spectra unfolded her wings and flew into the forest to collect some berries. No point in wasting time by healing and feeding separately.
She whisked through the trees and the bushes, piling up the wild fruits that ponies called delicacies. Spectra's mind began to wonder as she worked. She felt in her element on the surface. There was power in the life that thrived here, and she easily understood why Halfwing would rather stay than go back to the hive.
They outnumbered her and had surprise on their side. Halfwing would lose. But then what, return to the hive? She could pretend to be Marina another time and bring more ponies back to the hive. And then she'd repeat the cycle until Majesta or Tenacity threatened her claim to the throne.
Maybe Halfwing wasn't weak after all. The more Spectra thought about it, the more she realized there was no reason to go back. She'd have to end her sister's reign, of course, but why not take her place?
She needed to take baby steps. The first task was to make sure her current pony was still in good condition. She gathered up the berries in a field of levitation and flew back to the nest.
It didn't surprise her that Lunti was fast asleep. Spectra looked over her body and could see scrapes and bruises from tree branches and rocks. Her hooves were rough and worn down at every edge.
But she wasn't quiet enough. Lunti opened her eyes sleepily but was wide awake as soon her eyes adjusted to the dim moonlight illuminating the nest. She scrambled away at the sight of Spectra but stopped when she hit the edge of the nest.
"Jump and I'll catch you," Spectra taunted as if she dared Lunti to try escaping.
She whirled around and glared at the princess. "I won't give you satisfaction. Just do what you came here to do."
Spectra couldn't help but smile. Even now, she was proudly defiant. Being raised by a council member certainly didn't do any harm to her sense of dignity. But breaking that spirit would take time. Spectra released her levitation and neatly piled the berries onto the nest.
Before Spectra could offer it, Lunti pounced on the food. Even with her primitive sense of smell, the sweet fruit was too strong to miss. She ate greedily, barely giving herself time to breathe. Spectra reached out and grabbed Lunti. She flinched and tried coiling back, but their forelegs were locked tight.
"Relax," she told Lunti. "You can gorge yourself later." With a soft amount of magic, she shined a green light over Lunti's wounds. She thought about how she had the power over the life and death of her pony and felt great pleasure in knowing it was by her grace that Lunti would be kept in good health.
In seconds her skin sealed up the scrapes, and her hooves smoothed out. Lunti stared at herself, and then at Spectra. She rubbed where she had been healed, getting rid of the itchiness that came with healing.
"You think you'll get what you want by acting mercifully?" Lunti's voice went flat. "Mercy would to just let me die. I don't care how. It'd be better than being your prisoner."
Her words sounded like surrender, but Spectra smelled her conviction. She was powerless compared to the Changelings. Dying was her only act of defiance.
"Maybe one day you'll get your wish," Spectra said, putting her hoof around Lunti, holding her a breath's distance from her lips. "But for now, you'll be cared for and watched over. All you need to do is behave."
Spectra drew Lunti's magic lightly, but she still squirmed. She feels soft. Spectra noticed herself and her rough carapace.
"Oh, perhaps you'll enjoy something more familiar." Spectra morphed into Marina's form effortlessly. By now she had plenty of practice changing her flesh.
Lunti didn't move away but lay stiff as Marina's tongue invaded her mouth, forcing the magic out of her body. It was slow, unlike the aggressive draining she had experienced before, but it still fatigued her.
Spectra broke off just as her eyelids began to weigh heavier. "Lucky for you, I'm just taking a little sip." She pushed her prey back into the leaves and stepped onto the edge of the nest.
She turned her head back to Lunti. "Sweet dreams, sweet thing."
The scouts were returning before the sun rose on Marblestop. Four owls, six crows, three otters, and a snake. They moved deep into the forest before transforming before their princesses.
"What did you see?" Majesta asked. It was only the second day of the reconnaissance and Spectra's larger sister was already taking control of the war.
"No Changelings, your highness," one lieutenant bowed. "We have spotted ponies on the streets, however. They're sticking to the centre of the village."
"A pack as small as Halfwing's couldn't hope to eradicate all of Marblestop," Tenacity commented, taking her stance right beside Majesta. "They must be the survivors. In which case, they'll attack us on sight as well if they suspect we're Changelings."
"Or welcome us as saviours if we play it right" Spectra countered. "We can take the form of ponies and call ourselves Marblestop soldiers. Make them think we're on their side."
Both Majesta and Tenacity wanted to take a tougher stance, seeing no point in worrying over a few stray ponies, but the lieutenants exuded a scent of confidence and trust.
Most of them were from Zorne's pack, and each lieutenant had as much experience as a typical captain. Her sisters knew that if they supported Spectra, then it was likely the right choice.
Then Majesta did something neither of her sisters expected. "Spectra should take the lead, then."
Eyes wide, Spectra stared at her sister handing authority over to her. "What?"
"You've lived side-by-side with the other survivors," Majesta said. "Even if you taught us everything your groundskeeper taught you, we'd still be less experienced."
"If she's handling that, then what will we be doing?" Tenacity protested. Dead tree branched snapped under her hooves as she stomped her frustration out.
"Watching the border of the village," Majesta answered. "If the survivors were free to roam, then they'd have all tried escaping to Riverfork like their fellow ponies."
"While I was in Riverfork, no pony arrived by land," Spectra answered.
"Meaning there must be something stopping the remaining survivors from leaving," Majesta continued. "Something like our sister's pack, keeping an eye on the village borders."
Now that she saw the plan, Tenacity nodded in agreement. "They're probably hidden as animals or other ponies. The scouts didn't see them when they passed over."
The senior lieutenant interjected their planning. "If I may, your majesties."
"Go ahead," Majesta permitted.
"A couple scouts reported that they saw unusual behaviour in some of the ponies," he told them. "Some carried weapons and openly practised with them. These were near the border of the village."
"Then those must be Halfwing's hunter-drones," Spectra's wings buzzed with excitement.
"And they'll smell your magic the moment you get near them." Majesta dismissed the scouts with a wave of her hoof.
The three sistered stayed near the edge of the forest, peering through the trees to see the marble buildings across the river.
"We'll need a plan to take out Halfwing's pack when you enter the village," Tenacity said. "And a quiet one. The moment we cause any alarms, the ponies will probably cause too much trouble and alert out sister."
"Agreed," Spectra said with a smile. "But as long as something keeps their attention inside, they won't notice an army slipping in from the outside."
Standing in Marblestop for the first time was surreal. Spectra saw everything she had learned about. Images that were once dots and names on paper turned to marble buildings and paved roads.
They arrived in boats disguised as ponies, she and her personal pack. She kept count of them in her mind: twenty-two hunter-drones, four lieutenants, and her captain. Her sisters by now should have encircled the entire village.
Marblestop may have been smaller than Riverfork, but the village was still massive in scale. Canals ran the length of the village, cutting through the buildings and streets. As soon as the winter ended, Spectra guessed these were the waterways that would redirect the spring floods.
"There are fewer ponies out on the streets today," a songbird chirped from atop a granary that had its wall broken down. "Might mean trouble."
Spectra nodded but kept moving into the village, away from the freezing wind and water blowing in from the river. The bird was one of Zorne's hunter-drones. Aside from the rear guard left to watch over the ponies, Zorne had his entire pack transformed as birds and rodents across the village. They couldn't mask their magic completely, but that was part of the whole plan.
With just a fraction of Zorne's pack helping her's, Spectra had fifty Changelings moving through Marblestop. Without a doubt, it'd raise alarms throughout what was left of Halfwing's pack.
"This place looks completely different," a couple lieutenants whispered to each other as they strode through the commercial district.
Of course they know what to expect. Even though they were in command, the princesses still had less experience than even the youngest lieutenant hunter-drone. Many of them have been on hunts before, and have seen much more of the world in the process.
But whatever her sister did to Marblestop, it was new even to her hunter-drones. "Since we're the bait," Spectra said as they passed busted-down doors, "we should take some time to find out what happened. So far it seems the survivors have abandoned this section of the village, but be ready to act like we're scout's from Marblestop's militia."
Every hunter-drone in the pack nodded and set their focus on their tasks. Spectra realized even though her command was an over-simplification of a much larger task, her pack had the experience to carry it out. Lieutenants were assigned hunter-drones by the captain and they quickly looked through the damaged buildings.
The captain stuck close to Spectra as she decided to take a look herself. "For a small pack," the captain commented, "Princess Halfwing inflicted massive losses on Marblestop."
"She had the element of surprise." Spectra walked through the storefront of an olive workshop. She could smell the apparatus in the back used to process the pitted fruit into various products. Some of the spilt content was scented, some were for cooking, while other bottles had a mixture used to fuel lamps.
The captain scrunched his nose when he smelled the flower-scented oils. "Not enough. Not for destruction this big. Even our forces would have had trouble against the whole village."
He pointed to the servants' quarter. "You see that?"
Spectra followed his pointing hoof. Next to the workshop was a medium-sized room, furnished with six rickety beds and curtains between them as walls. The building itself was made out of caementine, with only small windows along the top of the walls for light.
"Never seen a servants' quarter like this," Spectra said. "I thought ponies treated even their drones as comrades."
"Some, but not all their drones are the same," her captain explained. He kept an eye on the entrance while Spectra inspected the room. "I've heard all sorts of names that mean different things: servants, labourers, serfs. I believe Marblestop calls them slaves."
Spectra turned slowly, looking around the room. Despite the poor condition of the room, everything was in place. Things were not smashed or turned over like the rest of the workshop. Even the glass in the small windows was still intact. She wondered how that was possible.
"Whatever they call them, it looks like Halfwing ignored them." Spectra concluded her search and walked back out, leaving the workshop.
Her captain followed. "Not much time for love among slaves. Plenty of hate, however."
"They must have had mixed feelings when they found their masters under attack then," Spectra mused, imagining ponies fighting between fear of her sister's pack, and relief that they no longer had to work for their oppressors. As they walked down the street, both of them heard the high pitched call of one of Zorne's scouts.
A small herd of ponies is headed your way. Coming from the centre of the village.
No doubt if they could hear the message, the rest of her pack heard it as well. She changed her vocal chords to emit a call too high for pony ears to pick up.
"We're done investigating," she commanded. "Move toward the ponies, and be prepared to sell our story."
Both groups eyed each other cautiously as they met in the open street. Walked brazenly in the front of her pack, however. The locals knew the village better, and if they were comfortable enough to be walking out in the open, then her sister's pack must not have been close.
Their clothes were worn, but not tattered, and they carried crude weapons on their side. Many just had clubs made from debris and household items. Only a few, Spectra counted three, carried real spears.
Were they Changelings, monitoring the herd like a shepherd? Spectra focused her nose on their magic as best she could but there was no sign of Changeling magic, besides her pack. She guessed even some of the surviving ponies would have gotten their hooves on weapons. It's unlikely they would've survived otherwise.
The herd of ponies stood across the street from her pack. Spectra decided to give the first signal and win their trust. She invited the ponies, silently waving them over with her hoof. They seemed wary, trading glances to decide what to do. But finally, the herd sent a few of their stallions over to meet hooves.
Unsurprisingly, the one who led them was armed with a spear. The other two carried tree branched with a slightly sharpened point on one side.
"Haven't seen you around here before." The spear holder took a good look at Spectra's pack. From their hairstyles to the way they stood, her hunter-drones had mimicked the Marblestop militia perfectly.
Her captain took the lead in the conversation, as planned. "We're surprised we ran into you so quickly. We just arrived from Riverfork."
The spear-holder narrowed his eyes at the captain. "Why would any pony from Riverfork come here?"
There was a pause as the captain swivelled his head around, double checking his surroundings. "Can you be sure there aren't any Changelings around?"
"We're alone," the stallion replied.
Spectra could tell by the scent of his magic that it was true. Besides, if one of Halfwing's drones had hidden among the ponies, at this range she'd be able to smell their Changeling magic, even if they were wearing Marblestop perfumes.
"I'm Captain Fairview," her captain said."Commander Iridi sent us to scout out the situation here. The rest who escaped, they might plan a counter-offensive depending on what information we bring back to them."
"Is that so?" The stallion's eyes widened. "Well then, the name's Septarian."
The other two ponies whispered something to each other but kept close and Spectra couldn't make out their words. She only smelled confusion in the magic.
"We should take them to the village centre," one of the other ponies told Septarian.
Spectra kept her view along the rooftops. Zorne's hunter-drones were watching the dialogue as well. No doubt they were judging her skill at fooling the ponies, but also watching for any threats.
The spear-holder nodded and gestured the pack to follow across the street and rejoin with the rest of the herd. Spectra's captain kept by his side, discussing the situation while the hunter-drones mingled with the locals as if they really were refugees that had finally returned home.
The captain and spear-holder kept at the front of the herd. "The commander's cautious. A lot of us have settled down in Riverfork, and the urge to return is slowly dwindling."
"Then he should be pushing harder to attack while we still have morale," the pony replied.
The captain shook his head. "He thinks if we lose, every pony will just give up and stay where we are now."
The spear-holder went silent. Spectra figured he was considering the position of the refugees in Riverfork, imagining the amount of help that would actually arrive. He was some kind of leader, though Spectra could only guess his role among the surviving Marblestop ponies.
"Between you and me," her captain added. "I want to sleep in my own bed. Riverfork ponies make their beds way too soft."
The spear-holder laughed. "Don't worry. Once you tell the commander how many ponies are still fighting here, you won't have trouble getting his support."
Spectra let her pack disperse themselves throughout the herd. It seemed natural for returning soldiers to try catching up on everything that had happened since the attack. Spectra listened in on every conversation on the way to the village centre.
She noted which streets were destroyed, which temples were still operational, and where her sister's pack had last been seen. She wondered, also, how her other sisters were doing on their side of the mission. It was doubtless that Halfwing had her eyes on the border of the village, which meant for Majesta and Tena to push in from outside, she'd have to draw a bigger crowd.
"How have you managed to stay away from the Changelings?" Spectra asked the spear-holder.
No, Septarian. Spectra refreshed his name in her mind. It didn't do her any favours to treat the ponies like drones. They were a lot more unpredictable, and she needed to be on their good side if it came down to a fight. If anything gave away her disguise, the whole pack, Zorne's drones included, would be facing a village that, by Seris's own estimate, had thousands of survivors still in it.
"They keep to themselves," Septarian replied. "The initial attack they did took enough ponies. Haven't really seen them around, save for outside the village."
Spectra and her captain nodded. Halfwing was near, but not in the village. She'd have to be drawn back in from the village borders if Majesta and Tenacity had any hope of surrounding her.
Ahead the centre of the village came into view, and Spectra decided she needed to instruct her hunter-drones to be more thorough in their reports. What she saw was more than just a gathering of ponies; hundreds of ponies worked in unison to clean up the damage that still remained from Halfwing's attack.
Builders poured caementine into cracks and holes in the floors and walls. Blacksmiths hammered out nails and horseshoes for the builders. Even new buildings were being constructed over the existing shops and homes. The village centre was a massive square of flat caementine with a fountain in the middle. Though it had lost its water, the painted tiles still looked clean and polished.
At each corner of the square was a place of worship for one Marblestop's patron gods. They were spirits of stone, Spectra remembered from talking with Voxa, and their temples showed no sign of deterioration. As Septarian guided Spectra's pack into the village square, they passed interlocking scaffolds that climbed over the temples. Thicker walls and taller towers were being added. In all the violence that had torn apart their homes, Spectra was surprised to see them defending their faith so strongly.
"...we don't know where they keep them." Spectra refocused her attention on the dialogue between her captain and Septarian.
"Can't convince the commander to attack if we don't know where the enemy is," her captain replied, still pushing for more ways to flush out Halfwing's pack.
Septarian gestured to the fountain. "I'll get the rest of the leaders to meet you before we introduce you to every pony. If there is some information about the Changelings, I'm sure it'll be brought forward once everyone knows what you're here to do."
"Very well," her captain replied. "As long as the Changelings aren't around, I suppose we have long enough to wait."
Septarian nodded and left the pack to mingle with the rest of the Marblestop survivors. Spectra looked around, picking out her own drones in the crowd as she walked through the square. Subtle nods here and there were commands for her drones to join conversations with key groups.
Half worked on construction projects, talking to builders and blacksmiths to figure out anything in the structures that would be advantageous if it came down to a fight. She had the rest stick their ears into any talk about the Changelings. She and her captain kept to the edge of the village centre.
"Probably dozens of ponies are still out in the village, scouting like Septarian's herd was," he summed up once they were out of earshot. Her captain walked slightly ahead, giving off the impression that he was the one in command to any pony who bothered to look.
"It doesn't matter," Spectra replied. "Zorne's drones probably already warned my sisters that Halfwing's not in the village."
"So it's a change of plans then?" her captain asked, however, it sounded a lot more like a suggestion. Either way, Spectra was inclined to agree.
She shifted her glance to the hills further inland where Marblestop's quarries and nature's forests clashed. "Hopefully they do what I expect them to and stay outside of the village. They'll probably be searching for Hafwing by combing through every bush and leaf in the woods."
The two stopped by the back of the temple to the Phoenix. "You're right, your highness. But we better act quickly before Princess Majesta and Princess Tenacity give up on their hunt and leave with our reinforcements in tow."
Spectra raised a brow. "How do you know they will? We may be gambling on the hope that my sisters won't actually be able to find Halfwing. But if they do find her..."
Her captain shook his head. "Not likely. A single pack can stay hidden in a forest almost indefinitely. It's just too much land to cover, and too small of a target."
Spectra didn't have much time to consider her next steps. They both heard the commotion of the village square die down, replaced with a few louder voices coming from the very centre.
"That'll be our queue," Spectra said, following behind her captain.
"At this rate, we should quit hunting all just work as actors," he joked, shifting his voice to become slightly lower and rougher, exactly in the fashion that Marblestop stallions spoke.
But as soon as they started moving to the centre, Spectra could feel something was wrong. The atmosphere had changed. Though most of the ponies tried hiding it, she could smell adrenaline spiking in their blood. Their magic radiated an ocean of worries, but there were so many ponies in the village square, Spectra couldn't pick any single emotion out.
"Smell that too?" her captain asked her but kept his eyes on the other leaders walking with Septarian. Spectra followed his gaze.
They weren't armed like he was. One looked like a carpenter, another had rough hooves as if he was a farmer or a dock worker. All the others looked the same. In total there were ten leaders, each most likely in charge of some aspect of rebuilding the village.
But Spectra had experience with leaders and how they handled crowds. The way Seris spoke, in front of Riverfork's council members especially, was direct. Leaders met their followers with their eyes, looking into the crowd. But these ponies kept their eyes up. Looking around but never at the ponies gathering toward them.
Spectra gave subtle nods with her head to signal her pack to close in on them. Eliminating the leaders would throw the village into a frenzy and draw out Halfwing for sure. As for escape, undoubtedly Zorne's drones were close enough to provide cover if any of the ponies were brave enough to give chase.
But even as they closed the distance, something was wrong about their eyes. Only halfway through the crowd did Spectra see their pupils, and what they were focusing on, and it was like looking into a mirror. They weren't watching their crowd.
Spectra grabbed her captain and turned him around to see the streets that led into the village centre. The leaders were signalling. In the crowd of ponies, Spectra couldn't differentiate the smells of the citizens from the soldiers who were closing off every exit. Brick and wood that had been placed by construction sites were now pushed over and blocking the streets.
"What is the meaning of this?" shouted her captain. "Have you lost your minds, we're here to liberate you!"
Septarian just laughed. "Lady Changeling was right, your kind still don't understand much about ponies."
Lady Changeling? It was impossible, Spectra thought. There was no way ponies would willingly work for her sister if they knew her true nature. She focused her nose again to pick out Changeling magic in the air, but she only sensed her pack still. Which also meant Zorne's drones weren't in the village centre either.
"Are you all insane?" Spectra could smell confusion in her captain and her drones, but nevertheless, they kept their act going. "How many of you here are even real ponies?" Her captained whirled his head around. He looked panicked, but in a quick sweep, Spectra knew he had taken a mental picture of their battleground.
Dozens of ponies armed with makeshift clubs and spears stood in every street behind blockades of rubble and debris. Spectra could hear the fluttering of wings just beyond the village centre: a whole flock of birds. Below, old waterways build from caementine flooded with small mammals, their scent lingering just outside the square. It was Zorne's hunter-drones, no doubt. But something was stopping them from reaching the pack.
Septarian smirked at her captain. The demeanour sent chills down Spectra's spine. As Changelings, they were used to being looked down on when they took disguises that were weak. For the hunt, they could endure anything.
But though she was young, Spectra knew no pony had ever dared to look down at a Changeling once they knew the truth. Their prey cowered. It was in her instinct. Memories from her egg-dream flooded back, reminding her of the fear Changelings could wield. But maybe that was exactly the problem.
Lady Changeling. Her sister had done the opposite of what any of them expected. They knew. The whole village accepted Halfwing.
He extended his leg, Septarian. And that sight told Spectra every part of the story she needed to know. Scars ran around his leg, marks left behind by the chains used to keep slaves controlled. Now that she knew what to look for, the hindsight made her feel blind for not noticing it before.
She could see healed cuts and scrapes peeking out from under the clothes of some of the other Marblestop ponies. There were dozens of them that she could see. But if she had to guess, Spectra figured every single pony Halfwing had spared was a slave.
She and her captain traded glances. They knew they both had come to the same conclusion. Halfwing was supposed to blend in with Marblestop society. Instead, she created a new one, a village of liberated slaves that would revere her as a hero.
"If you were real ponies," Septarian goaded, "you wouldn't be coming to us as friends. When Lady Changeling freed us, we happily revolted against the masters and offered them to her, in exchange for our village."
"Well you missed a few, by our accounts," her captain replied, trying to stretch the banter along. The ponies were in a position of power. If he could keep the talk going, they might hesitate just long enough for an opportunity to show itself.
"Well, whatever the case may be, eighty noble ponies seems enough for Lady Changeling's appetite." The other leaders acted as if on queue, raising their hooves to gesture to the soldiers surrounding the village square, all while Septarian continued talking.
"I know you can smell our every thought," Septarian laughed. "But I wasn't lying when I said I didn't know where they were. No, she'll be coming to you. After that..." He gave a mocking shrug.
Spectra pooled as much magic as she could into her horn. The time for subtlety was over. Septarian was done talking.
Halfwing stretched awake, looking off the edge of her nest. Today was when she would test her power. The young drones would be no problem. They were born at the same time as her, and would falter on any order she gave them. The lieutenants, she was uncertain about. Maybe it wasn't too late to ask the groundskeeper for help.
The Queen commands me to watch over this nest. The fact that you're here doesn't change that. Do what you will, I won't lift a hoof to help or hinder.
No, they were loyal to a fault, groundskeepers. She'd have to hope the pressure from her drones would be enough to sway the lieutenants.
And then there was the captain. "That plan will never work. We're here to guide your hunt, not expose ourselves to all of pony kind." He had his orders from her mother. The Queen's orders, Halfwing scoffed at that phrase. Over and over, it's all the captain and groundskeeper would talk about when she pressed them too hard.
What did the Queen ever do for her? Halfwing looked at her left side. She could see a healthy, shining wing; it was exactly how it should have been. She turned to her right. There was a deformed stub, twitching around whenever she flapped her wings as if it was trying to remember what it was supposed to do.
Her sister crippled her, and her mother did nothing but dangle the failure in her face. Her instinct told her she was born because there needed to be a new Queen. No Queen of the hive ever let her daughters live, not unless she felt it was time to relinquish the throne for a new generation. She remembered her egg-dreams, focusing on the vague memories of a distant Queen. Perhaps it was her grandmother, or maybe it went even farther back.
I can't keep up with the ponies anymore, my daughter. Their farms are popping up all over our hunting grounds, and they're too smart to fool with our old methods. You've beaten the rest. Now, take the mantle.
Halfwing rose to her hooves. In that egg-dream, the princess who became the queen conveyed no emotion. There was nothing but a simple duty to serve the hive and the Changeling species. Halfwing looked at her right side one more time. She'd take the mantle of Queen Chrysalis. But this time, she swore to herself, there would be satisfaction.
She croaked a low pitched call to one of her hunter-drones. Another inconvenience she had to suffer through because of her sister.
The drone was close and attentive, acting as her wings whenever she needed to fly. "Are you ready to make for Marblestop, princess?"
"Not before breakfast," she said. "And I don't feel like moving yet. Grab a few others and go find the biggest creature stuck in the traps."
The drone nodded and flew off hastily, not wanting to waste any time when it came to the princess. Even with her injury, she still had the only power that mattered: the power to control.
But, since it'd take a while to check the traps, Halfwing figured a little magic practice wouldn't hurt. She sank her magic low into her stomach, feeling the burn of its power as her inner organs melted into simple tissues, reforming into new shapes and structures.
First, she tried a hawk. She had seen plenty in the forest around the nest. The transformation felt whole and complete. She told herself there'd be no difference this time, but she couldn't help but look to her right again. The right wing was missing, just like as it was with every attempt.
She tried others forms: owls, bats, crows, and eventually a pegasus. She flexed her one good wing, looking at herself. The hooves were healthy and her coat was soft and warm, like every other mammal she had seen in the forest. Everything about her pegasus form was perfect, except the right wing.
She sighed and changed back. Try as she might, her body didn't know what it was like to have that other wing. No matter what she changed into, her mind couldn't conceive it. And without a will to guide it, magic would not build her a new wing by itself.
Her captain and the groundskeeper assured her it was as much a mental block as it was physical, that once she mastered transforming she'd be able to fly as any creature she wished. All Halfwing could do now was hope they were right and wait.
Her drone watched as Halfwing stripped the leg bone of a boar bare. The squealing animal was twitching from shock, but the damage came on so suddenly that it was still alive enough to channel magic through its body.
"Tell me how the rest of the pack is doing," she told her hunter-drone while she ate.
"Did exactly as you asked," he responded. "We cleaned out every trap and syphoned as much magic as we could. Every hunter-drone but the captain and lieutenants are charged up with as much magic as possible."
"Good." Halfwing took her attention off the boar's leg and sank her fangs into its neck for a killing bite, drinking up all its fear and pain before it bled to death. She cleaned herself on its fur and rose from the corpse after licking off the scraps of muscle on her chitin.
Her plan was ambitious because of the time frame. They had only just left the hive a few days ago; it hadn't even been a week. The captain warned her not to rush the process, but she suspected he was starting to realize she wasn't planning to follow the rules.
"Take me to the shore, and have someone tell the captain to meet me there," she commanded. Her drone nodded, and Halfwing assumed the humiliating position to let her drone lift her up.
She stood with her legs wider as if she was bowing to the Queen, allowing room for the drone's legs to wrap under her and lock firmly together. She kept her one good wing closed tight by her side as the hunter-drone carried her away from the nest.
Changelings were light for their size compared to mammals, but even Halfwing's weight proved to be no easy feat for the drone. He flew casually through the branches, but the humming of his wings sounded like he was pushing at his maximum effort.
But, they came quick enough at the shore. There, five young hunter-drones were waiting for them with a small fishing boat. It wasn't much, which was exactly the kind of vessel Halfwing needed to get into Marblestop without drawing too much attention.
Across the river, she looked at the docks of Marblestop. At this distance, it was impossible to make out much of what was happening in the village. Only the misty morning breeze carried scents across the river; Halfwing could smell coal dust, marble and granite, and red-hot iron being hammered at forges, exactly as the groundskeeper said.
"Princess, we're too ahead of schedule," her captain said, approaching with the rest of the pack from behind. "If you want to out-hunt the other princesses, that's fine. But I urge you to take another day or two of training."
"Are you not prepared for the hunt, captain?" Halfwing whirled around and peered at her hunter-drone. He was slightly taller than her--than all the other Changelings--and he wore a layer of armour fashioned from the carapace of the brothers he dominated in his youth. Even as a princess, Halfwing could feel his authority. But she wouldn't let herself be pushed over just because of her age.
"If you're not ready, I suppose it would be better to wait," she said again, this time visibly irking the captain.
She could smell a hint of indignation in his magic. "I just came back from checking the traps, and they're all empty, and the lieutenants haven't had a chance to regain their magic. It just shows you are too impatient to hunt."
"So a minor problem, then." Halfwing acknowledged that he had a point, but she didn't care. "Is that all, captain?"
His eyes bulged. "What? Is that all?" The captain let his jaw hang open, but her words threw him off too much to even give a reply.
"The Queen sent you, yes," she said, boarding the boat without any hesitation. "But she's not here, your princess is. And I say that now is the time to hunt."
"I don't care about the cost, find me some pony who can handle the blast crystals." The miner nodded and galloped for the quartermaster's tent.
The newest aqueduct was days from being finished. If not for the damage from the last cave in, everything would be going smoothly. Tiger Iron slumped into his office seat, in a little wooden shack temporarily set up to oversee the construction.
He left the comfort of his home for this job? Halfwing wondered to herself as she tried to stretch in the small chair. The road to from Marblestop to its mines was long and cut through the forest, a perfect place to kidnap the real Tiger Iron and insert herself as his replacement, but now she was wondering if it would've been better just to risk it and sneak into the governor's home.
A knock came on the office door. "You have a letter from Morganite, sir."
The merchant at the docks. Halfwing recomposed herself and slipped into the role of a hardened overseer.
"Just leave it in the mailbox, I'm in the middle of some papers," she lied. The rusted iron box squeaked open and shut. After a few moments, Halfwing stepped outside to grab the letter.
Standing on the porch of the office, she could sense everything that went on in the mine. To her left, a small hole in the side of a cliff opened into a narrow passage of iron ore, and she could hear the three dozen slaves that had been sent down there in the morning still hammering away at the bedrock.
The smell of sand and crushed gravel filled her nose from the construction site of the new aqueduct that would connect the mine to the nearest reservoir of water. Caementine was poured by the barrel, filling up massive sections of the support structure.
The trickiest part was right in front of her, however. She watched as five tentative slaves pushed a wagon laden in heavy crystals, all enchanted by unicorns in a far-off village. From what she heard, it cost a fortune to get the governor to agree to sell the crystals from the village coffers. The crystals come from the north, whose trade fleet would not arrive in the south for another six months.
Still, they were vital to the operation. Not just clearing the stones that had piled up in the wake of yesterday's accident, which triggered a landslide to wipe out half of the aqueduct, but also her own plans. Halfwing opened the letter.
I did what you asked, but it was tricky. Hopefully, those backing your project won't notice how much they're actually spending to get the mine up and running. My boss certainly hasn't noticed the extra boxes of blast crystals I placed in your shipment. So, that's my part done. Now it's time for your end of the deal.
She smirked, wondering what her hunter-drones had to do with the original crystal merchant. Whatever "tricky" meant probably wasn't pleasant, but she didn't have time to focus on that detail. The drone certainly meant the captain when he wrote about the boss. Technically speaking, the pack was ordered not to interfere with the hunt so early on.
If the captain found out, he'd stop her without hesitation and drag her back to the hive as a failure. He'd have twenty pounds of blasting crystals to get through first, however.
"Careful with those," she shouted at the slaves, "one wrong move and yesterday's landslide is going to seem like a sneeze compared to the damage those crystals can do."
By the end of the day, everything would be in place for her ascension. She had only arrived yesterday, but she learned enough about Marblestop to know that those with masters would rise to her call.
"I was born a slave," one young stallion had told her yesterday when she managed to catch him in the middle of his duties. "My mother became a slave when her debt grew too high. She traded her freedom for twenty years to pay off her debt, but died halfway through when she had me."
The status passed on, and as soon as a child of a slave was old enough to work, they began working to pay off their parent's debts. That stallion had eight years left to give to his master. Two other mares Halfwing had passed after she arrived had it worse.
The father died and the mother had to take care of their oldest sister. They were both sold for twenty years of labour to support their family. Halfwing didn't have to imagine the kind of mother who would do that to her daughters just to raise the strongest one.
But, those ponies and all the others like them still needed leaders. Those would need to be consulted, to ensure they knew their part in her plan. Fortunately, there were plenty of slaves who were easily influenced into being the wardens for their kidnapped master.
Halfwing stretched her legs and decided to head out for a walk. Mining procedures would go as planned. The slaves were already instructed to leave three boxes of the blasting crystals in reserve. Tonight, her drones will know where to pick it up.
"Heading out sir?" One of the assistant overseers caught up to Tiger Iron on the way out of the mining camp.
Halfwing waved the stallion away. "The office is stuffy as hell. Need to take a walk, and find a place to give a real prayer to the spirits."
He nodded. "Alright, but be back quick. The construction crew's nervous enough as it is with all the blasting crystals lying around."
"Well tell them to get over it," she barked back. "Mines use them all the time, and we don't lose more than a couple slaves now and then."
Halfwing turned away from the concerned pony and hurried along the path out of the camp. The more she lingered the more questions that would be asked. The path faded away at a few places, expected from a dirt road. But she even though she didn't have enough time to study the forest, she could still find her way by scent.
The pine trees were densest around where she had kidnapped the real Tiger Iron. Halfwing breathed in, taking in the scent of pony and pine leaves, following it off the path. She trod carefully as to not mark where she was going by making a trail of broken twigs.
Finally, she followed the scent to a bear cave. It was an opening in the soft dirt with a gentle incline into the earth. Deep gashes in the roots of bushes revealed where a bear grabbed to pull itself up to the surface. But even its strong scent was long gone. Now it was a safe house, set up by the groundskeeper, for hunter-drones in the middle of a hunt.
Halfwing slipped her head in and wiggled through the narrow gap. Though it once was meant for a bear, hunter-drones had long since narrowed it to be more concealed, and fit their more flexible forms.
Tiger Iron, however, was not a narrow form, and his midsection threatened to get Halfwing stuck in the hole. It took more than just a little determination to force her way through. Once inside, the cave reached to her left before taking a sharp turn into a larger space on the right.
"Shut up about it, they're coming back," a voice hissed from inside the cave. "You can ask them yourself if you're so curious."
Halfwing prepared herself. She and a couple of her drones had approached the slaves last night about kidnapping Tiger Iron, but they did so in disguise as other ponies. She wondered what the slaves must have been thinking. Whatever their thoughts, she was certain they didn't expect Tiger Iron to be the pony walking into the cave.
"Ask me what?" she said in her form's deeper voice. Each of them froze for a second, long enough for her to read the room. There were a few new scents in the dim cave, most likely friends that tagged along to get revenge on their master. But one of the ponies she had recruited the previous night radiated excitement from the crowd of eleven.
He stuck his hoof out. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "I knew something was up. A random pony kidnapping Tiger Iron was too good to be true."
"What the hell Eudia?" A stallion armed with a spear stepped forward. His scent was new to Halfwing. "You said a pony asked you to come out here."
Most of the others darted their eyes between Halfwing and their prisoner, who was still tied up, and considerably more beaten up than he was when Halfwing left him.
The mare the spear-holder barked at grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back. However, her eyes were fixated on Halfwing.
"Well, there's certainly a lot more of you than I remember," Halfwing mused. It was pleasant to watch the slaves recoil at her presence, and even more entertaining to smell the dread in the real Tiger Iron when recognized himself. Still, she kept her distance. The ponies outnumbered her, and in this confined space there was little chance of escaping before they caught up to her.
So instead, Halfwing adopted a casual tone. "I guess a late-night visit was enough to make me seem suspicious. Or was it kidnapping your slave master?"
The excited one placed himself beside the spear-holder. "Septarian, don't outright kill it. Imagine how much we'd be paid for capturing one."
"Enough to pay for all our freedom, I know," he spear-holder growled.
"You said you'd help us!" shouted the mare apparently named Eduia. "You, you're a Changeling, right? The same kind that the stories talk about?"
"What? Of course it is!" The excited pony looked incredulously at Eudia. "I know it's dark, but that looks exactly like Tiger Iron."
"And as Tiger Iron," Halfwing interrupted, "I've set in motion to free not only you but all the slaves in Marblestop." Like magic, those words stunned them.
"That's impossible," one voice said.
Other followed. "Can we even trust you?"
The spear-holder, Halfwing noted his name was Septarian from what the excited pony said, levelled the point of his weapon, aiming it at Halfwing.
"Your kind never involves us."
Halfwing shrugged. "Maybe not, but times change."
"And why would you bother changing things?" he asked in reply.
Halfwing gave a genuine chortle. "You're kidding, right? Changing things is what I do, it's in the name Changeling."
"You know what I mean," Septarian continued to press. "What do you get out of it?"
Halfwing thought the same to herself for a moment. "An army willing to sacrifice a village full of slave masters to me. It's a lot more than I can get from hiding among your kind."
Her bluntness threw off the spear-holder and energized the excited one even more than she thought was possible.
"A revolt?" he exclaimed. "Oh, that's so much better than my plan."
Septarian flicked his head over to him. "You gotta be joking Fireblood. You were the one who guessed it was a Changeling all along."
The excited one, Fireblood apparently, just shrugged. "Like it said, time to change things up."
"I can see you all might need more time to discuss this among yourselves." Halfwing took a step back to show she wasn't a threat. "I have other things I need to take care of. If you decide you want true freedom, however, gather at the phoenix temple at sundown."
"Wait, what about this Tiger Iron?" The question came from the other slaves.
But, Halfwing just waved the concern away. "You have time to talk about this. When you've made your choice, just leave him tied up. Even if he escapes, it'll be too late to stop the liberation anyway."
She turned and left the ponies to discuss, finally letting herself grin at the flurry of emotions that danced along their magic. Though it was mostly fear, picking out the confusion and shred of hope made the delicate scents even more precious. No doubt they were still reeling from their encounter with Tiger Iron's replacement, and that was without knowing how important she really was.
In truth, she wasn't certain they'd join in. But if they did, it would make controlling the village a lot easier in the future. It would be easy to blow up a few buildings with crystals and scare off the governor of Marblestop with her drones, like smacking a beehive with a rock.
But making those bees settle down again, that was much tougher. Without other slaves backing her, she'd be fighting a much harder fight to control the village. She wanted complacent sheep, not fiery dogs. But whether she would get one or the other was up in the air until tonight.
"What do we do if they don't show?" Halfwing listened to the worries of her hunter-drones. They were the same as her own; if the ponies were too frightened of their masters to rise up, her pack would be spread too thin.
But the hunt was in full motion now, and she had to shake off the doubt. "Continue like I planned. A box of crystals goes to the governor's mansion. Spread the rest across the village and attack the ponies fleeing in the streets."
The one thing that would spread faster than her drones was panic. As soon as one pony saw a Changeling, word would spread. By daybreak, she expected most of the village would have cleared out on their boats.
Her drones flew off. They had their tasks, and Halfwing had to stay behind and hope that the slaves would show up. She leaned back on a pile of pillows, one of many that circled a shrine to one of Marblestop's four patron spirits. Phoenix, the spirit of fire and rebirth, was a poet place to begin her ascension.
Marble columns stretched up, holding the ceiling up but also displaying colourfully painted mosaics. They were stories of the phoenix, and why it was valued as the chief spirit in all of Marblestop.
One story had a fire gleaming in the sky, raining down drops of fire that became phoenixes. The next showed nests in a forest, with trees burning around them. From the ashes, the painted earth became a volcano, red earth flowing over wet riverlands and forming mountains of stone.
The final image rest on a small shrine. It looked nothing more than a stack of rocks, but at the top, it had a nest, a phoenix nest. Halfwing imagined that was when the Espera would tell ponies that Marblestop was built around a shrine to the phoenix.
But this evening, there were no stories. Services had ended and the Espera had retired to her home beside the governor's mansion. Halfwing wondered what her origin story was. If the spirits of ponies were real, then which one was responsible for building the hive? Where did her kind come from?
Halfwing shook the thought from her head. She could hear multiple hooves making their way toward the temple. They were tentative and swamped with nervous and excited emotions, and she didn't need to guess what they were coming to the temple for.
She rose from the pillows and met the slaves at the entrance of the temple. They were perfectly punctual, arriving as the last flicker of sunlight had dipped underneath the horizon and the braziers dominated the night's light.
"You, you're the other Tiger Iron, right?" The pony taking the lead was the one they called Septarian. Halfwing wasn't surprised. He looked the younger by a few years, a stallion at his prime with the muscles from hard labour to back his words.
Halfwing looked down at her hooves. She actually forgot she had switched forms to bribe a couple militia guards to look away from her activities. She wasn't sure who she was mimicking, but her drones told her it was a rich merchant's wife.
"I suppose it's not a hard guess, knowing what I am," Halfwing smirked. "I take it you're ready to fight for your freedom?"
"We've got no other choice," Septarian answered. "Had to leave the real Tiger Iron behind, but we can't be sure he won't find a way out of that rope. If we fail, and it turns out he escaped, the penalty is death."
She chuckled at his paranoia. Spending a day in another pony's body taught a lot, and she was certain the chubby stallion would never find a way to escape his bindings, even if he had a lifetime to work at them. Still, she didn't want to say anything that would lessen their conviction.
"I picked a good batch then," she told them while gesturing with her hoof to follow. "I'll instruct you all on the plan while we walk. I have to meet up with some of my kind when the revolt starts, so we best hurry."
They headed out of the village centre as quickly as they could without drawing attention. Marblestop was peaceful, but that didn't mean there weren't any militia patrolling the paved roads in order to keep the peace. They passed homes carved from marble slabs held together by caementine, each an independent manse.
Though rough and filled with pebbles, the houses still had gardens surrounding them, with flowers and olive trees reaching all the way to the marble low walls that divided each piece of land. The way the slave looked at these houses, there was no doubt these gardens were maintained by slave labour.
However, even the biggest of them had only space for three or four slaves, Halfwing estimated. Her revolution would need to begin somewhere much bigger. She had the places marked in her mind, however, it was still risky enough to scare away the ponies.
Though most of the militia's garrisons and camps were outside the village, those who kept guard within the village stayed in small barracks throughout the village. Halfwing remembered the groundskeeper's lessons. Each soldier, according to him, had at least one slave to cook, clean, and maintain his weapons.
Halfwing directed the ponies to take whichever barrack they wanted; there was more than enough for them to choose.
"How will we know when to start?" Septarian asked as the last of the ponies snuck through the kitchen of a barrack.
It was a rebirth. The ponies' legend raged from the painted stone tiles onto the surface of Marblestop. The governor's mansion, cracked open by blasting crystals, tore apart under the weight of the revolting slaves. Like an infected cut, the ponies rushed into the body of the mansion and destroyed it from the inside. First, they took kitchen knives, then they took pony lives.
The quickness of the fighting was more than Halfwing expected. It seemed clear now that a revolution was set to happen with or without her intervention. Slaves all over the village, even from parts her pack didn't destroy with crystals, rushed into the streets. They dragged their masters into the streets and beat them to death with stones and hammers.
Many were stallions since males in Marblestop seemed to manage all the work done in the village. But, the slaves continued to the wives, burying them with their husbands, sometimes dead, but usually alive, and always after their delicate robes had been shredded from their bodies.
The blasting crystals targeted only the marble of the mansion, and Marblestop used so little wood in its buildings that even the barracks would have had little fuel for fires. Nevertheless, her ears reshaped internally to the precision of an owl's, could pick up the sound of wooden tables and bolts of fabric being set on fire and thrown into pits.
But something gnawed at Halfwing when they killed the children. The helpless foals were thrown into pits of fire that she had not planned to be there. She winced and instinctively looked at her right broken wing.
"Princess!" How long had her hunter-drone been shouting at her? Mesmerized by the violence, all she could do was follow the drone's hoof and find what he was pointing at.
Her pack was returning from their duties. Two drones from the commercial district by the river, three from the workshops of the middle-class housing. The slowest to return were the drones sent to destroy the homes of Marblestop's upper class.
"What wrong with them?" She asked her drone. He stared back at her, completely confused.
"You didn't hear it?" He reached out boldly and shook her to her senses. "They sent a warning call. Private guards put up a fight before they could escape."
The news forced Halfwing into the right mindset. She felt like she had won just then. All it took was a single cracked blasting crystal to blow open the mansion, and then she thought the whole village would fall before her hooves. The militia was slow to respond; they were caught off guard by the sudden explosions, making them easy to ambush. But even though the streets lacked their presence, Marblestop's wealthiest had personal protection as well.
Halfwing looked back down on the bloodied roads that cut through the village. "The slaves can free themselves now. Send out a call to all the drones to attack the wealthy districts."
The hunter-drone nodded. His raised head and shot a shrill call through the smoky night air. No pony would hear the call, but it was perfect range for a Changeling's ears. Halfwing forced her magic into her ears, changing its inner listening components back into their natural form. She had missed the call for help by being too focused on listening to the violence throughout the village.
"What should we do, Princess?"
She was their leader and had to be seen the right way. She had every right to order her hunter-drones to attack without her, but Halfwing knew she was still young. The fighting experience was invaluable if the captain decided he wouldn't betray his orders.
"How are you feeling?" She asked her drone.
He smiled and changed his body with magic, stretching out new pegasi wings. "Don't worry about me, Princess. Had a big breakfast."
She approved with a nod. "Then fly me there."
The scene was more or less the same as before. Fires burned as slaves tore homes apart for the keys to shackles. Some found hammers instead and shattered their oppressors of both flesh and iron. But Halfwing realized it was happening slower. While elsewhere in the village the slaves moved unhindered from house to house, the fighting in the wealthy district was sluggish.
Private guards rammed their shields against slaves, stopping them from massing together. Step by step, the slaves had to bleed their way from their beds to the freedom under the night sky.
Halfwing took aim, careful not to leave her horn too close to her hunter-drone, lest she blind him with the light from a blast of her horn. She fired two bursts of magic, forcing some of the guards to lose their focus and find themselves overwhelmed by the slaves.
Her drones needed little time to follow suit. Scream followed scream as ponies were dragged into unseen corners of houses to be fed on. Halfwing could smell the terror and adrenaline, common tastes as simple as a primitive rabbit's will to live. But the bittersweet anguish as ponies lost their friends and family painted their magic with multiple flavours of love.
Halfwing signalled with her hoof to land by a fountain, encircled by large marble homes and gardens. It was a large pavilion for the wealthy neighbourhood, open with plenty of room to move. No doubt this was where the slaves were pushing toward, where there was space enough for their number to matter.
She drank greedily from the flowing water. Despite the chaos, the laws of nature that the ponies managed to manipulate still worked, uncaring of whether ponies lived or were bleeding onto its painted ceramic tiles.
She pulled her head from the fountain, grabbing a breath of air. The smoke was making the air hot and hard to breathe, she noted.
Her drone dipped his head to take a drink as well but whirled around to the sound of approaching hooves. Halfwing followed his eyes to find a group of stallions, armed with spears and sticks, moving toward them.
Instinctively her drone moved her back, putting his body between the ponies and Halfwing. His horn was prepared to launch magic, but only when they came out of the cover of smoke did Halfwing recognize them.
"It's her!" the pony in the front called out. Septarian carried a spear with him, guiding the other ponies toward her. Though they were armed, their veins were flushed with fear instead of anger. She knew her hunter-drone smelled it too, or else he wouldn't have allowed them to approach.
"What are you doing here?" she asked Septarian as he ran up to her.
The stallion coughed as he tried to catch his breath. He tried speaking but needed a drink from the fountain before his throat allowed him to make any sound.
"I'm not exactly sure," he said. "One of your kind came out of nowhere, changed into monsters and started killing ponies everywhere."
"Monsters?" That puzzled Halfwing. Her drones had the freedom to fight among the slaves, and drain magic whenever they could, but killing so many ponies was a waste of prey. In any event, they all should have gathered in the wealthy district by now.
"Where was this Changeling?"
Septarian waved some of his fellow ponies over and they quickly chatted among each other.
"It came onto the docks as an alligator, but once it hit the markets it was a manticore," he said. "We ran here because it's tearing a path of bodies strait to this side of the village."
Halfwing felt her hunter-drone's hoove bump her shoulder. "Princess, it's him." Even when surrounded by fire, his skin was chilled by terror. "The captain's coming."
She felt her own body twitch as her drone's fears passed onto her, but she clenched her teeth and suppressed the emotions. The fact that it was only one monster fighting in the village meant that the lieutenants weren't with him. They were giving her the benefit of the doubt and would support her as long as the night went smoothly. Which meant the pack would have to kill the captain.
"Septarian, the other slaves are still fighting to escape their masters." Halfwing aimed her hoof at the down the street, toward the centre of the village. "Free your kind, and then we can deal with mine."
The smell of blood was so heavy Halfwing felt like she would choke on it. It didn't even drive her predatory appetite anymore, it only sickened her down to her stomach. It also didn't help her anxiety.
Pony language had no way of describing the brutal savagery that was the captain's claws. Only Changelings could understand where such violence could come from, and for Halfwing, it reminded her of the birthing pits. It was the kind of violence that could drive Changelings to kill their own siblings at birth and make one sister mutilate another for the sake of a mother's pride.
The captain was well within earshot now, and Halfwing could see all the ponies, slaves and soldiers, failing to fight for their lives. Corpse by corpse, their herd thinned, leaving the street bare.
The captain's outline became clearer. His tail waved left and right so its strikes were unpredictable. And his mane, though soaked in blood, was still heavy and imposing. Halfwing knew she needed to make the first move or she'd be paralyzed with fear before the trap was sprung.
"You look like you had quite the feast, captain," she shouted at him. "Ever experience this much fun by playing it safe?"
The manticore crouched low and bounded forward, the silhouette growing faster than before. The tail that swayed gently before was now a whip, slashing the air as the captain's entire body shot toward Halfwing like a giant spring.
Halfwing recoiled. He charged from the end of the street, but the pressure of his attacked turned the open area around the fountain into a cage. She felt like there was nowhere to go that he couldn't find her.
A Changeling's scent was too unique to hide in a village ponies. So, even her pack would be helpless to save her. Her drone swooped from above as planned, but no doubt the captain smelled him long before showing up. Regardless, he shifted forms to tackle the captain as a bear.
In a single arc, the captain's tail swooped up and cut her drone out from the air. Despite his extra mass, Halfwing's drone spun out of the way and landed in a pile of corpses. Two more from her pack bounded from the houses behind her in their natural forms, bearing spears from the guards of the rich ponies who had lived there.
Effortlessly the captain swatted them aside with large hooked claws and was upon her in seconds. Halfwing exploded backwards, pulling herself away from the captain's attacks. But when it seemed she had evaded one attack, another swept from her blind spot. She rolled her head under and over the strikes from the left and right.
Eventually, she began to stumble. The manticore's speed and power were beyond anything she could muster, and step after step, Halfwing found her movements slow and falter over the marble brick roads.
"You disobeyed your Queen!" The captain's roar struck as hard as his paw. Halfwing was flying through the air the next moment. It was the closest she had ever been to flying by herself, followed by a sudden jolt from the impact with the ground.
She couldn't tell the sky from the ground, everything was spinning in her head. But it took no time for the captain's tail to lash out and haul her up.
"That injury has held you back, you've never been ready." Halfwing felt her bones shattering as he slammed her into the ground. "I'll drag you back to the hive myself!"
The captain's voice sounded like it was being shouted into Halfwing's ears. Maybe it was, she couldn't tell. Her senses were completely lost. All she could do was hope that the others wouldn't be discouraged by her display of weakness.
It was impossible for any hunter-drone to fight the captain. Halfwing felt that truth first-hoof, listening to the sharp slicing sound as his claws passed through the air. She rolled away and didn't stop, hoping to avoid even one of his strikes. It was useless to outmanoeuvre him, however.
His senses were sharp, and even her entire pack was helpless to ambush him. Their scent was too strong; among ponies, they stuck out like splinters stuck under a hoof.
Halfwing winced as she rolled into a marble wall, somehow wet despite the heat from the fires that the slaves had spread. She wondered how she managed to roll herself back to the fountain.
But Halfwing knew her weaknesses going into this fight. Her drones had every reason to fear their captain, regardless of how much she commanded them. But the air was heavy with pony blood, and all their scents covered the captain's mouth and nose. Indeed, the reason why Changelings were so easy sniffed out in a crowd was because the scent of ponies was like a plain background to a painting.
The smell of pony emotions was as common as air to Changelings, which is why Halfwing knew the captain wouldn't think twice about a few extra scents lingering around to muster their courage.
When the blows to her body stopped, Halfwing knew her final pawns were in place. Her ears were ringing, but she still picked up the occasional ringing of metal as spear tips scratched the marble ground. The slaves she had freed were fighting for her now, a surprise that most certainly took the captain by surprise.
Halfwing struggled to her hooves, leaning on the edge of the fountain of support. Everything was now visible, though extremely blurry. She made out twenty moving figures, surrounding a massive shadow that thrashed at its surroundings in a frenzy.
A smile crawled across Halfwing's face. She could smell Changeling magic in the air, stronger than ever. The captain must have been bleeding heavily now, his blood taking some of his magic with it. Even better, she was able to pick out numerous spears coming out of the manticore, like picks chipping away at solid stone.
If ponies were anything, they were physically strong. Their bodies were made of sinewy, corded muscle, and for every weapon they didn't have naturally, they made metals ones that were even better. Halfwing wanted to watch her mother's pawn crushed by her own, but suddenly the ground gave way and she felt herself slip. Only at the last minute did something catch her, just before her vision blurred away again and she went unconscious.
Halfwing rolled painfully from a pile of pillows. She could feel the bones of her pony form shifting inside. The room she was in was an unusual triangle shape. The ground was made of white polished marble, decorated with a crystal the size of a pea in the centre of each stone tile.
"It's been a week, make a choice!"
Who was outside? The better question was where was the rest of her pack. The last thing she remembered was the slave revolt. She didn't want to acknowledge the reality, but in her current condition, she was useless at defending herself.
But at least some of her senses had returned to her. Halfwing sniffed the air. A number of herbs were around the room, the kind popularly used in pony medicines, oils too, along with a fruity smell that burned into Halfwing's nose.
She refocused on the conversation outside. "We finally get to make our own decisions because of them. Is your first choice going to be committing murder?" Halfwing recognized Septarian's voice, though not the other, angrier one.
"One of those things became a manticore and killed my friends!"
No, we didn't. The memory came back now. The captain, her captain, had carved Marblestop bloody. But why? He could have attacked out of nowhere using surprise as her kind usually did.
"That one was them too," Septarian defended against the other voice. "We don't know how different they are from us. They might be divided, the way we have villages."
"Thousands are dead because of that manticore," she heard the other voice hiss through his teeth. "And while we were busy putting it down, who knows how many of the masters escaped on the docks?"
Those words made Halfwing rise, despite the sharp pain inside her body. She needed the masters, they were going to be her haul to the hive. Losing so much in one day made their magic rich with emotions, and the fresh hope that everything would be fine was the sweetest part.
There wasn't much left in her, but Halfwing knew she reforming into something else would heal at least some injuries. She reached for her magic. It was a natural feeling, but her injuries made it even harder than it should have been. In the end, Halfwing found herself as the pegasus she had practised with back in the nest.
The bones still feel broken. How could I ever hope to grow back a wing?
The effort took more out of her than she realized, and her legs began to tremble. Halfwing leaned, stumbling over her own hooves and collapsing back into her pillow pile.
Both Septarian and the other voice stopped their conversation. "We'll talk about this at the meeting, Sugar Coal. But let me deal with them for now."
Halfwing could hear Septaring coming through the door at the front corner of the room. It was another feat that impressed her: the hive was a messy cave with tunnels that took time to get used to, but for ponies, even in a completely foreign room, the design was made with purpose, and she could read it as easily as a scroll.
She was too weak to bother meeting Septarian with a look as he walked in. He was dressed less like a slave now and more like one of the militia guards, though the leather and linen armour he wore was still a little loose in some places, evidence that it was taken from another stallion rather than made for him.
"Heard something, are you alright?" He grabbed a cloth from a table in the back of the room and knelt beside her. It was wet and cold, pressing against her coat and skin. He looked her over. "You're different again."
Halfwing only managed a weak nod. Did he have to state the obvious?
"Does it hurt, doing it in your condition?" He rose and rushed back to the table, bringing back a tray of funny smelling herbs and tools.
He lifted her right foreleg, and the pain made Halfwing wince. It wasn't just because of her missing wing, she felt him pulling off a bloody bandage from her bottom rib. With a knife, Septarian cut a fresh swath of cloth and spread it on the tray. He scooped a mix of herbal leaves and crushed them in a mortar and pestle, adding just a little bit of the fruity smelling liquid to turn it into a paste. He spread it on the bandage and brought it to her wound.
"I don't know if your kind uses medicine like this," he warned, "but you should know that this is going to hurt before it feels better."
He didn't give her a chance to ask, pressing the bandage against the gash below her rib. The pain was like being torn open again, and even her fatigue didn't stop her from open her mouth to scream. But again Septarian cut a thick swath of cloth, this time shoving it in her mouth.
"Bite on that if you have to," he said. "The doctor who treated my pa always said it helps."
He used the rest of the cloth to wrap the wound tightly, sticking it shut with a paste that smelled like tree sap.
"Sorry we couldn't do anything about the bones," Septarian said as he returned the medical tray to its table, "but the other Changelings said not to worry about it."
Halfwing instinctively tried to get up when he mentioned the others. They may have only been drones, but they were still part of her pack, and she was responsible for them.
"Don't move like that!" Septarian rushed over to her so quickly she thought he was going to run her over. "The resin is still sticky, you need to give the bandage at least an hour before you move."
Halfwing spat out the cloth. "How is my pack?"
Septarian raised a brow. "A pack? What, like a satchel of some kind?"
"No," Halfwing grunted. "The other Changelings, we travel in packs."
"Oh, right," Septarian said, but he was hesitant to continue.
"You don't have any right to withhold-"
Septarian raised a hoof to cut off Halfwing. Any drone would never have had the gall to do something like that, but yet again the free will of every pony bent her expectations.
He sighed and lowered his head. "I don't know how to tell you this so I'll just say it: we found two dead in their original bodies, and one's badly wounded in his pony form, like you."
Two dead was a heavy blow. Minus the captain and lieutenants, there were eleven young hunter-drones in the pack. One of which had literally been by her side the whole time, carrying her weight whenever she needed him to. Halfwing replayed the fight with the captain in her mind.
Her drone, her Carrier, was swatted out of the air like a fly. But he was a bear when it happened. If the ponies had found him as an injured drone, that meant he at least had enough strength to transform, a lot more strength than Halfwing had herself.
There was no helping it. The dead couldn't be brought back, and if she didn't want add to her pack's losses, she needed to let her wounds heal.
"Didn't think a slave would know how to be a doctor," she said to Septarian.
"Thanks, but, I'm not really one," he replied, wiping his hooves clean of blood. "My pa was a unicorn, so when we fell into debt he was sold as a fighter. He got to stab and get stabbed for other ponies' amusement, and all I could do was replace his bandages until he died."
Halfwing smirked. "Saw you carrying around a spear during the revolt. Are you sure bandaging was all you learned?"
He did nothing but shrug. "Get some rest, Lady Changeling. That's a story that needs to be told when you're feeling better." He seemed confident in his work and bid farewell, leaving through the same door he entered.
Lady Changeling? True, she was the only one out of her pack who took any female disguises, but the name still felt weird. Drones were asexual, the Queen being the sole being in the hive capable of the "female" duties that ponies had. As a result, the hive's culture had no use for the different titles ponies gave to mares and stallions.
"Lady Changeling." Halfwing formed the words in her mouth. Her mouth. She had to laugh at herself. Despite trying to feel superior to ponies and above their petty titles, she still defined herself as every bit a lady as a mare would. It was a good replacement; letting the ponies know her true name would show her weakness, and bring her every bit closer to losing their respect and fear. Lady Changeling, that title suited her just fine.
Halfwing waved away another pony asking for his project to be funded. The theatre district, one of the largest symbols of the old masters' refined culture and wealth, was the most unpopular parts of the village. Hundreds of ponies were hesitant on rebuilding it, and she wasn't going to go against their wishes just for a slave who worked on the theatre's special effects.
She sat back in her chair. The office that belonged to Tiger Iron had been torn down, replaced with a building of marble and caementine that was decorated with blue and gold paints inside. Halfwing wondered why the slaves would elect to give her this place. She was fine with having just the mine, its small tunnels had the comfort of a hive. But to the ponies, the thought of their idol living in a mine was inexcusable.
Beside her, Carrier, her new captain, stood proudly. His body had healed stronger than ever surviving against the old captain. The rest of her pack stood guard on perches in the ceiling, their eyes spotting every detail of the room. After the death of the captain, some remaining lieutenants filled the ranks of her pack. Nine stood vigilant as Halfwing received more new. With Carrier by her side, ten fully fed Changelings made Halfwing feel like the strongest creature in Equestria.
From the back entrance, one only her pack was allowed to use, another lieutenant came. They traded quick whispers, and her captain nodded.
"The gemstone the ponies were working on is ready for its first test," he said. "They want you in the village to see it."
Halfwing smirked. "No doubt Septarian wants an excuse to gain more favour. As if I haven't helped his ponies enough."
"I might be for the best," Carrier replied. "He's in charge of the new militia, even if that is just an informal position for now."
Halfwing rolled her eyes. "It's another barrier stone. Effective, but it's not something that will stop my sisters when they arrive."
"If they arrive," Carrier tried encouraging her. "It's winter, your highness. When we came it was still warm enough to call it summer, yet none the others has come since then."
"I know them, Carrier. They will." Her hunter-drone was not yet as wise as a true captain. He lacked their experience and her innate intelligence. Halfwing could feel her sisters barring down on her, no matter how far away they might be.
Tenacity and Spectra, they tormented her endlessly since youth, taking away her prey when they were just hatchlings, knowing she couldn't fly higher to hunt the lizards that crawled up the cavern walls. And Majesta, who felt too mighty to give Halfwing anything more than a glance, she would never hesitate to pull an annoying thorn from her side.
A heavy knock on the front door was followed hurriedly by a breathless pony. The stallion stormed in front of Halfwing so quickly, Carrier's horn glowed reflexively to guard against the threat. But he calmed when the pony threw himself on the marble tiles and prostrated before Halfwing.
He kept his head pressed to the ground even as he spoke. "Lady Changeling, one of your Changelings found an empty trap across the river. He sent me to warn you about a threat."
It was no coincidence her sisters would show up at this time. She spent every day since the revolt wondering when she'd be able to test her mettle against them.
She realized she was smiling so wide at the pony that it made him disconcerted, but she didn't care. "Tell Septarian to finish up his toy and get the scouts ready."
"Princess," Carrier advised again, "before you do anything, consider what he has to offer. He's not one to make false promises, even if a little exaggerated. A perfected barrier stone could be useful to whatever you plan to do."
Halfwing sat silent for a moment. Everything the ponies could do far exceeded everything she had seen in the hive, but she still believed ponies had a long way to go to match Changeling magic. Regardless, their knowledge of trapping magical energy into crystals and gemstones was not something to be ignored.
If what Septarian had been saying about this crystal was true, it would be the perfect thing to trap her sisters when as soon as they decided to enter her village.
Halfwing nodded to her captain. It wouldn't hurt to take a look. No doubt her sisters would wait a few days anyway to survey Marblestop before they moved in themselves. That only gave a few days to prepare.
"What in world is this thing?" Zorne slammed his hoof against the barrier that had been brought up against his pack. He fired blasts of magic as well, but it was pointless.
He cursed himself for listening to Princess Spectra and staying with their prisoners. What use were ponies if the princess was stuck inside a barrier of magic?
"It took me an hour to fly here, you must have some something out by now," he said to his lieutenants. In total there were seven of them, all nearly as old and experienced as he was, but they all shook their heads.
"We sent a group of ten to burrow under as moles," said one lieutenant, "but the barrier stretches down as far as they can dig.
"All the way up too," added another. "We've been flying around as all manner of birds, but the barrier closes at the top like a dome."
"And the straightforward approach is useless too." Zorne didn't need to be told how worthless they were, he could hear the sound of bison and oxen ramming against the repelling barrier. The magic was too strong for any single pony to be casting it, but there was no other source of magic that could produce a barrier to such effect.
Right through the clear barrier, he could see the walls of the village centre. Shops and temples, scaffolds to repair what Princess Halfwing had meticulously destroyed months ago, they were all within sight, just down the road. But he might as well try to break through a steel cage.
He sniffed it. The smell, or lack thereof, was the strangest thing. Even in the form a spell, a unicorn's magic still had their emotions mixed into it. But this barrier didn't smell like anything, as if the only thing powering the magic shield was a pure, unemotional form of magic.
Zorne slammed his hoof into it again. It felt as unliving as a rock. For the first time in a long time, he didn't know what to do. What could anything do against a spell made from pure energy?
Spectra kept her mouth silent and her mind running. They were underground, moving through a narrow caementine tunnel that forced the ponies to march in a single file. Behind her was her captain, and in front was a dozen armed ponies. She imagined the rear of the line was no different.
They kept itchy cotton bags over their heads, but it was all pointless. It was clear Halfwing hadn't explained to her ponies the extent to what their senses could do.
A sound like breaking glass galloped its echo down the tunnel. Without warning, the ponies all hurried through. Spectra listened closely to their quickened pace and felt the rough pushing from the ponies at the back of the line. Once they moved a little further down, Spectra heard the noise again, but slower this time, like the sound of water freezing between cracks in stone.
"Was that magic?" Her captain's voice rung in her ears. His voice was so low Spectra could barely hear him, which she imagined was the point since none of the ponies' primitive ears could pick up on the low reverberation.
She concentrated her magic into her throat, carefully changing only the organ that produced sound, expanding it until it could speak as low as her captain.
"I didn't smell anything." She said quietly. Though she knew the ponies were incapable of hearing her, she instinctively guarded her words with whispers.
"Neither did I, but I've heard unicorns cast spells that make that sound," her captain replied. "I've only heard it with barrier spells."
"A barrier around the entire village square?" Spectra couldn't imagine how any pony could have enough power to maintain a spell of that size, but it did explain why Zorne's drones didn't rush to her aid immediately. They were observing from too far away, and the spell must have blocked them off.
"It's all I can guess for now," he answered. "Sounds impossible, and I bet not even Zorne has seen a spell like this before."
That sounded even more impossible than a massive barrier around the village centre. Zorne was one of the oldest hunter-drones, and likely the most respected captain in the hive. Even if it took a little longer, Spectra was sure he knew of a way to get through.
Through. If they were blocked off inside the barrier, then why did it sound like it was breaking open?
"Where do you think we're being moved if we had to pass through the barrier spell?"
Her drone was silent for a moment but replied as if the realization dawned on him as well. "We're being moved outside, away from the centre, and probably the village as well."
"In a tunnel where not even Zorne knows to find," Spectra finished. "Do you think the drones still think we're in there?"
"It's too far down to track us by scent," her captain said. "But by now they've already sent messengers to tell Zorne we've been split up. But we can't whether or not he'll figure out where we are."
Spectra didn't appreciate her captain's cynicism. But, hoping for a rescue was not how she was going to become a queen. The ponies were taking a risk by leaving their barrier. There was no doubt Halfwing wanted to see her, even if it was just to kill her herself.
A confrontation, that's what she expected this to end with. Spectra expected it to happen no matter what happened. She had bargained for this, going to war with Halfwing. Now it was a matter of changing with the situation.
The march was nowhere as gruelling as travelling from the hive. Spectra guessed they had been marching for no more than an hour before they finally stopped. She could feel the fresh air flowing from above them, presenting the smell of prickling pine.
They were finally pushed up a slope to the surface, somewhere at the edge of the village. It's wasn't yet in the thick woods. The air blew pine from one side, but smoke and the smell of marble came from the other. The ponies had bound all their wings, but that couldn't stop her from transforming into a hawk and taking off through the sky.
She gathered her magic, feeling her body tense up as her inner organs were broken down to mould into that of a bird's. But a jolt shook the spell away and her body snapped back into its original shape. She tried again but felt the jolt again as the ponies in front dragged her along.
"We're not gonna let your pack catch your scent," one of the stallions said. "I'll kick you along if I have to."
Just to reiterate his point, the voice who made the threat stepped behind Spectra and struck her back, sending her forward into the dirt. Another pony was quick to grab her by the back of her neck and pull her up.
"You idiot, we're trying not to leave any tracks." Spectra heard scuffling around her in the dirt. Multiple hooves moved to scrub at where she had fallen. "Hopefully they won't notice we were here. Now let's go." Spectra stumbled forward again from another push.
"I was trying to make'em go faster," said the pony who had kicked her.
The other quickly brushed him aside. "Be quiet, Sugar Coal. Bad enough you have a mouth big enough for stones. Just remember, I don't want to get in trouble with the Lady and neither do you."
They marched uphill further into the forest, and Spectra could smell the stronger scents of holly branches and bilberries. There was running water near as well, the higher up they went.
The other pony may have stopped Sugar Coal's brazen aggression, but they were as rough as ever pushing them up their path. Spectra could ignore the loss of balance whenever they were pushed, but the abrupt movements with each push undid all her attempts to transform. They shook her insides each time, half suspended in magic and an emulsion of undirected flesh, until she was forced to bring it back to her pony form.
The cycle repeated itself an hour until a hoof pressed Spectra's back and forced her face to the ground. She would have returned gesture with a blast of magic had she not smelled oiled bronze spear tips hoving not too far from her neck.
Spectra recognized the smell of iron ore and cut marble bricks. To her right, the unmistakable sound of stallions drudging up ore from the earth could be heard. Her senses were so focused that when the bag was lifted from her head, the light blinded her even more than the darkness.
It took a few seconds to find her bearings by sight. The water she had smelled was no natural stream. A massive aqueduct made from caementine spilt water into troughs for miners as they returned from, or left for, the mine. Tables smelling of the same wood as the forest's trees were laid out around the mine, filled with plates of barley and cups of cider. Tents were out as well, from simple tarps held up by wood poles to elaborate fixtures that almost looked sturdy enough to be permanent.
In the middle of all the tents stood what almost looked like a temple. It had a wide rectangular base that supported strong walls of marble and caementine. As it climbed higher, the sections grew narrower, becoming rectangular columns of stone that reached many times over the ponies' heads.
And in front of Spectra stared the eyes of a Changeling. The black chitinous carapace looked strong and healthy. It was rich in colour, and more importantly, was shaped into overlapping armour plates. Her frame was slightly taller and more slender than the Changelings that stood farther back, but she wasn't so distinct that a passing glance wouldn't have been able to tell the difference.
It was her smell that triggered the first memory. That scent was in every hidden crack and corner of the cave. It was a scent that she had associated with weakness for so long. It reminded Spectra of her early months in the hive, and slowly, she cast her gaze on the Changeling's side, where a torn wing was shamelessly displayed.
"Not the family reunion either of us imagined," said Halfwing, looking down at her sister being pinned by spears. Spectra glared at the ponies around her.
They all had the same scars around their hooves, soldiers and miners alike. Her sister had turned Marblestop into a village of slaves by feeding only on the magic of the rich and powerful. Now Spectra understood why the refugees were able to integrate with Riverfork so well. Among them were no poor labourers, only trained masters and flourishing apprentices, or merchants with powerful connections.
Spectra rose slowly, presenting no threat to make the spears at her neck go any deeper. It was pointless to transform even though there was enough time to focus her magic now. If she ran, Halfwing's hunter-drones would pluck her from the sky. and probably eliminate her pack just for extra security.
Besides, she wasn't going to bow to a cripple. "I didn't you'd even survive the march from the hive." She pointed to Halfwing's broken side. "Hunter-drones carry you all the way?"
Halfwing leered at her. "You and Tenacity have never given me respect. But I've had to work harder every step of the way because of that, so don't think spitting insults can hurt me any more than you already have."
"Didn't tear off your wing," Spectra reminded her.
Halfwing shrugged. "Out of the four of us, you two were closest. So I hope you'll understand my reservations." She gave a signal with her hoof to the spear-holders and they grabbed Spectra roughly by the neck and bound her legs together with a thick cord of rope.
The rest of her pack bristled and hissed from seeing their princess so rudely submitted, but a herd of spear points bore down on them as well, the eyes of the ponies almost daring them to give threat.
Spectra struggled against the bindings, testing their strength. No doubt the pony who tied her up was once a slave to the dockmasters. She had seen how ponies moored their boats to the docks, twisting ropes into intricate knots no storm could ever hope to undo. This one was so tight there was no room to even twist her hooves around.
"Put them as deep as the mine goes," she ordered the ponies. "They should feel right at home down in the dark."
The soldiers grunted and began pushing the Spectra and her hunter-drones over to the mine's entrance. Even with Halfwing's pack in the camp, the soldiers were just as cautious. Speartip overlapped speartip, each soldier not daring to give the Changelings room to even twitch.
Spectra wanted to call out, give a final taunt to her sister before she went under, tell her that Tenacity and Majesta were hunting for her with even more drones. But what would that do? Alert her to the rest of the army, most likely. Silence was the better option, and she imagined there'd be plenty of it inside the mines.
Zorne puzzled at the barrier from the roof of a bakery.
Save for the rear guard which he sent back to watch their prisoners, he and his pack had the barrier completely surrounded, above ground and in their underground waterways. They could besiege the village, waiting out the ponies inside, but there was no telling how long that'd take, or what would happen to the princess during that time.
"Tell the drones to stop their ramming," he ordered one of his lieutenants. "We're doing more damage to the ground that we are to that spell."
The lieutenant nodded and chattered a command to all the Changelings on the surface. Immediately they stopped their assault and pulled back shops surrounding the village square.
Zorne stared at the caementine road that lead out of the centre. The material was strong and heavy, but also brittle. The force of the pack ramming into the barrier was deflected all into the ground. He buzzed his wings and flew down to the other side of the barrier.
"What is it, captain?" His lieutenants followed instinctively and without question.
"Look at the ground where we've been attacking." He pointed a hoof at the cracked caementine that reached a quarter of the way around the village centre.
He then gestured to the unassailed side of the barrier, where the caementine was untouched. "This barrier is as solid as any metal. But even though it reaches deep into the ground, the ground is fine."
One lieutenant poked the barrier. "It's magic, sir, I'm sure it doesn't have to act as material things do."
Zorne shot a bolt of green energy at the ground below him, scorching the surface and chipping off a chunk of the caementine.
"Even magic has to obey nature's logic," he said. Zorne scooped the chunk of caementine off the ground and balanced it on his hoof. He pressed it against the barrier, but the rock passed through it as if it was air, falling away from his hoof on the other side of the barrier.
"An hour attacking this barrier and we didn't even think to try alternatives," Zorne growled, equally frustrated at himself and his pack.
His lieutenants simply looked at each other. "We never imagined ponies could create spell this complex. A selective barrier, that kind of magic is even beyond us."
Zorne nodded, though he was seething. "It's obvious they knew who'd come knocking on their door. Order the pack to fall back to the nest for now."
"Sir," protested one lieutenant. "We could build siege engines to hurl bricks into the village centre. We'd need construction materials to do so."
"Wood is plentiful in the forest," added another lieutenant. "If we retreat, do we have permission to begin harvesting lumber for the catapults?"
Zorne thought for a moment. He had planned to return to the nest and coerce one of their prey to sabotage the barrier from within, but that plan had many risks. Having a second plan would be wiser. He nodded to his lieutenants, agreeing with their choice.
Zorne shifted to a hawk and left his lieutenants to signal the retreat. Wind on his wings, he again surveyed the destruction Princess Halfwing managed to bring down onto the village. Many places were still destroyed, but over the past few months reconstruction had obviously been conducted.
They were growing again, and stronger this time. Zorne still remembered what it was like to be a young hunter-drone, bullied and submissive to the older captains. But the hive's strength was a matter of evolution, removing the drones that got too comfortable with having power.
Year after year as a hunter-drone Zorne remembered the beatings, starvation, and humiliation from older drones. Slaves. It had taken a long time for him to wrap his head around the difference between the multitude of pony drones, their farmers and their servants and their apprentices seemed all the same when he was young. But the most obvious of all was that slaves had it worse.
They were beaten definitely humiliated. Sometimes starved too, but only on occasion, as well-fed workers were often the most productive. And now that they had their lives back, they were growing up stronger than ever, just like any hunter-drone captain.
He had never seen magic like their barrier. Its rules seemed clear enough; only Changelings were denied. But what was the source, and how did it know if an animal was real, or just a Changeling?
He doubted he'd find the answer, but the nest neared below him and all he needed was a solution. If Changelings weren't allowed through, then their only agents would have to be ponies. He changed back to his regular form and hovered up to the highest nest-rooms.
"Captain." The guard watching over the prisoners' nest-rooms bowed his head to Zorne.
He gestured with his head to the forest around them. "We're pulling back from the village for now. Go grab whatever you can from the traps, the pack wasted far too much magic at this point."
"Yes, sir." Without hesitation, the hunter-drone hopped off his perch and flew down and made for the traps.
Zorne landed on the edge of the nest-room. It was small. Unlike Princess Tenacity, Princess Spectra had brought only one prisoner. The other was too unfit for the march.
There were broken twigs and scorch marks, signs that the hunter-drones had some trouble restraining the prey while he was away. His hooves clanked against a couple wooden bowls, stolen from the edges of Marblestop by some scouts. Water was left in one, while the other had a mix of nuts and roots.
The prisoner, Lunti, was curled on the other side of the nest. In two strides Zorne crossed over to her, but the pony was asleep. Bruises on her neck and legs were indicative of the drones' rough handling when she tried to escape. Still, Zorne could help but notice her cleverness. It was unlikely that she coincidentally decided to try to escape only after he had been called to the village. Most likely she noticed the respect the hunter-drones gave him and decided the highest chance she had of escaping was when the leader was away.
"Wake up, prey." He nudged her with his hoof. Under normal circumstances, Zorne would have been patient. He spent decades living and hunting among ponies and knew well the limits of their bodies. But every moment he wasted was a moment he was failing the princess the Queen had ordered him to accompany.
He shook Lunti harder, and naturally, the pony was spooked awake. She rubbed her eyes until her vision focused on Zorne in his natural form. The sight clearly frightened her, he could smell it, but she breathed steadily and waited for him to say something.
"Right now your life is at risk," he said bluntly. "You've been afforded luxuries because of Princess Spectra. Most prey do not ever see the sun again once they enter the hive. Worse still, they are fed on dozens of times a day."
Sharpened by years of experience, Zorne could hear her muscles tense and smell adrenaline pumping through her blood. If she was like most prey he had seen in his lifetime, she was likely beginning to wonder if she could end her life with a sharpened twig.
"But will only happen to you if you cannot help the Princess," Zorne said. Lunti stared at him, her expression suddenly taken aback.
"I don't understand," she finally replied.
Zorne growled. Dumber prey would have simply accepted the chance to save themselves.
"Bring down a magic barrier," he gestured with hooves, trying to draw the image in the air. "A spell surrounds the village centre, one that forbids only Changelings from entering. Go inside and stop whatever is casting the spell."
Lunti furrowed her brow.
That was a sign that Zorne did not like. "What is it?"
Lunti looked down, reluctant to answer. Zorne crackled his horn by pooling his magic too suddenly for a spell to take form. Lunti scrambled against the wall of the nest and shielded herself with her hooves.
"You said whatever," she answered meekly. "If it's not a unicorn, then where's the spell coming from?"
"I don't know," he answered with irritation. "If I did I might not be giving you this chance. So do not test me."
Lunti paused again, lowering her legs and looking at Zorne. "Why are you giving me this chance. You mentioned Spectra, she's the one who disguised herself as Marina, right?"
Zorne stayed silent. In truth, he didn't care about the Princess's first hunt and knew no details. Yet Lunti continued to pry.
"Something must have happened to her, that's why you're threatening me now."
After a moment, Zorne answered. "Yes. But none of that matters to you. Do what I say, because if you make me fail my duties by refusing to help, you live a life with no rest from suffering."
Lunti bit back her clever tone. Zorne's voice was low, rough, and aggressive, but there was no exaggeration in it. His threats were as real as his ability to carry them out, and even Lunti could feel the powerful magic he had stored in himself.
"I guess I don't have many choices left in my life," Lunti lamented. She picked herself off the floor of the nest and brushed off dozens of twigs stuck to her hide. "But promise me this: I'll at least get a proper bed as a reward."
Tenacity had to climb up a tree just to see over her bigger sister. They were crouched behind flourishing bushes, and the only gap between the thick flowers was blocked by Majesta's head.
Cold air slipped past their hard chitin, carrying the scent of the mining camp towards them. Ponies, dirt, iron, and Changelings, they smelled it all. They were lucky that the winter winds that blew through the mountains put them downwind so that Halfwing could not smell them as well.
"How'd you get so fat with only one pony to feed on?" Tenacity asked while they watched the camp return to its normal routine.
"It's not fatness that makes me bigger." Majesta snapped back, annoyed. "Our proportions are the same, you're simply a runt."
Tenacity pouted and poked Majesta in the back, feeling her carapace. "Nope, squishy means you're fat."
"I can see a dozen ponies at the wall." She focused on the mining camp ahead of them. Their packs had taken positions around it. Combined, they had ninety-eight hunter-drones. Four were captains, with seventeen lieutenants. The rest were hungry drones waiting to strike the camp.
"Two dozen," corrected Tenacity. "They're changing shifts right now, I can see another twelve coming up to the wall now."
The two princesses heard reports from their captains. The messages came as high-pitched clicks that were inaudible to the ponies, and too short range for Halfwing to hear it from within the mining camp.
"A dozen by the aqueduct," said one captain.
Another added quickly. "Thirty moving in and out of the mine."
"We see ten standing by the barrels of crystals, with another twenty ponies packaging them."
The last report caught Majesta's ear. She recalled her time among ponies, pretending to be a student at a school for magicians. To make up for their weaknesses ponies devised many clever ways of strengthening their magic, and many of those ways included storing power in crystals.
"We have the element of surprise," Tenacity said, pointing to the large caementine structure inside the camp. "That thing there, that's where Halfwing went."
"We outnumber them, we should attack."
Tenacity didn't hear her sister offer a suggestion. "If we strike that building, we might kill Halfwing before her ponies can react."
"I know."
"The hunter-drones can cover our escape with volleys of magic," Tenacity continued again. "You might think it's risky, but we can't be too hesitant."
Majesta grabbed Tenacity by the hoof and dragged her down from the tree. "I said I know, sister." She let go. "We may have our differences, but I know there are times your bloodlust can be useful."
"Wait, I didn't think you'd actually agree." Tenacity peered back through the bushes, considering the camp's defences with more severity now.
"We're you watching when they took Spectra?" Majesta growled. "Halfwing put herself above the hive. If ponies can be taught to imprison Changelings, it won't be long until they realize they don't need her. And after that..."
"Us," Tenacity finished, agreeing with Majesta's assessment. "Ponies and Changelings don't belong together."
Majesta nodded. "Spectra was there, she had the chance to kill Halfwing, but she chose to let their spearpoints threaten her. Worse, her pack followed."
That was right. Tenacity didn't realize it, they had only just caught up with Spectra's scent when the ponies were taking them into the mines, but the drones didn't seem to fight back. Not a single hunter-drone would hesitate to give their life for their princess. They were made to be expendable like that. But instead, Spectra taught her pack to fall in line.
"Do you think Spectra has some kind of plan?" Tenacity was cautious to call her closest sister a weakling. They had bonded over tormenting Halfwing together. It somehow seemed fitting that Halfwing would drive them apart.
Majesta shrugged. "Maybe, but I don't see the point."
"In any case, we should remember to free her once Halfwing's dead," Tenacity said. "I don't think Zorne would be happy if he found out he failed to protect her."
A high pitch trill left Majesta's mouth, a signal to their hunter-drones to prepare for a fight.
"I never found the need to torent our sister, so I'll leave Halfwing to you." She directed Tenacity's gaze with her hoof to the barrels of crystals. "I think I can scatter most of the ponies, as long as the crystals do what I think they do."
Unlike the vast caverns of the hive, the mine was narrow and cramped, its ceilings too low to comfortably stand. If these were the work conditions of the slaves who worked the mines, Spectra didn't blame them for rallying around Halfwing so eagerly.
From the back of her own prison, she tried calling out to her pack but it seemed her sister had taken another precaution. The doors of each cell weren't just made of metal, but thick curtains made from sheep's wool as well. The thick barrier muffled sounds coming in and out, no matter how high or low Spectra pitched her voice.
Spectra twisted her head around, tearing up the bag around her head. The ponies didn't even have the decency to remove it after locking her up. She had to lie low in the cell, its ceiling scraped against her horn when she tried to stand up normally.
Have your fun, sister. Spectra knew she would deal with her sister soon enough.
From inside the mine, her pack had the advantage against Halfwing's pony army. The narrow spaces nullified their larger numbers, while their ability to transform into smaller animals increased their mobility in places ponies would find difficult to move in.
She flexed her magic, burning off excess matter until she was the size and shape of one of the jungle rodents that lived near the hive. They were large compared to the rats and beavers that lived along the river, but still small enough to scurry through the tunnels of the mine. Then she heard her sister's voice, muffled through the door.
"I can sense more out there, Septarian," she spoke. "I have a feeling this is going to be a full family reunion."
"Don't worry, we have blasting crystals prepared, Lady Changeling," he replied.
Halfwing paused for a moment. "You know you don't have to call me that."
"I know, love, but it feels weird when we're not alone."
Spectra recoiled from the scent flooding the mine, so forceful it shocked her back to her original form and she covered her nose. It was more than Septarian's emotional magic; Halfwing's magic expressed a wide range of scents Spectra had never encountered before.
But it quickly faded. "Watch them while I talk to my sister, and call at the first sign of trouble."
"Of course." Spectra listened as his hoof steps echoed away.
The curtains parted as the iron door opened with Halfwing walking in behind it. She moved casually, shutting it again and leaning comfortably against the wall opposite Spectra, who could smell the difference in magic between them. She had definitely made use of the village, feeding and growing her magic to a point that shouldn't have been possible for a few more years.
"It had to be you, didn't it?" Halfwing sighed, as if with regret. "Tenacity would have been better. Her I can kill without question."
Spectra didn't wait for her sister's hesitation to wear off. She flared her horn and cast a bolt of magic across the cell.
Halfwing lowered her head, producing a barrier from her horn. Spectra rushed forward, shifting into the body of a guard hound, the kind that the farmers of Riverfork used to ward off wild predators. Halfwing moved aside, collapsing to the ground as her legs melted away and her body stretched into a massive serpent.
In a single motion, the serpent circled the hound, compressing Spectra's lungs and threatening to splinter her bones. Halfwing's magic, however, smelled unmistakably passive, and before she was crushed in half, Halfwing released her death grip and retreated to the opposite end of the cell. She withdrew the snake's tale and brought back her legs, returning to her Changeling form.
Spectra eyed her warily. "Don't tell me you've developed some kind of sisterly love during our time apart."
"Oh no, not love," Halfwing chuckled spitefully. "I just want you to tell me something."
She paused, looking down at her hooves as if finding the perfect way to word her question. The silence irritated Spectra. Halfwing had all the power she needed and freedom to use it, yet she was too weak-willed to use it. Spectra wondered if travelling this far to end her useless sister was a waste of time. But, as was the case of late, Halfwing cut through her expectations with a single word.
"Why?"
Spectra waited for more but that was it. It took her a second to notice that Halfwing was flapping the stump of her broken wing.
"That has nothing to do with me," she said.
"Then you've forgotten how we were born?" Halfwing spoke through gritted teeth.
In her mind, images of her memory flashed. They were born into a pit, suffocating from the moment they left their eggs. Then, they didn't know how to kill. They didn't even know what killing meant. The only thing Spectra and her sisters knew how to do was survive.
"Never," she replied grimly.
Halfwing gazed down into Spectra's eyes, her nostrils flaring as she let out a strained breath. "So tell me why you chose me, and not Tenacity."
"What do you mean?" Spectra asked.
"I remember scrambling over her to get more air," Halfwing explained. "We fought, the both of us just trying to live until you threw yourself onto my back. That's when she got the chance to sink her fangs into it. Since then I've assumed the two of you were born simply to make my life miserable."
"You were closer," Spectra answered. She didn't remember it as vividly as Halfwing, but their first fight was still kept away in her mind like a scroll tucked away in a library. "I think I would have killed Tenacity if she was on top."
"So it was just bad luck?" Halfwing's horn bristled, a spark of magic shooting up and lighting the cell for a moment. "And after? Mother had already branded me with my name but you still had to side with the runt!"
Spectra slammed her hoof on the ground. "Fixing your life was not my job."
"Neither was making it worse."
The tension between them was palpable. Neither doubted that the other was using their sense of smell to read the other's emotions. In the middle of it all, Spectra wished she had learned how to conceal her emotions from Seris. They were both still young Changelings and their emotions flooded their ichor.
There was a mixture of pain and anger inside Halfwing's magic. Loneliness, rejection, and self-loathing, all of it pained her, making her magic smell like burnt flesh. It was accompanied by a bitter anger. It ebbed and flowed in waves, the scent fading and strengthening in a constant rhythm, a sign that not all the anger was present. Much of it would be for Tenacity, she assumed.
By contrast, Spectra smelled so bland. Rational patience bore little in terms of smell, and the lack of emotion only angered frustrated Halfwing more. It seemed to her that Spectra felt nothing about the life she had ruined.
"Why keep fighting? Why come all this way just to torment me more?"
"Did you really think I'd let you run away with so much power?" Spectra waved her hooves around. "You've so much to feed on, why wouldn't I come?"
"And the others?" Halfwing asked. "Majesta and Tenacity, I can smell them out there. But what do you think Majesta will do with me out of the picture?"
"Probably grow stronger," Spectra answered honestly. "But she'll be a problem for the future."
"And you would allow that?" Halfwing gestured a hoof at Spectra. "Look around, you and I both know what Majesta could do with what I have."
Spectra chortled. "You're scared that you'll lose to us."
Those words struck Halfwing and she lowered her head. "I promised myself," she whispered, "to enjoy the moment I become Queen. I want to make mother feel every shred of pain she's given me, and none of you will stop me."
Spectra looked down at the bag that had been over her head. If Halfwing wanted her dead, this would not be the first opportunity. Despite all her power, Spectra realized, her sister was still crippled on the inside. She was angry, that was all.
It was laughable. Spectra thought that at the very least her sister would still have the fortitude of a Changeling princess. But she let her emotions get the better of her and sought the comfort of ponies instead of a hive. Halfwing wasn't meant to be a princess. She would never be Queen, no matter what.
Still, that didn't change the fact that she had the power to kill.
"Leave me," Spectra said. "No doubt Majesta would like to take us both out if she could. Keeping me alive might be the perfect bait."
A wave of relief washed over Halfwing's aura, though her face displayed suspicion. "I hadn't thought of that. Why tell me this?"
Spectra shrugged. "I get to live, and in the process, Majesta walks into a trap. You could say that's as much weight off my shoulders as killing you."
It was a stupid plan. Halfwing huffed and sat on the idea. She didn't believe her sister would offer anything to help, then again, the plan did solve a mutual problem: Majesta. If she was was lucky, Halfwing wondered if Tenacity would allow herself to get trapped too. She ended up shaking that thought from her head. Luck had never been on her side. Her success would be on her own will to live, and nothing else.
Sounds from outside the mine echoed down on them. The sound could be heard even through the muffled cell door.
Boom. Crack. Shouts ran down the length of the mine.
"Lady Changeling!" Shouted one voice. His friend next to him banged on the cell door. "The other Changelings are outside, Septarian's injured!"
Magic gathered in the air. Spectra crawled away from Halfwing when she felt her chitin blistering. The air had become superheated from the arcs of crackling green pouring out of Halfwing's horn.
She flung open the door and slammed it shut. "Watch this cell. If any other Changelings come in here, run and find me."
Halfwing ran for the mine's entrance. She passed the numerous branches that led to the other cells, small caverns crammed with form slave masters, and now a few Changelings. The other ponies, miners and crystal detonators, they came flooding out of the mine as well. Some were eager to take up arms again and fight like they had for their freedom. Others simply didn't want to be trapped if the explosions outside collapsed the entrance. It was a reasonable fear. Outside, Halfwing could hear the sounds of war.
Lunti's breathing was shakier than she thought it would be. She looked around as Zorne escorted her through the streets of Marblestop. For months she had listened to the stories. As a council member, her father personally dealt with the problems of many of Marblestop's refugees. But seeing the destruction was another thing.
Walls were completely torn out, and the white caementine streets were still stained red in certain cracks. Ashes piled up in other homes, where bodies of the dead must have been burned, even though Lunti hoped what she was looking at were just splinters of wood and not bone fragments.
What remained intact of the village was being brought down. She slowed her pace as she watched dozens of Changelings working in perfect harmony carry wood to build siege weapons. They seemed to hate carrying things by flight, so instead, they rolled logs along the wide streets.
"Now you know what we'll do to their village if you can't bring that barrier down," Zorne said firmly. "We'll tear the village to the ground to find Princess Spectra."
It bothered her that she was used to hearing those words now. Princess Spectra. The pony she had known for months was gone, replaced by a monster who just wanted to eat her. She had learned enough about their swarm just by watching from her nest, often while she wondered if she could jump and hit the ground before they caught her.
There were a couple others like Spectra, leaders whose words moved the others without hesitation. Lunti breathed deeply to steady herself, but she flinched everytime a Changeling smashed a wall into cracked bricks, ammunition for their catapults. She jumped at a dull pain at her side.
Zorne's chitin jabbed her roughly in the ribs. "Pay attention. Can you do this?"
Lunti rubbed the pain away. "What do you mean?"
"You're distracted," he told her. "You're useless if you lose focus."
Lunti shook her head. "It's not like I see these things every day. I'll be fine once we get there."
"You are lying. I can smell your fear."
Lunti scrunched her face. "That's exactly what I mean. "Smelling fear" isn't something ponies hear very often." Despite how right he was, Lunti felt comfortable talking. Growing up with the elite of Riverfork had at least taught her how to be convincing.
"Besides," she added, "how do I know you're not lying? You could be trying to scare me even more. Seems like something you'd do."
"Adrenaline is flooding your system right now," he answered. Zorne gestured to the empty flood channels in the street, ones that would move water out of the village. "To my nose, it's as easy to smell as a steaming plate of vegetables."
"You can't be serious," Lunti said. The barrier's magical thrumming began to encroach as they neared it.
"I won't bother describing how your body is interrupting the magic flowing through it," Zorne smirked. "Just remember, I might frighten you, but I don't need to lie to do it."
Lunti simply stared straight ahead. "Well with that weight on my shoulders, I don't think I can fail this."
Zorne grunted but seemed to accept her answer. "We will see."
They came onto the village square from the main marketplace by the river. The road that brought goods from the harbour to the rest of the village was now torn up and cracked. Lunti recognized the heavy hoofmarks of other animals, oxen and rams, along with some others she didn't recognize. The wide caementine path bore the weight of a good dozen half-built catapults, with piles of stone rubble ready to be launched through the ponies' selective barrier.
"Why not just make a solid magic wall?" Lunti wondered out loud.
Zorne pushed her forward. "Maybe you'll find out when you get to the pony casting the spell."
Lunti stared at the dome encompassing the entire village centre. A pony? She couldn't imagine a whole school of wizards maintaining this spell for long. Whoever was casting it was quite possibly the most powerful unicorn in Equestria.
She tested the barrier with a rock. As Zorne had explained on the way across the river, the barrier ignored the stone as it passed through it. But the pieces of chipped ox horns lying around the barrier proved that it was as solid as a bronze wall. Lunti reached out her hoof this time and closed her eyes.
She expected some kind of tingling sensation, the kind of electrified feeling when a pony walked over somewhere that had just been struck by lightning, but to her flesh, the intense magic was no different from empty air.
Lunti stepped through the barrier as easily as walking through a door and turned back to Zorne. It was tempting to sprint away, to keep running and hope that the Changelings wouldn't find her, or at least wouldn't bother. But the catapults were still in sight, and Zorne was still a leg's reach away. Even behind the barrier Lunti didn't feel protected from the Changeling. His glazed blue sockets stared back at her intensely. Her heart pounded as her body still felt under the threat of the Changelings.
Wherever the Marblestop ponies were, they didn't have the privilege of feeling safe. Lunti nodded and faced the road leading into the square. She had to bring down the barrier, but that didn't mean she couldn't help the ponies here. Her old life was plagued with her selfishness. The things she did, they hurt the ones close to her. Whichever spirit was looking after her, Lunti hoped doing some good now would give her the fortune to escape one day.
Lunti's eyes darted tirelessly around as she entered the square itself. The four temples of the village watched over the workshops and stores. She had visited Marblestop once with her father, when she was very young, but remembered the temples and their mosaic art.
These new temples, however, surprised her. They were grander and taller, made with fresh caementine and bricks for the walls. Pheonix, Obsidian, Moonstone, and Ashe, their temples had copper idols of their spirit animals, hanging above the doors. As Lunti neared the steps to Pheonix's temple she noticed the air was charged with energy.
She looked up at the two copper phoenix idols. Their beaks were slightly open, and at the tip of their tongues, Lunti saw where crystals had been slotted into place. The mouths shone with a white light, like the moon, with the crystals at the centre.
No ponies casting a spell. Lunti was surprised. It was all done by enchanted crystals. And above each idol, Lunti could see a thin trail of white light, connecting with the barrier. This was the same for every idol at every temple, their magic working together to create massive barrier greater than their own.
She stepped through the barrier and, once again, it was like nothing was there. She walked into the echoing entrance chamber, listening to the soft chanting inside. She expected a few hundred at least to be left inside, but it sounded like only a few remained in the temple.
Their village centre was surrounded entirely, and if all Changelings could smell like Zorne, then trying to escape would lead to being hunted down. It seemed impossible that hundreds of ponies could just disappear.
She kept to herself along the wall, listening. On both sides, marble hallways turned sharply into the heart of the temple. There, tall marble pillars touched the ceiling, and every visible surface was covered in paintings.
Some were new, impressive for a few months of rebuilding, but still crude and lifeless. Others were intricate originals, crafted by true masters. Copper was embedded in the marble with some caementine. The shiny metal created the illusion of movement in the firelight.
Dozens of lanterns hung from the top of the pillars, burning scented oils. Sweet flowers and rich pine filled the temple's air. As for the ponies inside, their chanting became clear once Lunti entered the room. It was in an old dialect Marblestop use to speak before Riverfork's eclectic tongue became common across Equestria.
Tehraem mi abliga, mour ono genta, Sacvamti. The words drew out their breath, stretching many seconds for each syllabus. Lunti understood only a few words but recognized the chant as a whole. It was part of the many lessons she learned from her private tutors.
"Kill the monsters inside us," she mouthed, translating what little she knew. It was a chant given by ponies begging the spirits for forgiveness, symbolizing a purging of a pony's bad decisions and desires. The words, however, were all too fitting for their situation. Lunti recalled a scholar's theory that the chant was older than its written version in scrolls, and that it referred to literal monsters hiding within ponies. In other words, Changelings.
Lunti couldn't help but smile. There were ways to fight the Changelings, even if they couldn't overcome them with violence.
Slowly she approached, putting herself into the dim light the others chanted with. It looked like they sat around a candle, but as she neared them, it became clear. A young phoenix, the animal of Marblestop's chief patron spirit.
The chanting stopped at last as the phoenix's firelight revealed Lunti to the other ponies.
"Who are you?" one of them asked. She was at the centre of the group, dressed in a plain garment as they were, though the fabric was a much deeper orange compared to their browns.
Lunti hesitated. She knew they'd suspect her if she told them the truth, that the Changelings forced her to come and lower the barrier. They might not even listen to her warnings if they did. But what lie could she say that would convince them that she wasn't a random pony who happened to know the Changeling's plans?
"The name's Lunti," she said, "and I'm going to sound crazy to you at first, but you need to listen to the whole truth before you judge me."
The others looked at her warily but said nothing. They were clearly on edge, but they trusted their magic barriers enough to assume she wasn't a threat.
"The Changelings outside your dome, they want their kind back," Lunti explained. "They wouldn't tell me everything, but I'm guessing you captured one of their leaders." She waved her hoof in the air above her. "And all these barriers are the prison walls."
The orange-robed chanter stepped forward, placing herself between Lunti and the other ponies. There was an awkward silence as she inspected her, glaring into her tired eyes and gazing over her gaunt frame.
"You serve them?" she asked sadly.
"What choice did I have?" Lunti defended herself. "They're hunters with senses sharper than the best hounds in Equestria. They're smart too. They've built catapults around the town square, and they'll destroy everything in here until they get an answer."
"That's impossible," said the orange-robed mare, grasping for words. "I thought we'd have more time. Lady Changeling hasn't returned from her camp."
Lunti furrowed her brows. "Who in Equestria is 'Lady Changeling?'"
The orange-robed mare turned to her herd, looking to them for advice. But all they gave her were blank stares. They didn't know what to do either.
She sighed. "The Changelings didn't simply attack our village. Lady Changeling ended the system of debt slavery. She forced the old masters out of the village, and those who did not leave were captured as her food so that the rest of us could live peacefully."
Lunti slowly understood. She had seen the size of a pack when she was taken from Riverfork, and a single pack could never hope to overpower a village like Marblestop. Its militia included almost every stallion, and their blacksmiths worked iron into the finest weapons. But starting a slave revolt as an opportunity to strike changed things.
And hundreds of former masters to feed off of? No wonder the Changelings from the hive wanted Marblestop for themselves. By comparison, she and Chevron were scraps of food on a dinner plate.
"If she's not here then you're on your own," Lunti told the mare. "Lower the barrier or the Changelings will destroy everything."
"You can't!" cried one of the other chanters. Murmurs from the rest seemed to agree.
The orange-robed mare hushed her ponies before answering Lunti. "We've hidden our young and old in the catacombs below the temple. If the barrier is dropped, they'll have nowhere to go."
"Just the young and old?" Lunti looked around the temple. There was definitely no one else in the room with them, and the other temples seemed silent and empty. "What about all the others?"
"The soldiers? They split up," she explained. "Some escorted the Changelings to the mountains, others took the long way out of the village."
"How?"
She pointed to the ground around them. "Old waterways for flood control run through the village square. But they were dug up by the Changelings just after the soldiers left."
Lunti threw a hoof up in disbelief. "Well, they're not looking for you now! They're putting all their efforts into finishing their catapults. This is your last chance to get out of here."
She knew it was true for herself, too. Zorne was hoping she'd be afraid enough to cooperate, but there was no chance she'd help them after they pulled her away from Riverfork. Now they had a way out of the village, and the monsters that had once cut off every path of escape were distracted by their new constructs.
The leader of the chanters considered it for a moment. Their soldiers were lucky to have left through the tunnels before the Changelings had a chance to find the passages. She thought after they were surrounded, there was no hope of escape. Even now, she was doubtful, but the chance presented itself, and there was no way of knowing if it would ever happen again.
"Help me open the floor panels," she told Lunti, waving her over the back of the temple. "We sealed the entrances to the tunnels once the Changelings started tunnelling."
She pointed to the rest of the chanters. "Go down to the catacombs and get every pony up here. We can't be sure how long until the Changelings start their siege, so be quick."
Halfwing ran out to her camp to find a blaze of mining crystals blowing holes into the mountainside. All manner of animals and monsters were fighting the ponies, quickly overwhelming their formations.
She launched heavy arcs of searing magic, scorching the fur on the bears and manticores attacking her new hive. From above, hawks and crows carried crystals high into the air, cracking them like nuts and dropping them to explode onto the pony soldiers.
To her relief, however, Septarian had managed to erect a defence against the attack. Carts of iron ore were overturned to form low walls for the soldiers to hide behind. Others worked together to flip over tables as barricades, thrusting at the Changelings from safety.
Yelled orders to the ponies running out of the mines behind her, moving them to avoid incoming crystal explosions and reinforcing troops who were pinned down. Months ago fighting even one manticore was a fantasy for Halfwing. But since then she had fed on more magic than any captain she had encountered in the hive.
She levelled her horn and charged forward. A barrier formed around her, but she warped its shape to focus into a spearhead wherever her horn pointed. The energy lance burst through the chest of the first bear she saw, evaporating the spray of blood as she passed through.
Her ponies rallied at the sight, many of them throwing themselves from their barricades to join the fight. To the attackers' surprise, the ponies had become fierce animals, bearing iron weapons that made thick fur redundant.
"For the Lady!" shouted one stallion, leaping off a table with a spear on each foreleg and landing on the back of a manticore. He thrust them both into the monster and steered the screeching beast into the rest of the forces.
When it became apparent that fear no longer affected the ponies, the Changelings adapted their tactics. Dozens of bears moulted away, becoming slender mountain cats that could pounce on and maul a pony before they attacked.
Halfwing fought her way through the madness to reach Septarian. "Have you seen my sisters?"
"Hard to tell," he said, grunting with enormous effort as he pressed his spear through the ribs of a mountain cat. "If they're here, they're not taking any special forms."
More explosions went off around the mountain, collapsing more rocks on the miners trying to join the fight. Halfwing turned and blasted the boulders away, but between that and all the fighting, it was a matter of time before the entrance caved.
"Hunter-drones don't fight this hard unless ordered to," Halfwing said, breathing heavily as he spent more magic trying to land blows onto the faster cats.
"Then if we hold the line, we'll find them eventually," Septarian reassured her.
Halfwing scanned the battle, searching for any creature that was acting like her sisters. Tenacity would be fighting up in the front, no doubt. But as much as she wanted to take revenge that moment, Majesta was a far bigger threat. She looked up at the sky. Her bigger sister would take the strongest advantage, and those magic crystals were hurting the ponies' formations the most.
Every time she spotted one, Halfwing fired on a bird. Rarely she managed to hit, but to evade her bolts of magic the Changelings had to let go of their crystals. Halfwing caught these and tossed them back to her ponies. They used them to great effect, driving back the other creatures with one explosion after the other.
Halfwing found she was so caught up in the success that she didn't notice the mine's entrance until the miners began shouting from it. There, the rubble had been pushed aside as birds swooped down and transformed themselves into cave snakes and rodents the size of hounds.
"For the love of Phoenix," Halfwing cursed herself for not realizing what was happening. She reformed her vocals and sent a shrill call through the entire mining camp. It hit the ears of every creature with a honed frequency. Her own hunter-drones were familiar to it by now, but to both ponies and her sister's drones alike, the screech was nothing but disorienting.
"Majesta's headed for the mines," she told her pack. "Kill her before she releases Spectra and outnumbers us."
In unison, eleven drones took to the air and swarmed into the mine. Carrier, as always, flew over and grabbed her up, carrying her to fight alongside her pack. Septarian retreated to tighten the formation. Without the magic of the pack, the ponies were forced to fight closer together, relying on the strength of their training instead of magic.
Spectra was wise to stand away from her cell door. Bright flashes of light seeped through the cracks. Fading cries echoed through the tunnels of the mine as ponies died defending their prisoners.
The door cracked open with a flare of power. It flew off its stone hinges and bounced around the stone room. Tenacity stood in the middle of the settling dust, her horn and those of her drones flaring with magic as they drove back ponies.
"Quite the show," Spectra said as she rushed to her sister's side, shooting down two miners charging with iron picks strapped to their hooves. "I guess this means Halfwing's taken care of?"
"She put up a stronger fight," Tenacity said. "Majesta should be taking care of it though."
Spectra groaned. "Another thing our sister can take credit for."
They fought their way deeper into the mine, following the unmistakable scent of Changelings. Spectra knew neither Halfwing nor her pack would have bothered to go this deep into the mine. Such tasks were for worker-drones or, in this case, ponies.
They put up a good fight, the miners. The familiarity with the mines showed as they organized themselves into efficient formations, cutting off escape for the Changelings. But the hive was far more complex than anything ponies could dig up, and by instinct alone, Spectra and Tenacity slaughtered their way through the ponies' ranks.
They paused at the first door they encountered. There was a faint Changeling smell, but it was too old for it to be Spectra's pack. Though the cell door, they could smell a vortex of despair and hope. It stung their tongues with bitter-sweet flavours of love.
"This must be her larder," Tenacity said, licking her lips. "It's not right for Halfwing to be so lucky."
"Not that I don't agree," Spectra said wistfully, "but if we take our time Majesta's going to have all the credit for winning this battle."
Tenacity grumbled. "Then we'll take them back before we return home."
They reached the deepest parts of the mine, slipping through narrower tunnels into natural caverns that the miners must have stumbled upon. Acidic water and calcified walls filled the air with a familiar smell, and it reminded Spectra strongly of their hive. It seemed that Halfwing really did intend to break away completely.
There were hardly any ponies left in the mine now, but the few in the cavern were thickly armoured in layered robes and heavy masks. At the back of the cavern Spectra smelled her pack, but along the way was at least a dozen workstations with complex contraptions she barely understood.
Copper flasks and tubes crisscrossed, refining the various fluids running through them by repeated heating and cooling. The products were stored in thick pots made of refined caementine, the recipe so well mixed that its surface was glassy and smooth.
Inside the pots, Spectra looked and found numerous crystals piled at the bottom, all pointing upward like stalactites. As they flew across the cavern, their pack descended onto the remaining ponies. Most ran and cowered, curling up behind tables and hoping to be spared. But a few brave souls stood at the final door at the back of the cave, two pots of crystal fluid at either side.
These ponies were likely slaves to scholars, alchemists, and magicians, Spectra guessed from their apparatuses. They were fit for delicate work, not the back-breaking labour of building or digging. Whatever was in the caementine pots would have to be dealt with carefully.
"Neither you nor your drones are leaving here alive," shouted one of the three ponies. He stuck his hoof into the pot and pulled out a jagged crystal rod, shaped with a narrow point at the end like the rest of the stalactite-looking crystals. His robe had a loose loop on the sleeve for wrapping around the crystal, holding it somewhat in place while he levelled his foreleg at the Changelings.
Tenacity eyed him carefully, and the others too as they presented their own crystals. She kept her horn lowered but kept her magic restrained, just below the surface. Spectra looked at her, then back at crystals.
The ponies were frightened and her sister, despite her strong composure, was overeager to go for the kill. Spectra decided to pool her magic as well, taking the time to picture a cat in her mind. If fighting broke out, the only thing she had to focus on was avoiding their attacks and setting her pack free.
They were still too close to the village to feel free yet, but Lunti's heartbeat flutter with elation as the last of the elderly exited the old waterways and into the open light. The sun was on its way to the horizon now, about to turn orange in an hour or so. No doubt the Changelings had already started launching their stones at the village square.
It was uneventful leaving the village, though they did pass under the Changelings a small number of times. As Lunti guessed, they were preoccupied with their catapults. Even if they had the ability to build siege engines, it was clear the Changelings were not used to it. Once they passed a set of Changelings unable to keep tension in a rope. Another group had measured their planks wrong, and nothing fit together tightly.
Nevertheless, they finished construction before the chanters could lead their herd out of the village. The crunching sounds of stone was an unmistakable sign.
From below, the ponies whimpered every time they felt the ground rumble. Chunks of marble walls were being hurled at their village square, no doubt. Lunti had seen how many catapults the Changelings were building and knew it wouldn't be long until the entire square was turned to ruins.
Even if she didn't feel defended by Marblestop's spirits, but she still felt a deep sadness for the loss of the temples. Lunti had met every artist her father hired whenever he wanted to the council hall to be decorated, but this was different. The mosaics were ancient, but whoever had first built the temples could put every living artist to shame.
"We need to head for the mines. Lady Changeling can offer safety to the children and elderly." The orange-robed mare directed her heard once they had passed the last building in Marblestop. She was as secretive at the Changelings, keeping her name to herself. But every pony else put absolute confidence in her words.
"Look, uh, Orange," Lunti said cautiously. "I know she did a lot for you, but Lady Changeling is the reason why the others are here. It's some sort of power struggle between their leaders."
"All the more reason to go," Orange answered. "Lady Changeling has at least shown mercy to some ponies. Can you say the same for the other princesses?"
Lunti shook her head but was hesitant to agree. The mountains of Marblestop was the source of all the marble and iron in their region of Equestria. There were numerous mines and quarries spread across the land, but from the village, all she could see was a range of green giants that stretched from the earth to the stars. There was the wild, and there the Changelings would be in their element.
But Lunti found herself following anyways. Ponies needed to stick to a herd for safety, and even if they disagreed, it was by far a better idea to stay with the chanters. Going back to Riverfork alone meant danger; if Zorne didn't catch her scent and track her down, then wild timber wolves and mountain lions would have her as their dinner.
They trotted slowly along overgrown paths up the mountainside. The chanters herded the children together, who were excited despite the grizzly battlefield they had just escaped. Between them, all Lunti could hear was high pitched chatter about seeing Lady Changeling and her magic.
The elder ponies were slower going. A couple chanters followed on either side of them to make sure they handled the climb, but the herd couldn't help but be spread thin by the two drastically different groups. They were prime prey for Changelings, and it made Lunti uneasy.
"The barrier crystals," Lunti mentioned in order to her mind off of it, "how did you create those?"
"Oh, those aren't mine," she answered. "Marblestop was the largest buyer of northern crystals. We bought blast crystals for mining, while the old masters bought all sorts of trinkets with odd tricks."
"I'm familiar," Lunti said, remembering how her friend Reiter had bought sound-cancelling boots.
"Well, Marblestop has its own share of scholars," she continued. "Those of us who worked for them had to learn some of what they did to create their own crystals. They used chemical reagents and enchantments to create new crystals so we wouldn't have to keep selling iron to northern villages."
"So some ponies just sat around and experimented until they got the right crystal?" Lunti was in disbelief. Magic was a spectacle, but their process sounded monotonous and tiring.
Orange laughed. "Sometimes hard work is what gets you to your goal. Every pony Lady Changeling helped was once a slave, so we know all about hard work."
Lunti wanted to ask more questions and press her for her real name. But just as the mountain soil started turning rough and stony, explosions began to ring through the trees.
"Were those blasting crystals?" Lunti asked, hoping it wasn't.
"We have to hurry," Orange shouted to her flock before leaning closer to Lunti. "You have to stay with us. If Lady Changeling is in trouble, there won't be any pony left to protect our herd."
Lunti nodded reflexively and galloped ahead of the herd alongside Orange. Whatever wishes she had for a peaceful were gone, and she realized as the mining camp came into view that she had no idea what she was doing.
"Found another one," said a hunter-drone to Zorne. He pointed his horn to a collapsed phoenix idol, its head misshapen by a pile of marble bricks.
Zorne joined the drone and reached out to the idol, stopping short as his hoof was thrust back by a weak pushing force. The crystal inside the idol's beak was cracked, but it still managed a localized barrier around its head.
"We were stopped by a bunch of crystals?" Zorne looked around at all the other idols his pack had uncovered from the rubble. The small barriers were unstable, shifting their shape as they tried to work together and form a stronger bond. But they were all too damaged to hold a larger barrier.
He blasted an arc of magic at the ground in frustration, which flung itself around the village square and struck a wall after being repelled by a crystal.
His lieutenants came from around the square to report their scouts' findings.
"Her scent leads to mountains," one of them informed Zorne. "Used the tunnels."
Zorne stomped his hoof. He had ordered the siege engines to be built as fast as possible. That left no guards at any of the escape tunnels. He expected the ponies to stay inside their barrier, not flee. But as long as they had the scent, it didn't matter.
"Gather the pack and get ready to fly," he ordered. They had been flushed out of their hiding place, and there wasn't a single place in Equestria they could go without leaving their scent. Zorne licked his fangs as he thought about how he'd question the ponies they'd find. It had been years since he went out with the Queen on a hunt. He hoped he hadn't lost his touch.
Halfwing and her pack flew through a graveyard. The mine's tunnels were soaked in blood, heavy with the scent of fear. The dead and injured lay strewn throughout the mine in equal amounts, all the way to the deepest end of the mine.
The echoing voices became clearer as they neared the entrance to the alchemy laboratory. "Neither you nor your drones are leaving here alive," shouted a pony.
It was as good of a time as any to test the new blast crystals, Halfwing supposed. She and her pack rushed into the cavern, launching bolts of magic at the ground to draw a line between her sisters and the exit. Spectra was, of course, freed, but to Halfwing's surprise, it wasn't Majesta who had entered the mine, but Tenacity.
Her sisters' drones returned the attack with green shells of magic, but even after the battle outside Halfwing still had more than enough magic stored inside her. She disintegrated their blasts with a wave of her horn.
"The pony's right, sisters," she taunted, waving her horn at them. "I knew since the night we attacked that you'd show up eventually. And so I made preparations."
She gestured to the pony who had spoken. He looked at her with uncertainty, but there was trust written in the scent of his magic. He took his crystal and smashed it against the ground, breaking off the end. It rattled with power, flaring like a red iron at a forge. Tenacity's hunter-drones produced barriers from their horns to deflect the blast, but it didn't stop the crystal from launching itself across the cavern.
The broken end ejected magic in a stream, forcing itself through the air like a bird diving for its prey. The stalactite-shaped crystal soared wildly, but it managed to find itself lodged in the chest of a hunter-drone anyway. It jammed itself into the chitin, glowing brighter and deepening its cracks. The whole pack scattered as the crystal erupted inside the Changeling, spraying his ichor and flesh in the air as a fine mist.
The other ponies were ecstatic to see their creation work. But Tenacity didn't give them a moment to appreciate it. She flung herself onto the pony who fired the crystal and tore his throat out with her fangs. Her pack swarmed the other two, who in their panic launched their crystals in wayward directions.
"That's enough!" Halfwing screeched, ordering her drones to stop her sisters. The two packs collided and their magic lit up the cavern like broad daylight.
Tenacity pushed Spectra aside and pounced onto Halfwing the first chance she had. They clung onto each other, by fang and horn, and release bursts of energy from their horns even at close range. As Halfwing expected, Tenacity was a brutal fighter, biting at her eyes and throat relentlessly. In the struggle, neither had the time to transform.
They broke apart only when a loose bolt of magic came between them. Tenacity was immediately on her hooves, stretching her wings to intimidate. Halfwing refused to back down. She did the same, flaring open her one good wing. Her horn crackled with magic, but it had grown less potent after so many spells. At her prime, Halfwing knew she should have been able to immolate her sister with a single spell. Now it seemed they had more equal footing.
"I should have thrown you in the pit when we were born," Tenacity hissed, unleashing a beam of magic. "and kept your other wing as a reminder of how worthless you were."
Halfwing deflected the beam with a barrier, erupting a pot of crystals on the other side of the cavern. She pressed, charging down Tenacity with her horn levelled. The two locked horns, but Halfwing carried more momentum, pressing her sister back into the cavern wall.
Bolts of magic flew at them as Tenacity's hunter-drones tried to rescue her, but even though they outnumbered Halfwing's pack, the difference between their reserves of energy was insurmountable. Halfwing's drones had magic to spare, throwing around Tenacity's forces like dolls.
But they fought harder to save their princess when Tenacity roared. Pain surged through her body as Halfwing burned a hole through her chitin by focusing her magic onto a single point. Tenacity struggled to coat herself in a layer of magic, but nothing she made withstood the determination built into the spearhead of Halfwing's final blow.
Spectra ripped open the door to her pack's cells and found them bound tightly to the cavern floor. Their horns had crystal rods tied to them, threatening to explode if they attempted to use magic to escape. It was cruelly clever, and though she would have done it as well, Spectra couldn't stand the sight of her hunter-drones mistreated.
"They're fighting each other?" her captain asked once she undid their bindings.
"Tenacity and Halfwing," she said cheerfully now that her pack was around her again. "But what's new?"
Her captain looked through the door to see the fight for himself. "Halfwing's winning this time, so there's that."
"Well I hope Tenacity can hold out long enough for us to leave this mess," she said, pointing to the crystals that had been strapped to her drones. "Grab more of those on your way out. We'll use it to collapse the mine behind us."
Her captain smiled. There was obviously no way Spectra could have planned to trap her sisters in the mine, but her patience with being captured was finally about to pay off. Two rivals with one ruse. The only way it could be better was if Princess Majesta had joined the attack.
They rushed their way through the skirmish, picking off Halfwing's hunter-drones one at a time. With their reserves of magic, they were the largest threat to their escape.
Spectra believed they had made it until Tenacity's screamed ceased. Halfwing broke off her attack and shouted to her drones. "Do not let them escape!" Immediately, Tenacity bit her in the neck.
Spectra's pack hurried for the exit, firing bolts of magic at the pots of crystals they passed. The explosions worked as expected, cracking off chunks of stone from the walls and denying Halfwing's drones an easy chase. Once they were in the tunnels, Spectra's captain began dropping the crystals behind them. Hunter-drones took turns smashing the crystal rods and firing them back at their chasers.
After three explosions they had sealed in the other Changelings. But both Spectra and her captain were unsure of how much magic Halfwing's pack still had. To be sure, they collapsed the mine the entire way until they reached the highest level of the mines, where sunlight was finally visible. Sunlight, and the shadow of Spectra's other sister.
Majesta stood expectantly for Spectra outside the mine. For a moment, she was surprised her sister actually seemed happy to see her. But in Majesta's hoof was a small satchel, and when she dumped the contents on the floor, Spectra couldn't help but feel enraged. Her sister had stolen her idea.
The satchel dropped a number of cracked blasting crystals, the same kind that had been destabilising the entire surface of the mountain for the duration of the battle. Spectra lowered her head and sprung for the exit, flying just an inch off the ground just to beat the crystals' explosion. But her efforts simply ended up putting her closer to the explosion.
The force threw her back into her pack. Worst still, she could feel the earth giving way to magic's violent actions. Ray by ray, beams of sunlight winked away while a few tons of solid marble and granite crumbled over the mouth of the mine.
Lunti knew the moment she saw the Changeling princess that it wasn't Spectra. She was too tall and seemed more physically intimidating than the rest of her pack. The others knew it too. Orange and her chanters had already positioned themselves in front of the young and elderly, a bad sign that they were not dealing with their beloved Lady Changeling.
The princess alerted her pack and ordered them to take to the air and hover above them. Their pupilless eyes shimmered blue in sunlight reflecting off their carapace. Black chitinous armour made them imposing, their gaze like vultures staring at carrion.
"That is enough, Princess Majesta." The voice came from behind the ponies, followed by the buzzing of yet another Changeling pack. The voice was filled with sharp clicks and lower resonation, but Lunti still recognized Zorne.
"My pack hasn't eaten in a while captain Zorne," answered Majesta. She gestured to the collapsed entrance. "And my sisters won't be needing it now."
He looked at the pile of stone slabs piled up inside the mine's entrance. "Impressively done, Princess, but that doesn't change the Queen's orders."
Majesta laughed at that notion. "You stubborn old fool, your orders are over. Spectra is dead."
"Then I will find her body," he replied calmly. "But either way, princess, you will move aside."
"Watch your tone, drone." Her eyes narrowed. "Do not forget, my mother is not here. My word is law on this hunt."
But her claim caused an aggressive bristling across Zorne's pack. His drones, each one with decades of experience, were wholly dedicated to their Queen.
The ponies were speechless now. Surrounded on all sides by Changelings, even the chanters cowered and waited for the fighting to begin, hoping for a chance to escape. Their Lady was in that mine too, and the chance that she was dead broke their confidence.
Lunti was amazed to see the difference in loyalty. Zorne, a creature of deception, was standing against his own kind to find his leader.
Meanwhile, Majesta's captains rallied the remainder of her drones. In the fight, she had lost a few hunter-drones, but her two packs combined still had the numbers to match Zorne, even if they lacked the experience.
But she knew it too. Zorne's loyalty was impenetrable. Against any other captain, her dominance would have been enough to turn the whole pack submissive, but Zorne was beyond her abilities.
"Captains," she ordered. "Go find any ponies who survived the battle. Zorne flushed out his prey from their hole, he can keep his hard-won spoils."
They retreated to the other side of the mining camp, allowing Zorne's drones to take their place around the ponies. Zorne himself waded through the cowering crowd in search of Lunti. But she knew what would happen if she let him accuse her of betrayal..
She stood up, with a considerable amount of hope in her mind, and addressed him directly. "It took you long enough."
"Excuse me?" he smirked, intrigued by her sudden boldness.
"With your sense of smell I figured you would have tracked them down sooner," she lied. "I suppose it doesn't matter. In the end, they led you to your princess either way."
Zorne laughed. "You mean you tricked them to lead you here?"
"Didn't need tricking," Lunti shrugged, gesturing to the confused chanters and pouting children. "It's in our nature to flee. We don't pounce on prey, we gallop from predators. I figured that if they had a place secure enough for a Changeling leader, they'd go there for protection from you. I simply had to spook them."
"Lunti, you can't mean this," the orange chanter said. Her expression was defensive, but Zorne could smell her magic and all the uncertainty behind it.
It was the same with Lunti's scent. There was still fear in her, combined with an understandable amount of guilt, but amidst all those scents, Zorne could still tell she was lying. What part of her story was a lie, though, he could not tell. He wanted to believe it was all of it, but the results were undeniable. She had saved him the trouble of interrogating the ponies and simply tracked them down to Princess Halfwing's command centre. For now, she seemed loyal enough to earn the benefit of a doubt.
Zorne turned and addressed one of his lieutenants. "No doubt there's some equipment left from the battle. Go see if you can find some rope to bind the prey. If Spectra and her pack are still alive in there, they'll appreciate the meal."
The crumbling tunnel roof was not a good sign as Spectra and her captain pulled the larger stones that had collapsed at the mine's entrance. Half of her pack was already busy holding the support beams that the ponies had build, using magic to levitate otherwise useless structures.
"Zorne's on the other side," her captain said, relief washing over his aura as they both sensed Zorne's powerful magic. "Not even Princess Majesta stands up to his authority."
"We can count our blessings later," Spectra said. "The mountain is a force of nature even we have to respect."
He nodded. "In that, I agree."
Piece by piece they cleared the stones and sunlight made its way through the top of the debris. As soon as the gap was wide enough for the pack to file out, they began to escape one by one until three remained, struggling to maintain the tunnel.
"I have enough magic stored to hold the tunnel," Spectra told her pack, but one of her hunter-drones pushed her toward the exit.
"As soon as you go, we'll make our escape," the drone said.
"But the tunnel will collapse before you all make it."
He nodded. "Go, we accept our fate. Our duty to the hive is much smaller than yours."
Spectra didn't like the idea of losing her hunters, they made up the backbone of her strength, the strength she needed to challenge Majesta. But they were not without reason. Hunter-drones could be replaced, there were thousands more back at the hive, and thousands more hidden all across Equestria, hunting. But if she held the mine and it collapsed, there would be no one to replace her. She turned and fled the mine without another word.
"So Majesta was wrong, you did survive." Zorne waited outside, and to her surprise, so was Lunti.
"Can't say the same for Tenacity and Halfwing," Spectra replied, still looking curiously at Lunti.
"The princesses are on their own," Zorne said. "You're lucky I even came for you."
Spectra gestured to Lunti. "Did she have something to do with that, captain?"
Zorne nodded, then pointed to the other ponies his pack had captured. "She talked them into leaving the village so we could follow their scent to you."
Spectra watched the angry stares of the ponies. Most were elderly or children, though a few dressed in robes looked healthy and able-bodied, excellent specimens of prey. One of them, uniquely dressed in orange, glared straight at Lunti. Hatred and betrayal ran through her magic, Lunti's magic reacting with the scent of shame and guilt.
"Points all around for loyalty then." Spectra patted Lunti on the head and gestured to the other ponies. "Drain their magic before we make the march for the hive. I want my hunter-drones well fed, they've earned it."
Not all, however, could appreciate the reward. Of the three remaining drones, only one of them, the oldest, managed to leave the mine before a terrifying shudder sealed the mine. Spectra accepted their fate but was thankful that the sound of crushing stone drowned out the dying cries of her drones.
The nest was filled with sounds of crying ponies once they were put into their nest-rooms high on top of the trees. The groundskeeper, along with a few of Spectra's drones, watched them carefully. The young and old were fragile catches and, without supervision, could easily become dead weight.
"The princess just couldn't catch a bunch of mutes," the groundskeeper sighed as he hovered between the prey's nest-rooms.
"There weren't any mutes to catch," snapped back a hunter-drone.
He laughed. There was no hope of bridging the mental gap between drone and groundskeeper. Their loyalty bordered on mindless and their sense of duty removed their humour. The groundskeeper enjoyed playing around with them, even if only to distract himself from the cries of the young ponies.
In the lower nest-rooms, Spectra's mind raced through what her next move had to be. Majesta had not returned to the groundskeeper with her prey. The scent trail left by the injured and scared soldiers that Majesta had captured pointed her away from the nest, heading directly south to the hive.
She wanted to make it to their mother and report her success first, no doubt overplaying her role. Spectra hissed, cursing herself for not pushing her pack hard enough. If the march back home killed a few of the elderly ponies, it would have been worth it to catch up to Majesta.
"You should know, I can't understand you when you're hissing like that." Lunti sat across from her in the nest-room, slowly picking apart a bowl of vegetables drizzled with olive oil. Along with the ponies, Spectra's pack also harvested numerous pony utensils, like bowls, plates, and forks, as well as food for the prey.
But it was Spectra who recommended taking a few amenities as a way to keep the prey happy and to reward Lunti for her alleged contribution to Zorne's plans.
Spectra reshaped her vocal chords to speak with pony words. "That's because I wasn't talking to you, sweetie."
"Don't call me that," Lunti growled.
"Why not? Don't like how you taste?"
Lunti shifted comfortably, but there wasn't anywhere else she could go. Her place in a lower nest was purely symbolic, she was no more free than any of the other ponies.
Spectra wrapped her hooves around Lunti, pressing her mouth to her ear. "Neither do I, because right now, you taste like a liar. I know you didn't help Zorne out of loyalty to me. Somewhere in your story, you're lying."
The fact that Changelings could tell so much from scent alone chilled Lunti, but from experience, she knew she couldn't struggle free. Instead, her body froze, an animal playing dead.
"I might not know what you're lying about," Spectra added, "but I think you'll want to tell me."
"I don't-"
Spectra cut her off, pressing a hoof against her mouth. Gently, she brought Lunti's neck to the tips of her fangs. She ran them down her neck slowly, drawing no more than a drop of blood.
"When my sisters and I were young, we couldn't take magic directly, so we drank it from blood." Spectra licked the blood drop. "So tell me why you really helped."
"That Changeling told me I'd be treated better," she answered.
Spectra laughed. "Zorne stooped so low as to bargain with prey?" It was a funny thought, imagining him sitting at a table, discussing the terms of Lunti's imprisonment. But it still wasn't the whole truth. She sank her weight onto Lunti and pinched her face tightly.
Restrained, Lunti could only shiver while Spectra traced the veins in her neck with her tongue. She stopped just below her jaw and nibbled open another drop of blood, lapping up the drops one by one. It was terrifying, but not because of the pain. In fact, Spectra's tongue made her neck warmer while numbing the skin where she bit.
The sensation slipped deeper into her, relieving the neck pain caused by crawling through Marblestop's waterways. And this, Spectra seemed to notice.
"I figured you'd like that," she smiled. "The groundskeeper's a great teacher. Did you know, some of the bats here can numb their prey before drinking blood? Found out today."
"Please, I just thought you wouldn't do this if you had other ponies," Lunti pleaded, her dread easily overcoming the pain relief of Spectra's numbing saliva.
Spectra shook her head and flipped Lunti onto her stomach. Leaves and twigs from the nest-room rubbed against her face, but that slight discomfort wasn't much to worry about as Spectra traced an arc with her fangs across the back of her neck. In fact, her tongue followed her spine, running up and down the length of her back, releasing the same warm, numbing sensation through her whole body.
"Stop it," Lunti spat through leaves.
"You don't sound very convinced," Spectra said, licking up the blood. "No wonder you can't tell me the truth, you're even lying to yourself."
"I led Zorne to you," Lunti mumbled. "He helped dig you out because of me. Why are you doing this?"
"Because I know you want me dead," Spectra hissed playfully, even though her last words were biting. "I need to know if you'll be loyal to me, despite your fears."
"What kind of logic is that? If you think I hate you why keep me around?"
Spectra smirked and flipped Lunti back around, sitting on her stomach, face to face. "Because all minds can be changed." She leaned in and pressed her chest against Lunti's constricting her lungs, forcing her to take bated breaths. Spectra pressed their lips together, pulling directly on Lunti's magic, but slowly. The strain made Lunti gag, but Spectra had an unnatural strength that shrunk her coughs into tiny convulsions.
When they broke apart, Lunti had a lot to say despite her weakening voice. "I did by accident! I wanted to run away but the chanters dragged me with them to their Lady Changeling." She wiggled around to try and expand her chest for more air. "I thought Lady Changeling could protect me from you, but I had no idea Zorne could track me down before then."
"Not so hard, is it?" Spectra stayed laying down on Lunti but released her weight so the pony could breathe properly.
Lunti coughed, wretched, struggling to keep herself upright after that violation. "You're the worst," she said, still holding on to her defiance. She was going to suffer no matter what she did, so she held on to all the little things she could still do.
"Maybe," Spectra said. "But maybe that's what I want to be."
Spectra looked back across her pack as they began to cross the wetlands, at the border of the hive's influence. Here, the land was densely inhabited by long, thick-skinned reptiles and massive whisker-fish. They were moving as slower than before due to their new prey.
The Marblestop children were hardest to manage. They were afraid of everything and needed to be tied up before they were put into the boats. The elderly had to handled gently. The range of complications, from bad joints to muscle aches, made Spectra wonder if they were even worth carrying back to the hive. At best they'd live a few more months before stressed broke their bodies down.
She watched carefully with her own drones, keeping an eye on Tenacity's prey as well. She had brought five stallions with her from the hive, but without her or her pack to keep them in check, that responsibility was put on Spectra now. Majesta was right about them; Tenacity rushed her hunt, picking up ponies with so little left to live for that the emotions in their magic tasted like bitter wax. Still, they at least gave her hunter-drones the energy to make the march home.
"Gator!" cried a lookout on one of their rowboats. The hunter-drone dived into the water, transforming to mimic the massive toothy reptile making its way for one of the fillies on the boats. They locked in a battle while one of Zorne's lieutenants circled around the animal and drove his horn through the top of its flat head.
"See Lunti," Spectra said to the pony beside her, "we protect our food. No need to worry."
She had a cord of rope around her neck that tied her to Spectra foreleg. It kept her in close reach of Spectra while reminding her that even if she wasn't going to be treated like the other ponies, her status was little more than a pet, like a chicken that a farmer prized for her eggs.
"Come on, you and I will be at the vanguard with Zorne," Spectra said.
Lunti sat quietly, looking back on the other boats. One of them was makeshift, built from the rafts they had used to make it across in the first place, but the other rowboats were sophisticated fishing vessels. The boats were simply there when they reached the wetlands as if someone had put them there for them.
"Just ask," Spectra said. "I can smell your curiosity."
"It's nothing," she grumbled. After Zorne had forced her to help him find Spectra, the Changelings were a lot more forthcoming with their true nature, now that she already knew so much about them. But it unnerved Lunti to think they could read her thought just by scent.
"Well then you better stop thinking about whatever it is you're curious about," Spectra said. "Curiosity makes your magic taste salty and crispy, probably like those potatoes cooked in oil that they serve in Riverfork. And it's giving me quite the appetite."
She swallowed her discomfort at the idea of tasting like potatoes. "If you can eat our food why eat our magic at all?"
"It's not like I could ever stomach that garbage," Spectra retorted. "We can pick up on what pony food is supposed to taste like, but the truth is I'd rather eat raw flesh than a bowl of steamed carrots." She paused for a moment and then corrected herself. "Cheese actually isn't that bad, now that I think of it."
"So where'd you get the other boats?" Lunti asked.
"Picked a talkative one, didn't you?" Zorne remarked. Lunti was surprised to hear a snarky remark from Zorne. Going back to their hive seem to put a different jaunt in his demeanour.
"I sent a lieutenant ahead to the groundskeepers around the wetlands," Spectra said. "Over the years the hive has stored all kinds of stolen watercraft in this area. It's a bit of a hassle to get them though, groundskeepers are hard to work with."
Lunti peered across the water to the treeline that surrounded them on either side. Somewhere out there were more nests, made to dock boats and rafts built by ponies. It horrified her that their entire culture was built around harvesting ponies and their wealth. She grew up thinking Changelings hunted among them like wolves, only now realizing that they were more like cattle, each city like a pen for their shepherds to choose from.
Behind her, the other ponies were staring. They hated her, the chanters. She got their trust and it ended up getting them all captured. She wanted to believe she felt bad because she had betrayed her kind by helping the Changelings, but seeing the orange-robed chanter stare daggers at her, Lunti could only wonder if they'd ever take revenge on her.
Zorne leaned his head out the boat at something ahead. "Rear guard, reinforce our centre!" he shouted, his voice turning from regular speech to the Changeling's language of hisses and clicks.
Lunti looked to Spectra to figure out what was happening, but she wore the face of someone who didn't want to be bothered. Besides, as bolts of magic arced through the air at them, she got her answer. Majesta never wanted to reach the hive first. She wanted time to set a trap for her sister.
"This way, princess." Halfwing crawled through the gap just under a stone that blocked the passageway out, held up by one of her drones. Cut off from the sun, the collapsed tunnel was lit up only by a very slight ambient glow from her horn. It was all she could manage with what was left of her magic.
What was left of her pack was pitiful. Her captain, Carrier, and two other drones had survived their fight against Tenacity. Worse still was that they didn't even win. She was somewhere behind them, crawling through the mines. However, Halfwing imagined her sister wasn't much better off. They had both suffered extreme losses.
She squeezed herself out the other side of the rock only to hit another wall of collapsed stone. It reminded her of the place she was born in. Crushed and cramped, there was barely room to stand.
"Don't come through, there's not enough space for two," she said. Halfwing knelt down and took a look at the rocks in front of her. There were gaps between the stones, wide enough for a tunnel snake. But she had underestimated Tenacity's namesake and spent too much magic fighting.
"Carrier, can you transform into a tunnel snake?" she asked.
"I don't know if I can, princess," he said, "but I will if that is what you need."
"Good. I'll come back through and let you go ahead." She exhaled, letting all the air out of her body so she could flatten herself through the narrow gap again. "By now I think Majesta's gone, so once you slither out, you should be able to make it to Marblestop and get any surviving ponies to help dig us out."
He nodded, determination written across his scent. Piece by piece his chitin began to fall apart, shedding into the softer scales of a white, beady-eyed tunnel snake. In that form, even the narrowest of gaps posed no problem. And once his tail vanished into the other side of the rock, the wait began.
Her drone set down the slab of stone and sat down to rest. The other did the same, positioning himself behind them, watching the way they came from in case Tenacity caught up.
Not knowing how long it'd take, Halfwing closed her eyes to rest. Without magic left, if she had to come to blows with her sister, she'd need the energy.
Another lieutenant screamed as he plummeted to the ground, smouldering from a direct hit from one of Majesta's own magic bolts. That left her captain and one other lieutenant leading the pack. Zorne was occupied with his drones further ahead, holding back the majority of the fighting while Spectra got the ponies out of the way.
"Stop struggling!" hissed one of her drones to the chanters.
They moved erratically, eager to tip their boats over just to disrupt Spectra's forces. It was working. Distracted by stray bolts of magic and having to return attacks, the drones couldn't force the ponies to stay in line. The best they could do was tug at them and hold them steady.
"I don't care how you do it," Spectra shouted, throwing up a shield to deflect an arcing shot. "Get them out of the way!"
Lunti ducked, even if she was safe behind Spectra's magic. The ponies at the back couldn't see how badly their position was. Numerous gators, probably Changelings, were already working their way through the water. They would've been vulnerable, if not for the suppressing magic provided by the rest of the drones, and if the gator made it past Zorne, it wouldn't take long for them to be ripped to shreds.
"You have to listen to them!" Lunti shouted to the chanters. She knew they could hear her, even if they weren't interested in what she had to say. "They're trying to protect you right now, that's all you need to know. If we don't get out of this, then there's nothing left. We'll die, and the Changelings will win. You'll never see Marblestop again."
"That's your fault," stood up one of the colts, before a well-placed magic bolt arced its way past Spectra's shield and into his chest. The young pony went limp and slid down, straight into the water. The rest of them screamed, of course, but the next bolt of magic narrowly missed one of the chanters.
Despite their reservations, even they couldn't deny that they were not where they wanted to be. Quickly, fear froze their movement, so that only two drones had to push them back into a field of tall water-grass while the other drones fought.
"Cover us from the back," Spectra ordered her captain. "I'll take half the pack and reinforce Zorne. Move up with us once we begin pushing back on them."
"I should lead the-"
Spectra looked sternly at her captain. "Do as I say." He nodded.
Following the hisses of their princess, half of Spectra's back charged behind her toward Zorne's drones, who were struggling against both the bombardment of magic and the gators. Spectra dealt with the magic first, throwing up her own barrier to cover the gaps in Zorne's defence.
Her pack dropped below, working in pairs to distract and attack Majesta's transformed drones. One by one, the Changelings shifted back into their natural form, either by death or because they needed a different angle of attack. Spectra pushed forward, bringing down two of her sister's drones before reaching the other shore.
Behind them, her captain and the rest of her hunter drones lobbed volleys of blazing spells, splintering the trees in front and removing Majesta's cover. Spectra's sister was in retreat now, moving back through the tree line with her drones blocking off Spectra's drones. But they didn't stand a chance, now that they were running.
"I'm circling around to catch her," Spectra told Zorne, already building up magic in her stomach to transform. "Get rid of her drones and keep Majesta on her path."
She whistled to her drones. They followed the signal instantly, breaking off over the trees and transforming into various birds. Spectra chose a falcon's form, one of the fastest animals she knew, and cut a path on the side of the sun. Her shadow ran across the thin trees and muddy ground, gaining on Majesta quicker as she folded her wings and began to dive. A couple bursts of magic popped in the air, but Spectra had the sun behind her, and its blinding light would shield her.
Spectra had to transform at the last moment before she collided with Majesta. Bird bones had incredibly light bones, but they were also fragile. She took the form of a house cat, landing hard on her sister's face, clawing at her eyes.
Majesta shrieked and slammed them both into a tree. Spectra was thrown off, though she returned to her form and fired a volley of magic at her sister just before hitting the muddy ground. One shot hit Majesta hard, though it only grazed its way through her shoulder, nothing vital. She retaliated with glinting fangs, flying down and biting hard on Spectra.
"Get off!" Spectra yelled, kicking her sister in the face. Majesta didn't return the hit, instead, breaking off the fight and taking to the sky. She began to sprout feathers as she took the form of a pigeon, but Spectra was quick to knock her out of the air with a blast of magic. She tumbled back down to the ground in her own form but didn't stop running away.
Spectra growled and gave chase. Where did she think she was going? She was the one who attacked first, and now Spectra was going to make sure she faced the consequences.
She lurched forward as her hooves turned to rounded claws, legs stretching out as she turned into a massive chase-hound, the fastest hunting dogs in Riverfork. Spectra felt the rush of air through her tongue as she raced after Majesta in great bounds. The hound's sharp hearing caught the sound of her drones gaining behind her, pressing in on Majesta's path on both sides.
But before she could clamp her jaws around her sister, something bit Spectra in the leg and she tumbled into the mud. Her face buried itself in the soft ground, blocking out sight and sound. She could only hear the distant screeches of her drones, calling for her to get up quickly.
Another piercing pain shot through her leg, however, lodging itself deeply. Spectra scrambled up to see what had hit her, but when she stood up, a heavy stone thumped into her head. She fell over again. And while slumped on the ground, she looked to see what happened to both her rear legs.
Thick bolts made from sharpened tree branches had pierced through her calves, making it impossible to stand. They were tied at the ends to thin cords of rope, probably harvested from Marblestop before Majesta left the village.
"Die!" cried one of Spectra's drone, dropping from the sky in his own form and firing an arc of magic at Majesta. Seemingly out of nowhere, however, a spear flew out of the tall grass and punched through the drone's carapace. His body slumped over and hit the ground next to Spectra.
His death shocked the other hunter-drones so much they didn't have time to react to the volleys of stones that were hurled at them from the ground. It normally wouldn't have been a problem, but being caught so off guard, the drones had no time to transform back into Changelings. The stones grounded them, hitting their wings or their skulls, but either way, killing them before they could retaliate.
Through her muddy eyes, Spectra spotted the attackers in the tall grass, ponies lathered in mud, grass, and the faeces of local animals. Their scent, even at close range, was completely masked. To her hunter-drones, they must have thought they were being attacked by invisible enemies.
Spectra cried out when Majesta began pulling at the bolts in her legs. She was still a hound, howling out in hopes that Zorne and her captain could hear her. But every sound she made hurt more, Majesta beating her in the face if she even made a squeal. Spectra claws with the legs she still had, pushing Majesta off and scratching at her eyes.
"Another," her sister simply said, standing back. From a patch of tall grass a pony, armed with a rudimentary spear thrower, stood up. He had another sharpened branch levelled onto a long, carved piece of wood. Swinging it on his hoof like the arm of a catapult, he flung the bolt into Spectra's right shoulder.
She screamed as it dug in, splintering and rubbing its abrasive wood against Spectra's flesh. Ichor spurted out as her body forced itself back into her Changeling form, attempting to save itself with the magic she had left.
Majesta walked back up, now that she was pinned, and pressed her hoof down into her sister's face. "I didn't want to take pleasure in this," she said. "But thinking about the way you got caught by Halfwing, it makes me hate being your sister."
She wrapped the ropes around her leg and dragged Spectra through the mud, throwing her against the trunk of a fallen tree. "You're a disgrace to our hive, yet you somehow managed to crawl your way out of that mine. I might have been fine if it was Tenacity, at least she has some strengths. But you?"
Majesta clamped her hooves down on either side of Spectra's face, locking open her sister's jaw. "You're just the same as the mud I'm standing on." She flipped Spectra over and shovelled the mud into her mouth, pinning Spectra harder and harder the more she struggled to breathe, finally letting up when her convulsions grew too weak.
"Funny, the only reason we're here now is mother's gift to you." Majesta kicked Spectra out of the mud and stomped down on the bolt in her shoulder, wiggling it around until it broke through the other side. Spectra began screaming again.
"You're useless without Zorne," Majesta said, "but if he hadn't claimed that group of ponies for you, I wouldn't have found the soldiers hiding among their dead." She gestured to the ten stallions that surrounded them, all of them covered in mud and armed with sharpened sticks.
"One of them was surprisingly clever," Majesta said, pointing to a stallion in the middle of the group. "He suggested this ambush, said they'd fight if I let them go home."
Spectra turned her head to them. "Did you really believe her? You're all idiots." She forced the forced through her ragged breath, but the desperation in her voice did nothing to stir the ponies.
Majesta shrugged. "Maybe, but a chance at freedom is better than none. Besides, the stallion who planned it all, I don't think he likes you very much." She stepped away, letting the pony canter over to take a took for himself. Face-to-face, Spectra could finally detect his scent through the mud.
"Septarian?" she croaked.
He clenched his jaw. "Good. At least you'll know the pony who avenged Lady Changeling." He raised his spear and shoved it into Spectra's stomach, twisting it so that the uneven surface of the branch scraped apart her chitin carapace.
"I didn't-" Spectra gasped, her vision quickly fading to black from the pain. "Majesta brought the mountain down. She killed our sisters."
"Liar!" he shouted. "You showed up to our village. It was you they came for."
Spectra struggled to stay awake. The angrier Septarian got, the more of his emotions she could smell. Halfwing had imprinted a lot of feelings onto him, so much so that now he didn't even want freedom. There was no hope or desire in his magic, only a bloody thirst for revenge. Spectra had to wonder what Halfwing did to him to get so much loyalty.
"It was all Majesta," Spectra repeated faintly. "She told me about what Halfwing did, and asked us to join her in a war against our sister. She put me in your village as bait, to distract you. She was always going to kill her, Septarian. Majesta was always going to take away your closest love."
"Oh, for the sake of love, just kill her," Majesta shouted. "Zorne won't be long, and if he sees this, none of us is going to live much longer." The other soldiers murmured. They were eager to be free, but they weren't on the same death-quest as Septarian.
"I could have killed her outside in the camp," Spectra pleaded. "I was so close, I could have used all my magic in one killing blow, but I didn't. Halfwing's a rival, but she's still my sister. I still know what it means to lose her."
Majesta stormed up behind Septarian and shoved him aside. "Forget it, we don't have time. I can smell them already." She lowered her horn at Spectra's throat and reared up.
"No!"
Spectra fought to conceal a smirk. Septarian believed her. He believed, and now he was stabbing his spear into Majesta's back. She screamed for help, hissing to something in the distance. Confused, but faithful to their commander, the soldiers charged at Majesta instead, levelling their spears to the ground. But a flash of light came from the grass as Majesta's captain surfaced from a pit of mud.
His magic blasted through the other ponies, splitting them in half. Septarian turned around to rush the Changeling before the nest burst, but the captain simply knocked him aside with his horn and snatched up Majesta. Septarian picked up spear thrower and launched a bolt at the captain, but he effortlessly twisted through the air and flew out of range, heading straight to the Changeling hive.
"Where did that one come from?" Septarian asked himself, rushing over to his head soldiers.
Spectra would have laughed if she could. "Majesta would never have armed you if she wasn't absolutely certain she couldn't stop you from turning on her. Guess he wasn't quick enough though."
He grunted. "Did you mean what you said about Lad- I mean, Halfwing?"
From the path Spectra had chased Majesta, twin arcs of magic splattered mud over them. It was her captain and Zorne, leading the rest of the hunter-drones.
"Doesn't matter if I did, you'd better run for your life," Spectra said with relief. "If you make it back to Marblestop, you might find her. Majesta only destroyed the entrance, so Halfwing might still be alive inside the mountain."
He looked at her, and then the pack. Green blasts were already flying their way again, and seeing the spear in his hooves, her drones were likely to shoot first and ask questions second. Spectra smiled at him, a gesture that filled his magic with trust. Only she knew how entertaining he looked, holding onto the impossible hope that he'd make it back to his "lady" alive. If the gators didn't kill him, Spectra assumed he'd bury himself trying to "save" Halfwing.
The drones carried Spectra gingerly to the nearest nest, calling for the groundskeeper's aid. Now deeper south and reaching drier land, the prey had to be kept under a tight watch, and tighter rope. The nests in the wetlands didn't have high nest-rooms with deadly falls, the trees were thinner and shorter than northern pines. So, the drones were forced to tie up the ponies and keep an eye on them while Spectra healed.
"She needs magic," Zorne said to the groundskeeper.
"Not if you want a sac of ichor for a princess," he replied somberly. "Those weapons did a lot to her. If things aren't put back in place, her body won't know how to heal properly."
"Can you fix it?" asked Spectra's captain.
"I know what to do," he said, "but actually doing it is another thing. The spear opened up the nitrous tubes by her hindgut. It's probably leaked some acid into her body by now."
"We don't need a lesson on her body, just fix it," said Zorne.
While they were debating how to proceed, they heard a shout from one of their drones. Spectra's personal prey, Lunti, was screaming something to them.
"What now?" Zorne bellowed back to the drone. "Just kill her if you have to."
"But, she says the ponies might be able to help, sir," replied the drone.
Lunti stared nervously up at the nest above them, where Spectra was hanging onto her life. If she died, then their fates were sealed. More importantly, the hive would not distinguish between her and the other ponies.
"What do you think will happen if she dies?" she asked the chanters. "I know you're not just servants to the Spirits. Temples take in the sick and injured all the time."
"Even if we could," said Orange, "we wouldn't help the monster princess."
"Not even to make your lives better?" she asked back.
"We'll accept what comes."
Lunti didn't like it, but she needed Spectra. She was the only thing protecting her, from both the other drones and the other ponies. Without her, it wouldn't be long before they realized they could take revenge on her. Maybe she wouldn't be killed, but there'd be beatings and humiliation every single day for what she did to them.
"Hey!" Lunti shouted to one of the hunter-drones guarding them. "Let us see her, we might be helpful."
"What?" one of the chanters pounce on her. "We're not going to do anything!" He tied at the front and back legs, but still managed to pounce and pin her down.
The drone reacted, glaring a bright flash of magic into their eyes. "Hold still," he said, which was probably the extent of his free will. But Lunti was determined not to die. She scrambled off the floor of the nest-room and shouted up from the edge to the top.
"We can help you save her!" Lunti shouted. Immediately, one of the drones kicked her back into the other ponies, but when Zorne's voice responded, the drone answered accordingly.
The orange-robed chanter and Lunti were carried up to Spectra's nest-room. She was unconscious and slowly bleeding the clear, blood-like ichor of Changelings.
"She lied, I can't help," said Orange.
"Can't or won't?" asked Spectra's captain.
She smirked. "Do you honestly think I would know anything about your bodies? You need a surgeon, but I wouldn't even know where to begin."
"Our anatomy is a fusion between insect and mammalian structures," Zorne said, gesturing to the groundskeeper. "He will talk you through what needs to be done, just as long as you can do it."
"There's nothing I can without medical tools," she replied, glaring at Zorne. "There were plenty in the temples that you destroyed, however."
He nodded. "I'm well aware. We came across them when we were digging through the rubble to find your bodies." He produced a small bag that was lying on the other side of the nest-room. Inside were small, thin knives, magnifying lenses, copper pincers and tweezers, and a bolt of fine wire for stitches.
"Don't worry, we're not asking for a miracle, though if you had one, we wouldn't mind you sharing," the groundskeeper said. "She needs to be sutured in a few places before we can heal her with magic."
Orange stared at the bag of tools. "If I do this, we all go free." She looked at Lunti. "All of us."
Spectra's captain gawked at her proposal. "You expect us-"
"Deal," Zorne said. He leaned off the nest and clicked his throat at the drones.
"What was that?"
"I just ordered your elderly to be untied, and for the drones to let them walk away. The rest of you will be free once we have our princess in full health."
Spectra's captain stared at Zorne, surprised by his decision. It wasn't in their nature to compromise with their prey, much less free them when they were less than a day's march away from the hive. But, as the orange-robed pony began to examine Spectra's wounds, he couldn't deny the result was what they needed.
The groundskeeper first showed her the nitrous tubes that rested beside the stomach. Soaked in lymphatic fluids, it was the organ in many insects responsible for producing digestive acid from nitrous waste. He directed Orange to the lacerations that would not heal properly, showing exactly where they needed to be sutured to before Spectra could heal.
Then there were the bolts in her legs and shoulder. Like insects, Changelings had no bones to speak of, so once their outer skeleton was punctured, their inner organs were exposed. In the legs, the groundkeeper revealed thin channels that dealt with limb control. The channels filled with ichor to extend the legs, allowing all their muscles to focus on retracting.
Spectra's were cut and twisted in multiple directions. If she had healed herself with magic, her channels would not have connected themselves, and she would have lost the ability to move her legs.
The orange-robed pony gingerly brought the broken channels together, stitching them together just enough to hold them in place while she used tweezers to remove the other issue, the splinters from the wooden bolts. They were infected with the wetland's mud and filth and would have posed a serious problem in the future if the wound closed over them. Fortunately, the groundskeeper could help in that regard, using his magic to levitate the splinters that were impossible to reach with they pony's tools.
Once all the bolts were removed and Spectra's body was properly stitched together, the groundskeeper gave Zorne a nod.
"Don't move," he told Orange before flying down to the other ponies. She was shocked to hear the struggling voices of her chanters and the terrified screams from the younger ponies.
"We made a deal!" she shouted.
"Relax, he's not hurting them." The groundskeeper waved a hoof at her concern. "The princess can't take in magic if she's unconscious. But, transfusions are easy enough. Our ichor is universally compatible, quite unlike the different blood types you ponies have."
A minute later Zorne returned, and his body was almost radiating from the magic he had consumed so quickly. Without saying a word, he stuck out his foreleg and let the groundskeeper bite a small hole through his chitin. His horn glowed as he levitated one of the ichor channels from his leg.
At first, Lunti thought he was simply pulling it out. But it didn't stretch thinner as it got longer. Thanks to magic, the channel was growing faster than anything she had seen before. It reached out, almost as if it was searching for the other half of itself to reconnect to, finally coming to a rest at one of Spectra's ichor channels. It attached to one of the loosely stitched channels, engulfing the cut and inflating to double its thickness.
Lunti had to stare for a while to confirm what she was seeing. The ichor flowing between them was charged with so much magic it was glowing faintly on its own. Almost immediately, Spectra's body began to heal, driven by the natural instinct of all flesh to recover itself. The channels sealed up first, followed by the surrounding muscle fibres, and then the delicate nitrous tubes beside her stomach. The sound was similar to meat cooked on a pan, sizzling as the magic purged her ichor of infections. For all their terrible faults, Lunti could not deny that the Changelings were miraculous creatures.
Her chitin was the last thing to grow back, and it did so much slower than the rest of her body as the magic between Spectra and Zorne quickly began to fade. With one swift bite, the groundskeeper cut off the tube where it had connected, allowing her leg to fully close up. Zorne did the same, removing the extra section of his ichor channel that he had grown out before charging his own leg up with magic to heal the cut.
"Is it done?" asked Orange.
"She'll wake in a few hours, probably," said the groundskeeper. "There's still minor damage that her body needs to heal on its own."
"That's not my problem," she replied. "Are we free to go now?" The groundskeeper looked curiously at Zorne, who seemed to mull over the thought of actually staying true to his word.
"Did you ever really expect me to let you all go?" he asked her.
"I had some hope," she replied.
"I know. It smelled delicious."
Orange clenched her jaw and flashed a look at Lunti. "Are you happy now? I'm a traitor to Equestria now because of you."
"Lively one, aren't you?" The groundskeeper carefully, but forcefully, lifted the orange-robed chanter up with his magic. "But just take it easy. You'll find a cosy place in the hive. Maybe marry one of the other cave-dwelling ponies, raise a family in complete darkness with no hope of ever seeing the sun; it'll be fun, trust me."
She struggled against the sudden loss of control, squirming in the air as the groundskeeper brought her back down to the other prey. "I should have let her die!" she shouted at Lunti. She screamed louder, but her voice quickly softened as the groundskeeper cast a spell to dampen her sound.
"Send one of the drones to gather up the old ponies," Zorne clicked to one of the drones hovering by them. "They probably haven't gotten far."
He then looked over to Lunti, who was frozen still and staring at Spectra. "How did you know she'd be able to close up the wounds?"
"Temples take in the sick and injured all the time," she replied absentmindedly. "Thought you'd know that, considering how much time you've spent among us."
"But they could have just been regular singers," said Spectra's captain.
Lunti shook her head. "They were all slaves, weren't they? Slaves in Marblestop have, or had, the hardest jobs."
The two Changelings traded glances. Despite all their time among ponies, Zorne especially, they were still reluctant to seek anything from ponies that wasn't food. It was simply their nature; wolves did not approach sheep pens hoping to borrow wool.
Which begged the question, why did the princesses use the ponies so easily? Zorne shoved the question to the back of his mind. There was still the question of what to do with Lunti. If she rejoined the others, there was no doubt there'd be trouble, even fighting. He scrutinized her. She stood passively around Spectra, staring only out of shock at everything she had just watched, like a dead animal being brought back to life.
"Well then!" bellowed the groundskeeper, flying back up to the nest-room. His deep, hollow voice scared a squeal out from Lunti.
"Oh, sorry there. Should've guessed you'd be shaken after seeing that, but don't worry, I won't stick you back down there with them." He patted Lunti on the back.
She looked at him, confused. "Did you just say 'sorry?'"
"Yeah, isn't that what polite ponies say?" He looked at Spectra's captain. "They do still say that, don't they?"
"Yes," he replied bluntly.
"We do," Lunti said, "but we just don't hear it from Changelings very often."
The groundskeeper laughed, another sound Lunti didn't think she would ever hear. "True, but we don't show ourselves very often." He checked the sun, which had dipped far past its peak by now. "Hey, are you hungry?"
Lunti chewed on a tough piece of a salt lick that the groundskeeper was apparently responsible for maintaining, both for ponies and for Changelings. She followed behind Spectra's captain, who had to carry an exhausted Spectra while she regained the energy to move on her own.
Behind them, Zorne and his pack kept the ponies in marching order, forcing even the elderly to march along faster than they should have been able to. Lunti could feel all of them staring daggers at her back, but she didn't really care. It was the first time since she had been captured that she ate something that wasn't berries or cave-grown mushrooms.
The sun had just risen above the horizon, cutting through the thick morning fog. They had to stay the night at the nest, of course. Even with her injuries healed, Spectra's body was still weak and tender, barely prepared to make the last day of marching back to the hive.
Lunti was amazed at how quickly everything had changed. Less than a month ago she was still in Riverfork, enjoying her life by taking advantage of her friend Reiter. Then, it took only a few days after being captured to return to the river, though far to the west from her village.
Even if she had to live in the hive again, Lunti hoped things would stop changing for a while.
"Having second thoughts?" Spectra said to her from Zorne's back.
"What?"
"About getting that chanter from Marblestop to heal me, you're having second thoughts, aren't you?"
Lunti sat on that question for a while, but Spectra already seemed content with her answer. The scent of her magic, probably, revealed her true feelings, even if she didn't fully understand them herself. She wanted freedom from Spectra, of course, but being with ponies who wanted her dead changed the context, and made her value the Changelings' protection. So, did that mean she was on their side?
She shook her head clear. "For my sake, you need to live."
"And in the process, you think you'll get special treatment," Spectra smirked. "Is that right?"
"No use hiding it. You've always been right about me. I used Reiter for my own gain, just like I'm using the other ponies to hold myself up. I always have, even with my own father."
"And that makes you happy?" Spectra looked at her.
Lunti shrugged. "It makes me think clearly."
The rest of the march was relatively uneventful. A filly and an elderly stallion were both killed by separate snake bites after they entered they entered the jungle, but the loss simply sped up the frightened ponies. Though the salt lick the groundskeeper had given her didn't last long, the minerals inside it seemed to perk Lunti up, making her more attentive and aware of everything.
Far away from any pony activity, the jungle was filled with exotic wildlife that she didn't appreciate when they passed it the first time. She tried counting the species of birds she saw, losing track very quickly. There were large green and blue ones as tall as her that stalked the ground rather than flying. Others were adorned with creative patterns along their tailfeathers, creating beautiful dances for potential mates.
The trees, with their broad leaves, glowed bright green as the sun beat down. The leaves provided shade to everything below on the jungle floor, thankfully. Lunti didn't want to think about the sunburn she'd get from a day under the burning sun. This far south, it didn't matter if it was winter or not.
A wide stream ran the length of the path to the hive, spewing its water down into the mouth of the cave that led to the hive. There was a stark beauty to cavern so massive, it allowed trees and vines to reach in and grow within it. Even the air was filled with a cloudy mist from the water, humidifying the cavern while giving it cloud-like fog.
"This is it?" one of the chanters gawked as they came to it. Based on the sky, the sun had just begun to set, but among the thick jungle trees and mountainous area, the cavern to the hive looked much darker.
Lunti stared at the view, taking in her last vision of the surface. Whatever the next step was in her life, she would take it with this image in her mind, a little scrap of hope that she'd one day return.
Spectra rolled off the back of Zorne and stood on her own. Lunti expected her to begin ordering the ponies around, but to her surprise, she and all the other Changelings stood stiff like soldiers awaiting inspection. In a few seconds, the echoed buzzing of wings from the bottom of the cavern told Lunti why.
The Changeling that emerged from the cavern was massive, easily twice her height. On either side, she was accompanied by massive drones. They stood a head shorter than their leader, but they still towered over Lunti and every pony else.
Zorne and Spectra's captain began to bow their heads first, signalling to the other Changelings to do the same. Only Spectra stood upright, though the tenseness in her limbs told Lunti that she wasn't in much more control than her drones.
"I wondered when you'd return," said the massive Changeling. "Majesta was convinced you'd be dead from your injuries."
"Sorry to disappoint you, mother," Spectra said, not trying hard to conceal some bitterness in her voice. Then again, it would have been useless to try.
"Quite the opposite," she said. "Majesta may have succeeded much more with a weaker pack, but you haven't been shying away from the action, have you?"
This was their mother? Lunti's eyes bulged at the behemoth before her. It was no wonder Spectra was so eager to prove herself as a leader among her kind. She had a large role to fill, in every sense of the phrase.
"Confronting the ponies directly," she continued, "getting captured to find Halfwing, then waiting for your sisters to free you."
"That last part-" Spectra started.
"Don't bother," her mother rolled her eyes. "I ordered Majesta's drones to tell me everything. It may have been foolish, but I can't say it wasn't clever. You escaped without having to lift a hoof."
Lunti noticed that Spectra's expression changed into something looking like relief. "And what do we have here?" She whirled around to see the mother staring into her face. "You seem different from when you first came to the hive."
Lunti leaned back, falling to her rear.
"Haha, good," the mother laughed, her voice echoing like she spoke through a hollow tube. "Fear means your emotions are still healthy and fresh."
She turned to Zorne. "What do you think, captain? How did my daughter perform?"
Zorne glanced at Spectra, thinking it over. He raised his head and approached the Queen with a determined look. "There's a lot I have to say about this hunt, Queen Chrysalis. The ponies have developed new weapons against us, but in the face of those obstacles, I believe she did as well as any Changeling could have."
The Queen nodded. "Majesta's captain said something of the barrier. You dealt with it?" Zorne nodded.
"Very well. You and your pack have an hour to resupply your magic, then meet me in my chambers. We'll have to talk about dealing with this threat."
"The Pens?" Zorne asked.
"Of course," she replied. "It's about time Spectra learned about it anyway."
"Learned what?"
"Where the hive stores its other prey of course," the Queen told her. "A special place for the ponies you don't pick for your personal larder."
The tunnel snakes were designed for narrow spaces. Countless generations of growth made them specialized tunnel crawlers. But under the weight of the collapsed tunnel, Carrier could barely think. The space between the fallen stone and the earth was breathtaking in the worst way possible, hot as the flat, leathery scales of his snake form rubbed against the stone's rough surface.
He didn't even know if he was going the right way. Twice already he found himself hitting the walls of the tunnel trying to find the next available path. Multiple more times, he was forced to backtrack because the path he had chosen closed itself off.
At the very least, he could smell the trail he left behind, knowing where he had been and what was a possible new path. Even though the tunnel snake's eyes were designed to see in near-complete darkness, it was difficult to tell the gaps in the rocks apart as Carrier tried more and more.
If it wasn't so tight, he would have hissed has his luck. A sharp fragment of rock had lodged itself in the only gap wide enough for his body to fit through. There was still room to try, but just by feeling it, he knew he'd split himself in half if he did.
Slowly, Carrier wiggled the tail of his snake form. Unlike most of its relative species, the tunnel snake's scales were thin and flattened tightly to their body, so that even though they grew backwards, they couldn't hook and snag onto rocks when they slithered backwards.
That said, it still wasn't easy. He wiggled left, then right, then left, then right, for what must have been twenty or thirty minutes before he felt the open space he had come from. It was much smaller than the gap Halfwing was waiting in, but it was just big enough for Carrier to curl up and move freely around. Once his tail was free the rest of his body was able to slip out.
Carrier rolled off the rocks and lay down on the ground to catch his breath, only just realizing how suffocated he was. The slow and subtle agony was enough to make him give up if he wasn't driven by the only purpose in his life, to serve his princess. He stretched his head up and tested the air, feeling for another draft. A little higher up was yet another path he hadn't taken. He hoisted himself up the rocks skillfully with his form's muscles and thrust himself into another gap again.
At the point where the tunnel split to another section of the mine, the stone finally began to clear itself up. There the supports were stronger, and it collapsed in a way that left an enormous section of rock holding up the ceiling.
Carrier slithered out and inspected the tunnels. His snake eyes, sensitive to even the slightest change of light, could finally begin to see. The exit was still far away, but a thin ray of dim light sneaked its way through the top of the fallen rocks. That meant it was there was a straight path out, as long as it was wide enough for him to move through it.
But there was something else, too. With the snake's heat sinks, specialized organs at the tip of the nose, he smelled the body heat of a mammal. A pony for sure. But for the size of the stallion, he was really cold.
He took the path that split from the main exit, moving easily through the wide passage, since the tunnel was better reinforced. It may have been narrow to the miners that used it, but its small size meant that the support beams had to work less to help hold up the tunnel.
Once he got closer, Carrier realized there were more sources of heat. It was a pack, no a herd, of eight ponies. Around them were countless more bodies, covered in blankets as a temporary way to lay them to rest. But eight was enough.
He took the chance and turned himself back to his own form. The sudden burst of his remaining magic panicked the ponies. Grown stallions, all of them, they screamed like the children of the slave masters that the princess locked away somewhere in the mine.
"You, just stay back," said the only healthy stallion among them. "We can't trust you."
"Lady Changeling needs your help," he said calmly. "She's still alive, and she can help you rebuild."
"How can we be sure you're not one of the bad ones?"
Carrier sniffed the air and listened. "Some pony's heart rate is irregular. They've taken force to the chest and their heart muscles are traumatized. Another one has blood pooling in their lower chest cavity, based on the smell and sound of their breath. The rest aren't much better, so you don't have much of a choice."
The stallion frowned, it wasn't the answer he was looking for. But, it was the best he was going to get. "Alright, what do you need us to do?"
"Nothing," replied Carrier, "just let me eat the magic from your dying. I'll be able to get every pony out of here afterwards."
"Why just the dying? Wouldn't our less injured-"
"The amount of magic I'm going to take will weaken them, and even the ones without mortal injuries won't be able to survive the process. But I need some of you alive to help clear the rubble, so we might as well kill off the dying."
The stallion gawked at him. "You have to be joking."
"Lady Changeling is deeper in the tunnel," he continued. "With magic, we can save her. I'll be able to levitate rocks into place to support the tunnel once we start clearing out the blockage."
"So you want us to choose who gets to live and die?"
Carrier snarled. "I don't care who makes the sacrifice. My only focus is to save my princess."
"I'll do it," said one of the other ponies who was clutching his stomach. "I'm dead anyway, one of those manticores tore deep into my gut. Even with pressure, I can still feel it bleeding."
"If it means every pony else gets to leave this damned place," grunted another, "then I'm ready to see the Spirits."
Another two volunteered, the ones Carrier had already sensed were on the brink of death. They all agreed that for their comrades to survive, they were willing to give up all their magic.
Carrier nodded and walked past the stallion, who was still shocked that his fellow soldiers were ready to give themselves up. But hesitant or not, he was just another soldier pony who happened to escape injury during the fight. Carrier didn't need his permission to begin replenishing his magic.
Fresh air. The breeze in the open sky was magnificent in the winter. It bit the surface of her carapace just enough to sharpen her wits and alert her to every scent and sound of the surface world.
Tenacity couldn't wait to feel it again.
She dragged a massive slab of stone behind her and shoved it under the gap that her drones were holding up with their backs. She lodged it against the wall of the tunnel like a triangle, pushing it deeper against the crumbling rocks until it reached the next open space.
Her fight with Halfwing decimated the landscape of the cavern of crystals. On one hoof, it was partly why the tunnel was so unstable in the first place. The shockwaves from the explosive crystals caught by stray magic were enough to send cracks through the mountain. But the damage also left behind countless fragments of stone big enough, and strong enough, to hold open passages through the blockage.
"How much longer do we have to go?" Tenacity asked her lieutenant.
"I can't say for sure," she replied, "but I think we're approaching the point where we rescued Spectra."
Tenacity nodded. She and both her sisters brought two packs with them as their army. Now both her captains were dead, leaving one last lieutenant, now technically the captain, and three other hunter-drones.
"Lieu," Tenacity said, the name she decided to call her new captain. "I'm going back to bring the next piece of stone."
"We'll continue on and see if we can make another gap," she answered.
Tenacity nodded and limped back, crawling through the half dozen other gaps they had opened up. Her injuries from Halfwing had barely healed, and scraping her chitin against the stone only made it worse. But complaining was not a luxury she had at the moment. If she managed to ply her way through the tunnel, then she could see about getting proper treatment.
"Are you sure that piece is going to hold?" asked the healthy stallion as he pulled a cracked rock out from the entrance. The faint rays of sunlight were now finally widening, but as he pulled more away, other stones threatened to fill the gap.
Carrier levitated two heavy, brick-shaped stones on either side of the gap that he was digging up. They were taking from the top of the blockage, limiting the risk of all the stones crashing down on them, but the mountain above them was still unstable. Large sections of rocks were held up by what had collapsed below, and Carrier at to be certain that every stone he placed was in a key position to hold their share of the weight.
"I'll tell you when I'm not sure," he said. "We're almost there, so keep digging."
The other injured ponies, the ones whose injuries weren't about to kill them, helped by moving the rubble away, pushing it to the back of their offshoot of the mine. Occasionally, Carrier would keep a piece of stone if it was large and regular enough be used to support the rest of the mountain pressing down on them.
"Oh Spirits!" the stallion shouted, recoiling from a rock he had pulled away. He tumbled down, luckily taking the force of his fall on his muscular shoulders and back.
Carrier immediately recognized the smell that had been released. He thought it was just his own stress and adrenaline, but there was no doubt that the crumbled black forms trapped under the rocks were Changelings. He counted two horns protruding from the rock, two hunter-drones from Spectra or Majesta's packs.
"Sorry brothers," he said. There was no love lost between hunter-drones, but they didn't necessarily hate each other either. Every drone had their role to play in the hive, and none of them could be blamed for what they were ordered to do.
"Sorry," said the stallion. "I think I removed a piece of his face when I panicked." He lifted up a stone with a smeared black spot on its bottom.
Carrier didn't mind. Changelings didn't have burial rights for their dead, unlike ponies. But, he could smell the reluctance in the pony. His blood was flushed with adrenaline from the scare, and his skin filled with blood as his heart raced to pump his body with energy.
"They should be treated with respect," he lied. "Take a break, I'll handle their bodies."
The stallion exhaled, his muscles relaxing as a calmer aura washed over his magic. "Alright. I think I'll sit down over there. Just, uh, call me over when you're ready."
Halfwing knocked her head against tunnel when she heard crumbling. She had fallen asleep, but for how long, she didn't know. Long enough for her drones to feel fatigued, that was for sure. Without magic, it was a matter of time before they began to feel lethargic. Already they were taking shifts to guard her, as one hunter-drone slept, the other kept watch.
Halfwing coughed. The air was beginning to thin now. There was definitely air trailing into the mine from outside, she could feel the faintest draft through the cracks in the rocks, but it wasn't nearly enough.
She pressed her head against the tunnel, listening for sounds on the other side of the wall. Through the stone, her sensitive ears picked up some rumblings. The sound got louder until finally a rock on her side of the blockage shifted and fell to the ground.
"Good work," she whispered, rising to see if there was anything she could do from their side.
Her drone stood alert, his boredom replaced by duty. "I think I hear something coming from behind us too, princess."
Halfwing nodded. Tenacity was behind them, but she had yet to affect the rocks on their side of the tunnel. As long as Carrier kept his pace, they would escape before her.
Tenacity and her lieutenant pushed hard with a slab of stone into the space they had cleared. There was still a thick layer of rocks ahead, but removing them without some support was impossible. One of her drones squeezed through the gap and kicked at the rocks, trying to shake up some on the opposite side and loosen the ones on theirs.
He suddenly stopped and crawled back out. "I can hear voices on the other side of the wall, princess."
"Voices?" Tenacity lowered her head and listened. They were muffled, but the sounds behind the rocks were too complex to be simple echoes. The rhythmic clicks and clacks and hisses were Changeling voices, no doubt. It had to be Halfwing.
"She must be stuck," Tenacity said, a grin flashing across her face. But the shoulder-high ceiling of the tunnel that forced her to crouch down reminded her of what she needed to do, and who she had to focus her hatred on. She had been emotional enough to trust that her closest sister, Spectra, would stand by her side like they did when they were hatchlings. Meanwhile, Majesta had manipulated her bloodlust against Halfwing and allowed her to go into the mines.
Tenacity thought before that her bigger sister was just humouring her desire, but now she wanted to slap herself in the face for letting Majesta control her so easily. But getting revenge on Majesta meant working with Halfwing to escape. Considering the state they were in, giving up on tormenting her sister was something she was willing to do.
"Get me through, now," she ordered her drones as she leaned against the stone to prop up the collapsing rocks above.
The seriousness of her tone drove her drones to put all their effort in. One after the other, they slipped into the gap and cleared as much stone as they could before coming out to rest and let another drone take over. They grabbed and pulled on their side, and once they felt a draft of air funnel through a small crack between the rocks, they began kicking violently at what was left.
Tenacity lost her footing when the blockage blew apart and the piece of stone they were using to hold up the boulders above them scratched against the tunnel walls as it slid into place.
Her drones were quick to file out, confronting the next section to make sure it was safe, but Tenacity was too eager to wait. She knew if she wanted to make her sister reconcile, she'd couldn't let her drones come off as too aggressive. She went through, followed by her lieutenant, and confronted Halfwing's gaze immediately.
Instincts told her to fight. Tenacity, more so than her other sisters she believed, had an ingrained taste for violence. But they were not in a position to be fighting among themselves, a flaw both she and her sister had that Majesta took advantage of.
"Hey, sister," Tenacity said, cautiously. "Glad to see you're alive."
Halfwing's aura burned with rage the moment their eyes lined up. It wasn't the same as before. When she had her whole pack, and her ponies, her emotions were fierce but in control. She had believed she was the stronger one. But now, her hatred was covered in desperate fear, a sense of loss that left her completely vulnerable.
"Glad?"
She stepped toward Tenacity.
"Is it because you still have more drones than me? You think now is the time you'll finally kill your sister?"
Tenacity swallowed her instincts, her old dream-memories as a hatchling still screaming to defend herself were suppressed. "This isn't the time to fight. That's how the others put us here in the first place."
She stopped, a leg's reach away from Tenacity. Their drones were pressed to the walls of the tunnel to make space in the tight gap. There was no room for any of their hunter-drones to get in the way.
Tenacity watched her sister carefully. Her scent ricocheted between anger and confusion. Her hooves quivered as they desperately tried to figure out what they were supposed to do.
Tenacity was prepared for the worst, but when Halfwing slammed them both to the ground, the impact still shocked her. Their drones flinched, but neither packs moved to intervene. They could read the scent of the tunnel too and understood that this was a matter between sisters. Their main concern, as Carrier tunnelled through the blockage ahead, was the mine caving down on them.
"You ruined my life," Halfwing growled through gritted fangs. "You stole my wing, why? We were free once we came out of that place so didn't need to do it."
"What else could I do?" Tenacity struggled. "Mother put us in there to fight."
"But she didn't ask you to bully me, to take all the hunting spots at the bottom of the hive, knowing I couldn't get to the higher ledges." Halfwing grew louder, throwing her sharpened words in Tenacity's face. "She didn't ask you to taunt me or treat me like a piece of waste, you did that. It was you. All you."
Changelings couldn't cry, they had no tear ducts to do so, but Tenacity could tell her sister was already there. Her words became shaky as she thrashed around.
"I hate you!"
She bit Halfwing, but they were both exhausted from being trapped in the mine for hours. Her attacks were sluggish, not even able to puncture chitin.
"We have to get out," Tenacity said, pushing Halfwing off. "You have a drone on the other side, don't you? Once we're out, where do you think you're going to go? Majesta and Spectra won't let us back into the hive."
She didn't listen. Halfwing pushed Tenacity against the wall. Her drones stepped aside, squeezing up next to Tenacity's lieutenant and watching.
"Why couldn't you just die?" she wailed, voice turning softer as the tunnel air grew thin. "Mother never believed in me because of what you did. I never belonged in that place."
Tenacity wrapped her forelegs around Halfwing, hugging her. "I get it. I wanted to kill you too. I thought, when we were born together, that you killing me was your purpose."
"I couldn't breathe because your egg sac was pressed against my face when I hatched," Halfwing recalled. Their memories were crystal clear of that encounter, and it surprised her. Spectra didn't seem to think much about what happened in their birthing pit, her memories were already faded. But Tenacity seemed to recall every moment, just like Halfwing did.
"Mother really is a horrible creature," Tenacity said, still holding her sister.
"I'm going to kill her," replied Halfwing, agreeing.
"Well one of us has to, if we want to be the Queen."
The hunter-drones fluttered. Despite their loyalty to their princesses, Queen Chrysalis was still the ultimate authority of the hive. They knew that the Queen would have to die for a princess to take her place, but talk about it still made them uneasy.
Smaller rocks began to roll off their side of the blockage as Carrier began breaking through from the outside. "Princess?" he called. "Hang in there, I found some ponies that were still trapped in the mine, we're almost through now."
"Well, seems like you still have your, um-" Tenacity hesitated for a moment, thinking of a word to use, "-pony hive."
A breath of fresh air finally flooded into the tunnel when a large boulder was pulled out of the blockage. The faint light ahead was a clear sign that they had already opened up the mouth of the mine, leaving just this last barrier between them and freedom.
Spectra followed her mother through the cavernous belly of the hive. The central chamber where she had spent the first months of her life was teeming with worker-drones digging away at the walls, carving new tunnels into the solid stone. Their methods were a stark contrast with what Spectra had seen on the surface.
Slime dribbled from the jaws of worker-drones, acidic, based on their scent, that they plastered along the cavern to eat away at the stone until it was weak enough to break down. Noxious fumes from dissolving limestone were soaked up by lanterns of blue glowing mushrooms. The small fungi seemed to thrive on what would kill most living creatures.
But while the fungal lights were more than enough for Spectra's eyes, the ponies stumbled and fell the entire journey. Even Lunti, who had been in the hive before, was completely lost in the dark, and had to cling to Spectra's side for guidance.
"The Chrysalis before me built the pen from her own private stock of ponies before I killed her," explained the Queen as they ascended a passageway. Though it went up, it also burrowed deeper into the core of the mountain that sat above the hive. Not even fungal patches reached the walls of the tunnel.
"Before then, we fed our drones from our personal stores," she continued. "It was easier when the hive was manageable, but impossible once my succession promoted the hive's growth."
"I've never seen anything coming down this way," Spectra said, noticing the clean edges of the passage. No stalactites or stalagmites got in the way. It was certainly a drone-carved tunnel. "How do you keep the ponies alive?"
"It's not like any other cavern in the hive," the Queen answered. "Besides, you've been away for months, and when you returned, you barely stayed before you went on your hunt for your sister. You haven't seen half of the hive I've built for our kind, daughter."
Spectra stared ahead at that thought. Was she saying that literally? Spectra thought she had seen most of the hive before she left for her hunt. Every crack and cranny, she scoured them for rats and lizards to feed her growing body. How could there be so much more?
There were six guard-drones standing by the entrance to the Pen. They made Spectra uneasy, the drones. All living things had magic in them and it was that magic that was affected by emotions. But the guard-drones had almost no scent at all. Their mindlessness wasn't the same as a hunter-drone's duty, that Spectra could smell. The aura radiating from the six guard-drones was featurelessly flat, as plain as the taste and scent of water.
But they reacted instantly to the Queen's presence. Four stepped aside to widen the path while the two guard-drones by the entrance began levitating the stone door sideways. The heavy iron gate, stolen from ponies from the far north Spectra guessed from the designs, turned inward screechingly.
The short tunnel that led straight ahead was vastly different from anything else in the hive. I was wet, not with acid, but with cool water. Moss and glowing fungi grew in great abundance as the tunnel widened to a yellow and orange-lighted cavern. The entrance to the Pen was high up in the cavern walls, leading down with a path cut from the earth's stone.
The light was dim compared to the sun, but it was no doubt sufficient for the ponies to see. From the entrance, Spectra could easily see the top of the cavern and the source of the light, a fast-rotating crystal the size of a hunter-drone's egg sac. It radiated orange and yellow like a sunset, bathing the underground ecosystem with warmth.
She looked down to the cavern floor, where some two hundred ponies must have been living. The Pen, she realized, was over four times the size of the hive's main chamber, twice the size of the cave at the mouth of the hive. Two wide but shallow streams cut across the floor, the source of the cavern's cooling. Combined with the crystal's warmth, an enchantment no doubt made by ponies from the far north, the Pen maintained a temperate climate compared to the rest of the hive.
The floor began to show itself as another marvel of life. Lichens, glowing and plain, carpeted the cavern's floor. Small bushes of berries cropped up from patches of moist dirt, while four ponies tended to a single mango tree in the centre of the cavern.
There were tents scatters wherever plants did not grow, some made from the bones of long-dead ponies, others made from materials stolen from the surface, like iron, wood, and wool. The ponies that lived in them saw the Changelings arriving. Many ran for the tents or some rock to hide behind, but most of them greeted the Queen with their heads bowed low.
"This is worse than I ever imagined," gasped the orange-clad chanter.
"Better than a dark cave," Lunti remarked, still gazing up at the sun-crystal.
"They're farming us like crops."
The Queen chuckled. "Yes, we are. It's one of the perks of being Equestria's top predator."
The ponies that bowed grovelled and whimpered, and when the Queen finally waved her hoof to let them stand, they gaze up to her and began croaking.
It was a disgusting sound, raspy cutting of the throat interwoven with clicks and clacks from their tongues and teeth. Their wide eyes stared while a young stallion, wrapped in a thin garment of moss and fungi, stood up to walk among his kind. The rest retreated, clicking their tongues in a rhythm.
"What did you do to them?" hissed Orange, but Spectra's captain shoved his hoof in her mouth before she could interrupt.
The Queen ignored her and continue to look over the young stallion. She levitated him up to her eye level and opened her jaw so far, Spectra could hear the pop of the chitin plates of her exoskeleton as they stretched out of place. As easily and quickly as taking a breath, the Queen drew on the pony's magic.
Spectra could smell the rush of adrenaline through the pony's veins as his body realized it was dying. But he slumped down, going completely limp within the Queen's levitation grip. Most the ponies who had greeted them clicked their tongues in unison, raising their heads up in smiles. Only two mares, one young and one old, sat silently in the back of the herd.
"Leave as many of your prey here, Spectra," the Queen said, dropping the dead pony at her hooves. "And Zorne, you're relieved of your duties to my daughter. Feed your pack and then be in my chambers in an hour."
"Of course, your highness," he bowed, and then looked to Spectra. "I wish you the best of luck, princess." He hissed to his pack, and they dispersed themselves throughout the cavern, hovering above the ponies and looking at them like the way a Riverfork merchant looks at produce. The few who ran from the Queen ran from them too, but the others didn't even seem to notice, simply returning to their daily lives.
"Are these all the ponies that feed the hive?" Spectra said.
"Not at all," the Queen replied. "Most drones don't even come here. They usually feed during their hunts on the surface. All these ponies here are simply reserves for young drones and packs that need to recover between hunts."
"Some of these ponies," Spectra mumbled, "they don't seem right. What's wrong with them?"
"Majesta really is better than you," her mother chuckled. "She figured it out right away. Most of the ponies here, they were born in the hive. Some of them have never seen the sun for generations."
The chanters from Marblestop broke out into a struggle against Spectra's drones, pushing and pulling to shake themselves free.
"The Spirits won't stand for this!" one of them screamed. "Every town and village its protectors. You're all evil, and divine punishment will come for you, monsters!"
The Queen sighed. "If you have questions ask me tomorrow. I'll be teaching you the next step to leading the hive, a lesson both and Majesta have to learn now that you've shown that you're better than the other two."
"Lesson? What lesson?" Spectra asked.
"Tomorrow, my daughter, and only then." She opened her wings and flew up the side of the cave, turning out through the way they had come.
Spectra's captain, still dragging the orange-robed chanter, walked up next to her. "Princess, how many should we leave?"
Spectra looked at the ponies they had pulled from Marblestop. Most were hard to manage, children or elderly. The able-bodied, the chanters, were pathetically subdued in painful, levitated joint locks by her hunter-drones. She realized why the Pen was necessary. Even this small group outnumbered her pack nearly two to one.
If the majority weren't panicked younglings or senile old ponies, controlling them without killing them would have been impossible. Spectra couldn't manage all of them yet; it would have simply been too much effort to subdue all of them every time she went into her larder to feed.
"All of them," she said, looking at Orange. "Except her. Lunti can introduce her to the other stallion we have kept in my pantry."
Spectra and her captain passed the silent guard-drone standing by the entrance to her own cavern. He held the door open as they entered, and closed it behind them, leaving it unlocked in case they needed to leave quickly.
"Chevron, I'm home," Spectra called out.
Her captain dragged the struggling orange-robed pony over to a few ropes wrapped around a rock.
"No, it's fine, captain," she said. "Go back to the pen and eat your fill. She won't cause any trouble for me, she's too smart for that."
"Are you certain?" he asked to confirm her command.
"Yes. Now go."
Her captain nodded and threw Orange onto a matted layer of glowing mushrooms growing on the cavern floor. He eyed her as he knocked on the door and walked out, still staring back as the guard-drone closed it up again.
Immediately, the orange one galloped at Spectra. Before she could reach her, however, she was lifted up into the air and tossed back down into a patch of glowing fungi.
"Come on, is this how you want to meet your new roommate?" Spectra looked around. "Lunti, do you see Chevron?"
"I can't really see anything in here," she replied, sitting down with her back to the wall.
"Of course." Even with glowing fungi covering the cavern floor, her pantry cavern paled in quality compared to the Pen. It was a new cavern, of course, so its amenities were expected to be low, but at least it helped restrained the orange mare.
She fumbled in the darkness, reaching her hooves out to feel what she couldn't see clearly. But, for the moment, Spectra didn't care. She walked over the far back side of the cavern where she had spotted a curled up, dishevelled mess. Chevron, a wealthy council member from Riverfork who had the village's policies under his control, had thinned incredibly. His mane and beard were long and uncombed, filled with small insects and scraps of fungi.
"That can't be him," Lunti said as she crawled over to see for herself. "Chevron?"
"Good thing you stopped seducing him back in Riverfork, eh?" Spectra mocked Lunti. On her first hunt, she had found Lunti's letter to Chevron, refusing to continue whatever secret relationship they kept. "Hardly an impressive specimen now, isn't he?"
Lunti didn't say anything.
Spectra knelt down and shook him around. He had only been in here since Spectra left to kill Halfwing, just more than a week ago, but he had already begun to change. Lunti couldn't see it, but his mouth had cuts and sores all over it from eating the wrong mushrooms that grew in the cave. Spectra never had to eat them herself, so she couldn't know which ones they were. He must have eaten them out of desperation when the hive didn't treat him well.
Technically, he was still alive, so the drones did their job, but caring was not something Changelings excelled at, so Spectra really couldn't complain about the result.
"Wake up, you old bastard." She lifted him up with her forelegs and slammed his shoulderblade into a rough protrusion of stone on the cavern's wall.
"Argh!" The pain jolted Chevron awake, screaming. His pupils darted around, trying to figure out what had happened. "You're back? Oh, gods, you're finally back!" There the grown stallion started to weep, collapsing himself onto Spectra.
She stepped away and let Chevron fall back to the ground. "What's the matter with you?"
"I don't want-" he mumbled, "I don't want to live like this. Please, there's nothing in here!"
Spectra reached down and forced open his jaw as he screamed. His tongue had numerous small cuts on its surface that she didn't see before, wide scrapes that were probably caused by licking the moisture from the walls of the cavern.
"Should've guessed the worker-drones wouldn't take good care of you," she replied. "Though this is even beyond my imagination."
Chevron didn't hear her, simply laying himself out on the ground and weeping. Spectra sighed, and then pulled him up to meet her face. She wrapped her mouth around him, draining his magic the same way the Queen had, only stopping when she felt she was tapping into Chevron's core life magic. She let go and watched his body hit the ground, the shock of the drain leaving him unconscious.
"Did you..."
"No," Spectra turned to Lunti. "I'm not letting any of you go so easily. But, he should stay asleep for a while now. Hopefully, that'll end his suffering until I have my pack bring some surface goods in here."
Spectra moved closer to Lunti. "But you don't have to worry, I won't leave you in that weak of a state," she grinned. "The orange would probably kill you if I did."
"You're still going to feed on me?" Lunti squealed and stumbled back. "But you just had Chevron's magic."
Spectra smacked her lips. "And he tasted like cheap, under-ripened cheese. I'm not satisfied yet."
Lunti quivered, then looked over to where Orange watched. This was her first time seeing Spectra feed, Lunti thought, and she accepted what she had to do.
"What about her?" Lunti asked, pointing. "Did you bring her here just for this?"
Orange's jaw slacked open as she retreated, afraid of what Lunti was suggesting. "No, I'm not full of love. I hate you, I hate her, you won't get anything good from me."
Spectra smirked, glancing from Lunti to Orange. "I wondered if you'd do it. And I'm not disappointed."
She took her weight off of Lunti and paced toward Orange, channelling a small amount of magic into her eyes to glow in the darkness. The pony's heart and lungs started pumping harder as she pushed her back up against a boulder, one of the many weights in the cavern connected to ropes.
"Don't think you can take me easily," she growled, even if her voice was a mouse's with all the panic choking her up. "I'll fight you, every step of the way, I'll fight."
Spectra smiled. Were all the leaders of ponies like this? Maybe she was just defiant because she was still new to the hive. She let Orange make space between them.
"You're right," Spectra said. She waved her hoof at Lunti. "Hold her down."
"What?"
"Hold her down," repeated Spectra.
"Me?" Lunti stammered. "But, with your strength, can't you just-"
Spectra turned her head to the side and glanced at her. "Lunti. Hold her."
The glow of her eyes forced Lunti's gaze down. "I see. Okay."
Orange tensed as Lunti neared her, swatting her hooves away as she tried to wrap her legs around. "Oh no you don't." Her resistance turned to wrestling as Lunti put her weight on her, taking her back.
"You can't fight," spoke Lunti, clenching her jaw from the effort. "We can't fight her the way we are."
"I don't give up so easily," retorted Orange, flailing her hoof at Lunti's face. She landed her blows, but it cost her control of her limbs as Lunti grabbed at them, clamping them within the joints of her own legs.
Lunti eventually postured herself against the boulder, behind Orange, spreading the forelegs of the pony out so she couldn't kick them around. Her hind legs still thrashed, but Spectra fixed that quickly by pressing down her own weight onto them.
"The thing is, I can smell every emotion going through your head right now," said Spectra, tearing off the mare's orange robe with her fangs and pressing a hoof down tightly on her chest. "You say you hate me, but I know you still have hope for your people, and for Marblestop. You hate me because you love them, so don't think for a moment that I won't eat your magic."
Orange coughed, Spectra's hoof compressing her chest at the sternum. "Just remember that I saved your life," she spat.
Spectra covered Orange's mouth with her hoof and leaned into her ear. "Don't act like you really had a choice." She ran her tongue from the rigid cartilage tip of the ear to the soft, flexible base, biting forcefully but without breaking the skin. "Your days of living with freedom are over."
Lunti breathed heavily as Spectra separated their lips. Lightheaded, she felt the effects of Spectra's appetite as she started to lose her sense of balance. Guided by Spectra's grip, she slid down into a soft carpet of glowing mushrooms. As empty as the dark cavern was, there was some beauty in its plants. Lying on the floor, Lunti felt like she was floating on a glowing blue sea.
She figured Spectra was full, or at least sated. She didn't drain magic like a pony discovering a desert oasis.
Lunti shivered, Spectra's cold touch running down her spine. The rough and chilly chitin was soon replaced with a warmer, moist tongue, tasting its way along Lunti's flesh.
"You have your thoracic artery right around here," said Spectra as she passed up Lunti's foreleg and to her neck. "Right now my bite is strong enough to burst straight through it."
"Please don't," Lunti said, her words going soft as Spectra engulfed Lunti's mouth again and syphoned her magic.
"Please?" Spectra chuckled. "What happened to the pony who was willing to throw herself off a nest-room just to free herself? Maybe Orange was right, maybe you have given up."
"I'm just trying to live," said Lunti, reaching out with her own hoof to feel Spectra's face. Hard chitin, smoothed to deflect attacks, but rough where the plates of chitin overlapped. A minor imperfection that reminded Lunti that her captors were not perfect.
Spectra stood up and looked over at her other ponies. The orange one was still recovering from her feeding. For her first time, Spectra had drained a little too much. Then there was Chevron, still unconscious, lying crumpled on a mattress of fungi.
"As simple as that, huh?" Spectra smiled. "Maybe some ponies aren't so different from us after all." It had been almost an hour now. Tomorrow she'd begin her new lessons, and though the idea of her mother giving attention to her was exciting, she needed sleep if she was going to be at her best.
She patted Lunti on the head. "Take care, sweet thing. Make sure not to let the orange one get her revenge. I'd hate to have to replace you after so much effort." She turned and walked to the entrance of the cavern, knocking on the door to signal the drone outside.
Once it shut, Lunti could hear nothing but her own breathing.
Drip.
And the occasional water droplet.
Scritch.
And also a couple cave-critters.
The nothingness of the cavern was calm but terrifying. With so little senses, Lunti had no idea how much time was truly passing. And after what felt like two or three hours, she realized she began yearning for something to do. Even if it was being eaten, she just needed something to do.
Morning in the hive was signalled by the scheduled return of a pack of hunter-drones, recovering from an excursion to a far-flung city of ponies to the north. Something plagued their emotions, Spectra sensed, but they were bound for the hunter-drone caverns. Whatever it was, it mustn't have been that important.
"You seem in a chipper mood," she said, smelling her captain coming up behind her.
"You were assigned a larger pack last night, princess," he replied. "Combined with our old numbers, you have fifty drones and five lieutenants as your personal entourage."
"They just agreed to take orders from you?" She asked, suspicious of how easy that sounded.
"I had to kill a few of my older siblings. The previous captain and his two lieutenants challenged me, but they were out of practice."
Spectra chuckled. "I know I said I wanted to sleep, but you could have woken me up just to see you put them in their place."
"Is that so?" Her captain tilted his head. "I'll have to remember that the next time I have a challenger."
"Anyway, what are you doing here right now?" Spectra asked.
"Waiting for a pack of guard-drones," he answered. "The Queen assigned me morning and afternoon patrol around the jungle."
"Do you think you can bring back some fruit from the jungle?" Spectra asked him. "Apparently mushrooms don't fit the pony diet very well, and the hive isn't exactly a centre of agriculture."
"I doubt the guard-drones will know how to harvest surface materials," her captain replied, "but I can have the lieutenants take the pack for a quick raid."
Spectra nodded. "Do it. It'll be a good exercise for the new pack."
Her captain nodded and hurried away into the hunter-drone caverns, giving the orders quickly so he would make it to the patrol on time.
Spectra wondered what had changed about the hive. When she was younger, everything seemed still and calm, like the world focused on her and nothing happened if she didn't need it too. Now the hive was swarming with captains and lieutenants entering in and out of the hive, worker-drones carrying away flaked fragments of stone, and guard-drones watching with silent eyes.
She smelled her mother descending from the exit tunnel of her chamber at the very top of the cavern. Even surrounded by so many Changelings, her mother's aura was overwhelmingly powerful.
"Good, you look ready." She gestured Spectra to hover with her. "We're going to one of the training chambers. Come on."
About halfway up the main cavern, the walls widened suddenly, creating a ledge wide enough for two to walk side by side, one that stretched around the length of the side. Spectra followed closely behind her mother through one of the many tunnels that opened to the ledge.
"I assume you've learned how to heal other creatures by now," her mother said.
"Yes."
"Good. What I'm about to teach you will require that you know how to control life with your magic."
The passage they walked through was old, though not natural like so many others in the hive. Spectra could walk down the centre and have both sides of the tunnel the same distance away from her. The edges, though eroded and transformed by countless years, were still cut in an organized fashion.
Drone-made, but unlike so many other artificial tunnels in the hive, this one had small blemishes. Flowstones, stalactites, and other underground features had begun to form on the edges of the tunnel. It must have been ancient, hundreds of years old.
"The hive looks to us because we are its means of survival," her mother continued as they walked down the passage. "Only we have the power to decide the future of our drones."
The tunnel widened into a plain square room, bright from the sacs of light that were evenly placed at each corner. There were wooden tables with carved designs that Spectra hadn't seen before, though the icons were clearly of some of the animal gods that ponies believed protected them.
More bulbous sacs lay on the tables, along with parts of animals Spectra couldn't easily identify. The blood on them dripped steadily off the tables, staining the room's floor.
"Do you know how other animals produce their young?" Spectra's mother asked.
"Of course," she answered. "They fertilize eggs, some inside their bodies, some outside. I've seen it countless times in the birds around the hive."
"Birds are sophisticated creatures, yes," her mother nodded. "But the process of mammals and insects, the creatures we are so closely related to, is both impractical and disgusting. We live too long and require too much food to spawn in masses as insects do, while female mammals go through far too much for the small number of young they produce."
Her mother levitated a pod from one of the tables and brought it closer for Spectra to see. She bit herself, dropping in a spurt of ichor into the viscous fluid, sealing the sac with magic by forcing the leathery shell to grow.
"We, instead, populate the hive with magic," she said, giving the pod to Spectra. "Using just a small piece of ourselves, we coax new life using magic to control the process."
Spectra stared at the pod. "What do I do?"
"Give it magic," answered her mother. "Think back to your egg-dreams. The anatomy of our kind, the details of every type of drone at the hive's disposal, is ingrained in our instincts."
Spectra did as she was told and focused on the pod, imagining it was the same one from her memories. Well, they weren't exactly hers. They were from a long-dead predecessor, one so old that their memories had become automatic commands. If she focused on the heart, she didn't need to know how every chamber worked together. She just felt her way through, piecing it together.
Lost in thought for was felt like hours, Spectra finally pulled herself from the dream-memories and inspected the pod. At the centre, the hunter-drone she was trying to grow was just a speck.
"It didn't work," she mumbled.
"You've only been charging it for forty minutes," replied her mother. "At this stage, you should be glad you got anything to grow at all."
"Well, then how long will it take?"
Her mother shrugged. "Every princess learns differently. You'll have to find your own pace. But I can tell you that it won't be easy. Don't expect anything to come out of that pod for the next few months. And when it opens, don't be surprised by what it is."
Surprised? Spectra looked at the pod again while her mother left her to let her work alone. She was hatching a drone, wasn't she? What could be so surprising about that?
Tenacity threw herself onto the ground and stared up at the blue sky. A ceiling that went on forever. She wanted to fly, to take up all the air and space as if she would one day lose it again.
"These are all the survivors?" Halfwing asked her captain, gesturing to the small group of injured soldiers that had helped dig them out of the rubble.
"Within the mine," replied Carrier. "A dozen scent trails lead out of the camp. Ponies who fled the fight, I imagine. Some lingered among the dead, maybe to bury them after the fighting, maybe just to hide, but whatever they were doing, they're not here now."
Halfwing sighed. "Do you think we'll find more in the village?"
"Neither Princess Spectra nor Princess Majesta is here. They would have taken a lot of ponies with them. They had the numbers to do it."
"We can't recover without more magic." Halfwing turned back to the mine. "The old masters, do you think we can dig them out?"
"Before they died of thirst?" He shook his head. "Ponies are fickle creatures. Even if we began clearing all the other tunnels right now, we don't have the raw labour to do it fast enough."
Halfwing snarled. "We had more ponies than I cared to count. It would be a tragic waste if they died."
"With due respect," spoke up one of the ponies, one without injuries. "Even if we did, wouldn't we be outnumbered by them? Digging them out will mean setting them free."
Carrier agreed. "The pony's right, we no longer have the strength to maintain what we had before."
"Then what?" Halfwing asked, turning to Tenacity. "Any ideas?"
She spread herself out on the ground. "Groundskeeper will still help us, but there's no way my ponies are still there. Majesta probably took them."
Halfwing looked to the survivors. "Do you think your village can come back after this?"
The healthy stallion looked at his comrades. "How many of us died? Any ponies left alive would be those who fled to the farmlands before the fighting began, but Marblestop doesn't have much farmland."
"There should still be a few hundred ponies left," Halfwing replied.
"Maybe, but we're not machines. The village's morale will crumble once word gets out. There's only so much loss we can handle."
Tenacity sat up. "I don't know what you're complaining about. Riverfork should have thousands of your kind. From what Spectra said about her time there, it sounds like they'll take you in if you say Changelings attacked you. Wouldn't even be a lie."
"You want us to go to the ponies we rebelled against?" the stallion replied.
"They probably assume you were all replaced by our drones during your uprising. And even if they don't, you can just tell them that's what happened."
"That's not what I meant." He helped one of the other ponies stand up. "We don't need them. Marblestop can stand on its own without ponies who force their own kind to work."
"Hm." Carrier thought for a moment, fluttering his wings in a twitch while he considered the options in his head. "Maybe you don't want to, but it would be best if we went."
"What do you mean?" Halfwing asked.
"It'd only be for a few weeks, for you to regain your strength." Carrier gestured to numerous corpses scattered across the mining camp. "Marblestop's not an ideal place to hunt anymore. Riverfork is full of healthy ponies with happier emotions. You'll recover and gain your strength, and it'll give Marblestop time to lick its wounds."
"Hey, drone," Tenacity yapped. "It was my idea, don't talk like you know what to do. You're young, aren't you? Have to be, since your first captain's dead."
Carrier didn't reply, Tenacity's remark hurting him so much he actually showed it on his face.
"What's your point?" Halfwing asked.
"You don't have experience hunting. Not for real."
"And you do?"
Tenacity smirked. "Of course. I actually hunted with my pack the right way."
"Forget it," Halfwing snapped. "If you think you can take the lead on this, we should just part ways now. I can't trust you enough not to get me killed."
Tenacity rolled her eyes. "You know there's no point in us fighting, we'd just be doing Spectra and Majesta a favour."
"I don't need you to beat them," she snapped back. "If it wasn't for you, I would've killed Spectra once I captured her."
"You should've done it the moment you saw her," Tenacity smirked. "Instead you waited and wasted precious time. If you want to keep to yourself, fine, but I won't let you waste my time when I already know what needs to be done."
She hissed to her drones and took off through the treetops west, toward Riverfork. Whether she meant it or not, it was another insult to Halfwing's disability, literary leaving her behind.
Halfwing sighed and took a seat right there on the gravel. "Think we should have killed her and taken her drones?" she asked Carrier.
"Even without magic, they're dangerous," he said. "You avoided the risk. I can't say if it was a good or bad decision, but it's the one you made, and the one I'll follow.
"Then we'll find the groundskeeper, and ask him for information on Riverfork."
"You plan on going, still?"
Halfwing nodded. "She was right about one thing, I haven't practised living as a pony for long enough. I'll have to expand my experience to have any hope of catching up to Spectra now."
Majesta and Spectra looked at both of their spawn.
"At least it has a leg," Spectra said, optimistically.
"That was supposed to be a rib," her sister replied.
"I think I put the face wrong on mine," Spectra added.
Majesta looked over. "The horn is sticking out of its eye socket."
It had been nearly three months of endless work, controlling the growth of their first... they couldn't even give it a name. It was supposed to be a Changeling, but what they got was a flat waste of chitin and skin that barely resembled a cow's faecal matter, let alone a living creature.
Both sorry things had three holes on the side that faced up, opening and closing to inflate themselves with air. Their erratic rising and slumping sickened even the two princesses, who could strip a deer of its skin without flinching a muscle.
"I don't know how mother does it," Majesta complained, kick her creation against the wall of the training room. The pile of flesh gurgled and puffed a load of air, trying to express pain and shock, but even its emotions were dead. It didn't have the brain to understand the pain and simply reacted to whatever touched it in a similar fashion.
Spectra grabbed a notebook, notes stolen from a natural philosopher who lived up north in a village called the Citrus Hills. He had diagrams of the anatomy of the large spiders native to his land, and the dragons that nested in the mountain near his home.
She flipped through its pages, reading over the near-complete picture of the internal and external composure of spiders and dragons.
"This is useless," Spectra said, tossing the book back onto the table. "What good is all this knowledge if we can't make it work for us."
"That notebook was stolen over fifty years ago," Majesta said. "I told you not to trust it. The information could be wrong."
"True, but our own studies haven't been much better." She grabbed the heart of a dead jungle rodent off one of their tables. "What's the point of studying all these animals? Changelings aren't any of them."
"There's a bigger picture," Majesta groaned. "Somehow, we're not seeing something."
"We could dissect another worker-drone," Spectra suggested.
"It would be no different from the other six we've already used," countered Majesta. "We need to try something different."
"Fine, once you figure it out, by all means, try it." Spectra levitated her grotesque creation and tossed it into a sac of green digestive fluid.
She left the room and Majesta, leaving through a corridor lit by round bulbs, green with a core of bright yellow. Light-drones, she learned one day from her mother. They were a subset of worker-drones, made specifically to never develop beyond their embryonic state.
Their egg sac, clearer but thicker than any other Changeling egg, was packed with highly nutritious fluid. Their eyes and internal organs glowed with white light, but according to her mother, their transparent chitin gave it the lava-like yellow-ish orange hue. A single light-drone could live for two years before it began to dim and die. She talked about their bodies as if understanding them was so simple, but after months, she had still decided not to divulge most of her secrets about producing more Changelings.
"Princess!" her captain called out from below as he hovered up the hive to meet her. "Worker-drones finished boring the hole you wanted."
"Good." Keeping her ponies healthy was a difficult chore. They needed food and water every day, and their internal skeletons offered no protection from the rats and insects that were parasites to their flesh. The hole led through the mountain to a stream on the surface, a source of fresh air and water in the empty cavern they lived in.
"Now that that's done, get the pack together, we're taking a trip up north," Spectra said.
"How far up north?"
"You know about the Citrus Hills?"
Her captain nodded. "Hunted there once for a few weeks."
"Alright, and bring only the best. It's a quick recon mission, there's some information I want to get."
"Is this what you normally wear?" Halfwing took one look at the pony Carrier had kidnapped a day ago. "It feels weird, having something so smooth draped over you."
"It's called silk," the groundskeeper said, watching them. "This mare's a wizard from a city far to the west, a place called The Range. She must be a young student if she didn't put up a fight with her spells."
"Ponies have strong magic like that? I thought they needed crystals."
"Not for some unicorns," he answered, "but not many of them live this far south of Equestria. Most stick to mountain cities, like the one north of Riverfork. The Range has several cities along the mountains the make it up, all boasting codified schools of magic. You'll have to pass as a student of magic if you're going to replace her."
The short mare stared in horror as the two of them casually discussed how Halfwing was going to take her place. Halfwing had already taken her form, but the groundskeeper continued his speech in the Changeling fashion of hisses and clicks.
"Please, take any pony else," she pleaded when they seemed about done talking. "I'm new to Riverfork, I don't know any pony with love to steal."
"A bit of work," Halfwing replied with the pony's own voice in a much stronger and confident tone, "but that's perfect. I'm a bit of a picky eater, so I hope you don't mind if I pick your friends for you."
"Princess!" Carrier hovered down from the treetops, returning from his patrol. "We spotted a pony headed this way a few miles south of here."
"Damn horrible hiker if they got that lost," mused the groundskeeper.
Carrier ignored the comment. "When I went to capture him, he called out your name. It's Septarian."
Halfwing's eyes widened. "He's alive?"
The groundskeeper frowned. "What's a... septarian?"
"He helped me seize Marblestop," Halfwing answered hastily, "and we need to find him. He must have escaped my sisters, somehow."
"The other two are leading him here right now, he should be at the edge of the nest soon."
Halfwing levitated her silk robes up off the dirt and hurried toward the south border of the nest. Carrier moved to follow, but the groundskeeper but a barrier in front of him to cut him off.
"You go on, Halfwing," he said. "There's something I need to ask Carrier about." She continued running, not seeming to care about what they had to talk about.
"What's going on?"
"You didn't smell that?" The groundskeeper groaned. "Of course, you didn't, you're as young as she is. Been around her longer too."
"I don't get it," replied Carrier.
"Her scent's not right," barked the groundskeeper, briefly shifting his voice to a low, bear-like pitch before returning to normal. "I know what it is, even though I've never even encountered it before."
"I didn't smell anything."
"I know you didn't, though I'm not sure why. The scent of a Changeling's love is unmistakably pungent."
The groundskeeper's words cracked a smile on Carrier's face. "That's a joke, right? Are you intoxicated or something? I saw a bunch of herbs in the pony's saddlebag."
"For once, I'm serious," the groundskeeper said sternly.
"You are?" Carrier stepped back and looked around. "For a moment I thought the Queen was here. Your kind only ever behaves normally when she's around."
"The rules on this are vague, so let me just say it plainly, whelp," the groundskeeper hissed. "Whatever your princess feels for that pony, he's more than just another tool to her. I can't say what the bond is, obsession perhaps, or like how ponies care for their pets, but it's not right. The scent's rancid enough at this stage. Any stronger and the Queen has a standing order to kill her, princess or no."
And those last words switched Carriers attitude. "Did you just threaten a princess? My princess?"
"As it stands she's barely those things," remarked the groundskeeper. "A bond like this with anything that isn't the hive is treason to the Queen, and 'my kind' are loyal only to the Queen. We are the weapons of her will. So deal with this problem."
"Or else you'll kill her?" growled Carrier.
"Me, or any other groundskeeper," he clarified, not even denying the outrageous thought of killing one of the Queen's daughters.
His conviction softened Carrier's expression against him. Groundskeepers were not ones to make threats lightly. Most hunter-drones treated them as outcasts, but even one as young as Carrier new the truth; they had as much strength and experience as the best captains of the hive, and they were born without the need to hunt in a pack. Whatever he wanted to do, Carrier knew there was no way he could stop him.
"In any event, we'll need that stallion," he said, taking to the air again to retreat to the nest. "Septarian was a special kind of drone to the Marblestop ponies."
"I know about their unique slave system."
"More than that, he was a skilled worker among them. Apparently belonged to some expensive business, which was how he learned the skills he has now."
The groundskeeper turned his back to the quivering unicorn and switched over his voice. "What do you think. Sound like a good idea?"
She stared at his fanged grin, horrified. "What? I don't know what you're talking about."
"Fine, have your fun with her," Carrier shook his head, flying off. "Just forget about the princess and let me deal with it."
The groundskeeper gave him a look as he left, then turned back to the mare. "I don't know if he can handle it. Did you ever have any difficult siblings? Technically I have thousands. Too many, I say."
"I don't know what you're talking about," the pony whimpered again. She yelped as the groundskeeper gently bit into a leg and yanked her closer.
"That's fine. After all, you don't need to know much of anything to be eaten."
Septarian leaned his back against the trunk of the nest-room's tree, unable to resist as Halfwing tended to his wounds. She had transformed into a blood-drinking bat, the kind whose saliva numbed the cuts of its victims so they would never notice their parasite. He found it weird being tended by her, but once her tongue began lapping up his blood, the cuts suddenly felt warm, and then there was no pain.
"That form you were in," he murmured, "you're going to take her place? Who is that unicorn."
Halfwing bit him on the shoulder, a soft spot not yet numbed up. He yelped but kept quiet after that, catching onto what she meant. No talking, not while she was working.
He felt squishing as she reached for the deeper wounds. Walking back from the wetlands the Changelings had taken him too was not a short journey. He had gashes where scavenging birds attacked him with their talons, too hungry to wait for him to die on his own. There were claw marks from foxes and wolves along his rear legs where the predators managed to catch up with his galloping.
Even with the numbing saliva, Septarian felt like his whole back being pinched and compressed. He looked to his side where a small pile of his infected skin was discarded.
"He'll need stitches," Halfwing said to one of the drones standing by, though her voice was much softer since the bat was so small.
But the drone complied anyway, flying quickly away and returning just as fast with a spool of thread and a thick copper needle that was clearly made by a Riverfork crafter.
"Can't stay at Marblestop?" he asked as she pricked his skin and pulled the thread through.
"No," she answered through her teeth as she worked the needle through again. "But you should. Your village needs a guiding hoof."
"What about you? Ow!"
He heard a sly cackle. "You forget, I'm the one who's a monster. Don't worry about me."
"You know I can't," Septarian said. "That's why I had to come back, I had to know if you survived the mountain slide."
She tightened the stitches and knotted the thread. "A little late for that, don't you think? Good thing for me that it worked out in the end." Halfwing stepped back and made space to stretch her body back out, burning magic in a violent green glow, growing back to the unicorn's body in seconds.
"When will you be back?"
"I don't know," Halfwing smirked and lay Septarian down on his side, protecting his back, "but be honest with me; this mare's body feels a lot better than mine, doesn't it?"
His eyes bulged at her sudden advances. "It'd be rude to compare two kinds of beaut-"
"Oh come on, I don't mind," she laughed. "A different body is just like clothing for my kind. Don't you like it? From the talk I've heard from your soldiers, don't males enjoy younger, innocent females?"
"But, your Changelings, they're right below us," Septarian protested uselessly once she laid her weight down on him.
"They're only drones," she said grinned. Her face pressed against his neck could feel the warmth of his blood rushing through capillaries and arteries, heating up the surface of his body. Elevated, his heart pumped blood into every vessel until the scent was intoxicatingly sweet. "They won't think anything about us."
The groundskeeper sat back and sipped a cup of tea, one of the many items stolen from the unicorn's saddlebag. He was with her, at the highest nest-room, listening to her story. It was one of the many things that set his kind apart from the drones, an appreciation for finer arts.
"Your mother sounds like she was a very proud mare," he mused, swishing the tea bag around. "The Rangefield Academy almost never takes in merchant class students." Once he began joking with her, the fearful unicorn seemed able to accept what was happening to her.
"Couldn't stop me from taking a 'diversity tour' to satisfy them," she said bitterly, lifting up her hemp bindings. "You can see how that turned out."
"Orders are orders," he shrugged. "I've no reason to deny Halfwing, while the Academy has to listen to the nobility that funds them." He emptied the cup. "I spent a few months among them when I was training in my youth."
She curled back away from the groundskeeper. "Then you'd know they send students like us to fix problems they don't want to handle. If you knew why I had to come to this place, you wouldn't have taken me."
"Well, whatever it is, it can't be helped now."
"It can if you let me go," she said. "That village across the river, hundreds died there, haven't they?"
"Was it really hundreds?" The groundskeeper scratched his head. "I guess if you count all the prey she kept inside the mountain..."
"By now I thought you would've figured it out already," she gawked at his lax behaviour.
"Oh quit it, or I'll really eat you," he scoffed. "Of course a dragon's going to turn up. They can pick up that scent from hundreds of miles away."
She furrowed her brows. "And you're not worried?"
The groundskeeper ruffled his wings in a gesture she could only guess was some sort of boast. "That dragon's going to eat her fill of ponies, then nest for a few decades to lay her eggs. As long as I do to it, it will do nothing to us."
"It might eat your friends," she suggested.
At that, he laughed. "Drones aren't my friends, I don't even know if they're capable of the thought. But, if Halfwing somehow finds her way into the jaws of the dragon, she's not worth saving."
He laid his head down to rest. "It might even save me trouble in the long run."
Scrunch, scrunch, two ponies dug through the unburied remains of the mining camp's battle. There were still claw marks in the gravel that hadn't settled back down, though the oldest corpses were already half-eaten by maggots and crows.
"Owlseye, see anything we can use?" Blunderhoof shouted to his friend.
"Raw ore and broke pick heads," replied Owlseye. They, and about seventy other ponies, were the first to take the news to heart and return to Marblestop proper.
"Those soldiers survived somehow," Blunder sighed, "they must've had more than just those spears."
"Well we won't find herbs for your daughter," Owlseye kicked over a bucket of iron ore. "Did you see the others? Cuts and bruises everywhere. Looked infected."
"Maybe they were saving medicine for a tough day?"
His friend scoffed at his optimism. "They already had their toughest day when the other Changelings beat them. Just because we were the ones to finish the job doesn't mean they weren't already desperate."
"Thanks for cheering me up," he scowled. Blunderhoof stood up and wiped the gravel off his knees. "I've searched through half of these dead bastards and there's nothing." He bucked the pile of dead Marblestop soldiers aside. "Told you we should have gone with the others to loot the village. Might've been some medicine oils in the market."
Owlseye stomped his hoof at his friend's complaints, scattering a pile of broken crystals. "Blunder, if there were medicine oils, don't you think the army would have carried that somewhere safe? I'm telling you, once Tackle Ficher gets here with the cart, we can haul these spears back and use them to get the medicine she needs."
The stallion opened his mouth to complain about another thing when a shadow passed over their heads. The sky, the blue luminous sky, was so quickly washed with blood. Black and rotting like wretched roaring, soaring, it flamed the mountainside. The blistered camp's iron air wafted high when skin peeled back to revel in its cleansing, screaming, calling out to the dragon to end the suffering of existing as dead things. Turned to ash, they were, the looters looking for medicine.
Riverfork's crowded markets groaned at its seems with customers and merchants bartering and haggling over countless goods. At the docks where Mezza Forte got off, she saw boats filled with lumber being traded to a warehouse owner. Candles holders, saws and hammers, belt buckles and nails, all manner of little things were similarly traded in the stores by the docks.
Just a little further in she smelled pony foods, like the rich scent of cereal grains, cheese, and other leafy vegetables. The cheese smelled really good. Clomp clomp, her hooves rapped against the wooden planks that made up the walkways and held everything just a little higher above ground.
"Keeps dry," Mezza noted. Riverfork experienced the spring's gentle floods when snow and ice from the much colder north melted into their southern river. Unlike Marblestop, which channelled the water away through their intricate waterways, Riverfork elevated its village with stilts of hardwood from its forests.
She stopped by a shop with a sign shaped like a wheel of cheese. The scents of the waxed ones, aged, were both pungent and alluring. Mezza couldn't help but investigate.
"Hey! So nice to see a new face!" cried out the pegasus at the counter. She swapped her cheese for coins from the ponies waiting in line while another pony, a stallion, came out to greet Mezza.
"Sorry for the shout," he said, "we get a lot of repeat customers, so Esilis gets pretty excited when some pony new comes. Anyway, is there something I can help you with?"
Mezza Forte felt her purse under her silk robes. She didn't have much currency, at least not the sort that Riverfork ponies accepted.
"I might be interested in buying that wheel right there," she pointed to one high up on one of the shelves. "But I need to find the bank first, or somewhere I can exchange my money."
"From out of the village, huh?" He looked up. "Well I'll keep that one on hold, you picked quite the old breed of cheese." Taking a step outside the store, he pointed up the village to the higher streets.
"Find Wholesale's Exchange on the west side of village's interior," he said. "Tell him Reiter sent you, he'll give you the best exchange rate in Riverfork."
"Really?"
The stallion nodded, then chuckled to himself. "Just don't let him pitch you an investment opportunity."
The long road of banks and exchange companies stunned Mezza. There were Riverfork banks, Marblestop banks, exchanges for grain and coin, even some places that would do trade in foreign currency. Give the backdrop of commercial success, Wholesale's Exchange didn't seem any more or less extraordinary than the other places.
She, of course, wasn't going to take a pony by his word. There wasn't any rush getting settled into Riverfork, so she took the afternoon to talk about the rates she'd get with a few other merchants. Some were better than others, but she could sense they were lying when they all said they'd give her the best deal in Riverfork.
But, Reiter was wasn't just telling the truth about Wholesale's generous rates. He was right about the investment pitch.
"Ridiculous is exactly why this business is going to explode with customers." Despite her resistance, he was still trying to get her to put some money into a balloon making guild. "Business with pegasi cities is going to be the next big thing, I promise you. They don't have farmland and they don't have mines, with hot air balloons the trade basically pays for itself!"
Behind her, the bell on the door rang as another stallion walked straight up to Wholesale's desk.
"Cedar, what are you doing here?" he asked the stallion. "I'm having a discussion with my client here."
Mezza stood up. "No you're not." She grabbed her purse of Riverfork coins and stepped away.
"The new carriage route we set up to the Marblestop settlement burned down," the stallion burst out. His breathing was heavy.
"What? When?"
"An hour ago," he answered. "One of the drivers fled the station and came to my door. Said it was a dragon."
The calm and friendly merchant Mezza was just talking to disappeared, and Wholesale bucked his chair into a basket of rolled up parchment. "Why in Equestria is there a dragon here? They never fly so far from their land."
"Well, it's here now," Cedar said.
He turned to Mezza, looking over her robes. "Sorry to bother you, but could you please leave us to talk?" No sooner did he his last word before the unicorn was galloping out the door.
Mezza Forte followed the trail of the first scent she could find. She had sensed it when she first entered the village but paid little attention to it then. Other Changelings on their hunts, they were expected occurrences.
But Halfwing cursed her bad luck as she moved about in the unicorn's body. What was a dragon doing here? She'd have time to find out, after it was taken care of, of course.
She found her way to the centre of the village's tradecraft market, a circle of workshops for ponies to practice their craft and sell their tooled goods. Mezza Forte turned her nose around and honed in on the scent wafting from a partially torn down smithing shop.
A sign had been ripped off and thrown onto the ground, reading "Quillion and Ricasso" across it, and had been replaced by a curled font, Marina's Forge. Hot irons and charred coals radiated a smell stronger than Marblestop's mines, but Halfwing could still smell the Changeling masquerading in there.
This was good. If they were skilled, they could fashion an iron spike, one long enough to go straight through a dragon's eye. Or a saw blade, and she could levitate it and spin it with magic, taking the animal's head in a single, if bloody, slash.
"Hello?" she called out to the young ponies working on the door frame. "Is it alright if I talk to some pony here? I have some questions if you aren't..." she glanced at the busted wall, "too busy."
"Go right ahead ma'am," said one colt. "We're just doing some renovating since Master Marina just bought this place."
Shelves greeted Mezza with copper and iron tools and decorations. Hammers and chisels made for shaping marble filled one side of the shelves. Candle holders, knives, wall fixtures, horseshoes, almost anything she could think of was made of metal in this shop.
Heading it all was a drone, and by the scent, one of Spectra's former pack members. Halfwing was surprised to smell her sister's scent now that she neared the drone. It was faint, like the mark a hound left to mark its territory, which relaxed her a little. Her sister wasn't here, not really, but she had hunted here. She laughed internally, her sister had been one village over, and it took her months to strike back at Marblestop.
She sensed that the drone had smelled her as she approached. Mezza levitated an iron knife and set it down on the counter to allay suspicions as they talked.
"A knife? We can make a customized one if you like."
"Marina, right?"
"The one and only," replied the drone, flashing a knowing smile. She levitated the knife and held it to her face, but kept her eyes on the door to the shop. "I expected to see Princess Spectra again. Does this mean she died in the end?"
Halfwing wished that was the case, it'd make getting a favour from the lieutenant so much easier. But it was pointless trying to lie to a Changeling.
"I don't know what she's doing now, I just came here for some help."
Marina sniffed the air. Ponies wouldn't smell it for a few more hours, but smoke was definitely in the air, coming from the west. It smelled strongly of flesh, not the savoury pine that forest fires gave off when they burned. The unicorn put down the knife and wrapped it in a piece of cloth.
"You were at Marblestop?" she asked.
Mezza paid for the knife and put it in the pocket inside her robe. "Marblestop's hardly relevant right now. There's a dragon coming."
"Not surprised, after that body count you created," she said, leaning closer to Mezza. "Smells like you've been through it. Princess Tenacity's scent is stuck to you like mud."
"We fought, I lived," Mezza replied, "and now there's a dragon raiding the border of the village."
Marina nodded somberly. "I was hoping it was just a wildfire that spread from your fighting. All it takes is one spark of magic on dry leaves to start one."
"I don't know where else to go, I have to stay here, which means that dragon is a threat. Don't you want it gone?"
Marina shrugged. "If Riverfork burns, I'll have an excuse to return to the hive without breaking cover. But, since I'm taking her place, I'm technically not part of Spectra's pack anymore. I'll help if you want me to."
Mezza felt her shoulders and neck relax, relieved that she still had command over the hunter-drones. "Good, then start making a weapon we can use against the dragon. It'll have to big."
Marina raised a brow. "You intend to fight like that? Princess, dragons hunt in the countrysides, it won't come here any time soon. My advice to you is to take a fortnight to recover your strength. Riverfork is full of ponies, you can afford to be picky."
Riverfork was a junction of nearly every kind of product in Equestria. And with it, came knowledge from all over Equestria. Tenacity was somewhere in the village, living a new life among the ponies and gathering more strength day by day. That fact, Halfwing was sure of.
She just needed to know how to do the same.
Nothing preserved pony culture better than books. Even the groundskeepers kept written records of ponies to train new hunter-drones. This store was small, but she was assured by Marina that it was the most trusted, and wealthy, bookstore in the village. The unicorn who owned the store was a writer by trade, with ink-stained hooves to show for all his hard work. Most of the books in the store had been copied by his apprentices, but they were each still worth double their weight in gold.
But coin was meaningless to Halfwing, a simple means to an end. Ponies could barter and talk over what they wanted, and never get anything in the deal. She was happy to spend what she had on a book; anything else she wanted she could take, by force or by trickery.
"Looking for something, miss?" asked the writer.
Mezza glanced at his collection. He had five shelves, possibly a hundred books in total, written by the levitation of talented unicorns with delicate, focused magical abilities.
"Just wanted something for heavy reading," she said. "Do you have anything about the local gods and spirits, by any chance?"
He nodded, leaving his desk and limping over to one of the shelves. "What for, might I ask? Are you a student?"
Mezza lifted her robes. "Came from the Range: Rangefield Academy, to be precise. They sent me out to explore the rest of Equestria to get a better understanding about our world, and I wanted to my Riverfork essay on the gods here, especially now that Marblestop has added its pantheon."
"Came across another student from the Range decades ago," he said, chuckling as he moved his hooves along the spines of his books. "You, uh, crazy up in your horn, too?"
"Excuse me?"
He mumbled something under his breath before replying. "Sorry if that sounded rude. The last student from the Range that came here turned one of the ships at the dock into a river monster. He left before it was killed, so the village militia had to spend ten lives to bring it down."
"No," Mezza shook her head, a little shocked, "I'm good, but, I don't think I'm that kind of crazy in my horn."
"'Good. Spent weeks picking up scraps of paper that monster left lying around. Aha!" He removed a wide-spined book bound in leather cut from different animals and sewn back together.
He walked back and set it on the counter for Mezza to look at. "This was commissioned by the late councilmember Blue Stripes. Doctors said it was measles that killed him, but I don't think his alcoholism helped either. He died before he had any kids, so I never knew who to pass it on to."
"It looks..." Mezza inspected the patchwork bindings.
"Wanted it like that," he shrugged. "It's called the Legends and Myths of Equestria, so he wanted it made from animals all over Equestria. I had to wait for months to get the hydra hide."
"All over Equestria? Even Riverfork?"
"Well of course," the owner said and flipped to the first story for her. "The first twenty stories are local favourites. The River Being, Fishfoxes and Water Spiders, even the Ram God's story is in here."
Mezza buzzed on the inside at the prospect of hunting anywhere in Equestria. There was really so much she didn't know about the villages and cities north of the river. This would change that, it would change all of that.
She laid out her coins on the counter and the owner counted it all up. His lips twitched as he thought it over. Books were not cheap to make. A shelf of twenty books could cost as much as the largest manses in Marblestop, Mezza knew that much at least. She herself wasn't sure if she had enough gold, but she really didn't want to steal it and risk damaging the book in the process.
"It's not as much as I hoped, but if you do me a favour, I'll be happy to part with this one." He grabbed a sealed letter from some box under his counter and gave it to her. "I don't imagine this will mean anything to you, but take this to the Pheonix temple in the Marblestop District and give it to Espera Voxa."
"She's a special mare, I presume?" Mezza feigned ignorance. The name Voxa had been thrown around so many times among the ponies in Marblestop. The Espera was their religious leader, and even though she supported their system of debt slavery, even the slaves admired whatever "spiritual" powers she possessed.
"A confession, of sorts," he said, "and once I know she has it, come back and this book will be waiting for you to read it. I'll even gift wrap it for you."
"Gift wrap?" Mezza smiled innocently and tucked the letter into her robe. She could smell deception on him, and even without her senses, the Espera was not a mare you wrote to on a whim. "Sounds fun. But it better be some damn good wrapping paper."
Tenacity and her lieutenant locked the door behind them before lighting the torch. The pony they had captured, a young mare draped in an orange robe, was bound and gagged with thick corded rope in the corner of the barn.
"Wasn't easy on the other three, bringing her here," Lieu said, looking down at the mare's tear-streaked face. "One of them caught a kick to the eye, now he's half blind."
"Can he heal it?" she asked.
"Not easily. The kick lodged a fragment of bone somewhere in his eye. Even if he tries to transform, that bone will just stick with him until we get it out."
Tenacity walked up to the mare and tightened her bindings, thinking over the issue while she sampled the scent. "And I guess cutting out the eye completely will just leave him crippled like my sister, won't it?" Her lieutenant nodded.
"Then leave it for now, there's nothing we can do without a surgeon."
"As you say, princess." Her lieutenant took her leave and returned to the farmer's house that they had borrowed indefinitely. The stallion and his twin daughters were locked up too in the wine cellar below the house, food for the rest of the hunter-drones. Tenacity had wondered where their mother was, but a gravestone in the field answered that curiosity.
"I've seen one of your kind before," she finally said to the orange-robed mare. Tenacity grabbed her by the face. To call her a mare was a stretch, her skin and muscle were still soft, padded with remnants of fat that mammal infants were born with to stay warm. She was young, on the cusp of adulthood but not quite there.
Tenacity wiped the tears off her face. "What's this?" The tears were not clear but mixed with coloured pigments that clung to her coat as long as they were dry.
"Not happy with our original look, are we?" Tenacity laughed. "You paint your face with these things for what? So a stallion might look your way once in a while?"
She transformed into a stallion she had seen singing for one of the Marblestop choirs. Handsome by most pony standards, Tenacity added a few additional layers of musculature to the body to flare up the masculinity. The mare took one look and then turned away, shocked by the difference.
"Of course, why would a stallion like this ever stay with a mare who can't show her true face?" Tenacity's taunting laugh was deeper now, and in a voice that the mare could understand, it was even more demeaning. "Oh, you could be the kind that looks for quick romance, never sticking to one target for more than a few days. Now that, I can relate to."
The brewing emotions underneath the pony's terrified exterior made Tenacity salivate against her will. Angry, ashamed, and frightened, those sour and bitter emotions added complexity and spice to a deeper desire. There was some pony on her mind, a burst of love when her looks were mentioned. Insecure, Tenacity's mocking seeded wishes in the mare's mind.
"Your gallant love won't come for you," she said taunted more, biting the mare by her mane and pulling her head up. Tenacity felt her skin crawl from the pony's muffled screams and she returned to her original form to enjoy the sensation fully.
"Besides, even if he did," she got up and twirled around in the middle of the barn, "wouldn't I be a better choice?" Tenacity changed again, copying one of the older oranged-robed chanters she had seen walking around the Marblestop District. Her legs flexed into lean muscle, not as strong as a bulky stallion, but smooth and much more defined.
She grinned down at the pony. "After all, a painted face could never achieve this."
The mare's useless screams and her intoxicating sweat and emotions signalled Tenacity's instinct to pounce. A burst of green magic shot out and stunned the mare; Tenacity landed on top of her in her black, chitinous form. She went to work on extracting her emotions.
Her jaw broke free of its hinges and her knees compressed the mare's chest, squeezing both air and magic out like a chef squeezing lemons over a salad. The orange-robed mare coughed first, then rapidly began convulsing when she no could no longer stand the pressure on her chest. But more and more, Tenacity breathed in her magic.
It was only when her magic turned coldly bitter that Tenacity recognized that the mare was nearing her expiration. She broke the channel of magic and took her weight off of her, letting the pony breathe.
"That's it?" Tenacity clicked her tongue in disappointment. "You've got a lot of problems to get off your chest, girl. A lot of insecurities. Now, we're going to do this again, and again, until you learn to deal with your feelings."
The mare panicked and writhed like a maggot, but Tenacity was on her a second time, not hesitating for one moment before devouring more magic.
The main road to the Marblestop District was charred black from dragon fire. But, already devoid of life, it wasn't unlikely that the dragon would come back for seconds. Whatever it had wanted, it certainly didn't care about leaving any evidence. Piles of ash could be bodies as easily as crates of gemstones.
"Princess," said her captain, "I don't see why you had to do this job for that pony. I could've replaced a banker or merchant and we could simply buy his books."
"I didn't realize you cared about getting money."
"I don't. But they're for real value that can make things like this easier."
Halfwing stepped over a burnt carriage wheel left on the side of the road. "True, but if something as valuable as a book can be bought with a simple favour, think about how important that favour might be. It's a letter to the Espera."
"You read it?"
Halfwing looked at her drone. "It's a wax-sealed letter."
"So," Carrier said, "what did it say?"
"Nothing I can make sense of. The letter is coherent in parts, together it doesn't make any sense."
Black crows and ravens and smaller brown birds gathered around one of the overturned carts. The dragon had left behind crates of dried fruits and vegetables for the animals to eat. It seemed everything but ponies benefitted from the chaos.
The Marblestop District, even in the day, glowed as they approached it. The caementine made from Riverfork's sand and soil was not pure white as the original recipe, it had a range of colours from eggshell to sandstone yellow. Rather than contrasting, the walls of their houses and markets seemed to blend with their fired clay roof tiles. It seemed like their new village had risen naturally from the earth itself.
The temple of the spirit Phoenix was the tallest building in the district, as expected of Marblestop custom. Disguised as one of Marina's apprentice smiths, Carrier followed Mezza Forte up until they reached the market. He was here to buy rare ingredients Marina needed to make a dragon-killing weapon, and from the market, he could keep a nose out for Tenacity or her drones.
Mezza let him go, taking herself into the temple of the Phoenix. It didn't have the same eye-catching charm, no intricate paintings on the wall, no glazed clay tiles that shined like water and glass, just caementine bricks. But the music was every bit as good as she remembered.
Twelve voices harmonized in a chant that Halfwing couldn't understand. The words were old, a language no longer spoken outside of their slow hymns to the guardian spirits. Even with dragon fire raining down around their district, Marblestop ponies seemed unfazed.
She was surprised. These were not slaves, they were masters of trade and building and mining and smithing, rich and skilled enough to buy and own the lives of their fellow citizens. She would've thought that a dragon would be the scariest thing for ponies like them. They sat upon wealth no different than the dragon that threatened them.
Mezza waited about an hour to let the chanters finish. Marblestop's caementine streets and walls left little that could be burned by the dragon, and under the roof of the Phoenix, she felt safe.
As the chanters divided up and returned to whatever lives chanters lived outside of the temple, Mezza noticed a tall and slender mare walking over to her.
"Are you well, dear?" she asked in a voice as smooth and powerful as liquid gold. "I make it a point to know the ponies who come into this temple. You're not from Marblestop, are you?"
Mezza found her legs weak under her presence, and she had to wet her lips before she could reply.
"No, I'm a student from Rangefield Academy," she answered. "I was buying a book from an associate of yours when he asked me to bring a letter for Espera Voxa."
"That would be me," she said.
Mezza quickly fumbled through her robes and levitated the sealed letter. Voxa held it in her hoof and inspected the wax.
"This seal is deformed," she said, eyeing Mezza.
She gulped but stood her ground. "I had to walk here, and the ashes of the countryside are still pretty hot, ma'am. I thought that would happen, but I tried my best to get here quickly."
Something puzzled Halfwing. Voxa had neither the scent of a pony convinced by a lie nor one who was suspicious. In fact, the only scent she had on her was a soft olive fragrance, the kind Marblestop ponies used in baths. That alone wasn't enough to put a veil over her emotions, especially at this range. But, as hard as she tried to focus, Voxa simply didn't have a scent.
"Damned dragon," Voxa swore under her breath. "Well, these things happen. Must be a pretty expensive book, if this is what you have to do to get it."
"It has a lot of cultural importance, which is what I'm here to study," she said.
"Well then, I should give you something so he knows you've brought it to me," said Voxa, patting around her robe. "Wouldn't want a slow messenger to stop you from getting your book, now do we? Ah ha!"
She produced a thin copper tube decorated with tight but rotatable gold rings around it. "He'll know what to do with this," she told her.
Mezza took the strange item and thanked her. She left reluctantly, still wanting to bask in the presence of a mare like the Espera, but there was nothing else they had to talk about. And, the longer she waited, the more likely it was that the dragon would return. Mezza trotted out the front door and went to rejoin with her captain.
Marina had provided a room for Halfwing and her captain while her other drones hunted among the ponies, but even just for the two of them, the apprentice's room was cosy. Carrier laid on the bed, bundled up in blankets, as Halfwing rocked back on forth in her reading chair.
Sir Grain and the Green Dragon
She read the story out loud. As old as she was, reading long passages of pony writing was still new to her. The quietest she could manage was mouthing the words under her breath.
In a village amidst the lonely mountain, a council was called on the seventh day of the seventh week of winter, discussing plans for the next years harvest. Trees of cones and candles of blaze brightened the streets as knights from all ponies gathered.
Sir Grain, a knight from the Earth Ponies, was the first of his kind at such meeting and much respect had he still to earn. But cold winds swept through the windows fast, beating roars from wings as wide as open plains and just as green. An emerald dragon who proclaimed himself a lord perched on top of the meeting hall and slithered his brilliant head into the door.
He offered a challenge: the knight who could pierce his scale would be rewarded with a mountain of emeralds from his personal hoard. But if the challenger failed, the dragon would be free to test the knight's armour with his teeth. All the knights, courteous and brave, claimed they would do it, but didn't want to take the glory from any pony, if another knight desired the challenge more. Only Sir Grain took the dragon's wager unabashedly.
"Sir Grain sounds like he was an idiot," Carrier said, sampling a bite of the cheese Halfwing had bought with the spare change she had left.
"Well the old stallion's notes at the beginning said it's a story of triumph, so he must have defeated the dragon somehow," Halfwing told him and flipped the page. "Also, go easy on the cheese. We're out of money so it's not like I can buy more."
"But it's strangely good," her captain stared at the piece he had taken, perplexed.
"I know, it's so strange," Halfwing agreed. "The magic aftertaste is what I really like." She returned to the story.
"No hide is too thick for a spear as sharp as mine," spoke the knight so proudly. The dragon obliged, lowering his head. Clutched in his hooves the spear went, but the iron's sharpness was truly spent. It flew and flung pieces all ways, scattered, battered, broken it lay.
"Knew it," commented Carrier. Halfwing ignored him, carrying on.
"I'll bite you now, you should agree, but not so cruel am I, to deny you your family. Rejoin them now and after harvest, find me waiting in the mountain farthest.
"Hold on, is it rhyming all of a sudden?" Carrier got out of the bed and leaned on the chair, reading the page. "I guess ponies change writing styles as often as we change bodies."
Halfwing flipped back to the front and read again the preface to the story. "The book pony wrote that this story had multiple authors. He combined their writing styles as a way to catch all the different versions." She returned to her page and continued to read.
It went on about his family and happiness for a few pages, then she read the five about Sir Grain hiking through a forest of orange trees to reach the mountain, then she read aloud the storminess of the weather while he scaled up the mountain.
"A dragon shows up in one page but a hike takes five?" Halfwing exclaimed to herself.
"It's really vivid imagery, I can feel the wind on my skin," Carrier told her. "You're doing great Princess, reading much quicker."
"That compliment sounded too good to not be sarcastic," she replied. "Are you making fun of me?"
Her captain looked down bashfully, his magic suddenly turning to the scent of confusion. "No, I don't think I can make fun of you, Princess."
Halfwing stared, feeling bad for blaming him for his compliment. She knew what hunter-drones were to the hive, weapons for hunting. Clever, thinking weapons, but still weapons nonetheless. But Carrier was not like the captains assigned to them on their first hunt. He was young, a hunter-drone born at the same time as her and her sisters to serve as their most loyal generation. Carrier was a leader, her family, and a strong pair of wings.
"Carrier, I didn't mean to sound unappreciative," she began to apologize.
"Oh no, Princess, I don't need your explanation," he suddenly said, unsure of what to do with his princess becoming sympathetic toward him. "I'm quite alright." As quickly as his confusion came it faded, replaced with the same simple pleasure of serving the royal daughter he had been assigned to.
Halfwing couldn't shake the sense of loneliness that somehow brought. Ponies, even Septarian, happily disagreed with her and offered different perspectives. Being the centre of attention for her drones, suddenly, made her feel very, very lonely. Halfwing shifted her mind off of herself and back to the book.
Bound by honour as a knight Grain climbed the mountain and took a right, into the cave atop the highest mountaintop. Withered, tired, no food to spare, he only had the deadly dare, and with more might than you or me he looked upon the dragon, green.
"I see you have come, not late, to the challenge which has sealed your fate." With jaws so strong and fangs that pointed, as deadly as a snake with venom anointed, the dragon bit hard and metal bent, though flying back the dragon went. "Arg, you fiend, you've bested my dare, you've brought sneeze pollen to a dragon's lair!"
Mezz furrowed her brow. "Sneeze pollen?"
The dragon, harmed by the flowering trees that Grain had taken such time to pass, exposed the soft joints under his arm. With his spear, Grain did aim true and dealt the death blow to the dragon's heart.
"Hm," she grumbled, "I'm starting to miss the rhyming now."
"Princess, do you think that will work?" Carrier studied the pictures opposite the text. "If the artist's depiction is right, I've seen those flowers before at the markets by the river. Ponies like to use it to decorate their homes."
"Flowers with dragon sneezing pollen? That explains why Riverfork is still standing with a dragon as its new neighbour."
"I'll have the drones replace the merchants who sell them," Carrier suggested. "We'll be able to get all the flowers you need to kill the dragon."
Kill a dragon, Halfwing thought. A flying, fire-spewing weapon of unparalleled natural destruction. A living forest fire, able to go anywhere and do anything. No Changeling had ever killed a dragon, which was why not even older captains knew how to transform into them. Halfwing smirked. Hopefully for her, that was about to change.
A flock of birds patterned the sky with their brown speckled wings. Sharpened eyes scanned the green pastures below, where ponies ran and lived free lives as shepherds and orange farmers. There in the orchards sheep and rams basked in the springtime sun, directed to grazing fields at certain hours of the day by their pony masters.
Cows lazed around hay bales and troughs content to eat an drink as they gave their milk to ponies, and bulls locked horns to compete in friendly tests of strength. A shepherd looked up from his watch over the animals to appreciate the sky, and from the ground, he could only see the birds as distant specks.
If he could see them and knew that peregrine falcons did not hunt in flocks, perhaps Spectra's hunt would have ended with the shepherd alerting his fellow ponies that something was not right. But today, like the past sixteen days, she and her pack passed over the home of the pony who conducted experiments and studies on the animals around him.
Spectra imagined someone more mobile, not confined to a house with brick patios and hardwood walls, but it seemed to her that he had shifted his focus a little since his last studies. He looked more like a wizard than a pony who observed animals.
She had her pack perch on the thatched roof while she sat on the windowsill to his study. Tables were cluttered with crystal vials, boilers, filters, even a spinning device that could separate a mixture of liquids into different components. Bottles of preserved body parts from both monsters and animals lined a shelf on one wall.
The scientist, Trumoss A-Keeneyes, opened the window and peaked out at Spectra. Like every other day, he left out a tray of seeds for her, which she pecked at grudgingly as she watched him work. His equipment did something to the animals he was studying. Trumoss would use different methods for blood and organs, but in the end, he'd produce a small quantity of a fluid that turned on a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
Spectra had seen ponies acting against Changeling nature, but she was sure that this was the most bizarre thing she had encountered. Whatever he made, whether it was from an ox or a parasprite, he'd stare at it through a crystal lens minutes at a time, switching it around with other samples and other lenses.
"She's coming to the door," crowed one of her drones looking onto the house from a tree in the backyard garden. Spectra flew up and screeched a confirmation, gliding around the house to listen from the porch of the house.
"Birdie!" cried Trumoss's youngest daughter, Paradise, as she saw Spectra. The filly tossed a few flowers on the porch, which Spectra refused to eat. The little pony stared expectantly, but quickly grew bored and prattled her way inside to find her father.
Spectra flapped her wings three times, motioning three drones to fly closer and monitor their conversation while she scanned the sky for the elder sister.
"Stay," her captain, already in the air, advised while speaking at a frequency unique to Changelings. "I see her, she's talking to that colt the target doesn't like."
"Which one?" Spectra replied.
"The one that always has bruises from fights."
"Hm," Spectra commented, "she has good taste."
Spreading her wings she retreated to the chimney, where she could hear all the conversations in the house from one point. The mother of their little hive was on the second floor, hemming a skirt once worn by Willow Wisp, her older daughter so it would fit her younger.
"Mom never did that for us," Spectra pouted. It might've been for the best, but Halfwing's hatred wasn't misplaced. The Queen was like a heartless witch. Then again, Spectra was never a daughter who smiled at her mother as the filly did with her father.
"When are you going to be done, Dad?"
"For today? Only a few more samples that need looking at," he said. "But my research is something that could take a lifetime. You might even be doing it when I get too old."
"Work with monster parts? Ew!" The young filly's laughter riled the feathers on the other bird. Spectra's drones were disciplined and unquestionably loyal, but that couldn't stop their natural impulses. Spectra herself had to restrain her hunger, despite the nectar-like sweetness of the pony's happiness.
"My princess," reported her captain again, "the couple are moving out of sight of the villagers. I could use a lieutenant with me."
"You have them," Spectra signalled her pack. One of the birds fluttered off of the roof and soared off toward the forest that neighboured the largest waterfall Spectra had ever seen. She signalled two other drones to monitor the young stallion's parents. She didn't want to go through the hassle of replacing them, but they still needed to be watched in case they started to notice their son behaving weirdly.
She could hear Trumoss chuckling from the chimney. "Alright, maybe you won't. But trust me, I think I've come across something truly magical."
"Are you really going to make rainbow oranges?" the filly asked. "Like the ones from your stories?"
"I don't know about oranges, but maybe one day we'll have rainbow fruit," he answered her. "I just have to figure a few more things out first, okay?"
"A few more things," Spectra whispered to herself. She had wanted this to be quicker, but if Majesta was still producing a drone at the same rate they had been when she left the hive, there was no rush. The days she had taken to confirm this was the right stallion, spying on his style of writing, the nature of his work, and the specimens he was interested in, was all worth it.
She waved a wing and called for half her pack to return to the groundskeeper and rest. "Prepare for the operation tonight," she advised them ahead of time. "With the eldest daughter, everything else falls into place. The rest of you will stay and watch."
Another one failed. The book Mezza bought was invaluable knowledge of Equestria, but it proved a constant source of paranoia as well. Stories of dragons, basilisks, hydras, and other scaled monsters with incredibly thick hide. Even with special flowers, the right weapon was needed to pierce the dragon's hide.
Or the training tree, in this case. They were on a little farm very close to Riverfork, Marina had purchased it at Halfwing's request as a place to test the new weapons, and cultivate their flowers. She was hesitant about their effectiveness, but from what she could tell, the story of Sir Grain was for the most part a true account. The effects of the orange flowers he used were well documented once she started snooping around other bookstores and local stories.
Riverfork's own government building had decorated its gardens with carriages full of the dragon sneezing trees, the final confirmation that she could trust the information she had. That, and the fact that Riverfork was a village made mostly of wood that had survived over a month while a dragon lived so close.
Wromp.
The only issue now was the weapon. According to other records of pony knights, they had extraordinary strength; strength considered a bizarre talent for ponies, a chance event of magical ability, as Halfwing understood. She didn't need their strength, levitating the spear with enough speed was easy enough with the energy she was slowly draining from all the ponies around her.
She sighed and dropped the fifth spear. Solid iron, the highest quality Marina could afford, still bent under the force needed to pierce the dragon's hide. Even without natural talents, adult stallions could shake, even break, trees and stones with their kicks.
Where ponies lacked in magic, their musculature excelled. But even under that natural amount of stress, the lance bent out of shape. If she put the full force equal to what Grain could have done, she didn't expect the spear to even resemble itself after the impact.
"Purifying seems to have made it softer," Marina commented, picking up the weapon. "Everything I've learned about how ponies make their weapons say that purifying metals make them stronger."
"Maybe there's a point where that stops being the case," Halfwing said. "I'm fairly certain our abilities with magic have made your techniques... too perfect. Copper is made stronger with other metals, right?"
Marina nodded. "You think there's a material that can make iron stronger?"
Halfwing flashed a smile to the drone. "Yes, and would it be nice to prove we're Equestria's dominant species if we were able to do what ponies never could? Changing things is our speciality, after all."
"I'll head back to the shop then," Marina sighed, "and listen to the apprentices whine about getting even more work to do."
It was short notice, but the groundskeeper of the Citrus Hills had made a nest-room especially for the Trumoss's eldest daughter and her friend. With very little infrastructure to root them down, the shepherds of the Hills routinely passed dangerously close to the nest, close enough to hear two ponies if they screamed loud enough.
But, even though Spectra's lieutenants were draining them into unconsciousness, not a peep of their struggling made it out of the muffled ball of sticks, furs, and stolen wool.
"If only this place was my first hunting ground," Spectra smiled wistfully. Her captain had given the signal that the family was asleep, a high pitched buzz in the throat far outside the audible range for pony or livestock. He had added a report as well, that the family had so much love for their children he didn't even need to syphon their magic. The magic passing through their bodies was enough to sustain his appetite.
The groundskeeper hovered up to the branch she had perched on, one with a clear view out of the forest and onto Trumoss's home. From where they were, the large estate was like a tiny sketch on a green canvas.
"Nice house," he said, buzzing his wings. "But you're probably not interested in it, are you?"
Spectra shook her head. "It's the stallion living in there that I want."
"Odd little fella," the groundskeeper said, "I brought monsters from more distant lands here to keep ponies away from the nest, but they just seemed to bring him closer. Seen him pick up cockatrice scales and lick them."
"I'm certain he's the one who wrote a journal about wildlife in this area," she said, "or he's least connected to the pony who did. He writes the way, just about. Maybe an apprentice, or maybe he made the journal when he was very young. Either way, I knew some pony like him would be here."
"And what do you plan to do, take biology classes?" The groundskeeper chuckled.
Spectra weathered his joking; being the only Changelings with the mental capacity to do so, it was both as refreshing as it was irritating. She knew the groundskeeper didn't care about her intentions, he was just looking for entertainment. All groundskeepers were like that, so carefree without the Queen watching over their backs they didn't bother themselves with anything.
"Just keep his family alive once we bring them here," she said and turned back to face her drones, fully fed and ready to conduct their mission.
"Sure thing." The groundskeeper huffed and transformed his compound eyes into pony eyes for the sole purpose of rolling them. "Leave the garbage with the groundskeeper. Typical."
Willow unlocked the door. Chk, chok. Spectra and five drones stood immediately outside the door in their own forms. More drones, as birds and racoons, circled the perimeter of the estate, checking on activity outside and in. Silently, she nodded to Willow and hovered in.
They flew throughout the house, their hooves skimming the ground so that the wood floors wouldn't creak. Replacing Willow was an important but preliminary step. The hard part was getting to the younger daughter hastily but without sound. The young Paradise had just moved into her own bedroom now that she was too old to sleep with her parents.
From what Spectra could gather while spying on them, if they had shown up just two weeks earlier, she would have been too close to her parents to kidnap. But now her drones could enter her bedroom without trouble. One of them took her form while the another quickly wrapped her blanket around her face. Spectra opened the window.
Very quickly, Paradise started flailing her limbs when they picked her up, but with four drones restraining each limb, they quickly and silently pulled her out of the house. Weak from lack of air, Spectra trusted that her drones could carry her back to the nest without her supervision.
The new Paradise motioned for Willow to go back to her room. There, Spectra waited inside Willow's closet while the youngest daughter grabbed her father's attention.
"Huh... ngh..." he moaned, struggling to wake up. "What is it, sweetheart?"
"I heard something scratching on the window downstairs," she told him.
"It's probably just the foxes coming out to play, you know they never come inside," he said groggily.
Paradise stomped her hooves. "No, it's scarier this time. Please, daddy, go see it with me."
"Okay," he chuckled and slid out of his bed slowly, "daddy's here to chase away the big bad wolf."
Willow and Spectra moved swiftly into the parent's bedroom as soon as Paradise took her father to the kitchen. Taking the wife would be harder, an adult was too hard to restrain quietly, and Trumoss was already downstairs, blocking the exit. The only chance was to catch her unaware and knock her out.
Spectra slithered her tongue into the mare's mouth to taste for the strongest current of magic. Willow held her mother down while Spectra drained her magic rapidly. The sudden shock would've been enough to kill a pony, but with her tongue so deep in the mare's throat, Spectra could taste to moment she slipped toward death and stopped before it happened.
Using a quick burst of magic to strengthen herself, Spectra and Willow picked up the mare and pushed her out of a window. A few of the drones that had been posted to guard the perimeter waited for them, hovering just below the window to catch the mother and take her back to the nest.
Spectra ran her mind through the magic she tasted from the mother, using the sensation to turn herself into a copy of her. Willow hurried back into her own room and Spectra, now Allure Bramble, scurried back into bed to await her husband's return.
"See, it was just one of the animals that come out at night." Trumoss walked up the stairs with more strength in his step. His daughter's prattling had erased the tired stallion he was before.
"The racoons weren't scary," Paradise giggled happily, "they were actually kind of cute."
"Yes, well, don't go too close if you ever see one," he said. "I can't begin to describe the infections I've gotten from their bites. Nearly died once, actually."
"You did?" she asked, amazed.
"But that's a story for later," he quickly added, "right now you need to go to bed."
Paradise listened and hurried back under her blanket, which the drones had returned through the window in her room. Trumoss sighed, tiredness returning to his voice, and slipped back into bed with his wife.
"Did I wake you up?" he asked.
Allure replied with a sleepy grunt. "Racoon?"
"Just one of those silly things," he huffed, kissing his wife on the neck. "She's so much like you sometimes. Jumpy at everything." He poked her in the ribs to prove his point, but she was still too asleep to notice. He tried again, and this time she brushed his hoof away.
"Stop," she groaned, "it."
Trumoss smiled and obliged his wife, but drew a little closer in the process. He put his lips on the top of her neck and traced his way down her spine, nibbling on her smooth coat and soft skin. Huddled up tightly with his wife, he stayed like that the rest of the night, revelling in the scent he had known for twenty years but never ceased to be enraptured by.
Esilis wrapped up another bag of cheese for Mezza.
Outside, muddy hoofs squelched along the wooden walkways as farmers and fishers bought new tools for the coming floods. In the countryside, farms had begun to see damp soil, including the one Marina had bought.
"Thought you weren't staying around for long," Esilis said.
"I've only been here for half a season," Mezza answered, smelling the spice-scented cheese. "Studying the intricacies of villages and ponies isn't something that can be done in a few weeks."
But she really would have liked it was faster. After her drone had replaced a flower merchant and took his dragon-sneeze flowers, she realized they would be useless. The flowers wilted after a few days, and she still needed her weapon against the dragon's hide.
Buying the farm and its trees to grow the dragon-sneeze flowers was the only way to keep a constant and fresh supply. But Mezza hated farming, she thanked her luck that spring flooding had come just in time to help the flower buds bloom.
"Well, I'm glad you've stayed this long," Esilis said, "Marina's been absorbed in her work ever since she came back from her trip to Ironmarsh. I don't think she expected this much."
Mezza raised a brow. "Why's that?"
"We thought she'd be away for a while," she answered, checking the door to make sure there weren't other customers waiting. "Ironmarsh is pretty far, and she was planning on rebuilding Marblestop's iron business by working with the ponies in Ironmarsh. Whatever she told them must have been really convincing, cause she was back only a week later with ships full of ore."
Halfwing had to stifle a knowing chuckle. Moving Marina out of Riverfork may have been her sister's plan to reduce suspicions when she finished her hunt, but it seems the lieutenant was too skilled at being a Changelings. Manipulation, bribery, blackmail, replacement, there were so many ways Halfwing could imagine the lieutenant taking over an iron business. It was an emboldening fact to know that living among ponies, her species excelled beyond even their own expectations.
"Well, I should get going," Mezza said, taking her order of cheese. "Unfortunately, the tools I ordered are some of the things keeping Marina busy. Hopefully, she'll be done with them and you can go on being friends."
The spear bent as it stabbed into a tree, but returned to its shape without warping. A step in the right direction, but from how floppy the spear was, Halfwing knew it wouldn't hold up to the dragon's hide. Even the soft joints would be too sturdy for a spear like that. But it was getting somewhere.
"How'd you make this?" She asked Marina.
The lieutenant shrugged. "I didn't. Some smiths in the Marblestop district did.
"How'd you get them to give you this iron?"
"I was talking to Voxa when she mentioned you," Marina said. "We have a history. When Princess Spectra wore this form Voxa was a close ally. That letter you sent was part of her larger plan to restore her village, and when I said I was working on a project for you, she felt inclined to help."
"So, you've been working on mixtures of iron tirelessly, but it was the ponies who made the first step?" Halfwing grumbled and pouted. She had just bought cheese to celebrate the fact her species was superior, and now the point seemed moot.
"Y-yes," Marina stuttered, casting her eyes down, "but I can perfect it now. I've been trying mixes of iron with silver and nickel, but ponies simply leave small amounts of carbon in their iron to make this metal. Their methods are primitive because they only have hooves. Using levitation alone I was able to control the carbon impurities to a much finer degree."
Halfwing sighed and massaged her temple. "Okay, fine. Just get it done before the flowers show." She gestured to the bright orange buds on the branches of her trees. "After eavesdropping on farmers at the market, it sounds like we have a week or two before the trees are in full bloom. We're attacking that dragon once they are, so my weapon better be done."
Marina bowed her head. "Of course, princess. I'll drop all the other jobs and focus on this task."
The orange petals were in bloom, and shepherds herded their livestock to the riverbanks where the floods brought down cold glacial water to the grassy shores for evening grazing.
On a day like that, Allure's husband worked tirelessly in his study, staring at monster parts. She touched a place on her collarbone where he had nibbled her the night before. She left one much the same on his two night ago. All to get the lovestruck stallion distracted enough.
Allure stopped her sewing and opened her closet, taking out the stolen notes she hid in a small linen pouch. They were copies, of course. Trumoss was too observant not to notice missing notes, but even in her own writing not much of it made sense. He talked about cells, fibrous structures, mutations, enzymes, and other things she had no knowledge of.
She guessed his equipment broke organs down into smaller parts, but nothing in the sketches resembled anything that she had seen before. Spectra boiled on the inside, staring dumbfounded at the pages. Some of it sounded like the ramblings of a mad pony.
It's like looking through a portal to a new, tiny world.
What did that sentence even mean? Fives days and none of her drones, not even the groundskeeper, could decipher what his notes were talking about. She went downstairs and prepared dinner for the family. Paradise and Willow were good, of course, eating their mother's cooking on time, but Trumoss was still wrapped up in his lenses and experiments by the time it had gotten dark.
Allure heated up a cup of tea for her husband and stalked into his study, lightly tapping on the door to let him know she was around.
"You missed dinner again," she said, worry in her voice. "Are you okay? Hungry?" She placed the tea on a small corner of the table, the one place he left clear for her late-night gifts.
He looked away from the lens, the thing he called a micro-eye, and sipped the tea. "Oh, that's good." Trumoss got up from his chair and stretched, giving Allure a light kiss on the cheek. "Sorry I've been so distracted lately. I'm so close to working out how to control the mutagenic process. But the enzymes are fickle, and one wrong condition can destroy the monster mutagens."
Allure stared at her husband, unsure of what to say. She still wasn't sure what function his mutagens had, or why enzymes were so difficult to work with. But, she returned his kiss with a firm one on the lips, reassuring him that she was there for him.
"Paradise keeps talking about rainbow oranges," she chuckled. "Are you making promises you can't keep?"
"I can keep them," he said, wrapping a hoof around her neck and caressing down to her back. "Maybe not oranges, but if my process is perfected, I could make a new strain of fruits that express all the possible pigmentation."
She raised a brow. Was that really it, colours? She wanted to scream internally if it turned out Trumoss only cared about using monster parts to make trees prettier.
"But why apples, why not change flowers like monkshood?" she asked.
Trumoss coughed a laugh of surprise. "The deadly poisonous flower? No thanks, I'd rather not make any augmentations to that."
"Are you sure?" Allure smiled at him then lifted up the tea and took a sip from it herself. "The flower is really pretty, and they bloom in the forests anyway."
Trumoss scoffed, breathing deeper. "Ponies didn't nickname it wolfsbane for nothing. How else do you think we avoid wolves from the forest?"
"Oh, I see," she said, her amber eyes widening at her husband. "That recipe was for wolves. No wonder it's taking so long to knock you down."
Trumoss cleared his throat and furrowed his brow at her. "Wh-what are you talking about?"
She glanced down at the tea. "You didn't really think your work wouldn't attract attention from us, did you? The Changeling hive is always looking for the upper hand."
Trumoss backed away, stumbling as his stomach turned and convulsed. He fell on his back at the door, clutching his chest as his heart raced. "Honey, what's happening?"
Allure glazed her eyes over, replacing them with deep-blue compound eyes that stared unblinkingly at him. She hooked a hoof under the stallion and dragged him out into their foyer. Trumoss crawled on the tile flooring and propped himself up against the couch, but his blood shifted as he got up, and it dizzied him until he fell again.
Allure dropped her act, shedding her flesh and burning it up in a blaze of green to reveal chitinous black underneath. Trumoss didn't believe what he saw. Plates of natural black armour glimmering under the rising moon's light, pupilless blue eyes, fangs that glistened with starved saliva, she really was what she said.
Trumoss's lip quivered. "How long?"
Spectra chuffed at him. "Don't let your wife hear that. I don't think she'll like that you couldn't tell the difference between us. A few days, five I think, but my count might be off."
He turned his head to the stairs. "My kids, are they-"
"Ah, the ever important question of one's progeny," she smiled. "Maybe that's why I'm so messed up, I had a mother who didn't care if I lived or died." Spectra whistled with a high-pitched buzz of her throat and wings. Windows opened, then tumbling and shouting from the who girls.
Trumoss panicked and got on his hooves despite the poison kicking around in his gut. Spectra cast a wave of magic over him and he tumbled back down as if his legs had turned to lead. "What are you going to do to them?"
She didn't answer, she simply gestured for him to look to the stairs as her drones brought down Paradise and Willow, bound in rope. They were tossed by their father's hooves, and Spectra let go of her spell to allow him to rush to their aid.
"Are you two hurt?" He asked, checking over their bodies for bruises and untying their bonds. The two stared at him, panicked.
"What's going on daddy?" asked Paradise, clutching her father.
He caressed her mane. "I don't know, sweetie, but I'm going to everything I can to fix it."
He reached out to his elder daughter to check on her too, but Willow just laughed in his face. "You're pathetic, dad. I thought you'd be smart enough to figure it out by now."
Her flesh flaked away into green magic as Spectra's captain regrew his true form. "But maybe I shouldn't be too surprised, after all, you're a father who didn't even notice his kids suddenly eating dinner on time."
"Willow?" Trumoss gasped. He checked on Paradise and recoiled. Black pits, where her eyes used to be, shined green as muscle and ichor stitched itself back together from the inside. Paradise reworked her inner organs, spurting droplets of blood that evaporated into green magic.
His baby girl's face stripped its own skin bare, melting away softness as a rough black carapace tore through her cheeks and lips and nose and neck. Her grip felt like bones, prickling his skin as she gripped tighter.
"No, oh gods no," Trumoss slouched back, sobbing.
His breathing tightened even more from the poison but he didn't care. Red-eyed and crying he faced Spectra. "What did you do to them? Tell me where my family is!"
She knelt down and bushed her cheek against his, breathing her voice into his ears. "You'll do what I tell you because even if you don't realize it, your family loves you very much."
"All that love," she lapped up a bit of drool as she worked up her own appetite, "is something I can't stop the others from feeding on. Meaning right now, your wife and daughters are being drained of their magic, ravaged and ravished violently by dozens of my drones."
Trumoss screamed and struggled to fight back, but his muscles had given up fighting. As much as he wanted to make Spectra give him back his family, he was powerless to stop the poison ruining his body. She covered up his sobs by stuffing a hoof into his mouth as she licked clean the tears from his face.
Spectra clicked at one of her drones and they brought her the copies of the notes. "Explain this, now. I want to know everything you've been working on." Trumoss picked up the papers and scanned them over. Even in his condition he still recognized his work.
"I can't," he said, coughing harder and breathing shorter.
Spectra sighed and channelled a stream of magic through her horn. She kept her focus on one sensation, the bond she felt with her captain. He was not only strong and capable on the hunt, but he had gathered a massive pack under her direct command, half of which was still back in the hive. Looking around at the vast number she had on the hunt proved she and her pack were worthy of inheriting the hive, and that pride was the positive emotion she used to heal Trumoss.
"Right now I'm keeping the poison from killing you," she told him, "but I'm not reversing its damage, only stopping it. You do what I say or you die, and we'll just take your mares with us as our livestock."
He nodded and slowly stood up, leading Spectra to his study room. He looked at the papers she had copied and started explaining his research from there.
While her drones were scribbling down notes, Spectra listened to Trumoss's quivering explanation. She was frustrated, he had already been given protection against poison and a promise to have his family back, what more did he need? Listening to him talk was painstaking, as he constantly stuttered and needed water.
"Just hurry up," Spectra said, nudging him over to his equipment. "What is this for?"
"Looking at cells," he said. "All living things are made of them, they're little compartments of organic material, the smallest functioning aspects of life."
Spectra looked at him sceptically, pulling him aside to see for herself. She levitated one of the samples under the lens, using the light of her horn to illuminate the fluid. She stared, unsure of what she was supposed to be watching for until a speck floated by the lens. A few more followed, shaped like stretched out balls, some with worm-like tails that helped them swim around.
"We..." she said, confused, "we're made of these things?"
"Yes," Trumoss nodded, "well, not those kinds exactly. There are thousands of different cells, the ones that make up our bodies act more like brick and mortar, not independent creatures."
Spectra internalized the information, imagining little square bricks linking together to form a thin membrane or skin, layering over each other to make muscle and chitin and organs. She picked up another stack of papers on the desk, a list of mixtures and measurements, one word of which she recognized.
"What are these mutagens you keep writing about?" She showed him the papers for reference.
Trumoss reached for a jar with a preserved manticore gland. "Monsters are somehow fusions of animals that already exist, animals that under no regular rules of biology should be able to exist in the same body with the same conditions. But they do exist and thrive easily in the wild, both of which I think is due to components in their bodies that have altering effects on normal animals."
"Alter how?" Spectra stepped closer. Trumoss tensed, but he didn't back down.
"I don't know what the mutagens are, not the same way I understand cells, but in solutions of mutagens I've been observing animal tissue gaining and losing functions, growing rapidly, and readily accepting cells from other animals to add it to itself. That's how monsters came to exist, I believe. They're animals disfigured by mutagens in their body."
Spectra lifted up the list again, counting up the individual names of the mutagens Trumoss had tested. She estimated over fifty individual components, but it was clear the effects of combinations, and combinations of those combinations, were endless.
She was fortunate that Trumoss had been planning to share his findings with less informed members of his kind. The explanations were clear, and the descriptions of how to refine a monster mutagens were straightforward, albeit repetitive.
"Make me a batch of as many different kinds of mutagens as you have, enough of each to affect a seed." Spectra ordered Trumoss. "I don't have a time limit, but every day you waste is one that my drones can have fun with their family."
"You mean, you'll give them back?" Hope glistened in his eyes. "It'll be a day or two, I promise! Everything I need is here, I might even have extra samples of some of the mutagens. But I beg you, spare them these few days, I-I-I'll work... as hard as I can, I'll work!"
Trumoss's speech flustered. His body was probably starting to heat up and itch as Spectra channelled more magic into him to clear out the rest of the monkshood she had used.
"Rest tonight, husband," she switched to his wife's voice one last time. "You can start first thing tomorrow morning." Trumoss stumbled, landing the side of his rib on the floor, mouth dribbling saliva as his body panicked, unsure of what to think of all the magic forcing its way around him.
Spectra smiled down on him. She wanted those mutagens quickly, but just in case he worked hard enough to finish in a day, she wanted to take the night for herself and see how good Willow really tasted.
Between Marblestop and Riverfork laid fast swaths of forested hills and mountains. Teary-eyed morning wept dew drops on prickly pines, slickening soil. The sky's waist was a pinkish blossom, a mirror to the crates of flowers pulled by sleepy apprentices.
"Why are we coming this far, Master Marina?" asked a young filly, her apron still clean since she had been brought to the workshop solely to help with the production of river-iron, the unique alloy that made up the flesh of every spear stored inside the carts they pulled.
Marina huffed, falsely acting as if her load was as hard to pull. "It's a request from a business partner. I didn't get this high up in the metalworking industry without making a few expensive promises."
"We're closer to Marblestop at this point," moaned another apprentice. The young stallion, like most other earth-ponies who became blacksmiths, had a back chiselled from iron muscles. He pulled the weight of three carts by himself, easily as strong as Ferron, the stallion who Marina had originally worked with when she first came to Riverfork.
"Thus, they are 'expensive' promises, Wrought Iron," she said, gazing up the side of the mountain they were told to meet at. "If you ever learn how to hammer a spearhead straight, maybe you'll start a business and figure out what I mean."
"Or, I could just take over your workshop when you retire," he said, chuckling.
The filly kicked a rock at him. "Sun Birch was her first apprentice, do you think you have a chance?"
"I would if you'd stop hitting my head," he snapped back, "a smith has to be clever to measure the ore mixtures correctly."
"Oh, in that case, you're definitely not taking over," Marina interjected, laughing at her apprentice's expense.
They approached a unicorn and a farmer sitting on a log by the dirt path through the mountainside. Halfwing, or Mezza Forte, rather, waited with her companion for Marina's apprentices to haul the supplies to them.
"Everything's in here, right?" Mezza asked, looking over the materials. She levitated one of the spears, testing their balance, weight, and ability to spring back into shape. Any other shaft would snap against the dragon's scales. There were large spools of iron chains beside the spears.
Mezza looked to Marina.
"Just in case," she said. "You never know what you might need when you're killing a dragon."
The morning peeked into the top of the egg-nest where Weizenfauer laid. It was some six or seven hundred years ago he had hatched here, but the scent was still a powerful memory in his mind. The river's cold, moist air encountered the warm living air of the forest. Thousands of small birds and mammals made the forest warm enough for water vapour to settle in the still breeze as forest fog.
Weizenfauer rolled over, his hardgut, a rugged organ that sat between his second stomach and liver, was bloated with clinking jewels he had eaten from a Riverfork merchant. The stallion was desperate after weeks of raids on other shipments. But sending the last of his riches to a buyer in the Marblestop settlement to gain some meagre profit only sealed his fate.
Smoothing out his scales, they glistened like jewels themselves, stronger than they had ever been after so many gems. The same material that gave gemstones their hard and sparkling properties went into making the most enduring armour in the world, natural or otherwise. Weizenfauer stared at their colours, the deep ocean blue he worked so hard to keep healthy.
A few of the many little birds that lived out in the mountain's forest entered the mouth of the nest. The worm-eaters and cricket-catchers, ponies had many names for their countless species, but Weizenfauer only cared that they could clean his scales.
"Many good eats?" chirped a flower-yellow bird as she rested on his wing-joint.
"I can feel them biting under my scales," he answered. "I don't bother counting how many annoyances I have in my life."
"Much problems," she said, pulling out a blood-red worm that had wriggled its way under a scale on his back.
Though they didn't understand dragon-tongue well, Weizenfauer couldn't deny himself the pleasure of talking to his cleaners. Birds were cleverest among the forest creatures, much more than the idiotic deer who knew four or five dragon calls, all cries for mercy, or derivatives thereof. Forest birds didn't hold a candle to the woven poetry of songbirds in the south, but for a decent conversation, he wouldn't judge too harshly.
"How does the outside look today?" He shuddered with relief as a few other birds lifted his scales with their fine talons and removed the parasites that had stretched open the leathery under-scale and exposed his softer skin.
The flower-yellow chirped as she popped a cricket that had nested in an uneven scale. "Coupling now and soon, spring arriving. Much time spending on love and dancing songs."
"Oh?" Weizenfauer opened an eye to her. "I plan on staying here for a while. Should I expect to feed a few more little ones next year?"
She hung her head and toyed around with a few more loose scales, arranging them into their proper place. "Passed time no songs for me. Not sure soon."
"This year will be different," he told her, lifting his head to expose lecherous insects that had taken root on his neck. "A bird who dines at a dragon's scales should be considered royalty."
He laughed. "Ha! Maybe I just want some hatchlings of my own. If the Dragon Lord hadn't taken my nest and mate, maybe I would have some by now. They'd be breathing their first big flames by now."
"Much mountains, much caves," muffled the little yellow bird as she slurped down a few thirsty scale-lice. They were a relative species to the lice mammals suffered from in their coats, though Weizenfauer wished dragons were afflicted by the same kind that ponies dealt with. Scale-lice and scale-ticks, enriched by dragon blood, could grow to the size of cherries and grapes.
The moment they were down the bird's gullet, the pain he had grown used to vanished, and the lack of pain felt just as shocking as a sudden bite.
"Tail clean!" chimed some birds that had been tending to that area. His arms and legs felt lighter too, once the birds were done with them. He stretched out his whole body, rising to all fours and moving with relief. Ready for the day, he climbed up the nest's shelves into the neck of his cave.
His eyes, to the new light and smells of the surface, sharpened his senses. The pupils, once wide to conform to the dark mountain heart, constricted into slits under the brighter rays striking the neck of his cave. His ears opened to let all the sounds clamour in, improved by the echoes of the stone walls.
The airways in his skull, which ran like tunnels to a cavern of sensitive scent receptors, gave him all the knowledge of the forest. He smelled the trees, the deer, the squirrels scurrying along soil topped with mushrooms and fungal spores. Some twenty or thirty miles away he could smell the ashes of yesterday's hunt, the meadows still smouldering.
Nearly a hundred miles away, from the weakness of its scent, a large trade ship headed for Riverfork had hauled up a large river mammal, butchering it for the dogs that accompanied the sailors. As good as gems were, Weizenfauer's appetite for real meat churned his stomach.
But among the deer, the mixed scent of ponies irked him. There was something among them that he didn't recognize. It did a good job of hiding from him, he wouldn't have noticed they weren't ponies if he hadn't climbed up from the egg chamber of the cave. The great blue dragon retreated down into his cave, if his mystery creature was headed toward him, he'd burn them the moment they stuck their heads down the neck of his home.
Halfwing peered around the mouth of the cave they found at the peak of the mountain. It wasn't nearly as large as the entrance to the hive, but still, the roof of the mouth stretched as high the biggest manses in Marblestop. The climb was hard on the young ponies, but in time they caught up, dragging their carts laden with flowers and chains.
"Why is a student from the Range studying out here?" asked Wrought Iron. "I heard you were in town to study local ponies."
"I have private interests," Mezza Forte said, "and I'll be damned if I travelled all the way here only to miss one of Equestria's natural wonders."
The young stallion looked around. "The woods? You can see trees anywhere!" He threw a hoof up in frustration.
"Quiet," commanded the tall farmer who stuck close to Mezza Forte. "We're not here to see trees."
"The dragon is inside," she whispered, breathing in the air.
The filly apprentice, further behind and catching her breath, stuck up her ears and stepped back her hoof. "You mean you tracked the dragon and went toward its lair?"
"Yes," answered Mezza.
"Are you crazy?" asked Wrought Iron.
"Yes."
She picked up one of the river-iron spears and levitated one of the bundles of chains. The farm pony lifted a crate of the dragon flowers and hoisted them to the mouth of the cave and kicked them in. The crate crashed against the back of the cave, but there weren't as many flowers that piled up as he expected.
"This is suicide!" The filly hurried back down the mountain before Marina caught up with her.
"She's from the Range and a student," she told her apprentice. "That means she's travelled all over Equestria. We have mutual contacts in Ironmarsh, but she can give us so much more than that."
"But we'll die," pleaded the filly.
"Not if we follow her plan. Trust me, Damasca, I wouldn't put either of you in danger."
A rainbow of birds left the cave as Mezza and her companion smashed a few more crates of flowers down the neck of the cave. The pieces of wood that clunked down the tunnel told them that the dragon had made his home much deeper than just a shallow hole in a mountain.
"We might not be able to flush him out," Mezza said, looking at what they had left. If the caverns inside the mountain were too big, throwing flowers might not be enough to irritate the dragon.
From her horn, she shot out a beam of light. The flowers they threw in were scattered around a hole that looked too narrow for a dragon to pass through. But the stench of its scales couldn't be clearer to Mezza.
She entered the cave, spear levitating and ready to pierce the dragon's scales if he showed his face. The neck of the cave had large footholds in it, wide protruding ledges that a dragon could use to pull itself out of the cave when he wanted, but spaced apart enough that creatures without keen eyesight would fall to their death before they reached the end.
"Stuff some flowers into your pockets," she told the others as she exited the cave. "The tunnel's deep, I'll have to levitate you all down there."
Marina's horn kept a low glint to mark the ledge she stood on while Mezza floated down her two apprentices. They forced themselves to stay calm, though both their breaths were shaking the deeper they went. The last rays of sunlight were above them, but even this deep the grey stone walls still revealed the deep gashes left by the dragon whenever he climbed out of his home.
"Those look like it could take my head off," worried Wrought Iron. Damasca, however, jammed a hoof into his ribs to remind him to stay quiet. The tunnel ran deep, and probably carried every whispered sound to the end of the dragon's nest.
Once they descended deep enough, however, the surface breeze that carried cold dew-spotted air down into the mountain turned around, becoming warm pulses. The dragon's breath choked the ponies with the smell of seared meat.
Mezza paused their descent. The smell of flesh cleared away and the rising breath of the dragon smelled like a storm, like lightning splitting the air, as pungent as a hot summer's day. A fear kicked in her prime instincts and Mezza sealed off the tunnel with a barrier of magic just as the cavern below turned blue.
A torrent of purple-blue fire danced around Mezza's defence, and even with the protection, it was impossible to prevent all the heat from fleeing up the neck of the cave. She maintained the shield around them as the dragon's flames retreated. The scalding air remaining in the cave was no doubt enough to cook them alive.
"If the heat can get through, what about the fire?" Damasca pulled at Marina, urging a retreat. The unicorn stared at the bold flames, admitting to terror, but stood fast. "Fire, even an earth pony can start it with flint and tinder. Mezza's magic will keep us safe."
Mezza turned to the farmer. "Use one of the spears as an anchor for a chain. I can't levitate us and keep the shield, we'll have to rappel down."
"This is insane!" shouted Wrought Iron.
The mountain shook beneath their hooves, and below the clear, glass-like veil of Meeza's barrier peered a wide-eyed azure dragon.
Thundering laughter shivered the mountain stone. "Ha-ha! Thieves, assassins! Flee as you wish 'fore you die!"
The apprentices turned to be like hapless frogs, hopping up at ledges too far to reach. The dragon's maw a crevice, it opened wide and inhaled, drawing them down and down, ever deeper into flesh-red walls with a hungering tongue and ivory pillars above and below.
Mezza broke the barrier before they were sucked away into the dragon's mouth and put all her magic into a pushing wave strong enough to push the dragon's head aside as the ponies fell down the cavern, their flowers and equipment falling with them.
As he whipped his head back to face his prey, carts of crates of orange-petaled flowers cracked against his armoured dome, spilling pollen across his blue-scaled face. Instantly the dragon roared, pulling his head in violent sways to shake off the plants.
"Sick fiends, what are you that dares't harm a dragon?" Hellish fire trickled from his fangs. "Leave my home or you will burn!"
Mezza threw up a barrier of magic, but not around herself and the ponies this time. The dome shimmered, encasing the dragon's head and spitting flames back in his face. It burned off the flowers, but instead of relieving his irritation, the smoke carried the pollen's curse into the dragon's eyes and enraged him further.
Marina levitated one of the spears and aimed for the belly of the dragon. But he turned when she launched the weapon, knocking it off like his scales were made of the same hard stone as the mountain. Mezza tried to slow him down with magic; his scales reflected her spells like a polished copper plate.
Behind pillar of stone that touched both roof and floor, Mezza found the apprentices hiding in fear. "Get out there and draw his attention!" she yelled, pushing them out of their safety toward him.
His eyes, reflecting smouldering petals, shimmered red in the dark. The ponies froze with fear, but their whimpering and adrenaline were enough to alert the dragon's senses.
Jaw and teeth widened for Damasca. The young mare screamed. If not for the farmer lashing a chain around one of the dragon's horns, she would have been swallowed on the spot. The dragon turned to the stallion, spraying a hot jet of fire. The stallion jumped away and kicked a spear at the dragon's eye. Thick, leathery skin folded over the eye and deflected the weapon.
Wrought Iron dragged Damasca with him as they tried to get behind the dragon. Their master and her friends were determined to fight, but the two of them had nothing to offer. They ducked under beams of magic that reflected off the dragon's scales. Small steps along the side of the cavern looked like a way out, or, at least, a path to a safer position.
They clamoured up, hurriedly avoiding the wide-sweeping tail that could fell a tree. Small scratch marks along the stone marked out a direction to the top of the shelf, a flat space where the ponies had to crouch to fit into, but was also above the fighting and away from the dragon's sight.
All they could see was the coming and going light of the magic and fire. The cavern lit up in bursts, showing parts at a time. There were a few other crevices in the walls, Damasca noticed. She nudged Wrought Iron and pointed to one such crevice near the neck of the cave. Where the tunnel opened up was not a flat drop. Though uneven, mineral deposits sloped up, possibly enough for ponies to climb up if they needed to. It wasn't an escape, but there they'd be further from the fight.
They crawled toward it. However, the dragon snapped up at them before they could get anywhere.
"Hiding in my memory?" he exclaimed to them. "Where my siblings grew up? You defile their origins with that filthy stench you carry!" His tongue slithered into the crevice and swept Damasca off her hooves. Wrought Iron was stuck close by, pulling back on the young mare.
He did his best to kick the dragon's tongue, but he may as well have kicked a brick wall. Damasca slid out of the crevice, tumbling many times down to the floor. Wrought backed away, but the tongue was longer than he expected. It stretched after him and pulled the young stallion into the hungry teeth of the dragon.
And though pain shot through his entire body, Wrought Iron kept kicking to push to free himself. It was useless, of course. The dragon twisted his head and Wrought Iron's leg twisted with him, tearing off his body in a wet, crunching krchrkch and throwing his body across the cave, slapping the corpse against a wall. A long trail of blood was all that remained in the crevice.
Their distraction was enough for Marina and Mezza to get hits in. Each carrying a spear, they thrust into the back of the dragon's knees. The joints were the few places without scales, but the weapons still flexed from the strain between the Changelings' strength and the dragon's thick hide.
But nature always gave in to magic. Fueled by unnatural energy, Marina and Mezza propelled the spears through the dragon's skin. Inside was as soft as any other animal. They let go and blasted the wound with shockwaves of magic, pushing the spears to the bones of the knee.
The screech that followed shocked Mezza's body like a thunderclap. Her ears, far more sensitive than a normal pony's, went hot. She was completely disoriented, and could only feel the blood running from her head. But her captain was still lively as ever. Clutching her ears, she staggered back and watched as he dragged long chains and flung them around the dragon's neck. Without his knees, the giant toppled easily.
Mezza focused on her ears, stiffening some internal component to become more resilient, though it dulled her hearing below that of a pony's. She hurried to pick up another spear off the ground but stopped short when her captain transformed. His skin stretched and stitched itself back together, stretching out into a massive wetland reptile.
The gator was massive, a little bigger than anything in nature. But it was still dwarfed by the dragon. Nevertheless, her captain rushed forward, surprisingly fast for his new size, and snapped after the arms. The dragon pulled himself back, turning his head to blast a jet of fire, but Marina levitated chains to wrap around his jaw. The metal links buckled and snapped, only slowing the dragon for a second, but it was enough for Mezza to thrust a spear between his scales and into his neck.
She felt it pierce, and in a spasm of pain, the dragon stumbled and had to post his weight on an arm. Mezza left the spear and ran, splitting open her chitin as her magic charged her body's flesh. Thick fur sprouted and her fangs turned to lethal daggers, but most impressive of all was the size of her grizzly form. The bear, like her captain's gator, was larger than normal. With all her power she threw her weight on the dragon's supporting arm. His head twisted as Marina shot magic at his eyes. Without a good sense of balance left, Mezza's blow brought the dragon to the ground.
All three Changelings turned back to their own forms, acting quickly with spears and chains. The dragon's limbs were wrapped tightly to the pillars of stone inside the cavern. He was slow to struggle, leaving the scant few soft spots at his joints exposed and pierced by many spears.
Weizenfauer recoiled, curling his tail around his head to cover his eyes and nose from the burning smell of their flowers. It was the one extremity they didn't have enough chains to hold down. But the spears in his back left his muscles torn, and he could do no more to escape than a moth could do to leave a spider's web.
Changelings. He spat a pathetic ball of fire at their name, even if the spear hole in his neck burned when flames danced out in irregular directions. They smelled like ponies, but also not. Something about them didn't quite smell like anything at all.
He watched one of them from under his tail. She, it had been a mare before, tied a scrap of clothing around their pony's legs, using one of their damned spears as a stint. He had felt worse from the parasites that dug under his scales, but only because they nagged him with pain for hours in his sleep. These spears were like no other weapon before them. Thin enough to fit between his scales but still strong enough to pierce his hide, he wondered if ponies had finally discovered some way to stop dragon raids on their villages.
"What's happening?" quivered the young pony. She had survived falling off of his birth-shelf, but had to give up her hind legs to do so. He could smell the blood inside of her, a bone fragment was dangerously close to a major blood channel.
"Where are the other ponies I came with?" she cried.
Weizenfauer grunted as the male Changeling tightened the chains around his wrist. Every time the young mare asked the same question, he could feel the Changeling's irritation. It didn't feel good.
"We already told you, we are those same ponies," he grunted through his teeth.
She shook her head. "Not Marina. What did you do to my master? She's an integral part of Riverfork, ponies will know she's missing!"
"Let me quiet her down," said the other female Changeling, who was tasked with pressing down a spear into Weizenfauer's shoulder blade. "They don't do well with stress. She sounds like she's in shock rather than denial."
"I'll take care of her," said the Changelings making the stint. Weizenfauer knew what a leader looked like, but in their scent, he could tell that the Changeling on his back was senior to the others. Why that one wasn't in charge was a mystery to him.
The leader slowly climbed over the young mare. No, Weizenfauer blinked. She was on the cusp of becoming a mare. More like a filly, her horrified scream hit high notes he had only ever heard in birds. The leader was feeding on her, drawing magic out from the pony's breath and into her horn.
She struggled despite her injuries, but she was tightly bound between the Changeling's thighs. Their torsos pressed against each other, the leader dominating her prey, forcing the pony to submit.
The dragon felt his stomach churn. He had once heard about how Changelings hunted ponies, but this was the first time he could be a witness. It was every bit as grotesque as he imagined and more, disturbing him so much he had to turn his head away. Like every dragon he hoarded gems, but for his meals, he was a generous hunter. He hunted what he needed, and never savoured cruelty. Not like the Changelings. They seemed to revel in torturing their food.
When he opened his eyes, the pony had slumped onto the floor, sobbing quietly as the leader nibbled away at her ear and neck. From moment to moment, the filly churned with pain as another layer of her flesh was peeled off for the Changeling to swallow.
"I haven't properly eaten," she explained after lapping up the pony's blood. "Your magic is the best cut of you, but I can't heal a body from nothing. Just a little bit more, dear. A growing princess needs her food."
Weizenfauer lurched. A princess? The hive had only one queen, he had heard. Bloody and ruthless, the Dragon Lord ordered all dragon kind to stay away from the Changeling hive because of what he saw the Queen could do to a village of ponies.
"Princess, he's started resisting again," said the male. "Can we kill him now?"
She glared up from her meal. "Not a chance, captain."
Rising up on her hooves and trotting gleefully, the princess climbed up to Weizenfauer's back and pushed aside the other female. She knelt down and pressed her mouth against his shoulder blade, her rough chitin against his hard scales, and she tongued cautiously the wound.
"At least you taste good enough," she said, releasing a small spontaneous laugh. Using all her weight she reeled back and slammed the spear deeper into his back, scraping the shoulder blade as she contorted his muscles. Weizenfauer bore the pain with little expression. The spear hurt, but it was a small bite compared to his entire body. He tried to rise, but his joints were helpless, lacking the strength to pull at the chains.
"I first learned how to transform by eating rats and lizards in my hive," she continued to giggle as she tortured him. "My bitch of a mother named me Halfwing, insulting a deformity she caused me to have, effectively exiling me from my sisters. I never had enough food, and some days it took everything I had inside me not to just swallow those little blood pouches whole."
As if to prove her point, the princess dropped back down to the wound and peeled back a scale, giving room for her to gorge on his flesh. Weizenfauer cracked open his jaws as far as the chains around them would allow and ejected a thin stream of fire at the male Changeling in defiance. It caught him off guard, but not enough to let go of the chains.
The deeper she went, the more unbearable the feeling became. "Parasite," he insulted, using the pony's language as a common tongue between them.
"Yes, I am," she sighed happily as a starving pony would at the sight of a feast. She licked her lips clean. "I stripped every animal I was fed down to the bone. Each organ, I watched and learned. I had to keep my prey alive for their magic, after all."
Slowly, she plucked out the scales that had come loose around the dragon's wound. "So when I planned to kill you to save my hunting grounds, I realized something. Killing you would kill your organs, and then I'd gain nothing. But keep you alive..."
The princess threw her head back as she wrapped herself in a green light, purging much of her flesh until all that remained was a large black worm. Weizenfauer didn't recognize the species, but he didn't have to guess what it could do. He twisted his neck and tail, using mainly his weight to force his chains to come loose. He managed to shake off the female Changeling before the male levitated a bundle of flowers and threw them in his face.
The pollen burned his nose and dragged forceful coughs from the dragon's chest. He stumbled back down, crashing his weight against the immovable earth. He refocused his senses on his back, and a recognizable feeling crept into him, but more intensely. The princess was already inside him, rooting around his body to learn how to take a dragon's form.
His eyes darted over to the filly. No wonder they kept her alive, they needed her to sate their appetites while they deconstructed his body. Weizenfauer cursed himself for not killing her when he had the chance, but he didn't show it on his face. No matter what he did now, even if he killed the other two and escaped his bonds, he'd die. The princess was too deep in his back to be pulled out by a bird.
Whatever dread he felt for himself and the pony, he shoved away. He was a great azure dragon, returned to Equestria to claim his home. He would save his strength and think of a way to get the princess out before his own flesh turned the Changeling into an abomination.
Nearing the middle of Spring, the nights became noticeably shorter, the sunset coming much later. Fields and forests teemed with life. Spring was a season of love for many animals. Night-hunting birds and furtive field mice stuck their heads out to the greet their long-awaited night. The Citrus Hills housed critters beyond ponies and their pets, with easy pickings for both prey and predator.
Spectra wiped her lips clean from her feeding session with Trumoss's eldest daughter. The younger and his wife were returned, she had kept that part of their bargain, but he didn't need to know, nor could he know, that her pack still had one of her hunters in his house. How long the mutagen samples would last was not certain. She needed an agent close to Trumoss to continue sending mutagens until she could create drones by herself.
Light-drones hung on the top branches of the nest looking like stars in the night-shrouded forest. They were small ones, their egg sacs about the size of a large beetle, but the Changelings were still bright. Their light wasn't yellowish-green like the light-drones in the Hive, however. Their mutation made them blue, a minor side effect of Spectra's new process. But they were drones, full living drones. Not perfect, but it was a remarkable improvement from the amalgamations of flesh she used to make.
Taking in the sight stirred Spectra's determination again. She spread her wings and flew up to a nest-room the groundskeeper had turned into a workshop for her eggs. Sacs of nutrient fluid, processed from the meat of small game, hummed with magic. Spectra could smell life growing in them before she could see them, the little black specks that she'd have to expand into full organisms.
Think back to your egg-dreams. Spectra recalled her mother's scant lessons on reproducing Changelings. Like healing a wound, she fed her eggs with magic from her memories. Happiness and desire. She dug through her mind and let the most intense memory pick itself out.
A sweet taste washed over her lips when her mind focused on a memory of Lunti. It was a memory of when she had gotten a ball of muscle to grow in her egg sac. One of her first attempts, that day felt like she had finally started catching up with Majesta, who was finally struggling with the same problem.
Even though she had just fed, thinking of her first prey made Spectra salivate as if nothing else could sate her. Lunti wasn't just soft and tender like all the other ponies. Spectra had learned how to navigate the nuances of her body. She knew where Lunti was flexible and what positions hurt, and had become a master at coercing magic out of her body.
Another memory appeared. It was of one of Spectra's most exhausting days. That day she had been so close to creating different organs, even if the lung wasn't supposed to be fused to the stomach. She remembered how she limped back into her pantry and curled up around Lunti.
She woke up her snack by nibbling at where she was most sensitive. The spine, the neck, Lunti stirred awake in a short panic as usual, but she didn't try to escape. They were long past that. Spectra savoured the memory of Lunti's short breaths as she tried to calm her body's natural fear. She nuzzled closer to Spectra on her own, giving up her magic willingly.
Spectra wondered if her prey had finally acknowledged that submission was their only option. As a willing source of magic, she had full protection from the other hunter-drones and ate fresh food taken from the surface. Occasionally, she was even free to play and chat with the other ponies in the Pen.
Spectra opened her eyes, slower and slower. She couldn't believe how long it took for light to return to her eyes. Dawn had come, the purple sky taking on a fleshy-pink hue and her light-drones slowly fading away in their pods. She breathed in the morning air and took in all that the horizon encompassed. And then she smelled her spawn.
One, only one, sac had successfully matured into a hunter-drone. Through the fluid of the egg-sac, she could tell it had an unusually thin carapace. The drone was dark-grey rather than black and had no horn on his head. He was the definition of imperfect, and Spectra couldn't be happier.
She heard a pair of wings buzzing up to meet her. Turning around, she faced the groundskeeper, who immediately shifted his eyes onto the egg.
"Ah, motherhood," he mused. "Sometimes I'm glad drones are sterile. Raising a child isn't for me."
Spectra smirked. "You have that in common with mother."
"Maybe that's the price of loyalty." He landed gently on the nest so he wouldn't disturb the eggs. "I guess that's what makes you a princess, and me just a lowly drone."
He laughed levelled his head down to the egg-sac. The stumpy ball of fluid, sitting on a bed of leaves, came up to his shoulders. The groundskeeper looked more and more interested whenever the drone would twitch or spasm. It was living in the memories imprinted on it by Spectra.
"I've spent almost my entire life out here, away from the hive." He whispered. "I had all but forgotten that we even have young."
Spectra raised a brow at the groundskeeper. "If you want one of your own you could try praying. I hear ponies have fertility spirits that grant old wives miracle children."
"And make that child suffer with me as their parent?" The groundskeeper shook his head and laughed at the thought. "I'm happy to leave the burden of our species on your shoulders."
Spectra smiled, but when she stepped nearer to look at her own creation, a sharp weakness quickly overtook her knees and forced her to sit down.
"Easy now," the groundskeeper stared. "Lost a lot of magic, didn't you? You've been in deep thought all night, by now that mare you kept from the village should be rested for another feeding."
Spectra propped herself up against the wall of the nest. "This hunger's different. It's not just appetite, I feel empty on the inside like there's not enough of me to go around."
"You feel like eating anything in particular?"
Spectra licked her lips and thought for a moment. Not even the memory of Lunti's magic seemed to fit her cravings. No, her mind focused on cheese and meat, material foods. They lacked magic, but maybe it wasn't magic her body wanted.
"What do we have in the traps?"
The groundskeeper shrugged. "The usual rabbit and racoon. The wild boar that fell in one of the pitfalls yesterday might still be alive."
Spectra leaned her back against the wall and slid down to rest. "Good, bring me the boar if it lives, and some rabbits. On the way, tell a drone I need some cheese from the ponies. Even if they don't make their own, I'm sure some pony in Citrus Hills traded for some."
The groundskeeper perked up his wings and hovered out of the nest. "Sure, I'll play errand-colt. I've got nothing else to do right now."
Spectra smirked as he left her to rest and she turned her eyes to her creation. Groundskeeper drones, they were defective hunter-drones, born with unusual independence and an inability to hunt well in groups. She hoped her first drone wouldn't turn out like that. She needed to spawn drones who could fight in her pack. It would be undeniable proof she had the skill needed to become Queen.
Morning breeze carried cold dew from the river through Riverfork. The flooding had reached its zenith and marked the middle of spring. Flowers bloomed on every bush and tree in the town and the countryside, painting the air with scents of nectar and the colour of their bright violet, pink, and orange petals. Buckets of dyes stained the walls of tailor shops. Orange robes had become the popular fashion once Marblestop's patron spirits had become favourites among young ponies.
The exotic flair would die off in a few years, but this year, Marblestop's presence gave Riverfork a burst of energy. Every pony seemed more lively than ever before.
Reiter removed his blinders and greeted the flower-painted rutilant sun cracking through his windowsill. He glanced to his left where Esilis wrapped her wings around his hoof. Her feathers were soft and fine, more delicate than a normal pegasus' feathers on account of their size. For an adult pegasus, they were small, but not so much so that they were like a filly's. Useful little things for handling delicate tools.
He cast his eyes back out the window. Making an obsession with her deformity didn't feel right. Esilis might have accepted her life down from the clouds, but Reiter felt guilt whenever he looked at her wings. Such thoughts made him ask himself why they were together. A few months ago he still smiled on Lunti. They were childhood friends and more. They spent long afternoons together when their fathers would talk about the businesses in Riverfork, catching tadpoles from the river and guessing which duck swimming by the opposite shore would fly over to their side first to eat the crackers sailors threw overboard. What was Esilis compared to that?
He closed his eyes. They knew each other for years, too. But he couldn't help but question if her wings gave her an exotic flair. She deserved some pony to care for her, not some pony who wanted her to look pretty on a pedestal.
But going back to Lunti was impossible now. Being disowned by her father hurt her more than Reiter could repair. That didn't stop him from trying, at first. Even if Lunti slowly avoided talking to him, he still visited her when he could. When she found a townhouse for herself, he helped her move in. He'd buy speciality pies and scented candles from the market by the docks.
However, there was a limit to how much Reiter to take. Lunti rarely smiled around him, and no matter what he did she pushed him away more and more.
"You're awake," Esilis mumbled and pulled herself closer to him. "What are you thinking about."
Reiter closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh spring air creeping through the window. "My father wants me to start looking for more investments. With how well Marina's workshop has turned out, I think he wants the family to get into the river trade."
"Mmh," Esilis kissed the back of his neck. "Think about that later. I'm thinking about what we should have for breakfast."
"I love how you focus on the important things in life," he smiled and turned around in bed, planting a kiss on her cheek.
"I can get some biscuits and tea ready."
"How about something heavier? Worked up an appetite last night."
"Himbere's Boulangerie, then. A couple of fruit pies and muffins to start the day."
Reiter leaned up and slid out from under the covers. "How you manage to make me happy all the time, I'll never know."
They crawled out of bed and got dressed. Since they started being together, Esilis had been spending nights in Reiter's townhouse. Technically it was still in his father's name, but he spent most of his time in the town hall, so they didn't have to worry about privacy.
The outfits his father's valet picked out for the two of them were a suit and dress made of matching green cotton with gold and orchid accents to compliment the spring. Reiter wore a broach of silver and emerald in the shape of an eight-spoke carriage wheel. Esilis had a necklace to compliment, though hers was specially made by Marina into the shape of a ram's head, with two large emeralds for its eyes.
While they laced up their clothes, Reiter pulled on a cord of rope by the door to ring a bell in the kitchen. In a minute, his father's valet, Goodfrund, waited for them outside the room.
"Hm, I knew I made the right decision," the valet said as he looked at the two of them.
"Feels like it," Esilis said.
He nodded approvingly. "Will you be going out this morning?"
"Himbere's Boulangerie," Reiter said.
"The Casual or Cruiser?" Goodfrund picked out two of Reiter's favourite carriages. The Cruiser was his own custom design, lined with enchanted crystals imported from northern villages and built by the best crafters from Marblestop. Even on cobbled roads, it drove silently, while a weather barrier spell created from a web of fifty tiny crystals kept the carriage's wood dry, even during heavy storms. At his father's request, Reiter also asked Marina to add plates of iron between the wood panels, allowing him to add special gems on each end of the axle that reduced the weight and friction caused by the heavier carriage.
Reiter and his father had become one of the richest families in Riverfork, thanks to Marina's business and her ties to Marblestop. Even with the dragon's recent attacks, they still had the status, wealth, and power to direct the village. But, today was not a day to show off. Esilis was humble through and through. She enjoyed finer living, but to a point. Taking the Cruiser out on a simple breakfast was not necessary. The Casual was one of his father's private carriages; it was enough.
"Not trying to make a scene today," Reiter told the valet. "Get a driver for the Casual."
"Very measured of you, sir."
He turned and smiled at Esilis. "I had a feeling you'd be a good influence, miss Esilis. I'll get the chef to get you two some tea while the driver pulls your carriage from the garage. With such good weather today, I don't expect it'll be more than twenty minutes."
The dragon's bindings loosened, finally. Weizenfauer heaved his heavy arms and his burdened tail and his cumbersome legs, but he could not move. Blood loss aside, he felt his strength sapped by the other two Changelings, who in their snake forms pumped what remained of his blood with toxins that kept him lethargic. Taking ten times the lethal dose for a family of ponies, Weizenfauer suspected he wasn't completely paralyzed was because his liver was mostly untouched by the Changeling inside him.
Slithering out of a vein as a plump leech, a green light wrapped around the creature and she grew from it, covered in viscera. Halfwing climbed out of the gash in the dragon's back and licked her lips clean. She wore a wide smile, one too strong to go away even though her hooves were slick with blood and she could barely stand without slipping. The cavity in the dragon's back had been excavated to the point where she didn't need to transform into anything to stand in it.
"Don't bother trying to burn us," she casually mocked the dragon as she licked herself clean. "Those organs of yours that make the fire, they were good. A bit like a venom sac in snakes, but full of magic too."
Weizenfauer didn't say a word. He could smell his blood and the venom polluting it. But, he could also smell the compounds breaking down in his liver, curing his lethargy quicker than the Changelings could administer their fangs. He needed only to survive a little while longer.
"Need to recharge?" asked her captain.
"No, Carrier. The dragon's body is like a sponge of magical energy. There's a lot more of it in him than any other animal I've eaten."
"Explains their resilience," Marina added.
Halfwing nodded in agreement. She was working fast, worrying that their treatment of the blue dragon would kill him before she learned his anatomy. However, he continued to defy their expectation. His internal injuries grew by the minute as she sampled his unique organs. Beyond that, he still managed to show muscle function after absurdly large doses of snake venom.
His tolerance for pain was unparalleled, Halfwing admitted. When she needed to test the dragon's muscle contraction, he had Marina shock the dragon by taking the form of a river eel that had electrical abilities. It worked, but without so much as a quiver of pain from the dragon's lips. If she wasn't so focused on learning as much as she could, Halfwing knew she'd be furious at his defiance.
"But it won't matter," Halfwing said. "Apart from the hardgut, the digesting organs just look like larger versions of mammal or reptile ones. I already know how those fit into the body. The only thing that's left is the two hearts, I need to figure out how they work together."
"I'll be surprised if he survives that," her captain said.
"Still, even though I ate his adrenal glands, I'm worried he might have one last burst of life. After going through all this I thought he'd be dead, so there's no saying what might happen."
"I'll pull out some spears and have them aimed at the throat, then," offered Marina. Halfwing accepted and let the lieutenant drone reused some of the spears they had placed in the dragon.
"May I ask you something, Princess?"
Halfwing turned to Carrier. "Go ahead."
"I understand the benefit of understanding a dragon's form, but what are you going to use it for?"
Halfwing smirked, smelling a hint of concern in her captain's magic. Her hate for her mother and her sisters were apparent; she never tried to conceal them.
"Don't worry, I won't burn down the hive," she giggled. "I'm still young, but I know not to play with fire. I'll simply rule over Riverfork with this new form."
He stared at her. "That village is protected. With all due respect, ours was not the only farm with those orange flowers. I'm sure this blue one would have attacked Riverfork if he could."
Weizenfauer scoffed. "You went through all this trouble for that? Haha, it'll never work, little one."
Halfwing ignored the comment. "That's just the long-term plan. It'll have to wait a few years before the ponies there think they're safe from dragons. I'll start by bringing the head of the dragon. That should make Mezza Forte a hero, but more importantly, reduce the production of the flowers."
Marina grunted, tearing a spear out from a stubborn scale. "Will you consider working with the Marblestop settlement?"
Carrier frowned. "You know I don't think that's a good idea, no matter how long you've been cultivating it."
"Yes, but you're young for a captain, aren't you? I earned my title as one of Princess Spectra's lieutenants."
Halfwing hissed, cutting into the conversation. "Do not mention her."
Marina took a step out of Halfwing's way. "Fine. But consider it. They already know who you are."
"I delivered one package in exchange for a book. That's all."
"That package, Princess, carried vital information for the ponies of Marblestop. Information that they needed to guarantee that they will gain control of Riverfork's council."
Halfwing considered the possibility. She wouldn't have control over the village directly, meaning no pony harvests like in Marblestop. But, that might be a better option. Keeping ponies locked up made their magic taste the same. It was a simple source of power, but she had acted too quickly back then.
"You said you were working with connections among them," Halfwing told Marina. "Their plans are as much as your plans, right?"
The drone dragged another spear out of the dragon's tail. "I wanted to make Riverfork more successful, in case," she paused and considered her words, "certain other Changelings returned to hunt. Marblestop's leadership is more deliberate, and could grow the village's economy better than the current council and their political games."
"More ponies, more business, that also means more security," Halfwing added. "Easier to get spotted the more ponies there are."
"Well, I'll leave you to figure out how to get around that," Marina said as she carried the spears over to the dragon's head. "But in a few years, they'll relax their guard. Given time, ponies always become docile and peaceful."
The dragon finally reacted and chuckled at Marina. "Or, perhaps, they'll grow stronger than you could ever imagine, and then you will be ones who are hunted."
"You're no different from them," Halfwing remarked, deciding to climb back up the dragon know that Marina was in her position. "You're my prey, just like everything else that lives in Equestria. Ponies and pony villages are just part of our hunting ground."
"Cattle sometimes flee their pastures," countered Weizenfauer.
Halfwing smeared her hoof with his blood and smiled as she licked it up. "And shepherds always bring them back."
Down by the river, a picnic of orange juice and three fine kinds of cheese were laid out over the green spring grass. Winter was harsher in the hills, so once the air warmed up, all kinds of plants were hungry to eat up the soil. Now the cold and flooded dirt was completely forgotten, replaced by weeks of rampant growth.
And the same could be said for the pack. Three young drones, were off somewhere in the woods, training Spectra's first children by teaching them how to hunt game. She leaned back in her pony form, a mushroom gatherer who wandered too close to the nest one day.
The groundskeeper sat next to her, drinking a cup of juice in the form of the gatherer's husband. It was unfortunate they had to kill them, the village's baked mushrooms have never been the same since, but at least they were useful disguises for wandering around the village. They came out to the village to talk about the new drones and needed no one to notice.
"They're growing fast," the groundskeeper said. "They started smaller and softer than any of us expected, but now they're bigger than any hunter-drone their age."
"Yep," Spectra nodded. The groundskeeper meant their carapaces. The chitin of her first drones was thinner, even peeling off when they were exposed to too much sunlight. But in just two days, each one of the drones doubled in size as they consumed the remains of their egg sacs.
"I was born long after the Queen took control of the hive, but do you think this is normal? No drone has ever been born above ground before, and you're still new at it."
Spectra cut out a slice of wax-wrapped cheese and scooped up a chunk of the soft treat with a cracker. "Your magic smells like you're worried about something else."
"I looked over the notes about the mutations," he said.
"Ah, there it is," Spectra smirked. "What's the problem? We turn into manticores and other monsters frequently."
"There's no problem. Frankly, the Queen never said anything about this, so I'm not sure what to think. But I didn't think you'd use pony discoveries this much."
Spectra cleared her mouth with a deep gulp of orange juice. "One of these days, my mother will pass on the mantle of Chrysalis. I don't think she expects us to follow her every step."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, my sister Halfwing might be a little crazy from her childhood, but I think she did something all of us realized later."
The groundskeeper levitated a cube of white cheese and nibbled on it mindlessly, more focused on Spectra's explanation. Respect for another Changeling's power was one thing, but this sounded almost like a compliment.
"And what exactly do you think you've realized?"
"That whoever controls ponies will control Equestria," Spectra answered. "The old way is hunting them, taking pieces of their work but never bothering to learn how they constantly build new things."
She held up a piece of the cheese she was eating. "You know, I had a drone steal one of the lenses from the workshop. I wanted to finally know why cheese, out of so many pony foods, didn't disgust me."
The groundskeeper laughed. "You mean you're disgusted by spinach and carrots?"
Spectra glared. "Even I, a princess, was raised on the hive's diet. I hear your kind gets exposed to the surface at a much younger age. So yes, I had difficulty eating most pony foods. Even now, I'd rather not eat grains and vegetables."
"Admitting to flaws," the groundskeeper clicked his tongue, "did motherhood make you wiser all of a sudden? Well, go on then, what does that pony lens have to do with anything?"
"I'm just thinking about the future, now that I have a stake in it," Spectra said. "When I first used that crystal lens, I could see whole herds of small creatures in samples too small to even smell. Trumoss called them cells because they're like little rooms trapping living material inside of them, like a prison cell."
"And when you stole one of those lenses, what did you see?"
Spectra tossed the piece of cheese to the groundskeeper. "Smell it."
"Smells like cheese," he said, unimpressed.
Spectra rolled her eyes. "Okay, but there's magic in that smell, isn't there?"
The groundskeeper took another whiff and nodded. There was definitely something faintly magical, though he wasn't sure what. Not even meat from a dead animal held onto magic for long, let alone when it was cooked. Milk itself had a lot less magic than an animal, and after the long process of turning into cheese, he couldn't imagine what was holding onto the magic.
"The stronger the scent of the cheese," Spectra said, "the more of those little creatures I saw under the lens. There must hundreds if not thousands of things living in that one slice."
The groundskeeper raised a brow. "That can't be right."
"It is. And even if it's just knowledge about cheese, it's an understanding about the world I didn't have before until I used pony methods."
He looked back at the slice and set it down. "You're right, they are weirdly innovative."
"Because they're weak," Spectra explained. "For them to have survived this long takes a different way of looking at the world, one we might never fully grasp as predators. But that doesn't mean we can't learn from them."
"So, these new drones of yours and their mutagens," the groundskeeper said, "they're your next step in Changeling progress?"
Spectra shrugged. "Maybe. For now, it's a stepping stone to help me get a handle of growing drones. I'll have to test more mutagens in the future, and with a drone disguised at Trumoss's eldest daughter, we'll learn how to conduct his experiments on our own. After that, I'll see if anything we learn could be even more beneficial."
The groundskeeper shook his head in disbelief. "Mutating Changelings on purpose, that's something I never expected to live to see."
"Run a tight ship, and you might live to see more," Spectra said.
"A tight ship?"
"Oh, that's a Riverfork phrase, they deal with a lot of river vessels. It means to do good and organized work, I think. Not sure though, I never stayed on a boat for long."
"Well, I don't know how to run a ship, but my nest is always organized," the groundskeeper smiled. "But don't expect to earn our loyalty so easily."
"I know, I know. Queen before hive, hive before self," Spectra recited the sentiments each drone was expected to follow. The words came to her on the spot, but they might as well have been the mantra of every hunter-drone, especially the groundskeepers.
"Don't brush it off after one victory, Spectra," the groundskeeper urged her. "The Queen picked us out as deviants from the hive. Any normal hunter-drone would go insane without a constant presence of their pack, but not groundskeepers."
"Is that so?"
"Our minds are different. We don't need the hive's command. That's why we can look after nests without any interaction with another creature for months, even years, and still stay in control of ourselves."
"You're still not independent enough to disobey my mother," Spectra reminded him. "So why would I be so different as Queen?"
The groundskeeper shrugged. "I don't know how I would feel if you became Queen. I just thought you should know that you might have to kill a few groundskeepers before you can rule over the hive."
In total darkness, the sound of rock crumbling tipped off Carrier more than his vision. The dragon, just as Halfwing worried, did have one last reserve of strength, flicking his tail to bring down some cracked stone from the roof of his cavern before she could enter his heart.
But the effort came too little, too late. Carrier guessed it was at least a few tons of stone, but Halfwing levitated the boulders as if they were paper.
"You should have paid attention," she mocked the dragon one more time. "Your body is full of magic, even if you're not able to use it like I am." She tilted her head and let the rubble pile up in one corner of the cavern.
"You can't win if you're giving me the power to fight back." She transformed back into a massive burrowing worm and returned to eating her way through to the hearts of the dragon.
"All your plans, your efforts, do you think you have what it takes to be a dragon?" He rolled his eyes toward the drones, but neither answered back. "You stole your tricks from ponies. I know the hive is not clever enough to come up with something like this on its own."
He grunted as the tissues near his chest split apart. "Another dragon will come, either for you or for me. I smelled the carnage in Marblestop, another dragon will smell what you are doing here."
"Then we'll kill them too," Marina snapped, twisting one of the spears in his skin. "A few pieces of sharp metal seem to work fine."
The dragon coughed, spitting blood onto the cavern floor. In the lightless bowel of the cave, the crimson splatter looked like a fluid black pit. "My only regret is that I won't be able to see what happens to you, to every rotten parasite that thinks it can drink dragon blood without paying the price."
"If there really is a price on dragon blood, vials of it would be in Riverfork's markets by now," Marina mocked.
"The price is the burden," he replied solemnly, "the burden of being King of All Beasts. That is a power that not even your precious Queen fully understands."
Carrier scoffed. "I don't believe the Princess is going to consider being royalty an issue."
The dragon paused, finally showing his weakened state by heaving a drained sigh. His voice deepened, speaking with more ease and flow between his words. "Du konn nicht einfich huntung. Der fluch das grarrenblotts, selbst du kannst dich nicht wervadlen."
Marina made a face at the dragon's shift in speech. The guttural noises and croaks that reverberated from the end of his throat seemed to share some roots in the Changeling's tongue. A few words may have been close enough to guess their meaning, but she didn't have time to bother translating the ridiculously archaic and accented rambling of a dying dragon.
"Stubborn beast," Carrier spat at him, "curse us all you like, I doubt superstition will save you. It hasn't helped the ponies, and they have had religion for centuries."
A final warning left Weizenfauer's mouth as he wheezed, but with his accent and weakened murmuring, the Changelings could barely hear a word.
Reiter kicked a stone into the river and watched it hop four times before sinking. Esilis and Espera Voxa were talking about critical business details, a way to ensure success in their future plans, if they went through with it: the latest fashions from the east shore.
Another rock tumbled into the water. His father was on board with the plan, mainly because it promised power and control over the core industries in Riverfork. Ever since the village became the new home to Marblestop, it had been the centre of river traffic, iron working, and skilled labour. The ponies who controlled those had more than just a little command over the state of Equestria. Even with the dragon nearby, Riverfork was still the focus of all business in the south. If it was made, grown, traded, used, or adorned, it went through Riverfork.
But the council that was in charge of the village before remained the same. That was fine with Reiter and his father at first, they had friends in the council. But it quickly became apparent that business and trade at such a large scale was beyond what the old council could handle. So all the wealth of Reiter's family was now, in secret, thrown behind the movement to unite Riverfork under Marblestop's leadership.
He looked over at Voxa and Esilis, stunned by both mares trying out outfits. He was loyal to Esilis, but no pony, male or female, could deny that the Espera had an outstanding figure. Her posture bolstered curves that made her light-rose coat glisten in the spring sun.
Like most Marblestop ponies, she prefered robes and loose clothing. Unlike them, she enjoyed thin silks that blurred her natural body rather than cotton which covered it.
Dressed to impress, Reiter thought to himself. He didn't want to admit it around Esilis, but he was nervous about the announcement they were about to make. His father was at the town hall right now, funding and influencing the council members to make their confidence in the village weaken. But, if Marblestop's Governor Seiris couldn't convince the council to give over control of commerce, Riverfork would tear itself apart in the division.
Voxa sauntered over to Reiter, her silks sliding along her silhouette, and nudged his attention. "Are you sure you don't want a doublet for yourself?"
"I'm not the one making a case to the council that they should step down," he shook his head. "They already don't like how we're controlling Riverfork with our investments."
"Yet they still take your coin and help increase your profits," Voxa mused.
"Of course they do. Money is money."
"I haven't been to the council before," Esilis mumbled as she trotted over to Reiter and Voxa. She held up her hoof and shook around the loose silks Voxa had helped pick out for her. "Do you think this looks good?"
Reiter couldn't help smiling as he eyed her. "I don't know why Voxa insisted on a new outfit, but it's working out for me."
Voxa's hoof turned his glance away and to the council hall. "We're staging a transfer of power, Reiter," she told him. "You don't just wake up and do something like that in common clothes."
Reiter furrowed his brows. "I'm the chief investor in half of the village's trading and transport. I don't think I own a single 'common' thing."
"Think bigger," Voxa said with confidence. "Being rich doesn't make you rare."
"That's why you two are here," Reiter said.
"Three," Esilis said. Reiter looked to her, then followed her pointed hoof into the crowded market where a bright shiny spear poked its head out above the rows of customers bustling around. It was Marina, snapping at a few fillies and colts pushing their way in front of her.
Voxa waved her over, though only laughed from a distance as Marina had to shove aside angry bartering merchants and farmers hauling around their products.
"Such a triumphant return," the Espera chuckled when Marina reached the riverbank.
"If you're free to laugh at my expense, can I assume we've already gained control of the council?"
"We were on our way," Esilis said, taking Marina by the foreleg. "But we have to catch up while we walk. It's been too long since we talked."
"Yes, we need to catch up on everything," Reiter added, walking on the other side of Marina.
She looked back to Voxa, who was walking just behind them. "You didn't tell them where I went?"
The mare shrugged. "Didn't want to worry them. They were bound to find out eventually, no matter the outcome."
Forested air once sprinkled with cool morning dew felt more like a damp wall in the afternoon. Spring's warmth was enough to heat up the water on the leaves, turning droplets into moisture that remained trapped by the dense roof of brambles and branches.
Carrier huffed as he brought Halfwing over the last hurdle, dragging her weighted body up to the mouth of the cave. The Changeling princess immediately wretched, dumping half of the blood and viscera she had gorged on from the dragon.
"Are you alright?"
Her broken wing buzzed irritatedly and she growled. "I'm fine, just not used to eating so much."
Halfwing shivered with each step she took back into the sunlight. Smelling the air, she picked up faint traces of owls and nocturnal rodents that were not around in the morning. There was no doubt about it, she had spent a full day of endless consumption, and still, most of the dragon's corpse still remained at the bottom of the cave.
The dragon's resistance annoyed her. A Changeling, even herself and her sisters, would have died much sooner if they took that much damage to their organs. With the dragon's flesh and blood regurgitated, Halfwing's head started to think clearly again, and she considered the possibility that if she were to face another dragon, she would not be so lucky. In an open field, there was no chance her plan would work again.
"We should start moving for Marblestop," Halfwing finally decided, after stretching herself out under the fresh, open sky. "Whatever Marina does at Riverfork will take time. Right now, I have what I need to drive Majesta and Spectra out of the hive."
"You haven't tested the dragon's form, Princess," her captain reminded her.
Halfwing nodded, reflexively looking at her broken wing. If nothing else, she hoped the dragon's powerful blood had the key to overcoming her mental block. Reconstituting a broken wing at her age should have been easy. Whenever a Changeling shifted forms, their body rebuilds itself. But losing her wing right after birth left a mental scar. No matter what she tried, her body simply could remember what it was like to have a wing on her left side.
Magic, the energy that flowed through all life, burned her body as she focused. Halfwing's ichor boiled, expanding and cracking through her chitinous carapace with bright green vigour. Her old flesh burned off as magic stitched itself back together, wrapping the princess in layers of corded muscle.
Even for the largest of reptiles, like the gators that lurked in the wetlands north of the hive, the transformation process went smoothly. The mass of any animal or monster was never too much for her magic. A full adult dragon, however, stood at an enormous scale.
Carrier reacted when she collapsed, catching Halfwing before her exposed flesh hit the ground. Bone unevenly jutted out from muscle, sometimes growing faster than the flesh, and at other times not catching up and leaving limbs without any solid structure.
Halfwing felt nothing when her magic burned off her captain, expelling him back against the wall of the dragon's cave. As her head hit the ground, she watched limp arms spasm into unnatural directions as their bones fit unevenly. She realized then that she had lost focus, allowed herself to let her instinct run wild and create a body it was never designed to create.
With with whatever rudimentary lungs she had crafted, Halfwing breathed in deep, willing the broken muscle and sinew to burn away. Magic funnelled itself into her chest, taking her old melted organs and moulding them. The dragon's enormous hearts and the hard gut that digested gemstones, Halfwing set her mind to those tasks and those tasks only.
Carrier watched with utter horror, the princess who commanded his mind laid on the dirt in the form of a pooling bundle of organs and muscle. But as a hunter drone, he willed himself to pay attention only to what he was ordered to do. He stood by her side and waited, watched, and waited some more.
Layer by layer, Halfwing's new body began to pace itself and grow at a natural pace. The skin expanded to make room for new muscle, and the muscle slowed its growth to wait for blood vessels to energize it. Carrier watched the red highways of vertebrate blood crisscrossing all over Halfwing's soft skin fade away as the process repeated itself and thicked her bones and limbs.
Scales crawled up, plate after plate of the strongest armour in the natural world. But compared to the arduous process of reassembling delicate organs, growing scales came as naturally as breathing.
Halfwing's captain stepped back when the green light radiating from her skin faded. His wings shook. The scent of dragon emanated so strongly from her new body that he barely recognized the princess.
She took her first full breath as a dragon and opened her eyes. Her captain looked completely different from her perspective. Simply raising her head made her tower over him. She didn't approach the size of the dragon she had killed, but that hardly mattered. Halfwing imagined she could easily topple a Marblestop house or turn Riverfork to ashes.
Thinking about the blaze she could create surged something inside of her. She breathed and huffed pillars of smoke into the air. Reflexively, her jaw latched itself open and shot a jet of fire into the mouth of the cave. Carrier ducked out of the way, escaping the fire by the ends of his wings.
"Is it everything you imagined?" he asked her when she calmed down.
For the first time, she heard the buzzing of her own kind the way other creatures did. The rattling and clicking of the hard chitinous mouths itched at her senses. It took a moment of focus to recover herself and understand what her captain had said.
"If even one adult dragon found the hive, the heart of our entire species would be burned alive in a day," she whispered as she flexed her claws. Halfwing stretched her head around and checked her back. One wing spread so wide its shadow darkened the forest around it. But she watched with disappointment when the only thing on the other side was a lonely joint jutting against her scales.
The old wing hadn't even grown out, leaving a vestigial bone instead that rotated with each flap, hoping it would one day find a wing to attach itself to.
"So that's how it is," she chuckled.
"You should probably change back, Princess," her captain suggested, "I can fly you to Marblestop when you're lighter."
Halfwing's pupils widened at Carrier's words, and the captain couldn't help but slink away at the overwhelming scent of adrenaline building up in her blood.
"I don't want anyone stopping me," she thundered. Halfwing raised her head to the clouds and sucked in a gust of air. It amazed her that the dragon's sense of smell was superior even to hers.
From the mountainside, a morning's walk away from Riverfork, she could sense the fishers hauling up fresh catches to feed their cats and dogs. She smelled the stench of ponies, the waste they threw out into the gutters of their village. She smelled the itching burn of the flowers. They decorated almost every home in Riverfork now that they were in bloom. And, of course, she smelled a salty and bitter tang in the air, an ichorous that could only belong to a Changeling.
"Tenacity is here, hiding in Riverfork just like she planned. Go find her, then kill her. Get Marina to help you if you need it. I can go to Marblestop on my own."
"We didn't sense her when we were in Riverfork," her captain replied, "how should I begin looking for her?"
Idiot creature. Halfwing rolled her slitted eyes at her captain. "If Marina's plotting succeeded, the Marblestop settlement should have control over that village soon. They owe me a favour, and they will have the resources to flush out a Changeling."
"And if I get there and she failed?"
Halfwing shrugged. "Use the chaos to find her. If they failed, Riverfork won't take kindly to their guests' attempted coup, and a dragon won't be what burns the village to the ground."
"So that's it then? We're to split up and spread ourselves even thinner?"
She growled. "Are you challenging me?"
"No," Carrier looked down. "I would never. But I can't let you take so much risk, not without thinking it over."
Halfwing gently breathed, bemused by her drone's concerns. She hoped she had never looked so pathetic before. From the eyes of a dragon, the little drone truly was an insect, same as any other that scuttled and crawled and writhed around in the mud and filth.
"What risks? I am a dragon. Do as I command, and forget about your worries. As long as you trust in me, the hive will have a future where it is worthy of the powers I have unlocked today."
Summer showed itself a little early this morning. It was a welcomed heat, signalling that the year had reached the late stages of spring. Farmers began to note that the river was receding, taking its gentle floods with it centimetres per day.
Change was near. Ponies always talked about spring in that way. Spectra understood the sentiment, but never fully appreciated it. Change was a normal part of her life, a simple tool to get what she wanted. It never occurred to her that some changes could be so revolutionary that it went beyond its immediate uses.
Her children walked behind her on the dirt paths throughout the Citrus Hills. Unlike Riverfork, the Hills were defined by sprawling orchards of orange and lemon trees, things that tasted sweet and sour to the ponies who cultivated them.
"They eat these?" One of her young drones scrunched his face. "They smell like metal."
His brother pushed him aside. "No, idiot. They're bitter, like the magic of that colt we took."
"The one who kept crying? No, he tasted sugary."
Spectra let them bicker, it was an important task for them to learn. Even among ponies, sibling rivalry was a common occurrence. The only difference was that pony siblings didn't try to kill each other seconds after they were born. And so they were ever populous because of it. That's what made Spectra wonder, and what made her hatch her new drones separately.
The groundskeeper warned her that it'd let unfit drones poison the hive with weakness, but so far all of her children were strong and fast-growing.
They were flawed, of course. That was the consequence of using mutagens at random. But they made up for it in other ways, chiefly by developing magical skills much faster. Only a week old, the two drones following her had mastered how to mask their form, even if their selection of creatures were limited to the animals that they could hunt.
"Ponies are built for different things," Spectra explained, gesturing to one of the farmers working on the orchard they passed by. He waved back despite being so far away that it was impossible for him to make out who it was. "So they don't need to taste magic the way we do."
"No wonder they're so stupid," one of them said. "Can't even tell we're Changelings."
Spectra frowned and kicked a hind leg back at her child. "Don't you ever say that out loud, even if no one can hear you."
The drone yelped at the bruising pain on his face but kept his head low. His brother, however, only laughed at him. By noon they reached the hills that overlooked the river. Muddy trails sprung from it like veins reaching inland, the last remnants of the soft flooding that brought water to the other hills and orchards.
Further downstream, Spectra could see the home of Trumoss. Even after kidnapping his family and forcing him to produce mutagenic materials for her, the stallion remained quiet about the presence of Changelings in his village. Drones reported that he had become paranoid after he was given back his family. That impressed Spectra, even though he had no way of knowing she had kept his eldest daughter as a source of magic to feed on.
A clever pony, Spectra doubted that even the drone masquerading as his daughter could steal mutagens without him noticing the missing amount. But as long as he was watched carefully, she let him shut himself up in his paranoia.
"Is that it, Princess?" Her drone pointed to the house as she looked at it. "It doesn't seem so powerful."
"Who are we to judge something by its looks?" she asked him.
Her other child, still rubbing his chin from the pain, walk up next to his brother. "Our egg-memories showed us what the hive is like. I don't think a house that small can hold the future of our hive."
She chuckled. "You and your siblings are the first Changelings ever born outside of the hive. As strong as we are, remember that weak creatures like ponies wouldn't be able to thrive the way they do without their ingenuity."
"What's that mean?" Her drone said. "Ingenuity?"
"It's their ability to create new things to solve problems that Changelings accept as facts of life," Spectra answered. "I thought I'd have to create drones the old way, with magic alone."
She pointed to Turmoss's manse. "But because a pony up on that hill observed the smallest details of the surface world, I was able to use his knowledge and do something different. That's why you're all different from the captain and the groundskeeper."
"Hm," her child grunted. "We can take more than just magic from ponies."
"And we will," Spectra said, "but right now we have to meet up with your brother."
They galloped down the hills, taking a dirt road that ponies frequented all the way to the soft sanded shore of the river. A ship waited, a proper one from Ironmarsh. The village was just a day north by flight, two days by boat. But for her new, mutant drones, those days were the line between childhood and adolescence.
Her eldest drone, a flawed mutant, waved with a pegasus wing from the helm of the ship. He glided off and skimmed the air above the river, splashing his hooves in the water playfully before he landed on the patches of grass that mixed with the sand.
"Brother!" The two younger drones galloped to their elder.
"Do you still remember me?" asked one of them. "You left the day after I hatched."
"Really? You must be a runt then." He laughed and pushed his younger brother over. "But I bet you're still bigger than the hive drones your age."
"Enough playing," Spectra smirked, trotting up to her excitable children. "This is the captain of the ship? Not many pegasi live down on the surface."
"Ironmarsh has a few mountains near it where the pegasi roost," her eldest explained. "This pegasus left his mountain to run a ship. Being able to clear the skies means bad weather can never touch his vessel."
He gestured to the ship, a heavy river barge with wide decks for storing cargo. Three masts waved wide sails, but they weren't enough to make up for the ship's weight. Spectra wondered if anything could. It was clearly not designed with speed in mind.
"Could carry a lot in that," she noted. "And the crew doesn't suspect anything?"
"A few did," her drone replied, "the cook and quartermaster knew the captain well, so I did what the groundskeeper taught me and bought them plenty of the burning drinks that ponies like."
"Wine?" Spectra clarified.
"Yes, that. Tragically, those two got so drunk they fell off the ship and drowned. Held a funeral ceremony for good luck just before the ship disembarked."
"Wow, you were busy this week!" one of his younger brothers said, pulling at his wing.
"Stop that," Spectra grumbled at her childish drone, "and don't interrupt me."
She refocused on her eldest. "But he's right, you've learned from the other hunter-drones well."
"Does... does that mean I get a name?"
Spectra raised a brow. "Only powerful captains get names in the hive. Not even my own captain has a name. Do you really think you're ready for one?"
"I only think what you think, Princess." Her eldest drone eyed the grass beneath his hooves. The mutations clearly hadn't changed his hunter-drone psychology, Spectra noted. She had the freedom of mind to address her drones as her children if she wanted, but the relationship between drone and princess was nothing like the one between a princess and the Queen.
Spectra wondered if it was right of her to acknowledge the request. Naming drones was a tradition not taken lightly. Hunter-drones were expendable, not as much as worker-drones, but they were still a faceless force for the hive. Names didn't matter unless you had the strength to prove you were unique.
And her eldest drone was far from being a brute. His chief problem was the flaw in his true form. The mutations she used on him removed his horn and thinned his carapace. Magic was still available to him, but the magic only gathered to the crown of his head. Without the ability to collect his energy into a horn, his spells were dispersed and unfocused.
But, his thin carapace helped him grow larger than any normal hunter-drone. His chitin shed easily, expanding rapidly and letting him pack more muscle and ichor, effectively making up for his magical disability with physical power.
She sighed. "Oh, fine. I suppose you'll be captain of your brothers anyway. I name you Windcatcher, in honour of your first successful mission."
Windcatcher's expression barely changed, but a rush of endorphins filled his veins. Drones rarely appreciated each other, so Spectra suspected her approval meant more to her drones than anything else. The air was saturated with Windcatcher's joy, smeared slightly by his younger brothers' envy.
Some things never change.
"Go back to the nest and tell the captain that any drone not infiltrating the village needs to report to me," she ordered her two younger drones.
Without question or curiosity, her words connected something in their minds and their feelings toward their older brother vanished, replaced by a basic drive to fulfil their orders. They nodded to their princess and bolted back the way they came, still keeping their disguises as ponies so no one saw them flying back to the hive as Changelings.
"What should I do?" Windcatcher asked.
"Wait on the ship," she replied, "and throw a party for the crew. I want them all in one place."
He nodded. "Should I give them wine too?"
"As much as you have. Get them so drunk they won't notice us throw them over. I don't want a single pony on that ship when we sail south. We'll be raiding cottages and hamlets along the river to pick up ponies to feed on, and even one pony in the crew can figure out a way to ruin that plan."
"South?" Windcatcher processed the information for a moment. "Is this a mission back home? Are we finally going to take the hive?"
Spectra nodded. "By the time we reach Riverfork, you'll have enough brothers to divide into two packs, so pick your lieutenants wisely. From there, we'll take whatever prisoners we have and march south of the river to the hive. You'll finally meet your aunt Majesta."
"This is ridiculous, you can't expect us to let you do this!"
Marina watched with a smile as the other stallions struggled to hold themselves together. With Chevron, one of the Riverfork council members that Spectra stored away in the hive, they were more disjointed than ever. The hunter-drone masquerading as Chevron offered little help, simply sitting with a puzzled look on his face as if he was in deep deliberation with himself.
Gentry, she remembered him. Princess Spectra had targeted him as an important figure they could control during her first hunt. He was as skilled a politician as the true Chevron, and he could've possed as a real threat if his daughter hadn't been compromised by another drone.
Marina let the Marblestop leaders take the reigns, resigning herself to watch from the sidelines. She wondered where Spectra was right now, whether she had been killed by Majesta or had already taken her place as the heir to the hive. Either way, as a lieutenant, Marina still had a duty to the hive.
"Your markets are overrun, merchants have no space, and the limitations on Marblestop engineering prevent us from refining your architecture to fix all its problems." The governor of Marblestop, Seiris, waved a hoof out at the doors of the meeting hall. He gestured to the outside world. "Only we know how to make a town like this rich."
Gentry wore a grim face as he turned to Reiter and his father, Cedar Pine. They had managed to gather all the council members here under the guise of an emergency meeting.
"You lied to us? We put you where you are, and you lied to us?"
"You promised to make Riverfork rich, Gentry," Cedar dismissed the stallion's anger. "It's been almost a year since Marblestop fell to ruins. Barges from the north are being laden with goods to trade with us, but you've barely changed the town ever since then. I run a carriage service, Gentry. If there's no space for ponies to come here, then there's no way for me to earn the money you promised."
"Promises are just words," Chevron bellowed, using his low voice to his advantage in the large chamber. "Your words are no better than ours, why should we believe your Marblestop architects can do anything for us?"
The challenge came as a ploy. He may have sounded arrogant, but the Espera simply smiled at the opportunity to respond and state her case more strongly.
"Dragon fire cannot burn marble, for one thing," she said. "On top of that, our home village is very much standing, despite everything that has happened to it. We've sent spies as merchants from other villages, and they all report that there are still ponies living in Marblestop, debt-slaves who survived the Changeling attacked somehow. We build things to last."
Another council member scoffed. "Or those were Changelings, who attacked your spies and took their form."
Again, the Espera mocked the Riverfork council with her knowing smirk. "Spycraft is a rare and intricate skill, council member Skimmer. I have ways to tell when a Changeling is among my followers."
Marina doubted the true efficacy of her claim, but that was an interesting fact she needed to be aware of. Both sides threw words back and forth. Cedar and Reiter had bought the guards, ensuring the meeting would last the whole day if it needed to. Seizing control by violence was too simple, too risky of incurring an uprising later. It was an option, of course, but Seiris and Marina both agreed they wanted to execute this peacefully.
Finally, Chevron placed his second cue. "So you'd have us serve you?"
Seiris laughed, it was in a way that showed genuine emotion without leaving a trace of magic in the air. "You won't be impoverished if that's what you mean. No, I'd rather think you'd make a terrible waiter."
Chevron scowled back, but he listened. His authority held the others in line just long enough for Seiris to continue.
"Commander Iridi should take charge of the militia, of course, but I don't expect to run Riverfork alone. My fellow ponies are brilliant crafters, but we don't sow many crops, and merchants still know your names more readily than they do the exiled governor of Marblestop."
"You'd use us for our connections," Gentry grumbled and crossed his hooves.
"Isn't that what you already do to each other? The difference is, as long as you let my cabinet make the calls, your advice can buy you all the wealth and power that follow you in your dreams."
Gentry rose from his seat. "We don't threaten each other with locked doors and guards."
"Then, by all means, council member," Seris gestured to the door, "leave your council. But don't expect to be allowed back in."
As she goaded the council member, the door cracked open, and a single file line of militia guards entered the room and marched around along the sides of the walls. They encircled the council room with twenty armed guards, each wearing thick linen robes of Marblestop fashion and brandishing gleaming spears made from river-iron.
"This isn't a threat, but a demonstration," Seiris tried convincing the council, "of the security we can offer Riverfork. Marblestop's militia is better trained and better equipped. If we combined our skills with the increasingly overpopulated streets of this town, we would have a true army. One with good leaders, clear logistics, and a single identity to fight for. No other city, on the river or beyond, can boast that."
Gentry stood up before Seiris could say any more and turned to his fellow Riverforkers. "I won't be coerced at spear-point. If any of you have any sense, you'll leave with me. Marblestop died under their watch. Changelings could never have done that to our great town."
"It was a village back then," Chevron replied, glancing over at the others members. "Now we're bigger, and I don't think the Changelings haven't noticed either."
In a huff Gentry descended from his seat and stormed by the Marblestop guards. His hooves clomped along the floor until he reached Voxa.
"You're not as powerful as you think you are," he whispered in her ear. "After this, you better retreat, go back to your temple, because I'll have plans for you."
She scowled and shoved the stallion back. "As if I'd be scared of a pitiful pony like you. Go on and run. You'll never lay a hoof on me."
Gentry stepped back and glanced around at all the soldiers, each one tightening his hooves around his spear. When it came to a mare, especially one that looked like Voxa, there was no doubt each guard would spring at a chance to save her. Without another word, he trotted around Seiris and Voxa and exit the hall.
"He just might be the bravest one of us," Chevron mused and then turned his head to the other council members. "Nevertheless, I like living. Perhaps we should give their proposition more consideration."
With or without political power, each council member was still a wealthy member of Riverfork's merchant or banking class. Gentry's homestead, situated on a small mound just outside of the town, had the resources to become a fortification. Riverfork guards, loyal Riverfork guards, encircled his house. They placed barricades around his home, and checkpoints along the stone path that stretched to his front door.
"Dunno if he'll want to see me," Lunti told Marina.
They stood a safe distance away, watching the coming and going of guards from a copse of trees by the road. Sneaking in wasn't the option to go for. Even if they could kidnap and replace a few guards, it was too risky. The wrong step, name, or passcode could expose them. So it was fortunate that Lunti, this Lunti, was another one of Spectra's drones.
"You might have done your job too well," Marina said. "You separated Lunti from every friend and family she had. But Gentry is her father. Fathers are willing to forgive a lot for their daughters."
"Alright, Lieutenant," Lunti sighed, reluctantly stepping out onto the road, "if I die, it's on you."
Lunti approached the stone path cautiously. Though Gentry was her father, he had kept her out of the public eye for a long time. Even so, a few guards recognized her beige coat and magenta mane as soon as she approached.
"What're you doing here, miss?" One of the guards hurriedly swung open the gates of the first barricade.
"I have the right to see my father," she answered. "Rumours about Marblestop's treachery are all over the streets of the markets. He'll need my help if he wants to keep his control."
"You?" The guard almost cracked a smile, but a scowl from Lunti stopped him short.
"Yes, me," she snapped. "I built myself up without him, and now he'll need the friends I've made. Ironmarsh mercenaries, for example."
The guard looked back to his two comrades at the post. They both returned looks of equal confusion and shrugged. After seconds of hesitation, the guard relented and moved out of the way, leaving the gate open for Lunti to pass.
Gentry couldn't believe his luck when she told him. He wanted to yell at her, she was still his daughter and had a lot to answer for, but this was a start.
"How in Equestria did you get Ironmarsh mercenaries?"
Almost a year ago, Riverfork lost Marblestop as its main source of iron ore. Since then, without their homeland, even Marblestop smiths had to resort to buying ore from Ironmarsh whenever traders sailed into town. With their rich iron sources, it wasn't hard for ponies to find quality arms and armour for mercenary business.
"The question is whether you're ready to use them," Lunti replied, tentatively stepping into her father's study, where he could see the main road from its window. "You'll be throwing Riverfork into a civil war. You could turn it to ruins like Marblestop."
"Everything this town is, I made happen," he growled, barely looking away from his window. "I don't trust those ponies. They'll use us up and throw everything we own into reclaiming their land, I know it."
"Didn't stop the council from agreeing to cooperate with them," Lunti reminded him. "Word's already spreading-"
"Yes, I know what ponies are saying about me!" Gentry snapped his neck around and barked at his daughter. "And now my daughter, who sold her dignity away to my largest political rival, thinks she can save everything I've tried to build."
Lunti stepped back, tripping over her hooves. She checked her back, making sure she fell into the door to the study and slammed it shut. "If you built it up so well, how come Marblestop makes it seem like they can do so much better?"
Gentry bought the bait and closed in on his daughter. "You don't know how hard it's been to-"
The hunter-drone flashed his teeth at Gentry. The Changeling almost burst out of his skin, searing away flesh with a green surge of magic. The ivory-white fangs in his jaws, each hooked and sharp like a crescent moon, dug into the stunned father's neck.
He gurgled, more and more crimson ink spilling onto the hardwood floor. The pine bookcases and smooth, lacquered desk that made Gentry look like a learned pony painted themselves into horror poems. Splatters of rust-red paint plastered the room with the scene of a hunter-drone's success.
"Wish I could let you know how annoying you are," the drone muttered, licking his carapace clean of blood. "Your daughter would've left you, even if I wasn't the one playing the role. Who wants to listen to a pony who sticks his hoof into everyone's business before retreating into some unlit office?"
The hunter-drone kicked Gentry's flaccid head hanging from his body by a thread. "Boring old stallion. Riverfork should thank Princess Spectra for putting me here so I could free them from you."
Marina called out to the hunter-drone, sending clicks and croaks in the Changeling's native speech that pitched too high for ponies to hear. "Stop taunting a corpse. I'm flying overhead as a falcon and I can hear you muttering."
"Alright," he obeyed, "job's done."
"One job anyway," Marina said. "Just smelled another one fly by."
The drone stretched out his wings into feathered appendages, taking the likeness of an eagle. "What else is there?"
The grin in Marina's voice was unmistakable. "Someone better."
Carrier passed the fields of apple trees and wheat on the soaring wings of an owl. Fires raged below him, surrounded by dancers wrapped in white robes. Hastily hung strings crossed over the streets while dangling bright orange flowers. Their colour cast the town into a state of permanent sunset, but he was certain Princess Halfwing would disagree with its beauty, at least while she remained in her new form.
Under the sound of chanting and festive money-spending, he barely noticed the flipper-flapping sound of feathers gaining on him from above. Once he heard it, however, he didn't stop to look back.
"So, this is it then?"
"Ha!" Marina, talons sharp and long, slashed Carrier across his wing, sending him spiralling. "Says the drone who was looking for me."
"Did I say that?" He twisted his head and eyed Marina above him.
He winced but managed to find his balance. A generous thing, considering the kind of bird Marina had taken shape as. He wanted to beat himself over the head for lowering his guard just to observe Riverfork. If she wanted to, her talons could have snapped his neck and that would be the end of Princess Halfwing's orders to him.
A second pair of talons came up and clutched him. "Yes, it's written all over your scent."
Carrier coughed up his lungs at the vice that clamped his body shut. Another drone, covered in Marina and Princess Spectra's scent, dragged him through the air toward a windmill atop a hill. It was one of the few places in Riverfork's flat, fertile land with enough elevation for one. Without any grain to harvest until the end of summer, the mill was one of the most secluded places at this time.
Carrier landed, still tight in the drone's talons. "I could crush you if I turned into a bear, you know."
"You could," mused the drone, "but you haven't."
Marina landed, flashing her body with magic and returning to her pony form. "You're here, so I can only assume your princess is finished with the dragon. And that makes me wonder why you're back here so soon. Thought she had plans for Marblestop."
"So, you attack me to find out?" Carrier compressed his chest and stretched out of the drone's grip, slithering out in the form of a snake and growing up into a ram. "You could've asked."
She laughed, Marina, expanding her form into a manticore. "I know Princess Halfwing has her plans. You being here proves she's planning to take Riverfork for herself. But everything I've done is to satisfy my princess, not yours."
Carrier growled. "Do you think Princess Majesta hasn't killed Spectra by now?"
"Do you think she could kill Princess Halfwing?"
"Of course not," Carrier bayed, "she's too strong as a dragon."
"Then we're in the same position, you and I," Marina said. "I don't believe Spectra would have let her guard down around Majesta, and with the captain by her side, our pack would be too much of a threat."
"If you're so loyal to your princess, then you should listen to me. Princess Spectra can benefit from this as well. I'm not here to do anything to Riverfork, I've only been ordered to find and kill Princess Tenacity."
Marina gave Carrier some space after she processed the news. She eyed him carefully, testing the air with her nose. With her manticore form, she roared into laughter, her large, venomous scorpion tail mockingly pointing at Halfwing's captain. Somehow, the look of disbelief was able to come across in the face of her monstrous form.
"You? How did she expect you to do that? Ha!" Marina shrunk her size, returning to her pony form as she approached her drone's side. "The two of us caught you off guard and brought you down. I could have killed you with one swoop. What do you think Princess Tenacity could do to you?"
The other drone took on the form of a burly, cart-pulling stallion. "You let the title of 'captain' go to your head, whelp."
"That doesn't change the fact that Tenacity's here in Riverfork. Princess Halfwing smelled her here when she took her dragon form." Carrier stood his ground, still lowering his ram horns. "You might have the town now, but are you certain you can stop Tenacity from disrupting your control here?"
"Honestly? No. But you sound serious, so let me tell you this: you can't do it, she'll dominate you. You're asking drones to kill a princess, so you should know that that's what happens."
"With your position now, it doesn't have to be drones. You could help us," Carrier said.
Marina went silent. From where they stood, by the windmill, they could see it all alive with light. Marina didn't actually know how much power she had. For drones, making decisions strained their minds. They relied on their captains and princess to lead them. She wasn't sure how much influence she had, and she wasn't sure how to go about directing the forces.
"Think about it, she's a dragon now. A dragon! You know how strong that makes her, nothing can stand in her way. We're the only ones who even know about river-iron. If she attacked Spectra right now, do you think you'd be able to save your princess? Would any drone be able to?"
That grim truth connected something inside Marina. Being in the same pack, the other drone sensed it too. A gut reaction, some visceral disgust at even imagining being unable to protect Princess Spectra. It took a sizeable portion of restraint not to lash out Carrier that moment.
Princess Spectra couldn't afford more enemies. She hated admitting Carrier was right, but even in hiding, it was possible Tenacity had the power to sway drones back into her pack. And Spectra couldn't afford to divide her attention. Halfwing's dragon form would need every last drone in Spectra's pack to take down.
"I won't betray my princess for you," Marina scowled. "But for Princess Spectra, Tenacity has to die."
"So you see it my way now."
"Yes, but we do it ourselves. I haven't picked up Tenacity's scent before, she's probably out in the distant farms. That said, I don't think I could convince any pony in the Marblestop leadership to make executing an innocent farmer their first decree as the new leaders of Riverfork."
"Lieutenant," said the drone, "should I return to the council as Chevron? With his influence, it may be possible."
"Perhaps, but it'll be a tarnish on the record," Marina advised. "To turn the civilian ponies into complacent cattle, the leadership has to be seen as flawless. Killing Tenacity with pony troops will only make them question the new government the way we questioned the old system."
"I was planning on flying the skies myself if you refused to help," Carrier informed them both. "We can eliminate any of the nearby farms, we would've smelled Tenacity by now. Between the three of us, the outer farms won't be hard to cover."
"She'll hear us if we call to each other," Marina reminded him.
"She won't run away," Carrier said. "She had four drones with her when she left. Once she senses us she's going to be preparing for a fight. So, before we start, maybe I should be asking you one last thing."
The doctor hummed while he worked, stitching up the farmer's eye. A pretty bad fall, the stallion had a fragment of bone dislodged in his skull, healing back into an irregular shape. The only solution was to break the bone again and reposition it, letting it heal properly this time.
"Should've come to me first thing," he scolded the other farmers. "Could've done without the bone-breaking step if I had seen to it when it happened. Though, not sure if anything could've fixed the eye."
Tenacity nodded, her pony form wearing a face of deep concern for her fellow farmer. A lie. She just couldn't stand her drone walking into trees and tables that were just outside his view. The eye was fine, or it would be once the doctor left. With the bone back to its original position, the hunter-drone needed to simply transform. The process deconstructed their bodies at the smallest level, reconstituting organs and skin.
It was the cripples who couldn't overcome their body's trauma. Halfwing. The memory of her sister put a scowl in Tenacity, but she covered it up well with her disguise.
"How much do we owe the Medicine Guild for the surgery?" she asked him.
"Normally, I'd go back to town and the guild drafts up a charge of a few hundred silver coins," the doctor answered while sanitizing and keeping his tools. "But the strangest thing happened this morning before I took the carriage here. A messenger came from the council announced a new fund had been set up to pay for 'extraneous injuries or accidents.'"
"What does that mean?"
"Means the Riverfork treasury has already paid for the procedure." The doctor secured his bag onto his saddle with a couple of hooks and delivered a courteous nod to Tenacity and the other drones. "Good luck with the rest of your harvests. If you'll excuse me, it's late and I'll have to see if I can't find a carriage returning to town now. Have a good evening, all."
As soon as the front door closed behind the doctor, Tenacity dropped the act. "You all smell that owl circling the farm, right?" She waved a hoof at her recovering drone. "Hurry up and transform into something useful. If one of my sisters are coming, I'm going to need time to feed."
"What's the plan?" asked the young captain Lieu.
"Spread my scent around, make them think I'm here for as long as you can."
Lieu barked at the other hunter-drones. "The barn, get it open and go as bulls." Even under the threat of a battle, the captain was unnerved. Directing hunting initiatives for Princess Tenacity without tipping off the other Changelings in Riverfork was hard, everything was unpredictable. Preparing a defence, compared to that, was just a matter of execution.
"Don't follow me down. I need you to finish things up here and then find me a ship." Tenacity pulled off the key hanging by the back door and left her drones to work. Behind the homestead was the locked cellar door where she stored her loyal drones' bounty.
As she opened the door, a waft of stuffed, damp, hot air unpacked itself from the basement. The odour wasn't by accident. On its breeze, Tenacity could smell the mix of horror from her many different meals. They all moaned against the light from her horn. Cramped piles of chained-up ponies shifted to get a breath of outside air before Tenacity found their heads sticking out. She let them dance on the border of their fears, even if she could already pick out the best morsels with her nose.
"Come on then," she peered behind a box of waste where a father hid with two daughters. Lost among the rest of the ponies, they were the first ones locked up here, the original farmers. A thin, orange ray from the access hatch cast the nearing dusk onto their faces.
She usually left the farmers for her drones, but they had the strongest magic out of the whole larder. Inside them, flickers of hope added flavour and power to their magic, more than what Tenacity could drain from pure fear. She imagined it had something to do with wanting their home back.
She snapped the cuffs around one of the daughters with a burst from her horn and then pulled the filly to her, locking her down by the neck with one hoof. "I don't have all night, and I guarantee if you try to fight back, none of us will live to see tomorrow."
The little filly, nevertheless, screamed as she always did when Tenacity aimed her horn at the girl. All it ever did was make it harder to feed, but Tenacity pulled harder, gorging herself on the magic. There was no time left to torture the emotions out of them.
"Her pack's doing something." Carrier soared over the barn to take a third look. With the vision and hearing of an owl, spotting them was no trouble. But they looked like they were simply spreading fertilizer from the barn into the fields. There were four hunter-drones, one of them a lieutenant who gained the position of captain after Tenacity's last captain died.
Carrier tried to single her out by scent, but all the drones seemed about the same. He suspected the compost had something to do with it. But where Tenacity hid among all that stench was the major problem.
"Can't find her?" Marina and her drone swooped past Carrier as falcons, watching the farm with piercing eyes.
He flapped harder, but the owl form excelled in silence while falcons outpaced him in pure speed. "They've been setting up the field for the past hour. But, I definitely can still smell Tenacity down there."
"Us as well," Marina added. "It'll take days to fully cover up her scent. But at this rate, it'll also take us days just to figure out where on that field she's hiding."
The drones working as bulls made that point clear. The barn and homestead weren't the only places to hide. This far from Riverfork, the farms focused on growing wide tracts of rye, wheat, barley, and some corn. Each field was at least a few acres. On top of that, copses of trees separated sections of the fields.
"She could be anywhere down there as a snake or a cat and we'd never find her." Carrier's hooting turned increasingly agitated. Tenacity was arrogantly confident if she had planned all along to hide on a farm because of its natural scents. Changelings were unrivalled hunters, whatever his rank, he refused to be thrown off his prey by piles of compost.
He angled his wings and flew closer to the ground, scanning with his ears rather than his nose. The constant shuffling of the hunter-drones disrupted the surrounding sounds too, but there was an unmistakable groan building up on side of the farm. There were ponies and lots of them, all stuffed somewhere inside the homestead.
"If you had to fight for your life, how'd you prepare for it?" he called back to Marina.
She looked down and matched his level. "Get anything to give me a fighting chance, I suppose."
"Tenacity probably has the same idea. Sounds like a whole larder down there."
Marina cawed an order and her hunter-drone dove down to begin harassing the other Changelings. With sharp talons he raked at their eyes and necks, drawing aggravated moos that turned to violent hisses when he came a little too close. All four drones turned on him, taking the form of birds as well to get back at the falcon.
"He'll draw them away," Marina confirmed before landing on the roof of the house. "The two of us will have to be enough. If Tenacity's pack joined the fight too soon, none of us stands a chance of getting back to town alive."
Carrier expelled his feathers in a burst of magic and fluttered down on the chitinous wings of his Changeling self. Magic already started building up in his horn.
"Easy there," Marina cautioned him, choosing the body of a large, spotted jungle cat once she landed on the roof. "You wouldn't want to be one of those drones who shoot it out too soon."
"So full of jokes, you sound like a groundskeeper," he replied, strolling toward the pained moans of ponies. The cellar door was wide open and Carrier could tell that there was no light inside. Even with sensitive eyes, it was possible to hide in the darkest corners of a cellar.
Marina didn't follow immediately behind Carrier. "I smell her, but I'm still not sure where."
She cased the house, pacing around it and using her senses to try and pinpoint where Tenacity's scent was coming from. Nowhere was it stronger or weaker. Tenacity changed forms again, shredding off her skin and layering on new cords of muscle. Her snout expanded, snapping bones and expanding the skull to widen the nasal space.
She had the nose of a massive bear, one so large she could stand on her hind legs and peer above the single-floor homestead. Her sense of smell spread for miles, so far that she could still pick up the smoke coming from Riverfork. And then two scents hit her at the same time.
The first was Tenacity, coming from everywhere. The whole field smelled like the princess, as strong as if a hundred of her stood in the field. Marina's eyes looked onto where her drone harried the bulls. One of them had turned into a bat to try and fight him off, but the others continued spreading their fertilizer. That was the mask.
Any scent from Tenacity coming from beyond the farm would get caught up and mixed with the fertilizer. Eating magic couldn't have produced that kind of waste, but it was possible to secrete a slime or paste to mix into the regular fertilizer.
Marina would've turned to warn Carrier that Princess Tenacity was likely already gone, if not for the second scent. It was similar to Tenacity's but grew stronger by the second on the winds of the river, sailing in from a northern ship. Princess Spectra's presence immediately sharpened Marina's attention and triggered an urge to get rid of the other princesses' drones.
"Quit giving her time, Tenacity must've sensed us by now. She has to be in there." Carrier hissed at Marina. "I need your help in case she has a spell prepared."
Marina flayed off her excess muscle and returned to her jungle cat. "Right, I'll have your back." She picked her intentions carefully. Carrier was too focused on Tenacity to sense that Marina was hiding something, as long as it wasn't an outright lie.
With Princess Spectra nearing Riverfork, helping Carrier was counter-productive. Tenacity was gone, but she couldn't have run far away without her pack. Carrier would only get in the way of the hunt now. She kept a close eye on his back as they entered the cellar. The cellar was lightless but both Changelings were used to the dark.
Marina recoiled. Even for her, the room was gruesome. Countless bodies drained of magic hung plastered to the wall with green slime. In the caves of the hive, worker-drones had the ability to make acidic slime that ate away at the cavern walls. Marina sniffed the air. Apparently, Tenacity had figured out how to do the same during her time in Riverfork.
"Where is she?" Carrier fired a shot of magic into a pile of slime-covered bodies. He flung them back, but they never got up. Marina questioned if Tenacity even left them alive.
She shook her head. The poor hunter-drone still thought Tenacity was still on the farm. All Marina could do was raise her paw and give Carrier a merciful death. Her claws raked across the brittle chitinous carapace, and Carrier threw himself onto the ground.
He shot a bolt of magic, widely missing Marina. "What was that?"
Marina smelled the rush of adrenaline in Carrier's ichor. His aura smelled of surprise, but even he would catch on quick. She pressed her advantage and roared, slashing him once more across the eye. Before Carrier could send a second blast, she was on top of him, untransformed as a Changeling and driving her horn into his back.
"You think you can find Tenacity alone?" Carrier grit his teeth through the pain and twisted his body around, letting Marina's horn rip up his carapace just so he could face and blast her back into a wall plastered with slime and bodies.
The ponies clung on her, though just barely. Their last gasps for life were shortened when she pulled them from the walls and flung them onto Carrier. The hunter-drone ducked a few, but he was already weary from his injuries. The bodies crumpled him, throwing him on the ground with their weight.
Marina pounced on top of him, determined not to let a whelp like him get the better of her a second time. She stabbed holes into his chest and peeled back his black chitin, exposing the soft, watery flesh underneath. Carrier spasmed, but stopped resisting altogether.
His limp body leaked ichor across the floor. If he were any other creature, that'd be the end of that. But with Changelings, there was only one way to make sure. Marina plunged her fangs into his chest, tearing and slashing until she tasted his heart bursting into pieces.
Time was not on her side, though, and the satisfaction of the kill would have to wait. Marina turned into a falcon and shot out of the basement, leaving the ponies in their squalor to die. Tenacity was the only goal now, and there was no chance a princess of the hive would go down without the orders of another princess.
Riverfork's lights loomed into view on the black horizon. Summer nights on the river were still warm and humid, so it surprised Spectra that the citizens of the town could be revelling in the heat. She whistled to one of her drones for a spyglass, another useful tool ponies built for exploring on their ships.
It looked like decorations had been hastily thrown up on the roofs of the houses. Spectra watched for a while as her ship neared the docks. The celebration was nothing compared to the Autumn Fire Festival. But it still looked like a huge party. Lines of stallions danced around on the streets, carrying torches and bellowing chants to the wind.
Most of her pack ignored the sounds. Each hunter-drone, from her captains to her pawns, had ample experience living among ponies. But the youngest drones were her own children, born in a groundskeeper's nest in a farming village of Citrus Hills. Festivals were not something they knew very well.
"Those lights," Windcatcher came up to the helm, "is there something special about today?"
Spectra shook her head. "Not that I know of. But smell the air, past all the smoke. Do you smell the emotions?"
It only took one long draw of breath for her child to get the full dose of what she wanted him to feel. A spike of pleasure rushed through the young hunter-drone's ichor. Joy, brotherhood, excitement and relief, the sensations of the ponies were so strong that their aura carried across the river to their ship.
"We should feed on whatever we can before we head for the hive," he said with a grin.
"Maybe after summer, " Spectra smirked, "then Riverfork will have a festival worth going to. Right now, we have to deal with the other scent."
Windcatcher buzzed his wings, uncomfortable that he wasn't sure what his mother was talking about. Spectra waved away his confused look and kept to herself. He was her son, but he was still a hunter-drone, and she didn't want him to see what she was feeling.
Spectra didn't need him to understand, only to follow her orders. Even if she did tell him that she smelled Tenacity, he wouldn't have picked it up. He may have been mutated, but he was still young and inexperienced. Some scents were too overpowering to filter out of his head.
But Tenacity was imprinted in Spectra's mind. It was the same smell as their birthing pit. It smelled like dust, heavy and damp like pest-infested still water. She turned to the rest of the pack. Her very first captain kept the other drones in order while they pretended to work like normal sailors. The rooms and beds on the ship were so cramped, the hunter-drones were at risk of breaking out into fights with each other. Without control, her little piece of the hive would crumble into the tides of the river.
So she kept her composure, even though she was sure Tenacity had died. Out of all her sisters, Tenacity was the one she tolerated. On occasion, they could even be a team. But after getting this close to going back home, an old obstacle popping back up boiled Spectra's blood. When the planks under her hooves started to splinter from the magic seething out of her, she reeled back her emotions.
Riverfork was still her town. It seemed bigger than when she left it, but some of her drones were still in there, doing their job. She took a deep breath, and the smells calmed her. Spectra smiled.
"We're having a guest, captain!" Spectra descended from the helm, holding up her head like the conquerer she wanted to be. Even while wrapped up in his duties, her captain stopped giving orders to his hunter-drones and immediately attended her.
"Who is it, Princess?" he said with a bow.
"See if there aren't a few remaining glasses of wine. It's time to welcome an old lieutenant of yours."
The ship's teetering didn't help Spectra's boiling ichor. She sat still in the captain's quarters and listened to her lieutenant's report. The Marblestop takeover of the council, the dragon, it took all night to explain what Marina had done in Riverfork. Tenacity's presence was welcomed news. Spectra's vicious little sister seemed finally out of her depth.
"And you're sure you killed the rest of her drones?"
The lieutenant nodded with confidence. "I've been well-fed here in Riverfork. Out in the countryside, though, Tenacity's pack seemed underfed. She was reusing the same prey, eating their fear instead of getting new emotions."
Then that left only one problem. One massive, scaly, fire-breathing problem. There was no way in the world Halfwing could be killed as a dragon, Spectra believed. Her captain and lieutenant agreed. Killing a dragon in its cave was hard, but the closed space kept it grounded and made it easier to get in range to penetrate its scales.
"She can't fly, can she?" Spectra asked, worried over what her lieutenant might say.
The Changeling cast her eyes down, away from her princess. "I didn't think to ask her drone before I killed him. From the way he talked about her going to Marblestop, I don't think she can. But there's no guarantee."
Spectra grumbled and tapped her hoof on the captain's table. Either way, killing a dragon in open space would not be possible. Fire was the bigger weapon. In the open, Halfwing would have free reign to incinerate Spectra's pack, and it wouldn't matter if she owned all the river-iron spears in Riverfork. Which she did, as Marina.
"Captain," she called, commanding all the attention from the very first leader of her drones. "Organize the pack set a trap for Tenacity. Put a drone on every street of the docks."
"What about the skies, Princess? We make a show of force, and she might flee the town. The skies are much harder to-"
"She'll stay," Spectra cut him off, drawing a deep breath of air. "She must've picked up our scent by now. She'll stay if there's even a chance to take me out, which is why I'm the perfect bait while the pack will be waiting for Tenacity to trap herself on our ship."
"Yes, Princess," her captain bowed his head and exited the captain's quarters.
Heavy chested, Spectra sighed with her head on the desk. A dragon. How in the world did a Changeling as useless as her sister kill a dragon? She had half a mind to punish her lieutenant for helping Halfwing, but if she hadn't, the dragon would still be burning the countryside. Riverfork's bountiful flood plains made it a rich centre of trade. The dragon's fire could have devastated her hunting grounds if it continued to live.
"River-iron, what makes it so strong?" Spectra laid out a fresh sheet of parchment and grabbed a piece of charcoal off the table. If she had any hope of beating her sister, she'd need a new weapon.
"Normal iron would bend if it tried to pierce a dragon's scales," her lieutenant described. "But, with the Marblestop smiths, I found a process that makes the iron much sturdier. The notes are back in Marina's workshop."
Tenacity tightened the hood around her face. The cloak she ripped off a distracted merchant smelled like warm wine, a smell that only irritated the Changeling's senses further. Bonfires transmuted the already hot summer morning into a suffocating bank of swelling heat. Yet, even with smouldering fires from last night's festivities, the princess still shivered.
Her stomach flipped at the smell of roasting vegetables. Draining terror and pain out of ponies just to build up a little more magic turned out to be less helpful than she had hoped. Their magic left a bitter taste in Tenacity's mouth and made her stomach scream at her to let the power out. Her limbs felt as if they were on fire.
Where were her drones? They outnumbered their attackers, but was it enough? Tenacity kept her head down. It wasn't hard to keep their attention off of her. The ponies not hungover from the reckless excess were still sloshing around cups of wine by dying fires.
She had enough magic to flay the sailors where they stood if they annoyed her, which she strongly considered. Getting the magic out of her would help her body's condition.
Tenacity's knees buckled, her legs shaking. The princess stumbled off the street and caught herself against the stall of a grain merchant who had just opened up his stall.
"Ma'am, are you alright?"
Tenacity pulled her cloak around herself even tighter, almost covering her eyes completely. The sickness in her stomach made her gag at the smell of another pony. She was so overfed that the thought of another creature's magic threatened to break her concentration. Only the cloak helped focus her vision on what lied ahead.
Ships of all sizes moored at the piers that jutted out from the town. Almost like the teeth of a bear, wooden walkways raked the river and gathered up its goods. As Tenacity moved closer to the river, her sickness started to fade, suppressed by an even sharper focus.
Spectra's scent was everywhere. Tenacity couldn't pinpoint her drones through the heavy fog of fish, cedarwood, and fermented wine, but she knew her sister had spread herself thin.
There were a lot of questions running through Tenacity's mind. Where had her sister been since Marblestop? It was summer, so it must've been nearly six months since they saw each other. How strong had she become, living under the blessing of the hive and their mother's protection?
But those questions didn't matter. It didn't even matter if Spectra knew she was coming. Tenacity had enough magic to rip her sister's ship apart. Against that kind of power, Spectra didn't stand a chance alone.
By noon, the deck of the Ironmarsh ship was blistering with heat. Ponies were finally returning to their jobs after recovering from the night's drinking and dancing. Shops opened all at once and trafficked goods from one side of the market to the other. Boats from northern cities and towns offloaded crates of raw ore, fruits, and cloth. In return, river-iron spears and dried grain were hauled in carts onto the boats.
Spectra waited in the burning heat of the sun with her drone, Windcatcher. He looked like a wall of muscle next to her. Being natural large compared to normal drones, Windcatcher easily transformed into ponies who were taller and broader at the shoulders. His form as the pegasus captain of the ship looked like a giant compared to Marina.
Shifting back into her first pony skin was as easy as breathing. Marina's short brown mane fluttered in the air, looking a lot less elegant like the wavy smooth manes of other mares.
She wondered, for a moment, how Lunti's mane looked right now. The Changeling princess could hardly contain her anticipation of returning home to the hive. Her children were strong, using mutagens from magical plants to enhance their growth where a normal drone would struggle.
Like Windcatcher. Perhaps the only one of her drones that she could honestly consider as her son, the hunter-drone looked like a brute but proved his cunning by stealing the Ironmarsh ship without detection. He lacked a horn, due to the mutagen experiments on his egg sac, but we made up for it in size.
"Princess," Windcatcher pointed off the side of the ship to the pier. "That can't be her, can it?"
The cloaked figure trotting toward the ship carried an earthy scent, like mud and dust mixed with pine leaves, but it was definitely still Tenacity.
"Well, this'll be easier than I thought." Sliding off the ship, a single board of wood acted as the gangplank to the pier.
Tenacity paused at the edge and looked up to the top deck. The captain of the ship, definitely one of her sister's drone, covered the end of the pier with his shadow. She slowly walked up, careful to balance in the middle of the plank. Just falling off would jolt her stomach enough to cough up her stored magic.
"Been a while, sis," Spectra smiled, flipping her mane in the misty river breeze, "I thought the mines swallowed you up back in Marblestop."
Tenacity lowered her hood just enough to flash the whites of her eyes. Spectra recognized the kind of pony her sister had taken shape as. The roughly hemmed work clothes were for a stallion, covered in specks of dried mud. A farmer, definitely. But her coat was pale, her cheeks gaunt. The aura Tenacity gave off was saturated in frustration and pain.
Spectra stepped closer. It felt like she was standing next to a walking inflammation. "Not looking too good. Is food in the countryside that bad?"
Windcatcher kept his distance short, ready to push his Princess out of the way if needed. He knew he was a young hunter-drone, but he never had trouble reading a creature's emotions until now. He wasn't sure if Tenacity was confused, angry, or in pain. It wasn't all three. Some larger aura overtook her, masking everything else.
So it was fortunate he had other senses. The sound of her heart, its beats accelerated by adrenaline, warned him that she was ready for a fight.
"If we fight we'll be seen by every pony in Riverfork," Spectra lightly warned Tenacity. "Why don't we step into the captain's cabin and chat instead?"
"Go into a small closed space with you?" Her sister removed the hood completely from her cloak, grinning. "Of course, dear sister."
Windcatcher saw through the lie too late. Air fled his lungs as he hit his back against the mast of the ship. Spectra rolled back, aware her drone had been knocked down, and immediately alerted the rest of her pack with a high-pitched wail.
Tenacity's onslaught carried forward. The deck bowed and splintered under the force of the explosions from her horn. Spectra's call was cut short, dropping down into the cabins below. Wood shrapnel shot through her skin, easily drawing blood from her pony form's soft body.
So hard was Spectra knocked that she couldn't move for the few seconds it took to charge a spell. That was time which Tenacity made good use of to aim her horn and draw magic out from her body. The hair on their skin stood up as the air crackled with electrifying magic.
A whoop from behind Tenacity interrupted the spell. The princess turned to see a charging wall of muscle slam her across the head, knocking her through the door of the captain's quarters. Spectra could hear the sound of wood breaking. She drew on a small reserve of her magic to briefly turn into a sparrow and fly back above deck.
As she turned back to Marina, a searing beam of light nearly took her head. She heard Windcatcher howl and watched as he crawled out of the cabin with both right legs burned down to black stumps. Spectra stepped back as her hunter-drone continued to fight, forcing himself to stand on the thin black remains of his legs.
A table leg swung around and dropped the young hunter-drone back down. "Useless things."
Tenacity trotted out, her horn already glowing with another spell lined up. "You've relied on them so much, now you can't do anything yourself."
Without hesitation, Spectra ducked behind the mast to avoid Tenacity's shots. But the hit never came. Tenacity paced around the wooden pole, and Spectra did her best to move the opposite way to keep the mast between her sister and herself.
"Come on out, Spectra," laughed Tenacity. Though they hadn't seen each other in months, Spectra knew she was still the taller sister. It probably gave Tenacity great joy to know she was beating a bigger opponent.
Spectra ducked under her sister's aim the moment the hoof steps picked up speed and jolted forward. She rolled, regained her balance, and speared Tenacity's ribs with her horn. Tenacity fell over, involuntarily releasing a ball of magic out into the river, which burst and showered the ship with a torrent of water.
The siblings faced each other to keep fighting when a rush of hooves shuddered the pier and the boat. Though cut short, Spectra's hunter-drones clearly heard her summons. The scent of Changelings weighed heavy in the air as they stormed the ship one by one.
Not eager to face them all at once, Tenacity lashed out for Spectra's throat. A veritable swarm of hooves grabbed the princess, however, and pinned her down.
"Are you alright?" Spectra's captain hurried over to inspect her.
She pushed him away, gesturing to Windcatcher. "That one took the brunt of her magic. I'm fine."
Thrashing and screaming could be heard from the ship as the hunter-drones tried to subdue the princess. Arcs of crackling magic sprayed wildly out from the circle of drones around her. Two took the hits, going down immediately with unrecoverable burns to their limbs and face.
"Move," Spectra ordered one drone, forcing him aside so she could see her sister.
Stripped of her cloak, the princess's looked like any other farmer. The mare she posed as must have been the wife, or perhaps the eldest daughter. Though she seemed sick before, releasing all the excess magic brought colour back to her face. Blood from her chest pooled and dried at the wound, though for all her magic it seemed to Spectra that Tenacity couldn't focus her energy on healing.
"You've wasted the better half of the year hiding in a dirt hole," Spectra insulted her. "You're lucky I have the mercy to kill you."
"No, wait," Tenacity wriggled under the grasp of the drones. "There's no way you got rid of Majesta already. Whatever you've been doing, I bet Majesta's still stronger, isn't she?"
Spectra hesitated. That was a valid question, there was no guarantee that Majesta was lagging behind. Yet, looking around at her drones, her confidence couldn't be shaken. She had left with a sizeable pack, lead by multiple lieutenants and captains.
Windcatcher was dead, but the one who had posed as Marina had more than enough strength and wit to replace him. And her first captain, he was stronger than ever.
So, that was the consensus. "She's not stronger. You'd be surprised by how things can change."
"You've been gone so long, you don't even know how weak you are right now." Spectra laughed and gestured to her dead son. "That hunter-drone you burned, our mother didn't make him. He wasn't born in the hive, hidden away in some hole for weeks before finally seeing the sun. He's mine, and only mine."
Tenacity twisted her head as far back as she could and stared. The drone still twitched, technically alive in his pony form. But the wounds were inoperable. He was so weakened his body couldn't even return to its Changeling state.
"Fine, you're stronger than me," she admitted, not even bothering to lie. Among Changelings her aura told everything. "But you said he was born away from the hive. You've been away just like me. You can't afford to let me die, not if there's a chance Majesta's too strong for you-"
Spectra shut her sister's mouth with a smack from the hoof, forcing her to bite on her own tongue. Tenacity whimpered, sucking air through her teeth to deal with the pain.
"Majesta hasn't killed any of us," Spectra seethed. "Halfwing's alive, just like you. So I will be the only one us to kill a princess. That's something not even Majesta can claim."
Tenacity opened her mouth to protest, only to have it filled with a thrust from Spectra's horn. The bone protrusion cracked through bone and tissue, snapping the sections of soft cartilage in the neck. The hunter-drones bristled, some of them twitching in their eyes or tensing their jaws.
Spectra noticed the change in their aura, smelling the stress fade away as they let go of Tenacity's body. Though they identified Spectra as the best candidate for the next Queen, the death of a Changeling princess produced a reaction hardwired into their bodies from birth.
"That's one," she said to her drones. Down in the market, militia forces started marching down from the wooden walkways to the docks. The sound of battle had drawn the cavalry, and it was time to go.
Spectra stepped to the edge of the ship away from the town, facing the other side of the river. "Captain, send out a signal to any drones that didn't join you. Leave Marina here with a small pack, six or seven hunter-drones."
"How should we deal with the ponies?" he asked, looking down at the row of spears forming behind them.
"We're not." Spectra jumped off the ship, leaving behind a flash of ash and light to dive into the river with the body of a gator. "We'll just leave them asking questions. A little chaos to keep them on their hooves."
Looks of confusion spread across the other hunter-drones, read to follow the captain's lead. He looked over to his former lieutenant, the one who had taken so much initiative as Marina, who stood by the walkway onto the ship as a rough-looking sailor. They traded knowing looks, Marina showing confidence that she could handle the backlash from Spectra's display.
"You six, you're staying here," he ordered some hunter-drones standing nearby.
Heavy rattling shook the planks of the pier as stallions brandished their spears toward the ship. "By the Council's orders," announced one pony in the front ranks, "you're all under arrest for disturbing the peace."
Spectra's captain simply smiled. "Changelings!" he cried out, sending a wave of shrill hoots to the drones still in the town. "Follow your princess. We leave for the hive!"
"Septarian!" Fender braced against the wall while they pulled a chest from the collapsed house. It was one of the few houses the remaining ponies of Marblestop hadn't searched through. "It's too dark to keep digging. Let the boys head home, we'll start again tomorrow."
Septarian grunted, helping the younger colts force the chest through the split under the wall. The weight wasn't the issue, it was how much force they could use. They had to be careful. Even with Fender holding up the main section, the wall was still unstable. The caementine holding the marble bricks together had cracked apart without slaves to repair it.
He breathed a heavy sigh when they finally pulled it out. They'd bring it back to their camps outside the village, break open the lock and distribute whatever they found. Keeping Marblestop together was expensive. Only a couple hundred ponies were left from a village that once numbered in the thousands. Though they were free, it was a hard price to pay.
"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"
Septarian looked over his shoulder to Fender. The stallion was like a toy bear, massive in size but soft and friendly. When Marblestop was ruled by masters, Fender had been traded around as an efficient builder, miner, or cart puller. Based on his stories, it seemed like he ended up as a slave fighter a few months before Lady Changeling brought a revolt to the village.
It explained why he found Fender leading an army of young colts out in the farmlands, hunting timberwolves and gathering food from the mountain and forest instead of trying to rebuild. In his words, Marblestop gave him nothing but chains. Only nature could set him free.
That belief only made his friendship that much more valuable. It took a lot from Septarian to get Fender to agree to help, especially after news of the Changeling battle in the mines spread across the survivors. The identity of being a freed slave could not have been stronger in the minds of the ponies that we left. No debts, no masters, no one to give orders. The ruins of the once-great village became as lawless as the wild in front of Septarian's eyes.
"Yes, I'm thinking about her," Septarian finally confessed to his friend.
"Not my place to judge your heart, friend," Fender said, "but I need you to remember what you promised me. You can't forget how many died fighting a Changeling's war."
"Put our ponies first," Septarian repeated his oath. It was the only thing that kept their little patch of rabble-rousers together. Months ago, in-fighting would've killed the survivors. Families, clans, they stuck together in small herds and clashed over Marblestop's sparse farmland. Most weren't any better than thieves, stealing to get by, killing witnesses if they had to.
There wasn't much energy left in the ponies to talk on their way back. With so few strong labourers, Septarian's crew didn't even bother trying to live in the village again. They built a camp with the stones they picked off walls of houses, grinding pottery from the abandoned markets to make new caementine for a wall around the settlement.
Most of the ponies living there were mares and their children, fillies and colts more suited to picking berries than tilling the land or plundering homes. The official count changed as families came and left, but they numbered around a hundred and fifty ponies, with maybe only fifty or so able to endure hard labour.
"Looks like no thieves came today," Septarian said with relief as the colts pushed the haul into the middle of their outpost.
Fender clapped his friend on the back. "Marblestop was built on caementine. Nothing can beat that recipe out of us, it's in our blood."
"Where was that talk three months ago?" Septarian smiled. "As I recall, you were sleeping under a tree with honey on your face and bee stings everywhere else."
Fender laughed. "I still say it was worth it."
Septarian passed along more cheerful comments to the other ponies as they gathered around the recovered supplies. They spent a whole day hauling barrels and chests out from just one collapsed house, and that bounty alone looked like enough to keep their outpost together for another week.
Pickled vegetables in sealed pots, weapons for defence and jewellery for trading, colts passed all the goods out to the women and children hoping for enough to avoid going hungry the next few days. And in the middle of the commotion, Septarian took his chance to slip away into the forest.
He walked a good while until he reached a small cave in the side of the mountain. The entrance looked a little different. He remembered it was smaller. But, then again, Halfwing was smaller too. He entered the bear cave, slowly making his way to the back. This was where he and his friends held a mining master hostage. He recalled one of his friends telling him that a pony brought the master to the cave, then told them to wait.
Now he was waiting once again.
Halfwing dragged her tail into the cave, the same time as the past few nights. Sky held one strip of purple on its horizon, a last gasp of the sun before it dove under the distant borders of the eyes.
"How was your search?" she asked. Her voice was stronger than before, but her pace still bothered Septarian. Her dragon form limped as if it had been wounded, and her scales were growing thinner each day.
"I'm more worried about your search," he said. "You're still sick."
"Sick?" Halfwing pondered. "I roasted a boar alive today. I think I'm fine."
"What about the mines? Dragons eat gemstones, but you haven't had any."
Halfwing collapsed. With her tail and neck, her dragon form was as big as a bear and twice as long, but without gems, her scales were nearly transparent. Septarian felt them. Her hard natural armour was, at first, a sight to behold.
She had tracked him down a few days ago, catching him off guard while he was scouting the forests for new areas to forage. Then, her dragon form could easily tower over a house. They agreed to give their plan some time. Ponies in Marblestop were through listening to anything else. No masters and all that.
Halfwing wasn't happy with it. "A waste of time, they could conquer anything," she had said. But without her drone with her, she deferred the judgement to Septarian. She was a Princess, and would ultimately need a kingdom to rule.
Septarian cradled her head, which was large enough to take half his body in one bite, and swept his hooves across the fringes along Halfwing's head. "Tell me what's happening. I thought you needed to drain magic for food, but you haven't changed back to yourself since you got here."
"I am a dragon," Halfwing said. "Why would I want to be anything else? I just need to rest a bit longer."
Suddenly, she raised her head, aiming her nose out of the cave. "I smell ponies. They're near, but I think they're covered in tree sap. I can't make them out through the rest of the scents."
A gamut of thought cycled through Septarian's mind, but there was really only one pony he knew who'd cover himself like that just for camouflage. "That sounds like Fender. He must've noticed I went for a walk."
"Do your friends always cover himself with sap when he's looking for you?"
Septarian hesitated. "This one might."
"Let them come, then." Once stepped out of the cave, green magic started pouring through her veins, expanding her body to its true size. "I am a dragon after all. What can they do?"
Fender's voice roared like a bear's, impressing even Halfwing. But one by one, the colts following him cowered from her, electing to peer at her from behind wide-trunked pine trees.
"Septarian," Fender said shakily. His words trailed off, he didn't know what to say to a massive green dragon that seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"I think you'll want to talk to me," Halfwing said, curling her tail around the ponies to cut off the path they came up. "After all, I will be your new Queen, soon."
Septarian noticed his friend's glare. Small as he was compared to a dragon, the stallion was foolhardy to a fault and refused to back down.
"It's Halfwing," he told Fender before the stallion could shout something in defiance. "She came to me after killing the dragon that had been living in the mountains."
Gasps washed over the colts. They had no idea who Halfwing was, but all of them had seen the dragon one time or another. Things died everywhere the dragon cast its massive shadow. Some of them, no doubt, dreamed of slaying the dragon themselves.
"So, you still call yourself our saviour?" Fender wore his emotions proudly, a wide frown like a canyon tearing across his face. "I stayed out of your new Marblestop, but I was devastated when I saw the survivors of your battle fleeing into my woods. You don't get to come back here after what you did."
Halfwing blew smoke from her nose, the fire in her throat glowing her nostrils like two hot coals. "There's plenty of blame to share around. But it was my sisters who attacked and killed your kind, not me."
"Fender, she can change into a dragon, one of the powerful creatures in the world. " Septarian urged, pointing to Halfwing's smoke. "Hear what she has to offer us. We need her power as much as she needs us."
After a moment, the tension in Fender's muscles left. He calmed himself with a few breaths, and then took a step back and let Halfwing explain.
And she could've lied, told a story that made her sisters seem like terribly evil creatures. Only, there was no lie she could come up with worse than the truth. For Septarian's sake, everything was laid bare. Halfwing recounted how her wing had been crippled by her sister, and how her mother applauded Tenacity for the action.
Fender glanced at his colts, some of them too young to really understand what Halfwing was asking of them. Then he looked back to Septarian. "Come on, brother, we're a team now. Don't do this to me."
Septarian furrowed his brows. "We're not going to lose, Fender. She's a dragon! We go with her to the hive, burn the rest of the Changelings and end the damn feud that got us in this mess to begin with."
"She's still one of them." Fender's hotheaded posturing brought out a smirk from Hlafwing. "A Changeling can lie and just become whoever they want and get away with it."
"Not me," Halfwing mused, flicking her tail around.
"You can change your shape, but not your heart."
Halfwing laughed, the sound echoing in the dragon's throat so much that it quaked the air around them. It felt as if a drum was beating in her chest, reverberating like she was a massive cave. The air compressed around their ears, causing a headache. While the ponies clutched their head from the sound, Halfwing shot a ball of fire over Fender's head, crashing it against a tree.
"I am a dragon," she raised her head, "reborn from the chest of the dragon I killed."
She reached a claw into the earth and ripped the roots of a tree straight out. "Schemes of Changelings are beneath me. I have power now. Nothing will stop me from my justice."
"Yes, you're great and powerful and could kill us all if you wanted," Fender said. "Go take your revenge and leave us out of it."
"Oh but that won't do," Halfwing's tone shifted fast, turning soft as she caressed Septarian. "My darling is here, among you. How can he rule by my side if he's with all of you?"
"He won't. He's not yours to take."
Septarian's skin went pale. He wanted to stay with Halfwing, but he didn't think Fender would give up so easily. He stepped between them, facing down his friend. "Calm down. Halfwing's not taking me anywhere if we can all work together."
Fender snarled at him. "What happened to 'put our ponies first?' She said it herself, she was reborn. She's not Lady Changeling anymore, you don't owe her anything."
The words pierced him. Halfwing narrowed her eyes at Fender. Even without a Changeling's nose, she could smell the sadness in Septarian. He didn't want to be apart from anyone, but it seemed Fender wasn't giving him much of a choice. It made Halfwing's blood begin to rush, blurring her perception.
In any other case, a Changeling would have full control over their form. Animal instincts were replaced with their own. But the dragon's power broke down her own will. Either by magic or by nature, nothing could stop her from tensing her neck, aiming the end of her jaw toward Fender.
"Everything is mine to take," she growled. "You cannot challenge a Queen!"
Halfwing grew as she roared. From being the size of a house, her tail grew to wrap twice around the ponies. Her scales thickened, expanding rather than growing new layers. Trees cracked against her ribs, giving up their roots to the Queen of Beasts. With a single beat of her wing, a few colts hiding behind Fender lost their footing and were flung back down the mountain.
"Halfwing, what are you doing?" Septarian ran up to her and waved his hooves. "Calm down, they'll never listen to you like this!" But with her head so high up, Halfwing couldn't hear him.
She laid a blanket of fire over the trees. Septarian's eyes ached, trying to adjust to the bright orange blazes. After a moment to refocus, he rushed to get Fender. The rest of the colts were already fleeing, tripping over roots and branches to avoid the dragon.
Septarian did his best to drown out a sickening crunch somewhere among the trees. Fender managed to get further back down the path, along with two older colts who were trying to push a fallen tree off of his leg. Septarian joined them, using his back legs to roll the trunk to the side.
"You made her mad," Septarian coughed, covering his nose.
"We'll talk later," Fender grunted as he leaned against Septarian and limped.
"Where are you, little thieves?" Septarian looked back and saw how frenzied Halfwing became. There was an unmistakable body of a colt in one claw being swung around to batter the trees down. Halfwing breathed more gouts of fire, catching more trees around her until there was nothing but fire.
"No, you have to go," Septarian said, once he was sure the other colts could handle Fender's weight. "Halfwing won't be able to calm down until I'm with her."
Fender coughed through the smoke. "You're kidding yourself if you think you can stop that. Even if she'll listen to you, you'll never make it."
"We've been through worse," Septarian said. "I'll get through to her."
He pushed the colts to keep running while he turned back to wildfire behind him. Preferably, he thought to himself as she started galloping back, before the whole forest goes up in flames.
The ground was black with ash. While the ring of fire expanded farther out, Halfwing had burned so much around her that there was nothing left for the fire to catch on to. The edges of burned logs were white, wood ash settling into a thin layer on top of the charcoal.
"Halfwing?" Septarian ran through the smoking embers to the mass of soot and green scales in the middle of the circle. "What did you do to this place?"
She raised her head, revealing their cave underneath her chest. "I knew I'd find you," she said, smiling. "The fire was a little chaotic, I know, but you did exactly what I thought you'd do."
Once he was close enough to see the glint in her teeth, Septarian slowed his pace to a halt. "I did?"
"Yes, of course!" she cheerfully rubbed the end of her tail against his neck. "You're here, aren't you? When that pony said you should stay with him, I couldn't handle it. The thought of losing what's mine, it was just too much."
Halfwing's eyes flashed red as she watched him shuffle around in the dust. They looked bloodshot from the smoke, but it didn't seem to dampen her spirits.
"Yeah, that's great, but without the other ponies, I don't know how much I can help." Septarian gently moved away from her tail. "If you really want to get take over your hive, I think we should go our separate ways for now."
Halfwing blinked. "Why say this now, if you wanted to come back to me?"
Septarian threw a hoof up, scattering ashes everywhere. "I came to stop you from burning down your own land! Look around you, Halfwing."
For once, he raised his voiced against her. "This dragon act has gone too far! Your wildfire is still cutting a path through the mountain, and the fall rains won't be here for a few more weeks."
"Look at me," Halfwing chuckled, raising a claw, "I'd hardly call this an act."
"It didn't have to be fire!" Septarian began shouting, forgetting he was talking to a dragon and imagining Halfwing as the Changeling he met almost a year ago. "You can be a bear or a unicorn, you can use magic to show off your power. You didn't have to burn the forests, the same forests my survivors use to find food."
Halfwing looked down. "I'm not pretending, Sept."
"No, you are," he said. "I'm willing to guess you've thought of nothing but revenge ever since you killed that dragon. I get that you feel powerful." He scooped a pile of ashes off the ground. "Every pony can see how strong you are. But you've gone too far."
"You saw me try to shrink down, I can't do it!" Halfwing flapped the air in frustration, summoning a whirlwind of ash around them. "I'm not joking when I say I've been reborn, Septarian. There's always a price for power. I ate the dragon's body and magic until it became a part of me. I can't control it, can't tell it to be something it's not."
Septarian paused. "I don't--how is that possible?"
"Does it matter?" Halfwing lowered her head to Septarian's level. "We don't know how the seasons change, or why different birds grew to live in different climates, but we still live. So I'm going to do that, starting with the death of my mother. After what she did to me, what she let my sisters do, she doesn't deserve to live in my future."
She stared at him, eyes the size of his whole head. "Join me, and I'll do you a favour and cut off the wildfire. I can burn the trees ahead of the flames until there's nothing left for them to eat."
"And if I stay with my people?" Septarian asked sheepishly.
"Then I hope you have your own plan for fighting the fire. Because I am a dragon, Septarian. I don't do favours for free."
Every drone in the hive lowered their gaze in the presence of the Queen. The main cavern of the hive was filled with heavy egg sacs from Majesta's work. They were numerous, enough to create three packs of drones. Or at least they would, were it not for one problem.
The Queen stomped. "Ill formed and malnourished worker-drones will not be the future of this hive!"
"I can't feed them magic and manage their nutrients at the same time," Majesta whined in protest of her mother's disapproval. "If I worked any faster, they'd grow to fast and starve before their internal organs formed."
Her mother's eyes shot a penetrating look that turned disappointment into rage. "Oh, so you are the expert on these things?" she asked. "You presume you can tell me how difficult it is to grow a few measly drones?"
Majesta immediately felt the urge to kneel down in front of her mother. The other drones did it without hesitation. But Majesta fought her influence, her willpower the only thing holding up her legs.
"Maybe I just do things differently," she said. "What's the point of this test? I can't create knowledge. If I'm going to be Queen, won't I have the secrets to creating drones anyway?"
The Queen snickered. "Little Changeling, asking for all the answers to her problems. Is that the fate of this hive? To grow stagnant with the impossible challenge of learning from our own experience?"
Majesta tensed but said nothing. After a final inspection of her eggs, Majesta fond herself crawling back into her hatching cave to start working again.
The cavern was finally coming together into something mildly hospitable. Lunti grunted as she piled leaves from the surface to refill her sleeping space. She watched as worker-drones did their work, bringing fresh food, removing waste, and maintaining the thin hole they had bored into the mountain, the only lifeline of water and fresh air from the surface.
Chevron, a haggard old man, kept himself curled up in a corner. Inflexible. Lunti scoffed at him. With Spectra gone on whatever hunt she needed to do, there was no one to protect them in the Changeling hive. Rather than sit in their own waste and wait for a hungry Changeling to lose control and devour them, she kept herself busy.
The only helping hoof she got was from Orange. The chanter from Marblestop still refused to give her real name, but it didn't matter. Orange worked fine, even if her cloak had turned brown from days of hard work.
"It's warm," Orange said, taking her mouth off the trickle of water that came down their spout.
"The hive lives in a jungle," Lunti said. "It's always warm."
Orange shook her head and dragged Lunti over to feel it for herself. It really was warm, far more than usual. Her heart sank at that moment, realizing it meant that summer was here. It had probably been summer for a while if the water had managed to heat up.
"I keep telling you, we need a plan to escape," Orange told her firmly.
Lunti's eyes flicked over to the worker-drones, who were well within ear-shot of their whispers. But the unease passed. She had trouble feeling comfortable around them, but after months in the hive, Lunti learned how the hive and its drones worked. The smaller workers were as mindless as any other insect. They'd forget what they heard the moment they left the cavern.
"Not until Spectra comes back," she said tiredly. This was not their first conversation about escape. "The other princess won't think twice about killing us if we're caught. Spectra might punish us, but we'll live to try again."
The two mares argued over how they could free themselves, though being the only two ponies with their sanity still intact, they learned to bear with each other's differences.
They reviewed their options, while they tended to the few mushrooms that they discovered were edible. Orange suggested hiding in the waste that the worker drones threw out. It was a good plan, but even if they left the hive they'd be days or weeks from any other ponies. They'd be hunted down for sure.
They scraped away old mulch and fed their little mushrooms fresh, moist fertilizer as they talked. Rotting leaves and spoiled fruit didn't smell great, but also long as the mushrooms kept growing, they'd have food to eat whenever the drones forgot to harvest from the surface.
But however much they disagreed, both mares knew to shut their mouths once the entrance to their cavern opened. A tall figure among hunter-drones walked in.
Lunti's heart skipped a beat, believing it could be Spectra finally returning. But her hope was crushed when Majesta barked orders at her hunter-drones to hold down the guards.
"This'll be quick," she said, her voice slightly deeper than Spectra's, "I don't want those things interrupting me."
Orange scrambled for a place to hide, ducking behind a boulder matted in glowing mushrooms. Majesta spotted the movement with her enhanced vision, of course, but ignored it.
"You have to know something!" she bellowed, marching straight toward Lunti. "Spectra treated you like a pet more than her prey. You have to know something about where she went."
The princess didn't stop until she had Lunti pressed up against the wall, so close they could feel each other's breaths. Her chitin was black, smooth, and polished. Her body was outlined with the soft blue glow of the cavern's mushrooms. In the light, Lunti could see Majesta's eyes, blue compound orbs made from hundreds of reflective specks that made it difficult to know where to look.
"She hasn't been around for a long time, that's all I know," Lunti said carefully.
Majesta's eyes showed nothing, but Lunti saw the glint in her fangs as the princess snarled. "You know, we're not supposed to tamper with each other's pantries. The guard-drones outside your door wouldn't even let me in. It might be the only way our mother ever tried giving us a fair chance."
Lunti felt her legs give out under her, and in an instant Majesta was on top. "But I am the only princess in this hive now. I am its future. I will get what I want."
"Read my magic or whatever it is you do," Lunti spat defiantly. "You won't find anything! Killing me gets you nothing."
Majesta's lips betrayed her emotions, even while her eyes and posture maintained their controlled and measured demeanour. Her grin was hungry, teeth soaked in saliva at the scent of Lunti's panic. "Maybe I want to see you squirm, meat."
"Princess," one of her hunter-drones barked from outside the cavern. "You'll have to eat them quickly if you're feeling hungry."
Majesta whirled around, her legs suddenly widened, taking a defensive posture. "I said no interruptions! I don't smell the Queen anywhere near us, so keep it to yourself."
"But it's Princess Spectra, your Highness," the drone stuck his head into the cavern. "Drones from the patrols just returned. She has a swarm with her, Princess, and they're tearing a path straight for the hive."
The guard-drone, specially built by the Queen to act as perfect sentinels, moved with staggered breaths as Spectra's drone pulled its horn from the guard's neck. It didn't have the capacity to gasp in anguish, but another drone covered the guard's mouth anyway. It would shriek an alarm in its final efforts to protect the hive and obey the Queen.
"Move faster," Spectra snapped, passing her children by in an unending march for her home. She let the youngest drones lead, children born from her own magic and eggs. Her packs grew day by day because it needed to. Majesta was the largest of her sisters and the strongest. The perfect princess that their mother wanted. If she was to not just win but dominate, she needed her packs to be strong.
The largest of her drones, the children who came out of their eggs overgrown, lumbered in the back, dragging the bodies of gators from the wetlands, caught by her veteran drones and kept alive to feed her young. Spectra wished she didn't have so many delegated to hauling supplies, but she couldn't help it without a complete understanding of the mutagens she used.
Instead, she had to deal with a dozen oversized hunter-drones. They were strong but too large and slow to do actually hunt with their brothers. Spectra looked ahead, catching a scent and wondering if her youngest drones had picked up on it too.
Three young brothers in the front dashed to the right. "There!" they shouted, snatching up a guard-drone silently waiting in the leafy undergrowth of the jungle. If it were one hunter-drone, the guard would have destroyed it without batting an eye. But the three brothers were hatched on the same day and fought viciously for each other.
Another weapon stolen from the ponies. Their willingness to cooperate. There was a time and place for culling the weaker drones, but for now, she needed even the weakest of her pack to rise up.
Her captain circled over the pack as a vulture, carrion-feeding birds that he had apparently encountered in a great desert hunting ground. He cawed, relaying messages from the other captains to Spectra.
"No groundskeepers yet," he passed on, "but we've killed two patrols of hunter-drones. Twenty died, while the other six broke under the commands of the captains."
Small patrols, then, Spectra thought to herself. She expected losses by now. She could smell the hive already, they couldn't be more than a few hours away. The hive was the heart of their species, even if the drones welcomed her back, they should've been seeing them.
"Any sign that Majesta has a trap?" Her captain received the message and cast it to all the other packs. She had her drones spread around, encircling the hive in a crescent. Keeping constant communication with them was crucial to knowing what was waiting for them.
And yet she like she was surrounded by unknowns. After a few minutes, her captain passed on the consensus from all the packs. Changeling activity in the jungle was nearly dead. The scent of Majesta's drones was scarce. If there was a trap, it didn't involve her forces.
Spectra wondered if Majesta had left the hive as well, scouring pony towns for her own solution to the problem of creating drones. But that didn't set her mind at ease. If that was true, where were her mother's drones? There was no chance Majesta had the hive to herself. The hive's Queen was still in control. Which meant her scent should have marked the jungle as well.
Spectra put herself in her mother's mind. As she thought about what the Queen could be thinking, she watched as her youngest drones marched forward, searching for guard-drones to hunt.
"Captain," she said, "I don't think it's a trap."
The vulture above her cocked its head down at Spectra. "No, not likely."
The answer wasn't hard to find. The Queen was doing to her daughters what Spectra was doing to her drones. Forcing them to fight the guards, seeing if they could be the stronger one.
"She can't do anything without the help of ponies!" Majesta shouted, demanding her mother listen to her cries. "Is that the daughter you want? A spineless coward who runs from a challenge?"
But the tunnel to the top of the hive, the Queen's private chamber, remained silent. Around the princess, her drones buzzed their wings and shifted their steps, waiting for the order to defend the hive. She had maybe a hundred hunter-drones, all veterans with powerful captains and lieutenants.
"Which one of you have seen Spectra's pack?"
The drones eyed each other, searching. Eventually, they all settled on the one who had alerted Majesta before. The drone shrimped away. "I heard the fighting and ran to warn you. I didn't see them, but they killed a whole patrol group without slowing down."
Majesta snarled. She had the bigger pack before Spectra left, and she was willing to bet that was still the case. But the gap between them had clearly shrunk. She cast her head up to the tunnel above. Her mother was watching. Queen Chrysalis was judging her.
She didn't care, she didn't even bother to calm her anger. She let it fill her more than ever. "I know you. I've been exactly what this hive needs. You don't get to judge me like Halfwing!"
There was no time to wait. A swarm of tunnel snakes could slither down the tunnel and transform back into Spectra's pack. For Changelings, the narrow passage was not a choke point, but the ideal battleground. Majesta turned away from her mother's chambers and stormed through her drones, crawling over the stalagmites jutting from the cavern floor. She hissed at one of her captains.
"Bring me Spectra's prey. I don't care if you have to kill the guards this time, but I want the one called Lunti alive." The hunter-drone nodded, signalling with clicks and hisses to his drones to follow him to the lower levels of the hive.
The hive, from the outside, was nearly invisible to the world. The mouth of its massive cave was as green as the rest of the jungle. Shrubs, grass, moss, and wide-leaved trees sprouted from the dirt that had fallen in over hundreds of generations. It had no flapping sails or sturdy metal weaponry. But, after being away for months, there was no better sight for her eyes.
"They will be here soon," her captain said.
She stood with her pack, though behind two rows from hunter-drones. They had hatched no more than three days ago, but for those few days, they knew only killing and marching. Spectra expected most, if not all, of them to die. But after that, she'd have time to rebuild.
And prepare for Halfwing.
Cold dread crawled up her spine. The thought itched in the back of her mind, imagining if dragon fire burned her life's ambition in just seconds. Fire could flood the higher tunnels, never reaching the hive itself, but from her experience flying in the many forms of birds, she knew what hot air did. A current could form, rising and pulling all the air out from the hive, suffocating every guard, hunter, and worker drone until only the sleeping light-drones lived on in their egg-sac, illuminating a mass grave.
Spectra bit her own lip, drawing ichor from the shallow cut. It wasn't much, but the pain was enough to snap her out of her fear. Majesta wasn't a threat the way Halfwing would be if she really could be a dragon, but her larger sister was still an impossible challenge.
"Sound the order to prepare spells," Spectra told her captain. He quickly complied, jumping into the air and taking off with the wings of a parrot. The songbird's loud cries carried Spectra's orders to every pack surrounding the hive's entrance. A quiet hum of magic began to fill the air, sounding like a thousand cicadas slowly waking up and singing their little songs.
Below, packs of Changeling drones released warning groans, using low rumbling calls that would echo far down the tunnels. Majesta sat in the back of her swarm, but with her drone's calls, she knew exactly how to direct the battle.
Both sides bordered at the mouth of the cave, one swarm above, one swarm below. Spectra elicited a high-pitched order from the top of her throat, commanding her drones to wait back behind the jungle's trees, using cover to their advantage. Majesta waited as well, gathering her drones so they could rush out and pass the trap Spectra had laid out for them.
Caution hit its boiling point after minutes of rumblings and screeches, and both princesses ordered the charge.
The first volley of magic transformed the first of Majesta's drones into ash. But more swarmed out, quickly flocking to the air as falcons or parrots. The drones flew up the mouth of the cave, winding behind the underground trees for cover until they emerged to face their brothers on level ground.
Spectra shot arcs of her own magic at the largest drones, captains who wore armour fashioned from the carapaces of defeated brothers. Two went down, despite their best efforts to evade Spectra's aim. But she alone wasn't enough. The difference between newborn and veteran drones became quickly apparent.
Majesta's frontline warped their flesh into the bodies of bears, manticores, jungle cats, and all other manners of vicious beasts. Compared to Spectra's children, most who were too young to turn into anything, they were unstoppable predators.
Drones one or two days old fell first, but they fought hard nevertheless. While one brother distracted a drone who had become a bear, another rammed its horn into the bear's neck. It roared with pain before tearing both drones apart with its massive claws.
"Captain!" Spectra yelled to her left, "cut them off!"
The hunter-drone, busy bringing down falcons circling above them, shifted his attention fast and issued an order to his lieutenants. At once, a pack of about twenty veteran drones flew out from the jungle trees, fly as a flock to stop the rest of Majesta's drones from joining the fray.
"No!" The larger sister yelled as she heard the dying wails of her drones. Majesta knew her frontline had been surrounded.
Behind her, and all the drones that remained as her guards, one pony looked slyly at her. Though she was tied in rope, Lunti still watched with some satisfaction at Majesta's frustration. The mare kept a close eye, crawling further back down the tunnels. It seemed crazy, going back into the hive, but one stray shot of magic could electrify or incinerate her, and she didn't feel like finding out which would happen.
She made it maybe ten or fifteen paces away before Majesta noticed her scent fading. The princess whirled her head around, rushing past her drones, and snapped up Lunti's ropes in her teeth.
"Oh-ho, you don't get to leave," she growled through her bite. "You're coming up there with us."
She threw Lunti toward her drones. "Take her up!" she barked, "make sure my sister knows her pet's here to play."
The drones, a small pack of six, each took hold of a part of Lunti and dragged her up the mouth of the cave. The ropes did little to stop her squirming, but it was all welcomed. The better the noise, the better the bait.
Majesta launched herself into a sky, piercing the air with the narrowed wings of a falcon before stooping down and crushing one of Spectra's drones with the legs of a massive wetlands gator. The sound of her roar, guttural booming from the throat of a gator, carried over the battlefield. Every Changeling there heard it, no doubt.
Lunti fought as much as she could, but the drones dropped her at Majesta's hooves easily. "Come on then!" she taunted, snapping the leg of another young drone and smashing its back against a tree. "Mother thinks you could beat me. Show her, then!"
Majesta's scent spread across the battlefield, but the of a pony's fear was unmistakable. Spectra recognized Lunti's scent and locked on it the moment it was dragged out of the hive. "You see her?" she shouted to her captain.
A vulture in the air screeched a confirmation and then ordered drones all over the battlefield to change their target to the enemy princess. Spectra's own children responded to the call first. Those who were surviving the battle had the size advantage. Her hunter-drones were varied in their mutations, but a number of them were gifted with powerful limbs and faster growth.
Just a few days old, five brothers as big as Majesta herself charged, barring all their fangs. Spectra watched, unsurprised, as her sister slipped by their attacks, using control over her magic to quickly turn into a jungle cat and slash open their necks before returning to her true form.
Majesta sniffed the air, following the scent on the drones to find Spectra. She laughed. "This is what you brought?" Their eyes locked, Spectra challenging Majesta's taunt.
Hunter-drones jumped out of the battle and took their turn to charge on Spectra. They had become slender jungle cats with long claws, but she could still smell Majesta's aura on their fur. She stood her ground, launching arcs of electrifying magic at all four drones. They froze in place, their muscles seizing to the sudden rush of energy. It was a short pause, but enough for Spectra's captain to swoop down and claw out their eyes with his talons.
"I will take that throne!" Spectra shouted back, waving a horn charged with magic as if to prove she had more power. Her goading worked.
Majesta charged, leaping into the air and becoming a massive beast. She wasn't slender like the other drones, she had picked a heavy striped creature. The tiger clawed at Spectra, but she moved back and roared into the body of a bear. They clashed with fangs and claws, but Majesta clearly burst forward with more power.
Spectra felt her head fly forward as Majesta crashed into her stomach. She doubled over, shrinking her form into a hound to escape Majesta. Her nimble movements avoided Majesta's claws, but it made it impossible to strike back.
Frustrated, Majesta swung herself around, her tail growing and growing, until her body was a green viper coiling around Spectra's legs. Venomous fangs shot out at her, but Spectra kept her form changing. Her fur burned off from a huge surge of magic, stitching together muscle fibres into the form of a giant owl.
She beat her wings and dragged her sister into the sky by her neck. Majesta flailed, wildly whipping Specta's back with her tail, but nothing could unhook a bird of prey's vice-like grip.
"I'm a better princess and a better fighter," Spectra mocked, shaking her sister around in the air. They rode the wind, travelling further and further back from the battle until the only drones on the ground were Spectra's rearguard.
Majesta quickly countered, stretching herself larger and transforming into a constricting snake. The constrictor was far too long and heavy for her. As they fell, muscles like bars of iron bent around her. She tried transforming out of the crushing force, but the constrictor choked the magic out of Spectra. Each time she tried changing her form, a tightening coil cut off her concentration.
Spot danced around in Spectra's vision. With her owl form, she swivelled her head around and searched for her captain, but both sides' veteran hunter-drones were locked in their fight. Majesta's body continued to tighten around her, and quickly Spectra began to lose her vision.
She screeched out for help, but opening her mouth only made it easier to crush the air from her lungs. For what felt like an eternity, Spectra fought back in total darkness, struggling with all her willpower even when her own senses had lost their strength to fight.
But a cry peeled open a gap, and she felt her chest explode with life again. Spectra didn't hesitate and slipped out of her sister's coil in the form of a snake before reshaping into her own body.
"Hurry up you damn drones," she heard Lunti shout at the rearguard. Spectra watched, utterly confused. "Your captain says you have to fight!"
Spectra's shot over to her captain, who was fighting off two bears with the form of a manticore. He was cut off from Spectra, same as the rest of her pack, but at his feet, rope bindings were slashed apart. Spectra turned back to Lunti, who was already losing her fight against Majesta. Her own young children came to mind. Changelings always underestimated ponies.
Her rearguard, the oversized mutants almost too slow to do anything, lumbered to the rescue. The constrictor hissed and glowed bright, trying to transform, but just with Spectra before, Majesta lost her concentration at every attempt. One drone simply sat on her head, his weight more than enough to cut off the air she needed.
"Watch for her tail!" Spectra warned her drones. Immediately, one of the giants lumbered over and yanked down on the end of Majesta with his bite. The constrictor snake's muscles were as solid as stone, but the drone's thick neck fought back against the whipping and coiling motion. Despite the drones' help, it was still enough to throw Lunti off.
Spectra did not hesitate. She jumped on her sister, raining blow after blow. She used her magic not to send strikes of energy, but empower her muscles and thicken her chitin. Each strike was like a hammer beating metal, crushing it and warping it to the way Spectra wanted.
She didn't notice, but the pain on Majesta had an effect on her drones. They recoiled from their skirmishes, hardening their focus on their princess's pain. In the brief distraction, they fell one by one to their focused opponents. Spectra pushed away the giant drone sitting on Majesta's head and took its place.
She did not hesitate. Spectra jumped on her sister, raining blow after blow. Magic empowered her muscles and thickened her chitin, so that each strike was like a hammer beating metal, crushing it and warping it to the way Spectra wanted. And she did not stop until the constrictor stopped writhing.
Queen Chrysalis smiled down at her child, watching the march of funny looking, oversized drones dragging a constrictor's body down to the heart of the hive. All at once, memories of her own succession flooded back. The Queen couldn't even remember how long ago it was.
She had seen ponies in the Pen grow old and die countless times, and it all clumped together in one blurred frame of time. But now was not the day to look back. Her daughter, appearing in no particular way unique, had managed to crawl back to her home, victorious.
Tenacity was a wild flame, eager to kill anything. But chatter among the drones confirmed Spectra had let that fire burn out. Majesta was an imposing figure but trusted in herself too much to change. Too much like the Queens of the past.
Chrysalis shook herself out of wonderment and focused on Spectra. Her drones filled the hive, forming rings around the main cavern. Beside her, the first pony she had taken from the surface stood meekly. The renewed pride was written on her aura.
Good. The Queen could only as to what she was thinking, but there was loyalty in her emotions. Spectra would need all of it. There was a long path to become the Queen.
"You have done well, daughter," Chrysalis said, for once speaking with joy. Spectra's eyes lit up at the scent, but her posture remained composed. "And at just a year old. It's been summer for quite some time. I believe your birthday was a few weeks ago."
The Queen's laugh was cold, even as her aura exuded a sweet peppermint smell. "I think it's time we had our little Queen to Princess."
Spectra fought the urge to jump to her mother's side. She gave herself time to collect her thoughts, turning around to look at all her drones. Her captain stood out from the pack, proudly wearing the ichor of his dead brothers. She nodded to him, casting her eyes over to Lunti, expecting him to know to bring her back to the pantry.
The rest of the drones could be organized by the other captains. Spectra hurriedly stepped up to the Queen, wearing a serious face. "My sisters are dead. Whatever the hive needs from me, I'll handle responsibility."
"I don't doubt it," Queen Chrysalis said, "but every Queen needs to know the importance of the mantle. Follow me. I'll show you what it means to be Chrysalis."
Lunti watched the drones scuttle back to their holes and crevices. Compared to the cavern they kept her in, the main cavern was brighter, and a great deal bigger too. Her eyes had long since adjusted to the dark. It certainly wasn't as good as the Changelings' eyes, but she could pick each one out by their silhouette against the glowing fungi, and look them in the eyes by looking for the only glossy part of their body that wasn't covered in rough chitin.
That didn't make the layout of the hive any less confusing. Outside of her cavern, she knew nothing about the hive. The tunnels up and down from the main cavern were like parts of a maze. She only collected her sense of place when Spectra's captain grabbed her by the shoulder.
"Didn't expect you to do that," he sneered at him. "Ponies usually run the moment they can, not save their Princess. But do you think she'd let you go free just for that?"
Lunti brushed his leg away, staring straight into his glistening black eyes. "I'm not going back. I helped Spectra, saved her even. I can keep helping if she lets me."
"Maybe another time," the captain said, reaching for Lunti again.
She stepped back. "I know I'm her favourite. Meal, prisoner, I don't care what I am to her, but I know she keeps me for a reason. You'll have to hurt me before I go back to the cavern!"
"Pantry," he corrected, "it's more of a pantry, compared to the rest of the hive."
Lunti clenched her teeth, not willing to let the hunter-drone intimidate her. The other drones hummed around the hive, carrying out waste and organizing into new patrols, but one by one, the other captains and lieutenants started to watch Lunti talking back.
"I already proved myself. I can do more than sit around in the dark," Lunti said.
"You were definitely a surprise, " the captain retorted with a sly chuckle. "But that's not for me to decide. Princess Spectra expects you back in your cage. I have my orders."
"Why not surprise her again?" Lunti fought harder. The captain's grip was getting fiercer, but she didn't give up. "Tie me up, do whatever you have to do, but I am staying outside!"
She bit him on the neck, cracking through the upper layer of his carapace. The soft flesh underneath was exposed, but already his magic was healing the wound. The captain looked more inconvenienced than he was angry. However, even though she couldn't smell thoughts and emotions, Lunti knew she was wearing his patience.
She fought hard to wear a calm face. "I didn't hear her say anything to you. How do you know what she wants?"
"I am her captain," he said. "I simply know. I don't expect you would understand."
"And that's your problem. That's all you are, another weapon for her to use. But if you're doing all the fighting for her, who's doing the thinking?"
The captain scoffed. "Princess Spectra wouldn't need you for that. She'll be a Chrysalis, more powerful than you could ever know."
Lunti rolled her eyes. The captain sounded more like a dragon from a filly's tale. Power, might, invincibility. Now the circle of drones was growing thicker, all of them watching and nodding along with the captain. Every drone in the cavern trusted Spectra's potential.
"All-powerful and all-knowing are not the same," Lunti replied, remembering something the Queen said. "How long has she lived among ponies? She's a year old. Couldn't have been that long. Me? I've lived among them for twenty years. A lot longer, don't you think?"
"That's what we're for," the captain hissed back. "I, and the other drones, have hunted your kind for as long as your kind as existed. We might even know your kind better than you know yourselves."
Lunti clenched her jaw, readying herself for a strike to come at any moment. But as long as she had their ears, she'd keep talking. "And that's enough to give Spectra advice? What if she's wrong, and you can't tell her otherwise? Don't tell me you actually have the ability to challenge your Queen's orders."
The very thought of that made the hunter-drones recoil. The captain hesitated, and for a moment his words were caught in his throat. And Lunti seized her chance.
"Ha! You can barely think for yourselves," she laughed, forcing her uneasiness back into her belly. She had practised hiding her feelings before. The councilmembers of Riverfork had a talent for reading expressions. To survive as a councilmember's daughter, Lunti had to be confident in her acting ability.
Suddenly, the fear subsided. She acknowledged the danger she was in, surrounded by hunter-drones without Spectra to claim her as a prize. But even the indignity of being a prize was subdued inside her. The only thing she needed now was control.
"Just let me stay out here," she said. "You and I both know escape isn't an option. But I can be her other voice, a second opinion that keeps her from making a mistake."
Slowly, the captain paced around her. Her eyes followed his steps, scanning him and the cavern at the same time. The other drones watched intensely, but there was a look of confusion written all over their faces. The captain closed his eyes and breathed, leaning closer and closer to Lunti.
He opened his eyes and glared at her, partly with hatred and partly with awe. "Where are your emotions? Your aura, it's as stale as a corpse."
A rush of air rushed from her lungs, but Lunti caught herself just in time and held her breath. She was surprised that her acting worked so well it suppressed her aura. She remembered how much Spectra had taunted her over the smell and taste of her emotions. For a Changeling, those senses must have been just as important as sight.
And in the lightless depth of the hive, she believed it. "Maybe Spectra could answer that for you."
"You'd never help her," the captain replied. "Ponies are weak, but you still have a sense of revenge. It's one of the best emotions your kind produces."
"We can also think with reason," Lunti forced herself to think of something else, something that made her angry. She remembered an argument she had with her father as a filly, about him always being at council meetings and never having time for her. It was a young memory, full of raw emotions. And it was just enough to produce a wave of false anger toward the captain's insult.
Ironically, the scent of anger seemed to relax the drones, the captain included. They stopped looking at her like she was an abomination and resumed their usual level of predatory glaring.
"If you're suspicious of me, then you really can't think like your enemies." Lunti raised a brow at him, shooting a mockingly curious look. "Not a good flaw, for a captain."
His wings buzzed, bristling with frustration, but Lunti continued before he could cut her off. "If Spectra becomes Queen, she'll have a lot more ponies to feed on. I wouldn't be special, just another poor soul trapped in her jaws. True, I'd rather be free than special. But, I'll settle for the latter if I have to."
The captain felt the situation falling apart. He gave her too much time, and not enough credit. A pony wasn't supposed to argue with a Changeling, they were supposed to grovel like food. Then again, a pony wasn't supposed to save a Changeling either. He turned to his fellow drones, but they weren't much help. The few lieutenants and captains in the crowd met his eyes with the same look of confusion.
Should he force her to go anyway? That was probably the best course of action, but she'd start biting again, perhaps she'd even hurt herself. Arguing wasn't going anywhere, either. The pony made up her mind. Plus, she was right about one thing. The captain didn't have any reason to imprison her if it wasn't for Spectra's orders. If she were any other prey, he'd simply drain her of magic and leave it at that.
He kept his eyes on the other drones. "Go on!" he suddenly yapped at them, "The Queen didn't order us to wait around. Organize patrols and make sure there aren't any hunter-drones still loyal to Majesta."
He turned back to Lunti. "Fine. You'll get your talk with Princess Spectra. But you can't stay out here. Sooner or later, a young drone's going to get sick with hunger from your scent. Even if you do that thing with your aura again, you'll still smell like a pony. That's enough to make a hunter-drone lose control."
"You have plenty of space," Lunti replied, waving her hoof around all the tunnels in the cave. "Where would you go, if you didn't have any orders?"
"I'm a captain, I always have orders," he answered with a smirk. "But there is a place for drones who serve special duties. Groundskeeper caves."
They walked a long stretch of the tunnel before the Queen said anything. Spectra thought she had explored every part of the hive as a hatchling, but as they descended down to the worker-drone caves, the stone walls began to look more unfamiliar. The Queen, however, walked with full confidence. Nothing but Changelings lived down here. Even glowing fungi and the insects that lived on them found no place to take hold.
Worker-drones waited in their eggs, curled up in their fully grown forms, just waiting to be needed. Hundreds of them lined the walls of the tight cave. Spectra had to fold her wings just to avoid disturbing them. She could smell the dreams they were having, the egg-memories that taught every Changeling the instincts necessary to live.
The two turned the corner and the cave's ceiling shot high above Spectra's head. The central area was much like that of the main cavern, wide and full of tunnels for the pale, eyeless insects that skittered on the ground. At one end sat a black puddle of water that could as easily have been a vast ocean to the bugs, but it was dwarfed by the tree that sprouted from the middle of the cave to the very top.
Out of curiosity, Spectra channelled a little magic into her horn and illuminated the tree. Its bark was as black as the stone beneath it, and the leaves, sickly green, looked as though they were about to fall. Suddenly, the insects turned towards the light, all charging towards her in a single skittering wave.
A quick shove back by her mother's hoof distracted Spectra, cutting off her light. Just as quickly as they started, the bugs stopped and resumed their aimless wandering.
"Try not to use magic here," she warned.
Spectra's eyes and jaw were both wide with awe at the strange scene. "How did this come to be here?" She asked.
"It has always been here. This tree," the Queen gestured to the bugs crawling in and out of its roots, "and its inhabitants, are as old as the mountain itself. They were planted here during an age of shadows and dark magic, a time when only monsters ruled the world."
Magic. Insects. Monsters. Spectra eyed her mother with suspicious interest. What did these bugs have to do with being the Queen? There was no way that Changelings could be related. The critters were as small as beetles and smelled of hardly any magic.
In fact, as she took a deeper breath. The whole cave lacked the smell of magic. If she closed her eyes, she could swear she was in an empty room. There was simply nothing.
"Don't try to figure it out," the Queen chuckled. "I couldn't for the life of me when my mother asked me what I thought about this place."
Flashes of egg-memories suddenly crawled their way into Spectra's mind, triggered by her mother's words. The longer she stood by the tree, the more familiar it became. She had been here before. She had been here a hundred times. Her memories overlapped, threatening to rob her of her sense of self.
Like living in a dream, she felt as if the walls of the cave and the tunnel behind her were transforming into the roots of the tree. She remembered the walking dream from her egg, the very same dream that taught her to move her limbs. The most basic instinct, but one that had to begin somewhere.
She climbed up that tree, hungry, searching for something to eat. The tree had scant little to eat, but there had to be something. The dream blended with another, the instinct of smell, and Spectra followed it. She felt her own body stumble into the Queen, and for an instant, she almost forced herself out of the egg-memory.
But she felt her mother's voice whisper reassurance in her ear. It sounded faint, an echo of an echo, but she listened and continue down the memory. The smell was coming from outside the tree. It was moving. It was another Changeling! The memory dragged Spectra along, scuttling toward the smell of food.
Hunger gnawed at her stomach. But the Changeling in the memory was no Changeling at all. Its body small and round, supported by delicate legs that were thinner than hair. Spectra wanted to shake herself out of the memory. This wasn't some dream from her egg, it was a nightmare!
The thing in the memory, it was the same insect in the cave. What was such a primitive creature doing in her mind? But hunger stabbed her in the stomach, and the memory had full control. She felt her own mouth reach out, taking from the fellow insect in the memory.
Feeding. The instinct to eat came from this memory. A drop of murky liquid passed from the insect's mouth to hers, and it was like tasting life itself. She wanted more, or rather, whoever she was in memory wanted more. Spectra felt her own legs twitching as if she was the one chasing after the savoury liquid. There was more out there, and she wanted to find all of it, all of it until she slammed her head into a wall.
Spectra was ripped from the memory immediately, opening her eyes to see her mother looking over her with a wide smile. The insects around her scurried absent-mindedly, not even aware of her existence. But she was aware of theirs. Too aware. Spectra stood up and faced her mother.
"I've never had an egg-memory that strong before," she said. "Not even when I was in my egg, I think."
The Queen chuckled. "Trust me, you have. It's a powerful memory. Walking, eating, smelling, all vital functions that we take for granted. However, the more primal our instincts, the farther back its origins. Maybe we can be forgiven for forgetting something so old."
Spectra frowned and looked at the tree again, still shaking her head. "How is it possible? These bugs are, well, bugs."
"Give something enough time, and it will change," the Queen told her daughter, "remember enough memories and you'll understand how. But that's for later. I brought you here to teach you what it means to be Queen Chrysalis. Do you understand?"
Spectra looked up into her mother's eyes and read her. There was no trick. Spectra felt safe to honestly answer. "I don't," she said as she shook her head.
"Then listen carefully." The Queen's voice deepened. "The soul of the hive, that is the mantle of Chrysalis. Our kind came from nothing, from this black, lifeless pit where not even magic exists. The hive, Changelings, and us as individuals, are not ruthless and violent for the sake of it. The world gave us nothing. To survive, we must take from it everything."
The Queen reached a hoof out, and one of the black insects crawled onto her. She lifted the minuscule thing into the air with so much tenderness it was as if the insect would be crushed if she even jostled it a little. And then, from the very tip of her horn, she bled a drop of magic for the bug to feed.
The life-giving energy shot into it as quick as air was sucked into lungs. It then jumped from the Queen's hoof, weightless descending to the ground and scurrying under the roots of the tree.
"The ones lucky or brave enough to crawl their way out of this pit drank a cave full of magic," continued the Queen. "The same fungi-eating insects and lizards that live in our hive once nourished these bugs. And with enough time and magic, they'd begin to change."
The Queen smiled and rested a hoof on her daughter's head. She was nearly up to her chin now, taller almost every drone. But she still had growing to do. "Anyone can be Queen, Spectra. Remember that. Even in some pony cities, they place that title on their leaders. The mantle of Chrysalis is from a world before kings and queens. Our kind's history is passed down by magic, hidden within our dreams and instincts."
Spectra nodded meekly. The responsibility was clear enough to her, having had lived through the memory itself. But the weight of it was still tugging on her chest. And for once, a rising dread that she'd never live up to the task invaded the back of her mind.
"You will be ready," her mother assured her. "You are no less capable in magic than I am. The only difference now is time. It will be years until you can be both Queen and Chrysalis, but every princess before you had to take time to learn. Even me."
That was right. Knowing her mother was once like her put Spectra's mind at ease. "So, which will I have first?" she asked.
"Queen of course," her mother scoffed. "I can't manage the hive and prepare you to take the mantle. Hunting and creating new drones will be up to you now. My part in all of this will be to prepare the memories you'll need to learn from our past, and then make sure you learn the right lessons from them."
The last groundskeeper barely let out a scream before it was shredded in Halfwing's maw. The dragon had torn her path to the hive, striking every patrol and nest before the Queen could be alerted. This was her revenge. She'd announce her own return. No one else.
Septarian sat more comfortably on Halfwing's back. Armed with a bundle of sharpened sticks on his back, he watched motionlessly as the Changelings failed to even come within a spear's reach. The hive was in sight now. The last time he was brought south, he never got to see it.
He remembered it like it was a lifetime ago. Marblestop was attacked, but rather than be taken prisoners, Majesta recruited him to try and kill Spectra. How would everything be if he had succeeded, he wondered. Would he be serving Majesta instead? He never would have been free from her, just as he wasn't free now. Changelings had a habit of turning ponies into their tools.
"How are you going to draw her out?" he asked once they approached the mouth of the hive. "Isn't the first cavern really deep down?"
He peered to the side Halfwing's shoulder. The entrance to the hive was a massive cave, larger than anything in Marblestop's mines. Wide enough even for a dragon, it looked like the maw of an upward-facing giant, swallowing the jungle. Trees grew so high their branches stretched beyond the cave as if they were trying to escape the hive below them.
"This is the only way in or out of the hive," Halfwing told him, "just being here makes me a threat. And then she'll come out to face me."
Septarian grasped Halfwing's back tightly as she shook, spreading her wing to cast a wide shadow over the cave. She claimed she was more a dragon than a Changeling now, but he swore she seemed to grow bigger. With a voice like thunder, she boomed an echo into the cave.
"Mother! Your daughter has returned. You took more than just my wing. You took my life. And now I've found a new one, with better treasures than a dirty old hole in the ground. Face me, and let's be done with it!" The cry was deafening to Septarian, but he had heard worse. He recognized when she was angry, and this wasn't one of those times. Her voice carried solemn determination, nothing more. She was simply declaring that her revenge would finally be complete.
No answer came. But a quiet buzzing from the bottom of the cave told Septarian that her challenge had been heard. "Sounds like a lot of Changelings in there," he said. "What's our plan? They won't just run into your fire. They'll use magic, get close enough to get under your scales."
"I hope they do," she said, reaching back a claw to lift Septarian to the ground. "I want to face them all so my mother knows I've become stronger she'll ever be. She'll know she made a mistake, crippling me. And when all their eyes are on me, I doubt they'll even notice you and your little spears."
The cavern was closer to the surface than most of the other caves. That had to be why she had been climbing up a tunnel for what felt like an hour. Spectra's captain roughly shoved her to move faster. It wasn't easy, though. The walls scraped her knees, and many small stalactites threatened to scratch her head if she moved any faster than a trot.
"You could carry me if you're in such a hurry," she winced at another jab from his horn.
To that, he just laughed. "Does this tunnel look like a place I could fly in? If I carried you on hoof, it'd take twice as long."
Lunti huffed and pulled herself up the slope. She had to be careful. One wrong step and her hooves could slide off, and she had no idea how far she'd tumble before the captain would think to grab her.
"This tunnel doesn't seem efficient," Lunti grunted, lowering her body to the ground to squeeze under the ceiling of the tunnel. "I've seen those drones that make caverns. They could widen it, make it easier to climb through."
"They will, when the Queen tells them it's time," the captain said. "Worker-drones are simple, but they aren't cheap. Acid is physical material, it can't just be made from just magic, they need to eat a lot."
They were so close to the surface, her eyes started to ache once the groundskeeper caves came into view. And they were truly caves. It was like a pit had formed in the side of the mountain exposing the hive to a flood of green and blue. Vines, roots, and even fallen tree branches dangled from the mouth of the cave. The even line cut across them were telltale signs that it had been diligently maintained.
But the sight was still tempting. Lunti could not stop her heart from pounding, wondering how long she'd have to wait for the vines to grow to the bottom of the cave. Slowly, her eyes trailed down from the opening, following the cracks to the floor. As she looked on, the years ticked up in her head.
The eyes caught her attention as soon as she stopped gaping at the fresh air above her. Pairs of lidless, black eyes stared down on her from small nests woven out of the roots. She tried counting, but her whole body started to freeze up as every pair started to look the same, and she lost count.
"Here they go," the captain said, bucking Lunti into the centre of the cave. "You have fun. There's only so much of these freaks I can handle."
Lunti whipped around and reached after the captain. "Wait-"
A massive black body landed in between them, knocking her onto her back. Lunti kicked the air to defend herself from the Changeling, but all she felt was a tight grip around her hooves. "Howdy! I haven't seen you around here before!"
Lunti's whole body wobbled as the groundskeeper firmly shook her hoof. One by one, more popped out of their nests to greet her. Not all were in their Changeling form. Some sprouted out from the roots as cats or birds, others glided down from their nests as pegasi.
One of those pegasi nudged Lunti back up to her hooves. "Wow, are you a real pony?" it asked. "My nest's in the middle of a forest, way up north where it never stops snowing. I only get to see ponies when they go out to train their hunting hounds."
"Use your nose," scoffed another Changeling, waltzing into the middle of the crowd as a cat before revealing her true form. She spoke with a soft but fluid tone. "Smells like a pony, doesn't she?"
"Oh knock it off," the massive black Changeling replied. "North ain't an easy nest. Quick your teasing and give the pony a welcome."
Lunti blinked, twisting her head around to check for any traps or an ambushing Changeling. She had only met a groundskeeper outside of the hive. She didn't think they were any different from other hunter-drones.
"You're actually being, well," she hesitated to say the word, "friendly?"
The Changelings all paused and looked at each other. They traded sly and knowing looks until one of them couldn't contain themselves anymore. Once one groundskeeper broke into a laugh, they all did.
"Whatd'ya expect," laughed the northern groundskeeper, "more hunter-drones?"
The black-eyed Changeling patted Lunti on the back. "Bet you haven't had a good run of it lately, but you needn't worry." He peeled back his lips to reveal the rows of cutting teeth along his jaw. "If the Queen doesn't say 'bite,' we don't bite."
That didn't surprise her. The Queen, Spectra's mother, had a completely different aura about her. Lunti only saw her for a short moment, but she had still felt the confidence radiating off of her. Strangely, it made Lunti feel better about her place as a prisoner. She knew, in some little way, why Spectra was the way she was. With a mother like that, it could be impossible to escape her shadow.
"And if you get a new Queen?" Lunti asked. One way or another, however, Spectra had to outgrow that shadow. And Lunti knew she had to be on her good side when it happened.
A twitch in the black-eyed Changeling's smile cracked through his outside joy. It was small, but with real sunlight flooding down from the mouth of the cave, Lunti could see clearer than she had in months. The other groundskeepers hid their reactions well, but not as well. The furthest even dropped their curiosity completely and snarled at her.
"Hm, well," black-eye widened his grin, "the answer's a little hard to explain to a pony. What're you doing here, anyway?"
"Waiting for Princess Spectra to finish speaking with the Queen."
He tilted his head, his glossy, black eyes looking slightly blue under the light of the sky. "Funny thing to do, for prey. You don't have a knife tucked away in that mane of yours, do you?"
"Opposite, in fact," Lunti answered. "I've been treated like an animal for months, but when Spectra's sister dragged me to the surface as bait for their battle, I chose my side. I want your Princess to know what I can do for her."
"Got a lotta gumption, don'tchya?" laughed the northern groundskeeper.
Black-eyes seemed to agree with a slight nod. "Make sense. I'll bet you don't know how long they'll be talking, right?"
Lunti nodded back. "I wasn't given an itinerary."
"In that case," he smiled, "you should save questions about the Queen. The Princess can answer them if you see her."
If. Lunti withheld her curiosity. There was still a lot she needed to know about the hive, and especially the Queen. But the groundskeepers seemed to act only like Changelings when the Queen was involved. If she wanted anything out of them, they had to stay like they were now. With so many different personalities, anything the groundskeepers had in common could be a feature of Changelings in general, maybe even a weakness.
At least, she thought she'd have enough to pull more information out of them. But all of them froze as the cave turned nearly as dark as the hive below. The passing wind hurled clumps of leaves and dirt down the cave. The rattling of hardened scales tickled the air like a wall of chimes.
The body was so massive, even when it landed it blocked out a piece of the sun. And as quickly as the shadow covered them, from the depths of the beast came roaring fire.
Spectra and her mother both felt their hive cry out. The panic and disorder from the drones above them flooded the hive's tunnels with the smells of the drones' auras. Spectra's eyes weren't on the tunnel back to the surface. She couldn't think about the hive at the moment. All that filled her thoughts was the look on her mother's face.
Her drones warned her, and she listened. She expected to finish off Halfwing later when she had the whole hive behind her. But the look on her mother's face, she was not prepared for it. Surprise, shock, and anger, they were all absent.
"What's happening up there?" Spectra quickly asked, probing for her mother's thoughts.
Chrysalis rolled her eyes. "Don't play games. A dragon doesn't enter my hunting ground without me knowing. And it doesn't die without me finding out what in the world could be strong enough to kill it."
Spectra furrowed her brows. "So, you know it's her?"
"I've known longer than you have," Chrysalis said. "It's one of the tricks I'll have to teach you. Managing the network of groundskeepers that keeps the hive informed is part of the Queen's duties."
"Will there be time for that?" Spectra looked down to a little black bug crawling at her hoof, smelling for magic, as she recalled. "I've only spoken to her once. But I think Halfwing still hates you. When we were in Marblestop, and she had me held in a mine, all she wanted to ask about was her wing. She blames it on you and Tenacity the most."
Chrysalis shrugged. "I don't care about a dragon's feelings. That thing cannot be my daughter, let alone a Changeling."
A stomping rung down the tunnel they came. Spectra picked up Zorne's scent, the veteran hunter-drone captain she once commanded. Fear was heavy in his aura, without a doubt he was here to warn them about Halfwing. Spectra jumped, however, when it took just once hiss from her mother to halt the hunter-drone in place. He hadn't even reached them, but his unshakable obedience kept him steadfast and waiting in the middle of the tunnel.
Spectra turned her head away from the smell of Zorne's fear. "I don't understand. I was worried Halfwing had proven how strong she was by being a dragon, how is she not a Changeling anymore?"
Chrysalis snarled, though Spectra could smell that it wasn't directed at her. "You former sister was an idiot. If she hadn't gotten rid of her pack, she would have had a knowledgable captain to warn her. Changelings cannot turn into dragons after consuming their flesh and blood."
Flashbacks of her first months in the hive came back to Spectra. When they were all young, the only way they knew how to drain magic was by eating a living creature. In the process, she learned every done and muscle of every animal she ate. It was just how they learned to change.
"Why makes dragons different?" Spectra asked.
"It's like a curse," her mother answered, walking at the same time to head back up to the rest of the hive. "Dragons have a magic of their own, but it's not like ours. We are like most other creatures. Our magic is loose, the energy that fills every living thing is constantly releasing and absorbing magic. We are only able to drain magic from others because of how ready the magic is to escape its host."
They met Zorne, who was still bowing his head to the ground as they passed by him. Chrysalis made no sound, but Spectra smelled a sour surge in the air as her mother issued a command by magic.
"A dragon's magic is part of their blood," she continued. "Their emotions, especially greed, can affect their bodies and minds. And when a Changeling learns their body and how to transform into it, that magic never leaves. It takes hold in us until we can't control it anymore."
Spectra struggled to keep up with her mother's pace. She wanted to stop and process what she was hearing. Being Chrysalis meant having the memories of all Changeling history.
"So, this has happened before, right? You know how to kill a dragon?"
Chrysalis quickened her pace, her face grim. "No. Once, generations before my time, the hive fought dragons over hunting grounds. A young dragon was taken and studied so that some hunter-drones could infiltrate the dragon congregation. But just like your sister, they eventually became dragons in body and mind, betraying the hive. We lost that war, and the dragons gained their Dragon Lands after that."
Spectra gave the problem some thought. "The hunter-drones, do they know it's Halfwing?"
"No, and it doesn't matter. You will be Queen, and I am the hive's Chrysalis. Hunter-drones are our weapons, they will fight whatever we point them to."
The sound of hunter-drones began to swarm their ears now. Every crevice of the hive that held a hunter-drone had been emptied, all summoned by instinct to defend their home. But Chrysalis's power was absolute. A wave of magic washed over the teeming swarm and the hundreds of drones filling the hive's main cavern stopped in their tracks.
Only a groundskeeper, covered in ichor, kept his pace. He ran from the entrance and fell at Chrysalis's hooves. "It's burned all the nests surrounding the hive, Your Highness. I barely managed to escape."
"You got through the main entrance?" Spectra asked. Chrysalis gave her daughter a sideways look, but let her continue. "Why hasn't it filled the entrance with flames? The dragon should know that's the widest route to march out drones."
The groundskeeper shook his head. "I can't explain why, but it's just circling the hive. There's a ring of fire around the mountain, but it doesn't get too close."
Spectra turned to mother. "She wants us to face her, then. She wants to prove to us that she's become stronger."
"She wants me to face her," Chrysalis corrected. "You could be hunting anywhere. But she knows there's nowhere else I'd be. Her focus isn't on you."
"Does that matter? I'm here now to defend my home."
"No, the time for testing strength is over. You and I must do as the hive requires and direct the hunter-drones."
Chrysalis straightened her posture and raised her head as if the act of leadership itself empowered her. She called out to the hive, letting the very caverns and tunnels carry the command. Shrill screeches and sharp clicks shot through the hive, and one by one, hunter-drones organized themselves into their packs. Spectra recognized a smell she didn't expect to find the hive. Groundskeepers, even their more independent minds could not stand by and watch the hive burn.
A line of them flowed from a small tunnel in the cavern walls. The smells of their auras were clear even in a cavern packed with hunter-drones. Each one of them had a distinct flavour in their magic. Some were more joyful. Some were ready to fight. One smelled uncannily similar to a pony.
In fact, the pony's smell was too familiar. Spectra blinked and checked her nose. The cavern may have been dimly lit by the soft glow of the fungi on the walls, but her eyes were as sharp as her nose in the dark. And she was certain that, in the distance, Lunti was clinging on the back of a groundskeeper.
"Don't just dawdle around!" Chrysalis snapped Spectra's attention back to the hive. "You can't smell it on yourself, but the memory you saw has changed you. The hive will recognize you as a true Queen. Organize the pack captains and prepare them to strike the dragon from the sky. I will organize the ground distraction."
Spectra stepped back, examining how many drones would die by fire before they could get in the air. "She's probably waiting at the entrance. How will we get into the air without her noticing?"
Chrysalis pointed a hoof at the tunnel above, the one Spectra had seen Lunti come from. "The groundskeepers have their own caverns since the hunter-drones can't stand them. They reach up to the surface. Use it as an alternate exit."
Spectra nodded and bounded as fast as her legs would carry. Each step echoed heavier in the hive. Hunter-drones had paid attention to her before, but now it seemed as if they were scared to even look her way. Despite the crowded chaos filling the hive, Spectra realized there wasn't a single drone in her way no matter where she moved. The sea of deafening wings parted before her as she charged for Lunti and the groundskeepers.
"Howdy!" one of the groundskeepers greeted Spectra.
"Cut the act," she hissed, snatching Lunti out of his grasp. "What are you doing out of your cavern? I don't have time for you to play around. Go back, before-"
"-before what, Spectra?" Lunti shoved herself away from Spectra. "You're acting like I didn't just save your life. I'm here because I made sense to your drone."
"The captain?" Spectra tilted her head in disbelief. "He knows where you belong."
"And he knows what you want. I made him realize that letting me stay out in the hive was better for you. Face it, you need some pony who can give you a second opinion."
"There is a dragon waiting above the hive, burning down the jungle around us," Spectra hissed, annoyed. "Get to safety before the dragon eats you, or else I'll do it for her."
"Fine, but when you see your captain, tell him to exit the hive on the ground. Maybe he can be a snake or a rat. He gave me a chance, I'd like to repay him."
Spectra leaned back, sneering and taking a full look at Lunti. She smelled more confident than she remembered. Even with the hive packed with hunter-drones, her smell was still sharp in the air. At the very least, there was no dishonestly in her aura. Whatever she was talking about, Lunti seemed to mean it.
"Why should that help him? You're a pony who doesn't understand anything about how Changelings fight."
"I think I understand a little," she replied, "but this is about the dragon. I saw the smoke from their caverns, but it looked far away. Wherever the ring of fire is that you mentioned, it's not near the groundskeeper entrance. If you take the to air immediately, the dragon will see you. Sneaking on the ground would be better."
"Groundskeeper, is this right?" Spectra asked the one who greeted her.
He nodded. "Didn't measure it, but I reckon it's a few hundred metres from the groundskeeper caverns."
"Then why are you all here? You needed only one messenger, the rest of you could be preparing to attack right now!"
"The hive is in immediate danger. The Queen told us that we'd have to report to her in these situations."
"I am Queen now," Spectra puffed up her chest and lifted her head. "My mother holds the mantle of Chrysalis still, but she made me Queen."
"Reckon that's true, by the scent on ya," he nodded while gesturing to all the other groundskeepers, "but we only have one Queen. It's her orders we follow, not yours."
Lunti stepped between Spectra and the groundskeeper, boldly pressing so close to her that they could feel each other's breath in the darkness. The smell of fear lingered on her, faintly. What dominated her aura and the smell of the magic inside her body was determination. In a way, it was a pure scent, one that was honest by the very nature of its simplicity. It was her simple determination to live.
"There's a dragon above us right now," she muttered, "so you can stop worrying about what I might do because I don't want to die living like those ponies in your pen, stored up and eaten like grain. Even these groundskeepers can be mindless drones when it comes to their orders, so take my words as advice from the only other thinking creature who isn't your mother. You can't overpower a dragon with a swarm, you have to get close and find its weaknesses."
"You want a better life by helping me, is that it?" Spectra asked, filling her lungs with Lunti's scent. "You might get your freedom after all. Dragon scales don't have any weaknesses."
She stifled an internal scream. It was a lie, of course. Halfwing had somehow managed to kill the dragon herself, it was the only way she could have learned how to become one. Spectra cursed her sister. It was too late to leave and find out how she did it. All she could do was fight the way she knew.
But Lunti simply smiled. It would have been meaningly to a pony in the dim glow of the cavern fungi, but Spectra read her knowing lips like words on a book. For once, Spectra felt like she was the one being looked down on by Lunti.
"How long have you lived among my kind? If you won't listen to anything else I have to say, at least take this advice: read some of our books. Ponies have been fighting dragons since our first cities were established. Our gems and our lives both feed them well. I've read stories of heroes sneaking into their caves or tricking dragons to fight on the ground, and in most of those stories, they always go for the eyes."
"Every single one of them hears you now, my Queen."
Even with the fires burning above them, Spectra's carapace tingled with excitement at her title. She had ordered her captain to collect every drone who wasn't directly following her mother, and asked that they gather in the groundskeeper caverns. Lieutenants and other captains lined up in rows before her. And the hunter-drones behind them, Spectra couldn't even begin to count them. Among them, only a few drones were her own children. Mutant Changelings, they stood easily a head taller than the rest.
At long last, the army she was promised since birth was hers. The only thing Spectra never imagined she'd have was a pony standing by her side. Lunti stared, but she stood firm. The sheer number of drones wasn't enough to impress her, it seemed.
Of course not, Spectra thought to herself, she doesn't know how much I've had to fight to earn this.
"Chrysalis has ordered her drones to attack from the hive's entrance," her captain informed, bring her attention back to her Changelings, "she awoke most of the worker-drone reserves to form the first wave."
"Workers? What are they going to do against a dragon?"
Her captain shrugged. "Buy time would be my guess. Chrysalis still has the majority of the hive's drones. It looks like she'll be rushing the dragon with numbers."
"That won't work," Lunti mumbled, though Spectra buzzed her wings to silence her prey.
"Fire is the biggest concern we have right now," Spectra told her drones. "We don't stand a chance if we fight at the dragon's range. We need to close in on our prey and make it our fight."
Her words echoed in the cavern. One by one, she could feel the energy from her drones building up from the front to the back, all of them preparing their magic to change into whatever form they needed. But her captain leaned in close behind her, talking into her ear.
"You are the Queen now, Your Highness," he said, "and orders by voice will make coordination too difficult."
Though she wasn't immediately next to them, Lunti could still read the Changeling's lips and hear most of his words. She glanced at Spectra and cracked a grin. "What is she supposed to do, wave around some flag signals?"
The captain snarled but stood obediently in place. Standing in the middle of all the tension, the eagerness from her drones to fight, the animosity between the captain and Lunti, but most of all she felt the anxiety in the back of all her drones' minds about following a new Changeling. It was by instinct that she could read their feelings.
Is that how she does it? She thought about her mother's mental signals. Spectra realized instantly that when it came to sensing emotions, hunter-drones were no different from her. They could read her aura, and know exactly what she felt, perhaps even what she was thinking. She allowed herself to indulge in her imagination, letting the magic that radiated off of her completely soak up her scent. The sensation she would feel as her army snuck up on the dragon, striking at its softer underbelly while she charged for its open eyes, Spectra let those thoughts fill her head and cook up a boiling pot of emotions.
Back to front, left to right, the scent of magic permeated the air and walls of the cavern. Lunti stumbled back, and even Spectra flinched from surprise as the drones locked themselves into marching order. They stood a hoof's width from each other, shoulder to shoulder, without a single noise or murmur. Even her captain, she noticed, had changed. Their carapace, though already black, seemed to darken. Spots of grey where injuries had healed, the equivalent of scars on their exoskeletons, vanished.
Ordered to stay silent, the drones did not make noise, but their wings shot up altogether, bristling and twitching, a reflexive reaction to their Queen's desires. Words no longer mattered it seemed.
"In that case," Spectra whispered to herself, feeling her own body shaking with anticipation, already imagining the smell of her sister's blood, "there's nothing left to do but to kill."
The worker-drones were a joke. Their bodies made a pile outside the hive entrance. Under the heat of dragon fire, their legs and heads shrunk to nubs as the juicy insides dried away. Changelings were, at the end of the day, insects. Magic or none, they burned like any other pest. Halfwing understood this now. Standing above them, she understood what it meant to be a desperate creature suckling the blood from some unwitting cattle.
Queen. The title itself wore lies like a crown. A throne of lies atop a kingdom of bodies. Her sole wing cast a shadow over that kingdom. A dragon could be a king. A dragon could be a queen.
She barely noticed as the hunter-drones flooded from the hive, hiding behind shields of dead workers. The burnt layers of chitin had become so thick the bodies of the dead insulated the other drones from her fire. They carried the stink of the dead with them, hoping to get closer and bite under her scales. Halfwing raged, swinging her tail at the drones and sweeping them aside.
"Mother!" she cried out, though her throat boomed like thunder confined in a tunnel. "The hive will die before you do unless you find the courage to face me. Look at me! Look! Are you proud? Didn't you want this, mother? I'm just paying you back for the lesson you taught me. The lesson given to me only minutes after I was born!"
Halfwing closed her eyes on instinct before she actually saw what happened. An arc of magic, burning bright green, plastered her face with painful sparks and dazzling light. From her sides, more Changelings attacked, turning to bears and manticores and massive horned beasts that Halfwing had never seen before. None of their weapons could pierce her natural armour, but they nevertheless harassed the dragon without end.
Halfwing wound up her tail again, but like stones doused in burning tar, bolts of Changeling magic lobbed themselves from the hive's entrance and struck Halfwing in the head. The shots were so intense they blew away the smoke from the dead worker-drones.
Standing at the mouth of the cave, flanked by two veteran hunter-drone captains, Halfwing saw the Queen. Over a head taller than the rest of the drones, she still walked like a giant, even in the face of a dragon. Halfwing took no time to lash out, striking at Queen Chrysalis with her tail. A barrier of light snapped at her tail, repelling the blow with impossible stability. Without a word, the two captains fired their volleys at Halfwing again.
Even if they were lower and aimed at her softer belly, her skin was too thick to be hurt by their magic. Halfwing rose her head, taking the shots directly in her chest, before sending more fire down onto her mother. When the smoke settled, the ground had turned to ash, save for a small circle where a barrier had been.
"This wouldn't be the first time I've fought a dragon," her mother taunted her, casually kicking away some soot. "You'd understand that, if you were fit to be Queen."
Halfwing's lips curled apart, exposing her fangs, each longer than a Changeling's body. "Queen? I am a dragon! Your kingdom is nothing compared to mine!"
"My kingdom?" her mother laughed. "I can't understand your feelings, but if you've come to prove your right to rule, you're a little late I'm afraid. Your sins are, frankly, unforgivable to the hive."
"You've taken much from me," Halfwing snarled, lowering her head to meet her mother's eyes, "but forgiveness is not something I'll allow you to give back. I've outgrown you and the hive. Quite literally."
Her mother flipped her mossy mane in disregard as if flaunting that she was still special. It had been a long time, but Halfwing still remembered how the hive was divided by birth. The Queen was the only Changeling with any kind of mane. The scraggly fibres of chitin weren't as glossy as a pony's hair, but they were as much a symbol of her power as her height and her magic. Just seeing the Queen for the first time since she left invaded Halfwing's mind with endless thoughts.
She wanted to pluck her mother's legs, clip her wings and snap her horn. She wanted her mother to tear her vocal cords screaming for help until she offered up the crown to the hive. Halfwing raised her claw over her mother's head, barely blinking as the two captains shot as her face. Bears and manticores snapped at her legs, but she kept them all away with simple sweeps of her tail.
Halfwing brought her claw down on her mother. Torture would take time, and in the end, she didn't care about the hive anymore. She just wanted to be done with her mother. But, of course, the Queen's horn sparked with magic and projected a barrier of green light right above her head, catching Halfwing's massive claw.
"If you could fly, this would be a very different fight," she said.
"I don't care. Drag this out and I'll leave you begging to give me the crown. I'll break you down but leave you alive, and I'll come back just to tell you how I killed each of my sisters. First Majesta and Spectra, then I'll find Tenacity and pluck her wings. Wouldn't that be funny, choosing which crippled daughter you like better?"
"As if I could call you my daughter after what you have done," her mother hissed harshly. "Don't try and fool me. I know what it takes to be a dragon. That magic in your flesh, it doesn't listen to you. You've lost control of yourself."
The crackling of the barrier above her mother grew louder as more magic was needed to fight off Halfwing's tensing muscles. It was a minor tell, but one that told Halfwing all she needed to know. She pressed harder.
"The funnier joke is the lie you're still telling yourself," her mother smirked. "Or, maybe I was right to let Tenacity cripple you if you haven't realized it by now."
"What are you saying?"
"You act as if you know me just because I'm your mother, but have you considered why I'm here? A Queen would never expose herself unless she wasn't the Queen anymore."
"Liar!" Halfwing yelled, her voice powerful enough to shake even the trees. "You wouldn't give Majesta the crown until Spectra and Tenacity were dead."
"Oh, but they are. Majesta and Tenacity at least. I would very much hope the new Queen I've given to the hive isn't dead." Her mother's knowing smile sunk like spears into Halfwing's eyes.
"Spectra killed them?" A flutter of hesitation was all the hunter-drones needed for their cue. They clawed and dragged at Halfwing's scales, tearing her down. Her powerful limbs tore off many of them, but one by one the drones found their grip on her body. No individual could slow her down, but dozens of drones in the forms of bears and massive jungle cats took their toll. Her tail slowed, her balance shifted, and Halfwing could not focus on crushing her mother's barrier.
But she had one weapon none of them could contend with. Halfwing snapped open her jaws, blazing fire boiling up to her lips. And waves of the flame washed down onto the drones. Dozens more died, unable to shield themselves while in their massive animal forms. The experienced drones moved swiftly, sheltering behind Halfwing's own limbs, but as she lowered her head to chase them down, even they were swept up by the fire.
Halfwing knew she could have easily taken them all, leaving nothing for her mother to fight with. But a sudden snap struck her face, and she found herself biting her own tongue. Out of nowhere, hunter-drones swarmed around the back of her head, linking hooves to form a chain of their own bodies around her jaw. Halfwing whipped her head around, searching from where they had come from.
The sky? She looked and found no birds. So then, the ground? A flash of green in the corner of her vision tipped her off, but the drone was so close there was no time to react. Halfwing reeled back, tripping over the piles of dead Changelings she had created. For a creature her size, the fall was exceptionally damaging. Her long neck snapped like a whip against the trunks of towering jungle trees, and a stabbing pain shot up her back as she landed on her own tail.
Her mouth burned, but there were too many drones to open her jaw. "Spectra!" Halfwing shouted through her teeth. "Is this you? Show yourself! Or are you a coward like our mother?" From the corner of her eye, one of the Changelings linked around her jaw stood up, walking gingerly over Halfwing's head.
"You want to see me? Alright." Spectra smirked, looking down into Halfwing's giant pupil, which was like a window as big as a pony's head. "You should have learned by now, sister, to be careful what you wish for." Spectra raised her hoof high, and before Halfwing could scream in protest, stomped it clean through to the back of the socket. The head-splitting howl flung Spectra back, and her spasms of pain began to shake off the hunter-drones.
"Don't let her go!" commanded Spectra, sending a wave of emotion to her drones. Despite Halfwing's struggling, they clung on. Changelings were crushed and impaled on tree branches with every violent twist of Halfwing's head, but they did not relent.
"Don't savour her pain yet," Chrysalis quickly warned her daughter. "The drones won't be able to fight any longer. We must finish this fight, now."
Spectra covered her nose. "Sooner the better. The dragon's stench is everywhere, and the fires aren't making it smell any better." She ignited her horn with a blaze of green magic. "Her skull will be thick, though. I might need help blasting through-" Spectra turned to her mother, suggesting they kill of Halfwing together. Instead, she found a stone-tipped spear jutting out of her mother's chest.
"What is the meaning of this?" Chrysalis choked. Pain shot out from her mind like a knife. Even for Spectra, her mother's magic carved a hole in her thoughts, and it made it nearly impossible to focus. The other drones were not so fortunate, however. Their weaker minds could not withstand it. Only Spectra's strongest drones, and her mutant children, endured and clung onto Halfwing. The rest clutched their heads and screeched, completely wracked by pain.
Spectra tried to smell the air, but under all the fire and smoke, it was useless. Her eyes followed the length of the spear back to the entrance of the hive. How could anything get behind them? She charged an arc of magic to the tip of her horn. Before she could clear the bushes, a second spear flew from behind a nearby tree.
The thrower had moved, and Spectra didn't even smell it. She scolded herself. Relying on her sense had made her complacent. Her instinct now was to bring up a barrier, but her attack had already been charged. She loosed the bolt, aiming to blast the spear from the air, but both shots missed and flew by each other.
Spectra felt the ground hit her back as the spear pushed through her shoulder. As her magic blew apart the tree, a pony rolled away from the blast. A stallion. Spectra was surprised that she recognized him, but not surprised he was here. Septarian was stupidly loyal to Halfwing.
She felt her mother's temper flare hotter than Halfwing's fire. "A pony, here?" Chrysalis grabbed Spectra and shoved her toward him. "Hurry up and kill them. Our plan has run its course, this needs to end!"
But with fewer drones laced around her head, Halfwing growled and poured out streams of fire. Spectra put a barrier in front of her mother, sensing that she was already drained of most of her magic. Holding off Halfwing must've been harder than it seemed.
A third spear then flew toward Spectra. She extended her magic out to catch it, bouncing the weapon back at Septarian. But with a thinner shield, Halfwing was free to crush it. The feedback from her tail swinging vibrated through Spectra's body. The weight of the tail alone was greater than a house. It forced her to concentrate her magic again.
Without hesitation, Septarian hoisted the spear in one hoof and made a heavy three-legged charge for Spectra. She cursed the stallion's strength. Marblestop's tradition of debt slavery may have been oppressive, but the labour gave him a hard body for sure.
Spectra kicked her legs at him, warding off the spear point. Dealing with a pony was trivial if she had her magic, but one break in concentration would leave her exposed to Halfwing. Her mother hobbled back, retreating. Spectra followed her lead, trying to make space. But Septarian's spear shot in and out, slowly grazing more and more against Spectra's chitin.
Spectra eventually overreached, lashing out in frustration. Her balance was thrown off, giving Septarian a straight path to her head. Time seemed to slow at that moment as she panicked over a dozen decisions she could make. Run and scramble? Perhaps drop and duck under him. No. She stared down into the point of the spear.
The only answer she could find came from her body's instinct. Same as the hunger of the black insects at the bottom of the hive, a thirst for self-preservation took hold. Spectra reached out with a sliver of her magic pulled her own mother into the path of the spear.
Pain inhibited the drones. Death incapacitated them. All at once, every surviving drone around the hive shrieked as one. Age, strength experience did not matter. Even groundskeepers and mutants were not safe. Injured and standing hunter-drones pulled out of their animal forms and collapsed to the ground, grabbing their faces in a useless attempt to drive out Chrysalis's dying breath.
Septarian pulled his spear out and backed away. The shock in his face was equal to Spectra's. She still couldn't smell clearly, but the relief in his eyes said volumes. His violence came from fear. He didn't even expect to survive, let alone win.
She looked around at the burning field. While the drones were helplessly crippled, her mother's death came like a weight being lifted. She never noticed it before because it had always been there, and now was the first time she felt completely free. Chrysalis's body crumped at her hooves, a deep hole driving clean through the head.
But the strongest feelings were Halfwing's. Spectra couldn't smell her feelings clearly, but Halfwing's aura was so oppressive and apparent that it was impossible to ignore. Raw, unfiltered elation hung in the air like a thick fog, wrapping and entrapping everything it passed.
"Is that it?" Septarian shouted to Halfwing. "Are done here?" He pointed to Spectra with his spear. "Or do we have to kill her to?"
Halfwing didn't respond. She only walked silently up the body of her mother, looking down on such a tiny thing compared to her new dragon form. Without warning, she yelled, spewing fire over the corpse in a sharp stream.
"I hate you!" she roared. "You ruined my life. You took everything from me. Me! Your own daughter! You should have given me the world but you stole it from me, you useless bitch! Aargh!" Halfwing thrashed at the ashes when the body was gone. Tears the size of melons welled up and rolled down her remaining eye, sizzling and evaporating instantly over her dragon fire.
She only stopped when the crunching of ash under Spectra's hoof steps drew nearer. Halfwing's ragged breath sharpened as she neared, ready for another fight, but Spectra didn't put up her guard.
"You have what you wanted," she said frankly. "Please, take your pet and leave."
"You still a lot to pay-" Halfwing started.
"Tearing ourselves apart was mother's vision," Spectra cut her off. "Do you want to carry on her wishes? Or, I can heal your eye, you can walk away, and we can both finally begin our lives free of that twisted mare."
"Heal my eye?" Halfwing snarled. "You can't fool me with that. If my eye can be healed why not my wing? Nothing is finished except for the lesson our mother needed to learn!"
"You never had a wing," Spectra answered, "that's why I can't heal it back. Your own body has forgotten what it's like to be whole. But, if you stayed with the hive like you were meant to, you would have learned that we can speed up a body's natural healing. Our own, or the bodies of others."
"And from who did you learn this? My drones never had such skills."
Spectra nodded, unsurprised. "Too young. It's not an easy skill, I could only learn it from one of the best, Zorne. The veteran who probably numbers among the dead now, all because of our mother."
"Why would I trust you?"
This time Spectra snarled back at her sister. "Because we don't have to care anymore. Don't you get it? You were free ever since Majesta and I thought we buried you in the mountains at Marblestop. You could have done anything, become anyone, but here you are, dragged back by your own hatred. Now I don't want to fight you anymore. I don't even have to care."
Halfwing scrutinized her with her eye, looking for any sign of doubt or lies. But there was none. "Heal my eye, then," she laid her head on the ground. "Let's see if your offer holds up. If it doesn't, Septarian will kill you, and then I won't have to care anyways."
"I will?" He looked at her worryingly. "Uh, of course. What's one more... right?"
Spectra took a look at the eye. Damaged, sure, but most of the flesh was still intact. Healing was a delicate skill, and difficult for Changelings. It was the exact opposite of what their bodies wanted to do. To heal, she needed to channel magic into the wound and speed up its recovery.
She tapped into her best memories. Her first hatched drones, killing Tenacity and Majesta, even pride in finally Lunti's spirit finally giving in and admitting defeat. Spectra imagined rebuilding the hive with her prey at her side. Drinking the web of emotions within her, the feelings of a pony who had hope for a better life but accepted her fate as the prey of Changelings, it sounded utterly delicious in Spectra's head.
"Light?" Halfwing gasped, her massive jaw cracking open in shock. "You weren't lying. I can see light again. I can- Septarian, is that you?"
The stallion's own eyes bulged in shock. He didn't believe it either. The whole in Halfwing's eye was sealing itself, rebuilding just from the energy of Spectra's magic. Through the shrinking hole, he could even see the giant muscles and fibres reconnecting themselves.
"Yeah, I'm here," he mumbled.
In just minutes the only evidence of the wound was the bloodstains around Halfwing's eye. She could blink and her massive pupils could see just fine.
"Now will you leave?" Spectra asked.
Halfwing took a deep breath, looking around the burned field. The ring of fire she had set around her birthplace was still burning, slowly eating its way through the rest of the jungle. Eventually, the fires would hit a river or be put out by flames, and in a few years, all the fighting would be completely overgrown.
"There's no place for my memory here, is there?" she finally asked after taking in the sight.
Spectra shook her head. "Not for you, no. You are a dragon, but I must now be Queen and Chrysalis. Trust me when I say you have more freedom in your life now than me."
Halfwing nodded. "I can't promise I won't be back. I think... I think I still hate you, Queen Spectra. But you're right. I'm free now. Maybe I'll taste some of that freedom before I collect the rest of my revenge." She extended her wing down to the ground like a ramp. "Come on Septarian. It's a long way, and I still can't fly."
"Gladly," he climbed up without even a second look at Spectra. With her eye repaired, Halfwing barely looked like she was in a fight. Together, pony riding dragon, they took their journey away from the hive.
Spectra dug through the bodies of the fallen, sorting the dead from the drones who were just unconscious from her mother's death. It was almost frightening how much reliant the hive was on the Queen. Now there was no failsafe. If she died, there was no chance for the future of Changelings.
Hours passed by until the sun started to set. Smoke from the fires turned the sky blazing orange, and Spectra wondered just how far it would go. She wondered if any of the hunter-drones would wake up before the fire put itself out. Tired and drained, she piled the last of the dead Changelings into the heap. She was glad worker-drone husks had been burned paper-thin. The pile of dead hunter-drones towered twice her mother's height.
Spectra spread her wings and fluttered up the hive's mountain. Her home had been the underground caves of the mountain, but she realized she had never actually climbed to the top. Slowly, she passed by the trees and bushes that seemed untouched by the fires below. Halfwing had taken care not to let the fire burn the mountain. Spectra guessed that's where Septarian must have come from, hiding his body in the bushes while his scent was masked by smoke and fire.
She passed the mouth of the groundskeeper caverns. The open caves seemed innocent from the outside, even though Spectra knew just how deep the tunnels below it ran. She wondered how long it would take for her to fill up the cavern again with her own groundskeepers.
By the time she reached the summit, the sun was half under the horizon, and Spectra could see just how far the fire was spreading. There was a river not too far from the hive. By tomorrow she expected the fire would reach it, and eventually put itself out. But even from the mountain, there was no way to see what waited beyond the jungle.
Spectra wondered where Halfwing had decided to go to now. Would she stay within their hunting grounds? If so, avoiding her wouldn't be too hard. She'd only need to listen to pony rumours about a one-winged dragon. Riverfork would be a good place. Not many secrets moved between pony cities without passing through Riverfork.
Hopefully, her drones in Riverfork were unaffected by the death of her mother. If her drone replacement had passed out and lost control of her form, Spectra suspected she would never be able to return as Marina Fisher. A pony replaced by a Changeling raised a lot of questions.
Behind her, the buzzing of tiny wings became faintly audible. They were worker-drone wings, but the ones of a newborn. This one was a runt, at that. Did it hatch in response to the death of the other drones? Or perhaps the remaining workers already knew that they had to increase their numbers to repair the damage the hive had suffered.
No, it was something else. Spectra's nose was still filled with soot and ash, but up in the mountain's fresh air, she could smell the aura of a pony. It was Lunti's scent.
"What in the world is she doing?" Spectra turned away from the sunset and followed the smell.
She found her on the back of a worker-drone flying up the mountain. The poor thing's wings were flapping erratically from exhaustion, but it fulfilled its goal once Spectra was in sight.
Lunti hopped off and hurried up to meet her. "What are you doing up here?"
Spectra tilted her head. "I should ask you that. How did you get one of the worker-drones to carry you out?"
"Oh, that?" Lunti looked at the panting worker-drone. "I told it left an order to take me to you if you weren't back by sunset. You won't believe how quickly it agreed."
"A good reason why we never send them on hunts," Spectra noted, "but it still doesn't explain you being here. The hive is nearly empty and weakened. Even you can outwit and escape worker-drones. Why come to me instead of fleeing?"
"If I run a dozen things can still eat me alive in the wild. That is if you don't track me down and eat me first." Lunti pointed to the ring of fire around the mountain. "I told you I don't want to just be a piece of food. You can accept my help and explain how we're going to fix this, or you can do it all on your own."
"Help? Ha!" Spectra laughed right in Lunti's face. "My mother thought we could overwhelm a dragon with brute force. Every hunter-drone involved is either dead or unconscious. Now I need the surviving drones to train new hatchlings and hunt down enough magic for me to grow the next generation of eggs. If you ran away you'd probably make it to the wetlands before I had time to focus on you."
"But not any further," Lunti lowered her head. "You don't have to try and put hope in my heart. I know you can sense how much I want to escape you. The least you can do is spare me the cruelty of tempting me."
"You're useless," Spectra scoffed. "Mope around me for all I care. I have a kingdom to rebuild."
Lunti clenched her jaw. "Or maybe I can talk to those ponies you have locked up in your hive. The ones who've lived their whole life."
"You mean the Pen?" Spectra looked confused. "I need them to feed my drones. What could you do with them?"
"Train them to act like normal ponies," Lunti suggested. "The guards standing around in the hive passed out just like the Changelings out here. I explored the hive a bit and found the ponies. They're completely devoted to Changelings. I think they might even worship your mother."
Spectra chortled. "Yes, I'm sure she enjoyed that the most about them."
"If I teach them to act like normal ponies, they'll be the perfect spies for you. Better than any Changeling, because they'll be the real thing. That way you can keep Changelings at the hive to do training or whatever."
Spectra thought about it. True, the ponies who were kept in the Pen were obsessive. She recalled how they celebrated when her mother fed on them, even when it killed one of their own. From her own experience with ponies and their faith, it seemed like they'd go to great lengths just for what they believed in.
Still, there was the risk that a pony could be changed. She'd be releasing a double-agent who knew everything about the hive. Total supervision would be necessary. Still, that meant only one drone had to be sent to keep an eye on a few ponies.
"One," Spectra told Lunti, "it's a good plan, but I want you to start with one pony. I won't go any further until they prove their usefulness."
"That'll take more time to get big results," Lunti said. "One pony can only lure so many."
"It is what you will get," Spectra stepped closer.
Lunti looked up at Spectra's eyes. "Fine," she said. "Getting used to being Queen already, huh? You even look the part."
Spectra barred her fangs, unsure if Lunti was trying to mock her. "What are you talking about?"
"I didn't notice before because the hive is so dark, but when you abducted me from Riverfork, we were the same height. Now I have to look up just to see your eyes."
Spectra wanted to taste Lunti again. She couldn't smell her very well, but that just made her hungrier. Her stomach growled as he imagined drawing the magic out of her breath. She wanted to hold her prey closer, her prey who was offering herself up so easily. A free meal.
"Uh, Spectra?" Lunti tried leaning away. But she was quickly dragged into a quiet embrace.
Without a word, the worker-drone seemed to understand a message from Spectra. It stood up and flew down the mountain even faster than when it came.
Spectra wondered if Lunti would taste smoky like the air. Smell and taste sometimes acted like the same sense. Whatever she was feeling, Spectra imagined it would all taste the same.
Lunti broke off her eye contact. "M-maybe you should save me for later. I can't train a pony if I'm too tired."
"I am tired," Spectra pushed Lunti to the ground, "and you are my sustenance. I agree you can help me rebuild my hive, but that includes your delicious magic." She leaned down, pressing on Lunti with all her weight. Slowly, her tongue ran down from her ear to her chin, sampling the flavour of her aura.
"Just don't be too-" Lunti's protest was shut down by Spectra's invasion into her mouth. This time, her feeding was feral, just like before. Lunti felt Spectra's hunger. She lost her strength a lot faster than just being crushed. The magic flowing out of her took her breath away, and Spectra's forceful kiss made it impossible to draw new air. She flailed and fought, but knew it was impossible to escape the feast.
Spectra broke off the siphon and picked Lunti up, bringing her to look off the side of the mountain at the sunset. Lunti wanted to ask what was happening, but once they sat down, Spectra was on her again. Lunti held her breath for as long as she could until she realized her magic was being taken much slower this time.
Moving out of Spectra's clutches was impossible, but the Queen's tongue moved a lot more gently across Lunti's neck. Her fangs nipped and bit her skin until it broke and a drop of warm, wet blood trickled down her neck. Spectra lapped it up, savouring the adrenaline that was rushing through Lunti's body.
"You chose this," Spectra whispered, her lips and tongue lightly brushing on Lunti's ears. Then, she pulled them even closer together, whispering straight into her lips. "You will rebuild the hive with me. I will have you by my side and you will never be treated like a prisoner again. Because from now on, sweet little pet, you are mine. You have all the honours of being mine."
She traced a line around Lunti's neck, encircling it like a noose. "And as soon as I can spare one, I'll have a drone go shopping for a good necklace for you. Oh, and a leash, of course."
Lunti's eyes widened. "Wait, you said I wouldn't be a prisoner! That doesn't sound-"
"Shh-shh-shh," Spectra calmed her, biting Lunti's lip to stop her scared whining. "It'll only be for my use when I want to take you out to the cities for a walk."
Spectra planted her mouth over Lunti's and drank deeply from her life force. Her prey's fears and regrets and hope swirled like a storm of flavour. Freedom was good, and she hoped Halfwing used that freedom to never return. Because, with a stomach stuffed with magic, Spectra realized how much she loved being a Changeling.
"I wonder how you will taste a few months from now," Spectra said to Lunti, "when you realize you've helped me bring a new age to pony lands. Every corner where your kind lives, my kind will hunt." Lunti looked with horror into Spectra's hungry, desirous glare.
"I will use every piece of you, sweet one," Spectra laughed, "and be the Queen who led the Changeling hive to a revitalized age of hunting."
