> Gloaming
>  by Rambling Writer
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1 - Welcome to Delta
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Delta was the kind of quiet, content little town where nothing really happened and that suited everypony just fine. It ran mostly on lumber, with a little mining on the side, making it a very blue-collar sort of place. It rained a lot, but that couldn’t be helped; as the winds came down from the North Luna Ocean, they carried a lot of water in them, and the Weather Department had to dump it all somewhere. It was voluntary on Delta’s part, since a big, steady supply of water helped the trees grow quickly. It wasn’t growing explosively, but it was dug-in and thriving; it’d take a lot to dislodge these lumberers.

So when the murders began, I was called in.





It was drizzling rather than pouring, so I could get a better look outside as our carriage rolled down the road. Not that there was much to look at; the forest hadn’t changed for… two hours? Three? Something like that. Still, it was nice to be able to see out, and at least the rain wasn’t pounding the world’s most off-beat drumline on the roof. I felt bad for our driver, but both times I’d asked how she was feeling, she’d just laughed and said she’d pulled carriages in much worse weather than this.

One last try. I rolled down the window and leaned into the drizzle. “Hey!” I yelled to the driver. “You’re sure you-”

She pulled her muzzle out of her feedbag to smirk at me. “Lady,” she said, “this weather’s nothing. And if you think I’m getting tired, I’m a draft pony of the earth tribe with a cutie mark in carriage-pulling. I could go nonstop for days on nothing but grains and a gallon of water.”

I sniffed. Even through the rain, I could tell she wasn’t eating grains. “And what’ve you got now?”

“Coffee beans and electrolyte drinks. If you tried to replace me, I’d kick the inside of the carriage out before we’d gone a mile to get rid of all my energy.”

“Fine. Won’t be asking again.” And I finally meant it.

I sat back down, rolled the window up, and turned my attention to the carriage’s only other occupant. My daughter hadn’t moved much, which had me worried. Even if she wasn’t the life of the party, she was still the upbeat kind. I’d never seen her this listless before, not even that one time she was sick with the flu and spent all night in the bathroom vomiting or feeling ready to vomit.

I cleared my throat. “Levanta?”

She sort of flopped her head over to look at me without moving the rest of her body. “Yeah?” Her voice was dull, flat, almost lifeless.

“Are you doing okay?”

“Fine, Mom.” She flopped her head back to look out the window. “Just like the last ten times you asked me.”

Translation: she wasn’t fine at all. When I first got the decree ordering me to Delta, she’d said she was okay with it. I thought I knew her pretty well, but now, I could only wonder if she’d been lying. “You’re sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“You don’t feel cooped up at all? You can go for a flight as long as you don’t stray too far from the carriage.”

Levanta’s wings rustled slightly, but that was it. “I said I’m fine.”

The late stages of adolescence are the worst. Not because teens are at their most rebellious or most independent (even though they are), but because they’re so close to adulthood that they feel the need to act Very Grown Up and be Independent and they Don’t Want Your Help, Mother. They have the last little bit of immaturity left that’s terrified of looking immature and avoid (gasp) parental help at all costs. 10-year-old Levanta would’ve told me all about this before we even got in the carriage. 16-year-old Levanta felt the need to struggle in silence no matter how many lifelines I tossed her way, and I was running out of ways to reach her.

“Listen…” I leaned closer to her. “I know you’re almost an adult, but there’s nothing wrong with talking to me if you need to. Don’t think I can’t see how you’re acting.”

“Mmhmm.” Levanta hadn’t even twitched.

Resigned, I settled back into my seat and stared out the window. I wasn’t good at thinking in carriages. But once we were settled in a little, I’d start drilling her daily. No sugarcoating, no cushioning. I’d drag her a sunblasted therapist if I had to. I couldn’t let her wallow like this.





I really wished Delta had a train station, but the mountains were unkind to railroads and the expense was too high, or so I’d been told. The only way into town from a long way away was carriages (for passengers) and carts (for cargo). Our own carriage had a cart attached to the back with all of our property for the move, but once we pulled into Delta at sunset, I was suddenly paranoid the waterproofed covering hadn’t been enchanted properly and everything would be ruined.

I tried to take my mind off it by examining Delta. I knew this kind of town; I’d worked in over half a dozen ones just like it. Everypony knew everypony, the police were underworked, and ponies rarely came or left. Slightly societally insular, maybe, but very friendly. The buildings, seen through the rain and encroaching darkness, looked well-kept and were painted in bright colors. I wondered if the colors were so bright to make them visible in the rain. The road could use a bit of work — the carriage was bouncing quite a bit — but it was alright. Besides, I doubted I’d be using a carriage again until I left, and I had no problem with uneven ground.

I glanced at Levanta. She was looking out her own window with (at best) mild interest.

With Delta being such a small town, it wasn’t long before we arrived at our house. It was fronted by a porch and, as I’d been told, small, which was fine, since Levanta and I didn’t need much more. It had been painted robin’s-egg-blue sometime recently; the wood looked old, but the color looked new. The yard was large, with a tree growing in the center of it. The windows were neat, square, and welcoming. From the outside, at least, it looked nice enough, if you ignored the “For Sale SOLD” sign on the front lawn.

Once the driver came to a stop, I’d exited the carriage and gone to the cart in the back, not caring about the rain. I peeked under the tarp. My fears turned out to be unfounded; everything was as dry as could be. I quickly pulled out a certain box and trotted it inside. I’d put the sheets in last, so I’d know where they were and we could make the beds quickly once everything was unpacked.

By the time I was back at the cart, the driver had unhitched herself and was balancing three boxes on her back. “You know I got this, right?” she asked. The box tower barely teetered as she walked. Considering she was an earth pony, I wasn’t sure how she’d gotten it set up in the first place. “It was in the contract.”

“I know,” I said. I pulled out another box.

The driver chuckled. “Well, if you wanna.”

The second time back, I rapped on the other door of the carriage. Levanta still hadn’t come out yet. “Hey. Levvi. If you want, you can head inside.”

Levanta looked at me, sighed, and dropped from the carriage. “Alright.” She took a step forward.

“And if you’re looking for something to do, could you try to sort the boxes a little? I don’t want to spend the evening trying to find where we put the silverware.”

“Sure, Mom,” mumbled Levanta. She loped to the house, her wings over her head to block out the rain.

The driver watched her go. “She’s not always like that, is she?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Sorry. Moving’s always hard. I’ve seen my fair share of ponies like her.”

My coat was almost soaking by the time we got all the boxes in. Luckily, the porch provided enough shelter for me to shake myself off without getting everything inside wet. The boxes escaped a drenching.

The driver trotted in. “Triple-checked. That’s the last of it, unless you had something in the carriage…?”

“Nothing that we haven’t brought in.”

“Good, good,” the driver said, nodding. “Thank you for your service, ma’am, and-” She extricated a clipboard from her saddlebags. “-if you’ll just sign here…”

I scribbled Swan Dive on the dotted line, initialed here, initialed there, signed over there, and we were good to go. “Thaaaaank you,” said the driver, retrieving the clipboard. “Hope you have a pleasant stay.” She tipped an invisible hat and trotted out the door.

And we were moved in. Not yet officially, since none of the boxes had been unpacked, but that was all that was left to do. All of a sudden, I felt like I’d been the one who’d pulled the carriage and cart how many dozens of miles. It wasn’t physical weariness; it was the “I don’t want to do anything” of burnout. You’d think I’d be used to moving by now.

But burnout or no, we still needed dinner. Levanta was stretched out on her back on the couch, her wings splayed out, one front and one rear hoof both dangling over the edge to touch the floor. I cleared my throat. “I know it’s late, Levanta, so do you want me to just go out and order pizza? Or subs?” It wasn’t completely a weak attempt to cheer her up; Levanta’s the one who does the cooking and I knew she was tired. Among other things.

“Subs,” she said, staring at the ceiling.  “BLT.”

“Mayo?” I probed.

“Mom, you know I hate mayo.” Probe failure. She hadn’t even looked at me.

I sighed and got to my hooves. There was a map of Delta in one of the smaller boxes; I’d need to find a sub place on it. When I found the map, I looked through it on autopilot as I tried to think of something to say to Levanta. Thunderhead had always been more personable than me; he’d’ve known what to do. But he was gone, so it was just me and her. How long could this relationship last?





One of the benefits of small towns: it was hard to get lost. Going from my house to (what I assumed was) the town square took only a few minutes. With the sun mostly set, the streetlamps were being lit. It was still raining, but I didn’t bring an umbrella. A little water wasn’t going to hurt me. The few ponies still out and about didn’t look twice at me.

The restaurant I was looking for wasn’t in the square, but I’d memorized the map and knew it wasn’t far off, either. I paced around the fountain in the middle, orienting myself. “Okay,” I muttered, “Halter Couture is over there, and that’s the northwest corner of the square, so-”

“Lost?”

I jumped in surprise, something that hadn’t happened in years. An earth stallion had snuck up on me out of nowhere, almost literally; I hadn’t known somepony could move that quietly. “Not really,” I said, trying to collect my thoughts. “Just looking.”

“Hmm?” He smiled. “For what?” Maybe it was the near-darkness and the rain, but his coat looked to be a weird, pallid blue. His eyes were one of the most striking shades of bronzy-orange I’d ever seen.

“Just a- sub place,” I said. I kept my voice level. Something about him — his sudden appearance, maybe — didn’t sit right with me. He felt… oily, almost. Like his smile wasn’t completely genuine.

“Easy. Reinaldi’s is-”

“A few streets over that way, I know.” I set off in the relevant direction.

“Hey!” He caught up faster than I would’ve guessed. “Name’s Crooked River. You new? I haven’t seen you around before.”

“Kinda. Just moved here.”

“What’s your name?” We turned a corner. I could see the shop down at the end of the street.

“Swan Dive.”

“C’mon, Swan, I-”

“Look,” I said, turning on him. “No offense, but I just spent the last day traveling. I’m beat and hungry and not in the mood.” I wiped a damp bit of mane out of my eyes. “So could you leave me alone for now?”

Crooked River stopped on a bit. One of his ears twitched, then he broke out in that smile again. “Right. Sorry. Maybe I’ll see you around?”

I shrugged noncommittally and grunted.

“Yeah. Maybe.” He raised his nose and sniffed. “Food smells good, doesn’t it?” He walked back down the street, chuckling, and vanished into the dark.

Hesitantly, I sniffed. I couldn’t smell anything, not through the rain. I stared at the spot Crooked River had vanished, trying to fix his face into my memory. That was somepony I wanted to stay away from.





The table had been set when I got home. I sorted out my and Levanta’s sandwiches as I called out, “Levanta! Dinner’s here!”

Levanta loped into the room and we began to eat. I thought mine was more than alright. After a few bites, I glanced at Levanta. She was chewing her beets like they were made of rubber. I took another bite. Levanta kept chewing and chewing and chewing.

I cleared my throat. “So? Is your sandwich good?”

Levanta swallowed. “Fine.” She took another bite.

“Good fine? Bad fine?”

Mouth-full mumble.

“Do you want me to remember this place for the future?”

Swallow. “If you want.” Bite.

And that was the extent of our conversation for that night. Whenever I tried talking, Levanta just happened to tear off another part of her sandwich and occupy her mouth. And right when she was done, she pushed away from the table and said, “Made the beds while you were out. Going to sleep. ’Night.”

“Levanta-!” I protested. But she was already heading up the stairs.

I didn’t follow. I probably should’ve, but I was at a loss as to what to do once I caught up with her. I did my best, but parenting had never really clicked for me the way ranging and surveying did. Was I a bad parent?

I gave Levanta a few minutes to “settle down” before going upstairs, which consisted of not much more than two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a linen closet. I gave my room a quick once-over; it was small and the furniture was sparse, but the queen-sized bed had been made, and quite well, too. I went to the other bedroom. Knock knock. “Levanta?”

Grunt.

“Thanks for making the beds.”

Grunt.

“Sleep well. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

Grunt.

I felt like I was drowning. I was flailing, trying everything I knew to no effect. Maybe I was too gentle, giving her too much leeway, but discipline had been hard for me. Not that Levanta had needed much of it; it was simply now that she needed some prodding, I couldn’t bring myself to prod hard enough. I just wasn’t the right parent for Levanta right now. Thunderhead was.

Three days, I told myself. Three days. Then I’m pushing.

When I finally turned in, I had the whole bed to myself. It felt empty.
> 2 - Apex Predation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

When my alarm went off at 5:45, I was up in moments. Breakfast was a few slices of peanut-buttered bread stuffed into my mouth, clothes were just the olive-green shirt of my ranger uniform (plus a pair of saddlebags for moving my books into my office), and grooming was nil except for brushed teeth. I do my important work outside; so what if my mane was frizzy? The forest didn’t care.

Levanta was still sleeping. Not wanting to wake her up, I scribbled out a note and taped it to the inside of her door.



Levanta,

At work. Spare key on the counter. Remember to lock up when you leave and have a good day at school!

- Mom



I really, really hoped it wasn’t patronizing, but Levanta needed to know that I was still around for her to talk to. She was sixteen; what was I supposed to say? Something as open as “feel free to talk to me” would only make her push me away to show she was Independent. Right? I’d been trying that for so long with no response.

Not for the first time, not for the last, I wished Thunderhead was still alive.





As it turned out, Delta didn’t exactly have a police station; its police and fire station had been combined into one. It made it a little easier to find, at least, since the building was so oddly-shaped. One side had the squatness of a police station, while the other had the wide garages necessary for the tender carriages. Luckily, it was only a few minutes’ walk from my house; I wondered if the Crown had done that on purpose.

The station was neither busy nor large. A few ponies glanced up quizzically at me before going back to whatever work they’d been doing. I kept track of the names on the few offices as I passed — Homeguard, Clearwater, Swan Dive (mine), Weneighchee, and so on — so I’d know who I was working with. I was examining the names so intently that I walked right on by the one labelled Sheriff Cascadia before I remembered who I was supposed to report to and doubled back.

The unicorn inside reminded me of a guard: stocky and no-frills. She even had the stereotypical dark steel coat and trimmed white-and-blue mane. Her eyes were the blue that could have the warmth of a summer sky or the chill of a frozen lake, depending on her mood. At the moment, they were in “chill” mode. She was scribbling something down, glaring at the paper like she wanted it to explode, and pressing the quill down so hard she was at risk of pushing it completely through. She didn’t seem to have noticed me entering her office. “Fur-ther-more,” she enunciated under her breath, “while we are here to serve and pro-tec-t, that does not mean you have the right to-”

“E-excuse me,” I said, “but I-”

She held out a hoof without looking up. “Hold on a sunblasted minute,” she growled. “Need to get this bullcrap out of my system. Sorry, but it’s better for both of us. Take a seat. Be done in a moment.” She gestured towards the empty chair in the room and went straight back to muttering almost-obscene nothings.

I clenched my jaw, but sat down without saying anything. Hopefully, hopefully, I’d caught her at a bad time. Whatever her problem was, it seemed bad. She kept sounding like she was ready to snap and let loose an ungodly storm of military profanities, even though the words themselves would be nothing but polite, yet firm, when read aloud.

“Sin-cer-e-ly,” the mare hissed, “Sheriff. Cas. Ca. Di. A.” She dotted her last i particularly fiercely and stuffed the paper into her desk with more force than was necessary. Groaning, she ruffled what little mane she had. “Sorry,” mumbled the mare. “Bad morning. Had to get up real early. Some stallion was complaining about- Frig, I barely remember. Something stupid. Going to leave him a friendly reminder to not do that.” She puffed herself up so quickly it was like somepony had stuck a pin in her rump. “Anyhoo! Sheriff Cascadia of Delta. You’re the Ranger?”

“Yes’m.” I clapped a foreleg across my chest. “Ranger Swan Dive, reporting for duty, ma’am.”

“Excellent,” Cascadia said with a nod. “And now that we’ve got the formalities out of the way, you can drop the ‘ma’am’ if you like. I’m not big on titles, ’specially not in a place this small.” She dug a thick folder out of her desk and dropped it between us. “So. To business. What’ve you heard about the situation here?”

“Not much,” I said. “Animals getting killed — big ones, too, like bears — and nopony seems to know what’s going on. There aren’t any monsters in the area that could do that sort of damage. But whatever’s doing it, it hasn’t hurt any ponies yet.”

“Mostly right,” Cascadia replied, “but technically, there is a chimera about a hundred miles north. She just wasn’t down here when the attacks happened.”

I didn’t probe. Chimeras were easy to track; if she said the chimera had stayed put, the chimera had stayed put.

“Now, I heard you prefer to work alone, yeah?”

“Yes’m, although I might want a pony or two to help once I’ve got a solid view of the situation.”

“Right. Don’t spring it on me at the last second, and we shouldn’t have a problem.” Cascadia tapped the folder. “All autopsy reports in there, statements from the ponies who found the bodies, maps of where they were found, the works. Let me know if I missed something.”

“Will do, and thank you.” I took the folder and started looking through it. I only saw a little, but my instincts felt good about it.

“And your office-”

“Saw it. Down the hall on my left.”

“Perfect. Any other questions?”

“Nope.”

“Then dismissed, Swan. Make me proud.”

I saluted at Cascadia — it seemed the right thing to do — and left her office. Outside, I dug out one of the less-detailed maps that showed where each body was found, draped it over one of my front legs, and hobbled three-legged towards my office as I examined it.

An earth stallion backed out of an office right in front of me; I barely managed to pull myself to a stop before hitting him. “-and would you like me to stop by Windfall’s?” he was saying. “She wanted to double-check that her additions were still up to code.”

I wanted to edge around him, but the hall was narrow and didn’t give me the room. I cleared my throat. “Excuse me?”

The stallion yelped, jumped about a foot in the air, and snapped to face me so fast it was like there wasn’t any in-between state. His breath seemed caught in his throat and his pupils were dilated to a strange degree.

“Um, sorry,” I said nervously, “but you’re kinda-”

“Sorry,” he said quickly. “Just- shocked. Is all.” He blinked and gave me a strange look, but scooted to one side to let me pass. He turned back to the office. “I-I am sorry, what was that?”

I mentally catalogued him: earth stallion, pale-gray coat, bronzed mane and tail, golden eyes. And I mean golden eyes, not just yellow; they had an almost metallic quality to them. I’d have to ask if he was always that wound-up. I slid past him.

My office had everything I needed, and a few things I didn’t but really liked, primarily a big posterboard and pins. I quickly pinned up the map I was looking at, as well as what other maps I could. Then I leafed through the autopsy reports, found the first one, and began reading.





Delta’s problem was a simple one: the predators were being preyed upon, and no one knew by what.

It’d started several moons ago, when a mare who’d been searching for truffles had stumbled upon a dead mountain lion. Oddly, the only external wound was a mangling on one of its hind legs, near the femoral artery. Otherwise, it had suffered severe blunt force trauma, with two broken legs, several broken ribs, a snapped neck, and possibly a concussion. At the time, it had just been a creepy one-off, with nothing saying ponies should be worried.

Then a bear turned up dead with similar injuries, less than two weeks later. Another week later, a splintercat. After one and a half weeks, a wolf.

In spite of its isolation, Delta didn’t have a dedicated ranger or even an animal control department. It’d never needed one; as in many small towns, problems with the animals tended to be small and were usually handled by the police, which meant officers got on-the-job training, and for free to boot. But when faced with something like this, they had nothing. Which was where I, as a ranger, came in.

I leafed through the autopsy reports, looking for commonalities. They weren’t hard to find. The most obvious was that every animal was a large predator. I’d almost written “apex predator” in my notes, but the dead splintercat messed that up. In spite of their size, splintercats were mesopredators, occasionally preyed upon by wolves and cougars. I never saw any herbivores or (thank goodness) sapient species among the dead. All the victims were also fleshy, with no arcanoanimals like timberwolves (a tidbit that had been necessary to note more often than one might think).

Injuries were also similar. Most of the damage was blunt force: broken bones, often brain injuries, some abrasions. However, there would always be an open wound of some kind, typically not too far from a major blood vessel. The edges of these wounds were ragged, as if they’d been forcibly ripped open rather than cut open with claws or teeth. Autopsy notes also frequently noted that the poor animals had been exsanguinated to some degree, but the coroner couldn’t tell if they’d bled to death or if the blood had been lost postmortem.

When I was done with the autopsies, I had to admit to myself that species was one of the few things between the deaths that wasn’t common across incidents. It was hard to build a predation profile when almost everything was the same from attack to attack.

I pushed away from my desk and looked up, cataloguing the information and trying to filter out possible suspects. The typical predators were right out, since they were the ones being preyed upon. The typical pony might then jump to dragons, but they ate gems and occasionally rock. (Besides, there weren’t any this far out anyway; being reptiles, they didn’t like the cold, even if their inner fire meant they were technically endothermic.) It could’ve been a teenage dragon trying to assert their dominance, but there’d been no burn marks anywhere. The only chimera was too far away. If it’d been a manticore, it could’ve stung the animals and all the bludgeoning wouldn’t have been necessary. Cockatrices were too small to do that kind of damage, even assuming they didn’t petrify their prey. Windigoes did-

Hold up. It might’ve been a windigo. They couldn’t do direct physical damage, but they fed on negative emotions, and no one knew how an animal’s emotions factored into that. A windigo desperate for food might be getting some by throwing animals around and into trees to generate a few drops of fear. It was a long shot, but I scribbled windigo on a piece of scratch paper (red ink, to show it was unlikely). I looked back up at the ceiling and resumed thinking.

By the time I’d gotten through all the animals and monsters I could think of, the list of possible suspects was small and disappointingly scattershot. All but two of the names were in red ink, and those two were in yellow; there was no green. And even the yellows, I’d been stretching a bit, desperate to push them out of the red.

The biggest sticking point was the wound where the flesh had been ripped away on each animal. The injuries were far too consistent to be the product of chance; something deliberately made them. It was blunt force trauma, so that threw out it being made by sharp teeth. But the only kinds of creatures that would attack these animals were the ones with sharp teeth. I’d done my best to ignore that issue when shortlisting, saying I’d do some more filtering later. That wasn’t looking promising.

The next problem was the complete lack of other injuries. The animals been thrown around, bitten, and… not much else. It was like whatever was killing them was doing so for the sake of killing them. Why? Some kind of sadistic pleasure, maybe? But that implied sapience, and none of the creatures on my list were sapient (except windigoes, maybe). For all I knew, it could’ve been a pissed-off pony taking out their frustrations on the first big animal they found.

Which suddenly made a whole lot of sense- Except for the arterial wound. Dangit. That meant something, I knew it.

I tapped my pencil on my desk a few times and glanced at the clock. 11:49. Close enough to lunch. I grabbed my bag and headed to the clean, but cramped, room masquerading as a cafeteria.

Only a few other ponies were around, generally eating alone. I picked one at random, a pegasus digging into some ravioli, and sat down across from her. “Hey,” I said, extracting my sandwich from its plastic bag. “I’m new.”

The pegasus looked up. Her eyes were green- No, they were more vivid than that. They were viridian, optimistic and inquisitive, but a few wrinkles and various scars — a mild one on her leg, several thin ones on her right wing, etc. — told me she wasn’t naïve. She looked me up and down for a second. “Yep,” she said. “If you weren’t, I’d recognize you.”

“Ranger Swan Dive.” I shoveled part of my sandwich into my mouth.

“Deputy Clearwater.” She extended her hoof and we shook. “One quarter of Delta’s permanent police force.”

“A quarter?” That wasn’t uncommon in towns this small, but- “I passed a lot more offices than that.”

“Most of them’re fireponies.” Clearwater flitted a wing dismissively. “Since we’re both so small, keeping the fire and police departments under one roof saves money, and the fire department’s larger.” (Of course it would be. This place ran on lumber.) “Nine times out of ten, the door you pass is for a firemare. Heck, some of them work in both places, depending on what’s needed. Me, I’m just a cop.”

“Right. Got it.”

Clearwater licked some sauce off of her fork. “Found anything yet about our animal problem?” she said, half-jokingly.

“Not really,” I admitted. “The injuries are… I don’t know, they’re too…” I clicked my tongue as I searched for the right word. “…contradictory. Like, why would something kill those animals at all if it wasn’t going to do anything with the bodies?”

“Hnng. Bummer. I was kinda hoping…”

“If it was easy, I wouldn’t be here.”

“True. True.”

We ate in silence, that line of conversation exhausted. After a while, Clearwater cleared her throat. “So. Not-current-work iktus. Where-” 

“‘Iktus’?”

“You know, stuff. Where were you before now?”

“Fawkes.”

Clearwater looked up and stared. “Fawkes? What do they need rangers for in Fawkes? It’s a city and in the middle of the sunblasted desert!”

“Which is why they need somepony to, among other things, shoo the terrashots away.”

“Uh… terrashots?”

“They live in the mountains until they get a desire to migrate. Then they walk into the desert and the heat makes them explode. Messy.”

“…You’re kidding.”

Luckily, I had my shortlist hoofbook on fearsome critters with me in my bag under the chair. I pulled it out, found the right page, and pushed it to Clearwater. Her eyes were almost a blur as they jumped back and forth across the paper. “They’re… They’re coffin-shaped?”

“And that’s not getting into stuff like augerinos burrowing into leaky pipes. Yes, even places like Fawkes can use rangers in the right circumstances.”

“But nothing major, right? Nothing like this?”

“I first got stationed there because of an issue with a roaming Mogollon Monster, but…” I waved a hoof dismissively. “That’s really rare. Terrashots and augerinos and the like are easy-peasy.” I dropped my voice to a stage whisper. “I think they volunteered me for this job because I was overpaid, overqualified, and underworked.”

“Sounds like it,” Clearwater said, nodding. “What was that last thing you mentioned? Burrows into pipes?”

“An augerino. First four letters A-U-G-E.”

“Augerino,” whispered Clearwater. She flipped through the book. I could tell when she was on the right page because she blinked and tilted her head. “And that’s its head? Weird.”

I chuckled. “You ain’t seen the half of it,” I said. “You can borrow that book if you want. I’ve got it pretty much memorized.”

Clearwater nodded slowly. “Thanks,” she said. She flipped to the next page. “I think I’ll- Why does that dog have a head shaped like an axe?”

“Because it’s an axehandle hound.” An idea flitted into my mind and I changed the subject. “Say, uh, do you know the name of a light gray earth stallion? Golden eyes, kinda high-strung? I think he’s in the fire department.”

Clearwater broke off staring at axehandle hounds to stare at me. “Sleek mane and tail, both bronzed?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Homeguard, but he’s not high-strung at all. He’s normally… really smooth.”

“Really? I got caught behind him, asked him to move, and he jumped like I’d stabbed him beneath the tail with a branding iron.”

“Huh.” Clearwater frowned; one of her ears drooped. “That’s not like him at all. It’s practically impossible to catch him unawares. And I’ve been trying for almost a decade.”

“It wasn’t like that then.” I looked around the room. Homeguard wasn’t here. “Do you know when he takes his lunch?”

“He eats in his office,” said Clearwater. “Says he doesn’t like people watching him eat.” She shrugged and went back to leafing through the book.

Look for him after work, I told myself. See if you can talk to him a little. I’d never had a first impression quite like that, and my instincts told me it was a poor one. It was easy: find him, apologize for sneaking up on him (I hadn’t even tried!), get to know him a little. I was going to be here a while; I couldn’t let something like that ruin my-

“Oh, Celestia. I would not want to run into a dingmaul.”
> 3 - Settling In
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The rest of lunch passed uneventfully. Clearwater and I chatted for a bit longer before she left, taking my book with her. I polished off the last of my apple and went back to the grindstone.

The autopsies hadn’t turned up much; what about where the bodies were found? I found the most detailed map of Delta and the surrounding area that I could (it was surprisingly comprehensive), stuck it to some posterboard, and leafed through the incident reports, marking the relevant sites with pins.

It was almost the polar opposite of the autopsies, but just as disappointing. The bodies had been found scattered around Delta without much rhyme or reason. In the middle of a forest here, near a river there, up a mountain here, at the bottom of a cliff there. And yet, the catch? They were definitely centered on, or somewhere near, Delta. Not one of the bodies was more than twenty miles away, and most were nearer than fifteen.

I rubbed my chin as I stared at one of the pins. It was the closest to the city center and marked the second body found, not too far from Delta’s Chapel of Harmony. (It’d actually been found shortly after one of the services.) The more I looked at it, the more I thought I needed to visit it. Maps were useful, but though you knew what the land was like, you couldn’t feel what the land was like. Maybe each location had some sort of quality that attracted whatever creature was doing this. I doubted it — quite a lot, if I was honest with myself — but I needed to tick off all the possibilities I could. Once, a batch of timberwolves spontaneously going rabid had turned out to be the result of a confluence of minor ley lines, the kind that don’t cause much geographic shift, disrupting their arcane structure and driving them insane. I only figured that out when I was brave/stupid/desperate enough to visit their den during the day, when they were out, and the ley energies made me feel nauseated within minutes.

I quickly selected a few more nearby pins, marking off a tentative path. If I was going to visit the sites of death, I was going to do it efficiently. Not like my first time out; I still cringed at how inexperienced I’d been. I also separated out the reports for the relevant deaths; I’d take them along, just in case.

Of course, before I could do anything like visit some of the death sites, I’d need to clarify a few things. I trotted down to Cascadia’s door and knocked; Cascadia yelled out, “Come in!”

I opened the door a little and poked my head in. “Uh, hey, Cascadia?”

“Hmm?” Cascadia asked, looking up from the report she was filling out.

“How much oversight do you want with me? Should you know where I am every second of every day? Just check in mornings and evenings?”

“Well, I want to know what you’re doing, but you know what to do better than me, so…” Cascadia shrugged. “I can’t really command you. Mornings and evenings oughta be fine.” She paused and tapped her hoof on her desk. “Actually, you don’t even need to check in; just tape a note to your door or something saying what you’re out for. Like, ‘searching the forest to the north’.”

So I could more-or-less perform the investigation how I saw fit. Perfect. I’d had far too many police chiefs who thought they could do my job better than me (technically, just one, but that was still far too many) and not quite too many who kept as tight a rein as possible without stifling me. “Got it. Just FYI, I’m heading out tomorrow to get a feel for some of the sites.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

I whiled away the last few hours of the day by brainstorming. Unfortunately, it didn’t go anywhere and, rather than having lightning strike, just left my head in a mess. This was just too strange for me to say anything about it from the info I already had, and I had a nagging suspicion that any further deaths (if there even were any) wouldn’t shed much light on things. Already, this was one of the most bizarre cases I’d ever had, and my first day wasn’t even done yet.

I glanced at the clock. Actually, it was done. Just barely. I gathered my things together, shuffled my papers into piles that looked reasonably neat, and wished I’d brought a coat to work; the rain outside was still coming down. I stepped into the downpour, briefly held up a leg to shield my eyes, then stopped pretending it was doing anything. It wasn’t terrible, but a walk home in the rain was a walk home in the rain, which wasn’t fair when I’d already walked to work in the rai-

“Uh, pardon! Ranger Swan!”

Homeguard came trotting out of the police station, moving strangely, like he didn’t want to gallop. He slowed a stop in front of me; I noticed he wasn’t breathing all that heavily. He waved. “Um, uh, hello. I’m-”

“Homeguard.” I almost smacked myself. I’d said I’d try to find him, right? And yet I’d completely forgotten about him until now. “I heard.”

He twitched. And Clearwater had said he wasn’t high-strung? Yeah, right. “Um. Yes.” He swallowed. “I- I wanted to apologize for my behavior this morning. It was… not the best first impression, I admit. I was merely taken by surprise and did not handle it as well as I ought to have.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” I said, waving a hoof. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Nevertheless,” he said quickly, “I would prefer it- if we- started over.” He extended his hoof and grinned sheepishly. “Homeguard. Lieutenant Homeguard, if you would prefer specificity. Delta Fire Department.”

“If you would prefer specificity”? What was with this guy? I brushed the thought aside and shook. “Ranger Swan.” I glanced over my shoulder for a moment. “Can you walk and talk? I don’t want to be in this rain longer than I have to.”

“Yes, absolutely. Lead on.” Once we were off, he forced a cough and said, “Have you learned anything? About the deceased animals?”

“Not yet,” I said. “The reports have been good, but can only go so far. I’m going to visit some of the sites tomorrow to see if they feel strange. Maybe there’s something going on with the magic in the area.”

Homeguard twitched again and fixed me with those weirdly golden eyes. “Do you really think that?” he asked in a low voice.

I tried for a staring contest and lost in seconds. “Not really,” I said as I turned away. “But I need to exhaust all the possibilities I can. It’d just suck if we kept running in circles for moons, then I visited a few places and went, ‘Rogue destructive arcane reaction.’”

“Ah. So, eh, what do you think you will do if you cannot find the cause?”

“Dunno,” I said with a shrug. “Get another, more specialized ranger to help, probably. I’m not the most experienced one in Equestria. And if we still can’t figure it out, well… The world has its mysteries. This would just have to be one of the unsolved ones.”

“Has that happened before?”

“A few times, from what I’ve heard. Not often, and never to me.”

“Hmm.” Homeguard stared off into the rain.

I gave him a sideways look. “Why’re you looking like that? It’s part of my job to know things. It’s the entire reason I’m here. Even if this… thing never lays a claw or tentacle or whatever on a pony, we can’t let it keep killing animals. If nothing else, the decreased predator population will result in too much of their prey surviving, throwing the ecosystem out of whack and making things hard for wildlife management teams.”

“I know,” said Homeguard. “But, ah…” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I was… merely curious…” Back to me. “…about how determined you were to see this incident through.”

“Honestly, I’ll find the answer if it kills me.”

I began to question if Clearwater really knew Homeguard when he went rigid enough to stop walking for a second. This guy was acting like he’d never had a normal conversation before. I left him behind and was several yards away before he remembered that he needed to move his limbs to walk. He laughed, but it was terribly forced. “Well, ah, may your investigation not proceed that poorly!” he said, faux-brightly. “And you do mean that literally, correct?”

“You don’t punch a chimera in the face without knowing your life is on the line.”

“…Really?”

“Really really. And every single one of its faces. Not simultaneously, though.”

“How… did…” We were at an intersection; I went one way, but Homeguard broke off when he went the other. “I’m sorry I cannot go with you now, so you must tell me later!” he yelled as we separated. “It sounds fascinating!”

“Sure!” But when he was gone, I rolled my eyes. “Fascinating”? Yeah. That was one way to put it. Who even used “fascinating” anymore?





I could smell something cooking once I opened the door. I thought it was lasagna. I shrugged my saddlebags off onto the floor (I’ve never really gotten over that habit from my teenage years) and headed for the kitchen, working my way around boxes that hadn’t yet been unpacked. The oven was lit and Levanta was leaning on the counter, reading a book. Just as I walked in, she opened the oven and looked inside for a moment. “Hey, Mom,” she said flatly. “Just making sure the oven’s good. Dinner’s cooking fine.”

“Thanks,” I said. “How was your day?”

“Effh.”

I wished I was half as good at translating Adolescent Grunt as Thunderhead had been. “Is that a good ‘effh’ or a bad ‘effh’?”

“Eh.” Levanta turned a page and shrugged. “Alright.”

“Anything special?”

“Not really.”

“So what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Stupid teenage monosyllability. “Really? Nothing happened all day?”

She rolled her eyes. “Mom. You know how it is. I was dumped into a room full of ponies I didn’t know and lectured at for an hour seven times.”

“How’re your teachers? Did you me-”

“Mom, I’m making dinner.”

So that was how it was going to be: obstinate, stubborn- And I regretted the thought before I finished it. She hadn’t chosen this. She had a lot on her plate. Considering how much we moved, I was lucky this was the first time she was this withdrawn and quiet. But since it was the first time she behaved like this, I knew nothing about helping her.

Tomorrow, I told myself. You’ll get something out of her tomorrow, no ifs, ands, or buts. She needs some time, but not that much.

“Alright,” I said. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Mmhmm.”

Dinner was more of the same. Terse responses, a lack of eye contact, a voice with a thorough lack of interest in just about everything. I had to pry just to get what subjects she was taking. When Levanta finished her dinner, she deposited her plate and silverware in the sink and went straight up to her room. I yelled up after her that the lasagna was delicious (it really was, even if it was a simpler recipe than usual) and got nothing back but a possibly affirmative mumble.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow.

I was midway through cleaning the dishes when the doorbell rang. I almost didn’t know what it was at first, not having heard the doorbell yet. But the bigger issue was that nopony here knew where I lived yet and nopony had much of a reason to talk to me outside of work. So why-?

The doorbell rang again.

I squinted through the peephole and sucked in a breath in surprise. Crooked River was on the doorstep, an earth mare leaning lightly on him. They were whispering something to each other. Part of me, a part I should’ve listened to, was disturbed that he’d found my house, but most of me was just pissed at seeing him again. Against my better judgement, I yanked the door open.

Already, River was grinning that strange smile of his, and it still didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey, Swan!” he said brightly. “I-”

“What are you doing at my house?” I snapped.

“I-” He seemed caught off-guard. “I just wanted to-”

“Just what in Celestia’s name are you doing at my house?!”

“Well, if you let me talk,” he sniped, “you’d know!”

“Not interested. Go away.” And I slammed the door in his face.

Or tried to.

River’s leg snapped up in an instant and he braced the door with a hoof. “C’mon…” he said, back to sunny again. He casually pushed the door open a little. “Just lemme talk.” And when I say “casually”, I mean “casually”. I was bracing myself against the door, trying to push it shut, but it didn’t feel like it was costing him any effort at all. Even if I’m not the strongest earth pony out there, I’m still in the upper fifty percent. He still should’ve struggled a little. My throat suddenly seemed too tight to breathe.

Before I could respond, the mare spoke up. “Now, now, River,” she said in a raspy voice. “You’re being aggressive again. Remember what we said about being aggressive?” I peeped around the door; even as she was reprimanding River, she didn’t seem to put-out by his actions. In fact, she was looking at him with vague amusement.

“Speckle,” River protested, “I-”

“What? Did? We say?” But Speckle’s voice wasn’t stern or remonstrative. It was light, teasing, almost playful, yet also slightly condescending, like something a mother might say to an overemotional toddler.

My heart pounding, I pushed on the door. It didn’t budge an inch. I don’t think they even noticed me.

River groaned through clenched teeth and rolled his eyes, but he didn’t put his hoof down. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Won’t let-”

Speckle lightly bopped him on the back of the head and pushed his hoof aside. “Sweetie. Let me handle this.” Just as casually as River had, she pushed the door open. I thanked Celestia that she didn’t try to make a move inside. In the better light, I saw that she had the most scarlet eyes I’d ever imagined; I had to keep myself from shivering. “I apologize for Crooked River,” she said. “He’s an idiot with no social skills.”

“Hey!”

“He wanted to apologize for the way he treated you yesterday.” Speckle smiled at me, but even more than River, it didn’t look right. It felt smug, maybe even mocking. “It was a bit out of line, don’t you think?”

My mouth felt dry as I said, “Yeah. Kinda. Sure.”

“And he’s…” Speckle glanced back at River and chuckled. “He’s not a ponies pony, so he doesn’t always know the best way to say something.”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” I said. “I get it. But- But in the future, could you- not just- walk right up to me and start-”

“I won’t,” River said quickly. “Sorry for yesterday.”

“Right.” I swallowed. “Thanks.”

Silence fell where the rain didn’t. Suddenly, Speckle said, “Welp! That’s that! Thanks for your time, and g’night!” She turned around and walked off into the night. River glanced at me; he might’ve smirked, but that might’ve been my imagination. Then he followed her away.

The moment I closed the door, I collapsed, hugging myself to stop shaking and breathing heavily.

How the fuck had they found my house? Nopony else knew where I was living. I hadn’t told anypony. I wasn’t in any address books yet. And yet River already knew where my home was. And he had chosen to “apologize” to me by casually walking up to me in my house. There was something more to this. There had to be. And even if she wasn’t helping him, Speckle knew what was going on. For all she said, she’d been watching us like River was a drunk, incompetent cat trying to catch me, a mouse in a bucket. She’d enjoyed it.

I looked through the peephole. I couldn’t see either of them through the rain. I still flicked the bolt shut. Then I tugged over a box of shovels and other yard gear and put it in front of the door.

I didn’t sleep well that night.
> 4 - Getting Your Bearings
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I swung by the station house to slap a taped “out for the day” sign on my door and was off to the chapel. It was on the edge of town, not too far off the main road, and the closest building to my first destination out in the forests. I quickly settled into an easy trot along the road.

With the precipitation down to a mere drizzle, and the weather plan saying it’d vanish completely before noon, I took the opportunity to really examine the forest for once as the buildings thinned. I’d never seen anyplace so alive and… green. I’d been in forests before, of course. I’d guess that a good seventy-five percent of my past work was in forests. But everything here was green. Moss covered the tree trunks and ferns poked out of nearly every bare patch of dirt. And yet, somehow, all that green wasn’t monotonous. Thanks to the rain, the forest sparkled like a thousand emeralds. All this greenery was rare this late in autumn, but distant towns didn’t always keep the strictest seasonal schedules.

I was lucky the road I was following went straight to the chapel, or I might’ve missed it. The road was well-traveled, but the building itself was nestled out of easy sight from the main roads. The chapel was a bit larger than I’d expected, although it still had the same tight, compact feeling of small-town chapels everywhere, the same brown wooden sides, the same traditional arrangement of entrances, the same bell tower maintained out of habit, the same irregular layout of what started out a small, basic building but grew in a hodgepodge at the same rate as the town as its needs grew. It reminded me of Halterdale’s; I grinned as my sister’s wedding sprang to mind. Happiest day of her life.

There was a carving of two alicorns above the entrance closest to me. Princesses Celestia and Luna, obviously; even though they’d tried to discourage attempts to deify them, to claim their place in the Harmony of Equestria, ponies kept putting them on a pedestal for some strange celestial-body-moving reason. But when I took a closer look, it wasn’t Princesses Celestia and Luna. It was Princesses Luna and Twilight. And suddenly, the carving took on a new meaning beyond the usual “the Princesses are so great!” truisms. Luna, formerly driven mad by anger and envy, accepted back into Harmony. Twilight, once a humble unicorn devoted to learning about friendship, changed because she reached some higher understanding of Harmony. Somepony in this town took Harmony far more seriously than I ever did.

After a few moments of admiring the carving (the artistry was amazing), I turned to head off into the woods. I promptly turned right back around to enter the chapel. If there was any sexton inside, they ought to know just who the unfamiliar pony skulking around their chapel was and what she was doing. Just in case. The sanctuary was merely functional objectively, with the basic altar and simple pews, but felt well-worn and homey. I could see a slight dent on the wall where a door handle kept banging into it, trails on the floor where pews had been dragged aside, the exquisite polish on the windows, the well-arranged piles of wood near the altar. It was a place that’d been used fondly and often.

The warm and fuzzy feeling was broken up by the infrequent dripping coming from a small hole in the roof and plopping into a bucket. A pegasus was hovering just under the hole, holding a board and trying to find the best way to use it to cover the hole. I thought she hadn’t noticed me — I wasn’t especially loud and she was very engrossed in her work — but as soon as I looked at her, she held up a hoof. “Juuuuuust a second,” she said. “Gotta check one last thing…” She tilted the board one way, then another, then gruffly snorted. “Yeah, no.” She dropped to the floor and leaned the board against a wall next to — I noticed them for the first time — a hammer and a set of nails.

Before I could say anything, the mare was right up next to me. She had the same golden eyes as Homeguard; maybe they were related. “Hey!” she chirped. “You look new! Hearty Hail, but you can just call me Hailey. Everypony else does.” She laughed. “What kind of a weird name is Hailey? But I like it, so, y’know.” She shrugged. “So whatcha doin’ here?”

I coughed to stall for time; Hailey talked fast and it took me a little while to adjust. “You, you know the animal deaths that have been happening around here?”

“Ooo, yeah,” Hailey said in a slower, lower voice. She nodded solemnly. “It’s real sad, isn’t it?” Then the smile was back. “Which probably means you’re… Wait, wait, don’t tell me!” She waved a hoof in my face and banged herself in the forehead. “You’re… the… I know you’re the ranger, but darnit, I can’t remember your name!” She smiled apologetically. A smile seemed to be her default expression, with various modifiers added to show emotion.

“Swan Dive. I-”

“That was it!” Hailey said, stomping lightly on the ground. “I can’t believe I didn’t remember it! It’s a nice name. All trochaic, y’know? Swan Dive. Like Hai-ley. Or Home-guard. Prin-cess Lu-na. Trochees are fun.”

“I was-”

“You’re gonna investigate the spot where we found the bear, right? Total bummer when that happened. And right after the service, too. I mean, the abbot’s all like, ‘Harmony, Harmony, Harmony’, then you walk outside and find a big ol’ bear sitting dead on the path, which is a bit of a mixed message if there ever was one.”

She took a breath, and I spoke as quickly as I could so she couldn’t get a word in and run off with the conversation again. “Right yes I just wanted to let you know what I was doing so you wouldn’t think a stranger was lurking around the chapel.”

“Yeah, yeah, I getcha. Say, you want me to show you the exact spot where we found the body? Just in case, y’know.”

“Aren’t you busy with…?” I pointed up at the roof.

“Efh.” Hailey shrugged vaguely. “Showing you the place’ll only take like a sec and I probably need to get some more boards for the leak anyway. C’mon!” Before I could say anything, she was heading out the door in a weird gait that was half-walk, half-low-flight. I followed her down a narrow puddle-soaked path, hoping she wasn’t nearly as ditzy as she seemed.

She wasn’t. I opened my mouth to ask Hailey if she remembered anything, and she was prattling off the answers before I’d said anything, like she’d read my mind. “So you probably want to know about who found it, right?” she asked. “Interrogating the witnesses. I’m telling you, the butler did it!” She giggled. “But for real. It was e-xac-tly nine weeks, four days-” She glanced up at the sky, even though the sun was hidden behind a bank of clouds. “-twenty-two hours, thirty-eight minutes, and twelve, thirteen, fourteen seconds ago, so just after eleven o’clock nine weeks ago Saturday if you wanna be easy about it. It was found by whassisface, Lodestone. He wasn’t feeling great and left just after the final meditation, and bam! Dead bear next to the path home, which didn’t do wonders for his health.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. That was about what the report had said. No mention of Lodestone’s health, but I doubted that was an issue.

“But you know the weird thing?” Hailey stage-whispered. “The bear couldn’t’ve been there before the service, ’cause he always takes that path to and from the chapel. But at the same time, we never heard anything, which we totally probably should’ve.”

Ricking-racking reports that left out the important parts. Ricking-racking me that didn’t notice the gaps in the reports. Ricking-racking innocuousness. I’d never even considered that before, but now I was wondering if I’d subconsciously ignored it. Of course the bear had to have died during the service. The reports hadn’t mentioned Lodestone seeing anything on the way to the chapel, and a dead animal definitely should’ve attracted his attention.

But the apparent silence with which the bear was killed was yet another mystery. The chapel wasn’t a place that was abandoned and infrequently visited. Ponies visited there en masse at least once a week. Whatever was killing the animals, it wasn’t skittish around untrained ponies, like a lot of animals are.

“Riiiiight there!” said Hailey. She pointed at the crest of a hill. “Just below the summit. Is ‘summit’ the right word for the top of a hill? It’s not very mountain-y.”

I shrugged. “Dunno. Thanks for showing me.”

“Yep!” Hailey saluted. “And I’ll be at the chapel if you need me!” She fly-hopped back down the path.

I rooted around the site, not feeling that optimistic. I often had a Bad Feeling if there was something off about a place, and absolutely nothing about this area was suspicious. The plants were moving as they should. The birds were twittering peacefully. The wind smelled fine. The ground didn’t have any strange prints. And when I still felt healthy half an hour later, I knew nothing was wrong with any ley lines that may or may not have been around.

Standing on the top of the hill, I took in the land it overlooked. I couldn’t see anything off from up here, either. A perfectly normal patch of forest, with the usual lumps in the land. Not even anything as unusual as a stream. With a sigh, I began doing a circuit of the area. I’d bet my life that ill magic contaminating the land wasn’t the problem, but I’d never hear the end of it if it was and I’d overlooked it because I was lazy. I examined the area for I don’t know how long and didn’t find a blade of grass out of place.

Which was a bit unusual. Bears were, naturally, big and fierce. Even if one got attacked and didn’t run, it’d put up a damn good fight. But I couldn’t find any evidence of either fight or flight, not even evidence that looked several months old. No big broken branches, no clawed furrows, no rocks with the moss on the wrong side. So the bear had been taken by surprise. That’d make sense, what with the congregation not hearing any bear attacks. The bear had to have been killed quickly, before it could fight back at all or make any noise. And the blunt force trauma, inflicted after the bear was dead, was pure sadism.

Whatever was doing this, it was intelligent.

It was like I was getting a buy-one get-one deal on cans of worms. Nothing about this made sense. The thing responsible was intelligent, yet deliberately went after the most aggressive, most dangerous animals in the area. It wasn’t afraid of ponies, yet seemed to be actively avoiding them. It kept attacking animals, yet not for any visible reason. It was heartless enough to brutalize bodies after its victims were dead, yet controlled enough to only do it once every one or two weeks.

I needed a different perspective, something to force me out of my usual way of thinking. I could try talking to some of the animals in the area; there was always a chance — no, a strong likelihood — they’d seen something. Animal communication was the skill in my ranger toolset I was worst at, but I was half-decent at it. Unfortunately, I’d need to talk to predators, particularly — shudder — bears. Bears were mean. Brutish, nasty, ravenous, and suffering from poor self-control, bears were something I wanted to stay far, far away from. I’d heard the Element of Kindness, Shutterfly or whatever, could convince bears to sit down and enjoy tea parties. If that was true, she deserved to be princessed on the spot. Still, beggars and choosers.

I stopped by the chapel to thank Hailey again (she was already well on her way to fixing the hole in the roof) and headed off into the forest for the next site. I followed the path I’d set in an autopilot sort of way, my conscious mind almost entirely detached from the movement of my hooves. I kept running over alternate plans, in case none of the other places yielded anything. “Talk to the animals” was the one that popped up the most. If I had another body, it’d be better, but-

I spotted something ahead: a low black shape loping through a gap in the trees. A wolf, from the looks of it (and a regular gray one, not a timberwolf). I immediately turned and trotted after it; predators could be hard to find at the best of times, so I’d take whatever lucky breaks I got. The wolf wasn’t moving fast; I wondered if it was stalking something. As I drew closer to it, it didn’t seem that way. Maybe it was just walking from one hunting ground to the other. I kept my wits around me, since the pack was probably still close by. When I deemed I was a close enough distance to it, I yelled, “Hey!”

The wolf twitched to look at me, and in a second it was charging-

Stand your ground, my training instantly said. Wolves are faster than you.

-barking, spit flying from its muzzle-

Stay low, keep your legs bent. When it tries to pounce, jump to one side.

-as its claws dug furrows into the ground-

Watch out for the rest of the pack. They might flank you.

-and less than twenty feet from me, it stopped, still barking itself hoarse.

I flicked my gaze left for an instant, right for an instant. No wolves immediately visible. Maybe there was something wrong with this wolf and it’d gotten kicked out of the pack. Maybe that was why it was barking at me like I was the devil. I took a closer look at it. I could see the whites of its eyes all the way around and its ears were as flat as I’d ever seen. It was scared. It was an apex predator, and it was scared.

“Easy, easy,” I said, raising a hoof in caution. “I’m not gonna hurt you, alright?”

Not alright by the wolf. It feinted a lunge then pranced backwards, barking all the while. I didn’t make a move; best to let it lead this encounter, give it some feeling of control (unless I needed to make myself scarce). It stopped barking for a second, then redoubled its efforts. And I don’t care how much experience you have, wolves are scary in the right circumstances. I almost took a step back or ten. But I didn’t, so the wolf’s barking died out and it stared quizzically at me.

“Yeah,” I said in a low voice. “Real scary. I am not going to hurt you.”

The wolf took a step, two steps forwards. It was growling in the not-quite-aggressive “don’t get any ideas” way, its fangs not exactly bared. I motioned it closer and its ears went up a little.

“See?” I said. “Easy. Do you know anything about what’s going on here?”

The wolf cautiously padded up to me. I held still as it sniffed my hooves. It yiped in surprise and bolted into the forest.

“H-hey!” I yelled, far too late for it to hear. “Wait! I just…” I groaned. Just what I needed. Whatever was around had all the animals on edge, too. Should’ve seen that coming. I’d probably need to talk to small animals, like squirrels, which… Well. I don’t know if it was my own semi-ineptitude with animal communication, but I’d always found those sorts of animals to be horrible witnesses. And that was assuming whatever the wolf had smelled on me didn’t drive them away, too.

I glanced at my hoof and, after some hesitation, sniffed it. Nothing. But then, ponies weren’t as olfaction-focused as wolves.





To my expected disappointment, the other locations turned up nothing. They weren’t even consistent with their terrain: the bottom of a gully that managed to stay out of the rain, a riverside, the middle of a meadow in a clearing. None of them turned up anything new and I didn’t get lucky again and run into another predator.

As I walked back to the station through the slowly-increasing rainfall, I came up with a new plan: try to find the dens of animals, maybe. Hard, even for a ranger, but not impossible. It’d take the better part of the next few days without help. Maybe, if one was free, I’d rope a cop in to help me. Unskilled or not, another pair of eyes would be a huge help.

I arrived the station shortly after six. Clearwater and Homeguard were outside the entrance, leaning against the wall. Clearwater was trying to wave a small, but still mostly full, bottle under Homeguard’s nose. “C’mon, try it!” she said.

“For the one-hundred-and-seventy-sixth time, no thank you,” said Homeguard, looking in the opposite direction of Clearwater.

“Y’know, Homeguard, I dunno if I’ve said this bef-”

“You have, and-”

“Alright,” I said before the conversation could get away from me, “what’s going on?”

“Clearwater is relaxing at the end of her shift and drinking,” Homeguard said flatly. “Much to her chagrin, I am taking a break during my voluntary shift and not drinking.”

“Homeguard here doesn’t drink!” Clearwater said happily. She nudged Homeguard. “Can you believe that? What kind of pony doesn’t drink?”

“I cannot abide the taste of alcohol,” said Homeguard tightly. “I retch the moment it touches my tongue.”

“I get you,” I said with a nod. “It does kinda-”

“Whaaaa?” asked Clearwater, looking at me dramatically. Somepony couldn’t hold their liquor. “You don’t drink either?”

“I never said that. I said I could understand him not liking the taste of alcohol. Let’s be honest: beer kinda tastes like shit.”

Clearwater looked at her bottle. She nodded. “Yyyeeeaaah. Kinda.” She took another swig, then offered the bottle to me. “Want some?”

“Sure,” I said, reaching forward, “I’ll give it a-”

“No!” yelled Homeguard; Clearwater and I jumped. “Clearwater, you ought to tell her what she’s in for.”

“Aw,” Clearwater said. “Anyways, this iktus?” She wiggled the bottle. “It’s super strong. No, stronger than that. Stronger than that, even. Guess the proof!”

I leaned forward and sniffed at the bottle. To my surprise, I couldn’t smell anything. “I dunno. 160?” I’d had 140 proof once on a dare. Not about to do that again.

“Nope!” Clearwater said with a grin. “190.”

…Okay, no. There was no way that was correct. I wiggled a hoof in my ear. “Come again?”

“Clearwater, at times,” said Homeguard, “will indulge in drinks that are 190 proof. 95% alcohol by volume.” He moved another inch away from her. “Why she wishes to risk impersonating a dragon when she is not fireproof, I cannot fathom.” He turned to her in response to her opening her mouth. “And claiming it prevents you from smoking does not count!”

“I’m not touching that! Shouldn’t it taste like liquid pain?” I asked, backing away. “A ball of nails sliding slowly down your throat?”

“Kinda does,” said Clearwater. She shrugged and took another drink. She was drinking 190 proof alcohol straight. “Tastes more like fire and bad decisions, though.”

“Then why do you drink it?”

“ ’Cause.”

“Do not expect a more satisfying answer from her,” said Homeguard before I could ask the obvious. “I have known her for years and that is the best I have managed.”

“Hmm. Uh, Clearwater, I was thinking… if you… feel up to it tomorrow… would you be okay with searching for predator dens with me? I might need to talk with some of them.”

Whether due to the fact that she was having alcohol so strong you could probably get drunk from the fumes or simply having seen that before, Clearwater didn’t seem too surprised at me proposing to walk into a wolf den for a friendly conversation. “Sure, I can do that,” she said. “I’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“Uh-huh. Really.”

“Really really!” she protested.

“She does have a way of avoiding hangovers,” conceded Homeguard. “I do not doubt that she will be as right as rain tomorrow.”

“You’ll see,” said Clearwater. She wiggled a surprisingly steady hoof at me. “I’ll. Be. Fine.” She coughed and pushed away from the wall. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home before the bulk of that liquor hits my system and renders me comatose for half an hour.”

I was ready to follow if she needed it, but her path was dead straight. I glanced at Homeguard and made a confused face.

“I cannot comprehend why ponies drink alcohol in the first place,” said Homeguard. “Do not ask me why she insists on such poison.”

“I know,” I said, “just…” I shrugged.

“So why do you wish to converse with the local wildlife?” Homeguard asked.

“Because by now, they’re the most likely witnesses. I’ve never been this… clueless before.” I briefly ran over what I knew, capping it off with, “…so by now, I’m either missing something really obvious or there’s something out there that nopony’s seen before.”

“Hmm. And how likely do you think the latter is?”

“Honestly? No clue. Ponies have been living in this area for centuries, but you’d be surprised at how well some animals can hide.”

“I imagine I would.”

“And discovering a new monster would be nice, but from the way it’s been acting…” I shuddered. “It’d probably send me to the hospital after I found it.”

“…Well, I would hate to see that happen,” said Homeguard.

“Yeah, well…” I shrugged. “It might. You can’t see the future.”

Homeguard’s ears twitched. He coughed. “No. You cannot.”

“Anyway, nice talking to you, but I gotta get going. Be seeing you.”

“Take care,” said Homeguard. “I hope your search tomorrow proves fruitful.”
> 5 - Baby Steps
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Levanta had made soup for dinner that night. Potato and corn chowder. Since I didn’t know much about soup, I didn’t know how much of an effort this actually was for her. Easy or hard, it tasted good.

I’d kept telling myself I’d drill into Levanta that night, no matter what. I knew my first attempt would be futile, but I went through with it anyway. I slurped down a few drops of soup and cleared my throat. “Levanta?”

“Hmm?” Levanta barely looked at me, instead licking cracker crumbs from her face.

“How was your day?”

“Eh. Fine.”

For a second, I thought about grilling her right there, but reconsidered. Maybe, if I opened up first, she’d be more willing to. And maybe a note telling me exactly what was going on in Delta would show up in my mailbox. “My day was fine, too,” I said. Slurp. “Pretty uneventful.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I was examining some of the places where the animals had been found, and… Well, there wasn’t much there. You know how it is.”

“Yyyep.”

“And this…” Slurp. “This is a really weird case. Remember the timberwolves south of Vernal Meadow? How nopony could figure out what was going on?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s kind of like that, but with even less conclusive evidence. I’m not kidding; I don’t even have a place to start. At least with the timberwolves, I could make a guess and had a place to start. Even though the guess was very, very wrong.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I haven’t told you exactly what’s up, have I? Well…” And I rambled for I don’t know how long. A while. Levanta made periodic grunts and “hmm”s to indicate she was… not that she was listening, but that she’d heard me. Eventually, I took a chance. “So, yeah,” I finished. “Strange, but not much really happened.”

“Nope.”

“So what sort of nothing happened to you?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nope.”

“Absolutely nothing?” I pressed.

“Right.”

Son of a dog. “So tell me about the nothing. What are your classes-”

Levanta abruptly pushed away from the table, leaving behind her half-full soup dish. “Going up,” she said, and was gone.

I sighed and began gathering the plates and leftovers. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes for her to get her thoughts in order. I doubted it’d do anything; maybe I was delaying myself from talking to her. But I would. In fifteen minutes.





Seventeen minutes later, I had my ear pressed to Levanta’s door. I wasn’t sure what I was listening for. Crying? Levanta had never been weepy, outside of Thunderhead’s funeral. In any case, I heard nothing, so I knocked. “Levanta?”

Grunt.

“Can I come in?”

Grunt. It was vaguely negatory, but I still had parental rights and she hadn’t locked the door. 

Her room was small, a lot of space taken up by still-packed boxes. The walls were painted in a blue that looked like it’d been sponged on, making an intricate and irregular pattern. Some of her posters had been haphazardly put up, but most of them were still rolled up in one of her boxes. She hadn’t even reassembled her bookcase; the few books that had been taken out had been tossed aside into the corners. Levanta was stretched out on a bed that looked like it hadn’t been made since she’d first put the sheets on and staring at the ceiling. “Hey,” she said without looking at me.

“We need to talk,” I said.

Levanta gathered herself up into a sitting position. “I- I’m fine.”

I sighed and sat down next to her. I gave her several feet of space. Teenagers. “Levanta,” I said with what little steel I dared, “please don’t lie to me.”

Levanta twitched and reddened slightly, but didn’t say anything.

“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay?”

“ ’M fine,” she mumbled.

I looked down my muzzle at her. I wished I had glasses so I could look over the top of them. “Feelings Inside Not Expressed?” I asked. “Freaked-out, Insecure, Nervous, and Emotional?”

Levanta stared at the floor, shaking slightly.

“Is it about Dad?” I asked quietly. I was never quite sure she’d really adjusted to it.

“Dad’s- He’s part of it, but-” Her voice almost broke when she talked. “M-Mom, I… I don’t belong here. All my friends are back in Fawkes, and the other kids, they-” Sniff. “-they’ve known each other since they were in kindergarten. It’s- It’s not like Fawkes or Salt Lick City or, or even Stauntrot. Kids came and went all the time there. N-nopony here’s changed in… I don’t know.” She blinked a few times, flinched, and looked away.

I doubted that was everything, but simply getting her to speak made me latch onto it. “How long have you been worried about this?” I asked.

“A- a while,” she said. She rubbed her eyes. “Since you said we had to move to a small town.”

Which had been only a little more than a week after the funeral. I was probably lucky I’d gotten this much out of her; I didn’t think Levanta was sure of her own emotions. It’d taken me days before I could get mine sorted. “All this time? Honey, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Mom…”

‘Don’t ‘Mom’ me. You should tell me these things. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“…I dunno,” Levanta admitted. “It… just seems…” She slouched over so much she was almost bent double. “ ’S stupid, but-”

“It’s not stupid. I’ve felt the same way, sometimes.”

Levanta didn’t respond.

“Scared?”

“…N-not re- Yes. I’m-” The word seemed to catch in her throat. “I- just- I don’t know what to do! How do you do it?”

“C’mon.” I wanted to throw a leg over her shoulders, but she would’ve just shied away. Stupid adolescence. I settled for a nudge to her ribs. “You’ve moved before.”

“It- It’s easier for you. We move someplace and it’s like you’ve always lived there. I can’t do that. And if ponies come and go, it’s, I’ll be fine, but not someplace like this.”

“It’s not easy. You j-” And then I realized the perfect way to reach her. “I never told you the first time I had to move, did I?” Talk about lucky.

Levanta turned to me, her ears twitching slightly. “No.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not long. I was twenty-one, bachelor’s in earthcraft, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, heading back home to Halterdale with a spring in my step.” I chuckled just remembering it. I’d felt like the only reason the world wasn’t my oyster was because oysters were too small. “I’d barely even gotten settled back in when somepony from the Royal Court was knocking on my door, asking if I’d like to become an accredited ranger. Short version: yes, very much.”

“And then you had to go somewhere else before you knew what was going on?” asked Levanta.

“No, actually. I was assigned to Halterdale, and suddenly I had power. It wasn’t much, and I was junior enough to be easily overruled, but if I told the right pony, ‘hey, I’m working late, gimme some coffee’, they’d gimme some coffee. And all I had to do was wrangle a manticore every now and then. Which is a lot easier than it sounds, they can be big softies.” I chuckled again. Manticores are about 75% cat and usually behave as such. “Oh, sure, I was cautioned that I’d be moved elsewhere if the need arose, but I wasn’t worried about that. Somepony else would be moved. Then, two years in, I was reminded that I was somepony else to somepony else.”

I twirled my hoof around a lock of my hair. “One day, a letter came in the mail, telling me that a town called San Hirzai, way on the other side of Equestria, was having issues with a manticore, and my manticore-wrangling was perfect for it.” The increasing horror I’d had as I’d read the letter was still clear in my mind, even though it was now so laughable. Celestia, I’d been naïve. “Now, college was the only time I’d ever gone more than twenty miles outside of Halterdale, so, naturally, I freaked. I did everything I could to stay in Halterdale; it was where my friends, family, everyone I’d known, everywhere I’d known, where all that was. But the Court shut me down and shipped me off to San Hirzai.”

“Bummer.” Levanta moved a little closer to me. “So then what?”

“I was terrified, believe it or not. I knew literally nothing about San Hirzai except that there was a manticore around. All the ponies were strange, there was a lot less green and a lot more mountains, the town was a lot bigger than Halterdale, and there were accents. I was shocked by accents. Can you believe that?”

“Wimp.” Levanta smirked a little.

“Yeah. My first day, I struggled to find the police station, got there almost half an hour late even though I’d left half an hour early, did the stereotypical eating-lunch-alone-in-the-corner thing at twenty-three at my job, and was barely able to communicate with the ponies I was supposed to work with.”

Levanta stared. One ear flopped down. “It was that bad?”

“Yep.”

“Even my first day here wasn’t that bad!”

“You have no idea. Anyway, the second day went a bit better. I was on time and I could pretend I knew what I was doing. I still went for the grungiest corner in the cafeteria, though. All the new ponies scared me on a personal level, if not an occupational one. And then some pegasus stallion suddenly sat down across from me and asked if I was the ranger.”

“It… wasn’t Dad, was it?”

“No, it wasn’t him. I can’t even remember his name, honestly. But we talked a little, he introduced me to his friends once the day was out, and I slowly slid in when we went to the bar. By the time the weekend rolled around, I was invited over for poker night. Let me tell you, it went a long way to get me adjusted to San Hirzai. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed an increasingly maladjusted island. No matter what’s out there, everything seems less intimidating when you’ve got a friend at your side.”

“I… I guess.” Already, I could hear the interest slowly slipping out of Levanta’s voice. Maybe I’d come on too hard.

“So here’s my advice: try to talk to somepony,” I said. “Anypony. I know how it feels. If whatever city we move to has an animal control department, you can bet your tail they’re not doing it for the money.”

“W-well, no,” said Levanta, “b-but it’s diff-”

“And since they’re not doing it for the money,” I said loudly, “they’re really close-knit. And, yes, I feel like I don’t belong. Sometimes I end up belonging, sometimes I don’t. But I always try to get to know them, because if I don’t, I definitely won’t belong.”

Levanta and I looked each other in the eye. She had that expression of nervous trust, where someone’s urging you to take a leap of faith and, were it anypony else, you wouldn’t do it. But since it’s them, you just might. “You-” Levanta flicked an ear. “You make it sound so easy.”

“That’s the problem with the world, honey. Everything sounds so easy. Ponies say it’s as easy as falling off a log, but have you ever tried falling off a log?”

Levanta looked down at the floor again, chewing on her lip. “Well,” she mumbled, “there’s a mare who seemed nice in biology. Babbling Brook. She sits right next to me.”

“So talk with her. You can do that, right?”

Levanta nodded, first in a slow, “I guess so” sort of way, speeding up to a “yeah, definitely” one. “Right,” she said, mostly to herself. “Tomorrow.”

“And remember, Levvi,” I said, “if you need anything, I’m here for you.” I leaned over and gave her just what she needed: a hug.

“MOOOooom…” Levanta squirmed and twitched her wings. “I’m- I’m not six anymore…”

It was working. Parental cringeyness was distracting her from her glumness. Even I knew that never failed. I squeezed her a little more tightly before I released her. “Feeling better?”

Levanta rubbed a kink out of one of her feathers. “Yeah. Thanks.”

“Seriously. Tell me if you need help. I know-” I swallowed. “I know I’m not Dad. But I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks.” Levanta looked at me for a second, her wings twitching, before her gaze turned to one of the boxes around the room. She walked over to the one with her posters and began sifting through them.

“And remember,” I said as I got off the bed, “you can go out if you want, but no flying until you get a good idea of the layout of the town.” One of the most unenforceable rules I’d ever laid out, so it was really more of a suggestion. Short version: being an earth pony parent to a teenaged pegasus is really complicated.

“Yep. Uh-huh.” Somehow, I could tell her lack of response was now because she was engaged with something else, not because she just didn’t care about anything. For tonight, at least, she’d be alright, but I’d keep an eye on her.

I started heading downstairs, but as soon as I left her room, I remembered one more thing she needed to know. I turned back in. “Levanta?”

She was putting books on the corners of one of her Spider Sinew posters to flatten it out. She looked up from a tattooed singer with more mane than head. “Yeah?”

“One more thing. There’s a earth stallion around named Crooked River. He’s got orange eyes, a yellow coat, and a light blue mane. Stay away from him.”

Levanta nodded. She knew of those kinds of ponies from Fawkes. “Got it.”

“Good.”

I was halfway down the stairs when Levanta yelled, “Hey, Mom? Love you.”

My heart swelled as I called back, “Love you too.”
> 6 - Escalation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Making peace with Levanta gave me the best night’s sleep I’d had in weeks. I slept like a log until about fifteen minutes before my alarm and I was perfectly content to get up. Stubbing my hoof on a box of shovels did nothing but drive the last lingering remnants of sleep away. Even the mist-like drizzle couldn’t keep my spirits down; rather, I felt refreshed, like I’d just taken a shower. Today, I thought, I could take on the world, or at least find those predator dens.

Which meant it came as a greater shock to find Cascadia pacing back and forth in front of my office, breathing heavily and constantly glancing at the clock. She looked over when she heard my first footfall and was at my side so quickly I’d swear she teleported. She was talking before I could ask the obvious.

“We found another body.”





Even accounting for the thin path we were moving along, Cascadia trotted through the rainy forest with the sure-footedness that can only come from extensive travel in uneven terrain like this and lots of experience in picking out your hoof placement quickly. Heck, that sort of thing was one half of my job, and I had trouble keeping up with her.

“Mountain lion. Prismic Beam found it at seven this morning,” Cascadia said, brushing aside a fern. “She was heading out to a cottage for the day and taking this path-” Her next hoof landed slightly louder. “-like she always does. It’s got the same general injuries as the others, far as I can tell.”

“Any chance on the time of death?” I wasn’t holding my breath, but you never know.

“Maybe. Clearwater was headed there first and said she’d test it for rigor mortis. But Beam said a friend of hers had come back from the cottage last night at… eight, I think, also along this path, and hadn’t mentioned anything, so it’s unlikely to be more than eleven hours dead.”

A chance, at least. Trying to gauge the time of death of an animal in these situations was terrible.

The trip didn’t take much time, but my heart was pounding in my throat all the while. I finally had something concrete to work on, not just words on a page. There was always the possibility that whoever had written the reports had missed something important. They weren’t trained for this sort of thing.

When we got to the body, the mountain lion was lying on its side across the path; one leg was clearly broken and it already looked like some of its ribs had been crushed. Clearwater was standing by, watching another policepony — her name was Blue Canary, if I remembered correctly — attempt to manipulate the legs. Thanks to rigor mortis, they were awfully stiff. By the time we arrived, she’d given up. “It’s hard to tell,” she said to Clearwater, “but I’m guessing it’s been dead about nine, nine and a half hours. No less than eight.”

Clearwater nodded. “Good. That’s what I thought.”

“Step aside,” Cascadia said gruffly. “Ranger coming through.” She waved me forward and put up a shield to serve as a makeshift umbrella.

I crouched next to the body and started taking it in. Fortunately, even the near-constant rain couldn’t wash away wounds. It was the same as the others: lots of blunt force trauma and some broken limbs. I pulled up one of the mountain lion’s lips and cringed; a lot of its teeth had been knocked out. A little bit of searching found the obligatory bite wound: inside one of the thighs, near the femoral artery. I moved the limbs, or tried to; Clearwater and Blue Canary were right, rigor mortis was setting in. Canary’s guess of about nine hours more or less matched up with mine (I went for closer to ten).

“Notice anything strange?” Cascadia asked after a minute or so.

“Hush,” I said, waving a hoof at her. “Working.”

But although, in pure facts, it wasn’t that different from what I’d read, something felt… off. I was missing something, I knew it. And I wouldn’t pick up on that “something” unless it was important. I prodded the body, squirmed around to look at the head, examined the ears. The offness kept nagging at me, and I wasn’t-

I looked inside the ears again. They were both the same pale color. That was it. “I need a knife,” I said, holding out a hoof. “A sharp one. Something to shave the fur.”

Somepony, I didn’t know who, quickly had a razor strapped around my fetlock. I lifted up the lion’s body and began shaving it near the bottom, working my way up. Nopony said anything, but I imagined them looking quizzically at each other. I soon had a large patch of skin exposed on the bottom, very pale beneath the fur. I bit my lip and shaved upwards. Still that pale, uniform pink. Stranger and stranger. “So it was found like this?” I asked. “It hasn’t been moved since?”

“Right,” said Cascadia.

“And you two.” I pointed at Clearwater and Blue Canary. “You’re pretty sure the time of death was between eight and eleven hours ago?”

The two of them looked at each other. Blue Canary nodded and Clearwater said, “Yes. Almost certain.”

“So how come I’m not seeing any livor mortis?”

Cascadia was at my side in an instant, staring at the exposed skin. “Son of a bitch,” she muttered, “you’re right.”

When something dies, the heart obviously stops beating and the muscles surrounding blood vessels relax. With nothing pumping it, blood begins to settle in the lowest parts of the body and leak out of the vessels, bruising the skin. This condition is known as livor mortis, or lividity. Gradually, the blood coagulates, staying in place even if the body is moved. Lividity is generally most visible starting six hours after death.

The skin of the mountain lion was pale all around. It should’ve been prime time to see livor mortis, and yet there wasn’t a single sign of it.

“So,” I mumbled unconvincingly to myself, “either something spent the last few hours moving the body around to keep the blood from settling, or there isn’t enough blood to be seen through the skin.”

“‘Not enough blood’?” said Cascadia incredulously, mirroring my own thoughts. “But that would require the body to be almost completely exsanguinated!”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

“You’re the ranger! You’re the one who’s supposed to know-”

“Whoa, hey!” Clearwater stepped between us. “Break it up, you two! This isn’t a pissing contest!”

Cascadia opened her mouth, snapped it shut, folded her ears, and cringed away. “Sorry,” she mumbled, maybe-maybe-not honestly. “Frustrated.” She rumpled her mane and pawed at the ground.

“Uh, guys?” asked Blue Canary.

“Apology accepted,” I said, ignoring Canary, “but just because I’m-”

“Guys?”

“-the expert doesn’t-”

“Easy, Swan,” cautioned Clearwater.

“Guys?”

“-mean I automa-”

“HEY!”

We all broke out of our bubbles; Blue Canary was on the ground again, examining the broken skin on the mountain lion. She pointed at the wound. “That seems a little clean, don’t you think?”

And once I’d taken a second look, I couldn’t believe I’d missed it. The fur around the wound was matted with dried blood, true. But for an arterial wound, it was almost hideously clean. The cougar’s entire leg should’ve been soaked with blood. I’d never run the numbers, but I estimated that a mountain lion’s femoral artery pumped about fifty gallons of blood a minute. Where was all that blood?

The blood was being taken or drunk or… something. That was the only-

“What do you think?” Cascadia asked. It didn’t sound directed at anypony.

“I don’t know,” said Blue Canary, “but now that I think about it, I don’t think the other bodies were bloody, either. Maybe.”

That was the only op-

“Are you sure you’re not making iktus up?” asked Clearwater.

“No.”

“No, she’s right,” said Cascadia. “There definitely wasn’t that much blood.”

I bit my tongue. Something harvesting the blood w-

“I remember wondering why the wound on the first animal was so clean,” continued Cascadia. “And after that, it slipped into the background.”

“Huh,” said Clearwater. “So i-”

I put on the best Boss Voice I could muster. “Can you guys quiet down for a second? I need to think.”

Everypony else promptly shut up, and I started pacing, taking in the near-silence of the forest. Honestly, there wasn’t much new here. In fact, it just raised further questions. Why take only blood? Was it needed for some form of magic? But the wound was messy, not nice and neat. And why the broken limbs? If the blood was required for something, maybe there was a requirement in taking it, something invol-

I stopped, my neck stiff and my ears pivoting. The only thing I could hear was the wind blowing through the trees.

“So…” Cascadia coughed exaggeratedly. “Did you-”

“Where’re the birds?”

The ears of everypony else stood straight up. They started looking around as birdsong failed to reach their ears; I don’t know if they noticed, but Cascadia and Blue Canary took a few steps towards each other. They knew as well as I did how completely unnatural a silent forest is.

“We should get the body out of here,” said Blue Canary, a little quietly.

“Right,” said Cascadia. “You head back to the station; Boysenberry might need some help. I’ll get a cart.” Canary took off and Cascadia looked sideways at me. “Do you need to look at it any more?”

“No,” I said. “But I’m not going back into town. I need to-”

“Hunt for predator dens?” asked Cascadia. “Clearwater mentioned it. That’s fine.”

“And we have a map of some old ones,” Clearwater added. “It’s about ten years out of date, but I thought it’d help.” She fished said map out of her saddlebags and spread it on the ground in front of me. I vaguely recognized it as the area of northwest of Delta, marked with several big red circles and X’s. “We’re here,” she said, pointing.

“A few miles north-northeast,” I thought aloud, looking at the closest mark. Unfortunately, what kind of animal it was hadn’t been marked. “Great. Thanks. Still up for hunting?”

“Of course,” Clearwater said with a grin.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” said Cascadia. She trotted off down the path.

We oriented ourselves with a compass and set off into the forest. After a minute or so, I glanced at Clearwater. I couldn’t see any sign that she was on anything less than her A game. She was moving across the uneven terrain with a confident hoof. “No hangover?” I asked.

“Hmm? Oh, from the 190 drink, yeah?” Clearwater laughed. “Oh, there’s a hangover, all right. I just had it already yesterday evening. Lots of alcohol in a small space, lots of hangover in a small space.”

“Yeowch.”

“Times about a thousand.”

“So… why?”

“Machismo, I think. I was the youngest foal in my family and had four older brothers. Maybe they wore off on me.” Clearwater held out a wing and traced a thin scar along it. “I do have these stallionly scars, but I am a policemare…”

“You could’ve become a policemare because they rubbed off on you,” I suggested.

Clearwater just shrugged.

“Me, I became a ranger just because I wanted to,” I rambled. With the current line of conversation, it seemed relevant. “I’d always been an outdoorsy kid, got an outdoorsy cutie mark, loved my outdoorsy classes in school, so I shipped myself off for a bachelor’s in earthcrafting the second I got the chance. Never regretted it since.” Even with my first transfer, I’d never regretted my career; I just regretted not being able to weasel out of the transfer.

“So if you’re so outdoorsy, how’d you get a name like ‘Swan Dive’?”

“Mom said Dad was on a seapony kick at the time for some reason and wanted a water-based name. When Dad got into something, he got into it.”

“That’s what she said.”

I clapped a hoof to my mouth. “That’s terrible. And wonderful.”





Getting to the general area of the den didn’t take too long, especially since we kept the conversation going. It also wasn’t too hard to find the den itself, in spite of the vagueness of the map. There was a large cleft at the bottom of a small cliff, perfect for something to wiggle into and hide from the rain.

“Wolf den,” I muttered to myself. I jumped from leg to leg as I psyched myself up. They shouldn’t attack me, not as long as I didn’t jump on them, but I was walking into a wolf den. Stupidity and desperation were close bedfellows.

“What makes you th- How do you know it’s a wolf den?” asked Clearwater.

“Pawprints, for one.” I pointed at a dry patch of dirt, where the outlines of wolves’ prints were barely visible and overlapping each other. “And the fissure’s facing south. Gray wolf dens almost always face to the south. The entrances get more sun that way, which keeps them clear of snow in the winter.” I pulled out a light gem necklace from my saddlebags and rattled it to light it up. I’d’ve much preferred a lantern, but this was sufficient.

“Wow. Never knew that,” said Clearwater. She glanced at the sun, just above the horizon, and I could see the compass needle spinning in her head.

“Could you do me a favor and stay outside?” I asked as I peered into the cave. “No offense, but you’re not trained for fighting or communicating with wolves.”

“Yeah, sure.” Clearwater stepped back and clamped her wings tightly to her sides.

“Thanks. Shouldn’t be too long.” I rattled the light gem again — I don’t know why I do that — and crept into the den. Thankfully, this one was being used. The tracks were even clearer inside and I could smell the smell of a lot of wolves passing by. The ceiling was lower and I had to duck to keep my mane from getting snagged on rock formations. I didn’t bother trying to hide my hoofsteps. If I did, the wolves might think I was trying to sneak up on them, and… well.

About fifty feet inside, the cave widened into something a bit more spacious. A large pile of fur was curled up in the middle: a family of wolves. Parents and… seven cubs, it looked like. Two from last year’s litter. I told myself that this ought to be good, but I couldn’t ignore the bones scattered around the space.

I cleared my throat. “Um, hello? Mr. Alpha?” I didn’t go so far as to go forward and try to poke the wolves awake; I’m not that good/stupid yet.

Some angry, mumbled chuffing. You didn’t need to be a ranger to interpret that.

“Look, I need to talk to you. This is important. Mr. Alpha? Mrs. Alpha?”

More chuffing. A female lifted her head, glared at me, and yawned. She plodded over to me.

“Thanks. Sorry to wake you up — don’t look at me like that, I am! — but I need to ask you a few questions.” I slapped a few bits of dirt out of my mane. “And can we do it outside? My neck’s getting sore.”

Clearwater gaped when I emerged from the den with a placid wolf in tow, but didn’t say anything. I sat down right outside the den and turned to the wolf. She kept staring at me and growling. Not in aggression, simple displeasure, the same way ponies snap at you if you wake them up too early. So, to show her who was boss, I walked up and stuffed her muzzle into my mouth.

Clearwater yelped and the wolf froze. After a moment, the latter pulled her muzzle out and stared in confusion. Dominance displays like that normally didn’t come from ponies.

“Yeah,” I said. “I can talk the talk.” I held my breath, hoping that she wouldn’t try to make me walk the walk. Muzzle grabbing wasn’t a major act of dominance, but if she decided to challenge it… “Look, I promise I’ll go away if you answer some of my questions, okay?”

A resigned huff. Basically, «If insisted. Cat.» At least, I hoped that was what it meant. My Gray Wolf was really rusty. Still, “cat” was a common wolf epithet for… let’s say “unpleasant person”, so I must’ve been doing alright.

“So. You know how something’s been killing animals around here for the past few months?”

Angry barks and growls. «Stupid cats dead! Good for wolves! DESERVED it!»

“Well, maybe they did-” -they didn’t- “-but wolves also died! Don’t you want to keep your cubs safe?”

The wolf looked over her shoulder into the den. She folded her ears back and whimpered quietly. To me, she gave a complex series of barks, growls, and other doggy noises. «Wolves bears cats dying for summers. Why care now?»

I stopped myself from responding immediately and saying something stupid. Summers? That meant “years”. That couldn’t be right. I must’ve misheard. But when I tried to go through similar-sounding vocalizations and similar-looking behavior, none of the words I found fit the context. I breathed slowly and picked my next words carefully, to avoid being condescending. I hoped. “Summers? But we’ve only been finding the bodies for moons.”

Whimper, pawing at the ground, soft yips. «Only found bodies for moons.»

…Oh, no. What if this wasn’t the start of it? What if this was just when Delta started finding the bodies?

Two barks, and the wolf set off at a slow run. «Follow.»

“She wants us to follow her,” I said to Clearwater. I ran after the wolf, shoving through the undergrowth that the wolf casually slipped around.

The sound of snapping twigs behind me told me that Clearwater was following not too far behind. “You understood all that?” she asked.

“I… think so, yeah. My Animal’s not too great.”

“And you bit a wolf on the face. …Skookum.”

I decided to take that as a compliment. “You just need to know how to speak their language. It’s a gentle dominance behavior. She kept trying to give me crap for waking her up, and I was saying that I wasn’t going to take her crap.”

“Yeah, but… Wolf. Face.”

I grunted vaguely. “She says animals have been dying out here for years. Do you know anything about that?”

“What- years? No, I… I don’t think I heard anything about that. Hmm.”

“Has the population of any animal seemed a bit low?”

“I don’t know. I don’t… think so…”

I restrained my groan, mainly because I didn’t want Clearwater to think my frustration was directed at her. I swear, it was like the universe kept throwing me curveballs even though I’d already been beaned.

I can’t remember how long it took for us to reach our destination. An hour or two. About halfway through, Clearwater had stopped galloping and started gliding. I didn’t say anything; she was good at flying, I was good at enduring. Eventually, the wolf bounded to a slow walk and came to a halt ahead of us. She whimpered and barked at a thin ravine. «Down there. Bad place.»

I took a look. From the edge, the ravine looked more like a ditch; no more than fifteen feet deep and with ragged, rocky sides that’d be easy to climb, even rain-slicked. A trickle of water was running through the mud at the bottom, but I couldn’t see anything else besides a skinny cave entrance. “I’m going down there,” I said. “You two play nice.”

Clearwater and the wolf looked at me, then at each other. They each took a step back as I clambered over the edge.

The runoff was cold and went straight to my bones, but I paid it no mind. I re-ignited my light gem and shone it over the entrance. Unfortunately, thanks to the temporary stream, all traces of use had been washed away. Maybe that was why this particular location had been chosen. I shone the light into the cave. Just a few yards down, the passage turned out sight. I couldn’t hear anything but a slight buzzing that might’ve been in my head. Swallowing, I wiggled into the rift.

At first, the walls were the expected jagged rock, poking into me on both sides, but the moment I turned the corner, they flattened out, almost like the passage had been carved. The smooth walls did nothing to soothe my nerves. I slid along, acutely aware that the buzzing wasn’t just me, and was slowly building. I took a breath and caught a whiff of the unmistakable stench of rotten meat.

The second stretch was longer than the first, with another jink at the end. I rattled my light gem again, even though it was shining as brightly as it could. The smell grew stronger. Much stronger. I almost pulled my jacket over my muzzle for a makeshift filter. The tunnel slowly broadened. The buzzing kept redoubling over and over. When I rounded the final corner, I nearly gasped in shock.

A giant cavern, shaped vaguely like a giant bowl, filled with bones. Thousands of them. All of them big, all of them from predators, all of them unbroken. There must’ve been the bodies of over a hundred animals. Swarms of flies wheeled around through the air, picking bloodless flesh from the remains that still had meat. The smell… holy Celestia, it drilled straight to my brain like nothing I’d ever experienced before. I slammed my hoof to my nose and almost vomited right there.

The wolf was right. This had been going on for years.

My insides were still writhing when I exited the charnel house and climbed out of the gully. I took several long, deep breaths to purge the stench from my system. It barely helped. My knees kept knocking together. Still, I waved off Clearwater. “I’m okay,” I gasped. One final inhale, and I stood up straight. “I just had a bit of a shock.”

“What’s down there?” Clearwater asked nervously. She edged over to the ravine, then edged back without looking down.

“The trash heap of a sunblasted slaughterhouse. The bodies of dozens of dead animals.” To the wolf, I said, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

The wolf growled softly. In this case, she didn’t like being right.

“You wouldn’t happen to know what’s doing this, would you?”

«Cold ones. Vile ones. Smell… wrong.»

Animals. So valuable, yet so infuriating. They were like six-year-old foals or mathematicians, giving you the answer to your questions and absolutely nothing more. “Who are the ‘cold ones’?”

The wolf bared her teeth. «Ponies.»
> 7 - Fallout
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So… you heard this from a wolf,” said Cascadia skeptically.

“Ma’am,” I protested, “as a ranger, I-”

“You don’t need to ‘ma’am’ me,” she said testily.

“Ma’am,” I enunciated. “I’m a ranger. I’m trained to communicate with wild animals if I need to.”

“And you believed it?”

“She took me to a cave where the killer dumped most of the bodies. Clearwater saw it, she’ll back me up.”

“And it said ponies were responsible?”

“Well, she- She- She thought it was something that looked like a pony. She didn’t pay attention to the colors because smell is more important to her, and wolves are colorblind anyway.”

“But it thought a pony was the killer?”

“And she said the smell it left behind wasn’t exactly a pony’s. It was something… wrong. So, yes, she thought a pony was the killer, but I think she’s wrong.”

“So what do you think it was?”

“I don’t know!” I yelled, slamming my hooves on Cascadia’s desk. “Nothing about this makes sense! Something out there’s killing predators — and only predators — and taking their blood, but I don’t know why. And yet it doesn’t take their blood without beating the shit out of them. Except for when it decides to hide the body in that cave. I. Don’t. Know. What’s going on. I’ve been at this for less than a week, so please cut me some sunblasted slack.”

“Slack?” whispered Cascadia. “I thought this was your job. The reason you’re here in the first place. You ought to be better than us at monster hunting. You’ve given us nothing we didn’t know already, a-”

“I’m not omniscient! I’m still a pony! There are- Forget it.” I stood up. “You’ll have my report on your desk before you leave tonight.” I was out the door before she could respond.

Clearwater was standing outside the door, nervously jumping from her left hooves to her right. She swallowed. “Well, ah… At least she wasn’t yelling.”

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Great.” I tried and failed to keep my steps from being stompy.

Sure. Like she knew. I know a bit more about animals than the average jack, and suddenly I’m supposed to know everything that could possibly be going on with animals in this distant corner of Equestria. And yet, when I get information from an animal, using the knowledge I’m supposed to have, suddenly that information is unreliable. What did she know?

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“Do, uh, do you… need my help… with anything?” asked Clearwater. “ ’Cause you’re… kinda-”

“No, thanks.” I sighed. “I need to write a report about this, and I don’t think you can help me with that.”

“Ah. Alright. Well, I’m… open if you need somepony to talk to.” Clearwater hesitantly nodded and headed to her office.

I could’ve dealt with the murdered animals, maybe, if it was just them. But with Cascadia on my case about it too, I was dangerously close to punching holes in the walls. To think I was relieved she’d let me investigate freely just a few days ago when she didn’t know what in Tartarus she was talking about. Animals just didn’t behave like this. This was more like some big-city serial killer case, not nature going a little out of whack. Or a lot out of whack.

Glaring at the linoleum, I made my way office. The work day still had a few hours left in it, and I needed to write a detailed report on my findings for Cascadia.

Actually, no. I didn’t need to write a report just yet. I needed a sunblasted chocolate bar.

Four minutes and one vending machine visit later, I was in the cafeteria, wolfing down my second Horshey bar, intently studying the whorls in the surface of the table, trying to calm my nerves. It was… half-working. I was still angry, but it was less and less directed at Cascadia. In fact, I was beginning to understand that-

Suddenly, Homeguard sat down right in front of me. “You are not the source of her anger,” he said.

I grunted. Part of me already knew that, but part of me wanted to direct my anger at the investigation towards her. For the same reason she was directing her anger at the investigation towards me: the other was available.

“She is frustrated at the lack of progress,” continued Homeguard, “and she is-”

I swallowed the chocolate in my mouth. “Taking it out on me,” I muttered, “because yelling at an abstract concept just makes things worse.”

“…Ehm. Yes.”

“I know. I can tell how ponies are feeling, thank you.”

“Do I look like a mind reader?” he asked.

“It’s not that hard to guess that a pony’s angry if her ears are back and she’s constantly speaking in tense whispers.” I rubbed my head. “Look. I know that she’s not really angry at me. That she just thinks that-”

“Well, th-that makes you more mature than most ponies. You would be shocked at the amount of ponies who persist in holding grudges that were their fault to begin with and refuse to look at another’s perspective.”

I looked Homeguard in the eyes. They seemed a little bit darker than usual, but that was probably just me. I swallowed the bit of chocolate I was chewing on. “You can tell which ponies are holding grudges, yet you can’t tell when I’m not?”

Somehow, that little question (more a snipe than a question, if I was being honest with myself) flustered Homeguard like nothing else. “I- I do not know you well as of yet,” he said. “You have been living in Delta less than a week, far less than anypony else here. Everypony else, I am well acquainted with. You, I am not.”

I didn’t dwell on it too much. Homeguard’s social skills weren’t something I needed to concern myself with. “I guess.” I slid the unopened bar towards him. “Chocolate?”

“No thanks,” he said, pushing it back. “I am not fond of milk chocolate.”

I shrugged. “Your loss.” I opened the bar and took a large bite. Through a combination of chocolatey goodness and some actual conversation, the rate at which my temper was dying increased. I worried less about Cascadia and more about things that needed to be worried about. “So,” I mumbled to myself, “what kind of monster has a cyclical hunting pattern with a frequency of about two weeks?” Not much. The same kind of not much that was constantly getting thrown at me.

“What makes you so sure it is a monster? They are not the only things capable of this slaughter.”

…Huh. I couldn’t believe we’d never considered that angle before. I thought back to the letter I’d received first telling me that I was going to Delta. I recalled it well enough to know that the perpetrator being a monster was just sort of assumed, and I’d never questioned it. Because, well, why shouldn’t it be a monster? It was only against animals, always out in the woods. I’d worked on similar cases before that had always resulted in a monster being responsible. But why there was nothing saying it had to be a monster yet. “…I’ll keep that in mind. What made you think of that?”

Homeguard blinked twice. “It- I-”

A firepony stuck her head into the cafeteria. “Hey. Homeguard. We need to clean out the hoses on Engine 4, remember? Please don’t make me do it by myself.”

“Apologies,” Homeguard said as he stood up, “but I must be going.” And then I was alone in the cafeteria. Honestly, what was with him? I polished off my chocolate.

As I wrote the report, I slipped into the same double mind as I did when walking while bored. So there was a possibility that a pony was responsible. I’d discounted it earlier because of the strange arterial wound, but for now, I laid that aside. So, if a pony was doing it (and that was still a pretty big “if”), what would they want the blood for? I didn’t really want to know what kind of pony I was that my mind jumped pretty quickly to “blood magic”.

Blood magic is one of the more infamous areas of magic, mainly because of the whole “blood” part. Its reputation is very unfair — its effectiveness in fighting bloodborne diseases is unparalleled, just to begin — but not entirely undeserved; it can provide great power at the cost of great quantities of blood, which usually turns out to be somepony else’s. I didn’t know whether or not animal blood also worked, but if it did-

I dotted the last period on my report and looked it over. Seemed good. And now, the hard part: taking it to Cascadia. I didn’t want to spend any more time with her than I had to. I rolled the scroll up and grabbed it with my teeth. I opened my door. I walked down the hall. I knocked on Cascadia’s door. I waited for her to say, “Come in.” I entered. I was about to say something, but Cascadia telekinetically plucked the scroll from my mouth before I could. She was looking right at me, almost… wearily? “Take a seat, Swan,” she said. She sounded tired, somehow.

I sat down in front of her, trying to stay neutral. “You have my report, obviously.” I gestured at the scroll.

“Yeah.” Cascadia tapped her hoof on the desk a few times. “Swan Dive,” she said eventually, “I’m better than today. Delta’s my town, and I hate seeing it in trouble when I can’t do anything about it.” Deep breath in, deep breath out. “I’m sorry for expecting too much of you. This has been going on for so long and I… just hoped… If, if I ever go over the line like that again, please: don’t hesitate to call me out on it.”

There’s a little gremlin inside everybody, one that never wants to forgive anybody under any circumstances. They hurt us! it screams in a whiny yet strangely appealing voice. They don’t deserve forgiveness! And, I’ll admit, it was pretty loud right then, that soon after she’d yelled at- after we’d yelled at each other. I was still stewing, and who did she think she was, simply asking for an apology like that?

A better mare than me, probably. I was already frustrated after dealing with this for less than a week. She’d been dealing with it for months. She had far more of a right to be stressed out about this than I did. And yet we’d both blown up with the same intensity. But in spite of that, she was the one accepting responsibility. She’d decided to lower herself to make peace. She wasn’t even attaching any conditions to it: You have to admit, it was kinda your fault too, right?

Deep breath. I looked her in the eye and said, “Apology accepted. And- And I’m sorry for-”

Cascadia lifted a hoof for silence. “Apology accepted. I know how it is.” She grinned crookedly. “But let’s try to stay civil in the future, m’kay?”

After a second, I nodded. “M’kay.”

“Great. That’s all. Again, I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen anything like this before, and… yeah.”

I wasn’t sure whether or not to say I hadn’t either. Let the laypony know the specialist was utterly clueless, or lie to give her hope? I skated around that patch of thin ice. “Speaking of which, Homeguard said something about me not being sure it’s a monster in the first place, so… I thought: what if it’s a pony using animals for blood magic? I’m not trying to wiggle out of this,” I added quickly, “I just want to be open to other options.”

Cascadia flattened her ears and looked up. She tapped her hoof on the desk. “It’s a long shot,” she said eventually. “But long shots are really all we have now. The wolves said the killer smelled bad. Can wolves smell magic?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. Has anypony suspicious been hanging around Delta since the deaths started?”

“Not that I can remember. The last time somepony came to Delta and stuck around at all was Crooked River, and he was still months before we found the first body. He’s kinda misosophontic, though. Garnered a few harassment complaints the first few weeks, but then he settled for looking sullen on the sidelines.”

Crooked River. Somehow, that didn’t surprise me much. I briefly toyed with the idea of telling Cascadia about his recent harassment, but (in what was probably a stupid move) decided to just let it go; it’d only cloud her perception of him. Of course, the evidence for him draining animals’ blood was so incredibly circumstantial it barely qualified as evidence. “Hmm. Did Speckle show up about then, too?”

“Who?”

“Y-you know, Speckle. His, his girlfriend or partner or whatever?”

“I’ve never heard of anypony named Speckle and I’ve never seen River with anypony.”

“Oh.” Weird. “Well, um… really red eyes, wavy orange mane, pale green coat.”

Cascadia cocked her head and looked back at the ceiling. Again, she tapped her hoof a few times. “…Nope, never seen anypony like that. I’ll let you know if I see her, though.”

“Great,” I said, standing up. “Thanks.”

Outside Cascadia’s office, I glanced at the nearest clock. Still an hour before I was supposed to be done. Dangit. I was tempted to say “screw it, it’s been a tough week” and just go home, but I felt the need to work for that last hour, to do something. I managed to waste time reviewing the area’s wildlife, monstrous and natural alike. It was a decent refresher, but I already knew most of it. When quitting time finally came, I was packed almost immediately. I was almost running when I exited the police station and entered the drizzle that was the current wea-

“Hey! Hey, Swan!”

Clearwater came galloping out of the station and slid to a stop in front of me in a wave of mud. “Tomorrow’s Saturday,” she panted, “and my husband and I were going to get together with some friends after the evening church service for a game night and drinks. Do you want to join?”

That was a bit sudden. Welcome, granted, but where was it coming from? “Maybe,” I said vaguely. “Why do you ask?”

“The murders are putting you under a lot of stress and you’re going to burn out,” said Clearwater. “I can see it already. Heck, I’ve done it at times myself. You’re so attached to this case that you’re not going to rest until you solved it, and you see where I’m going with this? You need a break.”

“But I’ve only been working on it for three days!”

“That doesn’t matter,” Clearwater said, waving a hoof dismissively. “You can still burn out quickly if you’re stressed enough. I mean, I haven’t seen you around town outside of work since you arrived here. Have you gotten out at all?”

“No,” I said. I rubbed the back of my neck self-consciously. “I’ve… had a lot to do…”

“So take a break,” said Clearwater. “Just for one night, okay? You don’t even need to come with us. Just relax. You need it.”

I mulled it over for a short moment. “What kind of games?”

“What do you want? Poker’s common. One night we had a Cloud Nine tournament. Charades. Bring your own ideas. Nothing’s really set.”

“…The drinks aren’t 190 proof, are they?”

“Oh, noooooo,” Clearwater said with a laugh. “I’m not masochistic when company’s around. …Well, I guess if you wanted a drink that strong, you could have it, but-”

“Sure, I’ll come,” I said. “After church?”

“After church. We’ll meet at my house; here’s my address.” Clearwater dug a scrap of paper from a pocket and handed it to me.

“Thanks. See you then.”





The windows were dark when I arrived home, and my coat started standing on end. Levanta was usually hanging around the house right now. I knew it might be nothing — maybe she’d found a friend today? — but my throat was dry as I unlocked the door. As I rattled the entryway fireflies into wakefulness, I listened for any sound of movement. Absolute silence. I decided to break it. “Levanta? I’m home!”

No answer.

“Levanta? …Levaaantaaa!”

Just my voice echoing back. My heart instinctively kicked up a notch before I forced it back down. She could just be at a new friend’s house, right? She knew to leave a note on the table. I checked there. The note I found was scribbled in the uniquely horrific penmareship of Levanta in a hurry.



At friend’s house. Back by 9. Have dinner there.



I frowned at myself. Maybe I should’ve set a curfew. 9:00 was a reasonable time; the note just jogged my memory. I decided I’d put it off for a while if Levanta actually got back by nine. Checking out like this without checking in with me was a mild no-no, but I was willing to let it slide a few times if Levanta wasn’t so down. If she kept it up, though…

Well, I’d get to that later. I collapsed on the sofa with a book I was working my way through.

It was 8:47 when the door banged open and Levanta yelled, “Hi, Mom!” from the front hall. “Did you see the note?”

I flipped my book closed. “Yeah!”

Still dripping wet from the rain, Levanta bounded into the living room with little half-flaps. She was grinning; good sign. “Today was great!” she said. “We were in biology and the teacher asked us where timberwolves came from and nopony else knew!” She giggled. “And then Babbling Brook started talking to me which was great because that meant I didn’t have to talk to her first and that was half the hardness right there and we met during lunch break and we talked and we have a lot in common and she invited me over to her house-” She took a deep breath. “-if I was willing to help her with clearing a drainage ditch and I was like ‘Sure!’ and it went real fast with the two of us so we had a lot of time for other stuff and I think I wanna be an artist and I’m thinking about go-”

“An artist?” I asked. “Pen-and-paper visual artist?” She’d never expressed any interest in that before, but maybe all she needed was some stimulation.

“Pencil-and-paper to start,” said Levanta, “but, Mom, Brook does sketches and her stuff’s really good, I mean whoa, and she said she was gonna help me with drawing if I said I wanted to, and I was all, ‘Sure!’, so she lent me some of her older stuff. Like-” She bounded out of the room and bounded back. “-this-” She held up something that looked like a anklet with a tiny ring attached to it. “-is something you put a pencil in and attach to your hooves for when you’re still learning the right ways to move a pencil while holding it in your teeth and need a little bit of extra dexterity that you don’t have just yet and-” Out, back. “-this neat gem is a color eraser, for when you just want to remove one color, and-”

“And her parents were okay with you staying for dinner?”

“-this is a color blender so you c- Oh, yeah. Sure, they’re real friendly and- Do you know a cop named Clearwater?”

I twitched. “Yeah. Why?”

“She’s Brook’s mom and says she works with you. Anyway, I’d helped dig the drainage ditch, so, yeah, they were really chill about me staying.”

Talk about a coincidence. Maybe to be expected in a town as small as this, but I was still surprised. I wondered if Brook had told Clearwater anything about Levanta.

“Oh, and random segue, but just so you know, the shed out back’s total shite.”

“Levanta! Language!”

Levanta rolled her eyes. “I borrowed a shovel to help Brook with the ditch, and part of the shed wall’s like rotting away. I mean, I could punch a hole right through it.”

Why hadn’t I taken the gardening implements out yet? Heck, I hadn’t even been out back at all. “I’ll get to it later. Do you have any more of those art tools?” I’d never been the artistic type, but just seeing the tools sounded interesting.

Levanta’s face lit up. It’d been too long since I’d seen her really smile. “Oh, yeah, they’re so weird, but so cool! Like, hang on-” And she was away and back again. This time, she was carrying a small bag. She rummaged around in it for a moment and pulled out something that looked like a wheel. “Like, this is called a spirograph, and they’re foals’ toys, but Mom, it just looks so dang cool. Here, lemme get a pencil so I can show you…”
> 8 - A Night Out
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I woke up in bed Saturday morning with one thought running through my head: I have nothing to do today.

I’m a bit of a workaholic. I’d rather work for eight hours than sit around doing nothing for eight hours. In some circumstances, work is my play. (The fact that I really enjoyed my job — most of the time — didn’t hurt.) So to suddenly have a massive job offloaded for a day or two was so overwhelming I practically felt more tired, even though I’d slept well. I tried sleeping in and fell asleep again eventually. For an half an hour. I knew sleeping in was going to be pointless when I was restless, glanced at the clock, and it was still 6:47.

I rolled off the bed onto the floor, curled into a ball, and uncurled as much as I could. I convinced myself I couldn’t hear my joints popping. I blinked the sleep out of my eyes and stared out the window into the back yard. Nothing really registered at first, until I remembered that Levanta had said that the shed was falling apart. I’d need to look into it.

The weather forecast had said mist was scheduled for today, but I’d never pictured it this thick. In Fawkes, “mist” was usually a light, thin cloud at ground level that vaguely interfered with visibility. The “mist” in the backyard wasn’t anything like that. This was a good, proper fog, the kind that actually hid things beyond two hundred feet, the kind you could feel as droplets condensed on your coat, the kind that muffled sound. I shivered a little as I walked through the backyard (although that was less because it actually cold, and more because I was used to the milder weather of Fawkes).

I didn’t need to take a close look at the shed to know that Levanta was right. A large part of the first wall I saw was on the verge of falling apart, dark brown and rotting. I lightly poked at it; a small chunk of wood dropped off and a millipede skittered away. Yeah, that needed to be replaced, stat. A good, large panel and a nailgun ought to be enough. Too bad I had neither. The panel wouldn’t be hard — Delta was a lumber town, after all — but I didn’t use a nailgun often enough to justify buying one. Maybe Clearwater had one I could borrow. I checked the other walls. They weren’t perfect, but luckily, they weren’t nearly as bad as the first.

Then I took a look at the door. Levanta had said she’d gone to the shed to get a shovel and hadn’t said anything about the shovels not being there. I couldn’t remember taking them out. She said she hadn’t. With a deep breath, I opened the door to the shed. All of our yard work stuff was in there. I double-checked everything: fertilizer, trowels, shovels, watering cans, etc. It was all there, or at least everything I’d remembered packing. I didn’t think I’d taken anything out to the shed yet, but maybe I’d just forgotten abo-

No. I definitely hadn’t forgotten. Yesterday morning, I’d stubbed my toe on a box of yard stuff. Nothing had been taken out. And… Levanta had said she’d taken a shovel from the shed when she got home from school. Had the door been locked when I’d come home? Yes, it had.

Dread took a hold of me. Somepony had broken into my house and moved those boxes, almost as if to prove that they could get at me whenever they wanted. I turned to leave the shed, then stopped. There was a note taped to the inside of the door.



You’re welcome.

— River



I almost fainted. What was with this guy? Why me? He didn’t know a damn thing about me. Did he just go eenie-meenie-miney-moe and pick somepony to torment? Did he get off on showing me how easily he could get to me?

Whatever the case, I needed to do two things: tell the police I had a stalker. And tell Levanta about this.





Levanta’s mane was a disheveled, labyrinthine mess of bedhead as she chowed down on her cereal. She seemed fine. I hated to spring this on her when she was just waking up, but better sooner than later. I sat down opposite her. “Levanta, I’ve… I’ve got something I need to tell you.”

She swallowed her cereal and looked at me anxiously. “Yeah?…”

Deep breath. “I’m sorry for dropping this on you now, but… remember how I told you about staying away from Crooked River?”

“Yeah. Why?”

I had no clue where to go. Not even Thunderhead had ever needed to deal with something like this. As such, I went for frank. It was probably a bad choice, but she needed to know. “I- I’m pretty sure he’s stalking me. He’s- I’ve seen him in suspicious places and I think he might’ve broken into our house yesterday.”

Levanta’s expression didn’t change at first, but I think it was because she just didn’t know how to react. “Wh-what?” She looked down a little and blinked. Her eyes were wide when she looked back up. “M-Mom, I-”

“So listen,” I said. “If the doorbell rings, don’t open the door without checking it first. Don’t go near him. If he tries walking up to you, fly away. Come home or go to the police station or- You can go to Brook’s house, she’s the daughter of a cop. And unless you’re flying, don’t go around town alone. I don’t think he wants anything to do with you, but I don’t want to risk it.”

As I spoke, Levanta’s blankness gave way to shock to a kind of grim acceptance. She nodded. “Yeah,” she said flatly. “Okay.” She sighed. “Shouldn’t moving away from Fawkes mean we don’t see this anymore?”

“Well, that’s the way it is,” I said. “Levanta, please. Stay safe.”

Levanta looked at me, opened her mouth, then walked around the table and hugged me. “You stay safe, Mom,” she whispered. “I- I don’t…”

“Don’t worry,” I said, hugging her back. “I’ll be fine. It’ll be okay.” It was all I knew to say.





The sun was setting when I poked my head into my daughter’s room. “Levanta?”

“Yeah?” She didn’t look up from her spirograph. In spite of its simplicity, she was quite taken with it. And to be fair, the designs it produced were incredibly intricate.

“There’s an evening church service in about half an hour. Are you coming?”

“Nah. Next week.”

“Alright. I’ll be spending the rest of the night out, but I’ll be back by tomorrow morning. Remember to lo-”

“Lock up, check who’s ringing the doorbell, and get to bed at a decent time.” Levanta looked up and smirked. “I didn’t forget everything about Fawkes.”

“Right. Well, good night.”

“Night. See you tomorrow.”

I wasn’t late, but I saw a lot of other ponies turning up at the chapel when I arrived. Of course, “religious” was a stereotype of small towns for a reason. I glanced around, trying to see anypony I recognized, but I couldn’t make anypony out, either inside or outside. The chancel was large, but we could all fit in front the altar with a bit of a squeeze (and a quick glance determined that Hailey had gotten the hole fixed). In spite of the Fire of Friendship burning on the altar, the room wasn’t hot or humid at all.

We went through the usual hymns. The congregation was updated on some of the issues in town (Tacoma, whoever she was, was doing much better, thank you for your prayers). Then it was time for the amateur sermons. To my mild surprise, Homeguard was the first pony to step up. To my bigger surprise, absolute silence fell the moment he stood up. Was he known for doing this? I tilted my ears forward in anticipation.

Homeguard paced around and around, between the congregation and the altar. “How many of you are familiar with, or at least have heard of, the Music of the Spheres?” he asked.

Every single hoof in the room went up.

“Musica universalis,” said Homeguard. “Harmony at scales beyond even Celestia’s or Luna’s capabilities. And how many of you are familiar with the periodic table of the elements?”

Most of the hooves in the room went up.

“Molecules and atoms, joining and separating to preserve a neutral net charge. A different form of harmony, perhaps, and yet harmony nonetheless. Harmony at scales none of us can perceive.” Homeguard swept his hoof in an all-inclusive motion. “At either extreme of our perception, we can see harmony. To deny it is to deny the nature of the universe. Harmony is not merely some social construct spat out by our brains during evolution. It is woven into reality itself.”

Homeguard’s teaching went on. His language was a bit florid, but he presented his points well and used some remarkably good metaphors. I definitely wouldn’t have guessed that he was capable of it. It was almost a shame when he finished up and the next volunteer took his place.

Overall, the service was a little bit longer than I was expecting, about an hour and a half, but I didn’t consider a second of it wasted. It was one of the more enlightening services I’d been to in a while. But once the bell was ringing to signify the end of the service, the entire congregation attempted to disperse through the exit, with expected results. I got caught up in the crush and wiggled my way through the door early. Once outside, I pushed myself out of the crowd and to one side of the door. I’d wait there for Clearwater, and if she never showed up, well, I had her address.

Fortunately, she popped out of the last few stragglers to leave the chapel. “You ready?”

For some reason, thoughts of Clearwater’s daughter jumped into my head. “Yeah, but what’ll Babbling Brook think about the company?”

Clearwater blinked. “How did you know- Wait, Levanta’s your daughter, isn’t she? Right. Anyway, Brook’s away at a friend’s for the night. And if she wasn’t, she tolerates the company. Stuffs herself in her room for the night and reads. Anyway, my house is this way. Come on.” She nodded down the road and set off at a trot.

After a little while, she coughed and said quietly, “Um, I don’t want to, uh, butt into your personal life or anything, but, but Levanta mentioned that her father died in an accident a few weeks ago. I didn’t ask what kind of accident, but- I’m sorry that had to happen to you.”

I almost told her she didn’t need to worry about it, that I was adjusting fine. But even though that was true, out-and-out saying it would just be brushing off her empathy. I didn’t need her condolences, but her heart was in the right place, and it’d be… cold, I guess, to not acknowledge that. “It’s alright. But thanks.”

“Uh. Yeah. Anytime.”

I quickly decided to change the subject. Just because I was adjusting didn’t mean I wanted to talk about it. “Hey, um, is it just me, or was Homeguard’s teaching really good?”

“N-no, it’s not just you,” Clearwater said, almost as grateful for the subject change as I was. “He’s, uh, he goes up there nearly every service, and every time he speaks, it’s good. And I don’t think he’s ever repeated himself ever since he moved here.”

“Wow. Does he have any liturgical training?”

“Not that I know of. But Hailey- You know who Hailey is, right? Hearty Hail? -is the sexton of the chapel, and she’s his sister, so maybe a religiousness runs in the family.”

A-ha. I was right. Homeguard and Hailey were related. A minor victory, all things considered, but it felt good to get something right for once this week. “When did he move here? Did he come with Hailey?”

“Yeah, they both arrived, uh… seven years ago. And to be honest, I’m glad they did. The chapel was falling apart, but Hailey started repairing it the moment she laid eyes on it. She’s good at it, too, not the braindead idiot with a hammer you’d think she’d be. Homeguard’s also the closest thing Delta has to a surgeon.”

“A surgeon? Not just a doctor?”

“Oh, yeah.” Clearwater nodded. “He knows his med work like wow. Stitches, setting bones, and he’s even steadier with a scalpel than the doctor.”

“Wow.”

“And he works a lot at the fire station. You’re supposed to spend a twenty-four hour shift there and then get forty-eight hours off, but he often volunteers there on his days off and he never seems stressed. I swear, it’s like he doesn’t sleep.”

We kept chatting as we walked down the road. It took a while, and Clearwater noticed when I started glancing around. “Yeah, should’ve mentioned,” she said with chuckled, “I live on the scenic route. Not that close to Delta, but I like the views.”

Her house looked like something a hermit might live in before she decided she liked the company, anyway, and expanded. Most of it was small, compact, the sort of house for somepony who likes being outdoors and has zero claustrophobia — the porch almost seemed bigger than the house itself — but sometime in the past, a large wing had been added on. I couldn’t see through the windows, but it looked like a living room of some kind.

“Hey!” yelled Clearwater as we entered. “I’m back! Sorry it took so long! Busy service!”

“That’s fine!” someone said gruffly from the new wing. “Aberdeen got a euchre game going, so we’ve been busy!”

“Great!” To me, Clearwater said, “C’mon.” She pulled me over to the new section; more than a living room, it was a game room, with a pool table — a pool table! — two tables obviously meant for card games (felt tops and everything; one even had poker tokens) and a load of board and card games in shelves along the walls. Almost a dozen ponies were milling around the room; four were sitting around the not-poker table, engrossed in a card game, and the others were watching in the “I’m paying attention but not really” way, where breaking into a long conversation with the pony next to you is to be expected.

“New player tonight!” Clearwater said to the assembly. “Swan Dive, the ranger! Say hi, Swan.” As I awkwardly waved, Clearwater began talking more quickly and pointing at ponies. “That’s my husband, Pomeroy.” A lanky blue-eyed stallion with frizzy hair waved. “Othello — he owns the best bar in town-” A gray-eyed unicorn lifted a glass in recognition. “-Ephrata — lumberer and carpenter, she knows the most about wood of anypony here-” A vague wave from a green-eyed pegasus with a notch down her hoof. “-Tekoa — also lumberer, she’s both the nastiest and nicest pony you’ll ever know — that over there’s Granger — mid-tier weatherpony, solid and dependable — Moxee — vice principal of our high school, knows how to abuse loopholes, don’t play O&O with her — Wapato — he’s thinking about starting a mine, real competitive…”

The names started blurring around the second. I’ve always had a hard time keeping them straight. When I grinned and coughed. “Could you, uh, go over them again?”

“Hey, names hain’t himportant!” said… I think it was Tekoa. “We’re ’ere tonight to ’ave fun, hand hI don’t care hif you get my name wrong. You play cards?” And she produced a pack seemingly from nowhere and waved at the poker table.

“Well, no,” I said. “But how hard can it be?”





I was very, very lucky we weren’t playing with real money.

I was cleaned out in less than a dozen rounds. I think my poker face was alright, but I learned that I’m terrible at reading tells, and I’m pretty sure Pomeroy was faking half the time. He kept raking in the tokens slowly but surely, while Clearwater and Tekoa — it was definitely Tekoa — simply sent tokens back and forth between each other when Pomeroy didn’t take them.

So as Pomeroy slowly whittled the other two away and the crowd got bored, so did I. Unlike them, I didn’t leave. There really isn’t much you can do when you’re waiting for a poker game to end, but up and leaving felt rude. At least, that was what I told myself.

My ear twitched when I heard the door open, followed by several happy “hey!”s. I twisted around; Homeguard and Hailey came walking into the game room.

“I hope you do not mind,” said Homeguard to Clearwater. “Your door was unlocked, so we let ourselves in.”

“And if you do mind, tough cookies!” said Hailey. “We’re in now! Are we doing charades yet?”

“Not yet,” said Clearwater, not looking up from her cards. “Just let us finish this game. I thought you said you weren’t coming.”

“I said our plans were sketchy,” replied Homeguard. “As things turn out, we were able to come. We apologize for being late.”

“Well, happy to have you. I’d direct you to the snacks, but you don’t eat them, do you?”

“I do not wish to gorge myself on such fattening foods,” said Homeguard.

“What he said,” added Hailey, and sat down right behind Pomeroy. She rubbed her chin and made an excellent poker face.

Maybe it was just because I’d been sitting for a while already, waiting for the game to end, but my mind began to wander. I sniffed at the little bit of air Homeguard and Hailey had brought in. Rich, woody, just full of life. No two forests ever smell the same, and this one was a particularly alluring one. Pity I’d never stopped and sme-

“Hope you don’t mind,” I said as I got up, “but I need some fresh air.”

“It’s not like there isn’t air inside,” said Hailey. Everypony — including me — laughed a little, but I still went out to the porch.

I picked a chair far from the house and fell into it. Viewed through the trees, the setting sun was beautiful, but I ignored it. I lifted my nose and sniffed. A lot of ponies think being able to pick out different smells from a lot of them is some kind of superpower, but really, it’s not that different from picking out different sounds, just with a different sense. Anypony can, given time, learn to do what I do, even if I’d never match a dog for detecting smells. So it wasn’t out of nowhere that I could smell the forest. Not many flowers, but they were overrated anyway. Lots of cedars, as they were the dominant tree species around here, with their dried-fruit smell. The sour smell of western hemlock (no relation to the poisonous kind). Junipers (an apple-lemon scent). A lot of plants, I couldn’t identify, since I hadn’t smelled them before. They smelled wonderful all the same.

I heard somepony come up behind me. “Knock knock,” said Homeguard. “I hope you do not mind the company.”

“Nah, you’re fine,” I said, waving a hoof vaguely. “I just came out here because I lost pretty quickly at poker, and if I’m going to be sitting around, I might as well have some nice scenery.” I gestured at the forest.

“You know,” Homeguard said as he sat down next to me, “you could have joined in some other game. Or simply gotten up and let the game continue.”

“Well-” I looked away from him as I felt my face turn red. “Okay, yeah. I could’ve. Dunno why I didn’t.”

“Do you view yourself as antisocial?”

“Not really, no. I like ponies fine. Maybe I just prefer nature to ponies. I never really thought about it before.” Honestly, I hadn’t. But it made sense, in a way. I liked to work, and working put me out in nature. More or less ponies out in nature with me didn’t change that.

Homeguard nodded, leaned back, and sniffed at the wind. “Smell is underappreciated, don’t you think?” he asked. “Perhaps the sense most likely to get an intense response, and yet barely anypony pays it more than a passing thought.”

“If ponies paid it more than a passing thought, it wouldn’t be so intense,” I said. Vague memories of my college tracking professor surfaced for a few moments. “Like, think of… Think of taste. The first time you taste something, you’re like, wow, this is amazing or wow, this is terrible or whatever. But when you have it again and again, you still love or hate it, but it doesn’t have that same… kick, you know? You’re used to it. If ponies started smelling a lot, they’d grow used to it.”

Homeguard didn’t respond at first. I glanced at him and twitched; he was looking at me very intently. “Yes,” he said eventually, looking back at the forest. “That may be part of it.”

He didn’t continue. Neither did I. I felt awkward, trying to follow this line of thought after he’d stared at me like that. He probably didn’t mean anything, but yeesh. As the silence stretched closer into uncomfortable territory, I reached for another line of conversation. “So, um. I heard you moved here. How come?”

“Hailey and I — she is my sister — wanted to get away from the city,” he said simply. “It was too busy, too impersonal, and too fast. In a place like Seaddle, a second spent smelling the roses is a second wasted, and I like smelling the roses. We simply searched for small towns and eventually found Delta.”

“Seems nice,” I said.

“Quite. I have never regretted the decision.”

The wind rustled the forest. I sniffed again. No change in what smells were in the air, but their proportions had shifted, making something totally different. It’s a shame Equestrian has so few words devoted to smells.

“Have you met my sister?” asked Homeguard. “You would probably enjoy her company.”

“Kinda, not really. I only talked to her once for a minute a few days ago.”

Inside, I heard Hailey say, very quickly, “A griffon miner fresh off of work for the day who’s spotted a lost coin purse in a side tunnel and doesn’t know whether to delay his trip to the bar to pick it up or not!”

“She seems… um, interesting,” I said.

Inside, somepony else said, “Close enough. How did you guess that?”

Homeguard smiled. “Hailey is Hailey, and I would not have her any other way,” he said.
> 9 - A Walk in the Woods
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I’d probably have a gambling problem if any of this was real money. I kept playing poker — there was something weirdly relaxing about trying to guess who had what — and kept getting the first one to be knocked out. Homeguard proved to be an amazing poker player; it seemed to be impossible to bluff him.

Homeguard had just taken my last tokens again when Hailey, spectating, sighed. “You really need to go easy on her,” she said. “All of you.” She frowned exaggeratedly at the other players.

“No, they don’t,” I said. “How am I gonna learn if everypony goes easy on me?”

“Learning’s got nothing to do with it!” protested Hailey. “You sit around a lot, and sitting around’s boring. You need to stay in the game longer. Or at least have money given to you so you can keep playing after you declare bankruptcy yet again.”

“And how do I get money?” I asked. “I don’t want it just given to me. I want to earn it somehow.”

Everypony seemed to mull it over for half a second before Homeguard said, “I have a proposition. You are a ranger, yes? You must have some interesting experiences with animals and monsters in the past. If you tell a story, I shall pay you based on how good I think it is.”

“I was just thinking that,” said Clearwater. A few murmurs of assent came from the spectators.

Not a bad idea. It wasn’t very poker-y, but I didn’t really care. “Alright,” I said. “Give me a second to think. I lowered my head and closed my eyes. I needed something good to justify this. Something unique. Something- “Got it,” I said, looking up. “Any of you ever heard of Chincoteague Devils?”

Homeguard, Hailey, Clearwater, and several other ponies nodded, but one of the players — I’m pretty sure it was Granger, so I’m calling her Granger — scoffed. “Those things? Half goat, half dragon, half minotaur? They’re legends. Things made up to scare foals.”

“Oh, nooooooo,” I said, laughing. “They’re not made up in the slightest. They live in the Pine Barrens — you heard of it? It’s this huge forest that stretches across southern Chincoteague that, for some reason, earth pony magic doesn’t work well in. Not to the same extent as the Everfree, but it’s a struggle to keep that forest alive. Some ponies think that the Devils are responsible, feeding on the magic of the planet itself. Of course, some ponies also think that they’re the deformed spawn of Queen Chrysalis and a regular pony with incomplete shapeshifting abilities, hence their appearance, but…” I shrugged. All the spectators were watching me intently now, even if Granger still looked a little skeptical.

“Now, it was eleven years ago,” I continued, “and I was living a bit west of Chincoteague. There’s not many vicious animals out there, so it’s pretty quiet and I don’t have much to do. Then, one day, two ponies on a hike stumble out of the forest, one of them badly injured, and they start raving about this monster that attacked them. Descriptions of it sound an awful lot like a Chincoteague Devil.”

I’d been keeping a glass of water near me throughout the night, and I took a drink now to wet my throat. “Now, although Devils are real, they’re pretty rare, so the police were skeptical. Still, a wounded hiker is a wounded hiker, so I got sent out to investigate, being the main ranger in the area. The healthy hiker takes me to where they got attacked, and it looks pretty convincing, with bark gouged out of trees and stuff like that. I’m leaning more towards it being a Devil at this point. I notice tracks on the ground — which is a bit unusual, since Devils can fly — and follow them away from the site. Eventually, I find what looks like its den. Nothing unusual there. But when I look outside, everything seems greener and bigger. I start trying to pull magic into me, like I was making plants grow, and it comes a lot more easily than usual. A little more investigating, and the rocks have a lot more magic than the rest of the surrounding area. I don’t think too much of it, though, because then I see pony tracks heading away from the Devil’s den.”

A low oooooooo came from the crowd, which seemed to have grown.

I took another drink of water. “I head back to the hiker and start grilling her about what, exactly, happened. She confesses that she and her friend went off the beaten path, found the den — empty — and her friend, who was a unicorn, found some particularly magic-rich rocks in there and decided to take them for study. Apparently, they were the same naturally arcane kind you see in stone circles. Some time later, the Devil attacked them. Well, it didn’t take me long to put two and two together. See-”

“Two and two?” asked somepony (I couldn’t tell who). “How’s that two and two? It could be coincidence, you know.”

I glared in the direction of whoever had spoken. “I was getting to that. The difference between monsters and regular animals,” I said. “Monsters need at least a little bit of magic to live, what with all the disparate parts stuck together and impossible physiology. There’s a theory going around — one that I think is true — that, as a gem’s structure is so well-suited to storing magic, arcane absorption leads to gems having a higher-than-usual concentration of magic, so dragons eat them for the magic inside. Anyway, with magic so hard to come by in the Barrens, the Devil was leeching off the magic in those rocks and, once they were taken, followed them. In fact, I suspected it’d follow them wherever the wounded hiker was taking them.” I could still remember the terror I’d felt when I’d realised what was going on. I’d been explaining to the hiker what the Devil was doing to the hiker, and then my brain caught up with my mouth and I knew what the Devil would do.

“So I start running back, as fast I can, and a Chincoteague Devil’s already ripping at the doors of the hospital, where the hiker’s recovering. And it’s a small town, so the few cops that are already there don’t really have the training or experience to deal with something like that — no offense, Clearwater-”

“None taken.”

“-and they’ve barricaded themselves inside. Now, you need to remember: the Devils live in a magic-poor area and it needs to feed off the magic in the rocks to survive. It’s not a bloodthirsty monster killing because it can, it’s more like a sick monster willing to do anything to get its medicine. But the cops don’t know, and I probably wouldn’t be able to convince them. I tried to talking to it, but it wouldn’t listen to me. So without really thinking, I jumped on the Devil and started wrestling it.”

I heard a lot of gasps and variations on “Whoa…” or “Really?” I paid them no mind. I was on a roll.

“Now, I didn’t want to kill it, but Chincoteague Devils can be nasty when pissed off, and… Yeah. And those claws they’ve got are sharp.” I lifted up a leg to show three jagged scars running down it. “Still, I was battered, bruised, and bloody, but also winning. Then the Devil suddenly stops fighting and looks up. The healthy hiker had the mind to run into the hospital, get the magic rocks from her friend, and run back out with them to distract the Devil. She tosses the rocks at it, and the Devil swoops in, grabs the rocks, and flies away screeching. As far as I know, it never bothered the town again. And that’s how I got into hoof-to-hoof combat with a Chincoteague Devil.”

I heard several statements of appreciation. Somepony drummed their hooves on the floor in applause. “Good story,” Homeguard said with a smile. He cut his very large pile of tokens in half and pushed one of those halves to me.

I blinked, then grinned. “Well. Game on.”





It was nearing midnight when the party finally broke off. I felt like I’d just had a psychological massage, unravelling all the stresses that had knotted themselves into my mind. I was one of the last ponies to leave, alongside Homeguard and Hailey. They were sort of hanging out while I was sampling some of Clearwater’s beers. Aside from liking 190 proof, she had good taste.

“And that’s all the beer I’ve got,” said Clearwater. “But I’ve an open bottle of wine somewhere around here if you want some. 974 Champoney. And that’s real champoney, from the actual Champoney, mind you. Technically speaking, it has to come from Champoney to be called champoney. Like how tequaballa has to come from Tequaballa.”

“Really? I didn’t know that.”

“They are the vintages of those particular kinds of drinks,” said Homeguard. “They are s-

“Wellllll, I dunno about vintages,” piped up Hailey from a room over, “at least not for tequaballa. ’Cause the agave doesn’t really grow on vines, does it? Tequaballa is more like the agavage of the drink. …Ooo, agavage! That’s a great name for a rock band!”

Homeguard grunted and continued. “They are simply so popular that, as with kleenex and band-aids, the brand name has become synonymous with the product in general.”

“Hmm. I dunno, that sort of wine’s gotta be pretty valuable. What does Pomeroy think?”

“Go ahead!” yelled Pomeroy from upstairs. “I can’t tell the difference between white wines, anyway!”

“Just a little, then,” I said. “I want to be thinking straight when I head home.”

“Do you think you will require assistance?” Homeguard asked as Clearwater went to fetch the bottle. For some reason, he seemed a bit tense.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I said. “I’m not even buzzed yet. I’m not too drunk.”

“That is what is always said shortly before one becomes too drunk.”

Hailey flapped into the room, fiddling with a Rubuck’s Cube. “C’mon, Homeguard,” she said. “Like you know what it’s like to get drunk.”

“I never saw the point in purposefully degrading one’s intelligence. I am simply concerned that Swan Dive may continue on her current path of intoxication and become unable to find her way home this late at night.”

“She’ll be fine!” chirped Hailey. She dropped the (solved) cube on a table. “Fine as this wine.” She turned around, plucked the champoney bottle from Clearwater’s mouth (I hadn’t even noticed Clearwater was returning yet and she was as shocked as I was), and poured me a glass. “Please tell me it’s still fine,” she whispered to me, but she was still grinning.

Fine it was. I wish I knew more about wines so I could what made it fine. I slowly drained the glass, half-filled it again, and drained it again. I hiccuped. “Okay,” I said, “I think that’s enough.” I stood up. Fortunately, the floor wasn’t wobbling. “Thanks for a night out, Clearwater. I needed it.”

“Hey, anytime,” said Clearwater. “I’m here if you need me.”

“And, speaking of needing,” I said, my mind jiggled, “you wouldn’t happen to have a nailgun I can borrow, would you? I need to replace some boards on my shed.”

“Oh, yeah, gimme a sec to get it.”

Once I had the nailgun in my saddlebags, I said my goodbyes to everypony and left the house. The world might’ve been tilting a little, but it could’ve been my imagination. I was rattling my light gem for illumination when Hailey said, “Hey! Swan!” Then she was at my side so smoothly and silently I barely noticed her. “Bet I know what you’re gonna say,” she said, “but you’re sure you’re okay going home tonight? Pretty dark out there?”

“Really sure,” I said. “I’m used to the dark.”

Hailey nodded. “Thought so. It’s just that Homie can be kinda pushy. Didn’t want to come off the wrong way.” She saluted. “Anyway, later.”





The downside of Clearwater’s house being along the scenic route: going back was a pain. The road twisted through the forest like a snake, and I knew I’d have to double back when I got into Delta proper. The alcohol was wearing on me, not in drunkenness, but fatigue. Every step I took seemed to be a little heavier than the last and I was wishing for my bed before I’d gone a mile.

I know my directions. My house was to the east. The road was heading south. I looked down the dark road — zigging and zagging, lined with trees looming on either side — then to the left, into the woods — harder to walk down, but a heck of a lot shorter.

Of course, there were animals out there. Bears. Wolves. Other nasties I didn’t know about. Probably just as cranky as I was and a lot better-armed. Unwilling to talk to me, possibly hungry. Not to mention the predator killer. Plus all the uneven ground that was treacherous while sober during the day. And a general lack of civilization for you to orient yourself.

But, still. A heck of a lot shorter.

I’m not going to pretend this was smart. Or even anything resembling intelligent. I will defend that I was probably a little tipsy. But, I admit, only a little.

So. Cutting through a forest. At night. Yeah.

The moon was a waning three-quarters gibbous. Not quite a full moon, but still bright enough to almost see by. City folk don’t realise just how bright the moon can get in areas without light pollution (the answer is “very”); the only reason I kept my light gem ignited was because forests and easy traveling go together like oil and water at the best of times. Forget the trees reaching clawlike into the sky and their gnarled branches reaching out for you — the most intimidating thing about a forest at night for me is the risk of twisting a hoof.

But I settled into a cautious, weaving sort of mosey, subconsciously analyzing the ground even as I was stepping on it. An owl hooted into the night — definitely a spotted owl — as I surveyed the forest. There was only a smattering of clouds with the occasional angel spitting on me, so the moonlight filtered down through the trees and let me see just how far I was from civilization. I’ve been out in plenty of environments at night, but none of them have the quiet menace of forests. Personally, I’ve always thought that was because it manages to combine our fear of the dark (trees casting irregular shadows on the ground) with claustrophobia, of all things (no matter where you run, you’ll always hit a tree unless you turn) and a cartload of things for something to hide behind. It’s like a dense fog; you’re never inhibited, yet everywhere’s a hiding place.

Maybe it shouldn’t have been a surprise that I soon felt like I was being watched. I looked up and all around; the trees loomed above me, their branches providing a thousand places for a stalker to perch, while any number of dips and dives in the land could’ve kept me from seeing someone hiding in them. I took to looking over my shoulder, listening for out-of-the-ordinary sounds. Nothing.

Was I just being paranoid, or was my intelligence catching up with my actions? Even with the animal killings, there were still all sorts of nasty things in the woods and the predator population wasn’t gone. It was very well possible that something was sniffing me out and trying to get a feeling for me. At least it wasn’t the killer; that thing only struck once every week or so, and with the last murder so recent, there was no way it’d attack again so quickly.

Right?

I whirled around. I saw nothing behind me. I heard nothing but the wind.

Not even birds.

I swallowed and picked up my pace.

I managed to stay on a straightish path even though I started looking suspiciously at shadows. As my anxiety overpowered the alcohol, I started looking for what few landmarks there were. To my relief, I picked out recognizable ones. They weren’t much — a specific twist in the stream here, an unusual cliff there, a clearing I could barely recognize — but I was headed in the right direction. Eventually, I make out one or two of the few lights in Delta that were still burning between the trees. My heart lifted.

That’s when I heard the slobbering and ripping. It was quiet, distant, but definitely there. I froze. Whatever they were, they were eating, so they wouldn’t be interested in live prey. If worst came to worst, I could get away if they noticed me. Since I couldn’t tell what direction the noise was coming from, I continued walking for Delta and rattled my light gem.

Just my luck. It was coming from ahead of me, and as I slowly approached Delta, the sound grew louder. I stopped when I thought it was thirty feet ahead of me and bit my lip. Whatever it was, it either hadn’t noticed me or (far more likely) just didn’t care, since it already had a nice… something sitting in its belly. I could go around it, but then I wouldn’t know what it was and wouldn’t know how to react if it stopped eating. But if I took a look at it, well… Walking up to a carnivore in the middle of the night. Not the smartest thing to do.

What the heck. I was already doing one stupid thing. Why not two?

Walking in the direction of the sound, I rattled my light gem again. I really wish I knew why I did that; if it’s only been on for a few minutes, trying to stimulate the magic more won’t make it any brighter. Habit, I guess. I lifted it up and squinted into the darkness. Not for the first time, I wished I’d gotten the kind with red light.

But I saw it: a shadow I recognized as a bear, bent over a body and eating it. For a second, I was terrified that it was a pony, but the ears were too pointy and it was a bit too large. It wasn’t long before I recognized the body as a splintercat.

I let the gem drop and was about to go back to the road when I got an idea. Wolves and bears had different perspectives. Maybe the bear would give me more information than the wolves had. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to do it, but the bear was right there; why not try? I cautiously approached the bear. “Um, excuse me,” I called out. “Mr. Bear?” (I really hope “he” isn’t a Mrs. Bear.) “Ursa? Or- Urso?” I never know what to call animals. “Hey! Can I talk to you?”

The bear stopped eating and looked up. After a moment, he growled softly and went back to chowing down.

“This’ll only take a second, I promise.”

Grunt.

“Please?”

Huff. The bear pulled his muzzle from the carcasse and sat down very heavily. A good start.

“Okay. So there’s a monster — well, I think it’s a monster — killing animals around here, and I was wondering if you knew anything.”

I couldn’t see the bear’s facial expression in the dark, but I suspected he was giving me the ursine equivalent of “you can’t be serious”. He had the right tilt to his head. A gust of wind blew past us and suddenly the bear roared at me, a bloodcurdling and bassy hammer of sound.

Run! screamed my instincts. And most of my training. But I stood my ground, if taking five steps back but not running qualifies as that. “Look, look, look,” I said quickly. “I don’t want a fight. I just need you to-”

The bear took a step forward, his growls low. «You smell of them.»

Them? Them? And I’d had contact with them recently? “You mean there’s more than one?” I asked quickly. “I don’t know who you’re talking about, you need to-”

Suddenly the bear’s head snapped to one side. He froze and sniffed.

I followed where he was looking, but couldn’t see anything. “What is it? Is something out there?”

The bear acted like he hadn’t heard me. He roared into the night, more emphatically than he had at me, and started to back away. He paused, then he roared again, louder. Another pause, then he turned and ran, smashing through branches and bushes.

“Wait!” I yelled, bolting after him. “Tell me what’s-”

I didn’t hear a thing. A pony-sized silhouette shot out of the darkness at speeds faster than I could imagine and slammed into the bear without slowing down, yet I couldn’t feel any wind from its passage. I heard several loud cracks and the bear rolled out of easy sight of my light. I could see his shadow struggle to get up, but something yanked him down hard as if he’d been hit with a giant hammer. He began screaming.

Finally, the smarter part of my brain spoke up. Run. You can’t fight it.

Did you see the way it moved? I can’t outrun it.

That doesn’t matter. TRY.

This is the monster. I know it.

So what are you standing around for? RUN!

I need to know. I’m dead anyway.

RUN!

I didn’t bother giving my smarter half a response. I galloped after the bear as best I could. He was screaming, wailing in agony, making sounds I’d never heard a bear make before. His body was blocking my view of whatever was attacking him, but I could hear it. Wet rips, sickening slobbers. My stomach turned over just thinking about it.

I tried to run around the bear, but his body was lifted up like a ragdoll and thrown into a tree hard enough to snap the trunk in two. Even earth ponies didn’t have that kind of strength. A pony-shaped shadow was standing where the bear had been. Darkness obscured its features. I slid to a stop. Should I run? Could I run? How fast was it? It hadn’t attacked ponies before; would I be the first? Why in Tartarus had I walked into a forest at night?

Then a familiar voice came from the darkness. “Stupid fucking animal…”

Oh, Celestia, no. No. It couldn’t be him. It just couldn’t. He’d already wrecked my life enough. Why was he the one responsible?

The shadow casually walked into my light. Even though I knew who was coming, I swear my heart stopped when I finally actually saw him.

“Yo,” River said with a bloodstained grin.
> 10 - Shades of the Night
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

He’d just killed a bear, but Crooked River was standing in front of me with blood smeared around his mouth and not a care in the world. I felt like my knees had locked up and I couldn’t move. There was no way he was Delta’s monster, and yet-

River wiped some of the blood from his mouth with a hoof and licked it clean, as if it were strawberry jam. “Hard to get bears,” he said casually. “They’re smarter than a lot of ponies give them credit for. Taste is totally worth it, though.” He wiped the rest of the blood away and went at his hoof like he was a foal and it was an eggbeater covered in frosting.

My brain had stalled out. I couldn’t process anything. How had he moved like that? What had he done to the bear? Why the blood? Why was he so sunblasted casual about this? Was he toying with me now or what? I could barely hear him, my heart was beating so loud, and my coat was wet with sweat.

“But then, that’s only since I can’t go after ponies,” he said, not caring a lick about my lack of reaction. “Hot damn are ponies good. Sex doesn’t even come close!” He looked at me and chuckled. “Wow. You really need to see the look on your face.”

“What in Tartarus are you doing?!” I babbled once I’d found my voice again. “You- You can’t just- You’re-”

River’s eyes glinted strangely and his smile had too much teeth. “Right now? I think I’m treating myself. You’re new. You won’t be missed much. I was leaving this place in the next few days, anyway.” He started slowly walking towards me.

I finally regained control of my legs. Without thinking, I turned and ran as fast as I could. In a forest like this, you couldn’t run too fast, but I still managed a slow canter. After a few seconds, I glanced back. I could still barely make out his shadow. Whatever reason he had for not running, I was grateful.

But as I looked ahead again, a shadow flashed into existence before me. River was revealed as I tried to stop. “Surprise!”

When I couldn’t keep myself from sliding, I went back to running and collided with him. It was like hitting a brick wall; I don’t think he moved an inch. Dazed, I blindly swung my front hoof as hard as I could. And as an earth pony, I can swing pretty dang hard. I heard — felt — one of River’s legs snap. But before I could swing again, he’d thrown me off one-hoofed. I slammed into a tree a good twenty feet away.

My head was swimming. I couldn’t tell where the ground was. River was snarling as he limped up to me, one front leg twisted into a sickening angle. Without an ounce of pain in his voice, he snapped, “You have no idea what you’re messing with, do you?” He wrapped his good front leg around his bad one and wrenched it back into position with a nauseating crunch. He put weight on it as if it’d never been broken. “Stupid bitch, ain’tcha? So much for the wildlife expert.”

I tried to stand up, but the world refused to stop spinning. I fell into the loam as River approached me. I scrabbled at the ground, pulling myself forward by inches. By Celestia, if I was going to die, I wasn’t going to roll over and do so, no matter how little a difference it made.

River hissed and I heard a dull thud. The wind started whistling like it was being sliced by dozens of knives. Nothing attacked me; I risked rolling over and taking a look. Just beyond my light, two shadows were moving impossibly fast, twisting around each other so fluidly they resembled water more than ponies. I kept hearing vague snatches of words, but nothing I could understand.

Yet another shadow suddenly fell from a tree and knotted itself into the melee. Everything froze for an instant. River suddenly began to scream, then stopped just as suddenly. Something large and round flew from the mass, rolled into the light, and stopped at my hooves: River’s head, oddly bloodless. The mouth and eyes were still twitching. I retched.

The two shadows separated from each other. I saw brief flashes light, like somepony was trying to light a fire. One of the shadows walked into view before I could move. “What…” asked Homeguard, “in Celestia’s name… were you thinking?! You ought to have run, not-”

“Easy, Homie!” a voice yelled from the shadows. Hailey’s voice? “She didn’t know. Ten bits says she wouldn’t have been here if she did.”

“Get the fire going!” Homeguard snapped back.

“I’m getting!”

Homeguard groaned and turned back to me. “Are you hurt?” he asked. “Did he bite you?”

I blinked and forced myself back to the present. I rolled my shoulders, rotated my limbs. I could feel my injuries, but adrenaline was keeping them from being painful just yet. “Just some bruises,” I said. “No bites.”

“Oh, thank Celestia,” said Homeguard, running a hoof through his mane. “I was wor-”

A fire flared to life behind him. Hailey scooped up River’s head — still twitching, holy shit — and examined. “Woooow,” she said, like a kid finding an especially big candy bar. “You really did a number on him, didn’t you? Never seen you move like that before.”

“He swore an oath,” Homeguard snapped, “and then was perfectly willing to break it and descend again into depravity simply because he found his instincts annoying.”

Hailey shrugged and tossed the head over her shoulder into the fire. The blaze flared; I braced myself for the reek of burning flesh, but what hit me instead was a dense, heady smell, like too much charcoal incense. Hailey skipped back out of the circle of light, went to something on the ground — River’s body? — and methodically ripped it to pieces, throwing each bit into the fire. The smoke curled strangely and looked oily.

“We ought to get you home,” said Homeguard to me. “Climb on my back. I shall carry you.”

Outrage briefly overpowered confusion. “I’m perfectly capable of walking myself home, thanks.”

“I know,” said Homeguard, “but I am significantly faster than you are.”

“And that’s a significant ‘significant’!” said Hailey.

“I imagine you want an explanation,” said Homeguard. “Once you are home, you shall have it.”

What the heck. It was late, and I was too tired and befuddled to argue. I awkwardly climbed onto Homeguard’s back and wrapped my legs around his neck.

“And, hey, Swan? One last thing,” said Hailey, tossing what looked disturbingly like a rib into the fire. “After you brush aside my capability to walk down the street tomorrow, order the first thing you see, they’re great!”

I blinked. Twice. “Uh… what?”

But Hailey just smiled and winked at me. Homeguard dug his hooves into the ground and-

I like the strength and connection to the earth that comes with being an earth pony, but I’d be a dirty liar if I never said Levanta’s and Thunderhead’s wings didn’t make me envious at times. I’ve asked them both what flying was like. I got abstracts at best, but I formed a sort of expectation about it, the feeling I’d have if I flew: overall, smooth. Motion was only really detectable by the wind whipping past you. Close your eyes, and you might as well be sitting in front of a fan.

Riding on Homeguard reminded me of that feeling.

He moved like nothing I’d seen before, but he barely bounced, never put a hoof wrong, never turned sharply. It was like he was walking down a country lane, but less bumpy. I could barely see a thing. That didn’t bother him; ferns, trees, and fallen logs whistled by us, and yet he never tripped, never even got a branch in his face. I reflexively clamped my legs tighter around his neck. He didn’t respond. Somehow, I never felt in danger of falling off.

My house was still over a mile away. We arrived there in less than a minute.

When he came to a stop, I slid off his back, adrenaline making my legs shape. Homeguard wasn’t winded, wasn’t even sweaty. “Are you still unharmed?” he asked. His voice was tinged with genuine concern, not simple space-filling triteness.

“Gimme a moment,” I panted, leaning against the “For Sale” sign. It was more to buy myself time to think. River, Homeguard, Hailey… They were all something inequine. I knew that much. Yet… was that a bad thing? Homeguard and Hailey both seemed to be upstanding members of the community: Clearwater had invited them both to her party and Homeguard was a firepony and amateur preacher, for sweet Sisters’ sakes! And yet the two of them had killed River by ripping his head off. While he was trying to kill me, admittedly. So was murdering a psycho in defense of another good or bad? And what, exactly, were they?

I tried for a moment to process it all, but soon gave up. It was too late, and besides… I stood up straight and looked Homeguard in the eye. “How did you know where I lived?” I asked levelly.

“Ever since I learned of Crooked River’s plans for you,” he said, acting like he hadn’t heard the accusation, “I have been following you in my free time, denying him the opportunity to strike. That includes protecting your house, if need be.”

“Following… me…” Oh, no. “You’ve been stalking me?”

Homeguard opened his mouth to protest, then his eyes widened as he came to a conclusion. “That… was not… my intent-”

“You haven’t breaking into my house to guard me while I sleep, right?” A bit of a leap, but accepting… what I’d just seen was far more than a leap.

“Oh, Celestia, no!” yelled Homeguard. “Even my instincts are not that uncontrollable. You and your daughter have your privacy. I- I believe in the old rules of hospitality, where the lord or lady has supreme control of their home, and would never conceive of undermining that authority!”

“I’m not a lady.”

“I meant in spirit. Regardless of your nobility or lack thereof, your home is yours.”

I gave him a look, but walked inside. It was probably stupid — he’d just admitted to following me around — but I just wanted to sit down. He followed and took a seat at the dining room table, but I went upstairs. I nudged open the door to Levanta’s room; thankfully, she was sprawled on her bed, sound asleep.

Homeguard was playing with a paring knife when I came back down. He stared at me as I sat across from him. When he didn’t say anything, I said, “Okay. Now what the fuck is going on here? What’s up with River? What’s up with you? How did you know where to find me?”

After a second, Homeguard flipped the knife into the air, then grabbed it between his hooves, lengthwise — the end of the handle rested against one frog, the tip of the blade against the other. “There are… more things in this world than most ponies realize. Myths, legends, folklore, tall tales. Hailey and I are two of them.”

“Thank you so much for clarity. I really appreciate it.”

“You may not like what you hear,” he said quietly. “This is your final chance. You can leave this behind. You can pretend you still know how the world works. You can forget me.”

I seriously, honestly considered it for a moment. This was the most fucked-up night of my life, bar none. River’s attack, barely an hour ago, already felt like it had occurred last year. Forgetting it would be a mercy. I “knew” the wilderness and I was proud of “knowing” the wilderness; I didn’t need some new, unknown, pony-shaped monster barging in on the neat little facade of cardboard I’d constructed.

But even if I’d been capable of locking the memories in a little box and tossing that box into a woodchipper, I had a job to do. Find out what was killing Delta’s animals. I knew the who, and I knew he was dead. But I still didn’t know the what. I needed to know the what. I’d never rest if I didn’t.

“Hit me,” I said.

Homeguard stared at me, his eyes glinting like flecks of amber in honey. If he was feeling anything, his face didn’t betray it. Neither did his voice when he said, “Very well.”

Then he forced the knife clean through his hoof.

I pushed away from the table, my eyes wide. My rear hooves scrabbled the floor; they couldn’t find any grip. My stomach heaved like a boat at sea as I felt my throat constrict. I’d seen some grotesque things in my day, but none so close, none so sudden.

His expression hadn’t changed at all. He turned his hoof over, looking at the knife embedded in it like it was a fleck of paint. “There is a slight tingling, to answer your inevitable question,” he said, sounding almost bored. “But it hardly hurts.” He yanked the knife out with his teeth and dropped it on the table between us.

Cautiously, not entirely willing to believe my senses, I prodded at the knife. It was solid. Of course it was. It was one of my knives. A small part of me, the part that didn’t want to go off the deep end, kept babbling, saying that he’d switched knives some time ago, that it was a trick, that he had something up his sleeve. The rest of me thought that part was already far off the deep end.

Then I noticed that the blade was completely bloodless.

“What… What are you?”

Homeguard didn’t smile. He showed his teeth while each side of his mouth elevated. Showing one’s teeth is an act of aggression among animals, particularly predators. Teeth are often some of an animal’s best weapons. If teeth are being shown to you, you’re usually seconds away from a mauling. I felt the same sort of message was being conveyed here. “You cannot guess?”

For a second, I stared at him. He couldn’t be serious. In an instant, all my anxiety and fear was replaced with plain old pissed-offness. “I probably could,” I said flatly. “But I just had a really weird night and I don’t want to stress my brain any more. It could break.”

Homeguard’s not-smile briefly turned into an actual one. Then he hid his teeth again. “A vampire.”

I could practically hear my brain malfunctioning. The word didn’t fully register. “…Vampire? ‘I vant to sahk your blahd’ vampire? No reflections vampire? Hates garlic vampire? That?”

“I do not wish suck anyone’s blood, mirrors reflect me perfectly fine, and my sole repulsion from garlic is due to it holding zero nutritional value for me, but… yes.” Homeguard stared at me unblinkingly with his strange golden eyes, waiting for a response.

I blinked. The information slotted into place in my knowledge banks. However, the signal that I needed to have a reaction never really materialized. Maybe I was too tired to react. Maybe I didn’t believe it quite yet, in spite of the facts. Maybe, somewhere along the line, I’d just stopped caring. “…Well, okay, then.”

We stared at each other. He was as still as a statue. Neither of us said anything until I coughed. “So now what?”

“‘Now what’?” asked Homeguard. “Vampires are revealed to be as real as the air you breathe, and that is your response?”

“Well, you’re a vampire. So what? What does it mean for the two of us?”

For some reason, I only noticed how little Homeguard blinked when he started blinking a lot. “This… is not how I imagined the masquerade breaking would go,” he muttered to himself.

“How did you think it would go? Look, is this going to take a while? Maybe vampires don’t need to sleep, but I’m beat.”

“If… you are to know that… I am a vampire,” he said, sounding like somepony who’d lost his notecards mid-speech, “there are certain… aspects of our world that- that you should be aware of, for your prote-”

“Is it going to take long?”

“Yes, but it is urgent that-”

“Let’s do it tomorrow. I’m tired. G’night.” And I walked right up the staircase without waiting for a response.

He didn’t protest. He didn’t follow me. When I reached the top of the stairs, I looked back down. I hadn’t heard him get up, but he was standing at the bottom. “Shall we talk tomorrow?” he asked, his voice tense.

I shrugged. “Sure. Whatever. Buy me lunch and I’m yours for an hour.” I needed to indulge myself for once.

“I shall meet you here at one o’clock, then.”

“Sounds good. Night.”

In what was probably a sign of my sleep-deprived state, I had to go back down and lock the door after Homeguard was gone. When I finally dropped into bed, my brain simply shut down. There was so much going on inside it that it gave up trying to process it all, tossed it aside, and quit for the night. In spite of everything I had just seen, I was asleep in moments.
> 11 - Up to Speed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I dreamed of vampires that night. Vampires that hunted as griffons did, with bows and arrows and flannel shirts and those stupid caps, but still mounted their kills’ heads over the fireplace in spite of those kills being ponies. Homeguard had River’s head on his door; decapitation didn’t stop the latter from complaining about the terrible view. Cascadia made up his face to look like a clown. Then Levanta and a smokey purple pony who had “Babbling Brook” flashing over her head in neon started doing the can-can in an off-key minor and things got weird.

I woke up just before sunrise feeling drained and sore. I wasn’t sure how much was physical and how much was psychological. Vampires? Really? As a ranger, I saw some pretty strange things, but this seemed too far out there. Almost. I still remembered the time I scoffed at the existence of leshies, and a day later, had to bargain with one to stop it from overtaking a town. Yet… vampires?

I recall reading an article on cryptids in some nature magazine when I was in college. Its subject had been that, given the nature of magic, some cryptids could be dismissed out of hoof, as they would go against the laws of magic. Vampires were one of them. Supposedly, vampirism would require a near-perpetual spell based on blood magic that could transfer itself to other individuals, which was as close to impossible as made no odds.

But in the last four years or so, the apparently impossible had been happening in Equestria at a rather alarming rate. And just because something only had a one in a billion chance of happening didn’t mean that billionth chance would never come along. Maybe, somewhere out there, there was somepony smart enough to make a spell like that.

That was assuming they came from a spell at all, of course. They could be a different species of monster altogether, something that merely looked like a pony but didn’t have any association with them at all. They might not reproduce by biting others.

But last night, Homeguard had specifically asked me if I’d been bitten.

I must’ve lain in my bed for an hour, staring at the ceiling while my mind chased itself in circles (good thing it was still the weekend). Eventually, I sort of accepted it in a skeptical “uh-huh, sure, whatever you say” sort of way. I’d learn more today. Right? Homeguard was showing up, right?

I loped downstairs to find a bed-headed Levanta staring intently at a bowl of fruit and sketching it out. She had the pencil-bracelet thing wrapped around her fetlock. Even as I watched, she finished up, flicked her sketch away, put the pencil in her mouth, and started another sketch. The second one was much scratchier.

“Morning,” I said to Levanta.

She glanced at me and nodded. “Morning.” Back to sketching. “Did you leave a nailgun out last night? I came downstairs and the tablecloth was greasy.”

Right. I’d forgotten to put that away. “Sorry. My fault. Don’t worry about cleaning the tablecloth, I’ll get it.” I looked at the first of Levanta’s sketches. I’ll admit it wasn’t great, but it wasn’t that bad, either. “Drawing practice?” I asked.

“Yeah,” said Levanta. Skritch skritch. “I need to start somewhere, don’t I?” For the pencil in her mouth, I was surprised at how articulate she was.

“You’re really taking this seriously, aren’t you?”

“Sure. I really want to learn to draw.”

“Good.” I started making coffee. “Just so you know, I’m going out at noon today and I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Alright. I was thinking of going over to Babbling Brook’s today, anyway. Back by dinner.”

“Sounds good.”





The whole morning, the ideas in my head kept going back and forth at each other, yet neither gained any ground. I’d seen too much to say that Homeguard wasn’t a vampire, yet didn’t know enough to say that he was a vampire. I kept trying to distract myself, but my mind always pulled me back. Levanta left around mid-morning. Once nopony was watching, I started pacing. I needed to do something. It didn’t help; my mind spat out wilder and wilder ideas.

Eventually, all I could think was, Homeguard better have some answers for me.

He wasn’t outside when I looked out the window at 12:58, but seconds after the hour hand settled on the 1, I heard a knock. I looked through the peephole: Homeguard. I pulled open the door. “Hey.”

Homeguard nodded. “Hello. Do you mind where we go for lunch?”

“Someplace fattening and expensive. I want comfort food on your bill.”

He almost grinned. “Very well.”

I didn’t say anything as he led me into Delta. Neither did he. He took us to some small Chineighse restaurant that was slowly emptying out thanks to this being post-lunch-rush. He convinced the seater to give us a table in the back corner of the room, far from anypony else. We were given menus, I ordered a water to drink, and we were left alone. We stared at each other across the table.

I cleared my throat. “Well?”

Homeguard raised an eyebrow, every inch innocent. “Well what?”

“You know damn well what. I want some answers, okay?”

“Yes, no, to get to the other side, 42-”

“Thanks for the answers. That was all I wanted.” I stood up from the table and headed for the exit.

“Wait!” Homeguard ran in front of me and lightly put a hoof on my chest. I stopped walking. “Please, I- I apologise. I am… in a difficult situation, and-”

“So am I,” I said, looking him in the eye. “So you cooperate with me, and I’ll cooperate with you. Happy?”

He stared unblinkingly back at me. His golden eyes were piercing, and mine began to water. I blinked freely, but didn’t look away. He lowered his hoof. “I am not,” he said slowly, “but my unhappiness has nothing to do with you. For the moment, I am satisfied.”

I grunted and turned back around. When we took our seats again, Homeguard spread his hooves wide. “Here we are. Ask me anything.”

“Are you really a vampire?” That was the only question I could possibly think of at the moment.

“Right to the point, I see.”

“I just want this settled. Yes or no?”

If it were me, I probably would’ve looked around, just to be sure that nopony was watching us. Homeguard, however, simply said, “Yes. And to answer your next question, while I do need to drink blood, it does not necessarily need to be pony blood. I have found that animal blood works… acceptably. Although not all other vampires think the same way.”

I waited for a reaction from myself. As with last night, it didn’t come. I just sort of accepted it. I was finding it slightly more plausible than I had while in the dark, but still. “So that was why River was hunting me, right? He wanted to drink my blood?”

“He thought it smelled… sublime,” Homeguard said. “He arrived here several moons ago. Hailey and I attempted to convince him to abandon killing ponies in favor of animals, but he refused to hide the bodies he drained and perpetually expressed dissatisfaction with his diet. Yet I never truly believed that he would discard his progress so easily. You were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. I…” He hung his head, his ears folded slightly. “I should have been more insistent with him.”

Arrived a few moons ago: check. Didn’t hide the bodies: check. Pissed at what he had to do, probably leading him to take it out on animals: check. As if last night hadn’t been enough evidence, I was now completely convinced River was the monster killing Delta’s animals. Of course, how was I supposed to tell Cascadia that? “The monster was a vampire. But he’s dead now. Uh, no, I can’t show you the body, we burned it up. What are those nice mares with straitjackets doing?” And if Homeguard and Hailey were also feeding on animals but hiding the bodies, that’d explain the cave. No need in sending the town they’d moved to into a panic, now, was there?

I clicked my tongue as I thought. I needed another question and settled on- “So how did you know where I was last night?”

“Hailey,” said Homeguard. “She can see the future and distant events. She had a vision of you under attack, a-”

“Wait, wait, hold up. The future? So she’s… what, a seer? A prophet?”

“Seer, I think, would be the better term.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“It is what she is.”

“Look,” I said as I cracked open the menu, “you can see the future, but it takes a lot of effort. You can’t just… see it like you’re walking down the street.” I looked at the menu. Hmm, a special on cheese wontons. Sounded interest-

“And, hey, Swan? After you brush aside my capability to walk down the street tomorrow, order the first thing you see, they’re great!”

I shivered. “Cheese wontons it is,” I muttered.

“I hope you enjoy them.” Homeguard hadn’t touched his menu.

Folding mine up, I said, “So, since you drink blood, does that mean you can’t eat food at all?”

“I can,” he said, his lip curling a little, “but pony food is… repulsive to me. It is like eating dirt.”

“C’mon, geophagy’s not that bad.”

Homeguard stared. One of his ears drooped. “Geo…”

“Geophagy. Eating dirt. I mean, we- ponies get nutrients from plants, and plants get nutrients from the dirt, so to a certain extent, you’re cutting out the middlemare. Of course, if you keep it up, indigestible stuff like silica will eventually build up, and ew.”

“…Ah. …And you’ve done it?”

As the event in question happened when I was young, stupid, impulsive, and easily dared, I quickly changed the subject. “So how come Hailey can see the future? Are vampires naturally precognitive?”

Homeguard gave me a suspicious look, but didn’t try to press his question. “They are not, but vampires have powers outside the abilities of normal ponies, each one unique. Not dissimilar to special talents and cutie marks, in actuality. Clairvoyance is one of them.”

“And yours?”

“Mind reading.”

Almost immediately, I began imagining the dullest sections of my textbooks I could remember. Just the idea of mind reading creeped me out. It wasn’t fair. My mind was supposed to be private. Even if Homeguard didn’t do anything with whatever he found inside my head, I didn’t want to embarrass myself.

Homeguard smirked and tilted his head slightly. “With the exception of you.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, trying and failing to keep my thoughts on a blank piece of paper rather than smashing a toilet over his head, followed by the kitchen sink. “Sure.”

“I mean that with the utmost sincerity. I cannot, I have never been able to, read your mind.”

“And why should I believe that?”

Homeguard groaned and kneaded his forehead. “Do you remember the day we first met?” he asked.

I nodded. How could I not? He’d acted like I’d tried to put him in a full nelson when all I said was, “Hey.”

“I could not feel you approaching. The sound of your voice shocked me for the first time in a long time. It was as if an invisible mare suddenly stabbed you in the ribs.”

I almost didn’t want to believe him. It was too easy, too convenient, too… neat. Why should my mind just happen to be the one he couldn’t read? What made it so special? On the other hoof, if he was lying… why? He’d need to set it up almost a week in advance, before he knew our paths would cross. What purpose would lying even serve him? Couldn’t he just say he had some other power? Or even that not all vampires had powers? In the end, although the convenience of my mind being unreadable still felt suspicious, his lying required him to know too much too early. Carefully, I let my defenses down. They probably weren’t much good, anyway.

Our waitress returned with my water, and before I could say anything, Homeguard had ordered cheese wontons (“We’re sharing.”) and sent her away again. Now that I was paying attention, his words seemed to come just a little bit too quickly, like he knew what he was going to say before the waitress had finished.

That got me thinking. Once I was sure she was out of earshot, I asked, “So whose mind in here can you read?”

“Everypony’s. Except yours.”

I raised an eyebrow and pointed at a random pony, a mare sitting alone.

“Money,” Homeguard said promptly. “She is deducing how much she needs to tip. She has a method; as the sales tax here is roughly six percent, she multiplies that by three for an eighteen percent tip. Slightly over the usual fifteen percent, but she does not mind.”

“She does know she could just take ten percent from the total price, half of that, and add them together, right?”

“Yes, but this reminds her of her grandfather. He taught it to her.”

I shrugged and pointed at ano-

“She just figured it out,” said Homeguard abruptly. “Counting the amount out…” (I checked; she was digging through a purse.) “Leaving in 3… 2… 1…”

The mare dropped a small pile of bits on the table and walked away. Homeguard smirked at me. I pointed at another pony.

“Sex. He’s caught onto his husband’s sly hints that he got something special for their anniversary, and he’s hoping it’s a-”

I quickly pointed at another.

“Money… Sex… Money… Sex… Cat…”

“Are ponies’ minds really that uninteresting?”

“It is a normal day for them. They are thinking normal things. And I prefer uninteresting thoughts, as uninteresting thoughts mean they are paying no attention to us.” Homeguard smiled. “Rest assured, I shall know if we are at risk of being overheard.”

I looked around. Nopony seemed to be looking in our direction, but that could change. At least we’d have warning.

I started examining the whorls in the table. Maybe it was his frankness, but vampirism was getting to be less and less of an issue. It was just kinda sorta there, the same way the princesses were just kinda sorta alicorns. Unusual, certainly, but not worth making a big fuss over. Considering I hadn’t heard any stories about mysterious disappearances over the past few years, I doubted he nommed on ponies.

Of course, there was the issue of what a vampire was doing in this little corner of Equestria. “So why here? Why Delta?”

“When I told you of Hailey’s and my reason for coming to Delta, I was completely true, albeit, perhaps not true completely. We avoid cities. Less ponies means less temptation for us, less chances to smell blood. And the wildlife are of sufficient number for us to feed without attracting undue attention.” Homeguard scowled, but I knew it wasn’t at me. “Provided we practice discretion.”

I wasn’t too put out by Homeguard eating the animals I work with. Animals eat each other all the time, and one of the things drilled into you when you’re studying to become a ranger is that nature is not nice. For every picture of a smiling pony giving carrots to raccoons, there’s a dozen instances of those raccoons stealing and eating bird eggs. What I was more interested in was- “What put you onto animal blood in the first place? I’d think that pony blood would have to be satisfying in order for a vampire to keep drink it.”

“I have never drunk pony blood.”

I blinked. “Wha- Never? It’s just that easy?”

Homeguard peeled his lips back into another not-smile. “Hardly. It was like walking over a bed of nails before I discovered animal blood worked sufficiently. It-” His voice dropped, and he looked down. “It has to do with my… turning.”

Now that I was asking questions, the next logical one almost leapt out of my mouth. At the last moment, I was able to turn it to, “Ah. I won’t pry.”

“I may tell you later. But not now.” Homeguard sat up a little straighter. “Our waitress is returning.”

Less than a minute later, a plate of cheese wontons was deposited in front of me. I thanked the waitress and sniffed my food. Smelled good. I devoured a wonton. Tasted good. I licked off my hoof. “So,” I said, “sunlight and holy ground obviously don’t affect you. What about garlic?”

Homeguard chuckled. “My attitude towards garlic is the same as that towards any other food. I suspect it was a rumor started by vampires themselves to fake a weakness.”

“Reflections?”

“No change from ponies.”

“Rice arithmomania?”

“None.”

“Invitations?”

“Technically, yes, but because I am polite, not because of supernatural rules.”

“Stake to the heart?”

“Ah-hah. Now there mythology is accurate, for that is one of the few reliable ways to kill a vampire. Should the body not be completely destroyed, it is possible for a vampire to be revived, even if a spell might be necessary. A wooden stake that punctures the heart, however, will cause the vampire to disintegrate into ash, killing them permanently.”

I nodded. “Uh-huh. Fire?” I ate another wonton.

“Also fairly reliable, assuming you burn every body part. You saw Hailey burning River last night.”

I couldn’t hold back a shiver. “Yeah.”

Those being the only vampiric weaknesses I knew of, I didn’t say anything else for another few wontons. If Homeguard was annoyed or impatient, he didn’t show it. Eventually, I said, “So does Cascadia know about this?”

“No,” Homeguard said, twitching slightly. “She does not. It is better if she does not.”

“Why? Call me crazy, but I think she’d want to know that there were vampires running around her town. If nothing else, she’d be aware that-”

Homeguard suddenly flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes. “Are you implying that I am incapable of controlling my instincts?” he hissed.

I recoiled at how sudden it was. “N-no, I-”

“Then I fail to see why Cascadia — why anypony — needs to know of my condition!” 

“Well, it’s just- I think it’s a good idea if she knows that vampires exist! She probably won’t care that you are one, bu-”

“‘Probably’? Pray tell, what makes you assume that?”

“I- I don’t care!”

“Keep your voice down,” whispered Homeguard. “We are attracting attention.” He glanced shiftily at a couple several tables over. They weren’t looking our way, but I noticed that one of them had an ear turned towards us. I pulled myself a little tighter.

“Listen to me,” said Homeguard. “If I am to remain in Delta, then its inhabitants must not know of my true identity. If they were to know that I depend on blood to survive, their reaction would be… unpleasant.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. “I see.” Then I noticed something strange about his wording. “How many times have you tried telling them?”

“I- have experience in these matters,” said Homeguard. “I have heard stories from others, and it is always the same. We must. Not. Be known.”

“Alright, alright,” I said quickly. I took a bite of wonton. “So now what?”

“I do not know,” admitted Homeguard. “I have never done this before. You must not reveal my identity or Hailey’s-”

“I won’t.”

“-but beyond that…” Homeguard flicked his ears and shrugged. “I can think of nothing that must be done.”

“So, what,” I said, “we’ll just- keep quiet about this? Not say anything about it unless something comes up? …That’s… not sarcasm, by the way. I’ve no clue.”

“Depending on how the dice fall,” said Homeguard, “that might be necessary. I shall find you if it, as you put it, something comes up.”

“Which would probably be bad.” I toasted with a cheese wonton. “So here’s to never saying a word about this day again.”

Homeguard smiled. “Indeed.”

I wolfed down the wonton. Once I’d swallowed, I said, “So now that I’ve said that, what do you bet that something’ll come up tomorrow?”

“Quite a bit. Tempting fate never ends well.”
> 12 - Objection
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vampires. Who knew? And what were the odds of them turning up in a place like Delta? Why not Manehattan or even Seaddle? (Of course, Nightmare Moon first appeared in the podunk town of Ponyville, so at least there was precedence.) River was dead — which I liked more than I should have — and Delta’s animals were safe. Good.

But it wasn’t until I was walking back to work on Monday and slipped out of autopilot that I realized the quandary I’d been presented with: I knew exactly what was going on in Delta, but couldn’t do anything about it. I had one job — one job — and I couldn’t do it. Not if I wanted to stay on Homeguard’s good side. I knew that I could’ve just gone and told Cascadia or Clearwater or whoever about Homeguard’s vampirism and then he couldn’t do anything about it, but that would be a huge betrayal of trust. I couldn’t do it, not without a good reason. So now I was stuck doing nothing, wasting time, and forcing myself to lie to my boss about what I was doing, all while letting Delta think a monster was still running around devouring their animals.

Fuck keeping secrets.

I had a hard time looking anypony in the eye as I walked through the station house. Everypony seemed a bit too happy, a bit too prone to wave at me. I smiled and waved as best I could. When I finally made it inside my office, I breathed a sigh of relief.

I looked around at all the stuff I had in my room. Books on animals, monsters, and fearsome critters. Reports on the common behaviors of individual species. My own notes on things like bait or repellent. All pointless at the moment. It was like they were sitting there just to remind me of the lies I’d have to tell. I groaned, sat at my desk, and was immediately confronted with a neatly folded note.



Something new has come up. We MUST talk. After lunch, leave the station, claiming to have gone to the library for research. I shall find you and explain.

—Homeguard



-and scrawled right below that-



Vampirization time: ~3 paralyzed days. You’re welcome.

—♡, Hailey



Why would I need to know how long it took to become a vampire? Whatever. I ripped the note up and tossed the scraps in the trash can. Something like this, diving right into a world of vampries after I’d hoped to leave it behind, was just what I needed. At least it was a way to waste more time. And I definitely needed that.





Clearwater swallowed her lettuce and cleared her throat. “Swan? Are you okay? You’re looking kinda down.”

I fiddled with my fork a little. No, I’m not okay. I know exactly what’s going on in Delta, I know that it won’t be going on anymore, and I can’t tell you. But again, trust and whatnot. Homeguard had saved my life, and keeping his secret seemed reasonable.

For now.

“Yeah,” I said, “it’s just- the weekend is done, and it’s back to the old grind, and all the stress that comes with it.” I attempted to stab a crouton.

“Mmhmm.”

“But, uh, thanks for inviting me to the party,” I said, “that helped a lot.”

“Sure thing,” said Clearwater. “Let me know if you need another weekend pick-me-up.”

I finally managed to skewer the crouton and took my sweet time chewing it. She and the other cops in Delta — they, at least, deserved to know. I wondered if I could wheedle Homeguard into letting me tell them: Hey, I’ve got a problem. The sheriff is breathing down my neck about the monster — you know, River — and I need to tell her something. If I don’t, they’ll bring in another expert to help. You can’t hide forever. I suspected he’d argue away my concerns, but it was worth a shot.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” asked Clearwater.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, “just- thinking.” I swallowed my crouton. “Just so you know, I’m going to swing by the library, see what research I can do on the local animals. Let Cascadia know, will you?”

“Sure. What’re you researching?”

“It’s- complicated.” Pulling a few envirobabble-y terms from my butt, I said, “Arcane environmental interdynamics.”

“Um…”

“The effects of magic on the area.”

“…Yeah, sounds complicated.”





The moment the station house was out of sight, Homeguard ran up to me, just a little bit too fast to be natural. “I apologize,” he said. “I- should have known this would happen.”

“What’s ‘this’?”

Homeguard clicked his teeth. “There are… some vampires who take it upon themselves to enforce our secrecy. Should the truth be revealed to a regular pony, they kill them, barring unusual circumstances.”

Immediately, my brain began bursting with questions, but the first thing I said was, “This is an unusual circumstance, isn’t it?” I wasn’t that worried, but I knew that was the wrong response; you never truly react to the possibility of death until it’s staring you right in face.

“I hope so,” said Homeguard. “The fact that they have already decided to not drag you out of your home at night and snap your neck is promising.” He tried to sound cavalier, but his grin felt forced. “They are waiting at my home. Come.” He galloped off down the road; I followed.

We went some ways out of Delta, where the trees started growing closer to the road. Although Homeguard seemed to be moving easily, when we finally reached his house, I had an ache in my side and my breath was wheezing. To his credit, Homeguard didn’t act remotely smug about it, simply waiting for me to catch my breath.

The moment my heart was beating at a reasonable pace again, Homeguard said, “Inside my house, there are two vampires who… think you should be killed for knowing our secret. Hailey and I will try to dissuade them, but please.” He laid a hoof on my shoulder and looked me in the eyes. “Do not do anything to get on their bad side. They are already predisposed towards killing you, and may decide you need to die if you get under their skin too much.”

I reacted as if I’d been slapped. “Wha- They’d kill me because I annoyed them? That’s-”

“Do you kill flies for annoying you? They view you the same way. You are but food to them.”

“Well, I try to kill flies,” I muttered. “But fine.” I mimed zipping my mouth shut.

“Additionally, whatever you do, do not let them touch you. Both of their powers rely on contact.”

“Don’t piss them off, don’t touch them. Got it.”

“Good,” Homeguard said gravely. “Now, come. Hailey is already inside.”

I didn’t know what I was expecting Homeguard’s house to look like, but it looked more like a cottage than a house from the outside: small and a single story. Of course, he and Hailey probably didn’t need anything like a kitchen. Maybe not even beds. Did vampires sleep? It was well-kept, at least. Homeguard led me inside to what looked like a normal cottage, with a large sitting room at the entrance and a single door leading to the rest of the house.

There were two mares inside, a unicorn and an earth pony, but from the speed at which the looked at us and their strikingly red eyes, it wasn’t hard to guess that they were vampires. The unicorn smiled, somehow looking sleazy, and stood up. “Ah! Homeguard. How pleasant.” She glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Is this the snack?”

My breath hitched for a second. Oooookay. So that was how this was going to be. I clenched my jaw and locked my knees to keep myself from jumping her. Keep calm and don’t say anything.

“This is the pony,” said Homeguard.

“Same thing,” said the mare, waving a hoof dismissively. “But it knows about us and you just let it run around? Have you considered-”

“I have,” said Homeguard, “and I do not think that will be a problem.” He turned to me. “Swan, this is Esteemed Rebirth.”

“Esteemed Rebirth”? Somepony had a high opinion of themselves. When neither of the other vampires were looking at me, I made a Face at Homeguard, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

“Honestly, why are you wasting your time with them?” Rebirth laughed as if it were the funniest thing in the world. “It’s like- Can you imagine a pony naming an apple tree and tucking it into bed at night?”

I wanted to say that there was a distinct difference between me and an apple tree — namely that I could point out the distinct difference while the apple tree couldn’t — but I remembered Homeguard’s warning and kept my mouth shut.

“I do not-” began Homeguard

“And ponies aren’t even as strong as apple trees!” blathered Rebirth. “Ponies are breakable! I mean, a tree can weather a storm, but a pony gets tossed around and breaks its bones and-”

Images of a certain storm, barely a moon ago, flashed through my head. Two black-suited ponies from the weather department showing up at my door. A mangled body. I twitched and tightened all my muscles but managed to keep my control. Homeguard glanced briefly at me.

“You’re off-topic, Rebirth,” said the other vampire. “Let’s get to the matter at hoof, the whole reason we’re here.”

“And this, Swan, is Tributary,” said Homeguard. “But, yes. Business.”

“What business?” asked Rebirth. “It’s a pony, it knows about us, that’s bad, kill it! Discussion, end of!”

“It was not her fault that she found out about us!” yelled Homeguard. “Another vampire voluntarily exposed himself to her, and that was after he repeatedly refused to hide his own kills and I notified you of-”

“You didn’t do much to keep your true self from it, either! You jumped out and practically advertised yourself! If you hadn’t jumped in, we wouldn’t even have this problem to begin with.” Rebirth glanced at Tributary. “Honestly, he’s just as big a security threat as it is. Has been for centuries. Should we kill him, too?”

“We are not killing vampires today,” said Tributary. “We don’t kill our own kind except under dire circumstances.”

“Uh, yeah. I know that.”

“Then act like it! Homeguard has never risked breaking the masquerade this badly!”

“Fine. No killing the pony-protecting idiot.”

“And you shall not kill the pony, either!” said Homeguard. “We may be ponies no longer, but that is no reason to ignore-”

“Hey, Homeguard.” Rebirth sidled up to him as if he were a close friend. She attempted to lean on him, but he quickly stepped several feet to the side. “Pretend not everybody agrees with you. You keep bringing up these really stupid arguments that make sense to you and no one else. So, from a pragmatic standpoint, why shouldn’t we kill it?”

“Right,” said Tributary. “From a purely logical point of view, she risks revealing our very presence to the world.”

I shifted my weight slightly, bit my lip, and looked away. I wasn’t used to being this ignored, and the way they were so casually talking about murder… ugh. I suppressed I shiver; I couldn’t let them see me sweat.

“She has reacted to this revelation far better than I thought she would,” protested Homeguard. “Perhaps, if we-”

“Our secrecy, the secrecy she threatens,” said Tributary, “is the only thing keeping our species from meeting the same fate that Celestia and Luna dealt to our father. Nopony else will react like her.”

“M-maybe she isn’t!” But even Homeguard knew how weak that sounded. “Maybe ponies would cease to object to us if we did not have to-”

“I can think of only good reasons to kill her, while you haven’t given me a single bad reason.”

Idea! “Because I was sent here by the government,” I said, grateful to finally get a word in. “They’d notice if I died.”

Every vampire looked at me; Homeguard was slowly grinning as my direction dawned on him, Tributary was interested in a detached sort of way, and Rebirth looked like her face had been smeared across a wall and put back together badly. She snorted. “We’re listening to it, now?”

“Shush,” said Tributary.

“I mean, it’s not like I came here for fun,” I said. “I have a job to do. The animals around here are being drained of blood, so maybe they’re being used for blood magic. I already brought this up with the sheriff, so she’s thinking along those lines. And if I suddenly vanish? There’s going to be a lot more government ponies around here. It’s like covering up a murder by blowing up the house.”

“We could take them,” whined Rebirth.

“And then,” I continued, hoping Tributary would see reason and keep her from attacking, “they’d drop so many officials that investigators would outnumber Delta’s residents by at least two to one. If you kill me, you will be found out before the end of next year. I guarantee it.” I had no way of knowing if that was true. Whoever the Court sent wouldn’t be looking for signs of vampires. But it seemed logical. I could only hope the bluff wasn’t too transparent.

“She makes a persuasive argument,” Homeguard said nonchalantly.

Rebirth rolled her eyes. “Well, sure, you believe it.”

“And even a stopped clock is right twice a day,” said Tributary. “Ponies can still be logical.”

“You believe it, too? Oh, come on, I could-”

“And where would it end?” I asked. “You can’t hold out forever, even without weaknesses like garlic or sunlight.”

Homeguard’s muscles suddenly tightened; was I not supposed to know that? Tributary’s eyes narrowed slightly, but Rebirth was already running her mouth off, thank goodness. “Sure we can hold-”

“Enough, Rebirth,” said Tributary. “We don’t need to kill her.”

Homeguard and I looked at each other. I grinned — this was already done and done. Or at least, I thought so. If anything, Homeguard just looked more nervous. His eyes were slowly growing wider and he was rocking back and forth, like he had something he needed to tell me, but couldn’t risk Tributary and Rebirth overhearing it.

“Oh, now you’re sounding like a pony protector,” spat Rebirth. “And here I thought you were smart. Next, you’ll be saying we should-”

“I’m not protecting ponies!” said Tributary. “I’m protecting us! The secret’s already broken with her, but if we try to silence her, we’ll only attract attention! Not everything can be solved in a single day, as you ought to damn well know. Besides, we have other solutions.”

“N-no,” whispered Homeguard. “Please. You cannot do that.”

Rebirth’s face suddenly lit up, and she smirked at Homeguard. Tributary just looked unconcerned. “Why not?” she asked. “It’s the best option for all of us. She needs to be turned.”
> 13 - A Minefield Between a Rock and a Hard Place
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Turned? They- They couldn’t be talking about- Me? Becoming a vampire? Shit. No. That couldn’t happen. Not right now.

“She cannot be turned yet!” said Homeguard. “She is not ready!”

“And what does ‘ready’ have to do with it?” asked Rebirth. “We need to do it now. It’s how we’ve always handled this.”

I didn’t know what it would entail, but it couldn’t be good, not if it was something that’d keep me quiet. It might only be me becoming a part of vampire society and shutting up, but that was still too much.

“Maybe it is time to change our ways,” Homeguard replied. He was moving jerkily and looked like he would’ve been sweating if he wasn’t a vampire. “In the centuries since we were born, Equestria has changed for the better. Perhaps, now-”

“Would you bet your life on it?” said Tributary.

The pony known as Swan Dive would just vanish completely. Without a chance to say goodbye or apologize, I’d have to leave everything I knew behind. My family, my friends, my job, my- Hold up…

Hailey’s note flashed back to me: Vampirization time: ~3 paralyzed days. Which meant… “Turning me into a vampire would be even worse than killing me,” I blurted.

The other conversation ground to a halt. Tributary eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”

I took a deep breath and hoped to the stars that I was interpreting Hailey’s note correctly. “Because turning into a vampire takes three days, and you’re paralyzed all the while.”

Homeguard flinched as if struck, and both Rebirth and Tributary turned on him. “You already told it?” screamed Rebirth. “What were you thinking?”

Crap. I might’ve just run our luck out. If Homeguard hadn’t told me, how would I know? Think think think-

“For someone who claims she won’t be a threat, even unturned,” said Tributary accusingly, “you seem pretty intent on making sure she knows things about us. First our weaknesses, and now this.”

Ponies had heard of vampires. Stories had gotten out. A lot of those stories were incorrect. But some weren’t. So maybe-

“I told her nothing about the process of the change!” And for once, Homeguard’s protests sounded convincing. “I do not know how she knows! I swear it!”

“I did research,” I said quickly. “Homeguard was all, ‘I’m a vampire, don’t tell anypony or you’ll be dead’, and I- I did my own research. Vampires are based on legends, and legends are usually based on fact, so I figured I’d try to find out which facts were the right facts. I- gradually pieced it together from lots of different stories and guessed.” I wanted to add, Did I guess right?, but wanted more to not push my luck. Behind everyone else, Hailey leaned into the doorway, grinned at me, then leaned away.

“You knew vampires existed the night before last,” Tributary said suspiciously. “When did you do your research?”

“Yesterday,” I replied. “All day yesterday. I didn’t have any work and I was free. What, did you think he’d take me out to lunch and answer every question on vampires I had?”

Homeguard’s ears twitched and his mouth became very thin, but Tributary seemed convinced. “Fine. And why is it worse?”

“Exact same reasons. I’ll suddenly be gone — ponies saw me this morning, even — and the Court will get suspicious. And if I suddenly turn up again three days later without a story of why I was gone for three days, they’ll get even more suspicious.” Another opportunity presented itself, and I seized it. “Ponies and changelings might be allies, but there could still be some changelings loyal to… whoever their princess is. The Court will think I’m a changeling, they’ll run some tests, and boom! No more vampire secrecy.” I had no idea if the Court would ever reach that conclusion — it was farfetched even before the coup — but it was worth a shot.

“Oh, come on!” yelled Rebirth. “This is ridiculous! It’s making it up as it goes along!”

Tributary’s reaction was more reasonable, thankfully. Her eyes narrowed slightly. “You have put us in a pickle, haven’t you?” she whispered.

I shrugged and grinned nervously. “Sorry?”

“Oh, listen,” muttered Rebirth. “It’s sorry. Sure. Why don’t we apologize to all-”

“Enough, Rebirth,” said Tributary. “We won’t put our species in even more danger just to satisfy your bloodlust.” Rebirth opened her mouth, but Tributary was already ignoring her. To me, she said, “You’re right, of course. At the moment, either your death or your turning would attract too much attention. For now, at least, you can live as a pony.”

Homeguard slouched over in relief and I barely hid breathed a sigh of thanks. My heartbeat slowed; I hadn’t even noticed it racing until now.

“But-” -and the way Tributary said it implied decades, probably centuries of power speaking in a way you couldn’t just ignore- “-if you even think about telling another pony about us, I will find you and I will kill you. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of an audience with every single princess simultaneously, you’re dead.” She leaned close enough to almost bump muzzles with me. I recoiled; I could faintly smell something like rancid meat on her breath. “Got it?”

I nodded quickly. “G-got it,” I said.

Tributary grunted. “We’re done here,” she said. “Come on, Rebirth.”

“Hang on a sec.” Turning to Homeguard, Rebirth said, “Hey, uh, I’m feeling a bit peckish.” She smiled. “Hope you don’t mind if I-”

“Should you kill anypony in Delta,” said Homeguard, standing up, his face knit with anger, “and I will kill you just as thoroughly as you were planning to kill Swan.”

“I’ll help!” Hailey said from a room over.

Tributary gave Rebirth a nervous, “don’t push it” look, but she was too wrapped up in herself. “That escalated quickly,” she said, and laughed. “What, you’ll kill me just because I make different lifestyle choices than you? Somepony’s overreacting!”

“My lifestyle has nothing to do with it. You remember the old ways of hospitality, yes?” Homeguard asked quietly. “You remember the old ways of everything else. The host is gracious to his guest, regardless of how much he despises her. The guest follows her host’s rules, regardless of how much they inconvenience her. I cannot tell you to stay away from ponies on your own time. But while you are forcing yourself upon me and my family, while you are making yourselves comfortable under my roof, you will follow my rules. You can be civilized. Or you can be dead. And I know how to give a proper burial.”

Right on cue, Hailey slid into the room from the kitchen, her hooves wrapped around a shovel. “Does somevamp need a grave dug?” she asked brightly, waving the shovel. “ ’Cause I’m reeeaaally good at that!”

Tributary looked nervously back and forth between me and Homeguard, but Rebirth chuckled. “If you even try to go after us,” she said, “you’ll need your own grave soon enough.”

“I have been prepared for death for quite some time. Have you?” said Homeguard.

“A-as a matter of fact, yes,” snapped Rebirth. “Even though I, unlike you, accepted who I was and attempted to keep go-”

“Rebirth,” said Tributary. “Leave him.”

“But then he’ll win!” Rebirth yelled. “I can’t let him! I need to show him how wrong he is, I need to-”

“No, you don’t,” said Tributary. “He’s not worth it. Are you really going to let him get to you? That’s pretty pathetic.”

Rebirth glared at Homeguard. “I swear, one of these days, I’ll-”

“So does somevamp need a grave dug or not?” Hailey said loudly. “I had to walk ten whole yards to get this-” She waved the shovel again. “-from the shed! That’s, like, thirty feet! That’s three tens! And that’s terrible!”

“You quiet down! This is-”

Hailey spun the shovel around and poked Rebirth with the haft. The wooden haft. Which had been sharpened to a point. “Ten seconds,” she said, smiling nastily. “After that, we won’t need a grave for you.” She leaned over and said to Tributary, behind Rebirth, “Not you, though! Well, okay, we won’t need a grave for you, either, but for totally differ-”

Rebirth gnashed her teeth at Hailey — sweet Celestia, was she ridiculous— and turned, leaving the room in a huff. Tributary cleared her throat. “I… apol-”

“Do not apologize for her,” said Homeguard. “When I need an apology, I will demand it from her. You do not need to stand by her. You can join us, live a life free of murder.”

“It’s not murder any more. We’re above them. A pony is just an animal with a very high opinion of itself.”

I opened my mouth — somepony running around killing animals just because they could would still be committing animal cruelty — but remembered Homeguard’s warning. I closed my mouth.

“You know, dude,” said Hailey, “have you considered just how weird you sound? You were a pony, so you used to be an animal and you’re not because… potatoes? I don’t even remember being a pony and I think that’s a headscratcher!”

In a long-suffering tone, Tributary said, “We were uplifted. We were given gifts far beyond ponykind. Don’t deny it; you both use them yourselves. It’s our right to be treat them as we want. They die in less than a century; who are they to tell us how to live?”

After a moment, Hailey nodded. “Oooooh, I see. Because poh-tah-toes. Gotcha.”

“And so we find ourselves at an impasse, as usual,” said Homeguard. He pointed at the door. “You may have infinitely more of my respect than Rebirth, but you should leave.”

“It’s a shame, isn’t it?” asked Tributary, grinning wrly. “The ones we most want on our side are the ones least likely to come over.” She looked at me and sighed. “I wish I knew why you… protect them. They’re our food.”

“I was once one of them,” said Homeguard. “I have fond memories of my former life and I prefer to not cannibalize.”

“You’re not a pony anymore, it’s not cannibalism. Ponies or animals, either way, they’re less than us! Why bother hunting animals when you can just find and kill some bum in the city? Nopony’s going to miss them.”

“Um, hey,” I said, waving a hoof. “I’m right here.”

Tributary blinked owlishly at me. “Yeah, I know.”

“So do you mind not talking about killing and eating my species?”

Tributary’s wings twitched. “…Why?”

It really, truly hit me, then. I was sapient — fully sapient, cognizant, intelligent, capable of language and reasoning and abstract thought — but Tributary paid no more attention to me than I did the celery on my plate at dinner. We were the same thing: food, nothing more.

“You should leave,” Homeguard said levelly. He looked calm, but the same way a big cat looks calm before pouncing. Hailey looked away and whistled “innocently”.

“Fine, then. Goodbye.” Tributary gave a small bow and brushed past me to get to the door. She flinched slightly and Homeguard gasped, but nothing came of it. She was gone before I knew it.

Already, Homeguard was staring at me. “She can’t read you, either,” he said, as if he’d just learned some interesting fact. “Fascinating. Truly fascinating.”

“What? What do you mean-”

“Tribble’s vamp superpower,” said Hailey, “is to read allllll the thoughts you’ve ever had in there.” She lightly poked me on the forehead.

I swatted her away. “Everything?” I asked. “How-”

“Dunno. Magic?”

“-can she keep it- all… straight.” I stared at Hailey and opened my mouth.

“Because getting interrupted all the time and never saying anything is super annoying, even if all your questions get answered,” replied Hailey. “So I let people say stuff, even though I know what they’re going to say before they do.”

I closed my mouth.

“Clairvoyance rules,” she said with a grin. “Anyways, Tribble needs to touch you to read your mind, but when she bumped you, she couldn’t see anything.”

“It must be related to my own inability to read you,” said Homeguard thoughtfully. “Perhaps you have a natural immunity to mental magic. I suspect-”

“I- What? No.” Somehow, even among vampires, mental magic simply having no effect on me just seemed too out there. “That’s ridiculous. Why me? How?”

“How can an earth pony and a unicorn have a pegasus child? Why is it possible that the parents’ colors have no effects on their children’s?” Homeguard shrugged. “I will make no pretense in completely understanding how magic works. Perhaps you simply won a metaphysical lottery before you were born.”

“Okay. Immune to mental magic. Cool.” My voice was flat. “So, uh, who were those gals? Yeah, they were talking about killing me, but aside from that, I had no clue what was going on.”

“They were the leaders of a group known as Crystalline,” said Homeguard. His lip curled. “An ancient, cobwebbed organization from the early days of vampirism. They reckon themselves royalty, and with the powers of some of the vampires under their command, they can back that claim up. They enforce the secrecy of vampires in Equestria — with violence, if need be. If a pony becomes aware of vampires, Crystalline declares they must be turned into one themselves or be killed. For them, concealment is paramount.”

“Ah. Okay.” The would-be “rulers” of vampires. Tributary, at least, made sense — forceful, yet reasonable — but I was surprised they lasted long with someone like Rebirth leading them. Maybe it was related to her power. I’d have to ask Homeguard once this died down a little. However- “But how could they know about River so quickly? He only died, what, thirty-six hours ago? Do they have, what’s the term, scriers?”

“They do…” Homeguard turned to Hailey. “But you said they were not watching us when River died.”

“For the last time, my visions aren’t perfect,” said Hailey defensively. “And they only made the decision to come yesterday afternoon, or I’d’ve seen it sooner. Besides, since they don’t — didn’t — know Swanny existed, they couldn’t look for her. I know they couldn’t know she knew-”

“-unless somebody told them,” said Homeguard, standing up as if shocked. His ears went perfectly vertical and he twitched his tail. “Were there any other vampires in Delta?”

“There shouldn’t’ve been. I spent a long time searching the ether for them.”

I took a chance. Based on the eye color, it seemed logical. “What about Speckle?”

Homeguard and Hailey both snapped to look at me so quickly I swear I could hear the air cracking. “Who?” asked Homeguard.

“Speckle,” I repeated. “River’s… girlfriend, I think. Or maybe he was her boyfriend, she seemed to be dominant-”

“Did you see her?” Homeguard asked. “What color were her eyes?”

“Red- No, sanguine.”

“Son of a-” Homeguard whirled on Hailey. “Why did you not see her?”

“The same reason you didn’t hear her,” said Hailey. “She’s really sneaky. Maybe her power’s related to being stealthy.”

“Perhaps.” Homeguard stared at the floor and paced. “Maybe… if she cannot be found if you do not know where she is…”

“So… does she matter at all?” I asked. “If she’s not around-”

“Most vampires…” Homeguard said slowly, “do not take kindly to slights, particularly from ponies. She most likely associates you with River’s death and holds you responsible in some twisted way.”

“So she’s going to come at you with a bunch of vicious vampire vengeance violence!” said Hailey. (I blanched.) “Or maybe just let slip about what happened to Crystalline and get them to kill you for her.” (That wasn’t much better.)

“That is… a distinct possibility,” Homeguard said, tapping his hoof on the floor. “And, if so, now that her first plan has failed-”

My mouth felt dry; I swallowed. Nothing quite like hearing a vengeful psycho (who, oh yeah, also happens to be a vampire) is coming to kill you to get your blood moving. “S-so, um… what’re we gonna-”

“We shall keep watch,” said Homeguard resolutely. “Physically and psychically. Even if we cannot detect her, perhaps we can track her movements.”

“Plus, she’ll want to go after us, too,” added Hailey. “And we’re the stronger ones, no offense, so she’ll probably kill us before getting you. Especially if we protect you.”

“Protect?” I asked. “Like bodyguards?” I liked the idea, but I didn’t want to force them into anything and having them follow me around would look suspicious.

“Not exactly,” said Homeguard. “More like… flies on the wall. You shall not see us, but we shall never be far from you if you need assistance.”

Which sounded a lot like stalking to me, but at least I knew they were doing it. Really, at this point, there wasn’t much one could do without being creepy in some way. “Well, thanks,” I said. “It- It really means a lot that you’d do something like that.”

Hailey shrugged. “Just because we don’t kill ponies doesn’t mean we’re okay with other vamps killing ponies. Murder is just not cool, you know? Trust us. We’ll protect you with our unlives. This ain’t our first rodeo. Our first rodeo was before rodeos.”





When we were done, I didn’t go straight back to the police station. I walked a few dozen yards down the path away from the house, then turned and went straight into the woods. I needed to think.

Crazy vampire lovers out for my blood. Wannabe vampire queens who would kill me if I looked sideways at them, and that was without them looking for an excuse. And my own issues with lying my tail off about Delta’s monster. Breaks? What were those? No, I had to have a constant waterfall of crap pour over me. Even my weekend had been abysmal. Finding that note on Saturday, fretting over vampires on Sunday… I hadn’t even been here a week and it felt like I’d been here a decade.

I mentally slapped myself. Stop whining, I said. Get your act together. Focus on one thing at time. Get a story for the monster. A first draft, at least.

I slipped into autopilot as I started thinking. Okay. Pick an animal. One you don’t like. Bear? Bear. Why didn’t it kill the predators? Um… it wasn’t hungry. So why was it attacking others when it wasn’t hungry? Um… bad ley energies. They… drove it into a bloodlust. Like rabies. It broke all those bones because it was a bastard. So what happened to the blood? Um… Hm. That’d need work. Why hadn’t the attacks occurred all the time? Because this close to the ocean, ley lines had their own ebbs and flows, like tides. (That was actually proven.) The ley energies didn’t interfere with each other all that much. Okay. Good start. Was I missing anything?

I stepped into a flower-filled clearing and, thanks to a sudden lack of clouds, got a faceful of sun. I flinched, blinked, and put up my hoof. The rain had stopped, there was a hole in the clouds, and sunlight was pouring into the clearing. It scattered off the raindrops and bounced everywhere, sending rainbows across every possible surface. It was like standing inside a diamond. I pivoted my ears around; the rustle of wind in the trees, a chattering squirrel, birdsong. Beautiful. I sat down, my back to a tree, and closed my eyes. I needed a quiet moment.

What about Speckle?

I sat bolt upright and looked around, my heart pounding. The rainbows colored the scene strangely, keeping me from getting a good look at anything. I listened; the wind and animals kept me from hearing anything quiet. The flowers seemed to mock me with their overt happiness.

Groaning, I planted my face in a hoof and dropped down. I didn’t think I was going to sleep well again until I had some way of knowing Speckle wasn’t going to hurt me. And from what little I knew of her, that would only happen if she was dead. Well, if a vampire was hunting me, out in the middle of the woods was the wrong place to be. I got to my feet and turned to head back for the path.

Homeguard came walking out of the forest, silent as mist. “Are you leaving already?” he asked. “It is beautiful, and I thought you might want to stay.”

“Well, it’s just- You know. Vampire stalking me, dense woods, horror-story scenario. I don’t want to tempt fate.”

“If I stayed and protected you, would you stay?”

“Sure. It is a nice place.”

We sat down with our backs to a tree. I reached out and plucked a few flowers from the grass around me. They were wildflowers, the taste wouldn’t be strong, but they’d make a nice snack. I started chewing on one. Yeah, nice and soft. I swallowed. “You know,” I said, “back in the house, from ‘our father’, it sounded like you, Tributary, and Rebirth were all turned by the same-”

Homeguard immediately tensed up. He went as still as a statue, without even his chest moving to show he was breathing. “I…” he said. “…would prefer to not talk about it.”

“Sorry,” I said quickly. “Just curious.” I nibbled on another flower. Pretty good, all things considered.

After a silent moment, Homeguard spoke up again. “A proposition,” he said. “This information exchange needs to be two-way. I shall tell you a short version of my history as a vampire if you answer a question of mine.”

My ears perked up. That was… pretty reasonable. “Alright, shoot.” 

“How did your husband die?”

I felt like a knife was being pushed between my ribs. I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose — he probably didn’t even know how recent it was — but still. “It’s not much,” I said. Maybe, if I could dissuade him, I wouldn’t need to say anything. “I could tell you in a few seconds. Just a sad, pointless accident. It’s not a fair trade.” Plus, I felt like it needed to be fair; he’d been telling me so much while I just sat and listened.

“Nevertheless,” Homeguard replied, “I wish to know. Those are my conditions.”

I didn’t really want to, but… I was probably making Homeguard do something he didn’t really want to do, either, if I went through with it. And the pain was going away. Yeah, I could do it. “Fine,” I said. “But you go first.”

Homeguard swallowed. “Very well. The vampire responsible for our… turning was one who, as far as I know, was one of the oldest vampires in the nation. Perhaps the first. He has a certain infamy in Equestrian history.”

And immediately my interest was piqued. A vampire who I might have heard of? Wow. I swallowed my flower and leaned forward, both my ears turned towards him, my tail twitching. “Really? Who was it?”

“Sombra.”
> 14 - Heart to Heart
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“S-Sombra?” I asked. “King Sombra? Crystal Empire King Sombra? He was a vampire?”

“The oldest one I know of,” said Homeguard. “I do not know if he was the first one, but he had been around for a long time before he took over the Crystal Empire.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” I said, “but that’s ridiculous. The crystal ponies weren’t scared of him because he was a vampire, they were scared of him because he was a slave driver. He made them his slaves and-”

“Why?”

The question was so out-of-nowhere my train of thought derailed. I stared at Homeguard; he stared back. “Why what?” I asked.

“Why were they slaves?” Homeguard responded. “What were they constructing? For what purpose were they enslaved?”

“Well, they were- They…” I shut my mouth and thought. I’d read a lot on the Crystal Empire after its reappearance, but whatever books I’d found had always seemed to dance around what Sombra had done, resorting to vague generalities like “slave driver”. “I… I don’t know.” Heck, the guy had red eyes and fangs. If he was the first vampire, maybe that was where the image had come from.

“Because they were not slaves. They were food. Many were kept in chains and used as forced labor, true, but otherwise, Sombra kept the Empire under his sway solely so he wouldn’t have to worry about feeding ever again. If somepony ever angered him, he simply drained them in the middle of the night.” Homeguard went silent for a moment. “Having one’s foes turn into desiccated corpses overnight is a damn effective deterrent against rebellion. Why do you suppose he was turned to shadow rather than imprisoned or killed? The Princesses had already tried and failed to execute him. Myths of vampires were not yet well-known, so they thought they were dealing with something otherworldly. Given their knowledge, turning him to shadow was the best they could manage.”

“So, if… if Sombra was a vampire, why doesn’t everypony know this? Why’s he cast as just a powerful unicorn?”

“Tell me. Suppose a pony told everyone that they could have access to immortality, near-invulnerability, enhanced senses, powers beyond what normal magic could give them — even if they were just a pegasus or earth pony — and all they had to do was kill a pony every one or two weeks. What sort of following do you think he would gather?”

I didn’t want to think about that. I started chewing on another flower.

“The Princesses covered it up for the good of Equestria,” said Homeguard. “Indeed, as far as I can tell, Sombra was already in the process of amassing an army for the purpose of conquering the nation. When the Princesses destroyed him, his army was scattered, many of them hunted down, and any knowledge of the specifics of Sombra’s actions was suppressed. Granted, that was not hard. But their destruction of his army was not complete; Crystalline is made up of some of his most avid followers.”

Dang. Sombra, secretly a vampire, all tho- Realization overtook me and I started choking. I banged my chest a few times to clear my throat. I swallowed, took a few heaving breaths. Finally, I was able to gasp out, “You’re over a thousand years old?”

“Technically, I am thirty-four,” said Homeguard. He smirked. “But I have been thirty-four for well over a millennium.”

I barely managed to keep my jaw shut. One thousand years old. I… I couldn’t even wrap my mind around that. It was just too much. One thousand years old. It was easy to say Celestia and Luna were a thousand; I’d never seen them in the flesh and their alicornhood made them something… other. At that point, being immortal was practically to be expected. But Homeguard looked every inch a normal pony and he was over a thousand. I-

“Do you wish for me to continue?”

I swallowed, nodded, and nibbled on another flower.

Homeguard eyed me for a second, then continued. “It was over a thousand years ago. I was a preacher for the Path of Harmony, and I-”

It’s amazing how fast you can swallow something when you really want to. “You are a trained preacher! I thought your sermon on Saturday was good.”

“W-well, yes, but-”

“If you keep giving sermons during amateur hour, you’re kind of missing the point, you know. Everypony’s supposed to be able to relate their experiences, since harmony is everywhere, and a trained orator talking during time meant for the laypony is-”

“The Path has changed in the centuries since I first lived,” said Homeguard. “I… have adapted less than I ought.” A touch more testily, he added, “May I continue?”

I nodded and started nibbling on a particularly large flower. No more abrupt swallows for me.

Homeguard grunted. “I was traveling to the Crystal Empire shortly after Sombra took the throne. Although I had not the slightest inkling of his true nature, I had heard rumors, and I thought the crystal ponies needed a light in the darkness. As Equestria was not yet sending direct aid-”

“Wait, the Crystal Empire wasn’t part of Equestria then? I thought-”

“Do you desire a history lesson?” scowled Homeguard. “Or would you prefer me to explain just how I became who I am?”

“Sorry. Won’t happen again. I swear.” And I began devouring the nibbled flower to prove it.

Homeguard glared at me before continuing. “I headed for the Crystal Empire, aiming to provide what help a single pony could. At the gates, I was accosted by a guard who demanded to know my business. In my naïvety, I explained exactly why I was at the Empire. The guard said I was under arrest for treason and knocked me out. When I awoke, I… wish I hadn’t.”

He licked his lips. “The turn is not instantaneous. Far from it. Three days of paralysis and some of the worst pain of your life throughout your entire body. And… you are aware the whole time. I shall spare you the details.”

I shivered. Thank goodness for that. I’ve never been paralyzed, but I’m terrified of the idea. I’m even a little paranoid about anesthetics. And it was bad enough at the best of times, but three days of nonstop pain…

“When I finally regained control of myself,” said Homeguard, “I was in a cage, King Sombra himself on the other side of the bars. The thoughts of every pony around me were pounding on my head, although I knew not their source yet. Sombra explained my current state with a banal indifference, the detachment of a scientist. He was conducting an experiment, he said. He wished to know how long a vampire could be deprived of blood before instinct took over completely. I simply happened to be available. Then he had a pony chained up on the other side of the cage and watched.”

He massaged his throat. I didn’t think he knew he was doing it. “Vampires call it ‘thirst’,” he said, “but it is… more of a psychological need. Your throat burns, and you… know that blood would soothe the pain, if only for a short while. The pony on the other side of the room was more appealing at that moment than you could ever imagine. Yet my morals still remained, and perpetually hearing the pony’s terrified thoughts steeled me even more. The idea of taking the life of another, even to save my own, was… abhorrent on the deepest level you can imagine. It would go against every fiber of my being. And although my throat burned, it was not unbearable. I foolishly assumed I could live with it. Days passed. Vampires kept visiting, trying to persuade me to give in. And the burning grew worse and worse every hour.”

For maybe the first time in my life, I was acutely aware of food moving down my throat when I swallowed. I hadn’t chewed up part of the flower completely and a leaf tickled at my esophagus. I wanted a long drink.

“I should count myself lucky that only a few days later, the Princesses decided enough was enough and invaded. Nopony else imagined what I was, and after Sombra was destroyed-” Homeguard caught himself. “…was… thought destroyed, I was freed, apparently a victim. But over the few days in which I had been held captive, my thirst had grown, and every pony around me looked so… appetizing.” He cringed. “I needed to leave. I found myself daydreaming of simply walking up to a pony, snapping their neck, and partaking of their blood as one would a fine wine. When the Empire vanished, I took advantage of the confusion and fled into the trackless wastes of the Frozen North. There was not a pony for miles. And, left unquenched, my thirst began to take me over.”

He shuddered and folded his ears back. “The pain was beyond excruciating, far worse than I can describe. I imagined I could feel my sanity slipping away. I… cannot remember much of the later days. I know that I attempted suicide. Idiot. I was already dead. Sombra had explained as much to me.”

I didn’t know if vampires could cry, but he sounded pretty close to it. I leaned up against him and threw my leg across his shoulder. His body was cold, but I didn’t think of pulling away. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I know it’s a little late, but… Listen, if- If you don’t want to keep talking, I, I can-”

“No,” said Homeguard. His voice was firm again. “You- need to know this. I-” He looked me in the eye and smiled. It was somehow sad and warm at the same time. “But thank you.” He patted my hoof, then lightly pushed my leg away.

He took a deep breath and continued. “One day — I cannot remember how much later — I found myself crouching over the body of a wolf, sucking at one of its arteries. The… The taste…” He shuddered. “I have… heard it said that pony blood tastes better than animal blood. And considering the taste of the blood I was drinking, I can see how giving up pony blood would be difficult. To a vampire, blood is… ecstacy. A drug and a health drink, all in one. You feel like you can take on the world. Primarily because you can. Right then, I felt as if I was communing with harmony itself. Even though I had just butchered an animal and was lapping at its blood like a dog.” His voice was getting angrier, laced with acid. “But my mind was back. My thirst was being slaked. And so I drank.”

Hanging his head in his hooves, he said, “The greatest moment in my life was promptly followed by the lowest. The crash after a high. I… I was horrified. Appalled. Disgusted. My first victim was just an animal, but what if my second was a pony? I would never forgive myself. But then I realized that the pain was reduced. I had moved from a desert to a shower. Desperate for any semblance of respite, I hunted down another wolf, shocked at how effortless it was, and drained it. And, if only for a day, the pain was gone.”

Homeguard looked up again. “I could… I would not have to be a murderer. I could still coexist with ponies. And so I made a choice. I did not know how much the Princesses knew about vampires, so I decided to go to Canterlot and give them my own firsthoof information. Many of Sombra’s subordinates had escaped, and I imagined Celestia and Luna would desire every scrap of help they could find. Perhaps, in my new unlife, I could still be worth something. And so I made for Canterlot. I found the going to be much easier than it had been when I was alive.” He smiled for a moment.

“But as I traveled…” He began toying with a particularly long blade of grass. “I began to wonder. Just how much of a pony was I still? I preached that all things existed in harmony, and yet now my existence depended on violating that harmony. I had heard tales of black magic destroying the soul. Was that true of me?”

It was hard for me to think much of the soul; my thoughts tend to be very physical. But Homeguard, as a more religious pony, would think about that all the time. I was reminded vaguely of my own situation: unable to do my job for reasons out of my control. And no matter how bad I found it, he had it much, much worse. At least my problems weren’t existential.

“I swept the issue under the rug, I’ll admit,” said Homeguard, “perhaps believing the Sisters could cure me, and continued to Canterlot. I arrived and… To make a long story short, I eventually received an audience with the Princesses. I told them everything I knew. I know not how much it helped them, but they seemed grateful, even though they advised me to keep my condition a secret, at least until knowledge of Sombra and his followers had faded out of memory. But once that goal was done, I had nothing. Nothing but my own thoughts and fears. Doubts of soullessness crept up again. I sought another audience, but I… I avoided Celestia. I mean her no disrespect, she is a excellent princess, but sometimes I think she is too optimistic for her own good.”

“She’s right more often than not.”

“True, but optimism was not what I was looking for. I talked to Luna instead. She seemed more… pragmatic. Willing to be blunt. I poured my heart to her, told her the true depths of my situation, the things I had left out previously. I asked for honesty, but in my mind, I begged, pleaded for some kind of reassurance, no matter how slim.”

Homeguard paused. “Luna told me that if I was worried about losing my soul, I still had a soul left to lose.”

Another pause. “One rarely thinks of Luna as being the philosophical princess, but it makes a remarkable degree of sense. Every night, she assists ponies with their fears while delving into their dreams. She has a certain way of speaking to you. And those words were precisely what I needed.”

He looked up at the cloudy sky. “That night, I went out to look at the stars, the first time I had truly done so since my turning. And although I knew my senses had been bettered, I was left dumbstruck at the beauty of the sky.” His voice got quieter, and he started smiling. “There were so many stars I had not seen before. They had so many colors. So many patterns. And there were things that were not stars, yet had seemed to be; blurred clusters of miniscule dots, hazes of colored gas, even stars that were two stars spinning around each other. There was so much magnificence that my condition had not taken from me. So I decided.”

Homeguard’s voice became resolute for the first time since we’d started talking. “I was immortal, invincible. So why not use it? Not in the way Sombra was planning, to lord over other ponies. No, the way Luna and Celestia used it, still use it: for the betterment of others. For harmony. There was no limit to what I could do, for I now had all the time in the world to learn it. I already knew how to soothe the soul; why not the body? I began learning medicine. Eventually I was a doctor. And now, over a thousand years later…” He smiled. “Here I am.”

“Wow,” I said quietly. “That’s… something, alright. Dang.” I wanted to say I could’ve done it, but in all honesty, I wasn’t sure. I’d never really been tested just that much. One of the hardest times in my life was the first time I moved, for Celestia’s sake. And all that, more than a millennium ago. I wondered what else Homeguard had learned in that time. Forget being a Reinaissance mare; he might be a regular Reinaissance stallion, all by himself. It was a bit much to take in at once and my head was bursting with questions, but he’d be waiting for my story. So instead, I said, “Kinda wordy, aren’t you?”

Homeguard chucked. “Ponies were more verbose a thousand years ago. It is a habit I have not bothered to lose.”

A bird twittered somewhere. It sounded like a sparrow. I took a deep breath. “My turn?” I asked.

Homeguard nodded.

“Right.” I braced myself and said, “Several moons ago, my family had three people. Me, my daughter Levanta, and my husband Thunderhead. We lived out in Fawkes. Kind of out in the desert, you know. Real flat. The weather out there can build up and get nasty, with no changes in the land to disrupt it. Thunderhead was on the weather team. And… one day…” I blinked and wiped my eyes. “The storm he was helping to manage was a lot worse than expected. The wind was too much and he lost control of his flight and- and couldn’t pull up in time. And that was that.”

I shuddered as the memory of the following days sprang unbidden into my mind. He hadn’t been the only one to die that day, so I was brought in to help identify the body. Get that 99% certainty to 100%. And, somehow, when it was time to head to the hospital, I was worried about what to wear. I’d just finished work; my jacket? But it was dirty, and I didn’t want to dirty the hospital up. A dress was respectful. But it wasn’t a funeral yet and Thunderhead would’ve laughed at me in a dress. Just an everyday shirt, then. But I was going to look at my husband’s body. Who wears an everyday shirt to that? And for what must’ve been half an hour, I felt lost, simply staring into my closet and wondering what to wear.

“I- This probably sounds stupid to you, since you’re- immortal and all, but…” I blinked again and sniffed. “It’s- Death is so… weird. I said goodbye to him that morning, heard something about a bad storm that afternoon, and a little after I got home, my doorbell rang, there were two mares in black suits, and- and I knew I’d never see him again.”

When I finally went to the hospital, I was taken to a room — not the morgue, more like a waiting room. A counselor sat down with me and patiently explained what I’d be seeing. It’d be done with photos. I was given all the time I needed to prepare. Was this his face? It was terribly battered, but yes, it was. Was this his cutie mark? I’d looked past the ragged gash running straight through it. Yes, it was. And we were done. I was asked if I’d like to see the body. Yes, I would. It’s very damaged. I know. I still would like to see him.

“I was setting the table for dinner. Three spots: me, him, and my daughter. And- All of a sudden, one spot was pointless. That was the way my mind put it. Levanta was making green bean casserole, and- She didn’t know who the mares were. We’d never thought to tell her. He’d been a weatherpony for the past twenty years just fine. Why would anything go wrong now? And- then I had to tell her. It was better she hear it from me than some mare in black.”

In spite of all his injuries, somehow the worst one was that his jaw was broken. It doesn’t sound like much, but for a second, when I saw his face, I thought it wasn’t him. It just didn’t look like him. The picture was flat; it couldn’t capture how wrong his face was. I forced myself to stay, convinced myself it was him. It was his cutie mark on the body, after all. His injuries… They were… Celestia, I still don’t like to think about it. I’m completely certain seeing the body was the right thing, but we had a closed-casket funeral.

“And then, the world just kept going. One of the few ponies I’d poured my heart out to was gone, but nothing else changed. I just- went on, dealt with the bureaucracy, and got shipped here a few weeks later.” I sighed and kicked at a stone. “The bureaucracy really doesn’t give two shits about death.”

Levanta never saw his body. She’d had the option, but she said she didn’t want to. Even then, I wondered if she’d really wanted to but just couldn’t bring herself to do it. Still, she gave a eulogy at his funeral. It was… alright. Writing was never her strong suit. Except for the closing line: “He was like a father to me.” Why had it been so funny? Why hadn’t I cared that it was so funny during a funeral? It probably described Thunderhead better than anything else.

I stared out at the other side of the meadow. “At first, I thought I’d never get over it. But one week went by. And another. And another. And- I’ll never forget him, but- but I’m moving on.” I rubbed at my eyes. “It- I- That’s all there is to it.” I looked down, slightly embarrassed for some reason. “You… probably don’t want to listen to me ramble.” I started chewing on another flower.

The not-silence of nature reigned for a moment. Then Homeguard spoke up. “Death was something of a rarity in my life before I was turned. I was still young and healthy, as were my friends. I am sorry you had to experience it like that, so suddenly. I wish I had more than sympathy to offer you.”

“Sympathy’s fine,” I said. “It’s enough.”

“Still…”

“Look, don’t, don’t worry about it. Yeah, it’s, I’m sad, but I can’t wallow in misery forever. Sympathy’s fine. Thanks for listening.”

“…Very well.”

I needed to get back to the police station, sooner or later. But for now, I just sat and watched the meadow shine.
> 15 - Planning Ahead
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright, Swan,” said Clearwater as we left the station. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think something’s wrong?” I asked unconvincingly.

“You just sighed, and it sounded like a sad balloon committing suicide.”

“…Uh.”

Clearwater scowled and rustled her wings. “Well, it did! Seriously, what’s up?”

There are two sets of vampires who want to kill me for two different reasons and I’m lying to you through my teeth right now. “I dunno. Monday blues, I guess.”

“You’re going way beyond ‘blue’. More like ultraviolet. Was the research that bad?”

I looked up. “Hmm?” And remembered, just in time, that I’d supposedly spent most of the afternoon doing research at the library. “Oh, uh, yeah. Terrible.”

“Bummer. You need a small night out? Just spending a few hours with a friend? I’m free.”

“Not right now, no. I’ll let you know if I need it later.”

“Alright. You need anything, anything, I’m here.” Clearwater lightly slapped me on the shoulder. “Pomeroy too, if that’s what you want. I don’t want you up and burning yourself out just because you were too proud to ask for help.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, I won’t. But thanks for the offer, anyway.”





There was an extra raincoat on the floor when I got home, and I’d barely stepped inside when I heard voices: Levanta and one I didn’t recognize. I had a brief moment of panic before I realized it wasn’t Speckle’s voice. Besides…

“C’mon! Corvallis is way hotter.”

“Yeah, but Prescott’s cuter and he’s on the track team!”

I didn’t think Speckle would be talking about something like that.

Levanta was sitting at the coffee table with an earth pony about her age who had a very slicked-back mane. Paper littered the floor around them. They were both wearing fetlock pencil holders and were drawing things on their own clean sheet of paper. Levanta noticed me and waved. “Hi, Mom! This is Babbling Brook. Clearwater’s daughter, you know? Hope you don’t mind.”

“Are you ma-”

“Yes, I’m making an extra serving for dinner.”

“Then as long as she’s out of here by ten, we’re fine.” I nodded at Brook. “Hello. Pleased to meet you.”

Brook glanced up and quickly waved at me. “Hi, Ms. Dive.” She quickly went back to her drawing.

“You didn’t have a hard time finding us, did you?”

Brook giggled. “Of course not,” she said. “Your house is the only one in town with a ‘For Sale’ sign in front.”

“Seriously, Mom,” said Levanta, “are you gonna take that down or what? It’s been a week.”

“I’ll get to it eventually,” I replied. “Tomorrow.”

Levanta rolled her eyes and whispered something in Brook’s ear. I’d bet money it was something like, But when it’s tomorrow, tomorrow will be today, not tomorrow. So I sometimes procrastinate. Sue me. “So what’re you two working on?”

“Me, portraits,” said Levanta. “Her, perspective. Those’re the things we suck at. Mom, you should- Brook, show her that picture you drew of me.”

“I don’t know,” Brook said quietly. She looked away, but not fast enough to hide the blush. “I- don’t think she’d-”

“It was awesome.” Levanta punctuated her words with a flare of her wings. “She needs to see it. Stuff like that’s the reason I wanted to start drawing in the first place.”

“Alright.” Brook leafed through a small pile of papers and pulled out one. She held it up for me, her eyes averted and her ears back. “It’s- I drew this as a warmup,” she said. “It’s just Levanta.”

I was expecting something rough, but decent. What I got was a very, very good portrait of Levanta. The lines were sharp and crisp, the shading was better than I thought was possible with a pencil, and she’d perfectly captured Levanta’s slightly scraggly mane. I whistled. “This… this is great. You should be proud of yourself.”

Brook didn’t look at me, but I could see her smile. “Thanks.”

“How’s the investigation going?” asked Levanta.

My throat suddenly felt very small. “It’s… going.”





I’d lied before, I’ll admit. But at least then, it was my (stupid) choice. Here, I wanted nothing more than to tell the truth, I couldn’t do so, and I couldn’t even hide behind the “sorry, I’m not allowed to say” of a nondisclosure agreement. I could barely sleep that night as I kept imagining what was going to happen when the whole charade inevitably collapsed around me.

I needed to talk to Homeguard. I’d convince him to let me tell the truth if it was the last thing I did. Sometime in the middle of the night, I realized that if he and Hailey really were keeping watch over me like some kind of cross between stalkers and guardian angels, I probably could just walk outside and scream that I wanted to talk, but I was tired and I did my damnedest to get some sleep.

My mind felt soupy as I dragged myself to the police station. I wasn’t sure if it was the stress, the lack of sleep, or something else. I vaguely decided to do the same thing I had yesterday: claim to go to the library for research when I was actually talking with Homeguard. Maybe I’d also crash at his house for an hour for some sleep.

But I’d barely set foot in the station when I was intercepted by Cascadia. “Hey, Swan? Got time for a quick word?”

Once she’d pulled me into her office, Cascadia drummed a hoof on the folder in front of her. “You mentioned the possibility of the animals being used for blood magic on Friday, right?”

“Yeah…” I said cautiously. For all I knew, I had set Cascadia on the path to discovering vampires by accident. The last thing (well, given the circumstances, more like fourth-to-last thing) I needed was her discovering I’d started lying to her.

“I did a little bit of research over the weekend-” She tapped her folder. “-and I’m beginning to think you might be right. Somepony drains animals of their blood, and because they’re an asshole, they beat up the animal for fun. Maybe not in that order. And blood doesn’t keep forever, hence the continuous killings. I was thinking of asking the Court for a magic professional on this.”

“Okay…”

“But you’re the pony who’s in the thick of it. You’re the one who knows everything, and I don’t want to jump the bolt. So, tell me: how certain are you that a monster’s responsible? I’d rather not waste time pulling some arcanist out here from Canterlot only to find we were way off-base.”

In all honesty, I owed her the truth. She deserved it. But between Homeguard’s trust and Tributary’s threat, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “I’d like to assume it’s a monster,” I said. “A non-pony monster. But if we can’t turn up anything by the end of… next week, I think, send out that letter.” And now I had two weeks to cobble together some story that wasn’t complete trash, that could stand up to scrutiny. Yeah, right.

Cascadia looked skeptical, but nodded. “If you want to wait that long. If it were me, I’d send off for her at the end of this week, but…” She shrugged. “You know better.”

And yet I was still lying my ass off about all of this. I was this close to just spitting it out entirely. I needed to discuss this with Homeguard. Good thing I was planning on talking to him today anyway.





Homeguard was waiting the moment I was out of sight of the police station. “Is something wrong?” he asked as we walked down the empty road. “You-”

“We need to tell them,” I said flatly. “The cops, at least. That you’re a vampire. About Ri-.”

“No,” Homeguard said immediately through clenched teeth. “We shall not-”

“Maybe it’s easy for you,” I snapped, “but remember what I told Crystalline? I’m here for a job. Right now, thanks to your rules, I can’t do that job. Cascadia’s going to ask for a magic specialist in less than two weeks if I don’t bring in an answer. Face it, vampires are going to be revealed whether you like or not. Whether Crystalline likes it or not.”

“And Crystalline almost certainly has scriers watching you right now,” Homeguard snapped back. “Yes, there are vampires whose power is some form of remote viewing. And you are already a potential threat to their ever-important secrecy. Make no mistake, you were lucky yesterday. You were very, very lucky. It is not just for me that I want you to keep quiet. Should attempt to notify anypony-”

“They’ll come here and kill me. I know.” I glared in a random direction on the off chance that was the direction they were watching me from and kicked a rock into the woods. “Fuck keeping secrets,” I muttered. “Are they the real reason you didn’t want me to reveal your vampirism in the first place?”

Homeguard sighed. “Crystalline is… violently protective of our secrecy. It is the sole thing they value above all else. What other rules they enforce are all in service of secrecy. I suspect that, had we not intervened and River killed you, they would have killed him for being so careless in leaving the corpses of his animal victims around.”

“What a relief,” I muttered. “What’s up with their mystery fetish?”

“I…” Homeguard twitched his ears. “Pardon?”

“I mean, it’s- Why hide?” I asked. “Because ponies will be scared of you? Less than a year ago, the entire changeling race — you know, the guys that are like you but with love instead of blood — claimed to have an overnight change of heart and every princess ever believed them. And they were right.”

“There- There is a distinct dif-”

“They found an alternate food source. You have an alternate food source. If you stick to animal blood, I’d bet money that most ponies would accept you, sooner or later. And unlike changelings, you can personally wait for ‘later’ as long as you want.”

Homeguard didn’t say anything. He stared off into the forest, as if deep in thought.

“…Does Crystalline give a reason for all the secrecy? Or is just vague ‘ponies are scary’?”

“They…” Homeguard said slowly. “…claim that… ponies will never accept us, but-”

“That’s vague ‘ponies are scary’! Not even they have a reason for keeping this all a secret!”

“Unless…” Homeguard pawed at the ground. “Unless their actual reason is not the one they give us. Many high-ranking members of Crystalline were willing servants of Sombra, and you saw how they acted towards you. Ponies might be able to accept me, but them…” He stared at a blade of grass, deep in thought. “Perhaps… vampires in general are not the ones they are protecting.”

“They might not even be protecting themselves,” I added. “It could be a way to hold control over vampires. You know, ‘Don’t step out of line or we’ll kill you. Here’s why that’s okay.’ I mean, why are they the ones setting themselves up as royalty? How come no one else has tried to challenge them?”

“They have some of the most potent vampiric powers known,” responded Homeguard. “To attack them would be like attempting to attack Celestia.”

“Oh. Great.” I should’ve known. It’s always something like that. “So… if they weren’t around-”

“I do not think I would reveal myself,” said Homeguard. “I am not completely certain that you are not a special case, and my very nature requires the death of others. It is not a situation that tends towards a happy resolution.”

“Well, can’t you just decide to tell somepony, have Hailey see into the future, and then change your mind based on what she sees?”

“It doesn’t work like that,” said Hailey.

I jumped about three feet in the air. “Where did you come from?” I yelled as I got to my feet.

“I was following you two in the woods,” said Hailey. “You never noticed me, and once you started talking about me, I just walked out. Easy.”

“Fine,” I grumbled. “Just… don’t do that again, okay?” I slapped some dust out of my mane. “Why doesn’t it work like that?”

“Well, see, my mind isn’t like a TV, where I can just choose to tune it to whatever channel I want to get visions on.”

“…What the heck’s a teevee?”

“Ooo, right. Future thing. Hasn’t been invented yet. Sorry, forgot you didn’t know that. Anyway, I tend to get visions on important things in my life. But, really, on the whole, it’s kinda sporadic.”

“So lemme get this straight,” I said. “You got visions about me ordering cheese wontons and talking with Crystalline… but trying to see what happens when Homeguard reveals that he’s a vampire to everypony… you can’t see?”

“Fine. In long: visions for stuff more than a day in advance tend to result from decisions with major repercussions. The wonton thing was less than twelve hours away, so that wasn’t hard to see, but I saw you talking with Crystalline, ’cause, I dunno, having your whole fate decided right then is kinda important, and I only saw it once Crystalline decided to come here. But if Homeguard thinks he’s going to make a musical about his vampiness or not based on my visions, then he hasn’t made that decision yet, so no vision, so no decision, so nothing!”

“Well, that’s stupid.”

“You have no idea.”

We kept walking. “Look, you guys,” I said, “even if we don’t tell anypony about you two, I’m in trouble. I’ve got two weeks to come up with a good story for the predator deaths, or else an arcanist is going to come out here. Once she does, it’s only a matter of time until you’re found out.”

“And if the attacks simply stop?” Homeguard said tentatively. “What then?”

“No change. The Court will still want to know what happened out here. Look, I- We need this fast. I don’t want to keep lying to everypony while they’re waiting on me.”

Homeguard and Hailey looked at each other. “Homeguard?” Hailey asked. She twisted a hoof into the ground. “Maybe she’s right, an-”

“We cannot!” said Homeguard. “It is-”

“At least-”

“No. Not while Crystalline still persists. This discussion is off the table.”

“Then you’d better think fast,” I said. “Because we’ll need a story as tight as a drum to keep other ponies away from here.”

“We can talk about it at our house. Let us stop there.”





Homeguard reached across the coffee table and pulled a certain sheet of paper towards him again. “And you are absolutely certain we could not claim it was a splintercat?”

I groaned and rubbed my mane. “Well, maybe, at a big stretch. There aren’t any records of splintercats attacking anything that big, but they are cranky from running into trees all the time. Maybe if… one, I don’t know, turned rabid or something-”

A rat-a-tat-tat as Homeguard quickly tapped the table. “And what would cause it to turn rabid?”

Maybe it was because animals didn’t like vampires, but Homeguard’s knowledge of biome dynamics and taking care of animals would be hilariously outclassed by a sunblasted undergrad. “Bitten by an animal with rabies. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor?”

“When I first became a doctor, bloodletting was still a common practice and perfectly logical. The medical world can move swiftly, and I do not spend every waking second keeping track of the latest discoveries.”

I grunted. After fruitless hours of this, I’d been deprived of what sympathy I otherwise would’ve mustered. “But while a splintercat running full-tilt into an animal would explain the broken bones, it doesn’t do anything for the lack of blood. I can’t think of anything for that, whatever lie we tell-”

“Whatever story we tell.”

“-whatever lie we tell will have to cover that. I mean, the bodies were drained; that’s not the sort of thing that can just happen.” I hung my head in my hooves and groaned. “Son of a bitch, why didn’t you hide the bodies afterwards?”

Homeguard bared his teeth and folded his ears back. “Are you implying that I am responsible for River’s indiscretions? That I should have coddled him, taken care of-”

“It doesn’t seem like you tried very hard to keep the deaths a secret!” I stood up and jabbed a hoof at him. “There were half a dozen before I came! Honestly, what did you do? If anything? Anything at all?”

“I warned him that there would be consequences!” yelled Homeguard, also standing up. “I notified Crystalline of his actions, I repeatedly told him that he needed to be more cautious in-”

“So you talked to him? Great.” I rolled my eyes. “Look, I’m glad that you tried nonviolence, but after he still didn’t-”

“Why did Crystalline do nothing?”

The shift was so sudden it cut me off and took me several moments to realize it wasn’t directed at me. Homeguard was staring off into space, his forehead furrowed in confusion or anger (or maybe both; I couldn’t tell). “Why,” he repeated, “did Crystalline… do nothing?”

“Are… they…” I swallowed and clopped my hooves against each other. “Are they usually prompt?”

“Quite,” whispered Homeguard, still not looking at me. “They act with utmost speed once they hear of a potential leak. Their arrival yesterday was unexpected solely because I knew not that they were aware of you, not for its suddenness. Yet… a vampire not hiding his kills, animals or otherwise-”

The door banged open; Hailey strode in. She tossed me a chocolate bar from under her wing. “Here, Swan. Food for the living. Thought you might need it.”

I did, though more as comfort food than nutrition. I devoured it the way a crow would devour carrion: noisily and with zero dignity. Dignity was for idiots, anyway.

But even as I lost myself in that cocoa haze, I couldn’t miss that Homeguard had started looking nervously at Hailey the moment she walked in the door. Once she thought I wasn’t looking, she trotted up to Homeguard, deposited a newspaper in front of him, and leaned in close to him. They started exchanging hurried, whispered words; I couldn’t pick anything specific out, but I could definitely hear them saying something. Hailey kept tapping on the paper, and Homeguard kept shaking his head. Hailey pointed at me (I quickly looked down), but Homeguard very vigorously shook his head and-

“What’s up?” I asked.

Both Homeguard and Hailey flinched. Homeguard quickly brushed off an invisible fleck of dirt. “Nothing to be concerned about. I do not wish to worry you.”

“And now that you’ve said that, I’m worried.”

Hailey gave Homeguard a Look and passed the paper towards me. A bold headline screamed NUMEROUS DISAPPEARANCES ACROSS SEADDLE; POLICE BAFFLED. “That’s probably Speckle,” said Hailey darkly.

“What?” I skimmed the article. Over ten missing pony cases in the past twelve hours — no leads — all across Seaddle — no similarities between victims — no known motives. “What makes you so sure?”

“Well, look.” Hailey pointed to various parts of the article. “A single disappearance is one thing, but a dozen in one day? Totally a vampire. We’re in the news a lot more than you would think, just not as vampires. And this happens just after Crystalline decides to leave you alone. Too coincidental. Definitely Speckle. She’s up to something.”

“What’s that something, then?” I asked.

“In the past,” Homeguard said, “vampires and covens have warred for feeding grounds. There once was a tactic where a vampire would turn large numbers of ponies at once, convince them she was their friend, and, after sufficient training, unleash them on her rivals, overwhelming them through numbers.”

“A… a vampire army?” Son of a bitch.

“‘Army’ is probably a bit much,” replied Homeguard. He tapped the over ten missing pony cases sentence. “‘Gang’ or ‘posse’ might be more accurate. However, after large versions of this tactic devastated certain sections of Equestria — I believe your history records it as a particularly virulent plague — Crystalline outlawed its use and any further attempts were violently stamped out.”

“Which makes Crystalline ignoring this suspicious,” said Hailey. “If they ignore it. They probably haven’t heard about it yet. And to answer your question, she still wants to get to you about River, so she’s probably hoping her posse will overwhelm us once they’re trained a little.”

“But why would Speckle make-” I caught myself. An army just to get to me. I was never, never going to get a break, was I? “But I’m not even the one who killed him! No offense, but-”

Hailey waved me down. “Doesn’t matter. You’re just a thing to her, a bug to be squished and have its guts smeared all over. You annoy her, so she wants you dead.”

“Super.”

“Velcome to the Vonderful Vorld of Vampires.”

“Do not alarm yourself,” Homeguard said. “Hailey and I are still here, and if this scourge somehow escapes Crystalline’s notice, we shall take care of it.”

My ears went up and I raised my head. “What? You’ll go to Seaddle and stop-”

“Uh, dude,” said Hailey flatly. “Serial killer running around, and he’s a vampire preacher. He cares a lot about the common mare, and if protecting them means laying the smackdown on other vampires, he’s gonna do it. When he goes, I’ll help with the laying, smacking, and downing.” She grinned. “Been too long since I’ve done that.”

“Thank you, Hailey,” Homeguard said with a sigh, “for that riveting description. But she is right,” he said to me. “Just because I myself do not eat ponies does not mean I can tolerate murder on this scale. We have… dealt with similar incidents before.”

“So, if you’re basically swatting other vampires away from their favorite food, how often do you make them drive you away?”

“It is…” Homeguard twitched his ears and rubbed his neck. “Convincing them to not feed on sapients is an uphill battle. Some vampires agree with us, others do not. We win some, we lose some, as is said.”

“And if worst comes to worst and a fight breaks out, you’ll be okay? There’s about a dozen-”

Homeguard smirked. “They will have been vampires for less than a month. Hailey is well over half a millennium old, and I am almost twice that, in addition to our own powers. We will be able to handle ourselves quite well.”

“Good, good.” It was still odd to think of Homeguard and Hailey fighting that many vampires by themselves. They just looked so unassuming. I guess that was how vampires had managed to hide out for so long, anyway. If you looked like a vampire, what good was it to claim you weren’t a vampire?

“You know,” mused Hailey, “‘Vampire Preacher’ would be a totally awesome name for a rock band.”

“Back to possible solutions for our problem here,” said Homeguard. He tapped a page of notes. “There is a chimera about a hundred miles north of-”

I shook my head. “No. Absolutely not. Cascadia’s already ruled that out herself, and the wounds are wrong, anyway.” And so I threw myself back into the grind.
> 16 - The Waiting Game
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I expected Cascadia to pull me aside the next day and drop some bomb on me. “Hey, Swan, we found out what’s up.” “So I said ‘screw it’ and sent a letter requesting the arcanist yesterday.” “I think you’re lying to us. Are you?” But she didn’t so much as look suspiciously at me. All she gave me was a vague question about research, to which I gave a vague answer about nothing yet, to which she gave a vague affirmation about keeping it up.

Clearwater swung by my office before I could leave, but that was to be expected. “I swear to Celestia, Swan. Are you positive you’re okay?”

I almost told her, right then and there. Something told me she could be trusted. She was calm, she was friendly, she knew when not to pry, she was considerate… Stupid Crystalline scriers. “Stressed. That’s all.”

“Over what? Just your job? I mean, holy shit, Swan, you look like you’d collapse into dust if I blew on you too hard.”

Which was pretty close to how I felt. I was lapsing into crunch mode, but without the masochistic pleasure of having anything to crunch on. Due to the nature of our work, rangers don’t have line-in-the-sand deadlines like other jobs. But for me, that just meant that after a week of working on a case, the deadline was always “tomorrow” and I’d throw myself into it with no worry of tomorrow. I’d once been stuck on a problem for almost two months. According to the psychologist during my Court-mandated sessions, I’d been a bad day or two away from a nervous breakdown. Those memories painted a grim experience of the days to come.

Until Speckle was dealt with and we had a story, nonessential bits of my brain would shut down, a short-term safety mechanism designed to keep overstressed ponies from going crazy. I’d start by losing my sense of time; it’d help the long hours of nothing pass by quickly. Next, I’d become less emotional and disengage my own worry over the matter from pure logic. And when the problem was finally solved and I started working properly again, I’d be surprised at how much the world had moved on, at the way I’d aged more than I should have. All because I just couldn’t say anything about vampires.

Fuck keeping secrets.

“It’s complicated. Nothing’s clicking in my investigation, and I- I’m doing a terrible job, here. I didn’t expect to solve this all in a week, but we’ve found nothing. I want to earn my pay.” I grinned, tried to make a joke. “My paycheck comes from your taxes, after all. Do you want your taxes to be wasted on me sleeping in the library?”

For once, Clearwater didn’t look entirely convinced. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t push it. “It’s better than some uses of my tax bits I’ve seen. I know I’ve said this before, but I really think you should get out more. It’s- I dunno, I’ve never seen you just around town. Do you ever get out? At all?”

If I’d just been able to tell her the truth, I would’ve loved it. But I couldn’t, so I didn’t. “Look, I’ve been in crunch before.” Technically, I had, just not this bad. “I’ll be fine once we’ve solved this. And if it’s not done by the end of next week, Cascadia told me she’ll be writing for an arcanist to consider the possibility of blood magic.”

“Well, okay.” Clearwater looked to the left, right, didn’t see anypony, and clicked her teeth. “No offense, Swan,” she whispered. “But… as a friend… maybe you should see a therapist. Seriously, you’re running yourself into the sunblasted ground.”

I wish I could, I thought. “I’ll think about it,” I said.

Once Clearwater was gone, I headed off to Homeguard’s cottage, since we still hadn’t come up with a good story yet. When I looked down at the path, I was sure I could spot the rut I was slowly wearing down into the ground. It was idiotic, I knew, but I felt like I’d been walking to and from it for ages. Even though this was only, what, my third day? Stupid conscience.

When I entered the cottage, Hailey was already waiting for me. “Hey!” she said. “Sorry, but Homeguard’s not available today. He has to work.”

“Great,” I muttered. Then I realized how that would sound to Hailey and twitched. “Sorry,” I said quickly, “I don’t mean anything against you, I just-”

But Hailey just laughed. “Don’t worry, I getcha. Three heads are better than two, right?”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Well, I hope two’s enough for today, ’cause I’ve got a few ideas…”





More and more and more fruitless brainstorming, which had lost most of its intensity by now and lessened to a braindrizzle. There were long bouts of silence where we never said anything to each other as we struggled to come up with ideas. At around noon, Hailey briefly popped out and in to pick up the mail, newspaper, and lunch for me. It was just a sub sandwich, but I was grateful.

I lay on my back on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, chewing on a particularly large leaf of lettuce. I felt like I’d been hitting my head against a brick wall; lots and lots of repetitious nothing resulting in lots of headaches. I glanced over at Hailey, who was looking through one of the books I’d brought and trying to find a good animal to blame everything on. At least she was earnest about it.

I swallowed. “Hey, Hailey?”

“Yeah?”

“If you don’t mind me asking, how’d you become a vampire? Homeguard told me about his history, but he never mentioned you.”

“Dunno.”

“Ha ha, but-”

Hailey swept her wings wide. “No, really. I don’t remember anything at all about being a pony. Kind of a bummer.”

I rolled off the sofa. “Really? Nothing at all?”

“Nope.” Hailey shook her head. “Amnesia’s a total cliché, I know, but my earliest memory is of waking up just north of the Badlands, with nothing except the fact that big animals smelled tastier than smaller animals and an image of Homeguard’s face. It was…” She scratched her head. “Uh… A little over three hundred years after the whole Nightmare Moon thing. But, Badlands. No ponies or vamps for miles. Eventually wandered north and found civilization. Didn’t eat ponies, no matter how tasty they smelled, ’cause whenever I decided to do that, I’d get a vision that ended with me dead or run out of town. Plus, I liked the company.”

I nodded in understanding. “I worked in the Badlands once. Probably the loneliest month of my life.” And it’s one thing to hear that, but quite another to experience it. There’s nobody, pony or otherwise, for mile upon mile upon mile. The world never feels quite so empty as it does out in the Badlands.

“Yeah, yeah,” Hailey said, chuckling. “Anyways, once upon a carriage, Homeguard arrived — he was coming in to serve as a frontier doctor for the next half-decade or so, since the Badlands really needed that sorta stuff. I recognized him from my first vision, attached myself to him, personal stuff that I’m totally not telling you about yet happened, I left when he left, and now we’re ‘brother’ and ‘sister’.”

“Huh. Weird. Did you ever figure out who you were?”

“Nope. Never even looked. I wouldn’t know where to begin. I mean, I just was in the Badlands all of a sudden, I didn’t know anything, and there was no civilization for miles. It’s not like there was a police station I could go to. Especially since police stations hadn’t even been invented yet.”

“Bummer.” I took another bite of my sandwich, swallowed, and asked, “Do you ever wish you did?”

“Eh…” Hailey wiggled her hoof. “Sometimes, usually not. Does it really matter? I don’t even think it mattered back then. It definitely hasn’t hurt me at all.”

“Hmm.” I wasn’t sure how I would act in that situation. I’d probably want to know who I was, really badly, but I took it for granted that I knew who I was. To someone like Hailey, with no memories, the who they were might not’ve mattered all that much alongside the who they are. It might’ve even felt like a fiction, a story told by someone else, if the two “versions” of themselves weren’t all that similar.

And all of a sudden, I was very thankful I wasn’t an amnesiac.

I reached over the table and pulled the newspaper towards me. I glanced at the headline — NO NEW LEADS IN DISAPPEARANCES — and shivered. “If Crystalline deals with Speckle, will ordinary ponies hear anything about it?”

“Probably not,” said Hailey. “The disappearances will stop, the ponies will never be recovered, Seaddle will be paranoid about it for a few years, and then it’ll be like it never happened.”

“What about the ponies who’ve been turned? Will they-”

Hailey cringed. Her ears drooped. “Probably dead,” she said in a low voice. “Crystalline doesn’t really like vamps making an illegal army like this.”

Sometimes, it felt like what little vampire society existed was predicated entirely on violence and death. Maybe not that surprising, given their food source, but yeesh. “What? But they had nothing to do with it, and now they’re not even food! Why-”

“Y’know, Swan I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Crystalline is made up of some nasty bitches and sons of,” said Hailey sharply. “If it were up to me, I’d keep them alive if they wanted to stay alive. But Crystalline… pfft. They say rules are rules, breaking those rules needs to be punished, and that keeping the fledglings alive would be letting the vampire off with a slap on the fetlock. Yes,” she added as I opened my mouth, “even if the vampire responsible was the only one who died. No, I don’t get it either.”

“Damn. Harsh.”

“Remember, they were voluntary servants of Sombra, one of the meanest bastards in Equestria’s history. They learned a thing or two from him.”

Exactly why was Crystalline so obsessed with these methods of keeping secrecy? Every time I turned around, it sounded like their best solution to make ponies stay quiet was to murder them. Sure, three can keep a secret if two of them are dead, but there were better ways. Murder was one of those things ponies noticed. And now they were using it against vampires, too, even though vampires were supposedly so much higher than plain old ponies. You’d think that a bunch of tribalists that zealous would be more forgiving towards their own kind. It was almost like they were deliberately using extreme methods in order to-

Hailey’s voice derailed my train of thought. “Anyway, c’mon. We gotta get back to this.”





When the end of the day finally arrived, I dragged myself back home through a growing rainfall, nothing accomplished. I wondered if I should just walk out and tell Cascadia, “Forget the last week and send for the arcanist now. I’m finding nothing.” It’d be quicker, sure. Things would happen. But whatever happened after that would be on me. I’d be knowingly letting a clueless somepony walk straight into a vampire coven. A nice coven, to be sure, but once the dominoes fell…

I was too burned-out to go back to the station house. I just headed straight to my house, even though at this point, going home wasn’t much of a break from anything else. I kept worrying about… well, everything and couldn’t unwind. It’d gone from being a place of relaxation to yet another area where I loafed around and did nothing. Maybe I needed to ask Levanta to teach me how to draw; she’d kept at it a lot longer than I thought she would.

But that was just sweeping it all under the rug, ignoring the inevitable. I felt like I was drowning, caught up in a whirlpool where I couldn’t do anything to save myself. I’d tried asking Homeguard if I could tell Clearwater, but he shot me down before I could even finish my first sentence.

Fuck keeping secrets.

I shook myself off on the porch. The rain had gotten bad just as I’d reached home, and even with my jacket, I felt damn near soaked through.

I was inside, hanging my jacket up, when Levanta spoke up from the living room. “Hey, Mom?” she said. “Just FYI, you got a letter. It’s on the table.”

“Really?” I asked as I squeezed water from my mane. “Who from?”

“Dunno. There wasn’t a return address.”

Huh. Weird. Was I getting junk mail already? It usually took longer than this. Well, it had to happen sooner or later, and it wasn’t like I was trying to stay off the grid.

As Levanta had said, the envelope didn’t have a return address, and the lettering of my name and my address was perfectly neat: perfect curves, perfect lines, perfect angles. Somehow, the flawlessness made my skin crawl. When I ripped open the envelope, a single slip of paper fluttered out. I went for the paper first. It was a letter, a single line in the same neat writing:



Have fun explaining what comes next.



I turned the letter over, even as the hairs of my coat started standing on end. Nothing on the other side. I looked over everything again. No name. Something about it all made my stomach turn over. But without anything to latch onto — no name, no address, no context, no clues, no nothing — it began sliding out of my mind.

I’d almost forgotten about it when the doorbell rang around an hour later. Cascadia was on my doorstep, flicking her ears and tail, breathing heavily. She kept shifting her weight and looking over her shoulder. She spoke before I could ask. “The- The monster-” She swallowed. “The monster killed Clearwater.”
> 17 - Picking up the Pieces
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’d located Clearwater’s body just after sundown. She wasn’t home for dinner, Pomeroy went out to look for her, and he found her.

As I approached the crime scene, I tried forcing myself into the detached, clinical mindset of an investigator. Then I saw her. She was lying on the side of the road, all twisted limbs and broken bones. Nothing was sitting at the correct angle. One of her eyes stared out at me, as vacant as if the taxidermist had just finished on it. There was no blood, in spite of the ragged wound near her carotid. I had to be thankful that I wasn’t the only one on the verge of a breakdown. Delta’s police department was small and close-knit; of course they’d be hit hard. Even Cascadia seemed to be fighting to hold back tears.

I lied to the officers, of course. “I still don’t know what did this.” I had to look them in the eye to talk to them. I got lucky and they didn’t notice anything. I was so close to telling them. So close.

What made it even worse was the knowledge that it was partially my fault. Yes, Speckle may have been the one to actually do the killing, but I should’ve let Clearwater know what was going on. I should’ve told Homeguard and Hailey to keep track of some of the other ponies in Delta. I should’ve bashed Speckle’s and River’s heads in and staked them the first night I saw them. I should’ve known it was a vampire the second I heard the animals had been drained of blood. I should’ve I should’ve I should’ve…

Fuck keeping secrets.

The next day sort of blurred. The station house, cops and fireponies alike, was very quiet. Everypony, including me, went through the motions. I heard plenty of whispers. I suspected that the entire town had heard of the death long before it went out in the papers. The cafeteria felt very empty over lunch break. I can’t even remember what I did for most of the day.

When my shift was done, Homeguard caught up to me. “Hailey and I both fervently apologize,” he said. “We should have known Speckle would try something like this. It is in the nature of vampires to hurt others, and with you so closely associated with River’s death…”

I didn’t know how long he talked. I only knew it didn’t really help, not even when Homeguard told me it wasn’t my fault. “There was nothing you could have done to prevent Speckle from targeting her. She is a mindless brute, the lowest kind of vampire, and you are but food to her. Should you have tried to stop her…” And on and on. It’d probably reassure me somewhere down the line, but right then? No. If I had been able to tell Clearwater what was going on, she could’ve been prepared. Maybe she could’ve survived.

When I got home, the first thing Levanta said to me was, “Brook… told me what happened to Clearwater. She- She was your friend, right?”

Brook. A young mare who didn’t have a mother anymore, thanks to me. I nodded. “Yeah.”

“I… I’m sorry.” And then she hugged me. I hugged her back, but I didn’t cry. Not quite.

I saw a newspaper. No leads in Seaddle. Damn it.

The next day: another haze. I heard that Clearwater’s funeral would be tomorrow. I didn’t have any actual work to distract me. I didn’t even have any fake work to distract me; Homeguard had to serve a shift at the fire station and, as sexton, Hailey was digging Clearwater’s grave. She left behind a big bottle of wine and a note of apology at the cottage. I downed the whole damn thing over several hours.

At some point, I remember meandering out to the graveyard just so I wouldn’t be alone in Homeguard’s cottage. Hailey worked as she talked. She should’ve known, she said. She should’ve been watching, she said. It should’ve been obvious, she said. Speckle must be able to avoid psychic detection, she said. I told her she didn’t need to apologize. I didn’t blame her, I said. She didn’t do anything wrong.

I saw a newspaper. More disappearances in Seaddle. Still no leads. Damn it damn it damn it.

Finally, Clearwater’s funeral came. A lot of the town turned up. I was acutely aware of just how few ponies I recognized. Clearwater had been right; I had been working too hard. Even Levanta seemed to have more ponies around her, sitting in a group of Brook’s friends. I felt just sort of there. I didn’t even have a eulogy to give her. It wouldn’t have the same amount of power compared to what the other ponies had said. I’d only known her for a week.

After she was buried, I didn’t have much to do or anypony to talk to. I just sort of stood around, trying and failing to look involved. Ponies passed me by; I offered vague words whenever I could. There was only one pony that really talked to me.

“Swan,” whispered Cascadia. She wasn’t crying, but her every movement seemed tight, forced, and calculated. “Please, please find the bastard that did this.” It was somehow worse than her blaming me.

If I couldn’t tell anypony the truth, I’d go nuts in days.





I lay in bed, studying the patterns in my ceiling. I wasn’t sure whether I couldn’t sleep or I was forcing myself to not sleep. I almost wished I’d have nightmares; Princess Luna could pop into my dream to fix it, I’d be able to spill the beans to her, and she could… do something. The what didn’t really matter at this point. Something had to be done. What that something was, I didn’t give two shits.

I rolled over to the other side of the bed, hoping the mattress was a little softer there. No luck.

Sheesh, how often had I repeated myself about “doing something”? I felt like cud, chewed up, swallowed, vomited back up, and chewed again, over and over and over. A constant back and forth without getting anywhere. Just like this case. Whatever. I wasn’t the kind of pony that could lounge around. “Doing something” was what I needed.

I felt warm. I kicked my sheets off. I felt cold.

I was crammed in a carriage for a long trip without knowing where I was going or how long it’d take to get there. I had no notion of progress beyond looking back. A deadline for a nearly impossible project was inexorably approaching and I’d barely started working. I’d just wasted two or three days wallowing. Speckle was getting to me, and I had no way to get to her.

I needed something to do, and I was lying in bed with nothing to do.

In the end, I just lay there and let the seconds tick away. I can’t remember when I fell asleep, but then I was walking down a road in the forest, Clearwater at my side. The forest beyond the first row of trees was so dark that I couldn’t see anything beyond angry red eyes staring out at us.

“You look strange,” said Clearwater. “Do you see anything?”

“No,” I heard myself say.

Clearwater stopped and looked at me. Tendrils of darkness reached out from the trees behind her. “Really?”

I watched the shadow wrap itself around her neck. “Really, I don’t,” I heard myself say.

“Liar,” Clearwater said, and she was ripped from my sight.

I was standing at a grimy sink, scrubbing soap off my hooves. They were clean, but I wanted them cleaner. I turned on the faucet to rinse; blood flowed. The stench made me sick to my stomach and my guts churned. Bending over the sink, I retched and coughed up teeth.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said.

I looked up into the mirror. Clearwater’s reflection was staring out at me. Her eyes were purple instead of green. For a second, my heartbeat picked up, but then I remembered that Luna’s eyes were blue. But did that really matter in a dream?

“Quit whining to yourself,” said Clearwater.

“Huh?”

“Don’t ‘huh’, you know darn well what I’m talking about!” Clearwater reached out of the mirror and slapped me. Somehow, it hurt a little. “It. Is NOT. Your fault. NOTHING you did caused me to die. Did you hit me?”

“No,” I said, rubbing my cheek, “but-”

“Did you break any of my bones?”

“No, but-”

“Did you drain my blood through a curly straw?”

“No, but-”

“Did you consciously say to yourself, ‘I know! I’ll get River interested in me so he’ll want to kill me so Homeguard and Hailey will have to kill him so Speckle will go guano crazy so she’ll kill Clearwater!’?”

I gritted my teeth. Wasn’t I allowed to say anything in my own dream? “NO, but-”

“Did ANYTHING you do directly contribute to my death, as opposed to failing to prevent it?”

“NO! But-”

Clearwater leaned out of the mirror again, grabbed me by the shoulders, and shook me. “Then why the bleep is it your fault? Feel bad about it, grieve me, mourn me, exhume me and paint me with clown makeup, but by Luna, remember that it’s not your fault!”

I pulled myself from her grasp and looked down to avoid meeting her eyes. The sink was very clean all of a sudden. “But I…” I mumbled. “I… could’ve-”

“Yeah, you could’ve. She still would’ve. Maybe she would’ve some other way. But you didn’t, and she did, and what’s done is done, so QUIT IT. You’re like a broken record, except that record’s whiny rather than musical.”

For being my mind’s image of Clearwater, she sure didn’t talk like Clearwater. But her voice sounded like Clearwater’s. And maybe it was just the sound of her saying those things, real or not, but I felt… not just forgiven, but absolved. If the pony who was affected the worst didn’t think it was my fault, why should I? I swallowed. “Th-thanks,” I said. “Sorry.”

“Anytime,” Clearwater said with a grin. “I’m here whenever you need me.”

I raised my head from the sink. “Dreams aren’t always this straightforward and self-explanatory, are they?”

Clearwater giggled. “Hey, don’t ask me why your mind’s acting like this. I’m just a dream. A somnial hallucination. Your subconscious must be really sick of you.”

I grunted. It made too much sense. My conscious was growing sick of me.

“Hope you sort this all out. Adios, amiga.” Clearwater saluted and walked out of the mirror.

“Hey! Wait!” I yelled. I pushed at the mirror, but it was solid. “Don’t go yet! I need to tell you-” But I didn’t get a response, and I knew I wasn’t going to. I sighed and looked out the window. An upside-down Princess Celestia swam by through the green sky, pausing only to say, “She’s right, you know.”

I twitched and woke up, panting. My coat was pinned to my skin with cold sweat. I rolled over and dragged myself through the dark house to the bathroom.

As I toweled myself down, drying off the sweat, I couldn’t stop thinking about the dream. I was borderline lucid; had Luna come into my dream to tell me what I needed? It hadn’t sounded much like her; was it my subconscious trying to tell me what I already knew? Or was I just imagining things? Did it actually matter?

I wrapped the towel around my tail and pulled as much water out as I could. I’d never been one to assign meaning to dreams; they’d always seemed to me to be semirandom images spat out by a brain running on low power. But if my subconscious was flat-out telling me to quit whining, chances were I needed to quit whining.

When I took a look in the mirror, I recoiled from myself. My reflection looked haggard, with sunken, slightly bloodshot eyes and a scraggly coat and a mane even I thought was too messy. Had my guilt really taken that much of a toll on me? Or was I still stressed from before Clearwater’s death? I’d never had a break since that night with River.

I looked out the window. The Belt of the Morning Star was barely visible above the trees, a line of soft pink below the night sky. Just before seven, I guessed. I shocked myself by not immediately knowing what day of the week it was. Today was… Sunday, right? I’d run into River on Saturday-Sunday night, talked with Crystalline on Monday, nothing on Tuesday, Clearwater died on Wednesday… Yeah, today was Sunday.

Whatever the cause of my dream, it was right. I needed to stop blaming myself and move on. I needed to stop looking at the difficult tasks ahead of me and moaning, “This is impossible!” I needed to tackle them. I stared in thought as the sky slowly reddened. Eventually, I hammered out a to-do list for at least the next day or so.

What could I do? Stay in the loop. I kept getting surprised by vampire stuff. Not anymore; I’d ask for Homeguard and Hailey to tell me everything they thought might be important about vampires. Powers and abilities they might not have covered, other aspects of vampire society besides Crystalline, history, anything. I thrived on knowledge, and if I could help it, I wasn’t going to let myself get led around simply because Homeguard didn’t want to tell me something. And if he thought I’d be frightened, I’d just tell him that story about the basilisk.

What could I do? Get creative. Throw together some really out-there story for Cascadia and the rest of the police. Make it so outlandish they wouldn’t question it. I’d been too focused on the story sounding reasonable. After all, I was the expert, and if I said, say, a muroni had been driven down from the Frozen North, who were they to question that? (And that specific idea wasn’t a bad one, really.) I’d need to run it past Homeguard, first — I only had a week to get the story “written” before Cascadia sent off for an arcanist.

What could I do? Fix that damn shed. I’d been putting it off for a week and I still had Clearwater’s nailgun. I needed to get some planks.

Well, first I needed to get some more sleep.
> 18 - Life Goes On
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Mist had been scheduled for the late morning. It was thinner than usual, but it felt like it was clinging to my coat and the little chill it had worked its way into my bones faster than I expected. I wished I’d worn a coat as I stepped into the hardware store.

It wasn’t busy, not this early in the morning. Fine by me. I walked through the nearly-empty aisles, vaguely searching for the panels. I’d measured, and I hoped the store had the size I needed. After I’d trotted down a few good-looking aisles and not found any panels, I resorted to zigging and zagging up and down them.

As I walked, my thoughts about Clearwater began to nag at me. It was easy to say, “Clearwater’s death wasn’t my fault”, but it was quite another to believe it. I was beginning to believe it, although slowly, and the guilt of not telling her enough still kept bubbling up.

I turned down aisle 7 and almost ran into Cascadia. She jumped in surprise and my hooves slipped on the linoleum as I tried to backpedal too quickly. “Um, hey,” I said.

“Hey,” said Cascadia. She was balancing a few planks and a hoe across her back, keeping them steady with magic. She tapped one of the planks. “Garden stuff.”

“Yeah. I’m repairing a shed. You wouldn’t happen to know where the wood panels are, would you?”

“A little bit before the end of this aisle,” Cascadia said, pointing. “Can’t miss them.”

“Great. Thanks.” I stepped around her and trotted down the aisle.

“Hey, uh, Swan? Are you feeling okay?”

I glanced behind me. Cascadia was looking at me with… concern? It was a strange emotion on her face. “Yeah. Why?”

“You looked half-dead at the start of the week, then Clearwater died and you practically became a zombie.” Suddenly her expression shifted to one of suspicion. “Do you feel responsible?”

Wow. That obvious. I hadn’t been trying to hide it, after all. “W-well…” The guilt I’d been trying to suppress flooded back. “K-kinda, yeah.” Finally, something I could tell the truth about to her, even if it was just a half-truth. “It- If I’d- found the- whatever- she’d- still be-”

“And if I’d found the whatever, she’d still be alive.” Cascadia leaned the hoe and planks against some shelves. “I know the feeling. It’s hard to get over, isn’t it? But you’re still here. You can still do things. If you feel like you should’ve done more for Clearwater, do something good for somepony else. Anything good. Give blood if you have to, there’s a drive in a week or so. I know it sounds… well, stupid and irrational, but it works.”

Give blood? How would that help with Clearwater? I couldn’t see any connection between the two, but Cascadia sounded like she knew what she was talking about. If it’d help… “Why? What makes you say that?”

Cascadia chewed her lip for a second, then said, “Did it myself, once. Short version: used to be a Royal Guard. Got in a combat situation. Close friend died while trying to save her. Felt like crap. Swept barracks out of desperation to do something good. Felt better. Stilled mind enough to come to terms. It’s… I don’t know.” She waved a hoof vaguely. “It’s like… you think there’s only so much goodness in the world, and that pony getting hurt means you have extra goodness you don’t deserve, so once you do something to get that goodness out, you stop beating yourself up enough to know that it isn’t your fault instead of just telling yourself that it isn’t your fault.”

A better idea than anything I had. Even better, a reason why I should do that. Death wasn’t unheard of among rangers, but it was still rarer than one might think. I’d never had a teammate die on the job with me. My plan for dealing with whatever grief I’d experience had been, “Get over it.” Now that I was experiencing that grief, I had no idea to the how. Cascadia’s plan, as vague and general as it was, at least gave me something specific — “Get over it like this.”  — and a reason why it worked. Worth a shot, if nothing else worked.

But even more than that, Cascadia implying that Clearwater’s death wasn’t my fault pushed my guilt down more. She’d known Clearwater for… years, most likely, and she was responsible for the safety of Delta, Clearwater included. If anypony had a right to blame me, it’d be her. Yet she didn’t. She didn’t look like she was even thinking of blaming me. Even if she didn’t know where the fault truly lay, she knew it wasn’t with me.

Cascadia slung her tools over her shoulder again. “You know, if… you want a… day off or something-”

“No!” I said quickly. Like that would help me now. “No, I need to keep at this. For Clearwater, if nothing else.”

“Look, Swan. I want complete honesty. Are you positive you feel well enough to work?”

Complete honesty. Yeah, right. “Yeah, yeah, I can work.”

“Because I’ve got no issue with you taking a few days off to de-stress. I don’t want to be responsible if you have a nervous breakdown. Delta’s got a spa, if you’re interested.”

“Spas aren’t really my thing.”

“Something else, then. But if you don’t need it…” Cascadia shrugged. “Want me to at least write for that arcanist early?”

“No, thanks.”

“Alright. I’ll be at the station, banging out some reports if you need to talk. Take care of yourself.” Cascadia walked a few paces away, then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Seriously, you look like shit,” she said flatly.

Given what I’d seen in the mirror not a few hours ago… yeah.





I got lucky; one of the precut panels in the store was just the size I needed and even on sale. I was given a little cart to help take it home after paying a deposit on it. Good thing, too; I had no idea how I’d carry it otherwise.

I was about halfway home when suddenly Homeguard and Hailey were walking beside me. I managed to avoid tripping over myself. “Swan,” Homeguard said. “A word, if you would.”

“Hit me.”

“In yesterday’s newspaper, there were reports of more disappearances in Seaddle. Hailey and I presume them to be Speckle, either still turning new vampires or getting food for the ones she already has.”

“And Crystalline still hasn’t noticed, right?”

Homeguard sneered. “Either that, or they are deliberately ignoring her. They were already willing to kill you on her word. Whatever the reason, Hailey and I have decided that her rampage needs to be stopped.”

“Buuuuuut,” said Hailey, “since we’re kinda-sorta your bodyguards now, we decided to talk to you first. I mean, we probably shouldn’t go running off to Seaddle on a whim, even if Speckle seems to be confining herself there; seriously, we haven’t seen a vampire once in the past week. We’re only gonna go if you’re okay with it.”

My pace faltered a little. “Well, that’s… I like the idea, but… Hang on, let me think.” On the one hoof, if they took out the Seaddle vampires, it’d be one less thing I had to worry about. Personally, one less thing to worry about would be amazing. On the other, it’d be leaving me wide open for Speckle to do whatever she wanted. On the other other, aside from Clearwater, Speckle hadn’t tried anything directly against me. At least, nothing Homeguard and Hailey had told me about, but I was sure they’d let me know. Right? On the other other other, maybe she hadn’t tried anything because they were here. On the final other, she was in Seaddle, watching over her vampires. She had no way of knowing they were leaving. “Fine,” I said. “Go ahead. Let’s just get it over with.”

Hailey flapped her wings once and hoof-pumped in the air. “Yesssss! Vampire slaying! We never get to do enough vampire slaying!”

“Because it is a crude method of argument,” snapped Homeguard. “It is simplistic and persuasive only in the most brutish ways. If we can persuade the fledglings to abandon their taste for pony blood, we shall shelter them to the best of our abilities.”

“Yeah. Because fledglings have so much self-control.”

Homeguard flinched and didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to me and said, “Very well. Hailey and I shall depart for Seaddle immediately. If all goes well, we shall be back well before sundown, with the coven — and possibly Speckle herself — dealt with.”

I folded my ears back in confusion. “Wait. You’ll go to Seaddle, hunt down a vampire coven you don’t know the location of, and still be back by this evening?”

“Yes.”

“…Seaddle’s over a hundred miles away.”

Homeguard cocked his head. “Yes. And?”

I blinked. “…Well, okay, then.”

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Hailey asked with a giggle.

“Kinda, yeah.”





With Homeguard and Hailey gone, I dragged the panel to the backyard and propped it against the shed. I dug a crowbar out from one of the boxes and was looking around for Clearwater’s nailgun before I remembered it was still inside. I trotted through the house and pulled the nailgun from the front closet. On the way back, I glanced into the living room to check on Levanta. She looked fine, deeply involved in some sketching. She was still using that fetlock pencil holder. Was she relying on it too much, or was she still learning to manipulate pencils with her mouth and I just never saw it?

Right before I headed out the back door, I paused. Levanta ought to be safe — I was just outside and could get to her in seconds — but just in case- “Levanta? If you need me, I’ll be out back.”

She didn’t look up from her sketching. “Yep. Got it.” At least somepony was relatively carefree.

Outside, it was beginning to spit a little, but I needed to get this done. I took another good look at the shed, and I swear, it was like the hole in the wall had gotten worse since I’d checked it and the rot was spreading. Earth ponies are strong, true, but I kicked out the bad parts of the panel like they were made of cardboard. A lot of angry, homeless bugs were soon skittering around. Once I’d gotten the bulk of the bad wall removed, I pried the rest away from the frame with a crowbar. Thankfully, the frame was still solid.

It was bizarrely intoxicating, working like this. Maybe because I was doing something concrete. Maybe because I wasn’t thinking about Clearwater. Maybe because I could kick something as hard as I wanted and nopony would stop me. All I knew was that I settled into a groove, dismantling the wall, that let me think.

Speckle wasn’t exactly lying particularly low, was she? Turning all those ponies right in Seaddle. Just because the cops couldn’t find her didn’t mean Homeguard and Hailey wouldn’t. Heck, Hailey had figured out it was her the moment she saw the first headlines. That meant they knew where Speckle was (ish) and track her down. Somehow. I wasn’t really sure how sharp, exactly, vampire senses were. Could they smell another vampire in a crowd?

Pulling every part of the old wall off wasn’t too hard, but getting the old nails out took the better part of an hour. They were in deep, and the wood didn’t seem to want to give them up. Once the frame was smooth again, I placed the panel against the frame and worked the nailgun onto my hoof. It was an intuitive model: strap it to your fetlock, twist your hoof in just the right way, and whchunk. It was a very satisfying whchunk, too, something sharp and hard-hitting. After putting two nails at the corners to keep the panel from rotating, I began working my way around the edge. I wasn’t great at it and kept misjudging where the frame was at first, but once I had a good idea of the frame’s location, I think it went well enough.

So was that just Speckle’s plan? Make an army of vampires, then come for me? She’d evaded Homeguard and Hailey so far. She knew how to be stealthy. And did she really need, what, a dozen? All at once? Surely five or six extra vampires would be good to take on two. She wasn’t even turning the bums, the kinds of ponies nobody would miss. Making it this big and this obvious was a special kind of stupid where you had to go out of your way to do work. Honestly, it was like she wanted them to go to Seaddle and hunt her down.

One satisfying whchunk was instead an unsatisfying whpkt. Out of nails. I flicked the empty magazine out and eventually figured out how to get a full magazine in and lock it. Whchunk. Still worked fine.

I paused. Although… if Speckle was planning on them leaving, then-

They were gone-

And I was-

Oh, Celestia, no.

And that was when Levanta screamed.
> 19 - Backlash
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Levanta’s screams were still echoing around the area when I bolted for the house. In my hurry, I didn’t even bother removing the nailgun. Oh, Celestia, no, no, no. Not Levanta. How could I have been so fucking stupid to forget her? I thought she’d be safe with me close by, but-

Half a second before I blew the back door off its hinges, I heard someone yell, “Stop!”

I faltered, dug my hooves into the wet grass, slid, and hit the door. My cheek throbbed as I put my hoof on the knob. “What do you want?” I screamed, almost sobbed.

“Come in slowly,” said the voice. I might’ve been imagining things, but I thought I recognized Speckle. “We’re in the living room. Charge me, and I’ll turn your daughter.”

But- that meant Levanta wasn’t dead yet! But- that meant- I blinked back tears and cautiously pushed the door open. My hooffalls were heavier than usual, like I was trying to let Speckle know I was coming slowly.

I turned the corner. Speckle was in the center of the room, pinning Levanta beneath her. Levanta was whimpering, squirming, trying to get free — I could hear her wings beating fitfully — but Speckle held her effortlessly. She smirked. “Hey.”

My mouth was dry and my knees were knocking. “Wh-what do you want?”

“M-Mom?”

“Oh, you know what I want,” Speckle said, snickering. “You’re going to sit there and you’re going to watch as I drain your kid.”

“Don’t touch her!” I screamed shrilly. “Please! I- I’ll-”

“Too late for that.” Speckle leaned down and licked Levanta’s ear. Shocked by the sudden touch, Levanta redoubled her squirming. She got a hoof free and awkwardly punched back over her shoulder. It was feeble, haphazard, panicky. Even if the punchee hadn’t been a vampire, it would’ve been useless.

The pencil strapped to her hoof, though, drove right through Speckle’s eye.

I don’t know if it actually hurt or if it was pure reflex, but Speckle screeched, twisted away, and clapped a hoof to her eye. It was enough for Levanta to wrench herself free; a few flaps took her to the other side of the room in less than a second. And suddenly, there was nothing standing between me and Speckle.

I charged and slammed into Speckle before she could recover. The impact carried us all the way to the wall and we hit hard. One of her front legs was sticking out awkwardly and mine was near hers and it was the one with the nailgun attached and before I knew it, whchunk, I’d nailed her leg to the wall.

Speckle recovered quickly, snapping at my throat before I’d pulled the nailgun away. I pushed off her. Her teeth missed me by an inch. She tried to charge, but her leg was still pinned. Her head snapped around to look at the nails. She snarled, pulled. I jumped forward again. I shoved her other front leg against the wall. Whchunk.

I fell back. Speckle thrust her head forward, gnashing her teeth. She didn’t have the reach. I rolled over and swiped both her rear legs off the floor. The two nails in her front legs were the only things holding her up and I pressed the nailgun against her rear legs- Whchunk whchunk whchunk whchunk. Speckle screamed in rage and twisted. No leverage. I jumped to my feet again and batted her head aside. First one leg — whchunk whchunk — then the other — whchunk whchunk — and any leverage she had was gone.

I backed away, nailgun up. Speckle twisted and pulled. No dice; she had nothing to brace against. Super strength alone can only get you so far. She went limp, then looked up at me. With her destroyed eye and her crooked, lopsided grin, she looked damn near animalistic. “Heh. That’s a new one. Not bad.” She spat. “For a pony.”

I kept the nailgun aimed at her. “Keep your mouth shut, you-”

Levanta screamed. She was on the other side of room. Shaking. Pressed against the wall. Wide eyes. Shrunken pupils. Chest heaving. Wings twitching. Her gaze flicked back and forth between me and Speckle. “W-what’s g-going on?” she asked.

“Go to your room,” I said. I looked back at Speckle, resolving to not look away until Homeguard or Hailey returned. I couldn’t risk her getting away. “Lock your doors and windows. Don’t let anyone in except me. And if someone tries to get in, scream bloody murder.” I didn’t know how well it’d stop a vampire, but at least I’d know where Levanta was and she wouldn’t have to look at her own mother threatening a pony with a nailgun. Probably not the best choice at the time, but I was stressed.

“M-Mom? What-”

No, no. I didn’t have time for this. “Go. To. Your room. I can’t explain right now, but I promise I will later. Right now, go to your room.”

“I- I don’t-”

“Go to your sunblasted room!”

I immediately knew it was the wrong thing to say, but before I could take it back, I heard Levanta gasp and stumble up the stairs, maybe sobbing. I blinked a few times and wiped my eyes.

“Ooo,” said Speckle. “Damn. I barely touched her and I hit a nerve with a sledgehammer.” She snickered. “Yeah. Her blood’s gonna taste good.”

My regret drained almost immediately. There was a reason I was talking to Levanta like that, and that reason was nailed to the wall in front of me. I waved the nailgun in her face, just out of reach. “What makes you think you’re getting out?”

Speckle grinned. “It’s only a matter of time, really. You’re mortal, I’m not. I can wait. And when I get out of here…” She licked her lips. “I’m gonna drain that kid of yours dry, an-”

I nailgunned her in her good eye. “That’s for Clearwater.” Then I nailgunned her in her bad eye, just to be safe. “That’s for Levanta.” Nopony gets away with killing my friends. Nopony threatens my daughter.

The fact that she had nails sticking out of her eye sockets didn’t bother Speckle much. She was moving like she didn’t feel the pain. Given some of the things Homeguard had said, she probably didn’t. “I don’t need eyes,” she said, smirking. “I can still smell you just fine.” She sniffed exaggeratedly. “And let me tell you-”

I jammed the nailgun under her chin, forcing her head up. “I will not let you tell me. Shut up before I nail your jaw shut.”

She twitched, then laughed, but I could hear she was nervous. “Come on. Like you really-”

Whchunk. “Yeah. I really.” Honestly, vampire or not, you really shouldn’t argue with somepony who’s shoving a nailgun in your face.

Speckle made some muffled sounds, but with the nail pinning her jaw shut (and probably going through her tongue to boot), nothing coherent. I dropped on my rump and settled in to wait for Homeguard or Hailey to return.





I waited. And waited. And waited.

It was almost familiar for me. In stalking animals, you sometimes need to sit and wait and wait and wait. I had my terrible thoughts on Levanta to mull over, but I’d had terrible thoughts to mull over before. I waited. Speckle sometimes tried to move, but she had no slack. She tried growling at me once. Once. I nailgunned her through the throat.

I wanted nothing more than to run upstairs and hug Levanta and reassure her that everything was going to be okay, but that would mean leaving Speckle alone, and I didn’t want to take my eyes off of her for a second. For all I knew, she might decide to just rip off her legs (somehow) and let them grow back. Could vampires do that? Whatever the case, I wasn’t leaving until Homeguard or Hailey returned. As much as I hated it.

I waited. It felt like hours. I risked a glance at the clock; more than half past noon. Were Homeguard and Hailey coming back at all? It sounded like there were a lot of vampires in Seaddle, even if they were inexperienced. Maybe they couldn’t-

The door banged open and Homeguard was in the room. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked. “Our trip did not go as…” He swiveled to stare at Speckle. “…planned, so… we… suspected…” He blinked twice. “How… Why is there a vampire being crucified on your wall?”

I tossed the nailgun aside. “Meet Speckle. She attacked Levanta and me when I had a nailgun and she let herself get distracted for a second. It was enough.”

“…That merely raises further questions.”

“I’ll answer them later. Right now, I need to tell Levanta what’s going on.” I made for the stairs.

In a fraction of a second, Homeguard was blocking my way, a hoof on my chest. “No,” he said angrily. “You will not tell your daughter why Speckle is here.”

“Yes, I will.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“You will tell her nothing,” said Homeguard.

“I’m telling her everything,” I said solidly.

“Give me one good reason,” snarled Homeguard, “that you should tell your daughter about us, expose us to the world, risk bringing Crystalline down upon us, destroy the secret we trusted you with.”

“Because she needs to know just why she got attacked in her own home and her mother had no problem attacking the assailant with a nailgun.”

Homeguard looked indignant, opened his mouth, and said nothing. He made a confused sort of sound, as if his lack of response puzzled him.

“You might think ignorance is bliss,” I said, “but it’s also terror. Levanta is not blissful.”

We stared at each other for several long moments. Homeguard stepped aside. I didn’t say anything to him as I climbed the stairs.

When I reached Levanta’s door, I put my ear to the crack. I couldn’t hear much; a few gasps, some heavy breathing. I knocked. “Levanta? It’s me. Can I come in?”

“N-no!” sobbed Levanta. “I- I don’t- M-Mom, what the fuck d-did you DO?”

“I can explain. It’s complicated.” I jiggled the knob. Locked. “Please, Levvi?”

Levanta whimpered. I couldn’t imagine what she was thinking. Was she scared of me? Did she think I would hurt her? It was hard to blame her, to be honest. I’d kept too much from her.

“Please,” I said. I pressed myself against the door. “I- I swear I’ll explain everything. It’s- I’m not going to hurt you, and-” Well, if she wasn’t thinking that before, she was now. Fuck, what was I supposed to say? “In my- In my job, I- found something that- that I shouldn’t have, and- and- P-please, Levanta, I- I-it’s… Everything’s okay n-now, I- I’m so sorry, and I n-need to t-talk to you…”

I heard a swish of wings and a faint click as the door was unlocked. I rubbed my face and cautiously pushed the door open. Levanta was on the far corner of her bed, trembling, curled in a fetal position and shielding her face with her wings. She peeped out between two feathers; what little I could see of her face was tearstained, her eyes were still wet, and her ears were pinned to the back of her head.

I didn’t move from the doorway. “I’m sorry, Levanta,” I said, “but please. Trust me.”

A moment’s hesitation. Levanta nodded jerkily, uncurled, and folded her wings back up, too tightly to be natural.

I sat in the corner of the room furthest from her. I didn’t know why. “Before I can tell you anything,” I said, “you need to know that everything I’m going to say is true. Okay?”

Levanta jerked her head up and down.

“We were attacked by a vampire.”

After a second, Levanta laughed bitterly. “M-Mom, I’m not a foal any-”

“Everything I say is true.” Levanta needed to accept this. She had to. What would she think of me otherwise? I wasn’t sure I could live with that. “She was a vampire. Her- Her boyfriend was the monster killing Delta’s animals. He was a vampire, too. She blamed me for his death, and- she was trying to make me suffer.” I swallowed. “She was the one who killed Clearwater.”

“S-so…” Levanta rubbed her eyes. “You… nailed her through the legs…”

“But didn’t hurt her,” I said quickly. I was vaguely aware of how rump-covering that sounded. Nothing for it. I’d rather sound clueless than psychotic. “Not really. I don’t think I could’ve done it to a normal pony.”

Levanta’s chest moved in and out a lot as she breathed. Her eyes were still on me, but I got the feeling she was lost in thought rather than looking at me. Her ears twitched and her wings slowly untensed. “M-Mom,” she said, and swallowed. “What, exactly, i-is going on?”

“Settle in,” I said. “This is going to take a while.”





I told her everything important, and a few things unimportant. How could I not? She was my daughter and she was nearing adulthood. I couldn’t lie to her now. I told her about Homeguard and Hailey. I told her about River and Speckle. I even told her about Tributary and Rebirth and Crystalline and Sombra. When she had questions, I answered them as best I could. Whatever fear she encountered in the future, it was not going to be because she was underinformed.

Levanta had a blank look on her face the whole time. I’d probably looked the same when Homeguard had first told me he was a vampire. At least she wasn’t skeptical. When I finally finished, she looked down at her bedspread for a few moments. “So…” She looked up. “Th-that mare… She really was a vampire.”

“Yeah.”

“…You fought a vampire for me?”

“Yeah. You’re my daughter.”

Levanta crossed the room in a blur, and before I knew it, she was hugging me tightly. I hugged her back and started sobbing as my emotions bubbled over. Tears ran down my muzzle and soaked her coat. She was safe, she was okay, she understood everything. I couldn’t have asked for more.

“I…” Levanta sniffed. “I love you, Mom. You kick ass.” She squeezed me tighter.

“Language, Levanta.” Stupid motherly instincts.

“Are we gonna be okay?”

“Now? I think so.”

“W-what about that Crystalline group? Won’t they-”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so, as long as you keep quiet. We’re- I convinced them to leave me alone earlier. If they come around again, maybe I can do that again.” I wasn’t lying. I was done lying.

“C-cool.” Levanta attempted to let go, but I held onto her for an extra second.

When I released her, I said, “I need to talk to Homeguard soon. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” Levanta wiped down her eyes. “I think so.”

“Good. Stay in your room, okay? I’ll be back.”

Downstairs, Homeguard was looking Speckle in the “eyes” intently. Every now and then, I heard him whisper some word or another. “Ritual. …Sombra. …Esteemed Rebirth. …Sac-”

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Interrogating her,” replied Homeguard. “Even when you say nothing, the mind dredges up relevant thoughts and memories and knowledge and brings them to the forefront when it hears an associated word. It is possible, with training, to avert this. Fortunately for us, Speckle does not have this training.” He smirked at Speckle, even though she couldn’t see him. “Your mind is astonishingly poorly controlled. No discipline in the slightest. I merely had to say ‘Crystalline’ for you to think everything about them I wanted to know.”

Even with her jaw nailed shut and another nail through her throat, Speckle was still able to snort derisively.

“She has proven most invaluable, but I do not think I can glean any further information from her,” said Homeguard. “She only knows so much.”

“So what are we gonna do with her?” I asked. “We can’t just let her go, can we?”

“No. We cannot.” Homeguard trotted into the kitchen, unscrewed a table leg, and trotted back. Before I knew what he was doing, he had thrust it through Speckle’s chest. She didn’t even have time to scream. Almost immediately after the tip pierced her skin, her entire body decayed into ash in less than a second; her remains fell to the floor, leaving behind a strange arrangement of nails in the wall.

I shivered and swallowed. Monster or not, I’d just seen another sapient being die. There was something wrong about it. “You… were a preacher, right?”

“If she refuses to change, I shall not waste my time trying to make her,” replied Homeguard. He was already screwing the leg back in. “I know a lost cause when I see one.”

Cold. I shivered again. Still, at least now, I wouldn’t be looking over shoulder, trying to watch out for-

Hold on. There was something wrong with this situation. “So where’s Hailey?” I asked when Homeguard returned.

Homeguard bit his lip and looked away. “We… ran into complications. One of the fledgling vampires surrendered to us. Hailey is taking care of her.”
> 20 - After-Action Report
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

She couldn’t’ve been more than 14.

She was a wiry pegasus with stringy hair and a dirty cap she clutched to herself like a talisman. Her mouth was clamped shut, as if she was afraid to breathe. She was whimpering, rocking back and forth in the center of an improvised wooden cage. Hailey had thrown it together with planks and nails and put a tarp over the top to keep the rain out.

“Son of a bitch,” I whispered. I tried to inch closer than ten feet to the cage, but Homeguard held up a leg to stop me. “She’s just a kid. Why would Speckle do something like that?”

“A blow to morale. Psychological tactics,” said Homeguard. “Can you imagine attempting to fight an opponent of that age? Possible sociopathy. There is little limit to what you can do when people are merely tools to be used.”

“Fuck,” I muttered. “That’s-” I was so sickened, so disgusted, so morally repulsed that I couldn’t find the words. It was wrong, plain and simple. “What’d you say her name was? Bay Vanner?” I took another step forward.

Homeguard pushed me back again. “Yes,” he said with a scowl, “and for the last time, do not approach her. She is already stressed enough; do not make it worse by letting her smell you. You should not even be here!”

“Yeah, well, I am, and I’m not leaving.”





The moment I’d heard about Homeguard and Hailey protecting a vampire, I’d insisted on going to see her.

“No,” Homeguard said. “You should not see her. It is for the best. She should not be near ponies just yet.”

“Oh, stop protecting me,” I snapped. “I can-”

“It is not for your protection,” Homeguard said quickly. “It is for hers. She is still young and does not yet have a complete grasp on her instincts. She still needs instruction. Swan, through no fault of her own, the second she smells you, she will want to kill you. While Hailey and I could restrain her if she escaped, do you really wish to cause her that pain?”

“Well, I-” To be honest, I didn’t really have a “right” to see the new vampire. Why? Just because I wanted to? But I soon had an answer for that. “Just once,” I said. “I need to know what’s going on with her, and I want to put a face to her.”

Homeguard exhaled halfway between a groan and a sigh. “Very well. But just this once, until she gains better control.”

I immediately told Levanta that we were safe, but I needed to head out for a little bit. As we ran for Homeguard’s cottage, I gasped out, “So what- happened- in Seaddle?”

“Hailey and I scented vampire trails, presumably Speckle’s, all across the city,” Homeguard said. “Tracking them was a trivial manner. But when we found their source, we found naught but ash. All the fledglings had been murdered, either staked or burned.”

I tripped in shock and Homeguard had to stop to let me catch up. “Dead? Just like that?”

Homeguard nodded gravely. “Unfortunately. They were loose ends. They knew of Speckle. They had to be disposed of.”

“Son of a… Okay, so- what about- this vampire?”

“We are unaware of how she escaped notice. Perhaps her power is a form of invisibility. We certainly missed her on our first inspection of the hideout, and it was only through her alerting us to her presence that we noticed her at all. She begged us for help, pleaded us to take her with us. She was terrified, still thought Speckle would return and kill her, and had nowhere to run.”

“That- doesn’t sound- like a- vampire.”

“She is… younger than you are expecting.”

“How young?”





Hailey returned from her hunting trip, dropping from the sky with a dead cougar over her withers. “Still warm,” she said, shrugging the body off. “Ought to be a good first meal for her.”

Part of me wanted Homeguard and Hailey to sugarcoat it. Bay was still fourteen, after all. But I knew that really, what was the point? It’d get torn away anyway, like a band-aid. I swallowed and locked my knees.

Homeguard lifted the body onto his shoulders. “Thank you,” he said. “Would you like to come in, or…?”

“I…” Hailey nervously clicked her teeth, glanced at Bay, then looked away. “I… don’t think I’d be much help. I… I’m not-”

“I understand,” said Homeguard. Hailey dashed back inside the cottage. Homeguard carried the body to one side of the cage; for the first time, I noticed a door, jury-rigged from blanks, ropes, and bungee cords. He pulled up a pole, which I guess was serving as the “lock”, and opened the door. He stopped two or three yards away from Bay and placed the cougar between them. Bay didn’t seem to notice, keeping her eyes shut and not even so much as swiveling her ears towards him.

“Hello, Bay,” said Homeguard.

Bay opened her eyes, which were very vividly red and quite wet. “H-hey,” she mumbled.

“Speckle told you what you are, right?”

“Yeah. A- A vampire.” She sniffed in a movement detached from motivation, like an alcoholic habitually reaching for the bottle. “I can smell the pony outside. Why does she- smell like- like that?” I twitched and took a few steps away from the cage.

“It is a part of who you are,” responded Homeguard. “A distasteful part that can never be quelled, most unfortunately. You must learn to ignore it. Until then, you must-”

“Yeah,” choked out Bay. She waved a hoof around the cage. “I- I know. Hailey told me.” She sobbed once; it took all my self-control to stop myself from running in to comfort her.

“Right now,” said Homeguard, “you know that she can lessen the pain you are feeling, yes? Fortunately, so can this.” He pushed the cougar’s body towards Bay. “It may not seem as appealing, but you must drink of it, rather than of ponies.”

Bay looked at the body. She licked her lips, then flinched and turned away. “I- I can’t,” she whimpered. “It’s- But I- I shouldn’t- I was-”

“Listen to me,” Homeguard said softly. “It is not your fault. I was no better than you, once. For now, follow your instincts. I do not expect perfection the moment you begin your new life.”

Bay blinked at Homeguard, her eyes still glistening. She nodded stiffly and approached the cougar. Feeling the need to give her some privacy, I turned away. The sounds were messy, tearing, wet. I shivered. Eventually, the noise subsided to an uneasy sucking.

Homeguard spoke. “It feels better, does it not? Whenever you consume blood, regardless of the source, your pain shall withdraw temporarily. It-”

“I- I wanna go home.”

I cringed. Homeguard took a moment to respond. “I- I am sorry. That is impossible.”

“I- I know.” Bay’s voice was just barely holding back sobs. “I- I just- How do you stand it?” I turned back around; she pressed her hooves to her forehead and keened, a sound that pierced through the air. “It hurts.”

“I know.”

“When’s it gonna stop?”

“…Never.”

I’d thought Bay had been barely holding it together before. When her only reaction was a tiny wail, I realized she was so broken there wasn’t much left to break down. Coming here was a mistake; just not for the reasons Homeguard had assumed. I couldn’t hold myself any longer. I trotted up to the cage and put my head at one of the holes. Homeguard gave me an angry look, but didn’t say anything. “Hey,” I said. “Bay.”

Bay sniffed, then twitched and quickly turned away, hanging her cap over her nose. She mumbled something. I couldn’t tell what.

“It feels bad, but you can get through this.”

Bay looked over at me. I forced myself to stare into her sanguine eyes. After a moment, she flinched and looked away again. “You…” she mumbled, “you don’t know what it’s like.”

I have a teenage daughter. I’ve heard all the “you can’t imagine what I’m going through!” malarkey. Something about Bay’s voice told me that this wasn’t malarkey in the slightest. It wasn’t whiny. It had a… deep undercurrent that you shouldn’t hear from somepony that young. She wasn’t telling me what it was like because she genuinely didn’t know what it was like. “No,” I said. “I don’t.” I pointed at Homeguard. “But he does. Please, please listen to him. Trust me. He’s smart. He’ll help you get through this.”

Bay didn’t move for a moment. Then she swallowed and whispered, “Okay. I- I’ll try.”

Homeguard glanced at me and nodded briefly. I nodded back and headed inside the cottage. I’d seen enough.





Hailey was staring intently at the wall, her head twitching back and forth. She kept flicking her tail and muttering to herself. I cleared my throat. “Um. Hailey?”

Hailey’s eyes refocused and she turned to me. “Oh. Hey, Swan.” She stood up and flexed her wings. “Trying to force a vision. I’ve got a headache, and that usually means something super big’s about to go down, so I want to see it as soon as possible, and…” She shrugged. “Plus, I don’t like headaches.”

“Oh. Does it work?”

“Dunno. Probably not. But it gives me something to focus on.”

“Right. So, uh, did you learn anything from Bay? Homeguard wasn’t exactly clear on that.”

“Kinda. It’s weird,” said Hailey. “You’d think Speckle woulda had to know we were in Seaddle before she started killing the fledglings, but from the approximate time Bay gave, the massacre started, I dunno, maybe half an hour after we left, and we weren’t even three-quarters to Seaddle yet! And Homeguard said Speckle popped in around noon and said hi, right? Well, to get there at that time and not have us smell her, she woulda had to leave just after we left.”

“Can vampires have more than one power? Maybe she’s also a scrier,” I started to say. What I got out was, “Can va-”

“Never seen it,” interrupted Hailey. “Don’t think it’s possible. Unicorns still have their magic, but that doesn’t count, and she was a pegasus, anyway. Besides, she left before all the fledglings got deaded, so she wasn’t the one to kill them, anyway!” She started pacing. “Obviously, she had help. Somevamp who could scry us and was totally onboard with risking Crystalline potentially dropping the thunder on their heads.”

An uneasy idea came to me. I stood one of my hooves on its edge and twisted it. The second I opened my mouth, Hailey twitched. “Well,” I said, “does Crystalline have all the scrying vampires?”

“I think so,” whispered Hailey. “Please, please let that not be true.”

“Well, if-”

Homeguard banged the door open. “I have done what I can for Bay. I hate to leave her, but we — all of us — need to talk. And, Hailey? You were right. Speckle’s power was a form of psychic cloaking. I could not perceive her mind until I actually saw her. I would not be surprised if her power was blotting her out from your visions, if not preventing them from forming entirely.”

“That’d kinda make sense. Totally didn’t see anything about the vampire army coming, even though I shoulda.”

“Very well. Now, about Bay-”

I coughed. “Um, yeah, about that…” I whirled on Hailey. “You locked her in a cage? What were you thinking? She’s only-”

“Well, I don’t know!” yelled Hailey, spreading her wings and flailing her legs. “I panicked! I don’t know how teens work! It was the first thing that came to mind! It was just something to hold her until we come up with a better idea that’s less dungeony! She needed something non-pony to drink and I had to be sure she wouldn’t let her instincts get the better of her and run off while I was gone! When she has control, if she wants to spend the next year punching my face in, I’ll give her tips for maximum punchage!”

“With Speckle dead,” added Homeguard, “at the very least, we do not have to spend all our time protecting you. We let her out, watch her while she’s out, and be available if she wants to talk.” He glanced over his shoulder and muttered, “Which may still be quite some time.”

Homeguard and Hailey were now probably in the pool I’d been in just last week: a lot of things happening at once when they’d never happened before. I had some reflexive responses, but I bit my tongue. Now wasn’t the time for that.

Homeguard eyed me, as if I was going to respond, but when I didn’t, he changed topics. “I interrogated Speckle when I arrived at Swan’s house, and what I found was… intriguing. She and River seemed to have been examining Delta for some sort of… ritual.”

Some part of me already knew where that was going. A weight settled into my stomach. “It wouldn’t happen to involve pony sacrifice, would it?” I wondered what my life was like that that didn’t surprise me at all.

“Yes,” responded Homeguard. “She was voluntarily unaware of the true nature of the ritual, so as to prevent it from being discovered in case her mind was read. Which proved to be prescient.” He smirked. “River was similarly unaware, although he had better control over his thoughts, hence why I only learned of this from Speckle. They were both testing the waters to see how much trouble would have to happen in rural areas such as Delta to garner a response from the Court.” He bit his lip and tapped his hoof on the floor. “I cannot say what Crystalline thought of the results. I am unsure if-”

“Hold up,” I said. “They were working for Crystalline, right?”

“I am aware of what you and Hailey think,” said Homeguard, “and… while it would explain much, we ought not to make assumptions.”

“Right. Okay.” It seemed a bit too coincidental for me, but if it was just a coincidence, I had one less thing to worry about.

“Either way, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about them here any more, though,” said Hailey. “Ever since you popped in and started hanging around here, Delta’s been an awful lot of trouble for them. It’s not like-”

Then her eyes unfocused and she stared off into the distance. She inhaled sharply and went stone-still. Homeguard’s jaw dropped and he also froze. For five seconds, neither of them moved.

“Uh, guys?” I asked nervously. “What’s going on?”

“It is-” Homeguard stammered. “They- They are-”

“What? What? Who?”

“It’s Crystalline,” Hailey choked out. “They’re coming to kill us. All of them.”
> 21 - Bad to Worse
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Crystalline’s coming?” I whispered. “Here?”

Hailey blinked and refocused. “Less than a week,” she said. “Five days, I think.”

“Why so long?” asked Homeguard. “Did you see?”

“I, I dunno.” Hailey waved both of us off. “Gimme a moment.” She rubbed her temples and stared off into the distance again.

“This is revenge, isn’t it?” I asked Homeguard quietly. “We killed off two of their vampires, so now they’re going to kill us and all of Delta just because.”

“I would imagine so,” whispered Homeguard. “Presumably performing their ritual at the same time.”

“Sun blast it. How many of them are there?”

“I- I cannot remember the exact number, but… slightly less than two dozen. Perhaps twenty.”

Twenty. Twenty sunblasted vampires, all coming here, all ready to kill every single pony in Delta. Holy-

Homeguard and Hailey stiffened again. “Ooooooh, fuck,” said Hailey. She kept staring at the wall. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-”

“They- They cannot,” whispered Homeguard. “They cannot. Do they know of the risks? They- No. No!”

“Hey!” I yelled. “What’s going on? Normal pony here, remember!”

“You know why it’s taking them so long to come to Delta?” Hailey said dully. “They’re waiting for a transformation to complete. They vamped the chimera north of here.”

“A- A chimera?” I shrieked. “They’re turning a chimera into a vampire?” Motherfucker, sunblasted stars above, holy and damned princesses past and future, sweet harmony, shitfuck. This was going to Tartarus so quickly I could barely keep up with it.

“It’s taking longer to turn than a pony,” said Hailey. “Big body, I think. More blood they need to convert. But yeah.”

Son of a bitch. Vampires were bad enough. Chimeras were bad enough. Put them together, and I was in for a world of hurt. Chimeras were already big, tough, and almost unstoppable if they got going. Add in near invincibility on top of that, and… well. Heck, the last time I’d faced a chimera, I’d-

The last time…

The last time I’d faced a chimera.

A strange feeling came over me. Part of the reason I was scared of vampires was because I didn’t know them. But chimeras? I was a ranger; of course I knew chimeras. Their multiple heads were their greatest weakness, if you could exploit it. Unless they were particularly focused, it made them argumentative with themselves, easily distractible as each head tried to take control. If you kept moving, they had a hard time bothering you. Heck, if you caught them at a bad time, you could subdue them with a chair, a flute, and cheese. They were already bloodthirsty, so no real change there. Of course, a vampiric one would be harder to kill — and since the recommended method for killing a normal one was still the “shove a lead-coated spear down the cat’s throat and poison it” technique used by Commander Hurricane, that was saying quite a bit. But I’d dealt with a chimera or two. Even if I needed help, I could do this. I really could.

Hailey nervously drummed a hoof on the ground very, very quickly. “Okay, okay, um.” She licked her lips. “Need clear head. Visions. Going out. Be back soon.” And she shot out the door before I realized what she’d said.

“No, no, no…” Homeguard paced back and forth. “They- cannot- We do not have time for this! They cannot know what they are unleashing! But- Rebirth- No, no!”

“What about Rebirth? Is it about her power? You never did-”

“Rebirth can brainwash people with but a touch,” said Homeguard darkly, “force them to agree with her. After she is finished with them, they cannot deny the truth as she sees it. That may be why she has held power in Crystalline for so long in spite of being… eh… impulsive.”

“And if she brainwashes the chimera into serving her…” I ran a hoof through my mane. “Okay, um, I might be able to handle the chimera,” I said. “I, I’d need your help, but I’ve faced chimeras before.”

Homeguard’s ears went straight up. The corners of his mouth twitched, like he was almost smiling. “You have?”

“Well, yeah. I’m a ranger, aren’t I? Didn’t I tell you about the time I punched one of them in the faces?”

“I- assumed you were exaggerating!”

I shook my head. “Not really, no. It was- And before you say anything, yes, it was a fully-grown, healthy chimera. Not a vampire chimera, but, still.”

“That-” Homeguard nodded. “That is fortuitous. Was the fight difficult?”

“Yes- No- Not- Let me put it this way: it’s not easy, but with you or Hailey at my side, I’m sure I could do it again. Even accounting for its vampirization.” If worse came to worst, we could dismember it to make it easier to stake or burn.

“Good. How-” Suddenly, Homeguard locked up, his jaw dropping as he gave the thousand-yard stare to one of the walls. “Oh, Celestia, no,” he whispered. “No, no-”

Half a second later, Hailey charged back into the cottage, her pupils very small. She looked like she ought to be sweating. “So, heh heh, um…” She licked her lips. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

My spirits plummeted. Of course. I was on a high right now; I needed something to bring me back down to earth. Otherwise, I might be content with my life. “Bad news,” I said.

“That ritual River and Speckle were scouting out for? They’re gonna kill all of Delta to rejuvenate Sombra.”

The last few weeks had made me prone to believing the unbelievable. My mouth went dry and everything around me felt cold. Sombra, the first vampire, who’d single-hoofedly brought the Crystal Empire under his sway. He couldn’t be brought back. Fuck, no. This just wasn’t fair. I did my best to swallow. My saliva congealed in my throat. “Okay,” I asked hoarsely. “And the good news?”

Hailey giggled nervously. “That’s the only bit of bad news.” Which was as much as we could hope for. “Um… More visions. Maybe. Be back.” She was gone again.

Desperate for some form of… sanity, I turned to Homeguard, but he was still as unmoving as a statue. I cleared my throat. “She- She can’t be serious… right?” I laughed nervously.

“I’m afraid so,” Homeguard whispered, not moving his gaze an inch.

“But- But Sombra- Sombra was killed. He was exploded. He’s dead.”

“He is a vampire. So long as part of his body remains, it can be used to regenerate the whole. Why do you imagine he was turned to shadow, rather than killed or imprisoned? The Princesses tried those to no effect. Converting him into a shadow was the only method that seemed to work, and they had hoped the isolation would drive him mad, rendering him harmless. Had they waited another week, I would have arrived in Canterlot and told them what I knew. As it was, although they searched for him in the hopes of turning him back and ending him once and for all, he could not be found.”

“But- he was-”

“Perhaps some small part of him remained after the blast, such as his horn. Crystalline would search for years to find it, if necessary. They were loyal to him.” Biting his lip, Homeguard tapped his hoof on the floor. “This… would explain much of their activities. If they were expecting him to return, somehow, then keeping vampires in a constant state of paranoia over discovery would leave them ripe to fall under Sombra’s leadership. He had always claimed vampires ought to rule over ponies. Once word of his return begins to spread, vampires will fall in line under him, if only to avoid hiding any longer.”

“Sun blast it.” I began pacing. “You’re, you’re over a millennium old. Do you have any vampire friends that can help us? Or just vampires that want to destroy Crystalline?”

Homeguard laughed bitterly. “Even the strongest of friendships would be tested against a force of this might. Should they fight alongside us, they would only die, either during the fight or as punishment for fighting afterwards. More likely, they would wait until the fight is over and strike Crystalline while they are still vulnerable.”

“Fucking great.”

“And that is presuming I could find them, convince them, and bring them back here in time. We have but days to do that.”

“Shit shit shit…” I stared at the floor passing by beneath me. We — me, Homeguard and Hailey, Levanta, Bay, all of Delta — were dead. Sombra, back from the dead. I couldn’t imagine the kind of devastation he would wreak on Equestria. Assuming he stopped there. We had, what two vampires and me capable of fighting against an army of almost two dozen? We needed more vampires to have a hope of-

No. Not necessarily more vampires. We needed more people who would fight for us, regardless of species. So maybe- “We need to tell Cascadia,” I said. “Get some help from her. Cops, woodsmares, adventurers, anything. We can-”

“No,” Homeguard said. Somehow, I could tell it was a knee-jerk reaction, not something he’d ever truly thought about. His voice was weak, somehow. “We- cannot do that. We- should not- worry her. No, s-she does not need to know this.”

His declaration hit me like a slap to the face. He couldn’t be pulling this stupid crap, not now of all times. “You don’t want to tell her?” I gasped. “But- why? I mean- She’s the sheriff! Yes she does need to know this! She’d rather worry than be surprised!”

“And when she learns that Hailey and I have been lying to her for years,” Homeguard shot back, “I doubt she will be particularly inclined to listen to us. She may accuse us of attempting to spread fear for-”

“For what? You’re paranoid! You’ve got all these mays and mights and have you ever tried opening up to ponies? You yourself just said Crystalline was full of crap! It’s like you-”

“I have not tried because, should the situation have proved less than ideal, the consequences for myself and Hailey could have been death. I do not-”

“Death? Really? For the love of- Give me a break! You’re practically invincible, sun blast it! The only things that can kill you are, what, fire and stakes? And they don’t know that yet! Even if they drive you out of town-”

“I cannot be certain of how they would react! It is more prudent to prepare for the worst, rather than the best! Ponies are easily swayed by mob mentality, and should even one or two turn against me or Hailey, we-”

I was damn near seething. For a millenarian, he was ridiculously closed-minded. How many times had we gone over this? “So, what, you’re gonna just sit back and let Crystalline massacre Delta and bring back Sombra? Or did you really think you could protect the entire town without any of them knowing?”

There’s a certain expression everyone has when confronted with undeniable facts. I was beginning to recognize it on Homeguard. It’s slightly slack-jawed, with eyes not quite focused on you. Both ears are tilted forward. It’s almost like they got slapped in the face (which is probably true, in debate terms). They freeze on it for a second or two, then they pull back and look slightly to one side. I’d expect them to blink more often, but being a vampire, Homeguard didn’t blink much.

“Well?” I asked.

“I was-” His ears twitched and he pawed at the ground. “-planning on- drawing Crystalline away from… Delta.”

“Two vampires leading away twenty. Uh-huh.”

“Well, I-” he said. He folded his ears back and looked away. “It is- more- complicated than-”

“More- More complicated? Well, yeah it’s more complicated, everything is, but you can’t let that stop you from trying! You need-”

“And if she should not accept us-”

And just like that, with Homeguard failing to even consider the possibility of telling Cascadia, only looking at the potential for failure, I was done. “Fuck it,” I muttered. “I’m telling her.” She’d said she was at the police station, right?

Homeguard bristled and his ears went straight up. “No. For the final time, absolutely not. You-”

The door suddenly banged open, and Hailey slid in. “Homeguard,” she said quickly, “I just had an idea. I need another set of hooves like right now at the bone cave.”

Homeguard glanced to the door. “I shall be with you shortly,” he said quickly. “We are almost done in here.”

“No, ‘right now’ means right now!” yelled Hailey. “Come on!”

Right before running out the door, Homeguard said to me, “You shall not — you shall not — tell Cascadia about this.”





“So let me get this straight,” Cascadia said flatly. “The monster that’s been killing our animals is River, who’s a vampire. Except ‘is’ should be ‘was’, because he’s dead now.”

“Yes.”

“Killed by Homeguard and Hearty Hail, who are also vampires. And they’re trying to stay as moral as possible by drinking animal blood instead of pony blood, but they hid the bodies afterwards in that cave you found.”

“Yes.”

“And River was trying to only drink animal blood, too, but eventually couldn’t take it anymore and tried to hunt you, which was why Homeguard killed him.”

“Yes.”

“But he was the boyfriend of essentially a vampire hitmare, and she ran wild across the countryside, scoping you and the nice vamps out, trying to get revenge.”

“Yes.”

“And she’s the one who killed Clearwater, making her wounds as close as possible to the animals’ to make life miserable for you, as well as the Seaddle spree killer.”

“Yes.”

“Then, when Homeguard and Hailey went to Seaddle to deal with her, she slipped past them and tried to go after you, but you killed her with a nailgun and a table leg.”

“Yes.”

“So now her boss is pissed, and in a few days, she’s bringing her vamps in, complete with a vampire chimera, to destroy Delta out of spite.”

“Yes.”

“And, in the process, resurrect King Sombra himself, who was also a vampire.”

“Yes.”

Cascadia blinked and cocked her head. “…That explains so much.”

I didn’t know what Homeguard would think of this. But I was well past caring. Fuck keeping secrets.
> 22 - Out in the Open
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Vampires invading Delta,” Cascadia whispered to herself. She snorted. “That’s a new one.”

“Hailey said we have four or five days,” I said. “And she-”

“Can see into the future, you said that.” Cascadia was taking this a lot better than I thought she would be. I’d expected her to be slack-jawed, unresponsive, skeptical, just in some way unhelpful. Instead, she was staring at the ceiling, drumming her hoof on her desk, deep in thought. She said, “So. Weaknesses. Fire and wooden stakes, right? But not garlic or holy water or silver. And the fire needs the whole body to be destroyed, while the stake needs to go through the heart.”

“Right.”

Cascadia didn’t take her eyes from the ceiling for a full five seconds. When she looked back at me again, she was grinning slightly. “We’ve got plenty of repeating crossbow harnesses. Do arrows count as stakes?”





“I… I am not…” Homeguard swallowed as Cascadia’s eyes bored into him. “I… would assume so… It is the- the wood that is important, not the design. And, and it must penetrate the heart.”

“So if we remove the arrowheads and sharpen the shaft to a point…” Cascadia said to herself. “Not bad, but… Vampires don’t wear armor, do they?”

For a guy who was supposed to be able to read minds, I’d never imagined Homeguard could be so flustered. Of course, Cascadia showing up on his doorstep apropos of nothing and promptly grilling him about vampires was a bit of a shock mind reading couldn’t really prepare you for. “Well, they- I am unaware of- I do not think so,” he babbled. “At least- Particularly not- I do not believe Crystalline assumes ponies are capable of wounding them, so I do not see why they would bother with armor.”

“Hrrng. Probably a bit much to ask for, but just in case. Swan, you wouldn’t happen to own a blunderbuss, would you?”

“Huh?” It was the first time in the conversation I’d even been acknowledged.

“A blunderbuss,” Cascadia said casually. “One of those pony-portable wide-bore cannons. I want to load it up with stakes and shoot it like a sunblasted cluster bomb at the vamps. That many stakes, even if none of them hits the heart, it’s gotta slow them down a little. Maybe we can improvise a cannon.”

“That- might certainly be- possible,” said Homeguard. It almost looked like he’d been left in Cascadia’s dust, thought-wise, and now was struggling to catch up. “If- we can-”

“Do you know how many vampires are coming?”

“I- Twenty. About. Probably. In addition to the chimera.”

“Let’s say twenty-five, to be safe,” muttered Cascadia, tapping the floor with her hoof. “Plus the chimera, of course. And they’re fast, right? Fast enough to run us down if we tried to send somepony for help?”

“More than fast enough,” said Homeguard. “And they have their scriers to watch the borders at all times. That’s not even supposing…” He swallowed. “That whoever you found would believe you soon enough to send sufficient help back.”

“Crap. Okay, we’ll need to alert the town ASAP, get everypony helping…” Cascadia’s voice degenerated into mutters I couldn’t make out.

I gave Homeguard a pointed Look. He cringed slightly. “She is… certainly… taking this well,” he muttered. He looked away, rubbing one leg against another. “Perhaps I… misjudged the circumstances.”

Which practically gave me a coupon to say “I told you so” at him for as long as I lived, but now wasn’t the time. “What can I do to help?” I asked Cascadia.

“Just let me think,” said Cascadia. “I need a moment or two.” She began pacing around the room.

“You seem to be taking this rather well,” hedged Homeguard.

“Homeguard,” said Cascadia. She cleared her throat and held herself high. “I am the Sheriff of Delta. I have one job: protect the ponies living here. From animals, from criminals, from monsters, even from vampires if it comes down to it. Granted, I…” She flicked her ears and twisted one of her legs a little. “…never actually thought I’d be protecting them from vampires, but vampires are still threats. I’m a cop. I serve and protect.”

“And… the… truth about me?”

“We’ve all got skeletons in our closets. You’re not hurting anypony, you’re keeping yourself from hurting anypony, so I don’t think it’s a big deal.”

“…Ah. I- assumed-”

“Never assume. It only makes an ass out of you and me. Apologies to donkeys, but yeah.” Cascadia looked at nothing in particular for a second. “Say, can we go for a walk? I want to ask you about vampire powers and motion makes me think better.”

“Of course,” said Homeguard. “Come.” He motioned Cascadia out the door.

Once they were gone, Hailey — who’d been so still and quiet I’d nearly forgotten she was in the room — clapped her hooves and rubbed them together. “Welp! That went well.”

“I figured it would.” I paused. “You knew what I was going to do, didn’t you? Seconds after I decide to tell Cascadia, you run into the room and pull Homeguard away to let me go.”

“If Homeguard had stayed the course, we would’ve all died,” Hailey said flatly. “Or only told Cascadia when it was too late. Then you make your decision, and I get another vision where our odds of survival go up a lot. I mean, like, a looooooot.”

“Was the cave just the first thing that came into your head?”

“Yeah. It was far away, which I figured would give you enough time, so…” Hailey shrugged. “I kept a tight control on my thoughts for a while — it’s just kinda something you learn when living with a mind reader — but he was piiiiiissed when he realized what I was doing. I managed to persuade him to let it happen, ’cause things couldn’t possibly get worse, right?”

“You shouldn’t’ve said that. You were practically begging for things to get worse once you said that.”

“I can see the future. I’m the only one alive allowed to say things like that.”

I chuckled, then said, “Uh, listen, I should get back to my house. Levanta’s probably worried about me, since I ducked out so quickly, and, well, she needs to know about… what’s coming up with Crystalline.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. If we need you, we’ll come get you.”





My mind felt like it’d done a hundred-meter dash, flopping about limply just doing ordinary things like thinking. It’d entered some sort of safe mode; I stopped reacting emotionally to events and started just doing whatever it took to survive. Maybe my freaked-out-o-meter had rolled over and reset to zero. Now, I was just thinking, “Vampires coming to kill me. What’s the best way to stop them?” Stakes wouldn’t be a problem, not in a logging town like Delta. Cascadia could organize the town better than I ever could. Delta outnumbered Crystalline by… I wasn’t sure of the exact number, but I was guessing over a dozen to one. Hailey could see the future and anticipate the likely ways Crystalline would attack. Homeguard could track them with his mind reading. And Crystalline was made up of a bunch of tribalist idiots who’d probably underestimate us since they saw us as not much more than food.

…You know, put like that, the situation didn’t seem quite so hopeless.

I tried not to get too upbeat. Overconfidence would be murder in the coming days, and if I thought we could ride out the storm just because one or two things had gone our way, we’d be sinking in seconds.

I’d only just opened my door when Levanta screamed, “Mom!” and jumped on top of me. I staggered and bumped against the wall as she hugged me tightly, whispering, “I- I was so-”

“Hey, hey,” I said, running a hoof through her mane. “I’m fine.”

“I know.” Levanta rubbed her head against my neck. “I- just-” In a flash, she disentangled herself from me and stood in the stiff, self-conscious, “you didn’t see that” pose of embarrassment. “I knew you’d be okay,” she said.

“Well…” I really, really didn’t want to unload even more onto Levanta, but there was nothing else for it. I couldn’t allow her to be ignorant now. “Remember that Crystalline group? They… They’re coming to try to kill us.”

Her expression didn’t change, but Levanta’s wings slowly went limp as she stared; eventually, the tips touched the floor. “…Oh, come on!” she yelled. “For fuck’s sake!”

“Language.”

“But… seriously! I mean…” Her voice suddenly dropped. “A-are we gonna have t-to run?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “We… might not even be able to. But we have five days before they get here. The sheriff thinks we can fight them off. And Hailey — she’s the one who can see the future, remember — she hasn’t collapsed into despair, so… hooves crossed.”

Levanta nodded glumly. “Yeah,” she mumbled. Her head fell and she kicked at nothing. “I guess.” She looked up, almost hopeful. “I- I’m not even seventeen yet. Is… it possible that-”

“A few days ago, they turned somepony into a vampire who was only fourteen. They wouldn’t think twice about killing you.” Breaking things easily: my specialty.

Levanta’s eyes widened. “F-fourteen?” she whispered. “T-that…” Her wings tightened and her legs gave out beneath her. She collapsed to the floor, shaking; I was instantly at her side and hugged her close.

“She alive,” I said, as if that would make it better. “She’s here, and Homeguard and Hailey are taking care of her. She… I don’t know if she’ll be okay, but she, she’ll live.”

“…Can I see her?”

“Levanta…” I pushed her away and fixed her with a stern look. “I don’t want you questioning her about what it’s like to be a-”

“N-no.” Levanta shook her head. “Not, not for that. It’s, I was scared crapless when I came here, and I had things way better than she did. She, she probably needs a, a friend or, I dunno.” She folded her ears back and looked away. “Just… something I thought of,” she mumbled.

She had a point, I was forced to admit. I still had trouble imagining what Bay was going through. She’d been so utterly uprooted that nothing around her was remotely familiar. The faces were those of strangers, she was surrounded by forested wilderness instead of a metropolis, she was probably missing her parents, and that wasn’t even getting into whatever vampirization felt like. But, as much as I hated keeping her isolated, Homeguard could relate to her. He’d gone through vampirization, I hadn’t. He knew what was best, or maybe just least bad.

Right?

“Sorry,” I said. “But since she’s still a young vampire, Homeguard doesn’t think she has full control over herself yet. He doesn’t want her smelling pony blood and going into a frenzy.”

After a moment, Levanta nodded, but I recognized the glint in her eye. She’d been getting into her rebellious phase before Thunderhead’s death had derailed it. Now that she was settled in, she must have been sliding back in. I suspected she’d try to see Bay before too long. Of course, I’d have a hard time keeping her from sneaking out — even if I nailed the doors shut, she could just fly away out her bedroom window.

“Look, if we’re still around when all this is over, give her, I don’t know, a week, and then I’m sure you’ll be able to see her. Okay?”

Levanta nodded again. I could tell she believed me, but that glint didn’t go away. Already, from experience, I knew that attempting to dissuade her more forcefully would only make whatever idea was growing in her head take root faster. Stupid teenage contrariness.

She must’ve noticed my look, or at least realized the expression she was making. She quickly coughed and said, “S-so, um, is- there- anything I need to do to help prepare for Crystalline?”

“Not yet,” I said. “We’re still waiting to hear from-”

Somepony knocked on the door; before I could get to it, Cascadia had pushed it open. Behind her, she was pulling a cart full of fliers. “Swan. Any chance you could help us with this?”

I glanced at Levanta. “Wanna help?”





It was a simple flier, plain black text on a plain white background: TOWN MEETING TONIGHT AT 6:00 — TOWN SQUARE — IT IS IMPERATIVE FOR THE SAFETY OF DELTA THAT YOU ATTEND — SHERIFF CASCADIA. The kind of thing you could make from scratch in a few seconds. Still, I was surprised- “How did you make all these so quickly?” I asked Cascadia when I returned to pick up another load.

Cascadia shrugged and staplegunned another flier to a lamppost. “Magic and vampires,” she said. “You wouldn’t believe how fast Homeguard and Hailey can work. I was making three or four fliers at once and they were still outpacing me.”

“Alright,” I said. I moved a stack of fliers to my own cart. “And Levanta’s working?”

“Oh, yeah. Keeps coming back needing fliers or staples or both. She’s great. Why?”

“Just wondering.” Specifically, if Levanta had taken advantage of being out of my sight to try to find Homeguard’s house and talk to Bay at all. Needing materials could be faked, but I didn’t think she was faking at all. Maybe she was taking advantage of being up in the air to get an idea of the layout of Delta — assuming she didn’t know its layout already — but whenever she landed, I was sure she was actually doing work. She’d leaped at the chance to do something.

Across the street from Cascadia, I stapled another flier to another lamppost and examined it again. Between the simplistic design and the sensationalistic language, it looked like something a fringe movement would put up: The end is nigh! Come to this place to learn more! I’d asked Cascadia about it, but she waved it off. “I’ve put up posters like this before,” she’d said, “and Delta knows I don’t really do panic. Coming from somepony else, yeah, maybe it’d be something to roll your eyes at, but from me, you know it’s serious.” Which made me wonder what would happen if somepony else put up similar fliers claiming to be from her, but I decided not to push the issue too much.

We’d been at this for… two hours, I guessed, just putting up fliers and stapling them. And, as Cascadia had said, we weren’t even getting all of Delta; Homeguard and Hailey were covering part of it for us. I hadn’t realized before just how large small towns could be when you needed to zig and zag across them. Still, it was satisfying to finally, finally, finally be doing something. It was just a shame it had to be in these circumstances.

When I ran out of fliers again and trotted back to Cascadia, I decided to bring up a matter that’d been bouncing in my head for a while. “Cascadia?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think we can actually convince Delta about, well, vampires?”

I’d never imagined you could staplegun viciously until Cascadia did it right then. She looked like she was almost stabbing the lamppost. “Yes. We will,” she said darkly. “And if we can’t, I’ll press-gang them into helping anyway. These… Crystalline vampires… They’re not taking this town from us.”

She plucked another sheet from the stack. “But, honestly, I think everypony in Delta’ll listen.” Her voice was back to its usual tone. “If not immediately, then before Crystalline arrives, at most. The whole animal business has been going on for so long that we’re all kind of expecting something out of left field, anyway. Honestly…” She smirked at me. “You almost went mad in days. Now imagine being worried about it for moons.”

I clouted Cascadia on the back of the neck. She barely budged. “And when Homeguard or Hailey do some vampire-y things,” she continued, “like, I don’t know, stabbing themselves in the head and coming out fine, that’ll be a bit of a wakeup call.”

“Well, if you say so. You know Delta best.” Another stack of fliers changed carts and I muttered, mostly to myself, “I really hope you’re right.”

“Trust me, Swan. The rest of the town does.”
> 23 - Come Together
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I paced back and forth in the family room, glancing at the clock again. 5:36. Still almost half an hour too early. I groaned again.

“Mom, can’t you go there and wait?” asked Levanta from her reading chair. She’d said she didn’t want to go to the meeting, since I’d tell her everything anyway. Stupid adolescence.

“Well- I- I guess,” I mumbed. I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t there already. Maybe I thought waiting there would just make things worse.

“Then can you please leave?” Levanta’s wings twitched as she turned a page. “Your pacing is getting on my nerves.”

Ordinarily, I’d have said she was getting mouthy, but that was pretty accurate. “Fine. Leaving,” I said. “You sure you don’t want to come?”

Levanta’s wings twitched again. “Pretty sure.”

“Alright. See you in… two hours, I think.”





Even though I was early, and in spite of its size, the town square was packed. Ponies milled about, talking with each other, eating some snack, trying to get out of the crowd to get some space. “Small” towns could still hold a lot of ponies. I was a bit disappointed with myself that I still barely recognized anypony. Once this was all over, I needed to take a break and get out. Time passed, and as six o’clock approached, I craned my head, looking for-

“Hey! Swan!” And then Cascadia popped out of the crowd in front of me. “Homeguard and Hailey are also here, in case you can’t see them.” She looked around at the crowd and grinned. “Told you ponies would listen to me, didn’t I?”

In spite of the situation, I couldn’t deny that all these ponies being here raised my spirits quite a bit. Maybe we’d be able to convince the town, after all. “Yeah. Good. You need my help at all?”

“No thanks,” Cascadia said, “I know what I’m going to say and I got this. They’re more likely to listen to me than to you, anyway.”

“Just let me know if you need clarification on anything.”

Cascadia nodded, pushed her way through the crowd, and climbed onto the wall of the fountain in the center of the square. Her horn flashed and she cleared her throat, magic amplifying her voice well beyond its usual levels. All the conversation died down almost immediately and the crowd quickly turned to face her. At least she had presence.

“Delta,” she said, “I’ve gathered you all here today to warn you of a great danger. Now, this is going to sound crazy, but you need to trust me on this. Okay?” The crowd rumbled in varying degrees of assent. “Some time ago, the monster that plagued our town for moons was discovered and killed. It was a vampire.”

For a second, silence. Then the crowd broke out in a hubbub. I heard ponies shouting in panic, laughing derisively, whispering in shock, every reaction you could imagine. Cascadia gave them about ten seconds to get it out of their systems, then loosed off a magical bang. “Quiet down!” she yelled. Bang bang.

The crowd quieted down, but they weren’t quite silent. Ponies were still muttering to each other. “I promise you,” said Cascadia, “I am not kidding. The monster really was a vampire. Think about it: the animals were all completely drained of blood and killing ponies in a town like this would’ve attracted too much attention. Honestly, what else could it be?” Some of the ponies rumbled in skeptical affirmation. “But that’s not all. We’ve also got two vampires in Delta right now. Upstanding citizens who’ve sworn off pony blood and use animal blood to replace it. Ponies who, even though I know they’re vampires, I would trust with my life. Homeguard?”

I’d always known Homeguard could move quickly, but aside from the night River was killed, I’d never seen it. When Homeguard climbed onto the fountain, it was so fast it was like he simply blurred into existence. I twitched, and I wasn’t the only one. A lot of the crowd flinched as well. I suspected that I was the only one who noticed how nervous Homeguard looked, or how much his legs were twitching.

“As you all know, this is Homeguard,” said Cascadia. Homeguard grinned halfheartedly and waved. “As you all don’t know, he’s a vampire. He’s been a vampire since long before he came here, and he’s never — never — drunk a pony’s blood. I don’t think he ever will. The same can be said of Hailey: vampire for a long time, never drunk pony blood. They’re still the same ponies you’ve known for years, just vampires as well. Now, just in case you’re not convinced on the existence of vampires…” Cascadia scooped up a battered spear from the rim of the fountain and said to Homeguard, “Ready?”

Homeguard pursed his lips for half a second before replying. “Ready.”

Cascadia immediately ran Homeguard through.

Screams, yells from the crowd. Several of the closer ones moved toward the fountain, only to draw back when Homeguard didn’t fall down or even react. He just stood there with the spear in his chest, looking like he was standing in the sun on a lazy Sunday.

“You feel alright?” Cascadia asked, stepping back.

Homeguard shrugged. “Eh. I am somewhat bored, I suppose.” He turned in a circle, the spear swishing through the air. “I am not in any sort of pain.”

“See?” Cascadia said to the crowd. “Vampire. And still a vital citizen.” She wrenched the spear out. There wasn’t any blood, and I wasn’t the only one to notice. “Unfortunately, while he and Hailey chose to stay moral, others didn’t. Yes, others,” she said loudly over the mutters that had just broken out again. “Neither Homeguard nor Hailey was the monster that was killing our animals. When the monster decided he’d had enough and went to snack on a pony here, Homeguard and Hailey killed him to prevent that. Unfortunately, there are other vampires who don’t like that. And they’re petty bastards, so…”

Cascadia took a deep breath. “In about five days, twenty-five vampires and their pet chimera are going to descend on Delta and kill everyone here. Just because they can.”

Silence fell over the horrorstruck crowd.

“But!” Cascadia said. “We can prepare. Vampires have weaknesses. The classic stake, for example. These particular vampires also view ponies as beneath them, so they won’t be expecting us to fight back so hard. And Homeguard and Hailey both have abilities that can help us. This is their home, too. Now, I’m hardly an expert, so I’m open to suggestions, but here’s what I think we can do…”

Cascadia laid out a basic plan for securing the town. Not being combat-minded, I soon had trouble following it. The biggest buildings would be reinforced to shelter those who wouldn’t fight and keep vampires from breaking in. Every scrap of wood more than six inches long and less than three inches wide would be sharpened into a stake. Those who could use repeating crossbows would spend the coming days training on them as hard they could. Traps, spells, weaknesses, funneling, sandbags, pitfalls, chokepoints, it all dissolved into a blur for me. But it seemed to convince the ponies of Delta; a few still looked skeptical, but they were far outnumbered by the ones who were nodding along with Cascadia.

The sky was turning orange by the time Cascadia was done. She finished up by saying, “And that’s all the plans I have for tonight. We’ll all start work in earnest tomorrow, sunup.” She said it in the casual way of somepony who expects something to happen because that something not happening was patently ludicrous. “However, if you want to begin tonight, be back here in an hour. I’ll have some better plans drawn up by then.” She stomped twice on the wall of the fountain. “Dismissed.”

Gradually, the crowd began to disperse. Clusters coalesced as ponies gathered together, talking anxiously with one another. I didn’t hear much skepticism, thankfully. In fact, I’m pretty sure I saw some bits change hooves two or three times. Had ponies been betting on what the monster would be? And who the heck had guessed ‘vampires’? Somepony who thought outside the box, I guess.

I didn’t stick around long. I wondered if Homeguard or Cascadia would want to talk to me, but although they noticed me, they didn’t try to get to me. Of course, this was all out of my hooves; I had nothing helpful to add to Cascadia’s plan yet. Maybe the chimera, but I still needed to know the general shape of how Cascadia was preparing the town. After spending several lonely minutes in the square, I headed for home. Maybe Levanta wanted to help. Maybe she was involved in something else.





I opened the front door and jumped. Levanta was right on the other side, hovering so her eye level was a foot above mine, ears folded back, and glaring daggers at me. I’d never, never seen her so pissed. In all honesty, she looked ready to punch me. Before I could say anything, Levanta screamed, “What the fudge, Mom?!”

I jumped again. What the heck was she talking about? “I, I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“I found and talked to Bay-”

My heart nearly stopped. “You what?!” But she had to. I’d never mentioned Bay’s name to her. And was it that surprising, anyway? “You could’ve-”

“-and do you have any frigging idea of what you’re putting her through?!”

“Levanta, calm down and stop yelling.” I wiped my face off.

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you!” Levanta forcefully jabbed me in the nose. “You’re not-”

“Levanta.”

When she heard my Mom Voice, a tiny meep escaped Levanta. She immediately folded her wings and dropped to the floor, but she kept glaring fiercely at me. She took several deep breaths and said, “Okay. I went out and found Bay during the meeting. Yeah, yeah, ground me later. But, Mom, she’s- This is the second worst thing that’s happened to her in the past week. Have you seen her? She-”

“It’s for her own good. She needs to-”

“F- For her own good? How? She’s locked up! I-”

“Levanta, Homeguard says-”

“Mom, she’s fourteen, she can’t go back to her old life, she’s surrounded by strangers in a strange town, she’s in constant pain if vampirization is anything like I think it is, she barely knows what’s happening to her, and the parts she does know terrify her. She needs a friend, but everyone’s treating her like a fucking time bomb! She’s in a sunblasted cage for Celestia’s sake!”

Levanta’s words tore at me; I didn’t want to leave Bay alone, I didn’t want to treat her like an animal. But, as Homeguard said, her instincts were uncontrol-

Homeguard said a lot of things that I thought were unsubstantiated. Why should this be any different? I’d already smashed one of his rules to pieces without experiencing the fallout he was so sure would happen; why not try another one? “Alright,” I said. “I’ll talk to him about it.” I thought for an instant. Did I have anything to do? Not yet, no. “Right now, even.” Might as well push my luck while he was stressed. I turned for the door, then fired a glance at Levanta. “I’d say ‘stay here, I’ll be back’, but you’re just going to bolt the moment I’m out of sight, right?”

Levanta coughed and looked away, rubbing a hoof against her leg. “W-well, uh…”

“Just stay safe, okay? Remember that it might seem cruel, but at the same time, Homeguard might have a point. He’s not mean, he’s pragmatic.”





Back and forth between my house and Homeguard’s. Back and forth and back and forth and over and over and over. How often had I done that in the past week? I did my usual thing while walking and thought, trying to compose a solid argument in favor of letting Levanta sit and talk with Bay. At first, it was just, “She’s scared and needs a friend.” But as I kept thinking, I picked at smaller facts and pragmatism began losing its grip. The more I thought, the less of a reason I saw to keep Bay locked up at all. When you looked at the facts, a lot of Homeguard’s arguments fell a tad flat, at least in relation to Bay.

When I reached the cottage, I took a quick look at the cage. Bay was curled up in the center, trying to sleep. Yes, that confirmed my train of thought. Levanta was nowhere to be seen, but she was probably in the trees, waiting for me to go inside. I didn’t worry about that too much.

Inside the cottage, Hailey was nowhere to be seen, Cascadia was sketching something out on the coffee table and muttering to herself, and Homeguard was silently doing a circuit of the room. I wondered if he remembered Bay existed at all or if he’d just gotten so caught up in everything that she’d slipped his mind. It was hard to blame him for the second; I probably wouldn’t have remembered. He glanced up and nodded at me when I entered the room.

I motioned for him to come over. When he was at my side, I cleared my throat. “Levanta thinks the cage is too much for Bay to take alone and wants to try to talk with her, and I think that she can be let out comple-”

I was expecting it to come to the extent that I was wondering if I was beginning to read his mind. “No,” he said. “You may have been correct about revealing the truth about myself and Hailey, but you shall not-”

“Can you ple-”

“The very idea is utterly irrespon-”

“I’ve thought it through and I rea-”

“You cannot imagine the pain your daughter’s scent woul-”

“But she’s barely moved and she has dr-”

“In the early days, the thirst is uncontrollable! A fledgling will attempt to set upon the nearest ponies and drain them dry! This is not mere fearmongering, I have experienced it firsthoof! When I was-”

“Didn’t you go for days with no blood when you were first turned?”

Homeguard’s protests stopped dead. He looked off into the distance, his mouth slightly open.

“And you still kept your mind together enough to run off when you were free. But Bay? She has a source of food now. Maybe she has less control, but she’s still been sitting in the center of that cage without trying to escape. Give her a chance. Let her get used to the smell. She needs a friend.”

Maybe the smashing of his assumptions on how ponies would react to vampires had done something to him, finally getting through his thick skull. Homeguard only hesitated for a second before saying, “Very well. So long as Hailey or myself is around, we can allow Bay and Levanta to converse.” He clicked his tongue and looked up. “As a matter of fact, if Bay feels she can control herself, we may be able to let Bay out in Levanta’s presence.”

“Alright. I’ll tell Levanta, but she’s probably already ignoring me.”

Homeguard glanced at the door and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Yes,” he muttered. “She is.”

Indeed, when we went back outside, Levanta was sitting next to the cage, already deep in conversation with Bay. Homeguard’s allegations of uncontrollability to the contrary, Bay was still sitting in the center, with her cap back. Levanta said, “So what do you like to do? Or- did you like to do? Sorry.”

“N-no, you’re- ’S fine.” Bay turned away from Levanta, took a deep breath, and turned back. “I- I whittled. I liked to carve cats.” She turned her flank towards us; her cutie mark was of a knife cutting a thin slice of wood from a larger piece.

“Really?” asked Levanta. “Cool. How did-”

“You don’t need to pretend it’s cool,” mumbled Bay.

“No, really!” said Levanta. She put her face up to the bars. “That’s neat! I could never do it. I just got into drawing and I think that’s hard. Whittling is really cool.”

Homeguard cleared his throat. “Levanta?”

“So does, like, the kind of wood matter?” asked Levanta, not even twitching at the sound of her name. “Are some-”

“The ‘stupid effing cage’ is what I would like to talk about,” said Homeguard.

That got a reaction. Levanta squeaked, jumped, and turned in midair to face Homeguard when she landed. Bay scurried to the edge of the cage and whispered in Levanta’s ear, “Yeah. He does that a lot.”

“I… I admit, we may have been overreacting,” said Homeguard. “Hailey and I were undergoing a great deal of stress and did not fully consider the situation.”

I cupped a hoof around my mouth and stage-whispered to Levanta, “He does that a lot, too.”

Homeguard snorted. “So while containing Bay in a cage might be necessary, it also might be a bit much.” He turned to Bay. “Tell me. Do you think you could control yourself if I were to let you out? While I shall be around to prevent events from getting out of hoof, I would prefer it to not be necessary. And in spite of my… skills, I do not know how complete your control is. I can only hear the truth from you.”

Bay blinked, bit her lip, and looked away. “I… I think I can. I, I’m not thirsty anymore, so she… doesn’t… smell like…” She turned back, her eyes wide and hopeful. “Please? I… I promise I won’t-”

“No, I do not think you will,” said Homeguard. He walked to the door, pulled the pole up, and motioned Bay out of the cage.

Bay took one step towards the door. Two steps. Three. She stuck her head out of the cage and sniffed. She shivered, but said, “Yeah. I can handle this.” She walked in front of Levanta and grinned awkwardly. “Um. H-hi.”

“Hey. You feel fine?”

“I- I think so.” Bay swallowed, and when she spoke again, her voice was more resolute. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Y’know…” Levanta grinned and opened her wings. “We can-”

“Please restrain yourself from flying unless Hailey is the one watching you,” Homeguard said quickly. “Unless you have the utmost confidence in your capacity to control yourself, Bay.”

“I…” Bay looked up, rustled her wings. “We… Let’s stay on the ground for now, o-okay?”

“Aw.” But Levanta closed her wings without further argument. “So can you show me some whittling?”

“I- I’d need a knife. And, and it needs to be the right kind of-”

“Goldurn it!” Hailey dropped from the sky, grinning like a loon. “For some straaaaange reason, I just haaaaappened to stop by the arts and crafts store on the way home and just haaaaappened to buy this knife! And doing that made me so frustrated that I just haaaaappened to also pick up some blocks of wood! And now I just don’t know what to do with them!” She flicked a bag at Bay and winked not-at-all discreetly at me.

Bay promptly dug through the bag. For the first time since I’d seen her, she smiled. “Y-yeah! This’ll be great. I can show you everything. Come on!” She and Levanta ran inside the cottage.

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on them,” whispered Hailey, and followed them inside.

“At least somepony’s happy,” I said.

“Your family certainly has a way of upsetting the status quo,” said Homeguard. “I would never have considered that option had you not been here.”

“I’m just looking out for ponies, and anyway, Levanta put me on that particular path to begin with.” I nodded back towards town. “Come on. We’ve got a city to fortify.”
> 24 - Victory Lies in the Preparation
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

For five days, Delta stopped. Every single thing in the town shut down unless it was focused on securing the town before Crystalline arrived or helping the ponies with the securing. Everypony worked like a madmare, rarely seeming to take breaks. After a just a few days, I was shocked by how much the town had been transformed. Several of the larger buildings had been cleared out of their contents, the better to fit those who couldn’t fight inside. I rapidly learned far more about shoring and building reinforcement than I had ever expected to in my life.

We were greatly aided by Delta’s central export of lumber and timber — which, I was repeatedly told by an increasingly-irritated foremare, were two different things. Trees were chopped down and hacked into rough boards so quickly I could barely follow it. The cleared buildings, which had once had sides of lath and plaster barely an inch deep, soon boasted crude, foot-thick bulwarks on all sides that even a unicorn would have trouble blasting through. Several of Delta’s own unicorns were called on to layer the walls with the best fireproofing spells they knew (which, unfortunately, wasn’t a lot, but it was better than nothing).

Palisades were set up, ready to block off some of Delta’s larger roads. We all knew they wouldn’t do much; even leaving aside vampirism, pegasi could fly over them, unicorns could move them. But it’d slow them down, and we needed all the help we could get.

Although most of the ideas came from Cascadia, she remained open to suggestion every step of the way. She shot some concepts down for this or that reason, but others she welcomed warmly. In particular, expanding the cellars of buildings to hold more ponies came from somepony I’d never met. I even heard something about mines. I couldn’t keep track of it all, but Cascadia seemed pleased.

To cover all of our bases, some ponies scooped up dirt from the forests and carried it back to town for use in sandbags. I heard something about them being used to block doors and windows where wood couldn’t, especially in sealing doors once Crystalline arrived. Thanks to magic, filling them went much more quickly than I’d expected.

In a few days, Delta resembled a fortification more than a town.





Four days remained until Crystalline arrived.

I was pulling a cart with a very large pile of thick planks from the sawmill. They were going to provide even more reinforcement towards a designated shelter, one of the few clubs in Delta. It was one of the heaviest things I’d ever moved, and even with my earth pony strength, I was panting and sweating. My eyes shut tight from the exertion, I dug my hooves in and heaved with all my might and the cart still barely moved.

“Want some help?” a stallion asked.

“Sure,” I said through clenched teeth. “Just give it a push, will you?”

A few seconds later, the cart lurched forward as somepony pushed on it from the back. I gasped in relief and opened my eyes. “Hey, thanks,” I said, looking over my shoulder.

“No problem,” said Pomeroy.

I quickly looked forward again. Pomeroy. Clearwater’s husband. I’d only talked with him that one night Clearwater had invited me over, but her death panged in my heart for him. I swallowed. “Hey, um,” I said, “I, I’m sorry about Clearwater. I only knew her for a few days, but she was a good pony.”

“Thanks,” said Pomeroy. “I- never expected- her to- Thanks.”

I ought to tell him the truth about what I’d known. I knew Cascadia and Homeguard had explained some things about vampire secrecy to Delta, but I didn’t know if he knew the specifics. “Um, when- when Clearwater died… I knew it was a vampire. I- wanted to tell you — to tell the whole town — but, but Homeguard said that I couldn’t. He wanted-”

“Yeah, I heard,” Pomeroy said quickly, “I don’t blame you, it sounds like it was a tough position to be in. I’m sorry for- for what you must’ve gone through.”

“Thanks.”

I pulled. He pushed.

“Is her killer dead?”

“Yeah. She tried to kill Levanta. I was tougher than she expected and I nailed her to a wall.”

“Good.” And it might’ve been my imagination, but I think he pushed harder after that.





One of the hardest parts was getting ponies willing to kill vampires. Regardless of whether the targets are monsters or not, it’s a lot harder to be willing to kill somepony than books make it sound. The ponies who volunteered to learn weapons looked like they were doing it because somepony had to and they’d like nothing more than to be able to shake their hooves at Crystalline and scold them for being bad, bad vampires. Unfortunately, according to folklore, that only worked on mearhwolves. Still, they took up the task they’d assigned themselves as best they could.

A vacant lot behind the police station was converted into a firing range for training crossbowmares. There had always been a few repeating crossbow harnesses sitting around, but they’d never been really used until now. Whenever I stopped into the station, I could hear the whistling of quarrels zipping through the air. The first day, many of the volunteers were lucky to hit the target at all. By the evening of the fourth, damn near everypony was hitting close to the bullseye every single time from further away.

Cascadia took particular interest in the crossbows. I often saw her pacing up and down the line, giving instructions or tips to the trainees. “Chew that trigger bit, don’t bite it.” “Lock your knees to keep the line-of-sight straight. Don’t worry about the recoil, there’s barely any.” “Hold your breath when firing, you’ll keep steady for longer.” “It doesn’t matter if you push out or down, but keep the direction constant when recocking the crossbow. And let me know if you want to have the reload loop connected to a rear hoof rather than a front hoof, it’s not too hard to modify.”

And when she wasn’t training ponies to use crossbows, she was often training them to use spears. Technically, the “spears” were just harded poles with sharpened points, but they proved to be capable weapons. They were harder to train on then the crossbows — less than half the number of ponies who took up crossbows went for spear training — but Cascadia seemed pleased with the results she was getting. Indeed, the few times I saw ponies sparring with each other, they were moving more quickly than I would’ve.

I was surprised to learn that shields weren’t a common ability among unicorns. Each and every unicorn ranger I’d worked with had demonstrated it at one point or another. Of course, rangers were hardly normal ponies. Fortunately, the fundamentals of shield creation were simple to grasp, and by the end of the first day, every single unicorn in Delta, even the foals, could put up at least a halfway-decent shield.

Cascadia wondered if we should set up an armory. That alone said a lot about the changes going through Delta.





Three days remained until Crystalline arrived.

It was just past noon and I was sitting in the middle of a downpour. I was grateful; I’d been working hard for hours and had been soaked with sweat. This was the closest I could get to a shower at the time. When I thought I’d been sufficiently washed, I waved at the weathermare. “I’m good, thanks.” She nodded and moved the cloud to the next pony in line.

I trotted away from the ponies waiting and shook myself off. Celestia, that felt good. I was about to dig into my lunch when Bay fluttered around a building. With Levanta around to actually be a friend to her — along with, from what I’d heard, some of the other young mares in Delta — she was at least adjusting well enough to hide her emotions; I suspected she was still torn up inside and putting on a brave face for us. She hadn’t even come close to attacking anypony on instinct, much to Homeguard’s relief. “Hi!” she chirped.

“Hey,” I said. Munch. “You feeling good?”

Bay was grinning. “I killed a bear allllll by myself!”

I shivered. Somepony that young shouldn’t be saying those words in that tone of voice. I took a bite of my sandwich to try to take my mind off that.

It didn’t work when Bay smacked her lips. “It was weird. He was charging me, then I… did something, I dunno, and he started ignoring me. I was actually poking him and he didn’t really mind.”

Suddenly, Homeguard was right next to me, frowning. “He started ignoring you?” he asked suspiciously. “What, precisely, did you do?”

“I- I said I dunno!” protested Bay, taking a step back. “It was- It was like a muscle in my head! Well, not my head, my mind. It’s…” She rubbed her forehead. “It’s real hard to explain. But I… I kinda go like…” She folded her ears back, grit her teeth, and… nothing happened. I didn’t hear, feel, or see anything change. Feeling a little awkward for Bay’s sake, I looked away.

After a second, Homeguard nudged me. “Come. We should help with-”

“What about Bay?” I asked. She held her position; from her posture, I expected her chest to be heaving, but she didn’t need to breathe anymore, did she?

Homeguard looked at Bay, then at me. “What about her?”

“You’re just gonna… leave her, mid-conversation?” For some reason, Bay was grinning.

“I fail to see why that matters,” Homeguard said, cocking his head.

I stared. What was his problem? “You can’t just-”

“I did that!” Bay said, jumping into the air. “I could never do that back when-”

Homeguard twitched and whirled on Bay, his mouth agape. “Did- Did you do that when… you were turned?” he asked. “When the other fledglings were killed?”

Bay immediately folded her ears back and looked down. “Yeah,” she whispered. “When the first- pony was killed, I- I just got so scared that I- I somehow did that and hid. I was sure they’d find me, but they never did. And I kept hiding, ’cause I didn’t know what to do. Then you and Hailey showed up, and you didn’t find me, so I stopping doing it, and-”

“That would explain much,” Homeguard said, nodding. “Bay, do you recall how I explained to you the way vampires often have access to magic beyond the norm of most ponies?”

“And you think this is mine?” squeaked Bay. “What is it what is it what is it?”

“Psychically-induced ignorance,” said Homeguard. “When you use your power, you become the least important thing in the surrounding area, and everypony — everything — simply pays you no mind.”

“So… I can… woooooooow. But, wait, then how come she wasn’t affected?” Bay pointed at me.

“Long story short,” I said, “immunity to mental magic.” Munch. “Maybe. That’s Homeguard’s and Hailey’s theory, anyway. You can’t affect me.”

“Perhaps it would be strengthened if she became a vampire,” added Homeguard. “I do not know how a va-”

“You get to have vampiric superpowers without being a vampire?” gasped Bay. “That’s cheating!”

“When I figure out how I’m doing it, I’ll let you know.”

“Experiment with your power,” said Homeguard. “You may be able to do far more with it than simply getting ponies and vampires to ignore you.”





Even with all the work and the degree to which we’d strengthened the town, it wasn’t hard to find ponies who worried that we wouldn’t be able to build up the town enough. It was hard to fault them for being pragmatic; vampires, after all. All we had to go on was what Homeguard and Hailey told us, and they admitted their knowledge could be incomplete. Oddly, nopony seemed to want to actually leave; this was their home.

Cascadia seized on the pessimism to make the town even stronger. Whenever somepony raised a complaint, she found a way to fix it as best she could. It was actually how we came up with the idea of building up thick wooden walls around the buildings; somepony complained that vampires were strong and could bust through walls, so Cascadia did her damnedest to make sure the walls were as unbustable as possible. Somehow, she had the patience to listen to almost everypony, even the ones with highly unlikely ideas of what vampires could do. At first I thought it was a fool’s errand, but I couldn’t miss the lower amount of complaints as the week wore on.

Hailey also managed to keep some of the tension down by constantly delivering updates on the precise time when Crystalline would arrive on the given day (which hadn’t moved forward at all, in spite of them definitely watching us; “Arrogance,” said Homeguard). At first, it was just before sundown, but as the days passed and we worked, it kept slipping later and later and later until finally it hovered around midnight. Hailey said it was a good thing: “They’re getting more and more nervous about their chances! See, they think that by moving it more and more into the night, we’ll be more tired, which, okay, is true, but honestly, the fact that a group like Crystalline is admitting that at all is pretty incredible!”

“And what if they’re planning to come at midnight,” I asked when she and I were alone, “only to move their arrival forward to six hours to throw you off?” Future sight was nice, but Hailey had always said it wasn’t infallible, so I didn’t want to rely too much on it.

Hailey tutted. “You can’t fake planning in this sitch. If they’re saying they’ll come at midnight but they’ll really come at six, then they’re planning to come at six, so I’ll see them coming at six. But, yeah, this sort of scry-vs-seer thing can get complicated because they know I know they know I know they know I know and la de dah de dah. Now, if it was five and they decided to come at six truly spontaneously, that’d be something else. But it still takes time for them to arrive, so we’ll have a fair warning.”

Fair warnings for times aside, nopony, not even Cascadia, had done something like this before. It was hard to know what to expect.





Two days remained until Crystalline arrived.

I was hammering some framework into place for a palisade when I heard somepony yell. At first, I paid it no mind. Ponies were always yelling about this or that. But when the yelling grew louder and I heard ponies running, I could help it: I dropped what I was doing and followed the crowd.

We came upon an ash-covered pony, still wide-eyed and shaking and clutching the spear she’d been training with, being escorted back to Delta. Hailey was apologizing, since she hadn’t seen that vampire making a decision like that. I was able to gather a lot of contradictory information before Homeguard cleared it up for me.

“As the sawmill is a not-inconsiderable distance from the rest of Delta, the millers were paranoid that they’d be snatched off one by one by any of Crystalline watching the town from afar,” he explained. “They took extra precautions, never going out in groups of less than three, never going out without weapons of some sort, and always going out with at least one unicorn to shield them. Now, everything that follows is speculation based on the memories of the pony involved. The current group was cutting up logs for planks. However, a member of Crystalline, who was probably tired of waiting for the chimera to be changed and had decided to attack Delta on her own, charged from the forest and, using her power, struck them all blind.”

I shivered. I’d been nearly blind in caves before, and the sensation was disturbing. And at least then, I had the advantage of a semi-controlled environment. “Let me guess,” I whispered. “The vampire walked in, killed the other ponies in the group, and-”

“Incredibly enough, no,” said Homeguard. “The vampires of Crystalline are nothing if not arrogant, remember. As the ponies stumbled blindly around, the vampire sauntered up and bragged that she was of a superior species, far above them, and could handicap them whenever she chose, leaving them helpless before her. To prove this, she laid a hoof on that pony, there.” He nodded at the shaken pony.

Reminded of Levanta’s own interaction with Speckle, I suspected I knew how this was going to go, but I kept quiet. No need to interrupt now.

“She blindly lashed out and struck the vampire,” continued Homeguard. “It disrupted her control, giving the ponies their sight back, and I imagine the shock of a pony — a pony! — hitting her meant she couldn’t react before the pony reflexively seized the nearby spear and impaled her with it. By luck, the blow struck the heart. Although I cannot deny I would rather it occur this way than any other, the pony is still adjusting to killing another sapient being.”

Of course she’d feel that way. It was only natural. I’d been unnerved by Homeguard killing Speckle, and she’d threatened Levanta.

After that, Homeguard started doing circuits of the town every hour (exactly when was random) or so to be sure that no vampires would try to sneak in again. None did. Maybe one of their own getting killed had scared off the other potential rebels.





Somewhere around noon on the last day, we collectively admitted that any further fortifying of Delta was just busywork. We’d covered every possible angle we could think of and done the best we could in the time available. At this point, we attempted to build walls even thicker before giving up and spending the next hour lying around.

I wasn’t tired so much as done. I’d worked almost nonstop for days. I couldn’t imagine what the rest of the town felt like. Following day after day of the sounds of labor, the near-silence of the entire town taking a break was eerie, like the quietness following a vampire attack. I couldn’t even relax properly, since it was entirely possible that Crystalline would break in, demolish what we’d built, and render all our work meaningless.

After all, the worst was yet to come.





Six hours remained until Crystalline arrived.

We couldn’t drink alcohol. We weren’t allowed to. What kind of town defense force would we be if we got drunk? A bartender — I think his name was Othello — loudly declared that if he was still alive when Crystalline had been exterminated, his bar would have a day where everything was free. It was hard to blame him. We got hopped up on coffee instead, for the caffeine. Some of us tried to nap so we’d be naturally well-rested, but nerves made that impossible.

I tried hanging out in a bar with some of Delta’s other ponies, but it didn’t feel right. I was reminded of Levanta’s earlier worries: I didn’t belong here. I didn’t know anypony and just couldn’t get in the same mood. Taking my mug, I headed outside.

Homeguard was sitting near the door, looking at… I wasn’t sure what. What did vampires do for fun? The same things ponies did? Was he thinking of anything I wouldn’t? Were a vampire’s thoughts even that different to begin with? In any case, I had a few questions I wanted to ask. I sat down next to him. “Homeguard?”

“Hmm?”

“Was Crystalline really the main reason you didn’t want to reveal yourself? Or was there something else?” I took a sip of my coffee.

Homeguard stared into the night for several long moments. Then he sighed. “You must remember,” he said, “I first became a vampire shortly after the princesses hunted down and killed many, many vampires. I… I admit, I first was irrational, since the legend had not yet spread. Perhaps I could have claimed that I was cursed. But later, a member of Crystalline came to me and told me stories of the backlash even peaceable vampires who had revealed themselves had faced. In hindsight, I suspect he had been lying so Crystalline could control me more easily, but at the time, it made quite an impression. And now…”

He sighed again. “You may recall that I thought myself soulless once. That Luna had convinced me otherwise. And although I believe her, I cannot deny that I have my doubts from time to time. And… should I have truly lost my soul, when I die…”

His voice trailed off, but he didn’t need to continue. It was one thing for there to be an afterlife, it was one thing for life to simply end. Either one of those, I’d be fine with. But for there to be an afterlife for everypony except you… Even somepony as worldly-minded as me found that disturbing. For somepony like Homeguard, a former preacher, it’d be like a vulture looming over them. The kind of thing you wanted to stave away at all costs. At least Homeguard ensured that he was the one paying the costs.

“Well, you were wrong,” I said, hoping it’d sound casual and not like a smug “I told you so.”

“And I have rarely been happier to be wrong.”

“After this is done, you wanna pop into Canterlot and let Celestia know you’re still alive? Maybe convince her to be more open about vampires?”

I honestly wondered if being a mind reader for so long meant Homeguard had forgotten what it was like to be surprised mid-conversation. He twitched and stared at me. “What?”

“Oh, come on,” I scoffed. “Do you really think you’re the only vampire who doesn’t like eating ponies? Who’s afraid of dying? You really think Delta’s the only town that’d be this understanding? I’m positive that if you just convinced some princess — if you’re nervous, let’s say Princess Twilight, she seems easy to approach — that vampires could be civilized, she’d be happy to put out a proclamation telling other vampires that it was safe to come out and ask for help.”

Homeguard gave me a strange look, then said, “Well, we must survive this night if that is to be our course of action.”





It was almost midnight.

Shortly after sunset, Hailey had painted a big sign and laid it out on the roof of the firehouse: Crystalline scriers: I know where you’re going to come from and I’m going to keep reorganizing them for the most protection so pick a direction and stick with it, nimrods. A few minutes later, she said that Crystalline was coming from the north.

At about nine, the bulk of the town went to the shelters. There were almost a dozen of them, clustered together as the buildings were available. They looked like near-solid blocks of wood with their walls and fortified doors. The ponies inside wouldn’t come out until all the vampires were killed or had fled. I’d broken down hugging Levanta before sending her inside. So had she.

I was on the roof of a building near the edge of town; it’d been flattened and battlemented to give us some height and protection, however slight.  Other, similar setups were scattered around the edge of Delta. With me were Cascadia, Homeguard, Hailey, and half a dozen other ponies. The vampires and me were the only ones who didn’t have crossbows; I felt like a bit of a millstone, sitting around there, but Hailey reminded me of the chimera, “And this is where she’s most likely to come!” Technically, I had a flare gun strapped to my fetlock — several ponies here did, in case one group or another needed to signal for assistance — but I didn’t trust it as a weapon. So I sat and looked out into the forest and waited.

Seconds ticked past. The moon, so bright when I’d learned the truth about River, had waned to almost nothingness. Only a tiny sliver of silver remained. The weather pegasi had cleared the clouds away, but stars don’t provide that much light. The town was cloaked in near-darkness; sputtering lanterns and flickering light gems were hung around Delta to give us some semblance of vision.

Seconds ticked past. I wrapped my hooves around my spear. I already knew a little about polearms — armed combat was something most rangers learned in case the worst happened — and I wasn’t half bad with them, but in the end, it still felt like nothing more than a long, pointy stick.

Seconds ticked past. I could hear my heart pound away in my chest. It was strangely calm and even: Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Lub-dub. Nopony said much of anything. Nopony made much sound at all. The silence was sacred; we didn’t want to break it. Breaking the silence meant Crystalline was here.

Seconds ticked past. I wished I had a watch.

Suddenly, Homeguard’s ears stood up and he raised his head. We all turned to watch him. His eyes narrowed and his lips peeled back. “They are almost upon us.”
> 25 - Hammer, Meet Anvil
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Finally, they’re here,” Cascadia muttered to herself. “How many of them?”

Homeguard clicked his tongue as he thought. After a moment, he said, “Twenty-one that I can detect, not including the chimera. They are still several miles out, but they shall be here within five minutes.”

“Alrighty. Lock and load, everypony.” The crk-crk-CHKT of crossbow harnesses being cocked echoed around me. Again, I felt like a millstone. I’d wanted to practice with the crossbows, but Cascadia had insisted that I was the best pony to go after the chimera, and since I’d said crossbows wouldn’t do much against her, I shouldn’t practice on crossbows.

Homeguard twitched. “Three ponies just broke off from the main group,” he said. “I could not tell their intentions; they were disguising their thoughts quite well. They… seem to be looping around the town.”

“Crystalline’s sending out some loners to go after the Bay Bucker Bar,” muttered Hailey. The Tri-B was one of the more distant shelters, harder to protect. It’d been built up the most, but it wasn’t invincible. “I’m going after them.”

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” I asked.

“C’mon, trust me,” Hailey said, flaring her wings and flashing a stupefyingly winning smile. “I can see the future.” And she vanished into the night.

Somehow, that both eased my anxiety and ratched up the tension even more. So she was leaving. That implied she thought we were fine, right? But we’d just sent one of our best fighters away, alone, without a plan. You didn’t need to be a tactical genius to see how stupid of an idea that was. Still, future sight, so…

Minutes ticked by. The only sound was the wind rustling the trees, the flexing of crossbows, and somepony coughing every now and then. I squinted into the darkness but couldn’t make anything out.

Then Homeguard whispered, “They are here, now. They are watching us.”

I looked out again. No change. “I can’t see anything,” somepony said.

“Then hit the lights,” muttered Cascadia.

After a few seconds, the infrasonic buzz of magic made every single hair in my coat stand on end. Several improvised spotlights hummed to life, blasting the forest with light. I waited a second for my eyes to adjust, then I caught my breath.

The figures standing in the light looked like ponies, but they were… off. I still don’t know what, but something about them made my skin crawl off. None of them had flinched from the sudden light in their faces. They were still as statues, with no wind to ruffle their manes or tails and break the illusion. They stared expressionlessly, unblinkingly at us; even from here, I could see that the eyes of all of them I could see were bright, bright red. All of them wore thin black robes.

And then there was the shadow of the chimera behind them. The silhouette was unmistakable; nothing else looked quite that strange. It was pacing back and forth, not quite of sight. It was strangely quiet for its size, even accounting for the distance. Shit.

I swallowed, attempted to will my heart to slow, and looked again. The vampires were roughly arranged in two rows of… about ten, I guessed. Behind them stood Rebirth and Tributary. Rebirth was grinning crazily at us, her eyes wild, and wore a gilded saddlebag at her side. Tributary simply stared at us, feeling like he was analyzing us.

For about five seconds, no one spoke. “Hi there!” said Cascadia. “Nice night, isn’t it?”

One of the vampires stepped forward and threw out his hoof. “Ponies of Delta!” she boomed. “You have prepared for us, futile as it may be! Two of your own have lied to you for years, and yet you still believe them, shelter them, trust them! Know this: we will show you no mercy. If you surrender, your deaths will come swiftly. If you fight, you will wish you had never been born long before we’re through with you. We will destroy your town, raze it to the ground, and use your lifeblood to resurrect the great King Sombra, all before dawn! You cannot hope to stop us! What say you?”

Silence. A soft click. Then an irregular series of twangs sounded around me, quickly followed by a fusillade of arrows zipping through the air. Not all of them hit, but within seconds, the announcer and three other vampires had collapsed into ash.

“What say I?” yelled Cascadia. “Thanks for giving us time to aim!” More twangs, but the remaining vampires scattered and had vanished into the night before I even saw the arrows.

Homeguard chuckled. “Oh, my. They did not expect you to interrupt their monologue. They…” His eyes widened. “They are at a near-complete loss,” he whispered. “They were so certain that they could defeat you without a loss of life…”

“Yeah?” Cascadia put her hoof in the forward loop and pushed, recocking the crossbow. “Those idiots’d never last a week in the Royal Guard, even with its current state.”

“Hush,” Homeguard said, holding up a hoof. His ears were pivoted towards the forest. I wasn’t sure if he could hear anything or if it was something he did to help focus his mind reading. He licked his lips. “They… are… Rebirth and Tributary are arguing. Rebirth wants to storm Delta now, casualties be damned. Tributary wishes to release the chimera as a diversion.”

“Hrng. Not good, either way, but let’s hope for Rebirth to wi- Oh, I see you.”

I peeped over the wall. Just beyond the beam of the spotlights, I could barely make out the silhouette of a vampire approaching. I thought they were looking at us, but they stayed outside the beam, trying to let the glare hide them. It almost worked, and I was still left wondering how Cascadia had spotted them in the first place.

“Coooome oooon,” Cascadia mumbled around her crossbow’s trigger bit, “just a little-” She paused. Twang. I could barely see the vampire, but I saw enough to see them collapse into dust. Cascadia smirked. “These are some pretty lousy vampires.”

“They are unused to this sort of resistance,” said Homeguard. “They have forgotten caution.”

“Maybe they’ll stay in that ru-”

Homeguard’s eyes suddenly widened. “Tributary won out. Rebirth is sending the chimera at us.” As if to punctuate his words, the chimera broke out in a joyful roar.

I immediately broke out in a sweat. Shit.

“Finally!” the chimera yelled. She stomped into the spotlight. She was a big one, alright, over a dozen times the weight of a pony. Her tiger stripes had a certain elegance that drew my attention even in these circumstances, but she wasn’t lithe in the slightest. Chimeras were brutish in build and in nature. Several ponies shot her with crossbows, but the bolts simply embedded themselves in her body. I wasn’t sure she would’ve noticed even if she hadn’t been vampirized. 

The tiger grinned up at us. “You couldn’t kill me before, you little ponies! You can’t kill me now!” All three heads laughed discordantly. The chimera slowly, deliberately stomped to one of the shelters, dug her claws into the wooden armor, and tore a sizeable chunk away. Pony vampires would’ve had trouble getting through, but the chimera would tear through it in minutes.

“Shit shit,” muttered Cascadia. She swiveled around, looking into the night for more vampires. When she didn’t see any, she ducked down below the battlements. “No targets except for the chimera,” she said to herself.

“The rest of Crystalline will not come out so long as the chimera is in the open,” said Homeguard. “Once it breaks through the walls, it shall set upon us while the other vampires-”

“Shit shit shit,” Cascadia muttered again. “Swan? You’re the chimera expert. You got a plan?”

Everypony on the roof looked intently at me. I tried and failed to breathe slowly. When it came to fighting a chimera, I’d thought I’d have… I didn’t know what I thought I’d have. More than sixty seconds to come up with a plan. The thing was just too big. The only thing I could do was provide a distraction.

Crap. If that was the only thing I could do, then… “Listen,” I said, and dropped my spear. “I’ll lead her away for a while. You all? Stay here, unless the other vampires try to chase me. I got this.”

“No.” Cascadia put a hoof on the wall. “Swan, I’m coming wi-”

I didn’t have time to argue. I bodyslammed her to the roof and, hoping Homeguard would also stay, jumped to street level before she could get up. I ran into the open and hollered, “Hey! Kitty! How come you have three heads and no brains?”

It’s kind of weird, the kinds of insults chimeras respond to. Her attention was immediately ripped from the building and she whipped around, turning all three gazes on me. I was probably hopped up on adrenaline, but like this, thanks to her red eyes, she looked so over-the-top in trying to be threatening that it flipped around and became an eight-year-old’s idea of “threatening”, dragging out every cliche in the book. Big fangs, sharp claws, hulking body, fine, menacing. But red eyes on top of that? Whoever designed her was trying too hard. She looked silly.

“Fine words, coming from a pony!” bleated the goat.

“Yes, quite fine! Finer than you! I’ve met dogs with more smarts than you!” Come on, tiger, come on come on come on-

“No! Ignore it!” screeched Rebirth. “It’s getting to you!”

Luck was on my side for the moment; rather than listening to Rebirth, the tiger threw her head back and roared. “You’re going to eat those words, and then we’re going to eat you!”

“Yeah? Then you’d better come and get me, you little pussy!” I blew a raspberry and bolted into Delta. The chimera roared and followed, the sound almost drowning out Rebirth’s scream.

One thing vampirism doesn’t change? Mass. Speedsters still have inertia. Ponies aren’t that heavy and we’re built for running, hence why pony vampires (vamponies?) can easily start and stop booking at… whatever speeds Homeguard and Hailey can reach. But the chimera was big, brawny, meant more for fighting than running, and it took longer to get up to speed. Oh, it was still faster than a regular chimera, definitely, but it took just long enough to speed up and change its direction that dodging it ought to be a cinch.

I sprinted through Delta like I’d never sprinted before, buildings and lights whipping past me as my heart pounded in my chest. I could feel the earth shaking beneath me as the chimera ran, digging into the ground with her claws and pulling herself forward. Only the fact that I was already on a flat road kept me from tripping from the quakes. I could hear her, too. She was gaining.

“We will rend your bones from your flesh and drink you dry!” howled the chimera.

“How can you drink me dry,” I yelled back, “when you’re so busy eating my dust?” (In my defense, I’d never needed to throw one-liners before.)

Another roar. Then, suddenly, the earth stopped shaking-

I jinked awkwardly to one side, lost my grip, and fell, rolling sideways. Cobblestones dug at my skin as I tumbled down the road and the flare gun pressed awkwardly at my ankle. But I avoided the chimera’s pounce. She slammed into the ground where I had been and slid several yards, plowing up a nice furrow of dirt. I rolled back onto my hooves and kept running. “I’d say you’re blind as a bat,” I laughed, “but even bats have better eyesight than you!” (Which is actually true; bats have great eyesight.)

The chimera howled in frustration. Perfect. I needed to keep her frustrated. She shook herself off, dug her claws into the road, and bolted after me. Again, I waited until she was almost then turned down another road at the last second. The chimera attempted to follow; but inertia took over midway through the turn; she rolled over and smashed through a storefront.

Suddenly, I realized that I had no plan. Was I honestly just going to keep running until my legs gave out or the chimera caught up with me? I’d been so concerned about the chimera not destroying the building that I’d forgotten about what would happen to me.

Okay. Maybe I could lead her back. Back to Cascadia and the rest. Get their help. Homeguard’s and Hailey’s, too. Where was I? I glanced to one side. Supermarket, hardware store, post office, okay. I knew where I was. I could go around my house, lead her back that way. Okay. Yeah. I could do this. Keep breathing.

I bought myself some time by jinking down an alley. It was narrow, barely wide enough for three ponies to walk side-by-side. Definitely too narrow for the chimera. She was nearly stopped dead when her shoulders slammed into the walls on either side, smashing bricks from the corners and shaking the ground so much I tripped and fell. The tiger head lunged and snapped, but I was still a good ten feet from her. My heart burning, I turned on the ground to look at her and grinned. “Not very smart, are you?” I asked, punch-drunk on adrenaline.

The chimera roared again, jumped onto the roofs of the buildings on either side of the alley, and swiped down at me. I rolled aside. The claws whistled by me by inches and sliced little furrows into ground. I forgot about the knot in my chest and staggered to my feet. The chimera swiped again. I almost dodged, but one of the claws shallowly nicked me across the side. Did only bites turn you into a vampire? I ran for the other end of the alley as the chimera bounded across the roofs.

She reached the end before me and sliced down. I ducked under her paw and charged down the road to my house. But the cut must have been deeper than I first thought; a stitch of pain lanced through my body whenever my hooves hit the ground. I couldn’t keep up this pace, not all the way back.

I slid around a corner and spotted my house, lit up by lanterns and just down the road, the For Sale sign winking into the night. I could make it there, at least.

“We can SMELL YOUUUUUUU!” every head of the chimera screamed in unison. “We can almost taste your pain! You’re dead!” I chanced a look back; the chimera was still running at me. She was moving a bit slower, my mind tried reassuring me. Now that all three parts of her were working in sync, she remember not to charge full tilt and lose all control when she tried to stop.

Not wanting to see my own death approaching, I turned forward again. My house was less than a hundred feet away, but even as I changed my route to it, I knew I’d never make in time. I was too slow, and she was too fast.

Then my eyes fell on the sign again and I realized I didn’t need to get that far. I put on an extra burst of speed.

The ground stopped shaking as the chimera pounced.

I twisted around, slid backwards over my wet yard, and yanked the For Sale sign out of the ground.

The chimera was flying at me, tiger jaws wide, claws bared, roaring.

I charged and thrust the point upward.

My aim was true and the chimera’s bulk forced her onto the post better than I ever could have. For an instant, I was forced down, then ash was cascading down around me, getting my eyes, my mouth, my ears. I stumbled and collapsed onto my back, still holding the sign like a spear. I waited to be crushed beneath the massive body, but it never came. I opened my eyes. Neither the chimera nor her body was anywhere to be seen, only a thick layer of ash coating the grass around me.

I’d just killed a vampire chimera.

Holy shit.

Unfortunately, the adrenaline chose that moment to begin wearing off. I’d been sprinting for I didn’t know how long, and every single one of my legs burned as if it was on fire. Would I even be contributing that much if I got back? I wobbily got to my feet and took a few steps. It hurt like Tartarus and the flare gun felt a bit too tight, but I could walk, provide support, maybe fight a little. I began walking back toward Del-

“Helloooooooo.”

I turned around. Two vampires, a unicorn mare and an earth stallion, had materialized out of the night between me and my house and were staring intently at me. My brain still running in fight-or-flight mode and too tired for either, I didn’t respond the way I should have. I just waved and said, “Hey. How’s it going?”

The two glanced at each other before the mare smiled disarmingly. “You know, Rebirth said you’d die. That there was no way you could survive against a chimera, let alone a vampire one. Tributary sent us after you, just in case.”

“Can you imagine?” the stallion said with a laugh. “Two vampires for one pony!”

“Hard to blame her, considering all the trouble you’ve caused for us,” said the mare. “But now you don’t have any vampires to hide behind, soooooo…” She smirked and shrugged.

I pointed at the pile of ash that had once been the chimera. “Dude. Seriously?”

The stallion’s laugh petered out. He bit his lip and glanced sideways at the mare, but she didn’t notice. Her horn began glowing. With my head still swimming, all I could think of was that at least I’d go out on a high note.

“Ai yai yai!” And Hailey dropped from the sky, impaling the mare with a spear clean through to the ground. Poof. The stallion turned to run and actually got a few steps off. But in a motion so smooth it looked choreographed (and, knowing Hailey, probably was), Hailey yanked the spear from the earth and the pile of ash it was in, spun around, smashed the vampire so hard in the throat with the spear that he performed a backflip, kept spinning, and stabbed the vampire through the chest before he hit the ground. Poof.

Hailey batted the dust away with a flick of the spear. “You know what’s great about precognition?” she asked, grinning. “Well, a lot of things. But you always know the best time to make an entrance.” She licked the tip of her hoof and slicked her bangs to one side. “I’m good, aren’t I? Of course, I had a little help from…” She whistled.

Bay lowered herself into the light. She grinned sheepishly, rustled her wings, and kicked at the ground. “Um. Hi.”

I blinked. She wasn’t my daughter, but my maternal instincts kicked in nonetheless. “You- You were supposed to stay in a shelter! Homeguard escorted you in, and- you made him ignore you when you left, didn’t you?”

“I wanted to help!” protested Bay. “I’ve been practicing with my power and I… I think I can make them ignore other ponies, not just me! Mmmmaybe.” She kneaded at the ground and looked away. “It… I think it worked just now.”

The cut across my side twitched and I unconsciously tried to cover it up with a hoof. “And you can smell my blood without going nuts?” Tactless, I’ll admit, but after sprinting for several minutes, tact had been replaced with pain, hurt, burning, and pain.

Bay gave me a Look. Her eyes, once so red, were now closer to copper. “I had a meal before everypony went into the shelters,” she said defensively. “Homeguard wanted to be totally sure I wouldn’t snap. Yeah, you…” She suddenly looked very self-conscious and her voice dropped. “Your blood… smells… good, it’s, it’s just… I’m… not really thirsty and I don’t wanna drink it all that much.”

“Good enough.” And if nothing else, at least her power guaranteed Crystalline would ignore her.

Hailey brushed my hoof aside and squinted at my cut. “How’d you get that?”

I opened my mouth.

“Oh, then you don’t need to worry about getting vamped. Only bodily fluid exchange causes the change. Plus, if you don’t feel paralyzed by now, then you didn’t get any venom in you, anyway.”

Good. I took a few steps. My legs burned like mad, but I could walk. I didn’t want to sit out; after being involved with vampires for so long, bowing out of this was nearly out of the question. “And the Tri-B? How’re-”

“Tighter than a tick’s drum,” said Hailey with a smile. “Crystalline never knew what hit them. Now let’s get you back to the main action.” She pulled one of my hooves over her shoulder.

I awkwardly pulled myself over her withers and wrapped my forelegs around her neck. I vaguely wondered how many vampires were dead already. Of course, those were probably the stupid ones. The ones that were still alive almost definitely were smarter and harder to kill. Still, Crystalline’s numbers were dropping, so that was something.

“You ready, Swan?” asked Hailey. “Ready, Bay?”

“Ready.”

“Ready.”

“Then let’s roll.” And Hailey bolted into the night as I held tight to her.
> 26 - Urban Warfare
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

It seemed like we’d barely even started moving when Hailey was lightly depositing me on a street near the town square. She peeped around a corner and frowned. “Hmm. They were here last time. Must’ve moved. Stupid things going on when I’m not around to see them…”

“You’re a seer,” I said skeptically.

“And I can’t control what I see. You two wait here. I’ll go figure out where they are.”

“No, I can do it!” said Bay, flaring her wings. “I wanna help! They’ll never notice me!”

“No!” I said, already knowing it was useless. “Wait-” And she was gone. I whirled on Hailey, who’d sat quietly while Bay bolted. “Why didn’t you stop her?” I growled.

“I dunno,” Hailey said with a shrug. “It just didn’t seem all that important, so I figured I could…” She blinked. “…just… let her…” She sighed. “Stupid psychic ignorance.”

I groaned and facehooved. Of all the vampiric powers for a fourteen-year-old to get, why that one?

With Bay gone, I paced back and forth over and over. I knew she was a vampire, but she was still a new one, and she was only fourteen. I couldn’t take my mind off something terrible happening to her. To try to divert myself, I said, “So what do your visions look like now? Are we going to win?” I picked at the flare gun’s plunger whenever I turned around.

“Dunno.” Hailey shrugged again. “Big fights like this change a lot, ’cause there are a lot of ponies under a lot of pressure and making a lot of decisions that change the course of the future every few seconds or so. The future’s moving so much it’s practically jello. Unflavored jello. And even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you, ’cause that would change the course of the future even more. Like, if I said we were gonna win and you started acting like it, you’d get brutally murdered.”

I grunted and kept pacing. Of course. For a long time, Hailey had seemed slightly batty; now I wondered if that was a coping mechanism. She kept seeing visions of things to come, visions that constantly changed, so maybe she was always teetering on the border of insanity and acting like a ditz most of the time was the only way she could let out her str-

“I’m back!” said Bay, making me jump. “Crystalline’s around the police station and they’ve got a shield up to keep ponies out. I didn’t see any bodies, so I don’t think they’ve killed anypony.”

“What’re they doing around the police station?” I mumbled to myself. At least the station had been somewhat fortified, just in case. “Even if they’ve cornered some ponies in there, there has to be-”

“Homeguard,” Hailey said confidently. “He’s our trump card. As long as he’s around, Crystalline can’t do anything without him knowing about it and knowing how to deal with it. He needs to go before they can go.”

“Can’t they just seal him in the station?”

“Tributary would,” said Hailey. “But Rebirth’s screwier than a hardware store, so she just wants him dead first. And Tribble doesn’t want to push her luck in case Rebirth just goes and brainwashes her to get her way.”

Thank the fates for lunatics. With the exception of the chimera, Rebirth had probably helped us more than she’d hurt us. Unfortunately, that didn’t mean we were any better off at that particular moment. My mind started ticking off possible scenarios. “Bay. You said they’ve got a shield around the station?”

“All around,” Bay said, nodding. “A total dome. No way in or out and there’s a vamp doing a circuit on the inside.”

“Do you know if it goes under the ground?”

Bay tilted her head. “Uh… nnnno? Why would I… check that? Like, at all?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But if we can get under it, we can get inside.” Somehow. And what would we do once inside the shield? Get inside the police station? Attack the vampires when we’re woefully outnumbered? Yeah, I’m not that good at improvising.

“Let’s check now!” said Hailey. “C’mon. We need to get a good look at them anyway.”





Hailey had carried me to a roof similar to the one I’d been Crystalline had arrived. She and I were prone, looking up the street, examining the situation. Bay had been right: a large arcane shield was being projected over the station and a wide area around it. Every single Crystalline vampire around, including Rebirth and Tributary, was inside the shield, for a total of about ten. Only ten? Wow. Rebirth and Tributary were in animated conversation with each other, while the other vampires were sitting stock-still, staring at the police station, except for one who was prowling around the shield’s inside border. Through the tint of the shield, Rebirth seemed to be the only unicorn with a glowing horn, and the light glinted off her saddlebag.

“They’re just sitting there. Why aren’t they attacking?” I asked.

“I’m betting on Homeguard. Once one of them decides to try to break in, he’ll pick up their thoughts and be in position to intercept them before they’ve even started moving.”

And suddenly Rebirth wanting to make sure Homeguard was dead didn’t seem completely stupid.

Bay popped up over the edge of the roof and scurried over to us. “The shield doesn’t go underground. Well, not completely. About a foot. That good enough for you?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t think we’ll be able to get under without alerting that guard on the inside.”

“I can protect you!” protested Bay. “If I can extend my ignorance thing to you-”

“And no offense, but if you can’t, I’ll be dead. I’d rather not risk it.”

“But-! Fine.” Bay pouted and stomped to the edge of the building.

I paid her no mind. She’d get over it. “Any ideas?” I asked Hailey.

“Nope, sorry.” Hailey shook her head. “I’m a seer. We’re not known for improvising.”

“And I need to make a decision before you can see anything about it. Frig.” I raised my head a little, then glanced at one of the buildings across the street from the police station. I couldn’t remember which one it was, but it gave me an idea. The police station had a decently-sized cellar, and I wondered- “How good are you at digging?”

“Well, I’m no diamond dog,” said Hailey, tapping her chin, “but if you’re planning on just booping from cellar to cellar-”

“Yes, exactly.”

“-then I bet I could manage that.”

“Great.” I stood up to get a better view. “So which building do you think would be best? I don’t know anything about these places.”

“Oh, and I would?” asked Hailey, also standing up. “Sheesh, just because I live here doesn’t mean that I know the blueprints of every building in town. Maybe they have big cellars, maybe they-”

And then, behind the shield, Rebirth happened to look in our direction.

I froze for an instant, then hastily ducked down below the edge of the roof. Hailey did the same just as quickly. “Crap. Did she see us?” I whispered.

“I don’t think so,” Hailey whispered back. “I think she just ohballs.”

The side of the roof exploded and I felt a snake constrict around my throat. Before I knew what was going on, I was being dragged across the street like a ragdoll. I clawed at my neck. All I felt was a slight tingling from magic. Hailey bolted after me, but a shield closed around me. She backpedaled and ran for Delta. Another vampire jumped through a hole in the shield that had just opened up and followed her.

I ground to a halt at Rebirth’s and Tributary’s hooves. The magical shackle around my neck vanished and I panted. The two vampires stared at me, Rebirth very visibly gobsmacked, Tributary some combination of disgusted, skeptical, and resigned. “You had a sunblasted chimera after you!” Rebirth said as if it were the most disgusting thing on the face of the planet. “Two vampires! And- And- How the fuck are you still alive?”

I stared blankly at Rebirth. My brain half-formulated several responses before I remembered that captured, tired, and helpless at your enemy’s feet is not exactly the best place to be mouthing off to them. In any case, I doubted they were good responses, anyway.

“Kill her now,” Tributary said tonelessly. “She’s been nothing but trouble since before we first saw her.”

Rebirth frowned at me. She looked at the police station. She looked back at me, a grin slowly crawling onto her face. “No. No, I’ve got a better idea. It can’t serve that idea if it’s dead.”

“In one way or another, she’s been the source of each and every single one of our problems for the past moon,” snapped Tributary. “Cut our sunblasted losses and kill her.”

“No, it’s good. It’ll work. We jus-”

“Does it involve convincing the group inside to come out? They’re not stupid and they know what we want. They won’t believe anything you say. Kill. Her. Now.”

Whirling on Tributary, Rebirth snarled for about two seconds, then she shifted to the fakest, most saccharine smile I’d ever seen. “You know what? Sure. Let’s shake on it.” She extended her hoof, still smiling that sickening smile.

Tributary flattened her ears to her head, curled her lip, and spat on the ground between the two of them. She turned away and flicked her tail in Rebirth’s face.

“A simple ‘no’ would work just fine,” Rebirth said. She directed her attention towards the police station.

Tributary rolled her eyes, then looked emotionlessly down at me. “Hello. You’re troublesome, aren’t you?”

And then she stomped on my ankle hard enough to break it.

I screamed through clenched teeth. My hoof bent at a terrible angle. Before, I thought my legs had hurt. That was nothing compared to this. The post sprint had merely been painful; here, separate from all the pain, I could feel that my foot was bending wrong. My skin crawled. I tried to move my hoof just a little and gagged when I felt bones grinding against each other.

“We could chase you down,” Tributary whispered in my ear, “but I’d rather you not run at all. Of course, I’d rather not keep you alive at all, but these things happen.” She shrugged.

Somehow, those words managed to break through the pain and helped me marshal my thoughts. Keep breathing, I told myself. You’re not dead. You haven’t been bitten. You can get through this. Count to four. Inhale. Count to four. Exhale.

“Hey! Hey, snacks!” yelled Rebirth. “Guess what we’ve got out here!”

One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe in. I could get through this.

“One of your frieeeeends! Come out now, and we won’t kill it!”

One. Two. Three. Four. Breathe out. I prayed nopony would risk themselves on my account.

“Somepony like her? Yeah, right, you won’t kill her!” yelled Cascadia without opening the front door. “You’ll either do a lot worse to her or you’ll kill her after you kill everypony in here! We’re not stupid!”

“Told you,” muttered Tributary.

Rebirth’s face turned dark. “Shut up,” she whispered. Back to the station, she said, “Maybe hearing it scream, beg, plead for mercy before I slowly rip it to pieces will convince you, hmm?”

“Try me! I’ve heard worse and Swan is made of sterner stuff than that! Right, Swan?”

I opened my both to holler back, “Right!” Before I could say anything, Rebirth had telekinetically grabbed me by the throat again, cutting off most of my air, and hoisted me so far into the air that I had to stand on my back legs. Tears formed in my eyes as I gagged and struggled to get enough air.

“Here’s the deal,” Rebirth said, grinning madly. “If I don’t hear you crying for your life in thirty seconds, I’m going to have one of my vampires flay you alive. She’s quite good at it, you know. And when we finally break into that stupid little wreck you call a building, we’re going to do the same to everything inside.”

I tried to look away from Rebirth, away from those sanguine irises, but her grip was too strong. I couldn’t move my head.

“Except for Homeguard.” Rebirth giggled. “Him, we’ll decapitate and keep alive as we force him to watch all the ponies in this sunblasted town are sacrificed to bring back the Great Father, King Sombra himself. And then we’ll kill him.” She rubbed her hooves together. “Oh, sure, we lost some vampires, but they’re replaceable. A nice night, altogether. Don’t you think?”

I couldn’t have responded even if I wanted to. My every effort was devoted to keeping my lungs working.

“Well? The sobbing and groveling?” she whispered. “I’m waaaaiiiitiiiing…”

“I need to breathe,” I gasped. “Puny mortal, you know?” Appeasement seemed the right thing to do right about now.

Rebirth chuckled. “And that’s why you’re nothing more than food.” She released her grip a little and smirked.

I took deep, heaving breaths. Once I no longer felt like I was going to pass out, I screamed, “Chimera dead! Tri-B safe! There’s on-”

My throat constricted again, cutting off my words. I was slammed to the ground. Stars swam in my vision as I struggled to get to my feet. Rebirth grabbed my head between her front hooves. “If they care so damn little for you,” she spat, “and you so little for them, you’re fighting against them.” She wrenched my head up and around, forcing me to stare her in her crazed, blood red eyes. “You,” she intoned. “Are. MINE!”

I wriggled, trying to wrench free, but her grip was like a vise, with no give. I kept expecting her to suddenly push and pop my head like a grape; she didn’t, and continued staring at me with intense concentration. I stopped resisting and waited for the end.

And waited.

And waited.

As the moments ticked by, Rebirth’s anger became confusion. I could only imagine what the other vampires were doing. I coughed. In her tight grip, it was almost painful. “S-so, um,” I said nervously, “are you, uh, going to, um, do anything? Or are you going to keep looking constipated?”

“Kill her,” hissed Tributary. “Now.”

“Y-you,” stammered Rebirth, “y-you should- You should see the world as I see it! You should accept my reality!”

Right. Brainwashing. But Hailey’s theory was that this was my power, right? Complete mental protection. “Sorry,” I said. “My reality trumps yours.” And before the shock wore off, before she could react, I reached over and bopped her on the horn. It wasn’t hard, just enough to disrupt her magic and drop the shield for a few seconds.

An awful lot happened in those few seconds.

There must’ve been some ponies surrounding the area that I could see, because suddenly crossbow bolts were zipping around me. One slammed into Rebirth’s shoulder; she snarled and whirled to face whoever had shot it, dropping me in the process. I instinctively curled into a ball and protected my head with my front legs.

Rebirth took a step forward, only for something small to slam into her from the side and rocket away. To my surprise, she paid no attention to the little bolt when she got back up, instead still making for whoever had shot her. Bay.

I spun around, trying to get my bearings. With the sudden fusillade of bolts, the vampires had scattered and were taking whatever cover they could. I couldn’t see all of them, particularly not-

Tributary tackled me and effortlessly controlled our roll so she wound up on top. Unlike Rebirth, she had no words. She simply bared her teeth and lunged for my throat.

At the last second, something hit her head, leaving her biting at the dirt. Then she was yanked away by her mane; her hooves beat fitfully at the air. I briefly noticed Bay dragging her away. Some part of me dimly noted that, for somepony who barely had any experience in being a vampire, she was adapting to it pretty well, especially to keep her power going like that.

I was cut off mid-thought when a shadow loomed over me. I spun my head around; a vampire was standing above me, bringing his hoof down at my head. Before I realized just what was happening, my reflexes kicked in and I rolled. His hoof slammed into the ground next to me hard enough for me to feel it. He brought his hoof up again-

An entire desk smashed into him. He tumbled head over tail, bowling over another shocked vampire who couldn’t get out of the way in time. And it’d come from… the station?

“Swan! Come on!”

I craned to look. The door to the station was open. Several terrified-looking ponies were peeking out, with Cascadia standing slightly off-center and levitating a desk. “Come on!” she screamed again, and pitched the desk toward me. I ducked and covered my head. Somewhere behind and above me, a vampire cursed.

As quickly as I could, which wasn’t very, I staggered to my hooves. Keeping my broken foot off the ground, I ran for the door.
> 27 - Assault on the Precinct
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

I hobbled for the door as fast as I could go on three legs. From the sounds of things, Bay was really going at Crystalline. But it wouldn’t last forever and I wasn’t going fast enough.

For the third time in five minutes, magic tightened around my neck. Before I knew it, I was being dragged through the doorway of the police station, the flare gun clinking against the linoleum. The doors were slammed behind me and several ponies shoved sandbags into position to block them. Immediately, the magic around my throat vanished. “Sorry, but you were taking too long,” said Cascadia. “And the chimera’s dead? Seriously?”

“Staked it- myself- with a- ‘For Sale’ sign,” I gasped, rubbing my neck. Constantly getting strangled wasn’t a good sensation. “Got lucky.”

“Damn,” somepony said quietly.

“Tributary — the one who isn’t a raving idiot — she sent a couple of vampires after me, but Hailey staked them,” I continued.

“So how many are left?” Cascadia asked nopony in particular. “Those two, I killed one when they first arrived-”

“-and that was after the first four died,” piped up somepony. I think it was Blue Canary.

“Wasn’t it five?” somepony else asked.

“No, it was definitely four,” said another voice.

“Hailey took down another three going for the Tri-B,” I said.

“And there were the two we got when they chased us down Wisteria Road.”

“So, if twenty-one first came…” Cascadia tapped the ground and stared at the ceiling. “Nine left, max.”

Nine. Only nine Crystalline vampires were left. I lifted my head up a little; there were six or seven other ponies in the station at the moment, but I couldn’t remember how many had been in the first group. Maybe, if Cascadia had survived- “How many made it here?” I asked.

Cascadia grinned. “Everypony. Seriously, those vamps just ran straight at us, no strategy at all. They really don’t know how to properly apply their powers.”

“Much to Tributary’s chagrin,” added Homeguard. “Crystalline is woefully unused to this sort of preparedness, and Rebirth consistently fails to admit that we outnumber them. Tributary attempts to penetrate her thick skull at every opportunity, but she continues to delude herself into assuming that she can defeat us easily.” He glanced at my cut; his nostrils flared and he twitched, but that was it.

Well. Dang. No deaths. Far better than I could have hoped. I wobbled to my feet; the cut on my side twinged and my broken ankle burned. I breathed slowly, through clenched teeth.

“Let’s get you out of the hall,” said Cascadia. “Boysenberry, can you-”

Homeguard gasped. “One of Crystalline’s vampires just left.”

We all turned to him. “Left?” somepony asked. “Going where?”

“Elsewhere,” said Homeguard quickly. “She was so disgusted at how Rebirth was handling the situation that she decided to simply cut all ties with Crystalline. She ran into the forest without telling either Rebirth or Tributary and she has no plans to see either of them ever again or to do any further damage to Delta. She- She has no direction; she is simply going away.”

It was too much to ask for. I had to see this for myself. I stumbled to the door and, putting an eye to a window, took a quick look outside. Rebirth was glaring at the door with murder in her eyes, even Tributary seemed pissed, and the shield was back up — I vaguely could hear bolts clattering against it. There were… four, I think, vampires behind them, all muttering to each other, one of them pointed at the door. Bay was nowhere to be seen; if I had wings, I would’ve crossed them. Maybe she was just outside the shield when it went up. One of the nameless vampires took a few steps forward, but Rebirth whirled at her and yelled, so loudly I could hear it, “You stay right where you are until I say you can move!”

“What the fuck is her deal?” asked Cascadia. “Is she just a micromanager?”

“Rebirth is many things,” said Homeguard, “but as her actions have so consistently demonstrated, rational is not one of them.”

“Good. Now, come on, all. We need a plan.”

It wasn’t long before we were all snuggled into the cafeteria. It’d seemed small earlier, when I was working, but now it was comfortable, more than large enough to hold us all. We were nine ponies in total. With, at most, eight vampires outside. Still, they were vampires. Even with numbers, this wasn’t going to be easy.

Cascadia paced back and forth along three feet of open floor. How she managed it, I don’t know. “So we all know the situation,” she said. “They can dodge crossbow bolts without too much difficulty, so we can’t shoot them. Anypony have any ideas for getting out or taking the shield down?”

“Well, um…” I raised my good hoof, the one with the flare gun strapped to it. “Hailey and Bay and I found the shield doesn’t go all the way underground. We might be able to just dig our way out from the basement. If Homeguard can work fast-”

Everypony looked at him. He started squirming in his seat. “I, ah…” he said. “I have… no experience in… these matters-”

“It doesn’t need to be a good tunnel,” I said. “Just enough for us to get out of here.”

“Perhaps, but-” Homeguard’s ears suddenly went up straight. He paused, then screamed, “Take-!”

The entire building shook, drowning out his words and knocking a few ponies to the floor. The lamps rattled and a tile fell from the ceiling. The shaking hadn’t even stopped before Homeguard was running for the door. “They’re trying to get in,” Homeguard yelled back. “Rebirth finally took some of Tributary’s advice, and-”

He tripped. Then he curled into a ball and started screaming.

Everypony started talking at once. “What happened?” “Pull him in here!” “Is he okay?” Somepony bit down on his tail and pulled him back inside the cafeteria. Cascadia crouched down next to him, lightly slapping his cheeks. “Homeguard? What’s-”

Then everypony screamed, yelped, gasped, all at the same time. They all started waving at the air, like they’d been blinded. A few cursed. I didn’t feel any different.

“Get in there,” I heard Rebirth scream, “and bring them out! They need to suffer!”

I grabbed Cascadia by the shoulders. “What’s going on?” I asked her. “Do you see something?”

“A forest,” said Cascadia. “Nothing but forest. I can-” She reached out and patted at my face; I cringed instinctively. “I can feel you, but I can’t see anything real.”

Some kind of illusion, then. A mental one, leaving me unaffected. My psychoactive immunity was really convenient tonight. So, what could I do? Vampires were coming in, but they wouldn’t be expecting me to be up and kicking. But the only time I’d ever beaten a vampire, it’d been through luck. But I had beaten a-

I heard hooves come up outside the cafeteria, and somepony spoke. “Are you projecting an illusion into Homeguard’s mind, too?”

I froze, then imitated the other ponies, trying to look like I was blinded, too.

“Why bother? You’re causing him enough pain to down a dozen alicorns.”

Two vampires stepped into view through the door, a pegasus and a vampire, both mares. The pegasus seemed to be concentrating on something, but I couldn’t tell what. “Still,” said the pegasus. “He’s a vampire, not just a pony. He c-”

“Oh, quiet,” said the unicorn. She waved a hoof dismissively. “He’s not getting up.”

The pegasus. She was keeping Homeguard down. If I could distract her, just for two seconds…

“Any chance we can eat one or two?” asked the unicorn. “I’m hungry.” She stepped into the room, quickly followed by the pegasus. They roamed around, examining the effectively-blinded ponies but not touching them.

Come on, I said to myself, come over here…

“Didn’t you hear her? Rebirth wants them alive,” said the pegasus.

Trying to defocus my eyes, like I was seeing something else, I hesitantly stepped forward, waving vaguely at the air. The vampires didn’t pay any attention to my movement; there was no way I wasn’t incapacitated, right?

“Yeah, and I want to have already completed the ritual,” snapped the unicorn, “but thanks to her, that ain’t happening, either!”

A few more steps forward. I was only a few feet away from them. They still looked convinced.

“Look, if you want to face her aft-”

I took a swing at the pegasus.

Her reflexes were too fast. She blocked my blow easily and stared at me, agape. She tilted her head as if I was just a weird picture on the wall. “How are you-”

And then Homeguard bodyslammed into her. The vampire slid across the floor; Homeguard scooped up a spear from a downed pony, lunged, and stabbed the vampire in the heart. It all took less than two seconds.

But before Homeguard could move again, the unicorn blasted him with magic, throwing him against the wall. He jumped to his hooves quickly, but his eyes were unfocused and he swung wildly at the air. He made a beeline for the unicorn; she grabbed a table with her magic and forced him back with it.

I didn’t stick around to see what happened next. I scrambled into the hall, towards the entrance, and, not thinking, threw myself into my office. I locked the door and tried to move my desk, but with my broken ankle, I couldn’t get a good enough grip to move it fast enough. I looked around, but already knew my office didn’t have windows. I’d gotten myself cornered. Well, if I was going down, I was going to go down fighting. I had only one thing left. I raised the flare gun, pointed it at the door, pulled the plunger back with my teeth, and waited.

Hoofbeats outside my door. The vampire simply bulled her way through the door, reducing it to splinters in an instant. And before the dust cleared, I released the plunger.

I expected the flare to simply hit her in the face (or chest, or wherever), burn her a little, and bounce off. But the flare blasted out of the gun with enough force to force my leg back a few inches and actually embedded itself in the vampire’s chest, still burning. The vampire shrieked, reared, pawed at the flare. A few hairs of her coat caught on fire like wicks. Then more, then more and more, then-

The vampire was distracted. I spun and, compensating for my bad hoof as best I could, bucked her out of the doorway as hard as I could. One of my frogs screamed in pain from the intense heat before adrenaline shut it down. I turned around again; the vampire had hit the far wall hard enough to dent it. She was writhing as she burned, but although her mouth was open, I didn’t hear her scream. I was grateful.

In what seemed far too little time, the vampire had been burned to ash, leaving not even bones behind. Several small flames still smouldered in the ash, burning away whatever was left. The fire started licking up the walls. The wallpaper caught.

Oh, shit.

I’d just set off an incendiary weapon indoors.

I stumbled past the ash pile and back to the cafeteria. Ponies were picking themselves up, rubbing their eyes, mumbling. I quickly found Cascadia in a far corner of the room. “Swan!” she said. “What just-”

“We need to get out of here,” I said quickly. “The building’s on fire.”

Cascadia blinked twice. Without a single change in expression. She flattened her ears back. “Swan. Why is the building on fire.”

I cringed. “I wasn’t thinking and shot a vampire with a flare gun.”

“Great.”

“And… it’s… kinda on the way to the entrance.” I poked my head out the door and glanced down the hall. The flames were growing. Smoke covered the ceiling and was rolling down the hall.

“Lynden’s halfway-decent with shields,” Cascadia said, half to herself. “She can protect us. Probably.”

“I beg pardon,” said Homeguard, poking his head in, “but did you say a fire blocks our way out?” He bit his lip, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen him.

“Yeah.

“I- I have a fireproof suit,” said Homeguard. “For my job. In case I need to enter into burning buildings to rescue those trapped inside. I- I must have it before-”

“It’ll just be for a few seconds,” said Cascadia, “and if you keep moving, your burns won’t be that ba-”

“I am a vampire,” snapped Homeguard. “Fire merely burns you, but it is anathema to me.”

“Fine. Go get your suit.”

Homeguard didn’t even take the door. He punched his way through the wall into the fire station half of the building and vanished. A couple of ponies stared.

“What kind of highly flammable vampire becomes a firepony in the first place?” muttered Cascadia to herself, and shook her head. To the whole room, she said, “Bad news, ponies. The place is on fire. Good news is it’s not too big yet, so we can still get out. Lynden, do you think you block it?”

“Against fire?” said a unicorn. “In my sleep.”

“Good. Get ready to move, everypony, before-”

“No.”

Rebirth, still carrying her gilded saddlebag, was standing in the doorway, grinning madly, levitating large chunks of burning wood behind her. She pitched them into the room, at the hole Homeguard had vanished through. All the ponies managed to duck out of the way, but once the wood hit the wall, fire raced across it supernaturally fast, sending a scorching wave of heat at us. Ponies screamed as they stumbled back and I felt like I was being roasted.

Rebirth didn’t notice the heat at all. “You’re not leaving this room,” she said in a giggly voice. “With no vampire to protect you, you’re just-”

Cascadia telekinetically pitched a table at her. Some other vampire, one who’d taken the threat we posed seriously, probably could’ve dodged it. Rebirth, caught up in her grandiose speechifying, took it full in the face. When she hit the wall, something snapped, and I saw Rebirth’s horn go flying across the room. At the same time, her saddlebag flew open and something skittered across the floor. I took a quick look and cringed.

A horn. A whole unicorn’s horn, bloodred, curved, pointy, evil-looking. I gagged just looking at it.

“Father!” screamed Rebirth. “No!” She dove for the horn, but Cascadia yanked it away and Rebirth fell flat on her muzzle.

“You want this?” asked Cascadia. She waved the horn over the fire. “Stay back, or it’s going in!”

“You can’t! You wouldn’t!” shrieked Rebirth. But she didn’t move forward at all. “You are not fit to touch the great Sombra’s horn! If you-”

A figure exploded through the fire in the hole in the wall, dressed in the gear of a rescue firepony. I caught a glimpse of Homeguard’s face through the breath mask right before he tackled Rebirth to the ground. He stomped several times, and I heard Rebirth’s bones snap. “Go!” he yelled at us. He wrapped his front legs around Rebirth’s trunk. She screamed, beating at him, but it was no use. He rolled the two of them back into the fire.

“Out! Out! Everypony out!” screamed Cascadia. But with Rebirth gone, most of the ponies were already making for the exit. Lynden’s shields were already up, and she was shuffling ponies through the gap in the flames. “Leg over my shoulder, come on,” Cascadia said to me. I yelped as she telekinetically grabbed my bad ankle and swung it over her withers. With her supporting me and the flames briefly contained, we half-stumbled, half-scrambled through the station.

By now, smoke was everywhere. When I opened my eyes, they burned and I could barely see. My lungs felt scorched every time I drew breath. Cascadia moved quickly and I struggled to keep up with her. The horn she was still carrying kept bumping against my side. Then, suddenly, my hooves were clopping against cobblestones, not linoleum. I gasped; the air was cool. One of my hooves caught on a crack in the road. I slipped off of Cascadia and fell, but I barely felt it. I was out. We were out.

I would’ve been content to just sit there and fall asleep, but I heard somepony yelp and a lot of rustling. I looked up. Two vampires — and only two, a mare and a stallion — were staring at us nervously. Sourceless fire was wrapped around the mare’s hooves, although it didn’t seem to hurt her and she didn’t look like she wanted to attack us. Everypony who had a crossbow was pointing it at the vampires, but nopony looked ready to shoot.

Just as the word “standoff” popped into my head, Cascadia stepped forward. “If you leave and don’t come back,” she said, sounding like she knew what she was doing, “we won’t hurt you.”

The two vampires looked at each other. The flames around the mare vanished. “Screw this,” she muttered. “Once Speckle died, we should’ve chosen another town, anyway.” Then she turned around and ran into the night. The other one raised his hoof, paused, and bolted after her.

Behind us, the station house crackled, popped, and hissed. Homeguard, still in his firepony’s uniform, trotted out of the doorway. He removed the smoke mask and looked at where the vampires had vanished. “Rebirth is dead. As for those two, they shall not be coming back. And Hailey…” He glanced upwards.

Half a second later, Hailey dropped from the sky, not even pretending to slow her descent with wings. She looked at the station house, then raised an eyebrow at me. “Did I miss something?”

“Long story,” I said. I pushed myself up so I was sitting on my rump. “I’ll tell you later.”

“Oh, and just so you know, Bay’s fine. She was outside when Rebirth put the shield back up and couldn’t get back in. I told her to stick around Levanta’s shelter.”

“Hailey,” said Homeguard. “You and I ought to patrol the area. Tributary and two other vampires left after Rebirth entered the station, correctly assuming she would not survive. From the sound of their thoughts, I doubt that they will return, but we must be certain, and there may be other vampires in the forest that did not come with Crystalline’s main force.”

“Alright,” said Hailey. She saluted to us. “Be back in a bit! No vamps left in these parts, so take a load off.” She and Homeguard vanished into the darkness.

Silence, except for the roaring fire. Part of the station’s roof collapsed.

“So,” somepony said, “are we gonna do anything about the fire?”

“You!” Cascadia pointed at a pegasus. “Get to the weather pegasi, tell them we need a downpour at the station. I don’t want the fire spreading.”

The pegasus saluted and rocketed off. Nopony said anything. Then somepony started laughing. Sighs of relief ran through the crowd. At first, I didn’t know why, before I remembered what Hailey had said. I ran the numbers, and… yes, she was right. All of the surviving vampires had decided to cut their losses and leave.

The town was vampire-free. Delta was fine. Everypony was safe and alive. We’d won.

I felt like I’d gotten the wind knocked out of me as the full extent of the situation hit. We were done. I had nothing to worry about. No vampires, no lying, no animal-killing monsters, nothing. After the last few weeks, it was a very strange feeling, although not an unwelcome one.

Next to me, Cascadia squinted at the horn, slowly turned it over. I was surprised she still had it. “So, this is Sombra’s horn?”

“Yep.”

“With which the vampires were going to resurrect him.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So…” With a telekinetic flick, Cascadia tossed the horn into the fire. “I just perma-killed King Sombra himself.”

“I guess. We’ll have to check to be sure the horn’s actually destroyed, though.”

“Right.”

“Rebirth’s, too. Nice shot, by the way.”

“Thanks.”

For several long moments, Cascadia and I stared at the remains of the burning station. I wanted to take part in the other ponies’ celebration, but I was too tired, too hurt for it to really come. I waited for it to get worse — the smoke to turn into Sombra, the sky to turn to blood, the fire to come to life and start chasing us — but nothing did. Some detached part of me wanted to get marshmallows. Somepony whooped into the night. Then, suddenly, all of me wanted to get marshmallows. And not even necessarily to roast; I needed something sweet and marshmallows fit the bill. Above us, the first pegasus swooped in with the first raincloud.

“Swan?”

“Yes, Cascadia?”

“This has been a fucking weird month.”

“Yes, Cascadia.”
> 28 - Standing in the Sun
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The downpour summoned by the weather pegasi made short work of the burning station. Turns out living in a town where rain is scheduled about eighty percent of the time means they’re really good at gathering and dispensing rain quickly. Who’da thunk?

The ponies spread out quickly, spreading the news to the other groups still in Delta and letting the ponies in the shelters know it was safe to come out. Within minutes, I could hear sounds of celebration all across town. Cheers, hollers, whoops, even a few bangs as some unicorns let off some makeshift fireworks. I leaned against Cascadia and together we limped towards Levanta’s shelter.

It wasn’t until we were halfway there when I realized what she was doing. “Hang on. You’re the sheriff,” I said to Cascadia. “Shouldn’t you be… I don’t know, organizing ponies or something? I can walk there.” Technically.

“They can organize themselves for fifteen minutes,” Cascadia said, waving a hoof. “It’s not like there’s anything going on we need to handle. Let them have their fun a little. Besides, I owe you. You really saved our butts.”

“I burned the police station down.”

Cascadia glanced over her shoulder at the smoke still rising from the smouldering building and chuckled. “Okay, right, yeah. I don’t know how insurance is going to cover that. But-” She grinned at me and tapped me on the chest. “You killed a vampire chimera. You freed Homeguard from a vampire’s control when everypony else was helpless. You killed another vampire in the process of burning the police station down. And even before that, you went against his wishes and told us everything you could about Crystalline. If it weren’t for you, probably everypony in the town would be dead right now. I can let a little accidental arson slide.”

“It sounds a lot cooler when you say it.”

“That sort of stuff always does. You were making it up as you went along, weren’t you?”

“Kinda.”

“That’s what all the best action heroines do. You know how clumsy and lucky you were, but I sure don’t. Really, helping you find your daughter is the least I can do.”

“Well, then, thanks.”

There were a crowd outside the shelter, everypony hugging or talking or laughing or somehow releasing their joy. I even saw a few dancing. I lightly pushed Cascadia away. “I got it from here.”

“Take care,” Cascadia said with a nod. “And remember to get that cut taken care of.”

“Hmm?” I glanced at the cut on my side. It was still bleeding, although parts were scabbing over. Not too serious, but it could still make a mess. “Right. I’ll do that.”

I turned my attention to the crowd. I couldn’t see Levanta in it, but given how many ponies there were, that meant precisely nothing. She might not even be on the ground. “Levanta!” I yelled. “Levanta! It’s your mom! I’m-”

Something fell on me. Most of my weight was forced onto my bad leg and I felt like my ankle was getting crushed in a vise. “Motherfuck!” I shrieked in combined surprise and agony.

“Moooooom. Language.”

I finally realized the pony hanging off me was Levanta. She hugged me tightly, and I hugged back, careful not to aggravate my fetlock any further. “Sorry,” I said, “but I broke my ankle.”

Levanta quickly detached herself. “Sorry,” she said. “I- just- Did you really kill a vampire chimera? Bay says you did, but…”

“I stabbed it through the heart with our ‘For Sale’ sign.”

Levanta’s jaw dropped. “Holy crow.”

“What?” I joked. “Didn’t you think I could handle it?”

“…It’s a vampire chimera, Mom. I know you’re a ranger, but dang.”

“I also burned down the police station.”

“…Uh-”

“It’s a long story. I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I heard Bay yell, “Hey!” She zipped out of the crowd and landed next to us. “Did she tell you?” she squeaked. “About the chimera? Did she did she did she? It was awesome!”

“Yeah,” Levanta said with a grin. “Sounds like it.” She glanced at the crowd. “S-so, uh, if Crystalline’s gone, what now? Do you… want me to come home or… something?”

I guess a night of vampire slaying had made me more lenient. Maybe it was just the overall upbeat atmosphere. Maybe the adrenaline crash was hitting and I simply didn’t want to bother. “I’m going home to sleep, but you can stay up. Just don’t stay up too long, okay? We do need to go back to regular time sooner or later. And don’t do anything stupid.”

Levanta’s ears went up and her tail twitched. “Really?”

“Sure. I think it’s okay, if only for tonight.”

“Cool! Thanks, Mom!” Levanta jumped on me (I winced as yet more weight went on my ankle), hugged me, then dashed off into the night, closely followed by Bay. Part of me wanted to go with her, but another part had run out of youthful energy like that a long time ago. I slowly limped home.

The ashes of the dead vampires were still spread across the lawn. In particular, the chimera’s pile of ashes nearly came up to my fetlock. I wondered how long they’d be there. Would wind blow them away? Would rain wash them away? How easily? They couldn’t be stuck there, right? I’d never dealt with ashes much before. I paid them no mind as I entered my house; I was too tired.

I stumbled up the stairs, limped to the bathroom, and stripped off my clothes. I poked at my cut. It twinged slightly, but not too badly. Luckily, as a ranger, I knew more than basic first aid and always kept supplies around. I had it bandaged, beginning to end, in less than a minute. Thank heavens for spells that made long dressings themselves sticky, or else I’d have used up a year’s supply of band aids covering the cut up if I wasn’t able to wrap bandages around my trunk. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do anything about my ankle at the moment; I didn’t have any splints. I loped back into my room and finally rolled into bed.

Since the only thing I really needed to worry about was my ankle, for the first time in weeks, I slept like a sunblasted log.





I woke up feeling oppressed by the lack of responsibility. Delta’s animal problem? Solved. Vampires willing to kill me to keep their existence a secret? Solved. A vampire willing to kill me because I was vaguely involved in the death of her boyfriend? Solved. Lying to Cascadia about Delta’s animal problem? Solved. Vampires coming to kill the whole town? Solved. I had nothing I needed to take care of.

I rolled over in my bed and my ankle screamed. Stupid of me to forget that.

But my ankle was okay as long as I kept it still, so I spent the next half-hour or so sleeping in without any stresses whatsoever. I could almost feel my brain unravelling; after spending the last few weeks having it wound tighter than a drum, it was a nice feeling. Eventually, I decided it was time to face the real world again; if nothing else, I needed my ankle splinted. I hobbled down to Levanta’s room and quietly peeked in. She was flopped out on her bed, snoozing soundly. Bay was at the window, staring out. “Hey,” said Bay. Her voice was a little flat.

“Hey. Can’t sleep?” I asked. I already knew the answer, but it was a lead-in to conversation.

“No. I haven’t needed to sleep since… since I…”

“Yeah.” I limped into the room and sat down next to her. “Are you handling it okay? You seemed alright for the past week.”

“Once ponies were being nice, it- it was kinda cool,” said Bay, sounding almost guilty. “I couldn’t get tired, I didn’t need to eat, I couldn’t get hurt, and I-” She looked at me with big eyes. “I could see a whole new color. I don’t- I don’t know how to describe it. It’s literally like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

Interesting. Neither Homeguard nor Hailey had ever said anything about that. “Was it infrared?” I suggested. “Or maybe ultraviolet?”

“I, I think it was UV,” said Bay. “It, it made flowers look different, and I heard in school that- that bees can see UV.” She swallowed. “So being a vampire was cool at first. But when the shelters were opened last night, me and Levanta and some of our friends, we went to a candy store that somepony had said they’d open. I tried some chocolate and- it tasted terrible. I tried other stuff, but nothing tastes good anymore. Nothing but- but-” She folded her ears back and looked down.

“Blood.” It was better to come out and say it.

“Y-yeah.” Bay ran a hoof along an unruly bang and looped it over her ear. “And when Levanta fell asleep, I started thinking. And- I’m not going to see my mom and dad again, am I? Or any of my friends. ’Cause Homeguard keeps saying we have to keep ourselves secret. Even though Delta likes him just fine.”

“Well, I’ve been thinking about that,” I said, “and I was going to try to persuade him to talk to Princess Twilight or somepony about revealing vampirism to Equestria at large. Maybe you’ll be able to see them again, but that’s a very big ‘maybe’.” I didn’t want to get her hopes up in case this crashed and burned, but I was pretty confident it’d go just fine. If I could convince Homeguard of it.

“Yeah, right,” Bay said with a snort. “And then I kept thinking, and- I’m stuck like this forever. Not just ‘a really long time’, literally forever. I- I wanted to be a wood carver when I grew up, but now I’m not gonna grow up, all because-” She stopped and sniffed. She whispered, “I-I don’t wanna be a vampire anymore.”

I squirmed internally. She was a kid. She shouldn’t have to through with this. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly, “but you can’t go back to being a pony.”

“I-” Bay wiped at her eyes. “I know.”

After maybe a second, I reached a hoof around her neck and pulled her close to me. She flared a wing, scooped it around my body, and wrapped her front hooves around my free leg. My broken ankle throbbed and Bay’s body was deathly cold, but I barely noticed either of them. They didn’t matter at all.

“I can’t cure you,” I said, “but I promise you, I’ll do the absolute best I can to make sure you don’t need to hide. Just because things can’t go back to the way they were doesn’t mean you need to abandon your old life completely. I swear, I’ll get Homeguard to talk to somepony if I have to drag him, kicking and screaming, to Canterlot myself.”

Bay rubbed her face into my leg. “Th-thanks.”

I twitched a little. “Careful, that’s my bad leg.”

“Sorry,” Bay said, loosening her grip.

“You need anything else?”

“N-not right now.”

“If you do, just let me know.”

“Uh-huh.” Bay glanced at Levanta, who hadn’t so much as twitched. “Is she always this heavy a sleeper?”

“You have no idea.”





Homeguard was waiting for me when I headed downstairs, a saddlebag at his side. “I hope you do not mind my entering,” he said, “but Hailey said you would be stopping by for medical assistance, and I decided it was best to cut out the middlemare.”

“Nah, you’re fine.” I dropped onto the couch. I dropped onto the couch and held my hoof out. By now, the area around my fetlock was quite swollen. “Broken ankle, didn’t have anything to splint it with.”

“Hmm.” Homeguard took my hoof in his. I braced myself for pain as he handled it, but he was incredibly gentle and never aggravated it. Of course, he was a doctor. “I would have to see an X-ray to know for certain, but I do not think it is too badly damaged. Can you put weight on it?”

“Only technically,” I said. “I can walk to the doctor’s office, but-”

“No, that shall not be necessary,” said Homeguard, lightly putting a hoof on my shoulder. “If you spare me a moment…” He rooted through his bag, then pulled out a few packets of single pills. “So long as you do not stress it unduly and take one of these every morning, I do not imagine you requiring anything more than a splint and an immobilization boot for long.”

“Really? What are they?” The pills didn’t look particularly special, but that meant precisely jack squat.

“Healing accelerants,” explained Homeguard. “The enchantments within them will temporarily increase the rate at which your body heals itself and even prevent it from healing improperly. So long as you do not make the injury worse, your leg will be as good as new within a week rather than six or seven. Hailey and I had bought a plethora of them in case last night had been more violent than it turned out to be.”

“Huh.” I worked one pill out of its case and examined it. It looked like an aspirin in every way, but it felt slightly tingly. “I thought this sort of thing was only available to aristocrats with more money than sense.”

Homeguard smirked. “I live with somepony who can accurately predict the future. You would be surprised at how often her visions pertain to the stock market. Trust me, in spite of our modest living arrangements, Hailey and I are quite well off.”

“Well, thanks.” I didn’t need any water; I just put the pill on my tongue, tilted my head back, and swallowed. I twitched; it felt like a spark had landed in my stomach. “One every morning?”

“For a week, and you ought not to put too much stress on that hoof.”

“I know.” My hoof still burned. I should’ve put an ice pack in the freezer yesterday, but I was too tired. I’d do it once Homeguard was gone. “So, um, did you find any vampires last night?”

Homeguard dug through his bag again and laid out a set of splints and some bandages. “Tributary and a few others remained unaccounted for, but Hailey thinks it highly unlikely that they shall return, and I agree with her. Perhaps Rebirth would have returned, but the vampires that fled have a modicum of intelligence. Speaking of which, I noticed Cascadia had stolen Sombra’s horn from Rebirth-”

“She threw it in the fire, but we both agreed to look for it once the fire was out.”

“Good. Something like that will not be difficult to find, although I doubt it survived. Now, if you would please hold your hoof out…” I did so; Homeguard put the splints in place and wound the bandage around my leg, securing them. “Tell me if it gets to be too painful.”

“Yep.” Fortunately, it was just tight enough. “So if the vampires last night made up most of Crystalline, what’re vampires going to do now? There’s a big power vacuum.”

“I do not know,” Homeguard said with a sigh. “It will take time for the news to spread, and it is entirely possible that vampires will not believe it. For Crystalline to have dominated the scene for over a millennium, only to be destroyed in a single night by mere ponies…”

“And if the vampires do believe it?”

“I cannot say. Again, Crystalline was destroyed by ponies.” Deeming the amount of wraps to be sufficient, Homeguard snapped the bandage off and secured the end. “Obviously, you are not the weak, helpless prey Crystalline said you were, at least not while prepared. But while vampires may continue to hide to protect themselves-”

I coughed. “Yeah, about that…” I took a deep breath. “I think we should tell one of the princesses about vampires. Delta took it alright.”

“No,” Homeguard said so quickly I knew he hadn’t really thought about it. “Delta- Delta is- a- special case. I cannot imagine- ponies accepting- monsters who drink blood.”

“Is that all?” I barely kept myself from rolling my eyes. “Look, let’s just go to Princess Twilight. Isn’t she running a school or something that accepts changelings and griffons? She’ll understand if nopony else does.”

Homeguard opened his mouth again, then closed it. Was I finally getting to him? “That… sounds…” He shook his head, as if he was confused. “While I… would certainly enjoy not having to hide myself, I… I do not think that revealing myself now is the best option.”

“Why not?”

“Be- Because… it…”

“Give me a reason why we shouldn’t go in the next sixty seconds. One you haven’t given to me before, since they obviously haven’t convinced me.”

I stopped talking. Homeguard stayed silent. He opened his mouth a few times, but never managed to say anything. The clock kept tick-tick-ticking loudly. I counted off the seconds, and when sixty went by, I nodded. “We’re going. Not today, maybe not this week, maybe not even this year, but we’re going.”

“No,” said Homeguard. “We are not going.”

“We’re going.”

“We are not going.”

“I’m going to keep pressing you until you cave, you know.”

“I have lived in excess of a millennium. You wearing me down is… highly doubtful.”

“We’ll see.”





The ease with which Delta slid back into its normal routine was both surprising and not. On the one hoof, holy crow there were vampires here. On the other, the only vampires still here are Homeguard and Hailey, and they’ve been here for years already, so what’s the big deal? The adults tried to get back into their rut as soon as possible, and for the most part, succeeded. The kids, on the other hoof…

When Levanta came back from school the first “normal again” day, she was complaining. “There were vampires here two nights ago!” she said as she dropped her bag on the floor. “Vampires! How am I supposed to concentrate after that?!”

“By concentrating,” I said from my place on the couch. It was the best I could come up with; just because I didn’t have anything to worry about didn’t mean sitting around did wonders for my body. “When would you start again otherwise?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Levanta protested. “A week? We worked all last week! We need a break!”

“I worked more than twice as much as you and the only reason I’m not up and working is because I can’t be.” I waved my bandaged hoof at her.

“You’re an adult! You don’t get to have breaks!”

“But if your teachers are adults, then they don’t get to have breaks, which means their charges don’t get to have breaks, which means-”

Levanta snorted. “Very funny, Mom.” She slung her backpack back over her withers and made for the staircase. “Anyway, got some homework, ’cause apparently that’s required, according to you…”

“Think you’ll need any help?” I wasn’t sure how much good my help would be, but I could offer it.

“Nah. The only class I really have homework in is biology and I learned a lot from you.” At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and looked back at me. “Do you need me to get you anything?”

“Not until dinner,” I said, shaking my head.

Levanta nodded and turned back to the stairs. She stopped again. Then she dropped her bag, trotted over to me, and grabbed me in a hug. “Love you, Mom.”

I hugged her back. “Love you too, hon.”

“Thanks for keeping me safe,” she whispered.

I squeezed. “Sure.”





Two days later, I felt well enough to limp to the police station as long as I took it slow. My hoof still twinged a tiny bit when I put weight on it, but it was healing well. To my surprise, the station seemed intact. A closer look revealed that the ponies of Delta were really speedy when it came to construction. After the last week, that wasn’t that surprising.

Parts of where the interior had been burned and replaced still had the smell of new paint, while others hadn’t been touched up yet. A few plastic sheets and paint cans were sitting at the border of painted and not-painted. The layout, at least what I saw, was the same as before. Cops and firefighters brushed back and forth past me, mostly with papers. There were a few nods, but mostly, they were preoccupied with whatever work they were doing.

I pushed into Cascadia’s office. She had several large stacks of paper on her desk and kept glancing at the papers in one stack, jotting stuff down, and moving them to another stack. She looked up and motioned for me to sit down. “What’s going on?” I asked as I took a seat.

“We’re checking to see what files we did or didn’t lose in the fire,” Cascadia said as she skimmed through her papers.

I cringed. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

“It’s alright,” Cascadia said. “So far, it’s looking like we didn’t lose much. It seems my predecessor had the filing cabinets fireproofed. And all the important stuff’s in the town hall, anyway.”

“Good,” I said, nodding. “And how’s the town holding up? After… you know, everything.”

“Fine. Fine,” said Cascadia. She paused. “I think. There might be a pony or two who’s going to break down in the next week, but don’t worry your tail over that. The biggest thing now is handling the companies who want to know why we missed last week’s lumber shipments.”

“Is there anything-”

“Unless you’ve got any experience with corporate negotiation, no.”

“Then, no. What’ll you say to them?”

“That it’s classified.” Cascadia looked up. “ ’Cause it is, right? Homeguard probably doesn’t want the whole hemovore thing getting out just yet, and it’s technically part of your investigation, so…”

To be honest, I wasn’t sure I had the authority to classify anything or even how I’d go about classifying it in the first place. I’d never heard of any ranger who had needed to. But it was as good an excuse as any. “Sure. It’s classified.”

“Great.” Cascadia paused again and coughed. “So, uh, I’ve never worked with a ranger before. What’ll you do now?”

“Stay here until I get called out to some other town to investigate some other issue with animals.” I shrugged. “Really, a ranger’s mobile position. I’ve moved over a dozen times since I’ve started. Still, the law means I can’t be called out for another year at least, so you’re stuck with me until then.”

Cascadia bit her lip and looked up as she drummed her hoof on the table. Then she said, “You’re not averse to getting small animals to hibernate, are you? Because trying to corral all the rabbits and whatnot around here for that is a pain.”

I nodded. “Easy-peasy. After vampires, spending a week tucking bunnies in would be heaven. It’s a routine part of being a ranger.”

“It’s not scheduled for another moon or so, but great.”

“Speaking of work, I was wondering if you had any sort of paperwork for me. Normally, I’d do a patrol of the area to get a better idea of it, but…” I held up my splinted leg and grinned apologetically. “And I don’t really like just sitting around.”

“If mind-numbing paperwork’s all you want, go talk to Blue Canary. She’s running the whole show right now. Get a bunch of files, briefly record what they cover, rinse and repeat. Right, down the hall, records room a few doors down.”

A few minutes later, I was sitting in the cafeteria, examining arrest records from several decades ago and jotting them down. Hardwood, 968 CE, drunk and disorderly… Coriander, 971 CE, shoplifting… Sweet Ivy, 970 CE, assault…

I suddenly realized Homeguard was sitting across from me, going through four or five files in the time it took me to do one. “Hello,” he said. “I presume your healing goes as planned.”

“Yeah, those pills’re working great,” I said. Time to press the issue of the week. “How’s Delta treating you?”

“Boysenberry is peeved that I technically cheated on a drinking game several years back,” he said eventually, “but… apart from that… Many of the firefighters I worked with vouched for my character, and as it was never an act…”

“So what do you think?” I asked. “Are we going to see Pr-”

“No,” he said reflexively. He looked me in the eye. “Not yet.”

I looked straight back and smiled aggressively. “I’m not going to let up anytime soon, you know.”

Homeguard’s smile was both less and more aggressive at the same time. “Neither shall I.”





“How did I let you talk me into this?” Homeguard asked as the train steamed up to the platform.

“A metric crapton of needling,” I said, “plus some genuinely persuasive arguments. And it only took, what, a week?”

With no train stations in Delta, we’d needed to go to Seaddle. Ponyville was halfway across the country and even Homeguard would have been hesitant to run that far. The pills Homeguard had given me had worked like the charm they were; after only a week of healing, I could put weight on my “bad” hoof without it feeling like it was going to split in two. I avoided galloping, but couldn’t feel any damage from the hundred-plus-mile walk we’d just done.

“Again, must we do this now?” said Homeguard. “I would- prefer to- adjust to the new situ-”

“Again, it’s been a week. You’ve adjusted.”

“I was jarred out of a rut I have been in for beyond a millennium. I have not yet fully adjusted.”

“Tough shit. If I don’t take you now, you’ll never go.” But I knew Homeguard was only spitting out his responses thanks to habit. If he hadn’t been, he would’ve lowered his voice so his “millennium” comment wouldn’t have attracted any strange looks as passengers filed out of the train.

“Perhaps,” said Homeguard, “but I- I doubt that we should go so big so quickly. Could we not talk to a lesser authority?”

I tilted my head a little. “Is this about approachability?”

“To- a- certain extent.” Homeguard looked away. “One way or another, she is a princess. I cannot imagine she would take kindly to absolute strangers stopping by unannounced.”

“Did you know that, for the first year or so after she became a princess, Twilight still lived in a library? And that school she established, she runs it herself. It’s not just something she threw money at to get started. If half the stories I’ve heard about her are true, her reaction to us breaking into her castle would be to ask us what we wanted for lunch.”

“P-perhaps,” said Homeguard, still resolutely looking away, “but she is- she- I doubt that-”

“Oh, come on,” I said as I stepped into the train. “You’re overreacting. Twilight’s not worth making such a fuss over.”