The Portsmith family is a regular American family living in Denver in 1986. Life is hard, but it is about to get harder when they find themselves hunted by something that is not of this Earth.
The Portsmith family is a regular American family living in Denver in 1986. Life is hard, but it is about to get harder when they find themselves hunted by something that is not of this Earth.
Tag explanation: A few scenes of extreme violence. One of the characters is a smoker, so tagging narcotics—some occasional swearing, but nothing too heavy.
One thing that any parent had to deal with was the inevitable nightmare that their kid refused to believe was just that.
"But there was a monster outside my window!" Charlotte cried from the doorway, refusing to come back into her room. "It looked like a pony with bat wings, like a vampire pony. A monster pony!"
Wendy suppressed a groan as she stepped away from the window. It wouldn't do anyone any good for her daughter to see her being dismissive. There wasn't anything to see out the window aside from the side of their neighbor's house. At least she could say her daughter had a creative imagination. It wasn't just a vampire outside her window; it was a vampire pony.
Her husband, Charles, opened the closet and made a show of looking inside before turning towards Charlotte. "Nothing in here either, hun. You just had a bad dream."
The six-year-old gave a defiant stomp of her foot. "No! It was outside the window, on top of the neighbor's house."
"And how did you see it?" Wendy asked, wanting to get this over with. She loved her children, but it was three in the morning, and she had to get up in less than three hours.
"I saw it out the window!" Charlotte repeated, missing the critical part of why the question was being asked.
Wendy looked at the layout of the room. The majority of space was taken up by the pair of mattresses stacked on top of one another—she regretted they didn't have a proper bed frame or even box spring, but they made due. There was just enough narrow path to walk beside the bed from the door to a second door that led into the two elder daughters' room. A second narrow path separated the bed from the dresser and closet; an old black and white television sat on top of the dresser. The window was situated so that the bed ran underneath it, but it was the foot of the bed, not the part of the bed that Charlotte would have been sleeping on. The location of her pillow confirmed this by being at the head of the bed with the blanket bundled together next to it.
"Were you up?" Wendy asked.
"No," Charlotte denied quickly, not even thinking about how it made her story impossible.
Wendy looked at the TV again. Letting Charlotte have that might have been a mistake. She'd no doubt been up, watching some late-night movie that children had no business watching and gotten herself spooked to the point she wanted company. Andrea and Kristin kept their adjoining door locked, so those two were out as options to run to—not that they'd be very sympathetic to their baby sister. This entire story was Charlotte's way to cover for herself while getting attention.
She wasn't going to fuss at her daughter about it right now. It was late, and everyone needed to sleep.
"Well, I guess we scared it away," Wendy announced. "It was probably just an owl or something you couldn't see well in the dark. It can't get in anyway; the window is shut. Even if it were a horse, a horse would never fit through your window."
"It wasn't a horse; it was a pony. It was little, like a baby horse," Charlotte protested, still refusing to come into the room.
"Go to sleep. We have school in the morning!" Andrea called out through the door to the other room.
Charles stepped through the mess of toys, nearly tripping over a robot, and put his head next to the other girls' door. "Hey! You two lay down and go to sleep. Your mother and I are dealing with Charlotte."
There was a muffled response that Wendy couldn't make out. It hadn't done a thing to budge her youngest from the doorway. She really should be firmer, especially since Charlotte was clearly lying, but then again, Charlotte was only six, and she couldn't bring herself to be harsh. Still, something needed to be done to settle Charlotte down.
"How about you sleep with us for the rest of the night?" Wendy suggested as she walked over and wrapped an arm around her daughter. "Just for tonight. You're getting to be a big girl and need to learn to be brave."
"But it was a vampire pony, Mommy," Charlotte continued to insist as she leaned into the hug.
Wendy took a deep breath. Just don't respond to it, and she would drop it. "How about you go potty and then head into Mommy and Daddy's bed? We'll be right there."
Charlotte hugged her tighter for a second. "Okay, Mommy. You promise to keep the vampire pony away?"
"I promise," Wendy assured her. She then gave her daughter a nudge. "Go on. We'll be there in a second."
Charlotte hurried over to the bathroom and closed the door. It wasn't a long trip. The hallway, if you wanted to call it that, consisted of just the door to Charlotte's room, their bedroom, the bathroom, and a closet, and opened straight out into the living room. The bathroom door frame was practically touching the ones for Charlotte's bedroom and the closet, and it was less than eight feet from Wendy and Charles's bedroom to the bathroom. It didn't just feel cramped; it was cramped.
"We really need to get on her about picking up these toys," Charles said as he navigated his way back beside her.
She gripped his hand as he reached her. "Where would she even put them? There's barely any room in her closet."
Charles sighed and squeezed her hand. "I'll work on the expansion in the back some more this weekend. Once I get those extra two rooms built, we'll have tons of space."
She nodded, saying nothing. He had been working on those back rooms since they moved into this place. The project had actually been started by the house's former residents and was now Charles's pet project. Over half their house had been additions to the original structure carried out by successive residents who had rooms too small and plenty of yard to expand into. Their house was not unique around here for being like that; the whole neighborhood was like that. The entire community had been built as too small cinder block homes with big yards, and every one of them had a hodgepodge of additions to them. If there were ever a homeowners association here, they would have all died of shock long ago from the lack of uniformity.
"You tuck her in. I'll be along in a few minutes. I'm going to have a quick drink and smoke to settle down," Wendy said, giving one last squeeze of her hand before releasing. "I stick my head in Andrea and Kristin's room while I'm at it, just to make sure they did go back to bed."
He kissed her. "Just don't fall asleep on the couch again. It's not good for your back."
She gave him a soft playful shove. "My back is fine. I'll be in bed soon. I promise."
Wendy heard the toilet flush as she walked out to the living room. A second later, the door opened, and Charles and Charlotte silently retreated into the bedroom.
It wasn't so dark that Wendy needed to turn on a light to make her way through the living room. The window blinds only partially blocked out the light, and there was a street lamp at the edge of their front yard. That left the living room dim, but still easily navigable. It curved around to a hallway that she did need to flip the light on for. This hallway was lined with cabinets, and as far as she and Charles could tell, had once been the kitchen before the remodeling had begun. Now it was just a strange narrow room in their oddly put-together house.
She crossed the hallway into the kitchen, flipping that light on as well. The kitchen was the largest room in the house, and Charles identified it as the second room to have been added to the house, after Charlotte's. There was plenty of counter space and cabinets, and there were two dining tables. Even rich people didn't get kitchens this big. It had four doors leading into it—the door she had just come from, a door leading into a laundry room, a door leading into the expansion in progress, and a door leading into the two elder daughters' room. It was this final door that Wendy made her way to.
She cracked open the door just wide enough to stick her head in, not wanting to wake her daughters if they were back to sleep. The room was large, the second largest in the house, and there was a clear division in it done by different types of carpeting. The carpeting had been that way when they first moved in, and Andrea and Kristin used it as their dividing line about who owned what part of the room. The two shared only a beat-up entertainment center near the dividing line with a small color television and an Intellivision game unit. Andrea's bed was on the far end of the room, sharing a wall and a door with Charlotte. Kristin's bed was closer to the kitchen door.
Wendy listened for a moment to confirm both were gently snoring before closing the door. She then went to the refrigerator and grabbed a can't Apple Slice soda. A short walk back through the house, she was back in the living room, sitting on the couch.
After opening the side and taking a quick dip, she fished out a cigarette and lit it up. One quick drag later, she let her eyes fall on the bills and yesterday's newspaper sitting out on the coffee table. The newspaper headlines were about President Reagan negotiating about nuclear arms with the Soviet Union, but there was also a story about the Mets winning their first World Series in seventeen years. There were also several small stories about how to check your kids' candy this Halloween.
Crap, she still needed to pick up some candy to hand out. Halloween was this Friday. The kids all had their costumes. Andrea was going to be a police officer...again—this would be four years in a row for that. If that girl didn't grow up to be in law enforcement, Wendy would eat her own hand. Kristin was going to be a vampire, and Charlotte was going to be a Care Bear. Unfortunately, there weren't going to be any decorations this year, aside from some the kids made in school; the budget was too tight, but they could manage to get some lollipops or candy corn. Her employee discount at K-Mart could be used on that, so it wouldn't be too bad.
She wondered if they would be the odd ones out by not decorating the house for Halloween. Wendy got up and walked to the window, taking a quick drag from her cigarette before peaking out the blinds.
The house directly across the street hadn't been one that she had been planning on looking at, but it was the one her eyes had instantly been drawn to. Its front porch light was on, and a middle-aged woman was sitting out on its porch with a shotgun resting across her lap. That house had been empty with a for sale sign just yesterday morning, and she hadn't seen any moving truck or anything to show anyone was moving in. Still, the sign was gone now, the house had power, and she doubted a squatter would sit so brazenly on the front porch. Wendy wasn't as disturbed by the gun as she might have been if she lived elsewhere, but this neighborhood was relatively poor, practically a ghetto, and it wasn't safe at night. Bloods and Crips gangs were usually out in force at night, and the next street back had a pack of Hell's Angels. If you were going to sit outside at night, it was advisable you have some protection of some kind.
Still, why was she even sitting out on her front porch at three in the morning? The woman didn't seem relaxed either. Her eyes were scanning around the street, even looking up on top of houses. Those eyes passed over where Wendy was spying from, and Wendy quickly closed the blind and retreated back from it before she could be seen spying on her new neighbor. She resolved to go across the street tomorrow after work and introduce herself. In a neighborhood like theirs, it was best to know everyone who lived immediately by you. If you looked out for your neighbors, they would look out for you.
She took a final drag of her cigarette before walking over to the ashtray and stamping it out. It was time to get back to sleep.
Her husband was still awake and waiting for her as she crawled back into bed. Charlotte was on the far side of the bed, next to the wall and window. Their room was just as cramped as hers, perhaps more so, since they had a queen-sized bed and she didn't.
"We have a new neighbor," Wendy whispered as she got into bed beside Charles. "Real charmer. She's sitting out on her porch with a shotgun."
"As long as she isn't prominently wearing blue or red, I don't care," Charles said with a yawn. "Plan on meeting her tomorrow?"
"Yeah, we can go over together after we are both off work," Wendy replied.
"Sounds like a plan," Charles said as he pulled her into a spooning position. "Clock is set. Get some sleep."
Wendy nuzzled into him. Her gaze drifted to the mirror adorning their wall that gave an excellent reflection of the window and the single large tree in the front yard. Was something moving in it? It was the wrong hour for squirrels, and she had never seen a raccoon in this area before; it was too close to the inner city. An owl, maybe?
A gunshot rang out, and one of the branches of the tree shook violently as whatever had been there quickly flew away. Luckily, the shot didn't seem to have woken Charlotte. Gunshots were sadly all too common an occurrence in the area, so common that no one even woke up at the sound of one.
What had been in the tree? Maybe Charlotte had seen something. Perhaps it was a larger bird, like a hawk or eagle. They passed through the area sometimes, and Denver wasn't far from the mountains.
One thing was for sure. It wasn't some fantasy vampire pony.
Morning came, and so did the rush to get the kids fed and off to school. The school was about a mile away, and the girls usually walked to school together. It was safe enough during the daylight hours, and as long as they didn't go wandering off on any side streets. Charles was out the door before the kids were. It was always organized chaos, and it never got any easier.
Yet, each day they somehow managed it, and each day Wendy found herself waiting at the bus stop to go to work. They only had one car, and Charles didn't get a work van for his job, so he needed to take the car each day—aside from the occasional vacation day he took.
The bus stop wasn't far from the house. All the streets in the neighborhood were laid out in straight lines on a grid. There were always ten houses going down the length of each longitudinal side of each road between intersections. The latitudinal streets only had the corner houses of each street along them, with a dirt alleyway between each street just wide enough for the trash truck to make it down. There were four latitudinal streets between each major road, and their house was luckily only one such street away from Montview, which was a major road and had a bus stop right there.
Wendy sat waiting on the bench, flipping through a Reader's Digest to pass the time, when a shadow passed over her.
"Mind if I sit here?"
Wendy looked up to see the woman who had been sitting on the porch across the street, clad in blue jeans and a worn-out-looking t-shirt that read The Simpsons and had badly drawn yellow family on it. Who or what The Simpsons were, Wendy was clueless. Perhaps they were a band? She doubted it was a show, as the woman standing before her looked a little old to be watching cartoons, about twenty years older than Wendy.
Wendy scooted over quickly to make room. "Of course. Bench belongs to everyone, after all. I'm Wendy Portsmith. I think we're neighbors. I believe I spotted you sitting on your front porch last night. I live just across the street."
The woman sat and smiled as she nodded. "I did indeed just move in. I'm Miss Newman, just Miss Newman; I don't use my first name much."
"Any kids or a Mister Newman?" Wendy asked, fishing for information about her new neighbor.
Miss Newman shook her head. "I have three sons and two daughters, but all but my youngest son are grown, and he is currently staying with friends for a few weeks. I also have three granddaughters, a grandson, and, last I counted, two great-grandsons —although I never know when another might be on the way. No significant other. I'm a widow and have been for years."
Wendy gasped, tacking on another ten years to her estimate of the woman's age, although she didn't look that old. "That must be quite the age spread among your children if you have one kid that is still a kid while I'm guessing your eldest is now a grandparent. And you say you have been a widow for years? I don't think I could manage to raise such a large family on my own like that."
"I adopted four of my five, and my eldest daughter was already grown and out of the house before that happened," Miss Newman explained. "It was a tribulation at times, especially since I was widowed before taking on those four, but I had plenty of help. But enough about me. I believe I spotted some toys on your front porch. I'm guessing you have at least one."
"I have three little girls," Wendy gushed. "They can be a handful since they love to fight with one another relentlessly, but they are all very smart and creative. I am sure that all three will end up going to college when they get older and be much more successful than me. I work retail, and it is miserable, I'll tell you. My husband, Charles, has better work; he's an electrician. What kind of work do you do, or are you retired?"
Miss Newman seemed to think about how to answer. "I'm a researcher, although I won't bore you with the details. Let's call me a sociologist. Almost everything you'll find at my house is books and files. I was previously involved in politics and church work, but those days are behind me and not worth talking about."
Wendy was unsure what to make of that. Politics and church work could cover a large number of things, and Miss Newman didn't seem to want to discuss the subject. Maybe it was best to drop that part of the conversation.
"Well, I hope you enjoy living in the neighborhood," Wendy said. "You do need to be careful, though. This area has a lot of gang activity. Don't wear anything bright red or bright blue. Some of these teenage thugs take it the wrong way. I'd stay inside at night too. They like to harass people they come across at night just because they can. The police don't even come down our way at night—everyone on our street kind of looks out for one another instead. I'm sure the Westoffs will want to have a barbeque since you moved in. They kinda take that on themselves. It gives everyone a chance to meet the new neighbor and you a chance to meet all of us. They live two houses down in the house with the fenced-off front yard."
"That sounds lovely," Miss Newman replied. "I avoid most meats. They don't always agree with my gut at certain points in the day, but I can still stop by. I'm not too worried about some teenage hoodlums. I've dealt with people who wanted to start trouble more than once in my day. They find out all too late that I'm not a pushover despite being old and weak."
Wendy pursed her lips. "I don't mean to be a nosey neighbor, but I saw you sitting with a shotgun at around three this morning, and I thought I heard a gunshot. Did you have some trouble?"
Miss Newman frowned and looked away. "Just a stray, scrounging about. I fired a shot to scare him off. He might have normally been a little hard to see in the dark, but I'm exceptional at picking ones like him out from even a distance. I'd be careful. I have a feeling he is part of a pack, and I doubt one gunshot will keep them out of the area. I'd keep your girls in your sight when they're at home. You never know what a wild beast will do if it gets the opportunity."
"I know," Wendy confirmed, nodding vigorously. "My youngest daughter was chased by a dog just last week. The thing chased her all the way home from this end of the street. If she hadn't been on her bike, it would have marked her! I normally don't make calls, but I called animal control for that."
Miss Newman muttered something under her breath, something about memory failing, but Wendy couldn't make it out. The older woman then looked back at her and smiled. "I'm glad she got to safety, and I hope something was done about that dog."
Wendy shook her head. "I'm not sure. I never saw animal control show up, and you were talking about seeing a stray. I hope that vicious thing isn't still lurking about."
"Let's hope," Miss Newman said in agreement, although she didn't seem concerned. She lifted her head and looked down the street, then stood up. "Ah, it seems like your bus is nearly here. I hope you have an uneventful day at K-Mart."
Wendy was about to ask how Miss Newman knew she worked at K-Mart, but then realized that question had an obvious answer. She was wearing her uniform, and the woman must have noticed it through the opening in her jacket.
However, she did note something else. "You aren't waiting for the bus too?" Wendy asked, confused.
Miss Newman shook her head. "Just enjoying a short stroll. I'm working completely out of home. I think I'm going to take a nap now since I expect to have a lot of long hours at night, but I don't set the hours. Have a good day; I've enjoyed talking to you. Keep Charlotte away from any more stray dogs."
How did she not set her hours if she was just researching from home? There was something else off about what the woman had just said, but she couldn't put a finger on it.
Wendy stood up as the bus pulled into a stop. "Pleasant speaking with you as well, Miss Newman. My husband and I might stop by this evening to properly welcome you if it's alright."
Miss Newman waved a hand dismissively. "Quite alright, but maybe better if I stop by your place instead. My place is still a disaster from the move, and I wouldn't be happy having guests just yet. Say around seven?"
"That works for me," Wendy agreed and tried to think about what she could cook for dinner that wouldn't have meat. Perhaps she could make an extra batch of mac and cheese without the hotdogs cut up in it. "I'll see you then. Nice meeting you."
It was only after Wendy had boarded the bus and sat down that she suddenly was struck by the other thing that had thrown her off about Miss Newman's remarks. Had she told Miss Newman Charlotte's name? She must have, but couldn't recall it. Maybe her memory was acting up because of lack of sleep. She'd get an extra-large cup of coffee when she got into work to make sure she was truly alert.
Charles carefully drove the station wagon under the awning next to the house and parked it. For what must have been the hundredth time, he made a note to himself that he needed to look into getting some concrete to lay a proper driveway and to reinforce the poles for the awning before they got too unsteady. However, like all the house projects, that was always balanced against the fact they were just barely making it, and things were getting more expensive all the time. This place wasn't much, but they had hopes that it would be their forever home when they moved in. There were things hoped for, and then there was cold hard reality, and the truth was they might need to soon relocate to somewhere cheaper.
Today, a buddy at work had given him a lead about a good job in Fort Myers, Florida. His friend had explained housing prices were cheaper there too. They could afford decent meals for their kids there and not have to worry about local gangs. It seemed like a perfect opportunity, but he needed to convince Wendy of it, and he knew that would be a challenge. Colorado was where all three of the girls were born, and Wendy too, and he knew she had her heart set on staying here. He didn't like to be the one who had to be serious about things, he was a jokester at heart, but he had to think about what was best for his family.
As he was getting ready to open the front door, he paused. There were a pair of fallen branches underneath the big tree in the front yard. There hadn't been any significant wind today or last night, at least not that he could recall. He walked over to them and looked up at the tree. The lower branches where the kids made their treehouse—just a piece of plywood board that created a platform on one branch—were fine, so these must have fallen from higher up. It took him a few seconds to spot it, but he was able to identify it as one of the mid-branches a little higher up than the kids' sitting area. That branch shouldn't have broken off, even in the wind.
Charles looked down again and put hunting skills his great uncle had taught him to work. He reached down and picked up a leaf. There was dried blood on it. Had one of the kids gotten too bold in their tree climbing and taken a tumble?
He hurried inside and found his three daughters all gathered around the television, their attention glued to the screen as they watched their VHS tape of Rainbow Brite and the Star Stealer, one of the few movies all three girls could watch together in peace. None of them were wearing any bandages or showing any signs of injury. Their cat, Cinnamon, had been lying on the couch when he walked in but bolted from his throne and out the door while it was still half-opened. Cinnamon didn't seem to be limping at all, so it wasn't him that fell from the tree.
Charles walked past the girls who were so enraptured by the TV they probably hadn't noticed him. Their pet cockatiel did take notice of him and began singing happily at the sight of him. He paused and said pretty bird to the pet a few times, which the bird whistled back happily. If only everyone in the world was as easy to please as the cockatiel, who only wanted people to talk to. The world would be a much more pleasant place. He always tried to talk to Pretty whenever he passed the cage so the bird wouldn't get depressed. Charles loved his wife, but aside from feeding the pets, she largely ignored them, and he doubted if she'd even notice if one were behaving oddly. Animals had feelings too and needed to have people reaffirm they loved them.
A short stroll brought him to the kitchen where his wife was working in dinner—mac and cheese with hotdog slices, again. At least it wasn't mac and cheese and freezer-burned fish sticks. He silently swore he would never eat another fish stick again after they ran out of the current supply. It was how they made it by; buying in bulk and living off the same things for months.
He walked behind her and kissed her on the cheek. "Hi, hun. I noticed something or someone broke a branch on the front tree and fell out of it. Are the girls all okay? They looked fine when I came in, but I still wanted to check."
She blinked and looked at him. "Nothing happened that I know of. Maybe it was Cinnamon?"
"Cat seemed fine when I came in, but whatever fell hit the ground hard enough to bleed," Charles answered. "Maybe it was a hawk or falcon last night, and they knocked a squirrel out of the tree before making off with it."
She shrugged. "More likely than a vampire horse."
"Vampire pony," Charles corrected with a chuckle. "Don't let Charlotte hear you calling her monster a horse." He looked at the stove. "Mac and cheese with hot dogs with a side of mac and cheese without hot dogs, we're really branching out on dinner ideas, aren't we?"
Wendy batted him with the wooden spoon she was stirring with. "Our new neighbor is joining us for dinner, and she doesn't care for meat, so I'm making a batch without. She and I had a nice conversation at the bus stop this morning. Her name is Miss Newman. She has lots of children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, but no one living with her."
He smirked. "Are you sure hot dogs count as meat? I'm not sure what is in them, but I'm not sure it's meat."
The girls all ran by towards the back door, giggling.
"Hey, no running in the house!" Wendy called after them. "And don't get dirty! It is almost dinner time, and we have a guest coming over."
The door practically slammed as they went through into the two unfinished rooms and the backyard beyond.
Wendy groaned in despair that they were inevitably going to get dirty before dinner and turned towards Charles. "So, how was work?"
He walked to his seat at the dining room table, took his work jacket off, and draped it over the back of his chair. "Pretty run-of-the-mill calls today, nothing crazy. One thing did come up that I wanted to talk to you about, but we can talk about that after our guest leaves. How was work for you?"
"Typical last few days before a holiday," Wendy replied. "Everyone is buying candy, and a few people were buying Halloween makeup to put together a last-minute costume. Not the longest six-hour shift ever. Oh! I managed to pick up some candy for the trick-or-treaters. I put it up in the top left cabinet in the pantry-hallway so the girls couldn't find it. Are we doing the normal, me chaperoning the girls and you staying home to hand out the candy?"
"Of course!" he said with a laugh. "Do you think I would turn down a chance to use my new comedy material on hundreds of people who will most appreciate it?"
"Giving them the trick and treat then," Wendy giggled. "Just no telling that joke about the mummy's bandages; that is too dirty for children."
"Well, monsters are supposed to be dirty."
"Charles!"
He laughed. "Fine, I won't tell it, but you're crippling my comedy here, Wendy."
The doorbell rang, and they both turned and looked in the direction of the living room.
"That should be Miss Newman," Wendy announced. "Can you let her in? I'm going to start setting out bowls."
He nodded and headed in the appropriate direction. "Sure thing."
A half-minute later, Charles opened the door. Standing there was a middle-aged woman in faded blue jeans and a purple sweater. She stood there, blinking in what seemed surprise to see him. Cinnamon was rubbing against her leg and audibly purring.
"Miss Newman, I presume?" Charles asked when she didn't say a greeting.
She seemed to shake off her… whatever that was and smiled. "Yes, and you must be Mister Portsmith."
"Just call me Charles," Charles replied. "Is everything okay? You seemed a little out of sorts for a second there."
She rapidly nodded. "Yes, you are just… younger than I expected. May I come in?"
He stepped aside to let her in. "People tell me I have a young face. You look younger than I expected, too, considering my wife said you have great-grandchildren."
The woman stepped in and looked around the living room. "I do age rather gracefully. My whole family is rather healthy. My parents are still alive and kicking, and my mother still goes out gardening daily without assistance at her age. I have some older siblings and an aunt that still haven't retired."
Charles nodded along. "Can't fault people for wanting to keep busy." He glanced down at the cat, who had followed Miss Newman in, and was still rubbing against her leg. "Cinnamon there seems to have taken a liking to you. You should feel special; he normally hates strangers and only barely tolerates the rest of us. The only person I have ever seen him eager to see is my youngest daughter."
Miss Newman reached down and ran her hand along the cat's back. "Cats and I normally get along, although I don't have one of my own at the moment." She stood back up straight. "I know that this might seem rude, considering I just got here, but can I use your bathroom? I have a condition where I find myself immediately needing to go out of nowhere, and it can take quite a few minutes."
Ick, older people and their extended bowel movements. I'm not looking forward to that when I get older. Charles thought to himself. "Sure thing, it is right around the corner there. You can't miss it. I'll wait out here in the living room for you."
"Thank you, kindly," Miss Newman replied, then turned and walked around the corner to the house's sole bathroom. A moment later, he heard the door to the bathroom shut and lock. A second after that, he listened to the sink turn on.
Feeling a little awkward waiting for someone in the bathroom that could possibly be in there for an extended period, he decided to sit on the couch. He tried to pet Cinnamon, but the cat's amicable behavior towards Miss Newman hadn't made him any more friendly towards Charles, and the cat shied away from his hand before going and perching atop his large overstuffed recliner.
Minutes passed by, and Charles busied himself looking through the mail for the first few before setting it all aside as the bills were too depressing to look at. He and Wendy would probably need to take on some extra hours again soon, especially with Christmas shopping starting at the end of next month. That meant imposing on the Westoffs to watch the girls again after the girls got off school each day. It wouldn't be the first time, but he hated having to ask the Westoffs to do it. None of the girls were old enough to be left home alone for hours at a time, especially around this neighborhood. Andrea and Kristin could be, for an hour or so, but definitely not Charlotte. He made a mental note to talk to the Westoffs tomorrow when they brought their kids by to trick-or-treat.
Charles looked up as he heard a sound coming from the ceiling. It didn't sound like it was coming from on top of the roof. It sounded like it was in the crawl space. Had a squirrel gotten into it somehow? No, it sounded too heavy to be a squirrel. The crawl space entrance was outside in the backyard. Andrea had been caught climbing on the roof before. Had she done it again, only this time, going into the crawl space? That worried him because it wasn't safe for a variety of reasons. If the ceiling didn't give out under her feet, there were still nests of black widows that inhabited the crawl space above the house and the cellar below. He'd never even gone into the basement because they were so bad.
He frowned and stood up, getting ready to go check the door to the crawl space, when he remembered why he was even sitting on the couch. After a brief bit of indecision, he called out to his guest.
"Miss Newman? I'm going to check something real fast. Just wait out in the living room if I'm not here when you come out," Charles instructed. He waited a second for a reply, but only heard the sound of the sink. She might not have heard him, or he might not have heard her.
Charles hesitated for a few seconds then headed into the kitchen. Wendy already had all the food, drink, and silverware set out on the table and ready to go.
"Hey, Wendy. Mind sitting out in the living room?" he asked. "It isn't that I think our new neighbor is going to go rooting through our bedrooms in my absence, but I'd still feel better if someone was out there."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "Where are you going?"
He pointed at the ceiling. "Something big is up in the crawlspace, too big to have just come in through a little hole in the siding. I want to check to see if Andrea has been climbing up on the roof again and check the door to it."
"The thing is padlocked. There is no way she could get in the crawlspace," Wendy replied. She still started walking towards the living room. "I'll keep an eye on Miss Newman. Be careful checking, and send the girls in."
Charles exited out to the two unfinished rooms. There was an additional door going from them out into the backyard, but it didn't even have a lock on it, and he only had to pull it open and walk through. He immediately was able to clear Andrea of wrongdoing because she was all the way near the back fence shoving the old coal crate the girls had converted into a playhouse. They did this regularly, seemingly never satisfied with where it was located. He quickly spotted Kristin arguing with her sister about where she thought it should be. The three of them had divided up the backyard into zones—or more accurately, Andrea and Kristin had divided it up and given Charlotte a small section and two larger sections for themselves. Andrea was apparently in the process of claiming the box house for her zone.
"Where's your baby sister?" he called out to the older girls.
They pointed together to a group of bushes in the other back corner of the yard. He didn't need to check on her because she came crawling out from them at her mention. So much for not getting dirty. They'd need to come in even if it wasn't time for dinner; it was starting to get dark, and he didn't want them outside after dark, even in the backyard.
"You three get inside and wash your hands. It's time for dinner," Charles instructed. He was greeted with a pair of yes, Dads from the two older girls and a yes, Daddy from Charlotte as all three went running by him.
He stepped out to the middle of the yard, where he could easily look up and view the door that led into the crawlspace. The lock appeared to be in place, and the door didn't seem broken. Maybe he had imagined things earlier or misestimated how big a thing was running around. Perhaps it was just a squirrel.
Wendy and Charles took their customary places at either end of the dining table. Andrea and Kristin were seated to the left, and Charlotte and Miss Newman were sitting on the right. Cinnamon had taken up residence under Charlotte's chair, probably expecting to get handouts. Just a nice family dinner with a guest over.
The girls all dug into their food like it was something from a high-class restaurant instead of mac and cheese for the third time this week. It was either mac and cheese or the choice of either bratwurst or fish sticks with a rotating selection of canned vegetables based on what was on sale. She'd feel bad serving this to her guest, except everyone in the neighborhood are similar meals most nights. Sometimes, if it was tight enough, she would send the kids out to gather the wild lettuce that grew in the yard. It required a lot of washing, but it counted as fresh vegetables, and it didn't cost money.
Miss Newman lowered her head and cupped her hands, and Wendy paused in loading up a bite of food from her bowl. The woman had said she had been involved with the church, so it shouldn't have been surprising. Would the older woman think badly of them for not saying grace? No, Wendy never made any sign she was religious, and they weren't. This was their house, and they didn't need to put on false airs for the sake of a religious guest.
Wendy shook her head in disgust at herself. Her mother had always been worried about what people thought and how they presented themselves, and Wendy had hated it. Yet here she was, going through those same motions. Was it the fate of all daughters to become their mothers? She certainly hoped not. Her girls were going to be successful—doctors or lawyers or, in Andrea's case, police officers. Whatever they ended up being, it wouldn't be just housewives or retail clerks. They were too bright for that. Plus, they deserved a better life than what she was able to provide.
She took a sip of her soda and set it down. "So, Miss Newman. You said you're a sociologist?"
Miss Newman took a bite of her food, chewed a second or two, and swallowed before wiping her lips with a paper towel. "Not in any official title. People use lots of different titles for me, some of them honorific, some of them...not...so honorable. My last two official job titles were mayor and preacher."
Charles looked up at her with a surprised look. "Female mayors are rare, and what denomination of church has female preachers?"
Miss Newman did a forced laugh. "I doubt you'll find anyone of my denomination anywhere in Colorado. The town I was mayor of wouldn't even appear on most maps you find. As for my sociology, the concepts I study are best left unsaid. I wouldn't want to start some dinner table fights. Never talk about politics or religion at the dinner table, and the same goes for sociology."
"Well, leaving your politics, religion, and sociology at the door, you still seem to have had a successful life," Wendy observed.
"A successful life, but not because of my careers," Miss Newman replied. "It might sound old-fashioned, but I measure my success by the wellness of my family, and in that, I have been blessed and plan to keep it that way." She took a sip of her soda and gave the drink a dirty look as she took it from her lips. "Sorry, I normally drink tea or water. I'm not used to carbonated beverages."
"I can get you a glass of water if you prefer. We also have Kool-Aid and Tang, " Wendy offered, half-standing up.
Charlotte held up her cup with a grin. "It's fruit punch!"
Miss Newman looked down at Charlotte with an unreadable expression. "I wouldn't want to impose."
Wendy finished getting up. "It's no trouble. I'll get you some water—"
"I think I'll try the Kool-Aid," Miss Newman interrupted. "Fruit punch."
Wendy grabbed a glass and went to the fridge, and poured a glass of the sugary kids' drink. She brought it back to the table and handed it to her guest. Who nodded her thanks in return. She then retook her seat.
Charlotte, having been listened to about the Kool-Aid, became the first of the kids to lose her shyness around a stranger. "Do you like Transformers, Miss Old Lady?"
Wendy about choked on her food at the way her daughter addressed their guest. "I'm very sorry, Miss Newman. Charlotte can be very—"
Miss Newman held up a hand and waved off the apology. "No need to apologize. Children say what they see. I'm certainly not a young woman. My eldest great-grandson is about her age, and he is just as straightforward in saying things as they come to mind." She turned and looked at Charlotte. "And I'll have you know; I consider myself the world's foremost authority on Transformers, among other things, but being an expert in Transformers is certainly something I'm proud of."
"Who's your favorite?" Charlotte asked.
Miss Newman tilted her head to the side. "It is hard to pick just one. It used to be Optimus Prime, but nowadays, I think I like Grimlock best."
Charlotte looked confused. "The T-Rexasaur? Why him?"
"The term is tyrannosaurus rex," Miss Newman corrected. "And the reason is, Optimus Prime is always right, always perfect, and that's great, but Grimlock isn't perfect. Grimlock makes mistakes. Grimlock gets angry. Grimlock does just as much wrong as he does right, but he always tries to do right. I can sympathize with him more. Plus, a dinosaur seems so much cooler to me than a big truck."
Charlotte considered this quietly then gave her honest opinion. "Optimus Prime is my favorite." Short and to the point.
Miss Newman stared for a moment, then smiled. "And who can argue with that?"
Wendy finished a bite of her food and continued. "You seem very well versed about children's cartoons."
Miss Newman finished off her drink and nodded. "Cartoons are important. Society has always related its morals and values through the stories we tell each other and especially the ones we tell our children. There is never just a story, be it nursery rhyme, fairy tale, book, or cartoon. If you want to understand who we are as a people, then watch your kids' cartoons." She gathered up a large forkful of mac and cheese before continuing. "But sociology really shouldn't be discussed at the dinner table."
"I told you Scooby-Doo was a great philosopher," Charles said with a chuckle.
Miss Newman smiled. "Scooby-Doo teaches us to be skeptical, and that hiding behind the mask, monsters are regular people motivated by our worst natures. Scooby-Doo teaches us invaluable lessons that even adults should pay attention to."
"And what do Tom and Jerry teach us, Miss Newman?" Wendy asked as she finished off her food.
Miss Newman got a distasteful look on her face. "Sadly, the gospel according to Tom and Jerry is often all too true. It is one that I have felt in my own life, but not one I think I can say in front of children. I can't say it without saying a profanity, and it needs a profanity to give it justice."
"We want to hear!" Andrea exclaimed. Wendy rolled her eyes. Of course, Andrea did, now that it was mentioned that cussing was needed.
Miss Newman considered Andrea. "I suppose the cleanest way of saying it is that they teach that violence and hatred are often almost impossible to stop. Both Tom and Jerry, at different points, attempt to stop it all, yet the other always instigate it again. There may have been some slight that started it all to begin with. Maybe it was petty, maybe it was legitimate, but the effect keeps going and always escalates far beyond what was originally called for. It makes them crazy, self-destructive, and blind to all the damage they are doing themselves and everything around them. Until they both let that hatred go together, it will never stop, and neither ever lets it go at the same time as the other. Eventually, it gets to a point where someone has to ask how the...how in the world did things ever get this absurdly out of control? It needs profanity to give it justice because it is so profane."
Charles poked at his food. "Now you've made Tom and Jerry depressing."
"And so we don't talk about sociology at the dinner table," Miss Newman said, sounding depressed herself.
Charles pushed his empty bowl away. "That's all the talk of cartoons we should have for the night." The three girls let off a collective aww at this. He looked back at Miss Newman. "Miss Newman, is it too hot in here for you? I noticed that your sweater is on backward, and it wasn't when you came in. We can turn the AC on."
Miss Newman pressed a hand to her sweater. While her hand was pressed there, Wendy noticed the impression of something beneath it. A necklace, perhaps? The woman didn't keep her hand there long, and the impression of the object became obscured again.
"Somewhat," Miss Newman answered. She then stood up. "It has been wonderful getting to talk to you all, but I think I should be going now that it is fully dark. Work never ceases."
Wendy stood up and extended a hand to her neighbor. "We were glad you came. I hope we can have you over again. Remember, the Westoffs will want to invite you to a barbeque soon. You can bet on it. Oh! Will you be handing out candy to trick-or-treaters tomorrow?"
Miss Newman blinked. "I wasn't even aware tomorrow was Halloween. I guess I lost track of time. I tell you, lately, I only vaguely know what year it is. I'll have to get something for the kids."
"If you come by K-Mart, I can get you something with my employee discount," Wendy offered. "Just don't expect me to do it in the future. I'll get in trouble if it becomes a habit. Consider it helping with moving in. We can't do much, but I can do that."
"Thank you for your generosity," Miss Newman said with a fresh smile. "I'll see you about, probably tomorrow. Until then, bless you and have a good night." She briefly paused with a frown. "And if you have any trouble, please, come get me right away, no matter how ridiculous or unbelievable the situation may seem."
They led her out and locked the door behind her. After that, they instructed Andrea and Kristin to take turns taking a shower before bed. Charlotte would have hers in the morning. When they finally had the living room to themselves, Wendy sat down and lit a cigarette.
"Well, she's an odd one," Wendy said as she let off a drag. "How can anyone make cartoons so morbid?"
"She says she's a sociologist," Charles replied. "Old people get a pass for being odd, and she seems like she's good-natured enough."
Wendy took another drag. "Did you notice she never asked any questions about us?"
Charles shook his head. "I didn't, but we didn't volunteer anything either, and we did do a lot of questioning. I find it a little odd she took her clothes off in our bathroom. I noticed her zipper of her blue jeans was down just now, and her shoes were untied. That lady completely stripped and redressed in a hurry while she was in our bathroom. I know she wasn't like that when she walked in."
"Do you think she doesn't have her water running yet and was too proud to ask to use our shower?" Wendy asked.
Charles shrugged. "Don't know. Her hair was dry, but she could have washed everything else. The sink was running from the moment she went in."
"And it was still running until right before she left the bathroom," Wendy said as she finished her cigarette and stamped it out. "Maybe we can ask her about it discreetly."
"It's the neighborly thing to do," Charles replied. He then gave his wife a serious look. "You don't think she's a squatter, do you? She did just kinda appear out of nowhere, and if she has no water…."
"We have no real reason to think so, and she has power over there," Wendy pointed out.
"Guess you're right.," Charles conceded.
After they went to bed that night, two gunshots rang out, and this time, Andrea and Kristin were the ones convinced that there was something moving around outside their window.
Andrea was not typically a disobedient kid, but she was not used to having what she said dismissed by her parents. So as soon as she was sure they'd both gone back to their room, she got out of bed, even though the order from her parents had been to go to sleep.
She wasn't the only one who had decided to get up as soon as their parents were in their room; Kristin got up at the same time. Their beds were across the room from each other, and neither felt brave enough to try to speak with enough volume to be heard across the room, lest their parents overhear them. So the two girls decided with a mere look at one another to come together in the middle.
"What do we do? Mom and Dad don't believe us," Kristin fretted, fearfully glancing over her shoulder at her window.
Andrea couldn't help looking out the window as well, with another look given to the window on her side of the room just to be safe. "I don't know. Didn't Charlotte see one yesterday?"
Kristin hung her head. "Yeah, and we made fun of her. I feel bad."
"Me too," Andrea said as she looked at the door that joined their room with their baby sister's. "I don't think those things were ponies. Ponies don't have wings, and that one with the feathers was purple. Ponies aren't purple."
"Why did one have feathers and the other one didn't?" Kristin asked as if Andrea would was more informed about the monsters than she was.
Andrea just shook her head. "Don't know, but those weren't birds." She made a decision. "We need to find out if they're still out there."
"Mom and Dad just looked. The monsters were gone," Kristin said, inching a little further away from the wall with the windows.
"Maybe grown-ups can't see them. We should check," Andrea asserted, but she didn't move to go do so.
"You first," Kristin insisted, moving even farther away from the windows.
Andrea forced herself to take a few steps toward her sister's window. Andrea was always the bravest of the three sisters. Kristin and Charlotte were practically chickens, but not Andrea. She wanted to be a police officer when she grew up, and police officers had to be brave. Right now, she wasn't feeling courageous, but it would be impossible to convince Kristin to go first.
She looked out the window, first towards the roof of their neighbor's house, where they had seen the monsters. The Myers' house was smaller and had a bigger backyard. The Myers' backyard was what each of their bedroom windows overlooked, but they could easily see the Myers' roof off to the side from their windows. She scrutinized the Myers' house and saw nothing. To be safe, she checked the neighbor's backyard too and looked past it to the Westoffs' yard—although that one was harder to see the details of in the dark.
After standing there for an eerily quiet minute, she hurried back to her sister. "There's nothing out that way. We need to check the other sides of the house."
"We can't check the backyard; Mom and Dad will hear that door for sure! It's too squeaky!" Kristin whispered frantically.
Her sister wasn't wrong, and going outside when those things could be out there still sounded like a very bad idea. "We can still check the other windows," Andrea said with more confidence than she felt.
"You check them," Kristin said, crossing her arms and making it clear she wasn't leaving the safety of the bedroom.
Andrea scowled at her sister. "What are you going to do then?"
Kristin blinked in surprise that she was expected to do something. "I'll… I'll talk to Charlotte."
"Why?" Andrea demanded in a harsh whisper. "What's Charlotte going to do? She's six and a bigger chicken than you!"
"But she saw one yesterday, and the monsters were looking at her window, not ours. That has to be important," Kristin defensively asserted. Her eyes narrowed. "And I'm not a chicken. You're a chicken! Maybe they want to hurt her. We can't let them get our little sister."
"Maybe they think she is the easiest prey since she is so little," Andrea pondered.
"Which is why she should be in here with us, where she's safer," Kristin said, pointing at Charlotte's door. Andrea wasn't sure if that made Charlotte safer or just put all three of them in more danger, but if their parents weren't going to believe them…
"Fine," Andrea conceded. "You get her, and I'll check the windows. Be quiet! We don't want Mom and Dad getting mad at us."
Andrea carefully tiptoed out of their room into the kitchen. The only light in the room was the light over the stove, which their mom usually left on, knowing that she and Kristin would sometimes get up to get something to drink and not wanting them to have to stumble to the fridge or the opposite side of the room where the light switch was.
She went over to one of the kitchen windows and peeked out the blinds. Beyond was the street they walked down to go to school, and on the other side was the house where Misses Brown and her great-grandson lived. She'd been over to Misses Brown's house just once, and it was with a class field trip. Misses Brown was old, like really-really old, a hundred and ten, and her parents had been slaves during the Civil War. Her great-grandson was even older than their parents. Her teacher took their class to sit in Misses Brown's yard and listen to her tell stories that her parents had told her. It felt weird, going on a field trip to the house across the street, but a field trip was a field trip, and she wasn't going to complain.
A stray thought made her wonder how old Miss Newman was since she had great-grandkids. She didn't look as old as Misses Brown. Then again, she was sure Misses Brown had great-great-grandkids. That would explain why Misses Brown looked so much older.
The street was quiet, as was Misses Brown's house. The only light was from the street light in front of the house and the one on the next street over. She tried to see if anything was in the alley behind Misses Brown's house, but the street lights were too far away from it for her to make out anything past the entrance into the alley. It didn't seem like there were any signs of the monsters.
Moving on, she crept through the pantry, which was always creepy at night since it had no windows, and on into the living room. She skipped the window that looked out at the station wagon because it would mostly give her the same view she just had from the kitchen, and it was also too close to Pretty's cage, and she didn't want the bird to wake up and start singing. That would get her caught for sure. She instead went to the big window that looked out on the other street in front of the house. She used her fingers to open up the blinds just a little.
Standing on the porch of the house across the street was Miss Newman. She was holding a shotgun in one hand and staring up at the sky in the distance. The direction the old woman was staring made it impossible for Andrea to tell what Miss Newman was looking at, but the old woman didn't seem happy. Why was Miss Newman even out at this hour? Didn't old people need lots of sleep, like babies? Why did she have a shotgun? Had she seen the monsters?
The woman moved and raised her free hand to the sky with her middle finger extended. What the heck? Did the old lady just flip the sky off? No… there was something up there. The monsters had wings. Miss Newman was flipping off the monsters. Miss Newman knew about the minsters.
This new information was both exhilarating and terrifying. On the one hand, there was an adult out there who would believe them. On the other hand, if Miss Newman was flipping off the monsters, then that meant the monsters were still close enough for Miss Newman could see them. They hadn't left yet.
Time seemed frozen as Andrea sat there, watching the woman across the street and waiting to see what happened. Miss Newman lowered her one-finger salute and kept staring off in the distance, and it seemed to last forever. Eventually, the old woman seemed to relax and take a deep breath. Then she turned and looked directly at their house.
Andrea immediately let go of the blinds and ducked down. Had Miss Newman seen her? Was she going to tell their parents that she was up? Andrea didn't want to find out. She decided that it was time to go back to her room and report what she had seen to her sisters.
She made her way back as quickly as she dared while avoiding making noise. When she entered her room, she found Kristin in front of their TV, playing Burgertime on their Intellivision with the sound all the way down. Charlotte was sitting close by, watching the game.
Andrea hurried over to Kristin. "There are monsters outside, and you're playing video games!?"
Kristin glared at her as Peter Pepper got eaten by an egg on the screen. "I'm trying to pretend that everything is okay. Charly was scared." Kristin turned her attention back to the game as her next life started. "Do you think Mom and Dad will get us a Nintendo for Christmas? James got one for his birthday last week. It's super-cool, way better than this."
Andrea screwed up her face in outrage. "No, it costs too much money, and we shouldn't be thinking about that right now. Miss Newman saw the monsters too."
Kristin forgot her game, and a sausage promptly ate her chef. "How do you know?"
"I saw her flicking them off," Andrea whispered.
Kristin's mouth dropped. "What?! She can't flick off a monster!"
"I saw her!" Andrea defensively insisted.
"They'd attack her!" Kristin countered.
"She had a gun," Andrea countered back.
Kristin sat and considered that last bit. Andrea did as well. If the monsters were afraid of a gun, that meant they could be hurt. The fact they could be hurt was somehow a small reassurance.
"So… what do we do?" Kristin asked after a minute of silence.
Andrea thought about it. Their parents didn't believe them, but what if another adult said there were monsters?
"We go to Miss Newman and get her to tell our parents about the monsters," Andrea decided. "We can ask her when we go out trick or treating."
Kristin didn't seem so sure. "What if she's friends with the monsters and they just had a fight? She showed up at the same time they did."
That was something Andrea hadn't considered. She also didn't have a good answer.
"We just have to risk it," Andrea replied. "She didn't hurt us when she was here. Even if she and the monsters are friends, we can find out more about them by asking her."
"I hope you don't get us into trouble," Kristin muttered. Andrea knew the trouble her sister was talking about wasn't the kind with her parents.
"Thank you for understanding, Mister Williamson. I'll work a double shift tomorrow," Wendy said into the phone. "I'll see you then."
She hung the phone up and sighed before turning to look at her three daughters sitting on the couch.
"You three are going to go to your rooms and take a nap," she instructed.
"Can we go visit Miss Newman?" Andrea pleaded.
Wendy blinked. "No, school is in session right now. You aren't going out after staying home sick. You're lucky I'm not stopping you from trick-or-treating after pretending you're sick."
"But we are sick!" Kristin objected, then coughed three times. The cough was even less believable than their claims about monsters.
"If you're sick, I can't let you go trick-or-treating tonight," Wendy reminded them. "Now, are you sick, or did you three stay up all night and get no sleep?"
Her daughters all looked at one another and hung their heads.
"We stayed up," Charlotte confessed, not willing to give up the upcoming free candy. Andrea gave the youngest sister a scathing look for doing so.
Wendy shook her head in disappointment. "On the plus side, you three managed to get along for the evening and united together about something; that is the only reason I'm not going to punish you. You realize I'm missing a shift at work because of this and will be gone all day tomorrow because of it, right? Not to mention you shouldn't be missing school. Kristin, you had a perfect attendance record until this."
Andrea was quiet. She was almost certainly the ringleader of whatever they were doing last night. It was odd because she was usually the best behaved, but she had been the most insistent on staying home today and the one giving the other two dirty looks to keep them in line. What had they been up to? A better question might be, what were they planning to be up to?
Whatever they were planning, they were going to be doing something more important first. "I want you all to go to your rooms and take a nap," Wendy instructed. "It is only going to be for about two hours because I don't want you to be unable to sleep tonight because you slept all day today. Understand?"
"Yes, Mom," the three said together. Technically, Charlotte said Mommy. It seemed like yesterday Andrea and Kristin were saying that too, but for some reason, that always fell out of favor with kids as they started to progress through school. Charlotte was holding onto the term longer than her sisters did. They'd both stopped calling her Mommy halfway through kindergarten. Charlotte was in first grade now.
She waved a hand to dismiss them. "To bed. You need your rest. If you don't sleep, you'll be too tired to go out tonight. Hurry up, go."
The three scrambled in the direction of Charlotte's room, Andrea and Kristin using it as a cut-through to get to their room. Hopefully, they would actually go to sleep this time. They had to be tired. Growing kids needed their rest.
Wendy sat down and lit a cigarette. She tried not to smoke when her kids were in the room, although she wasn't always perfect about that. She didn't want them seeing her and following her example when they got older. It was a bit hypocritical, refusing to stop smoking but not wanting her daughters to ever pick up the habit. If they did pick it up when they got older, there would be only herself to be angry at, not them. It was stupid, but it was her way of coping with stress, and right now, she was stressed and angry, and she didn't want to show that anger towards her daughters.
She couldn't afford to miss any work. Their budget was too tight. She was lucky her supervisor was going to let her make up the shift tomorrow, even if it was going to make the day long and painful for her. Fourteen hours of work tomorrow, all because her daughters felt like staying up. It would be one thing if they were sick, but this was due to disobedience. She wanted to scream at them, but they were just kids and didn't know any better. It wasn't like they pulled this all the time, and it was good to see them doing something together when they were usually at each others' throats. All three of her daughters were very independent, which unfortunately led to a lot of conflict between them.
The doorbell rang, and she got up to check it. A quick look through the peephole revealed it was Miss Newman. Wendy opened the door and smiled at her neighbor.
"Miss Newman, hi. What brings you over here again so soon?" Wendy asked.
The older woman looked tired. "I noticed your kids didn't leave for school, and I didn't see you at the bus stop when I took my stroll. I wanted to make sure you were all well."
"We're fine," Wendy assured her. "Did you want to come in and talk?"
Miss Newman yawned and nodded. "Just a few minutes. I had a long night and need to get to sleep soon. I'm going to be giving myself twenty-four hours of rest after I return home, a day to isolate myself. It's a habit of mine."
Wendy let her in and then realized she was still holding a lit cigarette. She hurried over to the ashtray and put it out. "Sorry, a filthy habit I can't seem to stop."
Miss Newman waved it off as she used her other hand to cover a yawn. "It's no problem. I smoked for a few years as a teen." She turned and looked Wendy in the eyes. "However, I would recommend quitting. My mother… she suffered from lung cancer."
"I'm very sorry to hear—" Wendy began but realized something. "Didn't you say your mother was alive and well? Something about her going out gardening by herself?"
"She was given a miracle, but no one should count on miracles to save them. Don't let any preacher convince you that you just need enough faith and God will solve your problems," Miss Newman said without hesitation or concern. Wendy caught no sense she was lying.
"Odd advice from a former preacher," Wendy commented.
Miss Newman seemed to be examining the ceiling and trying to hide the fact she was doing it. "I have come to believe that God takes a very hands-off approach to the world. This doesn't mean I have any less faith, only that my faith has evolved over time. We're not on this Earth to receive rewards or punishments here; those rewards and punishments are reserved for what happens after our time is up. We're here to live our lives, and so by our actions, intentions, and faith be judged. Don't count on God to give you any handouts; even the most Christlike may never receive a single one for their prayers—aside from their place reserved in Heaven. This life is short and not worth his time to interfere or intervene."
"You said your mom got a miracle," Wendy reminded the woman.
Miss Newman shook her head, still examining the ceiling. "That miracle was extraordinary blind luck, not an act of God. Sometimes we get lucky, never count on it."
Wendy crossed her arms. "Miss Newman, is something wrong with my ceiling? You seem very interested in it."
Miss Newman paused and stopped looking at the ceiling at last. "Oh, my ceiling has some oddities, and I was checking to see if yours had similar ones. Tell me, why is everyone at home if everyone is fine? Did something happen?"
Wendy sighed and flopped on the couch. "The girls spent the entire night up. Charlotte thought she saw a vampire pony outside her window. I know it sounds silly, and I half-expect it was something she made up to cover for staying up watching TV. It was enough to give Kristin a nightmare last night, and Andrea saw a hawk or something in Kristin's panic and turned it into a monster in her head. It's all ridiculous, but they ended up staying up all night. I couldn't send them off to school without any sleep."
"All three, you say?" Miss Newman asked with a raised eyebrow. The woman took a step towards Wendy. "A word of advice from the matriarch of a large family; always take what your children tell you seriously, no matter what they are saying. You don't need to believe it, but you do need to show you're listening and have their backs. Listen to their stories, and you might find some truths that you were not aware of."
"But I know these have to be fantasies or lies," Wendy countered. "There's no such thing as flying ponies."
Miss Newman shrugged. "Some of the most important lessons we teach children are fantasies and lies. An example is kindness, an element I embrace at the sacrifice of my honesty. Kindness is only an idea; it has no physical form or energy in the universe. You could say it is as much fantasy and lie as any cartoon your children watch, but it is an important one, one we depend on believing. We would be less for not believing in it. Sometimes the biggest lies are the greatest truths."
This lady practically lived sociology and philosophy. Wendy supposed that it could be a side-effect of getting older and spreading wisdom to the younger generation. Considering their age difference, Miss Newman might view her as a child. Wendy was unsure how to feel about that.
"Andrea had asked to see if the girls could visit your house," Wendy said, deciding to change the subject from philosophy. "We still need to give you a proper housewarming. Would visiting your house be possible soon? I only ask to try to indulge my daughter."
"It won't be possible, I'm afraid," Miss Newman said quickly as she looked at the time on the VCR, frazzled, frightened even. She then hurried towards the door. "I need to get going. I must start my day of rest."
Wendy was taken aback by the sudden change in mood. "Okay. Have a nice—" The door slammed. —day."
She went over to the front window and peeked out. Miss Newman was running for her house like her life depended on it. The older woman reached her home and hastily entered, again slamming the door shut behind her.
Not for the first time, Wendy reflected on how odd that woman behaved. Something didn't feel right about her.
On a whim, Wendy decided that she needed to verify the woman wasn't a squatter. This was a sometimes dangerous neighborhood, and squatters setting up drug dens in houses was not unheard of. That woman's odd behavior was hard to explain, and it could be linked to drugs. Today was the only day of the year that police made patrols through the neighborhood—for the safety of the kids walking the streets after dark—and today was the day Miss Newman had an urgent need to isolate herself. They had let that woman into their house, and Andrea wanted to visit her for who knew what reason. They needed to know she was safe.
Wendy grabbed the Yellow Pages and started flipping through, trying to find the listing for the real estate company that had been selling Miss Newman's house. That house had sat empty for close to five months, and she'd seen the for sale sign long enough to know what company had control of the property. She found the number and dialed it.
It took only two rings to pick up. "Century Twenty-One, how may I help you?"
Wendy smiled since it impacted the sound of the voice when talking. "Hi, I was trying to inquire about one of your properties. One-eleven Breckinridge Road, in Aurora, about a mile outside Denver city limit. I saw the for sale sign a few days ago and wanted to see how much it was."
"We would be happy to discuss that with you," the person on the other end of the line replied. "Give me a moment to find the property and which of our agents is handling it. You said it is in Aurora, just outside of Denver? Closest major road?"
"Montview."
"Montview, got it. That would be Jim's territory. Repeat that address."
"One-eleven Breckinridge Road."
"Thank you, give me a minute."
Wendy sat waiting as the person on the other line hummed to themselves while looking for the property listing.
"Found it! I'm very sorry. It looks like that property is no longer available. It went off the market a few days ago. Would you like me to set you up an appointment with Jim so he can discuss similar properties in that area?"
"No, I was specifically interested in that one. Thanks for checking for me. Have a nice day," Wendy answered and didn't wait for a reply before hanging up the phone.
Well, that was a mild relief. Miss Newman wasn't a squatter. She was just odd. Perhaps she had moved in before her stuff had even arrived to avoid any further hotel costs. That wasn't unheard of. Her own family had camped out in sleeping bags inside a new home once before during a move, waiting for movers to arrive. If that was the case, it would make sense why she hadn't seen a moving truck yet, and why Miss Newman was not allowing anyone at her house.
She felt a little bad for having checked on the older woman like that, but at least she didn't need to keep wondering. It was time to do a few chores around the house before needing to wake her kids from their naps. Hopefully, they wouldn't wake up early with more nightmares about monster ponies.
Halloween night was always a long night that involved a lot of exercise. Wendy was glad it was almost over; her feet were killing her.
The neighborhood had a general way of conducting things on Halloween night. All the kids on their street would travel together more or less as a group. They might divide the group slightly, so the kids were going to two different houses at once instead of overwhelming any single one. Each household would try to send at least one parent or older sibling to help chaperone with the rest of the adults, but there was always at least one household or more that had to leave their kids in the care of the group. Work hours didn't always agree with the holidays, after all.
They always started down by the school and worked their way back to their street, walking up and down each street along the way. The hope was that all the walking would be enough to tire the kids out, and they wouldn't stay up all night on a sugar rush from their candy. That was the theory, but Wendy had found that the only ones that tended to be worn out at the end were the adults, and the kids still ended up with enough energy left over to last them for days.
This time around, her kids were starting to drag as they finally reached their street and the last leg of the night. Staying up all night and then only getting two hours of sleep seemed to have done the trick. Less than twenty houses to go, and they'd be done for the night. It was a good thing, too, as it seemed that the cops that had been stationed in the area had all suddenly pulled out, returning them to the usual lack of police security. Something big must have been going down elsewhere to pull them all out like that so suddenly. She would have to check the news tonight to find out what, if she could keep her eyes open long enough.
"MOMMY!!!"
Wendy's heart skipped as she heard Charlotte screaming and immediately turned to run to her. However, she had barely turned when Charlotte slammed into her legs and buried her face into Wendy's legs, crying.
Wendy ran a hand across her daughter's head. "What's wrong, baby?"
Charlotte kept crying as her sisters came walking calmly back.
"Mister Lewis was dressed up as Freddy Kruger and scared her," Andrea explained, sounding annoyed. The annoyance seemed to be directed more at her baby sister than at the man who had terrified her.
"She's such a little chicken," Kristin said, sounding just as annoyed. "It was obvious it was just Mister Lewis. He wasn't even wearing makeup."
"Be nicer to your sister," Wendy scolded. "You two were scared just as easily when you were her age. Need I remind you why you three ended up staying home from school today in front of all your friends?"
"That's different!" Kristin protested, and Andrea immediately elbowed her in the stomach to silence her, giving a pointed look at the nearby kids. Kristin looked and realized she was about to provide fuel to potential teasing and buttoned her lip.
The two of them hurried off to the next house, but Charlotte stayed clutched to Wendy's side. Wendy put her hand on her daughter's shoulder and let her stay. The poor dear had to be overtired and overstimulated. It was doubtful she would go to any other houses for candy. The size of her trick-or-treat bag suggested that it wouldn't be a significant loss. Wendy was content to let Charlotte stay by her side.
Joan Westoff came up beside them as they walked. "Can you believe Greg Lewis; dressing up as one of those R-rated monsters? I can't believe they sell costumes for those things; think of the children! Movie monsters these days are so violent and bloody! I would never let my kids watch something like that. It's not like the good old days when we were kids. When I was a kid, we were fine with a white sheet with eye holes cut out."
Wendy gave Joan a cross look. "I think walking around with white sheets over their heads might get our kids attacked by the Blood and Crips, and I don't think Misses Brown would be too happy either."
Joan looked confused. "What? It's just a ghost costume."
Some people were painfully oblivious to some things, and Wendy wasn't sure she had it in her to explain exactly what was wrong with that concept to her friend.
"White sheets with eye holes worn over the head," Wendy said slowly, hoping that she didn't have to spell this out. "Think of what that also resembles, especially to someone of color."
"I don't know what you're talking—" Joan began before clamping her mouth shut. The recognition entered her eyes, and her cheeks reddened. "Oh…"
Wendy nodded. She was glad she didn't have to explain further. It brought up bad memories of her husband's parents and grandparents, family that she and Charles never wanted her girls exposed to. It was sad that the girls would grow up lacking the extended family that most of the other kids they knew had, but there was too much hurt and hate. She and Charles had agreed that their daughters would never be exposed to the hateful rhetoric or bloody legacy of the rest of the family. The only family they had any regular contact with were Wendy's mother and little sister. Wendy's mother had cut herself off from the rest for similar reasons, and Wendy's little sister wasn't any older than Andrea.
Joan seemed inclined to change the subject from the good old days after an awkward pause. "So, tell us about our new neighbor. I saw that she went over to your house. A couple of us have tried to meet her, but she never answers her door when we ring the doorbell or knock. Your family are the only ones who have spoken with her."
Wendy blinked. "Really? Well, she might have been asleep when you visited her. She keeps odd hours, staying up most of the night. Her name is Miss Newman, and she has yet to say what her first name is. I'm not really clear about what she currently does for work, but she said she is a sociologist and was formerly a preacher and a mayor. She's rather odd, to tell the truth."
Joan hummed. "No one ever saw her move in. Miss Myers and I wondered if she could be a squatter, not that we are accusing her of that. There have been strange things going on since she moved in."
Wendy shook her head. "I actually called the company that was selling the house today. She checks out. The property went off the market the same time she moved in. She's odd, but she's legitimate. What strange things have been happening? I haven't gotten to hear any gossip the last few days."
"Miss Myers says that she's been hearing things running around on the roof of her house, far too big to be squirrels. Misses Brown heard the same thing on top of her house," Joan explained. "I haven't heard anything on mine. Have you heard anything?"
"There was something yesterday, but Charles was sure it was in the crawlspace," Wendy answered as they continued to walk to keep up with the kids' advancing down the street. "However, now that you mention it, my kids keep claiming they've seen things on Miss Myers' roof. Charlotte claims it was a vampire pony. Andrea and Kristin were less sure what to say about what they saw, but they claimed it was monsters too. I'm thinking it was a large hawk or eagle or something like that. Charles found blood out front by our tree, and he thinks a hawk got a squirrel."
Joan rolled her eyes. "Your kids aren't the only ones having wild fantasies. Mine gave me this unbelievable story about a dark van in the alley that had a unicorn in the back."
Wendy laughed. "A unicorn? Maybe it is in league with the vampire pony. There must be some TV show that premiered recently that we all missed, and that's where the kids are getting all this."
Her friend frowned. "Maybe that dreadful She-Ra cartoon? It has a unicorn that flies, doesn't it?"
Wendy stiffened. "Why is that cartoon dreadful? My kids enjoy it."
"And see what ideas it is giving them?" Joan replied. She then briefly glanced down disapprovingly at Charlotte, who was dressed as a Transformer robot, but then quickly hid her look. "It is not a proper girls' cartoon. We shouldn't be letting them watch such things. There are proper things for girls and proper things for boys. We need to reinforce that; otherwise, they may end up growing up and becoming like one of those people getting AIDs."
Wendy suppressed the urge to shout at her neighbor. How dare Joan imply such things! Her daughters were free to enjoy what they wanted, and she was not going to deny them just because it didn't fit neatly into a gender role. Was she supposed to tell Andrea that she couldn't be a police officer because that wasn't a woman's job? She wanted her kids to be successful, and they wouldn't be successful working strictly traditional women's roles. It wasn't like they didn't have any interest in conventional girls' things. Both Andrea and Kristin loved their Barbies and eagerly wanted her to teach them about makeup. Kristin loved video games. Charlotte had as many 'girl toys' as she did 'boy toys'. Assigning roles to such things was just plain stupid, and it taught little girls to be complacent and subservient. Both Wendy and Charles had to work to keep their family afloat. How much better would things be if Wendy's now-deceased father had brought her up teaching her how to be successful rather than insisting a woman's place was homemaker? How much better off would her mother and young sister be if her mother had been taught any skills before finding herself on her own?
Still, yelling at Joan would only make Wendy a pariah in the neighborhood. The Westoffs were the ones who planned all the neighborhood events and get-togethers, and having a falling out with them would only hurt her kids.
"I think it is harmless," Wendy said calmly, and she nodded at the Westoff house. "It looks like we've reached your home. I'll try to talk to Miss Newman about getting out to meet you and the rest of the neighbors. I already mentioned you normally do a barbeque for newcomers, and she seemed amicable to it. Quick warning, she says she doesn't eat much meat, something about a medical condition or something. She says it upsets her stomach. She's older than she looks, and you know how medical conditions multiply as we get older."
"Oh, I'm well aware. Don't get me started on my father's endless hospital visits," Joan said with a groan. She then beckoned her kids to her. "Okay, kids, time to say goodbye to your friends and go inside. No eating any candy before I check it! You never know what some crazy satan worshiper might have tried to slip in."
Wendy shook her head. The news always went on about razor blades and poison in candy, but she had never heard of anyone finding any.
She turned her gaze to the roof of the Myers' house, thinking about what the Myers had said about hearing things and her daughters had said about seeing things. She frowned. Had something just been there before she looked? She had thought she had seen movement, but it seemed all clear now. Maybe it was just her imagination acting up on her after hearing so much about things there. Her daughters weren't the only ones up on short sleep either. She had been up at three in the morning dealing with their latest nightmare. She'd need to get to bed early tonight. It was going to be a long day tomorrow.
With the Westoffs gone, it was just her and her kids now. Andrea and Kristin were currently on the porch of the Myers house and getting compliments about their costumes from the older couple. This would be the last one since the only places left were their house and Miss Newman's, and Miss Newman had her lights off, indicating she wasn't handing out candy. The older woman had said she wanted to isolate herself today for a day of rest. It seemed an odd day to do it, and it being a Friday, there didn't seem to be any religious reason behind it. Maybe it was just her only day off from doing whatever it was she did for work.
Andrea and Kristin apparently didn't get the memo and had left the Myers in the direction of Miss Newman's house.
"Stop! Her lights are off. You have seen plenty of houses with their lights off tonight, and you know what that means. She has no candy," Wendy called out to her two older daughters.
The two had already crossed the street and turned to stare at her from the sidewalk. "Mom, we wanted to see Miss Newman!" Andrea protested.
"You can see her some other time. She isn't—"
"MOM!" Andrea and Kristin suddenly screamed together, pointing behind her in terror.
Wendy turned to look at what had given them such a fright, but something slammed into her and Charlotte, hard, hard enough to send them both flying into the street. It was a shock, but Wendy's instincts were on point, and she immediately pulled Charlotte close to cushion her.
They landed painfully in the middle of the road. Charlotte was crying, and Wendy could already tell that her own shoulder had some sort of injury from hitting the concrete, but her main concern was about her daughter.
"Baby, are y-you okay?" she fearfully asked through the pain.
Charlotte wouldn't have had a chance to answer, even if she wasn't bawling. The screeching of tires caught both their attention as a vehicle came hurtling down the street at breakneck speed, headlights locked on them. There was no way they would be able to get out of the way in time; Wendy could barely move at the second.
She closed her eyes and gripped Charlotte tighter, bracing for the impact, and then suddenly she found herself flying through the air again, only it wasn't because the vehicle had hit her. She struck the sidewalk in front of her house and heard the car whoosh by with someone inside it shouting a curse in rage. Had they been trying to hit her?!
Hitting the concrete sidewalk like that hadn't been any better than hitting the concrete of the road, and Wendy was in extreme pain. Charlotte was still crying in Wendy's arms, but the fact that she was crying at least meant she was alive. Although Wendy was unsure if she could move her arms from her daughter in the condition her shoulder was in.
Charles was already pulling her up into his lap. "Wendy! Wendy! Are you okay? Is Charlotte okay?! Please be okay!"
"The monster tried to kill Mom!" Kristin cried.
"I-I'm hurt, but okay. Sh-shoulder hurts bad," Wendy managed to answer through the pain. "Ch-Check Charlotte."
Charles did as instructed, pulling their daughter from her arms and eliciting a fresh gasp of pain from Wendy. "Sorry! Sorry!" he cried as he heard her whimper. He was near hysterics himself as a crowd gathered around them.
"I'm calling an ambulance!" Miss Myers yelled from somewhere nearby.
Charles nodded and continued to check their daughter over with the child still sobbing uncontrollably. He then sighed in relief. "Charlotte's okay, other than some scratches."
"What...what hit us?" Wendy asked as she tried to force the pain down.
Charles shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "I don't know. I had turned to go turn the porch light off, and the next thing I knew, Andrea and Kristin were screaming. I'm so glad you were able to get yourself out of the road in time. I swear that driver had been aiming for you."
"It was the monster!" Andrea cried. "It came down from Miss Myers roof and hit Mom into the road, then flew off!"
Wendy didn't have the energy or focus to tell her daughter there was no such thing as monster ponies. "I didn't get out of the road. Someone shoved me or something."
Charles shook his head. "Honey, you must be misremembering after the fall. There was no one there. I was already running for you. The closest ones to you two were Andrea and Kristin, and they were frozen in shock."
Wendy shook her head, wincing in pain. "That's impossible. I could barely move."
"It's what happened. There wasn't anybody there, hun," Charles assured her.
Wendy knew that there was no way she jumped out of the road, but didn't argue it further. Spending energy talking hurt at the moment. Charlotte was safe, and an injury to her shoulder was not as bad as things could have been. That was what was important.
Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the door to Miss Newman's house silently close.
"Take it easy, hun. Let me buckle your seatbelt for you," Charles said as his wife carefully sat down in the passenger seat of the station wagon.
Wendy sat in her seat, arm in a cast, and let him buckle her in. As she leaned back, she winced in pain.
"Sorry," Charles apologized.
Wendy shook her head. "Can't be helped. Two weeks of this, what are we going to do about the bills?"
"Don't know, but we'll figure it out," Charles replied as he shut the door. He walked around to the other side of the car and paused when he saw Kristin hadn't gotten inside yet.
"Dad, can I get in the back with Andrea? I want to sleep," Kristin asked with a yawn.
He glanced at the backseat where Charlotte had already made into a bed upon getting in, and he sighed. "Okay, just no fighting between you two."
"Too tired to fight," Kristin replied as she walked around the back. He followed her and opened up the back end and let her crawl in next to her sister, who had crept over the backseat into the rear before Charlotte had gotten in. With her in place, he went and got in the driver's seat.
He started the car and pulled out from the hospital. "I hope they find whoever was driving that van. Everyone who was there agrees that driver was deliberately trying to run you and Charlotte down."
"Not likely," Wendy muttered. "The police don't care about our neighborhood, and no one was able to get the van's license plate number. They've likely already tossed the case in a pile and forgotten about it. In the meantime, we're going to be down one of my paychecks."
He glanced at her briefly, but he had to turn his eyes back to the road. "Wendy, someone tried to kill you and our daughter. You shouldn't be worrying about the paycheck."
Wendy shook her head. "It was just some drunk out for a joy ride. What I wish someone had seen was what knocked us into the street to begin with. Then we could call animal control. In terms of my paycheck, that is a genuine concern. We have Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up. I don't want to be Christmas shopping at Goodwill, the Salvation Army, or another stupid thrift store for beat-up toys and clothes."
"We've found some good stuff there before. We found Kristin that game system she enjoys. We also got that big Rainbow Bright doll for Charlotte, and Andrea barely even noticed those Star Wars toys last year didn't come in their packaging, and if any of the three noticed, it would be her," Charles said defensively. "We'll do the same thing we've always done. Get most of the stuff used and get one or two nice new toys for each of them. Thanksgiving can be a little lighter this year, and your work always gives you a turkey anyway. It will be okay."
Wendy grimaced. "Joan got on me tonight about us letting the girls play with both girls and boys toys."
Charles scowled in turn. Part of the reason they did that was they didn't want to box their girls in, but the other reason was it made toy shopping easier if the only thing you needed to worry about was age-appropriate and in good condition, rather than girl or boy toy. There weren't enough good condition and age-appropriate girl toys to satisfy each of their daughters when shopping in thrift stores; supplementing that with toys designated for boys helped fill in the gaps. It wasn't hurting them. If anything, it was helping. Andrea's desire to be a police officer had come from those kinds of toys. Charlotte loved those Transformer robots, and wouldn't it be great if that helped spark an interest in robotics? Kristin liked the video games they found her, and she was also the only one in the house who knew how to set the clock on the VCR or get the record function to work right. That seemed like she was getting more comfortable with electronics than the rest of the family, and that was a good thing.
"Joan can bite me," Charles muttered.
Wendy raised an eyebrow at him. "Picking up some slang from the younger people around the shop? I miss being young."
"We aren't that old, Wend. Some of us don't think our lives are over at thirty," Charles reminded her. "It would be pretty depressing to be considered old in our thirties, considering we'll probably live to be like seventy or something. Being old is in your head. Look at Miss Newman; she is still watching cartoons at her age."
"Speaking of her, do you think she might have seen something?" Wendy asked. "She had to have been watching everything when I got hurt. I saw her front door had been open at that time."
"Hmm, I hadn't noticed. We can ask her tomorrow," Charles answered.
Charles glanced into the mirror while listening and tried to gauge if their daughters were asleep again. They had fallen asleep in the hospital lobby, and he expected they were already back to sleep. It was unfortunate that he'd need to wake Andrea and Kristin up again when they got back home to get them to bed, but he could probably carry Charlotte to bed. The doctor had looked at her scrapes and bruises and put some bandages on her, saying she needed to keep them clean. Thinking that she could have been run over by that van made him grip the steering wheel tightly in anger.
"I wanted to talk to you about something yesterday but got distracted," Charles said, satisfied that their daughters were asleep. "A buddy at work gave me a lead on a different position that pays more."
"That could be good news, but why isn't your buddy taking it?" Wendy asked skeptically.
He took a deep breath. "It's in Fort Myers...Florida."
"Charles…"
"Wendy, I know you have your heart set on raising our kids in Denver. I get it; this is where their roots are. All three of them were born in the hospital we were just at. We have to face facts, though. Housing in Denver costs too much. We are practically living in a slum and still barely getting by. I'm told housing in Fort Myers is much cheaper, and I would be making much more at the same time."
Wendy was silent for a moment before answering. "I don't know. It seems like it would put us that much closer to your mother in Arkansas. I don't want to be near her."
"I think we're actually a shorter drive from her now than we would be in Florida, so don't worry about that," he replied. "Believe me; I don't want them near her or that town either."
"We could try finding a place locally with my mother and baby sister," Wendy suggested, not for the first time.
"We've already discussed why that wouldn't work at length," Charles replied. "We have more than just financial reasons to consider this move. It is dangerous here. Look at what happened tonight. Do you want to end up burying one of our girls? We need to think about their safety."
"I still don't know," Wendy said, frustrated. "Maybe we can look at options further out in the suburbs here. Or maybe we can try going to Colorado Springs or Pueblo or some other small town, so we don't have to uproot the girls from Colorado completely. Florida is so far away, and it is in the south."
"The entire south isn't like my old hometown, Wend," Charles said, starting to understand her hesitation. It was unfounded hesitation, but he still had childhood memories of his home that he would never tell his kids, so he could empathize with her feelings. His old home had been stuck in the past and not a very good part of the past, but labeling the whole south that way was unfair.
Wendy grunted. "Maybe a move isn't a bad idea, but I want to explore all options. We can talk about this more tomorrow after we have both gotten some time to sleep."
Charles nodded, and silence set in as the drive home continued. Sleep was something all five of them needed. It had been a long night, and his nerves were still frayed about what had almost happened. Wendy still denied that she had jumped to safety from the road, but the fact remained that no one had been near her. His best guess was that she hadn't even thought about what she was doing and had acted out of instinct. The combination of the two hard landings, stress, and suddenness of everything had left her confused and reconstructed events incorrectly in her head. Their kids were still insistent that their monster had been the one to knock Wendy and Charlotte into the road. There may not have been any monster, but there was some animal on the loose, which was potentially dangerous. Perhaps some rabid hawk? Could birds of prey go rabid? Whatever it was, he would have to take any further cries at night far more seriously.
He slowed the car as they neared their street. Even from a distance, he and Wendy could see the smoke in the air and the flashing lights. As he turned onto the street, he realized there was no getting to their driveway from this direction. Firetrucks, police cars, and an ambulance were all blocking the road, and most of the residents were standing in either the street or on the sidewalk watching. The noise and flashing lights were enough to wake his daughters, and they had all sat up to gawk at what was going in.
Miss Newman's house was fully ablaze.
"The old lady's house is on fire!" Charlotte exclaimed.
"We see that, baby," Wendy said tiredly.
"Why's it on fire?" Charlotte asked with all the expectation that her parents would know everything.
"Just hush for right now," Charles instructed.
They still needed to turn around so they could reach their driveway from the next road over, and that required using someone else's driveway. He pulled over next to Joe and Margie Lewis and rolled down the window.
"What happened?" Charles asked.
Joe shook his head and kept his voice low and somber. "Don't know. Have you seen the new neighbor? Police were asking everyone on the street, but no one has. I think they're worried she was still in there. We were actually hoping that she had taken off with you, and no one noticed. Guess not."
Charles looked out at the blaze and felt sick to his stomach. If she had been in there and hadn't come out, then she was dead. He already could guess that the firefighters would find her charred remains once the fires were extinguished.
Wendy was crying, and the girls were all up and asking questions. They wanted to know if Miss Newman was okay. He didn't have the heart to answer them. Maybe she had been away. There was hope. The long night was going to continue, as none of them would be able to go to sleep anytime soon.
Morning came, and Charles woke. He could hear the sounds of Saturday morning cartoons playing in the living room. Wendy was still asleep beside him, and he didn't have any desire to wake her. She needed her rest to heal. He was still tired as well, but according to the clock, he had already slept in. A few cups of coffee would hopefully give him some energy. He carefully slid out of bed and walked out to the living room, scratching his rump as he went.
"#We are the E-E-E-E-E-E-Ewoks We're the spirits from the forest moon#" the show on the television sang.
Usually, his girls would be singing along with it. For whatever reason, they seemed to think that theme song was hilarious. Andrea even used to bring her Ewok stuffed toy out to bounce around with the music. Today they were silent as church mice as they sat with their bowls of cereal on the floor. He knew they had to be tired as well, but nothing was going to keep kids from sleeping in through Saturday morning cartoons.
He silently walked behind them to look out the front window. There was now a yellow police line encircling the burnt-out remains of the house across the street. He'd been up for hours last night watching them get the blaze under control. One thing he hadn't seen during that time was anyone being loaded onto the ambulance. That had been a relief, but it still left the question of where Miss Newman was. She had no car, and no one had seen her walking around after they'd gone to the hospital. Wendy was pretty convinced that the older woman had been at home when they left, and he had no reason to doubt her. If she did turn up, they probably wouldn't find out since she had little reason to return when nothing was left of her home.
Coffee, that was what needed to be focused on. Charles left the window and headed to the kitchen, stopping briefly by Pretty's birdcage to whistle 'pretty bird'. Pretty happily sang back and helped restore some further sense of normalcy to the morning.
He entered the kitchen and started the coffee maker. He noted that the kids had left a mess on the counter from prepping their cereal. The next thing was to refill Cinnamon's food bowl and water. Oddly, the cat didn't come running at the sound of food hitting the bowl, as was typical, and Charles briefly wondered if the cat had been left out all night long. Considering they had at least one maniac who had tried to run Wendy down, it was a much more dangerous situation for the cat. He wasn't fond of the bulky Siamese cat since the cat barely tolerated the adults, but Charlotte would be devastated if her kitty had become roadkill.
Charles did a quick check under the tables in the kitchen before sticking his head in the laundry room and his two oldest girls' room. There was no sign of the cat in any of those places. The coffee was still brewing, so he decided to do a quick walk around to check the other rooms.
A quick check of the pantry, living room, bathroom, and Charlotte's room turned up nothing. He knew the cat seldom went into his room, even when the door was wide open, but he checked anyway, only to find Wendy still sleeping and still no sign of Cinnamon. Had he left the cat out all night? He hoped not, but with how hectic the night had been, it wasn't beyond the realm of possibility.
Making sure nothing was peeking out of his pajamas, Charles went out the front door and walked down to the edge of the yard to pick up the daily newspaper, all the while scanning nearby yards and parts of the street for the cat. When he reached the curb and picked up the paper, he paused to give the ruin across the street a long look. Could Cinnamon have gone exploring that? He hoped not. What remaining walls existed could fall at any moment, and even though these houses had concrete foundations, there were cellars, and if you got the concrete hot enough, it could crack open and leave pits to fall into. It wasn't something Charles could check, and the police line around the house warned of unsafe conditions—as well as a possible crime scene that shouldn't be disturbed if it turned out to be arson.
He walked back to the house and saw the girls were on a commercial break. "Hey, have any of you seen Cinnamon this morning?"
"Naw," Andrea said around a mouth of cereal. Kristin shook her head, not seeming concerned. Cinnamon wasn't exactly friendly with either of them, so it wasn't surprising.
"Cinnamon! Here kitty kitty!" Charlotte exclaimed as she got up and started searching all the rooms for her cat, even though Charles had just checked them. He didn't expect that she had been paying attention when he had, being engrossed with cartoons.
He sighed. "I'm sure he'll turn up. Can you two go tidy up your mess in the kitchen? If you hurry, you can be back before the commercial is over."
"Why doesn't Charlotte have to help? It's her mess too!" Kristin whined as she stood up.
"She's looking for the cat. Just hurry and get it done," Charles instructed. The girls hurried off to the kitchen, exaggerating their huffs so he would be sure to hear. He just rolled his eyes.
He followed them into the kitchen and went past them to the backdoor. Maybe the cat was out back. Cinnamon hid in the bushes back there sometimes. Charles absently noted to himself he needed to work on the unfinished rooms again, then reminded himself that they may end up moving and that work would be for nothing. He grimaced and continued to the backyard.
Instantly, he realized the back fence was open. Not hanging gaping open, but the latch was undone, and the gate was slightly ajar. The last time he had gone through it was the day before yesterday, and he was sure it had been closed yesterday. It was a tall wooden fence like most of the back fences in the neighborhood, save the Westoffs. Side fences were short enough to see over, but the back ones were tall to block out the view of the alley.
Immediately, he visually checked for the girls' bikes, which were the most valuable things to steal from the backyard. They were present in the same place they always were supposed to be. He took a few steps out into the yard and looked up at the door to the crawlspace; that was closed and appeared to have its lock still in place. There were still toys scattered around the yard, and the only ones who would have a clue if any of them were missing were the girls. He could recognize their favorite and most played with toys, but he could hardly keep track of all of them. Nothing seemed to be missing, and the backdoor had been secure. Still, someone had opened the gate, and that made him uneasy.
Charles stepped back into the unfinished rooms and found a good stick of wood to use as a club from amongst the firewood they stored there. He could have gone into the house and found his gun, but that seemed like overkill, and he didn't want his daughters seeing him walking through the house with a gun. It was broad daylight; all he needed was a big stick.
Improvised weapon in hand, he went to the gate. He paused again as he neared it. There were some kind of tracks that went through it. He considered himself a competent hunter, but he didn't recognize what these wide roundish tracks were. He stiffened as he realized one important detail, they entered the gate, and there was no exiting set of tracks to go along with them. Whatever had made them was still in the backyard.
Charles looked at the stick in his hand, and he looked back at the tracks. He was no expert tracker, but he knew by the size of the tracks that whatever this was had to be at least the size of a mid-sized dog, if not bigger. They reminded him almost of horse tracks, minus the impressions made by horseshoes. His mind briefly drifted to Charlotte's claims of a vampire pony before dismissing that as purely ridiculous. However, whatever made these tracks was big enough that it could be dangerous to him and his family, and it was also big enough that a stick seemed to be woefully unprepared for confronting it. He needed his gun, even if it meant his daughters seeing him walk through the house with it.
Shutting the gate would be a bad idea. He may need to chase whatever the thing was out of the yard. He turned and headed towards the house to get his gun.
"Hey! Over here! In the bushes!"
He turned and stared at the bushes in bewilderment, recognizing the voice. "Miss Newman?"
"Get me some clothes!"
He dropped the stick and headed towards the bushes. "What are you doing in there?"
"Stop!" Miss Newman ordered. "Don't come any closer yet."
He did as instructed. "Why? Are you hurt? Is there an animal in there with you? I saw—"
"I'm stark naked and need clothes!" Cinnamon came running out of the bushes as Miss Newman shouted.
He gaped, dumbfounded. "Why— why are you naked? Where were you last night when your house was burning?"
"Answers later; clothes now! I've been here all night! Just gather up some of your wife's clothes. They're close enough to my size. I need to get dressed and make some phone calls."
He wanted more explanation, but also didn't want to deal with a naked old lady. He hurried back to the house. This explanation had better be something good.
Wendy had sent her kids to their rooms. Her paranoia was in overdrive. There were levels of odd she could accept in neighbors, but finding one of them naked in their backyard bushes went well beyond what could be shrugged off—especially considering the woman had claimed to be there all night while her house burned without making any attempt to speak to the police and the other emergency services people that had been there. Something was seriously not right, and Wendy wasn't having her children get near the woman until she found out what.
Miss Newman had claimed to be completely naked, and that was mostly true. However, the older woman still had that same necklace hidden away under the sweater she was borrowing and had what looked like a miniature saddlebag that she was hauling around. Miss Newman never let that saddlebag out of her sight, and Wendy wondered if there was some sort of stash of illegal narcotics. It would be an explanation for why she behaved so strangely and hadn't spoken to the police last night. The bag showed burn marks on it, which made her believe it had been in the house when it went up in smoke. The older woman had taken the time to save that, but not to save so much as a pair of pants. It clearly wasn't clothing; otherwise, she wouldn't have been naked.
Now Miss Newman was in their living room, finally speaking to the police over the phone. It became immediately apparent that she was either lying to them or lying to the police.
"I will be happy to help you fill out a report," Miss Newman said over the phone. "I'm going to be contacting my landlord about the fire as soon as I'm off the phone with you. I guess I'm lucky I decided to walk down to the park. I'm sorry I got lost; it's a new neighborhood for me. No, no, I don't need any medical attention. I didn't have any sort of home insurance; you'd have to speak to my landlord about that. I don't have a clue. I'm going to see if he can set me up in a hotel in the meantime. I did pay him for this month's rent already and barely stayed a week! I hadn't even moved my stuff in yet! That was why I was so eager to be out of the house. I didn't even have a TV to watch or a book to read!"
Miss Newman paused as she listened to the police officer over the line. Who was she lying to? The police, them, or both?
"I'm sorry, but all my IDs were in the house, but my landlord has copies of everything. I had to have that all on file for getting the house. Do you want their number? I can also have them call you. As I said, I'm calling them as soon as I get off the phone with you," Miss Newman answered the officer after a long moment. Wendy found it highly convenient that the woman had lost all her identification in the fire. Was her last name even Newman? Was she a Soviet spy, a drug runner for a cartel, or something worse?
"I look forward to your visit, officer. I'm currently at the house across the street from mine—house number one-hundred. And please, let me thank you for your service. Goodbye for now," Miss Newman concluded and hung up the phone.
"Do you expect us not to tell them you weren't blatantly lying to them when they arrive?" Charles asked darkly, arms crossed.
Miss Newman looked at him. "Yes, and we will get to the reason why shortly. I have one more call to make. I told the officer I would be calling my landlord, and I meant that part."
Wendy shook her head. "How about you give us an explanation now before we kick you out of the house now and call the police back."
The older woman gave them a weighted look. "Very well, although I anticipate the answer will only lead to more questions."
"We're listening," Charles growled. Wendy wanted to echo that growl. Whatever was going on, she didn't want a part of it.
Miss Newman nodded and reached for her bag. Both Charles and Wendy tensed, worried she might be pulling out a gun. Instead, she opened the bag to reveal a Bible, what looked like a big chunk of quartz, and some thin rectangular thing. The woman pulled the rectangular object out of the bag and pushed a tiny button on the side. One side of the object lit up brightly. Was that a tiny television? Miss Newman had been caught in two more lies; she had a book to read and a TV to watch—be it an odd one. How did a TV that thin function?
"This is an electronic tablet; essentially a small computer with more processing power than any computer currently on Earth," Miss Newman explained as she flicked her fingers across the screen.
Wendy didn't buy it. "We don't need you making up any Star Trek science fiction shit. We want a real explanation."
"Oh, you better start believing in some science fiction because you're very much dealing with it. Well, science fiction to you, but the mundane for me," Miss Newman hummed.
She finished doing whatever she was doing with the device and turned it so they could see. On it was a picture of Wendy and Charlotte standing out on the sidewalk last night. The angle of the picture showed it had been taken from Miss Newman's house.
"It's a camera too?" Charles asked skeptically.
"Yes, and a few other things," Miss Newman confirmed and offered the device to Charles to hold. "However, I think you should take a closer look at the picture. In it, you'll see exactly what knocked your wife and daughter into the road last night. I don't think that was her original plan, but she saw an opportunity and took it."
Charles took the device in his hands. "An opportunity for what?"
Miss Newman gave Charles a dark look. "What almost happened? An opportunity for that to occur. This will be so much harder to explain if you two are asking questions you should know the answer to. However, I do need to apologize. I didn't think they would try anything with so many people walking about due to the holiday. I was wrong, and it could have gone very badly if I hadn't happened to have been looking out the window at that time. Sometimes we get lucky."
Wendy couldn't turn to see the screen well with her cast on and instead continued to focus on Miss Newman. "How did you looking out your window help?"
"How do you think you got out of the street?" Miss Newman asked with a raised eyebrow. "I got you out of it. I about had a heart attack trying to act fast enough." She looked at Wendy's cast. "I do hope that injury is the result of the initial attack and not my intervention. I didn't have time or the luxury to be gentle. I'm sorry for that."
The doctors had no way of knowing which fall had done it; she had landed on the shoulder both times. Wendy personally believed it was the first landing that had done it, and it was also how she knew she hadn't gotten her and Charlotte out of the road and forgotten about it. Still, everyone had been insistent that no one had been on the road next to them and that no one had seen Miss Newman last night. The door for Miss Newman's house had been open, though. Wendy remembered that clear as crystal.
Wendy looked at her husband, who was staring at the picture on the screen in quiet disbelief. "What's wrong? What's in the picture?"
He held it out to where she could see and pointed to a spot on the Myers' house's roof. "I think we owe our daughters an apology for not believing them. What the hell is that, Wendy?"
She looked at where he was gesturing. There was something up there. It was dark and hard to make out. She saw the outlines of bat-like wings, but that was no bat or bird.
Miss Newman approached them. "If you'll allow me." She swiped a finger across the screen, and another picture appeared—this one taken of higher in the air. The same thing was flying high above the tree. The form was a little clearer, showing it had a long hairy tail and had four legs tucked up under it. "That one was from the night before. I flipped her off. Between that, shooting at her twice, and saving you last night, I assume she and her compatriots were pissed off at me. That's the danger of painting a target on yourself; sooner or later, someone will shoot at you. I pissed off a group of ponies who were already out to do murder. That's why my house was on fire last night. It is also why there is no point in telling the police. I mean, what am I supposed to tell them that doesn't get me taken off to the looney bin if they don't believe or Area Fifty-One if they do?"
"These pictures could be fakes. You already proved you're a liar," Charles said defiantly. "And whatever that thing is, it isn't a pony. You're just saying that because Charlotte called it a vampire pony. And why do you keep referring to it as a she?"
"I did find it curious Charlotte jumped to using that term since it is the right one," Miss Newman hummed. "Well, partially right. That's no vampire, and the term pony refers to a species very different from ponies you are familiar with. Oh, and that is definitely a mare. There's at least two more running about that are stallions, although there could be others. I can only go by what I've seen, but I don't expect more due to the method of getting here's constraints. They also seem to have at least one human ally, possibly more, since I doubt any of them could properly drive that van."
"You talk about them like they are people. Are you claiming it is an alien invasion?" Wendy asked mockingly. This was all beyond ridiculous. Did Miss Newman seriously expect them to believe in stories this far-fetched?
"I refer to them like people because they are people, and you need to understand you aren't dealing with animals. You are dealing with intelligent beings who are here to do premeditated murder," Miss Newman hissed. "You need to take it seriously because I'm confident that they're going to attempt an attack on this house tonight."
"There's nothing you could possibly say or show us that would make us believe you. We aren't stupid," Charles asserted.
Miss Newman sighed. "I had hoped to avoid this, but I guess I'm going to have to resort to it to prove you need to listen."
The woman stood up and started taking off her clothes. Charles hastily turned his head so he wouldn't see anything inappropriate.
Wendy just gaped. "What the hell are you doing?"
"Giving you irrefutable proof that ponies are real. We need to make this quick, as the police are on their way, and there is no way I'd be able to explain this away," Miss Newman said as she took her shirt off. Wendy got a clear view of the necklace now. It looked like a piece of quartz wrapped tightly in gold chains. Miss Newman did not attempt to remove it as she moved on to taking the borrowed pants off.
Charles still was looking away. "How does stripping prove anything other than you're insane?!"
"Because I am a pony, one that is on your side trying to protect you, and you're about to see that once take this necklace off. Please try not to freak out," Miss Newman said in a tired voice as she finished stripping everything off except the necklace. "This necklace requires a day of downtime every week, and yesterday was that day. It's an unfortunate design limitation. That's why I spent the night hiding. I had to wait on the necklace to finish recharging before I could return to human form."
Wendy stood up with the intent to get the phone and call the police. The woman was clearly unhinged.
Then Miss Newman took the necklace off.
"CHARLES!!" Wendy screamed as she backed away from the creature now standing there.
Charles turned to look and started to scream something as well. However, both of their screams were cut off as the creature's horn glowed, and they found they could neither move nor speak.
"I expected that to happen," the creature said with Miss Newman's voice. "Luckily, I was ready to re—aaawww! Ow! What the hell!" The thing yelled in pain as an action figure collided with its head.
"Leave my mommy and daddy alone!" Charlotte yelled from the hallway.
Whatever had been holding Wendy and Charles ceased, and both of them immediately went into motion. Wendy grabbed Charlotte, and all three moved into Charlotte's room to find that Andrea and Kristin were already there. The three had been spying from Charlotte's doorway.
"Keep moving to the backdoor while that thing is dazed. We can get to the car from the backyard," Charles instructed.
"No! We need to go out the window. She'll be expecting us to make a run for the door!" Wendy shouted.
The door to Andrea and Kristin's room suddenly slammed shut and a blue glow covered Charlotte's window.
They all turned to see the red-furred creature behind them, wincing in pain from where it had been hit, but horn aglow again with blue light.
"I hope this is proof enough that ponies are real. Now, sit down on the bed and try to be calm. I'm not going to hurt any of you, but you need to listen to me if you want to survive the night," Miss Newman instructed with a growl.
Chapter 11: The Only Thing More Dangerous than a Genius is an Idiot
Charles sat debating if he could somehow get past the creature blocking the door to the hallway, get to his room, and get the gun stashed in the closet. It seemed unlikely. The beast already had proven it could stop him without touching him. Charlotte had proven that it could be hurt when not on guard for an attack, but all five of them were sitting right in the creature's field of view.
It was red-furred and had a purple mane and tail with yellow highlights. There was a horn directly in the middle of its head that exerted some sort of power. She also had a tattoo or brand on her flanks, which looked like a Bible. There were a few grey hairs mixed in here and there and a nasty-looking scar on her neck and shoulder. The scar proved she wasn't invincible, although he couldn't guess what had given her a scar like that one.
"I need to make this explanation quick before the police get here," Miss Newman said, horn still glowing. "I'll give you a more detailed explanation after they leave. You deserve to know what's going on, but I need more time to do that."
"Talk," Charles ordered.
Miss Newman sat down. "Those other ponies and their allies technically aren't after all of you. The rest of you are just barriers to getting to their target. The one they want dead is Charlotte. The rest of you are acceptable casualties to them in that quest."
Wendy moved to shield their youngest daughter as Charlotte started to cry. "You aren't going to hurt my baby!"
"I'm trying to protect her!" Miss Newman fumed. "I'm trying to protect all of you. That's why I'm here. Believe me; it would have been easier for me to stay at home, my real home, than come here and babysit all of you. It would have no impact on my life if they killed her, so I could have ignored them and laughed when they realized the truth, but I'm not letting them get away with murder."
"Why do they want to hurt Charlotte?" Charles asked.
"Petty vengeance, extremely petty," Miss Newman answered with a shake of her head. "Taking vengeance on her for things she hasn't even done yet and is now unlikely to even do—which makes their foray here even more pointless. Even if it did make some sort of impact, which it won't, there are countless more effective places they could have gone to change the world, but no, they felt like attacking a child because they're idiots. You can't expect intelligent thinking from people blinded by hate. They're fools, and that's what makes them dangerous."
"I don't understand," Charles replied.
The pony hung her head. "Let me spell it out. We're not aliens; we're from Earth, only not from this time. We're from a future. Let me stress that A, as in one of many. The second they all came back here, they created a divergent timeline that is not connected to the timeline we came from. No matter what they do here, it changes nothing when they return home because it is now two different timelines. It is pointless to ask what Charlotte did in that timeline because it will never happen here—the course of her life has changed. She wasn't even that important in terms of the big picture in my timeline. They just hated her and gave up on trying to kill her then, after multiple failed attempts, and decided to go after her here because they believe killing her as a helpless child gets rid of her in our timeline. As I said, stupid petty idiots who don't understand they can't change the past, only make alternate timelines."
"How far in the future?" Andrea asked in a small voice.
Miss Newman looked at her. "It doesn't matter, but if you wish to know, we're from roughly sixty years in the future. These ponies who are attacking you aren't even born yet in this year. The two I saw looked like they were in their twenties or thirties, maybe forties. I don't know them personally, so I couldn't tell you for sure. Ponies have similar lifespans to humans, but we age more gracefully up to a point."
Charles looked at Miss Newman's grey hairs. "Were you telling the truth about your age?"
She stiffened. "Yes, I tried to tell the truth whenever possible. I'm not the most honest person, but it's easier to keep up with the truth than lies."
"So… there's a younger you alive in this time?" Charles said, trying to put things together.
"Yes, and don't go digging for information about that," Miss Newman warned. "The much younger me has no idea what's coming. She's completely innocent. Almost every single pony over a certain age in my time had been a human originally; only younger ones were born that way. The first generation of ponies who were born as ponies is just now coming into adulthood. Humans are still around and still the dominant species on the planet, but there are three-quarters of a billion ponies on the planet too. None of us chose to become ponies; it was just something that happened, the result of a virus. There's been no human-pony war or anything like that. For the most part, it is peaceful coexistence with only occasional patches of friction. These ponies, the ones here to hurt Charlotte, are bad eggs which would love to see a human-pony war, but don't judge all of us by their actions."
The pony's ears suddenly swiveled like radar, picking up noise. "Crap! The police are here! Their car just pulled up. I can't have them see me like this. I need to get my necklace on and get dressed. I need you to stall them and don't tell them anything about ponies. This is completely out of their depth, and they wouldn't believe you anyway. If I meant you harm, I could have killed you all instead of explaining myself. Please, trust me, for yourselves, and for Charlotte."
Miss Newman then hurried into the bathroom, and the clothes and necklace flew through the air from the living room after her. A second later, the bathroom door slammed shut.
Wendy looked at Charles. "What do we do?"
He honestly had no idea. They could tell the police what was happening, show them the pictures, warn them that Miss Newman wasn't human, but she was right; it was unlikely the police would take that seriously. The bathroom was close enough to the front of the house that she'd hear anything being said anyway. The police could possibly protect his family if he accused Miss Newman of being deranged. They'd figure out the truth real fast when they took that necklace off her.
"I don't want a monster pony to hurt me!" Charlotte cried.
Charles chewed on his lip. On the flip side, Miss Newman was the one warning them about the danger, and given the powers she had demonstrated in the last few minutes, he could believe that she had been the one to get Wendy and Charlotte out of the road. That counted for something. How much could he afford to trust her? She wasn't even human. However, if she was telling the truth, then Charlotte's life, possibly all their lives, were in danger. Would the police be able to defend them? Would they make any attempt to protect them? Police didn't do patrols in this area. The only one here who even knew what ponies were capable of doing was Miss Newman. Without her, they had no idea what to defend against.
The doorbell rang. It was decision time.
He stood up, took a deep breath, and walked to the front door. "Coming! Be right there!"
The bathroom door was still shut as he passed by. How long did it take her to dress? Did switching back and forth tire her out? Charles wished he had more information about what she could and could not do and what those other ponies could and couldn't do. That pony in the picture had wings. Miss Newman had no wings. That pony in the picture had to physically strike Wendy to knock her in the street. Miss Newman could send Wendy hurtling through the air without setting a foot near her. Why was one so different from the other? Miss Newman had a lot of explaining to do.
Charles opened the front door and found two officers standing there. "Hello, I'm officer Perkins, and this is officer Roe. We are looking for Cherese Newman, your neighbor whose house burned down. Is she here? We need to ask her a few questions."
"Miss Newman is here. She's in the bathroom," he informed the officers. He then stepped to the side. "Did you want to come in while we wait on her? Last time I had to wait on her, it took forever—you know how old people's bowels are."
"I heard that!" Miss Newman yelled from the bathroom. "Someday, you'll be old too and have to deal with things like hemorrhoids. Speaking of which, do you think you could get me some cream for that later?"
He hoped she was playing along and didn't need hemorrhoid cream. Whether ponies got hemorrhoids was not a question the world needed to be answered.
The officers looked at one another, silently expressing their feelings about the crazy woman shouting about her hemorrhoids, and stepped in through the door. As they were doing so, Miss Newman emerged from the bathroom, human again, with all her clothing facing the right direction and a distressed look on her face.
"Officers! What happened to my house?! I was out for much of the night, and when I came back, there was just a burnt ruin with a police line around it. I'm so glad the Portsmith's let me nap on their couch till morning when I could call. It also had the blanket my mother knitted me before she died. It is my most precious possession. The only thing I have to remember her by. Did you find it? Surely it survived."
Charles frowned as the lies poured forth from Miss Newman's mouth.
Perkins stepped back, looking uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Our crews were unable to find anything in the house. I'm very sorry for the loss of your blanket. I know how precious things like that can be. I do need to ask you a few questions."
Miss Newman dropped to her knees and began sobbing loudly. "Oh no! Mama's blanket! I...I can't believe it. I should go over there and search for it myself."
Perkins held up a hand as if to block her even though she hadn't moved. "I wouldn't advise that, ma'am. It isn't safe to go walking around in that. I'll ask if anyone saw a blanket when I get back to the station. For now, can you try to be calm and answer our questions?"
Miss Newman gave a miserable nod, sniffling as she did so. "I can try."
Roe pulled out a notepad and began. "You say you were out last night and came back very late. Around what time did you go out, and what time did you return?"
Miss Newman sat and considered. "I believe it was around eight or nine I went out. There were still a few children about. It took me forever to find the park, but a nice boy at the Seven-Eleven gave me directions. I fell asleep on the bench shortly after getting to the park, and I'm not sure what time I woke up."
"You fell asleep at the park?" Perkins asked. "Ma'am, this is a dangerous neighborhood. It would be best if you were more careful. Someone could have tried to rob you."
She shook her head. "I didn't have my purse or anything on me—nothing for them to rob. That might be why they left me alone. I'm not sure what time I got back since I don't have a watch or anything. It was dark, and the fire trucks were gone." She turned to look at Charles. "What time did you let me in, dear? I know it was really late. I'm sorry for having woken you up."
She expected him to help her lie to the officers? Didn't she have any shame at all?
He scratched his head. "Not sure. I was half-asleep. We had a long night before that, running Wendy to the hospital."
"Who is Wendy, and why were you running her to the hospital?" Roe asked.
Wendy walked into the room. "I'm Wendy. I fell in the street and dislocated my shoulder. I almost got run over by a van speeding through the neighborhood like a maniac. Are you guys looking for that van? They could have killed someone. They were really suspicious."
Roe scratched his head. "That would be a different case if someone called it in, so I don't know any details on that. I will note that there was a suspicious van in the area last night, just in case it becomes pertinent. Do you have a description or license plate number for it?"
"Just that it was a dark van, and whoever was driving it acted like they were trying to hit me," Wendy answered. "No one got their plate, but everyone agreed they seemed to be aiming for me. It was around eight last night."
"I remember that!" Miss Newman exclaimed. "I left for my walk right after the ambulance took Wendy to the hospital. I remember thinking to myself that if I saw that van again, I needed to get the plate number and report it, but I didn't see it again."
"Noted," Roe said, and he flipped back a few pages in his notes. "You said you didn't have any of your IDs, and they were in the house. You told our operator that you'd be contacting your landlord for copies. Have you done that yet?"
Miss Newman shook her head. "No, as soon as I got off the phone, I ended up urgently needing to go to the bathroom. I didn't expect you two to get here so fast; otherwise, I would have asked Wendy or Charles to call for me. You do outstanding work at your station! Very efficient!"
"Thank you, ma'am. We do our best," Perkins replied.
Actually doing some patrols around the neighborhood would be better. Charles thought bitterly to himself.
"You know," Miss Newman said. "They have one of those fax machines at my landlord's office. Did you know that? Does the police department have a fax machine too?"
Perkins nodded. "We do."
Miss Newman clapped. "Good! I can have my landlord fax you my ID stuff. Isn't modern technology wonderful? I don't know how we would all get by with just the technology I had when I was a child."
Perkins pulled a card out of his shirt pocket and passed it to Miss Newman. "That will work. That card has the police fax number on it. What is a good number to reach you at?"
Wendy recited off the house phone number, and the officers seemed satisfied with their brief questioning. It wasn't much of an interview, but maybe they assumed Miss Newman was a clueless old lady and didn't want to waste time with her. Not that they ever gave this neighborhood much of their time to begin with. They gave instructions for her to send the IDs and took their leave.
Once they were sure the officers were back in their car, Charles let off a long breath. "I can't believe we just lied to the cops."
Miss Newman shrugged. "Not my first time, and that's even with me formerly having been a mayor."
"That doesn't make you seem like someone we should be trusting," Wendy muttered.
"Yet it seems you are," Miss Newman countered.
"So what did Charlotte do in the future that made these ponies mad enough to want to travel through time to kill her?" Charles asked.
Miss Newman frowned. "I'm not sure you want to hear that. It could give you the wrong idea without proper context. I will say that everything she did, those ponies deserved."
"Just tell us," Wendy growled.
"Fine, but don't look badly on her for it," Miss Newman said in resignation and started lifting fingers as she listed things off. "She regularly acted as an informant to the FBI about their group activities—nefarious activities, I assure you. She flaunted that she had information that they desperately wanted and that she would never tell them—information that could lead them to make a pony world with no humans if they had it. Called out their misdeeds and denounced them on national television. She caused a massive schism in their group, which greatly reduced their power and influence. She had several of their members arrested for treason against the United States. She also blew one of their minor leaders' horns to bits during a fight which resulted in him dying from severe burn wounds in the resulting explosion. Please don't feel bad for him; he had been a murderer and had threatened to torture and murder a foal—which she was there to save. As I said, they deserved what they got. Still, to say they hate her would be an understatement."
Charles was practically speechless. "You're talking about our daughter?"
Miss Newman nodded. "However, they have found she is now near untouchable in our time—too many powerful allies and too much security. They have branded her as a traitor to their cause—which is true enough—and also one of their biggest obstacles to remove. They can't kill her there, so they are trying to get her here where she can't fight back or the security and allies to guard her flank. I've already explained why their plan is stupid, but here we are, proving Tom and Jerry right."
Wendy shook her head, then stiffened. "So… she's a pony?"
Miss Newman looked Wendy in the eyes. "Every single person in this house is in my time; one-quarter of the United States is, and at least two-thirds of your descendants—many of whom are notable in their own right. Believe me, being a pony isn't a bad thing. Don't take it as that much of a shock or anything to be horrified about. From what I understand, every one of you is quite content with your new species. All three of your kids have big families, successful careers, and are respected members of their community. Be proud; your family is one of the most powerful and influential families in the US. I don't know how things will go now because current events have negated that future. Let's focus on keeping you all alive, and hopefully, you and your daughters will still end up with happy and fulfilling lives. Whether you end up as ponies or humans in the future, your safety and well-being are what's important. I'm not going to allow them to kill a kid on my watch."
Charles and his wife could only give dumbfounded stares.
Miss Newman smirked. "Now, can I please finally call my landlord?"
"Do I need to repeat those numbers again?" Miss Newman said over the phone. She waited a moment, then nodded. "Good. I hope you enjoy your money. Now, I need a hotel suite in a good part of town, room service fully covered—something that can hold three adults and three children. I prefer one big suite, but we can divide it into two rooms if needed—and it needs to be a hotel, not a motel, got it? That means there should be no outdoor access to the room. I would book it for three days, just to be safe, starting tonight. We might check out earlier, but three days is a safe number. I know this isn't cheap, but I think what I have provided you more than makes up for it."
Wendy sat and waited as Miss Newman spoke to her landlord. Charlotte was leaning against her side that didn't have the cast. The other two girls were huddled up against Charles. It seemed like Miss Newman was getting them all out of the house for the time being, and her landlord was footing the bill in exchange for the winning lottery numbers and a list of winning sports scores. It was very shady, but it seemed like the source of Miss Newman's income. Wendy supposed that if you could travel back in time, that would be the quickest way to make a quick buck.
"Thank you, Jim," Miss Newman said, wrapping up the call. "I will contact you with new numbers in three days. And Jim...don't double-cross me. I'm not someone you want to be on the wrong side of. You treat me well, and I keep you rolling in money. Triple-check to make sure those IDs will look good for the police. If you need more money, you know where you can contact me."
Wendy again silently questioned trusting Miss Newman. She was just making threats over the phone and was effectively rigging gambling for this man. Would the older woman make threats against them as well? Technically they were under threat from these ponies. This could still be some elaborate and over-complicated setup, but Wendy couldn't think of anything Miss Newman could gain by staging all of this.
Miss Newman finished the call and hung up the phone. "If I recall the details correctly. You were planning on moving in a few months, over the summer, once the kids were done with school. I think it would be wise to advance that timetable. The ponies will have a hard time traveling across the country. Making the move now may be all that is needed to ensure your safety, especially if you don't move to the same neighborhood as you did in my timeline. I can have Jim help with a down payment for a place and travel expenses; he is about to win the lottery, after all. Or I could give you all the winning numbers for the next drawing, but those numbers become less and less reliable the longer I'm here—butterfly effect and all that. It also delays us leaving, and that's not advisable. Unfortunately, I don't have similar records for the Florida lottery."
"Florida doesn't have a lottery," Charles said.
Miss Newman pursed her lips. "It doesn't? I must be misremembering things. I'm very certain it does in my time; perhaps it just hasn't been instituted there yet."
"What's to stop them from just going back in time again?" Wendy asked.
"They can't, they stole the method to get here from me, and they don't know how to replicate it. Even if they could, they won't get a chance because when they return home, they have a very nasty surprise waiting for them," Miss Newman replied. "If we stall them long enough, they will be forced to go back and be captured immediately. There is a time limit on how long it can hold them here, a little less than a month. We just have to keep you safe until then. We could also find and destroy their anchor stone and send them back immediately, but I don't have a clue where that might be."
"How do you know all those winning numbers? How did you know you could get that property manager to help you? Plus, we haven't even decided to go to Florida. How did you know about it?" Wendy demanded in quick succession.
Miss Newman leveled a cold gaze on her. "I have on my tablet one month's worth of newspapers from the Denver Post that I downloaded from their archive before I left. Don't ask me what a download is; just understand I have copies of all those newspapers. They tell me all those numbers. They also tell me that in my timeline that property manager commits a murder-suicide in two weeks due an argument with his wife about his gambling debt."
Wendy gasped and covered her mouth in horror.
Miss Newman pointed to her tablet. "Now, that tells me he is a desperate man with a gambling addiction. That was something I could leverage. Things like that are why I brought those newspaper copies. Knowledge is power, and even forgotten headlines like that can be powerful information. I see this as mutually beneficial between him and me. I get what I need, and he hopefully doesn't go into so much debt and despair that he feels the only way out is killing himself and his wife. I'm pragmatic, but not heartless."
"Shouldn't you be concerned about changing the past or something?" Charles asked worriedly.
The older woman shook her head. "Not unless there is some obvious negative impact. I already told you, what happens here has a zilch effect on my timeline, and it has already been altered."
"So you just go into the past and mess with random things?" Charles asked.
Miss Newman hung her head. "No, I developed this method of time travel after borrowing some information from a friend about her time travel exploits. She had built upon someone else's work, and I built upon hers. I planned to use it to save someone important to me by rescuing them right before they died and bringing them back to my timeline with me. However, I soon learned that canceling her self-sacrifice could have doomed that divergent timeline. It was something I could see the cause and effect of, and I'm not going to doom billions for the sake of one, even her. I should have destroyed all records and materials for time travel, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. In the back of my mind, I was still thinking it might someday be useful or that I would find a solution to save her without dooming her timeline. But these bastards broke into my vault and stole it from me. They'd never be here if I did what I should have and destroyed it all, so them trying to kill your daughter is indirectly my fault, and I'm deeply sorry for that. I'm doing everything I can to fix that mistake."
"So why didn't you bring reinforcements or some super-powered high-tech future weapon?!" Wendy demanded. "You brought what, that little computer, some clothes, your necklace, a Bible, a shotgun, and a big chunk of quartz. How are you supposed to defend her with just that??"
"That hunk of quartz is my anchor stone. It's what keeps me here," Miss Newman explained calmly. She then turned away. "As for the rest...I was pressed for time. I had minutes before I would have lost the ability to follow. I had no time to prepare, and I didn't have time to deal with the inevitable arguments that would have erupted about chasing after them. I gathered a few things that would aid me, left orders to guard the return point, and left before they could argue."
Wendy and Charles looked at one another, then back at Miss Newman.
"You came here with no plan," Wendy stared with her eyes leveled on the time traveler. "You came here without any freaking clue how you are going to protect us. You've just been winging it from the start!"
Miss Newman scowled. "I do have a plan. That plan is to stall them out and deny them any opportunity to strike. Moving you from here to Florida accomplishes that, and you were going to end up moving anyway. Plans don't need to be complicated."
"I don't want to move! My friends are here!" Andrea protested.
Miss Newman leveled a harsh glare at Andrea, but then softened it. "Andrea, my version of the future you is the shield and the spear of your family, their guard, and their protector. Sometimes being a protector means doing things we don't want to do. I know you don't want to leave your friends, but your baby sister and the rest of your family are in danger. You don't want them getting hurt, right?"
Andrea sniffled. "Why are you here instead of me if I protect us? Does she not care?"
The old woman shook her head. "No, she cares. My necklace wouldn't work on her. She'd have no way of getting around here unnoticed. I'm not sure the method of getting here would have worked for her either. It has to do with the type of pony she is; they can be very disruptive to spells—she'd have been very effective in dealing with their unicorn. Believe me, if she could, she would be here kicking those ponies' flanks so hard they would regret ever being born. She used to be a government agent, so you better bet she knows how. You don't have to follow that same path, but I know you have protection in your blood."
"What about me? Would I come to kick their butts too?" Kristin asked, unable to resist hearing about her future self too.
"Not so much, dear. My version of you isn't that type of fighter," Miss Newman answered. When Kristin looked disappointed, the woman lifted the girl's head with a finger. "She's a lawyer, a family law and civil rights lawyer, and she fights her battles in the courts. Most fights that matter need ponies like her. You don't have to grow up to be a lawyer if you don't want to. I know that you'll be great, no matter what you choose to be, because you're a smart girl. I do want you to know she's a good pony who makes a difference in many people's lives, and I know you'll end up making a difference too. Though I would at least consider going into law, your little sister needs you to help clean up her mistakes."
Charlotte whimpered. "I make mistakes?"
"Yes, you make more mistakes than the rest of your family combined," Miss Newman answered. Charlotte started to cry.
Wendy went red in the face. "You can't say something like that to her! She's a child!"
"I'm not finished with what I'm saying," Miss Newman said in an emotionless voice, then refocused on the youngest child. "Charlotte, do you know the difference between an amateur and master?"
"What does am-mat-tour mean?" Charlotte asked, fumbling the word.
"Someone who knows how to do something but isn't very good at it," Miss Newman answered. "Do you know the difference?"
"The master is good at it and the other one ain't," Charlotte answered confidently.
Miss Newman chuckled. "Well, yes, that is true. What I'm getting at is how the master managed to become so good. The master has failed more times than the amateur has tried. My version of you has made more mistakes than you could believe. At times, she has gotten disheart-... she has gotten very sad because of that. However, she always ends up trying again, learning from each mistake, and becoming wiser and more knowledgeable along the way. You're your family's biggest headache, but they still follow along without complaint—or little complaint anyway— because they know that at the end of each road you take them down, no matter how bumpy, you're going to do something great that no one has seen before. You're a master of so many things, but you're also a fool who is wise enough to admit she makes mistakes. Those ponies that want to get you are totally jealous of how great you are."
Charlotte stared, her young mind unable to process that monologue. "I don't know what all that means."
Miss Newman choked back a laugh and ruffled Charlotte's hair. "Admitting you don't know something or understand is the first step in learning. Do what you do, and don't ever get discouraged by failure, and you'll end up great."
"Okay," Charlotte replied, nodding her head.
The old woman looked at the three kids. "How about you three go play in your rooms while your parents and I talk. Is that alright?"
The three girls looked at their parents.
Wendy nodded. "Go ahead, but no going outside." The three girls instantly left the couch and scattered to their rooms.
When they were sure they were all gone, Wendy focused her eyes on Miss Newman. "You didn't mention what Charlotte was a master of or any type of career like the other two."
Miss Newman shrugged. "Do you want to really know when ponies hate her so much that they are willing to go back in time to kill her? Let's leave the subject alone. This Charlotte is going to have a very different life, most likely, so let's focus on giving her a chance to live it and see what happens, shall we?"
Motherly instinct made Wendy want to know, even if she was afraid of the answer, but she had a feeling she'd get rebuffed. "What should we be doing now?"
Charles was in Andrea and Kristin's room, trying to pack up clothes for them. There was only so much they could bring with them in the car to the hotel, and they had no idea how long it would be till they had access to the items in their house again. He and Wendy had already decided that each of the girls should be allowed to bring a small box of toys, even though they'd be cramped for space. They couldn't just leave the field with nothing to do.
Wendy was in Charlotte's room, doing the same task. The doors between the two rooms were wide open, and Charles had a clear view of his wife. Wendy seemed torn between her task and trying to look out into the living room every thirty seconds, slowing her down considerably. Charles couldn't blame her anxiety. Miss Newman was in the living room with the girls, and neither of them was happy about them being left alone with the older woman, but packing needed to be done, and the kids couldn't be expected to accomplish it. Miss Newman likewise had nowhere to go and was awaiting the return call from her former landlord. The four of them were now watching videotapes of old cartoons that they had recorded.
There were other things to address. What were they going to do about the pets? They could try bringing them along, but their cages would take up space in an already cramped station wagon, space that was further cramped by needing to fit a third adult in it. Perhaps they could convince Miss Newman to travel in her pony form with a blanket over her? That would save some space; not a lot, but every little bit helped. It might be a good idea anyway. From what he could tell, she didn't have access to her powers when she was in human form, and if something happened, it would be better if she could use her abilities rather than be as useless as him or Wendy. Maybe she could do something as human and hadn't shown it yet. He'd have to ask her.
There were still more things to do; they needed to inform the kids' school that they were suddenly moving; the same went for Wendy's work and his. Not being able to give a two-week notice wasn't a great thing. In Wendy's case, the fact she was out with injury for two weeks made that transition a little easier. What it didn't make easier was figuring out what to do about her follow-up doctor appointments. They also had to figure out how their remaining things that weren't moving tonight were going to be packed up and moved, and they needed to get in touch with their bank about the mortgage. So much to do in so little time. His head spun with how fast his world had been upended, and that wasn't even getting into the fantastical other things going on.
He passed his hands over Kristin's game system. Not an electronics expert but a lawyer. He had misplaced his guess on his daughter's future. Of course, that was his daughter's future before all this stuff had occurred. Who knew what she would end up as now. Electronics could still be in her future; it was a blank slate. Even Miss Newman said Kristin was a bright girl who could succeed at anything she put her mind to and didn't need to tie herself to any particular path.
His attention turned to Andrea's walkie-talkies that she played police officer with. A government agent was sort of like a police officer. It was law enforcement, just answerable to the federal government rather than local or state. Miss Newman hadn't said FBI or CIA to clarify, but something like that seemed to be what she meant. Pride welled up in him because both Andrea and Kristin seemed to have ended up very successful.
He frowned as he turned his attention back to Wendy's progress packing Charlotte's room. Charlotte was the concerning one of the three, extremely concerning. Nothing about her right now suggested any crazy future, but Miss Newman avoided saying exact details about Charlotte. From what little Charles had gathered from the tidbits Miss Newman had dropped, Charlotte wasn't a bad person in the future, but she had a complicated history loaded with bad decisions and mistakes. She was also apparently very famous and notable, an expert at multiple unknown somethings, and had killed at least one pony...person...in self-defense, or at least, in defense of a child. She'd also been, at some point, deeply involved with the group that was now trying to kill her before turning on them. Being involved with such a hateful group that condoned the murder of children, even temporarily involved, was not something he could imagine any of his girls ever being caught up in.
What the hell went so wrong with my baby girl's life to make things end up like that? Was it something Wendy or I did or didn't do? She's such a happy little girl, so innocent. She's not any of that stuff. Charles thought to himself as he sadly shook his head.
But Charlotte wouldn't be a baby girl in Miss Newman's time. She'd be in her mid-sixties, more than twice Charles or Wendy's current age. And Andrea...thank God Andrea hadn't come back in time from that far in the future. Andrea would be over seventy, and despite her supposed history of being a government agent and the fact ponies supposedly aged more gracefully, she was too old to be trying to defend a family—seventy years old was still seventy, and Miss Newman said they had similar lifespans. Regardless, the point was that everyone, good or bad, was just a cute little kid once upon a time. Charlotte's once upon a time just happened to be at the current moment.
He finished packing his two older daughter's clothes and walked into the other room to join his wife. The suitcase with Charlotte's clothing was filled, but Wendy was looking over various other things in the room while still casting glances back to the living room.
"Think the girls' clothes are all packed," Charles announced. "We need to get our stuff ready."
Wendy silently nodded, but instead of moving on, she sat down on Charlotte's bed and picked up Charlotte's favorite stuffed animal, a greenish-yellow dinosaur she had named Squeezer.
"It's so hard to think of my little girls as all grown up where Miss Newman comes from," Wendy said softly. "She talks about them like she knows them."
Charles sat down next to his wife. "Yeah, I got that impression too." He forced a chuckle. "At least she gave glowing reviews."
"For Andrea and Kristin," Wendy said in a whisper.
He agreed and had been echoing those same thoughts in his head just moments before, but he still felt the need to play devil's advocate. "Charlotte's stuff seemed a mixed bag, but there was some good stuff in there. She fought to defend a kid...I assume that's what's meant by the term foal. She's good at a lot of things too. The family sticks by her too, and they wouldn't do that if she were a horrible person."
"Being good at a lot of things could be good or bad, depending on what things, and a family can forgive almost anything," Wendy muttered.
"Well, we don't need to worry about that because that version of Charlotte is a completely different person than our daughter. She may have shared the same history up until a few days ago, but things have changed now," Charles reminded her.
"But how much?" Wendy questioned. "Should we be more disciplinarian with her, so we keep her on the right track? Do we do what Joan says we should do and enforce more traditional girl stereotypes on her?"
"We don't enforce those things on any of our girls, and Andrea and Kristin turned out well," Charles replied. "We have no way of knowing what went wrong or if we had anything to do with how we raise her. Life can get crazy, and we're responsible for our kids for only a fraction of their lives. We don't know what may have happened after she left our care. We do know at least one big thing happened, that whole turning into a pony thing. I figure that had to turn many things upside down, and nothing we could have taught our kids could have prepared them for that. I mean, who could anticipate anything like that or have any idea what advice to give? It's an unreal situation that had to have changed the course of everyone's lives."
"Like the situation we are in now?" Wendy asked, looking him in the eye.
He shrugged. "Well, guess our girls are going to be some of the few who get practice at dealing with impossible situations well ahead of time."
Wendy looked out to the living room again. "Why do you think Miss Newman doesn't look like the pony that knocked me into the street? And why did that pony have to do it physically while Miss Newman can move things without touching them?"
"Guess there are different types of ponies. She mentioned Andrea's type in the future naturally messed up things like time travel and that necklace of hers," Charles answered. "Kristin and Andrea stated that one of the ponies they saw had feathers and the other didn't. The one that hit you and the one Charlotte saw had no feathers. Miss Newman doesn't even have wings."
"We should ask her. We need to know what we're up against if we are expected to defend ourselves," Wendy said, seeming to pull herself out of her funk as she struggled to stand up with one arm. Charles provided her a shoulder to brace herself against, and Wendy accepted gratefully. "We have time; let's go do it now."
They walked in and found the girls' attention glued to the TV while Miss Newman shook her head in disbelief.
Miss Newman gestured a hand at the screen. "I honestly forgot this show even existed. It's like they made a male version of Tempest, made him a horse, and then created the worst show intro I have ever witnessed or had the displeasure of listening to. Have you seen this horse's expressions? Every scene looks like he is technically possessed and ready to eat your liver!"
"I like Wildfire!" Charlotte exclaimed.
The older woman gave the child a dirty look. "Count this as the first of many questionable life choices that you'll regret in the future."
Charles was now the one who had to stare in disbelief. "We have killer ponies after us. You are making us move. You time-traveled from sixty years in the future to here, and the thing you are currently concerned about is the quality of cartoons our kids are watching?"
She shrugged. "There's nothing important I need to be doing at the moment. The ponies won't try anything in daylight when they can be easily spotted, and we all need downtime. I hope Jim calls back soon. I could use a nap before we go to the hotel. I didn't get any sleep last night."
"Well, since you don't have anything important to do right now, can you tell us exactly what those ponies that are after us are capable of doing, or what you are capable of doing for that matter?" Wendy asked.
"They have a vampire pony that will suck our blood!" Charlotte explained and positioned her fingers like they were fangs.
Miss Newman was not impressed. "I'm glad you're adjusting to the situation," she said dryly. "However, she isn't a vampire."
"But it's got bat wings like a vampire!" Kristin insisted. "Is it a bat pony?"
"That term is considered a slur, and that pony is a she, not an it," Miss Newman explained. "She is primarily nocturnal. Bright light hurts her eyes. She can't fly as high or fast as a pegasus, but she can see better in the dark than you can see in daylight. She has some other powers, but they're not useful here because you don't have dreams that connect to that realm and can ensure mine operates on the wrong wavelength for her."
Charles raised his hand like a student in a class. "I didn't understand any of that last part."
"It's irrelevant, so don't worry about it," Miss Newman replied. "Now, they also have a pegasus and a unicorn. The pegasus stallion can fly higher and faster than his compatriot. He can also alter the weather on a tiny scale. However, pegasi typically need whole teams to do anything notable to the weather, so we shouldn't need to concern ourselves with that part. He's no Rainbow Dash, Sunrise Storm, or Sapphire Sky, so his weather magic isn't going to cause us any trouble."
"What are Rainbow—" Wendy started to ask.
Miss Newman cut her off. "Also not relevant. The third one is a unicorn, like me, and he is the one we most need to worry about confronting—other than their human allies. Statistically speaking, he has far more magical power than me since I'm on the weak side. He is also clearly skilled enough to figure out how to operate my spell, which means he probably has a wide variety of spells at his disposal. I'm pretty sure he's the one who burned down my house."
Charles bit his lip. "You say spells. Do you mean like magic?"
She nodded. "Yes, like magic."
"Magic isn't real," Charles countered.
Miss Newman rolled her eyes. "Seriously? You have a talking unicorn in your house who can transform into a human who has used magic on you, and you are going to play that card?"
She paused and took a deep breath before taking on a lecturing tone. "Let me give you a scientific explanation. It is the manipulation of thaumic energy, traditionally called dark energy by physicists, to create controlled and complex reactions with other thaumic energy, thaumic matter, non-thaumic energy, and non-thaumic matter. The entire universe is highly saturated with thaumic energy, but life on Earth has a unique adaptation that keeps it normally noninteractive with thaumic energy. However, ponies are interactive with it, and with it, we do what is popularly called magic because magic sounds better than thaumically interactive. Does that explanation satisfy you for the moment?"
"You don't have to be so rude about it," Wendy muttered.
The older woman leaned back in her seat. "Sorry. It's no excuse, but I'm overtired and just as stressed as you. Finding all those fires forcefully starting around the house last night put me on edge. I have an affinity for fire magic, but that was too much for me to handle. I barely managed the teleport out. That's why getting you the hell out of Dodge is the best course of action. I can't win against that other unicorn in a direct confrontation. I'm smarter and more skilled, but he his raw powerful counters anything I could do in a sudden pinch."
Being told that they were outgunned didn't fill Charles with any more confidence about their situation. Running did seem to be the best choice. The problem was it wasn't a choice. He hated that this older woman or old pony or whoever she was had just swooped in and been able to take control of their lives in a day. The only reason he accepted it was his family was in danger, and she was the only one that understood what they were facing.
"I wish Jim would hurry up and call back with that hotel information. What's taking so long?" Miss Newman muttered as she went back to watching cartoons.
Wendy and her husband had finished loading things into their car and were now sitting around anticipating what came next as mid-afternoon advanced to late. Miss Newman had fallen asleep on their couch, Bible resting on her chest, still waiting for the phone call from their landlord. The girls were all playing in Andrea and Kristin's room, and so far, there hadn't been any sounds of fighting.
"Do you think we should wake her so she can call her landlord back?" Charles asked after finally corralling Cinnamon in the cat carrier.
Wendy shook her head as she stopped anxiously looking out the blinds. "I don't know. She needs her rest. She's our only real line of defense, and we can't afford to have her overtired."
"But she also said there was sure to be an attack tonight, and night is fast approaching," Charles reminded her. "And shouldn't she take that necklace off? She doesn't have her shotgun anymore, so she can't do anything to defend us as a human."
"We don't know that. Maybe she still has magic when she's human," Wendy countered and blinked away tears. She hated feeling this helpless and unsure of anything. "It's going to be hard to get her into the hotel if she isn't human, and having an old woman appear stark naked in our car will get us arrested or fined or who knows what."
Charles looked at the older woman's sleeping form. "I think we should wake her. She seemed to think that her landlord would have called back by now, and it's getting late. Better safe than sorry."
Wendy hesitated, then nodded. She walked over and gently shook Miss Newman. "Hey, wake up."
Miss Newman awoke with a start and flung her Bible at Wendy's face.
"OWW!" Wendy hissed in pain as she rubbed her face. Why did she have to keep being the one to take all the physical abuse?!
Miss Newman looked around and then at Wendy. "Sorry, I'm on edge. What is it?"
Charles answered for her. "It is almost five, and your landlord hasn't called yet. It will be getting dark in a few hours."
The woman bolted from the couch towards the phone. "Five?! Give me a moment. I need to call him."
They waited as she made her call. There was a long period of silence broken only by the faint sound of the ringing over the line. The ringing kept going and going with no answering machine picking up. Miss Newman finally hung up the phone and rubbed her temples.
"Think about the implications. What's the worst-case scenario?" Miss Newman muttered to herself.
She then went to the front window and peeked out the blinds before moving to the window overlooking the driveway. Pretty started singing to her, and she absently waved a hand at the bird as if that would make the cockatiel be quiet.
"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Miss Newman said frantically as she stepped away from the window. "We've got a problem, and it is, unfortunately, a problem of my own making."
Wendy frowned and stepped back. "What's wrong? What did you do?"
"Didn't take into account Jim's loan sharks or bookies or whoever it is who is now watching the house," Miss Newman growled. "So much for my empty threats keeping that heat off us."
Wendy gasped. "Why are they here? Why do they have anything to do with us?"
"You can't suddenly get that perfect at predicting every score and not draw attention to yourself. People wonder why, and when lots of money is on the line, they act fast to neutralize the reason. He'd rat me out in a second if threatened in order to save his own hide. Back to the Future Two is not an accurate example of how things work," Miss Newman replied as she started pacing ."Plus side, they most likely are only after me. They want to know how I'm fixing games or what source I know that is fixing games. Let me think a minute about how to deal with this."
Charles put on a sheepish grin and leaned over to whisper. "There's a sequel to Back to the Future? Guess we have something great to look forward to."
Wendy wanted to yell at him for focusing on that, but she knew Charles was just trying to cope with stress. He usually could be quite the jokester, and high pressure just heightened how bad the humor ended up being. She was surprised he'd been keeping as serious as he had been.
Miss Newman stopped pacing. "I doubt they want to mess with the kids if they can help it. It's too messy, and missing kids can get communities up in arms. They're focused on me. We're going to make it so I'm an easy target, and they can avoid all of you. They won't make this any more complicated than they have to. I apologize, but they may come in and vandalize your house, but it was still questionable whether the house was going to survive the night anyway if the ponies don't simply break in."
Wendy was ready to protest that, but at this point, any such protests just made her look foolish. It still didn't make Miss Newman look any better if this was all her fault. Every aspect of this was Miss Newman's fault since she was the one who created the time-traveling spell, yet they were still forced to do whatever she said as the older woman improvised one plan after another.
"I want you and the kids to be seen leaving without me. Everything should seem normal. I want the kids to act excited and loud about wherever you are going. You can say Toys R Us. That seems like something kids would get excited over. I know I would have been at their age," Miss Newman instructed.
"You want us to lie to our kids, or do you really want us to go to the toy store?" Charles asked.
Miss Newman looked at him like he was an idiot. "Why would I send you to a toy—actually, we're going to go to the toy store, just in case we get followed. At least, we'll park in their parking lot before moving on to the next destination."
"Which is going to be where?" Wendy asked.
"No idea, that's why we need to park. It gives us time to brainstorm that answer," Miss Newman answered. "We do want as much distance as we can between you and the house. That nocturnal mare is going to be out searching for you when you don't come home, and your station wagon is distinctive enough that she'll have no trouble finding it in the city."
"And how will you catch up to us?" Wendy asked.
"I won't need to. I'll already be in the car. They just won't ever see me get in. I'll teleport into it ahead of time. I can hide on the floorboards of the back seat. I might be able to do something about the thugs' car too; we'll see," Miss Newman explained. "I'll have to travel in pony form for a little while and switch back when there's a good opportunity. We need me in human form when on the road. I can spot the ponies that are after you better in human form. Just don't give the police any reason to stop the car."
"Do humans have better eyesight, aside from that one pony you mentioned? I mean, the girls probably have better eyesight than the rest of us. Shouldn't they be the ones on the lookout?" Charles asked.
She shook her head. "No, my human form comes with the benefit of human magic, and we need it. Human magic takes a wide variety of forms and varies widely from individual to individual. My form of human magic allows me to see disruptions in the thaumic field, and ponies are walking disruptions to that field. It's like looking at something very hot with an infrared camera, better even. They stand out like a sore thumb, even if they're hiding or behind a wall. I might not be able to do any other magic as a human, but being able to spot them sneaking around is the most useful asset I have against them. I'll be able to see them even if parts of the car are in the way, and I'll be able to see them through hotel room walls."
Wendy didn't like this one bit, but delaying things wouldn't help. "I'll get the girls."
"And I'll go to the bathroom and get back to my normal form. We should be leaving within five minutes. Wait for me to be in place before you go out to the car," Miss Newman instructed. She looked at Charles. "And have your handgun ready. I hope we don't, but we might need it."
"I packed it up. It's in the luggage in the car," Charles replied.
Miss Newman gave him an incredulous stare. "Why would you do that?! What good does a weapon do you if you don't have it readily available to use?!"
"We've never done things like this before. Forgive us if we haven't thought of stuff like that!" Wendy snapped at their inhuman protector.
Miss Newman growled to herself, then took a deep breath. "Fine. That just puts a little extra pressure on me for this initial drive. I hope we don't need to defend ourselves because a pony shooting magic beams will draw all kinds of unwanted notice."
"And me firing a gun won't?" Charles asked as he crossed his arms defiantly.
Miss Newman scowled. "Not the same type of attention. Anyway, after we reach the designated parking lot, I want you to take the time to unpack it and put it somewhere you can access it in a hurry. If any of the ponies realize I'm here, they'll still be warier of the gun than me, especially when they realize it is me and not someone else. I have a reputation for being a weakling. I'm extremely skilled, yes, probably the fourth or fifth most overall skilled unicorn there is, but strong no—laughably weak. Even Sunburst is stronger than me. Under normal circumstances, my unprepared horn blasts are best compared to a BB gun. I'm at my best when I have time to prepare something more complex, which is not the conditions you find in a fight. On the plus side, if they realize it's me and that I have no backup, they might turn their attention solely on me and forget about the rest of you, but I can't guarantee that; otherwise, I would have already willingly blown my cover to them to keep you safe, but I'm not going to do that if it doesn't accomplish anything."
Wendy definitely could imagine that Miss Newman indeed had been a mayor and a preacher. The pony liked to bark orders and monologue. Miss Newman had said that she told the truth when possible, so it might not have been a lie. When they had some downtime, they needed to clarify what had been lies and what had been honest, but that time wasn't right now.
She hurried to the kids' room and ordered them to head towards the door. They each grabbed a toy last-minute. She wanted to object and say that the car was packed as it was and they each already had toys packed, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Was she too lenient and soft with her kids? Was that what had caused Charlotte to be so troubled? Maybe, maybe not. Charlotte's behavior and development would just have to be more closely monitored than the other two.
It took them an extra minute or two to pick out what they couldn't possibly leave behind. That probably had given Miss Newman time to revert to pony form and get in position. Each of the girls decided to settle on a stuffed animal, even Andrea, who was getting to an age where she tried to act more mature than she was. Wendy escorted them back out to the living room.
Miss Newman was back by the window overlooking the station wagon and in her pony form while wearing her saddlebag. She was peeking through the blinds while standing on a box of old magazines, and her horn was brightly lit.
"I need you all to be quiet for a minute or two. I'm working," Miss Newman said.
"How did you get out of your house safely if teleports take this much preparation?" Charles asked in confusion.
Miss Newman turned and glared at him. "I'm not teleporting yet. I'm trying to give our potential pursuers a flat tire so they can't immediately tail us. This has me working at a longer range than I normally do while at the same time trying to stay inconspicuous about it. That takes time and concentration. Now shut up and don't interrupt me."
"Rude!" Kristin declared with a cross of her arms. Wendy silently agreed with her daughter.
The pony ignored them and kept focused on what she was doing. Seconds stretched on till over a minute had passed, then two. Finally, the horn went out, and Miss Newman stopped to pant.
"That...that was harder than I thought it would be, but it's done. The thaumic field is so stiff here," the unicorn said, gasping for breath. "Give me a second to catch my breath before I teleport. After I do, you can go out to the car."
Wendy was actually eager to see the teleport. In all honesty, Miss Newman's magic thus far had been rather dull. Sure, she could telekinetically push things around and grab them, but for all her talk about being skilled and claiming she developed the time-travel spell that brought her here, Miss Newman hadn't had much wow factor. Having a magic-talking horse around should have been more amazing than it currently felt. Teleportation seemed like it should be more impressive.
Miss Newman took one last breath and turned to peek out the window again. "Okay, let's see if I can manage a ten-foot line-of-sight teleport after wearing myself out."
She seemed to focus on the car with her horn still glowing, and two seconds later, she was gone in a flash so fast Wendy questioned whether a flash had even occurred.
"That's our signal to go. Let's hope she's in the car and didn't accidentally teleport to Timbuktu," Charles announced as he picked up the bit cage and ushered them all to the door.
Wendy grabbed the cat carrier with her working arm and took one last look around the place. This might be the last she would see of it, and she'd barely had time to let that fact settle in. Not knowing where they would end up didn't make her feel any better about it. She quickly decided that if she focused too much on it, she would have a breakdown. Her kids needed her to focus. What was the next helpful thing she could have her attention going to? Perhaps, how were they going to eat for the next few days?
She exited the house with her daughters, and Charles waited till last to leave. With the closing of the door, the adventure had begun. She stopped briefly and laughed, which made everyone look at her.
"Sorry," she apologized. "Was just thinking about what we were going to eat tonight, and the thought crossed my mind that adventures make one late for dinner."
Charles shook his head. "Don't know, but I hope we don't have any dragons under mountains waiting for us."
She groaned. "Please, don't jinx us any more than we have been."
Andrea didn't always get along with her sisters. Actually, they fought often. She and Kristin were constantly fighting about who got what and keeping things on the appropriate sides of their room. Charlotte was usually an annoying afterthought to those arguments. At six years old, Andrea's baby sister didn't have much ability to put up a fight beyond screaming and crying. Still, Andrea never let bullies pick on her sisters. She had a responsibility as the eldest to protect them. She could pick at them, big sisters got to do that, but no one else had better think about it.
As they sat in the parking lot, Andrea only partially paid attention to her parents arguing with Miss Newman. Instead of staying in the back like she usually did, Andrea was in the backseat with her sisters, with the pony hiding on the floorboard behind their mother's seat in front of Andrea with a blanket draped over her. She sat and considered her role as the big sister and her duty to protect her little sisters. She looked at Kristin and Charlotte, and, for the first time, thought about the fact they wouldn't be little forever; none of them would. If Andrea were a little younger, maybe she wouldn't be thinking about these things, but she was older, and her family was in danger. She was just a kid, but it was time to be a bigger kid than she had been only the day before.
She watched as Kristin uncharacteristically let Charlotte cuddle up with her. Charlotte was laying her head on Kristin's lap, and Kristin had her arm wrapped around their baby sister. Kristin claimed she was as brave as Andrea, but both of them knew it wasn't true. Kristin had to be as afraid as Charlotte right now. She was just pretending she wasn't. Andrea knew this because she herself was scared, and if she was scared, her chicken sisters had to be terrified.
Her parents and the pony were arguing about where to go. Andrea didn't fully understand it all. They'd been talking about going to Florida before, but that seemed uncertain now—something to do with whoever Miss Newman had been calling before. Something had changed when the person didn't call back and then didn't pick up when called. There was all that fear about a car outside, and it was very confusing. Andrea might be some super-secret agent or whatever in the future, but she wasn't that yet, so she didn't understand what was going on.
However, there were some things that people were just naturally good at. Andrea was good at noticing visual details. Maybe that's why she became a secret agent, or detective, or whatever she did in the future; because she saw things that others missed. She always liked hearing about Sherlock Holmes and tried to imitate him to some extent. That meant trying to notice little things. It took some practice, but she felt she had gotten good at it. Now, she wondered if what she saw earlier during all the commotion was real and, if it was, what she was supposed to do about it.
There was a lull in the adult's argument, which left the car silent. She reached an arm out towards her little sisters. "Hey, Charlotte, can you come over here? You can lay against me. I have a bigger lap than Kristin."
Charlotte lifted her head and wordlessly turned and cuddled up on Andrea's lap. Kristin looked like that hurt her feelings for some reason, and after a quick second thought, Andrea gestured to Kristin to come join them. Kristin hesitated for a second, but Charlotte scooted back against the seat, giving Kristin space, and so Kristin joined them.
The pony took a moment to crawl over to the floorboard behind the driver's seat now that all three girls were bunched up behind her. The blanket glowed and followed along.
"Charles, mind if we step outside a minute and have a conversation in private?" their mom asked their dad.
Their dad looked back at them, weighing whether he felt safe leaving them alone in the car with the unicorn, but ended up nodding. That decided, their parents got out of the car and walked back behind it till they were out of earshot.
Andrea watched Miss Newman's ears perk and twitched, probably straining to listen to what was being said. Andrea wondered if her parents had thought about how big the pony's ears were and how good her hearing must have been. Even though Andrea couldn't hear, the look on Miss Newman's face said that the pony was able to hear, even if she was straining a little to do so.
Her parents were having a long conversation. Every once in and while Andrea was able to pick out some faint bits of sound when her parents got slightly louder, but still couldn't tell what was being said, and quickly stopped trying to listen. Her little sisters were exhausted after two days without much sleep, and so was she, but her mind wouldn't let her drift off to sleep. She was thinking about what would happen next, where they were going to go, wondering if the bat-winged pony was already searching for them, and also about what she had seen in the last minutes before they left the house.
Charlotte started to snore, and Kristin was breathing heavily enough that Andrea knew both were now asleep. The pony gave Charlotte a dirty look but didn't say anything. Andrea guessed the snoring made it harder for the pony to hear.
Confident that it wouldn't wake Charlotte, Andrea carefully pulled Charlotte's shirt partly up to look underneath. She knew Charlotte had a birthmark on her side, but she had never paid it a lot of attention. Charlotte cared about it, sure, thinking it made her ugly or something, but Andrea and Kristin couldn't care less. Everybody had birthmarks somewhere; Andrea had one on her upper back that she could only see with a mirror. However, right now, she wanted to be sure her baby sister's birthmark was what she remembered.
Charlotte didn't stir as Andrea checked the mark out. It was what she remembered, a dark reddish-brown splotch about the size of a dollar bill shaped vaguely like a squashed and lopsided star.
Kristin stirred, and Andrea quickly lowered Charlotte's shirt again before she was caught looking. Neither of her sisters woke up, but Miss Newman had turned her attention to her and no longer seemed interested in listening to the conversation taking place outside. The pony was now hyper-focused on Andrea, and Andrea knew that the pony knew what she was thinking.
Andrea looked the pony in the eyes and swallowed. "Miss Newman, why do you look the way you do when you turn human?"
The pony matched her stare. "It is part of the spell. It tries to match what it thinks I should look like as a human as best it can. It pulls on memories and genetics."
Andrea licked her lips. "I saw you taking your shirt off when I was coming out of the bathroom, and you were going in. I saw your side."
Miss Newman continued to stare unblinking into Andrea's eyes. "I see...and here I was trying to be careful about that." The pony broke her stare and sadly shook her head. "Figures that it would be you who ended up noticing. You've always been more observant than most. You even got your cutie mark in being observant after you became a pony—that's the pictures on our flanks; they say something about a pony's personality, primary interests, or talents. You've got a keen eye."
Andrea briefly looked down at her baby sister sleeping in her lap. "So it's true?"
The unicorn nodded. "Can you do me a favor?"
"What favor?" Andrea asked hesitantly.
"Don't tell your parents or sisters yet."
Andrea blinked. "Why?"
"Because it will only make dealing with them more complicated and doesn't do anything to help fix our current predicament," the pony explained. "We need to be focused entirely on keeping you all safe, and them knowing is only a distraction that can interfere with that. I know you are just a kid, but I need you to be the mature big sister right now, and don't let your parents get distracted from that, okay?"
"They're your parents too," Andrea said and bit her lip.
The pony shook her head. "This is probably too complicated for you to understand, but they stopped being my parents the second those other ponies came back in time and created a different timeline. My parents are back in my time. They're old, really old, and don't have much time left. It is a blessing that they have lived as long as they have, even if I'm emotionally bracing myself each day for one of them to pass in their sleep, and the same goes for my sisters, who aren't spring chickens either. They have a lot of history and experiences that all of you don't and never will. You all are close reflections of my family in their youth, but none of you are them." The pony then pointed at the sleeping six-year-old in Andrea's lap. "And she and I are not the same person. You all have your own paths to follow, and they won't be the ones my family and I did. I am only Miss Newman to you, got it?"
Andrea wasn't sure she understood it all, but she did think the pony had a point about it not being important to keep them safe. "I can keep a secret."
Miss Newman sighed in relief. "Good. I appreciate that."
Andrea chewed on her lip. "Are you a good person, Miss Newman?"
The pony let out a brief laugh. "All we can do is try to be good. Whether we succeed or not is up to God to judge. I've made mistakes, bad ones, but I've always tried my best to be good. That's the best answer I can give you."
Charles' head drooped slightly, and he immediately jerked it back up.
They'd been driving for hours and had just recently passed into Kansas. The route through Kansas was flat and straight, and they could easily cross it in less time than it took to reach Kansas if they kept going. That might not be possible tonight. He was tired, and even though it was a short straight shot, he could still end up swerving off the road and hitting a cow or something.
"Miss Newman, are you awake?" Charles asked.
"Wide awake. It is hard to sleep with this diesel engine stench," Miss Newman replied.
He took a sniff. "It isn't that bad."
"To a human nose, maybe," Miss Newman grumbled. "What do you want?"
"We're coming up at a rest stop soon. I think we can sneak you to the restroom there so you can change back to human. Do you think you can take over driving after that?" Charles asked.
"No, I can't," Miss Newman answered quickly.
He sighed. "Guessing cars in the future don't work the same. They're probably super high-tech self-driving flying things."
"No, the main differences are they are mostly electric and made of plastic with computers regulating much of the engine, but they're driven more or less the same and don't fly. You could easily operate a car from my day and age. Aside from getting used to the GPS map and the rearview camera, it wouldn't be that different for you. The reason I can't drive is that I don't know how to drive a stick shift. This thing is a stick, right?" Miss Newman replied.
"Yeah, it's a stick," Charles answered, bemused. "We might need to stop and let me nap at the rest stop then. Otherwise, I'm going to fall asleep at the wheel. I'd ask Wendy if she could take over for a few hours, but she can't drive stick properly with her right arm out of order."
"How far away is the rest stop?" Miss Newman asked.
"Fifty miles, well, forty-eight now," Charles answered. "I haven't seen that car that was by the house or the black van. Can you tell if anyone is following us?"
"I'm under a blanket on the floor; I can't see crap," Miss Newman answered in a half-snap. "I also already told you that I need to be human to be able to see if the ponies are up above."
"Sorry, I remember that now. I'm just exhausted," Charles said as he shook his head in frustration.
"Are you going to be able to make it the rest of the way to the rest stop?"
"If I keep talking to you. Talking helps keep me awake. I just worry about waking the girls or Wendy."
"You falling asleep at the wheel is worse than accidentally waking them. Let's keep talking."
Charles nodded. "Okay, no need to talk about anything important. I can't focus on important details right now. No philosophy or anything like that either."
"I'm sure we can come up with something," Miss Newman gently said.
"Pony cars are practically the same?" Charles asked, figuring the subject was good as any other and had already been brought up. "It seems like you guys would have a hard time reaching the pedals, no offense."
Miss Newman sighed. "Okay, cars designed for pony drivers have a slightly different driver's setup, but I have never driven one of those and rarely rode in one. I rarely go out in public as a pony since too many people recognize me, so my car is just a standard car built for a human driver. Cars built for human drivers are more or less the same. I have a niece who refurbished a classic nineteen-fifties Corvette with an electronic engine, and she drives around in that. There's apparently a market for refurbishing classic cars like that."
"Would this car be considered a classic?" Charles asked, legitimately curious.
"Not iconic like my niece's car, but certainly a classic," Miss Newman mused. "They don't make smaller station wagons anymore, although I'm unsure why they fell out of style. They seem like an ideal family car to me. Station wagons in my day are all bigger, practically vans. My eldest daughter's bodyguard drives them around in a station wagon. Even though it is one built for ponies, it still seems like it is part tank to me."
Charles was tempted to turn around and look at the pony. "Your eldest daughter has a bodyguard?"
"Most of my immediate family does; hers are just more overt about it. The rest of ours keep out of sight—well, aside from mine. I live in a mansion that is crawling with guards. She's got more guards than me. She's considered more important."
"Didn't you say these bad ponies chasing us stole from you? How did they manage that if the place is swarming with guards?" Charles asked, concerned.
Miss Newman sighed. "My best guess it was basically a suicide mission for them. They didn't expect to get away. They wanted to get in, eliminate their target, and accept that they might go down trying. They found a way in through the sewers and got lucky enough to stumble on my secret workshop. Once they discovered that, they changed their mission. When they go back, they aren't going to get out. The guards are waiting."
"You just have time travel spells sitting around in your workshop?"
She chuckled. "Truth be told, this time travel spell isn't the worst thing they could have used from my workshop; it was merely the most advanced thing they could figure out how to use in the limited time they had. If they had time to read my notes about it fully, they would have known how pointless this endeavor is for them and may have used the spell to go elsewhere. I can think of at least a dozen other places in time they could have gone that would have been better for them. People they could have rescued from imprisonment or death, things they could have stolen from the past, but they decided to go with the stupid and petty option."
"So they could have gone back in time and brought Hitler or something back," Charles asked. "That seems dangerous."
Miss Newman laughed. "I doubt Hitler arriving in the twenty-first century would be dangerous. Everyone is aware of who he is and wouldn't listen to him. No, if I were them, I would have gone for the mage responsible for turning millions into ponies and essentially bring her back from the dead. She is dangerous without needing an army. I may be one of the greatest mages alive, but she was better, maybe the best. I have studied her work. I have figured out some of how it works, but not the finer details of how it all does. I can copy things, but that doesn't tell me why they do what they do. It irritates me, having it all in front of me and still unable to understand all the interactions."
"I thought you said it was a virus that changed everyone," Charles said.
"A virus that was carrying a spell. No normal virus could have done that. We went from human to pony in a matter of weeks. She had been secretly preparing it for over twenty years before releasing it."
"But how was there a mage before there were ponies?" Charles asked, even more confused. "You said we don't interact with...whatever that energy you said was."
He heard Miss Newman sigh again. "She was an alien from another world, trying to make more beings like her. She would have gotten away with it too if not for—"
"Meddling kids?" Charles cut in.
"No," Miss Newman said with a hint of annoyance. "If not for some others from her world coming to search for her and uncovering what she was up to. They stopped the virus before it enveloped every corner of the globe."
"Globes don't have corners."
"You know what I meant," Miss Newman snapped. "Most of us who had already transformed chose to stay that way, although some changed back with those aliens' assistance. It was all a matter of personal choice, and the spell they used depended on you making that choice. I used to look down on those who changed back to humans, but I have revised my view in recent years. Those chasing us most certainly do look down on those that changed back. They have blind faith in pony superiority."
Charles was unsure what to follow that up with. "What changed your mind?"
Miss Newman was quiet for a few seconds. "A lot of tragedy and hurt that I don't want to talk about."
"Fair enough," he said, immediately backing off what was clearly a sore subject, even if it made him more curious. "You know all about my daughters in the future. Do I win the lottery and open a chain of burrito stands?"
"No, but you both remain ponies. A side effect of the pony transformation was that it put you in the best health you could be at for your age, which was pretty enticing for older folks who didn't want a relapse of various health conditions. You continue to do electrician work even as a pony and later teach others how to do it when you get too old to be doing most of that work yourself. The world still needs electricians. Wendy largely retires and takes up gardening. The type of ponies you two change into have special magic that makes them very good with working with plants; if you didn't have a green thumb before, you sure did after. Not me though, I can barely keep a cactus alive."
"We get to fly or levitate objects like you do, right?" Charles asked. "I feel gypped if all I get is I'm better at growing things than I was before."
"Earth ponies are also strong—earth pony is the subtype's name and refers to their connection with the ground and soil. Anyway, even a relatively weak earth pony is still muscle-bound. Your wife in her nineties could probably bench press more than you could right now. You get that strength, and you get the green thumb—no actual thumbs though; no wings or horns."
"Still seems like they get the short straw when it comes to powers," Charles muttered.
"Not necessarily. The most powerful display of magic I ever witnessed came from an earth pony. Pretend all my magic is a jug of water. Heck, let's be bold and say a swimming pool full of water. Hers, by comparison, would have been every ocean put together. That's how small I felt witnessing her magic."
"What did she do that was so impressive?" Charles asked, curious.
"I don't want to talk about it," Miss Newman said in a tired voice. "It's part of that tragedy and hurt I mentioned earlier. It would have been worse without her there, but it was still the worst day of my life."
Charles glanced back briefly, but with her behind his seat, there was no way he could see her. "Is that the day you got that nasty scar?"
"No, I got the scar on another bad day, but it wasn't the worst day. I got the scar in a fight where I was in over my head, but it was a fight I ended up winning. If you think this is bad, you should have seen the other guy."
Charles wondered if she was in over her head with the current situation and if any of them would be walking away with scars like that or worse.
He decided not to focus on that. "Are you sure you know the way to this other place you think we can be safe? Sixty years difference might change some things."
"If you can get us to South Carolina, I can get us the rest of the way. When I first set foot in the town, it hadn't had a new building or road built since the sixties. It will be more or less as I remember it being. They're good people there and will be happy to see visitors."
"Why this town in particular?" he asked.
"It was the town I was mayor of. They won't know me, but I know the geography of the place well, and I know we'll find someone to help us. We just have to hide out a week, and then we're good. Given two days of drive there and two days back, we should only need to spend a single night. They won't be able to find us before their time runs out. The plan is simple but effective, and you don't even need to rush to move."
Charles hoped it would be that easy. He'd call his boss and the kid's school as soon as he found a payphone in the morning to let him know they had to attend a funeral and they'd be back in a week. He didn't see where there could be communications, but he'd keep his fingers crossed.
Five miles behind the station wagon, a black van briefly opened its back door while driving down the road. A dark shape moved through the air and entered.
"They're still ahead of us. I'd bet my right wing that she is with them, and they're running for Riverview. We take them out there. Keep on this heading, and keep out of sight."
The rest stop wasn't very active. There were only a few cars, and most of those had people sleeping in them. Everyone from their vehicle was taking a few minutes to walk around, go to the restroom, and grab some snacks. Then back in the car for a quick nap.
The elder Charlotte pulled a pack of beef jerky from the vending machine and pulled at the package to try to open it. Wendy stared at her, puzzled.
"I thought you didn't eat meat," the younger version of her mother said accusingly as she watched her get the package open and pull out a piece.
"Correction, I said it doesn't always agree with my stomach," Charlotte replied, exasperated by all the questions her younger family constantly bombarded her with. "The early part of my digestive system when I'm not wearing this necklace can't handle it, but I expect I'm going to go at least the next twelve to fourteen hours with it on. That gives me more than enough time to complete the problematic parts of digestion, and I need the calories."
The younger woman was clearly not satisfied. "You don't have some herbivore objection to it?"
Charlotte raised an eyebrow. "Herbivore objection? No, I don't. I don't eat meat as a pony because I can't digest it. I don't have any moral objection to it. I'm not even strictly an herbivore; I eat eggs, and other ponies have been known to eat bugs—which is something that I can't personally stomach because I get queasy just thinking about It. Eww! And don't even get me started on my daughter's baked tarantulas! Some things are not meant to be baked!"
"What about—"
Charlotte cut her off, irritation getting the better of her. "I know you're tired. You should finish getting your snacks, finish stretching your legs, and go back to the car to sleep. I know you have understandable curiosity about the future and ponies, but I need a break from your questioning. Do you recall dealing with incessant questions from four-year-olds? I don't mean to be rude, but that is what the five of you questioning me feels like. Actually, I should exclude Charlotte from that; she has been rather quiet throughout this. You should probably check on her. Take it from a great-grandmother; a child being quiet isn't necessarily a good thing."
Wendy put on a defensive look. "We aren't that bad, and I think we can be excused for asking questions since it's the future, and in this case, about something that impacts my daughter's safety."
"I will tell you more tomorrow. We have plenty of miles in the car where all we have to do for entertainment is talk. Right now, I need me-time. Please, take your leave."
Wendy grumbled to herself and stormed off towards the car while clumsily trying to pull a cigarette from her purse with her good arm.
It felt like dealing with a petulant child. She hated thinking of her parents that way, but many of these questions were ones that school-aged kids at home knew. The fact they were young enough to be her kids only reinforced the idea they were childlike. However, Wendy was right, they should be forgiven their ignorance and curiosity, and she would probably be just as inquisitive in their place, even more so. It didn't help much in assuaging her irritation, but she could keep her temper from boiling over due to something like this.
She re-reminded herself that this Wendy and Charles were not her parents. Thinking of them as Wendy and Charles instead of their pony names, Dry Soil and Hook Line, helped differentiate them more. Still, it was unnerving at times, dealing with these young reflections of her parents. It was even more unnerving coping with the actual children. Even seeing them as human children, she still expected Amicus Curiae… Kristin to start adjusting her glasses—which this child didn't have or need yet— and then pontificate at length about how much legal liability she was facing due to her behavior and potentially illegal magic usage. Andrea, she half-expected to start cussing her out at any moment and telling her how being closely related to a mage who pulled crap like this had consistently derailed Andrea's career with the FBI because being sister to such a nefarious mage was too much of a security risk to give more than low-level security clearance, something Andrea always threw in her face when angry.
Andrea's potential tirade paled in comparison to what Charlotte's daughters would likely have to say. Phobia always gave her that look of sad disappointment, and Lántiān had flat out smacked her more than once for her foolishness. She'd rather deal with Andrea's cussing and screaming for a week straight than have to face either of her daughters for an hour. It was degrading having her own daughters treating her like a child in need of a good spanking. At least her sons didn't do that.
There was going to be a lot of yelling when she returned home. All her friends and family were going to be furious that she had taken off on her own. It was one of her many weaknesses that she would charge in without thinking when her family was in danger. These humans were a divergent reflection of her family, not the real one, but try as she might, and much as she insisted it to them, she still saw her family. She hoped this human-child version of Andrea could keep her mouth shut for at least a little while. The elder Charlotte did not want to deal with the confused family dynamic. The longer it was a secret, the better.
Oh well, dealing with pissed-off relatives was a problem for another day. Aside from the failed attempt to burn her alive, this trip wasn't that dangerous. Her last such undertaking, when she had tried to rescue her adopted granddaughter from the same group, had been much worse. A case of arson hardly compared to being tortured for hours on end. She had also been dealing with far more people and on their home turf before. This time around, there were three confirmed ponies and an unconfirmed number of humans, and they had no home-field advantage. She wasn't a gambler, but she liked those odds. She was the fifth-greatest unicorn mage alive and probably eighth or ninth among all mages—it was hard to be better than an alicorn. Still, she was pretty confident she was more skilled than the Crystal Empire's two princesses, although laughably outmatched in power. She had the skill and determination to beat a few loser fanatics.
She watched Wendy puffing away at her cigarette a short distance from the car. Charlotte had dropped hints that she needed to stop; maybe she needed to be more direct and flat out say Hey, people always say you can get cancer from smoking those things, but I know for a fact you do. You got lucky, and turning into a pony saved you on what should have been your deathbed. You might not get lucky this time. She didn't want Wendy or the family to have to deal with that again. Unfortunately, those earlier hints would be a dead giveaway about Charlotte's identity if she came out directly about what would happen. Perhaps she could reveal the truth right before she left, when there was no opportunity remaining to deal with the awkwardness.
You can be so reckless yet still somehow manage to be a coward. She mentally scolded herself. A mass of contradictions and hypocrisy, that was what she was. The most human pony was one of her many titles, and sometimes that title was used as a compliment and other times a curse, but no matter how it was interpreted, it was accurate. Ponies were supposed to know who they were; that was what a cutie mark was all about. Technically, she did know, even if her mark meant something else entirely. What she was was the most brilliant idiot in the world.
She continued to munch on her food and walked away. She wasn't planning on going to sleep anytime soon, and she wasn't going to spend her entire time cramped up in the car. Her saddlebag's straps were adjustable in a way that let her convert it into an impromptu backpack—not perfectly, but enough to function as one. That meant she didn't have to worry about any of the kids or the adults, for that matter, getting into her stuff. The tablet password would have probably kept them from accessing files on it, and if they broke it trying to use it, it wouldn't be the end of the world. Her anchor crystal was the more significant concern. If they broke that, she'd be sent straight back home with no way back. Even if she could somehow figure out a spell to do so, improbable as that was, it would be near impossible to make another crystal that would line up with this timeline since it had to be made from the same mooring crystal back home. It was best to keep it on her at all times.
There wasn't much to look at; it was Kansas. It was a big stretch of flat plains, cows, farms, and telephone poles, interrupted by the occasional building or tree. In her own time, ponies had migrated to this region en masse to build farming communities. She'd never understood the draw of farming and rural life, maybe because she was a unicorn, but that excuse was weak. The truth was she was greedy, and the thought of giving up all the things human civilization had achieved for fields of wheat was unacceptable to her. She never willingly gave up an asset, even if she never intended to make use of it.
Greedy, arrogant, egotistical, dishonest, quick to anger, reckless, vengeful, manipulative, not to mention envious, those faults and more all described her. Those traits did not add up to a good person, but her talent and mark meant that she was capable of making more from the sum of what she had been given. One plus one equals two, except for when she was involved. Those traits should not add up to a good person, but she tried her damndest to make herself more than the sum of her parts.
Her breath caught when she suddenly saw a familiar black van parked on the path leading into the rest stop. She stared at it for a solid minute. One, two, three, four thaumic disturbances could be discerned. One was their anchor crystal, another she recognized as the disturbances an earth pony made, another a pegasus, and finally a unicorn, all hidden inside the van, but not from her human magic. She could make out two humans in the front, but neither was causing any thaumic disturbance, so they weren't magic-users; they might not even be from her time.
Where was their nocturnal compatriot?
She turned her attention to the sky, and it didn't take long to find the mare circling the rest stop in the air, utterly confident that she would remain hidden on what was a cloudy night. Charlotte immediately averted her gaze. It was best the mare believed she was unnoticed. If the mare thought she had been discovered, there was no telling what they'd do. Right now, the fanatics were sitting and letting the mare keep watch over their prey. The most likely plan was for them to wait until they were confident everyone in the car was asleep, then make their move, or, failing that, continue to follow as they stalked their intended victim to a better place to commence an attack.
Seemingly calmly turning around, she started back towards the car, making sure not to show any of the urgency that she was feeling. Moving too quickly would alert them that they had definitely been noticed. There was a possibility they already realized it, but she couldn't risk taking an action that would alert them if that was not the case.
The kids were still walking around the car when she got back to it, along with their father; only Wendy had retaken her seat.
"I know you're tired, Charles, but I think we need to cut this stop short," she said calmly, even smiling. "You have that thing I told you to keep close by where you can reach it, right?"
"I need rest," Charles protested, failing to take her hint.
She looked at the kids. "Into the car, children. We're getting ready to go. It might get bumpy because if your dad isn't going to drive, I'll need your mom to do it. Oh, and sorry for this, I'm going to need to strip and don't have time to head to the restroom."
Wendy became the first human to realize what was going on. "What's wrong? Are they here?"
Charlotte nodded, still smiling. "Pretend to be calm," she quietly said. "Act like you are in no hurry, don't look up, and keep your voices down. If you get too loud, she'll hear you. She's up above us, and the van is at the entrance to the stop. If we rest here, Charlotte might not wake up. Charles, either get ready to drive or help your wife do it. We need to go, now."
They all started to look up.
"I said don't look up," she snapped while still trying to behave casually, no easy feat. It made all their eyes snap to her.
"What will you be doing?" Wendy asked fearfully.
"I'm going to see if I can ground their eyes in the sky."
Andrea had found herself in many weird situations in her short life; a significant number of those had come in the last few days. That total was once again being added to.
They were all in the car, and Charlotte was sitting on Andrea's lap while Kristin was pressed up against her as closely as she could go. This was twice now in as many hours that her sisters had been this close to her with no hair pulling or blows being exchanged. Their parents should have been thrilled at this good behavior, but Andrea wasn't sure if they were even paying attention.
However, her and her sisters' good behavior and uncommon closeness were not what made the situation weird. What was strange was they were in the car with their dad speeding like crazy—over Miss Newman's objections. At the same time, Miss Newman was in the process of stripping off her clothes in the backseat—over her parents' objections. Andrea knew speeding was illegal, and she was pretty sure stripping in the backseat of a car in front of a bunch of kids was too. Which was worse, she wasn't sure. She just knew it was all bad.
What was definitely worse was the fact that the monster pony was following them, and a bunch of bad guys in a van were probably not far behind.
"Stop taking your clothes off in front of my daughters, you pervert!" their mom screamed.
"Forgive me if trying to save your asses offends your human sensibilities!" Miss Newman screamed back. "And slow down! Do you want to get the popos involved in this too!"
"Who refers to the police as popos?" their dad asked. Their dad said weird things when he was afraid. At least he wasn't making bad dad jokes.
"Just slow the damn car down!" Miss Newman hollered back. "You're going to get us pulled over, and it is also going to make what I'm trying to do that much harder."
"What are you trying to do?" their dad asked. The car did seem to slow down some.
"I already told you. I'm going to ground that mare. I doubt I can kill her, but I can seriously injure her and keep her out of the air for the rest of this week."
Charlotte suddenly gasped and pointed. "Look, Mommy! The old lady pony has a spot just like mine!"
Andrea felt a wave of relief. She didn't have to keep it secret; Charlotte had just blabbed it out.
"Adults are talking, Charlotte; please be quiet for a few minutes," their mom replied.
What??! She wasn't even going to pay attention to what Charlotte said? It wasn't fair! Andrea already knew that her baby sister would forget to bring it up again. Out of sight and out of mind was kind of the rule with anything other than toys and cartoons with Charlotte.
Miss Newman apparently wasn't taking the chance since she hurriedly took the necklace off before finishing taking the rest of her clothes off, leaving her tangled in them.
The unicorn struggled with both the bra now loosely wrapped around her middle while trying to untangle her back legs from her panties. "Ack! Bras are the devil's torture devices! Get off, you infernal thing!"
"Well, at least you didn't finish stripping in front of my girls!" their mom jeered.
Miss Newman's face suddenly took on a green hue. How that was possible when she was covered with fur, Andrea didn't know. The pony stopped struggling with her undergarments and puked all over the seat.
"Ewww!" all three girls said in chorus.
"The old lady pony is sick, Mommy!" Charlotte exclaimed, recoiling even closer to Andrea. Even Kristin tried to jump into Andrea's lap.
"You didn't say you were sick. Are you going to make my girls sick? Are they going to turn into ponies?! You said it happened because of a virus!" their dad yelled, and the car swerved slightly.
"N-no...its—" Miss Newman vomited up even more disgusting bile on the seat. "I was eating...meat."
"Why would you do that if it was going to make you sick??" their dad demanded.
Miss Newman panted and wiped her mouth with the back of her leg. "I thought I was going to be in human form much longer. Give me a minute. I'll be okay."
"It smells bad, and it's in my seat!!" Kristin exclaimed.
Miss Newman sniffed and cringed. "Definitely smells awful. I need a bath, but we're all just going to have to accept the smell for a while."
"I don't want to sit in that seat anymore!" Kristin continued to protest.
"SHUT UP WITH YOUR WHINING, AMI!" the pony shouted as she flattened her ears against her head.
"Don't raise your voice at my daughter!" their mother yelled.
Kristin cowered against Andrea, whimpering. "My name isn't Ami."
"Is that like a pony cuss word?" Andrea got the bravery to ask; it would be cool to learn a pony cuss word.
Andrea wasn't sure how she could tell, but Miss Newman's body shifted from angry to embarrassed. "No, it's not. It's...just be quiet for right now, please."
"Are you going to do something about that pony or not?" their dad demanded.
"Yes, I am. I don't need to rush. She isn't doing anything other than watching us right now. I need time and focus to do what I'm going to do, and it will leave me winded. On the plus side, I don't need to worry about hiding anything. She won't know what hit her, and it isn't going to cause any flashes or anything to draw attention. It's probably best to put some distance between us and the rest stop before I nail her anyway—fewer people to see a pony falling out of the sky, which would cause us almost as much trouble as it causes them. Let me finish catching my breath, and I'll deal with her."
"You don't want them getting caught? Why?" their mom asked.
Miss Newman shook her head. "They'd immediately rat you out as who they were targeting. What do you think the men in black suits will do when they find out your family specifically was being targeted? What happens when they find out you were in close contact with me? They'll never leave you alone again if they don't just lock you up in some facility instead. Getting caught is an inconvenience to them and me since the spell will rip us home in less than a week anyway. However, any of us getting caught will ruin your lives."
Their parents hesitated before their mom answered. "They wouldn't do that. We're US citizens."
Miss Newman laughed like their mom told the most hilarious joke ever. Andrea was now cringing in her seat as well. She didn't want to get locked up.
The pony stopped laughing but was still smiling. "Let me focus, children."
Miss Newman stared upwards behind the car, even though there was no way she could properly see out a window from that angle. Her horn was glowing, but nothing seemed to be happening. However, she suddenly dropped and started choking again. A little bit of bile dribbled out of her mouth.
"I think you shouldn't eat meat. It's bad for you," Charlotte told the unicorn.
"How observant," Miss Newman muttered. She hacked one more time and went back to what she was doing.
They all kept silent for a minute, waiting for something, anything to happen. When out of nowhere, the unicorn's horn flared. The pony then immediately collapsed like she passed out straight into her pool of vomit. A second later, a feminine scream rang out in the night before something crashed into the fields of corn a short distance behind them. Did both the ponies just die?
"Miss Newman? Miss Newman?!" their mom said frantically. "Andrea, do me a favor. Check to see if she's breathing!"
That required her pushing her sisters off of her, neither of which were happy about it. Andrea inched across the seat and looked closely at the pony. She didn't want to touch, just in case the pony was dead. Touching a dead body was bad.
It took her a few seconds in the dark to be sure, but the pony was breathing. "She's alive, Mom. I think she passed out."
"She smells really bad," Kristin said, waving a hand in front of her face.
"Cover her up with the blanket as best you can," their mom instructed.
Their dad stiffened in his seat, eyes in the rearview mirror. "Hun, that van that tried to run you down just came from way behind us and is pulling off the road."
"We all heard the scream. They're probably looking for the flying pony," their mom said, glancing back. "What the heck did she do, and why'd it knock her out too?"
"I don't know. The only magic I know is card tricks and pulling quarters from behind ears. I don't know how hers works," their dad replied. "Do you think she killed that other pony? That had to be a big fall."
"I don't know," their mom said in frustration, echoing their dad. "What do we do now?"
Their dad shook his head. "When the adrenaline wears off, I'm going to need to rest. Maybe we need to pull into the next town and find a hotel for the night."
"That van isn't far behind us, and they'll probably be doing the same thing," their mom countered.
As her parents continued to argue back and forth about what to do, Andrea went about trying to cover Miss Newman up. Kristin ended up helping, maybe hoping that it would cover the smell of vomit faster, but Andrea wasn't sure that would work. What had caused the pony to pass out? Was she that sick from eating meat?
She worked on getting the blanket over the pony, and Kristin worked on smoothing it out where it draped over the seat. Once it was in place, Kristin started gathering up Miss Newman's clothes that had been discarded around the backseat haphazardly. Andrea's little sister paused as she picked up Miss Newman's necklace, and Andrea could see the gears working in Kristin's stupid little head.
"Don't do it," Andrea warned as she watched her sister. Kristin gave her a defiant look and then immediately started moving to put it in. Andrea jumped to stop her. "Mom! Tell Kristin to stop!"
Their mom turned to try to see what was going on, but it was too late. The necklace went around Kristin's neck, and the next second, there was a bundle of squirming clothes crying and screaming in panic.
Of all the chaotic things that had occurred, this had to top it all off for Wendy. Kristin was lying in her lap, asleep, and Kristin was a tiny miniature horse with yellow fur and a bright neon green mane and tail.
Wendy kept her usable hand protectively over her sleeping daughter as they sat waiting for her husband to return from the motel's desk. Miss Newman's necklace was still around her daughter's neck. There had been some debate about removing it, but with Miss Newman still out cold, they didn't know if it would somehow do harm. All they could do was wait for the unicorn to finally wake up and tell them how to deal with this.
Kristin had initially panicked, as had they all after the girl had put the necklace on, but after they managed to get her untangled from her clothes, she had calmed down quickly. That had unnerved Wendy and Charles both— that their daughter didn't seem particularly upset that she was furry and had four legs. It seemed unnatural to be so calm about it, but Kristin seemed perfectly okay, as well as still in command of the power of speech and all her memories.
The next problem had been Charlotte and Andrea trying to insist that they wanted their turn too. That had, of course, been shot down immediately. That they even had to have that conversation was ridiculous. Thankfully all three girls were exhausted and passed out soon after. Also, thankfully, the additional scare of having their daughter turn into a pony had been enough to give Charles the energy to finish the drive across the border and all the way to Kansas City.
Charles returned to the car. "We have a room for the rest of the night and tomorrow night...or is it tonight? It's like two in the morning."
"It's three, actually," Wendy replied. "Can we afford to stay here two nights?"
"Three in the morning," Charles muttered, and he started the car to drive to their room. "We need time to recover, and we need that pain in the ass in the back seat to be awake and helping us. Speaking of which, has pain in the ass stirred at all?"
Wendy shook her head. "Still passed out in her puke. I don't think it is because she's sick. Whatever she did to that other pony exhausted her too much."
"Well, hopefully, that means she'll wake up in the morning refreshed and ready to safely fix Kristin," Charles said as he pulled the car into a parking spot near the back of the motel. "Here's our room."
"You know you're going to have to carry Miss Newman inside. We can't leave her out here. It's too risky," Wendy said, knowing that she couldn't really help. She could carry Kristin, but Kristin was tiny and featherweight at the moment, and she could be carried with one arm.
Charles looked back at the pony. "Maybe Andrea can help me. We need to wake them up anyway." He reached around and gave Andrea and Charlotte a shake. "Girls, wake up. We have beds to sleep in."
The two of them groggily stirred and wiped the sleep from their eyes. Charlotte looked around, and her eyes fell on the blanket covering Miss Newman. The small child then crawled over and shook it.
"Old lady pony, you need to wake up!" Charlotte called as she jostled the pony.
"I don't think that's going to work, baby," Wendy said as she carefully unbuckled her seat belt.
Charlotte was undeterred. The girl lifted the blanket and grabbed the unicorn's horn, and began using it as a handle to shake Miss Newman's head. "Wake up!"
This got a reaction where all other attempts to wake the pony had failed. The unicorn made a bunch of grunts and then gasped, jerking away from Charlotte. "Horn! Touch! Bad touch!" She jumped to her hooves, standing on two legs briefly, and then went tumbling backward off the seat. "Ow!"
"The old lady pony is awake!" Charlotte announced happily.
"Errrmmmm," Miss Newman hissed. "Where am I? Why does it stink so much?"
Wendy immediately focused on what was important as Kristin woke up and looked around with bleary eyes. "You need to fix my daughter right now!"
Miss Newman groaned again as she tried to get off her back. "Much as I might want to break Charlotte right now, she's very much intact. Don't go grabbing a unicorn's horn! It's sensitive! It's an organ filled with nerve endings, not all bone! Ow! My head is killing me! Does anyone have some aspirin?"
"I'm talking about Kristin! She turned into a pony!" Wendy growled.
The old pony went silent and, after a few seconds of shuffling, stuck her head between the two front seats to gape at the much smaller pony on Wendy's lap. "Why is Amicus wearing my necklace?!"
Kristin snorted. "My name's Kristin, not Amicus!"
Miss Newman shook her head and winced. "How long has she been wearing it?"
"About four hours— we're in Kansas City," Wendy explained in a hurry.
"Still have plenty of time then. Damage that was done isn't going to be able to be undone," Miss Newman grumbled. The pony looked around. "Are we stopping for the night?"
"We all need rest," Charles answered. "I skipped Topeka and all the other stops on the way here. I also found a hotel well away from the freeway. I figured it would be like looking for a needle in a haystack for them to find us in just a day or two."
The unicorn laid her on the seat. "That should be fine. They can't search as well anymore. Let's get inside the room, and we'll deal with Am… sorry… we'll deal with Kristin then. Several more minutes as a pony isn't going to make anything worse. She's going to be naked, so you'll want to take that necklace off in the bathroom anyway."
"What do you mean by damage that was done??" Wendy demanded. "Is Kristin going to get sick or hurt?"
"I'll discuss some of that with you after we're in the room. Get a move on," Miss Newman instructed. She then sniffed herself and jerked her head back. "God, I reek. I'm taking a shower before I go back to sleep."
Wendy wanted to argue, but she instead moved to scoop Kristin up, only to have her daughter shove the arm away.
"I can walk," Kristin informed her
"Let her walk," Miss Newman instructed. "You don't want to deal with a squirming earth pony. You could end up with both arms unusable. She might be small, but she's a lot stronger than she looks or comprehends, and her magic could surge if she's emotional, making her temporarily even stronger. My niece accidentally cracked her father's ribs when she was less than a week old during a surge. Unless you're a masochist or have a reinforced steel cage, don't try to restrain an earth pony who doesn't want to be restrained."
"Sounds like having a baby when you're a pony is dangerous," Charles commented.
Miss Newman shrugged. "If you don't know what to expect. It could have been worse. Dealing with earth pony foals is easy compared to some other tribes. God help me if Andrea had put the necklace on. She might have killed me in my current state or damaged the spell in the necklace. I'm not even sure what damaging the spell while she was wearing it would do to her— nothing good. Anyway, let Kristin walk if no one is around, and let's go in the room."
Wendy opened the door. Kristin hopped out and paced about while waiting for Wendy to come out. The kid seemed as adept at walking on four legs as if she had been doing it her whole life. Wendy frowned, not liking that her daughter moved around with such ease in a body that she had to business being in.
"Keep close to your mother, Kristin. That way, if someone sees you at a distance, they might think you're a dog or cat," Miss Newman instructed as she fumbled with the door handle with her hooves. "Can someone help me with this?"
"Can't you use your horn?" Wendy asked as she got out of the car.
Charles opened the door for the pony, and Miss Newman climbed out with much muttering. "It's on the fritz for the time being. A bad side effect of what I did to our pursuer."
"What exactly did you do?" Charles asked.
"I honestly didn't expect it to hit me so hard, but I've only used it once before to judge the baseline, and that was on a much more powerful foe. It involves sabotaging their magic by inserting runes into the gaps of their sloppily put together active or passive spell matrices in a way that violently brings down the whole matrix by making it both non-viable and highly volatile. It hits with a wave of feedback through the thaumic convergence causing the same thing to happen within my thaumic core when it all collapses. Guess it doesn't matter how powerful or weak the target is; it's still going to leave me flat on my ass, completely magically exhausted— good to know. That makes this a learning experience."
"Huh?" Charles asked dumbly.
"To explain it in terms you might understand, that pony was a poorly insulated electric outlet, and I jammed a wet metal fork in her and held on. Does that make more sense?" Miss Newman asked in a cross voice.
"That's all kinds of stupid," Charles said dryly.
"Whatever works," Miss Newman groaned as she stretched outside the car. "Can you grab my saddlebag? I should keep my anchor crystal close. I would also like to do some reading from my Bible tonight."
Charles unlocked the door to the motel room. Despite being instructed to keep close to Wendy, Kristin immediately bolted for the door, right past her father's feet, and into the room.
"Eww! It smells bad in here!" Kristin shouted from within.
Andrea and Charlotte quickly ran to get in the room as if there was some desperate need to confirm that the motel room smelled terrible. Charles stepped aside to let them through, and when he did, Miss Newman took the opportunity to hurry into the room.
"Sure, leave the crippled woman to bring in the luggage," Wendy complained as she slammed her car door shut.
Charles walked over to her and rubbed her back. "I'll grab the clothes for Kristin and Miss Newman, along with Miss Newman's bag. You head inside, deal with the girls, and try to figure out if the beds are sanitary enough to sleep on."
"I'm getting that necklace off Kristin first and finding out what else it did to her. You heard Miss Newman, there's going to be side effects or something," Wendy asserted worriedly. She leaned into him. "Why'd she do something so reckless and stupid as put on that necklace? What are we going to do?"
Charles pulled her into a gentle hug. "For the first answer, she's a kid. Kids do stupid things without thinking. As for the second answer, I don't know, but we'll figure it out. Maybe it won't be too bad. Miss Newman didn't seem to be panicking or anything."
"That could just mean she's a psychopath," Wendy muttered. "Why is she even here? I know to try to help us, supposedly, but why her?"
"She said it was her spell that got those other ponies here," Charles reminded.
Wendy threw up her good hand in exasperation. "And who has something like that laying around?! It has to be illegal. And she knows spells meant specifically for crippling other ponies? Why?"
"Time travel isn't technically illegal, but I'm sure they'll make a law about it as soon as they find out I know how. It wouldn't be the first time they made a law in response to my actions."
They turned and saw Miss Newman, still in pony form, standing in the motel room doorway.
"Something you should know about ponies, we have exceptional hearing," Miss Newman said gravely. "I heard the whole thing, and I'm not even upset about your suspicions. However, I'm not the one you need to be concerned about. There's a little filly crying in the bathroom because she overheard you saying some things about her. I think you need to attend to her. Oh, and once you have her calmed down, you can take the necklace off her. Wait until then. Believe me; you don't want her bucking you."
The unicorn then calmly walked back into the darkness of the room.
Chapter 20: The Long-Term Consequences of Wearing Strange Necklaces
Wendy stepped into the bathroom and found Kristin curled up in the tub. She wasn't crying, but there were tear stains on her face, and her eyes were squeezed shut.
"Hey, baby," Wendy said softly as she sat down next to the tub. She reached out a hand. "Let me take that neck—"
"No!" Kristin snapped as she rolled out of reach.
Wendy sighed and withdrew her hand. "So… you heard your father and me talking. I'm not angry at you. I'm just scared. You understand that, don't you, baby girl?"
"I'm not a baby. Charlotte's the baby. Right now, I'm a filly," Kristin said, turning her back to Wendy.
Wendy frowned. "Is that the way you think of yourself? A filly? Or is that just the word you heard Miss Newman use?"
"I didn't hear Miss Newman say that."
That was concerning. Did this do something to Kristin's mind?
Charles walked in and sat two piles of clothes down on the sink, one for Kristin and one for Miss Newman. He looked at Kristin, then looked at Wendy. "I tucked the other two in. Do you need me for anything?"
Wendy shook her head. "I've got this. You need your sleep before you fall over. I at least napped in the car. You can talk to Kristin in the morning."
Charles nodded, then looked at Kristin again. "Love you. Hope you feel better."
"Love you, Dad," Kristin half-grumbled, not looking at either of them.
"Kristin, why'd you put the necklace on?" Wendy asked as she turned her attention back to her daughter.
Kristin sniffled. "I don't know. I just did. It's a magic pony necklace. I wanted to try it."
"Well, you've tried it. I think you should take it off now."
"I wanna keep it on...just a few more minutes, and I'll take it off...please?"
Wendy wanted to snap but restrained the urge. "Why do you want to keep it on?"
"I don't know," Kristin half-whispered, half-sobbed.
"I'm sorry, but I need a better answer than that," Wendy stressed, worry growing.
Kristin jumped to her feet...hooves and glared up defiantly. She lifted a leg and pointed past Wendy. "Andrea is the brave one, who is going to be a secret agent or something, and this whole thing is about Charlotte! Little Charlotte and old Charlotte! I want to be special too! Can't I be special for a few more minutes, please?"
Wendy chewed on her lip, wanting to embrace her daughter but well aware of the warnings. "Kristin, you are special. Your father and I both love you so much, and so do your sisters. You don't have to be as brave as Andrea, and we don't even know what Charlotte ends up doing. You're special in your own way. You're the one I count on to keep a level head. That's good for you, and your sisters need you for that too."
Kristin turned around and sat down. "Charlotte gets to time travel. She's more special than me."
"Um...no, we don't know that, and from what I understand, that's Miss Newman's spell, not Charlotte's. You don't need to worry about what Charlotte or Andrea do in the future. You'll do amazing stuff too."
Kristin turned around. "Nuh-uh, it's Charlotte that time-travels. Miss Newman is old future Charlotte. Charlotte time-travels, and I get to be a boring lawyer."
"Miss Newman isn't Charlotte, sweetie. I think you're confused."
Kristin stomped her hoof, and the bottom of the tub cracked. "It is her! Our Charlotte saw! They've got the same birthmark! She told you! Didn't you listen?"
Miss Newman did say to listen to her kids. She didn't recall Charlotte saying anything, but it had been hectic on and off.
Wendy turned and looked back at the room. "Miss Newman!" she called out.
"You're both very loud. Try to keep it down. You'll wake the others," Miss Newman called back in a harsh whisper that managed to carry. "Yes, I'm listening, and we can discuss it later. Deal with one thing at a time." The pony then walked out of the shadows and shoved the bathroom door gently closed.
"I don't think she wants to talk about it," Kristin observed.
Wendy was staring at the door, dumbstruck at this newest revelation. "Holy fuck!"
"Mom! You aren't supposed to say bad words!" Kristin objected, flattening her ears against her head.
Miss Newman was Charlotte? Why? How? Why hadn't the older woman said something? There had been clues, now that Wendy thought about it. Cinnamon liked Miss Newman, and the only person Cinnamon liked was Charlotte. There had been that odd discussion about Charlotte's toys and a few other things that Miss Newman had known that Wendy was sure she never mentioned to the older woman. The fact she was so well acquainted with everyone in the family in the future should have been a dead giveaway.
"See! I'm a filly, and you're still paying more attention to Charlotte!" Kristin screeched.
Wendy winced. Did turning into a pony give Kristin the ability to hit higher decibels? It felt like it. Kristin wasn't wrong. One thing at a time to deal with. She'd deal with this pony, then deal with the other.
Wendy sighed. "You're right, sweetie. I need to be focused on you right now. I need you to be calm. Look down. See what you did to the tub? I know you, and I know you don't like to break things. You're usually the most careful one of you three with your things."
Kristin did look down and noticed for the first time the cracks she had put in the tub. A look of horror crossed her face, and she jerked her head up and started crying even more.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to!" Kristin sobbed.
"I know, sweetie. It's okay...well...it's not okay, but we're going to pretend it didn't happen, just this one time," Wendy said soothingly. "When this is all over, we're going to have a day just for you. We'll have cake and ice cream, and watch whatever you want to watch on TV."
Kristin's ears lifted. "Like a birthday party?"
"Like a birthday party," Wendy confirmed.
"And Andrea and Charlotte have to do what I want?" Kristin asked.
Wendy took a deep breath. "You still need to be nice to them, but you'll be the one picking the activities. You want them to be nice to you when they have special days, right?"
"I guess so," Kristin pouted.
"Good," Wendy said with relief. "Now, I know you're tired. Can you please take the necklace off? I know turning into a pony seems like it might have been fun, but I don't think you can even reach the top of the bed in your current state. You don't want to end up sleeping on the floor, do you?"
"No…," Kristin said with reluctance. She then sat down and used her forelegs to pull the necklace off.
The change was almost instantaneous, and the little girl almost lost her balance while still sitting as her form shifted back to normal, but Wendy was fast and was able to grab her before she fell over. She quickly removed the necklace from her daughter's hands and set it aside. She then started inspecting Kristin to make sure she wasn't hurt.
That lasted about ten seconds before the protests began. "Mom! I'm fine! Can I have my clothes?"
Wendy let go of her daughter but continued looking her over for abnormalities. "Are you sure you aren't feeling sick or sore? Nothing at all?"
"Just tired," Kristin asserted. "Can I have my clothes?"
Wendy kept checking. "Are you really sure?" she asked again.
"You aren't going to find anything wrong with the child. Let her get dressed so I can reclaim my necklace and get dressed as well!" Miss Newman fussed from the other side of the door.
"She's rude!" Kristin stated.
Miss Newman snorted loud enough to be heard through the door. "I'll refrain from saying how some little girl needs to keep her grubby little hands off things that don't belong to her. You've no idea what kinds of consequences will result from this."
Wendy balled up her fist. The pony had better give a thorough explanation.
She handed Kristin the proper pile of clothes. "Get dressed quickly, and I'll tuck you in. I'm going to make sure you're okay. Tell me right away if anything seems or feels wrong, okay?"
"Okay," Kristin answered and began dressing.
After Kristin finished dressing, Wendy opened the bathroom door. Miss Newman was waiting, and despite her heated words, her body language indicated she was worried. That sent a chill down Wendy's spine. She could be misinterpreting the pony's body language, but she didn't think so. The pony waited for them to exit then hurried into the bathroom.
She brought Kristin over to the bed where Charles was lying, already passed out. "Hop on up, and try not to wake your father. You'll be sleeping with us tonight."
Kristin did as instructed, getting as close to the middle of the bed as she could without waking her father, but still giving room for her mother. Wendy adjusted the blankets as best she could with one arm and kissed Kristin's forehead.
"Aren't you going to lay down, Mom?" Kristin asked as Wendy stood up.
"In a little while, sweetie. I need to speak with Miss Newman," Wendy answered.
"With old Charlotte," Kristin reminded her.
Wendy looked at the bathroom door. She could hear the shower running within. Was that really Charlotte, or were the kids letting their imagination run away with them? She couldn't bring herself to think of the older woman as an aged-up version of her daughter, not yet anyway. She needed to hear it from the woman directly. Even then…
"Maybe she is; I don't know yet. That's one of the reasons I need to talk to her," Wendy replied. "You just go to sleep. It's been a long few days, and it might be a few more long days still."
"Okay. I love you, Mom," Kristin said as she snuggled up to her pillow.
"Love you too, sweetie. I'll be with you soon."
It was several minutes of waiting for the pony to finish. Wendy sat at the small table in the room and had a cigarette while the woman got herself clean and human. Wendy had just finished the cigarette as Miss Newman emerged from the bathroom, human and dressed.
The older woman looked at the kids and Charles, then looked at Wendy. "Let me get my tablet, and we can step outside. Go ahead and bring your smokes; you'll probably need them before we're done."
Wendy stood and shoved her cigarettes and lighter into her jacket pocket. She waited while Miss Newman rushed the strange compact computer from her bags and walked to the door. The older woman opened it and gestured for Wendy to step outside first.
It was cool, but not freezing. Maybe in the low fifties. The parking lot was silent, but she could hear activity in the distance and see the interstate exit from where she stood and cars using it even at this hour.
Miss Newman stepped out and closed the door, and then walked up beside her. The older woman stood, sharing the same view for a few seconds, seeming trying to gather the will to speak.
Wendy decided to go straight in. "Is it true? Are you Charlotte?"
The older woman sighed and lifted the side of her sweater, revealing the distinctive birthmark. Wendy had overlooked it before, or perhaps the older woman had just perfectly blocked the view of it with her arms, but there was no mistaking it. That was Charlotte's birthmark, not something similar.
"I should remind you about what I said about divergent timelines," Miss Newman said as she lowered her sweater again. "Charlotte will never be me. That ship sailed the second those ponies showed up hunting her. It would be easier for everyone if we both treated each other as no relation. This is awkward enough."
"But until they showed up, you were who she would end up as?" Wendy asked in a low voice.
Miss Newman was silent for a few seconds before answering. "That would be correct, but there's no point discussing might-have-beens. There only is what is. She will never be me. She might end up looking similar, but she'll be a different person who lived a different life— at least from age six on. Have you tried remembering details from when you are six? I'm sure you can remember some things, but it's patchy."
Wendy tried to figure out how to respond to that. "So… anything about Charlotte I should know about? Bad things I can head off?
The older woman laughed. "Being a concerned parent? That's fair. I'm not going to go into much since you are only responsible for her till she's off to college, but I can give some tidbits, and you can decide what to do with them. Do try not to be too overbearing, okay?"
"I'll try," Wendy answered.
Miss Newman sighed and looked up at the sky. "Let me see. As a teen, I went through a goth phase. I was an angsty teenager, mad at the world because I wasn't pretty enough or popular enough. I took to wearing black everything, dyed my hair black, wore black makeup, listened to music that involved people moaning about life is pain, started smoking, and behaved overdramatic about everything. I didn't do drugs or drink much alcohol, so there was that. I never stole anything, not even your cigarettes. The first whiff that you had I was smoking, you just started buying them for me— you'd already gone through both Andrea and Kristen stealing cigarettes from you until you realized it was futile to try to stop them. Honestly, I wasn't that bad a teen. I kept my grades up enough to get a scholarship to a college. It was a phase, one I outgrew. I went through a lot of them."
Wendy groaned. "All three of you picked up my bad habit? I've always worried about that."
"Yet you keep on smoking," Miss Newman said with a grunt, then shrugged. "All three of us quit, and long long before you did. I'm not sure exactly when either Andrea or Kristin quit, but I quit when I went to college."
"Well, that's good, I suppose," Wendy said with some relief.
Miss Newman pursed her lips and rubbed at her palms nervously. "Since it was brought up, and because I wanted to make sure to tell you anyway, my version of you got lung cancer. She got lucky. The spell virus that turns people into ponies saved her. Dad was already starting to make arrangements for your funeral before the transformation ended up healing you; it was that close a call. I doubt you can quit anytime in the next few days or even weeks— believe me, I get it, especially with all the stress you're currently under— but take my warnings about you needing to quit seriously."
That hit Wendy like a slap in the face. "I-I'll take that under advisement."
The old version of her daughter nodded. "I'm not going to get into the gory details of my life as an adult. You had little to do with most of it, but there is a matter involving me and Charlotte that I want to address, one of my biggest regrets."
Wendy tensed up. "What is it?"
The older woman looked down at the ground, avoiding making eye contact. "Andrea and Kristin are attracted to men, but Charlotte isn't. She prefers female company, or at least she will when she is older."
"Oh…" Wendy replied, again at a loss at how to respond. "Well… she's my daughter, and I love her no matter what."
"I know you will," Miss Newman replied. "The thing is, things played out very badly for me because of it, and I prefer to save her and you that pain."
"I don't understand how that could make a difference," Wendy asserted.
Miss Newman took a deep breath. "People are more accepting of that kind of thing in my time, but when I was coming of age, there was still a big stigma against it, and the one who put the most stigma on me was me. I refused to accept that about myself, and when I started college, I did something stupid to prove I wasn't a lesbian. I got involved with a jerk of a guy, and I got pregnant."
Wendy gasped. "Oh, no! You did seem too young to be—"
"I'm older than I look," Miss Newman cut in. "Anyway, I ended up getting an abortion. I didn't tell anyone about it until many years later. I also ended up feeling a ton of guilt about that, and that was the time I got highly religious."
It did seem odd that this version of Charlotte was religious when Wendy knew she didn't raise her kids that way. This explained that. "And that's a regret? Sorry, I don't understand. Is it the abortion you regret?"
The other woman shook her head sadly. "I do regret the abortion, but it isn't the big thing. What I regret is that around that time, my relationship with the rest of the family got very frayed. It got so frayed that I cut you off. From around the time I was twenty-three up until around fifty, we didn't talk or communicate in any manner. You were dead to me. It took so long to reconnect, and I feel terrible for all the time we lost. If there's something I would go back and do over again concerning you and Dad, it would be that."
Wendy drew herself up, telling herself she wasn't going to cry. "I'll do my best to make sure the same thing doesn't happen again. Thank you for telling me."
Miss Newman let out a long breath. "That's enough about me. Kristin is who we need to be concerned about now and how much she fucked things up for herself by putting that necklace on."
Wendy gulped. "Tell me; I need to know."
The older woman turned a stern gaze on her. "Yes, you do. First thing, Kristin has magic now, and there's nothing anyone, including me, can do to undo that. It is a side effect of having that particular spell used on her."
"Magic like you?" Wendy asked.
Miss Newman shook her head. "Human magic, and the thing about human magic is you never know what it does until it starts doing something, if it does anything. However, with how long she had that necklace on, I'm willing to lean on the side hers is going to do something, and that's bad, very very bad."
Wendy wet her lips with her tongue. "Okay, you can't undo it. What do I do?"
"Pray?" Miss Newman answered with a mirthless chuckle. "Her having magic is bad enough, but what happens when the government finds out about what she can do? They'll make a science experiment out of her, depending on how dramatic the magic manifests."
"How...how dramatic can it get?" Wendy asked, afraid to find out.
"It varies widely. Human magic like mine is rather tame; I just see things and am lucky enough before it first manifested to have learned what I'm looking at. However, there are far worse case scenarios. I have a niece who, when her magic manifested, had all sound go haywire around her, and it never stopped until she finally learned how to control it. I know of a man who had an aura around him all the time that caused everyone who came within fifty feet of him to have crippling anxiety, and he could control you through your emotions. I know a woman who could suck all the heat out of a room by stepping into it; she could turn a sauna into an icebox in seconds. I met a woman who could cause excruciating pain with the briefest of touches. These types of things Kristin wouldn't ever be able to hide, and she won't have ponies there to help her learn to control whatever it is she ends up doing. You can't predict human magic until it has been used."
Wendy started to cry. "And you can't do anything to help her?"
"I'm not even going to be here for it. I only have a few days here, and then I'm pulled back home, never to return," Miss Newman said firmly. "What Kristin will do won't happen right away. At the earliest, it will be a few months till something happens. At the latest, I give it till she's thirteen or fourteen at most. Her magic is in her, and it isn't going anywhere, but it needs time to mature, just like her. I'm telling you now; there won't be a warning; it will just happen at some point."
"Oh God," Wendy whispered. What were they going to do? Did they need to keep Kristin locked away from everyone until the magic finally manifested? What good would that even do if they had no idea how to deal with it once it started? They couldn't lock her away forever, and that would be cruel.
"The other big issue is she is now effectively immune to the virus that ends up transforming people into ponies," Miss Newman continued. "The way its designer set it up wasn't intended for working on people who already had magic. If I were more powerful, I might be able to come up with a way of fixing it so she could get infected, but I'm not."
Wendy gave the woman a confused look. "Is it important that she transform? Is it...is it something like what happened to the other me?"
"A health problem?" Miss Newman asked, then shook her head. "No, nothing like that. All of us had lives when the virus came, families. Andrea was the only one in her immediate family that caught the virus; none of her kids, grandkids, or her husband did. Guess what happened to her marriage when she transformed and her husband didn't?"
"Oh no…" Wendy said, crying again.
Miss Newman nodded. "In Kristin's case, everyone in her immediate family did, all of them, down to the grandkids. If you are asking how Andrea's family got completely skipped and Kristin's took a full hit, the reason was it hit different regions of the country harder than others, and they were living in two very different places. Anyway, it's no guarantee that they'll end up with the same people, but if they do...Kristin's perfect marriage might be over. And I mean perfect marriage. I have never seen two old ponies like her and her husband be so lovey-dovey with one another as they are. Married for forty-five years, and they still act like every day is their honeymoon. I swear rabbits screw less than those two."
Wendy took a step back. "I didn't need to hear that last part. Although I'm thrilled to hear it goes so well… or at least, that it did. What do I do to make this better? With that or with the magic or anything with Kristin?"
"Sometimes we make a bad decision, and it screws us over for life," Miss Newman replied and sighed. "Kristin made one of those today, and there's nothing to be done. I'm sorry. I really am."
Wendy quietly watched as Miss Newman flicked through some screens on her tiny little computer.
"You don't have to watch this if you don't want to, but I wanted to share it," Miss Newman said as she pointed at the screen.
"What is it?" Wendy asked.
"Videos, basically home movies of much of the family," Miss Newman replied, smiling slightly. "My youngest adopted son is very good with computers and technology, far better than me. He made these, and I confiscated them. No one knows I kept them rather than destroy them. It's a major failing of mine— not willingly destroying anything, even when all good sense says I should."
"What's so bad about home movies that would need you to destroy them?" Wendy asked in confusion as she grabbed the computer with her good hand.
"Outsiders can use them to determine details about the layout of the house, security within, and where people might be located. They're a security risk," Miss Newman explained. "There are a lot of people that would love to see me dead. Also, many would love to capture me and force me to spill my secrets to them. They sometimes target other family members as potential ransom targets or worse. Sometimes it has nothing to do with me. Sometimes they're trying to get leverage over my eldest daughter, my deceased spouse, or my adopted foals' deceased mother."
"Leverage over your dead husband and your adopted kids' dead mother? How do you get leverage over someone who is already dead?"
"Dead wife, not husband," Miss Newman corrected. "And in the case of the two in question, they're dead, but their spirits live on. It's tough trying to threaten something that isn't alive and has no physical form. They don't take threats against their lives seriously for some reason. So people threaten their loved ones instead, which in this case makes me a target for that in addition to all the things I'm normally a target for. Life is never dull."
"Wife?" Wendy asked, then covered her mouth in embarrassment. "I'm sorry. You already said that— Well… we don't… I'm sorry. I should have had some common sense."
Miss Newman chuckled. "It's okay. A smart person once said, and I quote, common sense is not wisdom and intelligence— no, wisdom and intelligence are strictly uncommon things. What is common is self-destructive behavior, panic, bigotry, hate, and a complete disregard for rational thinking. The problem with the general public isn't that there is no common sense, but the fact there is far too much of it."
Wendy blinked. "I don't think I've ever heard that one. It isn't exactly nice. Who said that?"
"My niece, the same one I mentioned who had the sound powers," Miss Newman answered. "Brilliant physicist and astronomer, she has the sixth law of physics named after her. Redefined how we measured distance in the universe by the time she was seven years old. She can be a little naive and clueless when you aren't talking science with her, but every once in a while, she can say something brilliant that doesn't have ten tons of math involved."
"It still isn't very nice," Wendy asserted.
"Truth can be harsh," Miss Newman said with a shrug. "We're all guilty of having common sense sometimes; me far more than I like. You can only catch what you are doing, try to fix it, and move forward."
"Is she Kristin or Andrea's daughter?" Wendy asked, curious.
Miss Newman frowned. "My dead wife's brother's. The entire family tree and connecting trees through marriage are loaded with the people that others want to rub elbows with. Kristin has a son she is always willing to brag about who was recently elected to the US House of Representatives, and I'm not aware of anyone among Andrea or Kristin's descendants that are struggling. I know all of mine are doing quite well."
Wendy smiled, but melancholy quickly set in. "And now that's all out the window."
"It may be on a different course now, but I wanted you to know that you did well by us, and I'm sure your girls can still do great things," Miss Newman said quietly. "I'm proud of my family, all of it. Forgive an old woman for her desire to boast about her loved ones."
"Kristin might not have that chance, according to you," Wendy bitterly reminded her.
The older woman sighed. "That is a possibility, unfortunately. However, I was giving worse-case scenarios. There are still chances she might manifest something much tamer and more easily hidden. I could name several people with magic that isn't so obvious or disruptive, like myself. Don't give up hope. I was merely trying to stress how bad it could be, not tell you that it will be that bad. Prepare for the worst and hope for the best."
Wendy frowned. The last day didn't have her in a mindset to hope for the best. She looked at the tiny computer in her hand, which currently had a black screen with an arrow on it.
"Home movies, huh? What do I get out of watching them?" she asked.
"Maybe a little bit of optimism for the future when things are looking bleak," Miss Newman replied somberly.
"How do I—" Wendy asked as she lifted the computer.
Miss Newman reached over and tapped the screen, and the video began to play.
The lighting was dim, but she could make out a large amount of electronic equipment. Something was moving around in the darkness.
"Starting camera drone test three," whoever was being filmed announced.
The camera seemed to be rising, and Wendy squinted to try to understand better what was going on.
"Yes! Working as— NO!" the voice shouted.
The camera went flying across the room, and the picture went completely black.
Wendy glanced at Miss Newman. "Are you sure this is the correct video?"
"Just keep watching," Miss Newman instructed.
The screen lit up again and showed a close-up of a dark blue pony face. It grinned and then backed away, and she could now see that it had webbed wings and a black mane.
"That's Mèng, my youngest," Miss Newman explained.
"Starting camera drone test four. The ceiling fan is off, so the drone won't hit it again," Mèng announced as he went over to what looked like a computer.
The camera rose again, slower than last time. It then moved around the room. Wendy was able to see electronic gadgets everywhere, a very low sitting bed that was unmade, what she guessed was a television, although it was huge and flat. There were some framed pictures on the walks that had both humans and ponies in them, but she couldn't make out much detail in the dim light. She also spotted the window, and despite it having heavy curtains over it, some daylight flickered in around their edges.
"He's the same...breed... of pony as that mare I took out of the sky. They prefer things to be dark and can see exceptionally well in it. He started playing with these drones because they could be sent out in the daylight, and he could filter the light on screens so the sunlight wouldn't be so harsh on his eyes. He is perfectly capable of going out in the sun if he wants to. However, his vision would be impaired," Miss Newman explained as the camera continued to move around the room.
Wendy already gathered he was the same type of pony as the one the girls had seen days before, and she just nodded, still trying to make out details in the background.
"Drone seems to handle well. Time for a field test. Field test one of the camera drone commencing now," Mèng announced.
The camera or drone or whatever had a mechanical arm, and it was fumbling to get the bedroom door open.
"What kind of name is Mèng?" Wendy asked. "Isn't that the name of the Flash Gordan villain?"
"Hǎo Mèng is his full name, but everyone just says Mèng," Miss Newman replied. "The three colts and one filly I adopted are all from China, and I never attempted to change their names. My eldest daughter is the only one I gave birth to."
"What's her name?" Wendy asked as the drone continued to try to get the door open— it seemed Mèng was still working on getting the bugs out.
"Phobia Remedy."
Wendy turned to look at the older woman. "You have bizarre tastes in names."
"She named herself," Miss Newman said with a chuckle. "At least half, if not more, ponies renamed themselves after their transformation. I was one of them too. My legal name when I'm in pony form is Sunset Blessing— Charlotte Newman is legally my name too, but it's an alias provided by the government for me to operate under as a human, complete with a birth certificate, SSN, and a paper trail of fake history. Though, the last name they gave me is a little on the head. New-man? Seriously? How blatant do they want to be about it?"
"Really bizzare tastes in names," Wendy reiterated. She refocused on the screen as the drone finally made it through the door.
She'd been expecting some futuristic building like something out of Star Trek or Star Wars; instead, the halls looked like the building was some old-timey mansion. There were doors going down either side of the hall. The screen suddenly split, with the top half looking forward and the bottom half looking backward.
The drone went down the hall into a stairwell, where an armed guard, an armed human guard, suddenly came to attention and pointed a gun at the drone.
"Whoa! Herb, it's Mèng! It's my drone! Don't shoot it down!" Mèng's voice cried out in alarm.
The guard lowered his gun and touched his ear. "Miss Portsmith, ma'am, I have a drone in the house that has your nephew's voice on the intercom. How do I proceed?" He paused a few seconds, then nodded before looking back at the drone. "Your Aunt Andrea wants to know if you're recording or not."
"Of course not," Mèng blatantly lied without even sounding a trifle bit guilty.
The guard touched his ear again. "He says no, ma'am. Understood, ma'am. I'll tell him." The guard lowered his hand. "She says that if she finds out you're lying, she is going to come confiscate your hard drive and your drone."
"Sure thing!" Mèng replied, and the camera went flying past the guard and down the stairs.
There were more stairs heading downward, indicating there were at least three stories to this mansion, but the drone instead went down a hall on the next floor down. There was a voice speaking somewhere, and it gradually got louder as the drone approached a cracked open door.
"—and the DA's office should be issuing a statement about that within the next day or two," an older woman, not Miss Newman, said as the sound became clearer.
The drone pushed through the doorway, revealing what looked like an office. A pony with no wings or horn was pacing back and forth, seemingly talking to herself. There was something familiar about her.
Wendy's eyes went wide, and she almost dropped the tablet. Her fumbling with it somehow paused the video, giving a still picture of the pony. "Oh my God! That's Kristin? Isn't it?" It was the exact coloration as Kristin, except she was Miss Newman's size, had glasses, and a fair amount of grey in her now faded green mane.
"She goes by Amicus Curiae," Miss Newman answered. "That's Latin; it means something about friend— excuse me not understanding Latin well enough to give a proper definition. I don't think it is worth my time to learn dead languages, but it is some legal term. That's why I kept slipping up with Kristin's name after she put the necklace on. She's the spitting image of my sister in my time, aside from being a little filly. I wasn't certain they would come out the same tribe and coloration. Her resonance is apparently close enough for the necklace to remember it." She reached over and tapped the screen.
The video started again, and the future Kristin looked up at the drone. A look of terror flashed across her features, and she went diving under the desk. "Guards! Sunset! Andrea! Shǔguāng! Anybody! I'm under attack!"
"It's just me, Aunt Ami!" Mèng shouted over the speaker.
Future Kristin stuck her head out from under her desk. "Mèng? What the hell!? Get that thing out of my office immediately! I'm on a call with a client!" Her eyes went wide, and she touched a hoof to her ear. "I'm very sorry, Mister Fierro. My nephew just flew a drone into my office space, and I mistook it for an attack on the mansion. Expecting ponies to try to assault your home is one of the joys of being Sunset Blessing's older sister. Again, very sorry. Where were we?"
Wendy looked to her side. "Is it really that bad?"
Miss Newman shook her head. "No, Ami is just overreacting. Oh, there's always someone or another trying to sneak in, that's true, but there have only been three successful invasions in the seventeen years I've lived there, counting this most recent one where they nabbed the time travel spell, and none of the invaders has ever been in the same room with her."
"Three home invasions in seventeen years are three too many," Wendy said dryly.
Miss Newman shrugged. "I wish I could stop it, but it comes with the territory with me. It's part of why I can't leave the mansion in pony form."
"Because they hate you that much?" Wendy asked in disbelief and dread.
"That and I have exceedingly valuable knowledge. The only others who know what I know are too difficult to pull the same crap with. Them try to kidnap an alicorn? Ha! That's a laugh; not going to happen. Despite having twenty-four-seven armed guards at my home, I'm still the easiest target to reach and capture."
"You aren't making me feel better about the future by telling me that," Wendy remarked with a frown.
"Well, I'm only pointing out that we've done well for ourselves. Nothing is ever perfect."
While they had been talking, the drone had migrated outside through a window, revealing lush gardens and plenty of trees in the distance. Wendy had half expected it to be some burnt-out post-apocalyptic wasteland outside, but it was actually very pleasant.
The camera focused on five more earth ponies. One was sleeping, one was working in the flowerbed, and the last three seemed to be helping the one gardening. The one sleeping and the one gardening were very thin and very wrinkled, with manes that were straight white from age. The other three weren't as old, but she could tell the one with the sparkly orange fur was of similar age to future Kristin, despite the shimmering grey mane, while the others seemed considerably younger.
The glittery one looked up at the drone as it approached and scowled. "I already told you that thing better not be recording."
Wendy gasped again. "Is that Andrea?"
Miss Newman reached over and paused the video. "That's my Andrea. The two really elderly ponies I think you can guess at the identities of too."
Wendy tensed up as she refocused on the pony gardening. The mare lacked the odd fur coloration as the rest, being only a plain brown. She was so thin that it seemed like a good breeze would pick her up and carry her away, yet she seemed to be working on replanting flower bulbs with ease, smiling contentedly as she did so.
"That's me?" Wendy asked, shaking. Her eyes drifted to the other elderly pony, who had faded blue fur. "And the blue one is your father?"
"Yes, the older brown one is my version of you. The older blue one is my dad. The young brown stallion is my son, Hé Líng. The young blue one with the orange mane is my baby brother, Sinker," Miss Newman said smugly.
That last one was as much a shock as seeing herself. "B-b-baby brother? I'm having another kid?!"
"Not for a long while yet, but yes," Miss Newman replied, smirking. "One of the side effects of the transformation was it more or less reset your biological clock in regards to fertility, a fact you learned not long after transforming. At the point that this video was taken, enough time has passed that you've gone through menopause again, but it was only a few years back. That was a fun ordeal, having you, Andrea, and Kristin going through menopause simultaneously. I haven't had it yet, but I've been aging at a slower rate for the last seventeen years."
Wendy handed the tablet back to the older woman. "I think I've seen enough. You showed me the whole family that I know, plus some. I need to go to bed and process this."
Charles woke up to the sound of the television and turned his head to see Wendy still fast asleep beside him. He rolled over and looked at the clock. It was eleven in the morning. Crap, he hadn't meant to sleep in late.
He sat up and looked around. All three girls were sitting on the bed and were just now starting to push and shove at each other now that the movie they were watching was over. He was relieved to see Kristin back as a human and no worse for wear.
Miss Newman, in her human form, was curled up in a fetal position on the room's one padded armchair. It was kind of impressive that she had managed to compress herself down enough to fit on it like that, although he was sure she was going to have a backache whenever she woke up.
"Don't fight," he instructed the girls in a loud whisper. "Your mother and Miss Newman are still sleeping."
"Are you going to get Cinnamon and Pretty out of the car, Daddy?" Charlotte asked.
Add another crap to his list. He had forgotten entirely that the animals were even in the car. Cinnamon had probably used the cage for a litter box by now. Pretty had plenty of food in his cage, but did they have anything at all to feed the cat?
His stomach growled at that moment. They'd all missed dinner and breakfast, and the late-night snacks at the rest stop didn't really count. Food for everyone was going to be an immediate priority.
"Have either of them been up?" he asked the girls.
"No," the three of them chorused, shaking their heads.
"Mom and Miss Newman went outside last night and were out there a long time," Kristin informed him.
And neither of them remembered the pets either. They had probably been discussing Kristin. Kristin seemed fine, but that didn't mean everything was okay with her.
He carefully slid out of bed and walked over to where the girls were. "Kristin, are you feeling okay after last night? Anything feel weird or sore?"
Kristin shook her head. "Uh-uh. I feel good, just tired." Her expression then shifted to excitement. "Mom says I get to have my own special day where everyone does what I want when we get back home!"
"That's not fair!" Andrea shouted in protest. "You shouldn't get a special day for being stupid!"
"It's too fair! I never get anything!" Kristin hollered back, then shoved her sister. The two got into a shoving match, and Charlotte got caught in the crossfire.
"Aahhh! Don't hit me! I didn't do nothing!" Charlotte complained.
"Yes, you did! This is all your fault!" Andrea said, changing targets to her baby sister.
"Yeah! It's all about you! That's why I'm getting a day!" Kristin yelled.
Andrea turned back to shoving Kristin. "I should get a day too!"
"Girls! Stop fighting, or no one is getting anything other than grounded!" he said, raising his voice.
Wendy groaned and rolled over to face them all. "Girls, can you please be nice to one another? You were so good on the way here."
"Kristin hit me, and I didn't do nothing wrong!" Charlotte said as she pointed a finger accusingly at her sister.
Wendy sat up slowly. "Well, your son in the future scares Kristin half-to-death, so we'll call it even for right now. Kristin, don't hit your sister."
Charles raised an eyebrow at his wife. "Guessing you had an enlightening conversation with pain-in-the-ass last night?"
Wendy looked at him blankly and then broke down laughing.
"I'll take that as a yes...I guess," Charles said slowly, feeling a little worried.
"Definitely a yes," Wendy confirmed, then flopped back on her pillow.
He sat down on the bed beside her and whispered in her ear. "Is Kristin going to be okay?"
Wendy looked over at the girls, who were now distracted by another movie coming on, and then turned and met his eyes. "We need to talk about that, out of earshot of the girls. There's going to be issues."
"We forgot the cat and bird in the car if you want to walk out with me and get them," Charles suggested. "We need to figure out what we're doing for lunch too."
His wife groaned as she sat back up. "That cat is going to shred us for leaving him in the carrier that long."
"I vote we let Charlotte be the one to release him from his cage. She has the best chance of surviving," he suggested with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. He had a feeling that he was going to need all the lightheartedness he could get.
"Her or Miss Newman," Wendy said as she got out of bed and started putting on her shoes that she had apparently just kicked off as she was getting in it last night.
Charles found his own. At least they didn't have to go through getting dressed. He waited while Wendy went to the bathroom.
He looked at his daughters. "Your mom and I are going to step outside for a few minutes. We'll be right by the car. Try to keep your voices down. Miss Newman is still sleeping. Andrea, I want you to take a shower first while we're outside."
"But Kristin broke the tub when she was a pony!" Andrea protested as she pointed at the bathroom.
"I didn't break it! I just cracked it a little," Kristin countered defensively.
"It's a big crack," Charlotte added in.
"The tub is safe to take a shower in," Wendy called out from the bathroom. "Just keep your feet away from the crack. If you were being asked to take a bath, that wouldn't work, but showering is fine."
He was tempted to go look at how bad a crack this was, but decided he didn't want to get stressed about room damages at the moment. How had Kristin even cracked it when she was so small? Miss Newman said Kristin had been strong, but he had thought she was exaggerating how much. Ants were absurdly strong for their size. How much could a pony that weighed less than twenty pounds do?
Wendy came out of the bathroom, and the two of them headed to the door, pausing just long enough to make sure Andrea went to take a shower.
Outside it was grey, with a heavy overcast, and it was a tiny bit chilly. It was cool enough that no one seemed to want to hang around in the parking lot, which was fine by him. Charles rushed the keys out of his pocket and went to the rear of the car to open it.
His wife came up beside him and spoke quietly. "Kristin is fine for right now. The problems will come later. Miss Newman said it could be a few months at the earliest, but was leaning more towards when Kristin hits her early teens."
"What kind of problems?" he asked, envisioning a host of possible health problems.
"We don't know," Wendy said in a bitter voice. "She's got magic, Charles, actual magic, and Miss Newman said there's no way to predict what form that magic will take until it matures enough to do something. She did seem to indicate that it would start doing things without Kristin being able to control it at first. We just don't know what things, and there's nothing we can do to stop or contain it. Miss Newman said, just hope it isn't anything big that can't be hidden and prepare for something that everyone can't help noticing."
He pulled the cat carrier with the hissing cat out of the car and set it on the ground. Pretty had a cover over his cage, but the activity was enough to get him singing. Charles didn't much care at the moment about either.
"How do we prepare? How do we know when it's coming?" he asked.
Wendy shook her head. "I don't know, and Miss Newman was no help. She said there wouldn't be a warning; it would just happen. She said it could be something like her human magic. Miss Newman just sees energy all the time that the rest of us can't. Something like that we can hide the fact Kristin can do it; she just has to get used to it, but there's other examples she gave that would have the feds pounding on our door the same day— sound going berserk, sapping all the heat out of the room, all kinds of crazy shit."
"Sucks to be whoever got stuck with the heat thing. All of those would scare everyone half-to-death," Charles replied dryly.
She gave a sad nod. "Yes."
He wasn't sure where to go with that. "So… Kristin is getting superpowers. Maybe we should brush up on reading some comic books."
"This isn't a joke," Wendy snapped.
He looked at her. "I'm not joking. That's the closest thing we can compare this kind of thing to. It's not perfect, but it could give us ideas on how to keep her stuff secret and her safe. I mean, people who write those have spent years dreaming up how to handle these scenarios; it's worth looking into. Do you have any better ideas?"
She looked down, defeated. "No, and I hate that the best idea we have at the moment is to go read some comic books."
"Me too," he admitted. "Anything else of import that was talked about last night? The girls said you were out late, and you said the conversation was enlightening."
Wendy sighed. "Plenty of things were said last night. I suppose the next big bombshell the girls already figured out, and we were too stupid to see it. Miss Newman is Charlotte, or at least, who Charlotte would have been before all this stuff happened. Kristin told me, and Miss Newman confirmed it."
He had to sit down after that to try to absorb it and made a seat for himself where he had just pulled the cat carrier out. "Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
He shook his head. "Why didn't she say anything?"
Wendy gave a dry laugh. "I don't blame her. How do you even start that conversation? What would you do if you could go back as an adult to when you were six years old?"
He gritted his teeth. "I probably would go punch my dad in the face for all the things he did."
"That's fair," Wendy said quietly.
He refused to think any more about what he would do in the same situation. His past was in the past, and he had escaped it. "So… does she want to punch us in the face?"
"No… the stuff she said went wrong she blames herself for, but things went wrong," Wendy said mournfully. "She doesn't put any blame on us, but when I listened to what happened… well, once I had time to think about what she told me… I felt like we did a bad job helping our daughter when she was dealing with some serious self-image problems. It's our job as parents to make sure our kids never feel ashamed of who they are, and we failed."
"We'll have to do better this time," he replied. It was the easy answer; he just hoped it would be as easy to do as it was to say. "She doesn't seem to have self-image problems now. I'm the whatever number greatest mage living." He caught himself and shook his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't mock her, especially if she's Charlotte."
"It's probably for the best if we didn't think of her as Charlotte," Wendy replied. "Our baby girl is never going to be Miss Newman. Miss Newman stressed that, and I think she's right to stress it. We should just continue to think of her as Miss Newman. It makes it easier for all of us. She's the one who instructed me to do so, so it won't hurt her feelings."
"Kind of hard to deal with your kid if your kid is twice your age. She likely thinks of us as children," Charles mused.
Wendy started fishing in her jacket pocket for her cigarettes, then suddenly stopped and seemed to force her hand down to her side. "She showed me some home movies. I got to see her versions of Andrea, Kristin, and us. We end up having a fourth kid in our late sixties in her timeline. That was almost as shocking as seeing me as a pony. Actually, I think it was more shocking. It seems stupid that should be a bigger deal than seeing myself as a wizened old talking horse planting tulip bulbs in a garden, but it was to me."
"Kind of throws out the hopes of spending our retirement sitting around on porch swings without having to be responsible for anything," he said, not as upset as his wife about the last bit of news. "But hey, there's some other good news in there not related to a fourth bundle of joy."
"What is that?" Wendy asked curiously.
He gave her a big smile. "You always wanted a tulip garden."
Wendy chuckled in earnest at that. "You have me there. Oh! And I only need to have a gun on hand when Andrea and Kristin bring home boys."
He balled up his fist. "What? Do they have abusive—"
"No! Nothing like that!" Wendy corrected. "You know how they are always saying we're going to make our girls gay with their toys?"
He blinked. "Charlotte?"
She nodded. "I don't think it has anything to do with toys or anything. I think it's just the way she is."
"Does this feed into that whole self-image thing?" he asked.
She deliberately looked away and nodded.
He took a deep breath. "We'll do better."
Cinnamon started to loudly hiss and spit within his cage, finally having enough.
When Wendy and her husband went back inside, they were pleased to see that Kristin had gone to take a shower after Andrea without having to be prompted. Andrea was watching TV. Miss Newman was awake and currently reading her Bible. Charlotte was sitting on the edge of a bed, watching Miss Newman as if watching an old woman read was the most exciting thing in the world. That last one wasn't surprising. If Charlotte knew Miss Newman was a future her, then it made sense Charlotte would be fascinated by anything the old woman was doing. She'd probably get bored soon if nothing interesting happened, so Wendy decided not to worry about it. She was about to get a distraction anyway.
"Charlotte, would you mind letting Cinnamon out of his carrier?" Wendy asked as she set it down. Charles walked over to the table Miss Newman was sitting at and set the birdcage down on it, earning him a brief dirty look as she adjusted.
Charlotte hopped down from the bed and hurried over to the carrier. She fumbled with the latch on the door, needing both hands to open it. The second the door opened, the cat dashed out of the carrier and under a bed. The girl's interest in the cat was sadly short-lived, and she immediately went back to watching Miss Newman.
Miss Newman spared Charlotte a look. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to be doing something else, child?"
"I need to watch you to find out how to be a great mage," Charlotte said matter-of-factly.
The old woman closed her Bible and turned her full attention to Charlotte. "You lack the capabilities at this time and won't have them until you are even older than your parents are now. You'll need to be patient. In the meantime, I think you might find a lot more interesting to do than stare at me."
Charlotte did not give up. "What are you reading?"
"My Bible," Miss Newman answered.
"Will you read it to me?" Charlotte asked.
Miss Newman shook her head. "No."
Wendy blinked. "Why? I'm not complaining, but I don't have any objection to her being interested in that."
Miss Newman frowned. "My theology has developed some quirks to it over the past twenty years or so, and among those quirks is that I don't believe in indoctrinating children. It breeds religious people rather than Godly people. Lord knows we don't need any more religious people; people more concerned with grandstanding their Christianity than they are about being Christlike. I do hope she embraces the faith, but not until she is old enough to truly understand what it means."
"I can respect that. Thank you for not trying to evangelize my kids," Wendy said with a smile.
"A word of warning," Miss Newman said while holding up a finger. "If any of them take up interest when they are older, please help them find a good church with good people. One of my mistakes early on was falling in with a group that was more concerned with condemning others than looking at their own lives. I'm deeply ashamed I behaved in that manner and don't want your girls to look back on their lives and feel the same."
"We'll do better," Charles said in a tired voice. "It seems that there are lots of things that we need to do better than the last time."
Miss Newman looked hurt. "You did perfectly fine last time. Um...has she brought you up to speed about everything that we talked about last night?"
"I told him about you and what you said about Kristin. I didn't have time to go into all the details about you, just a few, including the big one," Wendy explained hurriedly.
Miss Newman didn't look relieved. "Well, that means we should be on the same page about things, and you should know you did nothing wrong."
"That doesn't mean we can't do better. You wouldn't be giving us warnings if there wasn't an opportunity for that, right?" Charles asked stiffly. Wendy could tell he wasn't sure how to deal with Miss Newman now that he knew she was a version of Charlotte.
"I suppose you're right," Miss Newman conceded. "I just don't want you to feel pressure to change anything when you did perfectly well."
Wendy decided not to let this back and forth continue. "We need to get some food. Do you think we are safe to find a Denny's or something, or do we need to hit the road right away? You know better than us."
The older woman lifted the curtain of the window and looked out. "I don't know. I prefer to play it safe and head out immediately, but we can stop for food before leaving the city. You need to be the ones to decide what direction we're going. One of them getting hit with a completely unfamiliar spell is a red flag that alerts them that I'm here. That means they could predict where we're going because they may know how I think. We need to head somewhere I wouldn't go, not South Carolina."
"How are they going to track us if their nocturnal pony can't fly?" Wendy asked.
"They still have a pegasus. A pegasus can't see as well at night, so they could overlook us, but that doesn't mean they're completely blind, so we still have to be careful. They also cover a lot more ground at a much faster pace. We want to be where they aren't looking," Miss Newman answered. "I'm confident they didn't search for us last night after the mare went down. They would have made treating her their only priority, but they will resume tonight and hope the pegasus's greater range makes up for lost time; you can count on it."
"That's something. I guess we go north or south, or even loop around back west," Wendy mused.
Miss Newman nodded. "They will also get more desperate and reckless the closer it gets to their time limit. I wouldn't be surprised if by the last day or two they don't give a damn anymore about being spotted during the day."
Charles looked over from where he had been setting out a water bowl for the cat. "Will you be up and running with your magic by then?"
"In some limited capacity. I won't be able to push myself," Miss Newman said as she absently rubbed her arm. "I'm a great mage because I'm knowledgeable, not because I'm powerful. I won't be able to pull that same trick again while I'm here, and we're in deep sh—" She paused and looked at the girls before resuming. "—we'll be in trouble if I have to square off against their unicorn. He will easily overpower me without that trick at my disposal."
"You should yell at Charlotte for almost cussing," Andrea said smugly.
"I didn't say nothing!" Charlotte protested.
Andrea pointed at Miss Newman. "I meant old Charlotte."
"Honey, she's—" Wendy turned and looked at Miss Newman. "How old exactly are you?"
"Sixty-six," Miss Newman replied, smirking with amusement.
Wendy turned her attention back to Andrea. "—she's sixty-six years old and caught herself before cussing in front of you. I'm guessing you'll be guilty of worse at some point."
"Oh, yeah," Miss Newman said with a snicker. "My Andrea has a mouth that makes sailors cry when she's angry. Don't worry, child, my version of you will be giving me quite the earful about being stupid and reckless when I return home."
"I get to boss you around?" Andrea asked, sounding hopeful.
Miss Newman narrowed her eyes. "My Andrea gets to advise me about security concerns at the house, and she can be very vocal about it. I also will be having words with her because she completely dropped the ball on her job since those ponies hunting us made it through her precautions. The next time you yell at your baby sister for something she is not responsible for, consider how much of this is also my Andrea's fault and how you shouldn't be held accountable for her screw-ups."
Kristin had stepped out of the bathroom while everyone was talking and grinned broadly. "So none of this is my fault? Just them?"
Miss Newman scowled at her. "Remind me, who was it that took my necklace without permission? Someone who can't blame their future self. My version of you in my timeline didn't have anything to do with what's happening. The way I see it, you're the only one of your sisters guilty of anything. Do you want that to continue hanging over your head, or do you want everyone to let it go?"
Kristin deflated at being called out.
"I really should have taken a picture of you while you were a pony," Miss Newman said thoughtfully. "I could have picked at my sister with it. We still do that, old as we are. Some things never change. Just learn to know when you are crossing a line with the picking. Blaming your sisters for things happening now is crossing that line, okay?"
"Okay," Kristin replied with a sniffle, then looked at her little sister. "Sorry, Char."
Miss Newman looked at Wendy apologetically. "I didn't mean to parent your kids. I have a thing about families needing to have one another's backs, and their bickering was getting to me."
Wendy waved it off. "I'm not worried about it. It was stuff that needed to be said. You seem to be good with kids."
Miss Newman's mood seemed to brighten. "You've just got good kids. They've got their issues, but no one's perfect. If you want a difficult kid, you should have tried dealing with my second daughter when I adopted her."
"Highly disobedient?" Wendy asked.
"No, quite the opposite. I have never seen a teen so obedient and responsible, and I've seen some good teens," Miss Newman answered.
"Then why was she difficult if she was well-behaved?" Wendy asked, confused.
Miss Newman gave the girls a sad look and shook her head. "There's a reason I ended up adopting four foals. Their mother was another person people wanted to get secrets from, and her foals were the leverage. She died getting her foals to safety, and my younger daughter watched it all go down. How do you think it impacts someone to see their parent die saving them? It wasn't just a simple accident either, it was a very public and dramatic suicide, and my daughter watched in horror as it happened."
Wendy gasped and covered her mouth. Everyone went quiet and was staring and horror at Miss Newman.
Miss Newman looked at them all and then looked downward. "Their mother was an important pony who had access to knowledge that would put me to shame. China tried to pressure her by threatening the lives of her foals. Yinyu, their mother, knew she would break under such pressure. So she took her foals and ran. They almost made it to safety, but their pursuers were close, too close. They would never have made it. So Yinyu made the only choice she could, one that she knew had been a possibility and had prepared for. She had an incendiary bomb in her bag. She told her foals to keep running and not to look back. She then used the incendiary right where she stood, consuming herself in the blaze."
"Oh my God…" Wendy breathed.
"She died to buy her foals a few precious minutes. They got away, but unfortunately, her daughter, my adopted daughter, looked back," Miss Newman concluded.
The whole room remained still.
"A mother would do anything to keep her kids safe, but that doesn't make it any easier for the ones left behind," Miss Newman added in. "Let's get moving, so you don't have to be in a situation where you need to make that kind of choice."
Wendy waited for Charlotte and Kristin to take seats before sitting down in the Denny's booth. Andrea, Charles, and Miss Newman were on the opposite side of the table. Miss Newman had stressed they shouldn't stop for long, but they all needed a proper meal in them. Charles had raised an eyebrow when she had directed them to the non-smoking section. She hadn't gotten around to telling him about her possible future diagnosis or the news that all the girls had picked up the habit as teens, and despite Miss Newman saying she didn't expect her to stop cold turkey, she was making a concerted effort not to light up. There were bigger things to worry about. She could discuss it with him later.
The motel had been kind enough to refund them the fee for the second night, even though they had canceled it after check-out time. They didn't have the money to spare to splurge on hotel rooms or eat out, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she worried about how they were going to pay the power bill and phone bill with these extra expenses. However, it was only a trace thought, something to worry about another day. Utility bills paled in comparison with the safety of her daughters.
The waitress came over to them with a smile, laying out menus. "Welcome to Denny's, home of the grand slam breakfast. I'm Cathy and will be your server today. Can I start you folks off with some drinks?"
Wendy nodded as she started looking at the menus. "Two coffees, three glasses of milk, and whatever Miss Newman wants."
"Do you have sweet tea?" Miss Newman asked the waitress. The waitress nodded. "Sweet tea then."
"Can I have sweet tea instead of milk?" Charlotte asked.
Wendy grimaced. "Baby, you've never had sweet tea before. You might not like it."
"I want sweet tea," Charlotte insisted.
Wendy sighed. "Make that only two milks, two coffees, and two sweet teas. Can you add a glass of water too? Just in case she decides not to drink the tea?"
The waitress laughed. "I'll just switch it out for some apple juice if that turns out to be the case. They are similarly priced. I've got experience with kids ordering drinks they won't drink."
"Thank you," Wendy replied gratefully. She noted she needed to make sure to leave a good tip.
The waitress walked off to get their drinks, and they all studied their menus.
"Do I have to order off of the kid's menu?" Andrea asked.
"What are you wanting to order?" Charles asked.
"The all-American burger and fries," Andrea said, pointing at the picture on the menu.
Charles looked at it and considered. "That seems a little big. Are you sure you can eat all that?"
Andrea nodded. "I'm sure."
"You won't get whatever toy or activity comes with the kids' meal if you get that," Charles reminded her.
"That's okay," Andrea said with a shrug.
Kristin looked worried as she looked over the menu, and Wendy looked over to her. "Something wrong, Kristin?"
"Am I going to get sick like Miss Newman if I eat meat?" Kristin asked.
"No, you shouldn't have any changes in your diet due to your experience," Miss Newman answered quickly. "Order what you'd normally want."
The girl still looked a little anxious. "I want the kids' cheeseburger."
Wendy smiled, hoping that Kristin wouldn't make herself sick worrying about it. She then glanced over at Charlotte. "Kids' cheeseburger for you too?"
Charlotte looked at Miss Newman. "What are you getting?"
Miss Newman frowned. "Scrambled eggs and hash browns, and you shouldn't copy me because I know for a fact you don't like scrambled eggs."
Charlotte frowned in disgust. "Why are you eating eggs? You don't like eggs. Eggs are yucky!"
"Correction, you don't like eggs," Miss Newman replied. "My tastes have gone through at least three significant shifts over time, so I do like eggs. I know you'll pick at them and refuse to eat if you order them. Get your cheeseburger, child. You need to eat, not waste your parents' money."
Charlotte pouted. "But I want to be like you."
Miss Newman raised a finger but caught herself and swallowed whatever it was she was going to say. She took a deep breath and seemed to force herself to relax. The woman then reached over and grabbed a pencil and a napkin, unfolded the napkin, and began writing on it. Wendy tried reading what she was writing, but it made little sense to her. There were odd symbols that seemed to overlap one another and what looked like algebra or calculus equations. She was very rapidly filling the entire napkin with it.
The woman spent about thirty seconds scribbling then placed the napkin in front of Charlotte. "Do you see that?"
Charlotte gave the napkin a confused look. "It's a bunch of weird numbers and stuff."
"That is a written representation of what I did when I gave those guys a flat tire," Miss Newman explained. "There's some advanced math involved, math that you don't know yet. You want to learn to do the things I do? It takes a lot of work to be truly great. Start with doing well in school and learning your math."
Charlotte stared at the napkin as if that would better help her comprehend what was written on it.
Wendy questioned in her head whether it was wise to have that written down where someone could find it, but then reminded herself that there wasn't anyone who could do anything with it or even understand what they were looking at. She certainly didn't. Some of that was math, but a good deal of it was those odd shapes overlapping. She was sure that anyone looking at it would only believe it to be random scribbles.
The waitress returned with their drinks, and Wendy waited to see how Charlotte would react to the sweet tea.
The girl sniffed at it and wrinkled up her nose, hardly the most encouraging sign that she would end up drinking it. She didn't have much experience with drinks beyond milk, water, juice, and kool-aid. Soda was rarely purchased in their household, so Charlotte didn't even normally drink that. Tea, like coffee, tended to be an acquired taste. She also read in a Reader's Digest that sweet tea had more caffeine than a can of soda, although less than a cup of coffee. Given Charlotte's small size, they might just be handing her the equivalent of an espresso. Maybe she should hope Charlotte didn't want to drink it after trying it.
Charlotte took a sip, and her face scrunched up. "It tastes weird. It doesn't taste normal."
Miss Newman grit the back of her teeth. "Saying something isn't normal implies being wrong or bad. Trying to avoid classifying things as normal or not normal, lest you start stigmatizing things you should not."
"I don't know what that word means, stigmatizing," Charlotte replied.
"You are implying something should be disapproved of. That is what stigmatizing means," Miss Newman answered. "I did it far too much when I was younger; to myself and others. You shouldn't try to be like me; you should try to be better. Don't cast judgment by saying things aren't normal." She then took a sip of her tea, and her eyes bulged before spitting it back into her glass. "Okay, you win this round, child. These people don't know how to brew proper sweet tea. Good Lord!"
Charlotte smiled and pushed her glass away. "Good Lord!"
Miss Newman glared at her then shook her head. "I guess I'll get a coffee instead."
"No, you can't have coffee," Wendy informed Charlotte before the question could be raised.
Charlotte pouted again.
The waitress returned. The drinks were replaced with plenty of apologies about the quality of the tea, and orders were placed. They sat in silence while they awaited their food. It was hard to talk about much while out in public, and Wendy was thankful that the girls had the good sense not to say anything that would earn them looks from people within earshot. When the food arrived, everyone ate in silence for at least two minutes before anyone dared speak.
Wendy cleared her throat as she poked at her eggs. "I was thinking we could loop around Nebraska and head back home."
Miss Newman raised an eyebrow at her. "Well, that isn't what they'd anticipate me doing, so I suppose that could work. It still would leave us with the issue of my landlord's friends."
"We can lie and say we dropped you off here, and we were only doing you a favor driving you here since your house burnt down, but we didn't know you that well. We can claim you paid us or something," Wendy suggested. "You just have to keep out of sight."
The older woman grimaced. "I'm not sure I'm happy with this plan, but we'll go with it. Perhaps I can supply you with lottery numbers that they could steal off you. That might satisfy them."
"Heh, maybe we'll get lucky and not need to go that far," Charles laughed.
"You winning the lottery would ensure they won't leave you in peace," Miss Newman said dryly. "The numbers are to be stolen, not used."
Charles frowned. "Well, that sucks."
"Being dead sucks more," Miss Newman replied and took another bite of her eggs. She finished chewing and swallowed before continuing. "Money came and went and came again for me. I'd trade it all to bring back those I lost along the way."
"Do you make lots of money being a mage?" Charlotte asked.
"I don't ever get paid for that, just get drafted into projects by the government or other powerful people that order me to do something or by people that guilt trip me into helping. I make all my income off of political consultant work and book deals. Primarily the book deals; the consultant work barely pays a living wage in my case. Pay attention to your grammar and writing lessons, kid," Miss Newman answered.
"The government doesn't pay you for your work?" Wendy asked. "That doesn't seem right."
Miss Newman shrugged. "They pay me in a different coin. I get a lot of favors, and they stay off my back. Do you know how much trouble anyone but me would get into for using the methods I did to get here— or even coming here? I'm going to probably get off with a slap on the wrist and have to make a special promise not to do it anymore or teach anyone how to do it. I'm such a hypocrite. I write about the misuse of power and need for oversight; then I make dangerous things with no such oversight."
Wendy shook her head. "Special promise, seriously?"
"A very special promise, one that I can't break. My daughter would administer it, and it is beyond anyone's power to break such promises. You surrender your free will regarding the matter. It's one of the reasons they're feared and hated more than me," Miss Newman explained. "Some criminals choose to avoid jail time by agreeing to such contracts to say they won't break whatever law they broke again, although the choice to sign such a contract is always up to them. There is nothing as binding as one of those contracts, and no one can force you to agree to one."
"But you agree," Wendy replied.
"I always end up agreeing," Miss Newman said with a nod. "It's for the best. People can't coerce me into giving information because of them. I really should start proactively making such agreements."
Wendy wanted to ask why the woman spent time designing spells she didn't ever want anyone to use, but they were already saying too much in public. She also wanted to know what Miss Newman's daughter got out of making these people sign these contracts. It was magic of some sort, scary magic that overrode free will. It sounded like making a deal with the devil. She could understand the distrust people must feel. Miss Newman had said her daughter was more important than her; being in control of unbreakable contracts seemed extremely important.
"Your daughter sounds intimidating," Charles remarked.
Miss Newman chuckled, then quietly recited what sounded like a children's song.
"#There is no place that you can hide, #The Wardens are already inside, #Fiery Rage crying for loved ones lost, #The Sea knows who you love the most, #Be glad that Death is dead, #As you face the monster beneath your bed, #Know the rules you cannot break, #Because everyone must sleep before they wake."
"A simple rhyme meant to scare both children and adults. I don't think my daughter entirely disapproves of being referred to as the monster under your bed, but that verse refers to her specifically," Miss Newman explained.
"Isn't there anything pleasant where you come from?" Wendy groaned.
"Everywhere has its good and its bad. My children and grandchildren would be miserable here, cut off from their technology and so many other things they are familiar with," Miss Newman answered. "Finish your food. We are still in the direction they are searching, and they can still chance upon us."
How do you keep three kids occupied on a drive through Nebraska?
"#My Little Pony, My Little Pony #Ahh, ahh, ahh, ahhh…
#My Little Pony #I used to wonder what friendship could be #My Little Pony #Until you all shared its magic with me
#Big adventure #Tons of fun #A beautiful heart #Faithful and strong #Sharing kindness! #It's an easy feat
#And magic makes it all complete
#You have my little ponies #Do you know you're all my very best friends?"
Wendy gave Charles a long-suffering look as he sang along with the song.
He grinned sheepishly at her. "What? It's a catchy song."
Wendy rubbed her head and leaned back. Miss Newman had a lot of videos saved on that tablet of hers. Among those was a cartoon series based on the adventures of some ponies from another world, ponies who were real people— or maybe aliens. That made these cartoons technically educational. Wendy was doing her best to follow along, even if she couldn't see the screen, but she was getting very tired of that theme song.
"Why are these ponies important again?" Wendy asked as she listened to the ponies getting ready for some dance or party at the castle. Most of the episodes had been mundane things like that, with some hijinks and lessons mixed in. It was safe enough content for kids but didn't seem to be teaching any meaningful history if that was the purpose of the cartoon.
"These are very abridged to remove prohibited information— certain villains they fought or certain actions that were taken. So a number of their more important adventures never made it to the show. A very sanitized version of events made even more kid-friendly where they could," Miss Newman explained. "It still has some valuable life lessons, and if I remember correctly, the next two episodes after this one does have them confronting a major threat, Discord."
"Do you know Twilight Sparkle?" Charlotte asked.
"I know Twilight, and I've met Rarity. I've only seen the rest in passing," Miss Newman answered. "I get along fine with Twilight these days, but Rarity and I don't care much for one another."
"Why not?" Charlotte asked. "She's pretty and nice."
"I insulted her qualifications as a mage, and she insulted mine. We've never really gotten around to apologizing to each other for it," Miss Newman explained.
"She doesn't seem that special a mage," Andrea said as she watched. "She just floats stuff around and makes dresses."
"She's gotten much better over the years, able to outperform what Twilight could do early on, although Twilight is well beyond mustache spells now, and she is magically powerful enough to crush me like an ant if I ever had to go toe to toe with her, but she's still a seamstress at heart," Miss Newman said dismissively. "She and my eldest daughter get along well. They both enjoy fashion. Fashion isn't my thing."
"She's pretty and nice, and you should make up," Charlotte insisted.
"I'll admit that she has a pleasant curve to her flank and gorgeous fur and mane, all of which I could happily sit admiring, and the cartoon does no justice, and I'm sure she is a very pleasant mare once you get to know her, but I'm not going to go out of my way to track her down and apologize."
Charles stiffened in his seat. "Wait...are you attracted to her?! Are you afraid to talk to her because she's pretty?!"
"Charles!" Wendy hissed.
"What?" Charles asked, clueless.
Kristin started rhythmically clapping. "Miss Newman and Rarity sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n….wait… Charlotte and Miss Newman are the same person."
"Charlotte likes girls!" Andrea announced and started laughing.
"I don't! Stop being mean!" Charlotte yelled while starting to cry.
Wendy wanted to strangle her husband. Charlotte was probably years away from any such realization, and this would make her feel all the stuff Miss Newman felt growing up. They were supposed to head this off, so it didn't become a problem. Now how were they supposed to deal with it?
She looked back and saw Miss Newman was sitting with a stone face, not saying anything, and Wendy could imagine the woman was trying to conceal her anger. Charlotte was crying, even though Andrea and Kristin had stopped and seemed to have realized they'd done something wrong.
Wendy took a deep breath, still unsure what she was going to say. "Andrea and Kristin, that is your baby sister you're laughing at. I'm not saying who she likes, but I am saying that it's your job to stand up for her. If when she is older, she decides she likes girls, it's your job to be happy for her and to punch anyone in the face who would dare pick on your little sister for it."
"Well, maybe not punch them in the face. That might be going too far, but still defend her," Charles suggested. "You would rather spend time with who she really liked than try to fake liking someone else because she was afraid of what people would say, right? Do you want to force your little sister to be unhappy?"
"No, I don't want to force her to do that," Andrea replied, crestfallen.
"Me either," Kristin replied in a small voice.
"But I don't like girls!" Charlotte protested.
"Miss Newman does," Kristin muttered, then went wide-eyed and held up her hands defensively. "I'm not picking! I'm just pointing it out!"
Miss Newman finally stirred. "And like magic, I think this is a subject Charlotte isn't ready for. How about you drop it?"
"Okay," the two older girls chorused.
Miss Newman turned her attention to Charles. "And to answer the question with full honesty and dignity, I'm attracted to many people, both humans and ponies, but that doesn't impact my dealings with them. I haven't been on so much as a date in seventeen years. The reason I don't seek Rarity out is that she literally lives in another universe, and I'm not going trekking across that kind of divide just to give an apology for being rude. If it will make everyone feel better, next time I see Twilight, I will ask her to pass along my apologies to the fashionista."
Kristin, who had the computer in her lap, frowned. "We missed most of the episode."
Miss Newman reached over and did something. "We can't have that. Let me restart it for you. That episode has Rarity getting treated like garbage by her date."
"That's not vindictive or anything," Charles remarked.
"She's dating Blueblood in this episode; Blueblood's a creep that she should be glad she didn't hit it off with. The bastard wanted to seize large swaths of the US as an Equestrian protectorate," Miss Newman replied.
They sat listening to the cartoon for a long time after that. Nebraska wasn't a particularly thrilling location to drive through, and the sounds of pony hijinks were a welcome distraction. Wendy had listened carefully during the Discord episodes. As a cartoon villain, he was...a cartoon villain, but when you considered him a real creature capable of what he could do in the cartoon, he was terrifying. The same could be said when they later listened to the episodes involving the pony Sombra.
"Who's that other princess, the dark one?" Andrea asked as they crossed the state line back into Colorado.
"That's Luna," Miss Newman replied.
"Why does she never say anything?" Andrea repeated.
"Because this cartoon took out most of their adventures involving her. The government censors didn't like the subject matter," Miss Newman answered. "And no, I won't tell you why."
"Is she mean?" Charlotte asked.
Miss Newman shook her head. "She can be a little harsh sometimes, but she's a good mare. She's my mentor."
Charlotte gasped with excitement. "You've got a princess for a teacher like Twilight Sparkle?"
Miss Newman sighed. "She teaches me a little, but she's mainly concerned with my personal development, trying to help me be the best pony I can be. Although, I have heard she isn't above bragging about my skills and knowledge. It's nice to be recognized."
"How'd you end up with that arrangement?" Wendy asked. "You didn't mention it last night."
Miss Newman was quiet for a moment before answering, which was never a good sign.
"I hit rock bottom. Everyone was afraid I was going to do something to hurt myself. They did an intervention, and part of that intervention was having her come in and start helping me believe I was worth a damn. I had to start sending her weekly friendship lessons. Luna has a soft spot for helping people with checkered pasts turn themselves around. The other princesses have sympathy for such ponies, but Luna has empathy. She sees herself in us."
"What kind of past? What did you do?" Charlotte asked, barely above a whisper.
Miss Newman looked at her. "I was a fool. A fool who believed foolish things. A fool who got a lot of people hurt. A fool who got a lot of people killed, including someone very important to me that I loved. I still cry about it, and it will never stop hurting. You don't want to be like me, child. Learn your friendship lessons now, and keep them in your heart. Maybe then you won't have to go through what I did. Maybe then there won't be ponies that hate you so much they are willing to go back into the past just to try to murder you as a child. I'm going to keep you safe, girl, but you need to do better."
"Is anything ever good with you?" Wendy asked in exasperation.
"Just my friends and family," Miss Newman answered. "At the end of the day, they're safe and happy, and despite everything, they love and treasure me. I love being a daughter, a sister, a mother, an aunt, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, a friend, a student, and a mentor. I love seeing them celebrate the big moments in their lives. I love seeing them find love. I love seeing them pursue what they love. I even love seeing them getting into mischief. I am always ready to cheer them on, give them a shoulder to cry on, or give advice when they feel lost. Being one of the greatest mages is nowhere near as important as being loved and giving my love. That is what gives me value."
"Have you ever saved anyone?" Charlotte asked. Wendy knew why. Miss Newman had said she had gotten people killed.
"A few," Miss Newman answered. "And by the end of this week, it will be a few more."
It was nearly two in the morning when they pulled back up to their house. Charles felt relief to see it was still standing and no one had attempted to burn it down. The girls were all asleep, as was Miss Newman. Wendy woke, but looked absolutely exhausted as he turned the car off.
He looked up and down the street. "It doesn't look like anyone is sitting around, waiting for us to come back. That's a good sign."
Wendy nodded. "Let's get the kids up. You're too tired to be trying to carry each of them to bed."
Charles let off a half-hearted chuckle. "Maybe we should have Miss Newman do it. It might make up for some of her doom and gloom monologues."
"I heard that," Miss Newman said, even though she didn't open her eyes. "You should hear my eldest—the grandmaster of monologues. Then again, she might get it from me. I'm not carrying anyone. I'm exhausted. I need a full day's sleep to recover."
"We'll happily let you," Wendy replied. "You're welcome to your old bed. Charlotte will sleep with us tonight. I feel better keeping her close. Can you rouse the girls? The quicker we get inside, the quicker we can all sleep."
"I'll get to sleep after I check the wards I left," Miss Newman replied. She then turned and shook the children gently. "Wake up; you're home."
Charles turned fully to look at her. "What wards?"
Miss Newman pointed vaguely towards the roof. "I left a bunch of wards in your ceiling the other day during my first visit. Pain in the ass, teleporting blindly from the bathroom and trying to avoid spiders. I hate spiders."
"What do they do?" Charles asked, wishing she had mentioned them earlier. He knew he had heard something moving around up there that day.
Miss Newman waved it off. "Oh, not much. It alerts me if anything magical other than me comes through the house. I look at them, see if anything is disturbed; it is like spreading sand to see who leaves footprints. You might want to have Kristin wait a moment before going into the house. I don't think she'd set off anything, weak as she is, but I don't want any false readings."
Charles sighed. It was always something with Miss Newman. Did it matter whether they'd been here if they weren't here now? He didn't know, but he passed her the keys. "Go ahead of us and check. I need to get the girls and the pets anyway."
She took the keys and headed to the front door. The girls were groaning and stretching, and moaning that they wanted to go back to sleep.
"What are we going to do about the girl's school?" Wendy asked. "I don't see them going back tomorrow, but do we keep them home all week? I don't like the idea of them being out of our sight with those ponies hunting Charlotte. What about your work?"
He shook his head. "I should go in like normal; we need the income. As for the girls… we'll keep them at home tomorrow and figure out something after that. I don't know yet, and we're too tired to think straight right now."
They were getting the girls out of the car when Miss Newman returned.
She handed him the keys. "You've had visitors, but not the magical kind. They're gone, but they left a mess. Brace yourself when you walk into the house. It will be a shock."
That didn't sound good. He looked at Wendy. "Stay here with the kids. I'm going to have a look."
Wendy nodded and pulled Kristin close to her. Andrea was at the car's rear, being helpful by unloading Cinnamon's cat carrier. Charlotte hadn't gotten out yet. Miss Newman began looking up and down the street for potential threats.
Miss Newman had turned on the lights and left them on. When he stepped into the house, he found it had been ransacked. All the couch cushions had been pulled out. Papers and mail had been gone through and tossed on the floor. Books had been pulled from shelves and also tossed to the floor. As he advanced further in, he saw that the hall closet had everything pulled out and heaped in a pile on the floor, and boxes within it had been opened and their contents overturned.
He decided to check the bedrooms. First was his and Wendy's. It was in the same state as the living room. The mattress on the bed had been flipped over, everything from. The closet had been pulled out and rifled through, as had the dresser's contents, even having the drawers pulled out of it. He advanced to the girls' rooms and found the same had happened in each of those rooms. Even pictures hanging on the walls had been pulled down.
When he made it to the kitchen, he saw the backdoor had been forced open, and the doorframe and lock were now busted. Every cabinet had been opened, and contents had been thrown about as the invaders had searched the house. Nothing seemed to have been stolen. Whoever had broken in hadn't been there to rob them. They'd been searching for something.
So much for getting sleep.
He went back out to the car. "You might want to take the kids and go down to the Westoffs' house for the night. I know it will frighten them to have someone knocking on their door at this hour, but we can't sleep here tonight. I'm going to call the police and report the break-in. Once I'm done with them, I'll join you. I guess I will be calling out from work in the morning."
Miss Newman had walked to the edge of the yard and returned. "Keep your gun close."
He raised an eyebrow at her. "You notice something?"
She shook her head. "No, but I still prefer safe over sorry if you're going to be waiting here by yourself for the cops. I'll help you bring the pets in and then join the others. I prefer to be out of sight when the police arrive."
"I'll let the Westoffs know you two are coming," Wendy said as she began shepherding the kids in the right direction.
He took the car carrier inside, and Miss Newman followed with Pretty's cage. Once they were inside and the front door was closed, he released Cinnamon. The cat didn't take off for a hiding place this time, but walked around sniffing things with his tail bristled.
Miss Newman put Pretty's cage in place then removed its covering. The bird didn't seem to know her like Cinnamon did and kept quiet as she opened the cage door to remove his water bowl and food bowl. She refilled the water, and Charles was about to tell her where the birdseed was kept when she went to it without needing to be informed. With both filled, she started picking through the debris.
Charles took that as a reminder that he needed to feed the cat and went to the kitchen to do so. He pushed the backdoor closed and propped a chair against it to keep it from swinging open. He found the cat food, and Cinnamon came running in like a bat out of hell at the sound of his bowl being refilled.
When he returned to the living room to make the call, he found Miss Newman was sitting on the ground, leafing through a Doctor Suess book, face nostalgic. He noted which one and grimaced.
"I have a grudge against that book," he said. "Charlotte sent me to the hospital because of that thing."
Miss Newman smiled. "I don't remember the incident, but I remember being told about it. Hop on Pop, you can't blame a child for taking instructions literally. I don't think I ever properly apologized for that. I'm sorry I did that."
"Charlotte did that, not you," he reminded her.
She carefully set the book down and stood up. "Any action she took before this past week was my action as well. Therefore, I can apologize for it." She looked around and sighed. "It hurts, seeing one of my childhood homes in this state. I'm glad she and the other girls aren't seeing this."
That reminded him of something. "You implied we did move to Florida in your version of events. How'd the move go?"
She shrugged. "Well enough, I suppose. I don't recall anything bad about it, other than we lived in a pretty crummy mobile home. We were there for four years and moved on to South Carolina. I believe you got a better job offer or something. You were certainly making more money. The house in South Carolina was nice, two stories, four bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, and a big two car garage. Even in the ninties, something like that was really pricey. You and Mom stayed in South Carolina until a little after I married and had my child, then you returned to Colorado. Andrea and Kristin had moved to different places by that time, Kristin was finishing her law degree at Yale, and Andrea was in DC. I lost track of everyone for many years after that, so I'm sorry I can't give more details. One of these days, I'll get around to asking them what all happened in those intervening years."
The older woman walked to the front door and glanced back. "Enough of me monologuing, make that call. I'm going to go join the rest of your family."
She left, and he took a deep breath before calling the police. It took several minutes for them to take down the details over the phone. He almost shouted at them when they told him they would send someone by in the morning to come check it out. The intruders weren't there, and no one seemed to be in immediate danger, so they didn't think it worth the time to come out in the dead of night. Useless police officers, they didn't give a damn about this neighborhood.
He hung up the phone and looked around at the wreckage on the floor, wondering if he should start to clean up. No, it was late, he was tired, and Wendy would worry if he took too long. He made one more trip to the backdoor to make sure the chair was jammed against it well enough the cat couldn't wedge it open, and then he walked back out front and excited, locking the door behind him.
The burnt remains of Miss Newman's house caught his eye, and he stood looking at them for a minute. They weren't out of danger yet, and that could still be them. He wasn't sure it would be over even when the ponies, including Miss Newman, returned to their time.
He grunted. Good job in South Carolina that had his family living comfortably? He would need to start looking into that.
"Awww! But why do they get to stay home and we have to go to school? It ain't fair!"
"Because they had a very trying night. Don't argue with me."
Wendy woke up, slightly disoriented and wondering who was speaking. She was on the floor, with a blanket draped over her. Charles was beside her, still asleep, and her daughters were just a short distance away, also sleeping. She was still trying to put together where she was when one of the Westoff children went hurrying by with a backpack on. Then she remembered. Still tired, she pulled her blanket tighter around her and drifted back off to sleep.
Wendy's eyes popped open to the sound of children screaming, and she hastily threw off her covers to protect them before a hand gripped her shoulder and stopped her.
"It's okay; it's okay. It's just your kids running around the yard," Joan Westoff assured her. "Nana is out keeping an eye on them."
Wendy glanced around, reminding herself again that she was in the Westoffs' house. Sunlight was coming through the windows, so it was daytime. There was no sign of Charles or Miss Newman.
"Where's my husband?" Wendy asked.
Joan pointed in the general direction of their house. "He's dealing with the cops, helping them fill out a report. Miss Newman woke up a while ago, but only to ask for somewhere with more privacy. Nana offered to let her sleep in her room while Nana watched the kids. That poor woman, having her house burned down and then dealing with a home invasion at your house. I'm surprised she hasn't had a heart attack. We thought it best to let her sleep."
Wendy could say some choice words about Miss Newman, but that wasn't advisable. "What time Is it?"
"Eleven," Joan answered. "I have some coffee ready if you want it. I figured you, Charles, and our unfortunate new neighbor would want some."
She nodded. "That sounds good. When Charles is done with the officers, I need to help him get the house back in order, at least well enough for the girls to sleep in their beds tonight. Have they been any trouble?"
Joan shook her head and waved the question away with a hand. "Oh, certainly not. Kids are resilient. Although they were telling some imaginative and wild stories to explain what happened."
Wendy froze and then forced herself to go back to moving naturally. "What kind of stories?"
"More tall tales about ponies. Kristin even claimed to have been turned into a pony. Clearly, she got better," Joan said with a chuckle. "On a more serious note, you should consider stopping them from watching that dreadful She-Ra cartoon. That has to be where they are getting this. You don't want them confusing fantasy for reality."
Where were the lines between those two anymore?
"If my daughters want to watch a cartoon about some fantasy hero when they have been through so much in the last few days, they are welcome to watch all they want. They need something hopeful."
Joan had the courtesy to look embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I know it must have been hard for them the last few days, between seeing their neighbor's house go up in flames and whatever happened to your house while you were gone. Let's get that coffee."
"Call me a little jumpy, but let me take a quick look to make sure my kids are alright first," Wendy said as she stood up.
"Of course," Joan replied. "maybe I should go see if Miss Newman is awake while you do."
Wendy paused, thinking about what the elder version of her daughter had said about being magically exhausted. "I think it best if you let her sleep. She's been through even more than me and the girls. Personally, I don't know how she's still walking around. Sheer force of will, I guess."
Joan smiled. "Never underestimate the elderly. They've gone through more than we can imagine and are still here to talk about it. Nana out there can still accomplish more around the house than I can. But if you think she needs her rest, I'll leave her be."
Your aged grandmother shouldn't have to be doing things around the house at her age, Wendy thought bitterly to herself. She'd always felt sorry for that older woman, doing chores around the house while Joan kicked back and relaxed.
Wendy went out the front door. The girls were not far from the front porch, playing tag, perhaps not the fairest game, since Andrea was bigger and faster than either of her sisters, but at least they weren't fighting.
"Don't worry. I've got an eye on them."
She turned and saw Nana sitting there. The older woman was in her eighties and looked like a shriveled-up prune, with thin white hair that looked like it hadn't been brushed in Wendy's lifetime. She looked frail like any impact would shatter some bone. Nana's eyes were still sharp, and they flicked periodically between the girls and the surrounding street.
"Your daughters tell such amazing stories," the old woman stated, not looking at Wendy.
"Children have good imaginations," Wendy said.
Nana nodded. "Indeed they do. I wish my granddaughter was not so quick to criticize her kids for telling wild stories. James said he saw a unicorn in a van the other day, and Joan wanted to ground the boy for it. Can you believe such a thing? I talked her out of it. She still listens to her Nana, at least sometimes."
Wendy took a deep breath. "I'm not one to be critical of how someone else raises their kids. Certainly not someone who is being kind enough to have let me stay the night."
Nana grunted. "I wonder if her letting you stay was a good idea. I honestly don't know. It was the right thing to do, but I wonder still."
Wendy blinked. "I'm sorry. We didn't mean to be a burden. We had nowhere else to go. We'll be gone before the day is out."
The older woman sighed. "Do you know what I did before I retired, girl?"
"Um...no, I can't say that Joan has ever told me," Wendy answered.
"I was a math teacher," Nana informed her. "Imagine my surprise when I found your youngest puzzling over a napkin that unmistakably had calculus on it, in addition to things I could not recognize. Children have such powerful imaginations to be dreaming up calculus equations, don't you think? And at six years old, no less."
"That was just something Miss Newman gave her to hush her up. It's nonsense," Wendy said quickly.
"I have never seen a child her age so invested in figuring out nonsense involving math, and I have met many many children," Nana replied. "She asked me to help her figure it out, but there were things about it that I didn't understand. I might be old, but I'm still capable of recognizing whether something is gibberish or if there is order to it, at least with math. I might not have understood everything on that napkin, but it wasn't gibberish, and no child cares so much about math unless they know for certain there is a reason to."
Wendy stiffened. "What are you getting at, ma'am?"
Nana looked her in the eyes. "That woman arrives in the neighborhood, and shortly after, someone burns her house down. Then she goes to you for help, and you vanish for a day, and while you are gone, someone raids your house. Now she is here, and I wonder what that means for my family. I wonder who I have sleeping in my bed right now and why she writes such strange things on napkins."
How am I supposed to answer that question? Wendy thought to herself.
She rubbed her cast with her free hand and looked back at the street. "I don't think I can give you a believable answer to that. This isn't about her, at least, not directly about her. You forgot the people that tried to run Charlotte and me down and what knocked us in the street before Miss Newman's house went up in flames."
Nana gave a slow nod. "I didn't but didn't think it connected. What is this all about?"
Wendy shook her head. "You would never believe me. No one would. We'll be gone as soon as Charles is done with the police. Hopefully, we haven't brought anything bad down on you and your family. Does anyone in your house have a gun?"
Nana shook her head.
"Well, be ready to defend yourself however you can, and keep your eyes on your windows and don't discount any crazy story the kids say."
Nana looked back at the girls playing. "Your girls tell crazy stories that Joan would never believe."
Wendy gave her a skeptical look. "But you do?"
Nana shrugged. "I don't know. I'm more open to believing them than my granddaughter. I have seen the world change so much in my life. It is hard to say anything is impossible anymore. I accept that there is more I don't understand than what I do. I won't condemn you, girl. You need to keep your family safe. I just hope you haven't endangered mine."
"I hope so too," Wendy said grimly, as she turned to go get her coffee.
Sunset Blessing, previously known as Charlotte Gilmore, before that Charlotte Portsmith, and now operating under the name Miss Newman, finally managed to separate herself from her nightmare and go lucid with her dreaming.
Since coming back in time, the nightmares had been intense. She was no stranger to nightmares. It was somewhat a miracle that she didn't suffer from some form of PTSD after all that she had endured in the past twenty-three years. Most of her nightmares were distorted versions of past events. In the past few days, she had found herself helplessly facing Royal Bearing as he tortured her granddaughter, unable to manage to stop him this time. She found herself surrounded by ponies doing horrible things to humans, all while they repeated things she had once said. She had also found herself on the smoke-filled streets of Riverview after the Cataclysm, often chased by the psychopath Poly Glot or watching as he slew her wife over and over again. Even the monstrous form of Bursa had featured in her nightmares, screaming about how Sunset was responsible for the beast's agonizing pain and existence.
So much pain, so much suffering. She knew she would never forget them. May God grant her forgiveness for her sins, for she could not forgive herself. Twilight wanted her to come to Equestria to get a fresh start teaching magic in Canterlot? Who would attend her dreams? Would Luna be able to maintain the same vigilance? She loved Luna, but the alicorn would never be able to make such a promise. She would stay on Earth.
What was different now was that she was in a time without the wardens to come to her aid when she was having a nightmare. It was rare that they would ever banish a nightmare, that was not their preferred way, but they would join her and help her confront and understand what she was experiencing. The first time sleeping in the past had hit her hard after being forced to confront her nightmares alone, and every time that followed had been its own unique form of torture.
At least she was free for the moment. Years of practice had given her some control of her dream state. Unfortunately, there was no one to reach out to here. There was no warden to hear her calls, no person with the power to commune with her.
Well, that was not entirely true. There was one. The first question was whether they were paying attention. The second was whether they would answer. The third was whether she even wanted to try speaking to them. The last question was whether they would even bargain with her if they did speak. Protecting her family was a tall order, which was made worse by her weakness. She needed an ace in the hole if everything else fell through, and there was only one being who could provide that in this time.
She mustered her courage and sent her plea into the abyss of the near vacant dream realm. The one she wished to reach might not be there. She had no actual knowledge of where they usually resided, only that they came in dreams back in her own time. The wardens were ever watchful during those visits, awaiting even the slightest excuse to repel the intruder. There were no wardens here, and once invited, there was no way of forcing the other away.
It was not long before she felt the overwhelming presence of who she sought.
No concrete form appeared, only two large eyes opening before her. "Greetings, traveler of time. I have been observing your presence for some time, but I hadn’t expected for you to know of me."
Miss Newman smiled, trying not to show her unease with how rude it was for the being not to create a more corporeal form for her to address. "In my time, I know you by the name Triss. How did you know I'm a time traveler?"
"That is a functional address for one with so limited a language," Triss said slowly. "I have seen how you think of yourself, how those other ponies speak of you, and how those humans address you. I see you, pony of many names. I have seen time travel before and the feel of another timeline in a person. You are the first such I have seen in a very long time. Tell me, how are we acquainted, and why do you seek me out?"
"In the future, I was imprisoned, and you beseeched others to petition for my freedom. You thought I was important if Earth was going to stand a chance versus what was to come. I may require aid soon and have come to ask for your help."
"Perhaps we could talk for a while first. It has been so long. The last being I spoke to was…." Triss began, then drifted off. "No, I should not become so invested in you. Your actions are of little consequence to the development of that world, and you're not going to be there long. I can feel how weak the spell holding you here is."
Miss Newman frowned. "Weak is a term very often applied to me; that is why I need your help."
"I’m not averse to assistance, but I do not know how I could help without making the situation you have found yourself in worse. This is only temporary for you; soon enough, you’ll all return to your own time. I don't want to interfere too much and draw earlier attention to that world. That is no favor; that is a death sentence."
"I don't ask for much, just a single surge of magical strength when I need it, just enough to cast a single spell," she clarified. "That shouldn't draw much attention, and I know you have the power to grant me this."
"I do, but you haven't said what you're offering for this. I usually only act to advance my goals, even when the actions are small. Endless eons and unnumbered destroyed worlds have taught me caution. How do you help me?"
She looked the being directly in the eyes. "The Dreamwardens in my time—"
"Dreamwardens, as in more than one?" Triss interrupted, sounding confused.
"Yes, there are six," she answered hesitantly.
Something akin to amusement could be seen in Triss's eyes. "Such a strange turn of events that my eternal adversary should become split into six. So now I may be cursed fivefold more times. At least it will be that many more to speak with. We are adversaries, not enemies. They are not the result of the primordial I feel slowly forming now, are they?"
"The primordial Dreamwarden does not finish spawning. Their emergence made it cease to be. There was no need for it anymore; the role was filled," she answered. "My eldest daughter, my deceased wife, and the deceased biological mother of my adopted foals are all counted among their number."
"Quite the powerful connections you have. However, the wardens have a different definition of death than you mortals do. How far in the future do you come from?" Triss asked.
"Sixty Earth years."
Triss's shock was so high that Miss Newman could physically feel it wash over her.
"You were not lying to them about your identity? I had thought it impossible. It being a lie seemed the only way to explain it."
"I'm not lying. I'm who I say I am. In less than twenty years, there's going to be a traveler from another dimension, Sunset Shimmer, who comes here and is going to accelerate the rate magic develops on this planet exponentially."
"Very curious that your planet could advance so far in such a short period. I was expecting thousands of your years at least. Magic is in its infancy there, barely registering to our enemies to draw their attention. Outside interference would explain that rapid growth. This world does have an occasional leak that could be exploited to reach it. Earth shall bear special attention then. Proceed with your offer. You have even more of my curiosity now."
She nodded. "The Dreamwardens in my time have concocted a plan to ensure your mutual enemies cannot destroy Earth. It is a last resort plan, a desperation measure, for if everything else fails, but it could grant you the victory you seek. You would have decades more time to prepare than they do."
Triss sat silent for several seconds, and Miss Newman held her breath.
"You have your bargain, pony of many names. When you are in dire need, I will grant you the power you seek, just one time, no more."
Miss Newman bowed her head. "Thank you, Triss."
Triss's eyes became more intense. "Now, speak to me of this plan and what it entails. I have waited too long for a victory."
Miss Newman walked out onto the Westoffs' front porch to check on the kids. She wanted to fume at the younger versions of her parents for leaving the girls with neighbors while they cleaned the house. Until the danger passed, none of the three should ever be more than a room or two away. Yes, Miss Newman was at the Westoffs' at the moment, but she had been fast asleep when they left. What were the Westoffs supposed to do if someone came and tried to hurt or kidnap the children while she was sleeping?
To be fair, what was she supposed to do if she was awake? She was currently magically exhausted, which made her practically useless. Why did she always end up doing that to herself? One of these days, she was going to burn her magic out if she wasn't careful. Starlight claimed she wasn't weak, that she instead had a mental block that limited her magic usage. She liked Starlight. Starlight was a good friend, but Starlight didn't know what the hell she was talking about. Starlight didn't feel what she felt when she overextended herself. At least her human magic still worked, but that didn't give her any ability other than spotting ponies at a distance, at least in practical application.
At least she had managed to arrange for herself a final hail Mary play if things went badly.
"Dumbest magical genius ever," she muttered to herself for having put herself in this position.
"You sound like a woman who is being too hard on herself."
She jumped at the voice and turned to see the Westoffs' elderly grandmother sitting calmly on a porch swing on the far side of the porch, looking thoughtfully at her.
The older woman patted a hand on the seat next to her on the swing. "Come, sit with old Nana. The children are fine. They're playing like perfectly normal kids. I've been watching them. I've also been keeping an eye on the street. I've wanted to talk to you. The children tell such fantastic stories."
She turned to check the girls. They were indeed playing. A further examination of the street didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary. It seemed safe for the moment.
"I suppose I can sit for a few minutes," Miss Newman said as she joined the older woman on the porch swing.
As soon as she sat down, the older woman gripped her face and started examining it.
She jerked her head out of the wrinkly hands. "Excuse you, what are you doing?"
The older woman looked at her with a frown. "I suppose you could be…. You have the same shape to the face, the exact curve of the nose, hair color is a match. Even without what the children said, I would be confident you were a close relative."
"You should take what children say with a grain of salt," Miss Newman replied.
Nana nodded. "Yes, but that doesn't mean I need to be dismissive. Tell me, what do you do for work?"
"I'm retired," Miss Newman answered as she rubbed her cheeks.
"And before you retired?" Nana prompted.
Miss Newman narrowed her brow. "I was a mayor and a preacher."
Nana blinked. "A female preacher and mayor? You're quite the feminist."
"Once upon a time, I was. I stopped thinking of myself that way long ago, but I suppose I might represent that still," Miss Newman replied.
Nana nodded. "So tell me, what do you use calculus for as a preacher or mayor?"
That seemed an odd question. "I didn't. Why are you asking?"
"Charlotte has a napkin. It has calculus on it and things I don't understand," Nana answered.
That napkin needed to be destroyed. It was a mistake writing a spell on it. She also needed to have a very stern talk with the children about what they said to people. Most would discount it as kids saying the strangest things, but apparently, some listened. Nana was no one of importance, but every believer was one too many.
"It's nothing. Just something to occupy the child. She is too curious about me," Miss Newman replied.
Nana gazed at her, unblinking. "If what she says is true, I wouldn't blame her."
"It's just wild ideas she has, nothing more," Miss Newman said firmly.
"About the ponies?" Nana asked.
Miss Newman nodded. "Wild ideas about ponies and me. A lot has been happening to her lately. She is creating a fantasy to process it."
Nana nodded. "A reasonable explanation, except it is a lie. I didn't mention it to my granddaughter or Wendy, but I saw more than they did the other night. I saw what knocked Wendy and Charlotte into the street. I saw what was in your door when they were saved from that car. I thought I might be imagining things, but then the children began to tell such stories. They seem so fantastical, but I have not gone senile in my old age and started seeing things that aren't there."
Miss Newman sat stunned, unsure what to say or do. She knew her silence was damning, but she didn't have a lie to counter this.
"Will I live to see such things?" Nana asked.
It took her a second to process that. "I have no way of knowing that for sure. If I had to be honest, I would guess no. Your age…"
Nana looked down, nodding sadly. "I thought as much. The future seems so far away until it sits beside you on a porch swing. I will not speak to anyone about this but make sure my family stays out of this, Charlotte. That is all I care about."
Miss Newman watched the children play and gave the faintest of nods. "I'll do my best, Nana."
Wendy sat, getting the pots back into the kitchen cupboards. Charles had already swept up the broken and shattered plates and glasses from the kitchen. The living room was still a wreck, but the girls' rooms were merely messy. It would take another few hours of work to get everything back in order and another few days to fix the back door.
Some things couldn't be put back in order. Earlier she had held the fragments of a plate that Andrea had crafted for her back when Andrea was in kindergarten. It was a small thing, but it had left Wendy crying as she held it. She'd gathered up the pieces and insisted that she was going to superglue it back together. She'd done the same for a coffee cup that Charlotte had made her and an ashtray that Kristin had made. There were family pictures that had been torn and family heirlooms destroyed. None of these things were expensive, but their value had gone beyond dollars, and they were irreplaceable.
Her daughters were all alive and healthy, that was what was important, but it didn't make it any easier seeing all that had been lost. Just because the worst hadn't happened didn't make dealing with what had happened instead any easier.
After sticking the last pot back in place, she stood up. Charles was working at getting the living room in order. The girls were supposed to be cleaning their rooms. She didn't know what Miss Newman was currently doing and didn't have the energy to care. The older woman might have been asleep again since she complained several times about needing to rest and recover, stating she was still magically exhausted.
Dinner would have to be prepared soon, but Wendy didn't have the willpower for that. Working with one hand turned an easy task into a challenging one. Maybe she could find Miss Newman and draft the woman into making dinner since the woman hadn't helped at all with cleaning. She didn't know for sure if Miss Newman could cook, but it seemed like Wendy would have taught each of her daughters how to cook at some point in the future. Miss Newman might be from a different timeline, but that much should be the same. Miss Newman had also said she had four or five children of her own. It stood to reason she would have cooked for her kids.
Wendy briefly wondered what those grandkids she would never have were like. She'd seen Mèng in the video, and he seemed to be a tech nerd. Phobia had been mentioned a few times with comments about how Phobia was more important than Miss Newman, although a real explanation why had never been given or even a description of Phobia's personality. It didn't matter. Phobia would never be, so there was no use trying to learn about her.
Not sure what to do now, she wandered into Andrea and Kristin's room to see how cleaning up their room was progressing. It didn't surprise her at all to find they weren't cleaning like they were supposed to be. Andrea was shoving everything into piles around the outskirts of the room, and Kristin was playing with her Intellivision again.
Charlotte's door was open, and she spotted both Charlotte and Miss Newman in that room. There was no cleaning going on there either, not that Charlotte's room was ever clean. It looked like the two were playing with Charlotte's toys. Wendy felt no need to intercede with that. Miss Newman was putting Charlotte at ease, and if anyone knew how to entertain Charlotte, it would be Charlotte's older self.
Rather than fuss at them for not doing what they were told to do, Wendy pulled the chair from the girls' desk over beside Kristin and sat down.
"What game are you playing?" Wendy asked, feigning interest.
Kristin glanced at her then back to the screen. "It's Lock 'n' Chase. My guy is a bank robber trying to avoid the cops."
Wendy looked at the screen. "It looks like Pacman."
"It's kinda like Pacman, but we don't have Pacman," Kristin said with a shrug. Then she seemed worried she'd said something wrong. "This is still fine. I don't need Pacman. This is good enough. It's funner than Pacman."
"It's a dumb game!" Andrea called out.
"You just don't like that the cops are bad guys in it," Kristin yelled back. "It's just a game."
"Please, don't fight," Wendy pleaded with them, not having the emotional fortitude to deal with that at the moment. She just wanted to spend some time with her daughters. "Do you have something that is two players, Kristin? Something I can play with you?"
Kristin looked at Wendy's cast. "Yeah, but you kinda need two hands to work the control… sorry."
"I understand," Wendy replied. "Is everything okay? I mean, do you feel any different since you were a little pony?"
"I wasn't little; everything else was big," Kristin asserted. She then grumbled some more as her robber got caught in the game.
"It's all perspective," Wendy replied absently. "But you are feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," Kristin replied as she started another round of her game. "Um...Mom, you're distracting me."
"Sorry," Wendy said contritely. Having been rebuffed, she got up and turned her attention to Andrea.
Andrea was still shoving things into piles but noticed Wendy's approach. "Don't be mad. I'm going to pick the stuff up. I just want space to sit and walk around."
"I'm not mad," Wendy said as she sat down next to her eldest. "I know I've been focused on your sisters lately. I don't mean to ignore you. How are you doing?"
Andrea sat down and bit her lip. "I'm okay. I get it. Charlotte is the one the bad guys want, and there're two of her now. Kristin turned into a pony for a while; that's a big deal. I'm the only one who doesn't have problems."
Wendy placed her hand gently on her daughter's back. "We all are going through a lot right now. It's been a terrifying experience, and I think every one of us needs some support— your sisters, your father, you, and me."
The girl picked up a Star Wars toy and tossed it into the toy bin. "Everybody has stuff to worry about. I don't want to be selfish."
"It's not being selfish," Wendy said as she pulled Andrea in for a hug. "Your needs are just as important as everyone else's."
The hug did it. Andrea slumped against her and started crying. She didn't say anything; she just leaned into her mother and wept. Kristin turned and looked at them and sat watching.
Charlotte came to her doorway and looked in. "What's wrong with Andrea?"
"Don't worry. She just needs a moment," Wendy assured her. "You can keep playing. Why don't you close your door and give her a little privacy?"
"Come, child," Miss Newman instructed as she guided Charlotte back into the room. She started to close the door but paused to look at Kristin. "It might be good if you came in here. The game will be there later. Would you like to come play with your sister and me?"
Kristin hesitated, then nodded. She took a few seconds to turn her game system and TV off and then exited into Charlotte's room. Miss Newman shut the door behind them.
"I'm sorry. I'm being a big baby. Charlotte and Kristin aren't crying," Andrea muttered.
Wendy rubbed the back of Andrea's head. "Believe me; I want to cry. One of the benefits Charlotte and Kristin have are they are younger, and younger kids have the ability to push worry about things out of their minds easier. I think Charlotte is too caught up in Miss Newman to worry about anything else. It's harder to tell with Kristin. She's more aware than Charlotte, and the stress is hitting her in its own way. That entire incident with the necklace was her way of acting out against the stress. You're older; you have more awareness and ability to think about implications and everything else. That's got its downsides, especially when going through what we are. It can get overwhelming. You don't need to be embarrassed if you need to cry."
Andrea sniffled. "I'm sorry I didn't say Miss Newman was Charlotte before Kristin did. I figured it out first. I saw her birthmark right before she changed to flatten those guys' tires when we were getting ready to leave the house before. She told me not to say anything. She said it would be a distraction. Kristin and Charlotte didn't see it until later."
"I'm not sure I disagree with her about it being a distraction," Wendy muttered. "I certainly wish Charlotte didn't know."
"Is Miss Newman bad?" Andrea asked.
Wendy considered it. "I don't think she's a bad person. I think she cares a lot about us, and she wants to protect us, but she's a dangerous person. The things she has said about her life, and the fact that there are people that hate her so much that they're willing to go back and time and hurt her as a kid, it's all… I don't know what to think. She said those ponies had originally broken into her house to try to kill her, and they didn't care if they got captured or killed doing it. I don't understand what could make someone hate her that much, and I don't know if I want to understand."
"She seems too weak to be a great mage. None of the unicorns on the show get worn out really easy like she does. Even Rarity could kick her butt," Andrea remarked.
"Great and powerful are two different things," Wendy reminded her. "She might be old and weak, but enough ponies seem to care enough about her that they're willing to ruin our lives over it. I think that's an important thing for you to remember. Being small and weak doesn't mean you can't make a difference or be important. I know you might feel that way sometimes. Like you don't matter just because you're a kid, but you do."
"But I can't do anything!" Andrea insisted, crying again.
Wendy sat and considered what to say. "I have something for you to do, and it is very important."
Andrea looked up at her. "What?"
Wendy took a deep breath. "You spend more time with Kristin than any of us. Miss Newman says that there's a side-effect of putting that necklace on. Kristin has magic in her now, and it isn't going to go away. Miss Newman says it might grow with time. She said she thinks it will take years if it does, but she didn't say that for sure, and she couldn't say what form it would take. I need you to pay attention and tell me if there is ever anything weird about Kristin. You're doing this to protect her. If she starts developing magic, people might want to hurt her or take her away. We need to know about it first, before anyone else, so we can keep it a secret. Don't ever let Kristin make you keep it a secret from us if something happens, and don't let anybody from outside the family find out, no matter how close of a friend they are. We need you to help us protect your little sister."
"Does Kristin know?" Andrea asked.
"No, she doesn't," Wendy answered, shaking her head. "I'm going to pull her aside later and have a talk about it after this whole thing with the ponies is done. Only me, Miss Newman, your father, and now you know. Keep it to yourself. I'm only telling you because I know you can help us keep an eye on her. Don't treat her any different. She is still your little sister. Just keep your eyes open. I know you're good at picking up on little details, so you might notice first if anything happens. It is essential; your sister's life could depend on you noticing."
"I'll pay attention. You can count on me," Andrea assured her.
Wendy hugged her again. "I know I can. I love you."
"Love you too, Mom."
She released her daughter and stood up. "I'll let you get back to cleaning. I need to think about dinner."
"Okay, Mom."
Wendy turned to go, but her foot caught one of the piles, causing her to trip. She tried to correct herself, but her free arm was on the wrong side to catch anything, and she ended up overcorrecting, falling in an even more awkward stumble. She yelped as pain lanced up her ankle through her leg.
"Mom!" Andrea shouted in dismay as she hurried over beside her.
The pain hadn't subsided, but Wendy gestured for Andrea to keep her distance. "I'm okay, just a little trip. Let me get back u...ahh!" Putting any pressure on her ankle caused the pain to intensify dramatically. Had she just sprained her ankle? Was she going to be down both an arm and a leg for the duration? How much more useless could she get? "Go get your father."
Andrea didn't need to be told twice. She hurried out her door into the kitchen. "Dad! Mom fell, and she's hurt!"
She was sitting for only a second or two before Miss Newman hurried through the other door, barking quick orders to Kristin and Charlotte to stay in the other room. Charles wasn't far behind her, having cut through Charlotte's room as well. Despite being behind Miss Newman at the start, he was the first to reach Wendy.
"What happened??" Charles asked as he bent down beside her.
Wendy winced in pain. "I twisted my ankle, tripping over the girls' toys. I think I might have sprained it."
Miss Newman bent down quickly and shoved in. "Let me see. I may not be a doctor, but I have a lot of experience dealing with household injuries for both humans and ponies. Which leg is it?"
"This one," Wendy said as she tried to move it, then hissed in pain.
"Pointing at it would have been good enough," Miss Newman said tersely as she started taking Wendy's shoe off. That only made Wendy wince more.
"I've only got one arm to hold myself up with!" Wendy shouted in frustration.
"Apologies. I was too focused on the leg, and that slipped my mind," Miss Newman said hurriedly. "I'm going to move it a little. It may hurt. I'm sorry for that, but I need to see its range of movement and how much pain moving it causes."
"The girls were supposed to be picking this all up!" Charles growled.
"Don't be mad at— AHHH!" Wendy yelled as Miss Newman shifted the ankle.
Miss Newman instantly withdrew her hands. "It's definitely sprained and badly."
"Another doctor's visit then," Charles said with a sigh.
Miss Newman shook her head. "No, it just needs to be braced, and she needs to stay off it. That's all they will say, so save yourself the trip and money. You can get a brace at any pharmacy."
"Can't you just magic it better?" Charles asked.
"If my son were here, he could. He knows those kinds of mending spells and is strong enough to cast them. I'm not very well versed in them and am too weak to do them anyway," Miss Newman answered.
Wendy started crying. "What happens if we have to start running? Charles can't carry me and run."
"If that's what I have to do, then that's what I'll have to do," Charles said firmly.
"No! You leave me and protect the girls if it comes to that!" Wendy said harshly.
Miss Newman looked away. "There are two possible solutions I have, but you wouldn't like either of them."
"What are they?" Wendy asked, afraid to find out but looking for any answer.
The older version of her daughter met her eyes. "Option one, I put my necklace on you. That will leave you functional and healthy for the period it is on, although you'll make no progress on your recovery until it is off. The same concerns about Kristin would apply to you going forward."
"That seems extremely drastic; what's option two?" Charles asked.
"Something more drastic," Miss Newman said in a low voice. "Call it my nuclear option because it involves my last-ditch plan to protect you all if everything else fell apart."
"What is it?" Wendy asked in a whisper.
"I take you home with me, to my time," Miss Newman answered. "It would be a one-way trip because I couldn't bring you back. You'd be safe from those ponies and the bookies and would get the care you needed as well as the care Kristin will need in the future, but it would completely uproot you from your life here for good."
"You… you can do that?" Wendy asked in astonishment.
Miss Newman nodded. "I originally made this spell to rescue someone from dying but had to shelve it because rescuing that person would have had major negative repercussions on the timeline I took her from. Many people would have died if she didn't do what she did, millions, maybe billions. I couldn't deal with that much blood on my conscience or put it on hers. She'd hate me forever, and so would I."
"Would we have trouble with the government in your time?" Charles asked. "I can't think they'd be okay with extra younger versions of us showing up out of nowhere."
"Phobia and Amicus could help smooth it over. Amicus would find some legal civil rights loophole, she's good at that, and Phobia has a lot of political influence," Miss Newman answered. "Plus, the government would want to keep it quiet and probably just issue you new identities. They wouldn't want people to know time travel in any form was possible. It isn't too much worse than what I'll face when I go home anyway."
Wendy shared a look at her husband then looked at the older woman. "What are the chances those bookies keep harassing us after this week is up?"
Miss Newman shrugged. "I don't honestly know."
It was a big step, a huge step. It was drastic, but it was also her family's well-being that was on the line.
"Give us a few minutes alone. Charles and I need to discuss this. Then we need to talk about it with the girls. We can't just jump into it without discussing it and thinking about it."
"We can't seriously be considering doing this?" Charles asked as he helped his wife up onto Andrea's bed.
"Why shouldn't we?" Wendy countered. "We were considering moving anyway. We don't know what to do about Kristin and whatever powers she may develop. We also don't know if we are going to be safe once the ponies are gone."
"It's sixty years of culture and history we'll be skipping if we do this," Charles reminded her. "Moving to another state on the other side of the country is a culture shock, but this… can you imagine someone from the twenties being put into our time and being asked to function?"
"There might be a little adjustment period—" Wendy conceded.
"A little?! With how much Miss Newman has said changes, it is more like taking someone from the middle ages to our time."
Wendy frowned. "It isn't that bad. I saw the videos her son made, remember? It didn't look that futuristic or anything. It looked pretty mundane. Computers still looked like computers; houses still looked like houses; gardening still looked like gardening. Sure, it was a robot camera flying around, but that isn't that hard to wrap our heads around. We're already adjusting to the idea that a large part of the population is ponies, and that seems like the biggest thing."
"She did say the cars were mostly the same," Charles recalled. "Still, imagine how far behind in school the girls would be. There would be tons of things that others would consider basic information that they wouldn't have a clue about. The same goes for us. How are we going to find work if we have no job skills relevant to sixty years in the future?"
"The girls would adapt, probably better than us. As for us, there are always going to be jobs that don't require skilled labor," Wendy replied. "This is one of the few ways we can ensure our daughters' safety."
"What about those people that hate Miss Newman so much?" Charles countered. "These ponies that are chasing us are just the tip of that iceberg. We are going into the belly of the beast if we go into the future."
"New identities. They won't know who we are, so they won't care," Wendy countered.
Charles frowned. "What about your little sister and your mom? We help out with them occasionally. They'll be left to fend for themselves if we do this. You'll never see them again."
Wendy frowned. "That will just have to be then. We might run into the alternate version of my little sister in the future, although she'd have to be in her late seventies by then and my mom long since dead. I don't know how I feel about seeing the old versions of us, ponies in their twilight years."
Charles blinked. "I'd have to keep an eye on old me. He might try to trade old you in for the younger model."
Wendy couldn't help herself; she laughed. "Glad you can find something to joke about, although don't count old me out for wanting to get the younger model of you."
"You have a point. You get more beautiful every year, so sixty more years should make you irresistible," Charles said with a smirk.
Wendy gave him a flat look. "You do remember those versions of us are old talking horses, right? So old they're probably completely senile and take their dinners through a straw. That version of you might be an upgrade, though. I guess I'll have to keep my options open."
Charles chuckled.
The laughter died, and both looked down. "We're actually considering this," Wendy whispered.
"Are we really at that point of desperation?" Charles asked.
"I don't know," Wendy conceded. "But we knew things weren't working here even before all this insanity started. I'm not going to delude myself into thinking this will be gumdrops and rainbows, but it's a fresh start. Miss Newman has a powerful and rich family. She could help us get on our feet there better than anyone here could help us correct course."
"They are only that way because our girls did well," Charles said. "I think we corrected course pretty well if Miss Newman's sisters are the result."
"If you leave out that there are people that want our youngest daughter dead," Wendy said bitterly.
Charles looked his wife in the eyes. "Which brings up a real concern with this plan. If she is supposed to help us get back on our feet if we go there, doesn't that associate us with her? Are we just trading these current ponies who are after us for different ones if that is the case?"
"She said the whole family is prospering, so they must manage it," Wendy replied. "What I keep coming back to in my head is Kristin. I don't want her to end up as some government science experiment. If we go to the future, her having magic will be kinda normal. Maybe not normal-normal, but something people are familiar with and won't freak out about. She can have a normal life without worrying about hiding what she can do."
Charles let out a long breath. "This whole thing started with Charlotte, and now it's Kristin we need to worry about. Andrea gets the award for being the easy kid to deal with."
"She's going through a rough time too. I don't think she has it easy," Wendy replied. "We're telling her she has to have her whole life turned upside down because of her sisters, and she's not getting bitter about it. She deserves a medal for that."
"Yeah, we did good with her," Charles agreed. "I do wonder why Miss Newman waited until now to say this was an option— your right; it is easier to think of her as Miss Newman than Charlotte. I just can't see my little girl when I look at her."
"We're seeing an older adult who lived a very different life than our daughter will. Only one-eleventh of her life is the same," Wendy said as she looked in the direction of Charlotte's room. "She probably doesn't even remember most of the details from when she was our Charlotte."
"Except the cartoons and toys," Charles pointed out.
Wendy chuckled lightly. "Well, small kids have their priorities they pay attention to." She frowned. "I assume she didn't tell us because she didn't want to uproot us. She says she's really happy with how she grew up and didn't want to change things too much. I have to imagine explaining us to the government back in her time will be more of a headache for her than she's making it out to be."
"But Kristin had to go put on that necklace," Charles said mournfully.
"That does change all the equations," Wendy agreed. "I think she had to consider it as soon as it happened. That night was when she showed me those home movies, and she gave the girls those cartoons to watch yesterday. I think she was starting to prepare us. Honestly, it's kinda manipulative, in a way."
"But it's still up to us," Charles said, gripping Wendy's good hand.
The conversation was cut off by Andrea throwing open the door with a big slam. "Mom, Dad, come look at the TV! You need to see it now!" She immediately ran to Charlotte's door without breaking to take a breath. "Miss Newman! Look at the TV!"
"I can't hurry to the living room," Wendy said in a rush.
Charles headed for the girls' tv. "You don't need to. The reception might be blurry on this one, but it can still pick up the basic channels, and the audio is fine." He turned it on and started flipping the dial. "Why isn't it working."
Kristin came hurrying out of Charlotte's room and reached behind the television for something; a second later, the screen flipped to a newscast. "You had to take the RF switch back off video game."
Charles shook his head. "Okay, I don't know what that means, but thanks."
"It's the little box thingie! The thing that caught fire last year and you had to replace," Kristin explained.
"Oh, that thing," Charles muttered. He didn't give it much more thought because his eyes were now locked on the television. He turned up the volume and stepped back.
"For those who are just tuning in, this is a live copter feed of what is happening in Kansas City! All of the city has come to a standstill as SWAT teams have been deployed. There is talk that the governor is weighing options to pull in the national guard."
Charles gaped at something out of a science fiction movie. There was an energy shield or something around the front of a building. He turned up the volume of the TV.
"What began as what police had thought was a shootout between two gangs has quickly escalated into something we don't even know how to describe. There seems to be some sort of— and I'm sorry for using this term, but it is what the police said— force field that has gone up in front of the building. Witnesses report seeing strange creatures inside it, in addition to some of the gunmen. What can only be described as laser beams have been fired at officers. There had been several other shooters outside, but police have apprehended them. The shooters who were outside are also making claims of strange creatures inside the building. Folks, I know it is hard to believe, but these pictures are not being altered; this is a live feed. We can't confirm anything yet, but we will continue to broadcast as this story unfolds. Hold on! I just got confirmation that the national guard is being deployed!"
"Miss Newman?!" Charles called out to the other room, eager for an explanation. Strange occurrences and talk of strange creatures right where they had been the other day? That had to be tied to them somehow.
Miss Newman came rushing in. "I saw it. Their unicorn is much stronger than I expected if he can hold that shield spell up for that long, even if he is just shielding one part of the building. A high four, maybe a five. Why can't it ever be a weak one?"
"Four? Five? Four or five what?" Wendy asked.
"PREQUES number, it is how we measure magical power in the future," Miss Newman explained.
"What is yours?" Wendy asked.
"Two," Miss Newman muttered loudly.
"So he's two or two and a half times stronger than you?" Wendy asked.
Miss Newman laughed and shook her head. "Ha! I wish. No, it is like a richter scale. The number is how many zeros there are attached to the end of it. He is somewhere between one-hundred and one-thousand times stronger than me."
"What?!" Charles exclaimed in disbelief.
Miss Newman shrugged. "I told you, I'm a weakling. Most ponies have enough power to mop the floor with me. It doesn't matter much if he is a four or a five. It's like being asked if you want to be crushed or pulverized. I got my scar fighting a five. I won, but mainly because most unicorns don't understand the finer nuances of what they are doing."
"They're going to get caught," Kristin said. "They can't get us!"
Miss Newman scowled. "I agree that they are going to get caught. He can't hold that shield forever. I'm more worried about what happens after they get caught. After they get caught, they're going to talk. They're going to drop names and point hooves too."
Charles knew exactly what she was implying. That also meant there was only one real escape. "Do you have enough power to do that thing we discussed?"
"No, but I made arrangements so that I will when I need to. Don't ask; it is stuff you don't want to know."
"I'd really not have any more secrets between us," Charles stated fiercely. "Tell me how you made arrangements."
She sighed in exasperation. "When I was last asleep, I made a deal with an immortal alien dragonlike being who has been around for billions of years to give me a one-time power boost when I needed it. That is the truth. Does knowing that make you any happier or make the situation any clearer for you?"
"Uhhhh...no."
"Then don't ask questions I tell you you don't want the answers for."
"What did you give it?" Kristin asked in interest.
"Information. Nothing that involves or impacts any of you," Miss Newman snapped. "You need to make your decision on whether to go back to running or have me take you with me. I will support either decision, but you need to make one promptly. I won't make it for you."
"Do we have time to talk to the girls about it?" Wendy asked.
Miss Newman gestured at the television. "His shield is still up, so he hasn't been caught yet. That means he hasn't talked yet. Expect the military to be here in less than twenty minutes after they get caught. I'd say thirty to forty-five minutes from now, so I give you five minutes to do what talking you need."
"HEAR ME, HUMANS! THE DREAD APOSTATE, WHO IS THE BETRAYER OF HOPE, AND HER FAMILY, THE PORTSMITHS, LIVE AT ONE HUNDRED BRECKINRIDGE ROAD IN AURORA, COLORADO!" a voice boomed from the newscast.
"They're getting more colorful with my titles. Anyway, scratch that previous timeframe; you have a minute to explain it to them, and then we have to go," Miss Newman said grimly. "The military is coming, and they'll be coming in force since the entire country probably just heard that."
Wendy didn't have time to think. Andrea and Kristin were already present; just one kid was missing.
"Charlotte! Get in here, now!" she yelled.
The little girl hurried in, looking fearful. Andrea pulled her close to her and Kristin.
What to say in such a short period of time? "We are going to be leaving the house and never coming back. Miss Newman, are they able to bring anything with them?"
"If they can hold it. They don't have much time to choose things. I need to start preparing the spell," Miss Newman replied as she pulled her crystal out of her bag.
Wendy nodded. "Grab one thing. It's the only thing you get to keep. We'll get you new toys soon. People are already coming who could hurt us and lock us up. Thirty seconds, grab something!"
She was glad the girls didn't protest or stop to cry; they just moved. Charlotte took off to her room, Andrea ran over to one of the piles of toys, and Kristin ran for her game system.
"Grab something other than the game, child. It won't hook up properly to the televisions where we're going. I'll get you a new game system, a better one. I promise. Stop wasting time you don't have," Miss Newman barked without looking up from the crystal.
Kristin nodded and ran for a pile of toys instead.
Charles looked at Wendy, looking ready to bolt. "What do you want me to save? I can move fast!"
"The family photo album!" she said, not knowing what else to say. Charles nodded and moved. Wendy looked at Miss Newman. "What about the pets?"
"The cat and bird can fend for themselves!" Miss Newman yelled. "I'm sure someone will take them into a shelter. I'll help you adopt a new cat. Children, you don't have time to think. Grab something and get over here! Charlotte, you want to grab Squeezer and your baby blanket! Those are what you'll be saddest to leave behind. Stop looking at Transformers; I'll get you new ones."
Wendy smiled at her. "Thank you for telling her that."
Miss Newman snorted. "And people say I'm incapable of showing myself any kindness."
Andrea and Kristin, hearing this exchange, diverted from where they had been searching and grabbed their own favorite stuffed animals they slept with and the blankets off their beds. If they were going to a strange and unfamiliar place, those would serve for more comfort than any other items.
Charles came back into the room, a book under one arm and a box under the other. "I've got it! I also got some other sentimental things."
"You might need to pick between the two; you need to help your wife down from the bed and close to me. That's going to tie up an arm," Miss Newman informed him.
The girls, stuffed animals and blankets in hand, hearing the unspoken instruction, came close to Miss Newman. Charles set the box down and headed over to the bed to help Wendy.
As Charles helped Wendy off the bed, Miss Newman began stripping her clothes.
"Hey! Not in front of my—” Wendy began.
"We don't have time for idiotic human decency rules!" Miss Newman snapped, still stripping. "That street you wait for the bus at is a straight shot to the military base. They can clear traffic as they go. They are probably already in their vehicles and getting ready to depart the base. They'll be here in less than five minutes after they do. Police are probably already on their way to establish a perimeter! I'm surprised you don't have one of your nosey neighbors—"
There was a knock on the front door, and the doorbell rang.
Miss Newman pulled off her shirt and sighed with exasperation as she began unstrapping her bra. "I spoke too soon. Screw your neighbors!"
"No, thank you, I much prefer my wife," Charles said with a grin.
Miss Newman glared at him as she worked to get her panties off. "The army is about to bust in through the front door, and you're cracking jokes!"
"Kids, divert your eyes!" Wendy ordered as she saw Miss Newman about to go completely naked. "You too, Charles."
"Already on it. I do not want to see old lady bush," Charles replied.
Miss Newman pulled her necklace off and sighed as she reverted to being a little red unicorn. "Nothing ever changes with you— horrible humor at the worst of times. Horrible humor at all times, but even more so during inappropriate times. And you have your kids present for those raunchy jokes!"
"Weren't you the one who just went on about not getting hung up about decency? They don't even get the raunchy jokes," Charles countered.
"So I'm a hypocrite! That's well documented!" Miss Newman yelled.
"I didn't know that," Charles replied. "Charlotte, don't be like Miss Newman when you grow up. Don't be a hypocrite."
"What's a hypocrite, and what does raunchy mean?" Charlotte asked in confusion.
"Are you all seriously doing this right now?!" Wendy demanded, unable to believe this conversation was happening now of all times.
Andrea raised her hand. "I understand the jokes."
"I think it is kinda funny," Kristin said helpfully.
"I'm glad someone thinks so!" Miss Newman fumed. "Actually, no, I'm not. The jokes stink!"
"They defuse stress! This is very stressful!" Charles said defensively.
"The army is on their way. It's a good time to be stressed! I barely have control of my bladder!" Miss Newman yelled.
Kristin pointed at Charlotte's pants. "She pee'd her pants!"
"Kristin! Don't tell!" Charlotte cried.
The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance fast approaching. The argument came to an abrupt end as everyone paused to listen.
"Now would be a good time to cast that spell," Wendy said fearfully.
Miss Newman's horn sparked, and the pony winced. "What the hell, Triss?! Are you seriously going to make me wait?!"
"Who's Triss?" Andrea asked.
"A goddamned scaly demigod that is supposed to have a bargain with me," Miss Newman growled. Then she looked up at the ceiling and started shouting. "I upheld my part of the bargain, you miserable alien! I gave you what you needed to do what you've failed over and over again to do for billions of years! Fucking fulfill your end of the deal!"
"What did it never do?" Andrea asked.
"Save a world; she always fails. Has a PREQUES number that's off the charts and still comes up empty every single time! But I told her how to save Earth!" Miss Newman fumed. "The least she could do in return is give me enough power to do this one freaking spell! So help me, dragon, if I get caught, I'm going to make sure they associate you with the devil himself!"
The sirens were now clearly right outside. They could see the police lights flashing even from the bedroom window. They were flashing through the kitchen windows as well. The house had police cars on all sides.
"Any fucking time now, Triss!" Miss Newman screamed.
"Maybe we should run instead," Wendy suggested, trying to get up.
"Sit your ass back down and stop being stupid!" Miss Newman ordered. "They've got the house surrounded, and you can barely walk!"
Wendy sat back down. "Well, we have to do something!" She wondered if this Triss was some elaborate hallucination on Miss Newman's part.
There was a pounding on the front door. "Open up! Police! The house is surrounded! Please surrender peacefully!"
Wendy reached her breaking point. "We're going to get caught, and Kristin is going to be turned into a science experiment!"
"I'm what?!!" Kristin screamed.
"Triss! Stop horsing around! This isn't funny or cute! You get nothing by keeping me here any longer or ruining my family's lives! I know that seeing billions of people die is like any other Tuesday to you, but have some goddamned compassion and give me this one boost! I'm not even asking for anything permanent!"
Something heavy hit the front door, and Wendy could hear the front window shattering. The police weren't waiting; they were forcing their way in. She felt something wet and glanced down to see a puddle of urine forming around Miss Newman. The pony was as terrified as them.
Both the doors to the girls' bedroom suddenly slammed shut and started to glow. Wendy looked at Miss Newman and saw the pony seemed just as shocked as they were by what had just happened.
"Mortals are always in such a hurry. I hear you, pony of many names, and I see you. I have two final questions before I grant your boon. I had thought I would have more time to interrogate you before you left. Now I find myself having to decide what are the most critical questions out of many. It would have been pleasant to speak longer."
Wendy, Charles, and the girls sat dumbstruck by the voice echoing in their heads.
Miss Newman raised her head. "What questions?"
"The pony, Sunset Shimmer. What Earth year does she arrive on Earth?"
Miss Newman gulped. "You understand Earth's calendar, okay. You've been paying more attention than I thought. As near as I can tell, she arrives in two-thousand and three in Afghanistan. A US soldier finds her and brings her to the town of Lazy Pines in Colorado, or she tags along with him against his will. I was never clear on those details. I know she keeps hidden while she prepares her spell."
"That answer is helpful. The second question is, how many Earth years pass between her arrival and the pandemic you spoke of?"
"Twenty," Miss Newman said without hesitation.
"I may need to accelerate that timetable, especially since you are taking with you the mage that I would find most helpful in bringing Jeg'galla'gamp'pi to shelter Earth against the coming doom. You did not mention that in your bargain. You taking one of my critical resources is most distressing."
Miss Newman went wide-eyed. "I'm taking nothing essential to the plan. Only my family."
"You are taking Charlotte Portsmith, which is my version of you. You underplay your importance or else do not believe in it. Which means you are a liar or an unfortunate fool. Do you think the alternate me acted to set you free if she did not think you essential? You insult me and insult yourself."
"I mean no insult or duplicity. I only designed the spell. I don't have the kind of power to pull it off! It would take an alicorn or you to do something like that! You have the spell; you don't need her or me," Miss Newman said as something rammed against the door leading into the kitchen. "I just want to protect her. There is no future for her here. Not now. Please, honor our bargain."
"I think she is more vital than you think. Still, fear not, a replacement for Charlotte Portsmith can be arranged, although it will require tampering. I loathe to do that more than I must. It draws the Devourers' attention. I will honor our terms. Take my boon and begone."
Miss Newman's horn lit up, and the pony sighed with relief. Wendy released the breath she had been holding through the entire exchange. Had that thing, whatever it was, really wanted to keep her daughter?
A circle of light appeared around them on the floor, and the girls hurdled closer towards the adults to avoid being near the edges.
"One last thing… I am not one to see potential squandered, and you will not be here to attract the Devourers, so I grant one final boon, unrequested. It may be as your people say, stepping on your version of me's toes, but you have done me a great service. Farewell, pony of many names and Portsmith family. May my boon serve you well."
"What boon?! What boon, Triss?!" Miss Newman yelled.
The light holding the doors vanished, and the police broke through. It didn't matter. The circle of light flashed a second later, making Wendy shut her eyes.
Alarms started sounding all around her, and when she opened her eyes, she gasped.
They were in the middle of a large room with no windows and only one door. She could see a bar on the door, locking it from their side. A massive glowing crystal sat behind them, and in every direction that she saw strange brass machinery done up in pillars, cogs, and globes mounted on poles. All the pillars and globes were segmented, and each segment had a different symbol etched into it. The entire room seemed to be one massive machine that she couldn't determine a use for. The crystal that Miss Newman had said was her anchor lay on the ground, shattered into a thousand pieces. The alarms were drill sounding.
Miss Newman stood up and looked around with a big grin on her face. "We did it! I'm home! Welcome to my workshop. Welcome to your future!"
"So predictable. Going gets tough, and the Apostate runs. I didn't expect you to bring our bait back with you. We expected her to get away. Oh well, I guess that's a bonus. Two for the price of one."
They all turned and saw a unicorn advancing at them with a wicked grin. Behind him were other ponies, all leering at them just as wickedly. One of the ponies had webbed wings and looked like it had one wing and one leg in a cast; that one was glaring murder at them.
Wendy looked on in terror as she realized it had never been about Charlotte or them. They'd only been the bait to lure Miss Newman somewhere she'd be more helpless. Now those ponies had them all trapped.
The unicorn lit his horn. "We didn't know where you were hiding once you got away from us, but we knew you'd run home with your tail between your legs once we ratted you out, and we all come back to the same place. You've been played, and it feels so good. Prepare to die, Apostate. And we'll get the kid version of you for good measure!"
Things happened rapidly. Everyone took cover behind anything they could find. There was plenty of places to hide available, but not much time. The alarms were still blaring.
"Girls, hide!" Wendy screamed as she moved behind one of the various brass pillars.
"Sunset Blessing! Your days are numbered! We don't care if we don't make it out of here. We're taking you down! We shall have justice at last!" the unicorn bellowed. "Spread out! Herd her out in the open. Don't worry about the humans; we can deal with the other one after dealing with the original. The Apostate will not rise again."
Wendy had Kristin with her, huddled behind a pillar. Her ankle was in severe pain, but she didn't cry out. She didn't know where everyone else was.
"Can't we just catch the kid? Train her up to be on our side?" one of the other ponies questioned.
"No! What good would she do us anyway without her being a pony? She's a human at heart, has always been, and always will be," the unicorn answered.
"I'm still not happy about the idea of killing a kid, even if it is Sunset Blessing," the other pony answered.
"We don't need to kill anyone else, just the two of them. Now, find them!"
Wendy whimpered. They were going to kill Charlotte! They needed to get out of here. That meant getting to the door and unbarring it.
Something slammed against the door from the other side. Were the police here? Wait, they were in the future. This was Miss Newman's place. She said she had guards. That had to be the guards. If the guards could get in, they could save them. Sprained ankle or not, she needed to get to the door and take the bar off.
There was a scuffle, and Wendy saw a naked human form of Miss Newman run from one pillar to the next.
"I found her! She turned human again!" one of the ponies hunting them yelled.
"What did I say? She's always been a human at heart!" the unicorn yelled gleefully. "Flush her out! She's only made herself more helpless. She can't use her tricks on us as a human."
Why did she go back to being a human? She was a bigger target that way. The only thing Wendy could think of was it gave Miss Newman the ability to see the ponies easier. Actually, she said that spell to bring them here had been a one-time power boost. Miss Newman might not be able to do any magic right now, but these ponies didn't know that.
Wendy prayed that Charles had found Charlotte and was keeping her safe. The ponies were focused on Miss Newman for the moment, that meant she had a chance to try to do something about the door.
She pulled Kristin close to her and whispered. "I need you to stay quiet and out of the way of those ponies. I'm going to try to open the door and let the good guys in."
"But you only have one arm you can use, and you can't walk!" Kristin said fearfully.
Those were excellent points, but points that would have to be ignored. "I can get to the door. It will hurt, but I can do it. Just stay out of sight. Can you do that for me?"
"I don't want you to go! The bad ponies will get you!" Kristin cried. "I'm scared."
She kissed her daughter on the forehead. "You need to be brave, and you need to be quiet. I'll be back soon. Once I get that door open, we'll be safe."
Kristin whimpered but nodded.
Wendy looked at the door, gauging the distance. Deep breaths. This was going to hurt like hell, but it didn't matter. Charlotte's life was on the line. If that door didn't get opened, then Charlotte was as good as dead. No amount of pain or injury would deter her from her goal. A mother would do anything to protect her children.
She stood up, and the mere act of putting that much weight on her leg made her want to scream. Her mouth stayed clamped shut as tears rolled down her eyes. Try to move quickly, using her good arm to balance, and trying to keep as much weight off that leg as possible. If she fell, she would just have to crawl until she reached the door.
The first step nearly sent her down to the ground, but she managed to stay upright. Moving quickly wasn't going to happen. Taking another deep breath, she stumbled a few more steps and hit the ground hard.
"Mom!" Kristin yelled out in fear.
"Hey! That human is trying to make for the door!" one of the ponies yelled.
"Well, stop her, you bird brain!" the unicorn yelled.
The feathery winged pony came flying over at her and landed on her back, forcing her face down on the floor. "Stay down! This will all be over soon."
Wendy openly wept. She'd failed. There wasn't any getting out of this. Charlotte was going to die. Wendy wanted to die instead. How could she have failed to protect her own child?
"Get off my mom!" she heard Kristin yell. A second later, something collided with the pony on her back, sending it hurling away into a wall.
"God! How can a little girl hit that hard?" the pegasus yelled breathlessly as it tried to get back to its hooves.
"Road Cracker! Go help the useless bird brain! We can't let them open that door! I'll focus on the Apostate!" the unicorn yelled in a fury.
The pony without wings or horn charged at them, and Kristin screamed.
"Kristin, get the bar off the door!" Wendy yelled.
Kristin took off towards the door and began trying to lift the bar, there was a latch on the bar that the girl missed at first, and by the time she noticed it, the pony had already reached her and shoved her away.
"Not happening, kid!" the pony hollered at her. He then advanced on her as Kristin retreated, walking backward while crying.
The scuffle was not over yet. Charles came out of nowhere and tackled the pony, trying to restrain it. "Get the door!" he yelled to Kristin.
Kristin started running for the door as the earth pony fought to get its footing against Charles. For such a smaller creature, Charles was having a tough time holding on to it. Kristin reached the door again and started working on undoing the latch on the bar. The fact that someone was still pounding on the other side only slowed down the process. However, Kristin eventually yelped in triumph as she got the latch undone and went to lift the bar.
The pegasus came out of nowhere and slammed into the girl, knocking her away from the door before the bar could be lifted.
"Ha! Cloud Cover finally did something right!" a new female voice cried out in joy.
The feathered pony held Kristin down and glared across the room. "I'm at least useful! Not like you!"
"I'm down a wing and a leg. What's your excuse?" the newer pony protested. "I did most of the early scouting. This is the first useful thing you've done since this began."
"I—" the feathered pony began but cut off as Miss Newman went running by. "It's the Apostate! Get her!"
"Little busy right now!" Road Cracker yelled as Charles refused to let him get his footing. That pony seemed unnaturally strong. If he got his footing, Charles would have no chance against him.
Miss Newman reached the door and threw the bar off. It was a short-lived victory because what looked like a laser blast took her in the back, burning a hole straight through where one of her lungs would be. She dropped down to the floor, probably dying.
"Got her! Mission accomplished!" the unicorn yelled with glee as the door burst open.
Uniformed humans and ponies flooded into the room. Wendy stared in disbelief at the crumpled form of Miss Newman that had been shoved to the side by the door when it had opened. The guards were focused on the hostile ponies, and it didn't even seem like they had noticed her yet.
"Miss Old Lady Pony!" Charlotte screamed. She came running from a nearby pillar towards the form of Miss Newman.
"Charlotte, no!" Andrea yelled, and came chasing after her.
"And there is the final loose end!" the unicorn said with a growl. Wendy watched in horror as he charged up his horn again, uncaring about the guards bearing down on him, eyes locked on Charlotte.
"Charlotte! Get away from there!" Wendy screamed, unable to get up to do anything.
Time seemed to slow down. The unicorn fired off his blast just as the guards reached him. Wendy watched as it arched across the room towards Charlotte, everything seeming to now be moving at a crawl. Charles screamed, she screamed, Kristin screamed. Andrea kept after her sister as Charlotte remained oblivious of her impending doom. Just as it was about to reach Charlotte, Andrea did first, and shoved her little sister roughly to the ground.
Then the beam hit Andrea, going straight through her side in a place it would have to pass through multiple organs, and Andrea went down too.
Wendy let off a wail of anguish. One of her daughters had just taken a lethal shot. Charlotte had survived, but they were going to lose Andrea!
This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening.
Charles ceased caring about the pony he was wrestling with, and the pony seemed too stunned by what happened to care about him. Charles was up and running to his daughter's side in a second.
"Andrea! Andrea! Get up! Please, Andrea!" Charlotte cried as she shook her sister. She backed off as Charles reached them and began checking. "Daddy, she's not getting up!"
The first thing he did was check her pulse and breathing. She was still breathing, although it was weak. There was blood everywhere, and the pool was getting bigger. How much blood could she lose? Had she already lost too much?
"Sunset! What did you do?!" a new voice yelled.
He was shoved aside by an older pony with no wings or horn with sparkly crystalline fur. He got ready to push her out of the way when she met his eyes.
"I'm trying to save her. Don't get in my way!" the pony hissed. She then turned to see Miss Newman, who she quickly hurried towards. "No! Not you too! Sunset!"
The pony seemed ready to have a panic attack. "The necklace. It has to work. Please work the way you say it does. Please!"
The pony stripped the necklace off Miss Newman, causing Miss Newman to revert to being a pony. The old pony didn't wait to find out if that made anything better; she rushed back towards Charles with the necklace in her mouth.
She sat down and shoved the necklace into his hands. "Put this on her, now! It's the only chance. It's supposed to work. It needs to work! Don't ask questions, just do it!"
Charles didn't ask questions; at the moment, he would listen to anything and take any order if it would save his little girl. Charlotte was still crying as he slipped the necklace around Andrea's neck. She shifted forms in an instant to a tiny pony with sparkly fur.
The older pony shoved him aside and put her ear up to Andrea's side. She listened for a few seconds before sighing with relief. "She's stabilized. She's out cold, but she's stabilized. Don't take that off her; it might kill her if you do. Now, let me check on my sister to make sure taking the necklace off her worked just as well, and if it did, I'm going to kill her for this! What the fuck was she thinking!"
Charles could barely process what the pony was saying beyond Andrea was in stable condition and don't take the necklace off her. He just held the tiny pony that was his daughter in his arms.
Kristin was helping Wendy make her way over, giving her a shoulder to balance against. Charlotte was still crying.
"Is Andrea going to be okay, Daddy?" Charlotte cried.
"I think so, for right now," he assured her.
"I'm sorry," Charlotte cried. "She got hurt because of me."
Wendy practically fell on the floor as she finished reaching them. "Is she okay?"
Charles nodded and showed his wife, Andrea. "She's sleeping, but that other pony says she's okay. She saved her with Miss Newman's necklace."
Wendy paled. "Miss Newman said that thing has a time limit on how long that thing can stay on. What happens when we have to take it off?"
He shook his head. He hoped they had an answer by then.
The old pony came back towards them. "Sunset is going to live, although when I'm done screaming at her, she is going to wish they'd killed her. She has done some insane shit in her life, but this takes the cake. Why are you all here?"
"We were out of options. The military was coming to take us away. Kristin, our daughter—"
"I know who Kristin is; cut the introductions and stay to the point," the pony snapped. "How the hell did this possibly happen?"
A guard came over to the old pony. "Miss Portsmith, we have all the radicals apprehended."
The old pony considered it. "Lock them in a basement room under heavy guard and keep the unicorn separated in another room with a full squadron of crystal ponies to keep him contained. I'll decide what authorities to call when I'm finished here. I'm still trying to figure out how to contain the fallout from this. Get my niece, you know which one, on the line and tell her I need her or another warden here pronto."
Charlotte looked back and forth between Andrea and the old pony. "You're the old lady pony Andrea from the future!"
The old pony cocked an ear at Charlotte. "It's currently the present, and you're from the past, and it's rude to call people old lady ponies. I'd tell you to learn some manners, but since I know my sister, I know you never will." She turned back towards Charles and Wendy. "Yeah, I'm Andrea, and I'm still waiting on an explanation. Sunset is unconscious, and I don't have time to fall asleep to start questioning her. The wardens can deal with that part. I need straight-to-the-point answers, and I'm not in a position to be patient."
Charles blinked, it just now registered to him that this pony had the same shade of fur as his daughter's, although his daughter's mane was sea-green and this pony's was iron-grey. This Andrea looked like she was the type that took no-nonsense.
He took a deep breath and answered as best he could. "Those ponies came back in time and were stalking our Charlotte. Miss Newman came and helped us get away from them, but the ponies got on the news and made a commotion that got the military involved then told the world about us. Kristin had put on Miss Newman's necklace, and Miss Newman said that she would have magic later, and with the military already watching us, we knew she would get turned into a science experiment or something. Oh, and some bookies had burned down Miss Newman's house and raided ours that might have kept hunting us too."
Old Andrea stared at him for a moment, then shook her head. "And since that all happened, my sister decided she needed to take extreme measures to save you because, of course, she couldn't leave family hanging, even if she had to fuck up their lives in the process. Damn it, Sunset. You'd best forget that Miss Newman moniker. She's Sunset Blessing, and one thing you learn real quick is that name is never a good one to be associated with."
"What about Andrea...our Andrea?" Wendy said in a hurry. "What happens when we have to take the necklace off?"
Older Andrea looked grim. "I'll make arrangements so that it comes off with her on an operating table with an entire team of doctors ready to save her. I'm not going to let kid me die. They can put it back on and off to help stabilize her through the procedure, to buy more time for them to get things right. That was supposedly what Sunset originally designed this spell to do, help save patients that there seemed no hope for. It's time to put that to the test."
Old Andrea watched as the guards escorted the ponies out before continuing. "I'm with you, so they won't mess with you. I'm guessing there is no putting you back where you belong, so we'll need to work something out here. Sunset is still down for the count, so it's up to me to figure that out. Follow me. Sunset can lay right where she is until she wakes up. I'm too old to be carrying another pony around on my back. She'll come upstairs on her own after she wakes up."
"I can't walk that well right now," Wendy explained.
"I can't carry Andrea safely and support my wife," Charles added on.
The old pony looked them over and let out a small whiny. "Okay, I can manage the filly version of me. So you can support young Mom— I need a better way of addressing you; this is too weird. Anyway, I'm strong enough for that, and I doubt the universe is going to explode if it hasn't already. I don't know how the fuck this all works; I only try to survive whatever new thing Sunset throws at me. I'm going to need a very hard drink when this is done."
They all followed after old Andrea as she led them past Miss Newman.
Charlotte stopped to pat Miss Newman on the head. "Feel better soon, old lady me."
"It's a little dim down here, so watch your step," old Andrea warned. "When we get upstairs, you'll probably have to deal with most of the rest of the family. I can only imagine Ami will faint— that's my Kristin. Ami lives a rather calm life and doesn't normally get involved with this craziness beyond paperwork. Please don't give my sister a heart attack. I already have a big enough hospital visit to arrange."
"What about your versions of us, your parents?" Charles asked, remembering Miss Newman said they lived with her.
Old Andrea shrugged as she walked. "They take things in stride. At this point, nothing about what Sunset has done could surprise them. They're probably sleeping. They sleep a lot these days. Careful with the stairs, don't trip."
They went up a narrow stairwell in silence. Well, narrow for humans, it seemed to be perfectly fine for ponies, with oddly spaced steps that seemed too shallow and wide.
When they exited the stairwell, they found themselves in what seemed like a very ordinary basement. Ordinary, except there were two barred doors with guards standing outside each. One of those doors was exclusively guarded by ponies with sparkly fur. Old Andrea gave each door a quick look, then continued to a second stairwell; this one seemed more standard in construction.
They reached the top of the stairwell and exited into a well-lit foyer. The house's front door was clearly visible, with a pair of windows to either side that stretched up to two stories. Two more stairwells were leading upwards and several doors.
There were also four ponies standing around, staring at them.
A red unicorn that bore a striking resemblance to Miss Newman stepped forward to confront old Andrea. "Where's Auntie?"
Old Andrea gestured with her head in the direction they had just come. "Your mom is asleep in her workshop. She's well, I looked her over, better than well, and that part is concerning. Her magic is— nevermind. I'll talk to her in private about that later."
The unicorn shoved past them and went down the stairs.
"I might need you in a few minutes!" old Andrea shouted after him.
"I'm checking on Auntie first!" the unicorn shouted back.
"He said Auntie, not Mom," Kristin said in an accusing tone.
"Her sons are weird in that way. I learn not to question it," old Andrea said with a humph. She then smiled at the remaining three ponies."Ami! You know you're my favorite sister, right? Guess what nonsense Sunset brought home! Try not to panic, but I would be grateful if you could help me out here. I'm not up to dealing with mini-me versions of you and Sunset while I'm busy trying to save mini-me me. Can you please do something with these kids while I deal with the adults and the filly on my back?"
The other ponies moved away from an older pony wearing glasses whose mouth was hanging open wide in shock.
"Amicus!" old Andrea said as she clopped her hoof on the floor a few times to get the other pony's attention. "Sunset had some time-traveling shenanigans that we need to clean up. The world isn't going to end because of it, and we're going to just roll with it for now. We can freak out later. She brought alternative younger versions of us back with her. My little alternative version needs medical attention, and the other children need to be out from underhoof while me and young Mom and Dad deal with that. Can I count on you to deal with them? I need some help here."
Amicus turned her eyes exclusively to Kristin and pointed a leg at her. "Are you sure the world isn't going to explode if I touch her?"
"Do you see the filly on my back?" old Andrea asked in exasperation. "You can touch her, and the world will not come to an end. You can figure out all the legal crap that is going to go into this later once we have dealt with the immediate crisis, which is primarily keeping the filly on my back alive past the week or so it takes before this necklace has to stay off for a day. I hope it is a week, anyway; I don't know where it is in it's charging cycle."
Amicus didn't seem so sure. "Um...maybe I'm not the best pony to be dealing with this. You know I have high blood pressure. And I need to get to work on the legal legwork for this. It is going to be a nightmare." She turned towards a webbed-winged pony standing beside her. "Maybe you, Mèng? You should know how to occupy kids, and you're the youngest one here. You can sit them down with some video games or something. I remember I was very interested in video games at that age. You know more about that stuff than me."
The pony she addressed looked at her skeptically. "You were interested in video games when you were a filly? What was it back then, Pong?"
The older pony seemed to take outrage at that for some reason. "I'm not that old! Eighties games! You know, the original Super Mario Bros, Pacman, Burgertime, Contra—"
"You played Contra?" Mèng asked in disbelief. "You're Miss Runs-and-Hides-at-the-Mention-of-Violence and that game has a lot of guns."
Amicus stomped a hoof. "I was young once, and bolder. The evidence is right over there. I'll have you know I still know the Konami code!"
Mèng blinked then grinned. "Aunt Ami, there is something I can bond with you over! Why didn't you ever mention that before?"
She sat and held up her hooves. "I don't have thumbs, you numbskull! You've got your little wing thumbs."
"There are special controllers that—"
"Is this the time to be discussing video games? My daughter needs attention!" Wendy interrupted.
Mèng's ears sagged. "We'll get back to it. Yeah, I can find something to keep Baby Auntie and Baby Aunt Ami busy."
"I'm not a baby!" Kristin protested.
"Me neither!" Charlotte protested as well.
"Rugrats, then," Mèng corrected. "Um, follow me, kids. I'm going to blow your minds."
Charlotte and Kristin looked to their parents for guidance. Charles was unsure about letting them out of his sight, but these ponies were supposedly family. That stallion was supposedly Charlotte's son. There was no going back to their home. This would be their home now, and they needed to trust these ponies.
"It's okay. You can go play video games. We'll take care of your sister and get her back here feeling right as rain, you'll see, don't worry," Charles said, smiling. He wished he could stop worrying about Andrea and everything else, but his girls needed reassurance.
He watched Mèng lead them away to a door to the side. He caught a glimpse inside, and it appeared to be a rec room. Ponies had rec rooms. That was both normal and strange all at the same time.
"Um, I'm going to go help Mèng out. Auntie as a kid might be a hooffull," another pony stallion said as he ducked out the same way. Charles guessed that was Charlotte's third son. None of the three looked alike, and they all seemed to be different types of ponies. That seemed odd, but what did Charles know?
That just left Amicus standing there, still looking at them in disbelief. Old Andrea watched her with a raised eyebrow.
"Ami, you said you had work to do. Are you going to be okay? Do I need to call your husband and tell him he needs to come home to make sure you're going to be fine? I can do it. I don't want you having an episode with your heart," Old Andrea asked, concern heavy in her voice.
That snapped Amicus out of her stupor. "No, let him have his day out with the guys. He doesn't get out as much as he should. I'll be alright. I'm not used to Sunset's stuff coming home like this and being so personal." She looked at them. "Sorry, I'm being rude. Andrea says little Andrea needs a doctor, and I'm delaying things. It's just that it feels like looking at ghosts looking at all of you, and stuff like this isn't normal, even when Sunset is involved. I know this must be much harder for you than for us. I can only imagine… I'll be here for support when you need me, even if it's a little weird dealing with versions of my parents young enough to be my grandchildren, which must be even weirder for you. I'm making this weirder, and I'm blathering, I'm sorry. I don't know how Sunset or Andrea deal with this kind of thing so calmly; I'm not cut out for this. I'll be going now before I put my hoof in my mouth any more. This is going to be a lot of paperwork."
Amicus then scurried up the stairs and out of sight.
"For the record, I deal with things by focusing on action and keep going till I'm forced to sit down and let my emotions catch up. Maybe it isn't healthy, but it's what's needed when you need to make a series of hard choices. I learned that trick a long time ago, and it's one of the things Sunset and I have in common. That's how she manages, always keeping busy. Otherwise, she would break," Andrea said quietly. "We have work to do. I know how this necklace works well enough to know it can keep little me going for days, so I have time to get people settled in, but I need to keep us moving. If we stop to think about everything, we'll collapse under the stress, and that helps no one. Sunset should be along shortly. Follow me."
Wendy was trying to hold her rage in check. Her daughter could die, and these ponies wanted to sit there and socialize with each other with no sense of urgency. This older version of Andrea said she was in a hurry, but she sat there and had a polite conversion with the older version of Kristin; she even did it with Andrea on her back! Andrea was going to die while these ponies were talking. Miss Newman or whatever they wanted to call her here at least took quick and decisive actions. Why couldn't these other ponies do the same?
Still supported by Charles, she hobbled through a side door into a large room. This room looked like some sort of guard station. Several guards were in attendance, both humans and ponies. One was in an area with camera feeds for what she assumed were all the rooms, and there were benches and lockers. All of them were wearing a uniform labeled S.P.E.C., whatever that was, some security company, probably.
"Miss Portsmith, the Dreamwarden is on the line. She is ready to do a video call with you," one of the guards informed old Andrea.
"Thank goodness; she's being quick. Put her on the big screen," old Andrea ordered and turned to face a big black panel on the wall.
The panel lit up, and a pony was staring at them from it with a messing-looking mane.
"Aunt Andrea, I take it my mom is back, and there's a problem," the pony on the screen said in a tired voice, then yawned. She then squinted at them. "Don't tell me, that's a much younger version of you draped over your back. Why is she wearing my mom's necklace?"
Old Andrea took a deep breath. "Thank you for being perceptive. Yeah, it's me, probably about ten years old or so. Your mother brought the whole damn family back with her, and she brought the intruders too. There was a skirmish in her workshop, and from what I can tell, the fanatic unicorn blasted little me with a narrowly-focused high-intensity horn blast. It went right through one side and out the other, hitting I don't know how many organs and leaving her short of a lot of blood. I took the necklace off your mom and put it on her. It was the only thing I could think to do."
"And my mom is out for the count. Otherwise, she would be the one making this call, correct?" the mare on the screen asked. She waited for old Andrea to nod before continuing. "That means you need a team of surgeons who can be discreet, and you need them fast. How long has she had the necklace on?"
"Less than half an hour," old Andrea answered quickly.
"Good, that gives me plenty of time. I'll make arrangements the second this call is over and let you know where to take her," the mare on the screen said. "And you need to do some containment about this incident too; I take it. I'll dispatch the Marshmallow. Expect the Marshmallow in less than an hour, perhaps as soon as in the next few minutes, the Marshmallow's astral form can move faster than Rainbow Dash. Is there anything else that I critically need to know that can't wait until later tonight to be addressed? My mom isn't dying or anything, correct? No further security breaches involving her workshop?"
Old Andrea shook her head. "There are things that need to be addressed, but they can wait until later. Your mother took a blast too, but she took it in human form, and she seemed no worse for wear after I took the necklace off her. I'm still deciding what to do with the intruders, but perhaps the Marshmallow can aid with that."
"We'll see," the other mare replied. "I'll call you back shortly. Stay close to get the call. The faster we get this surgery underway, the better. Goodbye for now."
"Goodbye, Phobia," old Andrea replied, and the screen went black again.
Wendy felt a little better now. Phobia seemed to be on the ball when getting things done and accessing the situation. However, she seemed to behave oddly for someone whose mother had just been in mortal danger.
"Phobia seems very...distant," Charles remarked. He must have noticed how odd she was too.
Old Andrea blinked. "I have only met my niece a few times, but Phobia rarely shows much emotion about anything, is very calm, very serious, and rarely leaves her house except for official business. She is one of the few introverted ponies I know. Most ponies are scared shitless of her, probably because of her titles, Warden of Fear and Queen of Nightmares. Despite all that, she can be very kind and considerate in her actions. I'm just glad she was brief. She has a habit of saying way more than is needed and lecturing people at length. I guess she's saving that for later. She'll definitely be giving her mother a long lecture about all this."
"So, we wait for her to call back?" Wendy asked, fretting about how much time was ticking away while Andrea still hadn't gotten any attention.
"Yeah, take a seat. It may be a few minutes," old Andrea answered. "I hate having to wait, but we have to have this done right, or we lose her because we rushed and messed something up. I suppose I can get her off my back too. I'm not carrying her to the hospital like this. She's not that heavy, but I'm not young enough to be lugging around a filly everywhere without getting a backache."
Charles helped Wendy over to one of the benches and then went to take Andrea's sleeping form off her older self's back. "Do you have a pony name? Calling you old Andrea is going to get confusing."
Old Andrea shook her head. "Never took a pony name; seemed like a stupid idea to begin with, and immediately after the pandemic, that kind of thing could have gotten me blacklisted in the government and law enforcement, although I ended up blacklisted anyway, on account of Sunset being Sunset. I swear she's the bane of my existence. I don't have any nicknames either. No offense, but I'm not changing my name on account of mini-me. I've had my name longer than she has."
The door opened, and Miss Newman and her unicorn son came in. Miss Newman seemed well and alert, not suffering after her previous injury.
"What did I miss? Where are the other kids?" Miss Newman asked as she walked in.
"Why, thank you, Andrea, for saving my life," old Andrea said caustically. "You're welcome, Sunset. I'm glad you aren't dead."
Miss Newman scowled as she came over to them. "No need to be rude, and, yes, thank you for that. I had hoped someone would be intelligent enough to think to take my necklace off. I'm glad you aren't an idiot."
"More than I can say for you," old Andrea growled. "This is one of the most insane things you have ever done, and you have done some insane things in your day. By the way, why do they all have magic? They said Kristin was the only one who put the necklace on before I had to put it on mini-me."
Wendy gaped. "What do you mean, we have magic? We don't have magic."
"I'm a crystal pony. I can tell if you have magic. I might not be great at telling PREQUES numbers, but you two are at least moderate strength, and Kristin and Charlotte both have a lot for their age. I can't read mini-me correctly while she has the necklace on and didn't pay attention to that part when I first saw her."
Miss Newman seemed as taken aback as they were. "I… I don't know. Maybe it's a side effect of time travel. I haven't had test subjects before this, so I don't know what kinds of complications it could bring. I wouldn't expect that, and certainly not to that extent."
"Of course, you wouldn't. You just do things without a second thought about not knowing what will happen! No wonder they call you the Mad Archmage!" old Andrea fumed.
"Only you and Sinker call me that," Miss Newman muttered. "I also don't know if it was the time travel. Triss said something about a boon and didn't explain herself."
"You got involved with Triss too, and you thought that would go well?!" old Andrea demanded.
"I was out of options!" Miss Newman said defensively. "Would you rather I let the military catch them, and they never get a second of freedom again?"
"I would rather it didn't get to that point!" old Andrea countered.
Miss Newman seemed to notice Andrea in Charles's arms for the first time. "Why is she wearing my necklace?"
"That unicorn shot her. She lost a lot of blood and has a lot of internal damage," old Andrea answered. "Putting that necklace on her was all I could think to do."
All the lights and electric equipment seemed to flicker, and the light seemed to dim as Miss Newman's horn sparked into a furious blaze.
"I'll kill him!" Miss Newman snarled in rage.
Old Andrea seemed to pale and raised her forehooves placatingly. "Sunset… there's no need to go all murderous psychopath. You don't know your strength right now. I have him contained, and he'll see justice done to him. Just calm yourself before you burn down the house."
Miss Newman's eyes crossed as she looked up at her horn, and she did a startled backpedal as it flickered out. "Goddammit, Triss! Nobody asked for this! I don't want this!"
"Don't call the dragon down on us!" old Andrea scolded.
"Are we going to have stuff start happening around us?" Wendy asked, fearful.
Old Andrea shrugged. "Maybe… there's no way of knowing till something happens. Human magic is very unpredictable. We'll need to make sure you're registered. I'm sorry to say this, but we may need to keep you away from the hospital while mini-me is being worked on."
"I'm going to be there; it's my daughter!" Wendy yelled.
"But human magic has been known to interact with electronics, and the hospital has a lot of sensitive stuff," old Andrea explained calmly as if speaking to a child. "We can't risk you having a surge there of something bad and inadvertently hurting her or the other patients. I know it's hard, but you need to be careful until we know for sure what we're dealing with."
"I know a pony who specializes in helping humans get a grip on their magic," Miss Newman said, giving them a sympathetic look. "Andrea's right. Until you have it figured out, it's best to keep you away from electronic equipment keeping people alive. Speaking of medical stuff, Shǔguāng, can you please help her with that leg and arm? I'm not sure if you can fix the arm, but the sprained ankle I'm sure you can fix."
The other unicorn walked up to Wendy and lit his horn. "Hold still; I need to scan you with my magic to determine the extent of the injury before attempting to repair it. This part will not hurt."
Wendy shied back. "This part?"
"The actual mending can cause a brief sensation of pain. Consider it like ripping a bandaid off. It hurts while it's happening, but it's quickly over with," Shǔguāng explained. "Please, don't move around. I'll tell you whether I can treat the injury in a moment."
She tried to hold still as he gazed at her, horn still lit. It was unclear if anything was happening. She didn't feel anything, and he was just standing there doing nothing.
Almost a minute passed before the light of his horn went out. "The sprained ankle I could fix in a second, it will be no problem. The arm has already healed enough that I can complete the process, but I would need to sustain the spell for about five additional seconds and would need you to be held relatively still for those five seconds. It would be intense pain for that entire duration. It's up to you whether you want me to do it or wait until it finishes healing naturally, which will still be a few days. Five additional seconds of pain can feel like an eternity, so you might decide not to. Do you want me to heal the ankle and then decide about the arm?"
"If you can do both, then do both. I can stand six seconds of pain," Wendy assured him. It was worth it to get her full mobility back.
He nodded. "You'll need to be restrained to keep you from jerking around. Auntie, can you do it?"
"Give a second to get a grip on this enhanced power. I don't want to hurt her by accident," Miss Newman quickly said and lit her horn.
A nearby bench glowed the same blue color as her horn. It was only glowing for about a second before the entire bench was crushed into a ball.
Miss Newman gasped, and the light went out on her head. "No! No way! I'm not going to even try to lift my Bible until I'm used to this. How much fucking power did that dragon give me?!"
"A lot," old Andrea said grimly. "She didn't just push you into the strong territory; you're up there with Starlight Glimmer levels of strength. Heaven, please help us. The world did not need that."
"I was trying to be gentle!" Miss Newman exclaimed.
The guards were whispering to one another in fearful tones. Old Andrea was shaking her head in exasperation. Shǔguāng blinked and looked at his mother in disbelief. Wendy was staring at the bench with her eyes so wide they felt like they might pop out. Miss Newman was not going to touch her with any magic ever after that. Holy shit!
Charles took it in incredible stride. He set Andrea carefully down on the floor and sat down next to Wendy. "I can hold your leg still. We don't need magic for that. I'm not sure I can keep the rest of you still for a full six seconds. I'm guessing he means very still. Otherwise, he wouldn't have asked Miss Newman."
"Auntie's name is Sunset Blessing, not Miss Newman. She only uses that name when she is going out in public as a human," Shǔguāng scolded, sounding offended that they'd addressed his mother by the wrong name. Wendy found that hypocritical, considering she was his mother, and he called her Auntie.
"The arm can wait. Being able to walk again is good enough," Wendy replied. "Go ahead, Charles, grab the leg."
Charles nodded and took a firm grip on her leg. Even that much hurt and Wendy tightly gripped the side of the bench with her free hand and eyes closed.
"Whenever you are ready," Charles said.
The discomfort suddenly surged into a massive spike of agony, and Wendy screamed and involuntarily jerked her leg back, but Charles had a good grip. It was over as fast as that, without even any discomfort.
"You can open your eyes. It's over, and you should be able to stand pain-free. I'll see if I can find a unicorn later who can hold you still without breaking every bone in your body in the process."
"I'm sorry, I had no idea I was that strong!" Miss Newman said in a pleading tone.
"And think, you could have turned all four of those fanatical freaks into paste instead of letting yourself and mini-me get shot," old Andrea said dryly.
"I didn't know! Triss didn't tell me!" Miss Newman fumed.
Old Andrea snorted. "Perhaps it is for the best. Yeah, it would have been good to have avoided this, but you'd probably have leveled the entire house in the process and killed all of us."
Wendy stood up, testing her leg. It seemed perfectly fine, like she'd never injured it at all. Charles picked Andrea up and stood up beside her. Andrea stirred in his arms and began opening her eyes.
"Keep her calm," Miss Newman warned. "We can't afford for her to have a surge. It could fry the necklace. Honestly, it would be best if she were kept asleep."
"I don't know how to do a sleep spell. You never taught me," Shǔguāng said accusingly.
"I haven't taught you a lot of spells I never had the power for," Miss Newman replied. "I'm not going to try. The way things are now, I could put her into a coma. Just keep her calm."
Andrea blinked a few times and looked around. "What's going on? Why's everybody looking at me?" She spotted Andrea and Shǔguāng and gasped, then tried to scramble out of her father's arms to safety.
He gripped her tighter. "Andrea, it's okay! These are friendly ponies. One of them is future you, the one with the sparkly fur. Say hi."
Andrea stopped struggling and turned around to look. Wendy was unsure if it had even registered to Andrea yet that she was much smaller and had a tail and four legs. Andrea focused on old Andrea and blinked some more before waving a hoof timidly. "Hi."
Old Andrea waved a hoof in return. "Hi, kid. How are you feeling?"
"I'm feeling okay," Andrea replied, then noticed her leg for the first time. She stared at it for a second before crossing her eyes to stare at her muzzle. She then took her hoof and booped herself in the nose. After that, she started reaching for the necklace.
"No, no, no! Hooves off that!" Miss Newman said, rushing forward. "That stays on till we tell you to take it off, and you don't touch it with your hooves at all."
Andrea withdrew her hoof and turned her head to look at her backside. She looked at her tail and flipped it a few times. "Huh, that's not as weird as I thought it would be," was all she said.
"But it is a violation of Dreamwarden code… I need to learn what numbers we assign things. Arbiter, Yinyu, Ghadab, can someone help me out here? What's the code number? I don't normally do all this legal rule stuff," a disembodied voice rang out.
Miss Newman's face fell. "Oh, no. Is that who I think it is?"
Old Andrea nodded. "Yep, the Marshmallow has arrived. Time for even more insanity."
"Three-D? Really? Do we actually have a code that is labeled Three-D? That's kind of funny, considering I don't always operate in three-d," the voice continued. "Okay, violation of code Three-D! Something- something- something, you didn't ask permission to use mind magic, yadda-yadda-yadda."
"Kill me now!" Miss Newman whined.
"Well, I don't think it's that serious," the disembodied voice said, sounding confused. "We would need to have a trial for that, and I don't think there would be enough votes to kill you over it. I wouldn't vote to kill you."
"I didn't mean that literally!" Miss Newman yelled.
"Oh, that makes more sense. Um, did you do the thing or… oh, wait, Phobia is telling me now. I'm up to speed—I gotcha. I'm cool. Andrea Portsmith, you're fined five-hundred dollars," the disembodied voice said happily.
"Are you seriously fining me for saving someone's life!" old Andrea bellowed.
"Um, oh...wait, they just told me it was a life or death situation, and I shouldn't have done that, sorry about that," the voice said. Wendy still couldn't tell what gender the voice was. It didn't sound like a computer either.
Old Andrea snorted.
"But…" the voice continued. "Since I said it, now it is a Dreamwarden issued fine, and it stands."
"WHAT??!!" old Andrea screamed.
"Uh… you could try to dispute it with the OMMR guys. Once I say it, it's in their control. They're quick like that. You can say I made a boo-boo. I can confirm it, if that helps," the voice said apologetically.
Miss Newman slapped a hoof to her face. "I'll just pay the damn fine for her."
"I'm sorry. Phobia didn't really give me direction when she sent me over here, and I normally don't do this stuff without direction," the voice continued to apologize. "I'm the messenger and ears, not the enforcer. I don't know all this procedural stuff well."
Miss Newman shook her head. "Just don't make any more decrees without clearing it with the others, okay? Your words are as binding as theirs."
"Yeah, okay. They're already chewing me out and glaring at me," the voice answered. "Well, and laughing."
Little Andrea looked around. "Where is the voice coming from?"
"Probably a speaker, hun," Charles assured her.
A giant white amorphous blob appeared in the air above them, sporting a smiling face that looked like it was drawn on paper by a small child.
"No, speaker, well, other than me, the person speaking, which is technically a speaker. Hi! I'm the Marshmallow!"
Andrea wasn't sure if she was dreaming. She had woken up as a pony, and nobody had told her why. Being a pony didn't seem weird at all, which meant this had to be a dream. That was the only thing that made sense. Everything made sense in a dream, even when it shouldn't.
So when she stared at the Marshmallow, she was not afraid because she knew that it too was a dream, and dreams can't hurt you.
"W-what is that thing?!" her mom asked in a frightened tone.
The Marshmallow got smaller and rounder, but kept the smiling face. "I'm the Marshmallow! I just said that. Weren't you listening? The bestest, greatest, funniest, Dreamwarden there is! Relative to the tastes of the particular people I chose to survey, of course. Which is no more biased than most political surveys, I'll have you know."
"Dreamwarden?" Andrea's dad asked. "Isn't that what you said that creepy poem about while we were at Denny's?"
"Phobia is a Dreamwarden too," grownup Andrea pointed out.
"Phobia isn't a blob that appeared out of nowhere and gives me the creeps," Andrea's dad replied.
The Marshmallow bobbed up and down in excitement. "Oh! I know that poem! I wrote new verses. It goes, The Marshmallow is great. Yeah, yeah, yeah! The Marshmallow is great. Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
Miss Newman worked her mouth as if unable to get words out for a few seconds. "You're supposed to be the Warden of Creativity. How was that that bad? It wasn't even poetry!"
"I never claimed to be a poet. I work with more physical mediums, which is hard because I can't touch things, but I make it work. I'm creative," the Marshmallow answered, giggling.
"She's impossible," Miss Newman muttered.
"Hey! No dropping identifying pronouns!" the Marshmallow protested. "Now everybody here knows! It's supposed to be a secret!"
It paused and looked away for a second as if listening. Then turned back towards them and floated close to Andrea. She was still in her dad's arms, and he took several steps away from the floating white thing.
"Sunset Blessing, who is this little pony that your sister broke the rule with? She and your sister look like twinsies, but Arbiter… oh… Phobia just told me. Hi, little Andrea! You're so cute!" The Marshmallow floated away suddenly like it was jerking backwards. "You're a crystal pony, though, and one that doesn't know its powers. I think I'll keep my distance. Crystal ponies eating me give me such a headache."
That was more confirmation that this was a dream. Only in a dream could that last sentence make sense.
The Marshmallow turned and looked at Andrea's grownup self. "Sorry, I'm only partially asleep, so all of them talking at me at once gets confusing. Which they know! Be kind to your Marshmallow friend, guys! Talk one at a time! Anyway, I think I'm supposed to talk to you to get directions."
Grownup Andrea blinked. "Yeah… so, Sunset did some time-traveling and brought my family back with her from sixty years ago. Many of the guards saw, so we need the situation sworn to secrecy, your kind of secrecy. There are also some fanatics that are locked up that we need to keep quiet about this. Maybe there can be a plea deal or something where they get off easier if they take a warden vow of secrecy about the time travel and the family Sunset brought back with her."
The Marshmallow smiled wide. "Got it! Phobia says that the OMMR has agents and lawyers on the way. Is everybody still at the house? Nobody I need to track down?"
"Everyone should still be in the house," grownup Andrea answered.
"Goodie! That makes it easy!" the Marshmallow exclaimed, then seemed to listen to something no one else heard again. "Phobia needs to talk to you guys! I'll put her on."
The Marshmallow shifted shape and now appeared as a mirror and in that mirror was another pony or a pony shadow with glowing eyes.
"Sorry about the Marshmallow. I did send her in unprepared," the pony in the mirror said. A giant banner appeared around the edge of the mirror that read, She did! And she's a poopy head for it!
Grownup Andrea raised an eyebrow. "She is giving newsfeed commentary about what you're saying."
The banner shifted and now read, Snitch!, and shadow pony sighed. "Since my mother already compromised the Marshmallow's gender to you, I can say she and her, but please, keep that to yourselves. It is for her protection. We have male red herrings, including our two most prominent ones, and it would be best if the public didn't eliminate them as possibilities to the Marshmallow's true identity. As for the commentary, whatever makes her happy. It's not like this is a government meeting or press meeting, where it would be unprofessional and make us look bad. The Marshmallow does a lot for me, and I appreciate how hard she works. She is an essential part of the Dreamwardens who makes our jobs easier through her efforts. If she is unhappy with the position I put her in today, then she can express her displeasure however she wants."
The banner shifted again and now had just a bunch of hearts and smiling faces. Andrea guessed that what the shadow pony said made the Marshmallow happy.
"Getting back on track. I have arranged doctors for Andrea," the shadow pony continued. "They will not be in Denver until late tonight. They have to be flown in. Agents are already arranging with your closest hospital for a secured operating room. Doctor Patel will oversee the surgery and has picked out a team for this; they've been ready for something like this for years and have already been briefed on the procedures they need to take for working with a temporary transformation patient in critical condition. A team of trained guards in a regular car will arrive to take her there when the doctors are touching down at the airport. I know it may be traumatic, but you may need to quickly reset the necklace tonight before she leaves. I don't want anything to go wrong, and it may be very late tonight. I must also advise that this will be unlikely to be a short operation. It could take days due to its delicate nature. The doctors will need rest throughout it, and so will Andrea. How many days of charge does the necklace have left? I need to advise Patel how much time they have to work, so he knows how to partition their time."
"Is my daughter going to make it through this?" Andrea's mom asked, interrupting and sounding afraid.
The shadow pony looked at Andrea's mom. "You are the young version of my grandmother. I'm sorry we have not been properly introduced. I'll take time to meet with you in person soon enough. As for your question, Doctor Patel is an outstanding doctor with more than forty years of experience, and his team is among the best. I cannot guarantee anything, but I have strong faith in their ability to accomplish this. As I said, they've been prepared for years for this. It is a very high likelihood they will be successful. I would trust my own foals and grandfoals to them, and I am trusting a version of my aunt. I do not do that lightly. My family is just as important to me as it is to my mother."
"Miss shadow pony talks a lot," Andrea observed out loud.
Her dad rubbed her head behind the ears. "Don't be rude, hun." The ear rub felt good.
"No, she's right. I told you that Phobia could carry on," grownup Andrea said with a grin. "Just don't get her started on philosophy. She'll never shut up."
The shadow pony blinked. "I apologize. I try to be thorough in what I say, but I know I have a tendency to monologue. I hope I have at least given some reassurance. Mom, I am still awaiting your reply. That is pertinent information that the doctor needs to know."
"It has four and a half days of charge. I can get a more accurate number, down to the hour, in a little bit, but I need to confirm some times with the younger versions of your grandparents. The last few days have been hectic," Miss Newman answered.
"The rough estimate helps. Thank you, Mom. If someone who got a good look at the wound can take a nap soon, that would also be helpful in getting information to Patel," the shadow pony replied, not saying as much this time. Maybe she was embarrassed she'd talked so much a second ago?
"I can take a nap if that will help, but I don't understand," Andrea's dad said, looking up at the mirror.
The shadow pony looked unhappy. "Thank you for offering, but I need someone with magic to—"
"He has magic! They all do!" grown-up Andrea shouted.
The shadow pony blinked. "I see. I will concern myself with getting an explanation for that later. In the meantime, Arbiter can meet you in your dreams and extract an image of the wound, as well as additional information about the incident itself. She can pass the information onto Patel with your permission to do so. It isn't perfect, as memories can be far from perfect, especially during a highly stressful situation, but every piece of information the doctors have going into this helps."
Andrea was bored. The shadow pony talked too much. Where was the fun of being a pony in her dreams if she had to spend the whole time listening to grownups talk? "Dad, let me down. I want to walk around."
"I'm not sure—"
"Keep her calm and happy!" Miss Newman hissed at him.
Her dad bent down and placed her on the ground. "Okay, hun, but stay close by and in sight."
Andrea took a few steps around, getting used to the feel of walking on four legs. It felt easy enough, like something she had been doing her whole life. Then again, this was probably a dream, which meant it should be easy. It would be a pretty cruddy dream if she couldn't even walk right.
The grownups were still talking, and she had no interest in listening. It seemed like they were talking about her, but none of it had made sense before, and it still didn't now. Maybe they were talking about the old and ugly version of her. She knew that version couldn't be real, because she would never get so old and wrinkly. Charlotte's old version didn't look so wrinkly, and Charlotte was only four years younger than her, so all those wrinkles didn't make sense. Plus, Andrea's mane was green; she could see it. That old pony's mane looked like it was metal or something because it was both shiny and grey, not just standard old person grey. It wasn't the same at all. It was a dream, so it didn't matter. There had to be something more interesting around her than their boring talking.
She walked over to where a man was sitting in a chair, looking at a bunch of TV screens. She'd seen this kind of stuff in movies before. This was where the cameras watched all the rooms in the house. There were a lot of TV screens. Not all of them looked at rooms; some of them had pictures that looked like the outside. She spotted a pool with two really really old ponies lying next to it under an umbrella. Why were there so many old ponies around here? Was this like one of those… what were they called? Old people's home? Nursing homes? Retirement homes? Funny farms? Her dad listened to a song about funny farms before, but she wasn't sure what those were, but it seemed like where they locked crazy people up. There were lots of guards, and some of these people seemed crazy, like the Marshmallow thingie, so maybe this was a funny farm.
After looking from screen to screen, she spotted her sisters. They were in a big room with pinball games, arcade games, television, paddleball, and even a tiny stage with a microphone. There were three more ponies, stallions, in there, watching them. Her sisters were both sitting on stools playing an arcade machine! Why did they get to hang out in the fun room while she had to sit in this boring one with shadow ponies who never shut up?
She looked at her parents and pointed a leg at the TV. "Can I go play with Kristin and Charlotte? They look like they're having fun."
Her parents looked at each other as if each was asking the other to make the decision. That was good. She usually got what she wanted when that happened.
"It should be fine. We can't keep her under lock and key for hours," Miss Newman said. "Andrea, take young Dad…. take Charles to one of the bedrooms. It's best just to address them by name instead of saying titles. You can be Auntie Andri."
"Fine, I can live with Auntie Andri," the wrinkly version of Andrea conceded.
"You hear that, Andrea?" her mom said with a smile. "Call the future you, Auntie Andri, from now on. Won't that be easier?"
Andrea rolled her eyes. "Fine, whatever, but can I go play with Kristin and Charlotte?"
"I'll lead you and your mom to them," Miss Newman said. "Just remember, keep that necklace on."
The Marshmallow had resumed being a big white blob. Andrea guessed the shadow pony was finally done talking. The Marshmallow smiled. "I'll go find all those guards and start talking to the bad ponies!"
"Turn into something less conspicuous!" Miss Newman ordered.
The Marshmallow seemed to quiver and think. Then it went down to the ground and turned into a black-haired lady in a business suit. "Inconspicuous it is!" The Marshmallow then turned and walked straight through a wall.
"Sure, walk through the walls like they aren't there. That's normal," Auntie Andri said with a shake of her head.
Andrea thought it was a good idea and wondered why she hadn't thought of that. This was a dream, so walls didn't mean anything.
She turned and looked at the nearest wall and wiggled her rump a little as she prepped herself, then took off running.
"OWWW!"
"Did almost dying give mini-me brain damage or something?! Why did she do that?"
One of the ponies that had been watching the girls, the one that understood video games, told them he needed a nap. That left them with the other two stallions, the earth ponies— Wendy was trying to learn the pony types and what each type did, as well as people's names and how they were related. It was basic information she needed to know if they were going to make a life here.
The two earth pony stallions were named Sinker and Hé Líng, or just Líng for short. Líng was one of Miss Newman's sons. Sinker was a little more closed-mouthed, and she guessed he was nervous around them. The reason was understandable; Sinker was her son, one that she knew she would never have, a fact he knew as well.
"The pool will be a good place for little Auntie and little Aunt Ami to relax. Little Aunt Andrea probably shouldn't go in since the necklace might come off, but she can stretch her legs. A filly needs room to run around," Líng said as they walked.
"Just call them Andrea, Charlotte, and Kristin, and I'm Wendy, not your grandmother," Wendy replied, then looked at Sinker. "Or your mother. It's like Miss Newman says, it's best to stop thinking of us being the same people."
"Sunset Blessing, not Miss Newman," Sinker corrected in a low voice. He then lifted his head. "Yeah, best to think of you as different people. It's easier."
Líng, who was in the lead, suddenly stopped, and the rest of them stopped, sensing something wrong. Wendy looked forward and could see the pool. She also spotted the shoes of two ponies lying beside the pool.
"Maybe this was a bad idea," Líng said, taking a few steps backward and glancing at Wendy apprehensively.
"Is something wrong with the pool?" Kristin asked.
"We could do pony rides instead!" Charlotte exclaimed.
Andrea retreated away from her baby sister. "You aren't riding me. You're too big; you'll crush me!"
Wendy looked at the two pony shapes in the distance. She didn't need to be told why those two ponies gave Líng pause. In her gut, she knew who they were. Could she face them?
Sinker shook his head, staring down at the ground. "They'll have to meet sooner or later. They aren't the same people. We need to keep reminding ourselves that. I'll go ahead and talk to them first, so the shock doesn't kill them, and they won't think they're going crazy. Just wait here."
The stallion walked on ahead as the rest of them watched.
"What's wrong, Mommy?" Charlotte asked.
Wendy shook her head. "It's nothing. You know how there are old versions of you here? Well… those ponies out there are your father and me."
"They must be super old," Kristin gasped.
"Yeah," Líng confirmed, still looking nervous.
Wendy had an obvious realization at that moment. "Hold it; the girls don't have bathing suits. They don't even have a change of clothes. They can't go swimming."
"Oh, humans, forgot," Líng replied, embarrassed. "It's only ponies here, and we don't care about nakedness. No humans will see them other than you."
"Aren't there cameras watching us?" she asked, looking around. She didn't spot anything, but she'd seen the security monitoring cameras earlier.
Líng looked around. "Yeah, I'm so used to it I don't think about those anymore. If you want them to swim in their clothes, I can find someone to dry them off after. Any pegasus should be able to do it and some of the unicorns."
She considered. She didn't want to bring the girls out here and then tell them they couldn't get in the pool.
"Kristin, Charlotte, when we get over to the pool, you can take off everything but your panties. That way, all your clothes don't get soaked." They were young enough they could get away with that. Neither of them had started developing anything yet. Andrea would have been a slightly different story, even if there wasn't much, but she wasn't getting in the pool or wasn't even a human at the moment. All three girls knew how to swim, and there were plenty of adults watching, so she wasn't concerned on that front.
Aw, crap. The few things they brought were still down in Miss Newman's workshop, scattered around the floor. She'd need to ask about that later.
"Okay, Mommy," Charlotte answered. Kristin just nodded, still watching Sinker talking to the ponies by the pool.
A minute or so later, Sinker returned. "They've been briefed, so they won't have heart attacks or anything when they see you. They seem kind of excited to watch the kids swim. If you want to talk to them, I think it would be alright. Actually, you might hurt their feelings if you avoid them, but I'm sure they'll understand. Mom and Dad are pretty considerate of others."
She nodded but kept quiet without committing to anything. She didn't know for sure what she was prepared for yet.
Líng directed them to follow him, and they proceeded towards the pool.
As they got close to the pool, she could make out the two old ponies. The adult Andrea may have looked old, but these two looked ancient by comparison. Both were heavily wrinkled, and both seemed very thin, practically skin and bones with fur draped over. Despite that, they were awake and alert and were watching expectantly as the kids came near the edge of the pool.
"Stay on that side of the pool, and don't cross the halfway mark," Líng instructed as the two started to undress. "That side is shallower and safer. Im a certified lifeguard and will be watching you. So if I tell you to go back because I think you're getting too deep, go back. No diving and no horseplay!"
"Okay, Mister Líng," Kristin and Charlotte answered, giggling, slightly out of sync with each other.
"Andrea, stay out of the pool and stay in sight," Wendy instructed.
Andrea flipped her tail. "I'd rather run around anyway."
"As long as you stay in sight," Wendy instructed.
"I will," Andrea answered, and did a quick run from one side of the pool to the other, and then stopped to look at the distance she covered. Maybe she was trying to see how fast she was.
Andrea seemed to be taking this whole pony thing well. Unfortunately, they were going to have to take the necklace off her a millisecond later on, which would revert her to human for that span of time in the same condition she had been in when she put the necklace on. That tore Wendy's heart up because it seemed like putting Andrea through that pain again. Hopefully, they would sedate her first. No child should have to endure that, and never one of her daughters.
The pool was set up so that you could wade into the water on one side instead of having to climb a ladder or the side of the pool to get in or out. That likely made sense for ponies. Traditional ladders and pony hooves didn't seem like they would be compatible. Charlotte took a few steps into the water and retreated.
"It's cold!" Charlotte objected.
Líng stuck one of his legs in the pool and then withdrew it. "The temperature is fine. You need to get used to it."
Wendy looked out at the trees in the distance, just now wondering what time of year it was. Before, she had automatically thought it had been November because they had just had Halloween, but the leaves were far too green. The temperature didn't feel too chilly or too hot either. Nothing required that they showed up in the future in the same month of the year or even the same season as when they left. Perhaps it was spring, or maybe very early or very late summer.
Kristin waded into the water faster. Being the more experienced swimmer, she knew the best way to adjust was to get wet. Charlotte whined but followed after her big sister.
Wendy stood on the side of the pool, watching her daughters get used to the water and making sure they were okay. If there was a problem, there wasn't much she could do about it, still be handicapped by one arm. When both of them started to doggie paddle around, she relaxed and carefully started to try to sit down by the edge of the pool.
"There's a lawn chair over here, suited for humans if you want to sit with us."
Wendy looked across the pool to an area she had been avoiding. The old mare was looking at her expectantly and hopeful, gesturing with a leg to a chair beside her. The old stallion was smiling contentedly as he focused on watching the kids swim, but he did briefly glance her way. Sinker was standing far away, giving his parents space, but seemingly ready to spring to their side if any need arose. The ponies were lying on mats despite having several pieces of lawn furniture near them.
She could put it off longer, but she did have to talk to these two eventually. Rejecting their offer would only get her off on the wrong foot with them. Taking a deep breath, Wendy got up and walked around the pool's edge to join them.
She saw the stallion whispering to the mare as she approached, but she didn't hear what was being said. The mare seemed to be slightly out at whatever was said before giving the nod to him.
She reached them and stood before them, unsure about what to say.
"Um… hi," she greeted them.
The mare beamed at her. "Hello, Wendy! Take a seat. I'm Dry Soil, or just call me Dry. This handsome stallion beside me is Hook Line, or just Hook."
Pony names. She and Charles had both taken pony names. That was somehow disturbing and comforting at the same time. At least she had another way of thinking of them than future her and future Charles. Still, what in the world would possess her to make her want to change her name to Dry Soil of all things?
"Nice to meet you," she quietly said and took her seat.
The ponies seemed to read her nervousness and didn't say anything else for the time being.
Wendy looked around to make sure Andrea hadn't wandered off. She spotted the little pony on the edge of the pool, squatted down, and sticking her hoof in the water.
"Andrea! Stay out of the pool! You aren't supposed to do anything that could make that necklace accidentally come off!" she shouted fearfully.
Andrea got up and backed away from the pool's edge. "I wasn't going to go in! I just wanted to know what the water felt like."
Wendy took another calming breath. "Please, keep your distance. I don't want you to get hurt."
"I'm not made of glass, Mom!" Andrea protested.
"Andrea—" Wendy began.
"Okay!" Andrea shouted before stomping off towards a bush.
Wendy relaxed but kept an eye on her still. The other eye stayed glued to the younger two, who were splashing each other now in the shallowest part of the pool.
"Andrea always has been a bit headstrong," she heard Dry Soil say. "She's was a good filly… excuse me… girl, though, for the most part, anyway. We had our arguments, especially when she was a teen, but teens always argue with their parents. They want to assert their independence. Andrea grew into a fine woman and mare. She might cuss more than I like, but she's very principled. She always does what she believes to be right, even if it isn't the easy choice. She'll curse and complain, but she'll be first in line to take action."
Wendy nodded. "I hope my Andrea grows up the same, minus the cussing."
Hook chuckled. "Good luck with keeping that part out."
"How did you hurt your arm?" Dry asked. "I never had my arm or leg in a cast."
Wendy rubbed her hand against the cast. "A pony knocked me into the street back in our time, then Miss...Sunset Blessing hurled me onto the sidewalk using magic so Charlotte and I wouldn't get run down by a van. I landed hard both times."
Dry's ears sagged. "I'm sorry to hear that. It's horrible the things people will do to try to hurt my daughter. I should count my blessings that they don't try that on me. I'm so fragile that falls like that might kill me. I've been old so long I don't seem to remember ever being as young as you."
"Could have fooled me. You barely look a day older than her," Hook said with a grin.
"You just want to have me let my guard down so you can go after the younger model!" Dry said, laughing.
"Why would I? You're so much more beautiful," Hook insisted.
The fact that this felt so much like a conversation Wendy had with Charles hours before, right down to the wording, gave her goosebumps. These might be elderly ponies who had lived very different lives from her point of life on, but this was a stark reminder they were still her and Charles.
The ponies seemed to calm down and focus on the girls again. It was quiet for well over a minute before they chose to speak again.
"I never thought I would ever see my little girls like this again," Dry said quietly. "You should watch them every moment you can while they're children and burn the images into your mind. They're so young and so carefree for so little of their lives, then they are adults, doing adult things, and don't have time anymore to be young and innocent. They're still your babies, but they don't need you to care for them anymore, and it feels...I don't know if I'm explaining this right, but… try to treasure this. I know I'm going to."
And so they sat in quiet and listened to children splash, laugh, and play as if those were the most critical things in the world, and for the moment, perhaps they were.
The time came and went to take Andrea to the hospital. They wouldn't let Wendy or her husband in the room when they had to take the necklace temporarily off her, but Wendy saw the bloodstain on the agent's jacket when he was carrying her sleeping form out of the house. Andrea still bled just as profusely in that little bit of time if he had gotten that much blood on him in less than a second. That knowledge only put Wendy's nerves more on edge.
Now she and Charles sat at a dining room table with Sunset Blessing, Amicus, Amicus's husband, and Líng. Older Andrea— Andri, had gone to the hospital with her younger self and Shǔguāng. Sinker had a job to go to early in the morning and couldn't stay up on account of that. Dry Soil and Hook Line were too old to stay up late, even for this, and Wendy was unsure they were even fully aware of what was going on with Andrea. She knew she hadn't told them. The other two girls were in bed, each in their separate rooms, and Mèng was patrolling the halls to make sure they stayed in bed. Sunset Blessing said this was not unusual behavior for a pony of his type; they were instinctually predisposed to guard over others at night.
The remains of delivery pizza sat on the table, half-eaten. Sixty years later and people still ordered pizza when they didn't want to cook and had money to spare. The toppings had changed—pineapples, avocados, broccoli, cauliflower, and even macaroni and cheese, really? Still, it was pizza. She occasionally picked at some of it, but she didn't have much of an appetite; no one did. They were all waiting for word from the hospital, but the phones had remained silent since Andri had last called to say that Andrea was going into the surgery room. That had been two hours before.
A grandfather clock ticked away in the distance, an occasional guard walked by the door, but all was quiet.
Líng cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention. "I know this isn't the right time, but we aren't doing anything else right now, so… Anyway, Auntie, I was asked to come in for a job interview next week."
Miss Newman, Sunset Blessing, had been holding a cup to her mouth with her forelegs, but set it down slowly, eyes fixed on her son.
"A job interview?" she asked slowly. "Where and doing what?"
"Uh… yacht sales," Líng said, not meeting her gaze.
"Yacht sales in Colorado? We don't have anywhere for people to sail yachts in the mountains," Sunset Blessing said in a suspicious tone.
"It's in San Diego," Líng said sheepishly.
The unicorn's eyebrows rose. "San Diego? California, San Diego?"
"That's the only San Diego I know, Auntie," Líng replied, ducking down like he was afraid.
She glared at him. "You need to show some more confidence if you hope to do sales. Lift yourself up, colt. I didn't raise you to cower."
"I think it could be a good opportunity for the colt," Amicus chimed in. "You know he loves being near water and anything to do with the sea or boats and all that stuff."
"I'm not disputing that," Sunset Blessing replied, still staring down her nervous-looking son.
"You can't keep him under guard here forever, Sunset," Amicus pleaded.
Sunset Blessing turned her attention to her sister. "Did he ask you to go to bat for him in this?"
Amicus looked away. "Perhaps he did. It doesn't mean what I'm saying is less true. I fully support him."
Sunset Blessing grimaced and turned back towards her son. "And did the fact it is so far away factor into this choice?"
Líng sat up. "I want to be near the ocean, Auntie. No matter which ocean it is, it will end up being far away. I mean, I'm not doing it to get away from you; otherwise, I would have looked in Maine or something."
The old unicorn looked away and sighed. "Are you confident you can do this? I know you know the material, but sales is a different field."
"I can be confident when talking about seacraft," Líng asserted. "You know this is my thing. There will never be a job locally that I will ever love. Plus, I could make a lot of money doing this."
"And I figure they know you're my son," Sunset Blessing said in a flat tone.
"They did do a background check," Líng answered.
"Then I want a background check on them before I give my blessing," the old unicorn said with a tone of finality. "If they don't pass my expectations, I'm not paying for you to go out there. I'll talk to friends elsewhere that I know can find safe places to work doing things with boats and stuff."
"But that will be you controlling things," Líng complained. "I don't want to get away from you, but I do want the freedom to live my own life!"
"I'll run the check, Sunset, but you need to give him space," Amicus asserted. "You live too much of your life in fear. Your foals shouldn't have to do that. That's why Lántiān and Drizzle rarely ever visit. You try to control everything to keep them safe."
"Pegasi are too independent of spirit," Sunset muttered. "Lántiān knows how much I worry. Drizzle is old enough to understand why I do things the way I do."
"They both know how much you love them, but nopony wants to be kept in a cage for the sake of safety. That isn't just a pegasus thing," Amicus countered.
"You're here, Andrea is here, Mom and Dad are here, Shǔguāng and Mèng are here," Sunset listed off.
"Mèng is still trying to figure out his life, just like Líng," Amicus fired back, adjusting her glasses as they slipped. "Shǔguāng is obsessed with learning from you and becoming a great mage, not to mention protecting you, so this is where he wants to be. As for the rest of us, in case you haven't noticed, we're old, we've lived our lives, and we want to support you and keep in touch with our kids. Líng needs his chance to live his life."
"I said do the background check on the business. I didn't say no," Sunset hissed. "You can support me by not fussing that I'm being too cautious."
"They've been in business for over forty years," Líng said helpfully.
"And your aunt, who has lots of legal research experience, can verify that," Sunset said quickly.
Amicus laid her head back and groaned. "Even Phobia isn't as controlling as you! I don't want your foals to resent you. I'm protecting you and them. I might be the big fighter that you, Andrea, or some of your grandkids are. I don't go on adventures, but I can tell you when you aren't being fair to yourself or the ones you love."
"You say adventures, I say fighting for dear life," Sunset said. "You don't know what it's like staring down people that want to destroy you and everything you love."
"I might be a coward when it comes to physical confrontation, but I'm a lawyer, and when it comes to an argument, I will fight until they bury me in the ground," Amicus said smugly. "I'm not backing down."
Wendy felt the need to interject. She slapped a hand down on the table, and she locked eyes with Sunset Blessing. "Excuse me, but are you going to do the same to me and my family?"
Sunset Blessing paused. "I… you need time to adjust to this time period. We still need to establish identities for you."
Amicus grinned. "Lucky for all of you, I've been hard at work."
Líng blinked. "You really were doing paperwork?"
Amicus scowled at her nephew. "Yes, I really was doing paperwork, making calls, and pulling every string I know how to pull. This is family, and I will do what I can to help my family, in my own way."
"Calling who?" Sunset Blessing asked.
The old earth pony shrugged. "Wild Growth, Phobia Remedy, some lawyer friends, my son— you know, Martin."
Sunset Blessing rolled her eyes. "Yes, we know Martin is a congress member. You only mention it a dozen times a week. My daughter is a Dreamwarden, so I'm not impressed."
Amicus sniffed. "Well, he had to get elected. A foreign power just appointed Phobia. I think Martin should get credit for that. And if I only mentioned it a dozen times a week, then I haven't mentioned it enough."
"Haley, Dennis, and Edgar are all doing well for themselves too, and we are just as proud," Legal Brief, Amicus's husband, cut in for the first time.
"Although Edgar needs to change her name. I was fine when she ended up transforming into a mare instead of a stallion during the pandemic, but I wish she would change her name! That is not a mare's name. I've given her so many suggestions, human and pony style ones, and she never listens," Amicus said with a disparaging shake of her head.
"I think she keeps it to drive people nuts. More power to her," Legal Brief said, chuckling.
"It drives me nuts. She should be more kind to her poor old mother!" Amicus lamented.
"Earth to Ami, we need you back on track," Sunset said in an annoyed tone.
"What was I saying?" Amicus asked with a frown.
"You were telling us about the progress you made with getting our time-traveled doppelgangers new identities," Sunset said dryly.
"Oh, yes, that," Amicus replied, sitting up. "Considering the government wants to keep this hush-hush, and Wild Growth and my son are on their respective magic security committees, I can get them into essentially the witness protection program. New social security numbers, false high school diplomas and school records, fake work and tax history, the works. We don't have to change their names and only need to advance their birth year by sixty years, not change the month and day; that should make some things easier. The process should take about a month, maybe less."
"So, what year am I officially born in?" Charles asked.
Amicus tapped her hoof on the table as if counting. "Two-thousand fourteen. I can say you were kids during the pandemic and didn't register magic at the original testing time. That should explain you not being registered as human magic users previously. It works out well."
The tune of Amazing Grace started playing, and all the ponies turned towards Sunset Blessing. She lifted a foreleg and tapped some sort of watch or something on her other leg.
"Sunset here. Is that you, Andrea?"
There was the sound of sniffling on the other line like someone was crying. "Y-yeah, it's me."
Wendy practically jumped out of her seat. "What's wrong? Is something wrong with my daughter?!
"I-I'm sorry. The doctors...they say the injuries…the injuries are worse than originally thought."
"What are you saying?!" Sunset yelled.
"They put the necklace back on her, so she's stable for now, but if she has to go without it for more than thirty seconds….I'm sorry. She's got four days till that charge runs out."
Wendy fell against Charles, sobbing, and he cried against her as he held her.
Wendy got up. She was going to beat the shit out of Sunset, one arm or not. Sunset Blessing had said that Andrea would be alright. Others had promised that too, but now, sixty years in the future, they were saying it couldn't be done. Andrea had only been in that position because they had gone through with that insane plan to come to the future.
She looked across the table; Sunset Blessing was gone. Everybody but her and Charles were gone.
"Guards! Please help me! Sunset's going to do murder!" Amicus screamed from somewhere outside the dining room.
"Get the prisoners to a more secure location! Sunset has blood in her eyes!" Legal Brief yelled, also somewhere in the distance.
"Auntie, stop! This won't change anything!" Líng pleaded.
Wendy started following but got knocked to the floor as a massive boom echoed through the air, and the entire house shook.
"HOLY FUCK! WHY IS SHE THIS STRONG! SHE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THIS STRONG!" Amicus screamed.
"Auntie, please stop! I'm begging you! You're going to kill everyone in the house trying to take your vengeance!"
Wendy and Charles scrambled through the dining room door and stopped in their tracks. A dozen guards had assault rifles aimed right at Sunset Blessing, who had collapsed down on the floor, sobbing. The entire front door was just gone, as well as its doorframe and part of the wall. There was fiery debris littering the floor, and Líng was calling out to guards to get fire extinguishers. Sinker was standing at the head of a staircase, looking so terrified he could run at any second. Legal Brief was holding Amicus as she sobbed against him.
One of the guards gestured to them. "Please go back into the dining room for the time being, for your protection. Miss Blessing does not seem to be in her right mind and presents a very clear and present danger."
Sunset Blessing started standing up, and the guards took tighter grips on their weapons. It was a tense few seconds where it seemed they might fire.
"I'm fine," the unicorn said in a tired voice, ignoring the fact that guns were pointed at her. "Well, no, I'm not fine, but I'm under control."
"You could have killed me!" Amicus screamed, looking up at her sister.
Sunset flinched at that. "I… I know. I'm sorry."
"Why the hell are you so strong?!" Legal Brief demanded. "That was your sister, my wife you took a shot at!"
"I was…I still am… angry. I lashed out. It…it was unacceptable."
"Unacceptable?!" Legal Brief yelled. "That's your word for it?"
"I'm sorry," Sunset said again, weeping.
Legal Brief scowled. "Come on, Ami. We can go to a hotel tonight and start preparing to move out tomorrow."
Amicus's head shot up. "No! We're staying here."
"You can't mean that. She almost blasted you into cinders!" Legal Brief exclaimed.
"Sunset has a temper," Amicus said firmly. "These were extraordinary circumstances."
"This isn't something you can just blow off!" Legal Brief replied, looking aghast. "You know you sound like an abuse victim justifying their abuser, right?"
Amicus stared at her sister for a few seconds before answering her husband. "I'm scared; I'm not ashamed to admit that, but Sunset is my sister, and I'm not turning my back on her yet. If there is ever a hint of something like this happening again, we will go. If you insist on it now, I'll probably cave in, but I'll not forgive myself for walking away. We've lived here for years without an incident like this. I'm asking you to give her a second chance; just a second, there won't be a third."
Legal Brief's head sagged in defeat. "For you, she'll get her second chance. If she ever takes her rage out in your general direction again, we won't need the guards; I'll smash her skull in myself."
"If I ever hurt Ami, I'll let you do it," Sunset Blessing said despondently. "I know you all don't feel safe right now. The guards can confine me to my room for tonight, and Andrea can decide what to do in the morning."
"I think you should have an inhibitor ring on," Legal Brief half-snarled.
"That's not—" Amicus began.
"That's perfectly fair and reasonable," Sunset interrupted. "Someone get a ring. I won't fight it. My emotions are running wild, and my magic is far more potent than I know how to control. A ring just makes sense right now."
She seemed too calm. That seemed almost as worrying as the earlier outburst—a storm held in check.
"Are you sure, Auntie?" Líng asked. "You still don't seem right."
"That's because I'm not. I'm helpless and angry and upset, and if one more thing goes wrong, I could snap again. Have the guards get that ring," Sunset Blessing said in a very even, very controlled way. Wendy just now noticed how labored the unicorn's breathing was.
A guard did come and placed something around the old unicorn's horn. They then led Sunset Blessing upstairs with her giving one last sorrowful look at everyone down below.
Amicus took a deep breath and lifted her leg to show a similar watch thing. "I need to call Andrea. She needs to come take care of this."
"Aunt Andrea is already trying to cope with the little version of her," Líng said, then looked over at Wendy and Charles. "So are they."
"She still needs to come here. You saw what happened. That was Sunset coping. Maybe I should have let her just go down and murder those fanatics," Amicus said, flopping on her butt.
"She'd have been jailed for murder. They're detained and not an immediate threat. She couldn't claim self-defense," Líng said.
"I'm well aware; that's why I tried to stop her," Amicus snapped. "I just didn't think she would lash out at me."
"At least that took the fight out of her," Líng said, sounding like he was looking for any silver lining.
"Let her reclaim her sanity is more like it. I think she still wants to murder those ponies," Legal Brief said. "She's dangerous right now. We don't know if that sanity will hold."
"It will hold," Amicus said firmly. "She loves us more than she hates them." She then lifted her leg again and tapped on the watch thing a few times. "Andrea, are you there?"
"What the hell happened over there?" Andri demanded over the line. "I heard muffled shouting, then it sounded like an explosion, and the line went dead."
"Sunset went full psycho and tried to charge down to kill the prisoners, and when I tried to stop her, she took a shot at me," Amicus said. "Andrea, she's freaky strong. She missed me, and she about leveled the front of the house. The guards have an inhibitor ring on her and are locking her in her room. When are you coming home?"
"We're on our way back. I've got mini-me with me. She's sleeping. They gave her a heavy sedation spell. She should sleep on till morning. You can't even tell anything is wrong when she has this necklace on. She doesn't know she is dying."
Wendy started crying again. Charles did too as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. What were they going to tell the other girls? They had to be up after all that commotion. Mèng might be keeping them away, but they had to be up and wondering what happened.
What were they going to tell Andrea? How could they even talk about that with her?
"The doctors really gave up?" Amicus asked. "Phobia seemed so confident."
"Phobia and the doctors didn't know how bad this was. She already has failed organs, and a major artery has been burned away, not just broken or severed; the whole section just isn't there and just spilling blood out. It practically killed her for them to figure that out. If that unicorn were in sight when I heard that, I would have charged over to kill him too."
Amicus started to tear up again. "So there's no hope for her."
"There's one last chance, but no one is going to like it," Andri said grimly.
Wendy jerked her head up and ran towards Amicus, grabbing her leg and practically yelling into the watch. "What is it! What will save my daughter!"
"Oww! Don't yell like that! You'll hurt my ears and might wake the kid," Andri whined.
"What's your last option!" Wendy repeated.
Andri took a deep breath. "You aren't ready to hear this right now. It can wait until morning when I have time to assess the situation."
"Like hell! Tell me now! How can you be so heartless!" Wendy screamed and sobbed.
"Do you think it's easy for me to look down at a younger version of myself and know she is basically on life support with a time limit?" Andri harshly demanded. "I get that you're her mother, but this is fucking me that I'm looking at here. You've no idea how this feels. What's worse, I have to be the calm and rational one because no one else can be a rational adult right now, and I don't want to be that right now! I can't sit here and lose my shit like Sunset, and I can't turn into a crying mess like you or Ami. I have to make the hard decisions."
"Just tell me! I don't care if it is risky or I won't like it! Tell me how she can be saved!" Wendy cried.
Everything was quiet for several long seconds except for Wendy crying.
"Sunset is going to fix this," Andri said at last. "She's got all that power; then she's strong enough to cast the spell that is the real deal instead of that cheap knockoff she carries around in her necklace. She's the only pony on Earth who knows that spell, and there's no way we could get little me through the portal to Equestria in four days. There's too much red tape. That necklace would never make it through customs, even if we could get her through otherwise."
Amicus gasped. "That spell is illegal! Sunset would be sent to jail for it!"
"You're a lawyer, Ami; think like one," Andri hissed. "I can see the loophole, so should you. Those five don't technically exist right now. Not until the paperwork is done. Even if they did, and even if Sunset were to go to jail for it, she'd still do it. You know she would."
"What spell?" Wendy asked.
Andri seemed to ignore her. "Sunset needs to get a grip on her magic, and she has four days to do it. It should take her months at least to do that, but she's supposed to be this great mage who can use whatever she has been given and make more out of it. Well, now's the time to put that to the test."
"What spell!?" Charles yelled before Wendy could repeat herself.
Amicus shook her head. "She's talking about the real transformation spell, the permanent one. She wants Sunset to change Andrea into a pony permanently."
"We could get in trouble for just being associated and complicit with her doing that if someone decides to take action against her," Legal Brief warned.
"That's a little kid's life on the line, and in a way, my sister," Amicus stated slowly to her husband. "I accept those consequences if they come. The question is, can Sunset pull it together? Andrea, you didn't see her tonight."
"I believe you. I felt her enhanced power earlier, and I've seen her in a killing rage before. Her having both those things is a terrifying concept to contemplate, enough to make me piss myself, and I'm sure she is pissing all over herself too, thinking about it," Andri said in a low voice. "She has to pull it together. That's all I can say. We don't have other options."
Wendy blinked as consciousness returned to her and blinked some more when the daylight coming in from the window stung her eyes. She grunted and turned over, pulling her covers with her as she went. The problem was, there was no more bed in the direction she rolled.
"Oww!" she hissed as she collided with the floor. At least she seemed to have avoided landing on the bad arm.
Details were fuzzy. Why was the floor so hard? She touched it and felt the hardwood. There was no carpet. The blanket wrapped around her was equally unfamiliar. It took a few seconds, but where she was came back to her, and with it, the grim reality of the fantasy she had been living the last week. How many days had passed since the world had made sense? She wasn't sure.
She stood up and looked around. Charles and Andrea were already up and out of the room. She was still dressed in the same clothes she had been wearing for days, and she stank. That didn't matter in the big scheme of things, but it was another thing to make her feel worse, not that she imagined she could feel worse.
She remembered how she got in the room now. They had to sleep; they couldn't function without sleep. As soon as Andrea had come back, they had taken her to bed with them. Andrea was already asleep when she returned, so she couldn't see them cry, and Wendy and Charles had both cried themselves to sleep. Now, her eyes felt dry and crusty, as if every last drop of moisture that could have been killed had been exhausted.
"Find Charles and the girls. Find Andri. Find out if that crazy unicorn is under control. Pray nothing else has gone wrong," she listed off to herself as she dropped the blanket and stumbled towards the door.
As she exited into the hallway, she heard footsteps...no, hoofsteps approaching her, and she turned to see Mèng.
"Morning," Mèng said drowsily. "You're the last one up. I've been keeping an eye out. Your daughters and husband are having breakfast with Aunt Ami and Uncle Brief. If you look at that third door over there, it's a bathroom with fresh towels. No offense, but you smell bad. Everybody else has had a shower except you."
She wasn't going to disagree with that. "Where are your other aunt, your brothers, and your mother? Is your mother still under guard?"
He shook his head. "Aunt Andrea is watching her, and so are my brothers. There's a small chapel outside, and Auntie is there right now, praying. She seems...calmer, but she's still not right. She's got the ring on, but Aunt Andrea was talking about taking it off her."
Wendy took a deep breath. "She can't do anything with the ring on, right?" Mèng shook his head. "Well, take it off."
He did a small flap of his wings, maybe a nervous gesture. "They intend to. They want to be sure she's not going to blow any more holes in the house first. That's why she's praying. She's trying to find her calm. Auntie is… she gets very emotional. She can have big mood swings, dangerous mood swings. She can go murderous or suicidal or both under high levels of stress. Phobia thinks it is some type of depression or mood disorder, but it's never been properly diagnosed. She's had manic episodes as well before too, but she's normal most of the time. We'll have the ring off her soon. We just want to make sure it's safe. She's never been this strong, even in a rage, and she could have killed someone last night."
Emotional? That's what they were going to say? The fact that this was an elder version of Charlotte was troubling because these were problems Charlotte could develop too. Charlotte wasn't the primary concern now, Andrea was, but it was another thing to worry about.
"Okay," Wendy muttered. What else could she say? She'd seen what had happened, and now she was having to put everything on the elder version of Charlotte to save Andrea.
"Take a shower and go get something to eat. You need your strength," Mèng reiterated. "I'll let them know you are up." He flapped his wings again. "Please, don't be mad at Auntie. She's a kind person, and she's brilliant. She cares about everyone, especially family. Sometimes she cares too much. She's just… you have to learn how to handle her."
It explained why her sisters and parents stayed with her. They were there to wrangle her in and keep her under control when she had these episodes. Her kids might try, but there was always that parent dynamic in play that made her overrule them.
Wendy didn't say anything else to the pony; she just walked to the bathroom as directed.
Getting clean did make her feel a tiny bit better, with emphasis on the tiny. When she entered the dining room, she found Charles, Amicus, and the girls all gathered around a big computer screen that someone had set up on the table. There were some scraps from breakfast and half-finished glasses of milk sitting about as well.
Her eyes fell to Andrea, still in her pony shape, standing on the table and grinning as she looked at whatever was on the screen. No one must have told her yet that she was dying. Wendy was unsure if that was cruel or kind, but she knew she didn't have the strength to do it either, and Andrea looked so happy right now. The other two girls were probably unaware as well.
Charles looked at Wendy with a forced smile. "Morning. Amicus is introducing us to online shopping and says she'll pay for everything. We're picking out toys for the girls right now, and later we'll pick out bedding and clothes. She says most of it will arrive tomorrow, but some things might arrive as early as this afternoon or early evening. Isn't that amazing? Nothing like the old mail in order catalogs."
Wendy forced a smile. "Yeah, amazing."
Amicus looked at her, ears drooping and smile too tight. "We can order some things for you and your husband too. I know you must want a change of clothes. We need to take measurements for all of you. I'm not sure if sizes have changed since the eighties. Oh! And Shǔguāng found a unicorn to hold you still so he can do that spell to fix your arm. You'll be able to hold little Andrea soon."
Because I might not have chances in the future. That's what you're saying. Wendy thought bitterly. She tried not to get upset. Amicus was trying to be thoughtful, and it would be devastating not to be able to… she didn't want to think about it.
Kristin jumped off her stool. "Mom! Look what I can do!"
Kristin then grabbed ahold of the stool that Charlotte was sitting on and proceeded to lift it and her sister.
"Aww! Don't drop me!" Charlotte yelled.
"Kristin put your—" Wendy began to scold, pointing a finger, but her finger lowered, and so did her jaw as Kristin continued to lift Charlotte and the stool above her head. She didn't even seem to put much effort into it.
"Put me down! I'm going to fall!" Charlotte yelled with both hands gripped tightly to the stool.
"Put your sister down, carefully," Wendy finished, breathlessly. She held her breath while Kristin carefully lowered her sister down. As soon as the stool touched the floor, Charlotte slapped Kristin on the shoulder.
"Someone seems to have inherited some earth pony strength," Amicus said, half-frowning. "We heard that during the fight downstairs, she sent the fanatics' pegasus flying against the wall after ramming him. That explains how she managed that. Even an earth pony filly can hit like a horse."
"Nothing to report about Charlotte yet, or me," Charles said. "And we're trying to make sure Andrea doesn't do anything."
"I know, I know. It will mess up the necklace," Andrea grumbled.
Charles's mouth tightened as he nodded, then looked at Wendy. "Anything to report about you?"
She shook her head. "No, nothing unusual as of yet."
"That's actually good to hear," Amicus said brightly. "While Andrea might be sure you can do something, things should settle down first, and other concerns get addressed before we worry about that. Can't take on too much at once and expect to be productive."
How was she supposed to be productive? Andrea was dying, and there was nothing, NOTHING, that she could do to stop it other than hope that a manic-depressive pony could get her shit together. She was helpless and powerless and in a strange place surrounded by off-versions of people that mattered to her.
A guard came in and got their attention. "Excuse me, Miss Curea, ma'am. I didn't know who to report to, but Senator Growth is here."
Amicus jumped out of her seat. "Wild Growth is here? Now? I asked for her assistance, but I didn't expect her to show up here herself!"
"What should we tell her?" the guard asked.
Amicus was already moving. "We must go out and talk to her. Everyone, follow me, and be on your best behavior! This isn't anypony; this is Wild Growth!"
"Which means nothing to us," Charles said dryly.
Legal Brief came running out of the kitchen, tossing an apron aside as he went. "Just hurry along. Wild Growth is a legend, an even bigger deal than Sunset. Your future here could depend on her."
Wendy and Charles shared a look before gesturing for the girls to follow. "Come on, girls. Let's meet this pony. Someone help Andrea get down from the table."
"I'm fine!" Andrea said as she wiggled her rump and sprung off the table, landing on all fours.
"Don't do that! You could hurt yourself!" Wendy yelled, louder than she intended.
Andrea's ears sagged, and her tail went tightly between her legs. "I'm sorry. It was just a little jump."
"You're small enough that it was a big jump!" Wendy said, starting to cry again.
Charles grabbed her and pulled her aside, bending down to whisper angrily and quickly into her ear. "I don't want to be mean because I know your nerves are on edge, so are mine, but you can't upset Andrea. Amicus explained what it means to be a crystal pony, which is what Andrea is right now. Crystal ponies absorb and convert magic into different energy. If she gets upset, she can surge, and if she surges, she will absorb and convert the energy of the spell that keeps her alive. There is no hope then; she'll die. Miss Newman might need to get herself under control, but you do too. So help me, if I think you are endangering her any more than she already is, I will lock you in your room until Miss Newman is ready to try that spell. I love you, but I love Andrea too, and her life is the one on the line."
Wendy's eyes went wide. Charles had never spoken to her like that before. Never in their eleven years of marriage and never in all the time they were dating. However, what got her trembling was what he had said. She could be the one who ended up being responsible for Andrea's death. She couldn't let that happen.
"If it happens again, I'll lock myself away," she whispered. "Do what you need to."
They followed along out to the foyer, where a green earth pony wearing a suit jacket was gazing at the tarp-covered hole in the side of the building. She didn't look all that impressive. She was younger, maybe as young as the younger stallions. The most notable thing about her was she was the first pony Wendy had seen wearing any form of clothes.
"Wild Growth, this is unexpected," Amicus said subserviently as she approached. "I knew you would help us, but I didn't expect you to come yourself."
The green earth pony turned to look at them and gestured at the massive hole in the wall. "Sunset did this?"
Amicus stopped in her tracks and took a step or two back. "She was having a bad night last night."
Wild Growth nodded. "So it was reported to me. That's why I'm here. I was also told that she still needs to do something that I need to turn a blind eye to, and she doesn't have control of her magic. Where is she?"
Amicus gulped. "She's out in the chapel, with my sister and her sons. I— Brief, can you please go get Sunset and Andrea, now, please?"
Brief took off running at full gallop. Why did this pony elicit this much of a reaction? They said senator, which made her a government official, but they seemed to be reacting even stranger than that would account for. They hadn't reacted this way for the Marshmallow thing, which was supposedly very powerful and influential.
Wild Growth stopped looking at the hole in the wall and turned her attention to the girls. She took a few steps and stopped in front of the family, looking at each in turn.
The earth pony frowned at them. "So, she really brought back her family from the past. We can't have word get out that kind of thing is possible. The Dreamwardens have already dealt with the guards, and I'm told the detainees are still being negotiated with. It's not normal that people can just detain intruders like that, but Wabash Manor has its own special jurisdiction. Which one of you children is Charlotte?"
Charlotte raised her hand and jumped up and down. "Me! Me!"
Wild Growth smiled at the display. "A far cry from Sunset Blessing. I look forward to seeing how you grow up." The earth pony's eyes drifted over Kristin but didn't linger as she moved on to Andrea. "And you must be the brave little filly I have heard so much about. I'm told you saved your sister from some bad ponies."
"Yeah, I kind of forgot about that," Andrea said as if just remembering it for the first time.
"Well, I think that makes you a hero," Wild Growth said with a smile. "It’ll take me a bit but I’ll have to give you a special hero’s prize."
Kristin waved a hand. "I saved Mom from a bad pony!"
"Is that so?" Wild Growth asked, chuckling slightly. "A hero's prize for you too, and I'll have to give one to your little sister so that she doesn't feel left out. I'm already considering houses for your family and teachers to help you catch up."
"You seem very well informed," Amicus said breathlessly. "I didn't include all that in my message to you."
Wild Growth frowned at her. "I make sure I stay informed, especially when Sunset Blessing is involved. Do you blame me, given our history together?"
Amicus looked down. "No, I understand your desire to keep watch on my little sister, and I don't blame you for your caution. You've been nothing but generous and gracious in your treatment of her, all things considered."
"There is no need to be frightened of me. I mean her no harm," Wild Growth said placatingly. "If there is one pony in the world who will understand what she's feeling as she tries to control her new power, it is me. I'm here to help her so she can help others."
Andri and Sunset Blessing came walking in and came to a dead stop when they spotted Wild Growth. There was no sign of Legal Brief. Sunset Blessing still had the inhibitor ring on her horn.
Wild Growth looked at the ring and frowned. "That ring won't be necessary. You can remove it."
"Wild, I don't have a good grip on my strength right now. It isn't wise," Sunset Blessing said in a low voice.
"I'm aware," Wild Growth replied, and then she started stripping off her jacket. "You need to get control of your power, and you need to practice on something that isn't going to blow up under the pressure of your magic. Well, here I am. I'm your guinea pig. You might be strong now, but you're not strong enough to hurt me."
Sunset stepped back. "Wild, I don't want to hurt you. You're my friend."
"You can't hurt me any more than you already have. You can't imagine how much power I feel pressing against my insides every single day," Wild Growth said grimly, folding her jacket and setting it aside. "Can you think of any other pony, short of an alicorn, and maybe not even them, that you could safely practice on?"
"No… I can't," Sunset Blessing whispered.
Wild Growth nodded. "Then do what is needed. This is my gift to you and everyone you might be able to help. I can take the pain, especially when lives are on the line. Whatever you think you can do, it is nothing against my magic."
Amicus looked at Andri in confusion. "Is Wild Growth still that strong? She's supposed to be burnt out."
Andri licked her lips nervously. "I can feel her and Sunset. I can't tell you who is stronger. There's a saying among crystal ponies. When you stand at the edge of an ocean, they all go on forever."
"Who are you, and what's the big deal here?" Charles asked in confusion.
Sunset Blessing answered for the earth pony. "She is Wild Growth, Hero of the Cataclysm of Riverview, The New Demeter, senior US senator from South Carolina, vice-chair of the Senate Magic Safety Commission, Earth's Element of Generosity, and The Alicorn Who Wasn't. She is the most powerful pony ever born on Earth, by a large margin, and the most powerful earth pony ever known in either universe. Aside from being a senator, I doubt most of those things make sense to you without context, but she's also right. She is the only pony I can use my magic on right now without being able to seriously hurt. She can help me gain control."
"I don't endorse all those titles. I miss the days that the worst title I had to worry about was the Southern Slut," Wild Growth grumbled.
For the first time in a while, Sunset Blessing smiled. "We don't get to choose what others call us; otherwise, I would have a lot fewer titles too. I accept your help, Wild. Thank you."
"Can she really help her get a grip on her magic?" Wendy asked Amicus.
Amicus flicked her ears. "If anyone can. She can."
Andrea sat and watched her sisters trying on their new clothes. Her parents and old Kristin hadn't gotten her any clothes. She wasn't sure she wanted them; they had weird designs. Old Kristin said that all the kids were wearing clothes like that these days. In Andrea's opinion, that meant all the kids these days must be loser weirdos.
But the fact that her parents hadn't gotten anything for her still bothered her. She wasn't going to stay a pony forever. Didn't she need clothes too? She only had one set of clothes, and she wasn't even sure where those were. They'd given her back her Ewok toy and her blanket, but her clothes seemed to be gone. She hadn't asked about them, but now she was starting to worry.
"Mom, where are my clothes?" Andrea asked.
Her mom had been helping Charlotte try on this ugly red shirt that had something called Power Ponies on it, and she jerked when asked the question.
"Mommy! My head doesn't go in that hole!" Charlotte yelled with her head half sticking out of the sleeve. Why would anyone make sleeves that big? It just made the clothes more ugly than they already were.
"I'm sorry, baby," Mom said as she sorted Charlotte out. "Andrea, I'm not sure where they went. I think they got lost."
"So why didn't you get me new clothes?" Andrea asked. "I'm going to be naked when I have to take this thing off."
"You're naked now!" Kristin called out.
"I've got fur! It doesn't count, stupid!" Andrea yelled back.
"Don't call your sister stupid, please," Mom said. "We'll worry about clothes for you later."
"Why do I have to keep wearing this necklace? I thought it was bad to keep it on too long."
"Because you got hurt," Charlotte answered.
"Hurt bad," Kristin added in. "They probably threw away your clothes because they had too much blood on them."
Mom suddenly stood up. "Charlotte, Kristin, I think you two should go show your dad how nice you look in your new clothes. Andrea and I need to talk."
Her sisters looked at one another and mumbled okay before leaving the bedroom.
Mom came and sat down beside her. "Andrea, what do you remember before you woke up as a pony?"
She sat and thought about it. "We were in that weird room, hiding from those ponies. Me and Charlotte were hiding together. Something hit Miss Newman, and Charlotte tried to run to her. Then I chased after her…I pushed her down...I don't remember after that. Why don't I remember?"
Her mom ran a hand through Andrea's mane. "I need you not to get upset."
"Mom! People saying that always means they're going to say something bad!"
"I still need you to try, please. It's very important you don't get upset," Mom said slowly. "Can you be my big girl and not get upset?"
Andrea frowned. "I'm a filly right now, but okay."
Her mom took a deep breath. "Remember how Wild Growth said you were a hero who saved your sister?"
"I remember," Andrea confirmed. "I guess I did. I remember chasing after her."
Mom smiled at her. "You did save her, and I'm very proud of you. You were very brave and very selfless. You saved your baby sister's life. She would have died if not for you."
That made her feel good, but only for a second. "But…they said I got hurt."
Her mom looked away. "You did. The thing you saved Charlotte from hit you instead. It was the same thing that hit Sunset Blessing, you know, Miss Newman…old Charlotte."
"I know who Sunset Blessing is, Mom. I told you, remember? She and Charlotte even smell the same, just like Kristin and Auntie Ami, and you and Dad and those old ponies."
"We smell the same?" Mom asked, turning back and looking confused.
Andrea rubbed her hooves against the floor. "Not the same-same, but still the same. I can tell you're the same people, even if I didn't have someone tell me. I don't know how to explain it. You smell the same. I think that Wild Growth pony could tell who was who before she asked. I think she smelled us, but she was being nice."
"Okay…that's an odd pony thing I wasn't aware of," Mom said in a bewildered tone.
"Mom! What happened!" Andrea yelled.
Her mom bit her lip. "You lost a lot of blood, too much blood, and a lot of stuff inside you was damaged. Putting the necklace on you is like a big bandaid. Then last night, when they used the spell to put you to sleep, they took you to the doctor; the doctor said that you were hurt too bad for the doctor to fix, and we needed to keep the necklace on you."
Andrea blinked. "So I have to stay a pony forever?"
Mom stiffly nodded. "Yes…I'm sorry. I didn't know how to tell you."
"Oh, well, that's okay. I don't mind being a pony," Andrea assured her mom. She wasn't even lying. Being a pony felt fine.
Andrea was pulled onto a hug. "I'm glad you are taking this well. You're such a brave girl."
She didn't think she was being brave; she was just telling the truth. Still, she liked being called brave, so she wasn't going to tell her mom she wasn't.
There was one issue still. "Does that mean I have to keep wearing this stupid necklace? I don't like the necklace; I'm not allowed to do anything because of it."
Her mom hesitated again. "Sunset Blessing says she is going to make a spell, so you don't have to wear it anymore. You'll just be a regular pony."
Andrea got wide eyes and backed up slightly. "Does it have to be her? Can't somepony else do it?"
"She's the only one who knows how, sweetie," Mom said in a whisper.
"But her magic is so big! When she does things, I can feel it. I can feel her right now, practicing with Wild Growth," Andrea whimpered.
Her mom got a worried look. "You can? Right now?"
Andrea pointed a leg towards a spot outside. "She's right over there. I can feel her. I can feel some of the others sometimes, when I'm close to them, and they're doing something. I only feel her when she's doing something with her magic, but I can feel her from far away, and it always feels big."
"Does it hurt?" Mom asked, sounding worried. "What does it feel like?"
She shook her head. "It doesn't hurt. I don't know how to explain it. It's just big. It's like when you're walking by a road, and a big truck goes past, you feel it; only hers is a huge truck that knocks you over without touching you. Or like I'm falling, only instead of falling a little bit I keep falling and falling and going faster and faster, and I don't see where I'm falling I just feel the fall."
"Does it feel like an ocean that goes on forever? That's what Andri said," Mom asked.
"Maybe, I don't know. I don't know how to explain this good," Andrea said, shaking her head. "I just know her magic's big, and it's scary."
Her mom took a deep breath. "She's the only one who can do the spell. You just keep being brave."
"Alright, at least it means I'll get to take this dumb necklace off. I feel it, too, like when one of the other ponies does something, and it is always there. It's annoying."
"Try not to think about it. Just remember that it is making you better, like my cast is helping me get my arm better," Mom looked at her injured armed. "Speaking of which. Do you want to come with me to find Shu-whats-his-name? He was supposed to help me get this cast off."
Andrea giggled. "His name is Shǔguāng, Mom. He says that it means dawn's light in Mandarin Chinese. He made sure I said his name right and that I say Mandarin Chinese and not just Chinese. Mister Líng's name means river spirit, and Mister Mèng's means nice dream. They said their mom— their original mom's name is Yinyu Wu Yan, and they'd tell me what that means when I'm older."
"Wish they had easier names to say," Mom muttered. "Why were they telling you their original mom's name? You weren't asking about that, were you? You shouldn't ask adopted people about their birth parents; their adopted parents are real parents."
"I didn't; they told me without me asking. They said she might visit me and not be scared of her just because she's dead."
Her mom stared at her. "They told you that their dead mom was going to come visit you?"
Andrea shook her head. "They said she might come visit me. She's one of those warden people. They aren't dead-dead when they die. I asked about the Marshmallow thingie, and they told me about their sorta-dead mom. They said the wardens could come in your dreams, and their old mom can see and hear what the Marshmallow thingie sees and hears. They said their mom, the one they have now, has a dead wife that is the same way. They said they don't know if that one will visit. They say she likes to only come when called."
"Are you sure they weren't just playing a joke on you?" her mom asked, sounding suspicious.
Andrea shrugged. "We had an invisible dragon thing that came into our house that we never knew about, we time traveled with a unicorn that is Charlotte as an old lady, and I'm wearing a necklace that turns me into a pony with sparkly fur. Why can't there be dead ponies that come in our dreams?"
Her mom blinked. "When you put it that way, I honestly can't say what's impossible. How about you promise me not to talk to dead ponies until I find out more about them, okay?"
"Okay, if you want," Andrea replied. She didn't see what the big deal was. The other ponies seemed to think the dead ponies were friendly. She didn't know if the Marshmallow thing was dead; the ponies didn't mention that one being dead, but it seemed kinda funny and nice, even if it was weird.
Her mom led her out into the hallway, briefly sticking their heads in the next room to tell everybody where they were going. Charlotte and Kristin we're playing with their new toys. Andrea had new toys too, but she wanted to move around right now, not sit in one spot to play. Maybe it was a pony thing to want to keep moving, but since she'd become one, she didn't want to sit still for too long.
They headed down the staircase, and she felt the feeling again where Miss Newman was doing something. The old unicorn was still outside somewhere, and Andrea wondered how her mom couldn't feel that whenever it happened. It made her shiver. There was too much of whatever it was. The thought of all that stuff touching her made her want to hide.
When they reached the bottom of the stairs, she felt a minor pull, like someone spraying a hose where Miss Newman was a waterfall.
"He's in the rec room. I feel him doing something," Andrea announced when her mom was turning towards the kitchen.
Her mom turned and looked at her. "You can feel him too?"
"Only if we're close, and only if he's doing something with his horn," Andrea answered. "Upstairs is too far away. I can tell it's him. He feels stiff all the time when he does stuff."
"You can already tell him apart from the other unicorns?" Mom asked. "It's only been a day."
Andrea shrugged. "He just feels a certain way. He's stiffer than them. Sorry, I don't know a better word."
Her mom let off a long exhale. "I need this crystal pony stuff explained to me better. Rec room it is. Come on."
They walked into the rec room and found it had just Shǔguāng and the old version of Andrea there. Andri (she remembered to call her that) was lying on a couch with her forehooves over her head. Shǔguāng was in a corner, horn lit, and had a pen and notebook floating in front of him. He looked like he was writing.
Andri looked up as they entered. "Don't mind me. Sunset's boom boom boom is giving me a splitting headache. It feels like the worst hangover I've ever had. I just took some Advil, and I'm hoping that works. Mini-me is lucky; she can't feel it as strongly as I can."
"Is she getting any better?" Mom asked eagerly.
Andri groaned. "You're talking about Sunset, right? Well, she isn't leaving craters anymore when she's told to pick Wild Growth up and set her down gently. That's an improvement."
"Craters...you're exaggerating, right?" Mom asked, now sounding nervous.
Andri shook her head. "Nope! I was out there for that. She was asked to lift Wild Growth with her magic gently, and she practically hurls the pony into the stratosphere. She's told to set her down gently, and she literally puts Wild Growth six feet under. You didn't feel those shakes?"
Andrea gasped. "Is the green pony okay?"
"Wild Growth? Yeah, it's Wild Growth. She takes a beating and keeps on ticking. I bet she's pissed off; I know I'd be if Sunset hurled me to the ground so hard I left a hole— well, no, I'd probably be dead, but she's still out there, letting Sunset do who knows what abuse to her. It seems to be working, so that's good news."
Andrea trembled. They wanted that pony to use magic on her? They were crazy! She'd rather wear the necklace forever.
Her mom bent down and touched her ears, rubbing them. "It'll be alright. She's getting better. In a few days, she'll be ready to do it without hurting you."
Andrea wasn't so sure as she felt another surge from outside. Andri must have felt it too, because she looked off in that direction with a grimace. It seemed weird that her mom, dad, and sisters couldn't feel that. She wasn't sure the other ponies felt it either, just her and Andri.
Shǔguāng looked at them. "Are you ready for me to fix your arm?"
Mom stood back up. "Yeah, if you're still ready."
The unicorn stallion nodded and set his pen and notebook down, lifting his leg with his watch on it. "Jones, can you come in here? I need you to help me with that task I mentioned earlier."
Andrea walked off to sit beside the older version of herself as her mom waited for the unicorn to show up. Andri peaked out from under her legs.
"You're feeling that outside, right?" Andri asked. Immediately after she asked, there was another surge, and they both cringed. Andri frowned after it ended. "Never mind, I saw you flinch too. Being a crystal pony isn't usually this annoying, I promise. It’s only when exceptionally strong magic is being used that it’s so noticeable, and most people can't do stuff like that. Once Sunset gets herself under control, you’ll see, it'll be better. And believe me, it feels worse for me than it does for you. You can feel more as you get older."
"It scares me," Andrea whimpered. "She could hurt me."
Andri sat up and hung her head. "Ya gotta be brave, kid. Doing what needs to be done can be terrifying. Sometimes, you just have to take action without thinking about what can happen. You know how to do that because you've done it already. You saved your baby sister. She would be dead without you. I wish I could say I'd have been just as brave as you at your age, but to be honest, I don't know if I could have done the same thing."
"Sure you would. You're me," Andrea insisted. She then crouched down as another surge of power happened outside.
"Damn, those things hit hard," Andri whispered, shaking her head. "Our lives have diverged, kid, and you have a chance to be an even braver, more courageous version of me. I'm no coward. I've fought my fights, but it took me a lot of growing up to get to the point where I could. You're getting an earlier start on that than me. I'm telling you, as someone who knows what it's like to be you, you can be brave again and face what my sister throws at you. Not to put any pressure on you, but it could be the most important thing you ever do."
"Really? More important than saving Charlotte?" Andrea asked.
"Maybe on par with that," Andri conceded. "But think of it this way. Sunset is Charlotte too, a different Charlotte, but if I'm you, then she's your sister too. My Charlotte likes to talk about how brilliant she is, and she is, but she's also a coward. She's probably more afraid than you are. I need you to do me a favor, do yourself a favor, and save my sister from her cowardice. Tell her it's going to be alright, that you trust her, and that you know she can do this. She needs to hear it, and she needs to hear it from you. Help your old baby sister. You saved her once, save her again."
"I don't understand," Andrea replied.
"I'm not great at explaining things, kid," Andri said in exasperation. "Never have been and never will be. Sunset was great before she got all that power. She knows in her head that she is capable. She doesn't know that in her heart. The world needs Charlotte, it needs Sunset Blessing, but she needs to feel some goddamned confidence in herself and not just pretend she does. She needs to believe she isn't a screwup that hurts more than she helps. Believe in her, and make her believe in herself. Right now, she has all that power, and she's scared she's going to screw up again. She needs her big-little sister to save her. Make it right for you and her. Be a hero by being brave and trusting her."
Andrea tried to smile. "I'll be brave."
Andri rolled off the couch and flinched as another burst of magic happened, then they both flinched as they heard Andrea's mom scream out in pain.
Andrea turned and saw both Shǔguāng and another unicorn releasing their magic. She hadn't felt them in the middle of all those booms outside. Her mom seemed to be okay and was catching her breath. Shǔguāng was saying something to her about getting the cast off her in a second.
"I'm not the world's best pep talker either. I don't do good at explaining things. I feel like I'm talking in circles, but I hope I helped," Andri said as she walked by. "I'm going to go rest. I'm old and tired, and Sunset is giving me a headache."
Andrea watched the old version of her walk out of the room. She could be brave. She wouldn't let herself down.
Charles was watching Charlotte and Kristin play. It was soothing, watching them doing something so ordinary and carefree after all the things they had been through over the last week. He wanted to savor this time.
"Hello! Your friendly neighborhood Marshmallow has news!"
It was not to be.
The amorphous white blob with the face appeared in the room, startling the girls and making them scream.
"Hey! I said friendly! Don't run and scream!" the Marshmallow said as it looked at the girls.
He held out his hands to his daughters. "It's okay! It's not going to hurt you. Marshmallow, I know you can change shape. Can you change into something less frightening?"
The face contorted. "What's less frightening than my smiling face? Let me see…Charlotte there is Sunset Blessing, which means she's a cat person. One adorable feline coming up!"
The blob shifted and came down on the floor and now appeared to be a cartoonish, white stuffed cat wearing a spotted dress and a big red bow, no bigger than the girls' stuffed animals.
"Tadda!" the Marshmallow exclaimed, smiling and spreading its arms wide.
"What is it?" Kristin asked, still not moving away from the wall.
The Marshmallow grinned and pointed at itself. "I'm the Marshmallow. I'm most people's friend, almost everyone; there are some meanies that I'm no friend to. I don't want to hurt anybody. I can't touch anything anyway. I'm not all here. I've got news about the baddie-bad guys that harassed you."
"What news?" Charles asked, approaching the creature to prove to the girls it wasn't dangerous.
The Marshmallow turned to face him. "Good news and bad news. We have reached a plea bargain with them! They have agreed they will never come and try to hurt you or your daughters again, well, aside from old Charlotte, Sunset Blessing. We couldn't get them to agree to that, but we got them to agree that family is off limits! I mean, that's just dirty!"
"So the good news is we're safe; the bad news is Sunset Blessing, isn't?" Charles asked.
The Marshmallow shook her kitty-cat head. "Well, part of the bad news and part of the good news. The other bad news is that we didn't get them to agree not to say anything about time travel. The government people will try to label them as crazy if they talk about that. The other part of the good news is they agreed not to rat you out as having come from the past or being related to old SB."
"And how do we know they'll keep their word?" Charles asked, skeptical of the whole thing.
"Nobody breaks a promise to the Dreamwardens, silly," the Marshmallow giggled. "At least, not one of our special promises. We're going to make SB special promise never to do any time traveling again or do anything that could aid someone else in time traveling. She was expecting that, so she isn't upset."
Charles sighed. Special promises? He didn't want to even ask, and he wasn't going to. "They're probably going to jail anyway. So we don't need to worry."
"Oh, they aren't going to jail," the Marshmallow said quickly.
"They aren't? Why?!" Charles demanded.
The Marshmallow shrugged. "It was a bargain. There's give and take in bargains. We're going to send them on their merry way with a small cash compensation for being unlawfully detained, and they aren't going to press charges for that."
"What about them breaking and entering, or for their assault!" Charles fumed.
"We don't charge for that, and they make the special promise," the Marshmallow answered.
"What about time traveling to our time and attacking us!" Charles yelled.
"Never happened on the record. If we acknowledge it happened, then we have to acknowledge time travel is real, then everybody has big problems. I'm here to suppress problems and try to make sure you're safe," the Marshmallow answered.
"What about Andrea! Where's the justice for her?!" Charles bellowed.
The Marshmallow flinched and looked down. "I feel very sorry for saying this because it isn't fair, but there won't be any. You have to understand; I can fight for you to get justice, or I can fight to keep you safe. These ponies want to hurt Sunset Blessing and everything connected to her, including you and your family. I have a bargain in place that will keep you safe, but it came at a cost. I'm sorry, but I can't force them to agree to anything, and you had to give up something for me to negotiate. You're giving up that justice you want."
"You couldn't negotiate a better deal?" Charles asked, gripping his hands into fists.
"They wanted their freedom; that was what they were drawing the line at. I got the best deal I could get," the Marshmallow answered. "If I didn't give them what they wanted, they would not agree to keep their mouths shut about you and not agree to leave you alone. Do you want me to see them punished only to open the floodgates of bad guys coming to your door to do more? You can be angry more wasn't done, and I sympathize and know it doesn't feel fair, but I'm not here to get you vengeance. What's not fair is having more bad guys show up and hurt you. Getting justice for what was done to you and your family isn't worth the price if it means your family has to live in fear to get it."
"But—"
"Hold that thought!" the Marshmallow exclaimed. "Hey kids, look! A dancing monkey!"
The Marshmallow shifted forms and now was a monkey doing the samba.
"This is for your ears only," the Marshmallow's voice whispered in his ear. "I don't like having to be mean, but sometimes I have to spell out hard truths, and there's no nice way to do it. Look at those girls. Do you know what you get for your justice? The chance for them to end up dead. I know the situation Andrea is in, but that is out of our control now. I hope she lives, but whether she lives or dies is not impacted by any deal I could make. I'm ensuring those girls don't wind up with the same fate. I can withdraw the deal with those ponies in the basement still, but your daughters have to live with the consequences. I'm giving you the choice. What will you have me do?"
He closed his eyes and whispered, "This is cruel."
"I know, and I'm sorry. I don't like doing this," the Marshmallow whispered back, sounding legitimately sorry. "What is your choice?"
He swallowed. "Do the damn deal."
The monkey stopped dancing and took a bow to the girls. "That's all the show we have got today. This Marshmallow is needed elsewhere. Have fun, girls!"
The monkey vanished, and nothing took its place.
Kristin continued to stare at where the Marshmallow had been. "Dad, what was that thing?"
He shook his head. "I still don't know. Let's get out of this room for a bit. I want to see how things are progressing with Miss Newman's magic." He wanted assurance that she would be able to save Andrea.
Sunset Blessing sat panting, looking across at Wild Growth, who stood as unfazed as ever. It wasn't exhaustion from over-exerting that was tiring her out, but the effort of trying to hold back her power.
"I need a break," Sunset announced.
Wild nodded and walked over to her. "Not bad for the first day. You made good progress. It took me years to get my power under control… back when I could use it."
"I don't have years, and neither does Andrea," Sunset muttered.
"Andrea doesn't; you do. You know this is probably going to slow your aging," Wild replied as she sat down beside her.
"Great, I get to be an old mare for even longer. Such fun," Sunset said with a grimace.
"Should have you living well past a hundred and twenty," Wild said in turn. "I did reach out to Twilight to see if she can come to this, just as a precaution if you fail to get it together."
Sunset looked up in shock. "You risked discussing this through official channels?"
"I know some other methods of reaching out. They could get me in trouble, but…." Wild Growth shrugged.
"Is she or Starlight coming?" Sunset asked, daring to hope.
"Don't know yet. I will tomorrow," Wild Growth answered. "It would have to be Twilight. Starlight has the power, but she lacks the finest, at least to do it correctly in the tiny time-frame we're looking at."
"And I will?" Sunset asked.
"I've never seen a pony who can weave magic as quickly and with as much precision as you, not even Twilight. You've done things that should have been impossible due to the precision and speed they'd have to be done, but you somehow do it. Twilight still knows more than you and is more powerful, but if you can get your power usage under control, you're the ideal person to do this. You still know more about transformation magic than her too. Twilight is the second-best choice."
"Only if I get this under control," Sunset reminded her.
Wild nodded. "Yeah, that's the rub."
"I'd still feel safer no matter what with her doing it. I don't know if I can pull off that precision anymore, not with this power," Sunset said mournfully. "I'm dangerous to myself and others in this state. Triss really screwed me over. Boon my ass!"
"At least you don't have to worry about fanatics beating the crap out of you with magic anymore," Wild reminded her. "We wouldn't even be having the possible option of you saving Andrea either. We don't know if Twilight will be able to come."
"Thirty seconds, that's all I have once it starts," Sunset said, licking her lips. "Thirty seconds until Andrea dies, maybe not even that."
"Which is why Starlight isn't an option. She couldn't do it in that timeframe. Twilight will be a stretch, but I think she can."
"If she can come, she's doing it," Sunset said firmly.
"But until then, even if we get a yes from the reply, we prepare as if you are the only option. I was hesitant to tell you that I reached out because I worried you might take it as a sign you can wait on her to sweep in and save the day. We can't afford for you to think that way. Things happen, ponies get delayed, and Twilight might not make it in time. We don't even know if she can come to begin with. There's a lot of red tape she has to cut through, and she can't afford to cause a diplomatic incident."
Sunset raised an eyebrow at Wild. "You're risking a diplomatic incident reaching out to her."
"I'm a senator, and yeah, that would be bad, but she's a princess of Equestria, and that could be worse. You know politics, Sunset. You used to play them in your sleep."
"And see what came of it?" Sunset asked. "I don't know what I'm even arguing. You're right. I do want her to sweep in and save the day, but I know how dangerous that line of thinking is."
A fluffy blob landed in front of them and turned into an equally chubby pegasus mare. "I have news about my negotiations with the prisoners. Please don't yell at me when I tell you the details! I've already been yelled at enough today!"
Sunset sighed. "Sum it up. Is my human family going to be safe? That's all I need to know or care about. You can leave the other details with Amicus to go over."
The pegasus nodded. "Yeah, they are. The prisoners are going to walk free, and you are going to pay them a financial reparation, but they won't ever touch anyone connected to you again or say who those people are or where they came from."
"Sunset is paying a reparation?! Is this the best deal you could work out?" Wild harshly demanded.
"I asked you not to yell at me!" the pegasus whined.
Sunset shook her head. "I don't care about the money. You got me what I wanted. Thank you, Rebecca."
Rebecca, being the mature, powerful being that she was, stuck her tongue out at Wild. "That's all for me. I'll let the lawyers wrap things up. And… good luck with the kid."
"See ya around, Marshmallow," Wild said with a dismissive wave.
The pegasus simply disappeared as if she was never there. Which, technically, she hadn't been.
Wild stood up. "Time to get back to work."
Sunset stood as well. Time was ticking, and she still felt so far from her goal.
.Another day had passed, another night where Andrea had been taken to a private room for a minute by a pony and returned a minute layer with that pony's fur now bloodstained and with Andrea asleep. Each instance ripped out a little more of Wendy's ability to cope.
She and Charles put the girls to bed, and Charles took Andrea to their room to sleep with them. Wendy made some excuses and said she'd be in bed soon.
Most of the ponies turned in even earlier than they did. The exception to this was Mèng and those other webbed-winged ponies. When darkness fell, the guard ponies shifted from a collection of the other types exclusively to nocturnal bat ponies. Bat ponies weren't the proper term, but that's what she thought when she saw them, and she couldn't help thinking of the fact that this had all begun with a pony of that type staring into Charlotte's window. They made her nervous, monsters in the dark.
There were still plenty of human guards as she moved through the house. For the most part, they didn't seem to care where she went, although they and the bat ponies always watched her closely. There were a few off-limits places, the guard room, the basement, a few of the bedrooms, but the larger rooms, like the kitchen, dining, and rec, were all places she could enter freely. None of those places was her destination.
She walked over to the tarp covering the hole at the front of the house and looked at the human guard standing beside it. "Can I go through here?"
He nodded. "As long as you are careful and don't pull everything down. Also, don't try to leave the property; the orders are that you need to stay on this side of the gate until they get your paperwork done."
She frowned. "That could take a month, they said."
He shrugged. "I'm only relaying the orders. The guards at the gate will stop you if you try to go out. If you got a problem, take it up with Miss Blessing or Miss Portsmith."
Wendy wanted to point out that she was Miss Portsmith as well but wasn't worth the semantics or behaving childishly. She just nodded and squeezed through the wall, doing her best not to disturb the tarp.
She did a startled jump when she got outside. It turned out not all the non-bat ponies were asleep. Wild Growth was still up and was sitting out by the fountain in front of the house, smoking a pipe. This was the first she'd seen a pony smoking, and it made her feel a little less guilty about her reason for coming out here.
Trying not to make too much noise and pulling her cigarettes out as she walked, she approached the green earth pony. Wild Growth let out a long plume of smoke and glanced at her as she got near. The smell of the pipe smoke was very pungent and sweet.
"Not able to sleep?" Wild Growth asked.
Wendy lit a cigarette and took her first drag in days before answering. "I needed a few minutes to unwind."
The earth pony nodded and took another puff of her pipe before saying, "I'm waiting for Phobia to arrive. She is supposed to be coming in tonight. Jess, the person driving her over from the airport, said they were already in their way."
Wendy frowned and looked at the gate in the distance. "They're arriving very late."
Wild Growth shrugged. "She's nocturnal, and arranging a secured flight to Denver took time. She can't just hop aboard the first available flight. There's too much security that has to be arranged when she travels."
Wendy took another drag and sighed as she released. "There is so much security involved in everything here. I feel just as much a prisoner as if the military had arrested us back home."
"It will get better once we get your identities established and educate you enough you don't make fools of yourselves," Wild Growth assured her. "I'd offer to have someone take you into town sightseeing, but I know you want to stay near Andrea, and Andrea needs to stay here until the procedure is done. It is too risky to have her out there where it could get knocked off, and even if that wasn't a risk, it is best people didn't see that necklace. It's something that isn't supposed to exist, and many people would be willing to kill to obtain it. Sunset normally keeps it hidden under a shirt; Andrea doesn't have that option."
"You are wearing clothes," Wendy pointed out. "Surely Andrea can wear something."
Wild Growth absently brushed at her jacket. "I'm a senator; I have to look the part. We could find something for Andrea, but it would draw attention to her. Ponies wearing clothes outside special occasions and uniforms for work is like waving a flag that says look at me, I'm rich and important. You want to keep a low profile, and you can't do it that way. We don't have time anyway. Besides uniforms and accessories, most pony clothes are custom-tailored, preferring a personal touch, not mass-produced. We'd never get it done before the spell needs to be cast."
"Is she getting better with her magic?" Wendy asked, hopeful.
"Yes, I only had to put up with an hour of being pounded into the ground so hard I got buried," Wild grumbled.
Wendy looked the pony over. "You seem okay. I don't see any scratches or bruises."
"That kind of thing wouldn't hurt me. It takes heavy military hardware to leave a scratch on me," Wild replied. "Now, if she teleported me out into the middle of the ocean, then I'd be dead. I drown like everyone else. I also sink like a stone, no matter how I struggle to swim. The swimming pool presents more lethal danger than Sunset does."
There was a sound in the distance, and after squinting, Wendy could see the gate was opening.
Wild Growth doused her pipe. "Wrap up that smoke. Tempest Shadow can get surly about anything endangering Phobia's health, including secondhand smoke."
Wendy put out her cigarette but gave the earth pony a skeptical look. "You're kidding, right?"
Wild Growth shook her head. "Phobia herself is easy enough to deal with, but her bodyguards can be a pain in the flank at times. They get exceedingly overprotective. It's best not to give Tempest any excuses to get testy."
Great, a grumpy pony. Wendy put the butt in her pocket as she watched a car approach. She blinked as she noticed the make and model of the vehicle. It was something straight out of the 1950s, a red corvette. That car would have to be close to ninth years old at this point, but it seemed good as new. Maybe people from this time enjoyed retro things. She doubted many people around who were even alive during the fifties. She had been born then but had been too young to remember that decade.
The car came to a park, and the engine and headlights were cut off. The doors opened, and two women stepped out; both had odd-colored hair. The driver was tall and had bright blue hair pulled back in a ponytail; the other woman had a dark pink mohawk. The mohawked woman was wearing what looked like light black leather biker clothing; the driver looked to be wearing a business jacket and shirt— minus the shoulder pads that would have been common on such jackets back home, but with shorts and yellow leggings. Wait...did the driver have a tail?
The mohawked woman started scanning the area with her eyes as if she expected someone to jump out and attack at any moment. The driver seemed utterly unconcerned and approached them. As the driver neared, Wendy saw that she had pony ears in the same yellow as the leggings. A second look at the woman's legs made her wonder if those were leggings or fur.
"Thanks for picking them up, Jess," Wild said as the driver approached.
"Is Sunset awake?" the driver, Jess, asked with a half-growl. "I want to throttle her. Never in my dreams did I imagine she was serious about time travel. I gave her those math equations to prove a point, not for her to accurately show up at the right time-space coordinates!"
"You should know better than ever to let Sunset goad you into giving her information," Wild scolded. "Sunset always finds uses for the information. It's what she does. She's asleep right now."
Jess scowled as she looked at the house. "I'll spend the night and deal with her in the morning. What happened to the door?"
"Sunset's magic suddenly got much stronger by several orders of magnitude, and she's going through some growing pains as she adjusts," Wild replied.
Jess sighed. "It's always something insane with Auntie. It's late; I'm going to bed." The woman then walked by them and pushed past the tarp. She never even introduced herself or asked who Wendy was.
"That was Sunset's niece by way of marriage, Doctor Jessica Middleton. She's a very gifted scientist," Wild explained after the woman left. "She also has great hearing. If she's in the general vicinity, assume she can hear you, even if you're whispering as low as you can. She can probably hear our heartbeats, breathing, and even digestive systems right now, and she isn't even standing next to us anymore. I think she said thirty meters around her is her range that she can hear even very minute sounds, but I could be mistaken. Just assume that anything you say isn't private."
Something had been mentioned before about a niece with human magic that involved sound. "Why does she have fur, tail, and pony ears?"
"The rehumanization process that was used on her was used much later than it normally would be, and it was a new form that didn't have all the bugs worked out," Wild explained.
Wendy pursed her lips. "Can the same process be used in Andrea after she is wholly turned into a pony?"
Wild blinked. "I don't see why not, but it's completely up to Andrea. You can't force her or pressure her. That's one of the things that the spell depends on. It requires the person to want it. I sometimes half-suspect that's part of why Jess's went the way it did. I'm not entirely sure Jess wanted to be human, not deep down. I think it was something she felt she had to do, not something she wanted to do. Tempest over there had the same spell used on her, and she had never been human before that. The only side effect was the pink hair. Tempest was more committed to it."
"I hear my name being discussed."
Both of them looked up to see that the mohawked woman had approached, with Phobia a short distance behind. Phobia's mane no longer looked like she had just gotten out of bed. Instead, it now was perfectly styled, and Wendy could tell that the pony was wearing mascara and lipstick, along with a short dark green dress. It seemed unlikely that webbed-winged the pony could fly with a dress like that on.
"Just discussing humanization and the differences between you and Jess," Wild explained calmly. "This is Wendy Portsmith, the much younger version of Dry Soil. Wendy, meet Tempest Shadow, Phobia's guard dog."
Tempest frowned. "That term is mildly insulting, but I am her closest bodyguard, and I can bite when angry. Where is Sunset Blessing or Andrea Portsmith? Shouldn't they be here to greet the Dreamwarden on her arrival? Their absence is very disrespectful."
"Both of them needed to sleep. I didn't even tell Sunset that Phobia would be arriving. She has enough on her mind right now," Wild answered.
"Sunset Blessing still should be made to take the proper time to show respect; the same goes for Miss Portsmith," Tempest practically snarled.
"Tempest," Phobia spoke up, yet somehow sounded both quiet and firm. "I know you and my mother don't always get along, but let me remind you that my mother's place is to be my mother; nothing more, nothing less. Andrea is family as well, and she's going through a lot. Do you ask the same of my grandfoals, my foals, my wife, or my sisters? Don't hold family members that live further away to a different standard than those you see more often." Phobia looked at the two of them. "Sorry, Tempest is grumpy after the long flight. She is also angry that my arrival was somehow leaked to the press, and their reporters were not at all intimidated at the prospect of asking me questions. It made me nervous, which put Tempest on edge."
Tempest crossed her arms. "And the local authorities did not provide adequate protection to keep those reporters at bay. They got far too close to the Dreamwarden. It was unacceptable. Phobia does not do well with strange people crowding her."
Wild held up a hoof to the mohawked human. "I'm grumpy after a day of being hurled repeatedly against the ground, and I'm not a fan of getting hounded by reporters either, so I can empathize. Sorry about the guard dog comment. It was out of line."
Tempest balled her hand into a fist and bumped it against Wild's hoof. "Forgiven."
Phobia focused her attention on Wendy. "Hello, I had thought you would be in bed when I arrived. I hadn't planned on greeting you so soon. Since we are meeting in person, let me formally introduce myself. I am Phobia Remedy, Warden of Fear, and I was originally going to be your granddaughter before recent events. I apologize, but I don't tend to hug, aside from my foals and wife. Physical contact raises my anxiety. The irony is that I help people deal with their fears and anxieties, but I am often very much at the mercy of my own. I know you and your husband are currently under a great deal of stress, and I wish to help you in the coming days, although I know it will be impossible to put you at ease. I hope I can at least help you cope. I also must apologize for the failure of Doctor Patel and his team. The damage was worse than expected, and I ended up giving you assurances that fell short."
"You could have summed that up with a lot fewer words," Wild said with a snort.
"Phobia likes to be thorough," Tempest reminded her.
Phobia nodded. "I don't need to find a bedroom. I seem to recall there is a perfectly serviceable rec room that I can take up residence in until morning, and it is close enough to the guard quarters to help put Tempest more at ease. I would recommend the rest of you get to sleep. Being overtired only worsens the problems of fear and anxiety."
"I have a quick question," Wendy interjected. "If Andrea's procedure goes well, what do we need to do to make her human again?"
Phobia blinked. "If my mother can do the spell to make her a pony, she can also do the spell to rehumanize her. However, that requires Andrea's consent and desire. If you wish, I can discuss the matter with Andrea after everything is done. My goal would not be to pressure her one way or another but to make sure she fully considers both staying a pony and returning to being human. Both have their pros and cons, and she should choose what she wants most for her. However, if she chooses to rehumanize, that is it. Repeated transformations that are each meant to be permanent can cause debilitating health problems and terminal deterioration of her living tissues."
"Great," Wendy muttered.
"I will also be speaking to each of your family members," Phobia continued. "I consulted our Triss about what the other her may have done, and I have concerns."
Phobia shook her head. "My most immediate concern is making sure Andrea is well, and once that is resolved it will be seeing to it that my mother is also well and under control. After that… I will see. I am curious to see the extent of what tampering was done by her, and whether Triss had a backup plan of her own. We are unlikely to find out for sure for years yet, so my questioning and observation may be for not. It may require long-term monitoring. Triss doesn't give boons on a whim. I want to know what she has done."
"Backup plan for what?" Wendy demanded.
Phobia walked past her. "A concern for another day. Get some sleep."
Tempest stepped between Wendy and the cryptic pony. "The Dreamwarden has said her peace for now. She will discuss more when she feels like it. I advise you to follow her instructions. Harass her, and I will not hesitate to faceplant you in the dirt."
"She could have just said nothing and avoided all this," Wild mused.
Wendy turned towards the green earth pony. "Do you know what she is talking about?"
"No," Wild said with a shake of her head. "I've had Triss try to talk me into things before, and I've always refused. That dragon has her own goals, and she doesn't care how much chaos she might cause advancing them. She isn't evil, but she is an ancient alien with very alien reasoning. If she has done something to you, I'd be wary about whatever it was, and I'm sure Phobia feels the same way. She increased Sunset's magic; that's already a headache in itself. Phobia should have just kept her mouth shut instead of giving us something else to worry about, but she is right; whatever it is, it isn't as important as saving your daughter. Focus on that and put the rest out of your mind."
"Easy for you to say!" Wendy yelled. "I listened to that stupid cartoon for hours, and it didn't prepare me for any of this. It didn't mention any all-powerful ancient dragon, or wardens, or whatever-the-hell is up with you."
Wild raised an eyebrow at her. "If you're talking about the cartoon they show kids to teach them friendship lessons and about recent history in Equestria, I wouldn't expect you to know about all those things. Earth has its own...cosmology. The average pony from Equestria would be just as lost trying to figure this all out if they weren't educated about it. You'll learn, in time. Right now, just get some sleep."
Unable to argue anymore and tears leaking from her eyes, Wendy stormed back into the house.
Another day, another night, another day. Time ticked away, Andrea's life ticked away, and she didn't even know, nor did her sisters. No one wanted her to be afraid. She would live, or she would die. Knowing wouldn't change that, only make her fearful. It had seemed best to let her have her happiness. Now, it was almost time. In a few hours, Andrea's fate would be decided. The girls had all been laid down to bed, and one of them might never wake.
Wendy, Charles, and other adults were all in the rec room, with one exception, Sunset Blessing. The unicorn was down in her workshop, doing her final preparations. The question had been asked, and no answer was given. Was she ready?
"Why is it always kids?" Jess asked as she poured another glass of brandy. "Every single time something goes seriously wrong with Sunset Blessing, some foal or child is the one who ends up on the verge of death. First, it was me, then Drizzle, now little Andrea."
"On the plus side, so far none of them have died," Mèng said in an encouraging tone.
Jess chugged her drink down in one gulp then wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "The sample size is far too low to use that to predict probability."
"Should you be drinking?" Wild asked. "I was told you don't have the highest tolerance."
The pony-eared woman poured another drink. "I'm not going anywhere, and this is bringing back bad memories that I would prefer to forget."
"That doesn't work. Give me the drink, Jess," Wild ordered, holding out a leg.
The woman grumbled but walked over and handed Wild the glass. The green earth pony took it in her fetlock as easily as a person would their hand, promptly drained the drink herself, and set it down on the table before turning to face Mèng.
"Anyway, you forgot one. Sunset does not have a perfect record with foals surviving," Wild said darkly.
Mèng blinked in confusion, and Wendy balled up a first. "What do you mean? Who died, and what happened?"
"Wild's unborn foal," Phobia interjected. "Wild had a miscarriage during the Cataclysm of Riverview, and the Cataclysm of Riverview could at least partially be blamed on my mother. There's an adult death toll that you are all overlooking, dozens of adults, but also many foals and adults she has saved or at least didn't die during her more spectacular chaos. Jess and Wild should know; they helped save some of them. I am eternally grateful for that. However, it is best to say that my mother is a force that people get caught up in. We have borrowed a term from an old fantasy series of books for her and those like her because the Equestrians didn't have a word for it, nor did we. The term is ta'veren. It's a person who is always involved in big events and changes in the natural flow of order, a magnet for change. She is not the only such one, not even the most dramatic in her impact, and some who have literal chaos magic, while my mother is only figurative chaos while still a creature of order— we try to keep them far apart so that we don't compound the impact. Change and big events can be messy, and people can die."
"Someone who you see and you expect trouble not long after," Andri grumbled. "That describes my sister well."
"You should speak kinder about Auntie," Shǔguāng snarled
"I'm not saying your mom is a bad person; I'm saying she's trouble," Andri countered in a tired voice. "Trouble that we get caught up in; trouble that little me could die from."
There was suddenly a commotion outside the door, and they could hear guards running and yelling.
Andri stood up and headed for the door. "Oh, look, sounds like more trouble. What a shock."
Wild stood up and joined her. "Actually, it might be salvation. I'm expecting someone."
Before they could get to the door, one of the guards came in. "Miss Portsmith, Princess Luna and an unknown pink unicorn just arrived. They are looking for Sunset Blessing. What are your instructions?"
"Not who I was expecting," Wild quickly said.
Andri frowned. "Show them into here. Princess Luna is a friend to my sister, but I don't want her disturbed quite yet, not when her preparations are this important."
Amicus sat up for the first time and nervously wiped her fur. "Do I look alright? I wasn't expecting to be seeing royalty."
Legal Brief put his leg on her leg to pause her, then gave her a quick smooch before pulling back and smiling sweetly at her. "Don't fret. You look lovely, dear."
Amicus nuzzled him back. "You'd say that no matter what. Your bias makes your testimony suspect."
"I think I'm just a good character witness," Legal Brief replied before kissing her more deeply.
"Go find a courtroom!" Mèng said, fake retching.
A tall midnight blue pony with a mane that seemed to blow in a wind that wasn't there and a regular-sized unicorn mare entered the room and looked around.
"Where is my student?" the larger pony demanded.
Andri somehow managed to bow while still pointing a leg down towards the basement. "Princess Luna, Sunset's in her workshop, trying to make final preparations for casting this spell."
Princess Luna frowned. "And does she have sufficient control of her power to do the spell properly without hurting the foal?"
Andri looked away. "I'm not sure."
"Me either," Wild confessed.
The princess gave a knowing nod. "Fear not! While Twilight is unable to aid you due to an important diplomatic summit directly, she has sent her student in her stead. This is Luster Dawn. Twilight has nothing but faith in her capabilities."
The pink unicorn rubbed the back of her head and chuckled nervously. "I haven't actually done this spell before, but I know it and have the power to cast it. I know it by heart, though, and I can work fast."
"Sunset hasn't actually cast the spell either," Andri replied. "If you can do it without killing little me in the process, that works."
Wendy stood up. "Who are you, and what are your qualifications? Why can't we get someone who has cast this spell before? This is my daughter's life we are talking about. I don't feel safe putting it in the hands of an amateur."
Luster Dawn lifted her head and looked offended. "I'm the personal student of the Princess of Friendship and Magic. Aside from the princess, Starlight Glimmer, and Sunburst, there is no mage in Equestria as skilled and knowledgeable as me. Very few ponies have ever cast this spell, and the ones that have normally worked in teams over a long period. Starlight can't work fast enough to get this done in the time you need. Sunburst's magic is so weak that he would never be able to cast this spell, and the princess is unavailable. Trust me; I can do this. Furthermore, I have hooves, not hands, and will be using my horn anyway."
Luna nodded again. "It shames me to admit that this branch of magic is one that my sister and I are incapable of helping with. While we are both highly gifted in many fields of magic: our knowledge of transformation magic and transmogrification is often exceeded by the more gifted students at my sister's school. We trust in Twilight's judgment in this matter. If Twilight says that Luster Dawn can do this, then I support Luster Dawn. Although I wish my student were the one up for the task, I would not risk a foal's life for the sake of my pride in having my student do the task."
Wendy suddenly fell to the ground. What the hell was happening? The walls groaned and seemed ready to buckle. The television fell, and she could barely hear it shatter. Lights flickered and went out. Ponies cried out in alarm. Chunks of plaster fell from the ceiling.
Then it all stopped.
Luna and Shǔguāng both lit their horns as the shaking ended, but it seemed unneeded because Andri was glowing brightly, illuminating the entire room.
"What just—" Charles started to ask, but Andri was already running for the door.
"Check on your children!" Andri ordered. "What the fuck has Sunset down now!"
Wendy didn't need any more prompting; she was already running for the door as well. Luna and Shǔguāng simply vanished, and there wasn't time to see what everyone else was doing. Charles was right beside Wendy as she ran. The room was left in darkness as Andri exited.
Guards were already out in the foyer, running with flashlights towards the basement. All the lights were out, and Andri was already going through the doorway to the basement. This made it difficult for Wendy to find her way to the stairs. She groped around in the dark until Charles pulled her and put her hand on the banister.
They moved quickly as they could up the stairs, and when they reached the second floor, they could hear all three of the girls up and crying. It was still a struggle to make it to them; there was even less light here than down below. Why was the power out? Was this some sort of attack? Had Sunset lost control of a spell? All that mattered was her girls' safety.
They eventually found the door for their room and the one for Charlotte and Kristin's room. Wendy went into her room to find Andrea, and Charles went to care for the other two. As soon as she opened the door, she found Andrea huddled in a corner, glowing brightly and whimpering. Why was she glowing? What was wrong now?
"Andrea! Andrea! Are you okay? Talk to me!" she yelled as she hurried over to her ponified daughter.
Andrea looked up at her as Wendy reached for her. "Mom? What happened? There was a big burst of magic. Like a lot of magic! I felt it. I still feel it."
Wendy pulled her daughter tightly to her, unconcerned that her daughter's glow might somehow burn, which, luckily, it didn't. "I don't know. Are you hurt? How do you feel? Tell me where it hurts."
"I don't hurt. I just feel weird and kinda sick. Like I ate too much, and now I'm throwing up, but not that kind of throwing up," Andrea whimpered.
"Is she okay? Why is she glowing?" Charles asked from the doorway
"I don't know!" Wendy cried.
"I feel sick," Andrea whined. "I ate too much. I'm too full."
Charles hurried over and sat down beside them. "Do you think it's a crystal pony thing? Andri was glowing like this too."
That was only moderately reassuring when she didn't have a clue what it meant. "Maybe. We need to find her and ask her. How are Charlotte and Kristin?"
"Shaken up and scared, but safe," Charles assured her. "Charlotte pee'd herself and was crying about being sorry she put a hole in the wall. Kristin is gripping her stuffed animal so tightly the seams are coming undone. They stopped crying when they saw me. I told them to sit put."
Wendy shook her head. "We need to take them downstairs and get them outside. If another quake like that happens, it could bring the whole house down."
He looked her in the eyes. "We need to find that Luster Dawn pony. Andrea doesn't have other options if something is wrong with Sunset Blessing, and her time is running out."
"My time for what?" Andrea asked in a scared whimper.
Wendy did not want to explain this. "Time to make you a pony for good, so you don't have to wear that thing anymore. You want it to come off, right?"
"Yeah," Andrea sniffled.
Wendy turned to her husband. "Get the other two. Andrea can help lead us back downstairs since she's glowing. Hurry."
No matter what was happening with Sunset Blessing, Andrea still needed to be saved tonight.
The lights came back on when they arrived back at the bottom of the stairs. Andri also was exiting the basement door at the same time.
Wendy hurried to the crystal pony. "Is Sunset alri—"
Andri cut her off by puking all over the floor. She sat for a few seconds, taking long gasps before she dried her mouth on the back of a leg and shook her head.
"You don't want to go down there. Sunset is alive and unhurt, aside from some bruises and pissing all over herself," Andri answered at last.
"What happened?" Charles asked.
Andri looked like she was going to get sick again and sat down. She breathed heavily for a few seconds, but no vomit came. "The intruders decided to make one final try. They never agreed to leave her alone, only the rest of us. Nobody gave them the memo that Sunset was operating in god mode right now."
Wendy balled her fists in a fury. "You aren't going to let them off with a slap in the wrist again, are you? This needs to end!"
Andri stared blankly at her for a few seconds before answering. "You don't understand. They're all dead, every one of them. The unicorn she didn't even leave anything to bury. Her countering his blast is what rocked the house. We felt the feedback from that. The other ones… oh God, I can't even imagine what their last seconds felt like. Their corpses… you don't want to see it. It's too terrible. Nobody should have to die like that."
"What… what did she do?" a voice asked from the other end of the room. They all turned to see Luster Dawn with the rest of the family behind her.
Andri gulped a few times like she was swallowing vomit. "Their blood… she boiled it, every last drop. She boiled them from the inside out in their own blood, and somehow, she didn't let it evaporate. It just kept boiling, getting hotter and hotter, beyond the point there should have been any liquid left. It's still boiling, even now."
Amicus retreated from the room, and the sound of more retching could be heard in the background. Legal Brief followed after her to care for her. The elderly pony versions of Wendy and Charles just looked horrified, and Sinker had to pull them away. Mèng, Líng, Wild, and Jess all just looked grim.
"She always threatened to do that to ponies she really wanted dead," Wild said slowly. "She finally carried out her threat."
"Guess you're getting your justice," Mèng said solemnly.
Andri stood back up. "The workshop is blistering hot. It burns your hooves just stepping on the metal in there. Some of the stuff fell down and will need to be repaired, but I don't think there was any major structural damage to the house. I won't know until we do a full inspection."
"Is old lady pony me going to be okay?" Charlotte asked worriedly, sounding ready to cry.
"Luna and Shǔguāng are dealing with Sunset. She's crying, having a little emotional breakdown," Andri answered, seeming even more tired somehow. "This is only the second time she has directly killed someone, and unlike last time, she didn't knock herself out doing it. It's hitting her hard, even though she can claim self-defense. That's good, you know? Killing should hurt. She shouldn't feel okay after killing someone. Nobody should."
"The princess told me the closest thing Sunset Blessing had to a personal element was kindness, even though she could say cruel things and rage. Deep down in her heart, she's a kind soul. Kind ponies take death the hardest," Luster Dawn said as she stepped further into the room, looking at Charlotte. "If you are her, then that should speak well for you. That means you're probably a kind person too."
"I put a hole in the wall when I was scared. I'm sorry," Charlotte cried.
Luster Dawn looked at the tarp-covered entrance to the house. "Well, it seems you and your older self are similar in more than one way." She looked at the others. "She is talking about some other hole in the wall and not this one, right? This hole is from the original Sunset Blessing, correct?"
"Yeah, Charlotte can't do something like that," Charles answered. "Can someone tell us why Andrea— both Andreas, are glowing and translucent?"
"That magic feedback that rocked the house," Andri answered. "When it hit us, we absorbed as much as we could. It is like a defensive reflex, even if it was unneeded. There was so much that alone made me feel sick. We're still filtering off what we absorbed as simple light magic, which causes us to glow. It's normal crystal pony stuff. Our entire body is one big magic filter. Big scary magic goes in, and nice calm light comes out. The glow will fade in a few hours, don't worry."
"Crystal ponies aren't just that," Luster spoke up. "They can also act as magical conduits and refractors, although most mages don't take advantage of this. That's a good thing. Andrea is essentially a living, breathing artifact. It means it will help me with the casting of this spell."
Andri's eyes went wide, and she suddenly bolted towards Andrea. "The necklace! Is it okay? That scare had to cause a surge. I was pretty sure I felt multiple smaller surges after Sunset's."
"Relax, it's fine," Luster assured them. "She might have surged, but there was so much magic from Sunset's feedback there wasn't any room for her to absorb anything else."
"I broke the bed," Kristin said sheepishly.
"I put a hole in the wall, and a pie fell out. Don't be mad!" Charlotte cried.
"A pie fell out? Where'd a pie come from?" Jess asked in confusion.
"What kind of pie?" Líng asked, then whipped his gaze defensively back and forth as people looked at him. "What? I want a late-night snack!"
"I think we can worry about the pie later," Phobia said as she stepped through the doorway.
Tempest followed behind her, looking like she wanted to do murder. "I am going to strangle Sunset Blessing. That incident nearly gave Phobia a heart attack."
Phobia gestured for Tempest to calm down. "It doesn't matter. What matters is moving forward with the spell on Andrea. The workshop is not going to be available, and that was previously the most secure place to do the spell." She turned to Andri. "We need a place where this can't be recorded, and no ponies are present; these are requirements, so Luster Dawn does not cause a diplomatic incident. Where can she do it?"
Andri thought for a second. "The chapel outside. Sunset always refused to have cameras put in it. She said her time with God should be private. Cameras can see everything outside the building, but not what is happening inside."
"To the chapel then, but only Luster Dawn, little Andrea, her parents, and finally, Tempest to guard. The only ponies that should be present are little Andrea and Luster Dawn. This is not negotiable," Phobia instructed.
"I would prefer to remain at your side. Someone else may take this opportunity to attack the house, and you'll be unguarded," Tempest replied.
"Your concerns are noted and considered, but my decision still stands. Go with them," Phobia ordered.
Tempest sighed and still looked unhappy. "Yes, my Dreamwarden. Follow me, and stay close. I know the location of the chapel."
Many people only went to church when they wanted to beg God for aid. It didn't matter if you were religious or not; once you were desperate enough, you appealed to anything you could.
Wendy wasn't religious, but she still said a prayer as Luster Dawn made her final preparations. Andrea was sleeping again. Turning back into a human with the wound she had would be traumatic, but the spell warping and changing the body so rapidly would be traumatizing as well. It was best to keep her asleep through the procedure. Wendy and Charles sat on a bench as Luster sat in front of the altar, looking Andrea over with her horn.
Luster seemed far too ecstatic while having Andrea's life in her hooves. "I think I fully understand how this necklace works. It really is a brilliant and complex piece of magic. Just the kind of thing I would expect from Sunset Blessing. I have studied all her work, even though almost nopony ever gets access to it. The princess has her collected works in the restricted section. This necklace could do with a better crystal to anchor it, but it's understandable. She had to work with Earth materials. Using Equestrian emerald might provide an indefinite charge."
"I'm sure the necklace is fascinating, but you're supposed to be saving our daughter," Charles snapped.
Luster's horn went out briefly before reigniting. "Sorry, I'm trying to see if I can cast the spell with the necklace still on. That minimizes risk to your daughter."
Wendy gasped. "Can you do it?"
The pink uniform looked down at Andrea. "Yes, I think so. The theory is sound. To you, I will seem to be turning her back into a human, but that is only the necklace doing what its function is. I can work with the necklace, and when she takes it off, she'll be a healthy filly. I've studied all of Sunset Blessing and Sunset Shimmer's work. I can do this."
"So if she wears the necklace, she'll be human?" Wendy asked.
Luster seemed reluctant to answer. "Well, yes, if she did. However, I'm pretty sure the filly expressed a desire not to have to wear it anymore, and it does belong to Sunset Blessing, and she'll want it back. Andrea wouldn't be able to go out and about with this thing anyway. If it got lost or stolen, your government would be furious."
"Let's worry about one thing at a time, hun," Charles said, rubbing her back. "The important thing is Andrea is healthy and happy, no matter what form she is in."
Wendy sighed. "I know, it's just that so much is changing, and I worry having her being a whole different species than us will cause problems. You heard what happened to Andri, right? After she transformed, her husband and kids didn't; she ended up having to get divorced."
"I'm sorry that happened to her and a lot of other families, but it didn't happen to every family like that," Luster assured them. "I happen to know about Doctor Middleton, the pony-eared human inside— I recognized her right away. I'm a big fan of her work too. I hope Luna lets me stick around long enough to talk to her and Sunset Blessing. I have so many questions."
"What about her?" Wendy prompted before the unicorn could fangirl anymore.
Lister looked embarrassed. "Right, anyway, Doctor Middleton and her brother transformed when they were kids, but neither of their parents did. Their family didn't break up over it. They had to make adjustments, sure, but taking care of a human child and taking care of a pony foal isn't that dramatically different. They're all just kids, no matter what shape they are, and kids need their parents. It would be best if you talked to Doctor Middleton for advice about that. She should know."
"Worry about it later. We'll have a good heart-to-heart with the grumpy half-pony scientist. She needs to do the spell," Charles reiterated. "Hopefully, Andrea won't end up as half-and-half— although, I'm sure we'd love her all the same if she did."
Luster gestured them to keep their distance. "Okay, time to do this. Cross your tails— um, arms, hands, whatever humans do."
The unicorn's horn lit brightly, and she began to work.
The morning after…
Phobia stood in the bedroom, feeling the wall with her hooves.
"Are you certain it was this wall, Charlotte?" she questioned.
The little girl nodded rapidly. "It is! I promise! I put a hole in it. I'm not fibbing!"
The Dreamwarden nodded. "I believe you." She then turned her attention to the evidence on the floor, a pie, but a strange pie; its crust was purple and smelled awful.
"Is Andrea okay?" Charlotte asked worriedly. "Mommy and Daddy won't let us see her."
What to say to this child? She had to be honest. She could technically lie while in the flesh, but she had promised herself never to do so.
"She will be," Phobia assured the child. "She's going to be a little different when you see her. There were complications, but nothing she can't live with. Do you know Auntie Jessie downstairs? Andrea is going to be sorta like her, in a way. She's partly human and partly pony, but she's still the same sister you've always known. She just needs some extra rest and time to adjust to her altered form. She's got extra limbs and needs time to get used to that. I'm sure your parents will let you talk to her before the day is through. Please don't make fun of her for how she looks. She needs to know you still love her, even though she looks a bit different, even from Jess."
"What kind of different? Different how?" Charlotte asked. She didn't seem horrified, only expressing childlike curiosity. Of course, an adult had just told her that her sister was going to be alright, and six-year-olds would treat such things as words of God.
Honestly, always honesty. Never speak a lie. What to say? The truth was the only answer.
"Do you know what a centaur is, Charlotte?" Phobia asked as she picked up the pie with her wings and examined it more closely. The stench made her want to vomit. It didn't seem to be because of rot. This seemed relatively recently baked. The ingredients themselves were putrid.
"No," Charlotte said, shaking her head.
Phobia sighed. "She has a bottom half like a pony and a top half like a human, and her hair and fur is kind of sparkly like she was as a pony. Even her skin is slightly crystalline in nature."
"Does that mean like crystal?" Charlotte asked.
"Yes," Phobia answered as she lifted the pie and looked at the engraving on the bottom of the pie tin. The smell was so bad she didn't want to open her mouth to say more than she had to. She envied young Charlotte's human nose. The kid didn't know what reak she had let into the house.
"Can she give me pony rides?" Charlotte asked in a hopeful tone.
"Let's not do that. I'm not sure how strong she is yet. You could hurt her," Phobia answered calmly. This pie was a more significant concern than Andrea's condition, but she had to downplay it. She loathed to do it, but if this was what she feared it was, she might need to install a sleeper assassin in the house. "About the hole that had been here, can you describe it?"
Charlotte shook her head. "It was dark; I couldn't see it!"
Phobia frowned. That meant the portal hadn't given off any light source. Hopefully, that didn't mean it was completely invisible. The parents and Kristin had some heightened strength, in line with what former earth ponies had, even though they'd never actually been earth ponies in this timeline. Charlotte had been the big question mark up until last night. What had that other Triss done? Leaks, but to where? Equestria would be safe enough, but it might not be Equestria. Such things were dangerous. Who knew what was on the other side? If it got too bad, something would have to be done to ensure the worst didn't happen.
"Tempest? Can you bring me something airtight to store this pie in? I don't care if it is a Tupperware container. I need something," Phobia called out as she set the disgusting thing down again. This didn't seem like any pie from Equestria or Earth.
She wasn't going to do something so monstrous as murder a child out of speculation, but this bore watching. From the window of Charlotte's mind and with spies in the flesh, she would learn of the actual threat if it existed. It saddened her to do, but their world had to be protected.
I'm sorry, Charlotte, but I fear you have escaped one monster pony outside your window only to be found by another. I pray that all I'll ever have to do is watch you sleep.
