> The Rivers of Avalon
>  by Snowy89
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> Chapter 1
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So what’s this place called again?”

Twilight frowned and shot Rainbow an irritated glance. “Cherry Point – weren’t you listening?” She was being unreasonably snippish – she knew that – but the constant buzzing of flies and gnats had long since gotten on her nerves.

“Obviously not,” Rainbow snapped right back at her. “Let’s just hurry up and get there then, slowpoke.”

Twilight grumbled, but otherwise kept her peace. Together the two of them made their sullen way down the shrub-strewn rocky slope, taking care not to walk too close to the uneven, crumbling edge close by on their right; below flowed – if such a graceful word could be given to the swamps of the Eastern Loop – the river Sul and the watery mess they’d been trying to cross for the better part of a week.

Or more specifically, cross and make it back to the lofty peaks of Hurricanum. 

The town ahead – sitting on the shore of one of the scant few fast-flowing sections of the meandering river – would hopefully provide them the solution; even if it didn’t it’d still be the first welcome bit of civilization they’d seen since they’d had to leave their ship behind. 

The sun beat down relentlessly as they neared the base of the slope. “I am sooo itchy right now,” Rainbow whined. Twilight glanced back over her withers to see her flexing and ruffling her wings in agitation.

“We’ll be there soon,” Twilight said, now all the more aware of the rivers of sweat under her own jacket and panniers. “They’ll have showers at the inn. Surely.”

“There’s always the river...” Rainbow trailed off as she thought over just what she was suggesting. “Ya know, nevermind.”

Twilight chuckled. “It’s supposed to be quite beautiful farther downstream once it joins up with the other tributaries.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“Oh come on! Just because you could practically walk on it in its current state doesn’t mean it can’t be wonderful further on.”

“Uh huh.”

Twilight stumbled on the loose rock, cursing under her breath as she caught herself. “Stupid stones,” she mumbled. “We wouldn’t even be in this mess if anybody in this blasted place could work citrine for the life of them.”

“You good?” Rainbow asked as she hurried up to her side.

“Yeah,” Twilight said, keeping a tighter reign on her temper this time. “Reeeal eager to get out of this place.”

“No kidding.”





The town itself was... barebones, Rainbow decided as she flew low circles above. They’d been able to spy a few settlements either side of them over the last several days, but with their supplies as good as they were they figured they’d make straight for whichever one seemed nearest a ford. A short ways below she could easily make out Twilight just entering the outskirts; there were a few ponies and deer milling about near her, but she seemed okay from here. Still though... she took one last look around the town before moving to land – just in case.

Twilight had just entered the dusty riverside square when Rainbow landed lightly beside her, making her start. “Dash! There you are – find anything useful?”

“Not really,” Rainbow shook her head, scuffing at the worn cobblestone. “Bit of a dock by the water, though I don’t know why they bothered – it’s all marshy up ahead too. Only buildings big enough for an inn are right around here,” she finished with a jerk of her head to the rough semicircle of wood-and-stone structures they’d trod into. 

Twilight glanced around before nodding abruptly. “Right, well, shower first – then we’ll check out this dock,” she said as she led the way to the nearest of the buildings. Upon reaching it they crossed the wooden veranda, chipped and faded varnish crunching underhoof, and pushed open the dusty glass door. 

“Well, at least we know where to buy some food,” Rainbow said, taking a peek around the high-ceilinged store; a hooffull of people were shopping down aisles of surprisingly fresh-looking fruits and vegetables. “Waaay better stuff than I’d’ve thought too,” she added, having gone in for a closer look. 

“Well, this is a particularly fertile river basin we’re in,” Twilight said, looking around for things they could need later. “It would make sense that the food’s good here, even if everything else is a mess.”

Rainbow nodded along distractedly as she turned back to the door. “Not the inn though.”

“Yep,” Twilight followed. “Shelter, then supplies.” Trying to plan out their next move without even a tent to sleep in had quickly proven itself a fool’s errand, but doing so after a good night’s rest in a comfy bed? Foal’s play.

“Bet this is it,” Rainbow said as they came up to one of the tidier-looking buildings, one of only three that had a third floor. Flowering vines hung from the walls and roof adding a pop of pink and purple to the front; a bark of muffled laughter could be heard inside. 

The door squeaked on its hinges as they entered into what was undoubtably the main floor of the place: several tables – some occupied – sat between a bar and open kitchen on one side, with stairs by a large fireplace on the other. “We still got enough money for this place?”

“Mmhmm – when I said I took the ledgers off the ship, I meant all of them. Not enough notes to buy a house or anything, but a night here? Easy.”

“I kinda meant if you were willing to actually spend it,” Rainbow said with a wry smile. “‘Cause if I remember rightly you wanted to deliver those things untouched.”

Twilight frowned, flicking her tail irritably. “Yes, well, that was before spending four days sleeping under itchy bushes and trees, covered in sweat and dust. We’ll just say they must’ve fallen out a porthole when the ship went down.”

Rainbow chuckled, sharing her sentiment. “Sounds fine to me!” 

They carried on crossing over to the bar, figuring the lone deer tending some pots there could help them. “Hey Twilight?”

“Yeah?”

“This vacation sucks.”

“Yeah.”





“I can’t believe they’ve got a turnover array here!” Twilight gushed from where she was sitting in the shower basin, cool water pouring down on her. “In this little backwater!”

“Uh huh,” Rainbow said as she lazed damply on the bed. 

“At least, I think it’s an array. Unlimited water though! So good!” She rolled over limply on her side, the water pooling on the stone floor around her. 

Rainbow rolled her eyes at the display before going back to staring idly at the vaulted ceiling. They’d gotten a top floor room, with a window wide and sturdy enough to fly in and out of – something she was looking forward to shortly. Given the thick shrub-cover they’d been going through for the past few days she hadn’t been able to risk flying too far away from Twilight to scout, but with an actual easy-to-find inn she could take a proper look around and figure out just how the heck they were going to get out of this.

The river could, maybe, be crossed here – there’d be no reason to have a dock otherwise. Unless, of course, it was an old, useless thing from back when the water flowed faster. Although come to think of it...

“Hey Twi?” she called out.

“Mmhmm?”

“Where are we, anyways? I mean, like, even if we crossed the river here, where’d we even be exactly? ‘Cause it isn’t much good to us if we cross just to end up stuck back in the middle of nowhere.”

There was a sloshing, splashing noise right before Twilight stepped into the room, leaving a great trail of water behind her. 

“With this heat it’ll dry in no time,” Twilight said as she rustled through her panniers stowed at the foot of the bed. “So the innkeeper confirmed we’re in Cherry Point, right?” she said more to herself than Rainbow. “Thaaat’s here.”

Rainbow flopped over onto her belly to stare down at the map; one of the larger chips in Twilight’s hoof was currently pointing out a small dot on the eastern portion of the extensive basin they were in. “Uh huh. Sooo we need to go there” – Rainbow indicated a distant fork in the Whither river, where it split north and south around a mountain range southeast of them – “right? Pretty sure that’s where the castle was.”

Twilight nodded, her horn aglow as she took a moment to swipe away the water that had dripped onto the canvas. “Yup – Autumn Beech, and it was a fortress, not a castle.”

“Whole lotta nothing between here and there,” Rainbow said, choosing to ignore the correction.

“Yeah... plus, once we get there we still need to follow the South Whither here,” Twilight continued, her hoof tracing a squiggly line down through the mountain passes and towards Chestnut lake further south, “until we get back to Hurricanum. There’ll be plenty of towns and villages bordering it that the map’s not showing, surely, that can help with keeping us supplied.” In a pinch they could always graze, but if those river banks were as sparse as the ones around here they’d have to spend so much time doing so that they’d barely have any time left to make progress.

“We’d need a boat.”

“We’ll work something out.”

“Good enough for me,” Rainbow said as she suddenly jerked herself upright. “Right then! I’m going for a fly.”

“Ah – we’ll need a way to the river, umm... oh, it’s still called the Sul,” Twilight said after a quick look back at the map. “If we can cross the tributaries here at all then there’ll have to be a route for us down to the Whither – at least at this distance the slopes over there looked too steep for me.”

“I’ll check, I’ll check,” Rainbow waved her off as she hopped on over to the window sill. “I’ll be back in an hour or so.”

“Alright; I’ll keep planning things out in the meantime,” Twilight said distractedly, already back to rooting through her panniers.

Leaping nimbly from the sill, Rainbow gave her wings a few deft pumps as she took off into the sky, circling smoothly as she gained height. Another quick look around the village revealed nothing of note – still just as small and dull as when they’d arrived. The river too, for that matter, looked just as treacherous. Angling to fly low over the reedy muck, she set about a zigzag pattern crossing from bank to bank hoping to find something solid enough to be trod upon. Unfortunately she didn’t even need to land and test things to know she was probably wasting her time – the ‘ground’ below may’ve been covered in mosses and yellowing grass, but the sheer number of puddles and pools here and there made it clear the river was flowing just underneath. 

This wouldn’t be such a dratted nuisance if I could just carry Twi across, Rainbow grumbled to herself as she picked up altitude. Maybe there’s a gryphon around here we could hire? She snorted, dismissing the idea – she hadn’t seen a single gryph’ since they’d left Equus weeks ago, to say nothing of trusting her friend to a stranger. 

Once again getting some proper height under her, she took a good look at the areas around Cherry Point, scanning for anything that looked like it could work. Upstream was a bust: the same tall cliffs they’d spent the last day walking on likewise prevented them from hoofing it down to the water – more the pity seeing as the river looked to be actually flowing up there. And south downstream? The river widened out into a great bog as it slowed and settled before branching east and south again; from here she could make out several rocky islands and pillars, but there still didn’t seem to be any clear way across, and with the sun already sinking in the sky there wasn’t light enough to go there and back again for a proper check. 

Giving up on finding a route across today, she took another long look at the valley they were effectively trapped in – its countless tea terraces, fields of oats and leafy fruit trees interspersed with clumps of wood-and-stone homes and workshops – before heading slowly back down to the inn. 

In short order she’d landed back down in the town’s square, a little cloud of dust erupting around her. There were still a few ponies and deer wandering about, but with the shops all closed up there was little reason to linger. 

The inn, on the other hoof, was right busy, but however fun a chill night out drinking with friends could be, she had no interest whatsoever in getting to know anybody here. Nudging open their room’s door she found Twilight more-or-less where she’d left her, surrounded by scatterings of papers and plotting tools on the bed. “You didn’t get the bed all damp, did you?” Rainbow asked as she kicked the door closed behind her. “‘Cause I really don’t want to have to sleep on the floor.”

“Hmm? Nah,” Twilight said with barely a glance up at her. “It’s fine. How’d the scouting go?”

“Meh. Cliffs’re too tall upriver, it’s all a bog right here, and it’s even boggier downstream.” She hopped up onto the bed herself, taking care not to disturb any of the sheets as she nestled down next to the pillows. “Didn’t have time to scout all the way there and back again though.”

Twilight nibbled her lip, nodding. “I’d figured as much. I think what we should do in the morning is see about getting a guide, or at least some advice from the locals – perhaps they’ll know of some way across.”

“I guess we could ask around in the tavern tonight?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Yes, because surely we’ll get a coherent answer from a bunch of drunken farmers.”

Rainbow snorted. “Yeah, nevermind. Hey, what about dinner? I’m kinda sick of oatbars and grazing.”

Twilight looked out the window at the rapidly approaching night before briskly jumping off the bed. “It’s not too late – let’s take a look around for something to eat.”

“Alriiight! Let’s see if the food’s any different here than back at the city, eh?”





The night air was cool with just the barest hint of a breeze as they wandered around the few lit streets in the area. They’d been searching for some twenty minutes now and had yet to find a thing; it was some consolation that a town like this would be unlikely to have more than one or two restaurants in it, but they were starting to tire out. 

Rainbow paused as they passed under a softly-buzzing zephyric lamp, staring up with a sigh at the moths fluttering about its warm glow. Twilight sidled quietly up next to her as the two of them stood together, enjoying the night air. 

“We could always just get something back at the inn,” Twilight said eventually, breaking the companionable silence they’d fallen into. “At this point if it’s hot, it’s good enough for me.”

Rainbow’s tail swished back and forth in contemplation. “Yeah, may as well I guess – it’s getting too dark for this anyways.”

“It’ll be alright,” Twilight said as they turned back the way they came. “I’m sure there’ll be plenty of, umm, ‘rustic fare’ at the inn.”

“I was kinda hoping to try the street food first, but I guess there’s always tomorrow.” By and large Rainbow didn’t much care for Avalon, or any of the other major islands around Equus for that matter, but on the rare occasion she found herself travelling to another country she always aimed herself straight at the local cuisine – however bizarre the places she was in might be, the food at least was usually good.

“I don’t think it’ll really be much different than back in Hurricanum,” Twilight said as they reentered the riverside square – since they’d mostly wandered in circles they hadn’t actually gone that far from it. “And I know you pigged out on just about every type of thing they had there.”

“Of course I did! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get a decent donair back home, even in Cloudsdale? Practically the only good thing about this diplomatic thingy is the food.”

Twilight quirked a brow at her. “Thisstrictly voluntarytrip you mean? Assuming this mess even counts anymore?”

“Well, alright,” Rainbow dithered, “I guess the adventure’s good too; plus I get to hang out with you some more.”

Twilight smiled, gently flicking her with her tail as she pushed open the inn’s door. “Well, I’m glad you’re here whatever your motivation,” she said earnestly. “Now let’s grab dinner – early or not, I’m beat.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed, rolling her wings and arching her back – days sleeping on parched grass and dirt had made no friend of her spine. “No kidding.” This trip they were on was hardly turning out the way she’d expected; the diplomatic meetings they’d been observing had been considerably more boring than she’d anticipated, the locals were all weird – it felt like she couldn’t say or do anything without everyone looking at her like she’d just sneezed on somebody! She’d hoped that this sightseeing trip Twilight had managed to snag a small airship for was going to be where things finally picked up, but they hadn’t even gotten to their first stop before the damn thing’s lift failed. 

Hopefully a good, hot meal would help cheer her up, because so far, she was more than a little upset.
> Chapter 2
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight awoke to the dim grey-blue of the predawn sky outside their window; birdsong drifted in through the half-open window, mingling with the soft sound of Rainbow’s breathing beside her. Rolling over, Twilight squirmed a bit under the covers to find a more comfortable position as she ran over their plans for the day. 

Restock supplies, find some better maps, see if we can find a guide, she thought sleepily to herself as she mused getting another hour’s rest. After a few minutes she decided that yes, a little more time in the first comfy bed she’d had in days was worth the late start. 





When Twilight awoke again it was to the sound of chatter and sunlight. She sat up groggily, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before glancing out the window – judging by the light it was probably just after sunrise proper. Yawning, she nudged Rainbow a couple times to try and wake her before casting aside her half of the covers and heading to the bathroom to wash up. 

Feeling a good deal more refreshed after splashing some water on her face, she reentered the main room just as Rainbow was crawling out of bed. “What time is it?” Rainbow asked with a yawn of her own as she walked over to the window. “Oh wow, it’s way later than we’ve been sleeping in lately, eh?”

“Mmhmm,” Twilight nodded as she set about gathering up her stuff. “Let’s find us some breakfast when you’re ready – if what we were told last night was right, we’ve a few leads to get going on with.” With any luck the idle chatter they’d gotten up to with some of the patrons over supper about how to go about crossing the river south would yield some fruit. 

“Sure – gimme a sec,” Rainbow said as she crossed to the bathroom.

It was not many minutes later that saw the two of them leaving the inn, carrying their coats and satchels along with; while they weren’t certain they wouldn’t just be returning later that day, neither of them felt they could bear the risk of theft. 

“Alright,” Twilight said as they reentered the square. “Supplies first – might as well top up now in case we want to leave on a whim.”

“We don’t need much, right? Just food I think.”

Twilight nodded. “Bars, yes. I don’t really like the idea of needing to boil riverwater on the go, but it’s far too impractical to do as we did on the way here.” When they abandoned their airship they took with them tens of litres of water, uncertain when they’d find their next fresh source – the shear burden of such would be wholely untenable on the next leg of their trip though, which was looking to be far more swampy and difficult to traverse. 

“Yeah, no, lugging all that stuff sucked hard,” Rainbow snorted. “It’s all rivers from here though – just like your map said – so we’re good.”

“Mmhmm. Speaking of maps, I’m hoping we can find some more comprehensive ones for the area around here” – she paused, frowning at her surroundings before carrying on – “but considering how, umm, ‘quaint’ this place is, I somehow doubt we’ll find anything.”

“Worth a look,” Rainbow shrugged. 

A quick check around the square to see just what shops were even in it found that there was a general store right next to the grocers from the day before. “How convenient,” Twilight said as they went to nudge open the door. “Now, let’s see what we can find in here.”





Surprisingly much, as it turned out. Twilight hummed happily to herself as she finished stowing away the last of the goods they’d picked up. “Extra rope: check,” she mumbled to herself as she worked. “Compass-that-isn’t-stuck-screwed-to-the-ship: check.”

“Not that we need it,” Rainbow rolled her eyes.

“Oh shush – we’re not all winged here.”

“As if I’d leave ya alone long enough to get lost.” Rainbow flicked her tail irritably, clearly wanting to carry on right away. “So can we go now?”

“After I’ve finished checking everything,” Twilight insisted.

“Why? You already did that in the shop.”

“Wellyou’re only being so snippy because that clerk was a condescending rube,” Twilight frowned at her friend. “There’s no need to take it out on me.” She was rather miffed at the pony herself: while true she tended to be overly fastidious in her habits – and had been quite picky about the quality of the items they’d bought – that was no call for him to have been so rude to her.

Unless she’d committed yet another faux pas – the lack of texts on Avalon’s culture back in Equus was criminal, and she’d already made a mountain of them back in the city as a result.

Rainbow flushed, glaring back at the shop. “Yeah, well... yeah,” she sighed, ruffling her wings. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, Dash,” Twilight said shortly as she reseated her panniers. “Now let’s go next door and grab some food; then it’s just seeing if this guide even exists before we head back on out of here.” Ultimately, there was little point in staying – most villages and towns in this region lacked any sort of burst-signal that could reach Hurricanum to call for aid; come what may, they were stuck hoofing it back. It certainly didn’t help that they’d gone down right at the start of their mini sightseeing-vacation either – they wouldn’t be expected back for days yet. 

A quick in-and-out of the grocers later and they were well on their way to the southern part of the village – it was there that they’d been told they may be able to find their guide through the bog and across the river. Strictly speaking, a fair number of the locals knew of one path or another that would get across, but they were hoping to convince this one to take them all the way to Autumn Beech, which was far and again farther than a simple day’s journey. 

The two of them soon ambled out from a narrow alleyway and into a weedy green of sorts, with a scattering of benches and nets around – for some local game, if Twilight remembered correctly. Aside from a few foals playing around together while their parents watched and chatted they were alone, except – “there,” Twilight nodded her head towards a small clump of trees. “I think I see who we’re looking for.” Earth pony, brown and white, they’d been told. 

Rainbow just shrugged as they carried on, soon finding that the bushy trees hid another modest dock, this one with a few small dinghies floating in the shallow, reed-filled water. While a couple of ponies were spending their time optimistically fishing, the one they had their eyes set on appeared to be taking a nap in the late-morning light as she lay alone on the gently-bobbing planks. “I wish I could be doing that,” Rainbow muttered to herself. 

Twilight rolled her eyes. “You were literally saying this morning that we slept in.”

“Nuh uh! I said we were sleeping in late compared to normal,” Rainbow bickered. “Not that we were sleeping late enough.”  

Twilight huffed and stepped onto the floating pier, the platform sinking down slightly under her weight. “Let’s just find out if this is who we’re looking for.”

The mare was fairly nondescript, but her rough, hoary mane and bay dun fur matched the description they’d gotten. Despite how warm the midday sun was she wore a sturdy-looking greenish coat and a deep-blue touque.

“Who wears a touque in this weather?” Twilight muttered as she tried to figure out the best way to wake the mare. 

“Maybe she’s crazy,” Rainbow said as she noisily walked up to the pony, squinting as she stared down at her. “Yep – definitely sleeping,” she said after a moment. 

Twilight grumbled. “I doubt it’ll help our case any if we wake her, but there’s nothing left on our list to do in the meanwhile.”

Rainbow was about to reply when a flick of the mare’s hoary tail cut her off. “Not,” she began in a curiously lilting accent, “actually asleep.” The mare rolled over and up, her back arching as she stretched catlike. “And who,” she continued with a roll of her shoulders, “might you two be?”

“Ah,” Twilight said, momentarily flustered. “Well, umm, I’m Twilight and this is Rainbow” – she jerked her head towards her somewhat skeptical-looking friend – “and we were hoping to find a guide to take us south of here; someone at the inn suggested you could do it.”

The mare chuffed. “’Course they did.” She looked the two of them up and down before raising a brow. “And from the look of it I don’t doubt you need the help. How’d you even manage to make it out to here?”

A swift glance at Rainbow made it clear she hadn’t taken the condescending tone well at all. “Our ship went down,” Twilight shot out quick, hoping to forestall any argument. “A ways north of here. We’re looking to get back to Hurricanum as soon as we can. You are the mare we were advised about, right?” she asked with a hesitant frown.

“Squirrel,” the mare nodded. “And yes – it’s not a profession or anything, but I’ll need to cross the swamps again eventually anyways.”

Rainbow snorted. “Squirrel? That’s your name?”

Squirrel smirked at her in amusement. “Glass houses, filly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean!”

“Calm down Dash,” Twilight sighed. “Look, miss Squirrel, how far south could you take us?”

“Maybe I won’t take you at all,” she said as she continued staring at Rainbow. “She hardly seems a pleasant sort.”

“Like we need your help,” Rainbow muttered mutinously.

“That’s enough Rainbow!” Twilight scolded. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Let’s start again, shall we?”

Squirrel finally dropped her gaze and gave Twilight another look. “Alright then,” she said shortly. “Let’s.”

“Right,” Twilight said, pacing in place as she tried to collect her thoughts. “Right. Rainbow and I were traveling around the Basin – sightseeing – when our ship’s citrine failed.”

“Failed?” Squirrel interrupted, sounding oddly interested. “Really? How? ‘Cause that stuff doesn’t just fail.”

Twilight shook her head. “Don’t know – wouldn’t hold a charge and we couldn’t troubleshoot it.”

“Hmm...” Squirrel trailed off, ears folded back in thought.

“In any event, that was some ways north of here and nearly a week back. We originally set sail from Hurricanum, so that’s where we’re headed back to. Or trying to, rather.”

Squirrel nodded along absentmindedly. “No easy fords around here, no. You confident we can’t salvage the ship?”

“Fairly. Sufficiently so that it’s not worth spending the time going back on hoof and hoping for the best.”

Squirrel sat down lightly, rubbing her chin in thought. Occasionally she’d glance between Twilight and Rainbow before staring back into the distance. “I don’t suppose – Rainbow was it? – would be willing to just fly ahead and spare us her company?” she finally asked.

“As if I’d leave Twi alone with you!” Rainbow barked at her.

“Rainbow and I are staying together,” Twilight said, feeling increasingly annoyed at the two mares.

Squirrel chuffed again and shrugged. “Alright, alright, fine – I’ll take you, but I’ll want to leave within the day, okay?”

“We can leave right away if you want,” Twilight said as she relaxed, relieved that the guide problem looked to be solved. 

“Yeees, that’ll work fine,” Squirrel said as she gathered and resat her panniers. “Can you meet me at the southwest corner of the village in an hour? Near some boulders – I need to get some stuff first.”

“Yep!” Twilight agreed as, with a final nod, the mare hurried off into the village proper. “Well, I’m glad that’s settled,” she said as the mare disappeared from view.

“I don’t like her,” Rainbow said bluntly, still staring at the alley Squirrel had gone down.

“Rudeness does rather seem to be the leitmotif for this village, yes.” 

Rainbow grumbled before turning abruptly and stalking along the riverbank. “I saw the boulders she’s talking about yesterday – this way.”

Twilight shook her head at her friend’s apparent hostility as she followed close behind, quickly becoming lost in her own thoughts. The mare seemed alright, all brusqueness aside. Admittedly, they’d neglected to work out just how far she’d take them... or the cost too, for that matter. As much as Twilight would like to think the other mare was helping them out of the goodness of her heart, the mere thought of that almost had her chuckling – generosity did not seem to be Avalon’s strong suit. 

Well, she thought to herself, we’ll just have to deal with that next. How annoying. 

“Dang Cadance,” she muttered, idly kicking a stone out of her path. “Could’ve been at home, working on something important, but nooo, I have to ‘expand my horizons’ and ‘experience new cultures.’”

“To be fair, you are kind of a shut-in, Twi,” Rainbow said as she fell back a few paces to walk in step with Twilight. 

“And getting sent to a different continent was a reasonable solution?!” Twilight huffed, still, after all these weeks, upset about that. “And not just any one, but Avalon?! I feel like we’re two centuries in the past here!”

Rainbow actually laughed at that. “Ha! No kidding – I totally told you so too, didn’t I? I totally did. Betcha glad you got me here with you, eh?”

Twilight just continued grumbling under her breath, a trail of dust forming behind her as she stamped onwards. True – she was glad she had Rainbow here as a friendly face and a helping hoof – but she was still far too miffed about the whole thing to talk about it anymore; it also didn’t help that she thought she’d gotten over her irritation at getting cajoled into this back in Hurricanum.

Or in Thistle before that.

Or in Sunrise too, for that matter. She sighed, feeling deflated – it seemed she still hadn’t gotten over the indignity and bother of it all.

She stumbled slightly when Rainbow bumped her flank. “It’s still a vacation though, even if it’s kinda sucky; that’s something, right?”

“I suppose,” Twilight nodded glumly. “Though I figured you’d be griping right alongside me.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Harder to get really upset when you’re already upset, you know? Like” – she rubbed the back of her neck, her gaze casting about as she tried to find the right words – “like, I got to keep you from blowing this place up, so I can’t be angry too? I don’t know – something like that. I’ll be complaining later – don’t worry.”

Twilight smirked. “Ahh, so we have to take turns complaining about this place, then, hmm?”

Rainbow nodded. “Totally.”





The boulders ended up being pretty much just that – a scattering of massive stones calved off from a giant stone outcropping jutting out at Cherry Point’s southwestern edge. On one side ran the Sul southwards; on the other, a nameless tributary flowing west. Where they met lay a great, stagnant bog blocking any clear path southwards, either by hoof or by boat. Several stone pillars and mesas – great and small – pierced the swamp like little islands of solid ground in a sea of infirmity. The ceaseless rustling of countless insects was constant even from this far off.

“I really hope Squirrel knows her stuff,” Twilight mused as she idly swatted the umpteenth midge off of her. “’Cause this is... wow. Disheartening to say the least.”

Rainbow just grunted – she’d seen all this yesterday after all, and it wasn’t looking any friendlier in the morning sun. “How far does this thing go, anyways? The swamps, I mean.”

“At its longest?” Twilight thought back to what she could remember of her maps; unfortunately even the local ones weren’t that accurate. “About twenty kilometres.”

“Dear Celestia.”

“We’ll be fine once it starts flowing again,” Twilight added hurriedly. “So realistically it’s maybe only five or so.”

“Oh joy,” Rainbow drawled with a flex of her wings. “Only five kilometres. In a swamp. On hoof. With Squiiirrel.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Well don’t let her hear you say that or she’ll try and insist you fly on ahead again.”

“And leave her alone with you?!” Rainbow scoffed as she found a warm patch of stone to lie down on. “She’d probably get lost and eat you without me around to scout.”

“We’d almost certainly die of exposure long before starvation set in,” Twilight said absentmindedly as she kept a weather eye out for Squirrel. “Or maybe disease, first.”

Rainbow’s ears shot up. “Wait – we got our shots, right? That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, we’ll be fine against the major stuff.”

“Oh good,” Rainbow relaxed back down again. “Would hate to get all the back home just to die of black fur or something.”

“Definitely not a problem,” Twilight confirmed. “And not least of which because you’re not a gnoll.”





“Hey Twi?”

“Mmm?”

“You think we can trust her?”

Twilight sat up from her doze. “I trust her to stick to any agreements we settle on,” she said, after giving it a few moments’ thought. “I don’t see why she wouldn’t.”

Rainbow grumbled, but didn’t argue.

“You okay?” Twilight asked, walking up to sit down next to her friend.

“This sucks.”

Twilight snorted. “I’m pretty sure you’ve said that already.” 

Rainbow continued looking downcast.

“I know all this is rough, Dash, but from the sounds of it we might actually have a real path back – not just optimistically wandering around like we’ve been doing these past few days.” It was, in fact, a massive relief to Twilight to have found both a town, and a guide. “This is considerable progress.”

Rainbow grumbled again, throwing out her wings in a great, billowy stretch. “I dunno... I guess it’s just that we’ve only just gotten into a town again,” she finally said. “I was looking forward to some real rest, I suppose. It’s not even noon and we’re already bustling out again with some snippy mare.”

“It is all rather a bit sudden, isn’t it?” Twilight was certain she’d have been far more reticent about leaving their first safe haven so quickly had she been back in Equus, but out here? After how desperate she had beginning to feel since the ship went down? “I guess I just want to keep moving. Moving is progress, and progress is good.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, cheering up a touch. “Yeah. Really hope this mare doesn’t try to screw us, though.”

“We’ll work something out if we need to Dash,” Twilight said, giving her a friendly nudge. “It’ll be fine.”





It was more than an hour later when Squirrel returned, clopping slowly and steadily up the outcropping to meet them, burdened as she was with a bundle of cloth... something or others draped over her back. Twilight poked Rainbow awake as she neared. While her friend was yawning and stretching, Twilight couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the mare had brought, and how much, exactly, it was going to cost them.

She didn’t need to wait long. “Hello again!” Twilight called out as Squirrel scrabbled to the top of the rock with them. “Something we’ll be needing, I suppose?” she asked, head cocked as she looked over the extra gear.

“Yep,” Squirrel affirmed, shucking the bundles to the ground. “You two are not kitted out properly for that mess down there; I mean seriously – a coat? A scarf? And that’s it?” She tutted dramatically. 

“Yes, well, that’s why we’re hir – seeking your help,” Twilight replied tersely.

“Oh no you don’t,” Squirrel waggled a hoof at her. “I heard that! You were going to say ‘hiring,’ weren’t you?” She smirked at her before gesturing out at the bog beyond. “Because you should’ve been – ain’t no way you’re crossing that on someone’s goodwill alone.”

Twilight sighed, but was cut off before she could respond. “Heck no!” Rainbow shouted out, pointing a hoof accusingly at the clothes and gear on the ground. “We ain’t paying for that!”

“Oh really?” Squirrel frowned at her.

“You can’t just go buyin’ stuff and then tell us we gotta pay,” Rainbow insisted. 

Squirrel just continued frowning at her, silently. 

Perhaps I’d best head this off. “We should probably discuss renumeration before we go any further,” Twilight said, resisting the urge to pull over her panniers and recount their funds. “We split up too quickly earlier for it.”

“Bloody tourists,” Squirrel muttered with a shake of her head before speaking more loudly. “You obviously wouldn’t’ve gone to me – a guide – without expecting to pay; proper gear’s just part of that. Clearly.”

Rainbow looked like she wanted to bite back, but couldn’t seem to think of anything reasonable to say judging by the pink dusting her cheeks. “Look,” Twilight began, “let’s just – let’s just start again, okay?”

Squirrel quirked a brow at her. “You mean again, again?” She let out a gusty sigh. “Alright, fine – but let’s be quick about this – daylight’s wasting.”

Much better, Twilight thought to herself. Let’s keep this straight and orderly. “Right. First, how far can you take us?”

“Autumn Beech – I’m heading northeast after that, but I can give you directions down to Hurricanum, if you somehow still needed them.”

“’Follow the river,’ yes,” Twilight muttered, eyes closed as she visualized the map in her head. “That’s about halfway then – and the difficult half at that. And what, umm, what are you charging?”

“And we’re not made of money either!” Rainbow interjected, arms crossed and glaring.

The mare put on a decidedly unfriendly smile as she named a sum best described as ‘egregious.’

“What!” Rainbow squawked. “No! Not a chance. No.”

“Fine by me,” Squirrel shrugged, still wearing that predatory grin. “You two can just cross the swamps yourselves then. After all, it’s just hundreds of square miles of frigid waters, mud so thin it’ll swallow you whole, and not a single hard, dry bit of land to pitch your tent on for the night” – she looked Rainbow up and down scathingly – “not that you even have one.”

Rainbow lurched forwards, taking a pair of heavy steps towards Squirrel. “’K, one: the water ain’t even cold and two: it’s, like, a day’s walk across – we won’t even need to sleep out there.”

“It’s cold enough to freeze your legs off after you’ve been wading in it for several hours straight,” Squirrel countered, taking half a step back. “And it sure as anything’s going to take you more than a day to get across it if you spend the whole time bumbling around lost like an idiot.”

Twilight resisted the urge to facehoof. “What is with you two,” she muttered venomously. “We need to get across this Dash – we’ll pay it.”

“What?!”

“Hah!”

“How long to get to Autumn Beech, Squirrel?” she ground out whilst making a mental note to toss Cadance off a very high bridge when she got back home. 

“On my own? I was planning for a leisurely three days by hoof and canoe, but with you two?” She paused, nibbling her lip as she tapped the ground contemplatively. “Maybe four or five days if we were moving fast.”

That sounded about right to Twilight – they may only be traveling some hundred-and-fifty kilometres as the pegasus flies, but it was a difficult hundred-and-fifty. “Right, then. Half the notes upfront and the other on arrival I take it?”

“Hmm... you got them stored somewhere waterproof?” Squirrel asked as she set about dividing up the new gear.

“Yep.”

“Then keep it – I don’t have anywhere good to put it that isn’t already stuffed full; plus, I somehow doubt you two’ll stiff me.” She nodded down to the ground. “Take it – it won’t cover all of you, but it’ll help.”

On the ground if front of them was a triplet of big, gauzy overcoats alongside what looked for all the world like little tin censers. Twilight’s horn glowed as she levitated up one of the coats – it was nearly thin enough to see through, with a hastily sewn-on hood that looked far too large for comfort. “For the bugs, I presume?”

“Yep,” Squirrel confirmed as she picked up one for herself. “I’ve got some string to tie the hood down loose around our necks. Our barrels will be exposed, but this is the best I could get put together around here on such short notice.”

There was a tinkling sound as Rainbow prodded the censers – little balls on chains, covered in holes. “Let me guess,” she said, picking one up for a closer look. “More bug stuff?”

“Clearly. Don’t know what the bugs are like where you’re from, but the more protection we’ve got against the teeming, buzzing masses the better.” Gathering up a censer for herself, she walked a few paces towards the swamps. “The main route I know of curves like a big ‘S’” – she gestured first to a seemingly random spot some ways east of them, then to one of the small mesas piercing the muck to the west, before pointing vaguely towards some point due south – “but if we go quick, and leave now, we can get out of this mess before sunset.”

“Is the path not marked?” Twilight asked as she walked up to stand beside her. Near as she could tell Squirrel had simply gestured to random places for all the landmarks she could see.

“Sticks, yeah – the flags rotted off them ages ago. Nobody’s bothered to replace them seeing as everyone just takes the longer route by cat or canoe.”

“Mmm,” Twilight nodded – she’d already checked out the safer path by map the night before, but it was considerably longer, using a narrow river that flowed west out of Cherry Point and into the colourfully-named Basin of Fangs before turning south and hooking up with the Whither; that much of it was upstream from here certainly didn’t help matters either. 

“Alright then, if you two’re ready, let’s go.” With a sharp jerk of her head Squirrel started back down the outcropping, heading east.

“Right! Let’s go, Dash,” Twilight said, hurriedly picking up a censer, Rainbow huffing beside her as she followed suit.

“I still think we should’ve at least haggled or something,” Rainbow insisted as they sought to catch up to their guide. “’Cause for that much money she should be guiding us all the way back to Almond and preening us along the way.”

“I know,” Twilight admitted, sighing. “I just didn’t want to risk chasing her off, especially given how... bumpy our introduction was.”

To Rainbow’s credit she did look a bit sheepish at that. “She just rubs me the wrong way, is all. Practically everypony – or everyone, whatever – does here. I mean, remember when you got attacked back in Thistle?”

Twilight paused a moment as she tried to figure what she meant. Wait a second... “I hardly think getting jostled in a busy market crowd constitutes an ‘attack,’ Dash.”

“Well what about that time that sailor almost drowned you?” Rainbow ploughed on.

“He was literally pulling me back onto the boat.” She was still embarrassed about falling out of the dinghy in the first place.

Rainbow scoffed. “A likely story! And let’s not forget them giving us that faulty airship.”

“Pure incompetence on the engineer’s part, I suspect,” Twilight countered. “Or inadequate maintenance. I should think there are considerably more efficient means of assassinating us than junk citrine.”

“Yeah, well. Fine,” Rainbow sulked. She’d been like this ever since they’d left Sunrise back in Equus – at first Twilight thought that the extended travel at sea simply didn’t agree with her, but lately she was beginning to suspect Rainbow was convinced the locals were just looking for an opportunity to pounce on them.

Nonsense of course – most of the Avalonians she’d seen so far were charming, if in a strange kind of way. Hardly dangerous. 

“Plus... sure it’s costing us a mint, but strictly speaking, it isn’t our mint anyways – it was the one that went down with the ship, remember?”

Rainbow stared at her bug-eyed. “You... oh wow, you’re not some secretly sort of changeling spy, are you?”

Twilight snorted, sliding a little on the scree. “I should think not. This is what the funds were for, anyways... well, sort of. That and I may still be just a teensy bit upset about the questionable ship-build standards here and the consequences thereof.” More than a little, really, and hey – needs must. “Priority’s on us getting back swiftly and safely.”

“And hey, if there’s a little left over, we could always keep it as bonus pay, right?”

“Now that would be a step too far, I think.”

“Aw, nuts.”
> Chapter 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

They were about a mile downslope from the eastern fringes of Cherry Point when the ground started becoming soggy. Here, at the base of one of the area’s countless tea terraces, Squirrel called them to a halt. 

“Right,” she began, stopping to rummage through her panniers. “Things’re only going to get muckier from here; let’s get our coats and stuff on.”

Rainbow grumbled as she did her best to pull on the great, gauzy coat; more of a blanket, really, it sat over her satchels and her wings. “Never gonna be able to fly like this,” she groused from beneath the over-large hood.

“So? Don’t put it on, spare us your company, and fly on ahead,” Squirrel sniped as she fished out a hoof-sized tin.

There was no way Rainbow was going to just leave Twilight in the hooves of this mare even on dry land, no nevermind in a nasty-looking swamp. “Yeah – no,” she countered as she fiddled with the hemp drawstring.

“Just tie it loose,” Squirrel said from under her own draping as she went to help Twilight attach her censer; before she could, however, Twilight had levitated it up herself, pausing only a moment to buff the rust off and flex out the dents before securing it around her neck. “Everything we have to worry about’s buzzing, not crawling, so there’s no need to throttle yourself,” she added, watching as Twilight worked it all by magic. 

Rainbow grunted, loosening her knot. She, like the other two, looked like little more than foals dressed as ghosts, with nothing above their cannons showing. A part of her hated just how silly she looked, but given that the impending swarm of bugs were hovering like a thin, black fog before them, their hissing so loud that all three of them were having to speak up to be heard, she was willing to make an exception. 

“Here,” Squirrel shoved a hooffull of reddy-brown chips at her. Rainbow took them in her own, her nostrils flaring at the strong scent. Well, doesn’t take a genius to figure this bit out. She grabbed her censure, looking it over til she realized the top screwed off. With only a bit of fumbling she managed to fill it up and get the cap back on, finally attaching the chain to her neckloop.

“Alright, this stuff burns for ages,” Squirrel said, awkwardly fishing around under her cloak. “Technically the bugs won’t be bad enough for a while to really need them, but I’d prefer just to get them going now – I’ve got more besides, anyways.”

“I can do it,” Twilight offered, her horn aglow as, with a moment’s concentration, there was a flash inside Squirrel’s censer; faint wisps of smoke and a peculiar, pleasant scent soon followed. 

“Oh!” Squirrel looked surprised as Twilight lit the other two. “You can do fire cantrips too.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Well then...” Squirrel looked like she wanted to say something more, but instead just shook her head. “Off we go, I suppose.”

The trio continued their wet, squishy way forwards, but it wasn’t long before each hoofstep seemed to sink just that much deeper into the moss and weedy, drowned grass. Ahead of her, Twilight gasped as the chilly waters splashed against her fetlocks, something Rainbow herself was trying her best to ignore.

The cloaks, at least, were working wonders on the bugs – a quick, curious glance over her withers made her start as she saw dozens of blackish bumps moving about on her back; as annoying as it was looking at everything with a cloth over her eyes, she begrudgingly admitted that Squirrel had been right to bring them – this’d be Tartarus without. 

Danged if she could tell if the incense was doing anything though.

“You sure you know where we’re going?” she called out to Squirrel. “All just looks like the same to me.”

“Oh for goodness – calm your feathers, filly! What’s the point of me if you’re not even going to trust me?” The mare stumbled a bit in the muck, cursing. “I can see the blasted marker up ahead.”

“Yuh huh.” Rainbow knew she was being aggressive, but her cloth-covered wings were bothering more than she’d anticipated; sure, she knew that she wouldn’t want to get airborne anyways – with how soft the ground here was landing again would be a nightmare. Nevertheless... another quick glance at the mass of mosquitos, midges and who-knows-what covering her convinced her to just try and suffer through. 

A pity the jury-rigged fly sheets weren’t made to tie around her barrel – she was really hoping it was just grass she was feeling tickling her. 





Things turned quickly into a cold monotony of squelching mud, dying reeds and dead trees. Still a ways ahead of them Twilight could make out one of the many mesas rising up in the midday sun. While a good part of her was still questioning their decision not to just take the longer, more pleasant route (this area did have some wonderful karst topography, after all!), she’d managed to convince herself that this way was at least quite short, and would probably be as unpleasant as the trip was going to get.

Probably.

She couldn’t quite figure out how Cherry Point was avoiding all the insects either – certainly its height above the waters helped, but it couldn’t be enough at only a hundred metres or so, could it? Maybe the wind played a role... “Hey Squirrel,” she called out to the mare, in part just to break the unhappy silence the party had fallen into. “You’re not from Cherry, are you?”

“Hah! Me?” Squirrel called back to her as she carefully trod across a half-submerged log. “A hillpony? Nah, not a chance.”

Rainbow gave a reluctant snort at ‘hillpony.’

“Well, it’s just that – actually, where are you from then?”

“Wanderbelle.”

“That’s, umm...” Twilight trailed off, wishing she could get out her maps and figure out where that was; it sounded familiar though. “That’s somewhere to the north, I think?”

“Yep – mining town on the Myr.”

Twilight waited for her to continue, but it seemed like she’d need some prodding. “Sooo...”

Squirrel gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes?”

Snippy or not, Twilight was danged if she was going to be accompanied by little more than buzzes, grunts and the sucking of hooves for the whole trip; plus, the silence was making her agitated to boot. “What’re you doing all the way down here, then? And going east, no less.”

“Escorting a couple of tourists, lost and in over their heads; what did you think, exactly?”

“Hey!” Twilight barked. “There’s no call for hostility! I’m just trying to make conversation!”

Squirrel paused, looking like she was going to say something; a few moments later she carried on, a sullen gait to her step.

“What’s her problem,” Rainbow muttered.

“Oh, it’s nothing really,” Squirrel snarked back at her. “I just wasn’t planning on wading fetlock-deep through a fetid swamp on my vacation – that’s all.”

“You could’ve said ‘no’ when we asked,” Rainbow sniped back.

“No, I couldn’t. Obviously.” Squirrel deflated, glancing back at them with a shake of her head. “You two nitwits are clearly lost, alone, and – given those accents – who knows how far away from home. And seriously, asking randomly around town for a guide to cross the Green Leek wetlands? You’re clearly beyond desperate.”

Twilight reddened under her cowl. “Well, what else were we supposed to do, precisely? We need to get back to Hurricanum as soon as possible and we’re not used to hoofing it through abysmal conditions to do so.”

“Exactly my point. It’s not like I could’ve...” Her tail lashed as she fought to find the right words. “You know what? Whatever. Just... whatever.”

The group fell again into an unhappy silence as they continued plodding towards the nearing mesa. Twilight couldn’t help but admit that she had a point – they had effectively backed her into a corner – not that that excused her mood. At least, I don’t think it does. She exchanged a brief look back with Rainbow – or her covered head, at any rate – but neither of them could really think of what to say. 

But at least the cloud of incense hanging around them was nice; it was lucky, really, that the air was as still as it was today, or it would’ve all blown away the moment it left the thurible. A quick, gauzy look at the sky suggested they might be close to noon already; with the approaching mesa being what Twilight guessed as the halfway point (though with how serpentine their route has been she really was only guessing) they should be out by nightfall just as Squirrel had figured. She could always put up some faery lights around them if things got too dark, so she wasn’t too worried about that just yet. 





They’d been pushing brusquely through a section of reeds taller than they were for nearly half and hour when Squirrel suddenly stumbled through a dense patch with a loud ‘aha!’ Rainbow hurried alongside Twilight as they both pushed through the thick stalks after her, only to find their hooves blessedly landing not on mud, but on solid rock instead.

“By Celestia, finally!” Rainbow exclaimed, hopping up and down on the dry, lichen-ridden stone, clumps of mud flaking off her legs with wet splats. 

“I’m inclined to agree,” Twilight said from beside her, her gaze shooting about the area around them. Taking a look herself, Rainbow realized they’d finally gotten to the mesa, standing perhaps some fifty metres tall if she was guessing rightly. Memory told her it was nearly as wide, so it was hardly more than a landmark, but dang if it didn’t feel like something special right now. 

“Alright, rest up a minute,” Squirrel said as she clumsily pulled a canteen out of her panniers before loosening her cowl’s drawstring. “It should be easier from here on out.”

Rainbow copied her motions and took a long pull of her own water. “Really?” she asked after a few moments. “When was the last time you were even through here?”

“Dash!” 

“What? It’s a reasonable question! It’s not like Squirrel lives here or anything – she’s from Blunderbum, isn’t she?”

“’Wanderbelle,’” Squirrel sighed.

“Sure, sure,” Rainbow waved her off. “I just meant, like, the swamp changes, right? Like how you get oxbows and stuff. ” She shrugged, flexing her wings beneath her fly cloth, the feathers straining against the material. “So it could’ve changed since whenever you were here last. Wish I could have a fly around and check.”

“This is the only swamp this nasty between here and Beech,” Squirrel said as she redid her drawstring. “Or between there and Hurricanum for that matter – bugs won’t be any worse than normal for riverways after this.”

“Right,” Twilight nodded along, pleased at the lack of fighting. “This is the hardest part, isn’t it? We’ll be out of this foul swarm before we know it, and you’ll be free to stretch out and scout again.” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Just a few more hours of unpleasantness then – should be easy enough.





“I thought you said this was the easy part!” Rainbow shouted at Squirrel, water lapping at her barrel. They were barely an hour out from the mesa and while this part had for the most part been no worse than the first half, things had taken a frigid turn some minutes back when the path had abruptly ended. 

“Oh, shut up!” Squirrel yelled back to her as she struggled to wade through the lily-field. “And keep your damn hoods out of the water!”

Rainbow was far too busy trying to keep her cool to yell anything back: the combined threat of drowning if her hood got wet, getting stung to death by the countless insects about if she removed it, and the fact that she could not get her wings free despite never having gone in the water without them to keep her afloat was all threatening to overwhelm her. 

They floundered on for several minutes before Squirrel clambered up onto a great, mossy log, the other two in close pursuit. Pausing first to help push Twilight up and out of the water, Rainbow pulled herself on and just about collapsed into a soggy heap; as much as she wanted to ream out Squirrel for getting them lost she was just too cold and tired. 

Squirrel stood up awkwardly on her hinds to peer over the rushes, Twilight right alongside her. “That way,” Squirrel said, pointing at something in the distance. “Path must’ve grown over or something, but I recognize those boulders.”

Twilight grunted, nodding. “Right. Back into the water, then.” She fell back on all fours before swiftly climbing back down the side of the log, a determined set to her withers. Grumbling quietly, Rainbow got up to trail Squirrel as the two of them took to following Twilight for a change. 

It took them nearly half an hour to reach the clump of speckled house-sized boulders, but as they got close, Twilight, still stubbornly in the lead, leapt back with a curse and a splash. “They’re writhing!” she exclaimed, as she backed up until her mosquito-ridden cloak nearly bumped Rainbow in the muzzle. 

Squinting through the ever-denser haze of insects Rainbow could now see that what she at first mistook for splotches of multi-coloured lichen were in fact the bodies of countless thousands of bugs, crawling and hissing on the stone, itself covered in innumerable fleshy little sacks and nests. “Of course it gets worse,” she practically growled. “If these things can eat through clothes I’m going to be so pissed.”

“I... don’t remember this,” Squirrel said, her body shifting uncertainly. “Let’s just carry on – we’re south-southeast from here.”

“Got it,” Rainbow said, taking narry a moment to feel which way that was. “Over here,” she carried on with a bob of her head, just happy to get away from the boulders. They scurried on in a hurry, adjusting their course a touch to find the relatively-solid route their guide knew, and soon left the nests well behind them.

The insects themselves, unfortunately, were not so inclined to let them go.

“We got anymore stuff to burn?” Rainbow asked loudly as she tried to shake the bugs off her cowl – they’d gotten so thick that she was having a hard time seeing anything. 

“Incense?” Squirrel called back over the noisy swarm. “Yeah! I don’t know about getting it out in this mess though – we’ll need to get out of the water first!” 

Considering the water was now splashing against her chest, Rainbow could hardly argue with that. “Alright – hey Sparkle!”

“I heard! Keep us on track – I think I can see something off to the left we can climb onto!”

“Gotcha,” Rainbow said mostly to herself as she kept half a mind on the direction they needed to go in as they veered sharply to the side. She really hoped Twi knew some way to magically dry out her censer – it’d gotten waterlogged some time ago and given how her and Squirrel’s still had thin trails of bug-free smoke coming from their necks, she knew they worked, at least a little.

The swarm was getting progressively worse – worryingly so; Rainbow could feel the weight of them, like little raindrops on her cloth-covered cheeks and muzzle, whenever they landed or flew off. She stumbled slightly, pausing as a moment’s panic filled her when she realized she’d lost the other two in the haze. She hurriedly looked around, knocking down reeds to try and see them. Where the buck is – there! A glimpse of Squirrel’s hoary tail floating like so much dead mold off to the right; she trampled through the mire to catch up, taking care now to keep close to the mare as they trudged on. 

The raised spot they soon found themselves at was little more than a shallow collection of peat and drowned branches, undoubtably fallen from one of the many bare, ash-grey trees rising from the swamp. The trio marched up onto the pile, the rotten wood crushing like wet sponges beneath their hooves, to stand in water only cannon-deep. “Squirrel,” Twilight asked, leaning in close to avoid shouting. “How much do we have left, exactly?”

“Distance or incense?” the mare responded, head lowered thoughtfully. “Because I’d say only a couple more hours to go to get out of here” – fortuitous given it must’ve been mid-afternoon by now at least – “but as for incense?” She shuffled around to find her balance before slapping away irritably at the mat of bugs on her side, flattening dozens of them into a mucky paste. Twilight made a disgusted noise in her throat as her horn lit up a soft magenta beneath her cowl. There was a dull thwumping sound as the hovering insects were batted away from Squirrel’s flank by small, repetitive gusts of air. Once again Squirrel seemed a bit startled by the magic, but with a muttered ‘thanks’ set about rooting about under her cloak. 

“Here we go,” she soon said, pulling out the scuffed tin of incense. “’Bout three-quarters full; main problem’s going to be keeping the stuff from getting wet.” She looked up at Twilight, head cocked. “Any chance you can help with that? You seem like you’re pretty decent at magic.”

Twilight whickered, idly swishing the water with a hoof. “Yeeeah, maybe I can do something, but... no – if we ignite it all at once it’ll just burn itself out fast... shoot.”

Rainbow glanced back and forth between them. “Care to tell me what’s up?”

“The insects really don’t seem to like how close we got to their hives,” Twilight said, looking up and around at the swarm that seemed to be trying its best to bite and sting them to death. “We need to clear them – a big cloud of this stuff should do it if we can get it to linger as we move.”

“Could probably help with that if I could get my wings free,” Rainbow said with a brisk shake of her head and neck to clear the bugs from around her ears. “Bit of a vortex around us should be easy enough, and I can do it from down here too,” she added, mostly for Squirrel’s benefit. 

“Really?” Squirrel let loose a bark of laughter. “You two are easily the strangest pair of tourists I’ve ever travelled with.”

“What did I do?” Twilight asked, sounding vaguely offended.

“Fire, levitation, and wind magic? Those alone beat most unicorns I’ve ever heard of!” Squirrel said, still clearly amused.

“Yes, well... alright,” Twilight admitted – such breadth was uncommon, after all. “Still doesn’t make us ‘strange’ though.”

“Fair, fair,” Squirrel chuckled before clearing her throat. “Alright, let’s see about getting your wings free then, Rainbow. The incense should be able to keep most of the bugs off once you get it going.”

Rainbow flexed her wings a little, rubbing them against the cloth, trying to find a discrete way to get them out just enough to build a vortex around them. “No good way to do this,” she eventually huffed. “I’d have my whole sides showing.”

“If we timed it right it could work?” Twilight mused as she fiddled with the now-open tin. “At the rate this was burning before... we wouldn’t have too much time bug-free, but we only need enough to throw off this swarm before it chokes us.” A fact that was little exaggerated – the insects seem particularly attracted to their breaths, clustering all the more densely around their muzzles. 

Rainbow nickered, shifting her weight between her hooves indecisively despite that she’d already made up her mind. “Right – I’ll do it. Get some of that smoke going around me and I’ll get my wings out.”

Twilight looked like she was going to give her a reassuring nuzzle but thought better of it, giving a pleased bob of her head instead. “Brilliant! You won’t be exposed for that long, Dash, so don’t worry. First thing’s first though – what’s our next direction?”

Squirrel craned her neck up as high as she could, bobbing up and down on her forehooves to try and get some extra height over the rushes. “That way,” she eventually declared, looking what Rainbow figured was directly southeast. 

“Right. Rainbow, you’ll take centre; I’ll lead. Let’s get this cloud ready.” Twilight opened up the tin, levitating out the crumbled incense inside. “From the looks of it I can probably get the smoldering embers of all this spread out in the air all around us – actually, we might be better off if I just keep it as a melon-sized lump above us?” She shot Rainbow a questioning glance.

“Yeah, once I get the wind going I can keep all that smoke right close around us.”

“Well then – here goes nothing.” The loose ball of incense – Rainbow still couldn’t figure out what type it was – flew a few feet above them; a couple of brief flashes within later and bluish smoke started billowing out. 

Rainbow took a deep breath – or the deepest she could, at any rate – whipped her wings down low and out, raising the cloak and exposing a good bit of herself to the swarm. Acting quickly, she concentrated on the feel of the magic in her, so much like cool raindrops running down her coat, and forced it down her wings, channeling it into her feathers and out into the air around her, extending that same ability that let her manipulate the winds into giving her flight into instead twisting the air around them. 

With a twitch of her wings the air behind her shunted backwards, and with a subtle pull it came up and over her back, catching the smoke within its embrace. With a sudden jerk it veered off to the side as the first bite of an insect caused her to flinch, losing control. Not. Happening, she thought to herself with a grimace, steadying her wings and bringing them back into a cupping, paddling motion, circulating the sickly-sweet air into a slow cyclone around them. The cloud was anathema to the swarm, almost immediately repulsing it to its edges, leaving Rainbow with only a hooffull of itching spots to ignore.

“Let’s go,” she said, eyes half-lidded in concentration. 

“Right – follow me. Dash, if you need to go slow, do so; Squirrel, call out if she does.” With that said Twilight started the trio onwards again through the reeds, the tips of Rainbow’s primaries tickling the water’s surface with every pass. 

It was blessedly little time later when the barrel-deep water began to drop, soon leaving them to plod through merely fetlock-deep muck and spongy moss. The bulk of the swarm had since abandoned them, but the group was keen to keep the cloud circulating as long as possible for the relief of it; plus, the scent of it helped distract from the biting cold that was beginning to set in. 

“I hope we don’t get thrush from this,” Twilight muttered in the late-afternoon light.

“We’ll be out soon,” Squirrel assured her. “The mountains are looking about right for it.”

“Can’t hold this much longer, guys,” Rainbow cut in between slow, calm breaths.

Squirrel looked around at the thinned-out cloud that had protected them for so long. “It looks about spent anyways.”

Rainbow waited until Twilight gave a nod of agreement before letting the smoke disperse; she gave a few brisk dry-flaps of her wings to try and relieve them of the strain that the slow movements had caused them before hurriedly tucking them back under the cloth for safety. “Muuuch better,” she sighed, stopping for a second to adjust her cloak. She was frankly relieved she didn’t have to keep that up much longer – she was starting to cramp.

“You still held that far longer than I’d’ve thought,” Squirrel said, sounding impressed. “That was what, twenty minutes?”

“Could’ve gone longer! Like, way longer,” Rainbow insisted good-naturedly. “Twenty-minutes is nothing!”

“Dash’s great at that,” Twilight said, smiling back over her withers.

“Totally,” Rainbow agreed, doing her best to strut through the mire. “Rainbow ‘Super Fine’ Dash they call me!”

“Really,” Squirrel drawled. “And that’d make you Twilight ‘The Wizard’ Sparkle I suppose?”

“Definitely,” Rainbow said before Twilight could speak up. “Purple Smart here is spooky good at magic.”

Squirrel broke into soft, wheezy laughter as Twilight fought to find her voice. “Okay, no! We are not calling me that!” she insisted, bristling with indignity. “’Twilight’ will do nicely!”

“Can do, Twilight,” Squirrel said, her grin evident in her tone. 

“Good! So long as that’s settled then.”





Dusk was just falling when their hooves touched their first bit of dry ground since the mesa hours ago – they’d at last gotten through the swamps. “Freakin’ finally,” Rainbow grunted as she trudged up the shallow stone slope, cloak catching lightly in the yellowed grass peaking through the cracks.

“Let’s get up high first,” Squirrel said from the rear. “Once the bugs’re gone we can set up camp.” Although there was still light enough to carry on for another hour or so, the troupe was far too tired to even consider it.

“Right,” Twilight puffed out between heavy breaths. “We’ll... right,” she finished lamely, choosing to focus instead on putting one hoof in front of the other. 

The ground this side of the Green Leek was, like the rest of Basin, a mix of flat, earthy areas and tall – often sheer – rock hills and outcroppings; it was to the top of one of these that they were heading. A faint breeze blew in from the east, tamping down on the bugs, but bringing with it another problem.

“M-maybe we should stop here?” Twilight asked meekly, shivering, soaked as she was in water and sweat. 

“A bit further,” Squirrel insisted, looking around in the failing light at the few small trees that made up the otherwise barren face. “We’ll want some cover from the wind – a clump of trees, a rockface, anything like that. Any chance you could just take off and fly around for something, Rainbow?”

“Clothes and bags too dang wet and heavy to fly in,” Rainbow grumbled. “Carry ‘em and we’re good.”

Ignoring the commanding tone, Squirrel nodded. “Yep – quickly now though: night’ll be here before we know it.”

Working fast, Rainbow undid her neckstring and hastily shucked the fouled cloak and censer to the ground, stretching her wings in relief at the sudden freedom. She started fiddling with her satchel straps before they lit up magenta – Twilight had come over to lend a hoof. A few moments later saw Rainbow sitting back on her hinds to doff her jacket and scarf. “Finally,” she muttered. “I can breathe!” She almost immediately shivered in the cooling breeze, still just as wet as before but without any clothing to try and block out the wind. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick,” she said, stepping off from the other two. “Stay in the open so I can see you.”

“I’ll put up some lights if needed,” Twilight said as Rainbow nodded and bounded forward a few paces, her wings flaring out and down to get her some lift.

She took off aiming back downslope, towards the wetlands. Angling away, she strove for height as she circled over the two mares below, taking care not to lose them as she worked out which landmarks – which clump of trees or erratics – they were near, and which way they were going; it would be simpler if they just stood still and waited, of course, but they really needed to keep moving to stay warm. 

The chill was biting at these speeds, but she knew from experience that any water would evaporate or blow off fast at this rate; plus, as a pegasus, she was a bit fluffier than most. 

Once she found a good altitude she widened her circle, sharp eyes looking for anything within reach to abut their tents against. Need safe room for a fire, too, she added to herself. Ideally it’d also be near a clean stream – their canteens weren’t looking so full anymore – but there just wasn’t anything like that within reach by nightfall. There! she thought, pleased, as she caught sight of a small alcove, itself tucked within a little copse of trees. Checking beneath her, she was still able to quickly spot out Twilight and Squirrel – dead easy considering the former had, in fact, lit up her horn with some manner of light cantrip – then eyed the alcove again. Once she’d worked out the best route to get there she began her descent, her slow circles belying her eagerness. 

Picking her spot just a few metres behind the two, she flared her wings and, with a mighty thwump, beat down hard to land trotting on all fours. “Found it!” she called out to the two startled, cloak-less mares. “’Bout ten minutes thataway,” she jerked her head off to the left. 

“W-wonderful!” Twilight chattered, smiling despite the cold, as she changed the trio’s direction. “O-once we’re t-there I’ll get a fire going.”

“I’ll get us fuel,” Squirrel added, the stolid earth pony handling the cold quite well. “Easy enough to find dead wood.”

“And I’ll... well I’ll do something too,” Rainbow insisted, not wanting to be left out. “I can do tents!”

“That should be fun to watch,” Squirrel smirked. “That said, I’ll do my own, thank you.”

Rainbow snorted. “As if I’d set up yours for you, miss ‘gets-lost-in-her-own-swamp.’”

“W-what!?” Squirrel spluttered. “How in the world is that my swamp?”

“You blended in well.”

Squirrel didn’t seem to know quite how to respond to that. “I – what? Whatever – but I didn’t get us lost!”

“You totally did. You remember that, right Twi? Twi remembers everything,” she added to Squirrel. “You remember, right?”

“I d-don’t have perfect memory,” Twilight countered over her withers, still shivering lightly. “It’s mnemonics, m-mostly. That said, we did get lost for a bit, yes.”

“Hah! See? Totally got us lost.”

“Fine,” Squirrel deflated. “We did. For a bit. But we got through it anyways, thanks to the ninety-nine percent that I did remember.”

“Riiight,” Rainbow drawled as they crested a small ridge. “Ah! Right – Twi, the campsite thing’s just other there – those trees next to those rocks, see?”

“Umm... yeah, there,” Twilight nodded, angling straight for it. 

“So did you want your gear back?” Squirrel asked as they stepped under the boughs of the dozen or so short, bristly trees that made up the copse. “Or should I just toss it on the ground.”

“Don’t toss it! Place it,” Rainbow snipped as Twilight stopped in a flattish, clear spot next to the stony back of the alcove some metres tall. 

“This’ll do,” Twilight said, working her own gear off. “If we c-can get some wood I’ll get the fire going.”

“Yep,” Squirrel said, shucking Rainbow’s gear unceremoniously into a pile before veering off into the trees. 

Rainbow spared her a frown before picking up the small tent that Twilight had picked up in Cherry Point; it was just a small, cramped, two-pony thing, but it should do the job well enough. “I’ll get this up right quick,” she said, giving Twilight a flank-bump. “It’ll be cozy enough with the fire going outside.”

Twilight hummed distractedly, shoulders hunched as she slumped in on herself against the night air. Rainbow considered ignoring the tent for the moment – there was no way she’d get that up as fast as she’d like – and just tucking Twilight up under a wing for warmth when Squirrel trooped back up to them. “Here,” she said, dropping a pile of sticks and branches as she settled back down on her hinds. “Let’s get this going; I’ll grab some more once it is.”

Twilight gave a shaky nod as her light spell dropped only to be immediately replaced with sparkling flashes, both at her horn and in the midst of the pile. The scent of ozone filled the air as the wood lit, pine-scented smoke curling out of it. Squirrel leaned down, keeping half a wary eye on Twilight’s horn as she blew softly onto the embers. Within moments the fire flared up, bathing them in its warmth. “Alright,” Squirrel sighed wearily, leaning back on her haunches. “I’m going to get more wood for this. Dry your clothes next to the fire and get that tent up as soon as Twilight’s fit.” Without waiting to see if they’d listen, she disappeared again into the gloom. 

“Let’s get that jacket off then, eh Twi?” Rainbow said, helping Twilight out of her heavy, wet coat. Laying their jackets and scarves out on the needle-ridden stone next to the fire, she set about unrolling the tent as her friend scooted closer to the flames. She had the thing half-built when Squirrel came back into the clearing, a piddling little pile in her arms. Dropping them, she walked purposely over to her panniers. “Not enough wood on the ground,” she said, unstrapping a short hatchet as she did. “Don’t like doing this, but we need the heat to dry.”

Rainbow quietly watched her leave – she didn’t like the idea of felling living trees either, but needs must and all that – before busying herself again getting the tent’s rods set just so. 

A faint thocking sound came from the darkness just as she finished up and began setting up their sleeping bags. Twilight, startled, perked up to stare owlishly towards the sound. “It’s just Squirrel,” Rainbow said as she inspected their bags, one hoof deep inside and rooting about. “Good news though – our sleeping bags are dry! So that’s nice.” Perhaps the bags were overkill for the weather, but Twilight had been worried the mountain passes closer to Hurricanum would be too cold and windswept to do otherwise.

“Mmhmm,” Twilight said, settling back down. “M’hungry,” she mumbled, her horn aglow as she pulled one of her panniers towards to her; she tugged out a spare canteen and a couple oatbars and began nibbling on them, while nearby there was the cracking and rustling sound of a small tree coming down.

“Grazing’s going to suck,” Rainbow grumbled as she lay down the two sleeping bags in the tent. “Unless there’s a place between here and Beech, at least.” She plopped down next to Twilight and reached over to start fishing around in her own satchels. While midway through a bar of her own Squirrel trudged slowly back into the firelight, an arm-thick pine being dragged behind her. 

“This’ll do til we dry out,” she said, dropping the tree and hatchet before doffing her own damp clothing and gear. “The night’s warm enough once we’re dry to do without; one of us’ll have to stay up until the fire’s out though.”

“I imagine we’ll all be up til then,” Twilight said as Squirrel took to lopping the branches off the trunk. “Do you want any help with that?”

“Nah,” Squirrel replied without breaking stride. “Done this plenty in the past. You just keep warming up.”

“Better now,” Twilight mumbled from where she still lay, close to the fire. “I guess the water just got to me after a while.”

Squirrel paused in her work for a moment before continuing. “The swamp was... wetter than I remember. There were fairly dry paths woven throughout it the last time I went through.”

“Seasonal, perhaps?”

“Probably.”

They fell back to silence as the night deepened, busying themselves with their meals, such as they were. Having finished her’s, Rainbow set about preening and figuring out if the bug bites she’d gotten earlier had gotten through her fur. No welts, at least, she thought as she went back to aligning her primaries. Happily for them, they’d left all the insects behind.

“We’ll need more water tomorrow,” Twilight said as she stared lazily into the fire. “Canteens are low, and a bath wouldn’t go amiss either.”

“Waterways will clear up not far southwest of us – we’ll get some good water by late morning, I should think,” Squirrel said from off to the side, as she finished setting up her own narrow one-pony tent. 

“We’ve enough til then.” Twilight sat up, rolling her shoulders and neck. “Are the clothes fairly dry? We should get some sleep if we’re to be up early tomorrow.”

Rainbow leaned over to poke at them. “Eh, good enough,” she shrugged – from the feel of it they’d be dry by morning.

“Best douse the flames, then,” Twilight sighed as she stood up fully and cast her gaze around her some dirt to smother it. 

“Just a moment... there!” Squirrel said, standing back with a pleased look at her tent. “Needed to finish up while we had light; douse whenever!” With that said she grabbed her clothes and walked straight into her tent, disappearing behind the flaps; a bit of shuffling and rustling followed, ending with her head poking back out of the opening to watch them, head cocked. “Need to make sure you smother it right,” she said, in answer to their curious looks.

Rainbow rolled her eyes. “As if we could muck it up,” she muttered, turning with their own gear to crawl into their tent. The faint hum of unicorn magic, followed a few seconds later by muffled thumping, heralded the darkness as the fire was extinguished. Still robbed of her night vision she felt, more than saw, Twilight shuffle in beside her and crawl into her own sleeping bag. 

Rainbow figured she’d leave her’s open – with how snug it was with the two of them practically pressed into one another’s sides she had a feeling it would be far too warm not to.

“Wish I had a bath before getting into this,” Twilight grumbled softly beside her, her voice almost in Rainbow’s ear. 

“You sound like Rarity,” Rainbow teased as she wiggled around to try and find a more comfortable position.

“Oh, shush,” Twilight said, doing much the same. “Now go to sleep.”

“Heh. Night Twi.”

“Night Dash.”
> Chapter 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight awoke to the dim predawn light seeping through the canvas. It was quiet – pleasantly so – and she shuffled around to poke her muzzle out the tent flaps to get a better idea of the time.

Or rather, she tried to. Rainbow, as she’d learnt so many weeks back when they’d shared a bunk in Sunrise, waiting for the schooner to take them across the Calise Sea and off to Avalon, was a natural cuddler. Back at Cherry Point’s inn she’d foiled the mare by simply sticking a pillow between for her to latch onto instead, but here? She was effectively trapped, pressed against the little pegasus’s side, arm slung over her chest. 

It wasn’t that it was unpleasant or anything – quite the opposite, come to think about it – she just really wouldn’t mind being able to see whether or not they should be getting up. She made a soft clucking noise whilst gently poking her friend’s side to see if she was awake; unfortunately Rainbow’s only reply was to stretch out more, covering her with a fluffy wing and clamping down all the snugger. 

“Guess I’m getting up later,” Twilight mumbled as she settled in for some more sleep.





“Hey!”

Twilight started in surprise at the shout from right outside the tent. 

“You two sleepyheads up yet?” Squirrel called out to them. 

“Yes, yes,” Twilight called back as she rolled over to crawl on out – luckily the shouting had startled Rainbow enough to let her go. 

Nudging aside the flaps she found Squirrel already disassembling her tent in the bluish morning light. “Close to seven, isn’t it?” she guessed as she awkwardly stepped out onto the bare ground. “We slept in.”

Squirrel grunted. “Needed to. No immediate rush either, although it’s probably best we eat on the move.”

“Yep,” Twilight agreed – the sooner they got to a clear stream, the sooner she’d get her bath. Leaning back into the tent she gave Rainbow another nudge. “Up you get, Dash – we’ve slept long enough.”

“Blppth,” Rainbow mumbled as she tried to curl around somepony that was no longer there.

“Oh no you don’t,” she briskly nudged her again. “Up! There’ll be plenty of time for bed tonight.”

“But sleeeep.”

“Rainbow...”

“Ugh! Fine, fine,” Rainbow grunted, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Gimme a second.”

Twilight hummed, pleased, as she pulled out their panniers, jackets, and scarves. Finding them dry, she nodded in satisfaction as she sat back to pull on her own jacket, its coziness only slightly diminished by its thick mud splatters. She had her scarf on to help against the early-morning chill and was already rolling up her sleeping bag when Rainbow finally came out. 

“Alright,” the pegasus yawned, “let’s get this done, then.”

It was a surprisingly short time later that saw them fully packed up and ready to go. The tent and sleeping bags weren’t as tightly packed and furled as they were when she got them – which annoyed Twilight more than she cared to admit – but she didn’t want to waste any energy magically forcing them into shape.

It was overcast and cool as they struck directly southwest towards the lower Sul as it flowed south out of the wetlands. “Ideally we follow this right down to the Whither,” Squirrel chatted amiably – they’d been lucky to chance upon a wild apple tree and found their moods much buoyed by the unexpected fruit. “That’ll then take us straight down east-ish to Autumn.”

“Is this the same route you took last time?” Twilight asked as she carefully navigated her way down the steep, shrub-strewn slope they were switchbacking on. 

“Nah – I went further east then, along the mountain slopes; was going to meet up with some friends in a little mining town that way.”

“So you don’t know this route at all then?” Rainbow said, shooting her a skeptical look. 

Squirrel gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Don’t get your feathers all in a fluff, Rainbow – I said I’d get you two to Autumn and I meant it.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Oh for goodness sakes, Dash!” Twilight practically shouted, frustrated by Rainbow’s persistent problems with the mare. “Squirrel’s been doing a fine enough job thus far and there’s no reason whatsoever to split up now when we’re going to the same place!”

“That’s – dangit, that’s not what I meant,” Rainbow said, her wings ruffling in irritation. “I just wanna know if we can expect another bug-infested super swamp – that’s all. If Squirrel’s not been this way before then she wouldn’t know one way or the other, right?”

“Oh.” Twilight wasn’t quite certain what to say to that. “Right. Sorry.”

Rainbow sighed, blowing strands of her disheveled mane out of her face. “It’s fiiine, Twi – really. I don’t hate Squirrel or anything – I just don’t like her.”

“Smooth,” said the eponymous mare.

“I mean, she got us lost, what, eight times now? Bought us things without asking – ”

“Which you two needed. And what do you mean, ‘eight times!?’”

“ – almost got us eaten alive by bugs – ”

“Okay, you can’t possibly be blaming that on me.”

“And!” Rainbow said loudly. “And! She’s totally charging us, like, a billion bits for this!”

“What’re bits?” Squirrel asked, not even bothering to argue the fact.

“Currency back home,” Twilight volunteered. “About three drams to the bit. And Squirrel only got us lost the once, Dash.”

“Yeah, well, it was a really big lost.”

Twilight nodded sagely. “Well, when you put it that way, I suppose that sounds reasonable.”

“How’re you taking her side in this!” Squirrel spluttered. “I thought you were the sane one!”

“What, Sparkle here? My best bud Purple Smart? Sane!?”

“I thought we agreed not to call me that...”

“Actually, now that you mention it, she’d have to be mad to be your best friend.”

Twilight smiled, her mind drifting to the thick sheaf of banknotes tucked within a waterproof satchel deep within her panniers. “You know, strictly speaking we haven’t actually paid you yet.”

Squirrel snorted at that. “How the heck did it seem like a good idea to remind me of that?” She laughed at the spooked expression on Twilight’s face. “Haha! Don’t worry about it though – keep holding onto it til Beech – it’s not like I’ve suddenly acquired somewhere safe and dry to stuff ‘em.”

“Right,” Twilight said, pleased that Squirrel hadn’t taken her comment the wrong way. “Because we will be paying you, all jokes aside – you’ve been very helpful so far.”

“I know, I know,” Squirrel flicked her tail at her. “You two hardly come across as the sneaking-thieving type, anyways.”

“I can be sneaky!” Rainbow said, looking offended at the idea that anybody might think otherwise. “Totally ninja-like.”

“Uh huh.”

“I can! You agree with me, right Twi?”

“Uhh...” Twilight hesitated. “You can definitely be, umm... yeah.”

“There, see? Twilight says I’m sneaky!”

“Suuure,” Squirrel drawled. “That’s definitely what she just said.”

“Oh look!” Twilight cut in, eager for a change of subject. “Is that the river?” Below them, just now visible around the trees and rocky slopes, was a dull, choppy little stream, barely as wide as a house, snaking its way southwards.

“Yup,” Squirrel confirmed, relief evident in her voice. “There’s our water; now’s our time to fill canteens and bathe. Since we’ll be following it all the way onwards we won’t have to worry about being parched anymore too.” That latter was particularly welcome considering how low all their water supplies had gotten since Cherry Point.

“Wonderful!” Twilight moaned as she could hardly wait to wash off the mud and sweat of the last day and a half. It was a pity she couldn’t have justified taking along a small brush – her mane and tail were a nightmare of clumped-up, filthy hair that she was really hoping wouldn’t mat. 

“If we’re heading down there right now, then first I’m going for a final fly-around before I’m weighed down by all that water,” Rainbow said, before, with a nod farewell, she bounded forward to take off gliding downhill towards the Sul.

“Heh, I bet you’ve been wishing for some wings all this time, eh?” Squirrel chuffed as she watched Rainbow circle rapidly upwards on some unseen thermal. “Would’ve saved you more than a little fuss.”

“No kidding,” Twilight agreed. “We’d probably be back by now if I did. Mind you, if given the choice between a horn or wings... well, I just don’t know where I’d be without my magic.”

Squirrel nodded in understanding. “I know what you mean – I can hardly imagine not feeling the plants around me – I think it’d be like I was blinded.”

Twilight’s ears perked at that. “I’ve always wondered what that was like! I’ve never found a spell that could emulate earth pony magic in the least to know.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” Squirrel said as they came to an especially steep bit. Carefully sliding down, she stood at the base of the rock to lend Twilight a bracing hoof. “Just scootch down to me – I can catch your weight, no problem.”

Twilight nodded uneasily as she slowly scrabbled down sideways, dust and moss scraping off beneath her hooves. A few uncertain steps later and she was being supported by Squirrel who quickly helped ease her down to flatter ground. 

“There we go,” Squirrel said, falling back to all fours as they carried on towards the river. “So what was I saying? Oh right – since it’s the only way I’ve ever lived I can hardly describe what it feels like. It’s not like you won’t have asked others, either.”

“True,” Twilight conceded. “Still – it’d be fascinating to feel what is was like.”

“I’d imagine being able to levitate things would be too,” Squirrel mused. “I can think of more than a few times that would’ve been helpful.”

“Helpful enough to give up your earth pony qualities?”

“Hah! No.”

They continued quietly save for the sounds of their laboured breaths, while Twilight pondered if there wasn’t some spell that could give unicorn magic to a pony for a time.





The water was cold, brisk, and clear as Twilight trotted through the stone-bottomed shallows. “You think this is potable?” she asked, smiling as she envisioned her long-awaited bath. “I’ve got a collapsible pot if we need to boil it.”

“Should be good here – the river’s always flowing on the west side of the wetlands and doesn’t really mix much, as I understand it.” She gave the water a scrutinizing look. “Or maybe it does? Shoot – I can’t remember; best boil it til we’re further downstream.”

“That’s going to add some time to the trip,” Twilight sighed, stepping back onto the weedy grass. “But better safe than sorry I suppose.” Luckily for them, she’d taken the time back home to refine her fire cantrip for just this purpose. After Squirrel hastily scrounged some wood, Twilight set it alight, letting her magic-born flames mingle with those wrought from tinder and branch. It took some finesse, but she was soon able to blend the two into a small, pseudo-arcane blaze, burning with all the heat of a natural flame, but with the control of a magical one. She leaned in close, ears folded back as she concentrated on keeping the blue-hot flame stable, the water already simmering. “Swap the water out with more from the river,” she began, still staring nigh-unblinking at the flames. “When it’s done – I need to keep focusing.”

Judging by the movement in her peripherals Squirrel was readying to do just that, pulling out their quartet of canteens and lining them up. “There’s no huge rush,” she clarified, “it’s just quite a bit more difficult and draining to get this going than to keep it going, so I don’t want to drop it.”

“What about the feather-head?”

“Dash’ll show up soon,” Twilight replied tersely, ignoring the slight. “Once she sees the fire.”

True to her word, the water was only just roiling when an airy thump heralded Rainbow’s arrival. “Canteens out,” Squirrel said. “We have to boil the water, with us so close to the swamp.”

Rainbow grunted, but complied. In short order, Squirrel, her hooves covered by her jacket, grabbed the pot handles and filled a pair of their canteens. Right after that she hurried to the river, refilled the pot, and got it back on the flames – now edging towards purple – to get boiling. 

Not five minutes later they were done, and, fire tamped, had some time to bathe while they waited for the canteens to cool enough to put back in their packs. 

“Finally!” Twilight sighed as she sat down in the shallows and splashed herself down. 

“No kidding – the smell of salt gets real old, real fast,” Rainbow said as she and Squirrel did much the same. “Only downside is we can’t wash our heads here,” she clucked – it would be rather silly to go through all the fuss of boiling the water just to end up drinking some while washing off the sweat and dirt. 

“It’ll be cleaner downstream,” Squirrel assured her. “Might even be here – just want to play it safe.”

“Meh,” Rainbow shrugged, staring doubtfully down at the clear water. “Does this even come out of the swamps? ‘Cause it sure don’t look like it.”

“The river and its tributaries pass around it, feeding into the lowlands we were in yesterday,” Squirrel elaborated as she walked back to shore, briskly shaking the water off. “So I suppose if the water’s only flowing in – and this is all mountain-born – we’re good.”

“Nevertheless!” Twilight butted in, “I didn’t go to the fuss of boiling all that just to drink from this anyways.” She shook herself down as she headed back to her gear. “So we’re following this due south, then?”

“Mmhmm – as much as we can, at any rate,” Squirrel said as she wrung out her tail. “As long as we keep it in sight, we’re good. The main plan then is to find any ol’ village or town and get ourselves a boat, or a couple of canoes.”

“Which we’ll be paying for, I imagine?” Rainbow said from the little spot in the sun she’d found to laze and dry off in – luckily the spring sky had cleared and warmed a great deal since dawn.

Squirrel snorted, not rising to the bait. “Nah – just take it out of my pay.”

“Done,” Rainbow said primly. 

The three of them idled a little longer, until they’d dried enough to sling their jackets and panniers on their backs without chafing. That done, they carried on, accompanied by the cheerful, burbling sounds of the river.





“I think I see something,” Rainbow said, peering into the distance. They’d been travelling for some hours, sometimes by the riverside, other times detouring off to the side to get by some unpassable clump of thickets and thorns, or some water-abutting cliff, but always while keeping the Sul in sight. Standing now side-by-side on a small rise, they were hoping to spy some sign of civilization that had escaped the map-maker’s notice or care.

As she was finding was often the case around the Basin, that very sign was in the form of terraced paddies or gardens. “You two want me to fly ahead? Won’t take more than half-an-hour, tops.”

“Sounds good to me,” Twilight said, puffing after the climb and already looking for a place to sit and doff her panniers; beside her, Squirrel nodded and moved to do the same.

Rainbow immediately took to removing her own neck and flank satchels – even without the mostly-empty canteens they were still too heavy for her to fly properly – and took off flying. While gaining height she checked for landmarks to find her way back again. Below her were Twilight and Squirrel atop that greeny moss-and-shrub-covered rise they’d spent the last quarter-hour climbing; around them were similar rises surrounded by increasingly-dense clumps of trees – something they’d been seeing steadily more of since that morning. A moment’s flight to the west of them was the river, while not far off to the east was a great mountain range – Squirrel couldn’t remember the name of it, but she did say that there was apparently a giant, underground gnoll city somewhere in there. 

Looking back to the north she could just make out what was probably that backwater Cherry Point, while ahead to the south... yep! Definitely terraces. Double-checking the landmarks beneath her, she gave several powerful pumps of her wings, the ends of her long scarf trailing behind her as she rocketed forwards.

It felt great to take to the air once again – she’d been grounded for far too long for her tastes, ever since the ship went down. Nothing to be done about it, mind – but still. Only a hooffull of clouds dotted the otherwise blue skies as she neared the distant village.

There, the river cut through a long, squat mesa, branching several times between sharp cliffs as it traveled through, with the terraces in question built up on the softer slopes just north of it. Much like Cherry Point, small, grassy-roofed stone-and-wood houses lay around it, trailing along the riverbanks and into the canyon itself.

Maybe they’re built into the rock all underground-like? Rainbow wondered; certainly there were so many splashes of colour within the canyons that she knew something must be in there. 

Much of the unshaped land was covered in thin forest, unsurprising considering that most of the people Rainbow could make out below were deer.

Even as she got nearer she still couldn’t make out any signs of danger about – nodeer looked armed in any way, there weren’t any walls or the like either. Despite that she thought there might be a dock around the western side, and maybe more buildings atop the mesa too, she figured she should just turn back now so the others wouldn’t have to wait any longer than necessary – they could always just check it out together once they got there.

After one last scan she circled back, still reveling in the feel of the wind, of the feel of control – of freedom! that flight always gave her. Smiling wide, she checked the ground below to see what paths they could take to the deer village – a trip of not even an hour by her guess. By the time she neared the rise she’d left the other two on, she’d already spied a couple different routes. 

Bleeding speed, she passed over a few times before landing deftly right next to them. “Looks clear,” she began as she headed straight to her packs. “Little deer village along the river – goes into the rockwalls, too!”

“Should have what we’re looking for, then,” Squirrel said as she stood and stretched, looking eager to carry on.

“Unless they’re too small? I doubt a, umm, place as rural as this even knows how to make boats with any sort of efficiency,” Twilight fretted. “Might not have anything to spare.”

“We’ll have to play that by ear,” Squirrel assured her, looking bemused at the mare’s utter lack of subtlety. “Did you happen to see any good paths, Rainbow?”

“Yeah – a few. Hey! This means I get to lead for once, right?” Rainbow perked up at that – it had been all Squirrel up front at first, until Twilight had gotten fed up in the swamp and taken point – she hadn’t had her own turn in charge yet. “’Cause that’s totally what this means.”

“Lead on, then, Dash,” Twilight smiled good-humouredly. 

“Alriiight,” Rainbow said, taking the nearest path down the rise’s southern face, the others close behind. “I’m the boss now!” After a short distance though she figured there was no point in wasting a perfectly good downhill and so, flaring her wings and giving them the slightest of pumps, she took off for an easy glide.

“You know it’s not really leading if you’re just flying above us!” Twilight called out to her.

“I’m just gliding here!” Rainbow shouted as she switch-backed in front of them. “And I’m technically in front of you, aren’t I? So kuee-ee-dee I’m leading!”

“That’s not what – that’s not how you use Q.E.D.!” Twilight shouted back, exasperated. “Just don’t get too far ahead! The trees are too thick for us to see where we’re going down there.” Although the tree cover they were heading into was hardly what Rainbow would call a ‘forest,’ she supposed she had a point. 

“It’ll be fiiine – I’ll land at the bottom with ya.”

“You better,” Twilight grumbled as Rainbow took this opportunity to coast further away from the slope while she waited for them to descend the slow way by hoof. 





The three of them reached the first of the many riverside outbuildings not long afterwards; it was more of a shed, really, sitting at the base of one of the many terraces. Although they’d surely been seen by any of the several deer tending to the crops, none had seemed bothered to do anything about them. “Too busy tending their... bushes?” Twilight wondered, her hooves shifting on the loose, pebbly riverbank beneath her. “Tea, I’d imagine, given the region.”

“Sounds about right,” Squirrel agreed. “I wouldn’t’ve expected any real reaction anyways – there should be enough boat traffic down the Sul that passersby are hardly noteworthy.” By now the river had widened and deepened, stretching perhaps a dozen metres across on average as various tributaries had merged into it. Although they hadn’t seen a single ship all day, if Twilight’s memory of the maps was correct, Squirrel was probably right. “Bit odd though – deer herds don’t normally settle down enough to bother putting up terraces or anything like that.”

The village – or perhaps it was a town? Twilight couldn’t quite remember when the one became the other – was larger than she’d thought, given the dozens of deer (and scattering of ponies) she’d seen so far working the crops or quietly fishing along the far bank. She’d tentatively given these ones a wave, but they seemed more perplexed than communicative, waving back before whispering to one another. Maybe they’ve never seen a unicorn before? “I’ve never understood why they still do that – migrate, I mean.”

“It seems fine by me?” Squirrel said, a questioning lilt to her voice.

“But with the agricultural advancements that even Avalon has surely seen this last century make seasonal migrations a waste of time! They could build something far more... grand than this” – she jerked her head at nearing cluster of buildings ahead, all small, grassy, rustic affairs – “if they gave up the practice.”

“And I suppose they could ask the earth ponies to help with their crops more, then, too?” Squirrel said, still with that odd tone.

“Exactly! Deer magic isn’t bad with plants by any measure, but you know as well as I do it’s far more animal-centric. Ponies are much better at agriculture.”

“Naturally,” Squirrel said, giving a satisfied bob of her head. “I understand you completely.”

They continued unaccosted until they reached a slow, wide bulge in the river. Here, a wooden pier jutted out a short ways, at the end of which a pair of bucks appeared to be fishing. The smaller of the two was bedecked in numerous colourful bead necklaces and bangles; his antlers too were decorated, their bases wrapped in thin gold chains. Teardrop-shaped earrings swayed in their hoops as he turned to peer at them. 

His partner – large, with a rich, dark brown coat – was far less decorated, favouring only simple bangles and a voluminous scarf that trailed back over his withers. “Hello there!” he boomed at the three of them. “We don’t often get visitors on hoof – did you flounder or something?”

“After a fashion we did, in fact,” Squirrel said before Twilight could speak up. “Or these two did at least. We’re looking to buy a canoe or two  to get us down to Beech – anyone we can talk to about that?” The ponies’ hooves clunked on the wooden pier as they tiredly climbed onto it. 

“Hmm...” he dithered, glancing at his smaller companion. “Maybe. Boatwright’s at the southern part of the town – follow the river and you’ll find them.”

“That’s not exactly a ‘yes,’” Twilight spoke up, fearing her worries were true.

“Don’t think I’ve heard that accent before,” the big buck said, head cocked. “We’re not exactly a major harbour here – there might be something Channel’s willing to sell – but maybe not.” He shrugged, rubbing a hoof distractedly at the base of his antlers. “In the worse case you could probably stay around here until an open barge comes through, then hitch a ride downriver with them – won’t be long before another one passes through, I suspect.”

Squirrel flicked Twilight with her tail. “Thanks – we’ll ask around,” Squirrel said, raising her muzzle high in the air in a sort of inverse-nod. The two deer did much the same before staring at them owlishly as the trio carried on down the riverbank.

“What was that about?” Twilight asked as soon as they were out of easy earshot. 

“The flick? That was to keep you from antagonizing them. Again. Obviously.” Squirrel looked to be restraining a roll of her eyes with great effort.

“I wasn’t going to antagonize them!” Twilight grumbled. “I just don’t want these people trying to pull a fast one on us.” They’d have a heck of a hard time bailing out if things got questionable within the river canyon itself.

“Uh huh. So I imagine that means these people are ‘rural hicks’ and not ‘charmingly quaint?’”

“And what’s that supposed to mean!?” Twilight huffed at the sheer indignity of it. “Are you calling me a tribalist?”

“I’m called you an Equusian,” Squirrel retorted, shaking her mane in irritation. “So kind of you to humble Avalon with your presence, by the way.”

“Stuff it, Squirrel!” Rainbow snarled.

“I’ve got nothing against deer, or any other kin for that matter! And just because Equus is considerably further along in its development doesn’t mean I think Avalon is backwards, Squirrel,” Twilight reasoned, wondering where in the world the mare was coming from with this. “Why, the art alone we’ve seen in Hurricanum has been fantastic!”

Squirrel snorted, but left it at that as she pulled ahead a few lengths, walking with her shoulders hunched and tail low. 

“What the hay was that about?” Rainbow muttered to Twilight, taking the words right out of her mouth. “This some weird custom thingy? I kinda slept through the meetings about those.”

“I don’t” – she paused a moment, parsing through what she’d just heard – “no, I don’t think so.”

As they neared the mesa the river sharply branched, with one, wide path curving west to run along the cliff face, whereas the smaller, noisier path they were following cut right through. Signs hung above a large, stout wooden gate, thrown open to the world. Whereas at any other time Twilight would’ve been keen to look around, now she was far too lost in thought. 

They passed through the gates and into the canyon in sullen silence, the cliffs either side of them enveloping them deeply in shade as they passed beneath banner-laden ropes strung across the entrance. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, but when they did she found that Dash had been right – there were buildings built into the rock. 

Running down the canyon’s centre was the river, perhaps a dozen metres at its widest here; a bank about half that in width ran on either side, all cobbles and stones. Raised on either side were walkways, onto which opened homes, shops, storehouses – Twilight could only guess what, really. These were all faced with stone and wood, but were clearly dug some ways into the cliffs. A trio of giggling fawns ran past them and out into the sun, as a doe’s voice yelled at them to behave from the walkways above.

“Well, this is quaint,” Twilight said, cheering up at the ambiance of it all before realizing what she’d just said. “I mean – oh buck,” she cursed, trying not to catch Squirrel’s eye. “Still! It’s colourful at least, right Dash?” Smooth Sparkle – real smooth.

“Yeah,” Rainbow agreed, her gaze darting between the vividly-painted signs and banners. “Glad I didn’t try to fly into this though,” she added, looking up at the irregularly-strewn wires all about the place. “What’s up with all those?”

“Singers,” Squirrel said over her withers. “You’d hear ‘em if the river wasn’t so chattery.”

“Singers? What in the world would they need mana-cables here for?” Twilight paused before hurriedly continuing. “And it’s a legitimate question! I normally only see these things around the bigger workshops.”

Squirrel shrugged. “Don’t know – ask around if you get the chance.”

Twilight harumphed at the dismissal before turning her attention back to their surroundings. They were entering a large circular cutout, in the centre of which the river pooled before branching down a triplet of different, narrower canyons. The area seemed to act as an agora of sorts, with what were undoubtably several shops and markets bordering the walls. “It’s surprisingly busy here,” she noted as she glanced over what must’ve been a couple dozen deer and ponies moving about. 

“Trade,” Squirrel answered, slowing down to once again walk alongside them as they crossed one of the several littles arch-bridges that spanned the riverways. “I suspect that bigger branch at the entrance carries the barges around – probably to a proper dock – and the crew would hoof-it around in here once they did.”

“This place must be a lot bigger than I thought it was, then.”

“Likewise,” Squirrel admitted. “Never actually been in here before.”

“For that matter, this place wasn’t on any of the maps I got – what’s it even called?”

“Must be some crummy maps then,” Squirrel snorted. “It’s Nestle.”

It was about now that Twilight realized they’d managed to misplace Rainbow. “Oh for goodness – where’s she gotten to?” Twilight reared up on her hinds and did a quick pirouette, quickly spotting her friend’s rainbow mane a little ways behind them. Worried, she stalked back to find Rainbow staring hungrily at a row of sizzling kebobs being worked on by an amused-looking doe. 

“Twi!” Rainbow called out once she’d noticed her. “Food!”

“That is indeed food – well done Dash,” Twilight snipped, still a bit on edge. “Don’t go wandering off like that! We’re strangers here and it’s not like you can just fly around to find Squirrel and I if we get separated.”

“But, but food!” Rainbow whined as she tried to tear her gaze away from the veggie-sticks. “I don’t even recognize like, a third of the vegetables on that! And if the food’s good, then today can’t be all bad, right?”

Twilight sighed, but she couldn’t really argue – food was one of Rainbow’s major motivations for... most trips, really. “Fine – but if we get sick, it’s on you!” She rooted around her panniers for some notes while Rainbow eagerly selected their fare. After a moment’s hesitation she decided to get something for Squirrel as well.

Before long the three of them were munching away at their surprisingly-tasty snacks as they continued down the snaking waterways. At some point the buildings here had become multi-layered, with stairways leading up to a second, or even a third level; rope bridges crossed between scaffold walkways well above them as the general hustle-and-bustle of the place grew. 

“Okay, I’ll admit it – this place is much bigger than I thought it was,” Squirrel said as they wove through the crowded walk. 

“Maybe there’s a main entrance somewhere? And we just took the quieter side one?”

“It’ll be the docks – there’s not much in the way of river-level supply stops in the Basin. This place must’ve grown a lot since Callow came through here.”

“Callow?”

Squirrel shook her head. “Old friend that told me about this route, ages back. If this place is as big as it looks, we should probably ask for directions soon.”

“Laaame,” Rainbow said as she blithely chewed on her wooden skewer. “That buck said downriver, right? And we’re going downriver, aren’t we?”

“How far across was the mesa, anyways, Dash?”

“Few hundred metres I think – it’s thinner in some bits, but it’s more like a mini-mountain on the east side.”

Twilight nodded thoughtfully. “Should be out of it soon enough; we can ask for help if we’re still not by then.”

As luck would have it, it was only around the next bend that they found their exit, the daylight blazing in from without. Passing into the afternoon sunlight, they found themselves in a great beach-fronted alcove of sorts, at least a hundred metres across at its widest; numerous warehouses and workshops were set against every face. The smaller riverstream they’d followed out continued on down a worked-stone channel before merging again with the main body as it flowed eastwards far in front of them. Judging by the general noise coming from the western extreme, Twilight figured the docks were likely just around the corner. 

“Ya know, I can’t exactly imagine them not having boats for us here,” Rainbow said as the three of them stood and looked around for some sign of a boatwright. “’Cause this place looks nearly as big as Sweet Apples.”

“Sweet Apples?” Squirrel asked. “And we’re looking for canoes, not barge repairs.”

Twilight hummed thoughtfully. “I suppose you might be right – let’s ask around.” She led the way towards a nearby arch-bridge that crossed the stream – there was a pony and deer in local beadery leaning on it that didn’t seem too busy to answer a question. “Oh! And that’s where we’re from.”

“Sounds nice,” Squirrel mumbled before speaking up. “You two’re from an orchard town?” she asked, giving them an appraising look. 

“Not originally,” Twilight shrugged. “But it’s nice – it’s peaceful there.”

“I’d imagine; don’t think I could handle that myself, mind – it’s not home if I can’t hear the thump and grind of docks and forges.”

“That’s right! Wanderbelle’s a mining city, isn’t it?”

“Yep!” Squirrel chirped, her tail twitching. “Only city in the northern passes, so it’s got a little bit of everything! Can’t wait to get back.”

Rainbow chuffed and giggled. “Shoot – hey Twi! Look! I think Squirrel’s actually happy about something for once!”

Twilight looked back over her withers just in time to see Squirrel shoot Rainbow a red-cheeked glare before settling into a pout. “Oh look,” Squirrel said, “people to ask for directions.” She darted ahead to grab the bridge-pair’s attention.

“Maybe she’s homesick?” Twilight wondered as the two of them sat back and watched the mare converse. “We are keeping her from getting back with this.”

“We’re hardly holding her hostage, Twi,” Rainbow insisted, head tilted as she studied the mare. “Plus, the fees! Oof.”

Twilight cocked a brow, a faint smile adorning her lips. “Wow – did you just say ‘oof’? Aloud?”

“What? No.”

“Uh huh.”

“Hey – Squirrel’s coming back! And she’s got a partner too!”

Squirrel had indeed returned, a lithe, pale-furred doe in tow. “Back!” she said, pointedly not looking at Rainbow. “Serenade here has offered – well, insisted – on guiding us.”

“Hello,” the doe said in a quiet, little voice. “So it’s canoes for the three of you then?”

“That seems to be the plan,” Twilight answered with a glance at Squirrel – the transport was kind of in her hooves, she figured. 

“If we’ve any to sell, they’ll all be at Channel’s,” she said gently, nodding her head towards the eastern portion of the alcove. “His workshop’s this way.”

The three ponies followed close behind Serenade, near enough to hear the quiet jostling of her bangles and beads as she walked. Some sort of local custom? Twilight thought as they crossed the trodden-down green. Nodeer back home was so reliably done up; plus, several of the ponies around here are too.

“We don’t normally have people looking for canoes or the like around here,” Serenade started saying, her head half-turned to watch them. “It’s mostly ship repairs. With a little luck Channel will have something big enough built up or dug out that he’s willing to spare.”

Not the most fortifying of words. 

“I could always fly?” Rainbow offered. “If a two-pony canoe can take my satchels that could work.”

“You sure you can keep aloft all day?” Squirrel asked, doubt clear in her voice. “Even with periodic rests we’ll be covering a lot of distance on the river.”

Rainbow gave a humourless snort. “Don’t worry – I can keep pace, easy.”

“I don’t doubt she can,” Twilight added before Squirrel could say anything more. “Dash is an exemplary flyer.”

Rainbow puffed up her chest, smiling smugly. 

“I suppose that simplifies that, then,” Squirrel hedged as she changed the subject. “Hey Serenade – what’s with all this bustle? It can’t be this mad all the time.”

“Part of the herd is going south on kinsday,” she answered, an amused twinkle in her eye. “Where did you three come from not to know that?”

“Cherry Point,” Squirrel answered easily. “On hoof. I didn’t think anydeer in Nestle still migrated.”

“Most don’t,” Serenade admitted. “But some do. There’s good land south of here, across the Whither; it’s not far. It’s only because of this that Channel might have a spare canoe at all, as we won’t need replacements for a few months afterwards.” She came to a stop in front of a large, open workshop at the extreme edge of the clearing. The unfinished ribs of some larger ship sat in its braces in the shop’s centre. The air was laden with the scent of wood chippings and pine. Out of one of the bay doors wooden beams and slats led down a pebbly beach and into the river. “Channel should be around somewhere – please wait here while I look.” Without waiting for a reply, Serenade took off, quickly disappearing into the back. 

Twilight found a pile of cut lumber to sit down on while they waited. “I suppose he might be out and about – looks like the rest of the workers are,” she gestured towards the empty workshop.

“Geez, I hope not,” Rainbow said, plopping herself down next to her with a relieved sigh. “Would suck to be stuck walking all the way to Beech.”

“Might be able to barter passage with one of the trade barges,” Squirrel said, rearing up on her hinds to lean lazily against the weathered shop wall. “If one’s going east, that is.”

“Well, as you said,” Twilight began, pausing to take a swig of water. “Let’s just play this one by ear.”





Rainbow wasn’t half bored by the time Serenade came back. Frankly, she was rather hoping they couldn’t get a canoe big enough for three – she was already finding herself looking forward to spending the next few days flying near and around the other two, and not just to prove Squirrel wrong. 

Although I guess I could do that even with a three-pony canoe...

“Apologies for the delay,” the doe said with a dip of her head. “But you’re in luck! Come – Channel’s in the back.”

They followed Serenade into the workshop proper, hooves kicking up little whorls of sawdust as they went. Weaving around benches piled with tools and half-finished fittings, they passed into a rear supply room; here, amidst stacks of fresh-cut lumber and cluttered shelves they found an older buck sitting cozily in a sunlit corner, pouring himself a cup of steaming tea. “Channel,” the doe said, muzzle briefly raised. 

“Thank you, Serenade,” he answered, blowing gently on his tea before taking a tentative sip. “You three are looking for a canoe, then?” he asked, shifting in his seat to better face them. 

“Three-person, ideally,” Squirrel said, taking point. “Although we can likely make do with something else if needed.”

“Well, you came at the right moment.” He leaned far back in his chair, his antlers tapping softly against the rear wall. “I’ve a spare one ready, and what with the migration already well prepared we won’t be needing it anytime soon. Lucky for you you had Serenade here – technically I’m closed right now for the festival.”

“Ah – thank you, then, the both of you,” Squirrel said as Twilight echoed her; Rainbow just settled for a nod.

“Well now that the pleasantries are out of the way, let me show you what I’ve got,” he said, lurching off his seat with a clatter of hooves before sidling past them towards the door they’d come in through. “Right this way.”

The trio followed as the old buck continued chatting, but Rainbow tuned him out in favour of wondering just how many more drams this was going to set Twilight and her back. 





“And you’re sure he didn’t just rip us off?” Rainbow pestered Squirrel yet again. They’d settled on a price for the boat – a pine canoe just a squeak over three metres long – after a little bit of haggling, but Rainbow couldn’t shake the feeling they’d been taken advantage of.

“For the last time Rainbow, no, I’m not – but I am certain that if he did, it wasn’t by a huge amount.”

“Easy for you to say,” Rainbow grumbled, kicking a stray stone at the riverside.

“Settle down girls,” Twilight chided them with a much put-upon air. “What’s done is done. We were never going to get out of this cheaply, Dash” – she shot a disapproving glance at Squirrel – “but priority’s on us getting out, period, drams be danged.”

“I guess,” Rainbow sulked. Despite having paid for the canoe with their rapidly-diminishing bank of probably-technically-stolen banknotes, they decided against picking it up until the morning – that way they’d have the full day to travel and find a solid place to put down for the night; plus, now they could use the remainder of the afternoon and evening to restock on food, as well as follow up on some advice they’d gotten about a better route through the passes.

Their loose plan now was to tent outside the town – away from the noise – and be ready for an early start. “Let’s get going then,” Squirrel said, ceasing her pacing. “If we’re still sleeping under the stars we’ll want all this well done by nightfall.”

“Right,” Twilight agreed. “If you’d like to purchase what we’ll need in food, that’ll leave Dash and I to ask after those route suggestions.”

Squirrel nodded – since the changes were for after Beech, they weren’t really any of her business anyways. “Sounds good.”

The three of them crossed the green, reentering the crevice before splitting up at the first fork – Squirrel to go back to the agora, and the other two to follow what directions Serenade and Channel had given them. “We’re looking for a junk shop, right?” Rainbow double-checked.

“Curios, but yes.”

The whole thing sounded a touch odd to Rainbow – why would a shopkeep know more about course-plotting than Twilight? But they had the time, and Twilight seemed interested so... here they were.

The little passage they were in – well divorced of the stream now – was visibly cut from the stone itself, its walls gouged smooth from whatever tools or magics were used; singers ran the length of the ceiling, while brilliant faery shards hung at rough intervals, bathing the hall in warm light. Side passages came and went, noise echoing out of all of them, but this one seemed more like a steadily-ascending backalley than anything else.

“Definitely bigger than I thought...” she murmured over the dull, echoey sound of hooves as they slowly gained height.

“Wealthier too,” Twilight chipped in as she reared up for a moment to squint at one of the shards. “To’ve had these side tunnels cut, that is. Lights are a bit cheap though – I can practically see the weave.” 

Rainbow nodded, peering up at a shard herself. “Oh yeah. Definitely. I totally saw a loose thread dangling from one back there too.”

Twilight gave her a strange look. “I’ll never understand how someone so very competent with her own magic can be so ignorant of even the fundamentals of academia.”

“Natural talent.”

“Of course – how could I forget.”

Rainbow was saved a response when the two of them reached the end of the side passage and stepped out from underground, entering a bowl-like sunlit depression. Cottages, half-buried in the earth, were scattered hither and thither. “Looks about right,” Rainbow said, recalling what she could of their directions. “It’s ‘go straight and look for the sign’ now, right?”

“Mmhmm.” She and Rainbow carried on down a surprisingly soft dirt path, their hooves welcoming the reprieve from the hard stone. They’d been told the shop was really just somepony’s home’s main floor, so they weren’t even amongst the other shops, but rather out here, in a little clump of topside homes. 

“This is nice,” Twilight smiled calmly at her surroundings. “Cozy.”

“Oh yeah – super quaint.”

“Oh don’t you start now too!” Twilight chuffed. “I can’t believe the nerve of that mare – accusing us of tribalism!”

“Just you, actually,” Rainbow grinned widely at her. “I’m totally clean on this.”

“She clearly meant – I mean – dangit, I’m not a tribalist!”

Rainbow gave her a companionable flank-bump. “I’m teasing! Squirrel’s just crazy.”

“Exactly! I can hardly help drawing comparisons to the way things are back home, and it’s not my fault that unlike here, we have a functioning continent-wide government and not this polis nonsense, superior airship design, a far better zephyric network” –

“No loose threads on our weaves.”

“That too! Wait, no – that’s not a thing, stop confusing me.” Twilight shook her head in frustration as she petered out. “The point is, these are all objective things, and being objective in saying that set ‘A’ is greater than set ‘B’ is fine. Completely fine.”

“Yeah! Although I do, uhh, think the whole ‘cities are their own countries’ thing is kinda neat,” Rainbow admitted. “Would make it waaay easier to manage the weather if I didn’t have to care about junk like ‘regional schedules,’ and ‘not flooding the neighbours.’ Plus we could actually start with that whole ‘fixing the Everfree’ thingy you guys wanted to try!”

“Well... alright, there is that,” Twilight agreed. “But I’m sure the regulatory forms will be back from Canterlot by the time we get home! They might even be approved,” she added with a grumble.

“The food’s not bad here either...”

“Okay, there’s that too,” Twilight said, thinking back to those veggie-sticks, as well as all the much-finer cuisine they’d had back in Hurricanum. 

Refocusing on the present she took notice of what building they were about to walk past. “Oh! I think this is it.” They were standing outside a squat, two-story home that backed into the loam at the depression’s edge. Various knick-knacksand metal trinkets could be seen through the big window next to the door, lying on green-velvet-covered shelves and tables. Hanging above the door was a wooden sign, creaking faintly in the breeze.

“‘Waffles’ Relics’?” Rainbow cocked her head. “What kinda name is ‘Waffles’?”

“Possibly noone’s; now let’s go ask this friend of Channel’s for help.” After briefly discussing their intent to get back to Hurricanum – they needed to be certain the canoe was sufficient, and if it wasn’t, at what point would it fail them – the buck had suggested they’d likely have a smoother trip if they portaged across several tributaries after Beech, rather than risk getting swamped on some of the rougher parts of the South Whither and Coriander rivers. Apparently the mare here was well-traveled in those parts and could advise them best.

The door opened with a tinkle as a chime above it sang out. There was a soft thump somewhere in the shop. “Just a moment!” a voice yelled out to them. 

“We can wait!” Twilight called back politely before she started poking her muzzle around the place. So far as Rainbow could tell there wasn’t really anything of interest here – sure, there were lots of neat looking things of crystal and brass, odd glowing whatsits, and far too many books for her tastes, but they all seemed like whatchamacallits? Mathoms. Come to think of it, the shelves looked pretty bare too.

So she waited as patiently as she could, taking care not to touch anything too delicate in case it broke, until a mare clomped heavily into the room. Turning, Rainbow saw that unlike most of the people here the mouse dun mare was dressed practically normal – just some tall boots, a vibrant green scarf, and a thin jacket over her heavily-muscled frame. “Howdy! You two don’t look like locals,” she said with far too much cheer. “Which means you’re practically guar-an-teed to find something wonderful to bring home with you here!”

“Riiight,” Rainbow drawled, put off by the mare’s enthusiasm. “A little help here, Twilight?”

“Hello there,” Twilight stepped up to bail her out. “We were told by the boatwright Channel that we could get some plotting advice by the mare that runs this shop, miss...?”

“Waffles!” the mare smiled widely with a toss of her peacoat mane. “And you got that right! I’m always bouncing twixt here and Riven, so I know those waterways like the back of my own hooves!”

“Riiight,” Twilight couldn’t help but drawl as well, shooting her friend a bemused glance. Shifting around, she made to open up her panniers. “So would it be alright if I took out my maps? Any help at all would be appreciated.”

“No trouble at all – just bring them to the counter,” Waffles said, blithely jerking her head towards the back. “And don’t worry about buying anything in return – I’m happy to help.”

Rainbow breathed a quiet sigh of relief – she was worried there for a moment that they’d be not-so-subtly told to do just that if they wanted the info. “Umm, neat shop you have here,” she said as she followed, hoping to be polite.

“Nah – you’re just saying that,” Waffles said with an amused flick of her tail. “Practically out of anything to sell at all, to say nothing of anything good.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to say anything...”

The mare snorted. “Can’t compete with what the barges can bring in just in passing; think I’m just going to close up soon and head back home.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Twilight said, unfurling her maps on the clear countertop. “Is all this traffic new? It seems odd Nestle wasn’t on any of my maps considering its size.”

“Fairly so,” Waffles nodded, smoothing down the canvas and giving it a close look. “Last few years, really. Maps don’t update often, and seeing as this was just a cute little tea-and-orchard village before that, it’s little wonder it’s not on any of these.”

Rainbow reared up, setting a hoof on the counter to look over the mare’s withers. The map is question had the entirety of the Basin of Fangs on it, as well as everything as far east as Weld and Riven, and south right down to Chestnut lake; she was fairly certain she could make out where Nestle would be, but she’d always been far more inclined to finding her way via landmarks – not maps. 

The Whither ran from here almost directly southeast, flowing past Autumn Beech before branching; one fork carried on eastwards, but more importantly the other flowed back southwest into Chestnut lake, where Hurricanum lay at its mouth. A series of tributaries ran due east between the arms of the Seven Mines mountain range; according to Waffles, these arms were riddled with old tunnels and mine shafts. “Ideally, you two could just portage the streams as needed and pass through the mines,” she said, gesturing with a pencil held in booted hoof. “It’s slower than taking the river, sure, but way safer – a little canoe like yours has a good chance of flipping over on the Coriander with how nasty those rapids can be.”

“I fail to see how walking through abandoned mines is any safer,” Twilight said doubtfully, grabbing a fine pen to begin marking down the different route.

“Nah – the old miners wanted to move supplies through them too, ya see, so a lot of the little rivers cut through the same stone that the main tunnels do,” Waffles waved away her concerns, still wearing that pleasant smile. “You’d barely have any portaging to do, really – just let the current take you.”

“Uh huh. And have you actually run this path before?”

“Yep! Just the once though, and not alone either. It was a bit spooky, sure, but it got us down to Chestnut quick, and most people have to walk the hundred-and-whatever miles between ports if they don’t want to take the really long way around instead.” 

“I suppose...” Twilight nibbled her pen uncertainly, clearly put off by the risk. “Dash?”

“Can’t do the river rapids,” Rainbow said pragmatically. “And walking the whole way would suck. Doesn’t look like we could bail on this halfway through though. Do people use this mine-path often?” she asked Waffles, giving her a pointed look.

“Reasonably, yes,” Waffles said, fiddling with her scarf while avoiding Rainbow’s gaze. “I think. The more experienced ones take it, at least.”

“Squirrel seems pretty capable,” Twilight muttered before giving the counter a sharp rap. “We’ll have to take it up with her – see what she thinks. Any other advice about the area, Waffles?”

“When in doubt: follow the river. Ground’s a bit soft and reedy in some areas, but the grazing’s good and the water’s clear, so worse case scenario this route merely takes longer than anticipated.” She shrugged. “It’s why people started taking it at all despite how far it is from any towns or roads.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad then. Thank you, Waffles.”

“No problem! Good luck on your adventure.”

“‘Adventure,’ right,” Twilight snorted as she packed up her things, the map newly inked with the paths they’d have to take, more notes on landmarks besides written in her notebook. 

“Feel free to hang around town this evening,” Waffles continued, walking them to the door. “Things are always festive for a few days before part of the herd goes on migration.”

“Perhaps,” Twilight hedged before they made their goodbyes, the door closing with a soft whump behind them. 

“So what do you think?” Rainbow asked, rolling her wings as she enjoyed the warmth of the late afternoon sunlight.

“The rapids sound worrying, but I can hardly imagine anything good coming from abandoned mines.”

“She said other people use it?”

“I know... just worried – I was hoping something good would come up before we got to that point.”

“Still could – Beech is sure to have something or other, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” Twilight said, her voice echoing as they stepped back into the cool little passageway. “We’ll run this by Squirrel tonight anyways.”

“Yup.”





“Mines, eh?” Squirrel sat back on her haunches, back braced against the carved stone wall as she unfolded the map. They’d met up back at the agora within the hour, now much quieter given the time. People were still moving about, and the air held a certain sense of cheer and anticipation to it, but the noise of the day-market had faded. 

“She said they were fairly well-traveled,” Twilight said, poking through the supplies Squirrel had picked up, checking that everything was there. 

Squirrel hummed thoughtfully. “I know of this path,” she eventually said. “It’s what I would’ve taken you two on if I was heading down to Hurricanum myself. I’m not so certain you two could manage it on your own though.”

“And here I thought you were warming up to us.” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “We can do this just fine.”

“And if you can’t?” Squirrel asked pointedly before folding up the map and hoofing it back to Twilight.

“We graze.”

“Lost in a mine, deep underground? In the endless dark?”

“Well what do you suggest then!?” Rainbow snapped at her, wings flaring. “Walking would take weeks!”

“But you’d still get there,” Squirrel insisted, glaring. 

“Ahem,” Twilight cleared her throat, drawing the two mares’ attention to her. “Waffles told us this route was fairly straightforward – just follow the river and we’ll be fine. I can make light spells or even set a weave in a pinch.”

Squirrel deflated a bit. “And I suppose you hardly want to spend any more time out here in the sticks than possible, eh?”

“Yes.”

“Yep.”

“Weeell... you could probably manage it then,” Squirrel admitted. “If you’re cautious about it.”

Twilight nodded, smiling at Squirrel’s – albeit reluctant – approval of their plan. “With how much time this saves us there’s no reason not to be slow if needed.”

“If that’s settled then” – Squirrel shoved herself off the wall and back onto her hooves, jerking her head at the items on the floor. “I got what we needed here; food, mostly, although I got a rough smallscale map of the area – it has Nestle on it, and as you seem to collect the things I figured you’d want it.”

“Thanks,” Twilight said, unfolding a thick sheet of waxed parchment she’d glossed over at first, finding on it a charcoal map of the grounds and hills around them. Although it wouldn’t help their navigation any, she nonetheless appreciated what it would add to her journal. “Now let’s go find a good place to set up our tents for the night,” she said, packing away the new supplies in her and Rainbow’s satchels. “Noone will mind if we’re outside the town when we do.”





It was dusk by the time they’d finished setting up in a small copse not five minutes walk from town – close enough that the occasional shout of cheer could be heard echoing their way. 

“Wonder what the food’s like...” Rainbow stared dreamily towards Nestle. “Festival food is always good.”

“You already had some local fare earlier, Dash. We should get some sleep.”

“Well yeah, but this could be the last time before Hurricanum!” Rainbow said, prancing eagerly in place. “Or, like, ever! Squirrel totally said we’re gonna die in the mines, right?”

“I didn’t say that...”

“And if we’re gonna die,” she continued, “then do you really want your last thought to be not eating whatever’s down there?”

“I suspect her last thought will actually something to the tune of ‘curse you Rainbow, you’ve doomed us all.’”

“And!” Rainbow plowed on relentlessly. “And, and, and! It’s local fare! We’re diplomats, right? Kinda? So we’ve got, like, a duty to eat the stuff!”

“We really do need to get up early tomorrow,” Twilight hemmed, but Rainbow could tell she was about to break.

“Please?” she tried. “Super please?”

“Oh fine,” Twilight huffed, grabbing her coat. “Let’s go then. But! Only for a couple hours – we’re getting up at the crack of dawn!”

“Alriiight!”
> Chapter 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Upon reentering the river-crevice, they found themselves alone. “I guess they’re all at the festival,” Squirrel said, smiling pleasantly in the warm shard-light. One of the few things she really enjoyed about her travelling vacations were little spots of culture and occasion like this; admittedly, there didn’t seem like there was going to be anything grand about this – just a few evenings of farewell and good luck for the herd – but still. “Follow the sounds of cheer, then?”

“As good a plan as any,” Twilight nodded, leading the way down the walk. She’d been doing that ever since the swamp; it was kind of annoying to have a client – or whatever the two of them were – bump her off like that. 

Oh well.

“Now remember – we’re just here for a bit,” Twilight reminded them. “My hooves are sore enough as it is, no nevermind all the added weight from shopping.”

“You could’ve left your gear back at the tent,” Squirrel said, feeling somewhat frustrated with the two ponies’ persistent paranoia. “Hidden it in a bush, like I did.”

“No chance of it getting stolen if it’s on me, and I don’t trust every good spot around here not to already be known about.”

“You could still get mugged and lose it that way.”

“Yeees,” Twilight drawled impatiently. “But at least then I’d feel like I’d’ve had some control over the situation. Now shush! The more we talk about it the more tired I feel.”

“Speak for yourself,” Rainbow said as she bounded past, wings out and gliding with each jump. 

“Anyways,” Twilight rolled her eyes. “Let’s just get these snacks. If they even exist.”

“And chat up some of the locals too,” Squirrel hastily added. “See what things are like compared to Equus.” She knew she was being really unsubtle right now, but she’d found she’d taken a liking to the two. Somehow. “For that matter, are there any distinct differences? Besides the ‘princesses’ thing, I mean. And the tech. I know we had a landbridge once, at least.”

“Oh yes!” Twilight said, her tail swishing excitedly. “Scuffle! I hear it looks lovely, but just imagine it! A determined person could, with the right season and weather, practically walk across the Calise!”

“It’s only a few metres deep in most places, isn’t it?” Squirrel tried to remember what she could of the sunken Scuffle landbridge; she’d had friends that’d entertained the idea of crossing, their gear towed behind on a raft, but it never seemed particularly appealing to her – given the advent of long-distance airships, it seemed more a fete than anything else. 

“Yep! The waters are supposed to be warm and clear and just filled with relics and tokens of expeditions centuries past!”

Squirrel tried to dredge up what she could of her friend’s plans. “Only warm when the sea flows more north than south; can’t remember what season it reverses in.”

“Spring, I think? That wasn’t really the focus of my studies. Where were we though? Right! The locals.” 

They’d entered the agora by this point, Twilight presumably figuring they’d do best to retread familiar paths rather than wander back routes to find the noise. “Sounds like it’s coming from the green.”

“Then let’s hurry, slowpokes!” Rainbow called, bouncing back and forth across the little streams. “This way!” She bounded forwards, looking back over her withers to check if the other two were following. 

“We’re coming, geez,” Twilight called back, picking up her pace. They’d chased her rainbow tail out of the agora and were well on the way to the green before Twilight spoke up again. “So: locals! There’s a herd not far from Sweet Apple Orchards, actually.”

“Really? Are they migratory?” Squirrel asked, curious. “I can’t think of any other race that so reliably is – I’ve always thought it unique.” Or mostly so at least – there were a lot of varied, semi-nomadic groups on the east coast.

Twilight shot her a surprised look. “Are there no buffalo on Avalon?”

“Bison? Nooot to my knowledge.” Squirrel had read about the cloven-hoofed race before, of course, but had never even heard of any on the continent, no nevermind met them.

“Really! Fascinating,” Twilight said, a genuine perk to her ears. “The buffalo tribes back home migrate almost continuously along an admittedly quite-complex route. I don’t believe any of our traditional deer herds do anything of the like, or at least not anymore.”

“I can’t imagine too many of them living in the towns like ponies. That never seems to be the case around here, at any rate.”

“Mmhmm! The demographics I’ve seen have most of them in smaller forest villages here and there – the ones near home are well up in White Tail, for example, bar the few in town.”

Squirrel nodded, pleased that at least some things were held in common between the continents – just as ponies spooked easily and gryphons were physical, deer didn’t much care for the hustle and bustle of cities. “I suppose it’s quiet enough topside here, once you get away from the docks.”

“Yep! Now let’s see what this thing is all about.”





The greens looked much the same as they did scant hours ago, but down by the riverside several bonfires were blazing, their light flickering as the crowds occasionally passed in front. A pair of long tables had been setup, but Twilight couldn’t make out what was on them from this distance. All in all it looked rather comfortable, much like the festival nights back home, only here there couldn’t’ve been more than a hundred present all told. “Well, this is cozy,” she said before giving Squirrel a preemptive swat with her tail. “And don’t say it.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Squirrel snorted. “If we get split up, we can just meet back up at the tents whenever, eh?”

“Sounds good.” Twilight slowed down, letting the other two overtake her as she took the chance to veer off to the right, intent on checking out the docks first. There wasn’t actually much to do here – it wasn’t their going-away festival, after all – but she was still curious about the size of this place, and hadn’t had a chance to check it out earlier. 

She was still curious about the mana-cables, too.

The wooden slats creaked beneath her as she stepped up onto the dimly-lit scaffolding built out upon the scree. She could make out water flowing languidly through the gaps, while a few passageways were bored into the face beside her.

The docks were pretty simple: just a triplet of piers jutting out into a widened section of the Sul. She could make out the silhouettes of people working on a pair of long, low barges that were moored here, resting like two great whales amongst a school of smaller canoes and cats. 

Wandering out onto the nearest pier, Twilight stared up at the stars, or what few were bright enough to be seen this early. Almost the same as home, she mused, taking note of a few familiar constellations. Just... off to the side a bit. She’d always been fond of stargazing, and found it one of the scant few benefits of their grounding. Admittedly, being only a couple thousand kilometres from home meant there wasn’t too much difference in the night sky, but she enjoyed it nevertheless.

So distracted was she that she almost blundered straight into someone laying on the dock edge. “Shoot!” she exclaimed, hopping quickly to the side. “I’m sorry – I didn’t see you there!”

“No kidding,” the short figure said, craning her neck to look up at her. “One of these yours? ‘Cause if you’re drunk and trying to get aboard I hardly need you stumbling into the river and drowning instead.”

“What? No!” Twilight insisted, blushing as she realized she probably seemed just that. “I just wanted to check out the docks while I was in town and got distracted by the stars.”

“Ah, of course,” the doe said, an amused smirk on her face. “Stargazing. Definitely.”

Twilight sighed, intending to just turn around and forget about this when the doe stopped her. 

“Oh I’m just teasing,” she said, tapping the boards next to her. “Sit! Where’re you from?”

It’s dark, I’m a visitor, and a strange doe wants to chat above inky waters. “Just passing through with a couple friends,” Twilight said as she remained standing. “We thought we’d check out the festival before we did, though. That’s where they are now; probably looking for me too.”

The doe’s smirk didn’t falter. “Smooth. Real subtle-like – I definitely won’t bite you now. And it’s not a festival – more of a goodbye with a few dinners.”

“Uh huh,” Twilight demurred, wondering if she was maybe jumping to conclusions here. “Well, I suppose that fits the air more. Are you heading out with them?” she asked, hoping to cover her awkwardness.

“Me? Nah,” the doe shook her head, the beads tinkling gently on her snub antlers. “I’ve been on them before, but the town’s homely enough for me these days. Besides, I like working the orchard.”

“Really! I’ve found the tea in these parts quite pleasant,” Twilight said, thinking back on the several different brews she’d tried back in Hurricanum. “Do you grow them or....?”

“Tending and harvesting, mostly,” the doe said, looking off in the vague direction of the tea terraces. “I like the scent, and it gives me plenty of time to chat with friends or just enjoy the quiet.”

“It sounds nice when you put it like that,” Twilight said, sitting down on her haunches. “Oh! While I have your ear, I do have to ask – what’s with all the resonance cables strung throughout the tunnels?”

“Those?” The doe shuffled around a bit to better look at Twilight. “We have some narrow tunnels that the water rushes through quick-fast. A couple of little dams and we can skim just enough mana for the ships to have a charge.”

“I guess it’s obvious when you put it like that,” Twilight admitted sheepishly – she really should’ve thought of that herself. “I can’t imagine you can generate all that much though.” Water-based siphoning, however common the method, was notorious for how little mana one could gain from it.

“These ships don’t have much citrine to worry about,” the doe shrugged. “But really now – where are you from? You clearly didn’t take a ship here.”

“Hurricanum,” Twilight hedged – it was technically true, after all. “But our airship floundered some ways north of here; hence we’re hoofing it back. Or ‘canoeing it,’ as of tomorrow.”

“Found a boat here, eh? Lucky – I know Channel doesn’t normally have much to spare.”

“We were fortunate, yes,” Twilight agreed. “You know, it was lucky we even found this place at all – Nestle wasn’t on any of the maps I’d gotten.”

“Meh,” the doe shrugged again. “We weren’t worth mapping not long ago. One of the rivers went oxbow a year or so back, so now the cross-basin trade ships pass by us on the way east, and not... wherever they did before.”

“Not particularly interested in trade then?” Twilight wondered, as it seemed strange for the doe to not even know what stops the town were replacing.

“I like tea.”

“So we’ve established.”

The doe chuffed. “Tea, friends, good food – it’s not like I need anything else, so why stress? The ships went somewhere before, and now they come here until a river goes all wonky again. Simple.”

“I don’t think I could manage like that,” Twilight said, kneading the ground contemplatively. Just making do with work and friends? Sure, the latter were great and all, but she didn’t doubt ennui would wreck her given enough time. 

“Not the first to say that, but hey, whatever works for you, eh?”

“Mmhmm,” Twilight hummed, turning to stare out at the gently flowing river. With the sounds of the not-festival drifting around the bend, accompanied by the dull knocking of boats against the pier, she found the whole thing rather... peaceful.





While Twilight was splitting off for the docks, Rainbow was instead making straight for the nearest of the loaded tables – she was here for the food, after all, and with a little luck nodeer would notice her having a nibble. 

Squirrel tailed close behind. “Going to eat yourself sick?”

“Cuts down on food tomorrow,” Rainbow said, distracted by the pleasing aromas wafting over to them. “Plus we totally have, like, a diplomatic duty to eat stuff here.”

“Good ol’ cultural exchange, eh?” Squirrel said, her eyes boring into the back of Rainbow’s head. “Is that why you’re here?”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Rainbow stopped dead, glaring back over her withers. 

“Well, you hardly seem like a diplomat,” Squirrel persisted. “Twilight, sure, but you? I’m not trying to ruffle your feathers or anything – I’m just curious.”

Rainbow whickered, taking a deep breath before responding. “Sure. ‘Cause I sound too dumb for diplomatic stuff, right?”

Squirrel’s ears folded back uncertainly. “I didn’t say that.”

“Then what did you say?”

Squirrel took a half-step back. “It’s only that you’re very, uhh, ‘casual’? So it seemed odd that you’d be part of a stuffy equusian embassy – that’s all.”

Rainbow nearly laughed even as she puffed herself up – not because of what Squirrel had said, but simply because she’d never expected her to be so flustered. “Riiight,” she said, calming back down. “‘Casual.’ I’m here for Twilight.” Mostly true, but she didn’t really feel like getting into the Elements and how that’d pulled her into boring politics.

“As a bodyguard or a... you know?”

“Geez, knock the blush off your face!” Rainbow smiled and laughed aloud at how abashed Squirrel was being. “As friends, if you know what those are. I’ll keep her safe too, sure, but she needed someone to tag along with her that wasn’t just there ‘cause it’s their job, and I had some vacation time saved up, so... here I am!

“Oh, and I wanted to try out the food, too.”

“Food and friends, gotcha,” Squirrel said, not entirely meeting Rainbow’s eyes. “So you two aren’t...?”

Rainbow swatted her with her tail. “Wow, one-track mind, much? If you’re done with your fantasies let’s go get some food.”

“I was just curious!” Squirrel insisted, walking alongside Rainbow as they continued onwards. 

“Yuh huh.”

“It was a reasonable conclusion!”

“Yuh huuuh.”

Squirrel could only sigh.





Despite Rainbow’s best efforts, Squirrel wasn’t keen on letting her long out of sight. “I’m not leaving you alone here, Rainbow.”

“Five minutes? Can’t you just give me five minutes?” Rainbow whined, pausing in her attempt to stuff an entire wrap into her mouth.

“And have you get into some bizarre argument ending in a hooffight!? Not a chance,” Squirrel insisted – there was just no way this mare wouldn’t find some way to stir up trouble. “And chew your food! I don’t need Twilight setting me on fire because you choked to death.”

“It would serve you right,” Rainbow grumbled, slowing down to chew. “Besides, it not my fault if some people need a good bonkin’ from time to time.”

“How in the world the two of you even made it this far I’ll never know,” Squirrel groaned, massaging her temples. 

“How could we not? We’ve got me!”

“Oh yes, how silly of me to forget.” Squirrel shook her head, staring off into the dark. “Can you see Twilight at all? If we’re heading back we might as well go as a group.”

“Haven’t seen her yet.” Rainbow leapt straight up with a pump of her wings, getting just enough height to pirouette a few metres above Squirrel’s head before coming back down. “Nah – no lavender. Still at the docks maybe?”

“Maybe. We should probably find her.”

“Geez, now who’s the paranoid one?” Rainbow said as she nevertheless lead the way. 

“I hardly need her getting spooked and setting someone else on fire, either.” 

“I guess it is dark out there,” Rainbow agreed. 

The pebbles slid and crunched underhoof as they passed out of the firelights. They’d snuck a bit of food, but otherwise hadn’t much felt like mingling – they didn’t know anyone here, after all. “So,” Squirrel said after a time. “What do you do, anyways?”

“Didn’t we just talk about that?”

“No, no – I mean, you said you’ve got vacation time saved up, right?”

“Are you... surprised I have a job?” Rainbow asked, bemused. “‘Cause like, wow, I’ve got a job, ya know.”

“Oh for goodness sakes – I know that!” Squirrel scoffed. “I mean, what do you do? Postal service? Courier? Mail?”

“Aren’t those literally the same things?”

“Are they? I hadn’t noticed.”

“I’m a weatherpony,” Rainbow said, lightly jabbing Squirrel with a wing. “Sweet Apples is an orchard-town, remember? Gotta keep it rainy when the trees need it, and not when they don’t.”

“Kind of – not enough pegasi around these parts for a dedicated weather service; not anywhere I’ve been, at least. Does it really help all that much?” Squirrel was curious here – plants seemed to do alright to her reckoning with natural weather, but she was also quite well aware that nobody really tried to force plants to grow where they couldn’t do well on their own, either.

“Yep! I don’t really know myself, I guess – I’ve only ever been there as a weatherpony, ya know? But all the old farmers say their stuff grows way better since Sweet Apples got its own weather team.” She paused to race up the flight of steps leading up to the dock’s walkway, great, hollow thunks resounding with each bound. “Right!” she continued, impatiently waiting for Squirrel to plod up after her. “So... weather! What about you? Got a job?”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“Being a mean hobo doesn’t count.”

“I’m not a hobo,” Squirrel rolled her eyes. “I’m a cook.”

“... a hobo-cook?”

“Dangit Rainbow – I’m trying to be friendly here!”

“... hobo-friendly?”

Rainbow squealed in laughter as she darted forward, dodging Squirrel’s half-hearted swipe. “Just a normal cook, Rainbow!”

“Wow, cranky Squirrel’s a cook? For some reason I thought you’d be something different.”

Squirrel caught back up to walk alongside her. “I can do other stuff,” she said, feeling suddenly defensive. “My skills just don’t travel well – so when I moved to Wanderbelle for a bit, the only job I could get was in cooking. I like it, anyways – it does travel well.”

“I guess they’re always hiring cooks somewhere, huh? And I can totally do more stuff than weather, too,” she added, a touch defensive herself. “I’m just... not, right now.”

“Fair enough; I mean, you’re technically a bodyguard right now.”

“Exactly!”

“Just like I’m a chartered guide, I suppose.”

“Sure – a lousy one,” Rainbow snorted, darting ahead again to keep out of reach. 

“You two’d still be stuck in Cherry if it wasn’t for me,” Squirrel said, catching up to Rainbow, stopped as she was at one of the jetties. “Or blundered off in to the swamps and died.”

“Meh – we’d have worked something out,” Rainbow shrugged, jerking a wing down the pier. “Found her.”

Squinting, Squirrel could just make out Twilight’s coat and jacket in the dim moonlight, seated down amiably next to somebody. “She found someone to chat to, it seems.”

“Not my fault noone here has anything interesting to say.”

“How would you even know? I’ve been with you this whole time and you haven’t said a thing to anybody here.”

“Well there’s your answer, isn’t it?” Rainbow said, clopping heavily towards Twilight. “You scared them all off.”

Squirrel hesitated. “I don’t frown that much.”

“You totally do. You glare, too. Hey Twi!” Twilight had been watching them as they approached, only now giving them a nod. 

“Dash, Squirrel,” she smiled at them. “It’s getting late, isn’t it?” She stood, stretching catlike before giving the doe a friendly nod. “Thanks for the chat, Crennel. Good luck!”

The doe waved her off with an amused look. “Yeah, yeah – off you go, Twilight.”

Twilight joined the other two as they made their way back up the pier. At least the evening wasn’t a total waste, Squirrel mused as they took what looked like a shortcut, heading into one of the tunnels. Hopefully meeting a few friendly locals would help Twilight relax more – she was far too quick to think the worst of things. “Have fun?” she asked after a bit.

“Mmhmm!” Twilight said, looking immensely pleased with the evening. “We chatted a bit and stargazed some – they have different constellations here! I mean, the stars are the same, but the symbology! The mythology! I’ll definitely have to find a book on the subject once we get back.”

“Ah, good,” Squirrel said approvingly. “I’m no good with stars myself – if you don’t count a few for navigation – but it’s nice someone was a little outgoing tonight.”

“I’m outgoing!” Rainbow said, indignant. “I just didn’t wanna talk about boats and tea and stuff!”

“Well, look at Twilight – I bet she didn’t expect a stargazing discussion this eve.”

“Not in the least,” Twilight chimed in.

“See? For all you know there could’ve been someone here that liked talking about, I don’t know, cow-tipping or napping or something.”

“Yes, because those are my hobbies,” Rainbow drawled. “I hardly saw you trying to strike anything up! Heck, there’re probably, like, a dozen people here who get lost in swamps for funsies – you could’ve shared tips.”

“It was one time! You’d still be in there without me – don’t deny it.”

“I’d’ve flown out.”

Squirrel gave a theatrical gasp. “And left poor Twilight behind? Scoundrel!”

“As if! I’d’ve carried her! Somehow. We’d’ve made it work!”

The stream burbled merrily beside them as they turned into the main tunnelway, Nestle’s main river-entrance not far ahead. “You seem chattier than usual,” Twilight opined, interrupting the two’s banter. “It’s nice, I mean – just surprising.”

Squirrel’s shoulders hunched uncomfortably before she straightened back up. “I suppose I was mostly irritated with you two at first – a pair of dumb tourists in over their heads, you know? But you did alright in the swamps.” She shot Rainbow a smirk. “That’s ‘you’ singular, not plural, by the way.”

Rainbow swatted her with her tail.

“Anyways! You did well enough in the swamp, Twilight, sooo yeah.”

“Smooth.”

Squirrel settled for giving Rainbow a sharp poke.

“Well, I for one think it’s nice you’re opening up a little,” Twilight said, resolutely ignoring the two mares’ attempts to jab one another. “It’s quite mature.”

“Thank you, Twilight. I’ll see you safe to Beech yet – ow!”

“Ha! I win!”

“For goodness sake’s, Dash – do you have to prod everybody you meet?”

“...no?”

Twilight couldn’t seem to think of anything to say to that, and it wasn’t until they’d left the caverns that she spoke up again. “This was nice.”

Squirrel nodded contentedly. “Not quite as... festive as I’d hoped, but yeah, it wasn’t a bad evening.”

“Food was alright,” Rainbow shrugged. “I think it was a potluck though, and those are always kinda iffy.”

“I, umm, actually forgot to eat,” Twilight said sheepishly, mussing her mane. “Good thing we’ve got plenty for the trip.” 

“Eating right before bed? Tut, tut.” Rainbow teased her. “And we’ve got to get up so early, too.”

“I’ll sleep just fine, Dash.”

They were well approaching their tents, set up in a little copse; Squirrel veered off to retrieve her hidden packs from the dense bushes she’d tucked them in. 

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief when she found them still there – despite what she’d said earlier, there was a chance they’d go missing, and she’d’ve been more than a little upset if they were. Hatchet, compass, flint... yup, all here. 

She rejoined the other two good-naturedly bickering with one another, but chose to ignore them, instead crawling right into her tent, dropping her panniers next to her, and going to sleep.
> Chapter 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You can barely even see it from this angle, can you?” Twilight rested on her haunches, staring north, back towards Nestle. Although she knew where it was – the rivers betrayed as much – she couldn’t make out more than a few buildings and terraces from here.

“Well, it is underground. Mostly.” Rainbow said, likewise resting. They’d picked up the canoe in the morning with little fuss, and were originally intending to simply set it in the river and be on their way; Channel, though, had recommended a short portage to a much nicer starting point that should shave off some time. 

Unfortunately, they hadn’t anticipated just how ruddy awkward portaging was going to be – with their backs so cluttered with jackets and panniers, they were forced to carry the thing overhead whilst on their hinds. It was doable, certainly, but quite fatiguing.

The path had taken them over a small rise, giving them their last look back; it also gave them a good look forwards, too.

From here, the three of them could make out the steep embankments and cliff faces ahead, beginning almost immediately where the Sul merged with its tributaries to flow eastwards as the Whither. Luckily – at least in so far as Twilight was concerned – the pillar-cliffs so common to the Basin’s topography continued on for just a little ways yet. 

“They’re just so pretty!” Twilight gushed, as they prepared to move on.

Rainbow shrugged, hoisting her own end of the canoe up with a grunt. “Cliffs are cliffs.”

“You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy the change of scenery from back home,” Twilight insisted. “We have so little karst like this in Equus.”

“They’re rocks.”

“You don’t like them even a little?”

“Meh.”

“And you’re not just being difficult?”

“Mmmmeh!”

“You know,” Squirrel interrupted the budding bickering. “There’s more of that kind of thing south of here, or even far to the east – Riven and Tipple and all that.”

“Really! But, shoot – no time to see it.”

“No kidding,” Rainbow grumbled, her head occluded by the boat. “We’re heading straight home once we get back. Now! Are you gonna pick up your end, or...?”

Twilight jolted, hurrying towards the middle of the canoe to stand between the other two. “Oh! Right – sorry.” She reared up, settling the gunwales as best she could on her shoulders. “We’re good!”

“Off we go then,” Squirrel said, her voice echoing dully back from the front; they’d quickly found it easiest to orient themselves by height, tallest at the front, to better balance the burden. 

Almost immediately they were far too busy concentrating on where to place their next step to carry on talking. Occasionally one of them would trip, or would lose their balance, falling forwards safely on all fours before rearing back up to continue their journey.

Twilight puffed tiredly; while she could manage the weight of her gear and canoe – if only just – her posture was just killing her. It was none too soon when Squirrel, after hefting the canoe above her head once again to check on their progress, finally gave them the good news.

“We’re here!” Squirrel huffed out. “Let’s get this set down – don’t drop it!” she added, as the grass and soil beneath Twilight’s hooves shifted abruptly to mud and pebbles. Lowering the boat down gently, Twilight got her first good look at where they were. 

Or, at least, she got a good look at the far bank, seeing as the one they were on consisted wholly of sight-blocking trees, left and right. Across the river – swollen now to some dozen metres wide or more, its current noticeably flowing leftwards, to the east – were yet more densely-set trees, climbing back up the cliff slope behind. Gone were the limnic pillars – facing them now was nothing than unforgiving granite, stretching unbroken down the riverway and out of sight.

“It’ll be a canyon, for a bit,” Squirrel said, having noticed her gaze. “Steep-sided, I think. Haven’t been down it myself, but I’ve never heard anything bad about its waters.”

“‘No rapids’ is good,” Twilight said perfunctorily, as they’d already covered this briefly with Channel. He’d hedged a little about the details, but seemed confident they could take the canoe down – apparently it was uncommon for anybody to try, though seeing as most would use the barges this made sense. 

“Might take us a couple days,” Squirrel added, shooting Rainbow a look. “And you’re sure you can fly all day? Because if some of these sections are too gnarled or steep for us get ashore, you won’t be able to get aboard if you’re tired.”

“I’ll be fine, mom,” Rainbow snipped, flexing her wings wide. “And I’m definitely flying for the first bit.”

“Just signal if you want us to pull ashore,” Twilight said as she loaded her gear into the canoe, sitting now as it was at the water’s edge. “Hoof me your satchels, please.”

Squirrel joined her, stowing their gear more or less evenly across the boat. With little ado, she started pushing the boat into the water. “Let’s get in – quick,” she said, hopping in herself. 

The canoe rocked disconcertedly beneath her as Twilight clambered onboard, quickly making to plant her rump on the thwart nearest the bow. They coasted a few metres out, leaving Rainbow to stare owlishly at them from the shore. “Geez!” she called out to them. “Not even a little warning? What if I’d changed my mind!”

“Too late!” Squirrel shot back at her, as the canoe turned to face downstream. “Now get flying! If you end up with a cramp or something we’re still close enough to notice!”

“Flying doesn’t work that way!” Rainbow shot back as, with a few quick paces, leapt into the air to glide low over the water, catching up with them in barely a moment. “I mean, the wings are important and all,” she said, zooming past. “But they’re not really the thing, ya know?”

“Not really,” Squirrel muttered as Rainbow angled up, gaining height. 

“Wings are more for steering and expression,” Twilight said, beaming brightly as she lounged at the bow, staring down through the water at the rocks and fish below. “But the flight itself is ultimately wrought from one’s own innate magic.”

“You and your fancy words,” Squirrel rolled her eyes, smiling.

“Merely precise,” Twilight said, still immensely pleased that they were finally at the part of the journey that didn’t involve grotesque amounts of walking. 

They let the canoe bob languidly downstream, not even bothering to pick up the oars and get to work and instead simply enjoying themselves. Looking up, they could make out Rainbow slowly circling high above. 

Alas, it couldn’t last forever. “Well, let’s get going then,” Squirrel said with a heavy sigh. She grabbed the oars, hoofing one over to Twilight, and began slowly rowing. “I never did ask,” she said after a minute. “How accustomed are you to this?”

“Hmm?” Twilight looked up back over her withers, distracted as she was with the scenery. “This? As in, rowing?”

“Yeah.”

Although the motion wasn’t quite like anything she did on a regular basis, it hardly seemed difficult. “I’m new, but I doubt we really need to pace ourselves much.”

“Good, good.

“...

“So! Do you normally camp much?”

“Not really.”

“Swim?”

Twilight gave her a funny look. “Are you... is this you trying to make small talk?”

“I, uhh,” Squirrel hemmed with a guilty look. “Maybe? It’s just that I chatted plenty with Rainbow yesterday – did wonders to confirm just how annoying she is.”

Twilight giggled, but couldn’t really defend her best friend in this.

“So I figured I might as well try it with you,” Squirrel continued.

“Weeell I like books!” Twilight started, figuring she might as well play along. “Or rather, I like knowledge! And books contain that, after all.”

“I’ve gotten that impression, yes.”

“But I suppose you were asking about swimming, weren’t you?” Twilight said, dutifully trying not to get too offtrack. “I enjoy it well enough – used to vacation with the family to a lake not too far from home.”

Squirrel’s brows shot up. “You have foals!?”

“What? No!” Twilight snorted, nearly dropping her oar. “‘Family’ as in ‘parents and brother.’ I’m way too young to think about kids.”

“Oh, uhh, right! That does make more sense,” Squirrel said, looking anywhere but at Twilight. 

“I should think so!” 

By this point they’d traveled a good ways downriver; Twilight was glad she’d kept her jacket on – however warm it may’ve been in the sun, it was jolly chilly down here; given how steep the cliffs were, this place probably saw no more than an hour or two of sunlight a day. Dense trees lined the banks, evidently able to grow comfortably enough within the shade. 

Rainbow had long since disappeared from sight, but this was of little worry – it wasn’t as though she could fail to find them. Squirrel’s attempt at small talk petered out too; Twilight was little surprised – forced chatter didn’t seem her style. 

The river wound steadily onwards, joining with other tributaries flowing out of little side gullies and cracks. The morning passed, and the shadows lessened. 

Twilight and Squirrel were just rooting through their gear for some lunch when Rainbow reappeared, angling low to swoop once overhead; banking sharply, she came back around to a rough hover. “Hey!” she shouted breathlessly down to them. “Pull over! We gotta talk!”

“Alright!” Twilight shouted back to her, hastily dropping her pannier to look around for anything resembling an approachable beach.

“Over there,” Squirrel said, catching her attention and pointing to a small, shaded alcove they could tuck themselves into. After several metres of rowing the water had become shallow enough for Twilight to simply stick her oar on the pebbly bottom and drag the canoe closer. They soon hit land with a soft bump moments before Rainbow glided to a landing beside them, cobbles crunching as she slid. 

“Much better,” Rainbow said, still sounding a little winded. “Needed to talk to you two before you got much further.”

“Tired?” Squirrel asked, eying the beads of drying sweat adorning the pegasus. “You’ve been flying all morning.”

“Well you’d be tired too if you just scouted everything for I-don’t-know how many miles!” Rainbow said snappishly. “Look, I can’t even see the river up ahead – the trees are all overhanging it like mad. No way around it, either.”

“Then you’re with us from now on,” Twilight nodded. “Too much of a risk otherwise. Did that section look okay otherwise?”

“Dunno – it all just looks like trees from above,” Rainbow shrugged. “Flew low over a bunch of it though; not nearly as many birds fluttering around as I’d’ve expected, but maybe that’s just normal here?” She shrugged again, aiming a look at Squirrel. 

“Well don’t at me! I walked around all this the last time I was here, remember?”

“Mares and gentlecolts: our guide,” Rainbow snarked, hopping onto the canoe before Squirrel could respond, the boat rocking violently beneath them.

“I – hold on,” Squirrel muttered, fighting a moment for balance. “I’ll still get you two through this – just because I don’t know about your mysterious bird-lacking doesn’t mean my bushcraft isn’t leagues beyond your own.”

“If you two are going to fight, then at least do it while we’re moving,” Twilight interrupted, straining against her grounded oar as she sought to push them back out. 

“We’re not fighting!” Rainbow insisted as she scrounged around for her own. “Besides – I totally won.”

“Gods, you’re annoying. Remember how I said she was annoying, Twilight? She’s really annoying.”

“Oh shush, Squirrel,” Twilight said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “Now let’s get rowing.”





It was startling just how sharp the transition had been. They’d been floating on, enjoying the barest hint of the noon-day sun shining down on them, when the trees either side suddenly started changing from the mostly-straight sprawl of evergreens and cottonwoods to ever-thickening clusters of short, willow-like trees, their upper boughs spreading wide and weaving together like a light-blotting mesh above. 

“Aaand it’s night now,” Rainbow said, only partially joking. 

“As long as the water keeps flowing, we’ll be fine,” Twilight assured her, staring up into the dense canopy. “The barges do this trip regularly enough, after all.”

“That they do,” Squirrel affirmed, still quietly rowing from the stern. The river here was as much as twenty metres across, and probably a few metres deep to boot – they weren’t likely to flounder anytime soon.

“So,” Twilight said in the dimming light. “Any guess how long it’ll take for us to get out, Dash?”

“Yeah – dozen miles or so,” Rainbow said, her wings fluttering faintly as she scowled into the woods. “Was a little hard to tell, but I’m sure I saw glints about that far along.”

“Well, it won’t take us long at all, then.”





Although it felt like hours had passed, Rainbow was pretty certain it’d only been one – tops. The scarce light that filtered through had settled into an evening-like gloam, but the air was still fresh and clear, and the water flowed steady, if too slow for her tastes. 

She was starting to feel antsy too, having done little more than continuously sitting and rowing – the sheer lack of movement was irking her. “How are we not out yet!?” she burst out into the silence.

Twilight jumped in her seat. “Geez! Don’t scare me like that, Dash,” she scolded her, scrambling to retrieve her oar from the hull. 

“It’s just so dumb!” Rainbow continued griping, her wings stretching and folding reflexively. “I should’ve just stayed flying!”

Squirrel, for once, stayed quiet.

“It’s better that you’re here with us,” Twilight said in a calming voice. “We should stick together in this.”

“I know, I know,” Rainbow grumbled – it wasn’t like she needed to be told that, though it was obvious why Twilight was saying it anyways. “Just... yeah, I know.”

“We should be out soon enough – with the way the river’s narrowed, we’ve definitely picked up speed.” She was right about that – the Wither was not a dozen metres wide here, little whitecaps foaming at shallow spots hither and thither. 

“I guess,” Rainbow grumbled, but before she could continue griping her eye was caught by a mossy smudge up ahead. Squinting, she could see it – a great boulder sitting squat in the river, dividing it in twain. “Yo,” she said, prodding Twilight in the back.

“What? Oh,” Twilight said, as her gaze followed Rainbow’s pointing hoof. “Squirrel?”

“Yeah, I see it. It’s a rock.”

“Yes, well done Squirrel, but what I meant was – ”

“I know what you meant,” Squirrel huffed. “I asked around about this kind of thing in Nestle – the Wither forks and wiggles a bunch, but it all ends up going where we’re going. Barges always take the wider path, I think – it’s deep enough and wide enough for them.”

“Wait! So there’s faster rivers?” Rainbow asked, trying not to get her hopes up.

“Yep. I was going to suggest we take them, actually.”

Twilight turned back from peering out at the approaching fork. “Do you know if the branches stray that far apart? My map doesn’t have the detail for that, but if they’re close enough we could always portage back to the main route if we change our minds.”

“Should do,” Squirrel said, adjusting her oar. “We’ll take it, then? The more time we save the better, and I’d hate to still be in the boat when night falls.”

Twilight nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Alriiight!”

The trio angled off towards the southern side of the river, aiming to take what seemed like the quicker of the two paths. Rainbow figured they’d probably have a bit of a bumpy ride – maybe there’d even be rapids! – but it shouldn’t really be a problem given how big their canoe was. 

The boat bumped and rocked as it passed over the unexpectedly shallow mouth of the branch, immediately picking up speed as it did. “Yes!” Rainbow cheered. “Finally! Some actually speed!” No nevermind that they weren’t even at a trotting-pace, because compared to before? Like lightning. 

“You that claustrophobic?” Squirrel asked.

“What? No,” Rainbow said with some confusion. “But if we’ve got these dang trees above us then I can’t scout and find you again, obviously. Plus... yeah, I hate it when I can’t fly even if I wanted to, but that’s more of a takeoff problem on this thing,” she said, giving the hull a solid thump with the butt of her oar, “than a tree-thing.” Admittedly, she probably could takeoff on such an unstable base, but since she’d just as likely tip the canoe as not when she did, it wasn’t really an option. 

“I hadn’t thought about that,” Squirrel admitted, tapping a hoof against the hull herself. “You’ve been taking off from a standstill the last few days.”

“Well sure – on solid ground.”

Around them, the river kept picking up speed until it reached what must’ve been a solid trot, the water burbling loudly all about. The trees thinned perhaps a touch too, letting them see further around them than they could before. 

“What was that?” Twilight said, jerking her head sharply leftwards. Looking, Rainbow couldn’t make out anything – just bushes, trees, rocks, and... hang on.

“Wait – I see something too,” she said, peering into the gloom. “A bear, maybe?” It’d looked like a dark blob darting low over the ground, its form soon lost from sight.

“Whatever it is, we’re on a boat,” Squirrel said frankly. “There’s no pony-threats out here, anyways. There’s no way I wouldn’t’ve heard about it if there was.”

“I wasn’t getting spooked.”

“Well, just ignore it then.”

Rainbow intended to do just that, except – 

“There it is again!” she said, pointing to another of the blobs, like a low, spindly-legged mound. “Or a different one – can’t see nothing in this.”

“I... yes, I can see it,” Squirrel admitted, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “Can’t say I know quite what it is, but again – we’re in a boat. We’re fine.”

They didn’t see anything more of the odd creatures for a while after, their canoe drifting happily downstream as their branch of the river soon turned to butt up against the cliffwalls, giving them a pleasant sense of security. 





Their speed had picked up once again though as the river became ever shallower. “Left!” Twilight shouted back to them. “On three! One! Two!” With a grunt, Rainbow pushed down hard on her oar as the three of them worked to heave the stuck canoe off the rocks. With a lurch, they rotated almost perpendicular to the flow before dislodging and continuing down the budding rapids. 

“‘Both paths should be fine,’ she said,” Rainbow muttered mutinously. “‘They’ll both take us where we’re going,’ she said.”

“And they are, aren’t they?” Squirrel replied testily, doing her best to steer them on. “We’ll be fine!”

Rainbow just grumbled in response, not at all happy with how rough the trip had become. She was jostled back heavily as they rammed against another cluster of stones. “This isn’t working!” she shouted to the other two. 

“Leftwards, then!” Twilight called back. “Port! Let’s beach before we break something!”

Rainbow grunted again, her oar digging in as they fought the current and aimed for shore.





“Canoe’s okay,” Twilight confirmed, having gone over the outer hull carefully with Squirrel. The two of them were on a short, rock-and-mud section of the riverside, still puffing softly from the fight it took to get them just this far. It was abundantly clear that they hadn’t the skill to take to the river again – at least not here, where it was so rough. Unfortunately, the portage was anything but a pleasant alternative.

A rustling, crunching noise heralded Rainbow’s return. “It looks pretty clear in there,” she said as she pushed back out of the woods. “It’s only bushy here by the river.”

“Walking’s back on the table, then,” Squirrel said, sitting back on her haunches as she pondered the situation. “Might be our only option.”

Twilight nodded slowly as she tried to work out just how far away they were from the main river route. “The canyon’s not that big,” she began, scuffing at the ground in thought. “We can’t be more than a kilometre – maybe two – from the Wither proper.”

“Oh joy,” Rainbow said, grabbing her gear in resignation. “More boat-carrying, but this time through weird bug-bear-thingy territory.”

“I’m sure whatever it was, it was harmless,” Squirrel said, sitting up to gather her own belongings. “And if it’s not, Twilight can always blow them up, right?”

“I can?”

“Well... can you?”

“Umm...” Technically, battle-magic was well within her abilities to perform; unfortunately, she’d never seen any reason to actually learn any such spells before. “Let’s not count on it.”

“Oh. Shoot.”

Rainbow rounded on her. “Hey! I thought you said there weren’t any pony-eaters out here!?”

“I did! There aren’t! I definitely would’ve heard about them if there was!”

“Not if the Nestlonians didn’t want us to know!”

“‘Nestlonians’?” Squirrel mouthed, aghast at the bizarre word. 

“Dash, I really don’t think the village conspired to send us to our doom,” Twilight said, hoping to temper Rainbow’s defensive... enthusiasm. “I’m certain there’d’ve been better methods to do so it they did.”

“Yeah, well – fine. But if we all get eaten then I totally told you so,” Rainbow harumphed. 

“Wouldn’t ‘Nestlians’ sound better?” Squirrel mumbled.

“No, that sounds pretty awful too,” Twilight said, securing her and Rainbow’s pannier straps. “Now let’s get this canoe up and going while we still have plenty of light. Which way’s north, Dash?”

“That way,” Rainbow said, pointing as she wrestled her end of the canoe upside down.

“Then we’ve a heading.” In short order they’d gotten the canoe up and over their heads before trooping heavily into the woods, leaving the merrily babbling river behind. 





Rainbow was right – it was pretty clear out here, the initially thick line of bushes having only extended a hooffull of lengths in. Twilight couldn’t see too much from her place in the middle, but she knew she should have a fairly straightforward time of it – the trees were spaced just far enough apart their path wasn’t too serpentine, although the rocks and ruts in the ground led to more than one instance of cursing and stumbling. Unfortunately, there was one other problem.

“Can you still see them?” Rainbow asked, her voice low.

They’d been forced so slow by their route that they didn’t even need to stop for Squirrel to heft the canoe above her head. “Yeah,” she said, voice hushed. “Two, now. They look skittish.” The odd creatures had returned; at barely more than barrel height, with four spindly, arched legs, thickly-scaled back, and what Twilight was fairly certain were a pair of pedipalps, they hardly seemed too threatening as they lurched and skittered about. Intimidating, certainly, but logically not too threatening.

Unless they were venomous, of course.

It didn’t help that all her senses were screaming ‘pack animal,’ either. They appeared to just be observing the trio for now. Normally any sensible pony would find another path, but they were becoming increasingly worried about the waning sunlight.

“Slow and steady, then,” Twilight said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. “They’re probably just curious, anyways.”

“Seriously, Twi?”

“Well... they’re not doing anything but watching us, right? So that’s good.” Of course, it was a bit difficult to know for sure given that the canoe’s bobbing kept blocking their sight. 

It was only a few minutes later, after having dragged the canoe up a particularly difficult slope, that the third one appeared almost directly in their path. “Hold up,” Squirrel whispered, abandoning the canoe as she crouched down low. 

“Maybe get your hatchet out?” Rainbow suggested, eying the creature warily. 

Squirrel shook her head. “I’m better off bucking – grab it if you want it.”

Twilight split her attention between the two of them while she tried to figure out what to do. Something about this didn’t seem to add up to her, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. “Don’t go charging in, Rainbow,” she cautioned, creeping up to join the other two as they huddled against an adjacent tree. Almost immediately the creature thumped its forelimbs down into the earth, screeching.

“You sure you don’t know any blow-things-up spells, Twilight?” Squirrel asked, not even bothering to keep her voice down now. 

“Nothing appropriate for this!” she squeaked. 

With a grinding, tearing noise the creature tore rough lines into the earth, chunks of dirt and rock flying all about. A moment later, however, it skittered backwards and out of sight. The trio stared after it for several quiet moments before speaking.

“That’s... odd,” Twilight finally said. Was it a sentry sounding an alert?

“Gone is good,” Squirrel said, hushing her voice once again. “We going back?”

“And walk the rapids? The shore, that is,” Twilight said uncertainly. “But we must be nearly there, right? Maybe we should press on.”

Rainbow snorted, standing on her hinds and peering around suspiciously at everything. “They’ll follow us if we go back, won’t they? They’ve been following us since we took the fork.”

“Maybe. Unless we’re nearing their nest, or warren, or whatever.” Going forwards hardly seemed the sensible option, but going back didn’t seem much safer. “What happened to the other two?”

“Gone. Or hiding.”

They settled into an uneasy silence. Although Twilight knew that the sensible thing was to turn back, her intuition kept poking holes in her thoughts. “Right, let’s look at this rationally,” she began thinking quietly aloud. “Either route can get us to the main river, but as both can attract these creatures those points cancel each other out. Going forwards is more likely to attract attention, mind you, but as it should also have us out of here sooner there’d be less time to attract attention in.” She fell to muttering to herself before speaking clearly again. “Getting there sooner helps us get out of these woods sooner too, though, so that would seem the better option... if it’s a burrow of sorts it’d be even worse, though. Shoot.”

“I say we go forwards,” Rainbow chipped in in a whisper, hatchet still in hoof. “Running from things just makes you more scared, right? So let’s not run.”

“Don’t know if we can hack and buck our way through them if we get in trouble,” Squirrel dithered, clearly not too fond of the idea, but just as clearly wary of the alternative. “Can you levitate and bash things with rocks and sticks, Twilight?”

“Hmm? No – telekinesis impels virtually no force upon the levitated object. I’m surprised you don’t know that.”

Squirrel shrugged self-consciously. “Never thought to ask anyone before.”

“We can look after you, Twi,” Rainbow assured her, tucking the hatchet under a wing as she fell back to all fours. “So... forwards or back?”

Squirrel peered quietly at Twilight, apparently leaving the decision up to her. Well, here goes nothing. “Let’s go on.” The sooner they were out the better, and it was feeling far too much like the creatures would be harassing them no matter which path they chose. 

“Okay then,” Squirrel nodded as she moved back to the canoe. “Let’s be quiet about this.”

The three of them carefully, fretfully, heaved the canoe back overhead and started forwards once more. Progress was exceedingly slow, with either Squirrel or Rainbow’s end hefted high enough at all times to let them keep lookout. While occasionally they could make out one or more of the creatures, they were always keeping their distance – much to the ponies’ relief. 

They’d reached a small rise when they put the boat back down to rest. Taking long pulls out of their canteens, they sat on their haunches, staring worriedly out into the gloom. “I wonder what time it is,” Twilight whispered to herself.

“Probably after noon?” Squirrel muttered back. “Not long after. All goes well, we should be well down the river by nightfall.”

“Can we backtrack to Nestle? There’s a deer or two I’d like to yell at.”

“Heh – nah, it’s all upriver I’m afraid.”

“Dang.”

“More of them over there,” Rainbow interrupted, pointing down and left of the way they were going. “See that ridge?”

Twilight peered out into the distance; a particularly large tree, fallen with its roots exposed to the sky, quickly caught her eye. Squinting, she could make out movement in its divot. 

“There’s more around the tree itself, too,” Rainbow added, frowning. 

“We’ll go wide around it,” Twilight decided. “If that’s some sort of nest, then we don’t want to get any closer than we have to.”

“Would’ve expected more of them around there if that were the case,” Squirrel chipped in. “Unless they’re scared?”

“I suppose they could be,” Twilight conceded hesitantly. “We are considerably larger than them; plus, we’ve only really seen a few of them at a time – maybe there isn’t actually that many of them?”

“Let’s not count on it,” Rainbow said dismissively, looking eager to move on. “Safer that way. I’m good to go.”

“Same,” Twilight nodded. 

They carried on down the steep northern side of the rise, keeping an ever-watchful eye on the ridge. By this point they could see several of the creatures moving about. Curiously, only a few of them were actually watching the party; the rest appeared to be darting in and out of sight, or disappearing up into the canopy. “At least we know where the birds went,” Rainbow mumbled, ears folding back. 

“And at least they don’t seem to be web-spinners,” Squirrel added.

“Unless it’s invisible thread?”

Twilight, head ducked low, saw the nearest of the creatures jerk towards them as they spoke. “Quiet!” she hissed out, giving Rainbow a telekinetic poke in the back. “They can hear you!” As if on queue, the creature rapped hard on the ground before charging towards them.

Twilight held her breath as it approached, hoping it was just feigning. 

“It isn’t stopping!” Rainbow barked, ducking out from beneath the gunwales before the creature got too close. “Drop the canoe!”

Squirrel and Twilight hastily tossed the canoe aside to land heavily on the ground. While a single one of these things wouldn’t be much of a threat, the shadowed divot was writhing with activity – more were coming. “We should get out of here!” Twilight yelped, frantically looking around.

“We can’t leave the canoe!” Squirrel insisted, standing her ground. This wasn’t a canyon for walking through – they were committed now. 

The creature darted at Rainbow before coming to a thumping stop only a couple paces away, pounding on the ground with its adze-like legs like a baying dog.

Rainbow lashed out, swinging her hatchet with abandon, missing as the bug-thing fell back and continued to pound on the ground. “Get the canoe out of here!” she shouted back at them, her voice cracking.

“Grab your end,” Squirrel said as she started pulling her own end forwards. “We’ll drag it!”

Twilight hurried, pushing the canoe scraping along the ground while Rainbow kept close, her wings wide as she postured at the creature.

More of the things were pouring out of the divot – Twilight was far too busy for a good count, but guessed as many as a dozen. 

Fear gave them legs as they quickly made more progress in those few minutes than they’d made in the last quarter-hour, as they pulled and shoved their transport onwards, heedless of the stones and roots they scraped and butted against. 

A shout from behind broke the daze she’d fallen into – Rainbow had lunged again to swipe at the thing, its brethren fanning out close towards them. With a dull thunk her hatchet clove into one of the creatures limbs, cracking it, pink and white poking through the broken shell. It leapt back squealing as Rainbow readied herself for more, roaring indiscriminately at the creatures.

Something seemed to break inside of Twilight. She was frightened, she was tired – a small part of her was even sad at the poor thing’s misery.

But she would not just sit there while Rainbow was hurt, ‘no combat-magic’ be damned.

She abandoned her efforts with the boat, looking desperately around for anything she could use as a weapon. Her horn glowed as she spied a long, straight-ish branch, ripping it from the nearest tree and shearing off its twigs. Rearing up, she held it spear-like in her hooves, her pasterns locking it tightly into place. She never learnt much about using weapons, no matter her brother’s attempts to teach her, but she thought she could remember just enough to go down swinging.

Squirrel had settled on Rainbow’s far side, hunched low to the ground, muscles taut. As much as Twilight wanted to say something – anything – her mouth didn’t seem to want to work anymore. She was breathing rapidly, deeply as though she’d just run a race, but before she could try and tame it the nearest of the things pounced at her. 

Frantically, Twilight thrust at the creature, striking it a glancing blow midair; the thing slid along the shaft, bouncing off her shoulder and nearly knocking her to the ground. She struggled to regain her footing, berating herself as she tried to remember everything she could about how to stand, how to step, and how to strike. 

But in the heat of the moment all she could do was thrust and bash awkwardly, knowing that she could do it with so much more force, knowing she could do it with so much more alacrity, but being far too busy just trying to survive to actually do so.

The creature reeled under her clumsy assault, skittering back to hide amongst its kin. Beside her, Twilight could make out the blur of movement, of cyan and dun rolling and leaping and darting, but it was all she could do to concentrate on her own situation. 

She stepped forward, the knobly branch sliding roughly through her forehoof as she harried the creature, trying to keep it as far away from her as possible. The creature easily sidestepped her attack, but she kept at it, thrusting over and over at whichever beast was closest, at whichever one wasn’t moving for even a moment. 

She stumbled, dropping her point to the ground to keep her balance. As if waiting for this moment, the nearest creature leapt up at her neck, smashing against her shoulder as she cowered instinctively. It clung to her, scrabbling and scratching as it tried to bite its way through her jacket. Branch dropped, she batted frantically at it with her hooves; panicking anew, her horn glowed bright as she dumped a blast of raw magic towards it, a discordant mass of pressure that made her ears pop, but succeeded in knocking the thing off of her. She swung an empty hoof blindly at its retreating form before scrambling to pick up her branch again, thrusting wildly in front of her as she hastily retreated back towards the others.

The creatures started falling back almost as one, hissing and thumping – but clearly wary of them. Risking a glance, Twilight saw three – no, four – of them on the ground, writhing, or trying to drag themselves away from the ponies. Rainbow and Squirrel both looked worse for wear, but there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with them.

“We need to move the boat.” It took a moment for Twilight to realize that the words had come out of her own mouth. Squirrel blinked dazedly at her before darting towards the bow of the canoe, pulling it onwards as she stared wide-eyed back at the things. After a moment’s hesitation Twilight moved to join her, shoving at the stern, her head turned perennially over her withers to keep watch.

They had a dismal time of it, far too distracted and ill-coordinated to make much progress, but their efforts in the fight seemed to have intimidated the creatures – they’d followed only enough to hover about their injured kin before they all faded from view amongst the trees. The next half-hour passed in panting silence; Twilight pushed, Squirrel pulled, and Rainbow stood vigil – that was enough. 

“Stop,” Squirrel said suddenly, making the other two jump in surprise. “We’ve some distance now – grab some water and check for injuries.”

Twilight hadn’t realized until now just how parched she’d become. She didn’t protest, releasing her end of the canoe to lay back wearily against the hull, her horn aglow as she plucked out a pair of canteens. “Dash,” she said, hovering one over to the grateful pegasus. Taking several long pulls, eyes on the thin woods around them all the while, she rolled her shoulders, examining herself for any open cuts or breaks. Not finding any, she looked over the other two. 

“Just bruises, I think,” Rainbow said, hoofing back her canteen. “If there’s any blood, it’s not enough to go through my jacket.”

Twilight nodded as she tried to ignore the mixed fear and anger at the thought of a maimed Dash. 

“‘Bout the same here,” Squirrel added, stretching widely and carefully. Undoubtably they’d all be feeling this tomorrow, but for now they seemed to be okay. 

“I don’t know if they have venom or not,” Twilight said, lurching tiredly back to her hooves. “If anyone feels weak or, I don’t know, dizzy, say something immediately.” Not that there was anything they’d be able to do about it.

The other two nodded as, in unspoken agreement, they stowed their canteens and set about pushing their canoe onwards, still far too wary to blinker themselves with a portage.





The merry chattering of water was like music to their ears. Twilight had long since lost track of time, but given the dappling of sunlight ahead, it was likely not long past noon. While they hadn’t seen any sign of the creatures since the fight, they hadn’t dropped their guard either. So it was that, rather than break into a trot at the sight, they only breathed sighs of relief as they warily carried the canoe onwards. 

Her back and shoulders were killing her. They’d ceased pushing along the ground, instead taken to holding up the boat between them – while good for keeping on eye on their surroundings, her body really wasn’t meant for this. 

Even Squirrel was starting to flag. 

“I think you’ll be doing all the rowing, Dash,” Twilight puffed out as they neared the river. “My arms feel like lead.”

“Current’ll do most of it for us,” Rainbow replied, hatchet still tucked under a wing. “But I gotcha.”

They stepped out onto the narrow bank and sat the canoe on the water’s edge. Although the tree cover was noticeably thinner here, the area was still cast in gloom and shadow. “Right – let’s get this loaded.” They quickly doffed their gear and stowed it back under the thwarts; once done, they pushed off into the river, soon getting caught up in the current. 

“Oars out and rowing,” Squirrel said once they’d reached the deeper central parts. “I want to get out of this mess as soon as possible.”

“No kidding,” Rainbow said, hesitating a moment before finally setting down the hatchet and tucking it close to Squirrel’s gear, before she grabbed an oar. 

Twilight just groaned as she picked up her own and made an effort to keep pace. The rare spots of sunlight felt warm on her fur, their number growing as they went, the canopy thinning above them. “Sorry,” Twilight mumbled.

“Hmm?”

“About before – going on instead of falling back to the rapids was a really dumb idea.” She shrunk in on herself, unable to look either of them in the eye.

Rainbow snorted, wings ruffling in agitation. “Going back would’ve been dumb too, right? Those bugs would’ve attacked us either way, but this way we’re on a river now, and not lugging a boat all over the place anymore – that’s way better.”

“But they weren’t aggressive before,” Twilight insisted. “If that fallen tree was their burrow, or an entrance to their nest or something, then they might’ve left us alone if we’d gone back.”

“Maybe,” Squirrel chimed in. “Or maybe they’d’ve just waited til nightfall – we wouldn’t’ve gotten out otherwise today.”

Rainbow growled, digging her oar in angrily. “Yeah, about that – how the hay didn’t anyone tell us about the pony-eating monsters in there?!”

“I... don’t know,” Squirrel admitted. “I didn’t specifically – I just asked about dangers along the route, you know? Maybe they’re new.”

“Maybe they’re not even pony-eaters?” Twilight wondered. “Herbivorous animals can be quite violent when defending their territory. If true, maybe that’s why noone told us?” The explanation sounded weak, even to Twilight.

“Pretty sure you’re just splitting hairs there, Twi,” Rainbow said. “Like, fire doesn’t eat people or anything, but you still tell people if things are on fire, right? ‘Cause it’s still hot.”

“Yeah,” Twilight deflated in her seat. “Yeah. Perhaps a newly invasive species, then. I suppose the barges don’t stop anywhere along the river, here?”

“If there’s no docks or villages, then definitely not,” Squirrel said, staring into the woods around them. “It’s a pretty big canyon, too, and there were, what, only a dozen of them?”

“‘Only,’ she says,” Rainbow scoffed.

“Something like that,” Twilight said, studiously ignoring her. “Let’s make a note to ask about it in Beech – maybe someone there’ll know more.” She also carefully made a note to never to go back to Nestle again, just in case Rainbow’s conspiracy theory was right.

They relaxed in the afternoon sun; with the canopy ever-thinning above them, they were largely content to simply drift downstream, enjoying what little light still pierced the canyon walls. 

Having given up on her attempts to row, Twilight tugged out her mapbook, figuring she’d do well to at least work out where they were. Unfortunately, the maps were too large-scale for her to make out much in the way of details; she could make out what she thought was the ill-fated branching they’d taken earlier, but for all she knew it could just as well be a different one further ahead. If that wasn’t the case, however, then there was a solid chance they’d get to within a couple hours’ travel to Autumn Beech by nightfall. 

What further branching there was appeared relatively inconsequential, with wide plains that should open up soon on the northern bank. Beech itself appeared to sit right at the fork where the Whither split into a myriad of little riverways, the majority of which then joined together to flow north and south of the low mountains east of the city. One of these southern branches was what they were looking for – one that would take them through the Seven Mines mountains, thus swiftly bypassing the treacherous north Coriander.

Unless they’d been mislead about that, too.

Soured by the thought, Twilight huffed, slapping the maps irritably.

“What’s up?” Rainbow asked, midstroke.

“Remember Waffles? From Nestle?”

Rainbow set aside her oar, ears perked. “It’s been, like, a day, Twi – yeah, I remember.”

“I’m just wondering... can we even trust her and Channel, now? About the shortcut through the mines. After those creatures...”

Rainbow frowned. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Weren’t you two going to ask about that in Beech?” Squirrel chimed in from the stern. “I still don’t think the pony-eaters were a trap – doesn’t feel like it, anyways – and the bypass is kind of well-known.”

“We’re definitely double-checking on that in Beech, yes.” Twilight shook her head slowly, clapping her mapbook shut and tucking it back away. “I don’t know – maybe I’m just being paranoid.”

“Understandable,” Squirrel conceded. “On that note, how’s everyone feeling? It’s been a couple hours now, I think.”

“Sore,” Twilight grimaced. “Just sore – luckily.”

“Same,” Rainbow grunted, returning to her rowing. “The sooner we set up camp the better.”

“We still need some distance,” Twilight said, gesturing at her stowed maps. “We should be able to get to within a couple hours of Beech by evening.”

“Ugh. At least the current’s still good.”

“Mmhmm.”





The sun was beginning to disappear behind the hills rising ahead. It was some hours now since they’d come into view, appearing low in front of them as soon as they’d left the canyon. The day had warmed up around them nicely, leaving them in good cheer as they kept a weather eye out for somewhere to pitch their tents. 

“And that’s when I punched it right in the face!” Rainbow crowed. “It totally would’ve bitten grumpy Squirrel in the flank if I hadn’t!”

“Really,” Twilight drawled, glancing at Squirrel to see her rolling her eyes; Rainbow had spent the last several minutes regaling them with her actions in the fight, despite the fact that they were both there beside her.

Perhaps it was practice for when they got home?

“You know it! It was all she could do to not fall down crying in thanks.”

“That doesn’t sound very much like Squirrel,” Twilight noted doubtfully.

“She hides it well,” Rainbow nodded sagely before whipping around to grin at the mare. “But that’s why she’s gonna give us a discount, right? A flank-saving discount.”

“... I’ll think about it.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Meh – better than nothing.”

“Are we close enough to call it a day?” Squirrel asked, none-too-subtlely changing the subject.

“We should be good,” Twilight nodded, quietly pleased with how far they’d gotten despite their fatigue – they’d have plenty of time to plan things in town tomorrow, this way. “See somewhere good?”

“Sort of – the bend up ahead has enough of a beach for us; the trees will be nice, too.”

The three of them began rowing again with renewed vigour, eager for rest and a hot meal. 

The canoe bumped gently up the pebbly slope, Twilight hopping on out with a splash to drag it further ashore, the other two close behind. Taking stock of the location, they found themselves in fairly clear wooded area that should hopefully shelter them should the weather turn foul overnight. 

“I’ll scout around,” Rainbow said, immediately taking to the air. 

“While she’s doing that, I’ll find somewhere level to camp,” Twilight said, heading into the woods, needles and twigs crackling with each hoofstep. 

“Plenty of firewood,” Squirrel added, head held high as she peered about cautiously. “We’re well away from the beasties here, too.”

“We’ll be safe,” Twilight said, as much to assure herself as Squirrel. “Dash’ll spot anything suspicious, anyways.”

“Except they burrow, right? That’s what you said,” Squirrel said, as she started to sound rather spooked. 

Twilight gave her a friendly shoulder-bump. “We’ll be fiiine, Squirrel – don’t worry about it. Besides, we roughed them up once; we can do it again.”

“Of course we can,” Squirrel said, relaxing somewhat. “Of course we can. This looks as good as anywhere, doesn’t it?” They’d wandered several metres in, finding a fairly even, stony spot that looked decent. First checking around for any ants or the like, Squirrel began setting loose rocks in a circle before gathering some firewood; at the same time, Twilight made her way back to the canoe. 

She was just shuttling the last of their gear to the campsite when Rainbow thumped down.

“How are we?” Twilight asked, pleased that Rainbow didn’t look worried.

“All good,” Rainbow said with a flick of her tail. “We’re in a thin strip of trees, maybe a hundred metres at most across? Just meadows and more mountains after that.”

“Sounds lovely,” Twilight said, dropping the gear into the pile. “How’s Beech? Could you see it?”

“Yup! Built on some hills around the rivers. Lots of farmland too – might be rice or something?” Rainbow frowned before shaking her head dismissively. “Danged if I can tell from this far – it’s growing in mud, whatever it is.”

Squirrel tossed the last of the tinder into the small stack she’d gathered. “Does sound like rice,” she agreed as she grabbed her panniers and began rooting through them. “If you’ve got any food you want cooked, grab it and we can get going on dinner.” They’d picked up some tubers and roots in Nestle, figuring the variety would make up for the extra bulkiness.

In short order they’d gotten Twilight’s pot out and set to boil on the fire, while the three of them kept busy gathering more wood and getting their tents set up. Night had fallen by the time they were done. 

“Potatoes and carrots,” Rainbow mused, poking at the pot. “I guess it counts as a stew. Sorta. Would be better if it hadn’t gotten dark so quick though.”

“We could pick up some herbs in Beech?” Twilight suggested. “You won’t likely be able to scrounge anything growing wild afterwards.”

“Or before,” Rainbow sighed. “Ah well. Maybe they’ll have some oregano?”

“We’ve the time to check,” Twilight said, as Squirrel passed out some cheap wooden spoons and bowls she’d picked up in Nestle. “It wouldn’t make sense to leave until the day after tomorrow, bright and early in the morning.” She yawned before digging into her food; it wasn’t half-bad, all things considered, though that may’ve just been her hunger talking. 

Eventually they ran out of excuses to stay awake. They chatted briefly about keeping a watch, but ultimately decided there was no need to feed their paranoia; plus, not only did they all really need the sleep, but none of them had any experience keeping watch, so they’d probably just end up passing out anyways.

With that decided, they doused the fire, crawled into their tents, and tried to find some rest.
> Chapter 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight awoke from her lingering half-sleep to the nattering of birds. Several times throughout the night she’d wake up, tense, listening for the sounds of breaking twigs, shifting rocks, shuffling dirt, before falling back into an uneasy sleep. The only positive was that she didn’t think she was alone in this, if that was even a positive at all. 

She rolled over as best she could in the cramped tent to find Rainbow already awake. Twilight grunted faintly in greeting.

“Mmph,” Rainbow replied, wriggling around as she dozed. 

Judging by the soft, blue light shining through the canvas, it was later than she’d’ve liked; as much as she wanted to sleep in, she really didn’t want to have to spend more than a day in Beech. She shuffled awkwardly upright, shaking Rainbow gently as she did. “Up you get,” she mumbled, forcing herself out of the tent. 

Blinking dumbly in the daylight, she followed the sounds of splashing down to the riverside. Pebbles crunched underhoof as she came up to Squirrel, busy dousing her face in the brisk water. “Morning,” she said as she followed suit.

“Oh, good,” Squirrel said, giving her a friendly splash. “I didn’t have to wake you.”

Twilight gave her head a vigourous shake, water spraying as her mane whipped about. “Great – now I’m wetter than I wanted to be,” she pouted. 

“You’ll live,” Squirrel smirked at her, turning back to the camp. 

Feeling about as alert as she was going to get, Twilight clopped out of the water after her. “I suspect we’ll need to wake Rainbow again.”

“We could collapse the tent around her?”

Twilight snorted as she entertained the idea. “Leeet’s give her a few minutes first.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t actually that much to do; so, after scattering the ashes in search of any stubborn embers to extinguish, Twilight poked her head back into their tent. “Up you get!” she repeated, giving Rainbow another nudge. “Up! We can sleep in Hurricanum.”

A hoof reached up to push Twilight’s muzzle away. “I’m awake! Geez,” Rainbow said, rising more quickly to her hooves than Twilight would’ve guessed. “Just give me a sec,” she added, leaving the tent to head riverwards.

While she was off waking herself up, Twilight pulled out their gear and bags. She was mostly done rolling them and the tent up by the time Rainbow’d gotten back. “Took you long enough,” she teased, finishing up her work. 

“Yeah, well... whatever,” Rainbow shrugged, glancing around their clearing. “We good to leave, then? I don’t want to take to the air until you do.”

“Should be good,” Twilight said, sharing a quick look with Squirrel. “Yep – we’re good.” She tossed her gear onto her back, balancing it carefully until she could load it back into the canoe. Rainbow waited until she and Squirrel had pushed off from the bank before taking off once again.

“Back soon!” she called down to them as she gained height and disappeared downstream. 

There was barely a scattering of clouds in the sky. The day promised to be a warm one too, with the morning chill already fading despite that it was little after dawn. They rowed languidly, letting the current do most of the work for them as the tree-lined banks drifted past. “Well, we got started nice and quick today,” Twilight said after a while. “Couldn’t’ve taken more than twenty minutes.”

“Helps that you’ve finally gotten down how to collapse your tent properly.”

“It did take a mite longer to learn than I’d anticipated, yes,” Twilight admitted – much to her annoyance, the canvas-bound frame really didn’t like being folded unless it was being done just so. “Should be able to make it to town before noon.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I – actually, I suppose you’ll be leaving us, then.” Twilight had more-or-less forgotten about that until now – Autumn Beech had always seemed so far away before.

“That was the deal, yes,” Squirrel said, shrugging disconsolately. 

“Well... thanks for getting us this far?” Twilight said, a questioning lilt to her voice; she couldn’t help but feel that most of the trip she and Rainbow could’ve done on their own. “We’d, umm, oh! We’d still be stuck in the swamps without your help. So there’s that.” She was poking a bit more fun at Squirrel then perhaps she should’d’ve, but she couldn’t really help herself here. 

“Yes!” Squirrel cheered up a bit at that. “I definitely helped there. The forest, too.”

Twilight wasn’t entirely certain what else to say – it seemed even Squirrel knew she’d been less of a guide for most of the journey, and more of a travelling companion. Still, a deal was a deal, and an egregious sum of money was an egregious sum of money. “Sooo...”

“...”

“What’re your plans after this?”

Squirrel shrugged, clearly lost in thought. “Don’t know. I’ll need to head back home soon – might just wait until a westwards convoy flies through? Take that to Calendar, then another back home.” She didn’t sound very convincing though.

Twilight nodded along distractedly. “Oh, right – you’re on vacation right now, aren’t you?”

She shrugged again. “After a fashion.”

They fell into an uncomfortable silence as they focused instead on rowing. The trees had thinned enough to fade almost entirely into grasslands and meadows. Steep mountain slopes lay close by to their right, while far greater ones lay far to the north, blued by distance. 

It wasn’t too much later that Rainbow reappeared, coming in to circle low overhead. “Hey!” she shouted out excitedly. “There’s a rocky bank up ahead – pull over there!” And with that, she took off again grinning.

“She looks pleased,” Squirrel noted, eying her curiously. 

“Better that than stressed,” Twilight said, watching her friend do a few figure-eights before dropping down and out of sight. “I wonder what she wants?”

Not five minutes later they spotted her again, standing on a wide, rocky beach of sorts, where the river turned sharply. It took little effort to direct the canoe thence, beaching themselves on the gravel. Rainbow bounded out to pull them a little more secure before leaning on the prow. “Alright, so bear with me,” she began, still grinning widely. “But the river branches up ahead.”

“Not again!” Twilight groaned. 

“No, no! It’s good this time!” Rainbow insisted. “Look, most of the paths around here are fine – they’re flat, they’re shallow, they’re boring.”

“Safe, you mean,” Twilight countered. “Safe is good.”

“But still boring!” Rainbow repeated, wings fluffing out as she struggled to find the right way to word this, before, apparently, just giving up and blurting it out. “Let’s take the rapids!”

Twilight raised a brow skeptically. “Excuse me?”

“They’re fine! They’re not that bad at all, I think,” Rainbow said, her hooves bouncing up and down, the boat bobbing beneath her. “But they look fun! I mean, we’re splitting up after this, right? So, like, let’s have some fun with this first! Worse case, we aim for the shore and just walk the boat to the next river – it’s barely more than a hundred metres or so at most, so it’s not like it’d be any trouble.”

Twilight wasn’t entirely sold on the idea – getting to Beech as quickly and soundly as possible made the most sense to her. Still though...

“Sounds good to me,” Squirrel said, a smile gracing her muzzle. “We missed out in the woods, after all.”

“Exactly!”

“I don’t know...” Twilight hedged – it would make for a neat last-leg of the journey, though. Unfortunately, Rainbow chose that moment to bring out her secret weapon.

“Are you...” Twilight hesitated. “Are you making puppy-dog eyes?”

“Yep!” Rainbow exclaimed, tail flicking as she put back on her best begging-face. “Pleeease?”

Ugh. “Oh for goodness’ sake.” She rolled her eyes. “Fiiine.”

“Alriiight!” Rainbow cheered, immediately pushing the canoe back out into the river. “I’ll tell ya which way to go!” she said, hopping in between them. 

Twilight was too busy trying to keep the canoe steady to respond for a moment. “Fine, fine; you’re sure this is safe?”

“Totally! I don’t think it’s more than a couple feet deep; plus, I don’t think it’s even rough enough we couldn’t just swim through it in a pinch. I just thought it’d be fun.”

All things considered, it didn’t sound that bad to Twilight. It would hopefully make for a nice sendoff for Squirrel too – after going through the mess in the woods together, she felt she’d miss the mare. With the sun beginning to fully rise, and the cool breeze blowing in their faces, she was actually starting to look forward to it. 

“There it is!” Rainbow called out, pointing ahead to where the river visibly branched, a little cluster of stubby trees growing between the streams. “Take the right one!”

They reangled the canoe, Twilight sitting up tall to try and scout out just how bumpy it was going to be. As Rainbow had said, both banks were shallow and easy to climb, while the water didn’t have much in the way of white caps – which was good.

They picked up speed almost as soon as they entered the branch, their oars out and pumping as they fought to keep stable. “This isn’t nearly as bad as in the woods!” Twilight shouted. 

“We’d’ve needed a proper raft for those!” Squirrel called back over the sound of rushing, splashing water. 

Between them, Rainbow was laughing as they paddled around little obstacles, having an entirely unreasonable amount of fun considering she could fly, Twilight thought, especially considering these rapids could hardly be called ‘whitewater’; in fact, she had a feeling they shouldn’t even be calling them ‘rapids.’

A brisk splash of water sprayed over the bow, soaking a grinning Twilight mane-to-tail. After everything since their airship went down, she finally felt like she could relax and enjoy themselves – they were practically there! Autumn Beech was more than big enough to have made it onto every map, no matter the scale; sure, they had the Seven Mines to pass through next, but that was it! One more obstacle and they were done.

The canoe bucked beneath them as it bumped up against a boulder, the water frothing all around. “Give it a shove!” Twilight shouted as Squirrel and Rainbow heaved, pushing them off and away from the mess of caught flotsam, the current quickly yanking them back around.

The water swirled as they fought their way out of its eddy, getting thoroughly soaked in the process. Paddling hard to regain some sense of control, they aimed for a relatively calm bit. “This is great!” Twilight laughed out.

“Hell yeah!” Rainbow cheered, whipping her mane out of her face. Behind her, Squirrel poked questioningly at their gear.

“Panniers should still be dry inside,” she said, hoof splashing back down into the layer of water their canoe had picked up. “Let’s take it easy though – we don’t exactly have anything to bail this out with.”

“Right,” Twilight agreed, sobering up a touch as she noticed the pooling water. “Can do.”

“It doesn’t last much further than this,” Rainbow said, shaking her head. “We’ll be fine. Now! Let’s get going again.”

The trio eagerly rejoined the rougher parts, as ahead of them Autumn Beech loomed ever closer. Set on the tip of the long, hilly arm that divided the North and South Whithers, Beech was an old river-trade and farming town, built sprawling around the fertile riverbanks; dominating its centre, set on a stony rise, was a wooden fortress turned now to governance. 

The river soon started to smooth out, much to the ponies’ disappointment. “Aww,” Twilight pouted. “I don’t suppose there’s more of this up ahead?”

“Nah,” Rainbow said, looking equally put-out. “Nothing.”

“Maybe there’ll be something on the mine route?” Squirrel wondered. “Could ask around about that.”

“I guess...” Twilight trailed off, giving it a bit a thought. “Might not be safe though – we’ve the town right here, after all, so it wouldn’t really matter if we capsized. Not much, at least.”

Rainbow shrugged, kicking idly at the water pooled in the boat. “We can deal with it when we get there.”

“Mmhmm.” They passed close by a herd of cattle, grazing near the riverside. “Almost there, aren’t we. Do we just keep following this path?”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said. “There’s a big dockworks that all the little rivers end up joining near. Bunch of sheds and stuff too – I guess we store our canoe there?”

“Yeah,” Squirrel chimed in. “Could rent a spot there overnight, or just leave it tied up in any old place and hope for the best.”

“And risk having it stolen?” Twilight said, scandalized. “We’ll pay. Doubt it costs much, either.”

“Nope.”

As they got closer they started passing short, wooden piers jutting out into the river; scores of dinghies were tied off or dragged ashore nearby. The occasional pony or deer could be spotted minding the herds, their dogs sprinting around madly as they directed the cattle to wherever they were off to, but for the most part the agriculture seemed to be based around the many terraces built into the hills. “I’d’ve thought there’d be more wheat fields or the like around here,” Twilight remarked, gazing around as best she could at their flattish surrounds. “Seems like it’d be easier.”

“Nah – it’s all a rocky mess around here,” Rainbow answered. “Couldn’t see anything like good farmland when I was scouting this out.”

“Ahh.”

As they turned a bend the city-docks came into view, a frenetic melange of piers, mooring piles, and anchored boats. Here, the river, swollen now by multiple converging branches, was slow and wide, its current weak, as it parted north and south about the docks.

The place was busy, with dozens of canoes, dinghies, and cats puttering around, to say nothing of the myriad of boats moored at the many docks. 

“Let’s get up to shore,” Twilight said, pointing at a mostly-clear section not far off. “We can drag it out of the water there. One of us can then ask around for someplace to store it.”

“I can do that,” Squirrel volunteered. “You two just guard the canoe in the meanwhile.”





Squirrel wound her way alone through the wall of sheds they’d beached behind. Finding a dry-berth to rent for the night should be trivial – she’d seen a couple on the way in, in fact; rather, this was probably going to be her last opportunity to make up her mind about what she was going to do about the other two. 

Sure, she’d only agreed to take them this far, but after all the mess with the swamp – and the woods too – she was kind of inclined to see this thing through all the way to Hurricanum. It probably wouldn’t even take her any longer to get back home from there either, if she didn’t count the extra few days’ travel through the Mines; plus, she’d never been there before, so going might actually make her vacation feel like a vacation. 

She arrived at the first shack and poked her head in the open bay door. Canoes of various makes were stacked on beam-shelves nearly to the canted roof high above, while dust and scattered chips covered the well-worn stone floor.

“Hello there!” she called out to a stallion near the back. He paused in his planing to spare her a glance.

“Can I help you?” he said, waving a shavings-covered paw at her as he slumped comfortably on his stool.

Squirrel ambled into the storehouse, the noise of the docks muffling behind her. “Any chance of storing a canoe here til tomorrow? Not looking forward to trying to drag it to the inn with me.”

The demigryph glanced up and down the storage racks, ears flicking in thought. “Yep,” he nodded. “Got room if it’s not for long.”

“Terrific – I’ll be back with it soon,” Squirrel said, turning to leave. “Oh!” she added, pausing at the threshold. “That reminds me – you wouldn’t happen to know if any of the convoys are stopped in town right now, would you?”

He shrugged. “Don’t know. Head over to the northside – you should be able to see the skydocks from there.”

“Sounds good – thanks.” She’d figured as much, but it hadn’t really hurt to ask. Stepping out again into the late-morning light, she hurried on back to the other two. 

It wasn’t long before she found them. “Hey!” she shouted down to them, as they hunkered impatiently beside the canoe. “Found a place.”

“Great!” Twilight called back up, looking relieved to be able to get back to doing something. “Let’s go, Dash.”

The pegasus grumbled as the two of them awkwardly carried the canoe high enough up the embankment for Squirrel to get some purchase on it. Together, the three of them heaved it over their heads and made their slow, cautious way back to the storehouse, doing their best not to knock anyone over in the crowd.

“Sorry!” Twilight apologized to yet another poor soul they’d accidentally clocked with the thing. “Really sorry!”

“Almost there,” Squirrel called back over her shoulder as she watched the annoyed pony stalk off in a huff. She gave a sigh of relief as they approached their destination. “Here we are!”

“Finally,” Twilight echoed her sigh. It took only a few minutes for them to work things out with the stallion inside, their canoe hefted on high by block-and-tackle.

“I know an inn or two,” Squirrel said, nudging them back outside and towards the central rise. “Cheap, but clean.”

“Right,” Twilight nodded as they began to weave past the many shops and stores around them, their alleys becoming ever narrower and their roofs ever taller as they ascended the hill. “So...” she trailed off, words almost lost over the bustling clatter of hooves on cobble. “I suppose we’ll pay you your due there?”

Squirrel shrugged, trying to look disinterested despite her traitorously swishing tail. “I guess. Mind if I meet you there later though? I’d like to check out some things first.”

“Alright? I mean, I can’t see that that’d be a problem.”

“Good, good,” Squirrel smiled, as she began humming to herself. She ignored the nonplussed looks the two were giving her, being far too interested in trying to remember everything she could about the Mines. On that note, however, it occurred to her she probably shouldn’t wait til later to say something – just in case they disappeared on her. “Do either of you mind if I come along the rest of the way? I haven’t been along that route before, but I’m sure I could pull my weight.”





Twilight stared at the mare – while this wasn’t wholely unexpected, she still found herself surprised. 

“And how much would that cost us, exactly?” Rainbow asked, looking Squirrel up and down skeptically. “Another bazillion bits?”

“Drams.” Twilight couldn’t help herself.

“Yeah, drams – whatever,” Rainbow huffed, ruffling her wings. “It’s still a bazillion of them.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Squirrel waved her off. “Or about the first bazillion, for that matter.”

“See? She – wait, really?”

Squirrel shrugged in her best attempt at nonchalance. “I only asked for that much ‘cause I figured you two’d say ‘no’ if I did; was kind of annoyed when you agreed to it anyways,” she added, shooting Twilight a displeased look. 

“For goodness’ sakes, Squirrel, why didn’t you just say so!” Twilight exclaimed, giving her a poke in the chest. 

“You two looked like you were going to try to cross the Green Leek no matter what,” Squirrel scowled at them, trying to make it abundantly clear how foolish she thought that was. “I could hardly let you blunder around and die.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Twilight tried, fighting her blush. 

“Wait, hold on,” Rainbow cut in, flapping her hooves. “Hooold on – this means we get to keep the cash, right?”

“Of course you’re hung up on that,” Squirrel rolled her eyes – a habit she was gaining from Twilight. “Yes. I don’t want your money.”

“Is it ‘cause you did such a bad job?” Rainbow grinned, giving her a nudge. “I bet it is, ‘cause you really did a bad job.”

“Umm...” Squirrel hesitated. “Maybe a little?”

“Hah! Knew it.”

“Well, sorry for having standards! I’d just feel kind of dumb taking any money now, all things considered.”

“Aww, you did a fine job guiding us,” Twilight said, patting her on the withers. “A very fine job indeed.”

Squirrel snorted, shaking her head. “Great – even you’re ribbing me.”

“Maybe a little,” Twilight echoed, grinning. “Well I for one don’t mind you coming along in the least. Rainbow?”

“Meh.”

“How enthusiastic,” Squirrel drawled.

“Oh, she’s just being difficult,” Twilight said, flicking her with her tail. “Why do you want to come along, anyways?”

“Haven’t been through the Mines before,” Squirrel explained, walking a touch more lightly now. “Haven’t seen Hurricanum either – or the lake for that matter. Shouldn’t add much more to my trip home, too.”

“What about work?” She and Rainbow were technically on a mix of vacation days and government pay right now, but Squirrel presumably didn’t have that luxury. “Must be a heck of a vacation you planned.”

“It’s less of a ‘vacation’ and more of an ‘I’ll reapply when I get back’ kind of thing?”

Rainbow let out a low whistle. “You quit work just to go hiking!? Weirdo.”

“Be nice, Dash,” Twilight chided, giving her a nudge. “She probably just wanted to give up her grueling day job in pursuit of her lifelong dream of kinda-sorta-poorly guiding people around the continent.”

“Did I just get burned twice?” Squirrel said indignantly. “By the librarian?”

“Hey!” Twilight giggled. “I can be witty! And how’d you know what my job was, anyways?”

“Lucky guess? You give off vibes, you know.”

“Super book-vibes,” Rainbow nodded in agreement.

“Would’ve guessed you were some sort of archivist if you weren’t so young-looking.”

“I’m not that young,” Twilight pouted.

Squirrel laughed. “You say that like it’s a bad thing!? Equusians are nuts.”

“Uh huh,” Twilight huffed over their giggling. “So where exactly is this inn we’re heading to, then?”

“Ahhh just up ahead, if I’m remembering rightly,” Squirrel grinned, looking around to get her bearings. “Shouldn’t be far.”

In short order she veered off down a side alley, its jettied buildings looming darkly overhead. Signs jutted out to hang on rusted chains, naming shops and inns alike. It was but a few doors down that Squirrel found what she was looking for, entering an otherwise nondescript building. Twilight and Rainbow followed close on her tail. 

They trod into a smokey, cramped barroom, chairs and tables stretching straight across to the far windows. Despite the low, sooty roof and general disorder of the place, it wasn’t particularly gloomy – Twilight figured it would, in fact, be rather cheery once it had filled up come evening. Not seeing anyone about, Squirrel beelined for one of the side doors near the bar; judging by the muffled conversation she could hear through the wood, she was probably on the right track.

After getting bounced around between a couple of workers, they were finally able to find someone to talk to about getting a room.

Once they’d sorted out their lodgings for the night, it was time to hit up the town for supplies and, hopefully, some sound advice for their next leg. “Might want to split up for this,” Twilight tendered as they stepped back outside, still fully geared up. “I don’t know how big this town is, and we still need food, maps, and info.”

“Not many thousands here, last I heard,” Squirrel said, still looking pleased as punch. “We’ve got plenty of time; best we stick together too – I still know where the markets and airdocks are, after all, and it’s those latter that’ll likely have any maps we’re looking for, I think.”

“Fair enough,” Twilight said, figuring that all sounded reasonable enough – most people travelling through here likely did so via the aerial convoys, after all. “Which first?”

“Docks,” Squirrel said, looking left and right down the alley as she tried to work out which way to go; with a hum, she took off further down the alley. “Best view from there,” she added as an afterthought. “Might as well get the uphill stuff out of the way first, too.”

They soon crossed into a wider street, hanging a right to keep going up. The buildings were less dense here, with little yards and sheds adorning many of the corner streets; the sounds of chickens were omnipresent. “This place used to be a military town, didn’t it?” Twilight asked as they passed through an old, mossy palisade half-hidden amongst the homes. “Ages back?”

“Kind of,” Squirrel said. She jerked her head to the hill’s peak, where they could just make out the top of the wooden keep. “Used to be a more aggressive polis, you know? So of course it had its own little army; being at the fork of the Whithers was no small boon, and what better to do than enforce a toll? Nothing of consequence here anymore though.”

“How’d that work?” Rainbow asked as they passed by yet another sturdy, stone building within the bailey, vertical arrowslits littering its top floor. “Can’t exactly stop a bunch of big barges going through if they don’t wanna be.”

Squirrel chuckled. “You can, actually. If we’re lucky we’ll be able to see them from the docks, but there’re a couple towers each side of the both the rivers; what they’d do is, is they’d raise a giant chain between them. It’d be too heavy to get onto the surface, so it’d end up sitting a couple feet under the water – low enough for paddleboats to go over, but anything bigger would have its keel cut out from underneath it if it tried.”

“Oof,” Rainbow winced. 

“Yep! Chain’s still there too, buried somewhere at the bottom in all that muck.”

“A bit mercenary for my taste,” Twilight frowned – such a toll would’ve been far too prone to corruption to be of any real benefit to the town. “What happened?”

“About as you’d imagine – a bunch of the towns and cities around the Basin banded together and came down here in force.”

Twilight grunted. “Predictable, from the sounds of it.”

“Mmhmm. Think that was a century back, now? Thereabouts.” They were passing back out of the bailey, entering an area clearly built out over the hill, as dirt and cobble switched to stout wooden planks beneath them; between the cracks they could make out the slope slowly falling away. A stairway ahead led up to a higher platform. Given the lack of shops here, it seemed likely this wasn’t the main entrance – that, and that they still didn’t have much in the way of a view encouraged them to keep climbing. 

Pausing a moment at the base of the stairs, they waited for a group of people to finish coming down, its members chatting amiably as they balanced rucksacks and panniers on their backs.

“Tourists?” Twilight wondered aloud, glancing back over her withers at the noisy group as they made their own way up. 

Rainbow snorted. “Doubt it – not much to see around here.”

“Probably just passing through,” Squirrel said as they clopped up onto the next platform – this one much longer and wider, with a triplet of airship hulls hovering in bays just off to their left. They’d need to ascend yet higher if they wanted to reach them. “Good camping around here though – that route I took last time goes all the way to Drizzle, and it’s supposed to be quite beautiful.”

“Drizzle’s the underground one, right?” Rainbow asked, perking up. “With all the gnolls? And dragons and gold and treasure?”

“I... don’t know about those last bits,” Squirrel hedged, side-eying the mare. “But, yes.”

“We totally gotta go there, Twi.”

“I’m pretty sure we want to get to Hurricanum, actually.”

“Well, yeah,” Rainbow admitted. “Obviously. But, like, afterwards.”

“You’d trust one of these airships again?” Twilight asked, doubt evident in her voice. “The last one was supposedly of quality build.”

“Nah – we’d hike!”

Twilight sighed, but didn’t much feel like arguing about just how silly that sounded. “Let’s just save this conversation for when we finally get back, okay?”

“Aww...” Rainbow slumped. “That means ‘no.’”

“Alright kids,” Squirrel interrupted them, just as they reached the main loading dock. “Time to focus.” She settled down onto the planks and stared back out over the town. From here they were roughly level with the top of the fortress; below, the town sprawled out downhill, right up to the rivers’ edges. Just as Rainbow had said, there was little in the way of farmland beyond – what had looked like grasslands from the canoe were in fact a patchwork of meandering rivers, rocky beaches, and thin, tree-lined bogs, stretching nearly the entire width of the mountains north and south. Although Twilight could just barely make them out from here, most of the food was grown on terraces carved into the northern face; likewise, facing them from across the North Whither – where the ground evened out away from the river-nexus – were the town’s orchards. 

Well to the south they could just barely make out the break in the cliffs they were heading to next, where the South branched to pass through the marshes and drowned tunnels of the Seven Mines. “Doesn’t look too far from here,” Twilight said, squinting into the distance. “I think I can see part of the mountain chain the Coriander runs along, too – Hurricanum’s just at the end of that.”

“An afternoon’s flight, if we had one of these,” Squirrel said, jerking her head at the ships behind them. “Still some days off for us, though.”

“Almost there,” Twilight muttered before, with a shake to clear her head, she turned her sight back to the town below. “Right, then – where’re the markets? Any ideas? I can’t make out any open-air ones from up here.” At this angle everything was just rooftops and yards. Logically, the cluster of buildings making up the main entrance to the port would have one or two supply shops somewhere among them – lugging heavy gear back up to this height would be a menace – but it seemed equally unlikely anybody would bother hauling food up this high when travelers would favour the fresher markets below. 

“Over that way, maybe?” Squirrel had stalked off to the ship-side of the gangway, nodding down to something. Stepping over, Twilight could see a small clump of colourful buildings on the far side of a northern bridge. “Orchards likely drop off their produce there,” Squirrel reasoned. “Would make sense if the main open-air wasn’t too far off.”

“We’ve a destination, then,” Twilight said, pleased they had a heading – it was already just after noon, from the look of it.

“Hey – you two are just gonna look around that entranceway for some things, right?” Rainbow said, jerking a wing towards the port entrance. “‘Cause if so, I can take a fly down, check things out, then come find you after.”

“Sounds good to me,” Twilight said with a nod. “Need me to handle your gear?”

“I can take it,” Squirrel offered. Rainbow shrugged before doffing her satchels and hoofing them over. 

“Back soon!” Rainbow said as she bounded towards the end of the dock.

Squirrel took a moment to wedge the satchels between her own panniers before speaking. “Well, off to look for maps, then?”

“Yep – we’ll want some sort of markers for the tunnels, too.” Twilight led the way back down, weaving through tarp-covered crates and bare struts – the dock presumably didn’t see enough traffic to warrant keeping things tidy – and towards a series of small, ramshackle buildings wedged tightly against one-another. There were a few stevedores milling about outside what looked like the harbourmaster’s office; rather than simply passing them by, she figured she’d try asking for a spot of help instead. “Hello there,” she began, smiling tentatively. “Know of any places around here that sell maps or travel gear?”

“Or rope?”

“Yes, or rope, or anything like that?”

One of gryphons grunted, giving her a disinterested look as he pointed a claw vaguely a few doors down. “Hang a left there – should be the third on your right.”

“Ahh, right, thanks,” Twilight said, walking on as the dockworkers went back to chatting amongst themselves. 

“Not particularly comfortable talking to strangers, are you?” Squirrel asked as they watched a dirt-smudged group of foals gambling merrily past. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure I saw a sigh of relief when they spectacularly failed to maul you.”

“I didn’t think they’d attack me!” Twilight scowled – hassle her a little, sure, but outright assault her? No. “I just don’t like – I mean, I don’t know what they’re going to say or do, after all.”

“Don’t like jumping in if you can’t see the bottom, huh?”

“Precisely.”

“Which does rather beg the question as to just what you’re doing in Avalon, then,” Squirrel noted. “I can’t imagine they sold you on the idea that being a diplomat was an entirely predictable job – not all the time, at least.”

Twilight hummed to herself as she tried to work out the best way to word this – she felt like she owed her some kind of explanation after all this, especially considering she was following them onwards. “A... friend back home encouraged me into this.”

“Encouraged, or ‘encouraged,’” Squirrel said, rearing up for a moment to make air-quotes. 

“Bit of both,” Twilight admitted as the other mare clopped back down. “She’s always been high-up politically – myself too, if to a lesser extent – and she’s been wheedling me into this for ages. Said I needed to get out more.”

Squirrel’s brows shot up, a great grin on her face. “Wait, wait – your friend wiggled you into a high-end, long-distance diplomatic gig because she thought you ‘needed to get out more’?” She let out a bark of laughter. “Wow.”

“It does sound kind of silly when you put it like that, yeah,” Twilight said sheepishly as they drifted to a stop outside an old stained-wood storefront, its varnish peeling off in droves; unlike the open-fronted workhouses either side, this one had a pair of dirty front windows and a heavy-looking door, crooked open in the hope of tempting a breeze. “Technically we’re observers, but in reality this is more of a paid vacation of sorts.”

“Equusians are definitely weird. This looks like it, by the way,” Squirrel said, nudging the door a little further open before stepping inside. The interior was cramped, with packed shelves running down the length of the shop; still more gear lay on beams and trellises above. 

A disheveled-looking buck glanced up from where he was rummaging behind the far counter, just barely visible in the back. “Hello there!” he called out to them. “Got something in mind, or just browsing?”

Squirrel stepped in front of Twilight with a friendly flick of her tail, clearly taking point. “Heading through Seven Mines tomorrow, actually,” she began, heading towards the counter.

While she was busy with the clerk, Twilight figured she’d best get to browsing for what they needed. Largely ignoring what the other two were talking about, she wandered down the narrow aisles seeing what they had. A great deal of what was there seemed to consist of parts for various ship systems – a lot of which amounted to tubing, piping, gauges, and so forth – but there was a decent deal of general gear here as well. Rearing up to sidle down a particularly thin section, she found the rope they were looking for. Should be well made, too, considering it’s for ships and all.

Finding things in the right gauge was proving to be a bit of a nuisance, however. Luckily, Squirrel took that moment to poke her head down the aisle. “There you are! Find anything we can use?”

“Yep,” Twilight said, unhooking a couple of lengthy coils that looked about right. “Still want something to mark our passage through the tunnels though – paint, maybe?” Although if it wasn’t bright enough it probably wouldn’t help.

“Picket here’s got some real bright stuff we can use,” Squirrel said, disappearing from view again. Squeezing her way out of the aisle, Twilight followed her to the back counter proper to see the buck had set down a few small tins.

“Doubt we need all that,” Twilight said, nudging the cans around to face her. “Which is brightest, do you think?”

“Yellow looks good to me,” Squirrel said, tapping one of them. “Should be able to see it well enough on the walls – let’s go with that.”

It was not much later that saw them stepping back out into the alley. “Shame about the maps,” Squirrel said as they wandered back the way they came.

“Yeah...” Twilight said, a touch put-out; unfortunately, they didn’t have any back-country guides for where they were going. “We might have to wing it.”

“The route’s pretty straight-forward – just follow the main river. It’s supposed to have some decent flow compared to all the deadends that branch off it, so we shouldn’t really be able to mess it up.”

Twilight hummed irritably – she hated winging it. “Still not ideal.”

“We’ll make it work.”

“Mmm.”

They’d just reentered the dock when Rainbow dove down to meet them, landing with a clunk. “There you are!” she said, ruffling her wings as she stepped up to them. “What happened to being in a hurry?”

“Oh, shush,” Twilight said with a roll of her eyes. “We’ve got our stuff, sans the map – any luck finding the market?”

“Yup! Squirrel was totally wrong by the way,” she said, preening. “Nowhere near the bridge at all.”

“Well, off to it then,” Twilight said, ignoring Squirrel’s grumbling. “Lead the way.”

Rainbow nodded and took off jauntily back the way they’d just come. “Looks like there’s a shorter path down here,” she said back over her withers. “Then it’s just a more-or-less straight shot down to the bottom, hang a right, and boom! We’re there.”

“Wouldn’t that put us right next to the bridge?” Squirrel drawled.

“Pffft! It’s, like, ten miles away from it!”

“I don’t think it is, actually.”

“We’ll find out soon enough,” Twilight cut them off. “In the meanwhile, daylight’s burning.”





As it turned out, the market was, in fact, right next to the bridge. “Nuh uh!” Rainbow insisted. “There’s, like, an entire block between us and the river!”

“It’s not even a hundred metres!” Squirrel countered, stomping a hoof. “Practically half that!”

“Twiliiight!” Rainbow whined. “Tell her I’m riiight!”

“Oh for goodness sakes, girls, how in the world are you arguing about this!?” Twilight huffed – she was hoping to avoid being drawn into their inanity. “We should focus on replenishing our rations – oatbars, dried fruit, that kind of thing – so enough bickering already; honestly.”

“Hear that?” Rainbow smirked. “Twilight says I’m right!”

“She literally didn’t.”

“You’re just jealous ‘cause I win.”

“Girls. Food.”

“Fine, fine,” Rainbow relented, going back to checking out the stall-fronts either side. The market here was quite probably the only one in the town considering both how large and crowded it was, but also how varied its wares were. Food – fresh and otherwise – was prominent, but more than a few canvas-covered stalls or permanent shops were displaying clothes and other things. 

They didn’t really need much – this was more precautionary than anything – but Twilight would hate for anything so easily preventable stymying them later on. 

“How ‘bout we get some new stuff?” Rainbow asked as they passed by a line of coat-racks. “We’re never going to get the smell of the swamps out of our clothes. Or the tent.”

Twilight was tempted – the stink was faint, but nigh omnipresent – unfortunately... “Much as I want to say ‘yes,’ anything we get is as likely as not to get just as mucky on the next bit. We should probably wait til Hurricanum.”

Rainbow wilted. “Makes sense I guess. Only a few more days, at least.”

“Just a few more,” Twilight agreed, trailing off as her eyes finally caught on something. “Here we go.” She veered off towards a display of neatly-stacked piles of bars and patties. Little signs hung on small stands next to them.

“Oats, fruits,” Rainbow read off as they wandered down the line. “Jerky, pemmi – wait, pemmican?” Her face scrunched up. “Ew.”

“I don’t think those are for us,” Squirrel said, peering over her withers. “Fish I’m fine with, but game? I think not.”

“I don’t think I’ve had fish jerky before,” Twilight said as she scrutinized the pile herself. “Any good, Dash?”

Rainbow shrugged. “It’ll get stuck in your teeth, but otherwise, yeah – it’s kinda nice.”

“Ick. Maybe not, then.”

They ended up just sticking with the fruit and cereal types, taking care to buy more than they’d need. ‘Just in case the boat goes down and we have to walk it,’ Twilight had said. After that, there was little left to do but wander around some more and take in the sights, such as they were. 

“Bit rural, isn’t it?” Twilight said as they meandered down the riverside. “More so than I’d thought it’d be, I mean.”

“‘Rural’?” Squirrel snorted. “Didn’t you say you lived in an orchard-town? How much more ‘rural’ could this possibly be?”

“Sweet Apples is... well, it is small, yes, but it doesn’t feel small.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s...” Twilight cast around for the right way to word it. 

“There’s a city,” Rainbow said, beating her to it. “A big one! It’s in the distance, but it’s close enough – that totally makes Sweet Apples way more fancy than this.”

“I was going to talk about the railways and that we’ve one of Equus’ five Great Libraries, but sure, Canterlot on the horizon works too,” Twilight finally managed to get out. 

“Those things do sound more impressive than ‘a big city in the distance,’” Squirrel rolled her eyes. “It actually doesn’t sound as backwater as I’d thought.”

“It kind of is, actually,” Twilight admitted. “It should be far larger, given its location and history, but seeing as it’s abutted the Everfree forest for some centuries now, most people don’t want to live anywhere near it.”

Squirrel kicked a stone idly out of her way, watching it skip briefly along the silty water. “Something wrong with the woods?”

“The magic there’s... erratic,” Twilight said after a short pause. “Makes people feel uncomfortable – like a chill breeze that no coat can keep out.”

“Spooky.”

“Hence the small population.”

The continued down the riverside, passing pebbly beaches and stubby docks, lazing adults and gamboling foals and chicks. “Could grab some food?” Rainbow said as they stopped by the northern terraces. “Do it now and we’ll still have time for dinner later.”

“Not much else to do while we wait til evening,” Twilight said, glancing up at where she thought the sun was. “Don’t think it’s much after noon, so... sure! See something nice, earlier?”

“Not really,” Rainbow said as they turned back the way they came. “Should be something around here, though.”





It hadn’t taken too long to find a nice place to grab a bite – after a bit of walking they’d come across a tidy little restaurant on a street corner, with red blooming flowers and pale pink awnings. Rainbow poked idly at her empty cup of tea – a nice lemongrass blend – as they lazed in the coloured shade. Street traffic ambled and clattered by as people and cargo were moved up and down the cobbled slopes. There wasn’t really much to do until tomorrow, after all, and the inn here sure beat another night in the tent. 

Or would that be curled up in the canoe? She was still a bit sketchy about just how wet this next section was going to get. “This is kinda dull,” she eventually said, breaking the comfy silence. 

“It kind of is, isn’t it?” Twilight smiled at her. “I still think it was best to wait until morning, though – that’ll give us plenty of time to get acclimated and sort out our pace before nightfall.”

“I know,” Rainbow shrugged. “Still bored waiting.”

“Could go for another fly-around?” Squirrel chimed in. “Scout ahead a touch.”

Rainbow shook her head. “Don’t want to leave you two here.”

“We should be alright on our own for a few hours,” Squirrel tried, shooting a quick glance at Twilight. “This place sees enough visitors that we hardly stand out.”

While quite true from what she’d seen so far, Rainbow still didn’t feel comfortable leaving them behind. “I can do it tomorrow, once we’re on the river – it’ll be fine then.”

“Yep,” Twilight nodded. “That it will.”
> Chapter 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rainbow awoke to heavy prodding.

“Up you get!”

She grumbled, latching harder onto her pillow as she snuggled further into the blankets.

“Oh no you don’t,” Twilight growled beside her. “The sun’s nearly up! Let’s go! I want to be out of this inn within twenty.” She poked her one final time before stalking heavily off. 

Rainbow groaned and stretched, her joints popping as she sat up in bed. They’d ended up just wandering around and window-shopping for the remainder of yesterday before heading back for an early bed – helpful, as from the looks of it the sun hadn’t even come close to rising yet. “Is the boat place even going to be open this early?” she wondered as she slid out from under the covers. “‘Cause I swear it’s still midnight.”

“Of course there’ll be someone there,” Twilight chided her from the other room. “It’s a fishing town – fisherfolk get up early.”

“Ugh.” She set about gathering up her things and getting her gear on while Squirrel lazed, fully dressed, by the door; they’d only gotten a one-bed, so Squirrel had drawn the short straw and slept on the wicker couch – presumably the less comfortable sleep was why she was already up and about, and tired-looking to boot. 

It was only a few minutes later that saw them stepping out into the predawn light; despite the time, the town was indeed already stirring. “And we’re certain we’ve got everything?” Twilight fretted, her horn flaring as she poked at everyone’s panniers. “Nothing was left behind?”

“We’ve already triple-checked, Twi,” Rainbow said, lightly flicking her with a wing. “Seriously. I thought you were the one that wanted to get going early?”

“I do!”

“Well, time’s a-burning then!” Rainbow said, stepping jauntily down the alley and out of her friend’s range. “Let’s go!”

“Fine, fine,” Twilight muttered, still staring back worriedly as they kept a swift clip downhill. 

They arrived at the boatshack to find its doors already open, its interior lit orange by lamp-glow. Leading the way, Squirrel cast her head about before stalking into the gloom towards the same stallion from yesterday. “Hello,” she said, getting his attention. “Boat?”

He snorted. “‘Boat’ indeed,” he said, getting up from his workbench to help them retrieve their canoe from the upper racks. A few minutes later and they were on their way. 

“We going to the same place we came in at?” Rainbow asked, grunting as she shifted to get a comfier grip. “Or are we going south?”

“Same place,” Twilight replied. “Won’t save much time otherwise, and at least this way we won’t get lost or jammed in an alleyway.”

The streets and docks were picking up as they neared the little spot of land they’d beached up on yesterday; from here they could see a triplet of barges coming into the piers, their decks hives of activity. Scrambling clumsily down the slope, they set their canoe in the water and quickly cast off, hoping to get out of the growing bustle. 

“Wonder which route they took?” Twilight mused, shuffling around for her oar as the three of them set about rowing away, southwards. “Must’ve been the main path? Unless they came from downriver...”

Squirrel shrugged. “They’ve the sails to have – so maybe. Going to be a bit annoyed if they did come from Nestle – we could’ve hitched a ride!”

“And missed out on the forest monsters?” Rainbow said with far too much excitement. “Where’d the fun be in that?”

“‘Fun,’ right,” Squirrel snorted. “Here’s hoping the next bit is nice and dull.”

“Hear, hear,” Twilight muttered. Passing around an anchored fishing boat – its outriggers spanning nearly as wide as its hull was long – they found themselves caught up in the South Whither’s current and pulled swiftly away. 

The river would soon branch again, but they had a short ways to go yet before they needed to do anything but paddle onwards. “See the towers?” Squirrel said, jerking her head towards a pair of run-down stone-and-wood structures, some three-stories tall, straddling the river either side. “I mentioned them yesterday.”

Rainbow’d noticed them the day before, but with how much they’d blended in with the surrounding buildings she hadn’t realized what they were. Here though, on the river, she could clearly make a great rusty chain, each link as wide and long as her barrel, slinking out of their ground floors and disappearing into the silt. “Think it could still go up?”

Twilight hummed thoughtfully. “I suspect the weight of all the mud will’ve buried it beyond the strength of the mechanisms to heave. That, and I imagine the same forces that stopped the tolls would’ve also seen to it that they couldn’t’ve been easily reimplemented the moment they’d left, either.” They rowed between the towers, the canoe tilting as Rainbow leaned over the side for some glimpse of the chain in the muddy waters. 

In very little time they drifted past the last of the hillside homes, leaving Autumn Beech behind them. 

The sun had just risen in front of them when they neared the fork. “Main river’s straight ahead, of course,” Twilight chattered on as they kept themselves near the western bank. “The right path’s the one we want. It’s small and slow now, but the map says it’ll join up with another soon, so with a little luck it should pick up then.”

“I’ll scout once it does,” Rainbow said – she’d been neglecting to up til now, far preferring to just laze around and enjoy the canoe ride a little longer; still though – no sense going in blind. 

They soon reached the wide, stony mesa around which the river branched, and took the languid, shaded waters of the rightmost path. The dull susurrus of the Whither faded behind them, leaving them with nothing but the splash of oars and faint buzzing of insects for company. “At least they’re not nearly as bad here as in the swamps,” Rainbow muttered, wing lashing out to swat away a particularly large beetle. “Not like we have the smoke anymore, anyways.”

“These’re harmless enough,” Squirrel said, her ears flicking every time one tried to land on it. “The only even remotely-dangerous ones can’t bite through our fur. They are annoying, though.”

At this point the river turned to face the very edge of the mountain range they looked to pierce; from what Rainbow could remember of the maps, they’d be heading more-or-less straight south once they reached this bit of it, and wouldn’t stop until they got to Hurricanum. “Hey guys – the rivers are going to meet up soon, right? So I should probably get airborne about now.”

Twilight gave her head a little shake to clear it before looking around at their surroundings. “Might be rapids ahead, yeah. Need us to get ashore? Don’t really like the idea of you rocking the boat over on takeoff.”

“Umm...” Rainbow set aside her oar and stood up as best she could. The canoe bobbed unsteadily as she shifted her weight around. “Yeah, might be best.”

What with the abundance of pebbly beaches either side, it took little time at all to get near enough to land for Rainbow to leap out into the chilly, fetlock-deep water. Splashing quickly away from them, she called back over her withers. “I’ll poke around and let you know what’s up before you get to the merge!”

“Yep!” Twilight called back as the two of them paddled back out and downstream. 

Stepping on shore, Rainbow shook the water from her legs, stretching her wings and giving them a few warmup flaps as she did. Once content with that she bounded into the air to coast low over the river, hooves just stroking the surface. Cruising lazily past the canoe, she angled up to grab some height and get a proper look around. 

Not half a minute later she’d gotten above the squat mesa bordering the river’s eastern bank, and got a good look at the far side.

It was... surprisingly unthreatening. Once the two rivers merged together they simply flowed across a rather mundane-looking grassy plain. While one path branched back to what looked like the main river, the one they were interested in seemed to just fade into the mountains some dozen or so miles away. She couldn’t make out the mines from here, but a shiver of anticipation ran through her all the same; she’d passed by more mine shafts than she could count back home, but she’d never actually gone more than a few paces into them – she’d wanted to, but some annoyingly sensible part of her insisted she not do so alone, and she’d never managed to convince anyone to come along with.

But not this time!

Double-checking that the river seemed more-or-less calm – no churning eddies or perilously-rocky sections – she took to circling again for height; seeing as she was about to be stuck underground for who-knows how long, how could she not have some fun first?





Twilight glanced up at the slowly-dwindling form of Rainbow before turning back to the river. “I imagine it’s all good up ahead,” she said, as the river turned sharply south around the mesa and joined up with its sister. “Seeing as it looks like she’s more interested in goofing around than coming down to warn us about anything.”

“Mmhmm,” Squirrel agreed as the waters picked up pace. “Burning off some energy, perhaps? Though I doubt we’ll be underground for too long at any one stretch – the longest part is only supposed to be a few hours long.”

“Does she know that, though?” Twilight wondered – Rainbow had a habit of just letting Twilight take care of all the planning, even before their ship went down; she’d be little surprised if she’d zoned out during all their talks on the matter yesterday. 

As the river straightened out due south again, they got their first look at the range ahead. “One way or the other, we’ll find out soon.”





Rainbow landed deftly beside the others on a little beach but a few stone-throws shy of the tunnel entrance. Rotten shacks lay on carved terraces around the face, with more besides half-drowned in the river pooling about the cliff. The waters here were shallow enough to see rusted rails and stoney roadways below. 

The tunnel itself was blessedly tall despite the flooding, granting them enough room that they needn’t duck or stoop. “I guess this is it?” Rainbow said, suddenly feeling rather skeptical about the whole affair. “There’s nothing else around?”

“You’d know better than us,” Squirrel snorted, gesturing at the otherwise deadend they were in. “But as this is the only river going in this direction, it must be.” The river had flowed with the scree immediately against its western shores, leaving little room for some alternative path hidden away. 

Rainbow grumbled, still feeling uneasy. “Alright, alright,” she groused. “We doing this then?”

Twilight gave her a little nuzzle. “Hey – you feeling alright, Dash?”

Rainbow’s wings fluttered as she lashed her tail. “Yeah, I guess,” she muttered, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, Twi, I’m fine – really. It’s only for a couple of hours anyways, right?”

“This section is supposed to be straight and easy,” Squirrel said, interrupting her pacing. “A couple of hours – no more.”

“Good,” Rainbow rolled her shoulders. “Right. Good.”

“Probably best we get going, then,” Twilight said, bobbing her head back towards the canoe while keeping a worried eye on Rainbow. “Sooner done the better.”

“Yeah,” Rainbow said, pushing the canoe a little ways out before hopping in, one hoof braced against a jutting stone to keep it from floating away. “In we go.”

The other two clambered in before, with a push of their oars, they floated out slowly towards the yawning, black mouth of the Seven Mines.
> Chapter 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The light cut off sharply as they passed beneath the arch; Twilight reached a hoof up to push off against a wooden buttress, stained pale with age. They drifted gently forwards, giving their eyes time to adjust to the gloom. “It’s not so bad,” she said, once she could see properly. The tunnel was squared and unadorned, bar clumps of tools and supplies poking above the water. “Can’t even get lost like this.”

“Yeah!” Rainbow chirped. “Totally straight! This’ll be easy as pie!”

They carried on, the sound of their breathing and splashing of oars echoing tinnily off the walls. As the sunlight dimmed behind them, Twilight spared a moment to conjure a brace of little floating lights that cast them all in a warm glow. 

“Much better,” Squirrel muttered appreciatively from the stern. The light showed what they’d already expected – bare, chiseled walls, with little to break up the monotony.

“You know,” Twilight remarked after a few minutes, “this is really quite dull, isn’t it?” They butted up against a pile of rubble before flowing slowly around it. “I kind of expected... well, more, I suppose.”

Squirrel shrugged. “Don’t complain. Never heard of a perfectly straight, no-side-tunnels mine before, mind you, so it’ll probably change up soon.” 

She was right about that – not a few minutes later the tunnel opened up abruptly into a wide, squat amphitheater of sorts. A hulking, rust-eaten mining machine lay sills-deep in the water, its zephyric tanks long since salvaged. “Sooo,” Rainbow began, her wings twitching. “Now what?”

“Follow the flow,” Squirrel answered, eyes darting around the space. “There’s only one way out for the river here – everything else is flooded and stagnant.”

Twilight concentrated, multiplying and scattering her lights throughout the cavern. Several side passages ran out at irregular intervals – some narrow, some wide. Frustratingly, the water didn’t seem to have any flow at all – at least not that she could see from here. “Let’s poke around a bit,” she said, squinting for any sign of movement on the surface. 

They paddled to the nearest one, its mouth barely visible in the craggy walls. It was roughly-cut; sending a light down, they could see it rose sharply out of the water, the tunnel beyond going well out of her spell’s reach. “Clearly not right,” Twilight muttered as they moved to the next one, taking as much care as they could not to disturb the water any more than needed. “I suppose it would’ve been too much for the path to be marked, wouldn’t it?” While the walls were covered in scrawled markings – some carved, some painted – none of it looked at all like directions. 

“Nah – that’d be too helpful,” Rainbow said as they peered down another one – this one wide and with a well-trodden look to it. “At least the water’s gotten way shallower here – we can see the bottom!”

Leaning over, Twilight could see she right – it was barely barrel-deep here, and the rough, cobble-strewn ground could be clearly made out below. “Should make any movement more visible, too.”

“Check for tracks,” Squirrel said, oar braced against the bottom as they waited for the surface to still. “Could you keep some of those lights near us, Twilight? There’s a good chance the way out for the river is the same way out the miners used to get to the far side – should hopefully be able to tell which way is which from the rails.”

Not the most flawless logic, but Twilight was quite willing to go along with it – the air was starting to feel cramped down here. She pulled several of the smaller faery lights back to ring them like little white embers. While there weren’t any obvious signs that this was the way out, she did think she might’ve been able to see the water moving a ways down the tunnel – assuming it wasn’t a trick of the light. 

“Aww, there’s a bunch of little fish down there!” Rainbow cooed, leaning over the side. “Fishy, fishy!”

Ignoring Squirrel’s bemused look, Twilight glanced over to see a small school of minute, dark-scaled fish darting beneath the lights. “Makes sense there’d be some in here,” she said, watching them flit about as they chased one of her motes. “Wonder what else is down here?”

“Way to jinx it,” Squirrel snorted, still giving Rainbow an odd look. “At most it’s probably just crayfish and the like.”

Twilight looked back at the water, checking again for any sign of flow; behind her, Rainbow continued to stare happily at the fish, tail swishing across the thwart. “Let’s call this passage a ‘maybe,’” she decided. “We’ve still a couple more to check.”

By this point they didn’t even need to row, instead finding they could merely set their oars on the bottom and drag themselves around. Much like on the other side, one of these tunnels was half-blocked and tight, but the other one clearly saw heavy mining work at some point. “There’s even a rail down here!” Twilight said, eagerly pointing off the side. “You can’t it much under the silt, but it’s definitely there!”

Squirrel smiled. “We’ve a heading then.”

“Yep – let’s go!” They began dragging themselves slowly down the new passage, eyes well on the lookout for any other signs of use. Occasionally the tunnel would open up into low rooms, with still more passages branching off into the dark within and along the way; luckily, the further in they went, the clearer still the floor – and rails – became. 

As they drifted ever further under the mountain, old signs of work and habitation became increasingly common.

“Some sort of check-in point, maybe?” Squirrel guessed as they floated past a wooden booth, table and chair too caught up in rope to drift away. “For equipment and stuff?”

Twilight shook her head doubtfully. “Wouldn’t really make sense for it to be this far in, would it? Perhaps some sort of singer booth – for orders from wherever the HQ would be for this place.” Running burst-signals through singers would’ve been horribly expensive, but the mountains would’ve interfered too much with the normal pulses – needs must, after all. 

“What were they mining here, anyways?” Rainbow said distractedly, as her eyes continued scanning the water for another school.

Squirrel shrugged. “Don’t know – not gems or anything precious, at any rate. Iron, maybe.”

“Water’s not brown,” Twilight muttered as they entered yet another cavern. Unlike the others, this one was wide and tall, its roof well out of sight of her lights. Wood and metal shacks, in various states of disrepair, lined the room as far as they could see. Carts and tools similarly littered the place. “Well, now – this is something.”

Rainbow let out an appreciative whistle. “Some sorta whatchamacallit – barracks thingy, right?”

“I doubt anybody would be sleeping down here,” Twilight said as she dug her oar into the shallow bed, bringing them to a halt. “Not counting naps, of course. I can’t see the other side – we need to be careful.”

“Mmhmm.” They pulled their way forwards, the canoe bumping and grinding over rubble. The room seemed to stretch on forever, as workshacks shifted to stacks upon stacks of girders and iron meshes. Squarish hallways led out at odd intervals, but a sense of oppression had fallen over the group, leaving them with little enthusiasm for exploring.

“Wonder where they go?” Twilight muttered. “Seems like an awful lot of work for something the equipment could never have gotten through.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Rainbow said, unexpectedly waving away her question. “They’re to check for new seams!”

“Really?” Twilight’s ears perked up in surprise, not in part because that actually sounded rather obvious now that she heard it. “I suppose that makes sense; where’d you read that?”

“Daring Do,” Rainbow grinned.

Twilight snorted. “Naturally.” Any follow-up was cut off as the canoe juddered beneath them, coming to a jerky halt. “What the – ?”

Squirrel pushed hard on her oar from the stern, looking to dislodge them, but all that did was grind them further in. Twilight pulled some of her lights back close, shining them low over the surface. “Well, shoot,” she said after barely a glance over the side. 

“That’s like, what, knee-deep?” Rainbow said, the boat rocking back and forth as she twisted from side to side, looking down at the shallows. “I don’t think we’re boating any farther.”

“Mmhmm.” Twilight frowned as she peered out around them, hoping there was a deeper path somewhere. “Let’s back up and check around,” she said as she braced against her oar, heaving them off the ground. They paddled to either side of the hall, but to no avail – it was just as shallow near the stacks as in the centre. 

They fell to silence, the canoe bobbing around errantly as they tried to work out their next step. 

“There wasn’t any big passage we missed, right?” Squirrel eventually asked. “There was that one tunnel in the first room, but otherwise...?”

“Reaaally don’t want to have to paddle all the way back there,” Rainbow mumbled, wings shrugging uncomfortably. “Doubt we’re getting out of here by nightfall if we do.”

“The rails only ran through the route we took,” Twilight reasoned, casting her gaze around until she spotted the dull glint some metres to her left. “Still running through here, too.”

“... so we’re walking this, then, aren’t we.”

Twilight looked up, nibbling her lip as she caught Rainbow’s gaze. “Unless anyone has a better suggestion... yeah – we walk it and hope things get deeper, quick.”

Rainbow wilted, clearly not looking forward to this. “Oof.”

“‘Oof’ indeed.”

After a few moment’s pause Squirrel let out a gusty sigh as she clumsily stood up. “Well, no point in waiting,” she said, stepping out of the boat with a small splash. She shivered, shuffling in place. “Cold,” she spat out, turning to brace her chest against the stern. “Out you two get – I’m not pushing with you in here.”

Twilight didn’t hesitate, taking a deep breath and hopping out with an ungainly splash of her own, the water nipping at her neck and barrel. 

“Might not be the right time for a swim, Twi,” Rainbow chuckled, having taken a bit more care stepping off. 

“Oh, shush,” Twilight said, quickly bracing herself against her side of the canoe. Once Rainbow’d done the same, they started forward, the canoe shoving along between them, light enough now to clear the shallows. 

Buoyed on by their joint desire to get out of the frigid waters, they made swift progress; it was after only a short bit of trudging on that the hall abruptly ended, leading into another cavernous space. Pausing at the threshold Twilight again sent out her lights, revealing what may well have been a garage of sorts – multiple large mining vehicles sat scattered around haphazardously or in neat little rows; the room was, in fact, so large that the miners had left numerous pillars intact, as wide around as their canoe was long, throughout the room to keep the low roof from collapsing. 

“By this point I imagine we’re at least a few-hundred metres underground,” she stated matter-of-factly, rolling her neck as she looked up at the ceiling not half-a-metre above her. “I wish I could remember what the average temperature increase with depth was – a degree every hundred metres, I think?”

“That’s what’s going through your mind right now?” Squirrel asked incredulously. “And here I was simply hoping it wouldn’t all fall down on us.”

“It hasn’t yet,” Twilight said quickly, noting Rainbow’s worried gaze above. “So it’s highly unlikely it will anytime soon; needless to say, we should probably carry on.”

Squirrel grunted, giving Rainbow a little poke out of her reverie as they continued on, taking great care to follow the tracks as closely as they could. 

The sloshing of water about their ankles echoed eerily as the rails veered hard to the left and down another tunnel. Taking a last look around, they plowed on, leaving the garage behind. 

“This is kinda boring again, isn’t it?” Rainbow said, having apparently gotten over her earlier anxiety. “I was kinda hoping for more treasure.”

“‘Treasure’?” Squirrel huffed. “I thought we already agreed this wasn’t a goldmine.”

“Could still be booty! Stashed by pirates centuries back!” Rainbow insisted, shooting a disgusted look at the plain, unadorned walls. “Instead we get this. Laaame.”

“‘Pirates’! You look at this mine and think pirates!?” Squirrel spluttered, the canoe drifting on as she missed a step. She splashed forwards, catching back up. “Do you have any idea how far we are from the coast?”

Rainbow looked back at her and grinned. “No.”

Squirrel sighed, her mouth opening and closing as she failed to come up with anything to say. 

“Water’s getting deeper again, girls,” Twilight said, bailing her out. “We can probably get back into the canoe again.”

“Finally,” Rainbow said, rearing up to try and climb back in again; unfortunately, the boat just bobbed and tilted as she tried. “Hey, hold it steady back there!”

“Yes, boss,” Squirrel rolled her eyes, rearing up to do just that. Once the other two had gotten on, she simply backed up a few paces before taking a wet, bounding leap into the canoe; the boat sagged, bumping off the bottom before settling down.

“Smooth.”

Squirrel gave the gunwale a hearty slap. “It’s sturdy enough.”

Twilight frowned and took a quick look along the bottom for any leaks. “I suppose so...” she murmured, finding none. 

“Right, then,” Squirrel said, oar in hoof. “Let’s keep going.”





While earth ponies could hardly be considered creatures of the underground, in Squirrel’s reckoning they might as well have been gnolls compared to pegasi. From the stern, she’d been able to keep a weather eye on Rainbow – the mare had taken to some worrisome twitching and glancing about. It’d been some hours since they’d entered the place, and although everything Squirrel had been able to find out about the tunnels back in Beech – which, admittedly, wasn’t nearly as much as she’d’ve liked – told her they should be just about out, without even a glimpse of sunlight ahead she was beginning to doubt herself. 

Over the last couple of hours they’d passed through multiple rooms and tunnels, some even with junctions splitting the tracks this way and that. In those they’d come across their first signs of helpful graffiti, rather than the scrawls and doodles there’d been closer to the entrance – white-painted streaks daubed on walls pointing them down unobstructed routes. 

They’d occasionally see encouraging signs of movement in the water – minute eddies here and there, or the slow and steady drift of flotsam. 

They were passing by to one such thing – an aged, stained parchment that had spent who-knows how long safe on some forgotten shelf before an errant breeze or falling stone knocked it into the water – when they ground to a sudden halt.

“Again?” Rainbow grumbled, rocking the canoe side-to-side in a futile attempt to dislodge them. “Lights!”

Twilight huffed, her horn glowing brilliantly as her lights grew from fitful embers just barely enough to navigate by to little blazing suns.

“Well, shoot,” Squirrel muttered, squinting in the sudden glare. Rubble blocked the way, water churning through its many cracks and gaps. While not too high to walk over – at least, in as far as she could tell from here – there was no way that getting the canoe over that would be anything other than a nightmare. 

Rainbow snorted, frustrated, before suddenly leaping out of the canoe and splashing over the pebbles and cobbles to stamp forwards over the rocks. “Lights!” she shouted out again without even a glance back.

The glow immediately dimmed to near-nothing, leaving them in almost total darkness. “There were two ways to say that, Dash,” Twilight growled out from the gloomy bow. “And that was the wrong one. Again, if you please?”

There was a ruffling of feathers and shuffling of stones ahead. Long moments passed before Rainbow let out a low, noisy sigh. “Umm... could you shine your lights further out in front of us, please?”

“Why yes, I can,” Twilight said as the tunnel was once again warmly lit. Ahead, Rainbow stared back at them owlishly from atop a boulder, awkwardly scuffing at the stone.

“Umm... thanks,” she mumbled, refusing to make eye contact. “Sorry Twi.”

Twilight wilted. She looked like she was going to say something, but instead hopped clumsily out of the canoe. Clambering over the rough ground to Rainbow’s side, she gave her a little nuzzle before quietly murmuring something.

Not wanting to intrude, Squirrel took care to be extra noisy as she stepped out of the canoe. Twilight’s departure had been enough to dislodge them from the bank and send her bobbing a couple lengths back, so she took her time guiding the canoe forwards and pulling its bow securely out of the water, making a show of slapping a few cobbles out of the way as she did. Looking up, she noticed they had switched to staring quietly off into the gloom.

“Uhh,” she began cautiously. “So are we heading back, or pressing on? Because I’m all for at least trying to see if the blockage is short enough to portage.”

“Hmm?” Twilight shook herself, half-turning to look back at Squirrel. “Yes. Umm...” She shook her head again, her mane tousling about wildly. “Yes! Of course. If we’re lucky this is an old cave-in and the path still goes through.”

Squirrel nodded, jerking her head towards one of the many burbling streams running beneath their hooves. “Stones don’t look freshly broken – no powder anywhere either, so this’ll have happened at least before the last time it flooded.”

“Wait – flooded!?” Rainbow’s head whipped around. 

“Relatively speaking!” Squirrel hastily added. “Probably only a few hooves – when it rains hard enough.”

“Which means there’s nothing we have to worry about,” Twilight said, gently bumping her friend.

“Right... nothing.”

Squirrel hesitantly stepped forwards, heading to the left where the rubble seemed lowest. “Best leave the canoe here for now.”

“Mmhmm,” Twilight said, as she and Rainbow brought up the rear.

From the fore, Squirrel was keeping a sharp eye out at the walls and ceiling above, hoping – perhaps futilely – that she’d see if something were to collapse in time to dodge it. Most of the right side’s roof had come down, calving off great chunks of the wall with it. The cave-in seemed oddly specific – they’d gone some metres in and it still only affected the one side of the tunnel – but she couldn’t hope to guess why. 

Progress was slow, as all three of them were taking as much care as possible to not turn an ankle in any of the gaps and crevices underhoof. “The water’s still flowing fast,” Squirrel noted aloud. “Good sign the way’s clear.” It wasn’t, of course, but she was finding herself increasingly worried about everyone’s morale ever since the novelty of being underground had worn off. 

She was trying to come up with something more convincing to add when the tunnel abruptly opened up. “Well hold on,” she called back, pausing at the threshold for the other two to catch up. “What’s this?”

A wave of lights flew past her, pouring into the new room. It wasn’t nearly as cavernous as the others, instead being barely a dozen metres wide and maybe twice that long; what was notable, however, were the assortment of bunks and desks tucked neatly between numerous cabinets and drawers. Stacks of aged papers and ledgers lay about everywhere.

Some of the lights glided along the water’s surface – smooth once again – and to a smaller, buttressed passage on the far side. There were no rails in sight.

“So they do sleep here!” Rainbow exclaimed. “Knew it!”

“It seems so,” Twilight said, stepping down into the room. Squirrel followed close, looking over at the collapsed right-side as she did; it looked like there’d been another room there – probably on the far side of the tunnel wall – before it’d been buried. 

“Check for markings,” Twilight said as she made her way straight for the far passage. Squirrel made to follow Rainbow’s lead instead and aimed herself right at the nearest table to start poking around at all the junk.





“Finally something interesting,” Rainbow grumbled to herself, tail lashing irritably behind her. She hated feeling like this – all snippy and tense – but it wasn’t her fault the dang roof here had to be so low, and the air had to taste so flat and stale. 

Her tail lashed again as she got to the nearest desk, its top laden with dust-covered notebooks and sheets. Rolling her shoulders, she opened the top one. “Schedules,” she muttered, tossing it unceremoniously aside before grabbing another. “Check-in times, shift-times, cart numbers,” she sighed, tossing away a triplet more. She began pulling open the drawers, their wood stiff and swollen with moisture, but there were just more books inside. 

She scoffed, abandoning her search to stalk after Twilight, her hooves splishing through the puddle-deep water. Way too shallow for the boat, she thought, hoping it got deeper ahead. Really don’t want to have to walk this.

“Hey,” she said, coming up behind Twilight. 

“Hmm?” Twilight glanced back at her, a smile on her face. “Oh – hey Dash. Look!” She nodded her head down the passage, a few metres wide and echoing with a dull, airy roar. “The way out, I think! It’s deep enough for the canoe, and I can’t imagine what else but the outdoors would be making a sound like that.”

Rainbow felt a knot untangle inside her as an errant breeze blew up at them. “Awesome! Let’s go exploring then!” She turned back around and made for one of the nearer little hallways that ran off the room. 

There was hurried splashing behind her. “Wait! Seriously?” Twilight said, catching up. “But we’re almost out!”

“Exactly!” Rainbow said, feeling better than she had all day. “Open skies are just, like, what – five minutes away, right? But we haven’t found a single bit of treasure yet!”

Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “I really don’t think we’ll find anything but old paperwork here, Dash.”

“Well, what about monsters, then?” Rainbow said, determined to find something cool before they left. Off to her left, Squirrel gave up her own poking around and trotted over to them. “We’ve been in here for daaays now and we haven’t even seen a single one!”

“It’s only been a few hours, Dash; besides, a monster’s just an animal you don’t know yet.”

“Geez – take all the fun out of it, why don’t you,” Rainbow huffed. They stopped and peered down a short hall; burnt-out shards hung from frayed rope along the walls, while their own faery lights could just make out stacks of barrels in the far room. “I’ll bet there’s hundred-year-old triple-distilled apple brandy in those!” Rainbow said, taking an eager step down the hall. “That’ll be worth a fortune to someone!”

“Woah there,” Twilight said as Rainbow was jerked to a halt, her tail wreathed in lavender magelight. “How about we at least get the canoe over here before we start poking our noses down random passages?”

“For a quick getaway,” Squirrel added when Rainbow didn’t look convinced. “In case of sudden monster attack.”

Rainbow rolled her eyes, but gave in – they’d have to drag the thing over here eventually, anyways. Walking the several minutes back over the treacherously-uneven rubble, they found the canoe right where they’d left it. 

“This might be a bit tricky,” Twilight said, stepping down into the water. “The roof’s too low to stand upright with this above us.”

“Can’t you just magic it across?” Squirrel asked, looking unhappily down at the frigid water. “It’s only a short distance...”

Twilight nibbled her lip and gave the canoe a few tentative shoves around. After a few moments her horn lit up and the boat glowed dully before dimming again. “There’s the volume, of course,” she quietly muttered, only partly to herself. “Wood’s always tricky, too. I can do it – definitely – I’m just worried about it tiring me out before we’ve reached daylight again, especially seeing as how I don’t know what we might encounter next.”

Squirrel poked the canoe skeptically. “Really? Because I bet I could lift this thing on my own if I could just balance it on my back. What’s wood got to do with it, anyways?”

“Something about it still being kinda alive,” Rainbow interrupted her, impatient to get moving again. She pulled the bow around to her and started unloading their gear, already having an idea of where this was going. 

“Essentially yes.” Twilight began pulling out her gear as Squirrel, one hoof in the canoe and the other on land, followed suit. “Trying to cast on something living is... difficult. A little like trying to mash two like-charged magnets together, or grab a slippery bar of soap – you can manage it for a few seconds, sure, but after that it just slips away.”

“Huh. I always did wonder why noone just fished with magic.”

“Mmhmm.” Their gear lay slumped on the rubble, alongside the oars. Twilight nimbly hopped back out of the water and dragging the canoe a little further on land. “I’ll carry it along in bursts – it’ll be a touch slow, but it’ll be easier this way.”

“Expecting trouble?”

Twilight shrugged, striding a few paces forwards. “Cave-ins we might need to clear, mostly.” Her horn lit up again as the canoe slowly rose out of the water and hovered towards her. “Right – let’s get this thing through.”





Having crossed the rubble, they portaged the remainder of way and set the canoe down next to the far entrance. Once they’d filled it again with their gear it sat soundly on the bottom, but they shoved a few large stones around it to hem it in – just in case. That done, they made their way curiously back to the side hall. 

“Finally!” Rainbow smiled, taking a tentative step towards the stores. “Booze time!” Though she couldn’t see her, Rainbow could just feel the weight of Twilight rolling her eyes behind her. 

“It’s probably not alcohol, Dash.”

“Well... black powder then!”

“How in the world would that in any way be good!?”

“I didn’t say it would be!” Rainbow insisted as she stepped cautiously up to the nearest one, its staves stained and warped. “Only that it’d be cool.” She gave the barrel a tentative sniff for all the good that would do. 

“Well?” Squirrel, still way back in the main room, called out to her.

“Smells dusty!” Rainbow shouted back before giving the barrel a smack; little clouds of whitish-grey dust flew off it. “Definitely dusty!”

“But it’s not going to explode, right?”

“They wouldn’t’ve stored black powder in the open like this,” Twilight called back to her, giving the barrel – one of several stacked against the corner – a once-over of her own. “It’s safe!”

Squirrel’s hoofsteps echoed off the walls as she rejoined them, Rainbow giving her a flick of her tail once she had. “Ya know if this did explode you’d hardly be any safer being what, thirty feet away from it, right?”

“I’d’ve ducked,” Squirrel absently waved her off, busy now taking in the rest of the storeroom. While crates, barrels, and shelves lined the walls, the main body of the room was filled with workbenchs and tools. Reams of diagrams and sketches littered the place, with half-assembled gear lying forgotten, heaped neatly in piles or still hanging in the grips of long-abandoned vices.

“Right,” Rainbow snorted. “‘Ducked.’”

“Honestly, you two,” Twilight sighed as the other two walked past her to begin nosing around the workroom. “I don’t think we’re going to find anything here – everything of value’s almost certainly been long looted by now.”

“You don’t know that,” Rainbow insisted, scattering papers about as she rifled through thick stacks. “Might be a treasure map in here,” she added in answer to Twilight’s questioning look. She couldn’t help but doubt that there actually would be anything of value here, but it felt like such a waste not to find something for a souvenir. 

“Might have something here!” Squirrel shouted back from up ahead, having pushed open another door just enough to poke her head through. 

Rainbow trotted up to her, Twilight close at her heels. Squirrel still had her head in the other room, having reared up to extend an arm through the crack, faery shard lit and in hoof. Too impatient to wait, Rainbow shoved her head in beside her, cheek brushing against her belly. Ignoring Squirrel’s grumbling, she found the next room was lit not just by the shard, but by a brace of glassy chunks, glowing with a faded, inner ocean-blue light. 

“Ooo,” she cooed, trying to force her way further inside. The door grated along the floor as the gap widened all of an inch before grinding to a halt. Huffing, she pulled back and braced herself alongside Squirrel, together giving it a solid shove. “Dangit!”

“The wood’s too swollen,” Twilight said, nodding her head towards the rot-blackened base of the door. “It’s just wedging itself against the floor.”

Rainbow harumphed, settling herself into a lower stance and leaning again against the wood, prodding Squirrel to do the same. “Nothing another good shove won’t fix!”

The door strained behind their combined strength, but stubbornly held firm. Rainbow pushed off it with a huff and shot Twilight a pleading look. “You can magic this open, right? Right?”

Twilight gave the door another glance before shrugging. “Sure, but from the looks of it it’s just a bunch of half-spent celestine.”

“Ohhh don’t make this lame, Twi!” Rainbow whined, stamping her hooves like a foal. “Can’t you just pretend it’s something awesome for once?”

“Like soulgems,” Squirrel nodded sagely. “Could be the souls of ancient liches in there.”

“Yeah! Exactly!”

Twilight snorted, her horn aglow as she concentrated. “Right, firstly, liches use phylacteries, not soulgems.” Impressions formed upon the aged wood, the door creaking and buckling. “And secondly, liches don’t exist!” With a grunt she took a half-step forward as the door gave one final groan and snapped, the upper hinges tearing off, canting the door back to violently slam it against the wall. 

“Alriiight!” Rainbow cheerfully trotted into the room, ignoring the arcane glyphs pressed into the buckled wood as she beelined straight for the hopefully-not-just-celestine laying on the shelving opposite. 

She reared up to stand with her muzzle almost touching the first of the crystals; bigger than her hoof, it was cloudy and glowed with a soft, azure light, so dim now that she doubted it would’ve been at all noticeable in the daylight. Examining it closely, she gave it a little poke and watching as it bounced lightly off the stone backwall to rest against her nose. It was cold and smelt faintly of ozone. 

She sighed glumly.

“Sooo is it anything good?” Squirrel asked, coming up alongside her to peer at the line of stones herself. “Any wailing faces drifting through the fog?”

“Nah,” Rainbow sighed again – she’d spent more than enough time on airships to know what this was. “Just some stupid floatstone.”

“Dang.”

They explored the room a little further, but it was mostly devoid of anything of interest, or really anything at all. “Everything’s been looted already,” Rainbow shook her head, dejected. “Was really hoping to get something cool outta this.”

“There’s always the experience!” Twilight tried to cheer her up as they started back to the main room. “And the stories! And let’s not forget the friends we’ve made along the way!”

Rainbow shook her head fondly. “You are such a dork.”





They found the canoe right where they’d left it. They’d taken a brief look at the other halls branching off the main room, but all bar one were blocked up, and the one that was clear just led to another looted storeroom. Shuffling aside the stones, they guided the boat back to the passage onwards. 

Twilight led the way into the mouth, lights shining brightly as she looked for somewhere deep enough to launch. The water had gotten cannon-deep when her hooves slipped on the slick rock, sliding her down to the barrel. “It drops off here, girls,” she shivered as she fought for purchase. 

“No kidding,” Rainbow said as she splashed up to her. “You good?”

Twilight nodded as she continued peering down the tunnel. The water didn’t appear to be getting any shallower ahead, and she didn’t exactly fancy spending any more time in the cold scouting than she could help. “Right,” she said, carefully turning back around. “It’s clearly deep enough for us to get back to rowing.”

“Excellent,” Squirrel said as she bobbed the canoe down to the drop-off’s edge. After a spot of awkward clambering, they were all onboard.

Twilight dug her oar into the ground and pulled them slowly forwards. “Nice and slow now, girls,” she said, eyes as much on the water as on the darkness ahead. “Let’s not ground this thing again.”

“Leaks would be bad,” Squirrel agreed. 

“At least we wouldn’t sink very far,” Rainbow muttered, squinting up at every errant crack in the ceiling. “That is, if we don’t get squished first. We’re almost out, right?”

“Just a couple more hours,” Squirrel assured her. “Just a couple more hours.”





The passage did deepen, eventually, if only a little. While it occasionally branched off into tunnels both large and small, more scrawls and graffiti kept them on track. “I guess this saves us needing to use our own paint, huh?” Rainbow said as they passed by a great, white arrow pointing them on. “‘Cause it’s kinda heavy.”

Twilight’s ears twitched, distracted from the dull thumping she’d been trying to make out in the distance. “We’ve still got two more sections to go after this,” she said, head tilted to keep an ear forward. “Best keep it just in case. Do you two hear that?”

The trio fell silent, leaning forwards as a group. The sound was rhythmic and growing sharply in a way the earlier sounds weren’t. “That’s not a draft...” Rainbow began excitedly. 

“That’s a waterfall!” Squirrel finished, slapping her oar against the hull. “Or deadly rapids – but probably a waterfall!”

“I’ll bet it’s covering the exit! Like a secret tunnel hidden behind the falls!” Rainbow flexed out her wings happily, looking for all the world eager to get out and fly. “Maybe there’s a treasure chest next to it!”

“With gold and rum in it,” Squirrel agreed, her tail swishing beside her. “And maybe a fancy hat.”

Twilight snorted, but left them to their fancies – like them, she could barely wait to see daylight again. 

It was scant minutes later when the first glint of light, shining off the damp walls, reached them; the breeze picked up too, blowing a cool mist into their faces as they dug in their oars, pulling and pushing themselves forwards with renewed vigour. 

They rounded the next bend and immediately reeled back, eyes shuttered, as they were blinded by their first sight of sunlight in hours. Blinking rapidly, Twilight wiped her watering eyes on her coatsleeve as she tried to work out their surroundings. The tunnel had enlarged greatly, with alcoves full of half-submerged carts tucked on either side. Thin streams of water poured down the entranceway – much wider than the one they’d come in through – and pounded noisily into the river. “Probably runoff,” she mused as they drifted towards the light. 

The canoe rocked beneath her as Rainbow crawled towards the bow. “Was kinda expecting something more,” she said, her breath tickling Twilight’s ear. “Maybe the treasure’s outside?”

They passed under the streams, the shocking cold not bothering them in the least. The sun’s warmth hurried to greet them as they entered a wide, sheltered valley, open to the west; to the left and right more streams poured out of the rocky cliffside, joining together into a wide river meandering southwards. 

“Finally,” Twilight smiled, glancing up at the sun. “From the looks of it it’s not far off evening – we should see if there’s anywhere to set up camp.”

Rainbow chuffed, slinking back amidship. “No kidding. Let’s get to shore – I can take a fly around and see what’s here.”

The area about the entrance was littered with stony shoals and beaches, so it took them little time to beach themselves. “Gimme a bit!” Rainbow shouted, shrugging her gear off unceremoniously onto the ground before taking off in a hurry. 

“Aaand she’s gone,” Squirrel said, stretching out as she watched Rainbow build up into a wide arc in the blue sky above. 

“With a little luck she’ll see something near the next mine – we’ve still time to get there before evening.” Twilight gazed out over the tall grass towards the southern ridges – somewhere at its base was yet another tunnel network they’d need to brave, with another still after that. “If my maps are right, it should be shorter.”

“Well, that’s good – spelunking isn’t as fun as I thought it’d be.”

Twilight shot her a surprised look. “I’d’ve thought you’d’ve gotten used to them up in Wanderbelle,” she said, settling herself down on a mossy stone.

Squirrel shrugged. “Lots, sure, but I never worked in them, and there’s a heck of a difference between passing through one to get between homes and ledges, and going through that.” She jerked her head back the way they’d come. 

“It did rather lose its charm after a while, didn’t it?” Twilight agreed with a grunt. 

“Yeah. Hey – how long could you keep those lights on, anyways?” Squirrel asked, leaning forwards as she changed the subject. “I don’t think you had more than an hour’s rest that whole time.” 

“Probably not much longer,” Twilight admitted, unconsciously rubbing at the base of her horn. She leaned over to tug at her pannier, rummaging through it for a snack. “We’ll need to use our shards more tomorrow – I’ll need the break.”

“Simple enough.” They both fell to munching on some oatbars and refilling their’s and Rainbow’s flasks in the glassy stream. Rainbow had been gone longer than they’d expected, but given how she was feeling in the underground they weren’t surprised she was taking advantage of the moment like this; plus, they could still occasionally catch glimpses of her up above, so they knew she was safe. 

They were just starting to get impatient, however, when Rainbow landed, sliding on the loose pebbles. 

“There you are!” Twilight sat up, clucking her tongue. “The sun’s practically set!”

“Plenty of light left,” Rainbow waved off her concerns. “And I got some good scouting in, too! We’re gonna want to set up camp about halfway – there’s a rise there with a flattish top that looks perfect.”

Rearing up to get a better look, Twilight could just make out what she guessed was the rise in question, laying not much further downriver. “Can’t we get any closer? I’d rather we enter the next bit as soon as we can come morning.”

“We could, yeah,” Rainbow replied slyly. “But that’s why it’s so good I scouted more! The river oxbows out like mad over there, and the bugs are thick enough I’m surprised I’m not painted in them for how many I hit on my pass through.”

“... eww.”

“That’s why the rise will work!” Rainbow insisted, fluffing out her wings. “Should be high enough and far enough away from them to sleep easy.”

As none of them could argue with a bug-free sleep, they quickly agreed to only going so far for the night. Realistically, they’d only be a few kilometres from the entrance anyways, and with the next part being shorter than the last they should still get through it all before nightfall next – such was their hope, at any rate. 

Getting back in the canoe, they followed Rainbow’s guidance to bring them through the erratic network of crisscrossing streams to join the main river channel. The sun was just beginning to fall behind the mountains when they reached the rise, sitting some dozens of metres off the shore across a short paddock of rock and reedy grass. Just as Rainbow had said, they were perhaps halfway to the next mine some kilometres off. 

“So are there seven of these things, or what?” Rainbow asked as they dragged the canoe well ashore. “‘Cause I’m really not looking forward to six more of them.”

It took Twilight a moment to work out what she meant. “Oh! No – it’s just the mountains that’re called the Seven Mines; we’ve only got the two more to do.”

“Well that’s dumb,” Rainbow said with a scoff. “Should’ve called it Three Mines then, or the Triple Tunnels, or something.”

“That’s not quite how geographical features are named, Dash.”

“Actually, it kind of is,” Squirrel interjected thoughtfully. “I mean, Nestle’s nestled in the hills, right? And Calendar has a big calendar in it.”

“Lame.”

Squirrel waved her off. “It’s more impressive than it sounds.”

“Well what about Hurricanum, then? There’re no hurricanes just idling in the city centre,” Twilight countered, unable to resist. “And Thistle didn’t have any... oh, wait.”

Rainbow chuffed, setting the last of her gear over back as they set off across the field. “See? Should totally be called Three Mines.”

“There’re probably more mines scattered throughout the range,” Twilight insisted, thinking back as best she could to her little-labeled maps. “Although given its size, seven would probably be underselling it.”

“The Hundred-Mine Mountains?” Squirrel suggested.

Twilight shook her head, quietly enjoying herself. “And what if there were one-hundred-and-one? Or ninety-nine? It would be misleading.”

“The same problem we currently have, yes – I see your point.”

They continued chattering even as they climbed the rise – a massive boulder, easily a hundred paces across, and ascending nearly half that in height. Setting up their tents was awkward considering the rounded, knurled ground, but while there didn’t seem to be any mosquitos up here, none of them were much inclined to take the chance and camp without. 

As they set about getting a small fire going with the errant bits of tinder they’d picked up along the way – just long enough to get some tea going – Twilight found herself staring off into the south. From here she could make out the yawning mouth of the tunnel, like an inky stain on the darkening cliff face. In Rainbow’s own words the entrance had crumbled, with great slabs of granite flaked off to lie in heaps all about the place. The river still flowed through, however, and the fallen segments looked old – that a clear route through remained still seemed likely. 

Certainly Twilight wasn’t looking forward to finding out there wasn’t – she had no intention of adding ‘mountaineering’ to her growing list of skills. Tearing her gaze away, she turned back to the sputtering flames and the little collapsible pot perched on a pair of stones above. 

“I still can’t believe you thought to buy some back in Beech,” Squirrel muttered, sifting through her own packs while Rainbow busied herself blowing on the budding embers.

“Why not?” Rainbow answered indignantly between breaths. “Tea’s like water, but better!”

They stayed up a little later, but with the fire out and night falling they found their conversations stifled. Not wanting to discharge any of their shards, they muttered their goodnights and retired to their tents, full of cautious optimism for the morrow.
> Chapter 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It looks like it’s frowning,” Rainbow muttered glumly. Their canoe drifted along in the surprisingly swift current, carrying them right to the tunnel’s mouth; even the early morning light shining on it did little to make it more appealing. 

She swatted futilely at the swarm of mosquitos insistently buzzing around her before readjusting her scarf – every time she tried to speak it sagged a little lower, and she had no interest whatsoever in having it fall off her muzzle. Her ears ached from having them continually flattened down to keep the insects out – her scarf just wasn’t quite long enough to wrap around everything. “This sucks.”

“At least it’s not the swamps again,” came Twilight’s muffled voice from where she sat huddled against the bow, curled up to expose as little fur as possible. “These ones are just annoying.”

“Reeeally annoying,” Rainbow said, picking up her oar to dig it deep into the water, propelling them forwards. “Let’s just get inside already.” She wasn’t particularly looking forward to spending who-knows-how-long underground again, but at this point she was up for anything that wasn’t bug-ridden. 

Apart from being partially-collapsed, the entrance looked about what she’d expected – dark, grey, and foreboding. Quite foreboding, in fact. The rotting clusters she could see laying just inside weren’t helping things, either. 

“Hold up,” Twilight said as they passed into the mine, propping her oar against a grainy wall to stop them. The canoe rocked as she carefully stood to peer up at one of the fetid growths. From where Rainbow sat, she thought they looked a bit like bulbs, or flowers with their petals closed. 

Twilight’s horn lit up as she prodded at one too high to reach. It crumbled like brittle ceramic, sending a little cloud of brownish dust rising into the air.

“... well, I certainly didn’t expect that,” Twilight mumbled, waving away the reddish cloud.

“Sooo not a monster’s egg, then?” Rainbow guessed hesitantly, uncertain if she was pleased by that or not – while the fight in the woods may’ve been a great deal more frightening than she’d care to admit, encountering mysterious cave-monsters eventually just made sense to her. 

“Just some sort of plant, I think,” Twilight said, sitting back down heavily. “Might be seasonal? I know there’re some species of mushroom that’ll puff up like this to release spores before fading away a few days later.”

Rainbow nodded along sagely. “So what you’re saying is, there’s a good chance that there’re mushroom-people up ahead.”

“Yes, Rainbow – I definitely just said that.”

“Oh, good,” Rainbow smiled as the current caught them back up, carrying them further inside. “I’d hate for this to be boring.”





More clumps of dead-looking maybe-mushrooms lined the ledges carved or broken into the stone either side. Behind them, the spot of daylight slowly dwindled as the entranceway pinched down into a single wide, squat tunnel. Unlike the last part, the roof here was arched and jagged, as though it had suffered a partial collapse years ago. The water was deep, cold, and black. 

Squirrel leaned back from her usual place in the stern, content to rest while the current carried them steadily on. She shook her head sharply to rid herself of the few drops of water running down her mane and muzzle from the omnipresent dripping above. They passed more faded scrawl on the walls, though thus far it hadn’t seemed necessary to pay it any heed – what few side-passages they’d seen so far were thoroughly blocked up, the rocks and scree covered in fluffy blankets of dead or dying moss. Another of the odd, little mushroom things crumbled to dust as Rainbow gave it a curious poke with her oar.

The air reeked of cinnamon. 

Twilight lit up the tunnel around them as the last of the sunlight faded behind. This time her faery lights were a warm orange – rather like peaches – and only illuminated a few metres around them. “Any reason for the colour change?” Squirrel asked, hoping a bit of chatter would help calm her nerves. “Was whiter last time.”

“Need to save the energy,” Twilight replied, tugging down her scarf as she stared suspiciously at the walls. “We’ll want to swap off with shards in a hour or so.”

“Mmhmm,” Squirrel agreed, following her gaze; even the walls here were mottled, covered by the dried skeins of long-dead lichen. If it wasn’t for the graffiti she’d wonder if they hadn’t taken the wrong path altogether. 

At length the broken, arched roof – up until now hanging barely a foot above their heads – rose up abruptly, disappearing as they cruised into a cavernous, branching room. She dug her oar into the water – it only just reached the ground – to try and bring them to a stop. “Deep here,” she muttered, suddenly aware of just how bad capsizing would be right now. The sound of running water echoing sharply off the walls did little to help her apprehension.

“No kidding,” Rainbow said, her gaze darting about in the orange gloom. “Which way, do ya think?” The darkness seemed deeper off to their left, while a small, wood-buttressed passage lay dead ahead of them.

Naught but the gentle sounds of plinking in the distance answered her, as they all fell to glancing at each other uncertainly. The canoe spun in slow circles, caught as it was in some persistent eddy; every half-turn passed them under a frigid rivulet that would beat a tattoo upon the hull. Finally, Twilight spoke.

“Well, let’s think about this logically for a second,” she began, the lights around her glowing more brightly. “Mines have a purpose, right?”

“... yes?” Squirrel answered, flinching as they passed under the stream again, the water splashing right across her head. 

“Right! Locate the ore and extract it with the minimal amount of fuss. Sooo this whole thing should really just be a series of exploratory tunnels – with the successful ones ending in mined-out chambers – and a main road for the railcarts.”

“And an elevator,” Rainbow corrected her, a quiver of anxiety in her voice. “You gotta have an elevator for the villain to fall down later.”

“Probably chutes then, too,” Twilight continued, mussing her mane contemplatively. “To drop the ore from higher sections to the collection sites.”

“Not like you could break it or anything, sure,” Rainbow shrugged, switching her gaze skywards. “You saying that we’re under one of those? That we gotta go up?”

“Maybe? I just mean that it’s got to be a great deal of work to dig these tunnels – I can’t imagine the miners wasting any time doing anything that wasn’t strictly necessary. Yesterday’s section was fairly straightforward – we followed the excavation tracks through a tool-storage site and later a checkpoint. The main problem I’m seeing here is...”

“No rails,” Squirrel frowned. “So we’re not on the main track through. This could just end up deadending at some mined-out chamber, then, couldn’t it.”

“We need to find the tracks,” Twilight said, sounding more confident than she probably felt. “Because I sure can’t see any more cavesign.” Sure enough, she’d lit her lights up enough to see a good ways down either path. Lines of water dripped steadily off the roof or ran down minute stalactites – any scrawl that may’ve once been on the walls will have long since been washed away, or simply covered over with moss. “Luckily it’s a straight-shot back if we want to turn around,” she added in a mutter, staring out at the plantlife. 

“Wouldn’t’ve thought that kind of stuff could grow without sunlight,” Rainbow said, her pack rustling as she pulled out a flask. “Twi?”

In response, the lights dimmed so low as to be nearly extinguished. Squirrel strained her eyes into the darkness, figuring there must be a point to this, when... there! “Above,” she whispered, gesturing futilely to a lighter spot in the gloom. “Off to the right.” Twisting her head this way and that, the greyish patch far above stayed stationary – it wasn’t just a trick of her eyes. “A crack going to the surface, maybe?”

“Enough light could bounce down here for the plants,” Twilight breathed out from the bow. “When the sun’s in the right position, at least.” Her horn glowed as she relit her lights, revealing the flooded cavern once more. “This place is in rough shape.”

“Definitely gonna be monsters here,” Rainbow said eagerly, her gaze still fixed above. “A falling-apart mine with shafts of sunlight and weird crumbly plant-things all around? Finally! This is what we came here for, Twi!”

“I thought you two came here ‘cause Twilight’s a shut-in?”

Rainbow waved away her question. “Well sure, that too. But also this!”

“Right,” Twilight cut her off indignantly. “Improbable adventures aside, which way are we going? Because I imagine the smaller one’s not leading to daylight.”

Rainbow chuffed, readying her oar. “Well, why even ask then? Let’s get going!” Unanimously, they steered the canoe away from the little buttressed passage and down the wider path. With no obstructions – and a slow current to help as well – they made swift progress, but even after some minutes rowing they still hadn’t seen any sign of markings on the walls, while above, the drip had gotten drastically worse.

“It’s like it’s raining!” Rainbow called out over the noise, ruffling her wings to shake the droplets off. “We’re not sinking, are we? ‘Cause I think I could fly with all the room here, but you two would have to swim!”

Squirrel stamped a hoof on the bottom, hard enough to feel a few stray drops splash up to strike her face. “‘Bout an inch or so – we’re fine for now!” She paused in her rowing to peer once more over the side. “Still can’t see the bottom!”

“Reassuring, as always,” Twilight drawled, barely heard, as her lights flared brightly. Though they could see much further down the tunnel, there was still no land in sight – the mossy walls and falling rain simply carried on as far as the eyes could tell. 

The lights dimmed again, returning to their feeble glow. Exchanging looks, they all began to row a little harder. 

In time, the walls became more jagged and angular as the passage increasingly came to look less like a mine and more like a natural cavern. The dripping continued, but more quietly now, the noise muffled by the space. “Spooky,” Rainbow muttered, sounding almost pleased. “Wonder how far this goes on for?”

No one had any answer to that as they carried on deeper into the mountains, the current beneath them steadily picking up pace. Finally – it must’ve been a full quarter-hour later – they noticed a change in the tunnel, as the gloom above them started to glow a dull orange. 

“It’s the roof!” Twilight exclaimed after staring at it for a few moments. “It must be getting low enough to bounce some light back.” Sure enough, it wasn’t long before they could make out the tips of stalactites pointing down at them. The further on they went, the closer the ceiling became, now so near Squirrel suspected she could touch it if she reached up as far as she could. 

“We, uhh, we have a plan for this, right?” Squirrel’s gaze darted left and right, looking for any sort of side passage – at this rate, they’d hit a deadend soon. “Because this is definitely one of those roads you mentioned, right?”

“It – it must be flooded,” Twilight said uncertainly, her lights spreading out around them with a wave of her hoof. “There’s still a strong current though.”

“Which is bad if we can’t fight it! How long have we been travelling down this thing anyways!? We can’t row all that way back!” She was suddenly starting to panic as she realized there was no clear way out of this. She dug her oar in to try and fight the current, but to no effect.

With the renewed brightness, they could all clearly see just how low the ceiling had become; Rainbow began fidgeting heavily in the claustrophobic air, her breathing audible even over their speech. Somewhere in the darkness far ahead she thought she could make out a spot blacker than the rest, with a smudge of white about its base. “Is that a branch there!” Squirrel shouted, voice cracking before she forced herself to take a slow, deep breath to try and regain her centre.

“I don’t see anything!” Twilight called back. “I think we should turn back now – before this current gets even worse!”

“Won’t make it,” Rainbow spat out, staring hawkishly ahead of them. “There’s a path on the right – might go up. We should go for that.” Her wings flared out and down, giving a couple of jerky flaps that sprayed mist all about them before she retracted them with visible effort. 

“I don’t see it...”

“My eyes are better than yours!” Rainbow snapped, slapping her oar against the gunwale. 

“We must be moving at a trot by now,” Squirrel added, looking around at the walls passing by them. “I say we go on.”

Twilight hesitated again, clearly caught in two minds about this, before nodding. “Right,” she said, her voice quavering faintly. “Right. Let’s go on then – we’ll need to move faster than the water if we want to gain any sense of control.”

By now even Twilight could make out the large t-junction ahead, so fast were they moving. They aimed straight for it, far more intent on making the turn period than on whether or not they’d capsize when they did. Just have to hope for the best, Squirrel thought to herself, hunching down. 

They reached the passage suddenly, their bow plunging down into the eddy swirling at the junction before piercing back up as they rose out the far side, the canoe pitching sideways in the still-roiling waters. Their oars scrambled frantically in a desperate attempt to keep them from rolling as they fought the weight of their now-sopping clothes. The froth of mixing streams butted and crashed against them as they stabilized just in time to scrape against rock – whether wall, ground, or rubble Squirrel couldn’t hope to tell. 

Several harrowing moments later they were able to even out as the stream around them calmed, though what state they were in she didn’t know – it was dark as pitch around her. 

She hacked and shivered in the cold. “I-is –” she spluttered out weakly. “Is everyone alright?”

A high-pitched whine answered her, followed by a bout of coughing. “Yes,” Twilight eventually said, her voice hoarse and barely audible over the hissing river. “I’m fine. Dash?”

There was the sound of spitting. “This sucks.”

Twilight let out a sigh of relief. “Good, good,” she mumbled as a light blossomed in the darkness, growing until they were once again warmly lit. 

They looked an absolute mess. Both Twilight and Rainbow’s manes were skewed and mussed about, while Rainbow’s feathers were poking up at odd angles; their jackets hung heavily off their sopping frames. Squirrel doubted she looked much better. The canoe itself sat low, half-filled with water, their gear scattered about, but, at a glance, at least all there. 

The ceiling here was close, but blessedly didn’t seem to be angled any lower; likewise, the water was fairly calm, with no current to speak of bar a scattering of whitecaps. Behind them, they could just make out the churning of the junction. 

No one spoke again for several minutes as they caught their breathes, sifting around their packs to see if anything was missing. Squirrel half-heartedly detached her pan and began bailing out the boat. Twilight soon joined her, pot in hoof. “W-we should get going f-fast,” she chattered. “We n-need to dry off.”

Rainbow grunted, poking them both back to their thwarts, her own oar already out, its blade hovering over the water. “We can get a fire going once we find somewhere dry,” she said, shooting Twilight a worried glance. “Right? We can switch to the shards after that.”

Twilight nodded. “I c-can do that; definitely too tired to l-light us afterwards, th-though.”

They rowed on, meandering left and right as they found it difficult to coordinate their strokes through all the shivering. They could barely make out anything more than a few lengths ahead of them, and while the ceiling didn’t seem to be getting any lower, it wasn’t getting any higher, either.

At length, however, the cut of the stone started to change once again, moving away from the natural angles and back to straight and regular lines. “Hey, look!” Rainbow said, pointing a wing towards a smudgy shape on one of the walls, just a few feet under the water. “It’s a lamp!”

Squirrel leaned over to squint at the blur and, sure enough, so it was – a stained glass bulb with an off-white lump at its bottom. “That must mean the water’s getting more shallow, right?” she asked, hope colouring her voice. “They wouldn’t keep it too high off the ground, after all.”

“Totally!” Rainbow agreed, still staring down at the long-defunct shard. 

It wasn’t long before Squirrel could just barely make out the silt-covered ground, now only a couple of metres below them. Her tail started swishing again, eager as she was to finally be somewhere shallow enough that her hooves could touch the bottom. She barely even noticed when they cruised right into another t-junction.

“Hold up!” Twilight called over her shoulder as they dug in their oars, bringing them to the closest thing to a halt they could muster. The waters here were calm, and still fairly shallow.

“Now where are we?” Rainbow groaned, frustrated as she stared out into the darkness. The tunnel ran crosswise to the previous, and was far wider to boot, with the current being just strong enough that they had to fight to keep the canoe from drifting downstream. There wasn’t much to see in the gloom, but what did catch their eyes was the small mound of scree that looked to have run off from the far wall. 

They hurriedly paddled their canoe over, its keel scraping on the rubble as they dug into the minute beach. Twilight scrambled out, hooves sinking and sliding over the loose pebbles, her horn glowing all the brighter as she cast whatever spell she had in mind. While Squirrel and Rainbow set about dragging the boat further on land – it would be absolutely miserable to have it drift away now – a warm, ruddy ball of heat and light formed with a faint, ringing sound. After several seconds the noise faded away as the orb gave one final pulse before seeming to settle in on itself.

All the other lights winked out, leaving them with only the ball to guide them. They quickly rejoined Twilight and huddled down next to her in the warmth. To Squirrel it felt like she was basking in the sun – the urge to doze felt almost overwhelming as she lay down limply next to it, tailing flicking contentedly. “Muuuch better,” she sighed. 

Rainbow grunted her agreement, doffing her sopping jacket and scarf to plop down next to Twilight. Getting the impression they were in for a decent break, Squirrel copied her, setting her clothes aside to dry while Twilight followed suit. 

After that, it was back to cozying up to the heat. 





Rainbow fluffed out a wing and draped it over Twilight’s back, hoping to keep her warm. Given the amount of heat radiating off the orb it was probably unnecessary, but she didn’t feel like taking any chances. She rolled her neck, trying to think of something cheerful to say. “Sooo,” she said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the oppressive dark. “This is kinda, umm... fun.”

Twilight snorted.

“Well, you know! It’s like camping,” she insisted. “On a cloudy night – that’s why there’s no stars or moon, you see.”

“Pretty fancy campfire here, then,” Squirrel said from where she lay, tail still flicking about happily. “It’s all magical.”

Rainbow stuck out a hoof, giving the orb a swift poke. It was hot – like a mug of tea – and felt like honey, but without all the stickiness. “It is kinda fancy, isn’t it? What is it, anyways, Twi?”

Twilight gave an exasperated sigh. “Okay, firstly, you’re not supposed to touch static arrays you’re not familiar with, Dash – I’m more than a little certain I’ve told you that before. Secondly, it doesn’t really have a name – or maybe it has a lot depending on where you are? It’s too basic and widespread, really.” She gave a half-hearted shrug. “It’s warm – that’s the important bit.”

Rainbow scoffed. “Well that’s no fun – it’s not very dramatic, is it?”

“It’s not a very dramatic spell, either,” Twilight said, giving another shrug. 

“I guess,” Rainbow hedged – it certainly seemed pretty cool to her, although their current situation may’ve had something to do with that; still though – a fancy name would be best. “How about the sun? It sure looks like a mini one.”

“I... think that name’s already taken.”

“Warmth?”

“Nah – too vague.”

“Sparkle’s sparkling ball of campfire?”

Twilight elbowed her in the ribs. “I think nameless might be best, here.”

“Suit yourself.” Rainbow yawned wide enough to crack her jaw. Suddenly feeling far too tired to carry on the banter, she settled down, muzzle on her hooves, to doze. 





Rainbow wasn’t certain how much time had passed since she’d first closed her eyes, but it seemed like no time at all before she felt herself getting shaken awake. “Up you get, Dash,” Twilight said, prodding her side. “We’ve spent more than enough time here, and there’s a ways to go yet.”

Rainbow grumbled, but sat up with a quick stretch. With how much everything did end up reminding her of camping she’d been able to relax enough for a nap, but now she remembered exactly where she was. 

She shook her head and gave her wings a roll as she scrambled around for her panniers. The other two were busy quietly planning their next move, but as in so far as Rainbow was concerned there was only one way to go – downstream – she didn’t bother joining in. Finding her canteens, she wandered the few paces over to top them off after drinking her fill. 

There was a rasping of gravel as Twilight stepped up next to her, already wearing her jacket and gear. “They’re dry now,” she said, refilling her own flasks; a few loose pebbles rolled down into the murky depths below her glugging canteen. “I’d guess it’s been at least an hour – it’s hard to tell down here.”

Rainbow stared up into the endless black above. “No kidding. Can’t you tell from how tired you are? You held that ball-thing the whole time.”

Twilight hummed, nudging Rainbow back towards her gear. “It takes too little energy to maintain. Let’s get going though – I don’t want to risk us still being in here when it gets dark outside.” Not least because they wouldn’t see the exit even if they were to paddle right past it. 

Rainbow stepped back towards the light, taking one last moment to relish its warmth before donning her jacket and scarf, and tossing her flank-satchels in the canoe. 

Squirrel was fiddling with something in her hooves; a light flared up before rapidly dimming down enough for her make out a brightly glowing stone nestled snuggled in the crook of her pastern. 

“Oh! Right,” Rainbow said, reaching up to rummage through the satchel she’d kept on her neck for one of her own faery shards – she’d completely forgotten they’d need to light the way with them from now on. Finding it, she concentrated, imagining the same lightning-jolt feeling she got whenever she beat her wings for takeoff or wrought clouds for weather. With a flash her own lit up to glow a perfect white – just like Squirrel’s. 

Unfortunately, a problem just occurred to her. “Sooo how are we doing this?” she began, the shard still cradled in her hooves. “‘Cause I can’t exactly row like this.”

“... oh.” Twilight blushed, looking flustered. “We could, umm...”

“Nah, I got it,” Squirrel interrupted her. “You two got scarves, right? So we just tie one down to the bow, and the other to stern – should still be bright enough to see by, even through the gauze.”

Rainbow shrugged, but unraveled her scarf and got to work. There wasn’t exactly anything to tie it down to, per se, but she figured she’d give it a solid effort anyways.

It didn’t take long for the problem to become apparent. “It just won’t stay on!” Twilight complained behind her, tossing aside her scarf in disgust. “We’re not even moving and it just slips out!”

Rainbow looked down at her own failed efforts with a huff. “Well, why not just do this then,” she said, dragging Squirrel’s sleeping bag over to the stern and plopping her shard roughly atop it. “There. Done.”

And it more-or-less was. Twilight fully abandoned her own attempts to attach the shard like some sort of ship’s lantern, and instead just propped her gear near the bow and set the stone in a little dent on top. It didn’t illuminate things particularly well like this – Rainbow doubted they’d be able to see more than a couple metres ahead of them with any clarity – but they were both more than a little annoyed with the effort by now.

The slopes of the scree were too steep to wade the canoe out, even just a few steps, so instead they set the stern right on the edge, bow out over the water. From here, Twilight and Rainbow clambered carefully aboard, the orb extinguishing behind them as they did. Once they were as securely seated as they could be, Squirrel gave it one final push and hopped in, the little island fading behind them rapidly in the ghostly light. The canoe rocked worryingly side-to-side as they all hunkered down low to try and tame it. Sure enough, they quickly evened out. 

Oars back in hoof, they found they’d drifted back near the tunnel they’d come in through, the slow current running out buffeting them just as slowly away again. With that to help orient themselves, they angled back downstream and carefully began rowing. 

“So if I remember rightly from earlier,” Twilight began, her oar held out in front of them as a probing ward against anything they might bump into. “This tunnel looked to run at least a hundred metres straight before turning sharply.”

“I think I saw some light at the end of it,” Rainbow added, squinting out to where she thought the tunnel ended in the hopes of seeing it again. “On the left; can’t see it now, though.”

“I saw it too,” Twilight nodded, her oar bumping up against a heavily rusted cart, its top just barely rising above the surface; she gave it a gentle push to guide them around it. “We’ll have to keep an eye out for it. Once we get to about where I think it was, if we still can’t see it, we can find a place to stop and cover up these shards – they’re messing up out nightvision far more than my lights were.”

“Can’t be helped,” Squirrel said, nudging the one at her elbow. “Wish we had some mirrors to point them forward, though.”

Twilight looked like she about to say something before shaking her head. “Pity my pot’s blackened.”

“Ah, well.”





They took care to keep the leftmost wall in sight, little more than a metre off to the side; they’d drifted early on into the centre – where the current was strongest – but found themselves almost immediately disoriented with not a single landmark in sight. 

They’d fallen to silence during the long creep down the river, ears and eyes strained for any sudden obstacle that might appear, or sound of minute streams running through cracks and fissures in the wall that might signal their way out. It felt like ages had passed – so unwilling were they to go any faster than a crawl – when a welcoming glint of light flickered in the distance. 

“Got something,” Squirrel muttered, sitting up and craning her neck for a better look. “Definitely light.”

“Should we just keep going straight? Left side or right?” Twilight asked, trying her best to make it out – with how much shorter she and Rainbow were than Squirrel, she was little surprised the diminutive unicorn couldn’t see it herself.

“Looks more on the left.” The slivers of light were constant now, spilling in from somewhere out of sight. It wasn’t long before the others could make them out too. They crept closer to the bend, thin sunrays now visible in the omnipresent dust that had been hovering in the air, leaving a chalky taste on the tongue for some time now. 

“There!” Twilight called out excitedly as the bow rounded the bend. A moment later Squirrel saw it herself – the ceiling here was riven, a great, jagged crack running lengthways down the tunnel; whereas the part they were in now was harshly and barely lit, further down was wreathed in a dim, yellowy glow. At the far end the river turned again – rightwards – but where it bent scaffolding rose out of the water, building up to some sort of loading platform.

“Finally.” Squirrel breathed out a sigh of relief – land was in sight. 

“Yep,” Twilight agreed, her head on a swivel as she took in their surroundings. “Pretty, too.” The walls here were decorated with creeping vines, themselves bedecked in little purple flowers; ferns grew from countless ledges broken into the rock. Somewhat unsettlingly, clusters of the odd egg-shaped things grew all about the platform ahead. 

“Mushrooms are back,” Rainbow muttered. “They look... I don’t know, fresher?” 

Squirrel couldn’t make them out in anywhere near enough detail to tell that from here, but she hoped that wasn’t as worrisome as it sounded. “Well... mushroom-people would be vegetarians, right? So we’d be safe, right?”

“Most mushroomians would, yes,” Rainbow conceded, turning around to waggle a hoof at Squirrel. “But these ones are carnivores! Pony-eaters! You can totally tell by the colouration of their eggsacks. Plus! –” A splash of water cut her off.

“Right,” Twilight said, oar still dripping as she faced a spluttering Rainbow. “Now’s perhaps not the best time for silliness, Dash.”

“That was cooold, Twiii,” Rainbow whined, rubbing her muzzle into the crook of her elbow. “Now I’ll be too cold to fight off the mooonsters.”

“I’m sure Squirrel and I can manage just fine on our own,” Twilight said primly. “What we should be focusing on is not grounding the canoe – it’s practically shallow enough to get out and walk!”

Squirrel leaned over the side, a smile gracing her features as she saw a small school of tiny fish skittering about in the barrel-high water. “Oh! Good.”

They drifted onwards, enjoying the ambience too much to hurry on. “Those’re periwinkle,” Squirrel said, feeling chatty as she pointing out the flowering vines. “Pretty sure, at least. Ferns are all swords, of course. Not terribly good with fish, but I think these are minnows?” She spied another school of them and nodded. “When in doubt, just call them ‘minnows.’”

“‘Minnows’ it is, then,” Rainbow agreed, head cocked as she stared down at them herself. “Think they taste any good?”

“Eeeeww, Dash!” Twilight giggled, leaning back to give her a playful shove. “Don’t be gross!”

“I meant cooked! Cooked!”

Squirrel leaned back as the other two splashed each other, trying to ignore the odd spray that missed and caught her. The occasional shaft of sunlight they passed under felt warm on her fur as they neared the next bend. Judging by the wood-and-metal crane and lines of shelving, this had indeed been a loading platform of sorts, likely raised up to better get things in and out of the larger vehicles, but now fortuitously keeping it out of the water. 

The odd plant clusters were definitely there, and as Rainbow had said looked far more lively. They still rose like giant flower buds – nearly as tall as she was on her hinds, she suspected – but their leaves were a pale green, and fringed in pink. They had an oily glisten, as well as a ruddy, mottled dusting about their peaks. The scent of cinnamon hung all the more strongly in the breeze.

“Anyone see a ladder or something?” Squirrel asked – she didn’t particularly like the idea of climbing up all those rotted beams.

The other two gave up on their splashing and turned back to the platform. “No...” Twilight said. “But does it even matter? We should be following the river, after all.”

“‘Does it even matter’!?” Rainbow exclaimed, aghast. “Of course it does! We can’t not investigate the egg thingies!”

“She’s right,” Squirrel agreed. “That’s just not how things are done.” As much as she hated the idea of climbing up there and delaying their exit all the longer, poking the unicorn was just too much fun. “We can tie up the canoe easily enough.”

Twilight sighed, but didn’t argue. “Fine, fine – but let’s make this quick.”

As they drifted up to the scaffold’s base they got their first chance to see down the next bend. Like the current section, it was covered in plants and bathed in light pouring in from the ceiling. Still more light came in through a great gash in the wall, set at the top of a mound of scree nearly big enough to block the tunnel. The river burbled as it rushed through the narrow space between rubble and wall. “Well,” Twilight said as she visibly relaxed. “I suppose there’s an exit there; it’s still daylight too.”

“That’s the spirit!” Rainbow agreed, perking up noticeably as she tied them off to a mossy piling. She reared up, canoe rocking dangerously beneath her, and stared up at the platform a couple metres above. “Sooo,” she said, hooves braced against the wood. “How’re we doing this?”

Squirrel wasn’t entirely certain of that herself. “Could use the crossbeams?” she suggested, bobbing her head towards the supporting ‘x’. “Might work. Pity we don’t have paws.” Demigryphs really had it easy, climbing things like that. “Or talons, for that matter.”

“Claws would be cheating,” Rainbow waved her off as she tugged the canoe athwart the cross, shucking her jacket and scarf as the others did much the same. “We got this.”

She leapt up and scrambled onto the diagonal beam, a leg shooting out to brace against the stone wall. Not pausing for breath, she began scrabbling up and around the upper beam, hooves sliding slightly on the moss. After a few decidedly awkward-looking moments, she managed to haul herself up onto the crux. “Easy!” she puffed, looking quite proud of herself.

Twilight stared up at her skeptically. “Uh huh.”

“Super –” she huffed – “super easy!”

“Uuuh huh,” Twilight drawled. “Okay, I can see Squirrel managing this, but I doubt I can.”

Squirrel couldn’t help but agree. While Rainbow continued trying to work her way to the top, she looked around at what they had to work with. “Got it!” she said, spying what should hopefully work. “We can use the crane!” Despite its age and the conditions it was in, it did seem sturdy by Squirrel’s reckoning, so there shouldn’t really be a problem. 

“... no.”

“Aw, come on! It’ll lift you up, easy!”

“Yeah, Twi!” Rainbow called down as she heaved herself onto the top. She whisked out of sight before her head came back into view, looking down at them. “Squirrel and me’ll get you up, no problem! That thing could probably lift you ten times over.”

Twilight glanced hesitantly at the crane. “I don’t know... the last thing I went up in in Avalon came crashing down again.”

“Pffft!” Rainbow rolled her eyes. “You still going on about that? That was ages ago!”

“... it was last week.”

“Same difference,” she shrugged. “Airships aside, all the other stuff here seems built well enough. Besiiides, if it fails, you’ll just end up in the water! It’s super safe.”

“Definitely,” Squirrel agreed. “The safest.”

Twilight sighed slowly, but relented. “Alright, fine. But! You –” she jabbed a hoof at Squirrel – “need to get up there first.”

“Fair enough.” Squirrel walked the length of the canoe, bracing herself against the same piling Rainbow had. It looked simple enough – she’d seen the route done once already, after all. With a little hop she heaved herself onto the first beam, sliding only a little before her chipped hooves dug into the wood. Swinging limberly around, she climbed onto the first crux; from there, it was simple enough to pull herself onto the crossbeam above, onto the next crux, and finally, the top.

“Nice,” Squirrel muttered, pleased with herself for managing that without falling off. She stepped away from the edge – even shorter drops gave her vertigo – and took a good look at the platform. 

There wasn’t really much to say about it – it was maybe twenty feet deep and twice that wide, with ruined, empty shelving lining the walls, and junk littering the floor. Plantlife grew scattered about in the sunlight, while a triplet of those odd clusters grew hither and thither out of the rotted wood. There were a pair of dark tunnels leading further in, too, but there’d be time enough for that later.

The crane sat at the far end. She and Rainbow clopped over to it, while below Twilight could be heard untying the canoe and pulling herself alongside. It looked an awful lot like the simple dockside ones Squirrel’d seen countless times before, and probably functioned like one too. “It’s just a big, straight lever,” she said, talking loudly enough for Twilight to easily hear her. “The butt’s attached to that thing around those gears, see? So we just turn the cranks to rotate everything, wind the rope, and so forth; as long as nothing’s jammed we should be good.”

“Give it a turn, first!” Twilight called up to them. “I’m not trusting myself to that if it’s just going to fall right over the instant you touch it!”

Squirrel looked over it as best she could. “Rope looks good, if a bit green, and the iron’s not too rusty.” She beckoned Rainbow over as together they reared up to try giving one of the cranks a turn. It held fast for a moment before giving way with a grinding crunch; beside them, the crane rotated slowly widdershins. “Well, it’s not rust-welded! So there’s that.”

“Oh, goody,” Twilight sighed up at them. “Well, fine then – let’s get this over with.”

They rotated the crane back and gave the other two cranks a try to make sure everything was a go before spooling out the rope. “You two are lucky my pannier-harness is so well made,” she grumbled as she tied the loose end around the straps about her withers. 

“Equus’ finest, eh?” Squirrel said with a grunt, as she and Rainbow began pulling the annoyed unicorn up. 

“Better than anything I’ve seen around here,” Twilight wheezed out as she came into view. 

As much as Squirrel wanted to snip at her for that, she was finding it hard enough not to just break out laughing instead – the way Twilight was limply dangling from the rope made her look for all the world like a wet cat held up to the light. “Lookatchyu!” she snorted. “Whosa pretty kitty!”

Twilight wiggled ineffectually at her. “Swat her for me, Dash.”

Unfortunately, Rainbow seemed to be far too giggly herself to bother. “Aww, cheer up Twi! You’re nearly there!” It was the work of a minute to rotate the crane a touch and lower her down to the platform. 

“Not doing that again,” she muttered, untying herself and throwing the rope away in disgust. She rolled her shoulders and shook herself before stamping up to Squirrel and giving her a poke in the chest. “And I’m not a kitty!”

“Uh huh,” Squirrel smiled, gently swatting away her hoof. “Certainly not.”

Twilight grumbled some more, but turned her attention away and back to the platform. “So!” she began before heading over to the nearest of the clusters. She paused next to one nearly the height of her withers and gave it a tentative sniff; she recoiled, grimacing. “Definitely the source of that scent.”

Squirrel joined her and gave them a more discerning look. The things varied in size, with some but a few inches tall; likewise, while some glistened with life, others were dry and shriveled, or broken up entirely. Far more worrisome though was that couldn’t feel a single one of them – not even the clearly living ones. “Maaaybe don’t stick your muzzle quite so close, Twilight,” she said, backing away slowly. “I can’t sense a thing from these things.”

Twilight’s ears shot up. “Ah,” she said, cautiously doing much the same. “Sooo maybe we turn around and leave then?”

“Yup.”

“Hold on – wait,” Rainbow said, eyes darting between them and the clusters. “What’s wrong?”

“Earth pony,” Squirrel said quietly, not taking her eyes off the things. “If there’s a plant within a dozen paces, I’ll know it – always.”

“And?”

“And I ain’t feeling a thing from these.”

A look of confusion hung on Rainbow’s face for a moment before her eyes widened. “Ah.” She started backing away alongside them. “So we’re leaving now, right? Before the monster eggs hatch, right?”

“Right,” Twilight agreed, as they reached the platform’s edge. She turned to look down at the water below, glanced back at the almost-certainly-eggs, and back to the water again. “See you at the bottom!” she shouted as she leapt straight off. 

“Uhh,” Squirrel said, nonplussed – she really hadn’t expected that of her. There was a rustle as, beside her, Rainbow flared her wings to glide much more elegantly down. Not at all liking the idea of being up here all by herself, Squirrel spied a spot that looked reasonably deep, and leapt. 

The water was cold as she splashed down, her hooves grazing the silty bottom. Flailing for a moment from the shock of it, she quickly regained control and started paddling towards the canoe just in time to see Rainbow lightly touch against a pile, all four hooves bracing midair against its side before kicking off to land gently in the boat. 

Ignoring how impressive that was, Squirrel swam over to the piling Twilight was clinging onto; with a bit of help, Twilight was able to climb up the scaffolding just far enough to step onto the canoe while Squirrel waited in the chilly water, happy that here at least it was shallow enough she could just barely stand up on the bottom. “Let’s hurry over to the exit,” she said, jerking her head downriver to the great, sunny hole in the wall. “I’ll swim.”

“You sure?” Rainbow asked, despite already unmooring the canoe. 

Squirrel waved her off as best she could. “Yeah – it’s faster and the water’s refreshing; plus, I’m really worried we might’ve somehow woken something up.” She leaned back, slipping under the water; righting herself, she started swimming towards the light without waiting for a response. 

It wasn’t long before she could hear the heavy splashing of oars behind her. The canoe quickly appeared alongside her as the other two kept pace, careful not to go too fast and leave her behind; luckily, Squirrel was a decent swimmer, so it wasn’t really necessary, but she appreciated the thought nonetheless. 

“We probably could’ve waited,” Twilight said, her sopping mane plastered to her head. “If you need a break, just grab the boat.”

“I’m good,” Squirrel spluttered out – it was hard to speak while swimming. “It’s practically too shallow to swim here, anyways.” Which was true – her hooves kept clipping the gravelly ground this close to the mound.

Even with the current it was still some minutes before they got to the base of the scree; to the left, through a thin channel between rubble and wall, ran the river, the sound of the rushing water loud in their ears. She waded onto shore, water sloughing off her, as the canoe beached up next to her. Briskly shaking herself, she turned to pull the boat fully ashore. 

Rainbow practically flew out to help her. “Why didn’t you say they were monsters!?” she grunted as they tugged. “We passed, like, dozens of them on the way in!”

“Well, they were dead, weren’t they?” Squirrel shot her an annoyed look. “It’s harder when they’re dead; plus, there were plenty of plants all over the place there! And I wasn’t even looking for anything strange, anyways.” She stopped to catch her breath – the swim had gotten tiring towards the end. 

The sound of shifting gravel stole their attention – Twilight had stepped out of the canoe, looking warily back at the platform. “Dash – do you think you could fly up to the opening? Scrambling up this slope’ll be a huge waste of time if it doesn’t actually go anywhere.”

Rainbow frowned sharply at Squirrel before nodding and backing off to find a good place to take flight. 

“I think we’ve travelled far enough that this should be the far side of the range,” Twilight said, watching as Rainbow flew past, gained a little bit of height, and darted right for the opening. “I’m just worried that this hole stares out of a cliffside or something.”

“Makes sense.” Squirrel shuffled awkwardly as they waited, shooting odd glances at Twilight. “You know, I really didn’t think there was anything off about the buds – with so much moss and stuff all over the place, everything feels painted in plantlife.” She didn’t really know why she was trying to apologize – it was just that, what with being the earth pony here, she felt like it was somehow her job to notice things like this.

Twilight gave her a soft shoulder-bump. “Hey, it’s fine; I can’t claim to know what that particular kind of magic’s like – at least, not in practice – but it’s not as though anybody could blame you for somehow missing it.” She shifted to squint up at their maybe-exit. “Rainbow’s just upset.”

Squirrel nodded along glumly. “These tunnels are rather gloomy, aren’t they? Doesn’t help that wherever we end up tonight’ll probably covered in mosquitos.”

“Ugh – I’d forgotten about that.”

“On the plus side, they can’t really get through our fur...”

Twilight snorted. “Sure, but eyes and ears? You were as covered up as us back at the entrance.”

“I was just commiserating,” Squirrel insisted. “Didn’t want you two to feel awkward.”

“Uh huh.”

Before Squirrel could say anything more, a shout rang down from above. “Hey!” Rainbow called down to them. “It’s no good here, but I can see the exit right ahead!” She disappeared from view only to reappear a moment later, wings wide as she glided down to them. She landed noisily upon the scree, pebbles spraying as her hooves dug in, before practically skipping over to join them. “Almost there!” she repeated, smiling widely.

“Wonderful!” Twilight smiled back, tail swishing. “Let’s get the canoe across, then!”

“Any idea what time it is, Rainbow?” Squirrel asked. 

“Sun’s still up, but not by much,” Rainbow shrugged, gesturing her to the bow. “We’ll make it out before dark. Now – let’s carry this thing across.” 

They heaved the canoe overhead, intent on carting it to the calmer waters on the far side of the collapse. Taking their time to avoid turning an ankle on the loose ground, they soon arrived to see the tunnel barely continued on at all before hooking again sharply to the left; this time, however, the dim glow of daylight was unmistakable. 

Squirrel’s heart lightened momentarily before she remembered just what was next. “Two down, one to go,” she muttered, wilting. “Just one day left after this. Hopefully.”

“S’long as there’re no monsters, it’ll be fiiine,” Rainbow assured her they waded out a touch to set the canoe splashing down beside them. “First tunnel had no monster eggs, after all – it probably just affects the even-numbered bits.”

“There is way too much confidence in your voice considering what you just said,” Twilight said, rolling her eyes fondly. 

“Checks out to me, though,” Squirrel shrugged, returning to the stern as the other two clambered in. “We’ll just have to avoid exploring any other mines afterwards, is all.”

Squirrel hopped in afterwards, her momentum carrying the canoe away from shore. The current was just strong enough that they didn’t particularly need to oar, so Squirrel took the moment to simply slump in her seat and relax. Whatever those apparently-abandoned eggs came from was hopefully not going to be any problem to them. She didn’t exactly have anything tangible to back that hope up, of course, but she quietly hoped it nonetheless. 

“So,” she began, feeling cheerful as they neared the bend. “What’s the plan once you two get back to Hurricanum, then?”

“Shower,” Twilight answered without any hesitation.

“Nap,” Rainbow countered before second-guessing herself. “Wait – no. Shower first – then nap.”

“Umm... very practical,” Squirrel conceded. “But not quite what I meant.”

“Two naps?”

“I meant reporting in or going home or something.”

“Well, obviously we’re doing that,” Twilight said, waving a hoof dismissively. “Probably going back to Equus pretty soon, too? Maybe?” She paused, tapping her hoof against the gunwale in thought. “Remember we’re mostly here just for the experience – we’re not handling anything official or the like; the group we came with does, mind you, but we’re really just tagalongs by another name.”

“Because your friend made you.”

“Still need to throw her off a bridge for all this, yes.”

“Right...” Squirrel drawled. “Well, if you do end up hanging around for a while, I could show you two around the place? I’ll need to hop on a convoy to get back home again, after all, and it’ll definitely end up passing through some of the major cities along the way.” She didn’t really know why she was making such an offer, considering how rough things had been since Cherry Point; maybe she just wanted the company? It was going to be kind of a boring trip back, otherwise. 

“Uhh, don’t take this the wrong way or anything,” Rainbow said hesitantly, fidgeting in her seat. “But as guides go you’ve kinda sucked.”

“Hey!” Squirrel said, indignant. “I’ve been a perfect guide! Remember the swamp?”

“I remember getting lost in it.”

Now Squirrel started fidgeting. “How about Nestle, then? Got you there safe and sound, and,” she tapped the hull emphatically. “And I’m pretty sure I helped out in Beech. Probably. And I definitely said we shouldn’t take these monster-filled mines, so there’s that, too.”

“True,” Twilight said, choosing that moment to chime in. “But we’d’ve gotten to Nestle if we just followed the river south, which we would’ve done anyways. We didn’t exactly do anything in Beech; plus, I’m not certain you can count ‘I told you so’ as meaningfully guiding us.”

“Ouch,” Squirrel winced – sure, it was true all right, but did she need to just come out and say it? “Alright, fine; but can I at least get bonus points for not charging you?”

“Oh! Definitely.”

Squirrel sighed. “Better than nothing, I suppose.”

“Don’t feel bad!” Rainbow said, leaning back to give her a friendly bump. “I’m sure you’ll find someone to get horribly lost with on your way back.”

“Gee, thanks,” Squirrel muttered, feeling oddly dejected by all this.

She was saved from any more teasing when they rounded the bend, a wave of sunlight greeting them from the massive exit ahead. Squirrel whistled appreciatively – it must’ve been a dozen metres wide, and probably even taller still if it wasn’t for all the water. “I guess we’ve only been seeing the little side-entrances before now.”

“Looks likely,” Twilight agreed. They were still too far away to make out anything through the brightness, so they were cautious as they paddled their way forwards – it wouldn’t do to go through all this just to row straight off a waterfall. Wincing as they quickly transitioned into the light, Squirrel blinked rapidly as she took in their surroundings. 

It was another bog.

“Dangit,” Rainbow grumbled over the humming of insects. “Not another one!”

Squirrel looked at her, nonplussed. “You were flying around out here literally twenty minutes ago.”

“I’d hoped it’d changed since then...”

“Unwarranted optimism aside, Dash, did you happen to see somewhere decent to set up camp? Sun’s almost behind the mountains,” Twilight said, waving out vaguely into the tall reeds all about them. “Somewhere less buggy?”

“Nah,” Rainbow said, grimly wrapping her scarf around her head. “We’re doomed.”

Squirrel didn’t really like the idea of trying to sleep whilst getting slowly nibbled to the bone all night. “I don’t suppose we could backtrack a ways? That mound we were on was clear.”

As one, all three of them looked back over their withers at the tunnel mouth and the visible current pouring out of it. “We could try,” Twilight said, “but I’m worried about how much time that’ll add to tomorrow – we don’t know how long the final bit’ll take.”

“Also: monsters.”

“Yes, I suppose there’s that, too; same problem with the next section, come to think of it.”

The canoe slowly spun in circles as they held their position, thinking out their next step. “I hate to say this,” Twilight said, “but my vote’s for going on – the sooner we go in tomorrow, the sooner we’re out.”

“It’s not that far...” Rainbow tried, wings flashing out as she was already swatting at errant bugs. Not for the first time Squirrel was quietly pleased with her thicker fur. 

Twilight shook her head doubtfully. “It looks like it’s at least an hour’s row to the next bit; I really think we should get as close as we can, today.” She shot Squirrel a look, hoping for some help, but Squirrel just shrugged ambivalently.

“I’d offer my advice, but apparently I’m an awful guide.” It annoyed her to no end when Twilight just gave her an understanding nod in reply. 

Rainbow let out a whiny groan. “Fiiine,” she pouted. “Let’s just – ugh – let’s just do this, then.”

“Thanks, Dash!” Twilight smiled, completely ignoring Rainbow’s grumbling as she plunged her oar back in the water. “We’ll be there before you know it!”

Once they got back on course they hurriedly pulled up their oars to busy themselves covering up as best they could. Soon, scarves covered muzzles, jackets were buttoned up to the collar, and in Squirrel’s case, her well-worn touque was pulled down as low as it could go. “So what’re things like up ahead,” she asked. 

“No real side-rivers or anything,” Rainbow answered, her voice muffled by her scarf. “It’ll branch a little ways ahead – s’long as we keep to the right, we’re good.”

“And the other branch? That’s the one that goes back to the Wither, isn’t it?”

“Yeah; pity we couldn’t take it getting here.”

“Spending an entire day rowing upriver would’ve been a nightmare. I suppose it is our last chance to bail and just walk the Coriander instead, though.” If they hung the coming left they’d soon find themselves at the northern tip of the range ahead; from there, they could neatly swoop around to greet the Coriander on the far side. Of course, the fact that it was unmanageable for such a small craft meant they couldn’t canoe it, but a part of Squirrel still favoured the safe – though lengthy – hike alongside. “Would get to Hurricanum in, oh I don’t know, maybe three days? If we pushed? No eggs or anything.”

“You tried this back in Nestle, Squirrel,” Twilight chided her. “Actually, hold on – didn’t you say you would’ve taken us through the mines if you were with us anyways? Because I’m pretty sure I remember you saying that.”

“Yeees, but I kind of thought they’d be... grander? Brighter? Friendlier?” That sounded more than a touch naive, even to her. “Sorry – I think Drizzle’s mines spoiled me.”

The branch was near enough for them to spot it through thin patches in the reeds. “The ones in Canterlot are nicer than these, too,” Twilight said absently, her attention focused on the fork. “So we’re sticking to the right?”

“Seems that way.”

“Yep.”

They passed by the fork, the path they were on narrowing noticeably once they did. With the speed they were now getting, Squirrel could feel the faintest of breezes on her face; it didn’t quite counter how sweaty and itchy she was, but it was better than nothing. 

The sun had dipped behind the mountains, leaving them in shade. Despite the coming night, Rainbow had been right – there wasn’t anywhere around worth camping on. “I suppose we could sleep on the canoe,” Twilight mused as the mine came ever nearer. “Although it might be rather cramped.”

“That or flatten down the reeds?” Rainbow half-suggested as she frowned at the muddy banks. “Nowhere looks good to take off or land on, so I doubt I can look around for anything before dark.”

“Let’s just see what the entrance is like – if it’s big enough and clear, we might be able to find somewhere cool and bug-free just inside,” Twilight insisted.

They paddled harder, abandoning their languid pace, as they hoped to get to the entrance before it became too dark to see. Before long they were able to round the final bend and make out the mine for the first time up close.

The entrance was wide and low – just like the last exit. The current slowed dramatically as the water pooled in front and well of to the sides of it, as a jagged line of rubble blocked much of the entrance, clearly shorn off from the equally-jagged roof. From where they sat, it resembled nothing more or less than a great, cavernous maw. 

“How inviting,” Squirrel muttered to herself. 

“At least there aren’t any egg-clusters about,” Twilight noted, her head on a swivel as she looked around. “Let’s get closer – I’ll cast some light in there and we’ll see what we’ve got.”

They aimed the canoe for one of the ‘teeth,’ butting up against the cobble-sized scree at its base. As much as Squirrel didn’t care for the idea of sleeping inside this thing – even just a little ways – the cooler air pouring out of it felt wonderful.

Twilight’s horn lit up as a ball of light flew forth into the cavern. The interior was vast and flooded; a small, equipment-filled alcove lay to the right, while the room itself trailed off into the darkness. “Another main tunnel, from the looks of it.”

“Should be safe to follow, then,” Squirrel agreed, squinting around for any signs of eggs; bar a general coating of moss and minute ferns, she didn’t see any. 

The ball darted left and right, thoroughly scouring the entrance. “Probably a small tunnel is what we’ll be looking for on the far side – I’d expect this main one to zigzag up and down the mountain.”

“We could always follow it up, then?” Rainbow suggested. “If we need to? Wouldn’t need the canoe anymore, right?”

Twilight gave her a funny look. “There’s still a major river left, Dash, and we can hardly swim it.”

“I thought you said there was a walking path? We’ll be practically at the city once we get through the mountain, right? So it’s a short walk.”

“Oh,” Squirrel said, realizing the problem. “The path’s on the other side of the river. There’s probably a bridge or ford or something somewhere along the line, but I don’t know where it would be.”

“Ah, shoot,” Rainbow wilted. “Carrying the boat down the mountain’ll suck.”

“Hence the small tunnel,” Twilight said. “So what do you girls think? It looks like there’re some flat areas in there we could camp on.”

Squirrel took another look around. There were a few flat spots – more loading platforms? – along the wall nearest the alcove. She also couldn’t make out much in the way of bugs, being presumably too put-off by the cold. “I don’t know,” she dithered nevertheless. 

“Oh, come on!” Rainbow snapped impatiently. “The exit’s right here and there isn’t anywhere else to go! If a bunch of monsters show up, we’ll just run back out into the open. Where would we even put the boat, anyways?” She waved an arm expansively. “It’s all just mud and reeds!”

She wasn’t wrong about that – aside from where they were right now, there wasn’t anywhere they could hope to pull the canoe up high enough to keep it from drifting away with them in it; for that matter, it would probably just drift right back to where they were now. “I guess you’re right... the time to sleep somewhere elsehas kind of passed us by.”

“Then let’s gooo!” They dislodged themselves just enough to get caught back up in the current and pulled inside. Following the glowing light, they paddled across the wide chamber, wedging themselves in a nook between two of the platforms. Carefully clambering out, they moored the canoe as best they could, tying it down with ropes looped around little boulders littering the place. 

“Well,” Squirrel said, looking uneasily around them as the day slowly dimmed outside. “I suppose we should be safe here.”

“No bugs, either,” Rainbow added, unraveling her scarf with a happy sigh. She reached into one of her satchels and pulled out a faery shard, lighting it as she did. 

Twilight dropped her own, brighter light once she had. “Thanks. Let’s get set up for bed – I’m beat.”

They quickly pulled out their sleeping bags – extra proof against whatever stray bugs that happened to buzz on over, to say nothing of a ward against the surprisingly chill air – but figured there was no point to the tents in here. It wasn’t long then before Squirrel had crawled into her own bag, twisted such that she could get back out in a hurry; behind her, she could hear Rainbow fidgeting around, doing the same. 

Despite her worries about what may be lurking further in, it wasn’t long before she fell into an uneasy sleep.
> Chapter 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

Twilight awoke, shivering gently in the dawn chill, to the gentle susurrus of running water. She’d curled up into a tight ball in her sleep, leaving her feeling more than a little stiff as she stretched out. Judging by the soft light outside, it was just before sunrise. 

She briefly entertained the idea of lying in for a while, but banished it just as quickly. Crawling out of her sleeping bag, she stepped over to the rocky platform’s edge, to a point where it was tilted low enough to dip below the surface, and splashed the frigid water over her face.

There was grumbling behind her – it seemed she wasn’t the only one awake. She crossed back to give Rainbow a poke. “Up you get,” she said, her voice echoing throughout the cavern. 

“Nnnno.”

Twilight poked her again. “One day left, Dash.” Unless we get lost, she added silently to herself. “Up.”

Rainbow made a great show of squirming and whining before finally giving up with a huff. “Fiiine,” she groaned, pulling herself out and plodding drowsily to the water’s edge. Squirrel was yawning widely as she watched them. “You too,” Twilight added for good measure.

“Mmm,” Squirrel blinked languidly at her as she went to join Rainbow. 

It wasn’t long after that they’d packed everything back up and into the canoe, jackets and scarves once again donned against the cold. In the interest of keeping her strength up as long as possible, they decided to continue using a pair of their scant shards to light the way, saving her light-spell for emergencies or vast areas. 

The canoe barely swayed as they boarded. “Alright,” Twilight began once she’d settled into her usual spot at the bow. “Are we all good to go? Not forgetting anything?”

“Nah,” Squirrel said, exchanging a glance with Rainbow. “We’re good; let’s get this done.’

“Right. Slow and steady, and if anyone sees anything even vaguely egg-like: holler.” With a push of her oar she propelled them out and away from the landing, the canoe bobbing on the surface before getting caught back up in the current. From here, the shards were too dim to make anything out around them; if it wasn’t for the lit entrance right behind them, they could’ve been floating in an endless sea. 

“Hopefully things narrow up ahead,” Twilight mumbled to herself before speaking up. “Let’s get closer to one of the walls – we’ll never know if we’re even moving otherwise.”

It was simple enough to get within a few lengths of the rough, chalky stone, and get a sense of movement as it slowly drifted past. The passage carried on unerringly, even as the daylight behind became little more than a small, brilliant blob in the distance.

“No moss,” Squirrel whispered, her voice sounding loud in the dead air. “Or anything, really.”

Twilight grunted softly. “Unsurprising – I’m getting the feeling this section was a little more professionally done.”

“Still got flooded, though.”

“River might’ve changed course?” Twilight mused. 

“Maybe.”

Twilight tried to think of something else to say – the quiet was starting to bother her – when her attention was suddenly caught by the sight of thick bundles of cables running at the far edge of the gloom above. “Wonder what they needed that much power for,” she said, gesturing up at them. “You don’t often see them at that gauge.”

“Big around as my arm, I think,” Squirrel agreed, craning her neck to look up at them herself. “Maybe they charged stuff off waterfalls?”

Twilight shrugged. “Haven’t seen any falls yet; not inconceivable though.” It didn’t sound quite right to her, however. It hardly mattered though – a good part of her attention was still being quietly focused on keeping an eye on Rainbow. The mare was doing just fine this close to the entrance, but Twilight was nonetheless worried. Experience made it abundantly clear, however, that saying anything would be the wrong thing to do. 

The tunnel continued on straight and unerring. It was still much too wide for them to make out the far wall – something that made them all a little uneasy. The minutes passed slowly. 

“I think it’s narrowing or something,” Rainbow said after a tense, dreary period, as she leaned over the side and squinted across the passage. “Seeing bits and pieces of lighter spots, at least.”

Twilight looked, but couldn’t make out anything herself; still, she’d rely on Rainbow’s eyes over her’s any day. “About time, then,” she muttered. “If it wasn’t for the wall here, I’d swear we were stuck in place.” The entrance lingered as a dot, far in the distance. 

It wasn’t much longer before all three of them could make out shapes in the dark. Curious as to what was there, Twilight picked up one of the shards in her magic and levitated it out over the water. What had looked at first like mottling – a patchwork of lighter spots and dark – across the stone, soon resolved itself into something considerably more worrying.

They were holes.

Neat, tidy circles – large enough to crawl through – were bored into the far wall, their recesses dark as ink. Chalky gouges outlined more than a few of them. 

“Well that’s... umm...” Twilight found herself at a loss. “Shoot.”

“Not good?”

“Yes – that sounds about right, Dash.”

“Sooo we’re turning around, then, right?” Squirrel asked, hope evident in her voice. “Because there aren’t any monsters on the long way around, right?”

“We’re doing this, Squirrel,” Twilight insisted sternly – at this point, she just wanted this whole thing to be done with, spookiness or not. “A few ancient-looking holes shouldn’t send us packing.”

Squirrel pointed to some more dried-out egg-husks, just coming into sight ahead. “Well, what about those?”

“... they also look ancient. We’ll be fine.” 

Squirrel fell off muttering to herself, but didn’t complain anymore. A part of Twilight wished she would – she’d’ve given in and tried to turn around if the mare had insisted stoutly enough, but she could hardly admit her misgivings now. She pulled the shard back, settling it into place as the holes slowly faded back into darkness, taking their husk-ridden ledges and crannies with them.

They continued on uneasily, jumping at every perceived crack or thump around them. With their ears so sharpened to any slight noise, they heard, long before they saw, the churning of water ahead. 

“I think it’s another blockage,” Rainbow said, head cocked to the side. “Sounds like it, anyways.”

That was worrying – with the complete lack of cave-scrawl, the presence of a cave-in could mean this passage was completely unpassable. “I hope we don’t actually have to turn around...”

“The current was never really going to let us,” Squirrel said. “By the time we noticed the holes we’d been going for, what, half-an-hour? More?” Time passed strangely down here. 

Twilight hunched down grimly. “Well, then – through it is.”





The waters rippled around them as they held position, little whitecaps dancing across the surface. The river flowed through rapids made of great chunks of fallen rock, their tips just poking out of the water, stretching as far down the tunnel as Twilight’s light could go. No side-passages lay anywhere in sight. 

She canceled her spell, sighing glumly as she did. “Any ideas?”

Rainbow grunted as she and Squirrel tried to keep them braced on one of the few boulders safely away from the sucking current. “Go back?”

“The current hasn’t gotten any easier.” It had, in fact, gotten significantly worse, here where the water was so much shallower; it didn’t help either that none of the three were particularly well-built for paddling so hard for so long, to say nothing of how tiring the past few days had been on them.

“Then I guess we’re hoofin’ it,” Rainbow said, finally managing to wedge her oar in just so to keep them steady. She slumped in relief, huffing as she stared over the rapids. “We’re not taking the canoe with us over that, mind you.”

“I could always levitate it a ways; we’ll want to scout it on hoof first, though.” Most of the rocks sat high enough above the water to give them purchase; luckily, lichen didn’t seem wont to grow this far from light, so they wouldn’t be nearly as treacherous as they would be above ground. 

“Could go ahead?” Rainbow offered. “Tie one of the shards to my head or something?”

“We should stay together,” Squirrel argued. “Safer that way.”

That was something Twilight could agree with. “In case you slip; plus, we’ll have all the lights together that way.”

Rainbow nodded easily, looking relieved that they’d be coming with. “Let’s get the boat out, then.” She plucked out her jammed oar, letting them drift towards the rapids. 

They aimed themselves for a fairly dense-looking clump of boulders that they’d hopefully be able to walk across. Bumping up roughly against them, Squirrel jammed her own oar into place well enough to get them stuck, letting Rainbow and Twilight make their slow, precarious way onto the rocks. Standing with legs splayed across multiple stones, they grabbed ahold of the canoe as Squirrel made her own way out, before together they tugged it into a thin channel, too narrow for the coursing water to pull all the way through. After some thought, they decided to leave their gear behind as well – the weight would only make the next bit harder. 

Creeping across the stones themselves was... disconcerting, Twilight decided. Their spacing was utterly irregular, as were their heights – some stood as far up as she was tall, whereas others could just barely be made out beneath the surface, covered in coppery slime. 

“Deadend here!” Squirrel called out from across the passage – there was no real path over the rapids, forcing them to just pick a direction and go until they couldn’t anymore. After the first few deadends, they decided to split up – though still keeping close – to try and save some time. “Give me a sec – I’m coming back.”

While Squirrel backtracked, Twilight tried to figure out if there was any point continuing her own line – the next little section was definitely going to involve crossing some slick-looking underwater stones. “Same,” she eventually replied, deciding it wasn’t worth the risk. “Dash?”

“Still good!” Rainbow called back over the hissing streams, several lengths ahead. Twilight turned around and made her own circuitous route to join up with her, taking care not to jostle Squirrel beside her. 

Catching up, they followed Rainbow closely, their dual lights – tied carefully about Rainbow and Squirrel’s necks – lighting their way just enough to make out a few metres around. Shadows danced in every direction as they slowly made progress, the canoe long since lost to sight behind them. 

“I’m surprised the whole thing didn’t just cave in,” Twilight wondered, glancing up at the jagged, crumbled ceiling. “With how long this collapsed section is, we’re quite lucky this is passable at all.”

“Don’t jinx it!” Rainbow scowled, ears splaying back. 

“If it’s held this long, it’ll hold another day,” Squirrel assured her, bobbing her head forwards as she did. “Besides – what’s that?”

Ahead, spots of light sliced through the gloom, flickering off the water. Resisting the urge to hurry their pace, it was still some minutes before they could see where it was coming from – on their right was a large side-passage, a pair of great, crooked doors barring entrance. A shaft of light shone through a crack between them. 

“Daylight!” Rainbow exclaimed gleefully, practically trotting as she made her way to the door.

“Oh, for – be careful Dash!” Twilight half-shouted in exasperation. “A way out’ll do us little good if you turn an ankle!”

“I’m fiiine,” Rainbow waved off her concerns. Reaching the door, she reared up and gave it a shove. “Stuck,” she said, slapping a hoof against it. “Squirrel!”

Squirrel was shaking her head before she even got there. “No good – look at the bottom.”

Twilight was so taken at the thought of getting out so soon she hadn’t even noticed it herself – the base of the door was covered in rubble, bent inwards with the pressure. It was going nowhere. 

“I don’t think we’re going to get that open,” Squirrel continued. “Can we fit through the top?” The ceiling had cracked above the door as well, leaving what looked like a gap big enough to fit through, if barely.

Rainbow hopped in place, trying to reach it. “Too high – let me stand on you.”

Squirrel snorted. “On this terrain? Not a chance.”

“Girls,” Twilight cut in, hoping to head anything off. “It wouldn’t matter anyways – even if Squirrel boosted us both over, she couldn’t get over herself.”

“Could magic me up?”

Twilight shook her head. “No good – remember?”

“Oh – yeah,” Squirrel wilted.

“Oof,” Rainbow agreed. 

They stood around quietly, occasionally staring through the crack or off into the distance as they tried to think of some way through. As near as Twilight could tell, there really was only one option available – carry on down the tunnel – but she was loathe to leave their little spot of daylight. Stepping back up to the hoof-sized crack, she peered through it again at the waystation on the far side. It looked like a secondary entrance, with a small checkpoint and lockable door. While their eyes were far too dark-adjusted to make out anything through the glare, the way everything was set made it clear it was exactly what they were looking for – a real exit. 

She tried not to focus too hard on the eggs oozing gently in one of the corners – they could always run past them, after all. 

“Wait!” Rainbow exclaimed, her wings flaring out. “Wait, wait, wait! I got it!” She pranced excitedly in place.

“Well, go on!” Twilight gave her a soft little headbutt. “Tell us!”

“Right, right, right – so we go back for the canoe, right?” She began. “Drag it over here and prop it up. Squirrel can climb up it then, right?”

“Probably,” Squirrel agreed. “Could pile up rubble too, assuming we can even all fit through the gap in the first place.”

“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” Rainbow frowned, before perking back up. “But the canoe gets us over, right? But we still need the dumb thing for the river, so we find some, like, old timber or something and force the door open!”

“I didn’t see any timber...” Twilight trailed off, putting her eye against the crack again. “Anything wooden in there has rotted to just about nothing in all the water; plus, those eggs are far too lively-looking for there not to be a parent somewhere.” The only reason she wasn’t bothered about them right now was that anything that could birth something that big couldn’t possibly fit through the crack to get to them.

“Ah, but here’s the kicker,” Rainbow continued, looking especially pleased with herself. “If one of those monsters comes along while we’re prying away, we just run outside!”

Twilight stared at her as the seconds ticked by. “And?” she finally asked.

“Well, it’s not like they can follow!” Rainbow said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “The sunlight’ll burn them!”

“... I feel like I’m missing something here.”

“Think about it!” Rainbow insisted. “We’ve only ever seen them underground, right? In dimly lit areas? So clearly they can’t do the sun! The ones near the second part’s entrance were all burnt up, too!”

“Dried up, I think,” Twilight muttered, as she tried to decide if Rainbow was brilliant or insane. “I suppose they could be sensitive to sunlight...”

“Ha! I’m right! Knew it,” Rainbow preened. 

It wasn’t anything like a perfect plan – might not even have been a good one – but it would give them something to do that wasn’t just moping around the jammed door, and Twilight still absolutely hated the idea of abandoning this exit and carrying on. “Alright – I vote we try it.”

“Two-to-one!” Rainbow cut in before Squirrel could say anything. “Majority wins!”

Squirrel huffed, rolling her eyes. “I’m game for it too, you know.”

“Alriiight!”





The walk back seemed to take no time at all. “Right,” Twilight said, assessing the canoe. “I’ll levitate it in stages; let’s get everything out of it first.”

They took their time getting their gear back on and secured, straps well-tightened to avoid anything shifting on the way back. Once they were ready, Twilight gripped the canoe in her magic, grunting faintly as she moved it forwards over the rocks and settled it carefully down at the edge of the shard-light. Not for the first time did she curse the weight of the thing – the sturdiness might be terrific considering how rough they’d been with it, but it sure did make carrying it a pain. 

The journey back to the door felt like ages, with Twilight only able to comfortably shuffle the canoe several metres at a time, being both far too unwilling to set it down somewhere she couldn’t clearly make out, and equally unwilling to try and navigate the slippery stones while she carried it. 

She was, however, quietly pleased that neither of them complained about her pace.

Eventually the doorway and its beckoning slivers of light appeared once again before them. Taking the final few steps with the same care she’d taken with the first, she nestled the canoe down between a pair of rounded boulders right next to the doors. Still breathing deeply, she splashed some cold water on her face from one of the wider rivulets before giving herself a brisk shake. “Finally,” she muttered in relief.

“And we’re almost out!” Rainbow said to the sound of dull clunking. Turning away from the water, she saw the other two clumsily trying to wrest the canoe into place. 

Well, it’s stout enough, Twilight figured, deciding to just let them go at it. She couldn’t help but wince every time it fell over, though.

After a few more minutes fiddling they managed to partially prop it up against the door – with a little deftness Squirrel should be able to scramble up it far enough to get a grip on the lintel and through the gap above it. “Aaand done!” Rainbow said, giving it a slap for good measure. “Now just give me a moment to get on the brace and I’ll pull you up!”

With the lintel as low as it was, this took little more than a standing leap and a great deal of fluttering, her wings thumping hard enough to blow strands of Twilight’s sopping mane all other the place, to say nothing of everyone’s tails. Coughing in the thin cloud of dust she’d kicked up, Twilight stepped over to where Rainbow was now blinking owlishly down at her.

“Sorry about that,” Rainbow apologized sheepishly. “Didn’t think there’d be so much.”

“It’s fine,” Twilight said, rearing up beside the canoe and giving Squirrel an expectant look. 

“You’re lucky my pack’s so thick,” Squirrel grumbled as she tried to find someplace to brace her hooves. Although the other two had reluctantly left their gear on this side of the door – they’d just be too thick and heavy otherwise – Squirrel’d kept hers on, just for this. 

“It’s kinda tight up here,” Rainbow continued as she watched Twilight struggle to stand on Squirrel’s back. “But there’s a bunch of junk piled against the door on this side – I’m standing on some of it now. Should be easy enough to pull you up.”

By now Twilight was standing flat-bellied against the door, her hinds on a clearly-irritated Squirrel’s back and panniers. “Pull her up already!” Squirrel grunted out. 

Twilight blindly thrust a hoof upwards, too busy trying to stay upright to lean back and look. Rainbow’s hoof clapped into her own, pasterns linking well enough to heave her up. Scrambling, she threw her other arm up, getting a grip over the lintel; her hooves dropped out beneath her for just a few moments before she found herself getting shoved bodily upwards. With a wheeze, she managed to pull herself up, straddling the wood before hastily turning to tuck herself in beside Rainbow, her hinds finding the stack of junk.

“How are you so bad at that!?” Squirrel gasped out from below. “You only needed to hop the last few inches!”

“You were an unstable base! I could’ve fallen at any moment!” 

“You were fine,” Squirrel said with a roll of her eyes. “Now scoot! I’ll show you how it’s done.”

Rainbow ducked down, noisily climbing down the stack. Twilight sidled over to her spot to give Squirrel some room, but still wanted to see how she’d manage it.

Once she’d doffed her gear, Squirrel reared up alongside the canoe before kicking off of it with enough force to jerk it to the side. She gained more than enough height to clasp onto the lintel and pull herself up; turning neatly on the wooden beam, she plunked down next to Twilight, looking smug.

“Yes, well, I’m smaller than you, aren’t I?” Twilight pouted, not meeting her eyes as she ducked down to join Rainbow. 

The room they were in now looked pretty much the same as it did through the crack – a flooded floor, close walls, and a little alcove cut in to the side complete with rotted desk. The only thing they hadn’t noticed was a low doorway next to what could’ve once been some shelving. 

Squirrel splashed down beside her as she made her way over, only keeping half an eye on Rainbow as the pegasus wandered towards the far exit and past the clumps of plants and eggs. 

There wasn’t anything even close to salvageable in the mess – certainly nothing stout enough to pry the doors open with. “On that note,” Twilight mumbled to herself, glancing back at the doorway. With the ceiling this side mostly untouched by the collapse, the only thing blocking the doors was the stack of crates and barrels. “It shouldn’t be much trouble to move all that.”

“Probably built up by someone looking to come in this way,” Squirrel said, following her gaze. “Can’t see what else they’d’ve be doing.”

“So they won’t be holding the doors closed... which way do those hinges go?”

“Towards us?” Squirrel half-asked, stepping up to them for a closer look. “Broken and bent to heck, though – doors’ll probably pop right off with enough force.”

“We’ll want to keep clear of them, then,” Twilight hummed to herself. “Means we’ll need a longer pole than I’d hoped.”

“Nothing out here!” Rainbow called back to them from outside. “Nice view though!”

Twilight and Squirrel hurried out to meet her, taking care not to jostle the eggs in passing. They’d gone barely a dozen lengths before they were out, blinking in the harsh light. Once their eyes had adjusted, they found themselves on the slopes of a steep river-valley, an unending mountain range running either side. “The Coriander,” Twilight muttered, heart lifting at the sight. The river was wider than she’d’ve thought, and was filled with countless spots and sections of white, foaming rapids. 

The small entrance they were at was nearly hidden amongst the bushes and trees. “I hope the river is calmer further downstream,” she worried; the mountain face they were on wasn’t sheer – cliffs blocked her view south, downriver.

“I could check it out?” Rainbow asked, giving her a questioning look.

The sky was nearly cloudless, and with the sun where it was it couldn’t be much past noon – plenty of daylight to ward off the creatures yet, if Rainbow’s reasoning was correct. “We’ll wait here,” Twilight nodded, smiling as she looked for somewhere warm to bask in the sun.

She flopped down on a nice, flat stone as Rainbow took off, Squirrel settling down near her. “Finally!” Squirrel sighed. “No more blasted mines.”

“Mmm,” Twilight hummed, not bothering to correct her – they did, after all, still need the canoe.

They lounged quietly for awhile before the sounds of wind-rustled grass was broken by a steady wumphing of wings. Scree shuffled underhoof as Rainbow landed, waking the two mares from their doze. 

“It’s all clear ahead!” Rainbow practically pranced up to them. “Should just be a short walk to somewhere smooth enough for the boat! Or tumble, maybe – it’s kinda steep.”

Twilight sat up, shaking herself awake before responding. “Did you see where the river flows out of here? That was supposed to be where we’d end up, originally.”

In response, Rainbow pointed a hoof far upriver. “Somewhere over there – you can’t see it from here.”

Twilight nodded, satisfied – if they were downriver of that, they should be good. “We just need to find a pry, then.”

“Could knock down one of these trees?” Squirrel asked, glancing around at the hooffull of scrawny pines growing around them. “I’ve still got my hatchet in my pack.”

“Too thick to fit in the gap – we’ll need a metal bar, I think.”

Squirrel simply nodded as the trio ducked back inside the mine, pausing at the threshold while their eyes adjusted before plodding back into the checkpoint. “There was a little side door over here,” Twilight said as she tried to suppress the feelings of ill-ease that had cropped back up since reentering.

“Bit of a squeeze,” Rainbow noted. “Gonna be dark in there, too.”

“Let’s just be careful,” Twilight said, stepping up to the door. She took a deep breath and slowly tried the handle.

It was stuck.

She leaned her weight on it and pushed, but couldn’t get it to budge. Grumbling, she felt a nudge at her shoulder as Squirrel stepped up to her side. 

“Let me try.” Twilight scooched back – there really was very little space back here – to let her give it a go.

Squirrel grunted, wrenching at it as hard as could before, with a crack, the handle snapped clean off. She huffed, throwing it aside to splash heavily in the water still lapping at their cannons. “Rusted to junk. We could kick it down?”

Twilight shot a concerned look at the eggs. “There’s no way that wouldn’t be noisy.”

“We’ve daylight right there,” Rainbow pointed out. “I saw lots of spots we could camp in for the night, too – really far away from the exit and everything.”

“Don’t know where we’d get a pry, otherwise,” Squirrel added. “Heck, for all we know this is just an empty closet and we’re walking the tunnels anyways.”

“I suppose I’m just jumping at shadows, aren’t I?” Twilight said, taking another few steps back to clear some room. 

“We’ll be fine,” Rainbow assured her. 

Turning around, Squirrel braced herself on her fores, hinds raised for a moment before lashing out against the ancient wood; there was a resounding bang as the door juddered and the frame cracked. She reared again and gave it another blow, the frame crumpling completely as the door slammed back, smashing against the wall with another almighty crash, the noise of it echoing well off into the distance. 

The room inside was dark as pitch; even as Squirrel stepped forwards, the shard still around her neck glowing bright, they couldn’t make out the far wall. “Looks like some shelving,” she began, an odd warble to her voice as she backed out of the threshold. “And, uhh, webs? Lots of webs, yeah.”

Twilight didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. 

“Webs!?” Rainbow shouted, sounding equal parts spooked and excited. “These are spider-monsters!?”

“Uh huh,” Squirrel mumbled, still staring off into the dark. “We, uhh... we can walk to Hurricanum from here, right? ‘Cause I can grab our bags from the canoe and we can just walk it, right?”

“Are you kidding!?” Rainbow looked at her, aghast. “We’re practically out! Plus, like, we haven’t even found any treasure! Or at least a souvenir or something.”

It took a few moments for Twilight’s thoughts to reengage. “Hold on – webs?” 

Squirrel didn’t seem too interested in poking her head back in. “I think so?”  

“It’s just... spiders are normally pretty liberal about putting down their webs,” Twilight said, taking a few tentative steps towards the doorway. “We should’ve seen at least somescattered around by now.” Her horn glowed as she cast her lights, sending them throughout the next room.

Squirrel wasn’t entirely wrong – they certainly looked like spider webs. The room ran deep, a pair of doorways at its distant far end; crates and decrepit bunks lay about the place, but of greatest note were the long, ropey strands of... something, running from cracked ceiling to waterlogged floor in wide sprays and clusters.

“I don’t think those are webs...” Twilight trailed off, taking half a step into the room before remembering herself and backing off. “They look a little like vines, or roots, maybe.”

Squirrel squeezed in beside her, poking her own head in. “Looks close enough to me.”

Torn between caution and curiousity, Twilight once again took a half-step into the room. Concentrating her lights around the nearest bundle, she stepped closer. “They definitely seem plant-like,” she noted, thinking aloud. “Or maybe not? They’re quite fibrous.” The cords seemed to run through fissures in the ground before passing into circular holes in the ceiling – the same sort of hole from back in the main tunnel. 

“Are they making these somehow?” she wondered, peering up into the hole. “Or...?” Without thinking, she plucked one of the cords, its twang sounding deep into the darkness above.

A spray of cold water splashed across her back, making her jump. “What are you doing!?” Squirrel hissed at her. “They’ll hear you!”

Blinking, Twilight hurried back out of the room. “I wasn’t thinking! Oh nooo – what if I’ve just called the horde down on us!?” She made to shove past the other two towards the exit. “We should leave!”

Rainbow’s wings flew out to gently batter her back. “Oh no you don’t! A few spider-thingies aren’t enough to stop us!”

“I don’t know, Rainbow,” Squirrel said, still keeping an eye and ear on the doorway. “I’m still all for walking the rest of the way.”

“Oh, don’t be such chickens,” Rainbow scoffed. “Stomping spiders’ll be gross and stuff, sure, but they can’t really hurt us.”

“But what if they’re venomous?” Twilight fretted, still eying the daylight behind.

Rainbow thought about it for a moment. “... I guess we’re walking, then?” She sighed, slumping. “Fiiine, we’ll walk.”

They hurried back outside to the comforting sunlight, the air still just as fresh and open as before. Sitting back down on the warm slab, Twilight tried to gather her thoughts; between the fresh air and the cool breeze, she was finding it much easier to think. “Right,” she began, feeling much calmer now. “Right. I think... I don’t think those came from any animals.” She tapped her hoof contemplatively against the dusty rock. “Too big; probably some sort of, well, vine.” 

“A noisy vine, yeah,” Rainbow snorted. “Did you have to play it like a fiddle?”

“Shush,” Twilight said, fighting a blush. “I got carried away.” She was going to continue, but found her train of thought thoroughly derailed.

“So what’s the plan?” Squirrel finally asked.

“You know, you’re surprisingly deferential for a guide, Squirrel,” Twilight said as she tried to buy some time. She wasn’t displeased by this – just surprised given how sharp the mare had been when first they’d met. 

Squirrel simply shrugged. “Well, it’s all your show now, isn’t it? Since Beech? Doesn’t really feel like my place to take charge here.”

“Fair enough.”

They lapsed back into silence for a minute before Squirrel spoke up again. “That said... what is the plan? Are we grabbing our packs and walking? Or are we, uh, going back into the dark in search of a pry?”

Unfortunately for Twilight, she hadn’t yet come to a conclusion on that. Oh well – when in doubt: democracy. “We could put it to a vote?”

“I vote walking.”

“Exploring! I wanna buck some spiders!”

Aaand democracy fails me. “Well that didn’t help much,” she muttered, checking the position of the sun again. “We’ve still got plenty of daylight; let’s just check out that first room – we’ll be near enough the exit to bolt if we need to.”

Squirrel sighed glumly, but didn’t protest as they headed back inside, Rainbow leading the way. “You know,” Squirrel said as they reached the darkened room. “No one mentioned anything about spider monsters in these mountains.”

“It does sound like something worth mentioning,” Twilight agreed. “Maybe your information’s really out of date?”

Rainbow snorted. “What do you mean, ‘maybe’?”

“What I mean is, no one mentioned anything about those creatures in the woods after Nestle either, did they?” Squirrel’s tail flicked antsily. “It’s just odd, is all.”

They paused at the threshold, Twilight’s lights illuminating the room and vines within. “It is rather odd, now that you mention it.”

“Knew it,” Rainbow said, a smug grin on her face. “The crazy locals really are trying to assassinate us!”

“Says the mare grinning at the prospect.”

“What? It wouldn’t be a real diplomatic mission without at least one murderous plot hatched against us!”

“... you’re crazy.”

Twilight splashed some water at them both. “Rainbow’s questionable sanity aside, I can’t exactly see how some third-party could manage to plant groups of dangerous animals along the way to heckle us, and yet also fail to do something far more effective – like stabbing us in our sleep.”

“Well that got dark fast,” Squirrel frowned. “Maybe your assassins thought sabotaging your airship would be enough?”

“Simple design-incompetence brought it down,” Twilight waved her off. “This is all probably a coincidence.”

“‘Probably’ isn’t a certainty though!” Rainbow insisted, looking giddy at the prospect. “They could even be assassining us as we speak!”

“That’s not – ” Twilight gave a guttural sigh as the pieces slid into place. “You’re teasing us, aren’t you.”

Rainbow giggled, flicking her with her tail. “Took ya long enough! Now let’s get exploring!” She led the way into the room, head on a swivel as she peered into every shadowed corner. 

Twilight hummed as she joined her. “Teasing or not, there’s still the matter of these creatures being where we weren’t warned.”

“Probably just came out of the mountains, or something,” Rainbow said, leaning in to examine one of the vines; she reached out a hoof to touch it before apparently thinking better of it. “Or, I don’t know, it’s one of those things that are so obvious to everybody that nobody bothers saying it? Like, nobody told us it would dark in here or anything.”

Twilight was going to point out how ridiculous not warning people about dangerous animals would be before she noticed Squirrel shifting around guiltily. “Squirrel...” she drawled, narrowing her eyes. “What exactly were you told back in Nestle? About the Whither?”

“Nothing! I mean...” Squirrel squirmed under Twilight’s glare. “The deer I was talking to did say it could be dangerous for just a canoe, but I thought they meant because it was bad ground for camping on! Not that it was full of monsters.”

“And these mines?”

“Well... I didn’t actually ask anyone,” Squirrel admitted. “I figured nothing would’ve changed! Plus, you two got some info back in Nestle, didn’t you? When we separated? I know you mentioned that.”

Twilight slumped, dropping her gaze. “From some mare. She was wrong, it seems.”

“There you have it then,” Squirrel said. “No plot at all.”





The room itself was ultimately unremarkable, with whatever metal there was on the shelving either too thin or too rusted to be of any use to them; likewise, no matter how hard they strained their ears, they couldn’t make out any scuttling or scurrying that would presumably herald any curious creatures come to investigate them. 

Weaving through the stalks, Twilight joined the other two at the far end, where a pair of doorways continued on. 

“Already checked that one,” Rainbow said, bobbing her head towards one of them. “Dead-empty.” The other led down a long, foreboding-looking corridor, littered with more of the fibrous, viney plants. 

“Alriiight,” Twilight frowned into the gloom. “I think... alright, I’m going to drop my light-spell – that way I’ll be ready if I need to cast something else in a hurry.” While the others fiddled with their shards, Twilight busied herself examining the floor ahead for pits in the water – just in case they needed to flee in a hurry. 

Once the shards were lit Twilight dropped her spell, leaving her wreathed in darkness bar for the twin glows at her sides and the glints in the other mares’ eyes. “They’re wearing down,” she frowned, speaking in a hush. “We’ll have to be quick about this.”

“Let’s get going then,” Rainbow whispered back, taking the lead down the corridor, but far more cautiously in the dimmer light than before. 

It felt like ages since they’d entered. The sloshing waters sounded eerily loud as they trudged on, accompanied only by their laboured breaths. Suddenly, a single, sharp clack echoed up at them. They halted, still as statues, ears sharp as they strained to hear anything more. Minutes passed with only the dull, distant plinking of waterdrops in the distance. Exhaling slowly, they carried onwards, all the more cautiously. 

At the front, Rainbow stopped for a moment before awkwardly stepping over a glistening bulge on the path; coming up to it, Twilight had to keep herself from gagging – it looked like little more than a gigantic, shattered crab’s shell, but thinner-looking and blocky. A white-grey mush peeked out from underneath. 

Unwilling to risk touching it, she hopped over it instead, landing back down with a splash. She tensed at the noise, wondering just what in the world they were doing here. Right as she was about to suggest that perhaps they really should just walk the rest of the way, there was a clattering far ahead. 

“Are we stupid?” Squirrel whispered, coming up to her flank. “‘Cause all this feels like a really stupid idea.”

Rainbow crept back to them, a little yellowy light floating in the void. “We’re almost there guys,” she whispered. “Let’s just see what’s in the next room – if it looks too sus, we’ll turn around and go back outside.”

“It’s probably just water dripping up ahead...” Twilight added over the irregular clacking. As much as she didn’t want to press on, a part of her felt like she owed it to Rainbow to try – she’d spent too much of this trip haranguing her friend over this thing or that not to. “It’s a straight sprint back, too.”

Rainbow looked pleasantly surprised by her support. “Yeah! And if there are any spider-things, we just step on them, right? I mean, it’ll be gross and all, but we can do it.”

“Blind them, too,” Twilight muttered, nodding her head onwards. “I can overpower my lights in a pinch.”

Rainbow made a pleased sound as they continued on, the noise growing before them. It wasn’t long before the passage opened up into another room, its contents too far away to make out. Here, the clattering and clacking had resolved itself into a near-continuous chittering. 

They hovered at the threshold, even Rainbow seemingly unwilling to press on. “Lights, maybe?” Squirrel whispered.

Twilight shook her head. “It might just attract attention.”

No one moved. “Well,” Rainbow said, grimacing as she took a half-step forwards. “We came all this way, didn’t we?”

The dim shard still hanging from her neck illuminated countless bits of rubble and clumps of floating junk in the water as she ducked under a thick bundle of sagging vines. Unwilling to let her carry on alone, Twilight hunched her shoulders and joined her, Squirrel following quickly in her wake. 

She flinched at every tickle and sudden noise, as bits of plant like hanging moss brushed against her head. It wasn’t until she’d caught up to Rainbow that she realized, with how much they’d had to step and turn to get around things, she wasn’t entirely certain where the entrance was anymore. 

She took a deep, calming breath before butting her head against Rainbow’s shoulder. “Stop,” she whispered urgently. “Stop! I don’t know where we came in anymore.”

Rainbow froze. “Then what – why are you over here!??” she hissed, worry evident in her voice. “I thought you were back there! With the light!” she added, turning sharply to face Squirrel.

“I didn’t want to be left alone,” Squirrel snapped back at her. “I don’t even want to be in this stupid tunnel! We could be walking right now, but nooo we’ve got to explooore.”

Twilight poked the mare in the ribs. “Not helping, Squirrel. Let’s just head back – I can still light things up properly if we really need to.” She was still hesitant to do so – more than once she thought she’d seen something large flitting about at the edge of the light. 

Rainbow snarled, getting right into the other mare’s face. Before she could say anything, however, something heavy landed on Twilight’s back.

She squealed, instinctively kicking out her hinds and bucking whatever it was off. Her horn flared as she cast her lights as brightly as she could; the sudden glare – as bright as the sun – did little more than blind her in turn, her eyes snapping shut as she lost her concentration, plunging them back into a darkness that seemed all the deeper for it. Her eyes still watering too much to see, she stepped to where she thought Rainbow was, bumping up against her side. A fluffy wing clamped down on her as the chittering and splashing grew in intensity. “This way!” Rainbow seemed to shout into her ear as she felt herself pulled forwards. 

She stumbled almost immediately, only to find herself braced again on her other side as they bumped and ploughed through whatever strange growths filled the chamber. Shaking her head, she tried to regain her sight before a glimmer at her side made her realize she never even lost it – they were just moving so quickly that there was little difference between being blind, and not. 

A deeper darkness yawned before them as they bolted towards it, and into whatever passageway it was. They kept going, tripping and stumbling, as they fled the sounds behind them; soon, though, the noises started to fade, leaving them with little more than their own puffing and the splashing of their hooves to keep them company. “Stop,” Twilight coughed out, still being half-dragged along by the other two. “I can’t – stop.”

They drew to a halt, breathing heavily as they tried to get their bearings. “Well,” Rainbow huffed, taking a long, deep breath. “Fuck.”

“Sounds about right,” Squirrel muttered, pivoting in place as she took in their surroundings. Whatever part of the mine they were now, they were in a small room. Networks of vines hung like haphazardous webs all about the place. A pair of small creatures – too far away to see anything more than that they were barely a hoof high – fled from them along one of the walls, leaping from stone to stone and out of sight. 

Twilight wondered for a moment why she could make them out so clearly before realizing that, hanging from the ceiling in long, fuzzy swathes, were blankets of softly-glowing mosses or lichens. She felt suddenly calmer as she focused on the otherworldly-beauty of it. “Bioluminescence!” she whispered, momentarily forgetting everything else. “I’ve always wanted to study it.” A shoulder-bump jerked her out of her reverie.

“Maybe later, Twi,” Rainbow said, fidgeting slightly. “We should probably try to get out of here, first.”

“Right,” Twilight said, giving her head a shake. Looking around, she saw the room they were in looked like it was once some sort of equipment hub. Judging by the metallic boxes, cylinders, and pipes running along the walls, it was probably a zephyr hub.

Her eyes followed a particularly thick bundling of pipes. “We could follow the pipes,” she suggested, her breath coming back to her. “Those ones there probably go to the main causeway.”

“No canoe,” Squirrel noted. “Don’t think we could swim all the way back to it.”

“Might be more rubble to hop across,” Rainbow countered.

“And it’s better than no plan at all,” Twilight added. She took a few steps towards the corridor the pipes ran down before deviating off to the side. A bundle of newly-burst eggs lay in a clutch near the broken base of some of the gear; hanging around them were a trio of small, soft-bodied bug-like things, looking a bit like four-legged crabs with another, shorter pair near their mouths. “Oh,” was all Twilight could say.

The other two stalked up next to her, their shards better illuminating the creatures. “Those are... those are the same things from the woods, aren’t they?” Squirrel said, head cocked to the side. 

“Baby ones, yeah,” Rainbow agreed, leaning in for a closer look. The creatures skittered back, but didn’t otherwise seem at all threatened. “They don’t look hard, though.”

“Might be too immature,” Twilight mused. “Or they could’ve just undergone a molt? I don’t really know what these things are,” she added, frowning, as she tried her best not to get too distracted by the odd creatures. They looked around the dimly-lit room again, noting several more of the little things skittering about. Despite that the tunnel onwards was similarly lit, the muggy atmosphere in the current made it feel almost cozy – certainly, at least, she was content with waiting a few more minutes before leaving. Stepping up to some of the wirey vines, she scrutinized them as best she could, hoping to learn something useful. “There’s no light down here,” she muttered to herself. “At least, nothing strong enough to feed plants as big as this.” There was simply no way that the glowing mosses could hope to do so. “What are they feeding on, I wonder?”

Unfortunately, scrutiny alone couldn’t answer that. “Maybe they really are roots?” Squirrel suggested, poking at a few herself. “They’re definitely plants – I can feel that – but there’s something almost dim about them.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “That could work; either bored through the stone or wove their way down fissures.” Unlike before, there weren’t any circular holes for them to come through – perhaps it was just a coincidence before? “I suppose it doesn’t really matter, though.” She shook her head, quietly disappointed that she couldn’t afford to look into them further. “What I’m really worried about are these creatures – if this place is full of them, and they’re the same things from the forest, then what are we going to do? I think my light stunned them long enough for us to flee to... wherever we are now, but we can’t exactly count on that to keep working, can we?”

Squirrel snorted. “Seeing as it blinded us as well as them, I’m edging towards a ‘no’; it was just luck that got us out.”

“Mmm,” Twilight dithered, as she tried to figure their way out of this. “Before we go on – we know which door we came in through, right?”

As though reading her mind, Rainbow splashed over to one of the passageways, shoving and piling up some rubble in front of it. “Yup – it’s marked now.”

Twilight smiled in thanks. “And since we know we came in through a very long tunnel, we should be able to backtrack that way.”

“We’ll need your light for that, won’t we?” Squirrel half-asked. “Plus, all those creatures are still in there.”

“Not our first option, no, but it’ll do as a backup. We’ll need to keep track of where we’re going from here on – build some cairns or the like.”

“‘Cairns’ are those stacks of rocks, right? That look like rearing ponies?” Rainbow asked.

“Yep.” Twilight took another long, deep breath. “Well, time’s wasting – shall we continue?” With a couple of nods, they started down the pipe-hung passage, taking care to be light in their steps.
> Chapter 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The tunnel was far shorter than the last, bending harshly to the left after only a few dozen paces. While the hanging carpet of glowing lichens were a blessing for their sight – and their comfort – it was ultimately dual-edged, as the very same growths obscured everything more than a couple lengths in front of them. 

As they rounded the bend, the blocky stone walls changed abruptly into smooth, rounded ones, braced by stout support beams driven deep into the earth; here, the ground raised up just enough to bring them out of the frigid water and back onto dry land. Racks peeked through the lichen, loaded heavily with the thick, cophite-banded piping of zephyr lines, with more still running out of micro-tunnels bored in the walls. Twilight paused to rear up and press an ear against one of them.

“Dead,” she said, falling back to all fours. “Not surprising, mind you.”

“Any stored mana would’ve long since been shuffled out of here,” Squirrel said, nudging her forwards. “Or just faded out altogether.”

“Yeah...” Twilight trailed off. She ducked her head low again, keeping it near enough the ground to see under the shroud of lichen, so it was that when Rainbow suddenly stopped, flicked her tail back at them and fell into a crouch, she could see what it was that alarmed her so.

Scant lengths ahead of them was a large, shelled creature lying against the wall, its long, crab-like limbs curled partially beneath it. At this distance it was unquestionably of the same species as the ones in the woods so many days ago. 

Strangely, despite that it was both alive and hale – and certainly must’ve seen or heard them by now – it was seemingly ignoring them. 

Rainbow scooched back to join them, crouched shoulder to shoulder in the narrow space. “What’s the plan?” she whispered, her eyes glued to the creature. 

“Turn back?” Squirrel suggested. “Those legs look sharp.”

“Those legs are sharp,” Rainbow grimaced. “Any pipes around here? Or rocks?”

While the other two looked around for something to defend themselves with, Twilight was busy trying to place her hoof on just what it was that was bothering her about all this. It knows we’re here, she reasoned, ears folded back as she squinted towards it. I’m certain I saw it shuffle. It’s not running, or signaling, or...

“Hold up,” Twilight interrupted the other two. “The ones in the woods didn’t do anything to us until we got near that entrance, remember? Under the fallen tree?” They nodded while she continued muttering to herself, trying to marshal her thoughts. “It knows we’re here, but doesn’t seem to care. Maybe...” She trailed off again before taking a steadying breath and standing a bit straighter. “Hey!” she shouted. “Hello!”

Rainbow hissed in agitation, prodding her in the side; the creature, meanwhile, merely shuffled a little more in place to better stare at them – in as much as she could tell where its black-on-black eyes were looking at all – but otherwise doing nothing. “I don’t think it’s hostile,” Twilight said, quietly elated her hunch seemed to be correct. “Maybe they’re only aggressive near their nests?”

Another sharp jab at her side. “We’re in their nest!” Squirrel hissed back at her. 

Of course we are. “So that’s not it, then... what’s going on?”

Rainbow took that moment to butt in front of Twilight, wings flared out protectively as she took a couple of tentative steps towards the creature. When she was barely a metre away the creature finally reacted, scooting back far faster than something that large should be able to move. Rainbow jumped in surprise, but held her position as she continued trying to stare down the thing. 

Twilight poked her head around Rainbow’s wing to see that the creature had gone back to just lying there, watching. “Odd...”

Rainbow slowly relaxed, her wings coming back down. “Totally scared it,” she said primly. “But seriously, though – this is weird.”

“Do we... do we just walk past it, then?” Squirrel wondered aloud. “Because I can’t find anything to fight it with, and it’s not like it’s going to be any clearer backtracking.”

Twilight nodded slowly. “Probably our best bet, yes.” She waited a moment to see if Rainbow would object before continuing. “Slow and steady, then.”

As one, they crept forwards, keeping as far away as possible from the creature, their flanks brushing against the wall as they moved. The creature paid them little heed as they passed it by, not even turning to watch them go. Once it was a few paces behind, Twilight let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. 

“Hopefully the others are as calm as that one,” Squirrel muttered as they carried on down the tunnel, swiftly losing sight of the creature as they turned yet another corner. 

Having stayed at the lead, Rainbow gave another flick of her tail and stopped dead. “Well, shoot.”

They’d arrived at a crossroads. The path ahead was dark and free of lichen. Left and right glowed still, but the rightmost path – the one the bulk of the pipes led into – opened almost immediately into a cavernous room. Countless rails zigzagged across the floor, while rows of minecarts and larger railbound equipment lay all about the place. Several more bulky brackets fed into the room from other directions, their pipes leading to myriad sets of canisters or boxy metal containers, all while winding through a maze of roots and detritus.

All the farthest end, shrouded in darkness, came the faint but unmistakable sounds of running water.

“I think this might be some sort of switching station,” Twilight said, staring out into the erratically-lit space. “Although this is a lot of equipment.”

“Must’ve been one heckuva mining operation,” Squirrel agreed. “Think our way back’s over there?”

“Maybe? I lost track of our direction back at the first room.”

“Nah, Squirrel’s right,” Rainbow said. “That should take us back, more-or-less.”

“Never doubt the pegasus, eh?”

Rainbow shrugged, fluffing out her wings. “Couldn’t tell you which way north is down here, but I’m not about to get lost that easily.”

They continued staring out into the abyssal room, none of them particularly eager to step forward. “Don’t know about sneaking past all of those, mind.” Littering the room were countless more of the crab-like creatures. Every time Twilight thought she’d plotted a path through, her eyes would refocus and she’d find yet another one camouflaged in with all the junk and lichen and still more vine-like roots. 

“Getting across is going to be a problem.”

Rainbow grunted. “We’re going to need to grab a pry along the way, too.”

Twilight nodded, sighing grimly; despite the sheer amount of stuff scattered about the place, there looked to be surprisingly little in the way of long metal bars. “Could try to tear off some of the zephyr lines, if we need to? Should be safe with how long they’ve been dry.”

“Have to get to one first.”

“Yep.”





They’d been idling at the threshold for some time now, quietly planning as they observed the creatures. While some of them had seemed content to merely lounge – bar the occasional twitch – in whatever corner or nook they’d found, most of them were moving with near-constant purpose. Their sizes, too, varied considerably, with some small enough to fit in their hooves, whereas others were nearly up to their shoulders.

Of mixed worry and relief was that most were crawling along the ceiling, or scuttling along hanging bridges born of tangled roots; it was going to be intimidating walking beneath them, certainly, but at least their path forwards would technically be clear. 

“Let’s just do this already,” Rainbow said, breaking the thoughtful silence. She rolled her shoulders, fidgeting with the lit shard around her neck. “Or go back or something – I hate waiting like this.”

The other two shared a glance before Twilight nodded. “Alright – I think we’ve planned this out as best we can, anyways.”

Rainbow’s wings itched. “Yeah, yeah – go slow, head to the wall, and be prepared to run. Fast.”

“That is the gist of it, yes.” They continued to hesitate at the threshold as the seconds ticked by. 

“Sooo who goes first?” Squirrel asked, looking for all the world like she hoped it wasn’t her.

Rainbow snorted, gave her wings another tense flex and furl, and stepped forwards. She hunched her shoulders as she entered the first dark spot, devoid as it was of any lichen, lit only by the bobbing of her shard. The hurried clopping of hooves close behind made it clear the others had followed. “Keep close,” she whispered, kicking aside a pale chunk of shell. 

“Then don’t kick things!” Squirrel hissed back to her.

“Oh, they can barely even hear us.” She was just guessing with that, but considering how noisy the creatures were being she suspected she was right; plus, it wasn’t as though that one in the tunnel had down anything, and they were right next to it!

“We don’t know that,” Squirrel insisted stubbornly. “And what about those ones in the forest?”

Something scarpered above their heads, its form lost in the gloom. “Shut it, girls,” Twilight said, sounding unusually serious.

Rainbow couldn’t remember the last time she’d sounded so severe. She gave her head a little shake before focusing once again on the path ahead, taking care to mind her hoofsteps. 

She reached the first of the many tracks, carefully crossing it to lead the group between two rows of empty carts, aiming roughly for the closest of the walls. The plan had it that they’d try to find something as a pry along the way – loose rails or the like – but otherwise make for a cluster of sagging pipes running between a bank of ring-canisters; from there, they’d tear down one of the sections for use. 

Rainbow was fairly certain you weren’t supposed to bang open zephyr lines all willy-nilly, but she trusted Twilight knew what she was talking about. 

Her hoof touched down lightly in a puddle. The ground here was pitted and gouged, with numerous little cracks and channels running between patches of dirty water. The warm humidity of the area did little to lessen the unpleasantness of the muck splashing back at her. 

Someone exhaled sharply behind her. “Blasted spiders,” Squirrel groaned, waving a leg around frantically. “I swear I just stepped in a whole nest of them.”

“Seriously?” Rainbow scowled.

“I can feel their webs on me!” A shiver ran through her. “I hate it.”

She was still flicking her hooves about when they passed back into the light, coming to a halt as they did. The line of carts had ended, leaving them facing a wide and far more open space. Shattered plates covered what looked like a pit running lengthways in front of them. “Maybe for maintenance?” Twilight muttered, looking up at the rails and hooks that ran above it. “To get beneath the self-powered equipment?”

Near as Rainbow could tell rails did run in and out of the trench, though its purpose hardly seemed relevant right now. “There’s probably a nest in there – we should find another way around.”

“No – it’ll be flooded,” Squirrel countered. “Everything else that’s even a couple inches deep is.”

“Yeah, but they might get aggro if it’s a nest,” Rainbow insisted, waving a hoof at the many creatures skittering about the space.

“Which it won’t be, because it’s flooded.”

Rainbow huffed, biting back her retort – there could be a nest under the plates, couldn’t there? “Boss?” she said instead, glancing back.

Twilight rolled her eyes, poking her in the side. “So far the creatures have been docile – whatever riled them up in the woods doesn’t seem to be the case, here. That said, I think we’re just about beyond the point of no return,” she added nervously.

Rainbow glanced back the way they’d come, but she needn’t, really – if things went pear-shaped, they were royally bucked. She flicked her tail at Squirrel. “Too late for grumbling,” she said, hoping to head off any.

Squirrel swatted away her tail. “No kidding.”

Beside her, Twilight sat down in a relatively dry spot, eyes closed as she breathed deep. Figuring they might be here a while, Rainbow took to trying to keep calm herself – she knew she was starting to twitch, but the urge to get out from under this blasted rock was weighing on her. 

She found a broken slab a couple paces away, sat down, and started preening. It was utterly pointless down here, and her feathers had an unpleasant, oily taste to them to boot, but it always helped her think. 

Admittedly, all it did was make her think about how annoyed she was that they were acting like they were about to get mauled to death – even Squirrel looked to be stretching for a fight.

It was barely a minute later, then, when Rainbow shot back up. “We doing this, then?” She sounded gruffer than she’d’ve liked, but there was nothing for it now. 

“Yep,” Twilight exhaled, standing back up with a tired groan. “I’ve an idea for a few spells that could help if we wind up in trouble – keep near me if we do.”

“Sounds good. I’ll lead?” She had no problem in the least at being the first one in, but she didn’t want to muck up any of Twilight’s spells – whatever they were. 

“Best if I’m in centre. You alright taking rear, Squirrel?”

The mare nodded, apparently not trusting herself to speak. 

With one last roll of her neck, Rainbow led the way into the open space. The chattering of the creatures – and there must’ve been dozens moving about the place, through cracks, open ground, and all along the ceiling – didn’t change as Rainbow picked a circuitous route around the edges, looking to keep as far away from the pit as possible. The lichen-light here was sparse, doing little to illuminate things, and casting most everything as nothing more than dark shapes upon darker backgrounds; likewise her shard was so worn down by this point that it she wouldn’t’ve been surprised if it was lighting things no better than a candle. 

There was a flutter of air about her hooves as something darted away into the distance. She paused, rolling her shoulders as she tried to not think about what she almost stepped on. It wasn’t until they’d gone over what must’ve been their fifth set of rails when something finally broke the tension. 

A harsh, cracking sound came from the base of one of the root-towers near the pit. At the edge of the light she could see one of the creatures – a large one – banging its vicious-looking forelimbs on the stone.

“Back off,” Twilight’s voice whispered from behind her. “Slowly.”

Rainbow did just that, backtracking one step at a time, her side pressed against one of the many carts as she tried to keep as far away from it as she could. The thumping stopped as the creature faded away again. 

“Okaaay,” Rainbow said. “Not that way?”

She felt a poke on her flank. Turning, she saw Squirrel very carefully rearing up to get a look over the wall of minecarts. “Might be able to go around through here,” Squirrel said, indicating a cart-lined path just behind them. “Can’t tell if it’s actually clear from here, but I can’t see anything big, at least.”

While not exactly a ringing endorsement, Rainbow didn’t much like the idea of trying to force their way through here. “Well, let’s go then,” she said, scootching past the other two to retake the lead. Ducking her head down the alley, she certainly agreed it looked clear.

She took a step between the carts, and then another. “Looks good,” she said over her withers. As they followed the rails she saw several more of the hoof-sized creatures, but compared to the larger ones they looked utterly harmless; nonetheless, she took care as she stepped over and around them.

It wasn’t until they’d passed into another lit section that they decided to stop again, this time looking to clamber over the carts to the next clear bit of rail and double back from there. It would mean getting closer to the ceiling – and exposing themselves to everything down here too – but there was no telling how long simply wandering between the lanes would take.

Rainbow reared up to try and peek over one of the carts. “Okay – I think Squirrel should go first this time.”

“What! Why? You’re the leader,” Squirrel said, looking mildly alarmed.

“Because you’re expendable – obviously.”

Twilight snorted. “Play nice, girls. I for one think she should go last – she’s more than tall enough to hop onto the cart by herself, so she can help me over first.”

As much as she wanted to bicker a bit before giving in, she was just feeling too tense to bother. “Alright,” she relented. “I’ll lead.”

She leapt up, balancing for a moment on the cart’s lip before stepping onto the damp, mucky ore within; her hooves barely sank in at all. “Cargo’s steady,” she said, carefully leaning over the far side to see what was in the shadows below. 

Another clutch of hatched egg husks grew between the rails, with several of the baby creatures littering the ground. “We’ll need to jump down a little over this way,” she said, jerking her head closer towards the pit. After getting a couple nods in return, she jumped down, the creatures scattering as she landed. The path from here looked safe all the way back to the clearing, although it was hard to tell for sure. 

As she waited for the other two to join her, she leaned in close to some of the lichen, glowing now so much brighter than it’d seemed earlier. “My pupils must be sooo big right now,” she muttered to herself; she couldn’t look directly at Squirrel’s shard without wincing, and she knew that thing must be beyond dim by this point. 

There were a pair of heavy thumps behind her. “Let’s get going,” Twilight whispered, giving her a little nudge. Together, they continued into the darkness, being mindful of their steps as they did. 

The ground and roots here were teeming with life – and not just of the creatures themselves, but beetles and spiders and more besides. Rainbow shivered as she felt them on her fur. “This is gross,” she groaned through gritted teeth, afraid some would get into her mouth as she pushed aside thin skeins of roots. 

“It’s strange there’re so many of them, yes,” Twilight muttered from where she’d squished herself alongside Rainbow’s flank – effectively using her like a plow. 

The path cleared up again as they neared the pit, although from the far side this time. They stopped at the threshold. “Which way are we going?” Squirrel asked, staring out into the maze of little paths feeding into the area. 

“Well, the far wall’s right there.” With the way the rails were running, there was only a single long line of loaded carts between them and the rows of equipment boxes, ducting, and pipes. “We’re probably going to have to climb over to get to it.”

Rainbow looked around hopefully for some sort of pry. “Almost out, then.”

“Just need to follow the walls and rails down to the water afterwards.”

“And hope it takes us back out – yep.” 

They were stalling again. “Welp,” Rainbow breathed out. “Let’s go.” 

They crept along the perimeter, eyes peeled; they could make out several of the larger ones in the gloom, but were starting to feel a little more comfortable around them – provided the things weren’t acting skittish – and so found themselves weaving around them, just as though they were little more than root-towers. 

They soon made it to the line of carts. Peeking over it, they saw the wall just a few metres away. “Right – we’ll want to get at that piping,” Twilight said as they worked their way over. “We need a section loose enough to tear off, but not so rusted it won’t be sturdy enough for the job.”

Jumping down on the other side, they found themselves in a narrow, equipment-strewn alley. While the pipes were far too high off the floor to reach, there were plenty of boxes and the like to climb onto. 

The lichen here was sparse, forcing them to walk up the path to try and find what they were looking for; luckily for them, it only took a few minutes. 

“Okay,” Twilight began, staring up at a loosely-hanging section some three metres long. “Squirrel’s the strongest of us – if you climb up, you should be able to wrench it off at the base. Rainbow – if you’re up there with her, you can keep her from tumbling off if the pipe gives way suddenly. I’ll stay down here, ready to dampen your fall with a touch of magic if you do.” Squirrel opened her mouth to say something, but Twilight cut her off. “And no, Squirrel, I can’t just rip it off telekinetically – I don’t want to risk there still being any residual mana-charge in there.”

As plans went, it sounded pretty good to Rainbow. She and Squirrel quickly clambered up onto the equipment – taking a moment to swat away all the webbing – before trying to get into a good position. Ultimately, Rainbow ended up bracing her back against the wall, one arm around Squirrel’s waist as the mare stood in front of her on the narrow, dented ledge. Above them hung the pipe. 

There was a noisy creaking and grating as Squirrel tugged on the thick conduit, splashes of water pouring out of the end of it. Rainbow spluttered as some got on her tongue, the acrid tingle of concentrated mana making her shudder. 

“Still got some charge to it,” she muttered, spitting out the zephyr. 

“No kidding,” Squirrel groaned, getting the worst of it. With a final crunch the pipe bent and snapped at its base, falling to the ground with a crash. “You good, Sparks?” Squirrel asked, peering over her shoulder into the dark.

“I’m fine,” Twilight said. “Pipe looks solid, too – let’s get somewhere better lit and check it over.”

“Sounds good.” Squirrel and Rainbow quickly got back down and hung the awkward piece between them.

Rainbow led the way to a lighter part further down the path. “The things don’t seem to care,” she noted as they stepped under the lichen, she and Squirrel unceremoniously tossing the pipe down in the pool of light.

“Yes,” Twilight murmured, already lost in running a critical eye and hoof along the metal. “I suspect that whatever it is they eat, it isn’t ponies; the ones in the woods may’ve just been aggressive for other reasons – maybe they had predators that’d riled them up recently, or it was mating season or something.”

“Ugh,” Rainbow gagged, trying not to think just what exactly ‘mating season’ would constitute for the bizarre-looking creatures. 

“Quite.” She gave the pipe a satisfied tap. “Should hold.”

Squirrel took that moment to heft up one end and try to bend it against the ground to no avail. “Yep! So, then – off to the sounds of water?”

“Mmhmm.” Left unspoken was the fact that they didn’t actually know that the sound came from the same tunnel they were canoeing in before. Just have to deal with that if it comes, Rainbow figured as she and Squirrel lifted the pipe back up. After some finagling they managed to set it across their withers such that Rainbow could still lead in front, the end of the pipe poking up past her shoulder. 

“This would be so much more comfortable if I still had my packs,” she groused, the pipe sliding slightly with every step.

“Still have our jackets, at least.”

“Better than nothing,” Rainbow agreed. 

The path curved slightly as they moved from light to shadow to light again. With the stone wall to their left, and a solid line of carts to their right, they felt pretty safe and secure as they followed the rails into the utterly dark, cavernous far end.

They slowed their pace as the lichen was lost behind them, leaving them with nothing to light their way but their dying shards. 

Their hoofsteps echoed around them as the sound of running water grew. “There don’t seem to be many creatures around here,” Twilight noted, peering at the ground and into the dark. “I can barely hear any movement.”

“Maybe they like the plants?” Squirrel suggested. “Or the light? It looks pretty bare around here too. Not that I can see much, mind.”

Twilight nodded thoughtfully. 

They continued on, what sounds there were of the chittering and chattering of the creatures soon fading entirely behind them. Rails seemed to veer off in odd directions, their metal glinting as they disappeared down side passages. Near as Rainbow could tell they were moving subtly downhill, and sure enough it wasn’t long until her hoof splashed down in icy water. 

“This the main tunnel, you think?” she wondered, having to speak up over the growing sound of running water. “Would hate for it to just be a flooded side passage or something.”

“I think we’ll just have to hope it is,” Twilight said. “Does it at least run in the right direction?” They’d come up to a far more open area, the wall to their left turning sharply away from them. Flickers of light shone off into the distance. “Actually, hold on.” Her horn lit up, a swarm of little lights flooding the area. 

“Well, it’s definitely a main tunnel,” Squirrel noted, peering left and right down the wide passage. Water burbled merrily over rails and rubble – it was shallow here. “Which way we going, Rainbow?”

“Left,” Rainbow answered without hesitation – she wasn’t that turned-around. “I think it’ll have to curve a bit to meet up with the canoe, though.”

“Might be why we can’t make out any shafts of sunlight.”

Rainbow nodded, grunting. “My legs are cold already – let’s get going.”

They started into the water, splashing their way upstream. Twilight kept her spell up, for which Rainbow found herself grateful – without the lichen here, they would’ve been looking at a long, dark walk otherwise. 

The pipe slid off of Rainbow’s withers, leaving Squirrel cursing behind her. “Stumbled,” Squirrel muttered. 

“We can spread out a bit more here.” They rebalanced the pipe and carried it abreast, Rainbow’s wings flaring out occasionally to nudge it back whenever it threatened to roll off. 

The tunnel did indeed curve, slowly and steadily. Equipment littered the place, but barring that the way was clear. “This isn’t so bad,” Squirrel said.

Rainbow snorted. “It’s cold.”

“Well, yeah – but, besides that.”

“Sure, then – it’s not too bad, I guess; still looking forward to getting out of here.”

“Oh, definitely.”

The current noticeably picked up its pace as little whitecaps appeared out of the gloom. “Think that’s the rubble from earlier?” Rainbow wondered. “We’ve gone about the right distance.”

“Sounds likely, then,” Twilight agreed, relief evident in her voice. “Watch you don’t turn an ankle on any of this.”





Progress had been slow, to say the least. Minding their ankles had been one thing, but keeping the pipe on Rainbow and Squirrel’s withers was quite another. More than once Twilight had been tempted to just risk it and levitate the dang thing.

There was a hollow clang as the pipe fell down again with a clatter. Rainbow, having long since cursed herself out, merely grumbled as she fished the rod out back out of the gurgling waters and nimbly manoeuvred it onto her back. 

With her lights still up, Twilight had taken the lead, scouting a course through the rubble – for even here the ceiling had partially collapsed. Her work was as often frustrating as fruitful, for not only did she need a route for one pony, she needed to find an accompanying path for a second – with how uneven the ground was, setting the pipe lengthwise along the other two’s withers was best saved as a last resort. 

The only good thing about the rubble was that it really did mean they were almost back to the canoe. 

There was a glimmer of light in the distance – there for a moment, then gone. “I think I saw some sunlight,” Twilight said, subconsciously dimming her lights to see it better. “Not far ahead.”

“Good,” Squirrel grunted. “But turn the lights back up, will you? If it’s there we’ll know soon enough, but for right now I can’t see where I’m putting my hooves.”

“Oh! Right,” Twilight blushed sheepishly. Her lights returned to their previous brilliance. 

Soon, even with the glare all three of them could make out what were undeniably shafts of sunlight, slicing across the passage. “Sun’s still up, then” Squirrel noted, relieved. “Thank goodness.”

“Now we just need to pry the doors open, get to the river, and find somewhere to camp for the night,” Twilight said. 

It felt like no time at all before the slumped silhouette of the canoe came into view, and little more again before they were standing in front of the very same doors from scant hours ago. “Right,” Twilight began after giving the doors a brief examine. “Let’s slide the pole through the gap. We can then scramble back over and pry it from the far side.”

“Not from here?” Squirrel asked.

“Don’t think we can get the leverage we need with all this junk around,” Twilight said, gesturing to their surroundings. “We’ll probably need to pull it a good ways to the side.” She stared up at the gap above the lintel, not looking forward to clambering up that again.

Rainbow noticed her look. “Same as before, then? I’ll get up there first and Squirrel’ll brace you second.”

“You mean ‘Squirrel’ll have her head smashed in,’ don’t you?” Squirrel groused. She wore a smile, though.

“Yeeeah, I’ll try not to?”

“Uh huh,” Squirrel said doubtfully. 

In a flurry of movement, Rainbow chose that moment to hop and flutter her way up and over. “Push the pry through!” she called to them, landing with a splash on the far side. 

Squirrel and Twilight hurried to do just that, feeding the pipe snuggly through the gap. 

“Okay,” Squirrel said, taking a deep breath. “Let me get my packs back on before you crush my spine, alright?”

“I’m not that heavy!” Twilight squeaked indignantly as the other mare grabbed her panniers from the boulder they’d left them on earlier. 

Squirrel snorted. “I’m lucky you’re as light as you are. Still dang rough when you dig your hooves in.” Grumbling done, she readied herself again next to the canoe; above, Rainbow’s head poked back out as she got ready herself. 

They decided to try a different route this time, with Twilight scarpering up the braced canoe first, and Squirrel shoving at her hooves and flank after that, but all that meant was that Squirrel ended up having her face stepped on whenever Twilight’s hooves slipped. Eventually though, after much cursing, she managed to pull herself up.

“If this pry doesn’t work,” Squirrel groaned, rubbing at her muzzle, “we’re walking, okay? ‘Cause I’m not doing that again.”

“That makes two of us,” Twilight muttered as she shuffled aside to make room for the other mare; beside her, Rainbow ducked back down to ground level. 

Once Squirrel was over, they both hurriedly clambered down the stack of junk. “Let’s get this clear,” Twilight said, indicating the pile. “Try not to break any of it, though – we’ll need it to get our packs from the far side if the pipe breaks.”

“Nah – I can fly over and pull them through if needed,” Rainbow countered as she hopped up onto one of the crates and started unceremoniously flinging stuff aside. “I just want this whole thing done with.”

Twilight couldn’t argue with that. 

It wasn’t long before they’d manage to clear the doorway. “Well,” Squirrel said, setting aside her shard and jacket. “Let’s take a look at this.” They could see now that the doors had buckled at the base, the bottom half-foot or so bowing out towards them. “I reckon that once these things pop open, they’ll go flying.”

“We’ll want to keep our distance, yes,” Twilight nodded, hefting the far end of the pipe in her hooves. “No time like the present?”

“Definitely.” 

With the pole wedged in, they all gathered at the far end. “Slow and steady, now,” Twilight cautioned as they leaned into the pipe. The wooden door – rotten on the outside – crushed easily at first before resisting them. There was an ominous creaking as they pushed harder, the doors bending only slightly. The pipe flexed beneath their hooves. 

“Hold up,” Squirrel cautioned. “I think the pipe might be breaking.”

She and Twilight paused in their efforts. “No,” Rainbow said, not relaxing as she still leaned into the pipe. “I mean, maybe, but if it breaks, so what? It’s not like we can somehow strengthen it right now before pushing harder, right? So let’s just keep at it; if it breaks, it breaks.”

“I guess...” Nevertheless, they all three resumed pushing, the metal noticeably bending in their grip as they slowly walked it towards the wall. The door started to splinter and groan before, with a mighty snap, it slammed open in a spray of water and gravel. The pipe rebounded, flying out of their hooves as they fell into a tumult on the floor. Twilight quickly scrambled away from the door, but only a few small rocks tumbled in after them. The doors themselves lay broken, wedged again into the uneven ground.

Beside her, Squirrel stood back up with a groan. “Well,” she said, briskly shaking the water off of her. “That worked, I suppose.”

“Yep.” There was now more than enough room to get the canoe through. She crossed through, the others in tow, as she sought out her panniers. Beside her, Rainbow tossed her dead shard into her satchel. 

“You still got a spare somewhere, Squirrel?”

“Yeah,” Squirrel said, rooting around in her own. “Should’ve brought it along with us, eh? Or that paint I picked up just to mark passages.”

Rainbow shrugged. “Meh – worked out anyways; plus, we built, like, what – one cairn?”

“It was a good idea,” Twilight said as she settled her gear back comfortably into place. “We just didn’t expect to get un-lost so quickly.”

“No complaining here.”

Once they all had their gear strapped on, they heaved up the canoe and carefully brought it through the door; the ceiling was too low to carry it over their heads, so they were instead forced to slowly walk it forwards between them. 

The sunlight bleeding down the corridor and into the room was bright and warm. As they stepped out of the mine and into the afternoon light, a fresh breeze played across their faces, setting manes and tails afly. “Finally,” Twilight sighed – from here, it should be nothing but smooth sailing to Hurricanum. 

“This way,” Rainbow said with a smile, pointing a wing some ways down the scree. “There’s a decent path to the river from there.”

“Just a few more hours until camp, eh?” Squirrel asked as they hefted the canoe overhead. 

“Yeah – a little downriver.”

Twilight grinned. “And back to town by tomorrow!”
> Chapter 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

The river was fast, but smooth. They’d awoken early that morning, quickly packing up their little site on the bank of the Coriander. Hurricanum was still well out of sight at that point – too many mountains in the way – but they couldn’t have been than a few hours’ travel away. 

Twilight dug her oar in, relishing in the thought that she wouldn’t have to do any more of it soon. A small school of fish darted about beneath her, the morning sunlight flickering off their scales in rainbow hues. Well, she thought, I might miss it a bit.

The breeze kept up as they neared the break in the eastern mountain range. Well ahead of them they could make out the vast expanse of Chestnut lake, its far shores little more than a dull, blue haze. 

“We came in through there,” Twilight said, her spirits light enough to make conversation as she pointed at the distant horizon. “Stopped at Thistle for half a day before coming over here.”

“The main route, these days,” Squirrel nodded. “Never taken it – none of the trade convoys are crossing the Calise, yet. Would love to, though – love the sounds of the sea.”

“It was... very calming,” Twilight decided, thinking back on the week-long journey. “Peaceful, without all the distractions back home.”

“I thought it was kinda boring.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “A fact you made sure to drive home several times a day.”

“There was nothing to do!” Rainbow suddenly groaned and wilted. “There is going to be nothing to do.”

Squirrel snorted. “After all the fun of the last week, I’d’ve thought you wouldn’t mind some quiet time on the way back.”

“I guess,” Rainbow shrugged.

“You guys heading back right away, then?”

“I don’t know,” Twilight said. “We’ll have to check in right away; explain what happened and return the documents and drams, too,” she added, giving one of her panniers a reassuring pat. “Then... I don’t know? We’re not injured, so there’s no need to rush us back to Equus; likewise it’s not as though we need to hang around for some diplomatic work, tagalongs that we are.” Ships were moving back and forth between Equus’ various embassies across Avalon and the homeland nearly every week, so there’d always be some ship or another for them to take. “One step at a time, I think.”

“Sounds good.”

“What about you, though?” Twilight asked. She knew the other mare had intended to head back home, but wondered if anything had changed. 

“Rest here for a couple days, probably.” The canoe bumped gently against the shallows before they manoeuvred it back out to deeper waters. A hooffull of scattered pastures and homesteads dotted the hills and riverplains around them. “Then back to Wanderbelle. Think I’ll take the long way around – have some fun with it.”

“Sounds like a nice capstone to everything.”

“Yep.”

They drifted on quietly, until, like the lifting of a veil, the eastern range ended and Hurricanum, perched like a great, brooding eagle on the rocky, shoreside hills, appeared before them. 

“Thanks, Squirrel – for all your help.”

“And not asking to get paid.”

“Dash!” Twilight scolded her, but Squirrel merely snorted.

“No problem,” Squirrel said. “It was kind of fun.”

“Yeah,” Twilight agreed as the warm sun and the cool breeze sent a pleasant shiver through her. “It kind of was.”