The Fate of the Lone Twilight
“Twilight? Ah was wonderin’ if you got a minute?”
The setting sun was casting its last rays over the library's new and rather brobdingnagian desk when Twilight moved her book aside to see Applejack. Her smile faded to a look of concern when she saw the expression playing across her friend’s face.
She put the tome down onto the desk and walked around it hastily. “Applejack! What’s the matter? The last time I saw you that worried, Apple Bloom was sick with the Cutie Pox.”
She felt a little ashamed, however, to hear a part of herself think, Applejack has a problem! Yes, yes, yes, that is precisely what I needed!
To her surprise, a package was placed on the floor between them. She picked it up and read the address, or at least she tried to: nothing was written on the box.
“Wait, what is –” she began.
“Ah really need your help here, so Ah’ll tell you as much as Ah can get out in one go. A few days back, Granny Smith got a package o’ the same kind as this in the mail. Jus’ came out of nowhere like it dropped straight out of Cloud Colt Country. Weren’t no address on it or nothin’, but two things about it right gave her a scare an’ a half.”
Twilight levitated the box, examining each face until she saw anything that might stand out. So she was perfectly justified in yelping when the bottom of the box burst open and a mass of hay narrowly missed her muzzle.
They both stared at the pile on the floor. Then, carefully, Twilight reached forwards and scraped the hay off what seemed to be something red and shiny, and peered closer.
A mystery! she thought. Isn't it great?
Shut up! another part of her mind thought.
“That’s the firs’ thing. She opened it up and got exactly what Ah’m showin’ you now. A pile of hay, and five of these things.” Applejack removed her hat and rubbed her forehead with the back of the other hoof.
Twilight narrowed her eyes and arranged the objects in a row, but she couldn’t hide the disappointment in her voice.
“Five apple cores,” she said.
“Ah din’t understand it neither, but it got Granny Smith in a right tizzy. Ah ain’t seen her so worked up since the time Big Mac accidentally ripped one of her girdles.” Roughly, she snatched up the box and almost shoved it in Twilight’s face. “An’ here’s the second thing!”
With a warning glare to get Applejack to back off a little bit, Twilight focused on the flap. Scrawled across the mouldy cardboard in runny ink were three letters.
“F. & F.?”
“Ah din’t understand that, neither. But Granny Smith jus' told us it was a prank an' we should ignore it. Right after she saw the scrawlin’ on the box, she went upstairs an’ came down with a huge chest full of ol’ letters, or so I thought at the time. Ah asked her, ‘What are those things, Granny?’ an’ she jus’ said, ‘Don’t jus’ stand there a-yappin’ an’ a-blabbin’! Jus’ help me bury ‘em outside an’ forget all about ‘em.’”
Applejack paused, and Twilight noticed her hoof was shaking as she reached up to adjust her hat.
“And you did that? Did she ever bring it up again?”
“That’s the thing. She promised to tell us all about it the next day, but after Big Mac an’ Ah finished up on the north field and brought Apple Bloom home, she weren’t there! An’ there was another box sittin’ on the doorstep with Big Mac’s name on it.”
Twilight paced up and down the room, chewing to herself. “When was this?”
“Yesterday! Big Mac an’ Ah were up all night tryin’ to find her. But we split up at one point, an’ when it got to sunrise, Ah went home an’ waited for him to come back so’s we could talk about what to do next.”
Twilight tried to ignore the break coming in Applejack’s voice. She didn’t want to let this get to her too; she needed to concentrate for Applejack’s sake at least.
“What about Apple Bloom? Was she still in?”
“Yes. Ah din’t want to upset her about all this, so Ah told her Big Mac was still out lookin’ – you know, like we’d planned it that way, on accoun’ of one of us havin’ to go back an’ look after the farm – an’ Ah took her to the school this mornin’. But Ah haven’t seen Big Mac since last night, an’ when Ah got back to the barn, this here box was waitin’ for me.”
Twilight picked up the box, and a flap flopped down before her bearing a second scrawling.
Applejack.
She gulped. “Has Granny Smith ever wandered off before?”
“If Granny Smith has ever wandered off at all, then the moon'll hatch a giant chicken. Ah tell you, that box has somethin’ to do with it. An’ before you ask, both Big Mac and Ah agreed to be back home by the crack of dawn. If my brother says he’ll be back at a given time, then you could set your watch by him.”
Twilight turned to confront the mass of hay scattered across the floor, and smelled the savaged remains of five red delicious apples, all decaying silently. Across the row, they seemed to glare up at her as though to charge her with the fates of Applejack’s kin.
“Of course I’ll help,” she said. “If there’s a way to find Granny Smith and Big Macintosh before sundown, then I’ll find it.”
The relief in Applejack’s voice was like a breath of fresh air. “Thank you a million times over, Twilight!”
“OK… OK… Let’s see if I can figure this out… Logic and reason, don’t let me down now.”
“Ah knew Ah could rely on you! You’ll hitch your big brain onto this kind of cart an’ get it up to full speed, right enough!”
Even despite the gravity of the situation, Twilight couldn't resist a small smirk. "Of course I will. As Curveball the Cunning once wrote, the ideal reasoner," she said, "should be able to deduce from from a single fact not only all the chain of events which led up to it, but also all the results which follow from it. Just as Curveball himself could identify, from a single apple, the nature and condition, history, geopolitical importance, and even future stock prices of the Golden Delicious market, so I should be able to figure out this mystery, if I have enough knowledge available."
Pacing ensued, with Twilight peering first at the apple cores, then at the scrawlings on the box, and finally out the window at the vista of Ponyville’s cottage houses. She chewed her lip and rubbed her chin. She muttered to herself and pointed from one to the other. Finally, she turned to Applejack.
“All right. From what I can tell, the best deduction is this: that whomever has been sending Granny Smith, Big Mac, and finally you these packages wants something with those buried letters.”
A pause followed.
“Uh…” Applejack scratched her head. “Yeah, Ah don’t mean to be rude, Twilight, but Ah kinda guessed as much for mahself.”
Another pause followed, or else the same pause came back for a second fly-by.
“Uh… OK. So what else can you tell from it?”
Twilight blinked at her, visibly shaken, but continued: “Whatever was in those letters must be of paramount importance to whomever sent those packages, enough that they’d want to kidnap family members for it, and enough that Granny Smith wouldn’t want you to know about them, in case you were put in danger. And those initials hold the key to knowing who’s doing it.”
She turned to face Applejack and point a dramatic hoof at her. “You have to find somewhere safe. If the pattern continues, then you’ll disappear next!”
A long silence followed.
“Really? That’s it? That’s your fancy logic an’ reason at work?”
“Uh…”
“That stuff’s jus’ common sense!” Applejack pointed a hoof back at her. “Rainbow Dash could have told me as much! Ain’t you able to tell anythin’ more than that from a couple of scrawls an’ a box full of half-finished apples!?”
“Uh, OK…” Twilight summoned a book from the shelf and began skimming through it. Briefly, she looked up at the row of books next to it, all entitled: The Great Mysteries of Poniot and Marble: Complete Collection.
“How about this?” she said as she stopped at the index. “I don’t think this is someone acting on their own, so maybe the initials of ‘F. & F.’ represent some kind of organization? Ideally, one close to the apple trade.”
“What the – are you trying to scrump apples an’ sell them back to the farmers? Ah could have told you that! What Ah want to know is what kind of a nutjob in the apple trade sends five half-eaten apples to someone an’ then kidnaps them – kidnaps mah family – when they don’t hand over some ol’ hidden papers?”
“I’m getting there!” Twilight began pacing more furiously than before, skimming through the books’ pages as she did so. “Come on, logic, don’t fail me now!”
Think like Poniot, think like Poniot, she thought.
“F. & F., F. & F., F… F… Aha!” Twilight stopped at a page. “Try this! The Fresh Fruit and Fibrous Fibre Federation, aka the Fruit and Fibre Feds, aka the F. & F. A former political movement from the new neo-renovational revolutionary rule of the mid-Equestrian era, the F. & F. were protesters of the nepotistic nature of family businesses in farming and building industries, and campaigned to have families forcibly surrender their livelihoods to an equal-opportunity recruitment scheme. The organization has been defunct for over three hundred years.”
She snapped the book shut and replaced it back on the shelf. “There’s no other candidate for the title, and no other logical explanation. The Fresh Fruit and Fibrous Fibre Federation, aka the Fruit and Fibre Feds, aka the F. & F. must still be active underground! The half-eaten fruit must be some kind of symbolic calling card – indicating that they want to take a bite out of your business. They’re targeting Sweet Apple Acres!”
She beamed. Poniot would be so proud!
Applejack chewed her lip thoroughly.
“Yeah…” she said uneasily. “But… ain’t they been out of it for longer than Ponyville’s been around?”
“That’s why they must be working in the underground! It all makes sense, now!”
A flash of white, and Twilight had vanished. Still chewing over the issue – and feeling her tongue curl up in distaste more and more as she did so – Applejack jumped when Twilight flashed back into existence in front of her.
With a deerstalker on her head.
“We haven’t got much time to lose,” she said around the pipe in her mouth. A magnifying glass rose up before her. “You’d best stick with me for your own protection. Now, where did you last see Big Mac?”
“Er…” Applejack tried not to stare as Twilight marched past her. “Er… Ah… told him to check over on the south side of town…”
“Then that’s where we’ll have to go. If there are any clues that could help us with this case, then I suggest we start looking for them there. Now come on! We haven’t much –”
There was a knock at the door.
“Coo-ee!” said a familiar voice.
Twilight paused in mid-march, her face turning as pale as though it was about to flash out of existence. The pipe dropped from her mouth.
“Who’s there?” she asked.
“Whose voice d’you reckon this is, you young whippersnapper? It’s me, Granny Smith!”
“Eeyup,” said a second voice, rather more apologetically.
Twilight barely had time to open the door when she was knocked into the wall and deafened by a chorus of shocked and surprised voices as a blur shot by. Struggling to her hooves, she saw Applejack at the door, almost bursting with relief and astonishment and a myriad other emotions she wished she could trade for her sudden migraine and aching bones. The deerstalker slipped over her face.
“Granny! Big Mac! Ah don’t understan’… Where in the hayseed were you?”
“Ah was jus’ seein’ to some family business," Granny Smith said evasively. "Nothin’ important.”
“Jus’ tell her, Granny,” said Big Mac imploringly, and was quickly silenced by a wary eye.
Twilight took the deerstalker off. “What’s going on?” she almost shrieked. “But you – I mean, Applejack – I mean – but my deductions said you were kidnapped…”
“Kidnapped!? You kiddin’?! Anypony who ever tried to lay one hoof on this mare’d find out pretty quick these legs ain’t just for a-walkin’ with.” Granny Smith stopped glaring and looked a little flustered at their stares.
“Where in the hayseed were you?” said Applejack.
“Well, if you must know, Ah was off dealin’ with those two lowlife shamboodlers who tried to run us off our farm last cider season.”
Applejack stared at Big Mac, who avoided eye contact. “What? You don’t mean Flim an’ Flam?”
“Eeyup,” he said to the welcome mat.
“They’ve been snoopin’ around Ponyville like vultures!” said Granny Smith. “Look, AJ, Ah already tol’ Big Mac, so it’s your turn. Well, since those two thievin’ snakes technic’ly won the contest, they still have exclusive sellin’ rights in Ponyville. Sayin’ all kinds of hogwash over how we’d been sellin’ illegally an’ how they’d take us to Canterlot Court for not gettin’ their permission, or some fang-doodlin’ whopper. Well, Ah put away their firs’ letter, seein’ as Ah thought they were jus’ bluffin’, an’ the next, an’ the next. But the minute Ah got them apples, Ah figured they might try a move on our business. So, Ah got rid of the letters so’s it’d look like they’d got lost in the mail or somethin’, and came to see them on the south side of town, an’ basically told ‘em that Ah din’t want to see their faces in this town again.”
Big Mac coughed apologetically.
“So what was Big Mac doin’ in all this?” Applejack glared at him.
“Oh, yeah, an’ that’s when he came an’ found me. But Ah tol’ him to sit still an’ made him promise to stick with me until it was over. Fancied he’d give the point Ah was makin’ to those two bluffin’ fright-merchants a bit more of a punch.”
Applejack’s expression softened a little at this. “Well, in that case –”
“Point?” Twilight said. “What point?”
For the first time, Granny Smith gave the impression of being a demon in pony form as she looked down upon them. “That you don’t try an’ pass a rotten apple off to Equestria’s oldest Apple farmer.”
She brightened up. “Anyway, you rest easy those young cadfishes ain’t gonna trouble us agin. Ah gotta admit, maybe not tellin’ y’all wasn’t the best way to go about it, but –” She looked at Applejack with wide eyes. “You know Ah din’t want to upset nopony over nothin’.”
“Granny Smith, don’t you ever do somethin’ like that again!” Applejack reached across and embraced her. “Ah was worried sick about you!”
“You want Ah should make y’all a nice Granny Smith apple pie when we get back, by way of sayin’ sorry?”
“Uh huh,” said Applejack into Granny’s shoulder. Granny patted her on the back.
“An’ Ah’ll make sure nothin’ like this happens again, OK?” she said when the broke apart.
Applejack wiped her nose and straightened her hat. “Uh huh. Yeah.”
“Now, come on. Ah gotta explain this a third time over with half-pint. See you later, Twilight! Come on, Big Mac.”
“Eeyup…”
They disappeared behind the closing door.
Twilight turned around. The stench of rotting apple stung her nostrils, and a few flies buzzed over the hay strewn across the floor. Her eye began to twitch of its own accord.
She walked over to the desk and picked up the book, before noticing something large and papery underneath. She picked up a package.
It had Rarity’s name on the sticker. A tag trailed off it, which she brought closer.
It read: “Twilight, my dear. I was wondering if you could explain how A Study of Scarlet ever became a bestseller. It’s depiction of New Unicornian dresses and fashion is so embarrassingly pre-classical! I showed it to Fancy Pants here in Canterlot, and he agrees it’s simply the mystery of a lifetime…”
Right, she thought.
A while later, the front door opened. A fizz of magic passed over the shiny new plaque that had been nailed into the library’s bark. The plaque landed with a thump in the trash can and the door slammed.
The plaque read: Twilight Sparkle’s Rational and Reasonable Private Detective Agency.
