Metal Celestia

Chapters

Bronze Barding
Iron Law
The Copperhead
Mercury Poisoning
A Quicksilver Temper

Bronze Barding

The Head of Parliament, Her Grace the Duchess of Celestia, curled up on the silk and velvet cushions, and quietly sighed with relief.

In her head still rang the shouts and jeers from the parliamentary chamber. There was some fuss over the tithes the earth ponies had been paying, or more to the point had not been paying nearly enough of. To the unicorns of Equestria, this constituted nothing less than the most outrageous crime of the century. Since, however, no earth ponies were allowed in parliament, they’d mostly argued over who was the most outraged.

She waited for the memories to die away, and then channelled a spark of magic through her horn. Levitating before her, the book flicked another page.

“Your Grace –” began a voice near the fireplace.

Celestia held up a hoof, still reading to the last paragraph of her chapter. The hoof ended in a bronze slipper of the traditional duchy, lower than the Princess’ silver or platinum, and lower still than the King’s gold. All the same, her brow gave a twinge of guilt.

“…for the purposes of extracting live copper from the solution,” she mumbled, and only then did she look up. “Please excuse me, my dear Clover. It is a nuisance, I confess, but I struggle to memorize a thing if I’m interrupted mid-flow. How may I be of assistance?”

Once more, Celestia marvelled at the burlap hood that Clover insisted on pulling up, even this close to the fire. Until now, she’d thought the mare’s taste in clothing would no longer surprise her. Yet a small part of her mind still cringed. After all, that was what a unicorn was supposed to do. Everyone knew that.

Clover lowered her own book. “I wish to ask you something.”

“Please go right ahead.” Celestia lowered the book and shuffled round on her seat. Somewhere, she’d read this was essential for encouraging others to speak, and at least Clover had long since earned that right. “We don’t have to abide by formalities here.”

Clover licked her lips. As much as the hunger trembled in her eyes, she still hesitated before speaking.

“Supposing for the sake of argument,” she said, “that we did perfect this spell. What period in history would you be most interested in seeing?”

Now why would she ask a question like that? Celestia held her face carefully blank while she skimmed through potential right answers. Most of our recent history has involved battles or wars or catastrophes, so she won’t be interested in that. What would suit someone like Clover? Studious academic and scientific triumphs, magic-oriented times, yet keen on friendship ties and peace… Hm, we won’t achieve much more than two out of the three at any one time in history…

Finally, Celestia beamed. “History would not interest me nearly as much as the future.”

“Oh?” Clover summoned inkwell and scroll to her side. “I’m fascinated. Would you care to elaborate on that?”

Oh, Clover! You’re always so tense. Her laughter tinkling, Celestia said, “Why so formal, my friend? I simply would like to see how the current Pax Equestriana would proceed. I would have thought you of all ponies would have loved to see that.”

Focusing on her horn once more, she willed the energies from deep below, from several floors beyond her current chamber. With a plop, the platter and its wheel-sized orange gateau floated before her.

“Slice of Puddinghead’s finest?” She let the tray drift over to the recumbent unicorn. “And my word, aren’t you feeling stiff? A few blankets and cushions between you and the hard stone would do wonders for your blood flow.”

To her shame, she saw Clover’s head draw back slightly. I know for a fact you wouldn’t behave this way if I were merely a common servant. There are times when I think it would be best if you did snap at me. This repression can’t be good for you. Not with poor Platinum as your official ward.

Clover bowed her head. “I mean no disrespect, Your Gra – Celestia.” Shivering at her own breach of etiquette, she continued, “It’s not my place to –”

“Nonsense!” Celestia beamed and waved a hoof dismissively. “Any mage who can single-hoofedly unite three warring tribes with a simple spell has at least earned the right to be a little” – she winked – “irrelevant.”

“Th-Thank you,” said Clover, bowing again. “I-I think you mean – not that I intend any disrespect – to say ‘irreverent’, though. Your Grace. I mean, Celestia. Not that there’s anything wrong with ‘irrelevant’. A-Anyone could’ve made that mistake.”

The cake vanished with a puff of golden dust. Making the cushions groan beneath her, Celestia stretched herself and curled her forelimbs round, the better to face the stained glass window instead. As she did so, the figure within caught her eye.

Against a fiery sky of reds, pinks, and oranges, the unicorn rampant yelled at the sky. All around the edges ran shadows of ponies, the ones above the grassy hills with wings, the ones below without. Bedecked in bronze barding, the white mare had reared up to charge her javelin horn, the tip as bright as a star, with six points waiting to spear the nearest ponies.

Frowning, she cast another golden spell, and the tapestry untied itself and swept down, covering the lot. I told them to do that whenever I have guests. It’s so embarrassing.

“Clover, please,” she said softly. As she spoke, she nudged her long right leg to the side, and noticed Clover’s gaze flicker towards the scar for a moment. “I do not forget what you’ve done for me all these years. Please, may we put the formalities behind us at last?”

“I understand,” murmured Clover to the floor, “it’s just that you’ve had so many years of experience, and, and so much confidence. And I’m just –”

“And dear Princess Platinum doesn’t?” When Clover stiffened, Celestia’s shoulders shook with suppressed chuckles. “Don’t look so frightened, Clover! I only tease. In fact, I wish to grant you a high honour.”

Oh, she’s going to skip and dance. I’d stake my fortune on it.

But Clover was still shrinking as though trying to curl up and out of existence. “Only I’ve never asked for anything, and I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have –”

That said, I really shouldn’t have invited her here. If only she’d show some initiative and ask for herself.

“I’ve got wonderful news. I wished to tell you sooner, but of course we had that chronostasis spell to prepare for.” Celestia placed the book onto the floor and sat upright, ears low and face fighting to remain straight and sombre. In the end, though, delight burst through, and she opened her eyes wide and said, “I’m going to become a sister!”

Clover stopped trying to vanish. She chewed her lip instead, and then arranged her features into the blank stare and thin lines of the ambushed.

“I’m sorry?” she said.

“My dear old parents are expecting another child,” Celestia continued, flattening her beaming smile to something a little more dignified. “They told me so in their letter from the home. Looks like they have been busy during their retirement, and of course I wanted you to be the first to know.”

“Oh.” Clover’s cheeks burned like sun-baked tomatoes. “That’s… that’s wonderful news. Congratulations!”

“It is indeed. We’re expecting my brother or sister to be born during the wintertime, and of course as is customary for the occasion, we’ve decided who we’re going to nominate as godmother at her naming ceremony.”

Clover’s smile widened. “I’m glad. And of course I wish good luck to whomever you deem worthy of becoming godmother.”

Celestia’s mind deflated a little. Uh… did she miss that particular hint?

“Well, actually,” she said, “that’s what I wished to talk to you about.”

“Oh, of course!” Clover slammed her book shut and sat upright too. “Between myself and my master Star Swirl the Bearded, we should be more than able to find a suitable candidate! You have my word, Your Gra – Celestia!”

Celestia’s mind fell. Yes. Definitely missed that particular hint.

“I meant –” she began patiently, and then the knock on the door caught her attention. “Come in.”

Old oaken wood creaked, and the maid’s horn poked through, followed by the rest of her pale blue face. “Your Grrrrrrrace?” she trilled.

“Ah, Slate von Hoofington,” Celestia said. “Allow me to guess. We have visitors?”

“That is corrrrrrrrect, as usual, Your Most Esteemed Grace.” Flourishing her one hoof as though about to perform a magic act, she inclined her head rather lower than Celestia felt was necessary. “His Majesty has arrrrrrrrived in person.”

If only the same could be said for your off-again, on-again trill. “His Majesty indeed? I wonder what he wants.” To Clover, she added, “Please excuse me, my dear Clover. I imagine this is some regrettable necessity. Hopefully, we’ll soon have the place to ourselves again.”

With a wink, she strode through the doorway as Slate held it open wider. For a moment, she fancied Clover had groaned into her hoof, but it could have just been the oak easing back into place.

He was waiting for her in the lounge, presumably attracted there by the gravitational pull of the silverware on the shelves, the candelabra on the long table, and the swirls and rich spirals of fiery colours on the carpets, seats, and tapestries. Even the stone walls boasted so many portraits and painted rural hills and valleys and mountain villages that the artistry alone would have summoned him.

As soon as she entered, he swept round. Even before he opened his mouth, and even had she known nothing about him, he would obviously be the sort with a deep, booming voice like a jolly earthquake. His faux ermine robes swelled past his own portly stomach, and his column-like legs reached outwards as though trying to embrace the house. His fattened face puffed up with the cool gale of an exciting day out on the windswept hillsides. His mere smell was an explosion, a reeking tidal wave of oils and musk that cloaked him like a second robe.

Celestia bowed her head at once. She’d just seen another figure on the long chair, a smaller, sleeker, and less gold-studded specimen than her father.

“Now, now,” he boomed, “my good friend Celestia, hohoho! At ease soldier, what?”

Yet Celestia heard the tut all too well when she rose up again. Platinum waited for Slate to hurry over with the drinks tray, and then waved a hoof until the maid got the message and uncorked one of the bottles.

“My dear friend,” boomed the King, crashing over her and crushing her limbs against her ribs. Celestia winced at the slight ache. Worse still was his stinging smell up close.

“A pleasure to meet you,” droned Platinum listlessly behind him. Meanwhile, Slate poured her a glass of pink juice and levitated the fermented grape-and-strawberry juice under her lips.

“Oh, you’ll have to excuse Platinum,” said the King cheerfully, ebbing away from Celestia like a tide. “I only brought her along to show her what she’ll have to start doing once old Daddy’s shuffled off!”

Celestia bowed her head to Platinum, but a little stiffly. Apart from the crushing pain still around her neck, she couldn’t help but take in the princess’ wine-rich cape and remember Clover’s tattered burlap.

“A pleasure to see you, Your Highness,” she said.

“Yes, the feeling’s mutual.” Platinum took a dainty sip and smacked her lips. “Not as saccharine as is my wont, but I daresay it was the best. Thank you, Slate, for a job well done.”

Slate bobbed a curtsey, and then as soon as her back was turned, she glowered at the far wall. Hastily, Celestia tried not to imagine her screaming in the pantry later. From what she could tell, the poor dear still hadn’t recovered from losing Star Swirl’s apprenticeship. Perhaps some space would do her some good.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Majesty?” she said, jerking her head to summon her maid over. “Fermented juice?”

“Oh, very kind of you.” He examined the offered bottles. “Well, well, well. Some exotic types here, what? Rare vintage, may I ask? I realize I’m no connoisseur –”

“Oh no, Father,” purred Platinum from the chair, and her spine shivered with delight as she stretched out in the manner of a pampered feline. “These are novelties. Exquisitely prepared by the finest earth pony brewers in all of Equestria.”

“Earth pony, eh?” The King smiled and waved the drinks away. “Tempting treats, you sly devil you, but I think I’ll decline. Got to keep an eye on the old pounds and ounces, eh?”

“Nonsense, Father. It’s wonderful and healthy, and of course it most poignantly symbolizes the union between earth pony agricultural traditions and unicornian –”

“She learns so much, haha.” While he chuckled, however, Celestia noticed a slight strain in his voice. “Probably gets it from that Star Swirl chap, she spends so much time around his nearest and dearest.”

Which means Clover and no one else. Briefly, her heart melted at the image: Princess Platinum, alone in the huddle of finest jewels and the most complex tapestries and portraits, lost in a room bigger than Celestia’s own mansion. Even her father doesn’t see her more than twice a week.

“It’s just a shame we live under such uncertain times,” said Celestia, once more bowing her head.

The King stared at her. “I beg your pardon, my dear?”

“I was referring to the troubles on the desert borders, Your Majesty. We discussed it as an item during today’s session in parliament.”

“Oh right! Yes. Absolutely. Hail Equestria and all that, but really that sort of thing was inevitable. Just lucky there are such loyal ponies as yourself on our side.”

Our side.

Celestia’s lips pouted. Those two words used to be so simple once. Before the union, “our side” was the unicorn side if you were unicorn, the earth pony side if you were earth pony, and the pegasus side if you were pegasus. And that was it. In spite of how many times that resulted in helmeted pegasi kicking earth ponies in the face, or unicorns trying to magically restrain dive-bombing infantry in the air, no one was in doubt as to who was supposed to be attacked.

Now? Her mind twisted with the effort of keeping the alliances straight. Oh, nominally all three tribes were now combined into one nation. But then there were the monarchists, who wanted all ponies to bow to the throne; the militants, who’d rather everyone saluted the commander’s armour; and the desserters, who insisted anyone not wearing a pudding on their heads was committing treason. Then you had the splinter groups for about fifteen New Equestrias, none of which recognized the others. There were Cookie-cutters and Pansy-petitioners and Cloverites and the Fires of Friendship League, and the anarchists were somewhere in that lot too…

“…a bit of a muddle,” said the King, and Celestia’s body shocked her brain back into the present. “That’s where you come in, my dear.”

Celestia screwed up her face. “Your Majesty?”

“The Cookie-cutters are trying to force our hooves, Celestia, on the San Palomino border. Now I know what you’re going to tell me,” he said, hastily speaking over her opening mouth. “Cookie herself doesn’t support their cause. They’re simply another flavour of earth pony supremacist. You’re absolutely correct.”

Ah. Now this is more like old times. Celestia flexed the muscles in her limbs, which were starting to feel stiff in any case.

“Would you like me to take care of them, Your Majesty?” She could barely suppress the smirk.

A platter of cakes appeared beside them, followed by a puff of smoke. The king spluttered, but Celestia merely groaned. Soon, the revealed figure of Slate von Hoofington reared up beside them, her forelimbs wide in a proud gesture.

“Behold,” she said, “the prrrrrrestidigitation befitting the rrrrroyal countenance!”

“You’ll have to excuse her, Your Majesty.” Calmly, Celestia raised a slice of chocolate gateau. “She’s a most accomplished practitioner of the mage’s arts. I was sorry to hear that Star Swirl did not appreciate them.”

Platinum chortled and clapped her hooves together. “Bravo, good mare! Bravo!”

“Yes.” The King glared sidelong at the vanishing grin of the maid. “A true marvel.”

However, he selected an encrusted jewel cake and turned it this way and that, catching its sparkles against the light. Of course he’d prefer that one. It’s the richest-looking cake of the selection.

“Chancellor Puddinghead sends her regards, Your Majesty.” Celestia took a nibble, though her jaws ached for a full bite. Once she’d swallowed, she added, “The earth ponies will be more than happy to lend us their support.”

“Oh, I wish you wouldn’t be so stiff, my dear.” Another booming laugh vanished under the champing of teeth. “Hm. Crunchy, not too sweet, interestingly firm texture. Besides” – he swallowed – “the earth ponies are regrettably part of the problem.”

“Oh, pishposh.” Platinum rolled out of her seat and stood before one of the full-length portraits. “That’s just malicious slander cooked up by the pegasi and unicorns. I happen to be very good friends with old Puddinghead, and believe me, if that mare could think her way out of a wet paper bag, much less think her way to a war, then I am the Queen of Griffons.”

Thunder rumbled on the King’s face, but he breathed out a gale and deflated slightly.

Smiling, Celestia licked the chocolate icing from her lips. “Many in parliament believe there is evidence of a conspiracy. It is simply a matter of time before their worst fears are confirmed.”

“Pfft,” spat Platinum, still taking in the portrait. “What evidence? I refuse to bow down to the witterings of common old fools. My good friend, Star Swirl the Bearded –”

I wish she’d stop calling everyone her “good friend”. She’d describe her official toilet maid as her “good friend”, and all they say to each other is “Maid!” and “Thank you!” and “Yes, m’m.” The act is fooling nobody.

“– told me personally that all the so-called evidence was circumstantial and ambiguous at best. Obviously tampered letters, the say-so of a bunch of drop-outs and thugs, and three forgeries do not a conspiracy make.”

On the other hoof, she’s clearly learning a thing or two from Clover. Well done, Princess. I truly mean it. “As much as I appreciate your case, Your Highness” – Celestia calmly took the glare thrown over to her – “those forgeries are still under investigation. Certainly, there are plenty of candidates for the conspiracy.”

“Yes,” boomed the King, spraying crumbs that a panicky Slate leaped and darted to catch in her telekinetic grip. “It only takes one fool with a pike to blind the head of a nation. And then it’s goodbye Pax Equestriana. What if those windigos come back, for a start? No, we simply can’t allow that.”

The last of the cake disappeared down his throat. At once, Celestia stood to attention. Decorum or not, she could still picture herself in her old bronze barding.

With the tapestry drawn over her. With two frightened eyes seeing her reborn as a nightmare already lived.

I’m sorry, Clover, she thought, and to her shock she found she didn’t fully mean it. Her horn pulsed slightly.

Slate cast her a frightened look and galloped out of the room, tripping once at the doorway with a thud.

“My dear Duchess Celestia,” boomed the King, and the howling wars clashed behind his words, “I am a stallion wronged by others, and yet longing not to wrong others in turn. ‘Remember San Palomino’ must never become a war cry. Dismal dull as our peacetime is, we are so close to negotiating a future with no fighting. Let not the casus belli toll its deadly bell. See to it these rogues are brought to account for their crimes of high treason.”

Celestia saluted.

Fumbling slightly, the King raised his own hoof to his forehead. “To the Pax Equestriana.”

There was the barest curl of her lip when she replied, “To Equestria.”

And to my family, old and young.

Iron Law

The row of earth ponies threw themselves forwards. All of them jolted backwards from the wall of purple lights, which pulsed white under the impact. One or two spun around, turning the rebound into momentum and bucking the shield instead. Cracks spread along its surface.

“They’re breaking through!” squeaked Slate, whose rust-red helmet rattled while she shook. “They’re breaking through!”

“Hold your position, captain.” Celestia ignored her maid when she dived for cover behind the battlements.

Merely inclining her head forwards, she fired another blast at the dome overhead. Around her, three more of the unicorn officers did the same, creating an upside-down display of shooting stars.

It would help if we weren’t on timber, she thought irritably. But then these are the frontier lands. No one ever built stone fortresses in a day.

Stone fortresses were what they needed, though; far down the temporary log pile that passed for a front wall, splinters and indents were scuffed with hoof marks. Earth ponies could do a lot of damage up close, especially after years of farming had turned their muscles into tight chains and their bones into diamonds.

Far beyond, the dunes of the desert stretched on. A cloud of dust followed the squad of buffalo as they charged, ran up the slope, past the scattering earth ponies, and right into the shield. Bits of magic cracked away like glass, shards shattering and evaporating in midair.

Of course. Celestia groaned into a hoof. The buffalo aren’t exactly happy to help us. I wonder how much grovelling and lying those earth ponies had to do to persuade them?

“There’ll be a rear attack,” said Celestia.

“P-P-Pardon?” said Slate, who squeaked and ducked back down again.

“They know we’re stretched. That’s how they toppled the previous forts; classic draining tactics. We spread our resources to two fronts, and they let their own endurance outlast us. Earth pony tactic. They have the long-term advantage in a siege.”

Weak as a much older mare, Slate forced herself upright again. “P-P-Permission to sp-sp-speak, m-m-m-m-ma’am?”

“Lieutenant!” Celestia waited until one of the officers came over. She resisted the urge to rub under her bronze armour; good as it looked for a stained glass window, it was murder on the saddle. “Take a squadron round the back and slip outside the shield boundary. If there is a rear attack waiting, I want it taken out quietly and quickly. As soon as their best pieces are off the board, we should be ready for a full assault. I just hope they didn’t have the sense to include any buffalo in their rearguard attack.”

As soon as he was gone, she peered up to the skies. Having said that, it does help we’re adopting more than unicornian tactics.

“Aha…” she murmured.

Slate saluted, murmuring “ow” when her hoof hit her red helmet by mistake. “Permission to speak, ma’am?”

Celestia did not look down. “Granted. Sorry. Had to think fast.”

“With all due respect, Your Grace, how are we going to get out of this? None of us have eaten in days. The water barrels need refilling, and the reservoir’s in earth pony territory. Our shield’s already weakening, and we’ve had six desertions since we started. We’ll starve to death! I can’t starve to death! I’ll die!”

“Relax, Captain Slate. We’re entering the final stage now. Ah, here we go.”

Despite the pounding and the yelling and the occasional crash of wood, she smiled. Flapping wings appeared beyond the dome. She heard Slate gasp, and then she lowered the highest arch of the dome, opening a hole for the dozen pegasi. Yoked onto half of them were carts, some bearing barrels, others hay bales and locked chests. Ponies crowded on one cart; as they descended, they waved towards the battlements.

“Pegasus ponies?” Slate gulped. “Oh no, not now.”

“They’re allies. It seems the King did persuade the commander, then. Captain, please rendezvous with the new arrivals. I could do with something to eat.”

Sighing gratefully, Slate galloped towards the far side of the battlements. Ah, poor Slate. Always the housekeeper, never the hero. But you will be one day. I guarantee it. I have faith in you.

Another crash of the shield caught her ear. Down below, the dust cleared while the purple shards vanished. Three buffalo and a dozen earth ponies poured through the hole.

She grinned. Well done, boys and girls. You’ve just tired yourself out for no reason at all.

“Shield down,” she yelled.

As one, the officers switched off their horns. All around the wooden fortress, the purple dome collapsed, became a falling curtain of sparkles, and then wiped itself out of existence. Most of the attackers rammed into and pounded against the timber, shaking the floor under her hooves, but some smarter ones at the back were staring at where the shield had been.

Captain Slate’s imperious barks – once more with the odd trrrrrrrrrrrrill – echoed over the thuds of hooves and the cracks of wood. Soon, the unicorn line munched and sipped from levitating cups. Pegasi zipped across the battlements, carrying bales or barrels.

Celestia’s mouth was sand-logged, but the offered hay brought the juices flowing among her teeth. She shivered at the rush of her glands along her jaw.

“Morning, Pansy,” she said. “Thank you for the relief.”

A mere nod from the pegasus was all she got. Vaguely, Celestia remembered the incident over the old commander’s early “retirement”. The poor dear. Never very close, but still devoted. She opened her mouth to say something comforting, but then shook herself down. No time for that now.

“Captain Slate!” Whether through nerves or newfound rage, Slate practically vibrated herself into place beside the ramparts. Celestia leaned down. “Take our pegasus friends down to get some weapons. I also want the reserve unicorn squad from the main hall. I think they’ve enjoyed their wait for long enough. Our diversion is going to take a much-needed rest. With luck, our brightest and most refreshed should be more than a match for them now.”

“RRRRRRight you are, ma’am!”

Along the line, every other unicorn collapsed or leaned against something, panting heavily or munching on more hay. Even the few that remained standing shone with sweat. Whenever a pegasus with a cup came too close, the unicorns summoned the drink so fast they almost poured it down themselves.

Truly a most dedicated team, she thought. Yet she couldn’t help noticing that she alone wasn’t breathing very hard. Am I holding back? Surely I would have given it my all? So why don’t I feel so drained?

The last few pegasi followed Slate down the steps. Far below, muffled shouts and cheers echoed. Despite herself, Celestia smiled. High spirits. Always a good sign.

Down below, the cracks and thuds stopped. Yells swept over them. By the time the officers peered over the edge, unicorn infantry had ploughed through the wall of earth ponies. Iron pikes and telekinetic glows swung left and right. Pegasi poured out like bees and dive-bombed the jostle. One buffalo fell onto its side. The rest charged, and then got lost in the piling confusion of bodies.

Still watching, Celestia threw another few sticks of hay into her mouth to chew.

Hooves scuffed the wood behind her. She didn’t worry. Most likely they were simply pegasi tired from all the flying.

Steel scratched against a scabbard.

What!?

Years of battlefield paranoia seized her head and swung it round. With a yelp, she kicked back and met hard flesh. The grunting earth pony crumpled to the floor, wincing. His sword clattered across the planks.

Behind him were six others, three clamping their teeth around sword hilts, two swinging flails into black blurs over their heads, and one with no weapons whatsoever. This mare was grinning.

But how!? The Lieutenant was supposed to intercept them!

“Intruders!” she yelled, and then looked left and right. Unicorn officers ignored her, still watching the fight below. One made the mistake of glancing her way, but hastily returned to the fight.

No… There’s no way they didn’t hear me! They can’t ignore me! Even with that scuffle –

Swords swung at once. Celestia yelped and hit the ramparts, the blur of the blades barely inches from her neck. She reared up, aimed her javelin horn, and rolled aside at once before the blades stabbed into the logs.

“For goodness’ sake!” Celestia grabbed the nearest unicorn, who whimpered and squirmed. “Intruders!”

The next officer spun round and fired a blast right into her face.

All was darkness, and stars. Her mind hummed with too many thoughts jumbled together, and she staggered and hit something with her croup. Frantically, she tried blinking the unnatural night from her eyes. Bits of her struggled to put sense together. There was a vague feeling of danger, but she couldn’t remember why. Something to do with unicorns… spells…

Blind panic seized her. Without thinking, she braced her forelegs and lashed out, met nothing, and stumbled sideways.

“Help!” she yelled. “Officer in need!”

She gritted her teeth. She willed her mind to calm.

The radiating chill of steel bit into her leg. Shrieking, she spun round. And then she remembered. That was then. This is now. It’s only a memory.

Whatever spell battered her senses, it faded. Coughing and spluttering, she almost toppled forwards and had to lurch to stop herself falling onto her muzzle. The ramparts, the desert blue sky, the shriek and thuds of battle returned.

She woke up in time to see the last earth pony collapse onto the floor. Behind the figure, Clover the Clever panted.

Clover’s horn dimmed. “Celestia!”

“What!?” Celestia blinked at her, still trying to see through the slight haze. “C-Clover?”

Behind the apprentice, the row of unicorn officers looked up from the ramparts and focused glares on the two of them. At once, the line crouched and aimed horns. Her mind chilled, even though it still had no idea why. The intruders had gotten inside, the unicorns were ignoring her, she’d been hit with something… Celestia shook slightly, trying to will the world to make sense.

“What –” she said.

“It’s the conspiracy!” Clover yelled, lowering herself to pounce, horn pointed beyond Celestia’s face. “You’re in terrible danger!”

Celestia opened her mouth for another question, but then jerked her head round. Behind her, the other row of officers charged up their horns.

Old instincts took over. Clover was here. Clover stood by her, facing the rearguard while Celestia turned back to the first line. Their necks crossed. Their horns sparked. Just like old times.

Still the officers waited; Clover was a mage, and that alone was enough to warrant caution. This time, Celestia was expecting an attack. Even the air shimmered under the strain of magic charging up on all sides.

The glares pinned her down. Celestia glared back.

Traitors… She breathed out, hardly daring to believe the evidence of all those glares. As though from the horizon, the faint cries and crashes of the ground battle surrounded them.

Shooting stars blasted out of a dozen horns at once.

Celestia saw the world flash around her, and the teleportation spell seared through her head like a burn. She gritted her teeth. Faint whiffs of toast stung her nostrils. When the colours resolved, she stood at the end of the ramparts, now behind the officers rapidly turning around to face her. Beyond them, the combined shooting stars of both sides collided. The rest of the battlements vanished behind a bright flare of white light.

No, Celestia thought. Her heart sank. You can’t be…

A second round shot for her.

Flames raged through her mind, and all the complications and confusions blackened and withered away. Without thinking, the spell leapt from her memory and shot through her forehead.

All shooting stars funnelled towards her horn. One-by-one, they splashed over it. She could feel the sheer heat coursing through her head. Even the rogue drops pooled along its length. She might have been impaled between the eyes by a piece of the sun.

Despite herself, she grinned. Maybe one in a thousand unicorns ever reached mage-like magical strength, but there were ways to compensate.

Celestia channelled the accumulated spells into the Dark Reflection Counterspell – the light dimmed to a black spike through the universe – and let it fly.

Unicorns screamed and howled and rolled across the battlements, banging against the ramparts or tumbling down the steps. Splashes of darkness smothered their faces and chests. The last one struggled onto his hooves, but then gave up against his own shaking. He hit the planks, his helmet rattling across to bounce down the steps.

Finally, the bright flare of white light faded away. Clover was surrounded by a purple bubble, against which the shooting star spells pounded away, cracking it. Celestia stepped forwards to gallop –

The bubble expanded so fast it almost exploded. More screams trailed over the edge to the distant clash. Celestia ducked hastily, preventing her own decapitation by flying unicorn, and then the dust of the bubble washed over her, leaving no feeling at all before they puffed out of existence.

They stood at either end, panting, shining with sweat, shaking under the sun as though it were a midwinter storm. Not a body moved among them, though the occasional groan at least proved no one had died.

Celestia gasped with shock. Inside her, the flames died away. Now the ashes of her thoughts settled as gently as snow on dead ground.

A flash later, Clover stood by her side. Her brow huddled under the wisps of smoke rising from her horn.

“It was all set up ahead of time,” she whispered; her own legs quivered as though about to give way. “Those earth ponies aren’t the rearguard attack. They were hired mercenaries. The whole thing was supposed to look like a tragic accident. A stealth assassination. They couldn’t dare attack you upfront.”

“Clover, for pity’s sake.” At once, Celestia shook her mane down. Why am I taking it out on her? “I apologize. I did not mean to be so curt. But I don’t understand. Who… I mean, why… I’ve fought alongside those officers for years. Their loyalty… their years of devotion…”

Movement caught her eye. Her head snapped up.

Galloping up the stairs and straight across to them, the lieutenant raised his black iron sword, his telekinetic spell crackling along his horn, and swung.

With a shriek from Clover, Celestia rammed her aside and forced another teleportation spell to burn her mind. It stabbed everything – her sight, her smell, her sound – and she barely had time to see the flash and the rear of the lieutenant before he swung round. Force of habit jumped to her legs. The blade swung between them, decapitating nothing but her shadow in the air.

They froze, limbs bent, gazes locked. There were no glares on either side.

“You too,” she sighed, “Lieutenant Lilt?”

He gave a slight nod, one warrior to another. No malice burned in his eyes. They had no shine at all.

Iron slashed at her. Clover fired a shot, but a twist of his spell later, the blade vibrated between him and the pulse of purple. It struck the dark metal and vanished.

Clever stallion…

Another slash, and she darted backwards. The Lieutenant had never bothered with any magic beyond simple telekinesis. Not when iron’s dead power had usually done the trick. A thrust, and she was backed up against the ramparts and rearing up. He moved like a tiger, his coat sliding over his bones one moment, his body a full roar of swipes and leaps the next.

Clover fired another shot. It bounced off his armour and arced down to the desert dunes. Out of the corner of her eye, Celestia saw the buffalo herd vanish under a dust cloud, and heard the pounding of hooves dying away.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Lilt,” she said with utter honesty.

Then she ducked. Once more, the Lieutenant slashed, but as she rolled across her flanks and tucked-in limbs, the blade lunged and she felt the thump through the boards. Now she was crouched barely feet away from him.

“No!” she yelled to Clover, who skidded to a halt. “He’s mine.”

For the first time, a snarl of rage burst from the Lieutenant’s lungs. It shocked her; never had she seen him this angry, not in all the years they’d thrown themselves against earth ponies and pegasi. She watched his narrowing eyes. They waited.

Just to make sure, she sent a little magic up through her horn. His gaze flitted to it for a moment.

When he swiped at her muzzle, she leaned back barely inches. The instant it finished, she threw her entire weight forwards and clubbed her head across his face. The clatter of their horns and the bang of his sword on the planks told her everything.

The one capital rule of unicorn etiquette was to never twang another’s horn during a spell. Horns could so easily break, and they were as crucial as arms and legs to most nobles. Many a forward unicorn servant had learned this the hard – and often terminal – way.

For good measure, she spun round and bucked so hard that her knees popped. Sheer recoil threw her onto her chest. Several yards away, the body bounced and thudded.

Clover finally closed her gape. “Um… interesting earth pony tactic.”

Don’t pant. Don’t panic. Don’t do anything other than be cool and calm and collected. Celestia’s lungs threatened to burst in protest. Aches rushed back. No longer scared away, thoughts trickled back into her mind.

A conspiracy… I’d been expecting one sooner or later, but from the unicorns? How? Why? Even the Cloverites respect the traditional honour system. This kind of subterfuge is more pegasine and earth pony…

What on earth am I thinking? Be truly open and equal. Let unicorns scheme and plot too. Yet no matter how many times she repeated the mantra, doubt robbed it of any and all substance.

She stared at the Lieutenant, who struggled to his hooves. Bits of dark armour fell off of him, most of it shattered around his chest. In two strides, she was over him.

You traitor!

His yelp choked halfway through. His neck glowed yellow. She yanked him over her head until he had to bury his muzzle in his collar to glower at her.

“Who planned this?” she said. It wasn’t a growl. It was too restrained to be a growl. Yet inside her chest, the dragon stirred, and she almost felt the smoke billowing out of her mouth.

The Lieutenant said nothing.

“I’ve served the unicorn tribe since the day I was old enough to levitate a sword. We’ve healed each other’s wounds a dozen times over. I would have gone through Tartarus itself if I’d been ordered to do so. Who planned this?”

For all her effort, she got only a traditional, unicornian snort of contempt. Clover’s hoof rested on her shoulder.

“Very well.” She tightened her magical grip until he sighed, and then let go. He collapsed at her hooves.

Clover stared at her, eyes shining. The fight left her weary bones at the sight. Clover, there’s no need to fear me. I only do my duty. You must see me as your friend still.

More softly, she asked, “How did you know to find me?”

“Princess Platinum knew about the plot. She told me as soon as she could, and thank goodness she did! Had I been a mere second late, they would’ve confounded you entirely and killed you.”

Celestia staggered, all fight snatching away her strength as it drained away, and Clover rushed forwards. She felt the younger mare’s weight under her ribs, the warmth of her forelimb braced against her shoulders. Soothing her spirits, she felt the rub of Clover’s burlap hood along her neck where it caught her hairs.

Just like old times. Distant memories loomed out of her wearying mind, the crash and thunder of battle all around them. It didn’t matter which one. She’d always been the first to push her magic too far. And there, dragging her away from the craters in the grass and the crunch of shattered armour underfoot, Clover had always braced her limp form.

The memory shattered.

“How did Princess Platinum know about the plot?” she said suddenly.

Clover stiffened. It was only for a second. But it shouldn’t have happened at all.

Fear and fury stiffened her. She pushed off from her friend and rounded on her. Under her shadow, Clover’s lips clamped around themselves a second too late.

“How did she know, Clover?”

Clover opened her mouth, but only after biting her lip did she speak. “Look, you have to understand. Politics is a very complicated thing. And she never intended any actual harm.”

Celestia sighed. Against the hurricane collecting inside her mind, it was a mere wisp presaging the storm. “I will not be betrayed by you too, Clover. We are under oath never to lie to each other. We have each other’s word. How did Princess Platinum know there would be an ambush?”

“She… she knew about it because… because she knew about the order being given out… Please don’t take this the wrong way. I know you’re confused and angry, and I want to help. And so does she. I gave my word –”

Cheers rose up from the terrain far below. Galloping hooves died away. The sun began to fall across the reddening sky. Around them, the unicorn officers stirred.

Wood thudded as someone clambered up the steps. “Grrrreat news, Your Grrrrrrace! The enemy has been utterly rrrrrrouted!”

They heard her skid to a stop. Neither of them looked up, though Celestia noticed her outline in the corner of her eye.

“Um…” Captain Slate’s voice crouched as low as she did. “Did, did I miss something? Wh-What happened here?”

Clover lowered her head. So that’s it, is it?

“Captain Slate,” said Celestia, not looking away. “Kindly round up the unicorn officers and place them in the makeshift jails. I’m afraid there has been an… incident.”

They won’t talk to me. And it doesn’t matter if they report back to their boss that the mission was a failure; no political would dare touch a mage, not even an apprentice one. If they wanted me killed quietly, then they’ll also want the incident covered up as quietly as possible. They know there’s always the earth pony mercenaries. Who’d believe them after all?

“Um. An incident?” said Slate in a small voice.

“Yes.” And what evidence do I have, really? My word and Clover’s. Mage or no mage, she’s not supposed to meddle in political affairs. That’s the whole point of granting them carte blanche in magical power. Mutually balanced stability. We don’t want the ancient troubles back, not even if it means letting them go free.

Besides, Platinum won’t talk. Not if…

Still without looking up, Celestia added, “You should find some rope and chains inside the jail’s stockroom. If you’d be so kind, captain?”

Slate didn’t need telling twice; her hooves thudded down the steps and died away.

Celestia leaned closer. “Clover. I want the truth. You are her friend. I understand that. But you are not a liar, and I won’t tolerate a secret if it involves risking my life. So I won’t ask again. How. Did. Platinum. Know!?”

Below her, Clover’s lip struggled to hold back the words.

Princess Platinum swept through the grand portal, head held high, silver crown gleaming on her elegant curls, and royal purple gown flowing over her slicked-down white body. A few wet hoofprints followed her. She was smelling of lavender, tinged with the sharp sting of bath salts.

Across the vast hall of a room, past rows of stained glass windows, past tapestries of rainbow colours and volcanic warm hues and wintry blueness, she strode onwards. Her four-poster bed bloomed with walls of velvet and quilts. Three of her mattresses poked out underneath. A sweep of her magic, and she nodded. No annoying peas this time.

She sat at her dressing table. Or, more accurately, she threw back the tails of her robe and eased her regal haunches onto the crimson cushion. Five reflections beamed back at her. While she patted powder onto her cheeks, she hummed some ancient ditty to herself. A sweet lullaby, one Clover had shared with her.

Then she froze. Her pointed eyebrows lowered like lances. In all five mirrors, the grand doors remained wide open.

They slammed shut. She spun round, and Celestia stepped out of the shadows.

“You!” she squeaked.

“Your Highness.” Celestia, pale as death, hairs still singed with the teleportation spells, did not stop walking slowly towards the princess. “We need to talk.”

The Copperhead

The stool clattered when Princess Platinum shot back, pressing herself up against the dresser so suddenly that the mirrors rocked back and forth. Her teeth chattered.

Celestia strode forwards, slow and patient as death. Below her unshod hooves, the carpet blackened. Slight flames flickered for a short time before fading away.

“D-D-D-Duchess Celest-t-tia!” Platinum tittered, her head twisting to and fro, her foreleg raised either as a shield or as a prelude to fleeing. “Th-This is a most un-unorthod-d-d-dox meeting, ahahaha. Y-You know better than not to apply for an appointment. Wh-What brings you here?”

“A fair cop,” said Celestia. It was all she could do not to breathe heavily.

Platinum’s gaze darted towards the treasure chests. They were piled up at the foot of the bed. Most unicorns would’ve kept a music box or a small travelling case.

“Interestingly enough, no.” Celestia passed the midway point, right below the chandelier and flanked several yards either side by bouquets mounted on torch brackets. “Clover taught me that particular lesson. ‘To cop’ comes from capere, Old Unicornian for ‘capturing’. It has nothing to do with ‘copper’.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Platinum shook so much the mirrors vibrated. “I-I’m sure that F-Father would be most pleased to see you, but r-really you should be reporting directly to him. I-I never get involved in p-politics or m-m-military m-matters.”

You’re talking too much. I don’t want to see you squirm, but…

No. I really want to see you squirm. If Clover had been just a second too late, I’d have been cooling in some soldier’s grave while you were listening to the musicians playing on.

“I want the truth, Your Highness,” said Celestia. Five reflections of her closed in behind the princess.

Barely inches above the wide eyes, the bared teeth, the neck trying to collapse in on itself, she stopped. If she lowered her horn now, she’d spear the princess through the garnet of the crown.

Naturally, a duchess would be due for the chopping block for getting this close to a royal. Even now, Celestia’s heart cried at her for making the mare almost flatten herself against the drawers. Nevertheless, the Lieutenant’s blade flashed through her memory. Iron cut cleanly through magic, and other things besides.

Celestia’s horn glowed. Platinum flinched, but lowered both cannons. One of the chests sprang open. Coins rattled inside, and three zipped through the air to hover between them.

“Coppers.” Celestia shook her head sadly. “No one would dare search a royal bedroom, would they?”

Platinum steeled her face. “I’m perfectly capable of owning common coinage, Your Grace.”

At the word “common”, Celestia winced. Instead, she turned the coin over and over. Despite the low light of sunset through the stained glass, her magical aura was enough to pick out the engravings.

“Not these coins, I imagine,” she murmured. More calmly than her beating heart, she spoke to the twirling coin. “Copper is certainly a wonderful substance, Your Highness. Energy flows through it. Did you know Clover and I were working on a means of channelling power through copper pieces? And of course, it’s useful in everyday, common ways too; the earth pony smithies combine it with tin to craft bronze. And pegasus ponies adore the material. They use it for razors, pumps and aqueducts, treasure boxes, little twisted bits of artwork… even musical instruments like harps and lyres.”

“Well yes, yes of course.” Relief quavered through each syllable. “I mean, I am an aficionado for all things pegasine, ahahaha. Nothing strange about common coin collections in a lady’s boudoir, is there not?”

Celestia stared past the coin. “Then you know all about the beliefs of the Ancient Pegasine Empire?”

Platinum’s grin creased the skin around her face. Behind her neck, the faux fur pelt slid past her shoulders.

“Vaguely?” she said.

“Therefore, of course, the ancient goddess of the pegasi – Cup Rum – would be too obvious to mention.”

“Cup Rum. But of course. I knew it was on the tip of my tongue.”

“And you hardly need me to point out how they came to associate copper with her most loving traits: its softness, its flexibility, or its ability to stretch further than most metals ever manage. All ancient history, I assume, to one as well-read as yourself.”

“Clover might have mentioned one or two little lessons, yes.” Platinum’s hoof groped on the chest of drawers.

“In fact, that’s what attracted unicorn alchemists over the ages to copper. Pegasus chronicles often mention its power to help release energy. Clover and I – and many others before us – believe there’s something in these ancient lessons. Copper helps to give us life. So far, we’ve found traces of it in the most unexpected of places: almonds, sunflower seeds, bran. All staples of the pegasine diet. One might say it accounts for their incredible drive, if not necessarily their intelligence.”

“Um, right. I suppose I could –” This time, Platinum had the sense to cut herself off. Hastily, she looked away from the stare.

“So it’s really quite sweet of you to keep them close by. I imagine that would be a most touching gesture, if anyone outside this room knew about it.”

Platinum if anything turned paler. The three coins zipped back to the chest, which slammed shut. Celestia breathed in the lavender caresses and the tickle of bath salts. Mixed in now was the acrid stench of fear.

“Listen,” whispered Platinum, “I-I didn’t want to do it. Th-That’s why I sent Clover out after you. I-I had to make sure no one suspected anything. I-I mean, a mage figuring things out on her own? Does not Star Swirl the Bearded see all and hear all and know all? Why n-not his own ap-p-p-prentice?”

“Didn’t want to do what, Your Highness?”

Platinum’s gaze travelled up to the horn. “Oh, for pity’s sake. If you’re going to end me now, then please do so! I can’t stand all this, this suspense and playing around! Oh, you are a ruffian!”

“Had I wanted to end you now, I assure you we would not be talking at all.” Celestia closed her eyes and swelled with the breath coming in. “I do not play around. I only talk when I think there’s a hopeful chance of learning something. Besides, why on earth would I want to end your life?”

Because she’s overdue a little hardship. Because she sleeps in a four-poster bed while Clover sleeps on flagstones in the corridor. Because she thinks a little smile and the odd polite word makes up for years and years of treating ponies as nothing but her servants. Because she told soldiers to look away while I was to be beheaded by a coward.

Celestia willed herself not to twitch a single muscle in her face. She could not give in to the anger.

She leaned back. Platinum stopped shaking.

“It wasn’t me!” the princess squeaked, throwing herself at Celestia’s hooves. “I was just supposed to give the instructions!”

“What instructions?”

“They said they only wanted to be rid of any sympathizers. Sympathizers! Ponies who actually like living in Equestria together, instead of fighting those brutish scuffles with those dirty earth ponies and those rough-and-tumble pegasi!”

Deep within Celestia’s head, a little version of herself ground its teeth together. Dirty earth ponies? Rough-and-tumble pegasi? She knows Smart Cookie and Private Pansy herself. How can she be so blind?

Then she realized that was the wrong question. How could she not be blind? Until the union, that was all anyone had known. Unicorns looked down their noses at everyone. Pegasi always said “What are you looking at?” before kicking you. The average earth pony couldn’t find their cutie mark without a map and someone to stop them chasing their own tails forever.

Princess Platinum had greeted the first settlers with open forelimbs and a gracious smile. Rumour had it that she occasionally hugged Clover, though everyone passed this on with a snigger and a “yeah, right” or equivalent. And she had taken to the new opportunities for being pampered, certainly. Fermented juices were only the start.

Platinum slipped past her and paced from side to side, from one bouquet to another. Patiently, Celestia followed her progress, head swivelling.

“What’s wrong with the union?” said Celestia gently. “Apologies, pardon me: what specifically is wrong with it?”

Princess Platinum barked a laugh. “Nothing whatsoever. Dear me, why on earth would there be? I have nothing against earth ponies myself, nor have I a quarrel with even the most quarrelsome of pegasi. One must keep an open mind, after all. They do constitute the salt of the earth and the proud warriors of the sky, do they not?”

Not trusting herself to speak, Celestia inspected the novelty glazed cauldron beside the bedstead. ‘Salt of the earth’. ‘Proud warriors of the sky’. In principle, they were compliments. It didn’t matter that Cookie preferred the unicornian pastime of archery, or that Private Pansy would sooner don an earth pony’s gardening hat than a pegasine war helmet. Even Clover had spent more time practising magic shields and bolts on frontier armies than she’d ever spent mixing alchemical acids. Star Swirl’s monthly travels had seen to that.

She wasn’t surprised to see the cauldron was copper-bottomed. “How lucky for me that Clover was ready and waiting.”

Platinum stiffened in mid-stride. It lasted several heartbeats. “Yes,” she said, not quite hiding the sniff.

Celestia peered at the copper finish, or at least she leaned down and made a point of inclining her head. Despite her casual look, her knees were tensed, her ears upright, her mouth a thin line. Fortunately, Platinum knew better than to be fooled by it. She hadn’t bolted for the door, despite the lack of obstacles.

“I wonder now,” Celestia murmured to the cauldron’s eyelash engravings, “if anyone else was less fortunate than me.”

After all, several unicorns had vanished in recent months, ever since the Pax Equestriana had been declared. Lord Gleamberry had apparently been kidnapped by a pegasus supremacist party, in spite of there being no feathers or witnesses to prove pegasi had even seen the mansion. Lady Rotunda supposedly died of a heart attack, and the coroners had mysteriously abandoned the investigation and moved from huts to houses with two more storeys. Most of the rest had been no-rankers with a tendency to shout on street corners. Whoever the unseen criminals were, they targeted practically any unicorn who made a speech about the need for earth-pegasus-unicorn pony unity.

Although, oddly, none of the victims were pegasi or earth ponies. They could still shout on street corners.

Platinum stood still in the middle of the room and glanced at her. Both cheeks were reddening, either with heat or with shame.

You owe me your life, thought Celestia. As though it was happening there and then, she could see Platinum on the pile of mattresses, sleeping mask drawn up. It was the last time she ever opened any of the windows, however much she moaned and whined about the stuffiness puffing up her skin.

The snake slithering out of the dark and stars beyond. A thump on the carpet. A shine of metallic scales, crossing the next window, winding up the bed, leaving drops of venom like breadcrumbs.

Triggering the nexus spell.

Clover and Celestia bursting in. Both summoning the snake from the quilts. Both smashing the windows and dragging through six pegasi in dark tunics, with red feathers protruding from behind their ears. Pansy-petitioners, they’d found out later. Ironically, the would-be assassins had complained about being treated like brutes.

Platinum, screaming. Throwing herself onto Celestia’s hooves. Kissing and thanking her over and over and over.

“I’m not the first one you’ve condemned,” said Celestia quietly. Her voice was the tumble of a pebble, minutes away from the whole mountainside giving way. “Am I, Platinum?”

“I didn’t want to do it.” The princess resumed pacing, trying to walk out of her own living nightmare. “I didn’t want to do it. I used to do everything for him: attend the intertribal summits, seek out new land, make decrees on behalf of the kingdom. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Ever since the union, he’s been making stranger and stranger requests.”

“For ‘him’?” said Celestia.

Too late, Platinum rammed a hoof into her mouth.

“Why would ‘he’ be giving instructions to you? Forgive me if I misunderstand, but you must have told the entire kingdom by now about your support for Puddinghead and Hurricane. Hardly an enemy of the union’s supporters, are you? Moreover, you are a princess. I should think those qualities alone would make you the last pony to be wiping out politicals on someone else’s say-so.”

“I’m… I’m just… well-connected…”

Celestia straightened up. “True.” And even better; you’re unpopular. You can’t string two-and-two together without Clover’s help. You whine and wheedle so much anyway that a little more after you’re caught won’t shake anyone’s beliefs about you. Even the unicorn nobles only put up with you because you’re the King’s daughter. In short, you’re the perfect scapegoat.

“Look, I did send Clover after you!” said Platinum in a rush. “I could have simply kept quiet about it and continued playing with my rubber duckie! But I did the brave thing and sent my best friend after you, and you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, I believe! If anything, you should be thanking me! I’m on your side!”

You were in my house, drinking my juice, admiring my art, running poor Slate ragged, and knowing the whole time you were sending me to my death. Who could possibly have made you do anything!? You didn’t even cringe with guilt!

“And, after the frankly gallant manner in which you saved my life, I figured it was the least I could do to reimburse you.”

A bolt of lightning flashed from Celestia’s forehead to the tip of her horn. When she swung round, she saw Platinum darting backwards towards the portal.

“What did you say?” Celestia’s voice slashed at the air. “‘Reimburse’?”

Platinum barely stammered the sentence through all the gibbering. On the second try, she managed to squeak, “In an honourable way, yes! N-Not like some earth pony m-mercenary! C-Certainly not!”

The sword of Celestia’s voice trembled, ready to skewer. “You stand there, having ordered my death and countless others, for something you don’t even begrudge, while you ate imported caviar and treated Clover to a bean in a bowl, and you dare compare yourself to a mercenary? Favourably, I might add?”

“No one knows!” Platinum’s voice was on the edge of high-pitched sobs. “They were only accidents or lowly criminal deeds! Who’d suspect a princess!?”

Celestia’s heart burned with the effort of fuelling her rage. A star lit up on the end of her horn.

“What price, Platinum? Riches, artworks, patronage? What could ever justify selling your heart and your soul?”

“I sent Clover! I didn’t want you to die! But he said it was for the greater good! If we rushed into too tight a union, we’d end up betrayed! You were keeping dark secrets, he said! You wouldn’t listen to reason, he said! I had to do it! He made so much sense at the time! I was confused and scared! Oh, woe is me! Oh, woe…”

Celestia narrowed her eyes at the tears streaking the princess’ face. At the snivelling sobs. At the babbling still fighting against the squeak.

The star dimmed and went out. Carefully, as though made of glass, Celestia straightened up.

“It’s your father, isn’t it?” she said. No emotion lived in her speech.

To her surprise, Platinum wiped her face down on the back of her gown’s hemline. Instantly, the princess’ hauteur solidified across her face.

“You know,” she said through a noseful of snot. “I only have to scream and the guards will come galloping in.”

Her yelp was cut off; barely inches from the portal, she glowed yellow and shot across the room. A jolt later, she hovered almost muzzle to muzzle.

Celestia bared her teeth. “Perhaps you should think before you speak, Your Highness.”

“Are you… g-going to…?”

Disturbed by the rush, the chandeliers overhead soon tinkled to a stop. Magic sparkled around Platinum and along Celestia’s horn.

No. It can’t be that simple. Platinum’s a lot of things, but she’s not a monster. Don’t let the fear tell you what to do. That’s what Clover used to say. And always look for the light.

Gently, she lowered Platinum to the carpet, not releasing her until all four legs had braced themselves for the weight. Magic zipped out of being. She bent down and kissed the princess near the base of the horn.

“No,” she whispered. “I’m not. But I want you to appreciate the gravity of your actions.”

It can’t be him, she thought. He may be the only pony powerful enough to coerce her, and he may be the least committed to the union – “Our tribe first, eh?” – but it just can’t be him. Not after so many decades. Not now.

“Good,” breathed Platinum. “Because if you’d done… whatever you were going to do… you’d be ruining your own life. I mean it.”

“Who’s been telling you what to do, Your Highness? Perhaps I can help out?”

“You? Help?” Platinum curled her lip. “What could you possibly do against him? Above and beyond that, how could you even know who ‘he’ is? I have most certainly not revealed his identity yet.”

“I understand why you’re protecting him,” said Celestia, fighting to stay calm and not strangle her. “However, you must realize what he’s doing to Equestria. The Pax can only last as long as ponies are willing to work for it and keep it together. We need leaders and inspirations, ponies who can encourage everyone else by example. Can you imagine what would happen if they were all cut down?”

Platinum’s frown never wavered.

“And,” added Celestia, “what would that mean to Clover?”

The frown evaporated. “She’ll… manage. She’s always known…”

“Really? I rather think she’d have put a stop to this had she always known. Imagine the creator of the Fires of Friendship, keeping quiet while ponies vanish.”

In the dusky light, Platinum’s eyes gleamed, as did the trails down her cheeks.

“I’m not the first to confront you about this, am I? And Clover didn’t even know about it until I was singled out. Did she?”

“How could I have told her what I’d done!?” Platinum slumped where she stood, gown flowing over the carpet, head hanging with the weight of her own words. “She’d set her heart so much on keeping Equestria alive, and I don’t blame the poor soul! I never would have done anything to hurt her! She knew that! Oh, I know what you’re thinking; I ride on her saddle and make her fetch my garments, and I never listen to anything that’s not a ‘yes, your highness’ or a ‘no, your highness’. But she likes that! She always wants to be so humble! Not many princesses in antiquity would have tolerated her strange ways. I did! I’m not a bad pony!”

Celestia winced, but part of her made her nod her head in agreement, and it wasn’t merely for the look of the thing. Everyone knew Clover had been born several leagues below the nobility. On the day Star Swirl had followed the stars to find his prophesied apprentice, she’d been sleeping in a crib made from thrown-away kindling and potato sacks. No one ever questioned why a mage would want to look like a peasant. Mages were beyond questioning.

Her gaze flickered towards the chest. Copper coins. One copper-bottomed cauldron. Even the engraved money had “copperhead” on it, and the profile of a copperhead snake.

Still, trust Platinum to think equality meant giving royal approval to things. She’s spent too many years inside one castle or another. No wonder no one likes her. Even the King goes out riding with the nobles once a day. How they persuaded her to go looking for a new land, I’ll never know.

“You were braver than you think, Your Highness.” Celestia managed to keep a straight face. “But why didn’t you tell her sooner? Did you fear ‘he’ would find out?”

Platinum shook her head at the floor.

“Or is it because I’m her friend too?”

At once, Platinum looked up. “Y-You think she’s still g-going to be m-my fr-fr-friend after this?”

“She begged me not to come.” Celestia summoned the magic once more, and the Lieutenant’s coin, until now lodged behind her chest plate, slipped out and rotated slowly between them. “Why copper coins? You must know it was a lowly metal. Hardly befitting a princess, one might think?”

“Ha,” barked Platinum, twisting her mouth and wrinkling her nose. “I am not so snobbish as all that! It would have made a perfect cover.” Sensing this was the wrong tone, she added, “Though of course that is nothing to be proud of.”

“Is that the only reason?”

Another image swirled inside her own head. Platinum, alone amid the vast expanses and mountain of wooden dolls and rocking horses. Muttering under her breath how she was going to grow up to be a lady someday. Swinging her little filly legs and booming with nasally speeches and high-pitched war declarations. And there was Clover beside her, ears cocked, eyes wide, a one-filly audience in burlap. The only other foal in the room.

Copper coins were the most Clover would ever have held.

Celestia saw the portrait between two stained glass windows. The King of the unicorns, booming pigments and bursting brushstrokes, towered over them like a shouting house. His embracing limbs and rising horn glinted with gold. Despite herself, she shivered.

It just couldn’t be…

“What are you going to do?” whispered Platinum.

“What I must. Equestria is in danger. I am oath-bound to protect my country and my ponies.” She stood up and ambled around Platinum towards the grand exit. “I fear the King and Equestria cannot co-exist without imminent catastrophe.”

Lightning crashed inside her. Boiling seas roared and thundered across her mind. And if it is him, if he’s behind every setback we’ve had…

“But surely, you’re not going to actually, really…”

Celestia didn’t dare let as much as a tic escape her. She continued to amble forth. The doorway to a new life loomed before her. Gears turned inside her head. Springs creaked with pressure. Pumps began rising and falling.

He’s the last pony you’d expect. He’s not stupid; with or without disappearances, a king has to stay sharp to stay on the throne. Hundreds of monarchs throughout the ages must have honed their political weapons just as keenly as they honed swords and arrowheads. Worse, he’s got his own connections, not just Platinum’s. Everyone loves him. Even his enemies would nod politely and tip their helmets if he swept by.

And he’s still Platinum’s father.

At the door, she crafted a small smile across her muzzle and aimed it at Platinum. “I mean that we will have to adjust to a world without Equestria,” she lied.

Then she left the warmth of the boudoir and entered the chilling breeze of the stone corridor. Before the whole wooden edifice slammed shut, she glanced back in time to see Platinum biting a hoof.

Mercury Poisoning

“It’ll never work,” moaned Slate as she paced back and forth. “It’ll never work. She’s mad. She’s genuinely, utterly mad.”

“It will work!” snapped Clover. “Trust me. It has to. And she most certainly is not mad.”

Still, as she sat on the hard chairs inside Chancellor Puddinghead’s stone cottage, she felt her own stomach knot and twist. All she could do was clench her jaw against it.

Smart Cookie grunted through the quill in her mouth. From behind the main desk, the Secretary of the Earth Pony Tribe scribbled form after form, shifting them aside one after another with a hoof. For a moment, she dropped the rattling feather into the inkwell.

“Ah know it ain’t easy, Clover,” she said in as steady a voice as she could manage. “It’s just that sometimes you gotta think of the big picture. She’s right there, at least.”

Clover’s whole face sagged with the sigh. “Oh, Cookie! Not you too!”

“It’s pragmatism, is what it is. Tain’t easy to accept when your closest friends show… uh… the less bright sides of themselves. It’s just part of livin’. Ah should know. Ah’ve worked under Puddinghead for years, and sometimes Ah still wonder why she ain’t been thrown out of office yet.”

Slate reared up to the desk surface, forcing Cookie to drag the inkwell away. “Yes! Yes! Why hasn’t she been thrown out of office yet? You don’t intend to tell me that fruitcake actually gets any votes, do you?”

“Now, just you hold your horses, lippy –”

Clover ignored the raised accents and turned back to the porthole window. Candles burned along the walls, but beyond the glass was pure darkness. No stars twinkled tonight. The pegasi had scheduled a stratus cover.

Inside her head, the words of the Dirtville town crier echoed off her skull. She’d always come down to the earth pony town and listened to his shouts across the plaza. Earth ponies had the biggest families, the closest ties, and the worst habits for gossip anywhere in Equestria. The town crier often knew about distant wars and local births and deaths faster than the unicorn scribes did.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Between the imaginary clatter of his bell and the murmuring from the crowd, his voice dragged down her ears. Duchess Celestia strikes defensive division down! Madness grips unicorn’s finest! Reward for any news on white warrior’s whereabouts!

“She let them,” Clover whispered to her folded hooves. “How could she let them?”

Oh, she knew the reason well enough. The unicorn traitors had seen Clover and Celestia resist, and not even she had known how to modify their memories. Not that she wanted to. The ethical concerns alone kept her stomach churning and boiling. Slate herself had seen the carnage. It would have been the King’s finest regiment against two rogues, and so far Clover’s tip-off was unknown. After all, mages broke the rules all the time. Prophecies, visions, unnatural senses…

Clover was no problem. She winced. Clover was no problem at all to a king, not when Star Swirl was several hundred miles away and barely weeks into a months-long journey. Slate had several alibis. Besides, hardly any unicorns would venture into Dirtville, union or no union.

The King knows we’re coming. Celestia has to stay out of sight, and she knows it. I hope I don’t live to regret this.

Finally, the door swung back, and Chancellor Puddinghead bounced in on her tail. At once, Slate and Cookie fell silent, the former moving off the desk, the latter plucking her quill from the inkwell.

“Morning, afternoon, evening, and night!” A final hop threw Puddinghead onto all four hooves before them. “A little birdie told me there’s political-type trouble a-brewing in snob castle. Am I right or am I right?”

Clover stood to attention and bowed low enough to sniff the boards. “Your Chancellorship.”

“Pfft, puh-lease, Clovey.” Puddinghead waved a hoof irritably, scattering glitter. “We’re not unicorns. Gad, we’d better not be. Well, she is” – she pointed to Slate, who glanced about in panic – “and obviously you are. No offence, natch. The point is, no kowtowrowmowblowsnowthrowdrowbowknowflowbro-crowing. You got all that? We’re all friends here, right?”

Her smile frosting over, Clover begged Cookie through her eyes, and merely got a shrug in reply. “This is important news. You may have heard about Duchess Celestia’s recent disappearance.”

“What, you mean all that ‘Duchess is Deserter’ stuff the town crier kept shouting about outside my office all day so I couldn’t concentrate, the swine?”

Clover nodded. “That’s right, Your Chancellorship.”

“Nope. Never heard about it.”

Despite Clover’s narrowing eyes, she saw not a peep or a tic or a telltale flicker of a smirk on Puddinghead’s face. After a while of being stared at, Puddinghead cocked her head.

“You zonin’ out there, Clovey?”

“No, it’s just… Never mind. The point is that Celestia isn’t a deserter. The King tried to get rid of her.”

Slate beamed with pride. “The key word being ‘tried’, of course.”

Puddinghead slammed hoof onto hoof like a fist. “I knew he was up to no good! All that going around, being nice and jolly and signing fancy-pants peace treaties at everypony. Well I say, once a scheming, uptight unicorn, always a scheming, uptight unicorn present-company-excepted. Well, Clover, any friend of Cookie’s is a friend of mine. Just say the word, we’ll have his digestive tract for that thing you use to hold up your stockings, what’s it called?”

I’m with Slate: how exactly did she get elected? “Garters?” said Clover.

Tapping her desk, Smart Cookie coughed and leaned forwards. “Chancellor, we ain’t startin’ a war. That’s exactly what he wants us to do. He ain’t so keen on this union thing, whatever he pretends to say otherwise. It’s ‘cause of his stupid separate districts thing that we can’t even mix housin’ up without him goin’ on about preservin’ our identities and our tribal heritage.”

“Such as it is,” muttered Slate, who blinked when she realized she’d said it too loudly.

“Come again, you puffed-up popinjay?”

“Nothing! Nothing!”

“And Celestia’s merely the latest target.” Clover tried to burn her gaze through Puddinghead’s own, through several layers of delusions and fantasies, to will her to understand. “He’ll try again. Unless we can expose his secrets to everyone.”

Puddinghead saluted, knocking her plum pudding hat across one ear. “Gladly! You can count on us!”

“Hold on a sec, Chancellor.” Cookie rubbed her chin. “Clover, why don’t you and Platinum jus’ tell everyone what’s going on? Tell all the ponies what you know? We believe you anyway, an’ the Commander would want to dig around to find more clues if he thought the King was after him.”

Clover didn’t meet her eye. Beside her, she could feel Slate shaking the floorboards as she began pacing again.

No! We can’t! We’ve already got splinter groups all over the place. The leaders need to show unity! If the King loses everyone’s confidence, then it could upset the union entirely. It’d only take one tribe’s fall before the rest collapsed into suspicion and hatred again. After all, everyone thinks I invented the Fires of Friendship. Me, the unicorn and the mage! I can’t betray the monarchy. Even helping Celestia, I was technically following royal orders. And I’m close friends with the princess…

And should the King go down, and it turns out Platinum had been helping him… I can’t. I can’t tell the truth. No one else would understand.

There has to be another way.

“It’s complicated,” she murmured to the boards. “I have a plan, but it’ll need all the help we can get…”

Clover the Clever raised her leg to the sheer oak, and hesitated. Closing her eyes, she rapped her hoof against the wood until a voice called, “Come in!”

“Ah, Clover,” said Platinum when she entered. “Excellent timing, my darling! Would you give me your honest opinion? Most of my retinue just say how lovely I look regardless – which is perfectly true – but I wouldn’t mind a less rose-tinted valuation, if you catch my meaning.”

Every stained glass unicorn stared down at them both before the torch brackets of the corridor were slammed out of sight. Around them, the expanses of carpet and tapestry begged to be filled; ghostly fillies ran about the floor, one white with a miniature dress on, the other deep purple and with her tiny hood down. They were haunted by the echoes of childish laughter.

No! This isn’t the time for reminiscing!

By the time Clover had crossed the vast shadows of the boudoir, she’d steeled her face. No point waiting any longer. I have to know.

Opposite her five reflections, Platinum patted white powder onto her face. Only she seemed to know why; her face was so naturally pale that Clover could never tell the difference.

“You look…” she began, and then stiffened her jaw. “Actually, you look no different. Why are you wearing that stuff?”

Platinum sighed and continued patting her cheeks. “I will not be drawn into another luxury-versus-necessities debate with you, Clover. I really will not. Why don’t you give up on this silly subterfuge nonsense and come spend time with me? So long as you don’t crease my towels, I’d love your company at the Seven Hot Springs Heaven Site. Father already made sure I had an entire spring all to myself.” She coughed out some of the white cloud. “Please?” she added as an afterthought.

How can you possibly be thinking of a bath at a time like this? Frowning, Clover shook her head.

“Oh, pooh-pooh to your ‘sense of duty’ silliness.” The pad landed in its case. “You should join me, Clover. If you go up against my father, he’ll take away everything. You can’t have that! I know those library books of yours aren’t much, but even I can tell they mean the world to you. I’d hate to see him take that away from you!”

“He can try,” growled Clover.

“Please, Clover! Come to your senses! That boorish duchess is poisoning your mind with her sneaking around and writing those garbled messages –”

“It’s called a secret code, Your Highness.”

“Father will catch her at it. She’s doomed, Clover. And I have absolutely no intention of watching my personal mage get dragged to the chopping block. There’s a limit to what you can get away with, and he’s already looking for an excuse to blame you along with that ruffian you call a duchess.”

Clover bit down so hard her gums screamed in pain. “Celestia happens to be my friend. I won’t abandon her.”

“But you’ll abandon me, the princess friend. Doesn’t that count for something?” Platinum summoned the eyelash curlers and closed one eye for the tricky operation. “Besides,” she said to the mirror, “her plan is pure pegasine piffle. Anyone would think she wants a war between the tribes.”

The twitch of the lips. The way she avoided any more eye contact. The slight spit in her voice.

“You’re worried he’ll find out,” whispered Clover. “Aren’t you?”

“Me? Of course not! Father has been kindness itself to me. He runs the country so I don’t have to, and now he’s teaching me what to do in case he has to pass it on. How can he possibly be wrong?”

I can tell you’re bluffing. It’s in the slight shake of your hooves. I can always tell, Platinum.

“The pegasus commander certainly likes him,” muttered Clover. “Doesn’t that tell you what you need to know?”

She’d attended rallies for the commander – mostly made up of pegasi, she couldn’t help noticing – when he’d deigned to lower his cloud platforms to street level. Overhead, the underside of the cloud city hovered like a threatening glacier poised to crush them all. To this blinding backdrop, he’d spoken loudly and at length.

About gratitude between tribes. About pride in one’s own army. About the natural dignity of the pegasi and the unicorns. About the work ethic of the earth ponies. Most of all, he’d spoken about the drive to greatness, though no one had been clear what he’d had in mind. Obviously not the centuries of warfare, surely. Pegasi had moved on since then…

She’d heard the crowd chattering about him afterwards. No one had dared heckle him or shout criticisms. Pegasi didn’t bother with secret framed accidents; rumour had it that he personally had arrested over a thousand earth pony protesters. The armoured guards always surrounded him during public speeches.

Lastly, he spoke a lot about the need for the spirit of competition. Clover was not a complicated political thinker, and she still remembered the heat and the light from the Fires of Friendship. Perhaps she was missing something about the current context, but she was utterly certain the spirit of competition hadn’t been prominent at that time.

Platinum patted her cheeks again and snorted a sneeze. Suspicion gripped Clover’s brow.

“Is that…” She levitated the pad out of Platinum’s grip. One checking spell was enough, a bar of purple light cruising over the contours and pits of the pad. “This powder has mercury in it.”

“Quicksilver,” said Platinum, scowling away from her.

“We’ve discussed this before, Your Highness.” Clover’s mind settled in for another round. Sheer practice had worn her down to the kind of patience only resignation could provide. “Mercury is dangerous. You shouldn’t be using it.”

“The pegasi use it all the time. Pansy uses it in that ointment stuff she takes. So if you don’t mind, a princess can hardly be excluded just because her friend happens to believe, for some reason, that it can turn you nutty.”

Her magic made a bid for the pad, but Clover raised it several yards out of reach.

“Your Highness, please. It’s my duty to protect you.” Shoot! That came out wrong!

“Oh, oh! Oh! So it’s your duty, is it? Well, don’t feel obliged to spend any time around me, my dear dutiful Clover! Excuse me if we happen to know a little more about that ‘original matter’ philosophy than you do!”

Clover struggled not to pound her own face. “Mercury isn’t the original matter! It can’t be! Celestia and I did the experiments with snow and acid. Thirty-nine degrees below freezing point of water, it hardens into a workable metal. Just because it’s usually liquid, doesn’t mean it’s magical!”

“Harrumph!” Platinum swivelled on her cushion, making it squeak in a most unseemly way. Her nose turned up to the air.

The ghosts of old squabbles haunted them now. Clover cast a glance across the dark room, to the glowing arch where the moonlight passed through a stained glass image of King Thule the Ultimate. Ghostly fillies shouted at each other, cracking their voices while a ripped book lay between them.

No. Don’t think of her like that. She’s not like that. Not really.

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” she said as calmly as she could manage.

Platinum said no more. Recognizing the signs, Clover slunk over to the portal, ignoring the phantom crying. She always cried a lot. I never meant to hurt her. I couldn’t control my magic. Sometimes, she could be so crazy.

Never mind that now. Focus on Celestia’s plan. Trust in the plan.

As she passed through the closing gap of the door, she squeezed her eyelids together and focused. Clover stepped out of the boudoir surrounded by prickling chills. When she emerged into the corridor, she opened her eyes and raised a white hoof.

The unicorn soldier checked herself over for any purple blotches. Some sparkles remained, but she stared at them until they faded to white and stopped shimmering. The purple hue of magic zipped up the last gaps. Sadly, there was nothing she could do about the magic itself.

I hope no one looks too closely. Best not to use Impersonation Illusion at all, if I can help it.

Nothing of the cloud city could be seen. She could only tell it was there at all because the stars stopped around an obvious dark patch, obscured as they were by the cumulostratus foundations. A whole county could have been ripped from another continent and placed in the sky to hang.

To any outsiders, they were two unicorn guards. Thick as beech trunks, plated with lemon-hued armour, and staring as expressionlessly as moss-covered boulders, they didn’t dare move an inch. After all, the spell worked best if they didn’t move around too much. Three-dimensional complications would ensue.

Clover glanced across to Celestia. She was staring up at the skies with a hungry twinkle in each eye. Or maybe they were just starlit reflections. It was impossible to say.

Two stars winked out. Before Clover had noticed this much, they winked back into existence. Aha. A silhouette.

Fluttering wings beat harder and harder. Both of the illusion guards lit up their horns, one with a purple glow, the other a yellow one. Two pegasi landed on the grass before them.

“Commander.” Celestia saluted to the pair.

“It’s Captain now,” snarled Hurricane, who shook down her brown plate armour as though trying to throw off a dress. “Stupid flimsy piece of garbage. And you don’t have to salute. You’re not military.”

Yet Pansy saluted back. “Honoured to be of service, Clover, Celestia.”

Celestia nodded, lowering her hoof. “We’ll have to be quick. The King will notice if his scheduled communiqués go missing.”

Each tucked under the crook of each pegasus’ forelimb, the two scrolls caught the coloured edges of their unicorn glows. Two more rose up behind Clover and Celestia, levitating with purple and yellow sparkles.

“Operation Special Delivery is a go,” whispered Pansy, accepting her scroll alongside the present one. “And I see you got the royal seal on them too. That’s a nice touch.”

Hurricane grumbled under her breath, but slid the second scroll under her pit. “Remind me why we’re not just kicking the King’s butt right now? I hate this sneaking around stuff. It’s unicorn stuff, not the sort of stuff a proud pegasus should be getting up to.”

Clover sighed. “Just fly to Dirtville. And whatever happens, don’t fight back. OK? OK, Commander Hurricane?”

“Insubordination! Civilians can’t talk to a superior officer like that!”

“How can it be insubordination if I’m a civilian? Make sure the sentries spot and intercept you, but don’t make it too obvious. Remember: you don’t know what these messages are, only that the Commander sent them specially.”

Before Hurricane could grumble again, Pansy saluted once more and said, “Affirmative, ma’am! You can count on us. Let’s go, sir!”

Hurricane coughed. “Excuse me. I happen to be your commanding officer, Pansy.”

Grinning sheepishly, Pansy inclined her head towards the glowering pegasus. “Yessir! Awaiting your orders, sir!”

There was a pause before Hurricane replied, “Um. Right. Let’s go, then, I guess.”

Both unicorns dimmed their horns, and soon the flapping of wings and the wash of turbulence died away. Dark as it was, Clover could discern Celestia’s fake body shifting to the right, and hastily she rushed forwards and fiddled with the illusion. Even Celestia hadn’t managed to conjure her own.

Following the dimming and relighting of the stars overhead, they kept an ear out for the flapping of wings and trod carefully across the hill’s rising slope.

“You think this could work?” whispered Clover.

“We’ll see,” was all Celestia would say.

Chills bit into Clover’s limbs, but she forced herself not to care. This is treason, this is treason, oh my stars and moons this is treason. I never set out to commit treason. I can’t do this. Star Swirl would never believe it of me. What if he finds out? What if he already knows?

It had taken hours of spying and crouching and trying not to scratch and fidget. Nevertheless, she’d seen through the gaps in the wardrobes and one garderobe – holding her breath inside that one – and over the noble mares’ shoulders to spy on their writing. Every time, the scroll or envelope received a stamp. The royal crest, shaped like a profile of a unicorn: its spear-like horn was obvious. Forging her own out of half a potato and stolen ink had been filly’s play. Especially since she could fake handwriting down to the i’s and t’s.

“Halt!” cried a stallion.

Up ahead, the granite tower lit up like a lantern. Unicorn guards ran along the great wall’s turrets and aimed beams of light up. Both pegasi covered their eyes.

“Shut that light off, you horn-headed moron!” yelled Hurricane, and her next word cut itself off when Pansy shushed her. “Er, I mean… we have messages! So we’ll just be on our way, uh, good sir knight –”

“No pegasi may enter or leave Dirtville territory without authorization. Please submit yourselves for inspection.”

Clover crouched down. Beside her, Celestia breathed heavily. Both of them stared as the two pegasi drifted downwards.

“Whereas unicorns, of course, have no problem,” muttered Celestia under her breath. Clover pretended not to hear her, but she thought, I guess even the generous King has his limits. At least these days, pegasi don’t get stopped for very long.

“Your messages, please,” said the guard to the landing ponies.

Hurricane and Pansy gave each other raised eyebrows.

“But,” said Pansy, “the Commander said they’re confidential. We need to see the Chancellor directly. It’s very important, and we hope you understand.”

“Here it comes,” whispered Celestia.

Indeed, the unicorn guards began chattering to each other. It had probably been days since earth pony officials had gotten letters from the pegasus high command. The summits generally took care of everything, or so the King said. Both of them spotted the glow of the scrolls as they floated from pegasus to unicorn.

Paper unfurled. Mumbling baritones followed the scroll down. Outrage flooded Clover’s mind. The arrogance of those… those… unicorns! They… I mean, we haven’t learned from last time!

While one guard continued, another looked up. “You’ve read this?” he said calmly.

“Why would we read it?” grumbled Hurricane with feeling. “Tampering with military communications is a court-martial offence. They don’t trust us grunts with a damn thing.”

“Anyway, they’re sealed,” said Pansy. “We’d be caught out the moment we broke it. Can’t open them without getting a kick in the face, and I’m allergic to kicks in the face.”

The guard spun round to other officers, snatching away the scroll before his colleague had finished reading. “Send this to the Lords and Ladies. The King needs to be notified right away.”

“But sir,” piped up a newcomer. “What about –”

“Let them go – no, they can come with us. The King should hear it from them directly. Hop to it.”

Clover watched them canter along the wall, disappearing behind the teeth of the granite ramparts, carrying their glowing horns like torches. Under the slight orange crescent of the glare, Celestia allowed herself a small smile.

“So far, so good,” she whispered. “Time to make sure the balance of fear is maintained. We’ll rendezvous with them outside the Dirtville main tower. We’ll make sure they deliver her Chancellorship’s ‘reply’.”

“But –” Clover began.

Briefly, two more scrolls flashed beside her. Then Celestia tucked them away and slid out of view.

What about Pansy? Clover crawled backwards after her. And Hurricane? If they’re caught, it’ll be because of me. Hurricane alone has suffered enough this year. Just because she champs at the bit when danger threatens, doesn’t mean we should remove her harness.

“Clover.”

She bumped into Celestia. Sheer shock spun her round, and she found herself staring past the disintegrating white sparks of illusion magic.

Two cold eyes gazed back down. Up until now, she’d never have believed it from Celestia. The mare had such soft, milky irises and such a lazy, half-lidded glance that even now she could hear the accompanying chuckle and see the small smile. Not like now. Now, she could only see what too many enemy soldiers must have seen. A stare with all the comfort and peace of a spiked blizzard.

“Yes?” she whispered, “Your Grace?”

Pain should have twitched across Celestia’s eyes. They merely chilled her further, still and silent as a mountain’s snowy peak.

“Thank you,” said Celestia. “This would never have been possible without you by my side.”

The voice was dead. Worse, Clover knew she’d killed it the moment she’d confessed Platinum’s name to her. Celestia had almost died a hundred times. They’d both dragged each other out of a pegasus scrum, or cast healing spells over the other’s wounds while hiding behind logs, listening out for the earth ponies that hunted among the tree trunks.

Yet what else could she have done? Through the darkness, her gaze drifted to the scar on Celestia’s back leg. It had been the only time they’d gone up against a unicorn. Star Swirl’s first apprentice. A rogue. She’d learned too much, Star Swirl had said. That was partly why he also walked with a slight limp nowadays.

They realized they were staring at each other. Clover looked down at the grass first.

The illusion spell ran through her mind. When she looked up again, the unicorn guard had turned away and scampered down the hill. Clover hurried after the sparkles.

Who ARE you? she thought. Oh Celestia, just who are you now?

A Quicksilver Temper

Once more, Clover’s hoof hesitated before rapping against the grand portal. She wasn’t sure why she kept hesitating. It wasn’t as if Platinum ever turned her away, even if she did whine and moan and occasionally splash her face accidentally with water.

To her shock, the princess threw the door back, squealed, and seized her in both forelimbs. All too fleetingly, the warmth pressed into her neck and cheek, and then Platinum drew back. There was no sign in her wide eyes or beaming smile of their last encounter.

Oh dear, she thought. The mood swings are back again.

“Clover, my dear little mage!” She ushered her in, spluttering through sheer joy. “Oh, ker, fuh, lur! Don’t stand out here in this dingy bit of nothingness. No friend of mine should be allowed to freeze outside her mistress’ chambers.”

She’s just being nice. She doesn’t mean anything by it. She certainly doesn’t mean anything by “my dear little mage”, or reducing my life’s work like I’m some kind of favourite toy.

As she was dragged across the dimly lit room, she forced herself to remember young Platinum, who used to cheerfully hit her with a pillow and then cry whenever she wandered off. Sometimes, though, it was hard to remember all that when the adult Platinum had a voice like a dog howling in agony.

“Look what I did!” Platinum’s magic threw her forwards and almost into the dressing table.

On one side of the table, she’d heaped snow until a white molehill stood quietly melting onto the carpet. On the other, she’d placed what looked like three wine glasses full of water, except for the acrid smell dissolving the hairs around their noses. Between the two, a platter shone silver.

“See? I told you it was harmless!” Platinum giggled beside her. “I did the whole thing by myself. Add snow and acid, you said, and behold! It is still liquid.”

Platinum tapped the table smartly along its side. Gloop sloshed under the silver veneer – until Clover realized there was no actual distinction. It was all one substance.

“You were testing the freezing point of mercury?” said Clover, whose mind could think fast sometimes.

“Yes! The romance of quicksilver, the sheer elegant life-giving power of the living metal… Please tell me you remember.”

“Oh, I couldn’t forget this,” said Clover with a laugh.

Immediately, she wished she hadn’t spoken. Platinum gave her the pout of a kicked puppy. Even the princess’ fluffy brain could take a hard enough hit.

“I only wanted to show you,” said Platinum, who was inching towards a sob, “that I do listen sometimes. It was so beautiful, too. And I spent ages looking for the acids alone, never mind how long I had to wait to get the snow imported fresh from the Pegasus City.”

Clover burned where she stood. “I didn’t mean anything, Your Highness.”

I would never do anything to hurt you. Please believe me. No matter what happened in the past, we’re together until death. I swear. I haven’t forgotten.

“I’m sorry,” she said to the floor.

Platinum sighed and thumped the side of the table. “I understand, of course. You’re only trying to keep me safe. I know, I know. But this is my father we’re discussing.”

Clover glanced up sharply. “Your Highness?”

Staring at the wobble of mercury in the platter, the princess cocked her head and pouted. “So beautiful… surely, something so great and wondrous couldn’t possibly be dangerous? Not really?”

Clover’s reflection caught her eye. Red veins stood out against the whites.

“I suppose,” continued Platinum, “I could desist from the quicksilver powder… and from having my fur pelts dipped in the stuff to matt it properly… and I suppose from taking that medicine stuff, caramel was it?”

“Calomel, Your Highness,” said Clover, still staring at her reflection. My word, what am I doing to myself? My face looks like it’s been stung all over by a beehive. I’ve got puffy eyes and cheeks. How long have I been looking like this?

In the platter, the mercury continued to quiver. Strangely, it did look beautiful. Like living silver, metal that breathed and moved. She could almost hear it laughing, a tinkling tinny laugh like the fierce shaking of a bell.

Quiet and still, Platinum let her scan her hair, closing her eyes only when the purple bar flowed along her face. Tiny red dots flared. Signs of mercury. They rose from her face and mane, pooling into a floating blob between them that was all the more wondrous for the crimson hue of its bob and pulse.

I don’t blame her for sitting this one out. Clover ran another bar across the pelt of the gown, which fizzled and blazed red. The way Celestia’s just going around doing things – slipping scrolls, spying on ponies, all without a word – I wish I wasn’t doing it myself. The King can’t be worth all this, can he? I don’t know what’s worse; if he catches us first, or if we catch him out.

So cold… like ice…

No, like metal. It’s not just unicorns who love the stuff. Our entire history as ponies revolves around metal. It’s everywhere. When we talk about the fruits of civilization, we talk about art and love and science and sport and libraries and clothing. Yet metal’s always there, always cold and never glowing at anything but the strongest heats. Somehow, we fear it and love it at the same time. It’s like living on death.

Mercury pooled before her until it flattened, and she formed it into another platter. Hard to believe there was so much metal on one pony.

And sooner or later, it would have driven her mad. Is that what happened to the King? He seems so much more… drained these days. I know for a fact he uses stuff like this too. Most unicorns do. Pegasi as well. They even flavour their fermented grape juices with bits of lead! The whole world is on the edge of insanity.

Except for me…

As though avenging the slighted world, the guilty memory rose up and struck. The filly – young Platinum – standing there, eyes tinged with a green radiance. She just stood there gaping with the drool dripping from her mouth. Clover had screamed. She’d had no idea what she was doing – casting spells on a royal! – and frantically she cut out her magic –

The mercury dipped. Clover jerked awake and snatched the blobs up just in time. Beyond the crimson sheen, Platinum gave a yip of shock.

– but the spell hadn’t gone. She had no idea how to get rid of it. She’d only wanted to show her friend what she’d learned! Star Swirl himself had never dared to try it! It should have been nothing worse than the work of an earth pony trickster. Simple suggestion, a little magical push, and their mind did the work for you! What was wrong with her?

“Clover?”

Her face was aflame. Pinned down by Platinum’s stare, she stared back, helpless as a rabbit before a snake.

She blinked.

“Are you all right, Clover?”

Clover swallowed and forced a smile, which only seared across her muzzle. “Apologies, Your Highness. My mind wandered off for a second. It must have been the fumes.”

Her magical touch slurped up the mercury from the platter and tightened the lot into a cannonball. Instead of staring at Platinum, she focused on patting the crimson patina into a smooth sphere.

“I had good news,” she murmured. “I’m going to be a godmother.”

“Oh, bravo!” Princess Platinum rallied magnificently, stomping her hooves in applause and beaming at her. “Such an honour! Your godchild could not be in more capable hooves.”

Duty forced her to bow her head, despite the squirming in her chest. That hadn’t been the only ill-placed spell: toasting her princess’ legs with a faulty teleportation spell; knocking her onto her side under an overzealous shield bubble; having to revive her from a misjudged sleepwell spell. Every time, the King had shouted at her until she trembled and sobbed. Every time, Platinum insisted on having her around, even stamping her hoof before her father.

I don’t deserve such luck. I’m a disaster waiting to happen. This proves it. I’ve never been careful with my magic, regardless of how many times I swear I’ll make Star Swirl proud. And if I’m not careful, then I’m going to trigger a war.

Platinum tilted her head. “You don’t seem particularly enthused.”

“Sorry. I have a lot on my mind, Your Highness.”

“Oh, please. This is the Dawning of the Age of Equestria. I think ‘Platinum’ will suffice, don’t you? If any soul has earned that right, it’s you.”

“I’ll just…” Taking a sidestep towards the portal, she waved the cannonball up and down. “I’ll just dispose of this, Your Highness.”

“Thank you, Clover.” Platinum nodded with a sweep of her mane, gracious as she’d ever be. “I knew you’d think of something. You always do.”

Clover didn’t dare breathe again until the hinges creaked behind her and the portal slammed shut.

The portal burst open with a clank of brass, and Clover looked away from the view from the balcony. Marching across to the twisted gold of the rails, the King surged into her universe and goggled over the edge. Around him, his billowing cape caught the bubble of breeze.

“What in blazes is this?” he boomed. “What? What?”

“Your Majesty.” Clover kissed the floor at his hooves. “Good morning and favourable fortune unto your greatness.”

A blank stare met her when she straightened up. Then the King pointed a stocky limb at her, mouth rounded with a question too stunned to come out.

“They’ve been arriving through the gates all morning, Your Majesty,” she continued. “We’ve already stationed the guards across all entrances and exit points to the castle, but so far no one has tried breaking through.”

His mane was wild about his bulbous head like seaweed cast onto a swamp. He flicked his goggling gaze from her to the streets below, then back to her, and then back to the streets. His mouth struggled to form words.

“They can’t do that,” he rumbled. “Can they? This is behaviour liable to breach the peace, what?”

“They haven’t broken any actual laws, Your Majesty.” Once more, she kissed the ground at his feet. “There can be no misunderstanding this time.”

Finally, his eyes narrowed with recognition. “Clover,” he said, his voice quaking and causing dust to fall from the overhanging crystal roof. “Where the dickens have you been the last few days?”

“In pursuit of the rogue Celestia, Your Majesty.” Sweat burned through her skin like acid; practising in front of a mirror and acting in front of the crown itself were a world apart. “As soon as I realized my mistake, I tracked her across the San Palomino desert. Unfortunately, I lost her trail.”

His whole body trembled. She could feel the ground shaking through her hooves. “What on earth are you talking –?”

“That’s when Platinum contacted me, Your Majesty. There was suspicion of a conspiracy closer to home, Your Majesty. I was urgently needed to help uncover it. Much as it pains me to admit it, one treacherous rogue is nothing to the stability and safety of an entire kingdom.”

When he ground his teeth, sparks leapt up. She could almost hear his mind shouting for the guards. Lieutenant Lilt alone would be itching to rush in with his iron sword. Everyone knew she was involved in Celestia’s escape. Somewhere between that and the chopping block, her mind worked feverishly for a diversion.

Hastily, she threw herself onto the floor, flat and pathetic. Her own body was shaking below the rumbling volcano of his suppressed rage. “I live only to serve the royals, Your Majesty. I am oath-bound. I give you my word.”

And then, finally, the quaking stopped. She dared glance up, but he’d returned to the balcony. Blushing, she heard him mutter, “Confounded mages. I knew you were a bad lot.”

A few seconds seemed long enough to let the magma sink down into the depths. Clover helped herself onto her hooves and joined his side, peering over the gilded helix winding along the rails.

Ponies covered the street below. Every colour bloomed and squirmed under the rising sunshine. Merrily, they chanted, so many yells and shrieks blending into each other that a cloud of sound puffed around their ears. Squinting, Clover could spot the occasional hornless head among the mass, and saw no backs with wings. Most wore puffy sleeves and tights. Some had bows on their backs and platters on their scalps bearing puddings of all kinds. Confetti sprouted like geysers. Drums boomed louder than the King, and harps twanged and whistles cut through the din. Pots and pans banged together. Forelimbs waved.

On top of it all, cart-wheeling on the sea of heads and backs, the unmistakeable Chancellor Puddinghead led them all through the chant. Even above the shapeless shouting, her squeak of a voice smothered the lot like icing on a cake. Occasionally, Smart Cookie surfaced some two or three ponies’ backs away, chanting too.

The King stomped; a crash of thunder that quietened the ponies for a few seconds before Puddinghead flapped her hooves encouragingly. Pouring back into the silence, the din smothered him.

“Treachery!” he howled to the sky. “Woe! Woe! Tis vile treachery!”

No, thought Clover, and she narrowed her eyes at him. It’s a protest. Can’t you tell the difference anymore?

“It’s exactly what the pegasi were planning!” The King gaped at the mass. “Those wretches! Those villains! Those… those brutish nincompoops! They’ve destroyed my beautiful peace!”

A trickle of pity dripped into Clover’s mind. The King had never whined like this before. During the pegasine-unicorn wars, he’d always taken news of another breach or a mass desertion with a booming belly-laugh and a philosophical shrug of his shoulders. He’d been a pragmatist. Perhaps he was hitting old age too fast. Perhaps Platinum was his last hope after all.

Wood clanked on wood behind them, and Platinum yawned on her way over to her father’s other side. Her silver crown gleamed under the dawn light.

“My my, what a terrible noise. Father? What are they doing?” she said, blinking at the riot of colour below.

Caught out, the King hastily returned to all four hooves. “My lovely Platinum,” he cooed, still contriving to suggest that bagpipes featured in his vocal tract somewhere. “Look upon this mutiny and despair. This! This is exactly what I’ve been warning you about all these years… oh dear me, are you all right, pumpkin?”

Platinum covered her yawn with a genteel hoof. “I’m afraid I couldn’t sleep a wink, Father. Some pea-brain maid must have fiddled with my mattresses again.”

“Oh, but darling! You should have said. I would have instantly made them put it right again. Oh, aren’t you a brave soldier, my darling? It’s at times like this that I feel the sweet gales of hope smoothing my twisted brow.”

He loomed over her as a fat eagle might have huddled over a chick, his wing-like robe twitching as he magically straightened her mane and flicked a bit of lint off her shoulder. Clover looked down. Family was a whole different country to her.

“It seems,” continued the King, “that the pegasi and the earth ponies hold grievances against us. Yea, you may exclaim” – he waited for her to do so, but she merely yawned again – “but last night, we intercepted a confidential message from the Commander himself! Inciting the earth ponies to riot. What’s more, the earth ponies sent one back, claiming most falsely that we intended to undermine the pegasus-unicorn alliance once the earth ponies were removed. A slander! A wicked, pernicious slander! And behold! Tis true! No sooner has the rot been exposed to the sun that it decays and overwhelms us with its deadly stench!”

“Um hm.” Platinum examined a hoof. “Father, I love you, but all this political talk is making my head all spinny. May I use the hot springs today? I’ve been itching to go for days.”

Clover chuckled under her hoof, and quickly silenced herself when the King’s cape swung round with a flutter. She stared down at the crowd. Spikes slid through her veins. She didn’t dare move.

The King sighed. “Oh, my purest lily flower. Surely, you must appreciate what a calamity this is? The earth ponies and the pegasi are mobilizing against us.”

“Oh, pooh-pooh, Father.” Platinum flicked her mane back. “Why on earth would they do that, besides common jealousy? You just wait, and this’ll fizzle out like all those other faction things.”

The King peered down at the crowd, wiping his brow on the back of his hoof. “My legacy…”

“Oh, and may I borrow the great hall for the afternoon? I wanted to host a ball in there. When I dance under the chandeliers and the candelabras, the divinity of the air is simply too much to resist.”

Really? A ball of one… What kind of Princess Regent would she make? Is this plan even going to work with her in it?

I’m sorry, Platinum. But it’s true. I wish it wasn’t.

Clover still didn’t dare move. She could hear the King’s mind chugging along, whirring, trying to make everything click into place. And a mind like his was a gigantic machine. It was all too easy to get crushed under the gears.

“They’re not supposed to fight us,” he rumbled. “This wasn’t my vision of unity at all.”

Us. The stressed syllable was unmistakeable. Except apparently to Platinum, who continued to cluck and speak breathily about the wonders of the solo waltz.

She could feel him looking at her. And we haven’t even gotten the evidence yet…

Her horn flashed with the urge, but she forced the spell back down. Don’t capture anything just yet. It’ll take too much energy. Just let him get her alone, and –

“Mage!” The King’s voice pushed her head down as forcefully as a fist. “A word, if you please!?”

After another flutter of his cape, she turned and followed the sweeping hem with its faux fur outline. She resisted the urge to scan for mercury. Any unauthorized magic near His Majesty, and she could say goodbye to her neck.

Platinum gasped and flapped her gown. “Father! Where are you going? What are you doing with her?”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” he boomed with a chortle. “Hohoho, don’t worry! Your father has had the most brilliant idea, and I need young… Clover’s help here to fulfil it. We’ll soon have the mastermind behind this mutiny, don’t you worry.”

“Good luck, Clover!” trilled Platinum.

Clover didn’t dare look back. Sometimes, Platinum could be so dim.

Why wouldn’t she be? I never told her. She only sees him shouting when I’ve done something to deserve it. She’s never seen what else he does to me…

“This way,” the King grunted, turning to an adjoining chamber. It was black inside. No light entered or escaped.

I could blast him between the shoulders right now, and he’d be helpless. Hastily, Clover’s mind shushed the thought. It might show up on her face, which was already fizzing under the sweat.

Celestia, what have you done? No! Don’t think like that. Stick to the plan. Follow her instructions. Get the recording spell ready.

Then he shut the door, and she realized the darkness was no accident. She couldn’t see him. He could command her to stand wherever he wanted her to. Any flicker of magic on her horn would be obvious. And while Platinum was no mage-level spellcaster, she’d seen the King in action at the archery rounds. They needed new targets each time. Wars had taught him well.

Still, she had to try. The spell slithered through her mind.

Clover yelped. Everything above her forehead twanged, firing bolts back into her skull.

“I would keep my magic to myself, if I were you,” growled the King right into her ear. She yelped at the sting in her eardrums and clapped a hoof over it. “What happens in this room stays in this room.”

His horn lit up. Only his crushed snarl and the tip of her snout showed, but it was enough. His entire visage held her more thoroughly than any magic. Demons couldn’t match the curl of his lip or the rockslide of his frowning brow.

“I know full well you’re involved in this treachery,” he hissed. “An idiot with a concussion could work this one out. As far as I’m concerned, you showed your true colours the moment you attacked my officers and helped Celestia escape. Typical arrogant mage.”

You’re setting up Platinum as a scapegoat! You filled her head with lies! Only a few seconds ago, you were treating her like a queen. You monster! But she was always a lot braver in her head than outside of it. Instead, she tightened her jaw and hoped she could weather it out.

“Methinks you forget your place, mage. You live because Platinum wants you to live. You walk freely because that is the right of a mage. You are allowed in my domain because so far, it’s been safer to keep you in our sights than out of them. However, make no mistake. You are a dangerous siege weapon waiting to explode. Your rights as a mage extend only to tolerating royalty, not to crossing it; even Star Swirl himself is not fool enough to forget the ancient Mage Wars. So the instant Platinum has no further interest in you…”

The words battered her, and she winced all the harder under the cracks. Her memory showed her a green-eyed Platinum, a drooling body barely standing on her feet. Her own energies pulsing away deep inside her heart. The way Star Swirl had glanced sidelong at her, looking thoughtful.

He knows Platinum gave me the order. He can’t punish her for it. He can punish me. He knows she’s all I have.

“Celestia will not destroy me with these pathetic ploys,” he growled. “Oh yes,” he added when she jolted with the shock. “I can guess her game. How do you think I obtained the throne in the first place? But I had right and responsibility. A mare who insists we can all get along like fillies at school has neither. The unicorns survived because of me. Commander Hurricane knew that, until she sold her soul to you and your friends. I do not intend to fall the way she has.”

Clover didn’t dare speak. How did you know? How can you possibly know?

The crystal chamber lit up around her. A circle of unicorn guards crouched behind a ring of stars, all pointed at her. Lieutenant Lilt nodded at her. Pegasus officers hovered over their heads, trimmed wings beating as silently as an owl’s.

The King nodded and drew back. “The Praetorian Guard. A wonderful goodwill present from Commander Cryovolt! Now there’s a pegasus with his hooves on the ground. Metaphorically speaking, naturally.”

I can’t possibly fight them all. They’ll know about the expanding bubble shield.

Three of the guards levitated swords. Black swords, notched along the blade.

“Consider yourself fortunate, mage,” boomed the King. “Were we still living in the old country, I would be perfectly within my rights to have you executed. Alas, the modern times are a little more demanding than that. So, if you happen to know the whereabouts of the white warrior, lack of evidence notwithstanding, here is a royal message from myself: surrender with dignity, and I shall see to it Celestia at least survives the coming war, albeit in prison. But! Try any of this divide-and-conquer malarkey on a grandmaster, and my Praetorian Guard will not hesitate, and they will not fall for the same tricks twice. Is that understood, O apple of my daughter’s eye?”

Clover’s mind choked and drowned with the thoughts. He’s right. I’m betraying my tribe. I’m a danger. I’m just lucky to be living at all.

The plan has to stop.

Her lips struggled to speak. Finally, she closed her eyes and forced out the words. “W-War, Y-Your M-M-Majesty?”

Sniggers passed around the circle. The King’s own shoulders shook, though his mouth squeezed to stop anything escaping.

“Ho ho, yes,” he rumbled. “After all, the earth ponies are a treacherous bunch. It wouldn’t surprise me if these forged letters were their… decoys, shall we say? Yes, and then the real ones are sent between me and my pegasus friends. They’d better hope they’re not caught in the act, eh? I imagine that would anger Commander Cryovolt’s sensibilities. Numbskulls trying to undermine our union? And, of course, nothing less than treachery at the very top would be a positive act of war.”

Chancellor Puddinghead… Ice slid down Clover’s back.

The King straightened up, and once more he loomed like an iceberg. “Of course, I speak only from the psychology of the tribes. It remains to be seen whether any such treachery is actually occurring.”

Our trick didn’t work! No wonder he recognized it! Star Swirl always said to never curse a curse-maker.

“Dismissed,” he murmured.

It took her several seconds to realize what he’d said, and then several more to slip through the ring and out into the light.

The door slammed behind her. Still, she struggled to sense it had happened at all. Celestia rose up inside her head, suddenly a lot thinner, suddenly hunched and weighed down by shackles. Star Swirl was too far away, and what could he do anyway? He was oath-bound too.

Did she dare tell Platinum? No: she couldn’t worry the princess anymore. Not after their time together in Equestria. As it was, Platinum barely understood the risks of having someone like her around. What on earth would she think if Clover had made them all blunder into a war?

From a continent away now, she heard the crash and chants of the earth ponies.

I can’t go to Celestia. Not now. Not when he knows. I’ll simply lead him right to her. Did he have the Praetorian Guard the whole time?

Like the filly from a lifetime ago, sitting before a torn book and hearing the echoes of the young princess’ insults, she crouched where she sat and fought to keep her maelstrom mind under control.