An It Harm None

Chapters

Prologue
"You can't win a hurricane."
"Negative means more!"
"Well that just ain't natural."
"Is that you, Twilight?"
“I suppose there’s no harm in being... neighborly.”
"That doesn't sound like wind. Or water."
"If we don't do something quick, she could die!"
"Mother taught me everything she knows."
"What if she turns on us halfway through?"
"Only one more thing to take care of..."

Prologue

~ Previously, on My Little Pony ~

Ur-Zog’s defeat was sudden and absolute. His massive black armor shattered into a cloud of glassy splinters, revealing nothing at all within. Perhaps the power of the Rainbow of Light had reduced him to a fragile shell... or perhaps, like all tyrants and bullies, the demonic warlord had been hollow from the very beginning. The remnants of his ursine army abandoned the bleak mountain fortress and fled into the Twisting Labyrinth that surrounded it for miles. The Millstone of Misery ceased it’s endless churning and fell silent and still for the first time in centuries.

The stronghold was besieged from all sides, from top to bottom. A vast flock of flutter ponies streaked overhead and swept away the accursed storm clouds with their shining wings. Pods of sea ponies entered through the aqueducts and purified the black murk clogging the lower catacombs, allowing a great wave of gleaming, sapphire-emerald water to flow in it’s place: waterspouts burst up from the tower parapets, and the stone spiral stairways became rushing rapids. Even the friendly goblin hordes were popping out of every nook and cranny, using their uncanny mastery of stonemasonry to rescue whatever prisoners remained trapped in the lower dungeons.

Ponies of all colors and races gathered in the stronghold’s central courtyard to celebrate their freedom, singing and dancing with unbridled joy. It had been over a thousand years since all five races had been reunited in peace, and even longer still since the demonic warlord’s shadow had darkened their skies... but despite all of this, the celebration centered on two people in particular: two brave souls ultimately responsible for their victory.

Princess Harmonia, though weakened from a century of imprisonment, stood tall and proud as the two human children approached her. The crowd quieted down, and her voice rang out like a chorus of silver bells. “Lady Lisa. Sir James. Ur-Zog the conqueror has been utterly defeated, never to return, thanks to your bravery. All the creatures of Ponyland—great and small—owe you a debt of gratitude. A debt that can never be repaid in full.”

Lisa offered a curtsey, and her curly gold pigtails bobbed. “you don’t owe us anything, Princess. We’re always happy to help our friends!”

“You bet!” James nudged his cap up and leaned on his baseball bat. “I’m just glad we finally gave that nasty Ur-zog what he deserved. We knocked him right into the cheap seats!”

“Your selfless nature endures as always.” Harmonia smiled at them warmly and lowered to one knee: an unprecedented gesture. “May all your days be bright and shining... and wherever you go, may you see only joyful and smiling faces.”

The entire assembly lowered to one knee as well. A moment later, Radiance the pegasus and Homerun the unicorn burst out of the crowd and ran towards them, overjoyed to be reunited with their companions. They embraced each other joyfully but of the four of them, only Lisa’s smile was bitter sweet.

“Whats-a-matter?” Radiance said, “everything’s better now, isn’t it?”

“It sure is! But do you remember the very first wish we made when we found the rainbow of Light?”

Homerun lifted his head. “I remember it well. You wished for nothing more than the chance to bring peace to Ponyland. It has been an honor to remain by your side throughout your noble quest.”

“And now our wish has finally come true,” said Lisa. “The next time we go home, we won’t have a reason to come back.”

Radiance nudged her nose against Lisa’s golden, heart-shaped locket. “But you have the Rainbow of Light! It can make a bridge to take you anywhere, quick as a wink!”

Lisa opened her locket and gazed at the glittering light nestled within, but her eyes were drawn to the faded photograph behind it: a man and a woman smiling up at her as they held each other.

“We can’t take it to earth with us,” she said. “The rainbow belongs here in Ponyland. You never know when you might need it again!” Lisa hugged radiance’s neck. “We all knew this would be our last visit—it has to be—and you all have your own kingdoms to rebuild: Paradise Estates, Flutter Valley, the Unicornia isles...”

James nodded. “And the Sea Ponies and Goblins have never had a home of their own: they both have to build a whole new kingdom from scratch.”

A goblin poked his head up from the crowd, waving frantically: two other goblins lifted him up, using their arms and legs to form a wobbly little tower. “We can help the Sea Ponies build! Goblins love building!”

Several sea Ponies began splashing and diving out of a nearby waterfall, forming a pyramid in the air and singing like birds. Even though their language had no spoken words, the melodious voices were thankful and excited.

James smiled at his sister. “Hey, I think I’m finally learning their language... and I think they like the idea!”

“Of course they do,” she said, “they like everything!”

They broke into giggles, and the ponies all joined in. The laughter ended abruptly as a commotion from above caught their attention: a group of pegasus hovered overhead and dropped three familiar witches beside them in a tangled heap. The ponies all gasped in horror and stepped backwards.

Princess Harmonia stepped towards them with a stern gaze. “You three sisters have caused much trouble in the past, but assisting Ur-Zog was more than mere mischief. If his scheme to summon the Deep Eye had come to fruition, the whole of the realm would have been consumed by the Forever Nightmare.”

Each of the sisters pointed at the other two. “It was her idea!!”

Harmonia stamped a hoof on the floor, and the three sisters hugged each other tight.

“Despite the horrors you caused,” the Princess said, “you three are human, and humans are beyond our authority to punish. No pony can pass sentence upon you.”

One of the witches blew a smug raspberry at her.

She arched a single, reserved eyebrow. “Therefore, we must allow our human friends to pass judgment upon you.”

The two children stepped forward, crossing their arms together in perfect synchrony. The witches resumed their cowering.

“I dunno, sis... they did cause everyone a whole lot of trouble.”

“I think I know just what to do.” Lisa stepped forward. “All right, you three, here’s the deal: if one of you agrees to come with us willingly, we’ll let the other two go free. But if none of you step forward, then you’ll all be punished. What do you say?”

The ponies gasped in astonishment as one of the sisters leaped forward: Tall and gangly Hortencia, all knobbly knees and elbows, sobbed at Lisa’s sneakers. “Me, take me! Please, just let them go!”

Her two siblings stared at her for a moment, stunned, but soon ran over and began kicking her. “Yeah, it was all her fault! She’s the one you want: take her!”

“Silence!” Harmonia called, her voice thundering and majestic. The two sisters staggered back. Harmonia stepped forward and leaned down, whispering to Hortencia. “Why do you sacrifice yourself so? Your siblings have offered you nothing but cruelty!”

“I don’t care!” she sobbed. “They’re... they’re the only family I’ve got left! Even if I never see them again, at least I’ll know they’ll be all right!” She turned to Lisa and James with a sniffle. “That’s what a good sister would want... isn’t it?”

Harmonia nodded, solemnly. “So shall it be. Hortencia: you will come with us to begin serving your sentence. Your family is free to go.”

The two witches ran off, cackling uproariously, and the crowd of ponies parted quickly as they passed. They watched them flee out of the stronghold’s main entrance and into the endless labyrinth beyond: a maze they would surely never escape from.

Lisa knelt down beside Hortencia and gently set a hand on her shoulder. “Come now. There’s no time for dawdling.”

Her lower lip trembled as she looked up at her. “What’re you gonna do to me?”

James smiled at her. “Aw, we’re not gonna do anything bad to ya. You were the one who gave us the special brew that stopped the Grye Goo. We’ll call it even!”

Hortencia gasped. “You knew that was me!? But I never told anybody!”

Lisa took her hand and helped her stand up. “You only helped make the Grye Goo in the first place because you wanted to impress your sisters, but when you saw how awful it was you did the right thing. You’re a good person.”

“My family...” She looked out at the labyrinth outside the stronghold. “I’m all alone now, with nowhere to go. I don’t know what I’ll do!”

Radiance hopped forward. “You can stay with us!” she said, “there’s always room at Paradise Estates for everyp... for everyone.”

Hortencia clasped her hands together. “You’d do that for me? That’d be wonderful!”

Lisa turned to address the gathering. “We have to go home now, and I don’t think we’ll ever come back... but we’ll never forget any of you as long as we live.”

The crowd looked to them with teary eyes, despite the caring smiles.

Even Hortencia wiped a tear from her cheek. “All this time I wished you would just go away forever and stop ruining my curses. And now that you’re really going away... I feel like we just met.”

James leaned his bat against his shoulder. “You gotta be really careful what you wish for. We learned that the hard way, didn’t we, sis?”

Hortencia clasped her hands. “But I’ve been so horrible to you! Is there any way to make up for it all? There must be something I can do!”

The children shared a solemn look. James gave his sister a slight nod. Lisa stepped forward, took her golden locket off its necklace, and held it out to Hortencia. “Here. Use the Rainbow of Light. Use it to wish us back home.”

She gasped. “You’re letting me hold it!?”

“No,” Lisa said, “we’re letting you keep it. Only a human can make wishes on a rainbow... and when we leave, you’ll be the only good human left.”

Hortencia opened the locket and gazed at the flickering glimmer within. “Why is it so small? Whenever you used it, it was big enough to cover the whole sky!”

“It was the same size when we first found it,” said Lisa. “The more friends you have, the bigger and stronger it gets. Good friends always help your wishes come true.” Lisa set the locket in the witch’s hands and closed her fingers around it tight. “Make some friends, Hortencia. You deserve some.”

She looked at her own feet. “But... but I’ve never... I wouldn’t know how!”

One of the youngest ponies, barely old enough to walk, hopped out from the crowd and smiled up at her. “I’ll be your friend! Can I please?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, a chorus of voices called out with similar requests. Hortencia looked around, bashfully, as the crowd closed in all around her. Every face in the crowd looked up at her, warm and caring.

Hortencia closed the locket and held it close. “I wish... I wish... I wish!” She held the locket up to the sky and opened it wide: a brilliant arc of color surged out, bathing her awestruck face in a spectrum of lights and sparkles. The arc streamed up to the sky above and pierced a hole in the clouds, and through the opening they saw the rolling hills and lush forests of another realm altogether. Compared to the idyllic Ponyland, it seemed faded and dull... but to the children, it bore the incomparable beauty of a familiar home.

Lisa and James held each other’s hands and stepped into the rainbow together, and a great rush of wind and light carried them up into the sky. The gathering of ponies waved and cheered as their old friends faded into the distance far above.

Hortencia closed the locket, sealing the unfathomable cosmic power within, and held it tight against her heart.

"You can't win a hurricane."

“Form up on the left! I said form up!”

A squadron of pegasi streaked through the stormy clouds and pushed against the howling rain, but their formation was sloppy and uneven. The rain clouds were thick and dark, making it impossible to see any of the other squadrons... assuming they hadn’t been grounded.

Rainbow Dash shouted to be heard over the roaring wind. “Wedge formation, on my lead!”

The pegasi shifted positions around their wing-leader, performing a corkscrew ballet in the nightmarish gale. The starboard half of the wedge was clumsy and misshapen: Clover and Honeysuckle had to struggle just to keep their wings straight.

“Dash, we have to pull back! We can’t—”

“That was an order, Honeysuckle!” Dash tightened her goggles and pushed against the roiling wall of wind. “Come on, ponies! We get one shot at this!”

Honeysuckle redoubled her effort. The entire formation began listing to one side, buckling under the turbulence. There was a ragged scream as a pegasus tore away from them and went tumbling into the mist.

“Sunny Daze, no!”

“Keep it together!” said Rainbow Dash, “we can still pull this off with the four of us! Everypony prepare for a reverse spiral on my mark!”

“A reverse spiral?! But nopony’s ever...!”

“Mark!!”

The squadron struggled to keep up with their wing-leader. Scudded clouds clung to them like cobwebs and their necks prickled with invisible force. A bolt of raw energy cracked the sky: The flash of blue light illuminated the apple orchard below, along with the silhouettes of the remaining pegasus squadrons. There were only three other teams in the air, all wildly out of position.

“Dash, there’s nothing we can do! We have to find shelter!”

“Stay cool, girls! Weatherponies use lightning all the time! We can do this!”

A jagged zigzag stitched through the clouds, blinding them. This time the rumble was more than mere sound: it was an explosive wave of force that knocked them out of formation and sent them tumbling through the air.

Rainbow Dash burst from the underside of the storm clouds less than a hundred yards above the ground. She cupped her wings and caught the wind, but at her speed empty air was hard as rock: her wings snapped taut and a few of her primary feathers tore away. She crashed to the ground and skidded several yards, gouging a furrow in the grassy field.

She shot upright and looked around, but the other pegasi were nowhere to be seen. Despite all their efforts, the metamorphosis was complete: the rainstorm was now a thunderstorm. A barrage of searing bolts wracked the orchard below, splitting whole trees down the middle. A nearby barn exploded in a shower of flaming splinters.

Rainbow Dash reared up and yelled at the top of her lungs. The rain soaked through her wild mane and a rolling peal drowned out the sound of her voice.

By tomorrow morning the storm was over. The residents of Ponyville emerged from their basement shelters and began cleaning the streets. The village itself had suffered very little damage. A few branches had come loose and some of the more delicate flower gardens were ruined.

A sizable volunteer force marched its way to Sweet Apple Acres with carts full of landscaping tools and potting soil. The residents were no strangers to a bit of yard work. After all, Ponyville was renowned for its beautiful lawns and gardens. They could certainly spare the time to help tidy up Ponyville’s oldest and most successful family business.

None of them had been prepared for the devastation ahead. The eye of the storm had bored a shallow crater in the earth. Dozens of trees had been reduced to scorched, splintered stumps. A barn and a work shed were nothing but a charred outline where the walls had stood. There was no wreckage. Only barren ground.

Applejack pulled her cart through the ruined patch of orchard. She paused as volunteers approached to load it up with rocks and branches. Everypony she met was doing their best to wear a supportive smile.

“Applejack! Over here!” Twilight ran over, followed by a cloud of sparkling specks. “I managed to recover most of the roofing nails from the south field. My ‘iron-find-it’ spell is working perfectly, but I’m afraid most of the nails were melted by the electrical storm... I doubt you’ll be able to reuse them.”

“Aw, shucks. We can always melt ’em down to make new nails. And besides, I’m more worried about leaving them in the ground. They’d be a right nasty surprise for someone runnin’ the plough.”

“Of course. I’ll continue sweeping the rest of the fields. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Sure thing.” Applejack said, and smirked. “Just be sure to leave a little work for the rest of us, why don’tcha?”

“Applejack!” They turned to see Rarity, covered in a slight smattering of dust. “We’ve flattened out the barren land and laid down a fresh layer of potting soil. We’re ready to smooth everything out with the rollers and lay down some grass seed.”

“Rarity?!” Applejack said. “You were only supposed to organize the work crews. You didn’t have to do the work yourself!”

“Applejack, please,” Rarity said. “I know exactly how I would feel if the boutique were to come to harm. I simply couldn’t stand aside.”

“Now listen, you two. I appreciate all the help but there’s no need to go overboard.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “But your orchard means everything to you!”

Applejack laughed, and continued hauling the cart down the dirt road. Twilight and Rarity followed alongside.

“I thought you’d know me better’n that! A farm isn’t a bunch of trees and buildings. It’s a home. It’s friends and family.” Applejack paused as Applebloom walked past, hauling a tiny cart full of fresh tulip bulbs. “Sure the storm ruined a lot of hard work, but there’s always hard work to be done on a farm. I’m just thankful nopony got hurt.”

Twilight and Rarity shared a bittersweet smile.

“I’m glad you’re taking this so well,” Twilight said. “But we know what a shock it must be.”

They came to the end of the road where the barn had been. There was nothing left but an outline on the ground. There, sitting at the end of the road, was Rainbow Dash. Her colorful mane was even more wild and windswept than usual and the shoulder of her left wing was tightly bound with cotton bandages. Nothing serious... just support for a minor sprain.

“I gotta say, I don’t think I’m the one who’s hurtin’ the most.” Applejack stepped out from under the cart’s yoke. “You two gimme a minute.”

They nodded and returned to their work. Applejack walked down the rest of the road and went to Dash’s side. She was staring at the ruined foundation with dull eyes. She’d been sitting there for over an hour.

“You must be famished after all that flyin’ last night. You want some juice or somethin’?”

No response.

Applejack shuffled her hooves. “It’s not a big loss, y’know. That barn was gettin’ old anyhow, and there wasn’t anything in it.”

Still no response.

Applejack stepped over and looked her friend in the face. “Now listen here. You tried your best out there. A thunderstorm is one of the worst kind of storms there is! You know how dangerous it is to be under one... to say nothin’ of flying through one.”

Applejack sat down beside her. “I know you’re all about winning, but this was a hurricane. You can’t win a hurricane. And it coulda been a whole lot worse, too! It didn’t hit the village, right? Can you imagine what that would’ve—”

Rainbow Dash stood up and walked back up the path.

Applejack chased after her. “R.D.? Are you..?” She flinched as she saw the fury in her friend’s eyes.

Applejack slowed to a halt and watched her friend walk back to Ponyville.

“Atten...hut!”

A grid of pegasi stamped their feet and straightened their necks. They were arranged in front of the town hall’s circular porch. Rainbow Dash marched back and forth, using the porch as a stage.

“All right you sad, sorry sacks o’ feathers! You’ve all been part of the volunteer weather patrol in the past. You aren’t fully certified weatherponies, but you know how to take orders and follow instructions. You’ve helped us professionals tackle the jobs that are big, but simple. Today, that changes!”

Dash let out an ear-splitting whistle and a huge banner unfurled from the second-floor balcony of the building. The canvas was painted with a crude map of Ponyville and its surrounding districts. Dash pointed at the map with a wingtip.

“In the last two months alone, Ponyville’s outskirts have been assaulted by five major rainstorms... three of which turned into thunderstorms!”

The crowd shuddered in horror.

Dash pointed a hoof at them. “Don’t you wimp out on me! It’s only a matter of time till Ponyville suffers a direct hit. Are we gonna let that happen? Well? Are we?”

There was a pitiful, half-hearted cheer. Dash groaned and rolled her eyes.

“Come on! Saving Ponyville isn’t a freakin’ spectator sport! We need every set of wings we can muster!”

Twilight pushed her way through the crowd and walked up the stairs. “Dash? What’s going on here?”

“Right on time!” Dash pulled her up and thumped her on the back. “You all know Twilight Sparkle, right? Right. Well, my best friend here has cooked up a super-secret magic spell to give us the edge we need. Twilight? Go ahead and tell ’em how it works. And try to keep the scientific mumbo-jumbo to a minimum.”

“Tell them about what? Dash, what are you talking about?”

“The spell! You were supposed to whip up a magic spell to protect us against lightning.”
Twilight arched an eyebrow. “I was?”

“Yeah. I left you a note.”

“You left me a doodle of you kicking a cloud with a frowny face.”

“Like I said. A note. I figured you’d get the idea.”

“Dash, please.” Twilight turned away from the crowd and lowered her voice. “You gathered up almost every pegasus in town. You can’t just boss them around like this!”

Dash held up a silver badge. “As the city’s official ‘Weatherpony in Chief,’ I am declaring a state of emergency. I’m turning the volunteer weather force into an elite brigade of crack super-troopers. When I’m through with them, they’ll chew lightning and burp thunder! They are Ponyville’s first, last, front, second, middle, only, and third line of defence.” She pointed back to the crowd. “As of this minute you are Ponyville’s Storm Riders!”

Fluttershy peeked out from the front row. “Can I please go home now?” Her whimper was clearly audible over the tense silence.

Dash leaned over the edge of the porch and pointed a hoof at her. “Keep this up and you won’t have a home to go back to! None of us will! You don’t want to live in a storm shelter for the rest of your life, do you?!”

Fluttershy’s knees and bottom lip trembled.

Twilight grabbed Dash and pulled her back. “Would you stop it already? You’re scaring everypony!”

“I’m not scaring them. The thunderstorms are! I’m just pointing it out!”

The rest of their friends emerged from the crowd with Applejack in the lead. “Now listen here, Dash. I know we’ve got a serious problem... we all know that. But you won’t get anywhere by starting a panic.”

“I thought you’d be the first pony to cheer us on! You lost over a dozen trees last night. They take fifteen years to grow that big! What’s gotten into you?”

Applejack crossed both pairs of legs. “Listen, sugarcube... It’s called a natural disaster for a reason. It’s not like it happened on purpose. We have an insurance policy for that sort of thing.”

Fluttershy peeked out from behind her. “And besides... I’m not so sure the volunteer weather patrol is up to the task. We don’t have any experience with such powerful weather patterns... especially not thunder and lightning!”

“Oh, come on. Not everypony is as scared as you are.” She pointed at the crowd, but hesitated. Every single face was nervous or fearful.

Twilight patted her shoulder. “Come on, Dash. You know there are only two things that every pony is afraid of. Snakes, and lightning. And the latter is a hazard for even the most experienced pegasi.”

Dash stamped a hoof. “Well, I ain’t afraid of no lightning!”

“Double negatives notwithstanding, you’re the only one here who isn’t. And Fluttershy is the only pony I know of who isn’t afraid of snakes.”

“They’re not so bad,” Fluttershy said. “As long as you don’t move too quickly. Or too slowly... or stand too still.”

“But...! You...!” Dash looked at her friends. “Aren’t any of you on my side?”

Applejack stepped forward. “Of course we are. We just think you need to put some thought into it. Slow and steady wins the race, right?”

Dash frowned at her. “If by wins, you mean demolishes. And by race, you mean village.”

Twilight smiled up at her. “We’ve saved Ponyville before, haven’t we? We can do this together.”

“I know you want to help but this is different. A weather problem calls for a pegasus solution!”

“Actually,” Twilight said, “I’ve been in correspondence with a number of outlying estates. There are reports of rogue storms appearing all along the edge of the Everfree forest.”

Her horn glowed and an array of purple lights and lines appeared on the giant banner map. The lines came alive, flowing and rippling over the surface of the canvas. “They’re far too chaotic to predict, but something tells me these weather patterns might not be entirely natural. There’s too many of them in too short a period. If this is an artificial phenomenon we can still help you investigate it.”

“Hold on a minute, sugarcube. Are you saying something... made these storms?”

“Not exactly, but I don’t think they’re natural. The true cause is more likely—”

Applejack tromped away. “Y’all meet up at the end of the west field. We got an hour to pack up and move out.”

"Negative means more!"

Twilight Sparkle unfurled a map across the wooden picnic table, smoothed it out, and peered at the borders of the Everfree forest. The wilderness area was vast and poorly defined, with only a few landmarks to speak of.

Applejack peered over her shoulder. “So all we have to do is draw a line back the way they came, right?”

“Sorry,” she said, “but it isn’t nearly that easy. These are wild storms. They don’t travel in a straight line.”

“So they wobble back and forth a bit. It’ll still give us a good guess, won’t it?”

“I wish it were so,” Twilight said and laid out a clean scroll. She took a toy top, dipped the tip in an inkwell, and spun it on the paper. Applejack stared at the wild and crazy whorls it left behind.

“Naturally occurring weather is powered by a phenomenon called ‘Chaos Theory.’ Chaos patterns are a fusion of order and randomness... they have familiar shapes, but there’s no clear reasoning behind them. The only thing we know about it for sure is that it’s impossible to predict.”

“I don’t know about that,” Dash said as she tossed a barrel into the gondola of a nearby hot air balloon, currently deflated. They had swapped out the usual basket for a larger one, designed for extended journeys. “There’s something sneaky about these ones. It’s like they were fighting against us.”

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions just yet,” said Twilight. “If somepony was controlling them, there would be some kind of predictable pattern. Anything at all.”

Applejack turned to look at the edge of the Everfree forest. “That doesn’t mean somepony didn’t create them.”

Twilight rolled up the map and tucked it into her book bag. “Something must have changed to make these storms possible... and once we discover what happened we can try to change it back.”

“Hey, everypony!”

Everyone turned to look as Pinkie Pie came over a nearby hill, hauling a cart. She yanked a tarp off the top and revealed a pair of huge metal cylinders, made of polished, lightweight metal and painted with red-and-white candy stripes.

“Just gimme a minute and I’ll have these installed,” she said. “The giant fans go on each side of the basket and there’s a bicycle thingy that goes in the middle. If you ever need to fly against the wind, just climb on and pedal your little legs off!”

Applejack pinched her bottom lip. “Are you sure they’ll work?”

Pinkie Pie hopped in place. “I have no idea! I just can’t wait to find out!”

Applejack glanced at Twilight.

“I’m sure they’ll work perfectly. This is Pinkie Pie, after all... so far, none of her crazy contraptions have exploded.” Twilight gently bit her lower lip. “Unless they were supposed to, that is.”

Pinkie Pie set a large accordion on its side and ran a hose between it and the deflated balloon. “Just gimme the word and you’ll be ready to fly!”

Twilight and Applejack climbed into the gondola and closed the gate.

Fluttershy came over to give each of them a farewell hug. “Good luck, you three. We’ll take good care of Ponyville while you’re gone!”

Rarity passed them a bundle of cold weather cloaks. “Here you go. Iknow fluorescent tangerine isn’t very flattering, but it will help you see each other in heavy weather. You mustn’t lose track of each other!”

Twilight smiled at her. “Thank you, Rarity!”

“Just promise to come back safe and sound.” Rarity turned to Dash. “And please remember: the three of you are only scouting ahead. As soon as you know what’s going on, come back and let us know.”

“Yeah, yeah... can we get going already?”

Twilight nodded, and called out. “Pinkie Pie! Pump us up!”

Pinkie Pie began jumping in place. “You’re on fire, girls! You’re awesome! You can do this! I’m here to tell you you have what it takes! You’re the big time now! Momma say what? Momma say... awww, yeah!”

“I mean, pump up the—”

“No wait,” Dash said with a faint smile. “I’m diggin’ this.”

Twilight rolled her eyes with a smile. “The balloon, Pinkie Pie. Can you inflate the balloon for us?”

“Gotcha!”

Pinkie Pie began bouncing on the accordion like a trampoline, and the instrument wheezed and puffed as she sprang higher and higher. The balloon inflated, slowly at first, and once it reached the halfway mark Twilight set fire to the metal coal tray. The balloon quickly billowed up the rest of the way and began tugging against the mooring ropes. Rarity’s spiral horn glowed and her magic yanked the stakes from the ground.

“Waaait! I almost forgot!” Pinkie Pie leaped off the accordion and rummaged through a heap of boxes. She ran over with a wooden half-keg, but by then the balloon was several yards above the ground.

Twilight leaned over the railing. “Pinkie, we didn’t forget anything. Water, food, coal, writing supplies—”

“You can’t leave without this! It’s extra-special, super-duper-booper important! And fragile, too! This side up! Handle with care!”

Twilight’s horn glowed and the barrel levitated into the gondola.

Applejack put her ear to the side and thumped the top. “Sounds like it’s fulla rocks or something.”

Twilight sighed. “I guess we could always use some extra ballast.”

Dash dove low and flew past the gondola. “Come on, you two! Seconds count!”

Applejack peered through the telescope fixed to the railing. The Everfree forest carpeted the land as far as the naked eye could see. She scanned the horizon but saw nothing unusual. Nothing especially unusual.

“We’ve been out here for over a week,” she said, “and we still don’t know what we’re supposed to be lookin’ for.”

Twilight spoke without looking up from her book. “I suspect we’ll know it when we see it.”

“Don’t you think you should be the lookout? It’s your telescope and all. You’re probably better with it than I am.”

“You’re doing fine, AJ. I’m almost done with these.”

“You still haven’t finished that book of yours?” Applejack turned to her friend and blinked in surprise: Twilight was lying on the floor with a pair of books in front of her. She took three seconds to stroke her hooves down each page, turned to the next, and so on. Applejack looked at the pile of books she’d apparently finished.

“Are you reading two books at once?” Applejack said. She tilted her head around. “Upside-down?!”

Twilight’s voice was flat and dull. “I’m skimming for keywords. We need to know everything we can about chaos theory. There aren’t many books about it, so I have to look for footnotes and cross-references to other books.”

“That whole thing, again? I don’t see how a theory will help us out.”

“Theories are how we understand the world.”

“But I thought you said these storms couldn’t be predicted?”

“They can’t be predicted... not precisely. But you can still try to understand them. They’re a fusion of randomness and order.”

“But random is the opposite of order. If you ask me, it sounds kind of... hokey.”

Twilight looked up with a faint smile. “Do you see any mountains nearby?” Her voice had regained some of its usual pleasant tone.

“Yeah,” Applejack said. “There’s a big line of ’em over there.”

“Take a look at its shape. It looks all jagged and rocky, right?”

“Sure does. So?”

“Zoom in with the telescope and look at one of its peaks. Zoom in even closer, and look at the top of a boulder. You can look at a piece of gravel, or even a tiny speck of sand... use a magnifying glass and you’ll see the same pattern. It’s a totally random shape but it always looks the same. It always looks like rock.”

Applejack peeked through the telescope. “That’s weird. Now that you told me, I can’t not see it.”

“Lots of things are like that. Lakes look like puddles. Rivers look like streams. Forests look like patches of moss. Think about an apple tree: If you clipped off a branch, or even just a twig, it still forks the same as a whole tree. You can even plant it in the ground and it’ll grow into a tree all by itself. It’s nature’s way. The parts resemble the whole.”

Applejack stared at her friend. “Twi, that’s... amazing!”

“Isn’t it? Chaos theory involves a lot of complicated mathematics, but anypony can appreciate the beauty of it. You just know it when you see it.”

“And you had such a clever way of explaining it, too! I guess I can understand why you love books so much... even the boring ones can be exciting!”

Twilight’s slight blush went unnoticed as a streak of light danced over the horizon.

“Whoa, there! We got a live one!” Applejack grabbed the telescope and swung it around. There was a multicoloured trail of light in the distance, weaving back and forth. “It’s definitely Dash. That’s a loop... a dash-mark... a triangle... and the number six. Aaaand… a couple of exclamation marks.”

“What?!” Twilight snapped upright. “Get to the turbine! We have to change course!”

Applejack climbed into the bicycle frame and pushed against both sets of pedals. Twilight pulled a pair of switches, reversing both fans, and the balloon lurched to a stop and began moving back the way they’d came.

“Just so we’re clear, how bad is a six?”

“Not too bad. A six on the Beaufort scale is a strong breeze. The balloon can survive a six. It’s the dash mark I’m worried about: It’s a minus sign. That indicates a strong negative charge, and if that charge continues to increase it could become a thunderstorm.”

“Wait... the charge is increasing? Isn’t ‘negative’ supposed to mean less?”

“Electricity is potential energy! Negative means more!” Twilight climbed up a short step ladder and aimed her horn up. With a flash of magic, the surface of the balloon changed from purple to bright red. She rushed back to the telescope, pointed it due north, and searched the cloud layer.

“I don’t understand. The triangle pointed up but the northerly skies are all clear. Dash knows which way is north, doesn’t she?”

“Are you kiddin’? Ducks and geese ask her for directions every winter. She could point north if you spun her around blindfolded. There’s a reason she’s so good at pin-the-tail-on-the-pony.”

“Well she should be back by now. A red balloon means ‘return to home.’ ” Twilight turned the Telescope back to the colourful skywriting. “I don’t get it. Now she’s drawn a bunch of arrows, all pointing up. Does she know up means north?”

“Arrows?” Applejack said. “Isn’t she supposed to use triangles?”

Twilight zoomed in further, closing in on a blurry speck. She adjusted a dial, and the speck took form. Rainbow Dash was waving at them and pointing above. Twilight pulled away from the telescope, eyes wide.

Oh, no... up means up!

Less than a minute later, the puffy white clouds above them burst apart all at once and a massive rainstorm fell around them. The gondola swung violently as a torrent of wind and rain buffeted them from all directions.

“Out!”

“In!”

“Out!”

“In!”

Twilight’s horn glowed and an aura of sparkles lifted a sandbag up and suspended it over the railing. “Out! We need to drop ballast as quickly as possible!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” Applejack grabbed the bag and yanked it back in. “I may not be a fancy hot-air balloon pilot, but I know what to do when a storm’s a brewin’! If we drop weight, we’ll fly straight up and into the middle of it!”

Twilight levitated another sandbag. “The balloon has a built in ‘Friesienday Cage’ to protect us from the lightning, but if we make contact with the ground or a tree we could attract a lightning bolt! We have to stay up!”

“That don’t make no sense, Twilight! Lightning strikes the highest thing around!”

“That’s only if the target forms a complete—”

An echoing crash stunned them both silent. They had both seen lightning before. Pegasi used it in small amounts to manipulate the weather, and it was occasionally used for pyrotechnic effect. It was startling, but mostly harmless.

This was ever so different. A blinding light lit the clouds from within and a jagged bolt seared the forest below. Even though it was a mile away, it was colossal... nothing like the short, sharp sparks the pegasi routinely used. This was the very fire of the stars... the wild and untamed fury of nature.

At the first strike, Applejack and Twilight froze. At the second strike, they hugged each other tight and screamed at the top of their lungs. Applejack stared as a pulsating bolt streamed down less than a hundred yards away. Even though they were high in the air, the lightning wasn’t hitting them… it was hitting the ground.

Twilight hugged her like a vice. “Please, Applejack! You have to believe me!”

Applejack stared into Twilight’s trembling, teary eyes and saw the honest truth behind the fear. Without any further hesitation she grabbed a sandbag and hurled it over the edge. She scrambled to the railing and bit through the remaining ballast ropes. Even when the last bag fell away she couldn’t tell if they were rising or falling. All she could see was a wall of dark, shadowy rain.

“Twilight, we ain’t goin’ up! Is there anything else we can drop?”

Twilight stared at the sky, eyes wide. Applejack shook her, but got no reaction. She looked like she was trying to speak, but couldn’t.

“Come on, girl! This is no time to… aw, butter-tarts!”

Applejack rummaged through the cargo furiously. A barrel of drinking water. A spare stack of cold-weather gear. A box of scientific equipment. She threw Twilight’s books into a waterproof box and tossed it over. She grabbed a wooden half barrel, but hesitated.

She broke the seal and opened the top of Pinkie Pie’s essential cargo. Inside was a heap of uncut gemstones. She rolled her eyes and hurled it over the edge. The cascade of semi-precious rocks twinkled in the flashing thunderstorm like the tail of a comet.

“Twi, this ain’t workin’! We aren’t going up!” She grabbed her friend and gave her a firm shake. “You gotta use your magic, Twi! It’s our only…”

Applejack felt the prickle of pins-and-needles along her entire body. She watched Twilight’s mane and tail float up, each strand spreading out in a fan. A blinding blue-white light arced all around them. The bolt streamed along the surface of the balloon and flowed down the gondola. A massive shower of sparks singed the basket and burned through the ropes. Deaf and blind, they tumbled through the air.

Applejack snapped awake and looked around.She was in an earthen burrow nestled under the roots of a great tree, with barely enough room to stand. She was lying on a pallet of pine leaves and covered with a heavy waterproof blanket.

She couldn’t hear anything through the downpour outside but her eyes eventually adjusted to the darkness. Some of their supplies were neatly stacked in the corner but there were hardly any provisions: a half-full barrel of oats and a bushel of bruised apples. A few of the nicer apples had been placed beside her bed on a clay platter.

Applejack chuckled to herself as she laid back down to sleep. And here I thought I’d be the one who’d have to rescue her!

"Well that just ain't natural."

Applejack awoke an hour later at the sound of a familiar voice: Twilight had just come in from the storm, wearing one of their fluorescent-orange rain cloaks.

“Applejack! Are you all right?”

“Just fine thanks to you. It’s gettin’ right cozy in here!” She flinched as a distant thunderbolt cracked and rumbled. “Apart from the obvious, that is.”

Twilight set her book bag next to the rest of the supplies. “Wasn’t it amazing? I can hardly believe it worked! I mean, of course it worked… the scientific theory is completely sound. But now we have proof! This could change everything we know about naturally occurring weather!”

Applejack watched her pace. “Not that I want to rain on your parade but you said we’d be safe, but the balloon took a direct hit. We’re lucky to be alive!”

“Oh, no-no-no… we were completely safe.”

Applejack opened her mouth to speak but stopped to look at herself. “Hey, yeah. We are okay. How is that possible?”

“The Balloon was protected by a specialized ‘Friesienday Cage’ of my own construction. It’s a network of copper cables designed to conduct electricity away from what’s inside.” She hopped in place. “And it worked! The lightning struck the top of the balloon, flowed down through the cables, and continued on to strike the ground. We were completely unharmed!”

“So the balloon is okay?”

Twilight shook her head, still smiling. “It exploded. But everything inside the basket was fine! Isn’t that exciting? This could be proof that naturally occurring lightning can behave just like an electrical charge in a laboratory… they might even be the exact same thing!”

Applejack slumped. “You’re gonna wanna write a book about this, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes! I can’t wait!”

“Well for that to happen we need to get back home. Why don’t we do this one step at a time?”

“Right. Of course.” Twilight took a soggy booklet from her saddle bag. “Our first step is to find shelter. Check. Step two is to be as noticeable as possible… as soon as the rain lessens, I can tie one of our orange cloaks to the top of the tree. Also, the balloon landed nearby and it should be visible for kilometres. After that, all we have to do is to hug a tree.”

“Well, that sounds…” Applejack quirked an eyebrow. “Wait. Hug a what now?”

“Hug a tree!” Twilight held up the booklet. There was a cartoon illustration of a very young filly in a spooky forest, hugging a tall tree. The tree had a smiling face and its branches were sheltering the filly in return. “That means we have to stay in one place as long as possible. That makes it easier for search parties to find us.”

“Is this a children’s book?”

“Cheerilee asked me to publish a student booklet on forest and wilderness safety, and I still have a stack or two at the library to give away for free. We had a really famous artist do the illustrations, too… she’s made a lot of famous children’s stories. She makes hoof-stitched dolls, too.”

Applejack tapped the booklet. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander, I reckon.’ And we know Rainbow Dash is still out there, too! I’m sure she’ll find us in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

“I just know she will.” Twilight looked out of the cave and watched the rainfall. “As soon as this storm lets up, we’ll all be together again. And the most important thing is to stick together.”

They spent the rest of the day in the burrow. Even with half their food stores lost, there was enough to last two weeks. When night fell, the forest went from dark to pitch black. They huddled together, each wrapped in a cocoon of thick quilts.

Twilight spent the next day drying out her books and renovating the shelter. Her telekinesis excavated more space, and a ‘heavy-pressure’ spell turned the loose soil into smooth, hard-packed dirt. By chance she uncovered a clay deposit and went on to fashion a kiln and chimney for light and warmth.

Applejack, ever rugged, searched the surrounding forest for jettisoned crates. The balloon had come apart over a lake and the gondola had washed ashore completely empty. Not even Applejack would dare swim to the bottom of a strange lake during a storm. She searched further afield and managed to recover a keg of coal and a smattering of uncut gems. There wasn’t much else to find.

She returned to the shelter and busied herself with some carpentry: she took apart one of the empty crates and turned it into a proper cellar door. Crude, but enough to keep the rain out and the warmth in. When that was done, she used some of the leftover clay to fashion a set of plates and bowls.

After that, there was nothing to do but wait.

Twilight sat at a makeshift table, looking at a scroll densely packed with symbols and diagrams. She squinted at the lines, searching for the slightest error. Inscribing a hardcopy of a magic spell was easier than most ponies realized... the difficult part was always the spell-checking.

She flinched as the door opened wide. Applejack looked in, smiling. “Twilight! Come see!”

Twilight set her reading glasses aside and followed Applejack out. The forest was still dripping wet and there was white mist clinging to the ground, but the sky was clear and blue.

“When did this happen?”

“Half an hour ago. One minute it was stormin’ like crazy, and then... this! You must have had your nose to the grindstone, in there.”

Twilight watched a flock of songbirds take to the air. “It’s so beautiful...”

“After what we went through, I think we deserve a break.” Applejack went inside and came back with an orange cloak. “Come on, now. Let’s hoist the flag while we still can.”

Twilight took the cloak but paused to look around. “Do you think we should look around first?”

“Don’t you remember step two of your plan? We’ve got to be as noticeable as possible.”

Twilight’s frown faded. Her horn glowed and the cloak levitated to the highest branch of the tree. It slithered around in the air and pulled tight, forming a perfect bow.

Applejack nodded up. “Now that’s a pretty sight if I do say so m’self. Ready to put your map-maker’s kit to good use?”

“Definitely.” Twilight went in to pack her saddlebags. “I just hope Dash finds our flag before... well...”

Applejack perked an eyebrow. “Now what’s that all about?”

“This is the Everfree forest, after all. What if something else sees it first?”

“Don’t be silly. A critter won’t know what it means. I guess a bunch of birds might tug at it.”

“Right... of course.” Twilight followed after her.

They returned to the lake where the balloon had originally crashed.

“Where’s the gondola?” said Twilight. “Didn’t you say it was here before?”

“The storm could’a dragged it back into the water and sank it to the bottom.” Applejack went to the bank and ran her hoof over the rough sand. “No way to know for sure. The downpour woulda washed the marks away.”

Twilight sprinkled some beach sand onto her scroll and blew it off. “I’m not exactly sure where we are, but there should be a mountain range to the east of here.”

Applejack looked to the eastward sky. “I’d rather not go too far with this map-making business. Dash can scout a hundred times better than we can.”

“You’re right, but I think we should at least search our immediate surroundings. It would be good to find a place to forage for food.”

Applejack smiled. “You don’t need a map to do that, Twi. You can forage anywhere if you know how to look.”

“Really?” Twilight rolled up the scroll. “Then why haven’t we found anything yet?”

“We weren’t looking, is all. Nature’s bounty is all around us!”

“Really?” Twilight said. “Can you see anything now?”

“Well, there’s...” Applejack looked around. “There’s always wildflowers. And all kinds of nuts and berries.”

Twilight glanced around, eagerly. “Which ones?”

“Well all right, you got me there. I don’t see anything right here... but I’ll keep my eyes open as we walk. We’ll have a whole basket of food by the time we’re home. You’ll see!”

They left the lake in a northwesterly direction, circling around their home tree. The trees here were tall and straight, and their black bark was stained with patches of lichen. Applejack darted back and forth, searching. Twilight focused on her scroll as she walked.

The mountain range must be connected to the storms, somehow. The change in air pressure must be causing some sort of turbulence. But why now? What could have changed? She tickled her nose with the end of her quill. Mountains don’t change shape that quickly. Maybe it’s the wind? Maybe it’s blowing in a different direction, now?

“Twilight! Come look at this!” Applejack ran over and showed her a small basket. “Didn’t I tell ya? We’ll have trail mix and mushroom stew in no time.”

Twilight peered into the basket. Her horn glowed, and an aura of sparkles lifted up a red-spotted mushroom. “These are Phycacia Pyronomia. I’m pretty sure they’re poisonous.”

“Well, there’s still these nuts. There was a whole walnut tree over yonder.” Applejack took a walnut in her mouth and cracked it open. When she set it down, the inside was musty and black.

“Aw, nuts.”

“Here, let me take a look.” Twilight Sparkle leaned close. She frowned in concentration, and her horn glimmered. “I’m not detecting any poison or decay. They should be safe to eat. I don’t know how nutritious they are, though.”

“Well, you know what they say. When the going gets tough...!”

Applejack ate the broken walnut and spit out the empty shells. The longer her jw worked, the more her face contorted. It sounded like she was eating a mouthful of sand. She finally stopped chewing and just stood there, cheeks full.

Twilight watched her friend for a moment. “So, are they... nutritious?”

Applejack swallowed—very, very slowly—and gasped for breath.

“I remember when I first taught Applebloom how to run the windmill. She mixed up which bag was which and put the chaff in the pantry instead of the wheat. She accidentally baked a cake out of it.”

Twilight glanced at the basket of almonds. “...That bad?”

“Worse.”

“Well don’t let it get you down. We’ll just keep looking.”

Applejack nodded. They resumed walking.

“You know, it was just a silly mistake,” she said. “It could've happened to anypony. Applebloom’s baking has gotten a whole lot better since.”

Twilight smiled. “You don’t have to tell me that. Remember those little apple-cinnamon muffins she made?”

Applejack smiled, but her ears drooped. Both their bellies rumbled.

As they walked, the forest thickened. Treetops blotted out the sky, and the earth was spongy and wet. Clouds of tiny mayflies buzzed back and forth. Twilight stopped to make a few notes. Applejack dug at the ground and took a close look.

“I don’t understand it. A place like this should be teeming with wild plants and animals. Even the soil looks... well, I’m not sure what to make of it.”

Twilight didn’t look up from her scroll. “I know it looks bad, but swampy soil is actually very rich in nutrients. It can be extremely fertile if you can drain the water.”

“Trust me, Twilight, I know when land is good for growing.” She looked at the trees around them, festooned with vines and moss. “I’m not sure what this land is good for.”

“Actually, I’ve noticed a couple of interesting plants already.” Twilight pointed at a strange mushroom: a series of horizontal shelves growing from the side of a tree. “I remember seeing these in one of Zecora’s alchemical formularies. They’re good for making medicine.”

Applejack’s ears perked up. “You mean we can eat ‘em?”

“Oh, no. They’re poisonous when raw. You have to reduce them to a special powder and mix them with something else.”

Applejack sighed, and looked at the curious fungus. After a moment, something behind the tree caught her eye. “Hey, Twilight? What’s that over there?”

Twilight looked up from her scroll. “Over where?”

Applejack squinted. “I could swear I saw something sparkle. Like a piece of glass or something.”

Twilight came over and watched the forest. “Where was it?”

“Not sure... it was quick.” Applejack walked ahead, searching the trees. “There... there it is!”

They ran to a black, gnarled tree and looked up at a tiny object hanging from a branch: A figure made of twigs and bound with string. It was made up of triangular shapes and there was something small and sparkly tied to the middle of it.

Twilight pointed up. “Look, there’s more of them... hanging from the other branches.”

Applejack walked around the tree and went to a branch that was low to the ground, peering at the nearest figure. “It doesn’t look anything like a pony, that’s for sure.”

Twilight peered closer. “Hm. Two arms, two legs, and one head.”

“Well that just ain’t natural.”

“Spike has two arms and two legs, and he’s perfectly friendly. And remember those diamond dogs that kidnapped Rarity?”

“I guess so. But they weren’t so friendly.” Applejack leaned closer. “Is that some kinda jewel?”

“It’s been cut like a gemstone, but it’s just quartz. Not even semi-precious.”

“Why would anypony do that?”

Twilight shook her head. “No idea. Quartz crystals have only a few practical applications. None of them are particularly useful, and none of them involve twigs and twine.”

“Well is it... magical? Or something?”

“This one? Definitely not. I would have noticed right away.”

“Somepony must have made it, right? And put it here?”

Twilight frowned. “I suppose so.”

“Maybe they’re for good luck,” Aplejack said, “or maybe somepony is trying to decorate the forest. Pretty it up with some ornaments.”

They looked at the curious little craft. A breeze whistled through the branches, causing the stick figures to bounce back and forth.

“Say, Twilight? What time is it?”

Twilight looked at the sun, filtered by the leaves above. “Afternoon. We should probably head back soon, before night falls.”

“Yeah.” Applejack looked down. “I’m sorry I couldn’t find anything to eat, Twi.”

“It’s all right. Our map is only half finished, and we have enough food to last awhile longer.” Twilight turned towards their home camp, but paused to look back. “You know, maybe there’s something to these little figures.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“Not sure.” Twilight watched the gnarled, black tree. “Maybe I should take one home with us... learn more about it.”

Applejack gently bit her lip. “What good would that do us?”

“If it was put here on purpose there must have been a reason. If we can learn that reason, we might learn something about the creatures who put it here.”

“There’s got to be other ways to learn about ’em, right? I mean, this would be kind of like... stealing.”

“I doubt they’ll miss just one.” Twilight’s horn glowed, and an aura of sparkles gripped one of the figures.

“Twilight, please stop!”

Twilight stopped and turned to her friend, who was prancing in place and glancing left and right. “Applejack? What’s wrong?”

“I... it’s just...” Applejack stopped pacing. “Can we please just leave it alone? It’s all so...”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “...Spooky?”

“Well, yeah. That too. But it’s something we don’t understand. You shouldn’t always poke things you don’t understand.”

“It’s just a stick figure. Not exactly a big deal.”

“If it’s not important,” she said, “then why do you want one so much? I’d love to learn more about it—Really, I would—but we’re havin’ a bit of an emergency here. Maybe once we’re all together again...?”

“You’re right, of course.” Twilight said, and the glow of her magic faded away. She looked up at the rich orange sky, faintly visible through the tree cover. “We should probably hurry home before it gets any darker.”

“There you go. We’ll be warm and cozy before you know it!”

Applejack followed her friend back the way they’d came. She paused only once to look back, but in the growing darkness the gnarled black tree was harder to make out. The figures were floating in the breeze, dancing back and forth.

"Is that you, Twilight?"

Twilight and Applejack awoke the next day and finished off the last of the apples. They still had a quarter-keg of oats left: a rugged but filling grain that would last them no more than a week. Twilight gathered up her writing tools and Applejack hefted the saddlebags they’d fashioned from a pair of baskets. They donned their orange coats and ventured into the forest.

The terrain to their immediate south was sparse, and much less murky. Applejack managed to find several gooseberry bushes, too sour to eat without seasoning. They came across two more almond trees and, with a swift kick to each, they were showered with nuts. They were hard and bitter, but not rotten. Applejack scratched at the soil and found nothing particularly unwholesome about it.

After hiking for half an hour, they found the prints. There were three of them, in a muddy patch that must have dried after the rainstorm. The grass around it was undisturbed.

“That’s no hoof print,” Applejack said. “Whatever it was, it must be huge.”

Twilight sketched a diagram in her notebook. “The original mark could have enlarged over time as the mud dried out.”

“What do you think it was?”

“It’s too faded to be sure. Probably a day or two old.”

“But if you had to guess...?”

“I suppose... if I had to... probably a bear.”

Applejack clenched her jaw. “Bears.”

“Or some kind of jungle cat. I can’t really make out how many toes it has. And it would have to be an awfully large cat.”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “You mean, like a lion? Or a tiger?”

“A tiger might be about the right size. Or possibly a mountain lion... they have extra wide feet, to help them walk through snow.”

“Well, you did mention a mountain range.” Applejack backed up a step, and took a nervous look around. “This is... good news. Right?”

“Lions, tigers and bears are all perfectly natural animals. I’m more worried about monsters. These tracks could have been made by a monster with the feet of an animal.”

“M-m-m-monsters...?!”

“Oh my goodness!” Twilight rushed over and gave her a brief, reassuring hug. “I didn’t mean to scare you, honest! I promise we’ll be just fine.”

“Aw, shucks...” Applejack patted her on the back then stepped away with a smile. “I don’t know what came over me! Thanks for sorting me out.”

“There’s the old Applejack!” Twilight put her notebook away. “Come on. We’ll have our map finished by the end of the day.

They headed for home with a completed map and a bushel of gooseberries and almonds. They came across several blossoming shrubs and packed their second bushel full of wild roses: the delicious bouquets raised their spirits considerably. When they returned to the burrow, the scent of roses was strong enough to mask the smell of burning firewood.

Applejack turned in her sleep and pulled her quilt close. A moment later, she stuck her pillow firmly against her head and covered her ears. A faint, intermittent scratching sound made it impossible to rest. She sat up with a groan, but tensed when she remembered where she was. Their hollowed out shelter was pitch black. The warmth from their tiny kiln was gone. The scratching continued.

She sat upright, alert. She reached over to give Twilight a shake but the second sleeping mat was empty and her quilts were shoved to the side.

Well that’s odd... she usually folds them up all neat and tidy.

Applejack looked around the room again. Despite the darkness, she could tell she was alone. She thought about all the possible reasons Twilight might have had to leave the shelter. The faint scratching sound was coming from the other side of the trapdoor. It was probably Twilight, but why was she trying to keep quiet? To avoid waking Applejack, of course. She would probably be back inside after a minute or so.

Applejack laid down again, hugging her quilt. The longer she waited the darker the room seemed to get. The scratching continued, steady and regular. It didn’t sound like Twilight was really doing anything. Just scratching. At the trapdoor. It then occurred to her that the trapdoor was the only entrance to their shelter... the only way in or out.

She stood up and slowly went to the door. She stood at the bottom of the dirt ramp and gazed up at the crude wooden surface. Whatever it was, it was right on the other side.

“Twilight?” Applejack jumped at the nervous tone of her own voice. She swallowed, then spoke up. “Is that you, Twilight? Are you up there?”

The scratching continued. Probably just some branches scraping in the wind.

“The door ain’t locked, you know.” Applejack winced. “I mean... it isn’t locked. You’re always tellin’ me how ain’t ain’t a word. I mean... isn’t a word.”

She froze as a glimmer of light peeked through the edges of the door. Was that Twilight? Was she using her magic? The light wasn’t purple and there weren’t any sparkles. She’d probably used a spell to create normal, uncoloured light.

“All right, Twi. I’m coming up now. If you want me to stay down here, go ahead and say so.”

Applejack walked up the tiny ramp. The light continued to seep in, cold and pale. As soon as she pushed against the door, a surge of light blinded her and she heard something spill into the room... a heap of dry branches and twigs. She felt a swarm of tiny animals brush against her ankles. It startled her, but didn’t frighten her. She’d dealt with rats and mice before.

When her eyes adjusted, she saw what they were: the stick figures. The tiny shapes brushed against her ankles as they poured inside. The quartz crystals sewn into their bodies glowed with the cold light of a full moon. Their tiny legs and arms crackled as they moved, and they carpeted the floor and climbed up the walls. They moved quickly, with the irritating near-silence of a mosquito’s buzz.

Applejack did the only thing she could think of and charged outside. It was better than being trapped in a dead end. When she emerged she saw stick figures swarming over the whole clearing, crawling down from the trunk of the tree. They crunched under her hooves just like real twigs. They clung to her tail and legs as she charged past; as soon as she left the clearing, she shook herself violently. Once she settled down, she realized she’d been screaming since she’d left the shelter. Her throat was raw and sore.

All right, Applejack... get ahold of yourself. They’re just twigs, aren’t they?

She pressed her back against the nearest tree and listened to the distant crackling. After several deep breaths, she peeked around the trunk. The swarm of little quartz crystals illuminated the clearing completely.

At least they’re all lit up. I can spot them a mile away.

She took another slow breath and began creeping back towards the shelter. Her legs trembled with every step. She reached the edge of the clearing, and saw the swarm of stickmen pouring out of the shelter.

There. They’re leaving the shelter. That’s the end of that. Whatever they wanted, they must’ve...

Applejack tensed as she saw them carrying the crates and barrels: they moved like a carpet of ants, hoisting the larger objects overhead. They tugged and pulled at the last of the supplies, dragging them into the forest.

“The food!” Applejack’s fear vanished. She charged at the swarm. “Don’t you dare steal that! It’s all we have left!”

The stickmen rushed out of the clearing with their plunder. Applejack charged close and began trampling them into the dirt. The swarm split into groups and scattered, carrying each of the crates in a different direction. They were swift for their size, but not swift enough: She ran to the nearest group and shoved the box onto its side. By the time she’d trampled this swarm, the others had escaped. Applejack left the box where it was and gave chase.

The glowing stickmen were easy to see, but reaching them seemed impossible. She could barely see a few yards, and branches and trees blocked her path without warning. The lights grew faint and distant until, finally, she was alone.

Applejack slowed to a halt and looked around. She ran a few yards further, then turned back the way she’d came... the way she’d probably came from. She looked to the sky. No sun or moon. No stars. No landmarks.

“Twilight...?” Her voice sounded frail. It was like hearing somepony else’s voice. She took a breath and steadied her nerves.

“Twilight! You out there?” She turned in a little circle, searching for her own hoof prints. “Is anypony out there? Anypony at all?”

Applejack heard a heavy footfall behind her, and her mane prickled. Slowly, she turned around and looked at the giant shape behind her. It was too dark to make out any details, but its silhouette was clearly visible against the black trees. It looked like a pony, but massive. It’s neck rose up high, and Applejack realized it didn’t have a head. It had... something else. A second torso, with a pair of muscular arms and a bird-like head with long curving horns. It held a long, pointed lance at the ready.

Applejack stared at the impossible figure. “Ah... I don’t... suppose...”

The black creature roared at her. It’s guttural voice was a composite of every monstrous beast imaginable. Applejack yelled in terror, and fell to the ground as if struck.

The monster lowered its lance and charged. Its body clanked like heavy metal, but moved with the strength and speed of a steam engine. Applejack scarcely scrambled upright by the time it was upon her.

She awoke with a gasp but didn’t quite scream aloud. She lay on her sleeping mat for a moment, staring at the ceiling and waiting for her jitters to fade. Eventually, her heart and lungs calmed. She looked around the shelter and saw their stack of supplies. Another glance revealed Twilight on the mat beside her, fast asleep.

Applejack tossed off her quilts and rushed to the crates and barrels. A quick search revealed nothing out of place. She looked at the trapdoor exit and flinched when she saw light creeping in through the edges, but relaxed when she saw it was sunlight.

Just a dream. There’s nothing strange about that. Sure, it was scary... but you’ve been away from home for almost two weeks now. You sure won’t be dreamin’ about fritters and pies.

She thought about the dream. About how utterly, completely real it had felt. What if it was more than just a dream? They were in the depths of the everfree forest, after all. But even so, what could have caused such a...

No... oh, no! She couldn’t have!

Applejack ran to the makeshift writing desk she’d hammered together. She opened every drawer and shuffled through the neatly arranged scrolls and notebooks. She opened each of Twilight’s little cases: writing kits full of inkwells, quills, and other supplies. She found nothing and quickened her pace. She spilled a box of blank scrolls onto the floor and searched through the pile.

“Applejack?” Twilight sat upright, rubbing her eyes. “What are you doing? Are those my scrolls?”

Applejack rushed to her, frantic. “Did you take one of them?”

“...Take one of what?”

“The stick figures!” said Applejack. “The ones hanging in the tree! You remember, don’t you?”

“Sure I do. I’ve been thinking about what a quartz crystal would be useful for, outside of a laboratory envirom—”

“You took one, didn’t you!” Applejack leaned forward, shouting. “How could you?! I told you to leave well enough alone! Why didn’t you listen to me?!”

Twilight shook her head. “What are you talking about? I never did!”

Applejack stopped and took a breath. “Twilight. Did you take one? If you did, you can tell me. I won’t be angry. I just—”

“I didn’t. I swear. Pinkie swear, even. I wanted to, but you asked me not to... I’d never go back on a promise to a friend. It’s a good way to lose a fr—” Twilight paused to glance about the room, scanning the crates and barrels.

“Twi?”

“...Nevermind. As I was saying, it’s a good way to lose a friend. Forever.” Twilight went to her desk and began tidying the mess. “Besides, you know what I’m like when I try to be sneaky. If I did take the stick figure, I’d never be able to keep it a secret from you.”

“But then... why...” Applejack looked at her sleeping mat, befuddled.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen while I was asleep?”

“Nothing. I had a weird dream, is all. It was spooky, and it felt so real... but that’s all.”

“What was it about?”

Applejack shook her head. “Dunno. Nothin’, probably.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Why? Do you think it was more than just a dream?”

Twilight smiled. “No idea. But I’m sure that talking about it will make you feel better.”

Applejack managed to smile, but a scuffling sound brought it to an abrupt end. She stared at the ceiling, ears tilted forward. There was something in the clearing outside. Twilight opened her mouth to speak, but Applejack cut her off with a wave.

“Stay here,” Applejack whispered, “and stay quiet.”

She went to the exit before Twilight could respond. She raised the trapdoor, just a crack, and peered outside. The clearing looked empty and the shuffling sound had stopped. She lifted the door all the way.

Twilight went to her side and looked around. “Anything out there?”

Applejack shook her head. “I dunno. I coulda sworn I heard something moving around. Did you hear it too?”

There was a guttural roar as something burst out from above the trapdoor. Applejack shrieked and tumbled back into the shelter, landing flat on the ground. She hugged herself, trembling all over.

“Bwa-ha-ha!” There was a thump as Rainbow Dash fell on her back and kicked her legs in the air. She could barely speak through her laughter. “You should have heard yourself! You scream like a girl!”

Applejack stood up, furious and frightened at the same time. “How could you pull such a prank at a time like this?! There could be lions and tigers ’round these parts!”

“And here I thought you’d be happy to see me!” Dash flipped over and rested her chin on the bottom of the trap door's frame. Her eyes widened as she looked inside. “Whoa... you built all this in less than a week? It’s like a country cabin in here! Is that a fireplace?”

Twilight went to the kiln and started a fire. “Of course we’rehappy to see you. Applejack just had a strange dream last night and your prank probably didn’t help much.”

“Geez! I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” She walked in with a grin and dropped a pair of baskets on the floor. “I don’t suppose these’llmake up for it?”

Twilight and Applejack peered into the baskets. They were both packed full of green fruit, smaller than the ones they were used to in Ponyville.

Applejack’s eyes widened. “Wild apples! You got these for me?”

“They’re for both of you. I figured you might be all out of food. Or at least, out of fresh food.” She pushed the basket over. “You go ahead and dig in.”

Applejack bit down on a stem and tossed her head back, catching the apple in her mouth as it fell. She ate it in one bite with a wet crunch.

Dash nodded to her. “Soooo... apology accepted?”

Applejack swallowed and answered her question with a smile.

Twilight carried the other basket inside. “Where did you find these? We searched for two days and found almost nothing to eat.”

“There’s a forest to the east between here and the mountains, and those trees have all kinds of fruits and nuts. I went there to sleep at night and came back here during the day to search for you two. I probably could have found you a little sooner if it hadn’t been for the trip back and forth, but it was the only decent place to camp out.”

Twilight’s raised an eyebrow. “You said there were mountains?”

“Sure. A whole line of ’em to the north east. It’s a long walk, but a short flight.”

Twilight’s horn glowed, and an array of writing implements hovered in the air and assembled themselves on the table. Twilight unrolled the map she’d been making, and sat with her quill at the ready

“Tell me everything.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in being... neighborly.”

Weatherponies were trained to work very closely with cartographers, and Rainbow Dash’s report on the surrounding terrain was thorough and detailed. Altitude levels, biome types, average rainfall and wind speed... everything they might need to make sense of the local weather system.

After an hour of sharing notes they were ready to set out. They left behind anything non-perishable or non-essential: the quilts would keep forever, and they wouldn’t need a large stockpile of food. Once they’d settled into a new base camp Rainbow Dash could go back to retrieve what they’d left behind. They left a bright-orange cloak tied to the tree to serve as a landmark.

They set out east for the verdant forest Dash had mentioned. The area around the shelter was more than just a bleak forest: it was right on the edge of a swamp. If they had explored any further west, they would have been slogging through mud and marsh water. Dash hadn’t bothered exploring the swamp, but she knew it was huge... it stretched on further than even her eagle-sharp eyes could see. As they traveled away from it, the trees began to look vibrant and healthy. It was some time before they realized things weren’t actually pleasant here. Just not as gloomy.

They walked at an excellent pace all day, with Dash flying above to scout out the best land route. They came across no more of the stick figures, nor the tracks of any unnaturally large animals, and spent the night camped under the sheltering crown of a giant oak.

By noon the next day they reached the edge of the forest at last, and emerged from the trees and stood on a small cliff-side with a grand view: a massive mountain range dominated the horizon running in a northwesterly line. Below them a green valley followed the foot of the range. It looked like a lush jungle moat along the base of a castle wall. Flocks of birds wheeled over the jungle, mere specks in the distance. The mountaintops were white and silver with snow and ice and the tallest peaks pierced the lowest clouds.

“That’s definitely the same mountain range we saw from the balloon,” Twilight said and peered at her notes with a frown. “But I don’t recognize any of the individual peaks. We must be further north or south than before.”

Applejack stared, slack jawed. “That’s where we’re headed? It could take years to map the whole thing!”

“Maybe,” Twilight said, “but we don’t have to. We just need to find the problem area. We’re looking for a major ecological change... something that can create rainstorms strong enough to wander all the way back to Ponyville.”

Dash landed next to them. “We’re definitely in the right place for that. I spent almost a week looking for you two, and the storms are thicker here than anywhere else.”

Applejack looked to each of her friends in turn. “What normally causes rainstorms?”

“Two things,” said Dash. “Either something is adding water vapor to the air or something is cooling the air off. We’re probably dealing with both at the same time. Those clouds up there? Cumulonimbus. They’re very tall, very dense, and they look just about ready to burst.”

Dash pointed down along the mountainside and into the jungle below. “The wind that rolls down from the mountain is probably freezing cold and the air over that jungle is probably sweltering hot. When cold and warm air shove against each other... bam! Instant rainstorm.”

Applejack tugged her rain cloak tighter. “So whatever’s causing this could be in the mountains or the jungle?”

Dash nodded. “Or both.”

“We have to narrow it down,” said Twilight. “These storms appeared out of nowhere so there must have been a severe environmental upheaval. Does anything look out of place? Anything at all?”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash stared at the scenery.

“It could be anything,” she said. “Perhaps some kind of natural disaster or catastrophe? An earthquake, or a landslide?”

Applejack tilted her head to one side. “...What about a volcano?”

Dash rolled her eyes. “I think if something erupted we would've noticed by now.”

“Actually,” said Twilight, “a subglacial volcano would explain everything. A lava flow would melt ice and snow, producing warm air and water vapor.”

“Only one problem with that theory,” Dash said. “No volcano! Wouldn’t there be lava and ash all over the place?”

“There probably was,” said Twilight. “Volcanic ash is extremely rich in nutrients. An eruption could have covered that valley in ash... it would be the perfect soil for a jungle to grow in.”

“Doesn’t seem like a recent change,” Applejack said. “That jungle has to be at least a hundred years old.”

“The original eruption could have happened long ago. What we’re dealing with now could be a small fissure or vent: Enough to melt ice and snow, but not enough to cause any noticeable damage.”

“Great,” said Dash. “So how do we find a stealth volcano?”

Twilight gazed at the mountain range. She tapped the nib of her quill against the side of her notebook. Eventually, she pointed at one of the peaks. “Dash... does that one look different? The third one from the left?”

Dash flew up for a minute then called back to them. “It’s all shiny... it probably has a lot more ice buildup.”

“Like a glacier?”

“Nah,” Dash shouted back. “It looks like a glacier, but it’s way too fresh. Not even a year old.”

“Something must be melting the ice and creating runoff.” Twilight said and snapped her book shut. “There’s our problem area.”

They walked along the rocky ledge for a few minutes and came to a steep slope that led down into the valley. At first the jungle seemed like any other thick forest. As they went deeper the trees grew larger... much larger. They also formed layers: the thick underbrush was sheltered by the crowns of larger trees. Whenever they came to a break in the canopy, the sky was always shrouded by an even larger canopy further up, with plenty of open space between. They occasionally caught sight of Rainbow Dash gliding between the foliage and circling around gargantuan trunks. She returned to them at regular intervals to report on the geography ahead.

“Oh-my-gosh you guys, this is amazing! It’s like the trees are... clouds or something! You know how clouds form layers, right? Well this is just like that!”

“Uh-huh. Yeah.” Applejack kicked at the branches ahead and pushed her way through the dense underbrush.

“I mean, I’ve been in the Everfree forest before. Don’t get me wrong: it’s huge. But you can’t really fly through it! This is like a forest in the sky!”

Applejack pulled and kicked at a thick wall of vines, struggling to pull them down. “I’m sure it’s very exciting up there... but it’s real slow goin’ for us down here.”

“Yeah, that must suck. Hey, do you have a machete? That would be so perfect!”

“No, we don’t have a...” Applejack paused to consider. “What’s a machete? Exactly?”

“It’s a kind of big heavy knife.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. What good is a knife gonna do us?”

“They’re perfect for chopping through leaves and vines.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Of course we don’t have a big heavy knife. You’d probably just nick yourself by accident anyhow.”

Dash scowled at her. “Daring Do would remember to bring a machete to a jungle.”

Applejack offered her a mild scowl. “I’ll have you know, I’ve lived in or around woodlands all my life. A knife is the last thing we need. What we need is a deer path.”

Dash shook her head. “I’ve already looked everywhere. The underbrush is thick all over. Not even any streams or brooks.”

“Well, somepony ought to give the deer hereabouts a stern talking to, ’cause they’re not doing their job very well.”

“I don’t think there are any deer. Actually, I haven’t seen any animals, except for birds.”

“Can you please just keep looking? We’d really appreciate it. And if there is a path out there, I can’t think of anypony else who could find it.”

Rainbow sketched a quick salute. “Roger dodger! Daring Dash is on the trail!” She flew up and out of the brush.

Applejack waited until she was out of sight before rolling her eyes.

Twilight came up beside her. “She’s trying her best, you know.”

“I know, it must be terribly exciting for her, but this isn’t exactly peaches and cream for the rest of us.” Applejack pursed her lips. “It isn’t just me, is it?”

“Well there are a lot of amazing sights here,” said Twilight as she gazed all around. “My report to the academy is going to be longer than I thought. We don’t know much about how jungles grow, and this seems to be in an early formative stage... it’s only a century old!”

Applejack sighed, this time regretful. “It is just me, isn’t it?”

“You’re focused on the destination,” Twilight said, “and the reason we came out here in the first place. There’s nothing wrong with being sensible.”

“Beggin’ yer pardon, but tromping through the brush doesn’t seem particularly sensible to me. This is slow going and we can’t see more than a few yards. We’re just beggin’ to be bushwhacked.” Applejack reared up and kicked at a vine, trying to tug it down. "Can’t you use your magic to clear a path?”

“I’d rather not.”

Applejack looked back at her. Twilight was looking away, trying to be nonchalant.

“Heh. You’re really no good at this whole ‘being sneaky’ thing, are you?”

“Yeah,” said Twilight with a sigh. “The truth is... magic is much harder to use in the Everfree Forest. In any wilderness, actually: pony magic is strongest in civilized areas. I could cast a ‘clear-the-way’ spell, but I’d rather not risk it.”

“You sure about that? I’ve seen you do some amazing things.”

“You know how pegasi can control the weather? Well that’s a kind of magic too, and it’s much harder in the wilderness. I asked Dash about it before we left and she said that naturally occurring weather is very chaotic. Very unpredictable. Even basic weather can go wildly out of control.”

“Are you saying your magic could go out of control?”

“Normally, it wouldn’t. It would just be more difficult to use.” Twilight looked at the claustrophobic greenery. “But here...?”

“Hey girls!” Rainbow dash burst through the leaves above and hovered over them. “I found a path! Right this way!”

They followed as quickly as the brush would allow, and came to a rough dirt path. The smaller trees to each side arched up and joined in the middle, enclosing the path completely.

Applejack let out a low whistle. “Mighty good eyes on you, girl! We never would’ve found this on our own, and it was only a dozen yards away.”

“What’d I say, girls? I’ve got survival instincts like nopony’s business.”

“This is great!” Twilight said, glancing down each side of the path. “Where does it lead?”

“That way leads to a pond. Pretty gross. The other way... dunno.”

“Only one way to find out!” Applejack said as she headed down the path.

With the thick, low ceiling, Dash followed them on foot. Before long, she looked up. “Ooh... check that out!” She hovered up and rummaged in the overhanging branches.

“Check what out?” Applejack looked up, and gasped in shock. “Heavens to Betsy! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Wrong...?” Rainbow Dash held up the small, homemade stick figure fashioned from twigs and twine. “I think it’s cool.”

“Cool?! Put it back before you get us all... before you...”

“Before what, exactly?” said Dash. “Are you okay? You look spooked.”

Twilight stepped forward. “She had a scary dream earlier, and those stick... thingies... were involved. Somehow.”

Applejack frowned. “It wasn’t that scary.”

“Really?” Dash said, and dangled the figure over Applejack’s face. “Ooh-oooh! Spoooky!”

Applejack retreated a step, ready to rear up. “You put that thing back exactly where you found it this instant!”

“Jeez! You sound like my old teacher. My old kinder-garden teacher.”

Applejack straightened up and wiped a drop of sweat off her brow. “Now look. If you put it back, and I’m wrong, then it doesn’t matter. But if I’m right...”

“Yeah, sure.” Dash began tugging at the crystal in the center. “Wow, that’s really on there tight. Anypony have a pair of scissors?”

“Rainbow Dash!”Applejack shouted and stamped both front hooves.

Dash and Twilight both flinched.

Applejack settled down and took a breath. “Okay. You know those Daring Do books? How she explores all kinds of ruined temples?”

“Oh, yeah. I’ve almost finished the whole series and there’s a new book coming out soon!”

“Does Daring Do ever take anything when she’s on an adventure?”

“No way. Daring Do never steals... she only steals things back. She has the utmost respect for... oh. Yeah.”

“So? Do you think, maybe, you could...?” Applejack nudged her nose towards the branches above.

“Yeah... prolly. I guess.” She hovered up and put the figure back in place.

They continued along the path for a minute. Dash watched the branches, and caught sight of several more glinting figures. Whenever she opened her mouth to comment, a glare from Applejack interrupted her.

Dash finally dropped down and walked next to Twilight. “So... did you make notes about the stick thingies?”

“Of course.”

“Cool. Cool.” She looked away and rubbed the side of her neck. “Sooo... do you think I could have a journal of my own? For notes? And stuff?”

Twilight smiled at her. “I always keep a couple spares just in case.”

Soon enough, the path led them to a clearing where the lowest layer of brush had been removed. The vast canopy above was clearly visible, with curtains of sunlight shining down through the leaves and mist. There, in the middle of the clearing, was a mound of grassy sod with windows and a door. There was a garden in the front yard made of a series of raised tiers, and a carefully arranged stream wandered through the garden and trickled into a reflecting pool. The whole property had been designed and constructed with great care, but had fallen into extreme disrepair: The bushes and flowers were all thorny and choked with weeds, and the flagstone path that led to the door was uneven and choked with crabgrass. The reflecting pool was stagnant and brackish.

The three of them stared at the sod hut for some time.

“Well, that was interestin’,” Applejack said and turned back the way they’d came. “So how about them mountains, right? I’ve never seen a volcano before and I bet none of you have either. Sounds exciting, don’t it?”

Applejack walked back to the enclosed path but stopped when she realized she was alone. Twilight and Dash were still staring at the clearing.

“Hello, there? Volcano? Oughta get moving, right?”

Dash squinted at the yard. “Is that garden full of weeds, or is it just a garden made entirely of weeds?”

Twilight scraped a hoof against one of the flagstones. “The path is overgrown, but there’s no soil buildup... it’s like somepony’s swept it clean.”

“Girls!” Applejack said, walking in place. “That volcano won’t exctinctify itself, you know!”

Dash flew up and pointed across the clearing. “There’s an open stables over there... and a chicken coop, too.”

“It doesn’t look like anypony’s home at the moment. How long do you think we could afford to wait?”

“We can’t,” Applejack said. “Now let’s hop to it.”

Dash flew over and pushed her face against one of the sloping, murky windows. “You think they’ve got food in there? Or at least some soap and a bathtub? Starting to get a little funky.”

“You leave that alone!” called applejack. “How would you feel if somepony went into your house without asking? It’d be... it’d be right... creepy, wouldn’t it?”

Twilight walked up the curving path and went to the door. “We’re not going to go in, of course. But we can still knock, right?”

Dash landed next to her. “Why not? We could really use a friend right now, and this is our chance to be neighborly.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in being... neighborly.” Applejack walked over and stared at the ornate wooden door. “Whoever built it musta knew what they were doing. It’s pretty solid, and those’re some fine-looking carvings... shame they let it go so badly.”

Twilight knocked on the door. “Hello, there! Is anyp... anyone home?”

With the third knock the door slowly creaked open. Twilight glanced at her friends, both of whom simply shrugged. Her horn glowed, and a cone of warm golden light illuminated the interior.

Twilight stepped closer. “Hello? Is anyone—” She gasped as something buzzed by her nose. She stepped back, and a tiny spray of sparks arced from her horn. Her light spell spritzed and sputtered, and some of the larger sparks turned into glowing dragonflies that fluttered away and faded like embers.

Twilight swallowed and canceled the light spell before approaching the door again. “Hello? Excuse me, but is anyone home?”

Rainbow Dash stepped forward.

Applejack caught her shoulder before she could enter. “This is not a good idea.”

Dash peered in. “We’re not going to do anything. Just take a look. And what if they’re hurt or something?”

Applejack swallowed and watched as she went inside. “I’ll just... stay out here. You know. Stand watch.”

“Good idea, AJ.”

“Just in case the owner comes back and sees us... y’know. Trespassing.”

Twilight followed inside but paused to look back at Applejack. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t touch anything. Promise.”

Twilight went inside and looked around. The whole sod house was one large space with curtains to partition rooms as needed. The floor was a natural deposit of moist clay littered with dry leaves. The low ceiling was loose soil held up by a dome of curved wooden struts: It looked like a spiderweb, but with concentric rings instead of a spiral. The soil it supported was thick and packed tight, but a forest of little roots dangled down from it. There were numerous netting-sacks hanging from hooks, each loaded near to bursting with clay jars and sealed gourds.

There were only a few furnishings. The largest was a circular oven in the center of the room, like a fireplace with an oven range on top. The chimney was made of mortared stone bricks and formed a pillar through the middle of the room, more than strong enough to support the roof. The rest of the furniture was made of lumber: there were counter-tops and shelves along every inch of the elliptical wall and there were chairs and tables all over. The wood was unvarnished and splintery, but the rich red hue hinted at expensive hardwood.

“I don’t get it,” Twilight whispered to herself. She wiped a bit of grime off the nearest chair. “Everything is so well crafted, but so...”

“Check this out!” Dash turned around and held up a pair of baggy, frilly bloomers. “Giant grandma undies! Is this crazy or what?”

“Dash, how could you?” she said, “that’s someone’s clothing! We’re not here to pry.”

Dash nodded behind herself. “It wasn’t folded up or anything. There’s a whole heap of laundry here on the bed.”

Twilight scrunched her nose. “Then it’s probably filthy!”

“Nah, it’s squeaky clean... just really old and worn. Hey, there’s even some dresses here! Maybe we should’ve brought Rarity along after all.”

“I doubt she would have agreed to rummage through someone else’s wardrobe without asking. She’d consider it a crime of high treason against fashion.” Twilight looked around the crowded, cluttered room. “I’m starting to think Applejack was right. We shouldn’t be in here at all.”

“Aw, come on...”

“No, I’m serious. We need to go now.”

“Are you sure?" Dash said, "there’s some books over there.”

Twilight gasped and looked to the opposite wall. One of the shelves was actually a set of bookshelves. She ran over, shoving past a few of the netting-sacks.

“They’re all hoofbound. That’s a dying art, these days! And there’s a writing desk, and a... oh-mi-goodnessshe makes her own quills! Do you have any idea how difficult that is?” Her horn glowed and a book pulled free from the shelf.

Dash’s eyes widened. “Whoa, there! Are you sure you should be using magic in here? I thought you said...”

Twilight opened the book and flipped through the pages. “Look at the binding... such tiny stitches!”

Dash reached over and closed the book. “What was that you said about prying?”

Twilight bit her lip and stared at the collection of tomes, all different shapes and sizes. Only a few of the spines were labeled, all in an incomprehensible language. Were they reference books? Journals? Formularies? Works of fiction? How hard would they be to translate? Perhaps there were diagrams or illustrations she could make sense of.

“You’re right,” Twilight set the book back on the shelf. “It really is none of our business.”

Dash nodded and went to the front door. Twilight followed her, but paused by one of the work tables. It was cluttered with crusty jars of chemicals and several wool-spindles. There were also bundles of small branches and rolls of rough twine. The table beside it held a set of tiny chisels and hammers, and a clay bowl filled with rough white stones.

“You coming, Twi?”

“Yes... of course. I’ll be right out.”

They did their best to leave the hut as they’d found it. As they left, Dash took one last look at the clearing.

“Dash?” Twilight called out. “Something wrong?”

“Maybe it’s nothing, but... there’s an axe in that tree-stump over there.”

“An axe? Where?”

“Over there,” Dash said, “right next to that chicken coop... but I don’t see any firewood around.”

“It’s probably nothing. Come on. We’d best get moving.”

“Sure... sure.”

"That doesn't sound like wind. Or water."

After walking east for ten minutes the choking underbrush thinned out until only the largest trees remained, giving them plenty of open space to walk through. Now, the uppermost crown of foliage truly did resemble a layer of emerald-green clouds. The ground sloped up, and the jungle gave way to rocky highlands. The icy mountain range loomed ahead of them.

They unpacked the cold-weather cloaks Rarity had given them. They were the same fluorescent orange as the rain-cloaks, but made of quilted goose-down. They proved unnecessary: despite the snow and ice all around, the air was merely cool.

“This can’t be right,” Applejack said, watching a nearby trickle of meltwater. “I was only kidding about the volcano thing.”

Twilight looked further up the mountainside. “I have to admit, this doesn’t look like a volcanic problem after all... there should be vents and geysers here and there, but it looks like the whole region is thawing."

“Hey!” Rainbow Dash called from above. “There’s a cave entrance up ahead! A couple of them!”

Twilight smiled up at her. “Perfect! A little spelunking will tell us what we need to know. Any signs of trouble?”

“Blue skies! I mean, apart from the clouds everywhere. But it looks clear!”

Twilight and Applejack rushed ahead, wary of the slick ice. After a few minutes of climbing, the clouds above grew thick and heavy. A light smattering of rain covered the mountainside.

“Consarn it! These goose-downs will be heavy as rocks if they’re soaked.” She paused to open her left saddlebag. “Can you help me get out the rain-cloaks?”

Twilight ran over and tugged at the latch. By the time they were dressed, the light rain had become a heavy downpour.

“Hey! You okay down there?”

Applejack searched for Dash through the rain. “Fine, so far. Better come down and put on a rain-cloak.”

“I’ll be fine. It takes more than this to slow me down.”

“You need to wear a cloak so we can see you!” Applejack waved the brightly colored garment at her. “And what’s with this weather, anyhow? I thought you said it was all clear ahead!”

“Well the rain wasn’t here a minute ago, was it?”

“Yeah, sure.” Applejack tensed as a deep rumble echoed around them. “What was that?!”

Dash swept down and landed beside them. “Probably thunder. But it wasn’t there a minute ago!”

Another rumble shook the ground... this time, followed by a deep, resonant cracking. The three ponies looked up the mountainside just as a massive chunk of glacier slid loose.

“Go for the caves!”Dash shouted as she flew overhead. “It’s the only cover for miles!”

Applejack and Twilight broke into a gallop, charging towards the distant avalanche. The chunk of glacier began tumbling, and a wave of snow gathered to each side of it. They could see the shadowy cave mouths ahead. The avalanche was still distant, but several rolling chunks of snow had begun to pick up speed.

“Twi!” shouted Applejack, “those snowballs are headed right for us! Now would be a really good time to—”

“I know! Stay close to me!”

Applejack rushed to her side as the nearest snowball tumbled closer. Twilight braced herself and lowered her head, and her horn flared with brilliant purple light as the ball struck them. Snow wasn’t nearly as hard as rock, or even ice, but it was still frozen water... and water was heavy. The ball struck an shimmering dome of force and sailed into the air, landing behind them. Most of it broke apart and scattered. Its core, however, continued rolling for a few seconds.

“Whoo!”Applejack yelled, and looked back.

Her smile faded as she saw what the snowball had hidden: A huge beast, covered with shaggy white fur. It flattened out and grasped the mountainside with long, curved claws. It spun around and scratched to a halt despite the icy-wet rock. It turned to look at them.

“Uh... Twi...?”

“Hold on, Applejack! There are more incoming!”

Applejack watched the bear loped towards them, its hunchbacked shoulders rippling with oversized muscle. Its paws and nose were tinted blue and its shaggy white hair flung off a spray of rainwater with every motion.

Applejack poked Twilight, rapidly. “I think you really need to see this...”

Twilight’s response was cut off by a bloodthirsty roar. She recognized it as the same sound they’d heard just before the avalanche: it hadn’t been thunder at all. Other roars echoed back in response, and the snowballs ahead burst apart all at once. The bears rolled along for a moment, then stretched out their claws and charged on all fours without breaking stride. The massive avalanche beyond them suddenly seemed insignificant.

Twilight’s reluctance to use magic vanished entirely and she charged ahead, horn flaring. These beasts were gargantuan—much larger than an ordinary polar bear—but Twilight Sparkle had dealt with far larger in the past. Although their claws were well adapted to ice, a ‘slick-and-greasy’ spell sent three of them sliding out of control. A turbo-charged ‘growing’ spell lengthened the shaggy coats of two others, tangling them up in several yards of excess fur. A ‘dress-up-disguise’ spell transformed two bears into picture perfect replicas of Twilight and Applejack: the others nearby immediately fell to brawling with them. And on it went... the maximum amount of chaos, caused by clever applications of the simplest spells.

Eventually, Twilight ran out of clever ideas. A bear burst out of the snow ahead of her, claws outstretched. She clenched her teeth and hurled it overhead in a display of raw force. She followed it up with a ‘powder-and-pepper’ spell, and our others fell to the ground wheezing and clutching their noses.

Twilight tensed as one of the bears reared up on its hind legs. He raised a staff made from the trunk of a slender tree, with its twisted roots clamped around a crude geode. He wore a tattered hood, and had grey cloth wrappings around his forearms. He raised his staff high, and a great bolt of light seared through the air. Twilight screamed and scrunched her eyes tight in pain.

Applejack grabbed her and tugged her along. “Come on, Twi! There’s no time to waste!”

“I can’t... I can’t see!” She opened her tear-streaked eyes: they were milky white. “They aren’t just animals! One of them can use magic!”

Applejack looked up, and froze. They were surrounded. The bears were all standing upright or crouching in a three point stance. Her eyes flicked back and forth, and came to rest on the staff bearer.

“We surrender,” said Applejack. “Treat us fairly, and we promise to go along peacefully.”

“Kill them,” the leader growled. “Both of them.”

An explosion of prismatic light and color momentarily blinded them all, and a shockwave of force slammed the leader back and sundered his staff into splinters. The others gasped and looked to the sky: A rainbow ribbon arced up, let out a disc-shaped burst of air, and wheeled around for a second pass. The bears roared as the sky-blue missile bore down on them: several of them reared up to swipe at the dive-bombing pegasus, but all were knocked back with a deafening whipcrack.

Twilight and Applejack wasted no time and fled into the caves unnoticed. By now, the avalanche was nearly on them. The rainbow ribbon abandoned the bears and rushed towards them: Dash streaked past them with the force of a gale, just as the wave of snow buried the entrance and plunged them into total darkness.

Rainbow Dash gradually came to with a head full of cotton. She groaned as somepony patted her cheek.

“Did it... work?”

Twilight smiled down at her. Her blind eyes had recovered. “You were amazing out there.”

Dash managed a dazed, goofy smile. “Tell me you’re putting that in your journal,” she said before collapsing into unconsciousness.

After half an hour of rest they set out to explore the caverns. There wasn’t much choice in the matter: even if they could clear the snow from the entrance, there was no telling what might be waiting for them on the other side. Dash had mentioned multiple cave entrances, and there was a decent chance that at least one of them was connected to the same network they were in.

They moved slowly but steadily. Twilight kept her light spell as weak as possible, and their eyes adjusted to the dim glow. Her map of the caves was a simple flowchart, and she left chalk-mark numbers on the floor of every juncture.

Rainbow Dash had survived the battle with only a badly bruised wing to show for it. They’d tied splints to her wing for support, but she could still walk.

As they went further in, a howling wind rushed past them. Applejack shivered, and took out her cold-weather cloak. “This can’t possibly be a volcano problem.”

Dash’s ears perked up. “You think there are more of those bears are down here?”

“Not necessarily,” Twilight said. “Cave walls can carry sound a long way, distorting it. It’s probably just blowing wind or rushing water.”

“So... there aren’t any bears down there?”

Twilight shrugged. “I didn’t say that.”

Applejack gasped and pointed at the cave wall. “Look there!”

Twilight raised the intensity of her light and shone it at the wall. There were carvings in the rock: symbols chiseled out of straight lines and surrounded by decorative patterns.

“Language!” Twilight said as she rushed closer. “This is amazing! I don’t recognize it, but it’s definitely a form of runic script. Some of the oldest languages in the world are runes.”

“Ancient runes?!” Dash ran to her side, hopping excitedly. “You guys, you guys! We totally have to take some rubbings! That would be just too perfect!”

Applejack quirked an eyebrow. “...Rubbings?”

“I read all about it! You hold a piece of paper against something, then rub a piece of charcoal all over it. It makes a copy of the surface!”

Twilight shook her head. “Sorry, but there’s no way to copy all of it. There’s just too much.”

“We can still take a little rubbing, can’t we? As a souvenir?”

“Certainly. If I find any particularly important passages, I’ll let you know.” Twilight squinted up at the runes, and trotted further down the cave. “It looks like a record... maybe a historical account of something.”

Applejack stared at the writing. “That sounds like it could be real useful. Do you think you can translate it?”

“Maybe... hm. It does look sort of familiar. If only I had my linguistic reference with me.”

A distant, warped roar interrupted them.

Applejack glanced back the way they’d came. “That doesn’t sound like wind. Or water.”

“Come on. We’d better find an exit.”

They moved ahead at a gallop. Twilight kept her map notes as brief as possible, and dimmed her magical light even further. The sound of heavy footfalls and scratching claws echoed all around them, growing louder with each passing moment.

Applejack glanced behind them. “Twilight...?”

“I know,” she said, and flipped to an earlier page in her journal.

Dash flinched at a particularly loud roar. “Twilight? I think they’re getting...”

“I know!”Twilight’s eyes flitted back and forth, scanning the nearest branch of the cave. “The exit has to be around here somewhere... it has to be!”

Dash pointed at a nearby wall. “Not to focus on the negative, but if we were nearer to the surface wouldn’t there be less writing?”

“That doesn’t necessarily...” Twilight stopped, and scanned the writing. It was different now. It was still a runic script, but the symbols were larger and the strokes were jagged. Like claw marks.

Applejack turned around, trying to face the nearest sound. “This place is a maze, but it sounds like they’re right on our tails! How could they have found us down here?”

A hulking pale brute stepped into view, with a half-dozen followers right behind him.

“The runes in this part of the cave are theirs.” Twilight stared up at the nearest bear, and backed up a step. “This is their home. They live here.”

Twilight bumped up against Applejack, who had begun backing away from the bears behind them. They were completely surrounded. Twilight took a deep breath, and looked to her friends. They both gave her a resolute nod.

“All right, girls. As soon as I...”

A deep roar reverberated through the caves, but this one was different. It was less guttural, and more... predatory. The bears, judging by their reactions, found it just as unsettling:They readied themselves for battle as the new threat approached, but as it grew louder their resolve began to waver. The roar was clearer now: The grinding of an earthquake, and the hiss of cherry-red iron quenched in ice water. There was no mistaking the sound of a blazing furnace nor the scrape of scales and talons.

The bears muttered amongst each other and finally broke ranks. They fled deeper into the caves, howling the same word over and over. Twilight needed no translation to know what it meant. The three ponies huddled together as a shadow came into view on a corridor wall. The outline of a massive reptile.

The slow, steady roaring abruptly faded to a quiet, disgruntled yawn. The extreme perspective of the shadow receded, and a familiar baby dragon trudged around the corner.

“Spike?!” all three of them called out at once.

“Wouldja keep it down over there?” Spike grumbled. He ran a hand over his head and combed his spines back. “I was in the middle of the best dream ever.”

Applejack ran over and gave him a hug. “Thanks a bushel, little guy!”

He blinked at her. “For what, exactly?”

Twilight ran over to him. “I thought I left you in charge of the library! What are you doing here?!”

Spike shrugged. “I was sleeping.”

“No, I mean... before that. Think, Spike. What do you remember?”

“Okay. Let’s see. You were about to go on a balloon ride or something, and I was going to curl up in your sock drawer and sleep for a few days... but then Pinkie Pie woke me up and dragged me off somewhere. Said she had some kind of special mission for me.”

“What?!”

“She wouldn’t tell me what it was, but she said it was important. Super, duper... booper important. She threw me in a barrel, filled it with enough gems to feed me for a month, and carried it around for a while. I figured sleeping and eating was better than just sleeping. Next thing I know somebody drops me on a mountain in the middle of a thunder storm.” He plucked one of several wooden splinters out of his scales. “Found a cave to nap in. Been here ever since.”

Applejack gave her head a brisk shake. “Hold-onna-minute-there... you’ve been sleeping in the barrel since we set out, and then you were sleeping here in the caves since the balloon crashed? That was two weeks ago!”

“Yeah, I know...” Spike stretched his arms out with a metallic crick. “My nap was off to a great start until all that ruckus.”

Twilight stared at him, slack jawed.

He looked around, bored. “What’re you guys doing in a cave, anyways?”

“It’s... kind of a long story.”

Dash shrugged. “A storm wrecked the balloon and we came to the mountain looking for where it came from. The storm, I mean... not the balloon. Then I fought off some bears.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “All right, so it wasn’t a long story. Listen, Spike... we have to get out of here as quickly as possible. We need to map out the tunnels and find an exit without being seen.”

“Or we could go that-a-way for about five minutes.” Spike pointed a thumb over his shoulder. “It leads to the surface. There’s a hot springs.”

Twilight turned Spike’s head side to side, looking him over. “Spike, are you sure you’re all right? You were sealed in a barrel for a week!”

“You have no idea how boring it was... Pinkie Pie only gave me three books to read! A picture book about whales, a scrapbook of your old grocery checklists, aaand...” He took out a heavy textbook and squinted at the cover. “...A book from the Reference Encyclopedia of Ancient and Extinct Linguistics? Why would she give me this?”

Twilight hopped in place. “Is it volume seven? Please tell me it’s volume seven!”

Spike held the book up. “Yup... Syntactical Reference for the Translation of Hieroglyphs, Runic Scripts, and Semiotic Proto-Languages. Unabridged and with fully updated annotations and errata.”

“Eeeee!”Twilight snatched up the book. “Thank you, Spike! Thank you so much!”

He gave her a grumpy frown. “Again. Please. For what, exactly?”

Twilight turned to Applejack and Dash. “We need to translate those inscriptions as quickly as possible. There’s no telling how long we have until the bears to return!”

“You got half an hour,” Dash said. “I wouldn’t risk anything more than that.”

“That isn’t nearly enough time for a full analysis. If only I knew what language it was, this would go a lot quicker!” Her eyes widened. “Oh, silly me! Dash, do you still have those rubbings you made before?”

“Yeah. I only made three of them, though.” Dash took the scrolls out of her bag and handed them over. “I’m getting these back, right?”

“Probably not. But I’ll give you full credit in my report to the university.” Twilight scribbled a brief note, and bundled it up with the charcoal prints. “Spike. If you please?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Spike took the bundle and, with a puff of green flame, incinerated it. The cloud of sparkling mist streaked through the cave and out of sight. In a matter of seconds, a belch from Spike produced a neatly ribboned scroll. Spike caught it before it hit the ground, and passed it to Twilight. She popped the seal and scanned the contents of the letter.

“Brilliant... she makes it seem so obvious!” She tucked the letter away and walked down the cave. “Let’s go. I think I can have this done in half an hour.”

“That’s great,” Spike said and stumbled back the way he’d came. “Just let me know when you’re all done.”

An aura of purple sparkles lifted him into the air and carried him along. “You’re awake now... and I’m definitely going to need my number one assistant for this.”

"If we don't do something quick, she could die!"

Twilight searched through the cave network as quickly as she could, but time was limited: she paused only to examine the largest and most complex of the inscriptions, sifting for relevant and useful information.

She paced back and forth in front of their latest find, muttering to herself constantly. Spike followed alongside her to take dictation, and to occasionally search for an entry in the reference book. Applejack and Rainbow Dash rarely saw them work together like this: Twilight spoke very quickly, and yet Spike had no trouble keeping up with her train of thought.

Dash finally stood up and went over to them. “Can we hurry this up? I think we reached the half hour mark a few minutes ago.”

“Almost... almost... argh!” Twilight shook her head. “You’re right. We should go. I’ve got more than enough to think about as we walk.”

She tossed a scroll to Spike, who incinerated it in midair.

“There. I’ve sent the Princess a summary of my preliminary findings. We’ll have to wait for a response before we explore any further.”

“What sort of findings were they, anyhow?”

“These runes are a historical record left by the civilizations who lived here. I don’t have the whole story but there were all sorts of bits and pieces, including several very significant events.”

Spike hopped up on Twilight’s back and the three ponies set out. Applejack leaned over to look at Twilight’s journal.

“So after all that, do you have the slightest clue what’s going on?”

“We know the basics,” she said. “These tunnels are located underneath a huge mountain fortress that was built around a large artifact of great power. The first people to rule over it were the ursine tribe... possibly the antecedents of the bears we’ve encountered here.”

Dash’s ears perked up. “You mean they used to run this place?!”

“Maybe. Some of the inscriptions indicate they were ruled by—or enslaved by—an outsider who caused all sorts of havoc, but was eventually defeated by an unknown enemy. After that, the fortress was inhabited by a tribe of goblins.”

“Goblins?” Applejack said. “You mean, like from the old ponytales? They always seemed kinda goofy to me... I can’t imagine them conquering anyone.”

“They probably just moved into the fortress after it was abandoned. From that point on the inscriptions are all in the Goblin language. They didn’t accomplish much while they were here... Their records are mostly cooking recipes and bad jokes. After a while they were driven out of the fortress by an unspecified enemy... or they got bored and wandered off. There aren’t many records after that, but it would seem that the ancestors of the original Ursine tribe returned. They’ve been living here ever since.”

Spike belched out a puff of magical mist, and a scroll congealed from thin air. Spike caught the scroll and held it towards Twilight with a salute. “Message for you!”

Twilight skimmed the letter, then tucked it away. “Good. The princess is passing my notes on to the university... it’ll take awhile for them to correlate something useful. Until then, we move out.”

“Awwright!” Dash reared up and kicked at the air a few times. “Time to kick some bears into next Saturday!”

Applejack arched an eyebrow. “What is it with you and weekends?”

“I dunno. Whenever Saturday rolls around I always get the itch to do something... awesome.” She scratched the side of her face. “Not sure why, actually.”

“Well you’ll have to reign it in for now. We want to avoid the bears.”

Rainbow Dash frowned at her. “But the mountain! The storms! The... everything! We gotta put a stop to it! You said the fortress was built to protect something really powerful. I bet the bears are using that power to whip up a jumbo-sized batch of extra-creamy, one-hundred-percent all-natural disaster!”

“That’s probably correct,” said Twilight. “The ursine runes describe the power source as some kind of stone or obelisk, and they ascribe it with the power to create storms of incredible destructive power. The translation is a little fuzzy, though... the Ursine’s culture was heavily influenced by weather, and they use the same word for ‘storm,’ ‘nightmare,’ and ‘warfare.’ It could mean any or all of these things.”

“So lets go take care of it! It’s just an empty ruin, right? How hard could it be?”

Twilight shook her head. “If we visit the stronghold, we’ll be facing off against the bear’s entire civilization. They have superior strength, an intimate knowledge of the environment, and they even possess magic of their own. A direct confrontation would go badly for us.”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash looked at each other, shocked.

“What are we supposed to do about that?!”

“I don’t know, yet. But if we can’t settle this quietly Celestia may have no choice but to send her own cavalry.”

Dash’s voice was hushed. “Dude... war? For real?”

Twilight shook her head. “I sincerely hope not. The Ursine are powerful as individuals, but they wouldn’t stand a chance against a disciplined military... especially one with a wizard-corps and an air force. They wouldn’t last a week.”

“So we’d win?” Dash said, and quirked an eyebrow. “Then why are we so worried about doing this quietly?”

Twilight shook her head. “Celestia once told me you can never win a war... no more than you can win a hurricane. Somepony always gets hurt.”

With Spike acting as navigator, they reached the surface with no major delays. They discarded their fluorescent cloaks as soon as they hit fresh air, and Rainbow Dash’s wing-splint also came off: Her wings had recovered enough for light travel. She flew up to get a bird’s eye view, and saw several hunting Ursine parties converging around them. She cursed herself for giving away their position, but in the end it didn’t matter. The bears were consummate trackers in their home territory.

With the bears came the rain. Storms spread out ahead of them as they hunted, hindering their prey’s visibility and making the terrain treacherous and slippery. Dash caught sight of at least two hooded bears leading the charge, armed with long wooden staffs. They rushed down the mountainside at a breakneck pace. Dash’s overhead view allowed them to slip around several ambushes and Twilight’s magic repelled the first hunting party that crossed their path. Even Spike took the opportunity to throw a few small stones as he rode on Twilight’s back. In spite of their success, the enemy drew steadily closer.

They reached the rocky flatlands at the foot the mountain. Dash flew overhead and waved down at her friends. “Come on! We’re almost home free!”

“Is that so?” Applejack called out between gasps for breath. “Explain to me how being trapped in a thick jungle will make things better for us!”

“They’re too big and clumsy to follow us in there! There’s no way they can fit through the underbrush, and they won’t be able to see us!”

They galloped across the spacious forest floor, weaving between the trunks of giant redwoods. The bears leapt and bounded over the soft loam with ease. Their hooded leaders urged them on with bloodthirsty battle-cries. At last, the ponies reached the thicker foliage.

Applejack ran back and forth, searching the wall of leaves. “The deerpath! Which way to the deerpath?!”

“How should I know?!” Dash said and glanced back. “Wait-a-minute... are you girls seeing this?”

Twilight and Applejack turned around. The troop of bears were all standing in a row no more than a hundred yards away. They had stopped their pursuit. Now, they simply watched.

Applejack glanced at Twilight. “What’s goin’ on? Do they know somethin’ we don’t?”

“Maybe they don’t want to leave their territory. Maybe they don’t know how to survive in a jungle.”

Dash called out at the army. “Or maybe they know what’s good for them! Is that it? Huh? I bet it is! That’ll teach you to clash with the Dash!”

“I don’t think it’s you they’re afraid of, sugarcube. Let’s just get out of here while we still can.”

“Not afraid of me? Well, they oughta be.” Dash turned back, but paused as a twinkle caught her eye. “Is that...?”

“Dash? What are you doing?”

They watched as Dash rummaged through some of the higher branches. She returned with a stick figure made of twigs and twine, with a quartz crystal suspended within. Dash examined it, then peered back at the bears.

“I get it now... they’re afraid of these things!”

“Hey, there,” Applejack said, “let’s not do anything hasty. Don’t play with that, okay?”

Dash paused for a moment. She then thrust the figure out towards the bears. “Ah-boogidy-booga-boo!”

The savage army flinched back several steps.

Dash cackled in delight and kicked her legs in midair. “Oh, this is priceless! This is just too rich! The big bad bears are afraid of some tiny little arts’n’crafts!”

“Dash!” Applejack shouted. “This is no time for games! Let’s just get while the goin’s good!”

“Aw, fine then. Have it your way.”

Dash hovered up and over the lowest layer of brush, watching as her friends picked their way through. The bears glowered at them in silent rage.

Dash spun around and pulled her mouth wide open, dangling her tongue back and forth. “Blaaabda-bla-bla-blaaa!” She spun around and spanked her flank in their general direction.

The leader of the bears roared with fresh fury and charged towards them. The others gave him a startled look but followed dutifully in his wake.

“Whuh-oh!” Dash zipped over the treetops and called down. “Might wanna hurry, girls!”

“What did you do?” shouted Applejack. “Oh sweet Celestia’s mane! What did you do!?”

“Nothing! I’ll tell you later! It’ll be hilarious, I swear!”

“It’s not hilarious now, Dash! Not even remotely!”

They scrambled through the dense jungle. They could barely see each other through the leaves, and the branches and shrubs tripped and tangled their every step. Dash stared in shock as the bears began crashing through the forest, tearing through the branches and vines easily. She looked down at her friends, soon to be overrun. Twilight was caught on a vine and Applejack was struggling to pull her free. It was only a matter of seconds.

What have I done...?

Dash rushed over to pull at the vines. “I’m sorry, you guys... this is all my fault.”

“Don’t you dare blame yourself,” said Applejack. “Not for this. Those monsters were howling for blood anyways.”

“I just wish there was something I could—” Dash flinched at a nearby roar.

Twilight fixed her with a strong gaze. “Dash. You can carry us to safety, can’t you?”

“But I can only carry one of...” Dash’s face froze in shock. Tears dribbled from the corners of her eyes. “Oh, no! Don’t make me choose! You... you can’t make me!”

Applejack nodded to her. “You won’t have to chose, Dash.”

“Right,” Twilight said. “Save me.”

“No way, no how, Twi. She’s saving you, and that’s... wait. What?”

Twilight leaned close and whispered in Applejack’s ear. “And then here’s what you’re going to do...”

Rainbow Dash hauled Twilight into the air, flapping as hard as she could. Her wings were still bruised from her previous battle... the injury hadn’t bothered her when she’d been flying solo but now, with the extra weight, her wings burned with effort. They finally reached a nearby redwood and Dash deposited Twilight on one of the massive, shelf-like branches. They could see through the layered forest for a mile in every direction: the canopy above obscured the sky, but a few breaks allowed shafts of dim, golden light to fall through. Dusk was drawing near.

Dash wiped her brow. “Wasn’t sure I’d make it.”

“Oh my goodness, look!” Twilight pointed at the crook where the giant tree branch met with the central trunk. “There’s a little deposit of dirt up here with little trees growing in it! It’s like a tiny little forest!”

“Twilight? We flew up here in plain view. Aren’t they gonna know exactly where we are?”

“Can you see what the bears are doing?”

Dash squinted at the ground below. “Looks like they forgot all about Applejack. They’re just oh-mi-gosh they’re climbing the tree you never told me they could climb trees why didn’t you tell me that!”

“How far up are they?”

Rainbow Dash glared at her. “How can you be so dang cool about this?!”

“Seriously, Dash. I have a plan. How high up are they?”

“Not very, but they’re gaining fast! You want me to move you to another tree? Maybe give Applejack time to run away?”

“She isn’t running at all. She’s sticking to the plan.” Twilight laid down on the branches. “Rest up a bit and tell me when they’re all at least halfway up.”

Dash stared down the trunk of the tree, occasionally glancing back at Twilight.

“Okay... okay, they’re getting close. Really close.”

“Good! Now, take me back to ground level.”

Dash and Twilight hooked their forelegs together and sailed off the branch, gently gliding down. As soon as they did, Applejack bolted out of the brush and ran for the base of the tree.

“All right then, you varmints! Time to see if this apple... can handle those apples!”

She spun around at the last moment and slammed her hind hooves against the trunk. The gargantuan redwood was no ordinary tree... but Applejack was no ordinary pony. She’d been bucking apples out of trees for more than half a lifetime, and long years of farmwork surged through her every muscle. Not a single iota of her strength went to waste, and when the kick connected it sent a jolt clear through her bones and her vision greyed from the force of the impact.

She shook her head and looked straight up. The whole tree was wavering back and forth. Or maybe... maybe she was just extremely dizzy. One thing was certain: the bear’s grip had held.

Applejack reared up and kicked the tree again. And again, and again, with a steady, regular rhythm. The shift was barely noticeable at first but gradually built up. The tree began swaying back and forth, and a cloud of leaves and debris shook free. With one final kick, the bears lost their grip and fell to the ground.

“Yeeee-haw!” Applejack reared up on her hind legs but fell to the ground in a heap. Her eyes wobbled in different directions. “Ooh... kay then. I think I mighta broke something.”

A heavy impact startled her to alertness, and she scrambled upright and stumbled away. The bears plummeted to the ground around her, roaring in pain from the impact. A few managed to stand for a few seconds before promptly collapsing.

“Jeez! Think you overdid it a bit?” Rainbow Dash swept down and picked her up. “Come on! I dropped Twilight right next to Spike. I’ll take you to them.”

“Sounds great... but could you leave off all the loop-de-loops and barrel-rolls?”

“I’m not doing any—” Dash glanced down at Applejack’s wobbly eyes. “Nevermind. Let’s get you out of here.”

“We made it, right? The plan worked?”

Dash looked back over her shoulder. A second group of bears, twice as large, were charging towards their injured kin.

“The plan worked great. But I don’t think we’re outta the woods yet.”

They pushed through the underbrush as swiftly as they could. Dusk fell, and the forest was soon plunged into darkness. Spike’s claws snipped through the vines with ease but he could only be in one place at a time. It wasn’t long before the sound of enraged roars and snapping trees began to close in from behind them.

Twilight paused in a clearing and assessed the situation. She was in good health herself but the magic of this place was wild and untamed: there was no telling how it might warp or distort her spells. Applejack still hadn’t recovered from her biggest buck to date, and there was a sharp pain in her hind leg... no way to know if it was a harmless sprain or a hairline fracture. Rainbow Dash’s bruised wings were no better: her aerial weightlifting had aggravated the injury.

Twilight watched as Applejack and Dash stumbled along, trembling from the stress and exhaustion of the last two weeks. Twilight summoned a trace of magic and cast a purple light over their surroundings.

“Spike. I need you to take one last letter for us.”

He wrung his claws. “You’re not really serious, are you? We’ll get out of this, won’t we?”

Twilight’s face was serene. “The princess needs to know what happened here. Regardless of what happens to us.”

The quill trembled in Spike’s hand. “You know, we could, ah... ask the Princess for help. Maybe.”

“If she can do anything to help us, she will. If not, then that’s the way it goes.”

Spike swallowed. “That’s the way it goes?”

She smiled at him. “We all have to go someday, don’t we?”

Spike’s eyes hardened. He held out his hands and his tiny, razor-sharp claws gleamed in the light of her horn. “Not this day.” He stepped forward with the faint but genuine air of a reptilian predator.

Twilight moved to pull him back, but hesitated. “Did you hear that...?”

Spike blinked. “Hear what?”

They stood there, perfectly still and silent. The only sound was the snapping of trampled trees.

“Stay back,” she said, “I think there’s something in the woods.”

“Oh, there’s something in the woods all right! A dragon who had his nap interrupted!”

“I’m serious, Spike. Stay back!”

Spike stamped his foot. “But I can’t stay back now! Not after I used the line!”

“The line...?”

“Yeah. You said, ‘we all have to go someday.’ And then I said... ‘not this day.’ It’s like, the best line ever!” He bounced on his toes, clenching and unclenching his tiny fists. “You gotta let me at ’em!”

Twilight scanned the forest, in spite of the obscuring leaves and encroaching nightfall. The roaring continued, but there were also sounds of conflict.

“Spike. Stay on my back.”

He hopped onto her and held on tight. Twilight crept forward, leaving her two exhausted friends behind her. There was a rush of air as something charged through the branches to her left.

What was that? Is there something else in the forest?

Spike let out a squeal of terror and grabbed her mane. She turned and saw one of the bears directly next to them. It wasn’t flesh and blood at all, but a tree in the shape of a bear: its claws were curved thorns and its shaggy coat was white moss.

Spike took a short breath. “Okay. That? Is just creepy.”

Twilight stared at the shape. There wasn’t a trace of magic about it. It was a normal, healthy tree. The heavy hoofbeats churned past again, and another rush of air buffeted them. There was a shuddering impact and one of the bears cried out in pain.

“Okay,” Spike said, “I guess we don’t have to follow up on ‘the line’ after all. Back to Ponyville for strawberry-wheatgrass smoothies?”

Twilight moved forward. “We have to see what’s going on. We have to find out.” She knew that wasn’t true. Not entirely.

The shadow rushed past them again and again, with a storm of heavy hoofbeats. Even with Twilight’s magical light, they saw only brief snatches of silhouettes. Whatever it was, it galloped through the jungle at full speed.

They came across a few more incapacitated bears: One was wracked by violent seizures, and another was aged and grey, decrepit to the point of frailty. Another had been turned to stone. All without the slightest trace of spellcraft... or at least, no spellcraft that Twilight knew of... which didn’t leave much unknown. The bear’s battle cries gave way to terrified screams, receding into the distance.

Twilight came to a small clearing and saw a clear silhouette of the shadowy menace: a massive stallion stampeding through the dense jungle bush unhindered. It seemed to have a second torso, complete with two slender arms and a smaller head of its own. The arms whirled a long wooden shaft capped with an ugly bludgeon. Despite the shadowy creature’s enormous size, the bears were larger still.

The monstrous stallion charged back and forth between its foes, refusing to be outflanked. It was swift for its size and whirled its polearm with alarming ease and grace: the bludgeoned end caught one of the bears on the chin and sent it flying backwards. Without delay it whirled around and jabbed at a second foe behind it, and the slight tap sent the bear crashing to the ground. The shadow hurled a small object to the ground and a massive oak tree sprang from the earth: it reached full grown height in seconds, with an explosive force that knocked several attackers high into the air. The figure thrust both hands out and a horde of giant insects filled the air. Those caught in the buzzing swarm clutched at their necks and faces. The bears charged the lone shadow, wave after wave, only to be cast aside one at a time.

“It’s all so horrible!” Spike said, “I don’t think I want either side to win!”

Twilight spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ve seen enough. Let’s get out of here before—”

Spike reached out in a panic. “Look out behind you!”

The shadow beast’s upper body spun around to look at Spike, rendering his warning less than useless. One of the bears lashed out with its claws and tore the shadowy creature’s upper-half clean off. There was a piercing scream and a rumbling neigh, and the headless lower body charged off in a wild panic.

Spike clamped both hands over his mouth. “I’m gonna be sick!”

“It’s not a monster at all!” Twilight said as she bolted ahead. “It was a pony carrying a rider!”

She charged into the fray as a hooded bear closed in for the kill. The slender rider shot to its feet and whirled its polearm with a flourish, but the bear swung its staff out and knocked the tiny foe through the air.

Twilight’s horn shimmered and an aura of sparkles tugged at the bear’s arm and hurled him off balance. When the bear recovered, he aimed his staff at Twilight and launched a jagged spear of lightning at her. Lightning: one of two fears nearly all ponies shared. Twilight hurled herself to the ground in terror and the lance of blue fire streaked just overhead, singing her mane. She felt an icy shiver as the bear aimed his staff at her, crackling with energy.

The small rider spun its polearm and knocked the bear’s staff up several degrees, and the lightning sailed harmlessly over Twilight’s head. The polearm continued to spin and—with an elegant economy of motion—struck the bear squarely under the chin. The bear’s body disintegrated—unraveled—from the head down, reduced to a shower of little wet blobs. A cascade of frogs and toads scattered over half the clearing and began hopping away, filling the night air with a chorus of peeps and croaks. Except for the staff and a few bits of tattered cloth, there was nothing left of the bear.

Twilight stared, aghast. The slender figure stood still for awhile, then stumbled a few steps and leaned on the haft of its polearm.

“Ah... excuse me! Are you all right?”

The figure let go of the polearm and collapsed on the muddy ground. Twilight took a step forward, hesitated, then rushed close. The figure wore a hooded cloak that obscured her completely. Her ‘polearm’ was nothing but a broom: a crooked wooden shaft with dry branches bundled to one end.

Twilight gently pulled the hood aside, intending to check for vitals, but gasped in shock as she caught sight of her face.

“Twi? Are you there, Twi?” Applejack stepped into the clearing and glanced about. “Twilight, what happened here?”

“I don’t... know...” Twilight took a breath and steadied her voice. “We need to take her somewhere safe. There’s no time to explain.”

Applejack rushed over. “Someone’s hurt? How did you... oh mercy!” She recoiled as she looked under the hood.

“Here,” Twilight said and tossed a raincloak at her. “Take this and build a stretcher. I don’t trust my magic right now so we’ll have to carry her between us.”

Applejack rushed off, brushing past Rainbow Dash. “S’cuse me!”

Dash glanced back at her as she walked to Twilight. “Sooo... what the heck happened here?”

“I don’t know. Do you remember the sod house we came across?”

“Sure I do. What about it?”

“Do you think you could find it again?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard. If we can find the deer path, it’ll lead us right to it.” Dash tilted her head. “Why?”

“We need to take her home as soon as possible.”

“Home?” Dash looked at the lifeless figure on the ground. “You mean that was her home? What’s going on here?”

Applejack came back with a pair of sturdy sticks and began tying the raincoat between them. “Twilight, you’ll have to use your magic to lift her onto the litter. We’ll have to be extremely careful as we walk, too: If we trip, the whole thing could tip over.”

“Lift who?” Dash glanced between the two of them. She went over and looked under the hood, but recoiled with a gasp. “What is it?!”

“She’s hurt!” Twilight snapped. “She fought off a dozen bears all by herself and one of them took a swipe at her. If we don’t do something quick, she could die!”

“A dozen...?! But she’s tiny! How could she do that?” Dash stamped a hoof. “She must be some kind of monster! Look at her, she has to be!”

Twilight concentrated, and a field of glittering sparkles lifted the injured stranger onto the stretcher. Twilight and Applejack knelt at each end of it, front to back, and looped the supports over their backs.

“On three,” said Applejack. “One... two... three.”

They stood up together, in the same seamless motion. She felt almost weightless. They kept their gait exceptionally smooth and the litter barely jostled at all.

Twilight looked up at Dash. “We need you to lead us back to the hut. Pick the safest route.”

“We can’t just... what if... but you don’t know anything about it!”

“Her, Dash! She’s a her, and she needs help! Nothing else matters!”

Spike rushed ahead and bared his claws. “I’ll try and cut a path through the vines. Every little bit counts, right?”

Dash flew in front of them and stamped a hoof against the mossy soil. “Just because she fought off the bears doesn’t mean she’s our friend! What if she tries to hurt us?”

Twilight ignore the question and looked at Applejack. “Could you find the sod hut?”

She nodded. “I remember a triangle of trees where we came out of the brush. If we can find that and head west, we’ll—”

“Aaargh!” Dash hovered up and pointed at the edge of the clearing. “It’s this way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

They followed after, with Spike slowly but surely clearing the way. The strange, slender girl gave a quiet moan and one of her arms fell limp to the side. Applejack gasped at the sight of her hand... she had five digits, all sleek and spidery, and her skin was pink and hairless as a pig’s hide.

“Applejack! Steady up!”

She resumed her cautious pace, trying not to stare. “Twi? What is she? Really?”

They carried on in silence.

"Mother taught me everything she knows."

They arrived at the sod hut without incident. There, waiting in the open-air stables, was a massive stallion with a shaggy olive-colored coat and mane. It was too dark to make out his appearance but Twilight recognized him from before: he’d been the one carrying the girl into battle. He turned to give them a sedate look but did nothing to interfere.

“Spike, open the door. We’re taking her straight to the bed.”

“You got it!”

He opened the latch and threw the door open. Twilight and Applejack ducked down through the door and navigated the cluttered interior, tripping over chairs and boxes. Spike tossed the heap of laundry off of the bed and onto the floor, and they laid the stretcher directly on the mattress. Twilight immediately opened the figure’s cloak. She was a frail little thing, with pale, cream-colored skin. There was a lithe look about her... elegant.

The garment she wore under the cloak wasn’t merely a dress, but a full-length ball gown, black and grey. Fancy ruffles ran along her shoulders and cuffs and her ankle-length skirt was plaited in layers and trimmed with lace. She was wearing a bodice, a corset, and at least three petticoats. Twilight recognized a few of the garments from her conversations with Rarity. She ran a hoof along the ruffled sleeve. Sure enough, it was silk.

The ensemble was extravagantly styled, but faded and decrepit. The silk garments were water stained and the rest of the outfit had several layers of dirt or dust ground into it. There were tiny rips and tears all over, and some of the lace seemed to be covered with cobwebs... though it might have been an intentional element of the design. There was no major damage, but the entire outfit was faded. Worn. Neglected.

Twilight tugged off one of the girl’s fingerless elbow-length opera gloves and nudged her nose against the bare wrist. As alien as the limb was, there was a recognizable pulse. Twilight pulled the hood back and examined her head. Her face was narrow and pale, and the only blemish was a single black dot on her cheek. Her hair was jet black: tresses framed each side of her face, curving inward to sharp points like a pair of fangs. Her bangs had been trimmed in a downward point like a widow’s peak. Twilight gently opened one of her eyes: it was steel grey.

Applejack leaned closer. “My lawsey... she looks like a month-old weddin’ cake.”

Twilight straightened up. “Her pulse is strong and there’s no sign of trauma to the neck. She doesn’t seem to be wounded. She was probably just knocked down.”

Rainbow Dash leaned over her shoulder. “Great. So. Can we leave now?”

“We can’t just abandon her.”

“Why not? That’s exactly what we can do.”

“She needs help!”

Dash frowned at her. “You don’t know that! You don’t know a single thing about her! You can’t even guess what sort of food she eats or what medicine she needs. Wild beasts are nothing like civilized animals.”

“She’s not a beast!” snapped Twilight. “She’s a person and she needs help!”

“Would you take a look at this place?” Dash waved at the filthy interior of the sagging, decrepit hut. “She’s probably spent her whole life in this monster-infested jungle. You’d have to be tough as a box of bricks to survive here. I guaranteeshe can take care of herself.”

“What about tall, dark and shaggy out there?” Applejack said, pointing out a window. “Seems like he lives here too. Maybe he takes care of her.”

Twilight turned back to the unconscious girl. “The storms came from this part of the Everfree Forest. They represent a new threat. What if the bears are new as well? What if she’s in danger?”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “If that’s so, the best thing is to stop the bears ourselves. Which is exactly what we were going to do anyways. This changes nothing.”

Twilight turned to Applejack, imploring.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno... it does seem like we’ve meddled enough as it is. And Dash is right. Giving her the wrong food or medicine will do more harm than good. But don’t we owe her an answer? Couldn’t we at least say hello before we say goodbye?”

Dash shook her head. “You’re still treating her like a helpless little critter. She fought off a whole troop of bears, didn’t she?”

Applejack turned to Twilight. “You were the only one who saw it. What do you think? How dangerous is she, really?”

She pawed at the floor. “I’m... pretty sure... she knows magic. Sort of.”

Applejack and Dash glanced at each other, then back to Twilight. “Sort of?”

“I never saw her cast any spells, but she must have used magic to fight off the Ursine warriors. There were things she did that couldn’t have been done any other way.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“...She fought them off with just a broom.”

Applejack shrugged. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit. I’ve seen granny Smith beat a stallion silly for trouble-makin’, and she had nothing but a walking cane.”

Dash nodded. “She’s mean with that thing, isn’t she?”

“This was different. She... well...” Twilight bit her lower lip. “When her broom struck the bear, it somehow transmogrified him into a horde of amphibians.”

They stared at her in disbelief.

“I know it sounds silly. There’s no such thing as a ‘turn-people-into-frogs’ spell, but that’s what I saw. Maybe it was an illusion, or some kind of ‘waking-nightmare’ spell. But that would still be powerful magic.”

Applejack glanced at the exit. “You know, I think I’m with Dash on this one. We should probably skedaddle.”

Twilight set her jaw. “We can’t just leave now. We’ve involved ourselves too much to just walk away. She’s almost certain to know we did something. We at least owe her an explanation for what’s going on.”

“Gee, really?” Dash hovered as high as the ceiling would allow and glared down at her. “Because, y’know, I’d love to hear that explanation myself right about now. It was starting to seem like we don’t have a clue what’s going on here!”

A piercing shriek stunned them all. The girl sat bolt upright and scrambled back against the wall.

“Roadapples!” Applejack cried, flinching away. “Okay, there’s nothing to be—”

The girl scuttled sideways, hugging the wall. She let out a series of short, piercing screams and her wild eyes locked on them constantly. She blundered into some shelves and sent a whole set of cookware clattering to the floor. She stumbled through a curtain and tore it down from the ceiling.

Twilight stepped forward, slowly, without any sudden movements. “It’s okay, we’re here to help! It’s okay!”

The girl frantically reached for the table beside her and knocked over several mason jars. She snatched one up and hurled it at them.

“Whoa there!” Applejack sidestepped the jar, and the two that followed. The last jar broke apart and splashed the earthen floor with a sizzling green liquid.

“No-no-no, wait wait wait!” Twilight said. “We only want to... okay. Can you understand me? Can you say something? We can work on the language barrier if we just calm down and cooperate!”

The girl continued to shriek like a feral beast. She tossed a table on it’s side and hid behind it, hurling crude little forks and butter knives at them. When she ran out of cutlery she skittered along the floor on all fours and threw open an iron-banded strongbox.

“That’s it,” Dash said and marched forward. “This diplomacy thing is getting us nowhere. Time for some oh wow that’s... a very large...”

The girl gripped a heavy iron blade in both hands and pointed it directly at Dash’s nose. Most of it was rusty and dented, but the cutting edge gleamed like polished silver. The girl’s breath was short and sharp and her eyes twitched about the room.

There was a moment of silence.

Dash leaned close to Applejack and whispered “See? She lives in a jungle, and she has a machete.”

“Is that what that is?” Applejack said. “It’s bigger than she is!”

“Who... who are you?” the girl whispered.

“We share a language!” Twilight smiled at her. “Hello there! My name is Twilight Sparkle, and these are my—”

The girl darted forward and swiped her blade out, cutting the air with a ringing whistle. Twilight froze as the last quarter inch of her mane drifted down in front of her eyes.

“What. Are you doing. In my home.”

Twilight backed away. Her voice was flat and matter of factly. “We found your home earlier by accident. You weren’t here. We went into the forest and found you, today, injured. We carried you back here. We only wanted to help.”

“I don’t want your help. I don’t need your help.”

“Toldja so,” whispered Dash.

“Shush!” hissed Twilight. She took a moment to recompose herself. “I am very sorry we intruded on your privacy. We will leave you alone if you wish. We have our own business in the mountains, but after that is concluded we’ll—”

“Get out of my house.”

“All right. We didn’t mean to—”

“Out. Out! Out!” She swiped the machete through the air with a faint ringing sound.

“Okay! We’re going! We’re going.”

Applejack and Twilight backed away, moving towards the door.

Dash followed after them, but hesitated at the door. She glanced back at the girl. “Hey, were you fighting the bears earlier? Is that how you got hurt?”

“Dash!”hissed Applejack. “We’re not welcome here!”

“Is it true you hit a bear so hard he turned into a bunch of frogs? That’s pretty hardcore, isn’t it? I bet you can kick all kinds of flank.”

“It’s not my fault,” the girl said. “They started it. It’s not my fault.”

Dash nodded. “I totally understand... you gotta protect your home, right? You can’t let people just stomp all over your home and hurt your loved ones. I know a thing or two about loyalty.”

The girl said nothing. Her bottom lip trembled.

“Does anyone else live here?” Dash slowly walked towards the girl. “Is that what you’re fighting for? Your home and loved ones?”

“It’s my mother’s house,” she said, still pointing the machete at Dash’s neck. “She’s away.”

“That’s a shame. But to be honest, you seem like a pretty tough cookie yourself. I bet you could fight those bears off all by yourself if you had to. I mean, if you were properly armed.” Dash stepped closer, until the point of the blade tickled the hair on her neck. “We both know you don’t need a silly knife to fight. You trounced those bears with just a broom... now that’s a real weapon.”

The girl glanced briefly at the other side of the room. There was a rack of brooms leaning against the far wall, all unique and handcrafted.

“I bet you’d feel a whole lot safer with a broom in your hands... wouldn’t you?” Dash nodded to the broom rack. “Go ahead and get one. We’ll wait right here. Promise.”

The girl sidled along the wall and snatched up a broom that was leaning against a table. She dropped the machete and pointed the cleaning implement at them instead.

Dash nodded to her with an exceedingly casual smile. “That’s a pretty nice broom you got there. Did you make it yourself?”

The girl’s eyes lost some of their fire. “I make everything I need. Mother taught me everything she knows.” She lowered the broom until she was holding it like an ordinary household tool.

“Do you still want us to leave? We can go, if you like.”

The girl slumped all at once and trudged to a shelf. She took out an ornate green-glass bottle and sat at a table.

The ponies watched her for a moment. They approached the table politely, but the girl didn’t respond. She busied herself with a small set of silverware.

Twilight cleared her throat. “So. Miss...?”

“Absinthe,” she said. Her voice was hushed.

“Miss Absinthe? That’s... an uncommon name.”

The girl held up the glass bottle. “Absinthe.”

Twilight stared at the bottle. “Oh... my. Goodness.”

The girl took out a flat silver spoon with ornate holes and grooves. The holes formed the symbols for alchemical plants... wormwood. Anise. Fennel.

The girl nodded to her. “Absinthe?

“Ah... I know what it is, yes.”

“I meant, do you want some absinthe.”

Twilight stared into her steel grey eyes.

“No. Thank you. But I saw a kettle over there, earlier. Do you have any tea?”

“...With absinthe?”

“No. Just tea. If you please.”

The girl stood up, set a kettle in the fireplace, and returned to the table.

Applejack stared at the strange green bottle. She watched as the girl poured an equally green liquid into her cup and lifted a sugar lump with the silver spoon.

Applejack eyed the cup. “Ah... what are you having?”

“Absinthe.”

“What does it taste like...?”

The girl shrugged. “Like absinthe.”

The kettle let off a harsh whistle, and the girl went to a cupboard and took out a box of loose tea.

Twilight leaned close to Applejack and whispered in her ear. “It’s extremely toxic. And extremely illegal. Just stick with the tea.”

The girl came back with the kettle, and three teacups. She poured them each a drink without filtering the ground up leaves. Twilight lifted her cup with her magic, and took a sip. Dash ignored her cup, while Applejack fumbled with her own... instead of a proper mouth-grip, it had a vertical handle designed exclusively for fingers.

Twilight leaned back with a sigh. “This is amazing! What’s in it?”

“Absinthe.”

Twilight spit a mouthful of liquid onto the table.

The girl looked at her, still bland as dishwater. “It was a joke.”

“Oh... right. Sorry.” Twilight tried to wipe up the mess on the table.

“It’s a Ceylon Lumbini blend,” the girl said. “I grow it in the yard. You can trade for some, if you like.”

“That would be wonderful,” said Twilight, “but we don’t really have any trade goods with us.”

Dash leaned her forelegs on the table. “So why do you have an axe if you don’t have any firewood?”

Applejack frowned at her. “Let’s not be rude, now. We’re guests.”

The girl ignored Applejack. “I burn wood in the winter. When it is winter, I chop firewood. It is not winter. For cooking and brewing, I use coal.”

“For cooking and...brewing? What sort of brewing?”

“Elixirs. Lotions. Teas. I primarily work with herbs and mushrooms.”

“You’re an alchemist? That’s a very rare talent where we come from. It must be interesting!”

The girl stared at Twilight’s teacup as it danced through the air, seemingly on its own. The magical sparkles of light reflected in the girl’s eyes. “Yes... very interesting. Very exciting.”

Applejack cleared her throat, daintily. “So, how about your neighbors in the mountain range? Are they a regular problem for you?”

“The Drizzly Bears often cause trouble when mother is away. They hate and fear mother in equal measure. I have learned to safeguard my home when she is absent. They, in turn, are learning to fear me.” She stirred the green liquid in her cup. “They do not learn as quickly as I do.”

Applejack glanced at Twilight. “You know, maybe we shouldwork together on this. We could at least get some information about what’s going on... what the bears want.”

The girl stared at them, blankly. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

“Well,” said Applejack, “our village was hit pretty hard by a bunch of storms. We think they might be coming from around here and we’re fixin’ to put a stop to it. We’re pretty sure these... ‘Drizzly Bears’ have something to do with it.”

The girl’s delicate eyebrows furrowed slightly. “The... Millstone? That does go quite a ways back.”

Twilight tilted her head. “A millstone? The inscriptions mentioned some sort of magical obelisk: an artifact of great power. Could that be...?”

“The Millstone of Misery. Quite likely.” The girl lifted her glass and swirled the green liquid within. “If the Drizzly Bears have found a way to set it in motion once more, the situation is indeed dire. The Millstone is an engine of chaos and strife powerful enough to enshroud the whole of the realm in eternal suffering."

Dash tilted her head. “So, bad?”

“There is no good or bad. There only is.”

Dash frowned. “Bad... for us?”

The girl nodded. “My, yes.”

“This Millstone,” Twilight said, “so you know how it works? How it can be stopped?”

“I’ve never seen it myself. I know of it only through mother’s stories. I could tell you some of what I know.”

“Thank you!” Twilight said. “Anything at all would be invaluable!”

The girl sipped from her glass. “We will see what comes of this.”

Dash frowned. “Okay, there’s something I don’t get. You’re not a goblin or a monkey, and you’re definitelynot any kind of pony. So what are you?”

“Anastasia,” She said and set her empty glass down. “Anastasia Magdalene.”

“That’s cool,” said Dash. “Can I call you Maggie?”

She nodded. “You may.”

“Cool. But that still doesn’t tell us what you are.”

“I am a witch,” she said. “Mother taught me everything she knows.”

"What if she turns on us halfway through?"

Twilight Sparkle, Rainbow Dash and Applejack sat at a table while Maggie busied herself about the hut. The furniture, like Maggie herself, was small: even sitting upright on the floor, the ponies were at a comfortable height for table conversation. They’d huddled together hoping to discuss the situation and come up with a suitable plan, but they hadn’t talked much. They sat quietly and occasionally glanced at Maggie.

Their hostess ignored them utterly as she rummaged. She hadn’t bothered cleaning up any of the mess she’d made during her earlier panic attack, and was now kicking discarded pots and pans out of her path and stepping barefoot over broken glass and spilled jars. She kept a tight grip on her broom at all times but never once swept anything.

Dash leaned close to Twilight. “It only took you and A.J. a week to whomp up a nicer place than this.”

“Shush, you!” she whispered back. “Should we even be discussing this without her? Maybe we should—”

There was a loud crash. They turned to see Maggie standing on her tiptoes and trying to reach something on a tall shelf. She let out a frustrated grunt and swept aside several clay bowls, all of which fell to the floor and shattered.

Dash leaned close. “I think we’re on our own for this one.”

“We need her!” said Twilight. “She knows so much about the Drizzly Bears. About the Millstone, the storms, the forest... about everything.”

There was a frustrated scream as Maggie struggled to open a crusty glass jar. She slammed it against a table lid first, and finally beat it with a metal serving spoon. The jar shattered and she scooped some of its gooey contents into a mixing bowl, glass splinters and all.

“That’s great,” said Dash. “You can interview her all you like. When that’s done, we set out on our own.”

Twilight shook her head. “We could certainly ask her to share information. But if we want her expertise, we have to bring her along with us.”

Applejack nodded. “There’s a big difference between book-smarts and know-how.”

“But we don’t need her,” said Dash. “We could to do this ourselves if we had to, right?”

Twilight paused in thought. “I think so, but we don’t know how long it would take. Or how dangerous it would be. We could spend a whole week studying the runic inscriptions, and they might not even tell us what we need to know. At the very least we’d have to return to Ponyville and bring the rest of our friends. I’d feel a lot better if all six of us were together.”

Applejack leaned her chin on the table. “I’d feel a lot better if I could tell my family about all this. We were due back a week ago.”

Twilight rested a hoof on her back. “I can send a letter to the Princess and she can pass it on to Ponyville. They’ll know we’re okay.”

“Yeah. I guess we’re lucky Spike showed up after all,” said Applejack. “Hey. Where is the little tyke?”

The three of them turned to see Spike seated at a table on the other side of the hut. Maggie set a plate in front of him, then sat down with a plate and cup of her own.

Twilight gave her friends a panicked look, then she rushed across the hut and snatched Spike’s meal out of his hands. He’d scrunched his eyes shut as he’d opened his mouth, so it took him a moment to realize his hands were empty.

“Spike! You should know better than to accept food from strangers!”

Spike frowned at her, unimpressed. “Strangers? I thought you said we were trying to get on her good side.”

“I said we...” Twilight looked to Maggie and moderated her tone. “I meant that we should try make a good impression. But we don’t want to impose on your hospitality. ”

“You’re spoiling him,” said Maggie. “If you feed him nothing but gemstones you’ll rot his teeth within a year. They should be a ‘sometimes’ snack.”

“Spoiling...?” Twilight looked down at the meal she’d taken from Spike. It was a metallic crystal made of crazy, squarish spirals and right-angled ridges that had grown over each other in layers. Its surface shone with a spectrum of oily, iridescent colors.

“Bismuth...?” Twilight said. “You’re feeding a baby dragon bismuth? Do you have any idea what that could do to him!?”

Maggie looked at her, bored. “Do you?”

“Well... no. But that’s reason enough, don’t you think?”

“He’s a growing dragon. His body needs metal.”

Spike stared at the unappetizing crystal. “Are you sure it does? I mean... ugh.”

“It’s like spinach.” Maggie held up her own sandwich: rough, grainy bread packed with dark, limp greens and slimy paste. “You can tell its good for you because it tastes terrible.”

Twilight contemplated the wild and crazy crystal. “How much do you know about dragons?”

“Not much,” she said, “but I know a lot about babies. Mother taught me to be a midwife. I help animals give birth, sometimes.”

Twilight regarded her with newfound respect. “Really? That’s... wow.”

“Dragons don’t give live birth, of course. They lay eggs. But after they hatch, they have to eat metals to build up their strength. It goes into their scales and spines, their teeth and claws... even their bones and muscles.”

Spike’s eyes widened. “Really?!”

“Oh, yes. Dragons can’t grow strong without a proper diet. Eating nothing but gems will probably stunt your growth as you get older.”

“Stunt my—!?” Spike clenched his fists and his claws scratched little furrows in the table. “Ahhh-gimme-gimme-gimme!” He leapt from his seat and snatched at the metal crystal.

Twilight levitated it out of reach. “Maggie. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fill my dragon’s heads with crazy ideas.”

Maggie arched an eyebrow. “Even if they’re correct?”

Twilight straightened up. “If you can provide me with a reliable reference book about baby dragons, then I’ll believe you.”

Maggie pointed at the bookshelf. “Third shelf from the top. The red cover.”

Twilight looked at the cluttered bookshelf. “Really?”

Maggie nodded. “It’s a bestiary that lists a variety of magical animals. There’s a short chapter on dragons.”

Twilight gasped. “That would be incredibly useful! We know so little about them. Thank you so much!”

“Thanks. I wrote it myself.”

Twilight lowered her head with an exasperated sigh. “No rigorous peer review process, I assume?”

“You will simply have to read it and judge for yourself.” Maggie took the book from the shelf and brought it to Twilight. “The proof, as they say, is always in the pudding.”

Twilight watched as Maggie took her plate to a different table and sat alone. Spike jumped up and snatched the crystal out of the air and bit into it, but winced and rubbed his jaw: the crystal was undamaged.

“Ugh... maybe those gems really are rotting my teeth.”

Twilight snatched both the crystal and Spike’s ear, and dragged them both back to the table. Applejack and Rainbow Dash watched her, expectantly.

“I think...” Twilight hesitated. “No. I know she would be invaluable on this quest. And we wouldn’t be endangering her, either... she can defend herself.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” said Dash. “What if she turns on us halfway through?”

“She needs us just as much as we need her,” she said. “And besides, we can’t know what she’ll do until it actually happens. The proof really is in the pudding.”

The three friends turned to look at Maggie, sitting alone, slumped over her sandwich. They stood up and walked to her table.

“Pardon me,” said Twilight. “May we sit with you?”

Maggie stared back, her cheeks bulging with limp, leafy greens. “Whatever.”

The three ponies moved the chairs aside and sat on the floor, coming to eye level with the little witch.

Twilight gently cleared her throat. “If the Drizzly Bears are creating these storms, we need to put a stop to it. They’ve wandered all the way back to our village.”

“Not my problem,” Maggie said with her mouth full.

“Well... we were thinking...” Twilight trailed off as she saw something fall out of the sandwich: a tiny little earthworm. Another one wriggled out from between the spinach and waggled in the air. “Uh... there’s a...”

Maggie gave her a withering glare. “Do you want something from me?”

“Right. Well. You see... are you sure that sandwich is fresh?”

Maggie took another bite. “Nothing is certain.”

“Y’all excuse me,” Applejack said as she left the table. “I just need some fresh air is all.”

Twilight waited for her to leave before continuing. “So, Maggie. You mentioned earlier that the Drizzly Bears cause a lot of trouble for you.”

“When mother is away, yes. Which is almost always. But they have learned to stay out of my lands.”

“You know more about them than the three of us combined. You also know about this Millstone. What I’m saying is... we could really use your help.”

Maggie spit on the floor. “Get lost.”

“But the storms!” said Dash. “Don’t you want them to stop? And don’t you want the bears to leave you alone?”

“The bears already leave me alone because I leave them alone. If I were to invade their stronghold it would be a grave offense. As for the storms, they don’t bother me. I send them away.”

“Send them...?” Dash shot up and slammed her front hooves on the table. “You’ve been sending those storms over to Ponyville! This is all your fault!”

“I invite you into my home. I allow you to pester me with questions. I even forgive your trespassing, and this is how you repay me? By accusing me?”

“We brought you home after you got hurt! We saved your scrawny butt!”

Maggie shot to her feet and locked eyes with a pegasus six times her mass. “The bears never would have attacked me to begin with if you hadn’t antagonized them!”

“Girls!” Twilight said and gently pushed them apart. “We both need to take responsibility. We’ve both made accidents.”

Maggie slapped her hoof aside. “So what if I have? Why should I care what happens to your stupid village?”

Dash glowered at her, but Twilight pushed her back into her seat before she could speak.

“Maggie, please. We could do this ourselves, but we would greatly appreciate your help. This problem needs to be solved quickly and with a minimum of fuss.”

Maggie fell back in her chair with a frustrated sigh. “That’s your best offer? If I help you, you’ll agree to cause less trouble for me?”

“Offer?” said Twilight. “You mean... you want us to pay you for this!?”

“I’m not going to help you for nothing. I thought that would be obvious.”

“We’re not making an offer,” Twilight said, “because it’s just the way things are. If we don’t deal with it now it’ll only get worse. We could really use your help... but if you refuse to help us, we’ll be perfectly content to solve this problem without you.”

Maggie looked about the room for a moment.

“Then no. I won’t help.” Maggie pointed at the door. “Leave.”

Twilight clenched her jaw and looked about the room.

“Alright,” she said. “You win. We’ll give you... a third.”

“A... third?” Maggie said.

“Yes. One third of what we were going to be paid for the trip.”

“Twi?” Dash said. “Aren’t we—”

Twilight clopped a hoof against the table. “One third, Maggie! Take it or leave it!”

“Two thirds.”

“Half.”

There was a quiet moment. Dash’s eyes darted between them.

Maggie nodded. “Half.”

“Alright,” Twilight said, “it’ll make the expedition a loss for us, but half it is.”

“Then I will help you. But I’ll need to visit mother before I go.”

Dash tilted her head. “Didn’t you say your mother was away?”

"From home, yes. But she’s never very far. I visit her every week.”

“Of course,” said Twilight. “We’ll wait outside.”

“I should hope so. Since this is my home. Which I’ll be away from.” Maggie took her broom and went to the door. “Wait in the yard until I return.”

They watched her leave.

Rainbow Dash turned to twilight. “So... half? Of everything we were going to be paid?”

“I thought it was a reasonable offer,” she said, “given the circumstances.”

Dash nudged her shoulder. “Nice haggling. I bet A.J. would be proud!”

Twilight looked away. “I’m not so sure. It wasn’t very honest of me.”

Everyone exited the sod hut and went into the front yard where Applejack was still waiting, near the huge stallion from before. It was the first time they’d seen him in the light of day, and even with his head bowed low, he was huge: Applejack was only at eye level with his shoulder. His coat—his olive-drab coat—was shaggy and mottled. His tail looked like stringy swamp muck and his mane covered his eyes like a curtain. A gooey mix of mucus and saliva dribbled from his chin.

Applejack was standing in front of him, leaning as far back as her sense of balance would allow. She brightened up as soon as her friends emerged from the hut.

“Hey, y’all! How’d it go in there? Everything okay?”

Maggie went to the stallion. “I need to visit mother. You watch the house while I’m away. Don’t let anybody inside.”

He nuzzled her neck and she responded with a gentle pat. His runny nose didn’t seem to bother her.

“Geez,” said Dash, “whaddya feed him?”

“Grain,” Maggie said as she rummaged in the stallion’s saddlebag. “It’s a perfectly natural size for him.”

“That’s not natural,” Dash whispered. “He’s even bigger than Big Mac, and he’s a draft.”

Maggie glared at Dash. “Tarnhoof isn’t a pony, you ass. He’s a horse. A Moorland Percheron. Horses are bigger than ponies.”

“Wait a sec,” said Applejack. “Ponies are horses... aren’t we?”

“All ponies are horses. Not all horses are ponies.” Maggie took something from his saddle bag and tied it her belt. She patted Tarnhoof’s neck and looked him in the eyes. “...Try not to get flirty. I don’t like you talking to strange mares.”

They watched as Maggie walked down the flagstone path and went into the forest, barefoot.

“So,” said Dash. “Tarnhoof? That yer name?”

Tarnhoof gave a prodigious belch. When he inhaled his breath sounded like a phlegmy, gummed-up bellows.

“Yeah. So.” Dash turned to Applejack. “I’ll just wait over there if you need me.”

“Right,” said Twilight. “We’ll be just over there.”

Applejack watched them walk to the other end of the yard. She looked back at Tarnhoof.

“So, yeah. I’d better...” She chased after her friends. “Hey, wait up!”

The three friends stood together and quietly contemplated the overgrown yard. Tarnhoof remained where he was, never once speaking.

“So,” Applejack said. “she’s going to visit her mother?”

Twilight nodded. “That’s correct.”

“But didn’t she say her mother was away?”

“Away from home, yes. She might live nearby, or be out on an errand.”

“Yeah,” she said. “I guess so.”

Dash glanced around and flexed her wings. “Geez, I’ve been sitting too long. I think oughta stretch my wings for a—”

“Don’t even think about it,” said Twilight. “She’s visiting her family and deserves some privacy. And spying on her won’t make a very good impression.”

“Yeah... yeah.”

A rustle in the forest startled all three of them. Maggie emerged from the foliage and went to her front door without a word.

The three friends shared a look, then approached the door.

Twilight knocked twice. “Hello? Are you coming with us?”

There was the sound of rummaging. Eventually, Maggie emerged with a broom and a small backpack.

“Could someone carry this for me?”

Applejack smiled. “Why, I’d be happy to—”

Maggie tossed the pack haphazardly onto her back and applejack let out a strangled gasp as the unexpected weight staggered her. Maggie marched on.

Twilight caught up with her. “Did you get permission to come with us?”

“Permission?” said Maggie. “I’m not a child. I do as I please.”

“Then why did you visit her?”

“I just needed someone to talk to. She always helps me sort my thoughts.” She turned her broom around for use as a walking staff. “I also wanted to say goodbye. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll return.”

Applejack caught up with them, struggling under the tiny pack. “Don’t you fret none. We promise you’ll come home safe and sound.”

Maggie pursed her lips. “We will see what comes of this.”

They trudged through the jungle for half an hour, and reached the vast mountain range. The long row of frozen rock loomed over them, and a maelstrom of storm clouds whorled around each of the peaks.

“That’s different,” said Dash. “They weren’t doing that before.”

Maggie leaned on her broom. “The bears weren’t angry before. They make smaller storms now and then... but this is bigger."

Dash lifted her nose. “Toldja they were up to trouble.”

“I never said they weren’t,” she said. “Just that I didn’t need your help.”

“Please you two,” said Twilight. “We need to think of a plan. And this time, it’s got to be a good one.”

“Ah’m open to ideas,” said Applejack. “Maybe our friend here could—”

Maggie glared at her. “I’m not your friend!”

Applejack flinched back. “Sorry! Jeez, sorry!”

“Maggie,” said Twilight, “What would you do? How would you solve this problem?”

She pursed her lips. “I use special charms to turn the storms away from my home. I could make enough to protect Ponyville.”

Rainbow Dash flapped her wings. “That doesn’t solve anything.”

“Fine. I could make enough charms to encircle the mountain. That would keep the storms contained.”

“We don’t need lucky knick-knacks!” said Dash, “we need a real solution! We need to put these bears in a world of hurt!”

Maggie’s steel-grey eyes fixed on Dash. “I could awaken the volcano.”

They stared at her quietly for a moment.

Dash lowered to the ground. “Can you really do that...?”

Maggie looked at the mountain. “I know one way to find out.”

“No,” Twilight said, “we can’t solve this problem through force.”

“Yes we can,” said Maggie. “You’re just afraid to use enough of it.”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash watched as Twilight Sparkle considered Maggie’s suggestion. Her face went through several stages of contemplation, each tinted with a different emotion.

“Maggie,” she said at last, “would your plan work?”

“A volcanic eruption won’t damage the Millstone. It’s indestructible. But it would bury it under a river of lava... and when the lava cooled, it would be trapped under a river of rock.”

“And if someone excavated it, would they be able to use it again?”

Maggie paused to think. “They could, but it would take a hundred years to dig it up. Even longer to find it.”

“No... no.” Twilight turned to the mountain. “We need a solution that will last more than just a few centuries.”

“The Keystone,” she said. “The Millstone of Misery won’t work without the keystone. It was supposed to be lost in ancient times, but if the Millstone is active again the bears must have recovered it.”

Dash brightened up. “Then all we have to do is take it from ’em!”

“Perfect!” said Twilight. “Where can we find it?”

“Probably inside the Millstone... which is in the heart of the stronghold.”

“That does complicate things,” Twilight said. “But I’m sure we can think of something.”

"Only one more thing to take care of..."

Within an hour, they had a plan. Maggie provided them with a sack of white powder, which Rainbow Dash carried high into the sky and scattered through the clouds. The rest of them hiked up the mountainside, heading for the cave entrances they’d come across earlier. Within minutes the clouds above began to swell... not with rain, but snow. Maggie’s bag of cloud-seed, combined with Dash’s affinity for the weather, had worked perfectly.

The thick whiteout made it impossible to see, but Twilight’s cartographic skills served them well. When they arrived at the cave Rainbow Dash was waiting for them.

“Hey, girls!”

“And Spike,” Spike grumbled.

“Hey, it’s cool.” Dash rubbed her hoof against the top of his head. “You’re totally one of the girls. Like... an honorary girl.”

“Let’s just get this over with.” Spike hopped off Twilight’s back and climbed onto Dash’s. “Are you sure this will work?”

“Nothing is certain.” Maggie handed him a clay bottle sculpted in the shape of a fossilized skull. “When the time comes, pour this on your scales. Try not to drink it or get it in your eyes.”

“You got it.”

“And remember,” added Twilight. “You must wait for the signal. Not a second too early or too late.”

“I know, already. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“Well, one more time couldn’t hurt. Just don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

Maggie arched an eyebrow. “What about necessaryrisks?”

Twilight paused. She then grabbed Spike’s face by the cheeks. “This is important, but it could also be very dangerous. You come back to me, all right?”

Spike pressed his hand against her hoof. ”I can do this. I promise.”

Rainbow Dash leapt into the air and flew into the snowstorm with Spike on her back. They paused to watch as the whiteout swallowed them up and obscured them from view.

“Clock’s ticking,” Maggie said, “and we have a long walk ahead of us. I hope you know how to navigate a maze.”

Twilight nodded. “I’m a professionally trained cartographer, and I’ve gone spelunking before. I can map a cave network no problem.”

“Oh? And can you map a three-dimensional maze without the use of a compass?”

A smile crept over Twilight’s face. “Now that’s more like it!”

Twilight Sparkle, Applejack and Maggie walked through the depths of the caverns. They encountered engravings and inscriptions, just as before, but the further they went the more prevalent they became. They passed columns and pillars and walked across bridges and balconies, until the natural cave walls gave way entirely to halls and corridors.

Twilight unfurled her scroll and scanned the edges. Her ‘map’ covered no less than seven separate scrolls, linked by numerical codes. She passed the scroll back to Spike, who stowed it in her saddle bag with the rest.

“This is unbelievable,” she said. “I can understand how a natural cave system could be so large... but an artificial structure? This would have taken hundreds of years to make!”

“Thousands,” said Maggie.

“But who could have built this? The Drizzly Bears don’t have the expertise or the technology, and the Goblin tribes didn’t have the attention span.”

Maggie shrugged “Nobody built it,” she said. “It builds itself.”

“That’s highly improbable.”

“Why should it be? Forests grow on their own. Mountains form by themselves. This is just another kind of pattern.”

Twilight shook her head. “This is different. If it’s a natural phenomenon, then why does it resemble civilized architecture?”

Maggie turned to look at a nearby stone column. “Seeds grow into trees. Is that natural?”

Applejack’s attention snapped back to the present. “Sure it is!”

“And what if someone places them? What if you clear the land and plant trees in rows? Is that natural?”

“Well... there’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

Maggie arched an eyebrow. “So if you went into a wild forest and found trees growing in neat rows—all the same, with no other plants around—would that be natural?”

“Well, that would be mighty odd.”

“That’s because agriculture doesn’t exist in nature. It’s an invention of civilized folk.”

Applejack frowned at her. “Are you saying farms and orchards are wrong?”

“I don’t know,” said Maggie. “Are they?”

“But these are caves,” said Applejack. “They don’t grow.”

“Actually they do,” said Twilight, “,n a long enough time scale, that is. But that still doesn’t explain the architecture.”

Maggie paused to stroke the wall. “What if you could change what a seed becomes? Make it bear a different kind of fruit, or something other than fruit? All you’d have to do is plant it, and the rest would take care of itself...”

Applejack tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” Maggie said, and marched onward. “Nevermind.”

Applejack glanced at a nearby wall and brightened up. “Hey, that’s different!”

“Hm?” Twilight looked to where Applejack was standing. “What is it? More inscriptions?”

“Better’n that. There’s pictures here!”

Maggie looked back at her. “What?”

Twilight went over and cast her light upwards. Instead of rune-script, there were rows of illustrations... simple, crude pictures of bears. The drawings were flat and repetitive: more like diagrams than decorations.

“They’re like hieroglyphs, but much more elaborate.” Twilight moved closer. “Some of these rows are pictograms—probably a written language—but a lot of them are illustrations. This could be a chronicle of ancient Ursine society: of their everyday activities and events!”

Applejack wandered ahead, curious. “Their artists didn’t know much about art: Everything’s all the wrong size. Rarity would flip her lid if she saw this.”

Twilight followed alongside her. “It’s called ‘vertical perspective.’ It isn’t meant to be realistic. The size and placement of the figures indicates their importance. See here? Their leaders are twice as big as the others, and the laborers are tiny.”

Maggie cleared her throat. “We’re in a terrible rush, you two.”

“I know, I know... I only need a minute.” Twilight walked alongside the wall, captivated. “Carpentry, stone quarrying, pottery... this must be what their society was like long ago.”

Applejack pointed up at a section. “Look over here... there’s a bunch of bears with chisels and hammers.”

“They really did discover written language on their own! They must have been more advanced than I thought.” Twilight frowned. “...What could have happened to them?”

Maggie cleared her throat. “We. Are in. A hurry.”

Twilight turned to Maggie, but stopped when she saw Applejack: She was staring at a section of the wall ahead, perfectly still... eyes wide.

“Applejack? Is something wrong?”

“I... had a... dream...”

Twilight went to her side and peered up at the wall. There, in a position of prominence, was a massive bull... but in place of a head, it had a second torso with muscular arms and curved horns. It’s entire body was clad in armor and a legion of bears were arranged to either side of it, brandishing weapons.

Twilight stared up at the carving. “Wha—”

Maggie’s broom swept over the illustration and the stroke gouged fissures in the wall and sent a shower of stone chips to the floor. The figure was destroyed, and the surrounding inscriptions were illegible.

“Maggie! How could you!”

Maggie marched onward. “We’re going now.”

Twilight and Applejack watched her go, and shared a glance. They followed her at a distance.

Applejack leaned close with a whisper. “What was that all about?”

“I don’t know,” said Twilight, “but the figure in the inscription... it had the features of a bull.”

Applejack shivered. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“These corridors are built like a maze... a labyrinth.” Twilight looked at the wall. “What has the features of a bull and lives in a labyrinth?”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “...A minotaur?”

“Yes, but this seemed... different.”

“It’s not a problem for us now, is it? These pictures must be hundreds of years old. Thousands, maybe.”

Twilight looked up at the inscriptions as they walked. There weren’t any more depictions of bulls or cows, but there were other things... other differences. The bears were shown working with metal instead of stone. Living in houses instead of burrows. Hunting in packs instead of alone. Drawing symbols instead of pictures. Marching in rows and carrying flags. The inscriptions beyond the destroyed figure chronicled a millennia’s worth of technological advances, all in the space of a dozen meters.

Eventually, they reached the heart of the twisting labyrinth. The chaotic, random layout turned neat and orderly. They had come to the lowest level of the stronghold itself: vast aqueducts, filled with stagnant, mirror-black water. After that, the dungeons: hallways lined with prison cells, replete with iron doors and bars.

These areas were sparsely populated, but Maggie assured them that they would go unnoticed. The bears used charms and hexes to seek out intruders, but Maggie had charms of her own to keep them hidden from mystical scrying. The charms did nothing to hide them from plain sight, though: They keep to the shadows wherever possible, and darted past several patrols. The guards here weren’t particularly alert.

Maggie went to an archway and waved them inside. “Quickly now. This will take us to the roof.”

The small room turned out to be a vertical shaft that went up further than they could see.

Applejack squinted straight up. “How are we supposed to get up there? I don’t see any stairs.”

Twilight tilted her head. “Is there an elevator of some sort? A rope platform, maybe?”

“There’s a ladder.” Maggie pointed at a series of metal rungs bolted into the stone.

“A what?” Applejack stared at the rungs. “Oh, no... that’s no ladder.”

Maggie looked at the ladder, then back to them with a shrug.

“It’s too steep,” said Twilight. “We can’t climb a ladder like that. Can we find an alternate route?”

Maggie rolled her eyes and began climbing up. The rungs were sized for bears, and she had to stretch her arms to reach them.

“Maggie!” Applejack called. She glanced at the open archway behind them and lowered her voice. “Maggie, we can’t go up there!”

“Then stay behind. I don’t actually need your help anymore. I can do the rest of this myself.”

Twilight called after her. “But the bears! If you go through with the plan they’ll sound the alarm! What’ll happen to us, then?”

“Just watch me care,” she called down.

Twilight clenched her teeth and looked at her friend.

“We at least have to try,” said Applejack. She put a hoof on one of the rungs, testing the weight. “Remember the ladders in the library? We can climb those, right?”

“Those are different! They’re step-ladders!”

“Just think of those while you’re climbing these.” Applejack hooked her ankle around a rung, keeping her hoof tilted down. “Just take it one rung at a time. We’ll get there eventually.”

Twilight watched as Applejack climbed the sheer surface by hooking her front ankles on each rung. She tried to stand on the lower rungs, but her hooves slipped on the metal. She tried again, slow and cautious.

Twilight took a breath and followed after her. The climb was excruciating: after only a minute, the backs of their ankles were bruised and tender from being scraped against metal. Despite the pain, they managed to catch up with Maggie.

They reached the top and the little witch strained to open the trap door by herself, blinding them all with a burst of sunlight. They saw Maggie climb out, then heard a low growl followed by a brief scuffle. They climbed up after her and came to the top of a watch-post: a tall stone tower built into a corner of the stronghold’s outermost wall. There were stairs to each side, both leading down.

Applejack stared at a nearby bear, slumped on the ground. “Nice save, Maggie... you got him before he could raise an alarm.

“I even put him to sleep for you,” she said with a scowl. “Happy?”

Applejack smiled. “Yeah, actually.”

They heard a gasp from Twilight Sparkle, peering over the watchtower’s parapets. They went to her side and looked at the fortress below. The area enclosed within the mighty walls resembled a jumbled stone city: Houses and forts were stacked in irregular heaps and piles, and small inner walls divided the open space into courtyards and gardens. The only plants in sight were gnarled trees and prickly shrubs. There were a few hundred drizzly bears meandering through the courtyards and walkways, going about their daily business.

There, in the innermost yard, was a towering obelisk. A giant needle of black stone, rising from the center of a wide, circular disc. The outer edge of the disc was ringed with stone poles, arranged like the spokes of a wheel. Chains and harnesses hung from each shaft.

Applejack stared at the pillar. “It even looks like a millstone. Sort of.”

“Appreciated, but.” Maggie put a hand under each of their chins and tilted their heads up.

The sky above was a churning maelstrom of dark and light clouds all whirling together. It was like looking up through the eye of a hurricane... all the way up to the blue sky. There were no cloud layers: this was a single storm that reached, unbroken, throughout the entire atmosphere. This storm didn’t just cover the stronghold: it loomed over the entire mountain.

Applejack stared, slack-jawed. “It’s almost beautiful...”

“It is beautiful,” said Maggie. “It’s also going to destroy your village within a month. Along with everything else for miles.”

“But why?” whispered Twilight. “Why would they do this?”

“Why do anything? Because they can.”

Twilight shook her head and gazed down at the rest of the stronghold. There were Drizzly Bears everywhere, but only a few seemed to be patrolling. “I’m not sure about this. Something’s not right.”

“Obviously,” said Maggie. “Isn’t that why we came here in the first place?”

“No, I mean...” Twilight surveyed the population. “They don’t seem to have an army. They have hunters, but no real soldiers.

“They’re a race of warriors. Their women and children would eat you alive if given half the chance... I’ve seen it. They don’t cook their meat, and they don’t take prisoners.”

Applejack’s eyes widened. “They’re farming the weather!”

Maggie’s eyes snapped to her. “What?”

“They’re not trying to destroy anything. They’re just cultivatin’ the weather. They like rainstorms!”

Maggie set her hands on her hips. “Their reasons don’t matter. They’re harming your home to improve theirs, and they’ll never negotiate. It’s the only way.”

Applejack looked at her, then back at the stronghold below. She bit her lower lip.

Maggie turned to Twilight. “Talk some sense into her. We don’t have any time to waste.”

“We have to do this,” said Twilight. “Even if they do have good reasons this sort of change to the environment isn’t healthy or natural. The Millstone is a source of incredible power, and the Drizzly Bears are abusing it. It will surely damage the ecology... to say nothing of how it could warp the Drizzly Bear’s own society.”

“Yeah,” Applejack said, “I guess cultivatin’ the land shouldn’t harm it.”

Twilight nodded. “I’ll give the signal. Dash and Spike should be somewhere up there, and as soon as they start, we run for the millstone.”

“You got it,” Applejack leaned against the parapets, trying to spy without being seen. She stood there next to Maggie for a long, quiet moment.

Applejack slowly raised her head and looked at Maggie.

“What?” Maggie said with the usual sarcasm.

“Why... are you... helping us?”

Maggie shrugged. “You asked for my help. And I’m getting half. That’s all.”

Applejack locked eyes with the little witch. “I know you don’t care about bein’ paid, and you said you don’t care about our village... that you weren’t our friend. So why are you doing all this?”

Maggie opened her mouth and waved at nothing in particular, trying to be casual about her loss of words. Applejack’s gaze turned into a squint.

A deafening roar from above caught their attention, and they looked up at the sky as a gargantuan winged reptile burst from the underside of the cloud bank. It was covered in gnarled black plates and curving spines, and the membranes of its bat-like wings were torn and ragged.

“Behold, mortals, and despair!” The dragon roared in a deep and resonant voice. “Malarog the Terrible has come for you at last!”

“That’s the signal!” shouted Twilight. She ran for the stairs that led down. “We don’t have long!”

Applejack’s attention snapped back to the present. All three of them rushed down the treacherous stone stairs and threaded their way through the various courtyards and gardens. The Drizzly Bears ignored them completely: They were busy fleeing in terror.

“Impudent fools!” The dragon roared.“Did you truly believe my wrath would sleep forever? You have sown the bitter seeds of your own despair, and now you will reap my vengeance!”

Applejack’s pace slowed as they passed a tiny bear on the ground. It was covering its face and bawling. A larger bear scooped him up and held him tight, shielding him with her body as she ran for cover.

“Applejack! Keep up the pace!”

She snapped from her trance and chased after her friend. “Twi? I think this was a mistake! A big one!”

Twilight nodded onward. “Don’t give up hope! We’re almost there!”

They came to the main courtyard, dominated by the massive black obelisk. It wasn’t any kind of stone Applejack recognized. It’s twisted surface glistened like black glass.

“The Keystone! We need to—”

Twilight’s voice cut off as a huge weight crashed down on her: a hooded bear with an ornate metal staff. There was a burst of light, and a wave of magical force hurled the hooded bear aside.

Twilight stood her ground and lowered her head. “I’ll hold him off! You two deal with the keystone!”

Applejack stared in shock as Twilight charged the bear. Maggie gave her mane a tug. “Hurry! Help me look!”

Applejack nodded, and galloped around the obelisk’s foundation. She hadn’t realized how large it was: The circular base was thirty yards across and the narrow pillar was thirty yards high. She stared at the knobbled, thorny chunks along its surface, like chips of broken glass.

“Maggie? I don’t see any—”

One of the knobbly chunks opened up to reveal a pulsating, bloodshot eye the size of a watermelon. It twitched left and right before looking directly at her.

“Aaahh!!” Applejack reared up and scrambled backward.

“Keep searching!” Maggie shouted.

When Applejack looked back the eye was gone. She looked at Maggie and caught sight of Twilight on one of the walls behind her, fending off the hooded drizzly bear in a battle of pure magic. She couldn’t tell who was winning.

She looked up at the pillar. “I don’t see anything that looks like a key or a stone! It all looks the same!”

Maggie ran over. “I figured it wouldn’t be this easy. Come over here.”

“What? Where? Why?”

Maggie went to one of the spokes and grabbed the chains hanging down. “We need to get you into one of these harnesses!”

“What! Are you crazy!?”

“The pillar of the Millstone goes down into the earth like a drill. If we turn it backwards, it should rise up and expose the keystone!”

“A drill? Why would it even do that?!” Applejack stamped a hoof. “That’s not how a millstone works at all!”

“It’s not really a Millstone! It’s just called that!” Maggie threw her hands up. “Why are we wasting time talking about this?! Just get over here!”

“No-way no-how! We came here to stop the dang thing! Not to start it up!”

“Run, cowards!”The dragon boomed. “I am really big, really scary, and really... real! I am a dragon that is totally real, and I... hate... puppies!”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “I knew we should have given him a longer script. He won’t fool anyone for much longer!”

Twilight ran over, dizzy from exertion. “Did you... get the... thingy?”

Maggie shook her head. “We need to turn the Millstone backwards to reveal the keystone!”

Twilight nodded. “We’ll need help. I’ll call Dash and Spike down. I think the distraction has done its job.”

“You... you don’t honestly...!” Applejack pointed at Maggie. “You don’t trust her, do you!?”

Twilight rushed close and spoke softly. “You can recognize honesty when you see it. It’s your... element. Look her straight in the eyes and ask her a question. If anypony can tell if she’s lying, it’ll be you.”

Applejack swallowed, then nodded. She went to Maggie and watched as she sorted out the harness.

“Maggie?” she said. “This plan of yours... turning the Millstone, I mean. It’s not going to cause anything bad to happen, is it?”

“No. Like I said, we’ll be turning it backwards.”

“And the keystone... you’re sure it’ll come out if we turn it?”

“Nothing is certain. But I’m reasonably sure.”

Applejack stared at the chains. “And once we’re done turning you’ll let us go, right?”

Maggie turned and gave Applejack her full and undivided attention. “What are you—”

Applejack marched directly in front of her, locking eyes with her. Maggie pressed her back against the stone but didn’t break eye contact.

“This plan of yours: is it on the level? Have you lied to us?”

Maggie clenched her jaw, hesitant.

“Yes,” she said, “I have lied to you. But it was necessary. I promise this will end well, and I will explain everything later.”

Applejack squinted at her, but went to the chains. “Better suit me up, then. We don’t have long.”

Maggie clapped a harness around her neck and began attaching the chains.

Just then, the black dragon landed nearby. The gargantuan reptile was nothing but an ephemeral shell: a smattering of colored droplets suspended in the shape of a living thing. Spike climbed off Rainbow Dash and the illusion of dots mirrored his movements perfectly. When he touched the ground, the colored shell scattered and vanished.

Spike ran over. “How was I?”

Applejack smirked. “It was more convincing when you were way up high. And your ad-libbing needs work.”

“Sorry about that. I think I read the script way too fast.”

Dash went over to Twilight. “Are you gonna be okay? You look kinda woozy.”

Twilight shook her head, as if trying to wake up. “Sorry. There was a... bear.”

“Dash!” called Applejack. “We need your help to turn this thing backwards. There’s no time to waste!”

Dash eyed Maggie. “Oh really now?”

“Dash, please! If I can trust her, so can you!”

Dash rushed to her side and stood at attention as Maggie harnessed her to the spoke.

Twilight came over, still woozy. “Is there room for three?”

“No way,” said Dash. “Go lie down for awhile. We need you to be rested when we break out of here.”

“Right... right.” Twilight paused. “Hey, is there... room for... three?”

“Twilight? Are you...” Dash gasped as a thin trickle of blood dripped from Twilight’s nose. “Twilight!”

“What’s goin on back there?” called Applejack.

Maggie carefully pried Twilight’s eyelid open. She felt her pulse, but quickly pulled her hand away and shook a faint dust from her fingers. “Twilight. When you fought the shaman, did he do anything strange? Did he use any kind of powder?”

“Yeah, he... threw a bag of... something. Something itchy.”

Maggie’s voice softened. “Twilight. Go lie down for awhile. I’ll be right over.”

Applejack struggled against her harness, trying to look back. “Maggie? What’s going on? She’ll be fine, won’t she?”

Maggie kept her voice low. “The pollen of the Black Chrysanthemum. It’s the strongest poison I know of. Even a tiny pinch is enough to—”

Rainbow Dash pointed at her. “You’re a witch, aren’t you? Can’t you do something for her?”

“Yes,” she said. “I can make her... comfortable.”

Rainbow Dash and Applejack stared at her.

“Pull!” said Maggie. “Pull, or we’ll share her fate for nothing! Now is not the time to grieve!”

The two ponies shared a glance and began pulling against their chains. Their hooves skidded against the stone floor. The pillar refused to budge.

“We can’t do this!” shouted Dash. “It would take a hundred ponies to turn this thing!”

“We’re not giving up now!” said Applejack. “The sooner we finish, the sooner we can help Twilight!”

“Don’t say that! She doesn’t need help! She’ll be fine!”

Applejack smiled at her. “Of course she’ll be fine! She’s got her friends with her, doesn’t she?”

“Twilight? Twilight!” Spike’s raspy voice broke the silence. “Maggie, what’s wrong with her? She’s not breathing! Why isn’t she breathing!?”

Dash gasped. “We should be there with her!”

“We have a job to do, and we’re going to do it! She wouldn’t want us to give up!”

“But she’s all alone! We can’t let her die alone!”

“Don’t say that!”

Rainbow Dash flinched as Applejack shouted at her. Her face was clenched with anger and tears.

Another cry from Spike startled them. They’d both heard him cry before, when begging for snacks or complaining about chores. This was different. No words... only a long, ragged wail wracked with sobs.

They heaved against their chains, focusing on the impossible task before them. Anything to distract them from the raw pain in Spike’s voice.

The pillar began to turn.

Dash and Applejack lost all track of time as they heaved against their restraints. They could tell the pillar was moving, but there was no real sense of progress. No way to know how far they’d come or how much further remained.

At last they came full circle, just enough to see Twilight Sparkle lying on her side, completely limp. Spike was clutching her neck with his face buried in her mane. He was silent, but his back shuddered violently. It was odd to see her so still... she did nothing to hold or cradle him in response. Her face was utterly blank.

Maggie ran past, startling them. “There... perfect! I’ll have it out in a moment!” She scrambled to climb up the edge of the circular foundation.

Applejack stared at Twilight aghast as she called to Maggie. “Get us out of these chains this instant!”

They heard a slight grinding sound. A moment later Maggie return with a small black cube. She climbed down from the foundation and strolled past them.

“Maggie? Maggie! You promised!”

Maggie walked backwards for a moment, spreading her hands to each side. “I said I would explain everything once this was all over. It isn’t over yet. Not quite.”

“Spike! Spike, get us out of these!”

If Spike heard them, he didn’t react. Maggie tossed the cube to herself and walked towards Twilight. “Only one more thing to take care of. One more loose thread.”

Spike lifted his head from Twilight’s mane. His eyes were puffy with tears and his face was twisted in fury. “You... will... pay!” He bared his fangs and claws.

Maggie watched him for a moment. Her hand darted out and splashed them both with a plume of white powder. Twilight’s eyes snapped wide open as she gasped for breath.

Spike spun to face her. “Twilight!”

“Wha...?” Twilight’s legs twitched as she tried to stand. “I wasn’t... tardy... was I...? I got a note... from the... Princess...”

Maggie unshackled Rainbow Dash and Applejack, both of whom rushed to their fallen friend.

“Land sakes, sugarcube! Are you all right!?”

“We thought you were...!” Dash said, but caught herself. “I mean, I didn’t... think you were... I knew all along. Really.”

Maggie smacked Dash upside the head. “Don’t cheapen the moment.”

Applejack stared at Maggie. “What happened? Really?”

“She was poisoned. By me.” She held up a vial of purple dust. “The pollen of the Black Chrysanthemum induces a death-like trance. I use it as a surgical anesthetic. It really is the most potent poison I know of, but it causes no lasting harm.”

“But the... the nosebleed!”

“An artful touch, yes, but not my doing. She fought a bear. She was bound to get knocked around a bit.”

“You wanted us to think she was...! Why would you do something so horrible!?”

“The Millstone of Misery cannot be moved by physical strength alone.” Maggie looked up at the obelisk. “...Not unless its hunger is fed.”

“Moondancer? Are you...” Twilight managed to right herself, despite her wobbly knees. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it to lit class in time...”

“An astute observation,” Maggie turned and began walking away. “We have perhaps an hour before the locals come to their senses. If you wish to berate me with a moral tirade, I recommend that you do so as we walk.”

Twilight shook her head, eyes clearing. “What’s she going on about? Did we—?”

Spike slammed against her and hugged her tight. She gave him a gentle pat on the head. “Heh... glad to see you’re all right too. But we really need to—”

She grunted as Applejack and Rainbow Dash tackled her from each side in a group hug.

“Whoa! ’Kay, then... yeah. Did I miss something?”

“Yeah,” Spike said with a tearful smile. “You almost missed everything!”

They hiked back down the mountainside. They encountered no great obstacles or disasters, and the bears never sought reprisal. Despite everything that had happened, the mood was almost cheerful. The storms were gone. They were all alive and well. Everything had turned out for the best. They all chatted with each other, smiling and laughing. All but Maggie, who lagged a short distance behind.

They returned to the forest and Maggie led them back to her sod hut. Tarnhoof nuzzled her as she passed by, and she responded with an affectionate rub on the nose. The three ponies approached her together and Twilight Sparkle cleared her throat.

Maggie turned to her. “Are you still here?”

Applejack and Rainbow Dash glared at her.

Twilight stepped forward and nodded, grudgingly. “We appreciate your cooperation.”

Spike put his hands on his hips. “Bitter, much? If you don’t mean it, don’t say it.”

“After everything she put us through!?” said Dash.

“It turned out okay in the end, didn’t it? Come on. We can at least thank her.”

All three ponies grumbled and scratched at the ground.

Spike stepped forward and gave Maggie an elegant bow. “Thank you very much, Miss Magdalene. We couldn’t have done this without you.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” she said, cradling the Keystone in her arms. “Regardless, you don’t owe me anything. You did all the work... I wasn’t much more than a guide.”

“Then we helped each other.” He rose from his bow. “Neither of us could have done it alone.”

“I guess.” Maggie nodded to Twilight. “You may consider our contract fulfilled.”

“Our what-now?” said Applejack. “What’s she talking about?”

“Oh that.” Twilight shrugged. “I said that if she helped us we’d give her half of all our profits from the expedition.”

“We did this for free!” Applejack turned to Maggie. “What were you expectin’ half of, exactly?”

Maggie arched an eyebrow. “Does it matter?” she said. “Half of anything is quite substantial.”

There was a moment of awkward silence.

“So,” Twilight said, “what will you—”

Maggie hugged the Keystone tight. “You can’t have it.”

“But it’s so powerful. Shouldn’t it be locked up somewhere safe?”

Maggie set a hand on her hip. “The bears kept it in a stronghold filled with warriors, and that didn’t stop us from taking it.”

“But it’s a piece of ancient history. We could learn so much by studying it!”

“Some history is better left buried,” she said. “Look. You don’t want the bears to have it. I don’t want anyone to have it. We both go home happy.”

Applejack glowered at her. “And what are you going to do with it?”

“Bury it,” Maggie said. “The Keystone and the Millstone are each useless without the other. I cannot retake the Millstone and the Drizzly Bears will never find the Keystone. It is a stalemate that benefits all.”

Applejack stepped forward, but Twilight gently pulled her back before she could complain.

“I understand,” she said. “We appreciate your help. Really.”

Maggie looked around, self-consciously, and offered a brief curtsey of her own. “Just don’t tell anyone about me,” she said. She paused a moment to look them over. “Do you mean to embark immediately? When was the last time you slept?”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to impose.”

Maggie tilted her head. “I could make tea.”

Twilight brightened up. “Really? That would be wonderful! I think I’ll need a whole pot after the last three weeks... I’ll go start the kettle!”

Applejack watched as Twilight rushed inside. “Doesn’t take much to make her happy.”

Dash nodded to Applejack. “I’ll need to go back to Ponyville to fetch another hot-air balloon, but it won’t take long if I go in a straight line. Two days, tops.”

Maggie nodded to her. “Your companions may rest here until you return. I will see that they are fed and bathed.”

“Thanks, but... I think they can wash themselves.” Dash spread her wings but hesitated. “Hey. I guess you really did help us out back there. And it’s nice of you to let my pals stay here.”

Maggie nodded.

“Hey, maybe you could come come and visit us at Ponyville sometime!”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Don’t even go there.”

Dash sighed. “Kinda figured.”

They watched the pegasus rise over the treetops and fly out of sight. Applejack gave Maggie a stern squint.

Maggie responded with a weary look. “What is it now?”

“You said you’d lied to us. But you also said it would turn out well.”

“It did, didn’t it?”

“Yeah. But that don’t mean we approve of what you did. You coulda been a little more honest with us right from the get-go.”

Maggie looked away, oddly self-conscious. “Deeds are exalted above words.”

Applejack’s posture eased. “I guess you make your own kind of sense.”

Twilight peeked out of the hut. “Maggie? Where do you keep the—”

“It’s in a tin by the stove. You can have as much as you like.”

Twilight nodded. “Thank you! Shall I set out a cup for you, as well?”

“Not just now.” Maggie turned to look into the forest. “I need to take care of something.”

Applejack straightened up. “Oh! You need to visit your mother, don’t you? She’s probably worried sick about you. Well, we won’t keep you any longer.”

Maggie nodded and took up her broom. She walked into the forest and picked her way through the hidden paths beyond. Applejack watched her for a moment, then went into the hut with her friends.

Spike peered around the corner of a tree and watched Maggie walk into the forest, then waited until Applejack was inside the hut. Unseen, he followed Maggie into the forest.

All right, Spike. You’re just going to walk up to her and apologize. I mean, it’s not every day a dragon bares his teeth and claws at you. You probably scared the daylights out of her!

He ran through the underbrush with ease, pulling the vines and branches aside and snapping them with his tiny talons. He couldn’t see anything, but she was easy to follow... she had a weird smell that stood out to him. It wasn’t a bad smell—not a really bad smell—just weird.

He came to a clearing and ducked back under cover: her trail led to a small lake with a sandy beach. There was a tiny island in the middle of the water—just the top of a hill, really, with a single large tree on it.

She said she was visiting her mother... this must be where they meet.

Spike scanned the area and saw Maggie walking into the lake. It barely came up to her knees. She reached the island and sat on the bank with her toes in the water.

Spike crouched at the forest’s edge for half an hour, watching and waiting. No-one came. Nothing happened. She just sat there, hugging her knees.

Half an hour later, Spike followed her back to the hut and waited a minute before entering. Applejack and Twilight were sitting together, talking over tea. Maggie was tending the oven by herself.

Spike went to the table and pulled up a chair. “Hey. ’Sup?”

“Just reviewing my notes,” said Twilight. She nodded to the heap of scrolls and notebooks laid out on the table. “I’m still trying to assemble everything... I don’t suppose my number-one assistant could help me out?”

Spike shook his head. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to unwind for a while. Gotta relax my brain... thinky... stuff.”

“Somethin’ wrong?” said Applejack. “You always say alphabetizin’ things helps you relax.”

“Yeah, I know. Just not right now.”

Maggie stood. “I have to go chop some firewood. I promised Dash you’d all get a hot bath.”

“That’d be right decent of you,” Applejack said. “We really appreciate all this trouble you’re going to. Is there anything we can do to return the favour?”
“Yes,” she said as she shouldered her axe. “Leave.”

They watched her exit the sod hut.

Applejack sighed. “Well, she certainly prefers her privacy.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Spike. “I don’t think she’s happy here. Not at all.”

“She’s got her family, doesn’t she? She visits her mother.”

Spike looked away. “Yeah... sure.”

Rainbow Dash returned the next day with a fully functional balloon packed with fresh supplies, as well as everything she’d salvaged from their makeshift shelter. Maggie followed her guests to the balloon, but said nothing as they prepared to cast off. She waved goodbye as if it was a bothersome chore.

“Hey!” Spike called down. “You totally have to visit Ponyville sometime!”

“Don’t you threaten me!” she called back.

“No, seriously! Promise to visit? Even just once?”

“You’re inviting a witch into your village? You might want to think twice about that.”

“But you’re a good witch!”

“There are no good witches.” Maggie set her hands on her hips. “Nor are there bad ones. There are only witches.”

“Even witches need friends, don’t they?” Spike waved one last time as they lifted over the treetops. “You should make some friends, Maggie! You deserve some!”

Maggie stared up at them as they left. Spike could swear he saw her wave back... a feeble, half-conscious gesture.

Twilight rubbed Spike on the head. “Something tells me she’s not going to take you up on your offer.”

Spike shrugged. “Give her a few days. She might change her mind.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?”

“You never appreciate something until it goes away.” Spike sat down and leaned against Twilight’s leg. “Not really.”