The Temporal Manipulations of a Victorious Timekeeper

by Rodinga

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Colgate, Thunderlane, Doctor Whooves, Romance, Carrot Top, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy, Other
Length: 136659

Time Turner's just back from a week long trip to Manehatten, and things in Ponyville have changed since he left on Hearts and Hooves day. Now everypony is falling in love, and Turner would really rather that he didn't get involved.

Back home from a weeklong trip, Time Turner finds Ponyville in the grip of the post Hearts and Hooves day “new love” phase. New relationships between couples have been forged, and anypony still unattached will be looking for their own special someponies.

It’s kind of annoying really. As soon as ponies see a relationship bloom they want to find somepony for themselves, and right now those ponies are searching for all the wrong reasons.

Time Turner doesn’t want to get involved, he’d rather relax for a while and recover from his latest “business” trip. The all-powerful force of love can go bother somepony else, thanks.

Love can be avoided, especially if you’re a literal time turner, but occasionally that’s not enough.

Part of the Winningverse and preread by Chengar Qordath, JJ GingerHooves, Ponibius, Web of Hope, and 621Chopsuey.
Cover Art Sources: Turner, Carrot, Colgate, Cloud Kicker, Derpy.
As a note: I'm reliably informed the first chapter starts off a little dull, and that generally the story really hits its stride in chapter two.

Published 2013-06-28 16:10:02 UTC
Last updated 2017-06-05 01:45:34 UTC

The Pony Who Is A Cynical Optimist

Victory feels great, when it’s not too painful.

I’d had a rough week in Manehatten. But finally, I was home. Nopony can keep running forever, because eventually you need to sit down and let the bruises heal.

Stepping off the train, I took a moment to smell the warm rustic air: apple with just a hint of cinnamon. Luna, it’s good to be home. My legs nearly collapsed as I climbed down from the train station’s platform. They felt stiff like somepony had frozen them or turned the bones to lead. I’d overworked them far too much on this trip, and during the long train ride home they’d unionized and started strike action.

It wasn’t too far to go to get home now, I just had to keep walking.

Turning down Stirrup Street, I ran into a crowd gathered for an impromptu musical number. Led by Pinkie Pie with backing vocals from half the mares in town.

“Come on everypony, smile smile smile.
Fill my heart up with sunshine, sunshine.
All I really need’s a smile smile smile,
from these happy friends of mine!”

It put a smile back on my face, and I walked home whistling the tune. It’s amazing how Pinkie can take a load off your back without even trying.

My house is a nice two story affair on Stirrup Street. I’d bought it a couple of years ago after I moved here from Canterlot to escape some ‘trouble’ I had with some nasty types. Ponyville was a good place to lay low and I quickly decided to make my stay permanent. The house was vacant, I had the bits, and we’ve gotten along very well since.

The key unlocked my door with the smooth movement that takes a few hours of boredom to achieve, but not as long as it takes to set all the clocks properly. A few had stopped while I was gone. Normally I’d have pre-set them, but it’d been an emergency and I had to run to make the train. That reminded me: I’d have to apologize to Ditzy for running off like that on Hearts and Hooves day of all times. I was not looking forward to that.

I’d just hung my bags up when a rapid series of knocks hit the door behind me. My money was on it being…

The moment I touched the door it flew open with a confetti explosion. “Hi, Time Turner,” Pinkie Pie said with a grin. “I noticed you were back, here.” She passed me a pink envelope. “Gotta go make Cranky smile now, bye.” Without another word said she disappeared off.

The pink envelope held a, shockingly, pink invitation that read, “You are cordially invited to the, ‘Time Turner’s back from his mysterious trip to Manehatten Party.’” I shrugged. “Good an excuse as any.”

I went down the hallway toward my kitchen and gave every pendulum clock along the way a push to get them ticking properly again, setting them could come later. The kitchen was just as I left it, the fridge, not so much . I hadn’t done my normal pre-trip clean out either, but then there wasn't much left in there anyway.

The milk had gone bad, and mould had grown out of the yoghurt tub to invade the new civilization developing in the fruit basket. I shut the fridge. Good thing there was a party this evening, because I’d need something to eat later.

So I had get my lunch from somewhere else, then I’d have to restock the fridge and pantry, not to mention syncing all the clocks. It would take a while, and my legs ached just thinking about it.

One problem at a time, I decided. A twinge of pain from one of my legs suggested some prioritization would be a good idea.

So I spoiled myself. I’d got a fruit salad and followed it up with a pie from Sugar Cube Corner. A pie made of solid caramel, topped with cream, chocolate and a cherry on top. It had enough sugar in it to give the town dentist anaphylactic shock.

Then I went over to the spa to relax, and found myself sharing a tub with a bald donkey. We barely spoke and simply relaxed in the warm soapy water. I know it was doing wonders for the strain I’d built up on my trip. The rising bubbles took my pains away with a satisfied sigh.

The donkey opposite echoed my sentiment, I had a feeling he needed some time in here too.

“So.” I set myself against the side of the tub. “What brings you to Ponyville?” New arrivals are still infrequent enough in Ponyville that you can easily spot them. I know all the faces around Ponyville, if not their names.

“Retirement,” the donkey replied. He had the ‘just got out of bed’ grouch undertone and looked old enough to be complaining about ‘kids these days’. “To settle down with my memories and enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“Ponyville’s a good place for that.” I took a sip from the complimentary drink on the side of the tub. “It’s peaceful, relaxing and a good place to rest. At the same time it isn’t boring, because there’s always something happening.”

The donkey grumbled, “Like what?”

“The usual stuff,” I said with a shrug. “Giant animal attacks, weird visitors, the occasional weather trouble out of the Everfree, that time some gremlins set a troll cloud up over the town, and the occasional malicious spirit of chaos and/or darkness.” I scratched my head. “Oh, there was also a butterfly migration recently.”

“Is that all?” The donkey said flatly.

“There are regular parties, sudden sing-alongs, good ponies, friendship and Pinkie Pie.” I brought a hoof up to my chin. “Actually, that’s mostly Pinkie.”

“We’ve met,” he sighed.

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, she’s harmless, and if you see her do something you don’t understand, don’t question it.” The smile on my face disappeared. “Seriously. Don’t. Take it from somepony who tried.”

“Then why are you still living here?” The donkey asked. “I’m not so sure about it anymore.”

“It’s fun here,” I said with a shrug. “Give the place time and it’ll grow on you.”

“I’ve bought the house. I might as well try to live here.” He sighed and quietly added, “I haven’t had any luck anywhere else.”

You can’t change the past, but I knew a way to make him a little more welcome. “You could always join the Ponyville Gentlecolt’s Society. We’re getting together for our weekly Poker Night on Friday at Sweet Apple Acres, you’re welcome to come.”

“A Gentlecolt’s Society, what’s it for?”

“Oh, it’s just a chance for stallions to get together, talk, drink and generally do stuff without mares and their disapproving glares,” I said finishing on a grin.

“What about Pinkie?”

“We made her promise not to get involved. So that basically means it’s the only place in Ponyville you won’t find Pinkie Pie.”

“Sounds good,” he said as he laid back in the water. “I think I’ll join.”

A door opened and the spa twins walked in. Lotus came over and said, “Monsieur Cranky, it is time for your massage.”

“Alright,” Cranky said and looked over at me. “I’ll see you on Friday then.”

“Looking forward to it,” I replied.

Aloe came around the tub to speak to me, “Monsieur Turner, we shall be ready for you once we are done with monsieur Cranky.”

“No rush,” I said as I slid myself deeper under the water.

The massage worked out a lot of tension I’d built up and the bath had done wonders for the stiffness. I asked Aloe about what made the bath so relaxing and she said they’d been using an, ‘invigorating herbal brew to take worries away from you’. It was probably Zecora’s work if the rhyme was any indication. It would be worth paying her a visit and to find out what else she might have available.

The spa left me with a shine in my coat and a spring in my step. Today was a good day.

A glance at the nearest clock told me the time. Part of being the town’s Timekeeper means that I’ve set most of the clocks here at some point. So I know where they all are. For example, I was looking at a small cuckoo clock in the front room of Berry Punch’s house. Though I wasn’t sure why it was here and not further down the road where it was last week.

It was only twenty three minutes past four pm, I had time and more spending money from my trip. So I started browsing some of the stores on Main Street, there had to be something worth buying somewhere.

Quills and sofas weren’t very attractive. I’d finally broken my current sofa in and it was just right. I also had a surplus of quills. My main quill was currently a light blue feather that Rainbow Dash had left behind when she’d crashed into the tree behind my house. Thankfully, the tree was alright after Rose took a look at it.

I considered something from Art and Antiques, but nothing caught my fancy. The only thing I really noticed was a clock that looked like it had seen better hours. I told the shopkeeper to bring it around someday for a touch-up.

The next store I went into was the local branch of Parties and Pranks, where I considered a few of their products against suitable targets. The sneezing powder is a particular favourite of mine. However, the problem with some pranks is that you need to buy with a suitable target that’s either a friend who’d enjoy it, or somepony that you wanted to prank as part of a grudge. With the former it couldn’t be anything too harsh, and with the latter you tend to find that turnabout is fair play.

I was considering a bucket of extremely sour jelly-foals when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I was greeted by a face that only promised trouble; Mayor Mare, with a pleasant smile on her face.

“Time Turner, welcome back,” the Mayor said pleasantly.

The office of Timekeeper is part of the mayor’s office, which means the mayor is my boss. Technically it’s only supposed to be a ceremonial role, a title, and a small wage – a sinecure. My responsibilities are supposed to start at keeping the clock tower on time and finish at performing timekeeping for competitions, nothing more.

The Mayor’s own interpretation of the position meant that she also felt obligated to occasionally get me to run errands for her. These were often small, but troublesome. Back after the cider competition a while ago, I was the one who had to chase down Flim and Flam to make sure they gave up any claim to Sweet Apple Acres.

“Good to be back, Mayor,” I responded in the same pleasant tone.

“I was looking for you the other day, and I found the note that you left on your door.” A frown crossed her face. “I was rather disappointed to se that you’d run off again, but I’ve waited patiently. You see, I have problem…”

Here we go…

“…my watch has been running six minutes late for the past few days.” She produced a golden fob watch I’d made for her last year. “I’ve kept it wound like you said, but I don’t know why its six minutes late, or why it hasn’t changed since.”

“Hmm.” I took the watch and brought it up to my ear. The ticking was perfectly timed and I couldn’t hear any sounds that would indicate problems with the gears. “I’ll have to check this against the clock in the office.”

“Wonderful, I was just on my way back there now.” The Mayor smiled. “Shall we, or do you have something more important to do?”

I hate that question, because I rarely have anything urgent to do instead. Perils of the position and lifestyle I suppose. “Nothing right now,” I said neutrally.

“Come along then,” she said as she turned and walked toward the door. I sauntered out after her.

The Mayor led me down the street to the recently repaired town hall. It had been accidentally damaged by the weather team, and Ditzy, a while ago. There had been some difficulty in funding the repairs, but a mysterious fault in the royal treasury’s accounting gave the town a suspiciously accurate sum of bits that we ended up using to fix town hall.

When we sent a letter back to ask about the pile of bits, we got a reply saying, ‘we just don’t know what went wrong.’ Yeah, it’s a mystery.

One of these days I’ll have to ask Spike about what Twilight writes in the letters she sends to the princesses. I’ll bet she only gave town hall the barest mention once and it got fixed. She could write, ‘Oh, the dam has a crack in it again I hope it doesn’t burst.’ And before you could say, ‘Princess Celestia of Equestria’ there’d be a new dam built.

It would be funny if Twilight gets a crush on somepony and writes to the princess about it. The poor sucker would be caught, tied up and then sent to her with gift-wrapping.
I should probably avoid the library until that happens.

Following the Mayor into town hall, I took a deep breath to sample that new building smell as we walked over to the royal clock. The glass and gold timepiece is the standard gift that Princess Celestia gives to any new settlement. It’s hyper accurate, and will run for decades on a magical charge provided by the princess on a royal visit. It’s the master clock that the rest of the town’s clocks are supposed to follow.

“If you’d please, Mayor,” I held out a hoof and she put the watch on it. I put it up against my ear and put my other ear on the royal clock. I closed my eyes and let the tick of the two timepieces fill my mind. I relaxed everything else to concentrate on measuring the distance between successive ticks and tocks. Before you ask, no, it’s not my special talent, but it’s a vaguely related skill I’ve picked up through clock making.

First I listened to the tick and measured the difference, and then I did the same for the tock. By comparing the difference I could tell if the watch was running slow. It wasn’t by much – well within tolerances – but not enough to cause it to be six minutes late.

I wound the watch and reset it to the time on the royal before passing it back to the Mayor. “There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve set the time properly again and wound it.”

“Then why was it running late?” The Mayor asked.

I considered my answer. There were three possibilities and I doubted that the mayor simply forgot to wind it. She’s sooner forget her own tail then forget it in her routine. “Well, either somepony changed the set time, or you walked into a temporal distortion field where time ran slower.” I shrugged. “I think we can assume the former.”

“Why would somepony change the time on my watch?” the mayor asked before she continued on with a note of fear in her voice, “What would they be after?” I closed my eyes and rolled them. Put somepony in authority and they start to get paranoid. Paranoia is only healthy when there really are ponies out to get you, like the ones after me.

“Mayor, never attribute to malice what can be attributed to stupidity,” I quoted. “It would have just been a simple accident of curiosity. They just played around with it and when they tried to set it properly again they were six minutes off.” I gave her a reassuring pat on the back, “It’s no big deal.”

“You say that, Time Turner,” the mayor said. “I’ve kept this watch with me at all times and now I’ve got to figure out who took it without me noticing.”

Right, she’s getting worse. Time get out of here. I looked around and checked the royal clock.

“Oh, would you look at the time,” I said. “I have to go get ready for my party tonight.”

The mayor looked at her watch, and then the royal clock. “It’s only five thirty; your party isn’t until seven.”

“What, you think this look comes easily?” I said with a brush of a hoof through my mane. “It takes maintenance and I need to look my best for tonight.” Actually it doesn’t. “It’s my party after all,” I finished.

“I suppose you’re right,” the mayor conceded. “At least I know I can trust you, you weren’t here when this happened.”

I gave her a nod and said, “I’ll see you later.” Then I walked briskly away as fast as I could without looking suspicious. Heading home to prepare was probably a good idea anyway, I’d have to find out where my tie was and give it a wash.

Outside the day had turned into the dull sunlight and clear sky of a perfect Ponyville evening. The only clouds in the sky were the pegasus cloud houses that the Cloudsdale natives on the weather team insist on, and the rest of the clouds had been tidied away with the usual efficiency so the plants could get some sun in before the next shower.

A good weather team is essential for a farming town like Ponyville, and since we’re close to Cloudsdale we get the best. Spare a thought for the poor earth ponies running farms in towns like Appleloosa. The weather out there is either wild or simply not present at all.

My walk home took me through the market again. It was getting late and most of the stalls were packing up or would be soon. The best time to strike a deal is when a farmer is tired and their thoughts are on dinner.

I looked around for a good mark. Ideally you want somepony who still has a lot of stock: A farmer who’s had a good day will raise their prices, but somepony who hasn’t sold much will cut you a deal just to avoid schlepping it all back home.

Neither Applejack nor Big Mac were here, they must have sold out. Rose’s stall was light on flowers and Azalea had already packed up. I was about to start walking again when I noticed the pile of orange on the other side of the street.

Carrot Top still had a stall full of carrots and carrot accessories. Carrots are a good long term storage food, which is an important consideration for somepony who doesn’t clean out his fridge too quickly. A plan come to mind as I approached. I’d do the usual: find out how she’s feeling, what stock she had available, and loop back around for business.

“Good evening, Carrot Top,” I asked using her nickname. “How are things?”

“Not too bad,” the carrot seller said, seemingly out of habit as she continued to load her stock on to her cart.

“Is there something wrong?” I walked around the stall.

“No,” she sighed as she leant against her cart. “I’m just tired.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sound more disappointed than tired.”

“I brought a new variety of carrot to town today, but nopony seemed interested in them.” One of the carrot piles was larger than the others. I leant over to read the label, ‘Vanhoover Sweet’. Carrot Top sighed as she continued, “I went to so much trouble growing them and now it all feels like I just wasted my time.”

So, she was disappointed and tired. Useful information, I decided to make use of it.

“Alright, reset,” I said to trigger my time turning talent and spin time backwards by a few seconds. I watched as the last conversation played out in fast reverse in the brief bit of the present time that the universe hadn’t locked down in the past yet. A unicorn would tell you that my time turn is a violation of reality, highly illegal, and practically black magic. But I’m just abusing a slight loophole in temporal mechanics.

Time resumed and Carrot Top repeated, “Not too bad.” This time I knew it was just an automatic response to cover how bad she actually felt. It’s a real buck to the face to go to a lot of effort and then have your work dismissed by somepony else’s vague criteria.

I looked over at the large pile of unsold carrots and made a show out of considering them. “I didn’t know you had Vanhoover Sweets. I haven’t seen any of these in ages.” Carrot Top froze as she was packing up and her ears pricked up a little, I had her attention.

Normally in a negotiation you want to devalue the product in the mind of the seller so they compromise on price. Farmers, especially earth ponies, tend to take a lot of pride in their work and feel a higher price is justified.

But instead of the normal devaluing, I was going to talk it up. Carrot wasn’t feeling good, I wanted her to feel better and then the good feeling would pass a better price onto me. I picked up a carrot, bit the tip off and chewed it thoughtfully. “You know it tastes just like I remember,” I said, Carrot Top was now smiling at me over her stall as I swallowed. “It must have been back in Trottingham that I last had one of these.”

“It’s our first batch,” Carrot Top said. “I decided to get some seeds sent over from Vanhoover and I thought everypony would like them.” She sagged down onto the back of the stall and sighed, “But nopony really showed any interest today.”

“Ponies are never big on new things,” I commented as I took another bite. “We’ve had the same princess for over a thousand years, and even with two new ones we still only listen to Celestia.” I swallowed again. “This is still an excellent carrot. Give out a few samples with your other sales and make ponies want to come around. They won’t otherwise.”

The smile on Carrot’s face widened, but still hadn’t reached her eyes. “You really think they’re good?”

“Of course.” I put the rest of the carrot in my mouth. “It’s brilliant,” I said through the mouthful. Mares love compliments, and Carrot blushed a little as I praised her work.

“Thank you,” she said as a much more genuine smile crossed her face and I got a warm fuzzy feeling inside.

Now was the time, and so I asked, “How much for a dozen?”

Carrot almost answered before she looked over at me again. I smiled back pleasantly. “Ten bits,” she offered at the normal price, “and I’ll also throw in a carrot cake.” Carrot turned to her cart. “Just a minute,” she said before rummaged around in her cart for a while. I heard some paper being moved around, and some scratches from a pencil, before she brought out a bar-shaped cake. It was covered with thick white icing and walnuts. It definitely sweetened the deal.

“Deal,” I said with a nod. I might not have gotten a discount but I got a free cake. Not bad for a little bit of effort.

Carrot Top put the cake on a piece of paper and wrapped it in plastic before putting it and thirteen of the Vanhoover Sweets into a paper bag. I passed the coins over to pay for it and Carrot gave me my bag. I was about to walk away when Carrot Top stopped me. “Oh, Turner. If you like the cake you could always come down to the farm. It’d be nice to chat over a few pieces and some tea.”

“I think I might sometime,” I replied with a nod. “Have a good evening, Carrot Top.” I walked away with my bag and left a smile on Carrot’s face. I’d probably take her up on that offer. It would be a nice way to spend the afternoon and catch up on what happened while I was gone. It wouldn’t be right to turn down the offer of cake either.

Walking home at a relaxed pace, I saw ponies as they went through their late afternoon activities. Roseluck was tending her garden, the Cutie Mark Crusaders shot by on a land speed record attempt, and Dinky and Sparkler were playing in their front yard across the street from my house. Their mother would be around somewhere nearby, so I quickly nipped inside so I wouldn’t have to explain myself before I was ready.

In the kitchen, I nearly put the carrots in the fridge before I thought better of it, and put them in the pantry instead. At least the pantry only had a few vegetables that were growing roots, they weren’t evolving instead.

A slice of the carrot cake was tempting, but I couldn’t spoil my appetite before the party. Instead I went upstairs to have a quick shower and pick out something to wear.

After drying off, I sorted through my drawers to find my bright green tie. Green’s not really my colour, but Rarity insisted that it looked nice, so it was the one I bought. I’m not qualified to judge. My idea of fashionable was the old fedora hat that I wear whenever I’m out on a trip.

I gave my mane a quick combing and brushed my teeth, for all the good it would do after five minutes of Pinkie Party. I checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror, It wasn’t much different than normal. A quick glance at the time on my bathroom clocks said it was time, and so I set off for Sugar Cube Corner as the sun was beginning to set.

The town was unusually quiet as I walked toward the Corner, and the streets were practically deserted in the lead up to the dessert-themed building. Not much of a surprise, this was a normal constant with Pinkie. The room would be dark and then the lights would come on and everypony would yell ‘Surprise!’

Pinkie is predictable in her unpredictability. You can always expect a mad pony to be mad. But in my experience, it’s the sane ones you have to watch out for; because you can never predict when they’re going do something incredibly stupid.

Thinking about that, I walked past the front door and decided to do something different. Instead of going in the front door, I crept around the back of the bakery. I would go in the back door and join the crowd as they waited in the dark to surprise me. Then after a while I’d ask, ‘what are we all waiting for again?’ Then the ponies around me would turn to shush me, and then do a double take when they realized who I was.

I smiled to myself as I opened the back door into the dark bakery. Then the lights flickered on to reveal the empty room.

“Huh?”

Just as I stepped inside there was a crack of sound and a flash from behind me followed by the sound of running hooves.

I turned around and everypony standing behind me yelled, “Surprise!” A good portion of the town was standing there and trestle tables covered in food had appeared. A banner flew up with the words, ‘Time Turner’s back from his mysterious trip to Manehatten Party,’ in short compact writing to fit it all in.

“Hi, Time Turner,” came the voice of Pinkie Pie as she shot forward to give me a hug, “Welcome home.” Then Pinkie put me back down and asked, “So were you surprised? Were ya?”

Well this entire party wasn’t here when I walked past. “Yes actually, how did you get all those tables to appear?” The gramophone on one of the tables started to play a record.

Pinkie giggled, “Don’t be silly, I couldn’t make those appear out of thin air. Twilight teleported them here,” Pinkie pointed out the winded unicorn in the middle of the crowd.

“And everypony else?” I asked.

“Well,” Pinkie held the word as she pointed down the street. “The earth ponies came from down there.” She pointed her other hoof down another street, “the unicorns came from over there,” she pointed up with another hoof, “And the pegasuses were sitting on the roof.”

“So, where were you?”

Pinkie snorted with laughter, “I was behind that tree, silly,” Pinkie pointed another hoof at a bonsai in a pot by the door.

As I considered the small potted plant for a moment, all I could think was, Who around here has the time and patience for bonsai?

Shrugging off the mystery of the patient planter for now, I nodded toward Pinkie. “That will teach me for thinking I could out-surprise you.”

“I’m sure you could if you tried, Turner,” Pinkie said with an honest smile that I didn’t believe for an instant. Pinkie’s head shot around, “Gotta go, have fun.” Then Pinkie dashed off to say hello to somepony else, play pin the tail on the pony or whatever else she does when nopony is watching.

Don’t know, don’t want to know.

Somepony put a hoof over my shoulder. “Hey, bud. Didn’t know you were back.”

“Hello, Thunderlane,” I said as considered the jock. Give a pegasus a dark coat and he’ll think he’s Celestia’s gift to ponies everywhere. “How have things been while I was gone?”

“Been chill,” he said with a shrug. “Bunch’a new couples getting together after Hearts and Hooves.” He leaned in closer. “Weren’t you supposed to be running around with Derpy or something?”

“Why do ponies keep assuming that?” I asked rhetorically.

“Dunno, bud.” He hit me on the back. “Come on, let’s go enjoy the party.” I let Thunderlane push me into to the party starting around the trestle tables.

My return had simply been an excuse for the normal party that happened at least once a week. Pinkie was attempting to get Rainbow Dash to dance with her, Twilight was attempting to dance alone, Cloud Kicker was talking to Lyra, Berry had claimed the punch bowl, and the muffin platter had already disappeared. The usual stuff.

Thunderlane joined me in raiding the food tables. Pinkie always puts a good spread out for her parties. Last time I asked about it I found that she made most of it herself using ingredients sourced from the local farms. Apparently there’s some sort of arangement that saves her the cost of paying for it, probably a tribute of food and a good word in with the weather team.

Of course the food tables are the centre of any party, and between snacks I was greeted by ponies personally welcoming me home. It was mostly just ponies paying their respects, a polite ritual to go through before grabbing a piece of cake.

Thunderlane didn’t stick around for long. During the third wave of well-wishers he’d started talking with Sassaflash after she’d said “Welcome back” to me. In a spare moment I listened in on Thunderlane’s latest attempt in the art of wooing mares.

Thunderlane started off by catching up to Sassaflash as she was walking away, saying, “Hey there, Sassy. You look nice tonight.”

Sassaflash turned and gave Lane a slight smile. “Thanks, Thunderlane.”

He walked up to her. “I’m just wondering, what do you use to make yourself look that good?”

“Nothing really.” she gave her mane a tussle with a hoof. “I’d probably ruin it by flying anyway.” True with most pegasi, they’re not too fancy.

“Good,” he said with a nod, “because that would ruin perfection.”

Sassaflash paused, blinked twice and said, “What?”

“Sassy, you make Celestia’s sun look like the dull glimmer of Luna’s moon.” Most of the ponies in earshot stopped to watch.

Sassy laughed sheepishly and said, “You know I think I left the lanterns on at home. See you later. Bye.” She opened her wings and shot off into the air.

Thunderlane stood dejected while I walked up to him with a chuckle. “You know, Lane,” I said. “If you were on stage the audience would be laughing at you, and not in a good way. The first one was alright, but the second one was like using a jackhammer on a nail.” I put an arm over his shoulder. “Don’t worry, someday you’ll find somepony and you won’t trip up so badly.”

“I didn’t trip up, I meant to do that.” Thunderlane could boast all he likes, but he’s still in denial.

“Sure you did.”

“I’m not inexperienced,” he countered. “I’ve slept with Cloud Kicker before.”

I rolled my eyes, “No, she slept with you; meaning it was her idea, not yours.” I gave him a slap on the back, “Nothing wrong with that, but banging the Cloud and getting into a serious relationship are two very different things.”

“How would you know?”

“Remember that trip I went on last year, around autumn?” Lane nodded slowly in reply. “And how Cloud Kicker went on vacation around the same time?” I got another nod. “Well,” I said with another slap on his back. “What you do in Los Pegasus, stays in Los Pegasus.” Then I added quietly, “all four of them.” Ah, that was fun. I still have the vault at home.

“You were in one of those legendary…” Thunderlane asked with a voice full of awe.

“Yeah,” I said with a shrug, “and a couple of times since. You’re not the only stallion in Ponyville you know.”

“Why didn’t tell us before?”

“You never brought it up. Anyway, it’s not really something I should brag about.” I took my arm back from his shoulder. “In every case it was Cloud who brought it up. It’s not like I seduced her with my amazing wit and ripped her dress off as I threw her on the bed. It’s all her: her fun, her ability and, if town rumour is to be believed, her equipment.” I shrugged. “But that’s not a serious relationship.”

Thunderlane snorted, “I suppose you’re going to tell me that, ‘There’s a mare out there for every colt’ or something like that.”

“Lane, I’ve been from one side of Equestria to the other. I’ve seen a lot of strange stuff, but I’ve never seen anything to make me believe the all-powerful force of love can make that promise.” I got a cup from a nearby table and filled it with punch, “You’ve got to keep searching and eventually you might find somepony to love, or at least put up with.”

I drank my cup while Thunderlane replied, “I don’t see a ring on your tail. Why should I take your advice?” His feathers bristled slightly as he spoke.

I put my cup down. “Because this is the advice I’ve gotten from others, and it worked for them.” I put a hoof on Lane’s chest. “And here’s the best bit I’ve heard, ‘Any stallion has the chance to sweep any mare off her hooves, given a chance.’” I refilled my cup.

“And if there’s no chance?”

“Make one.” I drank again.

“So,” Lane said slowly, “Any mare?”

I rolled my eyes and smiled, “Who is it, Lane?”

Thunderlane’s wings shifted a bit. “Rarity.”

I drank the rest of my drink. “You’re not aiming low, though after what happened at the Gala I’d say you have a fighting chance.”

“At the Gala?” Lane asked.

“Rarity got a less than positive reception, and her standards are probably lower now.” I brought a hoof to my chin and mulled it over. “Get one of her friends to introduce you. Their clique is close enough that she’ll want their opinion of you anyway. Get ahead of the game.”

Thunderlane looked around, “Which one? I think most of them are here.”

“All of them, and be nice. Don’t flirt, just chat nicely with each and eventually get one of them to make an introduction to Rarity for you.” I thought for a moment and added, “Dash is probably your best hope.”

“Alright, thanks, bud. I’ll go give it a shot.” Lane put his wings out and took off in the direction of the dance floor.

“Good luck,” I called after him and quietly added, “You’ll need it.” Rarity and Thunderlane, makes Rari-Lane. I chuckled at the thought. Ultra-refined unicorn paired with a pegasus jock, winning combo right there.

Alone again, I went over to have a little more cake from the other table. Looking around I could see Thunderlane talking to Pinkie Pie, Cloud Kicker was talking to Cheerilee in what was probably the most innocent conversation Cloud would have tonight, and Rainbow Dash was over with Ditzy at the empty muffin platter. Twilight Sparkle was still on the dance floor; her dancing might be considered good by some bumblebees, but everything else kept their distance while she was ‘getting down’. Colgate, the dentist, was standing at the savoury food table staring at the ponies crowded around the sweet and cake tables. Probably mentally setting aside dental appointments for when they came in to complain about toothaches later.

But I had more pressing business, one of the tables held a large red velvet cheesecake. It looked absolutely amazing, and when I used a knife to cut myself a stallion-sized piece it felt like dragging a cart through mud, that’s how rich it was. And the taste: it was like eating a dozen strawberries at once, in a milkshake, made with cotton candy. I figured I’d also need a dental appointment soon.

I was about to get another piece when somepony jumped on my back and covered my eyes.

“Guess who.”

“The Taxation Inquisition?” I asked.

“No,” she whispered in my ear.

“Somepony who needs to lose weight?” I hazarded, and my new passenger flicked my ear. “Ouch.”

“One more guess.”

“Well, you landed on my back and you’re fairly light, so you’re a pegasus. You reacted negatively to my weight comment, so you’re a mare. And finally, I can think of only two ponies who’d jump me like this, and the other one would have missed.”

“And who would that make me?” she asked with a sultry whisper.

“Blossomforth,” I said flatly. The mare on my back started laughing and took her hooves away from my eyes. I craned my neck around to look at the purple pegasus on my back. “Still like being on top, Cloud?”

Cloud Kicker gave me her patented ‘arched eyebrow look’ and returned, “Pony rides are always fun, but sometimes I like to be ridden as well.” I spent a moment suppressing that mental image. Cloud Kicker is a living double entendre and a member of the local weather team. I’d overheard a rumour earlier before saying she was up for a promotion soon.

“So, Cloud.” I asked, “What can I do for you?”

“I want you to take me out to see a movie,” she said conversationally.

I looked at her skeptically, “Are you asking me to take you out on a date?” I paused for effect and blinked twice. “You don’t normally spend that much time on foreplay.”

That got a wry smile from Cloud. “Well I’ve been told about a great film coming out soon about a witty heroine and her sidekick, who steal a vault full of gold from a Bitallian casino in Los Pegasus. It’s called ‘The Bitallian Job’, by Vanilla Sky.”

The name sparked a few nodes in my mind. “Vanilla Sky? Wasn’t she one of the mares we…”

“Yep,” Cloud said with a nod.

A grin crossed my face, “They’re turning that into a movie? There wasn’t even a mention in the papers after we made off with that vault.” Normally you’d expect that sort of thing to be well known, but the ponies who’d stolen my money – before I stole it back – were rather keen to keep the entire event quiet. Ironically, they wouldn’t be able to stop the movie being produced without making ponies curious about what really happened. I’d have to send Vanilla Sky a thank you card for this.

“I wondered what happened…“An uncomfortable thought hit me. “Wait a tick, why am I the sidekick?”

Cloud crossed her arms and leant back – sitting primarily on my flank. “It’s not my fault I left a better impression on her.”

“Yeah but it was my idea, and now I’m the sidekick,” I grumbled.

“And a mare,” Cloud added.

“What?”

“The producers thought a mare would be more sympathetic.” Cloud Kicker had a grin on her face now. “Don’t you think so, Turner? Or should I say, Missed Minute?”

I planted my face on the table with a groan. “Alright, I’ll come, but I reserve the right to complain about everything.”

“Alright, it’s a date,” Cloud replied. “So, since we’ve come to an understanding.” Cloud laid herself along my back again. “Would you like to celebrate by coming around to my place for an after-party, Miss Minute?”

I considered it. It’s not everypony in Ponyville that ends up on the ‘would bang again’ list, and It had been a while since me and Cloud had, well, banged. “Sounds like fun.”

“Hey, Timmy Turner,” called a voice.

“Huh,” I said and turned around to see who called. Rainbow Dash was striding toward me with a ‘mildly unhappy’ expression on her face. Close behind Dash was Ditzy Doo, the cross eyed pegasus who lived across the street from me with her two daughters. Ditzy was a little reluctant as she followed Dash.

“Hey, Boss, Derpy,” replied Cloud Kicker as she lifted herself up to see over my head. “What’s up?”

“Hey, Cloud,” Dash said as she walked up before saying in a loud voice, “I just wanna ask Timmy here why he ditched Derpy on Hearts and Hooves Day.” I cringed as the record on the gramophone screeched to a halt.

“Wait, you’re actually in a relationship with Derpy?” Cloud asked, and before I could respond she flew off my back and joined Dash in glaring at me. I cringed again. Cloud thought I’d made her break one of her rules. A glance around had me sweating a bit when I’d noticed that everypony was now looking at us.

Ditzy came over to my side saying, “He didn’t do anything wrong, he had a message from Manehatten he need to answer. It was an emergency.” Ditzy was far too kind.

“Oh yeah?” Dash said and stepped forward to prod me in the chest. “So Timmy, what was so important to make you ditch Derpy, huh?”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I sighed and said, “I can’t say.” I really couldn’t.

“Can’t say?” Dash flew forward and got in my face. “Were you seeing somepony else? Were you just too ashamed to tell Derpy you weren’t interested?”

“No,” I said, “and I’m not afraid to tell her that, it’s just—”

“What, can’t stand looking into her eyes?” Dash was hovering nose to nose above me, typical pegasus intimidation. “Well?”

Looking around, I could see that wasn’t getting any sympathy from anypony watching, except Ditzy who looked on with alternating eyes. I’d had enough.

I stood back up with a snort, pushing Dash back, and growled, “Back up.”

A bit of a fuzzy feeling came over me as my Time Turn activated. Time moved backwards as I exploited temporal mechanics to buy as much time as I could. It didn’t take long to hit the hard spot where the universe wouldn’t let me go any further back, and time resumed.

Cloud was lounging forward on my back as she waited for me to answer her earlier proposition. “Get off,” I said in a harsher tone than I should of.

“Huh?” Cloud asked.

“Hop off,” I said with a little less irritation. “I need to do something, quickly.”

“Okay…” Cloud said and gave her wings a flick to get off. Then I turned around and started walking toward the two pegasi who were approaching us already.

“Hey, Timmy Turner,” Rainbow called out as I approached.

I didn’t have any patience for her anymore. “It’s Time Turner, Rainbow Deaf,” I said as I cut around her. “Hey, Ditzy,” I said with a more welcoming tone to the other pegasus. This sort of problem had to be dealt with before ponies started asking questions I couldn’t answer.

Ditzy gave me a smile, “Hi Turner,” she said as I came up to her.

“I probably should have come and found you earlier,” I said as I rubbed the back of my neck.

Dash flew over and hovered above us. “What did you just call me?”

I ignored Dash, there were more important things to do. Thankfully Cloud Kicker came forward and dragged Dash back saying, “Come on, boss. I think they need a minute.”

I bowed my head toward the humbler pegasus. “Ditzy, I want to apologize for running out on you last week. It was unfair on you, I’m sorry.”

Ditzy nodded, “It’s alright. It’s not your fault that the callout message was in my bag.” It was also the one thing in her bag that wasn’t an H&H Day card.

“Perhaps we can ignore the mail bag if we try it again next year.” I laughed unevenly. The awkwardness hung in the air for a moment. “Anyway, how did Sparkler do in that geography test?” I asked in a blatant subject change.

Ditzy’s eyes brightened as her daughter came up. “She got an ‘A’. Thank you for helping her with her homework.”

“No problem,” I said with a quick nod. “Geography’s a good subject for me. I’ve been from one side of Equestria to the other far too many times.” I brought a hoof to my chin for a moment. “Let me know when her teacher moves into history or drama, I can help there as well.”

The sound of wings flapping got my attention as Cloud and Rainbow returned. Cloud gave Rainbow a tap on the chest to keep her back and stepped forward. “So, are things going okay over here?” She looked between the two of us, “No relationship issues?” Cloud asked cautiously.

“Uh,” I considered the two pegasi for a moment. Rainbow still didn’t look happy and Cloud was fishing for information before making up her mind. “No issues,” I clarified. “We’re just neighbours and things didn’t work out when we tried going out to lunch on Hearts and Hooves.”

“Yeah,” Ditzy added with a touch of disappointment in her voice.

“Yeah,” I said, “and that’s all.” I put on my good poker face.

Seconds passed, elsewhere ponies danced while we just stood waiting.

Cloud broke the silence, “Okay then.” She looked over her shoulder at Rainbow Dash. “See, nothing wrong.”

Dash grunted and said, “Yeah.” She didn’t seem convinced.

I didn’t want to push my luck any further. Rainbow seemed to have made up her mind about me, and when somepony like her makes up their mind, it’s very hard to change it. “Hmm,” I said as I looked at the nearest clock – a custom cuckoo clock in Pinkie’s bedroom – and said, “Well, it’s getting late and I’ve just come back from a long trip.” I turned to walk away, “I’d better go hit the hay, lots to do tomorrow.” Like sleeping in, I added to myself.

“Wait, you can’t leave yet!” Rainbow said I started walking.

“It’s my party,” I said over my shoulder. “I’m pretty sure I can.”

“Hey Pinkie!” Dash called out. I had a sudden sense of foreboding and looked over my shoulder. Pinkie bounced up to Dash and kissed her.

I blinked a couple of times. “Um, what?” Rainbow said something to Pinkie, and pointed her in my direction. Pinkie had a look akin to mild horror before she zoomed over to me, as only she can.

“Turner, why are you leaving so soon?” She put her hooves on my shoulders. “Everypony is waiting for you to make your speech.”

“Speech?”

“Yeah, Dashie said you were planning one and that everypony was looking forward to it.”

My eyes narrowed as I sent them to look over Pinkie’s shoulder at Rainbow Dash. Miss Multicolour was grinning like she’d just won a race. It’s not a good feeling when you start to feel a net closing around you. And this was Rainbow Dash for pony’s sake, it’s embarrassing.

I was snapped back to reality as Pinkie started to pull me along. “…it’s for the best. If everypony wants it, and it makes them happy, then you have to make a speech. Otherwise it won’t be a good party.”

As Pinkie pulled me past the others. Dash was starting to chuckle while Ditzy and Cloud were bemused by the sight of me being dragged along. I tried to slow us down at first, but Pinkie wasn’t having any of it. So I let her lead me through the small crowd to the back step behind Sugar Cube Corner. Most of the ponies had noticed and were glancing toward us while they continued talking. Pinkie pulled out a small gong and gave it a hit, before joining the crowd below.

The spotlight was now focused on me, and everypony had turned to look at me expectantly. The key to speaking in front of ponies is this: Don’t think, do, and do it loudly.

“Great party, right?” I shrugged, “I should probably leave town every week.” There was a polite titter of laughter from the audience. You know, the kind that’s not actual laughter.

“I’m up here for a speech, with nothing to talk about. So, I’ll just say this: Thanks for coming.” I started back down the step.

“Wait,” called out Rainbow Dash as she flew up to hover over the crowd. “You didn’t answer any of our questions. Like, why did you leave, or when?”

And there it is. Rainbow just wants to interrogate me in public. What did I ever do to her? I regarded her for a moment and replied with, “I left a week ago and I had urgent business…” something boring, something boring. “…with a clock. I had to fix a clock. The one over the train station that the trains try to follow.”

That satisfied most ponies who simply shrugged and accepted my explanation. But Dash still didn’t look satisfied. I’ll bet that this went much differently in her head when she got Pinkie to pull me up here.

“So what happened to your date with Derpy?” called out somepony else.

That question almost made me trip over myself. I knew Dash was going on about that, but nopony else had taken an interest. looking around for the source, I saw the dentist step forward. She had some courage in her step, but that withered when she noticed everypony looking at her instead.

“Um,” Colgate said as she gathered herself. “You said you’ve been gone a week and that would mean you left on Hearts and Hooves day. I thought you’d be doing something with Derpy.” The crowd’s attention turned back toward me.

I briefly considered time turning back, but this wasn’t going to go away. Best to sort it out now before it could get worse.

I sighed and said, “I’ll admit I had planned to something with Ditzy.” I nodded toward her. “And that I had to cancel, but we were simply going out as friends.”

An air of confusion surrounded the audience. Somepony at the back called out, “I thought you two were dating!”

“No,” I said flatly. “Why does everypony assume that?” I held up an foreleg in a half-shrug. “Seriously, what have I done to give you all that idea?”

There was a wave of murmuring between audience members.

“Well?” I asked.

“You’re always going over to her place,” Rose said.

“You keep calling her Ditzy,” Lilly added.

“And she takes muffins over to your house,” Daisy chimed in.

Ah, the flower trio: Ponyville’s primary gossip/panic source. That explains everything.

“Alright then,” I said. “Rose: I tutor Sparkler and occasionally fix things in their house. Daisy: said muffins are a thank you gift for the previous, and I prefer to use ponies’ actual names, Lilly Valley.” I leaned against the stair railing, “Any other questions?”

Somepony else in the crowd – I didn’t see who – called out, “What are you doing Friday night?”

I sighed and said, “I have something planned already.” There was a couple of groans and few clicks of disappointment from the audience. I added, “It’s not a date, nor am I dating anypony right now.” Once I’d finished I got the distinct feeling I was being weighed up and measured by a dozen or so pairs of eyes.

On reflection, the fact it was H&H day last week would probably put romance further up a pony’s priority list. A lot of ponies would have been wondering if they’d have a partner for next year, and thinking about finding said pony. Since I’d admitted I was unhitched, I’d probably would have to deal with some approaches over the next couple of weeks until the romantic atmosphere faded away.

The voice called out again, “What about Saturday?”

Much as I like being the centre of attention, I was starting to get tired of this probing inquisition into my love life. I held up a hoof. “I think that’s enough questions for one night. As you might have guessed I’ve had a long day getting back to Ponyville and I should probably go hit the hay.”

There was a general muttering of “Yes, of course” and “Yeah.” I even heard one pony say, “He seems nice enough.” I said, “Good night everypony,” and got a combined reply as I wove my way through the crowd and around the Corner back to the street.

As soon as I was out of eyesight, I picked up the pace to a brisk canter. I wanted to put some distance between myself and the party before somepony decided to catch up. As much as I am open to the thought of romance, I’m not big on being chased around. Honestly, I get enough of that when I leave Ponyville on business.

Anyway, right now’s not a good time, because most of the mares around here are probably thinking about romance only because they missed out on Hearts and Hooves day. I’d rather find a special somepony for the right reasons, and not just because somepony is getting a little desperate.

It didn’t take long to get back home. My house was dark and silent, but for the ever present ticking. I measured the intervals in my mind as I went to my kitchen to get a drink. One of the clocks was a touch slow, its pendulum needed a push.

I got a glass out of my cupboard and found the carrot cake that Carrot Top gave me earlier. I took it across to the bench as well. I know what you’re thinking, ‘You just came back from a party, Time Turner. How can you possibly still be hungry?’

To be honest, I just can’t resist cake.

I filled up my glass before finding a knife and went across to get a slice.

Flipping it over to unwrap it, I found a note stuck on the underside. I put the knife down and read: “Turner, I’d love it if you’d come around to the farm sometime. It’d be nice to chat over some tea, and I could show you some of the things I can do with those carrots you like. Carrot Top.”

“Well,” I murmured. “Doesn’t that just take the cake?”

Author's Note

If you enjoyed this you may also want to hear about what happened in Los Pegasus.

The Pony Who is Holding all the Cards

I spent Thursday in bed reading and snacking on what was left in my cupboard. The carrots turned out to be the ideal snack food, and I ate most of them raw while charging my way through the small pile of detective novels that I’d borrowed from the library last week. It was four in the morning by the time I had finished, and four in the afternoon by the time I woke up again.

After staring at a clock for awhile, I remembered that the Gentlecolt’s Club was getting together tonight. The job of host rotated through the membership, and tonight Big Macintosh was hosting a poker night in his barn. Of course there was no way I was going to miss it; so I had a quick bath, found my old fedora, ate another carrot, and set off into the evening air.

I quickly caught up with Cranky as he plodded along in the same direction I was headed. The old guy had a spring in his step – as much of a spring an old donkey like him would have. The biggest change was probably the large gold toupee on his head.

“Good evening, Cranky,” I said as I came alongside.

“There you are, kid.” He harrumphed. “I hope you know where this thing is. I’m beginning to think I’ve walked past it already.”

“It’s just over the hill and on the right.”

“Good,” he grumbled. Despite looking chipper with what could be remotely described as a smile on his face, the donkey seemed to remain as cranky as ever. “Nopony else seemed to want to talk about this and Matilda didn’t know much either.”

“It’s something the stallions try to keep to themselves,” I replied with a shrug. “The entire point of all this is so the mares around town don’t get in on what we do or talk about.” I looked around to make sure nopony else was either around or above us. “Sometimes we want to be able to talk about stuff that you don’t want getting onto the gossip circuit.”

“Sounds like a bundle of fun,” Cranky said as we made our way down the other side of the hill.

After a few more minutes of walking we’d come up past the gate and up to one of the Apple Family’s barns. A low din of noise was coming through the walls and lantern light could be seen through the gaps in the timber.

I knocked three times and the noise stopped. A voice called back, “Password?”

“It’s Time Turner with Cranky Donkey,” I said back. Cranky gave me a funny look so I explained, “Anypony can find a password, but our names are unique to us.” The door cracked open and I shrugged, “Anyway, it’s a fast way to figure out who’s on the other side of the door.”

Noteworthy looked out the crack of the door. “Evening, Turner.” He opened it fully and directed us in with a flick of his head, “Find yourselves a table. The rest of the stragglers should be here soon.”

“Thanks, Note.” The two of us went in. Most of the stallions in Ponyville were here tonight and had joined their groups around properly clothed tables. I led Cranky to the table with my usual opponents: Big Macintosh, Caramel, and Thunderlane. Each said, “Howdy”, “Hi” and “Hey, Bud” respectively.

“Hey, guys.” I pointed to my right, “This is Cranky, and he’s new to Ponyville.”

“Cool,” Thunderlane said, “Is that supposed to be one of those literal names or something?”

“What do you think, kid?” Cranky growled. “Or do I need to spell it out so you can understand it?” Everypony else at the table chuckled.

“Here’s a hint, Lane,” I said as I took my usual seat. “It starts with a ‘C’ and ends in a ‘Y’.”

“Oh, come on guys,” Thunderlane groaned. “I’m not that stupid.”

“Nope,” Mac said.

Lane paused for a moment. “Is that no, I’m not stupid, or no I am stupid?”

“Ehyup,” Mac replied with a smile. Thunderlane sat glaring back as his mind pulled itself out of the clouds and tried to puzzle out whether he’d been insulted or not.

Mac loves using vague yes or no answers. He normally keeps quiet unless he has something important to say, and when he does he can surprise you with how much he’ll have to say about it. Open the clam and you’ll get a pearl of wisdom.

“Well,” I brought my hooves together. “Anypony have something to say before Noteworthy brings the cards around?”

“Yeah,” Thunderlane said as turned to look at me. “Where were you this morning? You missed a good party at the Corner.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Sleeping in. Why, what was the party about?”

“Cloud and Blossom had their promotions confirmed,” Lane explained. “But the reason I’m asking is because I had a couple of girls come up to me.”

“Oh.” A grin crossed my face. “Did you manage to ask somepony out?”

Lane’s face remained flat. “No, they were asking after you.”

I rubbed my forehead, groaning, “Oh for the love of Luna.”

Caramel chuckled quietly. “You know, Turner,” he said with a grin. “If you’re not interested in the mares, I can always talk to Pokey Pierce for you.”

I gave him a withering glare. “Caramel, the mare-to-stallion ratio in this town is bad enough as it is; let’s not make it any harder for the other team. They score enough own goals already.” I tapped the table idly. “I’m just not interested in any romance right now.”

“Dude,” Thunderlane said. “That isn’t right. I’m searching for a date here, and two mares walk right up to me.” He leaned back against his seat. “I get my hopes up, and then instead of me, they ask after you.” He held up his forelegs in an angry shrug. “Then you act like it’s a bad thing. What am I supposed to think? What have you got that I don’t?”

“Nothing.” Except my charm and wit. I sighed, “Lane, it’s just a phase. Think about it this way: I’m put up in front of everypony in town and I’m almost forced to admit that I’m completely unattached.”

There was a grumble from beside me. “Alright, I’m lost,” Cranky grumbled. “Somepony please explain what’s going on?”

I turned to look at him. “You remember it was Hearts and Hooves Day last week, right?”

“Never really paid it much attention.”

“Well, since the town’s got a fairly young population, there’s a whole lot of ponies still playing musical partner while trying to find their special somepony,” I said. “Especially right now because H&H Day is still on everypony’s minds. Then I’m put in centre stage in front of everypony with a big ‘He’s available’ sign above my head.” I leaned back in my chair. “That makes me a target because nopony needs to do the normal song and dance to find out if I’m available.” I sighed. “It’ll be a couple of weeks before it cools down.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Thunderlane asked. “They’re falling over each other to get at you.”

“Nope,” Mac responded.

I shook my head and added, “They’re just asking because they know I’m available, not because I’m the right pony for them. Any relationship would probably be short lived at best, and heartbreaking at worst.”

“Couldn’t you just go along with it?” Lane asked. “If they’re looking for company you could just bang them. You know, like Cloud Kicker does.” The entire table glared at Thunderlane and he shrank back into his seat. “Uhh.. I’m sorry?”

“Best think about that again, Thunderlane,” Big Mac boomed as he leaned forward. He sounded like a disappointed parent. “These ponies aren't looking for some fling, and treating them like that is a disservice to them.”

It amazes me how immature Thunderlane can be, and that despite his age he’s probably still a young kid inside. The same can be said about a lot of the pegasi around actually, it’s probably a Cloudsdale thing. It was probably worth cutting him some slack though. Some of those ponies might actually be looking for a fling, but there was no way for me to know that.

“Think about it this way, Thunderlane,” I said neutrally. “If somepony wanted a fling they’d probably go past Cloud Kicker first. Cloud’s got a reputation and so she’s always sure it’s just a fling, but I’m not.” I sighed. “And considering the damage that an awkward misunderstanding could do, it’s best I don’t get involved at all if I can.”

Lane nodded in response. “I probably shouldn’t have suggested it then,” he said glumly.

“Don’t worry about it.” I looked around. “Lane, why don’t you go get the cards off Noteworthy. Since we have a full table we don’t really need to wait for anypony else.” Lane nodded, pushed his chair out and went off to get the cards. Hopefully he’d have some time to think.

Once he was gone I groaned and leant against the table with a hoof over my face. “And he thinks he’s going to win over Rarity.”

“Really?” Caramel shook his head, “Lane’s just not what she’s after. Me and Lucky drove her down to the Gala last year and she fit right in there.” He leaned back in his seat. “She looked divine, and when she batted those eyelashes at me…” A satisfied grin crossed his face. “I would have taken her anywhere.”

I had to agree with that. Rarity is that rare gem of both inner and outer beauty, but she’s always had her heart set on something grander. I don’t think anypony in town will measure up to whatever vision Rarity has in mind for her future. Though depending on how true the stories of the Grand Gala were, she may have had a good dose of reality.

“What do you guys think about Lane’s chances?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t bet on it,” Cranky said immediately.

Caramel gave me a noncommittal shrug.

“Bad,” Mac said in his slow drawl. “Ah suspect that there’s somepony else with their mind on Rarity, and they’ve got a much better chance than Thunderlane.”

“Oh,” I said with a grin. “Got an inside scoop to share, Mac?”

“Tain't my place to say,” he said. “If you’d excuse me, I got to do something before the game begins.” Mac stood up, nodded and walked away.

“Well that was enlightening,” I said as Mac went over to the barn door.

“Two speeches in as many minutes.” Caramel checked over his shoulder and looked back at us. “It’ll be a wonder if we get anything else out of him tonight.”

“So,” Cranky asked. “What are you going to do about the Thunder Kid?”

“Do?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Kid needs help,” Cranky rumbled. “He won’t ask for it, nor appreciate it, but it doesn’t sound like he knows what he’s doing.”

It was certainly looking that way. Thunderlane’s screwed up dates before and he face-planted before even getting to the date the last time I saw him. If Mac was right about Lane’s chances with Rarity, and Mac is always right when he opens his mouth, then we had to push Lane into finding somepony else. Lane’s fast to claim his ability in wooing mares, and it was a delusion we’d have to break.

“I’d almost have to play foalsitter for him while he’s on a date.” I snorted and shook my head muttering, “Not asking much.”

“Hey guys,” Thunderlane called out as he flew back over. We all turned to look, and didn’t say anything else while Lane put the deck of cards down on the table. “I got one of those charity sets the town did last year.” He looked around, “Where’s Mac?”

“Fetching something,” Caramel replied with a shrug. “Deal out the cards and we’ll get started when he gets back.”

Dealing cards is difficult without magic and, since we lacked a unicorn at the table, the role of dealer fell to Thunderlane. He leaned against the table and used hoof, wing and mouth to quickly shuffle the cards. It’s hard to explain how he does this, but then again pegasi have always seemed a little strange to me.

We were each given two cards and a pile of chips ‘worth’ a thousand bits. The games we play in club meetings are all casual and an excuse for good conversation. An actual game, with real bits, wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining.

I flipped my pair of cards onto my card stand. I had a seven of apples and a princess of wings which featured a picture of Rainbow Dash mid-Rainboom. Normally the princess cards in Applewood style decks featured members of the royal family, and Blueblood. But this specific deck was specially printed to raise money for the town library so Twilight could expand the fiction collection.

I was the one who suggested the idea and then convinced the Gentlecolt’s club to buy up the decks. End result: the club plays my favourite form of poker, Apple Two Card, and the rest of the princess cards featured other local celebrities instead of the usual royals. Rarity had replaced Blueblood as Princess of Diamonds, Applejack had replaced Princess Celestia as the Princess of Apples and the Princess of Hearts, Cadance, was replaced with Cloud Kicker. The slightly controversial choice of Cloud as a princess was made by a member of the committee who’d been crossed off Cloud’s ‘To Bang’ list. It wasn’t hard to arrange.

We’d gotten into a four-way staring competition when the barn door opened again as Big Mac walked in with a cart full of barrels and his dog. All the other tables turned to look, and a few cheers were heard.

Mr. Waddle, the eldest and thus leader of the club, waddled over to the cart and raised his voice. “Gentlecolts, Big Macintosh has kindly brought us a few barrels of cider.” There was some heavier cheering and Mr. Waddle let it die down before he continued. “Now we all know that the Apple family has gone through some tough times, and so I’d appreciate it if you show some gratitude in turn to him for his expense.”

Mac set the cart up by the door with a stack of cups and a collection plate. He’d probably make almost as much from donations, if not more, than he would if he sold the cider in town.

Big Mac brought a few empty mugs over to our table, followed by his dog on top of a small barrel of cider and rolling it along behind him. Mac put the mugs on the table, and brought up the barrel once the dog hopped up onto a spare seat.

“Hey, Mac,” Caramel said. “I know Winona’s a smart cookie, but I’ve never heard of a dog playing poker.”

Mac shrugged. “She was interested in what was going on inside.”

I looked at our new guest. Winona sat with her front paws on the table and her tongue lolled out as she looked back and forth at us. She was the picture of innocence.

“She’s Applejack’s dog, right Mac?” I asked.

“Ehyup.”

“How do we know she isn’t going to report everything we say to her?” I gave Winona a suspicious glance and she simply turned her head to the side to look quizzically at me.
Nothing acts that cute without some ulterior motive.

“She can’t talk, Turner,” Caramel said with an amused tone.

“But she can talk to Fluttershy,” I shot back.

Big Mac rolled his eyes. “Well, she ain’t going to talk anyways. Right, Winona?”

She gave a short affirmative bark in response. I still didn’t believe her, but I kept my mouth shut.

Mac looked to his cards and put them on his own stand. He blinked once and put twenty bits in the pot. Everypony turned to look at Caramel to see if he would answer the bet, and he did. This was followed by bets from Cranky, me and then Lane. The first rounds played out with small pots and little conversation. Mac poured cider into each of the empty mugs he’d brought and passed them around.

Caramel and Lane wasted no time in drinking theirs, Cranky sipped his and I only gave mine a taste. It was bitter, and the taste of alcohol was present. This batch had been properly aged for a month or two. Most cider from Sweet Apple Acres is right off the tree and never ferments, but this year may be the first time in memory the Apples actually had some leftover after cider season.

The third round came as we started to get bored of the ‘silent opposition’ play. Mac’s normally the first to fold: he just looks around, figures out who’s bluffing and who’s holding gold. Caramel followed Mac’s lead and folded immediately while Cranky bowed out once he saw the first group of house cards – the ones in the centre.

This left me with Thunderlane. I had a 7 and a 9 with only a matching 7 in the house cards revealed so far. Lane seemed confident in whatever he had, but he’s always overconfident. The fourth house card was flipped to reveal a 3, nothing helpful.

“So,” Lane said casually. “Let’s make things more interesting. I’ll wager a story or secret, to be told at the end of this round, if you’ll match it.” A smirk crossed Lane’s face.

My eyes narrowed. “I’ll match. What sort of story did you want?”

“You win, I’ll tell you what I did on Hearts and Hooves Day. If I win, you tell me what you did on Hearts and Hooves Day.”

I groaned internally. Even Lane had to know about Manehatten. If Pinkie had just written “Turner’s back” on her party banner instead of “Mysterious Trip”, nopony would have noticed, and as much as I’d like to tell Lane, I couldn’t.

I considered my options: fold and lose the match, or risk something I couldn’t bet. So this meant that I’d have to hoof over my chits. The best part was that Lane would use this every round until he had all my chits. A cunning, if simple, plan, but I had my own hidden card to play here.

“Okay, Lane,” I agreed. “Only if you won’t ask that again after I win.”

“Cool,” Lane replied, overconfident as always.

The final card was flipped to reveal Applejack the Princess of Apples. Net gain for me: nothing.

I breathed in, getting ready to say ‘reset’ or ‘backup’ or one of the similar words I use to kick the mental trigger for my time turn. I can only go as far as the present lasts – about 42 seconds – and I wouldn’t be able to do it for another two minutes or so. I’ve used it to cheat before, but I don’t like using it in friendly games.

The two of us flipped our cards off the stands so everypony could see them. I had a pair of sevens and Thunderlane had a pair of threes.

I breathed a sigh of relief. False alarm.

Lane’s ears flattened. “Buck.”

“Alright, Lane,”Caramel laughed. “Spill the beans.”

Lane leant forward with a sight, collecting all the cards as he went into his story. “Right, so for H & H I asked out one of the girls in my squad on the weather team, Merry May. We’ve flown around a lot together, and she’s fairly fit, so I thought we’d go flying. We’ve done around town, so we went out further and ended up near Ghastly Gorge.”

I blinked. “That’s practically on the other side of the Everfree Forest, and almost as dangerous.” The place was a good hour’s walk away, and close enough to share monsters with the Everfree.

“The boss always said it was dangerous,” Lane shrugged. “But she also says it’s one of the best places to practice flying. So when Merry and I flew over it, I challenged her to a race.”

Cranky harrumphed. “You lost didn’t you?”

Thunderlane balked. “She didn’t win by much, and I was slowed down when a quarray eel got a hold of my tail—”

As one the entire table looked over at Lane’s behind. The hair was cut really short and barely covered the dock of his tail.

Lane hid what was left of his tail behind his flank. “It-It’s nothing. Short tails are in this season.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “Who told you that?”

“I heard Rarity say it.”

I thought about pushing the point, but decided he’d suffered enough. “Well, it doesn’t look too bad. Anyway, we can’t complain about a short tails.” I smiled and gave my own a flick.

Thunderlane dealt out the cards again with his wings. I again tried to figure out how he was doing that, but it was as much a mystery to me as unicorn magic. I flipped my new cards onto the stand and found myself with a 1 and a 3. Too low. Even if I had a pair it wouldn’t carry enough weight to be worth a bet. Not wasting time, I announced, “I fold,” and flipped the cards back off my stand. Cranky did the same.

Thunderlane opened, saying, “I’ll raise. Anypony want to match?”

“Ehyup,” Mac said and pushed his own chips into the pot.

“I think I can,” Caramel said as he followed.

A deft flick from Thunderlane’s wing flipped the first three house cards over. Much to the pegasus’s dismay as he revealed a 3 and a pair of 5’s. “Lame,” he said as he flicked his cards over.

Big Mac turned to face Caramel over Winona’s chair. Mac’s one of the best players around, mostly a combination of his permanent poker face and the ability to spot a pony bluffing from three tables away. He tends to figure out what ponies have very quickly and will bow out early, or go on to win.

Caramel, on the other hoof, is a bit like a sheep. Not that I’m trying to offend the sheep here, but he’s a bit easy to herd. It makes him a good farm assistant, but not a poker player.

“Raise,” Mac said as he pushed a small pile of chips into the pot.

Caramel glanced at his the cards and house's before he said, “I’ll match.”

Lane leant forward to flip cards again and I asked him, “So, Lane, what happened next?”

“Merry freaked when she found how what happened to me.” Lane sank back into his chair once he flipped the card. “She said I was reckless and shouldn’t have talked her into running the Gorge. Once she stopped, we flew back home and we haven’t spoken since.”

“Well…” I’d guess that the not speaking was probably Lane being embarrassed about what happened, but it was worth looking into it to see if Merry would be willing to try again on a safer date. “It could have been worse. You should probably send her an apology note.”

“Why?” Lane asked.

Caramel looked away from his duel with Mac to say, “Because it’s a nice gesture.”

Mac added, “Ehyup” and then he hoofed some chips forward. “Raise”.

“I’ll call that,” Caramel answered.

“I’ll give her a note tomorrow then,” Thunderlane said. His ears drooping with a sigh, “Not that it’ll do any good. I’ve practically tried dating everypony on the weather team now.”

“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” I said with a shrug. “And it’s not like you’re risking anything.”

“My rep,” Lane countered.

I swallowed my own retort, I can only do so much damage to Lane’s ego before it breaks, and if I do that he won’t have anything left.

“How’s it going over there?” I asked the duelling duo.

“Good,” Caramel replied, not looking away from his staring contest with Mac. “I’m about to win.”

“Nope,” Mac replied and Winona added a bark in support.

Cranky grunted. “The dog doesn’t think you’ll win.”

“Don’t believe her,” Caramel said flatly. “She’s just agreeing with Mac so she’ll get a treat later. She’s not smart enough to play poker.”

Lane leant forward to flip the last card and Mac raised the stakes. Caramel met them and then laid his cards on the table. Mac grinned and turned his over.

Caramel had two threes and a pair of house fives, giving him two pairs. Mac had one of his own fives, combined with the two house fives to give him three of a kind. Mac didn’t say anything as he leant forward to rake in his pile of chips while Caramel face-planted into his remaining pile.

“Lane, deal Winona in next round,” I said with a grin.

“Sure,” Lane said as he gathered up the cards again. “She can share Mac’s chips. He’s got plenty.”

“Ehyup,” Mac said from behind his mini-fort. He had the largest pile now that he’d added almost half of Caramel’s to it, and despite the lack of facial expression I could feel the waves of smugness coming off him.

As Lane started dealing again I asked, “Anything interesting happen while I was gone this week?”

Lane paused to shrug before he continued dealing. “Dash and Pinkie Pie hitched up and started throwing pranks and partying all the time. Rumour is that’s why Cloud and Blossom got promoted this morning.” He sighed as he gave Winona her cards. “Now I have two bosses to deal with, Dash and Blossom.”

I gave him a sympathetic look, “I feel for you, Lane, but as long as you stay in line you’ll be fine.” I tapped the table as a thought struck, “Oh, and keep the thunderclouds away from Ditzy. The Mayor is still complaining about having to get town hall rebuilt.”

“That was totally not my fault,” Lane objected, taking the accusation more personally than I intended. “I counted all our thunderheads after and we hadn’t lost any. I have no idea where she even got that cloud from.”

“Rogue out of the Everfree?” I asked.

“Probably. It wasn’t one of ours,” Lane said. “And you can bet that I keep a good eye on them now.”

As you might guess, Thunderlane’s talent and mark were thundercloud themed so presumably they were important to him for some reason.

“Good,” I replied before turning to the others. “Anypony else got anything to share?”

“It’s your turn,” Cranky complained.

I looked down at my cards – a 6 and 9 – as well as the pot. The number of chips confused me for a moment. “Did Winona actually bet?” I got a nod from Mac and a happy bark from the dog. “I’ll match,” I said as I pushed my chips in. “So, somepony else was going to tell me about what’s been happening around town?”

“Well,” Caramel said as he brought a hoof to chin in thought. “I’ve got something I could talk about, but you probably want to hear Big Mac’s story first.” Then he threw a sly grin in Mac’s direction.

“Ah’m sure you’re not interested,” Mac deflected.

The quick response got my interest, as well as Lane’s. “Is this the story I keep hearing about?” Lane asked. “Tell us, Mac, I wanna find out what actually happened.”

Big Mac looked around at the table nervously. Everypony, and Winona, was looking at him with anticipation. He sighed, “Alright. Do y’all know my little sister and her friends?”

Everypony nodded. I was familiar with their reputation together, but I had only met Apple Bloom personally. There’s a reason I wait until it’s Big Mac’s turn to run the market stall before I buy my apples.

Mac continued, “Apple Bloom and her friends decided that their teacher, Cheerilee, needed a special somepony for Hearts and Hooves day.”

“They actually managed to get her past Applejack?” I asked with a chuckle. Big Mac’s the biggest, and strongest, guy in town so he’s basically its most eligible bachelor. Something that Applejack is apparently trying to maintain. Big Mac glared at me for my comment and I replied, “Sorry, continue.”

“Somehow they made a love potion, and when they got us together they had us drink it.” Mac paused, presumably to catch his breath, and then continued, “A’h don’t remember anything after that, but by the time they fixed it we were about to get hitched.”

“Married?” I asked with surprise. “That must have been a very powerful potion.”

It was probably illegal too, and might have gotten them in big trouble if they hadn’t been kids. The unicorns had laws written in big angry red letters against any form of non-consensual mind-magic. Then again, they had one of those for time travel and I’ve never listened to that.

Thunderlane snorted, “Enough to get Mac to call her his, ‘hearty-smarty smoochy-woochy baby-waby’ in public.”

“What?” I said as I burst into laughter with the rest of the table and Mac went a little redder. “Yeah, it would take a love potion to do that.”

Caramel snorted, “Yeah, it was also strong enough that Mac managed to drag Berry’s house down Saddle Street.”

“Really?” I looked over at Mac, he nodded. “Well that explains that.” I brought a hoof to my chin, “I was wondering how that happened.”

“Afterward me and Cheerilee had a picnic,” Mac continued on in spite of us. “Ah might also have asked her out to dinner in a couple of nights.”

“Congratulations,” I said. It was good news, Mac doesn’t get out much.

“Gratz, dude,” Lane said in distant echo of me. “Might wanna make sure you say more than ‘ehyup’ and ‘nope’ though.”

I nodded, “Make sure Applejack doesn’t try talking you out of this either. Better yet, don’t let her know about it.” The last thing we needed was for her to try keeping him away from his date.

“Ehyup,” Mac agreed with an emphatic nod.

“Yeah,” I said, “the last thing you need—wait a tick, where’s Winona?”

The table looked toward the empty seat and then looked around for her. The barn’s door was open enough for her to have snuck out. Caramel saw the door and came to the same conclusion I did. “Do you think she’s going to go tell Applejack?”

I reached over and flipped Winona’s cards over to reveal the Princesses of Apples and Diamonds. “Well she gave up an almost guaranteed win.”

Mac coughed, “Those are mah cards now.”

“I fold”, Caramel announced and everypony else followed suit. Mac raked in another pile of chips and put himself even further in the lead.

Lane reached forward to start dealing out the cards again. As he was doing that I looked over to Caramel. “You said you had a story to tell as well?”

“Yeah, well, you guys are all talking about what you did on H&H.” He gave a little shrug. “Mine’s not as good, but I suppose I can tell it anyway.” Caramel took a set of cards from Lane and put them on his stand before continuing, “Colgate was a little down and so we went out as friends on a walk together.”

“The Dentist?” Thunderlane asked as he passed me a pair of cards.

“Yeah. We just walked around and talked about all the couples we saw together. We didn’t get any lunch so I got a box of chocolates for us to share from a market stand as we passed. You can only get the good stuff around H&H, I couldn’t resist,” he added.

I was looking down at my cards – a 2 and a 4 – when a thought struck me. “Hold on, Caramel.” My voice took on an accusatory tone, “You bought her chocolates?”

“Yeah,” Caramel said bemusedly. “She was disappointed when we found all the café tables had been reserved, and she said she was getting hungry as we passed the stand.” He brought a hoof to his chin. “Though it probably wasn’t a good idea, she ended up having to go home and brush her teeth because she was scared she’d damage them.” He shrugged, “Dentists take their work a bit too seriously sometimes.”

I tapped a hoof on the tabletop in thought for a moment. “Alright, let me get this straight,” I began. “You went for a walk with a mare who was alone on H&H day, which would mean she didn’t have a colt friend.”

“Yeah.”

“You talked, at length, about other couples in middle of romantic dates.”

“Yeah.”

“You tried to take her to a café.”

“They didn’t have room, but yeah.”

“Then as soon as she said, ‘I’m hungry’ you went and bought her a box of chocolates.”

“It was for both of us.”

I nodded. “So you shared it. She’s a unicorn, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So I’m guessing she fed them to you as you walked, and ate them herself despite being a cleanliness-obsessed dentist.”

“Yeah…” and his face fell flat at it hit, “oh.”

I gave him a smile. “You’re catching on. Did she start walking closer, and perhaps even nudging or touching you?”

“She did.” Caramel almost sounded resigned.

Thunderlane started to laugh. “Dude, she totally has the hots for you.”

Caramel groaned as he buried his face in his hooves. “What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” I surmised.

Lane cuffed me on the shoulder. “Dude, harsh,” he said.

I turned my head aside to give Lane an apologetic look, “I didn’t mean to insult Caramel. I was being literal.” I looked back across the table. “Caramel, it’s not really your fault. She drove you into it.”

Caramel looked up from his hooves with a quizzical look on his face, “Uhh, what?”

“She made you do all that.” I shrugged, “Though I don’t know if she intended to.” The table listened intently. “Not to insult you, Caramel, but you’re fairly easy to lead. Big Mac just led you into a trap a few rounds ago and took most of your chips almost without saying anything.

“Hearts and Hooves day is almost like poker, it’s all about making pairs. Colgate’s alone on the most romantic day of the year, sees her friends getting pairs together and subconsciously she’s thinking, ‘I need a colt in my life’,” I tipped my head to the side, “though she’d deny it if you asked her. So, now she’s looking around,” I said while miming the action. “And she spots somepony she knows, a colt, alone on this of all days.”

“Especially since Sassaflash was out of town…” Lane murmured as he rolled his eyes.

Ignoring Lane, I continued, “So she comes up to you and says.” I put on a bad impression, “‘Hi Caramel, nice day isn’t it? It’s sunny, the birds and bees are flying around, and the weather team put a rainbow up. Want to go for a walk?’ You, being a gentlecolt decide, ‘Sure, it’d be nice’ and then you walk off together.” I slid a card around in circles on the table, “It’s all innocent still, you’re just walking around and, since the day is that day, you naturally talk about everypony around you. Of course this is nudging Colgate’s subconscious along as well. You both work up an appetite and see the café ahead of you. Perhaps she mentions food. You go in, find no room, and walk out.”

“And now,” Lane added, “You’re even hungrier because you saw all the food in the café.”

“Just so,” I nod in Lane’s direction. “Of course any stall actually open on H&H has a romantic theme with roses and chocolates, the good ones. Colgate’s subconscious pokes her saying, ‘Wouldn’t chocolate be good right now?’ so her tummy rumbles and she says she’s hungry. You, again being a gentlecolt, decide to fix her hunger and your own at the same time by using the nearest food source.”

I shake my head with a smile, “And now the damage is done. She’s suddenly thinking, ‘He’s being nice and it’s Hearts and Hooves day.” I laid my head against my arm in an impression of a love-struck mare, “Does he like me? Could he?” a light titter in my voice. “‘Oh, I do so dearly hope that it is so!’ and so she starts walking a little closer while giving a few ‘subtle’ hints. You don’t respond, but you don’t push her away either and now everything you do has romantic undertone you never intended.”

Caramel had his head in his hooves and staring blankly off into the distance. It’s the kind of look that you wear when everything falls into place and you don’t like the results.

Then Cranky decided to say what we were all thinking, “You’re doomed.”

“Ehyup.”

“What do I do?” Caramel asked. “We’re just friends and I want to keep it that way.”

I scratched the back of my neck and thought for a moment. Knowing Caramel it was apparent that in an actual relationship it would be Colgate running the show. She’d have him on a leash and probably never realize it. Caramel would start to resist after a while, and Colgate would end up forcing him along into a loveless relationship, or marriage.

I clicked my tongue. “Not much you can do, Caramel. It’s already started and now the best thing to do is to avoid anything romantic. Don’t meet or talk to her alone, keep others around.” I breathed in and held before finishing, “Give it some time and let her start doubting it. Hopefully, it will pass.”

“Alright,” Caramel said with a nod, “I’ll try. Hard to believe this could happen so easily.”

I snorted, “There’s no such thing as being ‘friendly’ when you’re alone with somepony else on Hearts and Hooves day.”

“Yeah,” Thunderlane agreed. “But I thought you had a ‘friendly’ lunch planned with Ditzy on H&H as well.” Lane leaned over toward me. “At least before you ran away.”

Yeah, ‘friendly’, I thought to myself. I’d been trying to avoid thinking about that all week. “A lunch I never had. She had a message in her bag calling me out to Manehatten, and I had to leave right away.”

“I’m starting to wonder,” Lane said with a questioning tone. “Did you plant that message there just so you could get out of that date?”

I looked over with genuine shock, “Do you really think I’m that underhoofed?”

Thunderlane looked away and wouldn’t meet my gaze. None of the others would either. I slumped back in my seat. There wasn’t any way to convince them otherwise.

I looked back at the forgotten game of poker sitting in front of us. I wasn’t badly off, but Mac had a commanding lead over everypony else. I fiddled with the cards I had.

“So,” Thunderlane asked as he left the word hanging in the air for a minute. “It’s your turn to tell us something.”

I looked around at the table, I suppose it is. They probably wanted to find out what I was doing in Manehatten, but that wasn’t on the table. I suppose I do need to tell them something. I thought for a little bit before asking, “What do you guys know about Carrot Top?”

Caramel answered the question, “She owns the farm on the western border of Sweet Apple. She mostly farms carrots and similar root vegetables by herself without much in the way of help.”

“Gets less rain as well,” Thunderlane added. “Carrots don’t need as much as other crops so we only give her a couple of showers each week.”

“Applejack ain’t fond of her,” Big Mac said in his slow drawl. “There’s a rivalry, but ah don’t have anything against her.”

“Well,” I said, “She slipped me a note the other day with a free cake after I complimented her carrots.” I closed my eyes to focus on remembering it. “It said, and I quote, ‘I’d love it if you’d come around to the farm sometime. It’d be nice to chat over some coffee, and I could show you some of the things I can do with those carrots you like.’” I tapped the table, “What do you guys think?”

Big Mac went straight for the key point, “She said love.” It was used innocently, but it could easily have been a mental slip hinting at her intentions.

“I’m interested in the bit about carrots,” Lane said as he leaned forward against the table. “There’s probably a lot she could do.”

I nodded, “It was a very good cake, moist and fluffy.”

“Her muffins would probably be like that too,” Lane said. “And if she’s out there alone with her vegetables all the time, then using them would probably be right up her alley.”

“Her cooking’s probably very wholesome.”

“Yeah,” Lane said with an nod. “The short and sweet stuff around town is fine and all, but sometimes a colt just wants a huge, satisfying meal chock full of vegetables.”

“She makes a good plowpony pie,” Mac drawled. Though I was wondering how he knew that.

“That sounds good,” Lane said with a bit of longing in his voice. “Turner, you gotta accept that invitation. Then stay for dinner, and get me a piece of that.” He leaned over and put his hooves together to beg, “Please, I can’t cook to save my life.”

“I’m a bit worried about that.” I shook my head. “Every mare’s been told the way to a stallion’s heart is through the stomach. What am I going to do if there’s a three course meal waiting for me?”

“Just eat it,” Lane said as he threw his arm out in disbelief. “Honestly I don’t get why you’re so worried about this.”

“You shouldn’t,” Caramel added, shrugged and continued, “She might just be lonely and want somepony to talk to.”

I snorted and retorted, “Says the stallion that accidently had a mare fall in love with him.”

“Oh,” Lane said with a sharp laugh. “Says the pony that’s afraid somepony might actually care for him.” I opened my mouth but found I didn’t have anything to say to that. “Maybe I should play hard to get,” Lane said bitterly. “It seems to work for you.” I leant back in my seat while Thunderlane lent forward with his wings unfurled. “Do you know how hard it is to get an opening like that?” Lane asked. “Don’t refuse it.”

“Who said it was an ‘opening’?” Caramel countered. “It’s just an invitation to lunch, nothing will happen.”

I held up my hooves, “Alright, let’s take a vote: Who thinks I should visit Carrot Top at her farm tomorrow?”

A chorus sounded, “Yeah”, “Mhmm”, and “Ehyup”.

I blinked. “You think I should, Mac?”

Mac nodded and said, “Ah think she could use the company.”

“Well that’s three out of four.” I shrugged. “I’ll go visit her tomorrow afternoon then.” Thinking over the responses I looked to my right, “So what do you think Cranky—oh.”

Cranky had fallen asleep at some point, his head resting on his pile of chips from the long-forgotten poker game. I slipped my fedora off my head and onto the table. I kept my watch and a few other things under it when I didn’t have my bags with me. It’s also a great place to hide lock picks for… situations.

“It’s nine forty-six.” I put my hat back on, “I suppose it is getting late.” Looking around I noticed that most ponies from the other tables had drifted off as well.

“Yeah, I got work tomorrow morning,” Lane admitted as he stood and stretched out his wings. “Gotta cosy up to my new boss.”

“Don’t go too far,” Caramel warned Lane. “She probably gets enough awkwardness from being around Cloud. Don’t add to it.”

“Yeah, my job’s awesome so don’t worry, I’m not gonna blow it.”

“Not to interrupt, but what are we going to do with Cranky?” I asked pointing at the dozing donkey.

“Ah’ll take care of it,” Mac offered. He stood up and took a swig of the last cup of cider.

“I’ll give you a hoof,” Caramel added. “He’s not far from my place.”

I arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re okay carrying him all that way?”

Mac didn’t comment, but Caramel replied, “Mac pulled Berry’s house down a street. I’m sure he can manage Cranky.”

I glared blankly at Caramel while resisting the urge to facehoof. “No, if he’s okay walking across town and back, not if he can carry an old donkey.”

“My guest, my job,” Big Mac said.

“Alright,” I stood. “Come on, Lane, let’s go.” I nodded at Mac, “Thank you for the evening.” Mac simply nodded back and I left the barn with Lane.

We walked up the track to the farm front gate in silence. I took a moment to appreciate the eeriness of the orchard in the moonlight. It was brighter than it used to be. I suppose there was more light coming off the moon now that the mare that once covered it was now gone, and Princess Luna was probably trying to encourage more nightlife with a brighter moon. Though more light also means more shadows and that just served to make things eerier.

“So, Thunderlane,” I asked. “Do you want my help?”

“Hmm?” Lane raised an eyebrow – or at least I think he did. He’s hard to see in the dark.

“Next time you want to try dating,” I clarified. “I can’t do it for you, but I can give hints and make sure nothing goes wrong.”

He shrugged, “Might as well. It’s not like you could make it worse.”

“Not likely,” I noted truthfully. “But I could help.”

“I’ll tell ya next time I get a date then.” Lane yawned and nearly bumped into me as we walked.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just need to get home,” he said through the tail end of his yawn. He opened his wings and gave them a flap. “See ya later, bud.”

“Goodnight, Lane.” With that said, Lane took off into the air with only a slight wobble.

Alone, I continued walking in silence as I passed Carrot Top’s farm. Without many trees to block the view, you could see across the entire farm to where it met Sweet Apple Acres.

The farmhouse itself stood by itself in what seemed like a featureless plain in the dark. There wasn’t any lantern light in the windows, so Carrot Top was probably already asleep like most farmers around Ponyville. Mac had said she lived alone out here so I could appreciate that she’d enjoy having a guest around.

I soon reached town and made my way along Saddle Street to Stirrup before coming back to my house. I reached my door and at pushed the handle, only to find it locked. I rolled my eyes. The old habits die hard. Not many ponies around here bother to lock their doors, but I’m still jaded enough from the time I spent in Canterlot that I still lock the door by reflex whenever I go out. I flipped my hat onto my hoof to find my keys and found their spot empty.

“Oh, come on.” I gave the door another useless push. Looks like I’ll have to go get the spare off Ditzy. I turned around to walk across the street when there was a flash and a loud crack from behind me.

I jumped around on reflex to try and see where the noise had come from. The world was silent for a moment before I heard a mechanism turn as my door opened.

A familiar tan stallion with a fetching mane cut stepped out of the door. “Hello there,” he said to me.

My face fell. “Oh Celestia,” I sighed. “What is it this time?”

He brought a hoof to his chest in mock shock. “I come all the way from the future to open our door and this is the thanks I get?”

The problem with meeting your future self is that your future self is always insufferably smug. They know how things go and love to rub it in.

“You didn’t need to,” I told Future Time Turner. I pointed over my shoulder and added, “I could have just gotten the spare from Ditzy.”

“But you would have been interrupting the magic,” Future said to me. He walked forward, turned me around, put a hoof on my shoulder and pointed toward Ditzy’s house. “Right now Cloud Kicker is solving your problem.” Then he paused and half-shrugged. “For now at least.”

“So they’re…”

“…eating muffins,” Future finished.

I scrunched my face up a bit. “That’s a terrible way to put it.”

Future gave me a pat on the back. “I know, but get used to it.” His voice flattened. “Because they’re never going to stop saying that now.” He lifted my hat and looked at my watch. “I got about forty seconds before I get pulled back.” He dropped my hat. “Come on,” he said and ran inside.

I hate this, and we both know it, but that didn’t stop me following him. I’d spent a lot of time when I was younger trying to figure out how he was doing these minute-long trips, but I never managed to do more than my short time turns. I’d asked Future Turner about it on a previous meeting and he’d simply said “Spoilers”, the annoying git. I still needed to pay attention though. I’d have to do this myself someday, and these visits were usually to deliver cryptic advice that wouldn’t make sense until the right time.

Future Turner led me into our kitchen and opened up my fridge to look inside. “Ha, I still remember when I was like this.” He found it amusing, and I didn’t – yet.

“And the point?” I asked.

“You can learn a lot about a pony from the contents of their fridge,” he quipped. I couldn’t figure out what was so amusing about inter-mold genocide.

Future caught my sceptical look and dropped the amused tone from his voice. “Always check the fridges, that’s important.”

“Alright,” I replied noncommittally and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m just as bad as I remember,” he grumbled at me, before grinning again. “But don’t worry, you get over it.” I blinked twice in response. “Alright, last thing: Siren will be needing your help again soon.”

“Really?” I asked with surprise. “This soon after—“The words caught in my mouth. I sighed and instead said, “Her stupid mental block.”

Future nodded. “This time, you’ll want to have somepony with you. You’ll be rather grateful for the help when the time comes.”

“Noted.”

Sparks started fill the air the air around Future Turner. “Ah, that’s my cue,” Future said and gave me a wave. “Best of luck with your upcoming endeavours.” Light surrounded him. “Oh, and sorry about the mess.”

“What—”

A flash of light filled the room. I was briefly blinded and stumbled backwards on reflex; ramming my flank into my cupboard and knocking a bag of flour from the top shelf down. The bag split open and covered me and the rest of my kitchen in white powder.

The worst part was that I knew he intended to do that.

I groaned loudly as I looked at the mess. “That son of a—Damn it!”

The Pony Who Cannot Possibly Refuse Cake

The morning after the card game, there was only one thing I wanted to do: Sleep in. A simple pleasure I was denied.

At twenty three minutes past eight in the morning, I was woken up by the sound of knocking on my front door. The sound of four knocks echoed throughout my house, and each wave was harder and faster than the last. I groaned, rolled over and covered my head with my sheets. Ignore it, and it’ll go away. After one last desperate series, the knocking stopped. I sighed in relief and relaxed again.

Tap-tap-tap-tap

Now it was at my bedroom window. “Turner, I know you’re in there!” a dreadful voice called. Another four taps and it called out again, “Come on, wake up.”

I curled up and bucked my sheets clear off my bed, rolled, threw myself off the bed and onto my hooves. The pegasus hovering outside my window looked rather happy to see me stomp my way over.

I threw the window open and growled, “What is it, Thunderlane?”

“Dude, I got a date,” he said as he landed.

“Really?” I asked. I was starting to wonder if this was a dream.

“Yeah,” he said, as he seized me by the shoulders. “And I need advice. Like you promised. Because…” he drifted off into babbling about something.

“Lane, please.” I yawned as the adrenalin from my wakeup faded away. “It’s twenty seven past eight in the morning. Talk slowly.”

“Oh, right.” Lane took a breath to calm down. “You remember how you told me to send Merry May an apology for my last date with her?” I nodded slowly and Lane continued, “Well I don’t have any note paper at home, so I decided to tell her myself this morning at the weather team meeting.” A smile crossed his face. “She accepted my apology and when I suggested we try something less dangerous for a date she said dinner, tonight.”

I blinked again and gave my face a rub. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, but I have no idea where to take her.”

I thought about it for a bit. Mornings are not my strong point. “Uhh. What about Pokey’s place?”

Lane’s enthusiasm died a sudden death. “That’s the most expensive place in Ponyville.”

I sighed and rubbed my forehead. “Lane, this is a make-up date. It is not the time for half measures.”

“But, you need to make reservations a week in advance,” he said in some half ditch attempt to save his bits.

I snorted a bitter laugh. “It’s expensive, and they’d never fill all their tables in a town like this. They just say that so they can jack the prices up.” I shrugged. “Just have a word with the maître d and you’ll get seated.”

“You think so?”

I nodded. “I’ll swing around tonight to make sure, and I’ll check in with Pokey so he knows to show you two a good time.” I yawned again. “If that’s all, I think I’m going to go back to bed.” I turned to stumble back toward my bed.

Lane caught me on the shoulder. “Wait, you said you’d give me advice about not screwing this up, again.”

I blinked again as I looked back at his desperate face. “Alright, umm, I’d start on confidence, but you’ve got enough to keep you flying.” Until you hit a mountain. “Just remember this: you’re the one doing the courting. So everything is about her, not you. So ask about her life stories, be interested in what she says, make her night interesting and fun. What happens to you is completely irrelevant.” I gave him a pat on the back. “And if you do everything right, then this chapter of your life will end with a bang.”

“That’s all?” he asked. “Nothing else?” You could hear the sound of his ancestors crying out in desperation through his voice.

“Don’t be nervous,” I added. “You’ll do fine. I’ll also make sure that I’m there tonight to try and stop anything going wrong, but I don’t plan on being your third wheel, Lane. You’ll have to manage on your own for the most part.”

I flipped myself down onto my bed. “Now if you don’t mind, I have to get some more rest before I go see Carrot Top. I seem to remember being told to go see her today.”

“Okay,” Lane said as he backed toward the open window. “Then I’ll see ya tonight.”
I lifted a hoof to wave goodbye and I was asleep before it fell down again.

My alarm clock went off at eleven thirty and got me out of bed. A bath saw me ready for whatever I’d have to deal with today. I spent time thinking while I soaked, mostly schemes for Lane’s date tonight. The biggest problem would be how to interfere in a date I wasn’t in on, and as an observer I was crippled. There were some things I could still try though.

Ten minutes past noon I set off for the farms surrounding Ponyville. The weather was clear except for a few clouds out for special irrigation requests. It keeps the weather team busy.

I passed one farm that was getting a lot of attention and looked up to see if I could figure out who was herding the clouds. I caught a hint of a yellow tail, so I figured it was probably Cloud Kicker’s team.

Before I could pick anypony else out I heard a buzzing sound. Looking down I saw the Cutie Mark Crusaders barrelling past on that scooter setup of theirs. I saw a brief flash of a smirk on their driver’s face before they shot through a mud puddle on the side of the road, and splashed me with a darker shade of brown.

I gazed over my back as they disappeared off into the distance. I added their driver, the orange pegasus, to my mental list of fair targets. All that time in the bathroom just minutes before was ruined. Hopefully Carrot Top wouldn’t mind getting some extra earth with the earth pony.

I kept walking. Right now the best thing I could do was to just keep going along. Vengeance can come later once I’ve decided on some suitable scheme to get back at that filly.

The mud had mostly dried when I reached Carrot Top’s farm. The flat plain of furrowed earth was broken only by the stalks of thousands of root vegetables planted in neat rows. In the middle of this field was Carrot Top herself: She was slowly making her way down a row, picking carrots up by the stalk, and flipping them over her back into the cart behind her.

I stood at her gate watching for a minute. She had the vegetable picking down to a repetitive rote. Hopefully she was daydreaming about something non mind numbing. That sort of thing was why I left my family’s farm.

Her gate was left wide open, the hinges rusted in place, and her mailbox was labelled: Golden Harvest. So, she wanted company, and despite being universally known as Carrot Top she still had to use her original name where postal bureaucracy was concerned.

The gate was open, so I walked right in. Carrot was busy enough with her harvest that she never noticed me as I walked up a path toward her and then as I came up behind her. I stood there for a couple of moments and she still hadn’t noticed me. So I pulled a carrot out of her cart and started chewing on it loudly, mouth open. Carrot Top froze halfway through pulling another carrot up and turned to look over her shoulder.

I swallowed. “Hey there, Golden Harvest.” She didn’t respond at first, probably in awe of me as I leaned casually on the cart while covered in dried mud. On second thought, I probably should have asked somepony on the weather team to drench me to get the mud off.

Seconds passed as she kept staring at me. “I got splashed by the Crusaders my way over,” I explained. “With what was probably the only mud puddle this side of the Everfree.”

She snapped out of her trance., “Yes. Well, a little dirt never hurt anypony.”

I brought a hoof to my chin in thought. “I’m sure Rarity wouldn’t agree with that.” That brought a slight smile to both our faces. Ice broken, I congratulated myself.

“It’s… good to see you,” Carrot said awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d actually accept my invitation.”

I gave her my best reassuring smile. “I couldn’t turn down the offer of cake.” That and the other guys said I should. I decided to throw in a complement as well, “Especially since the last one was so nice.”

“Thank you,” she brightened up into a genuine smile. She looked around, humming in thought before something clicked. “Oh, would you like to go inside?”

I was starting to have my doubts. I mean, in my experience, ponies aren’t usually this nervous around me. I’d wondered if she’d jumped to some conclusion in her own mind, and if so then I had to change her mind before she got the wrong ideas.

“If that’s fine with you, Golden Harvest,” I said formally. I nodded toward the cart., “Assuming that you’re not busy.”

“They can wait.” I assumed she meant the carrots. Harvest turned her cart around. “I don’t think I have a cake ready right now, but there’s a mix ready to cook.” She gave me a smile. “That is, if you’d like another carrot cake?”

The way to a stallion’s heart is through his stomach. “It’s your cake, Harvest,” I said with a shrug. “I’m just sharing a bit with that coffee and conversation you offered.” I started walking slowly and she started pulling her cart alongside me as we walked toward her home.

“Umm, Time Turner,” Carrot Top said. “Why do you keep calling me ‘Harvest’? Most ponies call me Carrot Top.”

“I’ve always preferred to use a pony’s actual name, not what everypony else calls them,” I replied and she threw me a curious look. “There’s something almost magical in how a parent names their foals, because that name helps define what that foal will grow up to be. Perhaps a nudge of destiny inspires a name.” I shrugged. “Or more likely the foal simply decides to live up to their name and receives a mark confirming their choice when they grow older. The exceptions come in when a pony decides to call themselves something else, or when they’re called by another name enough that it sticks and becomes part of their identity.” I noticed that Harvest nodded absentmindedly at the last part.

“You didn’t pick the name ‘Carrot Top’, did you?” My question brought her to a halt as she stopped to think.

‘Carrot Top’ shook her head. There was a touch of wistfulness in her voice as she spoke, “I got it back in school. ‘Golden Harvest’ is a bit of a mouthful, so a lot of the other foals started to call me ‘Carrot’, probably because of my mane.” She gave her curly carrot orange mane a flick. “Soon the teacher called me by that as well, and that was it. I’m used to it, even if I’m not entirely happy with it,” a pouted at the thought and started walking again.

I followed, asking, “Something wrong with ‘Carrot Top’?”

“The top of the Carrot is the bit left behind when the rest is gone.” She sighed. “Sure you can eat it, but the taste gets bitter as it grows larger.”

Quality symbolism right there. I gave her a reassuring smile. “You don’t need to take on every name that ponies give you. Hay, I’ve been given a lot of names over the years by different ponies and I don’t let them define me.” A grin crossed my face, “Though I do like being called, ‘That Bastard’.”

Carrot Top snorted with laughter. “Why would somepony call you that?”

“Well,” a grin covered my face. “She thought she’d managed to get away, but she soon found that I’d switched her prize with a coconut.”

Harvest tilted her head in thought. “How did you know she called you that then?”

“I could hear her scream it from across the harbor.”

Carrot gave me a weird look.

“You had to be there,” I said with a shrug. We came up to Carrot’s farmhouse and she parked her cart. “So, back to what I was saying before: Which name would you prefer?”

She thought as she unhitched herself. “I suppose it’d be nice to be called Golden Harvest again.”

“Good, I can call you ‘Goldie’ for short then,” I said as I walked inside. I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel the hint of frustration as she sighed.

“This is nice.” Nothing says ‘family home’ like a big open space. Carrot Top’s house had what was effectively a single room on the ground floor with kitchen, living and dining in different sections. Then there are the extra details: The dining area was equipped for six, the kitchen had enough bench space to feed a small army, and there was a good selection of couch space in the living area. There were probably a lot of bedrooms upstairs as well.

I wondered where her family was. Farmers don’t usually live alone in family houses.

Carrot was over in the kitchen preheating her charcoal oven to boil the kettle and bake a cake. “Dad built it with help from the other farmers. It didn’t take long. You know how it is with earth pony construction.”

“A song, some hammer time, material from around the farm, and you have a house before the day is out.” Neither unicorn or pegasus could match earth in that field. “Never saw much of that around Trottingham though, only while I was traveling.”

“You never built anything in Trottingham?” Carrot asked, surprise on her face. Ponyville’s regular construction and rebuilding efforts leave us a bit spoilt.

I shook my head. “Trottingham is a town stuck in time. Most of the buildings are a decade or so shy of nine hundred years old.” I smirked, “Earth pony work, build it once and live in it forever.”

Instead of the smile I’d expected, Carrot sighed. “Yeah.”

I decided to bite. “Something wrong, Goldie?”

She gave me a withering look at the sound of her new nickname before going back to a slightly dejected look. “Well, I just miss my family, is all.”

My ears drooped down, Oh dear. I walked into the kitchen area to be supportive, or something. I had no idea what to do if Carrot Top started to cry.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I said. “What happened to them?”

“Well it started last year with my big sister running off to Applewood to be a film star, and my grandparents were getting old. My parents and little sister have gone up there as well, leaving me alone with the farm that I promised to manage without them.” She sighed., “And I have managed, but it’s been hard being on my own.”

I nodded consolingly. “It must be hard losing your parents and sister like that.”

She looked around her house. “I wish Noi could be here at least, she loved baking with me.”
A mental image of Carrot Top making cake mix with an adorable gold coated filly came to mind. It was followed by an image of them eating carrot cookies and then one of them playing together outside.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I said quietly.

“Huh?” Carrot blinked. “What are you sorry about?”

I suddenly felt like I’d swallowed a block of ice. “I’m sorry about the death of your parents and sister?” I asked awkwardly.

“They’re not dead. They’re with my grandparents on their farm near Vanhoover.”

I brought a hoof to my face and groaned while my dignity swan dived off the edge of Canterlot.

“Are you okay, Time Turner?” Carrot Top asked, her voice filled with concern.

“I will be,” I grumbled. “Reset.”

Time flipped backwards. Alright, take two.

I walked into the kitchen again. “I take it that your family is away then?” And not dead.

“My parents went back to my grandparent’s farm outside Vanhoover because they’re getting too old to run it by themselves. They took my little sister with them as well, and my older sister wasn’t interested in running a farm,” she said bitterly. “So I’ve inherited this one to run on my own.”

“Must be hard doing it all by yourself,” I prompted.

“I manage, but it’s been hard and I’ve been getting lonely out here by myself.” It was the response I’d expected. She gave me a smile. “It’s nice to have some company.”

We’re getting into fresh territory again, time for a distraction. I generally try to stall after a Time Turn’s forewarning runs out so it can recharge. Normally that’s around two minutes.

“Well I can’t resist cake. Speaking of which…” I said as I turned around. I decided to take a page from my future book and take a look in the fridge. “Got everything you need?”

The fridge primarily held eggs and milk along with a large assortment of leafy green vegetables that needed to be kept chilled. The eggs and milk were probably for her baking hobby, but she was keeping a stock of them instead of getting it fresh. Carrot was probably too busy to look after chickens. There was also the notable absence of any fruit, including apples, so what Big Mac said about a rivalry between the farms seemed likely enough.

The fridge was also clean, and everything not intended for baking was only kept in small quantities. I would have continued my analysis but I felt a pull on my tail and was yanked out of the fridge. Carrot, my tail in her mouth, shut the fridge door.

When I looked back at her, Carrot looked indignant for a moment before realising what she’d just done. “Sorry, but I can’t let you in my fridge like that,” she said. “You’ll get dirt all over everything.”

“Huh?” Then it clicked. I looked back at myself, “Oh, that.” I was still covered in mud by the Cutie Mark Crusaders Drive Byers. How quickly we forget.

“I can’t really sell food if my kitchen’s dirty,” she explained uncomfortably before she brightened up. “You know what, why not go out and have a quick shower. I’ll put the cake mix in the oven and make some tea while you’re gone.”

“Coffee please, if you have it.” I looked around, I hadn’t noticed before but there was still only one room on the ground floor with a staircase up to the loft. “Um, so where’s the bathroom?”

Carrot almost blushed as she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly, “It’s outside. Just go out the back door, and you’ll see.”

I nodded and went out the back door to find this alleged bathroom.

The farm on the other side of the house was more of the same, with the addition of an outhouse for a toilet. That wasn’t the bathroom though, the bathroom was a shower head attached to the water pipe that lead out of a rainwater tank and into the kitchen. Under the shower head was a drain opening that probably led out to a dam somewhere.

While earth pony construction does tend to be solid and rapidly built, it’s not always well planned. Case in point, Carrot Top’s father seemed to have forgotten that his house needed a bathroom and just tacked it on outside instead. The unicorns must be laughing.

I tried to turn the handle to open the valve but it wouldn’t budge. I frowned as the earth pony’s first rule came to mind, ‘When in doubt, buck it’. I turned and gave it a kick. As you might expect, the valve slammed open and the shower drenched me in water.

I rinsed myself down quickly in the cold water. As you might guess, this shower wasn’t connected to the town’s communal hot water supply either. To be fair, if you’d been out in the fields working all day and wanted a quick rinse without treading mud inside, this was ideal. I imagine there was a portable bathtub somewhere that could be dragged out when somepony wanted a more thorough wash.

Once I was clean I shut the water off and shook myself dry. Oh, this gave me flashbacks. I mussed my mane around so it would stand up straight and went back inside. As I went back toward the door I heard a clatter of hooves, and when I opened it I found Carrot sitting at her table with a coffee pot doing her best to seem nonchalant. I guessed she’d been peeking out the window, but I wasn’t going to call her on it. Well, not directly.

She gave me a little wave as I came inside. “How was your shower?”

“Breezy,” I summed up in a word. “Though I’m surprised that you’d use that shower, Goldie. You’d be forever wondering if you’re being watched.” Her face twitched a little. So she was watching. I suppose I should take it as a compliment, but it mostly confirmed my earlier guess that Carrot was scoping me out.

“It’s not like there’s anything to hide,” she said reasonably.

“Speak for yourself. A lot of stallions like the wet mane look,” I returned on reflex. Wait. That came out wrong…

Carrot smiled. “Would you like some coffee?” She asked as she pointed at the pot, milk and a small plate of biscuits. I nodded and she took up the pot in her mouth to pour us our drinks.

“Actually,” I began. “Showering like that reminds me of back when I was living rough and washing myself in rivers or streams.”

Carrot’s eyes widened and she put the pot down to say, “You were homeless?”

I snorted. “Well ‘homeless’ implies I didn’t have anywhere to go, I just didn’t want to stop. Besides, I always had the option of going home.” I tilted my head in thought. “Still do really.”

Carrot pushed a cup of coffee over and the milk jug over. I added a civilized amount of milk to my coffee while she asked, “So, what were you doing?”

I put the milk down. “It’s a long story, I’ll be babbling for a while if you want to hear it.”

“Cake’s going to be a while. We’ve got time.”

“Alright,” I said, and took a drink from my coffee cup.

“I’ve already mentioned I’m from Trottingham, and you might have noticed the accent as well,” I said and Carrot nodded. “Well, Trottingham is one of the oldest earth pony towns, dating back to the original migration and beginning of Equestria. However, it hasn’t grown and remains more or less how it always was. Most kids leave once they grow up and head to one of the bigger cities carrying the ‘Trottingham Way’ with them. We think of ourselves as a bastion of culture and we spread it out to make sure the rest of Equestria doesn’t get boring.” I laughed a bit. “One example is the running joke is that the Trottingham accent isn’t an accent: It’s how this language is supposed to sound when spoken properly.”

I shook my head as I remembered home, a smile on my face. “My family lives just outside town on a wheat farm. We use older varieties and grind up the flower ourselves. We sell most of it to high class gourmet bakers in Canterlot.

“I’m the middle child of three siblings. My parents decided to go with a naming theme for us, so we’re all called Turner. My older sister is Mill – or Millie – and she’s going to inherit the farm someday. I was next, Time Turner, and unlike my older sister I was terrible at farming. Last is my younger sister Page, and she’s trying to become a playwright at the Horseshoe Theatre in the town itself.”

“The Horseshoe Theatre?” Carrot asked. “Isn’t that where Spear Shaker did all those plays?”

“Spear Carrier,” I corrected. “That’s where all of them were first performed, ‘Macintosh’, ‘Hamlet’, “Roamer and Tulip’, and so on. Even to this day it’s still tradition for the playwright or director to walk on stage, say one line, and then walk offstage. A ‘spear carrier’, carrying on the old tradition. Everypony in Trottingham knows those old stories by heart, but I’m getting off topic.

“I mentioned before I’m terrible at farming. To borrow a unicorn term, I’d be rated around epsilon in terms of earth magic. Weak enough that I might as well be a pegasus or unicorn when it comes to plants.” That was my curse. My talent for time turning left me without much in the way of ‘normal’ earth pony ability.

I got a sympathetic look from Carrot before she narrowed her eyebrows in thought. “How do you look after your garden then? Yours is fairly well tended.”

“I get Rose to do it,” I said honestly. “I let her grow flowers for her market stall, and it keeps everything looking nice. Moving on. Since my older sister had the farm covered, I decided to follow an old tradition and go on tour.”

“Tour? Like a band.”

I shrugged, “In the more traditional sense. Basically a young pony leaves home to see Equestria, find out what’s out there and learn from it. I told my family what I planned and the day after I graduated from school I set off with their blessing.” I brought hoof to chin as I remembered. “I travelled by hoof over the Unicorn Ranges just to the north of Trottingham with a set of saddlebags on my back. I ate grass, slept under the stars, and swam across rivers as I travelled.

“I stopped at inns and washed dishes to earn something more filling than grass for dinner. Sometimes I solved a few ‘problems’”– I said with air quotes– “while passing through and got gifts in return. I kept traveling from town to town and solving more problems. Occasionally other ponies would join me for a while, but soon we’d part ways when they found something to stop for, while I lived for what was over the horizon.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Carrot Top said dreamily. “What made you stop?”

“Well, the thing about traveling is that you start picking up souvenirs. I couldn’t carry everything anymore, and so I started to settle down. I started with a place in Canterlot near the train station where I’d keep my trophies, and soon it became a home to rest at between travels.” I emptied my coffee cup and filled it up again from the pot.

“So why are you in Ponyville then?”

I sighed. “Did you want a refill?” I nodded at Carrot’s cup. She nodded and I filled it for her. I put the pot down and rubbed my forehead. “Friends come and go, but enemies accumulate,” I quoted. “I ‘inconvenienced’ a lot of the nastier types out there, and soon they were actively coming for me and anypony associated with me. So I was forced to go into hiding. An ally of mine suggested Ponyville: It’s still centrally located and small enough that I can keep track of who’s from around here, and who’s not,” I finished darkly and then lent forward against the table to rest my chin on my fore hooves. “Nothing wrong with Ponyville, but I miss traveling.” Celestia, I sounded bitter. But in those days I couldn’t leave Ponyville without pissing somepony off, and gradually my adopted home had become more my cage.

A clarion call sounded from the kitchen to break me out of my funk. The oven timer had declared the cake was ready.

We both stood and made for the kitchen. Carrot Top beat me there and gingerly pulled it out of the oven while I stood dumbly behind her enjoying the smell. Then with the fine motion of experience, Carrot took the cake pan, held between her hooves, and flipped it over. The cake fell out, bounced off the bench, and onto a waiting plate. I whistled, impressed at the display and wondering how many times it had taken to get that right.

Next was the icing. Carrot had a bowl of the white goodness sitting on the bench already. It was the work of moments for her to cover it and she gave me a smile as she got the final touch out of a cupboard: Walnuts. She shook the box over the cake and sprinkled them across it.

Finished she stepped aside and asked me, “You want it?”

“I need it.”

We slowly worked our way through the cake and another pot of coffee. We talked for a few hours across a breadth of subjects: making our way from the intricacies of carrot farming, milling, then windmill design, clock design, and then somehow we ended up comparing the princesses.

I was all for Princess Luna: the old speech patterns and manner straight from a Spear Carrier performance won me right over. I blame nostalgia. Unfortunately I wasn’t in Ponyville during Luna’s Nightmare Night appearance, much to my disappointment.

Carrot was, surprisingly, a supporter of Princess Cadenza. Apparently Carrot met the young princess when she’d visited Vanhoover, and placed a large order of carrots from the family farm while Carrot was there. She felt that Cadance was very nice, kind, honest, upfront, and she suspected the princess might once have been an earth pony. I knew differently, but I wasn’t going to disabuse her of those notions.

It was starting to get late when we finished the cake. “I really like those walnuts,” I said while giving my belly a satisfied rub.

Carrot glowed in the light of my complement. “If you want to stay for dinner I can whip up something nice.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, but I’ve got a date tonight.”

I watched a flash of disappointment cross Carrot’s face before she hid it. She swallowed and asked, “So, who is the lucky girl?”

I couldn’t resist. “It’s Thunderlane actually.” Carrot’s eye twitched. “I’m going to try to get him into Pokey’s place for dinner.”

Her face was blank for a few moments before she gave me a polite little smile and said, “That sounds nice. Is this a first date?”

“No it’s a second date, actually,” I said matter-of-fact. “Lane botched his last one with Merry May, so I’m going to do my best to make sure their date doesn’t fall flat on its face this time.”

Carrot blinked, “Oh.” A surprised tone crept into her voice as she asked, “Thunderlane’s dating Merry May?”

“Yeah he is.” Something about her response nagged at me. “Is there something wrong?”

“Merry’s my weather pony,” Carrot explained. “We were talking a few days ago, and when she brought up her date on Hearts and Hooves day I said she should try again.”

Now it was my turn to be surprised. “I told Lane to apologize to Merry last night, and now they’re trying again.” I tapped the table idly, “I said I would help, but there’s not much I can do without being on the date myself.”

Looking back over at Carrot, I saw what might have been a look of revelation. Her mouth fell open before curling up into a grin. “We join them!”

“Pardon?”

“We go with them, on a double date,” she said before elaborating, “I look after Merry, you look after Lane, and we’ll make sure they have a good time.”

I considered this for a moment. “You know, ponies will start to think we’re dating.”

Carrot shrugged. “Nothing wrong with that.”

Well, I did promise Thunderlane. “Alright, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

She pushed her chair out and stood up. “I’ll just go do my mane up, and I’ll be back in just a minute.” She ran off upstairs, while I was left waiting with the empty coffee pot.

I took the pot over to the kitchen to refill it. Somehow I knew she’d be up there for a while.

We were waiting outside Pokey’s place when Thunderlane and Merry May flew down to meet us. Carrot had done her mane and tail done up with a few extra curls and put on some perfume I couldn’t identify.

“Hello, Lane,” I said as he landed in front of me.

“Uh, hey, bud.” He looked over at Carrot and stepped closer to talk quietly. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Carrot Top and I decided to go out to dinner.” I gave Lane a sly smile. “It just so happens we’re going to the same restaurant.” I winked at him. “Perhaps we should share a table.”

Right now Carrot was whispering a similar suggestion to Merry. If you want ponies to go along with a scheme, then just make them think they’re in on the big secret. I caught Carrot and Merry glancing at us while Lane thought about it.

“Okay, bud. If you think it’ll work.” Lane turned and led us over to the girls. “Hey, Merry, you okay with having these two join us?”

Merry turned to give Carrot an only slightly obvious wink before saying, “Sure, It’ll be nice.” The two mares giggled together.

Lane and I gave each other a worried glance.

“Shall we go inside?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Lane replied.

The pair of us led while the girls followed, whispering to each other.

We walked into the doorway and stood waiting for the maître d' to seat us. Looking around, I noticed the restaurant wasn’t even half full and most of the tables remained unoccupied. After leaving us to wait for three minutes, the maître d' strode up to us with his nose held in the air. He wore a fastidiously well fitted suit and pencil thin moustache that had to be a fake.

He took his spot behind the podium. “Can I help you?”

“Table for four,” I asked. “In a corner if possible.”

He regarded me and my companions. “I am afraid zat is quite impossible,” he said with an upturned nose. “We are full tonight and for ze next week. Would you like to make a reservation instead?”

I regarded him blankly. “So you’re a ‘glass is more than half full’ kind of guy.” I looked around again, “Call me pessimistic, but you don’t look full.”

“I assure you, sir, zat we are quite full.” He primped himself up. “It would be impossible to seat you all tonight.”

“Nothing’s impossible,” I said and added inwardly, I should know. “It would be a little more effort than usual, but it’s also an opportunity to be tipped with a little more effort than usual,” I gave him a nod as I mentioned the tip.

The maître d' glared at me. “Are you trying to insinuate that I would diminish ze service zat we provide for a little money?”

“I was, but apparently I need to upgrade to a lot of money.”

“I am shocked, sir,” he said as he put his hoof down. “Our reputation means nothing to you, and so now I must ask you to leave.”

“We’ll be back.” I turned and walked out, motioning with my head for the others to follow.

We gathered outside the restaurant and Merry asked, “So what now?”

“Plan B,” I grumbled. I sighed. “I’ll be back in five or so minutes and we’ll have our table. Just wait out here and…” I shrugged, “get to know each other I suppose.”

“You’re going to talk to Pokey aren’t you?” Thunderlane asked.

“Ehyup.”

Lane snorted, “Good luck.”

“Yeah,” I said as I turned to walk around the back. “I just hope he’s in a good mood.”

I walked around to the staff entrance at the back of the restaurant, cleverly hidden behind a bush. In larger cities there are alleyways to hide the necessary back door and cart unloading dock. In the sparser areas all you could do was try to hide it from the customer’s view.

There were other uses for the privacy the bush granted. I found a pony sitting on the doorstep with an apron over her shoulder and chef hat on the ground in front of her. She didn’t look at, or acknowledge me as she stared off into the distance.

I stepped around her and through the back door into the kitchen.

“Pumpkin!” Somepony yelled as I shut the door behind me. “Do you know what this risotto is missing?”

“No, chef.”

“Pumpkin, that’s what it’s missing, Pumpkin. How can ye forget that? It’s ya bucking name. And it’s emblazoned on ya flank,” The unicorn holding the incomplete dish gave the mare’s mark a poke with a spoon.

“I’ll fix it, chef.”

“Good, that’s what I like to hear, and next time put a bit more salt in with the pasta too.”

The unicorn chef put the dish down on the bench and turned to look toward me, “I hope ya came to your senses ya—what the buck are you doing back here?” He said when he saw it was me at the door.

“Hello, Pokey,” I said neutrally. If there’s one thing that Pokey’s good at doing, it’s poking holes in things. Balloons might dread his approach, but it’s the other things that he can poke that have helped him run his restaurant. He’s a harsh critic and a perfectionist who learned to cook from the infamous Royal Chef, Ram Sea. Unfortunately he also picked up his kitchen management skills from his former mentor.

“Get out, ya sorry excuse for an interloper. I got a bucking—“

I cut him off before he could start rolling, “Pokey, drop it. I need a favour.”

Pokey’s eyes narrowed and he looked around to see who else was watching before he stalked forward to me. “What kind of favour?” He asked quietly.

“The returnable kind,” I replied. It was a little phrase used by members of the Gentlecolt’s Club. Saying that was basically a guarantee to return the favor, or risk my membership and honor.

“What is it, Time Turner?”

“I need a table for four. Thunderlane and I are here with Merry May and Carrot Top on a date,” I summed up. Pokey’s face scrunched up as he considered it. “It’s not like you’re short on tables,” I added.

He rolled his eyes, “It’s not about tables, I have to provide a service to my existing customers. And it has to be perfect,” he hissed. “I only have two assistants and one’s blubbing on the back-step like a filly.” His eyes flicked to the side and as I followed them I noticed that Pokey was still cooking as we spoke. “Things are getting tetchy enough back here. I can’t spare the time.”

“I’m not asking for perfection, Pokey,” I countered. I snorted. “Beggars can’t be choosers, take what time you need, we can wait, and we won’t complain if our meal doesn’t meet your standards.”

“If it were that easy I’d have sat ya flanks down already.” He started cutting up an onion from across the room. “As for time ya eatin’ it now.”

“Look who’s talking to who about time,” I said. “If you’d used a bit of it to think, you’d see the obvious solution.”

“Yeah, come back tomorrow and I’ll seat ya then.” He moved to turn and I followed him around to stand in front of him. “Get out of the way.”

I pointed over his shoulder, “You just need to get your other assistant back in the kitchen, Pokey.”

“Not gonna happen, Banana Fluff has fluffed up for the last time.” Pokey shook his head in disappointment. “She doesn’t want to try anymore, and I can’t be bothered forcing her.”

I thought for a moment. “Give her a challenge then.”

“What?” Pokey looked at me like I was mad.

“Here’s what I’ll do. I convince… Banana, wasn’t it? To come back inside and try again.” I pointed out towards the restaurant itself. “She takes things easy and manages our table alone, while you deal with everypony else. She gets her confidence back, we’ll shower her with praise to cheer her up, and you won’t have to find a new assistant chef.” I shrugged. “Easy.”

Pokey looked over his shoulder at the door. “I suppose this would count at that favour.”

“If you wouldn’t mind.” I shrugged. “Think of it this way, it’s a chance for her to make or break: If she fails, we both lose. If she succeeds then we both win.”

Pokey grunted. “Alright, but if ya convince her to come back in here I won’t have time ta help her.”

“That’ll be fine,” I said. Anyway, your help is the last thing she needs right now. Pokey’s a good critic, but sometimes you need to throw somepony a carrot and lay off the pointed stick.

“Go get her then,” Pokey said and returned to his workstation.

I went over to the door and stood waiting on the inside while I figured out how I was going to pep talk Banana Fluff into cooking again. I picked up a half full bottle of wine sitting open on a bench and went outside.

Banana Fluff was still staring off into the distance when I came out. She’d probably been sitting there while her mind fought a re-enactment of the Lunar Rebellion within itself. She looked like she needed a quick bit of courage, a pep talk, and a carrot.

I put the bottle on the ground in front of her and sat down on the doorstep. It’s always good to start with a joke, “There’s an old earth pony saying: ‘Never play leapfrog with a unicorn’.”

I chuckled quietly to myself and she turned her head a bit to glare at me out the corner of her eye. Whoops, I thought when I realized that I’d completely missed the banana yellow horn half hidden in her purple mane.

“What?” I said as she kept glaring. “It’s valuable advice, and it’s no good doing it with a pegasus either, they cheat.” Her glare relaxed a little and I pulled some pseudo-philosophical sounding argument together. “It’s all about the fundamental differences between ponies, and those don’t really change. Pokey Pierce is always going to be a loud ass and working for him will never be easy.” I shook my head, “He’s forever poking holes in things: whether it’s your ideas, your work, or your dreams. That’s a major part of what he is. The key thing is being able to consider what he’s saying, use it to patch the holes, and carry on.”

“You say that,” Banana said quietly. “But you don’t have to work with him every day.” There wasn’t much life in that voice, but getting it out was progress.

“No I don’t,” I admitted. “But neither do you. He’s your boss, you work despite him.”

A slight smile came to her face. “I try”. Her face fell again. “But nothing ever seems to go right in there. I keep making mistakes and he never lets them go.” She noticed the wine bottle in front of her and took a swig from it.

“Ms Fluff, there’s another earth pony saying I’d like you to hear. ‘From the ashes of disaster, grow the roses of success.’” I gave her a smile. “If you know that you make mistakes, then you’re doing something right.” I stood up. “Banana Fluff, I’m here to give you an opportunity.” She looked up at me. “Standing at the front door is a group of four ponies who have been told there’s no table for them. What I want you to do is to: get them a table, take their orders and fill them.”

“Won’t Pokey stop me?”

I shook my head. “He won’t stop you or interfere, he’s too busy, and if you do well then you’ll have proven to yourself that you can run a restaurant.” A smile crossed my face. “And if, for some reason, that you decide to open your own…” I shrugged. “Well, this place can’t handle enough ponies, so Ponyville probably needs another restaurant anyway.” I gave her a wink. “Just tell the mayor that Time Turner suggested you go see her, and she’ll see to it that you get approval.”

There was a look of dawning realization on her face, perhaps a glimpse of a dream she thought crushed. I started to walk away and called back over my shoulder, “Also, you might want to go easy on that bottle, you’ll probably need it for cooking.”

I went back around the front and found Thunderlane standing apart with his back to the two mares, who were talking in that hushed tone saved for girl talk. Lane was doing his best to look disinterested while also concentrating on turning his ears to try and listen in.

I looped around and quietly came up into his blind spot him. A small smile crossed my face as I crept forward and said, “Hey, Lane!” Lane started slightly and his wings flared out a bit before he caught them.

Lane casually turned around and said, “Hey, Turner,” pretending that I hadn’t made him jump. “Did you catch Pokey in a good mood?”

“I was out of balloons,” I replied. “But I did manage to wrangle us a table.”

There was a flash of relief on Lane’s face before a different thought hit him. “Uhhh, what did you promise him in return?” He flicked his eyes around. “I don’t need to—“

“No, nothing like that,” I said and Lane relaxed again. Some of the rumours floating around about Pokey Pierce weren’t very flattering. “Anyway, it isn’t him that I did a deal with. We got one of his assistants.”

“Okay then.” Thunderlane started trying to listen in on Merry May and Goldie again. I glanced over at the pair myself, they were still chatting animatedly at a volume just above a whisper that I couldn’t make out. Every now and then, one or both would shoot a glance at us.

“What have they been talking about?” I asked Lane.

“Can’t say, bud. They drifted away after you left and clam up if they think I can hear them.” He looked over his shoulder at them. “I think they’re planning something,” he said quietly.

The mares noticed us looking and turned away, blocking any chance of hearing them. “Probably some form of nightmarish villainy,” I said seriously. “Involving carrots and enforced merriness.”

Lane snorted. “The merriment will last forever!” He drew out in a reasonable impression of one of the town’s less welcome guests.

“And the Ponyville shall be the carrot capital of the world,” I finished with a shake of my head. Terrible jokes aside there was something serious to ask. “How are you holding up, Lane?”

“Hmm?” He said with a surprised look on his face. “I’m fine.”

“Then why aren’t you over there talking to them?”

Lane shot a glance over his shoulder again. “There’ll be plenty of time once we’re inside. I’m just saving myself. For later.”

“Sure, and I’m sure you remember what I said this morning?”

“It’s all about her.”

“Yes.” I nodded. “Be as much of a gentlecolt as possible and listen to everything she says, she might quiz you on it. Make her happy and perhaps she’ll forget freaking out after your Ghastly Gorge run.”

“Yeah, well… that shouldn’t be hard.” He rubbed the back of his head. “Like, she’s always happy, it’s kinda her thing.”

“Good. Then you won’t—”

“Oh, boys,” we were called. “Our table’s ready.”

We turned to look and I saw Banana Fluff, in a new apron and hat, standing with the girls by the door. There was a flash of surprise on Banana’s face when she caught sight of me and I winked back as we walked over.

“Good evening sirs,” Banana greeted us with a quick curtsy. “I apologize for the delay in seating you. My name is Banana Fluff, and I shall be your chef for tonight.” She pointed a hoof toward the door. “Please, follow me.”

We entered as dinner was starting. Most of the other tables already had their meals and the maître d' was returning from the kitchen with another table’s food held in his magic. The decorations, I should probably say decor, was an attempt to seem rustic, but upmarket at the same time. The walls were kept a light wood colour with dark pink highlights, and regular paintings of landscapes were everywhere.

“You know,” I remarked aloud. “You could make an open air restaurant and save on construction costs while providing a better decor.” I noticed Banana’s ears flicking as she listened.

“You’d have trouble with weather,” Lane countered.

“Cloud roof?”

Lane nodded. “You could do that and it’d look nice too. I could easily set that sort of thing up, but if you wanted a real work of art you’d want Cloud Kicker to make it.”

I looked over at Lane. “Does she cloud sculpt in her spare time?” I knew Cloud was good with her namesake material, but I had no idea she could sculpt the things.

“Sometimes,” Merry May said. “Mostly stuff for cloud houses, and sometimes she carves something when’s she’s bored at work. They look really good, but I don’t think she actually practices it.”

“They’re not really for display,” Lane added as a dopey grin crossed his face. “I like’em, but Blossomforth has a fit everytime she sees one.”

“Uh.” Carrot looked over at Thunderlane. “Why doesn’t she like them?”

“Because Cloud always makes—“

I stuck a hoof over his mouth. “We’re in public.”

“What gives?” Lane asked while he pushed my hoof down. “They’re just made from Blossom’s cloud, that’s all.”

The table we arrived at was round with four chairs, set up on the empty side of the restaurant. A fruit bowl with bananas and grapes was thoughtfully provided as well.

I stepped forward pulled out a chair and nodded politely to Carrot Top. She thanked me and sat down. Thunderlane took my example and did the same for Merry May. Merry’s wings fluffed a bit and her smile widened as Lane presented her a seat with a wingspread bow.

Once we were seated, Banana Fluff’s horn lit and four menus flew across the room, enclosed in purple magic. “Here are your menus.” she passed them to each of us. “My chef special for tonight is a roast pumpkin and garlic jambalaya, served with a side of fresh garden salad.”

“I’ll take that,” I said with a hoof held up. The name sounded funny, I’d never had it before, and it’d help build up Banana’s confidence. If you’re going to eat at the most expensive restaurant in town you might as well try something different.

The others agreed with my choice and selected the same dish. A grin broke through Banana’s tableside manner as she excused herself and she nearly skipped back to the kitchen.

“She seemed to like you, Time Turner,” Merry May said from across the table.

“Yeah, bud,” Lane agreed with his date. “She kept looking at ya when she said stuff.”

“Really?” I blinked. “I didn’t notice.”

“Probably, because your view of the world revolves around you,” Merry teased.

I put my eyebrow up for a quizzical look and said, “There’s another way for me to view the world?” I pointed a hoof at my face. “I’ve only got one pair of eyes.”

Merry shrugged. “Good point.”

Carrot peeked over her shoulder at the kitchen. “So why was the chef so concerned about you then?”

I reached over to the fruit basket for a bunch of grapes and said, “She’s trying to impress me because I said I might get her permission to open her own restaurant.”

Carrot’s head flicked back around. “You can do that?”

I nodded. “I just need to convince the mayor to do it.” I bit a few grapes off the bunch on my plate.

“I’ve been trying to get permission to build a new barn on my farm for months,” Carrot complained. “And you say you can get that sort of permission like that?” She clicked her hoof on the table top.

“Yeah,” I admitted. “The mayor usually agrees to anything you tell her will bring in more tax, improve the town, or will make her look good at the next election.”

“Could you talk to the mayor for me?” she asked.

“Sure,” I nodded. “I’ll ask her tomorrow.”

“Thanks, I’ll try to make it up to you.”

“No need, you’ve given me enough cake today to get a favour,” I replied. It was good cake.

Getting permission for a barn raise would be quick and painless. Out here in Ponyville it was mostly just letting the town know so the records could be updated, but in the major cities everything would be scrutinized: The quality of the construction, the location, drainage, tax rates, and even ensuring it was in keeping with the local aesthetic. In Ponyville it just had to look a little rustic and you were golden. Getting permission for a restaurant would be a little more difficult. The mayor would probably want me to do a little community service or a task none of the other ponies in town hall wanted to do.

A few minutes later the kitchen door opened and Banana Fluff came out again with a wine bottle and glasses. She left the bottle in the centre of the table with a set of glasses.

“With the complements of the chef.” She curtsied again. “Your meals will be ready in fifteen minutes. Is there anything else?”

Carrot put a hoof up. “Do you have any carrot juice?”

Banana nodded, “I believe we do. I’ll go get that for you.” The chef turned and returned to the kitchen.

“Carrot juice.” Merry shook her head, “Do you eat or drink anything else?”

“What?” she said as she looked around. “I take pride in my produce.”

“Like the Apples,” Thunderlane said as he took a cue from his date. “I’ve never seen Mac eat or drink anything but apples: apples for breakfast, apple-pie for lunch, apple-crumble for dessert.” A grin crossed Lane’s face. “He probably even pisses apple juice.”

I couldn’t help but snicker at the thought, but Thunderlane was laughing his flank off at his own joke. It was funny, and it explained why Mac’s bathroom smelled like apples, but Lane was too busy laughing to notice that the girls weren’t.

It took a minute for him to stop laughing. As soon as he started to slow he’d splutter something about the joke and laugh louder again. The girls looked at him like he’d gone insane. I sat there considering a time turn, but it seemed a bit pointless.

Then everything boiled down into one of those awkward silences as Thunderlane’s laughter faded. I took a moment to appreciate it. It’s hard to find good awkwardness; I could almost scoop it out the air and sell it to pranksters looking to ruin a Canterlot party.

It wasn’t long before Thunderlane started looking around for an escape; something, anything that would break the silence before he was forced to leap out a window and flee into the night. As he looked toward me I rolled my eyes around to get his attention and nodded slightly toward the wine bottle. He caught my look, noticed the bottle and looked back at me. I nodded.

He picked up the bottle saying, “Um, anypony wanna drink?” I nodded toward Merry and Lane turned to her, “Merry, would you like…?” He bounced the bottle in his hooves.

The normal smile Merry wore returned to her face. “Thank you, Thunderlane. That would be nice.”

Lane brought the bottle to his mouth, pulled the cork out, and then he used a wing to bring over Merry’s glass. While he poured, I leaned forward to push the glasses from my side of the table over. “While you’re up, Lane,” I said cheerfully.

Lane dutifully followed through without grumbling, while Carrot gave me an annoyed flick with her tail. I noticed she was giving me a disapproving look from the corner of my eye. I slid her glass, now full, back over to her. “Sorry, I forgot about the carrot juice.”

I took a sip from my own glass. The taste was very fruity, but it left a burn on the way down. It was sweet, yet quite strong afterwards. “It’s good,” I said, my voice was a little hoarse.

Encouraged, Carrot Top tried it as well. “Where’s this one from?”

Lane spun the bottle around. “Berry Punch, about six years ago.”

“Oh that makes sense,” Carrot replied.

“Hm?” Lane and I said, expecting great wisdom.

“It’s from before she got on the wagon and cleaned up a bit.” One of Carrot’s ears flicked. “She used to drink more.”

“She drank more?” Thunderlane asked skeptically. I’d only been in Ponyville a few years, so this was news to me as well.

“Yeah,” Carrot nodded. “Then she cut back for some reason. Since then she’s brought down the amount of alcohol in her wine. She still drinks a lot, but she doesn’t let herself get really drunk anymore.”

“That’s good of her,” Merry said.

“Any idea why she cut back?” I asked. Sure that was nice to hear, but ponies are creatures of habit and rarely change without a good reason. That made me curious.

Carrot shrugged. “She never told me. But the thing is, this wine?” She tapped her glass. “It’s probably one of the last bottles she made at the old strength, and it’s rare now.”

I looked at the glass with a little more appreciation. I took another sip, this time trying to taste it properly. I wonder if Pokey noticed Banana making off with one of his best wine bottles. That aside, I made another mental note to find out what happened to make Berry clean up.

The kitchen doors opened and Banana Fluff came out with a half dozen objects held in her magic above her. She’d never admit it, but it looked like she was struggling to hold it all and wore a slight grimace on her face as she walked over.

“The chef’s special jambalaya with garden salad,” Banana said as she put plates in front of us. “A bottle of carrot juice.” That she gave to Carrot. “And a complimentary serving of sourdough bread,” she added as she left a further pair of plates between the pairs of us. She bowed to us. “I hope you will enjoy your meals.”

As Banana left she took the covers off our plates and left us to bask in the smell of our food. Jambalaya is very thick stew mix: made from rice, a lot of vegetables, and a lot of spices. Thunderlane and I were tied for the first to go face first into it.

I savoured a mouthful and swallowed. “Oh this is brilliant.” I ran my tongue around my mouth to try and pick up some of the leftover sauce.

“It’s just so… thick,” Thunderlane said, before he took up another mouthful. “I can really taste this,” I think he said as he spoke while tasting it.

The girls weren’t as enthusiastic as us guys. They took smaller bites while trying to avoid covering their muzzles in sauce. Thunderlane and I on the other hoof were card carrying stallions, and had no such shame. Lane added a slice of the sourdough bread to his bowl as well.

“You know what’s awesome?” Thunderlane said between swooping attacks on his meal. “I can’t even taste any sugar.” I had to agree, normally around here ponies tend to think that flavour equals more sugar – Sugar Cubed Corner being a prime example. It was nice to have something earthier.

“Boys, it’s not a race.” Thunderlane and I stopped. Merry May’s smile had gone thin – practically a frown for her. “We’re in public, you know.”

I looked around. Most of the dinner guests had finished their own meals and left. The rest were more interested in their desserts. But mares always assume that other ponies are watching and are criticizing everything they do. Far more likely they just think we’re unimportant, and thus not their problem.

Bowing to the whims of his date, Thunderlane sat back up and wiped his mouth clean. “Sorry.” Merry smiled a bit more and led him off into a conversation about weather work.

Carrot Top looked at me expectantly. I shrugged and finished the rest of my wine instead – it went well with the food. I reached over to get the wine bottle for a refill, and as I was pouring I noticed Carrot’s glass was empty. “Want some more?”

Carrot looked up from her plate, at the unopened carrot juice and then at the bottle in my hooves. “Yes, that would be nice.”

I leaned over with the bottle neck in my mouth and topped our glasses. Carrot held a hoof up to her glass for a toast and I did the same. “To your carrot juice,” I said.

“To Berry’s wine,” she echoed. We tapped our hooves against the glasses with nice clink sound from our shoes. Then we drank again. I was starting to feel a pleasant buzz.

“Think things are going well?” I asked Carrot with a nod toward the other two who were talking between themselves.

“Nothing’s blown up,” Carrot said with a shrug. “It’s been a nice day so far. If we hadn’t come here I’d have just made myself some carrot soup, had a bath, and gone to bed.” She finished her drink. “Thanks for making things interesting.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t seen the bill.”

Carrot Top froze. Her eyes staring off into the distance and her pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Oh dear.”

“The farm not making too much money?” I asked quietly.

She shook her head. “I can’t harvest and sell carrots at the same time.”

“Considered hiring some help?”

Carrot slumped down against the table. “I keep thinking about it. It would give me more time, and probably help the farm turn a better profit, but it’s always been…” Her hoof twirled in the air as she tried to find the right word.

“Something you wanted to keep in the family?” I supplied and Carrot nodded. It’s practically the biggest problem in earth pony farming families. We take great pride in the produce, but it goes to our heads and we can’t imagine anypony else can do it as well as us.

“You’re in a bad way Carrot, you’re alone out there and you nearly had a panic attack over paying for dinner just now.” I tried to be the voice of reason. “Sometimes you just need the extra pony power, and I think I can help.”

“I thought you were terrible at farming.”

“I am, but I know ponies that are much better at it.” I topped up our glasses again. “Tell you what, I’ll talk to Caramel. He’s always looking for extra work. If that’s not enough, then there’s got to be somepony else in town looking for a job.”

Carrot hummed in thought. “It would be nice to have somepony to talk to out in the field.”

“See, I don’t even need to convince you.” I said cheerfully and gave her a pat on the back. “You already knew. You just needed to admit it to yourself.”

Carrot Top smiled to herself. “I don’t need to burn myself out like Applejack did last year, do I?”

“No, you don’t.” I looked around and lent forward to whisper, “Anyway, I’m well informed that she doesn’t do as much as she says she does. It’s Big Mac that does all the work while Applejack’s off gallivanting around with the other elements.”

Carrot Top giggled. “You know, I always wanted to ask him out someday, but my parents always had this thing against the Apples. Not that I could get past Applejack anyway.”

“Well, Cheerilee seems to be working on it, and if anypony can deal with stubborn, it’s her.”

Carrot’s face fell. “Yeah. Cheerilee.”

I gave her a reassuring shrug. “You win some, you lose some. Anyway, Cheerilee hasn’t won yet. You can wait.”

“I guess so.” Carrot refilled her glass with more wine. I couldn’t blame her, it was good stuff.

I took the bottle to refill my glass once Carrot finished, and was disappointed to find only a trickle left. “When did the wine disappear?” Carrot shrugged, and sipped at her glass. I noticed the pegasi had half-filled glasses and so I figured that they’d refilled theirs as well.

I returned to what was left of my dinner and finished it off. The others had more or less done the same as well and we settled into that after-dinner period of casual conversation. We drank the unopened carrot juice while Merry regaled us with a weather team story about how Ditzy had somehow managed to set a tornado on fire. I had to get a second opinion from Thunderlane to believe that one.

When it came to my turn to tell a story, I related one of the difficult parts of my job as Timekeeper: Keeping the clock tower running. “It’s terrible inside. The mechanism is an experimental design from a few decades from before I was born.” I shook my head. “There are mismatched parts and nopony’s written their name to it, so I think it was just cobbled together at last minute using the old parts. It only keeps the time for a month or so before it’s wrong enough to become noticeable.”

“Why hasn’t it been replaced?” Lane asked.

“Experimental design, you can’t just replace parts,” I explained. “The entire mechanism needs to be replaced, and that’s expensive.” I rolled my eyes, “It’s easier just to send the timekeeper up once a fortnight to do the first part of the Earth Pony Way.”

Merry scrunched her eyebrows together. “The first part of what?” She looked at Lane and he shrugged.

That sent my eyebrows up. “You both live in an earth pony town and you’ve never heard the first part of the earth pony way?” The two pegasi glanced at each other and shook their heads.

Carrot and I shared a smile. I gave her a nod and she recited, “When in doubt, buck it.”

“When in trouble, run,” I said.

“When cornered, charge,” Carrot finished.

“There’s usually a dozen or so more,” I said with a shrug. “But they tend to change while the first three are the same everywhere. I take it the pegasi have similar pearls of wisdom?”

“Yeah,” Lane piped up. “Never buck yellow clouds.”

After a bit of laughter Carrot Top started on her own story while we finished the rest of the carrot juice. She told us about the ‘silly’ wager she’d lost last year and been forced to dye her mane and tail green. She brushed her mane unconsciously a few times during the story. The pride she’d taken in her long orange curls had apparently been measured against a month’s worth of farm work.

After the story Carrot Top asked to excuse her so she could go the bathroom and ‘powder her nose’. The phrase must be a secret female code word because Merry May stood up, said the same thing, and followed Carrot out of the room.

With just the two of us at the table I asked, “How you holding up, Lane?”

“Not too well,” he said flatly.

“Huh.” I blinked a few times. Everything had been going well so far. “Lane?”

“I’m just not feeling it,” he explained flawlessly. “Merry’s nice and all, but we’ve only talked about weather and stuff.” He held up his hooves. “Is that all we do? It’s our job, but it’s like… there’s nothing else.”

“You can always try to talk about something else,” I reasoned.

“But, I don’t wanna risk it,” he said, and I arched an eyebrow. “Merry’s always smiling right? But after our first date when she stopped smiling, she flipped out. It’s like she’s got two personalities or something, there’s happy Merry May, and then there’s Merry Mad.” He held a hoof to his head. “And now I’m thinking,” – which made me smile – “What if I screw this up? I gotta work with her, and I want May, not Mad.”

Lane took a breath to calm himself. “You said this morning that the date had to be all about her, right? I’ve made all night about her, but I’m not sure I can keep this up.”

I leaned back in my seat. “This isn’t just nerves talking?”

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

Well that was disappointing. “Alright,” I said. “No big deal, you haven’t exactly asked for her hoof in marriage. Once this is over you can just say that you had fun, and that’s all.” I ran a hoof over the table cloth. “Just be honest and she’ll smile this all away.”

Lane nodded, “Alright.” He looked over at the bathroom door. “What do you think they’re doing in there?”

I shrugged, “Probably talking about us. Merry might feel the same way you do.”

“What’s the chef’s name again?” Lane asked, while his focus was still across the restaurant.

“Banana Fluff, why?”

“She just peeked out the kitchen at us.” Lane sat himself down in his seat properly. “You actually going to get her a restaurant?”

“You remember dinner, right?” I gave the empty plate in front of me a tap. “She’s good, and if she wants to get out from under Pokey then that’s fine by me.”

“Are you going to build it for her?” Lane asked.

“No, I’ll just get her permission from the town and requestion a spot of land for her to build on.” While permission can take some convincing, the small plots of land within Ponyville can go for as little as a song – literally. “I think she’s earned that much.”

“Yeah, if she opened a place I might eat there every night if she always cooks like this.”

There was a thump as the bathroom door opened for the two returning mares. For all their talk of powdering noses, their appearances hadn’t changed at all. Polite ‘hellos’ and ‘welcome backs’ were traded as they sat down again. A moment later the kitchen doors opened again and Banana came out with another selection of items in her magic.

Banana curtsied to us again and said, “Tonight’s dessert is my own signature dish: Bananas Fluffed. It is vanilla ice cream served with caramelized cinnamon sauce, diced bananas, and a rum flambé.”

“That sounds nice,” Lane said, and the rest of us agreed.

She removed the fruit bowl in the middle of the table and replaced it with a huge bowl of ice cream covered in a thick sauce. Then she peeled the bananas from the fruit bowl and used a knife to rapidly dice them in the air above the bowl.

Finally she brought out an almost empty bottle of rum and poured it out over the ice cream. “This rum is just to provide flavour, it doesn’t flambé well,” Banana explained as she emptied the bottle. “Normally I use a bottle of 151 proof rum for the ignition…” She looked remorsefully over her shoulder. “But I’m afraid that bottle is spoken for. So, tonight we’ll have to make do with an alternative.” Banana produced an additional bottle labelled ‘Crystal Clear 190’ with a picture of a griffon twirling a moustache.

“Woah,” Thunderlane breathed. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah, 190 proof grain alcohol,” Banana said, as she let Lane see the label. “It should flambé properly and won’t ruin the rum taste.”

“I thought that stuff was illegal outside Westmarch,” Carrot Top said quietly.

“We’re licenced,” Banana explained. “Pokey uses it occasionally, and since he’s got my bottle, I’m using his.” She opened the bottle and poured it liberally over the ice cream.

As she poured I was starting to wonder how much the bottle of high grade, import restricted, griffon made alcohol cost. Not to mention the rest of my meal and possibly Carrot’s too. This one would be chipping into the savings account.

“And now the fun part,” Banana announced. “The flambé will cook some of the alcohol off, caramelize the sugar and cinnamon, while leaving a glaze over the ice cream. The remaining alcohol will mix with the ice cream to create a mixture of hot and cold taste” She pointed her horn directly at the bowl…

And then it exploded.

Strictly speaking, a flambé should be a small ferocious blue fire that burnt for a few seconds. Obviously nopony accounted for the extra 39 proof, or it didn’t mix well with the bit of rum already in there. So you can forgive me for being a little surprised to see the wall of flame hitting me in the face, and understand why I did the temporal equivalent of wetting my bed.

The flame made me panic and the primitive grass eating corner of my mind screamed at me to run away. So I ran through an uncontrolled time turn, no plan, no call phrase, just like it was when I was a colt. Without the years of self control, I only went back a couple of seconds. Then instinct threw me off my chair, grabbed Carrot top, and pulled us both to the ground just in time to avoid the blast.

A few seconds later I let go of the shocked Carrot Top, and pulled myself up with legs shaking from the adrenaline rush. The others were just sitting in shock. Merry and Banana’s coats were now black where they faced the fire and their manes had been blown back as well. Thunderlane was only slightly darker, and his mane seemed a little shorter and crispier.

Carrot was the first to speak when she pulled herself up. “Oh, Celestia…”

Still shell shocked, Thunderlane reached out a wing – missing a few feathers – took a scoop from the bowl and gave it a taste. A second later he threw the rest of the scoop into his mouth and almost moaned in pleasure. “It’s awesome,” he said around the mouthful.

Merry May reached up to straighten her blown back mane and it crumbled to ash in her hooves. She took one look across at the shocked expressions on our faces before making a sound halfway between a squeak and a groan, and then keeling over.

Banana Fluff brushed at her blackened coat which crumbled away to reveal pale colourless skin beneath. “I might have used too much…”

As you might expect, Pokey Pierce wasn’t happy.

He came out of the kitchen at the sound of the blast. The first thing he did, in accordance to his reputation for good service, was to bring a set of cushions and chairs together to rest the unconscious Merry May on. Once she was comfortable he retrieved the bottle of Crystal Clear 190 and dragged Banana back to the kitchen with him. I had expected a loud tirade, but Pokey didn’t say anything in front of us.

The rest of us sat down at the table and ate our dessert with a bowl set aside for Merry. The mix of caramel sugar, banana, ice-cream and the remaining alcohol made something amazing. If Banana could work out the kinks she would have something really special.

A few minutes later Banana Fluff came back out of the kitchen with her head held high and joined us at the table. “Well, I’ve been fired,” she said as filled a bowl for herself.

I paused. “Sorry then.”

“It’s fine, I was going to quit tonight anyway.” A goofy smile crossed her face. “At least I went out with a bang.”

“And without your mane,” Lane said dryly. Banana had lit the fire with her horn and her mane had taken the blast head on. Her coat had taken the hit as well but the pale skin beneath didn’t contrast too heavily with Banana’s yellow coat. On Thunderlane it was a different story. Lane’s mane had just been shortened, while his dark coat had fallen away and left the front a naked pale contrasting against unchanged rear.

It’d probably be a week before any of them had even coat colours again.

“It won’t stop me opening my own place.” She winced and looked at me. “That is if you’re still going to let me.”

I looked up from my bowl. “As long as you don’t burn the town down.”

“Thank you, any ideas on what I could call it?”

“Umm,” Lane thought. “The Naked Chef?”

Banana giggled. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

“Let me know when you do,” Lane said. “I’ll be your first customer. Everything you made was awesome.” He paused for a moment. “Or sooner, if you’d like that.”

“I’d like that,” she replied.

Carrot Top leaned over to me. “So, it looks like this wasn’t all for nothing.” I nodded a smile on my face.

“Oh!” Banana said and brought up a couple of slips of paper. “Pokey asked me to give these to you.” She put one in front of Carrot and the other in front of Thunderlane.

Carrot took one look at it and paled. “Umm,” she pushed it over to me. “Little help?”

I looked at it myself and gulped – and not just because I had ice cream in my mouth. “Looks like this is one for the chequebook.”

After putting a significant dent in my bank account, Carrot and I left the restaurant for the bright night sky of Ponyville. We set off toward my place while Lane and Banana took Merry home.

“Thank you for doing that,” Carrot said as I closed the door behind us.

“It’s fine, Goldie,” I said to reassure her – and myself. “Coming here was my idea in the first place.”

“But that wine bottle wasn’t cheap.” She was right, that bottle had been the single biggest item on the list. While Banana Fluff had intended it to be on the house, she was fired before the bill was tallied up. I still felt a buzz from the alcohol. “Are you sure there’s no way to make it up to you?” She asked.

“It was a shared bottle. Anyway, I wasn’t using that money for anything.”

“Okay.” We walked quietly for a moment. “Um, would it be too much to ask you to come back to my place, so I can show you something?”

“Oh,” I thought about it. Ah, yeah, the barn she wanted. She’d have the paperwork filed away in her office somewhere. Strictly speaking, since this was technically a date, I should accompany her home regardless. Letting the other pony get bored walking home alone wasn’t a good way to underline a night out. “Sure, I can take a look.” I said.

“Shall we then?” she asked. I nodded, and she led the way out of the town toward her farm.

We slowly made our way in the dark. There was enough light to see by, but if you were careless a pothole would be all too happy to introduce you to the hard truth of things.

“The stars look nice tonight,” Carrot said as she walked beside me. “They always seem to be now a days.”

“Princess Luna’s back and settled in,” I supplied. “They weren’t this nice a few years ago.” I looked up at them for a moment. “Princess Celestia probably had other problems, but now it seems more welcoming than it used to.”

“It’s a nice end to a good day,” she said. I mumbled an agreement while I tried to pick out some of the patterns. I was following the path of a shooting star when one of my hooves caught in a pothole. I stumbled but didn’t fall over. “You okay?” Carrot asked.

“It’s nothing.” Perhaps there was more alcohol left over in that ice-cream then I thought. It made me feel a little silly.

We soon came to the farm and the farmhouse. Carrot stepped forward to open the door and shut it behind me. Carrot didn’t bother to light a lamp. “It’s upstairs, down the loft-hall and in the second door on the left. Watch your step on the stairs.”

“I’ll be fine,” and rolled my eyes in the darkness. You let them see you trip once and they never believe you. Carrot followed me up the stairs and was right behind me when we went through the door.

I’d expected her office to have a desk, perhaps a few filing cabinets and maybe a ‘miscellaneous’ pile or two. I didn’t quite expect the double bed. It wasn’t made up and showed signs of being recently slept in. The curtains in the window were open and the moon shone in with a slight hint of blue reflecting off the white sheets.

There wasn’t a desk either. In hindsight I blame the alcohol; otherwise I probably would have seen this coming.

The door shut behind me. I looked over my shoulder and I could dimly see a sultry smile on Carrot Top’s face in the light off the sheets. At this point it was kinda clear where this was going.

“When in doubt…”

Author's Note

For those wondering, This is Banana Fluff. There aren't many unicorns with food related names.
And her dessert: Bananas Fluffed.

The Pony Who Wishes He Could Timeskip Past The Boring Parts.

I woke to the sound of somepony knocking on the front door. A repeating drum beat of four thumps in a precise beat without variation.

Nope, not today, I thought as I rolled over to rest my face against the pillow and hide my eyes from the light coming through the window above the bed.

Thump-thump-thump-thump, the knocking was patient and unyielding. Like water that knows regardless of how many times it’s drunk, it’ll reach the sea eventually. Then I set about cursing myself for thinking about poetic metaphors that’d just wake me up faster.

Less patient was my pillow. It rudely rolled out from under me and let my head fall face first onto the hard mattress while it walked out the door. I repeated the motion one more time as an experiment. I couldn’t remember my mattress being this hard, and so a scientific deduction would suggest that it wasn’t my mattress. I decided to take a risk and opened an eye. The scientific method was validated when I saw that it wasn’t my mattress, it was the floor.

The floors were timber, and if I moved just a bit I could see the room downstairs. Shadows disappeared as a new light was cast upon the downstairs floor. A couple of voices said something intelligible and the light disappeared.

A different rhythm sounded through the floor and quickly got louder. Then a hoof pressed against my back a few times. “Time Turner, wake up.”

“No. Sleeping,” I groaned.

I could almost hear the pleasant smile. “If you were asleep you wouldn’t be able say you were asleep.”

I considered that for a moment. Logically, the voice was right, I wasn’t asleep. Worse, the act of considering this had made me even less asleep. This in mind I said, “Damn.”

There was a soft giggle. Then I was poked again. “You have to come downstairs. That was the Mayor at the front door, and she wants to speak to you about a favour you owe her for a restaurant.”

That got both eyes open. “That was fast.” I slowly brought myself to my hooves and disentangled myself from the white sheet still attached to the bed it came from. As soon as I was up I lurched toward the doorway and out into the hall.

The haze of sleep kept my mind fogged as I went for the stairs. I hadn’t yet started to get a hold on where I was; my world consisted of the path in front of me and a headache. Getting down the stairs in my current state took all my attention as I tried to place what felt like eight hooves. I had to get to the front door where my boss was probably waiting with an air of the utmost patience.

I took my eyes off the stairs for a second to check the front door. Closed, alright now—

“Good afternoon, Time Turner,” said familiar voice to my left.

“What?” My head shot around to look at the source to find the mayor waiting in a sitting area. My mind tried to deal with this sudden unexpected change and lost track of where I was placing my hooves.

A hoof stepped halfway out into the air and I tumbled forward into a weird twisting pirouette that included a near flip as I tried to avoid falling down the last few steps. The acrobatics would have been nearly impossible if hadn’t been half asleep, in the same weird way that a pony can do amazing things if they’re drunk and/or sleepwalking. If you think too hard, the magic dies, and you break a leg.

I finally stopped myself at the bottom of the stairs and gratefully went back to standing on all four hooves as I received polite applause.

I took a moment to get my bearings properly this time. I was in Carrot Top’s farmhouse, her all purpose downstairs room specifically. Then I remembered why I’d woken up on Carrot Top’s bedroom floor – It was a sobering thought.

“Are you okay?” I turned my head to see the owner of the voice. Carrot Top had come down the stairs after me. She looked rather cheery, despite the mess her mane and tail were in. Obviously she was a morning pony.

I checked to see if I was still in one piece and nodded. “I’m okay.”

The mayor waved at us from over in the lounge area, “Good afternoon.”

Oh, yeah, the mayor... wait. “Afternoon? It couldn’t be past ten.” I looked over at the clock and saw that it was two thirty-seven in the afternoon. “I can’t have been asleep that long…”

“Oh we weren’t,” Carrot said ominously. Say what you will about earth pony stamina.

The mayor coughed politely. “I hate to interrupt, but I’ve spent the better part of my afternoon searching for you, Turner.”

Catching the slight rebuke in her tone I inclined my head formally. “My apologies, mayor. This was a spur of the moment thing, I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

The mayor warmed up to me. “Quite alright, Turner. This has been a convenient excuse to get out from behind my desk.” I smiled. A good smile and an honest bit of niceness can make your troubles float away. “However, I do have a reason for coming to find you.” My smile disappeared.

Carrot Top quietly excused herself to make us some coffee and made her escape.

“This morning,” the mayor began. “Banana Fluff asked me for permission to build an open air restaurant in town, and said that you’d recommend her.”

“I do,” I confirmed. “She’s a capable chef and given some room she should do fine.” And now the tricky part. “I don’t suppose you could make sure it happens? Pokey just let her go.”

The mayor’s eyes narrowed a touch. “Why?”

“She improvises.”

“I noticed,” the mayor said flatly. “She was improvising a wig earlier.”

I blinked a couple of times as the memory hit, “Oh, that.” I shrugged. “Don’t worry about it: she’s young, she’s talented, and I’m happy to vouch for her.”

“Hmm.” The mayor adjusted the cravat on her collar. “In that case… There’s a small plot next to the park which would suit an open air restaurant nicely.”

“Thank you,” I said with a nod. Let nopony ever say that Time Turner doesn’t keep his promises.

The mayor inclined her head in return. Before saying, “There are a few things that will need to be done before she can start building.” I nodded. “So I’ll just add them to your list of things to do. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind doing that and a few other things for the town.”

I braced for it and said, “I wouldn’t…”

“Good, you’ve had a few days to yourself and there are quite a few things I’d like you to attend to.” The mayor pulled a little folded note from a clip in her tail. She passed it to me and I put it on the table to open it. It wasn’t a short list.

The mayor came over to look over my shoulder as I read. “I hope you will get this all done. I don’t want any complaints or ‘Mysterious Trips to Manehattan’ this time, hmm?”

I smiled sheepishly. I had been a little lax lately, not that this is supposed to be part of my job, but I suppose it was kind of expected of me.

I looked down the list. It was mostly the little things that most ponies tried to forget about. Among them were bits of paperwork, surveying property borders between farms – which tend to shift mysteriously – and the final item on the list was optimistically titled, ‘guest liaison’.

“Another guest?” my voice was bitter.

“Yes, a minotaur doing a seminar. He’s had good reviews from other towns.”

“Why does this remind me about that fashion show last year?” I scowled. “You didn’t have to deal with Hoity Toity. He didn’t apologize for sitting on my nose; even after I helped Spike drag his flank back to Carousel Boutique for Rarity’s do over.”

“Which is why I want you dealing with this,” the mayor explained and followed up with some well-targeted ego stroking. “Minotaurs are imposing, and you’re less likely to be afraid of him than our other public servants.” It was a blatant attempt to butter me up, and it worked.

“Alright, I’ll deal with it.” I resigned myself to it with a shrug and asked, “What’s his name?”

“Iron Will, or at least that’s the name he gave.” The mayor stepped back. “I need to get back to town hall. Good afternoon, Time Turner.” She repeated the same to Carrot Top as she passed, and went out the door.

I sat down at the table and Carrot Top came over with the coffee pot again. She set it down and poured both of us cups before sitting down as well. I said thanks as she passed me the caffeinated goodness.

“So,” I tried to begin. “Last night.”

“It was fun,” Carrot replied.

I grinned. “Yes it was.” Carrot returned the smile, I smiled more and she did the same. It felt like we grinning about some conspiracy. There was a shared smugness about what we did, like a couple of dogs pretending that the biscuit barrel on the floor had always been empty.

“It’s been years since I did that,” Carrot admitted. “I’m not really sure what came over me, I kept thinking about it, and we were getting on so well that I just kinda felt… frisky.” She hung her head and stared into her coffee cup. “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

“I didn’t refuse, and we both enjoyed it.” I shrugged. “The alcohol is probably to blame more than anything else.”

“So, where do we go from here?” Carrot Top looked up from her cup. “Did we get into that too fast? Or should we pretend it didn’t happen?”

I drank from my coffee cup while I thought. Caffeine is a must before decisions are made. “Probably too fast. We can take a few steps back, but we don’t need to pretend last night didn’t happen.” I nodded to myself. “Take some time, think about it, and let saner heads prevail. For the time being I think we can say we’re definitely friends from here on.” Cloud Kicker would probably be fast to suggest ‘friends with benefits’ and would follow that up with a threesome offer within thirty seconds, guaranteed, or your money back.

“That sounds smart,” Carrot agreed with a nod. “Friends?” She held a hoof up in the air over the table.

“Friends.” I brought a hoof up and we bumped.

“So, do you think ponies will start to talk about us?” she asked.

“I didn’t see any of the flower trio last night.”

“The mayor?”

“She won’t talk about it.”

“Thunderlane or Banana?”

“Not likely,” I said. “Merry?”

“Same.”

“Can’t be sure, but it might not be out on the rumour mill yet.”

Carrot Top smiled at my naivety. “It will be. They’re telepathic.”

“Then we’ll just have to hope for the best then.” I drank from my cup. “And hope somepony else will do something to get their attention.” Thinking about it, there was a relationship between Ditzy and Cloud that my future self had hinted about. That would be guaranteed gossip for a week.

“Actually, bet on that,” I said. “Something’s bound to happen.”

“Alright then,” Carrot said before she took a long drink from her coffee cup, lifting it up above her head as it emptied. “So how long do we give ourselves?”

I checked the list the mayor gave me and whistled. “It’s going to be a week before I’ve caught up with a lot of this. Probably more if this guest turns out to be troublesome.”

Carrot furrowed her eyebrows in thought. “I think I heard something about a monster?”

“Minotaur, and yeah, that is a surprise.” I leant back in my chair and brought a hoof to my chin. “They’re almost never seen in Equestria. The last time I saw one was in Freeport, and that place isn’t exactly under the Princess’s influence.”

“Minotaurs don’t like us?” Carrot asked.

“I don’t think there’s any particular reason, at least as far as I’ve been told. They’re really tall, so if they come to Equestria they’d be forever afraid of stepping on us.” I shrugged. “Equestria’s just that much removed from their home.” I checked the description on the note again. “He’s running some form of seminar. I’d imagine he’s quite successful. Most ponies would go purely for the once in a decade opportunity to see a minotaur.”

“I’d like to go,” Carrot Top said quietly. “But I probably can’t spare the time now.” She tapped the table idly. “I have harvesting to catch up on.”

I winced. “Alright then.” I drank the rest of my coffee. “We’ll catch up sometime after the seminar and see about setting up a date or something, I suppose.”

“Sounds good.” The pair of us stood up and she led the way to her front door. “Thank you again for coming over yesterday,” she said as she opened the door. “It was a real pleasure getting to know you, in more ways than one.”

“I’ll see you next week then.” We shared a nod and I walked out. The door shut behind me and I made my way down the path toward the road.

Walking is a great time to think, your blood starts pumping, it’s quiet, and for the most part you’re alone. Since I’d hadn’t had time to think properly for the last day or so, I spent the walk home thinking.

Most of my thoughts centred on Carrot Top, or as I’d been calling her: Goldie. That alone was interesting, why had I done that? She wasn’t entirely fond of Carrot Top as a name, and Golden Harvest was a mouthful. Good reasons, though it implied a familiarity.

Then there was the potential relationship thing.

My thoughts had plenty to shout about on this. Starting with my cynicism saying, “Goldie’s probably just chasing me because I showed interest. She’s a family oriented and social pony who been tied to a post and left behind. It’s sad.” Then optimism kicked in, “Though she’s done well managing the farm on her own. She’s talented, and not just in making cake. Can’t forget that cake. If we actually start dating there’ll be more of it.”

I absently turned a corner. “Though there is the whole ‘through the stomach’ thing. Am I being lured in here? Hay, can I even trust myself if drinking a little alcohol is enough to get me in her bed?” I frowned. “I usually plan for that eventuality and prepare myself, but she just flashed me with that look and I went right with it.” I bobbed my head in a sort of internal shrug. “Though what self-respecting stallion would pass that up? It’s not like I’ve turned down Cloud Kicker before, but then again I always knew the score with her; Goldie, not so much.”

I returned a few waves and greetings as ponies passed me. “How far would this go? If she’s just looking for somepony, anypony, then we’d end up stuck in a relationship because it’s there, like Caramel and…” My eyebrows furrowed over the mental blank. “Colgate, that’s the one. Do I want to be like Caramel, pulled along like I have a rope around my neck, or tied down?”

A shudder ran down my spine. “Tied down… I’d hate that, what would happen if I wanted to go…” I stopped in the street as a thought hit me like the Friendship Express. “That bastard…” My future-self had already mentioned this. He’d warned that I’d have something out of town to do soon and also said, ‘This time, you’ll want to have somepony with you.’ And that I’d be ‘rather grateful for the help when the time comes.’

I’d had traveling companions before, but with what was happening now. “Was I hinting at myself that I’d be in a relationship soon and that I’d ‘want’ to have someone with me? Which would mean that it’s already happened and…” I shook my head. “Stop, don’t go there. There’s no such thing as destiny, I’m vague for a reason, and I can’t assume I know the future.”

The unicorns have outlawed time travel magic for a reason. Reading too much into a glimpse of the future can be maddening. That was probably why the hints I’d send back from the future would have to be vague, so I wouldn’t read too much into them and they’d only make sense at the right moment. All I knew was that: a fridge will be important at some point, I’d be helped by friends in an adventure soon, and that Ditzy and Cloud are probably dating.

I love time travel. It makes life interesting, doesn’t it?

“Are you okay, Turner?”

“Huh?” I muttered as reality snapped back to find Caramel standing in front of me.

“You were staring off into the distance,” he said with a look of concern plastered across his face. “Something up?”

“Just thinking.” My eyes flicked back to Caramel. “Actually there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you particularly busy, in terms of work?”

Caramel shrugged. “Nopony’s too desperate for help right now, but in a few weeks there’ll be a few calls for harvesters. Why’d ya ask?”

“I was out to see Carrot Top yesterday. You remember how everypony at the last meeting said I should go see her?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she’s actually looking for somepony to do some farm work for her,” I said.

“Really?” Caramel blinked. “I didn’t think she’d want help.”

“Well, she’s been managing on her own, but she’s having trouble with sales. Namely she can’t run her stall and harvest at the same time.”

Caramel nodded. “I get ya.”

“Think you could go say hello at some point? I’ve told her to expect you.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Caramel said. “Could use the extra work anyway. Thanks for the tip.”

“Anytime,” I said and we bumped hooves before splitting up.

I was on Saddle Street, just a few doors down from my house, and over the short distance I came to a temporary conclusion on the Carrot angle: “Run with it, and we’ll see how it goes.”

The position of Timekeeper draws a reasonable wage for a job that’s supposed to be a clockwatching position. The strangest thing about bureaucrats is that despite being so monolithic, they absolutely detest wasted money with an almost fanatic fervour. Accordingly, the mayor would pass any ‘unusual’ or ‘excess’ tasks that she didn’t assign to anypony else, to me.

It was mostly near-pointless busy work, but while it was easy, it was also universally hated by everypony but the most masochistic bureaucrats. Ponyville doesn’t have too many of those: they typically get snapped up and promoted to Canterlot or Manehattan. So as time passes the work gets piled into a corner until the mayor decides to saddle some poor sucker with it.

I was the sucker.

After a few days of stamping forms I was starting to go stir crazy. I dreamed up elaborate plans, schemes, and a few new designs for clocks to try in my workshop at home. The Carrot Top question bounced around a few times without result. Occasionally the sound of laughter and birdsong had me staring wistfully at the window while memories of my travels filled my mind. Then I realized not getting my work done was going to prolong this.

To keep myself sane, I decided I could just do the work outside. A few pencils, erasers, and a tablet of wood for a table, made a portable office. The road cones, pipe, and a suspiciously ramp like plank I’d pulled out of storage were also essential for my mental wellbeing.

I set myself up on a patch of grass by Saddle Street and curled around the tablet to get some work done. I was halfway through the annual cost estimates on the town’s hot water supply when a shadow fell over my work.

“Hey, bud.” I looked up to see Thunderlane hovering above me. It was nice to see a friendly face. His coat had mostly grown back, but there were a few pale areas where it was still uneven.

I dropped my pencil and said, “Hello, Lane, how’s the weather going?”

“Easy day so far.” He touched down beside me and looked down over my work. “We’ve just been containing clouds outta the Everfree. It’s all clear skies today.” He looked over at the extra stuff I’d left on the road nearby. “What’s with that gear?”

“Just watching it for some orange pony, nothing major,” I replied.

“Uh, huh,” Lane said slowly, before turning his attention to my paperwork. “What’s this for?” he asked, tapping the form.

“The hot water log and associated costs.” I shook my head. “You know, it’s up six percent this quarter because somepony in town must have spent seven hours in a shower or something. I have to check the recorded readings from every water meter in town just to figure out who to pass the additional cost onto.”

“Not the spa, is it?” Lane suggested.

“They have their own water heater.”

“Rarity?”

“Checked that,” I said with a bored shrug. “The Boutique actually uses less hot water than most of the town. I’m not sure Rarity even uses her bathtub.”

“Dunno then, bud,” Lane said with a shrug. “I’m sure you’ll find it eventually though.”

“Eventually being the operative word there,” I groaned as a scrunched up another page of note paper and threw it on a growing pile.

“Well I’d better leave you to it.” Lane opened his wings.

A familiar buzzing sound met my ears. “Hold on, Lane.” I held up my hoof to stop him and said, “You might want to see this.” I nodded toward the pile of equipment left standing on the road in front of us. This particular prank had come to me while doing a particularly dull form.

I caught sight of an orange blur approaching before it disappeared behind a building. Go on. You know you want to. There was a slight change in the pitch of the buzz. I smiled and my hooves were together in anticipation.

The orange blur, now easily identifiable as a little pegasus filly on a scooter, went right for the pile of stuff on the road in front of us. A long plank sat on a large pipe at an inviting angle, positioned well enough to be an awesome launch point for an aerial trick. The scooter hit the plank and used it as a ramp to go up.

Just as the scooter passed the halfway point above the large section of pipe, it tipped. The scooter’s weight shifting the delicate balance of the plank toward the other side. The scooter, and its driver, followed the plank down and into a rather unfortunately placed mud puddle.

The splash caused several passing ponies to pause and look at the accident. The filly picked herself up easily enough – her pride was the only thing injured. If she’d actually hurt herself I’d have had to turn time back and stopped her before she hit it.

Had to be sure though. “You okay, kid?” I called out.

The filly looked over, her eyes the only colour in the complete brown coverage of mud. Her eyes narrowed as they met mine. “I’m fine,” she grumbled back before getting on her scooter and driving away at a safer speed.

“Turner, why are you grinning like that?” Thunderlane asked.

“No reason,” I said innocently.

The biggest task of the week had me standing on the train station platform at the crack of dawn a few days later, while waiting for the arrival of this week’s guest. The mayor had, rather emphatically, told me that the town stood to make a fair bit of money out of this business and that she had a thousand and one things to spend it on.

The train itself arrived four minutes and thirty-eight seconds late. The delay probably caused by the extra pair of carriages on the end of the train. They were sleek, smooth, and painted black. Once the train stopped, a door on the back of the rear car opened out into a ramp that led down to the ground below the platform. A large cloaked figure strode down the ramp and stood between the rails on the ground. There was a harsh sound of indrawn breath before it reached up and pulled down the hood from over its large horns. “Iron Will smells… pansies.”

“They’re planted all over the place,” I said off hoof as I walked up to the edge of the platform. Despite the advantage of the platform, my eyes were only level with his shoulders.

The figure spun around, cape falling from his shoulders as he struck a dramatic pose, while looking off into the middle distance. “Iron Will’s the name, training ponies is my game.”

I looked over my shoulder to check the wall he was directing his stance at – it was blank. “Right…” I mumbled to myself before flicking back around. “Welcome to Ponyville, my name is Time Turner and I’m the mayor’s representative to you and your…” I caught a glimpse of a small herd of goats in the carriage “… entourage.” I held out a hoof. “I am at your service.”

The minotaur reached out to hold my entire leg with a massive hand and shook it. “Iron Will appreciates the offer of your assistance. But Iron Will requires only a suitable venue to demonstrate his patented and proven assertiveness techniques.” The minotaur struck another pose to emphasise the emphasis in his speech.

Luna save me… “As you wish,” I said with a nod and pulled a list from my bag. “This is a list of Ponyville’s available venues,” I said past the list. “The mayor assures you that we can accommodate you elsewhere as well, given enough notice.”

The minotaur gingerly took the list from my mouth and brought it up to his eyes. The disparity in size was incredible; he could fit the entire notepad into the palm of his hand. His time in Equestria must make him feel like a giant in a land of midgets.

I followed his beady eyes as they scanned the list, and came to a halt. “How tall are the hedges in the maze?”

My eyebrows bunched together. The maze had only been included on the list as an afterthought. “Six, maybe eight times a pony’s height,” I said with a slight shrug.

The minotaur snorted. “Iron Will has made his decision. We use the maze.” He turned to look at his goats and they set to work detaching the carriages from the train. “Mazes remind Iron Will of home, and help put him in the zone.” He turned back to me. “Show us the way.”

Nopony is quite sure whose idea it was to grow Ponyville’s hedge maze. There’s no record of a request, or zoning approval. It may even precede the establishment of Ponyville as a proper town. All we know is that somepony decided to grow a hedge maze on the border of White Tail Wood and that they did a reasonable job of it.

When we arrived, Iron Will went into the maze with an armful of small flags and marked a path to the centre without a single missed turn. I would have needed a map to find it. Once in the centre the minotaur took a moment to admire the scenery while his goats brought in their equipment. I caught one goat eyeing my bag and I stared him down until he looked away.

“Iron Will is satisfied.” The minotaur turned around and nodded to his merry band of tie wearing goats who immediately got to work.

“Good,” I said as I reached into my bag again for a small wad of paper. “If you would like to go over the contract then?”

“Yes, of course.” Iron Will walked over casually and stood passively while I gave the contact a flip through.

“The terms are as follows: Ponyville, which I am representing, as part of central Equestria under Canterlot, yada yada, will provide venue and permits free of charge while levying a twenty-five percent tax on the event’s income—“

“On profit,” Iron Will growled. He leaned forward over me.

“On income.” I held my position. “The mayor is strict on this provision, though the rate is negotiable.”

“Five percent tax,” he rumbled.

“Twenty percent.”

“Ten percent.” He flexed his arms.

I stepped forward. “Seventeen percent!”

Iron Will snatched me up and held me at eye height. “Fifteen percent!”

I flattened my face against his. “Fifteen percent and services are extra!”

“Done!” He yelled back.

I pulled my head back and smiled. “Excellent. If you wouldn’t mind dropping me.” The minotaur grunted and let go of me. I landed with a slight bounce and went back to the contract to make a show of amending it. Conveniently, I didn’t have to amend anything, fifteen percent plus services is the rate the mayor wanted. An earth pony always asks for more than they intend to sell for – it’s written somewhere in the earth pony way – and sometimes rich ponies with no sense of value will pay the full amount.

I flipped through the rest of the contract and returned to a dull monotone. “The rest of the contract is the usual acceptance of liability for your customers, and a provision for the weather team so they can delay any major weather events that conflict with your seminar. Objections?”

“None,” he answered calmly.

I presented the final page. “Sign here.”

Iron Will leaned forward, took the pencil and signed very daintily on the line. His handwriting was a surprisingly neat cursive with emphasised loops. I took the contract back and added my own as witness next to where the mayor had pre-signed it earlier.

“Done,” I said as I put it away. “Anything else?”

“Iron Will requires distribution of his ‘flex up™’ pamphlets,” he said with an arm flex. “It will be done by tomorrow morning so the seminar can run at noon.”

I nodded. That was easily managed by getting the postal ponies to run a special delivery tonight, and that would count as an additional service too. “A few hundred pamphlets? We can do that. When will they be ready?”

A large mail sack was dropped beside Iron Will. A goat covered in ink stains bleated something and returned to the carriage.

“Iron Will’s staff will distribute the pamphlets.” He folded his massive arms and smiled. “Good profit requires minimized expense.”

Like on delivery, I thought. My eyes flicked between the various goats as they went about setting up a stage, mowing the lawns, trimming the hedges, and setting up pyrotechnics. “What are you paying these guys?” I asked in disbelief.

The minotaur looked on proudly. “Iron Will is finding them nannies for their kids.”

At noon the following day, I joined a small herd of ponies heading down to the hedge maze. The pamphlets advertising Iron Will’s seminar – with a popup picture – had all mysteriously appeared in everypony’s mailboxes that morning. It promised that Iron Will’s seminar would ‘turn doormats into dynamos’, teach you how to ‘take advantage of assertiveness’, and other creative pairings of long words starting with the same letter.

Rather than coming for the training, most of the chatter from the other ponies suggested they were mostly coming out of sheer curiosity. Seeing the goats around town had been strange enough, but a minotaur was still the stuff of myth.

The maze had been tended to with some skill, the hedges were trimmed and flags had been put up. Inside, a sign asked ponies to write down their names and addresses with a smaller sign addressing the fifty bit entry fee – to be collected later.

I looked around at the crowd. A quick guestimate put the attendance at a hundred and fifty or so. Multiply by fifty and you have something like seven and a half thousand bits, which means around eleven hundred and so bits for the town at the fifteen percent tax rate.

That kind of money could get a lot of library books, school equipment, some extra weather, or something else a committee might come up with. But fifty bits is a lot for a pony to drop all at once, and so the town would probably get less than that.

Case in point: Fluttershy was here. As an Animal Caretaker she’s on the same pay grade as a Timekeeper – i.e. not much. All my luxuries are paid for by clock sales and my ‘savings’. Fluttershy doesn’t sell clocks, so she probably wouldn’t have the money to pay for this.

Distracted by the complex mathematics behind estimating returns, I’d completely missed Iron Will’s entrance. The stomping and cheering of the audience snapped me back to reality just before the cheers turned to polite laughter.

“That’s no joke friends,” Iron Will said amicably. “Iron Will is so confident that you will be one-hundred percent satisfied, with Iron Will’s assertiveness techniques, that if you are not one-hundred percent satisfied: You. Pay. Nothing!” each word emphasised with a dramatic pose.

Then he got in some poor foal’s face while flexing his muscles, saying, “But I pity the fool who doubts Iron Will’s methods.” The audience shrank back as said fool started to sweat bullets. “You don’t doubt me do you?” The herd shook their heads. Then the minotaur flipped out of intimidating and into reasonable. “That’s the first lesson: ‘Don’t be shy, look em in the eye’.” Then the audience laughed away their worries, the intimidation only a memory.

I had to appreciate the subtle brilliance in all this. Saying you weren’t satisfied would mean overcoming the very intimidating and imposing Iron Will in debt collection mode. Doing so would require somepony to be assertive, which Iron Will could claim as proof that you benefited from his workshop, and therefore Iron Will should be paid. Most ponies would remember this moment, and wouldn’t bother refusing. But the promise meant that they’d all stay for the seminar and assume they could wiggle out of it later if they wanted to – which they wouldn’t.

Iron Will followed up with a quick demonstration with a carefully selected test subject: Fluttershy, somepony meek and helpless who could be reliably herded.

The demonstration forced Fluttershy into a position where she’d have to assert herself to escape. It was similar to ‘good cop, bad cop’ scenario, with Iron Will playing both. He shouted to pressure her forward, and spoke kindly to give her an escape path – be assertive – which Fluttershy promptly took. The audience cheered, and just like that, Iron Will had full credibility.

The next part of the seminar broke the watching audience up into several groups. Tables with signs like ‘Mega Marketing’ and ‘Assertive Bartering’ were quickly put out with printed reference sheets grouped by the table’s subject. As ponies gathered to their subjects of choice, Iron Will went around demonstrating his techniques and catchphrases.

“Customers won’t just come to you, you have to make them want to!” was used at marketing along with, “Your sign is loud, and you are proud!” Each phrase got nods as everypony caught on. At the bartering table Iron Will interrupted them with, “Don’t just buy, they have to try!” before grouping the marketing and bartering tables together for a practice session while yelling, “If you want to learn it, you have to earn it!”

I didn’t join any of the tables myself, but I wandered around collecting sheets from all of them. They were comic strips where goats – speaking equestrian – were guided by miniature minotaurs sitting on their backs. A lot of the advice was good, the bartering issue had a three page strip where readers were introduced to easy-to-learn methods for buying and how to counter the seller’s own techniques.

Practical usage aside, there was also the “Dynamic Dating” table. More than a few mares had gathered around it and were gossiping, comparing notes and getting advice. Among the small conspiracy of fillies was Colgate – Caramel’s wannabe marefriend – who was closely consulting one of Iron Will’s guides. Approaching that table would be like flying down ghastly gorge with only one wing: screwy, with a chance of getting snatched up by a vicious predator. Okay, that was a weird train of thought.

I looked around and checked off tables from my mental list. Broadly, I was satisfied. Iron Will was running a good show, he wasn’t selling snake oil or a cider making machine, and everything was under control. For once there wasn’t a clock in sight, so I guessed the time from the sun’s position. It was still overhead, so I figured it wasn’t too late to get lunch, and I kinda owed it to somepony as well.

I knocked on the door of the Post Office’s staff entrance. The door shuddered in its frame and the sound echoed uncomfortably in the walls – earning a wince from me. The Post Office is a prime example of bureaucratic savings and cost cutting; the building was originally Ponyville’s first town hall and is one of the oldest buildings in town. When the new town hall was built, the Postal Service was given the keys to the old and it hasn’t changed much since.

After a second round of knocking the staff door was opened by my delightful, wall-eyed neighbour. “Hello, Ditzy.”

“Time Turner.” Then Ditzy’s face changed to a – relatively – serious expression as she quickly looked around with a hard to follow movement of her opposing eyes. She leaned forward and whispered, “I’ve got another of those secret letters of yours.”

Another message from Siren. Where possible she’d only send messages by courier and Ditzy, by dint of her regular run to Canterlot and back, usually brought them to me. In fact, it’s how we got to know each other. Knowing Siren, that may have been intentional.

“I’ll get that later,” I said. “I actually came around to ask you out to lunch.”

Ditzy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Uhhh.”

I supposed there was a conflict of interest from her side of the story. “Not trying to intrude on you and Cloud, mind,” I explained. “I just had some free time and figured that I still owed you lunch for bailing out on you last time.”

Ditzy nodded. “Oh that’s—Wait, how did you know about me and Cloud?”

I smiled a moment while I quickly pulled together an excuse. “You live across the street from me, Ditzy. It wasn’t going to stay hidden for long.”

“Ah... Anyway, this is nice of you, but my break’s about to finish.” She pointed over her shoulder toward the mail bags on the floor behind her.

The decision took only a moment. “No problem, wait here.” I slipped past Ditzy and went up a hallway to get to the old mayor’s office where the postmaster would be.

I opened the door and stick my head in. “Hey, Tool Time.” The pony behind the desk looked up with a grunt. “I need to borrow Ditzy for an hour or two.”

Tool scowled at me. “What do ya need Derpy for?”

“I need a postal pony for a few deliveries on behalf of our minotaur guest,” I lied. “I’m commandeering her.”

“Wait, ya can’t just—”

“Already have,” I interrupted. “Take it up with the mayor.” I shut the door and walked away before he could say otherwise. Never give a bureaucrat a chance to argue, otherwise you’ll never escape and you’ll get sucked into the event horizon of red tape. Frankly I’d had enough bureaucracy for a long while.

Ditzy caught up to me as again as she was coming down the hall after me. “Got you a couple of hours of paid leave, come on.” She turned and snatched up her bags as we went back outside.

We didn’t go far, the nearest café was just on the edge of the town square and we took an empty table outside. Ditzy dropped her bag on the ground and rummaged around in it for a moment. She came back up a moment later and placed the letter on the table in front of me. Like the last one, it didn’t have a postage mark declaring its origin, and the only marking was the name ‘Time Turner’ written in delicate horn-writing.

“I’ll open it later.”

“No, you should open it now,” Ditzy objected. “Get it out the way, and who knows, you might need to send a response.”

“Okay then.” I flipped it over and broke the blank wax seal on the other side.

To Time Turner,
From Siren.

Turner, thank you again for your assistance in Manehattan. I know it was very short notice, but as you said before, now I owe you one.

Right now, I’m writing to you because I have a bad feeling. I am still new enough at this that I don’t know if I’m being paranoid or not, but there have been unusual things happening across Equestria. A couple of disappearances in Manehattan – thankfully not related to our last problem, I think – some disruptions with the buffalo near Appleloosa and a series of thefts in Los Pegasus.

However those events are not what are causing me concern. They’re everywhere. But there are a few places that have been left entirely untouched – a statistical anomaly according to my analysts. Specifically, Canterlot has been quiet, and so have a few towns. Ponyville itself hasn’t come up on my radar yet, so I can’t be sure if it’s luck, a deliberate calm before a storm, or something has already happened and gone entirely unnoticed.

So I’m advising you to keep your eyes and ears open. If you see some unusual or even trivial events that make you suspicious, send me a message soonest.

Siren

“Hmm,” I said as I reread the letter.

“Something wrong?” Ditzy asked. Her eyes did a dance as each took turns reading my face.

“Nothing actually, that’s the problem.” The letter was folded up and put into my bag. Anything sent my way isn’t really top secret, so extreme measures weren’t needed. “That’s something for later.” I signalled the waiter and ordered a sandwich platter and a pitcher of orange juice.

“So, Ditzy, how are things?” It was a routine enough question and soon Ditzy was talking about the mundane things in her life. It sounds boring, but I enjoy hearing about the little things like Sparkler’s grades and fire extinguishing skills. Then there were Dinky’s various attempts to take over the world via her weapons-grade cuteness. It’s my firm belief that Dinky, despite seeming innocent, knows very well how cute she is and uses it to her advantage at every opportunity. Or that could just be me ignoring my own advice and seeing malice instead of childishness.

“…Oh, and thanks again for fixing my clock. It hasn’t fallen off the wall again since.”

“It was an easy fix, I just had to bolt it to the wall,” I said. “By happy coincidence, your house is becoming even more earthquake proof.”

“My bad.”

“You keep saying that,” I muttered. “Are you even sure it’s your fault? You don’t have any cursed artefacts at home or anything?”

“I’m just Derpy,” Ditzy said with a shrug. “I accept that now. It’s just how things are, I can’t let it hold me back.” Ditzy lifted her glass of orange juice and drank.

“Don’t expect me to accept it.”

“You never give up do you?”

“Never,” I said and finished the last of my juice. Give me a chance and I’d probably break time itself just to save somepony.

The friendly discussion resumed. This time the topic drifted past Ditzy’s old college days, then Ponyville, then toward Cloud Kicker before taking a bypass around that minefield and, somehow, she managed to bring up Carrot Top.

“She’s been on her own at home for about a year,” Ditzy explained. “She’s been so busy since then. She used to make these wonderful carrot muffins when she came to visit, but now I only see her at market.”

“Hopefully that’ll change soon.” I shook my head. “I think it’s starting to get to her: she was almost desperate for contact when I met her, and I think it’s starting to affect her judgement.”

Ditzy’s head tilted and her mismatched eyes narrowed. “Did she do something wrong?”

“I wouldn’t call it wrong, but there was some alcohol involved and one thing led to another…” I finished on a slight nod.

There was a slight gasp from Ditzy as she covered her mouth. A perceptive observer would also note a slight unfurling of wings as well. “What happened after?” she asked from behind her hooves.

“We decided to give things a while to settle. Clear our heads,” I said and Ditzy nodded. “I’ve gotten myself involved now, and you know I can’t resist meddling. I’ve already spoken to Caramel and I’m going to see if I can’t get Carrot Top to cut down her workload.”

Ditzy nodded again sagely. “We don’t want another baked-bads incident.” Ditzy’s right eye twitched counter-clockwise. Remember, Ditzy has a love of muffins that goes into obsession, and regularly eats them by the half-dozen. Try not to imagine the level of food poisoning she got after eating what Equestrian Baker Magazine called, ‘The worst thing since Discord’s Upside-Down and Inside-Out Cake’.

“I doubt she’d get that bad, but yeah.” I leaned forward. “You know her better than I would. So, what can you tell me about Carrot’s past relationships?” I was gambling on this, Ditzy could be my best source of information about Carrot, and I’d built up some good will over lunch that could loosen her lips.

“Umm,” Ditzy said with confusion on her face. “Why?”

“It’s a quick way to find out about how she thinks,” I reasoned. Not that this was ever going to sound normal.

Ditzy’s eyes twirled a few times while she thought. Eventually she said, “She had a fling with Big Mac a while ago.”

“Really?” I said as I bounced that around my mind. “Actually, that explains a bit.” Another thought popped up. “Hmm, isn’t Applejack supposed to be super protective?”

Ditzy blushed. “She caught them together in a hay stack.”

I blinked a few times. “Well, sounds like they were following tradition there.”

Ditzy looked like she was about to ask me about that when a cry of slightly distorted pain came from across the town square. Our heads shot around to find the source. Out in the square a fight had broken out and I had to rub my eyes to be sure what I was seeing was real.

Pokey Pierce was getting beaten up by Fluttershy.

“Is that?” Ditzy asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I mumbled back.

“And is she?”

“Kicking the stuffing out of Ponyville’s most acerbic stallion? Yeah, she is.”

Our heads tilted to the left, and we watched in stunned shock as Fluttershy spun Pokey around, bucked him into the air, and then flew up to slam him down on the ground. Wisely, Pokey didn’t try to get back up.

“I’m going to go over there,” I said reluctantly. “Ditzy, could you go find some guards, in case I need them to save me?”

Ditzy looked kinda relieved. “Yeah, good luck,” she added and she quickly took off.

Fluttershy stood with a hoof on Pokey and reared up in the air yelling, “Nopony pushes New Fluttershy around, nopony!”

Suddenly I wasn’t too keen on walking over there. You know what’s scary? Imagine a cute and innocent looking rabbit suddenly leaping and biting at your face. Now that was what Fluttershy looked like to me.

Thankfully it didn’t have to be my problem. Cloud Kicker and Blossomforth landed behind Fluttershy, who promptly turned to face the fresh targets. Cloud’s a competent hoof to hoof fighter, I’ve seen her break another pegasus’s wing mid-flight before, and so I was reasonably sure she could deal with Fluttershy. Blossom might be helpful in that fight as a distraction and Ditzy would have the guards over here soon.

So while all the pegasi were distracted, I nipped in and threw Pokey onto my back. “Come on,” I murmured and stepped back just as Fluttershy gave a berserker war cry and flew at Blossomforth. The pair rolled away in a cloud of dust as a crowd of ponies spontaneously gathered to watch.

I looked over my shoulder to check on my cargo. Pokey didn’t look so good; he was looking around blearily and could barely keep focus on anything. Worse, I could see a crack around the tip of his horn. “What did you do to Fluttershy?” I asked. It’d have to be something insane to get the kindest pony in existence to turn into a wrecking ball.

Pokey didn’t answer. Instead, he just stared over at the ruckus where the two mares were still trying to fight each other as they rolled around in the dirt. I tilted my head to try and make it out. Fluttershy had Blossom pinned down, but somehow she was flexible enough to bite back.

Then Cloud Kicker said, “Is it just me, or is this kinda hot?”

The entire crowd inched away from her. I suppose Cloud, by sheer dint of who she is, would have a broader range for that sort of thing. I can’t think of anypony else in town who’d like this, except maybe… oh dear.

I looked over my shoulder at the colt on my back. Pokey Pierce was staring shakily at the two ponies fighting on the ground, he was breathing a bit more heavily and a little faster too.

“Okay, we need to get you to a hospital,” I said and set off at a brisk canter. Pokey complained unintelligibly as I took him away. I didn’t care; he could watch that sort of thing on his own time, and not on my back.

Overhead I could see Ditzy leading a trio of guards towards the fracas. So at least that problem was sorted, for now at least.

The mayor met me at the hospital.

“How is he?” she asked me as we looked into the room where Pokey was getting some sleep.

“He’ll be fine. There was a slight fracture on the horn, which concussed him pretty badly, but Doc Stable’s tended to that. Pokey just needs to lay off the magic for a few days, rest, and put a bit more dairy in his diet.”

“Good,” the mayor said with a nod. “I’d had worried this might have been worse.”

“Blossomforth?” I asked.

“Just bruising,” the mayor said. “But I’ve been told that there have been a number of other incidents around town.”

“Fluttershy as well? She’s released a lot of repressed anger in that fight today.”

“Not just her,” the mayor sighed. I looked over at her with an eyebrow raised in interest. “There have been a dozen ‘rage’ incidents from several different ponies across town and I wouldn’t have expected this sort of thing from any of them.”

“Why not?”

“They’re all the quiet types that would never raise a hoof in anger.”

I contemplated the ceiling for a moment. “Quiet types, doormats, the sort of pony who’d never inconvenience somepony else with their problems, right?” I said before adding darkly, “The type that would hold their anger in until they blow.” The mayor nodded. “Who all attended an assertiveness seminar.”

“So it would seem,” the mayor said. “And I’m worried that there are more incidents that I haven’t heard about.”

“That Fluttershy blowing up is just the tip of a big ugly iceberg.”

“Thank you for putting it so eloquently, Time Turner.”

“It’s a gift. Don’t worry about it, it won’t last. They’ll vent their anger and everypony will just move on,” I said I breezily waved my hoof in the air. “It’ll be all back to normal before anypony notices.”

The mayor took her glasses off to rub her eyes. “As much as I would like to believe that, Time Turner, you forget something.”

“Hmm?”

“All these troubles can be traced back to Iron Will’s seminar. His methods and phrases are all over the town because Fluttershy yelled them every time she did something.” The mayor was starting to sound really worried now, and she was staring into Pokey’s room like it was a dark tunnel. “Iron Will did his seminar with my permission. My signature is on the contract, and the town is receiving a cut of the profits.”

“And we’ll probably do good things with it. We’ll more than make up for any problems caused.” I could see the light at the end of the tunnel.

But the mayor saw an oncoming train. She looked at me with panic building behind her eyes. “Nopony will care because this was my fault.”

There was a gasp from behind us. We froze and slowly turned to look.

Lilly Valley was standing behind us. She had a small bundle of her speciality lilies in a bouquet held in her mouth.

My eyes narrowed. “Lilly, how long have you been listening?”

“Not long,” she said around the flowers. She looked down at them, past us at Pokey’s room, and back to us while smiling nervously.

The mayor coughed politely. “Lilly—”

Lilly flicked her head, threw the flowers into the room and bolted. She left behind her a cloud of dust and a lily that fell from her mane.

I picked up the lost flower. “She’s probably going to go find the rest of the Flower Trio.” I shook my head. “The entire town will know about this within an hour.”

The mayor fell back onto her haunches. “I’m doomed,” she said quietly. “My political career, ruined.” Her left eye twitched. “Unless…” she hissed. Her eyes started to bore into me. I took a step back, but she left up and seized me by the shoulders. “Time Turner, you need to find Iron Will and get him to fix this!”

“Mayor, calm down.”

“No! If we don’t fix this then it’ll get into the paper, they’ll add a ‘gate’ name to it and it’ll cost me the election!”

“Mayor, it’s another two years until the next election.”

“They’ll still remember. Worse, my opponent will use it.” The mayor was right in my face, her glasses making a dent in my muzzle. “Fix it!”

“Yes, mayor.”

“Good.” She stepped back and took a deep breath. Then she went into Pokey’s room, picked up the flowers Lilly had thrown in and put them in a vase by the bed. When she came back out she was calm again.

She looked over her glasses at me. “Why are you still here, Time Turner? Remember, your name is on the contract too.”

I got moving.

I’d swung by my house to pick up my bags with the signed contract, and as an afterthought I put my hat on as well. I was going into potentially assertive negotiations with a minotaur. The hat would help.

My first destination was the hedge maze, but it was empty when I got there. The stage had been packed up, but the carriages were still there. He was still around somewhere. I went back into the town and started searching. Iron Will had to be off collecting his fees for the seminar and I’d run into him soon enough.

As I rambled around I started to notice ponies talking. They always do, but I couldn’t help but think they were talking about today’s events. Gossip is never fun when you start to think you are the target.

I heard a buzzing sound flying toward me and I looked over my shoulder. It was the filly again. Little Miss Scooter, and she had a cart attached to the back of her setup with her friends.

Just to be annoying, I waved at them. The two passengers waved back, and then something weird happened. Everything slowed down. As I watched the two fillies continued waving in slow motion, honest smiles on their faces, while the driver shot a glare in my direction before her wings moved just a little bit faster in slow motion flapping. Instead of a continuous buzz I could hear each wingbeat which was suddenly drowned out by a loud crash that hadn’t been slown down.

Then, as soon as it happened, it ended, and the fillies shot off again at regular speed.

Looking around though, nopony else seemed to have noticed what had happened. It was like time had sped up for me, or the world had slowed down, just for a few seconds. I pulled my watch out from under my hat and checked it against a nearby clock.

There was a difference, I couldn’t be quite sure, but my watch was a few seconds out of sync. I’d need to check the royal clock to be sure, but I had a hunch that somepony nearby had cast a time spell.

I remembered the normal-sounding crash and went in that direction. I had to find who cast it. Time spells are grossly illegal. In fact it’s enshrined in the big unicorn ‘Don’t’s’ under number six as: ‘Thou shalt not alter the timeline’. In theory it’s limited to paradox creating spells only, but in practice it bans anything involving magic and time. Mainly because anypony breaking the little rules will quickly graduate to breaking the big ones. Especially as anypony toying with time will generally go entirely unnoticed by anypony else.

Needless to say, my little time turn trick broke more than a few of those little rules.

I ran past an alleyway and heard a groan. Doubling back, I looked in to find a couple of ponies with trash cans over their heads.

“How the buck did that twerp do that?” came an echoing voice from inside a can.

The other got his hooves around the other and pushed it off. Trash fell out around him.

“Donno, but when we find that drillhead again, I’m going to—Who the buck are you?” he said as he noticed me.

I stepped into the alleyway. “The better question is, what happened to you two?”

“Not tellin’ you bozo.” The other one got the can off his head and stood up. Both outsized me, although but neither was as large as Mac.

“Why don’t ya just run off, Brownie. Before I trashcan your flank.”

“Sticks and Stones may try to break my bones, but your threats will never hurt me.” Figures, I’d have to run into these two morons. Sticks and Stones here had probably the worst reputation in town for being stupid, and nasty. Because of that nopony likes them, and so they hate everypony else for it. Give them a chance and they’d hurl mildly inventive insults while threatening you with actual violence. Best part is that they’re probably stupid enough to follow through on their threats.

I looked between the two of them. Their attempt to look intimidating was ruined by the garbage in their manes. “Looks like you two finally managed to annoy somepony bigger than you, who was it?”

The browner one, Sticks I assume, said, “Nopony, nothing happened, and if ya know what’s good for ya, you won’t say nothing.” Of course neither wanted to believe they’d been beaten, and so they’d pretend it never happened.

But I had to know who cast the time dilation spell. “You know what? Tell me and I won’t,” I said. “Or are you two too scared to admit a unicorn managed—” All credit to Stones, I didn’t see that sucker punch coming.

The hoof came from the side and knocked me off my hooves. I fell against the wall and felt at my jaw. It hurt badly, definitely a fracture.

The two advanced on me with smirks on their little smug faces at my pain. I pointed at the grey one and said, “You’re going to regret that about five seconds ago.” Though what I said probably didn’t sound too clear through the broken jaw. “Back up.” Which honestly sounded more like ‘ach ut’.

I stopped it just as Stones moved to throw his punch. With forewarning, and recent memory of the pain, I ducked the punch. Stones had thrown everything he had into it and stumbled forward toward me.

My counter wasn’t nearly as nice as his first punch. I didn’t go for the side of the jaw like he did. No I was far, far, too annoyed. Instead, I brought my right hoof up under his jaw and hit him with the most vicious uppercut I could manage. There was a clack noise as I drove his teeth together in his mouth – probably something he’d need a dentist to check.

Stones stumbled back and Sticks stepped forward to stand between us. I pointed at Sticks, “Are you going to tell me who, or do I have to do that again?” I bluffed. Sure the time turn saved me that time, but it would be a couple of minutes until I could do that again, and there were still two very large angry ponies in front of me.

“Not telling you nothing,” Sticks said. That clinched it. I wasn’t going to get anything out of them.

“Alright then.” I slowly started to back out into the street. “Here’ a tip for you two chuckle heads. Keep acting like this, and one day you’ll going to piss the wrong pony off. Clean up your act before someone forces it on you.” I backed out into the street, not wanting to take my eyes off them until I was out in full view again.

Once out, I stormed off. I was frustrated that there was so little I could do about them. Those two were already on the ‘do not serve’ list of every store in town, and the Gentlecolt’s Club had quietly agreed they wouldn’t receive any help from its members. On top of that, most of the stallions in town were waiting for an excuse to deal with them themselves.

Ironically, if I’d let them beat me up; it would have given the town the final excuse needed to get rid of them permanently. But they’d escaped that, and I didn’t even get the caster’s name. Whoever it was must have had their own problems with the pair to risk the heavy penalties for using a time dilation spell.

I shelved the mystery and my misgivings with S&S for the time being. I had to find Iron Will. I had to hope for more clues on the former, and the latter would soon take care of themselves.

I eventually found Iron Will and his goats in the market row among the farmer’s stalls. He had a little basket full of apples and was negotiating with Carrot Top over the price of carrots.

“Iron Will could buy carrots for his goats from anypony else. Why should we get them from you at that price?”

Carrot stood up with hooves braced against her stall. “Nopony else sells the Vanhoover Sweet carrot that your goat wants.” She pointed at one of the goats who had half a carrot sticking out of his mouth. The goat was also giving the minotaur kiddy goat eyes.

“Iron Will shall be in Vanhoover in two days, and can buy them then.”

“Then you’d be buying from my parents, and they won’t undercut me.”

The minotaur lent down to stare at Carrot from across her produce. “Then you’d better undercut them, or I won’t buy anything!” The goat bleated, but Iron Will snorted at him to shut up.

“Eighty bits for the entire stand,” Carrot offered. She had about seven bunches of around ten, so a decent price.

“Sixty,” the minotaur said as he flexed his muscles enough to fill the entire stand front.

“Seventy and that one’s free.” Carrot nodded toward the goat who had surreptitiously tried to snag another.

The minotaur stepped back. “We have a deal,” Iron Will said calmly. He made a fist and bumped it against Carrot’s hoof. A goat nipped forward and Iron Will took a bag full of bits from it to give to Carrot. Another goat came forward with a cart which Iron Will slid all the carrots into. Iron Will nodded politely, and said, “Thank you.”

Carrot Top nodded back before she noticed me. “Time Turner.”

“Hello, Goldie,” I replied and turned to Iron Will. “Mr Will, there is a slight problem with your seminar.”

“A problem,” he groaned. “Two dozen towns and this is the first one to give me trouble.” The quiet acceptance surprised me. I’d been expecting a shouting match.

“Something happen?”

“Miss Fluttershy wasn’t satisfied.” He looked up at the sky and said, “Everypony has always been satisfied until now. The performance was perfect.”

“That’s actually the problem,” I said. “It was too good, and now there are ponies all over town arguing. Fluttershy herself got into fights twice today, and she’s never hurt a pony before.”

The minotaur rallied. “Then Iron Will’s methods are working, ponies are being assertive and standing up for themselves.”

Carrot Top spoke up. “There’s been a lot more trading in the market today. Buyers have been more courageous and we’re selling extra stock because of it.”

“You see! Iron Will’s methods have revitalized this market.” He struck a pose. “And now the sales are reaching their targets.” If the goats hadn’t been distracted I’d have probably seen fireworks then.

“But it’s causing another problem,” I said. “Do you want to leave ponies dissatisfied?”

Iron Will fell out of his pose with a sigh. “What’s wrong?”

“The doormats you teach are lashing at with the slightest provocation. Fluttershy’s dumped garbage over ponies, literally kicked another pony out of a cab, and got into a dust-up with a friend.” I shrugged. “You probably never noticed this before, but Fluttershy’s an extreme example. The problem is that your doormats have probably been pushed around for years, and they’ve built up a lot repressed anger that they never released.

“Fluttershy herself probably had decades of anger she never dealt with, but since you’ve given them an outlet, they’re dumping it on other ponies. Some might deserve it, but there are others that don’t and they’re suffering instead.”

Iron Will accepted this quietly while rubbing his chin and began to pace as he thought about it.

“If it helps,” I added quietly. “Word has already gotten out, and you’ll probably start to get refund requests if you don’t do anything about it. The mayor would also like to remind you that you’re liable for damages.” Liable, that’s a word that makes businessponies sweat, and the threat of mass refunds tends to work as well. I’d delivered a bit of a stick.

Carrot stepped out from behind her stand and stood next to me. “Mr Will, you said it yourself. You’ve improved business here at market, and if ponies are expressing their anger then that’s a good thing. At least it isn’t eating them up inside.”

“It’s causing problems though,” I added.

“True,” Carrot accepted with a nod. “But that just means you need to modify your seminar. You can also help ponies by showing them how to vent that anger properly. If you do that, then everypony will be satisfied.”

Iron Will stood in front of us. “So, I should add a…” he paused to think. “…An Anger Management topic to the seminar then.”

Carrot and I glanced at each other, and then we nodded. “It might help to do it sooner rather than later,” I added.

The fire came back into the minotaur. “Then to keep Iron Will’s satisfaction guarantee, Iron Will shall run another seminar tomorrow.”

“With free entry,” Carrot Top added.

“With free entry,” Iron Will echoed. “But first Iron Will must learn anger management. Where is the nearest library?”

I pointed down the road. “That way, it’s the big hollow tree in the centre of town, you can’t miss it. And if you want to find a book quickly you should ask the dragon, not the pony.”

“Iron Will thanks you, and hopes to see you both tomorrow.” The minotaur stepped backwards onto one of his goats and it started off down the street. The rest followed, one seemed to be eating its tie.

We watched them leave and I commented, “I hope Spike will be paying attention, otherwise he might lose a few books to those goats.”

Carrot Top giggled. She looked back over at her empty stall. “Looks like I’m done for today, what about you?”

“I’ve done my work for this week.”

“So, would you like to go get some coffee together?” Carrot Top asked politely.

Time for a decision I suppose. Goldie’s made her choice by the sound of it, so now I have to. I thought quickly, this had been running through my mind for the last week, but I’d always come back to my original conclusion.

“Sure,” I said. “But first I need to put all this away.” I nodded to the bags on my back and gave them a little bump.

“I’ll come with,” Carrot said. She went behind her stall and got her cart. “Do you mind if I leave this by your place?”

“No problem, you can just leave it around back,” I said with a shrug.

We set off down the street together. The good thing about Ponyville is that you’re never far from where you want to go.

“So,” Carrot said as she walked along side. “How was your week?”

“Dull, with the occasional blip of interest. Nothing I’d write home about, you know.”

“Mine wasn’t bad,” Carrot replied. “Caramel came out to see me yesterday, he said you sent him.”

“Yeah, I did.” I looked back at her empty cart. “Did you decide to hire him?”

Carrot nodded, “It took a few hours to show him what to do, but he got to work quick enough. With all the extra planting I might be able to start selling carrots out of town soon.”

“Sound like things are working out.”

“It’s just a start, I have to see how things pan out first. Thanks for sending him out though.”

“You knew that you needed the help, I just nudged things along.”

A few moments later we arrived. “Here we are, come around back and we’ll leave your cart there.” I unlocked my back door while Carrot unhitched herself.

“Why do you lock your door like that?” Carrot asked.

“Come have a look inside and see.” I opened the door and let her go in first. I followed her and waited for her to ask about it, ponies usually do.

Tiiiiicccckkkkk

toooccckkkkk

“How did you do that?”

“Practice,” I said smugly as she tried to work it out. The walls of my hallway are lined with pendulum clocks made by yours truly, and they tick in sequence. The clock by the front door ticks and the sound travels down the hall as the others tick, creating an interesting sound wave effect. Then the clocks tock. “They’re fifty bits each and come with my personal guarantee.”

“That’s amazing.”

“If you think that’s amazing then you should see the zebrican one I have upstairs.” I pointed down the hall. “The lounge is down the hall and on the right. I’ll just go put this stuff down in my work shop.”

We split off and I took the door on my left into my ‘Timeless Room’. In here clocks wait to be repaired or made. A few prototypes lie around, as well as spare parts for the town’s clock tower. I went over to my drafting table and took out some note paper and a pencil.

I took my watch out and checked it against another sitting on my desk. I did a couple of fast calculations on paper and took out another sheet to write a letter on.

To Siren,
from Time Turner.

Siren, thanks for the heads up. I’m not sure if this is quite what you’re looking for, but something unusual has happened in Ponyville.

Today I caught a hint of a sixth law violation cast by an unknown unicorn. The effect was brief – judging by the time dilation effect on one of my watches vs one at home – it sent time out of sync by around six seconds. Time was dilated to around thirty-five to forty percent of normal for a period of approximately two seconds where I was, but probably more dilated closer to the caster, around twenty-five by my guess.

During this period, the caster threw rubbish bins over the heads of two assailants. I will include copies of their records from Ponyville’s town hall. They refused to identify whoever they were harassing,unfortunately, so I don’t know who cast it yet. I’ll find out soon enough though. There can’t be many unicorns capable of that, T Sparkle perhaps, but beyond her it’d have to be an alpha or talented beta.

On a final note, the two assailants managed to… annoy me. They are on very thin ice as is in town, and it’s only a matter of time before they do something stupid. When that time does come, I’d consider it a personal favour if you fast tracked them for a reform spell treatment. I know you’re not a fan of that sort of thing, but trust me, they deserve it.

Wishing you all the best
Time Turner

I put the letter under the watch. I’d have Ditzy take it when she did her next delivery.

I mussed my hair back up and went out to catch up with Carrot Top. She hadn’t sat around while I was busy, and I found her playing with the vault in my lounge room. She was trying to see into it through the keyhole in the center of the door.

“Looking for something, Goldie?”

She looked back at me over her shoulder. “Why do you have a giant vault in your lounge room?”

“Because I didn’t think I could get it up the stairs safely.” I rubbed my chin. “I thought about putting it in the basement, but I’d never get it out of there. Wouldn't want to drop it either, it made a crater in the ground last time.”

“No, why do you have a vault? This has to be solid steel. It’s probably worth what, two thousand bits?”

“Thunderforged steel actually,” I said matter of fact. “Add another thousand bits or so to your estimate.”

“How did you pay for it?” Carrot asked as she ran her hoof along the smooth finish. The fall hadn’t even scratched the surface of the thing, it’s quality work.

“I didn’t, but there’s a long story behind it.” I couldn't help but smile at the memories. “If you want to hear it we can go get coffee from someplace and I’ll tell you.”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “I’ve got time.”

The Pony Who Uses Blunt Force Drama

The door opened just as I finished knocking. Caramel knew I’d be coming. We’d done this for a couple of days already.

“Morning, Caramel.” We bumped hooves. “Carrot Top ready yet?”

“She’s still getting ready upstairs.” He rolled his eyes. “She’s been a while.”

“Probably curling her mane,” I said as I looked for light coming through the floorboards upstairs.

“Come in,” Caramel said with a nod of his head.

“You okay with doing this for another day?” I asked as we went over to the couches.

“You’re not the one paying me, Turner. Anyway, it’s doing her good.” We sat down in Carrot Top’s lounge area. “With all she was doing to keep this farm running on her own, she probably deserves a better vacation.”

“Like I could drag her away from this farm for anything less than a national emergency,” I said with a roll of my eyes. At Caramel’s suggestion, the last few days had been an impromptu vacation for Carrot Top. I’d done my part by following her around, providing conversation, being supportive, and shooting down any ideas of going back out to the farm to check on Caramel.

It was amazing how much work can go in to having fun. The only problem with Carrot’s vacation was that there was only one of me – usually – and so I’d had to put off any investigation into my time warping friend.

“Well, since we’ve got a minute,” Caramel said. “Think you could do me a favour?”

I shrugged. What was a little effort among friends? “Sure, what’s up, Caramel?”

“You remember Colgate right?”

“Blue on blue with suspiciously white teeth, and thinks you’re the perfect stallion to fill that gaping hole in her heart.” I gave Caramel a wry smile. “Am I getting close?”

Caramel shot me a neutral stare. “Yeah, that’s her.” He sighed. “Remember how you said I shouldn’t spend time alone with her and let this all fade away?”

“Not working?”

“I think it is, but she wanted to set up a dinner between us.” He leaned back against his couch. “I managed to convince her to make it a dinner party instead.”

Probably didn’t take much convincing then. I noted.

“So,” Caramel continued, “We’re inviting friends along as well, and I thought you and Thunderlane might like to come.”

“Sounds like fun. When is it?”

“A few days, I’ll let you know when we lock a time and date down.”

The sound of hoof falls on the stairs interrupted my response and I leaned back over the seat to get a look.

“Good morning you two,” Carrot Top called as she came down. Over the last few days I’d swear she’d got a few more curls in her mane and her golden coat had gotten a little more gold in it. “Time Turner, I’ll just get some breakfast and then we can set off.”

“Take your time, there’s no rush.” I called back.

Caramel waited until she was over in her kitchen before he nipped across to my couch. “So how are things going between you two?” he asked with a voice just above a whisper.

I shrugged. “It’s been fun: we’ve spent time walking, talking, and swimming together.” I saw an unasked question on Caramel’s face. “In the lake over by Whitetail,” I filled in. “She’d been on her own for so long I think she’d forgot she could still have fun with friends. I’ve been helping her catch up with them again as well.”

“That sounds good.” Caramel checked that Carrot wasn’t listening and said, “So, have you, you know?” he nodded at Carrot.

I blinked slowly and said nothing.

“You know, done more than friendship stuff. With her.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Done stuff. Um. Nudge, nudge, wink… and stuff.”

I just folded my forelegs together on the seat and waited.

“Have you… kissed?”

I took a moment to think that one over. I shook my head, “No, not really.”

“Hey, boys.” We both turned to look over at the kitchen. “I’m going to make some omelettes, you want some?” she asked with a wave.

Caramel and I shared a look, and I gave him a shrug. Caramel turned back and called back, “Like we’d ever turn down free food.”

“Won’t be long,” Carrot Top called back before she went over to her fridge. If memory served, I knew that she tended to have a lot of eggs around for baking anyway. Every farmer needs to know how to make some form of pie or cake made from their own produce. Then there are the usual semi-religious rivalries between cake and pie bakers, with fundamentalists divided over styles and ingredients.

I hadn’t seen Carrot make a carrot pie yet, if such a thing exists. So, that would put her carrot cake up against Applejack’s apple pie. Now that was a competition I really wanted to see.

As a supreme cake baker, a mere omelette with a side of carrot juice and baby carrot green salad was a trivial effort for Miss Golden Harvest.

“This is a lot of breakfast, Goldie,” I said as Carrot Top offloaded the small feast. “How often do you eat like this?”

“It was fun making it,” she said as she took her seat.

“And the occasion?” This wasn’t something she’d make every day when some cereal would do.

Carrot Top shrugged. “Just felt like it. Is there something wrong?”

Caramel looked up from where he’d been face deep in his food. “You looking a gift horse in the mouth, Turner?”

“Just worried I’ll be paying for dinner,” I quipped. “Can somepony pass the pepper?” Caramel slid the tumbler over to me and I gave my omelette a dose before starting on it. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the smile on Carrot’s face.

“So, what were you boys talking about?”

Caramel froze mid bite while I calmly continued mine. If Caramel was going to fall apart whenever a mare discovers one of the metaphorical under-the-mattress sugar stashes, then he wasn’t ready to be coltfriend material.

“Uh, um…” Caramel took a moment to consider his response, and said, “Nothing?”

Carrot Top looked like a cat with a roomful of mice. “If it was nothing, then why did you have to cosy up to Turner to tell him?”

Caramel froze completely. Someday, a mare is going to have her tail wrapped right around his neck.

“Caramel’s got a dinner party coming up,” I offered through a half full mouth and swallowed. “And he wanted me to come along.”

“And that’s it?” she asked warily.

“It’s with his supposed marefriend, who has a crush on him, and Caramel wants to break it off gently.”

“Oh…” Carrot Top winced. Suddenly she found that mouse she thought she cornered was just a sour lemon. “I see.”

“Yep,” I said. “But that’s a problem for another day, isn’t it Caramel?”

“Yeah, it is.” Caramel still looked like a frog in a spotlight.

I leaned over toward Carrot and whispered, “See the problem, Goldie?”

“Yeah.” She smiled sheepishly at Caramel. “If you’d like to take a cake along, I’d be happy to make you one.”

“I’m sure Colgate would appreciate it.” Caramel looked toward the clock and gasped quietly. “I’d better get to work,” he said before scooping up the last of his food and all but tossing his juice down his throat.

“In that case,” Carrot said. “Caramel, could I get you to plant the southwest quarter? I’ve got a few more seed sacks out in the barn.”

“Sure thing, Boss.” Caramel nodded. “Have a good day.” Caramel stood up and made for the back door.

“Probably came on a little strong there, Goldie.” I took a sip of my drink. “Anyway, it isn’t anything the gossip circuit probably doesn’t already know.”

“But I didn’t know Colgate had a crush on Caramel.” Carrot’s cat like grin returned. Somepony had been paying attention. I nodded in acknowledgement.

“So,” I said, “What did you want to do today?”

Carrot tapped a hoof on the table. “Not sure. Any ideas?”

“We could always go take a walk in the park, that street musician might be playing her harp. She’s got some serious talent with the thing.”

“Lyre,” Carrot said.

“Honest, Goldie. She’s great with the harp. Come on, I’ll show you.” I stood and led the way to the front door. Carrot muttered something about ‘waiting her entire life for that’ and followed.

I walked briskly and let her catch up to me at the front gate of the farm. Together, we walked along side each other as we went up the road toward Ponyville proper. We didn’t say anything at first, but we could both see the metaphorical tree trunk on the road.

“So, how much did you actually hear?” I asked, wondering if she’d heard my earlier conversation with Caramel about us.

“Most of it.” Carrot gave her ears a few flicks and smiled. “Not much privacy without walls.”

“Well…” I tried to think of a good way to summarize this. “I’m not exactly the most expressive pony around, and perhaps I might not be meeting your expectations.”

Carrot slowed down. “Turner, you’ve been with me a lot in the last few days.” We slowly came to a stop in the middle of the road. “You basically stepped into my life and helped me without expecting anything in return.”

“Not really,” I argued. “I was hoping for a discount on carrots at first, and as for the rest, I’m sure you’d return the favour at some point.”

“You haven’t asked, and I wouldn’t mind. You’ve been a good friend to me.” Carrot reached up and pulled me into a hug, nuzzling my neck and unintentionally introducing her carrot scented mane to my face.

Today’s weather was set to, ‘Rainbow’s busy, make it sunny’. The weather team probably taking their customary time off and disguising it as actual work.

Carrot and I chatted idly as we walked. Topics included: the weather, Caramel’s progress, town rumours, the price of carrots in Canterlot, and the secret to getting clocks to tick in sync.

We were discussing local farm politics when we walked into a crowd gathering in front of the bridge. Looking up I caught the reason, Twilight Sparkle was asserting her oratory skills to get everypony’s attention. She’s actually quite good at it. Shame is, she ruined the moment by wearing a set of joke glasses with novelty nose and moustache. Cue laughter.

Twilight ditched the glasses. “This is no laughing matter, we have a crisis on our hooves!” Cue gasp.

“I’ve just been visited by myself from the future.” Cue laughter.

“This isn’t a joke!” Twilight said as she leapt down from the bridge. “My future self tried to warn me about a horrible disaster that’s going to occur sometime before next Tuesday morning!”

“What kind of disaster?” somepony in the crowd asked.

“I don’t know. I got sucked back into the future before I could explain,” Twilight said. That struck a note in my head with, ‘sucked back into the future’. This was starting to sound familiar.

Then Twilight decided to take the obvious solution: Disaster Proof Equestria. Or more specifically, anywhere in an hour’s walk of Ponyville.

A checklist was produced.

Everypony available was drafted.

Then Ponyville embarked on the biggest cooperative unpaid maintenance spree since Winter Wrap Up. Everypony was quickly assigned tasks, and somepony dug up Town Hall’s maintenance backlog. So everything that had been pushed back was suddenly a priority, and the mayor was positively giddy about clearing it up.

Everypony split off to do their assigned tasks. Carrot Top went off to handle flood prevention downstream of the dam, while I was assigned the best job on the list: Fix the clock tower.

I take my timekeeping seriously. Since time is my thing, it’s practically a matter of honour. So I was fairly darn sure that every clock in town within my responsibilities was running on time. Of course that damn antique was another question entirely.

The problem with Ponyville’s clock tower is that it’s an experimental design intended to run for a longer period without maintenance. It uses a dual pendulum design and will actually stretch out to running the clock for an entire year.

When the town put out requests for designs for their new clock tower decades ago, somepony from Manehattan put this design forward. It was ‘Innovative’, an ‘Investment in the Future’, and ‘A Testament to Earth Pony Design Philosophy’. The designer wasn’t named.

Unfortunately the darn thing can’t keep time accurately for more than a week before it starts losing minutes. So once a fortnight I climb up, push the minute handle forward, and give the pendulum pair a few bucks to get them back to full tilt.

But since everypony was getting into the spirit of things, I climbed up to try and figure out a more permanent solution. Fixing it would be a longer task than I’d have time for today, but everypony needs a project.

I spent half an hour staring at various parts of the mechanism. Comparing it to some of my own designs, the main gears were fairly normal stuff redesigned to accommodate the dual pendulums, so they were fine.

The problem, I decided, had to be in the non-standard pendulums. They were ball shaped, rather than disc shaped, and they passed each other closely. Each time they crossed, you could hear them rattle as passing air pressure disrupted them. Over a few weeks, that was enough to cost seconds and eventually minutes.

The solution would be to isolate them, or switch them to a disc style and space them out a bit more. I sketched a few designs, and did a few rough calculations. The replacements would have to be the same weight or I’d have to redo the entire mechanism as well. Material would be difficult, I’d have to use the metal that made the existing pendulums. That would mean finding somepony who could melt them down. Something nopony in Ponyville could do, and the tiny forge I use to make individual gears was nowhere near that.

I was considering all this when my thoughts flew down another tangent. Following the motion of the pendulum led me to think about time periods, and then thinking about my time warping opposite number. I hadn’t really followed through on my investigation while I had been helping Carrot Top’s reintroduction into a social life.

Seeing Twilight claim a visit from a future-self was interesting. If anypony around could pull off a time spell, it would be her, but I’d never really thought she’d know any of them. Time spells aren’t something you can learn at the local library.

I packed my clock planning away and set off back toward the town.

Back in town, everypony was still in the middle of their mass maintenance montage. Twilight would be near the centre of it, so I made for the library. On the way, I stopped by my home to get my library bag with some books I’d been meaning to return.

The library itself is the ultimate bonsai project. Somepony with patience can make a nice garden, but it takes somepony special to grow a tree and then build within it. Most ponies who visit are surprised to find out that Twilight wasn’t the one who built it. Though she has rebuilt parts of it on occasion.

Stepping up to the door I rapped on it a few times. It might be a public building, but there are courtesies to follow when entering somepony’s home.

The door was opened by Spike, Twilight’s assistant, a baby dragon who rampaged through town a few weeks back. He’s much smaller now, though the ‘baby’ part is up for debate.

“Hey, Spike,” I said with a nod. “I’ve got a few returns, and I was wondering if I could get a favour.”

The young drake eyed me warily. “What is it?” Ah, cynicism, a dragon after my own heart.

“I was curious about the visit from Twilight’s future self.”

Spike crossed his arms and said, “Look, I know it sounds strange, but I believe her, and what—“

I held up a hoof to stop him. “Spike, I believe her too. Seriously.” I gave the hourglass on my flank a tap. “It’s kinda my area of interest. I just want to know what happened.”

“Um.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I wasn’t actually here.”

“Ah.” I flattened a bit. “So, I’d have to ask Twilight then.” Something I’d rather have avoided. “Any idea when she’ll be back?”

He shrugged. “Soon, I guess.”

I looked around. “Think I could get your help with this?”

“You know my price,” he said grouchily.

“Done.”

The door slammed open and a list flew through the door, followed by a unicorn.

“Spike! I’m back, we got the dam fixed. Now I need—Oh hello.” I waved back at Twilight.

“Twilight,” Spike said. “This is Time Turner, he’s trying to figure out how you time travelled so you can find out what the disaster was…” Spike frowned. “Or is… or… will be?”

“Best not to think about that,” I said as I put aside a book. “That’s a one way trip to a headache, Spike. Miss Twilight, Spike and I have looked everywhere, but we can’t find anything about time spells.” I leant back on my chair. “It’s like they don’t exist.”

“They don’t.” Her eye twitched. “Or at least they shouldn’t. My future self said they were in the Star Swirl the Bearded wing of the Canterlot Archives; they won’t be anywhere else.”

That’s interesting, locked in the archives then. Twilight obviously has access, but anypony else would probably have to know the princess on a personal basis as well.

“Twilight,” Spike asked. “Why would they keep those spells locked up?”

“Because anypony that could time travel would be able to change history… maybe.” She tapped herself on the chin as she thought about it. “Conventional theory on causality says that the timeline should be resistant to change, but if you couldn’t change the timeline, then there would be no point in outlawing time spells and keeping them locked up.”

“No.” Spike shook his head. “I meant why keep them, If they’re illegal?”

A reasonable question, but Twilight’s response was a look of horror. She stammered something about ‘destroying books’.

“If something used a time spell to change the past,” I began. “You’d need those spells to fix it.” Voice of reason I am. “I don’t suppose you know any time spells?”

Twilight shook her head. “Princess Celestia never included them in my curriculum, I never even knew they existed until today.”

Which officially crosses her off my suspect list, and leaves me with only a mystery and no leads.

Scraping the bottom of the barrel, I asked, “Apart from the princess perhaps, who else might know such a spell?”

“Nopony, if they fell into irresponsible hooves they could be a danger to reality itself.”

I nodded, “Well, at least you’re responsible.” I wasn’t even sure if I was being serious or sarcastic. “And that reminds me, I had some books to return.” I pulled my bag out from behind my chair. The bag lightened in my mouth as the books flew out and lined up in the air before Twilight.

“Thank you for bringing those back.” As each book passed her face, they went flying back onto the shelves. They all moved in jerky straight lines. It was one of the interesting things I’d always noticed between Twilight and other unicorns like Rarity. There was less sweep, and more directed force.

“I’d better get back to the clock tower then,” I said as I stood up. “Sorry I couldn’t find a solution to your problem.” A polite nod was shared before I went out the front door.

Outside, I looped back around to the back of the library.

The back door and Spike stepped out. “Did you find out what you wanted to know?”

“Close enough. Thank you for the introduction, Spike.”

“So, you’ll get me in the Gentlecolt’s Club, right?” he asked hesitantly.

I held a hoof to my chest in mock shock. “Of course. Frankly, the arguments keeping you out a fairly thin. Your rampage last month says you’re probably old enough.” Spike gave me a flat look. “And I’ll bet that alcohol doesn’t actually affect you. I’ll back you, and my friends will back me, so… done.”

“Thanks, Turner.”

“Meeting’s Friday next in Pokey Peirce’s restaurant. I’ll see you then.”

“How does it work?”

“You sit down at my table, and Thunderlane will deal you cards. Then you’ll lose everything to Big Macintosh just like the rest of us.”

The next few days were uneventful, mostly because Twilight hadn’t come out of the library in a while. There had also been a conspicuous lack of disasters and all the maintenance backlog had been cleared, so Ponyville was having an unofficial holiday.

All of Ponyville, except for Carrot Top and Caramel. Because Carrot had her holiday early, she had to get back to things. The vegetables on her farm were waiting, a fact Carrot bemoaned because she was forced to skip a mares-only booze-up in town.

I spent my time working on some clocks. My process is simple. I make the mechanism and then the basic frame around it. Then I spread them around the various artists and craftsponies around town to decorate. They get a cut of the sale and I get a batch of unique clocks to send out to stores across Equestria. Every home needs a clock or two, and ponies are willing to pay extra to get a unique one.

An hour or so before Colgate’s dinner party, I made my way out to Carrot’s farm to find Caramel. He’d spent the day ploughing a field Carrot had left to fallow and didn’t finish until late afternoon. Carrot had helped him get ready by getting out her bath and filling it up.

I walked in to find Carrot scrubbing the miserable colt in the kitchen. Every time Caramel had said he was clean enough, she found something he’d missed. Eventually Carrot just got out a scrubbing brush to do it properly.

Once Carrot declared him clean, I had the pleasure of using the trigger hose from the sink to rinse him down. A quick offensive towel down later and Caramel was smelling of carrots.

The next step was a brush down and mane combing. Caramel complained again and Carrot told him that, “Half of my friends might be there. I’m not letting you in their sight unless you’re ready.” Once she’d finished Caramel I let Carrot spiff up my mane and coat. Frankly, I’ll admit that like most colts, I have no fashion sense; so I had no issue letting somepony better at it make a few changes to my typical mane style.

Carrot had even done us a favour and made us one of her carrot cakes to bring with us. I was going to keep an eye on it, because I had a feeling it would be better than anything Colgate had on the table. Honestly, Princess Celestia herself would probably hire Carrot if she ever got word of how good her cake was.

Still, the preparations had given me time to think, and I came up with enough reasons to worry about tonight. “Right,” I asked. “So why is Colgate hosting this party again?”

Caramel shrugged. “It's just a dinner party. Does she need an excuse?”

“Even Pinkie has excuses for her parties, as thin as they tend to be...”

“This is a small town,” Caramel replied. “And if Colgate wants to get a few friends together, then that's all the excuse she needs.”

“True enough.” I need to stop being so paranoid, I chastised myself.

“Besides, it's just a few ponies and we’ll all know somepony. Colgate said I could bring a couple of friends so I wouldn’t get bored. I told Thunderlane earlier, and he said he'd come.”

“He’d never pass up free food.” I considered this and said, “So who else might turn up?”

Caramel tilted his head and hummed while he thought it over. “Couple of Colgate’s friends: Lyra I guess, and she might bring Bon Bon as well. Dunno who else.”

“I think I know Lyra, she’s that musician that sits in the park, right? Carrot and I have walked past a couple of times; not that’d she’d notice with the way she’s usually distracted by her music.”

Caramel came to a stop and turned to the right. “This is the place.”

I stood beside him as I considered the house. “It's a bit... bare.” Colgate’s house was a neutral coloured two story affair. Similar to most of the other houses around, but it was spotlessly clean and there weren’t any flowers or trees around. The path had also been swept, the grass trimmed, and the crystal clear windows had white curtains. It was well kept, but clinical.

“She's a unicorn isn’t she?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Carmel said with a nod.

“Hmm, I'm too used to seeing gardens everywhere,” I said. “This is kinda different.” We walked toward the door and I stopped a step back from Caramel. “She's your friend.” I held out a hoof toward the door.

Caramel reached out slowly toward the door, and was about to knock when the door opened to reveal a blue unicorn. “Caramel!” Colgate said with a grin. She stepped out and pulled my friend into hug. “It's great that you made it!” A moment of weird hugging later, Colgate noticed me out of the corner of her eye. “And you, Time Turner.”

I’d never felt so welcome in all my life.

“Uh. Hey, Colgate.” Caramel patted Colgate as he gently pulled out of her grip saying, “So you’ve… uh… met Turner before then?”

“I know who he is, not much more, but a friend of yours is a friend of mine.” She looked over at me again and added, “I guess.”

So I made a new friend. “Well that was easy, I thought I’d have to bribe you with this to come in.” I reached into my bag and pulled out the carrot cake.

The dentist stepped back slightly as she saw it. “Oh... thanks. But, um, I already bought food for us...”

I held it up so I could admire it. “Well I’m sure somepony will have a piece.” I shrugged. “Just add it to the rest.”

“It’s one of Carrot Top's,” Caramel explained.

Caramel’s word was enough for her, and she took it up in her magic. “Please, come in.” Colgate led the way through to her living room. There was a soft cream coloured carpet against light blue walls. In the centre of the room awooden table had been set up with chairs all around and covered with sugar free drinks and snacks. Carrot’s carrot cake was the only real bit of food on the table. I made a mental note to thank Carrot Top.

“This looks nice,” Caramel said. “Are those dried peaches?”

“Yeah, they are,” Colgate said as she took a seat. “Have some if you want.” Caramel sat down across from Colgate and I sat down on his left, conveniently close to the cake. “Caramel,” Colgate said as she gave the chair next to her a pat. “There's a space right next to me.”

I watched as the gears in Caramel’s mind turned. A moment later he stood and moved over to join his mistress, ignoring the meaningful look I was giving him. In his new seat, Caramel pulled the bowl of dried peaches across and asked, “So, who else is coming?”

“I'm expecting Berry and Lyra.”

“Sure, okay.” Caramel nodded. “I also invited Thunderlane as well.” There was a knock at the door. “That should be him now.”

“He’s only five minutes late,” I added.

Colgate stood up. “Well, that's either him or Berry.” She made her way down the hall to the door and lit her horn.

“Hey everypony,” came a voice that haunted alcoholics everywhere. Berry Punch stepped in and held up a bag. “I brought drinks!”

“Go ahead and grab a seat, Berry,” Colgate said as she shut the door. “I’m sure you—“

There was a loud crashing sound from the other side of the door, leaving it rattling in its frame. Colgate near jumped out of her skin and the world seemed to stand still as she caught her breath. “What was that?”

“That’ll be Thunderlane,” I said.

Berry laughed as she brought her bag over to the table. Colgate turned the handle on the door and Thunderlane slumped over as his support disappeared.

“Thunderlane, are you okay?” Colgate asked.

“I’m fine,” Lane said woozily as he lifted his head off the ground. “Why’d you close the door anyway? I almost made it.” Looking around Lane caught sight of us. Ignoring Colgate’s quiet apology, Lane took off and flew over to the chair between me and Caramel. “Hey, dudes, what up?”

“Captain Klutz joins the table,” Berry called over from her spot beside me on my left. Lane made a face back at her.

“You know, Lane,” I said. “You should really yell out when you’re doing that kind of thing, you know, like Rainbow does when she crashes.”

Lane shrugged. “No harm done.” Berry pulled a cup over and started pouring out a drink.

Colgate sat down across from me again. “Berry,” she chided. “I didn’t ask you to bring alcohol, you know…”

Berry put the bottle back down and flashed Colgate a grin. “You think trying to stop me would be successful?”

“I guess that’s true.”

I eyed the bottle. It was one of Berry’s recent softer vintages with only enough alcohol to loosen a pony up. Getting drunk would take more than a bottle or two. A good social drink. I turned to ask Berry about it, but she’d disappeared from the seat next to me. Instead she’d moved over to sit on Colgate’s right. Apparently I wasn’t good enough company to sit next to.

I went back to looking at the bottle, only to find it had gone as well. Thunderlane flew back to his seat with the bottle now in his mouth. He sat down and started trying to uncork it with his teeth.

Colgate looked above me and announced, “Now we’re just waiting on Lyra.”

I lifted my head to check the wall behind me, Colgate had been looking at a clock. Pendulum, but it wasn’t one of mine, and I sure didn’t remember setting it. It was still perfectly on time though.

“She’s always late,” Berry grumbled.

“I’m sure we can wait,” Caramel replied.

Lane stopped pulling at his bottle’s cork to say, “For how long?”

Berry rolled her eyes. “For however long it takes for her to wake her lazy flank up. I bet you she’s taking a nap.”

“Berry,” Colgate said gently. “She’s gotten better recently.”

“Maybe,” Berry said noncommittally before lifting her cup up for a sip.

There was a pop from beside me, and Lane hissed “yes” from around the cork in his mouth. He dropped it on the table and took a swig from the wine bottle.

“Go easy on that, Lane,” I said as I gave him a nudge in the ribs.

“She won’t mind us starting without her,” Colgate said. “As long as we don’t eat all the food.” She smiled and held out her hooves. “So go ahead and tuck in, everypony.”

Lane dropped the bottle back to the table. “Can I get a slice of that cake,” he said while pointing at the cake I’d brought from Carrot Top. The smile on Colgate’s face disappeared.

I put my hoof in the air. “I’ll have one too.” I think I was smirking a little, because Colgate’s eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at me.

“Add me to that list,” Berry chimed in.

Colgate turned to look at Caramel with a blank face that almost promised trouble. Caramel just pulled the bowl of dried peaches closer and said, “I’m fine.”

I sighed quietly. Damn it Caramel, don’t do everything she wants.

“Alright,” Colgate said as she pulled the cake over and summoned a large knife from the kitchen. With a few deft movements she divided the cake into five pieces. With perhaps more force than necessary. She gave three pieces to the ponies who’d asked. “Remember,” she said sweetly. “There’s other food on the table too. Healthier things.”

“All of it sugar free,” Berry grumbled.

“Well, yes…”

I gave in and started adding some of the savoury food on the table to my plate. I focused on carrots and grapes, the sweeter options available.

The front door opened and slammed shut. “Hi, everypony,” came a voice and its owner plonked herself down on the seat next to me.

Berry glared at Lyra. “There she is. What’s your excuse?”

“I had…” Lyra paused significantly. “Busy stuff. Going on…”

Interesting. When you think about it, Lyra doesn’t have much in the way of distractions. From what I’d heard from Carrot Top, she spends all her time playing music, or in the company of Bon-Bon. One was more likely to cause lateness than the other.

I leaned over to Thunderlane and Caramel. “Five bits she was delayed by Bon-Bon.”

Lane snorted. “You’re on.” We bumped hooves to seal the wager. Now I just need to get her to admit it. Lyra was sampling a mouthful of Colgate’s sugar free sweets and doing her best to look innocent.

I let her sit for a moment before casually asking, “Any hints, Lyra?”

“What about?”

“Oh, why you were delayed…” I grinned. “And who by.”

Lyra’s eyebrows went up. “And you want to know why, exactly? C'mon, we don't know each other all too well.” I thought I could see a slight blush as well.

“Well I’ll just have to imagine it.” I followed that up with a knowing smile. That made her wince a bit, so I backed down on that and gave her a moment to rest. I didn’t want to push too hard. So I casually, and gently, added, “Bon-Bon closed her stall a few hours ago, right?”

I’d almost thought I’d overdone it when she nearly coughed up the sweets she’d stuffed her cheeks with. I was tempted to do a time turn and try a different tack.

Lyra let loose with the righteous indignation I’d been looking for. “Could you not imagine me banging my beloved fillyfriend?” Bingo, I thought. I might still have flipped time if she hadn’t tried to turn the table on me and said, “S'like me imagining you doing erotic things with Cloud in the theatre.”

I couldn’t let that one pass, so I smiled and replied, “It could be on the big screen.” Time would tell how much of that fun night would make into the film dramatization of that adventure. Probably not much, and especially not the part with the flying cloud mattress.

Balked by my cheerful reaction, Lyra snorted and said, “Whatever you say.”

Victory mine, I leant back over to Thunderlane. “It was Bon-Bon. You owe me five bits.” Lane just grumbled into his bottle.

I settled back into eating my food. Carrot Top had done her usual magic with the cake, and the carrots were good as well. If there was one problem, it was that I was getting carrot cake too often and it was losing some of its lustre.

Caramel took the lull in conversation as an opportunity. “So, Lyra. How are things? Colgate mentioned something about getting your life back on track.” Caramel winced a bit when he caught the unintended insult he’d slipped.

“Uh…” Lyra squirmed in her seat a bit. “Something like that. I mean, it was never truly off the rails.”

“That’s true,” Berry said nonchalant. Then she leant forward conspiratorially and grinned toward Lyra. “I remember her when she first moved in.”

So now Lyra was getting tortured. For the love of Cadance, I was starting to feel a bit guilty for my part.

“Shush, shush, shush,” Lyra said to Berry. Miss Teal was starting to blush a purple colour. “We’re not going there.” Berry’s grin widened, much like the cat with a roomful of mice. Mares can be really predatory like that, give the colts some sympathy.

I glared at Caramel to get his attention, and once I had it I nodded toward Lyra and mouthed, ‘say something’. Caramel looked flustered for a moment before he coughed and said, “I meant that—well, you’re looking for work, and stuff.”

Berry was disrupted and Lyra replied, “Yeah, I am.” Then she reached out for a sugar free mint sitting in a pile from the centre of the table. It was probably some form of comfort to her.

So,” Caramel continued. “Any luck with that?”

Lyra sighed, and I could smell the mint on her breath. “… no such thing as luck, right?” Then she grabbed another mint.

“Well…” I shrugged. “Fortune does favour the prepared.”

“Good point,” Berry said at me with a can’t-be-sincere nod.

“I guess,” Lyra muttered. Lyra didn’t look like someone who habitually prepared, or at all.

The mood at the table sort of sat there like a depressed donkey for few moments before Thunderlane piped up and said, “Well, I’m fairly lucky.”

Thunderlane. Lucky. I started to laugh and things started to brighten up again.

Colgate looked at Lane with face full of surprise. “…you just slammed into my front door.”

“I meant to do that,” Lane said as he started gazing at the ceiling. Caramel hid his face in his hooves.

“Sure, sure,” Berry snarked.

“His ego’s worse than Rainbow’s,” Lyra added.

I rubbed a fetlock over my forehead. “Lane, was this like the time you meant to show Merry May how fast you could fly?”

“Well…”

“And what Dash said about that afterwards?” I added with a slight smile.

Caramel shook his head and muttered, “Celestia…” Colgate lent over to Caramel and gave Caramel’s back a rub, asking, “That sounds… interesting.” I slumped forward a bit when I noticed Caramel wasn’t pushing her away. Not blocking Colgate was half his problem.

“Somehow,” Caramel said. “He thought a good Hearts and Hooves Day involved a race…” Caramel sighed. “Through Ghastly Gorge.”

Of course we all know how that turned out.

Colgate just blinked while Lyra just said, “…depends who he’s with.” I figure that Lyra didn’t actually know how dangerous that place is.

Lane lent back in his chair and crossed his hooves. “Merry May said she had fun.”

“She beat you, Lane,” Caramel said bluntly. I added on the unsaid part, And that was before Merry realized how close you came to getting snapped up by that Quarray Eel, Lane, and started to panic.

“We should play a drinking game revolving around Thunderlane,” Berry said with a laugh. Colgate and Lyra giggled along with her.

“I think that would be bad for my health.” Then I tapped the table idly for a moment before casually looking at Lane and adding with a wink, “At least your tail can grow back.” Lane shifted in his seat as he sat on his tail. It hadn’t grown much since.

“Perhaps we should move on?” Colgate announced.

“Yeah,” Berry said as she looked for a new target. She hovered over me briefly before she shifted toward Caramel. I caught a flash of something crossing her face before she said, “So… Caramel, what do you even do?”

“Oh, farm stuff here and there,” he answered innocently. “I work for anypony who needs help, and on market days I sometimes sell the caramel treats my pa taught me how to make.”

Berry snorted. “The Apple Family wants your help?”

Caramel, Celestia bless his innocent heart, didn’t notice the implied insult. “Uh, no, not really. I normally help out with the others though, like Carrot Top.” That means a lot. Earth pony farmers, especially clannish families, tend to refuse help like Carrot Top did, and that tends to cause trouble. That Caramel is generally trusted to help shows how much faith they have in him. It’s like leaving your foals in somepony else’s care, and I’m not talking about the Cake twins.

Stonewalled, Berry stopped her attack. “Hmm, alright then.” She went back to her bottle.

I took up the subject. “Applejack isn’t one to ask. Mac usually covers anything she doesn’t.” Which is most things, if he’s been honest with me.

“That’s true,” Colgate agreed with a nod. “It’s amazing how, between those two, that they manage to keep everything up and running.”

I snorted. Clearly Colgate wasn’t in on the underlying truth. “Are we talking about the same farm? No offense to Mac, but—well, they tend to… overstate things.”

“They always have produce available to buy,” Colgate countered.

“Only because of how hard they work themselves,” I shot back.

“What’s wrong with that?” Colgate asked. “They’re happy.”

Naive girl. “Remember how bad it got last year when Big Mac injured himself?” I shook my head and lent back in my chair.

“They manage,” Caramel said before Colgate could answer.

Colgate smiled and added, “Exactly.”

Damn it Caramel. Half-heartedly I said, “They’d probably have it easier if they took Caramel on every now and then.”

“That’s up to them, isn’t it?” Colgate pointed out.

Caramel sighed. “Yeah, but I get plenty of work from Carrot Top so she can spend more time selling her carrots. She says it can get a bit lonely out there alone.”

Colgate tensed. “Mm… it might do...”

Hello soft spot, I noted. “I was out there the other day, she makes a very nice carrot cake.” I pointed at the remains on my plate. Anything to pry them apart at this point.

“You gonna eat them leftovers?” Lyra was eyeing the cake on my plate.

Caramel said something about the style of the cake while Lane and I pulled our plates closer.

“Is that a no?” Lyra asked as she gazed upon the cake on my plate.

I looked around for the rest of it. “I’ll have another piece of the cake as well.”

Lyra gasped. “There’s another piece?”

All eyes shot to the plate, and two remaining pieces. We watched each other as we sized up our opponents.

Lane was the first, and fastest to move. He shot forward and seized a piece, then inhaled it once it was on his plate. I watched Lyra and then shot forward to grab it before she could move, but just as I was about to seize it the final piece was enveloped in a golden bubble and pulled away.

“Mine!” Lyra cackled as she shovelled it down her throat.

“Damn cheating unicorns…” I muttered.

“Lyra, watch your weight,” Berry chided. “I’m serious.”

Lyra considered her options for .314 of a second. “I’m fine.” She resumed eating.

I sighed and took up the last carrot on my plate. Considering myself, perhaps I’d been eating too much cake. Thought if it started to get out of hoof I’d just have to put myself on a grass diet for a few weeks. Rare is the pony who lets it go too far. I ran the carrot around in my mouth as I tried to remember what variety it was from the list Carrot Top had introduced me to.

There wasn’t much food left on the table, sugar free or otherwise, most of it had quietly disappeared as we’d grazed our way through it. Colgate looked around the table and nodded as if checking a box on some internal list. She stood and tapped the table. “Well, everypony… I actually gathered you here for an announcement.”

I paused halfway through eating the carrot. I knew there had to be a reason for all this. Everypony watched; Lyra and Berry both twitched.

Caramel turned to look at Colgate. “What’s going on, Colgate?”

Colgate giggled and punched Caramel’s shoulder playfully. “You know, silly.”

“Uh…” Caramel froze.

Oh no, don’t tell me… Caramel, for the love of Cadance, don’t let her.

“We’re going out, of course! I thought you knew that you goof.” Then Colgate wrapped herself around Caramel and kissed him on the cheek. I could see the passion in it, the giddy joy written on her face. I could also see the panic in Caramel’s eyes, a silent plea for help.

Berry drank the last of the wine in her cup, and then started on the bottle. Lyra dropped the remains of cake we’d fought over. Lane sat still, his wings unfolded. I just swallowed the carrot. Caramel, you’ve got to break this off now.

“Umm, what I… uh.” Caramel was melting over there.

Come on, Caramel, grow a spine!

Colgate pulled out of her kiss. She looked into his eyes, and into his panic, and said, “Aww, you’re just nervous.” Then she went back in, this time kissing him full on the mouth. There was probably tongue involved.

Don’t let her rope you into this. Caramel!

Caramel pulled himself out of the kiss. Do it. “Uh… of course, sure, yeah,” he said hysterically. “We’re going out!”

There was a look of pure joy on Colgate’s face. Misguided joy. Me, I was basically the opposite.

“Oh come on!” I roared thumping the table hard enough to dent the wood. “What is wrong with you two?”

There was some blabbering from the others and Colgate blinked in the spotlight before stammering, “Uh… what, what’s wrong?”

“Caramel, how could—” I slumped back in my chair. “Buck it, reset.”

I turned everything back: my outburst, Caramel’s surrender, and back to just before their mouth to mouth session.

Time resumed, but I could still feel the pit in my stomach. Or at least the carrot going down.

Colgate froze just as she was about to introduce her tongue to Caramel’s mouth. She looked over at me, with confusion on her face. “Something you want to say, Turner?”

The pit in my stomach turned into a chasm, and the carrot fell into it. I felt a little nauseous, but I hid it. I’ve turned time back thousands upon thousands of times, and never has something changed without me changing it first. Fear, I felt fear. I was unsure like I hadn’t been in ages. The time turn was always a cushion, it was always there, fear was for ponies who couldn’t undo their mistakes.

I looked around. The table was waiting. I had to do it now.

“Caramel, don’t.”

There were gasps, Thunderlane nearly choked on something, and Colgate was staring right back into my eyes.

“Excuse me?” There was an anger behind her eyes, and fear. Probably like mine.

Lyra touched my shoulder as we stared each other down. “Uh... Turner? Might want to be more gentle here?”

I pushed Lyra away without breaking my stare into Colgate’s soul. “The both of you are rushing into this.” I blinked. Then I turned to Caramel. “Caramel, I know you’re hesitating, and I know why. Don’t let yourself be forced into something you don’t want.”

Caramel fidgeted, his eyes were focused on the table. “Yeah... but—”

Colgate put a foreleg around Caramel’s neck. “We’re not rushing into this, it’s come naturally.”

I shook my head slowly. “It hasn’t. Otherwise, Caramel would have said yes already.”

She wrapped herself around him. Caramel froze. “What’s your problem with us?” Celestia, she sounded hysterical.

“Colgate, he doesn’t love you.”

She drove a hoof down on the table. “You don’t know that!” The table was dented. Just like it had been when I’d done it, except that possibility had been erased with the unwitnessed timeline.

“I do.” I said solemnly. “And I’m not going to let the pair of you dig yourselves into a hole. A hole where the only way out is to break your heart.” I looked toward Caramel. “Come clean now, before it gets worse.”

Caramel started to squirm in his seat, and Colgate redoubled her hold on him. I said my part, it was up to him now.

Lyra broke the silence with a shaky voice. “Maybe you’d be willing to have an open relationship?” Berry Punch facehoofed hard, and Lyra collapsed as she reconsidered her words.

“Lyra, no,” Colgate said. “I’ve got something with Caramel, and you think I’m going to let it go just because Turner over here doesn’t agree with it?”

Then Thunderlane broke his silence. “Caramel, I think you should listen to Turner.” Lane coughed and resettled himself. “Don’t drag this sorta thing out, y’know? Isn’t that what they say?”

“Caramel,” I prompted with a stare.

Caramel breathed heavily. He wasn’t a pony that dealt with pressure. He didn’t run a farm, he helped others run theirs. He didn’t give orders, he followed them. Left to their own devices, Colgate would drag them into an unhappy marriage that would only last until her delusion wore off in a decade or two when they had foals to care for.

Caramel closed his eyes and swallowed. He took a deep breath before finally saying, “He’s r-right.”

“See? You’re stressing him out—” Then Colgate blinked. She turned like a glacier as she gazed into Caramel’s eyes. “What?”

“Colgate, I only wanted to be friends…” Caramel started to gently push her away. “It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have given you those chocolates…”

Then Colgate stopped. She didn’t move, and didn’t blink much. But you could see it in her eyes. Barriers she’d built up were cracking and shattering.

“B-But… we… all…” Her eyes were watering. “All of those moments were nothing to you?”

“I’m sorry, Colgate, but...” Caramel couldn’t look at her anymore.

“Just ignore Turner!” she cried. “It’s not like he has anypony anyway!” My eyes narrowed.

“That’s a low blow, Colgate,” Lyra told her.

“Well it’s true isn’t it?”

You think I’m an emotionless bastard, do you? “Well excuse me, but I’m just doing the right thing. Even if you don’t appreciate it.”

“You’re doing what you think is the right thing!” Colgate screamed at me, tears running down her face.

“Yeah, and one day you’ll thank me for it,” I said quietly. I held my cool. Shouting her down would change nothing.

“You… you… just shut up!” She shouted back, her teeth were bared, and she was a fraction of a second away from catching fire and going into a full blown magic surge. As much as I’d love to catch a rage filled bolt of magic in the face, I couldn’t flinch. I just sat back in my chair and waited.

The rage quickly disappeared and turned to desperation. She reached out for Caramel, but he just pushed her away. “Caramel, p-please don’t leave me… we had something. I-I know we did.”

Caramel left his chair, standing up and walking around to the other side of the table. That seemed to break the last barrier in Colgate’s mind, and she stammered once more before she bolted. The sound of sobbing followed her as she galloped out of sight and up a flight of wooden stairs.

We all just sat there for a while. Caramel stood between me and Lane while gazing at a knot in the wood of the table. The thoughts in his head were anypony’s guess.

Thunderlane swung his wine bottle up and drained it. “Wow,” he muttered. “Berry, you got any more in those bags?”

Berry answered with a withering look. “Lane, is this really the best time?" Lane didn’t answer.

“Goddess, that was awful,” Lyra said. “But it was the right thing to do.” She ran her hoof through her mane – probably reassuring herself. “Caramel, I… I can only apologize for putting you in that position.” Which suggested Colgate had been egged on into this as well, at least at first.

Whatever Caramel was feeling didn’t stop him forgiving Lyra with a nod. “Berry,” he said after, “I think I need a drink.”

Berry slid another bottle across the table. “Take it. Look... if you all want to, we can take this to my place.”

Considering Berry’s behaviour tonight, I wasn’t going to let that happen. “I think we’ve all been partied out.” The was a soft pop of a cork and Caramel started sucking his wine bottle dry.

“Yeah…” Lane agreed. I think he noticed as well.

“Mhm… Turner?” Lyra asked.

“Yeah?”

“That was… pretty noble of you to do. Are you alright?”

“I wouldn’t call it that.” I shook my head. I wasn’t the one who’d have to clean this up, that’d be a job for Colgate’s friends. I pointed upstairs and said to Lyra, “You’d better go up after her. I think the rest of us should head home.”

“I was planning to.” She took a deep breath and nearly sobbed as she hung her head. “Goddess… I really bucked up.” Fixing this would be good for Lyra too.

Berry Punch threw a foreleg over Lyra’s back. “It’s okay Lyra.”

“It’s not, but… thanks, Berry.”

Well, I had my own side of the problem to clear up. Caramel was looking down the neck of his suspiciously dry bottle. It wasn’t one of Berry’s soft ones either. “Alright, we’d better get him home. Lane, can you give me a hoof?” Lane gave me a nod and he helped me get Caramel onto my back. The poor bastard was emotionally shot, and wasn’t really thinking about anything other than that bottle.

Lyra came over to our late night taxi service. “If you need a talk with me, I’ll do whatever I can to help.” It was a nice offer, but she had her own problems.

I jumped slightly to shift Caramel to a better spot on my back. “I’ll take care of him, you’d better get after Colgate.”

“Yeah, take care everypony,” Lyra said with a nod and went after Colgate. Thunderlane used a wing to keep Caramel steady and I carried him toward the door.

“Guys.” Berry caught us before we went out the door. “Drinks are yours if you want them.” She passed the bag to Lane, and he shifted it behind his other wing with a clink of glass.

“I think we’re going to need them,” Lane said.

“Sure, why not,” I said. It was gift, who was I to judge. “Oh and, Berry.”

“What?”

“If you’re going to help Colgate, keep this in mind: she just needs to stop and think. She’s a dentist, so she must be a smart pony. Once she thinks this through properly she’ll be able to get past it, don’t let her wallow in anger.”

Berry nodded. “I’ll do that.”

“Thank you. Alright, Lane, Let’s go.” The late night taxi service went out the door and down the street. This time of night nopony’s really looking out the window, but if they did they’d have caught sight of one of the late night migrations.

Caramel sat on my back enjoying the ride through the haze of one of Berry’s stronger bottles, and Lane used a wing to keep him there while carrying the free wine under the other one. My hooves were all busy keeping our combined weight upright.

Fun fact: earth ponies are heavy. A unicorn does everything via magic, and though they tend to get a little chubby, they remain fairly light on muscle mass. Pegasi are wired with stringy muscles and lighter bones to keep them flying. But earth ponies are covered in thick, strong muscle, which leaves us outweighing our compatriots by a fair margin.

At the end of the road I stopped. “Lane, where does Caramel live?”

Lane opened his mouth to answer and froze. “I don’t know either.”

“How have we been friends this long, and he hasn’t told us?” I turned my head around. “Carmel, where—oh no.” Caramel was draining another bottle of Berry’s wine. “Lane, get it off him.”

Thunderlane was frozen with indecision for a moment, he was holding Caramel up and the other bottles with his wings. He juggled the bottles to the ground and flew up to catch Caramel before he fell off, but not before he finished the bottle.

Caramel wobbled about woozily while I checked the bottle bag. They were all empty.

“Ah hay. He’s well and truly past it now,” I muttered.

“What do we do with him?”

“Well he’s going out to Carrot Top’s to work tomorrow morning. Let’s take him out there. Hopefully she won’t mind him using a spare bed.”

Caramel was asleep by the time we made it out to Carrot Top’s farm. Lane flew up to tap on Carrot’s window while I practiced plate spinning with Caramel. The light came on and the window opened, a hurried whispered conversation followed before Carrot came down to open the door.

“Take him upstairs, third door on the left,” she said immediately.

“Thanks for this, Goldie. If you would give me a hoof.” I nodded at Caramel. “Lane, go see if Mac’s awake. If he is, ask him for an empty cider barrel and some apple juice.”

“What for?” Lane asked.

“Caramel’s hangover.”

“And that’ll cure it?” Carrot asked.

“He just needs to drink plenty of water,” I explained. “But I want him to think it’s cider.”

Lane nodded. “Back soon.” And he took off toward Sweet Apple Acres.

“So, why did Carmel get drunk?” Carrot asked as we watched Lane fly off.

“I broke him and Colgate up, she didn’t take it well. Liqueur here.” I gave Caramel a bump. “Is feeling guilty.”

“Come on,” Carrot said and helped us inside. “Will he be alright?”

The stairs were fairly tricky with cargo. “Should be. Just keep him busy for a few days so he doesn’t think too much about it. After that, it depends on how Colgate fares. I sent Lyra after her, so if she calms Colgate down then Caramel’s guilt will fade.”

“That’s a few ifs, Turner.”

“It is, but the best we can do is help him cope.” We came to the room and Carrot opened it for us.

I plonked Caramel on the bed. It was a single, and coloured in patterns following Carrot’s. Then I took a moment to look around the room. The shelves were half empty, curtains tied back, and everything had been packed away. It was a room in stasis.

“Whose room is this?” I asked.

“Mine,” Carrot said. “Or was. It’s my house now, so I moved into the master.” There was a sigh of reflection. “Noi’s room is the next one along, and it’s still ready for her; so I suppose this room will eventually belong to one of my own foals.”

“I hope your sister won’t be visiting in the next few days,” I asked deliberately.

“No, but she’s moving back next week. The last letter I got from my parents in Vanhoover said she was missing her friends at school. I think you’d like meeting her.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

There was the sound of hoofsteps on the floorboards downstairs. “Turner, I got the barrel you wanted!”

“Come upstairs, Lane,” I called back down. “Goldie, I don’t suppose you have a chamber pot or something somewhere?” I nodded at Caramel Liqueur. “He might need it.”

“We do, I’ll just go find it.” Carrot Top went out the door, and in came Thunderlane with one of Mac’s smaller Cider barrels.

“Mac put it together like you asked,” Lane said as he offloaded the barrel. “I think he’s done it before.”

“Can’t imagine why.” I gave Caramel a few taps on the head and presented the barrel. “Caramel, you want cider?”

Guilt and drunk logic combined to say ‘yes’ in Caramel’s mind and he nodded. I didn’t need to help much as he drained a good portion of the barrel himself.

“Don’t worry Caramel, Colgate’s fine. She forgives you,” I said while giving him a pat on the shoulder. Caramel nodded quietly and rolled over, he was asleep before you could say ‘good night’.

The door opened again and Carrot brought in a large metal bucket. Putting it beside the bed she asked, “What do you think he’ll need it for?”

“Considering how much he’s drunk tonight, it could be either one thing or the other, or both,” I admitted.

Carrot Top sighed, “We should have put him in my other sister’s room.”

“Sorry.”

“Well,” Thunderlane casually mentioned. “I got work tomorrow, so I’m gonna head off home. Good night you two.” We echoed our goodbyes and Lane went out the window. His dark coat helped him disappear the moment he flew off toward his cloud house.

“I’d better head off as well,” I said to Carrot.

“You could stay the night,” she offered. “It’s no trouble.”

I looked outside at the high moon. “I suppose I might as well.”

“Come on,” Carrot led the way out and shut the door behind us with a yawn. Then she opened another door closer to the stairs to a room similar to the other one. It was another stasis room, and less neatly put away than Carrot’s own. “It was my older sister’s. After she ran off to Applewood, I didn’t think she’d need it.”

“Thanks, Goldie, I appreciate it.”

“Goodnight,” she said with a nod, and went back into the master bedroom.

I shut the door and laid down in the bed after I shooed away a few moths from under the covers. It didn’t take long for me to fall asleep.

Caramel didn’t feel too bad in the morning, though he still felt plenty of guilt over his role in what happened the night before. Carrot Top took my advice and did her best to keep him busy. The pair of them had a lot of farm work to get through, and Carrot Top wanted to get a selection of carrots ready to send to Canterlot.

I was still useless at farming so I went back to town. I spent time drawing up my modifications to the town’s clock tower. I also spent time fruitlessly checking the town’s directory for anypony who could melt down and reset a half ton of metal. Remaking the pendulums was going to require some out of town help – probably as far as Fillydelphia or Manehattan.

I took my lunch at the café by the town’s square again. I ordered a simple sandwich and one of my guilty pleasures, a banana caramel pie. You know, whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles over a banana and caramel filled base – with a cherry on top of everything. In short, a dentist’s worst nightmare.

I was halfway through my sandwich when, guess who, sat down in front of me.

“Good afternoon,” I said neutrally. “I hope your talk with Lyra went well after what happened last night.”

“We didn’t, Berry sent Lyra home. She wasn’t happy after what you did either.” Colgate sat calmly in the other seat. Her mane wasn’t out of place, nor did she look distressed at all from last night, but the way she looked at me gave me an impression of seething anger held beneath her calm face.

“But you did talk to somepony about it, right?”

“Oh, Berry and I had a long talk.”

I swallowed. “So long as you realise that Caramel didn’t say yes. Think about that and you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, that’s the thing,” she said happily. “He did say yes.”

Okay… “Colgate, are you sure you remember what happened last night, right?”

“Oh, yes,” she said with a nod. “He said, ‘Of course, sure, we’re going out.’ Though, Berry told me she didn’t remember that.”

“Neither do I. Actually.” I took a bite out of my sandwich.

“That’s when I started to think,” she laughed humorlessly. “Because after that, you did something.” I froze mid bite. “You stood and yelled something, and suddenly everything moved backwards. It was strange, I heard everything backwards, the cake Lyra dropped fell up and nopony else seems to remember what happened.”

The smile on Colgate’s face took on a feline with trapped rodent sort of aspect. Probably because my face was painted with horror.

She leant forward and whispered, “You changed time. And it’s not the first time either. I saw you do it at your party weeks ago, and there have been hundreds of times that I’ve felt like I’d just done what I was about to do.” She shook her head slowly. “That wasn’t déjà vu, that was déjà you. And you’re so arrogant, you can change time just because you feel like it. You never even thought you might be doing the wrong thing,” she snarled.

She stared into my eyes while I stared back into hers. A connection formed. Suddenly the facts bouncing around my mind were lining up for ice-cream and recognition. A unicorn mare, magically talented, likely smart.

I stood up and walked around the table toward her. I had to check. Everypony has a mark on their flank, some are common, while others are unique. The problem with the common ones, is you’re never quite sure what they mean. In this case I’d never checked at all. It’s terribly impolite for a stallion to be caught staring at a mare’s flank.

An hourglass. Colgate had an hourglass like mine. A Time Talent, the sort of thing that would give her an intuitive feel for time spells.

“You can talk,” I muttered.

“Oh, I can. Do you know what you’ve done?” she accused and stood up to face me. “You’ve broken one of the fundamental laws of magic, ‘Thou shalt not alter the timeline’ , The Sixth Law,” she hissed.

“You can talk,” I repeated. “Because you’ve done it too. Not long ago either, shall I remind you? Cornered in an alleyway by Sticks and Stones. You felt threatened, and so you lashed out, you slowed time. It wasn’t long, but I noticed, you trash-canned those two and ran away.”

Colgate froze in shock before stammering, “I-It was sef-self-defence. They were threatening me.”

“They would. Stones broke my jaw. It didn’t quite turn out that way, but I made sure to return the favour. I don’t blame you at all, anypony with the choice would do it.” I flashed her a smile. “But you don’t just use it for that. The mayor brought me her watch a while back, it was five minutes slow. Normally I wouldn’t have noticed, but the mayor doesn’t miss appointments, nor does she forget to wind it, and I’m damn sure it’s an accurate watch.” Colgate blinked a few times fast. I’d got her there. “She did say she visited the dentist, wanted to speed up her appointment did you?”

I smiled at her, I love it when answers fall into place. “There’s another one too, last night you answered the door just before Caramel knocked. You were really quick there, I didn’t even notice you doing it. You can talk about breaking the sixth law, because you break it as well. After all, ‘Nopony is as law abiding as those with something to hide’.”

“You’re guiltier of it than I am,” she countered.

“Yes but it’s the Laws of Magic. There is no grey area, you’re innocent or guilty. So, as a courtesy, I won’t tell anypony about yours, if you don’t tell anypony about mine. Savvy?”

Her frown shook before she agreed, “Fine.”

“Fine, are you done berating me?” I said as I sat down again. “What’s done is done, and if you care about Caramel then you’ll let him go and forgive him. He doesn’t need a guilt trip every time he sees you.”

“I will then,” she said stiffly. “For Caramel, and not because you asked.”

“Fine, that’s all I care about. Don’t let me detain you.” I pointedly returned to eating my lunch.

Colgate stood and watched. “Is that your pie?” She nodded at my banana caramel pie.

I nodded while eating my sandwich.

“Do you like it?”

I swallowed. “Yes,” I said cautiously.

She picked my pie up in her magic and brought it over to her as she stood up.

“Well, have some!” The pie turned to face me, and it flew as fast as she could throw it, into my face, cherry first.

The pie fell away from my face in small pieces and onto my sandwich. I blinked it out of my eyes in time to watch her storm off down the road.

I licked what little remained from around my mouth. “Of course you realise this means war.”

The Pony Who Is Going To Have Has His Cake, And Eat It Too.

When Chancellor Puddinghead was told that her ponies didn’t have any flour to bake bread during the Windigo Crisis, she famously said, “If they have no bread, then let them eat cake!” The following silence was quickly punctuated by Smart Cookie informing Puddinghead that flour was needed to make cake as well.

Horrified at the possibility of there being no more cake, Puddinghead immediately set forth to find new land to ‘grow flour in’. Unicorn spies informed Princess Platinum of what happened and she set off as well. Hurricane’s pegasi caught up eventually.

So the existence of Equestria and modern life can be attributed to the desire for cake. So when I walked into Ponyville’s Dentistry with a trolley full of cake and said, “Happy Birthday!” You can see why there was much rejoicing.

It was very deliberately timed for twenty minutes past three o’clock in the afternoon. The Dentistry’s waiting room was full with fillies and colts just out of school that had been dragged here by their parents for their scheduled check-ups. The kids were all bored out of their minds and dreading their trip to the antiseptic scented rooms in the hallway. The parents were also getting frustrated with telling their kids not to fidget.

Before you could say, “Whose birthday?” the kids had all crowded around the trolley to get their own piece from Sugar Cubed Corner’s finest selection, including: Sticky Caramel Fudge Nougat Delight, Turbo Berry Cheese Cake, and Fizzy Fun Flan Filled Sponge – with extra pop-rocks.

The parents looked on with shock. Then I reassured them saying, “Don’t worry, they’re all here to have their teeth cleaned anyway. The dentists won’t mind.” I shrugged and took a piece of the cheesecake for myself. “It’s free cake. Have some.”

“It-sh amathing,” said one little filly, Her mouth echoed with the sound of crackling pop rocks, pupils dilated from a sugar rush, and her curly red mane was practically floating in the air. There were similar sounds of joy from the other kids.

Somepony’s father, another member of the Ponyville Gentlecolt’s Club, got a piece as well. “Thanks, Time Turner,” he said past his plate as he sat down to eat. With the first piece taken, everypony else got one as well. The receptionists also took extras for the dentists working in the other rooms.

A new filly ran out from the hallway, gasped, and joined in on the festivities. Behind her came one of the dentists and she called out, “Twist, it’s—” before freezing in shock.

It was one of those sights that scarred themselves into memory: the fillies and colts demolishing their pieces of cake, some just sitting in a daze as they listened to a crackling only they could hear, and a few giggling as they blew bubbles made from the sticky caramel lining their teeth. The parents had taken refuge in a corner and were chatting idly as they ate their own cake.

I sidled up alongside the frozen dentist as her jaw dropped. “Happy birthday, Colgate.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she found her words. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Ah well,” I said with a shrug. “It has to be somepony’s birthday somewhere.” I pushed a waiting plate on a nearby bench forward. “Caramel cake?”

She looked at the piece like it was something out of Tartarus. Then something clicked in her mind. Colgate turned to face me and stared up her glowing horn as she pointed it right at my forehead, a classic sign of an angry unicorn. “What are you doing here?”

I licked my hoof and touched the tip of her horn, defusing the glow of her magic with a hiss. “After you gave me a pie, I decided I had to give you some cake in return.” I turned to look at the party and added, “With interest.”

She slapped my hoof down from her horn and relit it. “Do you have any idea how long it’s going to take me to clean this off their teeth,” she snapped back at me.

“I’m sure you’ll find the time.” I grinned.

“I can’t do that all day,” she hissed. “This isn’t something where I just need an extra five minutes every few hours.”

“You’ll cope fine,” I said back. “Oh, and these forty seconds are free. Back up.” Colgate hadn’t noticed, but threatening somepony with your horn tends to get attention. When you think about it, a time turn was the ultimate form of privacy, nopony else can witness it and as far as reality is concerned, it never happened.

As the time turn finished, Colgate stood stunned for a moment. I put a hoof to my mouth and shushed her. “Enjoy the cake.” Then I left before she could respond, snatching a piece of the cheesecake as I passed it. Nopony else really paid me attention as they ate their free cake.

In retrospect: it was a good prank, playing off Colgate’s aversion to anything with more sugar than an apple. Although it felt a lot less satisfying than I’d hoped. The amount of money I’d had to put forward to buy those cakes wasn’t small, and I didn’t quite feel like I’d won yet.

Back home, I opened my front door and found a note wedged beneath it. I flipped it open to find Ditzy’s distinctive mouth-writing.

Turner, could you come over if you’re free this afternoon? From Derpy.

It wasn’t the first time I’d found a note like this. I’d been Ditzy’s go-to repair pony for a while now because she could pay me in muffins. True to her name – either one – she had a tendency to break anything not made of solid oak, and when she did break solid oak it wasn’t too much trouble for me to replace that either. Her front door was actually reinforced with metal and the door latch would jump open if she crashed into it. The modifications meant she could at least avoid injuring herself too badly or breaking the door when she misjudged her landings.

I got my toolbox out of the workshop and went across the road. Once at her door, I shifted my legs around to take on the extra weight of the toolbox in my mouth so I could spare a hoof to knock on the door.

There was light pitter-patter as something ran up to the other side of the door. As the reinforced door opened there was a cry of “Mr Turner!” and little Dinky attached herself to my leg. I resisted the urge to try shaking her off: it wouldn’t work, nor could I ask her to let go while I had the toolbox in my mouth. So I just walked inside.

Ditzy had a classic single story family house. Family room up the front and a hallway that led back to the kitchen that acted as the nerve centre of a family home. Ditzy could generally be found in the kitchen, so I went on down the hall.

“Hi, Turner.” To my surprise I found two mares and a filly in the kitchen. Carrot Top and the gold coated filly on her back gave me a wave, while Ditzy had her mouth full with a muffin tray she was pulling out of the oven.

I nodded at Carrot’s greeting and put the toolbox down. “Hello. Oh and, Ditzy, is this yours?” I held up my foreleg that still had Dinky attached to it like an affectionate limpet.

Carrot Top giggled, while Ditzy just smiled and said, “Muffin, you need to let go of Mr Turner if you want one of these carrot muffins.”

Dinky shook her head. “I’m gonna hug Mr Turner till I make him nice.”

I shrugged. “Don’t worry, I have a crowbar in my toolbox.” Dinky tightened her grip.

“Dinky,” Ditzy said as she slid a bowl closer for her to see. “Would you like to help me put icing on the muffins?” Then she lifted up a spoonful and let it blob back down into the mixture. Dinky’s eyes followed every drop. “I’ll let you lick the bowl when we’re done.”

Dinky’s eyes widened. “Okay…” she said regretfully. “Could you put me down please, Mr Turner?”

I let her down and she ran over to Ditzy who lifted her up onto her back so the little filly could see the mixture properly. Carrot smiled at the sight and came over, turning so her passenger could see me as well. “Noi, this is Time Turner.”

Noi stood up, shifting her hooves around to find stable places on her sister’s back. “Sis tells me that you’re her bestest friend ever.” Noi puffed her chest up and bravely stuck a hoof out with barely a wobble. “That makes you my friend too.”

I brought my hoof up to meet her gesture and solemnly replied. “Then we are friends.”

“Good,” she said. Then she tapped Carrot on the ear. “Sis, could you let me down? I want to go help make muffins.” Carrot sat and Noi slid off and over to join Derpy. When she stood back up she nodded toward the hallway and led me out of the kitchen.

“So that was Noi,” I said. “She looks a lot like you, without your mane.”

“You think so?” Carrot said as she gave her mane a quick swish. “We stopped by your place earlier, but you weren’t there. So Derpy left you a note instead.”

“I had to make a delivery,” I explained offhoofedly. “When I saw the note I figured something else had broken over here.” I looked over my shoulder and the kitchen archway. “Not to insult Ditzy, but it’s usually the reason.”

“Well…” Carrot trailed off. “As long as she isn’t doing it intentionally.”

“Somehow I don’t think anypony would intentionally break a tap, flood the kitchen, and ruin the paint on the ceiling,” I said flatly. Carrot winced. “Then the new coat of oil-based paint caught fire before it dried properly. Ditzy wanted to make sure the thank you muffin was ready before we were done.” I brought a hoof to my chin. “Although I had wondered if it had been intentional a few times before that one.”

“Why would it be intentional then?” Carrot asked.

A smile crossed my face as I said, “If a small disaster meant that you’d get a visit from a handsome stallion who’d solve all your problems, wouldn’t you sabotage your plumbing?”

The derisive look I got from Carrot Top could only be described as “Did you really just say that?”

“Even if it were Big Macintosh?” I added and Carrot’s look disappeared. “But that’s probably not going to happen.”

“Why not?”

“Because Ditzy’s moved on,” I said.

Carrot blinked. “Oh. Yes. She has.” A clang of something being dropped echoed out of the kitchen.

“So Goldie, I take it the muffins are your recipe?”

Carrot nodded. “Mostly, though we used a few other things Derpy had in her fridge.” A loud thump came from the kitchen. “I thought it would be a good time to try sultanas in the mix as well.”

A flash of light shone through the kitchen arch, but quickly vanished with a splashing sound and somepony saying, “I got it.”

A smell wafted past my nose. It had a sort of excited texture, like air after a bolt of lightning passes through it.

Carrot pointed over my shoulder to the kitchen. “Perhaps we should go back in there.”

“Good idea.”

We peered around the corner to find the two fillies holding onto a large fire extinguisher, Dinky had the hose and Noi had the trigger. Ditzy was covered in wet foam. “Uh,” Ditzy said as she held out her dripping wings. “I’ll just go rinse myself off, back in a minute.” She nipped out into the backyard.

Carrot Top looked down at Noi, who stood rather proudly with the extinguisher. “Noi, what did we learn?”

“Um.” Noi scratched her head. “Icing sugar is flammable?” I shrugged at Carrot. “But it’s okay,” Noi continued, “because we put it out.”

Carrot nodded. “Good work you two.”

Dinky bounced over to hug Noi with a “Yay!” Noi didn’t flinch from the sudden physical contact. “We won!”

“Now,” Carrot said. “Why don’t you go play in Dinky’s room?”

Dinky gasped. “Noi, I gotta show you my Battle Clouds set.” Dinky swung behind Noi and started pushing her along. “Let’s go.” Dinky slid Noi out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

After watching them leave, I commented, “Somehow, Carrot, I know Noi’s going to make you regret that.”

“I’m sure they’ll have fun,” she replied.

“If by that you mean at least one of them will have fun, then yes, you’re right.” The one having fun would be Dinky while Noi bravely put up with the constant hugs. I decided to get her a present later.

Carrot looked at me quizzically for a moment.

“I’ve said it before, ‘Nothing acts that cute without some ulterior motive’. One of these days we’re going to wake up and Dinky will have weaponized her cuteness to take over Equestria.” Carrot Top snorted with laughter. “Goldie, I’m serious.”

Carrot shook her head and said, “We’d better get the icing done.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’ll get the eggs and milk.”

“I’ll see if there’s any icing sugar left in the pantry,” Carrot said as she went to look in the cupboard and I went over to the fridge.

“You can learn a lot about a pony from the contents of their fridge.” That chestnut in mind, I gave the contents a good look – at least what was there. Ditzy’s fridge was mostly bare, what was left included: Bottled water, milk, eggs, butter – her muffin making supplies, an unopened packet of cheese, carrots, some cabbage, and three types of jam.

My analysis was: primarily baking supplies and staples, with a few long lasting luxuries. There wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary, which itself was telling. Just food that was low cost, effective, and filling while on a budget. My fridge for instance has a wider variety of fruit, salad, and a yogurt tub; I could afford diversity because I wasn’t supporting two kids on zero savings. I put the milk, eggs, and butter on the bench which left the fridge even barer.

Carrot was already mixing the icing when Ditzy returned with her mane just a little shorter and damp from being washed. “Are they ready yet?”

As the afternoon rolled past we chatted about everything from Ditzy’s rapidly escalating relationship with Cloud Kicker, to Carrot returning Noi to regular classes at the school, and the approaching Tornado Day.

As dinner approached I begged my leave. Carrot and Ditzy had more catching up to do, but I had another appointment to keep. They’d probably have more to discuss they wouldn’t want to say in front of a stallion. Just as stallions occasionally have things they don’t want to talk about in front of a mare.

But we have places to do it properly: with cards, and cider.

Tonight was yet another meeting of the Ponyville Gentlecolt’s Club. This time we were gathering at Pokey Peirce’s restaurant which had been reserved for the night. Dinner would be served, and once that was done we’d move on to Apple Two Card Poker.

Tonight I also had to keep my half of a deal. So I needed to make a stop at the library. After knocking on the door I could hear the sound of an odd pitter patter pass the door a few times as I waited. This went on for another minute and I checked progress against a clock I could see through a nearby window. I knocked on the door again, and the pitter patter stopped.

A slower noise approached and the door opened. Spike stood behind the doorway and blew a few bubbles out of a pipe. “So you remembered me.” A small phoenix on his shoulder chirped as well.

Spike blew a few more bubbles as I looked at his clothes and said, “I don’t recall your phoenix, but your fez is familiar.”

Spike brushed some dust off the burgundy coloured blazer that matched his fez. “His name is Peewee.” The little firebird chirruped and waved at me.

“A phoenix chick.” Impressed, I whistled. “That’s rare. Phoenixes live a long time. They don’t lay eggs often at all.”

Spike reached up and gave the chick a scratch under its beak. “I rescued him from some dragons. They wanted to smash his egg.”

I reached forward to give it a scratch as well. “Good thing you did, it might be centuries before his parents make another nest.” The little bird nuzzled my hoof. “This is the cutest thing I’ve seen all day.”

Spike looked a little uneasy. “Shouldn’t I bring him along then? I’m trying to drop the cutesy wootzy look.”

I blinked. “Bring him. Everypony will think he’s cute instead of you.”

“Uh. Good. I wouldn’t want everypony to think I’m lame or anything.”

“Right,” I said with a nod. “Just try to act mature, courteous, and so on. But don’t be too eager, or oversell the maturity thing. You’ve got nothing to prove. You nearly destroyed Ponyville a while back. You’ll be fine, savvy?”

“Right.” We stepped outside and Spike locked the door behind us.

“Twilight not home?” I asked.

“She’s out, but Owlowiscious is here to look after the place.”

“Who?”

“Owlowiscious. You can see him in the window up there.” Spike pointed up at the second story.

I looked up, and an owl in a window upstairs said, “Who!”

“Owlowiscious apparently,” I murmured. “Right, let’s get going.”

“Right,” Spike echoed eagerly. We set off into the evening air toward Pokey’s place. Peewee jumped over to my back and waddled around as we walked. The weather team had been busy training for the tornado in a few days, so the sky was littered with rogue clouds that hadn’t been cleaned up.

It didn’t take long to get down to the restaurant. I knocked on the door and a voice asked, “Password?”

“Time Turner, with Spike.” There was a chirrup from behind me. “And Peewee.”

“Spike?” The door opened and our regular door-pony Noteworthy poked his head out. “Time Turner, I thought the decision was that Spike was too young to join the club. He’s practically a kid.”

Spike was about to protest but I held up a hoof to stop him. Peewee bounced down my leg and back onto Spike’s crest. “Noteworthy,” I said. “Didn’t Spike nearly crush you during his rampage a few weeks ago?”

Note looked uneasily at Spike. “It was a close call.”

“Clearly he isn’t a baby, and nopony really knows if he’d be considered of age among dragons or not.” I looked back and down at Spike. “He might not even grow again unless he starts accumulating a hoard, so this might be as big as he’ll get.”

“If it helps,” Spike added. “During the Dragon Migration, I was named ‘Rookie Dragon’, which means I’m not a kid anymore.” He blew a few bubbles out of his pipe.

I nodded at Spike. “See, the dragons think he’s old enough.”

Noteworthy grumbled, “You made your point. You’ll still have to clear this past the Elder’s Table though.”

“Great, we’ll waddle over there,” I said. Noteworthy rolled his eyes and opened the door to let us pass. Ponies turned to look as I brought Spike over to the Elder’s Table by the kitchen doors. Peewee made the most of the attention and puffed his adorable little chest up.

As we reached the table I bowed my head. “Noble Elders, I request thy dispensation to permit this seeker the honour of joining our most fraternal brotherhood.” I gestured toward Spike with a flourish. Spike bowed as well, his fez held in claw. Peewee clung onto Spike’s crest for dear life.

Mr Waddle grunted with effort as he turned to look at Spike. “Isn’t he a little–” he said before he caught himself, and breathed in to give his next attempt the proper gravitas. “We recognise Spike the Seeker, but doubt the seeker’s age.”

I nodded. “Thy doubt is recognised, but the seeker is considered ready by his own people.”

Waddle leaned forward. “We serve alcohol here, Turner. Dost thou believe him capable of holding it?”

“More than us,” I replied. “The seeker can eat rock, cider will do naught.”

A grunt came from across the table. Cranky Donkey raised a hoof and said, “I nominate the seeker for membership.” A couple of the other elders glared at him. Cranky grunted again. “I’m older than most of you, I have as much say. Anyway, if he can hold his liquor, then that’s good enough for me.” I gave Cranky a grateful nod.

“Seconded,” Waddle declared. “Provided the seeker passes a test.” Waddle raised his voice, “Host, bring forth a bottle of your finest!”

I heard a crash from the kitchen and some grumbling. Pokey Pierce came out the kitchen doors with a familiar bottle of Crystal Clear, 190 proof alcohol. “I’ve got a dozen burners going and no bloody help back there. You want my finest, then here ya go.” The bottle flew across the room and landed, uncorked, on the table. Pokey went back to his kitchen.

Waddle nodded at the bottle and I passed it down to Spike. It was nearly empty, but there was still enough in there to get somepony drunk. Before Spike could lift it I put a hoof over the top. “Peewee, hop onto the table. You don’t want fire anywhere near this thing.” The little bird bounced over to where Cranky was sitting.

“Well,” Spike said. “Here goes nothing.” He lifted the bottle of high grade griffon alcohol to his lips and drank the entire bottle.

Nopony said anything as a loud gurgle came from Spike’s belly. I took a few steps back, and was ready to do a lot more if this went bad.

Spike groaned, then brought his claws to his mouth and quickly looked around. With nowhere better, Spike just pointed himself up and let forth an almighty belch that took the form of a huge green flame.

“Pokey’s not going to like that…” The flame left a scorch mark on the ceiling paint.

There was cheering from ponies at the other tables and clapping. The elders at the table nodded approvingly and Waddle lifted his hooves to get silence.

“Spike,” he said solemnly. “Doth thou wish to enter into this brotherhood?”

“Yes,” Spike said.

“Good, let’s eat.” Waddle raised his voice again, “Host, bring forth dinner!” There was the sound of more cursing from the kitchens. Then the elders went back to their discussion.

“That’s it?” Spike asked me.

I shrugged. “You were expecting a blood oath or something?”

“I guess,” Spike sighed.

“Nopony could agree on a good oath. Come on,” I said with a nod. “Let’s go over to our table.”

“Peewee,” Spike called. The little bird squeaked goodbye to Cranky and bounced over to take a place on Spike’s fez.

We made our way across the room as Pokey started bringing out dinner. The acerbic unicorn chef had a whole table’s worth of bowls suspended in his magic. The contents looked to be a simple soup that Pokey could make en-mass for the entire club by himself at low cost. It’d be too much to ask for a five course meal.

“Hey, bud! Good to see ya,” Thunderlane called from a few tables away. He flew off of his seat and came to meet us halfway. “I can’t wait to tell you what—oh, hey Spike.”

Spike blew a few bubbles from his pipe and remained silent. Peewee squawked a greeting.

Silence hung in the air before Lane broke it by saying, “Nice bird.” Peewee puffed himself up again, and a lone bubble left Spike’s pipe. Lane leant over and whispered in my ear, “Tell ya later.”

“I’m sure you will,” I said. “Let’s sit down before our drinks get here.”

“Heh, yeah,” Lane agreed. “If this is like last time, our soup will have less in it than a… than a…” Lane’s face scrunched up in thought. “I got nothing.”

“You’re telling me,” Spike muttered.

We took our seats. Lane to my left, Spike on my right – with Peewee – then further around was Caramel and Big Macintosh. “Hey guys, let’s all welcome our newest member, Spike.”

Responses flowed with enthusiasm: “Hey new bud”, “Evening”, “Welcome to the club Spike”, and “Cheep!”

“Hey, guys.” Spike nodded back. “So… what do we do tonight?”

“Same thing we do every meeting, Spike,” I said.

“Eat,” Lane replied.

“Drink,” Caramel added.

“Occasionally plan to take over the town,” I said.

“Usually we just talk about mares,” Mac finished.

Spike slumped down in his seat. “That sounds… exciting.”

“Nope,” Mac began ponderously. “But y’all be mighty surprised to find that even the most boring and mundane things become a whole lot more in’tresting when y’all have friends around.”

I sighed. “Thanks, Spike. You used up Mac’s word ration for tonight.”

“Nope.”

“Well, thanks,” Spike replied. “I’ve been wondering what you guys all do for fun anyway. I guess it’s about time I found out.”

“It’s always a party,” I said as a leaned back in my chair and looked at the charred ceiling. “The best part about all this is that we don’t need to hold anything back, we can make dumb jokes and talk properly.” I rolled my eyes and smirked. “Considering how outnumbered we are out there, us colts need to stick together.”

Then everypony started looking at me funny. “What? I didn’t mean like that.”

“Bud,” Lane said awkwardly. “You just squeaked and shuddered.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah,” Caramel added. “It looked really weird from over here, like you… um…” Caramel looked over at Spike.

“Like you had a seizure,” Spike filled in.

“Yeah, that,” Caramel said.

Spike continued, “Twilight got into one of her hypochondriac blitzes a while ago. She thought she had this disease thing that makes ponies have seizures if they stare at lights for too long.” Spike leant forward on his arm. “She actually had insomnia.”

“I didn’t notice anything,” I said as I looked between them.

“Don’t worry, bud,” Lane said as he gave me a pat on the back with a wing. “Something happens, I’ll get you to the hospital.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

A bright glow interrupted us as a set of bowls touched down on the table. “Enjoy your soup,” Pokey grunted as he walked away to get the next table’s batch.

Spike inhaled the smell. “This smells good.”

“Alright, guys, you know the rules,” Lane said before he licked his lips. “Turner counts us down, and last pony to finish picks up the tab.” We positioned ourselves above our bowls. Spike quickly figured it out and put a napkin around his neck to protect his blazer.

I started the countdown. “Three, two, one, go!”

Five faces hit the surfaces of their soup bowls and began inhaling the soup. It sounded like bath water emptying down a drain. A few seconds in, we all stopped.

Fire!

We couldn’t spit it out fast enough. Worse, in our rush to drink, more than a little had gotten into our noses. I felt like my face was on fire. My mouth burned, my nose burned, and my tongue screamed as it was overloaded by chili pepper.

I fell out of my chair with a crash as each breath I took only made the feeling worse. Painful seconds cringing up on the floor passed before I could recover enough to pull myself back onto my seat. Big Mac had toppled out of his chair as well, and I could hear his deep gasping breaths from where I was. Caramel had tried to ward off the taste by biting into the side of the table. Thunderlane was nowhere to be seen, having probably flown off to find water. Unfortunately, water only makes chili pepper worse.

Spike just looked calmly back at us as he used a spoon to finish his soup. “I don’t see what’s wrong with it. It tastes great.” The lucky dragon was fireproof.

Looking around for Thunderlane, I noticed one of the windows had been opened. Outside a blue unicorn mare waved at me happily. She waited until she was sure I’d seen her, and then disappeared off into the night.

By the time Thunderlane returned, soaking wet to the skin, we had all been moved to a new table. Pokey had been too pressed for time to clean up and we had to get away from the contaminated soup.

Lane shivered in his seat. “It’s really cold out there.”

Nopony else looked too neat either: my coat was mussed up from my fall; Mac had landed on his shoulder and was trying to keep weight off it; while Caramel looked pale. Spike on the other hoof still looked neat in his blazer, but he’d stowed away his pipe. Peewee was resting inside Spike’s fez sitting upside down on the table.

“Lane, why are you soaking wet?” I asked.

“I threw myself in the lake,” Lane said. “Best thing I could think of.” Then Lane coughed. “The water was really cold, but it didn’t help.”

“So you were on fire and freezing at the same time?” I guessed. Lane nodded. “Don’t worry, Pokey will bring out our replacement soup in a minute. That’ll warm you up.”

“Great,” Caramel grumbled. “Then we can go through all that again. Pokey could have at least apologised for doing that to us.”

“Ehyup,” Mac said as he watched the kitchen doors.

Lane coughed again. “I just want that soup.” The kitchen doors opened again and a weak breeze passed through the restaurant. Lane shivered again.

“Wow, Thunderlane,” Spike said. “Do you want me to warm you up?”

Lane looked like he was seriously considering it. “Nah, it’s Tornado Week. I need my feathers.”

“I wasn’t going to set you on fire, or anything,” Spike grumbled before sighing. “Peewee, think you could warm Thunderlane up?”

Peewee squawked back, tipped his impromptu nest in the fez over, and waddled over to Lane’s side of the table. Hopping up to Lane’s shoulder, he started to glow a little brighter.

Lane recoiled a little at the touch. “He’s like a little hot water bottle.” Lane brought up a wing and gave Peewee a tap so the phoenix chick moved onto the wing. Then Lane brought Peewee around to let him rest against his chest in a wing wrap. Peewee returned the motion by snuggling his head into Lane’s coat. Lane giggled, “That tickles.”

Spike put his fez back on his head. “Twilight thinks that phoenixes can control their body temperature. Makes sense if they’re part fire.”

“You’ve got yourself the perfect pet there Spike,” I commented as Lane started trying to tickle the phoenix back. “He’s fireproof, he can fly, and he’ll live as long as you will.”

“He’s awesome, isn’t he?” Spike agreed. Spike’s face held a grin for a few moments before it disappeared. “I might not be able to keep him though.”

Lane’s head snapped up from preening the little bird. “Why not?”

“Fluttershy says he needs to be with his parents, otherwise he might not learn how to be a phoenix properly.” Spike snorted some smoke. “Like I needed to meet other dragons so I could learn to be a proper dragon. I’m just fine how I am. Peewee will be fine as well.”

“That’s a hard decision…” I leant back in my seat to think about it.

“Don’t let him go,” Lane objected. “Look at him.” Peewee was dozing off in Lane’s feathers. “He’s happy, and growing up with you won’t cause problems.”

“That’s what I told Fluttershy,” Spike replied as he started running a claw around the tabletop idly. “But then she started saying how nice it would be for him to grow up with his family, how worried his parents would be, and then went on about how many little birds she’s returned to their parents and how happy they were.” Spike slouched in his seat. “Then she started begging.”

“Good to see that assertiveness training in action,” I said as I tapped my hoof on the table. “What does Twilight think?” Considering that she’d be the one paying for Peewee’s food, Twilight would have a strong say in what would happen.

“According to Twilight,” Spike continued in monotone, “Phoenixes are sentient, and so ‘foalhood is extremely important to his development’.”

“Then y’all should take him home,” Big Mac rumbled. Mac had time to mull it over, and now he’d come to a solid conclusion. He wouldn’t open his mouth otherwise. “Foalhood passes far too quick when you think ‘bout it, best that Peewee gets to enjoy it with his parents while he still can.” Mac’s face remained stoic, but what he said reminded me of the time I’d seen him break down into tears as he spoke about what happened his parents. Mac had asked us to keep the details to ourselves, and I’ve kept my word.

Spike looked down at the table guiltily. “I suppose. I just don’t want to lose him.”

“Who says you’re going to?” I said. “Just like Twilight said, he’s sentient, and he’s going to live a long time yet. So will you, and once Peewee grows up the pair of you can find each other again.”

“Yeah,” Caramel agreed. “Don’t think of it as goodbye, it’s just a… see you in a decade or something.”

“I guess you’re right.” Spike leaned forward on his elbow. “What’s a decade when I’ll live for another millennium or so?”

“How long do dragons live anyway?” I asked.

“Nopony knows, not that ponies know much about dragons at all. I haven’t heard of one dying of old age.”

Another glow covered the table as another set of bowls landed in front of us. Thunderlane looked over my shoulder. “Is it poisoned this time, Pokey?”

“Shove off,” Pokey cursed back. “You lot should just be happy you’re not being charged extra for this or the damn clean up you’ve left me to do.”

Mac grunted before asking, “Then could y’all explain how our soup got so darn hot?”

Looking over my shoulder I caught a look at Pokey’s scowl. “Somepony emptied my entire stock of cayenne powder into your table’s bowls while I was out of the kitchen. It’s going to be flipping weeks before I can replace that jar, and it’s going to cost me a bucking fortune.” Pokey turned around with a grunt. “Enjoy your soup.” Then he went back to the kitchen mumbling, “When I get my hooves on that…”

We all turned back to our soup bowls, and stared. You could feel the enthusiasm in the air.

“So,” I said neutrally. “This looks nice.”

“Yeah,” Caramel said. “Looks amazing. Pokey must really have outdone himself this time.”

Thunderlane gave it a good look. “I can see flakes and stuff in it.”

“You mean that green stuff, right?” Caramel asked.

“I don’t see any red,” I said.

“Oh good. No red.” Lane nodded. “So no chilli then, because chilli is red.”

“Some are,” Spike said innocently. “Most of the stronger ones are green.”

“Great.”

“Well,” I said. “Only one way to find out.”

“Well go on then,” Caramel said.

I shook my head. “I wouldn’t want to spoil it. Spike, you know what soup is supposed to taste like, right? Let us know if it’s good or not.”

“Oh I’m full. I actually finished my last bowl.” Spike lent back in his seat.

“Mac?”

“Nope.”

“Thunderlane.” I smiled innocently at him. “Didn’t you want to warm up after your swim?” Lane nodded down at the sleeping phoenix he still had in a wing hug. “You have to warm up on the inside as well, or you might catch a cold or something.”

Lane lent forward and gave the bowl a sniff. When his face didn’t burn off, he stuck the tip of his tongue into the soup. “I don’t taste anything.”

“So it’s alright then?” Caramel asked.

“Unless the last bowl burnt his tastebuds off,” I said flatly.

Big Mac then pointedly leant forward and began drinking from his own bowl. Barrier broken, the rest of us did the same. The soup was bland and barely tasted of some mystery green vegetable, but there was something worse, “Ugh, its gone cold.”

After dinner everything went along normally. Playing cards and chips were dealt out by Thunderlane, Caramel got some cider from the kitchen, and Peewee did his absolute best to snuggle up to everypony. Before an hour had passed a clear winner had emerged, Spike.

The young drake had gotten soft treatment from everyone at the table, though we all denied it. Mac seemed to be particularly lenient, losing more than a few stands of cards to Spike. Either Mac was throwing the matches, or he simply couldn’t read Spike’s tells.

Personally, I think Peewee was helping Spike.

The little phoenix spent a lot of time wandering around the table, often pausing to say hello to somepony. Conveniently the only times Peewee came up to me were when I had a pair of princesses and when I had two pairs.

Since the objective was fun, nopony seemed to mind. Once the evening had started to wind down, we said our goodbyes and split off home. As Spike’s sponsor and designated ride, I took Spike home. The little dragon rode on my back while the littler phoenix slept in Spike’s fez. Peewee was all tuckered out after running around so much.

“So that was fun,” Spike said, leaning over so I could see him. “When’s the next meeting?”

“I don’t think it’s been decided yet,” I turned to look back briefly. “We’ll have to wait until the elders find a volunteer, and then they’ll send notes out.”

Spike shifted on my back. “Why is the club run by those old ponies anyway?”

“It’s an old club, and the ‘old ponies’ have usually been in the club the longest. It goes back a few generations. Granny Smith would have been young when the club started.”

“So it’s as old as Ponyville?”

I shrugged. “Officially: no. Unofficially: probably. It’s hard to say because we haven’t really bothered keeping records. Paperwork is the last thing on your mind if you want to have fun.” Spike didn’t respond for a few minutes. I looked back over my shoulder and saw Spike staring into his fez. “You okay, Spike?”

“Huh?” Spike looked up. “Oh, I’m fine. I was just thinking that I’ll probably be running the club someday.”

I suppose if he’s going to outlive ponies by centuries he’d end up getting the best seat on the elder’s table. “Probably, and considering how well the library’s been running since you came to Ponyville, that won’t be a bad thing.”

“Thanks,” Spike said. “I try not to think about that stuff. I get all moody when I do.”

“Part of being alive, Spike.” I gave him a wry smile. “Take a tip from the time pony: ‘take care of the present, and when the future becomes the present you can take care of it then’.”

“Thanks, Time Turner, I’ll keep that in mind.”

It wasn’t much longer after that until we came to the library. We said our goodnights and Spike went in to go to bed while I set off back home.

However, I had other things on my mind: Colgate had retaliated. I’d come on very strong with the cake delivery earlier, a deliberate attempt at shock and awe. But she’d still retaliated and hadn’t been afraid to let me see it. Clearly I hadn’t tried hard enough.

My selection of clocks includes every design and variety known to ponykind, and a few more. There’s a few Zebrican ones I’m still trying to figure out, but most of the rest are fairly simple. Simplicity rules in clockwork despite outward appearances. Although in the case of Zebrican clockwork, they take pride in making it appear as complicated as possible – like their national sport in rhyming.

One of these Zebrican designs is an alarm clock I picked up while passing through Freeport. It was the first clock I’d ever bought and the start of my collection, yet the internal clockwork is still a puzzle to me today. Wound by a key, the clock tracks a twenty-four hour day, the date in the Zebrican calendar, and when the set time arrives it rings its bells in an uneven pattern.

The zebra who sold it to me had guaranteed it would never fail to wake me up, and at six in the morning it kept her promise.

I went straight down the stairs, picked up the bag I’d prepared last night, went out my front door and set off toward Colgate’s house. I needed to be ready before she went off to work at the dental clinic. Last night’s prank deserved a suitable response, sooner rather than later.

I made it to Colgate’s house just as the light of day crept into Ponyville. Shucking my bag off, I started preparing my little trap. My favourite prank is sneezing powder: it’s mostly harmless, cripples the target, and makes a lasting impression. I stuck a box of it above Colgate’s front door and attached a ripcord to the door itself.

Turning to go back up the path, a whoosh of air passed my face and something landed on the ground. “Morning!” called a voice from above me, and the pegasus responsible flew off. Looking down I found a Canterlot newspaper at my hooves.

The door behind me opened. The ripcord tore the powder box open, and a pale pink clump fell down and burst into a cloud. I held my breath, covered my nose and stumbled out of the cloud.

The pony behind me got a face full of it and stumbled out of the powder. She sneezed a few times and fell onto the grass gasping for air. Her blue coat a lighter colour from the new powder covering her.

I stepped over her, looked down into her watering eyes, and waved. “Got you back.” I brushed some of the powder from her nose. “Have a good morning, Colgate.” She tried to say something in return but breathing in gave her another dose of the powder. I left before I could be hit by some of it too.

Since I was out and about this early, I stopped for breakfast at Sugar Cube Corner. Skipping anything with too much sugar, I contented myself with a bowl of oats with apple pieces. The corner’s copies of the newspaper were dropped off while I ate and I read up on the day’s news while I finished.

Today’s paper listed details about Tornado Day tomorrow, with Rainbow’s declaration – from a hospital bed – that she was confident they would be breaking the wing-power record after the training she’d put the town’s pegasi through. Obviously she wouldn’t be staying in the bed much longer.

The next page held a Namby Pamby article about the history of the town hall, but before I could read it something hit me in the back of the head and burst. A gloopy liquid dripped down my neck and it smelt absolutely horrid.

I didn’t want whatever it was. “Reset.” I didn’t go back far, just enough to undo the damage. As time resumed I dropped my head and rolled away from the table. From the ground I saw my paper still in the air and falling suspiciously slowly. Above it, a water balloon spun slowly in the air. Then the balloon was seized in a blue glow and thrown back toward me.

To add insult to insult, the time dilation effect holding my newspaper in the air was cancelled. The water balloon had been doing a reasonable speed during the time warp, but in real time it flew much faster. It hit me with a slap in the face and its foul smelling contents.

From a safe distance Colgate yelled, “Got you back!” before she stalked away.

I didn’t come out of my shower until the only thing I could smell was the pine scent in my shampoo, and once I’d made a good dent in the town’s hot water supply. Whatever the liquid in the stink balloon was, it was strong and oily too. Damn stuff had sunk into my coat and it took ages to get it out. Celestia knows what pit of Tartarus Colgate dug that stuff out of. Worse, she might have even made it herself.

For my next trick I’d have to try something more mental. First thing I needed was to find out was where she was hiding. Once I’d dried myself off and brushed my coat down, I started scouting around town to try and find my opponent.

The first place I checked was the dentistry. A polite request to the receptionist about making an appointment with my ‘favourite dentist’, told me that Colgate had been given a day off to recover after doing a lot of overtime, and to give her a chance to celebrate her ‘birthday’. They had no idea where she was, so I had to go find her the old fashioned way.

After spending twenty minutes trotting around town, I found Colgate enjoying lunch with Berry Punch at one of the tables outside Pokey’s restaurant. What kind of pony would I be if I didn’t go say hello? I swung around behind Colgate so she wouldn’t see me. First I took a seat at the table behind her to do some eavesdropping.

“…fine, Colgate,” Berry was saying. “You’re a beautiful, strong, capable mare. You don’t need to settle for anypony, you deserve to find somepony who’d appreciate you for being you.”

Is this supposed to be a pep talk? I thought.

“But I made such a mistake with Caramel,” Colgate replied. She held her head in her hooves as she looked down at her sandwich. “I hurt him so badly, I’m not sure I want to take that chance and lose everything again.”

Berry slid her chair around the table and put a leg around Colgate’s shoulder. “You can’t keep thinking like that.” She put her other hoof on her chest. “I used to be a terrible drunk, it was something I did to myself, and it wasn’t until I decided to clean up that I actually did. You could keep telling yourself you’re not ready, or that you shouldn’t love anypony, and it will never happen. You can’t give up.”

“And if I screw up again?” Colgate asked glumly.

“Then I’ll be here for you,” Berry squeezed Colgate closer. From where I was sitting, I could taste enough sappiness in the air that I could have bottled it to sell to Canterlot Nobles on pancakes.

“Thanks, Berry.”

“There’s plenty of hay in the haystack, Colgate.”

Colgate laughed bitterly. “So I just need to keep searching until I find my needle then.”

There was no way I could pass that up.

“Hello.” I said as I sat at the spare seat in front of both mares. “I was passing by and I couldn’t help but want to see how the two of you are going.” While Berry was somewhat uneasy, Colgate openly glared.

“We’re fine here,” Colgate said flatly.

“We’re… uh… all fine here,” Berry added. I was going to take a wild flying guess that the subject of Colgate and me had come up.

I put my hooves behind my head. “Well I can see I’m not welcome. Before I go, just letting you know that by my count our current score is 3-2 in your favour. I’ll be evening that out sometime soon.” I tried to smile unnervingly at her.

“Oh you don’t have to,” Colgate said. “You could just go somewhere else instead. Vanhoover maybe.”

“I like Ponyville, nice atmosphere.”

“You could get that on a mountain somewhere,” she countered.

“That’s more of a unicorn thing.” I crossed my forelegs and lent forward.

Her horn lowered and she growled, “You could throw yourself in a hole instead.”

I brought a hoof to my chest in mock shock. “Such venom, what did I do to deserve this?”

She brought her hooves down on the table and lent forward to meet me. “Because you’re such a hypocrite. Why should you be allowed to do whatever you want, while I—”

Berry pulled Colgate back. “As much as both of you would like to get the last word in, I think you were leaving, Turner?”

“Yes, you're right.” I unfolded my legs and stood back up. “I’d better get going; places to go, scores to settle.” I waved. “Toodles.” And left.

I think I made my point. Now Colgate knew that I’d be planning something, and from here on anything that went wrong for her would be my fault. “The clock’s running slow and now I’m late? Time Turner broke it.” Or perhaps, “I can’t find my toothbrush. Time Turner must have stolen it.” Basically I’d be getting extra credit for nothing.

Of course I’d be adding some actual tampering into the mix, and I had a few ideas.

When you spend a lot of time working with clocks, you get a bit of a knack for dealing with mechanics. So a simple door lock was rather trivial to open. Colgate’s house hadn’t changed since I last saw it. It was still clinically neat, the colours tended toward white, and everything was straight.

Everything was neat, ordered, and predictable. Colgate either likes control or takes refuge in it; controlling what she can in a world she didn’t have much actual control in. So if that was a key part of her personal life, then disrupting that control was the quickest way to knock her back.

So I’d disrupt her house: move things around, hide a few things, and perhaps an addition or two. I couldn’t overdo it either, because she could be back from lunch soon. It couldn’t be anything she could quickly correct with magic either, or at the least nothing too obvious. I wasn’t making this sound easy.

Where to start though? A memory spoke up, “Check the fridges. That’s important.” I figured I might as well start there. Her kitchen was more or less the same as the rest of the house, but her fridge told an interesting story: it focused on vegetables like carrots and leafy greens while also including milk, but nothing to add to it. So she practiced the dental habits she preached.

I quickly shifted a few things around and moved a few things between shelves. If she had some sort of obsessive shelving system this’d mess with her mind a bit. While in the kitchen I also switched off the water in the cabinets beneath the sink.

In the dining room: I moved the chairs around a bit and, in a weird moment for me, I put the dining room clock backwards by about five minutes.

Lounge room: moved the magazines on the table around and hid the coasters underneath them. For extra credit, I hid a few of the magazines between the cushions on the sofa.

Bathroom: Hid her toothbrush. Utter evil.

Bedroom: It was the first room on the second floor, and the only one in the house that wasn’t impeccably maintained. Colgate’s own messy sanctum. I made an addition here, a keywound alarm clock made by yours truly. I set the time properly, the alarm for five in the morning, and then put it on her dresser behind a school photo.

Something caught my eye as I put the photo back. It was from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, according to the sign up the front, and by the princess appearing in the photo beside Miss Sparkle. Colgate herself was halfway along the second row. Evidently Colgate managed to get past the entry exams, so she was no pushover magically.

That tantalizing titbit of information kindled a curiosity about my opponent. ‘Knowledge is power’, and there was so much I could learn by sorting through a few things. Her wardrobe held a few dresses for formal occasions, some were tailored to Colgate and bore Rarity’s subtle trademark. The top drawer held a selection of socks, but underneath those was a photo album. Peaking inside, I found Colgate’s baby photos.

I let it fall shut on an image captioned, ‘Our darling filly, two months old’, put the socks back, closed the drawer, and shut the wardrobe before my head fell against it. Privacy is such a tempting thing to break, and there I was, in her personal sanctum. As I thought about that, the eager curiosity soured and I started to feel uncomfortable in the room.

Leaving the alarm clock as the only part of my intrusion, I left to check out the rest of the second floor. There were a couple of spare bedrooms but the final room caught my notice, it was a music room.

The room seemed to be a personal retreat, a place where Colgate could hide away and enjoy some music. There was a high quality set of speakers, the kind that use magic to amplify a record on a turntable; and a bookcase full of records. Opposite sat a well-used sofa and a table with some detective novels. By the window was a music stand holding an open folio. The song written on the open pages was titled ‘Somepony to Love’, and an accompanying record was on the turntable. There weren’t any instruments around, so Colgate just sang along.

Reading through the lyrics I saw an image in my head of her singing along to this. The music was high tempo and upbeat, but the words were depressing. I shut the book. It was foalish stuff.

I didn’t change anything in the music room. I didn’t want to anymore.

Stepping away from the music stand, I looked out the window to think. What am I doing here? I’m trampling my way through her life, and for what? Just to settle a score? Leaning on the windowsill I stared out into the perfect Ponyville afternoon.

I’d hit a catch 22: military strategy usually harps on about ‘knowing thy enemy’, but the truth is you don’t want to know anything more than, ‘They’re bad’. The more you know, the more you can sympathise, and the more you sympathise, the more you find in common.

And I was just doing this because she ruined my pie.

While I was halfway through more philosophising, I caught sight of a problem. Colgate and Berry Punch walking this way together. Colgate stood a little ahead of Berry and walking in a sort of semi-enthusiastic trudge, while Berry just matched pace.

A wild leap of logic said they were headed to Colgate’s house, another leap said I’d have to do just that out a window. It was a shame; I might have undone some of what I’d done otherwise. As the front door downstairs opened, I did the same with the music room window and hoped the sound wouldn’t be noticed. This had to be done right first go, sure I could time turn back if I broke something, but I wouldn’t be able to hide from Colgate then. This wasn’t too high, I’ve done stupider jumps.

As the door downstairs shut, I leapt through the window and down onto the road below. As I hit the ground I tucked my head in and let myself topple into a roll to cushion the blow. The painful part was when I did a complete roll and my legs had flipped over to hit the ground again. There were a few funny looks from other ponies, but I didn’t stop to explain as I got up and galloped home.

Back home I started locking my doors and windows. Once Colgate started figuring things out, she’d probably try something in return and I wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
The afternoon passed with no sign of her. I spent my time working on a few clocks while keeping my ears open. Nothing happened as night fell and as I made my way to bed I felt somewhat disappointed.

Then about two in the morning, I heard a knocking sound from the front door downstairs. Peeking out an upstairs window, I caught sight of the shadow of a unicorn on my doorstep. I didn’t want to take any chances here, so I got out a water balloon I’d put in my freezer that now held an icy slush. If Colgate wanted to try something she could have a snowball to the face. Balancing the balloon on a hoof, I opened the front door with my mouth and prepared to throw.

“Oh good you’re home! I wasn’t sure you’d be here.” That wasn’t Colgate’s voice.

I looked out from behind the door. “Oh, Banana Fluff. Is something wrong?”

Banana, Pokey’s old assistant chef, was a little agitated. Her mane was still cropped short from the dessert accident, but her regrown coat had red splotches on it. My eyes narrowed. “Is that blood?”

Banana nodded. “It’s Thunderlane’s. He’s in the hospital. I didn’t know who anypony else who could help.” It was about now that I noticed that Banana had been crying.

“Don’t worry, Banana, you came to the right pony.” I reached up to give her a comforting shoulder rub. “Let’s get going.”

I shut the door behind me and we both galloped off down to the hospital. Normally I’d strongly advise against that sort of speed in the dark, potholes aren’t fun. But when one of your best friends is in hospital you can throw caution to the wind. As we galloped I kept pace with Banana instead of pulling ahead, she’s the one who needed comfort the most right now, and abandoning her wouldn’t help.

Once we came to the hospital I led the way inside to the front desk where a somewhat tired and flustered looking Nurse Redheart was filing in some paperwork.

“Redheart,” I said as I came up to the desk. “I need to know what room Thunderlane’s in.”

“It’s the middle of the night,” she chided me in a strict tone. “Visiting hours are over.”

I rubbed a fetlock across my forehead. “Redheart, do you know who I am?”

“No,” she replied, rather unamused.

“Good, then you won’t tell security my name,” I replied coldly. “And as soon as you turn your back I’ll be running up and down this hospital until I find Thunderlane.”

“I only need your description.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes, brown stallion, very distinctive. Anyway, your ‘security’ and I go to the same club, they’ll leave me be. Face it, I’ll get there. It’ll be easier if you help me, and nopony will be blaming you for it later.”

We got into a staring contest. Redheart got to look through the metaphorical window to my soul, and blinked. She huffed and started sorting through the paperwork. “Mr Thunderlane is still in surgery,” Redheart said tersely. Banana gasped. “But he should be out soon and recovering in room four on the second floor.”

I nodded and politely replied, “Thank you, Nurse Redheart.” Before I turned to leave. “Come on, Banana.”

We made our way up just in time to see a pair of orderlies leaving Lane’s room. I pulled Banana out of sight until they left so we could avoid any more discussions about visiting hours. When they were gone we nipped into Lane’s room.

He didn’t look good. His dark coat was more grey than black now and cotton balls had been taped to his wings in a dozen places. Lane tried to say something as we walked in, but it was lost in a hacking cough.

“Lane!” Banana ran forward and took him up in a hug. “Are you going to be alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. “Jus lost a lil’l blood is all.” He coughed again in Banana’s hold, causing a few feathers to fall from his wings.

I tilted the chart hanging from the end of his bed up to read it. “Symptoms: dry cough, forced moulting, blood loss. Diagnosis: Influenza virus (feather flu)”. “He’s got the flu.”

Banana stopped nuzzling Lane. “Oh stars.”

“Seems so,” Lane said before he coughed something unspeakable into the bin beside the bed. “I broke some blood feathers before they were preenable, and so that’s why I’m here.”

“Uh, Thunderlane,” I asked. “I’m not a pegasus, so I don’t know the terminology here.”

Lane nodded, swallowed, and took a breath. “Kay, Bud. A blood feather is a feather that hasn’t finished growing. When broke, they bleed, and you have to yank ‘em or they won’t stop, get me?”

“Uh huh.”

“Normally it’s just one or two every now and then, so no biggie,” Thunderlane continued. “But if you moult, you get a dozen or two at once.”

I checked the clipboard again, ‘Forced moulting’. “So the flu put you through a moult, and somehow you managed to damage all the blood feathers on your wings.” I let the clipboard drop down again. “What were you doing?”

“Um,” Banana said. “We were on a date.” She blushed. “The end of one actually.” That thought bounced around my head a few times as I made the mental connections.

My eyebrows furrowed when I figured it out. “The part where you went home for a vertically-challenged dance, I assume?”

An enthusiastic grin crossed Thunderlane’s face as he nodded weakly. “Worth it,” he croaked.

I brought a hoof to my face. “So you went on a date, even though you were sick.”

“I’ve been planning this all week,” Thunderlane grumbled. “A little cough wasn’t going to stop me.”

The hoof remained on my face. “Banana, have you had a flu shot?”

“No,” she admitted.

“Congratulations, Thunderlane. Not only have you gotten yourself hospitalized, but you’ve also guaranteed that Banana Fluff is going to come down with the flu too.” Minus the losing feathers part. I crossed my forelegs and leant over the bed end. “Was it still worth it?”

Thunderlane looked between Banana and me. Perhaps some hidden survival instinct drove his next words, “She is.” Then he coughed again.

Banana stepped forward to kiss Lane on the forehead. “Don’t worry, I forgive you.”

You won’t soon. It’s hard to have sympathy at all when you’re being whipped by the flu. “So what now, Lane? It’s going to be a week or something until you can fly again. That means you won’t be able to get up to your cloud house, or look after yourself.”

“Uh,” Thunderlane scratched his head. “Haven’t really thought about that.”

“I could look after him,” Banana volunteered. Lane nodded at that idea.

“Might not be a good idea.” I gave her a sympathetic look. “You’re going to be sick soon as well.”

“I can look after him until then.”

“If you think so,” I replied with a nod. “But if he gets to be too much then you can bring him around my place.”

Lane coughed again. “Thanks for the offer, Turner.”

I returned the nod. “We’d better let you get some rest, you’ve lost a lot of blood.”

“Wait a moment, bud,” Lane called. “There’s one thing you could do for me.”

I turned and nodded. “What do you need, Lane?”

“You know how it’s Tornado Day tomorrow, right?” Lane asked weakly.

“Actually it’s today now,” I corrected and pointed at the small clock on the bedside.

“Right,” Lane accepted flatly. “Just you see, my bro is gonna be there.”

“Yeah, Rumble’s his name, right?” I asked.

“Just.” Lane coughed something up and swallowed it again. “He wanted to be there to see Spitfire. Just make sure Rumble knows I’m sick, but that I’ll be fine.”

I nodded. “Easy, I’ll get that done.”

“Then get him to tell my folks that I’m fine.”

“No problem, Lane. Get some rest.” I looked over at Banana Fluff who’d made herself comfortable in a nearby chair. “You coming too, Banana?”

“No,” she yawned. “I’ll just stay here and keep him company for a while.”

“Alright, good night you two,” I said with a wave. The pair echoed the sentiment with a sniff and yawn. I didn’t hang around any longer and when nopony was looking I went out the front door on my way home.

At home I put the melted snowball balloon back in the freezer and went to bed again. Colgate still hadn’t made an appearance yet, though tomorrow would be another day.

For something as mundane as water relocation, Tornado Day was a fairly big affair. Walking out I could look up and constantly see somepony with wings making their own way out to the reservoir. The pegasi were still mustering when I arrived. I wandered around through the group looking for Rumble.

Wings were everywhere, ponies stretching and loose feathers were all over the ground. On my second lap I nearly ran into a familiar looking brown colt with a fetching mane style.

“Hey, Crescent.”

“Hey, Turner.”

“Good luck with the Tornado.”

“Thanks.”

Luna, it was creepy being around that pony, he looks so much like me it gives me the shivers. If it weren’t for his wings and lighter voice you’d almost think we were twins.

Eventually I ran into Rumble as he ran counter clockwise into me, looking a little lost. Picking himself up, Rumble was about to leave when I caught him. “Wait, you’re Rumble right?”

“Yeah, what’chu want?” One thing I noticed is that Rumble was a rough opposite of Lane’s colour scheme, dark mane, light coat as opposed to dark coat, light mane.

“Thunderlane wanted me to find you and let you know that he’s in the hospital because of the feather flu. He won’t be here today.”

“Oh.” Rumble looked down at his hooves. “But he promised I could meet Spitfire.”

I pointed over my shoulder at the anemometer. “You can still meet her after the tornado by yourself. Spitfire won’t mind.”

“But,” Rumble protested. “It’s not just for me. Lane wanted to ask if he could get into the Wonderbolt Academy.”

I was about to offer some reassurance, but a horn sounded. “Sounds like things are getting started. I have to go up to the spectator area, good luck.” Rumble nodded back, and I took my leave. Tornados are dangerous, and it’s best to avoid dealing with them if at all possible. While a pegasus can fly out of a tornado, an earth pony would get tossed out instead.

Up by the fence on the hill overlooking the reservoir a small crowd of curious farmers had gathered around to watch and turned the day into an impromptu social occasion. While fun, it would be something I’d have to keep an eye on: farmers tend to feud.

Over the last millennium the major earth pony families have spread, founded farms, and through numerous social functions have created connections between each other. While on the surface the Apples and Carrots are still arguing like always, underneath they’re just as closely related to their neighbours as their distant cousins. It’s a real double standard; family tends to be more name than blood, and the blood ties mean that familiarity breeds contempt.

More than once in recent history the Apples and Carrots have started throwing Pies and Cakes at each other respectively, literally, and metaphorically.

This was demonstrated rather effectively by Applejack and Carrot Top both having set up their market stands directly opposite each other. Where there’s a crowd, there’s a market for food. Applejack was selling apple pies, apple juice, and apple fritters. Carrot Top was selling carrot cupcakes, carrot juice, and vegetable pasties.

Both were being assisted by their little sisters, Apple Bloom and Noi. For my own personal safety, I didn’t want to get involved with Apple Bloom’s sales technique. Neither what happened or could of have happened turned out well for me. Applejack isn’t nice when her little sister starts to cry.

Going over to Carrot’s stand I could hear Noi greeting customers. “Two carrot cupcakes, that’s, um,” she brought a hoof up to her chin. “Four bits.” There was a clatter of change and Noi thanked the customer.

When I stepped forward Noi beamed. “Mr Turner! Would you like some cupcakes? Only one bit for you.”

“I’d love one, Noi.” I put a bit on the countertop.

The little filly reached beneath the counter and got out a little iced cupcake. I took a bite out of a corner. It was like one of Carrot Top’s full sized cakes, but the centre held a walnut. My next bite took in the walnut and creamed icing which was a wonderful and moist combination of sweet and bitter taste.

“Did you like it?” Noi asked. The filly was gazing at me blankly, waiting for a response.

“It was incredible, Noi.”

Noi’s face burst into a bright smile. “Thanks, I helped make it.” She went over and pulled on Carrot Top’s mane. “Sis, Mr Turner said the cupcakes we made were incredible.”

Carrot quickly finished up with her customer before switching to me. “Good afternoon, Turner. Noi, why don’t you look after our customers while I speak to Time Turner?”

“Sure, sis.” Noi went over to greet the next customer.

Carrot looked around then leaned over the counter so we could talk normally. “You out here to see the tornado as well?”

I shrugged. “Might as well while I’m here, but I’m just down here to let Thunderlane’s brother know he’s in hospital.”

Carrot’s eyes widened. “What’s wrong with Thunderlane?”

“Feather flu, then he managed to break a bunch of new feathers after he lost the old ones,” I explained. “Turns out they bleed badly when you do, he had to get medical attention to deal with them.”

Carrot nodded. “Derpy’s had that before. When she was growing her feathers back she got so hungry that I’d go out to harvest and come back to find my fridge completely cleaned out.”

I blinked. “That’s a lot of food.”

“Her daughters were there as well,” Carrot explained.

“Still a lot of food.” A teenager like Sparkler could gulp down like a champ and a filly like Dinky would vacuum up sweets, but the amount still boggled the mind. “But Lane hit the jackpot there, he’s staying with Banana Fluff until he gets back on his wings.”

The sound of a horn filled the air. I looked down to the field. “Sounds like they’re getting started.”

Carrot nodded her head. “Let’s go watch.” I agreed and we joined the rest of the ponies lining up against the fence. The seventy or so pegasi had already taken off and were beginning to fly in a circle over the water. A wind cone quickly formed as loose moisture and dust was pulled up into the cone, giving it a distinctive blue colour. Then the wind flying off the storm started to reach us, blowing back manes and forcing some ponies to hold onto their hats.

Some of the spectators around us cheered and started waving, until somepony was thrown out of the tornado. Then everything fell apart and the tornado burst, dropping its water load back into the lake. Most of the pegasi looked dizzy from over here.

“Looks like they’ll have to try again,” I said unworried. Taking a moment, I looked around at the crowd around us. Colgate still hadn’t made an appearance. Perhaps she’s given up. Frankly I wouldn’t mind that because I’d win by default, even If I’d have to stay on guard for a while.

Carrot leant forward on the fence. “Do you think they’ll be able to do it?”

“It looked like they almost had it.” I held a hoof over my eyes to block the sunset as I tried guessing their numbers. “I don’t think Spitfire was in that last one, if they’re just under then she can push them over the line.” A wonderbolt like her must have a decent set of wings.

Rainbow pulled all the pegasi back up with one of her pep talks, probably about putting best effort in, proving something, and getting the job done with ‘awesome’ said at least four times. Whatever it was, it got them all back in the air again and the horn sounded again.

The tornado formed again. “It looks straighter this time,” Carrot said as she tried to get a better look at what was happening.

“The water level is going down,” I added. Somepony else joined the tornado at the last minute, and a yellow blur added itself to the collage.

“They’ve got the water up, I think,” Carrot said. There was an abrupt change in the tornado’s shape as it bulked up with a thunderclap. “There it goes.” The water shot out the top, the initial wave dragging the rest with it as it flew off toward Cloudsdale.

The horn sounded a final time and the tornado split up as all the pegasi followed the wind out. Celebration broke out as they landed, I could hear the cheering from where we were. Once they were done with the self-congratulatory stuff the muster of pegasi came up the road toward us.

“Here come your customers, Goldie.” This late in the afternoon, and after that kind of exercise, those ponies were going to be hungry. Turning to mention that to Carrot, I found she’d already disappeared. In fact she was already over at her stand with a big sign declaring what they had for sale. On the other side of the road Applejack and Apple Bloom were doing the same.

As the crowd arrived many of them split off to line up at the stands, both quickly doing brisk business. Most were over by Rainbow Dash and Spitfire.

I felt a tap on one of my legs, looking down I found Noi and Rumble at my hooves. “Mr Turner,” Noi asked. “We want to go see Spitfire, could you take us?” Looking over at the crowd it was fairly clear to see that it wasn’t a safe place for the kids, too easy to get crushed or trampled.

“Okay, kids.” I set myself down on the ground. “Hop on.”

“Thanks Mr Turner,” Rumble said. The pair sat themselves upright on my back, Noi up front behind my neck and Rumble behind her.

Noi tapped her hoof against my neck. “Mush!”

I turned to look back at my passengers. “Do I look like a diamond dog to you?”

Rumble leaned over. “Giddy up?”

“Better…” I trailed off.

Noi brought a hoof to her chin. “Um. Giddy up, please?”

“Hold on you two.” I stood up and made my way toward the crowd. Despite being surrounded from all sides and even above, Spitfire and Rainbow were coping well with all the attention. Questions were constantly being asked by the ponies in the crowd, lost to my ears in the din, but Spitfire answered them quickly.

“There’s no real secret to being a Wonderbolt. It just takes dedication, and the will to push yourself to your best and beyond.” Somepony else asked a question. Spitfire pointed to them and said, “Absolutely, prove you have the ability and it’ll happen.” Then she turned to face somepony among those hovering above. “The Wonderbolts run training camps during the summer. You can sign up for one at the Cloudeseum in Cloudsdale.”

Rainbow Dash gasped. “Oh. My. Gosh. You gotta sign me up for that!” This was echoed from several other pegasi in the crowd.

Rumbled jumped up and down on my back yelling, “Sign my bro up for that too!”

Spitfire chuckled. “It just so happens I have a bunch of Wonderbolt Academy sign up forms here with me.”

“Convenient huh?” I said flatly, though nopony seemed to hear me.

Rumble flew off my back and around in front of my face. “Mr Turner, you gotta get my bro into that camp!”

“Rumble, I’m not sure I should—”

“Please!”

I rolled my eyes with a sigh. “Fine. Get back on and I’ll get a form.”

Noi gave me a pat on the neck. “I knew Dinky was wrong when she said you weren’t a nice pony, Mr Turner.”

I gave Noi a smile. “Noi, I’m nice to ponies I like. Anyway, Dinky only says that because I don’t let her win at battleclouds.” That got a giggle from Noi.

Rumble landed on my back again and I pushed forward into the crowd. There were two things in my favour as I pushed ponies aside to get through: first, as an earth pony I’ve got more mass to throw around, a lot of it muscle; second, nopony was going to argue with somepony carrying innocent children.

Once through, I snatched a form from the pile and used my child enhanced aggression immunity to escape. Once out, I took the kids back to the Carrot stand and put the form down to read.

Borrowing a pencil from Carrot Top, I filled in Thunderlane’s name and details. Then I found out what the catch was. “Attendance requires an enrolment fee of two hundred and twenty bits,” I hissed.

Rumbled looked over my shoulder. “That’s not too much is it?”

I looked back at the innocent hope on his face. “No, it isn’t.” That’s coming straight out of the vault. I filled in my own address to receive the bill. Thunderlane, you’re going to owe me big time for this. Details filled in, I folded the form up. I’d post it to Cloudsdale tonight. Last time I checked, the big vault in my lounge room still had a few thousand bits in it. Most of that money had come from my last trip to Los Pegasus.

The crowd of ponies migrated on as night fell, which didn’t trouble Carrot because she’d already sold out. Noi and Rumble came up to Carrot as I was helping her pack up. “Sis, I want to go sleep over at Rumble’s house, he says it’s a cloud and really cool. His parents are here to pick him up, and say I’m welcome.”

Carrot looked over at me then to Rumble. “You live in cloud house, don’t you, Rumble?”

The little pegasus nodded. “Yeah, but my whole room has a magic carpet so I don’t lose my toys.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Please, sis,” Noi asked. “I wanna see how clouds work.”

Carrot looked over at me. “It should be safe,” I said. “It’s a bit weird, but as long as you have a pegasus around you can manage.” I looked over at Noi. “You can’t leave Rumble’s bedroom carpet, or you’ll fall through the clouds.”

“I won’t,” Noi answered.

Carrot sighed. “As long as Rumble’s parents are okay with it, and you don’t leave that carpet thing.”

Noi gave Carrot a hug around her neck. “Thanks, sis.” She let got and turned Rumble. “Come on, let’s go.” The pair ran off giggling toward a pegasus couple on the other side of the road.

Carrot looked after Noi mournfully. “I guess this means I’m going to be alone again tonight.”

I stepped forward and gave Carrot Top a pat on the back. She’d spent a lot of time alone before Noi came back to Ponyville, I guessed Carrot wasn't ready to be alone again for a while. “Don’t worry about her, she’ll be fine. And if you don’t want to be alone tonight you can come around my place for dinner. Then you can use my spare bedroom if you want.”

Carrot nodded. “That would be nice.”

We finished packing up and I hitched myself to her wagon. Then we went back around to my house for the night.

I woke up again to the sound of metal crashing downstairs. The crash could herald any number of bad things, so I rolled myself out of bed and stumbled into the hallway. Taking the stairs necessitated a quick breather to find my sense of balance, but I was quickly down and looking for the source of the sound.

The first place I checked was my workshop. Opening the door, I found nothing out of place except the smell of something cooking. Turning to follow the scent, I found Carrot Top making pancakes in the kitchen.

She turned at the sound of my hoofsteps. “Good morning, Turner, I thought that was you up. There wasn’t much around, so I used what you had to make some pancakes. I hope you don’t mind.” The previous crash resolved itself in my mind as just the sound of pan on my stovetop and my worries disappeared.

“Yes… um, no?” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. “No, I don’t mind, and next, did you make some for me?”

Carrot sighed and said, “I’d thought you’d ask that.” She flipped a pancake out onto a plate with a spatula. She dropped the spatula again, turned, and said, “Do you know how to cook at all?”

“Only in the sense of, ‘Make fire, then apply food until tasty.’” I grimaced. “I normally just buy something when I’m hungry.” I nodded at the pan. “I only bought the flour you’re using to fill the spot in the cupboard.” A spot last vacated when the preceding bag had fallen onto my head.

Carrot smiled to herself and shook her head. “I made enough for both of us.” She picked up the spatula and flipped another pancake onto a second plate. “It’s a wonder you colts even manage to look after yourselves properly.”

“It’s probably why we’re outnumbered.” I took my seat and Carrot delivered the plate. My solitary jar of jam was already waiting with a spoon.

Carrot sat down beside me. “You didn’t have any cream or maple syrup.”

“Cream would go off, and maple syrup is expensive,” I replied.

I set to adding jam while Carrot said, “So what were you doing in your workshop before? It sounded like something fell over.”

My eyebrows furrowed in thought and I put the spoon down. “Nothing fell over, my workshop was empty.”

Carrot blinked. “Then where—” A knocking sound interrupted her. “What was that?”

“Front door.” I stood up and my way out of the kitchen. There was a clatter as Carrot followed. We went through the lounge room, the curtains were closed so instead of peaking outside I just went to the door.

I opened the top part of the door to find Ditzy waiting on the other side with a large envelope in her mouth. The kind of envelope that meant whatever was inside had to be important. “Good morning, Ditzy. Back to normal after Tornado Day?” Ditzy nodded.

Carrot waved to Ditzy as I opened the lower part of the door. “Hey Derpy.” The postpony nodded back before passing the envelope over to me.

“Morning Carrot,” Ditzy said with a nod before looking back at me. “Lyra had my job for a few days while I was training for the tornado.” She nodded at the envelope in my mouth. “So this letter’s been waiting a few days for me to pick it up from Canterlot.” My eyebrows rose.

“Couldn’t Lyra have just picked it up instead?” Carrot asked.

Ditzy shook her head. “I’m the only one supposed to carry it.”

I turned to Carrot and hummed to get her attention before motioning my eyes at the letter. Carrot Top took the letter in her mouth. “It’s a special arrangement. Ditzy, I suppose you want to hang around for a minute in case I need to send a response?” Ditzy nodded. “Alright, I’ll take a look now.” I led the way into my lounge room again. Ditzy took a spot on my couch with an audible sigh of relief.

“Goldie,” I said as I stood by the table, “could you hold that out for me please?” Carrot nodded and held the envelope out. I leant forward and tore the end off of it, then I took it in my mouth and flicked the contents out onto my coffee table. A folder and a piece of paper slid out. As they came to a halt a photo slid out of the folder.

“Is that Colgate?” Carrot said as she slid turned the photo to face her. There was a thud from somewhere. “It is her, look.” She slid the photo around to me. It was Colgate. Her mane was shorter, as was her horn, but it was her. Must have been taken a few years back, it was a profile photo of the sort done in schools.

“It is,” I confirmed.

I flipped over the loose piece of paper to find a letter from Siren.

Time Turner

After your last letter I sent one of my assistants down to the archives to find any sixth law violations on record. Such violations are by their nature hard to track down, but this search bore fruit.

Cross referencing Ponyville with all violations on record brought up only a single pony, other than you of course. I’ve enclosed her dossier. Since she is a previous offender, and already on notice, if she is indeed the source of the time spell you experienced, then it is crucial she be apprehended. I don’t need to explain to you of all ponies how dangerous violators can become if left unchecked. A warlock with skill in time magic is something that must be avoided at all cost.

Since you are uniquely skilled in the matter, I leave apprehension entirely up to you.

Siren

“Well buck.” So much for my deal with Colgate then. I already told somepony about her. Our little rivalry just went up a few notches.

Turning to the dossier, I found it stamped with the seal of the Equestrian Intelligence Service and marked ‘secret’. Not really something a civilian, even a regular consultant, should be seeing. Siren was really going out on a limb here.

Seeing as Ditzy and Carrot were already here and had already seen it, I read the secret document aloud.

“Threat Dossier: Level Epsilon (Low); Name: Minuette, Alias: Colgate; Magic Level: Beta.” I sighed. “Detail: Sixth Law violator, Minuette has a talent in time magic, while untrained she has a natural Variable Time Dilation Spell. It is believed she has previously used this spell on a regular basis. However it was not discovered until she attempted to use it during a written examination that resulted in her expulsion from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns. Minuette was pardoned by Princess Celestia on the provision she keep use of any time magic to an absolute minimum. Conclusion: Minuette is to be monitored as convenient and is to be considered a null threat until she relapses. Violation of the conditions of her pardon will escalate her threat level to Beta (High) and will require immediate apprehension and reformation, or… petrification.”

Stepping back from the dossier I could see the slack jawed expressions on Ditzy and Carrot Top’s faces. Both were genuinely speechless.

I sat down in my armchair with a sigh. “And I’m the one who’s supposed to bring her in. Because she violated the terms of her pardon.” I gave the dossier on the table a kick. “And then they’ll throw her in a dungeon or add her to the Canterlot Statue Garden right alongside Discord.”

Then I heard a panicked whimper. Leaning forward in my chair I looked at the other two. They were looking around, they’d heard it too. Then again, it wasn’t the only suspicious sound I’d heard this morning.

I scanned the room for hiding places. Nothing behind the chairs or under the table, but the curtains were still closed. In the corner, where the curtains came up against the side of my thunder forged vault there was a bump. Now that I was listening for it, I could just hear an almost panicked breathing.

“Minuette.” I said solemnly. “I can see you.” A gasp. Then time seemed to slow down as the constant sound of my clocks was reduced to a dull thud. The stillness in the air broke with a rip as Colgate came flying out of the curtain as it tore around her glowing horn. Once out, she changed course for the front door and left the curtain floating in air as if gravity had stopped. Then the effect ended as she went out the front door and the curtain fell to the ground.

Carrot Top flew to her hooves, standing on the couch while Ditzy took off into the air. “Celestia!” Carrot gasped. “What was that?”

“That was Colgate,” I said as I rolled out of my chair. “I’m going after her.”

“Why are you going after her?” Ditzy asked. “She’s just scared.”

“Exactly, and now she thinks she’s got nothing to lose.” On my way to the door I stopped by my coat rack to put my Fedora on my head. “And if she escapes, then she’ll be branded a criminal.” I looked back toward two of my best friends, I shook my head slightly. “Right now I’m the only one who can save her.”

I charged out the door. Looking around I caught a glimpse of her as she bolted around a corner and down the road toward her home. She was already ahead, so I galloped after as fast as I could.

When you get down to it, unicorns aren’t really built for endurance. A mare like Colgate might be a decent sprinter over a short distance, but an earth pony would catch up eventually, and I’ve had a lifetime of experience running. Turning the corner at full clip I nearly lost my footing, but I came around fast enough to see Colgate disappear into the market.

Weaving through the crowd I finally spotted Colgate in the distance, she was leaning against a post trying to catch her breath.

“Colgate, wait!” I called forward. Colgate turned to see me, shock on her face, and then started looking around.

I wove around a crowd gathered around Bon-Bon’s stall and made for Colgate. But before I could reach her, I took a full broadside of tomatoes from a nearby stall. A few hit my eyes and unbalanced me enough for something to trip me. From the dust in the ground I heard somepony bolt. “Back up.”

On the second try, I dove over a market stall countertop – making some cherry jam in the process – and ducked down. The tomato barrage hit the stallion tending the stall and the wall behind him instead.

Colgate bolted off again, but this time I followed her from the other side of the market counters. Making my way around the occupants of the stalls cost me time, but I kept the tired unicorn in sight. Colgate kept looking back, throwing more food at me and forcing me to duck it. Before we reached the end of the market she’d plastered more than a few stalls with the contents of their cross market neighbour.

Once we left the market Colgate ran out of ammo, and so I chased her directly again. “Colgate! Stop running!”

“Just leave me alone!” She called back over her shoulder. Getting closer, I came alongside Colgate. Before I could grab her, she looked back, saw me, and made for the nearest building. Caught by the abrupt change in her course, I had to slide to a halt before I could chase her inside.

The building turned out to be Quills and Sofas. Colgate was stuck at the back, unable to open the other door. Seeing me, Colgate circled the showroom away from me. I hurdled a davenport and Colgate threw a pillow in my face. Bouncing off another sofa, I saw Colgate buck the back door off its hinges and throw a jarful of quills into the air.

I followed her out through the feather cloud in time to see her duck into another building. Following her inside this one brought me through the back of Art and Antiques. Looking out the front door I couldn’t see her. She was still in here.

Turning to the proprietor, I asked, “Have you seen a blue unicorn?” She regarded me rather strangely and pointed behind me.

Turning back around, I saw Colgate behind a big grandfather clock. She pushed it over. My world became that of a falling clock. It was a nice clock too: gold filigree, marble faceplate, the pendulum was a ball of crystal. I couldn’t let it break.

“Argh.” I caught the clock with both hooves and slowly pushed it back while Colgate bolted. A good push got the clock upright again, as the balance tipped it fell back with a crash against the wall. I winced. Running out of the store after Colgate, I yelled back, “I’ll fix that!”

Colgate was fast losing steam and I quickly caught up to her as we crossed the town’s centre square. Gasping, she stumbled into Parties and Pranks. As I burst in after her, she looked back and with a flickering horn she tipped a rack full of marbles over.

Rather than dumbly running through the marble minefield I took a box of sneezing powder off the shelf, ripped the cord to open it and lobbed it at her. As I did that, she did the same to the rest of the boxes and stumbled toward me and the door. I moved forward to grab her as she tried to pass, and she dragged us through the large pink sneezing cloud.

Outside again, Colgate fell to the ground and lay there. By this point she’d had to have worn out her legs and given herself a splitting migraine from using all that magic.

I fought off a sneezing fit. Much like Colgate, the powder had stolen my breath and left me puffing to clear my nose. Making my way over to the mare, I stood over her and booped her on the nose. “I… got... you.”

Colgate sighed something unintelligible and let her head fall back against the ground. Something about the entire situation seemed funny to me, and I laughed. Then for some reason Colgate giggled breathlessly as well. Out of breath, our coats covered in a pink powder, and possibly having performed the single greatest bit of mayhem Ponyville had seen this month, a bit of laughter seemed the right response.

“Halt!” barked a harsh voice. Looking around I found we’d been surrounded by a squad of royal guards.

Apparently this didn’t seem funny to them.

The Pony With A Captive Audience

Dozing off in my bunk was difficult under circumstances. The constant clicking noise from the door was the kind of distraction that I couldn’t help thinking about.

“Colgate, that lock fits a double sided key with six teeth on each side and with a possible six positions for each of those teeth. That gives you twelve to the power of six in possible combinations. Unless you know how those work, you’re not getting through it.”

The clicking stopped briefly. Then whatever unseen glare she was shooting at me ended and Colgate returned to cracking the lock. I rolled over on my bunk. “Minuette, it’s just like the lock on my vault at home. When I had to open that, it took me a day and a half, specialist tools from my workshop, my mechanical expertise, and generously donated time and magic from Rarity to crack it.”

The clicking stopped again as I said Colgate’s actual name. It was a calculated risk; last time I’d said it, ‘Colgate’ had led me on a merry chase across Ponyville. There was fruit thrown, doors broken, and plenty of collateral damage. The only thing missing had been an upbeat saxophone background track.

After wearing ourselves out, the guards finally caught up and threw us in the dungeon – or the closest thing to one in these parts. The Ponyville Drunk Tank was a barred cage located in the smaller half of the Town Hall’s basement, the rest of which held filing cabinets for the town’s records.

Inside the tank was a very basic bathroom, solid stone floors and walls, and a set of bunks to sleep off the alcohol in. The bunk I’d ended up in smelt like mint for some reason. I couldn’t guess why, but I knew Colgate hadn’t used it.

There was a growl and a rattling from the lock before Colgate stood, turned, and bucked it with “Hyah!” The following crack made my eyes wince. Colgate gasped in pain and fell over onto her back while cradling her hind hooves.

I stared back at the ceiling. Somepony had scratched a dozen marks into the underside of the upstairs floorboards. For example, ‘When it comes to Ponyville’s apples, I’ve got the in-cider story’. Considering the pun, the author had to have been sober enough to write, yet still drunk enough to find it funny.

Across the cell, the opposite bunk squeaked as Colgate fell into it with a hiss of relief. We spent a good ten minutes in silence while I contemplated some mechanical contrivance that I’d never have the time to actually make.

If the hair on the back of my neck was any judge, Colgate spent that time watching me before finally asking, “Why are you so calm?”

I let my head roll over so I could face her and said, “Because we have nothing to worry about.”

“Oh, because you’re some big shot secret agent and you have a get out of jail card?”

“I’m only a consultant,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “Just try thinking things through, for once,” I finished quietly. “It’s not like we blew up something, the mayor will just pop down here tomorrow morning and ask for an apology before releasing us.” Looking back at the ceiling a thought hit and I added, “You might also have to pay for damages.”

There was a squeak as Colgate shifted to face me properly. “Why do I have to pay for the damages?”

“Because you threw a market full of fruit at me,” I said.

“You were the one chasing.”

“You broke into my house.” I shifted to face her again. “While I’m thinking about it, what exactly were you doing in my house?”

“Well what were you doing in mine?” She was glaring at me again. “You and that damn alarm clock that had your name brass plaqued to the bottom of it. It was in my bedroom! And I’ll bet it was you that stole my toothbrush, messed up my magazines, and took the bookmark out of my novel.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned the fridge.”

Colgate blinked. “What did you do to my fridge!?”

I tried to grin unsettlingly. “I’ll let you figure that out.”

She pointed a hoof at me. “So you did do all that.”

I held up my hooves and protested, “Innocent until proven guilty.”

“Your name was on the clock,” she charged.

I smirked back at her. “It’s on most of the clocks in town. You could have just bought that one from me and planted it there.”

“You just said you were in my house.”

“Hearsay, inadmissible in court,” I countered.

“So now you’re a lawyer, then?”

“No, I’m better.”

Colgate huffed. “You’re a liar and a cheat.”

I sat up and glared at her. “I am not a liar.” I looked up and down her. “And you’re an obsessive and self-deluded singer.”

Colgate’s eyes widened. “How did you know that? Were you watching me?”

“It’s in your real name,” I explained. “’Minuette’, it’s a fancy word for a song, isn’t it?”

She sighed. “A minuet,” she pronounced it like ‘minu-it’, “is a style of music for a two pony dance in three quarter time, usually characterized by small steps.” I raised an eyebrow and Colgate scratched her head. “I looked it up once.”

“And what does Colgate mean?”

“I saw it on an old tube of toothpaste,” she said quietly.

“I think I prefer your real name.” I laid myself back against the bunk mattress. “I don’t need to tell you what Time Turner means, you’ve seen it. Normally I have to make something up about clocks.”

The name game was interrupted by the loud mechanical sound of a heavy lock turning. The door outside the cell bars opened and ponies walked into the Drunk Tank’s antechamber. Both Colgate and I stood up to walk over to the bars. From outside the mayor walked in, followed by Carrot Top and Lyra. The mayor didn’t look very happy.

“Time Turner,” the mayor began.

Full name... I thought. This wasn’t going to end well.

The mayor continued, “My office has been flooded with complaints, the farmer’s market are crying foul over damages, and Davenport is saying the two of your ruined half his merchandise when you tromped through Quills and Sofas. You’ve been a useful public servant, Turner, but I can’t have somepony working for my office if they’re a problem.”

“Mayor,” I said. “It’s not like we’ve destroyed any buildings.”

The mayor let loose a frustrated sigh. “Don’t remind me about those. Now, your friends tell me that the pair of you have some form of rivalry, and that if it continues it’ll probably get worse.” She pointed a hoof at me, and then to Colgate. “You two are going to sort this out, and so you’re both going to stay locked in here until you’re the best of friends.” The mayor turned to leave. “Miss Lyra, Carrot Top, I hope you’ll help these two see the error of their ways.” Then the mayor left, pulling the door shut behind her.

“Well this is all wrong.” Lyra put her face between the bars. “If anything, I should be the only unicorn behind those bars.”

“Lyra, it’s good to see you,” Colgate said, and the unicorns hugged through the bars.

“Wish I could say the same, but…” Lyra stepped out of reach. “What the hay, Colgate?! I thought you were past all this!”

“He broke into my house.”

“No I didn’t,” I called over.

“Shush, you,” Lyra said, pointing at me but keeping eyes on Colgate. “That’s still no excuse to go on a rampage ‘cross town!”

“He was chasing me,” Colgate added.

Lyra just gave her a blank stare. “Then shout for the Gendarme? Really, Colgate, you’re smarter than this. This is… this is me-levels of feather up.”

“But... I...” Colgate sunk down to the ground with a sigh. “I don’t know anymore.”

“This can’t go on and you know it. I know it, Carrot Top knows it, and Turner probably does too. Speaking of…” Lyra motioned a hoof at Carrot.

Carrot stepped up to my side of the tank. “Turner, Colgate’s going through a lot right now. I thought you didn’t want to make anything worse?”

“I don’t,” I said honestly. “But I couldn’t let her run off for reasons,” I finished with a meaningful nod. Carrot Top was clued in on Colgate’s problem, but Lyra wasn’t. At this point it was best if nopony else found out.

“Turner, try to think about this from Colgate’s point of view,” Carrot asked. She leaned forward and quietly said, “She has every reason to be scared of you. You’re some sort of secret agent sent to drag her to prison.”

“No I’m not,” I whispered back. “And locking her up won’t solve anything. She’s not some public menace.” I spared a glance at the blue unicorn on the ground in front of Lyra. “She just needs help.”

Carrot gave me a look, an unhappy look. “Have you been helping her?” Carrot chided. “And what was that she said about you breaking into her house?” She stared at my face, and the look hardened after a second. “You did.”

“I was just getting her back for the stink bomb.”

“And she did that because you...” she trailed off, leaving the accusation unsaid.

I held up a hoof. “Alright, I get your point.” I scratched the back of my neck. “I may have gotten carried away with the whole prank war.”

Carrot brought a hoof to her face. “I feel like I’m talking to a child in a timeout.” She grimaced. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Something up?” I asked.

“Too much orange juice,” Carrot replied. “Go apologize to Colgate, and I’ll be back in a bit.” Carrot turned and walked toward the door, her steady walk got a bit faster the closer she got.

I slunk over toward the unicorns. Colgate was now quietly crying, while Lyra was still trying to figure out what was wrong. Colgate probably wanted to tell her about the whole time thing: the secret former life, and the way she hated me because I’d never been caught. Standing to the side of them, I fidgeted for a moment while I waited for them to notice me.

Lyra looked up from Colgate, glared at me, and nodded at her.

I breathed in, bracing myself. “Colgate, I apologize for putting you through all this. Carrot Top asked me to open my eyes, and that I probably caused you more distress than was needed because...” I looked up at the ceiling. “Because I hate not being even.”

“Turner,” Lyra asked, “Can’t you do better than that?” I could, but it wasn’t something for Lyra to hear.

I met Colgate’s eyes as she looked up at me. “Minuette, I’ll cancel this out in a moment...”

“Minuette?” Lyra asked, confused.

“But,” I continued, “since you’re worried about your future I’ll let you know this: you’re not going to be petrified or imprisoned, the hard approach is for those who threaten others, not just somepony who’s trying to live their life. The EIS just wants me to make sure you’re not stealing from bank vaults and so on.”

“So,” Colgate asked softly. “I’m not going to lose everything again?”

“No you’re not. I’m not going to add you Celestia’s statue garden either.” I rolled my eyes. “That’s just an urban legend anyway. So, will you accept my apology?” Colgate nodded gently in response.

“Alright!” Lyra burst out. “Could somepony explain to me what you’re talking about?”

“Back up,” I murmured under my breath.

“Turner,” Lyra asked, “Can’t you do better than that?”

I gave Lyra an innocent look and answered both questions, “Not really.”

Lyra’s head tilted to the left. “So this is your most sincerest level of sincere?”

“It’s alright, Lyra,” Colgate said as she got up onto her hooves again. “I got his apology, we’re done. Can you get me out of here?”

“Ah,” Lyra rubbed the back of her head. “Can’t do that. The mayor said you have to stay.”

“What for?” I asked.

“You both made a bit of a fracas in the market this morning,” Lyra reminded.

“A fracas?” I asked sceptically. “That chase didn’t even rate as a kerfuffle.”

“Actually,” Colgate added. “I think ruckus might be more accurate, I tossed a lot of fruit around.”

I looked over at Colgate. ‘You know, if you hadn’t run, it would have just been a brouhaha,” I said.

Colgate looked at me weirdly. “What does that even mean?”

“What’s all the hubbub?” Looking over Lyra, I noticed the door was open and Carrot Top had come back.

“Ah, Goldie.” I stepped away from the others so we could see each other. “We’ve made amends and we’re ready to put all this behind us. Can you get the mayor to let us go?”

Carrot shook her head. “Nuh-uh. You’re not done yet. The mayor doesn’t want this sort of thing to happen again, and she needs to punish you two somehow for the commotion you caused. So, doing two trees with one buck, she wants you two to become friends before she lets you out.”

“What?” Colgate said. “Friends with him?” She cried, accompanied by a hoof pointed at me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Lyra snerked. “She is kidding you, actually.” She giggled again. “Mayor says she’s going to treat you like kids if you’re going to act like them, and keep you both in detention.”

I groaned. “Goldie, you’ve been here longer, was the mayor the school teacher before Cheerilee?”

“We had a bunch before Lee,” Carrot replied. “But the mayor did sound a bit like a teacher to me. She’s thinking of quizzing you about each other,” she finished with a giggle.

“Great,” I groaned.

“Hey, Carrot,” Lyra said as she stood up. “Why don’t we leave these two alone to get acquainted?”

“Good idea.” Carrot waved. “See you tomorrow, Turner.”

“Play nice, you kids,” Lyra added, and the pair left us alone.

Colgate and I glanced at each other as the door slammed shut. Neither of us made to say the first word. This was going to take a while.

“So, are we going to talk or are you going to brood there for another hour?” Sure sitting in my bunk staring at the floorboards above was slightly more interesting than watching moss grow in the basement’s stone wall, but talking to Colgate could be a heck of a lot more entertaining. We could trade insults for one.

Colgate rolled over in her bunk. “I don’t need to talk to you. I can just sit here and whisper my deep and dark secrets to the wall.”

I sighed. “You know the mayor won’t let us out till we can name each other’s favourite colours.”

“Oh, but you don’t need my help for that,” she argued. “You already have the file listing all my deepest secrets, what do you need me for?”

“That helps me with you, but how are you going to learn about me?”

“I don’t know,” Colgate said flatly. “Could you go get your own file?”

“Nopony can,” I replied nonchalant.

“Oh,” Colgate said sarcastically. “Too secret for normal ponies is it?”

“I burnt it.”

Colgate sat up in her bunk. “Wait, you burnt it?”

I shrugged. “When the EIS and I crossed paths for the first time, seeing what they had on me was the price I bargained for my services. Then I threw it into a fire.”

“What was in it?”

“It didn’t mention my time turn, but it had a lot of detail about the traveling I used to do.” I snorted. “Apparently some twit got it in his head that my wanderings concealed some ulterior motives ranging from ‘gryphon spy’ to ‘thief’.” I shook my head. “Some advice, Colgate, ‘never assume malice when you can assume ignorance’.”

“So they just let you get away with that?”

I nodded. “Siren promised me she’d have any copies destroyed too. She trusts me enough to know I’m not a threat.”

Looking back at Colgate I noticed she’d moved to sit facing me. She held up a hoof and said, “Wait, this ‘Siren’ could do that?”

“I’d hope so,” I said off hoof. “She’s the head of the Equestrian Intelligence Service.”

“You know the secret head of the EIS?” Colgate slid off her bunk.

I supposed Colgate deserved an olive branch and this wouldn’t be giving too much away. “We grew up in the same town,” I said with a shrug. “Good thing too, otherwise she’d never have trusted me, and a lot of things might be different.” For one thing, I might have been given the same treatment as Colgate, forced to give up on my talent and be watched for the rest of my life.

“She sounds like a nice pony,” Colgate said.

I nodded fondly. “One of the kindest ponies I know. Beautiful beyond words too. I had such a crush on her when I was a colt.” My head shook gently as the memories came back. “Everypony did, and she loved everypony back in her own way.” I almost sounded wistful.

Colgate sat on my bunk alongside me. “She sounds perfect.”

“She is.” I nodded. “Too perfect, you could almost feel the touch of destiny on her. The world changed around her like the bow wave of a ship.” I ran my hoof through the air.

Colgate put a hoof around my shoulder. “What happened to her?”

“Destiny got tired of waiting and came to get her,” I sighed. “Then she had to leave Trottingham behind and find out what destiny wanted her for.” Breathing in, I continued, “We were just fourteen at the time and home never seemed quite as bright without her. Once I was old enough, I left Trottingham just like she did to find out if destiny would throw something my way too.” I snorted into a chuckle. “And did it ever.”

“Then you found each other again?” Colgate asked, she almost sounded happy.

“After a few years, but she’d already found her true love,” I said with a shrug.

“Oh,” Colgate sounded disappointed.

“Can’t blame her,” I said. “He had a similar sort of, ‘ooo, destiny’ feel as well.” I waved my hooves around a bit for emphasis. “Fate’s got some plan for them and it’s probably a bad idea to be in the way.”

Colgate pulled me into a surprising hug. “That’s so tragic. You spent years searching for her, only to lose her to another pony.”

Looking down, I was at a loss to understand Colgate. “I just left to find my own adventure and discover myself,” I explained. “This isn’t a romance story.”

Colgate pulled back like I’d just caught fire. “Well I thought for a moment that you might actually be a good pony.”

I rolled my eyes. “Here we go again, you’re still holding onto the idea that I must be a bad pony, like how you clamped onto the idea that Caramel was deeply in love with you.”

Colgate gasped in shock and slapped me across the face. I just sighed and said, “reset”, wiped out the last bit of the conversation – for all that mattered – and caught her hoof. She did try to avoid my block, but without surprise on her side I was still able to stop her.

“I think we’ve done enough of that,” I said flatly. “You got to face up to that assumption problem of yours or Celestia knows what might happen. Last thing Equestria needs is for you to start changing the timeline until you end up with the colt of your dreams.”

Colgate struggled for a moment to find her words. “I’d... I’d never do that. Besides, it’s been proven that it’s impossible to change the timeline using magic.”

“Yet the Sixth Law explicitly states, Thou shalt not alter the timeline, despite conventional wisdom saying it’s impossible. Clearly the makers didn’t want somepony to play around with time magic enough to figure out some form of loop hole and actually manage it.” I gave her a serious glare. “Think about this then, Colgate, time magic is lumped with the black magics because it presents a similar temptation. Once you start using it, you’ll always be tempted to use it to do more, and then you’re on the slippery slope to being declared a warlock.”

“You use yours all the time,” she charged and poked me in the chest.

“Oh I do,” I said happily. “Whenever I feel like it. Back up.” The time turn kicked in and we went back a few seconds before it abruptly stopped. A jolt similar to a static charge pinched me on the flank. “Ouch.”

Colgate frowned. “What happened?” she asked as she looked around.

“The Barrier,” I explained, “The quantum whatever of the universe doesn’t let me run over ground I’ve already changed until a minute or two passes.” I gave my flank a rub. “I’m just a one trick pony, that’s all I can do. I can’t feel trees and grass growing like other earth ponies can. My time turn lets me save my own flank occasionally and cheat at poker games, but I can’t time travel properly and so I’m not a major threat. Somepony with some preparation or luck can still catch me out.”

“I can’t even do that much,” Colgate argued. “I just save myself some time, speed up appointments, or get an extra few minutes here and there. Why am I more of a threat than you?”

“You’re a unicorn!” I was getting more and more exasperated over this. “You might only have one trick now, but whatever you call that spell—”

“Clock-up,” she interrupted.

“Whatever,” I dismissed. “It’s just the beginning. You can learn, or perhaps even invent more spells. Sure I can turn back time, but with a bit of work you might be able to do it too, or even” – a brainwave struck me – “travel through time...” My voice faded.

“Time Turner,” Colgate said quietly. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Celestia’s sweet flank... I’d spent long nights trying to puzzle out the biggest mystery of my life: my future self. Occasionally when I was alone, and whenever I must damn well please, I’d been visited by a version of me from the future. Never for long, something had always pulled me, or will pull me, back within a minute or two. But it was always long enough to deliver some infuriatingly cryptic message to myself. Sometimes it was a warning, sometimes a hint, but it never made sense until the right moment. For example, I was still waiting to figure out what ‘Always check the fridges’ meant.

I never figured out how he did it, proper time travel is beyond me. But it might not be beyond Minuette. Short of say, Twilight Sparkle, I didn’t know any other unicorn that could do it.

“Are you alright in there?” She tapped me on the head.

“I was just thinking. One moment, I need a drink.” I stood up and went to the sink that thoughtfully combined a drinking fountain for chasing away hangovers, and a washbasin for cleaning what might come back to haunt a heavy drinker. I drank first, and then I filled up the basin to wash my face. Once it was full I stared at the moving reflection of my face in the water and started to think again.

The future is murky, foreknowledge might help light a path, but it can never be fully trusted. For example, if you were told something bad might happen next week, you might find out that by attempting to prevent it you’ll cause it instead. It’s a well-known theory, but the next bit is where it gets confusing. The only thing you know for certain is that you travel back, the events leading up to that can, and will, change.

In laypony terms: The future is a lot of paths and only one is traveled. Foreknowledge will illuminate a point in the distance, but not how you get to or go from there. It makes perfect sense to me, but it’s my thing.

Knowing that Colgate could be the vehicle for allowing my future visitations – or more correctly, a likely candidate thereof – meant that we might potentially have a working relationship. Until I was sure, it was in my interests to keep her close at hoof until things revealed themselves.

Once I finished considering my actions, I returned to the bunk and stood in front of where Colgate was still waiting. “Alright, Colgate, I need to clear something up. Your abilities make you a threat, much like most high level unicorns. I assume you remembered what happened when Twilight had her manic moment a few months ago?”

“The, ‘Want It, Need It’ spell?” Colgate said with a wince. “Yeah, I got hit by that. When I snapped out of it I found that I’d gotten into a fight with Carrot Top over that doll.” Her shoulders slumped. “And I lost.”

I nodded slowly. “So you understand then. You’re a unique threat because of what you can do. But as we’ve noticed, I’m affected in the same way your spells affect you. This means that if one day you went crazy like Twilight did; then I’d be getting an urgent summons to come stop you. Because of that, Siren trusted your apprehension entirely up to me, which means I get to decide the details. You follow me?”

Colgate looked up at me. “So you’re still going to arrest me?”

I shrugged. “Well you’ve definitely broken the terms of your release, which means I’m supposed to.” Scratching my chin I added, “Not a high priority though, it’s down on my list of things to do past fixing the town clock, doing my taxes, and visiting the moon. So as far as you’re concerned, you’re a free mare. And since I’m the one playing judge, you can use your time spells as you see fit.” Colgate’s face brightened considerably. “On the proviso...” I gave her a hard look. “That you keep that obsessive streak in check.”

“Perfectly clear,” she replied with a nod.

Considering, Well, Siren still owes me for Manehatten. She should be able to keep things off for a while. Looking back at Colgate, I could see her sitting straighter and more alert. Of course if she scored a few points with the right ponies then she’d never have to worry about that again.

“Alright,” I said with some enthusiasm. “That’s cleared everything up. Since we very definitely got started on the wrong hoof, let’s try again.” I held out a hoof. “Hello, I’m Time Turner.”

Colgate stood up and brought a hoof up to bump mine. “Hello, Time Turner, I’m Minuette.”

“Nice to meet you too, Minuette.” We bumped. “I get the feeling that this is the start of an interesting friendship.”

“Don’t look.”

“I’m not looking,” exasperation filled my voice. I put my head in my hooves and rubbed my forehead. This is going so well already. “Honestly, why would I want to?”

“I don’t know, just don’t,” Colgate said back. “It just wouldn’t be right if you did.” This objection was followed by a grunt of effort and a rather satisfying plop.

“Sounds like you’re getting enough fibre in your diet then.” The resulting cry of dismay was joined by my laughter. The Drunk Tank wasn’t exactly intended for dealing with privacy issues amongst mixed genders, the toilet for example.

“This is all so wrong,” Colgate said.

“Obviously you’ve never been camping,” I quipped. “Doing it like a bear where the whole forest can see you.”

“Disgusting.”

“At least you have a bidet there.” I could almost hear the involuntary shudder. “You need to get out more, Colgate.”

“I think I’ll stay at home,” she muttered, “Where it’s clean.”

Looking back over my shoulder I replied, “You’ve got wonderful talent, Colgate, but it’s not going to help you if you sit yourself at home singing to yourself.”

“I don’t need to. I have a successful share in the dentistry, a house, savings, friends,” she shrugged, “I don’t need anything else, and you’re looking.” She shot a glare my way, which lost some of its intensity considering her compromising position.

Standing up, I walked her way. “So you’re secure in life. A worthy goal, but that doesn’t make your life well lived. Really a pony should aspire to more in life,” I finished casually as I came to a stop in front of her.

“Oh I’m giving up on love,” she said bitterly. “It’ll only cause problems.”

“Yes it does,” I agreed neutrally. “But there’s more to that in life, there’s adventure, excitement, things to be experienced.” I shrugged. “Travel’s good for that.”

“Do you mind?”

“Sorry.” I turned around. There was the sound of a water stream hitting something, followed by a flush.

Colgate strode past me, shaking out her tail. “So now you’re lecturing me on how to live my life?” She asked as she returned to her bunk. “How much do you make as a timekeeper? I thought it was the lowest wage bracket.”

“It is,” I agreed. “But I sell clocks as well, and I pull in the occasional large windfall. All up I have a fairly significant nest egg saved up in my vault.”

Colgate’s mouth opened a tad. “So that’s what’s in there,” she said under her breath.

My eyebrow rose. “You were interested in my vault?”

“It’s a huge steel vault in the middle of your house,” she countered. “Of course I was interested.” Colgate frowned and added, “I’d hoped taking whatever was inside would upset you after you broke into my house. But I couldn’t open the lock.”

“So that’s why you were hiding in the curtain behind it. Considering how many bits I keep in there: yeah, I would be upset.”

“Why would you keep it there, and not a bank?” Colgate looked at me weirdly.

“If I put it all in a bank it would be a matter of record, and then the tax ponies would start asking if I’d paid enough to cover it.” I gave her an aside glance. “I could travel to the other side of the world and they’d still find me. Best they don’t hear about it in the first place.”

“Uh huh, how much?”

“Somewhere north of six thousand,” I replied matter of fact.

Colgate’s jaw dropped. “How in the hoof did you get that much together?”

“A: Not spending it,” I said, “B: I’m really good at poker, you can guess why. And C: I charge a fortune in consultancy fees when somepony drags me out somewhere.” I shrugged. “Really I’m in it for the adventure, but if they’re going to pay…” I added a meaningful nod.

“Well everything seems to be working out for you,” Colgate grumbled as she sat down on her bunk. “All the adventure, you don’t work nearly as hard as I do, and yet you have money you don’t use.”

“Just because I don’t look like I’m working hard, doesn’t make that true,” I said. “I do a lot, often without much celebration.”

“Like what?” Colgate asked.

“I have helped a lot ponies and saved a couple of towns, though they don’t know it.” I shrugged. “I’ve also stopped a few monsters and the occasional madpony: The Warlock of the Wastes, The Forty Thieves of Freeport, The Vampire of Hollow Shades, and—”

Colgate tutted, and flatly said, “A vampire. Really?”

“Somepony in an old set of Night Guard armour actually. She only thought she was a vampire.” I shook my head. “Missing a few apples from her tree, though that could be said for anypony in Hollow Shades,” I muttered. “Whole town doesn’t get any light under all those shade trees, and not forgetting that their diets are mushroom based.”

“And they never see the sun?” Colgate asked.

“Only at the height of noon, otherwise it’s just dark. They have lamps that are never blown out and burn bright at all times.”

“How can they live like that?”

“Because they always have,” I reasoned. “Equestria is full of strange places like that. How can pegasi live in cloud cities like Los Pegasus? You can’t get a lot of ground based stuff up there, but somehow they managed to find ways to make clouds fill all the gaps.”

“Hmm,” Colgate mused as she scratched her horn. “So it makes sense to them, if not us.” Her eyes wandered back to me. “Are there any other strange places?”

I smiled back at her. “I know this magical city where water flows through carved channels, at once acting as decoration and power source. It’s seasonably temperate despite its high altitude, though winter does sneak through sooner than elsewhere. The streets are paved with marble, and in the markets you can find just about anything for the right price. Music is played in the theatres on a daily basis and actors come from as far as Westmarch to perform, though the best are from Trottingham, mind you.” I leant back against the wall. “It’s the kind of city where adventure can be found around every corner.”

“It sounds amazing,” Colgate agreed wistfully. “Where is it?”

“Canterlot, the capital of Equestria,” I answered.

Colgate slumped forward. “Canterlot…” She held her head in her hooves. “I didn’t even remember it.”

“Something wrong, Minuette?” I asked cautiously. I hadn’t expected this sort of reaction, frankly I was aiming for her to guess and start reminiscing about it.

“It’s just been a long time since I went home to Canterlot. Though in some ways, I never actually went there,” she said mournfully.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. “The mayor wants me to learn about you, this sounds like the right sort of thing.”

“Okay, if you really want to hear about it.” Colgate laid herself down on her back, treating her bunk like a psychologist’s couch. “My family have lived in Canterlot as long as records go back. We were always good with magic, so when I was old enough to go to school the first place my family sent me was to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.” Colgate sighed wistfully. “My parents watched as I went through the aptitude test and had my magical ability rated at beta level, one of the highest scores in my grade. My parents were so proud.”

“So they should have been.” I sat myself down on the hard stone floor beside Colgate’s bunk, posturing myself so I was at eye level with her. “Celestia’s School is basically the be all and end all of magical education – at least as far as I know.”

“It is,” Colgate echoed. “A beta isn’t a common rating. I was expected to be the best, and to match or exceed anything my ancestors had achieved. My parents wanted me to become a magus, or an arch-magus, to be one of those special few unicorns who had a true mastery of magic. I was pressured to succeed, to be the best.”

My thoughts went back to the class picture I’d found in Colgate’s bedroom. “But you weren’t the best, were you?”

Colgate shook her head, rolling it back and forth across the pillow. “Any other year maybe, but nopony at the school in my year, or otherwise, had a chance to match up to Twilight Sparkle.” Colgate huffed, at once frustrated but still impressed. “Betas are rare, an alpha is one in a thousand, but Twilight had a whole new rating made for her: alpha-plus. She was magnitudes above me, determined, and under the Princess’s personal tutelage just so she could make sure Twilight didn’t blow up Canterlot. She was magic in pony form. I was never going to match up to her.

“My parents understood. They were disappointed, but they understood. Instead they challenged me to be as good as Twilight, to match her intelligence if I couldn’t meet her in raw power.” Colgate chuckled bitterly. “Oh how I tried. While everypony else my age was out having fun, I was studying. But no matter how long I spent with my head in books, I couldn’t meet Twilight’s knowledge singularity. I needed more time, always more time so I could catch up and meet her at her own game.”

“So that’s how you discovered your time spell,” I hazarded a guess.

Colgate nodded. “My Clock Up, it got me the extra time I needed. If I paced myself with only a little time difference, I could stretch an extra hour or so into a study session. The first time I didn’t even realize I was doing it, and I didn’t even know my cutie mark had appeared until mother pointed it out when I came downstairs for breakfast the morning after.”

“So it helped?”

“Yep, I finally managed to keep pace with Twilight. My parents were proud, my teachers thought I was incredible, and the councillor said I was on track to burning myself out.”

“Then what happened?” I asked.

The enthusiasm on Colgate’s face faded. “One year during final exams, I burnt my candle at both ends revising everything. I wanted so badly to do better than Twilight that I spent every waking hour during the revision period under the effects of my clock up spell. My days became longer, my sleep pattern dissolved and I didn’t even leave my room. While other ponies were out enjoying Canterlot, I was chasing an impossible goal to the exclusion of everything else.

“Eventually I became manic: crying for no reason, shaking uncontrollably, I shouted at ponies who interrupted my study, and I think I might have missed a few meals. Then when the exam day finally came, I thought absolutely nothing of using my clock up to extend the exam period.”

Colgate shrugged. “I told myself it wasn’t cheating, I was just using my special talent to level the playing field with Twilight and her royal tutor. Better yet, because the exam was only a few hours, I knew I could increase the clock up ratio because I didn’t have to hold it all day. Halfway through the exam the teachers started to talk. I didn’t notice what they were saying because everything else was just so slow compared to me.

“I was on the last page when I was finally tapped on the shoulder.” Gazing up at the floorboard above, Colgate continued. “Instead of stopping, I turned the clock as far as I could while writing as fast as possible.” She snorted with laughter. “I actually finished the last page before the teachers could shut me down. When they did, I collapsed from exhaustion. All my magic had gone into the spell, followed by whatever energy my body could summon.”

“Finally burning yourself out,” I noted.

“Very much so,” Colgate confirmed. “I woke up a day later, under guard, restrained, and with an adamantine inhibitor ring on my horn. They thought I was a warlock. I didn’t do myself any favours when I started to yell back at them, making it look like I’d driven myself mad with forbidden black magic. I was firmly informed that I’d broken the laws of magic and that I’d been expelled from Celestia’s School. If the princess herself hadn’t pardoned me I would have been imprisoned or reformed for what I’d done.”

I ran a hoof through my mane. “That’s a heck of a story. I also see why they thought you’d gone warlock, a lot of them have stories like you. They use dark magic to get that little edge, and then doing it more and more as it slowly corrupts them.” Leaning against her bunk I added, “So how did you end up as a dentist?”

“It was a month before I left my room again. By that time the news had spread: no magic school would touch me, private tutors refused to see me, and the dream of becoming a magus was placed firmly beyond my reach.” Colgate rubbed her horn and said, “The worst part was the way my parents were blamed. They were shut out of the Canterlot Elite and there were rumours about how they were keeping a warlock in a dungeon hidden in the basement of our house. So to keep them safe, I left.

“The princess arranged for me to receive a new identity and career. Since there’s always a shortage of dentists, that’s what they assigned me. I was sent here to Ponyville with a new name I’d got off a tube of old toothpaste to make me sound authentic, and given a traineeship at the local dental clinic. Provided I didn’t use my talents again, and avoided Canterlot, I’d be able to live my life happily ever after.” Colgate sat up. “So that’s my life story,” Colgate said before bitterly adding, “Literally it. I wasted my entire childhood studying and got nothing to show for it.”

“Well,” I said as I stood back up. “That… uh.” I rubbed my forehead. “There’s nothing I can really say about that. That is genuinely frustrating. What you need right now is sugar, and lots of it, preferably in ice-cream.”

“Ice cream?” Colgate’s nose wrinkled. “Do you have any idea how bad that is for your teeth?”

“Stop thinking like a dentist, Minuette,” I told her. “It’s just a job you were given because there was a vacancy. Anyway, you of all ponies should know that as long as you clean it off after, it won’t damage your teeth.” I went back across the room to look under my bunk.

“Well how am I going to clean it off without my toothbrush?” She said after me, somewhat indignantly. “More to the point, we’re locked in here, how the am I going to eat ice cream if there isn’t any?”

“Because we’re going to go get some,” I said as I looked around. “Have you seen my hat? I know I was still wearing it when they arrested us.”

“Why do you need your hat?”

“Because it looks stylish and I keep stuff in it.” Looking through the bars I caught sight of it hanging on the back of the outer door. “Ah, there it is. Minuette, could you bring my hat over?”

“Okay,” she said sceptically. Her horn lit up and a glow surrounded my hat. It floated off the door hook and toward the bars before flipping on its side to pass through the gap.

I took it in my hooves and turned it over to look inside. My pocket watch was still hanging inside along the top of the crown. “Seven thirty, Sugar Cube Corner should still be open for a little while longer.” Sticking my face inside, I used my tongue to pull down the lining and retrieved my insurance policy.

“What are those?” Colgate asked.

Shifting them to the side of my mouth I replied, “Lock picks.”

Colgate blinked. “You keep lock picks in your hat?”

“You wouldn’t believe how useful they are,” I said as I started looking into the keyhole of the Drunk Tank’s cell door. “This probably uses the Town Hall skeleton key, easy to crack.”

“Easy to…” Colgate stumbled over her words. “Couldn’t you have done that sooner?”

I looked back over my shoulder. “I didn’t have my hat before.” Turning back I rolled the picks to the front of my mouth, but before I stuck them in I had a better idea. Looking back over my shoulder again I asked, “You’d be good at fine control, right? Come over here, you’ll be faster.”

“It didn’t work before.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you how this time. You just need to hit the skeleton key tumblers at the end.”

Colgate stepped forward and took the pair of picks out of my mouth. “Okay, what do I do?”

“It’s a double sided key,” I began, “Just hold the picks so their teeth are opposite each other, then reach for the last pair of tumblers and fully depress them before gently turning.”

“It’s that easy?” she asked sceptically.

I shrugged. “It’s just a drunk tank, not the palace dungeons. It also makes it easier to deal with problems if an outgoing mayor forgets to hoof over her keys to a successor.”

“Alright then.” Colgate leant over to look down the lock, deftly manoeuvring the picks with the same skill she’d use with dental picks. She shifted her neck a few times to get the glow of her horn down the keyhole, and she was soon able to turn the mechanism.

I gave the door a push and it swung open with a rough squeak. I took the picks back and returned them to my hat lining. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait,” Colgate said as she waited inside the cell. “Aren’t we supposed to stay in here until morning?”

“We’ll be back later,” I reassured her before flipping my hat back onto my head “It’s no big deal. Also, you may not have noticed, but nopony brought us dinner.”

“Oh.”

I led the way back upstairs. Like any true bureaucracy, Ponyville’s Town Hall closes promptly the moment the royal clock hits five pm and the building is rapidly deserted by its workers. Nopony was upstairs to stop us walking out the front door which, in true Ponyville style, hadn’t been locked.

“Alright,” Colgate said, “I’ll just go get my toothbrush and I’ll—”

I stopped her leaving. “Toothbrush later, we don’t have long before the Cakes shut up shop.”

Colgate fell in behind me again with a sigh. She really needed to break some of her habits. If I was going to spend any time around her, her fear of sugar was something that had to be dealt with as sweetly as possible. If you’re going to help somepony change, you need to start with the small things.

Sugar Cube Corner was still open when we arrived, the doors wide open as light flooded out into the evening air. Colgate hesitated at the base of the steps and looked over at me. I nodded for her to continue up. Once she trudged up, we went in through the open door.

Inside was the usual crowd of night ponies. Once the sun sets, anypony with a family is usually at home for dinner and together time. Ponies without families tend to end up in social locations that can serve better food than what they could cook. Those wanting alcohol drift toward the couple of bars in Ponyville, while those who want to satisfy their sweet tooth often end up at the Corner.

The existing patrons were too caught up in their own things to notice Colgate and me walk in, but somepony else did. Pinkie Pie appeared in front of us with a tray full of treats and coffee balanced on her tail. “Hey, Colgate! Huh... where’s the brightest, whitest smile in Ponyville? C’mon, let’s fix that.” Pinkie pointed over at a vacant table and continued, “Your table’s over there, and Turner will be back with your treats in a jiffy.”

“Hang on—”

Pinkie put a foreleg around my neck and started pushing me along. “Come on, Turner, it’s nearly ready.”

“What’s nearly ready?” I asked as I was slid into the kitchen.

Pinkie giggled. “Your special order, silly: the super-fantastical quad-choc apology-fudge.” Pinkie opened an industrial sized fridge, reached in and threw something out over her shoulder. The flying object landed on the bench beside me, bounced off the tiled wall and spun to a halt. It was a thick piece of fudge, and it was indeed layered with four different shades of chocolate and a cherry on top.

My mouth was already watering. “That looks amazing.”

“It’s not done yet,” Pinkie said. She appeared beside me, pulled a facemask down, and produced a welding torch. I barely covered my eyes before the light in the room increased, along with a whoosh sound, and a sudden rise in temperature. When it was over, I uncovered my eyes to see where some of the chocolate had gone molten and how the cherry’s stem had caught fire.

“How did you come up with this?” I asked uncertainty.

“Oh, you told me how you wanted it,” Pinkie said matter of fact.

My thoughts tripped over Pinkie’s comment, did I now… “Well um… I’m sorry, Pinkie, but I bumped my head earlier and I seem to have forgotten. I came in earlier, you said?”

“Yeperooni,” Pinkie said while nodding. Then she produced a notepad and reading from it, she recited, “You said you wanted a table for seven fifty pm, a big bit of fudge for an apology with as much chocolate as possible, and apple fritters for the pair of you. I thought you meant Carrot Top, but you never said who you’d bring with you, so you must have got it for Colgate then.”

“Did I say anything else?”

“Only that, ‘the future is in flux’, and so I shouldn’t tell anypony about it until you ask.” Pinkie shrugged. “So I Pinkie Promised I wouldn’t tell anypony until you came in again, and then you ran off around a corner and there was a flash.” Pinkie scratched “Though I don’t know where that flash came from.”

“Somepony with a camera, probably,” I reasoned.

“That’ll be Featherweight,” Pinkie supplied. “He’s taking pictures of everything.”

So, I thought to myself, Future me is interfering again, and I seem to be on the right path. Looking over at the fudge, I said to Pinkie, “I’d better take this out to Colgate. It should put a smile back on her face. Thank you for this, Pinkie.”

“Oh don’t thank me, thank Mrs Cake for making it when you pay for this tomorrow.”

I suppressed a groan, asking, “How much does this all come to?”

“Forty-five all up,” Pinkie said enthusiastically. “We used a lot of chocolate.”

“I’ll be around tomorrow with the money, thanks again,” I said before taking the plate of fudge in my mouth.

“You’re welcome,” Pinkie echoed.

Nopony paid me much notice until I sat down across from Colgate where she was playing around with a ‘Reserved’ sign while waiting. I plonked the expensive fudge down in front of her. Colgate recoiled back and covered her mouth. “What is that?” came a muffled question.

“Well,” I began, “according to my understanding of the average mare, this stuff is the solution to all of life’s problems.”

“You can’t honestly expect me to eat that,” Colgate said as she pushed it away.

“Colgate, you’re just being grouchy,” I retorted and pushed the plate back. “The sugar, caffeine, and taste of this will help cheer you up.”

“I don’t need cheering up,” she said, but she didn’t push the plate away this time.

I groaned, and kneaded my forehead. “Colgate, I’m trying to help you.”

“You already apologized and promised me my freedom,” Colgate said somewhat appreciatively. She smile slightly and added, “You’ve done enough. You can just get back to your own life, I’m fine.”

“Have you spoken to Carrot Top lately?” I asked.

“Not really.”

“Well, until recently she’d been overworking herself trying to run her farm without her family. She shut herself off from her friends, didn’t take any time to relax, and nopony really tried to interfere.” I crossed my legs on the table and leant forward, asking, “Sound familiar? It’s the kind of problem nopony really sees, and nopony wants to ask for help. Me? I’m a meddler, I’m famous for it. I reached out, and when I saw the problem I helped her. Now Carrot’s got some help from Caramel, her farm is doing better than ever, she’s happier, and we’re best friends now.”

“But I’m not stressed out, I grew out of that.” Colgate brought a hoof to her chest. “I have friends like Lyra and Berry. I have a steady job and a home. My life is stable, there’s nothing to fix.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Colgate.” I gave her a sympathetic look. “You reached out to Caramel; maybe you were trying to fill a hole in your heart?” Colgate’s eyes wandered away from me. “I think you have one,” I offered, “though perhaps not the one you thought. Your life’s stable, you achieved your goals and now you’re asking yourself, ‘What now?’ You don’t feel satisfied.”

“Well, uh… maybe,” Colgate said unevenly.

“Colgate, you told me today that when you started at Celestia’s School, that you dreamed of being a magus – somepony who could use her skills for the greater good.”

Colgate nodded slowly and sighed as she echoed, “The greater good…”

“You’re not satisfied –” I leaned forward and whispered “– because ‘Colgate’ is what’s left of the crushed dreams you had as Minuette. You’re a dentist. It’s a job that was given to you as an apology when you wanted to be something else. Your flank says you have a gift for time magic, something you’ve been told you can’t have, but you’ve been resisting that for a while now, haven’t you?” Colgate nodded.

I rested my chin on my hooves. “If you want to use your skills, help other ponies, and perhaps see a bit of Equestria, then I’m the right time pony to help you do that.”

Colgate’s eyes widened, blinking a few times as she realized what I was offering her. “You want me to be your… apprentice?”

I brought both of my fore-hooves to my chest. “Do I look like a unicorn wizard? I was thinking something more like…” I spun a hoof around while I searched for the right word.

“A companion?” Colgate offered.

“I was thinking more ‘Junior Partner’,” I said off-hoof. “I’m ready for another adventure, but first.” I tapped the plate with the apology fudge. “I don’t think Colgate would eat this, but perhaps you want to be somepony else for a change?”

“It does look nice.” Colgate lit her horn and picked up the fudge. Spinning it around, Colgate looked at every angle and all the layers of chocolate. I tried encouraging her with a nod. Colgate’s eyes flicked to me, and then back to the fudge as she brought it under her nose to test the aroma. Finally she opened her mouth, steadied herself, and slowly bit off a sliver of chocolate from a corner.

Mouth shut, Colgate leaned back and savoured it on her tongue. A quick intake of breath was followed by a blissful moan, which inspired some jealousy on my side of the table. Colgate’s next bite was a much less subtle chunk, which she chewed on contentedly.

I waited, watching Colgate with my head lying on one hoof while my other hoof played with a coaster. The sight of Colgate’s chocolate covered mouth was strangely hypnotising, like watching a multispectral pegasus crash into a tree. A flash of white dazzled my eyes. Blinking the flash away, I wove a hoof in front of my eyes to see if they were alright.

As if summoned, a shadow fell over the table, followed by a pair of apple fritters being put down in front of us. Pinkie Pie grinned widely at me as she silently stepped back, the party pony refusing to spoil Colgate’s moment.

While Colgate was distracted, I started on my fritter. While an excellent example of the pastry, it was spoiled by a nagging thought that complained about how Future Time Turner had only ordered one plate of fudge.

Author's Note

For those who want a real time travel induced headache: What if Future Turner is Lying?
Follow italics for TL:DR’s.

A traveler can easily lie, but by doing so a traveler could render his trip entirely pointless. To explain: When a traveler arrives, the only thing you can be sure about is that they appeared and then did something. That’s been observed, it happened. The path to the point of return hasn’t, and can still change. If you want to be taken seriously by the past, you can’t lie. Otherwise the past will mistrust you and react differently, thereby taking different paths where future simply traveled back knowing that they’re lying.

You can’t help people predictably when you lie.

If you give specific instructions, you narrow down the future paths considerably, but that can stretch what could conceivably happen. Stretch too far, and suddenly the past will realize the prediction isn’t going to happen and the accurate prediction then becomes a lie. Which is basically the universe refusing to observe something and choosing another path, again rendering the effort time traveling worthless.

You don’t want to lie, so you don’t. Be too specific and you’re lying anyway.

However, if you’re vague, you provide room for the past to adjust and figure things out as time progresses. It also gives you the excuse to be annoyingly cryptic, which is fun.

So by being vague, you’re not lying – at least not directly – and you don’t force causality to make you a liar either.

Conclusion: time travel is vaguely helpful.

The Pony Everypony is Reading About

We woke up with the dawn. I knew the mayor well enough that I could guess the time she’d come down to check on our progress. She’s always punctual, arriving at precisely eight o’clock before spending a few minutes checking for any overnight packages, and getting a large cup of coffee. After that, the first thing she’d do is attend to anything left over from yesterday in chronological order.

As a pair of troublemakers still imprisoned with the Ponyville Drunk Tank, we’d be fairly high on that list.

To secure our freedom, Colgate and I had to become friends. We’d managed that. Mainly because I was trying extra hard to get on the good side of a pony that may eventually become capable of time travel, but we needed to convince the mayor that her plan had worked like a charm.

Plans rarely go exactly right, and if they do, then the planner may wonder if it was going too well. That was exactly the reaction I was looking for.

Ear against the wall and eyes on my watch, I waited for the mayor to open the Town Hall’s front door. At one minute, ten seconds past the hour, I heard the doors creak open. “She’s here.” Stepping down from off my bunk, I looked over to Colgate. “I didn’t see anything in her inbox, so she’ll have her morning coffee right away. Give it seven minutes, ten at most before she’d down here.”

Colgate nodded, using her magic to take hold off the mattresses, pillows, and bed sheets from both our bunks and placing them head to head in the centre of the room. “You really think this will work?” Colgate said as she laid herself down on her side.

“There’s a few ways to interpret this, and they all work in our favour.” I rolled myself up in my bed sheet and onto my mattress. Now we were head to head up against each other in the sort of formation that suggested we’d been up all night talking. “Remember, when she gets here, you have to ‘wake’ me up.”

“Right,” Colgate replied. Then we rolled over and pretended to be asleep.

Before long, the outer door’s lock clattered as the mayor came into the antechamber. Colgate’s sheets rustled and she reached over to tap me, hoarsely whispering, “Wake up, the mayor’s here.” I rolled over toward the mayor while still trying to sleep and scored bonus points by drooling on the pillow. Colgate responded by telling me to wake up again, tapping my neck a little harder.

Stirring, I rolled over to look up. Cutting off a yawn, I said, “Good morning, Colgate. Sleep well?”

“I did,” Colgate replied and then pointed toward the door. “The mayor’s here.”

Glancing over at the door I saw the mayor, neat and ready for the day. “Turner,” she called using a deliberately neutral tone. “Not up too late last night, I hope?”

“Mostly just talking,” I said as I stood up. “We can’t become friends just by sleeping together.” Colgate squeaked, and they mayor’s left eyebrow went up. Whoops. “Just talking together on the floor,” I hurriedly added, “From separate beds.”

The mayor’s gaze drifted to Colgate, and from the corner of my eye I could see Colgate trying to grin innocently with her perfect teeth. The mayor opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted when Colgate blurted out, “I’m still a virgin!”

The plan had been to convince the mayor that we’d become allies by overplaying the friendship card. Enough to convince her we weren’t arguing, and weren’t going to be a problem any longer. That would have worked better than telling her we were friends and then making her suspicious about the sudden overnight change. Better to give somepony a reason to be suspicious, then for them to think up one on their own.

But now we were trapped in an awkward silence. The mayor closed her eyes and hung her head, shaking it gently. On the other side of the outer doorway, two heads appeared as they looked around the corner with disguised interest.

“I was going to say,” the mayor began. “That I’d brought a couple of your friends so they could tell me if you had sorted your problem out, but obviously you’re both comfortable telling your secrets to each other.” The mayor turned to look back over her shoulder. “You can come through now.”

The pair waiting outside came in: first was Caramel with a smirk painted across his face, followed by Berry Punch, who seemed a little more mixed. Colgate brightened considerably, running over to the bars while saying, “Berry, it’s so good to see you.”

“Girl, remind me not to get you drunk,” Berry said as she reached through the bars to share a hug with Colgate. “You got some explaining to do. Especially what’s between you and ‘im,” she said with a nod over at me.

“Him has a name,” I called back. Strolling toward the bars where Caramel stood, I took note of his grin. “What’s got you looking all smug?”

“Just thinking how you did all this for me,” Caramel said. “You certainly know how to deal with a problem.” He shook his head with a grin. “I mean you helped break us up, but to chase her down like that. You totally got me a ticket to the Friend Zone.”

It took me a moment to process what he was saying. “Oh, Colgate, well yeah.”

Caramel nodded. “You should hear Carrot talk about it; she won’t shut up about how she thinks Colgate’s a bad influence on you.”

I snorted. “Bad influence on me?” I laughed. “Believe me, Caramel; I’m a really bad influence on her.”

“Well it’s all good,” Caramel said as he brought a hoof to his chest. “I’m fully satisfied. Mayor,” he said as he turned to look at the waiting bureaucrat. “I think they’re good to let out.”

The mayor nodded. “And you, Miss Punch?”

Berry looked back from where she and Colgate had begun to gossip. “Colgate’s happier than I’ve seen her in a while. The problem is totally solved.”

When the mayor looked back at me again, I said, “There’ll be some more therapy to do, but we’re good on this end.”

“I suppose that’s the best I could have hoped for,” the mayor said cautiously as she reached for the key. When the door unlocked, the pair of us on the inside made for the door, but the mayor stopped us with a raised hoof. “There’s one more matter, damages.”

My hoof was applied to my face. “Oh for the love of Luna. This is what we have insurance for, Mayor.”

The mayor shook her head. “We won’t have it for much longer if we keep claiming on it. The premiums are getting ridiculous, and the damage cost here is low enough that it’s better to sort this out on our own.”

A grim look crossed Colgate’s face as she asked, “How much?”

“Just over a thousand bits has been claimed all up,” the mayor admitted and Colgate winced. “Of course claims are always higher than the actual cost, but I don’t think anypony could talk the entire marketplace into a lower price.”

“Never offer the price you’d actually settle for,” I quoted and all the earth ponies in the room nodded in agreement.

Colgate was the only one who didn’t understand. Looking around at us she asked, “Am I missing something?”

I smiled. “That’s part seven of the Earth Pony Way: It’s why farmers will start at a higher price and make you bargain with them. Goes back to the old tribes, unicorns always tended to pay full price so everypony started doing it,” I explained. Colgate accepted it, but didn’t look like she was satisfied.

“Part five in my book,” Berry added.

I shrugged. “It always gets a little different after part three.” The various sayings passed down in earth pony families tended to vary based on a family’s own experiences and location. What was part seven for me might be four to a merchant, and conversely my four might be eleven for them.

Colgate’s eyebrows furrowed and she asked, “What’s part one?”

“When in doubt, buck it,” Everypony else replied at once.

Colgate withered a little. “Creepy.” Shutting her eyes, Colgate breathed in. “Alright, I’ll pay for the damages.”

The mayor was about to accept the offer when I interrupted her saying, “I’ll pay half.” Everypony paused to look at me. “Just sharing the bill, it’s not like I’m paying for all of it.”

The mayor stepped aside. “Alright, you’re free to go.”

Colgate and I both moved forward. Then realizing we’d bump into each other going through the door, I let her go first. “Thank you,” she said as she went out to where Berry was waiting for her.

“Come on, Colgate,” Berry said. “We’ve got a lot to talk about.” Taking Berry’s suggestion, Colgate went out the outer door. Berry paused for a second to look back at me, before following her friend out.

Caramel shook his head. “You know, Berry didn’t even speak to me while we were out there. I get the feeling she doesn’t like me.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Probably blames you for that thing Colgate had for you, and the break up.”

A solemn look passed over Caramel’s face before he cheered up saying, “Hey at least she’ll soon be putting that energy into disliking you.”

Rolling my eyes, I agreed. “Still, that won’t last much longer anyway. The war’s over.”

“Sure it will,” Caramel replied with a smug smile. I frowned back, while trying to figure out what he meant.

Before I could ask, the mayor spoke up. “Time Turner…”

I turned to face her, asking, “Yes, Mayor?”

“I thought I should mention that the Town Clock was running five minutes behind schedule this morning.”

Bringing a hoof up to rub my forehead and muttered, “I swear I’m going to melt those damn pendulums down. Don’t worry, Mayor, I’ll deal with it now.”

“Cool,” Caramel said, “I’ll just head back out to Carrot’s patch and find out what she wants done today.”

“Tell her I said ‘Hi’.”

“I will,” Caramel said as he went out the door.

“Mayor,” I asked, “Before I get going, how much budget is there in the town’s coffers for fixing the fault in the clock?”

She shook her head. “We’re practically running over budget as is, Turner. If you can, do it as cheap as possible or for free if you can manage it.”

“Noted,” I said. “Problem is that we may have to rebuild parts of the mechanism to do it properly.”

The mayor almost looked horrified. “That’ll be far too much, just find a way to patch it. If somepony wants to replace it, they’ll just have to wait until we have the budget for it.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Well I don’t see anything.” The mechanism of the clock tower remained as difficult as ever. I’d even replicated the thing on a smaller scale and it’d worked perfectly as a wall clock. If I could stop the pendulums knocking their balance off as they passed each other, then it’d be fine.

Of course the modifications needed to do that were beyond what the town could afford. Unbalance or modify parts, and you’ll have to account for it elsewhere – effectively forcing you to redo the entire thing.

Clocks are of course the definition of what accurate is supposed to be.

I did my usual bit of regular maintenance: bucking the pendulums back up to full tilt, and correcting the time on the clock face. Ponies might think that would involve getting a pegasus to give the handles a push, but actually a much safer internal gear arrangement is used to bring it back to the right time.

“Turner, are you in here?” a voice echoed up the tower.

“Be down in a minute,” I called back down. I reengaged the clutch on the outside clock face – the one facing the forest – and started on my way down the ramp that spiralled around edge of the internal void.

My guest hadn’t wanted to wait, and met me halfway up the tower. “Goldie?” Carrot Top didn’t look too pleased to see me, and a roll of paper poked out the flap of her saddlebag.

“Turner, would you like to explain this?” Carrot Top reached back and pulled the roll of paper out of her bag and unfurled it for me to see.

The Foal Free Press

Dentist’s Secret Love Affair with Chocolate

Yesterday our photographer took this image of Colgate the Dentist eating what Pinkie Pie calls Quad-Choc Fudge. Colgate loves telling Ponyville’s fillies and colts to not to eat chocolate, often blaming tooth damage on the treat. This didn’t stop her eating the chocolate the brown colt got her though.

Your reporter: Gabby Gums.

The accompanying image was from my trip with Colgate out of the Drunk Tank last night. Colgate had a mouthful of fudge, while I was staring wistfully at the chocolate dessert. Unfortunately the low quality newspaper photo didn’t show me in the context of wishing for some of the fudge, instead it looked like I was staring at Colgate herself in an almost romantic fashion. Weirdly enough, the text of the article was more concerned about Colgate’s hypocrisy than what my intentions were.

“Welcome to the list, Gabby,” I murmured under my breath.

“Well?” Carrot asked. She was calm, but with her head slightly tilted to the left as she watched me carefully. The sort of look from a mare that suggests the next few words out of my mouth would decide whether or not I’d be taking a shortcut down to the base of the tower.

Quickly considering my approach, I ventured, “I wasn’t taking advantage of her.” Quietly though, I was preparing a time turn.

Carrot’s head tilted a little more. “Go on.”

“Well, uh…” Looking back, I saw Carrot blink stoically. “I’m trying to help Colgate with her problems. Part of it is learning to let go, and I was starting with her dental obsession by giving her chocolate.” After another moment I added, “I’m just trying to fix her, like I fixed you.”

“Yes, you did,” Carrot said flatly. “And what are you doing in this picture?”

“Wishing that I ordered a second plate of fudge for myself. Even if it did cost me thirty or so bits,” I grumbled to myself.

“Well now the entire town thinks you’re in love with Colgate.”

I blinked. “Isn’t this the school newspaper? Nopony reads this.”

“Oh no,” Carrot said seriously. “Everypony reads Gabby Gums, hoping to read their friend’s secrets, or just to find out if they’ve being outed next. It’s the latest thing.”

I hummed in thought. “It explains why Caramel thought I’d permanently solved his Colgate worries.”

“Yes he told me you’d be up here.” Carrot looked out into the void beside us where the dual pendulums jousted past each other. She didn’t say anything for a few moments as she watched the mechanism move. “Those look... interesting.”

I snorted. “It’s annoying is what it is. See how they rattle as they pass?”

“I do.” Carrot looked over at me, a question on her face.

“It’s caused by the air they push aside. It costs the clock a fraction of a second each time, and it builds up to minutes over a few days.” I sighed. “I need to stop them doing that, but nopony has the tools around here to reforge the pendulums.”

Carrot hummed in thought a moment. “Can’t you put some glass up between them or something?”

“Well…” That wasn’t actually a bad idea. “It’s a bit expensive for the moment. So we’d need something cheaper to start with.”

“Plywood then,” Carrot offered. “It’s cheap, strong, and thin enough that it won’t get in the way of the pendulums.”

“Doable, it won’t look nice, but nopony really comes up in here.”

“That’s a shame,” Carrot said. “Because they look so majestic swinging together.” The hypnotising effect cost Carrot her balance and she stepped sideways toward me for support. We stood there for a time, Carrot leaning against me while I tried to guess how much plywood we’d need, and where to mount it. Later we might be able to use the plywood to mould a glass window as well. It was indeed a shame we couldn’t use glass to put giant windows into the tower so the pendulums could be seen from a distance. Whoever built this went to a lot of trouble to create a good looking set of weights, only to seal them away.

“You know, Turner,” Carrot said to me. “You should make me a clock like this one.”

“The tower would probably take up too much space,” I quipped.

Carrot leant her head back to look into my eye. “At least I could see it from anywhere on my farm.”

“And from the market too, I’d wager,” I replied.

Carrot smiled. “It’d let me think of you while serving customers.”

My eyebrows went up. “Careful, Goldie, I might start thinking that you’re trying to hit on me.”

She responded by jabbing me lightly in the ribs. “Trying?”

“Alright,” I said while holding up a hoof. “I’ll make you a watch. You’ll be able to get the time off that, and you won’t lose a field to a clock tower.”

“A watch doesn’t have a pair of pendulums dancing together,” she objected.

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve got a smaller version of this on my bench at home. I’ll fix it up a bit, make it look nice, and—” Carrot cut me off by wrapping a foreleg around my neck and dragging me down into a kiss. It came as a bit of a surprise, I’d been thinking of Carrot as more of a friend for a while.

After a few more swings of the pendulums, Carrot finally let me go. I gave her a questioning look, and she smiled back while brushing her mane back. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while, and well I…” Her eyes wandered. “I’ve spent so much time just waiting and sometimes, you know, you worry something might slip away, or something…”

Reading between the lines, I asked, “You’re worried I might slip away?”

Carrot looked around, her mouth doing a fish impression. Eventually a sentence formed, “That you might leave me behind, alone. Uh,” she uttered as she ran a hoof through her thick curly mane. “It’s just that you stepped into my life, and made everything better.”

“I’m not going to just step out of it,” I reassured her. Taking her by the shoulders I continued, “I might fade into the background occasionally, or I might go traveling for a while, but I’ll come back because you’re one of my best friends, Golden Harvest.” Using her oft unused name caused Carrot to draw in a breath. “You don’t need to clamp down on me because you’re afraid.”

“I’m not just afraid, I rather like you, like, really like…” She blinked. “Buck it.” With the first part invoked, she reached around my neck for balance and pulled herself into another kiss. This one was a much better experience, and more mutual. I shifted my stance around to help lift her up and soon I was looking up at her, with her mane hanging down around us.

Soon the second kiss ended as it wound down into a hug. “Thank you,” she said, “for everything.”

“Isn’t kindness its own reward?” I said as I helped her down.

“Well,” she said with a grin. “Always return the favour.”

Gotta love number four. “I always try to, fixing somepony else’s problems can help fix yours; plus you always feel good after. It’s basically my life philosophy.”

“Yeah,” Carrot said as she rocked back and forth on her hooves. “I actually feel like I just unhitched myself from a wagon.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I feel like baking something. Something sweet.”

“Goldie?”

“Something golden,” Carrot nodded to herself. “Turner, could you go to the market and find some golden syrup? Or maple?”

“What for?”

“I’m going to make my grandmother’s Golden Carrot Cake recipe. She named it after me,” Carrot said with a wistful smile. “Noi and I used to make it all the time, and I’m in a really good mood.”

“I suppose…” Looking around, there wasn’t much else to do. I’d have to get somepony up here to do some woodwork, probably Mac if he can spare a few hours from his farm.

“Great, bring it over this afternoon.” Carrot started down the ramp and called back over her shoulder, “I’m going to get some fresh carrots ready. See you soon!” Then she went out the archway with a definite skip in her step.

I guess this is happening then. It had been a while since I’d seriously considered whether or not there’d be something more to my friendship with Carrot Top. The photo in the paper, as misleading as it was, must have pushed her into it. I’ll have to keep an open mind on this, and figure out if she’s got any doubts. If not, then… well she is one of my best friends, that’s got to be a good foundation for a relationship.

Having given Carrot enough time to put some distance between us, I started down the clock tower and onward to Ponyville. The town itself crossed into my thoughts: originally Ponyville had simply been a refuge, a place to lay low before starting to adventure around Equestria again. Yet here we are years later and I find I’m comfortable here.

Pretty soon I was thinking about what Carrot Top and the town itself could mean for me long term. Carrot’s farm house, the spare bedrooms, the fields of vegetables, and how terrible I was at farming. Farming was, more or less, in my blood, though it was more wheat and less carrot. Those thoughts started carrying to the inevitable result and the way that would tie me down. How long would it be before the adventures I used to go on would become something I just did, ‘In my youth’ or, ‘Back in my day’?

A part of my mind rebelled at the thought, and turned me down another path: namely that I’d promised to take Colgate on an adventure or two so she could learn from those experiences like I did. From those comforting thoughts I came to a conclusion, I don’t think I’m done just yet.

Walking into Ponyville’s market a day or so after helping to demolish it was an interesting experience. Eyes followed me, wondering if I’d start chasing another random mare – presumably before giving her chocolate fudge. A few of the ponies who’d lost product, or been introduced to it, because of the chase, also gave me the evil eye.

I finally found a merchant selling golden syrup in tins, along with other tin can preserved goods. She looked at me strangely as I asked for a tin. “You do sell golden syrup, right?” I asked.

She pointed at me with a hoof. “Aren’t you the colt who busted through here a few days back?”

“Yeah, that was me. I was in ‘hot pursuit’,” I admitted with the necessary air quotes. “I had to chase her down. It was important.”

“Uh huh, important,” the merchant muttered. She reached under her counter and produced a copy of the school newspaper, which she dumped on the counter. A quick flick of her hoof opened the page to Colgate and me. “Looks like you scored a date,” she added.

“Not a date, but it was important,” I reiterated.

“Well your marefriend threw a whole bunch of my cans across the way.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure they’re fine. What’s a dent to a tin anyway?” Looking around I pointed out one can with a dent in the side. “Look at that, you’re still selling it.”

“Damaged goods lose value,” she countered.

Narrowing my eyes, I argued back saying, “At least you can get value from it. Now,” I eased my tone down, “I’d like a tin of golden syrup.”

“Alright,” she said testily and reached behind the counter again. A tin can with a long dent was put on the counter. “Eight bits.”

The deep dent was the kind you’d expect from something that had been hit with a bat. “What in Equestria did that?”

“Your marefriend.” She spun the tin around with her hoof. “She threw this can across the street and knocked Azalea out,” she said with a nod at something behind me.

Considering the tin, I looked back over my shoulder at the stall across the street. Azalea, a pegasus with an unusual talent in flowers, sat among her produce while waiting for a customer. Something tweaked at the back of my mind and I checked the dent in the tin again. “This can’t have knocked her out. The dent’s the wrong shape.” I pointed out the long line at the deep part of the dent. “The only part of a pony that could do this shape would be a unicorn’s horn, and Azalea’s a pegasus. You can’t guilt me with that fib, five bits.”

“Five bits?” the merchant scoffed. “I’d be making a loss.”

“It’s damaged,” I countered. “You just said you can’t sell a damaged tin at full price.”

“Seven bits then,” she offered.

I silently folded my forelegs on her counter, unmoved.

“Alright,” she said with upheld hooves. “Six bits, and I’m throwing me own shoe here.”

“Fine,” I grumbled and paid the mare. The dented can of syrup ended up in my saddlebag.

I was about to set off again when I chanced a glance back at Azalea’s stand. She didn’t have any customers, and was sitting expectantly for one. Thinking back, I may have galloped through her stall as I used it for cover against Colgate’s barrage. I made to set off again a few times before giving in, damn my good nature.

Azalea jolted out of her daze as I walked up to her counter. “Hello, Azalea,” I said amicably. “Can I get bouquet of flowers?”

“Sure, what would you like?” She asked as she stood up.

“Something that looks nice, I suppose.” I had no idea what to get, better to leave the selection of flowers to somepony who had a mark for it.

The flower inclined mare thought for a moment, looked back at me, and then grinned. “Are they for somepony special?”

My shoulders slumped down with a sigh. “You’ve read the Gabby Gums column, haven’t you?” She nodded. “Then whatever works.”

“Hey, bud. You getting flowers for somepony?” asked a familiar voice.

“Oh hey, Thunderlane, It’s—whoa!” I caught sight of Lane’s wings. They looked like weird sausages with thirty or so black toothpicks poking out of them. There weren’t many normal feathers still left in his wings.

“Yeah,” Lane shrugged his mutilated wings out to show me the damage. “They’re all blood-feathers too. Believe me, bud, it’s hard sleeping with these, ‘cause they sting whenever ya touch ‘em too hard. Can’t break ‘em either, or they’ll bleed and take ages to come back a—” Lane was caught out by a cough. “Worst’s past, and I’m not gonna spread the flu, but I still feel like my cloud’s been bucked.”

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” I asked.

“Gotta buy more food,” Lane said, revealing his own set of saddlebags under his wings. “Growing a full set of feathers really takes it out of you. I’m eating constantly to keep up. I need to do the shopping because Banana’s stuck in bed with the flu.”

I winced. “She okay?”

“She’ll be fine.” Lane stopped to cough up something, before swallowing it again. “She still cooks, and I’ll tell ya that she can make some fiery stuff, the only stuff I can taste right now.” He brought a hoof to his chin. “Though, we have managed to clean out her spice rack.”

“How long until you can fly again?” I asked.

“It’ll be days before I can preen these,” Lane said with a nod at his fresh batch of feathers. “Once they grow in, there’ll be more. I won’t be flying till all my primaries are back.” He gave his wings a flap. “Call it a week, maybe.”

“Mr Turner?” I turned to face the speaker, Azalea held a bouquet of pink and white flowers in her hooves. “Would these be satisfactory?”

“They’ll do,” I said with a nod.

“Five bits,” she offered. I paid the price without argument, and carefully put the flowers into my bags so they’d still get some light by hanging out of the flap.

“Hey, Azalea,” Lane spoke up. “Can I get a bunch as well?”

“Sure,” she said and turned back to her stock.

“Have to get something for Banana,” Lane explained. “She’s been really awesome about letting me stay until I can fly up home again.”

“And that you infected her in the first place,” I added. Feather Flu is notorious among pegasi, but that doesn’t mean it won’t hit other ponies just as hard – sans feather loss, naturally.

Lane’s eyes widened. “Good point. Azalea, can you make it a big bunch?”

“That’ll be a few bits more,” she said back as she started adding more flowers.

Lane didn’t hesitate to say, “I’ll pay it.”

“Speaking of paying for things,” I began. “Lane, while I was looking after your brother, he convinced me to sign you up for the Wonderbolts Academy.”

Lane’s ears shot bolt upright, and his wings twitched. “You got me into the Academy?”

I shrugged. “Well, Spitfire was giving forms out, and it’s just their initial bit-grab, so you’re on the list at least.”

Lane leaned toward me, nose down and looking right into my eyes. “But I’m in?”

Leaning away from Lane, I said, “They haven’t sent me the bill yet, but the money’s been offered. As long as they get pay-dirt, they’ll take you.”

“Yes!” Thunderlane leapt into the air, wings reaching to take him skyward in celebration. Without proper feathers however, all he managed was a short jump before stumbling down the ground on an unexpected landing.

I helped Lane back to his hooves. “Careful, Lane, you’re not ready to impress Spitfire just yet, save it for the academy.”

“Yeah,” Lane spluttered with a cough. “Gotta get to ten wing-power first.”

“Mr Thunderlane,” Azalea interrupted while holding a bouquet of her namesake. “Your flowers are ready.”

“Cool, how much?”

“Seven bits,” she replied. Lane produced the money and added the flowers to his own bag. Azalea eyed Lane’s wings and winced as she gave her own set a flap. “Also, good luck with the wings, I know how that feels.” A moment later she added, “Don’t eat the flowers either, they don’t really agree with a pony’s digestive system.”

“Wouldn’t do that,” Lane replied. Though I suspected he was lying. “Speaking of food… Turner, why don’t we go get something? I’m starving.”

My eyes wandered toward the clock tower’s face – it was still accurate enough for now. “Twelve forty-eight, sounds like lunch to me.”

“Somepony around here has to have something,” Lane said while checking the nearby vendors.

“How about over there?” I nodded up the street to where a sitting area was laid out with a couple of stalls nearby.

“Sweet,” Lane said as he set off at a rapid trot. Following Lane, I found that of the two stalls, one was selling donuts and coffee, while the other was Bon Bon’s sweet stand with Lyra behind the counter. Lyra was serving Cloud Kicker, who was out and about with Ditzy and Dinky. It seemed Future Turner’s prediction was still holding.

Lane veered toward Lyra’s stand and we passed the two love birds as they walked away. Cloud looked chastened about something, Dinky was stuffing her face with chocolate, and I shared a nod with Ditzy as we passed.

“Spoiling Dinky are we, Lyra?” I said as we walked up.

Lyra grimaced. “A bit.”

“Careful,” I warned, “give that filly a hoof and she’ll take a furlong.”

“Or a box,” Lyra muttered before perking up. “Well, what can I get you two boys?” But before either of us could say anything Lyra gasped. “Are those flowers?” Lane and I shared glances at each other’s bags, we both had flower bouquets sticking out of the flaps. “Who are they for?” Lyra pressed.

I blinked. “Uh, Carrot Top, I guess.”

“Banana Fluff,” Lane said unevenly.

“I’ve got just what you need,” Lyra said as she stuck her head down behind the counter, lighting her horn. A pair of heart shaped boxes landed on the counter in front of us. Lyra opened them to give us a look. “Bon Bon’s variety boxes, they’re awesome.” She closed them again and wrapped them in ribbon. “Thirty bits each.”

Caught completely off guard, I reacted with earth pony instincts to say, “Fifteen.”

“Twenty, and done,” Lyra steamrolled over us with a massive grin on her face.

Thunderlane and I shuffled around and paid for the boxes before adding them to our bags alongside the other things we’d bought for our respective mares. “See you next time,” Lyra said with a parting wave as we walked away.

“Bud,” Lane asked, “did that just happen?”

“Yes, Lane, I think it did.”

We moved slowly over to the sitting area and took seats facing each other on opposite benches. I found myself wondering how I’d managed to turn myself into coltfriend material so quickly and seemingly against my will. Perhaps subconsciously, I really want to do that sort of thing.

After a few moments of thinking, my bench shook as somepony sat down next to me. “So who are the flowers for?”

“Carrot Top,” I offered reflexively as I turned to look.

Colgate smiled back at me. “Good, I was beginning to get worried.” Yet another copy of the Foal Free Press floated in to view.

“I’m really starting to dislike that newspaper,” I grumbled.

Colgate giggled. “You’re not the only one, Berry’s been grousing about it all morning.” She nodded across at Thunderlane’s bench where Berry sat, grumpily looking in our direction. “Doesn’t stop her reading it, we were sitting just over there.” Colgate nodded to an empty pair of benches.

“You seem awfully chipper about it,” I said.

“Well, I was a little outraged at first,” she explained. “But I’m trying to see the fun in it. It proves what I’m telling all the kids is starting to get through to them, if they’re remembering it like this.”

“So you’re enjoying your release then?”

Colgate’s smile turned into a grin with a touch of laughter. “Honestly, I haven’t felt this good in ages. It’s like this dark cloud sitting at the back of my mind has disappeared. I don’t need to worry about my magic anymore, because you’re backing me up.” She elbowed me in the side. “No more nagging worry. And even better, because we were arrested, the dentistry shifted all my appointments because they didn’t know when I’d be back. Since my schedule was clear, I’ve decided to take a vacation.”

I smiled as well at the news. “Good to hear it’s starting to work out for you. A vacation’s a good idea, Colgate, you’ve been stressed for a while and you deserve it.”

She shrugged “I don’t really know what to do; I’ve never taken a vacation before.” Her smile became sheepish. “I was also wondering, you said I should join you on an adventure sometime. Since I’m on vacation, could we schedule it for sooner, rather than later?”

I snorted my way into laughter. “Colgate, adventure isn’t something you can schedule. You either go find it, or it finds you, and you can never be sure when.”

“Could we go find it then?” Colgate asked, the eagerness behind the question was rather refreshing.

“Soon, I suppose. In fact, I’ve got the sneaking suspicion it might find us.” It had been a few weeks since Future Turner had hinted about an adventure that would be coming up soon, and Siren did mention that strange things had been happening around Equestria. Colgate gave me a questioning look. “I’m hearing rumours,” I explained. “But there’s something else you could help me with in the meantime.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I’m making a clock for Carrot Top,” I said, “but I also want to make her a watch. Problem is, that the parts are too small for me to deal with, so I usually have to find a unicorn to help me. How’s your fine control when using your magic?”

“Excellent,” she didn’t hesitate to say. “It has to be when I’m using a drill.” That was comforting to say the least.

“Great, could I get your help with that tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she replied.

I nodded in thanks. “While we’re at it, we might as well do a second one for you too.”

“Really?” Colgate blinked. “Watches are really expensive. You could sell one for over a hundred bits in Canterlot.”

“True, but for me it’s just a bit of brass and the time and effort in assembling it.” I shrugged. “It’s also a way to pay you back for helping me with the other watch.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to offer it,” Colgate said. She looked over at the other bench, where Berry Punch was waiting and Lane was devouring a couple of doughnuts. “I think Berry’s getting impatient.” Colgate stood up. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Turner.”

The two mares left as I made my way over to the coffee stall to buy a doughnut before Lane could buy all the good ones. Sure enough, Lane was right behind me. “So, how was Colgate?” he asked with smugness laced through his voice.

“She’s doing well,” I replied before looking to the colt behind the coffee stand counter. “Jam doughnut with a regular coffee.” The colt nodded, and started filling the order. I looked around for a price list and found it alongside the notice stating: ‘Do Not Sell to This Pony’, with a grinning picture of Pinkie Pie beneath it.

‘The Incident’ and its sequels had pushed up Ponyville’s insurance premiums and forced the mayor to ban Pinkie from accessing anything with a reasonable level of caffeine in it. I certainly wasn’t keen on being on the clean-up crew for another one, because there’s only so much helium impregnated custard you can deal with.

You’d think Pinkie wouldn’t drink something as bitter as coffee, but then taste is always a secondary concern when most ponies start drinking it for the caffeine boost. Appreciation for the coffee flavour itself comes with experience.

“So,” Lane said conspiratorially, “you’re not trying to herd two mares at once are you?”

I gave Lane a withering look back. “Why is it that everypony assumes I’m in some form of relationship? That I must be secretly dating Colgate, Ditzy, or even Rose?” Considering that Roseluck is normally the source of those rumours, I’d have to ask her.

“Dunno,” Lane said with a shrug. “But ‘there’s no smoke without fire’.”

“Uh-huh, ‘correlation does not imply causation,” I countered with my superior quote-fu. “So what I have friends? That does not mean I have romantic feelings, nor does it mean I’m going to develop them.”

“Dude, chill,” Lane said as he gave me a pat on the back. “You didget flowers and chocolates.”

“Yeah, alright.” While using a fetlock to rub my forehead, I added, “Carrot Top’s interested in giving that extra step a try. We decided to think first before taking it, but Carrot seems to have decided.”

“I guess I owe Mac a keg of cider then,” Thunderlane said off hoof. I blinked and shot him a questioning look and he elaborated, “Mac guessed Carrot Top might develop a thing for you, and I bet against him.” He rolled his eyes. “Could’a sworn you were more Colgate’s type, but Gabby Gums has it wrong.”

I frowned as I retrieved my freshly made cup of coffee from the vendor. “I swear, when I find that Gabby Gums…”

After parting ways with Thunderlane, I made my way out to Carrot’s farm with my purchases. Passing by Sweet Apple Acres, I noticed Mac working in a field by the road. We nodded at each other, and Mac grinned when he saw the flowers in my bag.

Carrot Top wasn’t out in the fields when I arrived, neither was Caramel, and when I knocked on her front door it was Noi who answered it. “Hey, Mr Turner,” she chirruped.

“Hello, Noi, is your sister around?” I asked.

Noi’s eyes flicked to my saddlebags before she nodded. “Harvey’s upstairs going through big sister’s things. I can go get her.”

“Sure,” I said with a shrug.

Noi shot off with filly like speed toward and up the stairs, calling, “Sis, Mr Turner’s here, and he brought you flowers!” I found myself regretting that purchase again. The rattle of Noi’s hooves eventually reached one of the loft rooms and there was a hushed conversation. Noi came back down and across the ground floor to say, “Come in, Mr Turner, Harvey will be down in a sec.”

Stepping over the threshold, I noticed Carrot’s house had changed a little since Noi had come to stay. A few toys left out in the sitting area, a book or two, the wood oven in the kitchen area was warm, and everything just seemed more lived in.

I put my bags down on the dining table just in time to hear hoof-steps reach the top of the stairs above me. Then I caught sight of Carrot Top slowly making her way down the stairs, her mane seemed longer and curlier than ever, her coat shone, and her every step was the measured use of the well-toned muscles that only an earth pony farmer can get. A portion of my mind reacted very positively to this.

Carrot had once mentioned that her older sister had run away to become a film star in Applewood. If her big sis looked as nice as Carrot did after dipping into the cosmetic collection, then she had to be famous by now.

“Time Turner,” she said with a smile as she walked forward to pull me into a hug. My face was covered by her mane, and when I breathed in the smell was almost euphoric. Carrot’s big sis must have good taste in perfume. “It’s good to see you,” she said into my ear.

“I saw you four hours ago,” I replied, and Carrot stepped back. My eyes flicked to her flank and back. “What did you do to yourself since then?”

“Nothing,” she lied, judging by the smile. Carrot looked toward my bags on the table. “Are those flowers for me?” she asked with a bit of a grin.

“Well, I was in the market to get the golden syrup you wanted, and I bought them as a way to apologise to Azalea for charging through her store earlier.” I shrugged. “Of course you can have them if you want.”

“Noi,” Carrot called, “Could you fill a vase up please?”

“Uh, just a minute, sis,” Noi called back as she went into the kitchen area.

“That was very nice of you, Turner,” Carrot said as she reached out to take the flowers in her mouth. She pulled at the bouquet, but the angle tipped my bag toward her. Then Carrot gasped, dropping the flowers when she noticed what was inside. She took the heart shaped box out of the bag, put it down between us and said, “You got me chocolates as well?”

“Lyra basically forced them on me,” I said to justify myself. “But they are for you.”

Carrot glanced over my shoulder toward the kitchen, then pecked me on the cheek. “We’d better go help Noi find a vase.” Carrot picked up the flowers while I took my bags and we walked around the island counter into the enclosed kitchen area where Noi was out of sight. We found the filly digging through a cupboard.

After pulling out a few pots, Noi sat back on her haunches and grumbled, “I can’t find a vase.”

“I’ll find one in a minute, Noi,” Carrot reassured her. “You can help me make dinner instead.”

Noi brightened while I glanced toward Carrot. “Offering dinner already, Goldie?”

“It takes time to make something properly.” She smiled at me, “Got to start early.”

I glanced out a window at the clock tower. “It’s a few hours until dinner time.” Looking back, I asked, “What are you planning?”

“Just some of my famous plough-pony’s pie,” she said with a smile. It certainly caught my interest, Big Mac had told me once that Carrot made a very good pie.

Noi squealed in delight, dancing on her hooves. “Yes, my favourite! What do you want me to do?”

Carrot hummed, bringing a hoof to her mouth in thought. “Why don’t you make a salad, Noi?”

“Right away!” she said with a salute. Then she ran over to a corner of the kitchen to get a rolling stool, and took it over to the fridge.

I gave Carrot a questioning look and she said, “It helps her reach the countertop.” After grabbing a few leafy greens, Noi shifted her stool over to the island counter where she’d be out of the way. When she jumped onto the stool, her weight was enough to push it down so the base of the stool touched the ground and stopped it rolling away. I figured there was some arrangement of springs involved.

“She’s eager,” I credited to Noi as she started cutting up vegetables.

“We always cook together,” Carrot said, a fond smile crossing her face as she pulled pots and pans out of cupboards. “And she’s always experimenting as well. You’d almost think she had a cutie mark in it.”

I glanced back over my shoulder at Noi’s flank. “Not really, but since when did a mark define everything about somepony? Sure my hourglass is a dead giveaway about what I do, and your mark’s spot on about your carrot patch, but we also do other things.” I tapped a pan. “You cook a lot of excellent food…”

“Using carrots,” she added.

“…and carrots aren’t the only thing you farm. You’ve got…” my mind came up blank and I looked out the window. “…mixed vegetables.” My shoulders slumped down. “I don’t even know where I was going with this speech.”

Carrot Top gave me a consoling smile, and leant over to nuzzle me saying, “Your hourglass isn’t what makes you such a wonderful friend, and it doesn’t show how you’ve helped ponies everywhere.”

Yeah, it doesn’t, I noted to myself sarcastically. Though few would ever know how much my hourglass has done to ‘help ponies everywhere’, me especially. I doubt I would have made it into my second decade without my Time Turn. Far too many close calls were littered up and down my past.

Snapping back to reality, I noticed Carrot’s nuzzle was slowing down and she was looking at me with a bit of concern. It generally helps to return emotion rather than standing shock still with a blank expression on your face.

I smiled back at her. “I suppose there’s something to be said for sparing time for other ponies.”

She grinned back at me. “Can’t say I want to.”

It wasn’t long before Carrot had a pie in the oven. I was mostly useless during the process, considering my cooking skill was limited to X plus Y plus fire. Noi finished her salad long before we did, taking it over the table to wait for us.

Poor Noi would have been bored out of her skull since we never talked about anything she’d be interested in, like: school politics, the latest Sapphire Shores hit, and toys. At least that’s what I think she’d be interested in. She certainly wasn’t interested in talking about the other ponies in town or the clock she’d asked for.

While we talked, Carrot started on her special cake recipe. It was huge, a whole bag of flour and the entire tin of golden syrup went into making it. I was set mixing while Carrot cut up carrots, walnuts, and other things to add to the mix. When it was done I figured we’d have to have dinner first because there was no way to fit it in the oven with the pie.

Carrot sniffed at the air around the oven, and declared, “It’s done.” While she got it out, I was thinking about how many ponies in town would want timers instead of just guessing if their food was ready. The mechanism would be small like a watch’s, so it was another thing I’d need Colgate’s help with.

Carrot carried the pie pan over to the dining table while I carried the plates. Strangely, Noi didn’t seemed too thrilled to see dinner arrive. She also seemed a little greener than normal.

Carrot noticed immediately, she plonked the pie down and looked at my bags beside her. “Noi, did you eat my chocolates?”

She nodded back weakly. “My tummy hurts.” She had her forelegs wrapped around her lower barrel and she winced.

“Turner,” she said aloud without looking away from her sister, “get a bowl for Noi, one of the big mixing ones.” I nipped back into the kitchen and went through a few cupboards while Carrot tried to comfort Noi.

The bowl was plonked down in front of Noi, and Carrot helped her lean over it. A universal truth with nausea is that if something you ate doesn’t want to stay down, then it’s probably better to get it out anyway. Though I wouldn’t have thought that anything Bon Bon made would cause this sort of reaction.

I slid the heart shaped box toward me and flipped the lid off. A selection of candy lay within, but only three pieces were missing – the milk chocolate ones. It wasn’t like she’d made her way through half the box. I was missing something.

The bags, the chocolates, the pie cooling on the table, the salad, looking around I tried to think, while Carrot tried to get Noi to drink a cup of water. Something sparked, and I realized something: there wasn’t a vase of flowers on the table. We’d forgotten it, and the flowers were missing as well, until I noticed one sitting on top of the salad.

I remembered Azalea telling Thunderlane earlier: “Don’t eat the flowers either, they don’t really agree with a pony’s digestive system.” And when it comes to plants, if we can’t stomach it, it’s usually very bad; probably worse for a little filly.

“Noi, did you eat any of these flowers?” I asked as I pointed to the one in the salad bowl.

She nodded weakly. “It tasted kinda funny,” she said – also not a good sign.

I looked at Carrot. “I’m taking her to the hospital.” Before she could ask, I knelt down below Noi. “Do you think you can hold onto my neck?” She nodded.

“What’s wrong with her?” Carrot gasped.

“She ate some of the flowers I got you, they might be poisonous,” I mentioned as I gently helped Noi onto my back.

Carrot blinked. “Who would sell poisonous flowers?”

“Shampoo’s poisonous if you drink it,” I replied, “Azalea warned me, but Noi didn’t know that.” Standing up again, I quickly shifted my weight around. “You holding on, Noi?” I saw her nod out the corner of my eye and didn’t waste any time heading out the door.

Outside, I barely waited for Carrot to catch up before I charged out into the evening air, slid around a corner and onto the main road into town at full gallop. The Ponyville Hospital, a regional health hub, was on the other side of town from Carrot’s farm.

There weren’t many ponies out an about at this time, so I was able to keep my speed up as barrelled down Stirrup Street. Noi gurgled behind me, the rough urgency of our trip getting to her or the poison progressing. I hoped it was the former.

Noi barely managed to keep her hold, and the extra weight nearly toppled me as I cornered again at full speed. As it was, I nearly ran into somepony. Saddle Street was crowded. The reason every other street was so clear was that Pinkie was hosting a street party, again.

As we came closer to the party, I started to weave my way through more ponies. I dodged my way around Sassaflash, cut off Cheerilee as she made her way to the muffin table, and bounced off Mac. I’m not even sure Big Mac noticed as I stumbled away from him, the forward momentum I’d built up the only thing that kept me on my hooves.

The next obstacle was the food table, and I was still going too fast to avoid it. Rather than crash spectacularly into it – and ruin the party – I went for a clear spot near the punch bowl and hurdled over the trestle table. Once in the air, I beat my rear hooves down against the table surface to boost me forward again and clipped the punch bowl. Unfortunately, I’d figured wrong when I thought the punch bowl’s area was clear, I just couldn’t see Berry Punch through the identically coloured punch.

Thankfully, Berry had the presence of mind to duck her head as I passed, bouncing off her back and into a clearer section of street. I shot a glance over my shoulder and very briefly noticed that the punch bowl had ended up on Berry’s head. I’ll probably pay for that later.

All the excitement didn’t help Noi, and I heard a faint retching sound from my passenger. Then unbelievably, Pinkie Pie was beside me. “Just in time, Turner,” she giggled as she kept pace with me. A louder retch got my attention: Noi had thrown up the contents of her tummy into a conveniently placed bowl on Pinkie’s back. Then just as suddenly, Pinkie stopped chasing and waved back as us she receded into the distance. I supposed that dealing with sick ponies was just part of the Party Pony Package.

“Better out than in, Noi,” I reminded her as we made the final dash for the hospital.

We came through the front doors to find Nurse Redheart and Doc Stable filling in forms behind the reception desk. “Doc, need a little help. Noi ate some azaleas and she’s not feeling too good.” Noi echoed me with a groan.

The two medical ponies dropped what they were doing. The doc came around the desk and brought a hoof up to feel Noi’s head. “Has she vomited it up yet?” I nodded as Stable used a stethoscope on Noi’s chest. “Sinus bradycardia, though she is reasonably fit,” he said to himself. The doc tapped on one of Noi’s legs and she winced. “What does that feel like, young lady?”

“Like a lot of ants,” Noi said, “they’re on my ears too.”

“Hydrated rhododendron poisoning,” the doc diagnosed. “Not bad enough for paralysis, but enough to need to stay overnight.”

The front door opened and Carrot Top came in, breathing heavily. “Doc, what’s wrong with her?”

“Azalea poisoning,” the doc explained again. “It shouldn’t be life threatening, but at her age we’d like to keep her overnight for atropine therapy.”

“Oh thank you, Celestia,” Carrot sighed with relief.

“Nurse Redheart,” Doc Stable asked. “Can you find a bed for this little filly while I go get a course of atropine?”

Redheart checked something on her desk. “Room ten is free, if you’d all like to come with me.” The nurse led the way into the winding corridors of the hospital. We were given a smaller room to ourselves, and Noi was placed in the bed with orders from the nurse to drink plenty of water.

Doc Stable came in a few minutes later to give Noi a pink coloured potion, which she drank. The effects stopped Noi from wanting to cough anything up, but couldn’t get rid of the problem immediately. “The toxin will slowly fade,” the doc assured Carrot. “Just keep up the fluids and it’ll be gone by morning.”

“Thank you again, doctor,” she replied.

“No trouble at all,” the doc said before moving on to his next patient.

Carrot pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you again, Time Turner.”

I patted her gingerly on the back. “Don’t worry about it, it was my fault anyway. I got the flowers.”

“But you ran across town to save her,” she objected, “and you figured out what was wrong. I’d hate to think what would happen if we’d ignored it and ate the salad ourselves.”

“It wouldn’t have been much different. The doc said as much, even for Noi – a filly – the dose wasn’t strong enough to do permanent damage.”

Carrot blinked as she thought about that. “I still don’t want to think about it,” she eventually answered, shifting on her hooves. “But you did the right thing.” Carrot drew me into another kiss. “Thank you.”

“Harvey,” said a weak voice. “Is Mr Turner your coltfriend?”

Carrot Top blushed and looked sheepishly at the bed. “Um, yes.”

“So it seems,” I added.

Noi smiled faintly. “I like him.” The endorsement set Carrot’s face aglow with a smile. Noi’s eyes closed as weariness claimed her, the smile remaining on her face as she drifted off to sleep.

Carrot hugged me again. It never ceased to amaze me how much ponies, especially mares, would attribute to somepony just doing the right thing. Fixing my own stupid mistake had only deepened Carrot’s appreciation of me, rather than just forgiving me.

Reaching up to one of my ears, Carrot whispered, “Could you stay here and look after Noi? I’m going home to get dinner and douse the oven.”

“No problem.” I looked down at the calm filly. “She’s probably going to sleep for a while anyway.”

It didn’t take long for Carrot Top to return, this time she had a set of bags with a covered pie tray and some plates. The pie had gone cold, but neither of us minded as we ate silently.

Morning found me in an armchair alongside Carrot. Since Noi’s time in hospital was entirely my fault, it felt like the right thing to do. Once the two Carrot sisters woke up, we shared a breakfast of leftovers before Noi – feeling much better for her night in hospital – was discharged in Carrot Top’s care.

After escaping more ‘thank yous’ and an offer to come over to try the cake that had been planned for last night, I made my way home and into my own bed to do the same thing Rainbow Dash does all morning. Sleep didn’t come easily; developments between Carrot and I weighed on my mind. It would probably be a while before I found myself comfortable with it.

Once the morning passed, the day brought me a visit from my other new best friend. Colgate rather cheerfully knocked on my door, her too bright grin contrasting nicely against my bed seeking frown.

“So, I heard you punched Berry last night.”

It took me a moment to figure that one out. “Oh, Berry Punch, yeah my fault. I was running Carrot’s sister Noi down to the hospital because she ate some of the poisoned flowers I’d been guilted into buying for Carrot from Azalea.”

Colgate’s eyes briefly flicked up as she thought about what I’d said. “Okay.” She blinked. “So you’re still making that watch for Carrot, right?”

“And for you,” I reminded her. This job would be tedious and she deserved to be paid somehow.

“Can you do them in blue?” she asked.

“I can,” I said tentatively, “Though we’ll see.” Using paper behind the handles on the face could manage that, but I’d have to see about finding some first.

Construction of the watches would take a few hours a day, and would require a few more sessions over the week. The first task was creating the long list of small parts. Outside my workshop, in my backyard sits a funnel like device. A miniature forge designed to melt small ingots of metal in a crucible, before pouring the liquid metal into a series of etched stone moulds that I’d gone into considerable effort making.

Colgate proved to be a steady horn with a pour, saving us considerable trouble when dealing with hot metal. Normally I’d before forced to use an unwieldy fork to lift the crucible and waste a lot of metal during a pour. It was just one of the benefits of having a unicorn around.

“So what metal is this, brass?” Colgate asked as we did a fifth pot to make the outer casings of the watches.

“Partially, it’s an alloy of copper, zinc, and aluminium.” Pronounced al-U-min-i-um I should add. “That last one’s expensive, but it stops the brass corroding.”

Colgate guided a stream of aluminium-brass into a watch casing shaped mould, its trip down the magical pipe from the crucible making a mockery of the usual difficulty. The only real saving grace here for the other two thirds of pony-kind here was that Colgate was an exceptional unicorn. “I never realized watchmaking would be so involved,” she commented as she moved on to other parts of the mould.

“It’s an interesting hobby,” I said as I pumped the bellows, bringing the temperature in the forge up to do another pot. “I actually travelled to Zebrica to learn more about mechanisms.” I put on a rough attempt at an accent, “‘Master your tongue, young one, or your work will come undone. Stone gears and water’s tears you must bring to task, if you truly want your cleverness to last.’ What we’re doing here still pales in comparison to what I’ve seen some of their masters do.”

“Water’s tears?” Colgate asked.

“A lot of Zebrican designs use water instead of a pendulum,” I clarified. “Metal is also more of an Equestrian thing.”

A knock echoed through my house and out my backdoor. I stopped pumping at the bellows to listen. The knock repeated: a triple knock, followed by a short pause before another knock, and pausing again before the sequence repeated. For some reason the delayed forth knock really bugged me.

The pair of stopped what we were doing and went to investigate. The knocker was on its fifteenth cycle when I opened the door. A dark pegasus stood on my doorstep and ran its eyes across my face and down to my flank. “Your name?” she droned.

“Time Turner,” I volunteered.

The pegasus blinked, then reached into a bag and pulled out an envelope. The plain stationary, durable and mass manufactured, lacked a marker saying where it was from, but there was only one group that would send a letter like that.

“Please sign for this delivery,” the messenger indicated a tear-off receipt on the envelope.

My eyes narrowed. “Why hasn’t this arrived through my regular contact? The EIS is supposed to contact me only through my local post-mare, Ditzy Doo.”

“This delivery is time critical,” the messenger justified. “It must be accepted and understood immediately.”

“Humph.” This was unusual, though justified since my last letter from Siren had been delayed a week while Ditzy was tied up with tornado duty. I took and signed for the envelope, tore off the receipt, and passed it back. “There you go.” The messenger wasted no time turning and flying off. Shutting the door, I went into my lounge room and put the envelope on my coffee table.

“What’s in it?” Colgate asked.

“Give me a minute.” I took my teeth to the end of the envelope and quickly opened it.

Time Turner

You are requested to investigate the following disturbance in Trottingham.

Case File: 8092375T
Suspected Disappearance of Equestrian Subject

An agent has been dispatched to assist you, and will meet you on the 10:30AM Train to Trottingham. We hope for a speedy resolution.

Siren

“Somehow I doubt that,” I muttered.

There was a wisp of air on my shoulder, Colgate’s head was hovering over me as she snuck a look at my classified communique. “Are all your letters like this?” she asked. “It looks like it was made with a template.” She eyed me. “I thought you said you were friends with Siren.”

“This isn’t that Siren,” I replied. Colgate looked suitably confused, so I elaborated, “The actual Siren is a VIP who runs the EIS on the side. This would be from one of the underlings just signing it in her name.” I stood up. “Still, looks like I’ve been summoned, probably because I’d know whoever’s gone missing and all the important ponies to talk to in Trottingham.”

Colgate’s ears perked up. “So you’re going on an adventure?”

“Yes.” I glanced back at her. “You still want to come on one?”

Colgate nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, when do we leave?”

“The next train going past Trottingham is tomorrow I think,” I said as I brought a hoof to my chin. “That’d be the reason for the courier as well, they couldn’t wait for Ditzy. The train only goes through once a week.”

“Trottingham’s where your family lives, right?” Colgate asked.

“Well, yeah.” Along with everypony I knew in my childhood.

“So I get to meet them, right?”

My ears flattened against my head. “Oh dear.”

The Pony Whose Victory, is his Destiny

As much as I’d like to simply drop everything and go galloping off into the sunset, there are things that need taking care of. I had commitments in Ponyville that needed clearing up first.

The front door opened as Colgate returned from visiting her own house, a flock of bags floating in the air behind her. The bags were emptied onto my kitchen bench, spilling out a collection of green vegetables, fruit, a box of eggs, and some mixed yogurts. Colgate wrapped her bags up and said, “So, this is everything I had in my fridge.”

“Good,” I said as I emptied my own onto another table. Mine tended towards more milk and dairy, but with a good variety of fruits and vegetables. “The Trottingham train is a once a week thing, so we can’t have this all going off while we’re away.”

“That can’t be too much of a problem,” she objected.

Looking out past my fridge door I gave her a serious look. “Last time I forgot to do a clear out, the fruit salad evolved into a functioning civilization and was being invaded by mould monsters out of my yogurt by the time I got home.” I ducked back into the fridge to grab something at the back. “It was like the damn smooze.”

Colgate compared the two piles of food we’d built up between us. “How can we possibly eat all this?”

I leant back out of the fridge and grinned. “Way ahead of you, I caught Caramel while you were gone and had him call in on Lane as well. Everypony’s been told to be here in thirty or so minutes.” I glanced over my shoulder at the kitchen clock. “Speaking of which, we should get started on the food. Colgate, can you throw together a quick salad while I set up a yogurt and cheese platter?”

“Alright,” she replied unevenly, taking a knife and a few vegetables into her hold.

The hurried preparation bore some fruit before the first knock on the door. I put the yogurt bowl I was mixing fruit into on the lounge room coffee table as I went to open the door. Caramel, Carrot Top, and Noi were on my doorstep, a cake sat on Caramel’s back while Noi sat on Carrot’s. Over their shoulders I could see Thunderlane in the distance making his way over with Banana Fluff.

“Hello, Turner,” Caramel greeted me with a hoof bump. “I caught Mac in one of the outer orchards; he’ll be along once he can sneak around AJ.”

“Thanks for that, Caramel,” I replied. “You can put that cake down on the table and see if there’s any record you like the sound of in my collection.”

“Cheers,” he said, brushing past.

I shared a smile with Carrot Top. “Hey, Goldie.” She brought me into a hug and I peered around that wonderful mane of hers to get a look at her little sister. “Hi, Noi, how you feeling now?”

Noi smiled weakly back at me and said, “Really hungry.” She probably hadn’t eaten much, if anything, since the azalea poisoning last night.

“Well we got that covered,” I said before breaking out of the hug with Carrot. Leading them inside, Colgate came out of the kitchen and flashed a smile at Carrot.

“Hi, Carrot,” Colgate said as she walked over.

Carrot paused for a moment before saying, “Hi, uh, should I call you Colgate or Minuette now?”

Colgate shrugged. “You’ve always called me ‘Colgate’ before, so you can keep doing that if you want. Consistency is important.”

There was a knock on the door behind me. “One moment,” I said and left the two mares to talk to each other.

I was greeted with “Hey, bud,” by Thunderlane as I opened the door for him. He looked a little more cheerful today, though the feathers on his wings were still playing catch up. “You said there was free food?” he said while trying to look past me.

“I haven’t decided whether or not to charge you yet, Mr Bottomless Pit,” I said before turning toward a very haggard looking Banana Fluff. “How are you?”

“Getting better.” A cough interrupted her before she finished, “Slowly.”

“You sure you’re up to this?” I asked cautiously.

“Flu’s gone,” she said back hoarsely. “I’m just in the recovery stage.”

Lane leant forward. “Bud, she’ll be fine, but she’s like me right now, the food will help her.”

I stepped aside. “Try not to give yourself a stomach ache.”

“Never had one in my life,” Lane said cheerfully as he made his way in with Banana.

Looking out my door and across the street, I noticed lights on in Ditzy’s house. Figuring that I could be spared from the developing party in my house for a moment, I went across the street to invite my neighbour over. Perhaps Dinky could come over and play with Noi while Ditzy searched the table for muffins.

Knocking on Ditzy’s door, I looked back over at my place, and flicked my head back around again when the door opened. “Hello, Ditzy, I was just…” My eyebrows furrowed as I caught the dulled look on her face. The sort of look that’s halfway to a smile that you only wear when you’re trying to avoid looking sad. “What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.

Ditzy looked back over her shoulder and I leant my head forward to look around the doorframe. Cloud Kicker was sitting on a sofa, zoned out and staring into the distance. I doubt she even noticed me knocking on the door. Looking back at Ditzy, she nodded outside. Getting the signal, I stepped back and Ditzy followed me out. Once the door shut, Ditzy said, “Cloud’s mother has gone MIA.”

“Pegasus?” I asked and Ditzy nodded back. That didn’t sound good. When a guard is declared ‘Missing In Action’, it means that the guard in question has gone missing in one of the few places in Equestria where they can’t be sure that they’re safe.

When this happens to a unicorn or earth pony, there’s some hope that they’ve just been delayed, or gotten lost. A pegasus doesn’t tend to stay lost for long if they can still fly, so calling her MIA at this point just meant, ‘we haven’t found the body yet.’ Considering some of the things out there that could threaten an armed pony, they weren’t likely to.

“Is that all you know?” I asked solemnly, and Ditzy nodded back. I sighed. “I came over to say that there’s a party over my place and there’s free food.” I shot a glance at one of Ditzy’s front windows. “Cloud’s probably not up to that sort of thing, but the offer’s there anyway.”

“Thanks,” she said back.

“Take good care of her,” I said as we nodded our goodbyes and I made my way back across the street.

Music had sprung up in my absence, somepony had figured out how to get my turntable going and put one of the records on. The atmosphere around me quickly shed its depression and became cheerful again as I went back through my door. Inside, a decent party had gotten under way: Colgate and Carrot were chatting on the couch while others had spread around to talk or enjoy the music while eating all the food.

I made my way over to the couch where Carrot and Colgate were talking, getting just close enough to listen in. “…Noi’s teeth probably don’t need any special attention,” Colgate said as she chatted with Carrot. “If anything, the somewhat carrot exclusive diet has probably helped.”

“I suppose there isn’t anything to worry about then,” Carrot replied.

“Not yet,” Colgate warned. “Most of my problems are with the fillies and colts in town that practically live on sugar. It just takes a few friends and regular afternoon trips to Bon Bon’s stand to ruin all that good behaviour.”

Stepping in, I said, “Still scaring ponies into dental hygiene? I thought we got past that.”

Colgate sat up. “I’ve spent too long fighting against Bon Bon and Sugar Cube Corner to stop now.”

“A worthy crusade to be sure,” I said.

“If it means I don’t need to remove more teeth, it is,” she shot back.

“Well,” Carrot cut in, “As long as Noi doesn’t lose any teeth, I’m happy.” Colgate leant back and beamed that bright white smile of hers at me.

Since this wasn’t a battle I could claim the high ground on, I decided to move on. “Well, I’m going to check on things in the kitchen.”

Carrot stood up, “I’ll come with. Colgate, could you keep an eye on Noi for me?”

“Sure,” she replied with a nod.

On the way to the kitchen we passed Noi dancing to the music from my record player, and Caramel and Mac – he must have arrived while I was gone – were both making huge sandwiches from what condiments were available. The platters of neatly sliced vegetables made it an easy process for them.

In the kitchen itself we found Thunderlane and Banana, one of my knives was held in the latter’s magic along with a cucumber. Banana herself was up reared up, with her back against the counter while Thunderlane used what stability his crippled wings could give him to get up and kiss her.

Carrot Top shut the door behind us with a brief thump.

Banana’s eyes shot open and she dropped the knife she was holding, which in turn sliced through the cucumber before hitting the cutting board and then falling to the floor with a clatter. Lane froze, before awkwardly stepping back. Clearly they’d gotten used to living together over the last few days.

I rubbed my forehead. “You’ve been here, what, five minutes, Lane?”

Lane suddenly looked very sheepish; he glanced back and forth between me and Carrot. “We’ll, uh, give you a minute.” The pair left via the other door, which led out to the hallway instead of the party in the lounge.

With them gone, Carrot went over to the bench with the two halves of cucumber and put the knife back on the cutting board. “So, you’re going on an adventure with Colgate.”

“Got a request from… Siren’s ponies a few hours ago. Apparently there’s been a disappearance and I’m supposed to go look into it. A real last minute thing, I need to catch a train out tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t they have agents for that sort of thing?” she asked.

“Well it is in Trottingham,” I said with a shrug. “They probably want me because it’s my home.” I glanced around my kitchen and added, “Well, my old home. They might also be busy with other problems.”

“What other problems?”

“Another disappearance, something happened to Cloud Kicker’s mum.” Carrot’s eyes widened. I continued, “Two at the same time means they could be related, and other weird things might be happening.” Siren’s hinted as much in a few of the letters she’s sent recently.

We stood in silence, thinking about what could be potentially brewing before Carrot asked, “So why are you taking Colgate?”

“Breezie points,” I replied. Carrot gave me a questioning look, so I added, “She’s a walking rules violation. Time magic is part of her nature – It’s her mark – and right now the only thing stopping the EIS from noticing her is that the problem’s in my basket, but should she draw the notice of somepony else less forgiving, she’ll be in real trouble. The best way out of this is to make herself too useful to lock up. If she builds up a history of using her magic to help other ponies, the authorities won’t stop her. So that’s why I’m dragging her along.”

“Ah…” Carrot shrank down a bit. “And I was just wondering why you didn’t ask me as well.”

I mentally kicked myself. “Oh I’m sorry, Carrot, I didn’t think you’d want to.” I sighed and said, “Tell you what, next adventure, I promise to take you along.”

“Thank you,” she said before drawing me into a hug.

The morning after, with dishes done and an empty fridge switched off to save power, I collected Colgate before making our way to the train station. We both had bags on our backs and I had my hat – with its ‘accessories’ – on my head.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve done any real travel,” Colgate jabbered in the manic way some ponies use to control anxiety, “Or spent more than a day or two away from home.” She paused as we clambered up onto the low platform. “I did turn all my lights off at home, right?”

“You did.”

“Wait, what about—”

I put a hoof on her shoulder to forestall what could turn into a long list of things she’d forgotten. “Colgate, everything is fine, and it will still be fine when we come back home.”

“But what if—”

“You didn’t leave the gas on either.”

Colgate waited patiently on the platform while I paid for a pair of tickets to Trottingham. The conductor had to check the timetable just to be sure the route was even running that day. Once the tickets were paid for – and a receipt written out for a later claim from the EIS – I re-joined Colgate as we waited alone on the empty platform.

“So, you excited about going home?” she asked me.

I nodded calmly. “It’s been a while, I haven’t actually heard from anypony there in a long time.”

Colgate regarded me with surprise. “Don’t your parents write to you?”

Frowning, I said, “Well, I move around too much to give out a postal address, and I was supposed to be keeping a low profile while living in Ponyville.”

“Low profile?” she said sarcastically.

I gave her an aside glance. “I’m sorry, was I the one who saved Princess Luna?”

“Chasing me through Ponyville?” she countered.

“Alright, perhaps I’m slipping up a bit,” I said. “But I digress, I write home with postcards whenever I’m out and about. Mum must have quite the collection by now, along with the occasional photo I’ve sent back as well, but it’s been very one sided.”

“Well it’ll be nice to see them again,” she said cheerfully. “They must have a lot they’ll want to talk about. I’m looking forward to it.”

The prospect of that sent a few thoughts bouncing around my head, few of them good.

Colgate’s smile widened when she saw the frown on my face. “You think it’ll be awkward?”

“Awkward isn’t what I’m afraid of,” I muttered.

A whistle from down the track caught our attention as a column of smoke approached. The plume of smoke darkened as the engineers stifled the flame in preparation for coming into station.

“We might want to go down the edge of the platform,” I said with a nudge and led the way toward the Canterlot side. The locomotive blew its whistle again to let off some more steam as it came into the station. A rattle ran down the line of cars as they all finally came to a halt. The clanking from the engine stopping as the pistons fell to silence while the fire slowly brought steam pressure back up for the take-off.

The doors along the line of carriages opened as the passengers stepped out to stretch their legs. A conductor announced, “The train to Los Pegasus will be departing in ten minutes.” A queue of ponies formed to use the station lavatory.

Down the end of the platform where we were, things were less crowded. “This is us,” I said as I led Colgate to the carriage on the end of the train. The final car was a slightly different colour than the rest, and attached to the back of the brake van rather than in front of it. A sign beside its door said, “Trottingham passengers only.”

I held out a hoof and said, “Mares first.”

Colgate gave me a sardonic look over her shoulder as she stepped onto the train car, and ear first into a colt stepping out the door. They bounced off each other, with Colgate rubbing her ear while the colt straightened the gold helmet he wore. “Sorry, my bad, you okay?” he asked.

“Well if you…” Colgate started as she looked forward again. “I’m fine.”

The colt smiled and held out a hoof. “Flash Sentry, Twelfth Precinct Gendarmerie.” This was accompanied by a brief flutter of wings and what looked like a brief twinkle of light catching on one of his teeth. It was the kind of look that promised that not only did he have your back, that he was also hiding a spear wherever he kept his hammers.

“I’m…” there was a brief pause, and I knew that if I could see Colgate’s cheeks I’d see her blushing. “…Fine.”

Flash nodded slightly and went “Yes…”

I rolled my eyes and tapped her on the flank, saying, “Minuette, train’s waiting.”

She snapped out of it with an, “Oh.”

“Minuette,” Flash echoed, “that’s a nice name.”

“Yes it is,” I echoed while watching his eyes, nothing appeared.

Flash gallantly stepped aside with a nod for Colgate to pass, she promptly did, her tail perhaps swaying more than necessary. I followed for a few steps before turning around to face the ‘guard’. “Twelfth Precinct’s in Canterlot,” I said out loud, “and that’s law enforcement, not military.” I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a bit far from home.”

“Well,” Flash grinned back at me, “the things we do for love.”

“Is it for a pony or for Equestria?” I challenged.

“Yes,” his grin got wider, and I endured it for a silent moment. “Time Turner?” he asked.

“That’s me,” I said.

“You know,” his head tilted to the left. “I was expecting…”

I shook my head in amusement. “What, were you expecting somepony with pet breezie or a broad accent? Not all adventurers are blatantly obvious.”

“You’ve got an accent,” Flash said.

“I don’t, but I do have the hat,” I said while tapping the brim.

“And Miss Minuette,” he added more seriously, “Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Ah, she’s tagging along with me,” I reassured him. “Trained magus,” I added with a nod, “and likes using her magic for the greater good.”

“The greater good,” Flash followed with a nod. “Train should be leaving soon, let’s take our seats.”

Flash led the way into the carriage proper and took up a guard position at the back of the car while I sat down across from Colgate. Our guard certainly could sell the role. Could be an act, I noted to myself, all the way out here with a self-contradictory name to boot. If he’s actually who he says he is, I’m a griffon’s dinner.

As the train lurched into motion, I caught Colgate shooting a glance Flash’s way with a subtle smile on her face. I gave her a withering look and Colgate snorted back at me. “What? He’s cute. I can look, can’t I?”

I grimaced. “You can, but do you want to get the attention of an operative I don’t know, from an agency that includes rogue casters like you as part of their counter intelligence portfolio?”

The colour drained from Colgate’s face. “You don’t think…”

“I checked,” I reassured her. “He didn’t recognize your real name.”

“Right,” she sighed as she went back to looking over my shoulder at Flash.

“Minuette,” I reminded her.

She snapped out of it, bringing a hoof to her face. “Oh.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I can’t help it, he’s just there and… never mind.” Colgate closed her eyes and switched over to sit beside me instead with her back to Flash.

Eventually the train came to a halt again, but this time it wasn’t at a station. Somepony in the brake van decoupled our car from the train and a whistle heralded the train as it departed again.

Colgate shot out of her seat. “They’re leaving us behind!”

Looking up from the newspaper I was reading, I said, “Calm down, Minuette. Trottingham’s on a branch line, there’ll be another engine along shortly to pick us up.” Taking a peek out the window, I added, “Speaking of which, here it comes now.”

Colgate leant out the door to get a look herself, while our erstwhile guard stood shock still behind us like a statue. Outside a blue tank engine, a small steam engine for light work, backed up toward us from its branch line. A squeak of its brakes, followed by a hiss of steam out of the engine’s pressure valve, heralded a clatter of the couplings before an earth pony in blue overalls clambered up into the carriage. “Alrighty you lot, we’ll be down in… blimey, Time is that you?”

It took me a moment to recognise the pony. “Stack?” I asked, not quite believing until he nodded back.

“I haven’t seen you in years, you muppet,” he said as he sauntered over.

I put down my newspaper, stood, and bumped hooves with him. “Just been everywhere else you haven’t.” I nodded toward the front of the carriage and added, “Since when do you run Tommy?”

“For five years now,” Stack replied. “Ever since the old gaffer thought he was getting a bit on for all the shovelling.”

Colgate held her head in her hooves. “Oh Celestia, those accents…”

“Hey,” Stack said, taking offence. “You’re the one with the accent here.”

I laughed before making introductions, “Minuette, this is Smoke Stack, old school buddy. Stack this is Minuette, traveling companion.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Stack bent forward and caught his engineer’s cap as it fell off his head, doffing it back on his head as he straightened up. “And who’s that in the back?” he nodded at Flash, who didn’t respond.

“Our escort,” I explained. “We’re here on official business.”

“You? Official?” He said, followed by a bark of laughter. “You’ve never been one for keeping to the straight and narrow.” Stack’s eyes furrowed. “Speaking of which,” he turned for the door, “better get us off the mainline before something else comes along and shafts us. Cheerio,” he finished as he went out and back to the tank engine.

Colgate sat down with a sigh. “Please tell me that nopony else in Trottingham speaks like that.”

I shrugged. “Stack’s got it bit more than most, but it varies.”

The train took off again, the small engine pulling the lone carriage onto branch line, pausing only for Stack to flip the points back again. Then it was all downhill into the Old Valley, bordered on both sides by white cliffs and the greenest grass you could ever imagine.

“Wow,” Colgate breathed as we passed into the valley.

“The cliffs are a mix of chalk and limestone,” I explained, “and the valley has a high water table, so the countryside is always green.” Judging by the note of longing in my own voice, I’d missed the sight of it. “Means we also have to be careful building as well, there are caves all through the ground here, so we can’t put too much weight on a spot.”

As the train reached the valley floor, the view of the white cliffs was blocked by the greenery surrounding the track. Eventually this also gave way to open fields filled with golden wheat, barley, orchards, and a windmill off in the distance. In the middle of all this was a small town, my home.

The train pulled into a small yard where a platform sat on the siding closest to the town. The other sidings held a few other train cars and the maintenance shed for Trottingham’s tank engine. We came to a halt with a clank and a whistle.

“Come on,” I nudged Colgate and we collected our bags. Our guard, Hurry-up-and-Wait remained where he stood. “Flash, you awake?” I called over, which didn’t really change anything. Colgate and I shared a glance. I couldn’t remember Flash even blinking in the last hour of the train ride.

Colgate hummed in thought, before looking back into one of her bags and pulling out a toothbrush – probably one of many – before using her magic to wave it in front of Flash’s eyes. “I always wondered if they actually just stood sleeping while at their posts,” Colgate mused, “They never seemed to move otherwise.”

I frowned and added, “As much as I’d like to leave him behind…”

Colgate glanced back at me. “Wake him up then.”

“And cop a steel shod hoof to my face for the trouble?” I asked rhetorically. “No thanks. You’re the one with magic.”

Colgate’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you were the brave adventurer with the—” I cut her off with a glare before she could say ‘time turn’.

“It still hurts,” I replied, “and brave doesn’t mean stupid.” One of Colgate’s eyebrows arched, and I added, “Not all the time, at least.”

Colgate spun her toothbrush as it hovered, waiting in the air. “Fine, I’ll do it, but if he’s not happy…” she gave me a ‘you know what I mean’ look.

“Considered yourself temporally insured,” I said as I prepped myself for a time turn.

Colgate sighed and tapped Flash with her brush. When that didn’t work she started running the rough bristles up and down Flash’s muzzle. Colgate looked back at me and I nudged my hat up and pointed at the watch face still concealed underneath, I could only insure for so long. Colgate shifted the hold on her brush and whipped it across his ear instead. Flash’s eye twitched, and as we came to toward the limit of my temporal insurance policy, Colgate poked our Sleepy Sentry in the eye.

Flash jolted slightly, and then stopped. Colgate’s toothbrush flew back across to us and into her bag. With her horn glowing brightly, Colgate pushed me toward the seats. We both sat down and Colgate hissed, “Act like nothing happened.” Then she released the magic she was holding onto with a relieved sigh.

Flash finished his significantly slowed jolt back in real time, with a “–ch”. Then I heard the soft tinkle of mail and metal plate as he probably looked around for the source.

I rummaged around in my bags, looking as distracted as possible. “Everything’s still here.” I looked back up from the bag flap as asked, “Ready to go, Minuette?”

Colgate yawned. “It’ll be good to stretch out legs, mine have gone all stiff.”

“Speaking of stiff,” I said, “Flash, you ready to go?”

It took a second for the guard to snap out of whatever alert gaze he’d gone into. “Did either of you see a horsefly or something?”

“Probably came in the window,” I dismissed as I stood up and put my bags on my back. “We’ve arrived, and that missing pony isn’t going to find itself.”

We gathered the rest of our things, straightened ourselves up and went out onto the platform. It was a station very similar to the one in Ponyville, and built around the same time as well. Along with the other buildings dedicated to the railway line, the station was probably one of the newest structures in Trottingham.

Smoke Stack stood on the other end of the platform speaking to a green pegasus, that took off and flew into town before I could hear what they were saying. Stack waved us over and said, “You’d all better head over to town hall. The mayor will be wanting to see you, Time, what with that official business and so on.”

“Will do, and thanks for the ride, Stack.”

Stack shrugged. “It’s my job, but I appreciate it.”

Our party left the station and went down the chalk cobblestone roads toward town hall. Heads turned to look as we passed, many I dimly recognized. Though I could hardly be sure they recognized me in turn, perhaps the guard following us was more important news.

“What do you think?” I asked Colgate as we walked into a market.

She looked around. “It doesn’t seem all that different from Ponyville at first: green grass, a few trees, a farmer’s market, and that mare over there selling apples even looks a bit like Applejack,” she finished with a nod at a stall owner.

“Must be a cousin,” I replied, an easy assumption since the hat she wore looked exactly like Applejack’s signature headgear.

“But…” Colgate trailed off as she looked around. “When you look closer, it’s different. The houses are sort of squarer…”

“Older architecture,” I chimed in.

“…and everything seems more organized, like rows of teeth,” she compared. “Everything’s beside a street, kind of like Canterlot.”

“That’s probably because of the rebuild,” I said while looking around, “it happened around the same time Canterlot was rebuilt. The layout is organized into a starlike structure with six laneways leading out from the centre circle. Before it all burnt down, the layout would have been something in a ‘build anywhere that isn’t taken’ sort of way.”

“The entire town burnt down?” Colgate asked. “I’ve never heard about anything like that.”

“Well, it was nine-hundred-ish years ago and during one of those big wars that we collectively try to forget. You know,” I said with a shrug, “one of the situations where a good bit of love and tolerance would have fixed everything?” I rolled my eyes. “In short, while everypony else was fighting, the town was razed by griffon raiders taking advantage of the chaos. Fortunately, the town was warned about the attack in advance, so we buried our valuables, harvested our crops, and waited it out in the caverns beneath the town.”

“They never found anypony?” Colgate asked.

“Can’t be sure, but the stories say they didn’t,” I replied candidly. “The caverns are extensive and often flooded. Not a place a bird would go, especially when their kitty half is scared of getting wet.”

“We’ll have to find a guide to help search it then,” Colgate announced. “If somepony’s gone missing, then they’re probably down in the caverns.” Her stride took on a more confident step. “Where else would somepony hide something?”

“They would already have looked,” I pointed out and added, “If they aren’t still looking now.” Colgate deflated a little bit. My father used to point out that with so many ponies in the world, most of your own ideas would have been thought up by somepony else as well. The key thing was that when you do find an idea nopony has acted on, you need to act on it as soon as possible. “We’d better check with the mayor to see what’s been done and build on that.”

“Who’s the mayor?” Colgate asked.

“Well…” I said while looking around, Trottingham had changed while I was gone. “Old Chestnut used to be the mayor, but now I’m not sure. It was a long time ago.”

The avenue opened out into the centre circle of the town. It wasn’t too crowded today, and most ponies were sitting under the massive oak tree that dominated the space. On one side of the circle was Town Hall, a somewhat imposing building that – saving renovations – was built from solid wood and marble from a different and darker era.

On the other side of the old oak was the Horseshoe Theatre, its entrance guarded by a pony wearing black armour. The Theatre is one of the premiere centres of the performing arts in Equestria, where actors learn and perform their trade into front of Trottingham’s critical audience before touring the rest of the country. Many of Bridleway actors learned from the masters who performed here.

We got a few more looks as we crossed over to the marble steps and big mahogany front doors of town hall. “Flash,” I said back over my shoulder, “let’s make an entrance.”

Our guard grinned and took a brief flap forward ahead of Colgate and me, before pushing the doors open. Flash walked through the gap, scanned the lobby, and stood aside. I walked in with Colgate beside me, the both of us looking important with our guard and confident demeanour.

It was a shame nopony was there to see it.

“Ah,” I muttered dejectedly. Colgate giggle snorted, while Flash kept his professional demeanour up.

A door opened at the back of the lobby and a mare with a little holster of quills and paper on her back hurried over to greet us. “Mr Turner, It’s a pleasure.”

“The same,” I replied while trying to place her face in my memories of home. While most ponies in Trottingham gave me faint memories, this clerk didn’t match any.

“And you,” the clerk said toward Colgate. “Apologies, we were only forewarned of your arrival a few minutes ago. The Mayor is just finishing something up and will be with you in a moment, if you’d like to wait in his office?”

I blinked. “Uh, thank you.”

“Please, come this way,” she said turned to lead us.

I shrugged at Colgate and followed the clerk’s lead across the lobby past a receptionist desk that sat unoccupied, but not unused, and just past Trottingham’s own royal clock where it sat in a place of honour at the base of a double stairway. This royal clock looked just like the one I kept time by in Ponyville, though the Trottingham one was significantly older.

We continued up the flight of stairs built on either side of the royal clock, at the top of the staircase was another mahogany door emblazoned with, ‘Mayor’s Office’. We stopped before the door and our guide nodded back at me and said, “Please make yourselves comfortable, and Mr Turner, it’s good to have you back in town again, sir.”

“Thank you,” I replied, whoever you are.

Colgate used her magic to open the door and we walked into a room that sharply contrasted with the grand atrium. It was light and airy for a start: a section of wall had been replaced with a huge glass window that bathed the room in light, presumably for the carpet’s sake which was a well-tended field of grass. The grass flooring, growing in actual earth, gave the room a uniquely fresh smell, and judging from the slight wetness of the grass, it had been watered recently.

“Wow,” Colgate breathed as she turned around to take the entire room in. “It’s so, so…”

“Earth pony,” I added. Not just any earth pony either, this was the work of a master in the art of lawn maintenance.

A slight pit started forming in my stomach as I glanced over at Colgate, who twisted on the spot of grass where she stood. “It feels nice to stand on this.”

Flash grunted, “It’s okay,” showing typical pegasus disdain for anything on the ground.
I kept looking at all the little details around the office. “I’m more impressed by the effort it takes to grow a lawn inside on the first floor of a building.”

“Assuming it took much effort at all,” said another voice, the kind of voice that waved a red flag in front of a bull to tempt it, the owner knowing full well that not only could he take the bull by the horns, but he could ride it to Canterlot and back. “Bit o’ plastic, some piping for drip watering hooked into the bathroom, and roll a bit o’ me namesake down over it all. Only took a few hours, might even have sung a bit.”

I’d guessed it, but I still didn’t believe it. Turning around to look back at the door I asked, “Who was mad enough to make you Mayor?”

The greying stallion in the doorway grinned back at me. “That’s the great part of democracy, son, its everypony’s fault.” His grin disappeared as he turned to look at Flash Sentry. “’Okay’, is it?” he said with an aggressive shrug. The mayor threw his head back over his shoulder, “Get out.”

Flash straightened and glared back, the mayor met the glare with his own as his lips split just enough to show a hint of his teeth. Flash’s eyes shifted to me and I gave him a slight shrug, I knew better than to get involved. The guard’s glare retreated back to a neutral expression and walked stiffly toward the door where the mayor’s secretary waited.

“Inky,” the mayor said without looking back over his shoulder, “keep Iron Sides here distracted and cancel my next meeting, I’ve got to spend quality time with Time.” The secretary didn’t seem to have a problem with that, eyeing Sentry’s armour as he walked toward her. Flash was a little more enthusiastic as he reached the door as well.

Once the door shut, the mayor continued, “When that flippy little twit Ollie came back here babbling that you of all ponies had just gotten off the train, I thought he was pulling my leg like one of those bloody actors,” he nodded toward the theatre. “Imagine my surprise seeing you walk in here bold as brass without so much as a telegram saying, ‘Coming home, stop. Prepare a parade, stop. And a virgin mare, stop.’” He nodded at Colgate with a slight grin. “Though I can see you’ve taken care of that last part.”

“Excuse me,” Colgate said with a glare while lowering her horn.

The mayor brought a hoof to his chest. “I’m sorry, did I offend you? Honest mistake, you’re not a virgin.” Colgate must have flinched, so the mayor struck again, “No, I’m right, you are a virgin.” He returned his attention to me. “Which is a shame, because I want to have grandfoals before I die of a bloody aneurism.” Colgate squeaked, the mayor grinned.

“It’ll be your own fault too,” I chastised. “Getting elected mayor? Your mane’s going grey already.”

He snorted back at me. “I’ve held this office for years and my reign of terror still has a long time yet.”

“Colgate,” I began, pointing toward the mayor. “This is my father, Sod Turner. And, Dad, this is Colgate – also Minuette – she’s here to help me investigate the disappearance.”

“It’s nice—” Colgate began gratingly.

“Hold on,” Dad cut Colgate off, “What disappearance?” he scowled.

My eyes narrowed. “I was told somepony went missing.”

The old Sod tensed and cursed under his breath. “I called that thing off, it’s not a disappearance.” I held up a hoof and twirled it, motioning for him to continue. Dad just sighed, “It’s just Page.”

A pit opened up behind my heart, and I froze. Colgate on the other hoof didn’t see the relevance and asked, “Why’d you call it off? Do you know where she is?”

“It’s not the first time,” Dad said as he went to sit behind his desk. “She throws herself into her writing; sometimes you don’t see her for weeks.” He snorted. “The only time she leaves her desk is when she’s forced to, or otherwise she’s off in her own little world. A couple of her school friends filed a report with the guard after they hadn’t seen her for a few months, and I called it off because she told me not to worry because she’d be out of touch for a while.” He bent down behind his desk, where I heard a drawer slide out.

“And they believed you?” Colgate asked.

Sod Turner dropped a file onto the desktop with a snort. “Why not? I’m her father after all, and it’s not the first time one of my kids ran off into the sunset,” he said while giving me a pointed look.

I grumbled, “At least I sent postcards.”

“You get a ‘C’ for participating, your sister gets the A+ for submitting a letter,” he slid a piece of writing paper out, “and season tickets to the Trottingham Company’s Bridleway shows.” A set of red bordered tickets were slid out onto the desk.

Stepping closer I looked down at the list of applicable shows covered: there were the usual classics like Roamer and Tulip and Celestia, the only new show on the list was Princess of Love. “Huh, I actually saw this one when I was in Manehattan last month,” I said pointing at Princess of Love.

Colgate looked at me with an arched eyebrow. “You went to see a romance?”

“It was more than ‘a romance’,” I countered. “It wasn’t much of a romance in the conventional sense anyway.”

“Did you enjoy it?” Dad asked.

“It was accurate,” I admitted. “It managed to keep close to the actual events, while embellishing the story for the audience without losing its point. So it was pretty good.”

“Good,” Dad replied, “Because Page wrote it.”

I blinked. “Really?”

“So she works for the Theatre then,” Colgate surmised. “What does the letter say?”

Dad spun the latter around and read it out aloud, “Dear Father, I’m working on something new over at the theatre, and I’ll be out of contact for a year while it develops. It’s a big secret, and so I can’t talk about it, or be seen for a while. Tell mother I love her. Page Turner.”

Frowning I mused, “Sounds like her.” Pausing to consider my ability to judge, I added, “I think.”

Sod harrumphed. “I last saw her almost a year ago, before this letter was left on my desk. But I thought this was her writing, so I called off the investigation.”

“But,” Colgate said, “You’re not sure.”

“She’s my daughter,” Dad replied, “When I heard nothing after a month I started to worry again, but I trust her. She’ll reappear when she wants to.”

“But,” Colgate added, “Why is the EIS interested when you shut down the investigation?”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” Dad replied.

“Dad,” I began. “We’ve been sent here with a guard neither of us know as escort and given very little detail about who we’re supposed to be looking for.” I raised an eyebrow, “Does this add up?” I prompted.

Dad growled. “When it doesn’t add up, you don’t know the whole equation.” He kicked something solid under his desk. “If that’s it, then some jacked up twit’s trying to be clever, switching multipliers around and cancelling stuff out, and in my town too,” he said while tapping himself in the chest.

“This doesn’t mean there’s a plot or a scheme,” I said, trying to sound reasonable. “Don’t assume malice,” I half quoted a piece of advice Siren had given me many years before. “The EIS probably have their reasons for looking into this and not telling us everything.”

“You said it yourself,” Colgate began, “Siren didn’t send you here. Do you trust the entire EIS?”

“Nope,” I said. “Just saying we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. Especially if we can’t see the whole equation,” I added while shooting a glance at my father.

Sod harrumphed. “I prefer to think they’re all out to get me, so when I find they’re not, I’m pleasantly surprised.”

“So,” Colgate asked, “if there is a trap, what do we do?”

“We spring it.” I smiled at Colgate and finished, “On our terms.”

Colgate gave me a questioning look. “Why would you willingly walk into a trap?”

“Because the best way to figure out what someone is doing is to make them think that everything is going according to their plan.” I gave her an aside glance. “Can’t let them know that you’re onto them.” Turning back to look at Dad, I said, “So whatever’s going on, Page is involved. We need to find her.”

Sod stood up, waved at us to follow and went over to window. The window looked down over the town square. “Then you’ll need to go speak with them,” he nodded toward the theatre on the other side. “She spent the better part of her time over there before we stopped seeing her.”

“Right, talk to the actors, got it,” I said before turning to leave.

“You probably won’t get it,” dad said over his shoulder. “The Black Knight’s guarding the door, and they haven’t let anyone in for a month.”

“Worth a try anyway,” I said with a shrug. “At least we can pretend to be following the script the EIS set out for us.” I beckoned at Colgate. “Let’s get Hurry-Up-and-Wait and see what kind of show the actors have in store for us.”

“Right,” Colgate said and turned for the door.

Dad stood up and leant forward, supporting himself on his desk as he glared at me. “Don’t you go disappearing either; your mother has been waiting a long time to see you again. If you skip town again, I’ll send somepony to tie you up and drag you back here.”

I smiled sheepishly as I followed Colgate, and said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

We picked up Flash on our way out. True to his name, the colt had moved quickly on dad’s assistant, and was flirting with her across the reception desk. The assistant had a goofy smile on her face as she giggled at something the guard said to her. I called out to him as we crossed the lobby and Flash said his goodbyes before joining us again, the assistant gazing forlornly after us as we left town hall.

Outside, the sun was lower in the sky and more ponies had gathered around the town oak for afternoon tea. A couple carts had appeared, offering tea, coffee, biscuits, and scones, while a small flock of birds circled above – probably watching for crumbs or an unattended scone.

Somewhere a clock chimed four times. Four O’clock, Tea Time. My own belly growled to demand a full pot of tea and a side of scones, orange scones if possible. Unfortunately the other half of this endeavour didn’t share my hunger.

“Come on,” Colgate called back as she led the way through the crowd. Flash overtook me and I picked up the pace as we entered the eye of the storm. By some unspoken agreement, none of the Trottingham locals went within fifteen lengths of the Theatre entrance, and I didn’t feel too thrilled about it either. Colgate seemed to catch on and pulled up with Flash Sentry beside her about ten lengths from the statue at the centre.

I approached a little more gently and stopped beside her. “Minuette, this is the Black Knight.” Standing in front of the open side of the theatre’s horseshoe shape was a suit of Unicornian style armour. It was the kind of kit normally on display in Canterlot mansions that provides full coverage from hoof to horn in plate. It was, quite naturally, black, and a caparison style cape in dark grey completed the set. The knight didn’t look armed, but anything could be concealed under the cape.

Colgate’s eyes shifted from the knight and back to me a few times. “Is there actually somepony in there?”

“The Black Knight himself.” I frowned and added, “Or at least we think it’s a ‘him’.”

“I thought he was just a story,” Colgate said.

“He is,” Flash said as he straightened himself up, looking unshaken. “The stories of the rogue knight date back to before Equestria’s founding. The armour might be that old, the pony...” Flash shook his head.

“It is a story,” I said evenly, “The best kind of story, one that keeps being retold and performed through the ages. When a good actor plays a character, most ponies might never imagine anyone else could fit that role, but with some characters an actor finds he can’t be anything else anymore.” I stared into the eye slit of the knight’s helm and caught a brief hint of blue in the shadow. “Rumour has it that this one never took the armour off again.”

Everything was silent for a moment, even the crowd behind us had fallen quiet. The knight still hadn’t moved, but you could almost feel a watchful feeling in the air. I leaned a little closer to Colgate and whispered, “Go on, he’s waiting.”

Colgate tensed, but then released. “Uh… isn’t this your thing?”

“You were leading a moment ago,” I replied. “Isn’t he ‘blocking your path’?” Deepening my voice I added, “If somepony tries to block…”

Colgate took a breath to steady herself, and was about to step forward when the statue’s head turned to face her. “I don’t rock,” she almost squeaked.

“I do,” Flash said with a grin before stepping forward. I followed our guard forward a few lengths, and as we stepped closer the knight turned to properly face us, we had his attention.

I opened my mouth, reconsidered my words and greeted with, “Hail, Sir Knight, we wish to speak with the troupe leader of the theatre.”

“Entry denied,” replied an echo like voice. “The troupe is currently out on tour, and theatre is closed.”

I tried to catch the blue of his eyes again and asked, “Did Page Turner go with them? If I can’t speak to the leader, I’ll happily talk to my sister.”

If the knight was surprised by my words, I couldn’t see it through his mask. “Miss Turner is currently occupied, and I won’t allow anything to disturb her.” There was a subtle movement in the knight’s stance and helm tilted forward to point his horn toward us. It wasn’t said, but the threat was there.

So she’s in there, I noted inwardly.

Flash didn’t take the threat lightly, stepping forward and opening his wings to challenge the Black Knight. “We’re here on behest of her Royal Highness, let us in.”

The knight widened his stance. “Be it queen, princess, or guard, none shall pass me.”

Our guard started forward to accept the challenge, saying, “If you think you can just—” and the knight responded before he could finish his sentence. The following tussle moved quickly, too fast for me to follow. A few moments decided the battle, and the knight threw Flash onto his back before slamming a hoof against his helmet to knock him out.

Colgate gasped, “Celestia!” Similar gasps came from the crowd gathered behind us.

“Whoa,” I said to myself. After blinking a few times, I decided I needed to see it again for myself. “Colgate,” I said while tapping her on the shoulder. “I’m going to roll that back, can you slow it down?”

“Yeah…”

“Reset,” I said aloud, and the fight broke out again. I gave Colgate a nudge and she activated her ‘clock-up’ time spell, slowing our time down to about a quarter of the normal. This time around, we had front row seats to see everything in glorious detail.

As Flash Guarding stepped forward to challenge the knight, the black armoured figure held up a hoof to stop him. Flash slapped it down and pumped his wings to shoot forward. The knight dug in with his hind-hooves and met The Flash with his armoured bulk. Flash, in the air, had only the momentum of his body versus the Black Knight and the earth beneath him – Flash couldn’t beat both. It was a good thing Flash was armoured as well, otherwise that could have been really bad.

As it was, the impact didn’t do our guard any favours. Flash was thrown back as the Knight went on the offensive. Flash brought up a leg to stop him in much the same way the knight had done a moment before. Instead of meeting Flash head on, the knight grabbed the outstretched leg, pulled his enemy closer and holding the leg against his armoured chest before pulling Flash into a barrel roll. The knight rolled easily over and back onto his hooves while Flash’s outstretched wings had caught against the ground. The knight wordlessly stepped over and struck the turtled guard across the helmet, knocking him out.

The low clang of hoof against helmet quickly sped up as Colgate ended her spell with a relieved sigh. The Black Knight’s head snapped around to face us as we stood just a couple of lengths away from him.

“If this,” the knight said as he tapped Sentry, “is what amounts to close combat training from a professional soldier; then the Royal Guard is grossly unprepared for what threatens Equestria from within and without.” A brief movement beneath the knight’s cape shook dust from its threads and laid it properly on his armour again. “Take him and go elsewhere, none shall pass my watch.”

“Minuette,” I asked, “bring Flash over and put him on my back.” I didn’t want to get any closer to the knight than I had to, mostly because I didn’t want to have to ask Colgate to replace my teeth.

A blue glow surrounded the unconscious guard and he was lifted up into the air. Beneath him a few feathers and a bit of red was left on the ground. To me it looked like Flash had broken a blood feather during the tumble onto his back.

As the magic released him, I nearly buckled under the weight. “Ugh, how do guards fly in this armour?”

Colgate lit her horn again and stood beside me, moving Flash so he sat across both our backs. “Better?” she asked.

“Much,” I replied with a sigh. “Let’s get going, we’re not going to get any answers here.” At least not without a little bit of sneaking, I figured. There was more than one way to open a lock box.

We slowly turned and started walking away, doing our best to match pace. Before we turned a corner, I looked back over my shoulder, and Flash, watching the Black Knight look at something green on the ground.

As it was, Flash was going to be out for a while, and remain concussed for a good period after waking up. Rather than buying a room at one of the town’s inns, I decided to lead Colgate toward a cheaper alternative. I’d have to visit soon anyway, or risk being physically dragged there later.

Author's Note

For all of you wonderful people who have been waiting for this long delayed chapter, I apologise.
To rattle off my reasons, in order: University Exam/Assignment Crunch Time, Holiday Trip, Minecraft (+200 or so mods), DMing two DnD campaigns (4th and 5th editions), and Minecraft. So much Minecraft.

On a more interesting subject: Try to guess which character inspired Sod Turner.

The Pony With a Plan

We left town on the western road with the unconscious, but still fully armoured, Flash Sentry laid out dumbly across our backs. It wasn’t pleasant for either of us; Flash’s tongue was lolling out over my shoulder and drooling spit on my coat while Colgate had to deal with Flash’s tail end.

Neither of us wanted the other to suffer, but while I did my best to take as much of Flash’s weight as possible, Colgate tried to outdo me. The end result was us competing to share more of the load either by stretching ourselves taller to the point where we were almost walking on the tips of our hooves, or one of us dropping down to tire out the other. If Flash had been awake we’d have quickly made him seasick with all the rocking back and forth he was getting.

“I can just carry him with my magic, you know,” Colgate offered while rolling her eyes in the direction of her horn a few times.

“You used a fair bit of it doing the slow motion replay of that fight,” I replied. “Let’s not give you a magic migraine from carrying him.” I gave Flash a bump up for good measure.

“He’s not that heavy,” Colgate countered. “And I’m less likely to drop him.”

As much as I loved carrying Hurry-Up-and-Wait, there was no real way to convince Colgate otherwise so I said, “Take him then.” A humming sound filled the air as the blue glow lifted Flash off our backs and into the air in front of us. The guard had a distinct ragdoll-ish quality to how he hung in the air, but stabilised as Colgate switched her hold around to have him hovering along in the air in front of her while facing forward.

Colgate gave me a smile. “See? Not that hard,” she said, flapping Flash’s wings.

“Now you’re just showing off,” I replied grouchily. Colgate just stuck her tongue out at me before accelerating into a graceful canter. I rolled my eyes and kept pace with her, skipping the additional hip swaying and tail tossing she was doing.

Colgate was still too busy showing off the superiority of the unicorn tribe a few minutes later when one of my ears twitched. I rotated my ears around, trying to pick up the sound again. A moment later I thought I heard a voice on the wind. “Do you hear that?” I asked.

“Hear what?” Colgate said as she turned her head toward me, the hum coming from her horn subtly changing as she reoriented her magic. We looked around, then having seen nothing in sight, I looked up.

Above us somepony green was swooping out of the sky, with his wings constantly flapping to slow down. The pegasus landed directly in front of us, still flapping hard enough to kick up wind and dirt into our faces. The reason for the sandblasting we got was explained by the full-size saddle the pegasus wore. The saddle wasn’t a decorative accessory but one with the heavy strapping needed to safely carry somepony without wings.

A ripping of Velcro heralded the passenger as he stepped down onto the ground. With a few cracks from his old joints, Mayor Sod Turner grinned at us. Nodding at his pilot Sod said, “Thanks, Ollie, you can sleep in tomorrow, I won’t need picking up.” The pegasus grinned, opened his wings and took off again straight up into the air.

Finally turning to us, the first thing Dad asked me was, “What happened to the cloud lover?” while nodding to where Flash still hovered in Colgate’s magic.

“Picked a fight with the Black Knight,” I answered and nothing more needed to be said.

“Oh, brilliant idea there,” Dad said as he rolled his eyes, with a slight curling of his upper lip heralding a potential rant if somepony didn’t head him off. “What kind of stupid, featherbrained training does—”

I coughed loudly. “Dad,” I chastised while nodding toward Colgate.

“Oh, hello, Miss Colgate,” Sod said courteously with a slight inclination of his head, “it’s nice to see you again.”

“Nice to see you again as well, Mayor,” Colgate replied with another nod.

Dad nodded back again before turning his attention back to me. “Time, have you found anything out about Page yet?” The old Sod didn’t look worried, but the fact he was even asking about my little sister was telling.

“The Knight said he was protecting her,” I replied. “So I think she’s still in the theatre.” I looked around for a moment before saying, “I’m planning on finding out about it for sure tonight, but...” I looked toward Colgate.

“We have a problem there,” Colgate said before bringing her Raggedy Flash puppet around to her face, deftly opening Flash’s eyes and looking in. “I don’t think Flash is going to wake up for a while,” she said before diagnosing him, “He’s got a pretty bad concussion.”

Giving the limp guard a sympathetic look, I asked Dad, “We were hoping you and Mum could look after him for a while.”

Dad snorted. “I don’t know if I’d be any help, but Honey won’t mind since you’re finally coming home. Come on,” he said while turning back down the path, “dinner will be nearly ready.”

Colgate and I followed, with Flash still between us, as Dad led us on. The scenery around here was still somewhat familiar to me, with the little cobblestone walls dividing fields of grass and rows of trees cunningly placed to act as windbreaks. Though I couldn’t help but feel that the sight was still somewhat different from what I remembered.

“So, Dad,” I opened saying, “why were you using that pegasus as a mount?” Colgate snorted loudly and nearly dropped Flash. I gave Colgate a curious glance while the old Sod didn’t seem to notice.

“Because I wanted to join the mile high club,” Sod said out loud without looking back and Colgate giggled a little. “He’s still young enough to get me up,” he added neutrally. “And he’s fine with having somepony strapped on to him,” this time he had a little more edge to his voice while Colgate was giggling a little louder. “He’s always hanging out at the office, and he has enough stamina to go the distance.” The giggling still hadn’t stopped.

Dad stopped to bring a hoof to his face. “Time, are you sure Miss Giggle Fits here is still a virgin? Because she’s definitely got a filthy mind,” he finished while shooting her a scowl.
Colgate’s humour slowly dissipated into a purplish blush on her cheeks.

“She wasn’t making the jokes,” I countered. “Anyway,” I continued with a sly look on my face, “why did you pick a saddle and not a chariot?”

Dad’s eyes narrowed at me. “Chariots are expensive, and Ollie already had the saddle.”

“Really?” I said while tilting my head to the left. “I wonder why he had one; it’s not something pegasi generally have lying around.” A smile crept across my face. “Well, not most pegasi.” One notable exception crossed my mind, although she’d never used a saddle with me.

Dad scowled as he turned to walk away, and said over his shoulder, “I’ll buy a bloody chariot then. Not like I can’t afford it.”

We fell back into following my father, climbing up a short rise that looked down on the family farm. As we crested the hill I took in the sight: a windmill spinning in the distance behind the farmhouse, a cobbled together limestone barn that had been expanded and renovated during its long history. The newest addition was a small orchard of fruit trees and flowers beside the house in the patch of ground normally reserved for a farming family’s personal food crop. Surrounding all this was fields of green grass, a sight that didn’t sit well with my memory of home.

“Dad,” I asked, “what happened to all the wheat?” My family had been wheat farmers since the land had been bought generations ago. The land had always been too good to waste on growing grass to make hay when it could handle better crops.

“Canterlot stopped buying,” Dad grumbled. “The toffs got their hooves on some study that said baked goods made them fat and so trend went against us.” Dad looked over his shoulder toward Canterlot, just visible over the valley wall, and scowled. “All the bakeries started going under once the sycophant sortie started.”

Colgate gasped. “Did Pony Joe’s doughnut shop close?”

Wait, what? My mental process tripped over itself and tumbled to a halt. Colgate’s wide eyed expression conflicted with everything I thought knew about her. I blinked a few times before asking, “You, a dentist, like a doughnut shop?”

Colgate smiled sheepishly. “Mostly for the coffee,” she admitted. “It was cheapest in Canterlot, and as black as a space-time singularity.” Scratching her neck she finished, “I wouldn’t have been able to get through my last years at Celestia’s school without it.”

“Just coffee?” I asked seriously.

“And his cinnamon scrolls,” she added weakly.

“A dentist, how interesting,” Sod mused while giving me a curious glance. Once he’d finished, he gave Colgate a sympathetic look and said, “Don’t worry about Pony Joe, he’s still in business. You can thank the Royal Guard for that,” he finished with a chuckle.

“As I was about to say,” Dad resumed, “without the specialist bakeries, we couldn’t keep up with the larger flour producers and we started bleeding financially. But,” he continued with a self-congratulatory note, “I wasn’t going to follow so many other failed farms into denial-fuelled oblivion. No, I changed my crop to something better.”

Colgate gave me a worried look, and I could do was shrug my shoulder resignedly. It was too late to stop it, and the best course now was just to keep quiet and follow Dad on his walking rant.

“Those pointy twats up in Canterlot have one problem they’ve never been able to solve without hiring an earth pony: lawn maintenance.” Dad continued while ignoring the unimpressed look from Colgate, “Soil’s shallow up on a mountain, and most unicorns couldn’t keep a potted plant alive, let alone the management needed to grow a good lawn. So I grow it for them,” Dad said as he stopped to sweep his legs out and majestically gesture to the surrounding fields. “The green grass of the Old Valley: grown on rich soil and good enough to eat. We cut it up along with the dirt, roll it up with some ice, send it up on a train, and lay it down in just a few hours. Then we bring the dirt we dug up from Canterlot down here, restore it, and grow the next lawn.”

Dad then turned back and gave me a broad smile and finished by saying, “Thirty-eight percent of the grass in Canterlot today was grown right here in these fields.”

My eyebrows rose on their own, I was genuinely impressed. Colgate was more sceptical, asking, “What about the Royal Gardens?”

“That’s around fifty or so percent of Canterlot’s greenery,” Dad replied while rocking on his hooves. “We haven’t got that contract yet.”

“Hmm,” I began, “I suppose that’s how you were able to afford to run for mayor.”

Dad scoffed, saying, “It wasn’t even hard.” Then he started striding off toward the farmhouse while going on about ‘weak willed politicians’.

“Do you like it?” I asked while gesturing toward the white limestone cottage. The slightly worn rounded block shape of its architecture probably appealed to somepony of Colgate’s profession.

“It looks like a molar from the rear quarter,” Colgate responded as she tilted her head before adding, “on the right side.”

“Come on,” I said as I started forward. “It’s time for a check-up.” Walking through the front garden we passed several flower beds, many with bees hovering over them. Beyond the heavy front door of the farmhouse was a hallway of cold stone floors covered by rugs, white walls, and a ceiling of floorboards resting across huge wooden beams that ran across the hallway and into the next room.

Dad walked in toward the kitchen calling out, “Honey, I’m home, and we’ve got guests!”

Colgate looked around with a sort of distant, pensive look on her face while I flipped my hat onto a hook by the door. “There are a lot of pictures,” Colgate said as she nodded with her horn down the white entry hallway. The walls were speckled with hanging images both painted and photographic. Most of the pictures showed ponies in various periods of their lives, often in front of new buildings, farm equipment, and other such things.

“History,” I replied as I eyed a few of them myself. “The house has been here a long time, and the visual records of both the town and farm are hanging here. You’d have to check the inscriptions to know what’s being shown.” Giving Colgate a frown I admitted, “I can’t even name a quarter of these ponies.”

Colgate nodded and added, “My family has something similar, in the lobby of our private mausoleum.” A grimace crossed her face. “I always hated visiting that place, knowing it was waiting for me.”

“A self-fulfilling prophecy,” I responded darkly and Colgate nodded glumly in return. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was still there given Colgate’s past, and what other family ‘bonuses’ she’d once had.

The conversation in the kitchen was interrupted by a happy gasp and the sudden appearance of an old mare in the kitchen doorway. The black in her large-bun styled mane hadn’t faded while the brown had turned to grey, but the deep gold of her coat hadn’t changed at all. She brightened as Colgate and I looked back. “It’s been such a long…” she said, as she lurched toward me. A moment later and my mother had me in a hug while Colgate and Dad watched.

Long seconds later we broke apart and Mum looked up and down me, presumably marking every little difference she saw. “I still have every postcard you sent home,” Mum told me with a tinge of relief in her voice, “and I want to hear all about your travels.”

A brief hint of a smile crossed my features. “I haven’t really done much traveling the last couple of years. The rolling stone is starting to grow some moss,” I said resignedly.

Mum returned the smile I gave her. “Finally settling down? So then this would be…” she trailed off as she looked over my shoulder at Colgate.

“Ah,” I said with realisation, before stepping backward to do introductions. “Mum, this is Minuette,” I pointed out, “my latest traveling partner, and she’s carrying,” I pointed up at Flash, “Sergeant Flash Sentry, our unconscious escort.”

“Hello,” Colgate greeted my Mum with a wave after the introduction.

“Hello,” Mum said back before asking, “what happened to your guard?”

“He tried to get past the Black Knight when we went to find Page,” I replied by way of explanation. Mum’s ears shot up straight at mention of my younger sister. “And, Minuette,” I continued with introductions, “This is my mother Honey Mead; you can guess how she won Dad’s affection.”

“She’s able to survive his rants?” Colgate quipped and earned a warning hum from Sod.

“Wait a minute,” my Mum interrupted. “Time, you’re looking for Page? Did something happen?”

Dad stepped forward to talk to Mum. “Honey, Time’s been asked to find Page because somepony reported her missing.”

Mum blinked. “I thought Page was on tour with the Trottingham Company in Manehatten,” she said with a worried tone starting to rise in her voice.

“We asked the Black Knight,” Colgate spoke up. “He’s indicated that your daughter’s actually at the theatre, but he won’t let anypony in to confirm it.”

“And nopony,” I added with a nod up at Flash, “gets past him.” A few glances went up toward the armoured and unconscious guard who still hovered magically in the air.

“Unless you’re with the main character in the play,” Dad added off hoof.

“I can’t say I’m that,” I said while rolling my eyes. “But I’m hoping there’s another way into the theatre.”

“Aye?” Dad asked with interest.

“Remember the civil war nine-hundred years back,” I said while pointing a hoof at him and with an uplifting tone asked, “How did neutral Trottingham survive the griffon raiders while both sides of the conflict were busy?”

Dad’s eyebrows went up as he worked it out. “They hid in the caves beneath the Horseshoe Theatre and brought it down behind them.” He scratched his chin in thought. “But it was dug up again when the town was rebuilt...”

“So,” Colgate said to me, “You want to find a way in through the caves.”

“Yep,” I confirmed. “But we’ll need one of the surveyor maps that all the farmers used to have of the caves to find a way in.” I gave Dad a smile and said, “Do you have one around here somewhere?”

“I’ll go check the office,” Dad said as he turned to leave.

“Time, you shouldn’t go down there. The caverns are dangerous,” Mum said worriedly. “Most of them are flooded, and who knows what could be living in the rest.”

“Honey,” Dad said as he turned back to put a hoof on Mum’s shoulder. “Last time there was a monster in the caverns was that lamia a decade and a half ago.”

Mum huffed, “Yet every foal that goes down there on some silly dare says they see some monster or another.”

“Was it the snake-pony type of lamia or the pony-made-of-beetles type of lamia?” The out of place question threw the discussion out of the saddle for a moment as we all turned to look at Colgate.

“It’s kind of important to know,” Colgate said matter-of-fact. “There are whole subtypes of beauty cursed monsters that go under that name, and they all need to be tackled differently.”

“What?” I asked.

“Some of them use illusion traps, or spit poison,” Colgate explained, “So I need to know what to ward against.”

“And I thought you were just a dentist,” Dad asked while giving Colgate a respecting look.

“She was training to be a magus,” I explained with a half sigh.

Colgate nodded. “We had a whole subject at Celestia’s School for using magic against monsters; the Monster Manual was our primary text.”

Mum blinked and sounding somewhat horrified she said, “They teach fillies and colts how to fight monsters at school?”

“Why not?” I said with a shrug. “It makes sure that there are ponies that know how to deal with them out among everypony else, and when it’s needed they can help make sure it’s done properly.” Frowning I added, “And if a few students show high potential, then they’re probably worth the extra training to go professional.”

Colgate nodded. “They offered me a spot in an extra credit class. Twilight took it, so I did too.”

Dad hummed. “Clearly the filly’s a keeper, Time.” Turning around he added, “I’ll just go get the maps, back in a minute.” He turned a corner and left Mum with Colgate and me.

An awkward moment passed before my mother asked. “So, Minuette, what sort of extra credit classes were you given? Some form of combat magic?”

It took a moment for Colgate to respond, saying, “We weren’t really taught combat magic per say, beyond just gathering mana and releasing it toward something. We mostly learnt how to use our existing talents and spells in self-defence.” She slumped slightly before admitting, “I didn’t do too well in those classes, because I didn’t have a specific talent in magic or pyromancy to work with. But I beat most everypony else in puzzling my way out of problems.”

“Twilight still beat you in that?” I asked off hoof.

Colgate’s mouth took on a small smile. “In magic yes, though she always had trouble finding the right spell to use from her huge library, and while she stalled I’d use one of my favourites.”

I gave Colgate a knowing look and asked, “How much longer did it take her?”

“Long enough,” she replied innocently.

There was a creak from deeper in the house, followed by the final slam of a door shutting. Colgate and I turned to look down the hallway, Mum sighed quietly to herself before saying quietly, “She’s finished already?” to herself.

A frustrated voice echoed down the corridor, saying, “We ran out of grain again.” A door slammed. “The Flower Power twins came up short again, and now they want to—” The tirade stopped as the new arrival stepped into the corridor in front of us. She sighed dramatically and announced, “Now my idiot brother’s returned. Fantastic.”

“Hello, Mill,” I said warmly. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Through Mill’s drooping eyelids I saw her look at me, then at Colgate, up at the hovering tin can, and then back to me. “Okay,” she said gratingly, “I assume there’s some sort of joke here, or are you trying to hide a body?”

Beside me Colgate grimaced, her ears pinned back against her mane. “A body?” she asked. “Why would you think he’s dead? He’s just…” Colgate hung on the description for a moment.

“Sleeping off a concussion,” I added helpfully.

“You’re letting him sleep it off?” she accused me, before pointing at Flash and continuing with, “Look at how his tongue’s lolling out.” Sure enough Flash’s tongue was hanging out the side of his mouth with a dollop of greenish mucus hanging comically from the end of it.

“Oh,” Colgate gasped. “I haven’t been paying attention.” Flash’s mouth quickly returned to normal.

A loud groan came from Mill. “Has he woken up or done anything since he was knocked out?” When neither Colgate nor I responded to her, Mill stepped forward and pointed through the lounge arch. “He’s probably slipped into a coma then. Put him on the sofa and I’ll look after him.”

Colgate reluctantly obeyed, following Mill into the lounge with Flash as my older sister complained under her breath.

Looking over at my mother I asked, “What’s wrong with Mill?”

Mum gave me an apologetic smile. “She took over the mill and most of the farm after your father became mayor. She’s been having a lot of trouble finding customers for the mill.”

I briefly checked Mill wasn’t in earshot before quietly saying, “Sounds like she’s on the edge of cracking.”

Mum gave me a slow nod. “We’ve been worried about that too.”

“I’ve seen it before back in Ponyville, my friend’s sister Applejack—”

Before I could finish the warning, my father returned and tossed me the map he’d been holding in his mouth; naturally I’d been forced to catch it in mine. “That’s the latest, and I got old ones going back for centuries.” Dad nodded at the tubes hanging out at satchel on his shoulder. “Bring your marefriend. Some of these are going to need the magic touch.” Dad turned to go into the kitchen.

I peeked into the lounge room arch where Colgate was taking off Flash’s armour at the direction of my sister. After putting my map tube onto the ground, I called in, “Minuette, we’re going to need your help with the maps.”

“Be there in a moment,” she called back while keeping her focus on opening the tin can. After picking up the map again, I followed my father down the hallway and around the corner into the combined kitchen and dining area.

The kitchen area can only be described by looking deep into a thesaurus and pulling out the word ‘anachronistic’ – a favourite of mine. During the very long history of the house after its conversion from the ruins of a cobblestone barn centuries ago, the kitchen has undergone at least a dozen renovations. Some features are from previous incarnations, others are new, and in a few cases a feature has returned from multiple generations of absence. The end result is a composite where despite the countertops being replaced in every renovation, the kitchen still has a sense of age in which an old wood-fired oven can stand next to a modern stove and seem like a reasonable idea.

Yet despite the repeated renovations, every recent generation of owner has expressed disappointment in the lack of an automagic dishwasher.

Dad flipped his carry bag of poster tubes onto the old solid mahogany table, and then growling as one of the tubes rolled off the other side of the table. The tube rolled toward the other entrance to the kitchen where Colgate picked it up as she came in after helping to lay out Flash properly.

With more care, I put my tube down on my side of the table before saying, “I knew you had a map, Dad, but I didn’t think you’d have a half dozen.”

Dad grunted. “Surprised me too to find them all up in the attic. We must have every edition since the first survey.” A mild look of surprise crossed his face has he read out the date off one tube, “This one’s four-hundred years old.”

I checked mine and replied, “This one’s just a decade old.”

Dad looked over at it. “They did that one after removing the last monster to call the caves home.”

Colgate took a pair into her magic and looked closely at hers. She recoiled briefly and read out, “The ‘True and Complet Map of The Moste Faschinating and Gllittering Caverns under Trotting-in-the-Vale’. This is absolutely ancient.” The magic around Colgate’s horn intensified and she closed her eyes in concentration.

“Something wrong, Minuette?” I asked curiously.

“I’m trying to remember the archival spells I learnt back in school,” she replied with her eyes still closed. “As old as some of these are, they need protection or they’ll fall apart.”

Dad stopped trying to open his four hundred year old tube. “You might want to do this one too when you have a moment.”

“While you’re busy with the older ones, I’ll open this,” I said before putting the tube between my fore-hooves and using my teeth to pull the tab on the cap. It opened with a satisfying pop and I tipped the map out onto the table.

Dad came around and we poured over the map. It showed a huge system of caverns and connections, most prominently those around the underground river that had been slowly carved out as it ran through the centre of the valley.

Dad pointed to a mark over one of the tributary streams. “This is the well out back of our house. It drops the bucket right into the water.”

“Doesn’t sound like a safe entrance then,” I murmured as I searched around for indication of where the theatre was located. Tapping the top of the map, I added, “Assuming this is north, this should be where the town is.” I tapped another area to the east that where all the caverns around the town were marked as ‘historical’. None of the historical caves were very detailed.

“Nopony’s allowed in that section anymore,” Dad explained. “After a cave-in shook the town awake a few decades back, the Royal Geological Society slapped a no-go on those caves. Some rubbish about how the weight of the town could collapse it at any time.”

Colgate looked up from her map collection. “Is it even safe for us to go down there then?”

Dad snorted. “The river moved away from there millennia ago, and most of the remaining rock is flint. If it was going to collapse, it would have already.”

“We’ll be extra careful then,” I said as I started to roll the newest map up. “Colgate, how are those maps going?”

“The oldest one is ready,” she said as she floated the ancient tube over. Ancient enough, as it turned out, for the pull rope that opened it to have rotted away entirely. Thankfully Colgate easily managed to open it for us when we pointed this out to her.

Insisting on only using her magic to hold it, Colgate then brought the map out and unfurled it. All three of our jaws dropped as we saw it. The map was incredibly detailed, with notes appended to every section and markings noting out differences in distances where a map scale had been made useless.

Colgate focused on a series of notes in the top right corner, reading out, “Water Ball and Moon Mystery present their life’s explorations of the Caverns of Trotting-in-the-Vale”.

I nodded, with an impressed hum. “Somepony definitely got a cutie mark doing this.”

“Or turned into a seapony if some of this is to be believed,” Dad noted while pointing to the section where the underground river ran. “These sections are marked as being entirely underwater. Time,” he asked, “check these against that map of yours; I don’t think half of these branches are on that one.”

I sighed and unrolled the newer map again. Sure enough, the newer map finished in the flooded section with a ‘Tunnel Flooded’ and said nothing more. Dad found this relatively amusing and continued spouting about the differences in detail. While he amused himself and continued complaining about the decline of the responsible government institutions, Colgate and I continued searching for our route.

My mother and sister walked in once or twice. Mum made sure a pot of tea and scones were available on a kitchen bench away from the maps, while my sister was slowly collecting bedding materials to make the unconscious Flash Sentry the guard of his very own pillow fort.

After running some comparisons with the current town map, we managed to locate a small grotto of dry caves beneath the Horseshoe Theatre. One of the ancient map’s authors had made a note here stating, ‘Here voices taketh a ghastly note, echoing with sounds of a battle thrice fought ‘gainst reivers seeking meat for the fires above and finding none.’

Colgate pointed at the passage and meekly asked, “Do you think griffons actually…” she said before trailing off on the difficult thought.

“They did,” I replied directly, “and might still do. Every time I’ve met a griffon from the actual Griffon Kingdoms I’ve always had the nagging feeling that I should be galloping in the other direction.”

Colgate winced and her ears flattened, and my dear father decided to add in wryly, “At least you know the Griffonians are out to get you, it’s much harder to guess why a Westmarch Griffon is staring at your flank.”

Colgate’s expression went from one side of disgust to the other while collecting an extra two-hundred bits as it passed ‘Go’. After a brief pause she spoke up, with an acidic hint to her breath to say, “Let’s please just find a way down there.” My Dad grinned through his stained and worn teeth.

Working our way out from the grotto on the map we found a few entrances marked, however none of the nearby entrances appeared on recent maps. Further out, there were a few wells, which were immediately dismissed because they opened directly into flooded areas. The best option we could find was an open pit halfway out of town that was marked on the ancient map with the words, “Undone by fire and hubris, an excellent entrance created in attempt to remove a destructive varmint.” The pit had afterwards become the destination of a long line of dares and wagers between ‘scaredy’ fillies and ‘brave’ colts. A certain Siren once encouraged me to go in there myself many years ago, the first of many such requests I’d received over the years.

“Here,” I said while tapping the entrance on the map.

Colgate looked at it and then checked against the more modern map and after a moment read out, “The path to the grotto from there is marked: ‘Dangerous. Passage unstable, do not enter’.”

“They all are,” I replied. “It just means the surveyors didn’t want to go under the town.”

Dad nodded and added, “That entrance is also where half of the town’s monster reports come from. It would have been filled in decades ago if the Theatre hadn’t been so dead set against it.”

Colgate and I glanced at each other. “Well that’s interesting…” I opined aloud.

“Do they have a reason?” Colgate asked.

“They like the breeze through it, or something,” Dad replied. “I never really cared.”

After mulling it over for a moment I said, “I bet they smuggle stuff through there.”

Colgate hummed. “I was going to say that some of them probably use it to sneak out at night. Senior students at my school did it all the time.”

“There’s got to be a way in through there then,” I added before asking, “Dad, do we have any caving gear?”

It turned out that we didn’t have any caving gear, at least not in the easily accessible parts of the attic storage pile. Dad managed to find a long length of rope hanging from an old nail, though, and that basically covered everything I thought we’d need.

Colgate on the other hoof, being more safety inclined than me, stated that helmets were a requirement for this sort of expedition. Unfortunately, Dad didn’t have any hard hats with torch mounts around, so we were forced to go with some filly sized helmets for roller-skaters. I found myself stuck with an ancient Wonderbolt emblazoned helmet that didn’t fit properly even with its straps run out to full length. Colgate found something in a more suitable blue, but it wasn’t fitted for a unicorn and Colgate was forced to wear it pushed back to get it around her horn.

“I fwll rdkluss,” I grumbled through my immobilized jaw, shortly before a blue glow seized the buckle beneath my chin and snapped it open. Suddenly free of the brain squeezer I gasped and sucked in the precious cool night air.

Clearly not appreciating my dramatics, Colgate magically slapped my helmet forward saying, “Stop acting so foalish.”

Chuckling, I replied, “Blame the helmet then, it’s taking me back to when I was eight.” I tipped the helmet forward off my nose and onto a hoof to see it in the moonlight. “Never really was a fan of the Wonderbolts,” I said as I looked at the picture of a long retired captain only somepony obsessive like Rainbow Dash could name. “But it seemed cool enough to impress somepony.”

“Like who?” Asked Colgate from just in front of me, her tone only interested in keeping a conversation going as we walked down another unoccupied road between farms bordered with dry fieldstone walls.

“A pegasus, I assumed she’d be impressed with Wonderbolts merchandise.” I rolled my eyes at my own youthful naivety. “Turned out she’d never seen a show or really heard about them.”

We walked for a few more minutes in silence since Colgate hadn’t given me a response, until she finally asked, “Was it Siren?”

“Good guess,” I congratulated. “How’d you come to that one?”

I caught a flash of white that might have been Colgate’s teeth. “You told me back in the drunk tank you had a crush on her. Since you did something goofy it had to be her. ” Her smile disappeared. “Didn’t know she was a pegasus though, that part was a guess.”

“Forgot I told you that one,” I admitted. Rolling that though around in my mind for a moment I muttered, “That was a long time ago.”

“What, last week?”

“Well, that depends entirely on your point of view.”

A few more laneways with progressively less roadworthiness and some vague attempts at background penetrating questions from Colgate brought us to the entrance to the caverns beneath. The entrance wasn’t a fissure or deep sinkhole, more a dugout ramp to turn a hole down into the ground into a primitive well that ponies simply walked down into to reach water. Naturally said primitive times were also back before harmony, friendship, and armoured guards had removed many of the predators from Equestria. Inevitably, more than a few ponies going into the many water holes around here didn’t return – leading to the charming name of ‘murder hole’ which is still used in modern versions of Spear Shaker’s plays.

Naturally neither of us was keen on the idea of vanishing; Colgate turned to look at me quietly for reassurance and I nodded back towards the mark on my flank. Seeming slightly reassured, Colgate gathered herself, lit her horn, and projected her soft blue light down into the cavern. No lamias, diamond dogs, or more monstrous things jumped out at us. Straightening my helmet, I stepped down into the darkness below.

A few lengths down the ramp started to flatten out with a few bumps where water had once pooled ages ago. Stuck without any light, I tapped a hoof against the ground to listen to the sound of shoe against rock, the resulting echo bounced around the cave and gave me the feeling that we’d entered a reasonably sized chamber.

A moment later a light blue beam of light skittered across me, before flicking around the cavern chamber. Colgate gasped in amazement, her torch dancing from one stalagmite to another before focusing on the stalactites on the roof. “This is incredible.”

“It is,” I replied faintly, my own voice filled with awe.

There were a lot of stalactites, hundreds of every shape and size. Water dripped off them gradually, each drop leaving deposits of calcium carbonate leached from the limestone above us each time a pegasus kicked a cloud to make it rain. Several had actually become large enough to join with the stalagmite that formed beneath it, creating pillars. I was looking for any sign of age in the cavern when the light was cut off with a scream from Colgate and a splash of something on my face.

“Back up!”

A reversed analysis of limestone formations later, and Colgate collapsed to the ground beside me, panic in her breath, while cradling one of her forelegs. I stood alert, watching for trouble in the now darker cavern with only the slightest glow from Colgate and completely shot night vision. “What happened?” I asked hurriedly.

“Tripped,” Colgate said through her teeth as she got herself together again. The torch beam returned and fell onto a huge pothole in the cavern floor filled with water. I figured Colgate must have walked blindly into it while watching the stalactites on the cavern ceiling. Colgate refocused her torchlight onto her foreleg as she searched it, asking, “Why does it still hurt?”

“It’s just a phantom pain,” I replied while trying to give her a useless attempt at an understanding smile she couldn’t see. “It might not have happened as far as reality is concerned, but your mind sure thinks it did.”

Colgate stood back up, and breathed in and out as she deliberately placed her hooves on stable ground. In the faint light that Colgate was casting I saw her put pressure on her fore hoof before tilting it forward and back. “The pain is going away,” she said before giving me a slight smile, “I’m okay.”

I looked over, in the dark, toward the pit Colgate had fallen in. “Have you got a better light spell?” I asked. “Otherwise we’ll need to call this off.” Considering we’d already had an accident in the dark, I didn’t fancy going any further from exit.

“Maybe,” Colgate said before frowning briefly. “I haven’t cast this one since school, and I need to use more mana than usual to make it work here.” Colgate took a breath and summoned magic to her horn, and as the glow brightened she scrunched her eyes shut. Just as sparks started to fly, Colgate shot the magic into the air where it rose and then suddenly stopped a half dozen hooves into the air then bounced like a balloon on the end of a string. Colgate sighed in relief and let her horn darken. Around us the cavern was now brilliantly lit in a light blue glow emanating from the light floating above Colgate. “Study light,” she explained, “I dumped something like five times the normal mana in it to get this kind of brightness.”

“Not bad,” I replied while getting another even better look at the cavern we stood in. This time other things became obvious: the pit just in front of Colgate, where the remains of a rope and water bucket sat beside the pool of water. The water was crystal clear, to the extent that I could see the remains of more buckets, tools, and bits that had sunk to the bottom.

“I should have brought a coin to make a wish,” Colgate said aloud as we peered down the hole.

“You’ve probably already earnt one by falling in.” I only received a withering look from Colgate in response, presumably including an unspoken wish.

Looking around, Colgate pointed toward a passageway to our left. “That’s the way to the theatre.”

“Alright then, let’s get going,” I said before starting toward the passageway.

The passage itself was furrowed, perhaps at one point it was a tributary stream to the underground river nearby. That I heard from Colgate, who was happy to describe how caves like this formed as we travelled deeper. Our little adventure seemed to have awoken a few dormant interests in the aspiring magus, and not a side passage went by that she didn’t spend a few moments looking down to see if there was anything interesting to see.

As Colgate rounded another corner ahead of me she froze, before diving back into cover and holding up a hoof to stop me going around. Colgate glanced back at me, a worried look in her eye as she said, “It’s the lamia.”

My eyebrows rose. “Really?” I asked before stepping forward to peer around the corner with my usual insurance waiting for use. A got a quick glimpse of a pale yellow pony and a long golden brown reptilian tail lying on some rocks on the other side of the cavern from our exit.

A moment later I was pulled back by Colgate, who whispered harshly in my ear, “Don’t let it see you.” Looking at Colgate’s face, I could see some genuine fear, the type that comes with an urge to break some speed records in the other direction. That same fear was sitting at the bottom of my barrel, but experience and the reassurance of my Time Turn soothed my mind. I nodded at Colgate then crept forward again.

The lamia hadn’t moved from its resting spot. The only movement I saw was the rhythm of breathing and the very end of its tail tapping the rock beside it. I just watched and waited a few moments while looking for any sign it had noticed us or the light Colgate still had bobbing above her. Colgate crept forward and started looking as well. Soon I found my gaze drifting back to the motion of the lamia’s tail as it rhythmically tapped the rock. After counting the time period between taps it became obvious – to my own sense of timing – that the rhythm was too perfect.

I stepped out of cover, surprising Colgate and walked over to the lamia. Each step closer brought another detail, the gentle clicking, and the gurgling of water. I reached the lamia’s body and looked past it to find a little stream of water held back by the lamia’s bed and the little water wheel it powered to run the clockwork. The lamia was a fake, and a really good one too.

Looking back over my shoulder, I saw Colgate leaning out of cover to watch. I gave her a wave and called back, “It’s fake.” Colgate nearly fell over in relief, before quickly cantering over to take a look at the lamia for herself.

The pair of us started looking closer at the lamia model, Colgate focused on the surface while I took a closer look at the mechanics. The breathing was controlled by a spring-loaded, double-flanged wheel that ran along the edge of a large plate cam: think of a large flat metal egg shape, the edge of which the wheel used as a track – like a train. So as the egg shaped cam was slowly spun by the water wheel the longer pointed edge of the cam lifted the wheel up which pushed up the chest of the lamia to simulate breathing. Once peaked, the spring would keep the wheel on the cam as it dropped away until the next cycle. The tail I imagined used a similar arrangement where the cam struck a lever to make the tapping motion at the end of the tail.

As a clockmaker, I found myself admiring the simple mechanism and the effectiveness of it at putting some life into the model lamia. I was genuinely impressed.

Colgate on the other hoof focused on the surface. “It’s all latex, but it’s been textured and layered so it looks like hair and scale from a distance.” She slapped the skin and produced a sound you wouldn’t get from a pony’s body. “It’s hollow and light though, easy to move and set up.”

I nodded in agreement adding, “The gears were created by somepony that understands clockwork mechanics and had the tools and experience to use them.”

Colgate looked over the contraption and hummed for a moment. “Considering where we’re going, do you think a theatre stage crew could do this?”

I nodded, “It’d have to be a professional prop master, but since we’re dealing with a theatre company that regularly performs on Bridleway they’d have somepony capable of this on staff.”

“Or at least a way to buy something like this,” Colgate added.

“So,” I said as I gave the ‘lamia’ another look over. “Definitely the theatre’s work then. Trying to keep ponies out it seems.”

“We have to be close,” Colgate said as she lit her horn to pull out from under her helmet a small copy she’d made of the ancient map. Her eyebrows furrowed for a few moments as she searched the map and brightened as she turned it around to show me. “We’re in this cavern here, the refuge.”

I looked closer at the map and noted the labelled cavern Colgate pointed out with a hoof. “Why is it called the refuge?” I asked.

Colgate hummed for a moment in thought before answering, “The original map had an inscription saying, ‘Crowded and filled with smoke from wet camp fire, here was refuge sought from dangers above.’ Or something along those lines,” Colgate finished. We both looked around for a moment.

Looking closely, I noticed marks of char and ash on the ground. This cavern lacked the stalactites of the other caves and was sharper around the edges, so water hadn’t flown through here recently enough to remove traces of the past.

“The roof’s covered in soot,” Colgate mentioned.

“From smoke,” I replied. “A lot of ponies used to live down here. This cave’s dry, not too cold, and,” I said while pointing something out on the map, “at the time the only real exit was a thin passage leading to the theatre’s storage caves, where the towns-ponies fled before the griffons arrived during the war.” Looking around, I nodded before adding, “The best place to wait it all out.”

“Which passage?” Colgate asked confused.

I glanced back at the map, then pointed over my shoulder, “the one over the—oh.” Instead of an inviting passageway there stood a weird green – almost emerald – mass on the wall. I glanced back at the map again to be sure. “That can’t be right.”

“It should be there,” Colgate agreed. “That passage appeared on most of the other maps as well.” We glanced at each other and started advancing towards the green stuff. “This shouldn’t be here.”

As we reached it I touched a bit of the green’s edge with a hoof, it was hard but also soft in the same way gold yields if you bite a gold bit. Moving my hoof inwards, the green matter became less crystal and more congealed goo. When Colgate gave the centre a harder press it made the inner mass ripple and left residue on her hoof. Colgate brought it to her nose to sniff it, and wrinkled her nose. “It’s like old toothpaste that’s turned into that film that coats my drainpipes.”

“Looks like it’s blocking our path though,” I said off-hoof while trying to think of a good way to get through it. Colgate paused for a moment and snorted at something funny before taking a step back. I turned my head to look back at her with an eyebrow raised. “Something wrong, Colgate?”

“You reminded me of something Iron Will said.” Colgate lowered her horn as it started to glow ominously bright.

Feelingly slightly nervous I asked, “Uh, come again?”

“If somepony tries to block,” she said with some strain. “Show them, that you rock!” Suddenly a bolt of pure mana shot past me before something popped and splotch of green landed on my muzzle.

“Ugh,” I groaned before wiping the offending muck off.

Colgate giggled a little between pants and quietly said, “Still got it.”

“You know,” I said while checking myself over for more collateral muck, “Fluttershy caused a lot of trouble after saying those words to herself. You okay?”

Colgate glanced up at her horn and smiled. “Oh, I’m fine, just kinda happy to be using my magic properly again. I think I’ve used more magic today than I have in the last couple of years.”

“Happy you tagged along then?” I asked

Colgate breathed in then let it out with a low moan. “Oh yeah. Definitely.”

“Great, because now I’m curious about what’s down this passage,” I said while nodding down the freshly opened path. “Somepony’s gone to a lot of effort to keep ponies out, and I want to know why.”

Colgate nodded. “Lead the way.”

A shiver ran up my spine as we climbed up into another open area of cavern. “Now this place… really feels weird.” I paused for a moment to reach around to my back where, sure enough, all the hair on my neck was standing on end. This particular cavern was partially pony made: brick and masonry columns rose toward a ceiling made of carved flagstone, while the floor was mostly natural stone.

Colgate shivered as well as she caught up to me and said, “Ugh, let me check something,” before lighting her horn. “The magic around here feels tainted almost.”

“The map said the last passage led up to the grotto beneath the theatre, right?” I asked while looking around. There were a few old cabinets, disused furniture, and other things normally forgotten in basements, but what really got my attention was a little chest near our entrance. “Well hello there…” I said quietly to myself as I took a closer look at the lock.

“Yeah, and this looks like it,” Colgate replied to my earlier question. “It’s an artificial cave, right? That’s what a grotto means, and that’s probably the theatre above us.” Colgate hummed to herself. “As for the taint… Turner, was there some sort of disaster here that killed a lot of ponies?” she asked with a bit of worry in her voice.

“Yep, there wash,” I replied around the lock pick in my mouth.

“Wash? What do you—what are you doing?” Colgate said toward my back just as I used my tongue to push down on the lock pick I’d had wedged onto my teeth, levering it up to shift the tumbler at the back of the chest’s lock.

I stood and opened the chest in a single movement. “Investigating,” I replied casually. The chest had opened up to reveal a classic ‘Galloping off to Dodge’ kit intended for multiple ponies: namely small bags of bits, a few saddlebags, some rope, and hats that were in style fifty years ago. “A good villain always has an escape plan,” I said with a smile.

Colgate gave me a withering look. “Are you going to open every chest we pass?”

“Only the interesting ones,” I replied with a shrug. “What were you asking?”

“About whatever tragedy stained the magical aura here,” Colgate asked with a slight weariness. “It takes a lot of fear and death to do this.”

“Less tragedy and more a victory,” I replied. “Red Robin’s Revenge is what you’ll find it called in some of the older history books. During the griffon raid on Trottingham, everypony went down through this passage here to the cave we left. Red Robin waited up here with an old ballista Spear Carrier had found somewhere for one of his plays, then when the griffons found their way down here he fired the catapult point blank into one of the support columns,” I said while pointing at one of the now rebuilt supports. “The griffons were crushed as the theatre above collapsed down upon them, leaving Robin to make his escape down the tunnel to meet the rest of the town. The remaining griffons on the surface were routed a few days later when forces from both Solar and Lunar sides of the rebellion joined forces to remove them.”

Colgate shuddered. “Crushed or trapped under all this, I can see why the aura is so bad.” Looking around she added, “You don’t think this place is haunted, do you? It certainly feels like it could be.”

“Used to be,” I replied off hoof. “The organ might still be around here somewhere.” Then while Colgate tried to figure that one out I took the lock pick out of the chest’s lock and returned it to its hiding place in my tail. Normally I’d just hide them in my hat, but since I had to go with the caving helmet I just hid both picks by wrapping them up in my tail. As long as I didn’t sit on my tail wrong the picks would be fine.

Finished, I stood straight again and started down a likely looking hallway saying, “Let’s find a way up.”

Colgate followed while asking, “What do you mean ‘used to be’ haunted?”

“Well,” I replied with a shrug. “Everypony thought it was just a marketing stunt, but the Trottingham Company of Actors always said the Phantom of the Opera was based on a real story here.”

“That was real?” Colgate said with a gasp. “I love that play.”

A smirk crossed my face. “Good, then you won’t panic if we see a deformed monster down here.”

“Ha, ha,” Colgate replied while giving me a scathing look.

“There must be a way up,” I said idly to myself as I rounded a corner and came to a halt when I saw the huge pipe organ that took up the room. As Colgate came around I called back to her, “here you go, the Phantom’s organ.” Though the impressiveness was somewhat dulled by the pile of boxes around it, containing everything from costumes to props and old seat cushions. Naturally all near the door where they were dropped off in the first available spot.

“Wow,” Colgate said to herself, “I wonder if it still works,” before lighting her horn up.

A chill went through my heart and I went to dash forward to stand between her and the organ hissing, “Wait, don’t!” but with magic being what it is, I wasn’t able to stop her pressing down one of the keys. Instead of a loud note, the organ merely clicked.

Colgate shot me an unamused look. “There’s no air pressure in it. I don’t know what you’re worried about.”

I shot an unamused look right back at her. “We’re trying to find my sister without stirring up the hive, okay?”

“Sheesh, fine,” Colgate huffed. “I won’t ruin your secret mission with any music then.” I gave her the same withering look she’d often gave me, and after a moment a slight smirk shot over her face. “Though, I probably could…”

“Don’t,” I said flatly before heading through the precarious piles of boxes and up a flight of stairs as quietly as possible. Colgate followed behind, and I could swear she was humming something under her breath.

Rough stone turned to masonry, which in turn became brick as we made our way upstairs to the cavernous area behind the stage. A few props waited behind the curtains, all matching whatever performance was scheduled before the theatre closed its metaphorical doors. Quietly I looked around the curtain out into the main chamber of the theatre past the ground level seats toward the open end of the horseshoe shape that gave the theatre its name, and its solitary guard standing like a statue in black armour. If there was one thing I wanted to avoid, it was getting into a tussle with the Black Knight and ending up like Flash Sentry.

A barely audible ‘psst’ got my attention, and glancing over my shoulder I saw Colgate beckoning me over to the doorway she found. She led me through with a nod before quietly using her magic to shut the door. “Changing rooms,” she whispered while pointing along the hallway and toward the regularly spaced doors with golden stars painted on the wood.

Quietly we moved between doors, Colgate using her magic to quietly open them for me to peek inside. A few had ponies asleep, others had some that were reading, or lying in place. A couple noticed us, forcing me to time turn us out of trouble and then waiting for it to pass. Toward the end of the hallway we found a dressing room labelled, ‘Author’, the most promising sign I’d seen yet. I gave Colgate a nod and she opened the door.

Inside, the room looked a lot like I expected. Paper was strewn all over the place and tacked to the walls, the floors were speckled with ink spills, and in the centre of it all sat a pony with a coat the colour of beige paper – like that of an older book. Her mane was an appropriately inky black and her mark was the predictable ‘quill and ink pot’ every writer everywhere had. She was most very definitely the Page Turner I knew and remembered.

Except she was chubbier than I remembered, and all focused around the bottom of her barrel.

“Page…” I said with surprise in my voice.

Her eyes shot from the page and toward me, surprise dawned all over her face. “Time?” Page brought her hooves beneath her, and slowly with an excursion of effort she stood up. Each motion she made wobbled the growth beneath her, drawing both my attention and Colgate’s as well.

“She’s pregnant?” Colgate said from the doorway, at once sounding surprised and pleased.

“I can explain…” Page began before she was interrupted by somepony shouting, “Intruders!”
Instantly I triggered my talent with, “Reset,” and erased my somewhat shocking reunion with my sister. Colgate and I both looked back toward where we heard the shout, and there stood a pony wearing a dressing gown with fear on his face. “Oh no,” I said under my breath and cursed my luck that the Time Turn had come up short.

“Help! Intruders!” the surprised gown wearing pony shouted before Colgate could slow time. He bolted toward the exit, and already we could hear the distant clanking of metal hitting metal like a set of heavy keys.

“Oh withering…” With no other option, I dove through the door calling back “Colgate, in here, now.” Then I shut the door as soon as Colgate had joined me.

“What’s going on—Time is that you?” said a familiar voice.

“Uh…” Colgate answered unconvincingly with, “We’re here to rescue you?”

I was about to try reassuring Page myself, then the bottom dropped out of my barrel as the fast clanking noise reached the door. “They’re in there!” a voice called out. The clanking sound got faster and I jumped clear of the door just before it burst in splintering under the blow from the armoured black figure in the newly open doorway.

Page began to ask what was happening again before the Black Knight shouted, “Miss Page, stay back from them, they’re changelings!” My sister reacted in a snap, diving behind a desk. The knight turned its focus to Colgate and I, lowering the armoured horn mounted on his helm to point it toward us. “I know not what thy plans are, drone,” the echoing voice growled at us, “But you will not bring harm to my charge.”

Over my adventuring years I’ve been called plenty of names, mostly pejorative ones, but I’d never been accused of being a ‘changeling’. “We’re not changelings, or anything but normal ponies,” I replied.

“You jest,” the Knight replied forcefully. “Blood doesn’t deceive so easily, and I shall find it once more.” The knight’s legs shifted to a charging stance. “Prepare yourself!”

As I mirrored his stance my thoughts turned to Flash Sentry’s last fight and how badly it had gone for a fully trained guard – not forgetting whatever else he’d been trained to handle in his EIS role. Not to say that I can’t fight, but the Black Knight firmly outclassed me.

“Minuette,” I said calmly. “Help me.”

Colgate took a deep breath, from where she stood behind me, and just as the Knight started to charge my perception of time slowed to two-thirds of its normal rate. Moving fast enough to follow his movements, I charged forward to meet the Black Knight in a joust.

The Knight brought his head down to point his horn toward me. I lowered my own head, but just before we met I intentionally stumbled and slipped under his attempt to impale me. From where I fell I took the chance to lash out with my hind legs and bucked him in the helmet. The loud clang might have hurt his eardrums, but otherwise my strike had been worthless and the Knight simply took the blow to his helmet before turning to face me again. Unless I could even things up, I was doomed.

“Faster!” I called out just as the Knight began advancing on me again. Colgate howled as more mana spilled from her horn as sparks began to fly, but the knight slowed to a crawl just as he was getting close. I reared up and bit the cover concealing the Knight’s horn and pulled until the entire helm came loose. Throwing myself back I pulled the helm clear off the Knight’s head, intending to buck him in the face as soon as I could manage.

Colgate screamed in fright, and the Clock Up time dilation effect disappeared. The Knight’s helmet fell out of my mouth as I saw what the full face visor had hidden.

He was a monster: black like his armour, his eyes a pupiless solid blue, a jagged and uneven horn, and fangs that protruded from his mouth. The monster hissed at us, his horn lit with a sickly green that seized the caparison cape covering his back and ripped the cloth free to reveal two insectoid wings that buzzed in the air.

The echo was gone from his voice as he spoke again to say, “Further tricks will not avail you, d—” A blast of light blue magic cut him short and threw him backwards.

Colgate puffed from where she stood near Page’s desk. “What is he!?”

“I don’t know!” I said back before a roar of rage drew our attention. The Knight had taken to the air and dove toward Colgate in a wave of green light. Colgate cried out again, and the time dilation resumed. Colgate dove behind the cover of the desk, and as the Knight passed I bucked him into the wall with everything I had. The impact sounded like a gong at this level of time dilation; the sounds were distorted so badly that I couldn’t even hear the Knight curse me as he slid to the ground in the slow motion blur.

As I moved forward to try to incapacitate the knight the time dilation disappeared. My gaze shot to Colgate where I saw her trying to fend off my sister, who had jumped Colgate from behind and disrupted her spell. Before I could do anything to help her I was hit by the Five O’clock out of Canterlot and thrown into a wall. Sliding to the ground I played my trump card and said, “Back up.”

It didn’t go too far back, just a dozen seconds before it stopped and gave me a static shock to the flank, but it took me back to just after I’d thrown the Knight into a wall. The time dilation ceased early this time and I heard the Knight call out, “Miss Page, stop the caster!”

Colgate, forewarned, turned to stop my sister from jumping on her, but she couldn’t keep up the concentration needed to sustain the spell and protect herself. I was on my own.

Turning to face the unmasked Black Knight again, I felt a pit in my stomach form. I was out of options: my Time Turn was expended, Colgate was distracted, and I was very firmly outclassed.

Fear. It’s been a long time since I’d felt fear. There was always something to try, some option left unexplored, but now I had a monster with a kick like a steam train barrelling towards me with no time to create a plan or any trick to pull out of my hat.

This could actually be it.

I tried. I managed to roll away from the hit that would have thrown me into a wall, but the Knight simply looped up and kicked off from the wall to dive down upon me. I was forced to the ground as my legs crumpled beneath me and in the shock that followed I looked blearily up into the featureless eyes of the Black Knight as he said, “The Bards send their regards, Chrysalis.”

Then the hoof came down and everything faded to black.

Author's Note

It's been a very long time coming, a couple of weeks short of an entire year in fact.
In the meantime I've gone through the process of getting a full-time job, continuing University on the side, moving out of home, actually having money, ect, ect.
But thanks to a very moving comment by SliQster and regular encouragement from SelfLoathingChimera, I started gradually giving this story attention again. I'd like it if you'd show your appreciation for these two by flooding their inboxes with replies to the linked comments. I'm sure they'd love it too.
Eventually this chapter resulted, and I plan on following it up at a reasonable rate this time so you don't need to hang off this cliffhanger for too long.

Though I do wonder if anyone has figured out what's happening here...

The Pony Who is Adapting to Changing Circumstances

Darkness took me, and I drifted through thought and time. Texture whirled through existence ahead of me both indescribable and intangible, approaching and then seeming to morph as it came closer before slipping away again. Part of me wondered if I was seeing four dimensional space, time, or just the random firing of concussed neurons creating a poor optical effect in my mind. Another part of my mind suggested opening my eyes to see if it changed anything, experimentation being the key to reason.

With supreme effort, my eyes opened to reveal even more darkness. A thought occurred, had the eyelids actually opened? A neuron sent a ‘please explain’ to the muscles surrounding the eyes which in turn explained that the eyelids had indeed opened, and had promptly closed again because the Central Neural Bureaucracy had failed to submit the request in duplicate for both eyes. The response was that the request had been filed in septuplet to be sure, and that it wasn’t their fault only one request had arrived, and in any case it wasn’t the fault of the CNB that the union didn’t agree with the result of the last pay dispute. The other questioned what the former was even talking about and yet another pointed out that things hadn’t been this bad since the last time the CNB had decreed that those mushrooms had been safe to eat.

Not wanting to attract management, everypony agreed it was time to ‘get on with it’ and the eyes were opened properly while other systems were awoken to bring the consciousness back to the fore.

The darkness remained, though at this point I thought I could make out solid texture in the distance. Still unsure of what had happened I asked aloud, “Anypony here?” The only response was a cry of pain from somepony, it sounded female and I assumed it was Colgate. “Where are we?” I asked.

The first response was another hiss of pain. “Don’t talk,” Colgate’s voice whispered hoarsely at me. “It hurts. Magic migraine...” she trailed off painfully.

Oh, I thought internally. Since I wasn’t in such good shape myself, I didn’t bother to move or speak. Some more time passed and I drifted in and out of sleep. I was still disoriented to the point that I couldn’t keep my normal track of time, and remained so until sounds of an argument drifted through door.

A muffled voice made a point and finished more clearly with, “He is my brother.”

A different voice objected, though I couldn’t make out the argument.

The first voice replied saying, “He’s not going to give up, not until you prove we’re not holding my brother against his will. Anyway, as it is said, ‘the truth shall make ye free.’”

More clearly the dissenting voice retorted, “Truth isn’t such a plain thing to this one.”

The first voice, definitely female, clicked in disapproval. “Don’t fret so much, he’s a good pony, and it’s making your character slip.”

The dissenting voice paused before continuing, “I hope you’re right.”

The polite rap at the door got a squeak of pain out of Colgate before the room was opened, bathing us in light and getting a cry of pain from Colgate. “Put it out, put it out!” A shadow ducked in quickly before shutting the door again softly.

A soft sound of hoof falls came toward me, walking without rhythm, until the shadow stood over me. “Are you awake, Time?” asked my little sister’s voice.

“Page?” I mumbled back “Where am I?”

“An empty room backstage, it’s normally used for visiting acts,” she replied, and before I could respond a pair of hooves seized me, pulling me up from the bed and into a crushing hug.

“Uh?” Something felt off as my sister’s head laid itself across my shoulder and around to the nape of my neck. Page Turner sighed before stiffening slightly. “Page, why are you hugging me?” I asked flatly and Page dropped me back onto the mattress.

Taking a step back, Page answered, “It’s just so good to see you again. It feels like I haven’t seen you in forever, Time.”

“My eighteenth birthday actually,” I replied flatly. “I left home as soon as I was legally an adult. Considering the big deal I made about it I’m surprised you don’t remember.” That said, I swung myself to the edge of the bed and made myself ready to stand, despite the number of aches from the all the abuse I’d suffered.

On the other side of the room, Colgate lifted the pillow from her eyes and watched from across the room.

Not noticing my sister replied, “Mum was dejected for a few weeks after that. She even lost an apiary because she forgot to prepare it for winter.”

I smiled briefly. “Yep, Mum loves her bees, but despite that we were never the most affectionate family; what with Mill trying to beat Dad at his own game, and you being completely absorbed with your books.” The smile fell off my face as I glanced up at Page’s and I added, “You must have discovered the Magic of Friendship or something while I was gone because I don’t think you’ve hugged me before.” Then just for a moment Page froze.

A dim light filled the room and Colgate added, “She’s not pregnant either.” Colgate still held a pillow against her head so she only winced slightly in the light, but she had a hoof on the dim lamp mounted beside her bed.

My ‘sister’ tapped a hoof against the ground in frustration. “Shoot. I didn’t think anypony would call me out on that, it’s not easy pulling that extra mass together.”

“And the hug you gave me?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Couldn’t resist a taste.” She pointed a hoof at me and added, “And you’re wrong about your sister, she’s very affectionate.” The doppelganger looked over its shoulder, “Page, you can come in now.”

The door creaked open and more light filled the room – getting a hiss from Colgate – as the real Page Turner stepped into the room. As expected, Page had the kind of swollen under-barrel you only really see on mares in their twelfth month, and she had some serious baggage under her eyes. She smiled weakly at me and said, “Long you no see.”

“So,” I said as I stood up from the bed, “I know I probably got a heck of a concussion back there, but…” I paused to point out both Pages “…I don’t think I should be seeing double like this.”

The Pages shared a glance and the pregnant one admitted, “We were just being—”

“—cautious,” the other finished. “We’re in the last month of pregnancy here, we don’t want—” she stressed the end of the last word.

“—to risk it,” pregnant Page finished.

My eyes shifted between them. “Cute. So, what kind of shapeshifter am I looking at here: a doppelgänger, an illusionist, some talented costume-work, or perhaps an elder dragon?”

Colgate lifted up her pillow and groaned, “You forgot daemons and barghests.”

I nodded at the inclusion. “Well, neither of them has tried eating my heart yet, but I’m sure they’ll get around to it.”

The two Pages shared a glance, the pregnant one shrugged and without warning the other burst into green fire – getting another yelp from Colgate. The black insectoid thing revealed by the fire looked toward me with solid blue eyes and announced, “This one’s species is broadly referred to by the name ‘Changeling’.”

I stared at the eyes, which looked back at me with their deep blueness. “Haven’t I seen you before? I could almost say…”

Page looked at me. “Are you okay, Time? You’re looking a little wobbly.” Then everypony started watching me, Colgate even shifted her pillow to get a better look.

I blinked and shook my head to wake myself up more. “It’s nothing. Probably just need some coffee to wake up properly,” I said before giving the bridge of my forehead a good rub. “So, you’re a Changeling,” I began again, “a shapeshifter, and you’re in the theatre?”

The black face of the False Page split into a fang filled grin, which was mildly disconcerting. “This one believes you would be hard pressed to find better actors, or anything better suited to filling a designated role.”

“They’re amazing, Time,” Page added, “Give enough characterization to a role and they can slip into it perfectly.” Page’s hoof circled in the air for a moment before she said, “Foil, can you do the princess?”

Without warning the changeling burst into green fire again, dazzling my eyes for a moment. As I blinked my vision back I found the Princess of Love smiling at me. The physical form was good, but it was the mannerisms that sold it: that slight friendly smile Cadance always wore with a mix of big sister and mother, the slight tilt of the head, and the intensity of youth she’d never manage to lose. My heart sped up a little bit.

“Foil, that’s the wrong princess,” Page mentioned. “I meant Princess Celestia.”

Cadence’s smile widened. “Well, you could have been a little more specific, Page. Besides, the Princess of Food is easier to copy.” Cadence leaned my way and held up a hoof to stage whisper, “It’s the height.”

There was a groan from the other bed. “Please stop the lights.”

Cadance looked over her shoulder and winced. Looking back to Page and I she said, “Let me just see to that,” before backing out of the conversation to see to Colgate. My eyes followed Cadance as she crossed the room until I got a tap on my shoulder.

“That’s my somepony, Time,” Page chided me.

I snapped back to Page. “Sorry?”

“You were staring with your mouth open.”

I blinked. “Uh, I was just catching my breath…” Then for a moment my eyes lost focus on Page, but a quick shake of the head brought it came back. “…and…” I trailed off. “Sorry, I’m still trying to make sense of what in Equestria is happening here. You’re here,” I pointed at Page, “and you’re pregnant to what I’m guessing is that… changeling over there,” I pointed over Cadance who was offering a strip of cloth to Colgate. “Which Mum and Dad don’t know about, and I got…” I trailed off. I felt my head, which still had a sort of lightness to it. As I brought a hoof to my left temple I found something wrong, I felt around some more to size out the mass. “…A very big lump on my head.”

“Uh, about that…” Page began. “The Knight said he was trying to take your horn off to stop you talking to the hive mind but… you didn’t have one.”

“Well it’s growing in now… wait a minute,” I stopped to think. I couldn’t actually remember properly; we’d gotten into the theatre, opened a few doors until we found Page, got discovered, and then… things got really fuzzy after that. I looked around, trying to remember something that was right on the tip of my tongue.

A green flash got my attention as the changeling impersonating Cadance returned to its basic form. Thankfully this time Colgate was wearing a cloth over her eyes to stop the light hurting her. The changeling uttered, “An improvement” before lighting its jagged horn with green light to open the blinds and bathe the room in sunlight. My eyes studied the changeling in the new light and something came back to me, the Black Knight with its helmet off had looked the same.

I looked back at Page and asked, “That’s not the Knight is it?”

“No that’s Foil.”

“So there’s more than one changeling here?” I asked.

“Four if you’re not including the Black Knight,” Page replied, “there’s another thirty or so, but they’re all on tour right now in Manehatten.”

“Thirty!” I looked back at Foil, who was rummaging around in a box of clothing, with its body made of what looked like beetle style chitin it couldn’t be any more conspicuous. “Why doesn’t everypony in Trottingham know about them?”

Page shrugged. “The Bards keep to themselves, they’re just the weird theatre ponies to everypony else. Besides,” Page said with a nod toward Foil, “they don’t usually sit around in that form, normally they pick a character they know and live in it for a while.”

While we watched, Foil pulled a lab coat out of the box and burst into green flame again. This time Foil became a unicorn stallion with a soft-yellow coat and put on the coat before adding a pair of thick glasses to complete the look. Foil stepped toward Colgate and announced, “Good morning, Miss, I am Dr Foil and I’m going to examine your horn for you.”

I gave my chin a scratch. “Not bad, he even sounds like a real doctor.”

“Foil’s been practicing the medical routine,” Page added while gave her pregnant barrel a rub. “He wants to be prepared. They all do it, diving deeper into their characters by learning the skills they’re supposed to have. They join harvests, take craft lessons, a few even went to college lectures and disguised themselves as students who normally slept in. They just do everything in disguise and nopony’s the wiser.”

Over on the other side of the room Foil told Colgate, “I’m going to apply pressure to sections of your horn, let me know when it starts to hurt.”

“I still think it would be easier to work out in the open,” I said in reply to Page. “Maintaining all those identities must be harder than creating just one and using it for everything.

I caught a grimace cross Page’s face. “It would be, but they’re afraid of drawing attention.”

“What from the townsponies?” I asked with some amusement. “They’d welcome them in with cake and biscuits once somepony tells the panicking florists to calm down.” I smiled at my own joke for a moment before adding, “Ponies have always been welcoming no matter where I’ve been.”

“It’s not ponies they’re worried about,” Page added cryptically.

Raising an eyebrow I asked, “Then what—“

A yelp from Colgate interrupted us. Dr Foil tutted, “mild infirmata magicae coupled with classical hypersensitivity.” Foil’s horn lit with green – which I noted did not match his eye colour – and drew a pair of wraparound sunglasses from the costume box. “I prescribe these to reduce photosensitivity, a temporary increase in fluids and glucose imbibed, and avoidance of magic use for a two day period.”

“I’m a dentist,” Colgate complained through the muffling of the pillow. “I can prescribe myself.”

Foil harrumphed and replied, “A dentist is not a real doctor,” before pulling the cloth away and putting the sunglasses over Colgate’s eyes without warning – earning another yelp. As Foil turned away from Colgate I found myself trying to picture the fire in Colgate’s eyes as her gaze followed the disguised changeling across the room.

Foil paused and dropped its disguise with another flash of green – this time without a yelp from Colgate – and looked toward Page and me to say, “With these two mobile again, this one suggests moving on as the mayor will likely be losing his patience soon.”

Page and I shared a look and I replied, “Dad’s version of patience usually involves finding a bigger rock.”

Foil stared at me for a second or two before saying, “This one does not understand.”

“He’s mixing his metaphors,” Page added quickly. “But we should probably get over there before Dad does something… Dad.”

“What does he want?” I asked.

Foil continued to stare blankly at me and replied, “The mayor brought a number of what he termed as being ‘goons’ to the theatre this morning to demand the return of both of his children and his son’s ‘giggling tag-a-long’.”

“I’m a what?” Colgate objected.

“You’d both better get down there,” Page said while giving me a nudge.

We moved through the backstage areas of the theatre towards the stage. I could already hear an argument taking place on the other side of the curtain. One of the voices doing a lot of the arguing was the distinctive snarl of Sod Turner, which meant he’d be winning the argument sometime soon.

Foil had us wait a moment while it got an update from somepony standing by the stage left curtains – probably another changeling. The rest of us milled around uncomfortably while the argument on the other side of the curtains continued, where Dad was busy going through a list of his favourite insults.

Looking around I noticed the huge library of costume choices maintained by the theatre, organised by role and shelved by individual positions in the role. For example the ‘Law Enforcement’ role had two sets of royal guard armour with the shelves named day and night with additional shelves holding the additional rank sets, officer helmets, and a pair of trumpets. Another set of shelving labelled ‘Academic’ held a graduation outfit, sets of eyeglasses, and a set of quills. Another shelf set held the role ‘criminal’ with hoof-cuffs labelled ‘escapable’, black and white striped clothing, and a big bag with a $ sign on it.

Foil came back to the group, transforming herself into the non-pregnant look alike of Page mid stride. “We have to go out there,” Foil said, “Dad’s starting to get petty, Face is starting to run down, and I don’t think the Knight’s going to be discouraging enough.”

I glanced over at Colgate, she was looking around for something, and then I asked, “What exactly do you want us to do?”

Foil smiled a little and stood straighter. “We go out there together, Page will stay here, and we’ll tell Dad nothing is wrong and then you all leave so Page can get some rest.”

Colgate looked at the space between me and Foil – it occurred to me that she couldn’t see anything in the dark from behind the sunglasses – and said, “So we call everything off and pretend nothing happened?”

Foil responded with a fast “Yep” while the real Page looked a little unsure.

Over by the curtain the disguised changeling watching the commotion outside waved at us. “We’d better get a move on,” Foil announced and started leading us towards the stage left entrance.

So it’s going to be a cover-up, I thought and then sighed internally.

Whenever ponies are in some trouble they haven’t planned for the first response is always to take the first escape route they see. It doesn’t matter which escape option is better or which improves Equestria more, it’s whatever option can be reached with the minimum amount of effort or cost. The more predatory races call this herding, so I was asking myself, who’s the griffon in all this? as we were led towards the stage.

As soon as Foil stepped around the curtains she paused to look dramatically across the room and called out with, “Daddy!” before bolting off. I managed to round past stage-left in time to see Foil hug her ‘father’ enthusiastically.

The lookout who’d been watching the events from stage-left muttered, “Foil always gets all the love…”

“Hey, Dad,” I said as I made my way over. Mayor Sod Turner had clearly called in a few favours, standing down in the audience pit with a dozen ponies to back him up. Among Dad’s hired goons was Ollie, Smoke Stack the train driver, a few neighbouring farmers I barely remembered, his secretary, and a few construction ponies who’d come with hard hats and power tools. In opposition was a pony standing on the edge of the stage, who I assumed was ‘Face’ and a solitary figure in polished black plate armour standing in the shadowed half of the audience pit, the Black Knight.

Dad returned my greeting with a raised hoof and called back, “Good to see you, Time, and you too, Giggles – nice sunglasses.” Foil continued to hug dad.

Crossing the stage I looked down toward a set of stairs that would lead down to the audience pit and completely misplaced a hoof. One moment I was walking normally, the next I was falling face first onto the stage floor. Colgate darted forward toward me as I stood up easily and gave my muzzle a rub.

“Are you alright?” Colgate asked.

“I’m not sure…” I replied as I took in the faces looking up at me curiously from the audience. I’ve fallen down stairs before, that would have been understandable, but I hadn’t even made it to the stairs yet. I looked behind me for any loose floorboards on the stage.

Colgate asked, “Did you want to…” she finished by rolling her head backward.

“Yeah, reset.” Time reversed, and I climbed back down on the floor to rest my face before spontaneously flying back up like I’d been holding a preloaded spring in my mouth – everything is funnier in reverse. As time resumed I simply came to a stop, just in time for a dizzy spell to hit me and for my balance to disappear. I didn’t fall over on my redo, but it felt for a moment like the stage had been slanted thirty-eight degrees to the right.

Colgate walked up to me again while asking, “Still unsure?”

I blinked my eyes and focused on the end of a floorboard. “I think I’m going to have to get my head looked at.”

While everypony else had been distracted by Foil and Sod’s reunion, Sod himself didn’t miss my sudden pause. “Time, you alright?” he asked, and before I could reply he started to lay into Face, “What have you circus freaks done to my son?”

“We haven’t done–” ‘Page’ began before shutting up when my father’s baleful glare turned to her.

Face tried to take up the slack by saying, “What miss Page was trying to say–”

“Don’t put words into my daughter’s mouth, signpost!” Sod interrupted, “when I care to know the bloody distance to Canterlot I’ll get back to you.” Sod turned his attention back to ‘Page’ and pulled himself out of the hug he’d been in and calmly asked, “What do you mean ‘we’ and what’s wrong with Time.”

“Uh…” ‘Page’ trailed off.

“It’s just a concussion,” Colgate said helpfully.

“It’s nothing,” I hurried to add.

“A concussion is not bucking nothing,” Sod rolled on as more steam started to build. “Now which of you poncy twats used that signpost,” he said while pointing at Face, “to get through my idiot son’s thick skull?”

“Hey!” I said.

“T’was I,” echoed a voice from the side of the audience as the Black Knight finally spoke.

“And I was starting to wonder if you’re just an advertisement for armour polish,” Dad quipped before raising hoof up and deliberately pointing toward the Knight. In a brief, if undisciplined, clatter everypony from outside the theatre turned to face the Knight, some even taking threatening poses.

“Dad! Seriously? I’m not damn hostage.” I called down before somepony did something stupid. “And did you have to bring every stallion in town with you?”

“Oh forgive me for caring about my children,” Dad shot back. “I expected you and Giggles back by breakfast with Page in tow, your mother even got extra honey out of hives so she could make a large enough breakfast. To my absolute bucking surprise nopony showed up, not even that feathered excuse for a guard of yours or my Millie.” Dad was starting to breath more heavily, but didn’t stop glaring at me. “Honey and I waited two hours while the waffles went cold.”

The theatre fell into an awkward silence.

“Uh…,” the false Page began, “…we could go have breakfast now.”

“Explanation first,” my Dad said flatly.

“Well,” False Page began, “I was working on a screenplay when Time came bursting in–”

“That doesn’t explain why I haven’t seen you for a year,” Dad said with a slight growl.

“I had deadlines to meet?” False Page said weakly. “I kinda panicked when Time showed up and so the Knight came to protect me. That’s all.”

Dad sighed. “That’s it then? You had deadlines to meet and you summoned a guard because your long lost brother came to see you.” False Page nodded and Sod Turner seemed to lose all the fire holding him together as he brought a hoof to his forehead. “This has been a complete waste of time then.”

“Didn’t you get my last letter?” False Page asked while Dad’s platoon of goons started milling around and talking to each other idly.

I made my way down the stage’s centre stairway with help from Colgate and we made our way over. “Dad,” I began as we came closer, “where’s Mill?”

Sod turner looked at me wearily. “We don’t know, she disappeared with your guard during the night sometime. She’s probably sharing a haystack or grain bin with him. Must be the only colt in town that isn’t scared of pissing me off.”

I just stared off into the distance, trying to think. There was something nagging me, but I couldn’t put my hoof on it. “Did Mill say anything about Lightning Flash waking up?” I asked.

“It’s Flash Sentry,” Colgate corrected.

I tapped the ground in satisfaction. “I was calling him Hurry-Up-and-Wait wasn’t I? Not much of a guard if the Black Knight was able to knock him out so quickly…” I pointed across the room and stopped as my eyes focused on the Black Knight. As I stared at the Knight, he looked back and began to stare back at me, but what really caught my attention was the blue abyss of his eyes that you could only see through his visor at just the right angle. The eyes were the same as Foil in her native changeling form, and I could just remember seeing them on the Knight just as he was about to kick my head in. “Ow,” I winced to myself just from thinking about it.

“Are you still–” Colgate began while moving to steady me.

“I’m fine,” I interrupted and waved her assistance away. “Does anything about the Knight strike you as being strange?”

“Apart from being a changeling?” Colgate said quietly.

“You noticed?” I said quietly with surprise.

Colgate shot me a worried look. “You don’t remember? You pulled his helmet off during your fight.”

“I…” Thinking back, I did remember doing that, and it still slipped from my mind. “I do, it’s just there’s something not quite…” I looped a hoof around in the air while I thought and my eyes drifted back toward the Black Knight, who was still watching me intently. Fake Page was giving dad a description of what she’d been doing over the last year, the goons were collecting into groups and chatting idly, and Face was standing on the stage looking for attention. “…right.”

I rubbed my forehead trying to get my brain to work, only to have to slam it back down to the floor to steady myself as my vision blurred again.

“Could Flash Sentry be a changeling?” a blue blur asked quietly.

Suddenly my vision came into focus, on Colgate’s face: she looked back at me over her sunglasses, her ears folded back, her horn looked like it needed a bit of filing done, and her mouth was pinched a little on the left. She turned her head a little to the left and asked, “Uh, Turner, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s it!” I kissed her and then yelled it out, “Flash Sentry is a changeling, and has been the whole time!” I spun around in celebration. Everypony was shocked: Dad’s mouth was open before briefly turning to a snarl, Fake Page was absolutely flabbergasted, even Colgate was staring at me with surprise on her face. “Minuette,” I said to Colgate’s surprised face, “this entire adventure was a setup, we were supposed to be a cover for Flash so he could get in here and…and…” I pointed at Fake Page “…why would another group of changelings want to get in here for?”

“Another group?” Dad asked.

Foil-Page looked for side to side before saying, “Are you okay, Time? Because nopony understands what you’re talking about. Changelings are only a myth.”

Colgate moved to stand beside me and retorted with, “Nightmare Moon was a myth too, and so was Discord.” The mention of both sent everypony into collective muttering, much of it directed at the more recent menace.

“Page,” my father began as he put a hoof over Foil-Page’s neck, “you can tell us the truth, even if these changelings don’t want you to.” A serious look crossed dad’s face and he added, “If you feel threatened I can always summon a detachment of guards.”

I was about to make a point about the authenticity of this Page when I was interrupted by a deep echo, “They would likely be more changelings.” I nearly fell over when I saw the Black Knight standing right beside me. “The situation has evolved beyond subtlety, Foil. The Changeling Queen would be aware of our existence now.”

“You can’t be certain of that,” Foil-Page replied, which caused my Father’s face to return to a scowl.

The Knight was visibly unmoved. “The Queen directed a plot toward the troupe, and while the attempt upon us was blunted she has likely inferred our location already.”

“But it was just one—”

“It is never just ‘one’ when changelings are involved,” the Knight interrupted. “I can no longer defend the four of you effectively, seek assistance.” His piece said, the Knight turned away and moved back toward to his spot in the shadows.

Before anyone could question the situation, Dad moved the hoof he had on Foil-Page’s shoulder up around her neck and leant a little closer in to ask, “Now, I may be an old fool that dotes on his daughters too much, but even I know when to ask, what the buck is going on!” Foil winced at the volume on her ear.

“Your theatre’s run by a secretive clan of shapeshifters,” Colgate answered aloud, “and there’s another group of shapeshifters trying to find them. The one you’re holding is your daughter’s…” Colgate trailed off for a moment. “Well marefriend isn’t quite right… Turner?”

“Hmm,” I gave my head a scratch, “transfriend or morphfrend might be more correct, but I wanna say love-bug.”

Colgate giggled. “Yeah, we can go with love-bug.”

“Love-bug is insulting to us,” Foil groused.

Colgate smiled and pushed her sunglasses up her nose. “And I’ve got a bad headache that says I don’t care.”

I glanced over toward Colgate. “Oh you think your headache is bad? I’m lucky my skull is in one piece.” I emphasised the later with a nod, but that just sent my vision blurring again. “Actually I’m going to sit down,” I said before plonking myself on the ground.

Dad rolled his eyes. “If this,” he gave his leg a squeeze around Foil, “is my daughter’s love-bug, then where’s the real Page?”

Colgate lifted a hoof to point behind her at the stage and said, “She’s uhh…” Colgate glanced down at me.

“Anypony got a camera?” I asked aloud. “Anypony got a camera? Anypony?” I looked around for any press-ponies, or that pegasus colt that was everywhere back in Ponyville, but didn’t see any likely volunteers. I gave Colgate a shrug and called out, “Page, come on out!”

The room was silent in anticipation and the slightly heavy hoof-steps of my sister echoed as she came out from behind the curtain. I made sure I was watching dad’s face as everypony in the audience gasped when they saw a young mare in the last few weeks of pregnancy; dad didn’t gasp, but his teeth clenched a little and I could swear that I could see the veins in his eyes as he turned his full bale-filled glare at Foil. His captive seemed to shrink in size as she said, “Uhh, Congratulations?”

Then the shouting began.

Most of the argument between Page, her love-bug, and Dad was a blur to me. Some of the highlights of the argument that I actually managed to remember was Page saying, “All the time, and in every method possible,” and her threatening to shut herself inside the theatre for the rest of her life. I believed the threat, the Page I remember from foalhood was a very shy shut-in that reminded me somewhat of Fluttershy back in Ponyville; though looking at Page now made me think more of Twilight and the way she’d become more socially active since meeting her friends. As Page made her way through Dad’s objections, Foil stood beside her throughout while mimicking Page’s movements and expressions, which I found rather disconcerting but still kinda sweet in a pseudo-romantic fashion.

Eventually Dad relented once he’d got an apology from both Page and Foil for their duplicitous conduct, and extracted a promise for them to go home and visit Mum. All of them seemed better for having gotten some pressure off their chests.

When Colgate asked about the second group of Changelings and what they wanted, Foil responded with, “It’s a long story, give me a minute to talk to with others.” Foil led Face backstage and there was a hurried conversation.

Then a drum roll began.

A spotlight lit up and hit the curtain on the stage, while pulled back to reveal Foil in her disguise as Page. She stepped forward, cleared her throat, and announced, “The Bards of Trottingham are proud to present, A Brief History of the Changeling Bards.” Then Foil exploded.

There were gasps, which were quickly repeated at the sight of Foil’s true insectoid form. As openings for plays go, it was a fairly good way to get the audience’s attention.

“This one is a changeling, it is a statement of fact,” Foil continued once everypony ran out of gasp. “To be a changeling is not to be, a that, a question.” Foil burst into flame and emerged as Princess Luna – but shorter than the real one. “A changeling can be via minor effort anything, but while still naught.” Foil returned to her native form again, opened a set of transparent wings and buzzed over to the side of the stage.

“There is but one among changelings, the Queen.” The curtains opened again to reveal another changeling, this one wearing a green wig and gaudy golden crown. The Queen stepped forward and the curtains closed behind her, then two more changelings raced out from behind both curtains and took places beside the queen. “All others are drones carrying out her will,” Foil continued to narrate as the Queen lifted a hoof and the two drones copied her every move.

“The Queen sent them forth to collect fear,” narration continued as the queen pretended to roar, making the drones change form into a manticores to duplicate the movement. “And despair,” followed by the drones changing into depressed looking ghosts. “But the emotion she demanded the most was the most powerful of all, love,” which caused the two changelings to become ponies, meet in the centre of the stage and kiss passionately.

“But one mind could not easily seek love when she must control so many.” The Queen changed her position on stage, neither drone followed so the Queen coughed loudly. The two drones broke up their love fest, but as they began following the Queen one began to slowly walk in circles until the Queen returned for it. “So for the want of more love the Queen created new, intelligent drones.”

The Queen hit the misguided drone on the head a few times and gave it a hat. Then the hatted drone asked, “What do you ask of this one, my Queen?”

“Go forth and bring me love, Infiltrator, so I can grow my hive further,” the Queen hissed in reply. In response the drones went behind the curtain and soon two hat wearing drones returned with a throne, chocolates, and strawberries. With these tributes the Queen sat and began to feast while the two drones looked on, joined by Foil wearing a beret.

“Look at that,” a cap wearing drone groused. “We do all the work, and she consumes it all.” The Queen then very deliberately tipped the whole plate of strawberries into her mouth.

“This should not stand,” the second drone – wearing a top hat – said. “We are intelligent, sentient beings, are we not entitled to the sweat of our own brow?”

“Yeah,” said the cap wearing one.

“I would like a strawberry at least,” groused the beret wearing Foil.

Top-Hat snorted. “Neigh, we should have chocolate as well.”

Cap snorted in support and said, “She could easily share that much with us, if we’re better fed we might be able to get more food, and get more infiltrators to help us.”

Top-Hat tapped a hoof in support, “Indeed, but if we simply cut her out of the loop we could all have more without having to work harder!”

“We don’t need to cut her out,” Beret added. “If she didn’t eat as much we wouldn’t have to work as hard and she still gets her piece.”

Top-Hat stomped a hoof. “This one is sick of having to provide for the hive, it simply sits around consuming resources. What purpose does it serve except to look after the Queen? It doesn’t collect its own food. Infiltrators are the means of production, so why don’t we control it?”

“Uhh,” Beret began, “because they outnumber us twelve to one?”

“Pish posh,” Top-Hat countered, “She could not maintain them without us, and we’re the superior changeling so we could take on twenty-to-one easily!” Top-Hat lit its horn and a soap box was pulled from behind the curtains. Top-Hat stepped onto the box and declared, “This one dreams of a world where a changeling is free to make their own fortune, to make their own rules, to be whatever they want to be, and to be enriched by their own efforts.”

“This one would like to be rich,” Cap said with growing enthusiasm. “Could this one have its own nest?”

“You can have a mansion for that nest if you join us!” Top-Hat replied. “This one declares a revolution. We shall be free of the queen and take the hive for ourselves! Are you with us?”

“Yeah!” said Cap.

Beret looked worriedly over at the mighty Queen on her throne. “This one would like to be free, but we can’t fight her, she’s too powerful.”

“You are an infiltrator,” Top-Hat countered, “The Queen would see you as a traitor and kill you anyway, and so you might as well join us. Viva la Revolution!” following his declaration, Top-Hat and Cap charge toward the Queen while Beret remained behind. The three combatants chased each other backstage while Foil removed her beret and returned to the side of the stage to narrate.

“So the Changeling Civil War began, and despite their best efforts the infiltrators only manage to make a few gains. But as the fighting continued it began to spill over into the streets of Equestria, revealing the Hive to the Pony Princesses.” Then the Queen crawled out from beneath the curtains and fixed the wig and crown back on her head. Then two small versions of Princesses Celestia and Luna flew out from behind the curtains before pelting the Changeling Queen with bouncy rubber balls, forcing the Queen to flee backstage to the laughter of the audience. “Both the Hive and the Infiltrators were forced out of Equestria, returning the land of ponies to peace once more.”

I leant over to whisper into Colgate’s ear, “I don’t recall any mention of the Princesses fighting changelings in any of the history books I’ve read.”

“Me neither,” Colgate replied. “There used to be a stain-glass window of the Princesses defeating Discord, and a few other monsters nopony seems to remember, but I didn’t see any changelings when I went on the tour.”

“I wonder why not,” I said as I scratched my chin.

“But there was one changeling infiltrator left within Equestria,” Foil continued to narrate as a changeling emerged wearing a beret. “Branded a deserter by the other infiltrators and unwilling to follow the Hive, the deserter fled to the coast taking ships to remote ports and eking out an existence in inns and taverns as it constantly moved in the hope of avoiding attention.” The bereted changeling wandered around the stage, constantly looking back over her shoulder and changing disguises.

“When the Equestrian Civil War broke out, the deserter sought shelter in the Unicornian city of Tall Tale, before being forced to flee again as griffon raiders sacked the undefended city.” A pair of griffons dive bombed the Deserter as she ran across the stage. “The Deserter and the refugees that fled with her were soon found by Red Robin the Wingless, a former Pegasopolan Scout and resident of Trottingham.” The deserter was met by a changeling in the form of a red earth pony with fake wing stubs, and the pair fought off a griffon carrying a knife and fork. Robin slammed the griffon into the ground using a Krav Pega strike I’d seen Cloud Kicker do once – though not against a griffon, unfortunately – before the Deserter stuck the fork in the griffon’s flank which got a loud screech and a delighted audience. Then the pair kissed over the ‘body’ of the defeated griffon as the crowd stomped their hooves in approval.

“After the battle of Trottingham, and at Robin’s advice, the Deserter was introduced to Spear Shaker the pony that built, and rebuilt, the Horseshoe Theatre.” The changeling acting as the griffon stood up and took on the disguise of a balding and moustached earth pony before shaking hooves with the Deserter. “And so the Deserter stayed in Trottingham, taking on the name Patsy as the first of the Bards, and lived happily ever after.”

Foil joined the other changelings centre stage as they dropped their disguises and all four bowed to the audience. I clapped my hooves together, while everypony else clapped and stomped.

There was a contented sigh from a few of the changelings and one fell over with a happy look on its face. “The fast is over,” the grounded one said with a contented sigh.

Foil cleared its throat. “We thank you for the applause and positive feelings, this one’s troupe mates haven’t been exposed to such feeling since we grew aware of the Queen’s presence in Equestria a few weeks ago.”

Colgate put a hoof up, and Foil pointed out at it. Colgate stood and asked, “You’ve covered a good bit of your history, but you haven’t really answered why this Queen wants to find you.”

The changelings glanced at each other. “We’re not sure,” the one second from the left answered. “Perhaps it wants to remove rivals, or any changeling it doesn’t control.”

“She might want to take us back, re-enslave us,” the one second from the right added.

“Does it matter?” Foil replied. “We wanted to avoid contact and retreated in hope we would not cross paths with the hive, yet here we are.”

Dad massaged his head with both of his fore-hooves. “Right, you’re all a bunch of shapeshifting monsters that get high on love and applause, and ya big mummy with the entire hive of the same is coming to get you, and I’ll bet you’re hoping that the town can protect you from said hive of shapeshifting monsters.”

“It’s just the one shapeshifting monster actually,” I added from my seat beside him.

“Well buck the bucking bells,” Dad groused.

“We can defend ourselves,” Foil replied, “We still have the Knight,” she pointed over at the steel statue at the side of the audience.

I leaned towards Colgate and noted, “It’s the turtle approach, curl up in a defended position and wait for the attacker to give up.”

Colgate hummed. “That doesn’t help your sister.”

I shrugged. “Knowing Page, she’s probably fine with it.”

“I meant Mill, your other sister.”

I blinked. “Oh yeah, I totally forgot about her. But,” I said while giving my chin a scratch, “we don’t necessarily need to rescue her, we were here to rescue Page. I’m sure Mill is fine. Probably about to drive poor Flash out of town, it wouldn’t be the first time,” I noted darkly to myself.

Dad gave my flank a kick. I yelped and then Dad pulled me closer to say, “You’re not running away from this again. Your mother expects three children at the dinner table tonight, with at least one guest, so get to it.”

“Yes, Dad,” I said as I rubbed the sore spot. I leant back over toward Colgate and said, “So, we need to find a shapeshifting creature that could be anypony, has a portable food source, and probably has all the time in the world to carry out its mission. Guess how we can do that?”

Colgate’s nose scrunched up for a moment before she asked, “How then?”

“We don’t.”

“Uh.”

“What I mean is, without some obvious hint we’re never going to find it if it doesn’t want to be found.” I shrugged. “It’s a creature explicitly designed to hide, we’re not going to win that game so we’ll have to get it to play our game.”

Colgate’s mouth slowly opened and she tapped a hoof on the ground. “You want to set a trap for it,” she finished with a growing smile.

“Providing we can find the right bait for it,” I added. Tapping my chin as I thought, I considered my options: we did have the troupe of bards, but I couldn’t think of anything else.
“Those ponies might know,” Colgate said while nodding toward the stage.

I looked towards the side of the theatre. “The Black Knight probably knows a few things too, and he owes me for the concussion.”

I started to push myself back up onto my hooves, with Colgate watching me cautiously. “Can you make it over there?”

I looked down at my legs and my head didn’t start spinning immediately, so I said, “Probably.” Colgate stood up as well and followed me as I moved through the crowd toward the Black Knight.

As we approached the Knight I started to feel a little apprehensive, he had this sort of looming aspect to him. The Knight’s armour was impeccably maintained, you’d almost think it was just one of the old Unicornian suits just sitting on display in a gallery somewhere rather than one that was actively being worn. After a moment of staring I caught my own reflection in the Knight’s breastplate, and that of Colgate looking worriedly at me. I snapped myself out of it and said, “Sir Knight… I wish to ask after strategic advice against our foe.”

There was a slight movement of metal before it answered, “That which you must always be aware when fighting changelings: there is never one alone, they might be anyone, and they are entirely of one mind so never assume you can remove one without all others knowing.”

“What if I wanted to bait a trap?” I asked.

“Difficult. The Old Mind of the Hive has made many and been caught before, it would not be easily fooled. However, changelings are instinctively drawn to major sources of love and affection.”

A grin crossed my face. “Like the ‘Tunnel of Love’ in Applewood?”

The Knight nodded, and in his flat-echo added, “Or mid-tier restaurants, cafes with more than one variety of coffee, cinemas showing romantic comedies, and maternity wards in hospitals.”

“Ew,” Colgate uttered.

“They are also fond of Weddings,” the Knight continued. “The amount of love usually thrown around during the ceremony would draw the hive’s attention from miles away. They would target lonely ponies, and draw them away while the pony is drunk on love in the air.”

“Drunk on the love in the air?” I mused aloud. “Sounds like Hearts and Hooves Day, lots of desperate ponies trying to find—ack.” A hoof to the side interrupted me. Colgate glared at me over her sunglasses. “What did you do that for?” I asked while rubbing my side. “I have a concussion, remember?”

Colgate pushed her sunglasses back up and corrected her mane a little before asking, “If the changelings are all sharing a single mind, is it possible to disrupt it?” She gave her horn a tap.

“Many have asked that question in ages past,” the Knight echoed. “Their bond is empathic and magical, but while it does have a frequency – to borrow an inaccurate term from radio broadcasting – any disruption simply causes the Hive Mind to switch to other frequencies. Archmagi have tried disrupting it before and have never succeeded.”

A smile began to cross my face. “It has a frequency, hmm... I might have an idea there,” I said while glancing at Colgate’s horn. I bowed my head toward the Knight. “Thank you for your assistance, Sir Knight.”

“Good hunting,” the Knight echoed and began ignoring us.

“So,” I said to Colgate as we turned away from the Knight. “Minuette, will you marry me?”

Suddenly all the gears in her head came to a grinding halt, I almost expected a spring to fly out of her ear as it flicked up. “Wha?” She looked over at me. “Why would we do that?”

“Good point,” I said before scratching my chin. “The changelings wouldn’t believe it. I guess if they literally pull love out of the air, then they’d realise it’s not a genuine ceremony.” I smiled to myself, “I guess it’s fairly hard to find a premade couple, currently in love, ready to be married just when we need them to be bait.” My eyes wandered across the theatre toward Page and Foil.

“We could make it genuine,” Colgate said out loud, and I snapped my eyes back; it wasn’t really the response I was fishing for. She tapped her chin thrice before continuing, “It’d be as if we’d eloped if we did it here, so add some alcohol, a few hours in a bedroom, and it could be genuine enough.” She giggled to herself. “We wouldn’t even need to provide a reason if we annul it within the next two days.”

“Minuette,” I said flatly to get her attention and pointed a hoof at the real couple on the stage.

“Hmm?” Colgate looked where I was pointing, then back to me, and then back to where I was pointing. “Oh. Yeah. That might work.” She started brushing her mane with a hoof.

I leaned over towards Colgate. “You know that was a joke right? I wasn’t being serious.”

Colgate smiled awkwardly. “I thought you were. Adventures are where you do stupid stuff right? Like getting married in Los Pegasus while drunk, swimming with sea-ponies, and hunting monsters.”

A satisfied smile crossed my face. “Can’t say I got married while drunk,” I said before pausing to add, “At least I don’t think I have. Getting into the spirit of the adventure then?”

Colgate looked over her sunglasses and smiled at me. “I’m hunting love-eating, shape-changing, bug-pony monsters in a dreary old town with a pony foalish enough to fight a storybook villain. How do you think I feel?” She turned back to the stage before I could answer. “Oh, and you kissed me first,” she added and set off walking with a very deliberate sashay of the tail.

I paused for a moment to think about that one, I didn’t even remember doing that. Blaming my short term memory loss on the concussion, I followed carefully after Colgate before another dizzy spell hit me.

We made our way through Dad’s herd of hired goons, most of which had gathered around a coffee cart that must have been wheeled in from the square outside. The show had finished and everypony had started drifting back to normal routines. Sod Turner was up on the stage alone with Page, Foil, and a few of the other changeling bards.

Colgate beat me up there and congratulated Foil on a good performance. I gradually made my way up the steps, fully expecting the concussion to come back with a vengeance at any moment. That’s when Colgate asked, “So was it mare and stallion, or mare and mare when you got married?” The answer was a loud, “wha?” from multiple parties and I nearly missed a step on the stairs.

Colgate shrunk a little and folded her ears back. “Oh I’m sorry, it’s just I thought you would have gotten married before having a foal.” I doubt anypony would have noticed unless they were looking for it, but a slight smile crossed Colgate’s face.

I was probably thinking along the same lines as Colgate was; we now had viable bait for the Changeling Hive. “Hey Dad,” I said teasingly, “looks like your first grand-foal is going to be a bas—”

Dad didn’t waste time, “Why haven’t you two hitched yourselves together already?” A slight growl underlined the question.

Page and Foil looked at each other and Page admitted, “I wanted family around.”

Foil flatly added, “We don’t really do weddings, it causes trouble and attracts paparazzi.”

“But you are marrying the Mayor’s daughter,” I added while moving to stand next to Dad. “A certain level of propriety is kinda demanded.” A smile crossed my face before I added, “It’s that or people start using the word ‘gate’ in unusual contexts.”

“You’re getting hitched,” Dad ordered and before they could object he added, “Before foaling.”

“Page is due next week!” Foil protested.

“Well it’s only…” I glanced up at the sky “… eleven-thirty-ish. Why wait?”

Dad gave me a suspicious look and quietly said towards me, “I want you to find Mill first,” he nodded towards Page, “we need a bridesmaid.”

I leaned over to whisper, “Changelings are attracted to weddings, and it’s a trap to get Mill back.”

Dad blinked and thought for only a moment before saying, “Tonight then.” When they started to protest again Dad reared back and stomped. “Don’t make me get the Hooffield’s down here because I could make this a sling-shot wedding, and I’ll bet their tomatoes are just about ripe!

“And you,” Dad said as he pointed at Foil. “Mare, Stallion, or Hippogriff, pick one, I don’t care which. Then get down to Thread’s and take the first dress you see that Thread can put a pregnancy patch on and send me the bill. Get it done in the next four hours, or so help me, I’ll make it rain pumpkins!”

Colgate, lips pursed and looking very directly at the ground, lightly added, “Have they proposed yet?”

Dad glared at the pair before pointing at Foil, “Kneel.”

Foil then got down before Page and recited a lyrical proposal I vaguely remembered from a play. Once done Dad went over to the edge of the stage, tapped his hoof a few times and announced, “Fillies and Gentlecolts, I’m thoroughly delighted to announce that my daughter Page is getting married!” There was stomping and clapping from the members of the audience gathered around the coffee cart.

“Given the,” the visibly glanced back at Page, “impending joy of the situation, the ceremony will be here tonight!” There were gasps. “The entire town is invited,” smiles crossed everypony’s faces, “and the reception will be open bar!” The crowd cheered. “Now everypony spread the word and get ready, because this is only going to happen once, be back here by six!” It didn’t take long for everypony to start moving, even the coffee cart left so it could restock for tonight.

“That goes for the rest of you too,” Dad said as we wandered back over to us. “I’ll arrange the rest of the wedding, and set a bleeding record for doing it in six hours. I’ll see you all tonight, be ready.”

Everypony else split off, leaving me with Colgate. “So, what do we do?” she asked.

“A little bit of shopping,” I said as I reached up for my hat. It took me a moment of feeling around to remember I’d left it at home last night in favour of the meagre caving gear. “Ah, my bits are back at the farm.”

“My purse was in the satchel I brought,” Colgate replied, “should still be in our room, back in a minute.” She turned and darted off backstage.

Alone, I looked around the open air theatre. If the entire town was going to be here for the wedding it’d be a little tight, and all the elevated seating up on the walled arms of the theatre’s horseshoe shape would have to be used. Naturally the ceremony itself would have to take place on the stage, and the musical accompaniment to the ceremony could be performed by the Phantom’s organ if somepony could lift it up from the under-stage storage.

I was contemplating whatever mechanism was used to lift that organ up when I noticed the stage curtains moving. A flutter travelled towards me before a sudden breeze of air came out from under it, blowing past me and getting stronger. A point of light began to shine in the air, growing and brightening to a dazzling intensity in mere seconds. I’ve seen this before, it was only the 76th time I’d witnessed the phenomenon.

I was about to have a guest from the future.

The light fell to the ground and burst. I opened my eyes and instead of a future me I found a future Colgate instead.

Except she wasn’t Colgate, but she was definitely Minuette.

The coat was the same, but her muscles had been a little more toned, the tail quite similar, but it was the mane that was the main difference: it was longer and curled, held back by a blue headband sitting behind her horn which also seemed longer. She walked toward me with a very confident stride, her mane bobbing as she moved, and her smile was still perfect.
“Hi Time.” She smirked. “Don’t look so surprised, it’s all your fault.” Her horn lit with a glow and she leaned forward to touch it to my head. Whatever spell she was casting fired on contact, sending a warm feeling through my head like a bubbling hot spring. Minuette giggled and whispered in my ear, “You’re drooling.”

I rapidly brought up the cuff of my left hoof to clean my muzzle. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied, “It’s probably a side effect of healing the concussion.”

“Huh?” I looked down at the hoof I was using to clean my muzzle and realised I’d been standing on three legs without any trouble. “When did you learn to do that?”

“About eight months from now, I opened up my old textbooks after this adventure,” Minuette said while looking around. “It’s amazing how much faster you learn when you have a practical component,” she smiled at me again. “Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Caught up with Twilight yet?” I asked.

A grimace crossed her face. “I don’t think I’d be quite able to do that; not without a pair of wings anyway.” That comment raised an eyebrow (and won me a substantial wager a few months later).

“You’re beating her at time travel at least,” I replied consolingly.

“And writing the book on it,” she added. “I’ve got two more things to do before I go: the first thing was to relay a message you told me to tell you, ‘Mill is where she belongs’.”

“That’s not very nice, and the second?” I asked.

Minuette immediately stepped forward, and brushed a hoof gently across my face. When I opened my mouth, she leant forward and locked her lips onto mine. Her tongue entered my mouth and we both leaned into it. It lasted another thirty-three seconds before the wind returned and carried her back forward in time.

I was left standing there until the sound of galloping reached me, and Colgate slid out from behind the backstage curtain and asked, “What was that blast?” For a moment I couldn’t help but stare at Colgate and picture the mare she was going to become. Colgate looked back at me and asked, “Are you alright,” with an unsure note in her voice.

“I’m okay. In fact I’m feeling a lot better.” I nodded to myself. “How’s your horn?”

“A little better,” Colgate said before putting a slight glow up it. “I hope it gets better soon, picking this stuff up without it took forever.” Colgate nodded at her cargo, her satchel, the length of rope we brought, and the two helmets we’d worn in the caves below.

“I wouldn’t worry too much, you’ll get it back.”

Colgate smiled back at me. “Yeah, best part is that when it comes back it’ll be even stronger.”

I returned the smile, thinking of Future Minuette. “Come on,” I said while nodding back over my shoulder. “We’ve got a wedding to prepare for.”

Author's Note

Another year, another chapter.
This one took three rewrites before I was happy with it, but now that I'm getting back into the swing of things I'll try to bring you all the finale of Turner's adventure arc before 2017.

The Pony who’s going to a Trottingham Wedding

Colgate’s straw made a slurping sound as she finished her second milkshake. Straightening in her chair, Colgate wiped the milk from around her muzzle. “I think I need to brush my teeth now.” A burp escaped from her mouth before she could cover it. “Why do I need to drink these?”

“Old trick for getting your magic back,” I replied. “Liquid sugar for fast energy, brain freeze to reduce any inflammation, and caffeine in the choc syrup.”

“Seems to have helped your concussion,” Colgate said with a nod at the banana milkshake sitting in front of me.

“Yes. It has,” I replied. At some point I’d have to tell Colgate that it was actually her that solved that problem: traveling back in time to pass on advice, heal my concussion with a spell the present Colgate had yet to learn, and then spent the last thirty-three seconds of her time in the past introducing her tongue to my mouth.

Inevitably I’d have to tell present Colgate about future Minuette and then tell her exactly what she did so she’d be able to repeat it when she travelled back in time – all part of maintaining a stable time loop. Of course that assumed time loops had to be stable and that paradoxes are impossible, but then again I’ve personally witnessed an example of the bootstrap paradox.

As I watched her look back at me, a traitorous corner of my mind reframed what I saw: instead of a neighbourly smile I saw hopeful mischievousness, instead of simple questions I saw an intent to discover more about me, and the look she was giving me said she cared deeply for me.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright for this evening?” Colgate asked.

I smiled back. “I’ll only be a small part of the evening if the plan works.” Pointing a hoof back at her I added, “You’re the one who can pull off the surprise.”

Colgate blinked, then immediately looked around before leaning forward to ask, “What surprise?” My smiled widened, and hers turned into a grin. “Are you going to tell me?”

I pushed my empty glass aside and leaned forward, crossing my forelegs on the table. “Say you knew that you were walking into a trap. What do you do?”

Colgate licked her lips. “You spring the trap, right? But you do it on your terms. They do it in books all the time.”

“Say you wanted to trap the trap’s trap?”

Colgate’s head turned a little to her left. “So the surprise is a trap trap trap?”

“Not quite. I’ve done that before and the bad guy simply pulled out his trump card.” Sighing I added, “And he used it to get away. It was literally a card. A card with rune-work on it that could trigger a prepared avalanche, aimed at a ski-lodge, where a group of orphans was enjoying a generously donated trip to the Smokey Mountains.”

Colgate’s face crinkled up. “That’s so… cliché.”

“I know, right?” I said through gritted teeth. “So next time I see the purple haired git, I’ll have a surprise for him. Something that trumps his trump card with something he couldn’t possibly foresee.” Which is so much easier when you can abuse time travel, I added to myself.

“So you’re going to trump the changelings with a surprise?” Colgate asked. “How?”

Grinning, I tapped Colgate’s horn and said, “Frequency.”

Colgate, to her credit, figured it out almost immediately.

The perfect wedding is something that requires planning, scheduling, and forewarning to achieve. Dresses must be measured, flowers grown, cakes baked using supplies that are usually ordered a week in advance, and invitations are sent out early enough that all the guests can schedule time to be present. When done properly a wedding is the epitome of plans coming together and a lot of last minute problem solving.

The wedding that Dad set up was not perfect; it was compromised.

Dresses were pulled off of display ponequins, the flower stall was raided with no eye for colour coordination, a range of cakes were pulled from the shelf and stacked on each other, and the ceremony was scheduled for the evening with messengers telling everypony in town the magic words: free food and open bar.

Naturally, I made a few arrangements of my own: a significant amount of strong ribbon was placed strategically around the theatre where it was both decorative and easily removable, a decent quantity of missile-grade tomatoes waited on a table, and I was keeping a few bags of my favourite brand of sneezing powder close at hoof.

Colgate sidled up to me as the entire town made their way into the packed theatre. “Spot any changelings yet?” Colgate had managed to find a dress and was ready to take her place as Page’s Maid of Honour. Colgate’s position as the Maid was just the excuse we were using to get her on stage during the ceremony and I’d be opposite her as Foil’s Best Stallion.

“Apart from the groom, no changelings yet,” I replied.

Colgate sighed. “I really don’t want to have to give everypony a blood test to find it.”

“You sure there’s no spell for this?” I asked, hoping to avoid doing manual security screening myself.

“Nopony’s really paid attention to changelings before,” Colgate said with a shrug. “Give an archmagus a few weeks and she might be able to modify one of the standard scanning spells to pick out a changeling, but nopony’s seen the need yet.”

“At least it might help next time we need to find a yellow needle in a haystack.”

“So how are we going to do this?” Colgate asked.

“Easy,” I replied. “Once we block the exit, we get everypony in town to ask their neighbour a question only they would know.” Giving my chin a scratch, “We should rule out about ninety percent or so of the population in a few seconds, isolate the rest for a few more questions, and those who nopony vouches for can get a tail-cut.”

Colgate scrunched her face up as she thought about it. “The Knight said the blood test was a good way to check, if we remove hair it should come up changeling in the same way.”

“And much easier than giving everypony a syringe and telling them to draw some blood,” I added. “It’s a fairly foolproof plan,” I said somewhat self-assuredly. “Changelings can’t resist weddings, so it’ll be here somewhere, and if everypony helps us isolate it then we can jump it easily.”

Colgate stepped forward to whisper in my ear, “You think it’ll work?”

“That’s what Plan B’s for, and Plan C,” I said with a nod toward Colgate. “We’ll probably need them.”

“Right…”

A puffing sound began underneath us in the sub-stage. One of the bards in the role of a unicorn work-pony, who’d introduced itself to me as Cameo, came around from behind the stage curtain with a hooked pole held in green magic and a yellow helmet on his head.

“Are we being pulled off stage?” I quipped.

“Nah,” Cameo said as he pushed back his hard hat. “Just gots ta yank dis hatch open.”

The hook swung down and caught in a notch in the stage floor, Cameo moved the pole to his mouth and yanked. The stage floor lifted on a set of hinges hidden under the curtain and went back until it hit some form of stopper. “Method,” Cameo yelled down the hatch, “sends it up.”

Colgate and I stood and watched as some large mechanism started moving, each second accompanied by a loud clacking. A brass pipe, slightly pitted, rose out of the pit with a stack of others. “The Phantom’s Organ,” Colgate said with awe. The rest of the organ’s body soon followed the pipes, and the seat in front of the keyboard was already occupied by a bard in the form of an old mare.

The organ’s lift came to a stop with a thump. The bard in the seat stood up with some feigned difficulty and yelled down through the floorboards, “Start pumping the bellows!” She saw us out of the corner of her eye and jumped, clutching her chest. “Oh dears, you gave me a start. Though I can happily say the organ still works.”

Colgate hummed, “And you’re…”

“Face, dearie, but you can call me Pipe for now.”

“…Right.” Colgate finished as ‘Pipe’ returned to looking after the organ. Colgate looked back at me and twirled a hoof around the side of her head.

“At least we can play ‘Here Comes the Bride’,” I noted as Cameo provided the final adjustments for ‘Pipe’s’ performance. Briefly out of the corner of my eye I noticed the rustling of the stage curtain behind the organ, the Knight moving into position.

“The ‘Bridal Chorus’ of Loponygrin you mean?” Colgate said, dragging my attention back from behind the curtain.

“The what chorus?” I asked.

“The ‘Here Comes the Bride’ song,” Colgate explained, “is from an old Unicornian play called Loponygrin which involved a wedding, though the song was actually after the ceremony. Princess Platinum enjoyed the play and had the Bridal Chorus performed at her own wedding, and the song’s been used in every wedding since. It’s also where the white dress came from,” she added.

“She’s right, dear,” Pipe said while leaning back from the organ seat. “We performed Loponygrin three years ago.” The disguised changeling pressed a few of the organ keys in a silent pattern. “I think I could perform most of the score if I had to.”

“How do you know all that?” I asked Colgate.

She shrugged replying, “It was in the inner cover of my wedding music booklet, it’s still in my music library back in Ponyville.”

Leaning closer and narrowing my eyes I asked, “Wedding music?”

Colgate pursed her lips and looked off into the distance. “I was going to sing during my wedding… with Caramel.”

‘Pipe’ looked back over her shoulder. “If you know the words you can join in too.”

Colgate’s head shot around to look back at the changeling organist. “I could?” She brought a hoof to her chest, “But it’d be in front of an entire town….”

Seeing her pause like that, I felt I had to give her a nudge. Leaning forward and elbowing her in the shoulder, I said, “When else are you going to get a chance? Besides, nopony here knows you so… go nuts, I won’t tease.”

Colgate nodded to herself adding, “I can sing this.” She nodded more vigorously to herself. “I’ve practiced this song dozens of times. Where do I stand?” she asked ‘Pipe’.

“Right this way, dearie,” the changeling said as she slowly and carefully stood up, leading an excited Colgate to the other side of the stage.

I was left standing alone on my side of the stage for a minute before another part of the upcoming ceremony pulled on my tail. Looking over my shoulder to see what had done the literal tugging, I saw a pony beckoning from stage right. He was a young and strong looking pegasus colt, his mane curled, and a half heart mark was emblazoned on his tuxedo lapel.

A thought bugged me as I stepped backstage to see what the colt wanted. “Foil,” I asked on a guess, “are you going to your wedding as Roamer from Roamer and Tulip?”

“Twas the best character I could’st conceive for mine role,” in what sounded like a stereotypical pegasopolilan accent.

I took a breath. “Okay, so what did you need?”

“Thou must give thine sister away,” he replied.

I took a second to process what he said and replied, “Giving the bride away is the father’s job.”

“He is readying himself to preside,” Foil replied while pointing across backstage where my father was waiting with his mayoral chain around his neck.

“I see.”

“Be swift,” Foil said and pointed down a corridor that curved towards the open side of the theatre’s horseshoe.

Page was waiting alone in the ticket booth with the blinds down, her dress clearly stretched to the limit around her heavily pregnant barrel.

“Page,” I said as I came in through the staff door, “how are you doing?”

“Nerves are starting to fray,” she replied before giving her pregnant barrel a stroke. “Are you sure you can catch the changeling?”

“I’ve got multiple contingencies in place along with my ‘perfect timing’,” I replied with a smile. “When have you ever known me to fail?”

Page cocked an eyebrow up, “Like when Mill—”

Suddenly we heard the organ start, and bolted for the exit. Opening the door with a back hoof and lowering Page’s veil with a front, I led the bride out onto the red carpet just as The Bridal Chorus started and Colgate began to sing.

Harmony guided,
now draw near.
To where the blessings of loooove shall be!

Page started down the aisle while I paused to shut the Theatre’s fro gate and turn the key in the lock. The trap was closed.

Victorious courage,
the triumph of love,
joins you now together in matra-mo-nee!

A quick canter and I was back in step with Page as we walked down the aisle towards her Roamer, who stood waiting under the watchful eye of my father. Two changelings, Cameo and Method I assumed, stood next to Roamer as Marecutio and Benfoalo, two of Roamer’s pegasi comrades from the play in traditional dress.

I looked around as we walked down the aisle, but I didn’t see anypony drooling in hunger or acting remotely suspicious. Thinking quickly, I tried to figure out what I’d have to do to expose any changeling in the room.

As Page reached the stairs and continued to our makeshift altar – the narrator’s pulpit moved centre stage – I turned to face the audience, coughed and began, “Dearly beloved, as we gather here to celebrate the love and friendships that bind us together, the bride would like to encourage each of you to look to your neighbour and ask of them something that both of you share.” I tapped a hoof and added, “An experience or memory you alone share… to signify the ties of friendship that bind us all in harmony.” I thought for a moment more before adding, “If you have nothing to share with your neighbour, point him out to others so they can share a connection instead.”

Slowly the audience began to talk among themselves, beginning slowly with shrugs and muttering before their voices began a dull roar. As the audience connected I turned to the altar and took my place as Best Stallion, feeling out of place among Spear Shaker’s various colourful characters.

The connections in the audience soon crossed rows, those who couldn’t find somepony they knew looked around. In one case an old mare was helped back two rows to see an old colt. But no matter where I looked, down in the pit or up in the stands, there didn’t seem to be anypony that didn’t fit in.

“T’would not have worked,” the voice jolted me. Looking back over my shoulder I saw Marecutio nod toward the audience. “Those who art false, have all that they need. The true are held transfixed by the moving swarm and tell of their secrets. The puppeteer shall’t know which strings mus’t be pulled.”

It took me a moment to sift through the thick dialect but the floor dipped in my stomach anyway. “Please tell me giving them a haircut would still work,” I whispered back.

“T’would, but the false endeavour to avoid such challenges.”

Internally I cursed. There goes Plan A.

The music came to an end and Colgate took her place as bridesmaid behind Page.

Dad, dressed up in his full mayoral outfit with the gold chain and powdered wig took his position behind the podium. Dad cleared his throat with a dry-ish sounding cough and opened a book before beginning, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the joining of new members into our family. Though I have yet to learn all their names, I will take them in and give them the purpose that they were born to fulfil.”

My mane stood right up.

Dad’s eyes spontaneously changed to emerald slits in an eye blink and his voice took on a strange echo. “You have no idea how happy I am to see how well you’ve been doing, but I’m a little surprised to see you as characters from Roamer and Tulip. Don’t you know they kill themselves in the end?”

“Plan B!” I yelled, as I spun to face the changeling.

Dad’s goons, dressed in Royal and Night Guard armour, stepped out from their hiding places in the stands above and aimed tomato slingshots. Face dropped its Pipe character and rolled away from the organ, kicking a lever that caused the organ to drop back down into storage. The trap door that normally covered the organ was pushed forward from its resting position to reveal the Black Knight in full armour, wings and cape spread out, and telekine stars held in green magic. The in-character changelings beside me both dropped into martial stances, and Foil threw himself between Page and the enemy changeling.

Colgate burst into motion and came to a skidding halt next to me, while I looked around to assess our surroundings. The guest-list behind us had all erupted into panicked chattering and were looking for a way out of the theatre.

“Turner,” Colgate began hurriedly, “your dad was in on our plans from the start. How long do you think he was a changeling?”

“We’ve got a bigger problem, there’s a panic developing.” I said before turning to the crowd “Don’t worry, everypony!” I called out, “We planned for this.”

Moving into a ready crouch, I pointed myself at the changeling behind the pulpit. “You’ve got thirty seconds until the guards start peppering you with tomatoes and the Black Knight pounds your flank into the dirt again. Tell me, where you’re keeping my father and sister.”

The changeling snorted with amusement before summoning green fire to change its form, revealing the black carapace, the fangs, wings, jagged horn, and a green helmet on its head. Finally, it used its wings to flick Dad’s mayoral chain into the air before blasting it with a burst of green magic from its horn. As the blob of gold fell to the ground it smiled.

“Uhh,” said Colgate.

“You think you’re the first pony to try and trap me with a wedding?” It said. “You’re only the forty-eighth to have tried it.”

The comeback came to mind instantly, “And how many times have you been covered in tomato?” I looked back over my shoulders at the goon on the upper levels with the slingshots. “Fire!”

Nopony shot a tomato.

The changeling burst into maniacal laughter, which was quickly echoed by all of Dad’s goons. I looked over my shoulder and winced as dozen or so ponies I’d been counting on to back us up one by one turned into changelings. The wincing got worse as a dozen or so members of the audience changed as well, sending their neighbours into shock as ponies they personally knew burst into green flame. The screaming got louder, and the changelings began to laugh in sync with each other.

Colgate’s ears progressively flattened against her head as she counted them. “Your dad told them everything.”

“Didn’t think there’d be this many changelings either,” I said as a sidled a little closer to her. I leant over to her ear and whispered, “Think you can do Plan C?”

Colgate took a deep breath. “Yes, do you think it’ll work?”

I looked over my back as a buzz filled the air; several changelings had taken flight and were moving towards us. I guessed we’ve have something like a minute before we’d be taken prisoner. “It’s worth a shot,” I said in reply. “I’ll distract them.”

“How?” Colgate asked.

“Ask for a monologue, that usually works,” I said with a shrug and advanced on the lead changeling in the green helmet.

“Alright, Flash Lighthouse,” I said toward green helmet, “what did you do with my family?”

One of Green’s slitted eyes flicked past me and slowly turned her maniacal laughter down to an unstable giggle before stopping with a brief wipe of her mouth. “Flash Lighthouse?” Green giggled again. “This one,” she said while pointing at herself with a hoof, “was never Light Statue. The one you are thinking of is over there,” she nodded out at the audience, “third from the left. You never had any control here, in fact I should thank you for helping me find my missing infiltrators.”

The constant buzz in my ears got louder and I looked over my shoulder, a dozen changelings were diving toward the stage. As I watched something flew over my head and cut wings from three of them. A second object followed, hitting two more, before the Black Knight flew up to meet them with a cloud of star shaped telekine weapons around him.

A trio of pegasi suddenly landed next to me, armed with wing-blades, capes, and large brimmed hats. “We stand with you, our friend,” said the taller one with a fancy accent.

“While we are happy being all for one, we have distinct grievance being all for that one,” said another.

“We’d never submit without a fight,” said the third.

It took me a moment to realise who these three were, august company indeed for somepony in need. I was feeling more hopeful already, but something nagged me. “Aren’t you missing somepony?”

“Amareis is getting Miss Page and their foal to safety,” said the first.

I smiled and nodded back appreciatively before looking back at the green helmeted changeling. “Looks like you’re outnumbered.”

Green scowled at me, not even flinching as another changeling crashed to the stage behind it as the Knight moved on to another. “Hardly,” she said, and a moment later a tomato hit me on the back of the head. I looked back over my shoulder just in time to see another one coming and duck under it.

A half dozen changelings, formerly Dad’s goons, stood on the roof of the stand and were firing their tomato slingshots down through the open air toward the stage. I dodged another, but the bard next to me had his hat shot off instead. “We need some cover from this scurrilous scarlet assault,” he said, but there’s decidedly little cover in the middle of a stage.

“Turner!” Ears, and then eyes flicked towards the shout. Colgate had taken a tomato hit, but despite ruining her dress the tomato hadn’t stopped her casting. Then again, the great big blue glow around her horn screamed ‘Look at me, I’m casting something really big, so shoot me!’

Colgate scrunched her eyes shut, and was leaning forward into the spell. The glow was starting to become blinding, I could swear that I could hear the magic surging in her horn. Then, like a bird with a serious grudge, a red ball arced through the air and hit Colgate on the horn. The raw mana was instantly released through the tomato juice and vaporised the tomato itself in a ball of flame that set her mane on fire.

Despite having all the bards and the Knight on my side we still really needed that spell; so, while Colgate stared back at me in shock, I hit the Time Turn. “Reset.”

While I watched the tomato fly backwards through the air I started trying to guess, how long would it take me to cross that distance? If I didn’t give myself enough time I’d obviously miss, but if I gave myself too much the changeling might change his shot. I watched the changeling shooter, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he aimed at the blue glow. Figuring I could make the distance quickly I waited until the moment the changeling had noticed and started to aim, some twenty-eight seconds ago.

I didn’t move immediately, but Colgate had already figured this out and picked her casting up where it was, casting normally. The first tomato hit Colgate on the barrel, ruining her dress, as I turned, another tomato hit the hat off the costumed bard next to me. The changeling shooter was aiming, too busy staring at his target to notice me.

Another tomato hit the stage in front of me and I skipped over it, while the others were already adjusting their aim. I was a length and a half from Colgate as the shooter’s tomato was launched. Pushing off with my forehooves and launching with my hind legs I leapt into the air. Flying between Colgate and the tomato I brought a hoof up to slap the tomato out of the air; on impact it broke open, spinning and spraying tomato juice all over me. One of the seeds got in my eye.

The stage met me at a weird angle and I misjudged my landing, tumbling onto the ground.

“Turner!” Colgate called, then with a growl she took a deep breath, reared up into the air and brought her hooves down with a shout, “Clock Up!” Releasing all the mana she’d been able to muster.

With a great wibbly-wobbly sounding rumble a wave of something passed and spread out from her horn. It was the sound of time itself shaking, each sound wave moving through the outside of time dilation field changing as physics adjusted to the fact that a second was now suddenly a shorter unit of time – or a longer unit of time from our perspective.

As this wave of time dilation passed the hive changelings suddenly stopped moving, those that were flying in the air kept buzzing their wings but slowly spiralled off in different directions. Thunderlane would explain later the flying changelings had probably gotten stuck performing whatever small adjustment they’d been doing to keep flying straight, and eventually adjusted themselves into the walls.

Frequency is a unit of time, and if you change time then frequency changes just like the distortion in the sound waves. Right now, the changelings inside the field weren’t listening to whatever frequency the hive was broadcasting on, and no matter how many backup frequencies there were, none would be quite right anymore. No magus, archmagi, or even a princess had managed to jam the Changeling Hive before -- Colgate had just done something new.

I rolled to my hooves and shouted at the crowd, “We don’t have long, everypony! Grab some ribbon and tie them up before they start moving again!”

It took a moment before the first member of the crowd moved, a farmer grabbed one of the ribbons I’d had strewn all over the walls and jumped on a changeling to start hogtying it. Soon other rope-familiar ponies started to do the same, and the town’s pegasi flew up to roof level to start taking down the slingshots.

The green helmeted changeling however screamed, at first in shock but soon in rage with an odd echoing stutter, followed by a clatter behind us. My head shot around just in time to see the three bards move in between Green Helmet and both Colgate and me. “You shan’t have’st them foul beast!” One yelled. But Green didn’t dive at us, it shot up into the air and towards the outer wall of the Horseshoe.

The Black Knight, still busy tying up a changeling, stomped a hoof to the ground and threw it up into the air. Something fell off the Knight’s boot, was surrounded by his green magic, and flew up after Green Helmet. The telekine weapon lost its shine halfway across the distance but flew onward and sliced through one of Green’s wings as it crossed the wall. “Missed!” the Knight snarled.

“I’m going after it,” I said.

“What?” Colgate said looking over at me.

I stopped her with a hoof. “Concentrate on your spell.” A frown crossed Colgate’s face but her horn glowed steadily. “Get the rest of them,” I said to the others, “we’re not going to have another shot at this.” That said, I leapt off the stage and started making my way through the crowd toward to gate.

The audience section was still in chaos, ribbon still being pulled down from the walls to tie up incapacitated changelings. A couple more had been pony-piled on, and another was still in the air giving itself a concussion as it kept bouncing off one of the walls. I wove through all this, only stumbling once on a mummified changeling.

Though the crowd I ran for the gate and looked for the key. I’d pulled it out of the lock and dropped it, but it still took me a moment to find it. Briefly I cursed the fact I didn’t have a horn or wings as I used my tongue to get the huge ornate iron key between my teeth. A brief twist of the neck later and I got the gate open. I nipped around the corner expecting to find a changeling pancake, but only found an abandoned membranous wing in a pool of green blood. A quarter second looking around and I saw a splotch of green blood with an obvious directional spray toward the west road through town. A moment later I was in full gallop.

The blood splotches disappeared fast, but seeing a pair of flower ponies lying unconscious on the ground was sign enough of Green Helmet’s travel. The West Road through town led out towards the farms and my parents farm. Somehow, I managed to move faster.

I consider myself one of the faster ponies in Ponyville. After all I’d managed to beat both Applejack and Rainbow Dash in the Running of the Leaves. That aside, it still takes a lot to catch up in a chase: for every step you take your target’s taking one as well, and any advantage you might have only means you’re only just nibbling away at their lead.

My exertions eventually awarded me a glimpse of Green Helmet just as it was turning down the laneway up to my parent’s farm and behind the fieldstone wall. Moments later I shot up the same lane and into the yard, with the changeling nowhere in sight.

I thought for a moment what building it might have gone into, the farmhouse, the barn, a shed, or the windmill. Then a flash of inspiration hit me. Future Minuette had passed me a message from Future Turner: “Mill is where she belongs”. Wild guess said she’d be in the windmill, so I ran across the yard toward it.

With the evening light behind me I kicked the windmill door open, finding the room filled with a green fog. Green Helmet was on the other side of the mill itself, a milling wheel that rolled around a circle on the millstone. The mist swirled around the changeling’s horn. Wondering where it had come from I looked around and found my family trapped in green cocoons. Mum and Dad had been pinned to one wall, my elder sister Mill to another, with another pair of cocoons holding Dad’s secretary and his assistant Ollie.

“You’re just in time,” said a hissing purr. “I was just about to clean up.” Green Helmet stepped out from behind the millstone, slitted pupils glaring directly at me as it reached out with a rear leg to kick a lever. The lever pulled a cord that in turn pulled the mill’s clutch into the engaged position and the milling wheel started slowly turning.

“So soon? I’d have thought you’d run for the hills,” I replied as Green started circling the millstone toward me. “I’d actually recommend it; they’re very pleasant this time of year,” I added as I started to circle around the mill as well, away from the changeling.

“And leave all this evidence behind?” it purred. “I would have held this entire town for food and replaced the population, but now with that trick that your friend used... I have to erase my presence.”

“Hard to erase all those changelings we captured,” I countered.

It laughed with a manufactured giggle that went on for a moment. “It was done when I regained control five minutes ago. Those drones are ash now.”

A weight started to form in my stomach again. “An entire town remembers them, and erasing all of them would be hard to hide.”

It bared its fangs in a very unsettling grin. “Oh, quite so. In fact a group of griffon extremists taking revenge for an ancient defeat will be very visible. Especially once they get hungry.” It licked its jaws and advanced around the mill toward me. “The best part is the griffons will take the blame for everything.”

I retreated. “Last griffon I saw got its flank thoroughly trounced by a pegasus. They’re a little too pathetic to be the threat you want them to be. Have you seen Griffonstone lately?”

Green Helmet picked up the pace and I did the same, only to realise we’d switched sides. The changeling reached out again and shut the windmill door. The mill darkened as the light was cut off, only finding its way through cracks in the roof and door.

“You won’t be seeing it yourself.”

I was ready for the attack when it finally came. Green had bolted in the opposite direction and came around in a leaping grab. I sidestepped and drove my shoulder into the side of its barrel, sending it into the wall. It swung out at me and I took it across the back of the neck, sending me forward onto the floor with my flank up in the air. Before I could recover my breath it kicked me across the flank and sent me into a tumbling twist.

Rolling back to my hooves, I prepared for the next strike and the counter I’d deliver. Then I realised I was fighting a black creature in a very dimly lit windmill. The helmet was easy to see, but the limbs weren’t.

The next hit clocked across my muzzle, but I managed to guess where the other hoof would be, caught it, and charged forward to push it into rearing up. With the changeling’s belly exposed I used my free hoof to give it a couple of good kidney shots before it came down and sunk its fangs into my shoulder. Thankfully nopony was conscious or near enough to hear my un-stallion-like whinnying shriek of pain.

While still latched on, the changeling reached forward to get a hoof on the side of my barrel and forced me against the millstone. Bouncing against the side of the millstone I flicked my head over to butt the changeling loose from my shoulder. Mostly freed from its grip, I pushed back with my forehooves, braced against the hindhooves, and pushed off with my cannons to drive a punch into the changeling’s muzzle. It saw the attack, and deflected it with its helmet.

The changeling stepped forward past me, and then hit me en passant across the barrel to drive me into the millstone again.

A leg went under me, bracing against my chest and lifted me up and onto my back on the millstone. That close to the mill I didn’t just hear the millstone move; I felt it. Panic shot through me as I summoned the will to yell ‘reset’ only to have it interrupted as the turning wheel of the millstone gripped my muzzle. The Time Turn kicked in just as I felt my jaw being pressed into my skull.

The Time Turn took me back to when the changeling had caught me in passing and started to push me toward the millstone. Instead of resisting the push, I rolled, and while tumbling I hooked a fore and hind leg under Green using the motion of my roll to strengthen my throw as I sent it into the air.

The changeling screamed in rage as it landed on the millstone and into the groove long worn in by the turning millstone. As I watched, Green Helmet’s scream of rage became pain as the millstone started on its flank. Chitin crunched, and the scream turned into a suddenly silenced gargle as much of what was in the changeling came out like toothpaste though its mouth and eyes.

My lunch did the same a moment later, and so did my breakfast.

I’m not sure how long I sat there in shock. I didn’t even look up from the ground until I heard a loud rattling approach. The door was kicked open and as I was bathed in light again as I looked up to see the Black Knight standing in the doorway. Light bounced off his armour, silhouetted by his cape, the effect was completed by the solid blue shine of his eyes peering through the visor of his helm.

Another pony pushed past the Knight. “Turner! We—oh my—” Colgate’s voice turned to a gargle as she ran back outside. For a good two minutes I listened to the sound of Colgate losing her lunch, with a background soundtrack of the slight crunch of more chitin being ground down to the consistency of flour.

The Knight surveyed the situation before stepping over to bring me to my hooves again. “Laurels should be granted to thee, Time Turner. Few could have stood ‘gainst the Old Mind in combat, fewer still would gain victory.”

I brought a hoof up to feel my face. The memory of it being crushed was still fresh in my mind. “I got very lucky,” I said quietly.

“So say most in thy position,” the Knight reassured me as he put an arm around my neck. “Come. Your friend was desperate to find you.”

Colgate stood over a bucket outside, panting.

“What happened at the theatre?” I asked.

Colgate looked back over her shoulder at me a moment before snapping back to the bucket and dry heaving twice. “Turner,” she said between pants, “you’re covered in green.”

I looked down, and sure enough much of my coat was covered in unidentifiable green goo. “I guess I am,” I said just as I started feeling queasy again.

Colgate came to find me again after sunset. Needing to clean myself off, I’d wandered off to the farm’s dam while everypony else resolved what issues remained. The late summer sun had warmed the water but the deepening chill wouldn’t be bearable for much longer.

I’d been feeling woozy for the last hour, with much of it spent removing unidentifiable bits of changeling from my coat. From what I’d found so far, changeling anatomy was weird and un-pony-like. A significant part of their innards seemed to be goo, which while probably magical was also greasy and fatty enough to make it difficult to wash out of my coat. A lot of bruising covered my body, most of it thankfully hidden under my coat, but none of my bones had been broken. The worst injury I’d received was the bite I’d taken to my shoulder from the changeling’s fangs.

“You don’t look too good.”

I looked up from the water at Colgate as she came and sat at the side of the dam. “You should see the other guy.”

A grimace flashed over Colgate’s face briefly. “I wish I hadn’t.”

“Did you feel the time turn?” I asked neutrally.

“From the road,” she replied. “Then the Knight heard something and ran towards the windmill.”

“It was surprised I caught it so badly, I guess,” I said with a sigh. “The first time around I was under that millstone.”

Colgate gasped. “Are you going to be okay?” she said hurriedly. “I’ve heard ponies can get really stressed out after close encounters.”

“I’ll be fine,” I replied off hoof. “Just going to be a while before I calm down, and I’m not sure if my concussion’s coming back or something because I’ve been feeling a little woozy.”

Colgate brushed at the back of her mane. “Uh, the Knight said you probably got a little changeling venom in you from the bite.” When I froze she quickly added, “Nothing too bad, it just kinda makes you a little suggestible for a day or so.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I replied a little stiltedly, while considering consequences. “What happened at the theatre?”

“Everypony else managed to tie up the other changelings while I kept them clocked up, but as soon as I dropped it the changelings woke up, looked around, laughed, and then they all burst into a flame that only left ash behind. It freaked out a lot of the townsponies.”

I nodded, adding, “They weren’t of any more use, and if captured they’d just become evidence that could be used to find their hive.”

“The Knight’s freed your family and gone searching for other pods,” Colgate continued. “They’re ready to see you if you want to go inside.”

I looked down at the cooling water. “Soon. I’ll just sit here a little while longer.”

“I’ll sit with you then,” Colgate said as she stood up. She breathed deeply as she stuck a hoof in the water, stiffened, and then jumped in. Gasping she said, “It’s a little cold.”

“But pure. Look,” I said as I moved a hoof around underwater. Even in the moonlight you could see the entire hoof stand out. “This is dug right into the aquifer from the cave system. The water’s filtered by the limestone.”

Colgate reached out and touched my hoof under the water. “You know I’m here for you right? If you need somepony to talk to or to give you some comfort, I’m here.”

“I—” said before trailing off as I looked at her hoof, following it up the leg toward her face and the slight smile on her face. My heart started beating a little faster.

Colgate leaned forward and pulled me into a hug, her head laid down on my shoulder and my face was covered in her mane. It was slightly damp from the water, but still somehow smelled like mint. For a moment I wanted to follow that sent, to see if the rest of Colgate smelt like mint, but another thought hit me.

The hug reminded me how Carrot Top had often buried my head in her mane back in Ponyville, and the semi-relationship we’d decided to pursue. I also remembered the changeling venom, in hindsight you could easily imagine how a changeling might use it to trap somepony or make them obey its orders.

Summoning up some willpower I gave Colgate a pat on the back and said, “I appreciate it. This sort of thing is why you take friends on adventures. And if you need somepony to talk to as well, I’m happy to help.”

Colgate pulled out of the hug and gave me a smile. “I’m guessing this wasn’t the usual sort of adventure for you?”

I shrugged. “It’s not too far off. Well, it’s not like I normally get armies of changelings. Sometimes it’s a monster, a warlock, or an unearthed relic from the bad old days. Other times it’s just being around when somepony else is in trouble. Mostly it’s just seeing new places and meeting new ponies, but this adventure was a bit of everything.”

“So, what do we do now?” Colgate asked.

“Well,” I said as I stood up. “We’re going to go inside for dinner, and tomorrow will probably be another wedding day.” I gave myself a bit of a shake off as I stepped out of the dam. “Then we help clean up, say our goodbyes, and catch a train back to Ponyville.” Glancing up at the moon I sighed. “This is going to be a heck of a report to write, it’s got everything from new secret enemy creatures to Flash Sentry as an changeling double agent.” I tapped the ground. “I’ll probably have to give this one in person.”

Colgate charged up some magic and blasted all the water from her coat. “You’re going to Canterlot?”

“Probably,” I said with a shrug.

“That’ll be awkward for me,” Colgate said, “still kinda exiled.”

“I’ll just take Carrot Top then,” I replied off hoof, “I did promise she could go on my next adventure.” As a previous train of thought got underway again and headed towards a tunnel, I added, “I should probably take you along as well though, just in case.”

We took a short walk back to the farmhouse. Night had fully settled over Equestria, presumably with Celestia in bed and Luna drinking her evening coffee. Walking in the back door we found Mum over in the kitchen boiling water on the stove with a towel around her head and Dad at the table busily attempting to get something out of his ear.

“Hey, Mum. Hey, Dad,” I said as we walked in..

Mum immediately turned and came to me. “Oh, my son!” she said as she pulled me into a hug, resting her head against mine. “I’ve been so worried.”

I held her. “Mum, you don’t need to.”

“You should worry about us,” Dad said from over at the table. “When I came home this morning and noticed Honey was missing, my secretary decided to whack me over the head.” He shook his head free of the towel and put it on the table. “See this?” He spread it out to show a green stain. “Next thing I knew I was covered in this stuff, and I don’t want to know how those things make it.”

“Sod, you’re ruining the moment,” Mum said. Dad just sighed.

“I think they’re actually made of it,” I said in reply.

Mum released me from the hug and took a step back. “Millie is still in the bath, but she seems fine.”

“Good, she can stay there,” I said bluntly.

“Time…” Mum said with a reproachful glare.

“I’ll be nice,” I said in reply.

Mum’s glare lingered for a second longer before she looked towards Colgate. “Minuette,” she said, giving the only name for Colgate we’d given her, “thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem,” Colgate said with that broad smile, then adding, “anymore at least.”

“It was a shame you couldn’t see it,” I said, “Minuette shutdown the entire changeling attack.” I gave her a smile back. “You wouldn’t believe how absolutely livid the Queen was, ‘a trick’ it called it. I don’t think anypony has ever caught it like that before.”

Colgate blushed.

“She’s not coming back, is she?” Dad asked. “The clean-up from this one is going to be bad enough. The grain out of that mill will never taste the same.”

“I can’t be sure,” I said more mutedly. “It didn’t expect to lose, so we probably got all of the changelings.”

“Great, as long as you got most of them,” Dad said. “The rest shouldn’t cause too much trouble.”

Colgate shot me a worried glance.

“Well… we might have a problem then,” I said neutrally.

Dad’s ear flicked and he glanced toward Mum before asking, “What kind?”

I moved over to sit at the table. “Dad, I was sent here by the EIS, remember?” A frown crossed Dad’s face.

Colgate sat down next to me. “And you said their letter was weird, right? It wasn’t delivered by Derpy for one.”

“True,” I replied. “But I think she was off work anyway because she was looking after Cloud, because her mother went missing.” Colgate nodded with a dejected hum. “Which leads me to my next point,” I continued. “The last correct letter I got said weird things have been happening all over Equestria. Something’s off, the harmony of Equestria is not quite right. Suddenly I get weird set of orders to investigate a case that had been declared closed…” I nodded at Dad.

“By myself, months ago,” Dad added.

“…and we’ve been assigned a guard by the EIS.” Shaking my head I continued, “I don’t normally get guards helping me, and when one’s offered I normally turn it down. But no choice this time, and it turns out to be a changeling.”

“Flash was kinda weird,” Colgate noted, “standing still without moving, and he didn’t come round after the Knight knocked him out.”

“Yep,” I said. “We were supposed to lead him to the bards, probably so the rest of the changelings could jump them. It’s tempting to hope he’d just replaced the real Flash Sentry on the way to Ponyville, but with everything else I can’t help but think the EIS itself has been infiltrated.”

Dad snorted. “Those paranoid whackjobs are supposed to notice that stuff.”

“I’ve worked with more than a few of them,” I said while rolling a hoof on the table. “They’d notice. Infiltrating the EIS would be hard, so you wouldn’t do it unless it was worth it.”

“So whatever they want is big,” Colgate said.

The conversation was interrupted by Mum putting a tray with a teapot, cups, and biscuits on the table. Before Mum could start distributing, Colgate said, “I’ve got it,” and started using her magic to do all the lifting.

Mum took a seat and received a cup from Colgate. “So, there are a lot of changelings then.”

I nodded. “Hives aren’t small.”

“Queen, a few drones, and a lot of workers,” Mum added. “They’ll be feeding one royal jelly now and there’ll be a new queen soon.” Mum took a sip from her teacup. “Could use some more honey,” she said to herself. The honey was probably from Mum’s apiaries outside. She’d know more about bees than almost anypony else.

“So,” Dad said between slurps. “What’s big enough?”

I stirred my tea for a moment before putting down the spoon. “Well, my last good letter mentioned Canterlot hadn’t been hit by weirdness yet.”

“Nothing bad happens in Canterlot,” Colgate recited as she put the honey pot from the kitchen down in front of Mum. “It’s under the Princess’s personal protection.”

“So you draw attention elsewhere,” I countered. “And Canterlot is the centre of Equestria, in much more than just name. Everything’s there: the Princesses, the EIS itself, the Captain of the Guard, the majority of the Archmagi, the Royal Treasury, and even Discord’s statue. If you wanted to really hurt Equestria, you’d hit Canterlot.”

“That’s a rough guess at best, Time,” Dad noted. “Yes, Equestria would be circling the drain if Canterlot fell off its mountain, but it’s stupidly well-guarded because of it.” Dad rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen the damn defence briefs, of the ten standard responses to an attack eight of them involve protecting Canterlot, another is ‘let the Princesses sort it out’, and the only one that proposes using the Guard is ‘spread out and search for clues’.”

“Perhaps,” I conceded, “but I still think something has happened to the EIS.” Again I drummed my hoof on the table. “And I’m the one who’ll probably have to go check on it.”

Mum hummed worriedly. Dad said, “Not alone you’re not.”

I shrugged. “Well, there’s the problem -- I can’t trust anypony when there’s an army of shapeshifters around.”

“I’ll come,” Colgate added.

“That goes without saying,” I replied with a nod toward her. “You’re the only pony who can cast the ‘I win’ spell.” Colgate’s face broke into a grin.

A series of hoof-steps on the old floorboards in the hall heralded a newcomer to the kitchen, my elder sister Mill Turner. Still wearing a towel wrapped around her mane, Mill strode into the kitchen and halted as soon as she caught sight of me. “I’ll just go dry off,” she said and began to turn around.

Mum spoke up with a warning tone, “Millie, Time risked his life to rescue us, I think he deserves a ‘thank you’.”

Mill licked her lips and after a moment said, “Thank you for rescuing me, Time.” Then she walked out of the room.

Dad sighed loudly. I just rested my chin on a forehoof.

“What was that about?” Colgate asked.

“We got into a fight once,” I replied matter-of-fact. “A long time ago. She was the reason I left when I turned eighteen.”

“Time,” Mum began, “you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” I interrupted, “But we couldn’t last any longer under the same roof together. Her destiny was here, it was better that I leave.”

There was nothing more to say on the matter.

The clatter of a cart outside interrupted our honey cake dessert. We all looked between each other, both my mother and father had muzzles covered with honey and pieces of sponge cake. My face was probably as badly covered as my parents, but Colgate’s was still clean because she’d used a fork.

A knock at the door sent me and mine into a rush to clean our faces with the readied napkins, while Colgate grimaced before standing up and announcing, “I’ll get it.”

I spat into my napkin to try and shift some of the honey off my chin. From the hallway, I could hear Colgate’s hoof-steps and the opening of the front door.

“Minuette, it’s good to see you.”

“Page, good to see you too and… is that you, Foil?” Colgate asked.

“This one is often referred to using that name,” said a more distorted voice.

“Right…” Colgate said unevenly and recovered. “Well, come in. We were just having some of Honey’s honey cake.”

“Oh,” Page gasped. “I haven’t had that for nearly a year—” there was a brief pause. “Actually, I think the baby really wants some cake right now.”

“Baby?” Mum said aloud, holding onto her chest.

“This one can smell the love in it,” the distorted voice added.

“Did the Knight—” Colgate began.

“I will be patrolling,” said a fainter voice.

“Well… come on through then.”

A cadence of hoof-steps came down the corridor. Colgate came through first and immediately stepped aside for Page. The corridor’s position in the corner of the kitchen perfectly framed Page’s denser physique. Page had opted for the typical pregnancy dress that most mares wore in their twelfth and final month which has a slight frill to hide ‘other’ developments and frames the baby bump.

“Hi, Mum,” Page said with a wave.

Mum gasped, “Oh my stars!” and galloped across the kitchen to get to Page quickly. “Is this why you wouldn’t come home, Page? You didn’t need to hide it,” Mum said as she felt the baby bump. Mum moved around to Page’s front to nuzzle her. “I’ve missed you so much.” Taking a step back, she added, “Tell me everything: where you’ve been, how long, and who’s the father?”

“This one,” said the changeling standing next to Colgate.

Mum nearly jumped out of her skin, whinnying in fright and stepping back.

“Foil!” Page said angrily at the changeling. Foil grinned, which got another worried yelp from Mum. “Mum, it’s okay,” Page calmingly said as she held a hoof out. “Foil’s a changeling bard from the theatre. It doesn’t hurt ponies.”

“It looks dangerous,” Mum said.

“This one will change into something less threatening then,” Foil said before bursting into green flame, eliciting yet another yelp from Mum.. The transformation left Foil in the guise of a young mare with a light pink coat, blonde hair in a ponytail, freckles, and big green disarming-looking eyes. Foil smiled again, her front teeth showing off an obvious gap between them. “Is this better, Misses Honey Mead?”

“Um…”

“Too cute, Foil,” Page critiqued, “you’ve gone right to emotional whiplash. Try the doctor.”

Foil burst into flame again to reappear as a yellow unicorn stallion. A quick bit of green magic pulled some glasses and a lab coat from somewhere outside to complete the look. “Don’t worry, Mrs Mead, I’m a doctor.”

I nodded my approval from the table and Mum seemed to calm down. Page laughed briefly, “This is the problem with changelings, they’re not very creative. They really do need help from ponies.”

“So you’re the father?” Mum asked.

“Mhmm, and the foal is due in the next week or so,” Foil replied.

“That’s wonderful news,” Mum replied. “Would you all like to sit down?”

“Oh yes,” Page said with a sigh. “My hooves are starting to ache.” The soon-to-be-married couple sat down on one side of the kitchen table while Mum moved to join Dad, Colgate moved to sit by me.

As Colgate sat down she gave me a sidelong glance, and then lit her horn. “You still got some honey,” she said pointing a hoof at my face.

“Where—” I said before a glowing napkin assaulted my face.

“Got it,” she said as she folded the napkin down and placed it back on the table. I glared, but Colgate ignored me as she looked toward the new arrivals. “So, is everything okay in town?”

Foil nodded. “After the drones self-destructed and you left, it took some time to calm everypony down and explain what happened. The troupe performed the same explaining show we gave you this morning and revealed ourselves properly. The entire town knows the Royal Trottingham Theatre is a changeling hideout now, and in a couple of months the rest of Equestria will probably know.”

I ran a hoof in a circle on the table. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry we helped expose you.”

“It wasn’t your doing alone,” Foil said calmly. “The changeling queen had clearly found some rumour about us, so we weren’t going to be secure in our obscurity for much longer. We’ll be relying on the town to protect us from here on out.” Foil gave a knowing nod to Dad.

“I’ll be sure to pass on the bill,” Dad said flatly. “It’s going to be a nightmare looking out for changelings; I’ll have to petition Canterlot for guards and hope they don’t laugh in my face when I tell them that shapeshifters are trying to abduct my bards.”

“They’ll lick their wounds for a while yet,” I replied reassuringly. Crossing my forelegs on the table, I asked, “Did you find the other replaced ponies?”

“We did.” Foil replied with a nod. “The Knight brought the mayor’s secretary back to town with news of what you’d found.” He licked his lips and continued, “The secretary told us it had been a fortnight since she’d been abducted, and since she was the earliest we looked around her workplace.” Foil looked towards Dad, “We found a good twenty pods sitting in your dungeon.”

“Ah, that explains a bit,” Dad said while scratching his chin. “I couldn’t find that key anywhere, not that anypony usually has reason to go down into that claustrophobic heck hole.”

“I think we’ve accounted for everypony,” Page added.

“Good,” I replied, “with everypony safe we can leave tomorrow.”

Mum gasped and a thoughtful look crossed Dad’s face. Foil’s face remained medically calm, but Page spoke out saying, “You can’t leave yet, you just got here and I’m about to give birth in a few days at most!”

Mum asked, “I hope it’s not because of Millie.”

“It’s not,” I said quickly, “It’s…” I glanced toward Colgate.

Colgate frowned, “And there’s still a wedding to see.”

Dad thumped the table. “Couldn’t the bugs get that done at least?”

“Mayor, is it necessary…” Foil began, but Page grabbed my attention by leaning over the table.

“Time, I haven’t seen you in years,” Page said to me. Her lips pursed and cheeks starting to wobble. “Couldn’t you just stop running away from things for a week at least?”

“I’m not running from anything,” I said back while looking Page in the eyes. “I think Cadance might be in serious trouble, and I need to make sure she’s alright.” Page froze at the name.

“How much trouble?” Page asked.

“Do you mean—” Colgate began.

“The changeling hive is probably involved, I’ve got to make sure,” I replied firmly. Page looked pensive for a few moments. “I’ll come back, I promise,” I added.

Page nodded before turning to our parents. “Mum, Dad...”

“—it’s practically a scandal if—” Dad continued to berate Foil until Page rapped the table with her hoof.

“Yes, Page?” Sod asked.

“Mum, Dad,” Page calmly resumed from an elevated position on the table, “Foil and I need to get married first thing tomorrow morning while Time and Minuette are still here.”

“Page,” Mum said, “we don’t have anything ready.”

“I don’t care!” Page shouted. “Everything that’s happened today has been like a trip through the gates of Tartarus. I had peace and quiet yesterday, but now my entire existence has suddenly become a card in somepony else’s chess game.” Page flinched. “And this baby’s definitely got a horn, because it’s been poking me in the flank for the last six hours!”

Everypony sat in shocked silence while Page caught her breath.

Then a thought occurred. I leant over to Colgate and whispered, “You wouldn’t happen to have an X-Ray spell would you?”

“Turner, I’m a dentist,” she replied, “it’s like asking if I can use a drill. I cast it a dozen times a day, easy.”

“Put a spotlight on Page’s flank,” I said. After a few adventures, you start getting a good feeling for when things were going to ‘suddenly’ happen. Colgate stood up and lit her horn up to project a cone of magical light onto Page.

A few things became immediately obvious:

Changeling chitin is visible under X-Ray.

The baby was a changeling.

It was lying flat with its spiky horn pointed towards the exit.

Page’s hips were already making way.

The little bugger wasn’t being very patient.

“Dad if you want to get ahead of this one,” I said with a nod toward the spotlight, “you should probably get the paperwork ready.”

It only took twenty minutes for Dad to get his good paper out and for Colgate to quickly scribe a marriage contract as dictated by Dad from a book that was only a few decades out of date. Mum got Millie out of her room and we all went outside to the dam with a few lanterns to make sure we had a decent backdrop for the ceremony. Princess Luna even seemed to turn the moon up just for the occasion.

Dad stood on the shore with Foil and the Black Knight acting as best man. Colgate used her magic to quickly set up a camera to capture the big moment, while Mum walked Page between the audience of Colgate, Millie, and me. When Page reached the shore she ordered Dad to hurry up and skip to the end because, “It’s trying to pop the bubble”.

Dad quickly asked if anypony had any objections to the wedding, and I shot a glare towards Mill, who simply closed her mouth and grumbled under her breath. Dad then asked both parties if they wanted to be married.

Foil said, “Yes, I do.”

Page said, “Yes, Yes,” and yelped as the foal agreed quite pointedly.

Finally Dad finished off the ceremony. “I now pronounce you Filly and Colt. You may now kiss the bride.”

The pair leant forward, Page throwing her forelegs around Foil as they kissed. It was a wonderful moment, the moonlight seeming to bounce off the water and frame them for a perfect picture. Love was in the air, and the baby managed to pull enough of it out of the air to make its bid for freedom.

There was a popping sound as Colgate fired off the flash powder and caught the scene on film. Colgate giggled quietly and leant over to say, “Looks like they’re Mare and Stallion now.” A small puddle had begun to collect on the ground behind Page as she continued to kiss Foil.

I smiled to myself and whispered back, “This is the best wedding I’ve ever seen.”

The next morning, I woke up with a blue hoof lying over my shoulder. When I looked back over at its owner, I nearly put my eye out on her horn. Colgate was still asleep with her head on my pillow and I found myself up against the wall while Colgate had most of the single-pony bed to herself.

It took a moment to click, but I realised Page would have needed her room back and Colgate must have joined me later in the night once the baby had been delivered. Though I’d never admit it to her, it was nice having somepony else in bed with me. The warmth on my back in the cold bed was comforting. I pulled the hoof closer and shut my eyes again.

Movement from Colgate woke me up properly again. The gentle movement saw me pressed further into the wall for a minute before Colgate started running a hoof up and down my back. “It’s a good morning, Time,” she said to herself with a slight giggle.

My eyes shot to the clock on the wall, and it took me a moment to realise it wasn’t 2:48pm. The clock’s pendulum seriously needed a good push. “What time is it?”

The room glowed light blue as Colgate picked up her pocket watch and showed it to me. “7:30,” she said, while the watch read 7:28am.

“We have to be at the station in an hour,” I said as I tried to roll over. When I moved, the back of my head hit Colgate’s horn. Her magic fizzled and the pocket watch fell onto my face. Appreciate for a moment that a pocket watch is mostly solid metal; my nose got a good bump as it made its way down to mattress level.

Colgate got her horn free and rolled away. “I’ll go get some coffee started then.” The watch took on Colgate’s glow and lifted off again over my head. I rolled myself over a moment later, and caught a glimpse of Colgate, her mane a mess, smiling as she looked back toward me. Another blink of my eyes later and Colgate was going out my bedroom door with a deliberate swish of her tail.

I groaned and brought a hoof up to rub my forehead. She’s definitely falling for me. This is going to be difficult to explain to Goldie. Another shift and I was able to roll out of bed and head towards the door.

“The ground coffee is in the jar next to the stove, dear,” was said as I shut my bedroom door behind me. When I wandered into the kitchen I found two Pages at the table with Mum while Colgate was busy heaping a substantial amount of ground coffee into a drip filter cone. I took a seat at the table and both Pages, whom appeared fairly worn out and looked up at me and spoke, “Morning, Time.” One shifted the bundle of cloth she was holding to show me the occupant, and the other said, “Say hello to Scene.”

I leaned over the table to get a closer look and said, “Hello, Scene.” Scene was a creamy white and more rounded whereas an adult changeling was more edged. Its bright blue solid eyes were looking somewhere in my general direction, while its horn had already developed notches and a point. My eyebrows came together at a thought and I asked, “Is it a filly or a colt?”

“It’s a grub,” one of the Pages explained, but I guessed it was Foil. “Gender means nothing unless the changeling wants it to mean something, and it’ll be another few years before it moults into a more suitable carapace.”

“Fair enough,” I said and waved a hoof around in front of it.

The grub seemed to still as my hoof came close, as I leaned further over the table to get closer it bared a pair of very short stubby fangs and hissed. I shot a glare at it and withdrew my hoof. Somehow I didn’t think my future relationship with my nephew was going to get much better.

A coffee mug filled with black landed on the table in front of me. A glance at Colgate’s mug showed she was drinking the same. I took a tentative sip and nearly spluttered at the strength. “Did you use all the coffee?”

Colgate took a sip and grinned back. “It helps when I have a lot of work to do.”

“And you have it without milk?”

“Once you go black, you won’t go back,” she said and giggled. “It helped me keep up with Twilight.”

“Time,” Mum said from over her cereal bowl. “You can sweeten it with some honey if you want.”

“I might try that,” I said before getting up. I took the coffee cup in my mouth and moved toward the kitchen bench.

“Could you get a pair of bowls and spoons out as well?” Colgate asked. I hummed an affirmative around the cup in my mouth. “You don’t mind if I have some cereal and milk?”

“Not at all, dear.” Mum said. “Could you get that out as well, Time?”

I hummed a ‘yes’ again and set my coffee down on the bench. Everything was where it had always been kept, and when I got each item out Colgate would use her magic to move it to the table. Cutlery flew over first, then the bowls, the Celesti-O’s (now with moons), and the milk bottle. The moment I finished with the honey pot it went over as well. By the time I got back over to the table with my coffee Colgate had already placed the recommended serving size of cereal and milk in my bowl with a dab of honey. I nodded my appreciation and dug in.

“Dad’s gone into town early today,” Mum said. “He’s going to make sure the train runs for you today. Harmony knows Smoke Stack would never disagree. If it weren’t for you both he’d still be stuck in a pod.” Mum looked at the table thoughtfully for a moment and sighed.

Hearing that, Page turned to Mum and asked, “Would you like to hold Scene for a while?”

“Of course,” Mum gleefully said and held her forelegs out to receive it. Page leaned over to give Mum the bundle, taking great care. Once Mum had the grub, she leant back and gave it a rock. Scene burbled a little, Mum smiled and then Scene started the full baby goo-goo routine. “It’s so delightful,” Mum said with a smile and started making baby faces at Scene earning her a few giggles.

I looked up from my bowl for a moment. “Someone’s exploiting a new love source,” I said quietly while milk dripped from my chin.

“All foals are like that,” Colgate replied after pulling the spoon out of her mouth. “They love attention.”

“I can’t help but think there’s more to it in this case.”

Colgate hummed a ‘meh’ at me. “You’ll see differently when you have a foal of your own.”

I glanced over toward Colgate and noted she was watching Scene fairly intently. “It’s funny how you’re talking like that,” I said as neutrally as possible.

“It’s not like we’re getting any younger,” Colgate replied, seeming very unconcerned about what she said as she watched Mum play peek-a-boo with her grand-foal.

I, on the other hoof, was very concerned about what she said. It was like the aftermath of Hearts and Hooves day all over again. All the wedding stuff had probably gotten Colgate thinking about relationships again and the baby was only making things worse.

I bolted down the rest of my breakfast and drained the rest of my coffee as I stood up to head back to my room. I got my saddlebags and started packing: the toothbrush went in, my hat packed away with my watch and ties, and I made the bed up again.

“What’s wrong?” the voice nearly jumped me into a time turn.

I looked back over my shoulder, Colgate stood in the doorway. She’d already brushed her mane and coat, her eyebrows locked up and together as she watched at me.

“Just getting ready,” I said. “We have to go soon.”

“Time,” Colgate said as she stepped in the room and shut the door behind her. “We’ve had our differences, but after the last few days I thought you might be a little more honest with me. What’s wrong?”

I breathed deep, and sighed. “I’m just thinking about us, the whole thing.” I tapped a hoof on the wooden frame of the bed twice. “Like with Caramel.”

Colgate froze. “Oh.” And just like that the air seemed a little colder.

“It might just be my imagination…” I trailed off.

“No, no,” Colgate said as she walked over and sat down beside me on the bed with only a slight swish of her tail. “This is not a Caramel thing. We have a good… thing going, of course, and I did promise Carrot that I wouldn’t go breaking our friendship. Or run off, or do something stupid.”

I hummed, as I held my head on a hoof.

“Though I can see why you might be worried,” Colgate continued. “Caramel was a mistake, and I know that if I ever started to develop feelings again I would let them simmer before acting on them. Though…” she trailed off and turned to look at me. “It’s funny how you’re talking like that,” she said neutrally before her lips took on a thoughtful twist.

“It’s probably whatever that changeling hit me with last night.” I said dismissively as I stood and lifted my saddlebags onto my back. “We should probably get a wiggle on. We need to catch the Canterlot train.”

“We do.” Colgate stood and used her magic to pack her bags in just a few moments before dropping them on her back.

We briefly said our goodbyes. The little grub was enough of a distraction that it didn’t take too long to say them. Mum did force my address out of me so she could visit; she didn’t think I’d actually start settling down.

Colgate didn’t say much on the way into town, though she had a pensive look on her face whenever I looked in her direction as she’d spontaneously looked elsewhere that wasn’t me. As I glanced over I noticed a few things about Colgate that had changed: she held her shoulders higher as she walked, her ears were pointed up straighter, and her mane had a bit more of length and curl in it. The latter actually reminded me of the Future Minuette who’d visited me yesterday, whose hair had been curled into colourful foam.

“So, Minuette,” I said as we walked along. “I’ve been thinking about your case.”

“Hmm?” Colgate said as she looked back at me.

“When we’re in Canterlot I’d like to pay a visit to one of the princesses and get your exile overturned.”

Colgate’s eyes locked open. “Wait.” She swerved to walk right beside me, “Really get it overturned? So fast?”

“You explicitly used time magic to save Trottingham,” I said matter of fact and turned to give her a coy smile. “It’s kinda hard to keep that quiet for long. The EIS will figure out who you are in week or so, whenever some analyst somewhere gets their mitts on the list of time manipulators. There’s probably something like five ponies on that list.”

A smile crept over Colgate’s face. “I suppose there aren’t many blue ponies on that list either.”

“Anyway,” I continued, “you’ve used time magic for good and it’s not inherently corrupting like most illegal magic. So long as you promise not to cause too many paradoxes, I think we can quietly get you a licence or something. I wonder if it’d be easier to get it from Princess Luna?” I mused aloud. As an added bonus, if we went to the palace during the night we might be able to pay a visit to the archives and the Star Swirl the Bearded section. I had a hunch that if Twilight was right about time spells being there, then I might find a few answers.

“It’d be nice to go back to Canterlot,” Colgate said to herself. “I wonder what Twinkleshine’s been up to…”

We heard the peep of the locomotive’s whistle just as we arrived at the station. The carriage slowly moved up to the platform with the town’s little tank engine pushing it along from behind. We broke into a run to the platform steps and found Dad’s secretary waiting for us at the top.

The secretary held up a hoof to stall us. “Mr Turner, Miss Minuette, there’s no rush. We’ve already had word that the Canterlot train is running late.”

“Oh,” I said as I reached the platform. “Is it normally late?”

“It often seems that way,” the secretary replied. “They normally make it up on the downhill run to Ponyville.”

“They should change the times then,” Colgate said.

“Perhaps,” the secretary replied. “There’s not usually a train today anyway, but the Mayor insisted.”

“Nice of him,” Colgate said with a smile my way.

“With everything Dad’s been doing for us,” I said and shook my head with a smirk. “I should run for mayor in Ponyville when the Mayor retires.”

The secretary smiled. “I’d vote for you. Anyway, since we have some extra time, the Mayor has opened the station café if you’d like a quick cup of coffee before your trip.”

“Well, if he’s being that nice,” I looked over at Colgate and she nodded her agreement.

The secretary gracefully nodded. “Right this way.” She led us around and through the door into the stone hut that comprised Trottingham Station. Inside was a bar with a coffee machine behind it and two tables. Dad stood at the bar. Without noticing us he took his cup by the lid and lifted it up in the air to drink.

“Morning, Dad. I hope we’re not interrupting you in your favourite café?”

Dad put his cup down and grinned over his shoulder as Colgate and I joined him at the bar. “It might be soon if the coffee’s always this good.”

Dad’s secretary moved behind the bar and started preparing the machine. “It’s just a skill I’ve picked up over time,” she said pleasantly.

“I’ve got something for you, Time,” Dad said as he slid an envelope face-down over to me. “I got up early so I could use the official stationary and put the mayoral seal on it.”

The letter was thick and sealed with a wax seal stamped with the Trottingham coat of arms: a drama mask, a griffon claw, and a flame surrounded by a horseshoe. I turned it over to find it addressed to, “Their illustrious majesties, Princesses Celestia and Luna.” Underlining in smaller lettering was the note, “To be delivered by care of Time Turner alone.”

“What’s inside?” I asked as two coffee cups were placed in front of Colgate and me.

“My account of the events,” Sod Turner said gruffly. “In detail, with what information we have on the changeling threat, your suspicions about the EIS, and a request for a detachment of guards.” Sod took another sip from his coffee cup. “I don’t want any reprisals, so make sure their highnesses take interest.”

I nodded and took a sip from my cup. It surprised me with a very creamy hit and an almost malt-like cereal aftertaste. I put the cup down and ran my tongue around my mouth. “I might need to have another cup after this.”

“It’s a little heavy,” Colgate critiqued. “Very nice, but not good for keeping yourself awake all night.” Despite the heaviness, Colgate still lifted the cup up to take another drink.

“You’ll have to skip the second round,” Dad said. “You and Giggles over there have a train to catch. Finish your drinks before Smoke Stack starts getting passive aggressive with that peeper of his.”

There was a wet explosion as Colgate giggled mid drink, she put the cup down and covered her muzzle while she giggled a little more.

“Alright, Time,” Dad continued. “We’re letting you get away again, but send us a damn postcard from Canterlot. We’ll need to know things turned out alright.”

“Sure, what card do you want: the Palace, the Red Fort, the waterfalls, or the Royal Gardens?”

“How about the least flippant thing you can find,” Dad grouched. “And Honey and I will be visiting. Do not make me send ponies to hunt you down, because I bloody well will.” He fixed me with a glare, which softened as he added, “It was good to have you back, even if it was brief.”

“It was good to be back,” I echoed stoically.

“Good. Now get going.”

“Uhh,” Colgate said with a wave as she patted down her face with a napkin. “I might need to visit the Mare’s first.”

The Secretary smiled. “Follow me, Miss Minuette,” she said and led Colgate out the café and around the corner.

“Don’t take too long,” Dad called after them.

We went over towards the train. The tank engine itself was facing the back of the carriage so it could push it along instead of pulling. Smoke Stack waved from the cab at the back of the train. “Oi, Time, you guys ready for the run up the hill? Because the git running the Canterlot train always complains if I’m not up there waiting for him.” Stack turned to adjust something inside the cab, but we could all hear him complain, “Not that the ponce is ever on time. Probably spends all his time in a Los Pegasus club hittin’ on all the fillies.”

“It was good seeing you again, Stack,” I called.

Stack leaned back out the cab and waved. “Good seeing you too, Time. Make sure you catch the train again sometime.”

“I will,” I called back with a wave. Dad and I moved over to the carriage and opened the door.

“Now this is where I say ‘bye’,” Dad said. “I’ve got a great big mess to clean up because of you two, and I gotta get back to it.” Dad paused and scanned the horizon around us before holding an arm out. “Alright, come here.” I stepped over and Dad pulled me into a hug. “Have a safe trip, Time.”

“I will, and I’ll make sure to send that postcard.”

“You damn well better.” Dad gave me a couple of thumps on the back and let me go. “See you.”

“See you,” I said with a nod and we both turned and went our separate ways.

I wandered through the carriage and picked out the seat that would give us the best view during the train’s climb up the switchbacks out of the Old Valley. Smoke Stack started pulling the engine’s whistle to hurry up Colgate as I loaded my bags into the luggage rack.

A few moments later Colgate finally stepped onto the train, shut the door, and immediately shucked her bags off into a convenient corner with a relieved sigh. I stood up and made my way over asking, “You want me to put those in the rack?”

“You can, but first…” Colgate advanced on me, threw an arm around my neck and kissed me. Surprised, I didn't resist as Colgate’s tongue slipped into my mouth. The whistle blew and the train began to move, but the world seemed to stand still for us. Colgate’s tongue played with mine. Her saliva wasn’t the minty taste I’d expected though. More like honey. Warmer. Sweeter. Nicer even.

It felt like hours passed by the time Colgate finally withdrew and gazed into my eyes. “I decided I shouldn’t let you get away. So Time, will you be mine?”

I realized then, I should never have fought it.