Mom and Cloud were fighting in the other room.
My ear was pressed against the cup, which in turn was pressed against the door so I could try and catch the muffled argument in the other room. I could only make out one word out of every three or so—even after Mom unloaded on Cloud, I’d been surprised how quiet they’d kept it. I can tell you that it’s never a good sign when you can’t eavesdrop on a fight that should require earplugs for the spectators.
I shifted a little to try and get a little closer to the small gap beneath the door; naturally, my little sister wanted to listen for herself and pressed her ear against my free ear. I shot a glance her way, and in spite of everything, tried not to laugh as she screwed up her face in concentration. Dinky shuffled against me and pressed her head harder against mine.
“I don’t think it works like that, Dinks.” Luna alone knows where she gets these goofy ideas.
“Miss Pinkie said it does.” Well, that explained that. “She showed me how once, ‘cept she used a party horn instead of a cup.”
“Yeah, well, Miss Pinkie’s a little weird like that. 'sides, you probably shouldn’t be listening to this.”
Dinky huffed and stomped a forehoof. “But I wanna hear!”
My ear flicked in annoyance as I pushed her back from me. “Shush up a minute, I can’t hear.”
“What’re they sayin’?” Dinky was pressing against my head hard enough that it was starting to hurt. I pushed her back again and just listened, catching a bit of Cloud Kicker’s voice.
“...complete mess. I know that doesn’t excuse it, but—”
Is she really using her mom as an excuse for cheating on mine? That’s—wow. Just wow. Unbelievable. You think she’d have a little more respect for Missus Gust than to try and use her fresh carcass as a guilt shield. Suddenly, I was glad Dinky couldn’t hear this.
Things were sounding less and less like listening to Rainbow get told off by her moms and more and more like the kind of talk that was gonna end with Mom explaining why Cloud wasn’t coming over any more. And with the kind of excuses dribbling outta Cloud’s mouth, I’d probably be helping Mom talk to Dinky.
Speaking of whom, the little runt finally wiggled away from me and got her ear pressed against the door properly. Lucky for me, things died down a little about then, leaving Dinks murmuring something about them needing to grumble louder at each other. Personally, I thought things had reached a better volume: Mom was really getting mad this time. I only caught bits and pieces at first: a plea from Cloud, a long silence, a small, angry sob from Mom, a few weak excuses dribbling out of Cloud’s mouth whenever she could make them.
“It won’t happen again,” Cloud murmured.
Now there was a promise I’d heard broken, repaired, and broken again more times than I cared to remember. I willed those memories away; he was the last pony I needed to be thinking about right now, especially when Mom was gonna need me after this mess. She’d need me to be there—just actually, honestly be there for her. It’d take Dinky a while to get it, and I really doubted Mom would be up for explaining things to her for a while. That’d make for some awkward playdates, assuming Alula still wanted to come over after all this blew over.
Luna. It was bad enough that this mess was getting dumped on Dinky, but Alula... Gods. Whatever beef I had with her big sister, neither of ‘em deserved to get hurt like that. Losing their mom’s bad enough, but—hay, seeing her like that, just... there, but not there. Laid out to be remembered one more time, then forgotten in the marble garden except by the ponies that weren’t on their way to visit that nag Shadow Kicker’s tomb.
Missus Nimbus deserved better than that.
Mom’s voice brought me back to the present. I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs as she really started grilling Cloud. “Why. Should. I. Trust. You. With. Them?”
“Derpy, I know I’ve screwed up with you, but you have to know I would never hurt them.”
“And you’d never hurt me either, would you?” Mom kinda has her there. Cloud was starting to make a habit of breaking promises and hearts, especially where Mom was concerned. It’s a big enough deal that she went and needled Mom by sleeping with Miss Fluttershy after the mess at the hospital, because that sets such a great precedent for a healthy relationship: ‘If we get in a fight, I’ll go rut somepony else until you see things my way.’
I shook my head in disgust. She should’ve bailed out right then and there, and why Mom decided to go back to Cloud after a warning sign that big is beyond me. Maybe being alone for as long as she had made Mom a bit clingy or something, but that’s borderline Stable Syndrome.
Dinky frowned, her tiny grumble drawing me back to the present. “Hey, Sparky?” she whispered. “What’s ‘agent ascent’ mean?”
“Huh?” No, seriously, what’d that have do with anything?
“Somethin’ Mommy said.” Hmm. I readjusted the cup and went back to listening in as well—and then hastily pulled Dinky away from the door as Mom cut loose with a few choice words that I’m not allowed to use at school.
“Hey!” Dinks glared up at me adorably. “I wanna listen too!”
“When you’re older.” Much, much older. Preferably older than Grampa.
“Aw, c’mon, Sparky!” she whined, though she quickly dropped her voice back down to a whisper. “Everypony’s been sayin’ that about stuff since Cloud Kicker started comin’ over.”
“If everypony’s saying it, it might be a sign that you should listen to them.” Dinks and I both jumped at Uncle Cirrus’ voice. Good Luna, he was quiet when he wanted to be. “Like ‘Go to bed,’ for example. Didn’t Dee already tuck you in for the evening?”
Dinky nodded. “I wanted to see Cloud Kicker though, but Sparky said that her an’ Mommy hadta talk about Grown-Up Stuff for a bit first, so we’re here waiting for them to finish.” She looked up at Uncle Cirrus with that sad pouty face of her that, were she any other pony, I would swear she practiced in the mirror. “I don’t understand all the words they’re usin’ though, an’ Sparky won’t tell me. Could you listen an’ tell me?”
Uncle Cirrus shuffled on his hooves like Dinky when she got caught raiding the cookie jar. Heh. If I had to guess, he’d probably come to listen in on things for himself. I’d heard about the last time Cloud had tried to come over and talk to Mom way, way long ago, and ... well, if I was honest with myself, if it had been me and Dinky, I can’t say I’d’ve done things much differently.
Well, scratch that. I dunno if he would’ve just let Cloud use her mom as a guilt shield like that. She’d only been his CO for the past couple of years. Hay, he probably knew her better than Cloud by this point, and if I had to guess he probably respected her as something a little more than a convenient cover for rutting the wrong pony.
It sounded like Mom was on a similar tangent: “...you’re sorry? You lie to me and rut that whorse, and then you have the gall to use your mother's passing as an excuse for everything you’ve done?”
“Yeah, I know it’s not good enough. But what else is there? How many other ways are there to say that I made a big mistake in a moment of weakness?” You know, Cloud, you could just quit digging yourself into a hole with sorry excuses and slither out of the door. Just a thought. “Now I just want to find a way to make it up to you.”
“No. I don’t believe you. It’s too late for any more promises. I don’t trust you.” Oh, thank Luna, Mom’s finally catching on. It’s never a good sign when the hormonal teenager has a better feel for relationships than their parent. “I’m not sure I can ever trust you again after what you just pulled—and if I can't trust you, you're not coming anywhere near my children.”
That’s not an ominous ultimatum at all. I was past caring about Cloud, but I wondered how this was gonna turn out for Dinky and Alula. Luna, that poor kid; I really hoped we could figure something out for her. Losing her mom like that’s awful, I really, really hoped there was a way she could at least keep seeing her best friend when she needed her the most.
Hay, I wanted to keep seeing her too. I’d gotten to know her a little bit while we’d been keeping an eye on her, and honestly? Something about me wanted to just Show Up for her like I did for Dinky when she was down—just be there and let her cry or shiver, or even just sit there while I held her. Seeing Alula all quiet like that scared the absolute hay out of me; until she broke down in her dad’s embrace, I wasn’t even sure she was all there anymore. That’s a huge hit to take and just not react like that.
All I know is if that happened to my mom, it’d probably kill me.
“Sparky?” Dinky’s voice pulled me back to the present, and I shook the cobwebs away again. “Is Cloud Kicker gonna go away?”
“It sounds like it,” Uncle Cirrus muttered, and I nodded my agreement. I’d had a feeling this talk was coming since I’d overheard bits and pieces of Mom’s talk with Miss Fluttershy on the ride to Canterlot. I still had no idea what I was gonna tell Dinky, but the way I saw it, Mom would be doing most of the work anyway.
“But I don’t want her to go away forever!” Dinky whined, a little too loudly. “She’s rilly nice an’ she always talks to me, an’ I rilly lo—”
“She’s not going away forever.” I cut her off before she could finish that thought. “It’s not like her mom, it’s … she’s just not gonna be coming over anymore, is all.”
“But why!?”
“GET OUT AND GET AWAY FROM ME!”
Well. That answered tha—
There was a dull smack, a thud, and then silence.
That … that … no. Nopony moved. None of us made a sound. The sound echoed over and over again in my head, a thousand different ways things could have played out. Uncle Cirrus tensed next to me, like he was gonna charge in if he heard another hit. He probably would, really.
Mom’s half-growl was the only warning I got that somepony was coming to the door, giving me just enough time to pry Dinks away. It was Cloud that opened it, with Mom close behind her. She gasped when she saw us all here.
If I thought Uncle Cirrus looked guilty before … Mom had no excuse and she knew it. She’d hit somepony. Worse, she’d hit somepony that she’d cared about. Even if she had an honest-to-Luna reason to hate her now, Cloud had been somepony Mom cared about enough to let her guard down for, and let her in her life.
And she’d hit her.
“Girls.” Mom shot us a look that brought an old, long-forgotten feeling out, something I haven’t felt in years. It wasn’t maternal concern, or the ‘do-as-I-tell-you’ authority she so rarely had to use with us. It was just anger—cold anger that things weren’t going exactly like she thought they should’ve. “Go to your room.”
My jaw about hit the floor when Dinky out-and-out ignored her and trotted forward to give Cloud a hug. Cloud nuzzled her back gently, if a little hesitantly.
“Dinky Doo,” Mom snapped, “let go of her and go to your room. Now.”
Oh Luna, I did not miss that look in her eyes. For one, brief second, a flash of anger consumed the maternal warmth I was so used to seeing in her like dry leaves on a campfire. More and more I was seeing fragments of another pony in her, somepony who’d foster obedience through force as much as love. If anything, though, Dinky’s grip on Cloud only got a little stronger. Let go, for the love of Luna, let go, let go letgoletgoletgo...
“I got her.” It took me a second to realize that I’d just said that, or that Dinky was away from Cloud and in my hooves. She latched onto me tight enough that I swore I was seeing spots. Cloud made a sound—maybe to try and say something, though given Dinky’s hugs she was more likely catching her breath. I turned to go and—
Luna’s dark night.
A hoofmark was square over Cloud’s eye—no way that wasn’t going to blossom into a full-on shiner later. I’d heard the hit, but … holy hay. I’d never had a shiner, per se, but I remembered feeling more than one hoofprint like that. He made a point of never leaving marks anywhere that other ponies were likely to see.
It was past time to go. We should’ve gone to bed, shouldn’t’ve been here for this. Forget magic, Dinky went right into my hooves. I kept Mom in my field of vision, shielding Dinky from her as I carried her out of this mess and back to our room. We’d almost made it out of sight when Dinky made things a lot more complicated.
“Bye, Cloud Kicker.” She popped up over my shoulder and waved. “I love you, 'kay?”
“Can it,” I hissed. She just had to go and say that, didn’t she? “Shut up a little, we gotta go upstairs.”
“Nuh-uh! Cloud Kicker loves me, an’ I love her too! I wanna go see her again!”
Dammit, Dinks, this was gonna be ugly enough already. “Dinks, look...” I’d been hoping to put off this talk as long as I could—probably for a few days, after we’d gotten back to Ponyville. Let the fallout settle a bit first, and give me some time to break down why Cloud wasn’t going to be a part of our lives anymore. I carried her up to our room and locked the door behind me.
“Sparky!” Dinky whined. “I wanna go see Cloud Kicker!”
“No.” I wasn’t budging on this one. Literally—I actually sat down in front of the door. “She’s taking some time away from us, so going to see her’s just gonna make things worse.”
“Izzit ‘cause Mommy hit her?”
There really aren’t words in any language I knew of to describe how messed up it was, hearing that question come from her mouth.
“No,” I said again. “That’s a separate thing, and it’s why we’re gonna stay here for a little bit. It’s, um...” I tried to think back, delving into years-old memories of another little filly whose name I couldn’t remember anymore. How did I lay it out for her when he went on the warpath...? “It’s like hide-and-seek, okay? You’re gonna look for some of the best places to hide in the room, and you can practice hiding. I’ll sit here and make sure Mom doesn’t cheat and come in early, okay?”
Dinky stomped her hoof. “I don’t wanna play hide-an’-seek! Mommy an’ Cloud Kicker gotta go say they’re sorry an’ make everythin’ better!”
A knock at the door derailed whatever I was gonna say back to her. Old instincts kicked into gear as I felt my heart rate skyrocket, and my horn briefly glowed as I got ready to slide one of the beds into place in front of the door. I would’ve done it outright, but I got some weird … I dunno, feedback in my head when I tried to pick it up. I didn’t know what it was, but it was new and screwing with my magic, and I didn’t like it.
I could stomach a little interference if it really boiled down to it. Either way, though, the sound of the bed scraping out of place would be pretty suspicious, so I checked myself until I knew who was knocking. Not that that stopped me from double-checking the locks, though.
“Sparky, lemme out!” Dinky whined again. “I dunwanna stay in here anymore!”
Shut.
Up.
Dinky.
There was a long silence—long enough that I wasn’t sure whoever knocked was still there, although I doubted that they’d just walked away. I was about ready to move the bed in front of the door anyway when I finally heard a voice. “Sparkler?”
I breathed a small sigh of relief when I heard Uncle Cirrus’s voice. I was about to open the door for him when I realized that I still had no idea who else was on the other side of the door. “Hey. Um … you alone?”
“Your mom’s downstairs, if that’s what you’re asking.” Good enough for me. It struck me as a little silly, how futile the lock was even as I undid it to let him in; he probably knew about half a dozen breaching techniques as a member of Machwing Company. If he really wanted in, he’d make his way in. I shook that thought away and opened the door, then quickly re-locked it after he came in.
Dinky bolted over to him and latched on, staring up pleadingly into his blue eyes. “Uncle Cirrus! Sparky’s not lettin’ me go! She says we’re playin’ a game of hide-and-seek with Mommy, ‘cept I don’t wanna play right now ‘cause Mommy an’ Cloud Kicker need t’ go an’ make up for whatever happened—an’ I wanna go see Mommy, an’ then Cloud Kicker, but Sparky’s not lettin’ me leave!”
“Easy, Little Muffin, easy.” Uncle Cirrus stroked her back tenderly. He shot a brief look my way, and I reflexively tensed up on the spot. It was all right, though—he actually backed me up. “You don’t have to play hide-and-seek if you don’t want to, but your mommy and Cloud Kicker both need some space right now.”
“But I wanna go see ‘em!”
He paused for a moment to mull over his words. “Now’s not the best time, all right? They need alone time right now, so how about giving your Uncle Cirrus some company until then?”
“Yeah,” I cut in. “Why don’t you go find your Battle Clouds board? You know how much Uncle Cirrus loves a good game.” Actually, he hated Battle Clouds. For a pony who was so good at Lunar, you think he’d be able to pick up on something a little simpler.
Either way, Dinks grudgingly trudged to her bed and started fishing out the board game. While she was distracted with that, I went over to Uncle Cirrus. “Hey, uh... can you stick with her for a bit?”
His eyes widened a little in surprise. “How long’s ‘a bit’?”
“‘Til morning? I mean, I know you’ve got work and all, and after what happened to Missus Nimbus, you’re probably gonna be busy and all...”
He shook his head. “Machwing Company is a first-response unit. High-profile investigations like this have to be handled by the spooks.”
From the look on his face, it wasn’t hard for me to guess that he’d rather be with the rest of his buddies tracking down and hurting whatever was behind Missus Nimbus’s murder. I didn’t doubt for a second that everypony else he worked with felt the same way.
Some Guard units have something of an elitism problem—if you’re not a member of Clan Kicker, not gonna be absorbed into the clan through a marriage or at least show some kind of interest in the mess of a religion they spawned, you’re just kind of sub-pony. I get that not all Kickers’re gonna be like that, but I hadn’t missed how a fair number of ‘em had been quite okay with pushing Uncle Cirrus to the back of the crowd at the funeral, either. Yeah, somepony could feasibly say that he wasn’t related to Missus Nimbus, but the high risks that came as a part of Machwing Company meant that everypony in it was as close as siblings.
And they’d all just lost their mom.
The fact that he was here at all probably meant that he’d been granted some kind of bereavement leave, if I had to guess. Give him time to adjust and whatnot. That worked for me. “Are you at least gonna be able to spend part of tonight with Dinks?”
“It’s where I want to be anyway, all things considered.” He looked me over, as if just seeing me for the first time. “Why? Where’re you going to be?”
“I need a bit. I just...” I sighed. I needed some time to clear my head. I actually wanted to talk to him, but with Gramma and Grampa visiting family out of the country, there just wasn’t anypony else to keep an eye on Dinky. “I gotta clear my head a little. Don’t let Dinky be alone until I get back, all right?”
“She’s not, Sparkler. Dee’s still—”
“Don’t even think about it,” I cut him off. “Don’t let those two be around each other until I get back, all right?”
He opened his mouth to argue, wings flitting in what I’d guess was aggravation. I was a little surprised when he stopped, and then nodded. I cast one quick look at Dinky, then unlocked the door and headed down the hallway. I passed a sobbing mess of a pony on my way through the manor. She might’ve even said something to me.
I didn’t stick around to hear it. Instead, I stepped out the front door and into the night.
You know, something I’d never realized before is just how big Canterlot is. It sounds silly, given how many times I’ve visited in the past, but whenever I’ve gone out on the town before there was always a crowd. Even the time Uncle Cirrus took me to a DJ-P0N3 concert last year, there’d been something of a crowd on the streets with us on the walk home—I think. I’d been a little wiped out after the whole thing, and he’d wound up carrying me back.
Still, even on the way to it, there’d been ponies out and about on the streets. The hustle and bustle of ponies walking, standing, milling around—just being there seemed to make the city fill out a little. The streets seem just a little too big without all the bodies here. It was so late that the only ponies around were the occasional gendarme patrol, or else somepony scrambling past me for some late-night … whatever it is ponies do in Canterlot. I knew better than to go near the back alleyways, but there was still a really strong sense of being alone.
And the worst part of it is, I felt safer out here than back at Gramma and Grampa’s place.
What happened … it’d crossed a big, fat line. It was so rare to see her get upset. She’d always been careful to take time to herself if she’d had a bad day, and on the rare occasions when Dinky was being more than she could handle, either Rainbow or I would take over for a bit. I’d never, ever seen her get violent before, but I guess I know what she was doing when she’d taken the time to herself, huh?
It seemed so wrong to think about a mare with her outlook like that. I mean, it’d been so, so long since the last time I’d been scared being around her, not in over two years. And even then, she’d spent so much time with me—talking, caring, just being there for me, trying to show me that she wanted to love me as her daughter, in spite of how much I’d dragged my hooves.
I’d been scared to death of her, back then, and even more than now. I’d never told her about it, but being bounced around in Foal Services for most of my life meant that I’d heard more than a few ugly rumors. It was stupid, now that I think about it: jealous bullies would say anything to lash out, especially when their targets were big enough to hit back if they tried to get physical. I’d just shrugged it off at the time like I always did, but then...
But then I’d gone home with a pony only a decade and a half older than me, and suddenly all those rumors about why lonely, single ponies adopted older kids stopped being so hard to ignore.
She’d worked so hard to get me to open up, spent so many weeks just gently encouraging me, giving me enough space to adjust, wearing down my reservations a little at a time. Kind words, patient smiles, and as much time with Dinky as I wanted. Spending time with Dinks helped, a bit; I’d been kind of the big sister in Foal Services, so being with her just felt like a natural part of acclimating.
But all the time and acclimation could only go so far. I felt the hoof after settling into bed and … Luna, I thought that was it. But it wasn’t. I got a nuzzle, a kiss, a ‘goodnight,’ and a sense that this pony really couldn’t love me any more if I’d been pulled from her womb.
I’d spent almost ten minutes thinking about that before I realized I’d peed myself when I felt her hug me.
Things had come a long, long way since then—far enough that she’d gone from being ‘Miss Doo’ to ‘Mom.’ All that fear and tension, everything I’d been so scared of thanks to those damn stories got buried under an avalanche of maternal compassion and bubbly smiles, and just out-and-out love. And one solid hit brought all that back in spades. Luna damn it, I can’t just ignore that.
I was only kinda paying attention to where I was going. I think best when my hooves are moving, but it wasn’t until I came across a railing looking over the city that I realized how far I’d gone. Princess Luna’s moon gave me just enough light to see that only one or two of the street names rang any bells. In the daytime, I might’ve been able to work my way back given a few hours—but, by the same token, I could have also asked anypony around for directions without worrying about them trying to pull me into an alleyway.
I suddenly realized how quiet everything was around me. Metal-shop hoofsteps of a gendarme patrol echoed faintly from ... I think it was one of the alleyways to my left. Maybe. Going back to Doo Manor didn’t really sit well with me, but in hindsight I could’ve done things a little differently. I was about ready to turn back and try and see if I could spend the night with Uncle Cirrus and Dinks when I heard a voice behind me.
“Hey.”
There were no two ways about it, I did scream a little. In my defense though, I’d heard absolutely nothing to indicate that there was anypony near me at the time. I whirled in place, horn glowing as I desperately scrambled out of hoof’s reach. I’d only taken a few self-defense classes, but one of the most basic rules about fighting a unicorn was hitting their horn. It’s not quite as debilitating as a kick in the ‘nads, but it still knocks out magic just long enough to leave you vulnerable to a follow-up attack.
“Hey,” the pony said again. “Sparkler, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me.” Lucky for me, I recognized the pony behind me from something other than a crime report: I’d seen a couple of ponies with a dark, speckled coat around the city, but the magnifying glass on her flank definitely rang familiar. She—oh. Oh. She was one of Cloud’s cousins, the pony I’d been talking to after Missus Nimbus’s funeral. I eased up and cancelled the Crush Spell I’d been preparing.
“Stor—” Wait, no, Storm had wings. “Star Kicker?”
“Yup, that's me.” Huh. Master of wit and originality, this one.
“Cool.” I nodded and walked over to her, suddenly feeling a lot less exposed. “Isn't it a little late for you to be out?”
Star shrugged. “I was taking a walk. What's your excuse?”
Touché. I hadn’t caught how old Star was, but I figured that she had a year or two on me, being a cadet at West Hoof and whatnot. I chewed things over for a second before giving her the best answer I could: “It was getting a little crowded. I wanted some space.”
“Yeah?” Star fell into step beside me as we started walking. “Just the usual family getting on your nerves?”
“I've got a thicker coat than that.” Which was true enough. Some of the brats floating around Foal Services had pretty much immunized me to all but the worst teasing. “It's ... a bit bigger, if I'm honest.”
She shifted a little closer to me. “How bad?”
“I'm out on my own. At night.”
“Yeah, there are some part of Canterlot where cute mares shouldn't be wandering around alone at night.”
Huh. True enough, I guess. “I didn't really think about that, just—” I sighed. “I just needed to get out for a bit, y'know?”
“Yeah, think I know what you mean. Still, think I better stick with ya for a while.”
I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder as I stepped closer to her. I won’t lie, the fact that I’d run into her first instead of somepony else was a big, big arrow that I’d dodged. “I think I'll take you up on that. Last time I was out here this late, my uncle 'n’ I were coming back from a concert. And even then, he's ... not a small pony.”
“Oh, I'd love to see some punk try to mug me.” I couldn’t quite call Star’s grin overconfident, but it did remind me of my godmom a little. “It’s just a question of how I kick their flanks: spells, or hooves.”
Damn it. I couldn’t quite hide the flinch at ‘hooves.’ Thanks, life, let’s just step over this nice little reunion with a hard reminder, hmm?
“So...” Star said. “What's up?”
“Stars.” Not to mention there was one beside me as well, but let’s not get hung up on details. “Looks like Princess Luna's been busy.”
“Yeah. So why ya dodging the question?”
No, no—bad Star, you’re not supposed to ignore the red herring like that. I sighed and bowed to the fact that she wasn’t gonna let this just drop without an answer. “I saw something I didn't like. Really, really didn't like.”
“Right...” She scooted a little closer and gave me an encouraging nudge. “What was it?”
“Somepony I thought I knew getting violent. I mean—not like Guard-violent, where it has to happen. Just violent.” The words fell out of my mouth almost before I knew I was speaking. I dunno why I suddenly felt the need to spill my guts to her; maybe ‘cause Uncle Cirrus wasn’t around, or even that I wasn’t ready to talk to him about it yet either. Maybe it’s just ‘cause Star was there, and listening.
“Oh.” Star’s tone was pretty subdued. It didn’t take a genius for her to figure out which pony’d gotten violent, or with whom. Or even why, really. “That'd do it. How bad was it?”
Oh, nothing too bad. Just ignore the fact that I’d temporarily run away from home over it. I mean—really, did she really not see the ‘I’m-not-sure-I-wanna-talk-about-it’ look on my face?
She chewed her lip for a moment, then asked, “Anything I can do?” Huh. I guess she did see it.
What could she do, really? Hay, it felt wrong just thinking that. Seriously, here was a mare that’d just buried her aunt asking me if there was anything she could do? If anything, I felt like I should be asking her that. Uncle Cirrus wasn’t gonna be able to keep an eye on Dinky forever, and even though he probably had to go back to the Machwings before too long, I wanted to see him again anyway. Then again, with Gramma and Grampa out of the country, Dinks wouldn’t have anypony to be with while I talked to him.
Well, almost anypony, but as far as I knew, Rainbow and Miss Fluttershy were still hanging around Cloud, so that was off the table. Lyra too, really, but even if I got her in I’d still have to find a foalsitter. She and Dinks have a little too much in common, sometimes.
Star cleared her throat, bringing me back to the present. Oh, yeah—she had asked me a question, hadn’t she? “I guess... d’you mind if I stick with you for a bit more? I'm not ready to go back yet.” A sudden thought struck me as I felt a small breeze on my flank. “...that, and the key to the manor's in my saddlebags.”
Mental note, Sparky: next time you go fleeing into the night, be sure to grab your saddlebags first.
Star gave me a reassuring smile. “Yeah, sure, no problem. Mom and Dad were working on dinner when I left.”
Dinner, huh? That actually didn’t sound too bad; I’d missed out on lunch, on account of the massive breakfast in the castle following Missus Nimbus’s funeral. About the only good thing I can say about a Cult of Shadow funeral (or funerals in general—or the Cult of Shadow, really) is that they do provide for the living. “S'probably a dumb question for Kickers, but you got room for one more at the table?”
“Mom and Dad were making casserole, we'll be eating leftovers for days.” She shot a quick glance down an alleyway, then shrugged and turned down into it. I wasn’t quite sure about some of the alleyways at night, but if the West Hoof cadet thought it was clear enough to lead the way in, I guess that was safe enough.
“Oof. Yeah, family that size, you'd have to make battalion-sized meals wouldn't you?” I followed her in, keeping just a little behind her.
She glanced back, then took another half-step forward. I think she was spacing us out a little bit. I was just out of hoof’s reach from her head, now, far back enough that I could make out the tiny little hoofprints on her cutie mark. “We don't cook for the whole clan. It's usually just me, Stormy, and my parents.”
I couldn’t help but shoot a glance at the body beside me. Star wasn’t much bigger than I am, and very little of what I could see jiggled. “Where d'you put it?”
“Lotta exercise. Plus, like I said, leftovers.”
Right, and I’m a duchess. “What d'you do, run marathons or something?”
Star snorted and shook her head as we emerged from the alleyway and back onto the street. “Geeze, you make it sound like I'm shoveling food into my face all day or something.”
“Well I know you don’t now.” Danger, Mare Robinson, danger! Clarify, clarify! “Not that I'd suspect you were any kind of overindulger or anything like—oh Luna, I'm just gonna shut up now.”
She slowed down a little and brought her head back in line with mine, probably so I could see the muffin-eating grin plastered on her face. “Nah, keep digging yourself deeper. It’s fun to watch you flounder.”
“Now I get where Cloud gets it from.” It was an accident when my tail arced out to swat her.
Star swatted me back. I totally didn’t yelp. “What's that supposed to mean?”
“If you were any more of a smartflank, your plot would be giving lectures.”
“And you’d come to watch, wouldn’t you?” she quipped with a grin. “‘Sides, you don’t really have a lot of room to talk.”
“What can I say? It's a gift.” One that’s gotten me into trouble a few times, but I’ve never lacked a good comeback.
Star nodded at a gendarme patrol we passed as we took a crossroad. She was pretty much leading by this point—if I’d been to this part of Canterlot before, I didn’t recognize it. “So, you like carrot casserole?
“If it's done well, yeah.” Outside of my home, most ponies understand that a meal done well and a meal well-done were usually two different things.
“Dad's a good cook.” Hopefully her dad was better at culinary practices than religious ones. My long-suffering stomach gurgled its faith in Star’s assessment, eliciting a small grin from her. She picked up her pace a little bit, which I found oddly comforting; regardless of where we were heading, she knew where she was going. “So ... small talk?”
I shrugged. “Whatcha wanna talk about?”
“I dunno.” She shrugged in return. “What's life like in Ponyville?”
“It kinda flip-flops between everyday shenanigans and sheer battiness.”
Star snorted at that assessment. “Sounds like West Hoof and the clan, then.”
The skeptical look I shot her way would have made Miss Twilight proud. “You have ponies that can set cereal on fire?”
I heard her laugh beside me, and she looked at me, as if waiting for me to say, ‘Gotcha!’ Her eyes went a little wide when she realized the punchline wasn’t forthcoming. “Okay, that's a new one on me.”
“Don't even get me started on the flaming tornado.” Watching her try to figure out whether I was being serious or not was more fun that it probably should have been.
“Oookay.” I could hear the gears turning in her head as we started walking back. “Maybe Ponyville has us beaten on the crazy level.”
“Probably,” I laughed. “Those're the vanilla disasters. Shenanigans from my family don’t even begin to account for the occasional mad god or Everfree monster.”
“Yeah, I heard about a couple of those. And the Discord thing had me searching for my keys for two days.”
“Say what now?” Now this sounded like a story.
“S’nothing too interesting,” Star grumbled in annoyance. “It messed up all my tracking spells, and I'm way too used to just keeping track of everything that way.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Star running around with her horn glowing as she furiously tried to sort out what tracker went with what, the muted battle cry of ‘Where are my keeeeeys!?’ echoing through the Kicker compound. Hay, if she were half as bad as Miss Twilight, furniture and ponies’d go flying through the air, bowled aside in the mad rush to re-sort which tracker went with what.
Or whom, really; the joke stopped being so funny as the gears began turning in my head. My eyes narrowed, burrowing into her skull.
“What?” she asked.
“Out for a walk, huh?”
Star nodded. “Yup.”
“Uh-uh.”
“‘Uh-uh’ what?”
Oh, come on, don’t play coy. “You have a lot of trackers out and about?”
“A decent number of them,” Star replied neutrally. I briefly wondered where in the gendarme she wanted to go; if she could be that deceptive while telling the absolute truth, she could be a scary good detective.
I wasn’t letting her off the hook that easily, though. “Any on ponies?”
“A few.”
Oh for Luna’s sake... Getting a straight answer outta her was harder than getting Dinky to leave the cookie jar alone. “So you just randomly slap trackers on ponies, then?”
“Mostly on the ponies I care about.” She shuffled on her hooves a bit. “For a while I stopped having them on ponies at all, but after Aunt Nimbus...”
Oh. Feathers, now I felt like a total mule. “Hey, hey ... c’mere.” I pulled her into a hug, not quite sure what else I could do to apologize. She probably wasn’t hurting as bad as her uncle or her cousins, but I still coulda done better than put my hoof in my mouth like that.
“S’just...” Star gave me a quick little squeeze back, taking a minute before she spoke again. “S'good, knowing my family's safe, is all.”
I thought back to Dinky and Uncle Cirrus, and about how I knew that no matter what else, she’d be okay with him. Knowing that they were back home, that they’d still be there when I got back, alive and safe … it’s not really something I can put into words, having that kind of peace of mind about ponies I love as much as them.
I couldn’t even begin to imagine how that must’ve been eating at her all this time, not able to find her aunt for Luna-knows-how-long, and then finding what was left of her because she’d passed up a chance to keep an eye on her. I guess I could forgive a little paranoia on her part, in light of that. If I were in her horseshoes, I’d wanna keep pretty close tabs on my family too.
Although that still didn’t explain why she had one on me. I gave her another quick squeeze, then idly started running a hoof down my back. As much as I hated to think bad about her right now, she’d been awfully huggy at the reception...
Star rolled her eyes and shot me a small grin, in spite of the circumstances. “Just go ahead and ask already.”
I did. “Where are they on me?”
“Sheesh, not even gonna ask if I've got a tracker on you first?”
“‘A’ tracker?” If she was half as careful as she admittedly had reason to be, there was no way she just had one on me.
She snorted. “Fair enough. C’mere, I guess...” She gingerly ran a hoof through my mane as her horn glowed in some kind of spell. I didn’t physically feel where she pulled the tracker from, but the second it was off of me, that magical interference I’d felt back at the manor got cut in half.
“That’s what's been causing that stupid feedback? How many did you even have on me?!” Sonuva nag, that’d been bugging me all day!
Star’s horn stopped glowing as she hastily tucked her hoof away. “Dunno what you're talking about, I just had the one.” There was another, sudden absence as her hoof wandered down my back, and then the buzz was gone altogether.
“Star!” Okay, seriously—when the hay did she put that one there!? What’s even crazier is that her hoof stopped halfway to her saddlebag, her eyes darting from me to the tiny little diamond in her hoof and back again.
“What? It was just the one tracker on you.” Damn, but her poker face was good. If I hadn’t magically felt her pull her little gem off of me, I’d’ve probably bought her hurt look.
“My magic doesn't feedback any more.” I had enough to deal with already without my escort to—well, wherever lying to me. I didn’t even know where we were going anymore, and while I’d take Star as a guide over some random pony in the alleyway, I could just as easily track down one of the gendarme patrols.
Star seemed to realize that, and she suddenly looked less like she’d just watched me kick a three-legged orphan puppy and more like a pony caught with a hoof in the cookie jar. “Sorry, I just ... fine. Okay, I put trackers on Cloud's friends, including you. She needs you guys right now.”
I couldn’t really argue with that, although I was still more inclined to stick with Alula rather than Cloud. Then again, I wasn’t about to pull a little filly away from her daddy after she’d just buried her mom. Luna, but this whole mess sucked from start to finish.
Star looked up at me, her ears flattened against her head. “We okay?”
“Tell me first next time?” All things considered, I couldn’t really blame her for wanting to keep an eye on ponies for Cloud, but I’d damn well like to know if I’m being tracked. Not that it makes much difference, but the illusion of consent goes a long way for a lot of ponies.
“Will do,” she said with a nod. “So ... mind if I put it back?”
Yeah, I kinda did actually. Maybe she missed the part about headaches? “Can you tweak it first, or something? I'm not kidding about the feedback, it's like ... I dunno, some kinda white noise in my head whenever I try to use magic.”
“That's weird—I’ve never had an issue like that before.” Star looked over her gem, which was almost invisible in the night’s half-light. “I don't suppose you would mind helping me nail down the problem? Only thing I could think of is if you're...” She chewed her lip, then just decided to say it. “Well, no offense, but only if your casting was sloppy and you’re throwing a lot of raw magic around.”
I bristled a little at that. It’s a little hard to explain to non-unicorns, but to simplify a little, getting told that you’re bleeding magic when you’re spellcasting is like saying that your hoofwriting’s a little hard to read—and the more you waste, the harder it is to read your hoofwriting. Basically, Star’d just told me that she’d have an easier time cracking Voyneigh Manuscript.
I wonder if contemporary conventions of war protect against torturing analogies?
Either way, though, even with the headaches and feedback and whatnot … I guess I could take it as a compliment that I was important enough to Star to keep a magical eye on. Star gave me another quick squeeze, and then led the way again, a little more chipper than before. We went on for a few blocks, side-by-side in silence, before outta nowhere she started giggling.
“What’s so funny?” Let it never be said I’m not a sucker for punishment.
Star shook her head, a smile still playing on her dark lips. “Oh, the things I did to Stormy back when I was younger.” She turned to me. “Word of advice: never let your younger sister learn tracking spells.”
Something about her tone of voice told me that there was a story to be had. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why?”
“Well, there was the time I tracked Stormy when she snuck out to the clan brothel.”
To this day, I haven’t the foggiest idea how I managed to stay upright on the cobblestones that made up the walkway, since I was laughing hard enough that I could’ve tripped on a flat surface. “When did this happen?”
“Long ago enough that I wasn’t quite filled in on the Facts of Life just yet, beyond the hypothetical stuff. There’s a pretty huge gap between getting The Talk and actually seeing it in action.” Or your sister in action, rather. I opted against psychologically scarring her and didn’t say that out loud. “That got fixed that evening, after I asked about what I’d seen. At dinner. With Mom, Dad, Uncle Tore, Aunt Nimbus, and Cloud all there. I thought Storm was gonna die of embarrassment.”
Oh Luna, I wish I could've seen that! We giggled like idiots as we walked down the road—me from trying to imagine what that scene looked like, and Star probably just from remembering it. It was probably one of those times you just can’t put a price tag on, that you actually had to be there to appreciate.
Not that I wasn’t dying from laughter anyway, but details.
By the time we both caught our breath, we’d reached a part of the city that looked at least vaguely familiar to me. It wasn’t quite Sketchy's Salads, or any of the other places near Doo Manor that I’d gone to, but a quick glance at one of the street signs revealed a few familiar-sounding crossroads.
“We're in the cloud district now,” Star said, almost as if reading my thoughts. That probably wasn’t too much of a feat, given how hard I had to look at the street signs. Luna’s beautiful moon could only offer so much light in the spaces between the street lamps. Either way, an appreciative gurgle from my stomach betrayed just how much I missed lunch.
Star looked ahead, and I followed her gaze to one building a few blocks out. Huh. We were in that awkward limbo of travel where any major discussions would be wasted because of how close we were, but far enough out that just being quiet would be awkward. Stupid social customs.
Lucky for me, my guide was more than willing to pick up the slack. “So... Cloud tells me you’ve got a coltfriend. What's he like?”
Dammit, she just had to bring Ratchet up. We’d almost had something going, before his parents up and decided to try their luck out on the Appleoosan frontier. Stupid adults and their stupid plans out in some stupid desert.
“He’s—” We’d gone out a few times after Hearts and Hooves Day, and Mom and his uncle Tool Time’d worked together at the post office for years. “Former,” I finally managed. Why’d Mister Tool Time have to be the only pony that stayed in Ponyville? It wasn’t fair. “We left on good terms, but still former.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.” If I didn’t know how good her poker face was, I’d take offence at how un-sorry she sounded. “But, hey—plenty of birds in the sky, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Didn’t make it hurt any less. “I'll manage.”
“Good attitude. I know I was bummed after I lost my fillyfriend, but I bounced back.”
Oof. I wasn’t sure I wanted to touch that, with a word as loaded as ‘lost.’ Given what’d just happened to her aunt, I didn’t really wanna pry, but... “Oh yeah? She move too, or something?”
“Nah.” Oh thank Luna; the casual tone of voice seemed to hint that the pony in question was okay—just separated. I was about to offer my condolences when Star opened her mouth to finish speaking. “She found one of my trackers on her and kinda freaked. I kinda thought she knew and was okay with it, but...” She sighed and gave a small shrug. “Guess I was wrong about that.”
Noooo, I couldn’t imagine how that could be at all considered grounds for a breakup, much less fleeing into the night and going the rest of one’s life wearing tinfoil helmets. Come to think of it, I might have to reconsider letting her tweak the trackers she wanted to put on me, unless I wanted to shave myself every time I felt a headache coming on.
“Yeah... That’s kind of a thing ponies new to it would probably wanna know about first.” Who says I can’t be subtle? Of course, that didn’t keep the grin off my face as a thought came to mind. “Except when your sister goes to the brothel. I still can't believe you did that.”
“Neither can I. Good thing I've grown up some since then.” Finally—mercifully—we came up to her house in the Kicker compound. She went up to the door, but stopped short just before opening it. “Glad I ran into you. You seem pretty cool.”
“Yeah, you too.” Once you got past the trackers and the whole Cult of Shadow angle, she was all right. “Thanks for seeing me here.”
“No prob. Couldn't leave you out on your own.” The magnifying glass bounced its way past me as Star led the way inside. The walls were carefully spaced with picture frames, not too differently from back home in Ponyville. Each one marked a different point in the lives of the ponies on the wall, of her family throughout the years.
Star paused and briefly ran her hoof over one picture in particular. Given how much time Cloud had spent in Ponyville, it was probably a few years old for her whole family to have been together for it. Star and her family were there too, the whole thing was one wide-shot family portrait. Most of the ponies in it gave an appropriate smile for the camera, although Star’s dad had that eternally-stoic look on his face, kind of like a pony who was simultaneously shaking off the sensations of constipation and having just swallowed a lemon. One pony in particular, though, caught my eye: in all the times I’d caught a glimpse of her around town, I’d never once seen her smile—and yet here, she cradled Alula with this look of quiet, maternal pride that you saw in only the best moms.
It was a picture which showed more of her than just the quiet shell I’d seen in the casket, or even the legendary major Uncle Cirrus had spoken about the few times I’d asked him about his work. Here was a mare who had her own way of showing that she cared, but cared nonetheless. Here was somepony I’d never gotten the chance to meet, never would get the chance, and I could tell just from this one picture that I’d missed out on so much.
Star’s hoof lingered on that picture. That’s all, really. Her mask was a little too good to let anything show through on her face, but honestly, it was one of those gestures that spoke volumes just because it happened. I put a hoof on her shoulder, not really sure what else I could do.
She took a deep breath and patted my hoof, then led the way further into the compound without a word. There wasn’t much by way of decoration. The few bits of furniture that were there needed to be there. In keeping with Kicker (and likely Cult) traditions of austerity, there was the occasional Shadow Kicker statue and a few Kicker coats-of-arms here and there, tastefully sparse—although I dunno how anything that has to do with Celestia or her favorite war-whorse could be considered ‘tasteful.’
Okay, better head that thought off before it goes too far. Even if Missus Nimbus deserved better than to be lost and forgotten in the marble garden surrounding Shadow’s tomb, Star at least’d gone out of her way for me.
Still. Even discounting that, her home was a pretty stark contrast to what I’d left just a little while ago. Doo Manor didn’t feel overcrowded like some dragon’s hoard, but anywhere you went you were sure to find some kind of cool heirlooms from way back when, or else some trinket or memorabilia from one of Grampa’s trips outside of Equestria—and not the tourist-y crap you could pick up from a street vendor, but honest-to-Luna treasures.
Some ponies’d call it showy, like some prissy unicorn noble showing off their wealth, but I could point out anything in that entire manor and Gramma or Grampa’d have a story to tell about it.
“Mom!” Star’s voice brought be back to the present—again—as we made our way into the kitchen. “Dad, I’m home! And I brought company!”
I recognized Star’s sister and parents from the pictures and the funeral, but I was a little surprised to see Lyra here too. I knew she had family in Canterlot as well. I guess she’d wanted to stay with the Kickers too, after everything. Still, I didn’t get why she was here instead of with—
“S-Sparkler?”
Oh. That's where Cloud was. I guess that explained a few things.
“Hey.” It took me a few minutes before I realized how hard I was staring at the full shiner I knew was gonna be there. “I, uh, I needed to get out for a bit, and I don’t really know anypony in Canterlot other than Miss Doo—other than Mom’s family and you guys. So...”
‘Miss Doo’? Luna, it’d been more than two years since the last time I’d even thought about Mom like that. I—she—she was Mom, not—
I don’t—
I—
… I hadn’t called her ‘Mom’ at all, not since I’d hidden Dinky away and left her with Uncle Cirrus. But, that wasn’t right. She was Mom. Always will be Mom. She’s Mom.
She’s Mom, she’s Mom, she is Mom, she is Mom, she’s...
“Look, Sparkler,” Cloud started, stopping that thought before it could spiral out of control. “Maybe it would be better if you stayed with—”
I cut her off with an upraised hoof. “Yeah, probably, but I think I’ll stick with you anyway.” Star’s trackers were an unpleasant surprise, yeah, but after seeing how clear that hoofmark was on Cloud’s face, I think I’d prefer the obsessive-compulsive spymare. Besides... “I figure we kinda got some stuff to talk about. Y’know, with Mom and everything.”
“No kidding. How’s—”
“Can it wait until morning?” My head was going about a thousand miles an hour. Mom, Cloud, the hit, Dinks... “I’m really not in the mood to talk about it just yet. Gotta sort out where I stand before I can even start thinking about how I wanna talk to you about this whole thing.” Luna, I hoped Star’s parents had some cider I could raid later tonight.
“Fair enough.” Cloud looked to the pegasus mare across from her. “Aunt Wind, you think you can put up Sparkler for the night?”
“Not a problem at all.” Miss Wind gave me a brief, welcome smile. “Assuming Star or Storm don’t mind sharing a bedroom, or she’s okay sleeping on the couch.” I shrugged by way of reply. So long as I could stay here for a while instead of heading back, I could sleep wherever.
“She can bunk with me,” Star offered.
“Sure.” Cloud nodded. “You two bunking together sounds fine.”
Well, all right then. I guess that settled tha—
“Just be sure to toss up a silencing spell once you start banging. Some of us would like to get a decent night’s sleep.”
…
WHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAATT!?!?!?
I—
Star and I—it’s not like—
Luna damn it, Cloud Kicker!
“Yeah, I’m sure Cloud knows all sorts of good positions you two could try out,” Storm added. No, no—bad Storm! Suppress that big sibling teasing instinct, it’s not funny when I get caught in the crossfire!
Lyra had a grin that spelled certain doom. “I know a ton of good spells you two could use to really spice things up, if you want.”
“Now, now, let’s all be nice.” Star and I both shot a grateful look to her mom. I was liking her more and more already. “Star’s an adult, and we should all respect her choice in romantic partners.”
“Moooooom!” Star whined.
I guess we’d walked right into that one. My last bastion of hope looked me over, chewing his meal contemplatively. Surely the emotionless cult leader found such petty things beneath him?
“She’ll do.” Huh. Guess not. “I just hope she’s not a screamer.”
“Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaad!”
It was official: all the ponies in this clan were crazy!
After a dinner that was equal parts tasty, filling, and utterly mortifying, I was past ready for bed. I’d taken a quick shower and dried off (with pretty much everypony present telling me and Star to help each other out), but I could feel the energy fading from my legs even as I trotted to to bed. Fortunately, Star’s room wasn’t too hard for me to find. Somepony, or probably several someponies, had covered the path all the way from the bathroom to Star’s bedroom door with fresh rose petals. Where the hay had they even gotten them at this time of night!?
Whatever. All I knew was that I wanted to sleep. I knocked, somewhat surprised that I didn’t find a sappy love note forged in Star’s hoofwriting taped to the door, or something. Either my shower had been short enough that they hadn’t had the time, or else they’d decided to have a little mercy on us. Probably the first one.
“Come in,” Star’s voice was a little muffled through the door. I pushed it open and found a cozy, well-kept little room: to my left was a small armor stand, which had her silver cadet uniform lovingly mounted onto it. A small pouch for throwing spikes was secured and locked, slung under the helmet like some weird kind of necklace.
Star was hunched over a desk tucked into the corner beside the stand, her face screwed up in concentration. A jeweler’s eyepiece rested on her muzzle as she held about half a dozen small tools aloft, her horn glowing as she etched a few more … somethings into an amethyst so small I could only just tell it was there.
“Hey,” I said. “Didn’t mean to bug you.”
“It’s no big deal.” Star made one last small movement with her engraving tools, then set them all onto a small plate. She put her eyepiece away and stood up, popping her neck. “I was about done for the night anyway.”
As she made her way to her bed on the other side of the room, I couldn’t help but ask. “Working on a new tracker?” When she nodded without offering any more explanation, I pressed my point. “For me?”
Star paused, then nodded again as she pulled back the covers. “Since you mentioned you’re getting that feedback with your magic, I wanted to see how much I could tighten up the rune matrix. S’kind of a fun little challenge, really.”
“Uh-huh.” And was she planning on telling me when she’d resumed her little surveillance mission?
Her ears flattened against her head, almost as if I’d said that out loud. I really, really hoped I hadn’t. I sighed. “Sorry... my faith in ponykind’s never been all that great, and right now it’s hit a bit of a low. Didn’t mean anything by it.”
“It’s cool.” The slightly hurt tone of her voice told me that it wasn’t. Way to go, me. I went to the side of her bed and gave her a quick, apologetic nuzzle.
“Sooooo,” I said, awkwardly drawing the word out. “You have a spare pillow and blanket, or something? I don’t wanna kick you out of your bed.”
She waved a hoof. “Nah, it’s big enough for two.”
Suddenly, I was very, very happy that Star had her own room. Storm alone would never let me hear the end of it, and there’s no way in Tartarus that she wouldn’t give Cloud and Lyra teasing material. “O ... kay. If you’re sure.”
Star shot me a sassy grin. “I don’t bite, Sparkler.”
Well, buck it. The floor didn’t look all that comfortable, and after tonight I figured that I could trust Star enough to take her at her word. I sidled into bed with her, only a little awkwardly as we shuffled around before settling into place. Her horn glowed and killed the lantern on her desk, and then the only light in the room was from the occasional beam reflected by Luna’s moon.
Gods, but it felt nice, to have a bed again. Weirdly comforting to have another pony in it, too. Star was a little big to hold like I could with Dinky—even discounting whatever else everypony would say about it—but honestly, after everything that’d gone down over the last week, I was really, really happy to just have somepony with me. Just to be able to feel something. A hoof on my shoulder, a nuzzle on my head, even a gentle warmth against my back, if it meant that this really was something more than just a bad dream.
I wasn’t quite sure when Star draped a foreleg over my shoulder, or how that came to pass, but I put my hoof on hers. I … if I’m honest with myself, I needed the contact. She scooted in a little closer, and you know what? Buck it. It was comforting.
I lost track of time, laying there. Star eventually drifted off, and I felt my own eyelids start to get heavy. I was even ready to fall asleep myself when I saw it. The statue.
The creepy-flanked little statue.
Shadow Kicker was staring at me. It was bad enough ponies thought about the dead bitch as a hero, much less gave her her own religion, but having a statue? It was cree—
GYAH!
It moved! I swear the little thing moved, right when I blinked!
“Mm...” Star shifted beside me. I guess she wasn’t as asleep as I thought she was. “Y’okay?”
“Fine.”
Star wasn’t buying it, though. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” No, really, it was nothing.
“You're getting all tense and twitchy. Kinda makes it hard to sleep.”
My tail gave a small twitch as she said that. “Sorry. Trying not to.” Silly as it sounds, I pulled her foreleg over me to try and put whatever I could between myself and that creepy little statue.
“It's fine.” Star gave me a small, reassuring squeeze, then reached out to tap the statue and murmured something before going back to sleep. I think it was some kind of prayer for guidance.
Not that the statue needed a lot of guidance, either way. It was still there. I swear, it shifted again. I wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
Oh, Luna … it was watching meeeeeeee...
