Cape and Cowl II: Puppetmaster

Chapters

Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Prologue
Chapter One

Chapter Two

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Chapter Three

January 7th, 1008, 11:00 P.M.

I’ve had a couple of days to stew on everything. I don’t know what to believe, what to think, anymore. Up is down, left is right, and my entire view of the world has been shaken.

How could she? How could the one pony I thought I could trust above all others throw me under the carriage so casually? And for the sake of Bolt Buck, no less!

I want to hate him. I was hoping that it was all his fault, that he somehow forced Primrose into telling them who I am just to save his own skin, so I could blame him completely.

But I can’t.

He knew what he was a part of so long ago was a horrific mistake, and he has worked hard to amend it. I have to give him credit for that, he’s done a lot for me, never hesitating for a second to consider the risks. And to learn that even he was angry with Primrose when she turned me over ‘for his sake’. The sad truth is, I believe him. He was genuinely upset, and has once again offered to help me.

And to top it all off, I actually meet a nice Rind. Has the whole world gone mad?

I don’t understand. The killer of my brother has become my unwaveringly loyal ally, the mare I knew as a filly turns out to be a turncoat, and our family rival actually cares about this situation? Is this some sort of nightmare? Please, Luna, make it stop. If this is some fever-induced dream, just let it end so I can have my parents back. Let the whole thing end - maybe I’ll even have Frosty back.

Is that too much to ask? Why do I have to suffer so much? Is it some sort of cosmic test of character? Or is that yet to come, when Abacus will ask me to do… whatever it is she’ll want me to do. I don’t want to imagine what it may be.

If she makes me cross a line I don’t want to cross, just to save mom and dad… could they even look at me? Could I look at them? I don’t think I want to know the answer to that question - my stomach is churning just thinking about it.

I’m scared of this mare. She wasn’t a stupid brute like Bloodshot; she’ll have thought two steps ahead of me. If I see an opening in her guard, I’ll have to take it. But I doubt she’d allow me such an opening. Or, if she does, it may be a trap in itself.

I can’t just outsmart her… If I try to outmuscle her, she’ll just hurt mom and dad. So I’ll have to go with the last thing I’ve got left.

My gut.

The meet is still an hour away. I think I need some cold, crisp fresh air.

-Snow Storm

Snow Storm spat out the pencil and simply stared down at the open journal for a moment. Her mind raced with all of the upcoming potential scenarios involving that coldhearted pegasus, each one worse than the last.

She heaved herself away from the old desk, rather forcibly, nearly tipping herself and her chair over. She caught the edge of the desk before the chair could teeter too far back, righted herself, and scowled as she stood up. She replaced her journal into its hidden drawer and swiped a hoof over the ever-melting candle, whisking away the dancing flame.

The room filled with silvery moonlight reflected off of a fresh layer of snow. Snow Storm walked lethargically to the door which opened out onto the wrap-around balcony and opened it. A blast of cold air immediately stung her swollen face, waking her from the stupor she’d been in the past few days. She stepped outside, grimacing against the chilly air, and leaned against the railing which faced out into the vast grove of trees below.

The day seemed so far away now, turning into one quick glob of back-to-back memories. There had been a purse snatcher, she had almost decided not to bother, she met a new Guard, she helped with the street wreck, she tussled with the Rinds, she met their patriarch, she came home and slept until moments ago. All of these events ran rapidly together in her mind, like a slideshow.

She had woken up long after the sun had gone, which only served to disorient her more. She wondered if the day had only been a dream, but her throbbing face proved it had been all too real. She gingerly pressed a hoof up against her cheek, hissing and flinching at the tender flesh. She didn’t have to bother checking the knot in her shoulder - it still felt as though there were a hot pin underneath her skin there. To top it all off, a headache began to form itself, thumping against her skull.

I must look real pretty right now...

Though it was night, the snow on the ground made it bright enough for her to spot a group of Fulake off in a section of land reserved for their special night-fruits. She watched absentmindedly as they picked and crated their extra-sweet harvest, setting aside one rather large container that was undoubtedly meant for the Night-guard barracks. It was something Mr. Orange had arranged, as a gesture of goodwill. The Guard, of course, happily accepted it.

Wish I could be delivering that… she thought, sighing internally and resting her head against her forelegs. She closed her eyes, shivering against the cold breeze blowing in the night. I’d give just about anything to have a boring life.

You started this, now buck up and finish it!

“Ma’am?”

Snow Storm jumped, dropping back to all four legs and putting herself in a defensive posture before she registered who the voice belonged to. “Oh. Good evening, Deorsa.” She gave the Fulake a half-hearted smile and nod.

“And to you.” He tilted his head, folding his fluffy ears slightly and patting her on the shoulder, offering her a sympathetic look. “I apologize for startling you. I saw you step outside and thought you could use some company.”

Snow smiled, turning back to the grove. Deorsa was essentially the night-shift foreman; a very stoic and matter-of-fact Fulake, and she liked him for that. “It’d be nice.”

“...I’m sorry about the Oranges,” he said as they watched the groves, “we did our best to stop them, but in the end there were too many. It’s a miracle nopony was killed… They took great pains not to harm your family.”

Snow looked sideways at the Fulake, raising an eyebrow. “You tried to stop them?”

“Oh, yes. I was going into the nearby shed when I saw commotion up here at the manor. Naturally, I blew my horn and rallied the others, but it was futile.”

“Huh, I’ve always wondered why you wear these things.” She brushed the horn around his neck, sending it swinging in a slow arc like a pendulum.

He offered up a small smile. “You could just ask. It’s for emergencies - fire, mostly.”

“That explains why I’ve never heard one. I don’t ever remember a fire in the grove before.”

“That’s because the last one was twenty-three years ago. It involved a drunken pegasus and a stormcloud.”

Snow snorted. “You sound like you were there. You can’t possibly be much older than I am!”

Deorsa’s grin became wider. As was usual with Fulake, the grin was a bit impish. “Maybe I was, and maybe I am.”

They watched the workers together in silence. Snow was just about to break it when Deorsa turned to her, his mouth set in a hard frown. “Listen, if there’s anything we can do, just ask. We’re not leaving the groves, not unless you want us to. A lot of us grew up working for your parents, and we owe them much.”

“Well…” Snow Storm clucked her tongue thoughtfully. “There is something I need, if you don’t mind.”

“Anything, just say the word,”

She swept a hoof over the railing. “I need somepony to oversee the grove until mom and dad get back. I’m going to be… busy.”

“Of course,” he said, nodding immediately. “But, er…”

He leaned over and whispered into her ear, “You may wish to be careful with that whole ‘night thing’ you have going on. I can’t promise you aren’t being watched, and that ‘friend’ of yours isn’t exactly helping matters… what happened to her, anyway?”

Snow Storm shot Deorsa an ugly look. “Does everybody know who I am?”

“Not everybody. I happened to stay out late picking fruit, and spotted you coming and going from the house. After the first few times, it became fairly obvious what was going on… I asked Mrs.Orange, and she made me swear not to tell a soul. Nobody else on the grove knows, to my knowledge.”

“Keeping a secret identity is harder than I thought,” she grumbled, turning from the grove and facing the house. “It’s time I get going. I’ll be back… hopefully before sunrise.”

“Of course,” he said. Out of nowhere, he threw his forelegs around her in a comforting hug. “You take care out there, ma’am. You’re the last of the Oranges… until we get them back, at least.”

The last of the Oranges… she thought to herself. There was something so sad about that.

Probably because you’re not one at all, the voice of guilt retorted coldly.

Flyntt sighed, a leaden feeling in his stomach as he moved to knock on the door to Amber’s apartment. If he was just there to talk to her, it would have been a simple and quick visit, but as he raised his hoof to the door for the seventh time in the last half hour, a number of conflicting feelings welled up in him; disappointment, anger, betrayal, and bizarrely, a tiny amount of twisted pride lingered in the back of his mind for telling the Captain what Flyntt himself had secretly urged to say at that moment.

“Pelleas, open up,” he said in a voice far from the brotherly tone he had used with his cadet just months ago.

There was a click of locks coming undone, and the door creaked open enough for Amber Shield to poke her half-asleep head out. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she mumbled in a tired stupor, scowling.

“It’s time your depressed oaf of a boyfriend got his act together, that’s what,” Flyntt replied curtly, “I’m his ex-partner in the Night Guard, and I’m here to get him off his ass.”

Amber blinked a couple of times, and then her brain clicked. “Oh! Lieutenant Flyntt. Come on in.” She opened the door and stepped aside, sweeping her foreleg in a gesture of invitation.

“Thanks… and we’re not at work, Amber. ‘Flyntt’ will do fine,” he corrected her, sitting down at the kitchen table and looking around.

“You have a nice place here,” he mentioned casually, before staring right at her, cutting to the chase. “So how’s he been?”

“No clue,” Amber replied, trotting to the stove to fire up a pot of coffee. “I kicked him out last night.”

“You did?” Flyntt grinned wryly, helping himself to a slice of grapefruit from a bowl, “What was the final straw?”

“It was more like a whole bunch of pent up things coming out at once. It’s an honor to be in this city’s Guard, and he threw it away for some mare that he wouldn’t shut up about.”

“Eh, personally I’d say it’s more a source of income than an honor, but hey, I’m an old cynic,” he grinned, “but you’re right about him throwing it away. Kid never did know how to think ahead… any idea of where he went?” he asked casually, taking the last bite out of his grapefruit.

“Frankly, sir, I don’t care,” Amber said with a vicious scowl. “There are bigger things to worry about, like the missing Oranges.”

“What do you want me to say?” he said, returning the scowl and doubling it, “You think the higher-ups are holding out on you, that we got some crucial sensitive info that could change everything that we just can’t say yet? Sorry kid, that ain’t how it works. I can tell you why they were kidnapped, but frankly I don’t trust you enough yet. You’re too close to Murdoc, and I don’t think it’s something he should know.”

“I’ve heard you two have a history,” she commented as she levitated the boiling coffee pot, pouring a cup for herself and her guest.

“A history?” Flyntt scoffed, “Sure, you might say that. You might also say that he’s a bigot, that thinks most of my kind are lazy, shifty and listless bums. He’s had it in for me since the day we joined the force together, and he’ll have it in for me when he’s Captain and I’m stuck working desk duty because my worthless, whiny little brat of an ex-partner thought he was better than the system.”

“Well maybe if you got to know the Lieutenant a bit, you’d think differently,” she shot, setting the coffee down near Flyntt.

At this, Flyntt shot her a look so stern she almost flinched, “Oh, I know him. I know more about him than you’ll ever dream of. We go way, way back, and frankly I think you don’t have any idea of his darker side. He’s all honor and loyalty at work, sure, but underneath it all is a very cold, very distant stallion. Sure, he’s nice around his kids, but he hates batponies. And frankly, I don’t see why I shouldn’t return the favor.”

Amber cocked her eyebrow and leveled her ears at Flyntt. “If he hates your kind so much, why does he use a name like yours instead of his real one?”

“Quick piece of advice, kid,” Flyntt said, scratching his ear lazily as he spoke, “If you ever bring that up with him, or anything regarding his father? You can kiss goodbye to that cushy position of yours, Shield or not. He hates talking about that stuff a thousand times more than he does my kind.”

“Or maybe you just don’t know him like you think you do,” Amber said icily. She wondered if this little incident was going to go on record, but she hardly cared. “But he’s not why you’re here. You’re here for that bum, and I booted him out. He’s entirely obsessed with the Mare do Well, so find her and you can find him somewhere close by. So I’m kindly asking you to leave, sir.” She pointed harshly to the door.

“...You’re just like Pelleas, no wonder you fell for him,” Flyntt spat as he walked to the door, “An insufferable little upstart that thinks she knows better. But I guess it’s fine for you, since you’re not a Fulake anyway.”

Flyntt stormed out, slamming the door shut and heading in the direction of the one pony that might actually have some answers.

“Or maybe you’re all just arrogant jackasses!” she yelled after him, finishing her cup and shuffling off back to bed.

The fountain Snow Storm had been told to wait by was an impressive stone monument of Princess Luna. She stood proudly, holding her head high with her large wings spread to their fullest. Flanking her were a pair of Fulake in ornate, Royal Night Guard armor. The fountain had been chiseled in such exquisite detail that, in the daytime, one could even see the royal crest of Luna upon her guards’ armor. It was erected a couple of years after the Princess’s triumphant return to Equestria, as a testament to her reformation.

Snow Storm shivered against the cold night, despite the few layers of clothes and fluffy winter coat she was wearing. Wish Abacus would hurry this up... she thought miserably, trying to burrow into her coat and fend off the chill. Her stomach knotted up as she anxiously awaited to see what the night had in store

“Have you heard?” A couple nearby were casually talking about the latest news. “The Orange family have gone missing! I think the Rinds had something to do with it…”

“Wouldn't surprise me,” the other said dismissively as he took a bite out of an apple. “Were you there when they had that citrus fight? It got intense. I hear the Orange daughter started it. Still, a real shame. Best orange juice in town…”

“I hate gossip, don’t you?” said a cheery voice into Snow’s left ear. She knew the voice at once as the pegasus she saw in her own home a few days earlier. “Spreads like wildfire! Although I wonder how fast a wildfire would spread in Manehattan… I would just love to test it out. Alas…” Abacus’ words trailed off, though her eyes wore a dreamy expression.

“What do you want me to do?” Snow Storm asked, her voice as cold as the midnight air. She wanted to speak with this vile mare as little as possible, though she feared such a thing was too much to hope for.

“What, straight to business?” Abacus gave a highly exaggerated sigh. “You’re no fun at all! Fine. The Red Hoof has a bit of a problem with a group over in the east side of the city. He wants them gone, and you’re the mare to do it! The problem is they control a small processing facility, and he doesn’t. And he wants that facility. Capiche?”

...Gone? Could she mean ‘killed’? No. Better not to ask. If I leave them alive at least I can feign ignorance later.

“He wants it done tonight,” Abacus added. “So I’d say you better get crackin’, huh? Crackin’ skulls, that is. Ta-ta for now, Snow Storm!” Abacus took off into the night sky, but stopped only a few feet into the air. "OH! I almost forgot. They process... oh, what is it... 'Basilisk Venom'. So be careful not to break anything that looks expensive. And if you touch it, it'll turn you to stone or kill you. I forgot which. Either way, don’t touch it. Here’s a map, by the way.” Abacus rummaged into her saddlebag, grabbed a thick, folded piece of paper, and threw it at Snow Storm’s face. “I suppose it helps if you know where to go. Well then, ta-ta!"

Snow Storm sighed, cursing silently as Abacus flew away, a leaden feeling forming in the pit of her stomach.

* * *

“D’you think it’s true?”

Snow Storm hid behind a short wall just outside her target, frowning beneath her mask. She was ground-level, listening to a pair of the facility’s hired muscle talk as they sat by a side-door of the building. She would have taken the place by surprise from above, were it not for the half-dozen or so pegasi flying around. Whoever this criminal is, she thought sardonically to herself, he doesn’t play around.

“Do I reckon what’s true?” the shorter of the goons responded, yawning and barely paying his friend any notice.

“What that crazy dame said about the Mare do Well showing up tonight,” the other murmured in a hush voice.

Snow Storm’s heart leapt into her throat - Abacus had told them?! It’s a trap, she told herself, grinding her teeth. No, not a trap, a test. Well, I can play along…

“Whaddya think?” the taller goon asked again, shooting glances around to make sure there was indeed nopony in the vicinity. “She messing with us?”

“Who cares?” the stallion replied, “Word is, this shipment’s part of something bigger. Could be bigger than the Mayor, the City, even the Boss himself! So even if she shows, it don’t matter none. I mean, the Boss ain’t gonna just leave something this important unguarded… she tries anything, and she just might find herself outmatched for a change.”

“But it’s ridiculous. He’s dealing with the Mare do Well over in Liveryburg! How can she possibly be here, too?”

“No idea. Could be a double. My brother reckons there’s a whole bunch, even thinks a few have died out there. Always seemed a bit strange, one mare fighting night after night like that, going up against the worst of this city without a scratch…” He turned to his companion. “Right, we’ve chatted long enough. Better see how Silver’s coming along, said he’d be- did you hear something?”

Snow Storm froze for a moment. Could they have heard me? But I wasn’t even moving… she thought, sinking her head behind the wall she was peeking out from.

“Look, it’s just a cat.” The other sentry pointed out the feline which had just come out from behind a set of trashcans, carrying a fresh kill in its mouth. He chuckled at his twitchy friend. “You’re seriously on edge tonight. Need a drink? I snuck a flask in my bag. Or, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go see if there are anymore cats to spook you.”

“You won’t be laughing when she gets the drop on you,” the shaken goon said. Just as it seemed like the less-rattled of the two was about to move toward Snow Storm’s hiding location anyway, the door they were guarding swung gently open. There were quick, hushed murmurs followed by the two door guards locking eyes and grinning. “Looks like we caught something after all, huh?”

Snow Storm risked a peek over her hiding wall. A third guard was poking his head out of the doorway, scowling at the two. “Found a bat sneaking around the back. You two know what to do… I’ll take watch here, you drag him to the chains, boys.”

They nodded eagerly, walking quickly inside and leaving the third stallion alone. Snow Storm held her breath. Let’s hope he’s dumb… she thought, kicking a tin can, bouncing it into the narrow alleyway where her one opportunity for entrance was. Come on buddy, check it out...

As luck would have it, the goon absentmindedly turned towards the source of the noise and headed over, staring at the can for a few vital seconds. “...Huh, wonder what moved it?”

Snow Storm snuck quietly up to him, slamming the crook of her foreleg into the back of the stallion’s head, knocking him out cold. She caught him before he completely crumpled to the concrete ground, and hid him behind the trashcans which the cat had run out of.

The door he had left unguarded loomed before her as she turned to face it, and she felt a shiver down her spine. She had spent years training to fight, but subterfuge was a new and daunting challenge for the mare. She slowly slipped inside, hugging the far wall and listening closely for hoofsteps.

Now comes the hard part.

“Would you give it a rest already?” Aella sighed as she followed Flyntt on their designated patrol route, the latter taking powerful, almost aggressive strides. She could only imagine the hell that was going to break loose when Amber told her superior about the surprise visit. Flyntt and Murdoc might even finally come to blows. Luna knows it’s about time. “He obviously doesn’t want to be a Guard anymore. Or is this something to do with your own personal pride?”

“It’s… you haven’t had a partner in years, you just wouldn’t understand,” Flyntt muttered angrily as they headed down the street.

“At least yours is still alive,” she retorted coldly.

“...Even after these years,you still haven’t let go, have you? And you think I’m holding onto the past?” he replied, not daring to smile. This was one of the few topics Flyntt knew all too well to tread carefully around with her.

“Looking a pair of parents in the eyes and telling them their kid was killed in the line of duty is a little different from some spoiled brat throwing a hissy-fit because he didn’t get his way.”

Flyntt sighed, looking to the cobblestone floor as they walked. He had secretly hoped that Aella managing to kill Bloodshot several months ago would have healed her in some small way, but if anything it had only brought those painful old memories back up to the surface.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” he conceded. “I guess I just miss him, that’s all.”

“Huh, I didn’t know you swung that way,” Aella said with a half-cocked grin, her tone lightening considerably. “It answers a lot of questions, though.”

“Like why I haven’t proposed yet?” he grinned back. He secretly hoped the question would shock her on some level, or at least that she’d have more to say in response than another quip.

Aella scrunched her face for a moment, wondering if Flyntt was being serious. “I figured it was just because I’m too much bat for you,” she finally said after a short silence.

“You’re too much bat for anyone," he replied. As happily as he joked about this with her, he knew Murdoc had once had feelings for her two. Had she chosen him all those years ago, it was likely that Flyntt would have left Equestria itself long ago.

“You may be right about that.” She looked at him as they turned a corner, heading down yet another sparsely-populated street. “But is the kid really worth stressing over? Especially after he made an ass of himself in front of everyone?”

“I’m just worried, y’know? Though I need to apologize. I know you’ve been hurting these past few months and all I’ve been talking about is that stubborn moron…”

“What we need to worry about is getting the Oranges back. Pelleas can wait.”

“Speaking of which…” Flyntt moved a little closer to her, “Any word from the kid? I figured she would be out all hours trying to find a lead, but after the whole Bloodshot incident it’s almost like she doesn’t trust us anymore…”

“Not a word since I helped her with a little something a month ago. She must’ve gotten a similar letter to Leaf’s - or worse. Oh don’t look so surprised. He showed it to me, too.”

“You’d have thought she’d be a little more trusting after everything we did to help her…” Flyntt mused. “Has Murdoc spoken with you about the case? I know he’s been giving it his all, and with that newbie eager to help I figured he’d have learned something.”

“Not a damned thing.”

“It’s a horrible feeling, Aella. The citizens only get any sleep because they think we’re protecting them from thugs like that bastard. If they knew we were just as powerless?” Flyntt shuddered just imagining the panic that would cause.

“Thankfully, as far as they know, the Rinds were involved. Family dispute that’s finally boiled over.”

“I’m honestly worried I’m being followed at night,” Flyntt says in a much quieter tone. “Can’t be too careful these days. Feels like the Red Hoof’s got eyes and ears everywhere now, even more so than before the kid showed up. Really is starting to feel like she’s changed everything… and between you and me? Not entirely for the better, either.”

“The fact is, it’s going to come down to either the Red Hoof or the Mare do Well. They both can’t exist in the city.” Aella gave a brief, roguish grin. “Personally? My bits are on her.”

“Right now, it feels almost like we’re playing the waiting game here. Can’t talk to her, can’t go after him either… and trying to get Pell to return is like trying to pull teeth… Can you give me your opinion here for a moment? I want to know if getting him to rejoin the guard is even worth my time.”

Aella shrugged. “It probably isn’t. He’s too absorbed in himself.”

Flyntt stopped outside the barracks, and smiled at her, “I need to go replace the shine on this thing, I’ll see you in about ten minutes,” he said, gesturing to his armor.

Just as Flyntt headed inside, a lanky young cadet crashed into him, seeming distracted, “Help, help! There’s something big going down in Downtown!”

“Easy, Cadet,” Aella said, putting on her authoritative tone. “Slow down and speak clearly. What’s this about downtown?”

“It’s the Mare do Well, ma’am. We’ve had a sighting, and she’s causing all kinds of havoc in the Downtown area!”

“Right!” Aella said, snapping into action. “Let the others know about this. I’m on my way now!” She took off, following the direction where the Cadet pointed.

An unmentioned upgrade to Snow Storm’s costume had been the lenses of the ‘eyes’. Yet another work of magic, they would give the Mare do Well enhanced sight in almost any lighting condition barring complete blackness. At night, for example, they would brighten her view.

But now, they were working in the opposite fashion. The building Snow Storm had snuck into was flooded with a bright, sterile fluorescent lighting. The lenses in her mask seemed to work the same as the rest of the magic in her suit, granting her the most comfortable, dimmed view against the blinding lights.

She peeked over the crate she was hiding behind, making a mental note of the building’s interior. It seemed to be some sort of combination science laboratory and refinery. There were a group of unicorns surrounding a rectangular metal table, looking like scientists in their long, white overcoats and protective goggles. She saw them working with flasks and vials of some sickly-looking, pale-yellow liquid. They seemed to handle each flask with utmost delicacy, taking care not to spill even a droplet of what Snow Storm figured was the Basilisk Venom.

“And if you touch it, it'll turn you to stone or kill you. I forgot which.” Abacus’ words rang in Snow Storm’s ears as she stared at those deadly vials, not particularly liking either possible outcome.

Now, how can I go about this…? Startling the unicorns seemed to be a very bad idea, indeed. She looked around more, spotting only a couple guards. Too few, her calculating mind told her. There must be more. Perhaps she could get the jump on those two early…

You’re going to have to reveal yourself. It was the ever-persistent voice of her brother, whom seemed to have take up a permanent residence in her head. Wait until those workers have set everything down, then pop out.

Are you nuts!?

Don’t tell me you can’t take whatever they can throw at you.

Yeah, but-

Wait. Something’s happening.

She heard voices and laughter coming from the other side of the workers, and then a Fulake was harshly shoved forward. He lost his footing and fell. A pair of bulky Earth Ponies kicked and swiped at him before hoisting him up and pinning him against the wall. One of them waved a hoof at a ‘scientist’ and barked orders. The scientist nodded, filling a dropper with the venom. He held the dropper in a magical grasp and casually sauntered over to the ponies and their capture, as if he’d done it before.

Maybe he has, Snow Storm thought, suppressing a shudder. She strained her ears, listening to the criminals and waiting for the right opportunity to make her move. The other pair of guards began to patrol the inside of the building. Snow Storm noted that one of them would reach her in only a couple of minutes. When he’s near me, I strike.

“Well well well,” she heard one of the larger goons say. “What’s a sneaky little bat doing this far from the belfry? Come to spy on us?!”

“El Toro don’t like spies,” the other Earth Pony said, shoving the Fulake’s head against the wall and tilting it upwards. He seemed to be the proper enforcer of the two.

El Toro…? Snow Storm thought, frowning. It was a name she’d never heard of before. Her job here became a little clearer, however: This ‘El Toro’ was obviously a competition of the Red Hoof. Competition might cause him to make a mistake.

You do know what that means, don’t you? She was slowly coming to think of that voice as her intuition, the subconscious voice of reason she could rely on.

What?

Depending on how big ‘El Toro’ is, it’ll mean an all-out gang war.

“Yeah, he don’t!” the smaller of the two Earth Ponies said, bringing Snow Storm back to reality. “Or maybe… maybe you wanna join us, huh? That it, fruitcake? You think you’re tough enough run with the big boys? We ain’t like the namby-pamby Red Hoof. We’re the real deal! So talk! What’re you doin’ here?!” The dropper inched closer to the Fulake’s eyes. He shut them tightly, grimacing and squirming against his captors.

“I’m here because somepony has to try and bring thugs like you down!” he snarled, still fighting against the goons. “I don’t know who this ‘El Toro’ is and, frankly, I don’t care! As long as the Mare do Well stands between you and this city, I’ll be right behind her!”

“Oh-ho! Little fruitcake here knows about the Mare do Well, eh?” The goon slammed his captive’s head hard against the wall. “How’s about you tell us all about her? We might even let you go if you do!”

Snow Storm squinted hard, and after a few seconds it became obvious that it was none other than Pelleas. A few months ago, he was her eyes and ears in the guard, the one pony there she could trust… but a lot had happened since then, and now he was merely a burden that just so happened to know her secret… a burden that she now had to rescue, to make matters more complicated.

“You hurt her best informant, and she’ll come after you…” Pelleas spat, his vision blurring as he stared at his captors. “I don’t have to say a thing.”

“‘Informant’, huh? You know what that word rhymes with?” The stallion slammed his hoof down, catching a scurrying rat by the tail. “It rhymes with rat, fruitcake. And El Toro don’t like rats. You know what we do to ‘em?”

“Scream and run away like little fillies?” Pelleas grinned. Either he was delusional from the beating they’d given him, or absolutely convinced Snow Storm would save him from their wrath. Either way, his cockiness made the mare feel a slight annoyance- he had stupidly allowed himself to get caught, and now he was her responsibility to save.

“Wrong answer, bat-brain!” The goon held the rat up as the dropper floated toward it, putting the smallest amount of venom on the creature. It squeaked, squirming in the stallion’s hoof. He dropped the rat as it turned to stone; it shattered on the floor into pieces. “And that was just the outside. Think of what the venom would do if we put it inside ya!”

Pelleas squirmed in fear, “Y-you wouldn’t!” His bravado disappeared as soon as he saw the results of the venom.

“Not so tough now, are ya fruitcake? Now, what do ya know about the Mare do Well? Our boss has a little interest in her, see? Tell us what we wanna know and maybe you won’t become a pretty little lawn ornament.”

“S-she’s a… she’s a member of the Guard…” he whimpered, “Took the law into her own hooves after she realized our limits…”

The beefy stallion grinned tightly. “Now, see? That wasn’t so hard.” He turned to leave, nodding at the unicorn. “Turn him into a statue.”

Pelleas whimpered, backing away as the unicorn approached.

Snow Storm sighed silently. Pelleas was going to have a lot to answer for once she was done bringing down these guys. Within an instant she rushed out of the darkness, sending the smaller of the Earth Ponies crashing to the floor. The unicorn holding the Venom jumped and backed away.

The larger one came from the side, swinging a large hoof at her face. She blocked it, sending her own straight into his gut like a missile. “You know, I’m having a bad week and I really hate bullies,” she said, slamming her head against his and sending him reeling backwards.

The stallion fell backwards with a grunt, “You can’t stop our Boss, he makes the Red Hoof look like a scared little filly, and when he finds out you’ve messed with his shipment, he’s gonna-”

“Shut up,” she said coldly, knocking him out. A hard hoof fell on the back of her head, staggering her. Instinctively she bucked out, feeling another goon’s jaw break from her blow. They were beginning to circle around her, backing her up against the wall.

“Watch out!” Pelleas scrambled to his feet and joined the fray, running himself into another of the goons like a bull.

Sis, get out of there! the voice of her brother pleaded. The rest of the building’s guards circled around her and began to close in. What was supposed to be a fairly straightforward (if undesirable) mission was quickly turning into a nightmare.

No! She hunched forward, her eyes moving rapidly from one goon to another, waiting for her one and only chance to strike.

You’re going to fail. Mom and dad are going to die. It’ll be all your fault.

SHUT! UP! The circling ponies advanced, but she was ready. A pair of stallions lunged from her flank; she bucked out, striking one in the face and clipping the other. The pegasus at her head seized the opportunity to strike; she skirted around and pummeled quickly into his side, crippling and disfiguring his wing.

She had two more of them down before the rest overcame their shock and attacked at once. She didn’t care. They came at her, swinging and kicking and biting. Her suit absorbed most of the beating, but she would have a fair number of bruises the next day. One hoof landed on her face, causing an explosion of pain in her already-sore head. It only served to anger her.

Dear Epona, it’s finally happened, she thought in the midst of the battle. I’ve finally snapped.

Pelleas took another pony or two off of her; her rear legs hit a bulky stallion twice her size with full force, causing him to cough up a wad of phlegm and blood. One grabbed at her cape; she turned and swung hard into his chest, sending him reeling with a cracked rib.

It took her a moment to realize the hitting had stopped. The few ponies left standing had begun to back away. She held her head low again, her favorite stance. It intimidated the idiots. She felt a noise come out of her throat, and realized it was a growl. The goons backing away looked scared, and she liked that. She liked it a lot.

All at once, the stallions that still had the energy to stand had fled the place, leaving only Pelleas, Snow Storm and several unconscious bodies in the room.

Pelleas heaved a long sigh, groaning and shaking his head, “Thanks,” he said, turning to Snow Storm with a sheepish grin.

Ignoring him, she yelled out to the fleeing ponies, “This building now belongs to the Red Hoof! Anyone who has a problem with that can take it up with me!”

Pelleas stopped smiling, turning pale. “W-what… what are you talking about? You aren’t working for the Red Hoof…”

“You stay out of this,” she grumbled, walking towards the doorway she had come in. Epona give me the strength to not deck him in the face.

After a moment, Pelleas composed himself, rushing over and blocking her path. He looked confused and hurt, and she scowled at him from beneath her mask. “So it was all a lie. This city never had a savior, it was all just a part of the Red Hoof’s plan,” he said, as if this was the final piece of the puzzle he had spent the last few month unhealthily obsessing over.

“There was no ‘Mare do Well.’ No hope… no one to stand against him. I… I threw away my job for a lie!” he spat, snarling and raising his hoof at her, as if to strike.

“If you hit me, it’ll be the last thing you ever do,” she retorted coldly, shoving him aside harshly. “Now stay out of my way. I’ve got a job to do.”

“I believed in you! I thought you were going to clean up the trash in this city, the way those fools in the guard never could! How could you do this to the city? How could you do this to me?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she grumbled, throwing open the exit. A cool blast of air hit her, and her suit immediately compensated. She could feel the tears along the sides close themselves up, though such a marvel was beyond her ability to appreciate at the moment. She just wanted to get away.

Pelleas walked up to her slowly, “I gave up so much for you… my job, my friends… I thought we had something. I thought you needed me. Was I wrong? Am I just a pawn in whatever game you and your boss are playing, Mare do Well?”

“What I don’t need is somepony fouling up my job!” She shot him a look; he could feel the irritation radiating from beneath the cold, blank mask. “I’ll be lucky if the Guard hadn’t noticed this incident. And that’s going to make someone extremely unhappy.”

Pelleas turned away in disgust. “There’s nothing more to be said. There are no heroes, and if I can’t make a difference helping you, I’ll make one helping myself instead…” It was his turn to shove her aside as he stormed out the door, leaving her all alone save for the ponies that lay beaten beneath her hooves.

One of the few left conscious was whimpering in a corner, trying to crawl to a different exit. “D-damnit, need to get outta here…” he whispered weakly.

Her ears twitched as she could hear the cacophonous clanking of armor. Guess that’s my cue, she thought bitterly, bolting out of the side-door which she had entered through earlier.

Flyntt whistled, looking over the carnage, turning to Aella as she inspected the place, “Haven’t seen this kinda handiwork in awhile… I guess this means the Mare do Well’s back in action, huh? Question is, what does she want…”

“What is all of this, anyways?” Aella asked, taking a small whiff of a beaker filled with some sickly-yellow substance. She backed away, gagging and retching. “Eugh it smells like rotten eggs beaten with a gym sock.”

“It’s either a new drug, or a chemical weapon of some kind… you might wanna back away from that stuff. I’m getting a bad feeling about whatever these boys were cooking up…”

Aella’s eyebrow cocked. “The Red Hoof? With a chemical weapon? That’s no good.”

Flyntt looked around, raising an eyebrow. “...Something’s wrong here. This whole operation isn’t his style.”

The Fulake headed over to one of the few ponies still conscious and knelt down, “Listen kid. You answer me one question and I’ll let you walk… er, limp- outta here. Are you working for the Red Hoof?”

“You and the Red Hoof can both go to hell,” the stallion growled clutching at his gut. “He and his pet Mare do Well! El Toro for life!”

Flyntt turned to Aella, “Did you hear that? He thinks she’s in cahoots with the Red Hoof... this idiot really must be new to this city. Do you think we might have a rival gang on our hands?”

“Maybe the Captain will know more.” She whistled into the building, catching the rest of the Guards’ attention. “Listen up, boys and girls! This place is officially under quarantine until we know what we got! It’ll be your job to protect this place, got it?!”

“Yes, sir!”

Flyntt smiled, “Wanna go get a drink now we’re off shift, Aella?”

“You know it.”

Abacus struck the Mare do Well across the muzzle, her wings flared as she glared hotly at the masked mare. “Insolent little bitch! I wanted you to take that facility for us, not alert half the city! I bet you did that on purpose, didn’t you?! ‘Oh I think I’ll just subtly let the Guard know what I’m doing, that’ll show Abacus!’ Do you think you can undermine me?!”

Snow Storm bit down on her lip, summoning every ounce of discipline to not run her hoof straight into Abacus’ face. Just do it, already, she thought, feeling her foreleg tremble. Stop letting her treat you like a dog!

“There were complications,” she mumbled, looking away before she lost control. Her face felt like it was ready to explode; she could feel something dripping from the corner of her mouth. The coppery taste on her tongue told her it was blood.

“Oh, what’s that?” Abacus brought a hoof up to her ear in a mock-listening gesture, sneering. “I’m sorry, I can only make out excuses for your incompetence! You had one job, and you blew it!”

“They had somepony!” Snow Storm shouted, getting into Abacus’ face. “I couldn’t just let them torture him!”

“Oh… oh my!” Abacus took a step back, her eyes wide and mouth open. She reared up, putting a hoof on her heart. “Well now that changes everything! It’s… it’s almost as if I don’t care! You do what you’re told, and that’s it!”

“Well then tell me why they were all expecting me to show up! You told them I was coming!”

Abacus snorted. “Of course I did! Do you think I’m going to make it easy for you? No, you need a real challenge. Congratulations, you failed. But I’m not entirely heartless. You’ll get another chance soon. Now get out of my sight before I renegotiate our deal! I’ve got a lot of cleaning up to do thanks to you.”

In her mind, Snow saw herself throttling Abacus. She could grab that pegasus by the neck and strangle her until she stopped kicking. It wouldn’t be hard to find the Red Hoof after that - he’d want revenge. She’d go after him, no-holds-barred.

Instead, grumbling, using every ounce of her willpower not to give in, Snow Storm limped off towards her cold and empty home.

* * *

Abacus watched the building with a heavy scowl on her face. Those nosy Guards were crawling all over it, ruining her beautiful plan and defiling what was rightfully hers. Of course, that useless Mare do Well had been as loud as possible to attract their attention. It was the only explanation. She had a mind to go to one of the Oranges right now and cut off an ear or two. That kind of message would get through the little bitch’s thick skull. Maybe then she’d learn a little tact, a little subtlety. Her breath quickened at the thought of inflicting some sort of punishment on them, and it took her a moment to realize that she was actually getting excited.

There’s something wrong with you. That annoying voice was back, deep in the recesses of her mind and quiet as a whisper. It was a voice she had been silencing ever since she was a homeless filly. It was whatever was left of a conscience inside her, and she ignored it. Eventually it would be gone completely, but not soon enough for her liking.

She spotted a Fulake slinking away, doing his best to avoid the Guards all around the building. “Hello, what have we here?” she muttered to herself, hovering into the night air to silently follow him. If she was lucky, he could prove useful.

Very useful, indeed.

Flyntt hesitated slightly before knocking on the door to Captain Leaf’s office. Things had been more tense in the barracks ever since the Mare do Well had brought down Bloodshot, and the Captain was no exception. “Sir! Lieutenant Flyntt and Aella here to report on the building raid!”

“Send them in,” he said, shuffling papers around in his magic. The young cadet nodded, opening the door for the pair and showing himself out.

“Sir,” Flyntt began, eager to get to the point before the Captain accused him of wasting his time, “we have reason to believe the stallions involved in the raid may have been of a different gang to the Red Hoof’s, possibly even belonging to a rival group.”

“Preposterous,” the Captain said at once. “There’s no organization large enough in Manehattan to rival the Red Hoof. It was probably some small-timers with a lot of money.”

“Well, they seemed to think the Mare do Well was one of the Red Hoof’s henchmen, which suggests to me that they definitely aren’t from around here…”

“And do we know for sure that she’s not?” Leaf asked coldly, raising an eyebrow.

“Sir, we have no solid evidence to suggest that. After all, the Red Hoof would never have intentionally let his best fighter die at the hooves of his replacement, not when having both Bloodshot and the Mare do Well under his control would’ve left him untouchable.”

“Bloodshot was never anything more than a wildcard. But I can see your point - you’ve seen her unmasked, correct Flyntt?”

Flyntt tried to hide his shock. The question had come suddenly, catching him completely off-guard. Nothing gets by the Captain. “Y-yes, Sir. I have.”

“And your impressions? Could she be a pony who would likely be willingly involved with the Red Hoof?”

“No, Sir. I can assure you that he of all ponies is the last stallion she would be associating herself with, though I’ll admit things have been rather quiet of late with regards to the Red Hoof…”

“Yet the ponies you met at the attack site suggest that he’s on the move again. Expanding his territory - or trying to. He won’t get what he was hoping for. Not with us there now.”

“Sir, I spoke with one of the conscious ponies there, and he cursed the Red Hoof’s name. I really don’t think these ponies are working under him,” Flyntt said obstinately.

“Yes, but if they’re not working under him, they’re being attacked by him.”

Flyntt sighed, deciding not to press the matter. “What do you want us to do? If there really is a gang in the city large enough to rival his, wouldn’t letting them go at it until one side has been crushed be the easiest option?”

“With a ruined city and unfathomable casualties between them? I think not!”

Flyntt blushed, realizing his stupidity. He stepped back and let his partner do the talking, Aella eager to say her piece. “Sir, what are your orders regarding this new development?”

“For now, we’ll investigate the substance found in the building. It must be something interesting in order for the Red Hoof to want it. Regarding the Mare do Well, we’ll have to leave her alone for now. I’ve not forgotten that letter, you know. Dismissed.”

The Captain glanced up from his desk; only Flyntt had left. “I said ‘dismissed’, Lieutenant Aella.”

“Oh, I heard,” she replied cooly, giving her superior a piercing look. “You dismissed a pair of Guards. Now I’m here as your counselor.”

Captain Leaf cocked an eyebrow at that. “I don’t remember granting you any such title."

“Well, no, you didn’t.” She stretched her neck forward, leaning over his desk and locking eyes with him. “But everypony here comes to me already, so I might as well become one. You’re overworked, sir. Take a break. Go home. Spend time with your daughter. Luna knows you both need it.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” he said, breaking the eye contact and returning to his work. “She’s nearly a grown mare. She can take care of herself.”

“‘Nearly’ doesn’t cut it. You’re away from home too much as it is. How many times does she get to see you? Twice a week, if that?”

Gilded Leaf grimaced, making an effort to not look in Aella’s direction. “What do you want from me? I’m the Captain!”

“Of course you are,” Aella scoffed, frowning. “The only one. The only single position. Sentries get six-hour shifts; Lieutenants get twelve. So why do you have to get all twenty-four? If you declare somepony a Night Captain, you can drop some of that burden you seem to be carrying on your shoulders.”

“Right.” Now he did look up at her, giving her a sardonic snarl. “And when we disagree with each other, the Guard comes to a screeching halt. It was tried once, and it was nothing more than an unending power play. And what if the Red Hoof gets at him? I refuse to dip into his pocket, but that doesn’t mean somepony else won’t. It’s my responsibility to-”

“Your daughter is your responsibility, too!” Aella snapped. She straightened herself, glaring down at him. “It’s hard enough for her without a mother, why do you have to make it harder?”

“Everything I do,” he retorted slowly, grinding his teeth, “I do for her. I’m here so she can live a safe life. What’s a little absence compared to that?” He had been on the verge of shouting, but somehow managed to bring himself under control just in time.

“It’s everything to her,” Aella said, roughly slamming the door as she conceded defeat and stormed out.

Snow Storm didn’t bother to turn on any of the lights - she knew her way around her own house blindfolded. She nearly ripped the suit as she pulled it off, throwing it haphazardly into its drawer and dragging herself out of her room. She didn’t want to be in there tonight. She didn’t even want to be in the house tonight. In less than a week it had gone from a place of warmth and comfort to a place of sorrow and loneliness.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, but she didn’t feel hungry. Not that she could remember the last time she ate, anyway. Maybe she’d had something while talking to Mr. Rind, but even that moment was hazy now.

She stopped before a door she had avoided since returning home. It was a nondescript thing, right next to her own room. She reached for the handle, hesitated a moment, squeezed her eyes shut and opened the door, grimacing as though she were ripping off a bandaid.

Frost Storm’s room appeared frozen in time; it was just as she remembered it. She could see that even in the dark. His bed shared the same wall hers did, so he was always within earshot if she had bad dreams. Both rooms had their own bathrooms - the Oranges considered privacy important. His favorite comb lay askew on his sink - he always slicked back his mane to try and impress the mares around the city.

His wardrobe was still there, messy and unfolded unlike her own kempt dresser. A funny thought struck her as she stood in the derelict room: There’s no dust in here. She ran a hoof across every surface, confirming her findings. Mom must come in here every day and clean…

She crawled into his bed, unused for years, and buried her face into his pillow. His smell lingered, and she sniffed once, twice, and before she realized what was happening, the tears began to fall. She stuffed her face as far as she could into the pillow, muffling her sobs and sporadic screams.

“It’s too much!” she cried into the pillow, not caring if anypony was around to hear. “I can’t do this anymore!”

Yes, you can!

“No! It’s too hard… This fight’s too hard for me!”

You have to keep going, sis! Mom and dad are counting on you!

“NO! I CAN’T”

* * *

From downstairs, the doorbell rang. Snow’s head jerked up at once. She glanced around the room, disoriented, and tried to piece together how she’d gotten there. The images hovered over her pounding head, staying just out of reach, mocking her.

The ring came again, resonating throughout the house.

Yeah, I’m coming, she thought groggily, rolling off the bed and onto her feet. Must’ve fallen asleep. Not for long, considering it was still night out. Perhaps an hour, two at most. She stepped out into the hallway when the doorbell rang for a third time, and that’s when she stopped.

Something’s not right, she told herself, looking in the direction of the stairs but seeing little. Unlike the rooms in which moonlight could peek, the hallway had no windows, leaving everything to appear as ink-stained shadows. She saw them begin to stir, and then shook her head. Whatever it was that wanted her, it was still outside. Letting her imagination run wild now would only hurt.

And I know exactly what it is that wants me. Of course. Everything came back to her at once. Obviously Abacus had reported the failed assignment to the Red Hoof, and now he wanted Snow. They would come under guise, maybe even pretending to be Guards. She knew better. Whoever it was at the door, she’d have to take them down.

The doorbell rang a couple more times as she made her way into the main foyer. She unlocked the door as quietly as possible, and debated on whether or not to let them come in or to throw the door open and attack them by surprise.

She decided on the latter.

Alright… Her hoof hovered over the door’s handle. On three. One…

Two…

THREE! She threw her hoof down upon the long handle and pulled back. A blast of cold air hit her face, and she used the door as leverage while throwing out her free forehoof to strike at nothing.

What the hay?! Her mind finally caught up with what her eyes told her: there were no ponies before her. Something moved beneath her eyes, and she looked down. The first thing she saw was the last piece of her costume, the large hat which had been taken by some bratty little filly. She hadn’t had the time to go look for it, but apparently someone else had.

The hat tilted up, quickly giving Snow her second surprise. “Fi… Figaro?”

* * *

Fire snapped and crackled gently in the hearth; it was the first time in days that any sort of light and warmth permeated the house. The Diamond Pup sat near it, still shivering despite the fire and the thick layers of blankets Snow Storm had wrapped him in.

Snow herself was in the kitchen, trying to fix her new guest something to eat. What would he even like?! Meat, probably. I don’t have any of that! Gems? No, dragons eat gems, or so Frosty used to tell me. But it’s gotta be warm, it’s gotta be-!

Soup! That was the key!

She raced around the kitchen, throwing together the beginnings of a basic soup. It was something they could both share, and it’d warm his belly right up. Speaking of bellies… Hers growled viciously, giving her a pang harsh enough to make her wince. It had been too long since she’d had a real meal, and only now realized she had been starving herself.

She also realized that, for the first time in days, she wanted to eat.

* * *

Figaro shoveled his dinner into his mouth, getting just as much of the broth onto his fur as he did into his stomach. Guess I’ll have to teach him some manners, she thought, smiling down at the pup. Beneath her smile, though, a hundred questions raced through her brain. How did he get here? How did he know where she lived? The possibility that it was just another one of the Red Hoof’s ploys never left her mind.

Stop, you’re being paranoid.

I have to be.

“So… is it good?”

Figaro set his bowl down, stretched his arms, and offered up a loud burp. “Yup! Really good! Thanks, Alphamom!” He pulled the blankets back over himself, burrowing into them and curling up

“Alphamom?” Snow cocked her eyebrow at that. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

The pup peeked out at her from under his blankets. “Well, you killed the big, mean pack leader, so now you’re Alphamom!”

“Oh.” Snow grimaced. So he knows what happened, after all. So much for trying to protect him. “You… do know I didn’t mean to, right? It was an accident.” But was that true? If he had been a pony, she might not’ve kicked him hard enough to send him into the rocky cavern wall. But what about earlier? Jumped by ten or more muscles and I didn’t even severely injure any of them.

You held back.

Of course I did. I have to hold back.

But did you hold back because of what happened or because they were all equines?

I… I don’t know. I don’t know anymore.

“Are you okay, Alphamom? You’re shaking. Are you cold? Do you wanna come under the blankets?”

Snow smiled again, though this time it felt forced. “I’m fine. Let’s just forget about that. How did you get here, anyway?”

“I sneaked aboard that big metal thing. It went really fast!” Part of the blanket began to move, and Snow realized with amusement that Figaro was wagging his tail.

I guess he likes trains, she thought. Remember to take him to the station sometime. “Alright, so why did you come here? Didn’t you like staying with Miss Applejack?”

“I came here because you’re my Alphamom,” he replied matter-of-factly, as though it should have been obvious. “Why? Do… do you want me to go?”

“Not at all! I could use a friend right now.”

“‘A friend’…?” Figaro’s ears perked up, and he jumped out from his blankets. “A friend! I was supposed to give you something!” He patted himself down with his own paws, twirling in circles, even grabbing his own tail once or twice. “Where is it where is it… Wait!”

Snow could see his face brighten as he remembered whatever duty he was meant to accomplish. He pulled open the bell on his collar and proudly handed her a note. Dread seized at her gut as she unfurled the paper, sure that it was indeed one of Abacus’ tricks, after all.

S.,
You look like you could use a friend. That’s what I’m here for. Come to your favorite bakery down on Market. I’ll be waiting there tomorrow.

Don’t disappoint me.
-P.

“Figaro?” Snow asked cautiously, eyeing the note as though it would attack at any moment. “Who gave this to you? What did they look like?”

“Um…” The pup’s face scrunched as he tried to remember. “Uh, he kinda looked like a pony, but he had fluffy ears and really sharp fangs, like me!”

A Fulake, then. ‘P’? Pelleas? Did he intercept the pup before finding out where I was? And for that matter, just how did he find that out? Was it merely a coincidence that he had been snooping around that place?

He’s been stalking you. She shuddered at that. Of course she knew he’d had romantic feelings towards her - highly one-sided romantic feelings. But the idea of stalking was taking it a little too far, in her opinion. “Did he say his name?”

“Nuh uh, he only said he was ‘a friend’, and told me where to find you! It was scary when I got here… I was alone and I didn’t know where to go.” Figaro yawned, crawling back into his blankets. “I like it here. Don’t make me go away, alphamom.”

Moments later, he was snoring. Snow crumpled up the note and tossed it over the grate and into the fireplace, watching the paper blacken, collapse, and then disintegrate in the dancing flames, her thoughts jumbled and racing. At least she'd get some answers tomorrow.

Eventually, both the gentle heat and the hypnotizing fire lulled her down into a restless, terrible slumber.

Author's Note

El Toro? Surely it can't be that El Toro?

(Spoilers: It totally is.)

Is it too late to drop Snow and just write Abacus being a psychopath the whole time? I love her to death. Probably my death. She's gloriously insane and I don't think I've ever had such fun writing a villain.

Chapter Four

“It was your fault.”

She was back in that street where it all began. Frost Storm was standing off with their attackers, blocking them from getting at her. He told her to run, but she wouldn’t this time. No, she would fight. She galloped straight at one of them, lowering her head like an animal. She slammed into one of the shadowy forms at full force, but it did nothing. The collision sent her sprawling onto her rump, where she realized she was just a little filly again.

Frost Storm turned, and Snow’s startled scream escaped her in a choked whisper. His eyes were sunken and pupilless. “It was your fault,” this creature said again. Its voice was hoarse, almost gravelly. The other beings took shape; first Bolt Buck, then Facade, Rough Houser, and finally Bloodshot. He stood like a mountain against her incredibly smaller body. His eyes too were pupil-less, and there was a gaping hole in his forehead. He stood next to Frost Storm; the two looked at each other for a moment, then they all began to advance on Snow, chanting ‘It was your fault’ in a haunting chorus.

She screamed, audibly this time, and scrambled to regain her feet. But they were like jelly beneath her. “No, stop!” she begged, curling up into a ball and beginning to sob as the five creatures loomed over her. She squeezed her eyes shut, moaning as the shadows grew darker and darker-

She opened her eyes, sitting up straight in an instant. She was back by the fireplace, which had gone out while she slept. She cast a glance at the window. Nighttime, but no stars that she could see. She pulled back the blanket covering her. Figaro seemed to be missing. If he was here at all. She was beginning to lose her ability to discern reality from fantasy anymore. Maybe I’m going cra-

Her blood turned to ice. There was a thump from upstairs, like the footfall of a heavy hoof. She came out of the living room and into the main foyer, carefully surveying the house. Everything was dark - too dark, she realized, as though the Princesses themselves had shrouded the world in a complete eclipse. The thump came again, and her heart seemed to skip a beat at exactly the same moment. “F-Figaro?” Her voice seemed small and weak as she called out to the noise upstairs. “Deorsa?”

“YOUR FAULT!" The words exploded from inside her own head, echoing madly in her ears. The door to Mr. Orange’s study blew open, as though it had been harshly kicked, and both her adoptive parents and her brother sauntered out, all wearing the same expression of unbridled fury on faces that bore no pupils. “Your fault, your fault,” they continuously chanted while marching towards her. She let loose with a guttural scream which seemed to break her paralysis. She bolted to the main door, pulling and twisting and slamming her hoof onto it. Finally it gave and she jerked it open, and before her stood the Mare do Well. Attached to her hoof was a leash running to the Diamond Dog which she had kicked a little too hard; now it growled at her, baring its vicious fangs.

“You’re not good enough,” the Mare do Well said to Snow Storm. The mask seemed to glower at her, perhaps even taunt her. “You weren’t then, you’re not now, and you never will be.”

“That’s not true!” Snow shot back. She had to yell over the constant chanting of ‘Your fault’ now. “I’m doing my best!”

The Mare do Well only shook her head. “No. It’s too late. You’re too late.” As if it were a cue, the chanting became ‘Your fault. Too late.’ Snow covered her ears, but still it penetrated deep into her skull.

“No! NO!” She swung a hoof out at the Mare do Well. A pain shot into her hoof as soon as it connected with the creature’s muzzle; the Mare do Well herself hadn’t moved an inch.

“Your fault! Too late!”

“No, stop!” Snow began to cry; she didn’t know what else to do.

“Your fault! Too late!”

“It’s not! I’m not!” As the chant grew louder, her own voice seemed to shrink, coming out in weak, choked sobs.

“YOUR FAULT! TOO LATE!”

“You’ll never be good enough!” The Mare do Well declared, seeming to grow and grow. Snow realized she had become a small filly again, curled up and clutching her own blue tail while sobbing uncontrollably. “You’re a failure, and you always will be!”

“I’m… sorry…” she whimpered. The Mare do Well reached a hoof up, pulling her mask back. Abacus’ face sat beneath it, leering smugly down at Snow.

“Your fault! Too late! Failure!” The words swam around her head, piercing her skull like an arrow. They squirmed their way down her spine, and kept only getting louder and louder.

“Your fault! Too late! Failure!”

“YOUR FAULT! TOO LATE! FAI-”

Snow Storm shot up, breathing sharply. Something near her midsection flailed and scrambled away. Daylight washed the main living room in a soft, comfortable glow. The lingering smells of a dead fire hung in the air. Her coat was matted and tangled from a heavy sweat, and she was hyperventilating. Her heart was racing, feeling as though it were slamming against her chest. Her hoof throbbed in agony, though she didn’t remember doing anything to it last night.

Nearby, Figaro crawled tentatively toward her, ready to run if he was spooked again. “A-Are you okay, alphamom?”

Her breathing slowed its way back to normal, bringing about a wave of nausea so strong it sent her reeling. She could feel the contents of last night’s soup stir within her, threatening to come back up if she so let it. Her stomach felt like it was knotting up, and she burped a little bit, though nothing came out.

“I’m… fine. I think.” She raised her aching hoof. It was scraped and bleeding, as though she had punched a rock. Which was exactly what had happened, she discovered; there were was a small amount of blood on the fireplace’s stone hearth. She recalled the dream, though her brain fought against doing such a thing. There was the Mare do Well… but it was Abacus… she went to hit the specter of her dream, but Abacus hadn’t flinched. Hitting her had felt like-

Solid stone. Ouch. That nightmare must’ve been more vivid than she thought, if she was starting to lash out in real life. “What time is it?” she asked, looking over at the Pup. Her stomach had settled, her shaking had stopped, and she was quite sure there would be no vomiting today.

“Time?” Figaro asked, scooting closer to Snow Storm now that she seemed normal again. She didn’t mean to scare me. She’s not like them. She’d never hurt me.

“Yes. What hour is it?” Figaro only cocked his head at her, confused. Of course, she thought, Diamond Dogs don’t tell time, do they? They don’t need to. “Nevermind. I guess you have a bunch of stuff to learn, huh?” She brought herself to stand up, wincing at the way her body cracked and popped as though she were an old dam. The hoof was the worst of her pain - she thought she might have fractured it in her nocturnal outburst. If only Rarity had put a little healing magic in the suit, too.

“Say, Figaro, I need to head into the city. You want to join me?”

The pup’s ears perked up. “R-Really? I can come with?”

“Sure!” Snow smiled, limping her way upstairs to bundle herself up. In truth, she didn’t want to leave him by himself. Not without anypony here to watch him. “And hey, I know an old Dog you can talk to.”

“Oh…” He let out such a whimper that she stopped and looked at him. His ears were drooping, and she could see his muzzle twitching with… what? Fear? Something else?

“It’s alright,” she reassured him, making her way to the front door. “He won’t hurt you like the others did. In fact, he’ll help you a lot! He’s lived with ponies his entire life.”

“Really? He has?” They were outside now. The sun hung directly above a grey winter’s day. The lands had been frosted the previous night, making the world look like it had turned into crystal.

“Yep! You’ll see. Come on now, we’ve got a lot of walking to do.”

The morning air was crisp and chilly as Amber Shield stood on the corner of Lipizzan Terrace, awaiting her superior. The streets had been powdered with a light coating of snow overnight, giving everything a fresh, immaculate look.

“...You’re early, Cadet.” Murdoc was strolling leisurely up to her. Next to him were a pair of fillies, one slightly older than the other, and both beaming up at Amber. “Why, their school carriage doesn’t even arrive for another five minutes.”

“Oh, sorry sir, I was just…” Amber sighed, shuffling in place. “I could use a little advice, that’s all. I just broke up with Pel and suddenly the city feels a lot lonelier again… and this nonsense with the Mare do Well suddenly switching sides isn’t helping. It doesn’t make sense…”

The younger filly let out a sharp gasp. “You know the Mare do Well?!”

“She’s not real, dumbdumb,” her older sister said, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah huh she is!”

“No, stop being dumb!”

“Girls, please.” Murdoc shook his head, smiling at his daughters. “This is no way to behave with one another. Can’t you see your big sister Amber needs help?”

“Sorry…”

“Yeah, we’re sorry…”

Amber smiled at them. “The Mare do Well is real, you know. And who knows? Someday she might even spot you two and save you from some bullies!”

She turned her attention back to Murdoc. “What should I do about Pelleas, Sir? I’ve been trying to find him ever since I chucked him out… I’m worried he’s starving out on the streets or something…”

Before he could answer, the younger filly spoke up again, looking curiously at Amber. “Who’s that? Is it a boy you like?” she asked, trying to hide what she thought to be a wry grin and failing miserably at it.

Amber paused to consider her answer. “He’s, well… hmm.I thought I’d stopped liking him, but I guess I still do after all. I just want to make sure he’s alright…”

“Hmph.” The older one developed a sour look on her face. “He can take care of himself. Colts are big, mean, dumb, ugly jerks who only care about themselves.”

Amber laughed softly. “True, but… well, you’ll understand someday. Ponies make mistakes… I just hope that big dumb colt’s doing alright.”

“Come now, girls,” Murdoc said, herding them towards the newly-arrived carriage and seeing them onto it. “You have given your big sister plenty of wisdom for today.”

“Can Amber come home for dinner?!”

“Yeah, can she?”

“Well, that depends on her.” Murdoc looked back at his cadet, raising an eyebrow and nodding the smallest nod of encouragement. If she didn’t come, he knew, he would never hear the end of it from the fillies.

“Count on it!” Amber said, waving goodbye.

A hundred different aromas wafted out of The Bread Box as Snow Storm opened the door. The scent of the bakery seemed almost to lift her up and carry her inside. She couldn’t help but smile - even her worst troubles seemed far away, assuaged by the pure goodness of this place.

The Bread Box had enough pastry varieties to feed an army, if they wanted to. A single wall was dedicated to different types of bread; heated racks kept rows upon rows of donuts warm and fresh. All sorts of pies went from the kitchen into the hooves of hungry customers on a daily basis, all of them freshly made. Pre-made pies lined the large counter, from which anypony could order a piece either to sample or simply have a quick snack. Cupcakes, eclairs, muffins and every other pastry imaginable littered the store

The main attraction, though, was the cakes. Several dozens of different cakes all sat inside a glass cabinet, all of them uniquely decorated by Cinnamon Swirl, the owner’s wife. Marble Swirl had found his talent in creating baked goods, but his wife had discovered hers was turning them into pieces of art.

The bakery was a respectable size, with a dozen or so two-seat tables scattered around. Most of the tables were occupied, and there was a general murmur in the air as ponies idly chatted. Snow Storm looked around, though there was no sign of Pelleas.

“This place smells nice!” Figaro said, sliding off of Snow Storm’s back and onto the tiled, black and white checkerboard floor. “Could we get something to eat?!”

“Hm? Oh, of course,” Snow said, barely hearing the pup. Where is he?! She didn’t care for the sinking feeling in her gut. But what could possibly happen in a public place like this? Surely not everypony here could be part of some elaborate trap?

As if they need to be. I’m already trapped. They walked up to the counter, with Snow helping to boost Figaro up onto a stool before settling onto one herself.

“And how can I help you both today, Miss Storm?” Marble Swirl asked, offering both her and Figaro a companionable smile.

“Ice cream for me,” she said, using her forelegs on the counter as a rest for her chin. A freezer was in the back, where some of the more sensitive goods were stored. Originally the ice cream had been saved exclusively for cakes and pies, but the Swirls quickly learned that they were wasting an opportunity by not offering bowls or cones. Once they had rectified their mistake, their profits jumped tremendously. “Fudge. I could use it.”

“Of course, dear. And you, young sir?”

“Uh…” Figaro looked around, scared and excited. His tiny tail wagged across the seat of the stool. “I dunno! I dunno what to have!” He looked up at his alphamom, hoping she wouldn’t be mad.

“Might I suggest a slice of pie?” Marble offered, scooping out a triangular piece of strawberry pie from an almost-empty tin and setting it on a plate. “I’ve not yet met anyone who’s disliked our pies. Why, I even stopped a rampaging dragon with a single tin of apple pie!”

“Did you really?!” Figaro looked up at Marble Swirl, his jaw dropping slightly. Snow Storm let out a few giggles while her own order showed up - it was a story that Marble had been telling young foals, and apparently now pups, as long as she could remember.

“You know it, kiddo! It was a real beast, ready to burn the entire city down! But I stepped up, and I said, ‘Dragon! I propose this to you! You may burn Manehattan down if and only if my rhubarb pie does not adequately fill your mighty belly!’ And you know what happened next?”

Figaro shook his head, mesmerized now.

“Well…” Marble Swirl grinned, proudly puffing out his chest. “He liked it so much that he ordered two thousand more pies to take home. And he said, ‘You have bested my expectations, noble pony. So long as your shop stands, Manehattan will be spared my fury.’ So he took his pies and left!”

"Wow!"

“Yeah, a dragon smaller than a pony that was begging for table scraps…” a sarcastic voice cut in from behind. “Princess Twilight’s hopeless little helper. What a threat.”

Snow Storm swiveled on her stool, coming face-to-face with a lean, buckskin stallion. He brushed a messy lock of black mane away from his eyes, only to have it fall back in place. The beard around his muzzle was similarly black, though far more taken care of than his thick, unruly mane. He hopped up onto the empty seat next to Snow and looked at her for a moment, almost in a scrutinizing way. "You look like you could use a friend."

Snow's ears twitched. He wrote the letter. "What makes you say that?" she asked cautiously.

The stallion shrugged. “Just a hunch,” he said. Snow Storm swore she could see him grin for just a moment as he helped himself to the seat next to her. “Let’s pretend for a minute I’m right. What exactly would you say you need right now, Snow Orange?”

She eyed him for a moment, readying herself in case anything happened. “That’s not my name.”

His grin seemed to widen. “Oh? But you’re the Orange’s kid, aren’t you? If I was lucky enough to have parents like that...” There was almost a note of sadness in his voice for the briefest instant. “I’d happily use their surname, even if it didn’t exactly mesh with my own. The name’s Pick Pocket, incase you were wondering.”

“Of course it is,” she commented sourly, turning away from him. Just a thief. Of course. “And I suppose you’re one of his. Well good news, your ‘boss’ already has me over a barrel. You don’t need to rub it in my face any more than he already has.”

Figaro had been tugging at her tail for a few minutes now, seemingly agitated by something. “Alphamom! Alphamom!” he said in an almost-whisper.

“Hm? Oh! I’m so sorry, I promised you we’d go meet that other Diamond Dog. I completely forgot.” She cast a wary glance at Pick Pocket, subconsciously putting herself in front of the pup. “We could go now, if you’d like.”

Figaro shook his head wildly, whispering, “N-no, it’s that pony! He helped me when I got here. Him and the fangy one.”

“Are you sure?” she whispered back, keeping her eyes on the buckskin unicorn.

“If I may cut in,” Pick interrupted, becoming serious, “I’m here because I have information you might want. Information which, if I was working for ‘him’, would be something I wasn’t allowed to tell you. Would be something that he would flog me for revealing, in fact.”

“Is that right?” she asked sardonically, rolling her eyes. “And you’re just going to give it to me out of the kindness of your heart?”

Pick Pocket flashed her a wry smile. “Just this once. There’s to be a poker game this evening downtown, in one of ‘his’ little hovels. It’s a gaudy little pink building with a broken neon sign, to be specific. One of the biggest loudmouths on the Red Hoof’s payroll will be there. Portly little bastard, you’ll know who it is right away. Whether or not I’m telling the truth is for you to decide. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m a very busy stallion.” He stood up, casually leaving the place while munching on a jelly-filled pastry.

“Poker game, huh?” she said after him, rubbing her chin. Now that was useful information. But for who? That was the real question. It could very well be a set up, or even a test. What do you think, bro? Is it a trap? … Look at me talking to myself again.

They’ve already got you. What do they gain by snaring you in a trap?

Guess I’ll have to find out.

“What’s the matter, Alphamom?” Figaro asked, looking up at Snow Storm. Her face was gaunt and she had been grinding her teeth without realizing it.

“Huh?” Snow Storm shook her head, forcing herself back to reality. “Oh, nothing. Come on, let’s go meet Stonepaw. You’ll love him.”

Gilded Leaf stood at the top of the stairs, watching the floor beneath him. The first shift of the Day Guard were arriving, forcing their way into the Barracks against the combined mass of both night shifts. It was a flurry of activity he hadn’t witnessed since Bloodshot’s first wild rampage years ago, when all four shifts had worked overtime to capture him.

He frowned, sensing a storm brewing beneath him. Chaos would sweep across his Guards unless he did something right now.

“Attention!” he called out, keeping an eye trained on the main door. All of the Day Guard Lieutenants had arrived, and that was good. That’s all he needed right now. “Attention! This is Captain Gilded Leaf speaking!” His voice boomed over the cacophony of noise below, amplified by magic, silencing and grabbing the attention of everypony. “The Night Guard is officially off-duty! Leave now and make room for the Day Guard. Day Guard Lieutenants, report to the conference room immediately. This is mandatory.”

* * *

“Ladies, gentlecolts.” Captain Leaf stood at the head of the rectangular oak table, eyeing each of his Lieutenants in turn. Each of them look confused, some even concerned. Meetings held by the Captain were exceedingly rare, and usually only came about when something was significantly wrong.

“There was an unusual incident last night,” the Captain continued, beginning to pace around the room. “At approximately zero-thirty hours, Lieutenants Aella and Flyntt received a report of activity downtown. What we discovered was troubling: a group or gang outside of the Red Hoof’s influence inside some sort of distillery or processing plant, working with a new substance we have yet to identify. Stranger still, this place had been attacked by the time we got there. Attacked by the Mare do Well. I wish I could say that was all, but it gets worse. I’d be remiss to believe the word of a criminal, but one of the few still conscious claimed that the Mare do Well had been working for the Red Hoof.”

There was a general murmur amongst the group, not of shock, but of discontent and resignation. “So it was just another ruse,” one said, tugging at his thick moustache. “The Red Hoof gave us hope, just so he could snatch it away…”

“Yeah, I knew it was too good to be true! Why would anyone fight for us?”

“We need to learn her identity and bring her down-”

Murdoc stood up from his seat, scowling. “Don’t be fools! The Mare do Well would never work for him. Whatever her reasons for being there, they were her own.”

“Nothing is proven,” Captain Leaf said sharply, quieting the squabbling before it got too out of hoof. “And again, I would hardly believe the word of a lowlife. What matters is what we do know. We know there is a new type of drug in the city, we know this group is not with the Red Hoof, and we have a name. Does ‘El Toro’ sound familiar to anyone here?”

Murdoc’s ears perked; the rest of the group seemed to have no reaction to the name. “... Yes, sir. Supposedly that’s the name of the biggest crime lord in Liveryburg. Their equivalent of the Red Hoof.”

“Liveryburg?” Captain Leaf asked, running the name through his mind. All of the Captains knew each other, of course, though keeping track of them was sometimes more trouble than it was worth. “That would be Captain… Shield. Brass Shield. Your Cadet is his neice, correct?”

“That’s right, Sir. She’s the reason I’ve heard of him… should I bring her in to see what else she knows?”

“Yes, bring her here immediately.”

* * *

Amber Shield gulped, feeling the eyes of everyone present staring down at her. When Lieutenant Murdoc had called her in, her blood froze. She was being brought to bear in front of a good number of superiors. Had she done something wrong? They’re all staring at me. It’s like some sort of tribunal.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened herself up and turned to Captain Leaf. “Y-you wanted to see me, sir?”

“Yes. Please, relax Cadet. It’s to my understanding that you may or may not have valuable information regarding a name. El Toro?”

“... He’s a minotaur. My uncle told me about him,” she began, raising her voice slightly as she gained confidence. Brass Shield had told her the stories dozens of times about his worst enemy. Sometimes she thought it was all he talked about. “He’s more aggressive than the Red Hoof, and much crueler. I remember hearing about this weird chemical he had a monopoly on back home. It wasn’t like Diamond Eyes. It was something… worse.” She shuddered just thinking about what it could do to a pony..

“What is it called, Cadet?”

“W-well, I don’t know if it really comes from a basilisk, but all the stories ended the same… ponies turned to stone by a strange chemical they called Basilisk Venom.”

There was a significant murmur at this, with one Lieutenant standing up, eyeing the Cadet wearily. “Missy, Basilisks are just a myth,” he said in a fading Appleloosian drawl. “There ain’t never been a confirmed report of one in Equestria’s history.”

“Quiet, quiet,” Captain Leaf ordered, sitting back down in his chair. “Basilisk Venom… Thank you, Cadet, you’ve possibly been more helpful than you realize. I’ll be sending a letter to Captain Shield for confirmation. And maybe even a progress report.” He shot Amber a small wink. “Speaking of progress, does anypony have new information regarding the Orange disappearances?”

After a moment of hushed debate, the Lieutenants all shook their heads. “Nothing but hearsay and gossip at this point, sir,” Murdoc offered. “Most ponies believe the Rinds are involved, but it’s nothing but baseless conjecture at this point, and we can’t enter their grounds to check without something solid to back up the investigation.”

“Nothing else? Nothing at all? Very well, then. This meeting is concluded. Those of you with Cadets, get back to your patrols. Those without, keep investigating the disappearances. I want that family found, is that clear?!”

“Yes, sir!”

* * *

“Congratulations, Cadet,” Murdoc said as he and Amber Shield stepped out into the wintery afternoon, heading into their patrol. “You survived your first encounter with the Captain.”

“He’s not so bad. A little stern, but I’m used to that by now.” She smiled, allowing herself a brief moment of insubordination.

“Indeed.” Murdoc looked sideways at her. She could’ve sworn she saw the corner of his mouth twitch. “Now I understand why Captain Brass sent you here.”

“Oh? And why would that be? Besides to get me out of his hair, of course.”

Lieutenant Murdoc snorted. “He obviously suspected this ‘El Toro’ of having greater ambitions, so he sends you here, full of knowledge and possibly experience. Your uncle’s a sly one. Hm, I never did answer your question from this morning, did I?” He looked over at Amber, one eyebrow raised. “Do you still want my advice about Pelleas? I doubt it could be as poignant as the wisdom of my girls.”

“I need to see if he’s worth saving. I guess I’m still hopeful there’s a pony worth caring about underneath all that self pitying immaturity… he was one of the first ponies to make me feel welcome here, Sir. Maybe it’s just sentimentality, but I feel like I owe him one more chance.”

“A cadet is only as worthless as the Lieutenant training him,” Murdoc said coldly.

“I asked Aella about Flyntt. I understand you were friends, once…”

“Once upon a time, perhaps.”

“... I won’t pry. But if you ever feel like telling me the whole story, I’d be very interested to know, sir.”

Lieutenant Murdoc shook his head. “Some other time, perhaps. But for now, I believe I spotted a pair of mischievous colts about to throw rocks at a window. I’ll let you handle them.”

Amber nodded, heading down the street after the two. “HALT!”

Sunset couldn’t come quickly enough for Snow Storm as she paced around the manor, chewing absentmindedly on her lip. Pick Pocket had been vague with a time - probably just to drive her crazy. That poker game she was planning on crashing could be happening right now and she wouldn’t even know it.

He said ‘this evening’.

That could be anytime.

So what’re you waiting for?

I can’t just leave Figaro alone.

She looked over at the doorway to the common room, where the pup was playing with a set of marbles that Stonepaw had gifted him. If she left him alone, they’d come and get him. They were always watching now. They’d snatch away even the tiniest bit of happiness that she could find.

Maybe if I bring him with me…

That’s insane! Don’t forget where you are, girl!

Where I am-? She slapped her forehead, unable to believe she didn’t think of it sooner. Deorsa. She ran upstairs, flew through her room, and nearly slipped on the balcony outside.

“Deorsa! Hey, Deorsa!” Her voice carried out over the grove, twitching dozens of ears and picking up a few heads. The Fulake in question glided over, hovering before her.

“Ma’am?” he asked.

“Mind doing something for me?”

“Of course.” Deorsa’s head was cocked to the side as he waited for her request.

“There’s a Diamond Dog pup in the house-”

The Fulake smiled gently. “Ah, yes. Figaro, I believe?”

Snow Storm cocked her head, pinning her ears slightly. “How do you know?”

“Why, I brought him here last night, ma’am.”

“You? But… but…” Snow Storm’s eye began to twitch. But he said Pick Pocket found him.

Didn’t he also describe a Fulake? Whom you thought was Pelleas? A chill ran down her spine; one that had nothing to do with the evening air. She began to back away from the floating Fulake, bumping her rump on the glass door behind her. “N-nevermind. Leave him alone.”

“Are you alright, ma’am?” he asked, genuine concern in his voice for a moment. “We’ll keep him safe, don’t you worry. He was pining for his Alphamom.” Deorsa chuckled softly.

N-no, it’s that pony! He helped me when I got here. Him and the fangy one. “I think we need to step inside.”

* * *

“I don’t understand,” Snow Storm said, sitting next to the warm fireplace. “You’ve been here for as long as I can remember. You can’t tell me you’ve been some kind of spy this whole time…”

At this, Deorsa smiled a warm, toothy smile. “I suppose if you want to use that word, though it is much more complicated. Truth be told, Pick Pocket and I have known each other for a long time, but my being here has very little to do with him.”

Snow Storm snorted. “You can’t possibly think I’d believe that. It’s too convenient.”

Deorsa shrugged. “Believe what you wish, ma’am. But I hope you believe I do love working here. I take my job very seriously.”

In fact, Deorsa had worked quite hard to get himself up to Foreman of the night shift. She could even remember him taking a few shifts in the day just to prove himself.

“But why not tell me any of this before?” Snow Storm asked, looking at him accusingly. “Why did I have to find out this way?”

The Fulake turned away from her, looking ashamed. “The truth be told? I did not believe it mattered until now. I know sometimes it must feel like the whole city knows who you are beneath that mask, but that is not the case. I… I had to tell Pick who you were, why you were important. I almost had to beg for his help in all of this. I never brought him up because… well, I did not want to get your hopes up. He would not budge until I negotiated a price.”

“... A price?” Snow Storm cocked her eyebrow. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear.

“Yes. Three crates of fruit a week, one of them Nightfruit.”

“Three crates a week!?” Snow Storm’s jaw dropped. “That’s… that’s… we already give the Guard four!”

Deorsa shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, it goes to a worthy cause. Like it or not, his help comes at a price.”

“I suppose I have to tolerate it, at least.” Snow Storm whistled toward the common room. “Figaro? Come here for a moment!”

Figaro crawled downstairs lazily, stretching out and whining softly as he stared up at Snow Storm. “What is it, alphamom?”

“I have to go out again, kiddo. You can’t come with me this time, but Deorsa here will see you’re well taken care of.” She shot the Fulake a look. “Won’t you?”

“Of course! Like I’d let a kid down, pony or not,” he said, almost offended at the suggestion.

“Now then, I’m late for a poker game.”

“So, do I have your agreement? It needs to be unanimous,” the portly stallion said. A fat, smug smile stretched across his worn face as he gazed across the table at the solemn ponies before him. “One hundred bits a week in exchange for complete protection from the Mare do Well and the Red Hoof. I’m really being too generous, I know…”

“Man…” one of them said, haphazardly tossing his cards, a pair of deuces, onto the table with disgust. “Your deal’s about as stacked as your deck! We pay you to join your gang, you get all our profits, and we probably don’t even get to run our own operations anymore?! Do we at least get greased up before the big guy sticks it to us?”

The stallion stopped smiling, though his eyes remained every bit as cold as they had before the pony before him had dared speak out. “What you get,” he said through gritted teeth, “is the assurance that today won’t be the last of your meaningless, miserable existence. And if you don’t like it, tell me what better offers you’ve been given? No- tell me what other offers you have at all!”

The silence that hung in the air after his outburst seemed to speak volumes,and his sickly smile returned. “You see, gentlecolts, I don’t have to take this money under the pretence of a boring card game. If I wanted, I could have my men pull the gold from your fillings right here and now. But because I am a generous individual, I let you play. And who knows? Sometimes you might even win…”

The stallion leaned back on his chair, not noticing the figure landing silently behind him. “But not tonight. Tonight belongs to-”

“The Mare do Well!” one blurted out, jumping backwards in their seat.

“The Mare do Well? No you idiots, tonight belongs to the Re-”

“Why don’t you deal me in?” her voice came from behind him, cutting him off. She smiled a bit upon seeing their faces drop at her arrival. A couple of them glanced suspiciously at the pudgy host.

“Just what the hell is this?!” the one from before burst out, scrambling to grab what remained of his bits. “This a set-up? Is that it, fatso? Force us into joining or you sic your new dog on us?!”

The stallion squirmed in his seat, starting to sweat, the cogs clearly turning in his nasty little brain as he struggled to think of a way to turn the situation to his advantage.

“Y-yeah, well the Red Hoof has ears all over this city, and clearly he heard you idiots talking like you weren’t going to pay up. Now maybe you’ll show some respect at last…”

The stallion pointed to the pony that had been questioning his ‘protection promise’, grinning widely. “That’s the one, right there. Said we weren’t being fair. Maybe you can show him what unfair looks like, heheheh…”

The Mare do Well eyed him for a moment, before turning her attention back to her target. “Mm, no, I don’t think so. I came here to talk to you.”

The stallion tried to shrink back into his chair, though it wasn’t working. “M-me? Whaddaya wanna talk to me for…?”

“I have a question.” She slipped a foreleg around the back of his neck, grabbing at what little mane there was and pulling on it. “A simple question.” She jerked her hoof back, satisfied at the grimace on his face. If he was smart, she wouldn’t even have to rip any hairs out. “Answer it for me and I’ll leave you alone: Where is your boss keeping the Orange family?”

“You… you want the Oranges?”

“Yeah.”

“Then go check a fruit bowl or somethin’.”

Snow Storm threw the table across the room, sending cards and bits flying everywhere. A few of the gang ponies cried out as they ducked beneath the projectile. She tipped the stallion backwards out of his chair, pouncing on him before he stopped his rolling, and stepped a foot down onto his fat throat.

“Listen here you tub of guts!” she roared, snarling. Oh how her throat was going to be sore in the morning. “I’m not in the mood for games! Tell me where they are!” She stepped down harder, until his front legs were flailing and scrabbling for purchase against her.

“Don’t… know!” he managed, his face turning blue as his eyes bulged in a grotesque little display.

“Then where’s the Red Hoof’s base?! Answer me!” She pulled her hoof away from his neck before he could conveniently pass out, instead smacking him across the face. What he didn’t know was how much effort it took for her to hold back the force of the blow. "Answer! Or I'll do to you what I did to Bloodshot!”

The room fell deathly silent at the mention of his name. Right up until the monster known as Bloodshot had taken his last breath, most of the Red Hoof’s gang had never considered that the Mare do Well would-or could-go that far… despite the final blow having come from another.

The events of that night had become twisted into legend. Tales of a stallion so badly beaten he could no longer be identified floated through the criminal underworld, and ever since then the Mare do Well had carried with her an air of menace even she had not intended, but one she would gladly take advantage of..

“I… I dunno! They send a guy to meet me every Friday outside the Rind’s main grocers! That where I get told what to do…”

“The Rinds…?” Snow could almost physically feel the momentum shifting away from her. She was slowly losing the advantage she’d gained over this creton. All because of a name. “The Rinds are involved with the Red Hoof?!”

“Maybe,” the stallion coughed out, sounding genuinely uncertain himself, “Or maybe they just want people to think they’re in league with the Rinds. Gives ‘em someone to take the fall if a plan ever goes wrong.”

She moved her face close to his again - it was a nice intimidation tactic, she found out long ago. Get up in their face and they crumble immediately. “Fine, then. Here’s what you’re doing to do for me-” She lifted a rear leg up, striking a stallion who’d been sneaking up on her dead center in the muzzle, feeling the bones splinter beneath her hoof.

“Anyone else feel brave enough to try that?!” she yelled, not bothering to look around. If she did, the stallion beneath her would make his move.

“No? Good. Now, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to meet whoever it is you meet, and I’m going to be there. Got it?”

The portly stallion nodded slowly, not daring once to take his gaze from her own.

“Good boy.” She patted his cheek, resisting the urge to plow her hoof right through it, and strolled away.

Discontent followed her departure, leaving the dim, smoke-filled room completely silent. “So, ‘protection’, huh?” one of the gang leaders finally said, shaking his head in contempt. “We saw how well you can protect us from the likes of her. I dunno about you guys, but I'm out. I ain't steppin' in her way.”

There was a small murmur of agreement, followed by the shuffling of hooves as the small-time gang leaders took what bits they could grab from the spilled table.

The stallion snarled, picking himself up off of the floor with one foreleg while massaging his throat with the other. “Wait!” he begged uselessly after the departing ponies. “It’s just a misunderstanding, that’s all! The Red Hoof-”

“The Red Hoof can kiss my ass,” said Pettie Trotts, the only mare in the room. She sent what was left of the bits flying into a her purse with magic and sauntered to the door, flanked by a pair of her muscular bodyguards. “The way I see it, she won’t mess with us if we don’t mess with her. In fact, I think I might go legit. C’mon boys, the night’s still young and I’ve just acquired some spending money.”

Amber Shield wobbled out of Murdoc’s home, feeling as though her belly was going to burst. The Lieutenant’s wife had cooked and baked more courses than she could count, and had insisted the ‘growing young filly’ eat no less than five platefuls.

“Urgh,” Amber muttered, dragging herself down the sidewalk. The lighting on Lipizzan Terrace was clear, but not too bright. She passed the corner where she always waited for Murdoc, almost regretting not taking up the offer to sleep in the spare bedroom. Her own apartment was only a few blocks away, but tonight that felt like miles.

Her ears flicked, as though picking up a small, out-of-place sound. Her stomach tightened, feeling a sense of dread as she passed from the comforting glow of the street lights into relative darkness.

It’s okay. Nopony will mess with you. You’re a Guard. And she wore the armor to prove it. Unlike many of her peers, she chose to wear hers home. More than just a hunk of metal around to protect her body, her armor represented who she was, and she deigned to keep it perfect.

Her ears twitched again. She thought she might’ve heard the crunching of snow behind her. She felt a chill, as if there were eyes upon her.

Get a hold of yourself! She fought against the urge to look around, even casually. Her brain was just playing tricks on her, that’s all. It wouldn’t hurt if I picked up the pace, though, would it?

She did just that, moving into a lengthy stride which shortly turned into a trot. The hairs on the nape of her neck stood up - she could almost feel a hoof reaching out to her. She shuddered, picking up the pace yet again, going from a brisk trot into a gallop.

Don’tlookbackdon’tlookback. Too late. She turned her head around, seeing the inky shadows of trees in the night. It was enough to send her bolting down the empty sidewalk. There were things there. Things that were definitely watching her. She would trip and they would pounce. The shadows began to close in around her. She should’ve stayed with Murdoc tonight, now it was too late, the boogeymare was real and it had claimed its next victim, she was never going to make it home now she was-

“Hello, Amber,” came a cold, familiar voice from the darkened apartment. Amber Shield jumped, fumbling with the chain on the door as she tried and failed to lock it. “You’re home a little late.”

“W-what?” she stammered, backing away from the voice. “Pel, is that you? Please...”

“Why, I’m touched. You almost sound like you care.”

“Pel, look, I’m sorry,” she began, looking into the shadows with a sympathetic smile. She was still breathing heavily from her mental scare. “I shouldn’t have kicked you out. I promise I won’t do it again…”

“Don’t sweat it. I’ve found somepony else, anyways. Somepony who appreciates what I do for her. That’s not what I came here to discuss.”

“...Oh,” she said, sounding almost disappointed. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, but what are you here for, then?”

“I need your help. The Red Hoof is up to something big, and it’s all going to come to a head in two nights. Warehouse C, down at the docks. We can bust the place together.”

“...I don’t understand, I thought you hated the guards… why would you suddenly want to help them? And especially me! I threw you out to the streets…”

“Look, the truth is… I did a lot of self-searching. I get it now. I was stupid to put everything into the Mare do Well, and I threw away a career for nothing. But maybe… maybe by doing this, they’ll let me back in. I came to you because… because well you’re the only one I can trust. You tossed me out but that was my fault, too. Not yours. I want to make everything up and move on.”

“Should I tell my superior? We’d have a better chance of bringing them down if we have the advantage of greater numbers....”

“No. No other guards. I might be able to round up a couple of friends I’ve made, but that’s it. Any more guards and the whole operation is blown. Understand?”

“Well… alright. But what about the Mare do Well?”

“She’s one of the Red Hoof’s. Always has been. She’s part of his game. We may see her there. If we do, she’s our enemy, whatever she might say.”

“Pel…” Amber began, before stopping herself. “Alright. Fine. I’ll see you on Friday, then. And I’m… glad you found someone.”

“You’re the best. Thanks for helping me.” She heard his footfalls in the dark, listening as he jumped out of her opened window and flew away into the night.

The walk home felt a little shorter than usual that night, and as Snow Storm opened the door of the manor she couldn’t help but smile to herself, satisfied to have finally made some progress with finding her parents. As irritating as that stallion from the bakery had been, she had to admit that his information had been useful. And best of all, she had been given an opportunity to take out her frustrations on a nasty little bully for the first time in weeks. I can’t wait ‘til it’s your turn, Abacus…

“Well now, you seem cheerful,” Pick Pocket’s voiced floated down from across the hall. “Oh, hope you don’t mind, I thought I’d make myself at home. Did my info help you, by the way? No thanks needed,” he said, flashing that insufferable grin.

“Why am I not surprised?” she growled, looking exasperatedly at Pick Pocket. “I assume Deorsa let you in?”

“He did… oh, you aren’t bothered by that, are you? It’s not like we’ve been scheming behind your back or anything. It just helps to have friends all around. I will admit I was wrong, however. I couldn’t have been bothered with something like this until he came to me, cashing in on a favor or two. But now… now it’s getting good. It’s getting fun.”

Pick Pocket suddenly smiled, having seemingly remembered something important. “Oh, this is for you,” he said, handing her a letter.

She picked it up, cringing as she read its contents.

Dear slut,
I got a new chore for you. I’m sure you’ll love it! Friday night, same fountain.

xoxo,
Abby

P.S. I hope you didn’t think I wouldn’t find out about what you did tonight. I know everything that goes on in this city.

Snow Storm balled up the letter, tossing it into the crackling fireplace. “Were you meant to give that to me, or do you just like rummaging through my mail, too?”

“I was curious,” he said, shrugging innocently. “Curious as to why she’s playing with you like this. She has all the power here, and she’s not using it to do anything but gloat and antagonize you… don’t you find that strange? The so-called smartest mare in Manhattan, and this is the best she can do?”

“She’s sadistic. She’s just toying with me like a rat in a maze.”

“And yet she could be doing so much more… after all, the Red Hoof doesn’t care about torture. All he wants is results, and she’s still his subordinate… for now.”

Snow Storm’s ears twitched. “What do you mean, ‘for now’? She’s devoted to the Red Hoof. Whatever she’s having me do is in his name.”

“She’s doing to him what we’re doing to her. Playing into his hoof, making her loyalty seem absolute… but it’s an act. The more you put pressure on her, the more you disrupt her plans, the more the cracks will show.”

“How can you know that?” Snow asked, beginning to pace around the room. Her legs were restless, even if the rest of her were exhausted. “How did she even know what I did? It’s like she’s everywhere now.”

“She likes to make ponies think that, but the truth is she’s cocky, and not as invincible as you think. We can defeat her by playing helpless, then striking when the time is right…”

Pick stopped smiling for a moment, becoming serious. “The time is coming when we teach this bitch a lesson. She knows about you, but she doesn’t know about us. Not yet.”

“And what happens when she does find out about us? She’s already made it clear that I can’t go to the Guard. She wants me alone.”

“That’s why we need to get a proper plan together, and fast. We need her to think you’re completely alone, and that means we can’t stick to a regular meeting schedule or place. Her guys are everywhere, and if you start hanging around the places she doesn’t monitor too much she’ll get wise.”

“... There is a possibility. That card game you sent me to. The fatso running it is set to meet another one of the Red Hoof’s lackeys in two days, near the Rind shop. It might just be a dead end, but…”

“Ah, I see. My friends and I will handle that, if you don’t mind. If lardass sung to you as easily as that about the meeting, you can be sure they’ll be expecting you to show up. Abacus might even be counting on it… who knows, you might just make her angrier by not giving her the satisfaction of getting to punish you for it.”

Pick grinned devilishly placing a paper bag by the coffee table he stood next to. “Here. Another present for you. Now then, if you’ll excuse me, the night is still young...”

Before she knew it, Pick Pocket disappeared with a little pop! Curious, Snow Storm peeked inside the bag, seeing few round, hard rubber objects with pins poking out horizontally from their tips. Beneath them was a small note.

S.,
Hope you like these. They’re smoke bombs - I made them myself.
-P.

She grabbed one out of the bag, rolling it in her hooves. Things are starting to look up, she thought, admiring the piece of craftsmanship, studying to see how the little device worked. It looked fairly simple - just pull the pin and toss it. If it worked, smoke would burst out of it, giving her a convenient shroud.

Soon, Abacus, she thought as she played with the little bomb. Soon.

Chapter Five

January 10th, 1008,

That was the best sleep I’ve gotten since this whole mess started. Not even a single nightmare. Maybe it’s because Figaro cuddled up to me - by being his comfort, he’s comforting me. We even had a very lovely day yesterday. It was my one ‘day off’ before the hell I have to suffer through tonight.

Or maybe it was because I actually got something done. I got the chance to fight back, even a little bit. I’ll admit that some part of me wanted to keep my hoof down on that pudgy stallion’s throat until he turned purple and stopped flailing, but that wouldn’t have solved anything. As it is, I’m surprised Abacus hasn’t woken me up in a fit of rage. I’m almost afraid to see what kind of repercussion I’ve earned for my ‘insubordination’.

It’s starting to matter less and less, though. I’m gaining the upper ground. I have friends even she can’t touch.

Or do I?

I’m not sure how far I can trust this ‘Pick Pocket’. Even his name rings with an unscrupulous tone… but then, what’s in a name? If names were anything to go by, I’d be a wintery weather pegasus.

What a nice, calm, boring life that would be.

Deorsa seems to trust him, and I trust Deorsa. He might’ve gone behind my back on this one, but his intentions were good. Then again, Primrose did the same thing, and look where it got me-

No. I can’t keep doing this to myself. I’ve got to trust somepony in this city. Pick’s already proven to be helpful. I was going into that building expecting a trap and a hearty laugh at my gullibility - instead, I have a thin shred of hope. And Deorsa has never given me any reason to doubt his loyalty.

Loyalty… such a simple concept that can become complicated. Maybe I should bring Bolt Buck the next time I meet with Pick - they’d get along great. That’s a pegasus who’d bend over backwards if I demanded it of him.

And speaking of loyalty, where do the Rinds fit in all of this? That stallion mentioned meeting outside of the Rind shop. Is it coincidental? Or… are they involved with the Red Hoof?

And are all of them? Julius Rind seems like the only one with any morals left- No, that’s not fair. Valen follows his brothers because he has nothing else to do. If I can just get him to think for himself…

In fact, I think I’ll go pay their shop a visit. I have questions that need answering, and Julius Rind is going to answer them.

Old sires can be stubborn, but so can I.

-Snow Storm.

“Ha!” Snow Storm thrust her forehooves out in quick jabs, strafing circles around a very well-worn mannequin. Not that it was the first one she’d tormented, however. Off in the corner of her private exercise room was a large pile of broken, battered, and splintered wooden ponies.

Of course, most of them had been destroyed only in the past few days.

Bolts of pain shot up her leg whenever she struck with her bandaged hoof, but it only served to spur her on. Work with it. Not against it. Yes, that was key. The pain was becoming familiar to her; she could ignore it and continue striking.

She stumbled a moment, her rear legs becoming tangled as they adjusted to the weights attached to her fetlocks, and she admonished herself for the mistake. One stumble is all it took for her to lose the advantage.

“Ma’am?” a familiar voice called out, “I’ve brought you something to drink.”

Deorsa placed a tray on the table nearby, a pitcher of ice-cool lemonade tempting the tired mare. “You might burn out if you don’t take a break every now and then. I know you want to rescue them but you won’t accomplish anything if you’re too tired to fight at the end of the day.”

“Thanks,” she breathed out. “Come on, have a drink with me.” She collapsed into the chair, pulling her headband off and wiping away the sweat. “I just might have to step outside to cool down soon.”

Deorsa nodded as he sipped his drink, staring at the floor. “We’re doing everything we can, Snow. I just wish we had more info for you.”

“You know…” Snow Storm stared at her drink for a moment. “I’m only trusting him because I trust you.” She picked her gaze up, locking her eyes with the Fulake. “Can I trust him?”

“You can. He just acts like that because it’s the only life he’s ever known,” Deorsa said cryptically. “But when it comes to intelligence gathering… well, he used to work under Princess Luna herself.”

Snow Storm raised an eyebrow. “Luna would want a… brigand like that?”

Deorsa shrugged, “He’s good at learning things. Valuable things. Though eventually that tongue of his got him thrown out of Canterlot altogether… you ask, and he’ll tell you he’s a Manehattan stallion, born and raised, but he’s actually from a lot further afield.”

“Mm…” The mare downed half of her glass. “Lemonade, but… do I detect the smallest trace of one of your nightfruits?” she asked, licking her lips.

“If there was even a trace in there it’d be overpowering. A couple drops on a lemon and you could eat it raw if you wanted… Fulake fruits are ridiculously sweet.”

“I’ve always wanted to try one,” she admitted, smiling a bit. “I’ve just never been brave enough.”

“I’ll bring you one from the grove once all this is over. After all, we’ll need to celebrate once your parents are back…” Deorsa paused for a moment in thought. “I doubt Mr. Orange will be happy with Figaro being here, though. He hates dogs…”

“Dad hates dogs? I never knew that.”

Deorsa sighed, nodding. “Always has. Doubt he’d let a Diamond Dog stay especially. Those things get dangerous once they’re fully grown, y’know.”

“Well…” Snow Storm chuckled weakly. “That’s kind of the idea…”

Deorsa grinned, “Hah! You’re as sly as your mother, that’s for sure. We wouldn’t need guards with a Diamond Dog patrolling the place…”

The Fulake drained his glass, smiling at her. “I hope we find them soon.”

“We will, Deorsa.” She downed the rest of her drink. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pay somepony a visit.”

“En garde,” said Lieutenant Murdoc, training his horn at his cadet and firing a beam at her.

Amber Shield’s face was taut as she struggled to keep up a magical barrier. After a few moments it shattered, the mare grunting and shaking her head.

“I’m sorry Sir, I’m just having trouble keeping up today… I’ve got other things on my mind.” Other ponies.

“That’s obvious,” Murdoc said, a little more harshly than he intended. “But every unicorn in the Guard must learn at least a basic shield spell. Why your uncle never taught you baffles me.”

“...Sir, I’ve already explained my relations to other members of my family are strained,” she replied, a trace of frustration in her voice, “and it’s starting to bother me how every conversation we have always seems to lead back to them eventually. I’d prefer to be seen as just another cadet, if I may request that of you.”

“Of course,” Murdoc conceded. “But you’re going to need to get over this mental block sooner or later. You must concentrate. Focus your shield. It may someday be the difference between life and death.”

Amber closed her eyes, imagining a green bubble around herself. She did her best to empty her thoughts. Empty. Empty… empty like her house when she got home. Free of that annoying stallion. The stallion that had already found another mare.

Amber gritted her teeth, the shield around her crackling angrily, expanding out beyond it’s normal limits. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she wondered how she could have thrown the only stallion that had bothered to talk to her away… and how easily she had been replaced.

A beam cut across her face, stinging her cheek. “A better attempt,” Murdoc said. She could see he was panting and sweating as well. “But you’d still be dead.”

Amber glared at him, and for a moment her shield shimmered, his beam reflected back at him. She gasped, the shield shattering as she rushed over to him. Even though he was barely phased, there was a glint of shock in his eyes. “S-Sir! Are you alright?”

“I’ve had worse,” he said, rubbing his left foreleg. “My father was the one who taught me. I’m convinced he took a certain pleasure in aiming for me…”

Amber bowed low, “I’m sorry Sir. I… there’s something very important I need to tell you.”

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow while levitating a towel to Amber.

Amber smiled weakly at him as she wiped her face, sighing. “Pelleas came to my place a few nights ago. He mentioned something about a plan to bring down the Red Hoof with a few new friends of his… he asked me not to get the guard involved, but something about it all feels… off.”

“Did he, now?” Murdoc’s face tightened. “Did he say where? When?”

“That warehouse, the one that everyone’s been talking about in the Barracks… as for the day, he said it was all happening tonight, and that I should come alone.”

“I see. Did he say anything else?”

“Not much. He mentioned he had already found someone else, but more than that, he seemed… different. I’m not completely sure it isn’t a trap…”

“It may very well be,” Murdoc agreed, pacing around the training room. “But we’ve been noticing recent activity down at the docks. What you’re telling me may very well be true.”

“...Can a squad be dispatched without drawing their attention? If they were sent out early enough they might be overlooked…”

“We will let the Captain worry about strategy. But I can assure you they won’t ever know we’re there. Now, then, I believe it would be prudent for you to give your report to the Captain.”

“Understood. Oh, and apologies for letting my anger take over, I’ll make sure my concentration doesn’t slip again, Sir.”

The Rind shop was quiet, as it usually was these days. Julius sat, idly recounting his days of youth when there was barely enough time to keep up with all of the customers. Now he could see them only as ghosts of a far-off time, and in their place was dust and the occasional spider.

He was pulled from his musings by the creaking of the stairs behind him. Nopony’s supposed to be up there… he thought, grabbing a splintered baseball bat he kept beneath the counter. He turned towards the stairs, watching them carefully.

“Business seems to be booming,” the Mare do Well said, coming into full view.

“What are you doing here?” Julius Rind frowned, not quite ready to put the bat down just yet.

“I’m interested in getting a couple of oranges.”

Julius Rind’s frown deepened. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Is that so? Because I overheard something interesting last night.”

“You’re the city’s superhero. I expect you hear some interesting things every night,” he retorted with a smirk. “Now could you please get to the point? I have customers to serve.”

“Is your family working for the Red Hoof?”

“I am not,” he said at once, with more conviction than expected. “I want nothing to do with the mob.”

“That didn’t exactly answer my question,” she said coldly.

“I no longer have any say in the family business. I’m not even a figurehead at this point… if you want to waste your time with deception and thinly-veiled insults, speak to my worthless sons. Other than that, if you have nothing you wish to purchase you may as well leave.”

“If I find out your family has been working with him, the Guard will know about it.”

“I’m as in the dark as you are,” he said simply. “I have no love of what my sons have done with my business. Frankly, if I knew anything that could have them put away then I’d have alerted the authorities long ago.”

“How convenient for you.”

“Convenient?” he snarled, his face turning into something sour. “Being forced out of my position because of my age is inconvenient. Siring a bunch of worthless, corrupt sons that consider you a relic is inexcusable. Come back to me once you’ve been betrayed by someone you loved.”

“Fine.” She turned back up the stairs, stopping only to look back at the old sire. “Just make sure your family stays out of my way.”

The words that followed were chilling in their sincerity, as Julius Rind turned to her one last time.

“... What family?”

“What’s going on back here?” Amber Shield demanded, stepping into an alleyway and blocking its only exit. Down near the end, a large stallion had cornered a mare.

“Nuttin’ you need concernin’ yourself with, missy,” the stallion said, leering over his prey. “Me and the lady was just havin’ ourselves a chat, that’s all.”

“I don’t think she wants to talk to you more than anything else does, now either get out of here or face arrest. I won’t ask twice.”

The stallion turned around, coming face-to-face with Amber and standing at least twice as tall as her. “And who’s gonna make me? You, pipsqueak? I ain’t afraid of no pint-sized guard.”

Amber grinned, charging towards the stallion, blocking his first punch with the shield spell she had been practicing. Before he had a chance to throw a second she struck his jaw with a powerful left hook, shouting out to the mare, “I’ve got this, run!”

The stallion staggered backwards, snarling. “No mare hits me!” He pivoted, bucking at her with both hind legs.

Amber winced as her shield splintered, absorbing only half of the shock. She snarled, horn glowing as she fired a bolt of energy at his left shoulder.

“You can’t do that!” he shouted, looking shocked at her attack on him. “That’s assault! Brutality! I have rights as a Manehattan citizen!”

“You have the right to remain silent,” she growled, her horn glowing threatening again as the mare fled the scene. “On the ground. Hooves behind your head. Now. “

“Or else what!?” he challenged, staring her down. “You gonna murder me? You’re all corrupt enough to do it!”

“I don’t have time to listen to your whining. I know exactly what you had planned for that mare, and anypony sick enough to even consider such a thing doesn’t deserve any goddamn rights. Now put your hooves behind your head and get on the ground!”

Instead, the stallion tried one last desperate attempt at attacking Amber, throwing his whole body at her in a tackle. The mare winced as she went flying from the force of the blow, hitting a wall. He was too close to prepare another spell, and he started kicking her, stopping her from picking herself up. Damnit, not like this!

A flash of light blinded Amber, and she felt the vicious stallion being quite literally pulled away. Blinking the spots from her eyes, it took her a moment to realize she was looking out through a barrier. Looking up, she saw Lieutenant Murdoc standing in front of her, furious.

“I’m sorry, Sir… they just wouldn’t cooperate. I even tried scaring them with a spell, but I guess I’m just not intimidating…”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, cadet,” he said gently. “You, on the other hoof…” He gave a death glare to the leg-locked stallion, who was squirming and shouting nonsense about assault and lawsuits. “You have much to be sorry for.”

“She was asking for it! Not my fault she was playing coy… then this miserable mare scared her off! Ruined my whole night…””

“I’ll be sure to make your night even worse,” Murdoc said, his tone icy.

Amber shook her head as she got up, looking ashamedly to the floor. “I still have a lot to learn. If you hadn’t been there I’d be dead by now…”

The mare that had been cornered now sidled up to Amber, hiding behind her from both the arrested stallion and Murdoc. “Is h-he caught?” she asked, wincing when Murdoc turned his head their way.

Amber turned to her, smiling gently. “Yeah, he won’t be bothering you anymore. I’m going to need to ask a few questions if you don’t mind. Protocol and all that.”

“Of course,” she said, watching with relief as the two stallions left.

“Firstly, I’ll need your name, ma’am.”

“Oh, right, yes, well… name.” She squinted for a moment as her mind finally began to calm down. “Petunia! Just Petunia. I raise flowers.”

Amber jotted down her name on a piece of paper, smiling at her. “Alright Miss Petunia, could you describe the events leading up to your harassment this evening?”

“Well…” Petunia pawed nervously at the ground, clearing her throat. “I was making a delivery. I own my own shop, you know. I’m the only one there but I do deliveries and catering and- oh I guess that’s not very helpful? Well I was making a delivery. To him, actually - not that I know him, but he ordered a bouquet and wanted them delivered, so I did. But it was some kind of… I dunno, romantic gesture for me? When I told him I wasn’t interested, he got mean. He threw the flowers right back at me and chased me out here. I thought I could get away in this alley but I guess I didn’t realize it was a… dead end.” She winced at the last words, as though they had almost become too literal.

Amber Shield gave her a strained smile. Sweet Celestia, she could talk the wings off a pegasus. “I see. Well, you won’t need to worry about him again, though I suggest taking a bodyguard with you when dealing with new customers in future. Oh, and how much money were the flowers he ruined?”

“Don’t worry about that.” Petunia smiled weakly. “I always get my money upfront. If they don’t like it, they don’t get flowers, right? Heheh…”

Amber Shield shook her head. “It’s the least I can do after everything you’ve been through today.”

“I really don’t need the reimbursement, but…” The mare fumbled around in her bag for a moment, pulling out a card and giving it to Amber. “It’d be really great to see you again. Off-duty, even! Come here tonight, if you can make it. Equinimity is a great little bar.”

Amber blushed, grinning sheepishly as she took the card. “S-sure. Take care out there, Petunia.”

It was unusual for Snow Storm to wear her suit out during the day, but then again this had been a particularly unusual day. Hours after her encounter with the old sire, she had simply wandered aimlessly from rooftop to rooftop, helping out wherever she could.

In fact, she was restless. She had to do something. The day seemed to crawl by, taunting her with its deliberate slowness. She had hoped more than once that Abacus would just tell her what to do right now instead of later.

She sat on a building, looking up into the sky. Weather Pegasi flew by, some of them waving at her. She, of course, had heard a loud scream from this direction, but by the time she arrived the Guard had taken care of it.

She could’ve gone back to being a directionless vagabond, killing the time, but now it was as if she were waiting for something.

“Huh. Didn’t think I’d say you out this early,” a familiar voice called out from behind her. Bolt Buck floated behind her, wearing a uniform she hadn’t seen before. “Anything the matter?”

She turned around, smiling - not that he could see it. “To be honest? Everything’s the matter right now. What’s with the getup? You become a garbage horse?”

“Not quite,” he chuckled, brushing his unkempt forelock out of his eyes. “I’m just working on a trial basis with an old friend of mine. Can’t really talk about it just yet, but it’s the sort of job I could do just as easily elsewhere…”

Bolt Buck sighed for a moment, frowning. “I don’t feel like there’s much left here for me. Has… has she tried contacting you at all?”

“You mean Primrose?”

“...Yeah.”

“Not since that day, no. And I wouldn’t care if she never did again.”

“She did it for me, so in a way I’ve managed to hurt you once again. I’m so angry with her… do you want me to take her away from the city?”

“I don’t want you to leave the city,” Snow Storm said bluntly. The words came as a surprise even to herself. “You’ve managed to become a friend I can rely on… strange as it sounds.”

Bolt Buck turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “Funny how much things can change, isn’t it? Though I get the feeling this is just the beginning… But, you never actually told me why you’re out so early, Mare do Well.”

“I had to go see somepony,” she said. He nodded in understanding, knowing better than to pursue it any further than that. “And now I’m just waiting for midnight. You wouldn’t happen to have a time machine with you, would you? It’d solve a lot of problems.”

“Midnight?” he asked, cocking his head and raising an eyebrow. “What’s happening tonight? Anything important?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. The Red Hoof’s little harlot is sending me out again. But… It’s different tonight. I can feel it. I’m done with her. I’ll find a way to one-up her. Or die trying.”

“Where are you heading, anyway? I could back you up. Still got a little fight in me if I need it.”

“I’m meeting her near the stone fountain down in the park. You could… tag along, if you’d like,” she offered hopefully. Abacus said no guards. She never said anything about a random stranger who happened to be there. “Make sure I stay out of trouble.”

Bolt Buck nodded. “Sure. I’ll keep an eye out around midnight, and try and reach you if I can. Be careful,” he warned her before taking off.

The sun had set early as it always did in the winter, leaving in its wake a chilled night. Amber Shield stared at the neon sign of the bar, looking around the place. It was mercifully less seedy than she had expected, though she still felt somewhat uncomfortable just being there. If Murdoc ever found out… she winced at the thought, strolling inside.

It was a lively place, that was for sure. Ponies - almost all of them mares, Amber noted - were jumping and dancing to the rhythm of the typical club music. She looked around for any sign of Petunia, but the mare was nowhere to be seen. Amber herself began to receive plenty of looks. Probably just usuals checking out the newbie, she thought to herself, sidling up to the counter.

“What’ll it be, sweetheart?” the bartender asked over the music, leaning on the counter and looking at Amber curiously. She was a thick, muscular mare who could’ve probably given most of the guards a run for their money. “Say, you’re new here, aren’tcha? I haven’t seen you before.”

“A friend asked me to meet them here, but it seems they forgot or something… I’ll just have a cider, please. I have work soon, can’t afford to get too crazy.” She smiled nervously at the bartender.

“A friend, huh?” the bartender asked, pouring Amber a large glass of frothy cider. “I know everypony who comes to this joint. Who’s the friend?”

“A quiet mare called Petunia. Saved her from a attack earlier today, some shithead stallion was getting frisky with her. Figured it’d be nice to make a friend around here, y’know?”

The bartender tipped the jug a little too far, spilling cider on the countertop. “Petunia!? So you’re the Guard she wouldn’t shut up about! All your drinks are on the house, honey. We owe you a big one for saving our little flower girl. She’s very well liked in here.”

Amber smiled at her, “Thank you, I should really pay though… I was just doing my job. The poor thing was up against a real jerk, too. Managed to knock me around a fair bit before we brought him in.”

“You made it!” A familiar voice cut across the room. Before she knew it, Amber was caught in a tight hug by Petunia. “I’m so glad! I was afraid you wouldn’t wanna come to a place like this.”

Amber grinned, wheezing a little as she was squeezed tightly. “I’m just glad you remembered. Thanks for inviting me out here, by the way. I haven’t had much of a chance to relax since I arrived in Manehattan…

“The usual, Petunia?”

“Mmhmm! So, you’re not from Manehattan? What brought you here? What do you think of our fair city? I guess you might have a jaded view, being a guard and all… I promise we’re not all bad! Not even all stallions… though the one with you was kinda scary.”

Amber snorted, “Oh, him? He’s a very noble sort, he just likes to make criminals think he’s dangerous. And I really didn’t come here with any assumptions about you guys, to be honest… as for why I came here, I suppose it was to make a name for myself.”

“Oh! I never even got your name before! I completely forgot to ask!”

“It’s…” She hesitated for the briefest of moments. “Amber Glass. Pleased to meet you, Petunia,” she smiled warmly, extending a hoof.

Petunia took the hoof, holding it for a long moment. It’s so coarse... “I’ll just call you Amber. How’s that? Mm no offense but you could really use a hooficure. Tomorrow, maybe!? My treat!”

“That sounds great…” Amber said, turning back to her nearly-empty glass

Petunia cocked her head. “What’s wrong, Amber? You seem distracted. If you don’t wanna be here, it’s okay. I understand. I mean I should’ve asked if you were… well I mean of course you’re not-”

Amber shook her head, “It’s not that, it’s just that I have something big going down at work tonight… honestly, if we could reschedule this for afterwards I’d appreciate it. I’m going to need a chance to unwind after tonight’s shift is over…” Assuming there even is a tomorrow for me…

Petunia’s ears drooped. “But… but… you’re a dayguard! You don’t work nights!”

“It’s not that simple. I’d tell you more but it’s something only a handful of the guard are permitted to know about, and it’s all happening tonight. I swear I’m telling the truth, Petunia.”

“But… but why does such a nice mare like you have to risk herself?” Petunia’s eyes grew wider and mistier, and Amber noticed her bottom lip beginning to tremble.

Amber smiled gently at her. “I risked my life to save yours today, didn’t I? And if my superior officer hadn’t saved me I might have lost it. But, as a Guard, it’s my duty to protect the innocent. And I know that the Red Hoof is involved in all of this. For a chance to foil one of his schemes, and potentially save a lot of lives? I’d say that’s something worth risking my life for.”

Several pairs of eyes darted their way at the mention of the Red Hoof, as well as a few murmurs. “The Red Hoof, eh?” the Bartender cut in, giving the two mares a fresh set of drinks. “He’s been trying to worm his way into this place for years. But I won’t have it.”

“Yup,” Petunia agreed, nodding. “One of his lackeys threatened to burn down my flower business if I didn’t go with him. I told him to try it and see what happens. It’d be a race to see if us or the Mare do Well got to him first.”

“You guys are lucky the Mare do Well would never stand for that. Now there’s a mare!” Amber declared, followed by a series of cheers.

“If we could get her in here?” The bartender smirked. “Every mare in this city would be knocking my doors down.”

Amber raised her glass. “To the Mare do Well, an inspiration to mares across the city!”

“Here, here!” Petunia and the bartender both said, raising their glasses and drinking.

“Hey… Amber?” Petunia looked at the Guard, still seeming as though she were on the verge of tears.

“What is it, Petunia?” Amber asked, setting down her glass.

She reached forward, hugging Amber and giving her a quick peck on the cheek. “Stay safe out there.”

Amber blushed, smiling weakly at her. “Keep my seat warm- I’m coming back once I’m done out there!”

Snow Storm had decided to return home for the evening when the snickering came. She peeked over the side of the building, spotting a triplet of young stallions strolling down the street.

Rinds, she thought, watching them go by. The eldest, Kabosu Rind, scooped up a wad of snow in his magic, throwing it at a random stray cat. Two of them laughed as the cat hissed and bolted away, its tail straight in the air.

Now what are you boys up to…? Snow Storm thought, resisting the urge to confront them right there. They were walking as if they had purpose, and to show herself would throw them off. She couldn’t allow that.

“Come on,” Valen whined, lagging behind, “when’re you gonna tell us what dad wants?”

“For the last time, we find a certain stallion, we get the package and we get out of there.” Kabosu grunted angrily, glaring at his younger brother. “Ask again and you’re staying home next time, shrimp.”

Package, huh? Guess I’ll have to follow- Snow Storm felt a tap on her shoulder. Pick Pocket stood behind her, his expression one of curiosity. “This is a little earlier than I expected…” he whispered. “I’m impressed you managed to pick up the trail yourself.”

“Trail?” she asked, keeping an ear on Pick and an eye on the Rinds. “I didn’t know there was a trail. I just know those boys personally.”

Pick stared at the three of them, watching as they worked their way downtown. “I knew it. The docks were too obvious… we might well discover one of their safehouses tonight.”

“Docks? What about the docks?”

Pick shook his head. “Nothing, it’s just a hunch for now. Hey, this is Market. They must be going to their shop...”

“You there, old timer?” Kabosu demanded, glancing around. As far as he could tell, Market Row was empty save for his brothers. “I’m waiting. And I don’t like to wait.”

“He sent you pipsqueaks?” an indignant voice cut through the darkness. After a moment, the fat poker-playing stallion Snow Storm remembered from a few nights before limped into view. It was clear that he’d taken a rather nasty beating since the last time they had met. No doubt for failing Abacus…

“You boys should stay out of grown up’s affairs,” he suggested nastily. “You have no idea what could happen.”

“It doesn’t look like you know any better,” Kabosu shot back, unlocking the door to his family’s shop. “Please, come in.” Not that the stallion had much choice, as Suma forcefully muscled him inside.

Pick cursed under his breath, “We’ll never hear from out here, but getting in… there’s only the one entrance.”

“Not true,” Snow Storm said, getting up and pointing across the street. “There’s a window on the second floor that leads into their office. They never bother to lock it.”

“You sound like you’ve used it before-” Pick winced, his ear flicking. “Damnit, I hear screaming… I can handle things here, you go check it out. Heroics are more your game anyways.”

“Alright,” she said. “But… if you somehow get Valen by himself, don’t hurt him too badly. He’s just a misguided kid.”

“I’m not planning on hurting any of them. Dumb kids are still kids, and I do have some standards. Besides, violence is for amateurs.” He gave her a wink at that. “If I do my job right they’ll never know I was there, now go, quickly!”

* * *

Kabosu smacked Valen on the back of the head - not for any particular reason, but because it had been his favorite sport since the latter was barely out of diapers. “Go make sure the upstairs is empty,” he demanded. “We’re not taking any chances. The big guy could have somepony waiting for us.”

Valen sighed, heading upstairs in silence. He stared around, not particularly bothered by the idea of his brothers getting caught in whatever horrible scheme they were plotting. Even if he was arrested himself, at least they’d be as miserable as he was.

He shivered, noticing the window was open a crack, and shut it quickly, looking around the room carefully for signs of intruders. I wish I was at home, at least I could talk to Grandpa…

There was a creepy feeling on the back of his neck, as though he were being watched. That’s silly, he thought, giving up his half-hearted search and just reclining on the office chair. Besides, the real reason he was sent up was to be out of the way, which was just fine and dandy with him. He figured he at least had a couple minutes of peace and quiet - as quiet as Kabosu could be, at any rate.

Pick Pocket frowned, silently cursing that the kid had shut the door, blocking his only means of reaching the lower floor. Even with his impressive hearing, the thick walls of the place muffled much of what he could hear.

“...suitca… obbed… excuses…”

Pick sighed quietly, shaking his head. There’s nothing I can take from this. The whole night was a bust. Here’s hoping she’s having more luck...

Valen felt the sensation again, as though a pair of eyes were trained on him. “Is somepony there?” he called out, sitting straight and looking around. All of the shadows seemed to move whenever he looked at them. Possibly taunting him. The old creeping fear he’d had of the dark his whole life was slowly overwhelming him. The shouting match downstairs did nothing to nullify it. This is creepy…

Pick Pocket froze in place, standing perfectly still in the rafters above the colt. You’re kidding me, right? The great Pick Pocket isn’t about to be rumbled by this pitiful excuse for a foal!

“Screw this,” Valen said, getting up at last and heading towards the door. He had begun to feel the walls close in on him, and that was too much. Besides, there was nopony up here with him. Nopony at all.

* * *

Downstairs, Kabosu glared at the pudgy stallion. “You don’t seem to have a suitcase with you. Why’s that?”

“I was robbed at the poker table, alright? That bitch in the suit gave me a shakedown. I had more than enough before she showed up!”

“Excuses!” Kabosu snapped, his horn glowing angrily. “The big guy doesn’t like excuses, does he, Suma?”

“Heheheh, yeah!”

“He also don’t like infighting between his guys, and incase you’ve forgotten, you still ain’t officially a part of the gang. You hurt me, and you’re making a big statement, kids. Remember that.”

“Fine,” Kabosu conceded, easing back. The worst part was the fatso was right, and that pissed him off. “He wants you to try the south side this time. The little gangs there are pushovers - even a jellyfish like you could handle ‘em. Got it?”

The stallion nodded.

“Good. This is your last chance. He knows you’ve been skimming some bits off the top. He doesn’t like that. Now get out of my dad’s shop. You’re stinking it up in here.”

“Oh, and one thing I don’t get… if the Mare do Well’s working for the Red Hoof, why the hell did she beat me up? The Boss never got his money cos’ of her.”

“Even a good dog will bite every now and then. You just gotta beat him to show him who’s boss. She’ll get hers.”

The stallion turned to leave, sighing as he noticed Valen slowly working his way downstairs. “Can I give you brats some advice? That one’s dead weight. Ditch em’ as soon as you can, kids. G’night,” he muttered grumpily, leaving the shop.

Kabosu rounded on Valen, snarling. “What took ya?” He was in the mood to inflict some pain, and that fatass had denied him the chance. Now his sights were squarely on his little brother. “Having a tea party up there?”

“The place was empty,” Valen said, shrugging boredly. “I guess the Mare do Well has better things to do than to spy on us.”

“Or maybe she was there,” Kabosu growled, getting in his brother’s face. The little guy had been a huge pain in his ass the last few weeks, and he was getting tired of it. Especially when Valen mouthed back. “And you’re just getting friendly with her. Is that it?”

At this, Valen actually laughed. “You think the Mare do Well would waste her time with me? Please. If she was here she’d have dropped in and interrogated us by now. Or summoned the guard to burst in or something… I’m the last pony she’d consider useful.”

“Y’know,” Kabosu sneered, “you may be right for once. Nopony would ever waste their time with you. Now get home - me and Suma have other business to take care of.”

Valen nodded and left without another word, glad to be rid of his brothers for a few hours. If he was lucky, dad would be passed-out drunk and he could just crawl into bed unnoticed. He liked being unnoticed.

“Hope your time was better spent than mine,” Snow Storm grumbled, perching next to Pick Pocket. “Stupid mare managed to nearly fall out of her own window. So who gets to save her from going splat? Me.”

“Well, I can tell you these kids are in way over their heads,” Pick Pocket said, shrugging. “Aside from that? Really nothing you don’t already know. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fi- look.” She pointed down at a pair of strolling stallions. “Only two of them. Looks like Suma and Kabosu. I’ve seen this before - there’s no need to tail them now. They’re just going to get themselves wasted. They never invite Valen for that, of course.”

“Hmm… I wonder if they’re dumb enough to fall for me pretending to be one of the Red Hoof’s guys?” Pick Pocket grinned. “Might be able to make some lemonade with tonight after all…”

“Go do what you have to. I’m going to try and make a new friend.”

* * *

Valen Rind started as the Mare do Well landed in front of him, looking menacing in the moonlight.

“Hello there,” she said gently, feeling pity at the way he recoiled from her. This’d be so much easier if I could show him my face. I must look frightening.

Valen squeaked, backing away until he crashed into a pair of trashcans in an alleyway. “W-w-what do you w-want?” he asked timidly.

“I just want to talk, is all.” She took a tentative step forward, ready to back off if he looked like he was about to bolt. “I won’t hurt you. You don’t deserve it.”

“Talk? About what?” he asked, his eyes darting about. It was clear he was looking for an exit route, desperate to get away from her. Oh, he’d heard the stories about her, alright. How she could break a pony in two with no effort. How she mercilessly hunted her enemies.

“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” she said. Longer than you could know. “It’s not fair, what your brothers do to you. How they abuse and berate you at every opportunity. Family shouldn’t do that to one another.”

“Y-you don’t know anything about me!” he said, becoming defensive. He raised a trashcan lid up to her like a shield. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

You’re using the wrong tactic here. Think about it from his perspective. You swoop in and try turning him against his siblings, but he might be the only Rind kid with any semblance of loyalty to them.

“That’s fine,” she said calmly, sitting on her haunches. Just like working with a frightened animal. “You don’t have to talk to me. But you should talk to your grandpa. You… do like him, don’t you?”

“Y-yeah, I do… but why are you talking to me? I don’t understand…”

“To be honest? I’m a friend of Snow Storm’s. And she’s worried about you. She knows you’re not like your brothers.” The Mare do Well paused for a moment. “She wants to help you, but she doesn’t know how. Especially with her own family troubles.”

“Snow Storm? But why would she… listen, my brothers are responsible for themselves. I don’t want anything to do with them, but if I don’t go along with their stupid schemes…” He shuddered, not wanting to think of what they’d do to him. It was bad enough being their ‘friendly’ punching bag. If he went against them? It was unthinkable.

“Then why don’t you leave? Run away?”

“I’d have nowhere to go, nowhere they wouldn’t find me…”

“You and Julius could both go. Look, kid, a lot of things are going to happen soon. I know your family is involved with the Red Hoof somehow. They’re going down, and I’d hate to see you go with them.”

“But where? This city’s all I’ve ever known. I can’t just abandon it, can I?”

“Once I find the Orange family, you could go to them. Snow will vouch for you. Work their grove, get some bits, get your own place. You’d be free.”

“Yeah… with most of my family behind bars. I don’t understand why they went so wrong, Mare do Well. Why does it have to be like this?”

“If I could answer that, I could fix a lot of things. Stick with your grandpa - he’ll keep you safe and straight.”

“I w-will. I gotta go,” he said quietly, turning and running off in the direction of his house.

Snow Storm sighed, pulling off her mask and letting the air cool her face down. I think I just made another friend, she mused, sneaking into an alleyway to change into her normal clothes. She gave the kid a lot to think about, at least. That was good. The more friends she could make, the better her position would be. There was nothing left to do but go home.

Now you just have to survive tonight.

Author's Note

Fun fact: Every Rind name is a type of citrus fruit. Suma, Valen, Kabosu. Unmentioned as of yet is their father, Seville.

I'm clever as hell.

Chapter Six

Snow Storm woke up an hour before midnight. She shimmied out of bed, worming her way out of Figaro’s tight, cuddling grasp. He mumbled quietly as she slipped away, rolling over and covering his face with a paw.

Stay asleep, pup, the mare thought, giving him one last looks before slinking to her dresser. Silver moonlight flooded her room, amplified by an even layer of snow, giving her ample sight in the dark. She pulled a drawer open silently, stuffing her Mare do Well suit into a saddlebag. Pausing for a moment, the gears in her mind turning, she added the smoke bombs given to her by Pick Pocket.

I make my move tonight, she thought, feeling a ball of lead build up in her belly. If what Pick had said was true, then everything would come to a head at wherever Abacus was sending her. It was going to be the first step in Abacus' betrayal of the Red Hoof. And here I am in the crossfire. No, she was more than that. She was probably the deciding factor of who would win the upcoming civil war.

Me. I’ll win. She slipped into a reasonably warm coat and snuck across the room, careful to not let the door shut too loudly as she slipped out and down the stairs, where the rest of the manor was just as dark and cold.

It was, however, not empty.

“Deorsa?” she called out in something that was barely above a whisper. “Are you here?”

“Yes ma'am,” Deorsa said quietly, appearing from the main room. “What do you need?”

“I need you to take care of the place. I don’t know if I'm coming back from this one.”

The Fulake offered her a smile. "We both know you will."

"I'm scared," she admitted, biting her lip. "Everything changes tonight, for better or worse. What if I screw up? What if it all goes wrong?"

“You probably asked the same when you fought Bloodshot, right? But against all odds you did it anyway… and you weren’t alone. That night it was as if the whole city was on your side… as Snow Storm you can be defeated. But as the Mare do Well, as what she represents? You can’t. Now get out there and teach that scumbag and his cronies who’s boss!”

“...Swear to me you’ll make sure Figaro is safe, Deorsa. Leave the city if you have to. Enough people have suffered because of my actions…”

Deorsa nodded solemnly. “I swear on my life, no harm will come to Figaro… good luck out there.”

“Luck won’t have anything to do with it,” she muttered gravely, walking towards the main door.

Primrose stood outside Bolt Bucks apartment, hoof hanging in the air, torn between knocking and simply running away. She had just enough money left to take a train to Appleloosa and start over, and the temptation had been at the back of her mind for the last few months. After all, I’ve burnt all my bridges here. Maybe I could start over…

But the mare knew that there were still things she needed to do before she could indulge her cowardice. She gulped, and finally summoned the nerve to knock.

“B-Buck?” she said quietly, secretly hoping he wouldn’t answer. “It’s me.”

The door opened a crack, and Bolt Buck peeked out. “What is it?” he asked, eyeing her warily. “What’re you doing back here?”

“I need to tell her I’m sorry, and I don’t think she’ll even speak to me unless you’re around. She trusts you, after all…”

Bolt Buck looked at her for a moment, sighed, then unlatched his door. “Come in,” he said, swinging the door open for Primrose. “Make it quick. I was just on my way to her, myself.”

“All of this is my fault, Buck. I know that. I just… if I hadn’t done something, you’d be dead by now. And don’t tell me that would be better, like you don’t matter. You’ve become valuable to her as an ally, and you’ve worked so hard to turn things around… tell me I’m selfish or stupid, but don’t tell me you don’t matter.”

“I could have handled myself, even against the Red Hoof. Maybe you thought she could, too. But that doesn’t excuse what you did. You sold her down the river for a two-bit chump!”

“If I’d lost you…” Prim sighed sadly. “It doesn’t matter now. I just need to give her my apology, say my goodbyes and get out of your lives forever. Will you please help me one last time?”

“Tomorrow, I will.” Bolt Buck clasped his saddlebags shut. “Tonight would be too dangerous.”

“...Huh?” she raised an eyebrow, “ What’s going on tonight?”

“If I’m right, it’s the beginning of the end of the Red Hoof.”

“Wait… Snowy’s going out there to end the Red Hoof?!” Prim gasped, eyes widening at the thought. “Buck, if I don’t apologize tonight I might not get another chance! She’s about to go up against the biggest crimelord in the city. Alone!”

“I have no idea what will happen,” Bolt Buck said, shrugging his saddlebags into a better position. “But I know she won’t be alone. I’ll be there with her, for good or ill.”

“Buck, I have to go out there. Even if she won’t accept my apology, I need to give it while I can… what if she dies tonight? It’ll be all my fault. The city’s one hope, dead because of me…”

“No,” he said shortly. “Maybe think before you act for once. It’d get you - and others - into a lot less trouble.”

“Buck…” she began before stopping herself. “Fine. I can wait one more night… it’s not like they have another Bloodshot out there, anyway.”

Prim turned, heading towards the door before pausing for a moment.

“I never wanted to hurt her, or you. I did what I did because I loved you... and I still do. Goodbye, Bolt Buck.”

“I’m asking you for your sake - don’t follow me.”

Prim sighed, walking away without a response.

Guess I’ll have to let you down again, Bolt Buck…

Flyntt stared in the mirror, his expression grim. His armour glinted in the moonlight, as if beckoning him. Wonder if she ever looks at her armor like it’s calling to her… he mused with a small grin. He shook his head, trying to focus on the task at hand. For some reason the night ahead held a deep sense of foreboding for the Fulake, though he couldn’t quite explain why.

“Sorry that I’m late,” he muttered quietly as he approached the barracks, Aella pacing around outside looking frustrated.

“I’m surprised you’re even here,” she muttered grumpily.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Flyntt frowned. It was the conversation he had been waiting to hear for months, though mercifully not from the mare in front of him.

“Every single night you seem less and less interested in being here.”

“Spite, Aella. I’m still here to spite that pathetic loser I once called my partner, and that equally pathetic unicorn that’s acting all high and mighty no matter how many times I apologize. They expect me to give up, because to them that’s all I ever do- fail and give in,” he spat, “But not tonight. Not when the Mare do Well is about to put everything on the line for a city that doesn’t even trust her anymore. That’s why.”

“So you really believe what Pelleas told Amber?”

“What I believe is that Pel has gone nuts, and that he was probably trying to get her out there alone so he could rough her up with a few new friends of his… he’s fallen even farther than I thought. If I catch him out here tonight, I’m given him the whoopin’ his daddy shoulda done a long time ago,protocol be damned.”

“You know we have to be careful. We can’t just rush in.”

“I’m not planning to. I plan on following orders just long enough so that when I catch that little punk alone I’ll get a mild reprimand at best… you really think she could bring him down tonight?”

“If he’s even there. It could all be a setup by Pel.”

“Oh, it’s a setup alright, but he could never pull the strings. Kid was always just talk… anyway, we should head out there. If we arrive early enough Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass won’t have any reason to call me out,” he grinned at her.

“You know, one of these days I’m going to get you both in the same room and see what happens.”

Flyntt’s grinned widened, “You just wanna see if we start making out.” To his amusement that actually managed to get a small smile out of her.

“-Lieutenants, the Captain is requesting you head to the site of the meeting as soon as possible,” one of the cadets interrupted.

“Thank you, Cadet,” Aella said. “Carry on.”

Snow Storm sat on the bench, huddling to herself to stay warm. I bet she’s making me wait on purpose, she thought, looking up at the midnight sky. The moon could barely be seen behind a layer of clouds. Bitch is going to make me freeze to death.

“You are to head to the warehouse by the docks,” Abacus’ cold voice could be heard from behind her. “That is all.”

Snow Storm bit her cheek to keep her teeth from chattering - she wouldn’t afford Abacus even that victory. “S-so nice of you to s-s-show up,” she said. “Thought I was going to wait here forever.”

“Are you talking back to me?” Abacus’ voice took on a new type of instability. “Because if you are I’ll cut the tongue from your mouth. Don’t you ever forget who you’re talking to, Snow Storm. Or I just might forget about my orders not to harm your parents…”

She looked quickly at Abacus after that remark, and fought valiantly to suppress a tight grin when she noticed a terrible swelling on the pegasus’ face. “Ohh, nice black eye you’ve got there. It suits you,” she said. Are you crazy!? Don’t provoke her! “Did the big guy give it to you?”

Abacus walked over to her, her face uncomfortably close, her good eye twitching. She slapped her with surprising force, snarling. “You dare talk back to your better? I should ask you which Orange you’d want me to gut first... and then do it in front of your eyes. You talk back again, and I will.”

“Did he give it to you,” she said, wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth, “because of what happened the other night?” This time she couldn’t help but grin. “Or because you wouldn’t bend down and suck his-”

Before she knew what was happening, Snow Storm felt a numbness in the same hoof she had taken an arrow to just months before, the cold steel of a dagger pressing into her still-recovering flesh. “You asked for this,” Abacus hissed.

Snow Storm gritted her teeth against the new pain, but refused to make a sound. “If you’re... going to do something, then do it,” she demanded, glaring at Abacus and trying hard not to give in to the agony. “Because I’m done with your games. I’ll go along this one last time, and then I’m coming for you.”

Abacus scowled at her, any lingering trace of her deeply psychotic glee now gone. “You come for me, and your family dies, Mare do Well.” She turned away, disappearing in a flash of light.

Snow Storm bit her lip for a moment longer, pawed and clutched at the wound, and cried out as the pain settled into her again, almost swooning her into a faint. She staggered to the nearest alleyway - a place of privacy where she could slip into the Mare do Well suit unnoticed. The magic of the suit would dull her pain, not to mention warm her up.

“Snowy!”

Bolt Buck rushed over to her, Prim not far behind, wincing as he looked at the wound. “It’s shallow, but… aww hell, this is your bad leg, isn’t it?”

“What… is she doing here?” she asked Bolt Buck directly, limping towards the mouth of the alley. She took a bad step and stumbled, and was spared a fall only by Bolt Buck’s immediate catch.

“She wanted to tag along… we need to get that leg elevated. The only way you’ll be able to fight tonight is if you can move through the pain, and that’ll mean…” he went quiet. After a moment he rummaged through his backpack, taking out a small vial of a liquid Snow Storm recognized immediately.

“I know it’s a bad solution, but desperate times call for desperate measures,” he began, noting her expression, “and if they’re gonna cheat, so should you. This isn’t the time to let your heroics get in the way of doing what needs to be done.”

“No,” she growled, eyeing the vial with utter contempt. “All I need is to get into the suit.”

“...Okay. But you take it with you just in case, okay? She’s gonna sic em’ all on you at once tonight. If you get overwhelmed, take it.”

She leaned against the brick wall, dumping out the contents of her own saddlebags and grabbing the Mare do Well suit. She looked over at Bolt Buck awkwardly, blushing a bit. “Do you mind?” she asked a little more forcefully than she intended. “I need to change.”

Bolt Buck blushed, turning away and giving her some privacy.

“That’s better,” she said after a moment, slipping the mask down over her face. The magical effects were immediate - she warmed up comfortably, and an ethereal tingling on her left shoulder told her the suit’s self-repairing spell was working itself on her wound. “Alicorn magic is the best thing,” she said, flexing her leg. It was still stiff and sore, but it was becoming functional again. That was all she needed.

“We’ll follow you at a distance. Should we meet up on the roof?”

“Yes,” she said, giving it a moment’s thought. “It’d give them a nice surprise, wouldn’t it? But are you sure it’s a good idea bringing her along?”

“She wants to apologize,” Bolt Buck shrugged. “After this, she’ll leave the city if you want.”

“Fine,” Snow Storm said coldly. “But make sure she stays out of the way.”

Bolt Buck turned to Primrose as Snow Storm took off into the night. “You don’t need to do this, you know. She’d be just as happy if you just skipped town forever.”

“No,” Primrose said. “I need to make everything right. No matter what it takes.”

“ Make everything right? You’ll never do that, Prim. She won’t forgive you, either. Some mistakes are just too big…”

“Well she sure as hell seems to have forgiven you!” Primrose snapped, turning and storming off.

“Ladies and Gentlecolts, we have ourselves a situation.” Captain Leaf paced around the meeting room, chewing on his lip. The Nightguard Lieutenants, as well as Murdoc and Amber Shield, listened intently. “It has been brought to my attention that an ex-comrade of ours has solicited the help of a Guard. Unofficially. This is significant, not only because one of our own has given us a black mark, but also because it has to do with, as I understand it, an attack on the Red Hoof himself.”

Flyntt squirmed nervously from the back of the group, almost instinctively knowing exactly who the traitor was. Not like it’s a shock or anything. Who else could it be? Pel, you idiot…

“The Cadet in question,” Leaf continued, “has risked much by exposing this information. Therefore, it is imperative that we not reveal ourselves until absolutely necessary. We all know how the Red Hoof feels about us. That means that only a small force will be allowed in on this operation.”

At this, Flyntt stepped forward. “Permission to volunteer, Sir?”

Captain Leaf raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure you won’t be at a conflict of interest? I don’t believe it’s any secret who the traitor is.” There was a murmur at this.

“Be that as it may, Sir, I’m at least partially responsible for the Cadet being approached by this traitor. If they had chosen to simply go along with his request there’s a good chance it would have ended in tragedy… please. Allow me a chance to clean up this mess.”

“Fine” Leaf conceded. “But Lieutenant Boreas will be accompanying you. As well as Murdoc; it’s his cadet who’s acting as the bait, after all. If she so chooses?” The Captain turned to Amber, locking eyes with her. “Understand that you do not have to do this. We could simply storm the target site, as risky as it would be.”

Amber shook her head. “This is my fight too. I have a personal stake in this myself, and I’d like to be a part of this mission. I won’t let you down.”

“Very well. Cadet Shield will give some sort of signal when you think it’s appropriate, and Lieutenant Flyntt’s squad will do the rest. Lieutenants, prepare yourselves. The rest of you are dismissed. And gentlecolts? Good luck out there. I want a full report of a successful mission tomorrow.”

“Sir, are you sure this is our fight? Surely the Night Guard could handle whatever ambush Pelleas has planned…” Amber asked her superior officer, seeming more reluctant to take part in the raid than usual.

“I have to be here,” Murdoc said. “You’re my cadet, after all. I can’t let you go into traps without help.”

“What if it isn’t a trap? What if he really wants to take down the Red Hoof as badly as we do?” Amber asked, not even believing the words herself.

“If he does, why did he lie about the Mare do Well?”

“We have no proof that she isn’t working for him, Sir. In fact, recent reports have stated that she’s been avoiding guards and attacking criminals without provocation... “ Amber’s voiced trailed off. Who can I trust here? Oh, Pel… could you really be this big an idiot?

“Whatever she does, she has her reasons,” Murdoc said curtly. His vehement defending of the Mare do Well had begun to take its toll on him - but he knew she was the right way to go. Stay out of trouble, kid, he thought with some affection.

Amber gulped as they approached the warehouse Captain Leaf and the others had spoken of. The other guards were already hidden out of sight, and she turned to Murdoc silently, unsure of where they were supposed to hide themselves.

“Don’t worry. Nothing will happen to you. Just make sure Pelleas doesn’t suspect a thing. As far as he knows, you came alone.”

Amber nodded solemnly, taking a deep breath to compose herself before heading towards the warehouse.

The warehouse Abacus indicated loomed overhead. It stood as monument to everything that’s happened so far - the apex of the city, even. She felt an electricity in the air. Everything was going to change as soon as she set foot in that building, no matter what. The question was where she was going to stand when it did.

They could be in there, you know. Abacus is so unpredictable, she could have them dangling over a vat of acid or something… you know she’d do it just to watch you squirm. Sis, just remember… they’re first priority. Beating the stuffing out of that monster comes second.

It was hard to tell whether the voice of reason in her head was her brother or her own, but the sentiment was the same. The overwhelming urge to break that cold blooded bitch and leaving her outside the warehouse as a message to the Red Hoof was almost overpowering to her. To give into such a primal urge would be gratifying.

It’s way too quiet, her other voice told her. It was her tactical voice, the one she had honed as she learned to fight. It identified strengths and weaknesses, exploits she could use. It saw everything in a cold, calculating way. And as far as it could tell, there was nopony patrolling the outside of the warehouse. It’s not right. Something’s… off, it told her, ringing a warning bell in the back of her head. That other facility had been protected, even if it was light. But that had been a simple building which sought not to bring attention to itself. This, on the other hoof, was a warehouse full of valuable goods. Nopony would find it suspicious if even an army sat outside of it.

But there was no army. There was no one at all out there. And that made Snow Storm very uncomfortable.

You know what this is, Sis. But that’s never stopped you before.

She cracked a side door open, expecting an alarm to start blaring. The warehouse was pitch black, and quiet as the night. Every hoofstep echoed across the room, sending a slight chill down the mare’s spine. The silence was so complete that when the sound of tentative hoofsteps could be heard from the other side of the building, it was almost a relief. Almost.

Snow Storm turned, squinting through the dark. She could make out the silhouette of a mare attempting to slip into the place as though she belonged there. Just the one? And she seems like she doesn’t want to be here…

Friend? Or foe? She would have to find out sooner or later. Best to make it sooner.

Without another thought, she approached the mare, hoof raised to strike, pinning her to the wall with a quick, quiet motion.

“Hey! Get offa me!”

“...Huh? What’s Murdoc’s new partner doing out here?” Snow Storm whispered in a confused hiss, letting the mare go. “You’re in way over your head if you think you know what’s about to go down here.”

“I’m not alone, Mare do Well. And what, were you planning on slipping by her guards and breaking her neck?” Amber Shield snorted in response. “Even you couldn’t take them all. There’s a hundred thugs in here if there’s one… and we have reason to believe they’re armed, too.”

“Strange,” Snow Storm muttered quietly. “I haven’t seen a single one yet.”

“...That was the point,” a cold voice sliced through the silence from above them. The sound of several dozen stallions working their way in through both doors to the building, blocking off all hope of escape for the mares. Abacus looked down at the two. Bright spotlights came on, shining down on Amber Shield and the Mare do Well, revealing two rows of crossbows nocked and ready to fire.

Abacus leered down from the second floor, applauding them slowly, the sick grin on her face widening with every second.

Lieutenant Murdoc stood next to Flyntt, suppressing the urge to shiver in the cold night. He was staring straight ahead, as though he had been turned to stone. An overwhelming sense of deja vu pounded in the back of his head; he wondered vaguely if Flyntt felt the same way.

“It’s almost like back then,” he said quietly, breaking the still winter night.

“...You weren’t there,” Flyntt replied coldly. “Daddy wouldn’t let you go. He threw a couple bats out into the firing line instead.”

“It wasn’t my shift,” Murdoc said defensively, not daring to believe that it had all been more than a horrific mistake. Father wouldn’t go that far...

“...It wasn’t Cyrus’ either. But I suppose he never told you that, did he? You know how much he loved getting out into the field. Took every bit of overtime he could get...”

“Then why were you with him?” Murdoc asked, his tone almost accusing.

“I was told to go. It was just me and him… I was hardly complaining. But when I asked for additional backup your old man said two guards were plenty.”

“My father may have been a bigot but he would never purposely endanger the life of another Guard!” Bullshit. You know it’s bullshit. He hated the bats. He hated how you hung out with them.

Flyntt shrugged, turning to him at last. “I can’t tell you whether he really believed that or not. Maybe if I had been able to do my goddamn job properly he would’ve been right. Fact is, I failed. All I have left are my regrets.”

“Are you two ladies going to kiss and make up yet?” Lieutenant Boreas asked, a wicked lopsided grin on his face. “Because I forgot my camera.”

Flyntt turned to Boreas, started. “Huh, didn’t see you. Any of your guys spot any movement to or from the warehouse?” he asked, nodding towards a pair of Fulake that circled the building from far above, almost invisible to anyone with less impressive night vision than another Fulake.

“Not a thing,” he replied. “For all we know, it’s abandoned.”

“It’s too dark and quiet…” Murdoc muttered, more to himself than the Fulake next to him. “We should have heard something by now. I should’ve gone in with her.”

“...Take it from me. It’s better to regret the things you did do than the things you didn’t.”

“Look, the lights!” Murdoc pointed. His heart began to race. “It seems as good a sign as any. Wouldn’t you agree, Lieutenant?”

Flyntt put a hoof on Murdoc’s shoulder for a moment. “If I fail again, at least I was trying this time… seeya,” he said, before rushing into the building in his usual reckless way.

“Guards, move in!” Murdoc commanded, dropping all subtlety as he led the charge behind Flyntt’s wake.

“... Who is that!?” Abacus asked, her voice rising dangerously as she spotted the figure next to the Mare do Well. “Is that a Guard!? I said no Guards!” A smack echoed across the warehouse; Amber squinted through the lights, seeing Pelleas recoil from Abacus’ slap.

“Was this your doing, bat!?” Abacus snarled, bearing down on the Fulake.

“N-no! I don’t even know her, there must have been a guard working undercover somewhere in your ranks…”

“That’s a lie!” Amber shouted, blinking the last of the spots away from her eyes. Finally everything was coming into focus… too much, in fact. “He told me to come here!”

“You… worthless... ungrateful… traitor!” Abacus screamed, smacking him after each word. Pelleas winced, shaking his head as he was knocked back towards the railings over which they stood. He took a hard swing, the frustration of the past few months channeled in his blow, hitting her squarely on the face and breaking her nose. Abacus shrieked in pain and fury, grabbing Pelleas and throwing him over the banister, his wings the only thing keeping him from breaking his neck on the cold stone floor below.

“Pel…” Amber shook her head, refusing to let the tears come. She turned to the Mare do Well, snarling. “Let’s end them, here and now!”

“Congratulations,” Abacus growled. Her nostrils flared unevenly, gushing blood as she glared down at the group. “My night is officially ruined! Kill all three of them. I don’t care anymore.”

There was an echo of clicks as Abacus’ goons settled their crossbows. Amber gritted her teeth, her horn glowing brightly as she dug her hooves into the ground, a bubble enveloping herself, the Mare do Well, and Pelleas as the first volley of bolts came their way. “This won’t hold for long, I hope one of you has a plan!”

“Sounds like trouble down there,” Bolt Buck said, wishing this damned place had a skylight he could see through.

Prim looked away from Buck, staring out across the city. “It’s so beautiful at night. I bet it’s nothing special to a pegasus, though.” she laughed weakly.

“Buck, do you ever wish things had been different?” she asked suddenly.

“Of course I do,” he said. “Maybe if I’d’ve been able to talk Facade out of trying to impress the Red Hoof, things would’ve been different.”

“We’d never have met. But then, maybe that’d be for the best…” she sighed, staring out at the stars.

“We’ve all changed so much. You and Snowy for the better, but me? I guess I lost a lot more than her trust that night…”

Prim turned towards him at last. “I was going to ask you, y’know. Had a ring ready and everything. Just… just so you know it was special to me,” she smiled weakly at him, wiping away a tear.

“Maybe there’s a chance we can still work something out,” Bolt Buck said, trying to sort through the multiple emotions running through him at that moment. “After all of this is over. But you’d have to swear to never do what you did again, no matter how bad any situation looks.”

Prim smiled at him. “I promise. Now let’s say our goodbyes and get out of this dump.”

The Mare do Well fumbled through her belongings, smiling as she found the smoke bombs, pulling the pin on one and turning away, “Hold your breath, both of you!”

Within seconds a thick plume of smoke snaked it’s way around the three, quickly filling the bottom floor of the warehouse. The smoke rose slowly as hundreds of bolts missed their mark, the others bouncing off of Amber’s shield.

The flurry of bolts stopped as the large shipping door blew open, flooding the warehouse with armored Fulake.

“Amber!?” Murdoc called out, searching quickly around the floor. A thick wall of smoke was expanding out from the center of the room. Circling it was dozens of ponies, all armed with crossbows. “Amber?! Where are you!?”

“Sir!” Amber’s voice rose above the commotion, the dull hum of her shield just barely audible through the chaos. “I can’t hold out for much longer… the Mare do Well is upstairs, and Pelleas is with her- please, go to them!”

“I’m the one who gives the orders, Cadet!” he said, ducking between crates and making his way towards her. His horn glowed, and he supplemented her shield with his own. Mass confusion ensued as Fulake all tackled into the various thugs, pinning them down and removing their weapons. “You said Pelleas is upstairs?”

“Yes sir… he really did betray us all,” Amber frowned, closing her eyes and focusing on her shield, “Flyntt headed up there as soon as I told him…”

“What about the Red Hoof?” Murdoc flinched as a bolt came his way, but it simply splintered as soon as it hit his barrier. “Was he ever here?”

“I never saw him, but his second in command is upstairs, I think they headed to the roof… she’s a pegasus Sir. If we don’t stop her here and now she’ll be gone by the time this is over...”

“Don’t worry,” he told her. She noticed he was shaking slightly. “The Mare do Well can handle her.”

* * *

As Snow Storm ascended the steps to the roof, the cold white moon hung lazily in the sky above them, painting a gentle spotlight in the scene below. At long last, the mare that had given her the worst week of her life was within her grasp, her strings cast aside. There was nothing left to do but get her answers… and her justice.

“You really think you’ve won, don’t you?” Abacus grinned, her eyes now full of unbridled madness as she rose a crossbow, aiming it squarely at the mare. “You think you’ll get me to tell you where they are, and rescue them. Have yourself a happy ending after all your struggles? How adorable.”

“Maybe not,” Snow Storm said, her voice as cold as the night. “But I’m going to enjoy running my hoof into your twisted face. I might not even hold back.”

"Is that so, Mare do Well? Well if you aren’t going to hold back, then neither shall I!” The crossbow fired, sending its deadly bolt straight at Snow Storm..

For an instant, time seemed to slow down, almost stop entirely. From far away, Primrose screamed and threw herself in the way of the projectile. She could feel it sink its fatal head into her side, spreading its poison throughout her system. She crumpled into a heap, groaning weakly and gasping for air that began to burn her lungs.

“Snowy… I’m sorry…” Primrose whispered weakly, blood pooling in her mouth.

“Primrose!” Snow Storm blurted out, aghast. Her eyes shot up at Abacus, and before the pegasus knew it, the Mare do Well was charging straight at her.

Abacus took the sky, cackling madly. “Oh this is simply beautiful! I’m almost glad I missed! I’ve hurt you deeper than I thought I could, haven’t I? Remember this night, Mare do- no. Snow Storm. Remember the night your traitor friend finally did something right!”

“Get down here!” Snow Storm roared, stomping her feet and snorting. Just a little lower, you bitch.

“What’s the matter? Can’t catch me? Too bad those rags can’t make you fly, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll see me again. Until next time, my dear. Ta-ta for now!” She turned and flew off into the night, laughing herself into hysterics.

Snow Storm grabbed the crossbow, notching a bolt almost automatically, the blood pounding in her ears as she slowly took aim. The voices that had guided her up until this point were silent. She knew this had to be her choice alone.

But as she had the mare in her sights, her forehoof on the trigger, she hesitated for just a fraction of a second. I can’t do it, she thought before she let her rage override her conscience, sending a bolt flying out into the darkness. The gloating pegasus screamed, but did not fall, staggering somewhat in midair as she continued her now-shaky flight away from them.

Snow Storm gradually turned to the pair behind her, the red mist fading as she began to regain her composure. Prim lay in a sad little heap, her eyes closed forever. Without even realizing it, tears began to fall, making it hard to see through the mask.

Buck turned to her, tears in his eyes as well. “Snowy… I can’t… let’s… let’s just take her somewhere else. She needs a decent burial, at least…” Buck began before breaking down entirely, sobbing loudly. “I can’t…oh Prim...”

Snow Storm knelt beside Primrose’s lifeless body as several Guards came out onto the rooftop to secure the scene. “You were such a fool,” she muttered affectionately. “You were way in over your head, girl. I… forgive you. Hey, we’ve got wounded here!” She waved the Guard over, stepping back as they took care of the dirty business.

And though the roof was full of guards clearing out the situation, she felt completely alone. For the first time since she had taken up the cape and cowl, Snow Storm felt a distant echo of that painful night from so long ago. Once again the Red Hoof had proven just how powerless she really was.

No more.

“Did you say something?” Bolt Buck asked, sidling up to the Mare do Well as she gazed blankly out over the sea.

“I said no more. No more bloodshed, no more being weak. I’ll scour this entire city, and I’ll find the Red Hoof. And then I’ll… I’ll ki… Look at me, I can’t even say it.”

“...I’ll kill him. I’ll tear him limb from goddamn limb and put his head on a fucking spike!”

“And throw away the second chance I helped you get? I couldn’t let you.”

“But... but Prim…” He let out a sob, stomping the ground. “I… I can’t. It hurts… I want to do something!”

“You let me handle the heavy lifting,” she said, patting him on the shoulder while the Guard took Primrose away. “Whatever happens, he’ll be finished.”

Buck slowly picked himself up, walking down from the roof. Snowy wondered to herself if he had felt what she had, all those years ago, but it was a fleeting thought. All she wanted was to go home and forget that night.

But I know, she stared up at the moon, pale in the sky. The things we want to forget the most are the things we never do.

Epilogue

The Manehattan train station was brimming with life in the early morning. Ponies stood clear as the great steam engine came in, stopping as smoothly as it had hundreds of times over. The passenger car doors opened, spilling out visitors and commuters alike. One car had been dedicated to a large group of fresh, young Guards ready and eager to serve Manehattan.

Among those disembarking was a lanky pegasus. She followed the flow of the crowd, barely paying attention to them. Her focus was on the city itself - it had been years since she last stepped foot in this cesspool, and she wasn’t particularly eager to be back.

“This place still stinks,” she muttered out loud, moving seamlessly between the crowd and into downtown, where her brother awaited.

* * *

Bolt Buck and Snow Storm stood by a humble gravestone just three days later. The sun shone obstinately, the sky almost cloudless as the two stood there, unable to think of what to say.

“...Who do I remember, Bolt Buck?” Snow Storm asked at last. “The mare that was my only friend since I was six, or the mare that betrayed me, the mare that ruined my life? Who was the real Primrose?”

“Both,” he said after a moment of silence. “Remember her for the good and the bad.”

“No, not bad… just dumb.” She turned to him. “I hope you’re planning on staying in Manehattan, after all.”

“I am,” he said, giving her a cheeky grin. “Because I think I want to become a weather pegasus. This winter’s been too cold for my liking.”

“A weather pony, huh?” she smiled back. “Just don’t let it rain when I come to visit and you’ll be alright in my book…”

Snow Storm swallowed the lump in her throat, laying roses by the grave and turning to leave. Something told her that she’d have to make a lot of visits in the years to come.

Bolt Buck shuddered suddenly. “Eugh, I just had a bad feeling come over me. You ever get that?”

Snow Storm turned towards the city, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach. Despite the sunny skies, it felt as though there was something dangerous on the horizon. More dangerous even than Bloodshot.

Ridiculous. It’ll pass in a moment, she thought, dismissing the feeling altogether.

“I’m going home, Buck. I’ll come back next week… right now I need some time alone.”

* * *

Meanwhile, on the other side of the cemetery, a pair of guards were paying their respects at a very worn gravestone. Flyntt sighed, turning to his fellow Lieutenant.

“Murdoc, I’ve said this a lot over the years, but this’ll be the very last time. You can take it or leave it,” he began, staring solemnly at the faded headstone.

“I’m sorry. For what I failed to prevent, and for what regrets I left us with. For Cyrus, for you… for Aella.”

Murdoc shook his head. “No. It’s time I accept the truth. Father set Cyrus - and you - up. I could never believe any Guard could be so corrupt, let alone my own blood.”

“...You take damn good care of that Shield girl, Murdoc. Cyrus ain’t gonna forgive us if we both let our cadets down...now how about we grab a quick round before your shift starts?” he offered hopefully.

“Might as well,” Murdoc said. “It’s only going to get harder from here. We have the Red Hoof’s very own second in command behind bars. He’s not going to be happy.”

“And Pelleas, too… between you and me? I think the kid’s snapped. At this rate the cell he’ll be seeing himself inside will be padded.”

“Just take better care of whoever you’re paired up with next,” Murdoc warned, “After all, we can’t make excuses for all your mistakes.”

“So you’re really going to hang up your armor for good?” Flyntt asked, walking alongside Aella as they patrolled the streets together for the last time. “Why?”

“I’ve been wanting to for a long time, really…” she said, barely paying attention to her surroundings. “Everypony comes to me like some sort of mother-figure or counselor. I guess it’s just time I start fulfilling that duty full-time.”

“I’m gonna miss you. It was an honour,” he said. It was the first time he had ever referred to his position as anything but a headache. “I hope things go well for you.”

“Now now, there’s no need to get sentimental. You’ll still see me around the Barracks - I’ll just have my own cozy little office.”

“And I’ll have a new cadet to bring with me. Captain Leaf finally issued me one, after the warehouse raid he felt we needed more new recruits than ever… this could just be the beginning, y’know.”

“Could you handle another one?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“I couldn’t handle the first, but an order’s an order. Besides… I won’t make the same mistakes twice.”

“Don’t start treating him like the next Pelleas,” she warned, glaring sideways at him. “You hold onto grudges like a dog with a bone. Don’t treat him unfairly.”

“He’ll get his chance. I’m meeting him this afternoon, actually. They’re sending in the new recruits to meet the rest of the squad…”

“‘They’? You mean the Academy!?” Aella’s eyes lit up with excitement. “We haven’t gotten fresh blood from them in years!’

Flyntt frowned at that. “Yeah, and you know how excited they always are about the ‘honor’ of joining our ranks… pfft, honor,” he snorted, “Only reason I signed up is cos’ they caught me stealing an apple or two, and it was that or jail time.”

“It’ll be better than training a bunch of cynical locals for once.” She shot him a wink. “I get the distinct impression my newly minted position is going to be very busy soon enough…” Aella let out a giggle. It took everything she had not to start skipping in the street. Brand new recruits always made her feel giddy - especially ones from the Academy who had no idea what they were really in for in the real world.

“If it’s some sheltered colt I’m quitting,” he said flatly. “I’ve had enough disappointment for one career.”

“But Flyntt… if you drop yours, then Boreas wins.” She nudged him in the shoulder. “And we all know that you can’t let him do that.”

Flyntt grinned, “Yeah, well… guess I might as well give this a shot. Just don’t be surprised if I pay you a visit once the kid’s driven me up the wall.”

“Could be worse, y’know. He could be like Boreas’ new recruit. All he cares about is impressing mares with his shiny armor. He even tried to flirt with Cadet Shield! Too bad for him she’s… well…” Aella giggled again.

“Ah, she’s ‘taken’, I getcha,” he winked. “Not that I can’t sympathize with having spent years trying to impress someone that never seemed to notice,” Flyntt muttered quietly.

“Don’t worry, Lieutenant. Murdoc will see you for the beautiful stallion you are someday.”

Flyntt snorted, grinning. “C’mon, let’s go meet the newbies. Might even find one that’ll make you wish you didn’t give up field work,” he teased.

“What, and miss out on being everyone’s favorite confessional?” Aella smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

* * *

Flyntt looked around the barracks, noting the sea of new faces lined up in shiny new armor. They’ve never had to use it, we’ll see how much it shines once they’ve spent a few months out there…

Of the group, several looked particularly promising- an intelligent-looking mare stood at the far end, looking thoroughly bored, while a tall, broad-shouldered pegasus stood close to her. At the far opposite, however, was a small earth pony that was bouncing from hoof to hoof, a giddy grin on his face. Anyone but him and I’ll be fine, Flyntt thought, reassuring himself.

“It pleases me to see such fresh, young, eager faces.” Captain Gilded Leaf’s voice echoed around the Barracks as he stepped out of his office. “And from the Canterlot Academy, no less! We rarely get such privilege anymore. Welcome, one and all, to Manehattan.”

“I should hope you find your stay here a fulfilling, and possibly enlightening, one. I understand Canterlot has had its fair share of troubles, but I doubt it’s anything like here. Muggings, thefts and the like are far too common for my tastes. I assure you, however, murders are rare. But that’s not what I wish to discuss.”

“We have a strange situation currently. A crime lord who calls himself the Red Hoof, and a vigilante who calls herself the Mare do Well. These two have been at each other’s throats for quite some time now, and we are dedicated to helping the latter. It is unfortunate that you came at a such a time, as there’s a kidnapping case we’re admittedly still working on. But, hopefully, new faces breed new ideas. Just last night we managed to secure a sizeable number of the Red Hoof’s soldiers, as well as chase off his highest lieutenant. My only regret is we couldn’t catch her. Now then, you may check the billboard below and seek out your assigned instructor. You will be under his or her tutelage for six months, at which point you will either be promoted to Sentry or asked to leave. Carry on.”

Captain Leaf strolled back into his office, thankful no one could see him practically collapse into his chair. Sleep had been a cruel mistress standing just out of reach, and her lacking embrace began to show. He had continually paced back and forth last night, kicking himself for not having joined in the operation. He needed to be there, to see if things ran smoothly. The reports said it had, more or less, but that wasn’t good enough. Not anymore.

* * *

As the new Cadets went off with their respective Lieutenants, Flyntt’s smile became a bit more strained with each passing moment. He seriously considered leaving before his worst fears could be confirmed. Not that one, not that one, dear sweet Luna not the annoying one…

Flyntt relaxed a little when Boreas walked up to the Cadet he had marked, smiling - and his heart sank when the Lieutenant pointed straight at him.

Flyntt forced himself to grin, not quite sure if he was actually grimacing, before relaxing his expression a little and walking over. “Well kid, looks like you drew the short straw. I’m Lieutenant Flyntt, but I prefer just being called Flyntt if it’s all the same to you,” he said, extending a hoof.

The Cadet took the hoof, shaking it firmly. “It’s exciting to be here, sir! Everypony just calls me ‘fangs’ because… well…” He looked around, wincing, making sure he wasn’t being paid attention to. “I’m a half-breed. They just love to point out the one trait I get from dad.”

At this, Flyntt grinned. “You might prefer Manehattan to Canterlot in that case. Fewer snobs, and we’re much more tolerant of our kind around here. And the local ladies love an impressive set of teeth.” He grinned toothily, showing off his own set. “Might even find yourself a sweetheart.”

“You think so?” the cadet asked hopefully. “Because mom absolutely refuses to let me get rid of them. And she’s the only dentist I can afford…”

Flyntt became serious for a moment. “She’s right. Your teeth are a part of who you are. I got mocked plenty for mine when I was a kid, but times are different now- especially around here."

“Sooo when do we start?” Cadet Fangs asked, wanting nothing more than to drop the conversation. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Well, officially we start Monday, but if you wanna go grab a beer I wouldn’t mind. Wanna learn a bit about the newbie I’ll be tutoring for the next six months.” He smiled warmly. This might not be so bad, after all.

“Sounds good to me, uh, sir!”

* * *

“Hey, who’s this?” a rather unintelligent voice asked.

A young filly was surrounded by five colts, barely older than she was but taller and meaner.

“Erm, m-my name is…” she stuttered, backing away from the bullies. She whimpered - Frosty was still in class, and he wouldn't get out for another ten minutes. Plenty of time to get beaten up.

“It’s the Orange kid!” one of the other bullies piped up. “Y’know, the prissy, stuck up folks who live in a mansion on the fancy side of town.”

“Orange kid, huh?” the leader of the group snorted. “She don’t look so orange to me. Maybe we should change that… you guys got any paint?” He sneered, apparently proud of his own joke.

All of a sudden a tangerine flew out of nowhere, striking him on the back of the head. “Ouch! Who the heck did that?”

Before the other could answer they were pelted with more of the fruit from seemingly every direction.

“S-screw this, I’m outta here!” the leader yelled, running away. The others quickly followed suit, ducking away from the projectile fruit.

Snow Storm looked around, confused. She could hear laughter from nearby, and a unicorn four years older than her walked out of the school, cackling away, levitating several tangerines.

“That was fun!” She giggled, turning towards the filly she had just rescued. “I’m Primrose. Nice to meetcha!” She grinned, doing a mock-serious curtsy to her. “What’s your name?”

“S-Snow Storm,” she replied very quietly.

“Snow Storm? Sounds cool!” She grinned at her awful joke, “I think we’ll be good friends, Snow Storm.”

Snow Storm smiled weakly at her. “C-call me Snowy.”

“Done. Hey, y’know…” Primrose blushed. “Your big bro is kinda cute… Think you could hook us up?”

"Sure," Snow Storm mumbled in her sleep, smiling.

Prologue

January 5th, 1008,

I’m not sure how much of a dent I’ve even made in the Red Hoof’s empire. For months, I’ve been relentlessly hounding his operations, as the mayor secretly requested of me.

But the Red Hoof has yet to strike back. And that makes me very nervous.

From all I know, he’s a very proud stallion. He wouldn’t let these attacks go unchecked. So, what gives? The Guards all say that he’s afraid of me. Could I possibly let myself hope that it’s true?

After all I’ve been through, so far, I’m too cynical to think I’m winning this war of attrition. On the contrary, it feels like I’ve been pushing a boulder uphill ever since I’ve ‘officially’ become the Mare do Well.

Sometimes I wish I could just throw this suit in the garbage and be done with it. And other times… when I see the way Manehattan’s citizens look at me… I feel like it’s all worth it.

The sad truth is, I wouldn’t be happy either way. I couldn’t live with myself if another filly lost her family because I decided to be selfish and quit. But as it is now, I’m running in circles while stopping every now and again to bash my head against the wall.

But how I want the Red Hoof to make his move already! It’s much like that stupid game my Master taught me - Chess. He enjoyed that game. I despised it.

And here I am playing it.

I guess we wait and see how the pieces fall.

Speaking of seeing… I’ve still not been able to locate Primrose. It’s not likely she left the city, since Bolt Buck is still here. He and I… we’ve come to some sort of understanding. A part of me will always hate him, but after all he’s done for me, and for himself, I can’t just throw him under the carriage.

He explained everything in great detail after Bloodshot was dead. I listened. It was painful, but by the Goddess I listened.

Unfortunately, he hasn’t seen Prim either. Nor has her family.

On the bright side, my voice is back. I’ve impressed the doctor with the progress I’m making with my speech, though sometimes I still have to think about words before I say them.

It’s better than nothing, at least.

-Snow Storm

The cold, crisp winter air bit at Snow Storm as she galloped across a series of snow-covered rooftops. The worn Mare do Well suit she clad herself in offered little protection from the elements anymore. All around her costume were off-color spots where Annabelle Orange had patched up holes as best she could, but Snow Storm could feel the cold on her skin where new tears had opened up.

It was another grey day in an endless winter of grey days, and miniscule clumps of snow seemed not to fall but to flutter listlessly to wherever they happened to land. Snow Storm’s feet were numb; the insides of her boots had gotten snow in them, wetting her hooves and freezing them. What once had been foam-padding that felt like walking on clouds was now an uncomfortable lump from extreme overuse. The soles of her boots offered no traction, and more often than not she had missed a footfall and nearly fell down.

Ahead of her, a pegasus filly with a gaudy, oversized hat stolen from the Mare do Well flew on, safe from any possibility of misstepping. She was giggling as she flew, as though being chased by the Mare do Well was nothing more than a game.

And to her, that’s all it was.

The Mare do Well was about to pounce upon her little thief when she saw she was out of buildings to run on. Ah, crap, she thought, trying to stop on the slippery roof. Her rear leg slipped out from under her. She fell on her haunches, skidding into the rooftop’s lip and smacking hard into it with her side. A wheezy grunt escaped through her mask, and she pulled herself up. The filly was hovering just out reach, grinning at the Mare do Well from ear-to-ear in joyful bliss.

“Nya nya, can’t catch me! What’s the matter, is the big bad Mare do Well afraid of a little jump?” The little pegasus taunted her foe from just inches out of reach. “You took down Bloodshot, but a little filly’s too much for you to handle? Bahahahaha!” She clutched her stomach as she doubled over in laughter, still floating in midair. It was a sight as strange as it was frustrating.

She then slapped the Mare do Well’s hat on her own head. It completely swallowed up her smaller head. She tipped it back in order to see again, raised her forehooves up to the sides of her face and waved them while blowing a raspberry.

“Not so cool without your hat, are ya?” the filly teased. Never before had Snow Storm wanted wings more. That, or a long fly swatter to teach this brat some manners.

And of course it had to be a filly today. Were it an adult, she’d try for the jump anyway, but a kid? She could potentially hurt the kid. And over what? Some obviously fake jewellery? The hat was a more personal blow, but there was nothing she could do now. The filly took off, still giggling at her victory.

Too bad none of the pegasus guards are around. Snow Storm glanced around to confirm this thought. This section of the city was a low-priority area, meaning both shifts of the Guard gave it little more than a cursory acknowledgement. They were too busy elsewhere, patrolling the slums and deep downtown - this hoity-toity area with minor misdemeanors was hardly worth their attention, though the citizens would probably argue otherwise.

Snow Storm grunted, trotting down a fire-escape and onto the streets below. Now that the chase was over, she began to shiver from the cold winter’s air. While still in the alleyway, she slipped off the soggy Mare do Well boots before her hooves could get frostbitten. She grumbled to herself, walking out onto the cold, cold sidewalk and towards home.

“Oh, dear, come with me! Quickly!” Mrs. Orange practically dragged her daughter across the house as Snow Storm entered. “We need to get you near the fireplace before you come down with a cold! Mosley!? Warm towel! Ugh, where ever is that stallion? In his study, I’ll bet! Can’t hear a word I say!”

“But mom, I am fine,” Snow Storm said, though she offered no resistance. When Mrs. Orange wanted her way, she usually got it. Besides, stretching out in front of the fireplace sounded like the most wonderful thing in the world. She might even have herself a little nap. But first…

“Mom?”

“Yes, dear?” Snow Storm knew it made Mrs. Orange’s heart leap just to be called that. Or to be called anything by her adopted child. They reached the fireplace, and Snow Storm plopped down in front of the crackling fire, raising her hooves up to it first and foremost.

“...” She rolled her eyes upward, practicing the sentence in her mind several times before attempting it with her still-learning tongue. Even with the rehearsal, there were stutters. She wished she could attribute them to being cold. “What… is the name of the town where your niece lives?”

Annabelle Orange draped a blanket over her daughter, and slid a pillow under her head. “You mean, Ponyville?”

“Yes. Yes! Ponyvale! I… need to go there.”

“Oh?” Mrs. Orange gave Snow Storm a bemused smile. The last time Snow Storm had been there was just after her brother had been lost. “What ever for, dear?”

Now Snow Storm sat up, turning to face her adopted mother. “Because... I need the suit to be remade completely. It’s falling apart.”

Mrs. Orange frowned - not because her own repairs to the Mare do Well suit had been called into question, but because she wanted nothing more than for Snow Storm to be rid of that thing forever - not that she’d ever say so out loud.

“Well, alright. Get some rest and pack your things tonight. The train for Ponyville leaves early in the morning.”

Snow Storm lagged behind the Oranges on their way to the station. In truth, the mare wanted- no, needed to take a very certain shortcut. She stopped at the corner of an intersection, despite the signal across the street showing ‘walk’. The streets were alive and bustling, but Snow Storm felt alone as she stared down the old, familiar lane.

She’d been down that street several times, actually. But always had it been as the Mare do Well - never as herself. Not since Frost Storm…

Across the street, deciding to take the long way to the train station, the Oranges stopped and looked back. Mr. Orange was about to call for his adopted daughter and inform her that time was running short, but a hoof on his shoulder stopped him. Mrs. Orange only shook her head and continued on. Mosley looked at Snow Storm a moment longer, and turned to follow his wife.

Taking a deep breath, Snow Storm reached one foreleg onto the beginning of that fateful street. Her heart raced. A band wrapped itself around her gut and squeezed. The world spun for a moment, and she felt on the brink of nausea.

Worst of all, she could see the phantom images of the night so long ago, as though the events were permanently being replayed. She told herself that the sidewalks were brimming with ponies who gave this particular stretch of Manehattan no more thought than it deserved, but it was hardly comforting.

She could almost see the filly that was her galloping away from the scene, and she closed her eyes, trying to force the specters away. She squeezed her eyes tighter and tighter as voices echoed in her head, lively enough that she could’ve sworn somepony was talking directly into her ear.

“Yer on our turf now, kids! We don’t like that, do we boys!?”

Laughter. Horrible, cold laughter.

“Leave us alone or I’ll-”

“Or you’ll what, buddy!?”

“Frosty, I’m scared!”

“Aw, you hear that, boys? She’s scared. The wittle fiwwy is aww afwaid.” That one was Rough Houser. Ironically, the only one she didn’t attack. “Maybe you oughta give her a hug, Bloodshot!”

“You leave her alone!” There was a smack. The biggest one wiped his chin, and then growled. He was growling, like an animal. Then there was a louder smack, more like a hard crunch. The biggest one had thrown his forehoof into Frost Storm’s face. Frosty had told her to run at that point.

And she did.

“No!” the older version of Snow Storm said aloud, causing a few ponies to glance her way. “I… am over this!” She gazed sternly down the wide street, keeping her eyes straight and forward as she began her march, forcing the echoes from her mind. The surging crowd gave her no more that a cursory glance now - they were used to ponies talking to themselves, apparently. “I took care of this. I’m done with it.”

And as she made it to the end of the block, she truly felt like she was finally done with it. The band around her gut loosened, and then disappeared completely. She turned around and looked back, overcome with a strange and childish desire to just gallop up and down the sidewalk until she was out of breath.

She giggled and, not knowing she was going to do it, saluted the street before turning back towards the direction of the train station.

To which she did gallop. Giggling the whole way.

* * *

“First train to Ponyville, boarding now!” the conductor yelled at the head of the station. Snow Storm jumped to life, having fallen asleep next to her parents. These days her erratic lifestyle had made her accustomed to sleeping whenever and wherever she could, and it was a very useful trait to have developed. Mr. Orange, as busy as he was, had made sure to put aside his work to see her off.

“You’ll take care in Ponyville, won’t you dear? They’re much friendlier over there, I’m sure you will be fine, but even so please use caution when speaking with others. Oh, and if Applejack offers you any apple related treats to bring back, accept them, would you dear?” he reminded her for the umpteenth time. Snow watched the smile on his face and reminded herself to bring some back either way - Sweet Apple Acres produced the only apples he truly loved.

Mrs. Orange, however, had other things troubling her mind. “I’m quite worried about Primrose. Even if she felt she couldn’t handle what happened anymore, I was certain she’d at least see you off at the train station. She was never the sort to let her grief consume everything she held dear… and you are certain she wasn’t involved with those gangs in any way, my dear?” she asked Snow Storm, deeply concerned.

Snow Storm offered her classic shrug as a response. “Maybe she was just oh-ver-whelmed?” She broke up the last word, carefully and slowly enunciating each syllable.

“You are probably right, my dear,” Mrs. Orange said fondly before handing her a present, “this is a little something for the journey. It gets dreadfully cold in Ponyville during the winter months, so I knitted you a scarf. I only apologize that it’s not purple” The mare dropped her daughter a wink.

Snow Storm tied it around her neck with a ‘thanks’. The cherry-red fabric clashed against the outfit she wore today, but at least she couldn’t be missed in a crowd.

“Dear, I hope you enjoy yourself in Ponyville, but I do wish you would tell me why you want to go there so badly,” Mr. Orange said, a little disappointed that she had let Mrs. Orange in on whatever her reasons were, but not himself.

“It’s personal, love,” Mrs Orange replied, shooting him the sort of glance that always made him stop asking questions. “And besides, I’m sure after all that has happened she is more than deserving of a break, no? Her friend has disappeared, there was a vicious criminal running wild on our streets…”

“Oh, of course.” He nodded, deciding not to pursue the question any further. Mares. “And if you could be so kind, do try to sell some of our product… What?” Annabelle Orange was giving her husband a dirty look.

“Really, she does not need to sell our citrus while on vacation!”

“But I-”

The train’s whistle caught Snow Storm’s attention, and she turned, trotting towards it. As she did so, she heard the voice of her brother in her head.

Make sure you tell them you love them before you go, Sis.

For some reason, his voice felt like a bad omen for once.

* * *

Abacus lowered the book she’d been reading just enough for her emerald-green eyes to peer over its top. The time had come--finally--to make their move, and she was itching to get the ball rolling.

That little brat in her fruity costume had been making a mockery of the Red Hoof’s operations for months, now. Worse, she’d given the Guard some confidence! They’d begun to turn on their backs on him!

Still, it was about damned time as far as she was concerned. The Red Hoof had allowed the Mare do Well, without retaliation, to do as she pleased. And what she pleased was to make a large dent in his beautiful empire.

“Patience, my dear,” he would often say as he nursed that seemingly perpetual glass of brandy. “We may still hold the advantage, but we have only one shot at this. It must count.”

She didn’t dare tell him the things she heard deep in the underbelly of the city. Several of the bigger gangs had begun to believe the Red Hoof was losing his touch. Worse, that he was afraid. That he was just rolling over while some costumed kook took him down piece by piece.

And if she wouldn’t tell him such things, she definitely wouldn’t mention that the seeds of doubt had been sown into her own mind. She often thought she could hear an undertone of fear whenever he spoke now. If she was just a minor lackey, she could bail like the rest of them had begun to do, like a bucket which has sprung a minor leak. But she was in too deep to leave - at her betrayal, he would retaliate. And swiftly.

She may not have to worry about such things, after all. It was a lovely coincidence that she’d been at the station, overseeing a more legitimate cargo unloading when she’d spotted Snow Storm. Abacus’ heart skipped a beat as she saw the insufferable mare board the train to Ponyville.

Whatever business the Mare do Well had in such a worthless little village, Abacus couldn’t fathom. But it was the opening that the Red Hoof had been waiting for. She was sure of it.

A plan immediately formed in her mind. She oversaw the rest of her own operation while waiting impatiently for the train to depart. As soon as it was gone, Abacus sauntered over to the Oranges with an innocent, helpless-looking smile, the book tucked under her wing. She'd remind herself to finish it later - Daring Do was always a good read. A pair of station guards took up her flank.
Game time, she thought.

“Hey there, Snow Storm, welcome to Ponyville!” A warm voice with a rich country twang could be heard from the platform as soon as she stepped off the train. She looked around the crowd for the hat that she had always used to identify the mare, only to jump slightly she she saw she was right behind her as she turned around.

“Gotcha!” Applejack chuckled. “Still not got the hang of hide and seek, huh? It’s good to see you again, kid!” she said, hugging Snow Storm with surprising strength.

“Er… It’s nice to see you, too?”

“You don’t remember me, do ya? The last time I saw you-” she paused, her smile falling from her face as her eyes became sad.

“- er, sorry,” Applejack said quickly. “It’s been a long time, that’s all Anyway,” she chirped up, trying to lighten the mood, “why’d you decide to drop by, darlin’?”

“To be truthful, this isn’t a…” She paused for a moment, thinking of the right words. “Pleasure visit. I need something.”

Applejack nodded. “If it’s about what I think it is, we might need ta’ go elsewhere. Walk with me, will ya please?” she requested, walking away from the station.

“I heard about what you’ve been up to with that suit of yours,” she whispered to the mare as they walked, far from the ears of the ponies at the station. “It was all over the papers. Never thought you’d actually use it, to be honest. You’re as brave as your folks, that’s for sure.”

“You know more than I’m comfortable with,” Snow Storm remarked dryly, shooting a sly glare to Applejack.

“Kid, I was the one who gave ya that suit, remember?” Applejack shot Snow Storm a slight grin. “Anywho, you still haven’t given me the specifics. To what do I owe the pleasure of yer visit?” she said, mock-curtsying in a teasing fashion.

Snow Storm glanced around, but the two mares were alone on the frozen stretch of road leading up to Sweet Apple Acres. Near them was a ramshackle house which Applejack swore she’d get around to tearing down someday, but simply kept forgetting about it in her busy life.

“I need you to repair the suit.”

At this, Applejack burst into loud laughter for several awkward minutes before finally regaining her composure.

“Me? I’m sorry, Snowy, but ain’t a snowflake’s chance in Tartarus I can fix that thing. Lucky fer you the mare that made it lives nearby, and is one of my best friends. She’ll patch it up for ya, no problem. Wanna go there now?” she asked Snow Storm.

“Oh,” was all Snow Storm could say at first. More ponies means more of a chance to be compromised. “Can this…” What was the word? She searched her brain, like a businessmare flipping through a hundred filing cabinets. “Seamstress! Can this seamstress be trusted?”

“I swear on my orchard, she won’t tell a soul,” Applejack raised a hood to her heart, her expression completely serious for a moment.

Snow Storm frowned, but it was the best she was going to get. And sometimes, chances had to be taken. “If you say so.”

* * *

The bell jingled as the door struck it, and from the depths of the Carousel Boutique, Rarity automatically recited the old greeting she herself had written in a moment of pure genius.

“Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where everything is chic, unique, and magnifi-” She cut her own words off with a sharp, dramatic gasp as she saw her two latest customers: one being Applejack, and the other a walking abomination of fashion if ever there was one.

She seemed not to run, but to practically teleport in front of Snow Storm, grabbing the scarf which Mrs. Orange had knitted and untangling it from the neck of the stranger. “Oh, no no no no! This simply will not do! How could anypony think to give you such a garish thing with your color scheme, dear!? I mean, red on a white coat and blue mane!? Whomever sold you this needs to be banished from Equestria for their taste in fashion, or lack thereof!”

In a flash, Snow Storm grabbed the scarf, her eye twitching. “I don’t care what color it is, it is very dear to me. Don’t ever insult it again,” she said angrily.

“Oh, of course… eheheh…” Rarity shrunk back at the outburst. “Sentiment over fashion anyday! But fear not, I know exactly why you’re here!”

Applejack whispered, “It’s from her Mom, I recognize that knittin’ anywhere. Try not to take it too personal.”

“Yes, of course,” Rarity replied, not even bothering with whispering. Her confidence seemed to have magically reappeared. “I understand completely now. Why, my own younger sister knitted me this woolen stocking cap and… while it’s… alright…” She grimaced as she said that word, as though she were biting down on something sour. “It’s still from family and I will cherish it! But enough, there is business to conduct, and I know why you’re here!” Several small objects including a brush and an uncoiled measuring tape floated over to Snow Storm. The tape wrapped itself tightly around her waist, and the brush set about stroking her messy, knotted mane.

“Clearly you are here to purchase something from my new Winter lineup! Fashionable and functional! I swear on Princess Celestia herself that you will look your absolute best while staying comfortably warm!”

Snow Storm shook her head slowly, producing the tattered and well-worn remnants of her Mare do Well suit and placing them on the table. “I need this fixed. And made better.”

Rarity forced herself to look away from the tattered thing - it was causing an ache in her heart, almost as bad as if one of her actual friends were in a similar situation. Instead she leveled her gaze at Snow Storm, her eyes burning intensely. “You do realize this suit was never meant to be used for practical work? It’s merely a showpiece. And what happened to the hat!? It was the centerpiece of the entire outfit!”

“Yes, I know,” Snow Storm said frankly. “I want you to... make it useful.”

“Very well,” Rarity said. In truth, she was excited at the prospect of revisiting this old costume, and even enhancing it. It would be a new challenge. “Give me a list of what you need, and I shall see if they are possible.”

Snow Storm produced a piece of rolled parchment from her bag and gave it to the seamstress.. It was a pre-written list of enhancements.

Rarity poured over the requests, her eyes shooting back and forth rapidly as she scanned the list several times over. “Well… such things can be done, but…” She took a glance down at the tatters. The prospect of repairing it made the heartache a little easier to bear, but just a little. “It will be difficult, you know-”

“Oh,” Snow Storm replied at once, reaching forward to get her patchy suit. “I understand. It is... too much for you.” She had to stifle a wicked grin as Rarity shot her hoof out, clamping down on Snow Storm’s own. The proud ones were always so easy to get at.

“Now you wait just a minute!” Rarity snapped. Snow Storm liked the fire she was seeing behind the eyes of the seamstress. “I would not be able to sleep at night knowing one of my pieces is in such shape! And I said difficult, not impossible! But I will require gems. Many of them. And I just ran out yesterday!”

Snow Storm blinked. “Gems? You don’t take bits?” She hadn’t prepared for that sort of contingency. The shops in Manehattan which took gems instead of bits were few and far between, mostly owned by the extremely rare straight-and-narrow Diamond Dog. But if it had to be done, then it had to be-

“Oh, I would never dream of charging you for this! The gems are foci for some of these enhancements you desire.”

“Oh. Alright. Where’s the jewellery store located? Price is no problem.”

Rarity cast a sideways, slightly amused glance at Applejack. “You’re not from around here, are you deary?” she asked of Snow Storm, whom herself looked slightly puzzled.

“Kiddo, this is the country,” Applejack said, shooting her own worried look first at Rarity, then to Snow Storm. “This ain’t like Manehattan where you can just buy ‘em up. Naw, you gotta dig for ‘em out here. And that means dealing with Diamond Dogs. They might be a bit slow nowadays thanks to the winter, but we’ll hafta be careful and-”

“‘We’?” Snow Storm asked, putting on a half-smirk. “There’s no need for a ‘we’. I’ll take care of them myself.”

Applejack balked, and Rarity grimaced. “Dearie, I really think it would be wise to bring Applejack along. Or even Rainbow Dash! She’s always up for a bit of excitement.”

“No!” said Snow Storm, losing her good humor rather quickly. Of course, these simple rural ponies were just trying to help, but she couldn’t be worrying about them every second. “I can deal with a few mutts. I am the Mare d-do Well, remember?”

Rarity huffed - this one was every bit as headstrong as Applejack was. What was it with Earth Ponies and their egos? Applejack only smirked, for she’d known a thing or two about willful (or stubborn, depending on your point of view) pride.

“Very well,” Rarity said, finally conceding. “But I do have one thing to give you.” A miniature horseshoe with the solid end connected to a fine silver chain floated over towards the trio and slid itself over Snow Storm’s head. She held the horseshoe part in one hoof and looked down at it, eyebrow cocked.

“It’s a Gem Finder,” Rarity explained, looking rather pleased with herself. “You see, I can naturally find gems in the ground, but if I need an Earth Pony like Applejack here to go in my stead-”

Applejack mumbled something unpleasant about the last time she’d done Rarity such a favor.

“-then this helps locate them, much like a magnet! It’s really one of my more genius creations. I’ve been thinking of making more, you know. Imagine the bits I could make on such a thing! Why, the mining companies from all over Equestria would come and-” She saw the look on their faces, and awkwardly chuckled. “Yes, well, at any rate. Speak a phrase to it--‘locate gems’--and it comes to life. Say ‘no more gems’ and it just becomes a very fashionable necklace!”

Snow Storm stuffed the list of required gems Rarity had given her into a saddlebag. “Good. I’ll be back soon.” She turned, walking to the door. Outside the window, a light snowfall had started. If she was lucky, it’d only be a dusting. “Oh, and don’t worry about making a new hat,” she called back as she walked out of the Boutique. “Trust me, I’ll get it back very soon.”

She was not lucky, as it turned out.

Snow Storm squinted against the miniature blizzard that the weather pegasi had been building all morning. Her face was getting close to numb, and her nose was sore from her constantly wiping it with the rough sleeve of her thick coat.

The road to the Diamond Dog’s gem mines was caked with frost, which sparkled beautifully whenever the few rays of winter sunlight peeked from behind the otherwise pale white sky above. Snow Storm chuckled at the irony of the fact that, despite her name, she really didn’t particularly care for snow at all. It didn’t help that the stuff brought back memories of snowball fights with her brother, either…

* * *

He flopped dramatically into the snowbank, flailing his hooves with exaggeration as the last snowball hit his covered face. “Ya got me!” Frost Storm said, laying back and lolling his tongue out. Snow Storm started giggling, and before he could help it, Frost Storm started giggling too.

“You think mom made some hot cocoa!?” Snow Storm asked, hopping up and down excitedly for the prospect of hot cocoa.

“I sure hope so,” her big brother replied. He smiled and ruffled the top of her head, messing up the little fuzzy cap she was wearing. “But if not, I’ll just have to make you some-”

* * *

Angry voices came on the wind, cutting off Snow Storm’s memory. Her ears twitched upon hearing the whiny cries of Diamond Dogs on the wind. Sounds like they’ve got their own problems. But they would hardly ignore one lone pony - they always needed muscle to pull their carts. They’d be in for one hay of a surprise if they tried to attack her, though. There was nothing for her to do, she decided, but to continue forward. Knew I should've worn the white coat, she thought. The brown, fluffy thing she wore now stuck out far too much in the glistening white, rocky lands. The coat limited her movement, but not too badly. She could still take most of them without much trouble-

Her left ear twitched back just a moment before a stray, lanky mutt pounced, wrapping his ‘arms’ around her neck in an attempt to tackle her. She bucked, throwing him off into a snowbank. He stood up, shaking his body and lunged again, snarling. She ducked under his pounce, bringing the top of her head up into the Dog’s jaw.

Snow Storm grabbed one of his arms and tumbled him over, using her bodyweight to send him crashing to the ground, the snow mercifully softening the impact.

They’re close… how am I supposed to get one to dig for me? she wondered. Now she counted four of them as she crested the hill onto a flat, rocky plateau - three adults and a pup. From the tone of their voices and the violent gestures, they were angry with the young one over... something. She couldn’t make out exactly what yet, but Snow Storm’s focus was turned to the cart which she could see near the pack. It was one of the ones used for gathering gems, and that meant…

"You’ll take that bloody thing to the ends of the earth if you have to, now get moving, and if it isn’t full when you get back they’ll be no supper waiting!" one of the older ones barked to the scruffy-looking pup. He seemed to offer no protest, instead walking with a slump.

She carefully slid into the cart without any of them noticing, at first panicking at the apparent lack of cover. All he has to do is peek in here and I’m exposed, she thought, figuratively kicking herself for not having entirely thought out this plan. It always works in the radio shows. Looking closer, she found a layer of hide which she slid under. As the cart began to move, half of her jokingly wondered which one of their pack she was hiding beneath.

The other half didn’t want to know.

* * *

Figaro’s belly rumbled loudly. He whined deep in the back of his throat, sniffling silently lest the others hear him. If he didn’t produce the gems, there’d be no supper. Not that he could remember the last time he’d had a supper, anyway.

He tugged at the cart, groaning at its weight. It felt heavier, but he attributed that to simply starving. “Stupid gems… just a bunch of fancy rocks…” the pup muttered aloud, slowly moving the cart to the mines. The place was all but invisible to the naked eye, but the pup’s keen sense of smell had led them to it easily. As he finally entered the place the mare froze, dreading the moment he would turn to the cart.

Can’t very well beat up a kid… if he just gives me the gems, then thing’s will go easily enough. But if he doesn’t?

Snow Storm shook her head. There would be time to worry about that later. For now, she was simply grateful to be out of the cold.

The inside of the mine was dry and dark, and seemed to stretch on forever. Snow Storm waited until the child’s footsteps were far away before leaping out, taking care not to bump into any of the walls as she slowly crept towards the sound of a claws frantically scratching away against the cave wall.

After almost an hour of watching the pup dig and dig, the cart was still nearly empty. Snow Storm grunted - her plan to let the Dog do all the work had apparently failed. Just a pup, she thought to herself, staring at him. He was beginning to cry. Maybe he's too young to hate. Maybe we can help each other out... Just as she gathered the resolve to go and confront him, praying he didn't yell out to his comrades outside, her rump knocked a stone loose from the wall and sent it crashing loudly to the ground. The noise caught Figaro’s attention.

“What? W-who’s there?” he whimpered, putting on a growl so pathetic it was almost adorable.

Trepidation seized Snow Storm. She hid in the shadow, pressing herself up against the wall as tightly as she could, her resolve lost. As long as he doesn’t smell horseflesh… She could only hope his senses weren’t that keen yet. At least I’m not sweating.

For a terrible moment the pup sniffed the air, looking around with concern, before grabbing the cart and pushing as fast as he could. The big Dogs had said these mines were haunted, but Figaro only thought they had been lying just to scare him.

It took him a few minutes to make his way to a new spot where he could dig, closer to the entrance now. She followed him, trying to stay silent. Around a curve, the cold air from the outside howled with an unearthly cry into the cave mouth, creating a frigid wind tunnel.

She peeked around the corner, frowning. So much for using the pup to dig for her. She’d just have to go at it for herself, she decided. The pup wouldn’t come much further back into the mine after his little scare, she silently hoped.

Before Snow Storm could move, however, the screeching voices of the adult dogs was carried in on the screaming wind. Apparently, the trio had grown tired of waiting. They rushed the cart, surrounding it and pushing the pup around. One large shove sent him sprawling to the hard stone ground. Two of the Dogs laughed and pointed while the largest thrust his fat snout into the still-empty minecart. Snow Storm watched as Figaro stood up and barked back pathetically, much to the contemptuous amusement of that particular pack’s Alpha.

“What’s this!?” the Alpha asked sardonically, pulling his face out of the cart. “Did I just hear the sound of a whiny little brat that didn’t find the alpha even one gem today?” He raised his large paw and smacked Figaro across the muzzle, sending the pup back to the ground.

Figaro let out a cry, rubbing his cheek. “I-I'm sorry...”

“Sorry doesn't keep us stocked!" one of the others snapped, taking his turn to slap Figaro to the ground while the third Dog laughed stupidly. "No food for a week! You're a waste of resources!”

“That’s not fair, you’re all a bunch of mangy bullies!”

Suddenly the laughter of the three turned to snarls, their eyes glowing yellow in the darkness of the cave.

“You called us mangy, boy? Let’s see how tough you are with one ear…” the Alpha snarled, slowly backing Figaro into a corner. He grabbed the pup by the neck, lifting the scrawny thing easily. Figaro flailed and gagged, clawing at the thick, hairy arm of his assailer. The two behind the Alpha resumed their malevolent guffawing at the expense of the pup.

Sis, they’re going to kill him! The voice of Snow Storm’s late brother piped up in her mind. She eyed the situation. Three big Dogs, and one scrawny one. She couldn't rule out the possibility that the pup would turn on her to gain favor - these creatures would do just about anything for themselves. What, afraid of a puppy now? She snorted - the voice had a point. Innocent was innocent until proven guilty, she decided. She slipped her fluffy coat off, ignoring the cold air biting at her, and tossed a rock at the head of the fattest mutt.

Besides, fighting was just plain fun.

“Argh! Wossat?” The dull witted member of the three turned, looking for where the rock had come from, and spotted one of those insufferable equines. “A pony? Here? Get her!” he shouted, catching the attention of his pack. The Alpha stopped abusing Figaro long enough to watch as his subservient leaped forward to try and slice the pony with his claws.

She ducked beneath his sharp claws and sent a hoof straight into his gut. The second dived towards her, fangs ready to bite deep into her as she carefully dodged before throwing him to the floor, sending a hoof down on his face with a satisfying crunch.

The Alpha was close behind. He swiped at her face, raking his claws against her cheek. Her face felt hot, and she could feel the blood from the newly-formed cut run down her cheek. She wiped it with her foreleg, scowling at the crimson smear on her otherwise immaculate coat of white hair. The Dog howled a bestial yell of apparent triumph, charging her again. This time she spun around, sending both of her impressive rear legs straight into his jaw. The Dog yelped and bowled over backwards. A sickening crunch came as the back of his head collided with the stone wall of the cave.

The pup whimpered, curled up tight in the corner of the cave. After a few minutes he realized he was out of danger, and turned to look at his hero.

“Er… thanks…” he managed quietly, before turning to the cart. She watched him, ignoring the cold wind for now. Her blood was still up, her heart racing, and that would keep her warm for the time being.

If he tries to howl for help, tackle him, she thought coldly. It wouldn’t do to take unnecessary risks, even with a little Dog like the one before her. Speaking of unnecessary risks… She walked over to the others who had just attacked her, stepping carefully to keep the pup in her line of sight. The first two were knocked out cold, and would be for a decently long time. The last one, whom she believed was their Alpha, however...

She felt no pulse from the neck of that one. A small feeling of regret stole in the back of her mind, but she shook it away, telling herself it was just a freak accident...

Still, she’d have to remember to tone down her kicks in the future. She didn’t particularly want to make this sort of scenario a habit, especially against her own kind back home.

The only exception might’ve been Bloodshot.

In her silent musings, she hadn’t noticed as Figaro came back up to her, looking up at her with some mixture of apprehension and adoration.

“T-thank you,” he managed so quietly she almost wondered if she had imagined it. Though he was a Diamond Dog, she found him almost adorable, in a scruffy sort of way.

“What are you doing here? Ponies never come our way, it isn’t safe…"

Her eyes shifted from the cave mouth to the pup and back. “Are there others?” she asked, wearing a tight frown that seemed to frighten the pup. Loosen up, he’s no threat.

“Yes, but not nearby. Are they okay?” he said, pointing to the three.

“They’ll be fine,” she half-lied, not looking him in the eyes. Two of them would be, anyways.

“Here… it’s not much, but you sound cold, and I owe you. They’d have killed me if you hadn’t stepped in,” he said, removing his jacket and handing it to her. It was comically undersized, much like he was himself.

“You’re here for gems, right? Well, I couldn’t find any in there, so unless you’ve got some way to find them I’m afraid you’re in for a disappointment,” he said, pointing to the empty cart.

She ignored his offer of the jacket, instead walking back into the depths of the mine where her own lay. She could hear his whining with every step she took, as though he were afraid of any further than where light could reach.

“The mines, we Diamond Dogs made them, they run for miles… if you see some skeletons… well, a lot of my kind have died down here, and some of yours, too…” he gulped, trying to stay close to her.

“Bones don’t scare me,” she said dryly, slipping on her coat again and pulling out the necklace Rarity had given her. “It’s a good thing I didn’t have this last year…” she muttered before raising it to her lips and speaking the phrase Rarity had told her. Immediately the necklace thrummed to life, pointing itself straight out towards the pitch-black shaft. It’d be a nice time to be a unicorn, the mare thought dryly. Of course she’d forgotten to bring some sort of light source.

“Do you need a torch? I can go get one, we keep our stuff near the cave’s entrance. You should be fine for a few minutes, unless you’re afraid of the dark.”

Her ears twitched and she stopped, turning her head around to face the pup. “And as soon as you’re clear, you run to tell the rest of your pack about me?” she half-asked, half-accused.

“No! You can come along if you like. Just follow me, it won’t be long.”

Figaro led them to the entrance, a sack full of supplies leaning by the cave’s mouth. “Right, we’ll need a torch, and… anything else, while we’re here?”

She couldn’t think of anything else, and said so. As they started back in, Figaro hesitated at the cave’s mouth, whining slightly and wringing his wrists. Annoyance flashed up in Snow Storm’s mind, but she quelled it. The situation was awkward enough without her making it worse. “You’re afraid to go back in?” she asked, trying to sound kind and gentle.

“Those caverns are haunted… can you manage it without me? It’s scary enough going in with the others, but I’m afraid something will grab me in there…”

Snow Storm gave an exasperated sigh. She had the necessary excavation tools, of course, but a Diamond Dog’s paws could dig faster than her and her pickaxe any day of the week. With the added benefit of not accidentally shattering any of the gems she needed. “Will you come with if I promise to keep you safe?”

“I’ll come with you, but under one condition… when this is over, please, please take me with you. These guys’ll kill me when they wake up… I can’t live here anymore. They beat me, I haven’t eaten in days, and they treat me like a slave, so please…”

“I’ll take you as far as Ponyvale. Is that good enough?”

“I, erm… but what’ll I do? Can you at least help me find somewhere to live before you go?”

“Miss Applejack is kind. She will help” Snow Storm smiled to herself, both at the thought of Applejack and at her own little brand of trickery. As they talked, she had begun walking, with the pup following closely. It was a long moment before he realized how far he’d gotten into the cave. “But… I’ll do what I possibly can, seeing as how far you’ve gotten already.”

The torch shined brightly in the darkness, flickering softly in the distance as she walked. After a moment, she felt a tap on her shoulder, but turned, ready for a fight, but seeing only darkness.

“What are you waiting for? There are rubies in these walls!” the pup said excitedly, apparently years of having dug for the things having somehow not yet quenched his enjoyment of discovering a fresh vein of the minerals.

“Can you smell the different sorts of gems?” she asked, only now becoming aware that her necklace didn’t locate anything specific. She’d have to remind Rarity to fix that.

“Yeah, what do you need? There are rubies here, and… I think sapphires maybe somewhere nearby.”

“Here,” she said, reaching into her left saddlebag and pulling out the list of necessary gems. She handed it over to Figaro, who seemed almost eager to have some sort of job that wouldn’t result in a beating this time. Figaro began his work in an instant, tearing through the solid rock walls with frightening speed for a creature of his size, before placing a large pawful of glittering rubies in the cart.

“Right… sapphires next? You lead the way.”

* * *

After a few hours’ work, Snow Storm breached the cave entrance for the last time with her bags full and an exhausted Diamond Pup sleeping on her back. The Dogs she had fought off were gone, presumably having woken up and taken their fallen brother with them.

She marched on as the winds kicked up higher, keeping Figaro covered and warm as she walked back to Rarity’s.

The door to the Carousel Boutique opened, sending a waft of cold air through. Snow Storm shut the door against the wind and let out a relieved breath.

Figaro slid off of her back, huddling up to himself inside the large, fluffy coat to try and warm up. His snout was raw and runny, and the exposed parts of his face had been frosted. He cast his eyes downward, feeling a little guilty about the mare who had given up her warmth so he could have it. Her everything had been caked with a layer of snow. He didn’t know that she had bit down--hard--on her cheek to keep her teeth from chattering. She had lost feeling in her limbs half an hour ago, and she had begun to sneeze consistently.

Hope this place has some fire, Snow Storm thought to herself. I could use it.

“So, my dear, I take it you found the- oh good heavens!” Rarity shrieked, staring that the Diamond Dog pup sitting on the floor. “Get that… that filthy little beast out of my boutique at once!”

Snow Storm merely stared at Rarity, cocking her eyebrow.

“I don’t know what possessed you to bring one of those… disgusting creatures back here, but if you want me to make the suit I insist you take him outside first!” she said, turning her nose up and turning her back to the pair indignantly.

“Aw, c’mon, Rarity,” said Applejack as she trotted up to the pup before Snow Storm could even respond. “He’s sorta cute.”

“He is a nasty, scruffy monster, and I will not stand by as he coats the entirety of my store with his fleas!” she spat bitterly. “Have you forgotten that I was captured by these ugly brutes once, Applejack?”

Snow Storm’s eye twitched, and in a flash she had Rarity pinned against the wall, speaking slowly through gritted teeth. “Look, lady,” she snarled, “I suffered to get your precious rocks. I took claws t-to the face to fill your stupid shopping order.” She let Rarity go and backed away a bit, but still very much in reach. “Fix my suit,” she demanded coldly, with an underlying hint of ‘or else’.

Rarity flailed her hooves in a mini-tantrum, sighing. “Fine. But listen well… my suits are my children. If you hurt them, you hurt me. And I hurt you,” she said in a most unladylike tone. The sudden attempt at being threatening was almost amusing to Snow Storm.

“Wait for a day. I’ll be up all night on this… find somewhere for that… child… to sleep,” Rarity said, getting out her sewing machine and taking the gems.

* * *

“Er, Snowy? Rarity says she’s done,” Applejack said as the mare sat, slumped over in a chair in the corner of the room, the sun’s early ray’s peeking through the window. “She says you are gonna love what she’s done with it. Looks better than new!”

Snow Storm snorted and flailed her hooves as Applejack shook her awake. “Huh?” she mumbled sleepily, blinking her eyes open. “Wha…?” It took her a moment to remember where she was: Ponyvale. Ville, she told herself. Ponyville. Not vale. Curled up by the now-dead fireplace was a lump of fur and cloth that could only have been Figaro. So far, Snow Storm’s fear of retaliation from the Diamond Dogs onto the town hadn’t come to pass. Maybe they didn’t even care.

But what about their dead? The other two would tell as many Dogs as they could that a pony had done it.

Just another rumor, another legend of the Mare do Well… well, without the suit, the voice in her head offered. But as she began to think of the new suit, everything else hardly mattered. She imagined all the new features, and for a terrible, hilarious instant she pictured a frilly, pink suit with a bow and sequins, of Rarity having used the gems she had worked so hard to gain to make it ‘fabulous’ instead.

She burst through the doors to Rarity’s workroom, desperate to see what the mare had done to her suit, noting that the seamstress was slumped over a number of fabrics, exhausted. After a few seconds, she pointed a hoof to the cupboard.

Snow Storm reached inside, pulling out… the exact costume she had a year ago. It looked hardly any different, except completely re-sewn. She was frowning when Rarity mumbled dreamily, “Put it on.”

She did so, instantly feeling a strange and not quite unpleasant sensation on her body, like thousands of little tendrils tickling her. “It feels tingly,” Snow Storm said after a moment.

“More insulated,” Rarity mumbled, “softer padding, try kicking the wall…” she offered, still half-asleep.

Before Snow Storm had the chance to, she noted something else strange. The suit wasn’t exactly skin-tight, but it was much closer to her body-type than it had been. Oh thank Epona, she thought with a little embarrassment. No more bunching up in… places.

“Warm in cold places… cold in warm… whatever…” Rarity muttered, “and sweat absorbent.”

“Fire, water, and magic-proof?” Snow Storm asked, stretching herself. This suit felt good. The tingling she felt must have been the magic coursing through the costume, like blood through veins.

“Fire and Waterproof, but magic resistant,” Rarity corrected her, finally pulling herself out of her stupor, “I am not a miracle worker, my dear. But as you requested, crossbow bolts will have a much harder time getting through the suit now. They’ll still pierce the fabric, but they shouldn’t make it to your skin.”

Pierce the fabric… Snow Storm could’ve kicked herself for her lack of complete foresight. “So... what good will I be when I have to keep returning here every other week for repairs?”

At this, Rarity grinned, taking a small knife and slicing the suit slightly, “Just watch. My greatest feature.”

After a few minutes, the tear seemed to stitch back together.

“It has its limits, but for casual wear and tear, the suit will restore itself. I had a friend enchant it,” she grinned, even more glad than usual to have an Alicorn for a friend.

Snow Storm blinked, conveniently ignoring the fact that Rarity had nearly nicked her foreleg with that knife. “I, ah… don’t suppose a seamstress puts self-repairing enchantments on all of her clothes… lest she find herself out of a job?”

“No, and Twilight said she didn’t want me to bother her again, especially at three in the morning… but this, this was a special project. I don’t mean to brag, but if you ever find a suit half as advanced as this one again, I will eat my hat. Are you happy with it?”

Snow Storm went to walk forward, and nearly tripped over herself. She looked, seeing that the cape had nearly doubled in length and width. Before, it had been barely a rag, almost an afterthought. Now it looked more like a ball-gown draping over her body. She would have to get used to walking with it, but the aesthetic pleased her. It would look like she was gliding over the ground.

“Ah! That reminds me… I assume you’ll be leaving immediately without taking time to test out the gliding ability of your new cape?”

“This glides?” Snow Storm shook herself for emphasis. The cape fluttered a moment and dropped back down around her fluidly. If it wasn't silk, it was close.

“Oh my yes, but you need to get some air under it first, otherwise it doesn’t quite kick in. If you need to leap from building to building it should manage it, but it’s designed so as not to slow you down when jumping on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” said Snow Storm, not entirely convinced. It would’ve been nearly impossible to get what she wanted without some sort of mechanism, anyway. “Many thanks,” she said, leaving the room to speak to Applejack.

Applejack grinned as Snow Storm walked into the over room, “Lookin’ fancy there, kid. Bet that thing’s all kinds of baggy, though. Was kinda worried she’d go for style over substance with it, if I’m honest.”

Snow Storm was feeling pretty good, she had to admit. But one look at the sleeping pup cast her right back in a dour mood. Without taking her eyes off him, she asked of Applejack, “Will you take care of him, or do I have to take him home with me?”

Applejack’s grin fell right off her face.

“You want me to what?” she blurted, mouth agape. “Listen, he’s a sweet little thing, sure, but I’m not ready to look after a young’un of my own… but I guess if I ain’t ready, you sure as hay ain’t ready either, huh?” she said, staring sadly at the snoring bundle by the fireplace.

“Ah heck, okay. But I can’t promise I won’t send him to the orphanage. And if he pees on the carpet he’s outta here,” she said, grinning, “I guess this is goodbye then, huh?”

“I cannot say when I’ll be back,” Snow Storm said as she slipped out of the suit and packed it away. “Manehattan is… bad. It’s only been a day, and I feel as if I’ve been gone too long.”

“Yeah, well of course you feel that way. When I leave Ponyville for a few days I always feel like it’s been forever when I get back, especially when I leave my friends behind. Oh, and I brought a few apple fritters for the journey, since I know how your dad loves ‘em.” She smiled, giving Snow Storm a box of the things.

“You take care out there, Snowy. And tell your folks I said hi!”

She nodded, her face set in a hard frown as her mind went back to Manehattan and the Red Hoof. But before she even walked out the door of the Boutique, she went over to Figaro and nudged him awake. “Hey. I’m leaving now,” she said softly. She promised herself she’d never again miss a chance to say goodbye to someone, even a kid like him.

“Goodbye,” he said, hugging her to her surprise. Even these dogs have sweet kids… she thought fondly as she walked out the door, eyes set on the train station in the distance.

Even before she arrived, there was an unease in her heart as Snow Storm stepped off the train. Her parents were supposed to be there, weren’t they? Even if Mr.Orange had been too busy, surely her mother would have shown up… instead, she saw Bolt Buck standing there, waiting for her.

“Hey, Snow Storm, you caught me just as I was about to leave,” he said with a sad smile, his bags by his side.

A tiny voice in the back of her mind screamed, ‘Good! Stay out of my sight for the rest of our lives!’, but she quelled and ignored it. “What’s the matter?” she asked instead, trying to catch his eye. Bolt Buck had been wanting to leave Manehattan for a good long time now, but he never did. She thought, with some conceit, it was because he’d been looking to ask her permission to leave.

“Snowy… I think you and I both know it ain’t right for me to stay. Not after… what I took from you,” he winced, even now the words as painful for him to say as they were for her to hear.

“I think maybe…, maybe if I leave, I can start again. And don’t worry, I swear I’m going straight. I’ll never hurt anyone, ever again. I was hoping you’d be okay with this… if you’d rather I stay somewhere you can keep an eye on me, that’s fine, but…” his voice trailed off as he stared into the distance for a moment.

“Well, can I go?” he asked, still seeming strangely absent, somehow.

“... No word on Primrose?”

Bolt Buck’s expression became frighteningly dark, cold and unfeeling at this.

“Yeah, I seen her, but she ain’t coming with me. She’s half the reason I wanna leave… Primrose is dead to me.”

A pair of station guards strode up to Bolt Buck with a glint in their eyes. “Sir, we have to check your bags. Come with us.”

“Sure… one last thing, Snowy,” he said as he walked off with them.

“When she tells you, don’t hit her too hard. That’s my last favor of you. Goodbye,” he said, walking off before she could even ask what he meant.

* * *

When she approached the manor, everything seemed fine. She knocked on the door, and nobody answered. That was fine, since she had her own key. She walked in, and it was silent. That too was fine.

Dad’s asleep in his study, and Mom’s at her book club. That’s all.

But when she checked the study, there wasn’t a trace of either of them. No note on the fridge, no cup of coffee left idly on the breakfast table, where her father would always leave it… no, it was still fine.

It had to be.

A small panic began to rise within her as she crossed the house, heading for Mosley Orange’s private study. Lacking the only key to the door, she peered inside, finding it as immaculate as ever. Maybe they went to breakfast? Of course. That could explain it, she thought as she began to trot around the manor now, peering inside rooms. They didn’t really know when to expect her back, did they? It could’ve been tomorrow, or the day after for all they knew. They were just out enjoying themselves. What a surprise it would be when they got home, seeing her back. Everypony would have a mug of cocoa, with just a hint of peppermint in it to make it perfect. Even a few of those tiny marshmallows.

It’d be all fine.

No Sis, something’s wrong. You can feel it in your gut, can’t you? This isn’t fine at all…

And in that moment, the calm and composed mare suddenly fell into the sort of frantic, nightmarish panic that only somepony in her current position could feel. She searched every inch of the house, hoping and praying that it was all some cruel joke, that her parents were where they had always been. Her mother would be waiting by the front door with some words of wisdom for the day ahead, or that her father would be out in his favorite part of the groves, helping the workers pick the best oranges for his breakfast. But as she finally turned to the window, there was a heaviness in her heart, a deep, icy despair in the pit of her stomach.

And then she heard the laugh.

It was a cold, cruel laugh that seemed to fall upon her like icy, bitter rain. It floated mockingly from up the stairs, as a beautiful mare walked down, carrying a long leash behind her.

“Do you like the surprise party I’ve thrown for you, Snow Storm?"

A wicked grin spread on the pegasus' face. "Or should I call you… Mare do Well?”"

Chapter One

Author's Note

Merry Christmas, Forest <3

Chapter One

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue… again?” The pegasus cackled at her own joke, stepping deliberately down the stairs, tugging the leash behind her.

“Don’t worry,” the stranger said as she reached the bottom of the staircase. “Your family is safe. For now. Let’s just think of them as… insurance. So you’ll do exactly what I say and when I say it-” The pegasus was cut off as she found herself thrust up against the wall, Snow Storm’s foreleg pressing against her throat.

“Snowy…” a voice called out from the middle the stairs. A voice which sent an icicle down Snow Storm’s spine. It couldn’t be...

The pegasus sputtered, trying to laugh as her windpipe was being strangled. “Why… why are you taking it out on me? It’s too bad Primsy here has barely said a word. She was very talkative when I first picked her up! She’s the one you should be mad at, not me.”

Primrose slowly walked down the stairs, the leash attached to her neck.

“Snowy, I… they were going to kill him, I couldn’t just-”

“You hear that!?” the pegasus taunted, falling into a laughing fit even as Snow Storm nearly strangled her. “Sold you out to save the life of the stallion who killed your own brother!” She cackled madly, and worse, genuinely. “You just can’t make this up!”

Snow Storm slowly lifted her hoof from the pegasus’ throat, turning towards Prim. She felt...nothing. Even when she had fought for her life against Bloodshot, she had felt something. But now it was as if the bonds that had brought them together had been severed in an instant. If Primrose was dying in an alleyway as her brother had, she could just walk away. It was a terrible, horrible thought, but as she stared into the mare’s eyes she knew it was true. She was beyond hating, now.

“I think I’ll just leave you two for now. After all, you must have so much catching up to do… see you later, ‘Snowy’," the pegasus taunted, walking out the door. “Oh! I almost forgot.” She poked her head back inside. “Two nights from now, the park fountain, midnight. And if you even think of going to the Guard, you’ll get your folks back. In pieces. Got it? Good.” And with that, she took off.

“Snowy, I…” Prim began.

“I didn’t mean… I already lost someone I cared about, and s-she was about to kill B-Buck in his hospital room, right in front of me! I had a chance to save him this time, Snowy!”

“Shut your mouth,” Snow Storm said coldly. “All I want to hear from you is who she was and where my family is.”

Prim bit her lip, fighting back tears as she spoke, “Abacus. That’s all I really know. And she never told me where they are.”

“... Tell me you were abducted, tortured, and brainwashed until you couldn’t handle the agony any longer. Tell me that, because I don’t want to think about the alternative.”

Prim shivered in place, more terrified than she had ever been in her life. If she told her what she wanted to hear, maybe she would forgive her, if only slightly… but she would never forgive herself. But if she told her the truth… would she even make it out of there alive? The mare that stared into her eyes was so far from the Snow Storm she had grown up with, it was hard to tell.

But she had to do it.

“Snowy… she told me she’d let him live, but only if I did as she said, and kept her informed of everything you did. The Red Hoof had been two steps ahead all along… and it was all my fault. I put you in danger to save Buck. I wasn’t tortured, or brainwashed.”

“And did you even stop to think that he was lying!?”

“She promised that if I didn’t keep telling her everything, she’d kidnap us both… and make me…” Primrose couldn’t bring herself to finish. “I couldn’t think about letting that happen, so I… I kept doing it.”

“‘Kept’...?” Snow Storm looked at Primrose finally, her eyes filled with disgust. “How long?” she asked quietly.

“These past few months. I was to keep an eye on you, but I did it from a distance. Every conversation between you and Pelleas, in particular. Snowy, I’m as good as dead now anyway, but before I go I’ve learned some things about the Red Hoof you could use against him.”

“Months!?” Snow Storm sent a hoof flying through the wall. Primrose screamed at the outburst. “He’s known for months!?”

“He was biding his time, wanted to make sure you thought you’d won!” Primrose blurted out, feeling herself on the verge of panicking. “That was why he took so long to do this! That, and he wanted to wait until you were out of town first.”

This time, Snow Storm slammed her head against the wall, more in frustration at herself than anything. “So stupid- where do you think you’re going!?” She slammed her hoof on Primrose’s tail, who had been trying to crawl away. “You made this mess. You help clean it up.”

Prim winced, closing her eyes “What do you want me to do?” she said, bracing herself for the same sort of beating she had seen her deliver to those thugs at the cinema a few months ago.

“Go find Bolt Buck. I’ll need him.”

Primrose eyed Snow Storm suspiciously. “He had nothing to do with this… he never asked me to-”

“I said I’ll need him,” Snow Storm repeated, grinding her teeth. By the Goddess, this mare was useless! “And if you try to run away, I’ll find you.”

Primrose nodded. As she turned to leave, she briefly considered asking if, should she somehow manage to get Snow Storm’s parents back, she could ever be forgiven for this.

But a part of her already knew the answer.

Lieutenant Flyntt was hardly one to let the little things bother him- normally, he’d have shrugged off just about anything, but the months after Pelleas’ sudden departure from the guard had managed to get to him. The Fulake had refused each and every new cadet he had been offered, instead turning to his oldest ally in the guard; alcohol. A dozen bottles of different shapes and sizes littered his desk, which was stacked with paperwork he couldn’t bring himself to look at.

“Whaddaya want?” he muttered curtly to the figure by the door, his back turned to them.

“Since when are you a desk jockey?” Lieutenant Aella asked, letting herself in to Flyntt’s rather small office. “And drinking on the job!? You could get tossed for this!”

“Since that cocky little punk just strode outta here like he was too good for us,” Flyntt said, slamming his current bottle onto his desk and turning to her, “I thought he was better than that…”

Aella shrugged. “He disagreed with the Captain’s methods in handling that filly.”

“So what? So did I… difference was I didn’t throw my armor to the ground, like suddenly the idea of being a guard was beneath him. Don’t he realize how many ponies would kill to reach that position? These days we’ve got more recruits tryin’ to sign up than we can handle… but no, that wasn’t good enough for him,” Flyntt spat out, his voice contemptuous. What he wouldn’t give for five minutes with that cocky little brat...

For a wonder, Aella giggled. “Well, you know why he did it, right?”

“Nope,” Flyntt admitted. That much had always bothered him, though he had been too proud to question whether his former subordinate had a decent reason to leave, “I just figured he wanted to change the system, and threw a tantrum the moment he couldn’t have his way.”

“Well, yes,” Aella conceded, sitting down and rubbing her chin thoughtfully. “But more than that, he threw a fit because he was smitten with the Mare do Well. And when the Captain turned right around to arrest her…”

Flyntt finally lowered his bottle to the desk, turning to look at her with bloodshot eyes.

“...Yeah. I guess we all do stupid stuff when we’re in love,” he said, thinking back on the days when he had tried to impress Aella, years ago. “But it’s too late now. The Captain will never let him back in, and the rest of the guys aren’t exactly crazy about him either… I’ll admit, I took his leaving a little more personally than I should’ve, heheh…”

The Fulake turned to his desk, brushing the bottles into a wastepaper basket with a single motion, then finally stood up, joints cricking.

“What do I do, Aella? I can’t let myself go like this… it’s been six months. What do I do?”

“Well first of all, you should go congratulate Murdoc. I bet you haven’t even heard the news, being cooped up in this box behind that stack of papers.”

“What, was the surgery to remove the stick from his ass successful?” Flyntt asked, grinning wryly at her.

“Just about,” Aella replied. “In fact, he’s got himself a Cadet now.”

At this, Flyntt seemed to sober up almost immediately. “Seriously? Murdoc’s been on the force as long as us, and he’s never found a cadet he could stomach, let alone one worth his time… so, who are they?”

“Amber Shield,” she informed him. “Niece of Brass Shield over in Liveryburg. She’s been giving Murdoc a run for his money trying to prove she’s got what it takes to maintain her family’s image.”

“A Shield? No wonder…” Flyntt chuckled, his mood having improved over hearing the news, “So, where is he? I wanna go congratulate him on not scaring off the newbie yet.”

“Well…” Aella shot Flyntt a wink. “He’s probably on his way out, seeing as his shift started and yours ended about ten minutes ago. You really need to keep better track of time.”

“Well then, might as well go have a word… oh, and, erm, Aella…?” he coughed, seeming nervous for some reason.

“Hm?” She cocked her head back as she stood halfway out the door. “Oh, I’d offer to buy you a drink but I see you have that covered quite nicely.”

“I was just wondering if, since you don’t have a cadet yourself, maybe we could partner up, like the old days?”

She cocked her eyebrow. “And this isn’t some subtle attempt to go out searching for Pelleas?”

“I’ll go talk to him some other time, but let’s face facts. As long as Leaf’s in command he’s got a snowball’s chance in Tartarus of becoming a guard again… and I’m more than a little worried he’s still the drama queen that stormed out of here… but none of that matters right now. What do you say?”

“Sounds like fun. I’ve got a feeling this is going to be a busy year anyway.”

“Yeah, me too… Aella, I get the feeling the Red Hoof is far from done with this city…” Flyntt said, following her out of his office.

* * *

“Captain Murdoc, I’ve fetched that coffee you asked for, sir!” An eager young mare saluted him proudly as she stood in front of his desk, which was far neater and more organized than Flyntt’s.

“Lieutenant,” he corrected, magically grasping the styrofoam cup and levitating it to himself.

“Whoops, sorry sir.” She blushed, slapping herself on the forehead. It was the third time she had called him Captain by mistake, but he had been unusually forgiving of it. After all, Amber Shield had an impressive resume for someone of her age, having already served two years in the Liveryburg guard before moving over to Manehattan.

“I looked over the case file like you asked me to, by the way. So far, nothing’s turned up in the case of the missing couple…” Amber Shield sighed, sitting down.

“You seem distracted,” Murdoc said, ignoring her report for now. “Why is that?”

“Well, I’ve been wondering about this ‘Mare do Well’ that the others have been talking about,” she said, turning to him, “is it really safe to let a masked vigilante roam our streets, sir?”

“You tell me,” he replied, tipping the coffee back and drinking. He let out a contented sigh as the coffee warmed him. “As I understand it, she’s been sighted in Liveryburg, too? Or, perhaps, it’s another one?”

“Well, as far as we know it’s another mare entirely,” Amber said. She sat down, but almost immediately stood up and paced the room again. “Though I have no idea what’s going on there… Liveryburg isn’t exactly around the corner, so it’d be a surprise if it was the same mare. For all we know, she was in operation before ‘our’ Mare do Well arrived on the scene…”

Amber Shield turned to her Lieutenant with curiosity plastered on her face. “Sir, I’ve only heard the rumors, but was it all true? That she helped to bring down one of the more dangerous ponies to ever walk our streets just a few months ago?”

“Yes,” Murdoc confirmed. “It was a… long day.”

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Amber got up and opened it, seeing Flyntt outside.

“Sir, Lieutenant Flyntt are here to see you,” she said.

“Way to state the obvious, kid,” Flyntt said, smirking as he walked inside, “So, you’ve finally chosen a cadet then, Murdoc? Congratulations.”

“Yes, she will make a fine Guard,” Murdoc said, causing Amber’s brown face to turn scarlet.

“T-thank you sir!” She saluted once more as he whispered something into her ear. “I’ll go and file my reports right away now,” she said, grabbing the case file from his desk, stuffing them into her saddlebags, and running out of the room.

“Wow, she’s pretty green for a Shield,” Flyntt said, shaking his head as he heard her crash into something outside. “Clumsy too… so, why’d you choose her, Murdoc? A chance to bask in the Shield family legacy?” he teased, throwing his rival a cocky grin.

Murdoc held his tongue - any mention of Pelleas would be an unfair shot, and highly unprofessional.

“Well anyway, Leaf’s been talking with some of the higher-ups, and he’s convinced the Red Hoof is planning something. Something big,” Flyntt said, deciding to change the subject. The air in the room grew stiff as the topic went to him. “From what we can gather, the Orange Family disappearance was his doing. Question is, what is he after, targeting a humble orange grove… it don’t make sense, if you ask me.”

“He’s obviously after something,” Murdoc muttered, finishing his coffee and tossing away the cup. “The bad news is the Captain hasn’t had any contact with him at all.”

“There’s no way the Mare do Well has him beat… he’s been around for decades, one mare isn’t going to bring him down that easily, even if she took down his favorite mad dog… oh, sorry, forgot it was time for your shift. Well, I won’t keep you,” Flyntt said, turning to leave.

Murdoc looked up as Amber stepped back in. “Close the door behind you. There’s another matter we must discuss privately.”

“Yes sir?” she said, closing the door and turning towards him.

“How is Pelleas doing?” Murdoc asked kindly enough. For a split second, he thought he saw a twitch on Amber’s face.

“He’s… getting by,” she said quietly, suddenly unable to make eye contact with her superior. “He’s not doing much these days. Just mopes about my place. All he ever talks about is her,” she said, a trace of bitterness in her voice. “I’ve told him to get a job, but I doubt he will. Frankly, sir? I’m getting tired of how pathetic he’s become… though I’d appreciate it if you kept that particular detail between us.”

“My dear, I hardly make it a habit of nosing into the personal lives of my kin, let alone announcing it to the world.” He looked her sternly in the eye. “I’m merely concerned that it may affect you and your work. It would be a shame if I would have to report any negatives to your uncle.”

“And have you any negatives to report, sir?”

“Only positives. Come now, it’s time to patrol. I’ve heard of an incident at the train station this morning.”

“Yes sir!”

* * *

A pair of guards were already at the scene when Murdoc and Amber Shield arrived. A witness was talking to them, her face white as she relayed the events she had seen.

“A pair of ponies wearing guard uniforms wandered over to this stallion in a cowboy hat, said they needed to check his luggage, but a few minutes later I heard a scream…” she shivered.

“I see… oh, hey Lieutenant. We’ve got a witness here, would you like to take her name, ask a few questions while we secure the crime scene?” one of them asked as Murdoc walked over to them.

“Yes, yes,” he said dismissively, waving a hoof at Amber. “Let’s see how you perform.”

Amber walked up to the witness, smiling companionably. “Cadet Amber Shield, Day Guard, First Shift. What is your name, ma’am?”

“Ember Glow,” the mare answered, “and I’ve been here for about three hours now, ever since it happened…”

“Alright, could you please describe what you saw?”

“Well, there were two ponies dressed in guard uniform, and they escorted a young man down the street there,” she pointed east, far from the station.

“I see... and what did they do?”

Ember Glow shook her head at this, “I don’t know, but whatever it was, he screamed so loudly that I could hear it all the way from over here…”

“Could you give us a description of the ponies involved?”

“Well, one was tall, his coat was greyish-brown and he had hazel colored eyes… the other had a strawberry-blonde mane, he had a slight lisp, and he was rather short… I’m sorry, that’s all I know.”

“Thank you for your assistance with this matter, ma’am,” Amber turned to Murdoc, “Sir, should we search the area the scream was heard from?”

“Yes, go ahead,” Murdoc said in a droning voice. It was good practice for the kid, at least, but he wished longingly for his warm, cozy office. The cold, crisp air of winter never agreed with him or his bad left-front leg.

Amber headed towards the stretch of road the mare had pointed to, only to stare, jaw open as it stretched out into the labyrinthine alleys of the city. The mare was completely unused to these streets, and as she was about to turn back she noticed something that made her freeze on the spot.

“S-sir, we have a blood trail here!” she shouted to her superior, more than a little scared. Two years in Liveryburg had not prepared her for the brutality of Manehattan’s criminals, it seemed.

Murdoc went to investigate.

Primrose felt sick to her stomach as she hung in the middle of the crowd. She knew the big fuss had been about Bolt Buck, and hearing a Guard say ‘blood’ had made her wince. Not in the least because the last time she had even spoken to him, it had turned into a shouting match…

She paced around his apartment, shooting a glance every now and then out the window, just in case that mare had decided to not keep her word. Bolt Buck would be home soon, and then Primrose could tell him the good news. The Red Hoof would never harass him again.

“Hey there Prim,” he grinned, opening the front door as he trotted in merrily, “I still can’t believe it’s finally over… I was certain the Red Hoof was never gonna just let me go like that, now that Bloodshot’s out of the picture. Guess he realized messing with me was also messing with her, haha!”

“Don’t worry, honey.” She smiled brightly, feeling good about herself. “I’ve made sure he won’t bother you ever again.”

“Yeah, I-” he paused, confused. “...Wait. Did you just say you made sure he’d leave me alone? No offense Prim, but I don’t exactly see you making him back off.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” she said, trotting over to the kitchen to fix him up a snack. “I promise, he won’t bug you anymore. He has more important things to deal with now.”

Bolt Buck walked over to her, the slightest trace of concern in his voice, “Er, what exactly do you mean, ‘more important things?’. And why are you so sure he won’t come after me? I mean, I sold him out. Unless we move out of the city, I’ll never be safe. Frankly, it’s a miracle I’m still around right now.”

“What does it matter?” Primrose asked, a little defensively. “I had a run-in with one of his lackeys, and I took care of it. For you.”

“You… ‘took care of it’?” he asked, now walking right up to her, looking her straight in the eye. “Primrose, tell me what you did. Please,” he added, now a tangible hint of dread underlining his words, his gaze never leaving hers for an instant.

She looked quickly and intently down at the food she was preparing for him. “I don’t see why I should,” she said snappishly. “You should just let it go.”

“Prim, if you’ve been talking with the Red Hoof’s guys I need to know what it was about,” he said, putting a hoof on her shoulders, “It’s very, very important that you be honest with me. What did they tell you, and what did you say?” he asked, his expression darkening.

“Nothing that concerns you,” she said shortly, trying to focus on the food.

Buck Bolt pinned her to the wall, a look in his eyes that she had never seen before.

“Primrose, you have no idea what these ponies are capable of!” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral and calm. “They abduct, they torture and they kill. Now frankly I don’t care what they’ve said, but I need to hear what you had to offer them in order to buy my safety. Because whatever it was, it isn’t safe here for us anymore. Now, for the last time… tell. Me. What. They. Said,” he snarled, a nasty underlying hint of a threat to his voice.

“Fine!” she spat, snarling at her coltfriend. Why couldn’t he have just let it go? “They know I’m a friend of the Mare do Well, and they said they’d leave you alone if I told them about her!”

At this, Buck backed away, winded and pale as though he had just taken a crossbow bolt to the heart. He backed into the kitchen wall and slowly, slowly dropped to his haunches, eyes wild and thoughts racing.

“You… you… what?” he managed after a few minutes.

“You heard me! I told them everything I know so you’d be safe!”

“You… you sold out your best friend, the one pony that actually stood a chance of bringing down that damned menace once and for all…” he mumbled before turning away in disgust. “Primrose… why? You know what I did. I killed her brother- your first love! And you sold her out? Don’t you think you owe her more than that?”

“She can take care of herself!” Primrose screamed, baring her teeth in a tight grimace. “And you can’t! Why do you even care? She put you in the hospital for a week!”

“You’re right- I shouldn’t care. You should!” he shouted back, his eyes burning into her. “You’ve been her friend since you were fillies! She trusted you, and you threw it all away… and worst of all, you act as if you should be proud of what you did! As if her safety doesn’t matter to you! As if the safety of the city doesn’t matter! Didn’t you give even a little thought to what the Red Hoof could do to her, you stupid, selfish girl? You think she’s invincible? What’s to stop the Red Hoof from sending a few of his men into her house at night, when she thinks her secret’s nice and safe? Well? WELL?”

“But… I did it for you…” she muttered quietly, staring down at the floor. Her ears drooped, and she began to sniffle.

Bolt Buck turned away, bitter, angry tears forming in his eyes.

“I know. I love you, Primrose. I always will. But I can’t overlook this. What you’ve done to her… someday, you might do it to me, too. Or maybe you won’t. I’ll never know, and that’s what scares me. I can’t trust you anymore.”

Bolt Buck turned, heading to the front door, grabbing his hat from the rack and sighing, turning to her one last time.

“Have you got anything else to say? Might as well make it count. We’ll never meet again.”

“Just… everything might be okay anyways. It’s been months since I told and nothing’s-”

“I don’t want to hear it. Your excuses, your half-truths… you laughed with me, loved me, looked me straight in the eye for all this time, and it was a lie. If you had even the decency to tell me straight off the bat, I might have forgiven you by now, but you didn’t… no wonder you quit your job.”

“Fine then!” she snapped, throwing a dish at Bolt Buck’s face and causing him to duck. Tears were spilling down her cheeks now. “Go! Who needs a murderer anyway!?”

“You did,” he managed, his voice cracking slightly when he finally spoke again, “You needed me for six long months, so badly that you sold her out to do it.”

Perhaps later on all of this would turn out to be a bad dream, some nasty illusion. Perhaps he would wake with a jolt, and the Primrose he had loved would be by his side, as sweet and innocent as the day he had met her.

But it was raining outside, and in that moment he knew in the deep pit of his stomach that that moment would never come. It never rained in his dreams.

At that moment, Primrose felt a hoof on her shoulder. A voice she could barely recognize made her blood freeze. She turned around and saw the wild eyes of Bolt Buck glaring at her, his hooves stained with blood. Thankfully, the crowd was ignoring them in favor watching what the Guards were doing.

“Where is she?” he muttered darkly.

Snow Storm paced the study of her parent’s mansion, a thousand busy thoughts jostling for attention as she desperately tried to piece together what Abacus had said to her.

Two days, fountain… by Epona, what evil is she going ask of me…?

Primrose had likely fled the city by now, the mare thought. The very mention of her name making her stomach churn, a series of cruel, vicious fantasies against the treacherous mare playing in her mind as she tried desperately to calm herself. She could only recall one time she had felt this scared, this powerless… and the memory made her send a hoof crashing into the wall, splintering the plaster.

“Snow Storm!” The voice of Bolt Buck desperately called from the front door, along with hard, loud knocking.

“It’s open,” she called back, slipping out of the study and into the main foyer. Only family was allowed in that precious study.

“-was attacked at the station, knocked one out, the other got away… it was a heck of a close call…” he said breathlessly, collapsing into a chair. “I’m sorry about Prim, by the way. I’d have never have approved, if she had told me sooner maybe… well, maybe things would be different right now.”

Snow Storm cocked her eyebrow at him. “You didn’t ask her to do this?

“As far as I know, she was told that if she didn’t comply, I’d be killed. She didn’t really think about this very much at all… outside of saving me, she ignored the consequences. And I’m sorry to say I’m not sure what I would have told her, if she had asked me beforehand. I don’t want to die.”

“Yet you were attacked this morning anyway, if what you said was true,” Snow Storm pointed out humorlessly. “So much for her grand heroics.”

“If she had told you right away… what would you have done? At the very least, you could have prepared for this. Instead, she kept us both in the dark, for six damn months… she’s not who I thought she was, that’s for sure.”

“The time for ‘what-ifs’ is over,” she said sharply. “You have experience with the Red Hoof - where would he take those he kidnapped?”

“Well, they’re not in the city anymore, that’s for sure,” Bolt Buck said, pacing around the room. “And traditionally, he’d take his hostages far away. Could be as far as Griffin Country…”

Bolt Buck sighed, staring at her for a moment before shaking his head. “What exactly are you going to do? He’s got you in a checkmate."

“I… don’t know,” Snow Storm admitted, falling to her haunches in a slump and scowling at that metaphor. Now I really hate chess. “I have no leads… this city is huge, let alone Equestria. What do you know about the mare named Abacus?”

Bolt Buck racked his brain for a moment; it had been a long time since he’d met the mare, and even then it was only a brief encounter. “Abby… she’s damn smart, from what I know. The head of most of the Red Hoof’s operations… she’s a big part of the reason he’s so untouchable. They say she’s the only one knows who he really is… and she’s pure evil. A cold, calculating bitch that is capable of any cruelty. You saw the Mayor, didn’t you? She did that to him herself,” he said, a mixture of fear and disgust in his voice. “Why? What’s she got to do with this?”

“She’s going to make me do… well, something,” Snow Storm answered. Her ears drooped and she shuddered at the very thought of what Abacus would ask of her. “She’s using the Oranges as leverage against me. If I don’t do what she asks…”

“Ah,” said Bolt Buck with a frown. “Blackmail always was one of the Red Hoof’s best weapons. So, what’re you going to do about it?”

Snow Storm bit her bottom lip in a futile attempt to keep it from trembling. “The… the only thing I can do,” she said, fighting back a sob with all the strength she could muster. Even that was a losing battle, for her eyes began to shimmer with tears.

“I have to do what she says.”

Flyntt knocked on the door to Captain Leaf’s office, more than a little nervous. The Captain had become obsessed with bringing down the Red Hoof once and for all ever since the events of a few months prior.

I haven’t seen him this worked up in years… hope he hasn’t forgotten about his kid, Flyntt thought to himself as he waited outside the room.

“Come,” said a sultry voice unlike the Captain’s. Gilded Leaf’s face was sunken; a pair of bags hung beneath his eyes, as though he’d been working several shifts without sleep. Flyntt wouldn’t have been surprised if this were true.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Flyntt asked, cocking his head curiously. He'd been asked into Captain Leaf's office after his shift had ended, which was rarely ever a good sign.

"Bad news." Captain Leaf slid a note to Flyntt, scowling. "A development in the disappearance of the Oranges. I knew that bastard was behind it..."

His gut filling with dread as well as confusion, Flyntt turned the note around to read it:

'Dearest esteemed Captain of the Guard,

It will inevitably come to your attention that the Orange family is 'missing'. Rest assured that they are being well taken care of. For now, at least. My only condition for their safety is your unwavering understanding in the fact that the Mare do Well now works for me, and will continue to do so as I see fit.

She is mine now.

If it ever comes to my attention that the Guard is, in fact, aiding the Mare do Well in an attempt to undermine me, there will be consequences. To you, to this city, and especially to a lovely couple whose only crime was harboring the greatest thorn in my side. What a shame that would be, yes? Despite my financial endorsements elsewhere, nothing beats a citrus fruit from the Orange grove.

Yours truly,'

Where a signature would normally be, there was a stamp, recognized as the Red Hoof's mark.

“Damn it…” Flyntt sighed, screwing up the letter and throwing it away, “I suppose your orders are to apprehend the Mare do Well on sight, sir?” he asked. Before the Captain could say anything, however, Flyntt burst out with something he had been holding back for months. “Also, I have to apologize for the actions of my subordinate. Apparently I didn’t teach him to respect the system nearly well enough…”

“This is a delicate situation, Lieutenant,” Leaf said calmly, though there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth. “I only brought you in here because you are one of the few Guards who know who she really is. We must assume the Red Hoof knows who she is, as well.” Captain Leaf’s gaze hardened, causing Flyntt to flinch slightly. “Your ex-subordinate also knows who she is. And he would jeopardize everything by trying to help her. I highly doubt that the Red Hoof would care about such trivialities as the fact that Pelleas is no longer one of us. He’s a wildcard now, and must be stopped.”

Captain Gilded Leaf stood up, staring out the window at the rising sun. Manehattan seemed to gain some sort enchanting beauty at sunrise, with the sun glinting off the buildings. He held the winter in especially high regard - Manehattan shone white with fresh snowfall. Even at this early hour, the streets were full of bundled ponies and winterized carriages going about their lives.

“I don’t care how much you hate him now, I want him found. And I want him kept away from the Mare do Well at all costs.”

“Sir, before I go… what should I tell Pelleas? He’s been obstinate about not returning ever since he left, and I’m not sure he’ll even listen to me… should I arrest him?”

“At all costs,” Leaf repeated firmly.

“Yes sir,” Flyntt said, with a hint of reluctance in his voice.