Daring Do and the Lost Tome of Shadows

Chapters

Chapter 1: A Daring Proposal
Chapter 2: Welcome to the Jungle
Chapter 3: Dealing with Magic Users
Chapter 4: Heights
Chapter 5: Depths
Chapter 6: Shattered Bedrock
Chapter 7: Silly Filly
Chapter 8: Bottled Life
Chapter 9: Breaking Through
Chapter 10: The Tome of Shadows
Chapter 11: Infernal Blast
Chapter 12: The Librarian
Chapter 13: Betrayal
Chapter 14: Don't F*ck with Apples
Chapter 15: The Southern Orchard
Epilogue

Chapter 1: A Daring Proposal

Rock Gambit was lucky to be alive. If Daring Do had her way, that luck would run out.

Daring struggled through the narrow tunnel, furiously blinking sweat from her eyes. She was covered in scratches and dirt, and she was pretty sure that she was leaving a trail of torn feathers behind her. Light came from a small opening in the floor at the end of the tunnel, as did the sounds of a rat-bastard horn-humping two-bit thief whistling to himself as he inspected the chamber.

Daring pulled herself up to the opening. Looking down from her vantage point high above, Daring could just make out Rock’s silhouette dancing back and forth across the temple wall as his torch flickered and sputtered. She shoved some loose rock out of the way, careful not to drop any down into the chamber, and crawled forward, seeking a better view. She had very little room to maneuver, and if she dropped down now, Rock would see her. In her condition, Daring didn’t have a hope of beating Rock in a fair fight, so she paused, tried to slow her breathing, and fumed. She was angry and tired and she stung all over. Adding that she’d had to leave her saddlebags behind and that Rock had taken her torch, it was no wonder she’d been unable to come up with a plan.

No matter. She didn’t want a plan—she wanted to beat Rock until he couldn’t walk straight. And Rock’s torch lit the chamber well enough. It was a large room, with stone pillars tracing the walls, and a beautifully tiled floor marking the way.

Rock stepped into view. He placed the torch in a stone brazier, slid his saddlebags to the ground, and reached back to dig through them, looking for something. Daring Do craned her neck down through the hole in the floor, slowly, and watched her prey. After a moment the Earth Pony pulled out a small, leather-bound notebook and held it up to the light.

The real treasure.

Sure, the sparkling, smoky red ruby on the pedestal at the far side of the room was invaluable, doubtlessly ancient, and breathtakingly beautiful; and she definitely wanted the recognition and fame of discovering a bastion of truly forgotten history; but Daring Do recognized immediately the notebook held in front of the stallion. The writing between its covers held the keys to finding countless more artifacts, temples, tombs, and even the tiniest of caves once inhabited by the indigenous ponies of this land. Its notes spanned over a century’s worth of work, passed down from parents to child and paid for with sweat and blood and tears by some of the world’s greatest archaeologists.

And Daring Do was gonna get it back.

“This writing’s awful!” the stallion groaned, flicking through the pages. His gravelly voice and rich, warm drawl were all too familiar. “So much useless junk! Why not spell it out? Why so many riddles?”

So you can’t read it, Daring thought. Though you’re right about the writing.

The pony shook his head, then alternated between scanning the floor and the walls, and reading the journal. It would explain in enough detail how to make it across, sacred knowledge even Daring had forgotten, and as much as she wanted to think otherwise, Rock Gambit was smart enough to decode it.

“Let’s see here . . . ” Rock muttered, and looked around the chamber. Near the entrance sat a chunk of fallen ceiling tile, heavy and dusty. Daring held her breath as he passed right underneath her hiding spot to reach it. Rock turned and kicked it into the hall. It landed in the middle but, as they waited, nothing happened. Maybe he was too lucky, and had hit a safe tile? Or—

Then the tile sank into the floor with a click, and a small spark shot out from the edges of the tile, leading a brilliant flare of white fire as tall as a pony that seemed to go on and on. A pony stepping on that would’ve been roasted.

“Alright. Ah suppose that’s expected.” Rock double-checked something in the notebook, then nodded, returned the notebook to his saddlebags, and focused once more on the tiled floor.

Though wary of leaving the ruby in the raider’s possession, Daring Do couldn’t risk losing the journal. Instead, she’d wait until Rock Gambit had made his way to the pedestal. Then, while the stallion was busy admiring the relic, Daring Do would float down, grab the journal, and crawl back through her tunnel. If she was quiet enough, and if the ruby proved enough of a distraction, he wouldn’t notice the missing book until he made his way back.

It was a horrible plan, she had to admit, but so was rushing up and teaching him a lesson in friendship with her hooves. The tricky part, of course, was the room itself. Almost every tile sat atop a small pile of fast-burning powder and a snapstone, designed to incinerate anypony unlucky enough to step on it. Though Daring Do herself was out of danger where she was, the path to the gem was quite dangerous. Even so, Daring Do knew Rock could make it safely across. Lucky bastard.

“Don’t move a muscle, my friend,” Rock growled at the ruby, his foreign voice loud in the otherwise still-as-dead chamber.

Daring Do held her breath as the pony stood, shook the stiffness from his shoulders, and headed towards the tiled floor of the main chamber. Finally! Once he had made his way far enough through the tricky flooring—

“Whoops. Can’t forget you!” Rock said. With a plummeting gut Daring Do watched Rock Gambit turn, reach into his saddlebags, and grab the journal in his jaw.

Damnit! Daring Do leaned back from the hole and took a slow, quiet breath. She needed a new plan, and fast. Her only real advantage over Rock—her wings—was useless in the cramped space of the temple. Rock Gambit was crafty and if he made it outside and disappeared Daring Do would never find him. Whatever she was going to do, it had to be now, and it had to be fast.

Daring Do looked again, and watched as the stallion gingerly stepped out onto the first tile, leaning way back and barely putting any weight on it. Judging from the sigh of relief Rock let out when nothing happened, even he didn’t fully trust his luck. He slowly put more weight on the tile, and once balanced he started looking for the next. Daring carefully pushed a pebble over the edge and listened carefully. The pebble made a small crack when it landed, but Rock gave it no notice, utterly focused on avoiding the traps. It was Daring Do’s only chance.

As quietly as she could, she squeezed her way out of the small tunnel, wincing with every motion. Once she had one foreleg out she used it to pull herself farther. When she was free of the tunnel she fell, catching herself at the last moment with a great gust of wind. Rock didn’t seem to notice, as he took another careful step, a little more confidently. Daring Do had maybe a minute before Rock made it to the ruby.

Briefly she thought of flying up behind Rock Gambit and catching him off guard, but if he misstepped even once then they’d be the main dishes at a gryphon feast. She’d be better off waiting until he made it to the raised platform. Looking around, she spotted a large rock, and she spent a few moments wondering if she should just throw it blindly and let luck figure things out.

Of course, luck would probably figure things out in his favor—or her notebook would be incinerated.

Another step, then another. Rock Gambit had figured out the pattern, but more importantly he trusted the pattern too. Daring Do couldn’t simply wait for Rock Gambit to make it back and hope to stay hidden, not with the way the room was laid out, and with a not-so-hidden passage at the rear and not-too-subtle clues to its whereabouts in her notebook, the raider might not even come back this way. Two tiles left.

Subtlety and patience had had their turn, she decided. Time for initiative and hooves.

Daring Do quietly lifted off the ground and, hoping against hope that Rock wouldn’t turn around, started floating over. Rock Gambit leapt the last step and landed on the platform above the tiles, with the pedestal in the middle. Daring Do flapped harder, picking up speed, and tried to angle herself so she’d come at him from the side, and hopefully keep either of them from tumbling back onto the trapped floor.

She could see Rock Gambit pausing as he grabbed the journal from his mouth, head cocked to the side, ears flicking. Daring Do wasn’t being subtle. Rock turned, looked over his shoulder, eyes wide in the flickering torchlight, opened his mouth, yelled, “Hay, Rainbow Dash!”

“Shit!” the cloud above Applejack yelped. She watched a small object tumble end over end from the cloud, landing with a thud a few meters away.

A startled face appeared over the edge, then turned sour when its owner realized what had happened.

Applejack called up, “Crap! Ah’m sorry, Rainbow!”

Rainbow Dash leaned back and slid through her cloud, falling towards the ground. She stopped at the last moment with a pump from her mighty wings, sending dust and pebbles scattering, and hovered at eye level.

Applejack walked up to the object that had landed in the grass ahead of her. It was a book, and it had landed cover up. It looked familiar. “Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith. Is that new?” she asked.

Rainbow grabbed the book from the ground and brushed a clump of dirt from it. “No, I’ve read it before. It’s one of my favorites.” She smiled a huge grin. “Daring Do is searching for the Metalsmith’s Ruby, a source of powerful fire magic stolen from the heart of a dying Dragon, but her rival betrays her, and she has to escape, and they duke it out in a tiny chamber, but it’s full of traps, and it’s so awesome! And the ancient foundry is super creepy, too—full of broken golems and dragon bones—gives me the chills.”

Applejack rolled her eyes and chuckled. “How can a book you’ve already read give ya the chills? Y’already know what happens.”

Rainbow shook her head, slowly floating around Applejack. “It’s not about the surprise. The temple is full of ancient carvings, empty underground chambers, tight passages, and dark and dangerous and hot the whole time.” She hugged the book close and kicked her legs. “I’ve reread all the books, and they never get old.”

“How many are there?”

“Fourteen so far, and five shorts—but A. K. Yearling’s already writing the next one, and they say it’s gonna be her best yet.”

Applejack thought she caught a tiny twitch in Rainbow’s right eye. Interesting . . . “What’s it gonna be about?”

“Nopony knows what Daring’s gonna do next. Yearling keeps her books wrapped up pretty tight until they’re released.”

“And you’ve been rereading yours, waiting for the next book.”

“Yeah, like five times now.” Twitch.

Applejack whistled. “Five times? You must really like reading those books, huh?”

“Oh yeah. I get so bored without them. I can’t wait for the next book. It’s gonna be so awesome!” she exclaimed, spinning in place.

“So when’s it due—”

“Another adventure, deep in the jungle, or maybe an expedition to the desert, or—”

“Yeah, but when’s it—”

“Dodging traps, beating up minions—”

“When’s—”

“It’s been pushed back!” Rainbow wailed, burying her face in her book and sobbing all over it. “Nopony knows how long it’s gonna be!”

Applejack couldn’t help but smirk. “Aw, come now. It’s not that bad.”

Rainbow paused, peering over her hooves at Applejack. AJ continued, “At least you know she’s writin’ another book. Eventually she’s gotta stop—”

“You shut your mouth,” Rainbow Dash growled, glaring at Applejack.

Applejack took a step back. “Uh huh . . . Ah’m heading over to Twilight’s for a moment. If yer so bored, you can come with me.” She chuckled. “An’ if yer real bored, you could help me get a jump on lotsa chores.”

Rainbow Dash scowled. “I bet Daring Do doesn’t do chores.”

“Uh huh.” Applejack started walking towards town.

“How could she?” Dash continued. “She’s not stuck at home, she’s got treasure to hunt! Bad guys to catch!” She hugged her book and her grin was back. “And Daring Do is so awesome! Watching her soar through the air, swing on vines, dodge traps, steal back priceless artifacts just because they belong in a museum—so cool!”

“You can fly, too, ya know,” Applejack pointed out.

Rainbow Dash sighed, landing in front of Applejack. “Duh, Applejack, I can fly too. I can also swing on ropes, and I sneak around basically all the time. It’s how it’s written—Daring Do is adventurous, fierce, and undeniably, unquestionably unstoppable!” she exclaimed, striking a pose.

“That’s funny, because up until now Ah would’a said the same thing about you, Dash. But if Daring Do’s as bang up as ya say, then she must be cooler than you.”

Rainbow didn’t bite. “The only difference between Daring Do and me is that she gets to bomb around exotic locations, fight bad guys, rescue some hunk, and save the day.”

“That’s four—”

“If it were more exciting around Ponyville, you know I’d be right in the thick of it.”

Applejack looked around. “Ah think Ponyville’s had its share of excitement to last a while. Discord? The parasprites? That … rash everypony got?” She winced.

Rainbow ignored her. “Just imagine! Buried deep in the Everfree—uh, Jungle, full of predators and crisscrossed with rivers and chasms, there’s an unexplored and forgotten city.” She waved a hoof to encompass the horizon. “And underneath, behind secret doors and dangerous traps is . . . uh . . . is the . . . ”

“Is what?”

“I’m thinking!” Rainbow Dash scrunched her face up and concentrated. “Inside is the Lost Tome, a warlock’s spellbook of unimaginable power, and the bad guys are trying to find it to take over the world.” She puffed out her chest and strutted up in front of Applejack. “And only Daring Do can stop them. Aw, yeah! That’d be so fun. Hey. Hey!” She leaned close and grinned. “Wanna go on an adventure?”

“Pardon?”

“Yeah! We could go exploring, and look for treasure!”

“Look for treasure?” Applejack asked, eyebrows climbing up inside her hat. “Around here? Ponyville ain’t exactly known for its history of rich ponies losing their valuables, unless yer talking about Rarity’s silly gems.”

“Aw, c’mon, AJ, it’ll be fun! I’ll be Daring Do, adventurer extraordinaire, with lightning reflexes, nerves of steel, and an attitude to match, and you can be—”

“Her bumblin’ sidekick?” Applejack shook her head. “Pass. Ah’m not gonna spend my day being yer lackey.”

“No, no, not a sidekick. You can be Rock Gambit.” Rainbow Dash waggled her eyebrows.

“Who’s Rock Gambit?”

Dash nodded seriously. “Let me tell you about Rock Gambit,” she said, and wrapped a foreleg around Applejack’s withers. “Rock Gambit is Daring Do’s rival. He’s not as awesome, obviously, but Daring Do is always having to watch her back for treachery. Rock is from across the ocean, but they both travel the world looking for treasure and relics, so they wind up crossing paths a lot. More than once has Daring Do had her plans foiled by Rock. See, he’s a tomb raider, not an adventurer.”

She flipped through the pages of her book and held it open. “That means he’s in it for the glory and the money, but the tombs are still dangerous and Rock Gambit wouldn’t be Daring Do’s rival without being pretty good, I think.”

Applejack read a little and tilted her head. “Ya want me to play yer rival—in a game of make-believe?”

“Sure! It’ll be awesome!”

“Why would we be workin’ together if we don’t like each other?”

“Rock and Daring work together all the time. They just don’t trust each other.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow.

Rainbow said, “Oh! I know! We both know a little bit about how to get the treasure. You know how to navigate the traps, while I know where the temple is. We got stranded when our boat was attacked by pirates, then again by sea monsters, and we’ll have to work together to get to the temple, steal the treasure, and make it out alive.” She did a little dance. “Oh, it’s gonna be so great!”

Applejack wondered just how desperate Rainbow Dash was to escape her boredom. She sighed. “Well . . . Playin’ make believe’s not really mah thing.”

“Aw, come on!”

“Nope.”

“I’ll be your friend!”

“Nope.”

“Oh, you’re mean!”

“Eeyup.”

“Applejack! I’m bored! Please?” Rainbow hovered right close to Applejack and pouted, eyes watering.

Time for the hook. “Maybe—”

“Aw, yeah!” Rainbow said, and did a backflip.

“—On one condition: you get to be mah chore-horse tomorrow. Ah sit back, watch ya work, and administer any extra . . . motivation that may be required.” She grinned. “That means—”

“I know what that means,” Dash said, eyes narrowing. “I’ve watched you do your chores. They’re not that bad.”

Applejack cocked an eyebrow. “‘Not that bad’? Let’s see. You’ll be muckin’ out the chicken coop, feedin’ the animals, milkin’ the cows, collectin’ eggs, and doin' lots and lots of repairs on the barn.” Applejack walked around her, trying to keep the grin from her face as she imagined her day off.

Rainbow Dash landed in front of Applejack, blocking her path again. “You spend the rest of the day on an kick-ass adventure with me, and I do your chores tomorrow?”

“That’s the deal,” Applejack said, heart racing. “I’d make you buck the southern orchard, too, but it’s tricky.”

“For real?”

“Well, Ah suppose if you want the sourthern orchard—”

“You’d really have an adventure with me?”

“Would Ah lie?”

Dash grinned. “Deal.”

Not far from where Daring Do and Rock Gambit were planning their adventure, a wild and dangerous mage was experimenting with new abilities.

“Hold still, Spike.”

“I’m—I’m trying, Twilight! Hurry up! I can’t keep my balance like this!”

“Okay. On three.” Twilight closed her eyes. “One.” Her horn erupted with a shower of sparks, and her wings pumped hard, lifting her off the ground. “Two.”

“Wait! Like, on three? Or, ‘One, two, three, then the spell’?”

“On three! I just said—”

“Yeah, but the last time—”

“Three!”

A glow of magic erupted from her horn. A spot on the ground just to the left of Spike burst into flames. Spike yelped, jumping to the side, and scrambled to see if he was on fire.

Twilight Sparkle landed clumsily and swore. That was the fifth clump of dirt she’d incinerated this afternoon, and it didn’t help that her knees were getting tender from the rough landings.

“Uh, Twilight? Can we stop now?”

“Not yet, Spike. I’ve got to figure out how to compensate for aerodynamic drift.” She consulted a checklist that floated beside her. “We’re only at the fifth of twelve identified conflicts. Pegasus magic interferes with spell casting and it’s throwing all my spells out of whack.”

Spike gulped. “You’re telling me.”

“One more try, Spike. C’mon, on the ball.”

“Um . . . ”

“On. The. Ball.”

“Twilight . . . ” Spike whined, looking at the mess of deflated balls around them. “I don’t think this is gonna work.”

“There’s a fire ruby in it for you,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, you mean like this one?” Spike asked. He pulled one out from wherever he pulled spare scrolls, chomped down on it, and burped an impressive jet of flame.

“Spike!”

Spike crossed his arms and shook his head.

“Fine!” She stomped her hoof. “Fine.”

“Isn’t there some other way you can practice your magic?”

“No, Spike! When I cast spells for myself I can’t test my improvisation skills or my reaction time. It doesn’t matter how well I can cast when I’m focused, it only matters what I can do in more unpredictable and stressful situations.”

Small fires smoldered around them.

“Do you have to learn this now?” he asked. “You’ve been practising for days!”

“The Summer Sun Celebration is only eighty-nine hours away! Who knows what sinister plot will require me to save the day? Remember what happened during our first Summer Sun Celebration in Ponyville?”

“ . . . You think Nightmare Moon is going to return? During the Celebration?” Spike asked, clearly not convinced. “Again?”

Twilight opened her mouth to correct him—Nightmare Moon was a corruption of Princess Luna—but Spike had a point. It was extremely unlikely that a dangerous spirit from the Void would infest the Princess’ mind in a bid to destroy the Sun; admittedly, it was unlikely that anything would happen. She was simply trying to ignore the uncomfortable fact that she’d fallen down on her studies, ever since her coronation ceremony. Just getting used to flying was a big deal, and having to relearn the basics had put her back a few steps. Twilight was certainly used to struggling with her magic, but she had to start practicing now or else risk never starting.

Spike was still talking: “ . . . not even in Ponyville this year.”

Before she could try to lure Spike onto another ball, a pair of voices caught her attention. She turned and looked up the path: cresting over the hill were Rainbow Dash and Applejack, arguing as usual. From the tone of their voices, Dash was trying to convince Applejack of something—

“ . . . so awesome . . . ”

—while it sounded like Applejack remained thoroughly unconvinced—

“ . . . uh huh . . . ”

Thankful for the distraction, Twilight smiled and trotted over, leaving Spike to pout on his own. “Hi, girls!”

“Twilight!” Applejack smiled, interrupting Rainbow Dash and hurrying over. “Ah was just lookin’ fer ya. Ah wanted to show you—” She paused and looked at the small brush fires and burst plastic. “You, uh, doin’ some sort of experiment?”

“Oh! No, just running through some basic magic: levitation, projection, manipulation.” She smiled. “Nothing unusual.”

“Uh huh,” Applejack said, cocking an eyebrow.

Twilight sighed. “Actually, I’m checking the effects Earth Pony and Pegasus magic have had on my spellcasting.”

“Ah’m assuming they’re getting along like water and grease?”

“Well . . . ” Twilight tapped her hoof and sighed. “To be honest, ever since ascending, some of my magic has gone a little haywire,” she explained. “Pegasus and Earth Pony magic don’t react well with Unicorn magic—or with each other—so a simple levitation spell interferes with flight, for example. Or a transfiguration interferes with growth magic.” She pointed absently at one of the fires. “It’s like learning to use a different Unicorn’s horn instead of my own.”

“Aw, cheer up, Twi. Sounds like growing pains. It’s only been a couple weeks. Princess Celestia and Princess Luna have had thousands of years to figure it all out. Ya can’t beat yerself up over this.”

Sure I can, Twilight thought wryly, plastering a smile on her face. “Thanks.”

“Anyways, Ah wanted to show you this!” Applejack removed her hat and pulled a rolled-up sheet of paper from its crown. “Your magic may be on the fritz, but you were an excellent tutor for Apple Bloom.”

Twilight read the homework, and the assigned grade, and her smile grew more genuine. “This is wonderful! I’m so glad.”

“Thank you for your help with her homework,” Applejack said. “Would you like to keep it? Applebloom thought you might.”

“Yes, please. And anytime! Really.”

“Well, now that you mention it—”

“Alright, enough sap.” Rainbow shoved Applejack out of the way and said, “Twilight! Applejack could totally be Rock Gambit, right? Tell her!”

“Huh?” She looked back and forth between the two, then at the book held in Rainbow’s hoof. “Oh. Let’s see.” Twilight closed her eyes and thought back over the most recent adventures, then inspected Applejack. “Well, Rock is athletic. Determined. Skilled with a rope.”

Applejack couldn’t take a compliment without blushing.

Twilight continued, “But honest? Sense of family and commitment? Humble? Rainbow Dash, Applejack would make a terrible Rock Gambit.” She looked at Applejack. “No offense, but Rock is usually a very bad friend.”

Rainbow Dash huffed and rolled her eyes. “What about in Desert Tomb, where Rock learns about Daring Do’s tragic past, and comforts her?”

“You mean when Rock was lying through his teeth?”

“Sure, but Daring Do knew that. What about in River of the Ages, when Rock helps Daring save all those sailors, even though it means giving up the Jewel of Eternity?”

“Rock did it to save himself. He even threw one of those sailors overboard!”

“In Wasteland Guardians, the two of them team up to defeat Ahuizotl!”

“Rock wouldn’t’ve helped Daring if his country wasn’t also being threatened. You know that!”

“You’re not helping,” Rainbow grumped. “Anyways, who cares? We’re gonna have an adventure—”

“A fake adventure,” Applejack objected.

“—looking for the Lost Tome—”

“Fake Lost Tome.”

“Just because we’ll have to imagine some of it doesn’t make it less awesome!”

“Some of it? Twilight, will you zap some sense into her? Y’all can’t just wander around the forest and pretend yer tryin’ to discover some ruby of fire—”

“Metalsmith’s Ruby,” both Rainbow and Twilight corrected.

“Oh, forget you both.”

“Actually, Applejack, I think an afternoon of roleplaying is a great way to relax and have some fun—a safe adventure that’s as exciting as you want it to be.” Twilight smiled innocently. “For example, Rainbow Dash spends plenty of time pretending to lead a Wonderbolts practmmpf—”

“Haha, Twilight, why do you lie like that?” Rainbow asked nervously, her hoof in Twilight’s mouth.

Applejack laughed. “Really? Talkin’ to ponies that ain’t there? Teachin’ thin air how to do loopy loops? Ha!”

Twilight knocked the hoof from her mouth and continued, “And Applejack, your brother told me you had an invisible Pegasus friend who flew through the orchard and pointed out which trees were the best for bucking.”

Applejack glared at her. “That was years—Just a filly—Ah’ll kill him!” she snorted, kicking at the ground and looking back towards her farm. Beside them, Rainbow Dash tumbled with laughter.

Twilight cleared her throat. “I enjoy roleplaying as well. It’s useful as a creative exercise, and as a tool for problem solving. There’s nothing foalish about it at all.”

“Yeah, Applejack,” Dash snorted, trying to keep a straight face. “Invisible friends totally aren’t foalish. Twilight said so!”

“Go on, Applejack. Go play pretend with Rainbow Dash. The Daring Do adventures are kinda predictable, but they’re fun and different, too. And I know today’s your day to clean the loft, which never takes as long as you think it will, so you’re done for the day—right?”

Applejack hung her head in defeat. “Yeah, Ah guess.” She looked up at Twilight, and asked with narrowed eyes, “How’d you know Ah had to clean the loft today?”

Twilight grinned. “I keep charts!”

“See? Even Twilight thinks it’s a good idea. Let’s go!”

“What, right now? Don’t’cha need, like, a map or something?”

Rainbow Dash gasped, eyes wide. “You’re right! I knew I was forgetting something!”

She leapt into the air and rocketed off, the air rumbling as it rushed to make way. Twilight watched her disappear into the sky, a hoof to her forehead to block the sunlight.

Head craned back to watch, Applejack asked, “What’s she up to now?”

“Getting your gear, I think,” Twilight answered absently. “There she is.”

Rainbow Dash plummeted towards the ground, slamming to a halt just above the grassline so suddenly Twilight would’ve sworn she’d actually crashed if she didn’t then saunter over, saddlebags bulging. “Here you go!”

“What’s this?” Applejack asked.

“Our gear!” She hefted a pair of saddlebags up and over Applejack’s back, then shoved her forehead into Applejack’s shoulder. “C’mon. I wanna find some treasure!” she urged.

Applejack sighed and let Dash push her towards the forest. Over her shoulder she called back, “You gonna be okay, Twilight?”

“It’s fine,” Twilight said, ignoring the small brush fires surrounding her. “Everything is fine.”

She watched the two adventurers wander off and pursed her lips in heavy thought. Rainbow Dash was right, of course—Daring Do was adventurous, risky, and cool. Very cool. Twilight had read the same books and couldn’t help but share an appreciation for a well-written protagonist.

“Come on, Spike. Enough practice for today. Spike?” She looked around. He wasn’t in sight. “Where did you go?”

Twilight glared instead at the little deflated ball, then sighed. “You’re going to have double chores when you get back, mister.”

The ball ignored her.

After cleaning up her little arena and extinguishing the brush fires, she turned and headed back to town. The walk back into Ponyville was short enough that she didn’t bother flying; soon she could see the Golden Oaks Library. In the distance, a small purple shape raced out the front door, likely towards the Boutique. She admired his audacity, at least.

A checklist appeared in her mind as she walked.

Situations: A) Rainbow Dash and Applejack are playing make-believe. They have entirely different imaginations. B) Rainbow Dash idolizes Daring Do, and is likely jealous of the fame the character gets. C) Applejack wants to spend time with Rainbow Dash but doesn’t usually play such abstract games. Problems—

She frowned.

Problems: A) Unless they’re very lucky, their adventure won’t live up to their imaginations and they’ll get bored. (Additional situation: D) Daring Do books, while enjoyable, are formulaic and predictable (Implication: The villains are formulaic and predictable.))

The items in her checklist each took the form of a jigsaw puzzle piece, clicking together nicely. All she needed was to fill the holes in the picture. Pegasus and Earth Pony magic may have screwed up her basic casting, but her ability to list away had not been impaired in the slightest.

Goals: A) Make their adventure live up to their imaginations. B) Give them an adventure that isn’t formulaic or predictable.

She opened the door to her home and entered, deep in thought.

Solutions—

Her thought processes ground to halt as the state of the library registered. The curtains were drawn, dimming the light and trapping in the heat. Little wonder she’d slept so late. At her hooves were a scattering of books; small piles of publications mixed with volumes and ledgers dotted the floor. A single shaft of sunlight penetrated the room, throwing dark shadows on the wall behind—she looked up and up, leaning back, eyes wide—behind towering spires of knowledge reaching for the ceiling towards the back.

She gulped sheepishly. “Gotta cut back on the late-night studying . . . ” she chuckled nervously, not for the first time, and pushed her way through the mess.

At the far side of the room, after carefully edging around one of the larger piles, she spied a familiar if incomplete set of novels, lying out of order in a pile. It should have upset her. The whole mess should’ve upset her, but an idea was winning out. She grinned a wicked grin.

Around her the remaining puzzle pieces fell neatly into place. It was all there: an adventure worthy of her friends and of Daring Do. Abandoned ruins. Actual danger. Ancient artifacts. Saving the world. And so much improvised spellcasting she’d likely hurt her head. She fought the urge to squeal, even as her horn ignited and pulled various objects towards her.

Eighty-nine hours before the Summer Sun Celebration, and only eighty-eight hours before her impending meltdown. Plenty of time.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood at the edge of the Everfree Forest. It was muted and still, and the light didn’t quite filter out properly, like it was darker than it should be. The trees themselves abruptly shot out of the ground and were quite tall, forming an imposing wall that stretched from one side of the valley to the other.

“So, Rainbow Dash . . . what’re we s’posed to, you know, do?” Applejack asked, eyeing the darkening depths ahead of her. Her voice echoed back from the surprisingly thick forest wall ahead of them.

Rainbow Dash turned to her, a big, smug grin plastered on her face. “Who’s Rainbow Dash? I’m Daring Do, the coolest fuckin’ archaeologist this side of the Equestria!” Daring Do jumped in the air with a flourish.

“You can’t be that cool. Archaeology’s lame. And Ah don’t even know what you look like.”

“Huh?” Daring Do frowned, then laughed. “Oh, yeah. I’ve got a dark grey mane, tan fur, green jacket and white pith helmet, and my cutie mark is a green and gold compass. Basically Rainbow Dash with different colors.”

“Convenient.”

“Your turn,” Daring prodded.

Applejack nodded, then puffed her chest out. “Is that so? You? An adventurer? Ha! Yer an amateur, compared to—Uh, who’m Ah s’posed to be, again?”

Daring Do cleared her throat. “You’re Rock Gambit, famous gambler turned tomb raider. You go hunting for treasure in the deepest depths of the world,” she explained, like she was reciting from a book, “and are a huge thorn in my side. Unfortunately, you know how to navigate the temple hiding my treasure, so I’m keeping an eye on you.” With that, she hovered in nice and close to Rock’s face and glared, trying to keep a straight face.

Applejack tried to match her stare, before snorting and smiling. “Ah don’t play make-believe very often, ‘Darin’ Do’, but Ah make believe as a stallion even less. Ain’t there somepony else Ah could be?”

“Not unless you wanna play the Princess in peril. But, hey, that’s okay! We’ll just make Rock a mare. How about . . . Rose Gambit?”

Rose Gambit rolled her eyes. “Alright.” She cleared her throat and glanced over Daring Do’s shoulder. “Anypony could be a thorn in your side. It’s a pretty big side.” Somehow, her foreign, unsophisticated accent made it more insulting.

“Hey!”

“And you couldn’t find yer way through a maze—”

“Labyrinth,” Rainbow corrected quickly. “When it’s large enough for an adventurer to get lost in, it’s called a labyrinth.”

“. . . a labyrinth, even if it opened up and lit the way. So you—” she reached and tapped Daring Do on the chest “—need me.”

“Hmpf.” Daring Do glared at her, then smirked. “Care to bet?”

Rose Gambit grinned. “That you can’t get to the treasure without me? You’re on.”

The two spat on their hooves and clopped them together, then turned to face the forest.

“Yunno . . . Look, Dash. Ah know Rose Gambit would know where to go and all, but Ah sure as shootin’ don’t.”

“So? Make something up. Where’s your imagination?”

“Ah dunno, Ah never do this. Yer the one with yer head in the clouds.” Applejack eyed the book in Dash’s hoof. “What about the gem y’all were talking about earlier—the ruby? Do we look for that?”

“Naw, we’re nowhere near the Crumbling Foundries. Let’s find something new!”

“How?”

“Yeesh.” Rainbow Dash pointed deeper into the forest. “We’ll head into the jungle. I’m sure there’s something in there to entertain us.”

“Jungle?”

“Yeah, jungle. Can’t you see the vines and insects?”

Applejack looked at her like she’d grown a horn. “Uh, no?”

“Look, Rose, just pretend this is a jungle. What would you see?”

Applejack peered ahead. “Ah suppose . . . Ah suppose the ground wouldn’t be covered in pine needles. It’d be covered in leafy bushes. Lots more green. And . . . vines?”

Rainbow Dash nodded. “Tons of vines. And?”

“And no evergreens. Jungle trees.”

Dash wrapped her forehoof around AJ’s shoulder and continued. “And it’s humid. Lots of insects buzzing around, and it stinks of sweat and moldy vegetation. You can even hear the calls of wild animals off in the distance.”

She turned to face her friend, replaced by a tomb raider named Rose Gambit. “And somewhere deep within are ancient ruins, a dark temple, and dangerous traps guarding my treasure—the Lost Tome.”

Rose Gambit sputtered. “Yer treasure?! Keep yer hat on and focus! We’ve got a lot of jungle to cut our way through, so don’t get distracted!”

“That’s more like it! Let’s go!” Daring Do hollered, and flew into the jungle, Rose close behind.

Daring Do and her gender-bent rival hurried onwards. Thankfully Rainbow Dash had been kind enough to describe her vision of a jungle; aside from a hoofful of dry articles and various biology reviews, Twilight had been unable to find any good references to jungle flora or fauna. Of course, this meant she had to stay close to the heroes, but she’d already been planning on that. Hopefully she’d be able to keep up.

She waited until they were safely in the shadow of the big trees and landed behind them, then quietly followed them in.

“You want vines, Rainbow Dash? Have some vines.”

Her horn glowed purple, and in her head the vines Rainbow Dash had gone to lengths to describe sprouted from the ground, and from the trees above. Slowly, at first, she focused her magic into projecting color, light, and texture to form a single vine ahead of her, then as she grew more comfortable, a few more. As she thought, she willed them into being, and behind Applejack a sprinkle of vines appeared on the forest floor. Carefully, quietly, they grew in short amounts, always out of sight of the two, since she knew it would be too jarring for them so early on.

She’d thought a lot about this on the way from the library. By the time they were well and truly into their game, Twilight planned on having them deep in an actual jungle. She could already do simple projections, so long as she wasn’t flying; she just had to stay close and pay attention to their reactions.

“Now for the jungle trees,” she muttered, and concentrated. Thicker trunks, smoother bark, wilder branches; wide hanging leaves that filtered the sunlight; and moss everywhere. The first few appeared, out of sight so she could get the hang of them.

Twilight stepped up to one of her transformed trees and prodded its trunk, even as more and more trees and foliage transformed around her. It looked real enough, and even though she could sense a slight pressure on her horn when she touched it, the trunk felt real too. She turned and poked one of the vines hanging from its branches, smiling when it swung gently in the air. So long as Applejack and Rainbow Dash didn’t investigate the trees themselves too closely, the illusions and projections would do the trick.

The real trees were too close together to let her catch up without making too much noise, so she carefully lifted off, still wary of flying, and made her way above the canopy in the same direction as the adventurers, already trying to guess where they were heading and preparing the environment. As trees grew and vines snaked and brushes thickened beneath her, she felt a warmth spread through her body.

This was going to be fun.

Author's Note

Author's notes available here. I'm posting the next chapter, Welcome to the Jungle, at the same time. After that chapters will be released regularly.

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Jungle

Pillars of golden afternoon sunlight fell from the canopy to paint glowing patterns on tree trunks and tall bushes. The light danced and exploded with the chaotic motion of the canopy itself, the only indication of moving air above them. Down at ground level Rose yearned for a soft breeze, but the jungle was stubborn.

She inhaled a breath thick with humidity and stench. The air was muffled and still around her; the canopy danced in a riot of motion and noise, but the soft undergrowth and dense trees broke up sound beyond a few meters, leaving her with only a faint buzzing. Around them the ground rolled like an ocean, with the waves as tall as a foal, making for a surprising amount of incline despite not actually gaining any altitude: earth pushed up around trees and hummocks, and hollowed out into dried streambeds and sinkholes. The surprising surge of energy she’d found at the start had faded into a general soreness in her muscles.

They were traversing a rough patch of the trail, in places little more than crushed leaves and bent branches. Rose found herself nearly missing sharp turns or forks in the path, but Daring didn’t seem concerned. The trees were too close together for Daring to fly easily, so she was walking just ahead of Rose instead.

Daring led them over a dried riverbed and up a short hill, shouldering her way between the thick brush. Rose hurried up behind her, nearly stumbling. It took a moment for her to realize that they weren’t on the path anymore.

“Daring! You gettin’ us lost?”

Daring turned to look behind her as she walked. “Don’t you worry, Rose. A natural adventurer like me has a sixth sense for finding her way—”

SMACK!

Daring wheeled backwards, landing on her rump. “Ow! Mother—”

Rose sniggered. “You were sayin’?”

Rubbing her cheek, Daring glared at her, then at the thing she’d smeared the side of her face into. “Oh. Neat!” she said, jumping to her hooves.

The something she’d smeared her face against turned out to be a tall white rock, stained brown and green towards the bottom and hidden behind some bushes that Daring had tried to push through.

“What is it?” Rose asked.

“I think it’s an idol.”

“A what-now?”

“Like a statue. Pony-made. You can tell because of the way it is. Check it out!” Daring Do brushed the rest of the greenery out of the way, saying, “If you look at it just so, you can see a face carved into the side of it.”

Rose couldn’t really see a face carved into the side of it, but then she wasn’t the expert on this particular tribe of ponies, or their carvings. “Oh, cool. Ah suppose . . . ” Rose Gambit dragged her hoof down the surface, thought about it for a moment, then continued. “It looks like it was made by the ancient ponies of these parts.”

“This is excellent. I mean, I expected we’d run into these—”

Rose snorted.

“—It just means we’re heading towards the temple.”

“Ya think they’re from the same culture?”

“Oh, yeah. Check this out.” Daring Do reached into her saddlebag and pulled out a notebook, which unsurprisingly had a picture of herself on the cover. “Here we go. The ponies that lived here centuries ago were called Mesoequestrians. They worshipped the sun, and feared the night. They carved these idols to ward off demons and spirits, and to guard over them while they slept.” She looked up at the jungle around them, and said, “I guess the jungle gets dangerous after dark.”

“Of course it does, Daring Do. What’s the matter—scared of a couple bats?”

“No, I’m not scared of the bats. I’m also not scared of the snakes, or the cragodiles.”

“Cra—cragodiles?”

“Oh, yeah. Totally.” Daring Do leaned close, wrapped a forehoof around Rose’s shoulder, and whispered, “They float down the river, still like a log, and when something tasty gets too far down the riverbank . . . SNAP! They gobble you right up.”

She flipped to a picture of herself getting chased by cragodiles. “Also they’re made of rocks. See?”

They looked dangerous. “But we’re okay so long as we stay away from the riverbanks, right?” she asked, eyeing the dried stream bed.

“Yep!” Daring Do put away the book and smiled. “Well, we might need some water. It gets pretty humid in this jungle, and by the end of the day we’ll have both sweat a lot.”

“Ah—Ah know that!” Rose Gambit huffed. “Ah may not spend as much time in the jungle as you do, but that’s because Ah’m civilized—unlike you, jungle-dweller.”

“Hey! The only unexplored parts these days are jungle because they’re the most wild. Unlike you, I don’t spend my days near a hotel.”

Rose Gambit laughed. “They wouldn’t let you in a hotel, beast.”

Daring Rolled her eyes, then looked back to the idol. “If they put this here to guard against the monsters of the night, there might be something nearby.” She leaned close and peered into its face, as if she was trying to read its mind.

Rose studied the carved stone. She could see the outline of a pony, if she looked hard enough. Rough, and worn, of course, but the pony looked . . . fierce. “Do ya s’pose it points out what it’s guardin’? Like, maybe it looks away from something in order to ‘watch the night’?”

Daring knelt low and brushed the greenery away from its base. “Maybe. Yeah. If these are its hooves, then it’s looking that way. . . ” She pointed ahead of the idol, to their right. “So maybe we should look that way,” she explained, pointing to the left. “Uh, I mean, we should definitely look that way.”

Rose nodded. “As good a clue as we’ve got, huh?”

Daring stepped past the idol and pushed into the brush. After looking one last time for their original path, Rose followed her in.

Daring could see sunlight ahead. The jungle was thinning. She enjoyed trekking through these really natural jungles, but after a while branches and dim light and leaves smacking her in the face got old. She bent low under a prickle bush and sidestepped to avoid a deep mud pit. Beneath her hooves, gravel tried to toss her sideways, and it was far too tight to use her wings for balance. She ached for open space.

The sunlight was filtering through the jungle ahead now. Daring pushed aside a fern and stepped into the clearing. The sun was bright enough that she had to cover her face with a foreleg and wait for her eyes to adjust. When she saw the tall stone tower standing in the middle of the clearing, a huge smile broke out over her face.

The tower looked seriously old. The top had collapsed, leaving piles of stone bricks embedded in the ground at its base. Moss and vines had begun climbing the outside of the stonework. Many years’ worth of weathering had stained and smoothed the walls.

Daring whooped in excitement.

“It’s a watchtower,” she said, jumping into the air and flying up to the structure. “I’d say it’s been here for several centuries, at least. There’s holes in the walls for the second story floor joists, but the floor itself is long gone.”

She flitted around the tower’s top, looking closely for any signs of carvings or markings, but it was fairly well eroded; most of the top was missing, leaving a jagged peak on one side, with smooth edges all over.

“Isn’t this cool, Rose?” she asked. “Rose?”

Rose was slowly approaching the tower, mouth open and eyes flicking over it. “Stars above, Rainbow Dash . . . Did you know this was here?”

“Huh?” Dash asked.

“Ah’ve never seen this before.” Applejack waved her hoof around. “Why didn’t you tell me this place was in here?”

Dash floated down beside Applejack and stared at the tower. “I’ve never been here before,” she said, shrugging.

Applejack turned and leaned in close, peering into her eyes. “So we randomly stumbled onto an ancient, long-forgotten tower in the middle of nowhere, without a map, guide, or path?”

Dash nodded. “Well, we did follow the idol.”

“It was a rock! In the middle of a bush.”

“What does it matter, Rose? It’s here. We found it. Wanna explore it?” Dash asked. “Or should we keep trudging through the jungle?”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed, as she tried to weigh Dash’s words; then she turned and marched into the tower. Her voice floated out from inside.

“Daring, you know more about these things. Was this built by the same ponies as that stone idol? Them Mesoequestrians?”

Dash smirked.

Daring nodded slowly, thinking hard. “I think so. It’s made of the same stone and it’s about as worn.” She knocked a hoof against the stone wall and listened to it hum softly, then stepped through the entrance. The stonework inside seemed to glow slightly in the shafts of sunlight from outside. The first floor of the tower was very open: archways and pillars surrounded the tiled floor, without much wall between. Worn carvings hinted at incredibly detailed and expansive murals covering the floor, the pillars, and the ceiling. Daring peered at the nearest pillar, and carefully drew her hoof across the surface, tracing the designs.

“It’s pretty cool,” Rose admitted, eyes open in wonder.

The floor sunk down several steps before flattening out. In front of Rose, at the center of the room, was a black, marble pedestal, about as tall as her withers.

“It’s the wrong stone, Daring, and it doesn’t look all that old. In fact, Ah’d say it looks downright new.” Rose pointed around the base of the pedestal. “No dirt or dust, no chips. The rest of the tower is pretty worn, but not this.”

Daring eyed the pedestal. Its top was sliced flat, with four small cups cut out, each about the size of a hoof. “Those look like they’re supposed to hold something . . . Maybe there were some sort of relics held here? Sculptures?”

Rose looked around. “Ah don’t think I’d keep anything valuable out in the open like this.”

In the center of the pedestal, surrounded by those four cup holes, was a small stand, elegantly carved out of some shiny metal, looking like it was supposed to support something round and precious.

“Plus,” Rose continued, “no way some thieves would come here, and take everything except that center bit.” She shifted her saddlebags around and turned to the door. “Shall we keep goin’?”

“Huh? Leave?” Daring pointed at the pedestal. “But we haven’t figured this out.”

“Figured what out? What goes on the stand?” She blinked. “Does it matter? Even if something valuable did sit there, it’s long gone. Or do you think it would’ve stayed put over hundreds of years while the rest of this place fell apart?” she asked, pointing at the missing ceiling.

Daring rolled her eyes. “It’s a puzzle. It’s gotta be.” At Rose’s unimpressed look, she said, “You don’t just build something like this, deep in the jungle, without having something secret hidden inside it. Maybe there’s some sort of key, or treasure, or something. C’mon!”

Rose chuckled. “Maybe it’s just a watchtower. Like, they lit a fire or something when it got dark, or they kept supplies here. It’s cool, but it’s still just a bunch of rocks.”

“So? Use your imagination.” Daring gave her a pointed look. “You promised.”

Rose stood for a moment, working her jaw, obviously considering their situation. “Alright. Ah’ll help ya solve the riddle of the pedestal.”

“Excellent.” Daring grinned. “Let’s see if we can find something that fits these insets.”

Rose shrugged her saddlebags to the ground just inside one of the archways and started exploring the stonework at her hooves. “What am Ah lookin’ for?”

“Anything that’s out of place. Maybe something that’s broken, or missing.” Daring knelt low and tapped the stones at the base of the pedestal. “Sometimes the carvings spell out certain clues. Sometimes the environment reacts with the puzzle in some way, but you’d need to be super lucky for that—”

“Environment? Like, sunlight?” Rose pointed.

Daring turned to look. Rose was pointing at a single shaft of sunlight that was centered right on a slightly inset tile in the wall. It wasn’t very bright—the sunlight outside was much brighter—but it was very conspicuously aimed.

“You are lucky,” Daring said.

Rose grinned.

Daring jumped and hovered over. Rose worked at the stone, slowly wiggling it back and forth until it popped free. “There’s a little space behind here.”

They crowded around the hole as Rose reached inside. “Ah feel something loose . . . Hold on.” She twisted and reached, sinking nearly to her fetlock, then removed a small, green crystal.

“Huh.” She inspected the crystal, turning it around in her hoof, then held it up into the shaft of sunlight. The crystal glimmered and sparkled slightly green, and it looked like it was glowing in the inside. It felt very solid, and looked like a chunk of a larger crystal.

Daring put her foreleg around Rose’s shoulder and nodded seriously. “And you thought this was just a watchtower.”

“Ah . . . Ah didn’t actually expect to find anything.” She looked at Daring. “Alright. You say this is some sorta puzzle?”

“Told you,” Daring smirked. “Now’s the fun part, though. Now we get to solve it.”

On the far wall there was a bright green patch of sunlight that danced as Rose tried to hold the crystal still. Daring waved her hoof in front of the crystal, blocking and exposing the crystal to the light. The bright green patch blinked out and back in turn. “So it’s reflective.”

Rose watched the green light, then shook her head. “It can’t be reflectin’ the sunlight. The angles are all wrong.” Rose turned it in place. The green patch slid over the walls, down the floor, and back up the other side. “Maybe it if were flat, but it ain’t. And there should be other reflections, too. Look.” She aimed the green patch directly opposite the sunlight, illuminating part of its own shadow. “No way sunlight is bouncin’ through it.”

Daring eyed the crystal. “You’re right, it’s not nicely shaped.” She looked back at the pedestal. “I bet it fits in one of them.”

The crystal fit smoothly into the third slot, though once out of the sunlight its insides stopped glowing. “Got it. Now we need some light.”

“Oh!” Rose pulled her canteen from her saddlebags and held it up to Daring. Its sides were scratched to expose a silvery metal face. “Bounce some light in from outside. Let’s see what happens.”

Daring wandered outside, keeping the pedestal in view through one of the arches, and held the canteen up into the air. A bright patch of sunlight reflected off the canteen and bounced over the inside of the watchtower as she tried to line it up with the crystal.

“A little left—no, your left,” Rose said. “Higher . . . there! Hold it still!”

“This isn’t easy, you know!” Daring said, struggling to stay as still as she could. Even the tiniest motions bounced the reflection around wildly.

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up. The crystal’s glowin’. Look!”

Daring nodded. The crystal was smoldering a faint green. “Where’s the reflection?” Daring asked, unable to do much else besides hold the canteen very still.

Rose pointed up towards the top of the tower. High above, a faint green patch of light was dancing around a set of stones at the base of a window. Daring tried to memorise its location then slid the canteen’s strap around her neck and floated up.

The green spotlight was quickly fading, but one stone was illuminated perfectly in its center. Knocking on the brickwork revealed a hollow behind it; with some careful application from the hammer in her saddlebags, she was able to remove a bright blue crystal. In the direct sunlight it took no time at all for the crystal’s translucent insides to glow.

Daring passed the crystal to Rose and returned to her post. Rose slotted it into place opposite the green crystal.

Rose called up, “It fits, but it’s weird. It’s got a bunch of notches carved out, and a chunk stickin’ out on one side . . . wouldn’t it normally be all straight, or nicely round? Like the gems you find on fancy dresses and stuff?”

“Dunno,” Daring said, holding up the canteen and shining a shaft of sunlight on it. A faint blue glow illuminated the room. “How’s that?”

“Hold it there—Got it. It’s pointing back here . . . ” Rose disappeared from view. Daring waited patiently, then heard the sharp, resounding smack of hoof on stone.

“Careful! This place is really old.”

“Well, yeah. Ah’m pretty sure that’s the only way this is working.”

After a few moments Rose emerged with a yellow crystal in her jaw. Like the others it was rough and jagged on one side, and smooth on the other. Rose stepped up to the pedestal and slotted it into place between the green and blue crystals, leaving one slot empty.

Daring aimed the canteen at the yellow crystal. “Do you see a yellow spot?”

“Uh, no. It’s normally pretty bright. Let me hold that, and go check near the top.”

Daring passed the canteen to Rose and flew to the top of the tower. She could see straight down to the pedestal and the three crystals. Rose was shining light directly on the yellow crystal, but Daring couldn’t see any yellow glow outside the crystal. She floated down the center of the watch tower, carefully looking behind the pillars and even exposed faces where the crystal’s light couldn’t possibly reach. Nothing.

“That blows,” Daring said, landing beside the pedestal. “Try the other two. Maybe they’re pointing somewhere else,” she suggested, although she knew it wasn’t likely.

No luck. “Horseapples,” Rose said. “You s’pose it’s broken?”

“No way. That’s not how it works. If the puzzle is still around while I’m exploring ruins or tombs, it’s supposed to work.”

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense, Daring. It’s hundreds of years old. Things break.”

Daring grabbed the yellow crystal and spun it in her hooves, grumbling quietly. “Hey, point the light at it again.”

Rose shrugged and grabbed the canteen. “Move to the side a little.”

Daring turned and held it high over her head, peering up at the crystal, unsure what she hoped would happen. Rose waited a moment then lit the crystal—

And shot yellow light in Daring’s face. Daring winced and thrust the crystal from her face, eyes shut tight. “Ow! Oh, crap, that’s bright.”

“Sorry!”

“No, that’s fine—” Daring paused, blinking away the afterimages, and looked at the crystal. “Do that again!” she said, this time holding the crystal in front of her, as far from her face as she could manage. A yellow glow appeared on the grass below Daring’s outstretched hoof. “Yeah. Yeah!” Daring whooped, jumping into the air. “See! We got it working.”

“We didn’t do nothin’,” Rose said.

“So?” Daring hurried back inside the watchtower. “Try it now!”

Aside from the crystal glowing slightly, nothing happened.

“Aw, C’MON!”

“Relax, Daring,” Rose said, smiling. “At least we got somewhere, right?”

Daring nodded. “Keep holding that light.” She grabbed the yellow crystal and held it up again, careful to maintain its orientation. Below the crystal, right in its slot, a yellow glow appeared, wavering slightly as Daring’s hoof shifted.

“It’s pointing at the pedestal . . . The next crystal is inside the pedestal.” Daring grinned madly.

“How do we get it out? That stand isn’t worn and brittle like the rest of it.”

Daring’s grin slowly faded.

On the floor by Daring’s hooves was a small pile of black chips sprinkled with dust. Several minutes of precision hammering had broken a hole to the point that Daring could kneel close and reach her hoof into the small space inside the pedestal. She felt around, half expecting to feel something wiggle or brush against her, but it was dry and empty inside, except for—

“Yes! Finally!” Daring pulled out a smaller, red crystal. She placed it in the final slot, breathing a sigh of relief when it fit perfectly. She looked over her shoulder at Rose. “Watch for the light.”

“Sure.”

Daring grabbed the canteen and rose through the watchtower towards the top. She hovered to a stop in the warm sunlight, and held the canteen above the open top, taking only a few seconds to find its reflection and point it at the red crystal.

Below, Rose turned and looked around before pausing, staring at one spot on the wall.

“What is it?”

Rose ducked her head, then let out a loud laugh. “Ha! It’s pointing right where we found the green crystal.”

It took a moment for her words to register; then Daring started laughing, too. “So we went in a circle? Wonderful.”

Daring landed beside Rose and leaned over the crystals. They definitely fit their spots in the pedestal—if Daring hadn’t seen otherwise she’d’ve sworn they were tightly fixed in place. Her gaze shifted to the empty stand in the middle. “So what fits there?”

Rose looked at her, eyebrow cocked. “Really?”

Daring shrugged. “What?”

“Here,” Rose said, grabbing the red crystal and the yellow crystal. When she twisted them a certain way the pair popped together, forming half of a sphere. “Should’a thought of that earlier. They go in the order we found them.”

With Daring’s help Rose finished assembling the sphere, then set it in the center stand.

“It fits,” Rose muttered.

“Shine some light on it,” Dash said quietly, watching it intently.

Rose nodded, hurried outside and held her canteen in the sunlight. Its spotlight bounced around as she tried to get a good grip on the thing, then she balanced and held it firm. The spotlight slid over the sphere.

“Great! Hold it there!”

At first Daring could only hear a slight buzzing sound. After a moment, the sphere itself began to glow: first the red section, which was directly in the spotlight, then green, then blue and yellow. Light was being shone into each crystal in turn, and Daring realized that they’d been rotated to point their light in a circle. More and more sunlight landed on the crystal, and soon the crystals each began glowing white.

Then the crystal blinked out, turning dull and dark in a second. “What the—What happened? Did something happen?!” She looked around, searching for anything out of place. “No. No!”

“Sorry!” Rose called out. “Canteen slipped.”

Daring nearly fell on her face. “I hate you,” she grumbled.

“Now, now. Don’t be rude,” Rose chided before grabbing the canteen and aiming it at the crystal. It flickered through its rainbow of colors before glowing bright white. The humming grew louder and higher in pitch until it was almost painful.

“Almost there!” Daring called.

The sphere began ringing, and the watchtower groaned in response. Beams of pure white light shot out from the sphere, splashing over the inside of the watchtower in several places, illuminating other stones until they glowed too. Realizing she was blocking some of the beams, Daring backed out of the tower and stood beside Rose, watching through the open archways.

“You know,” Dash yelled, “I’m not sure if this is safe!”

“Me neither!”

Daring turned to see Rose had already lowered the canteen. The light show was running on its own.

“What’s it s’posed to do—”

There was a flash of light, and then the light blinked out. The crystal faded to dull once more, even as Rose focused more sunlight on it. They walked inside.

“The tower’s still rumbling,” Rose noted. Daring looked up and could see dust shaking loose. The floor shifted, tipping her off-balance. She yelped and jumped into the air, and watched as a patch of the stone brickwork slid down and under the surrounding floor.

The rumbling ceased. The mechanisms had left a hole in the floor, just large enough for a pony to slide herself through. From above, it looked like it opened into a small hiding spot, about as large as a grown stallion. They peered inside.

“Whoa.”

Inside was completely black except for the small amount of light making its way in between their heads. The rumbling and shifting floor had shaken loose a layer of dust that was still settling.

Reflecting light off the canteen into the space didn’t illuminate much.

“I wish we had some light. You wanna see what’s in there?” Daring asked, unable to look away. It didn’t seem dangerous. “You are the tomb raider, after all.”

“Eenope,” Rose shook her head. “You go right ahead.”

Daring crouched beside it and held her ear to the opening, listening for anything moving, then reached inside, feeling about until her hoof knocked something small and square.

“There’s something inside,” she said, reaching in with her other hoof. With Rose’s help she hefted a medium-sized chest onto the floor. She reached for the clasp. “This is where something jumps out at us, right?” Daring asked with a forced smile.

Inside was a lantern, a sparkstone, and a jar of some amber liquid that Daring assumed was lantern oil.

Rose frowned. “Ah didn’t actually expect to find anything.”

Dash arched an eyebrow.

Applejack quickly corrected herself. “Ah mean, uh, Ah didn’t expect to find anything so quickly.”

Daring nodded. “Well, you are a walking good-luck charm. Hopefully that lucks holds up.” Daring grabbed the lantern and inspected it. “It looks pretty banged up, but it might work. Could come in handy.”

“Uh, ya think we’re gonna be out here at night?”

“Or we might find some ruins. They don’t normally have interior lighting,” Daring joked. “Why? Got a curfew?”

“More that Ah was promised we weren’t gonna be out too late,” Rose said, looking pointedly at Daring.

“Right. Well, hopefully we don’t need it, but just in case . . . ” She loaded their spoils into Rose’s saddlebags.

“Hey! How come Ah gotta carry them?”

Daring reached for the crystal. “’Cause I’m gonna carry this,” she said with a grin, and slid it in her pack.

Two two stepped out into the sunlight.

“Hey, Daring?” Rose started, brow furrowed. “Why would they protect a lantern like it was treasure?”

Daring tilted her head.

“I don’t know.”

Twilight resisted the urge to cheer or jump for joy. Her first puzzle, and they’d solved it! It wasn’t too easy, but they hadn’t given up, either. Sure, they’d discovered the crystals by accident rather than by deciphering any of the carvings on the inside, and sure, they’d smashed her pedestal, but all in all she was still pleased, because another condition had been met.

A to-do list appeared in her mind, partially completed.

1. Immersion (check) 2. Investment (check) 3. Conflict—

Rose and Daring were packing their haul into their saddlebags and getting ready to leave. Twilight knew she couldn’t keep putting devious puzzles and dazzling scenery in their way and hope to give them a good time. They needed conflict, and she needed a villain.

Her list grew to accommodate her decision.

3. Conflict -> 3.1. Villain

Twilight sat on her haunches and rubbed her chin. Several of the Daring Do stories floated to mind, and she thought about villains.

“A good villain . . . well, a good bad villain.” In her opinion, the Daring Do novels had several villains that fit the bill: wicked, dangerous, and unpredictable. Fewer, though, were really memorable. The sorceress from Daring Do and the Dark Castle, maybe, but she was little more than a wall of magic with a temper, single-mindedly focused on her prize, while the Duke from Daring Do and the Gilded Throne was a spoiled brat with power and an ego.

“You deserve better than that, Daring,” Twilight muttered, standing and shifting to get a better view of the adventurers as they pulled their prizes from under the watch tower.

But just because she could recognize a flat character didn’t mean she knew how to create a full-bodied character. She knew when she didn’t like a Daring Do villain. What counted as a good bad villain?

She cast about and settled on the villain from a sequence of Daring Do novels, a Unicorn from the desert. Twilight didn’t know his name, but only because the author hadn’t yet given him one. He was ruthless, greedy, and resourceful, sometimes accompanied by minions and his “pets”. He would do nicely.

She turned and found a nice, flat spot out of sight, and her horn sparked. Simple magic floated through her ley lines, combining in the very tip of her horn and spilling out onto the ground. A shapeless mound of matter drew up from the dirt, forming a rough body that quickly took the shape of a stallion Unicorn that was in no way reminiscent of one of her most hated professors.

The pony-to-be grew colors, an outfit, and a face, all drawn from memory with some details enhanced. Her horn felt warm on her forehead: she didn’t normally go this quickly. She grunted, pouring simple commands into its body that would give it balance, moving muscles, and the appearance of weight. Satisfied, she let her spells run their course, then tapped the pony on the side of its head.

It fell over, as realistically as a sleeping pony would.

“Ah!” she hissed. “Get up!”

No response—not that she’d expected one, of course.

She looked behind her. The adventurers had left the tower and were approaching the other end of the clearing, moving out of sight—and in the wrong way. Her marionette still needed reactions, quirks, and dialogue—and quickly. And what about his pets?

She looked back and forth between the heroes and the lifeless Unicorn, tapped her hoof impatiently, and gulped.

Pets were easy. Projections of light and sound, forces and reaction—no problem. Twilight could conjure automatons in her sleep. Her villain needed a personality, and she had no time to codify one. But she could use her own, at least until she had time to do it properly. As the pets assembled themselves, she lay on the grass, got comfortable, and took and held a deep breath.

“Whoa, hold up,” said Rose, when they were close enough to the jungle to see through the shadow. “Didja see that?”

Daring followed her gaze. Besides the gentle motion of the trees and brush, she couldn’t see anything else.

“Ah think we’ve got company,” Rose muttered. She was staring intently, trying to peer into the dense jungle. “Ah saw somepony watchin’ us.”

Daring squinted. “Somepony?” Daring asked. “Who would be all the way out here? Probably an animal.”

“Ah definitely saw a face. Just for a moment, and it was hidden behind the brush, but it had eyes and a face, Ah’m sure of it.” Rose stepped forward and yelled, “Who’s out there? We know yer there!”

They waited, but they got no reply besides the normal sounds of the jungle. Daring smiled. “See? Just some animal or something—”

Then the jungle roared back. It was loud, and rough, an animal wail that Daring recognized before it had even finished. The wail was high-pitched and forceful, mixed with a rumble that only large animals made. The wail faded into a growl, echoing until it mixed with the natural jungle noises. All around, the motion of the jungle ceased.

“Ah guess it ain’t a pony after all, Daring,” Rose said, chuckling nervously. “Daring?”

Daring blinked. Rose’s voice sounded like it was coming from the far side of the world. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She gulped. Of course she recognized that cry.

“Cats.”

Rose walked up beside her. “Cats?” she asked.

Daring nodded. “I have a . . . history with them.”

“Yer afraid of cats?” Rose asked, a hint of a smirk in her voice.

“No,” Daring sneered. “I just have a healthy respect for them.” She looked at the edge of the clearing, but the rustling had stopped and the jungle had fallen into a deep, unnatural silence. Her mane bristled. She’d almost prefer to see the beast; at least then she’d know where it was.

They needed to get out of there. Daring quickly wondered whether she could lift Rose to safety.

“Ah’m sure we can handle a wild cat,” Rose said.

“Oh, you shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss her fears, Miss Gambit,” a deep, charming voice said.

Daring whirled around. Behind them was a stallion Unicorn, tall and built with a dapper moustache atop a smug grin and a fedora just behind his horn. He stepped clear of the grass and brushed some leaves from his shoulders.

“After all, Miss Do is a world-renowned adventurer. Anything she fears. . . ”

A large white paw slapped down into the dirt beside him, sharp claws gleaming. The rest of the limb followed, and then the leaves pushed aside to reveal a mean, angry feline face, framed with knife-like fangs and sinister glowing eyes.

“ . . . is a thing you should fear too.”

Applejack backed away from the large feline, keeping it in sight, even as thoughts nagged at her head. She was pretty sure there weren’t any feline predators in the Everfree Forest—maybe cougars? Those lived in forests, for sure. But this was no cougar. And this was no forest, neither. She was fully snapped out of their make-believe, and yet the jungle remained: vines and lianas, tall leafy trees, and humidity that was trying to suck the moisture from her coat. She was pretty sure the Everfree Forest was more about pine trees.

And . . . “Did y’all just call her ‘Miss Do’?”

“Of course!” the Unicorn said. “Who wouldn’t recognize the great Daring Do? Master archaeologist, adventurer, philanthropist. She’s quite famous.”

Applejack stared.

The Unicorn turned to Dash and asked, “But do you recognize me? We’ve met several times before, of course.”

Dash said, slowly, “Uh, I don’t think so. I’ve never seen you before in my life. You’ve got your ponies mixed up.”

“Think harder, Miss Do. You delivered to me the Cross of Coroneighdo, and it’s only because of your sacrifice that I have the Chachaponyan Idol.”

“How—how do you know about those?” Dash sputtered. “Those aren’t real!”

“You might have kept the public from hearing about your . . . generosity, but their presence in my vault is proof of their existence.”

Applejack leaned close to Dash and whispered, “Hang on. What’s he talkin’ about, Dash?”

“It’s from the books! Daring Do’s colleagues were foalnapped and she had to trade the Cross for their release. And later, when she was injured after an expedition, her train was boarded by bandits that threatened to derail it if Daring didn’t give up the Idol.” She turned back to the Unicorn. “So . . . you’re—”

“Ah! A glimmer of recognition?” He smiled, then turned to Applejack. “But you and I have never met, I’m sure, although I know all about you as well.” He removed his hat and bowed. “Cairo, my dear.”

Applejack fought the urge to curtsy, and said nothing.

Cairo smiled. “Charmed, I’m sure.”

His cat growled, and he reached up to scratch it between the ears. Applejack eyed it warily.

“And as for why I’m here? I shall require some of your assistance once again, Miss Do.”

“Bite me.”

“We can arrange that,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, you won’t have to lift a feather. I know how precious they are to you. I only need a small bit of information before I can complete my quest—incidentally, the same quest you are on as well. Isn’t that fortunate?”

“You’ve got the wrong ponies!” Dash insisted. “We’re not on a quest—we’re just exploring.”

Cairo leveled a stare at her. “You’re searching for the Lost Tome of Shadows, a warlock’s spellbook of unimaginable power, buried deep under the jungle. Why else would you have braved rough seas and a dangerous jungle to come here?”

Applejack’s jaw dropped. “How did . . . ”

He ignored her, and continued, “And so far from civilization and any chance at rescue if something goes wrong. Very risky.”

His horn illuminated. All over Applejack’s body she felt the telltale tingles of nearby magic. She tensed.

“Normally, of course, I’d wait for you to find it before arranging a little meeting like this, but in this case I can’t trust you to keep it safe once you find it, and navigating the dangers surrounding this treasure requires an acute knowledge of its inhabitants and their culture—knowledge you have penned into writing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Cairo sighed. “I’m getting tired of this game, Miss Do,” he said, and his horn sparkled. A blur of purple magic bloomed around Dash’s saddlebags.

“What the—Hey!” she cried, clamping her wings down over her saddlebags and holding them shut.

Applejack yelled, “Let go of her!” and threw herself at the Unicorn.

Cairo casually glanced in her direction. Applejack’s outstretched hoof made it to within centimeters of his face before she was yanked to a stop. His magic had wrapped around her, too. He sighed, and with a flick of his horn sent her soaring through the air, to land some meters away in the grass. Before she could get back to her hooves she felt his magic pin her to the ground.

Applejack tried to ignore her discomfort and looked over at Dash. Her wings were straining to hold her saddlebags in place but Cairo’s magic was steadily spreading them open. Dash gritted her teeth, her nostrils flaring with each breath.

“Stop it! You’re hurting her!” Applejack yelled.

“Of course not, Miss Gambit, though she might hurt herself if she doesn’t relax. Come, now, Miss Do. This won’t take a second.”

Dash collapsed in Cairo’s grasp, groaning and coughing. Her saddlebags gracefully undid themselves and floated over towards Cairo.

“I’ll take this,” he said, and pulled the crystal from the bag. He hovered it between them for a moment, peering deep inside it like he expected to see something, before sliding it carefully into his bags. He turned back to Daring’s bag and peered inside, frowned, then dumped their contents in front of him. A book spilled out and tumbled over the rest of the junk, landing at Cairo’s hooves.

“Ah, excellent.” Cairo tossed her saddlebags to the side, hovered the book in front of his face, and pulled a smaller, leather-bound book from his own gear. Pages flicked back and forth as he inspected them both. “Fantastic. This is exactly what I need.”

He smiled at Dash. “Thank you. I don’t think anypony could survive the Temple without hints like these. It’s supposed to be quite dangerous.” The two books slid easily into his bag. “Thankfully I was able to stop you two before you got into trouble.”

Rainbow Dash hollered a wordless cry. Cairo immediately shoved her lower, pressing her face into the dirt, muffling her cries. After a moment she stopped struggling and Cairo released her head. Dash coughed and panted, glaring at him.

“Alright, Cairo. I’ll play your game,” Dash snarled. “The moment you let me go, I’m gonna find you, I’m gonna get my notebook back, and I’m gonna stop you. I clearly should’ve stopped you a long time ago.”

Applejack had never seen Dash so angry before.

Cairo laughed. “If you say so!” He slid both his notebook and Dash’s book into his bags.

“Now, as much as I love seeing you like this . . . ” He smiled, watching Dash struggle. “I have a very, very valuable relic to rescue, and time is always short.” He grimaced. “That, and I don’t like watching my pets feed.”

He faced to Applejack. “Well met, Miss Gambit.”

He turned to leave, but paused and looked over his shoulder. “Do you know why Miss Do is right to fear these beautiful creatures?” he asked, waving at the cat. It growled loudly, baring its fangs.

“No,” Applejack answered, sneering. “Tell me.”

“It’s because they can sneak up on you so easily.” He tipped his hat at them, then disappeared with a crack.

The leaves and brush them rustled, and more purple eyes appeared. The jungle cats attacked.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time: Lost or Dealing with Magic Users.

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 3: Dealing with Magic Users

I’ll play your game. . .

Daring Do’s thoughts echoed Dash’s just as a chorus of roars erupted from the leaves, nearly deafening her. Two lanky jungle cats leapt from the jungle wall and crossed the gap between them and the heroes before Daring could even gasp. She grunted and tried to roll over, tried to jump out of the way, but Cairo’s magic held her in place.

The cats snarled and leapt, hanging in midair for an eternity before shooting downward at Daring and Rose, paws outstretched and claws gleaming in the high sun.

Cairo’s magic blinked out, and Daring fell flat on her face. She scrambled forward, sliding under the diving cat just as it slashed at where her body had been. A quick kick with her hindlegs had her on her hooves, just in time for the first cat to skid to a stop and spin to face her. The two stared each other down.

Motion out of the corner of her eye. Daring crouched and rolled to the side, letting one of the jungle cats swipe harmlessly at the ground. She rolled to a stop on her back, in time to see one of the cats lunging at her from below. Got you! Those claw-studded paws and that fang-filled mouth made it to within a breath of her face before her hooves caught the cat in the chest and sent it flying onward, tail over head. It wailed in surprise, trying to turn itself upright before slamming into the ground somewhere out of sight.

Daring gave a pump of her wings and flipped upright. Across the field Rose dodged and wove. She was all fluid motion, tearing up grass and dirt, surrounded by a halo of golden mane and tail. She clamped a forehoof to her hat and ducked, letting a clawed paw swing over her, then crouched and jumped up, bashing her forehead under the chin of the cat.

A cat growled right behind Daring. Distracted, she turned too late, and the cat slammed into her from the side.

“Ah!” Daring felt it deep in her side. She landed hard and tumbled, the wind knocked from her lungs and stars glittering in her vision. She struggled onto her back and tried to blink the blur from her eyes. The jungle came into focus, as did a jungle cat.

Time slowed to a crawl, and her thoughts turned to sludge. A massive paw rose up, blocked the sun, and flew down at her, claws slicing through the air. Daring tried to dodge it but it was too late, she was gonna get torn in two—

The slice went wide and the cat shot sideways, collapsing into a heap. Rose’s hooves hung in front of Daring’s face, just centimetres away from her nose, still and unwavering. She scrambled back and felt the world right itself, her balance back, Rose’s voice trying to get her attention clear in her ears, and her thoughts racing ahead. Her notebook. Cairo! She had to catch him before he could escape.

The sky above was clear. Daring took off like a rocket and cleared the treeline, anxiously scanning the ground for a flash of color, anything other than the endless green. Nothing nearby. A low rumbling filled the air. The wind picked up, and dark clouds started forming high above. Cairo was not going to escape this time—

From far below she heard Rose calling up at her.

“Rainbow Dash!” Applejack hollered. She ran as fast as she could, drawing on her rodeo barrel-racing skills to keep on her hooves, but every time she had to swerve around a fallen log, duck low to avoid a branch, or jump over a ditch, the cats gained precious ground. They were used to this terrain, and she had no idea where to go.

“Git yer ass down here!”

She looked up but only managed a short glance before she had to skid to avoid a tree trunk. Behind her the snarls grew louder and louder. She ran left, then veered right to hopefully stay on course. The soft mossy undergrowth, only a nuisance before, was now a real slipping hazard, and she had to fight to keep her balance while running as hard as her legs would carry her.

The jungle floor was full of obstacles. Mossy hummocks, nicking her hoof as she leapt over. Branches, each lower than the last as she slid under it. More trees—“Ah, horseapples!” She had to skid to a stop to keep from painting herself across a wall of trees, and looked around frantically. Which way? Which way?!

Behind Applejack the howls of enraged animals ruffled leaves and shook the canopy. She turned to face her assailants, not about to go out with her rump to the enemy. Muscles tense, blood pumping, lungs bellowing.

“Go right!”

Without bothering to check who was yelling Applejack lunged to the right, just as a storm of gleaming claws swiped through the air behind her. She rounded the nearest trunk and found herself on an animal path, and poured on the speed. Above was a rainbow-colored blur, low and just ahead and surprisingly comforting.

“Okay, Rose, listen up!” Rainbow yelled.

Rose?!

“Up ahead is a teensey tiny ravine. No problem, but you’re gonna have to jump.”

A ravine?! The trees cleared suddenly and bright sunlight stunned her for a second. When she opened her eyes again the ground in front of her fell away, and she skidded to a stop. A spray of dirt fell off the edge and floated downwards. Right behind her, brush was crunching and branches were snapping.

The other edge looked like it was receding, it was so far away. When she looked down she saw the faintest snaking white line—a river with rough waters.

“Rainbow Dash! Ah can’t jump that!”

Dash swooped around and hovered just above her. “Sure you can. Just don’t think about it!”

“Dash!” she cried, starting to panic. The cats were getting closer, and as little as she’d wanted to fight them before, she liked the idea of facing them with her backside to the ravine even less. She looked up and down the treeline. There! A dozen meters away was a dead tree right at the edge. It looked tall enough. She ran over and lined herself up.

“C’mon, Rose! How about I carry you across?”

AJ had a sudden, vivid vision of herself slipping from Dash’s grip, plummeting through the air, with the watery bottom rushing up at her—

She shook her head. “Not over that drop you won’t!” She kicked with her hindlegs and bucked the tree. The tree barely budged, but there was enough give to reassure her. This was gonna work.

“The tree isn’t tall enough!” Dash insisted.

“It’s gonna have to be!” she cried, as howls of enraged cats blasted from the trees, mixed with snapping branches and the thumping of paws on dirt. They weren't being subtle. Another buck, this time with an audible crunch as some of the roots pulled up through the grass. Not fast enough! “Dash! Help!”

Rainbow Dash swung in just above her and leaned her shoulder into the tree. Her wings pumped hard, pushing huge swaths of air past them, and slowly the tree began to give. Each resounding clash of hooves on wood pushed it further, until with a satisfying crunch the roots gave way and the trunk crashed down, bridging the gap. Applejack whooped, turned, and leapt.

“Wait, no! It’s not—”

Applejack ignored her and scrambled along the trunk, running nearly sideways to keep from slipping. She didn’t bother looking down, just concentrated on her balance and motion of the tree. It was practically bouncing from her rough, ungainly run. Halfway there!

“It’s gonna fall!” Dash yelled.

It was. The top of the tree was much thinner than the base, and the trunk was bending alarmingly.

“Dash!”

“Jump!”

The top of the tree slid over the edge, pitching the whole thing to the left. Applejack kicked off to the right, most of her forward motion spent just getting herself off of the tree. For a moment all she could hear was the thundering in her head, blood pumping furiously. Even Rainbow Dash seemed muted.

Oof! She slammed gut first into the ground, hindlegs and abdomen hanging over the edge, the impact knocking the wind out of her. She scrambled to get her weight onto solid ground but there was nothing beneath her hooves to push against. Her forehooves tore up the grass as she slid backwards, and she desperately tried to catch hold of something. “Help!”

Then the ground slid past her stomach and she was weightless.

“Dash!”

Twilight’s cats were gaining on the ponies, but Applejack and Rainbow Dash had just spotted the tree she’d conveniently placed. Before either of them could see her, Twilight leapt behind a boulder to watch. This was the hard part: she needed to support Applejack’s weight when she ran across the makeshift bridge but without being seen; and to do that without throwing AJ off the log, she needed to be close. Unfortunately, the only place close but out of sight was—Damnit. The things she did for friends. Thankfully her chances of falling to her death had dropped dramatically in the past couple weeks.

Making sure the tree wasn’t about to tip just yet, she carefully climbed around and down to a lower ledge, then edged her way along the underside of the ravine until she was underneath the trunk, and out of sight. With a shudder, she lit her horn, and the tree gave a tremendous crack and collapsed, bridging the gap perfectly.

She heard a cry of gratitude and the thundering of hooves. The weight on her horn increased suddenly, and she slipped and ducked her head. The tree above shifted dangerously to the side. The cats skidded past, just missing the bridge. She could feel their paws scrambling on the grass, trying to get to the pony who was just then thundering overhead. Too much weight—she hadn’t factored in the weight of the tree!

Her hoof slipped and she grabbed onto a rock, concentration lost. The log slipped from her grip and off the edge. Applejack!

After a few moments, Applejack opened her eyes. She was prone, on solid ground, legs splayed out, with Rainbow Dash standing beside her. Behind her the pack of jungle cats roared helplessly. She rolled onto her back and stared at the sky.

Rainbow Dash broke the silence. “You okay?”

Applejack nodded, not sure she could speak.

“Good. Actually, I’m glad you took the tree. I probably couldn’t have carried you all the way across.”

Applejack groaned.

“We’ve gotta go. Cairo’s got my notebook.”

Applejack looked at her. “Huh?” She twisted to stand up, still feeling like she’d bucked her own stomach.

“My notebook. It’s got all my notes and records from various archaeological sites and digs—”

“Enough with the Daring Do crap!” Applejack roared, fighting the urge to smack her and settling instead with looming over her. “Look around, Rainbow Dash! Whaddya see?”

Rainbow Dash leaned back and looked around. “I dunno. Trees? Blue sky?” She looked behind Applejack, at the growling cats across the ravine. “A jaguar? What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal, Miss Oblivious, is that there ain’t supposed to be no Celestia-damned jaguars in the Everfree Forest! We’re lost!” She stared at Rainbow Dash. “Why ain’t you worried?”

“Duh, AJ! Of course we’re lost! I know there’s no jungle in the Everfree Forest! No jaguars or snakes or cragodiles, or big stone temples, either! Something’s going on. I get it.” She paused, took a breath, then continued, “But Daring Do wouldn’t be scared—I know Daring Do could handle this, and if she could, why couldn’t I? Why can’t you, for that matter? Rock Gambit’s really good at getting out of scrapes. They might be able to get us out of here in one piece, and if we’re lucky, maybe we can get my book back.”

Applejack looked at her like she’d grown a third wing, and said, slowly, “Rainbow Dash, a complete stranger called you Daring Do. A pony that tried to feed us to wild animals just to steal an adventure book. A pony also looking for an imaginary temple with a fake relic that we just made up!”

Dash chuckled. “Hey, do you think there’s actually treasure in that imaginary temple too?”

“Seriously?! Yer gonna keep playin’ make-believe while large, wild animals try to eat us?” she demanded, pointing back at the other side of the chasm.

“You got a better plan?”

“Yeah! Find our way home!” She looked around, as if she expected to suddenly recognize where they were.

“AJ, you said you wanted to have an adventure. You promised. Since when are adventures easy?”

Applejack stared at her. Rainbow Dash had officially lost it. Applejack sat with a thump and exhaled.

The worst part was Applejack already knew she was gonna cave. It was written all over Dash’s face: she usually wore a smirk or a cocky grin, but it was rare that Dash had an actual smile. Applejack wanted to turn around and head home—this had already gotten too real—but she hated to be the pony to wipe the smile from Dash’s face.

Damn it.

And, as much as Applejack wanted to argue, Rainbow Dash made a frustratingly good point. Never mind that Daring Do was an exaggerated, made-up hero, and not a good measure of a pony—it wasn’t any different than any of the other adventures the two had shared over the years.

“Technically, yer the one that asked for an adventure,” she pointed out.

The Pegasus’ ears perked up. “Huh?”

Applejack sighed, standing. “Alright. If ya need yer fantasy to keep from cryin’ like a little foal, Ah’ll play along. But no life-or-death stuff. And,” she said quickly, before Rainbow could interrupt, “you help with the southern orchard.”

Dash tapped her hoof, considering Applejack’s words. “I won’t risk our lives on purpose, but I’m getting that book back, which will probably be dangerous. So, if you’re in, no more of this hesitation and ‘Oh, Ah didn’t think we were gonna actually have fun’ junk. We’re heroes.”

“Heroes.” Applejack nodded slowly. “Ah can do heroes.”

Dash cleared her throat; Daring Do scoffed. “Me? Crying like a foal? I saw how scared you were back there. You need me.”

Rose Gambit sputtered. “We’ll see. There’s still the temple, Sugarcube, and that’s where Ah shine,” she said, unable to keep a note of smugness from her voice.

Daring Do, however, was looking back at the other side of the ravine. “Don’t go celebrating just yet, Rose.”

Rose looked. On the other side, the largest cat was pacing back and forth along the edge. It was carved out of shadow with a face straight from her nightmares that was all fangs and purple evil eyes. Adorning the monster’s forehead was a monster welt, which Rose suspected was shaped and sized exactly like one of her horseshoes. If any of the cats could jump across, that was it.

Rose looked back at Daring Do. The Pegasus’ body was locked with tension and she had a grin on her face. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

“That’s some pretty life-or-death danger right there, Daring.”

“Not my fault.”

“Think we can take it?” Rose asked.

“I think it’s gonna have to put up one hell of a fight.”

Rose grinned. She felt her body surging with adrenaline.

The cat howled louder than Rose would’ve thought possible, and leapt into the air.

Just below the edge of the ravine, Twilight hung for dear life, exhausted and out of breath. The problem with being Twilight Sparkle, she decided, was that she now had to live up to her reputation. Make a cat with longer limbs, sharper claws, and a louder roar than normally possible? She could do that. Have it leap through the air and land convincingly, impacting the ground beneath it, all despite being incorporeal? A challenge.

Do it all while out of sight, hanging below the edge of a cliff, because her magic felt like mud when she flew and her flying felt like falling when she magicked?

Deep breath. Alicorns have Earth magic, too. Feel the earth.

And she could feel the earth, if she focused hard enough. She could feel hooves and paws tearing up dirt and grass; leaps and skids exposing motion, action, and intent. Warm feline breath in pony faces. Hot purple bruises on feline shoulders. Scratches. Howls of fury. So much chaotic growth and energy, but safely covered in a blanket of peace and graceful motion. She grew lighter, gained stability, and felt her Pegasus magic cautiously emerging: near misses whipping air past Rose, thundering gusts from Daring Do’s wings nearly knocking the cat over.

The fight lasted only seconds, really. Daring Do and Rock Gambit got into scraps all the time, but for all the heroics they’d actually taken part in, Rainbow Dash and Applejack were terrible brawlers. Twilight had to force her projection to swing too wide, to take a second too long to dodge, and to maneuver too close to the cliff. A well-placed buck hurtled through the cat’s face and Twilight could barely throw it over the edge fast enough.

The glow on her horn faded and her senses returned to normal, including the senses that told her wasn’t on solid ground. She yelped and tumbled through the air for a second before catching herself and flying back towards the ridge.

Silence, for a moment. Twilight could tell Rose and Daring Do were both scratched and stunned, panting hard. Had she overdone it?

—then cheering, that quickly turned to goading. Above her Daring Do and Rose leapt with exhilaration, and despite the weariness that was quickly setting over her body, she felt a surge of pride, both from her success and from having entertained her friends. Her plan was working! Soon they were taunting each other, a sure sign of having fun. She wanted to celebrate with them.

She shook her head, and peeked over the edge. Daring Do and Rose were hurrying onwards, clearly eager to keep up the momentum, and once she was sure they wouldn’t see her Twilight pulled herself up and over. She couldn’t rest: the farther the two adventurers went into the forest, the more forest she had to transform into jungle, and the sooner she’d need everything set up for their adventure.

So much to do, and so little time!

Daring Do and Rose Gambit emerged from the jungle on an upward slope, following an old trail worn into the grass that wound and rode its way up to a crest between two larger hills. The humidity vanished with a gust of cool afternoon breeze, and with it went the buzzing and chirping from the jungle floor. From the top of the mountain Daring hoped to find some sign of Cairo.

At the top they stopped beside another stone idol and looked back. The sun was noticeably lower in the sky, and the two could see for kilometers. It was a stunning view, but Rose wasn’t smiling.

“Daring Do, none of that looks familiar.” She gestured towards the endless carpet of tree canopy they’d just trekked through. “Where’s the ravine we crossed? Or all the clearings? Or . . . you know, where’s Ponyville?”

“No idea. Something—or somepony—doesn’t want us finding our way back.” Daring Do wasn’t paying too much attention, though; she was facing ahead, looking past her. The ground sloped gently downwards, while on either side the hill grew towards actual mountains. Grassy hills rolled onwards through the valley, broken by small gullies and the occasional bunch of small trees.

And she thought she’d caught a glimpse of color somewhere in the distance.

Rose was clearly waiting for a better answer, so she continued, “But finding lost ruins is usually a little difficult, Rose—otherwise they wouldn’t be lost.”

“Ah know that! Ah meant, even if we don’t know where we were going, we should still be able to see where we came from.” She sighed. “Ah suppose yer gonna tell me I shouldn’t be lookin’ back anyways, right?”

Daring Do thought about it for a moment. “Being lost didn’t stop us when we had to trek through the southern wastelands, or when we were stuck on the River Antigua. Sometimes there’s no going back.”

Rose Gambit shook her head. “Yeah, yeah. But you didn’t tell me when we set out that this’d be an overnighter.” She started trotting downwards. “C’mon, Daring Do, Ah still need you to get me into the temple. After that, we can go find yer diary.”

Daring felt her eye twitch, but she refused to rise to Rose’s taunt. “My notebook is the key to uncovering the treasure at the bottom of those ruins,” she said calmly. “Cairo stole it for a reason. There’s no point in finding the temple without it.”

“Fair enough.”

The more the ridge behind them obscured the jungle, the more Daring felt like she was passing a point of no return. There was less and less of a link between her and home—between her and safety. At least she wasn't out in the wilderness on her own.

Her gaze travelled forward, where the jungle began again. There! Most of the trees were swaying gently in a breeze, but there was a flash of red hidden amongst the riotous green.

“I think I see something up ahead,” she said. “I’m gonna get a better view.” She pumped her wings and took off before Rose could protest, only slightly disappointed that she didn’t blow Rose’s hat off.

Well, well. A pair of small canvas tents had been erected among the trees, and a sheet of canvas had been stretched over the whole thing. The ponies down below probably figured they were pretty smart, using green fabric for their setup and blocking their tents from the sky, but they’d forgotten that their red, grey, and blue coats didn’t blend in all that well.

No cats, though—at least none that she could see—and no Cairo.

She flew back to Rose. “Found ‘em. Cairo’s goons. They’ve set up camp in those trees.”

Rose looked past Daring, trying to peer into the distant treeline. “You saw Cairo? He got yer notebook?”

“No, but what are the odds of finding any other ponies out here?”

“Hold on—you figure those ponies are working with Cairo, just ’cause they’re nearby?”

“Duh.” Daring shrugged. “We’re not exactly in camping territory, and besides us there haven’t been any other ponies around. Even if they’re not working together, they’ve gotta here for the same reason we are.”

“So two groups of ponies set out at the same time to find the same temple—without knowing about each other?”

“Well, I don’t know who they are, but they’ll know me.” Daring struck a pose.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Alright, famous adventurer. What’s the plan?”

Daring thought about it for a moment, then punched her hooves together. “Barrel in and beat them to a pulp?”

Rose smacked her in the shoulder. “Hey! You may be sure they’re bad ponies but for all ya know they’ve got nothing to do with stealin’ yer notebook.”

“So, you got a better way?”

“We can’t just walk up and ask ‘em, can we?”

Not after bragging about how everypony knew her. “Disguise?” Daring suggested.

“Ah ain’t got any costumes in mah bag.”

“Then I’m out of ideas. You got any? Or have you remembered we took down a bunch of large jungle cats, no sweat?” she teased.

Rose stared at her. “Ah took down those cats. You flew off to find yer diary.”

“It’s not a diary!” Daring protested.

“Fine, fine. What if we sneak in and, Ah dunno, spy on ‘em? See if they really are up to no good.”

Daring considered. She knew Rose was right, and she knew she ought be patient and not rush in, but Rose was gonna have to learn there were times when subtlety and patience didn’t work as well as initiative and hooves. “I dunno . . . ”

“Then, if it turns out they’re no-good bandits, we beat ‘em up. How’s that?”

“I guess. You ever done any spying before?”

“No—Yes. Of course Ah have. Diggin’ through tombs and investigatin’ dead ponies takes lotsa spyin’.” She paused. “Uh, don’t it?”

At least the master spy will learn quickly. “Alright, lead the way.”

“What do you think?” Daring whispered.

They’d taken the long way, keeping to the treeline to keep the ponies from spotting them. It had taken them longer than Rose’d expected: by the time she was within sight of their targets the sun had fallen noticeably from its peak, confirming that she wasn’t making it home before sunset. Not that that was a problem for a master tomb raider such as herself, of course.

Now they were hiding behind a dirt mound and some bushes for cover, close enough that they could hear the ponies talking, but not close enough to tell what they were saying. Thankfully, besides talking and moving around the camp, they hadn’t done much else.

Rose thought about it for a moment. Just like sneakin’ up on wanderin’ livestock, right? She frowned. Wanderin’ livestock that fights back.

She said, “First we gotta get the lay of their camp. If there’s no room to move around, or nowhere to hide, we’re outta luck.” She hoped desperately that wasn’t the case. “Also, we gotta find out if there’s any other ponies nearby. Wouldn’t do to have somepony sneak up on us while we’re trying to sneak up on them.”

“Right.” Daring Do turned and looked over her shoulder. “I don’t see anypony else.”

“Well, ya wouldn’t if they were sneaking, would ya?”

“So how are we supposed to find these ponies if we can’t see them?”

Rose squeezed her eyes shut. Fair question. “Maybe one of them will mention another pony, or they’ll have too much gear, or something. Either way, we gotta know we ain’t gotta get ambushed.”

Daring nodded. “And as soon as we know there’s nopony else, we rush in and rough ’em up until they talk.”

“I’m telling ya, ya can’t walk up to random ponies and beat them senseless.”

“And I’m trying to tell you they aren’t random ponies!” Daring hissed.

Rose groaned. “Ah don’t care if they’re random ponies or not. All we gotta do is get yer notebook back. If it’s as important as you say it is, they’ll be as lost without it as we are.”

Daring sighed. “I guess. But, Rose, ya gotta know something. These situations, they have a way of nosediving. Raiders always bring muscle, but there’s never enough brains among ’em.” An evil grin spread over her face. “Don’t expect ’em to be polite if they find us.”

“It’s gonna be fine. Remember? Luck’s mah middle name.”

Daring rolled her eyes. “Right. I can head through the trees, out of sight, while you push in behind their tents. As soon as either one of us gets an opportunity, we snatch the book. Got it?”

Rose didn’t really think that was all that fair, but she certainly couldn’t suggest the opposite. She turned back to the campsite. “Fine. Just stay in sight.”

“No problem.” Daring scanned the canopy above her, then with a pump of her wings, shot up between the branches, soon only a slight flash of gold hidden among the dull browns and vibrant greens of the jungle. Wow, she’s quiet. That meant Daring was waiting on her.

Rose hugged the ground and pulled herself forward. The ground was rough with roots and bushes and creepers that scratched her gut, and her progress was slow; Daring would probably wonder what was taking her so long.

Wish I could climb trees, she grumbled.

Soon Rose was at the encampment. It was a simple setup, filling a small open area in the trees. Two tents were set up side-by-side at one end of the clearing, facing roughly towards each other. In the center there was a small used campfire, and a canvas stretched up and over the whole site. Surrounding the campsite were a half-dozen lanterns, any of which could’ve illuminated the whole campsite at night.

Rose could see two ponies and hear a third. A grey Earth Pony stallion wandered around the perimeter, peering into the trees but generally doing a lazy job of it—neither Rose nor Daring had been spotted yet. A pale blue Unicorn mare kept watch from the centre, sometimes looking around but mostly just talking to the third pony, who never came out of the larger tent. Rose couldn’t tell what the pony was doing in there, only that he didn’t pay much attention to the other ponies and sounded like a stallion. Not Cairo—the voice was wrong.

She caught the occasional exchange between them. The stallion in the tent was their superior, or boss, or something. They never mentioned any other ponies, but neither did they say anything about a notebook. Their conversations seemed to loop over and over, and she quickly grew bored.

Rose spent agonizing minutes sliding herself along the ground, pausing every few moments to push a branch or vine out of the way. She made it behind the smaller of the two tents, on the far side of the camp. The was no way in back here without uprooting the tent posts and causing a commotion, so if she was gonna make it inside she needed to do so in sight of the others.

Getting past the first pony was easy: he hadn’t changed his route since she’d first seen him. The third was an unknown, but he had been hiding in his tent the whole time so it was likely he’d stay put. It was the mare in the middle that made her gulp. She had a good view of the whole camp; and Rose knew that as a Unicorn she’d have some sneaky tricks up her saddlebags.

She thought back to her previous adventures. Of course she’d been in this situation before, right? She imagined loud distractions, or knocking out the bad guys when they were out of sight and stealing their uniforms, or jumping from rooftop to rooftop—

Not helpful. Somewhere up above, Daring would be getting herself into position, possibly waiting on her, definitely getting impatient. She scanned the canopy. Far to her right she could see a dark shape skulking about among the branches, but the canopy was dark enough that Rose couldn’t tell what Daring was doing.

Down below, the grey stallion was peeking inside the small tent, and the Unicorn mare was busy talking to their boss in the other tent. She had a chance, once the stallion continued on his route; if she could just get into position to slip inside—

Daring? Daring was moving, a shadow blurring between tree trunks and under branches. She’d caught the same opportunity, and was rushing towards the first tent. But how was she going to get inside the tent without being seen? And she was travelling way too fast—Oh. Oh!

Daring exited the canopy and shot into the tent just as the stallion turned away and started his next lap. Rose caught only a hint of a rainbow trail left in her wake. A rush of wind blew past her, all directed away from the ponies and the tents. Rose watched the ponies, waiting for one of them to question the rustling tent fabric, the very quiet but very explicit cursing, or the jostled bushes behind the tent, but they didn’t seem to notice. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and crawled her way to a better view, ready to make a quick getaway once Daring had found her notebook.

The ponies talked to each other, boring conversations they’d likely had several times over—Rose couldn’t imagine much else happening out here—and continued their patrol. Grey Stallion passed Rose, who hid behind a clutch of trees and moved as little as possible. Blue Mare stooped her head into the larger tent to speak with the boss.

Rose looked back to Daring’s tent. The flap was open, ever so slightly, allowing a single eye to peer through at the encampment. Daring had to know the grey stallion was due to return in a minute or so. The Unicorn finished her discussion returned to her seat, planting herself in the middle of the campsite in plain view of the tents. If she didn’t look away, Daring was gonna get caught.

Rose felt her pulse quicken, her breath shorten, and her muscles tense. Of course she was gonna have to fight Daring’s way out of there. She’d have to take out the Unicorn first. Knock ’em unconscious; that was the best way to deal with magic-users. If she’d moved herself so the Unicorn was between her and the Earth Pony she might have had the advantage, but there was no time.

Grey Stallion faced the tent and approached it. Blue Mare watched him. Even the voice from the other tent was quiet. Did they know Daring was in there?

The stallion leaned down and opened the tent flap.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time: Heights or Dealing with Cloud Patrons. Leave your guess in the comments below!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 4: Heights

Daring flared her wings wide the instant she was inside the tent, slowing enough that when she crashed she didn’t continue on and tear a hole through the rear wall. She froze and held her breath, listening for any indication that they’d spotted her, but from the conversation she heard they were completely unaware. The patrol had just left that tent before she’d made her entrance. She had maybe two minutes.

Swearing quietly, she sprang to her hooves and looked around. The inside of the tent was very dark but she had no time to wait for her eyes to adjust. Unrolled across the ground were three bedrolls, messily unmade and empty. She crawled over them to a bundle of clothing—jackets, bandanas, a quad of boots—nothing there. She pulled the bedrolls apart. Nothing underneath. Towards the opening were a pair of saddlebags; inside one she found a canteen, a bit of food, some carabiners, and a hammer. No no no!

She bit back a groan and was about to throw the saddlebags away when she remembered she didn’t have her own. These weren’t too heavy, so she quickly strapped them on. While they would slow her down a little, she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to replace her lost canteen.

She peeked under the opening flap. The patrol was nearing the tent on his circular route, while the support was done chatting with her boss. The other tent was right there, but she couldn’t rush across while he was approaching.

Oh. Nor could she just hide in the tent and wait for another opportunity. How unfortunate. Guess I’ll have to ask nicely.

She grinned. Nothing for it; she’d have to surprise the patrol the moment he poked his head in. She knew Rose could keep up.

Time for Plan B: Bust ’Em Up.

Daring pointed herself towards the opening and readied herself. Hoofclops approached the tent, and a shadow fell over the tent canvas. Daring pulled her wings in tight, stretched out for a better launch, and tried to guess where the stallion’s head and face would be. A hoof pulled open the flap. Daring leapt, punching forehoof outstretched—and missed.

Daring had fully expected to slam into the stallion’s face, and the open air and bright sun stunned her. She barely had to time to register that the stallion had turned and was facing away before she flew through another tent flap, for her second rough, indoor landing of the day.

“Guh?” she groaned, rolling off of her face and onto her haunches. The tent was empty. Boss-Pony, whoever he was, was outside; she could hear him, the Unicorn mare, and the other stallion all talking very loudly and very quickly. She crawled over and peeked under the flap. All three were standing near the edge of the encampment, and Daring could sense the prickly feeling of magic, like a buzzing under her coat. Could the Unicorn sense her? Even worse, Daring saw a pair of wings on Boss-Pony—losing a pursuer was much harder if that pursuer was a Pegasus.

Daring shuffled back and looked around the tent. Unlike the other tent, this was lit by a small, dull orange lantern on a low desk. Beside it was a pile of rough paper maps, held down by a stone paperweight. She quickly leafed through them. They were rough, crude charcoal drawings, not to scale, showing small islands in the ocean, city layouts with secret tunnel networks, or hidden oases in arid deserts. One in particular caught her eye, though. It was covered drawings of jungle trees, a mountain ridge, and, at the end of the indicated path, a tower. Writing covered most of the blank space, scrawled by a sloppy mouth-writer. She shoved it into her bag and continued her search.

What’s this? A small chest sat towards the back. It was unlocked, and inside was the crystal they’d assembled in the watchtower. She sighed in relief. While she wasn’t sure why they thought they still needed it, recovering stolen artifacts, no matter the situation, always felt rewarding. She slid it into her saddlebag, gave one last glance around the tent, then crawled to the door and peeked out, hoping nopony was nearby.

The three ponies were standing around something, talking quickly and loudly, and although Daring couldn’t make out what was going on, a sense of dread settled on her wings. Rose!

“Daring!” whispered a voice from behind her. She whirled around. Rose had pulled out several tent pegs from the ground and was holding the rear wall open, with just enough room for a pony to look inside, or for another to slide out.

“Rose! What’s going on?” Daring hissed.

“Did you find yer book?” Rose asked.

“No! They must’ve hidden it somewhere else. What’s going on outside?”

Rose shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. We need to leave!”

“Rose! What’s out there?”

Rose sighed. “Cairo’s here. Ah think he brought his cat back. And he’s pissed.”

Daring froze, then whipped around to face the entrance. Before she could launch herself into the clearing, a hoof grabbed at her tail. Rose had shoved herself under the tent wall up to her shoulders.

“Daring! No! Don’t be stupid! We’re outnumbered two-to-one, and two of ’em are Unicorns!”

“I don’t care! He’s got my notebook! You don’t understand!” She reached around and tried to pull free of Rose’s grip. “Let go! It’s my only chance!”

“We’ll follow him. We can keep him in sight, figure out where he’s going and what he’s up to. We won’t lose yer notebook. Please!” she begged, reaching with her free hoof to grab Daring’s. “Yer just gonna get us caught.”

Daring looked back outside. She could see Cairo talking to the other ponies, and at his hooves was a sad, soggy lump of jungle cat. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but the others were listening attentively and nodding. Not only was Daring losing her chance to get her notebook, but she was missing out on whatever their plans were.

“Rose, are you gonna help me or not?” Daring asked, looking over her shoulder at Rose.

Rose sighed and shook her head. “No. If you go out there, yer on yer own. It’s a stupid idea.” Rose let go of Daring, and slid back out of the tent, holding the bottom up enough for Daring to slip through.

Outside, Cairo had finished talking. His horn glowed briefly, there was a flash of purple light and a loud crack, and then he was gone. Daring pulled at her mane in frustration and groaned.

The patrol whipped his head around. “I heard something,” he said.

“Crap!” Daring hissed, pulling back and spinning around to face Rose.

“Hey!” the patrol yelled.

Daring shrugged off her saddlebags and slid them under the tent wall for Rose to pull through.

“Get them!” the Unicorn yelled. Hooves thundered towards them.

Daring threw herself at the opening, getting stuck almost immediately. “Help!”

The tent opened. “She’s in the tent! There’s another outside!” A hoof grabbed Daring’s hindleg and pulled. With her head outside the tent she couldn’t see the pony, so she kicked blindly until she felt her hoof hit something vital, loosening his grip.

Rose grabbed Daring’s forehooves and yanked. Daring popped free and sent them both rolling into a nearby tree. Rose was up first, helping Daring to her hooves before throwing the saddlebags at her. The Pegasus zoomed around the tent, but with the treeline so close he quickly had to pull up above the canopy.

“C’mon!” Rose yelled, running back into the jungle.

Rose hid against a tree where the canopy was thickest, tried to slow her breathing, and waited for the Pegasus to zoom overhead. Once the sky was clear she and Daring turned and hurried off at a right angle.

Soon they’d put a sizeable distance between themselves and the camp. They stopped to catch their breath. Rose leaned against a tree and chugged from her canteen, surprised at how thirsty she could get in such a humid environment. Daring sat opposite her and started nosing through her saddlebags, ignoring the concerned looks Rose gave her.

After a few moments Rose said, “Daring, you know goin’ after Cairo’s a bad idea right now.”

“No, I don’t,” Daring growled. “I mean it’s not a bad idea. You think I should just let him keep my notebook?”

“No, of course not, but as long as he’s got his magic we’re not gonna beat him head-on,” Rose explained patiently.

Daring grumbled and kept digging through her bags.

“And if you’d gone barrelin’ in there, he’d’ve caught you and tied you up or something.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” She sighed, and pulled her head out of her saddlebags. “Except—”

“Except it sucks when you gotta hold back and let somepony else win, right?”

Daring scoffed. “Are you kidding? I get beat lots. I just wish he hadn’t taken my notebook. Anything else, no problem. I can just get it back. But that’s my mom’s notebook. It’s just as historic and valuable as any other relic.”

Rose nodded. “But he needs it to get to the Tome. He ain’t gonna let anything happen to it while he needs it.” She smiled. “And this way, we can follow him right to the Lost Tome and hit him back when he’s distracted.”

“Except that he can teleport,” Daring reminded her.

Rose frowned. “Except that he can teleport.”

“Anyways, I don’t think we need to follow him. Check this out,” Daring said, pulling out a large roll of canvas.

“A map?” Rose asked.

“I grabbed it from the tent,” Daring said, smoothing it on the ground and pinning the corners flat with small stones.

Rose leaned closer. It was roughly scrawled, with more drawings than actual map features, but she could piece it together. There was the jungle they’d hiked through, with several large scars cutting through it; maybe one was the ravine. The trees ended near a ridge, and continued after some time on the other side. A circled point marked out the encampment, although presumably there hadn’t been a camp until very recently. Some nearly illegible notes suggested it was a good resting point before continuing on to . . . “Where does it lead?” Rose asked.

Daring pointed to a small black circle, and a tall pointy rectangle, near the top of the map, with an arrow from one to the other. “I don’t know what this is,” she said, tapping the circle then the tower, “but these look like more ruins. Maybe another watchtower?” She frowned. “Whoever made this map knows a lot more about this jungle than I do.”

“Ya suppose Cairo’s already found it?”

“Maybe, but there’s nothing about what it looks like, or if it’s even still there. I bet the pony that made this map only saw the tower from a distance. It might not even be Cairo’s map.”

She reached back into her saddlebag and pulled out something else. “Then there’s this little beauty.”

Daring placed the crystal on the map. “I guess he left his minions to take care of it while he went looking for his cats. I found it in a chest.”

“He left the crystal, but not your notebook?” Rose asked.

“Maybe it’s not all that valuable.”

Rose shook her head. “It was hidden in a chest. No way it’s an ordinary rock.”

“But I’ve got no idea what it’s for. Do you?”

“Ah’m pretty sure Ah don’t know,” Rose said slowly.

Daring tapped the crystal, then smirked at Rose. “Well, use your imagination.”

Rose looked at her, then realization dawned, like she’d suddenly remembered her previous adventures. “Right. Lemme think.”

She looked at the map. The small black circle could refer to the crystal, but the notes about it were smudged and poorly written. The arrow connected it and the tower—maybe it was a direction, which would mean the circle was a feature of the landscape, not just a drawing. “Some sort of hole in the ground? A door?” She looked at Daring for confirmation, but the Pegasus simply shrugged.

Maybe the arrow wasn’t a direction, but an action, like in an instruction booklet. “Do we put the two together? Use this circle on the tower?”

“Maybe . . . ”

“If that circle means this stone, then we gotta take this stone to that tower.” She paused, then nodded in satisfaction. “Somehow it’s the key to getting us inside.”

Daring’s eyes went wide and she grabbed Rose. A smile stretched across her face. “Rose, you’re a genius!”

“Ah am?”

“It’s a key!” She let go of Rose, grabbed the crystal, and held it up to inspect it. “In fact, it already unlocked the secret chamber below the watchtower. Of course it’s a key! It could unlock something at this tower, too.” She gasped. “Maybe a door. Maybe it’s the temple! Why would they draw one watchtower and not the other? Those ponies knew how to get to the temple, and with this they could get inside. So can we! We can catch Cairo before he gets to the treasure!” She leapt to her hooves and started cramming everything back into her saddlebags. “C’mon!”

“Wait!” Rose stared at Daring. “How do you know Ah’m right?”

“I don’t! Isn’t it exciting?”

Twilight flitted back and forth over her tower, carefully sculpting rock into art and then demolishing it.

“Oh, sure,” she huffed, “just ignore the complicated runes lining the border of the map.” She waved her hoof over a facet of stone, chiseling pictographs and line art into the surface.

“And ignore the carefully smudged diagrams, showing the time of day and the day of the year—both conveniently this afternoon, of course.”

Her horn glowed. She blasted a chunk of rock from the corner. Smoke and debris blew past her. She waved a hoof in front of her face, fanning away the smoke, then smoothed over the hole to leave a worn, weathered look.

Unlike the watchtower, she wanted this to be more of an obelisk: straighter, with a square base, and narrower; no visible entrance; and ornate carvings up each face to the top, capped with a dazzling pyramidal peak.

“And how about the writing on the back? Those riddles were fun to solve, right? Oh, wait, you didn’t even flip it over!”

She sighed, absently flicking her horn. The earth groaned as the obelisk turned to face the sun just so. In truth, she’d only spent about five minutes designing that map; she wasn’t totally surprised that they’d only given it about five minutes’ worth of attention. In contrast, creating the camp and animating the minions had taken nearly half an hour, and they’d spent at least that much time skulking and sneaking around. She supposed spending as much time on creating a scene as they’d spend experiencing it was a good judge of effort.

She frowned. She’d made the entrance to the temple more dangerous than she’d expected. There was a clear path that, once found, they’d be able to follow, but the heights were more . . . high that she had realized at first. She didn’t want them wasting too much time, no matter how much effort she’d put in.

“There’s nothing wrong with making things a bit safer,” Twilight decided, before sprouting a few more ledges for the two ponies to climb. “And I’ll be following them from out of sight—somehow—so even if Rose does slip and fall, I can catch her.”

Satisfied, she turned back to the obelisk’s crown. A few more finishing touches, then she hugged herself and spun around. “Ooh, I just can’t wait!”

The jungle thinned ahead, and Rose could hear the sound of a gentle breeze. She looked downwards and pushed through the final wall of leaves, emerging into the bright sunlight. Just ahead of her hooves was a stone path, its paving made rough and erratic from grass and weeds pushing through the stonework. She looked up. It shot forward towards the base of a large stone structure that Rose immediately recognized as the tower from Daring’s stolen map.

Beside her, Daring whooped with excitement and shot ahead. Rose hurried to keep up, watching for movement in the jungle around them. Small stone posts circled the clearing, like a pasture fence. The rest of the the vegetation and trees had been cut clear, although in some places the wilderness had pushed back.

Just off of the center of the clearing stood the tower. It was very tall, taller than the tallest buildings back home, but made of solid stone and much narrower. Its top was cut into a pyramid whose point might once have shimmered in the sun but now was worn smooth and dull. From a distance the sides looked rougher than the corners, or perhaps carved.

Ahead, the stone path split into two and curved around some sort of dip in the ground before joining together at the other side, next to the tower. Rose slowly approached the edge, and her eyes widened as the bottom failed to appear.

The hole was more than a dip. The ground quickly fell away, leaving a steep cliff that dug deep. It was at least as wide around at the rim as the tower was tall, and just as deep. The rim was smoothed over with stonework, and the whole thing looked like some angry ancient god had stomped a hole through a town square.

The bottom started to wobble and vertigo took her for a second. She backed up, shook her head, and looked towards the treeline. She wasn’t so good with heights, apparently.

And she just knew eventually Daring was gonna try and persuade her to climb down there.

Daring flew over. “It’s so cool!” she said. “The craftsponyship on the obelisk is amazing. You can barely see the edges where the stones were placed together, and the carvings are so detailed! Look at these ornaments! You gotta see it!”

Daring led her around the sinkhole to the base of the obelisk. Rose had underestimated its size—from the base, it was massive and seemed to touch the sky.

“You can’t see from down here,” Daring said, “but there are huge fire pits at the top. This might’ve been a lighthouse.”

Rose looked up. The obelisk loomed over her, casting a deep shadow on the ground around her. The stonework had been worn smooth, but she could still make out carvings all over its face. “What do they mean?” she asked.

“Dunno. There was something in my notebook, I think, but . . . ” Daring shook her head and pulled the map from her saddlebag. Floating beside Rose, she held it open in front of them. “This is the obelisk, and the sinkhole back there is the big black circle. Now we just gotta find a way inside.”

Rose walked around the base, paying close attention to the carvings and the tiny seams she could occasionally spot between stones, but there was no hint of an door or secret entrance.

She met Daring on the other side. “There might not be anything inside. Maybe it’s just another milestone.” When Daring cocked an eyebrow she said quickly, “Ah know, Ah know. But this thing’s so big there’s no way we’d find some tiny keyhole, or whatever.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Daring said, hovering beside her. “Cairo’s goons had this map, it leads here, and they’re looking for the Tome of Shadows, but there’s nothing here.” She looked around. “Do you suppose they haven’t gotten here yet? There’s no sign of them.”

Rose shook her head. “Not without their map, but Ah bet they’re not too far back. Cairo seemed to know what he was doin’.” She looked up at the imposing height of the obelisk. “It might just be a distraction, Daring.”

“If it isn’t the obelisk, then what?”

A sinking feeling flooded Rose’s gut. “Daring,” Rose said, “do ya remember what Cairo said? About where the Tome was?”

“He said it was buried deep in the jungle,” Daring said, tapping her chin. “Well, we are definitely deep in the jungle.”

“No, no, he said under. Buried deep under the jungle.” Rose looked back towards the sinkhole. “He said it’s in a temple under the jungle. Ah bet we’ve gotta go down there.”

They approached the edge. Rose gulped. “Wonderful.”

Daring Do snorted. “So there’s a little bit of altitude involved. Big deal.”

“Daring Do,” Rose reminded her, careful to put as much sarcasm as possible into her words, “have ya forgotten that Ah can’t fly?”

Daring knocked a not-too-small rock over the edge; several seconds later she heard a faint knocking. “It’s not that far,” she assured Rose, wincing when she heard another knock. “Still not that far.”

Rose rolled her eyes, then settled onto her gut and carefully peered out over the edge. The smoothed stonework only descended a little way before cracks and missing sections began appearing where nature had taken over. Below that she could see raw rock covered in moss and shining with moisture. The bottom was faint and dark, with a hint of sky reflected from what Rose assumed was a pool of water. This close there was an obvious breeze, occasionally gusting very briefly, bringing a clean smell of grass, rock, and water from the bottom.

She backed up, looking for the horizon. “You could fly down there, sure, but Ah’d have to hang out up here. Not unless you can find me some stairs.”

“Yeah, I could probably fly down there.” Daring looked down and announced, “It’d be too dangerous for a regular Pegasus, of course—unpredictable air currents, sharp edges, too little light…” she went silent for a moment, then continued, “No, I could totally make it.”

“Daring Do? You listening to me? How do I get down there?”

“By taking the stairs?” Daring suggested, pointing.

There was a path, of sorts. A narrow staircase wound around the inside of the rim. It didn’t go far before it met the bottom of the stonework, at which point a path dug into the wall took over. The rock walls had irregular shapes worn away from small streams tumbling over their rim, and the different strata poked out at different places, forming short paths and sudden ledges that jutted out from the rest of the wall. Here and there foliage and grass colored the walls, but farther down the light cut off enough that nothing would grow. Once a pony got past the first grassy, slippery bits the rest would be easy—assuming the ledges and paths continued all the way down. It was too dark to tell.

Daring continued, “If we don’t try it, and if we don’t find another clue, we gotta turn back.”

“This is lookin’ more and more life-or-death.”

“It’s fine,” Daring insisted. “If you wind up blocked we’ll just back up.”

Rose took a deep breath and then nodded. “Fine. But if Ah fall, yer haulin’ mah heavy ass out of there.”

Daring Do rolled her eyes and flew across the sinkhole, stopping at the bottom of the stairs to inspect the path. Rose followed, trying to avoid looking too far down, and stopped at the top of the landing. The stairs descended at a steep incline, spiralling down the inside. It looked sturdy enough. If it was still hanging over the rim after this long, Rose figured it wasn’t about to crumble beneath the additional weight of one pony. She could at least go to the last step and then reevaluate.

Staying close to the wall, Rose quickly descended the stairs, slowing when she approached the end. Ahead, natural rock formations had left ledges and paths that continued roughly to the bottom.

Daring hovered in front of her nodded seriously. “Well, regular ponies wouldn’t dare try it. Too steep, and some of those ledges aren’t very big. Looks like it’s up to us!” she decided.

Rose leveled a stare at her. “Thanks.” She craned her head down, trying to eye the distance to the first ledge. Only a meter or two, not that far. “And there’s more down below? Enough to get to the bottom?”

“Oh, totally. I’m probably completely positive.”

“Yer quite the confidence builder, ya know that?” She rolled her eyes. “Okay. Here we go!”

She leaned low, slid her forehooves off the edge, and kicked forward.

Rose shook out the ache from her right hindleg and grumbled. Some of the ledges were large enough for her to stand comfortably, and for some parts down the sinkhole wall there were paths she could follow for a fair distance, but enough of the descent was from precarious ledge to narrow, slippery rock, and jumping and landing awkwardly in tight spots was killing her legs.

She looked up. The walls of the sinkhole stretched far above her. She was low enough now that the sun never directly touched the walls, and the dense brush had faded through moss to a dull slime on the wetter parts of the sinkhole. Down below the bottom was barely lit by reflected daylight, and without any wind the surface was still as a mirror.

Daring flew over to her and pointed. The path ahead switched back and continued on behind her, barely descending. All the actual downward progress was made with the large drops between sections.

“Ah’m comin’,” Rose insisted, readjusting her saddlebags. She followed Daring along the path to the next drop, gauged its distance, and slid forward over the edge, keeping her weight close to the wall so that when she landed there was less chance of tipping over.

“Hold on,” Daring said. “Let me check the next part.”

Daring floated on ahead. Rose carefully walked forward, keeping an eye on the path. She now knew well enough to watch for the shiny patches of rock, indicating slipperiness, and to look for any cracks that stretched up and over the inside edge, possibly indicating a weak section—she’d already discovered both during her descent.

Daring flew back. “Uh, okay. No biggie, but . . . the next part is tricky.”

Rose forced herself to stay calm. “Tricky how?”

“It’s just a long jump,” Daring said quickly, floating between her and the section in question. “Not too long, I’m pretty sure you can make it, just that it looks farther than it is.”

Rose ducked and looked under Daring’s wings, then rushed past her to the edge.

“Celestia’s royal ass!” Rose swore. “Ah know you think Ah’m some sort of super athlete, Daring Do, but Ah can’t jump much farther than a normal pony. That’s at least two strides away.”

“If it were a flat jump, maybe, but the drop should give you enough time to cover the distance.” She landed in front of Rose and lined herself up. “Watch!”

She ran over the edge and glided down to the landing.

“You used yer wings!” Rose cried.

“Well, I can’t jump as far as you can. I didn’t have to use them very much.” Daring floated back. “See?” She pointed up. “Not much farther than those jumps.”

It certainly looked farther. “And if Ah can’t make it?”

Daring looked around, then down at the lake at the bottom. “Can you swim?”

Rose growled.

“C’mon, I’m just joking. I know you can do this. It just looks farther than it is because it’s a little scary. That’s all.”

“Don’t try that, Daring. Ah know what you’re trying to do.”

“What? I’m just reassuring you that you can overcome your fears and triumph over this ledge. I know you’re not gonna let a little optical illusion scare you, right?”

“Daring . . . ”

“And certainly the brave and incredible lucky Rose Gambit isn’t scared of a little jump, not when she’s faced dangerous jungle cats and evil Unicorns, right?”

“Daring.” Rose shut her eyes and rubbed her temple. “Just . . . just find another way, ’kay?”

“Yeah. Sure.” Daring floated downwards at a careful pace. Rose leaned her head over, watching Daring until she the height made her feel like she was falling, before looking up at the sky and taking a deep breath.

She should never have let the birdbrain talk her into this.

Twilight watched them from the rim of the sinkhole. Rose wasn’t taking the route she’d expected, but with Daring Do keeping close and their attention very focused, Twilight was able to pop out steps here and there to fill in the gaps without them noticing.

Of course, she’d made the cenote very deep. Her best guess was just shy of fifteen meters, enough that they’d feel suitably awed—and nervous—but not so deep that they’d have to risk Daring Do carrying Rose to the bottom. A challenge worthy of two adventurous ponies, but it meant Twilight would have to descend while they were still navigating it, or else risk messing up the projected ledges near the end.

Getting down the cenote would be hard. Well, she thought, without being seen. Teleporting generated too loud and bright of a burst, and unless they were looking away, the purple glow would give her away in an instant. A number of distractions flew through her mind, ranging from falling rocks to a magical glow at the bottom of the pool to a lens diffracting light around her. In the end, in favor of a natural option they wouldn’t question, she chose the wind.

Twilight gulped. Even with her wings—even with several weeks of flight practice from Rainbow Dash herself—the sudden drop was disorienting. She couldn’t understand how Pegasi could just step off of ledges like the one in front of her, even without the dangerous rock walls surrounding that drop. But she needed finer-grained control over the fireworks she had planned for the bottom, and the heroes were quickly reaching the limits of her projection.

She judged the distance, then backed up a few steps. It was already obviously a bad idea. She took a deep breath, clenched her jaw, and threw herself over the edge.

She expected to spend a few moments hanging in mid-air, even feel a hint of weightlessness. Instead the mouth of the sinkhole swallowed her whole without hesitation, and she hit terminal velocity so quickly that she didn’t notice any freefall. The rock walls and deep green vegetation of the cenote sped into a blur. The rush of air was loud enough that even her yells were pushed aside. She struggled to keep her wings shut, and focused her Pegasus magic. A gust of wind shot towards Rose from above, pushing her into the wall and forcing her to cover her eyes and look away. At the same time another gust flew right into Daring Do, sending her tumbling for a second before she could right herself.

It took less than a second to pass Daring Do and Rose. Suddenly the cenote was very, very shallow, not nearly as deep as she’d thought, and she could see the bottom, a small, beautiful turquoise lake rushing up at her. She shrieked, flaring her wings and kicking her legs. The sudden lift shoved her sideways and sent her tumbling end over end and nearly into the wall. In a panic she summoned a burst of wind to slow her approach, but her Pegasus-infused magic went wide—very wide.

Twilight landed in a heap at the bottom, the wind knocked out of her. For a moment she wondered why it was so dry, then heard a low rumble. She lifted her head to see a wall of water rushing inwards from all around, and had just enough time to fling Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith to safety.

Her swearing was muffled by waves crashing over her.

Daring carefully navigated the remaining depths and approached the bottom. Down here the air was turbulent, threatening to send a lesser Pegasus tumbling into the wall. She had flap her wings harder than normal, tilting and turning just to keep still. She wasn’t far from where Rose was waiting, and below she was sure she could see the sparkle of a pool of water, though it was dark enough that she couldn’t really tell.

There was a landing near the bottom, reaching from the wall almost all the way to the middle, only a few meters above the surface of the water. Below that, there were no other ledges, and certainly no other paths. Wherever they were going, this was their last stop, but she still hadn’t found a door or entrance.

There were some ledges popping out from the wall, but none of them looked large enough to support a full-grown pony, and definitely none large enough to reassure Rose. This was a problem. Daring rubbed her chin and concentrated. The proper ledges stopped a few meters above the landing. Daring wasn’t an expert on what Earth Ponies could jump but she’d certainly want to use her wings if she had to make that drop.

Daring recalled the carabiners in her stolen saddlebags. Maybe Rose had some rope she could use to get down the last little bit. It was a long shot, but Daring didn’t feel too good about any of the other ideas bouncing around her head, including using her wingstorm to cushion Rose’s descent, carrying her, or helping her climb back up—Rose would probably want to use Daring as a step stool.

She carefully flapped her way back up to Rose, pausing when she heard a burst of rushing air. The wind had picked up on the surface—

A gust of wind knocked her sideways, nearly into the wall. She fought to regain control, but she was rushing head first towards the rocks. She closed her wings and yelped as she dropped suddenly, but she had to clear the turbulent air. She leaned back and to the side, opening her wings just enough to steer away from the wall in front of her, careful not to slam backwards into the wall behind her.

Something fell past her. “Rose? Rose!”

“Daring!” Rose’s voice was faint, but very much coming from up above.

Daring looked up. She could see a faint silhouette on a ledge far above her. Rose was still up there, so obviously some rock had fallen. She was pretty lucky to have avoided being hit on the head.

There was another silhouette blocking the sky above, dropping serenely in the now-still air. Daring flapped over and plucked Rose’s hat from the air. Her eyes had adjusted to the low light and she could make out the battered, dirty stetson in her hoofs. She looked it over, making sure it wasn’t damaged, but the only thing she could find was a smudge on the inside. She rubbed at it.

“Some sort of writing?” She peered close, holding it up into the meager light. An inscription—a couple words, smeared from Rose’s forehead rubbing against it over the years, probably, as well as a healthy amount of sweat. She couldn’t tell what it said.

She shoved the hat into her saddlebags and flew back up the sinkhole. Rose was leaning against the wall for support and looking over the edge. When she saw Daring her face brightened before she forced it into a disapproving scowl.

“Where were ya?”

Daring rolled her eyes. “Hmpf. I thought you’d be more grateful I saved this,” she said, reaching into her saddlebags and pulling out Rose’s hat.

“Ya found it!” Rose exclaimed, reaching for it and almost losing her balance.

Daring floated back, just out of reach, grinning a teasing grin.

“Hey, give it back!” Rose insisted, no longer smiling.

So rude. “Whaddya say?”

Rose stared at her, then yelled, “Get plowed!” and leapt for her hat.

“Whoa! Whoa! Rose!” Daring cried out, wings flapping awkwardly to try and keep them upright, even while Rose scrambled up and over her, reaching for her hat. Only when they started dropping did Rose seem to realize what she’d done.

Their yells filled the cavernous sinkhole.

Daring coughed, winced, and opened her eyes. The sky had shrunk to the size of a full moon on a cold night. Wherever she was, it was chilly and humid, but the air was still. She was tangled in a pile of limbs and her saddlebags were poking into places they rightfully shouldn’t be poking.

She wiggled herself free, rolled onto her gut, and pushed herself up on shaky limbs. She was sore all over, but mercifully she didn’t feel the familiar agony of broken bones.

Behind her, Rose groaned. “That hurts. Oof, don’t ever do that again, ’kay?”

“Me?!” Daring whirled around. “You’re the idiot that jumped off a cliff!”

Rose climbed to her hooves and glared at Daring. “And yer the idiot that played keep-away with mah hat. Ah don’t like people messin’ with mah hat,” she said, grabbing the hat out of Daring’s hoof and pressing it on her head.

Daring sputtered, “Your hat?”

Rose ignored her and turned to inspect where they were.

Daring reached out and grabbed her shoulder. “You jumped off a cliff—for a hat?”

Rose pulled free from her grip and stepped closer, getting in Daring’s face. She was actually a little shorter than Daring, but that didn’t seem to faze her. “It’s Pa’s hat. Don’t you go sayin’ it’s just a hat after that speech you gave me about yer diary.”

“It’s not a diary!” Daring shrieked.

“And ya got so worked up about it, we’re stuck down here!” She pointed at the sheer walls around them.

Daring’s nostrils flared. She didn’t have to take this! “You jumped—”

“You made me climb down here in the first place, all because ya lost yer Ma’s notebook,” Rose said, shoving Daring in the chest.

“I didn’t lose it!” She shoved Rose back. “You stole it!”

Rose opened her mouth but nothing came out.

“I trusted you with it and you stole it! Like it didn’t even mean anything to you!”

“Dash—”

“Like I didn’t—”

“Dash!” Applejack cried.

Rainbow Dash paused, panting hard through an open mouth ready to say something she’d probably regret after a while.

“You okay?” Applejack asked. She still looked angry, but there was a hint of concern there, too. “Cairo stole yer book, not me.”

“Uh, yeah.” Her anger and frustration quickly lost their foundation and hung heavy and unsupported in the air. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Obviously. Yer just actin’, right?”

“I guess. Mostly. I mean, you did just throw yourself off a cliff and expect me to magically make it okay.”

Applejack’s eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything Dash held up a hoof and said, “Yeah, yeah, it’s your dad’s hat. But—Off a cliff? Really? When I clearly had a good grip on it? C’mon.”

Applejack fumed for a moment. “Just—just don’t do it again, right?”

“Right.”

Clearly uncomfortable, Applejack changed the subject. “Why’d you say Rock had your notebook?”

“Yeah . . . It’s just—Okay. Daring Do sometimes gets super frustrated at Rock, but never when she’s adventuring. She’s always got some way out, or a lucky break, or a trick shot. She always knows what’s ahead, you know? She knows what she’s doing.”

She looked down and forced the words out. “But me? I’m stuck in the bottom of some hole that’s not supposed to be here, in a jungle that’s not supposed to be here, trying to keep a pony that’s not supposed to be here from getting hurt and another that shouldn’t even exist from stealing a valuable bit of history!” She paused to catch her breath. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

She smiled weakly, only briefly making eye contact before sitting and staring out over the ledge.

Applejack sat beside her and said, “You know, if it makes ya feel better, Ah don’t expect you to know what yer doin’, either.”

“Hey!”

“Ah mean it. You don’t have to put on a show fer me. Ah know yer not really Daring Do.”

“I just thought it would be—I dunno—like in the book.”

Applejack asked, “Why’d ya want me to play Rock, then, if yer just gonna fight and yell at her?”

Rainbow Dash chuckled, rubbed the back of her neck, and kept examining the ledge. After a few moments she replied, “Well . . . Rock and Daring weren’t always at each other’s necks. They, uh, they actually had quite the thing going on, according to the books. Like, they hint at it. They keep stealing from each other, and yeah, they fought, but I’m pretty sure Daring enjoyed those encounters. It’s not like all they did was fight.”

“So?”

“So . . . one day Rock lied to Daring—like, really lied—and stole her notebook. Just like Cairo did.”

“You just said they steal from each other all the time.”

“Yeah, but this time they were working together, and—well, Daring was pretty sure things were getting serious between them. Then Rock betrayed her, trapped her, stole her notebook, and tried to make off with the treasure.”

“What an asshole.” Applejack was quiet for a moment, then chuckled. “So, lemme see if Ah got this right: you chose me to be a character that yer character had a thing for? And now hates?”

“I don’t hate you, AJ,” Dash said quickly.

Applejack cocked an eyebrow.

Then Dash’s eyes went wide and she blurted, “And I don’t have a thing for you! I just figured the only way you’d enjoy this was if you played a really cool character! Oh, feathers, I didn’t—”

“Relax,” Applejack laughed, punching Dash in the shoulder. “Ah know what ya meant. Ah just didn’t figure you fer the kind to read trashy romance.”

Dash crossed her hooves and pouted. “It’s not romance.”

There was silence for a couple minutes while they sat in thought, then Dash said, “Hey, we can go back, you know, if it’s not fun anymore. We can totally find you a way out.”

“What about yer book?”

Dash grimaced. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not have to buy Twilight another copy.” At Applejack’s questioning look she explained, “I borrowed it. I think it’s overdue.”

Applejack chuckled, a slight laugh that didn’t stop until Dash had joined in and it had them both howling.

“Of course it is,” Applejack sighed, wiping her eyes.

Dash smiled, then looked up the wall of the sinkhole. “You don’t think there’s actually a treasure, do you? Cairo’s ‘Lost Tome of Shadows’?”

“Ah dunno, all the other junk’s turning true. What’s s’posed to be at the bottom of this hole?”

Dash shook her head. “None of this is in the books. I mean, the cats and the obelisk are kinda similar to some of the stories, but I have no idea what’s down here.” She looked at the wall opposite them and sighed. “If I had to guess . . . a door. We’d be going underground next. But, hey! At least there’s no more heights, huh?”

Applejack groaned. “Yunno, if there’s one thing Ah love more than heights, it’s the dark.” She stood and cracked her neck. “But we’re adventurers, right? Let’s adventure!”

She trotted over to where the ledge met the wall, then paused and looked back at Dash with a teasing grin. “And, look. Ah know ya got a thing fer me and all, ‘Daring Do-Me’, but try an’ keep yer eyes up here, ’kay?”

“Aw, crap,” Dash muttered, burying her face in her hooves.

“Now what?” Daring wondered, looking back at the wall. It stretched far above them, and as deep as they were, no sunlight was actually making its way down to them. They still weren’t at the bottom, but as far as Daring could tell this was the last stop before a very rough water landing. If there was anything down here, and if they were gonna find it, then it was gonna have to be right there.

“There’s gotta be a door or something here,” Daring said.

Rose dropped her saddlebag on the ground and pulled out the lantern. “Hold this.” Rose reached back and came out with their sparkstone wrapped in cloth and some lantern oil. With Daring Do holding the lantern and Rose trying not to spill any oil, they managed to fill and light the lantern. It gave off a warm yellow glow that lit their landing and the closest parts of the sinkhole around them, while throwing the upper ledges into shadow. To Daring, it looked like they were in a tiny pocket world, cut off from the surface.

Rose grabbed the handle in her mouth. Very slowly and with what Daring assumed was a very tight grip Rose hovered the lantern over the edge. Just enough light reached the bottom to show inky black water sloshing around, and large boulders all over.

Daring said, “If you want, I can fly the lantern down and get us a better view.”

Rose carefully set the lantern on the ground and shook her head. “Ah don’t want you droppin’ it.”

Daring chuckled. “You just don’t want to be left here in the dark.”

Rose glared at her, then pointedly looked away and took the lantern back to the wall. As far as Daring could tell, it looked much like the rest of the sinkhole: worn smooth in some places, rough and pocked in others; lines marking various strata; moisture dripping down like the inside of a cave.

The light slid over the walls in a lazy pattern while Rose moved back and forth, bringing her eyes close to the wall to look for indents or cut marks, and moving back to see the whole wall at once. After a few minutes Rose set the lantern on the ground and looked back at Daring Do.

“Grab the crystal, won’t’cha?”

Daring nosed through their saddlebags and emerged with the crystal.

“Does it fit anywhere?” Rose asked, holding the lantern with one hoof.

Daring held the crystal near the wall and started comparing the shape of the rock face with the shape of the crystal. “You know, normally keys have locks, but I’m not seeing anything that looks like a lock here.”

“Maybe it fits on the wall, like a button.”

Daring pressed the keystone over the wall and rolled it over the surface, trying to find an indentation or marking that looked like it matched, but it was a large wall. She groaned. “How are we supposed to find a lock if we don’t even know what it looks like?”

“Well, we know a little about their culture. They worshipped the sun, right?”

Daring nodded. “Yeah . . . but I don’t think the sun’ll go high enough overhead to light this place.”

“What else?”

Daring smiled. Rose seemed to enjoy putting her on the spot, but Daring knew these civilizations like she’d made them up. “They had a matriarchal society. They sent their colts and fillies from home when they were old enough to defend themselves. They sacrificed ponies to ward off the night. Oh, and their magic was based more on superstition than actual science.”

Rose turned back to the wall and moved the lantern over the surface, clearly desperate for some sort of hint or clue.

Daring shrugged. “But it’s not like they were renowned for making hidden doors or digging awesome sinkholes. Pretty normal ancient civilization, right?”

“Maybe.” Rose was eyeing the wall, balanced on one front hoof and holding the lantern with the other. “Maybe not. Take a look.”

“Did you find something?” Daring asked quickly, shoving close to where Rose was looking, feeling that thrill of discovery.

“Ah thought Ah saw something glowing, but it must’ve been a reflection from the lantern.”

“Where?”

Rose lifted the lantern in front of her. Sure enough, some sections of the wall were shiny, while others were distinctly dull and matte. Wherever the light reached, there were hints of some sort of pattern inset into the wall. Daring’s heart raced.

“Ah can’t make it all out, though. The light’s not good enough.”

“It shouldn’t be this dark out. I mean, it’s not even . . . It’s not. . . ” Of course!

“Not what?”

“Nighttime! Don’t you see?”

“Uh, no.”

“Rose!” She grabbed Rose by the shoulders. “They were sun worshippers! They feared the night. They’d lock their doors after dark just like the rest of us!” Daring jumped into the air, unable to contain herself.

Rose nodded. “So we need more light!”

“Yeah!” Daring’s smile faltered. “Where are we gonna get more light?”

Rose looked back at the lantern. “Ah just got the one . . . ya got a lantern of yer own?”

Daring shook her head. “There’s gotta be something.” She eyed Rose’s saddlebags. “How much lantern oil do you have left?”

“Relax. The lantern’s tiny, but it’ll keep burning for a while. And there’s another lantern’s worth in the jar.”

“I wasn’t thinking about keeping the lantern lit,” Daring smirked, waggling her eyebrows.

“Oh, nononoNO!” Rose leapt between Daring and the saddlebags. “We need that oil too much to be wasting it on crazy ideas!”

“What else are we gonna do?” Daring looked up. The tiny circle of sky looked redder than she remembered. “We could spend the next couple hours scouring the wall for something, and maybe we’ll get lucky. Or do you wanna climb back up? I mean, I don’t care either way. We could just go home.”

Rose grumbled for a moment. “No, Ah don’ wanna climb back up. Have the stupid oil. Ah bet Ah can see in the dark better than you can, anyways. And quit rubbin’ yer wings in mah face. I get along without ’em just fine.”

Daring grabbed the lantern oil and splashed some over the surface of the rock, making sure to keep from getting any on herself or Rose or their stuff. Soon the jar was empty, and Daring could smell vapors evaporating off the surface.

“You ready?”

Rose groaned and covered her face. “This is a terrible idea,” she muttered, but handed over the sparkstone all the same.

“More like an awesome idea,” Daring corrected, before striking the stone.

Waves of bright yellow fire spread out from in front of Daring, following the splashes of oil. Daring yelped at the sudden flames and jumped back. Heat and light replaced the dank gloominess of the sinkhole, and beneath the fires the rock itself began to glow, some parts reflecting and playing with the light, sending it bouncing around the cavern. Patterns drew themselves in bright yellow, lazily following the heat of the fire. Soon the air around them stank of burnt oil and smoke, and the wall was crisscrossed with dashes and circles.

“Well?” Rose had turned to watch the fireworks. “See anything that looks like it’d fit?”

Daring scanned the wall, but none of the patterns seemed to match the shape of the stone itself. “Keep looking. Something’s gotta match.” She flicked her eyes back and forth, but it all looked the same—exotic patterns, but nothing that said, “Press me!” or otherwise looked like a door, or a lock.

“What are we even lookin’ for?” Rose asked in a rush.

“I dunno! It’s all just lines.”

Daring and Rose spread apart, trying to cover more surface.

“Daring! The fire’s goin’ out!”

It was. The flames had started flickering towards the edges, and the brilliant patterns were fading, quick enough to watch.

Daring wanted to pull her mane out. So close! “We need more light! Quick! Smash the lantern!”

“No! We are not smashin’ the lantern!” Rose snapped, clearly not so calm either. “What’s on the crystal?”

“Nothing—it’s just clear—Oh, shit!”

“Son of a bitch!”

Rose and Daring made eye contact and then dove for the crystal. Daring’s hooves hit Rose’s and they brushed it over the edge. Daring gasped and leapt to follow it, twisting to grab at the stone as it tumbled towards the water, where they’d never find it.

“Daring! Hurry!” Rose urged, desperation in her voice.

Daring grabbed the crystal mid-dive and threw it back at Rose, who nearly fell on her backside trying to catch it. Even from her view Daring could tell the fire was nearly done burning—apparently rock didn’t burn well without oil covering it. The patterns didn’t last long without fire, either.

Daring flew back up just as Rose leapt at the wall and slapped the crystal onto it, crying out as flames licked dangerously near her face. Patterns burst out from the surface of the crystal, bright yellow and three dimensional.

“Six lines, each bending into a spiral, three circles, upside-down—There!” Daring pulled the crystal from Rose’s grasp, nearly taking Rose along with it, and slid it over the area, just as the last of the flames flicked out.

Nothing happened. “It’s not working!” Daring called out.

“Upside-down!” Rose yelled.

“Argh!” Daring flipped it over and slammed it against the wall.

Light filled her vision, bright enough that she couldn’t tell the lantern from the rock underneath, bright enough that the sky above was black, bright enough that she could see the glow through her eyelids, bright enough—

It was over. The yelling stopped. She looked around and found that she was lying on her side nearly over the edge. A quick flap and she was airborne, and quickly hovered over to Rose, who was leaning back on her haunches and rubbing her face.

“Well?” Rose asked. “Did it work?”

Daring couldn’t tell. The wall looked the same. She floated over the edge; the water below sloshed about, unimpressed with their excitement. Above, the sky had turned an early-evening pink.

“It had to do something,” Daring said, looking back and forth, but the only change she could tell was that the purple glow they’d seen from above was gone. “Something . . . You wanna try again?” she asked, looking around for the stone. “Where’d the key go?”

Rose pointed. By her hooves lay several blackened pieces of crystal; even as Daring watched they seemed to evaporate, taking their hard-won victory and leaving an inky black haze that sank over the side.

“Maybe we can get another one,” Daring suggested.

Rose shook her head. “And do what? Waste more oil?” She looked up at the small opening to the sky above. “It’s probably not even a key. Who says the door is even down here?”

“It’s gotta be down here. That’s how these things go, Rose. At the last moment, just as the heroes lose hope, something opens up and lets them in. We’ve just gotta keep trying.” She hovered beside the wall. “Something that magical has a purpose. Who’d go to the trouble of setting up those fireworks if there was no purpose?”

“So, what, then? Sit and wait for somepony to kindly open the door for us?” She snorted. “Not for long, Ah hope. Ah’m gettin’ hungry.”

“Don’t you have food in your pack?”

Rose frowned. “Wait. That’s not mah gut grumbling. Ya feel that?” she asked, tapping the rock beside her. Dash landed and pressed her ear to the ground. It was rumbling, and getting louder. Pebbles and loose shale started rattling and bouncing around. Something was happening.

Clonk! The two of them jumped as something large and metallic snapped shut very close by. They turned nervously to watch the wall.

Then the floor opened up beneath them and they tumbled into the darkness.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time: Traps or Depths. If you're enjoying the story so far, leave a comment and tell me what you like!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 5: Depths

The two adventurers bounced down the not-so-shallow incline and dropped out of sight. Twilight watched the orange glow from their lantern bounce farther and farther into the darkness, stopping somewhere down below. She waited as long as she dared before following them in, albeit at a more controlled pace. It got dark quick—even with the ceiling hatch left open, the light from their lantern was brighter than the meager reflected skylight. Soon even the purple luminescence from her horn outshone the skylight.

The stone out of which she’d hewn the tunnel was damp and mildewy, and she had to concentrate on putting one hoof in front of the other. Nothing compared to animating a wild jaguar, but she found herself slipping more often than she’d like. After twenty or so meters the tunnel leveled out. Twilight slipped into a convenient hole that hadn’t been there a moment before, and listened.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack—Daring Do and Rose Gambit—were groaning, understandably, but it didn’t sound like they’d suffered much more than bruises and aches. Soon they were arguing with each other. No lasting or serious injuries—not that Twilight had expected any.

But aside from hearing them . . . Currently she was projecting a single, straight corridor, intending to dig it out around them as they explored while giving herself time to design the important rooms and chambers. In order to do so, she needed to know when they were moving, but that meant staying very close, especially in some of the more confined spaces. Many of Daring’s adventures took place in such confined spaces: tunnels, shipping crates, and cages; while Rose was used to crawling around through caves. Twilight couldn’t just open up the space and give herself room. This had to be done right!

Ideas came forth, some useful—Hidden side passages—and others not—Become incorporeal. Movement was easy, then, with hidden rooms and passages, shadows and silencing charms, and distractions. While she wasn’t sure what sort of distractions wouldn’t ruin the illusion, something would make itself known; until then, she needed to lay out the temple.

Absently she pulled from her saddlebags a quill, some ink, and parchment. What would Daring and Rose expect? Traps. Large halls. Tombs and a dungeon. Twisting corridors, making a maze of sorts. What wouldn’t they expect? Her magic lit the page just enough to see, and she started jotting down notes. Easy and predictable stuff first, strange stuff later; and the final confrontation required something grand. Daring wouldn’t be getting out of this one as easily as had before. Twilight laughed her best quiet evil laugh.

She heard noises and peeked around the corner. The adventurers were on the move. She needed to keep ahead of them, and hurried down a side-tunnel that excavated itself in front of her.

Rose shoved the surprisingly heavy Pegasus off of her and sucked in a gasping breath. She was on her back, looking up at the lantern-lit ceiling. Warm yellow light flickered uncertainly across the stone, illuminating a wet, stained rock. There was flat ground beneath her, so they were at the bottom of the chute leading down from the surface.

“Ugh. Land sakes!” she groaned, then winced at the suddenness of her voice. Aside from it and the crackling lantern fire, the only sounds came from her and Daring. The air was still and dry. Rose rolled onto her chest, then slowly stood on shaky hooves. Behind them was that same chute, and ahead of them . . .

A tunnel, hewn out of the bedrock and smoothed immaculately, stretched off into the darkness beyond the reach of their lantern. They were underground, and for all that she could stand comfortably, it might as well have been a tomb.

Beside her, Daring chuckled, a weak laugh that quickly turned into a rough cough and a groan. “That’s three. Thanks for cushioning my landing.”

“Bite me,” Rose said. She found it hard ignore how thick the silence felt. Now, suddenly, there was no breeze stirring the air, no waves crashing below them; there were no birds or animals chattering in the distance. The loudest sounds were groans as Daring lifted herself to her hooves.

Rose took a deep breath. “Echo!” she called, loudly, but instead of a sharp echo all she heard was a long, low reverberation. “Hey, Daring? Ain’t caves supposed to have echoes?”

Daring down the tunnel, then back at her. “Yeah, but this isn’t a cave.” At Rose’s questioning look, she explained, “Sound bounces to make echoes, right? Normal caves have rough surfaces—stalactites and stalagmites, high ceilings—whatever. But there’s nothing here to bounce the sound back at us. The sound just scatters off the tunnel walls. By the time it’s made its way back to us, it’s just muffled into background noise.”

“Are . . . are we under the sinkhole?”

“I don’t think so. We didn’t go down all that far.” Daring shrugged her shoulders loose. “Just feels like it.”

“But this is the temple, right? Ah mean, we’re in the right place?”

“Oh, obviously.” Daring pointed back up the tunnel, towards the entrance. “You were right. The crystal was totally a key to let us in. We’re on the right path.” She laughed. “Of course, it would’ve been nice to just open a door, rather than toss us down a hole, but what are you gonna do?”

Rose wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to be relieved or not. “Good. Ah wouldn’t wanna be stuck in the—in the wrong temple, ya know?” Rose muttered, backing up against the wall. There wasn’t much room for two ponies to stand together. It would be easy to get stuck side-by-side. She felt a little light-headed. “Do ya . . . d’ya reckon there’s enough air down here?” she asked.

Daring frowned. “You know, I’ve never thought about that. It’s never been a problem before.” She shrugged, and set her saddlebags on the ground to pull items out, muttering as she counted the contents.

Rose turned away from the entrance and looked ahead, down the tunnel. She was pretty sure it was level, even if it looked like it was sloping downwards—just an illusion, obviously, since she couldn’t see a horizon to get her bearings. The lantern light didn’t travel far enough to make out an end or door or turning; instead an inky blackness seemed to suck up the tunnel.

She looked up. Daring had said they hadn’t fallen that far, but the entrance was all the way at the bottom of a sinkhole, and they were under a very low ceiling. How much rock was sitting above them? The weight of all that rock above her felt crushingly close. And the air did seem rather stale—no, Daring had said it wasn’t a problem. Or had she just brushed it off? That seemed reckless.

She pressed a hoof to her chest. Her heart was definitely beating faster. Her breathing was shallow, too. The far end of the tunnel seemed to tilt downwards, even though she was sure she’d decided it was flat. She stumbled back, trying to keep her balance as the floor pitched down and away, and landed on her rump.

“Rose?” Daring asked from somewhere down below. “You okay?”

Rose nodded stiffly, and in a very calm voice reported that she was just great, and that Daring ought to mind her own business. She looked up from the not-sinking depths of the tunnel and traced a route upwards, trying to imagine that the open sky was only a meter or two above her, until she reached the top of her vision.

Applejack realized, cross-eyed, that she wasn’t wearing her hat.

Her hoof jerked out from behind her and prodded her scalp. Definitely not wearing a hat. Where was it? When had it fallen off? She whirled around. That first slippery slope looked empty, but then she couldn’t see very far anyways. It certainly hadn’t gone further down the hallway. It had to be up there.

“Rose?”

Applejack ignored her and tried to climb the modest incline, but the floor was slick and she slipped and landed on her gut. She grunted, spread her legs wide to get more grip, and crawled up on her stomach. It worked for a few meters before she slipped and slid back to the bottom of the chute. “No!” she protested, reaching up towards the tiny pin-prick of light at the top of the chute.

“Rose!”

If she’d left her hat outside—if somepony had taken it—

“Applejack,” Dash said, tapping her on the shoulder.

Applejack whirled around. In Dash’s hoof was Applejack’s dirty, sweat-stained, tattered hat, held out for her to grab. She carefully reached for it and, in a motion as practiced as waking up, slid it atop her head. The pressure around her forehead was reassuring and familiar, and she let out a huge breath that she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

“Uh, thanks,” she muttered, adjusting the fit.

“You okay?” Dash asked with a touch of concern.

She was, now. So long as she looked at Dash, the floor ahead wouldn’t pitch forward, and there was plenty of room for the two of them. “Just not used to bein’ underground,” Applejack said with an embarrassed chuckle.

“Don’t worry,” Dash said, resting her hoof on Applejack’s withers. “The door hasn’t closed yet, so it probably won’t. If it gets too tight, or if it looks like we can’t go any further, we’ll turn around. Got it?”

“Door hasn’t closed,” Applejack repeated, looking back and double-checking the little dot of light way out and up in the distance. “Yeah. Ah mean, of course.” She forced a smile. “We just turn ’round and leave. No problem. Ah’ve done this plenty of times before.”

“Uh huh.” Dash smirked. Her hoof snaked around until she was holding Applejack in a lazy half-hug. “And, you know, if you do get scared, you can hold my hoof. I won’t mind.”

Oh, Dash.

Rose shrugged herself free of Daring’s grip and said, “Real smooth. Ah’ll just hold yer hoof, like this—” she reached for a hoof “—and look into yer eyes with a smile, like this—” she closed her eyelids, partly “—and say, ‘Daring Do, you are such an ass.’”

Daring barked out a laugh and yanked her hoof back. “Probably not wise to insult the only other pony down here.”

Rose looked back at the tiny patch of light behind them. Even standing still it seemed to pull away from her. She shook her head. “Might not be the only other pony down here. Even without the map, it’s possible Cairo’s already found his way here. That obelisk ain’t exactly subtle.”

“We’d better get going, then,” Daring said, then waved Rose ahead. “You should probably take point.”

“Why?” Rose looked into the darkness. Faced with the prospect of actually venturing deeper in, the tunnel seemed tighter than it had before—surely it had to end somewhere. “Ya scared?”

“No, but if I’m honest, in ancient ruins like this I’m usually tied up, or stuck, or in a fight. I can spot the obvious traps, and if I already know about them I’m okay, but otherwise?” She laughed. “Let’s say I really shouldn’t have both my wings attached.”

“Here Ah thought Ah was the lucky one,” Rose said, before grabbing the lantern by the handle with her jaw.

“That’s the plan!” Daring chuckled, moving behind her and pushing her forward.

“Hey!” Rose grunted around the handle.

The first few steps felt heavier than they should’ve, but once Daring was moving she forgot she was even walking. The tunnel shot off into the distance, straight and level like the path of an arrow. The ceiling, walls, and floor were carved so cleanly that Daring couldn’t really get a sense of motion save for small clumps of dust passing them by. Behind them, when Daring cared to look, the faintly lit entrance was separated from their island of lantern-lit tunnel by an ocean of deep black shadow, leaving only her intuition and memory insisting the two were even connected at all.

The light from Rose’s lantern bounced and danced across the tiles as they walked. Their pace was slow and frustratingly uneventful: Daring had to watch the lit floor ahead of Rose, and Rose couldn’t talk without setting down the lantern, and neither she nor Daring wanted to stop.

Then Rose gasped and skidded to a stop, and Daring, preoccupied with trying to find some identifying marks on the floor, walked right into her rump. She squawked and fell back, landing on hers.

“Damnit! A little warning . . . Oh.”

Rose set the lantern on the floor and stepped to the side, revealing a large stone double door, flanked on either side by thick columns. She glared at Daring and explained, “Ah didn’t have no warning. It appeared right in front of me. About time, too.” She looked past Daring, back down the hall. “Ah was beginning to wonder if there was some sort of magic going on, leading us in circles.”

Daring stepped back and stared at the door. Unlike the tunnel’s smooth, featureless floor and walls, the stone doors were ornately carved with fine detail. An image of the sun casting strong rays of light upon the ground stretched from the top to the bottom. Daring hadn’t noticed the ceiling rising during the tunnel, focused as she was on the floor, but the door was twice as tall as a normal floor.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

“It’s just a door,” Rose noted. “We went through another one earlier.”

“You don’t get it. The tunnel entrance was just rock. Until it opened there was no hint that there even was something behind it. But this—” she reached up to the door and touched it, felt the sharp relief and thin layer of dust on its surface “—is proof that there was culture here. There’s something on the other side.”

“What?” Rose asked.

“A room full of monsters?” Daring suggested with a smile. “Or maybe a dead tomb full of skeletons.” She shrugged her gear to the ground and pressed her weight against it. She could feel its weight and the age in its hinges, could tell it would drag along the floor. “It’s probably just an empty room. You ready?”

“Go ahead,” Rose said, holding the lantern high.

Daring pressed her shoulder into one of the doors and heaved. The door screeched open then promptly jammed. Daring peered through the narrow gap.

“It’s dark. I don’t hear anything.”

“Let me help,” Rose offered.

With the two of them leaning into the door, they managed to push it open wide enough to place the lantern on the other side and squeeze through.

“Whoa.”

They were in a large, straight, dark room. Dust hung motionless in the light from their lantern, glowing orange and stirred only by their breathing. The lantern light barely reached the far walls, but unlike with the hallway it wasn’t due to distance: the air seemed to suck the light itself from the room, leaving only an off-black haze in its place, dim enough that Daring couldn’t get a sense of depth or distance.

The ceiling was higher than the tunnel’s, and up above was a high balcony that wrapped around the room, supported by thin pillars, though some sections had collapsed, leaving large gaps. The floor was made of the same large boulders as the walls of the tunnel, but these were considerably more cracked, and in some places the floor had been chipped away. A large stone pillar had fallen inwards, reaching almost across the floor to the other side, and large stone tiles were ripped up around it.

Rose grabbed the lantern and walked out from under the balcony, towards the middle of the room. As the lantern moved it shot disconcerting shadows behind the stone pillars around the walls and covered the otherwise still picture with motion. The dust seemed to sparkle in the lantern light and as their breathing stirred up the air for perhaps the first time in centuries the glowing dust looked like flaming embers rising off a large fire.

Whenever the lantern moved, the room came alive with dancing shadows and floating dust that froze when Rose set the lantern on the ground.

At the far end of the room stood two stone statues, peering out of the darkness and guarding either corner of the room. They were tall Pegasus stallions, each covered in armor and holding a spear, wings unfurled in what Daring recognized as a defensive stance. One had been knocked over long ago and the other was missing a leg and part of its right wing, likely the source of the large pile of rubble at its base.

Rose’s voice cut through the silence like a thunderclap. “Daring, look,” she said, pointing to the left. On the wall closest to them was a brazier, mercifully holding a torch inside.

The torch itself wasn’t much more than a thick, sturdy stick: no pitch or cloth to light. They made do, though: in one of Daring’s stolen bags there was an old bandana they could light, and a little bit of the lantern’s oil would keep it burning for a while.

The torch ignited in a flare of orange and yellow, blanketing Daring in warmth. Daring held the torch high, banishing some of the shadows from the lantern. The fluttering, crackling sounds from the torch were familiar and reassuring.

“That’s better,” she sighed. Simply having her own light lifted a weight off of her wings, and with a free hoof to hold the torch—no lantern handle in the mouth for her!—she could talk and move at the same time. She flapped upwards and peeked over the edge of the balconies.

“There’s a way out up here,” she called down. Just one, on the far side of the room from where they’d entered. She flew over and poked her head through. “It heads into another tunnel.”

“That’s good, because there sure ain’t anyway to go down here,” Rose said.

Daring settled beside her. Even together, their light couldn’t quite reveal the whole room. The columns and railings cast long, thick shadows on the walls behind them, even hiding the furthest parts of the ceiling.

“So weird,” Rose continued. “Unless it’s only meant for Pegasi, it’s a dead end. And if not, then there should be a door down here.”

“Maybe there was a ladder before.” It still didn’t feel right. “We gotta get you up there. If we’re gonna keep going, that’s the only way out.” She grinned at Rose. “Do you think you're light enough for me to carry you?”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Ah’ll climb, thank you very much,” she said, pointing first to a section of the balcony that had collapsed into a workable ramp, then around to the door on the far side. There were a couple collapsed sections she’d need to jump, but otherwise it wasn’t a dead end—not yet.

“Hold this,” Rose instructed, pushing the lantern towards Daring. Rose approached the pile of carved rock, and when she stood on the first boulder it seemed stable enough, but she paused short of putting her whole body’s weight on it. “Whoa, nelly. Daring, bring that light over.”

“Too dark?” Daring asked.

“No—well, yeah, actually. From here Ah can’t see the lantern when it’s sitting in the middle there.”

“Whad do you mean? I can see you just fine. There’s light reaching you,” she reasoned.

“Come see for yerself.”

Daring set the lantern and the torch on the floor, and slowly walked backwards. Their lit view shrank quicker than was natural; the farther from the lights she flew, the thicker the darkness got, until the only light was an orange smudge on an inky black surface. It felt colder, too, and Daring felt her mane bristle.

“Ah don’t like it,” Rose announced, and Daring heard her tapping the rubble beneath her hooves. “Ah could see this rock from the middle, but Ah can’t see the middle from here. That’s weird, right? Sight works both ways.”

Daring nodded. “That’s seriously messed up. You could easily get lost in here trying to find your source of light.” She snorted. “Can you imagine? You drop your torch and it rolls away, and you feel around in the total dark, knowing there has to be a lit torch only a few meters away—”

“Can ya fly the lantern and the torch up with me?” Rose asked.

“What’s the matter?” Daring asked, hoping to disguise her own discomfort. “Scared of the dark?” She looked at Rose, another barely visible smudge.

“Of course not,” Rose snapped. “But Ah don’t wanna fall because Ah’m climbin’ loose rocks that Ah can’t see. Otherwise Ah can get around in the dark just fine.”

Daring bit back a reply—she really wanted that torch back in her hoof. “Fine. You’re welcome.”

“Thank you,” Rose said quietly, as Daring Do went for the lights. Climbing the rubble looked hard enough without being blind. Every step seemed to dislodge a small rockslide, and Rose spent more time balancing than moving. Daring had to stay close and offered a hoof several times, even though Rose insisted she didn’t need any help.

Rose reached the top of the rubble. The exposed floor of the balcony went up to her eyes, and she had to rear up to get her forelegs over the edge. Daring set down the torch and watched Rose struggle to get her body weight up and over without a stable floor on which to balance. After a few moments Daring offered her hoof again, and Rose took it with a grunt. She made a final leap and managed to get her body over the edge before the rubble shifted and collapsed even lower.

The balcony was deep enough for Rose and Daring to stand side-by-side facing the courtyard with a little room to spare, and from their position they had a great vantage over the whole chamber.

Rose spoke first. “So, that’s the entrance to the temple,” she pointed, “and that’s the way onwards, which means anypony visiting would have to come through here, make their way up here, then go ahead.”

“Or anypony invading,” Daring suggested. “It’s a shooting gallery. Any invaders try to force their way in here, ponies up here could defend the entrance from above. Unicorns, or Pegasus archers.”

“But why is it so dark?”

“Maybe there was more light, normally. This is pretty old.”

“It still doesn’t feel right,” Rose said, eyeing the tunnel ahead. “Think it’s just in this room?”

“One way to find out.”

With enough light Rose had no trouble crossing the missing sections in the balcony, and the two left the room and its unnatural darkness behind.

Rose led Daring down a stairway that wound back and forth like a snake and dug lower and lower into the earth before levelling out, looking into a large chamber. It was long but not very wide, with carved stone pillars supporting the high ceiling. The smell of burnt oil filled the room: bright golden torches lit the otherwise grey room, and it was warmer in here than in the previous rooms. From the far end, a large stone statue guarded the room.

They stopped at the entrance.

“Uh, Daring, how often have you found an ancient, abandoned underground maze still lit and warm?”

Daring stood and stared. “Dunno, but after all the other weird stuff goin’ on . . . I’m not that surprised.” She looked towards the end of the room. “No door? Did we take a wrong turn somewhere?”

“Might be one behind that statue,” Rose suggested, “or maybe around some corner we can’t see.”

She lifted a hoof to enter the room, and was just about to take that first step when Daring gasped, reached around her neck, and yanked her back. They tumbled onto the stairs.

“What the—What was that for?!” Rose cried, elbowing Daring in the gut and shoving her out of the way.

Daring pointed at the floor ahead. “Do you see?”

“Pardon?”

“The floor!”

Rose looked at the empty, tiled floor, and then back at Daring. “Ah said, Pardon?”

Daring groaned and stood at the edge of the landing. The rough rock that made up the stairs gave way abruptly to a perfectly ordered grid of square tiles. Daring pointed at the face of the closest one; on it was a strange symbol carved in relief. “The floor is . . . trapped!” She waved her hooves in the air with a flourish.

Rose cocked an eyebrow. “Trapped.”

“Watch!” Daring looked for a suitable rock, and kicked it across. It bounced along the stone tiles for a moment before rolling to a stop on one of them.

Nothing happened.

“Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t heavy enough?” Daring wondered, and started nosing through her saddlebag for something heavier.

Rose’s voice was lined with suspicion. “You’ve been breathin’ too much of the dust, haven’t ya?”

“Every time I’ve gone through a temple like this, those tiles mean I get shot at, or fall through into a bottomless pit—”

“How could you fall into a pit? Yer a Pegasus!”

“Alright, Miss Expert, what do you think it is?”

“Some sort of art?” Rose looked around. “Maybe it looks like something from the right angle, like a shadow. Not every room in here is gonna try and kill ya.”

“Just let me check for a moment. Unless you’d rather try it out yourself.”

Rose sighed. “Fill yer boots.”

Daring flew down the narrow hall, inspecting the walls on either side. She muttered to herself, and occasionally paused to tap at the wall. Once she reached the end she turned around and shrugged. “Maybe it isn’t trapped?” she suggested, her voice carrying down the hall. “I don’t trust it. Maybe you should just stay there.”

“Stop bein’ paranoid. If this place wanted to kill us, it wouldn’t be with drawings on the ground. If anything, that statue would magically come to life and charge us.”

“But . . . traps!”

Rose rolled her eyes and stepped forward. Her hoof hesitated. She groaned. Now she was being paranoid. With a determined face she stepped onto the first tile.

Nothing happened.

With a small sigh of relief, she walked down the hall, stepping on tiles at random. Daring was grumbling by the time Rose made it to the end. “You know, you said you’d be willing to use your imagination, Rose.”

“Sorry, Daring, I just don’t like imaginin’ myself gettin’ pincushioned.” She pointed through the statue at the wall. “Is there a doorway back there?”

“Yeah. I think so,” Daring said. “At least the outline of one. Trouble is, I don’t think we’re gonna be able to push the statue out of the way, and if we knock it over it’ll just get stuck.”

“Is there a lever or somethin’ that slides the statue over?” Rose asked.

“Doesn’t look like it’s supposed to slide over. I don’t see any scratch marks or rails.”

“Up, then? Something’ll make it move.” She looked up at the stallion. It was a Unicorn, fully grown and twice as tall as Rose, made of the same rough stone as the previous statues. Unlike the guards in the entrance hall, this looked more like a sorcerer: in one hoof it carried a long, simple staff, and it had ornate jewelry carved around its neck. Its face was featureless and flat, while his horn was blunt and short, though that might’ve been wear.

“Whaddya think?” Rose asked.

“I recognize it. Him. Magnet the Mighty, I think. He was a ruler in these lands back when this temple would’ve been built.” Daring pointed to his cutie mark, a rock or stone roughly engraved on his haunch. “That’s supposed to be a lodestone. An early magnet.”

Rose stared at Daring. “How in Equestria do you know that?”

Daring shrugged. “Research. I remember knowing more about him, but it’s all in my notebook.” She grumbled. “Stupid no-good thieving Unicorn.” She looked at the statue and added, “No offense.”

Rose looked behind the statue. A large rectangle nearly as tall as the statue was set into the wall. There was a gap between the wall and the stones themselves. Dropping her saddlebags, she reared up against the statue and reached a hoof in between it and the wall, twisting to get some leverage against the door, but it wouldn’t give. When she pulled back she’d collected a slight covering of dust down her shoulder and foreleg.

“No good,” Rose said. “We’re gonna hafta move it outta the way. Heh, too bad this guy ain’t rearin’ up. We could topple him forward.”

“Check the statue,” Daring suggested. “Maybe some part of him is a button or a lever or something.” She poked his cutie mark, without success.

Rose focused on the statue and tried to picture where such a button or lever might be. Daring leapt up onto the statue’s back and started prodding his mane and facial features; Rose knelt low and inspected his hooves and the floor around them. Daring tapped several times down his spine and withers. Rose poked, prodded, and knocked at the staff. Nothing.

“Ready to give up?” she asked.

Daring jumped back and tried to pretend she hadn’t been caught peeking between his legs. “I was just looking,” she insisted.

“Uh huh. It ain’t no magical or mechanical wonder. Just plain stone. Help me push it.”

“That’s it? Just push it aside and keep going?” Daring slid her saddlebags to the floor and pushed them out of the way beside Rose’s.

Rose looked at her, an eyebrow cocked. “An honest adventurer don’t spend her time imaginin’ danger. She just needs to be ready for when it comes callin’.”

“Honest adventurer?” Daring rolled her eyes. “I’m not ‘imaginin’ danger’. I just expected it to be a little more, you know . . . challenging? Exciting?”

“Watch whatcha say, Daring Do,” Rose said, turning to the statue and leaning into it. Unlike bucking a tree trunk or a jungle cat’s muzzle, shoving was easier from the shoulders. Above, Daring rested her weight between the statue’s hip and the wall.

“Exciting’s overrated.”

Above, separated from Twilight by an ornately carved tile floor that certainly wasn’t trapped and also certainly wasn’t broken, the two adventurers counted down from three, stopping partway to argue about whether to push on or after ‘one.’ Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith floated in her grasp, open to a particular passage about midway through the novel.

The two adventurers cried, “Heave!”

She listened to them grunt and strain, felt their weight shift the projected surfaces ever so slightly, and turned her head to catch the breeze from Daring’s wings. If she focused, she didn’t even need to see them. She could certainly hear them complain that her statue shouldn’t be so damned heavy.

She cocked an eyebrow. “It’s solid stone, you guys,” she said to the empty room.

She turned her attention to the book. Daring Do had indeed heard of Magnet the Mighty, although not in this particular story. The forgotten Metalsmith had worked powerful magnetic energies into his weapons and defenses, and while Twilight had an active imagination, it didn’t hurt to draw inspiration from proven sources.

“Well, book? Shall I let ’em have it?” she asked. If she was going to talk to something, it might as well be the book.

A page flicked idly in the wash from Daring’s wings.

“Good enough!” With her horn uncomfortably warm from the strain of continuous use, she reared and slammed her hooves onto the stone. Purple lines of magic traced the tiling and disappeared into the walls, hurrying to join and complete the newest versions of her manipulative spells. “Now, Daring Do, it’s up to you. How much do you know about Magnet the Mighty, hmm? Have you really done any research?”

The adventurers pushed and strained and shoved and groaned, and got nowhere.

Daring sat on the statue’s rump, leaning against its tail, and huffed. “You know, I half expected his tail to be a lever, or something.” She knocked it gently, but it was attached quite solidly to his dock.

From below, Rose panted, “Stop yappin’ and start pushin’!”

“Relax, boss,” Daring said. “I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”

“Yeah, yeah. ” Rose stepped back. “Ah got the feelin’ there’s something back at that wall he’s pointin’ at,” she said absently, walking back towards the entrance.

Daring hovered above her saddlebags and rifled through them. Her canteen was suspiciously light. No way had she drunk that much. Her gaze shifted towards Rose’s bags.

“You find anything?” she called out casually.

“Not yet. Help me look!”

Daring checked over her shoulder, then quickly swapped canteens. Rose’s was still nice and heavy. She flapped up and rested on Magnet the Mighty and took a swig. The water was nice and cool down her throat, great in the warm room, and the metal casing was cool against her hoof. She replaced the cap and went to return her new canteen to her saddlebags; as the canteen passed Magnet’s haunch it shuddered.

“What.” She held the canteen over his cutie mark. She could definitely feel a pull. “No way! Rose!” she yelled. “His cutie mark! It’s magnetic!”

“Hay!” Rose called out. “You holdin’ mah water? Don’t you dare drink any!”

“Check it out!” She held the canteen by its strap and let it swing into contact with Magnet the Mighty’s cutie mark—

A great bang clapped against her head, and a flash sent stars swimming across the ceiling. Daring blinked hard and found she was on her back on the ground.

“Oof! What happened?” she asked, rubbing her head.

“Daring! Move!” Rose yelled.

Daring looked down between her legs just in time to see the statue swing its staff in a clean vertical arc towards her. She rolled to the side, hearing the staff rail against the stone floor with a crack that rattled her skull. She got her hooves underneath her and shot off, skidding to a stop near the entrance beside Rose.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Rose hollered.

“I didn’t do anything! He just . . . turned on!”

Magnet the Mighty faced them and shook himself loose, sending a cloud of dust floating towards the ground.

“He’s gonna charge us, ain’t he?” Rose asked, backing up towards the entrance. “That’s why the room’s so narrow! He’s gonna charge us!”

“Calm down,” Daring panted, keeping her gaze on the living statue. He was shifting his weight, as if he were testing his new body. Daring continued, “Just like a bigger, harder cat. Dodge, get behind it, and knock its lights out.”

“Knock its—Sweet Celestia, it’s a statue, not a cat! It shouldn’t have no lights to knock out!”

Daring chanced a look at Rose. In the clearing, she’d looked like wildfire trying to burst out of a pony. Now she looked small and scared. Daring gulped and, ignoring the frantic protests in her head, turned to place herself in between Rose and the statue.

“Relax,” she said quietly, moving her head to block Rose’s view. Still no sounds of hooves racing down the stone track. “We’re still here. If he were gonna beat us outright, he’d’ve already done it. That means there’s totally a way past him.”

Rose stopped trying to look past her. Daring kept going, hopeful that something would give Rose the kick she needed. “It’s just magic. Unicorns pull this crap all the time. Nothing scary about it.”

“Yeah, got it.” Rose took a deep breath, reached forward with a hoof, and shoved Daring to the side. “Ah still gotta see what he does. Ah ain’t gettin’ run over just because you won’t shut yer trap.”

Daring grinned. “Much better!” She took to the air and hovered right above Rose. “Just, uh, don’t look behind you.”

“Why not?” Rose asked carefully.

“The door shut behind us. We’re now officially locked in.”

Rose didn’t say anything for a few moments. On the other end of the track the statue fixed them with the business end of his stick.

“’Course we are.”

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time, either The Riddles of the Magnet Sphinx or Shattered Bedrock. Leave your guesses in the comments section!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 6: Shattered Bedrock

Magnet the Mighty suspended his staff in the air ahead of him and charged. Rose leapt into a run, unsure what quickening their encounter would accomplish but unwilling to be pancaked between two stone walls. Daring Do flew ahead, trying to distract him, and light from the torches jumped and danced in the wash from her wings. As they closed the distance the statue raised his staff high, aiming to try and knock one of them out.

The hall was three times as wide as the statue. Magnet the Mighty barrelled down on her slightly to her left, allowing room to swing his staff. Rose ran down the right, eyes fixed on the weapon and on his balance, trying to guess what he’d do. Her plan wasn’t exactly surprising, but hopefully his long nap would hinder his judgement.

The track was long, and it felt like eternity until they were close; then suddenly Magnet the Mighty was barreling down on her with the inevitability of a locomotive. Only now did Rose really get just how much larger than a pony the statue was: if she crouched he could probably run right over her.

He raised his staff and swung to fill the void to his left.

Rose dipped to her left and jumped, smacking herself against the wall just as the statue galloped past, swinging at empty space.

She landed clumsily and nearly fell on her face. Daring Do hovered in front of her.

“That was awesome!”

Rose groaned and steadied herself. “He ain’t gonna fall for that again,” she said, turning to watch Magnet the Mighty. He’d skidded to a stop at the other end.

Dash stamped her hoof and exclaimed, “Oh! I got it. I got a plan. When I yell, jump.”

“What!? I just told you he won’t give me any room again. And I can’t jump high enough to clear that stick of his.”

“Like I said, I got a plan. He’s still just a statue. All we need to do is break his horn off or something. But one of us has to get in close.”

“Right. Whatever. Here goes—hey, what’s he doing?”

The statue held his staff and wove a pattern through the air. Behind them Daring and Rose heard a clattering noise. As they turned to look several items burst out of their saddlebags and shot towards them. Rose dipped and twisted as Daring’s canteen and the lid from their empty jar of lantern oil whistled past her. Daring dodged a pair of carabiners but caught the blunt end of a hammer to her forehead and toppled back. The metallic items converged in front of Magnet the Mighty and formed a dense, spiked lump that seemed to hang from his staff.

“Ow!” Daring yelped, rubbing her face.

“Why the hay do you have a hammer?” Rose asked.

“It’s not mine! Just—Ow. Just be ready!”

Magnet swung his mace-and-no-chain and took off at a gallop, keeping close to the wall on Rose’s left. Rose pressed her hat tight to her head and followed suit, while Daring Do fell behind her. The statue was swinging his staff differently, sending most of the motion to the mace in a tall, upwards circle. In seconds they covered half the distance between them.

From up close she watched the weapon in its arc. Magnet the Mighty was swinging it underhoof, meaning it was on the bottom of its swing when it flew at Rose. She had to jump over it, a sickening notion considering her more recent experiences with jumping and landing.

“Get ready!” Daring yelled from farther back. The mace swung up and back at a terrifying speed. Magnet was right on top of her. The ball of metal swung down at her, suddenly large and heavy and spiked.

“Now!” Daring yelled. At the same moment she heard a low roar from behind her. She stumbled in surprise and her jump was sloppy, not nearly high enough, but suddenly she was travelling nearly straight up, clearing the weapon just in time. Daring’s gust sent her up and to her left, and with the grace of a rock Rose tumbled through the air, landing precariously on Magnet the Mighty’s back, facing backwards.

Instinctively she straddled the stallion and held on as he tried to buck her off. Straps swung up and in her face; those same instincts had her bite down to grab them like reins. Compared to jumping and leaping and flying, this was easy. This was something she could do.

“Look out!” Daring called. Magnet the Mighty swung his staff at Rose, sending the metal ball of pain her way. She ducked, leaning low over Magnet the Mighty’s side. The mace smashed into the wall and shattered into pieces.

Rose turned and righted herself on his back and pulled on the reins. Magnet the Mighty jumped and kicked, trying to throw her off. She was an experienced bull rider, but he had no saddle and was hard as stone. A well-timed kick send her flying, reins still in her mouth. They snapped tight, then suddenly she was free, landing in a heap on the floor. Rose shut her eyes, waiting to be crushed below Magnet the Mighty’s heavy hooves.

The chamber went silent.

Rose found that she was still breathing. When she realized Magnet the Mighty had stopped moving she unfolded onto her back and spat the reins from her mouth. She was sore all over, especially between her hind legs. I don’t think I’m gonna walk right for a week, she thought.

Daring’s face appeared over her own.

“That. Was. Awesome!” she cried.

Rose ignored her and looked at the reins, only recognizing them after a moment of bewilderment.

“Hay, mah canteen!”

“He froze the moment you pulled the canteen off of his cutie mark,” Daring explained, standing in front of the statue of Magnet the Mighty, thankfully still as any other statue. He’d frozen mid-buck, with his rear legs kicking out and an unimpressed expression carved into his face. “Dunno how he’s balancing like that.”

“Maybe he’s stuck to the floor. That’d be why we couldn’t move him earlier,” Rose said.

Daring waited as Rose rubbed some life back into her hindlegs, looking away both for privacy’s sake and because just watching Rose’s wild ride had made her ache. “So long as we don’t bring anything magnetic into contact with his cutie mark, we should be okay.”

“What about the door?” Rose asked.

“Stuck. Still won’t budge.”

Daring heard her moving, and chanced a look. Rose was wincing and walking a little bow-legged. Daring covered her smirk with a hoof.

“Shut up,” Rose said. “We still gotta get through that door. Got any ideas?”

Daring looked from the statue to the door and back. “As a matter of fact . . . How do you feel about being bait?”

Rose’s eyes narrowed.

Yelling and hollering preceded a ferociously loud crunch. Light and heat burst out of the door, spraying dust and chunks of rock into the blackness, followed by the fossilized neutral face of an otherwise angry Unicorn.

Those yells quickly turned to cheering, then sighs of relief. Several moments later two faces appeared in front of the hole they’d detonated in the door. It was cold and dark, except for the light pouring in from behind Daring, and aside from the occasional trickle of dust Dash couldn’t hear anything moving.

“Hold up,” she said. “I’ll squeeze through and help widen the door.” The statue was blocking most of the hole they had made.

“You callin’ me fat? Ah’ll make it through just fine. Ah opened it, anyways.”

“What? It was my plan that got us through.”

“And Ah was the one that risked her neck to break that door down. Outta the way!”

“Move!”

“Move yerself!”

Something gave and the two tumbled into the room. Daring blinked dust from her eyes and brushed off a few stones with her wings. Beside her Rose climbed to her hooves and shook herself clean.

“Alright. What’s next?” Daring asked, holding up her torch and looking around. “Poison darts? Falling boulders?”

“That,” Rose said, pointing across the room. Between them and a doorway on the other side, lit by the soft pulsing orange of Rose’s lantern and the fluttering yellows of Daring’s torch, was a large book stand. On its slanted surface lay something book-shaped.

“Is that . . . the Tome?” Daring asked. “Just like that?”

“Makes sense,” Rose reasoned. “A powerful magic statue guarding the Tome, deep under the jungle?”

For a moment they stood in the debris of their makeshift entrance before Daring shook her head. “No way,” she said finally, and jumped towards the bookstand. Rose followed her over.

Instead of a book there sat a large, stone slate. Unlike the granite of the tunnels and chambers they’d gone through, the slate was jet black with white marbling. It and the bookstand were covered in a thick layer of dust.

She brought her torch near and gently blew dust off the front, revealing a bunch of holes chiseled neatly through. Each was nearly as large as Daring’s eye, and there were dozens of them.

“What is it?”

“No idea. There’s an inscription on the top, though,” she muttered.

“Can you read it?” Rose asked, peering close.

“It’s way too scratched to read it.”

Rose looked at the archway on the other side of the room. “Do you think we should take it?”

“Oh, totally. You wanna have to walk all the way back here when we realize we’re gonna need it?”

“What could we possibly need it for?”

Daring shrugged. “I used to backtrack for this junk all the time. Now I just grab things that look like clues or maps or whatever. Of course, they’re never this big.”

“Well, grab it and let’s keep going.”

“You grab it. You’re the tough, reliable Earth Pony.”

Rose smirked. “Aww, is the big rock too heavy for the poor little Pegasus?”

Daring scoffed. “Of course not! But I can’t fly if I’m carrying it.”

“Good. Maybe if you were stuck down here with me you wouldn’t be so quick to get us into trouble.”

Daring narrowed her eyes, then turned to the tablet. “Fine. No problem. I can totally carry it.” With Rose’s help she finally slid it into her bags. Immediately her saddlebag tried to slide off, lifting the other side up. “Gimme some of your stuff. I’ll hold it.”

Rose cocked an eyebrow. “Ah don’t actually care how strong y’are, you know? No need to show off.”

Daring had to lean far to the side to keep balance. “This thing’s really heavy. If you want me to carry it, you gotta balance it.”

“Okay, okay, Ah got it.”

After a few minutes, her load considerably heavier than before, Daring led Rose through the archway and into the tunnel, walking slightly bow-legged as well.

Twilight held open The Legend of the Metalsmith as she worked. She couldn’t focus on it, given the attention required and the difficulty involved in excavating large volumes of bedrock, but she knew this section by heart. It wasn’t the most exciting—that would be Daring’s underground minecraft ride—the most suspenseful—at one point Daring had to double-down on the success of several plans which could come to fruition only far in the future—or the most well written—A. K. Yearling’s beautiful description of the mountain itself took that prize—but it seemed the most relevant; and besides, Twilight had a thing for poetry.

“The mountain towers over us,” she recited; “its spires capped with cold,
Still slumbering and tempting foolish mortals seeking gold.”

And she was making fantastic progress, too. Shutting her eyes tight and leaning into her horn, she swiped upwards through the air, cutting through far less resistance than normal. As her horn sliced a vertical arc through the air the bedrock in front of her separated from the wall and fell with a head-rattlingly loud crunch.

The pull against her horn fell away and she opened her eyes. A rock the size of a small rail carriage sat in front of her where before there had only been an empty wall; by her estimates nearly two hundred tons of limestone had sheared free. Breathing hard, she nodded in satisfaction, brushed some pebbles from the book, and watched as the rock gently sank into the surrounding bedrock, to be reabsorbed and settled somewhere else.

“Beneath its massive vault abyssal horrors, red and old,
Claw endlessly in timeless deadlock, seeking that forbidden sky.”

In the novel, Daring Do had followed tales, rumors, and lore about the mythical, long-gone Metalsmith to an ancient mountain range. There, she’d discovered abandoned factories and derelict foundries dug into the side of what turned out to be a volcano. That poem was engraved deep in the mountain, detailing both the fate of the Metalsmith and hinting at a powerful magic lost to time.

The best type of magic, Twilight thought with a grin: powerful and ready to be discovered. She slashed another boulder free, raising a forehoof to block the spray of dust, and recited more from memory:

“But even greater mountains have been burned by heat and flame,
And now a simple quake reveals those we cannot name.
Deploying massive diggers, crawling forth with careful aim—”

The poem approached its climax. Twilight closed her eyes, spread her hooves for balance, and took a deep breath—

Drip

Twilight paused, feeling a wet impact on her scalp. That shouldn’t’ve happened: the interior of the tunnel was dusty and dry—she’d made it that way, inspired by the book’s forges and furnaces. She certainly hadn’t added any water. Twilight looked up, only to catch another drip right between her eyes.

“Ack!” she cried, wiping at her face. Conjuring a small bubble around herself and the novel, she jumped and flew up to the ceiling to inspect. Water was definitely seeping through from somewhere up above.

“Damnit,” Twilight muttered. She hadn’t even considered the presence of an aquifer. Of course, she had chosen this area for its porous, easy-to-mine rock; it was entirely natural for water to sink into the rock itself. A well dug deep enough into the ground here could probably produce enough water for a small settlement.

She tapped her chin, watching another droplet slide down the rock and drip onto the ground. “Well, cold and damp isn’t great, but at least it’s still immersive.” She’d have to account for moisture, slippery surfaces, and the lowered temperatures, but that wasn’t too hard. And just like her excavated boulders she could sink any excess water into the porous rock below.

“A little water never hurt anypony, right?”

No response from the book. She nodded. “Where was I? Heat and flame, simple quake, careful aim . . . ”

Her horn glowed as she prepared another cut.

“The mountain fails!, its shattered bedrock blasting up into the sky!”

She sliced.

The ceiling above her exploded.

She cannoned back down the tunnel with a spin so random she couldn’t tell up from down or forward from inside-out. Her bubble caught between two stalactites and popped, letting in a terrible roar. Twilight landed with a crack on a ledge above the waterline.

She blinked, lifted herself into a sitting position and winced. Her hindleg hurt. It didn’t feel like anything was broken, so maybe just a strain? Likely bruised. It was too dark to tell. She shook her head and tried to catch her bearings.

It was certainly loud; there was a rumbling that seemed both low- and high-pitched. She turned and tried to make sense of the motion on the wall opposite her, before blinking a bit of sense back into herself.

Water was pouring in from a large hole in the wall, landing in a small pool before pouring back down the tunnels. The noise was so loud, so heavy that she could feel it through her chest. She wondered idly if a whole ocean was emptying itself into the room. Shiny, jagged rocks littered the ground around her, the remains from the ceiling and wall that had collapsed inwards. Even as she watched rocks pulled free from above and shot down the waterfall and into the tunnels, toward Rose and Daring.

Twilight gasped. She couldn’t remember whether there was anywhere for the water to go, or if it was going to flood the whole temple. Rose might be able to swim, but Daring certainly couldn’t—she knew from personal experience just how heavy wet wings could get.

Don’t panic. Work the problem.

A to-do list appeared in her mind’s eye, fighting for attention with an image of Rose and Daring trapped in a shrinking air bubble under a mountain of rock—

A) Prevent the temple from flooding.

Twilight nodded. Adrenaline flooded her body, lowering the noise a little and bringing everything into a sharp focus. She erected a barrier, dug directly into the bedrock, blocking access back into the temple. She watched as the water on the other side quickly drained away, while the water level on her side rose alarmingly.

B) Remove excess water.

That was simple, if not easy: the same spell that helped reabsorb bedrock could be used to soak up water, so long as there was enough surface area.

Twilight started cutting into the ground. The rough, sloshing water diffused and diffracted her spells, leaving random score marks all over the chamber; and soon water was lapping at her hooves. It was frigid, murky water, covered in foam and a fine layer of dust.

She slashed and felt something deep down give way; then the surface burped and sank slightly. Grinning, she kept cutting, digging deeper and deeper and hollowing out a reservoir large enough to absorb the tremendous flow of water.

Soon the waterline dropped, while the flow from the waterfall had slowed to a manageable amount. Ignoring the pain in her leg, she dispelled the barrier that would otherwise trap Rose and Daring behind her, and looked around. Illumination from her horn gave her a quick glance at her reflection, and only when she saw how thoroughly soaked she was did she start shivering.

Teeth chattering, she sat back, rubbed her forelegs over her chest for warmth, and looked around. Water and mist had soaked nearly every single surface, turning the whole room shiny and slimy. Her saddlebags were still attached around her waist. Sitting patiently on a ledge just above the high-tide mark was Twilight’s book. She brought it over and inspected it: a little water damage, but nothing too bad. It had fared better than she had.

C) Investigate the source of water.

Twilight stood and packed the book in her saddlebags. She couldn’t fly soaked like she was, so she cast a quick warming spell on herself and her saddlebags. The moisture in her coat and mane quickly reached and passed her body temperature, evaporating into the already humid air and leaving behind a deep chill that would take a while to fade. Then she hopped into the air and hovered before the waterfall, keeping carefully out of reach of the spray.

She could clearly see empty space behind the wall. This was what she’d cut into, accidentally. Twisting her head back and forth she could illuminate different sections with the light from her horn, but there wasn’t much to see. It looked like there was at least a little solid ground, so rather than try to climb through and above the rushing water, she took a deep breath and squeezed through the space between spaces, teleporting to the other side, and opened her eyes.

She was at the bottom of a giant cistern. Turbulent water lapped at the rock beneath her hooves before sliding down into the waterfall in the previous chamber. The water stretched out until a steep wall of rock shot out from the surface, reaching up into the darkness, out of reach of even her horn’s light. Twilight stumbled back onto the ledge, tilted her head back, and stared.

“This is incredible,” she breathed. Perpetually wet and misted, the rock shimmered and sparkled like stars on a clear winter night.

As she turned and looked she could hear water crashing from somewhere other than the nearby waterfall. Brimming with excitement she leapt into the air and circled the cistern. Up close to the walls she could see water seeping right out of the rock. Pouring down from up above were more waterfalls, none quite as violent or brutal as the first; these were more . . . majestic than that. Their water sparkled in her light, and their mist swirled gracefully around her wings.

She turned back to the shore. The rock wall was inclined just enough for ledges to protrude outwards, into the air. She slashed at some of the rock nearby. A blast of dust and pebbles shot back at her, and when the air cleared she found a huge void remaining. Graceful, twisting whorls revealed themselves, the inner motions of her magic etched onto the wall. The rock itself had disintegrated.

She looked up and imagined adventure. “This is how we get them both climbing again,” she gushed. “This is how we give them momentum. This is where it gets exciting.”

Twilight’s heart was racing. No longer was she confined to tunnels and chambers; now she had room to think big. She almost didn’t want to keep an eye on the heroes. Ideas raced through her mind, and almost idly she started conjuring wooden ladders and painting the landscape with debris.

D) Build!

Rose and Daring stood in front of a pair of levers on the wall. They were carefully carved out of some dull red rock. One was shaped to resemble a Pegasus wing, while the other looked like a Unicorn horn. On the floor in front of the levers, at the adventurer’s hooves, was a chiseled image of those same items, only there were dozens and dozens of each in a jumbled mess.

“I’m guessing one of those opens the door . . . ” Daring said, pointing at the exit.

“And the other’ll horribly maim or disfigure us,” Rose agreed, dragging a hoof across her neck.

The rest of the small room was interesting, too; the walls had various designs and scenes chiseled into them, and Daring was pretty sure at least some of those markings were more than just imagery. Beside the levers was a rectangular outline, the same size as the doors they’d been passing through.

“Well?” Rose asked. “How do we choose?”

Daring closed her eyes and tried to imagine the contents of her notebook. She’d faced situations like this before; all she needed to do was approach the problem the same way. Without her notes, though, all she could do was guess.

“I want to try pulling them, but . . . ”

“Oh, Ah know!” Rose reached back into her saddlebag and pulled out a rope.

Daring stared in disbelief. “Hold on! You had a rope all this time, and didn’t want to use it to, I dunno, climb down the sinkhole?”

Rose ignored her, held the rope in her jaw and, in a complicated motion Daring couldn’t follow, had it tied into a nicely shaped lasso, anchored to the tip of her tail. Daring tried not to look too impressed.

“It ain’t a climbing rope. Too short, no stretch.”

“Whatever. Can you hook it around one of the levers? If we can figure out which lever does what, we might be able to decode the puzzle.”

“Easy enough.” They stood well back and Rose set the lasso swinging in a slim arc, bending her forelegs to keep her hat out of the way.

“How are you doing that?” Daring asked, wide-eyed.

“Quiet. Ah’m tryin’ to concentrate.” After a few loops to get the timing down, she kicked up with her hindlegs and flicked her tail to send the loop soaring. It landed neatly over the first lever.

“You could’a just tied the rope around it,” Daring remarked.

“This way’s more fun. Ready?” Rose asked.

“Do it!” Daring insisted.

Rose gently tugged on the rope. The lever’s mechanism must’ve been full of dirt: it scratched and pulled the whole way down. Daring fought the urge to reach out and shove it closed herself. Finally the lever clicked shut. They waited, watching for anything to come shooting out at them, listening for the sound of some mechanism triggering above them.

The door rumbled and slid open.

Daring grinned. “Awe, yeah! That was easy.” She checked the lever and its label. “A wing. Good going, guys!” She flared her wings and posed.

“Get those outta my face!” Rose said, before sneezing loudly.

Daring ignored her. “What’s next?”

Through the doorway was another room, slightly larger this time and ringed with pillars supporting a domed ceiling. At the other side, on the wall, was another pair of levers—a torch-shaped lever, and a wing-shaped lever. On the floor was another jumbled bunch of icons.

“Which one?” Rose asked.

“No way it’s the first lever again, so it’s gotta be the one to the right.” She pointed at the torch. “Unless it’s a trick, and the torch is the trapped lever. So . . . the left?”

“Just pick one,” Rose said.

“Uh, left one.”

Rose lassoed the lever. “Ready?”

Daring nodded.

Rose gently tugged on the rope and after resisting for a moment the first lever slid down. Something in the walls ahead clicked shut with a smooth metal clang and out of the ceiling swung a long, wide, rusty blade, scything through the air a centimeter from the lever, severing the rope. The lever clicked back into position as the blade slid back into the ceiling.

Daring gulped. Rose growled. “Ah don’t have many of those.” She untied the remains of the lasso from her tail then carefully approached the lever. “That was the wing. Huh, Ah always knew those things were dangerous.”

“So, you wanna pull the other one?”

They stared at the pair. Logically, Daring knew the lever shaped like a torch was safe, since the other clearly wasn’t.

“No way both of ’em are trapped.”

“No?” Rose asked. “If we went the wrong way somewhere else, maybe none of these go anywhere. Maybe the dangerous lever changes each time. Hey, maybe this whole thing—”

“Don’t get all crazy, Rose.” Daring took a deep breath and reached for the torch.

Rose shifted beside her before finally stepping back. “Be careful,” she said.

“This’ll be fine.” She eyed the torch. “Uh, it was the wing that was trapped, right?”

“Yeah. Pull the torch.”

Daring gulped, clenched her eyes shut, and—

“Wait. Wait!” Rose hollered.

Daring released the lever and leapt back, falling on her rump. She looked back and forth, looking for the blade sliding down to remove her head, but there was nothing. After a moment she focused on Rose, doubled over with laughter.

“Gotcha.”

Daring made a rude gesture, grabbed the torch-shaped lever, and pulled. The moment the lever clicked down she let go and scrambled back, but after a moment’s hesitation the door slid open.

“Thanks,” Daring sneered. “No sweat.”

“Well, sure, but what about the next one?”

She had a point. They had no idea how many of these they’d have to chance through, and even if Rose was particularly lucky on the worst of days, their odds got worse and worse each time. They needed to solve the puzzle.

Daring led Rose through to the next room, where a third set of levers waited. This time there were four of them: a wing, a torch, a horn, and a hoof. Again, there was a plate of jumbled images below them. They looked haphazardly placed, but somepony had taken the time to chisel in each and every picture.

Daring eyed the cryptic jumble of images. “Something about these pictures . . . Let’s figure this out.”

With the torch and lantern close and their noses nearly touching they scrutinized the pictographs.

“More wings than torches?” Daring wondered.

“Each of these are right-side up—no, wait. . . ” Rose said.

“Wings, horns, and hoofs represent ponies, but torches don’t. . . ”

“S’pose ya need to pull them in some sorta order?”

“Move, you’re blocking them.”

“You don’t need to touch ’em.”

“What if some of them are buttons?”

“It’s a solid brick, ain’t none of ’em buttons.”

Daring sat back and let Rose inspect the images. She knew Rose was good at solving puzzles, but it wasn’t always about numbers and relations; Daring had to feel with her gut. Sometimes, though, her gut didn’t communicate all that well.

Rose stood and wandered back through the earlier doors; after a few moments she said, “Hey, these pictures are nearly the same as those over there.”

“The same, how?” Daring asked, eying this newest set.

“Same size, almost same layout, same spread. Just the pictures themselves are different.”

Same size? “See if there’s something carved into the walls or something that’s the same size. Something’s gotta let us decode those patterns!” She carefully grabbed the safe end of her torch in her mouth, framed the image with her hooves and held them still, then floated around the walls looking for something that matched the size.

This chamber was much larger than the others. The ceiling extended up half again as high, and the room itself was much wider, with more space between the doors. The odds of them being hit by a random, slicing blade were less than they were in the first two tiny chambers, but that only meant it wouldn’t be a sword trying to do them in; it’d be something long-ranged, like poisoned darts, or gas.

She shuddered. Or something moving. No use pulling the levers at random. But she shouldn’t have to. Plenty of times, in other dungeons and trapped temples, these puzzles were everywhere—and Daring could always solve those puzzles. Sometimes it was some seemingly insignificant fact, like the way ancient Marexicans wrote from right to left, leading to the correct translations throughout a labyrinth. Other times it was a pattern, like the floor tiles over a lava pit.

Of course, sometimes the solution had to be yelled into her skull.

“You mean something’ll let us pick one of the pictures outta all of ’em?” Rose asked from two rooms back.

“Yeah!”

“Then get back here. And bring yer saddlebags!”

Daring hauled the bags over and slid them to the floor beside Rose, who pointed at the floor.

“Ah was thinkin’, there was something familiar about these tiny pictures. They ain’t just jumbled up—they’re all pointing the same way, drawn exactly the same, and they’re all the same size. It’s just their spacing that changes.” She reached into Daring’s saddlebags and heaved out the heavy stone tablet. She touched a corner to the corner of the pattern and let it fall with a whumpf into place.

“Awesome,” Daring muttered. Where each of the images had been chiseled into the floor, the tablet conveniently covered them. Where each of the holes had been drilled into the tablet, none of them revealed any images—except for one tiny image that focused right in the center of one of the holes.

“The wing!”

Rose carefully lifted the suddenly very valuable stone, carried it over to the next pedestal, and slid it into place. This time, it was a different hole that revealed the symbol. “Torch!”

“So far, so good.”

Next was the largest room yet, with four levers. The tablet had fit both pedestals perfectly, and with the pattern finally at hoof they were one step closer to the treasure at the end of the temple. And, after hours of stumbling and exploring, they were finally making progress on their terms. Daring and Rose shared a grin as they hurried down the tunnel toward the final chamber.

Daring only registered the pins-and-needles feeling after a slab of purple magic flashed into being in the center of the room, just in time to trip them and send them tumbling. The tablet flew through the air.

“No!” Daring cried, reaching a hoof in a desperate, pointless grab to catch it.

The tablet landed on a soft cushion of magic, where a steel-laden hoof notched it into place.

Daring groaned, but Rose was up and on her hooves quicker.

“Cairo!” she yelled, rushing towards him. Cairo waved a hoof in her direction and she tripped over a brick that hadn’t been there a second ago, sending her sprawling face-first across the floor.

“Stop that!” Daring yelled, taking to the air and lunging at him. Hooves outstretched, she made to slam into his smug face, but he was gone in a crack and a flash of light, smoothly teleporting himself just beside her, just in time to swing his foreleg against the small of her back. Daring landed on her gut with her hooves splayed out and groaned, reaching for her back.

“So good of you to join me, Miss Do. I was wondering if you would catch up or not. You do not disappoint.”

Daring snarled. “You son of a mule’s—”

Cairo clamped her jaw shut shut with a glowing fist and a tingling vice grip. He leaned close and said very slowly, “I hate when you yell, Daring.” When she stopped fighting he released his hold over her face and walked out of sight.

“And Miss Gambit!” he said, his tone light and casual, as if they were discussing the weather. “I’m so, so glad you escaped those horrible beasts. If they’d put a scratch on your coat I’d just die.”

Daring tried to twist her head to see him, but he kept her pointing towards the wall. No matter how hard she strained, she couldn’t look far enough to see him or Rose.

“Oh! You’re injured! Who did this to you?” he asked.

The whole chamber was lit in purple; Daring supposed his magic was covering Rose’s whole head and likely her whole body. Daring couldn’t see what he did, but she could hear when Rose started grunting in discomfort, hissing and trying to keep her breath steady.

“Relax. Relax!” Cairo whispered to Rose. The feeling of pins and needles swept over Daring and she stiffened. “There you go. Much better.”

“Stop hurting her!” Daring cried.

Cairo ignored her and walked around the chamber. She could just see her notebook hovering in front of his face as he paced.

“Such a clever code,” Cairo said. “Meant to help Pegasi and Earth Ponies make their way through these back passages, I imagine, since Unicorns with even a passing knowledge of scrying magic can see the mechanisms inside these walls.” He paused for a moment. “Well, these notes helped.”

“Oh, look at you, so smart,” Daring sneered. “I bet those ponies must seem lame compared to you.”

“On the contrary, Miss Do! The precision engineering behind these traps is simply staggering—and to think they built these machines hundreds and hundreds of years ago. If anything, I’m impressed.” More hoofsteps on the floor, these louder. Was he right over her? “These days, if you need something kept safe you pay a very strong Unicorn to cover a doorway or room in a powerful ward. So wasteful, especially if you have to get rid of the Unicorn afterwards.”

One of the levers clicked shut, and the doorway just in Daring’s view slid open quietly enough that she couldn’t hear it over the crackling magic covering her head. “It was the hoof this time, Miss Do, in case you care.”

“You’re telling us the code?”

“Hardly matters now, does it?” he said, leaving the room. Behind him his magic gripped another of the levers and pulled. “I’d get somewhere safe, if I were you. It’s not a long fall, but it’s very slippery down there.”

The door slammed shut behind him, and the floor started rumbling.

Twilight released Cairo and in an instant her sight, hearing, and desire to breathe slammed back into her with the subtlety of a hammer. She took a deep, gasping breath and blinked away stars from her vision, but even as she fought to calm herself she still kept a stranglehold on the cavern she stood inside, as well as the chamber that Daring Do and Rose Gambit shared—she could feel the natural environment fighting to restore itself to a more natural design, which Twilight knew meant filling in large underground pockets.

“That’s the last time I manipulate him directly,” she groaned, casting about for the book before finally spotting it off to the side. Had she moved so much during her manipulation—like sleepwalking?

She turned back to the chamber and watched. Tiles started loosening on the ceiling, and in a stroke of artistic brilliance she sent a whumpf of dust and pebbles towards them through the entrance, blocking off the light and sealing the passage behind them. The floor under the closed exit door began crumbling, and whole tiles fell through into darkness below the floor. She set the floor to collapse in a wave advancing towards the entrance door, fast enough that they could see it, and slow enough that they could easily retreat. And, of course, she wasn’t going to collapse the whole floor—they were blocked in, after all.

It was fun, sort of, so long as she didn’t get carried away: she had to create just the right amount of tension and excitement without actually putting them in danger.

And that meant showing them a way out, even while trying to bury them.

“Et, finalement, la pièce de résistance.” A section of the floor fell away, revealing a naturally formed tunnel under the room that lead to safety. The rubble created a convenient ramp, and a small lit torch several meters inside gave enough light that they’d have to notice it right away, and escape just as the ceiling began to collapse.

But they didn’t. They lay there, talking and gesturing frantically instead of escaping to safety.

“Why aren’t they moving?” she asked, trying to hear what they were saying, but the rumbling all around them was too loud. Don’t they recognize the danger? The safety at the other side? Surely Daring doesn’t think she can protect them both from being bricked in the skull? “Why aren’t you moving?!”

The distraction was disastrous. She felt small sections of the floor collapsing out of her control, and without proper support the pedestal collapsed sideways, nearly pinning Daring Do. “Get up! Move!” she yelled, fashioning as clear of a barrier as she could to slide them out of the way, but nothing happened. Her magic butted up against them but they didn’t move.

“Are you stuck?!” she shrieked, frantically searching the room for some sort of obstacle—nothing blocking their path, nothing obscuring their view, nothing visible holding them down—

Cairo!

She released the restraints holding them in place and both adventurers popped up off the ground like corn in a hot pan. Daring flared her wings, clearly relieved to be free, but Rose wasted no time, lining herself up and leaping at Daring. As they collided mid-air, Rose twisted and grabbed her around the barrel, sending them both towards the collapsing floor. Twilight struggled to regain control of the chamber, knocking some of the bricks aside, but fighting so much chaotic motion was ultimately impossible, even for her. All she could do was hold the ramp as steady as possible.

Rose hit the ground surfing, her hindhooves kicking up a spray of debris. Pillars lining the walls collapsed, and a wave of bricks and stonework followed them. Rose scrambled to keep upright but lost her balance on the rough surface and loosely packed debris, sending her sliding down the ramp on her butt. Daring went flying from her grip and Rose had only a moment to reach for her hat and hold it tight to her head before they passed underneath the wall.

Twilight let go of the ceiling. The chamber collapsed into darkness, leaving the heroes to slide to a stop in the tunnel. A cloud of dust filled the tunnel and passed over Daring and Rose, leaving them coughing and dusty. As the rock stilled, Twilight could finally hear Daring and Rose:

“ . . . never doin’ that again.”

“Are you kidding! That was awesome! Except for the whole getting-buried-alive thing.”

“That whole getting-buried-alive thing was the ONLY thing! Ah swear, this temple is tryin’ to kill us!”

Twilight whimpered. She had nearly killed them both, and it wasn’t due to some error in her calculations, or really bad luck; nor had her Pegasus- and Earth Pony-infused magic failed her. It was a failure in judgement. Never mind that she’d figured it out in the end, and that she’d held off the collapsing room long enough for them to slide to safety, or that in the end they’d had an exciting and dramatic escape from danger, with barely a scratch to show for it, which was exactly what she’d wanted; if she hadn’t been lucky enough to remember that she’d restrained them in the first place, she’d be digging out a pair of corpses.

Daring said, “Of course it’s trying to kill us. Wouldn’t be much of a temple if it didn’t. We just have to be ready for anything, and we’ll be just fine.”

“This ain’t some foal’s picture book, Daring! Sometimes the good guys don’t win!”

“What’s with you, Rose? You’ve gotten out of worse cave-ins than this.”

Their voices faded into the background. Twilight fought to keep calm and think the situation through, but she couldn’t see past the collapsing pillars. She sank to the ground and covered her head.

Just relax. They’re safe now. The thought seemed very minute and washed out by images of one of them pinned beneath a beautifully-carved wall piece, begging the other to leave while she pulls and pushes and yells for help and Twilight was having trouble taking deep breaths.

They’re safe now. No thanks to her brilliant idea to give them an adventure without really thinking it though.

Think it through, then. Use a checklist. Clearly, she needed more checklists. Desperate to buy herself more time she held her breath and dove headfirst into checklist land, where one was conveniently waiting. Near the top of the very long scroll, very tidy script informed Twilight that her friends were safe, now, crowded in among erratic writing that she couldn’t really read.

She tilted her head, confused. That didn’t make sense: usually her checklists had instructions. This was all accusations (Twilight knew intellectually that she wasn’t a failure, not really), reminders (Whether or not she’d locked the Library wasn’t helpful right now), and useless facts (Of course Twilight was having an anxiety attack). She rolled her eyes, only distantly aware of a surge of nausea and burning lungs, and kept scanning. There was something she was supposed to do—

There! Below Twilight does not deserve to be an Alicorn and buried under crushed, desperate, and You’re a terrible friend and they’ll never know how much they mean to you and you always do this to yourself were the words Talk to somepony.

Back in school, Twilight was taught to find somepony to talk to, if she thought she was having an anxiety attack—a guard, a fellow student, one of her teachers, perhaps (it was usually a teacher.) Since moving to Ponyville, that somepony was often one of her friends, who gave and gave without asking anything in return.

But now she was a Princess. Just who was she supposed to talk to? Useless checklist. But that was all it said. And now she was running out of breath and if she passed out then there’d be nothing holding back the rock above them—above all of them—and she couldn’t just magic herself out of this one.

She tried to surface and breathe but her lungs weren’t cooperating. How had she let it get so bad?

“Please stop,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry!”

“Snap out of it, Rose!” Daring yelled, from down below.

“Stop judging me!” Twilight yelled back, before clamping her hooves over her mouth in shock. Had they heard?

The book stared at her, impassively. Twilight glared back, until a small, confused smile cracked across her face, followed by a nervous giggle and a hearty laugh. She rolled onto her side and clutched at her stomach. She was arguing at a book.

With the laugh came deep breaths and a calmer heartbeat. Twilight looked down into the chamber. Rose and Daring had moved on into the tunnels. Twilight stood and eyed her checklist. It was nearly completely filled out:

Situation: A) Rainbow Dash and Applejack are deep into an adventure that has become dangerous as well as exciting. (Related: Applejack and Rainbow Dash are safe, now.)

Problems: A) Twilight is about to have an anxiety attack. B) Twilight cannot guarantee the safety of her friends. C) Ending the scene without a happy ending will leave them with resentment and anger, most of it directed at Twilight. D) Ending the scene due to a lack of control will confirm Twilight’s loss of skill directly resulting from becoming an Alicorn. (Corollary: Twilight does not deserve to be an Alicorn.)

Goals: A) Calm down. B) Keep Rainbow Dash and Applejack safe. C) Make Applejack and Rainbow Dash heroes.

Solutions: A) Talk to somepony. B) . . .

Well, she’d talked to something, and now was calmer, but that left Make them heroes and Keep them safe. She rubbed her temples, trying to ignore the headache that was forming in the wake of her little moment.

She really, really didn’t want to stop. Ignoring that it would mean admitting defeat, putting the two most adventurous and actiony of her friends through their paces had been very, very fun. Not to mention the thrill of adventure, discovery, and heroics.

Safe . . .

Excepting their overly dramatized attempted burial, so far both Daring Do and Rose Gambit hadn’t really been injured, per se—no injuries they wouldn’t’ve gotten with an afternoon of roughhousing anyways. But the more adventurous her plans became, the more likely such incidents would occur.

Heroes . . .

And they had been heroes, so far: they were adventurers on a quest against a villain. All they had to do was rescue some poor, innocent pony, and they’d be textbook heroes. Except, of course, if Twilight took care of them the whole time.

They didn’t work together. Heroes didn’t live safe lives, and Twilight knew that heroes didn’t always make it out unhurt. Daring and Rose couldn’t become complacent. No matter how she looked at it, her choices boiled down to a single, yes-or-no choice:

Risk?

If she were honest with herself, she already knew the answer; she’d made the decision long before trapping them in a collapsing chamber, dropping them down a sinkhole, or chasing them with wild animals. She’d made the decision when she decided to make friends in the first place.

“After all,” she said, turning to the book, “even friendship is a risk.”

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time: To Roost or Silly Filly. What do these alternate chapter titles mean?

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 7: Silly Filly

A chill had settled over Rose. Rushing water and a constant splashing sound dulled her hearing. The bottom of the tunnel had turned shiny in the reflection from her lantern, and the air was more humid than it had any right to be in an otherwise dusty old cave. So, she wasn’t entirely surprised when the tunnel opened into a small cave with a short waterfall falling in from above and draining somewhere off into the darkness.

Nor was she entirely surprised when she saw a ladder on the other side of the rushing water, connecting to a path that continued onwards. What did surprise her was that it led upwards.

Daring Do joined her at the entrance and whistled. “That’s new,” she said, loud enough to be heard over the rumble.

“Been awhile since we’ve seen anything normal down here,” Rose agreed, stepping inside. She took a slow, deep breath. It even smelled nice, compared to the dust and stale air in the rest of the temple. The ground was soaked and covered in small puddles. A gentle mist flowed over her, reflecting and scattering their lantern and torch light with a soft orange glow. Moisture was already starting to cling to her coat.

The way forward seemed obvious.

“Here,” she said, passing the lantern to Daring. The ladder was on the other side of the waterfall from them, but there wasn’t enough room on the other side to stand on all fours. To get across she’d need to walk her way along a slim ledge and span the gap over the stream; having a lantern swinging under her chin seemed like a bad idea.

She walked her forehooves up the wall to her right until she was only using them for balance, putting all her weight on her hindlegs. Her saddlebags slid alarmingly down her back but the belt kept them in place. She carefully walked sideways, more shuffling than not, right up to the stream.

It was small, maybe as wide as her leg was long, but it was sure going fast. The waterfall was to her left, or behind her as she was sideways against the wall; to her right the stream opened into another spout and fell into the darkness. She couldn’t hear anything except the roar of rushing water. Despite the narrowness of the gap, the speed and pressure behind the water was alarming.

On the far side was a nice hoofhold she could use to get across. She reached and slid her hoof over the rock until she found purchase, then shifted her weight and stepped across. Water pummeled her hind hooves until she could move them out of the way. Without the rough, jagged edges for grip she wouldn’t have been able to stay upright; below her the rock had been worn smooth, and she had to be careful to not push or slide her back hooves any. It was slow going, probably slower than she needed to go; but after what felt like hours she was across, down on all fours, letting out a sigh of relief.

Daring stood near the entrance, looking at the rocky ceiling and the rushing water.

“You comin’?” Rose hollered.

“Yeah, just . . . It’s pretty wet.”

“So? I’m sure even you bathe once in a while. Just hold yer breath. It ain’t that cold.” That was technically true—she could call it very cool, or maybe chilled.

“Ha ha. If I get my wings too wet I won’t be able to fly. I like flying.”

“It’s not that far. Just climb across. Ah can darn near reach ya from here.” Only if she were to lean out over the water, of course; but without much room for a landing Daring couldn’t even jump across, so climbing was Daring’s only option.

Daring looked to be fighting a mighty big battle inside. Finally she reached out with the torch and the lantern. “Here, take these.”

Rose took their lights. Spray from the waterfall hissed against the hot metal of the lantern. The torch was even more worrying, but they managed to get them both across without incident. Rose kept the lantern close, sucking up its warmth.

Daring carefully made her way across, slipping partway through and leaving Rose particularly tense. “Shut up,” she said once she had all four hooves on the ground.

“Ah didn’t say nothin’,” Rose said politely.

“I normally fly through these things. I don’t go rock climbing all that often.”

“Ah know.”

Daring tried to shake off the droplets from her wings. “Alright, let’s get out of here.” She reached for the torch.

“We’re not done yet,” Rose said, pointing upwards. Past the top of the ladder she could see the base of another. “We might be climbing a while longer.” She kicked the ladder under her hooves. “At least they’re good and sturdy.”

This next ladder was taller than the first, and steeper, enough so that Rose could only move one hoof at a time or risk falling backwards. Her legs were gonna be sore afterwards. Worse still were the saddlebags that threatened to slide off, even after she cinched her straps tighter around her chest. She was not designed for climbing ladders.

At the top of the second ladder the cave bent and twisted away from the river. Unlike the tunnels and halls of the temple, here the ground wasn’t flat or level; watery erosion had randomly worn away and dug at the cave system, rarely concerned with whether a pony could navigate it. Walking was slow going: Rose had to firmly plant each hoof on the least slanted surface she could find before moving the next, and often found herself leaning against the cold, slimy walls for balance, or walking sideways with her forehooves on a higher ledge than her hindlegs.

Rose paused and heard Daring grumbling. “Y’alright back there?” she asked, turning to look.

Daring shrugged. “Once we’re somewhere warm we’ll be fine.” She gave her wings a shake, showering the ground with drops and buffeting the stream back and forth. “I don’t like being wet and muddy. Too cold.”

“Ah’ve seen weather Pegasi in the rain all the time.”

“We try to stay above the clouds when it rains.” Daring unfolded a wing and held it in front of Rose. In the lantern light the moisture wicking down and off her feathers shimmered. “The outer feathers are slightly oily, so rain usually rolls right off. But if it gets into these,” she gestured, ruffling her inner feathers, “I’m in trouble. Light rain’s no problem, but a downpour means I’m grounded. Gotta wait for them to dry.”

“They look dry to me,” Rose commented, peering close.

“Yeah. No problem. So far. As long as I don’t have to go swimming, we’re good.” She looked up the tunnel. “Hopefully it dries up a little, too.”

Rose grabbed her lantern in her teeth and led the way. The path curved further from the waterfalls and climbed reassuringly. Might even see get to the surface in time to see the sunset, she mused.

By the time they arrived at the next waterfall the humidity was already soaking into Rose’s coat and she couldn’t hear Daring’s steps over the roar. She squeezed through a narrow opening, crawled low through another, and pulled herself up onto the floor of another chamber, this one taller than the previous. Rose guessed it had been dug out by the large waterfall dominating the far side of the room.

The waterfall emerged from a small opening near the top at the head of the room, and splashed into a small pool before draining down a steep and narrow edge behind them. Scattered over the rocks around the waterfall were soggy lengths of rope and splinters of wood, the remains of what Rose assumed was a ladder. The walls narrowed in around the waterfall, suggesting the room had been dug out by the rushing water and not leaving much room beside it. It was a dead-end.

She looked up. Above the mouth of the waterfall was an opening, out of which the rushing water had carved a small channel through the bottom. Rose shifted so she was blocking their light; without glaring reflections she thought she could see some faint illumination on the other side. There was room for a pony to squeeze through above the surface of the water, if she was careful. Maybe not a dead-end.

“Ya think it goes somewhere?” she asked, edging as close to the pool as she dared to see through the opening. “Daring?”

Daring did not look impressed. “Nope,” she said, expressionless. “I’m not climbing up that.”

“Ah don’t think there’s any other way up.” Rose pointed behind them, down into the darkness. “Unless you wanna try climbin’ down some more.”

Dash turned and followed the rock lines up and around the chamber. “Maybe,” Daring said finally. “It’s definitely too narrow to fly over it.”

“Look, there’s plenty of ledges and stuff. We can just climb up the sides, right? And stay above the water.”

Daring paced around the base of the waterfall.

“Yeah, yeah. I can live without flying, and they dry quick enough. Let’s get this over with,” she grumbled.

“You go first. Ah’ll help you up—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What makes you think I’ll need help?” She shrugged off her saddlebag, passed her helmet to Rose, and put a hoof into the water. She winced but didn’t mention how cold it was. “We Pegasi are pretty light, you know.”

“Not when yer waterlogged.”

Daring glared at her, then pointedly looked away, flapped into the air, and hovered before the waterfall. Carefully, without blocking the flow of air over her wings, she reached out and grabbed hold of the wall on either side, then propped herself up onto her hindlegs. Spray from the waterfall spattered over Daring’s front and down her back, quickly soaking her mane and her wings. Daring looked aside and spat water from her mouth, grumbled, then took a deep breath and started climbing.

It was slow going: each step only moved her a couple centimeters, and even with Rose holding the lantern close Daring Do had trouble finding ledges sturdy enough to hold her weight. When her hoof slipped Rose was right there to catch her and give her a boost. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard Daring grumble out a reluctant Thanks. It was hard to tell with the constant roar of rushing water.

Daring pressed up the final couple inches and heaved herself through the opening above the water. It looked snug. Rose had the sudden image of Daring getting her butt stuck, her legs dangling helplessly. Her soggy tail was the last Rose saw of her for several long moments; then her face appeared in the lantern light. Her mane was a mess, stuck to her face and dark with water, and she did not look impressed.

“Pass the bags!” she yelled over the noise, reaching through with one foreleg. Rose grabbed Daring’s bag with her teeth and inched as close as she dared before swinging the bag at Daring’s waiting hoof. On the second try Daring caught it and heaved it out of sight.

Rose opened the second bag, shoved Daring’s hat inside, and rewrapped the sparkstone, hoping that it at least wouldn’t get too wet. She called up above the roar, “Be careful with this one!” Daring quickly pulled it through.

Next went the lantern. Despite the risk of burning oil splashing over her, she couldn’t bring herself to extinguish the lantern. Passing it up to Daring’s outstretched hoof was a stretch, and nerve-wracking, but by now Daring was an expert at blocking some of the water with one hoof and keeping the passage somewhat dry.

That left Rose and the torch, her last source of light down there. “How do we get the torch up?” she asked, totally sure she didn’t want to pass the torch on ahead anyways.

“Don’t worry about it!” Daring called down, teeth chattering. “There’s more up here.”

Rose grabbed the torch and carefully set it on a nearby rock so she could have at least some light guiding her way. Then it was her turn—

Almost. “Your hat!” Daring called down. Rose paused. She hadn’t even considered that her hat might not survive on her head—she rarely took it off—but she reluctantly passed it up to Daring.

“Got it! Now you!”

Applejack gulped and tried not to think about the narrowness of the opening or the lack of light—tried not to imagine what would happen if she slipped and smacked her head on the rock around her, or if she got stuck partway through and couldn’t get free. A pony’s legs dangling helplessly had seemed funny at the time; feeling the rock pinching around her waist and pulling her back down into the darkness did not. If she got stuck, would Rainbow Dash stay with her? Would she be able to find another way out? Would she freeze before somepony came to the rescue? What if she hit her head? Little wonder she didn’t feel like Rose at the moment.

“Uh, is there enough room?” she yelled.

“Of course. It’s not that far. I could basically reach you from here.”

Great. Now she’s taunting me. “Okay, AJ. Rose,” AJ muttered. “Whoever. One hoof above the other.”

Slowly she walked her hooves up the wall, putting weight on her rear hooves, and started pulling her way up. It wasn’t much harder than the trek through the rest of these caves. She tried to remember which rock Rainbow had slipped on, but couldn’t recall if it was on her left or her right. No matter; so long as she took it slowly she could handle a slip or two, and although she was having trouble finding a hoofhold she only needed her forehooves for balance. No problem.

She pushed up. The water had been splashing and misting over her; now it started pouring down her back. It was shockingly cold, bucking the air from her lungs and causing her to slip and nearly smack herself on the head. She swung out to her side like a barn door, and scrambled to regain her stability, but even as she stood straight the water fell over her head, instantly soaking through to her scalp, then down her forehead and face. C’mon, Applejack! If the bird can do this, so can you!

Another step. She had to duck her head to breathe, and looked at the pool below her hooves. She hadn’t even climbed that far. She took a deep breath and pushed upwards, almost immediately shoved aside by the surprisingly strong force of water. She fought to keep her balance and reached for the next hoofhold, then ducked her head low and took another gasping breath. The waterfall was hitting her almost square in the face; she couldn’t even open her eyes. It was so cold!

Applejack took another deep breath that was mostly water and reached to find another hoofhold, but everything she found was slippery and smooth. Her heart raced and she couldn’t breathe and it was so, so cold. How had Rainbow Dash made it up so easily? She couldn’t ask for help or even cry out without opening her mouth and letting the waterfall in.

Forget getting stuck, forget falling on her back—she was gonna drown!

Rainbow!

She saw motion in front of her, then a pair of hooves pushed her head to the side, wrapped under her shoulders, and heaved. Her face broke the surface. She coughed out a mouthful of water and inhaled a desperate, Princess-blessed breath of water-free air.

“Hold on!”

Her hindlegs dangled helplessly, and all her weight—and the crushing weight of the water pushing up against her—fought the grip the pony had around her. She grasped for the forelegs trying to pull her out.

“Ah’m slipping!” she gasped. “Help!”

The forelegs holding her fought to haul her up, but the rushing water pushed her back, and she was wet and slippery. She started sliding free, even as the hooves wrapped around her scrambled to get a better grip, grabbing at her neck, her mane, her hooves—Applejack fell backwards, and the water rose up over her mouth again, then over her nostrils, finally blocking her vision. No. No!

Her back hoof struck rock. Applejack found holds beneath her and pushed, rocketing out of the water and onto the rock beside the stream. She coughed and spat water from her lungs.

The hooves rolled her onto her side. “Easy! Easy. Just breathe.”

Applejack nodded absently and tried to calm her working lungs, without much success. For several moments she coughed and hacked, but the hardest part was her hammering heart and the adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream.

When she opened her eyes she could only make out a blurry, dark shape hovering over her, blocking the starry night above. She wiped water from her eyes and squinted. Too big to be Dash.

A stallion?

“Y’alright, kiddo?”

It was a stallion, with a flaming red mane that ignited when he moved the lantern closer—a tall, hulking stallion with an at-ease posture.

She nodded, unable to speak between breaths.

“Here.” His voice was deep and calm. “It’s a little wet but Ah kept it safe, just for you, silly filly.”

He slid something over her face and set it on her forehead. My hat. She reached up and felt its reassuring weight and familiar texture, felt herself start to think straight—felt the weight of what was happening.

“Ah don’t know how much more of this Ah can take,” Applejack muttered, looking away.

The pony was silent for a moment, then Hmmed.

“It’s okay. Don’t forget, kiddo—”

“Nopony messes with Apples,” Applejack said slowly, nodding. She understood.

Her foreleg brushed against his, and he stood up and backed up out of the light.

“Wait!” she cried. “Don’t leave!” She tried to push herself up, but all she managed was to slip on the wet rock and bang her head. Dazed, she wiped her eyes, sure that she’d already done so. The dark blur focused into a dark blue silhouette.

“Yuck. You spat all over my face,” Rainbow Dash complained, wiping her eyes with a foreleg.

“S—sorry,” Applejack apologized, her jaw chattering. Every single bit of her was wet, from her face to her tail.

“Heh. You were supposed to go over the falls, not through them.” She peered closer. “You alright, Rose?”

Rose?

She rolled onto her gut, wiped the wet mane from her face, and glared at Dash. “Well.” Where to begin? “Ah just inhaled a waterfall. Ah’m pretty sure Ah hit mah head a bunch. And a Unicorn is trying to kill me. So, yeah. Ah’m fuckin’ peachy, Rainbow Dash.”

“But you’re okay?” Dash asked. There was concern on Dash’s face, even if she insisted on pretending it was still some game to her.

Applejack exhaled, which turned into coughing and spitting out another mouthful of water. “Yeah, Ah’m good. Just a little rougher than Ah thought it’d be. How are the saddlebags?”

Dash looked over her shoulder and reached for one of them. “I dunno. I haven’t had time to check them; I just flung them onto the ground and reached down to help. Probably soaked.”

Applejack forced herself to stand, even though she was shaking quite badly. Adrenaline spilled free like the water from a two-legged bathtub. She gulped. Say something. “You said there were torches?”

Dash must’ve answered, but Applejack didn’t hear her. She looked up. Daring was staring at her from far away, and mouthed, “What’s wrong?”

Applejack tried to reassure her but just couldn’t get the words out. Her legs buckled, she stumbled to the right, and the ground twirled sideways. Once again she felt a pair of hooves wrap around her, this time setting her down gently on the ground. Applejack grabbed at her and refused to let go when Dash went to pull away.

“Thanks, Dash,” she whispered between shuddering breaths, certain that if she lost her composure she wouldn’t find it again.

Rainbow’s voice floated over. “It’s okay. I got you.” The last thing Applejack felt before she decided to take a very short nap was Rainbow pressing Applejack’s hat to her sopping wet forehead.

While Applejack rested, Rainbow Dash pulled the lantern close and looked through their saddlebags. As she’d feared, almost everything inside was wet, and sloshing her hoof through the bottom of one to find the sparkstone was almost enough to make her give up entirely. Trying to air dry the stone on her own reminded her just how useless her wings were when soaked.

With the sparkstone on a flat surface to dry, she inspected their surroundings. Their tunnel had broken onto a large, mostly flat ledge at the bottom of an otherwise steeply-slanted seam in the rock. Above the crack opened wider; in all directions the rock surface retreated into shadow without closing together, and looking outwards she could only just see the other edge off in the distance. Water was pouring down from several ledges, landing in large pools and flowing down a couple large streams, one of which they’d just climbed up, while some others continued down the seam. Every surface was wet, judging by the reflected lantern glow, and the sound of falling water quickly turned into background noise. A cool breeze pushed through every so often, causing her to shiver.

A pile of wooden planks and rails crowded along one section of the ledge, some pieces with rusted nails or torn lengths of rope attached, as if some large wooden construction had fallen from far above and caught and shattered on the rock. The rocky surface was scattered with pulpy wood soaked from the constant flow of water all the way down the slope.

Dash looked up. Above, the wall receded into darkness. If there was still some sort of construction up there, she couldn’t see it. Only a narrow ladder leading out of sight was still intact; at some point in the past there might’ve been more set up, judging by the pieces of wood and rope lying around.

She shoved some of the debris over the edge and cleared a small section in front of Applejack, still out cold and trembling. They needed a fire, so Dash turned to look for any dry scraps she could find. They were surrounded by wood, but it was all waterlogged and worthless. She left the lantern with Rose, grabbed their saddlebag, and wandered further down the ledge until she could barely see where she was going, and started poking around for drier debris. She quickly filled one of the sacks, stopping only when she felt a particularly smooth, boney stick crack under her hoof.

“Nope,” she muttered, and hurried back.

With a small bundle of mostly dry sticks, she sat and reached for the sparkstone. It was still damp and shiny, and she had nothing to dry it with, so she was surprised when it still sparked some. She wasn’t too surprised, though, when strike after strike failed to make anymore than a little smoke. Not being able to fly was bad enough, but she’d forgotten about all the other things her wings were good for, like freeing her hooves or fanning fires.

“Ya gotta let it breathe.”

Dash nearly jumped out of her coat; she hadn’t even heard Applejack wake up. AJ continued, “Don’t just jam it all into a pile. Here.” She stood over the clump of wood and started pulling pieces from it.

Her jaw was chattering, she was shivering all over, and her legs were still a bit shaky, but Applejack managed to build a small pyramid, and slid some small pieces through the middle. “Try that.”

The sparkstone sent a shower of sparks into the construction; after only a few strikes the tinder caught.

Dash hmphed. “If my wings weren’t soaked, I could’ve had that going, no problem.”

Applejack smirked. “Just shows y’ain’t never built a proper fire before,” she sassed, and kept Dash from replacing any wood until the tinder was burning brightly.

Heat bloomed over Dash. She sat on her haunches and lifted her hooves in front of the small fire, sighing. Applejack made room for her wings. After what must’ve been hours down in the temple, she felt relaxed. It smelled of bonfires after heavy rains. She could even pretend she was looking up at a night sky, if the sparkling rocks were stars. Too bad they didn’t have any of the Apple Family’s private reserve.

“How did we get ourselves into this mess?” she wondered.

Applejack was looking through her saddlebag. “Ah was just wonderin’ that same thing.” She smirked. “Wasn’t it yer suggestion that we should have an adventure?”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think we’d wind up at the bottom of a cave.” She watched AJ rummage. “What are you looking for?”

“Food. Ah’m starved.”

“Eh heh heh . . . you’re not gonna like what you find.”

Applejack pulled out a pair of bruised, lightly-crushed apples, stared at them for a moment, then shrugged. “Ah’ve eaten worse.” She tossed one to Dash and bit into the other.

Dash wrinkled her nose but the smell of apple juice reminded her how hungry she was. It certainly didn’t taste any different—just a little mushy.

She gave her wings a shake, loosening a surprising amount of water.

“How long does it take yer wings to dry out?” Applejack asked around her mouthful.

Rainbow shrugged. “If it were warmer or drier . . . twenty minutes? Dunno about in here, though. Normally I’d just roost for the night—”

“What? Roost? Ha!” Applejack laughed, spraying chewed apple chunks everywhere. “Like a chicken?”

Dash raised an eyebrow and shook loose some water in AJ’s direction. “Yeah. Just like most birds. Pegasi roost.”

Applejack chuckled. “Crazy.”

“I suppose that’s crazier than grazing, right?”

Applejack narrowed her eyes. “Sure. Earth Ponies graze.”

“Like cattle.”

“Just like cattle,” Applejack confirmed. “It’s perfectly normal—”

“Eating off the ground—”

“Shaddup. How long?”

Rainbow Dash turned slightly, letting the warmth soak into her wings. “An hour or so. Maybe two.” She slumped. Sitting still for two hours was difficult at the best of times. Sitting still and trying to keep her teeth from chattering? While really, really hungry? She took a bite of the apple, grimacing. “This sucks.”

“How does Daring Do pass the time? Ah’d assume she spends lots of time travelling between places.”

“Oh, sure. Her trip to the Badlands to rescue the Princess’ daughter took days and days by train. And whenever she crosses an ocean, nearly a month.” She grinned. “Unless she’s interrupted by pirates.”

She frowned. “But . . . I’m not really sure how she spends that time; the books usually skip past it. Reading? Talking to the crew? Sordid romances with attractive strangers?” She laughed. “Not really helpful here.”

They sat and chewed. Dash gulped down a particularly large mouthful and said, “But for Daring Do, even when she’s waiting, she’s going somewhere.” She let her eyes travel up the scaffolding. “I don’t know how long we can spend just waiting down here.”

Applejack shoved the rest of the apple in her mouth and swallowed, grimacing.

“Gross?” Dash asked.

Applejack shook her head, thumped her chest, and let out a very proud belch. The look of satisfaction and pride on her face in the firelight was too much and Dash started laughing, forgetting for a moment that they were stuck in a cave deep underground without much to eat.

Applejack looked over at the ladder and followed it upwards. After a moment she stopped and pointed. “What’s that?”

Dash peered into the darkness above them. “I don’t see anything.”

“Something’s attached up there . . . It goes out over the opening. It might be a bridge!”

Dash slid around to the other side of the fire, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness without a blinding flame in the way. She followed where Applejack’s foreleg was pointed and squinted. A dark smudge on a darker patch of rock . . . maybe? It reached off into the darkness ahead of them; whatever it was, it was the only thing she could see that reached the other side.

And there was something moving over it, a bouncing purple glow. Dash gasped and leapt to her hooves, nearly knocking over their saddlebags as she lifted her wings to block the firelight.

“Hay! What are ya—”

“Shut up!” she hissed, waving Applejack silent. Dash knew she couldn’t block the reflected lantern light from the rocks around them, but she hoped Cairo wouldn’t know exactly where they were.

The purple glow stood still, long enough for Dash to start really worrying that a well-aimed spell was about to strike her in the face, or that boulders were about to slide down from above and crush them, but after another moment it started moving again, continuing across to the far side before blinking out.

Dash sighed and relaxed.

Applejack whispered, “What is it?”

“Cairo! I saw him crossing the bridge.”

Applejack looked behind them, at the ladders and platforms climbing up to the bridge. Her eyes went wide. “So we can still catch him! C’mon!” she said, standing and shaking some of the stiffness from her joints. She looked a lot less likely to collapse than she had earlier—and a lot angrier.

“Uh, shouldn’t you be resting, still? You were just passed out.”

Applejack turned slowly and glared at Dash. “He tried to bury me alive,” she said calmly. “Ain’t no way Ah’m letting him go.”

“Alright, alright. Lead the way, Applejack—”

“Rose,” Applejack corrected, cinching her saddlebags tight. “You want Rose? You got her. Cairo tried to kill Rose. Rose is gonna get him back for that. Got it?”

Dash leaned back and held her hooves up. “Totally.”

Rose Gambit attacked the ladder with a ferocity that surprised Daring Do. Normally easy-going and in control, Rose didn’t often let her rivals get under her mane. Usually, those rivals would simply find themselves in unfortunate situations—trapped at the bottom of a pit, tied up and hanging from a tree, or bound and gagged and waiting for somepony to find them. Sometimes she’d even help luck along, typically through inaction or petty violence that served her more than the bad guys.

Tomb raiding was as much an adventure as it was a career, and she was largely successful. Her victories outweighed her failures enough that she didn’t really pay either any mind. Whenever Daring would beat Rose at her own game, there was always that smirk that said, “Next time, then,” with a hint of provocation. Even when Rose won, she wasn’t insufferable or insulting, not really.

And this certainly wasn’t the first time somepony had tried to kill her. She had her enemies, an impressive list of notorious, well-known ponies across the world that would very much like her returned home in a wooden box. But very few ponies actually managed to get themselves on her bad side, and while Cairo was a scumbag criminal that likely deserved whatever he got, Rose had only known Cairo for a few hours.

So, her enthusiasm at climbing the ladder and catching up to the Unicorn was a little unexpected. By the time Daring had her bags around her barrel Rose was already a couple meters up, carrying her lantern in her jaw, and Daring had to hurry to keep up. This is a terrible idea. She really, really needed to sit and dry her wings before any sort of climb; if she or Rose fell they’d both miss her wings in a hurry.

Rose reached the top of the first ladder and scrambled onto a wooden platform that was barely wide enough for a pony to stand sideways. It was attached to the rock seam with rope tied to some stakes pounded into the rock, and the whole thing shook as she thundered across to the other side and the next ladder.

“Rose! Slow down!”

If Rose had heard her, she didn’t acknowledge it; she was climbing the next ladder by the time Daring had pulled herself up the first. The ladder itself wasn’t attached to the lower platform and shook under her motion. Daring heard a crack followed by vicious swearing and watched Rose’s right hindleg dangle off the side of the ladder. Rose eventually caught the ladder and continued hauling herself up.

Daring followed, very aware of how slippery the rungs were from the water splashing down from higher up the rock seam and the constant mist in the air; even so, she still nearly slipped on the same rung that had fouled Rose’s climb.

Daring finally caught up to Rose on the next platform, but only because Rose was struggling to hold onto her lantern while climbing the next steps. The platform shook as Daring slowly walked up behind Rose.

“Rose, stop. You’re gonna fall.”

“No, Ah ain’t. Ah do this kinda stuff all the time.” She tried to hold the lantern with one hoof and lift herself up with the other three, but she tipped dangerously close to the edge. Daring reached out and grabbed her, pulling her back to the rock face.

“Ah got it,” she said, clearly irritated. “Lemme go.”

Daring released her but kept her foreleg outstretched incase Rose decided to take another plunge sideways. Rose finally managed to get a solid bite around the lantern handle without burning herself, and pulled herself up. It wasn’t a ladder so much as a wooden wall with several horizontal beams missing, spaced just close enough to climb if a pony were careful, which Rose definitely was not.

Daring looked up the wall and traced the path they’d need to take to continue towards the bridge. From her guesses they were a quarter of the way up the seam, a good ten or so meters above their little campfire, which was still putting out helpful light. The wall itself continued another couple meters, stopped abruptly, then . . . what?

No platform. Only a narrow ledge with a chain to hold onto . . . “Aw, blow me. Rose! Stop!”

Rose ignored her and started climbing the wall. If she slipped from that height Daring wouldn’t be able to catch her, and Daring knew they couldn’t rely on Rose’s luck forever.

“I really don’t wanna do this. . . ” she muttered, but reared up, bit down on Rose’s tail, and pulled.

Rose yelped and slipped immediately—no surprise given her haste—and fell to the platform, landing on her backside and nearly tipping over. Daring grabbed her and balanced her, shoving her back towards the wall.

“What they hay?!” Rose cried.

Daring braced herself and—Smack! Rose tried to kick Daring’s hooves out from under her, but only succeeded in knocking their shins together. “You nearly pulled me off!” She kicked Daring again.

“Ow! Stop kicking me!”

“You tried to pull me off!” Rose yelled. Her eyes were wide and she was panting. “What are ya tryin’ to do? You wanna be the hero, swoop down and save me from falling? Is that it?”

“Rose, you—Rose. Rose!” Daring took a deep breath. Rose kicked her again, and kept yelling. Daring couldn’t get more than a word in edgewise, and eventually one of them was gonna fall over the edge, so resigned herself to doing what she knew she had to do.

“You glory-stealin’, attention-hoggin’, showboatin’ Pega—”

Daring slapped her. The impact echoed loudly over the sounds of cascading water. Rose froze mid-word, stunned. Daring released Rose and she slid to the floor, but Daring didn’t let go of Rose’s shoulder.

“Rose,” she said, quietly and slowly. “Calm down. You’re gonna fall if you don’t slow the fuck down.” She waited for Rose to yell some more, but Rose was still and silent. “Got it?”

Rose nodded once, eyes wide and staring out into the distance.

“Okay.” Daring let go of Rose and sat beside her. “What’s going on?”

Rose was quiet for a few moments, looking out at the darkness. She rubbed her cheek. “Ah don’t like bein’ underground,” she said finally.

“No kidding,” Daring said. “Me neither.”

“Ah’m afraid of the dark,” Rose blurted out. Daring looked at her, but Rose faced forward and kept going, “Pa wanted us to be strong, but Ah’ve been trapped in this cave for hours now, and it’s so far down.” She leaned forward a little, looking over the edge, and gulped. “And so high up.”

Daring grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back to the rock wall, turning her so they were facing each other. Rose was silent for a few moments, then looked up at Daring.

“Ah can handle statues comin’ to life and tryin’ to crush me. Ah can handle death traps. Hay, Ah can even handle monster jungle cats tryin’ to eat me.” She closed her eyes. “But down here it’s just tunnel after tunnel, dark and narrow and always this close to trapping me.”

Rose was breathing deeply, but regularly. Daring said, slowly, “And then Cairo comes along, and you find a way to prove yourself—”

Rose nodded. “And we’re goin’ up. Finally, Daring Do, we’re goin’ up again. We’re climbin’ and we’re gonna break out onto the surface and it’s gonna be bright and warm again.”

Daring chuckled. “I hate to break it to you, but the sun’s probably set by now.”

Rose sighed. “Of course it has.”

“And you know, we’re not just gonna find an exit. There’s gonna be more danger, and more tunnels, and the chamber with the treasure’s gonna be trapped for sure. Then we might find a way out that doesn’t involve tracing our steps back. Okay?”

Rose levelled a stare at her. “Ah ain’t some foal you need to coddle. Ah know it’s not over yet.” She took a deep breath. “Just let me have mah little panic and then we’ll be good to go. Ah’m pretty sure Ah have one these each time Ah’m deep underground.”

Daring laughed. “Sure.”

“And, Daring, Ah swear to Ma if you hit me again Ah’ll pour water all through yer wings an’ knock you off this here platform.” She glared. “Ah will literally pull you back down here, empty mah canteen and waste all mah water, then kick you off. Got it?”

Daring gulped. “Got it.”

Rose sat for a moment, grumbling something about apples and rubbing her cheek, then reached out a hoof. Daring helped Rose to her hooves, and together they tied the lantern to her bags, careful to keep the hot metal touching fabric and not her bare back.

“Try picturing the floor following you up the ladder, just under your hooves,” Daring said as they approached the wall. “I’ll go first so you can have something to focus on.”

“Ah’m goin’ first,” Rose insisted.

“I’m not gonna be able to catch you any more than you could catch me.”

“Maybe, but Ah don’t wanna be focusin’ on yer plot the whole way.”

Daring coughed. “So you want me looking up yours?”

“Yeah, like you mind, Derrière-Do,” she snorted.

Daring reached out to smack her but Rose was already scrambling up the wall.

The lantern was pleasantly warm against her back, especially given the cold mist of the cavern, but it sure as hay didn’t light anything ahead of her. If anything, Rose was pretty sure it was painting a big, bright target on her. They’d managed to climb a little more of the ladder setup leading up the wall, and from the black splotch high above she reckoned they were about halfway.

She paused, pulled herself in tight, and shook her head. “Nope. Ain’t more than a couple steps off the ground.” She avoided looking over her shoulder as much as possible, and focused on the steps and rock wall, but she felt exposed all the same. All Cairo had to do was stand on the bridge and look down, and she’d be spotted.

The fact that only water had come shooting their way reinforced how large and empty this cave system was. Cairo was likely very far ahead by now, and it was that certainty that kept her putting hoof over hoof, even when she started hearing a groan echo through the cavern.

“You hear that?” she asked Daring.

Daring listened for a second. “Yeah. Like a creaking ship, kinda, or a creepy old train.”

“This whole place gives me the creeps,” Rose admitted. After a moment she realized Daring was waiting for her to continue so she reached for another rung and heaved herself up. Ponies weren’t made for ladders, not really, and this was tiring, especially with waterlogged saddlebags weighing her down.

The structure yawned and shuddered. Rose stopped and held tight, waiting for the shaking to pass.

“You know,” Daring called up once the worst was over, a nervous hesitation in her voice. “I don’t think anypony has used these ladders since those traps were built. They might not have been built to stay up this long.”

“Wonderful,” Rose said, putting as much sarcasm into the word as she could. Only a hoofful of the railings and platforms were attached to the rock directly; the rest hung from their neighbors, attached with ropes and wooden planks. Whole sections were suspended from the rock wall with only a few parts holding them all in place. At no point had any ledges or shelves shot out from the wall—without the platforms and scaffolding, it was all fall and no landing for some distance.

She reached for a hold, grunted, and scrambled over an edge onto the next platform. She moved just far enough for Daring to climb aboard then collapsed onto her gut, panting. Daring eventually flopped down beside her.

“Phew,” she sighed, then, when the shaking increased, “Whoa.”

The groaning grew louder, the shaking grew more violent, and then Rose’s fears came true with a loud SNAP from high above. The whole structure buckled once, and if she’d been standing Rose would’ve been tossed over the edge. She closed her eyes, pressed up against the rock, and covered her head. Something large whistled past them and crunched against something just below.

“Oh, feathers,” Daring muttered. Rose opened her eyes. She and Daring were still firmly attached to the wall, at the same height, and the whole construction had stopped shaking. Rose wondered what had fallen. She stood and looked around. It was much darker, now, even with the lantern behind her, and she could barely see the bridge, high above.

They peered over the edge. Whatever had fallen had clearly trashed the fire and swept debris off the edge; if she listened closely Rose could still hear the scattering of wood falling down the slope. She could already feel the creaking building in the structure, a little slower and restrained than before. Hopefully they could make it all the way to the top before the next section decided to let go.

Daring chuckled nervously. “Uh, after you,” she said, pointing ahead. Here the path broke away from the surface, as a narrow walkway hung suspended out into the blackness. With only the lantern light Rose could barely make out a stalactite at the other end of the wooden bridge, and even then couldn’t see where it attached to the ceiling, nor where the path went after it. There might once have been railings—maybe ropes or chains—but now there was nothing.

“It’s a stalactite,” Daring said helpfully.

“Ah spend more time in caves than you do, Daring. Ah think Ah know what a stalactite is.”

“Yeah? Then what’s it called when the rock reaches up from the bottom?”

“A stalagmite.” Rose grinned.

Daring stared at her. “Lucky guess.”

Rose rolled her eyes and looked back to the bridge. “Thank the Princesses Ah’m so fond of heights and the dark,” Rose muttered. The moment her hoof touched the walkway the whole construction shuddered.

C’mon, Sug’, ya got this. She prodded the bridge—little more than a few planks of wood, really—but it felt sturdy and held her weight as she moved her center of mass forward. She concentrated and, looking only straight ahead, walked out onto the platform. It was surprisingly long, despite how close the stalactite looked, or maybe it was because Rose was taking her time to cross it, pausing every time the thing shuddered and only moving a hoof once the previous was good and settled.

“How sturdy is it?” Daring asked. She was back at the start of the walkway, clearly waiting to see if Rose was going to fall to her death. Thanks, Daring. Rose ignored her—turning her head might well tip her over the edge—and focused on putting one hoof in front of the other. It looked so frail: a bunch of thin wooden slats lashed to the runners underneath. Maybe Daring was right to wait.

The bridge reached the stalactite and connected to a platform that circled it. She carefully peered around the rock. In the dim lantern light she could see a ladder that climbed so steep it was nearly tilting backwards over the void. Rose gulped. At least it didn’t go very high: a platform wrapped around the ladder and the stalactite a few meters up and reached out again, at a different angle.

Leaning into the stalactite, she slowly edged her way around it towards the ladder and reached a hoof for the first rung, leaning way too far back for her liking. Her hat shifted slightly, and she nearly fell reaching to secure it. After a few tries she grabbed the railing with her other forehoof and tried to relax her heartbeat.

“You got it?” Daring asked. Rose couldn’t quite look around the rock to see Daring but could hear her carefully edging her way across the planks.

“Ah dunno,” Rose finally answered. It was gonna get mighty crowded back here if she didn’t move. She pulled on the top rung and lifted her hooves off the platform, kicking to find the next step. Once her hooves found their place she could push higher and reach for the next rung.

“Ha!” She allowed herself a little moment of pride. “Ah’m a regular climbing pony.”

“You’ve gone up one step.”

“Hush, you. A little help?” Rose asked, stretching to reach the next rung.

Daring slunk around the stalactite and crawled under Rose’s back hooves, standing and giving Rose a boost. After that, Rose was on her own. Thankfully the landing above was only a few rungs away—and, though she wouldn’t admit it, thankfully the floor was following her, only a rung or so behind her.

“Hurry up!” Daring insisted. Rose wondered if the heights were finally getting to her, as she grew accustomed to being unable to fly.

“You wanna go first instead?” Rose panted, heaving herself up. She knew she wasn’t a fat pony, but damn was it hard.

Another rung, and she could finally reach the next platform. It was awkward to bend her legs to support her weight and pull herself up, and when she finally settled onto the platform she was shaking from the effort.

“Move, Rose!” Daring called up, her voice higher and louder than normal.

“Weren’t you just hollerin’ at me for goin’ too fast?” she yelled back, looking down the ladder hatch. Daring was definitely going faster than she had been, but she was cursing and looked frightened. “Daring! What’s goin’ on?” she asked.

“Can’t you feel that?” Daring asked.

Rose held her breath and pressed low to the platform. It wasn’t just her sore muscles that were shaking; the whole construction was dancing wild again.

“Something’s gonna break! We don’t have much time!” Daring yelled.

Rose leapt to her hooves and peered around the stalactite. At this level the platform didn’t quite make a full turn around the rock, instead turning and shooting towards the rock wall at an angle. No railing here, either, and this bridge was at least as long again as the first.

“Go. Fucking go!” Daring urged from close behind.

Rose reached for the lantern and held it in her jaw, needing every bit of light she could get, then lowered her head, eyed the planks of wood, and ran. The bridge shook and thundered beneath her hooves and she didn’t dare imagine the bridge snapping in half beneath her hooves, sending her tumbling into the darkness and stranding the helpless Pegasus . . . She gulped and tried to focus on her balance.

The rock wall swam out of the darkness at an angle and Rose threw herself at the landing, impacting sideways and using her momentum to carry herself ahead. Stairs, now, almost boring compared to lean-back ladders. Behind her, Daring slammed into the rock and swore, then they were both climbing stairs that doubled back and forth.

The rumbling ceased.

“Look out!” Daring hollered. “Jump!”

Rose threw herself forward. Just as her hind hooves left the stair it buckled and twisted. A large section of wooden supports and rope rigging tore clean through the stairs, pulling them out from under her. Suddenly Rose was leaping over empty space. She could actually see the rigging and supports collapsing below.

She landed clumsily on the next platform, losing her step and nearly falling off the side. As she scrambled to her hooves a blur rushed over her. Daring landed ahead of her, having glided more gracefully. Once Rose had found her balance she scrambled to catch up.

Rose looked ahead, slowing as they reached a ramp. As the light from the lantern hanging bounced and shifted across the cavern it passed over their end of the bridge above. They were close: hiding among some ropes was a wooden tower that reached nearly all the way up to the bridge. Rose nearly whooped for joy, remembering only at the last moment that she was carrying the lantern in her jaw.

Daring saw it too. “Almost there!” she yelled, a note of excitement in her voice. She really was crazy. A quick glance to ensure Daring hadn’t fallen too far behind, but Daring was right with her, and when they made eye contact they shared a grin. Racing against Daring was a dumb idea, especially in the darkness of the seam with rickety and collapsing structure all around them, but her enthusiasm was infectious.

They made another turn and headed straight for the base of the bridge. Ahead the scaffolding shot straight up, even breaking away from the rock wall for the last bit. Daring swung around to the other side and began climbing, panting loud enough that Rose could hear her. The tower looked far too skinny to hold them, and her lungs and her muscles and her joints burned, but there was no other way out, and she was pretty sure the walkway behind them was quickly disintegrating. Rose swore, leapt and caught a beam in her forehooves, swore again, and began climbing. The rungs were close enough together that she ascended quickly without having to stop at each step to find her next hoofhold.

After several meters the tower pulled away from the rock wall, and after Rose and Daring passed the last attachment it started swaying alarmingly.

“Daring!” Rose hollered. “We gotta balance it together or it’s gonna fall over!”

Daring paused, holding herself close to the tower. She looked down at Rose, then at the top, watching it dance left and right. “Climb a little to the left,” she finally called down, and slid herself to the right. Daring waited for her to catch up, then together they reached for the next rung, balancing their motions and passing the lantern back and forth.

“Where do I put my hoof?”

“To yer left. Can ya hold this?”

“Hold up, it goes a little sideways here.”

“Gotcha. Ready? Up!”

Slowly the tower steadied, as the scaffolding below faded into the darkness. Quick glances showed the bridge growing closer with each move. Even as the swaying became noticeable and the noise of crashing wood grew louder Rose allowed herself a moment of hope, in amongst the surging pride of teamwork.

Wait—

“Daring! It’s not tall enough!” she cried. The tower was swaying because it wasn’t attached to anything. Her hope sank into the pit of her stomach.

They reached the top of the tower. By now it had narrowed enough that the platform was barely wide enough for one pony to stand on without hanging out over the edge, but not enough for two. Daring and Rose pulled themselves up to the edge and held on, legs not quite dangling. Rose willed the tower to stop swaying so much. A pair of ropes hung down from the bridge, hanging still as the tower rocked back and forth, and in the center of their little spire sat a pair of large crates, balanced precariously.

We came all this way for a dead end?

Daring reached for the ropes as she and Rose rocked past, grabbing them on the third try. “Think you can climb it?”

Rose could barely get enough air into her lungs, and her limbs were shaking with exhaustion. She shook her head and panted, “What do we do?”

Daring tugged on one of the ropes, shoved the crate a little, then smiled. “I got an idea. Here, hang on.”

“What?” Rose asked, grabbing the rope with a hoof and letting Daring attach the lantern to her saddlebags. “Hey! Whoa! What’cha doin’?”

Daring quickly took the other rope and knotted it through a hook on the crate. She grabbed Rose’s rope, pressed up against her, and smiled a manic grin. “I’ve always wanted to do this!” she exclaimed, before shoving the crate down the side.

“Oh no no no!” Rose cried. The rope pulled tight and yanked her upwards. “Daring!”

Daring and Rose slammed together. She scrambled to get a sturdy grip on the rope. The crate crashed down into the center of the tower and picked up speed, and so did Rose and Daring. The scaffolding collapsed just as Rose lost sight of it.

Rose clenched her eyes shut and hollered. Daring let out a whoop, even as she squeezed Rose tight. The slight breeze in the cavern turned into a rushing gale, and Rose felt her saddlebags sliding down her sides.

“Watch out!” Daring cried. Rose risked a glance upwards. The pulley their rope was shooting through was racing down towards them, along with the bridge above. “This is gonna hurt!”

It happened in an instant, but it felt like it took forever. The assembly holding the pulley shattered as they passed it, whipping them inwards in a shower of shredded rope and splinters. The rope was wrenched out of her hooves and Rose was flying upwards, flailing and scrambling to hold onto anything solid, which pretty much meant Daring. Daring was yelling, either in fear or excitement, or maybe both, but Rose couldn’t really hear her. The bridge dropped past and they soared over it, slowing and slowing until Rose felt weightless.

Then time resumed and Rose crashed onto the hard surface of the bridge.

Head ringing and muscles screaming, Rose coughed and rolled onto her side, ignoring the uncomfortable bulk of her saddlebags. In front of her, Daring was groaning and cursing, but Rose could see a smile on her face. She struggled to find her breath, then croaked, “Ah guess Pegasi get used to crash landings, huh?”

Daring nodded, wincing. “Sometimes I’m not totally awake when I roll out of bed. Those are rough mornings.”

Rose pictured the air beneath Cloudsdale on a Monday morning, and chuckled. Her chest hurt but the rush of the climb and the energy in her blood hadn’t yet faded and she found herself laughing along with Daring.

After a few minutes of resting, Rose slowly pushed herself to a sitting position, wincing and gritting her teeth against the ache. Daring hauled herself up beside her.

The bridge connected both sides of the seam, and at either end a tunnel bored into the rock. They’d landed nearer to one side than the other, and the tunnel behind them lead back towards the trap chambers. Far down its length she could see the faint orange of a torchlit room.

The tunnel on the other side passed under a massive stone archway, carved nearly perfectly smooth as far as Rose could tell with their limited light, and continued off into the darkness ahead.

“That’s where Cairo went,” Daring said. “The Tome’s gotta be there.”

Rose pushed her hat tight to her forehead and the two set off.

Twilight released her tenuous hold on the scaffolding and let it collapse into the abyss. As the load on her horn lessened she deflated and slid to the ground, leaning back against the wall. Without weight on it her left hindleg no longer ached. Far below, the sounds of crashing wood and spilling water echoed around the seam until it faded to background noise. She rubbed a hoof over her forehead, wiping her brow free of sweat, and tried to calm her breath. She was grinning, maybe a little madly.

She caught the book watching her, and quickly hid her smile.

“What?”

The book stared at her, teasing her.

“Look, there’s something satisfying about just letting something go and seeing what happens. Not that I had any trouble keeping them completely safe, of course,” she hurried to add, “but every now and then I feel a pang of jealousy towards Discord, although I suspect he plans more than he lets on.”

No response.

“Ha ha . . . I don’t usually tell ponies that. Most ponies see me and my lists and either assume that controlling things around me comes naturally, which isn’t true, or that I enjoy keeping things in order, which is only partly true.”

She sat in silence, mulling her thoughts, before continuing, “I’d rather not have to plan out every little detail of my life. Other ponies don’t seem to care; they don’t see every consequence and possibility of their actions and balk at the fog. Maybe I haven’t been living in Ponyville long enough to relax and just enjoy my days. I don’t know how they do it.”

She reached under her pile of checklists, found a small rock, and tossed it over the edge. It cracked and rolled down the slope.

“And now I’ve let go, and I have to wait and see what happens.”

Something growled behind her, but she tried to ignore it.

“I’ve gotten better, maybe, but only when it comes to my daily routine and things I do often enough to do without thinking. That’s not letting go and relaxing, it’s just habit. I can try new things and see what happens, but it’s always secretly an experiment, always with a way out, all the possibilities covered.” She waved a hoof at the remains of the scaffolding. “Always fixing things . . . letting that break was fun. Satisfying. Its collapse had no impact on anything else, posed no danger, and in fact has eased the load in my horn. Tipping things over and seeing what happens is much more . . . fun. I’m jealous of Discord because he doesn’t have to hide that facet of his personality.”

She stood and shook the stiffness from her joints. “Stupid, really. I just want it to be easy. If I can let go of something and not have to worry about what’ll happen . . . it’s so much easier. I think I’d like that. Maybe. But then I wouldn’t be a Princess.”

She knew she was rambling, but she needed the distraction only a conversation could provide. She was cold and tired and hungry, breathing deep and fighting a monster headache, but describing—informing—lecturing helped her forget all that.

“Those things, though?” She shuddered and looked back down her secret tunnel, in roughly the same direction Rose and Daring were now heading. “I don’t have a choice with them. I can’t control them. There’s too many for me to manipulate without them being jerky and stupid, but that means so much more risk and I can’t let down my guard even once or they’ll attack Rainbow Dash and Applejack and they aren’t ready yet.” She reached for one of her checklists with a hoof she swore wasn’t shaking and scanned down the parchment. “I don’t know if they can fight them on their own or if they’ll attack us instead. So many personalities invariably exhibit surprising and dangerous emergent behaviors. But without them none of this works, none of the threads tie together at the end, and the final boss makes no sense. All of this would be for nothing. They fit a hole in the puzzle.”

Even with the light from her horn she could barely see them, her prototype monsters that kept to the shadows. Twilight said, absently, “A normal pony wouldn’t mind a missing jigsaw piece, but I do.”

Apparently she minded enough to torment herself. A low hum and the wail of static passed over her.

“However.” She took a deep breath and slowly released it. “If I cannot control them—or myself—then I need to know before I commit to the climax. And there’s only a hoofful. It’s going to be okay,” she said, pausing to take another steadying breath. “I don’t have to fight them. I don’t even have to see them. I just have to keep them away from Applejack and Rainbow Dash for long enough. There aren’t even that many. They won’t overpower me. I can do this.” She even sounded convincing, though she knew the book wasn’t buying any of it.

She could hollow out a mountain, manipulate evil Unicorns, and generate the history of a whole civilisation, all in a single day. She was the Element of Magic, the Princess of Magic, and the strongest magician of her age, according to an Alicorn that moved the Sun. For the past several hours she’d watched her slightest whim become reality.

So why does everything feel like it’s spiralling out of control?

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either Found and Lost or Bottled Life, will be posted in two weeks. If you study the previous author's notes, you'll know which is the real title!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 8: Bottled Life

Daring flicked her wings, still trying to shake loose the last of the moisture trapped inside her feathers. At least when they were soaked it was obvious that she was grounded, but these were basically dry already. She jumped into the air and flapped, but her wings were heavy and sluggish and the airflow was all wrong. She managed only a meter or two before stalling.

“I hate water,” she grumbled, shaking her wings again.

“Uh huh,” Rose muttered.

“Next time I’m taking the long route.”

“Uh huh.”

Their bridge was more than wide enough for the two of them to walk side by side, and their lantern illuminated a well-worn surface of stone bricks, wet and stained with mold. The air was humid but warm, unlike at the bottom of the cave.

“What do you wanna do when we find Cairo?” Daring asked. “I’m thinking we’re gonna need to surprise him. Each time we’ve rushed him he’s caught us like flies in glue. Maybe one of us can be the bait, while the other one sneaks around and knocks him in the back of his head.” She reared up and punched her hoof into her other hoof. “What do you think? Rose?”

“Uh huh.”

“Are you even listening?” Daring asked, flicking her tail in irritation.

Rose sighed. “Yeah, Ah’m listening. You wanna bait Cairo and have me sneak up behind him, right?”

“Well . . . I thought since you did such a great job with Magnet the Mighty . . . ” she taunted, trying to get a rise out of Rose.

“Ah don’t think we’re gonna be able to beat Cairo in a fight. Even if you can get ’round him and catch him surprised, he’s a Unicorn, and he clearly ain’t fussed about usin’ his magic to hurt us.” She absently rubbed at her shoulder then said, “More like we’re gonna hafta get to the Tome before he does.”

Daring snorted. “Boring.”

“Yeah, Ah know,” Rose agreed. “Hay, we’re almost there,” she said, pointing. The rock wall was floating out of the darkness, and a large stone archway met the bridge surface to lead . . . wherever it went. They could hear water crashing nearby, likely falling down towards the bottom of the seam, however far away that was.

“If he’s in there, waiting for us, he’ll see the lantern light. Here,” Daring said, reaching for their light. She held it in her mouth and lifted a wing up in front, high enough to block most of the light but low enough to look over the top of the wing. She felt rather like a caped villain at the moment.

Their eyes adjusted quickly and they quietly approached the archway. Inside it was very dark, without any hint of purple illumination from Cairo’s light. Daring wondered just where Cairo was hiding or, if he wasn’t here, how far ahead he’d gotten. How far did they have left to go?

Daring carefully set the lantern on the ground, keeping it covered. “I don’t see anypony,” she breathed.

Rose shook her head. “No, something’s not right.”

Daring waited for Rose to explain, even if it was just a gut feeling, but Rose was silent. She’d closed her eyes and was smelling the air in slow, deep breaths. Her forehoof traced a circle on the stones beneath them. All at once Daring noticed her coat prickling, and she tensed. She couldn’t see any magic, but Cairo was clearly nearby. “Rose. Rose!” she hissed.

Rose opened her eyes and exhaled, and the prickling faded.

“Ah think . . . ” She sniffed then shook her head. “Ah know it’s crazy, but Ah think there’s soil down here.”

“Were you doing that?” Daring asked. There was no other explanation for it. “Were you using magic?”

“Yeah. Earth Pony Magic. Ah can feel the land.” She narrowed her eyes, like she was trying to peer past the shadows. After a few moments she explained, “Earth magic helps us sense the seasons and the weather, or the land and crops. We’ve been farmers for generations.” There was a hint of pride in her voice. “Not real useful in caves, of course. But if Ah . . . well, if Ah ‘listen’ real careful, Ah can hear soil. Nearby. Or maybe what used to be soil.”

“You mean dirt?”

“No. Soil, with Earth magic in it, but it’s real faint. We might be near the surface.” She started walking again, and quickly hurried into a trot.

Daring rushed to keep up, running awkwardly trying to keep the lantern covered. The archway passed over them and led into short tunnel. On the other side was another cave, this one so large that the ceiling and walls quickly receded into the darkness. Their footsteps echoed around them.

“Rose!” Daring called out, her voice piercing the silence. “We can’t just go barging in here like this.”

Rose slowed to a stop. “Ain’t you the one wantin’ yer notebook back?”

“Yeah, but we’re gonna get lost in here.” She waved around at the blackness around them. In the distance Daring thought she could make out large blocky shapes that were slightly less dark than the background, but beyond that it might as well have been a moonless, cloudy night sky. “And if we got separated, or one of us falls and get knocked out, we’ll never find each other.”

“Well, stop hidin’ the lantern. Cairo ain’t here, or else by now he would’ve knocked us over, or strung us up, or hit us with something.” She rubbed her shoulder, grimacing.

Daring held the lantern high and lowered her wing, illuminating the cave.

Rose whistled. “Whoa, nelly.”

“I guess we found our farmers,” Daring muttered, after staring for a moment.

They had emerged into what Daring could only assume was some sort of settlement filling the expansive cavern. Small stone buildings covered in mildew and dripping with moisture dotted a smoothed floor, while around the outside a wall curved off into the darkness in both directions. The settlement was large enough that she couldn’t see the other side, but farther away from the walls the buildings grew larger and more elaborate. The walkway they found under their hooves curved and meandered around stalagmites and followed the rough contours of the cavern floor, while towards the nearest walls buildings were dug into the stone itself.

“This isn’t a temple,” Daring said, her heart racing. “It’s a city! Ponies lived here! This is amazing!” She grabbed the lantern and ran towards the nearest dwelling. It was a crude box, mostly walls and a sloped ceiling, with none of the detail left in its smoothed, worn surface. “It’s just large enough inside for a pair of ponies to sleep, maybe, or work? What kind of jobs would ponies have had in here?” There was a small bench and a pile of dirt and rocks, and some small shards of clay lay buried underneath. Cooking? Storage?

Beside the hovel was a small raised platform, on top of which sat several boulders that might once have been statues or carvings, even though they were now worn smooth. No tools nearby that Daring could see, even as she crawled over and around the carving area, but certainly small chunks of rock that had been carved away.

Like a small foal opening birthday presents, Daring jumped over to the next building, which had a small iron grating placed over what she guessed was a fire pit, though any charcoal or timber had long since eroded away.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Daring muttered, inspecting some markings on a stone pot. “There’s some sort of inscription here; I might be able to translate it.” She reached over her shoulder for her notebook, before remembering its tragic theft. She slumped. “Right.”

Rose called in from the walkway outside. “Hay, Daring, bring the lantern over here.”

On the large wall to the side was a faded black painting, with small flecks of paint in the dirt below, showing—

Daring paused and approached the painting, only half aware of Rose moving to stand beside her. The painting was of a pony, no doubt, or at least a rough outline of a pony. It had the right number of limbs and a head and a tail, but the limbs were all stretched out and it was solid black. It was painted large enough to reach almost to the top of the wall.

“Weird,” Rose commented, taking the lantern from Daring.

“Yeah. Really weird.” Daring tried to remember what her notebook said about the artwork of this culture, but came up blank. She reached up, hesitated for only a moment, then touched her hoof to the painting; when she pulled back her hoof it had flecks of black paint on the tip, which she quickly wiped off.

“Check out its eyes,” Rose said, pointing. Daring looked towards the head, higher up and stretched out like the rest of it. Small pieces of glass sat where the eyes would be, and they sparkled faintly in the lantern light.

“Creepy.”

“This whole place has been weirding me out,” Rose agreed. “Let’s keep going. Cairo’s gotta be in here somewhere. Keep an eye out.”

Daring reluctantly tore her gaze away from the painting and they continued walking.

Twilight hid around the corner and peered out as the adventurers resumed their trek into the city. Rose had grabbed the lantern and they were following a path down and away from the wall. Perfect. She waited until they were out of earshot then allowed herself a small groan, in the vain hope it would relieve some of the tension knotting her forehead into a mess. Not only was she pushing back the beasts from the area and keeping them hidden from the light, but it was taking a significant amount of magic to keep her presence shielded from Rose’s despicable Earth magic. Rose could only be allowed to sense another pony’s presence when Twilight was ready. Her only uplifting thought—and she was surprised to think so—was that at least she wouldn’t have to hold back the beasts for long.

An evil grin slid across her face, despite her discomfort. Everything’s finally coming up Twilight.

She turned around and inspected her final creation: a Unicorn mare, modeled mostly after herself in shape and silhouette in an attempt to make a believable character. Pale blue coat, and dirty red mane. A quill and low-burning candle for a cutie mark. Purple eyes—they all had purple eyes; Twilight wasn’t sure why they always had purple eyes. No matter; the mare looked just plain enough to be convincing.

Plain, and roughed up. A black eye, bruises on her barrel and back, scratches down her flank, and a small line of blood down her forehead. Strong limp, from an ugly bruise on her right hindleg, and her mane all messy and greasy. Twilight still didn’t trust her acting entirely, and the mare needed to gain the adventurers’ confidence quickly, so she had given the mare as nonthreatening of an appearance as she could.

Daring and Rose were going to need all the help they could get.

Twilight gently prodded the mare’s shoulder. She swayed to the side before correcting her balance. Her lungs were animated, breathing regularly. Every now and then her ear twitched. Small touches made her uncomfortably lifelike. So did not falling over at the slightest touch.

“Midnight Oil, can you hear me?” Twilight asked quietly, well aware how far her voice could travel without any competing sounds. She waved a hoof and peered close.

Nothing. Twilight would’ve been concerned if there had been anything in those eyes, looking back at her.

“I can’t always be there for you, like I was for Cairo,” Twilight explained, glad to be talking to a pony again, even if she wasn’t real. “And you need to interact, not just react. So you’re going to need a little more autonomy. But how?”

She cast about for inspiration. There was no single mixture of magic Twilight could just apply to make Midnight Oil come alive; even the most simple of manipulations required a very tailored spell that was more like training the subject to move and act and reinforcing or discouraging certain behaviors, than simply painting spells on a body and flipping some switch. The best course of action would be to take an existing design, modify it, and apply it to the mare.

She eyed the novel floating gently beside her. “You’re a genius!” Twilight exclaimed. The Metalsmith had created golems to maintain his Foundry and, ignoring the little detail that they’d turned out murderous and uncontrollable, their base was similar enough to Twilight’s needs that she could start from there.

She flicked through the pages, remembering as she read how Daring had discovered one of the Golems and how it had acted and behaved. She could imagine the manipulations that would’ve been needed in their creation. Clearly the author was no magic-user, but the principles were well-founded. Twilight nodded, even as puzzle pieces connected together in her head. She knew what to do. Preparing a base for her instructions, Twilight began.

Her horn glowed, illuminating the stonework around her. Purple whorls of magic bloomed over her head and pulled to Midnight Oil’s horn like iron filings to a magnet. As she cast she found herself humming. On the next page was a section that she liked—a story about souls, and Golems, and the Metalsmith—so she sang:

“Outside her head, a swirling thread of blinding silver heat:
A pony’s soul, her body whole but little more than meat.
Instead of dying while she’s lying broken on the street,
Collected, hoping to be resurrected far from hostile strife.”

Twilight smiled as her magic slotted into the space inside Midnight Oil’s empty head. Reaction, perception, appearance, demeanour; all of it inspired by Golems, borrowed from herself, and tweaked just a little. Twilight slowly built Midnight’s soul, watching lights sparkle behind her eyes.

“But fate has other plans to animate the Solifer.
Atop the carousel: a ruined Talos shell for her.”

She needed to share Midnight’s senses, and some reactions would need to be instinctive—no time for latency in some situations—so she lent a little of her own personality and demeanour and tapped into their feedback. She felt a brief bout of synesthesia as her hearing doubled for a moment before snapping into focus, and she could look through Midnight’s eyes if she tried hard enough. An added bonus: Twilight now had a way to keep a closer eye on the adventurers without risking being seen.

“A life debt to the Metalsmith the pony will incur
And death has little meaning in the seedy world of Bottled Life!”

With a final grunt, she finished, feeling the final spells settle into place. Lights danced behind Midnight’s eyes. Done.

She tried again. “Midnight Oil, can you hear me?”

For a second, Twilight thought she’d messed up, but then the mare blinked, focused on Twilight, and nodded.

Twilight lifted her own foreleg, held it to the side, then set it down again. Midnight mirrored her motions, then frowned. “I think my leg hurts. Is it supposed to hurt?” she asked.

Twilight took an extra moment to separate her hearing from Midnight’s—it sounded like those words had come from herself—and rubbed Midnight’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, they’re not real injuries. I just had to paint you a little more convincingly, and I gave you a more fleshed out personality than I gave the others.”

Midnight Oil looked confused. Twilight was about to launch into a more thorough explanation of the subtleties involved in manipulation versus parroting, but one of the monsters chose that moment to bash into one of her barriers, letting out a horrible screech and sending a flush of heat and discomfort down her horn. Quickly, then.

“Are you ready?” Twilight asked, more to be polite than anything else.

After a deep breath and a moment to steady herself, Midnight Oil nodded. “What do you need me to do?”

Twilight smiled and produced a checklist.

Daring and Rose walked deeper into the cavern, until even the light from the lantern couldn’t reach the sides, and the ceiling had receded into a sparkling darkness. That the cavern was large only contrasted further against the tight, winding corridors they’d trudged through so far, to the point that the feeling of isolation seemed to pull at Daring, like she was at a higher altitude and the air wasn’t as thick. A low hum had replaced the natural cave sounds—dripping, the occasional breezes, and small rocks tumbling as they walked by—as Daring’s mind struggled to fill the void.

While the walls and the ceiling receded, the buildings grew larger and more densely packed, until they were as narrow as the side streets in Canterlot. The farther they walked, the more they felt like this had been a real community of ponies.

“Ponies livin’ underground,” Rose breathed, breaking the silence. “Why would somepony live underground?”

“Pegasi live in the sky,” Daring reminded her. “Not that strange to think somepony would be comfortable down here. They would’ve lit the city, too—not just with a single lantern.”

“But ya need sunlight for farming—and what about fresh air?”

“There are currents down here. Maybe there’s some small pipes up to the surface?” Daring shrugged.

Rose nodded. “Ah guess if there was a good enough reason, you’d find ponies able to live down here. Maybe a little hard work, but if there was somethin’ down here worth being near. . . ” She trailed off.

“Like treasure?” Daring asked a little too casually.

“Maybe.”

The ruins grew taller and more elaborate as they continued deeper, and on more and more walls they found carvings and statues worn smooth. Stalagmites had grown on top of some of the buildings where water and sediment dripped down from above, while many other buildings had caved in or fallen apart.

And the farther they walked, the more of the strange paintings they found. Though Daring couldn’t quite understand why, the stretched, distorted paintings unsettled her. The carvings and statues and buildings were varied and complex, and looked like they’d taken a beating over the years, eroding and returning to nature. In contrast, the paintings all looked the same, and fresh, as if a single artist had in a fit of madness covered the whole settlement in some fevered dream which hadn’t stopped growing crazy. Always stretched and just off-angle, with long limbs and tilted heads, in the middle of some action: leaping, dancing, or feasting. Occasionally they were even painted over other carvings. Already, Daring was getting a feel for the sort of culture that grew down there, and wondered just how desperate they had to be to stay. Her eyes followed a painted limb that slid all the way down onto the path before finally ending in a hoof.

She looked up. Rose had stopped up ahead and was looking around, ears out. Before Daring could ask she held up a hoof, and kept listening. Daring waited, but other than the breeze and a distant rumble of flowing water, she could only hear silence.

“You can’t hear that?” Rose guessed.

“No. What?”

Rose stepped into a trot and led Daring off down a smaller path. “Ah can hear somepony, Ah think.”

Daring smirked. “Just like you could hear farming?”

Rose ignored her. “It’s close . . . ya see that?” She asked, peering into the darkness. “There’s light ahead. Like, a lit torch or somethin’.”

Daring squinted.

“Just up here,” Rose announced, turning a corner. Sure enough, the area was already lit by a flickering yellow and white light, and Daring thought she could hear somepony whimpering.

They slowed and approached a corner, peering around to see a Unicorn mare huddled into a ball in a corner between two buildings, her horn glowing weakly.

The pony hadn’t noticed them yet. Daring stopped, immediately suspecting a trap, and looked around for some sign of ponies sneaking up behind them. Rose, on the other hoof, ignored all reason and hurried forward.

“Hello? Are you okay?”

“Rose!” Daring hissed. “Fucking obvious trap!”

“Daring, get yer ass over here and help. She’s hurt!” Rose turned to the pony and lifted the muddy hair from her face, revealing scratches and a nasty bruise. “Land sakes. Can you hear me?”

The pony’s eyes swirled for a moment before settling on Rose’s face. After a moment the mare gasped and threw herself backwards, falling on her backside. She shuffled back, wide-eyed, whimpering and hiccupping. She looked like she’d been crying.

“It’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you,” Rose insisted, crawling forward.

“Get back!” the mare cried, scrambling over herself to reach her saddlebags and grab something.

“Rose!” Daring yelped, throwing herself at Rose.

The mare reached back and clumsily threw a small, round object at the adventurers. Daring barreled into Rose and knocked her out of the way just as a brilliant flash and metallic snap stunned her.

The alleyway went silent, and the Unicorn didn’t attack again. Once Daring felt they were safe she said, in quite simple terms, “When I say trap, I mean it.”

“Thanks,” Rose wheezed from under Daring. “Please move.”

Daring rolled off and looked at the Unicorn, who had apparently knocked herself out.

“What the hay was that?” Rose asked.

Daring gave the mare’s shoulder a weak shake, then shook a little harder. Nothing. Still alive, still breathing, but thoroughly not there. She looked behind the mare. Her saddlebags had spilled over the ground, and a small pile of those same small stones had scattered into the corner behind her. Daring grabbed one and held it up to the lantern. It was about the size of a wine grape, but hard like metal. Small patches glowed amber in the lantern light, while the rest looked like rust.

“She threw one of these.” She held it up for Rose to inspect.

Rose leaned back. “Careful, those things are dangerous.”

“Yeah. You just throw them . . . hey, I’m gonna try one. Watch out!”

Rose pulled her hat down over her eyes. Daring threw the stone into the darkness and closed her eyes tight. It exploded some distance away, bright enough to see a glow through her clenched eyelids and loud enough to echo through the chamber. The force with which Daring’s brain yelled that a snapped cable was rushing at her was surprising.

“Wow,” Rose said. “Uh . . . ya think she’s got anything else dangerous hidden in those bags?”

“I don’t think she’ll mind us taking a quick peek,” Daring suggested, indicating the mare’s zoned-out appearance.

Rose carefully shoved the stones into a pile then started rifling through her bags. “Junk, empty canteen, apple cores, writing stuff—nothin’ dangerous, Ah don’t think. Hold on . . . ” Her face fell. “Well, would ya lookit that.”

Rose pulled out a pair of photographs and held them up in front of the lantern. They were blurry and out of focus, but Daring didn’t need long to recognize their own faces.

“She’s one of Cairo’s goons,” Rose muttered.

“Great. Let’s take her stuff and leave . . . her . . . ” Daring trailed off, as soon as she caught Rose’s expression. “We’re not gonna leave her, are we?”

“She’s injured,” Rose explained, pointing to her left hindleg, “and it looks like she’s not quite all there. If she’s got a concussion she’s in trouble. So, no, we’re not gonna leave her.”

The mare groaned and rolled onto her side. Her eyes were wide open, blinking now and then, and still unfocused.

“Sure,” Daring agreed, “but what else can we do? We can’t just stop and wait for her to wake up on her own. And don’t forget, the moment she wakes up she might decide to, I dunno, use her magic? And trap us?”

“Ah guess,” Rose grumbled.

“I don’t like it either, but she’s safer here. She got on just fine without us, and we can always come back for her after.”

Rose looked like she wanted to argue some more, but just as Rose was about to speak Daring felt a shiver pass over her. Given Rose’s aborted speech and bug eyes, she clearly felt it too. A distant wail echoed through the city, bouncing off the high ceiling and between the buildings. It sounded like a cry for help layered with a mix of screeches and bellows that Daring would expect out of a chorus of different angry animals.

“Uh, ya heard that too, right?” Rose asked, backing up and looking around, trying to find the source of the cry.

“You mean the terrible howl of something evil coming to eat us?” Daring gulped. “Yeah. I heard it too.”

So had the mare. She started groaning and pressing against her skull.

They paused, straining to hear more, but the city was silent.

“Forget this,” Rose said, undoing her saddlebags and tossing them to Daring. “Ah’m carryin’ her. Grab her stuff.”

Rose stopped to shift her weight and balance the mare slung sideways over her back. She was significantly slower with her Unicorn cargo than when she was laden with saddlebags, but the mare’s constant groaning provided a welcome distraction from the noises floating over the settlement. They hadn’t heard any more of the echoey howls, but every few minutes they’d hear some small shifting of rubble, or splashing noises, or a flutter of something papery. Unsettling.

Daring stopped beside her and set the lantern on the ground, stretching her jaw. “Where are we supposed to go?” Daring asked.

Rose shrugged as best she could with a mare draped over her back. They’d walked only about half a mile since finding the mare, and Rose couldn’t shake the feeling at the back of her neck of being watched.

“Does yer notebook have anything about this place?” Rose asked. When Daring growled she added, quickly, “Ah know Cairo has it. Ah wanna know if it’ll help him.”

Daring sighed and looked at the buildings around them. “Maybe. Mesoequestrian architecture wasn’t all that complicated; they usually just built buildings around a priest’s temple. If it were me, I’d be heading there.”

“Building around a temple . . . so Cairo’s probably heading towards the center.” Not that she knew which way was the center. A thought occurred: “Did they build on hills?”

“Huh?”

“Like, their towns. The Mesoequestrians. Did they normally build on hills, or in the plains?”

“Uh, hills, I think. They’d want to overlook their farmlands.”

“These ponies came from normal towns at one point, so maybe this place is built like one on the surface. If Ah had to put a temple somewhere in here, and if Ah came from the surface where we put our towns on hills, then Ah’d put that temple at the highest point.” She grinned. “So, we go uphill. Do ya see?”

Daring shook her head. “Except that there’s no guarantee the cavern has a high point. It might be a giant bowl. Or the ground might be totally random.”

Rose scowled. “Yeah, yer right.”

Daring kicked a rock and sighed. “I just wish I remembered where we came in. Her snapstone got me all turned around, and this place is like a maze—”

“Labyrinth,” Rose said without thinking.

Daring paused, eyes clenched shut. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, like yer the only one capable of using correct terminology. Ya said it yerself: when it’s large enough fer a pony to get lost in, it’s called a—”

“Labyrinth,” Daring finished, quietly. Her eyes shot open and a grin spread over her face. “Rose! You’re a genius!”

Rose nodded. “Ah should think so.”

“No! Don’t you see? It’s an actual labyrinth!” Daring shrugged off her bulging saddlebags and started inspecting the nearby rubble, before stopping in front of a large pile. “That’s why the walls are so high. That’s why the streets are so narrow. It’s trying to get us turned around! And when you’re lost in a labyrinth—oof,” she grunted, pushing a large boulder up against the wall, “ . . . the best way out is over the top.”

With the lantern grasped firmly in her jaw she clambered over the boulder, squeezed her way up between two walls, and crawled over a beam that was once part of a ceiling. Soon she’d hopped up around another wall and out of sight, leaving Rose in the dim light bouncing off of nearby buildings.

Without Daring’s constant chattering, the street fell silent, mostly. The mare slung over Rose’s back groaned and shifted. Something dripped nearby. And she could hear the shifting of pebbles and rocks, hopefully from Daring’s climb. But otherwise the darkness was so quiet she could almost hear a hum in the background.

In the distance, another of the . . . things howled, its voice echoed and distorted as it bounced around inside the city. She refused to believe they were being followed; it was just her imagination. Still, Daring was certainly taking her time.

“Well? Whaddya see?” Rose hollered, looking around, peering into the shadows, watching for any sign of life in the dead city.

Finally Daring’s voice yelled down. “This place is huge!”

“Can ya see the center?” Rose yelled.

“I don’t know. There’s a few tall buildings around here—but I don’t see anything that looks like a church or whatever.” Daring was silent for a few moments more before yelling, “Hold on, I’m coming down.”

The shadows bounced and Daring and the lantern came into view, gliding down the alleyway. Her flight path was all wobbly like a newborn, and her landing was more skid than not, but seeing Daring in the air gave Rose new hope that they’d have a pair of wings in no time, even if she wasn’t about to admit as much to Daring.

Daring was breathing hard from her waterlogged flight but there was a look of excitement in her eyes, and she was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s incredible!”

“What is?”

“This whole city! It just goes on and on! I can’t even see the entrance, and the light went pretty far.” She was vibrating with excitement. “It’s an actual, honest-to-Princess labyrinth!”

“So . . . ya couldn’t see the center.” Rose had the sudden urge to wipe the grin from Daring’s face.

“No, I don’t think so. But, I did see something that way.” She pointed ahead. “Something cut a line through the walls and roofs. Maybe a road? I think we should try to reach it.”

Rose sighed. “Might as well. Can ya find yer way there?”

“No problem,” Daring said, squeezing back into her saddlebags. “I’ve got a great sense of direction.”

Rose’s eye twitched, but she kept her mouth shut and followed Daring as she led the way down a path between two buildings. As they met intersections and chose different paths she could hear Daring muttering their directions like she was following a recipe. Soon Rose was completely turned around, but every now and then when she looked back she could still see Daring’s earlier viewpoint looming out of the darkness.

Another head-splitting howl startled Rose, this time from much closer than before. Rose didn’t bother asking if Daring had heard it too. The mare on her back groaned and wiggled around. Rose fought to keep her balanced, grateful for the distraction.

The low humming grew into a dull roar, and she could feel dampness in the air. Surfaces shined from mist in the lantern light, highlighting both elaborate carvings, which Daring would often pause to inspect, and crude paintings, which they kept at a distance whenever possible.

“Uh, Daring, did you lead us back to the entrance? Cause it’s like we’re in that chasm again.”

“I don’t think so . . . Ah, here we go.”

They turned a corner and emerged onto a paved circle, where several smaller paths and roads intersected. The buildings around the circle had openings facing inwards, though as ruined as they were Rose couldn’t guess their purpose. Cutting a line straight through the circle was a dark, fast river. Looking around, Rose could see a pile of rubble that might once have been a bridge, but there was nowhere to cross now.

Rose slid her cargo into a sitting position, and she and Daring approached the river, holding the lantern high. The water was clear and shallow, so she could see right to the rocky bottom. Large, smoothed slabs littered the riverbed, and the surface of the river was rough and chaotic, sending sprays and mist into the air. Rose shivered, and stood closer to the lantern.

“Flowing water, arable land, buildings, roads . . . ” Daring looked around in awe. “They really did live down here. Fascinating.”

“That’s great and all, Daring, but Ah’m more concerned with figuring out where ‘down here’ is. Any more ideas?”

Daring looked at the buildings around the circle. “None of these places are really tall enough to get a viewpoint. But . . . it looks like we’ve got a couple obvious choices.” She pointed upriver. “We can head towards the source of the river, or we can see where it goes,” she said, pointing downriver.

“Or we go across,” Rose suggested, though the river looked rough enough that she didn’t fancy trying to get over it.

Daring groaned. “No, there’s gotta be a clue here. C’mon, think!” She eyed the mare behind them. “Anything from her?”

“Ah don’t think so. She just tries to curl into a ball and hide whenever she hears one of them creatures.” Rose didn’t feel the need to tell Daring that she also wanted to curl into a ball and hide when she heard them.

She walked to the edge and in a fit of frustration kicked a rock into the river, and watched it flow away and out of sight. “Hey, Daring, where do ya s’pose all this water’s going?”

“Huh?”

“It’s flowing pretty fast, right? That’s a lot of water that’s all gotta go somewhere.”

“I guess it drains out somewhere. Maybe some cave opens up somewhere downriver.”

Of course. “Not just some cave, Daring. This river feeds all those waterfalls we had to climb through in the chasm.” She pointed downriver. “That means the entrance is back there, which means the priests’ temple’s gotta be that way,” she pointed upriver.

Daring nodded slowly. “Yeah . . . if the temple is in the center, and if it does pour out into the chasm, and if the water is coming from the center. It could be pouring in from the side somewhere else. Hay, there could even be more rivers. That’s a lot of ifs.”

“You got a better idea?”

“Not really. We could set another fire and try to dry my wings faster. . . ”

A not-so-distant howl dashed that option.

Rose hurried back to the injured mare trying to crawl her way up the wall. “Ah say we give it a shot. Keep the river to one side of us and head upriver. It’s gotta go somewhere, right?”

Despite the complexity of the city she had to memorize, despite the constant barrage against her barriers surrounding the adventurers, despite the incredibly weak ceiling threatening to cave in at any moment, and especially despite the revolt her body seemed to be staging, Twilight found herself enjoying this section of her adventure. The tall buildings and relatively low light afforded her a front-row seat to the spectacle, and the roar of rushing water, the loud panting, and the spine-chilling wails meant she didn’t have to be particularly quiet. She’d finally managed to dull the glow of her horn to the same color and brilliance as their lantern. And the headaches were constant enough now that she barely noticed them.

The adventurers turned a corner, found another dead-end, and cursed. Twilight smiled and tilted an ear towards them.

“This is ridiculous! How’d these ponies not get lost just goin’ about their daily lives?”

“C’mon, I think we can take an earlier right turn. That oughta bring us back towards the river.”

Rose turned to follow, muttering the whole way. Through Midnight Oil’s senses Twilight could feel Rose’s back muscles working to keep herself stable despite her cargo; could see just how dark it was for the two adventurers, frequently travelling through deep shadows; and could clearly hear the empty threats Rose was making concerning the Unicorn she deeply resented finding.

It was incredibly satisfying.

Twilight looked towards the Sanctum. Slowly but surely Daring and Rose were closing in on the building, and within it the clues they’d need to find the Tome. Though she was glad the adventurers hadn’t yet grown fatally despondent in the labyrinth, and though she was impressed with their progress, she felt it was time for one or two little motivations.

Daring stopped and backed up several paces. To their right, roughly in the direction of the sounds of rushing water, she saw a reflection between two buildings which she had assumed was only a short alleyway. It was just wide enough for a pony draped sideways over another pony’s back to fit.

“Through here,” she said, holding the lantern high and folding her wings in tight. The buildings quickly pressed together, and for a moment the cold rock and sounds of rushing water brought her back to the cave, but then she popped through and tumbled out into an open, paved square surrounded by tall buildings on all sides.

She turned to help pull the Unicorn through the passage, but froze when she finally looked at the walls themselves.

“Daring! A little help?” Rose asked, trying to balance herself and the Unicorn through the narrow alleyway.

“Uh, yeah. Here,” she muttered, tearing her eyes away from the paintings and reaching for one of the Unicorn’s limbs. Together they lifted her from Rose’s back and slid her through the alleyway, trying to avoid injuring her any more than she already was. Daring carefully set her into a sitting position against the wall, squeezed out of her saddlebags, then walked into the center of the square. Behind her Rose tended to the mare.

“Land sakes,” Rose panted. “How is she still uncon . . . unconscious . . . whoa.”

The walls facing into the square were covered in the strange black paintings. Dozens and dozens of bizarre, disfigured pony paintings crammed together, fighting for canvas space and surrounding Daring and Rose. Some were faded and had sections washed away, including one pony whose neck simply ended in a series of drip lines. Others were several meters above the ground, stretched to the top of the walls in monstrous proportions and shapes that looked to be reaching down towards them. The low hum had replaced the sounds of rushing water and there was a faint note of static echoing down from the ceiling somewhere.

Daring gulped. “This is . . . odd.”

Rose walked up beside her. “Ah’m not entirely sure Ah care whether Cairo finds the Tome or not, Daring.”

“They’re just paintings,” Daring said, trying to keep her composure. She reached out to the nearest painting and rubbed her forehoof across one of the legs, smearing and crumbling the dried paint to the floor. “See? Somepony painted this.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re any less freaky,” Rose argued. “Why would ponies paint these . . . these things everywhere?”

“I dunno. Maybe they didn’t—maybe another group discovered this place and vandalized it long after the original inhabitants abandoned it.”

Rose looked at the highest paintings that nearly stretched overhead. “Vandals,” she repeated, with a raised eyebrow. “Graffiti.”

“Maybe. All I’m saying is that the ponies that lived here didn’t necessarily paint these. Something else put them here. Maybe.”

Rose pursed her lips and shook her head. “That something else decided to go a little more violent this time,” she said, pointing at the nearest pony paintings. “All the others are dancing, or eating, or racing. These are all—”

“Fighting.” One was bucking, its hindlegs stretching around a corner and onto the next building. Another was reaching high, and Daring couldn’t tell what it was reaching for until she pictured an unpainted pony hanging from its forehoof. Another still was lying on the ground, its leg bent at a very deliberate angle. Daring wondered just what the ponies of this city had had to endure to survive down here.

Behind them, the Unicorn let out a groan. Rose turned to check up on her.

One of the paintings reached down to the floor, its legs stretching nearly to the center. Something about the way the pony’s legs angled together once they were on the floor . . . Daring tilted her head, now more curious than unsettled. Though the painting was large and skewed, the legs themselves looked more reasonably spaced.

Daring knelt and brushed at the hoof of one its forelegs, smearing away the dried pigment. She just couldn’t get over how somepony had sat down and spent the time to paint this and the other paintings. It might not have been one pony that covered the whole city—in fact, Daring was sure it couldn’t’ve been one pony—so why had the citizens gone and done this?

Rose spoke up from behind her. “Daring, could you move? Yer blockin’ the light.”

Daring turned around and saw her shadow stretching out from her hooves to the wall, partially covering Rose as she tended to the mare.

Stretching out . . .

“Holy shit!” Watching her silhouette, she jumped into the air, pumping her wings hard but focusing on the wall. Her shadow climbed, too, stretching up and over the building far quicker than Daring herself. She glided over the lantern and watched her shadow jump from building to building, limbs weirdly foreshortened but in an obvious way. “They’re shadows! Just regular pony shadows!” She landed, grinning like an idiot and performing a celebratory dance.

Rose watched Daring’s shadow as she leapt over and posed in front of the lantern, then looked over the encircling murals. “So those earlier paintings . . . they were shadows from ponies who were actually runnin’, and dancin’, and feastin’?”

“Yeah! And these . . . ” Daring paused. “These are shadows from ponies who were actually fighting.” The pony with a broken leg. The pony missing a head. The two ponies intertwined. The towering monsters. “Oh, Princess.”

“No. No!” Rose looked upset, ears flat against her head, and backed away from the wall. “Why would somepony paint these? What kind of sick pony paints other ponies gettin’ torn apart?”

“Maybe they had some sort of battle here, and the survivors needed to record it?”

“No!” Rose looked physically sickened. “They had carvings! And statues! Just like normal ponies! Oh, stars above . . . ”

“Calm down,” Daring said quietly, carefully approaching Rose. “They’re horrible, but they’re still just paintings. They’re not going to get up and start walking around. They can’t hurt us.” She placed a forehoof on Rose’s withers, trying to reassure her.

“Ah know that!” Rose shouted, whirling around out of Daring’s reach. “But they didn’t just paint these to scare other ponies. They’re too perfect for some pony to just imagine it all. This happened, Daring. This happened and some poor pony watched it. Some poor pony watched another pony get torn in two!” She pointed at the sliced shadow. Her hoof was shaking. “No pony should have to see that.”

Daring shrugged. “These tribes . . . they came from an earlier time. Before Celestia, before Equestria, their lives were brutal and harsh. But that was so long ago. Whatever . . . event inspired the ponies here to paint these is long over. The societies that practiced art and literature, that had laws and rights, they’re the ones that are still around.”

Rose took a steadying breath. “Yeah. Long time ago. Makes me real thankful for bein’ born when Ah was.”

“And above ground?”

Rose nodded, not looking particularly calmer. “Let’s go. Ah can’t hardly hear the river any more. We should backtrack a little.”

“Yeah.” Daring grabbed the lantern and held it at head level, walking around to grab her heavy saddlebags. Rose’s shadow jumped over the wall, finally stopping beside one of the more boring paintings. Daring said, “Hey, it kinda lines up with that one.”

Rose shook her head. “No, see? The hooves aren’t in the same place.”

She was right. Though the painting’s body more or less lined up with Rose’s shadow, the legs went to the right, while her shadow came from the left. Rose walked over to the hooves on the painting, stretched out onto the floor, and stood atop them. Daring walked the lantern over to line up Rose’s shadow with the painted silhouette.

“It’s a little too tall,” Daring said. The shadow wasn’t coming from a light source held at head height, but a little higher. She bent her knees and flared her wings.

“No!” the mare behind them yelled.

Daring jerked back in surprise. She staggered, losing her balance and flicking the lantern upwards. Rose’s shadow fell overtop the painted shadow and lined up perfectly.

Rose felt it before she heard it: a severe frost deep in her bones, a feeling of raw hunger, almost immediately followed by a guttural, animal wail. She caught motion out of the corner of her eye and turned to watch the painting on the wall gain depth and lunge right at her, hooves outstretched, still howling.

Something knocked her forward: Daring Do, still stumbling from the Unicorn’s cry. The two of them tumbled to the floor just as the pony soared overhead. Rose rolled away from Daring and scrambled to her hooves, as the shadow skidded to a stop, snarling and turning to face her.

Rose tried to get a good look at the thing, but it was like trying to focus on a blurry picture. The pony was black on black: its coat, its mane, and its tail were all darker than the city around them, dark enough that she couldn’t see any detail, even in the warm lantern light. Rose could just make out that the pony was panting heavily, its tail flicking back and forth. Only its eyes were sharp, in focus, and lit: they glowed a sinister purple that seemed to bleed into a murky haze around its head. It leaned into a yell that she felt more than heard, thick with anger and pain, before leaping at her again.

Rose ducked to the side, just barely dodging the shadow’s lunge, and kicked out her hindlegs, expecting to impact on the pony’s thigh but only hitting air. It was fast. The shadow turned and shifted sideways, even as Rose struggled to keep her balance. It rushed her, headbutting her in the chest and shoving her onto her backside. She barely felt her rough landing. The shadow advanced, rearing up, its forehooves looming over her.

She slid herself backwards, wincing as the hooves fell between her legs, slamming onto the stonework with a terrible clang. She rolled onto her gut and leapt to her hooves, quickly turning to the side to move out of its path.

“Heads up!”

Rose whipped around, just catching a blue blur zoom past her, head first. Daring slammed into the shadow’s shoulder, sending it sprawling across the ground. The shadow howled in anger. Daring leapt into the air, flapping hard to gain altitude to dive-bomb it, but there wasn’t much room in the little square.

Movement behind her. Heart pounding, she whipped around, expecting to see the remaining shadows peel away from the wall and pounce, but it was only the Unicorn, pulling herself over the ground, dragging her injured leg.

“Where are my bags?” she yelled.

Rose ignored her and turned back just in time to watch Daring fall to the ground and the shadow land atop her, slashing and kicking and snarling like a beast. Daring yelped in pain when its hoof connected with her chest. Rose yelled and ran for the pair, twisting at the last second and diving right at the shadow. With a snarl she knocked it off its hooves.

The shadow howled and stood to face them. Rose climbed to her hooves, wincing as her joints complained. Beside her, Daring kept her body low and her legs bent. The shadow paused, panting heavily and snorting.

“C’mon! That the best ya got?!” Rose yelled, feeling something hot and angry surge through her.

The shadow backed away a step, looking back and forth between them, the motion only obvious from its glowing eyes. Then it looked away, towards the other wall. Rose risked a glance—the lantern had landed on the other side of the room, still rolling in a lazy circle.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Rose shoved her way past Daring just as the shadow tensed and leapt into the air. She was closer but it was faster, and Rose knew it was going to reach the lantern before she could, that it was going to destroy their one source of light and leave them blind and helpless.

The shadow landed without a sound and grabbed the burning wick in the center of the lantern, and all at once its shape began to blur and mist. Rose dove at the shadow, only to fly clear through it. The wall behind it was so close Rose didn’t have time to correct before slamming into the wall and crumpling to the ground. The light from the lantern flared before dimming.

“No!” she cried, trying to swat away the shadow monster’s vapor, but her hoof slid clear through, chilling right to the bone.

“Close your eyes!” the Unicorn yelled. She had something small in her hoof and was awkwardly reaching back to throw it.

Rose rolled away and buried her head in her hooves. Something burst right beside her, loud enough to leave a ringing in her ears and bright enough that she could see the flash of the reflection from behind her hooves.

A few seconds passed, and her hearing slowly returned. She blinked the shock from her eyes and took stock. Daring Do was standing over her, locked in a defensive stance and blocking anything from getting to Rose. The monster was gone and the lantern was still intact, burning brightly. None of the other shadows were moving . . . at least none that she could see.

For a moment, the only sounds were panting, gasping, and ringing. Then Daring broke the silence.

“What the fuck? Ahh!” she cried, immediately wincing and pressing her hoof to her chest where the monster had hit her. She was trembling. “What in Tartarus was that?!”

Rose climbed to her hooves, watching the Unicorn. She’d shoved herself into a sitting position against the wall and was rifling through their bags, muttering to herself. She kept glancing around the square, eyeing the darkened corners or the tops of the buildings for . . . motion? More shadows?

“Hay!” Rose said. “Answer her!”

The pony ignored her and continued searching through their bags, pulling out various items and tossing them to the side. Anger, fear, exhaustion, and ache welled up inside Rose. Forget this. She marched up to the Unicorn, grabbed her mane, and yanked her out of their saddlebags.

The Unicorn yelped, dropping whatever was in her hooves and scrambling forward to keep her mane attached to her head. “Ow! Please, don’t hurt me!”

“Answer her!” Rose barked.

The Unicorn tried to pull herself free from Rose’s grip, but she was weak and had no leverage with an injured leg dragging behind her. Rose pulled her in, face to face, so close their noses nearly touched.

“What was that thing?” she asked.

The Unicorn whimpered, her eyes continuously flicking back and forth from the walls to the two adventurers. Rose reluctantly let go of the pony’s mane, and the pony slumped to the ground and hid her face between her forelegs. After a few short moments she said, quietly, “A shadow. It—it’s a Shadow Pony.”

“Shadow Pony?” Rose wondered. Her eyes went wide, and she gasped. “Cairo did this. Cairo found the Tome of Shadows and he’s—he’s unleashed this Shadow Pony!”

The Unicorn looked at her and shook her head. “No, he didn’t! They’ve been down here for hundreds of years.” She pouted. “And Cairo wouldn’t do that. He’s trying to get the Tome out of here, not use it.”

“Ya think it’s just a coincidence that—” Rose blinked. “Wait. They?”

The Unicorn gestured at the paintings on the walls surrounding the square. Each looked like a Shadow Pony waiting to strike. Rose turned around, suddenly afraid to keep her back to any of them. “All of these . . . ?”

“Hold on, why aren’t these attacking us?” Daring asked.

“Until now you haven’t stood around long enough to anger any of them.” She coughed. “They’re perfectly content to suck down any light that hits their silhouettes, but if you remove that source of light, they get hungry again.” She pointed at Rose’s shadow, stretched and distorted from her angle to the lantern. “And if you cast a shadow over one . . . they get angry.”

“So all the paintings we’ve lit, then left behind . . . ” Daring muttered.

“Anytime we’ve walked over a shadow’s hooves . . . ” Rose whispered.

The Unicorn nodded. “They feed on light. It makes them stronger. Down here they don’t get much light. The only way to kill one is to feed it so much light that it bursts.”

“That stone you threw at me,” Rose remembered. “Twice.”

“Snapstones.”

Daring said, “So we smash the lantern. They won’t follow us if we aren’t feeding them any light.”

“And break our only source of light down here? Ah don’t think even you can see in the dark, Daring.”

“It’s not completely dark down here. There’s some sort of bioluminescence—”

“Not happening,” Rose said flatly. She approached the Unicorn. “How’d you know all this? Who are you?” She yanked the two crumpled photographs from her bags and pushed them in the Unicorn’s face. “And where did you get these?”

The mare winced and looked away. “My name is Midnight Oil. I work for Cairo. All his employees will recognize you on sight, he made sure of that.” She groaned and shook her head. “I’ll tell you everything, but not here. It’s not safe here.” She pointed at the silhouettes, greedily slurping down lantern light. “At least, not anymore.”

Rose slumped back and looked at Daring. “As soon as we leave, these Shadows are gonna chase us, huh?”

“Unless we leave the lantern here,” Daring said, nodding. “Can you stand?” she asked Midnight.

“Maybe.” Midnight Oil propped herself up on her forelegs, but when she put weight on her left hindleg she collapsed with a grunt. “Maybe not.”

“We’re trying to get to the center of the city. Do you know how to get there?” Rose asked.

Midnight was silent for a few moments, then nodded. “Yes. I think so. It’s pretty far, and I don’t know how many Shadow Ponies are between us and it, but the layout is actually fairly repetitious.” She relaxed her neck and let her face rest on the floor. “The closer we get to the Sanctum in the center, the more likely the Shadows will have been awoken by somepony else.” She sounded exhausted. “But the Sanctum’s the only safe place in the city. We can’t stay here.”

“Horseapples,” Daring swore. “What do we do?”

Midnight looked up at them, a look of distaste on her lips. “Either we sneak past,” she said, lifting the lantern with her weak magic—if she dropped it or let go, it would shatter; “or we break through.” With a free hoof, she slid the pile of snapstones in front of them.

“Pick one.”

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either Sneaking Past or Breaking Through, will be posted in two weeks. Which would you choose?

If you're enjoying the show, why not leave a like?

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 9: Breaking Through

Daring’s part in the plan was simple: aerial support. Midnight would steer Rose clear of dead ends, while Daring would keep their route clear and burst as many Shadow Ponies as she could. She gave her wings a flick: mostly dry, light and airy again, and anyways she was buzzing with enough adrenaline that she totally could’ve lifted them even if they’d been made of lead. Midnight passed her a tiny cloth bag filled with half of their snapstones. Daring tied it tight around her foreleg, within easy reach of her throwing hoof.

“You’ll keep us in sight, right?” Rose asked.

“Duh.”

“And don’t use up too many of those snapstones,” Rose reminded her.

Daring nodded. On the walls facing into the square she could see the obvious movement of silhouettes, now that she knew what to look for.

“But don’t let them shadows get too close. Ah can’t maneuver as well as normal with Miss Oil on mah back.”

“I got it, Rose. Blow shit up. No problem.” She leapt into the air, revelling at the sensation of hovering, of her legs dangling below her, of her wings forcing huge rivers of air past her with each stroke. Excitement joined adrenaline and she smiled. “Oh yeah! I totally got this!” she yelled.

“Quiet!” Rose hissed, eyes darting back and forth over the silhouettes.

“These shadows aren’t angry,” Daring reminded her, “yet.”

“Have you forgotten all the other Shadow Ponies we’ve been hearing all night?”

“I’m not saying we shouldn’t be quiet, I’m saying you shouldn’t get too worried about these ones!”

“It doesn’t matter,” Midnight Oil interrupted. “We’ll be making more than enough noise and light to attract most of them.”

“Wonderful.”

“Ready?” Daring asked.

Rose knelt beside Midnight and let her hoist herself onto Rose’s back. Midnight clutched the lantern tightly and held it above Rose’s head, wrapping her other foreleg around Rose’s shoulder.

“Ready!” Rose said. “Which way?”

Midnight pointed down a side street. “As soon as we leave the square they’re gonna come after us.”

“Ah know. Ah won’t stop. Just point me in the right direction and we’ll be fine.” Rose looked back at Daring. “Stay close.”

Daring saluted and shot into the relative safety of the black sky. Below, Rose and Midnight set off down the side street, plunging the square into darkness. Even though Daring was expecting it, the chorus of screeches that echoed through the cavern still shocked her. Dark shadows filled the square before the last of the light faded.

“Let’s see how this works,” Daring muttered, focusing on the square and its new tenants.

She folded into a dive and shot towards them, reaching for a snapstone. It was heavy, denser than it should be. Good for throwing. At the bottom of her arc she threw the stone into the mass of Shadow Ponies just as she pulled up. A flashbulb went off behind her, painting the surrounding city white for a fraction of a second. When Daring looked behind her the square was filled with a cloud of burning embers. Daring whooped.

She looked ahead. Rose and Midnight had taken a couple turns and were pacing themselves. A pair of Shadow Ponies jumped into the lane behind them, darting back and forth over the brickwork, up the walls and over gaps, only visible by their motion. They were fast—easily as fast as Rose and Midnight. Daring swooped low and reached for another snapstone.

SNAP. The closest Shadow Pony burst into embers while the other howled and continued running. It was close enough to Rose and Midnight that it was travelling over lit stonework more often than not, even as the two ponies weaved and turned. Before Daring could reach for another snapstone, another flash went off right behind Rose: Midnight had turned and taken out the Shadow Pony herself.

Ahead, another Shadow Pony was racing towards them down another street, about to cut them off. Daring flew to the side, dropped low, and tossed a snapstone in the path of the approaching Shadow Pony. It leapt through the air, spinning past the snapstone, and raced ahead, unfazed by the explosion behind it. Daring thought for a second that it had made eye contact with her—those burning purple eyes were all she could ever make out—but at least it couldn’t reach her.

The Shadow Pony turned the corner and sped down the narrow walkway towards Rose and Midnight. Daring followed behind, closing fast. She waited as long as she dared before throwing her next snapstone. This time her aim was true, and the Shadow Pony was only embers and smoke when Rose ran over it. Daring and Rose made eye contact, then Daring was pulling up and turning for another run.

Shadow Pony after Shadow Pony burst into smoke and coals, some dodging her throws initially, others perishing in groups. She grabbed her bag of snapstones and felt around—only about a dozen left. Each was powerful enough to incinerate a fair few Shadow Ponies, but she had to use them sparingly; otherwise she’d be useless in the air, and she knew Midnight didn’t have many more.

Around her the labyrinth stretched off into the distance. Rose and Midnight were easy enough to spot by the warm yellow glow racing down one of the lanes. Daring turned and dove to cover them. Buildings only half seen rushed past her, occasionally lit by the momentary glare of a snapstone bursting from the two runners. Motion on one of the buildings to the side. She turned her head to track the Shadow Ponies up there, wondering whether it was worth it to spend another snapstone—

Something cold and hard slammed into her side. She screamed in shock, even as the Shadow Pony scratched and bit at her. She tried to grab the Shadow Pony, tried to turn in its grasp and regain control, but it wasn’t cooperating. Her gut lurched as they dropped and spun through the air. Daring kicked and thrashed, desperate to get the thing off her. Up above, she could see the street approaching fast.

The Shadow Pony grabbed her around her withers, face to terrifying face, and the rushing wind pushed their lower bodies apart. Daring brought her knee up between their guts and shoved, loosening its grip. Her wings flared and pulled her free; she stabilized, rolled upright, and pulled up, skimming over the top of some ruined buildings and only just hearing the sickening crunch below. Good to know the Shadow Ponies followed the laws of physics.

She flapped hard to gain altitude. Where are they? She looked around, frantic, all turned around from the fight. Finally she spied the dull orange from Rose’s lantern down below. Oh, no! Above them, on top of the walls on either side, several of the Shadow Ponies had gathered. They weren’t blocking Rose’s path, but they weren’t racing to catch them, either.

Daring readied a snapstone and dove to investigate, careful to keep a good distance above them and still keep an eye on Rose and Midnight. She could only see their purple eyes, all watching her. Angry that she had altitude on her side? Trying to bait her away from the others?

The Shadow Ponies leapt into the air, closing the distance fast. Daring had just reached back, ready to throw another snapstone, when—

“Since when do you have wings!?” she hollered, realizing that of course some of the Shadow Ponies were Pegasi; then she had to duck and weave among a murder of black shadows swarming around her. Hooves and fangs poked and slashed at her, blocking her wings and stalling her airflow. Her stomach lurched as she fell from the group. She whipped a snapstone at the group, closing her eyes at the last moment and opening them to the sight of tumbling and evaporating Shadow Pegasi.

She looked around. More Shadow Pegasi were approaching, their purple eyes glowing like bolts of magic all aimed her way. She growled and narrowed her eyes. So they could fly? Big deal. She might not have been Equestria’s Best Young Flyer, but she was no slouch either.

Down below, the orange light bounced and raced through the labyrinth, right below the approaching flight of Shadow Pegasi. If she followed Rose and Midnight they’d swarm her and all the snapstones in the world wouldn’t stop them from crashing her into the stonework, but already she could see Shadow Ponies darting about between buildings, racing after Rose and Midnight. She had to get around the Shadow Pegasi, a lot of work and a lot of time, while all they had to do was stay between her and the runners.

“Crap.” Her wings ached from the exertion. Daring could stay aloft as long as she could stay awake, but only during a relaxed flight. Maneuvers like these sapped her strength and tested her endurance. She had to lose the Shadow Pegasi, and fast.

Daring banked to the side, away from Rose and Midnight and away from the flight of Shadow Pegasi, and put on the speed. With any luck she could lose them and catch up to Rose and Midnight before they got into too much trouble.

Twilight hid behind the top of what she’d decided was a meeting hall and watched the burning yellow glow advance its way through the labyrinth. Just beyond the lantern light, about a half dozen of her creations blurred together in a large mess of inky blackness, eagerly awaiting their prey. She’d given them enough cunning to keep them from running single file into a trap; she wanted them unpredictable as well as dangerous. This meant resurrecting the personalities from her jungle cats and building the shadow bodies around them. Now they hunted, rather than chased; now they didn’t need her constant control, just little hints here and there, and a little restraint now and then.

She looked up. Daring Do soared overhead, rocketing so fast that she left a rainbow trail despite Twilight’s best efforts to recolor it. No matter; Daring was focused only on aiming her snapstones and clearing a path for her team. A snapstone exploded in the distance, ahead of the runners, and Daring yelled some taunt that she couldn’t quite make out.

Rose Gambit and Midnight Oil pushed off into the distance. Twilight needed to keep up, needed to keep both parties in sight. She focused on a nearby rooftop and stepped through the space between spaces, teleporting almost instantly across the gap. Not too hard. A quick series of hops had her in prime view to watch Rose and Midnight approaching, even if it also had her feeling slightly nauseous.

Daring Do soared high overhead, visible only from her wake. Occasionally she would drop into freefall and rocket through an alleyway or street and casually incinerate a Shadow Pony, leaving a flaming, smoldering mess that would quickly extinguish itself. Twilight’s best guess was that Daring had about a dozen snapstones left, and she’d hardly made a dent in the number of Shadow Ponies, which was worrying.

Movement ahead. An intrepid Shadow Pony was climbing a nearby wall, trying to get the jump on Rose.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” Twilight shaped her barrier and wedged it between the wall and the Shadow Pony, then flung it up and away—just in time for Daring to come racing overhead.

WHACK

Daring and the Shadow Pony collided and immediately plummeted. Twilight could hear muffled yelling and swearing buried beneath the constant static that was slowly flooding the cavern. A mounting sense of horror filled Twilight as Daring dove towards the stonework, faster and faster, narrow walls reaching out towards her, and only after Daring kicked the thing loose and pulled up did she remember to breathe.

“Uh, sorry,” she muttered, unable to do much more than that. She blinked, shook her head, and reshaped her barrier into a much more boring sphere. This way, at least, if something flew into Daring it wouldn’t be her fault. Not that there were many Shadow Ponies coming after her. In fact, they all seemed bent on chasing down the adventurers, so she’d done something correctly.

Yelling brought her attention back to the runners. Rose and Midnight were going off-course: Shadow Ponies were inadvertently blocking the route in several key places. Midnight was having trouble both steering Rose and throwing her snapstones. Twilight needed to intervene and clear a path for them to continue, since this was taking them dangerously out of the way, but she needed to find a way to do so without Rose or Daring noticing.

They weren’t in trouble, yet; Midnight knew the layout of the labyrinth well enough to keep them from running into any dead ends, so long as the Shadow Ponies didn’t overwhelm them—or separate them.

More movement: in front of her another Shadow Pony had climbed the wall and was turning to face her. She gulped, strengthened her barrier, and winced—just in case—but the hit never came. She opened her eyes just in time to see the Shadow Pony leap over her, off into the sky.

Her jaw dropped.

“Since when do you have wings?!” she hollered. “I’m positive I didn’t give you wings!”

The Shadow Pegasus raced through the sky, and soon Daring Do was dodging and weaving through a whole cloud of them. Twilight ran after them, teleporting herself over the larger gaps. They were fast. In desperation she shot a trio of snapstones their way, but at that distance none hit. Daring turned and shot off into the darkness, dogged by Shadow Pegasi.

Rose and Midnight thundered under her perch. Snapstones burst around them, missing most of the Shadow Ponies that were closing in—Midnight wasn’t particularly dextrous when Twilight wasn’t directly controlling her. Ahead, the way was blocked and they were going to have to detour again.

Twilight whimpered, jumping from hoof to hoof. Daring dodged and danced, only barely staying aloft. Rose managed to slide past another Shadow Pony, nearly sending Midnight flying into the wall. Twilight couldn’t keep up with both parties and, apparently, no longer had control over the monsters she had let loose in the cavern. Already she was breaking her promise to keep them both safe. At least now it wasn’t entirely her fault.

While she had nothing but respect for Rose, Daring was less burdened and needed less help. With a regretful look she turned away from Daring and hurried after the two runners.

A fire smoldered inside her. If she got the adventurers safely to the Sanctum—once she got them there safely—she’d hunt down the Shadow Pegasi and incinerate them, one by one.

Rose’s legs were on fire and her lungs couldn’t keep a breath. Sweat streamed down her face. Above, her cargo and driver alternated between yelling at the sky and shouting confusing instructions right into her ears, instructions that led her in circles and up against the occasional dead end. Her lantern bounced back and forth in Midnight’s grasp, and several times it shook so fast Rose was sure she was gonna drop it. At least she wasn’t whacking her in the head with it, anymore.

Thankfully her new friends were happy to motivate her. Behind her a Shadow Pony howled, hungry and angry, but she didn’t have the time or the courage to look behind her. At least the ground was fairly level and mostly dry, ignoring the occasional pile of rubble or pool of water.

Ahead the route split into a T. “Which way?” she panted.

She could feel Midnight fumbling with the lantern and her small stock of snapstones. “Uh . . . hold on—”

“Midnight!”

“Left. Right! Right, go right!”

Rose rolled her eyes and leaned into the turn, careful to keep from clipping her cargo’s face on the stonework.

Midnight steered her left, then left again, then they were flying down a long, curving corridor that stretched off into the darkness. Just how big was this city—and how far until they reached this Sanctum at the center? She’d found a rhythm, but Rose knew she couldn’t keep up her pace forever, and she had no idea whether they’d reach the safety of the temple before then. Of course, she didn’t know whether the temple was safe at all, but she didn’t have time to dwell on that.

Rose leapt over a puddle but messed up her landing, slipping on some pebbles. Midnight pitched off of her back and for a terrifying moment Rose thought she’d dropped her cargo, but Midnight was reaching around and rebalancing, facing backwards. Her hindlegs bobbed in the edges of Rose’s view. The Unicorn yelled something hostile and after a short delay brilliant reflections bounced off the walls around her, followed quickly by the peace-shattering explosion of a snapstone.

“Got it!” Midnight whooped.

Rose was preoccupied with the blockade in their path. “Two more ahead!”

“What?!” More awkward shuffling, and then she was fumbling with the snapstones. Rose kept running, filling with dread as she barreled down on two Shadow Ponies. These two were hulking brutes, glaring at her and growling loud enough that she could hear them over her thundering hooves and pounding chest, standing in front of a low wall. Rose was running right into a dead end, and even if Daring showed up at the last minute and cleared the route, that wouldn’t get them over the wall.

“Midnight! Which way?” she yelled.

“That’s not supposed to be there!”

“Not helpful!”

Midnight leaned left and right, trying to get a better view, but Rose could already tell there were no turns ahead.

“Deal with them!” Rose panted.

“I’m trying!” Midnight insisted. “You gotta turn around!”

Maybe some of Daring had finally made it into her thick skull. Rose shook her head. “We ain’t turning our flank to the enemy!” She leaned low and put her weight in her hooves, practically flying at the Shadows. They were so close she could damned near touch them. They howled. She yelled back. One leapt at her, hooves and fangs outstretched. Rose immediately regretted her decision and prepared for impact. The Shadow Pony exploded into a thousand smoldering chunks. Midnight whooped. The other was blocking their path. No time to throw another snapstone. Leap of faith!

Rose kicked off, and the Shadow Pony had the good grace to step into the perfect position. Rose landed on its back and jumped again, sending the Shadow Pony staggering and herself and her cargo flying over the low wall.

She landed with a skid but kept her momentum. Ahead the route turned sharply. Rose tried to turn in time but skidded sideways into the wall. Midnight cried out in pain, nearly tumbling off.

“Hang on!” Rose called. She could see motion high above, just darker shapes in front of the dark sky. “Take ’em out!” she hollered at Midnight.

“I can’t navigate and throw at the same time!”

“Yer a Unicorn! Figure it out!” She looked ahead. The route rose and fell gently, and curved a little, but she could see a straight line for a fair distance. “Focus on the Shadow Ponies!”

Midnight climbed over her, nearly knocking Rose over as she shifted her weight around; then she was saddled on Rose’s back. One hoof rested on the back of her head for balance. Rose tried to run as smoothly as she could, but it wasn’t easy with the wide, sloping stonework and occasional piles of debris blocking their way.

Another few meters and another detonated Shadow Pony, then Midnight guided her through a series of tight turns through back alleys.

“Ok, tough part coming up here,” Midnight said.

“What? Where?”

“Up there!” She leaned forward enough for Rose to see and pointed. Ahead on the right, fading into view in the warm orange lantern light, was a mostly intact staircase that lead to the roof of one of the buildings. “There’s a wall around this whole district.”

“Yer joking,” Rose muttered.

“I’m told I don’t have a sense of humor.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “What do Ah do when we’re up there? Half these buildings ain’t got roofs left!”

“That’s the tough part.”

Rose seriously considered leaving Midnight as a distraction, but leaned and angled herself towards the stairs all the same.

Daring tucked her wings to her side and dropped like a stone, only just avoiding a pair of Shadow Pegasi intent on tearing her to shreds, but that let the others still on her tail catch up slightly. All they had to do was aim for her, and any turns she made gave them a chance to catch up.

She flared her wings and shot forward, turning her downwards tumble into forward momentum that skimmed the road and sent debris scattering in her wake. A shriek of agony told her one of her pursuers hadn’t pulled up in time. She grinned, but it was short lived: soon she was panting and straining to regain altitude. She’d been in enough aerial combat to know that if her enemies were above her, she was a goner.

The ceiling swam out of the distance, only barely visible from the faint light towards the center of the city and a pale blue phosphorescence. She banked and angled herself back towards Rose and Midnight Oil, scanning the streets below for their lantern light—there! Their lantern light bounced up and down, heading towards the murky glow farther in.

She caught motion in the corner of her eye and yanked herself sideways, barely avoiding the razor-sharp fangs of a Shadow Pegasus. She turned and swung, her hoof clipping its head and sending it tumbling back, howling. She dug through her bag to find a snapstone, wincing when she felt only a small hoofful.

“Ack!” she yelped, ducking to avoid another Shadow Pony, and flew down and below, trying to count the shapes dancing in the air between her and her companions. Far too many. They weren’t mindless beasts, then: somehow they knew to keep between her and the center of the dead city, while others chased her in circles, hoping to tire her out. She wiped sweat from her brow, spat out a mouthful of saliva and flew towards Rose and Midnight.

A Shadow Pegasi swooped down in front of her. Daring hurled a snapstone at its face, closing her eyes and trusting that it would find its mark. The brilliant flash visible through her clenched eyelids was a welcome relief, and when she opened her eyes she was racing through a cloud of burning cinders. She whooped then looked to the roads below.

She could see the lantern bouncing around, moving very fast, jumping from roof to roof. Either they’d gotten lost or they were taking a shortcut—Daring tried not to think about how narrow some of those roofs were. Dark shapes flitted around them, easily matching their speed and handling the narrow corridors, tall walls, and crumbling buildings far more easily they they were. Daring had finally caught up to them, but she was still too high to help them—if she dropped snapstones from this height they were just as likely to hit Rose or Midnight as they were to hit a Shadow Pony.

Another Shadow Pegasus flew at her. Daring reached into her bag of snapstones, then tilted sideways and slipped downwards, losing altitude without having to fold her wings and lose control. The Shadow Pegasus tried to catch her, but missed. Its wing slid over Daring’s, freezing feathers trailing over hers. The cold shot through her nerves like a shock of electricity and she staggered for a moment, recovering just in time to fly right at another Shadow Pegasi. She yelped and tried to dodge but slammed shoulder-first into the silhouette.

It shrieked and elbowed Daring square in the jaw. Dazed, Daring reached around and tried to grab the Shadow Pegasus, but it twisted and turned, eluding her grasp. She reached for her bag, finally knocking the shadow’s foreleg aside and tearing out a snapstone. The Shadow Pegasus slashed at her side. She caught its shoulder with her free hoof and turned it face-to-face.

It hollered in her face. She shoved her snapstone in its mouth and punched its jaw shut.

It’s purple eyes bulged outward, and it choked for a second before bursting into embers around her. Daring quickly righted herself and pulled up.

She checked around her. None of the Shadow Pegasi were near enough to catch her for the moment. She sighed and reached for her bag of snapstones.

“Crap!”

Shock shot through her as her hoof closed on empty air. She’d dropped the bag during her struggle. No! Oh, fuck!

She peered towards the ground. There! Something small fluttered below her, visible against the dimly reflected lantern light. She folded her wings, raced towards it, and snatched it from the air, but it was already empty. She’d had at least half a dozen snapstones left.

And she was almost directly overtop Rose and Midnight.

“Look out!” she yelled, well aware that they couldn’t hear her. She winced and closed her eyes just in time to keep from being blinded, hearing successive blasts several seconds later.

After the snapping sounds had stopped she opened one eye and peeked. There! Their lantern flew from ground zero, landing in a cluster of buildings; after a few moments the light blinked out.

“Shit!” Either Rose was dead—or Daring was.

Daring looked around. The Shadow Ponies on the ground were converging on the blast site on the roof, while the Shadow Pegasi had all taken to the air and were between her and the center of the city. She had no more snapstones to fend off her pursuers and couldn’t even see Rose anymore.

Only one place the Shadow Ponies had left clear, in their haste to catch her and Rose. She gulped, but she knew she had no choice.

I’m dead either way. She pressed her helmet tight to her head and dove for the streets.

Rose was close enough now to see their destination. A large stone tower loomed out of the distance, well lit at the bottom by rows and rows of firepits and fading into darkness high above, so far above that Rose couldn’t see where it ended, or if it did before it hit the ceiling. There were no windows that she could see, and while it had to have a front door of some sort, she couldn’t see one of those either. Hopefully it was just on the far side.

Rose leapt over a small opening and winced as the roof struggled to survive her impact. She could feel the stones knocking loose, could feel the wobble in the structures as she ran over them.

“We’ve got company,” Midnight said, gesturing ahead. A small group of Shadow Ponies had scaled the walls and were rushing towards them, leaping over the alleys as easily as Rose might avoid a small rock. Midnight threw a snapstone at them, but the Shadow Ponies danced around it. Even illuminated by the snapstone’s bright white burst, they didn’t get any brighter than solid black.

“Where the hay is Daring?!” Rose growled.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen her in a while,” Midnight said.

Rose tried to ignore the dread filling her gut. She veered away from the tower and aimed for the closest next roof. She leapt over the alleyway, landing awkwardly and scrambling to keep her balance. “Find me a way down!” she cried.

“I’m trying!” Midnight said, a little hysteria in her voice. She shifted her weight left and right, craning her neck for a better view.

“There! To the right!”

Rose glanced. A wall three or four buildings away had collapsed, leaving a ramp of debris in its place. Rose scanned the rooftops for a path that didn’t require a set of wings and angled herself towards the next roof.

“Rose!” Midnight shouted, right next to her ear. “Incoming!”

Rose looked. A cloud of shadows only distinguishable by their glowing purple eyes and their constant screeches was climbing up the walls as she ran past. Ahead Shadow Ponies were already scrambling over the edge and hurrying towards them.

“Midnight!” she yelled, unable to mask the fear in her voice. “Do something!”

“I’ve don’t have enough to take them all out!” Midnight yelled.

They were closing, fast. Every rational thought she had urged her to turn around and run the other way, and try to find another way down. She whipped her head back and forth, searching for a way around, but she couldn’t see anything in the dim lantern light.

Rose turned back to the wall of cold, vicious monsters approaching them. “Just aim for the one in the middle. Don’t throw until it’s right on top of us!”

“What?!”

Rose grimaced. Even she knew it wasn’t going to work. “Just do it!”

Midnight wouldn’t have to wait long. Rose could already make out the leader, only a shade darker than the rest of the mass of black smoke barrelling down on them.

Rose ducked her head and leapt the last gap. “Now!” she cried, shutting her eyes tight.

The world around her bloomed white, brighter than a flashbulb, visible through her eyelids like they weren’t even there. Over and over the snapstone exploded, hammering her ear drums and bathing her in heat. She yelled, barely able to hear herself over the shrieking Shadow Ponies.

Then the carnage stopped. Rose opened her eyes and tried to blink away the afterimages, realizing at the last moment that her hooves still had nothing beneath them and that she and the angled roof were still on a collision course.

“Ahhh!” Rose yelled.

“Ahhh!” Midnight yelled, when she noticed their destination.

They hit the roof and immediately Rose was sliding more than running down the ramp on the other side. Midnight Oil yelped and bounced, and Rose thought she might finally have lost her balance and toppled off, but she landed painfully on her back, barely holding on. Rocks and rubble spilled over and collapsed behind them. Rose leapt the last meter and landed in an open square.

The debris clattered to a stop. Their lantern rolled in a lazy circle, sending shadows across the walls and ringing loudly against the stone. She and Midnight were ringing loudly. Everything was ringing loudly.

“Which way?” Rose panted, head whipping left and right. There were no Shadow Ponies that she could see, but there was also no obvious route out. Who builds an open area between houses and closes it off?! “Midnight! Which way?!”

Midnight groaned and slumped sideways over Rose’s back. Rose bit back a swear and tried to take stock. They were safe, for the moment. She wasn’t about to die a painful death. So far, so good. They were enclosed in a small space with only windows for visibility. Less good.

She backed into a corner and collapsed to the ground, letting Midnight slide down from her back. Her heart was pounding, strong enough that she could feel her body shake with each beat. Her lungs burned. Her muscles burned. She felt like she was going to be sick. She wanted to close her eyes and sleep where she lie; or, better yet, collapse onto a soft pile of hay and lose a couple days to a dreamless coma. Even the cold, hard stone below felt like an inviting bed.

Midnight groaned. “Wuz goin’ on?” She wasn’t ringing as loudly now.

“Shhh!” Rose hissed, eyeing the roofs around her. She and Midnight wouldn’t stay hidden for long.

“They can’t hear—”

“But Ah need to hear them!” She peered into the darkness inside the buildings around her, trying to spot any motion and hoping to see that reassuring blur of rainbow.

Midnight shook her head and shifted her balance.

“It won’t take long for them to find us,” Midnight said. “Pass me the lantern.”

Rose stretched and reached for the lantern, only just able it reach it without getting up.

“Okay. Just . . . just keep quiet, and don’t panic,” Midnight said slowly, before extinguishing the lantern and plunging them into almost total darkness.

“Shit! Shit!” Daring Do panicked, flaring her wings wide and slowing to a stop to avoid splattering herself across a wall that had appeared out of the darkness. Her decision to try to navigate the streets at full speed was a mistake. She threw herself sideways and pumped her wings hard, keeping a careful watch over her shoulder at the swirling mass of shadows behind her. She could no longer tell them apart; only their glowing purple eyes were distinguishable. On the plus side, the Shadow Pegasi were having trouble seeing her, too.

“Why are you chasing me?!” she asked through gritted teeth. “I’m not glowing! Go munch on a torch or jump in a fire or something!”

All she got back were screeches and that awful white noise that was filling the air.

The street straightened out. Daring grinned and poured on the speed, rocketing through the narrow corridor. Buildings flashed past her, their edges highlighted in the glow and recklessly close. The sound of air rushing past her ears was a welcome replacement for the constant animal wails, even as the air pressure ahead of her made it hard to breathe.

Beat by beat her cares melted away. She was being hunted, and knew the Shadow Ponies would devour her if they got the chance; she was lost, deep underground, searching for some ancient, dangerously powerful relic; and her friend was missing, more than likely needing rescue; but she didn’t care. She was flying, flying faster than was safe through narrow corridors, and it was wonderful, and for a few short moments that was all that mattered.

Ahead the road split in a T. She angled upwards to peek over the building but the moment her head poked up a chorus of screeches pounded into her. She guessed the sky was a little brighter to her right, and took a hard turn in that direction, banking almost completely sideways to make the turn.

“Shit!”

Blocking the road ahead was a Shadow Pony, a massive thoroughbred stallion if she had to guess, easily twice her size. It reared for her just as she skimmed over it, and reached around her ankle. Daring yelled and struggled to keep from stalling and slamming into the ground, while the Shadow Pony hung on and reached for her other ankle. Daring twisted around and kicked at the Shadow Pony, but it lunged for her, sending them both tumbling. Daring was quickly back on her hooves. The thing loomed over her, blocking her way. Daring didn’t believe for one second that she could beat it one-on-one, and ran back the way she came, passing the narrow street she’d arrived by on her left.

The Shadow Pony thundered behind her, easily keeping up. The road cornered and zig-zagged too often for Daring to get any real speed. The Shadow Pony’s hoofsteps went silent, and Daring leapt sideways into the wall just as it crashed into the ground where she’d stood. It howled angrily, right behind her ears, and Daring could feel the chill in its breath. She was up and running before it could swipe at her.

The building in front of her had an open window, through which Daring could see another on the other side. She angled towards the window and jumped through it, back hooves clipping the edge. She flared her wings, just for a moment, just enough to keep her going level, then crouched tight and cannonballed through the second window. Her hooves met the stonework and she was running. No way that monster could fit through those tiny windows.

She hazarded a look over her shoulder. The Shadow Pony howled. Daring gave a small grin before the wall split apart in an explosion of rubble and dust. The rest of the building quickly collapsed and the Shadow Pony burst from the debris and cloud of smoke, roaring so loudly Daring was sure it would knock down more buildings.

“Oh, come on!” Daring yelled. She jumped into the air and flapped hard, taking her just out of reach of the stallion. All around her Shadow Pegasi were closing in, apparently willing to just collide with her and crash into the ground. She turned left and right, desperately looking for a clear path.

The Sanctum was close, towering out of the surrounding labyrinth and glowing golden from the many torches lit around it. On either side the maze twisted and cornered in a mess even she couldn’t follow. One path led straight down the middle, but it was extremely narrow.

The Shadow Pegasi were almost on top of her. Knowing full well that even one mid-air collision meant serious injury and likely an untimely death, she climbed as high as she dared then closed her wings and dropped like a stone towards the road, trailing a flight of Shadow Pegasi.

Just outside the open window was the Sanctum.

The courtyard surrounding it was bare except for several statues and low walls, most of which had crumbled into rubble. Water dripped down from the ceiling, too far above to see, and the stone paving sparkled in little pools of stagnant water. Several torches lit the area, pressing the darkness back up against the buildings surrounding the courtyard, but there were many more torches that were dead. Dark silhouettes flitted across the ground, accompanied by their awful screeches and the constant static that had almost become part of the background.

Rose crouched low beside the window, letting Midnight slide off her back into a sitting position. With the light from the courtyard they hadn’t needed their lantern to see, despite the small scrapes and tumbles Rose had endured; and without their lantern light they’d been able to sneak their way to the center of the city. Now all that lay between their little hideout and the supposed safety of the Sanctum was the courtyard.

“ . . . which is infested with Shadow Ponies,” Midnight muttered, rubbing her left ankle.

Rose peeked up and over the edge. “Ah can’t see Daring,” she whispered. “She should’ve been here by now.”

“She’s probably taking her time, just like we did,” Midnight said. “She’s trying to stay hidden, so she’s sneaking her way over here.”

Rose twisted and tried to get a better view without exposing herself. Her muscles burned, her lungs had given up complaining, and she was thirsty and hungry, but what was worse was the tightness in her chest which had started growing when Daring had stopped dropping snapstones around them.

“Daring doesn’t know what sneaking means,” Rose said. “What do we do if she’s injured somewhere? How in Equestria are we s’posed to find her?” She listened, straining to hear the raspy voice that cracked more often than Rose’d expected, but all she heard was the clattering of Shadow Pony hooves, the thrum of Shadow Pegasi wings.

“Calm down. It’s gonna be okay.”

Rose pressed her hooves to her forehead and groaned. “Land’s sakes, Daring, why can’t you just stick to the plan?”

“Stop freaking out!” Midnight hissed. “Getting upset won’t fix anything!”

Rose was about to snap back when a Shadow Pony howled nearby. She pressed her hat to her head and lay as low as she could, not daring to breathe, sure they were about to be attacked, but the beast never came; instead there were more cries and screeches, and the sounds of flesh hitting flesh, and of rabid snarling.

Rose carefully peeked over the edge. A group of Shadow Ponies were fighting each other around a still-lit torch. Rose couldn’t follow the motion, but she could see their silhouettes getting tossed aside or jumping atop one another, a flurry of black smoke and purple eyes. One of the Shadow Ponies knocked over the torch, and its flame sizzled into a small pool of water, going out immediately. The other Shadow Ponies howled and jumped on the first, tearing it to pieces. The static in the air flared, and clamping her hooves over her ears did nothing to relieve it.

“Sweet Celestia!” she muttered, not wanting to watch but unable to look away. The Shadow Ponies were growing more restless, and with every torch that went out the tension in the courtyard grew. “Why are they fighting each other?!” she asked.

“They must still be agitated from when Cairo went through here.” Midnight gave a weak chuckle. “Guess we’re going in the right direction.”

Rose tore her gaze from the violence and tried to focus, but now all she could see was Daring getting herself buried under those monsters.

Midnight shook her shoulder. “C’mon! We’ve gotta go while they’re distracted!” Midnight hissed.

“Huh? Go where?” Rose asked. The Shadow Ponies had scattered, while the ruined silhouette wisped into the air.

“To the Sanctum. It’s not safe here!” Midnight insisted. “We can wait for Daring there.”

“We don’t know what’s inside there! We might not be able to wait for Daring! We ain’t movin’ until Daring gets here.” She snorted. “Ah wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

“And you think she’d be okay with you getting yourself killed?!” Midnight limped over and sat in front of Rose. “Wouldn’t you rather have that heavy door open and ready for her?”

Midnight made a good point, Rose figured, but that still meant crossing the courtyard full of vicious, angry Shadow Ponies. She could still hear fighting through their window. “How are we s’posed to get over there, then, without getting torn apart?”

“We’ll take it slowly. There’s plenty of cover.” Midnight pulled herself up to the window and looked over the edge. “They’ve knocked out enough torches that we can sneak almost the whole way there. If we take it slow, pay attention, and keep quiet, we should be able to make it. Then we hide near the door—there’s some rubble we can hide behind—and wait.”

Rose felt like laughing. “There ain’t no way we’re making it across that courtyard without bein’ seen. It’s suicide!”

“You got a better idea?”

She didn’t. Midnight crawled atop her back, minding the saddlebags, and together they slunk to the door.

“Okay. There’s a dark patch right over there,” Midnight said, pointing to a low wall maybe twenty meters away. “We’ll go there first.”

“Got it. Ya got any more snapstones?”

“Two.” Midnight held a stone in front of Rose. “You want one of them? In case we get separated?”

Rose really didn’t like the idea that they might get separated, but said, “Sure. Put it in my hat.”

Midnight slid the the stone under the brim of Rose’s hat then said, “Just try not to headbutt anything. Ready?”

“Ready.”

From her view around the doorframe Rose could see a pair of Shadow Ponies rushing across the courtyard, joining a group that was fighting in the center, while others skulked around in the distance.

Midnight said, “On three, hurry out as softly as you can run and park yourself in the shadows. On three,” she said quickly, cutting off Rose, “not after. Ready?”

Rose gulped and nodded.

“One.”

Really, the way was clear. They weren’t gonna be seen. They could do this.

“Two.”

The Shadow Ponies waited outside, ready to strike the moment Rose launched herself from their hideout. They were so dead.

“Wait!”

Rose nearly tripped over her forehooves. “What now?!” she hissed.

“Listen!”

Rose listened. At the edge of her hearing, very faint and distant, she could hear yelling. Not so faint. Getting closer. Desperate, continuous yelling—

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

“Daring!” Rose cried.

“Openthedooropenthedooropenthedoorwhyisn’tthedooropenyet?!”

A rainbow blur shot past, scattering dust in its wake, followed by a stampede of Shadow Ponies that just kept going.

Midnight smacked Rose on the head. “Go!”

She launched herself from the doorway into the courtyard, powered by a rush of energy that had come out of nowhere. The courtyard was mostly clear nearby, but there was torchlight shining right on her and there was no way they’d remain unseen. Already, fights were breaking up with the arrival of Daring Do, and some would inevitably see Rose and Midnight.

“The door’s around the right! That way!” Midnight hissed, pointing a little to the side. Rose tilted and turned to match, trying to watch for debris or anything else in her path, but she wasn’t really paying attention to the ground. Instead she watched Daring’s rainbow dash through the sky, Daring herself not bright enough to see.

It curved through a gentle, wide turn, keeping up a reckless speed that weaved dangerously close to several of the taller buildings around the edge of the courtyard. It screeched to a stop and plummeted to the ground before pulling up again, trailing Shadow Pegasi that weren’t as maneuverable—Rose watched several crash to the ground, exploding in wisps of darkness. It searched for a landing spot, but no matter where the rainbow went shadows were close behind.

Rose and Midnight sprinted across the courtyard, Rose’s hooves clattering loudly on the stonework and kicking up pebbles and stones behind her. Several Shadow Ponies turned and howled after them. Rose steered around the lit torches, giving the distracted groups a wide berth, and dodged her way around two Shadow Ponies intent on tearing off each other’s limbs.

An approaching whirlwind from the left caught her attention. Rose looked and watched Daring race overhead, low enough to hear her complain, “Hurry up!” Then she was gone, her trail rapidly consumed by a fluttering, shrieking cloud of Shadow Pegasi. The wind from their wingbeats was almost deafening.

Rose snorted. “Can’t you just open it yerself?!” she grumbled, well aware that Daring couldn’t hear her.

Midnight pointed to the side and yelled, “Look out!” Trailing behind Daring was a small stampede of Shadow Ponies. Rose gulped, but forced herself to focus on the road ahead. She already had her own train.

Ahead was the Sanctum, and around the curving wall Rose could just make out a large set of steps hopefully leading to the door. She was almost there!

“They’re gaining on us!” Midnight yelled, bouncing around and trying to keep herself on Rose’s back. Rose risked a glance over her shoulder. Midnight was right: Daring’s stampede had curved to follow her, a swirling black mass of shadow pierced with purple pinpricks. Above, she could see dark shadows streaking across the sky, some definitely aiming right for her. Rose was running as fast as she could, but she’d been running for so long, and her legs were burning. She couldn’t reach the door before they reached her. She needed a distraction.

Looking around, she angled herself towards the nearest torch. The shadows turned to match, steadily closing the gap.

Rose jumped over a low stone wall and slid under an archway. Just ahead was the torch; several shadows stretched out over the floor, greedily sucking down light. Even from here she could see their purple eyes glowing with power. Rose looked behind her, judged her speed, and slowed so that when she approached the torch her stampede was nearly on top of her.

“Hold on!” Rose yelled.

Midnight wrapped all four legs tight around Rose’s barrel. “Ready!”

Rose leapt past the torch, and landed with all her weight loaded into her forelegs. Midnight’s added weight nearly kept her rolling forward. Her hindlegs reared up, and she released the force in her legs like a spring, shattering the stonework supporting the torch. The torch clattered to the floor, flaring bright as its oil splashed across the stone and ignited. As quick as she could Rose raced ahead, and from behind came the satisfying sounds of enraged shadows leaping into being and mindlessly attacking anything that approached—including the stampede. She grinned.

She could see the entrance to the Sanctum. There was a large, heavy wooden door with a gentle flight of stairs carved out of a shiny black rock, approaching fast.

Almost there!

Daring’s trail of Shadow Pegasi were steadily gaining on her. She could feel the tightness in her wings that would lead inevitably to painful muscle cramps, and her wings were sluggish and heavy. She couldn’t turn as quickly, and she wasn’t entirely sure she could keep altitude. She didn’t have long now.

“Daring!” Rose called out. “Door!”

Daring looked, turning in a wide arc to keep the Shadow Pegasi behind her. Her teammates had reached the door. Rose had reared up and was pulling back on the heavy wooden door. A faint purple glow pulsed around the handle as Midnight added her magic. They were doing it! The door was opening, sending a line of fiery orange light onto the courtyard. Rose squeezed herself inside and began shoving. Daring couldn’t hear from this distance but she thought she could see Rose cursing up a storm. The door was ancient and there was no way its hinges worked smoothly.

Daring pointed herself at the door and flapped hard and fast. She could almost feel the heat from the Sanctum.

A Shadow Pegasi caught her, reached around and tried to grab hold. No! Not now! They’re right there!

She kicked and punched and thrashed as violently as she could, trying to pry the Shadow Pegasi loose. A frozen hoof connected and a sharp pain bloomed from her wing. She gasped in shock and kicked with her good leg. The beast screeched—Daring must’ve hit something vital. It swooped away, but Daring had completely stalled, and her wing had cramped painfully. She felt her stomach lurch as her flight became more vertical than horizontal. The ground was rushing up at her. Her flight instincts hollered at her to flare her wings and pull up, while her wings demanded that she fold them tight and nurse them back to health, so instead she tumbled, one wing folded tight and the other straining to twist her back to horizontal.

“No. No! C’mon!” she yelled at her unresponsive wing. Below was a swarming mass of black and purple. Even if Daring survived the landing, she didn’t expect to survive the welcome party. “Oh, Celestia, no! Ahh!”

And Rose is gonna be stuck out here alone. Stupid!

A Shadow Pony leapt over the crowd, arcing low and fast, straight at her. Daring twisted, trying to dodge, but the pony grabbed her around the barrel and pulled her back down to the ground. Desperately she elbowed the Shadow Pony in the side.

“Ow!” the Shadow Pony cried. “Fuck off!”

Rose! Daring gasped with relief. She grabbed around Rose’s neck and tried to hold on as Rose landed on the other side of the crowd, racing for the Sanctum and damned near tearing up the cobblestones below her hooves.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyou—” Daring panted.

“Shut yer mouth and hang on!” Rose yelled.

Daring shut her mouth and hung on. Rose swerved around a low wall and turned into the light from the opened door. Daring could just see Midnight on the inside, straining with her magic to keep it open. There was heat pouring out, probably attracting every Shadow Pony in the city.

The ground shook around them. Daring was amazed that Rose was making such a strong run, until she realized the shaking wasn’t in time with Rose’s hoofbeats. She gulped and turned her head.

Charging at them from behind was the large stallion Shadow Pony. “Rose!” she hollered over the clamor. “The brute behind us is gonna go right through that door!”

“We’ve got it covered!” She tilted her head and pointing toward the Sanctum.

Midnight was standing as best as she could, magic failing to hold back the door, with a snapstone in her hoof. She’d seen the Shadow Pony, and was yelling something Daring couldn’t hear over the thundering hoofsteps behind them. Rose’s surprising speed was fading quickly, and she was panting.

Rose aimed for the side of the stairs, matching the only open part of the door. The stairs were steep but somehow she kept most of their speed going up. When Rose reached the top she kicked up, keeping her upward momentum.

“Midnight! Now!”

Rose soared up and over the landing. Midnight aimed and threw a snapstone right under Rose’s barrel and between her legs. Midnight’s magic blinked out, and the door started groaning shut. Somepony was yelling—Daring was yelling. Midnight and Rose were yelling. The Shadow Pony howled.

They landed, the impact rough enough that Daring was wrenched from Rose and sent tumbling head over hooves. Behind them she heard the door slam shut, followed by a muffled explosion.

Daring rolled to a stop and flopped onto her back. She didn’t care if she was about to be eaten by a Shadow Pony, or torn to bits, or crushed to a pulp. As she lay, sucking down air and trying to not throw up, all she cared about was that it was warm and that there was ground beneath her backside.

She chuckled, which quickly turned into coughing.

“What’s so funny?” Midnight asked.

Daring fought to get her coughing under control and said, “I’ve never been so happy not to have to fly. Whoo!”

Her wings had stopped cramping. She carefully moved her limbs, making sure nothing was broken or missing, then slowly turned onto her gut and folded her wings away. “Blow me, that hurts.”

“Daring Fucking Do!”

Daring whipped around. Rose was standing on shaky legs, scratched and bleeding and covered in sweat and dirt. Her hat was barely attached to her head. She looked furious.

“Uh-oh,” Daring gulped.

“You stupid. Arrogant. Pegasus!” Rose growled, punctuating each word with a menacing stomp that rang through the room. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed!”

“Whoa!” Daring jerked back, landing on her haunches. “What did I do?!” she asked, waving her hooves in front of herself. “I’m sorry I dropped all those snapstones—”

“Midnight and Ah had to wait for you,” Rose snarled, marching towards Daring, “worried you’d gotten lost or hurt or somethin’, all because ya decided to go and show off—”

Daring scrambled backwards out of Rose’s path. “Hey! Whoa! I did not—”

“—how fast and nimble and brave you were, taking on all those Shadow Ponies—”

“I had to dodge those Shadow Pegasi and I still managed to keep an eye on you—”

“—Left me alone in the dark—”

“Are you crying?!”

“Fuck you!” Rose barked, and shoved Daring back.

“Ow! I’m already hurt, don’t oof!”

Rose threw herself at Daring and grabbed around her middle, knocking the wind out of her. Daring tried to wiggle free but Rose had her in a death grip.

“Ah thought you were gonna die,” Rose whispered. “The way you fell like that.”

Daring smiled weakly and patted Rose on the head. Rose squeezed tighter, and started to crush Daring’s lungs. She was trembling, though Daring chose to believe that it was from the adrenaline and that the moisture on her face was sweat.

So tense! Quick, say something sensitive. Witty. Reassuring!

“Gay-yee.”

“Shut up.”

Across the room, Midnight coughed discreetly. Daring sighed.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. Next time, in two weeks: The Tome of Shadows, or Rough Seas.

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 10: The Tome of Shadows

Daring looked around the room, noting several points. First obvious point: aside from the three of them, the chamber was empty. Torches attached to the walls were already lit and, according to Rose and Midnight, had already been lit when they’d arrived—but there was no sign of anypony else having gone through here. Second: there was only the one heavy door to the outside, through which Daring could still hear the enraged howling of Shadow Ponies, though so far nothing had tried to break through. No other way in or out, unless there was a hidden door or secret tunnel. And third: there was no Tome of Shadows.

“Ah thought the Tome would be in here,” Rose said. She was standing to the side, carefully avoiding eye contact with Daring. “Where are we?”

“This is the Sanctum,” Midnight said, sliding herself to a sitting position against one of the walls. “This is where the Priests recorded the ordeals and triumphs of the city.” She waved a hoof at the walls.

Wrapping around the chamber between support columns were carvings that covered the walls from the bare floor to the high, dark ceiling. From the stains and flecks of paint in the corners, Daring guessed that the carvings had once been painted in gorgeous murals; now, without inks or dyes they were visible only from their inset shadows from the torches above. The images themselves were crude, even to somepony as bad at drawing as Daring Do: the ponies were overly simplistic, their proportions were all wrong, and they stood in stiff, unnatural poses. Most art from long gone civilisations looked like this. Unlike more recent art, with its brightly lit illustrations and famous artists, the carvings seemed muted and carelessly made; and time had taken its toll on the artwork as well.

Even so, Daring had to marvel at how the images came to life before her eyes. Any single image looked like a carving from the earliest ponies; but together they told a story. It was that simplicity that drew her in.

Well, maybe. Daring had always been a sucker for a good story, especially if it featured long-gone ponies from a long-gone culture. Or explosions.

Daring followed the carvings, and though she wouldn’t be able to translate the writing until she’d had time to study, she could guess at the pictures. “Their record keeping?” She looked for a starting point, and tried to ignore the static at the edge of her hearing. “It just circles around the chamber. Where’s the beginning?”

Midnight gestured at one of the carvings. “I know what they mean. Let me show you.”

“How?” Rose asked. “You been here before?”

“No, it’s my job. Cairo hired me to interpret and explain carvings and paintings from this tribe.”

Midnight slid across the roughened floor and made herself comfortable. For a few moments her eyes flicked back and forth across the mural. Her lips danced like she was reading snippets in her head. Then she nodded.

Magic erupted from her horn and the mural glowed briefly. A layer of dust shifted loose and settled below, and the carvings on the mural began to move. For a second, Daring tensed, expecting more Shadow Ponies, but the carvings stayed carved, and no purple eyes appeared.

Midnight began her tale.

The priests and the ponies they served learned to fear the shadows, even as they sought to survive in the caverns. Driven underground by the hostility of the jungle, or perhaps lured by the promise of abundance, they were hounded, consumed, and nearly driven to madness.

So they defended themselves from the shadows, and learned how to live underground. Their warriors built traps to keep other ponies out, and their farmers cultivated the ground and brought enough harvest to keep them fed. Brave adventurers set out into the wilderness above to forage and scavenge for whatever the caves couldn’t provide, always back inside by nightfall. And their priests kept the fires burning and the lights glowing.

For a time, the ponies didn’t just survive; they thrived. Built at the intersection of ancient leylines, the bedrock provided enough raw magic to keep their city alive, and from their desperation they grew hard and practical. When bandits tried to loot their caves they trapped the intruders and extinguished the lights. When the shadows pushed inside, the ponies fought like savages and hailed their snapstones at the beasts. And over the years the priests learned to control the shadows, briefly, in their times of need.

The nights, oddly, were the safest: without the sun overhead the shadows were free to roam the jungle, but during the day the shadows were forced back underground and up against the defenses of the city. Winter above meant peace below, while summer and its long days brought the city to its knees. During the longest days the inhabitants fled to their fortress, nearly blind with light, and turned to the priests for guidance.

Their artifact, the Tome of Shadows, rich with the very energies that threatened them from the outside, had the power to control and banish the shadow beasts, not just from the city but from the underground and the caves, out into the burning sun. On the longest day, the priests performed a sacrificial ritual to harness the Shadow Magic and rid their city of the shadowed menace for another year.

Rose digested Midnight’s story, even as the carvings froze in place.

“They sacrificed a pony to save the city?” Rose asked, not entirely surprised.

Midnight nodded, pointing to the relevant section of the wall. “If these carvings are accurate, then outside the city and down much deeper is the ritual chamber, where the leylines are the strongest, connecting almost directly to the Void. A brave volunteer would accompany the priests down an endless staircase and through heavy stone doors; just before the city could pass into despair the Shadow Ponies would flee the city, and the priests would emerge solemn but victorious.”

Rose ducked her head, unsure how she felt about that.

“So . . . what happened to them?” Daring asked.

“Probably the shadows grew too strong and overpowered them,” Rose suggested.

“Did they?” Daring asked. “They lived here long enough to build this whole city. Banishing the shadows was an annual tradition. They clearly had practice surviving down here.”

Midnight shrugged. “It doesn’t say. There’s nothing here about a slow decline, although they might simply have recorded their last days or years somewhere else. It’s likely that their decline—whatever caused it—was very sudden.”

Rose didn’t like the sound of that. “Sudden enough that they didn’t write any of it down? An accident?”

“Or not.” Daring shrugged. “Somepony screwed up, let the power get to his head, and used the Tome in a way that it wasn’t meant to be used.” She looked at Midnight. “What does the Tome do, anyways?”

“The carvings only say that the Tome used magic from the shadows themselves to gain control over them. Somepony could have used it for evil, I guess, in the same way that somepony could use the weather for evil.”

“Cairo,” Rose whispered, then exclaimed, “That’s why he wants the Tome—he’s trying to get control of the Shadow Ponies.” She gasped. “And it’s almost the solstice! The Summer Sun Celebration is only a couple days away!”

Daring and Midnight stared at her, confused.

“What?” she asked. Don’t they understand?

Midnight shook her head. “Cairo’s not like that,” she insisted. “He doesn’t want an army of Shadow Ponies. The Tome is supposed to be the focal piece of somepony’s collection, kept in a glass case with a velvet rope around it.”

Daring nodded. “And he’ll have bragging rights too. ‘Found the Tome right before the Great Daring Do—stole it right out of her saddlebags.’” She smirked. “He wouldn’t have the magic to actually control the Tome, anyways. He always was more of a midboss.”

“Hey!” Midnight growled. “That’s my boss you’re talking about.”

Rose rounded on her. “Yer boss tried to bury us! And have us eaten! And he angered those Shadow Ponies outside—and he left ya in the dark!” She towered over Midnight. “Why are ya defending him?”

“Hey, yeah!” Daring exclaimed. “We gotcha to safety. Time to start talking! Why’d he leave you out there?”

Midnight studied the ground in front of her. “I told him to. I’d injured my leg and if he’d tried to help me—We’d already lost some of our team. I knew he’d get us both killed if he stayed to help. I took most of his snapstones and made him leave me. He said he’d come back when he got the Tome, and we’d both get out of there. Together.”

Daring’s jaw hung open. “And you believed him?!”

Midnight nodded. It was hard to tell but Rose thought she might’ve been smiling slightly.

“Midnight,” Rose said slowly. “Yer boss tried to murder us.” She blinked. “Repeatedly. And he left you here to die.”

“He wouldn’t do that!” she insisted. “Not unless you hurt him first!”

Rose groaned. This is getting us nowhere. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t let him get to the Tome, Midnight. When we find him, we’re gonna stop him. You understand?” she asked slowly.

Midnight scoffed. “I’d rather you left me here. I won’t help you kill him!”

“We’re not gonna kill him!” Rose exclaimed.

“And we’re not leaving you,” Daring insisted. “Not down here. It isn’t safe.”

Rose looked at Daring and raised an eyebrow.

“What?” Daring asked. “After that speech you gave me about leaving her when we found her?” She scoffed. “You’re awful.”

Rose rolled her eyes.

Daring turned to Midnight. “Besides, if you do stay put, how’s Cairo gonna find you? You can’t just light a fire or stand outside and wait for him. He’s gonna waltz right past you, bury himself in that labyrinth looking for you, and neither of you will ever make it out again.”

Midnight pursed her lips. “I won’t help you hurt him,” she insisted.

“We ain’t gonna,” Rose said gently. “And you said he won’t try and hurt us. So nothin’ bad’s gonna happen.”

Midnight clenched her eyes shut and shook her head. “No! He’ll find me. I’m a Unicorn, so when he passes the Sanctum he’ll sense my magic and rescue me and—”

“Oh, come on!” Daring roared. “You’re supposed to be smart! If he’s looking for you he’ll teleport directly into whatever back alley he dumped you in. Does that take him past the Sanctum? Better hope it does. Or would you rather help us find him?”

After a few moments, Midnight nodded. “Fine.”

Rose nodded. “Good choice.” She sauntered up to the wall to start inspecting the carvings more closely, but said over her shoulder, “And Ah don’t even mind that yer gonna try and betray us.”

Midnight didn’t say anything.

“Now what?” Daring asked. “How do we find Cairo?”

Midnight sighed, clearly resigned to helping them for at least a while longer. “He’ll be heading for the ceremonial chamber, where the Tome is stored. That’s where we need to go. There should be directions in here, somewhere.”

“What are we looking for?”

“Some sort of map, I expect.” Midnight pointed at one section of the wall and said, “That’s the scene where the sacrifice is, well, sacrificed. If they left any hints, they would be near there.”

Daring and Rose approached the wall. Now that it wasn’t moving, the linework itself was hard to see, only visible from the shadows cast upon it from the torches around the room. In some places there were hints of the dyes or paints used originally, and Daring could imaging the Sanctum being full of color and life, but most of the wall was plain, and the carvings were the only details available. Still, Daring could make out some of the pictures.

“It just shows a bunch of stairs, followed by a circle with lots of fancy-looking ponies.” She peered closer. “And one in the middle. The ‘volunteer’. But there’s no map.”

“There’s nowhere else to hide a map in here,” Rose insisted. “It’s gotta be hidden in the walls. These carvings—Ah bet there’s tiny parts of maps hidden in it somehow.” Rose leaned close and peered at the carvings.

Daring backed up to give her more room, caught her hoof on the floor, and stumbled.

“Maybe there’s some sorta landmark we can recognize,” Rose said. “Ah mean, Ah don’t really remember any landmarks, but . . . ”

Daring looked at the offending tile. There was nothing visible for her hoof to scuff, just like the walls. But her hoof had caught something. She dragged her hoof slowly across the floor. It wasn’t cracked or broken or poorly cut—the roughness was almost regular. She looked up at the walls. Shadows from the lights above revealed the detailed stories told over its faces—but the floor was equally lit in all directions.

She touched the floor, then the wall.

Definitely carved.

“Midnight! Can you extinguish half the torches? All on that side?”

Midnight shrugged and closed her eyes. Her horn glowed, and bubbles appeared around half of the torches, depriving them of oxygen. The room darkened as their flames fluttered, burned low, and quickly snuffed out.

Daring leapt into the air and, wary of spoiling her good luck, kept her gaze firmly upwards until she’d nearly reached the ceiling. Then with a deep breath she looked at the floor.

“Ha!” Her breath rushed free as a smile broke out over her face. “Found the map!”

Now visible by their inset shadows, the narrow winding lines chiseled into the floor from wall-to-wall detailed the streets and boulevards that made up the labyrinthian city. In the center was the Sanctum, a small circle surrounded by a large flat square. Dotting one slice of the map were intersections and patterns Daring vaguely recognized from her aerial adventure.

Daring floated down, but just before she touched the ground she hesitated. “I mean . . . we have been walking all over it already, right?”

Rose looked at her, then down at her hooves, casually planted over the centuries-old map. Meanwhile, Midnight had planted her rump in place and hadn’t moved much since. All three of them had left muddy hoofprints across it. Daring sighed and landed on the map.

“Not bad, Daring.” Rose walked up to the center, then followed a set of roads outwards. “That’s where Midnight and Ah came in from. Ah dunno what path you took, Daring.”

Daring pointed. “I was a little to the left of you, I think, which puts me there—Yeah.”

Rose slowly walked backwards, retracing her run through the city. “Midnight and Ah were on the roof here and here,” she said.

“And that’s where—” Daring paused, and managed the decency to at least appear apologetic, though she couldn’t quite hold back a small smile of pride. “That’s where I dropped, like, half a dozen snapstones on you.”

“That was you?” Rose asked. “Shit, mah ears are still ringin’ from that.”

Together Daring and Rose traced their path all the way to the entrance, near the bridge. The map ended there flush against a wall.

“Okay,” Daring said, smiling. “We got the map. Where’s the ceremonial chamber?” she asked, looking at Midnight.

Midnight shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“You—you don’t know?” Daring sputtered. “What about, ‘It’s my job to interpret and explain carvings and maps’ or whatever?”

“I can tell what’s going on in those carvings, and I can translate most of their writing. But there’s nothing on this map that says, ‘Sacrifice foolish ponies here.’”

“Well, what is there, then?”

“Beside the map and the carvings, nothing.”

Daring tapped her hoof, then dragged it along a boulevard. “Let’s start with the carvings. What are some of the important ones?”

Rose pointed at the far end. “That’s where they sacrificed their annual volunteer.”

Midnight pointed about a third of the way around. “That’s a scene about farmers and daily life.”

Remembering where Midnight had pointed as she told her story, Daring said, “That’s where they caught and trapped invaders.”

Rose turned around and pointed at the wall right behind her. “And this is where the ponies entered the city for the first time.”

“Hmm . . . ” Daring stroked her chin. “You said farmers? Like, their fields?” She turned to Rose. “Didn’t you say you thought there was soil nearby?”

“Well . . . like, at one point. Ah doubt there’s much soil now. But, yeah. Farmlands.”

“There,” Midnight pointed at the floor. Long sections of the floor had been carved smooth and flat, without any roads crisscrossing them. “Those could be fields.”

Daring stepped forward and stood on the center, where the Sanctum had been carved in. She could imagine a very tiny version of herself right under her hooves. Turning in place, she looked at the carvings of farmers. “It almost lines up. Some of the farms are between the sanctum and their carving on the wall.”

Midnight nodded. “That makes sense.” She paused, looking along the floor, and pointed at a spot below the wall. “Then that would be where they imprisoned the intruders—oh. Of course! There’s a walkway that leads right up to the edge.”

Rose nodded, and pointed over her shoulder. “Then this is where we—and the original settlers—entered the city for the first time, which means—”

“That the sacrificial chamber is in the same direction as its carving, relative to the Sanctum,” Daring said, pointing clear across the room at the ominous image.

She and Rose approached the wall. “There’s a path that leads up to the carving, but Ah don’t see no chamber.”

“You wouldn’t. The chamber itself would be buried deep below the city.”

“And it’s clear on the other side,” Daring said, slumping. “We’ve still gotta cross, like, half the city.”

“The quickest way is almost a straight line,” Midnight pointed out. “Once we cross the fields, there’s a little more city, then—well, then the ceremonial chamber.”

“So, what—we just walk?” Rose asked. “No secret passageway? Rail line?”

“Oh. Oh! Maybe an underground sewer system!” Daring suggested.

Rose’s face scrunched up in disgust.

Midnight shrugged. “We could’ve walked here if you hadn’t angered all those Shadow Ponies first.”

“We angered them by having a lantern!” Rose said.

“By having a lit lantern,” Daring corrected her, walking towards the entrance.

“Are you saying we walk there in the dark?”

“There’s some light outside. The ceiling’s got a bit of a blueish glow, I think.”

Midnight nodded. “Fungal growth. And after I turned off the lantern we snuck through the city just fine.”

Rose’s jaw hung open like a mailbox. “Yer serious.”

Daring shrugged. “Unless you wanna just stay in here . . . ” She reached for the door.

“Whoa, now, don’t be too hasty,” Rose said. “You open that door and we’re gonna get a flock of Shadow Ponies rushin’ to get in here.”

Daring paused, hoof on the door, and said, “Well, we can’t just stay here forever.”

Midnight asked, “What about dousing the lights first?”

“What?!” Rose shook her head. “Oh, no. No. We are not turning out the lights. We’ll just have to find another way—”

Once her eyes had adjusted to the extreme lack of light, and once she’d calmed down somewhat, Rose shoved open the door and carefully peeked around the corner. The lights in the courtyard had mostly been extinguished, save for one or two off in the distance around which several large Shadow Ponies prowled, keeping the light and heat for themselves. That light stretched thin and weak across the courtyard, until Rose couldn’t separate buildings from ground. The resulting darkness flattened her visibility, so it was hard to tell what was close and what was far. All she could see past the courtyard was a general outline of buildings and streets quickly fading to a dull black.

Along the walls, faintly glittering in the light from the ceiling were dozens of specks of purple stained glass. From her elevated position Rose could see many more in the distance. Closer to the entrance a hoofful of Shadow Ponies ambled aimlessly, howling in hunger and anger and only visible by their glowing eyes.

Rose froze. This close she could hear them breathe, could nearly reach out and touch one. The urge to do so was surprising—a morbid curiosity. She gulped, then quietly stepped outside into the landing. None of them seemed to notice.

Still unconvinced that they couldn’t hear her, she waved Daring and Midnight forward. She helped slide Midnight through the door then slowly eased it shut. At Rose’s request they worked in silence which, combined with the darkness, meant it took several minutes to get Midnight properly settled on Rose’s back and for them to descend into the courtyard.

Rose and Daring hurried into the surrounding city, following Midnight’s whispered directions. Slowly the light from the courtyard disappeared. Daring hung low to the ground, keeping watch. Howls and low whines pierced the quiet, leaving Rose tense and exhausted by the time they could hear the rush of water.

They stepped out onto a boardwalk beside the river. Here the stonework was slick, reflecting sharp highlights from the faint light that still reached them. The waterline was less than a half meter below the boardwalk, and moving slowly away from the Sanctum.

Rose stopped to rest, and tried to relax her tense muscles.

“Keep the river on our left, and follow the current,” Midnight instructed. “About a kilometer ahead we should see farmland.”

Rose held back an impressed whistle as they walked. “Farming,” she muttered, bewildered. “Down here.”

“They scavenged and foraged during the day, of course, but they couldn’t keep crops safe on the surface. Ironically, there isn’t as much arable land up above as there is down here. And it’s not like they farmed in the dark.”

“Ah don’t doubt that they managed,” Rose said, “but’cha can’t grow just any plant in never-ending daylight. Their diet woulda been very restricted.” She thought back to her farming heritage. “Flowers and small vegetables, sure. Cukes and corn don’t really care, just so long as it’s warm. No tomatoes, though, and most seedlings only germinate at night. And ignoring the constant light, without seasons and weather, plants grow crazy. When we plant apple trees, our saplings go in the ice box for weeks beforehoof, just to convince ’em it’s Spring when they come out again.”

Midnight shrugged. “It’s certainly not ideal.”

Rose shook her head. “It’s less than ‘not ideal’.” She looked over her shoulder, though in the darkness she couldn’t really tell Midnight from the blackness behind her. “It plain ain’t worth the hassle.”

“Unless there’s some other reason they chose to live underground,” Midnight muttered.

Daring flapped beside them. “Yeah? Like what?” she asked.

Midnight was silent for a few moments, before admitting, “I don’t know. There are no accounts of treasure ever being brought up to the surface, nor any mention of rare magic or celestial events down here, even if it is closer to the Void. But you’re right,” she said quickly. “It wouldn’t normally be worth the hassle.”

They circled around a tower that stretched up out of sight, and rejoined the river. It looked deeper, the waterline closer to the boardwalk than before; and the current had slowed somewhat. “We’re getting close,” Midnight said.

“Aaaaaand we’re being followed,” Daring said.

Rose stopped and pressed herself against a wall, nearly knocking Midnight from her back. How was she supposed to see anything in this darkness?

There!

A pair of purple eyes blinked back at the them from across the water. Rose froze, unsure if the Shadow Pony had seen them—course it has!—but as soon as she gathered the nerve to get a closer look, the eyes winked out of sight.

“Why ain’t it attackin’ us?” Rose whispered, trying to calm her breathing.

“Unless you anger it, or feed it light, it probably doesn’t care about you,” Midnight said.

“Tell that to the Shadow Pegasi. I couldn’t fly thirty meters without having one of them throw itself at me.”

Rose grunted. “Maybe they were groupies,” she said.

“Hey!”

“You were incinerating them,” Midnight reminded Daring. “C’mon. Worry about them if they get in our way.”

Daring hovered just ahead of Rose and Midnight, fighting the urge to rush ahead and explore. She could feel the purple eyes watching her from very close, and wondered just what would trigger those same howls again. Static made it hard to hear Rose’s hoofsteps or the river they were supposed to be following. Rose had been especially silent, too, and Daring had to keep turning around to check that she and Midnight were still following her.

The darkness she could handle, but she swore she was hearing things. She understood Rose’s fear of being noticed, but she needed some sort of conversation.

“Hey, Rose—”

There was a splashing noise, then Rose shrieked. Daring whirled around, feeling something heavy drop in her gut. Could Shadow Ponies swim? Nothing in the river, but it was so dark. More splashing, then Rose started swearing. Daring scanned the buildings around them for purple glowing eyes, but there was nopony. No howls of anger, except for Rose’s muttered curses.

She flapped over and descended to land. “What’s up—Ahh!”Daring yelped, leaping back into the air. “Sweet fucking Celestia, that’s cold!”

The boardwalk had dropped enough that the frigid water was washing up over the edge. A barely-visible pool of water blocked their way, and Daring couldn’t tell how deep it got or how far the flooding continued.

“Ah’m guessing the waterline ain’t supposed to be this high?” Rose asked, laughing nervously, trying to hide her foalish shriek.

Midnight shook her head. “It’s supposed to flow slightly downhill, towards the fields, and the boardwalk follows that same slope.”

Daring grabbed a stone from the nearby broken wall and threw it ahead. After a few moments they heard a quiet splash.

“We are still going the right direction, right?” Daring asked.

Midnight pointed beside them. “There’s the edge of the boardwalk. You can see stone posts along its edge. We’re still following the river. I think this is just a low point in the walkway—maybe there’s a blockage or something ahead. This place is falling apart.” She looked over her shoulder. “We simply have to find a way around.”

Rose dipped her hoof in the water, hissed, then stepped forward. “Let’s just—Ooh, damn, that’s still cold!—Let’s just see how far it goes. Might not be that bad.”

She walked forward, and even in the darkness with static occasionally rumbling in her ears Daring could see and hear Rose wincing. At least the heat-hungry Shadow Ponies weren’t as likely to follow them now. Daring flew ahead and continued navigating, now keeping an eye on the fetlock-deep walkway as well as their surroundings.

From high above, something was casting a faint blue light on their surroundings. The wet stonework shimmered faintly, just enough for Rose to see where the walk ended and the river began. She kept to the inside of the walk as much as she could, but it was uneven and dipped quite low in places. The river itself had slowed to a stagnant crawl, visible only by a thin layer of dirt and wood chunks that floated atop. Something was seriously blocking the river up ahead, but so far they hadn’t found anything. At least the fields themselves would be dry.

On either side of the river buildings shot up towards the sky, humidity and mist coating their surfaces in a shimmer and illuminating the weakening structures. They crept carefully past a Shadow Pony, not yet unpeeled, that was reaching up for the ceiling, desperately slurping down the pathetic light, and it wasn’t until they’d turned a corner that Rose let out a breath that she couldn’t remember holding. Twice more they saw purple eyes watching them from across the river.

A long, low shape emerged from the gloom, reaching across the river, too tall to be a simple bridge; large chunks were missing, leaving giant bite marks across its top. A tower had fallen over.

Daring said, “Oh, hey! I think we found our blockage. If we can get over it, we’re home free!”

Rose lifted her front left hoof and shook it, trying to flick off some water and coax some warmth back in. “Let’s hope so, Sug’.”

Daring flew ahead to check it out.

“Either way, the fields are just ahead, under an archway,” Midnight said. “This river would normally be diverted into channels that would criss cross the fields. Fields this large couldn’t be watered by hoof.”

“Ah know a thing or two ’bout irrigation, thank you,” Rose sniffed, shaking her other hoof.

“Uh, guys?” Daring called out. “Better come take a look at this.”

Rose approached the debris. It looked like a tower had been knocked over, and a pile of bricks lay in the river, though not enough to block it. The fact that Daring hadn’t immediately told them it was clear made her wary. Mindful of Midnight trying to stay balanced, she kept low and scrambled up the pile of stonework, over a mostly-intact wooden floor that had slid out, and around a column of rock that shouldn’t be still balancing to finally join Daring atop the rubble—looking out over what appeared to be a lake.

“Whoa,” Midnight muttered.

The farmlands had been completely flooded; instead of rolling dirt hills, a frozen black floor of glass stretched out into the distance. The surface was still and dead, and without any real light they couldn’t see whether the bottom was a couple meters or a couple kilometers down. The air was still too, and dead silent—even the persistent static seemed muted.

Daring kicked a rock; it sailed silently through the air, its reflection clear and sharp on the water. When it splashed it created a half-dozen perfectly circular waves that slid off into the distance. Rose had never seen single waves before; every other body of water she’d seen had at least a gentle swell, or tiny ripples.

Rose closed her jaw, let her brain catch up, then asked, “Just how far around are these fields?”

“A couple kilometers, tops.”

“And we’re certain Cairo’s that way? That this here is the right river and that the Tome is ahead of us?”

“Assuming Cairo hasn’t already found the Tome and isn’t heading back, then yes, he’s up ahead. According to the map there are only a couple other rivers in the city, and both curve a lot more than this one did.”

Rose rubbed her face and groaned. When she opened her eyes Daring was looking at her, eyes waggling. She grimaced. She knew that look. She knew that idea. “Oh, no. No! Ah’d sooner face down a pair of bucking broncos!”

“We can’t turn back now. You said it yourself: we’ve gotta get to the Tome before Cairo does.”

Rose ignored Midnight’s half-hearted protests. “Then we’re going ’round.”

“Yeah? And spend another couple hours wandering around down here? Or maybe you wanna walk back through the crowds of Shadow Ponies that watched us the whole way?”

“We ain’t doin’ it! Ah ain’t fixin’ to go swimming, and that water’s cold enough we’d freeze to death anyways!”

“Doing what?” Midnight asked.

“It’s the only way across. I can barely carry a single pony in level flight. I’m sure as hay not flying you guys.”

“What’s the only way across?” Midnight asked.

Rose grunted, then explained, “Ya see that shit-eating grin on Daring’s face? One of the floors from this tower’s layin’ behind us. Ah just know Daring’s itchin’ to use it as a raft.”

“C’mon, you gotta admit—it’s a pretty good idea.”

“Yeah, ’cause you can just fly away if it starts sinkin’.”

Midnight spoke up. “Could we see how well it floats?”

They looked at her.

“It’s pretty calm, and you’re right—Daring can fly herself out of danger if it does start to sink. So we have Daring try the raft first.”

“Can you swim?” Rose asked Midnight.

Midnight shrugged. “Dunno. Never tried.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Daring argued. “And it is two against one.”

“Y’all are crazy,” Rose muttered, hanging her head in defeat, and tried to ignore the sudden howls from far too close by.

The raft dipped alarmly when Daring put her weight on it, but to Daring’s relief (and Rose’s obvious disappointment) it didn’t sink. It tipped again when Rose and Midnight joined her. Waves slid out from the wobbly raft, breaking the mirror finish on the lake’s surface. They shuffled around until the raft was mostly balanced; then Daring dug her hooves into the decking, opened her wings, and carefully pushed them out. Slowly the raft pushed away from the boardwalk and out onto the lake proper.

Daring was unsteady at first, only getting into a rhythm after a few minutes of flapping. It was much harder than flying: her wings were practiced at flapping quickly, not slowly, and Daring didn’t want to risk pushing the raft too quickly and submerging the front, an outcome with which she had much first-hoof experience.

The city fell away behind them, silently fading into the darkness. Last to disappear were several pairs of glowing purple eyes, reminding Daring of locals waving goodbye to departing tourists. What few torches that had remained lit during their skulk had been extinguished, leaving only a haunting, pale light from high above and a faint glow from the other side of the lake. The sound quieted until all she could hear was the cold air washing over her wings, water splashing out of the way of their raft, and the breathing from all three of them.

Her muscles ached already: her wings couldn’t flap to their full extent without knocking one of the others overboard, and to keep from tipping herself over she had to keep her hooves spread into a large square, leaving very little room for the others. The raft never really stilled; instead it bobbed and tilted and leaned, leaving her stressed from concentration. Water lapped over the edges of their wooden platform, and up between the planks themselves; and, as Daring found by accident, if she concentrated she could tilt the raft just so—

Rose shrieked like a filly and jumped to her hooves, nearly knocking Daring over. “Land’s sakes!” she swore, her rear end and tail soaked. She glared at Daring. “Yer doin’ that on purpose!”

Daring sniggered. “Totally an accident.”

Rose continued, with a sneer, “Ah’ll remind you that while Earth Ponies are generally great swimmers, Pegasi are not.”

“Ha!” Daring grinned. “We Pegasi must be terrible, then, if you’re better.” She gave the raft an extra firm shove.

“Hay!” Rose hollered, kicking at Daring’s legs. “Knock it off!”

Daring hopped from hoof to hoof, laughing and dodging Rose. “You’ll be the one tipping us over if you don’t stop!”

One of her kicks connected and Rose swiped Daring’s legs out from under her. She crashed onto her back, nearly knocking Midnight off the side with her wings. Water pushed up over the edge and splashed up her barrel.

Daring hollered, jerking straight like she’d been hit by lightning and nearly falling into the murky water before catching herself. Hovering over the water, she glared at Rose, who was roaring with laughter and barely balancing. Beside her, Midnight lay flat on her stomach, eyes wide and limbs reaching wider to keep from sliding off. Patches of her coat were slick and shiny.

“Uh, guys?” she asked, trembling. “Can you not capsize our boat?!”

It occurred to Daring that Midnight definitely couldn’t swim. Daring gulped, and gently landed on the raft, making room for Rose to settle as well.

“Sorry,” she said, trying not to smirk. And she was, really, but something about the familiarity of roughhousing pushed against the strangeness of the black lake.

“Hey, how come Ah can see y’all?” Rose asked Midnight. “Not that Ah’m complainin’, but Ah thought it was gonna be pitch black.”

“Yeah,” Daring agreed. “What’s with the glow?” she asked, pointed towards the ceiling.

“There’s a natural bioluminescence in the cavern, resulting from a fungal growth covering the ceiling. From what we could tell, it was the natural diet of the Shadow Beasts that lived here originally.”

“Uh, you mean Shadow Ponies,” Daring corrected.

“No, I don’t. There weren’t any ponies at first.”

It took a beat for Daring to process that. Daring opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Rose was slightly more successful. “Huh? Whaddya mean, at first? Where’d they come from?”

Midnight cleared her throat. “At first, the only inhabitants down here were the shadows. They slid over the walls and ceiling of the cave system and soaked up the fungal glow. When the first settlers came they didn’t see any creatures beside their own shadows and decided the caves were safe. The sudden explosion of light and heat created by their settlement changed the shadows.”

“Into Shadow Ponies?” Daring asked, feeling a shiver that wasn’t entirely from the chill in the air.

“Maybe,” Midnight said. Daring waited. Midnight finally admitted, “We don’t know. You saw the mural; eventually they were being constantly hounded by Shadow Ponies.”

“Land sakes,” Rose breathed. “They did this. The settlers.”

“Probably. The Shadow Ponies aren’t violent when they aren’t gorging on light and heat that they weren’t designed to experience. It’s a like salt to them. Once they started fighting the violence only escalated.”

The three watched the ceiling in silence as silhouettes flitted across, circling the brightest glows.

Daring grunted. “You know, just once I’d like to face a monster I can beat up without feeling guilty about it.”

A dark shape passed between them and the ceiling. Daring looked down from the ceiling and jerked back with a yelp. Looming suddenly and racing for them was a solid wall of stone. She flared her wings and shoved the raft out of the way. The shiny wet stonework came within centimeters of her face.

“What was that?” she asked, looking back and forth for anything else in their path.

“Some sort of lighthouse, Ah reckon,” Rose said, clearly shaken. “Ah was wonderin’ how they kept the fields lit.”

The lighthouse rose sharply from the water, racing up towards the ceiling. It was as wide around as their raft and almost perfectly round, judging by the reflecting edges of its stonework. It was dark enough that the surrounding lake looked brighter, reflecting more of the faint blue glow from far above.

Daring looked up. It was tall, but it should’ve been taller. Coming into view as they floated silently around its base was a pile of rubble that sank down into the depths. The destroyed sections were still a fair ways up; the tower looked like somepony had taken a dried twig and snapped it at its midpoint, leaving claws of rock still reaching towards the ceiling.

A pair of purple eyes emerged from the exposed rim, looking down at them. Daring waited, breath held, but the eyes stayed put, content to sit and watch.

“Ya think it’s trapped?” Rose wondered. “Maybe it can’t swim either. How long do ya reckon it’s been there?”

Daring just shrugged. “Driven up there by the lake when it flooded?”

The eyes wavered for a second before flicking out of sight behind the rough stonework. Daring could feel a chill in the air around the tower, could feel a wall of static trapped just outside her hearing.

Midnight whispered, “There’s more.”

Daring and Rose turned and looked ahead. Out of the distance more of the spires were appearing, spaced regularly and far apart. None were in their path. They passed by a second, and a third. Daring looked up and felt a rush of something like vertigo, as if she were looking downwards into a deep, dark crevasse, and the closest lighthouse was the steep cliff dropping off into nowhere, and if she slid forward just far enough she might fall . . .

There was just enough of a current to pull them along. They passed alongside more towers. Some had Shadow Ponies inside them; Daring didn’t need to see them, anymore: she could feel when one was near. From the way the others tensed then exhaled she figured they could too.

The last lighthouse fell away behind them. Daring watched it fade into darkness.

Waves from their raft were reflecting back at them, rocking their raft. Out of the blackness emerged stone walls and buildings, waves splashing against their foundations.

“Finally!” Rose cheered. Her smile turned into a frown as the stonework came into focus: instead of small homes and workshops, this part of the city was surrounded by enormous walls. Holes and fractures marked the walls, though none of which were at the water lever. As they approached, Rose had to keep readjusting her sense of scale as the wall kept growing and growing. By the time Daring had navigated them to an entrance under an archway Rose felt tiny as a pup.

“This must be it,” Rose muttered, craning her head back. “If they were gonna keep ponies safe during the summer solstice, they’d do it here.”

The current pulled them inside. The walls were deep as well as tall; their whole raft fit comfortably under the archway. As they passed inside, the light and sound from the lake dropped away, leaving only an oppressive weight from the closeness.

The inside was flooded, too. There were no sidewalks, or streets, or even any piers. The first floors were all submerged around them, many filled with rubble, and it was impossible to tell how far down the buildings went; even so, there were few roofs or openings at their height: the buildings immediately around them all reached towards the ceiling and were adorned with large windows, spanning archways that defied gravity, and spires that stabbed the darkness.

The water seemed to dampen what little sound there was, and having no echo was disorienting. There was no more light in the cavernous streets than there was above the flooded fields, but the reflections were more scattered around them, giving at least a sense of depth and speed. Looking far enough down a street, the city looked like a bunch of bumpy faint lines fading into the distance; but close up it could easily have been lit by a crescent moon.

They left the outer wall and passed down what might’ve been a street, down below. The current was slowly pulling them on a tour of this part of the city.

“What was this place?” Daring asked, eyes wide and darting back and forth as she drank in the sight, a look of awe painted over her face. “Some sort of fortress?”

“It was a church,” Midnight muttered, her attention clearly divided among all the sights. “We’re near where the priests would’ve performed their craft and kept their citizens safe during times of conflict. It looks like every wall is covered in torch-holders, keeping out Shadow Ponies and trapping any that made it in.”

“And just think—hundreds of years ago, on this very day, they’d’ve been huddled inside here, waiting out the last few days before the priests could banish the Shadow Ponies and make their city safe again.”

In her mind’s eye Rose saw dozens and dozens of helpless Earth Ponies crowded together for safety. If the whole fortress were as tall as the buildings surrounding them then maybe the whole city could’ve fit in here.

“How long did it take to build this?” Rose wondered. “It must’ve taken years. Decades!”

Midnight nodded. “From the first inhabitants to the last, we’ve found records of at least four generations. If you look you can see where the church wall was expanded over the years.”

“Four!?” Rose exclaimed. Her hometown was only into its third.

Daring broke out of her archaeological trance to say, “What kept them down here for a century? Surely they had plenty of reasons to abandon the place after only a couple years of survival.”

“Treasure?” Rose guessed hesitantly.

“Gotta be,” Daring agreed, her grin unmistakable, even in the dark.

“Just don’t forget why we’re here,” she warned Daring.

The current steered them down an alleyway. Rose carefully stood beside Daring and stretched her aching muscles. Immediately her limbs started tingling from inactivity. “Ooh, my legs are asleep,” she groaned.

“No, they’re not,” Midnight said, looking around. She leaned onto her side for a better view, still unable to stand on her own, and yelled, “Cairo! Where are you?”

“Shut up!” Daring hissed. “He’ll see us!”

“Ain’t no way he doesn’t know we’re here,” Rose said, feeling a dead weight settle in her gut. This was no place to be stuck on a raft. She glanced from window to window, roof to roof. Too many hiding places.

Cairo’s voice shattered the quiet of the fortress.

“Miss Do! Miss Gambit!” His voice seemed to come from all directions at once. “You survived! But of course you did; how could I expect anything less from the Great Daring Do?”

“Quit hiding, ya coward!” Rose yelled. “Show yerself!”

“I thought you liked hide-and-seek. You’ve been skulking through the city for hours now, right?

Rose leaned close to Daring and whispered, “Get us off this raft. Ah don’t care if it’s into the waitin’ mouth of a Shadow Pony, just find us a place to land.”

Daring nodded, eyeing the walls and archways around them, then whispered, “Keep him talking.” She flared her wings and started pushing them faster.

“Cairo!” Rose yelled. “Ya haven’t found the Tome yet, right? Ah’m surprised. A cunning Unicorn like yerself—why are ya still down here? Surely you’re not trapped by a couple flimsy Shadow Ponies.”

“I assure you, I’m not trapped. While the lake was an unexpected obstacle, it’s easy enough to travel under the cover of darkness.”

“Is that so? ’Cause we’ve been fightin’ our way past all sorts of torches and bonfires. Seemed like you’ve been lightin’ the way for us. Mighty kind of ya,” she sneered.

“Of course! Shadows are excellent hiding places, but not without light.” A pause. “On the topic of hiding places, how did you find Miss Oil? I was very careful to ensure she wouldn’t get herself caught.”

“You broke her leg?” Rose gasped. “How am Ah not surprised, ya filthy inbred swine!”

“No, he didn’t hurt me! Please, believe me!” Midnight promised them. “It was an accident! I told them, Cairo!”

They passed under an archway between two towers. Cairo’s voice followed them down the river. “You shouldn’t have left with them, Miss Oil. I told you I’d come back for you. What if something had happened to you?”

“I’m sorry! I panicked!” Midnight yelled. “They thought I wasn’t safe there.”

Daring prodded Rose and pointed ahead. A narrow staircase rose up from the water and clawed up towards a roof. From her view Rose couldn’t tell where it led, and she could see at least one Shadow Pony waiting for them, but it was solid ground that would lead to cover, and that was good enough. Rose nodded.

Cairo said, “It’s okay. You didn’t do anything wrong. I care very deeply, you know.”

“Yes, I know you do! Please! Get me out of here!”

“Cairo! You take off whatever spell ya got her under right now!” Rose yelled, nostrils flaring. She looked back and forth over the ledges and windows, looking for any sign of him.

“She’s not under any spell, Miss Gambit. She matters a great deal to me. All three of you do.”

“Some way of showing it. You keep trying to kill us!”

“Kill you?” He laughed. “I’m trying to save you—even though you keep throwing yourselves into such dangerous situations. Look at you, taking poor Miss Oil on an unsteady raft over deep waters with no idea what awaits you. No food, no light, no fire. She’s freezing! Please.”

The tingling over Rose’s coat grew more intense.

“Let me warm you up!”

A line of torches on the rooftop burst into flames, bathing the whole area in warmth and light. Suddenly Rose could see the buildings crowding around them, and could count just how many places there were for Cairo to hide.

Hungry howls that Rose was all too familiar with echoed around them, and she could see Shadow Pegasi diving fast. Daring flared her wings and flapped back, hard, nearly tipping their raft and tossing them overboard. As they backed up into the river, their staircase landing was swarmed with Shadow Ponies, some still barely peeled from their walls. The noise was awful.

“Cairo! Ah’ll kill you!” Rose hollered, as Daring tried to steady their raft and put distance between themselves and the violence erupting around the torches.

Cairo’s laughter echoed through the cavernous streets, mixing with snarls and snorts that were growing desperate. Rose looked at Midnight. She was laying flat on the deck, hooves over her head, shaking and muttering.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Rose assured her, trying to mask her own uncertainty. “We won’t let him getcha.”

Midnight just shook her head.

Daring shivered and looked ahead. “He’s close.”

The current pulled them around a corner, and Daring only had to keep them balanced at this point. Ahead the river widened like a delta, with rivers merging in from other sides. The fortress walls appeared out of the darkness on the far side, and in the middle of them was a large archway, blocked by a massive pile of boulders, bricks, and driftwood that rose from the water like an iceberg. The rest of the delta was surrounded by fortified buildings and tall walls. Rose suspected somewhere deep below were the ruins of an elaborate entryway and courtyard.

On the far side, on top of the debris blocking the archway, stood Cairo. They could barely see him; only his horn gave away his presence, smoldering a dull purple and illuminating his face, the surrounding walls, and the placid water.

“Finally we are reunited!” he yelled. Rose winced, certain that his boisterousness would finally anger the Shadow Pegasi into attacking them. “And you have delivered Miss Oil to me, safely and unharmed.” A pause. “More or less.”

“Cairo!” Rose said. “You end this right now! Midnight’s injured. She needs a doctor!”

“I assure you, she will be just fine. So long as Miss Do keeps those awful Shadow Pegasi off us, of course.”

“Hey!” Daring yelled. “They only attack you if you anger them. Turn off your horn!”

Rose ignored their argument. What’s he planning? The current was pulling them towards the archway, so water must be flowing through it underneath. It looked flimsy, but Cairo seemed unconcerned with his position.

But why was he just waiting there? He had a plain line of sight to their raft; all it would take would be one well-aimed spell to capsize their raft, or knock her and Daring off, or even just hold them in place and ignite their lantern and wait.

Rose looked back at Daring, who was tensed and yelling at Cairo so loudly and so animatedly Rose could barely make out the words. Eventually they’d get close enough that Daring could launch herself at Cairo and reach him before he could react. She figured Daring was buying time to do just that, and clearly Cairo would think that, too.

So . . . what was Cairo waiting for?

“It’s Midnight,” Rose muttered.

“Huh?” Daring paused her tirade and looked at Rose. “What about Midnight?” she asked quietly.

“Cairo won’t attack us with Midnight here. Maybe we can use that to our advantage.”

“Maybe . . . but eventually he’ll get close enough to grab Midnight himself. Then he can just leave us.” She tilted her head slightly and gestured ahead and to the right. “There’s a window we can use. It’s not pretty, and we’ll be exposed, but it’ll be solid ground. It’s the only chance we’ve got.”

“There’s no way he’ll let us get away. We need a distraction.”

“The Shadow Ponies,” Daring blurted out. “We can use them to occupy Cairo. He won’t be able to focus on us if he’s fighting off that horde.” She pursed her lips and frowned. “At least, I hope he can’t.”

Rose nodded. A terrible idea was forming. “Whelp . . . the sparkstone’s in my right bag. Ah need you to grab it and the lantern and hold them up.”

Daring eyes went wide, followed by her grin. “You’re a genius!”

“Ah’m an idiot for even considerin’ this.” She turned around, and Daring flicked her wings to line them up.

“Won’t he just grab it mid-air?” Daring asked.

“Sure, he’ll grab the lantern. He might not think to grab the rest.” She gulped and turned away from Cairo. “This is so fuckin’ stupid. Ya ready?”

Daring crouched low behind her, holding the lantern steady behind Rose’s hindlegs and the sparkstone right beside it. “On three? One. Two—”

“Wait!” Rose yelped. “Like, Ah kick it on three? Or, ‘One, two, three, kick’?”

“On three!” Daring hissed. “I just said—”

“Yeah, yeah. Just—try not to light mah tail on fire.”

“Try not to fart in my face,” Daring muttered. “One.”

Rose checked over her shoulder, lining herself up. Aim a little high . . .

“Two.”

A flash of light from somewhere close behind her. Don’t choke.

“Three!”

A wave of heat under her rump. Shrieks from high above, and from all around them.

Kick!

Rose kicked, trusting instinct and years of experience to send the lantern flying right at Cairo’s stupid head without shattering right then and there under her hooves. A solid impact. No flames licking at her legs. Rose whipped around to watch. The lantern sailed through the air on a high arc, taking its time. She could see dark masses in the sky rushing down towards it.

“Nice try,” Cairo laughed, his horn flashing.

A sheet of purple appeared between him and the lantern, and the lantern crashed against it, shattering. Lantern oil sprayed out, igniting in furious trails of gold and orange, continuing with most of the momentum Rose’s kick had delivered. Cairo’s gloating smile faded and his eyes went wide.

Fire splashed all around Cairo, and a mass of Shadow Ponies descended on his perch. Violence erupted in a blur of black, purple, and gold. Rose couldn’t watch, but she couldn’t look away. The Shadow Ponies were running him into the ground. Even if he was a sociopathic monster, he didn’t deserve to get torn to shreds—

“Land sakes,” she muttered.

The first to reach him were the Shadow Pegasi, a pair of them dive bombing from up high. Cairo leapt to the side and slammed a sheet of magic at them from either side. They crashed together and plummeted into the water. Several Shadow Ponies leapt towards Cairo, slashing and kicking and biting. Barriers flashed in and out of existence, deflecting their attacks while slowing their approach. He barked out a wordless cry and propelled one of the Shadow Ponies into the others, knocking them into a pile. His horn flared and a bolt of bright purple stabbed out, disintegrating the Shadow Ponies like a sparkstone would.

Cairo wasn’t getting torn to shreds. He was kicking ass. Rose gawked. No way we could’ve taken him head-on.

A Shadow Pony leapt on to Cairo’s back and clamped its jaw around his neck. He yelped and his horn flared, and the Shadow Pony sliced in half before evaporating. Rose just caught the flash of a purple barrier inside the wisps of smoke.

“C’mon!” Daring said, almost unheard under the violence, her wings pumping hard. “He’s not gonna be distracted for long.”

Rose looked. They were slipping sideways across the current and nearing the window. It was higher than Rose had expected; she’d need Daring’s help to get Midnight up there, and then getting herself up as well. And the raft wasn’t gonna just wait for them; they had to be quick.

“Daring, Ah ain’t sure Ah can make it that high.”

“We gotta try. I can lift you up. You’re not that heavy, right?”

Rose was about to yell something clever back at Daring when she felt a chill cover the surface of the water, and something like a cramp in her gut. Daring’s sudden wince suggested she’d felt it too.

Cairo! He was surrounded by a pile of wasted Shadow Ponies, panting and favoring his left foreleg. Most of the fire had been snuffed out, but not all, and there were still a few Shadow Ponies fighting for heat and light. His usual dismissive demeanor was replaced with raw anger. He looked straight at them. Their distraction hadn’t been enough.

And then another Shadow Pony leapt from the nearest roof onto the landing. Its landing caused the debris to groan and the surrounding buildings to shudder. Aches spread through Rose’s body and she stumbled, only just able to keep her balance and keep this newest Shadow Pony in view. It was taller than the others, and Rose had trouble focusing on it, but she recognized a third purple light in addition to its eyes, the only parts Rose could easily see. Atop its head sat a glowing, painful-looking horn. The other silhouettes hunched low and backed up, realising they were in the presence of something rare and terrifying.

Focused on Rose and Daring and likely preparing to pull them limbs-from-limbs, Cairo barely acknowledged the Shadow Unicorn, summoning a barrier to sweep it into the water. It ducked its head and pushed through. Cairo froze, and slowly turned to gaze into the billowing darkness.

The Shadow Unicorn’s horn seemed to suck the light out of the air around it. Nearby fires snuffed out as it approached. It walked slowly and gracefully, unlike the vicious, savage Shadow Ponies now struggling to get out of its way.

Rose’s jaw hung open, her hoof gripping at her chest. She could feel every step it took. Beside her, Daring cursed. Midnight was weeping softly.

Cairo’s horn flared and he shot a bolt of magic at the Shadow Unicorn, and more when the first didn’t work—each more powerful and longer, but they bounced off the monster and splashed over the debris pile.

Cairo grunted and dug more barriers deep into the ground around him, trying to slow the Shadow Unicorn’s approach. It shrugged past Cairo’s barriers and bolts and flicked its head up, launching Cairo into the air and holding him there. Cairo reached for his neck, gurgling and kicking, trying to loosen the magical grip holding him in place, but there was nothing for him to grab.

The Shadow Unicorn casually tilted his head and tossed Cairo clear across the debris pile, near the water’s edge. He landed in a heap and crumpled. The Shadow Unicorn tilted its head, then started walking towards him. Cairo coughed, shook his head, and watched the Unicorn approach. The ground around it started rumbling.

He tilted to look at the heroes, just as their raft was passing right under the window. His horn flashed, and with a bang he disappeared. Rose had only a moment to gasp before Cairo reappeared, just centimeters from her face, dangerously unbalancing their little raft. Clutching Midnight in his grasp Cairo blinked away again.

The Shadow Unicorn whipped its head back and forth, trying to find its prey, then roared in fury. Rose froze, praying that it wouldn’t notice them. How could it not? And if Cairo couldn’t defeat it . . .

It leapt onto a nearby roof and disappeared.

Rose stood silent as she processed what had just happened. After a few moments of relative silence Rose finally got her brain working enough to mutter, “What the fuck just happened?”

“Midnight! He took Midnight!” Daring said.

It had all happened so fast. Rose was only just noticing the smell of ozone. She scanned the buildings nearby but there was no sign of Cairo, and she could barely feel the tingling of magic on her coat. He was gone, leaving behind a charred and cratered debris pile. The fires had been extinguished, and huge piles of rubble had been blasted clear.

“Yeah . . . ” Rose muttered, and tried to clear her throat. Her mouth was parched. “Yeah. We gotta rescue . . . hold on. Ya hear that?”

The debris hadn’t stopped rumbling. “Whoa!” Rose felt a lurch beneath her hooves and found that they were moving again, being dragged towards the archway faster than before. Water was flowing through the wreckage, having finally found a weakness somewhere down below, and it was speeding up. They were about to beach their raft and get thrown violently overboard—

Oh, horseapples. Rose realized what was more likely. “Ah told ya this was a stupid idea!”

A roar of water joined the rumbling, and Rose could see larger sections of collapsed wall shifting and shoving out of place. She dropped to her gut and grabbed the raft.

“Hold on!” Daring yelled, right before the dam burst.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either Infernal Blast or The Drowned Catacombs, will be posted in two weeks. Got a guess?

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 11: Infernal Blast

It hadn’t seen her.

Twilight stood stock frozen, pressed up against the wall, as the Shadow Unicorn leapt off into the darkness. It was gone before she could think of trying to track it. That’s not good at all. And Rose and Daring would soon require her total concentration. Her plan was looking more and more foolish with each moment, but aborting in the middle of the ride was even more dangerous.

I’ll just . . . keep an eye out. For the Shadow Unicorn. That probably wants to kill us all.

On the other side of the dam, already slick with water, was a staircase that led from the archway down to the ritual chamber. It wasn’t long enough for Daring and Rose to have an exciting river rapids section, but Twilight had planned on making it seem longer with a combination of distractions, drag spells, and the occasional warp back to the top. Unfortunately, she needed a drain for all of the water, which meant either side of the staircase was a drop into the chasm around the city. The stairs were more like a very steeply slanted bridge.

And managing all of that simultaneously would stretch her to the limit. Too little drag, or a missed warp, and they could smash into the landing at the bottom and be seriously injured. Too much drag could push them off the side. And too much debris could knock them unconscious, leaving them to drown.

Deep breath. Focus on success. Ignore the chance that they could tumble off into the distance, hit something hard and snap their necks, or drown. Oh, Celestia . . . here we go!

Several key supports behind the dam snapped and spun into the darkness, while sprays of water shot out of small holes in the wreckage. A boulder the size of a small carriage shifted a couple centimeters lower, leaving an empty volume for water to fill. A low pressure wave shot out behind it, branching out through the city all the way back to the lake and pulling all that water forward. Pressure increased on the dam, pushing back more debris, which pulled in more water, until all at once the whole pile gave way, splitting down the middle and exploding outward.

From her hiding spot above the adventurers Twilight watched the water in front of the dam sink slightly but speed up tremendously. Rose yelped in surprise and dropped to the deck, while Daring spread her hooves and wings for maximum balance. Their raft accelerated faster than Twilight could hold it, and passed into the breach.

Go go go! Twilight teleported from her hiding place to a small ledge just inside the chasm, just in time to see the raft shoot out from the archway, leading a waterfall. They landed on the staircase, already going far faster than was strictly necessary. She applied drag and lift to the raft, letting the waterfall slide underneath them to give her a friction-free surface to work with, and to keep the raft from yawing too much. She didn’t have to bother spraying them with water: nature was doing enough of that already.

Soon they were shooting past her, and downwards. She teleported again, this time to a platform suspended below a stalactite. The adventurers were still on their raft, even if they were getting tossed around.

Something crashed up behind the adventurers. Twilight spotted a large boulder tumbling down the staircase faster than their raft. She projected a slanted barrier that knocked it sideways, but it pushed back against her barrier, which pushed back against her horn and knocked her off her hooves.

“Ahh!” she yelped, tumbling from her perch. She spread her wings, lofting into a glide, then spied her final teleport destination. She clenched her eyes shut, then she was skidding to a stop on solid ground. She looked up. A wall of water was rushing towards her. She was off to the side, mostly out of sight, but it was still a gamble: behind her was the end of the staircase, the final landing, and the wall of the chasm. When the water hit the end it would spray out in all directions, but quickly fall down the sides—hopefully not hitting her.

Riding atop the wave was Daring Do, in a heroic pose, and Rose Gambit, crouched below her and trying to keep as close to the center of mass as she could. Twilight had expected terror, maybe even excitement on their faces, but the two of them had looks of such intense concentration that Twilight almost laughed.

Hope bubbled up. C’mon, guys! You can do it! Her smile shrunk a little. Only two more laps to go. . . This was a terrible idea. It was dark enough that they wouldn’t be able to see the landing or notice Twilight picking them up and moving them, so long as she did it fast enough.

She concentrated on the top of the staircase, only just visible high above, and on the raft, approaching at breakneck speeds. With a flash, they disappeared. She could already tell they’d landed properly, even if her senses were a little warped at such a distance.

Twilight teleported back to the start and felt the telltale tingle of teleporting too quickly. She opened her eyes just as the raft hit the staircase at an angle, rolling dangerously even as Daring fought to stay upright. If the leading edge of the raft caught even one step they would be thrown free and fall into the abyss. Behind them more and more debris was collapsing out of the way of the rushing water.

And towering over her was the Shadow Unicorn.

It blinked, tilted its head, then shot a bolt of magic at her face. Deep rooted Unicorn instincts shunted the magic to the side with a slanted barrier, throwing her off the edge in the other direction. Her nascent Pegasus instincts had her flapping hard for altitude, tilting just so to avoid another bolt. Her powerful Earth Pony magic dumped a ton of adrenaline into her blood. A third bolt cut through the air above her head and between her wings. Twilight smelled burnt mane as she flew zigzags through the air.

“No! No! No!” Twilight yelled. “Not now!” She looked down the staircase. Daring and Rose were yelling, their raft yawing dangerously to the side, even with Daring’s wings doing their best to keep them steady.

Abort!

A checklist appeared in her mind’s eye:

Goals: A) Get to safety.

Twilight closed her eyes and squeezed through the space between spaces, teleporting to the second landing near the middle of the staircase. As soon as her hooves touched solid ground she jumped back into the air in case another spell was heading her way, but she couldn’t see the Shadow Unicorn anywhere. Good. It can’t teleport. Ha!

B) Secure the raft.

Daring and Rose were racing down the staircase, and Twilight needed them stopped, now. She visualized and conjured drag vectors around the raft, managing at least to stop their spin. Another quick glance for threats, but no Shadow Unicorn. She briefly considered whether it was audacious enough to grow wings as well, but discounted that notion; they’d all be dead now—and Equestria in serious jeopardy—if a Shadow Pony had bootstrapped itself all the way into an Alicorn. Distance would keep them safe until she could hunt it down and eliminate it.

The raft shot past her lookout and down into the depths. Once Twilight appeared at the bottom she would have to quickly catch the raft, safely set it down near the door, and hopefully avoid being seen—she still had a chance to salvage the situation, and Daring and Rose would have no sympathy for her, even if she tried to help them at the end.

Another quick teleport, to the end of the course. They were getting harder, especially when she went so frequently. It took her a couple extra moments to dispel the dizziness and tingling when she landed at the bottom. She felt like her lunch was about to crawl up her throat, except that she hadn’t eaten in some time now. There was precious little light, even with her keen eyes and strong night vision, and at first she couldn’t even tell where she was supposed to go.

She took a step, then staggered, lofting her wings for balance. The Shadow Unicorn had already done its damage, unsettling her and stressing her body. Her hunger was starting to get to her, and the teleport had been too far. Her limbs felt like she’d been sitting on them—

Her stomach jerked, like she’d been tossed in the air—

“You!” she cried, flaring her wings and spinning in place. The dizziness faded and the tingling ceased as she fought the Shadow Unicorn from her mind. She landed softly, hooves spread wide, facing the beast.

It could teleport.

The Shadow Unicorn stood across the landing, eyes and horn glowing bright, and despite the mist fuzzing the air Twilight could finally get a good view of it. It was a stallion, taller than she was but lankier, too. Its horn ended in a needle-sharp tip, surrounded by a mane made of smoke that was slowly wafting in the humid breeze. It was panting; its breath was harsh and labored.

C) Eliminate the Shadow Unicorn.

Her ears flicked forward, and her lips pulled back into a growl.

The Shadow Unicorn ducked its head slightly. A barrier thicker than a stone wall slammed into Twilight and pushed her backwards. She yelped and leapt to the side, digging her hooves into the ground and slicing through the barrier with her horn. When she looked up the Shadow Unicorn was gone.

Smoke billowed around her hooves, and she jumped into the air, blowing away the smoke with the wash from her wings. The smoke piled high and solidified into pony form, lunging at her. Twilight teleported behind it, rotating through a half turn, and shot a full-spectrum sunbeam at it. Direct hit, right in the thigh, as bright as burning magnesium, even as it was turning to face her. The Shadow Unicorn stumbled and bellowed, shaking the ground and dazing Twilight.

Good. It was still mortal.

C) Eliminate the Shadow Unicorn.

She felt a tingle around her neck. With a flick of its horn Twilight was lifted into the air. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She reached for her neck, frantically trying to grab whatever was choking her, but there was nothing to remove. As she fought for breath she conjured a barrier on either side of the Shadow Unicorn, trying to squeeze it into submission. The Shadow Pony teleported out from between them, releasing its hold on Twilight’s neck. Twilight stumbled to the ground, coughing. The Shadow Unicorn appeared in front of her. Twilight desperately threw up barrier after barrier to slow it down. Its razor horn cut through each like they were paper.

Twilight electrified one of the barriers. When the Shadow Unicorn’s horn made contact a brilliant actinic flash arced between it and the barrier. The Shadow Unicorn was thrown backwards with a loud bang, rolling once before skidding to a stop on its hooves. Twilight was ready for the equal-yet-opposite force, leaning forward into her horn and sliding back only a meter or so. She felt her mane stand on end.

Twilight wiped a line of spit from her chin and panted. The Shadow Unicorn stepped towards her, then paused, ear cocked to the side. Twilight tensed, expecting some sort of trick, but then she heard it too—Daring Do cursing up a storm. Twilight chanced a look in their direction. The raft was approaching.

“Can’t you wait?! I’m busy!” Twilight hollered.

The Shadow Unicorn looked back and forth between the adventurers and Twilight, before turning and shooting a bolt of purple energy right at the raft. Twilight conjured a spray of water under the raft, propelling it upward and above the bolt. It exploded behind the adventurers with a hiss of steam, unheard under the roar of the river.

A barrier slammed into Twilight, knocking her sideways. She fought to keep control of the raft as the Shadow Pony took advantage of her distraction, flicking barriers at her from all directions. Twilight was knocked back and forth, desperately trying to keep her balance while protecting the raft.

Twilight had to land them safely, but she couldn’t do so with the Shadow Unicorn nearby. No time to second guess herself. She teleported the raft and its passengers back to the top. She’d bought herself a minute, maybe less—the raft was travelling faster and faster with each lap. This was her only chance.

C) Eliminate the Shadow Unicorn!

Frantically dodging the Shadow Unicorn’s attacks, she focused and cast a basic dispel charm, aimed perfectly at the Shadow Unicorn. She wasn’t too surprised when it didn’t work, but her stronger magic seemed equally useless. Regent’s Reversal, The Dynamo, and Much Maligned Millicent’s Muddle all failed—Millicent never failed!—even though their increasingly draining, painful side-effects proved that they were working. The Shadow Unicorn ignored them and the damage they caused like they were well-wishes, and lunged at Twilight.

“Come on!” she protested, rolling out of the way. “That was a textbook Inversion-of-Control!” Her spells were getting her nowhere, and she was running out of time. The Shadow Unicorn wasn’t affected like a regular conjuration, or even a normal creature. “Why can’t I erase you?! I created you, you’re not even real—”

She stumbled as her mind made several connections at once, and she ignored the bolt that scorched the ground in front of her. The Shadow Unicorn was just a Shadow Pony that had tapped into her power, and she’d created the Shadow Ponies in an act of improvisation and fiction. If real magic isn’t working, maybe fictional magic will!

Twilight had skipped desperate and gone straight to crazy—it wasn’t even a real spell. She was going to die.

At least she might go out with a bang.

Twilight levitated the copy of Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith from her saddlebags, and began frantically skimming through the pages, searching for a particular block of text. When the Shadow Unicorn leapt at her she teleported behind it, still nose-deep in the book.

“Aha!” she yelled. The Shadow Unicorn skidded to a stop, expecting some spell to fly out of nowhere at it. Twilight explained, “I found it. Hold on.”

The Shadow Unicorn’s eyes narrowed. Twilight wondered how much of her personality it had absorbed to be suspicious. Holding the book in view, she cleared her throat, eyed the beast, and read:

“The fires of the metalsmith, now lost in ancient night—Ack!” Twilight lunged to the side, avoiding a spell aimed her way. When she regained her balance she focused on the next lines:

“Be found, again, though broken, weak, and empty of your light;
I summon thee, in direst need, and powerless from fright;
Ascend, above the shadows, shattered metals, and eternal ash.”

The Shadow Unicorn dove for her, evaporating through Twilight’s barrier and appearing on the other side. Twilight spun and shot a full-spectrum sunbeam, singeing the beast’s smoky mane. She started the second verse, reciting quickly but carefully, as pieces of the spell fell into place:

“Though torn free from your furnaces, with fuel spent to dust;
I give to thee my final spark: hold precious close, in trust;
Combust! ignite and burn! inside that stolen hearth of rust—Ah!”

Pain bloomed through her shoulder. Twilight screamed, was knocked back, the book torn from her hooves and sent flying. The Shadow Unicorn loomed over her. Twilight clenched her eyes shut, covered her head, knew she was about to die, yelled:

“And realize the Holy Forge’s dying flare: Infernal Blast!”

The chamber blinked white, visible even through her eyelids. Twilight was picked up and thrown backwards. For a second the cavern was dead-silent—she’d finally gone too far—then a wave of sound crashed over her. She landed, rolling across the landing almost to the edge. Ringing in her ears. Hoofsteps walking up to her. The Shadow Unicorn could just give her one solid kick, and Twilight, as afraid of her wings as she was, wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Nothing. She opened one eye, then the other. No Shadow Unicorn looming over her. No sign of it anywhere around her. She shook her head, trying to dislodge the stuck thought processes, and started tapping the back of her neck just below her skull to silence the ringing.

“Okay,” she wheezed. “That was unexpected.”

She clambered to her hooves, coughing harsh smoke and the smell of burnt mane from her lungs. The darkness of the cave had been replaced with the brilliant orange glow of several small, smoldering fires. Glowing cinders fell like snow, quickly fading to ash. Finally she spotted it. All that was left was an inky-black painting on the far wall, so warped and distorted by the blast that its body had sheared in half, never again to gain a solid form.

Without anything combustible to burn, the fires quickly snuffed themselves out, leaving the darkened cave with a lingering smell of ash and oily smoke, lit only by the faint bioluminescence from far above and Twilight’s constantly illuminated horn. Twilight gathered the book, staggered up to the remains of the Shadow Unicorn, and smirked.

“Try to steal my magic, will you?” she snarled, and spat on the shadow like a total badass.

The sounds of screaming and swearing slammed into her. The raft was right above her, flying straight for her so fast that Twilight barely had time to jump out of the way before it crashed into the rock and shattered. Bits of wreckage flew in all directions, and the chamber filled with the echoes of snapping wood.

Two lumps tumbled out, rolling to a stop even as wreckage rained down around them. Twilight gasped and raced towards them.

“No, no, no! Please be okay. Please be okay. Please . . . ”

She cleared the sticks of wood from them, blasting debris out of the way without a second thought. Rainbow Dash and Applejack were breathing. Twilight exhaled, nearly collapsing with relief. They were unconscious—maybe even with concussions. She could fix that. She focused and flicked her horn just so, the practiced movements stirring familiar magical energies around Rainbow Dash and Applejack.

Applejack groaned and rolled onto her side, but her breathing quickly settled. Dash winced, her eyes clenched shut. She looked uncomfortable. She looked in pain. She looked—

A long, deep belch echoed through the cavern, fading into the roar of the waterfall that was slowly dying.

Twilight barked out a laugh, feeling a rush of tears on her cheeks. “Oh, thank the Sun. Oh . . . ” Dash had simply swallowed a lot of air and water on her way down, and now looked much calmer. Twilight couldn’t help but grin as she gently warmed and dried Dash’s wings.

For a few moments Twilight basked in the knowledge that her friends were alright, then blurted out, “I’m sorry!”

The adventurers lay silent.

“I’m so sorry. I was going to catch you, I swear! But there was this Shadow Unicorn, and it was gonna blow you both up, and I couldn’t pay attention to you guys and keep it back. It’s not my fault! They weren’t supposed to get that strong. They weren’t supposed to be dangerous!”

She paused, then hung her head. “No, that—that’s my fault. I shouldn’t have made them in the first place. So many simple personalities . . . I should’ve guessed something like this would happen. Too risky.”

She smiled. “But you guys—I had no idea you two were so—so—so awesome!” she gushed. “You raced right past them. You just blew them up and kept going. And climbing those ladders and zooming up like that—and the way you got past Magnet the Mighty? Wow! Every time I built something huge, every time I put something in your path, you kept going without even slowing down. I built a whole city!” she said in a rush. “I’ve never built a whole city before! Did you see how big it was? I even—”

Applejack and Dash ignored her. Twilight nodded, biting her lip.

“I’m gonna get you out. Ok? Just—We can’t go back. It’s too far. The caves have all been filled in, and I don’t think I have the strength to dig them back out.” The words came faster and faster. “I got carried away and we delved too greedily, and now I’ve gotten you stuck at the bottom of a chasm. But don’t worry!” she insisted, desperate for them to understand, to trust her. “The rest of the church is ready, and there’s a way out. Nice and safe.” She’d spent a long time obsessing over the ritual chamber, where the final showdown would occur—where it would’ve occurred. “The climb’s a little tedious, since we’re a fair ways down, but I’ll help you guys out.”

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

“I’ll help you out and . . . and I can be the most pathetic villain you’ve ever faced, Daring Do.” That was the worst. They were injured, and they were exhausted, and they were drained, but Twilight could fix all of those. Waking up and realizing that Twilight had done all of this, and let it go so out-of-hoof—they might forgive her for that, after a little time apart.

But knowing that their last memories of an unforgettable experience were of Twilight confessing her inadequacy? She couldn’t fix that.

Quit stalling.

She reached deep within herself for the subtle magics that would revive them, and for an instant she saw sparkles behind their eyelids. The spell would take a few seconds to work, and then—

Nothing. Twilight frowned, reached forward, and prodded Applejack on the hip.

Applejack rolled onto her back and groaned. “Wuzzat? Who’s—Huh?”

Twilight squeaked and teleported out of sight. Her horn glowed like a beacon and she frantically tried to cover it with her hooves, then ducked her head behind a large rock and whimpered. Would Applejack see her? Would she yell at her? Beat her up? Twilight would go willingly, she wouldn’t fight, she’d—

“Daring. Daring! Wake up!” Applejack was silent for a moment, then said, “Whoa! Easy there.”

And they’d been roleplaying for so long they could slip into character right from waking. Wonderful.

“Rose? What happened?”

“We crashed.”

“Uh . . . yeah. I got that.” Twilight could hear Dash rolling her eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“After everything else this place has thrown at us? Ah’m pretty much unkillable.”

Twilight winced.

“How long was I out?” Dash asked.

“’Bout a minute more than Ah was,” Applejack admitted. “Can you stand?”

Twilight peered over the top of her hiding rock. Dash and Applejack slowly stood and tried to figure out what was going on. Twilight didn’t want to interrupt them while they weren’t actually in any danger; why not let them play pretend a little more? They could—

Twilight sighed. She knew she was being foalish. She needed to end this, immediately. With a gulp, Twilight hung her head and crawled out from her hiding place.

“We gotta save Midnight.”

Twilight paused, mouth open, their names on the tip of her tongue. She could see Applejack and Dash, but they were looking away from her, at the massive stone doors that led onwards.

“Well, duh! Can you walk?”

“Can Ah—Of course Ah can walk! Ah am an experienced tomb raider. Just ’cause Ah was knocked out?” She laughed. “Ah’ll have ya know Ah’ve had plenty of concussions. Earth Ponies are tougher than ya think, featherbrain.”

“Ohh, concussions. Whoo.” Dash twirled a hoof. “I’ve been struck by lightning. Real lightning.”

“Couldn’t count the number of times Ah’ve been bucked in the face. Ah’m surprised Ah have all mah teeth.” She turned to face Dash and grinned a toothy grin.

“Once, I slammed into the ground at terminal velocity.”

“Had a barn collapse all ’round me.”

Twilight slapped a hoof to her face. They are delirious.

“Pshh. Anypony can be inside a collapsing building. It takes real guts to wrangle an actual tornado.” Dash tapped her chin. “Of course, you did ride a bucking bronco made of stone. That was dumb.”

“Guilty. Though not as stupid as you dive-bombing crazy magic shadows.”

Dash turned to face her. “Well you were right down there with them.”

Applejack nodded. “And Ah couldn’t’ve done it without yer help.”

“Well, yeah.” Dash reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. After a moment of Applejack smirking, Dash added, “And, you know, you were carrying Midnight the whole way.” She smiled. “Think you can carry her some more?”

Applejack laughed. “So now we just gotta get her, steal back the Tome from Cairo—without him catching us or using the Tome—and make it out alive.”

“Sounds right.”

They clasped hooves in what was undoubtedly a firm, heroic grip, and nodded.

Quite possibly euphoric, too. Twilight had to stop them.

“No way back,” Dash guessed.

“Eenope.”

Stop them.

“Probably a trap.”

“Eeyup.”

Say something!

“S’pose there’ll be minions?”

“He’s gotta keep them somewhere,” Dash nodded. “And he’ll have the Tome of Shadows, but he won’t know how to use it, so we’ve gotta move fast before he does something really stupid.”

“So . . . no problem?”

“No problem. Like rescuing a Princess in peril.”

They turned towards the door and hurried off.

Twilight watched them charge ahead into the darkness.

“Wait . . . guys?”

Her left eye twitched. Didn’t they realize—

“Fine!” She stomped her hoof. “Fine. You want minions? A trap? Dangerous magic? You want to barrel blindly into danger, face your darkest fears, and risk everything, all to save a lowly librarian—like knights rescuing some Princess in peril?”

Twilight felt an evil grin slide over her face. “I can do that. I can do anything.”

She closed her eyes and hummed. She felt good. Whorls of purple magic surrounded her until she vanished with a blink.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either The Librarian or The Midnight Prophecies, will be posted in two weeks. Show your love with a comment down below!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 12: The Librarian

Their gallop slowed to a light canter as Daring and Rose drew deeper down the hall. Without their lantern or a torch the only light came from the deep blue smears along the ceiling and the top of the walls. Daring’s eyes were as adjusted to the dark as they were going to get, and it was still tricky to see the ground in front of her hooves.

Despite the distance the tunnel appeared to travel, and despite how long they’d travelled down the waterfall only to crash again at the bottom of a massive crevasse, it still felt to Daring like she was walking through a hall in the city above. The floor, the walls, and the ceiling were all finely engraved out of the surrounding rock. The ceiling was impressively high, and the walls set apart far enough to allow a half dozen ponies to walk comfortably side by side. Spaced evenly into the walls were massive columns that stretched up into the darkness. Even the decorations were familiar. Only the slimey feel under her hooves and the luminescent algae stains far above reminded her just how old and abandoned it all was. The air seemed to suck the sound from the echoes of their horseshoes.

Daring was about to try and break the disconcerting silence when she heard noises up ahead: hoofsteps clattering across open stone; a low whistling breeze; then, a few moments later, something low that might’ve been voices. She and Rose shared a look, then Rose slowed her approach, trying to mask the sounds of her own hoofsteps, while Daring took to the air, hovering just above the ground.

The hall grew noticeably brighter as they approached whatever was ahead. They could soon feel drafty air accompanying the whistling that bounced around among the pillars. There was enough light to finally see what was right in front of their hooves, instead of wandering blinding and hoping they didn’t run into anything.

“What the—?” Rose muttered, stopping and looking at her hooves.

Daring landed silently and peered at the shape at Rose’s hooves. “A book?”

Rose reached for the book. “Ew, it’s all mildewy,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “Pretty heavy.”

“What’s it say?” Daring asked.

“Ah can’t tell, it’s too dark. The pages are all stuck together and damp.” She lifted the book to her face, sniffed, then winced and held it out at a foreleg’s distance. “Yuck.”

“What’s it doing here?” Daring wondered. “Maybe Cairo dropped it?”

“Too damp for him to have just dropped it, unless he takes to bringin’ mouldy books around. It’s been here for a while.” Rose looked back and forth along the floor, then pointed ahead. “There’s another.” Rather than hold it in her mouth or try to walk on three hooves, Rose carefully set the book back in place and approached the next.

This book was lying open, its pages in worse condition than the first. It glowed faintly blue, stained by the same algae smears as the ceiling. Daring could at least make out the writing on the pages, though she couldn’t tell what they said.

Further ahead, closer to the end of the hallway, there were more of the books. Now that they knew what to look for, they could see the small dark shapes littering the edges of the floor, piling up in some places. Torn pages were stuck to the wall and floor, and there were several book covers and bindings that had almost no pages remaining. They were in a sorry state.

“Ah hope none of these are the Tome. We could walk right over it and never know.”

Daring shook her head. “We might not, but Cairo would notice.”

Rose inspected another pair of books and whistled. “Too bad Ah don’t have the tools to protect these books. Damaged or not, they’d still fetch a pretty bit on the market.”

Daring rolled her eyes. “They should be taken to a museum where they can be restored.”

Rose scoffed, and said casually, “Maybe one of us’ll hafta come back here some day and collect ’em.”

Daring’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe.” She could probably finance a return expedition, now that she knew where to go and what to expect. She’d have to call in a few favors, which were always in short supply . . . and she could probably find some friends that would enjoy the thought of taking on a city of monsters . . . “Of course, we’d need to make it out of here alive, first.”

Rose nodded. “Truce?”

“Truce.”

With the relative safety of the artifacts assured for another day, Daring turned her attention back to the remaining hallway. It hadn’t forked so far, and there had been no doorways or openings on either side that she’d caught, though in the darkness it would be easy to miss one.

The activity ahead grew louder. The end of the hall appeared, bright enough to conclude that there were torches lit on the other side. The light flickered as ponies moved about the room. If anypony looked down the hall Daring and Rose would be spotted immediately. Daring pulled Rose aside, and they hid behind one of the massive columns, standing over a small pile of books.

“Cairo’s gonna have guards on the other side of the doorway, just waiting for us to stick our necks through. We need to get inside without being seen.”

Rose slowly peeked around the pillar, then pulled back and searched the walls up and around them. “Well, unless we can find another way in, we might just have to turn invisible.”

“We snuck past his goons earlier,” Daring pointed out.

“Yeah, when we had a whole jungle to hide in and any number of ways to get past them.”

“Good idea,” Daring said, whispering. “Hold on.” She quietly took off into the air. There was a lot of wall to check, but even in the light from the doorway Daring couldn’t see any balconies or windows or doorways up above pony height. In fact, aside from the piles of ruined books lining the floor, the only irregularity was a pillar that had cracked and crumbled partly, leaving it pockmarked up its height.

Daring landed beside Rose. “Nothing.”

“Figures. And unless Ah’m rememberin’ wrong, this was the only way onwards from those stairs.” She leaned out again, watching the doorway.

“We need a way inside without being seen.”

“That’s only a problem if they’re watchin’ the doorway.”

“A distraction?”

Rose nodded. “A diversion. Course, they’re gonna be on the look out for us.”

“What about a disguise? So they don’t notice us?”

Rose cocked an eyebrow. “As what? A pile of books? Or do you have something better in those bags?” When Daring started grinning, Rose stomped her hoof. “No! No. They would absolutely see a pile of books wandering around. And how would we make a book costume anyways?”

Daring’s smile faded. “I’m sure I’ve done it before. Alright, what’s your bright idea?”

“If we can get the guards out here, maybe we can slip in behind them, and get inside before anypony else notices.” Rose smiled. “I’ve got a plan.”

Rose was pleased with her plan. Mostly. They had to assume Cairo knew they were coming, and that he was waiting for them—she was surprised Cairo hadn’t trapped the hallway—but not that he knew where they were. If Cairo did know where they were—if he was watching them—then he’d just come out and catch them himself, right?

So Cairo would have guards ready for anything and eager to find them. Any sign of Rose and Daring, and the guards would come running. All Rose and Daring had to do was stay hidden as the guards ran past.

Hence Rose dangling precariously high above the ground.

“They’ll have torches,” Daring had reminded her. “They won’t just run blindly down the hall at the first sign of trouble. They’ll be looking for us. Even if we crouch behind the pillars and stay very quiet, they’ll see us.”

“Ah thought you said hired muscle wasn’t smart.”

“They’re only ever smart enough to make things worse.”

But they wouldn’t be as likely to look up, Rose had reasoned, and so was clutching herself to the face of the pillar, her hooves dug in as deep into the pockmarks as possible, trying to pretend that the ground was still right below her hooves, that if she wanted she could just hop down, that even if she fell it wasn’t too far . . .

“This is a terrible idea,” she muttered, head turned to the side and her eyes fixed horizontal. Behind her was the entrance they’d run through, while ahead on the other side of the pillar was the chamber full of Cairo’s guards.

Daring hovered right beside her, with a clear line down the hallway and a mouldy book in her hoof. “Yeah, this time I gotta agree,” she laughed quietly. “You’re just full of them tonight.”

“Shaddup. You gonna do it or what?”

“Just waiting for the right moment. I wanna bean one on the head.”

“Just—just throw the thing already!” She could feel her right forehoof slipping, and reached for another hold. Her left forehoof had practically nowhere to grab.

Daring sighed, wound her foreleg back, and threw the book. Rose tilted her head to watch. The book sailed through the air, quickly fading into the darkness.

Daring grunted. “Damn. I can’t see—Whoops!”

The sound of a book slapping against a pony’s barrel echoed through the hallway. Rose tilted to the side, out of sight, and Daring floated in behind her, as shouting erupted from the far room. Soon lights were bouncing through the hallway.

“Uh-oh,” Daring muttered. “They’ve got a Pegasus with them. Don’t move,” she whispered, grabbing onto the pillar beside Rose and holding herself to the wall.

“I wasn’t gonna!” Rose hissed.

The sounds of hoofsteps slapping against the stone grew closer and closer, along with persistent wingbeats stirring the otherwise dead air. Rose chanced a glance out the side of the pillar. Two ponies were racing along the tunnel, a Pegasus in the air and an Earth Pony on the ground, keeping impeccable pace with each other.

After the first few pillars, once they were sure the intruders weren’t about to knock their faces in, they slowed and began inspecting behind each pillar. Daring nudged her with a stupid smirk. Rose scowled.

The Pegasus was floating above and ahead of the other pony, though still slightly lower than Rose and Daring were hanging. They might pass right underneath, after which Rose could slowly make her way down and sneak down the rest of the hallway—assuming she didn’t fall, or make any noise whatsoever getting down.

It felt like hours, hanging in place, and Rose’s hooves and legs started to complain; then it was no time at all, and the two minions were right there, and she had no plan—

The Pegasus flew underneath them, scanning the spaces between the pillars, while the Earth Pony kept a bit behind, torch high, peering into the piles of books in the corners. Rose smirked and gave Daring a nudge, knowing Daring couldn’t respond without giving up their ridiculous hiding spot. Daring nudged back, shifting Rose’s weight ever so slightly. Rose’s left forehoof slipped and she scrambled to keep her balance, shoving a hoofful of dust free.

The Earth Pony paused, ears flicking upwards. Rose gulped. The pony held up his torch with a hoof and squinted into the darkness.

Daring growled, “Aw, ponyfeathers!” and kicked off of the wall.

“Above us!” the Earth Pony growled.

The Pegasus was already turning, torch held high, just in time to catch a hoof to the gut. Daring and the Pegasus guard tumbled, grunting and yelling.

The other guard grabbed his torch in his mouth and took off after them. Rose judged her height and his speed, leaned to the side, then threw herself out into the hall. Suddenly the ground was rushing up at her, way faster than she’d expected. She clenched her jaw shut, trying to keep from yelling, and aimed.

The Earth Pony caught the motion and looked up, eyes widening just as Rose’s hooves connected with his shoulders. They tumbled unceremoniously in a large pile of crumbling books. Rose rolled and only barely made it back onto her hooves before a large hoof kicked right where she’d landed. She spun and found herself face-to-neck with the hulking stallion Earth Pony, far larger than she’d guessed—Cairo clearly didn’t mess around with muscle. She ducked, leaning forward and to the side, just as he swung. His forehoof passed her withers so closely she felt it in her mane.

She leapt past him, compressed her weight forward onto her forehooves, and sprung her hindlegs back at him, all her forward momentum transferred into those powerful legs. She caught him in the barrel as he turned, sending him flying backwards with a surprised grunt. With all her weight now on her forelegs she tucked her head and rolled forward, up onto all fours with a leap.

Motion above her. Rose looked up just in time to see Daring and the Pegasus falling right at her. She grabbed for her hat and ducked, turning to follow them as they barrelled towards the ground. Daring pulled up; the guard Pegasus continued in a straight line and bowled into the Earth Pony, sending them both end-over-end into the wall.

“C’mon!” Daring said, hurrying ahead. Rose ran after her.

“What now?” Rose panted, looking over her shoulder. The two ponies were down for the count.

“They clearly didn’t hear anything,” Daring reasoned, “or else we’d be surrounded by Cairo and his goons.”

“But them missing ain’t gonna go unnoticed for long.”

“Right. We still gotta get inside. If we can sneak in quickly and then find someplace hidden, we can wait for the rest of the guards to leave and investigate. Then we grab the Tome, rescue Midnight, and escape.”

“Lotta holes in that plan.”

“You got anything better?”

Rose didn’t. Listening for any approaching ponies, they made their way to the entrance and crouched on either side—Rose on the left, and Daring on the right. The doorway was narrower than the hall and offered some cover. From this close Rose could feel the warmth from lit torches, and smell burning lantern oil. She could hear hoofsteps on the inside, but couldn’t tell how many ponies there were. For all she knew there was a glowing purple horn right around the corner ready to drill a hole clean through her the moment she showed her face. So she couldn’t look directly through the door, unless she wanted anypony looking outside to see her bright face in front of the black hallway, but from her angle she could see down the right side behind Daring’s hiding spot. Daring mirrored her view, checking behind Rose, then whispered, “Hurry down the outside. I’ll watch your back.”

“Try not to stare too hard,” Rose said.

Daring grinned, and Rose found she was grinning too. Daring’s enthusiasm was infectious. Rose checked again, saw nopony, and nodded. Heart thumping, and fully expecting a rock-hard hoof or a brilliant purple bolt to slam into her face, she slid around the doorframe and slunk to the left.

Inside was like a late summer afternoon compared to the damp, chilled tunnel. Suddenly she was awash in brilliant warm colors, and she had to squint just to see. At first she could only make out walls and the floor, and brilliant orange lights around her. Then she found a low wall and ducked into its shade, and looked back and forth. She could see Daring watching her from the other side of the doorway.

No other ponies in sight, but she could hear them talking over the sounds of several large fires burning around the chamber. Facing to the left from the way she’d entered, she moved out of the way and waved Daring inside, careful to keep her hat tight to her head and not above the edge of the low wall.

As her eyes adjusted to the bright light Rose could make out more of the room. The low wall to her right blocked her view of the center of the room, but she could see that the room was circular, and the wall curved ahead to the right. She kept low and followed the curving walkway between the wall and the cover beside her. Daring was silent enough that without checking over her shoulder every few moments Rose couldn’t even tell she was there.

Rose continued until the low wall she was using for cover ended rather abruptly. She pressed up against the edge and listened for noises other than her own thudding heart, waited to be sure, then darted her head out for a quick look. Only when she’d ducked her head back did the view she’d taken register.

Books—and the barrel of a pony. She clamped her hoof over her mouth before she could gasp and pressed back under cover. She could hear her own heart hammering in place, and she was certain the pony could as well. She made eye contact with Daring behind her, but Daring was already flat on the floor, carefully shoving books out of the way.

The books were everywhere: small piles along the floor, bunches against the walls, and stacks towering unevenly into the darkness, defying gravity and balance. The lighting in the room came from brightly burning books atop large braziers, with some sort of magic keeping those fires from spreading to other books—otherwise the whole room would be already up in flames. Even the low wall beside her was a bookshelf, she realized with a start.

She waited another moment, but the pony either hadn’t seen her or was being very clever. She chanced another quick glance. The pony, an Earth Pony mare, was walking in the direction of the entrance. Rose pulled back and looked towards the middle of the room. There the floor was recessed, a large circular section two steps lower than the rest of it. It and the floor around it had been cleared of books, leaving large piles like statues guarding the center. At the top of the room, furthest from the entrance, a low, long table of blackened glass stood shimmering gold in the torchlight.

Lying on her side atop the table was Midnight, with a heavy looking anklet-and-chain holding her in place. She was partially obscured by a large, brutish looking Earth Pony stallion, but from her face Rose could tell Midnight was unconscious.

“Got her,” Rose whispered, quickly checking to see that Daring was still with her. The crackling fires gave enough low noise to mask her voice. “A beast of an Earth Pony guardin’ her. And a mare Earth Pony heading the other way. Maybe more.” She peered between the books separating her from the patrol on the other side. “Ah think the guards’ll see us if we keep crawlin’ forward.”

“We can’t just hide forever.” Daring tilted her head to the side and back, cracking her neck. “But we do it smart. Quiet. One at a time.”

Rose nodded. “Plan B?”

Daring’s grin got a little wider, and she quickly checked the position of the other guard. “Follow me.” Daring turned and crawled back the way they’d come. Rose followed behind Daring, keeping low to the ground with the room curving ahead to the left, and checked on the mare’s progress. The minion stopped for a moment, looking back down towards the center of the chamber at the altar at the head. Rose urged Daring forward and they pushed ahead.

Daring reached another gap and whispered, “We need to surprise her. Give me a shove when she’s right beside you.”

Wondering exactly what Daring was going to do, Rose nodded, slid back, and peered through a gap between two books in the shelf beside her. She could see the legs of the patrolling pony approaching. Three meters. Daring was muttering to herself, looking ahead and moving her forelegs through a particular motion over and over. Two meters. Her wings were quivering and her ears were flat against her head. One meter. She readied her hoof.

Now! Rose shoved at Daring’s rump. Holding the shelf beside her, Daring sprung forward and pulled herself around the edge. The last Rose saw of Daring was her tail flicking out and away, then she heard muffled grunting and the thumping of flesh on flesh. Rose scrambled forward and skidded around the edge, and her jaw dropped.

Daring had swung around the pony and, before the mare could react, had let go of the shelf, reached around her neck with the crook of her knee, and hopped atop her back, straddling her and putting her in a rear naked choke. The mare had maybe five seconds before she passed out. Eyes bulging and face turning red, she tilted to the side and crashed them both into another bookshelf, trying to dislodge Daring, but Daring had the hoof of her business foreleg under her other armpit, holding herself in place like a pretzel. The pony staggered and collapsed, and Daring had to free her forelegs and jump to avoid being crushed.

Rose rushed out and checked the Earth Pony. Her chest rose and fell reassuringly, but she was otherwise motionless and dead to the world. Rose stared at Daring. “Since when . . . ?”

“Puh-lease. It’s not my first rodeo.”

Rose looked from the unconscious pony to Daring and back. “Alright.” She tried to catch her breath, and asked, “Do you suppose we’ve been—”

A heavy roar slammed into them, knocking Rose forward over the snoozing pony. Daring absorbed the sudden force better, but only before being struck by a particularly nasty-looking stick that whistled when swung. Daring spun, cradling her foreleg as her wings twisted back and forth to keep her in the air.

Rose followed the stick back to its owner. A lithe Pegasus stallion soared overhead, circling for another hit. “Look out!” Rose cried.

“Shit! Where did you come from?” Daring demanded, shrugging off her saddlebags and flapping hard for altitude.

The Pegasus swooped in again, stick held in both forehooves. It was easily as long as Daring’s wingspan; Daring was going to have to get creative if she wanted to get within reach of the other pony without getting seriously hurt.

Daring spun towards the Pegasus and dove, aiming low. The Pegasus followed suit and dropped towards her. Daring kept going straight, even as Rose found herself leaning to the side to get Daring to turn. The other Pegasus wasn’t going to chicken out—not with the reach advantage. Daring seemed to reach the same conclusion just as the Pegasus swung his stick, and she banked sharply to the side. The Pegasus whirled around and followed as Daring struggled to gain altitude.

Rose dropped her gaze to the ground, checking that the brute wasn’t sneaking up behind her. Obviously he knew what was going on, but there was no sign of him. Rose looked at the nearby bookcases, wondering how high she could jump. Just how she was supposed to help Daring when the two Pegasi were fighting high above her head?

Daring pulled into a tight loop and flew straight back at the Pegasus. The stick swung in a tight arc toward her. She folder her wings for a split second, dropping just underneath the Pegasus, and twisted to kick at his gut, but the Pegasus was already slipping sideways. He sliced his stick through the air and knocked Daring in the back.

She cried out and tumbled, pulling out of her fall at the last moment, and wove between a pair of towering book spires. The Pegasus took the long way around; Daring spun in place and kept the books between her and the Pegasus, hoping to lose him.

For a moment Rose couldn’t see the Pegasus on the other side of the books; then with a roar the books exploded outward, showering around Daring. Daring yelped and rolled as heavy tomes rained down around her, knocking her wings aside even as she dodged and weaved around the Pegasus’ weapon.

She turned and raced towards Rose, hoping to lure the Pegasus back towards the middle, but he hung back, high enough now that he was hard to spot against the dark ceiling. He wasn’t going to risk flying within range of Rose, apparently.

“Get ready!” Daring yelled.

Get ready? “For what?” Rose yelled, double checking that the other minion was still guarding Midnight. Daring didn’t answer, though; she turned to face the Pegasus and started climbing. The Pegasus swung around and faced her.

Daring pulled up, higher and straighter but slower and slower. Rose knew Daring was close to stalling, even with her innate Pegasus Magic.

The Pegasus rushed towards her, stick held firm in both hooves.

Daring stopped, hovering briefly in midair.

Rose’s hair stood on end and she shivered. Her wingstorm? But Daring was still far too low for that—

Daring barked a yell loud enough for Rose to hear it, all the way on the ground; then a roar filled the ceiling. Her wingstorm erupted from the very tips of her feathers, crackling with lightning and bursting with thunder. Books fell and shelves tipped over in a wide arc in front of her. The Pegasus was knocked from the sky and tumbled, but at that distance the storm had spread out enough and he caught himself.

Daring, though, plummeted backwards towards the ground, having spent most of her magic. Her wings twitched and flicked, trying to catch some air to stabilize her. Rose gasped and ran towards her, but with the debris of books and paper strewn about, blocking her path, she was sure she wasn’t going to reach Daring in time to catch her. And the Pegasus, having spotted an opportunity, folded his wings and dove right for where Daring was going to crash.

“No!” Rose cried out. “Look out!”

“You look out!” Daring yelled. She twisted until she was falling head first, and flared her wings. Instantly her fall became a dive, and she curved hard into forward motion, aiming right for Rose. Rose’s eyes went wide and she scrambled back.

“Now!” Daring yelled, waving her forelegs in a circle, and Rose understood.

Daring raced overhead, so low she nearly blasted Rose off her hooves. The Pegasus followed, easily going twice her speed.

Rose flicked her tail in a complicated motion that even she didn’t understand fully, and swung the lasso right into the Pegasus’ path.

Suddenly Rose was wrenched painfully backwards, and dug her hooves into the ground, skidding to a stop. With the rope tight around his barrel, holding his wings flat, the Pegasus slammed into the ground. Before he could even yelp Rose was on him, wrapping the rope around his legs, quickly hogtying him in place. The Pegasus grunted and swore, and Rose smirked, feeling pretty helpful.

Rose turned to face the brute guarding Midnight. He stood with his hooves spread slightly, in a practiced defensive posture. He was easily twice as large as she was, towering over the tiny Unicorn lying prone on the altar, and was waiting for Rose to make the first move—either he was under strict orders to not leave Midnight’s side, or he was incredibly confident that he could overpower Rose. His expression was composed, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips, like he was excited.

Rose rolled her shoulder and cracked her neck, then slid her forehoof across the ground. “Hey, asshole. Do you know who Ah am?”

His grin spread, and he answered, “Eeyup.”

“And mah friend?”

“Of course,” he said with a sneer.

Rose nodded. “And do you know where she is?”

The stallion paused, then his eyes opened wide as he heard the sound of flapping wings. He looked up.

A heavy-sounding book stuck him right between the eyes. The stallion crumpled, his legs going limp. He was out cold, groaning and breathing slowly but otherwise dead to the world. The chamber was silent again, save for the fires crackling and sputtering. Rose looked left and right. No other guards, no raised voices, no bolts of magic shooting at them. Rose panted, trying to release some of her excess energy. Her head was ringing, and it felt like her tail had been nearly ripped from her dock.

Daring hovered beside her and nudged her shoulder. “Check on Midnight,” she said, before floating back towards the mess of books.

Rose nodded and hurried over. Midnight was breathing, but unconscious, lying on her side with her injured leg tucked in tight. There was dirt and a scratch of blood over her cutie mark. Her shoulder was scorched. She looked more ragged than before, somehow. One end of the metal chain was attached to the wall, and the other to the heavy anklet around her injured hindleg. An experimental tug showed that it was quite solidly attached.

“What did he do to you?” she whispered.

The table itself was a solid black stone of some sort. Rose traced the path of the chain to the point where it crossed up and onto the surface of the table, turned, and shattered the chain on the edge with a powerful kick. The table rang out with the force of the blast.

“Daring, Ah need your help grabbing Midnight. She’s hurt bad.”

“One moment!” Daring called back, digging into a large pile of books.

“What—Daring, forget the Tome. We’ve gotta go!”

“No way. It’s here somewhere!”

“We’re getting Midnight out of here. She’s hurt!”

“Yeah, but so will everypony else be if Cairo gets his hooves on the Tome of Shadows.”

Rose fought the urge to swear. “You said he wouldn’t use it!”

“I dunno, he might accidentally trigger some dark spell, or lose control of the Tome—”

“That could happen to us, too!” She blinked. “Yer not looking for the Tome, you just want yer notebook!”

Daring whirled around and glared at Rose. “Yeah? So what if I am? What if Cairo had stolen your dad’s hat?”

“Ah’d gladly give Cairo mah hat if it meant rescuin’ another pony. It’s a hat!”

“But your hat won’t help us escape this tomb!” Daring argued.

“Fine. Grab your notebook,” Rose said simply, waving at the piles and piles of books. “I’ll wait.”

Daring turned and craned her head up, her eyes tracing the spires of books. “It could be any of them,” she muttered.

Rose sighed. “Cairo’s obviously got yer notebook—Ah’m sure of it—and the only way we get it back is to steal it. And we’d never find the Tome in this mess.” She paused. “Ah don’t like leavin’ them with him any more than you do. But we can’t fight him like this, and even if we could, it’d be with Midnight in the middle.”

Daring looked from Rose to Midnight, to the piles of books scattered across the floor.

“Please?” Rose asked.

“Yeah,” Daring said, nose wrinkled in disgust. “Whatever.” She looked Rose in the eye. “But if Cairo uses the Tome and raises an army of Shadow Ponies to take over the world, it’s totally on you.”

“Duly noted,” Rose said, rolling her eyes. “Help me get her up. Once we got her secured we can wrap around the side and make it out the tunnel.”

Rose stood beside the table and crouched, bringing her back in line with the gleaming black surface. Daring leapt over to the other side and hesitantly pressed against Midnight’s shoulder.

Midnight stirred. “What’s going on?” she grumbled, almost immediately curling in on herself as her injuries made themselves known.

“Don’t you worry, Sugarcube,” Rose said gently. “We’re gonna getcha out of here.”

“Where’s Cairo?” Midnight asked. She lifted her head up, trying to look around. She was pale in the fire light, and her mane was a tangled mess.

Daring opened her mouth to say something.

A magically amplified, deeply sarcastic laugh echoed through the hallway and into the chamber. Cairo.

Rose’s gut plummeted. She’d figured she’d have more time, somehow. Rose whirled around and looked to the front of the chamber, but there was no pony there.

“Miss Gambit! Miss Do!” the voice called out. “I am so happy the two of you have decided to join us. Miss Oil and I were worried you’d given up.”

Rose snarled, resisting the urge to kick something, and said, “He knows we’re here, but Ah don’t think he can see or hear us. Otherwise he’d be knockin’ us around. Gotta be down the tunnel.”

“You sure?” Daring asked, eyeing the entrance.

“Just help me get her on my back.”

“Then what? We can’t take the tunnel if he’s there.”

“Ah don’t know!” Rose cried. “Ah don’t have all the answers! But Ah sure as hay am not about to leave her.” She turned to level her gaze at Daring.

“Got it,” Daring said, and carefully placed her hooves on Midnight. “Sorry. This is gonna hurt.” She started pushing.

Midnight held her breath for a full few seconds before crying in pain. “Ow! Sweet Sisters! Ow!”

“Sorry sorry sorry!” Daring pleaded, shoving her to the edge of the table.

“C’mon, Midnight. Grab on. You can do it!” Rose said.

Midnight reached around Rose’s withers and pulled. With Daring’s help she managed to heave her weight onto Rose, forelegs and head off one side and hindlegs and rump off the other. She released Rose’s withers and gasped. Rose winced. Midnight was shivering, her body cold and clammy, with dirt and sweat in her coat—she was in a bad way.

Cairo’s voice echoed through the chamber, louder this time.

“All three of you will play a very important role in the ceremony, and I couldn’t have asked for a better cast.”

Rose rolled her eyes and looked at Daring. “Ok, Daring. Yer the expert. Where would you put a secret exit?”

Daring looked over the room. “I guess I’d put in a backdoor.”

“No . . . ” Midnight groaned, shaking her head. “Not the back. The walls are rigged to collapse.”

“How in Equestria d’ya know that?” Rose asked.

Cairo interrupted Midnight. “Midnight Oil: the wise, cunning Unicorn.”

Midnight groaned, grabbing at her head. After a moment she panted, “Those runes are my life. I can read them in my sleep. You gotta go down the middle.”

“Yeah, right,” Daring scoffed. “The obvious route? There’s no way that’s safe.”

“Cairo carried me in here and walked all over the center. It’s safe. I’m surprised you guys didn’t trip one of the traps on your way in.”

Daring puffed out her chest. “Well, I am—”

“Daring Do: the agile, proud Pegasus.”

Daring shrank slightly, and muttered, “No way he can’t hear us. He’s close.”

Midnight continued, “Besides, you wouldn’t make it down the tunnel. There’s a—”

“Secret exit?” Daring asked excitedly.

“—a cage lock that keeps Shadow Magic out if the priests needed to escape. Not a secret exit, per se, but . . . well, I guess you could say it was secret. None of the other citizens knew what went on—”

“Can we just go?” Rose asked over her shoulder.

“And Rose Gambit: the tough, dependable Earth Pony.” His voice was noticeably louder.

Rose grumbled and glared at the entrance. “Y’ever get the feeling Earth Ponies are an afterthought?”

“Sure,” Daring shrugged.

“That way,” Midnight said, pointing weakly with her hoof. In the center of the chamber, large piles of books had been pushed to the sides, revealing a recessed circle large enough for a half dozen or so ponies to crowd within. “The floor folds into a stairwell that leads down and away from the sacrificial chamber.”

Rose checked one last time that Midnight wasn’t about to fall off, then carefully made her way down the dais and towards the recessed circle in the center, watching for loose books strewn in the way. The closer to the center she walked the warmer the chamber got, as more and more book-braziers lined up into view. The wash from Daring’s wings was a welcome breeze in the thick, oily air.

Cairo’s laughter boomed through the chamber. Near the center his voice seemed to bounce at Rose from all directions. She reached up to press her hat tighter to her forehead and stepped down into the recession at the center of the room. The entrance was in view, right ahead, inviting and promising. If Cairo was standing anywhere in the tunnel, there was no way Rose could hide from him. As soon as he could see her . . .

Trying not to rush Midnight, she asked, “What now? How do we open the hatch?” She could see different sections in the ground, and runes carved into circles around the perimeter. “A pressure plate? Lever?”

“It’s triggered with magic. The priests would’ve used it if anything went wrong. Hold on . . . ”

A soft yellow glow painted the floor around Rose’s hooves, and she could feel a telltale prickling all over her coat. She gulped but stood still, waiting.

Midnight’s magic flared, and there was a thud below them. “Uh . . . we’re not gonna fall, are we?” Rose asked, watching the floor beneath her hooves. Trickles of magic traced the grooves in the stonework, before fizzling out with a zapping sound.

“No, it’s—I think it’s stuck. We’re not heavy enough.”

Rose looked up. “Daring! We need more weight!”

Daring flew a tight circle above them, searching one last time for Cairo or his guards, then landed beside Rose. Another mechanical clunk rattled the ground. The prickling, itchy intensified, enough that Rose wanted to furiously scratch herself.

A ring of tiny circles surrounding the recession flashed a brilliant yellow, and with a crack they started pushing upwards into metal bars, growing like fast shoots of bamboo. As they slid up with a rough squeaking sound, they curved inwards.

“What? Hey!” Daring cried, leaping off the ground. “Stop, you’re gonna trap us!”

“No! Don’t! You’ll get stuck outside the lock!” Midnight cried.

“Oh, c’mon!” Daring scoffed. “There’s no way this is right.”

Rose looked over her shoulder. Midnight’s face was scrunched up with effort, like she was carrying the weight of the room itself itself on her horn. Midnight caught Rose’s challenging stare and her face softened.

“Trust me,” Midnight pleaded. “Or would you rather stay with them?”

Rose looked up at Daring.

Daring floated just out of reach and stared at them with a gobsmacked expression on her face. “Really? After Celestia-knows-how many times she’s stood up for him? After she begged him to take her back? Hey, how about when she tried to zap us with that snapstone?”

“I’m sorry!” Midnight cried, burying her face in her hooves. “I was scared, okay?”

“It’s a trick!” Daring yelled. “There’s probably a way out behind that altar or something. Don’t listen to her, Rose!”

“Land sakes!” Rose clenched her eyes shut and stomped her hoof. Cairo’s voice echoed through the chamber again, from so close there was no way he couldn’t see them, but she tried to tune it out. Neither he nor Daring was being helpful.

Deep breath. Either Midnight’s trying to trap us in a birdcage, or she’s trying to get us to safety. Just pick one.

Rose opened her eyes and stared at the ground. There were lines drawn from the edge of the recession towards the center, at which point there was a smaller circle. It looked like the corolla of a large flower made of very straight petals.

She tilted her head and leaned closer, ignoring Midnight’s protests and Daring’s accusations. What had Midnight said before?

A stairwell that folds down . . . Her eyes shot open. “Daring! Git yer ass down here! It’s a spiral staircase!”

Midnight groaned. “I’ve been trying—”

“You shut yer mouth and get us a way out of here,” Rose snapped, looking over her shoulder to glare at her. “And if this is a trap, you’ll be trapped in here with us.”

“I swear!” Midnight looked up at Daring. “Daring Do, please! We don’t have much time! He’s almost here.”

Daring slumped helplessly and touched down beside Rose and Midnight. The ground shifted, then dropped an inch. The bars flashed yellow and started growing up and inwards again. Rose could feel the tremor of some large mechanism underhoof.

“Almost there!” Midnight grunted. The metal bars had curved nearly up and over their heads. Suddenly Midnight’s plan made sense: once the bars joined together not even the Pegasus could get to them, and they could safely use the secret passage without being followed. She just had to get them closed first, and open the stairs below.

Motion ahead caught Rose’s attention. Standing at the entrance to the chamber was Cairo, flanked by the Pegasus and Earth Pony minions they’d fought in the hallway. They did not look happy to see Rose and Daring again. Cairo muttered something to them, and the two guards hurried off to check up on the three still in the room.

“Here goes nothing,” Daring muttered.

“Miss Oil,” Cairo said, stepping down towards the dais. “What are you doing?”

“She’s stopping you!” Rose said, allowing a sneer to slide over her mouth.

Cairo shook his head, and his horn sparkled. “I highly doubt that.”

The bars glowed purple and froze. Cairo’s magic descended like a hoof fishing into a jar and wrapped around Midnight’s barrel.

“No! Don’t you dare!” Rose yelled, whirling around and reaching for Midnight, but Cairo was already lifting her up towards the opening.

Daring leapt into the air and grabbed around Midnight’s hindhoof. Midnight cried out in pain and Daring let go with a start.

Rose dropped her saddlebags and reached inside, looking for her lasso. “No!” she cried. Still tied around the Pegasus!

They watched helplessly as Cairo floated Midnight up and out of the cage. The bars slammed shut right behind her and, with a flash that hurt Rose’s eyes, welded themselves shut.

Rose blinked the flare from her vision and watched as Midnight was lowered gently to the ground. Cairo towered over her and said something Rose couldn’t hear, then tendrils of magic stretched from his horn and stabbed into her leg. Midnight wailed.

“No!” Rose yelled, reaching through the bars. “You leave her alone!”

Cairo ignored Rose, and after a few moments his horn faded. Midnight lay still for a few breaths, then her horn took over, wrapping yellow magic around her injured leg. She struggled to all fours and turned to face Cairo. He leaned close and whispered something. Midnight nodded slowly, then reached up, wrapped her foreleg around his neck, and hugged him close.

“What the actual fuck?” Rose muttered, feeling the room spin under her hooves.

Daring flew up and grabbed at the bars. “Midnight! You whorse!” she spat, rattling their cage. “We trusted you! We helped you! Why are you doing this?”

“Shut up, Daring,” Midnight sneered. “I hate hearing you whine.”

Rose’s jaw dropped.

Midnight turned and led Cairo and his minions—Her minions?—from the chamber, leaving Daring and Rose on their own.

Daring took a deep breath, released her grip on the bars, and sauntered back to stand beside Rose.

“Well, I totally saw that coming,” she said finally.

“Argh!” Rose hollered, smacking her.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either Betrayal or Don't Fuck with Sparkles, will be posted in two weeks. Am I audacious enough to name it that?

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 13: Betrayal

Daring sat quietly in the center of the cage and watched Rose fiddle with the locked hatch at the front. The contents of their saddlebags were spread out around her, and though Rose was even more stubborn than Daring, Daring didn’t think there’d be anything that she could use as a lockpick.

She was about to tell Rose as much when Rose jumped back and yelled, “Ha!”

Daring scrambled over. “You got it?” she asked in wonder.

Rose shook her head and rubbed her hoof. Purple sparks danced over the lock.

Daring slumped. “Oh.”

Rose looked betrayed. She looked angry. She looked like she was about to drop character. She opened her mouth—

“Daring Do!” Midnight yelled from the other side of the room. “Rose Gambit!”

Midnight Oil approached the front of the chamber. She had something suspended in front of her, and her magic’s purple glow illuminated a weary but fierce face. Next was Cairo, looking as smug as ever but not saying a word over his mistress. A group of minions, Earth Ponies and Pegasi both, followed behind, bathed in the firelight. Their eyes were all glowing purple, Daring realized, and she wondered if Midnight had enchanted them—though several were giving her dirty looks.

Daring and Rose backed up against the rear of their cage.

“Daring? What do we do?” Rose asked.

“We gotta find a way out of this cage, somehow,” Daring said, watching the other ponies. Half of the minions split off to one side, circling the cage while they kept to the edge, and the others left Midnight and Cairo behind and continued around to meet up at the rear. Soon their cage was completely surrounded by Midnight’s minions.

“Don’t worry,” Daring continued. “There’s always a way out. I mean, we’re not gonna just walk out of this cage, but, yeah. That’s how these things work.”

“Is getting betrayed by the Princess in peril also part of how things work?”

Daring tilted her head. “Actually, sometimes.”

Midnight left Cairo and walked to the cage, staying well out of reach of Daring and Rose. Her face was lit by highlights from her glowing horn and the ball of magic held above her. Daring squinted, trying to see past the turbulent shimmer. Her notebook!

“Hey! That’s mine!” Daring yelled, throwing herself at the cage and reaching through. “Give it back!”

“It belonged to her mother!” Rose said. “You have no idea how valuable that is to her!”

Midnight scoffed. “Oh, I have some idea.” She held the book in front of her and began flicking through the pages. “There are a number of entries from one Archie Bold, presumably your grandfather, and Susan Strong—your mother, of course, occasionally penned with the help of your father.” She paused to peer at some difficult section. “And so on, and so on, up the line, with perhaps a dozen authors contributing to a wonderful store of knowledge. An extremely valuable heritage, and all of it leads to you, Daring Do.”

She slapped the book shut. “Tell me, do you know who the original owner of this book was? Where it came from? Certainly you’ve been able to determine how old it is.”

Daring scowled.

“No?” Midnight asked, then shrugged. “Then perhaps you know the original purpose of this book? Buried deep in the margins, overwritten by countless other explorers, adventurers, and treasure seekers?”

“Let me guess,” Daring sneered, leaning close enough to feel the tickle from Midnight’s suspension. “It tells you how to use the Tome of Shadows. That’s it, isn’t it? The real reason you had Cairo steal the notebook for you, why you couldn’t just go and get the Tome yourself—you clearly knew the location of the temple. It doesn’t show you how to find the Tome at all.”

Midnight grinned.

Daring’s breath caught. “You already have the Tome, don’t you? You’ve had it all along.” It all made sense! “And you need me to translate something. To show you how to use it, because I’m the only pony who knows how to interpret some cypher hidden in my notebook.”

Daring sat back, looked away, and crossed her forelegs. “Well, you can forget it. I’m not helping you.”

Rose sat beside her. “What she said.”

A small smile threatened to break Daring’s poker face: she got to be brave in the face of her enemies and in front of Rose. They wouldn’t give in without a fight!

The chamber was quiet. Only Daring’s pounding heartbeat, the crackling of several fires, and the hum of Midnight’s suspension broke the silence. Daring waited, then slowly turned to look at the Unicorn.

Midnight was smiling. Her grin was a little off-centered, her mouth open just a little, her eyes wide by just a little too much. Her breathing came in bursts—Oh, Celestia. Tell me she’s not—she was laughing, a laugh that grew louder and harder until she was howling. Midnight’s laughter was just familiar enough to sound creepy. Despite her resolve Daring found herself leaning back, her ears flat against her head and the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end. None of the minions joined in.

Midnight’s laughter grew hoarse and she started coughing, hanging her head and holding a hoof to her chest. Cairo looked like he wanted to help her, but he kept still. Midnight’s suspension flickered and she nearly dropped Daring’s notebook.

Midnight got her breathing under control and lifted her head to look at Daring. Her smile was gone, replaced by a pained grimace. Her eyes blazed with anger. When she spoke, her voice was quiet but powerful.

“You arrogant fool.”

Her horn exploded with light. Daring had to shield her eyes with her foreleg for a moment. A low rumble filled the room, accompanied by a high whine that Daring felt more than she heard.

“You insufferable little know-it-all,” Midnight sneered, shaking the notebook. “You have no idea what’s in this book. You are oblivious to its origins. You have relied on the knowledge and skills of others to claim your success, but have contributed only boasts and self gratification in return. You don’t deserve your birthright.”

The minions began chanting.

“Your ancestors would be ashamed.”

Daring stared at her, defiant. Midnight had no idea what she was talking about. Daring had upheld the family legacy over and over again, rediscovering lost cities of stone and forgotten treasures of gold.

Rose stood beside Daring and put a hoof over her shoulder.

Daring had rescued her colleagues from digs gone wrong and saved foals from villains gone mad. She’d toiled tirelessly in libraries and museums. Why, Daring’s successes were known across the world!

“Hey,” Rose muttered. “Buck up. You know she’s just tryin’ to get you all riled up.”

Of course she was! Midnight didn’t know anything about Daring Do. She certainly hadn’t read Daring’s notebook very hard if she didn’t see the tediously written and rewritten notes, the hastily scribbled drawings, and the earmarked pages. How could she possibly know anything about Daring? How could she possibly know anything about her parents?

Daring looked away, furiously wiping at her eyes. “You’re wrong,” she muttered, her breath catching. Rose rubbed her shoulder, but Daring shoved her away and glared at Midnight. “They would be proud!”

Midnight snorted, then limped to the front of the chamber, joining in the chanting with her minions. The wind in the chamber picked up, and streams of light arced off of Midnight’s horn, splashing against the walls. Daring and Rose crowded together as far from the spell as possible. The tingling on Daring’s coat was constant, and there was a heaviness in the room. A dead weight settled in her gut.

Midnight was about to seriously ruin their day.

Standing at the front of the chamber, Midnight chanted in harmony with her minions. The volume in the room rose to nearly painful levels, but each syllable felt sublime as it layered atop the others, weaving together simple and complicated spells in satisfying ways.

They reached a climax as Midnight roared, then the chanting ceased. Her voice echoed through the chamber, resonating deep within the stone. At the far side, a spire toppled, spreading flaming books over the ground. The room was thick with the smell of ash and crackling magic, and all that magic needed somewhere to go.

With a flourish Midnight lifted the notebook in front of her, flicked through the pages until she found an appropriate passage, and read aloud:

Midsummer, of the Year 946 of the Solar Monarchy:

We broke camp this morning for what I pray was the last time. In the distance, savage animals wail in hunger. This desolate wasteland is as barren as it is cold, yet still we are hounded. They are after the Amulet, desperate to keep its warmth and light throughout the approaching winter.

Recent misfortunes notwithstanding, Foresight assures us we are heading in the right direction. The crew is beginning to question his special abilities, but it is all too clear that we have no better options. Instead, they crowd near the Amulet in its trunk, desperate like the animals that—

“Why are you reading that junk?” Daring yelled, breaking her concentration. “There’s no secret code in there!” She blinked. “Is there?”

Midnight sneered at her, and returned to the book, flicking through to another section. There were so many varied stories. She could practically taste the experiences penned into the pages:

Day 51

Were nearly at the bottom of this cursed tower, and the rest of the company can feel it. No way we could of guessed just how deep it goes, and we should of brought more food. They keep talking about gold and treasure and how there all gonna retire somewhere tropical, sipping on their maretinis and ogling beach beauties. Some are going to try and sneak off with more than there fair share. Ha! It won’t work. I just hope we make it to the bottom before its too late.

And below that, another entry, then a diagram of some ancient transmutation circle, followed by a torn page and riddles and notes and epitaphs and—Oh, Princess. Midnight shuddered, inhaling pure knowledge.

After a moment she opened her eyes and focused on Daring, keeping the notebook close. “You’re quite right, Daring Do. There’s no secret code in your notebook. Similarly there is no single spell to summon the Tome, as complex of a life form as it is. The Tome is . . . temperamental. Subtle. Indescribable with only a few spells. It must be fed.”

Daring looked torn between the need to understand and the need to get her hooves on her notebook.

“The priests needed a vessel to contain the sacrificial energies, and to transform it into a controllable power source. An almanac served as the first Tome of Shadows, powered by the sacrifice of a young farmer. It was always an Earth Pony, of course, because they didn’t want a fresh, angry Shadow Pegasus escaping. Their warriors could contain a Shadow Pony long enough to satisfy the Tome.”

“A fresh angry . . . Oh, Celestia,” Daring moaned. “They didn’t just sacrifice the farmer. They turned him into a Shadow Pony. The first Shadow Pony.”

Midnight nodded, feeling her lips twist into a grin. “Very good. Shadow Ponies are similar enough to the native shadows to use the magic of one against the other. The Tome absorbed the Shadow Magic of this first sacrifice, leaving it an empty shell, and with that Tome the priests cast their spells, compelling the shadows to leave. Presumably over time that shell could have fed enough to regain its Shadow Pony form, though more than likely it was destroyed by a snapstone during some later battle.”

Rose snarled. “Clearly you’ve never come across an angry Earth Pony, if ya think we’re easier to contain.” She stamped at the ground, pure loathing in her eyes.

“Easier to catch,” Midnight conceded. “But their numbers grew faster than the priests expected, and soon Shadow Ponies threatened their city walls as much as other shadows. The Tome was no longer powerful enough, and one year, again in desperation, they turned to a Pegasus for salvation, hoping its magic would be more powerful. Naturally, it escaped to terrorize the city and its inhabitants. None of their warriors had practiced against threats from above. The Summer Solstice that year was terrible indeed.”

“How did they survive?” Daring asked, her greed for knowledge winning over her anger. “Did they?”

“For a time, they compensated by adding more knowledge to the Tome, choosing quantity over quality. But a regular supply of fresh Shadow Magic keeps the Tome alive; otherwise it withers and dies.”

“So the Tome died, along with the city,” Daring said. “Now it’s just a wrinkled, overused book, and you know how to bring it back to life?”

Midnight nodded.

“So why do you need us? Why do you need my notebook?”

Midnight groaned, exasperated, and explained, “This is no mere notebook. The body of knowledge stored within is unprecedented, even for an adventurer’s notebook; so much so that to read it is to drown. Most of it has been erased and overwritten, traced and scribbled, but it still exists, in the wear and indentations throughout. The what and the when of the knowledge doesn’t matter; what matters is the presence, the quality of that knowledge.”

She flew the notebook up to the cage, just out of Daring’s outstretched forehoof, and taunted, “You tell me. What do I need this wrinkled, overused book for?”

Daring’s forehoof sagged. “No . . . no. No! You can’t do that! It’s all—” She choked, sputtered out, “it’s all I have left of her!” She shook the bars of her cage and yelled, “You’ll kill her!”

Midnight laughed and let Daring struggle until she was exhausted and panting. “It has been centuries since the last expulsion and the Shadow Ponies have grown and evolved. To control them will take a Tome more powerful than any yet summoned in this realm. The leylines will provide raw power. The notebook will provide knowledge. I need only the Shadow Magic to taste. Cairo!”

Cairo snapped to attention.

“If you would, please. We need something more powerful than an Earth Pony,” Midnight said with a smile.

Cairo nodded, and approached the cage. Midnight could practically feel the naked satisfaction oozing out of him, able once and for all to defeat the great Daring Do.

Daring growled and stamped at the ground, wings flared wide. Rose pushed her hat tighter to her head and lowered her stance.

Cairo’s horn illuminated as he grabbed the cage lock.

Midnight shook her head. “Cairo! You misunderstand.”

Cairo whipped around, staring at her, his magic faltering. She wrapped her magic around his limbs just as he tried to step back. His eyes went wide and his knees started shaking. She lifted him up and onto the altar, laid him on his side, and held him still. He grunted and strained, trying to break free of her magic. His horn flashed, shooting bolts at Midnight, but his aim was erratic and her barriers deflected them with ease. Books exploded in the background, sizzling and smoking.

“The priests finally brought about their own downfall trying to sacrifice a Unicorn. You fought it earlier; you know how terrible it is. If you can keep anything of yourself through this next bit, please—don’t forget me. Maybe then this will work.” She leaned over him and kissed him gently.

He grunted and tried to twist away, snorting and panting.

Midnight bowed her head. “Loyal to the end.”

Then she summoned a knife of pure light and stabbed it into his chest.

Rose yelled in horror, as Cairo shrieked in pain. Light poured like blood around the blade, and for a second Cairo bloomed bright from nose to tail; then the natural shadows of the chamber, hidden behind pillars, books, and boulders, shook themselves loose and pounced. Rose clenched her eyes shut and looked away, covering her ears with her hooves, but she couldn’t block his howls of pain. They stretched on and on and grew long and distorted, low and choppy. Soon he had faded to a dull static that she heard more than felt. The blade clattered to the floor; then the chamber was silent.

Rose tasted stone and ash. She’d fallen onto her gut. She lifted her head and carefully peeked at the altar, unsure what she’d see. The shadows were gone. All that remained of Cairo was a black lump on the altar, still and cold. Even Midnight looked wary. It didn’t work?

Rose groaned, “Oh . . . Oh, no. Sweet Mother Faust. She killed him!”

“No. Look,” Daring muttered, staring intently. Her eyes were wide, and she was breathing hard. “Look!”

It was hard to make Cairo out: his edges were blurry and shifting. But there was life. His legs were shuffling, and his chest was rising and falling—slowly, and not much, but he was definitely moving.

Midnight walked up to the altar and leaned her head down next to Cairo’s. Rose couldn’t hear what she whispered, but the effect was immediate. Cairo propped his head up and looked around, then slowly climbed to his hooves. His gazed settled on the cage.

Rose gasped. His eyes had turned into glowing purple dots.

Midnight backed up, stopping a couple meters away and suspending Daring’s notebook in front of her.

The Shadow Unicorn’s ear perked up. It looked away from the cage and slowly turned to face Midnight. Midnight’s face was warm and comforting, like the face of a mother watching her foal take its first steps. The Shadow Unicorn looked at its blackened self, then back at Midnight.

“That’s right. I’m here.” She smiled and opened the notebook towards him.

Rose felt like she was going to be sick.

The Shadow Unicorn seemed to recognise Midnight. Its gaze was piercing and unwavering as it considered the situation. Several seconds ticked by without a sound, and neither of them moved—then its horn illuminated, and without ceremony Midnight was lifted into the air, dangling from her head and quickly choking on whatever magic had wrapped around her neck. Her chest spasmed and worked to get in a breath of air. Her gurgling sounds were disgusting and desperate.

She tilted her head as far forward as she could and shot the notebook with a bolt of magic.

A thunderous wind broke out, scattering flaming books around the room and forcing Rose and Daring to duck low and brace themselves. The Shadow Unicorn’s howling quickly changed to a terrified whinny. Midnight was released and dropped to the ground. The notebook began absorbing the Shadow Unicorn, stretching and tightening the beast until it was a thin black flow of ink spilling into the pages and covering the book itself.

Soon there was nothing left of the Shadow Unicorn except for a pathetic silhouette that slowly slid away from the altar. Once again the chamber grew silent, its peacefulness and the patience of Midnight’s minions at odds with the casual violence she had committed. Rose felt the ground lurch under her.

“You actually did it . . . ” she mumbled.

Midnight struggled to her hooves and held the Tome in front of her, fascinated with the drips of shadow splashing onto the ground. A smile stretched across her face. “I actually did it. It worked!”

“You killed a pony to make a book!” Rose cried.

Midnight turned to face the prisoners, floating the Tome up in front of them. It was unrecognizable: the worn, creased notebook now resembled a spellbook. The light from the fires barely illuminated its surface; a black mist sank down from its bindings, hissing faintly and pooling on the floor in front of the cage. “I didn’t kill a pony to make a book,” she sneered. “I studied for months. I slaved. I fought. And I sacrificed the pony I loved to resurrect the most powerful magic yet seen in this world.”

“But why?” Daring moaned, reaching through the bar, the Tome just out of reach. “That’s not a tome of anything. It’s a notebook. It’s filled with notes. It’s got nothing to do with summoning shadows or controlling an army. It’s my notebook!”

Midnight smiled. “It was your notebook. But in death, your ancestral knowledge will serve a purpose much greater than finding treasure and exploring ruins.”

“Yeah? And what purpose would that be, exactly?” Rose asked.

Laughing, Midnight lifted the Tome back to float in front of her. “Finally, because I’ve been dying to share my evil plans with you,” she sneered. “The Tome has complete authority over all Shadow Magic. Use your imagination.”

Daring sat with a thud, letting her forehead rest against the bars. She stared at the ground, face scrunched up in disgust. Her lip was trembling, and she was blinking back tears.

“Daring . . . ” Rose said, walking towards her and resting a hoof on Daring’s shoulder. Her friend was shaking.

“They never found her. Just her notebook.”

“Ah’m sorry.”

Daring slowly lifted her head, and turned to face Rose. A hardness had filled her eyes. She said, “Whatever Midnight’s got planned . . . We can’t let her use the Tome of Shadows.”

“Ah know,” Rose said. “But what are we gonna do? We have to get to the Tome before we can destroy it, and we don’t even know how to do that.”

“I wasn’t talking about destroying the Tome,” Daring said quietly, holding eye contact.

Rose gulped. “Ah know. But Ah’m not sure I could do it. Couldn’t we just knock her unconscious?”

“And keep her unconscious?” Daring snorted. “You’ve actually killed dozens of minions before, in past adventures.”

Rose stared at her, eyes wide. “Ah—Ah’ve what?”

Daring shrugged. “It probably doesn’t matter. If Midnight was an Earth Pony, or a Pegasus—or if she actually was weak and pathetic . . . but she’s not.”

Rose shook her head. “It’s not like ya to give up. Don’t tell me you’ve never been in this situation before. About to—well, about to be sacrificed?”

Daring took a deep breath. “You mean when it’s not you about to do the killing? I suppose I usually count myself lucky you’re not around to gloat.”

Rose smacked her on the shoulder. “Ah’m serious, Daring Do.”

Daring grinned, but that quickly faded, replaced by a grimace of concentration. “The Tome of Shadows is her weakness. She can’t take over the world without it. If we’re gonna stop her, we need to destroy it.” She pursed her lips. “I just don’t know how.”

“One problem at a time,” Rose said. “Get the Tome. Then we can worry about destroying it.”

She looked to the front of the chamber, watching Midnight read from the Tome. The passage still sounded like another of Daring’s family’s adventures and journal entries. Did Daring still think she could fix it?

“And if we can’t destroy it?” Daring asked suddenly. She was asking for permission.

Rose imagined somepony stealing her Pa’s hat, and corrupting it and everything he stood for—but Midnight was still a living, breathing pony. And it hadn’t been her Pa’s hat. “If there’s no other choice, then Ah guess we kill Midnight.”

The weight of the room shifted as she said it. Kill Midnight, she repeated to herself, trying to figure out how she felt about it. I guess we kill another pony. She knew she meant it. It didn’t matter if Midnight was a murderer or not. If she had the means and the opportunity, and if she needed to, Rose would tear Midnight’s mortal coil loose—to stop her; to save the world; to save Daring and herself. Right?

And from the look on Daring’s face as they held eye contact, Rose knew Daring was wondering the same thing. I hope one of us is strong enough. Rose nodded again.

Something moved around her hooves. She yelped and jerked back, nearly falling on her rump. A silhouette was sliding around the floor of the cage. It didn’t look like the other Shadow Ponies—this was formless and sluggish, like thick molasses, and wasn’t bothering to peel free from the floor.

Cairo!

The silhouette did another lap around her hooves, then travelled towards the front of the cage. A weak, flickering hoof and foreleg emerged from the pool of shadow and reached for the lock. It started rattling, quietly. None of the minions seemed to notice.

“Daring!” Rose hissed, jerking her head in the direction of the lock.

Daring’s eyes went wide. “Don’t look at him. Look at me!”

Rose grabbed Daring and pulled her close. She whispered in Daring’s ear, “We’re only gonna get one shot.” She hoped it looked like they were consoling each other.

“Go for the Tome?”

“That’s all that matters,” Rose agreed. “She’s helpless without it.”

Daring turned and touched their foreheads together. There were streaks across her cheeks, but eyes were blazing. She was shaking with adrenaline. So was Rose. “She wants our magic?” Daring asked. “She’s gonna have to fight for it.”

Rose grinned. “Ready?” she asked.

“Duh. But don’t look too ready. She’ll expect us to be scared.”

Behind her, the cage door clicked, and Cairo’s puddle of shadow slunk out of sight.

Midnight shut the book with a snap and turned to face the adventurers. Buried under a pile of books with enough space to look, Twilight was close enough to both the cage and the altar to see what was going on.

Not that she needed to. Manipulating Midnight as directly as she was, she had access to Midnight’s point of view: sound, smell, and sight. There was a slight echo effect whenever somepony spoke, and occasionally she would mix up her left and her right, but overall the effect was seamless. Both she and Midnight were inhaling the same heated air laced with oily fumes. And if she closed her eyes, she could see out of Midnight’s.

Twilight’s thoughts were Midnight’s words.

“Daring Do!” she cried, then paused. Daring and Rose had both risked their own safety to save Midnight Oil; they’d braved dangers and horrors to retrieve Daring’s notebook; and they’d fought everything Twilight could throw at them, and then some, and had still come out on top. “You’ve been a worthy adversary, but an even greater ally. You kept me safe through the underground, and let nothing stand in the way of rescuing me. For that, you have my gratitude.”

“I can’t eat gratitude,” Daring sneered. “How’s about instead you let us go, and give us the Tome?”

“Ah reckon we’d be about even, then,” Rose agreed.

Midnight set the throbbing Tome on the altar, checked that it wasn’t about to get up and move, then stumbled towards the cage. Unfortunately, Twilight was also sharing Midnight’s sense of pain, and Midnight’s injuries were Twilight’s discomforts.

She stopped about halfway, leaving enough room ahead for two ponies to fight. “Relax. I’m about to release you. Then I promise I’ll introduce you both to the Tome of Shadows.”

She pointed at one of the nameless pony minions standing near the cage, then at the cage door. The minion nodded and approached, stopping within reach of the door. Had the adventurers found a way out yet? This was the thrilling part—when Daring Do would break free of her shackles using some long forgotten item or feature of the room. Even though Daring and Rose had to succeed, Twilight still wanted so much to be the first villain to actually have a working trap that did what it was supposed to—she could be the first competent villain. Her heart pounded. Had she overlooked something? Would Daring effect a surprising escape? Had she made the Tome too hard to break? Even to her it felt heavy.

Don’t get distracted. Daring Do villains should be sinister. “I am grateful, though, so I offer you a choice.”

“Blow me!”

Twilight and Midnight laughed. “The priests never did manage to safely stabilize the Tome of Shadows. In their haste, they failed to realize that an Earth Pony wasn’t enough—naturally, since Earth Magic is too far removed from Shadow Magic. A necessary component to the spell, but not enough.” She narrowed her eyes. “So: You?”

Midnight paused for effect. Daring needed to be unsettled. Twilight readied her illusions. The room dimmed, and behind her the Tome of Shadows pulsed and groaned. Midnight looked at Rose. Opened her mouth to speak. Said—

Daring’s skin tickled.

“Me, or . . . what? Me first?” Daring asked. “Hello?”

Midnight paused, face screwed up in concentration.

Daring peered closer. “What’s going on?” she asked. Midnight wasn’t moving. Her eyes weren’t blinking. Her chest looked still. She was completely frozen. Even her minions had stopped moving.

“C’mon. Now’s our chance!” Rose hissed.

Daring shoved at the cage door, half-expecting some resistance, but it snapped open with a clang that rang through the otherwise still chamber. She leapt out, keeping her eyes on the minions, but they hadn’t even noticed that she was out.

“Grab the Tome, then let’s get out of here!”

“Wait!” Rose called. “Something’s wrong.”

“Duh! She’s in shock or something. It doesn’t matter!”

“No, Daring! Look!” Rose pointed behind Midnight. She’d moved far enough to the side to see around Midnight. Above the altar, throbbing almost too low to hear and hissing a thick black smoke, hovered the Tome of Shadows. A faint black glow surrounded Midnight, dulling the fiery highlighted reflections dancing over her coat.

Daring landed on the altar, behind the Tome. The air around it was cold and humid, even surrounded on all sides by crackling fires. She shrugged off her saddlebags and started nosing through them, looking for something she could wrap around the Tome without touching it.

“She’s in pain!” Rose said. “We’ve gotta help her!”

“What?!” Daring yelled. “After all—”

Midnight’s scream pierced the air, loud and sudden enough that Daring winced, ears flat against her head. Even clamping her hooves over her ears didn’t help. The scream kept going. Midnight screamed and yelled and groaned, then clutched at her chest and slumped to the ground.

“You still wanna leave her?” Rose asked, glaring at Daring.

“Yeah! Kinda. No,” Daring conceded. She hopped down and stood next to Midnight. “Hey! Can you hear us?” she yelled, a little louder than necessary.

Midnight gulped and looked up. Her eyes were unfocused, and she wasn’t quite looking at them. “Daring? Rose?” she asked, then groaned and curled in on herself.

“Are you okay?” Daring asked warily, positive that magic was about to wrap around her and lift her onto the altar.

“I—I don’t think so. Why am I on the floor?” She looked over her shoulder at a pile of books.

Rose frowned. “Uh . . . you fell.”

“No, no, I mean—” She clenched her jaw shut, breathing harshly through her nostrils. Her pale blue coat began to darken to a deep purple as the shadows seeped into it like a stain, spreading from her withers and hooves, down her barrel and up her legs. She writhed on the ground, finally settling on her side.

Rose knelt beside her. “How do we stop it?” she asked.

“Stop . . . stop what?”

“The Tome of Shadows,” Rose said slowly, pointed to the swirling mass of black and purple clouds hovering over the Tome. “How do we stop whatever it’s doin’ to you?”

Midnight’s face screwed up in discomfort, and she twisted around to look behind her. The stain had covered most of her body; in the orange-red firelight she looked nearly black, with just a hint of dark purple. Only the light from her horn had kept any hue at all, and it was sputtering and fading.

Midnight groaned and reached up, trying to touch her neck, or maybe her back. Her shoulder muscles worked and rippled. There was a brief popping sound, like a pony stretching out her limbs. Midnight gasped and arched her back, grabbing at the floor, just as the stain was reaching her cutie mark.

Then a pair of majestic wings erupted from her withers, showering the ground in brilliant purple feathers that seemed to glow on their own.

Dash gasped. The ground pitched sideways under her hooves, and she thought she was falling. She recognized the pony lying in front of her.

“No. Fucking. Way,” Dash whispered.

“Twilight?” Applejack asked.

Twilight shook her head. “No,” she said, in a voice that was instantly familiar. “Not Twilight. Midnight.” But there was no mistaking the star-and-sparkle cutie mark that was burning through Midnight’s late-night candle.

“Uh . . . ” Applejack looked at Dash, then back at Twilight. “What do we do, Twilight?”

Twilight panted, the blue of her disguise mostly gone. No response.

“That’s it, I’m going for the Tome—”

“No!” Applejack barked. “It’s doin’ somethin’ to Twilight. It might do the same to us!”

“It might be killing Twilight!”

“Midnight,” Twilight insisted. “It’s doin’ somethin’ to Midnight.” Twilight pushed herself into a seating position and looked left and right. “Where’s Midnight?”

“Argh!” Dash yelled in frustration, and grabbed Twilight by the shoulders. “Twilight! Snap out of it! You’re not yourself! And if you don’t figure that out, it’s gonna kill you!” She pulled her hoof back, ready to smack some sense into her.

Twilight’s eyes flickered. She looked at Dash, her eyes dancing over Dash’s rainbow-hued mane and tail. At Applejack and her golden mane and green eyes. And over her shoulder, at her wings—wings which were slowly staining black. She pulled free of Dash’s grip and struggled to her hooves, looking like she was about to be sick. “No. I need . . . what do I do?” Twilight clenched her jaw, gulping back nausea.

Dash lowered her hoof. “Is that you, Twilight? Are you . . . uh, are you awake?” she asked nervously. “Because you’re not making a lot of sense and Applejack and I don’t really know what’s going on, and, uh—”

Twilight grunted, and from her horn a ream of parchment exploded outward, covering the ground before her hooves and trailing off into the mess. Dash and Applejack jerked back. The end landed in a bonfire and quickly ignited. Dash tried to read the parchment before it burned but it was so densely covered in writing that she couldn’t make out more than a few words.

“You’re no help at all!” Twilight yelled at the ink-stained checklist, before noticing it was on fire. “Ahh!”

“Uh, Twilight?”

Twilight whirled around, her horn glowing bright. A wall of purple light slammed into the ground between her and the two heroes and stretched up to the ceiling. It raced towards them, scraping books and rocks out of the way, and suddenly Rainbow Dash and Applejack were flung back into the air.

“Whoa!”

“Hey!”

“Stay back!” Twilight yelled.

They were thrown up and over the cage, slamming into the back wall with a pair of oofs. Dash tried to move but the barrier held her firm against the wall. It was hard to get a good breath, and she could barely turn her head. Beside her, Applejack hung upside down, pinned to the wall, hat beside her.

Leaning back against some force Dash couldn’t see, Twilight faced the altar and spread her hooves. The shimmering black surface grew brighter, glowing orange, yellow, then white; then the air above it burst into flames, completely engulfing the Tome and its toxic black smoke. The fire roared, a column of heat that Dash could feel from the other side of the arena, sucking in air like a furnace and making the other fires look like candles. Twilight stood in front of it, her horn blazing and her face thrown into stark contrast. Books and stray pages swirled around her. Twilight was being pulled forward, slowly. The roar was deafening.

“What’s she doing?” Applejack yelled, trying to look.

“Fighting the Tome!” Dash explained. “But I don’t think it’s working!”

Shafts of black magic stabbed out of the inferno, shooting right into Twilight. She jerked back, crying out, then clenched her jaw. Patches of purple magic appeared over her coat and wings in response, blocking the beams and trying to contain the spread of whatever the Tome was still doing to her.

Abruptly the storm ceased and the fire blinked out. Dash worked her jaw, trying to pop her eardrums. A burnt husk hovered above the center of the altar. Crispy black flakes lifted off of the surface of the Tome, leaving the book wholly intact.

“Her fire fizzled out . . . ” Dash narrated, in case Applejack couldn’t see.

Twilight waved her hoof through the air. A flicking sound shot through the chamber. When Dash focused she could see a thin sheet of silver slicing through the Tome, back and forth so fast she couldn’t follow it. The nearby books unlucky enough to be caught exploded in confetti—Dash figured a block of stone would’ve exploded in confetti—but the Tome glued back together in an instant. After a moment, another blade flashed beside the first, and then another. It was a level of violence from Twilight that Dash had never seen, and suddenly she was very glad to be pinned to the far wall. After a few more moments the blades evaporated.

“ . . . and knives don’t cut it . . . ”

Twilight leapt into the air, her flight erratic and clumsy. Dash could feel her tapping into her Pegasus Magic. The air around the Tome shimmered and distorted, and the smoke and haze contracted, squeezing into a sphere. Sheets of colored light flicked up between Twilight and the pulsing, concentrated smoke: a whole rainbow of barriers, each angled like the stem of a boat, separating her from the Tome. Twilight turned her head and covered her ears just before a loud bang ripped through the air, sending books flying outwards, disintegrating nearby rock, and shocking Daring with its sudden volume. The blast shattered nearly all of Twilight’s barriers, stopping only at orange, and she was thrown back, crashing to the floor in the middle. A low rumble echoed over and over through the chamber. Amidst a blizzard of shredded paper and evaporating shards of light the Tome hovered, pristine and tauntingly whole.

“ . . . and exploding the Tome was a bust,” Dash yelled over the ringing in her ears.

Twilight struggled to her hooves, looking around frantically. Her gaze settled on the frozen minions. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could say anything the flickering shadows behind them condensed together, as if invisible lights shone bright before them. The minions twisted and buckled, bursting into blazing embers and leaving Shadow Ponies projected behind them, on walls and bookcases.

Dash gulped. “We are so fucked.”

Twilight fell to her knees. Her chest was heaving and her forelegs were shaking. She hung her head in defeat. She looked so small.

“Twilight!” Dash yelled. “Let us go!”

“We can help you!” Applejack hollered.

Twilight turned slowly. Her face was covered in soot and stained with tears, and her chin was trembling. Her horn was smoking. She briefly made eye contact before looking away in shame.

When she spoke, her voice was meek and stuttering. Dash could barely hear her. “I—I can’t destroy it. The Tome. It’s fighting back. I can’t keep it out. If it gains control of my magic it could cause an Equestria-level Event. I have to—”

She gulped, looking like she was fighting back the urge to scream. “I’m going to crater the region.”

Her barriers blinked out, and Dash and Applejack tumbled to the floor.

“I’m going to bury it. I can only hope a mountain can contain it. If you run . . . you might make it.”

“No way!” Applejack yelled, jumping to her hooves and running towards Twilight. “We ain’t leavin’!”

Twilight stood and faced them with shaky legs. “This isn’t a game anymore. This isn’t one of those ‘we stick together’ moments. You will die if you stay here, and it won’t be some valiant, heroic stand. Please,” she begged. “Don’t do this. I have to stop it now and I don’t think I can with you here.”

“No deal,” Dash insisted, following Applejack.

Twilight stood tall and spread her wings wide. Purple flames of magic burst from the ground around her hooves; soon she was bathed in magic. Torn shreds of paper blew around her.

“As your Princess,” she bellowed, “I order you to save yourselves!”

“Pffft,” Dash scoffed. “Puh-lease, Twilight. We all know you’re not a real princess.”

Twilight blinked, mouth opened to say something. Her fireworks fizzled.

Applejack stared in horror. “Rainbow Dash—you—”

Twilight laughed, hiccuping in the middle. “Go spin on a horn, Dash. You always were the worst. Ohhhh . . . ” she trailed off, groaning. Her horn flickered again, and Dash could smell burnt mane. She looked away and shuddered. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dash reached out and touched her shoulder, joined quickly by Applejack. Twilight smiled. Applejack smiled back.

“Do it,” Applejack said. “Before you lose your nerve.”

Twilight gasped and jerked back, staring at her. “But you’ll be here.”

“We’ll be here with you,” Applejack corrected gently, with a smile that only wavered as she reached around to hug Twilight. “We’ll deal with whatever happens.” Applejack and Dash made eye-contact, and Dash wondered if she looked as terrified as Applejack did.

Twilight nodded. Her horn glowed, then began to darken to a deep purple. Flashes of green and red erupted from the tip of her horn, bubbling and mixing with the purple of her Unicorn Magic. Applejack and Dash backed up a step.

With a pained cry, Twilight shot a bolt at the ceiling. Dash couldn’t quite see where it hit, but she sure felt it. The ground buckled and the ceiling started screeching, a horrible grating wail of rock grinding against rock that dug at Dash’s brain, even after she clamped her hooves over her ears—

Twilight gasped and the screeching stopped. The stains on her coat splashed free, flicking over her like a soapy film on oil. A deep purple glow lit the ground around her. Dash jerked back just as beams of black shot out from the Tome, slamming into Twilight all over her body: into her wings, into her limbs, into her mane and face and horn. She struggled and tried to wrench free as the Tome lifted her into the air, before collapsing and hanging limp from the Tome like a marionette. Her head lolled back, her jaw open like she was trying to devour the sun.

Dash found herself holding Applejack’s hoof as the two watched nervously.

“Did—did it work?” Applejack asked.

“I hope so,” Dash muttered, as motion caught her eye.

Around the chamber, the newly formed Shadow Ponies began to move, filling the chamber with growls of static.

Author's Note

Happy New Year!

Author’s notes are available here. The penultimate chapter, titled either Don't Fuck with Apples or Don't Fuck with Rainbows, will be posted in two weeks. Set your alarms -- with titles like those, it's sure to be an exciting chapter!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 14: Don't F*ck with Apples

Applejack felt the Shadow Ponies before she saw or heard them. A deep chill and an overwhelming ache flooded over her even before she’d registered their screeching. A Shadow Pony leapt into view and raced toward her. She yelped and staggered back, nearly slipping, but by now the rushing shadow was familiar, and she’d had the presence of mind to keep track of her surroundings. Applejack could feel the magic of her Element flowing through her, though that might just have been the final dregs of adrenaline. She ducked and rolled in the other direction, allowing a swiping hoof to sail past.

No time to check on Dash. Ahead of her was another Shadow Pony—one instant it was flat against the wall, then as her point of view lined up suddenly it had depth and was already leaning into a leap—while others were circling around from the rear of the room. There were at least half a dozen of Midnight Oil’s former minions, dancing and streaking across the floor.

She turned and got her back to the nearest bookshelf. A Shadow Pony stared at her from the other side of the cage, then leapt through like it was made of smoke. She waited until she could see the purple of its eyes, then dodged to the side, turned, and swung her forehoof, hitting it in its neck. It stumbled its landing and slammed into the bookshelf, scattering books and scrolls through the air. Its shriek cut through the static and rattled Applejack’s bones.

Something swooped by overhead. Applejack jerked back, teeth bared, but it was Rainbow Dash, rocketing past and aiming straight for a Shadow Pegasus. She was yelling something, but Applejack couldn’t hear her through the static. Her target seemed more acrobatic than Rainbow Dash herself, dodging deftly and turning to strike in one motion. Rainbow Dash hurtled straight at a towering spire of books but veered to the side at the last moment.

A Shadow Pony jumped over a pile of books towards Applejack. She crushed her hat to her head and snarled. Spying the pile on the ground at her hooves, she grabbed a particularly thick-looking book and flung it at the Shadow Pony. The silhouette knocked it aside only to be met with a swinging hoof to its face, followed up with a kick to its chest. It staggered back, and Applejack shoved forward, knocking it off balance and backwards. It stumbled over a loose book, fell onto one of the eternal book fires, and shrieked. The fire roared and the static lessened somewhat.

From behind her came a familiar groan. Twilight hovered over the altar, her head thrown back and her eyes blazing white. Even amid the burning fires and the darting shadows, she glowed with a presence. Her wings had grown, as had her limbs and neck, approaching regal proportions. There was no trace left of the scrawny, injured Midnight, and even Twilight was almost unrecognizable, save for a brilliant pink stripe through her mane and tail.

And there was a distinct possibility she might not change back.

“Twi! Ah’m comin’—Whoa!”

A shadow darted between her and Applejack. Applejack barely registered the pair of glowing purple dots, but definitely felt the frost from its hoof swing right past her nose. Her center of balance was too far back to fight effectively, so she scrambled back and ran.

A flash of color: at the far end, a large Shadow Pony held Rainbow Dash by the ankle, preventing her from gaining altitude. Dash desperately struggled and swung her hooves but the Shadow Pony had reach on its side. It looked ready to slam Dash into the ground. Applejack cried what she hoped was a terrifying war cry and galloped for the silhouette. Dash and Applejack made brief eye contact, then Dash angled herself and pulled the Shadow Pony below her. Applejack hooked to the side, lining up. Less than a pony’s length from the Shadow Pony, she planted her right forehoof on the ground and turned, swinging her body out to her left. With the momentum of her lower body she kicked out her hindlegs, striking the Shadow Pony in the barrel. It flew sideways, but kept its grip on Rainbow Dash long enough to pull her along.

The Shadow Pony crumpled into another; Rainbow Dash was flung across the chamber and skidded along the ground, past the altar to the other side.

“Dash!” Applejack cried. She started forward, only to have her path blocked. A black wave descended on her, and a frozen hoof knocked her back and had her seeing stars. She slid across the ground and into a pile of books. The Shadow Pony loomed, panting and angry. She tried to scramble back but her hooves couldn’t find any grip.

“Dash!”

Dash slammed into the ground and rolled to a stop. The room was spinning, and some small part of her realized the ringing in her ears was from knocking the back of her head. She blinked, struggling to bring the room into focus. The purple and white blob floating ahead and above her was probably Twilight, or whatever Twilight was turning into. The looming mass of darkness would be a Shadow Pony or two. The brilliant orange and yellow glows in the distance were fires, or maybe Applejack. The fuzzy golden spotlight on the ground beside her was—

The knife! She reached out, just able to touch the handle before she was pulled away, a tight frozen grip around her ankle. She reached with her other foreleg but managed only to push it a centimeter further out of reach. She snarled in frustration and kicked at the Shadow Pony. It yanked her back, its jaws snapping dangerously close to her neck. She rolled onto her side and kicked again, catching the Shadow Pony in the face and pushing herself forward just enough to grab the knife. It was warm to the touch, and though heavy it was perfectly balanced.

She rolled onto her back. The Shadow Pony stood in front of her, snarling. She could hear its whines of anger and its snapping jaws, could feel its savage breath on her face, cold and dry. It leapt forward, jaws snapping.

She winced, holding her forelegs up to protect her face, and smelled the wash of ozone from up close, but the inevitable bite didn’t happen. Oh, duh. She swung the knife wildly. The Shadow Pony backed up with a snarl.

Dash grinned. She leapt into the air, adjusted her grip on the blade, and dove for the Shadow Pony. Her foreleg outstretched and the blade held firm, she slashed past the Shadow Pony before it had a chance to dodge, feeling only a slight pull as the knife sliced clean through the silhouette. It shrieked and stumbled before exploding in a storm of golden embers around Dash as she landed.

They’re not real ponies. They’re not real ponies. They’re not—

A wave of cold blew in from behind. Dash spun, wings splayed out for balance and knife held firm, and caught the surprised Shadow Pony in the side. Sparks spewed from its wound before it disintegrated. The blade was powerful.

The static in the chamber abated somewhat. She could see clear across the chamber, between towers and fires. Applejack was being slowly pushed back by two Shadow Ponies: they were trying to circle her, and gained ground with each swing, buck, and dodge she took. Dash lifted off the ground and rushed over, knife at hoof. If she could just graze the top of one of them—

A Shadow Pony knocked into her and suddenly the room was upside-down. Applejack was above her, about to be overwhelmed. No time to slow and aim. Dash hollered at Applejack and tossed the knife up at her. Applejack glanced down at her just in time to see the glowing blade, pluck it from the air, and slash wildly.

“Oof!” Dash slammed into a heavy bookshelf, knocking books everywhere. She heard the shriek of a dying Shadow Pony, and glowing embers splashed around her. She lifted her head, shaking the stars from her eyes, and tried to make sense of the orange and gold blur in front of her.

Applejack reached down, forehoof extended as she came into focus. Behind her, the other Shadow Pony’s howling was cut short as it detonated, surrounding Applejack in a storm of smouldering paper while the blast whipped her hair into a halo. She was covered in soot and dust, panting, with sweat streaming down her face. Blood lined a triplet of nasty looking scratches on her cheek. In her jaw she held the knife by the handle. Her hat was off-center. She looked angry. She looked awesome.

“You look like shit!” Dash yelled over the noise.

Applejack swore at her for several seconds, though what exactly she said around the handle Dash couldn’t quite make out. Dash smirked and reached for Applejack’s hoof. Suddenly she was standing on all shaky fours. They looked past the cage to the front of the room.

Twilight was unrecognizable. She was as tall as Princess Celestia, with a mane and tail of billowing black smoke that occasionally flickered purple. Even as they watched, piece by piece a set of gleaming armor slammed onto her and locked into place: heavy-looking greaves and horseshoes, guards protecting the leading edges of her impressive wings, and a chanfron wrapping up over her forehead and down her neck. Her wingspan was fully double Rainbow Dash’s and her horn was as long as Dash’s foreleg and sharp as their knife.

Hovering behind her, just out of an Earth Pony’s reach, was the Tome of Shadows. The air around it throbbed, and it was hard to look directly at it. Less and less magic was pouring out of it into Twilight. Once Twilight awoke, they’d have no chance of getting to the Tome, and even if they could there was no guarantee they could separate the Tome from whatever Twilight was becoming without hurting her—or worse. Dash gulped.

A Shadow Pony stood between them and the altar. Above, a Shadow Pegasus loitered. Dash quickly scanned the room but couldn’t see any other silhouettes. We can do this.

Applejack spat the knife into her hoof and panted, “Get the Tome! Ah’ll hold ’em off. Then we stab it.”

Dash nodded once and rocketed off towards Twilight.

Holding the knife in her clenched jaw, Applejack ran forward, ready to slice the Shadow Pony in half. It bent at the knees and spread its hooves. Applejack angled herself to the side and swung.

CLANG

The knife struck the corner of the altar, and was almost yanked from her grip. Applejack barely had time to turn to avoid smacking into the back wall. How had she missed? She shook her head and tried to shift the handle in her mouth and readjust her grip. The Shadow Pony followed her across the chamber.

Applejack needed to get it into an open area so she wouldn’t hit something solid and lose her hold on the knife. She sped between two bookshelves and around a brazier, hoping to slow it down. Ahead the ground was mostly free of loose books. Applejack skidded to a stop and hid beside one of the bookshelves. She couldn’t hear her anything beside her deep gasping breaths. For all she knew it could be about to—

The Shadow Pony burst into the open, following Applejack’s path. Applejack was ready, and launched herself towards it. A roar slid through her clenched jaw. Everything else faded to silence. The Shadow Pony finally noticed and turned to face her. Applejack angled herself to the side and swung.

CLANG

The knife clattered harmlessly to the ground. Applejack barely had time to register that her mouth was open and empty before the Shadow Pony had reared up to stomp on her. She gasped and scrambled back, nearly falling on her rump. A heavy hoof slammed into the ground between her knees, horseshoe ringing. She turned to run.

Only when she was galloping did her mind catch up enough to process what had happened. She hadn’t hit the altar, earlier—she’d hit the Shadow Pony then, too. Armor? she wondered, though none of the other Shadow Ponies had been able to deflect the burning blade, and she couldn’t recall any of Midnight’s minions wearing anything more substantial than ceremonial clothing. Or maybe the Tome of Shadows was finally intervening. Either way, she didn’t want to try for a third time. Maybe it was just this one?

“Dash!” she yelled. “Knife!” She was panting too hard to yell anything else, and couldn’t get around her pursuer to get the knife herself. Maybe the Shadow Pegasus was still vulnerable. If not . . . Her only option was to get her hooves on the Tome and destroy it. Somehow. She hadn’t worked out that part of the plan.

She ran around the cage and weaved between burning spires, turning to lead the Shadow Pony away from the knife. Dash flickered into view overhead, trying to zigzag around the Shadow Pegasus and reach the Tome. Every time she made a move the Shadow Pegasus slid to block her and chase her back, forcing Dash to dodge out of the way. Dash wouldn’t have time to land and grab the knife.

Applejack looked around. She couldn’t see the Shadow Pony, but that only meant it was hidden in one of the shadows bouncing around the chamber. The area around the knife was clear, though. “Dash!” she hollered.

“What?!” Dash yelled, her voice more than a little stressed.

“Catch!” She slowed to a stop, fully expecting to feel the searing pain of the Shadow Pony kicking her in the barrel, or the weight of it crushing into her from above. Wiping the sweat from her face, she peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint the Pegasus’ position amongst all the smoke and fire light.

“Now!” Dash yelled from somewhere behind her.

Applejack grabbed the knife by the hilt and tossed it straight up, regretting it almost immediately. No way had she thrown it high enough—and she couldn’t even see Dash. She watched it loft lazily into the air, slowing to a stop. Where was Dash? C’mon!

The knife fell, pointing straight down. If it hit the ground and broke—and Applejack didn’t dare try to catch it blade first—

Rainbow Dash blasted over Applejack so suddenly that her wake nearly knocked Applejack over. Books scattered and bounced behind her. The knife was gone. She could hear a faint “Aw, yeah!” trailing behind Dash. Applejack cheered, absently reaching to check that her hat was still on her head.

Dash turned to meet the Shadow Pegasus head on and swung—

The Shadow Pegasus raised its foreleg to shield its face—

There was a flash of light, then a moment later the screech of metal on metal. Sparks exploded outwards, quickly disappearing. Applejack heard a faint, echoey, “What the fuck?!”

“Shit!” Applejack swore, catching motion ahead of her. A Shadow Pony was barreling down on her. She feinted right then dodged left, running and trying to sort her thoughts.

She had to get to the Tome, that much was obvious. And she’d have to jump, somehow, never mind that it was Dash’s job, or that it was easily out of her reach, or that any moment Twilight was about to wake up and snatch the Tome for herself. Or snatch Applejack, midair, as she flailed helplessly, reaching for the Tome which was still easily out of her reach—

She pushed the thought from her head and focused on the ground ahead of her. If she had even one chance, she had to try.

Applejack leapt over a burning brazier and slid on her side beneath two collapsed bookshelves propped up against one another. She risked a glance behind her, searching for her pursuer, but her vision was bouncing violently as she navigated the book-strewn terrain, and heat from the fires was making the air hazy.

Dash and the Shadow Pegasus danced overhead, her blade flashing as she slashed and stabbed at her opponent. Every few moments a screech and a shower of sparks would explode from their union. Dash was surprisingly graceful with a knife, but it was getting her nowhere. Even as Applejack watched Dash was led away from the front of the chamber and the Tome, and when Dash tried to ignore the Shadow Pegasus and go around, it would knock her back, out of balance.

Up to me, as usual. Applejack lined up with the altar and the Tome and tried to judge the height.

The Shadow Pony leapt in front of the altar, sliding sideways to a stop between it and Applejack.

Her legs were burning. Her lungs were heaving. Her vision was blurred with sweat and heat. She yelled her best war cry, and leapt.

The Shadow Pony reared up, fanged mouth and hideously sharp horseshoes reaching for her. This close she could see deep into its open mouth, a gaping void that threatened to swallow Applejack whole. The sounds of the chamber faded to a low hum and a crackling of white noise.

Applejack kicked desperately. Her right hindhoof connected with its forehead, slowing her fall only slightly. The next instant, her left hindhoof struck the beast on its back. She kicked downwards with all her might and reached forward. Suddenly she was airborne again, unbalanced and spinning slowly.

The Tome hovered just ahead of her. She reached with both forehooves and caught it, then reached for her hat as it slipped from her head. The air beside her exploded in a swirl of violet light. Then the ground was rushing at her. She clenched her eyes shut and held her breath—

Dash dodged the Shadow Pegasus’ slash, saw an opening, and lunged. She wasn’t getting through the Shadow Pegasus’ armor, or whatever power it had acquired, but that didn’t matter. She just had to get past it, had to get to the Tome and stab it with the brilliant blade held in her right forehoof.

An icy cold hoof grabbed her ankle and yanked her back. She yelped and kicked, trying to free herself. The Shadow Pegasus turned, pulling Dash around and throwing her back. She turned into the throw, stabilizing and putting a little distance between her and the beast.

“Alright, so you’re stubborn.” It was like sparring with a Wonderbolt. She cast about, hoping for some flash of inspiration, some light to go off and—

Of course! She could lure the unsuspecting Shadow Pegasus into one of the bonfires—feed it so much light and heat that it would explode! It kept between her and the Tome, so with a little maneuvering, she should be able to slide it right into one before it noticed.

She smirked. They were fast and powerful, but not clever! Certainly not as clever as—

“Rainbow!”

Dash whipped around. At the head of the chamber, near the altar, Applejack was caught in a hazy aura. Smoke condensed in the air around her, holding her up and obscuring her. Her head had popped out of the smoke, and a foreleg reached desperately for anything to pull her free. She was holding her hat in her hoof and yelling obscenities. Below stood a Shadow Pony, watching intently.

“AJ!” Dash yelled. “Hold on!” Gripping the knife firmly, she launched herself towards the Shadow Pony controlling her. “I’ve got—”

The Shadow Pegasus rammed into her side, knocking the wind from her. She bowled through a spire of books and crashed into the ground. There was a sharp pain on her tongue, and she tasted blood.

The Shadow Pegasus was on her in an instant, standing over her, a black shape rearing up with its sharp-looking horseshoes hovering right over her head.

Dash gasped and threw her forelegs up in front of her face, nearly cutting herself with the knife, saw the bright flash of light a centimeter from her eyes. Hooves slammed into the ground right beside her ears, catching and pulling on her mane. It snapped its jaw at her, barely held back by her forelegs. Its breath smelled like freezer-burn. Its wingspan stretched clear across her vision. This close to its face all she could hear was an offensive wall of hissing white noise covering a deeper hum. It pressed close.

She spat blood at its face and tried to slash at it. The Shadow Pegasus grabbed her hoof and forced it back beside her head. She gasped, then kicked it in the gut. It howled, leaping backwards to keep its balance. A pump of her wings launched Dash at the Shadow Pegasus. Before it could even blink Dash had grabbed it around its chest and toppled them both to the ground.

Adrenaline surged through her veins. Straddling its gut, she leaned back, lifted the knife high above her head, and stabbed downwards. It waved its forelegs, trying to knock the blade aside. The knife skidded across the Shadow Pegasus’s leg guards, showering them both in glowing sparks and deafening Dash with the shriek of metal-on-metal, and dug into its chest.

The Shadow Pegasus yelped then exploded beneath Dash, and she crashed to her knees. She hung her head and gasped in a huge breath, desperately trying to fill her empty lungs, and only realized she was yelling at the floor when her throat started hurting. Even though they were trying to kill her, and even though they were made of shadow, the Shadow Ponies moved and felt like real ponies. She’d raced Pegasi like that before. She’d straddled Pegasi like that before.

“Dash!” Applejack yelled. “Look out—mmf!”

Dash spun, knife held ready to strike. Towering over her was the Shadow Pony, and floating behind and above it was Applejack, muffled by whatever Shadow Magic was holding her in place. Dash aimed higher, at its chest, and brought the knife up—

But the Shadow Pony was all wrong—her eyes had no trouble focusing on its body; its mane flowed in a breeze Dash couldn’t feel; and despite its hold on Applejack it wasn’t savagely attacking either of them. It was waiting patiently for Dash to do something.

And it had a horn, and wings, and a cutie mark and armor and—Twilight. Twilight!

Dash jerked back, and looked at the knife. Its light was almost blinding. She gulped, clenched her eyes shut, pulled back—do it do it just do it Applejack’s in trouble DO IT!

The Shadow Alicorn casually plucked the knife from her grip. Dash grabbed at empty air for a few moments, trying to pretend to herself that she could make the hard choice, but she couldn’t suppress a guilty wave of relief. Thick tendrils of smoke wrapped around her, restraining her limbs and wings, and she was lifted into the air beside Applejack. She looked awful.

“I’m sorry,” Dash muttered, realizing how utterly she’d failed.

Applejack nodded, not making eye contact. “Me too.”

“Hi, Rainbow Dash and Applejack! I’m so glad to finally meet you!”

Wat.

Twilight carried Dash and Applejack towards the front of the room to hover before the altar. She looked calm and relaxed; nothing like the Twilight that Dash knew. Aside from a shimmer of violet hiding in her smoky mane, the brilliant purple of her eyes, and the sparkling silver of her armor, she was a Princess-shaped carving of obsidian, tall and imposing, with none of the gentler lines that their friend possessed.

Her voice was different, too. Gone was the defensive, frantic Twilight Sparkle; this was cheerful, deceptively innocent, and very—well, very Pinkie.

“I’ve heard so much about you! I just know we’re gonna be best friends!”

Twilight smiled, and walked around the altar. Her motions were graceful and fluid, while her mane floated behind her, defying gravity. Each step rang out clear on the stone floor. The ground beneath her hooves disintegrated with each step; when exposed to the air, her hoofprints smoldered and smoked, leaving a trail of charcoal behind her.

Dash narrowed her eyes. “Twilight?” she asked hesitantly.

“Sparkle?” Twilight’s smile faded. “Yeah, she’s in here, too. Very noisy. Urgh, you should hear her.”

She stood before them and looked past them to the rear of the chamber. Dash twisted to look at whatever Twilight could see, but there was nothing there. She turned back—and Twilight’s lip was trembling.

“ . . . do anything, I swear,” Twilight moaned. The raw desperation and shame in her voice was frightening.

Sweet Sisters, no. She’s still—

Twilight staggered and looked up at the ceiling, her posture broken and beaten. “Just let them go. You don’t need them, I’ve got all the power you—” She froze, lifted a hoof, and prodded her face. Her eyes grew wide, and she screamed, “Run! Get out! It’s going to kill you!”

Dash flinched, ears flattening against her head. The smoke holding her in the air tightened as she squirmed and struggled.

Tears started streaming down Twilight’s cheeks. “Applejack! Rainbow Dash! Run! You can’t do anything, it’ll—”

Twilight paused, shook her head once, and huffed. “She’s been yelling in my ear for a while now. So annoying.”

“You let her go!” Applejack howled. “Get yer ink out of her mind before ya stain it completely!”

“Let her go?” Twilight laughed. “Hel-lo? She needs me! I am the best thing that could have happened to her. Sparkle’s going insane on her own. Look around you. There are literally books on fire and shadows dancing in the streets. Her mind is a freaking mess. And all she needs is somepony to talk to. She tried to tell you, Applejack, but you were all, like, ‘At least my sister’s doing well!’ And you didn’t even give her a chance, Rainbow Dash.

“She couldn’t tell you, but she’s telling me. She’s telling me about how she can’t see past her own choices, how she’s totally jealous that you can just relax and enjoy your insignificant days without the responsibilities of royalty, and how she’s worried that one day she’s going to lose it and hurt herself, or—worse—you.

“And she’s telling me all about you. Oh, you’re good ponies. You don’t deserve this. It’s her fault you’re down here in the first place. Puh-lease.” Twilight rolled her eyes as she walked slowly around Applejack and Dash. Each step rang clearly through the crackling of fires, and the floor smoldered behind her. “We all know that’s not entirely true. Sparkle didn’t drag you into the jungle. She didn’t drop you into the darkness. She didn’t try to crush you or drown you or explode you or tear you to shreds.

“I mean, how could she? You two are adventurers!” she exclaimed. “A noble and rare breed, pulling back the curtains of time to reveal culture, magic, and history! You would dig to enormous depths to find the smallest piece of your ancestry. You would cross lifeless deserts for a chance at immortal fame. And you would kill scores of minions to save some poor, defenseless, pathetic pony. Sparkle would’ve been hard-pressed to stop you.” She stepped in front of them and reached a hoof to the ceiling, posing heroically before cracking a smile.

“I knew an adventurer, once. A young Earth Pony, this total hunk, who lives a life of tedium, his special talents wasted. All through his youth this stallion dreams of leaving his dreary farm to explore the world.” Twilight dipped her head and touched her chest. Her voice was softer, thick with memory. “He’s convinced there’s more out there than farming and brewing lantern oil. He can feel it. This close to the Void he’d have to be lame not to. It draws ponies. It drew a whole city of them.

“He wants to know, needs to know, even at the expense of his family, of his friends, of his life. When the opportunity to leave presents itself he volunteers. Eagerly. It doesn’t matter where he’s going; he hates his life for holding him back.”

She sighed, smiling.

“What happened to him?” Dash asked.

“I ate him.”

“You—you ate him?”

Twilight turned to face Dash and leaned close. She grinned, fangs bared and tapering to perfect points. Her breath was odorless and sterile.

“They brought him to me, and I swallowed that desperate loser’s soul. He yearned for knowledge, so I showed him the yawning expanse of truth that stretches from the darkest corners of the world to the deepest depths of the Void. Just as I ate his mother, and his best friend, and a hundred other farmers, and soldiers, and scholars. Just like I did to Sparkle.” Twilight smiled, her nose a centimeter outside Dash’s reach. “Just like I’m going to do to you. Sparkle’s Pegasus and Earth Pony magics aren’t fully formed yet and, to be honest, I’m freaking starving. Up you go!”

The Shadow Magic propping Dash in the air tightened around her barrel and hovered her over the altar.

“Let me go!” Dash said, struggling with her free foreleg.

“Does that usually work?” Twilight asked, cocking an eyebrow. “I can’t imagine that actually works.”

She set Dash on top of the altar, lying on her side, one half of her face pressed against the warm, solid stone. Dash tried to turn her head or prop herself up, without success. Something flashed at the edge of her vision. Oh, crap. Twilight had the knife suspended above her. Suddenly it was filling her entire vision. It looked much sharper with the blade facing her than it did with the hilt in her hoof. Her bravado drained in an instant. “Oh, fuck me, no. Please. Oh, Princess, no! Don’t do it!”

“Re-lax. I’m just going to turn you into a Shadow Pony and steal your magic. Won’t hurt a bit,” Twilight whispered. Dash snorted and struggled, twisting to keep the knife in view, not wanting to watch but unwilling to look away. Twilight’s magic held her firm. “It’s worse if I miss and, believe me, I have not had as much practice stabbing things to death as you have. Hold still!” she bellowed, her voice resonating through the chamber.

“Stop it!” Applejack yelled, from just within her view. “Don’t you dare touch a feather on that Pegasus! Don’t you dare!”

“Oh, please.”

A hoof touched Dash’s feathers, whisper-soft, and stroked down the length of her wing. From the right pony that might’ve felt reassuring and safe, intimate and familiar. This only made her cramp up, made her muscles ache. She groaned, trying to twist free.

Applejack snarled, and pointed at Twilight with her free hoof.

“You don’t get it. Yer messin’ with the wrong ponies. Yer messin’ with me. Y’all may have spoiled Twilight when she weren’t lookin’ and caught Dash with yer magic but Tartarus ain’t got no fury like an Apple scorned!”

Twilight huffed and turned to watch.

Applejack said, “Apples ain’t nice ponies. Apples do not play fair. Somepony threatens an Apple, he threatens all of us. When bandits broke into our home Ah didn’t cower and call for help. Mah brother and Ah beat those scoundrels to within a hoof of their lives and sent ’em crawling back. When we found out our neighbours were trashing our crops, we burned theirs to the ground. Mah parents died protecting our family and our farm. We have ruined better ponies for less.”

Applejack glared at her, nostrils flaring. “So you better hope you don’t mess up, ’cause if you do, even for an instant, Ah’m gonna grab that knife and stab ya deep. And ya better not hesitate, ’cause Ah won’t. The moment Ah’m free Ah will cut. You. Up and spill that disgusting ink all over the ground. Ah will snap yer spine. Ah will tear you page from page. Ah will use you as tinder! Ah will gut you over and over if ya put even one fucking scratch on mah sisters!” she spat.

“Do ya get me? Am Ah makin’ sense? Do you think Ah’m lyin’? Let go of them, or so help me, Ma and Pa, Ah will make you wish you hadn’t been found. With the biggest fuckin’ smile Ah will make you beg for death. And when this place comes crashin’ down around us Ah will bury you so far in the ground even roots won’t find ya, you—you—you catalog! Yer dead! Dead! Argh!” Applejack roared, thrashing against her bonds.

Dash opened her mouth to say something but couldn’t figure out what. She knew Applejack meant it, too—Applejack’s brutal honesty was plain as the blood on her face. Applejack really would die for us. For several long, drawn out moments she watched Applejack toss and turn and swear herself into an exhausted lump.

Then Applejack sniffled and started bawling.

“Ple-e-ease, don’t do this,” Applejack moaned, words dragged out. Tears streamed unheeded down her face. “Just . . . just let ’em go. Ah don’t care what ya do to me. Ah’ll do anything you want. Just let ’em go. Please.” She slumped in her bonds and hung her head, weeping gently. Her hat fell to the floor.

“Do you mind?” Twilight asked, finally.

Applejack didn’t answer, at first. She sniffled and wiped at her face with her free hoof, then strained for her hat. “Can ya please grab my hat? Ah can’t reach it.”

“Excuse me?” Twilight asked, as she floated the Tome up in front of her, above Dash but just out of reach of the bound pony. “Now’s really not the time.”

“Mah hat. It belonged to Pa.” She stretched her forehoof out as far as it would reach. “Ah need it.”

“Lemme think about it—No.”

“Gimme my Celestia-damned hat!” Applejack cried.

“Eenope.” Twilight peered close and flicked some rubble off of the Tome.

“That’s it!” Applejack screamed, her voice hysterical and hoarse. “Yer a dead mare! Once that snapstone goes off Dash is gonna kill you!”

“What?!” Twilight snarled, whipping around to glare at Applejack, then paused as a tiny stone fell harmlessly from between the Tome’s back cover and last page.

Rainbow Dash watched it fall, slow, lazy. Everything seemed muted and heavy. Applejack’s warning made sense. She winced in anticipation, but even her eyelids were slow and sluggish. She caught a brilliant flash of sparkling white—one of Twilight’s barriers, centimeters-thick and almost opaque, separating her and the Tome from the snapstone. The chamber turned a stark black-and-white, and the itching sensation was so strong Dash thought she’d erupted in hives. It was agony.

Just as her eyes shut, the air around Dash erupted in flame and light, pressing up against Twilight’s barrier. Rainbow’s smoky bindings peeled away in the blast; her coat and skin went from chilled to singed in an instant. The fire retreated with a roar as air rushed to fill the empty void, audibly shattering the weakened barrier. She reached blindly, and found her foreleg free of Twilight’s magic.

The knife fell into Dash’s waiting hoof. The Tome was exposed. Twilight snarled. Dash spun, sliced the knife back behind her, and felt it dig home.

Twilight grunted, and suddenly the chamber was silent.

Dash released the knife. Applejack was yelling something, but Dash couldn’t really hear what. She peeked out from under one eyelid, not sure if she wanted to see what had happened. She was leaning over the edge of the altar, facing the floor. A thick black tar was dripping onto the floor, already spreading down the slight slope towards the center.

“Eww,” Dash muttered, and looked up.

Twilight’s barriers had fallen, taking the brunt of the blast with them and leaving nothing between her and Dash. For a long moment Dash couldn’t figure out why the knife wasn’t falling—Oh. Oh no.

Dash had stabbed the knife nearly hilt-deep into Twilight’s chest.

She gasped and jumped back, falling off of the altar in a heap. Pain flared out from her wing, the same wing Twilight had casually stroked and the same wing she had injured racing for the Sanctum. She scrambled to her hooves and reached for the blade. “No, no, no!” The blade slid out easily, taking a disgusting, drooling lump of shadowy mass with it, and she jerked her hoof back like the knife had bitten her. “I didn’t mean to. Twilight! Twilight!”

She knew what came next. She winced, expecting another burst, a sizzle of embers, or a Twilight-shaped pile of coals. Instead, Twilight slumped and collapsed to her side in the mess of her own Shadow Magic.

“Twilight!” Applejack screeched, her voice shrill and panicky. She shoved Dash out of the way and collapsed beside Twilight. “Say something!” She shook Twilight’s shoulder. Twilight shuddered.

Applejack grabbed Dash and pulled her close. “What did you do?!”

“I didn’t—I just—You told me to—”

“Ah wanted you to destroy the fucking book! Not stab our friend!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Dash yelled, pulling herself back.

Smoke began evaporating off of her body, wisping into the air. Twilight was still breathing, but it was coarse and ragged, and her horn was flickering.

“Twi?” Applejack tried again, softer this time. “Can you hear me?”

After a few moments, Twilight nodded. “You guys did great,” she whispered between shallow, stuttering breaths. “I knew you could do it.”

Her armor, too large for her deflating body, clattered loudly to the floor around her. Neither of them said anything else. Applejack awkwardly petted Twilight’s mane.

“I’m sorry!” Dash blurted out, torn between wanting to hold Twilight and not wanting to touch whatever Shadow Magic still inhabited her body. Dash’s lower lip trembled, and she fought to keep her eyes open, even as her vision grew watery—fought to face Twilight and own up to her mistake and not look at the wound in Twilight’s chest or the frighteningly large pool of Shadow Magic spreading across the floor. She’s stabbed Twilight. She’d stabbed Twilight. Oh, Celestia, no. This can’t be happening.

Twilight tilted her head to look at Dash and reached up to touch her face. Twilight’s hoof was cold. Dash winced. Whatever Twilight said, Dash knew she probably deserved it.

“It’s okay,” Twilight said with a proud smile. “You saved me.”

Dash crumpled like she’d been punched in the gut. “No,” she said, all tiny, eyes clenched shut. “I didn’t—I’m not brave like Applejack, it was gonna eat me, and I had the knife and I tried to save you and I—I—I’m so sorry!” she wailed, burying her face in her hooves.

“Oh, Rainbow.” Dash felt a foreleg wrap around her shoulder. “You’re the bravest pony I know. You did wonderfully,” Twilight said.

Dash seized Twilight and pulled her into an embrace, still sobbing. Twilight had shrunk nearly to her original size. There was so much Shadow Magic on the ground.

“You too, Applejack,” Twilight said. “I was so impressed with your heroism. And you’re better at make-believe than you think.”

“Ah forgot about the snapstone,” Applejack admitted with a sniffle, barely heard over Dash’s crying. “Ah should’a used it earlier.”

Twilight chuckled weakly. “I’m glad you didn’t. Your timing was perfect.” Her voice was strained, like even the effort of speaking was too much. “There’s so much I need to explain, but there’s not enough time. The cavern’s going to collapse, and I can’t hold it back much longer. There’s a hidden door behind the altar. You just need to—”

“No,” Dash interrupted, speaking into Twilight’s mane.

“Excuse me?” Twilight asked.

Oh, crap. “I—” She could feel their eyes on her, had to bite her lip to keep it from trembling, had to hold Twilight close to keep from yelling and flying away. Oh, Celestia. She knew what she was doing, but—

No. This is what heroes do. I owe her this much.

And she couldn’t imagine life suddenly without Twilight.

“It’s my fault,” she insisted, wiping tears and snot from her face with her foreleg. She propped herself up and looked Twilight in the eyes. Twilight was staring at her, jaw hanging loose. Dash said, “I’m not leaving you here alone.”

“Dash—” Applejack whispered.

Something hard and heavy collapsed nearby. Dash flinched, but forced herself to keep her face straight and reassuring. That was what Twilight needed—reassurance that it was going to be okay, even though they all knew it wouldn’t be okay—

Twilight shook her head. “Well of course you’re not leaving me alone. I can’t teleport like this. Applejack’s going to carry me, you’re going to lead the way, and we’re all going to escape.”

Dash blinked. “But . . . this is the part where you tell us to leave . . . because you’re dying.”

Twilight arched an eyebrow.

“I . . . killed you?”

“What are you talking about?” Twilight asked, trying to push herself up to her hooves before falling flat with a grunt. “The Tome’s destroyed. I’m all better, I swear. Look!” She pointed.

“Huh?” On the floor behind Dash, the knife fizzled and sparked, fading to a lifeless grey. The black tar had drained away from the lump in which it was still embedded, leaving the copy of Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith in its place, mostly intact save for large scorch marks and a missing rear cover. Rainbow pushed Twilight back and looked at her wound. There was almost no Shadow Magic left, only a tiny black line from where the blade had barely penetrated.

“So . . . I didn’t stab you to death?”

“What?!” Twilight exclaimed. “Of course not! I said you saved me.” She waved a hoof at the surrounding chamber. The shaking was strong enough that books were toppling over. “Except for the ceiling. I’m pretty sure that’s my fault. If we don’t get moving—”

“Omigod omigod omigod!” Dash cried, and swept Twilight into a fierce hug. “I thought I’d killed you!”

“Oof!” Twilight squeaked. “Can’t—breathe—Urk!”

“Don’t care!” Dash said, burying her face in Twilight’s frazzled mane and squeezing harder. She could feel a giant goofy grin spreading across her face. She was crying again.

“You . . . ya sure y’aint dying?” Applejack asked. “Yer not tryin’ to get us to leave before lockin’ us out or somethin’? Ah mean, if one of us was gonna do the other one in, it’d be Rainbow for sure.”

“Hey, fuck you!” Dash laughed through her tears.

“We’re all dying, Applejack,” Twilight wheezed, shoving at them both, trying to get herself free. “Some of us might die a little sooner if you don’t listen closely.”

Dash nodded, releasing Twilight and wiping her face clear of any evidence that she wasn’t always awesome.

“First, there’s an exit behind the altar. One of the stones is offset a little. Push it back and a doorway will appear. The stairs lead almost straight to the surface.”

“So we strap you onto mah back, Dash leads the way, and we saunter right out of here? Seems a little easy.”

Twilight shook her head. “Second, I don’t know how long I can keep these projections intact. It might get a little geologically unstable so, no, it won’t be easy. Might need to hurry.”

“And third?” Applejack asked.

Twilight clenched her eyes shut, and her horn started glowing. Around their hooves, dust and pebbles started rolling towards a point, congregating in a pulsing mass that slowly hovered up to eye level before splitting into two. Twilight peeked from one eye before exhaling in relief.

The two glows faded; one clattered to the floor at Dash’s hooves, and the other fluttered a little more quietly in front of Applejack.

“Third, you’ll need these.”

Dash grabbed the white bowl-shaped helmet, felt its weight and its stiffness, and traced the outline of its brim.

“Why?” she asked quietly, eyes wide, unsure how many conflicting emotions she was going to have to deal with tonight.

“Dash!” Applejack scolded, swinging a heavy, filthy duster up and over her back. Seeing Rock Gambit in the flesh was shocking.

Dash shook her head. “No, like, why do we need these?”

Twilight pointed past them, to the center of the room. “Because I don’t have the strength to deal with him.”

Rose turned around and gasped. Twilight’s Shadow Magic had puddled in the center of the room, bubbling and splashing in place. A head and foreleg popped free of a large bubble, then the other foreleg struggled out of the puddle.

“Midnight . . . Miss Oil . . . Why?” Cairo moaned, once his mouth was free. He leaned his weight forward and tried to haul himself up like a pony emerging from a pool. Shadow Magic dripped down his face and neck, splashing onto the ground before him. His eyes burned a brilliant purple, visible even in the harsh light of many burning fires. “You didn’t have to kill me. I would have given you everything. You only had to ask!”

“Okay. Time to go,” Rose muttered. “Keep him busy, Daring. We’ll find the exit—”

“And you!” Cairo’s burning purple eyes locked on to Rose. “Rose Gambit! I help you defeat her, and instead you save her? You truly are a hero,” he spat.

“Yeah! Ah am! And yer a monster, through and through!” Rose yelled.

Cairo stood on all four wobbly legs, though his puddle of Shadow Magic continued burping and roiling beneath him. He raised a forehoof and stared at it, like it wasn’t even his. “Yes, I suppose I am,” he muttered after a moment, then pointed at her and growled.

“Leave Midnight and I will let you and Miss Do live.”

“Or else what?”

Cairo roared, more beastial than any pony should ever sound and loud enough to shake the whole room and push the three of them back. The air blackened around him as he drained darkness from the corners and edges of the room. His forehoof bubbled, then a mass of Shadow Magic extended from his hoof and shot right for Rose, crossing the distance between so quickly that she barely had time to shut her eyes and wince.

“Ha!” Daring yelled, followed by the roar of a wounded animal. Something metallic clinked and clanged on the ground. Rose opened her eyes to see Daring floating in front of her, an eternally burning book in one hoof, and a length of chain on the ground. It had missed and instead clamped itself around a pair of books.

A bulge appeared on Cairo’s back, and more shadowy chains raced out, swinging at Daring. Daring fanned the book back and forth, barely fending them off.

“Go!” she yelled. “Open the stupid door already!”

Rose hefted Midnight onto her back and darted for the wall behind the altar. Light and shadow danced across the wall as Daring and Cairo fought. Daring yelped and a second later a jet of Shadow Magic slammed into the wall only centimeters from her face. Rose threw herself behind the altar and looked for the doorway.

“Uh, Midnight? What now?”

Midnight groaned from atop her back, and weakly waved a hoof in the general direction of the wall. “One of the stones. Offset a little.”

Rose stared at the wall. The whole thing was made of rough, uneven, offset stones. “Of all the times for you to be useless,” she muttered, and started pressing stones at random.

Cairo’s wounded yells turned angry, and Daring’s more and more desperate. “Uh, Rose? Any time now!”

“Ah’m trying!” she snarled. “Which one?!”

“It’s the offset—”

“Oh, fer—” Rose spun around, lined herself up, and kicked back at the wall. The brickwork shattered behind her hooves, collapsing backwards in a heap. Midnight nearly bounced off her back but managed to stay on. A few more gentler kicks opened the hole large enough for them to sneak through.

“Told you,” Midnight muttered, rubbing the side of her head.

Rose crouched and crawled through, careful to keep from knocking either Midnight or her hat against the underside of the wall, and found herself in a darkened stairwell.

“Daring!” Rose called out, looking back through the doorway.

“Ahh!” Daring yelled, rushing at her.

“Ahh!” Rose yelled, yanking her head back just in time to avoid getting smacked in the face. Daring tumbled through the doorway, followed by a low rumbling that shook the wall. She landed on her stomach and chest, hindlegs hanging up and over her back, before collapsing with a faint slap. In her forehoof she held a hardcover book, one corner burning brightly and revealing their landing and the stairs ahead with a faint orange flicker.

Daring was quickly back on her hooves. “C’mon! That fire’s not gonna stop him for long!” she said, leaping for the stairs.

Rose shifted Midnight atop her back and hurried to follow. The light from Daring’s makeshift torch didn’t reach as far back as Rose’s hooves, and the stairs, carved directly into the cave floor, were steep and uneven. Pebbles rattled atop the rumbling stairs, robbing her of her grip, and more than a few had broken into loose pieces. Almost immediately she slipped, scraping her ankle on the next step.

Rose could hear the crumpling sounds of books collapsing, then Cairo roared and the stairwell shook.

Daring looked behind her. “I think Cairo made it past my bonfire.”

Rose glanced down towards the entrance. Cairo’s Shadow Magic had finally extinguished what little fire was left and was pouring into the stairwell. The familiar pinprick tingling of nearby magic mixed with a low growling static at the edge of her hearing. The last flickers of light evaporated; the stairs suddenly descended into an endless void.

“We’re glowing like a beacon,” Rose panted, looking at Daring’s torch book.

“I can barely see as it is, and I bet he can find us without light. I’m not getting rid of it.”

Rose nodded.

Cairo’s voice warbled up the cave. “Midnight! Come back!”

Midnight groaned and dug her face into Rose’s withers.

“You stay back, Cairo!” Daring yelled, leaping past Rose and waving the fiery book back and forth.

Cairo groaned, a ghastly sound that shook the rock around them. There was a whistle mixed with a rattle. Rose only caught a flicker of motion, then a chain length rushed right past her face, shattering against the ceiling.

“Go. Fucking go!” Daring yelled, shoving Rose upwards. Rose stumbled in the faint torch light until she found purchase, then she was running upwards, keeping her eyes peeled for blockages or missing steps.

Behind, Daring cursed and yelled, climbing much more slowly as she fought back Cairo’s attacks. Rose could hear the clatter of chains blasting away at rocks, and the sizzle of evaporating Shadow Magic. Suddenly Daring was right behind her, panting.

“Must go faster, must go faster!” Daring urged.

“Ah don’t see you carrying a pony on your back!” Rose panted.

“Duck!” Midnight yelled. Rose reached for her hat and crouched. Moments later something blasted against the ceiling ahead of them, raining dust and pebbles over them as they raced past.

“He’s gaining,” Daring said, “and surprisingly accurate.”

“No shit,” Rose panted. Her lungs burned. Her calves burned. She’d slipped enough that she was sure she’d sprained at least three of her ankles by now. Maybe Cairo still had enough of a body left to get tired, but she doubted it. He was going to catch them, she was certain. Daring’s little book wasn’t enough to fight him back and, unless Daring was hiding a snapstone of her own, she didn’t think they could beat him.

“He’s coming!” Midnight cried.

The sounds of clanking chains ceased, as did Cairo’s groaning. The air around them hushed, and the sound of their hooves and ragged breaths and hammering hearts faded; it was almost totally silent. Rose slowed to a stop and watched her breath condense in front of her face in sharp gusts. Then a howling rush of Shadow Magic surrounded them. Midnight screamed and clutched her hooves around her head, but even that was muted. Daring yelled and waved her book back and forth, but it was little more than a candle fluttering in a strong wind.

Then the storm faded, and Cairo shot forward, around a corner, and out of sight.

“That . . . was weird,” Rose panted.

Daring gulped and nodded. “He’s got us trapped. Why leave us down here?”

“Something’s up ahead. Maybe if he attacked us he couldn’t stop us in time and keep us from reaching . . . whatever’s up there.”

“Or he’s not strong enough to fight us up close. He needs distance. That chain thing. Or maybe—”

“He wants me,” Midnight whispered, interrupting them. “Cairo could pick you up and smear you against the wall. But he won’t, because he might injure me, too.”

“Wonderful.” Rose took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart.

“No, it is,” Daring said. “He can’t attack us outright while you’ve got Midnight.” She smirked. “I guess I am gonna be huddling close to you, Rose,” Daring said, pressing up against her and waggling her eyebrows. “Just for safety, of course.”

“Really? Now?”

“What, like you’re the only pony that gets to make jokes?”

Rose shoved her aside, but grinned just the same.

The shaking increased gradually, until Rose could feel it bouncing all the way up through Midnight. When they reached a landing and the walls opened out in both directions onto a massive, yawning chasm, the reflected light from Daring’s book seemed to crawl and sparkle down the far side as dust, pebbles, and boulders fell down the wall. It came and went in waves, so that for a second Rose couldn’t hear Daring beside her and was sure the world was falling apart, then suddenly it would be a low rumble that she couldn’t quite ignore.

Opposite them at roughly the same height was Cairo, horn and purple eyes glowing; and in between was a narrow bridge that was little more than a length of wooden runners. Rose leaned to the side and saw nothing down below except a darkness so thorough that it lacked depth or vertigo.

“That’s not fair,” Daring grumbled. “Why isn’t this bridge made of stonework and masonry?”

“That bridge can’t hold us up,” Rose muttered. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

“Daring Do!” Cairo hollered. His voice echoed strangely through the cavern, with more than a hint of static and warble. Daring’s torch light wasn’t strong enough to reveal him.

“You ready to give up?” Daring yelled back. “We’re all the way over here and you can’t toss us down that chasm without tossing Midnight over as well.”

“Hey!” Midnight said. “You are not throwing me over!”

Rose nodded. “So how’s about’cha let us cross, we all head up to the surface, and talk about this like civilized ponies?”

Cairo was silent for a second before speaking, and his response was muted. “I don’t believe we can be civilized about this anymore, Miss Gambit.” His horn flared, illuminating the whole of the landing on the other side, and himself.

Rose recoiled with a gasp. Cairo’s body had continued transforming into something grotesque. His limbs were misshaped and far too long and bent at weird angles. His horn reached farther than Rose remembered it reaching, and curved upwards slightly like a scythe. Small bubbles formed and popped over his body, and there was a constant stream of Shadow Magic drooling down his forelegs and onto the ground. The walls around him were devoid of any shadows or highlights—Cairo was absorbing the shadows around him.

“What’s happening to ya?” Rose asked quietly. In the heavy silence her voice echoed slightly

“I’m growing,” Cairo said. “The Shadow Magic is transforming me, granting me more power and vision than I could’ve ever imagined.”

“Yeah, but yer . . . ” She waved her hoof, miming the shape of his limbs.

Daring spoke up. “You’re way ugly.”

“Daring!” Rose hissed.

“Also the Shadow Magic,” Cairo admitted. “I peeled off the ground too soon, and the unprojection has been unkind.”

“Cairo . . . ” Rose said. “We can getcha to a doctor. Some magic, maybe. Ah know a pretty powerful pony who could help you.”

“Help me?” Cairo laughed. “Why would I need help? Not when I can do this,” he said, pointing at the ground before his hooves then flicking his hoof upwards. Shadow accumulated first into a shapeless mound, then grew and formed into a familiar shape. The roaring in the chasm acquired a distinctly feline quality.

“Oh, great,” Daring muttered. “He can grow Shadow Jaguars. Because that’s exactly what I want, you know?” She giggled.

“Stop yammering and focus. We need a plan!” Rose hissed. “Unless you’d rather we turn around and try to squeeze past through the rubble?”

“I already have a plan,” Daring said, stretching her neck and rolling her shoulders. “Plan B.”

Rose opened her mouth to protest, but Daring was already in the air, flapping hard and gaining altitude. “You and I have a date, Cairo!” she proclaimed.

Cairo drew himself up to his full, impressive height and snorted. “Let’s not be hasty, Miss Do. It would be all too easy to accidentally cut the bridge and leave Miss Gambit stranded over there.”

Rose glared at him. “You’d leave Midnight stranded, too.”

“Good. I’d prefer she not leave,” Cairo admitted with a lopsided smile. “But I know you two are just dying to make it to the surface. Miss Do, if you would be so kind as to carry Miss Oil to me.”

“Me?” Daring exclaimed, insisting, “I can barely carry a pony when walking. I can’t fly her across!”

“Then you and I are on the same page.”

Something heavy settled in Rose’s gut. “Of course. The bridge can’t hold all three of us at once, can it?” she asked.

Daring landed beside her, lips pursed and frustration creasing her forehead. “No, but he won’t do anything to it while Midnight’s suspended over that chasm, and if he could teleport over and pluck Midnight like last time he’d’ve already done so. He wants her across as much as we want across.”

“You gotta distract him once you’re across, or he might cut the bridge.”

“That won’t give Cairo much time to react. He might do something stupid.”

Rose glanced down into the abyss, and gulped. “Doesn’t matter. I’m not staying down here, and Ah’m not leaving you behind. Either we make it to the surface—”

“Or we go down fighting.”

They looked back across. Cairo was panting softly, and every now and then his surface wobbled slightly, like a bubble in a breeze. “Don’t keep me waiting,” he warned them. “I can’t hold back this whole chasm.”

Daring sighed. “I’ve got an idea. You’re not going to like it.”

“Ah never do—”

“I mean you, Midnight.” She stood close to Midnight. In a voice almost too quiet for Rose to hear—and hopefully far too quiet for Cairo to hear—she said, “I’m gonna do something really stupid, if you’ll let me. But it’ll be okay. Cairo won’t let you get hurt.”

Midnight lifted her head and said, “Well? What is this stupid something?”

Daring grinned. If she didn’t know better, Rose would’ve sworn Daring was enjoying all this. “I can’t tell you. Otherwise Cairo will guess what’s up.”

Midnight stared at Daring, then shrugged. “Just don’t leave me behind.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll get you out for sure.” She crouched beside Rose. Rose leaned to the side and together they slid Midnight onto Daring. Daring stood and shifted her weight but Rose could clearly see Daring’s wings were pinned. Daring whispered to Rose, “Get ready to help.”

Rose nodded.

Daring bent low to grab the torch in her mouth, but Cairo called out, “Miss Do? Leave the book with Miss Gambit. It wouldn’t do to leave her in the dark, would it?”

“Awfully hard to see where I’m walking in pitch black,” Daring sneered.

“Allow me.” A trio of orbs flashed into the air beside the bridge, held aloft by floating pads of smoke and revealing a much older, much more derelict bridge than Rose had initially guessed; and even these new lights weren’t enough to illuminate the extent of the chasm. Above, below, and to either side all Rose could see was darkness; they were connected to Cairo’s landing—and their escape—by the tenuous wooden bridge.

And Daring was about to do something stupid. Rose gulped.

Daring strutted up to the bridge. Holding her head high, she set off without hesitation, putting one hoof in front of the other. The bridge creaked and groaned under the weight of two ponies—even if one of those was a lithe Pegasus, and the other a skinny Unicorn—and wobbled enough that she could only move one hoof at a time, or risk tipping the whole thing sideways.

Rose watched intently as Daring crossed the bridge. Daring casually looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with Rose, before glancing at her hooves and the bridge below.

Rose frowned. She couldn’t figure out what Daring could possibly do with Midnight on her back. Maybe Daring was planning on abandoning Midnight halfway across? Rose leaned forward, ready to rescue Midnight.

“Hey, Cairo,” Daring said, a little too conversationally.

His eyes narrowed. “Yes?”

“Catch.”

Daring shrugged her shoulders, sliding Midnight off her back—and to the side.

Applejack watched it happen in slow motion.

Twilight yelped, scrambling to grab something—anything—before gravity took hold and pulled her screaming from the bridge. Her wings were folded uselessly and her Pegasus instincts were laughable.

Applejack gasped, stunned, and for a moment could only stare as Twilight plunged into the depths.

“Midnight!” Cairo cried. He raced to the edge, his horn bursting to life, and shot a glowing length of chain into the darkness.

Dash shot into the air then dove like a missile straight at the Shadow Jaguar. The bridge was clear.

Go!

Rose snapped up the book and ran. She thundered down the bridge, certain it was going to bounce itself apart with her on it. Far below when she dared to look she could see the feeble glow from Midnight’s horn and Cairo’s chain racing to catch her.

Daring twisted in mid-air and shot hoof-first. The Shadow Jaguar tracked her motion and leapt into the air, colliding with Daring and sending her tumbling to the side.

Cairo’s chain caught and snapped taut, yanking him towards the edge. His hooves dug into the solid rock, keeping him firmly in place, and he started ratcheting Midnight back up to the landing.

Rose jumped the final few meters and slid across the landing. The shadows from her torch danced around her and immediately pulled free from the wall. Rose grabbed the book from her mouth and waved it like a dagger, evaporating the flimsy puffs of smoke and darkness.

Grunts and a staticky growling grabbed Rose’s attention. Daring and the Shadow Jaguar were tangled together on the ground near the edge. Daring was on her back, struggling to keep its razor-sharp fangs out of reach of her neck while trying to get a hindhoof under its gut. Rose bit down around her flaming book and lunged at it.

The Shadow Jaguar hissed at the sudden appearance of fire and leapt back. Its face was briefly illuminated in gold and red; all Rose could see was a mouth filled with fangs and dripping oil. Grabbing the book, Rose pushed her advantage and swung at the Shadow Jaguar. It twisted around her fiery stab and snapped at Rose’s foreleg, knocking the book from her grip. Suddenly its fangs were in her face, and Rose backed up, leaning and dodging.

Her hindhoof stepped onto open air. She stumbled, instinctively lunging forward to keep herself over solid ground, but that put her face to face with the Shadow Jaguar. It snapped at her, its sticky breath washing over her face; then a burst of fire ignited over its back. The Shadow Jaguar yelped and tried to jump free before exploding in fiery bits that scattered over the ground. Daring stood among the embers, holding the book and covered in soot.

They peered over the edge. Midnight was only a few meters away, and in Cairo’s light Rose could see her face: eyes wide, level, and unblinking; ears flat; and teeth bared. Cairo’s chain had wrapped around her barrel, and she had a couple links in a death grip.

Daring and Rose grabbed Midnight, hauled her over the edge, and pulled her towards the wall. The chain connecting Midnight to Cairo flickered then evaporated.

For a quiet moment, only Midnight moved, clutching at the ground and muttering to herself; then Daring reached for her hoof and said, “Let’s go, Midnight.”

“No!” Cairo yelled. “She’s mine!” He lunged at Midnight, his horn igniting.

Rose slid between them, planted her forehooves, and bucked back Cairo in the barrel. A solid impact. Cairo shrieked and tumbled sideways, stumbling over his hooves, and fell over the edge.

Panting, Rose placed herself between Midnight and the edge. If she was a betting pony she’d expect one of those chains to come whipping up for Midnight to pull her down—

Something cold and hard clamped around her left hindleg. She yelped in surprise. The chain wrenched her backwards, pulling her off her hooves towards the edge. She collapsed onto her stomach and skidded across the ground, scrambling to grab something.

“Help!”

Daring leapt for the edge and dropped to her gut. She reached out for Rose’s hooves, but her own were slippery with sweat and grime and she couldn’t keep a grip. Rose slid back until she was hanging from her forelegs, her head barely above ground.

“Daring! Ah’m slipping!”

“Don’t worry! I’m gonna—” Daring leapt into the air and flew down behind Rose. She tried to get her forelegs under Rose’s shoulders but with so little space all Daring managed was to pull Rose further from the edge.

“I—I can’t lift you—” Daring gasped, her head right beside Rose’s.

“Don’t let go!” Rose yelled, panicking. One foreleg slipped free and she lurched downwards—suddenly she was hanging from one hoof, while Daring strained and grunted, trying to lift her up. She could feel the emptiness below her, could already feel the distance she would fall, could feel Daring’s forelegs slipping from around her shoulders. The chain connected around her hindleg was pulling too hard—her leg was going to pop free. “Oh, Princess! Help! DARING!”

“Midnight! Book!”

A flash of fire appeared above Rose. Daring grabbed the book from midair and dug the burning corner into the chain pulling Rose down. The links severed and Rose popped upwards, quickly scrambling for grip and pulling herself over the edge.

Even as Daring was helping Rose to her hooves there was a flash and a whoosh; then a pale haze shot up from the depths like a burst of steam, stunning Rose and knocking her back. Cairo’s bridge rattled and shook itself apart in an explosion of timber under the onslaught, and the fire on Daring’s book fluttered, nearly going out. Angry shouts bubbled up, along with the sounds of hungry Shadow Ponies.

“He’s still down there!” Rose yelled over the roar. “He’s still alive!”

A slab of rock crashed violently into the other landing.

“Forget him!” Daring yelled back, waving the flaming book. “We’ve gotta go!”

They hoisted Midnight up onto Rose’s back and Daring pointed at the wall. Stairs had been dug into the slightly slanted wall, climbing to the side. Without a second’s hesitation Rose leapt over the first few stairs and started climbing. There wasn’t much more room than earlier, but at least those had had reassuring walls on either side; here, half of her vision was dizzying empty space above fatal heights.

The ground buckled, launching her upwards and off balance. Daring banked and slammed into her, keeping her and Midnight pressed tight against the wall as she fell. She stumbled when she found stairs under her hooves again, but clenched her jaw shut and forced herself to keep climbing.

Distracted by motion, she looked over to watch a massive stalactite break free and tumble into the darkness. She couldn’t quite tell when it landed; she certainly couldn’t hear it over the clamber of her hooves or the roar of Cairo’s expiring magic. Another chunk of rock followed suit, this one much closer and almost hitting the stairs.

Daring flew ahead and pointed at a dark patch in the rock wall. Rose slowed and squeezed herself into the sudden opening. She could hear Daring cursing as the narrow tunnel pulled at her feathers and knocked against her helmet. With Daring and her torch book behind her, Rose couldn’t figure out how she was able to see the steps in front of her hooves; then she realized there was a bright spot ahead of her, steadily getting larger and brighter.

“Whoo!” she yelled, as a burst of energy poured through her.

The bright spot ballooned in size until Rose was leaping through it, sailing through the suddenly open sky. The heady smell of grass—grass!—and ripe apples—delicious!—plugged her nose and filled her lungs while she was still midair. She was laughing, suddenly, feeling the stress and tension drain from her body, quickly to be replaced with exhaustion.

The ground rushed up at her. She botched the landing badly, tripping over her own hooves and sprawling over the grass, and Midnight went tumbling, but she didn’t care. Rose grabbed hooffuls of grass, rolled onto her back, and shouted happily.

It was night. The moon hung overhead, obscured only occasionally by a Pegasus zipping around and yelling at the top of her lungs, and to the side, off in the distance, were the familiar, comforting lights from Sweet Apple Acres.

They trudged home through the orchard, with Twilight slung across Applejack’s back like a drunk. Applejack reveled in how quiet it was, finally, after the collapsing debris and evil howls and roaring explosions. Now all she could hear was Twilight snoring gently, the crunch of twigs and grass underhoof, Twilight groaning, leaves rustling in the breeze, Twilight muttering to herself, and massive yawns likely ripping Dash’s and her faces apart.

Then she realized Dash was talking to her.

“Huh?” Applejack said, blinking harder than she’d ever blinked before.

“I said—yawn—can I crash with you tonight? I don’t think I can make it home.”

Applejack shook her head. They’d been fighting for their lives against monsters bent on tearing them apart and evil threatening to spread across the country—and Dash was worried about where she could sleep?

“Real smooth. Ah—yawn—Ah suppose you’ve earned a night on the couch.”

“The couch?” Dash whined.

Applejack laughed. “We’ll put Twilight in mah bed. Don’t worry, Dashie. You won’t be alone. Ah’ll be down there with you. Ah’ll sleep with you,” she teased.

Dash laughed and nudged up beside her for a moment.

They left the southern orchard and plodded up the road. A breeze pulled and pushed at the apple trees around them, sending gentle shadows dancing in the moonlight. It was pleasantly warm out. The air smelled fresh. The slight hill was going to be the death of Applejack.

“I hope she’s okay,” Dash said suddenly.

Applejack glanced over her shoulder. Twilight had taken one look at the open sky then promptly passed out. “Me too. Hard to be mad at somepony who’s hurt.”

“I’m okay,” Twilight grunted. “Not hurt. Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.”

Applejack skidded to a stop and nearly dropped Twilight in shock. “You’re awake?” she asked, trying to twist around to see.

No answer. Twilight certainly looked dead to the world.

Applejack and Dash shared a look, then Dash said, slowly, “We’re not mad—”

“Ah’m a little mad,” Applejack admitted.

Dash glared at her. “—We just wanna know why you were down there.”

“I would be,” Twilight said. “I’m sorry. Did you like your make-believe adventure?”

“Like our—Sure. Why not?”

“I did it for you. You’re my best friends. You two, the others, the pink one—you all mean so much to me and I never say that and I wanted to do something for you and also I hate being a Princess. I’m sorry.” A pause. “Did you throw me off a bridge?”

“She’s delirious,” Dash said quickly.

Applejack asked, “Are you sure you’re okay? Twilight?”

No answer. Twilight’s snoring filled the orchard.

Dash threw a forehoof up in disgust. “Fuck it! I don’t even care. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Applejack nodded, then corrected, “You mean later today.”

“Shit.” Dash yawned. “So . . . are you mad at me?” she asked, glancing at Applejack before quickly looking away.

I’m too tired for this. “Later today,” she insisted, resuming her death march. Future Applejack’s problem.

Dash pressed up against her, again. It was darling, even if she was going to push Twilight off. Then Applejack realized Dash was using her for support. Still kind of darling.

Sweet Apple Acres seemed so far away, but she could see a light left on in her bedroom. A laugh bubbled out, quickly replaced by coughing. She was going to have a sore throat for a while.

“What’s so funny?” Dash asked.

“Ah can climb ladders. Ah can—yawn—run marathons in the dark. And Ah’m an expert martial artist, apparently. But—” she pointed home. Her window was on the second floor. “Ah don’t think Ah can made it up those fucking stairs!”

Howling, yawn-filled laughter filled the air.

Author's Note

Author’s notes are available here. The next chapter, titled either The Couch or The Southern Orchard, will be posted in two weeks.

If you've been with us up to this point, now would be a great time to leave a thumbs-up. Or a thumbs-down, if that's more your style.

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Chapter 15: The Southern Orchard

Twilight was dreaming.

It was obvious, immediately: the air around her had the quality of not really being there, and she was neither underground, in the jungle, nor safe and sound in a bed in Sweet Apple Acres (where she suspected her body now lay). Instead, the ground underhoof was hard and barren and cracked, and a body-temperature breeze blew through her mane. In contrast to the rolling grasslands and forests near Ponyville, there were no signs of life. If she had to guess, she had found herself in a desert, and judging by the glow on the horizon, it was just before morning.

She looked down her front and rubbed her chest. It was sore, but there was no sign of the wound—not even a scar. The library’s copy of Daring Do and the Legend of the Metalsmith had taken most of Rainbow Dash’s knife, but she knew the blade had to have at least pricked her skin to free her of the Tome’s malignant influence—unless it hadn’t.

So, dreaming. And one of her best friends had probably stabbed her, which was something.

“Hello?” she called out, without really expecting a response.

Twilight started walking, not really sure where she was or where she was going. Her hoofsteps rapped sharply on the desert floor. Instead of stars, light came from a low-hanging purple moon, lending an eerie color to everything. Tiny shadows danced around her, never quite coming close. These weren’t the aggressive Shadow Ponies that had been hounding her all night; these had the fearful inquisitive nature of foxes.

She paused, tilting her head. When they were shapeless and small like this, they didn’t seem as threatening. A few even swam up to her hooves before darting away. She giggled.

“How did you little ones make it out?” she asked quietly, reaching out to touch one.

“How did you?” a sensual, decadent voice asked.

Twilight gasped and spun around. A tall Shadow Pony mare with wings and a horn stood before her, regal and majestic. Before it could act Twilight shot a bolt of pure white light at the Alicorn, striking it in the chest. It cried out and tried to jump away, but from the wound poured a thick syrup of Shadow Magic that started flowing over her chest and down her legs. She wailed and cried and yelled, her voice distorting and stretching out. In a panic Twilight tried to take flight but the Shadow Magic shot up and over her body, wrapping her tight, covering her face—she couldn’t breathe!

Twilight crashed to the floor and flailed awkwardly, trying to find a way out of whatever was covering her. Eventually she caught hold of the blanket and pulled herself free, and lay gasping on her back, her heart hammering.

She was in Applejack’s room, on the floor beside the bed, looking up at the ceiling. The sun was bright, pouring in through the window. The room was homey. It smelled like breakfast had been cooked and eaten a couple hours earlier. Other than a faint birdsong—how long had it been since she’d heard music?—the house was quiet.

She unwrapped herself from the blanket and struggled up onto all fours. Her left hindleg gave a painful twinge, but for the first time since growing a jungle her horn didn’t ache. Her forehead felt free of a large weight she’d gotten used to carrying, and it was bliss. The only evidence of the previous day’s adventure was a square of bandaging cloth taped to her chest, and an ache that throbbed. A splotch of blood had stained through to the surface and had dried to a dark, muddy brown. The area was tender when she touched it. She carefully peeled back a corner, revealing a small cut, long and thin.

She frowned and replaced the bandage. A giant yawn fought its way out, then she plodded out into the hallway.

“Is anypony home?” she called out, more out of a fear of intruding than a need for help. No answer. The house creaked around her as she walked down the stairs, and she revelled in the calm bright home and the delicious odors of an earlier breakfast. The kitchen had its curtains closed, infusing the room with a warm, gentle glow.

“Hello?” she tried again, walking through the kitchen towards the front door. Her voice was rough and raw, like she’d been yelling all night after not drinking enough water all day. She opened the door and winced, bringing her foreleg up to block the sudden sunlight for a moment.

It was bright. Maybe it was because she’d been underground for the better part of the past day, but the farm was positively shining. She walked outside, closing the door behind her. A gentle breeze flew over her, sending ripples across the ground and stirring the thick leaves on the trees surrounding their yard. Too much motion.

She closed her eyes and stood still for a few moments, focusing on the fresh air. Absently she worried at the bandage on her chest.

There was a lot she needed to do. She could feel a checklist poking at her, trying to get her attention. Check on Spike and the Library. Eat. Chores and errands. Practice—

“It’s so . . . routine,” she muttered, feeling pulled in three directions. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at the barn. “Yesterday was loft day, so that means today—”

Hidden under the whisper of the breeze Twilight thought she heard the solid thunk of hooves on applewood.

“—is southern orchard day.” She gulped, then nodded, held her head high, and followed the path towards the sun.

The harsh midday sun was lessened somewhat as she followed the cart path between the apple trees of the southern orchard. Twilight still hadn’t found Applejack but from the repetitive solid strikes cracking through the air she knew she was getting close.

“Hmm. Repetitive, but not regular. She must be more tired than—”

She skidded to a stop. Motion beneath her hooves—not hers. Her shadow was shifting and flexing, like a foal waking up from a nap.

“That’s unusual,” Twilight muttered to herself.

Her shadow froze, almost as if it had heard her, had felt her eyes on it. Twilight waited, and eventually the shadow resumed exploring the ground around her hooves.

Twilight brought her hoof up to her bandage and pressed until it hurt. That’s more unusual. This warrants investigation.

To-do: Investigate how I can feel discomfort while dreaming.

Satisfied, she watched the shadow look this way and that way, exploring the environment, then she continued on towards the sounds of her friends.

Recently cleared of apples, the low-hanging branches around her shifted pleasantly in the breeze. Shadows danced around between the tree trunks and across the path, though never near hers. She couldn’t seem to ignore them and think about what to say to Applejack when she saw her—they pulled her attention around, fleeing when she bent low to inspect them. She rubbed her eyes and tried not to yawn. It was hard to focus. Much easier to think about spells and storytelling.

A pair of arguing voices caught her attention.

“What’s that supposed to mean? It’s sure as hay not my fault Cairo found us. He’s not even supposed to be real, Applejack. How’s that my fault?”

“We didn’t have to go after him. He took yer book. Could’a left it at that.”

Thwack

“Oh, yeah, sure, Ms. Don’t Mess With Apples. When’s the last time somepony mugged you and you let them go, huh?”

“Ain’t never been mugged.”

Thwack

“Would you stop for just one moment, AJ? We got Twilight home. Nopony died. We had an adventure. It was fun! Why are you making such a big deal of this?”

“The big deal, Ms. Plan B, is if we’d stopped playing along for just one moment, Twilight woulda stopped too and none of this nonsense woulda happened.”

They were just beyond the nearest tree, and hadn’t seen her, yet. The urge to turn and pretend none of this had happened was very strong, and despite the late hour Twilight could feel a nice, comfy bed calling.

But her friends deserved to know the truth, and Twilight had to see them. She pursed her lips and walked out into the open.

“You really think Twilight would have . . . stopped . . . Oh.”

Rainbow Dash paused when she saw Twilight. Applejack followed her gaze and gulped.

Twilight said, “Um . . . Hi.”

For a moment none of them said anything. She would’ve planned something to say, but standing there she couldn’t remember doing so. Say something. Ignore the scratches and bruises and bite marks. Just—! “About last night—”

Suddenly Twilight found herself surrounded by blue and rainbow and a warm pressure strangely in contrast with the breezy air. “I’m so sorry!” Dash blurted out, crushing Twilight slowly. “I swear, I didn’t mean to try and kill you and then drop you off of a bridge!”

That’s something you don’t hear everyday.

“It’s okay, Dash. I forgive you.” She awkwardly patted Dash around her faceful of mane. “Um, I’m still pretty sore—”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” Looking sheepish, Dash released her and backed up, looking at and then very carefully not looking at the bandage on Twilight’s front, just like Twilight was avoiding their injuries. “Are you okay?” Dash asked hesitantly.

“I think so. What happened last night? I don’t remember much after we made it outside.”

“We carried ya back home,” Applejack said from behind Dash.

Twilight stepped to the side to see her. Applejack looked exhausted: her mane was tangled, there were bags under her eyes, and she was quite obviously holding back a yawn. “You asked us whether we liked our make-believe adventure. Ya said sorry a whole bunch. And then you pretty much passed out. Did you sleep okay?” Applejack asked.

“Of course!” Twilight lied.

Applejack’s eyes narrowed slightly. “There’s some grub left over from breakfast. Didja eat?”

“I’ll . . . uh, I’ll go grab some. But—”

“Good.” Exhausted or not, Applejack casually positioned herself in front of the next tree and placed a powerful kick that Twilight felt more than heard straight to the center of its trunk. A hail of green apples poured into a dozen well-placed baskets.

“So,” Dash started, trying to look casual. “Um. What were you doing down there?”

Twilight frowned. Why had she done it? I didn’t want to think about being a Princess. I wanted Applejack to enjoy playing make-believe. I didn’t want you to stumble around in the forest for a while and give up. Her excuses all sounded so petty.

“I thought I could do better,” she finally admitted. It was technically true. “Better than the books. I followed you two into the Everfree and was inspired to make it exciting. Every hero needs a villain, you know.”

Twilight watched Applejack as she moved from tree to tree, pretending not to listen.

“So I . . . gave you a villain. And a temple. And some excitement. And then I started digging. All of that was me.”

Dash stared. “You really—Like, you made the labyrinth? You made Cairo and the Shadow Ponies and all those minions?” Dash’s eyes grew wide and suddenly she was having trouble standing still. “That was so epic! And the ladders? The statue? How did you do that thing with the light?” She gave up and jumped into the air and hovered in front of Twilight. “Were you Midnight Oil all along? You had to be. She was way too clever to be some spell. But then what about Cairo? How did you—”

“Rainbow Dash,” Applejack interrupted, sounding irritated. “Ah distinctly remember you sayin’ you’d do these chores.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dash said sullenly, and planted herself down in front of the next tree. For a few minutes Twilight watched the two work in silence, both pretending their earlier argument hadn’t happened—hadn’t been about her.

Twilight waited until Applejack had finished collecting the apples from one of the trees, then cleared her throat.

Applejack spoke up before she could say anything. “Listen, Sug’. Ah know yer probably worried about us, maybe even a little nervous like we’re mad or somethin’. But we ain’t mad. Ah think Ah know why you did all that stuff last night. And as near as we can tell we ain’t hurt. No reason to get upset.”

“But you are upset,” Twilight said, “at Rainbow Dash.”

Applejack was quiet for a moment, focusing on the tree behind her. Twilight was very aware of Dash awkwardly watching from the next tree. “Whether or not Ah’m mad at Dash is between me an’ her.”

Thwack.

“Not when it’s about me!” Twilight insisted, following Applejack to the next tree. When Applejack lined herself up, Twilight leapt around between her and the tree. “Applejack!”

Applejack huffed and turned to face her. “It’s not about you, Twilight.” She glanced at Rainbow Dash and continued, “It was Dash that got us into that mess in the first place—”

“Hey!”

“—all because she was a little lonely.”

“I was not a little lonely,” Rainbow Dash snarled. She stomped up to Applejack. Her ears were folded back and her tail flicked angrily. She pointed her hoof at Applejack. “And you knew it was gonna be risky!”

“Since when did make-believe mean risky? We nearly died!”

“Yeah, several times, and it wasn’t always my fault! You kept going just as much as I did. Remember? When we first got underground? You turned away from the entrance and led the way!”

“Look, Dash—” Twilight started.

“You wanted to go after Cairo at their camp! Even though ya knew we were outnumbered, lost, and up against two Unicorns!”

“Applejack—”

“You got crazy mad at Cairo, too. You got so mad you nearly fell off a ladder. How’s that my fault?”

“Girls—”

“Sure as hay not me that—”

“It was me!” Twilight yelled, then winced at the sudden silence.

Dash paused, mouth open, ready to sling some other accusation. Applejack leaned back, eyes wide. Twilight plowed ahead. “You didn’t risk your lives because you had nothing to do. You didn’t risk your lives to get out of a few chores. You risked your lives because—” she paused, startled by a sudden thickness of guilt in her voice “—because I hate my crown and your wings and your incredibly complicated Earth Pony Magic.”

Applejack’s expression softened. “Twi . . . ”

“I stole the novel in the first place. I tried to bury you. I tried to drown you. I tried to tear you to shreds. What do you mean, you’re not mad at me?” she demanded.

“But those were the coolest parts!” Dash insisted. When Applejack glared at her she winced and added, “I mean, yeah. Okay. You might’ve gotten a teensy bit carried away. But yesterday was fun, mostly. And even if Applejack won’t admit it, she had fun too. Mostly.”

Applejack kept glaring, then gave Twilight an apologetic smile. “Twi,” she started. “Ah know you tend to blame yerself for things, but last night wasn’t yer fault. Sure, ya scared us into thinking we’d be buried. Ya put those ladders there and let us climb ’em. Ya gave us snapstones and let us miss, and hay, let me tell you how scary it is when yer friend takes her sweet time showing up at a rendezvous. None of that would make me mad.”

“But—”

“But,” Applejack said, cutting off Twilight, “whatever yer reason, it wasn’t you that wanted to—” Applejack paused, pursing her lips, then finally continued, “—that wanted to hurt Dash. Or me. That’s all that matters: it weren’t you.”

Twilight paused, mouth open.

“It’s plain that Shadow Magic got a hold of you,” Applejack continued, moving on to the next tree. “Stabbed you right in the back. We watched it grab yer hooves and grab Dash and grab that knife. Ah know you wouldn’t hold a knife over Dash, not ever, even for pretend.”

Applejack faced away from the tree, checked over her shoulder, and lined herself up. “You wouldn’t try convince me—” thwack “—that Ah had to beg for our lives.” Thwack. “You wouldn’t make yer best friends think you were actually dying.”

Crunch. The last few apples tumbled into waiting baskets.

“You wouldn’t try to make me face mah worst fears. Send me back to the dark place Ah used to know when things weren’t goin’ so well. Shove me flat up against the hardest decision Ah could ever have to face. The Twilight Ah know wouldn’t make me wonder whether it was worth another death in the family for the chance to save Dash. So how could Ah be mad at you? That wasn’t really you, right? Right?”

Applejack bucked the tree behind her so hard that it cracked down the middle.

“Tell me it wasn’t you!” Applejack panted, eyes shut tight, grimacing at the ground.

Twilight looked away. “It wasn’t me,” she whispered.

“You’re lying!”

“I’m sorry!” Twilight exclaimed, aware of how pathetic and thin her defense was. “I didn’t know any of that was going to happen. I didn’t realize anything was going on until it was too late. I thought everything was going really, really well. I know I got carried away—”

“Carried away?” Applejack barked.

Twilight looked away and muttered, “I just wanted you two to have a great adventure. I wasn’t trying to trick you. Honest!”

“Ah wouldn’t care if you had. Plenty of ponies try and trick us country folk all the time. It’s harder than ya think,” Applejack said. “What Ah care about is how easily ya toyed with me. Ah meant what Ah said down there. Ah’ve done some mean things before, and Ah don’t regret a single one of ’em. But Ah ain’t never been so willing to hurt somepony as Ah was last night, and Ah would’a regretted that. It hurts to know that pony would’a been you.”

Twilight hung her head.

Applejack turned to inspect the tree she’d injured. “Aw, shoot. Ah’m sorry, Marigold.”

“No way. I don’t buy it.” Dash stomped in front of Applejack. “You may have been this crazy wannabe-badass in the past but there’s no way you’d want to hurt Twilight—you wanted to save her.”

Applejack rolled her eyes. “Of course Ah wanted to save her. But Ah didn’t know how far gone she was. And if Ah have to choose between a friend who’s about to die, and the pony about to kill her—then, yeah, Ah choose the friend.”

Dash stepped back, looking like Applejack had suddenly grown wings and a horn. “You would never be too far gone,” she said, glaring. “Not if you needed saving. And neither was Twilight. Don’t you remember what you said? ‘Get yer ink out of her mind before you stain it completely’? That’s not what you say to a pony that’s too far gone—”

“Dash, stop. Please,” Twilight pleaded.

“No! She’s not allowed to be mad at you. You guys can’t hate each other!”

“We don’t hate each other,” Twilight said, before Applejack could say anything. “And she is absolutely allowed to be mad at me. You two were arguing just a moment ago.” Twilight glanced at Applejack before looking at her hooves. “You don’t hate me, right?”

Applejack scowled. “Yer certainly makin’ things real difficult.”

Applejack’s hooves appeared in front of Twilight’s. Twilight’s shadow backed up out of the way. Twilight winced. Applejack said, “Look me in the eye and tell me, Twilight. Ah need to know. You planned everything else. Was that Shadow Magic real?”

Keeping her head ducked, Twilight looked up at Applejack. “I know I made a mistake, Applejack—”

“Don’t tell me about yer mistakes!” Applejack towered over Twilight, even though she was normally shorter than Twilight. She looked angry—and desperate. “Just tell me, Twi, what—what is that?”

“Huh?”

“That!” Applejack leapt back and pointed at Twilight’s hooves. "Yer shadow!"

“What about my shadow?”

“Don’t’cha see it?”

“Of course I—Oh.”

Her shadow was trying to pull itself free. It stretched and reached and tried to fly away, but it was either very weak or not trying very hard.

Applejack’s shadow, in contrast, was not moving.

“That. I’m sorry. It’s been following me all morning. Hold on—I think I can—” Twilight ducked her head, tilting her horn towards her shadow. The magic to blast it with a full-spectrum sunbeam was simple. She flicked her horn and—

It’s my fault you’re down here—

A jolt of pain shot through her skull. She gasped, messing up the spell. Her sunbeam spluttered and sliced through the Shadow Alicorn’s hooves, disconnecting it from hers.

Still pressed out against the ground, elongated and skewed like all the others, the Shadow Alicorn stood facing her for several seconds. It flared its wings wide, stretching across the path completely, and stood proud. Twilight’s wings fluttered in a pitiful imitation, and Twilight, still ashamed in front of Applejack, couldn’t find the presence to stand it down.

Applejack and Rainbow Dash stood on either side, hooves spread, teeth bared and jaws clenched. Twilight wasn’t sure what they could do: the Shadow Alicorn was already in full view of the sun, and neither of them had any snapstones left.

Then, with a jerk of its horn, the Shadow Alicorn teleported away, leaving a cloud of mist to settle over the grass.

Twilight watched the shadow disappear. Already the strong sunlight was drying the dewy grass where it had stood.

“Did y’all just see that?” Applejack asked. “Ah didn’t imagine that, right?”

“Where’d it go?” Dash asked, jumping into the air. “C’mon! We can still catch it.”

Twilight took a deep breath. “Dash, what happened—”

“Come on, guys! Don’t do that thing where you stand around talking. It’ll be impossible to find a shadow if we lose it.”

“Dash,” Twilight said, louder.

“They’re literally everywhere!”

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight yelled, watching the ground where the Shadow Alicorn had stood. It was long gone. “What happened to the book you brought out of the chamber?”

Dash blinked, and slowly settled on the ground. “I . . . don’t know,” she admitted with a wince. “I don’t think it was the Tome, if that’s what you mean. But it might have maybe possibly touched some of that ink on the ground?”

“Where is it?”

Dash shrugged. “I must’ve left it somewhere. I wasn’t really thinking about it.”

“You left a burning book in the grass?”

“Well it wasn’t burning then, obviously—”

“Hold on, I need a checklist—”

“That really wasn’t you, was it?”

Twilight paused, her horn ignited and ready to conjure her emergency checklist pack. She turned to face Applejack. Applejack had sat herself down and was staring in disbelief at the last point they’d seen the Shadow Alicorn.

“Well . . . that was my shadow, so—”

“Ah thought you were acting,” Applejack said. “Ah was certain you’d gone too far and didn’t wanna own up to it.”

“Applejack—”

“Ya made Cairo and those cats and those traps and all those ladders, right? Ya made a city designed to get us lost, filled it with monsters, and then tossed us down a waterfall. And you tell us that was all fine, no problem. No real danger. How could Ah believe all that stopped at the Tome?” She looked at Twilight, desperation on her face. “You made it out of a library book!”

Twilight rubbed at her forehead. “It’s not that simple,” she finally said. “I didn’t make Shadow Magic. At least, I didn’t mean to.” She looked at Dash. “Those spells in the book—that’s not how magic is supposed to work. Not on their own.”

“Huh? In the book?” Dash tilted her head, confused. “Well, duh. Even I know that.”

“But they did work, Dash,” Twilight explained. “Like real spells. I was reading them aloud and things happened.” Twilight frowned, nodding slowly, as thoughts occurred in her head.

“And that wasn’t just you doing magic without noticing?”

Twilight scowled. “Do you do flying without noticing, Dash? Unicorns generally don’t cast magic without intending to.” She took a deep breath, and exhaled. It was complicated, even for her, but they had to understand.

“There have always been radical theories about storytelling. Some . . . eccentric scholars believe it to be a powerful medium for casting magic. Not just from spellbooks, and not just the knowledge of magic, but a fundamental force in storytelling. That transcendance from reporting facts to storytelling grants the author a taste of that magic—sometimes fleeting, sometimes not.”

She glanced at their faces, wondering if they were still following. “Some of the most famous Unicorns were bards, and there’s no doubt they were capable of real magic. Most are famous because of their ability to tell stories about the powerful magic they’ve woven—but maybe the magic they’ve woven is powerful because of the stories they tell?”

“So, what?” Dash asked. “Somepony tells a good story and that casts magic?”

“Storytelling is magic, Dash. It’s just not normally the kind ponies associate with Unicorns.” Twilight shook her head. “At the risk of sounding incredibly arrogant . . . I think I created magic last night. New magic. Or, maybe I rediscovered old magic. There have always been stories about creatures that hide in the shadows and monsters that go bump in the night. Maybe that’s where Shadow Magic comes from.”

“No way,” Applejack said. “Parents tell their kids about bugaboos and spooks just to get ’em to behave. That don’t make ’em real.”

“Yeah! And just last sleepover you were telling scary stories too,” Dash said, then snorted. “Applejack shrieked so hard I thought she’d wet herself!”

“Hey! Ah did not—Get plowed, Rainbow Dash!” she said, smacking her.

Dash winced and rubbed her shoulder, but there was a smirk there, too. “So what’s changed?”

“I have,” Twilight said, feeling the bandage on her chest. “I’m an Alicorn. I’m the Princess of Magic. I can fly. I have Earth Pony Magic. And, apparently,” she said, whirling her hoof through the air, “I can accidentally make monsters and unleash them upon Equestria if I’m not careful. That’s—that’s—Ugh!” she growled, then deflated, sighing. “That’s just fucking great.”

Dash gasped in mock horror. “Twilight! Such language is unbefitting of a Princess.”

“Well, Dash, it’s a good thing I’m not a real Princess.”

“Oh. Yeah. Uh, classic Rainbow Dash,” Dash said, forcing out an awkward laugh.

They were silent for a while, then Twilight said, hesitantly, “I’m sorry, Applejack. The Shadow Magic wasn’t intentional, but me scaring you was. I’m sorry for putting you through all that without asking first.”

Applejack looked away and sighed. Twilight reached out to her, touched her shoulder. She was trembling. “Applejack?”

“It’s fine. I forgive you.” She swatted away Twilight’s hoof.

“Oh, Applejack—”

“Don’t Oh, Applejack me!” Applejack spun and glared. “Ah thought you and Dash were gonna die. Ah can’t handle that. Ah cannot bear the thought that you would leave me.”

Dash nudged up beside her, wrapped a foreleg around her, and chuckled. “Oh, Applejack,” she teased. “You clearly don’t know us very well if you think we’d leave you like that. I’m far too cool to die. You know that.”

Applejack coughed out a laugh.

Dash tilted her head. “And I’m pretty sure Twilight’s an immortal Princess now, so she won’t be dying any time soon.”

Don’t think about that don’t think about that don’t think—“She’s right, Applejack. And I’m sorry for that, too. For letting it go so far. I know that doesn’t make it right, but I am anyways.”

Applejack took a deep breath and nodded. “Ah know you are. Ah’m just gonna be a little salty for a while.” She gave a small smile. “Nothin’ a hard day of motivatin’ Dash can’t solve.”

Dash jerked back and stared. “Hey. Whoa! I’m still way sore from last night. And I’m already covered in all these scratches and bruises. I’ll be good. You don’t need to motivate me.”

Applejack laughed. “What’s done is done, Sug’. Ah know you didn’t mean nothing by it.” She looked Twilight in the eye and said, “That don’t mean Ah ain’t mad, but Ah forgive ya.”

That’ll have to do.

Finally Applejack climbed to her hooves. “What do we do about the Shadow Pony?” she asked, pointing off away from the sun.

Twilight looked from the horizon to Applejack’s hooves, then at her own. She wasn’t casting a shadow anymore. It was a little freeing.

“We find it,” she said, suddenly. Behind the guilt and pride, behind the shame and triumph was the one thing Twilight realized she’d needed all along: direction. “It’s weak now, but if it finds the right source of power it could become unstoppable.”

“We’re with you,” Dash said immediately.

Applejack nodded. “Obviously. And, Twi?” Applejack stepped up in front of Twilight. She didn’t look that imposing anymore. “That other Twilight, when she said you were having trouble and couldn’t talk to anypony? Said we didn’t listen when you wanted help?” Applejack wrapped a foreleg around her shoulders. How is she so strong all the time? “Ah meant every word Ah said down there—”

“You mean the bit about assault? Arson? A family history of vigilante justice?”

Applejack coughed. “Uh . . . Well, yeah. That too.”

Twilight blinked.

“ . . . but Ah meant the sister thing. Ah would do anything to keep you safe and happy. None of this would’a happened if Dash and Ah had paid more attention to ya, but y’all need to say so. Us country bumpkins are not known for readin’ minds.”

“Hey, yeah!” Dash said, nuzzling close. “We’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” Twilight whispered after a moment. A small smile snuck over her face.

“And, hey!” Rainbow Dash let go and backed up. “At least AJ and I agreed on one thing.” She and Applejack shared a grin. “It was an awesome adventure.”

“It was.” Applejack reached up and rubbed the back of her neck. “Ah don’t suppose you’d want to do your theater thing again sometime? Maybe with less stabby-stabby?”

“Well, I have a bunch of other Daring Do books at the library, so if you want—”

“Sometime,” Applejack repeated. “Not now.”

“Right. Maybe I’ll plan something and let you know.” She put a hoof to her chin and frowned, looking at her other hooves. “Until then, I need to see the Princess about the Shadow Alicorn.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to help?”

Twilight nodded. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over and over, it’s that you can rely on your family and friends to guide you—whether you’re lost underground in an abandoned city, or lost your own head, surrounded by worries.”

Applejack and Dash leaned in, nuzzling close. Twilight closed her eyes and hummed happily. She knew that with the three of them working together, there was nothing they couldn’t do.

Then Dash coughed.

“Gay-yee!”

“Shut up!”

Author's Note

Author's notes are available here. The epilogue has been posted alongside this chapter.

If you haven't already done so, consider leaving a quick comment!

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr

Epilogue

The train was usually quieter than this, and Twilight was sure it could go faster, too.

On the bench opposite hers, Rainbow Dash and Applejack were deep into a card game that Twilight had never had the chance to learn. Dash was squirming and fidgeting, holding her cards close to her face and occasionally peering at those lying in front of Applejack.

“You know, Applejack,” Rainbow Dash muttered, “if you’d just stop cheating, I’d be doing a lot better.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Applejack drawled. “You just keep thinkin’ that, missy.” She had risen to Dash’s taunt the first few times, but had since learned to ignore most of what Dash said during their games. She was slouched back against the wall, looking out the window. She held her cards with one hoof and was resting her chin on the other.

The train shuddered over a rougher section of tracks, breaking up the regular monotony of the click-clacking rail lines. The period between clacks is roughly one-point-two seconds—maybe one-point-three . . .

Suddenly Dash perked up. “Oh!” She played a card onto the discard pile, turned a second already on the table, and drew a third from the draw pile. “Ha!”

Applejack played a card onto one of her piles, hiding a card Dash had been coveting.

Dash’s eye twitched. “Whatever. I didn’t need that one.”

The door at the front of the carriage slid open, letting in the click-clacking along with a gust of wind. A pony gasped. Twilight tried to suppress a groan.

Not again . . .

“Princess! Oh, excuse me! I didn’t know—I’ll just—Pardon me!”

Twilight barely had the time to focus on the magenta Earth Pony mare before she’d retreated back through the door into the previous carriage, bowing so fiercely she was practically dragging her chest along the ground. The door closed again, and the carriage quieted slightly.

Rainbow Dash and Applejack had turned to look over the back of their seat at the intruder.

“Huh,” Applejack said. “They keep doin’ that.”

Twilight felt her eye twitch.

Dash tsked. “Should’a taken the private carriage,” she said casually, turning back to her game.

“I am not taking a private carriage, Dash!” Twilight exclaimed, slamming her hoof on the bench. “It’s bad enough I had to tell the staff to leave me alone. I can’t block ponies from eating!”

The door opened again, momentarily letting in the roar from outside.

“Princess Twilight! I’m sorry to interrupt you again. I just need to—Um, the dining carriage is on the other side, and my brother—Um . . . ”

Twilight plastered a smile on her face and said, “That’s okay. You can just call me Twilight. It’s just a title—”

The mare squeaked as she slid across the ground, trying to cross the carriage while maintaining a back-breaking bow. When she passed the princess she turned so she was backing up again. “Oh, Princess, thank you. You’re so gracious. I’ll try not to bother you next time. Thank you!”

She bumped into the other door and shoved it open with her rump, then slid backwards into the dining carriage. Dash and Applejack waited until the door had closed before bursting into laughter.

“Bwa-ha-ha! Did you see that?” Dash cried.

Applejack nodded, trying to catch her breath. “That’s how they sweep the train!”

The two howled and bumped hooves.

Twilight groaned and flopped onto her back. She could feel the rails whizzing past underneath the bench, and waited for Dash and Applejack to stop laughing before saying, quietly, “It’s the wings.”

She turned to look at them. “If ponies notice my wings and then my horn, it’s just a little startling. But when Earth Ponies see the horn first, they worry I might try some voodoo magic on them. Once they see the wings, they don’t see a Princess. They see a scary Princess.”

Dash and Applejack shared a look. “Well, obviously we know you’re not scary,” Dash said.

Applejack nodded. “Unless you wanna be. Then you can be all kinds of scary.”

Twilight ruffled her wing and said, “I might as well make a crown out of them, they’re so conspicuous.”

Rainbow Dash looked faintly upset.

Applejack scrunched up her eyebrows, thinking. “Well, if you wanna break, why not hide yer wings? You could wrap a blanket over yourself—Oh, even better, wear a hat!”

“I’m not hiding my horn, Applejack. It’s who I am!”

“And the wings aren’t?” Dash asked.

Twilight huffed and tried to ignore the niggling thought that Dash might be onto something. After a few moments, Dash and Applejack resumed their game, though the mood was more subdued. Soon the only sounds were shuffling cards and the click-clacking of the rails. The length of standard fishplate-bonded Equestrian rails is 20 meters, with negligible differences due to temperature. Twilight estimated they were travelling at 60km/h, well below the locomotive’s rated top speed of 75km/h. She grinned. Maybe I can pull rank and get them to go faster?

She sat up straight, eyes wide. “They’d do it, too. If I asked.”

“Come again, Twi?”

Twilight shook her head. “It’s just so much responsibility. A month ago I could’ve given suggestions to a pony with the expectation that that pony would apply critical thinking, thus reducing my responsibility if something went awry. Now ponies might blindly listen to what I say. What if I get somepony hurt?”

Applejack nodded. “Well . . . ponies listened to ya all the time before you became a princess.”

“Yeah, Twilight. Even without the crown or the title, you’re Twilight Sparkle. Like, the Twilight Sparkle. Ponies that know you don’t argue with you when you’ve got your game face on.”

Twilight slumped back against the window and sighed. “Maybe you’re right. I know I’m overthinking things.”

The train started to turn. Looking out the window, Twilight could see the train curving ahead and off to the side, ending in the steam locomotive. Because the rail’s curvature was consistent, the train looked remarkably stationary—like the ground was turning underneath them instead. Dash and Applejack’s shadows crawled across the floor of the carriage.

“I’ve got more important things to think about.”

“Don’t you fret none, Sug’. Princess Celestia might not be able to set things right herself, but Ah bet she can point your horn in the right direction.”

“Huh? Not Luna?” Dash asked. “You know, shadows? Darkness?”

Twilight shook her head. “Princess Luna’s domain is comprised of dreams, illusions, and prophecies. Shadow Magic is in the domain of light and color—Princess Celestia’s domain. If the Tome of Shadows had gotten free, Princess Celestia would’ve been its first target.” She tilted her head, considering. “Or, rather, the sun.”

Dash shrugged, waiting for Applejack to take her turn.

The door to the dining cart opened, letting in the outside air. Twilight heard a familiar voice whimper, “No! Wait! You can’t just barge in—”

Just as the door closed, Dash gasped and played three cards, covering each of Applejack’s piles. “Aww, yeah!” she crowed, throwing her hooves in the air and waving them from side to side. “Everything’s coming up Rainbow—Whoops! Hey! Watch where you’re going, mister!”

“You’d better watch where yer puttin’ those hooves, whorse.”

For a moment, the only sounds were the shuddering of the carriage, the click-clack of the rails below, and a whimper. Twilight turned to face the pony Rainbow Dash had hit. It was an Earth Pony stallion, dressed in a filthy vest and wearing two-day stubble. Behind him cowered the mare from earlier.

“What did you just call me?” Rainbow Dash growled, turning around.

“What did you just call her?” Applejack snarled, stepping off of the bench, messing up their card game.

“Oh, why did you call her that?” the mare whimpered from behind him.

The stallion rolled his eyes. “Out of the way before I move ya.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Applejack said, marching up to the stallion and shoving him in the chest.

Twilight gulped. They’re adults, let them be adults.

The stallion laughed at Applejack. “Who are you, her bodyguard? Typical Pegasus weakling. She’d better be paying ya well. Or are you with the Unicorn back there?” he wondered, eyes roaming up and down Applejack’s body. “Now she’d be able to afford some pretty muscle like you.”

Applejack and Rainbow shared a quick glance that likely communicated whole playbooks of strategy; then Applejack clicked her tongue. Her eyes narrowed and she said, “Walk away before I break your legs.”

“She’ll do it,” Rainbow Dash said with a sick grin. “All she’s ever needed is an excuse. A sorry excuse for a stallion like you would do just fine.”

Oh, Princess, stop acting like foals the moment I decide to treat you like grown adults.

The stallion scoffed and pressed closer, deep into their personal space. “Really? Pampered fillies like yourselves? Don’t try and show off. Just go back to your game and let me me get to my business.”

“Not until you say yer sorry to mah friend.”

“Aw, did I hurt her feelings? I’m sorry, daddy’s little filly—”

“Stop.”

Twilight didn’t recognize her own voice reverberating around the carriage, nor the glowing purple feathers that had appeared out of nowhere and were snowing down around them. She barely noticed the interior was suddenly ablaze with her particular hue of magic. She had noticed Applejack’s posture change ever so slightly.

The stallion turned and snorted. “Damned Unicorns. Think you can just mind everypony’s business and boss us . . . around . . . ”

Maybe they’re not so conspicuous?

“I tried to tell you!” the mare squeaked. “That’s the P-P-P-Princess! Princess Twilight! Oh, Princess, please don’t hurt him!”

The stallion’s eyes opened wide for a moment; then he sneered. “So you’re the famous P-P-P-Princess Twilight Sparkle. I’ve heard about you. You know, yer not as tall as the others.”

“On your knees, Subject,” Twilight snarled. A glow of magic shaped like her hoof pressed down on the stallion’s head, planting his face into the floor with a thud.

“Yes, your Highness,” the stallion replied through gritted teeth. He glared at her. “Would you like me to kiss your hooves too?”

“Apologize.”

“I’m so sorry for ruining yer perfect train ride. Maybe ya should’a taken a private carriage—”

The doors between their carriage and the next opened, caught in Twilight’s glow. Applejack and Rainbow Dash scrambled out of the way.

“Leave.”

The pony yelped in shock as Twilight launched him backwards, far into the next carriage. The doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting, Twilight turned to the terrified mare. “I’m so sorry. Please, it’s okay—”

The mare squeaked and ran to follow her brother. The door opened, and Twilight heard her shriek, “What are you doing?!” before it closed again.

The carriage was quiet for maybe a second. Then—

“That. Was. Awesome!” Dash gushed. “You were all, ‘On your knees,’ and he was all, ‘Don’t hurt me! I’m just a rude little turd that didn’t learn anything in preschool—’”

“Thanks, Twi. Ah don’t think Ah was going to just intimidate him much longer.”

“Oh, Celestia. I can’t believe—” Twilight panted, pressing her hoof to her scar and feeling her heart race. She slumped back against the seat and gripped the edge of the bench. The Princess wouldn’t’ve done that. “I shouldn’t have said that. I should not have said that.”

Applejack climbed up beside her and touched her shoulder. “It’s okay, Sug’. It’s okay,” she soothed. “Nopony got hurt, and you taught that stallion a valuable lesson. Everypony wins.”

“I could’ve really hurt him. All because he was rude.”

“He was an asshole about to start shit he couldn’t finish. And ya didn’t hurt him, Sug.”

“And now that poor mare is terrified of me.”

Applejack gave her a quick, tight hug and said, “She oughta be. Nopony messes with a Sparkle.”

Twilight giggled. “I really ought to go up there and apologize. Rude or not, nopony deserves to get handled by magic that way—”

“Twilight!” Dash sighed, exasperated. “Let it go. He’s fine, you’re fine. Just relax. The rest of the ride’s gonna be super boring.” She looked at the mess of cards over the floor. “You wanna play a round?”

Twilight shook her head and retreated to her seat. She lay on the bench and tried to calm her mind and forestall a headache that was forming in the wake of her little moment.

Focus on the sounds of your breathing—

In for four beats. Out for four beats. The gently familiar and repetitive sensations helped a little.

—on the voices of your friends—

Applejack and Rainbow Dash were cleaning up their cards, joking and laughing already. Maybe a little tussle with some random stallion wasn’t out of the ordinary for them. Maybe one day she could be cool like them.

—on the click-clack of the rails . . .

Her eyes popped open.

One-point-six?

She pressed her ear to the bench. The delay between the click-clacks had definitely increased. We’re decelerating? They were in the middle of nowhere and the train hadn’t slowed for any of the previous turns. Some sort of mechanical problem with the locomotive? She leapt to her hooves and stared down the aisle, looking through the window in the door to the next carriage.

There was only open air and the track leading off toward the horizon.

“Sug’? You okay?”

Twilight couldn’t see the locomotive—or even the next carriage. “We’ve been decoupled,” she said simply.

“What?!” Dash exclaimed, whipping around.

“When the hay did that happen?” Applejack asked.

“Must’ve been after the stallion left, or he would’ve stayed put,” Dash offered. “It can’t have been more than a few minutes.”

“What do we do?” Applejack asked. “We’re pretty much in the middle of nowhere.”

Stay calm. Slowing down isn’t exactly life-threatening.

“Hold on,” Twilight instructed. The room illuminated with the reassuring, familiar glow from her horn. The seat pressed gently into her back as the carriage began to accelerate. “First, we have to catch up. Don’t worry, we’ll stay well within safe limits. Rainbow Dash, once we see the rest of the train, please fly across and have the engineer slow down so we can recouple the carriages.”

Rainbow Dash snapped a salute, tilted her head side to side, and cracked her wing joints.

“After that . . . ” Twilight shrugged. “Compose a very strongly worded letter to the owner of this line? With regular maintenance those couplers are foolproof. They have to be decoupled manually.”

“Oh! I bet it was that stallion,” Rainbow Dash said, slamming her hoof into the bench. “I knew he was no good.”

“He was obviously no good, Dash,” Applejack reminded her from the window. “Ah wonder if he kisses that mare with that mouth?”

Twilight shook her head. “That’s his sister. And why would he decouple the train?” she asked.

“’Cause you hurt his feelings?”

“Surely he’s not that petty. It has to be a mechanical fault—”

“You just said it was impossible for them to fail—”

“He woulda done it to get you outta the way,” Applejack said, pointing out the window. “If he were a bandit. Ah see glass on the ground beside the rails.”

“Broken windows?” Dash suggested.

Applejack nodded. “And if he is a bandit, he’s got free reign of the train while we’re stuck back here.”

“You—you think he’s a bandit?” Twilight asked nervously.

Applejack nodded. She and Dash were looking at her—waiting for her to do something.

Twilight nodded slowly, and her horn glowed. Soon she was pressed back into her seat again, and the carriage started vibrating as it reached even higher speeds, bumping and screeching over sections of rail.

“Applejack, it’s taking a lot of concentration keeping us on the rails. Can you tell the ponies in the dining carriage to hold on?”

Applejack waited for the shaking to stop before rushing back through to the other carriage still attached.

“Are we gonna ram them?” Dash asked excitedly.

“Rainbow Dash!” Twilight scolded. “There are ponies aboard those carriages. I’m not going to ram them!” She gulped. “Hopefully. But if there is something going wrong, I’d prefer not to wait.”

Rainbow Dash hmpfed and turned to watch out the window.

The door behind Twilight opened, and Applejack reported, “It’s just the cook, and he said, ‘Ain’t the first time this train’s gotten into trouble.’”

The carriage chose that moment to bounce again, shrieking with metal-on-metal when it landed again.

“You want us to go in and beat up that stallion?” Dash asked hopefully.

“It has to be a mistake. Rude or not, he’s not a bandit unless we catch him in the act—just like any other pony.” Even as she said it, she had the sinking feeling that Applejack was right.

“But if he is?”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “As Elements of Harmony and my personal ambassadors, yes, I’d expect you two to defend innocent ponies from villains.”

Dash and Applejack shared another of those looks, then Applejack turned back to Twilight. “Twi? You thinkin’ what we’re thinkin’?” she asked, a grin on her face.

“That the maximum safe speed for a passenger carriage atop standard fishplate-bonded Equestrian rails is—” point-six-seven seconds “—far below 105km/h? Yes. Yes I am thinking that,” Twilight said, wincing with every jump and shudder from the undercarriage.

Applejack frowned. “Well, uh, that’s not what Ah meant—”

“Twilight! If we’re gonna go to work, we need our uniforms!”

Oh. Despite her racing heart and the looming threat of danger—or perhaps because of them—Twilight found that she rather liked that idea. She floated her saddlebags over between the two of them. Their insides glowed briefly, then Dash and Applejack dug into their contents. Soon Dash—Daring!—was wearing a green shirt and white pith helmet, and Applejack—Rose!—was buttoning up a duster that fit pretty well. Both had grins on their faces. They were exactly how Twilight had imagined Daring Do and Rock Gambit.

I need to pick my own character, she mused.

“Ah can see the other carriages!” Rose Gambit exclaimed, looking out the window. “Oh, but not the locomotive. The carriages ain’t moving. The middle of the train’s been cut out like a green bean.” She looked back at Twilight. “Ain’t no mechanical fault.”

“It’s a robbery!” Daring exclaimed.

Twilight took a deep breath then opened her window. Suddenly the carriage was filled with a roaring wind of dry summer wind. The cards from their game flew around the room. Holding onto the frame, she leaned out, trying to gauge the distance. “Get ready!” she yelled. “I’m gonna try and slide the couplers together, but if I’m off by even a meter per second it’s gonna be rough.”

Rose nodded, and turned to Daring Do. “Can you fit through those windows? Ah’m gonna kick down the door, but it might be good to catch him from the side once he’s distracted.”

“Got it!” Daring yelled, opening her window. “Try to keep up.”

Rose snapped her a grin and teased, “Don’t get distracted, Daring Dumb-ass.”

“Nice!” Daring reached over and the two bumped hooves.

Even as the next carriage rushed closer and closer, Twilight couldn’t help but grin. Their enthusiasm was infectious.

“Here we go!” Daring cried, leaning out the window.

“Braking!” Twilight yelled. Suddenly the undercarriage was shrieking, and all three were wrenched forwards. “Ready?”

“Let’s do it,” Rose said, lining up the business end of her hindlegs with the door. “On three. One—”

“Wait!” Daring cried. “Like, on three? Or, ‘One, two, three, then go’?”

“On three! I just said—”

“Yeah, but every other time—”

The carriage crashed home.

“Three!”

Author's Note

THE END

Author's notes available here. See also a post where I discuss getting featured on FIMFiction.net.

Additionally, a complete download of my Google Docs workspace is available here. I believe that some of you might appreciate seeing how I write, sloppy process and all. All I ask in exchange is a comment or like. They're all the payment we non-Patreon authors get!

Thank you, from the bottom of my being, for reading this and giving me the chance to indulge a desire to write a kick-ass adventure story.

With assistance from Daetrin. Cover art by Foxinshadow. Alternate cover art by Diremuffin.

-wr