Gina had never seen so many ponies in the same place. Back in Panther Pass she had only seen one, and only for a minute. Now they were all around her, along with more types of griffins than she had thought possible.
She stood with her back to the confections stand, licking a maple syrup lollypop in the shape of a crescent moon. She still had a pocketful of coins, and she couldn’t spend it all on candy. Her parents would not be back until the fireworks at midnight, and her sister was probably wandering the festival grounds just as aimlessly with their pet kakapo, Cabbage, perched on her back.
The winged pony behind her handed out a candy necklace and leaned down to speak to her. She could not understand him.
“This is your first time?” He tried again in the griffin tongue. “You’re from Panther Pass, aren’t you?”
Gina nodded, biting a tip off the moon.
“Welcome to the Harvest Moon Festival then,” he said with a smile. “Go on, don’t be shy. Most of us understand you just fine. Try some more snacks. There’s hot mead out there somewhere.”
Gina nodded again. It was strange hearing a pony talk. Gina had always assumed them to be quite dumb in general, since they looked so much like prey. She also didn’t know how they could live without hands.
Further down the street she found hay burgers and roast boar, whole chickens on sticks and fried octopus. There was a gigantic pink stall stacked high with trays of pastries so perfect that Gina was absolutely certain it was not food. Her lollipop was soon replaced with a candy apple, and then a whole skewered octopus.
Papa was right. Skipping lunch was a great idea.
She finished with a steaming mug of foamy mead. The Harvest Moon festival in Kelp Town was the one place where an unsupervised five-year-old could buy a drink.
A hoof shoved her shoulder. The mead went up her nose, making her cough. Somebody was laughing. He said something that she did not understand.
Gina swung her talons in the direction of the voice. The colt screamed in pain and fell backwards trying to get away. She drew her dagger and pounced with her eyes still closed, but was caught in midair.
“That’s enough,” said the blue mare who held her.
With one snap of her hoof she took the dagger away. She wiped off Gina’s face with a handkerchief and waited for her to calm down.
There were more voices laughing. A group of boys were standing a good distance away. Two ponies and three griffins. Gina had to twist her head all the way around to see the grey colt on the ground. He had retreated quite a ways, breathing heavily as he stared at her from behind two adult ponies. There were four shallow cuts across his chest.
“Winter Oat,” the mare said patiently, tightening her hold on Gina. “Why did you do that?”
When the colt did not speak one of the adults shoved him roughly (which pleased Gina). Even in his own language the boy stuttered.
When he finished the mare seemed rather displeased. She passed judgement in the pony language, and shot a vicious glance at the group of older boys.
“This is your first time in Kelp Town?” Asked the mare as she lowered Gina to the ground.
Gina nodded. She reached for her dagger, and got a painful slap to the back of her hand. As it turned out, hooves were effective weapons in their own way.
“I will keep this for tonight,” she continued. “You won’t need it. Get your parents and come find me after the fireworks, and then I’ll give it back. If you can’t find me on the beach just ask for Cotton Loom.”
“It’s mine!” Gina yelled angrily, pouncing at the mare with her talons ready. “Give it back now!”
Cotton Loom caught her with one hoof and threw her to the ground. Gina landed on her feet, stumbled, and fell over.
“I will take care of it,” Cotton Loom said. “I promise to return it tonight.”
Going to the injured colt, she spoke to him in a low voice and started towards the group of boys, who exchanged uneasy looks and dispersed.
The crowd went back to its business. Gina sat up and cried bitterly into her hands. Everything was going so well! Now she was completely unarmed in the middle of a strange city. Suddenly music and food lost their appeal.
A small hoof touched her shoulder. Gina slashed again, but this time the colt was a little more prepared. Her attack left streaks across his face, but did not break skin.
“Leave me alone!” She growled.
“Mama told me to stay with you,” Winter Oat said, foreign words forming awkwardly in his mouth. “Sorry. Friends told me to. Said funny.”
Gina scowled as the boy butcher her language. After he had exhausted the handful of words in his vocabulary he resorted to gesturing with his hooves.
“Alright! Stop!” She yelled, pouncing on Winter Oat and covering his mouth with her hand. “Look, tell me where I can get another knife! Papa made me leave everything in the Upper City! I have nothing but this cloak and a bunch of coins!”
Winter Oat stared at her with a confused look on his face.
Gina groaned and backed off.
“I need a knife!” She said, emphasizing every word and gesturing with her hands. “Where can I get one?”
“You don’t need a knife, kid,” said an owl-headed griffin with four skewered octopuses in one hand. “There’s nothing to hurt you here.”
He then spoke to Winter Oat before disappearing into the crowd. His news made the colt’s ears perk up.
“Come,” he said, taking Gina’s hand with his wrist.
Gina tried to resist, but Winter Oat was an earth pony and therefore stronger. He led her away from the rows of food stands, through a big square where hundreds were dancing to the music of more than one band. Here Gina spotted a few familiar faces, but Winter Oat did not stop.
At the north end of the square the crowd finally thinned. Winter Oat loosened his grip, and Gina immediately shook off his hoof. She sat down in the middle of the road and looked around. The street leading north was lit with multicoloured paper lanterns, and a big wreath of bright autumn leaves hung at every window.
this is nice.
She was starting to feel relaxed when a puff of hot air ruffled her feathers. Her breath caught in her throat, and instinctively she reached for the weapons she did not have. Winter Oat’s eyes widened.
The creature had no eyes on its furry face, only a big wet nose above its grinning mouth. It had to stretch its neck down to get level with Gina.
She struck once with her talons, simultaneously kicking off the ground. To her surprise the animal did not snap at her. Instead it jumped backwards with a sharp yelp, and quickly covered its muzzle with its front paws.
The cart it had been pulling squeaked noisily, and the kids inside shouted in surprise. Gina saw a flash of green wings and heard the unmistakable screaming of a kakapo.
“Gina!” Grace called as she struggled to hold the parrot down.
Meanwhile an orange pegasus filly and a dark-feathered griffin got out of the cart to check on the…
What is that thing anyways?
“Come here!” Grace waved enthusiastically. She had no wings, but for once in her life it did not seem to bother her.
Gina landed behind the cart, while Grace and Cabbage clambered out to meet her.
“Is that a bear?” Gina asked in a low voice.
“It’s a dog, silly!” Grace said.
“Dogs are little!” Gina said. “I know what dogs look like!”
“That was a puppy,” Grace said. “This is a full grown ‘Kelp Town water dog’. Her name is Sasha. Come on! She’s really nice!”
Gina tried to run, but Grace grabbed her tail and dragged her towards the cart. The dog had calmed down somewhat, and was quietly whimpering with her head in the pegasus pony’s lap. She sat up when Gina approached. Her eyes were somewhere beneath that thick mat of hair on her face.
“Go on,” Grace said. “Pet her. She’s nice!”
Grace could only reach halfway up the dog’s neck. Sasha opened her mouth and unrolled a tongue as big as a bath towel.
Gina reached out hesitantly. Sasha snorted, and the pegasus immediately put a comforting hoof on her muzzle. The dog was nothing but hair. Gina backed away when she leaned down, but failed to dodge her dripping tongue.
The dark griffin was speaking to Winter Oat and trying hard not to laugh. Apparently satisfied with what he heard, he pointed the colt to the cart and went to Gina.
“Hey, get in the cart,” he said as Gina scrubbed her beak with the edge of her cloak. “We’re going to the North Harbor.”
“We get to light fireworks!” Grace said, while the kakapo climbed onto her back and spread his wings happily.
“Some mare just took away my knife!” Gina snapped, pulling on her feathers with both hands.
“Yeah, mine too,” Grace said slowly. “It’s okay. You can get it back later.”
Gina glared at her sister. Grace’s face was frozen in an expression of mild amusement. Cabbage rocked back and forth, smiling stupidly.
There’s no way we’re twins!
She climbed into the cart reluctantly, followed by her sister. There was barely any room, and she ended up sitting across from Winter Oat.
He smiled sheepishly as the cart started moving again. Gina crossed her arms and looked away.
The road sloped gently upwards. Sensing her foul mood, Cabbage walked clumsily to Gina and forced his head beneath her arms. The other kids in the cart spoke in the pony language, and though the older griffins did their best to translate for Gina and Grace, only the latter seemed content to sit and listen. Cabbage’s head swiveled like a weathercock in a storm as hands and hooves reached over periodically to pet him.
The North Harbor could barely be called a dock compared to Kelp Town’s main harbor. There was no music here, no food stands. It looked at first glance to be completely empty. A pile of wooden crates stood in the middle of the boardwalk, along with vertical tubes of various sizes. An excited murmur passed through the crowd when they realized what the things were.
Dirty gas lamps hanging from weathered poles provided just enough light to work. There was even an oil torch beside the boardwalk, the kind that went out of common use long before Gina was born.
The dark griffin led the way, almost too confidently. Garret was his name.
“Gordon!” He called out.
Three faces popped up at the edge of the dock, startling a few of the children. One was a griffin just out of boyhood, while the other two were pink stallions. Gina did not notice anything unusual about the ponies at first, until one of them unfolded a pair of large bat wings.
“You know,” Gordon said as he looked over the kids on the dock. “Papa will skin me alive if he ever finds out about this.”
“You better have lots of skin then.” Garret sneered and tossed down a small jingling pouch.
The two bat ponies helped the children down the ladder onto one of two big dories. Garret went into the other with a lantern and rowed it far from the dock. Once again Gina was placed much too close to Winter Oat. The colt put one hoof on her shoulder, perhaps by accident, and was nearly pushed overboard as a direct consequence.
There were six mortars on the boat, pointed nearly straight up. The bat ponies rowed quickly. The children screamed as the boat rocked from side to side, and Gina almost pulled a muscle trying to stay upright. More than once the rim of the boat dipped within an inch of the water line. Cabbage dug his talons into Gina’s shoulder and flailed around wildly. Winter Oat laughed when he noticed this, but coughed when Gina raised her fist.
“What’s the matter with you?” One of the bat ponies asked, grabbing Gina by the wrist when she pushed the colt off the bench. “That’s no way to spend the Harvest Moon Festival! What, did he call you ugly?”
“He spilled my drink on purpose!” Gina said.
The two bat ponies burst out laughing. The one at the stern struck his hooves against his oar, making the boat rock even more.
“That’s it?” He said, letting the oar slide into the water and catching it just before it went overboard. “Kid, it’s just a drink. Don’t you think you’re overreacting? It’s a shame, staying mad all night like this.”
Gina harrumphed and crossed her arms stubbornly. Cabbage leaned over her shoulder and stuck his face against hers. She turned her eyes the other way.
At the verge of tears, Winter Oat said something to the bat pony. The other children sitting near him gasped, except for Grace who did not understand a single word that was said.
“Gina,” said the bat pony after gesturing for his companion to stop rowing. “I think you should listen to what Winter Oat has to say.
“According to him a bunch of older boys took his money and made him do things to get it back. They told him to pick a fight with you. His mama is looking for those boys right now. Gina, he wants to be your friend. He thought you might calm down a bit if you went somewhere quiet, so he brought you here.
“Now he says he’ll let you light the fireworks for him, if it makes you hate him less.”
Gina looked at the colt. His ears were pressed against his head, and he was looking down at the floor of the boat. The light from the dock only lit one side of his face, and it looked genuinely sad. Gina suddenly felt terrible for hitting him so much.
“Hey,” she said softly, putting one arm over his shoulder. “Winter Oat, I’m sorry.”
He cringed and tried to get away, not understanding her words. Cabbage hopped onto his lap and nuzzled his chin.
Fortunately the bat pony could translate both ways. Winter Oat looked up with a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Then he pounced at Gina and hugged her tight.
Gina returned the gesture happily. Cabbage climbed on top of her head and looked around with his mouth open gleefully. Everyone onboard laughed, while on the boardwalk Gordon waved frantically for silence lest somebody would hear them and look across the water with a spyglass.
The bat ponies unpacked the paper shells and gave one to each child. One of them demonstrated how to prime the mortars while the other kept an eye on his pocket watch. As midnight approached, boxes of wax earplugs were passed around. Putting hers in, Gina could barely hear the commotion around her.
Winter Oat tapped her on the shoulder. His face was red with embarrassment. Cabbage was standing on top of his head and grooming his mane.
A bugle sounded from the dock, and a gigantic fireball rocketed into the starry sky. A cheer went up from the south.
Gina let Winter Oat go first. He dropped the shell down the tube and jumped back in exaggerated panic. It went up with a trail of lingering blue sparkles.
The bat pony called for another volley, and Gina dropped her shell down the tube. It ignited with a deafening bang that fired snot out of her nose and down her throat. She followed the progress of her short-lived star as it rose into the night sky, disappeared, and emerged again with a crack and a shower of light.
She wasn’t even thinking about her knife anymore.
