The Secrets of Bitmore Theater

by Kegisak

Rating: everyone
Tags: Slice of Life, Sweetie Belle, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Silver Spoon
Length: 74182

Sweetie Belle and Silver Spoon team up to stop a ghost from ruining a fashion show, and in the process learn they like each other more than they'd have ever thought.

Sweetie Belle would have been perfectly happy to spend her long weekend in a theater. She would have been just as happy to ignore the fact that she would be stuck with Silver Spoon the whole time as well. When a vengeful spirit declares war on the fashion show being hosted at the theater, however, Sweetie and Silver find an unlikely alliance forming—as well as an unlikely affection.

Can the two fillies work out their differences and defeat The Phantom of the Bitmore? And how will Sweetie Belle react to the terrible secret of the Phantom?

Cover art provided with permission by MustLoveFrogs. Additional thanks to Clever Pun, Meta Four and Absolution for editing.

Published 2015-05-27 18:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-01-08 00:04:50 UTC

Chapter 1: Why Have You Brought Me Here?

Why Have You Brought Me Here?

The silence in the carriage was broken by a loud huff and the muffled squeak of a filly rolling over.

Rarity peered up from her sketching and sighed, rolling her eyes. “Honestly, Sweetie Belle,” she said, closing her sketchpad, “that's enough. You're far too old for sulking.”

“I am not,” Sweetie retorted. She continued to stare defiantly away from her sister and out the window. “Teenagers are all about sulking.”

Rarity shifted her jaw and gave a small nod. “Granted,” she said. “But I would consider that much more relevant if you actually were a teenager.”

Sweetie Belle sat up. “I am a teenager!” she said. She paused, then turned away again. “I have my cutie mark now. That makes me a teenager.”

“A creative definition,” Rarity said. “But if one is judging by actual age you are merely almost a teenager. So you still have another year before it is appropriate for you to begin sulking again.”

Sweetie set her shoulders and opened her mouth… then slumped against the seat, apparently unable to find a good comeback. Instead she rolled over and stared out the window of the carriage again.

The dull, stone buildings of downtown Manehattan trundled by. The taxi had been slowed to a crawl by the traffic and the not inconsiderable weight of Rarity's luggage. It gave Sweetie plenty of time to take in every last detail. Not that there was much to take in from the back of a carriage. Nothing but buildings too tall to see the top of, all cut out of the same boring, off-white stone. At the very least it was enough to mope over. Eventually they turned down a new, wider street and began to pick up speed as Rarity spoke again.

“Anyways, I don't see why you're upset in the first place,” she said. “We'll be spending three days in a theater! One of Manehattan's most historic theaters at that. I would have thought you'd be more excited than me.”

“I would be if we were actually there for theater,” Sweetie said with a snort. “Instead of for a du— for a fashion show. Whose idea was it to host a fashion show in Bitmore theater?”

Rarity shrugged. “The new owners', I suppose. It's a good venue for a fashion show, if nothing else. Lots of room for the catwalk, lots of room in the back to get ready… whatever the reason, they're taking advantage of it. There will be nearly a dozen up-and-coming designers there.”

“Bet there won't be dozens of bored little sisters though,” Sweetie grumbled. Rarity sighed and leaned in, lifting Sweetie's chin up.

“Come now, Sweetie,” she said. “It won't be so bad. There will be plenty for you to do even if there isn't anything showing there. There might be some actors taking an early view, or some rooms backstage you can see being set up. And if not, I can always use a pretty little model for some emergency touch-ups.”

Sweetie sighed. “I guess so,” she said. “I was just looking forward to spending the long weekend with Applebloom and Scootaloo. We were going to help Scootaloo with a new stunt. Applebloom thinks she can find a recipe to grow a ramp right out of the ground.”

“Oh,” Rarity said slowly, sitting back. She grimaced. “Does Applejack know about — well, never mind. There will be plenty of time to spend with your friends. This is an opportunity for new experiences! I'm sure everything will look better once we're there.”

“Maybe,” Sweetie said, looking out the window again. In spite of her best efforts to keep her funk, Rarity had managed to cheer her up a bit. Not that she had ever been able to keep a funk for that long anyways, even with her sister. It wasn't Rarity's fault it was their parents' honeymoon this weekend, and they'd taken another vacation. It also wasn't her fault that she'd been invited to this fashion show, and needed to take Sweetie with her. Well… not really, anyways. Maybe it was a little bit her fault.

The carriage lurched to a stop, however, before Sweetie was able to follow through on that thought. Sweetie blinked and peered out the carriage window.

“Oh,” Rarity said, peering out after her. “It looks like we're here!” She reached past Sweetie and slipped out the door, with Sweetie following after.

Bitmore theater was just like Sweetie Belle had seen in pictures… except older. The already white brick had been bleached by years of sunlight, taking on a sickly yellow tinge. The sign on front had lost a good portion of its lights to weather and overzealous souvenir-seekers, and even the tall sign that stretched up the side of the building had been stripped down to the steel frame. A few scraps of plastic and canvas hanging limply off of it were all that remained. The old theater had been spared the indignity of having garbage pile along the sides, if only by virtue of the relatively good neighborhood, but it was all it would have taken to complete the image. It was a bit sad, really.

Still, as Sweetie and Rarity approached the building, Sweetie saw that it wasn't all bad. Along the sides scaffolding had been erected, and a few ponies trotted along it with buckets of white paint, obviously meant to restore the theater to its former luster. If they were working on the sides, tucked away in tight alleys nopony visiting the theater was likely to see, it meant they must be dedicated. Whoever had bought the theater to restore it, it was clear they cared.

Whatever vestiges of Sweetie Belle's funk had remained, they were long gone now. A wide, beaming smile spread across her face as she looked up at that piece of history. If anything, she was more excited by the state of decay. It painted the theater with a romantic sort of luster. It made it look like the kind of place where somepony might fall in love, or achieve their dreams. It looked as though it had been pulled right out of the plays it had hosted years ago.

“Well it looks like somepony is feeling better,” Rarity said from behind her. Rarity was currently directing the carriage driver, as well as two other stallions who had come out when they arrived, to take in her luggage.

“Well… maybe a little,” Sweetie admitted. She shrugged and shuffled her hooves in an attempt to appear ambivalent, but her smile hardly faded, much less disappeared. “I can't help it! It's so cool!”

Rarity smiled, but the smile faded a bit as she turned to the theater. “It certainly has… character,” she said.

“Don't worry,” A mare's voice came from the direction of the theater. “It will have just as much character when we're finished the restoration. It will just be prettier.”

Both Sweetie Belle and Rarity turned to the source of the voice. It was a middle-aged earth pony mare with an eggshell coat. Though she was of average height, average frame, and perhaps even average of face, there was a sort of gentle, pervasive prettiness about her. Her steel-blue mane was tied up in a curled bun. Not the bun of somepony who wanted to keep their mane out of their face, as Sweetie Belle had seen Rarity wear many times before. Rather, it was the sort of bun somepony wore if they wanted to keep their mane from getting caught in something. Not the bun of somepony who was working, but of somepony who had been visiting a workplace.

At her side was a tall unicorn. Standing in contrast to the mare, his face was anything but average, with hard, sharp cheekbones that looked like facets of cut stone under his slate-coloured coat. He wore a fine silken shirt, his own sign that he was just visiting. If one could look past the hardness of his face, he seemed almost friendly, but he stayed silent while the mare spoke.

“The restorations efforts are going very well, actually, but we're keeping most of it out of view until the opening night. We want it to be a surprise for everypony when we re-open. You must be Miss Rarity. It's wonderful to finally meet you.”

“Yes, that's right,” Rarity said. She stepped forward and held out her hoof. “Are you Miss Starling?”

“The very same,” Starling said, shaking Rarity's hoof. “And this is my husband, Silver Sunlight.”

Sunlight held out his hoof as well, and Rarity shook it gratefully. “It's a pleasure to meet you both,” she said. “Thank you so much for inviting me to take part in this! It's an enormous honour.”

“Oh, not at all,” Starling said with a chuckle. “If anything we're the ones who should be honoured. After designing for the likes of Hoity Toity, Sapphire Shores and not one, but two Princesses, I'm sure this must seem terribly small-time. But we're always more than happy to support businesses from back home in Ponyville.”

“It's hardly smalltime to be there for the grand reopening of a historic theater,” Rarity said. “And besides, it's always an honour to be invited to an event. I would be remiss to think that my little shop was ever too big to accept an invitation.”

Starling smiled and patted Rarity's hoof. “That's just what I like to hear from my entrepreneurs,” she said. “And speaking of hearing,” she added, turning to Sweetie Belle, “I'm sorry dear, I hope we haven't been ignoring you all this time. You must be the guest Miss Rarity mentioned! Are you her assistant? I don't believe I caught your name?”

“Oh, I'm Sweetie Belle,” Sweetie answered. She felt vaguely spoken-down to, but she tried to give a polite smile anyways. “I'm not Rarity's assistant, just her sister.”

Rarity gingerly placed a hoof on Sweetie Belle’s shoulder. “Our parents were out of town this weekend,” she explained, “and everypony else who could look after her was busy, so I had to bring her along. I hope it's not too much of an imposition?”

“Oh, not at all,” Starling said. She waved a hoof. “In fact it may actually be for the best! We brought our own daughter along, but she's not terribly interested in theater, I'm afraid. At least now she'll have somepony her own age to play with!” She smiled wider and leaned down to Sweetie Belle's level. “Personally,” she said in a conspiratory stage whisper, “I don't think she knows what she's missing. You know which theater this is, don't you? It's the one in Moppets Take Manehattan!”

Sweetie Belle beamed wider. “Yeah!” She said, her enthusiasm barely slowed by the embarrassing crack in her voice, “And it was where Mane first premiered! I love that show!”

Starling paused. She stood stock still for a moment, except for a slow blink. “Ah,” she said, looking between Sweetie Belle and Rarity. “Really, now?”

“We went to see it with our Mother,” Rarity answered, her smile taking on an almost audible tightness. “For Mother's Day. She said it sounded ‘nostalgic’. A fact I have been trying to forget ever since.”

Starling grimaced a bit, but laughed in spite of it. “Oh dear,” she said. “I can see how knowing that might be… upsetting. I'll do my best not to remind you. Still!” She turned back to Sweetie as she straightened up. “I'm glad to hear our young guest is so knowledgeable of theater history. I take it you're more interested than I first thought?”

“Uh-huh!” Sweetie replied with a nod. “I love theater, especially musicals! I'm actually…” she smiled a bit bashfully. “I really like singing along with my records, and… well…”

“Ahah, an aspiring actress?” Starling asked. Sweetie Belle flushed and nodded mutely, bringing another chuckle out of Starling. “Well then, I have an idea,” she continued, turning slightly. “Why don't we all head inside? I'm sure Miss Rarity would like to get everything set up before the show, and I have to meet with a stallion from the Manehattan Museum of Arts, but I’m sure my daughter would be happy to give you a tour of the theater!”

Sweetie's eyes bulged, and her heart leapt. “Really?” she asked, not even noticing her cracking voice this time. Any foul mood from before had been completely forgotten now. “I thought you said she didn’t like the theater?”

“Absolutely,” Starling said with a wink. “She may not care for theater, but she’s still explored every inch of it. She probably knows it better than anypony by now. I'm sure you'll be seeing the backstage some day anyways, so why not give you a head start now, hmm? As long as your big sister is alright with it, of course?”

Sweetie's head snapped to Rarity, giving her a set of wide, watering puppy-dog eyes before the mare had the chance to respond.

“Oh, goodness, there's no need for that,” Rarity said, averting her eyes. “Honestly Sweetie if we could bottle that look… I'm more than happy to let your daughter show her around, Miss Starling. I'm afraid I won't be very good company for her for some time anyways. Oh, I have just so much to do. Clothing to set up, final alterations to make… I need to fit on the models to make sure everything is right…” Rarity was already beginning to look a bit frazzled as they entered the lobby.

To the right stood the ticketing booths, an entire wall of windows separated by thick wooden columns. A studious stallion was painting the columns a brilliant, pristine white that stood out against the crimson velvet of the carpeting. The reason for repainting was immediately obvious; though the carvings in the wood had not been harmed, thick smears of black soot and char had been burned into them. Sweetie payed no heed to the blackened pillars, however. She payed no heed to anything, except for the small gray filly who was sitting in the lobby. Sweetie Belle’s mouth fell open, and her heart dropped along with it. The filly gawked back at Sweetie, barely reacting as Starling spoke up.

“Oh, Silver Spoon!” Starling said. She trotted up to Silver Spoon and placed a hoof on her shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Sweetheart.” She turned back to Sweetie Belle and said, “Sweetie Belle, Miss Rarity, this is my youngest daughter, Silver Spoon. Silver, this is Sweetie Belle. She's one of our designers’ younger sister, joining us for this weekend.”

“Uh,” Silver said. Her voice was dull, and she was still staring straight at Sweetie Belle with an expression somewhere between shock and disgust. “Yeah. We've met.”

“Hmm? Have you?” Starling asked. She looked back and forth between Sweetie Belle and Silver Spoon for a moment. “Oh — oh! Oh, of course!” Starling patted her forehead. “Honestly, some day I'll forget my own cutie mark — you two go to school together, don't you?”

“Uh-huh,” Sweetie said, nodding slowly. What was Silver Spoon, of all ponies, doing here? Oh sure, it could have been worse — without Diamond Tiara to point out a victim Silver Spoon was really a nuisance at worst, but still! Sweetie had just been starting to get excited for her weekend, and now she was going to have to deal with Silver Spoon hovering around the whole time. Since they were the same age all the grownups were probably going to expect them to spend all their time together, too. Sweetie groaned internally at the mere thought of it. She was probably gonna have to spend the whole time making sure Silver didn't get her into trouble. She was the owner's daughter after all, so of course she'd never be at fault.

How could Silver Spoon be Miss Starling's daughter, anyways? Miss Starling seemed so nice! She was smart, and pretty, and she understood what Sweetie would be interested in, and Silver Spoon was… well, she was Silver Spoon. She'd never been anything but dismissive to Sweetie Belle before she'd become friends with Apple Bloom, and mean to her after, even after they all got their cutie marks.

“Well, that's wonderful!” Starling declared. “I'm glad you two already know each other. And I’m glad you’re here, Silver dear, because I have a favour to ask of you. Your father and I need to speak with the gentlestallion from the Historical Theater and Arts Society from the Manehattan Museum of the Arts very shortly. Now I’m sure Miss Rarity will want to be getting to work, which would unfortunately leave Sweetie Belle all alone. I know you were disappointed that your friend Diamond Tiara couldn’t make it here this weekend, so why don’t you give Sweetie Belle a tour of the theater?”

“Uh!” Silver said. Her eyes darted back and forth as though looking for an escape route. She was obviously no more interested in spending her weekend shackled to Sweetie Belle than Sweetie was to her, but from the resigned sag of her shoulders when she caught Starling's look, there was obviously no way out. “I… guess I could…” she mumbled.

“Oh, that's wonderful,” Starling said with another sigh. “I trust you two fillies can keep each other out of trouble.” The second toll of the death knell. Starling might as well say the name of the Cursed Play, the way this was going.

Starling seemed content to leave it at that, though. She turned to Rarity, and raised her voice a bit. “Miss Rarity?”

“… certain I packed that thread, but if not I'm sure there's a textiles nearby that could—” Rarity stopped, and looked up. In mere moments her mane had become a tangled mess, and she was chewing nervously on her hoof. “Hm?” she asked. “Oh I'm so sorry Miss Starling, I just got caught up in planning, and…” She gave a weak, apologetic sort of shrug.

Starling chuckled. “I know, I know,” she said. “The Artistic Process. I've had the… pleasure of seeing my daughter preparing for a show; I know how creative ponies can get. I have some things I need to attend to, and Silver is happy to give Sweetie Belle the grand tour. I just wanted to let you know whenever you were ready to start working, that door will take you directly to the backstage so you can get settled.” She gestured to a small door along the left wall. “All of your things should have been brought in by now.”

“Oh,” Rarity said. Her shoulders eased out of a bunch and she breathed a sigh of relaxation. “That sounds wonderful, Miss Starling, thank you so much. And,” she gave a quick, sidelong glance to Silver Spoon, who very noticeably did not meet her gaze. “Thank you for asking your daughter to show Sweetie Belle around for a while. Please, feel free to send her back to me whenever. And Sweetie—” she turned to her sister, “—you'll be good with Silver Spoon, I trust?” There was a knowing edge to the question. Sweetie had no doubt it was as much an order as a query.

Sweetie sighed quietly. “Yes, Rarity,” she said eventually, giving a slow nod. “I'll be good.”

“Oh, Pish,” Starling said with a flippant wave of her hoof. “They’ll only be looking around, there’s only so much trouble two fillies can get up to — provided Silver remembers where they’re allowed to go,” she added, shooting Silver a glance. “But I’ve kept the poor gentlestallion from the museum waiting long enough, I’m afraid.” She wrapped Silver in a hug and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Moooom,” Silver groaned in a limp, half-hearted whine as she leaned away from her mother's affections.

“I know, I know, don't embarrass you in front of your friends,” Starling said with a chuckle. “Thank you both for keeping each other company. I'll see you soon, Sweetheart!”

This seemed to satisfy Rarity, who nodded. “Well, alright,” she said, turning to the door. “Thank you again, Miss Starling. Goodbye, Sweetie. I’ll see you later on this evening.”

“Bye, Rarity,” Sweetie replied. They waved to each other for a moment before Rarity and Starling disappeared through their respective doors to leave Sweetie Belle alone with Silver Spoon.

The two of fillies sat in silence for a moment, judging how fast Starling and Rarity would be out of audible distance. In the end, it was Sweetie who spoke first. Or at least, who grunted first.

“Urgh,” she said, sagging down.

“At least we can agree on one thing,” Silver replied with a snort.

“Is she really gonna make us stay together all weekend?” Sweetie asked, grimacing at the thought.

Silver sighed and rolled her eyes. “Probably,” she said. “At the very least I'm gonna have to pretend to like you the whole time. Mom thinks I need to be friends with everypony, for some reason.” She stuck out her tongue and pulled a face. “Gag.”

“Yeah, well,” Sweetie said. She drew back from Silver Spoon let the words hang, wracking her mind for a good comeback. Sadly nothing came to her. In fact, more than anything else all she could think of was that she really didn't want to spend her whole weekend subtly trading snipes with Silver Spoon. “Well…” she said eventually, shuffling her hooves as she mulled over her idea. “Why don't we at least put on a good show?”

Silver cocked an eyebrow at that. “… What do you mean?” She asked.

“I mean…” Sweetie said, waving her hooves vaguely. “I don't wanna spend my whole weekend fighting with you. And I definitely don't wanna get in trouble for getting caught doing it. Can't we just, like, call a truce or something? Just for the weekend. Then you can go back to being a jerk, and I can go back to... whatever it is I do that makes you and Diamond Tiara hate me so much.”

Silver Spoon shot her a confused and slightly offended glare. “I don't… whatever,” she said. “Yeah, that sounds good, I guess. I wouldn't mind getting out of here without a lecture.” She kicked some dust up off the floor, and shifted her jaw. “So what do you want to do, anyways? Diamond Tiara isn't here, my sister isn't here, there aren't even any actors practicing or anything…”

“Well, your mom wanted you to give me a tour,” Sweetie Belle pointed out. “Remember?”

Silver rolled her eyes. “Yeah,” she said, “but there’s probably nothing you want to see that isn’t dumb and boring.”

“Well, there’s the auditorium,” Sweetie said defensively. “And I think the dressing rooms would be neat…”

Silver Spoon gave a flippant wave of her hoof. “See?” she said. “Dumb and boring.” She peered over at Sweetie and, seeing her scowl, drew back and put her hooves up. “What?” she asked. “It's just a room! There are dressers, there are makeup stands, but it's just stuff. Nopony's used them yet, so it's not like there's even anything interesting to hear about. And the auditorium is basically empty.”

Sweetie huffed. “Well I think they'd be interesting,” she said with just a hint of belligerence. She might not want to fight with Silver, but that didn't mean she was just going to roll over for her. She set her shoulders and prepared herself for a game of fight-chicken.

To her surprise though, Silver Spoon simply shrugged. “Fine,” she said. “If that's what you want, I guess. I'm telling you though, it'll be boring.” She got to her hooves and turned away, gesturing for Sweetie to follow. “The auditorium is this way.”

“Oh, uh,” Sweetie said, blinking. “Y-yeah, okay.” She cantered to Silver Spoon's side and fell in step with her. “I think they seem neat, though. Haven't you ever wondered what it'd be like to be an actress? Preparing for shows and stuff?”

“Not really,” Silver Spoon said. She shook her head to center her braid, and shrugged. “My sister is a musician. I see her preparing for shows. It doesn't look very interesting. You go up, perform whatever, then leave as fast as you can so the next pony can do their thing. I'm not into it.”

That sounded an awful lot like personal experience to Sweetie, for somepony who 'wasn't into it'. “Yeah,” she said, deciding to probe a bit. “Your mom said you weren't very into theater.” She paused, and added, “Your parents own a theater now! How can you not like it?”

“I dunno,” Silver Spoon said as she drew away and hunched up her shoulders defensively. “All the ponies talk weird, and it's hard to see anything that's going on. I like some musicals, but usually the music is weird too.”

“Maybe you just haven't seen the right plays?” Sweetie suggested.

“I've seen dozens,” Silver Spoon replied. She rolled her head in disgust at the thought of it. “This isn't the first Mom and Daddy have been interested in theater, you know. My second cousin Backstage is a playwright; I've been going to plays and musicals since I was like… four. Probably longer. I don't know what's supposed to be the right ones.” She shook her head. “Anyways,” she said, “we're here. Welcome to the auditorium.” She stopped in front of a large pair of gilded double-doors, pushed the door open and stood aside. Sweetie Belle stepped inside, and gasped in awe — and in shock.

The auditorium had been gutted. Almost all of the theater seats had been ripped up, leaving behind only the snarled, charred steel mountings, sticking up in jagged spikes. Only the first few rows had new seats, thick plush in the same shade of crimson as the lobby carpet.

Above them, the balcony was a half-painted, half burned canopy. A team of pegasi hovered along the bottom with paint rollers in tow. As they trotted out further into the auditorium Sweetie looked back at the balcony, and saw that the seats there had been torn up as well. All of the walls were barren, save for the large, decorative pillars that stretched up in the corners of the room. As Sweetie looked closer, however, she noticed a few stray wires hanging between the pillars, wires she imagined had once held up curtains or banners.

“Wow...” Sweetie said. “What happened in here?”

“There was a fire,” Silver Spoon told her. “A long time ago… twenty years, I think? Mom says it didn’t do too much real damage, and almost nopony was hurt, but the whole place was wrecked. After that I guess ponies just… left it.” She looked around for a moment, and shrugged. “Mom says we’re the first ponies to own it since. She’s been cleaning it up for months now.”

Sweetie looked back as Silver Spoon lead her up onto the stage and down a side alley. The auditorium looked almost skeletal from a distance. What could have caused a fire that extensive? A prop malfunction? An accident?

“The dressing rooms are close to the stage,” Silver said, cutting through her thoughts. “You’ve probably been in one before. They’re pretty much all the same…”

“I haven’t, actually,” Sweetie said.

Silver paused, and turned back to stare at her. “... Really?” she asked. “You’ve been in stuff before, haven’t you?”

Sweetie leaned back. “Well… yeah,” she said. “But like, small stuff. Nothing that needed dressing rooms. We just got dressed backstage.”

Silver tilted her head slightly. “Huh,” she said slowly. She smirked a bit, and gestured to a sturdy-looking door. “Well… this is the star’s dressing room.” She pushed the door open, and stood aside.

Sweetie Belle frowned for a moment and peered at Silver. What was that smile supposed to mean? In her excitement to explore, however, it was easy to put Silver out of her mind and gleefully trot through the door. The first thing she noticed was that it was dark. Very dark. Too dark to see, in fact. She stopped and fumbled along the inside wall for a moment. She probed for a light switch, and after a few moments of blind groping she felt something brush against her hoof.

The room did not light up when Sweetie flipped the switch as she had expected, but it didn't stay completely dark either. On the far inside wall an arch of light-bulbs flickered to life. The sudden light stung Sweetie Belle’s eyes for a moment. Her eyes adjusted soon enough, though, and she saw that the source of the light was a large vanity desk, the bulbs arching across the large mirror. Happily, the mirror provided a little extra illumination, throwing at least a weak light across the far wall.

Sweetie took a few ginger steps inside and looked around on the wall. There didn't seem to be any other switches. “I… guess the electricity isn't really working yet?” she asked.

“Huh?” Silver Spoon asked, peering inside. “Oh… eh, I guess not.” She shrugged. “I think the electricians were supposed to be coming in to do their last pass tonight or tomorrow.” She looked up and around on the ceiling. “Or maybe nopony remembered to put in a light-bulb yet.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie said slowly, looking around. The darkened room dampened her glee and replaced it with a strange sense of foreboding. The shadows in the corners made it difficult to tell just how large the room was. It gave the place a subtle sense of claustrophobia and unease. What could be lurking in those who-knew-how-deep shadows? Nothing of course, she told herself. She knew it was a silly thing to be afraid of. Still, just because you knew something didn't mean you felt it. She breathed deep and pushed the thoughts out of her mind, walking further into the room.

Silver had been right about one thing at least, the room was barren. Sweetie Belle chanced a glance over her shoulder at the other filly, who was lounging against the doorframe. Sweetie wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of being right about the room being boring, so she headed toward the desk. “This is interesting,” she said. “I don't think I've ever actually seen one of these up close before.” She clambered into the chair in front of the desk. It was surprisingly comfortable, with a plush cushion affixed to the seat and velvet over the arms. She settled into the chair, looking all around.

“Is it?” Silver Spoon asked from the doorway. “It's just a desk. Doesn't your sister have one of them? She wears makeup, doesn't she?”

“Well, sure,” Sweetie said. She spotted a mask on the desk. It had been difficult to see in the gloom and the glare of the lights, but now that her eyes had adjusted she realized it had been sitting just off-center on the desk, as though somepony had been wearing it and set it down. “But she just uses compacts or her bathroom mirror. Her room is too full for a big desk like this just for makeup.”

The mask was smooth and cool under her hooves, like porcelain. It felt less fragile, though. A kind of plastic, perhaps? It looked like a domino mask, but the left side stretched down far enough to cover half a smaller pony’s cheek. There was even a small groove for the wearer's lips.

“Huh,” Silver Spoon said simply. “Well… I dunno, it's a desk. Actors and actresses get ready there. This one is new, so like… nothing really interesting has happened there yet.”

“Somepony's used it, though,” Sweetie said, turning around in the chair. “Or it looks like it, anyways. Unless somepony just left a prop in here by accident?” She held up the mask for Silver Spoon to see.

Silver Spoon squinted for a moment, and took a step forward to see better in the gloom. She grinned suddenly, and laughed.

“Huh?” Sweetie asked, puzzled. She looked at the mask. “What is it?” she asked.

“Somepony is playing a prank,” Silver Spoon explained. “Or at least, trying to. They're leaving that for the models to find, to scare them.”

“Why would some mask scare a model?” Sweetie asked. “Is it a superstition or something? Are they gonna freak out because somepony is calling them ugly?” A few of the models she had met did seem temperamental enough… but only one out of a few dozen. Surely nopony here was that silly?

“You mean you don't know?” Silver Spoon asked, taking another step forward.

“Know what?” Sweetie asked, leaning away.

“About the pony who died in the fire!” Silver Spoon said. The lights of the desk cast an eerie pallor on her face, gleaming menacingly off of her glasses. She had given her voice an eery, hollow sound, a tone that set Sweetie Belle on edge.

Sweetie swallowed hard. “D-died?” she asked. “But you said nopony was hurt—”

“Almost nopony,” Silver Spoon corrected her. “But there was one pony who died in the blaze… and some ponies say that he was the one who set it off.

“Of course nopony knows exactly what caused it,” Silver Spoon continued, “but a lot of ponies said they saw a mysterious cloaked figure stalking around in the days before the fire. Nopony knows who he was — he had never been seen in the theater before. He wasn't an employee, or an actor. But the ponies who saw him heard him ranting and raving about what the theater had come to, and how he hated it. And when the fire started, one of the actors who made it out said that they saw him — standing in the middle of the stage, ranting and screaming about how things would be better. About how the theater had a future. They tried to get him to run with them, but he refused to leave. The fires got too hot, and they had to leave him behind, still ranting and raving.”

Sweetie leaned back in her chair, trembling slightly, and swallowed. Silver Spoon had crept closer and closer to her, until she was only a couple of feet away. Her glasses no longer reflected the light of the vanity desk, but in their place the shadows made her eyes into two sunken black pits.

“But,” Silver Spoon continued, “When the fire was over, they never found his body — not even bones. Some ponies think he burned right to ash, and there was no body left to find. Some ponies think that he escaped, never to be seen again. But some ponies, some ponies say that he never left at all. That he's been here all this time, lurking in the tunnels underneath the theater, in the back stages that nopony goes to anymore, or sneaking around the rafters and catwalks above. They say he didn't die — or maybe he did! But that he's still here, a creeping phantom waiting for the theater to be restored to the glory age of musicals and opera… I wonder what he'd think of hosting a fashion show here, huh?”

“I—I… I don't… know…” Sweetie stammered. Silver Spoon was inches away from her now, though Sweetie had leaned as far back into the chair as she could manage, pressing herself into the padded back.

“I don't know either,” Silver Spoon said, a slow smirk creeping across her face. “But I've heard some of the workers say that they've seen nooses hanging from the rafters — empty, like they're waiting for somepony to snatch!” She jumped forward, and Sweetie shrieked. She fell out of the chair to dodge the lunge and toppled to the floor with a thump and a grunt.

Silver Spoon burst out laughing, barely bothering to try and stifle it with a hoof.

“Cut it out, Silver!” Sweetie shouted. She tried her best not to let the fear and tension in her voice show. “That isn't funny!”

“Geez, it's just a story!” Silver Spoon said, still laughing. She managed to restrain herself a little, though not much. “It's just some dumb rumor. They show up in every theater in Equestria… heck, some ponies will even tell you a play is haunted, and they won't let you say MacB—”

“Don't say it!” Sweetie cut her off.

Silver Spoon paused, blinking dumbly at Sweetie for a few moments. “Oh my gosh,” she said. She started to laugh again. “You actually believe in that?”

Sweetie's face grew hot, and she felt her cheeks flushing. “That's not — I mean — I don't — I know it's just a superstition!” She bunched up her shoulders and turned away. “That doesn't mean you should do it! It scares a lot of ponies. And it's tradition. And anyways, what if it is true?”

Silver Spoon rolled her eyes, and coughed. She struggled a bit more than Sweetie thought was necessary, but she eventually managed to suppress her laughter. “Okay, fine,” she said. “I won't say the name of that play. Dumb anyways. Just a bunch of weird Passland ponies stabbing each other. There are way cooler stories about that.” she shrugged. “But the Phantom is definitely just a dumb rumor, and I can prove it.”

Sweetie Belle looked back at her slowly, looking her up and down. Surprisingly, Silver Spoon wasn't wearing her usual smug expression. Sweetie knew her too well to think she was being completely genuine, but it didn't seem like she was trying to get another laugh in at Sweetie Belle. “… How?” she asked.

“The Phantom is supposed to live in the deepest, darkest back stages of the theater, right?” Silver Spoon said. “Well, I've explored every inch of this theater since Mom and Daddy bought it a few months ago, and I haven't seen a single sign of anypony living in here. I'm supposed to be giving you a tour, right?”

“Rrright,” Sweetie said slowly. She was beginning to see where Silver was going with this, and she didn't necessarily like it. She rubbed her forelegs.

“So, I'll take you to the back stages! We can see that there's no sign of the Phantom, and you'll know for sure that it's just a rumor, right?” She paused, and added, “Unless you're too scared.”

Sweetie Belle frowned. “Silver,” she groaned, “You said we wouldn't fight!”

“I'm not fighting!” Silver said, putting on an innocent face. “I'm just saying, if you don't want to, then we don't have to! I understand if it's too much for you. It's spooky back there. Even I get scared sometimes.”

It was obvious what she was doing, Sweetie thought. Silver Spoon was obviously trying to goad her into it. She was all but openly daring Sweetie. It was obvious, and dumb, and there was no way that Sweetie should fall for it.

“Fine,” Sweetie Belle said, folding her forelegs. “I'll do it. I'm not scared. The Phantom isn't real, right?”

“Right,” Silver Spoon said. She turned away and pushed open the door, smiling over her shoulder. “So let's go prove it! I'll show you the way.”

Sweetie set the mask down on the desk. She paused, and picked it up again before sliding down out of the chair. “Okay,” she said, trotting up to the door.

Silver Spoon put a hoof across her chest before she could leave.

“Huh?” Sweetie Belle asked, staring down at the hoof. It was surprisingly rough. Soft, but still rough, like it was used to being battered or used heavily.

Silver Spoon poked her head out into the hall, looking around carefully. “Mom doesn't like it when I go into the back rooms,” she said. “If she finds out we're heading there, then she'll send somepony to come get me. One of the workers, or worse, the Butler. So we have to be careful to make sure nopony sees us heading back there.” She peered back at Sweetie. “You can be good at sneaking, right?” she asked.

“Oh!” Sweetie said. “I — yeah, I can be sneaky.” She hunkered down. That all made sense. Still, it made her worried… “Will we get in trouble for this?”

Silver Spoon shook her head. “No — or at least you won't. My Mom will probably be 'disappointed' in me, but she won't be too mad as long as we don't get hurt, and we won't. Plus, I'll only get in trouble if we get caught — and we won't.” She peered at Sweetie over her shoulder again. “Right?”

“R-right,” Sweetie agreed with a nod. Her heart was already thudding in her chest from the nerves.

The pair ducked out of the dressing room, letting the door swing shut behind them. Silver Spoon strode quickly on stock-straight legs, so quickly she was practically gliding across the carpeted floor. It was only Sweetie who made a sound, the light swif swif swif of her hooves dragging across the carpet mingling subtly with the murmurs from where the designers were only a few rooms away. Her face — her whole front, really — was hot, so hot that the mask clutched against her chest felt like ice. Her heart thudded so loud she could swear that everypony around must have been able to hear it, must know that she was up to something, but they only saw one or two ponies in their journey, and none of those ponies so much as looked at Sweetie Belle. So far as they were concerned, Sweetie and Silver were just a part of the scenery.

Silver Spoon, for her part, did her best to facilitate that view. Her stride was confident and powerful, moving for all the world like she belonged exactly where she was. Of course, she probably did. If she had explored as much as she and her mother claimed it could only be because, as the owner's daughter, she had had the run of this place. No wonder she knew so much about it, Sweetie thought.

“Here,” Silver Spoon said as she pulled up to an unmarked door. She looked back and forth, then leaned casually against the wall a few feet away from the door. Sweetie followed her view and noticed a pair of stallions at the end of the hall. Silver waved her hoof in a hurried signal that Sweetie didn’t understand, then paused and tutted to herself.

“Don’t attract their attention,” Silver hissed under her breath. “Act like you’re supposed to be here!”

Unable to think of anything, Sweetie simply sat in the middle of the hall, holding the mask tight against her chest. She peered at the door. “This is—” she began, but stopped herself and started again in a whisper. “This is it?” she asked. “We aren't very far away from the dressing rooms…”

“Most of the theater is taken up by these kinds of places,” Silver explained, gesturing to the door. “It's for prop storage and stuff. They all connect to each other, and the biggest entrance is right behind the main backstage. This one just happened to be closest to us.” She peered subtly back down the hall again. The workers were still there. She rolled her eyes, and sighed. “Though we might have to find something else if those guys don't move soon… give it another minute. We're just taking a rest here.”

Sweetie tilted her head. She was about to point out that she felt fine, when it clicked with her. “You mean, that's what the workers will think?”

“Probably, anyways,” Silver said. She shifted her position along the wall and hummed, looking at Sweetie and away. Then she blinked, and looked back at Sweetie. “You brought the mask?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sweetie said, flushing faintly. “I, uh… well, I figured if somepony was trying to scare one of the models, I didn't want them to actually get scared. And I figured it was probably one of the props or something, so… I thought I'd take it and put it back while we were in the prop rooms.

“Huh,” Silver Spoon said, blinking. A faint smile played at the corners of her lips. She looked quickly away from Sweetie, covering her lips. “Hey!” She said. “The workers are gone.”

Sweetie Belle looked in the direction where the stallions had been and saw that Silver Spoon was right. She turned back, only to see that Silver Spoon had already slipped through the door and was holding it open, waving hurriedly for Sweetie to follow her.

“Hurry!” Silver Spoon hissed. “Before somepony else comes along!”

Sweetie Belle scrambled to her feet. She bolted for the door and ducked under Silver Spoon's outstretched foreleg. She was so frightened of being caught that it was only after she had gotten inside she realized just how cluttered the prop room was. She crashed headlong into a pile of surprisingly sturdy boxes and bounced off, staggering backwards from the impact. Her head was reeling, but she was vaguely aware of Silver’s hooves on her back keeping her from sliding back out the door. Silver’s bracing, however, only managed to redirect Sweetie. Her long tumble finally came to an end as she collided over another, considerably shorter, box. She stumbled for just a moment, then fell to crash flat on her face.

“Jeeze!” Silver Spoon said, barely stopping to check the door was closed before running to Sweetie's side. “Are you okay? That was a heck of a trip!”

“Oooooooooow,” Sweetie moaned miserably, clutching at her nose. It felt like it had just been punched. It had only happened to her once, and she had hoped to never feel it again. Her eyes stung with the first droplets of tears, and she felt a lump forming in her throat. “Ow ow owwwwww… my nose…”

“Hey,” Silver Spoon said, circling around the boxes. “Lemme see.” She bent down in front of Sweetie Belle, gently pulling Sweetie's hooves away from her face.

“Ouch!” Sweetie groaned, pulling away. Silver Spoon tutted and leaned in closer.

“I know it hurts, you already said that,” she said. “Let me have a look at it. Are you alright?”

Sweetie's eyes were too blurry to see properly in the dim light of the backstage, but she felt Silver’s hooves gently cup her face. They tilted her left, then right.

“Mm…” Silver Spoon said after a moment. “It doesn't look bad. Your nose isn't even bleeding, just a bit swollen.

“Feels like it's bleeding…” Sweetie said, sniffling. She blinked away the tears and gingerly rubbed a hoof across her nose. Sure enough, her hoof was clean of blood when she brought it back.

“It's just snot,” Silver Spoon told her. “Which is gross, by the way.” She pulled a face. “I don't know how you fit so much up there…”

In spite of the pain, Sweetie giggled a bit. She pulled herself to her hooves and slid off of the box. She wiped her nose again. “…Thanks,” she said. “That was really nice of you.”

Silver blinked. Sweetie had expected her to… well, she wasn't quite sure what she had expected Silver to do, but it certainly wasn't to look shocked. “Uh,” Silver Spoon said, turning away suddenly. “Yeah, well… whatever. If you'd started crying somepony might have heard and then I'd definitely have gotten in trouble. And anyways, I'd just never seen somepony fail that hard before, and wanted to see it better, that’s all.” She huffed. “Are you ready to start looking around?”

Sweetie Belle frowned. Any appreciation she might have had for Silver had drained away. She had thought, just for a moment, that Silver Spoon had actually been… nice, somehow. Really nice, actually. Sweetie Belle folder her forelegs and sniffled. “Yeah,” she said. “Fine. Let's go prove this dumb Phantom doesn't exist.”

Silver Spoon chewed her lip for a moment, then sighed and stood up. “Yeah,” she said. “Good idea.”

Sweetie followed after her, looking around as they walked. A thick miasma of dust and dimness hung over the room that forced her to strain her eyes. A row of frosted glass windows along the back wall let in weak, murky blue light that set the dust in the air glinting gold. It gave the place an ethereal, otherworldly sort of atmosphere that made Sweetie Belle step lightly.

Dozens of boxes lay scattered around the room, tops open and props hanging out. Some of the props still looked good in spite of their age, but many more showed the full effects of the fire, burned or distorted, blackened husks of whatever indiscernible thing they had once been. In the blue-gold half-light it was eerie to see them hanging there, limp and lifeless. The props that were simple furniture or tools were not too bad, but every so often a costume had been hung in such a way as to suggest a pony lurking in a corner, or a disembodied face. So many were charred or half-melted that if Sweetie had not been assured only one pony died, she would have wondered if these were the ghosts of dead actors still haunting the theater. She shivered, rubbing her forelegs.

“Y-you keep the burned props?” Sweetie Belle asked, if only to break the silence. “Why?”

“I'm not sure,” Silver Spoon replied. “I think Mom and Daddy were planning on getting rid of them, but… they didn't. I guess maybe they kept them for that museum pony to look at?”

“I can't see why he'd want any of this,” Sweetie Belle said, looking sidelong at a mask hanging from a hook. Already a garish fool's smile, the fire had contorted the mask into a smirking grimace. She shuddered and moved away from it. “I guess I can see why a Phantom might like it in here, though… or why somepony might think they've seen one. Did you really go exploring this whole place on your own?”

“Yeah…” Silver Spoon said. It was barely noticeable, but Sweetie Belle could have sworn she'd heard a hint of nervousness in Silver Spoon's voice as well. “Or, well… most of it, anyways. I, uh… never went that far into the deeper rooms.

Sweetie Belle blinked and looked slowly at Silver Spoon. “… Deeper rooms?” she asked. That didn't sound good.

Silver Spoon nodded just as slowly. “Yeah,” she said. “It's where like, all the plumbing and stuff comes up so ponies can work on them if they ever need to be fixed. I… never went into them.” She shuffled her hooves a bit bashfully. “Never figured there'd be anything interesting, and, well…”

“They were deep, and dark, and creepy?” Sweetie asked.

Silver Spoon bobbed her head back and forth, obviously reluctant to say it out loud. “…Okay, yeah,” she finally admitted. “It's pretty freaky back there. It's dark, and cold, and there's this weird… clanging.”

The fillies stopped, and a heavy silence fell over them. Neither said a word; they barely breathed. It was Sweetie who broke it finally. “That…” she said softly, “sounds like exactly the kind of place I'd live, if I were a Phantom.”

“Yeah…” Silver said. “Me too…”

Silver Spoon stared at a tall, wide doorway on the far wall. Assuming it to be the door to the deeper rooms, Sweetie followed her gaze and stopped as well. She strained her eyes even more to see beyond the threshold, but try as she might, the room just beyond the door was black as pitch. It was the kind of darkness that suggests untold depths. It looked like a hole in the side of the world. Neither of them spoke for a long time.

“Well,” Silver said, not sounding nearly as confident as Sweetie imagined she would have liked, “I guess if we're gonna prove this guy doesn't exist, that means a place that'd be his home is exactly where we need to look for him…” She took a slow, shaky step forward, then looked back at Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie took a step after her, then faltered. In response, Silver took a half step. Sweetie stepped forward again, overtaking Silver Spoon. So it went, with the two fillies creeping and inching their way forward, goading the other with every step until they finally reached the door. It felt like it had taken ages, and that it would take ages more to cross through.

The dark had not gotten any less deep this close to the door. Sweetie Belle gulped, and out of the corner of her eyes she could see Silver Spoon trembling faintly.

“Uh, you know,” Silver said, smiling weakly, “If it's too scary for you, I won't think any less of you…”

Sweetie frowned. “Yeah…” she said slowly. “Same to you…”

Well, that settled it. She could see the tiny flex and set of Silver Spoon's shoulders, see her trembling slow. “I'm fine,” Silver Spoon said.

“Me too,” Sweetie replied. They stared eye to eye for a moment, then charged into the darkness.

Even inside the darkness didn't clear up at first. The blackness clung to the walls and the fillies, sticking like tar, staining like ink. Only the faint glint of light off pipes gave a hint that they were still in the real world at all, and not some nightmarish landscape the likes of which lingers under foal's beds. They kept close to one another, near shoulder to shoulder for the fear that, if they left each others' sight, they would be lost in the darkness forever.

Eventually though, their eyes began to adjust the darkness. Somewhere, it seemed, there was some small source of light, enough to provide limited visibility. The pipes that wound across the ceiling helped a bit. Many hung low, some so low that Sweetie Belle had to duck under them, and their surfaces glistened with condensation. The off-blue and rust-orange glints that reflected off of them gave a sparse, but serviceable light.

Sweetie slowed and finally took a look around. It was still difficult to get a feel for the room in the dimness, but she felt that she had an idea. The pipe system was massive and expansive. She could see it snaking across the whole room, into the edgeless shadows where the light faded. They likely came from, and went to, everywhere in the entire building, snarling together in the center like an enormous knot. From the way the pipes curled across the old, wooden rafters along the ceiling, it looked like the mass of brass had been suspended above the floor.

Aside from the pipes, every last inch of the deep backstage was covered in a thick layer of dust. It was more like a carpet than dust at this point, coming up in clumps and chunks as Sweetie dragged her hooves across it. She dared to look down only once, and not for long, afraid she would vomit in disgust. What she did see, though, was a thick streak of dark across patches of the dust, like something sooty had been trailed along.

She breathed deep, and forced herself to look back down at the trail and follow it. It seemed to be heading for the mass of pipes. Sweetie swallowed, and tapped Silver Spoon's shoulder. “I think there's… something over there,” she said as she gestured at the pipes.

Silver Spoon nodded silently, and they began making their way towards it. As they moved closer the air grew damp, almost wet. Sweetie felt a bead of condensation roll down her back — or was it sweat? The mass of pipes didn’t look like a knot anymore. It looked like a giant heart: the heart of the Bitmore. A massive, throbbing organ of steel and brass, hung by its arteries in the darkness. A slow, reverberating clang beat out its struggling pulse, making Sweetie’s own heart skip with each sound. It seemed to glow with some dim and otherworldly light, whatever magic kept the ghastly heart beating.

It was only when they were a few feet away from the mass that Sweetie realized that she was not imagining the glow. This had been the source of the light. Something inside the twisted and snarling mass was glowing and gently flickering.

“Was there… a lamp in there?” Sweetie asked Silver Spoon.

Silver Spoon merely shook her head. “I didn't make it this deep in before,” she admitted. “This is new to me…” She chewed her lip. She took a faltering step forward, then back. “I think… I don't think anypony would want to live here. It's too spooky. I think we should go back.”

“That's exactly what the Phantom would be relying on, though,” Sweetie pointed out. “He'd want to scare everypony away from his home. We need to check it out!” She breathed deeply, summoning all her courage, and surged forward between two especially thick pipes.

“The Phantom isn't real,” Silver Spoon insisted from behind Sweetie Belle. Sweetie Belle didn't listen, though. She didn't hear. She was too shocked by what she saw.

The inside of the mass was not a home, per se, more like a nest. A massive pile of newspapers and old, half-burned cushions matted along the bottom, suspended off the floor by the pipes. Several higher tubes had been used as makeshift shelves and tables. On one, a book and scattered sheets of musical notation. On a half-dozen others the source of light was revealed: Candles almost without number, in various colours, sizes, and states of melting. Though the light they cast outside was meager, it was brilliant here, setting the entire space alight and golden-brown. On the final shelf, centered perfectly, was a mask. A mask exactly the same as the one Sweetie still held.

“S… Silver,” Sweetie stammered. “Silver, there's a m-mask here…”

“A what?” Silver asked, poking her head through. She only had to look for a moment before she, too spotted it and went dumb with shock. “That…” she said, “That has to be a joke. Somepony is playing a prank, right?”

“It's… a lot to do for a prank,” Sweetie said. “It looks like this has all been here for a while. I mean, there are lots of props around and stuff, but”

“Fooooooooools!” a voice thundered through the room. Both Sweetie and Silver jumped, resulting in a loud clang as Silver smashed her head against a low-hanging pipe.

“Silver!” Sweetie Belle said, jumping to her. “Are you okay?”

“Ow, ponyfeathers,” Silver Spoon swore, clutching at her head. “I'm fine. Just… what was that?”

“Who dares!?” the voice sounded again. “Who dares invade my home!?”

Sweetie's head whipped around in search of the source of the voice. The sound rebounded and echoed off the multitude of pipes, making it impossible to track it. “Who's there?” She called out. She didn't need to, though. She already knew fully well who it was…

“Who dares invade the lair, of the Phantom of the Bitmore!?”

It was only then that Sweetie Belle saw the source of the voice. He stood atop the highest pipe, raised up on his hind legs and wrapped in a thick black cloak. Only a tiny sliver of his face showed, a pale pink. The rest was shrouded in a mask, the exact same mask lying in his home, and that Sweetie held.

“You tiny, selfish ponies!” The Phantom jeered from his roost. “How dare you mar the glory of my precious Bitmore with your shallow ‘fashion shows’'!? Do you not know to whom this place belongs!?”

Sweetie Belle was frozen solid with fear. Her whole body shook and trembled, and she was vaguely aware of a chattering sound she assumed was her teeth. The Phantom barely seemed to notice she existed, continuing his mad rant.

“I will show you the error of your ways! I shall show you all destruction! If you do not leave this place I shall show you baptism through fire! Begone from this sacred place!”

“Sweetie Belle!” Silver Spoon screamed, grabbing Sweetie's shoulders, “We have to go! We have to get out of here!” She practically hauled Sweetie Belle to her hooves as the Phantom leapt from his perch.

He swooped through the air more gracefully than any pegasus Sweetie had ever seen, though he had no visible wings. His cloak trailed and whipped behind him like he had no body at all, like he was nothing but a ghost, every bit as black as the shadows in which he made his home. He was headed straight for them. Silver Spoon dragged Sweetie Belle to the ground just in time for the Phantom to sail through the air where their heads had been.

“Run!” Silver Spoon screamed, and it finally clicked in Sweetie Belle's brain. Her hooves sprung to life, scrambling across the dusty floorboards and carrying her so fast that Silver Spoon struggled to keep up with her.

The two fillies bolted through the deeper rooms, ducking and dodging under the Phantom as he screamed threats and epithets at them, as he cursed the fashion show and all the designers, as he promised death to all the models and anypony else who would dare to help the fashion show go forward.

They screamed in kind, yelling in terror and desperation. They were so busy screaming that they didn't realize they had left the deep rooms until they ran headlong into Starling and an older unicorn.

“Whoa, hey!” Starling cried as she toppled over. “What in Equestria!” She grabbed hold of Sweetie Belle. “Silver? Sweetie? Are you two okay? What's the matter!?”

“The Phantom!” they screamed in unison. Starling gawked for a moment.

“What on—” she said, picking herself up off the floor. “What are you two even doing back here?”

“We-we-we!” Sweetie Belle stammered, struggling to keep her breath. “We heard about the Phantom! And S… I… I wanted to see if he existed or not, so we came back here, and… we found him!”

“Oh, honestly!” Starling said, facehoofing hard. “I'm going to kill whoever's been talking about that stupid old story with impressionable young fillies around… but you!” She said sharply, turning to glare at Silver Spoon, “Should really know better, young lady! Taking Sweetie into the deeper rooms… it's dangerous back here!”

“I… w-well,” Silver Spoon faltered, looking at the ground. “Yeah, but I…”

“I asked her to,” Sweetie cut in. “But that's not important, Miss Starling! The Phantom is real! We saw him!”

“Oh, don't be silly,” Starling chided. “The Phantom is just an old rumor. And besides, it's pitch black in there! The electric is getting set up this evening. You probably just half-saw some old pipes or something a vagrant left behind and got scared… I don't blame you! It's spooky back there. Which is why it's no place for little fillies.”

“She's right, Mom,” Silver Spoon added. “It wasn't the dark — he's got this nest of candles, and—”

“Silver Spoon, that's quite enough,” Starling said sharply. “You've both had a big scare, and I won't have you working each other up.” She sighed, and turned to the older stallion, who was picking himself up off the floor. “I'm very sorry about this,” she said. “My daughter and her friend—”

“Oh, not at all, not at all,” the stallion said with a laugh. “I was young once you know, though I realize it doesn't seem like it.” He adjusted a thick pair of spectacles. “I assure you if my knees still worked right I'd be dashing about here as well. So much history!” He turned to Sweetie Belle and added, “I see our young miss here has found a piece of history herself! That looks like a prop mask for the Phantom, from Phantom of the Opera! The Bitmore put on a few good shows of that, you know.”

“Huh?” Sweetie asked, looking back down at the mask. Now that he mentioned it, Sweetie had had the vague feeling that it looked familiar. “I… guess it is,” she said. “The Phantom had one just like this! Two, actually…”

“Well yes, of course,” the Old Stallion said. “The recent films may make the Phantom less and less ugly with each passing adaption, but theater productions still use replicas of the original prop.”

“That's not—” Sweetie said, but Starling and the old stallion had stopped listening to her.

“At any rate, I've found plenty already,” the old stallion said. “I wouldn't mind a second pass, but we can handle that later — I'll need a team to come take away some of the larger props anyways, so I can do another sweep then.”

“Ah, that sounds wonderful,” Starling said as she turned towards the exit. “I hope it doesn't seem like I'm shoving you out the door, but it's getting close to time for the electricians to show up, I think, so I need to make sure everything is ready. My husband will be dealing with the stallions themselves, but I'd like to check in with all the designers before they arrive.”

“Of course, I understand,” the old stallion said with a wave of his hoof. “You're a busy mare, doing Celestia's good work here. Lots of ponies have many fond memories of this place, and will be happy to see it re-opening. Myself included, frankly.”

“That's all I hope to hear,” Starling said. She breathed a small sigh and seemed to relax some.

As though following her lead, Sweetie Belle felt some of the tension seep from her own shoulders. She and Silver were safe from the Phantom, for now at least. That was what important. Still, it was a shame that Silver had gotten in trouble. Sweetie Belle peered over at her. Silver Spoon looked more bored than upset, but Sweetie thought she saw a hint of regret in her eye. Sweetie Belle frowned, and slowly scooted closer. “Silver,” she whispered. “I'm sorry that your mom—” but she couldn't get any more out before Starling's hoof cut between them and dragged Silver Spoon away.

“Ooooh no,” Starling said. “I'm sorry, Sweetie Belle, but Silver Spoon is in quite a lot of trouble right now. I've told her about sneaking into the storage rooms before, to say nothing of bringing somepony else back there! I'm afraid she can't talk to you at the moment.”

“W—it's not her fault!” Sweetie objected. “I asked her to bring me back here!”

“Maybe, but she agreed to it,” Starling replied. “That makes her just as responsible as you. I leave it up to your sister to decide if you'll be punished or not.”

Silver Spoon shot her a look from between her mother's legs. Surprisingly, it was not one of vitriol, but simply of sympathy and resignation. Sweetie Belle wanted to object further, but upon seeing that face she simply chewed her lip and groaned a bit.

They parted ways with the old stallion at the entrance to the storage room, then the trio of Sweetie Belle, Silver Spoon and Starling trotted silently through the halls to the main backstage where the designers were working.

Sweetie couldn’t help but worry about those poor mares and stallions. She and Silver might be safe from the Phantom, but that didn't mean the designers were. Which one of them would the Phantom go after first? The elegant Canterlot unicorn mare? The pegasus stallion who had been flirting with the workers? Rarity? Sweetie Belle blanched at the thought of it. She suddenly felt frightened all over again, but a very different sort of fear this time. It sat in her gut like a stone, weighing her whole body down. Her shoulders felt cold, and her knees weak. Somepony needed to do something! But who? Starling wouldn't listen, and if Starling wouldn't listen, then who would? It was her theater, she had as much stock in it as anypony.

Even if she could get somepony to listen, what could be done? The Phantom moved like a ghost — what if he was a ghost? How would they be able to get rid of a haunting before somepony got hurt? If the Phantom was allowed to proceed, he could burn down the theater again, or worse… The Phantom of the Opera hadn't been so random as that, in the musical that seemed to inspire the Phantom of the Bitmore. He had attacked ponies directly, and hanged them from the lighting.

Right now Sweetie Belle was one of the only ponies that knew the Phantom really existed. Nopony else would believe her. That meant that she had to do something herself. Alone. How could she take on a ghost alone?

She was thinking herself in circles, driving herself so batty that she wasn't even aware of where they were until Rarity's voice cut through her thoughts.

“Oooooh dear,” Rarity said. Sweetie looked up, and realized that Rarity was looking between her and Silver Spoon. “They didn't have a fight, did they..?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Starling said. “Quite the opposite. These two were thick as thieves — in the storage room I explicitly told Silver Spoon she was not allowed to go into.”

“Really?” Rarity asked, slightly taken aback. “That doesn't sound like Sweetie… what were you doing back there?”

“We were…” Sweetie started, but thought over it. Rarity would believe her no more than anypony else had. There was no point in telling her the truth. “I… just wanted to explore more, is all,” she replied bashfully. “I just got excited.”

Rarity sighed, and shook her head. “Well, I'm glad you're both alright, at least,” she said.

“I wouldn't worry about it,” Starling said. “The damage is done, and it was minimal. Nothing happened, just a broken rule. It's up to you to decide how serious that is, I suppose. Normally I wouldn't bother you with it, but I actually came to make sure you have something set up to store your clothes?” She looked over the rack of intricate, gauzy wraps Rarity had assembled, all of which looked terribly fragile.

“Oh… well,” Rarity said slowly, “I was just planning on leaving them here overnight. I hadn't realized… is there some reason I can't?”

Starling grimaced. “That won't do at all, I'm afraid,” she said. “The electricians will be working through the night, wiring the stage and all the backstage areas… it'll be a lot of big stallions who need lots of room, and if things go poorly there could be sparks… I'd hate for anything to happen to your beautiful dresses.”

“Oh goodness,” Rarity said, looking back at her line. “Ooooh goodness. Oh, princesses. The hotel room I booked isn't nearly big enough to store all these, not safely… I can ask if they have storage room I can use, but… the material is so fragile I can't risk…” She began to chew on her hoof. “I should make a call. I might be able to book a bigger room. Or find a different hotel.”

“Oh, I was afraid of that,” Starling said. “But don't worry! I have the perfect solution!”

Rarity blinked. “You do?” she asked.

“Yes,” Starling said matter-of-factly. “Cancel your reservation.”

Once again, Rarity blinked. Then a third time. “Ah…” she said slowly. Sweetie Belle had known Rarity long enough to know when she was summoning up her tact, and it was clear she was fighting hard. “Miss Starling, I… am not certain how you feel that would help, but—”

“I'm serious,” Starling said, clapping her hooves on Rarity's shoulders. “You and your sister will stay with my family and I at our Manehattan home.”

“What?” Rarity asked, dumbfounded. “Miss Starling, I — I couldn't—”

“Nonsense,” Starling said, shaking her head. “I've already told you, you're doing me an enormous favour. Anyways, it's my fault for not warning you sooner that you would need to store the dresses yourself. Our home has more than enough storage space, and plenty of room for two guests as well. You'll never even have to cross paths with us if you don't want to! I can send all of the proper information home with a courier so they're ready to receive you. Please, this is the least I can do for…” She looked over her shoulder and leaned in. “For our top designer here, you know. I'm very much looking forward to your showing, and I want them to look as good as possible. I insist you let me help.”

“I… oh… well,” Rarity said. She smiled suddenly and hid her blush behind a hoof. “How can I possibly say no to such generosity? Thank you so much, Miss Starling. I'd love to be your family's guest for the weekend.”

“Perfect!” Starling said with a clap. “Then it's settled! You and your sister will take a courier to our home when you're ready and finished for the night, and we'll store your dresses somewhere safe.”

From her vantage point on the edge of the conversation, Sweetie Belle sighed with relief. At least there would be no worries of the Phantom attacking the dresses in the night. Rarity would be devastated. It was almost funny. At the beginning of the day she'd have loathed the thought of spending a night in the same house as Silver Spoon, but she was too relieved to care now.

Something clicked in her head, then. She wasn't just relieved. She didn't just 'not care' about spending the night with Silver Spoon. Silver Spoon, the only other pony in the world who knew the Phantom was real. She was ecstatic! Silver could help Sweetie Belle out so much! The Phantom may have been the only other pony alive who knew more about this theater than Silver Spoon, and she'd proven herself an expert at sneaking and plotting. Surely between the two of them they could come up with a ploy to stop the Phantom, ghost or no! She grinned and shimmied with excitement where she sat.

Rarity and Starling said their last thanks and goodbyes and then Starling set off, Silver Spoon in tow. Sweetie Belle shot Silver Spoon a wide grin. Silver Spoon, for her part, merely looked confused. She would understand Sweetie Belle's smile soon, though.

Rarity sighed and slumped down onto a stool. “Goodness, me,” she said. “I'm very sorry, Sweetie Belle. I know you and Silver Spoon don't get along very well… I hate to force you to spend your weekend with her… if you like I'm sure I can find some excuse for you to avoid her tonight and tomorrow…”

“Oh, no!” Sweetie cut in, still grinning ear to ear. “I'm actually really excited!”

Rarity simply stared as Sweetie Belle smiled. Slowly her blank stare turned into an expression of vague fear and concern, the expression she always had when she suspected Sweetie was hatching one of her plans.

***

Silver Spoon slipped silently into the dressing room. She closed the door behind her. Then she checked to make sure it was shut tight. Only then did she start fumble against the wall for the light. After a moment of probing she found the switch and flicked it on. The lights of the vanity desk flickering to life illuminated the pearly white mask inches from her face.

“Cripes!” she shouted, barely keeping herself from slamming back against the door.

The Phantom snickered, taking a few steps back and trying — unsuccessfully — to stifle a laugh. “Hah!” he said. 'His' voice was starkly higher than before, not that it eased Silver Spoon's pounding heart. “Got you.”

Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah,” she said, sighing. “Real funny, Diamond. You're a master comedian.”

“A mastermind you mean,” Diamond Tiara said, pulling off her mask and rubbing away some sweat. “Was this a great plan or what? I can’t believe we got so lucky with that squatter who set up a nest in those pipes, too. Made it so much better. I told you there was an upside to that little dork being here all weekend.”

“Sure,” Silver Spoon said, trotting over to the desk chair and sitting down. “I mean, I'm getting in trouble for it, but sure.”

“Oh, pff,” Diamond said as she undid her cloak. “It’s not like there’s no chance that I’ll get in trouble if my Aunt learns I’m sneaking off and tells Daddy.”

“Aren’t you the one who said there was literally no way she’d know if you were there or gone?” Silver pointed out. “And there’s not ‘a chance’ I’ll be in trouble, I’m in trouble right now.”

Diamond Tiara dismissed this with a wave of her hoof. “Whatever. So you don't get to watch TV for a couple of days. We get to watch Sweetie Belle crying for mommy instead. Sounds like a fair tradeoff to me, right?”

“Right,” Silver Spoon lied. It was a cheap thrill at best. It's not like it was even particularly challenging. Honestly, it was like Sweetie Belle hadn't grown up at all in the last two years. Did she really believe in ghosts? How juvenile. Even worse, how could she genuinely trust Silver Spoon enough to go with her into the deeper rooms? It had been almost laughably easy to get her back there. How could anypony be so sweet and naive?

“You did a good job in there, too,” Diamond Tiara said offhandedly as she folded up her cloak. “You really acted like you were creeped out! Didn't know you were so good at acting. How come you never tried out for anything at home?”

“I don't like theater,” Silver said simply. “Anyways, I was creeped out. It's freaky back there!”

Diamond Tiara shot her a smirk and snorted. “Seriously? Don't be a wimp, Silver. It's just a room! You and I both know those rumors are dumb. We're here to scare a baby, not you. Unless you are a baby.” She grinned wider, and slipped the mask back on. “Cause then The Phantom will have to come for you too!”

“Oh, whatever,” Silver said with a snort. “I'll be better tomorrow. We'll only be there a few minutes anyways.”

“What? No way!” Diamond Tiara said. “You've gotta be in there for even longer! We'll be able to scare her even more!”

“I don't think that's a good idea,” Silver Spoon said. “Sweetie Belle is a doofus, but she's not dumb. If she sees you for too long, she'll definitely figure out something is up. I think we need to keep this short—”

“Hey, who's the mastermind here, me or you?” Diamond Tiara snapped. “Trust me, I know what I'm talking about. 'Cause Sweetie Belle is dumb, and she'll definitely fall for it. Especially if she's scared out of her wits. So you just get her back there, and let me handle the hard part, okay? Just sit back and enjoy the show.”

Silver Spoon adjusted her glasses, peering hard at Diamond Tiara just like her sister had taught her to do. It didn't work, though. Diamond Tiara simply carried on storing away the Phantom costume, humming to herself as she plotted out how she would scare Sweetie Belle next.

This was dumb, Silver Spoon thought. They were going to get themselves caught. Even if Sweetie Belle was stupid enough to fall for it three days running, any little thing could mess this up and it'd be all over, sitting in Silver Spoon's lap. A few days grounding would stretch out into weeks, not to mention whatever she'd have to do to make it up to Sweetie Belle. Or pretend to do, at least. She sighed. All she could do was ride it out and try to make sure Sweetie didn't suspect anything. At least it would make this weekend interesting.

Chapter 2: It was a Dark and Stormy Night

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

No cartoons. No movies. No friends. For three whole days.

Not that Silver Spoon would have been able to spend time with her friends this weekend anyways. Diamond Tiara would be stuck with her aunt during the evenings and most of the day. Any time Diamond Tiara did manage to get away, she was dead set on spending the entire time playing Phantom of the Bitmore. Silver Spoon couldn't blame Diamond, though. After all, she’d met Diamond Tiara's aunt. She was not the most fun pony in the world to spend a weekend with. In truth, Silver herself would have been bored to tears without their plot to keep her busy.

Diamond Tiara might not think Silver's part of the plan was very difficult, but Silver had a lot to juggle already. There was the obvious problem of how to keep Sweetie Belle close to her without letting the secret out. Then there was the issue of convincing Sweetie to go into the deeper rooms in the first place. Especially after today, Silver sincerely doubted that Sweetie would be willing to go back there.

There was no way this plan would have worked if it were any other member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Applebloom was too practical and straightforward to fall for Silver Spoon's goading; Silver could admit that to herself. Scootaloo would be easy enough to get into the deep rooms, but she would probably try to fight the Phantom head-on. Only Sweetie had the right combination of gullibility and cowardice; just enough to go back there and still be scared. It almost felt unfair. They were picking on the weakest filly they could find. Would they even have bothered pranking one of the other girls?

“Silver, dear, please sit up straight,” Starling said from across the carriage.

Silver Spoon blinked and looked up at her mother. She realized that she had allowed herself to sink further and further down on the padded seats until only her head rested against the back. The rest of her body was splayed awkwardly across the seat and dangling over the edge. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.” She grunted and shuffled her way back into a sitting position, then leaned forward to rest her forelegs on her knees.

Silver Spoon's father laughed openly. Starling hid her snicker behind her hoof as well. “You know, dear,” she said, “there's no reason to look so glum. You knew you weren't allowed to go back into the storage rooms. Even if your friend wanted to see them, you should have put your hoof down. Or at the very least, come and seen me or your father. I'd have been a bit more forgiving if one of us were there with you.”

Silver Spoon sighed. “I know, mom,” she said. “You're right, I shouldn't have listened to her. Being grounded still sucks.”

Starling looked like she was about to retort, but her husband cut her off. “Oh, let the girl sulk, Starling,” he said. His voice was a deep rumble that always put Silver Spoon at ease. It sounded like thunder in the distance, with just a tinge of accent from his days in the navy. “Fair or not, you remember how awful it was to be grounded.”

Starling smiled faintly and shifted her jaw. “I do not, in fact,” she said. “I was a good girl, growing up.”

“What happened, then?” Sunlight asked. Silver giggled behind her hoof, and Starling herself visibly struggled not to smile.

While her parents continued to banter back and forth, Silver Spoon leaned back against her seat. As her funk returned, a grumble rose under her breath. This was all Sweetie Belle's fault.

Try as she might, though, Silver Spoon couldn't actually bring herself to fault Sweetie Belle. Oh sure, she was the reason Silver had gone into the back rooms in the first place, but only to prank Sweetie. If anything, it was Diamond Tiara's fault. She was the one who came up with the plan in the first place. Diamond Tiara had only wanted to help, though.

Silver Spoon sighed and settled deeper into the seat. If it was Diamond Tiara's fault, and Diamond Tiara had only wanted to help, then there wasn't really anypony to blame in the end. There was no sense in moping over something where nopony was at fault. Silver Spoon was going to mope anyways, of course, but she at least knew it was silly. She was convinced that counted for something. She grumbled softly, then rolled over and leaned her head against the window. She stared out listlessly as her mind began to drift.

No cartoons. No movies. No friends.

Silver Spoon wasn't sure how much time passed. She was barely awake, hardly even thinking through her funk. All she knew was that eventually, the carriage rolled to a stop.

They had pulled into the drive of their Manehattan home, and After a moment the driver appeared to open the door.

Silver Spoon was the first to slide out of the carriage, carried by the momentum of the door opening out from under her. She accepted the driver's outstretched hoof to help her down, nodding an absent-minded thanks to him. She stared up at the sky. Thick gray clouds had begun to form overhead. There was no lightning, but she thought she could hear a rumbling in the distance.

“Rain's coming,” her father commented as he climbed down. “I hope the paint will hold up...”

“The painters finished the last coat hours ago,” Starling said. “It should be fine overnight. We might be lucky enough for the rain to wash the front of the theater as well.”

Sunlight bobbed his head back and forth as he considered this. “Maybe,” he said. “Shall we head inside?”

“Not just yet,” Starling said with a shake of her head. “I'd like to greet our guests and show them in myself. They're pulling up now; it'll only take a moment.”

She was proven right a moment later. Rarity and Sweetie Belle's carriage had already turned into the drive and was pulling up alongside the family's own carriage. Starling looked down at Silver Spoon and added, “You two had better head on in, though. One of you is grounded, after all.”

Silver Spoon resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Okay, mom,” she said. Sunlight chuckled and patted Silver Spoon's shoulder, turning her towards the house. Not for the first time, Silver Spoon found herself balking at the idea that her father once lived here, completely alone. It was far larger than their home in Ponyville, but Silver Spoon had never felt very comfortable here. The strong arches and thick columns along the outer wall stretched up to the sky, looking especially imposing against the dark clouds. Silver Spoon caught a hint of Sweetie Belle's voice, and peered over her shoulder as she walked up the front steps. Evidently, Sweetie Belle felt the same as her. Sweetie was gawking up at the mansion, blinking slowly.

“Wow,” Sweetie Belle said. “I thought Mom and Dad's house was big! This is huge!”

“You’ll have time for friends after the weekend, dear,” Sunlight said, putting a hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “Besides, Kelson and Nova will be waiting. You won't be starved for company.”

For the first time that evening, and in spite of her grounding, Silver Spoon grinned. It had been a very long day, about to stretch into a very long weekend, and Nova sounded like just what she needed right now. She had only taken a few steps inside when she heard the telltale pant, followed by the jingle of a collar and soft clatter of claws against the hard floor.

“Nova!” Silver Spoon shouted happily, opening her forelegs. An enormous Newfoundland barreled down the foyer staircase, nearly tossing Silver Spoon into the air as he threw himself into her hug. She giggled as the dog licked her face. She hugged his broad neck and shoulders. “It's good to see you, boy! Who's a good dog?”

Nova barked happily and rolled over so that Sweetie could rub his belly. Sunlight chuckled and walked around the pair, calling up to a stallion who had appeared on the balcony.

“Ahoy!” Sunlight said. His accent slipped out more clearly, as it always did when he spoke to Kelson. “How's it?”

“All good sir, all good,” Kelson replied as he made his way down the stairs. The burly pegasus spoke with a brogue every bit as thick as his build, much thicker than Sunlight's accent even on Sunlight's worst days. “Nova was as good as y'can expect, from a big dog inna little carriage, and the house is fine as we left it.”

“I'm glad,” Sunlight said with a nod. “We'll be having company tonight.”

“Aye?” Kelson said, peering out the door. He coughed, and when he spoke again it was clear he was trying to mask his accent. It didn’t work. “Miss Tiara managed to make it out after all?”

“No, one of Starling's designers,” Sunlight replied. “And her younger sister, one of Silver's friends. Silver, however, is grounded for the weekend.”

Silver's smile faded. She had been hoping that her father would have forgotten to pass that along. There went her last chance to get away with something this weekend.

Instead, Kelson nodded and peered at Silver with a knowing smile. “Aye? Aye,” he said. “Seems a shame. You go runnin' in the back again, Wee Miss?”

Silver winced, and laughed awkwardly. “I... yeah,” she sighed. “I know I'm not supposed to.”

“Aye, well,” Kelson said, peering over Silver Spoon's head and out the door again. Silver Spoon looked back. Her mother was still outside, talking to Rarity and Sweetie Belle. “'Tween you and I, and your Pap, nothing wrong with a bit of adventure.” He coughed, then straightened up. “Still! Rules is rules.” He turned to Sunlight. “I'll take her to her room, then?”

“If you could,” Sunlight said with a nod. “I should greet Miss Rarity and Sweetie Belle as well.”

Just then, however, Sweetie came bolting through the door like a bullet aimed straight at Silver Spoon. Silver fell back and yelped, shocked by the sudden approach.

“Silver, wait u—” Sweetie Belle said, before she was cut off by one hundred and fifty pounds of fur. Nova had placed himself in between Silver and Sweetie, and seemed to barely notice as Sweetie Belle bounced off his side and flopped to the floor. He barked and crouched down to lick Sweetie’s face with a series of loud slurps.

“Nova!” Silver Spoon said, sitting up. “Bad boy!” She jumped down from the bed, running into the hall after them and hooking her hooves into Nova’s collar. She hauled backwards, but Nova didn't seem to notice her at all. After a few moments of fruitless straining Nova finally backed up off his victim. Silver Spoon blinked.

“Sweetie Belle?” Silver Spoon asked through a grimace. “Are you okay?”

Sweetie Belle answered with a weak groan. She was still stunned, Silver could see that much, but she managed to prop herself up to her elbows. “I... think so,” she said.

That was good, at least. “I’m sorry about Nova,” Silver Spoon said. “He’s usually good, he's just friendly, and doesn't know his own strength.” She shot a hard look at Nova. This time it seemed to work, as Nova whined quietly. “He's still a puppy,” she said.

“That's a big puppy,” Sweetie Belle said as she got the rest of the way to her hooves.

“Yeah, well,” Silver said with a shrug. She paused. “Sweetie, what are you doing here?”

“Your mom invited Rarity and me to stay with you, remember?” Sweetie Belle said.

Silver Spoon simply stared at Sweetie Belle for a moment. She decided not to comment on that. “Sweetie, I’m grounded. I can’t… uh…” Silver Spoon's heart stopped. Her mother and Rarity had both come inside and they, Kelson, and Silver’s father were all staring directly at Silver and Sweetie.

“Mom! Daddy!” Silver Spoon said, catching a glimpse of her mother's rapidly darkening expression. She stepped away from Sweetie. “Uhhh...”

“Young Lady,” Starling began, but Sweetie Belle stepped forward.

“Please don't get mad at Silver!” she said, waving her hooves. “It was my idea. I was thinking... uh, well...” Sweetie Belle stammered a bit and rubbed her neck. “Well, it just seemed unfair that she was grounded this weekend, is all.” She let the statement hang in the air for a moment. Silver Spoon's parents looked at one another. Sunlight cocked an eyebrow.

“It's just,” Sweetie Belle continued, “it was my fault she was in the back rooms in the first place. And I know you told her she shouldn't have listened to me, and uh, she shouldn't have, but... she's still got a whole long weekend in the same house as one of her friends, so it... just seems unfair that we can't do anything together.” She swallowed and flashed a toothy, desperate smile up at Silver's parents.

Starling was still frowning, though she at least didn't look angry. “You still broke the rules, Silver,” She pointed out. “Whether or not it's fair, you knew you weren't allowed back there. We can't simply overlook that.” She turned to her husband, obviously expecting confirmation, but Sunlight was rubbing his chin.

“She makes a good argument,” he said. “It does seem a bit harsh.”

Starling’s frown deepend. “Well, yes,” she said. “she’s being punished. It wouldn’t be much of a punishment if she didn’t miss out anything, now would it?”

“Maybe so, but this sees like a bit much for what she did, don’t you think?” Sunlight asked. “Not being able to see her friends is one thing; having one here and not being able to spend time with her is quite another.”

Starling began to retort, but faltered. “Well… it’s not as if we can just not punish her.”

“Maybe we could suspend her punishment, though?” Sunlight suggested. “She’ll be ungrounded for the weekend—so long as she’s spending time with her friend of course—but her grounding will resume during the week. All four days, not just three, as payment for suspending it.”

Silver Spoon winced. An extra-long grounding wasn't exactly her idea of fair payment. Then again, she would at least be able to spend time with Diamond Tiara at school during the week. There was nothing they could do about that. “That... seems fair?” Silver said weakly.

Starling nodded slowly. “I… suppose it does. However,” she said, pointing a hoof at Silver, “if you two go back into the back rooms tomorrow, the deal is off. Is that clear?”

“Yes mom,” Silver said with a nod.

Starling nodded back, and Sunlight chuckled. “Go off and play, then,” he said. “Kelson will bring you both dinner when it’s ready. Nova can stay with us for now.” He whistled, and Nova trotted over to him.

“Okay!” Sweetie Belle said, taking hold of Silver Spoon's hoof again. “Thanks so much! We'll be good from now on, I promise!”

Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle trotted down an adjacent hallway, and Silver Spoon finally became aware that she had been holding her breath. She breathed out heavily and let her shoulders go slack. She managed to lead Sweetie Belle just far enough down the hall that she was sure her parents wouldn't overhear them, then slumped against the wall.

“Wow,” she said. She lifted up her glasses and rubbed her eyes. “I almost can't believe that worked.” She set her glasses back on her nose and looked at Sweetie Belle. The other filly was beaming broadly, and Silver Spoon couldn't help but smile as well. Sweetie Belle had actually managed to do her an enormous favour. Well, maybe not enormous. There were too many strings attached. “Thanks, Sweetie Belle,” Silver said. “That was cool of you… and really clever. But, uh... why?”

Sweetie Belle giggled and looked down. “Not really,” she said. “I don't really like fudging stuff like that... but I need your help.”

Silver Spoon's smiled faded. “My help? What do you need my help for?”

Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to speak, and paused. She looked around for a moment, as though expecting somepony to be listening in, and shuffled closer to Silver. When she spoke it was in a low whisper. “Because of the Phantom!”

A silence fell over the two fillies. Silver Spoon felt her heart start to pound in her chest. Her mind, cruel trickster that it was, ran through all of the worst options. Was Sweetie Belle onto her? Was this blackmail? Silver Spoon knew that Sweetie Belle was smarter than Diamond Tiara gave her credit for, but this was way too soon. Sweetie Belle had been petrified when they saw the Phantom; there was no way she would have had the presence of mind to figure it out.

“Silver,” Sweetie said. Silver spoon's heart skipped a beat. “Your mom didn't believe us when we told her about the Phantom, and I don't think anypony else will either. We're the only two who know he exists, and what he's planning to do! If we don't stop him, nopony will, and you know what he said he'll do if we don't!”

It took everything Silver Spoon had to not sigh with relief. At the very least Sweetie Belle hadn't caught on to the prank. Yet. Silver looked back and forth down the hall, trying to find some way out of this.

“Well...” Silver Spoon said, pawing at the floor. “Well, what's the big deal? There's no way he can actually follow through on any of those threats.”

“He did before!” Sweetie Belle insisted.

Silver Spoon rolled her eyes. Sweetie Belle was going to be persistent about this. How was Silver Spoon supposed to get her to back off and make sure she could still get Sweetie Belle into the back rooms tomorrow? “You don't know that,” she said. “It could have just been a random fire and this guy is taking credit for it.” She turned away from Sweetie and started towards her bedroom.

Sweetie Belle darted around her, blocking the hall. “But what if it wasn't? What if he actually can burn down the theater? What if somepony gets hurt?”

Silver Soon frowned. “Nova,” she said. Her voice was as stern and commanding as she could manage, but nothing happened. It took her a long, awkward moment to remember that Nova was no longer in his usual place at her side. “Ugh,” she said. “Right.” Silver Spoon shook her head and turned back down the hall.

The manor was an ancient thing, built close to the founding of Manehattan and updated by its various owners until Silver’s father had bought it years ago. The result was a twisting, if regal, mass of hallways and deceptively large or small rooms. Walls had been knocked out according the whims of one owner, then put up by the next, and vents and electricity had been added as soon as it was feasible. Silver wove her way through the corridors, trying her best to escape Sweetie Belle. She had half hoped that Sweetie might get caught up in the glitz of the powerful ceiling arches, or the various paintings of old relatives, or even tripped down by the lush cream carpets. She weaved through bedrooms and sitting rooms and parlours, but Sweetie Belle dogged her every step.

“Go away, Sweetie,” she said eventually.. “The dumb Phantom isn't going to hurt anypony. If you want to play ghost chaser, then fine, but I don't want to get into any more trouble this weekend. I’d rather just be grounded.”

Sweetie Belle grabbed Silver Spoon's foreleg and pulled her back. Silver Spoon stumbled for a moment, surprised by the filly’s sudden burst of aggression. Then she rounded on Sweetie Belle. She worked up the will to shove Sweetie away, to shout at Sweetie to leave her alone. Instead she stopped. Sweetie Belle's face was turning red, her eyes brimming with tears.

“Please, Silver Spoon,” Sweetie Belle said. She sounded like she was about to cry as well, her voice cracking even more than usual. “You're the only pony who can help! This is your parents’ theater too, don't you even care that it could get burned down? What if they're inside?”

“Wh—I,” Silver Spoon stammered.

Sweetie Belle carried on, though, determined not to be brushed off this time. “All you ever do is be mean to ponies!” she said. “But we had a truce this weekend, okay? So...” she sniffled. “So why can't you just be nice for once? Can't you just do the right thing, just this one time? I need your help, Silver.”

“I...” Silver Spoon said. She rocked from hoof to hoof, chewing her lip. How could she say no to that? Sweetie Belle looked like she could burst into tears at any moment. She wasn't sure if she felt worse or better about pranking Sweetie Belle now. The filly clearly had a weapon of her own.

Silver Spoon groaned and rolled her head. “Okay,” she said. “Fine.” She faltered for a moment, then leaned forward and hugged Sweetie. “Just don't cry, okay? I... don't think I could convince your sister it wasn't my fault.”

Sweetie froze up, but after a long moment she hugged Silver back. “Y-yeah,” Sweetie Belle said, sniffling faintly. “I'm fine.”

Silver Spoon let go of Sweetie and leaned against the wall. At least Sweetie Belle was feeling better, but Silver was well and truly stuck now. She sighed internally. At the very least she might be able to make sure Sweetie Belle didn't come up with anything that actually risked Diamond Tiara being caught. She rubbed her foreleg. “So, uh…what now? Is there a part two of your plan?”

“Oh,” Sweetie said, looking up again. She blinked. “Uh, I... hadn't actually thought of that.”

Silver Spoon paused. “Seriously?” she asked. She had never met somepony who could be so clever in some ways and so airheaded in others. Even Diamond Tiara was at least consistent in where her 'master plans' had holes.

Sweetie Belle looked away and crossed her hooves defensively. “Well, I was gonna figure that out if I could get your parents to let us be together! And I did, so...” She knit her brows. “I guess... Well, we need to stop the Phantom.”

“Well yeah,” Silver said. “That's kinda the point of this.”

Sweetie Belle frowned at Silver. “I know that,” she said. “But... you saw the way The Phantom was flying around, right? I'm not sure a pony could actually fly like that... especially not without us seeing his wings. I think... The Phantom might actually be a phantom.”

“Okay,” Silver said. “So?”

Sweetie Belle hummed, knitting her brow deeper. “So...” she said. “Well, we need to come up with something to stop a ghost, I guess! But... I don't actually know what that is.”

Silver Spoon frowned and leaned back against the wall. “I don't know either,” she said. For once, she was being honest. If Sweetie Belle was going to hunt a ghost, however, then there was nothing for Silver to worry about. It would be easy enough to keep her away from anything that would actually have a chance at catching Diamond. Sweetie Belle would be disappointed if they went in there without a plan tomorrow, however. She might not even be willing to go into the back rooms at all, without something to back them up. Silver might not have had to worry about Sweetie Belle potentially catching Diamond, but they still needed to come up with something. “We should at least get something to make it easier to see back there,” she muttered to herself.

“Oh!” Sweetie Belle said, perking up. “That's a great idea!”

Silver Spoon looked up. “Huh?” she asked. “What is?”

“Something to see better!” Sweetie said. “It was super dark back there, and the Phantom snuck up on us. But I'll bet if we could see what we were doing better we might be able to get the drop on him.” She rubbed her chin. “I don't know much about ghosts, but the light might hurt him, too! That's a great idea, Silver!”

“I... you think so?” Silver asked. She hadn't even been trying to come up with a real idea.

“Absolutely! Do you have a flashlight or something?”

“Um... well, I guess we have a garage where the carriages are kept. There might be some stuff in there?”

“That's great,” Sweetie Belle said. “Come on, I bet it's a super good one too!” She turned around and began to trot off as Silver Spoon clambered to her hooves.

Silver Spoon stared after Sweetie Belle as she trotted away. She waited for a moment. Then another. Eventually she put her hoof to her mouth and shouted, “Sweetie!”

Sweetie turned around. “Huh?” she shouted back.

Silver Spoon pointed over her shoulder. “The garage is that way.”

“...Oh,” Sweetie Belle said. It was difficult to tell at this distance, but Silver Spoon was pretty sure Sweetie Belle was blushing. Sweetie Belle cantered back to Silver and said, “Maybe you should lead the way.”

“Yeah,” Silver Spoon said. she smirked and started to lead Sweetie in the direction of the garage. “That’s probably for the best.”

Silver worked out a plan as they walked. What could she suggest that would believably stop a ghost, but not Diamond Tiara? Most importantly, how far could she push the issue without Sweetie figuring her out? Silver had to keep reminding herself that Sweetie was sharper than she seemed. She could almost forgive Diamond Tiara for assuming Sweetie was stupid.

It seemed impossible to tell what she was thinking about at any given moment, or how much she knew. What she picked up on or missed seemed random at best, and no matter whether she had something or not she kept an air of charm and sweetness that disguised what she was thinking. Even worse, her smile made a pony want to just smile back and forget about it.

Even now Silver wasn't sure if Sweetie was on to her or if she was just genuinely being nice. It seemed absurd to think of. Silver had spent so much time being nasty to Sweetie Belle and her friends, the fact that Sweetie was trying to call a truce was amazing.

Silver Spoon scowled. That was something else to add to the list: Sweetie Belle was outright distracting with how nice she was. If it had been Diamond Tiara—or anypony else, really—Silver could have been sure she was doing it on purpose, but Sweetie made it feel genuine. Silver adjusted her glasses and put the thought out of her mind. Whether or not Sweetie was trying to distract her, she still had to come up with something.

Silver Spoon slowed slightly as they approached the garage door. It had been propped open, and she could hear some rummaging coming from inside. She peeked through as she and Sweetie arrived and scanned the large, open room.

In spite of the gilded nature of the rest of the manor, the garage was as dull and dingy as any. Both walls and floor were dark gray stone with little in the way of adornments. Puddles of oil and rainwater dotted the floor around the two carriages, and the nearby wall was obscured by a tall pile of cardboard boxes, enough to fill a smaller garage with barely room to walk. Behind the pile, Silver Spoon knew, was where the drivers did the majority of their work maintaining carriages. There was a tool bench that Silver suspected had never been organized in its existence, constantly strewn with various tool and parts as the drivers needed them. Beside that was a tall, rickety shelf containing various bits and pieces used to maintain the carriages.

The rain came down, and its hiss and the clatter on the cobblestone outside gave the room a low soundtrack through the open garage door. If the door had been left open that meant the drivers were on break, which meant there could only be one pony in here. Silver Spoon fought to keep a grin down as an idea popped into her head. This was perfect.

“Kelson?” Silver Spoon called into the garage. The sound of rummaging stopped, and the stallion peeked out from behind a stack of boxes.

“Ah!” Kelson said, beaming up at the two fillies. Silver Spoon stepped inside, carefully climbing down the three wooden steps to the garage floor. “Wee Miss. Wee Miss's friend... Miss Belle, was it?”

Sweetie Belle giggled as she followed Silver into the garage. “Um, you can just call me Sweetie, Mr. Kelson,”

Kelson smiled wider. “Well then, Sweetie, y’can just call me Kelson. How can I help you two?”

“We're looking for a flashlight,” Sweetie Belle said. Kelson's smile faded.

“Now, Wee Miss,” he said, turning to Silver, “I know I did say a bit of adventure is good for a young filly, but y’shouldn't be so quick to disobey your mam...”

Sweetie winced and began to stammer, but Silver cut her off. “Oh, we aren't going into the back rooms,” Silver assured Kelson. “But we heard about a ghost haunting the theater today! So, we need a flashlight in case we see him and need to scare him off...” She blinked as though she had just thought of something, and adjusted her glasses. “Um… say, Kelson?” she asked. “Do you know anything about ghosts? It's just, there are so many stories about haunted ships, and you were a sailor for so long...”

Kelson tilted his head slightly and smiled. “Aye...” he said slowly. “Aye, I've seen a ghost or two in my time, as it happens. An' I can tell you, a flashlight ain't gonna stop them. Ghosts come with their own light, y'ken? Fire from the ropes, fire from the masts, that's how y'know a ghost’s comin',” He cleared his throat and took a seat on a sturdy box.

“It was a few years a'fore your pap an’ I sailed together,” he said. “I was just a lad, servin' on a wee schooner. We were sailin' far north, close to a place sailors don't go… I suppose we drifted too close. Was about midnight a fire went up from the main-mast, St. Elmo's fire. I'd seen it a’fore, but not like this. It stretched up right to the heavens. Then we heard a wailin', an’ then ghosts! Dozens of 'em, just... there. Ghosts on the riggin', ghosts up the crow's nests, ghosts in the galley... wailin' an' gnashin' an’ settin' half the crew mad with fright. We'd a likely been lost, if it hadn’t been for the cook.”

This wasn't the first time Silver Spoon had heard this story, but the mere thought of it sent shivers up her spine. She had asked her father once if he thought it was true. All he had said is that sometimes strange things happen at sea. Silver Spoon peered over at Sweetie. The other filly was visibly trembling, but she was enraptured by the story.

“T-the cook?” Sweetie Belle asked. “What did he do?”

“Well, he found the secret a’how to stop the ghosts,” Kelson said. “'He must'a done it by accident—knocked his cupboards out in fear of the ghosts, maybe—but he came out an’ set them ghosts away right after...” Kelson reached behind the stack of boxes and rummaged around for a moment. “Nay, Wee Miss, it aint light you need. It’s salt!” He drew his hoof back and placed an enormous tin container of salt in front of himself.

Sweetie looked staggered by the revelation. In fact, she almost physically staggered back, rocking on her heels. “Salt?” she asked.

“Aye, salt,” Kelson said. “I know, I know, it sounds mad. Probably is. But the ghosts clean vanished at the touch of it. The rest of them got the picture soon enough and backed off. Wouldn’t even cross a line of salt on the deck. I can't tell you why it works, I only know it does.”

He rubbed his chin. “Course, your mam probably won't like you walkin' around tossin' salt all over the theater. If you're lookin' to double up, I used to tell that story to anypony who'd listen in a port, and I found a few ponies with some ghost stories of their own. Most of them just turned tail and ran as fast as they could, or went overboard and got lucky enough to find another boat. I met one stallion though, swore up down an’ sideways that the ghosts just passed him by. He said he thought over it a dozen times, and the only thin' it coulda been was a pocketful of iron bolts. So, might be worth a go?” He shrugged. “Any sailor worth his spit gets hisself some kinda good luck charm or protective talisman before his first year of sailin's out.

“Now!” He slapped his knees and got to his hooves, retrieving a thick, leatherbound book from behind the stack. “I'm afraid I was in here lookin' for one of your mam's old family albums, so I'd best be gettin' back to her.” He tucked the book under a wing and headed for the door. He patted Silver’s head gently as he reached her, brushing a stray lock of mane back into place. He smiled down at her. “An’ don't be lettin' that ghost scare you too bad,” he said. “I know you an’ Phantoms don't get along too well, ‘specially where theater's concerned, but you're a brave filly. Don't let what might not be there get y’too riled up.”

Silver Spoon cringed so hard she nearly curled into a ball. This had to be the time Kelson picked to tease her? There was no way Sweetie Belle hadn't heard that. Kelson laughed and ruffled her mane before trotting up the stairs. “Don't forget t’close the door when you’re done, Wee Miss,” he said.

Silver Spoon groaned under her breath and looked over her shoulder at Sweetie, her face contorted in a miserable, squinting grimace. It had taken weeks of careful dodging and false promises to get Diamond Tiara to stop asking about it. She could practically feel Sweetie Belle’s question coming, as though it were an animal waiting to pounce.

Sweetie, for her part, seemed confused. She wore a small frown, and her head was tilted like a curious puppy’s. “What was that about?” she asked.

Silver Spoon looked away. “It—” she said, rubbing her neck. “It's just a thing from when I was young, and a show, and, uh...” She rubbed her neck. “We should get looking for that flashlight,” she said.

“Right,” Sweetie agreed. She trotted towards the collection of shelves and boxes and peered over her shoulder. “Does it have something to do with why you don't like theater? Kelson mentioned theater and opera—”

“No,” Silver Spoon cut her off. “I mean, yes, but—look, I don't want to talk about it, okay?”

“Oh,” Sweetie said. She paused, but eventually said, “Um, okay. Where would the flashlights be?”

Silver Spoon breathed a sigh of relief. At least Sweetie wasn't going to latch onto the idea like Diamond Tiara had. “I guess it'd probably be on the tool bench?” she said, pointing to the bench in question. “If you look for that, I guess I can... probably find some nuts and bolts or something?” She picked up the tin of salt that Kelson had left behind. “I think we've got enough salt.”

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle said as she trotted toward the toolbench. “That's a good plan. But... do you really think having iron will help?”

“Well, sure?” Silver Spoon said. She trotted past Sweetie Belle to the shelves. She knew that she'd seen the carriage drivers taking odds and ends to maintain the carriages from here, so there must have been something. “Kelson said that stallion had it, right? Even if it wasn't what kept the ghost away from him, it's worth a shot.”

“Right,” Sweetie Belle agreed. “But, did the iron keep the ghost away from him, or make the ghost not see him?”

Silver Spoon pulled a box out of the shelf and peeked inside. It contained an old pair of slippers and a discarded nail. Definitely not something they could use. “Does it matter?” she asked as she shoved the box back into place. Her mind was only half on the conversation as she thought of ways she could use the iron. A fake ward, maybe?

“Sure it does,” Sweetie Belle said. She had begun shifting the old tools aside. “How are we supposed to fight the Phantom if he doesn't even know we’re there?”

An idea struck Silver Spoon so suddenly and so violently that her head jerked up and thumped against the shelf above her. She clutched her head for a moment, but she quickly recovered and adjusted her glass. “Sweetie, why on earth would we want to fight the Phantom?” she asked. Sweetie Belle opened her mouth, but Silver cut her off. Silver felt her stomach knot up; Sweetie Belle could easily steer them to a dangerous plan and there was no reasonable way that Silver would be able to talk her out of it.

“This guy burned down the theater and tried to hurt ponies before he died,” Silver said. “What would he be like now? And you want to—what? Challenge him to a hooffight?”

Sweetie Belle considered this for a moment, looking more and more fearful as she thought about it. “Oh,” she said softly. Silver breathed a sigh of relief, and Sweetie said, “Then... what are we supposed to do?”

“Well...” Silver Spoon said. She tapped her chin in a pantomime of thought, but the idea was already fully formed. Sweetie Belle would give diamond Tiara all the warning in the world if Sweetie thought she was invisible. “We could use the iron to sneak up on him!” Silver said. “He'd never see us coming!”

Sweetie Belle gasped and beamed, reaching out and grabbing Silver's hooves. “That's a great idea!” she said. Her voice squeaked with excitement. “We can just sneak up behind him and toss the salt on him!” Though her smile never faded, she took on a look of profound concentration. “And... and, if the iron actually just pushes ghosts away, we can use that too! There's a bunch of twine here we can use to make a net, and if we string a bunch of nuts and bolts and stuff along the twine before we tie it, I'll bet that the net will be able to catch the Phantom!”

“That's a good idea,” Silver said. She grimaced internally and added, “What, um... what if we put the net over the door? He was avoiding pipes and stuff, so he might not be able to go through walls. We might be able to trap him inside even if we can't catch him?”

Sweetie beamed. “Good plan,” she said. She turned back the pile of boxes, rummaging through for the twine she had seen. “See if you can find some nuts and bolts and stuff we can put on it!”

“Yeah,” Silver said as she returned to the shelf. She sighed with relief and rubbed her eyes. She could only hope that this plan would tide Sweetie Belle over. From where she left off, she only had to move a few more boxes down before she found one full nearly to bursting with discarded nuts, bolts and screws. She dragged it off the shelf, grunting from the surprising weight of it, but she managed to keep hold of it.

Sweetie Belle pulled a large bundle of twine out of the boxes, and turned to Silver. “This is great!” she said. “I bet we'll be able to turn this into a net in no time. I've never made one before, but how hard can it be, right?”

Silver Spoon was silent for a moment, then smirked. “Cutie Mark Crusaders Net Makers?” She asked. Her tone was just a hint sardonic.

Sweetie Belle frowned for a moment, but eventually smiled. “We haven’t crusaded since we all got our cutie marks,” she said. “That was like, a year ago when Scootaloo jumped over half the class on her scooter. We just hang out now.”

“What do you even do?” Silver Spoon asked. “I don't think I ever saw you not trying to do... something for your marks.”

“We're more like clubhouse crusaders now,” Sweetie said. “We don't really do anything. We just hang out. Sometimes we go out and play. Sometimes we just watch movies.” She giggled. “I guess I can be a garage crusader today.”

There was a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder from outside the garage door. A sharp gust of cold air blew in, bringing rain with it and sending a chill through Silver. She shivered, wrapping her forelegs around herself. “Jeeze,” she muttered. “Well, I don’t know about you, but it isn’t usually so cold where I hang out.”

Sweetie Belle was shivering as well. “Uh, no,” she said. “Maybe we should move inside?”

Silver Spoon nodded. “Did you find that flashlight?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Sweetie said. She grabbed the flashlight and salt off the workbench. She tossed them and the twine into the box as fast she she could manage, rubbing her forelegs to keep warm. “It got really cold in here…”

Silver grunted as she wrapped her forehooves around the box. “I think the house was built before they invented heating,” she said. “They mostly fixed it, but I guess they never bothered in here.” She hauled the box up and tottered for a moment, quickly setting it down before she could lose her balance. She snorted at the box and set her hooves against it, getting ready to push.

“Ooh, wait!” Sweetie Belle said. Her horn lit up, and with a look of obvious effort she began to levitate the box. “Nnf,” she grunted, straining under the weight against her magic. “I think… I can…” She stumbled a bit, and Silver ran up to her.

“Careful,” Silver said, bracing Sweetie with her shoulder. She set her hooves, trying to hold up Sweetie until the filly could recover, and gasped as she felt a heavy weight land on her back.

“There!” Sweetie declared, panting visibly.

Silver Spoon twisted her head around to look. The box was situated across both their backs, sharing the weight. Silver Spoon wanted to object at first, but she had to admit that the box wasn’t nearly as heavy shared between them. “... I guess we’re not getting this thing out of here otherwise,” she said eventually. “Ready, I guess?”

“Uh huh!” Sweetie said. Silver Spoon had to stoop slightly to keep level as they set off, but she found it surprisingly easy to keep an even pace with Sweetie Belle.

Sweetie closed the door behind them as they left the garage. She looked sheepish for a moment and said, “... I know it's kind of selfish, but it's fun to have an adventure again. Even if it's really dangerous.”

Silver shook her head, but she had to smile. Having adventures did seem more like Sweetie Belle than sitting around doing nothing. It seemed like every time she had seen Sweetie Belle, Sweetie Belle and her friends were up to something. Usually with disastrous results.

“I never got it,” Silver said. “I mean, you three and your adventures. Diamond Tiara and I just watched movies, or...” Or made fun of Sweetie Belle and her friends. Or other ponies. Silver coughed. “Well, anyways,” she said. “The Clubhouse Crusaders sound better to me.”

“Do you watch a lot of movies?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“I guess?” Silver said. “Daddy has a huge collection. We watched a bunch, but a lot of them were weird or boring. Why, you want to watch something?” She turned down a hallway, changing her direction towards the movie room.

“We could watch something while we work on the net!” Sweetie Belle suggested. “What kind of movies does your dad have?”

“Uh... lots of old stuff, I guess,” Silver replied. “He's got some cartoon movies... comedies, romantic movies... he has a bunch of old stuff with weird titles, too. A bunch of movies about a Thin Stallion, A Flight at the Opera, Some Like It Trot...”

“Ooh!” Sweetie Belle said suddenly, grabbing Silver Spoon's shoulders. “Silver, I have a great idea!”

“Guh!” Silver Spoon said, jerking away from Sweetie Belle. It took her a moment to regain her balance with the heavy box in her hooves. “What? What idea?”

“A Flight at the Opera!” Sweetie Belle said, grinning from ear to ear. “I've seen it before. It's made by the Marks Brothers, they're a vaudeville group! You know what vaudeville is, right?”

Silver Spoon cocked an eyebrow at Sweetie. “...No?” she said.

“It's theater!” Sweetie Belle said.

“Ugh—” Silver said before Sweetie cut her off.

“It's really different from plays and musicals, though,” Sweetie Belle assured her. “It's not serious at all, and everypony in it acts like real ponies, 'cause they are—everything in the Marks Brothers’ movies is something they just made up, either in the scene or before! Nopony had to write any of it. Have you ever seen a Marks Brothers movie before?”

Silver Spoon frowned deeper. “No,” she said. “I told you, I really don't like theater.”

Sweetie Belle only grinned wider. “This isn't like normal theater!” she said. “I'll bet all you need to do is see something a bit different!”

Sweetie Belle bounded ahead, forcing Silver to pick up her pace. Silver pulled her lips back over her teeth, but it wasn’t worth starting a fight in the midst of their truce. It wasn’t like she had any better ideas anyways. “Well... I guess if you want to watch it,” she said as they turned into the theater room, her voice flat and dry.

Long ago, when the manor had first been built, this had been a sitting room. Silver Spoon had never been fully certain what that meant, but in the case of the theater room it meant a wide-open room with thick carpeting and gilded sconces. The torches had long-since been replaced with modern lighting and heavy shades, however.

A large sofa sat in the middle of the room, easily large enough to seat an entire family and then some. The wall behind the sofa was barren. Beside the sofa, however, were several large shelves filled to the brim with VHS tapes. Silver had always wondered if her father could have possibly watched all of them. On the final wall, in front of the sofa, was an enormous television set that stretched to nearly all four corners. Silver Spoon shifted the box off onto the sofa with a grunt. Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle raced to the shelves and began searching through them.

Silver Spoon settled into the couch while Sweetie Belle searched for the movie. She tried to think distasteful thoughts of Sweetie, but when nothing came to her she eventually resorted to grumbling internally. Her mood became a dark cloud, roiling without a form and looking for something to lash out at. She managed to restrain herself, however, as Sweetie Belle put in the movie and bounced down next to her on the couch.

“This is great!” Sweetie Belle said. “I'll bet this'll change your mind for sure on theater!”

“Sure,” Silver Spoon said, rolling her eyes. “That'll happen.”

Sweetie Belle sagged a bit and frowned. “Aren't you at least going to give it a shot?” she asked.

Silver Spoon sighed and folded her forelegs across her chest. “Why?” she asked. “I've been giving theater a chance for years—I haven't had a choice in the matter! I already know I don't like it, I don't see why that would be any different just because it's a different kind of theater. Why do you care so much, anyways? You do know it's not normal for fillies to be into theater, right? It's weird.”

“I don't care if it's weird,” Sweetie Belle said. “I like theater! I think it's great. And so do your parents! You said they take you to plays and shows all the time.”

“Yeah, well, they're not the ones who have to deal with Phantoms, are they?” Silver Spoon demanded, throwing up her hooves.

Her words hung in the air for a moment. They room was silent, save for the whizzing of the tape, as both fillies took in what had been said.

“Phantom...s?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Silver Spoon grabbed a hoofful of nuts from the box at her hooves. “We should get started on the net,” she said. She would never admit it, but now that she had mentioned phantoms out loud the iron felt good against her hoof. The idea of having something to stave off creepy, stalking spirits was comforting.

“Is there more than one Phantom?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Do you know something?”

“No,” Silver lied, furrowing her brow and unwinding a length of twine. She tried to focus on starting the net, but Sweetie was unwilling to let it go this time.

“Silver, if you know something about the Phantom I don't, I have to know!” Sweetie said. “This is way too important to play games! Kelson said something about you and Phantoms, do you—”

“Kelson was just teasing me!” Silver Spoon snapped. She snorted in exasperation and said, “It's not like he's going to snatch us away to some weird... creepy love pit or something.” She immediately regretted her words.

Sweetie Belle paused, tilting her head in confusion for a moment. “Like the Phantom of the Opera?” she asked. “What does that have to do with this?”

“It's not—” Silver said, wincing. She squeezed her eyes shut and wracked her mind for some way to backpedal. “Nothing. It's not important. I said I didn't want to talk about it, okay?” She waved her hooves vaguely, struggling to end the conversation before it began. “I mean, it's not even the same Phantom. The Phantom of the Opera was some weird... stalker guy who didn't understand no—and not a real pony—and this guy is just some weirdo with a lighter! He hasn't got... nooses, or a boat, or any weird cave under the theater... he lives in the plumbing. It's completely different...” she groaned, thumping her head against the back of the couch. Why did Sweetie have to make it so hard to lie to her? Out of the corner of her eye she could see Sweetie Belle taking it all in. Here it came...

“Is that why you don't like theater?” Sweetie asked.

Silver Spoon didn't answer. Instead she just sighed and lay motionless on the couch.

“You're afraid of the Phantom of the Opera, aren't you?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Silver groaned. Her insides churned. She wanted to deny it, or to change the subject, but she knew what she was backed into a corner. Or down a hole she had dug. “I'm not... yeah, kinda,” she said. “I'm not afraid of the play. I can watch it just fine, and not be scared, but...” she rubbed her forelegs. It had been a long, long time since she had told anypony this, and she wasn't really sure how to say it. “Look... you can't laugh, okay?” she said, jabbing a hoof at Sweetie Belle. “I'll tell you, but... please don't laugh at me. I don't need somepony to tell me it's dumb.”

“I promise,” Sweetie Belle said. There was no hesitation. Silver Spoon stared hard at her and was surprised to find that, more than no hesitation, Sweetie Belle looked completely genuine. Her face was open and honest, with a small crease of concern along her brow. Not pity, or amusement. Just simple concern. Looking at that face, Silver felt the words come to her easier.

She breathed deep, and started to tell her story. “When I was a little filly, I was taking acting classes,” she said. “Mom and Daddy started taking me to plays and stuff when I was really young, so it felt natural. I mean, what little filly doesn't want to be an actress when she grows up? And I was really good at it. The teachers said I was the best in my class. So good, they asked me to take part in a show with some of the bigger foals.” She breathed deep, and rolled the iron nuts in her hoof.

“It was Phantom of the Opera. They wanted me to play Christine. Can you imagine? Just a little filly, playing the lead role. I was so excited. I was doing great in the rehearsals, I liked all the other foals, I got along great with the colts who played Raoul and The Phantom... everything was going great. Then we went to actually put on the play, and...

“And I just freaked out. We were on stage, and I saw the crowd for the first time, and I couldn't do it. I started thinking about what if The Phantom was real, what if he was actually coming to steal me away to be his angel in some cave somewhere? I hated it. I was so scared. I couldn't say my lines at all. And worst of all, everypony was watching me.”

Silver Spoon sighed weakly and rolled away from Sweetie Belle. “I ruined the show. They got the understudy to do the rest... I stayed in the class for a while, and tried to do a few other shows, but it was always the same thing. I thought of everypony looking at me, and started thinking about... some creep becoming obsessed with me and stealing me away. Every time I went on stage I just got scared, so eventually I stopped.” She snorted at herself. “Sometimes I think being afraid of the Phantom was just an excuse to not go on stage... but that doesn't make me not afraid of him.”

The pair were quiet for a while. There was no sound at all, save for the rhythmic pounding of the rain outside and the gentle drone of the movie ads. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled. Sweetie Belle giggled.

Silver sighed and rolled her eyes. “Thanks,” she said.

Sweetie Belle giggled again, and waved her hooves. “I'm sorry!” she said. “I'm not laughing at you, I promise.”

“Well you're sure not laughing with me,” Silver Spoon grumbled, folding her forelegs across her chest.

“I know,” Sweetie Belle said. “I'm sorry. It's just...” She looked down at the couch for a moment and said, “I never knew you were so brave.”

Silver Spoon peered back at Sweetie Belle and scowled. She was almost certain Sweetie was making fun of her, but there wasn't a single hint of mockery on the filly's face. “Brave?” Silver Spoon demanded. “How can I be brave? I'm afraid of something that literally doesn't exist! I can hardly go into a theater without getting antsy, much less go on stage and perform.”

“That's why it's brave, though,” Sweetie Belle said. She put her hoof on Silver's shoulder gently. “You're scared every time you go into a theater—no wonder you hate it so much! But how many times have you been in theaters since then? If your parents were willing to buy a theater, it must be tons!”

“Hundreds,” Silver Spoon said. Amazingly, Sweetie was not making her feel any better. “And I'm still afraid.”

“But you still go,” Sweetie pointed out. “Even though you're scared, you keep on going to plays with your parents, and you keep on going to the theater with them—would they make you? I mean, you've got a huge house here, if you really wanted I bet you could just stay home. And not only that, but you went into the back rooms!”

Silver turned back to Sweetie, jolting a bit when she realized how close she was to the other filly. Sweetie's face was only a few inches from her own. Silver lifted her hooves for a moment, but Sweetie took hold of them and continued.

“Those rooms were scary to me,” Sweetie said. “I can't even imagine for you... but then the Phantom showed up, and I was so scared I could hardly think, and you got me out of there! You're incredibly brave!”

Silver Spoon felt her face flushing. She fidgeted and looked away. “That's... that's not brave,” she said. “We had to get out of there, and all... and I just go to stuff because Mom and Daddy like it... it doesn't make me not scared...”

“I know,” Sweetie Belle said. She took hold of Silver's hoof, touching the bolts in it. “And... I'm afraid of The Phantom. This Phantom, in Bitmore. I'm really scared... I think more scared than I've ever been. And I've done a lot of scary things...” she giggled a bit and added, “Mostly stupid things. This is different. This is somepony who could hurt me... hurt us. Really bad. But... he could also hurt Rarity. When I thought about that, I thought of all the adventures Rarity's been on—big, real adventures with monsters and bad guys. And she told me that every adventure she went on, she was so scared, but she did it anyways, because she had to. I don't think being brave is about not being scared, Silver,” Sweetie said. She squeezed Silver’s hoof tighter, and Silver thought she noticed a hint of flush in Sweetie’s cheeks. “It sounds corny, but I think you're doing stuff because you care about your parents, even though you're scared. I think that's what brave is.”

“You're right,” Silver Spoon said. “That does sound corny. Like something out of an after school special.” In spite of what she said, though, she couldn't help but smile. She rubbed her nose and looked down at Sweetie's hoof in hers. She squeezed it a bit tighter. “You and your friends were always kinda hokey, but... well, thanks. I... kinda feel a bit better.”

Sweetie Belle smirked—surprising, from her—and opened her mouth to reply. She was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Wee Miss,” Kelson said as he stepped into the room. He had a tray on each of his wings. “Dinner is ready. Thought y’might like to eat while you play.”

Silver Spoon rubbed her face and smiled at him. “Thanks, Kelson,” she said. She took the tray that was handed to her and took the lid off, breathing deeply. It was potato soup, thick and rich. Perfect for a rainy night.

“It smells delicious!” Sweetie Belle said. “Thanks, Kelson!”

Kelson laughed. “Well, I’ll pass the compliment along to the cook,” he said. He paused for a moment and looked down at the box on the floor. He smirked. “I think the stallion only had a few bolts,” he commented.

Silver adjusted her glasses and gave a small grin. “Uh… yeah,” she said. She giggled. “Better safe than sorry?”

Kelson grinned and patted her mane. “Aye, well, true enough,” he said. “Can’t fault your spirit. Glad to see you feeling a bit better.” His eyes flicked to Sweetie, and Silver thought he smiled just a bit wider. “Amazing what good company does, aye?” He chuckled before Silver could answer, and said, “Well, I’ll leave you lasses to it. Cheers!”

When Kelson departed, Silver and Sweetie Belle were silent. The only sound was the opening credits of the film. After a moment Sweetie Belle broke the silence with a giggle, which evolved into a laugh.

“We don't have to watch this,” Sweetie said.

“That's okay,” Silver said. “You wanted to see it. And... well, I think I want to give it a shot at least.”

Sweetie Belle grinned, and the two settled back into the couch, blowing on their soup to cool it.

Silver thought about Sweetie for a long time. Not in the usual way she thought about Sweetie Belle, where she wondered what was going on in the filly's head, or thought about how dumb or naive whatever she was doing at the time was. She didn't wonder how Sweetie Belle had managed to make it this far without losing that strange, aggressive innocence. Instead she thought about all the things Sweetie Belle didn't do. More precisely, she thought about how Sweetie Belle hadn't made fun of her.

Why hadn't Sweetie Belle laughed at Silver? Sweetie had every right to. Silver had never exactly been nice to Sweetie; it was only fair that Sweetie get the chance to kick back, but she'd let it slip her by. Instead, she had actually comforted Silver. And complimented her!

She couldn't have secretly liked Silver; Sweetie had been just as disgusted at the idea of spending time with Silver as Silver had been yesterday. Yet not only had she stuck with her suggestion of calling a truce, but she had gone the extra mile to try and make peace.

Silver Spoon curled her haunches up against her chest as the credits finished and the movie began. Sweetie Belle was grinning like a maniac. She was every bit as happy and nice as she seemed, Silver realized. It seemed almost strange that it took her so long to realize. Maybe she'd been spending too much time with Diamond Tiara, and Silver was getting too used to acting nice instead of actually being nice. Maybe Sweetie Belle wasn't actually the dork Silver had thought.

“This is gonna be great!” Sweetie Belle said, leaning in to Silver. “You'll love this movie!”

Silver smirked. No, Sweetie Belle was definitely the dork she had thought. Maybe that wasn't actually a bad thing, though. She was a dork, but she was a nice dork. A dork who was sweet and supportive, and listened to what Silver had to say.

A dork with some good ideas, as well. The movie was hilarious. Silver Spoon laughed so often and so loudly that her ribs hurt. The two fillies laughed until they cried while they worked on the net, falling all over each other and winding up snuggled into the couch, shoulder pressed against shoulder. Silver Spoon had an enormous grin plastered across her face, and she wasn't quite sure if it was because of the movie, or because of Sweetie's warmth.

No cartoons without Sweetie, no movies without Sweetie, and no friends except Sweetie for the next three days. Somehow, to Silver, that didn't seem so bad anymore.

Chapter 3: Magical Lasso

Magical Lasso

“Flashlight?”

“Check.”

“Salt?”

“Check.”

“Net?”

“Check.”

“Iron?”

Sweetie Belle held up two loops of twine, each one with several bolts tied in it at rough, uneven intervals. “Check!” She said with a grin.

Silver Spoon smiled as she flipped her saddlebags shut. “Thanks,” she said, allowing Sweetie to loop one of the makeshift necklaces around her neck.

“Now all we need is a way to get out of here...” Sweetie Belle said. She kept her voice low as she scanned the room. They were behind the ticketing booths, in the theater's manager's office. It had been one of the first rooms renovated months ago, and it was already beginning to show small signs of being lived-in. Faint tobacco stains painted the ceiling above the large, mahogany desk near the back wall, and the cabinets along either wall had already been filled with ledgers. The desk itself was a clutter of papers, save only for a small clearing where Silver Spoon's father was currently resting his hooves.

He, his wife, and Kelson had all managed to pile into the small room with Sweetie and Silver. They had distracted themselves enough with the small details of the renovation that Silver and Sweetie had been able to discuss their plans freely, if under their breaths, but Sweetie Belle couldn't help but frown. So long as they were all there, she and Silver would be stuck in the room. With the Phantom doing who-knew-what, any moment stuck in the office was a moment she was reluctant to give up.

Silver, however, seemed unfazed by the setback. She leaned back in her chair and folded her forelegs. A smile flashed across her lips. “Don't worry about it,” she murmured. “I give it... five minutes. Two, if you follow my lead.” Then she took on an expression of profound, almost divine boredom. The very air around her seemed to turn grey and dull.

Rather than bored, it took a great amount of effort on Sweetie's part not to look impressed. She, too, however, folder her hooves and tried to mimic Silver's expression. She didn't think she had quite gotten it, but Silver's mouth twitched up in the faintest smile of approval.

The two had been holding their expressions for—Sweetie Belle counted—just shy of three minutes when Silver's father spoke up. “Kelson,” he said sourly, “I'm positive that you teaching her that trick is a flogging offense.”

“I'm sure I've no idea what’cher talkin' about,” Kelson said, barely stifling a laugh.

Silver Sunlight sighed and looked up from his papers. “Silver, dear,” he said, voice dry. “You seem bored.”

Silver Spoon shrugged and smiled. Her air of drabness drained away almost instantly. “A little,” she said. “Paperwork isn't really my idea of a good Saturday.”

Sunlight nodded. “Yes, I suppose not,” he said. From his sympathetic frowned, Sweetie Belle imagined he felt the same way. “Well, I don't mean to drag you into this, but there are too many ponies working today for you to be running around.”

“Didn't you bring a board game, dear?” Starling asked.

“I did,” Silver replied. “Boggle. But, well... I didn't want to bother you guys with the noise...”

A knowing nod rolled through the three adults. Sunlight hummed and rubbed his chin. “Well,” he said. “Well, well... I suppose some of the dressing rooms are free, and the power is working fine in them now. I don't suppose there's too much harm in letting you move to one of them... right dear?”

Starling looked obstinate in her displeasure, and Sweetie was afraid she would keep them there. Eventually, however, Starling's expression softened. “Alright,” she said. “I suppose I wouldn't want to be cooped up in an office when I could be playing with a friend either. But!” She added, pointing a hoof at each filly in turn, “I expect you to be on your best behavior. Which means you stay in the room. I don't want to find you two getting under hoof, or worse, in the back rooms again. Is that clear?”

“Yes, mom,” Silver said with a deferential nod.

Starling nodded as well. “Alright then,” she said. “You two can go. I'll swing by in a few hours to check on you and let you know when lunch is ready.”

“Okay,” Silver said as she got up from her chair. “Thanks, mom! We'll be fine.”

Sweetie Belle slid down to follow after Silver, but paused as Starling spoke up again.

“Sweetie, dear, could you wait for just a moment?”

Sweetie blinked. Silver Spoon looked over her shoulder at Sweetie, lingering for a moment, but Sweetie smiled. “Uh, you go ahead, Silver,” she said. “I'll be right behind you.”

Silver frowned faintly, her eyes flicking back and forth between Sweetie and Starling, but she smiled quickly. “Alright,” she said.

Silver left the room, letting the door swing shut behind her. Starling watched the door, waiting a few seconds, which she tapped out on the desk. “So, Sweetie Belle,” she said eventually. “How are you enjoying your weekend so far?”

“Huh?” Sweetie asked. “Um... it's been pretty good, I guess?”

“I'm glad to hear it... I was speaking with your older sister last night, and she mentioned you weren't initially looking forward to it.”

“Oh,” Sweetie winced. “Well, uh... I mean it's nothing against you guys, I was just looking forward to spending the long weekend with my friends, is all. But, uh, with Silver here—”

Starling cut Sweetie off with a raised hoof. “Your sister also mentioned that you and Silver don't normally get along very well.”

Starling's face was impassive, a stark contrast to Sweetie Belle's furiously beating heart. Her mind raced through awful option after awful option. Would Starling be mad at her for not liking Silver? Was Starling going to try and keep Sweetie there, to give her a reason not to spend time with Silver?

Starling took a deep breath. “I know that Silver isn't always the... most polite filly,” she admitted. “We're working on that. But she is a good filly, so... I just wanted to thank you for giving her a chance.”

Sweetie's heart skipped a beat, then did not quite seem to know how to respond. Sweetie Belle was staggered for a moment herself. “Um... um?” she squeaked.

Kelson laughed. “You mayn't have noticed,” he said, “but the Wee Miss doesn't have too many friends outside of wee Diamond. It does a pony good to know more ponies, is all.”

“We just wanted to thank you for giving her somepony to spend time with while we're here,” Starling said. “And for at least trying to be a friend for her. We could all hear her laughing last night. The point is, well...” Her poise failed her for a moment and she waved her hooves, floundering for the words. “Well... the point is, thank you for being a friend to her. I'm glad she's making another one, even—or maybe especially—if you're able to forgive some past unpleasantness for it.”

“Oh,” Sweetie said. She looked down and shuffled her hooves, thinking it over. It was strange to think, but she had almost forgotten that she and Silver didn't normally get along. For that matter, was it really Silver she didn't get along with? She'd never seen the filly without Diamond Tiara by her side, and now that Sweetie thought of it Silver had always just seemed... there. “Well, uh... thanks? Um...” she laughed quietly, and rubbed her foreleg. “I mean... I guess it was sorta Silver's idea to try getting along in the first place, so it's not really... like I did anything.” She probably would have been spiritedly avoiding Silver if Silver hadn't suggested a truce in the first place.

“Still,” Starling said with a smile, “it takes a big pony to go along with it. And I'm glad you did. But, I won't keep you two apart for too long, I just wanted to say thank you.”

Sweetie smiled bashfully up at the mare, and made for the door. “It was, um, really no problem,” she said. She slipped out quickly, pausing just outside the door. Truth be told, she wasn't quite certain how to take what had just happened. A part of her had always expected that Silver's parents didn't pay attention to her enough to notice what she did... or just didn't care. Did they know how their daughter acted?

Did Sweetie?

A deep frown spread across Sweetie Belle's face. A guilty trembling roiled in her belly as she thought back over all her memories of Silver. Silver was definitely mean. There was no denying that. She had made fun of Scootaloo's inability to fly, of all their blank flanks, she had even taken the time to personally rib on Sweetie Belle's mane, of all things. No, Silver could definitely be a jerk when she wanted to. Yet, here they were.

Sweetie Belle shook her head, chasing the thoughts away. She didn't have time to sit around thinking all day. Whatever else Silver might have been, right now she was waiting for Sweetie. For that matter, so was The Phantom.

Sweetie Belle trotted quickly through the theater. There were quite a few more workers today, carting in plush fold-down chairs to replace the burnt upholstery in the auditorium and carting cans of paint up the still-charred columns. She weaved a path through them, barely noticed in the hustle and bustle, and quickly found herself back in front of the dressing rooms. Her mind, however, had decided to linger somewhere back by the ticketing booths. She knocked on the door.

There was a pause, and the silence from within the room became an almost tangible awkwardness. From inside, there was a muffled call of, “Come in?”

Sweetie Belle's attention caught up with her, and she grimaced as she opened the door.

Silver Spoon sat in the middle of the room, saddlebags placed neatly against the vanity desk and a small game box in front of her. She was staring up at Sweetie, a single eyebrow cocked in confusion. “Why did you knock?” she asked.

“Er...” Sweetie said. She looked back and forth. “W-well, you could have been doing anything in here!” she defended herself, raising her head into what she hoped was the picture of pride.

Silver Spoon clearly wasn't buying it. “Like what?” she asked, but she barely waited for Sweetie to flounder before a smile spread across her face. “Oh, never mind, just come in and sit down.” She waved a hoof to Sweetie, beckoning her closer.

Sweetie sat across from Silver and looked down at the box. “What's this?” she asked.

“It's Boggle,” Silver said simply.

“Ooooh,” Sweetie said. “Right! You stashed the stuff in there so your parents wouldn't see it and get suspicious? What'd you bring?”

Silver blinked. She adjusted her glasses and lifted the top off the box, revealing its contents for all present.

“It's Boggle,” she said.

It was, indeed, Boggle.

“... Boggle?” Sweetie Belle asked. “That's it?”

“I like Boggle!” Silver Spoon said defensively. “Anyways, we didn't have much else at the house.”

“W—I mean, I like Boggle too,” Sweetie Belle said, looking between the game set and Silver Spoon. “But what about The Phantom? We can't just sit around all day and play games!”

“Well, we're not gonna play it all day, obviously,” Silver Spoon said. She had begun to unpack the box. “Just until my mom comes to check on us, then we can go. I just don't want her to see us gone and find out we've snuck back into the back rooms.”

“She said she was gonna check on us in a few hours, though,” Sweetie Belle said. She hunkered down, staring hard at the Boggle set. “That's plenty of time to catch The Phantom.”

“Maybe,” Silver Spoon said. “If she were actually coming to check on us in a few hours. In a few minutes she'll come, having 'forgotten' something she wanted to ask us. Then she'll be back in a few hours to check again. Do you really think your parents will do exactly what they say they will?”

Sweetie leaned back and frowned. It was her turn to be defensive. “Yeah, well,” she said with a huff, “I don't give them any reason not to trust me!”

Silver simply stared at Sweetie. Sweetie stared back, defiant for a while, but it wasn't long before she faltered. “W-well,” she squeaked, “most of the time, anyways...”

Silver smirked and shook her head. “Well, anyways,” she said, “whether or not I deserve it—and lets be honest, I kinda do—my mom is gonna show up soon to double-check on us, so we've got some time to kill.”

“And you wanted to spend it playing Boggle?” Sweetie asked. Silver Spoon scrunched her nose, preparing for another defense, or perhaps just a simple snark, but Sweetie Belle raised her hooves before Silver could launch into it. “Uh, which is fine!” Sweetie Belle said with a squeak. “I mean, I just didn't think that Boggle would be your kinda game...”

Not that Sweetie would know, she supposed. She would have found it hard to imagine Silver playing games at all, if she had ever cared to try. Certainly not a word game. Silver had usually seemed content to let Diamond Tiara do most of the talking, only ever echoing the other filly's sentiments or adding an extra jab—and it was almost always a jab—on top of it.

“But,” Sweetie said, rubbing her face in the hopes of staving off an ashamed blush, “It sounds like you must really like it? I mean, if you manage to make Boggle loud...”

Silver hesitated for a moment, still on the edge of launching into an argument. She tottered back and forth as though on a precipice and unable to decide which way to fall, before coughing and adjusting her glasses. “Oh. Well, it's not really me who gets loud. That just kind of happens when you play with two sailors, and a mare who wants to make sure her daughter doesn't pick up on any of their vocabulary. It started with arguments over what was and wasn't acceptable for a little filly. Now...” her eyes took on a distant quality as she laughed, playing with one of the lettered dice. “Arguing over whether or not a word counts is just part of the game for us. I'll try to keep it to a minimum with you, though.”

Sweetie felt a grin spread across her face as she watched Silver fidget. “Hey, I think I can keep up,” she said. “You know, Scootaloo once compared me to a dictionary!”

“Yeah, well,” Silver said offhandedly, “Scootaloo isn't exactly the best—” She stopped dead. “U-uh,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “I mean, I...” She glanced at Sweetie, then at the floor, adjusting her glasses once more.

Sweetie watched her for a minute, not sure if her smile should fade or grow. “You were gonna say that Scootaloo wouldn't know much about words herself, weren't you?” she asked finally.

Silver Spoon winced, staring at her hooves. “Sorry,” she said. “It just slipped out... I guess... it was a force of habit. Ugh, that sounds even worse. I'm sorry.”

For a moment Sweetie's smile did fade. Still unsure what exactly it should do, her mouth flitted between a half-frown, a smirk, and finally a small, guilty smile. “Well...” she said, covering the offending smile, “you're not wrong...” she giggled and patted her cheek. “But it's mean to say! Scootaloo is a good friend, she just isn't interested in reading much.”

“I know,” Silver said, rubbing her leg. “I'm sorry.”

Sweetie giggled again. “You don't have to apologize to me,” she said. “I'm not the one you insulted.” Sweetie was the one who was here, however, and the one who Silver had extended an olive branch to. The thought struck her suddenly, her mood shifting like the winds. As much as she didn't know what Silver liked, or thought, there was no way she could know why Silver had chosen to be nice to her and her alone. “Why didn't you?” she asked.

Silver made a noise like a small animal being stepped on very hard. “Whu, uh, what?” she choked out, pushing her glass back up her face.

“Why didn't you insult me?” Sweetie Belle asked. “Why did you offer a truce in the first place? Was it really just so you wouldn't get in trouble?”

“I, uh...” Silver stammered. She looked around the room as though searching for an escape route, and clutched at her forelegs. Eventually her shoulders went slack, and she took on a defeated air.

“At... first, yeah,” she admitted. “It just seemed like too much trouble to fight all weekend, you know? But it isn't really about that, anymore. I think what you said last night, it really hit me. About being nice. 'For Once'.”

Sweetie blinked. “For once?” she asked. “You mean, you wanted to start being nice?”

Silver grunted and leaned further back. “No,” she said. “I mean, kinda? But like... do you think you're a jerk?”

“No?” Sweetie said, jolting back as though the words had physically struck her. Two days ago she would have walked away from this conversation. Even if they had been stuck in the same building she'd have found some way out. Now, though, she watched Silver. Something about the filly was different than Sweetie remembered. Perhaps it was just familiarity, but eyes that had previously been shrewd and judging looked thoughtful, a bored pose looked more contemplative. The effect was captivating.

“Well, I did,” Silver said. “Not me, I mean. I thought you were a jerk.”

“What?” Sweetie balked. “What—how could you think that?”

“Because the first time we met you told me you thought my talent was pointless,” Silver replied matter-of-factly. The sheer confidence of it struck Sweetie into a stunned silence. Silver continued.

“And after that, everything was... Kelson told me a bedtime story once, about a fisherpony and a shark. The shark ate one of the fisherpony's hooves, so the fisherpony became a ship captain and hunted the shark down. But the shark was big and strong, so whenever the fisherpony hurt the shark, the shark hurt the fisherpony back, and ran away. The story ended when the fisherpony and the shark killed one another.” She paused for a moment and added, “His stories got a lot tamer after that. I think Mom talked to him, or something.” She shook her head and adjusted her glasses. “Anyways, the point is, I didn't get it at the time, but the shark wasn't a shark. It was another pony.

“'Cause, see, the shark didn't know it had hurt the pony. It was just responding when it had been hurt. It wasn't trying to get like, revenge or justice or anything, it was just responding. And I guess the reason I was always such a jerk to you was, I was like the shark. I didn't... get that I'd been a jerk to you first. So every time you did something back to me—even just defending yourself—it always felt like you were being the jerk. I didn't really think... or maybe I just didn't care that I was hurting you back. I think I'd been sort of been realizing it for a while, but you saying that made me realize that I was doing the same thing.” She hunkered down. “Maybe I even started it. So I guess I thought I'd give you more of a chance, maybe?” She sighed and leaned back, shrugging. “I dunno. Maybe I just wanted to feel better about myself. It's dumb. The point is, I'm sorry for being such a jerk.”

Sweetie started at her hooves. Silver really thought Sweetie was the jerk? Was she wrong? Sweetie hadn't given much thought to how Silver thought either, and now that she thought about it she'd probably done her share of mean things. “... Me too,” she said softly. “I had no idea you felt that way.”

“Yeah, well,” Silver said with a shrug. Her tone was rough and dull. She looked away. “I don't think you have much to be sorry about. I kinda went out of my way. I don't think you did.”

“That doesn't matter,” Sweetie said with a sharpness that surprised even her. Silver's eyebrows rose, and she peered sidelong at Sweetie. “It doesn't matter which one of us was worse,” Sweetie continued. “ I'm sorry for being a jerk at all.” She set her jaw stubbornly and folded her hooves. “I'm sorry I hurt your feelings.”

Silver turned her head back to Sweetie, staring at her for a long, silent moment. A smile crept across her face, cracking into a grin. Silver began to laugh.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Apology accepted... if you accept mine for being lousy to you.”

Sweetie Belle smiled as well and looked at her hooves. She giggled softly. “Okay, I accept your apology,” she said. “But I think maybe you're a lot nicer than ponies give you credit for. Especially me. I mean, I was ready for you to just make fun of me all weekend, but you're the one who wanted a truce. I wouldn't have suggested it.” She managed to look up at Silver long enough to flash her a grin, and added, “So maybe you're not as lousy as all that.”

Silver turned to look away again, fumbling with her glasses. “U-uh, well,” she stammered. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish, if that fish were an awkward girl-fish looking for the right words to say. Her search was interrupted, however, by a sharp knock on the door.

Starling peeked through the door, smiling innocently and fixing her eyes on Silver. “Ah, Silver dear!” she said. “I'm glad I found you here.”

Silver, not one to miss an opportunity, quickly fixed her glasses and sat up straighter. “Hey, Mom,” she said, just a touch too quickly. “What's up?”

“Oh, your father and I were just talking before we came in today,” Starling said, waving a hoof. “We thought we might order in some pizza tonight to celebrate the theater being finished. I just realized, I had forgotten to ask you what toppings you'd like on your pizza?”

“Oh,” Silver said. “Um, just mushrooms for me, I guess.”

“Alright,” Starling said with a smile. Turning to Sweetie she asked, “And you, dear?”

It took Sweetie Belle a moment to realize that Starling was talking to her. “Huh?” she asked when she did. “Me?”

“Of course, Sweetie,” Starling said. “You're still our guest tonight. It would hardly be polite of us to not include you and your sister for dinner. Now, what would you like on your pizza?”

“Oh, wow,” Sweetie said. “Um... would just extra cheese be okay?”

Starling chuckled. “I think we can manage that, yes. Thank you, dear, I'll put you down for that.” She looked back and forth between the two fillies for a moment. A slow, warm smile crept across her face, and she nodded. “Well,” she said, “I can see you two girls are busy with your game, so I'll let you get back to it. Just try not to let it get too rowdy.”

Silver ducked her head and flushed just enough to be noticeable. “Yes, Mom,” she said. Starling chuckled and quietly closed the door behind her. Silver waited for a few moments after she left, just long enough that Sweetie realized she was counting out seconds, before turning back to Sweetie. “Told you,” she said.

Sweetie giggled. “I guess so,” she replied. “But I think she must have been telling the truth, kinda. I mean, buying pizza for everypony is a big length to go to just to check in on us...”

Silver tilted her head, staring at Sweetie with an expression that was one part expectant, and one part bemused. Sweetie stared back. It took her several seconds longer than she would admit to realize they were sitting in a building that Silver's parents had bought and refurbished.

“...Oh,” Sweetie Belle said. She tried to giggle, but only managed an embarrassed squeak. “Uh... well, it's still really generous of her.”

Silver rolled her eyes, but she smiled. “I guess so.” Her smile faded as she looked down at the Boggle set. She sighed, and got to her hooves. “We should probably head to the back rooms, now...” she said. Her voice had lost a luster Sweetie only now that it was gone, replaced by a familiar dull dryness.

The halls were almost barren, most of the workers being focused on finishing the main theater. With only one more day until the fashion show Sweetie Belle, Silver Spoon and The Phantom were far from the only ponies feeling the pressure. Sweetie and Silver encountered only a single soul on their way to the back rooms, and he had no time to spare for two little fillies. He was so obviously engrossed in his work that Silver opened the door to the back rooms with him still in plain view.

Sweetie slipped quickly inside, taking care this time to stop well short of the pile of boxes. She heard the click of the door closing behind her, and Silver chuckling.

“They're not going to bite you,” Silver said with a smirk.

Sweetie laughed weakly and wiggled her nose. “Well, they... sort of did last time.”

Silver paused for a moment, then smirked wider. “I think you bit them as much as they bit you,” she said. She chuckled again, as much to herself as anypony else, as she produced a small watch from her saddlebags.

“Alright,” Silver said. He smirk faded noticeably, replaced by a faint, worried downturn at the corners of her mouth. “We have about two hours until lunchtime. That'll probably be when my mom checks on us again. We should get back before then, which gives us about... an hour and 45 minutes to take down The Phantom.” She peered into the gloom of the back rooms. It was difficult to tell in the poor light, but Sweetie Belle thought Silver's face had taken on a pallor. “Y-you know,” Silver said as she tucked the watch away, “It's still not too late to tell somepony about all this, try and get a grown-up to handle it...”

Sweetie watched her for a while. It was almost funny how she could act so well some times, and have so little poker face others. “Are you scared?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“No, I...” Silver said. She rubbed her grip on her foreleg and stammered wordlessly, looking around the room. “I mean... yeah. I'm scared. It's... well, it's The Phantom. Maybe it isn't The Phantom of the Opera, but it's still a Phantom, and it's real. I'm scared. Aren't... you? I mean, you don't seriously want to go back there and run up against some... ghost, or freak in a mask, do you? Can't we find some other way?”

Sweetie shook her head. “No,” she said. It would be a terrible lie to say that she wanted to face down The Phantom. Even now, this far from him, her heart thumped in her chest. They had to, though. Nopony else could. She breathed deep and repeated the words, as much to herself as to Silver. “We need to face The Phantom. Nopony else can do it.” Sweetie Belle wrapped a hoof around Silver's. Sweetie's heart was already pounding in her chest, making her face hot and her stomach do tricks, but Silver was obviously fighting even harder. She wanted to be sick, but Sweetie managed to speak with confidence. “But that's okay. We can do this. I believe in us. I believe in you. If it weren't for you, I don't think I could do this.” She smiled wide at Silver. “I always thought you were just... Diamond's goon. I thought you just did whatever she wanted, said whatever she said... that you weren't even brave enough to make fun of us on your own, and you were just hiding behind her so you wouldn't be in front of her. But I don't think that's true, not anymore. I think... you don't always show it, but I think you care a lot. I think that even when you're scared, you still know what the right thing to do is. Even if you don't always do it right, I think you're a lot braver, and smarter than you let ponies see. And... I know that's hard. But the more scared you are, that just means the more brave you are. And seeing you be so much braver than I thought, makes me feel braver too.”

Sweetie Belle beamed. Once the words had started she had been unable to stop, as though the words were coming out of their own accord. Ever word of it was true, though, and each one brought a little bit of warmth to her heart. She stood up straighter, almost as tall as Silver's slouching form, and gripped Silver's hoof tighter. Sweetie hoped the filly had taken her words to heart. “I'm glad you wanted a truce, Silver,” she said. “I'm glad I know you for real, now.”

Silver stared at her hoof, her face awash with sickness and fear. “I sure don't feel brave,” she mumbled to herself. “But... thank you. Okay. I guess... I can do this.” She breathed deep and gave a weak smile. “Let's go beat that psycho.”

In spite of the pep-talk, their progress was slow. Clouds from last night's storm had lingered, hiding the sun and making the already weak light of the prop rooms darker still. The light of Silver's flashlight marked their path, but everything outside of the narrow beam was twisted by the dark and Sweetie's anxiety. Piles of boxes became looming ogres, coats appeared as figures creeping just around the corner. The smallest discarded prop or costume became a trap waiting to ensnare their hooves, forcing the two fillies to walk slowly. At the very least, Sweetie Belle reasoned with herself, their slow pace gave her the time to focus on the encounter ahead. It was certainly preferable to the alternative of focusing on the horrors of the prop rooms.

Not for the first time that weekend, Sweetie Belle wished that Scootaloo and Apple Bloom were there with her. They might not have made things easier—in fact she was almost certain Scootaloo would have made things harder—but at least she wouldn't have had to worry about courage if she was just following Scootaloo as she rushed in.

Should they attack The Phantom head-on, as Scootaloo would have? Sweetie Belle rejected the idea out of hand. Running in shouting, attacking directly, would only give The Phantom time to prepare. They had a weapon now, but they needed to get close to use it and The Phantom could fly. That made surprise their best option. As long as sneaking up on a Phantom was even possible.

The thought crept into her gut, twisting it into a knot. Who was to say that The Phantom wasn't watching them, even now? In this gloom there would be no way to spot the black-clad figure if it didn't want to be seen. If it truly was a ghost, it might not even need to leave its nest to watch them. Sweetie Belle could feel the floorboards pulsing with a gentle rhythm. It was the beating of that great brass heart, the snarl of pipes and valves in the furthest back of the theater. Sweetie Belle peered over at Silver. The filly was almost constantly adjusting her glasses, ears pinned back tight against her head. And unhealthy pallor had come over her face some time during their journey. Sweetie Belle decided not to trouble her with the notion.

It made no difference. They had arrived.

The door to the back room stood open before them like some great, gaping maw. The darkness beyond was thick and black as pitch. It threatened to swallow them whole, and the crossing of the threshold sent a chill down Sweetie's spine. Was the room beyond truly that much colder, or was it just her? Or perhaps the oppressive atmosphere, the stifling shadow, was a side-effect of The Phantom's residence?

Silver slowed to a stop, followed shortly after by Sweetie. After a moment Sweetie shuffled closer to Silver, acutely aware that The Phantom could be anywhere in the darkness. “Why are we stopping?” Sweetie asked.

“Well,” Silver said, bobbing her head back and forth, “I wanted to try putting the net up over the door. So that The Phantom can’t run away through it.” She reached into her saddlebag and produced their makeshift net, unfolding it across the dusty floorboards.

In spite of her twisting gut, Sweetie couldn't help but grin at their creation. It was slapshod at best, with some holes too large and others barely there. The twine had been stretched to its limit and had already begun to fray in some places—something that the sharp metal of the bolts they had woven in, so haphazardly as to be at random, certainly didn't help. It was in many ways an affront to the noble art of ghost-net-weaving. Still, she had made it together with Silver. Sweetie remembered something that Rarity had told her once: a pony could weave what they were feeling into something they made, and that made it a little bit magic. As far as Sweetie was concerned, this was their magic net, and it was what would save the theater.

Together they tossed the net up over the doorframe, catching the nuts on the corners to hold it in place, and turned to face the darkness. It stared them down, but with their net at her back—and the more she thought of it, Silver at her side—Sweetie Belle felt like she could stare right back. “We should... turn out the flashlight,” she said. “So The Phantom doesn't see us coming.”

“Are you sure?” Silver asked, looking between her and the flashlight. She tutted, and frowned. “Yeah... I guess you're probably right.” Silver sighed and switched off the flashlight.

The darkness closed in around them, and for a brief moment Sweetie felt her heart clutch, afraid that it would swallow them whole. It did not surround them entirely, though. In the distance, glinting off the snaking pipes and biting through the murk was the soft, warm glow of candlelight. With all other sight gone, all other sense dulled, Sweetie could hear the soft, deep echoing of the pipes. To her surprise it was accompanied by another, higher pinging sound, just out of time.

The nest of pipes grew clearer as they approached, as did the pinging sound. Sweetie Belle realized that it was the sound of something striking the pipes. Something small and hard and regular, as though it was bouncing off and back again. The candlelight flickered faintly, interrupted in time with the pinging.

They were no more than a half-dozen meters from the nest when it finally struck Sweetie: The Phantom was home. Her breath caught in her throat, saving her from crying out in shock. They were a stone's throw away from the being they had come here to confront, and the idea—all its risks and dangers, everything that could possibly follow—became much, much more real.

She swallowed hard and forced herself to calm down as much as she could. If her heart beat much harder she was certain The Phantom would hear them. She listened carefully. The beat was irregular, like somepony tapping their hooves. The shadows gave the idea credence, casting the figure of a pony beating his hoof against the pipes. It was almost as though The Phantom was... bored? Sweetie Belle's face screwed up. What kind of Phantom—one who had proclaimed his intent to destroy a fashion show in a day and a half's time, at that—would be sitting around bored? She turned back to look at Silver.

The fear had washed away from Silver's face, replaced by a strange, furrowed set of the eyebrows that Sweetie Belle could not decipher. With a sharp deliberateness Silver produced the container of salt and, still staring dead at the nest of pipes, held it out for Sweetie Belle. Sweetie took it without a word.

She crept closer to the nest, holding the salt in her hooves so her magic didn't alert The Phantom, and peeked through a gap. Sure enough, The Phantom was everything he had seemed to be: the very picture of boredom. He sat with his cloak pulled up and bundled behind his head, tapping his back hoof arrhythmically against the pipes. Beneath his mask he wore an expression that almost resembled a pout.

The sheer absurdity of it all struck Sweetie Belle as almost comical, but laughing was the furthest thing from her mind. She unscrewed the cap of the salt as quietly as she could, and reared up behind The Phantom.

“Go away!” Sweetie Belle screamed. She shook the salt violently. It hit The Phantom in a wave, washing over the cloaked figure and piling into hills and gullies in and instant. The Phantom screamed and spluttered, jerking violently to life. Sweetie Belle laughed and continued to shake as The Phantom flailed, tangled in his cloak and swearing violently. It was working!

The Phantom rolled out of the nest, falling to the floor with a loud thud, and scrabbled to his hooves. “What the hell!?” He demanded. “What are you—are you throwing salt?”

Sweetie Belle's shaking slowed to a halt. “Er... yes?” she replied. She wondered why The Phantom was still... there. If Kelson had been right, shouldn't he be gone by now?

“Who throws salt?” The Phantom shouted, sneering at Sweetie Belle from across the pipes. “What, are you gonna make me so thirsty I curl up and die? Hoping I'll shrivel up like a slug?”

“Wh... w-well,” Sweetie stammered, staring at the tin of salt in her hooves. “I... I thought... you were a ghost, so, I, uh...” Of all the situations she had imagined, The Phantom chastising her was not among them. He must be planning to attack, to take flight, to do anything. So why wasn't he? Purely to berate Sweetie?

Out of the corner of her eye, Sweetie could see Silver. She wore an expression of pure panic. Her glasses sat forgotten, perched on the tip of her nose. She was digging madly through the saddlebags.

“W-well,” Sweetie Belle said, turning back to The Phantom, “Wh-who threatens to burn down a theater!? Over a fashion show?” She started to shimmy around the nest, forcing The Phantom to turn away from Silver.

“Fash—” The Phantom, sneering at Sweetie through the mask. “Fashion show? What are you—” The Phantom's question ended in the crash and clatter as a hoofful of bolts cascaded around his head. Both Phantom and Sweetie turned to face Silver, who was readying another hoofful. She finally pushed her glasses up, framing the glint of profound, horrified fury in her eyes.

“G-get out of here!” she yelled, tossing another volley. “This isn't—I won't let you burn down my parents’ theater! I won't... let you keep lurking back here!” As she spoke her voice grew stronger and stronger. She gathered another hoofful. “So get out of here! Leave me—us, alone!”

Before Silver could throw the bolts again, The Phantom shook violently. For a moment he became tiny, a snarled mass of black fabric, and then exploded. His cloak billowed in a storm of darkness, and The Phantom took flight.

“FOOLS!” The Phantom bellowed, alighting on a high pipe. “YOU DARE? TO COME INTO MY HOME, TO ASSAULT ME WITH YOUR PETTY JOKES, AND THEN TO INSULT ME? YOU DARE TO IMPLY I AM NOT WITHIN MY RIGHT? THIS PLACE IS MINE! MY THEATER, MY LEGACY, MINE TO DO WITH AS I WISH!” He swept a long, shrouded hoof over the room, barely visible in the darkness, and jeered at them. “NO PETTY 'FASHIONISTAS' OR FOOLISH RICH PONIES CAN TAKE IT FROM ME! THEY DO NOT HAVE MY PERMISSION! BEGONE FROM THIS PLACE, AND TAKE YOUR SMALL IDEAS WITH YOU!” He leaped from the pipe, flying low over the floor directly at Silver. She only barely dove out of the way, smashing her shoulder and crying out in pain.

“Silver!” Sweetie cried out. She lunged through the nest, scrambling awkwardly over the ancient cushions to reach the other filly. “Are you alright?”

“NEITHER OF YOU WILL LEAVE HERE IN ONE PIECE!” The Phantom roared. He sailed into the air once more, diving at Sweetie Belle. She was faster than Silver though, more prepared, and she dashed under a nearby pipe. The Phantom pulled up and veered away while Sweetie Belle called out to Silver again.

“Silver? Are you okay?” she asked.

Silver gasped and shuddered. “I'm fine!” she said, but her voice was trembling. Her eyes darted around the room. “Where's The Phantom?”

Sweetie turned her eyes to the sky. There was nothing but darkness as far as she could see until a quick, barely-there flash of white streaked across her view. “There!” she shouted. “Look out!” she grabbed Silver by the shoulders and yanked her down just in time. The Phantom sailed through the air where Silver had been, laughing maniacally.

Silver yelped, crawling under the pipe. Her breath was ragged and she could barely speak, but she managed a curse. “W-we have... have to get out of here,” she stammered. She was shaking violently. “The salt didn't work. The iron didn't work. We can't fight him!”.

Sweetie looked out from under the pipe again. She couldn't see any sign of the Phantom, but he could be anywhere. Silver was right, they needed to get away. “Alright,” she said, her voice hushed. “Alright. You can see the door, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Silver stammered, adjusting her glasses.

“Okay,” Sweetie Belle said. She reached out, taking Silver's hooves in her own. “We're gonna run, okay? We gonna get out from under here, and run as fast as we can for the door. And I'm gonna use my magic to lift up the net, and we'll just run right under, okay?”

Silver swallowed hard and nodded. “Right,” she said. “Okay. Okay.”

Sweetie peeked her head out first. She could hear the distant laughter of The Phantom echoing across the pipes, but he was nowhere to be seen. “Alright,” Sweetie said. “Run!”

Silver Spoon slid out from the under the pipes, struggling to get to her hooves with a bad shoulder. She had only managed to make it to upright when the sound of The Phantom's laughter changed, becoming more clear. He had rounded for another pass.

His mask appeared out of the darkness, a sadistic grin stretching across his face like a scar, and he snatched Silver off of her knees. He dragged her into the center of the room and dropped her, rising into the air for another swoop.

Silver scrambled to her hooves as The Phantom rounded on her once more. Again and again she tried to run, but the Phantom cut her off each time, constantly keeping her off-balance. Silver grit her teeth and shouted, “I-I'm not... I'm not afraid of you!” The Phantom simply laughed.

Sweetie Belle's heart turned was ice. There had to be something she could do, some way to distract The Phantom long enough for Silver to get away. If they could just make it to the door they would be safe. Even if The Phantom wasn't really a ghost, if iron or salt couldn't stop him, then at least the net would slow him down.

All thought left Sweetie save for one: the net!

Sweetie cursed her denseness for as she leaped out from under the pipe. She forced herself to look away from Silver, to ignore the filly's plight, and bolt for the door at a dead run. Behind her, she could hear The Phantom calling out.

“RUNNING?” The Phantom jeered. “RUNNING WHERE? THIS IS MY THEATER, FILLY! I WON'T LET YOU LEAVE!” His laugh was an evil, ugly cackle that chilled Sweetie to the bone, but she ignored it. She could hear him coming for her, sailing after her through the blackness. She could hear the panicked clopping of Silver taking the opportunity to bolt. Sweetie chanced a glanced over her shoulder and saw the Phantom rise and swoop violently, knocking Silver to the floor in his flight and sending the filly skidding across the dusty floor. Through ragged breaths Sweetie Belle growled. She was almost at the door now. A green glow enveloped the net.

“Hey!” she shouted as she screeched to a halt. She barely had time to stop before she launched into a dead bolt again, this time straight for the Phantom. She pumped her legs as hard as she could, running faster than she had ever run before. The Phantom paused his flight, confusion flashing across his face.

“What?” He said. He hung in the air, staring dumbly at the charging filly.

“Don't hurt her!” Sweetie screamed, leaping over Silver. She hurled the net as hard as she could, striking the Phantom full In the face and chest. The weight of it dragged him to the ground, and he cried out in shock.

“Wh-what!?” The Phantom yelled, scrabbling at the net. “Don't—get away! GET BACK! FOOL!” He dragged himself into the darkness, screaming obscenities and threats, but Sweetie didn't care. She dragged Silver to her hooves.

“Run!” she shouted.

Silver was more than happy to oblige. The pair ran as fast as their legs would carry them out of the back and through the prop rooms. They barely had the presence of mind to slow down before they exited into the halls. It was not until they were back in the dressing room that Sweetie Belle finally allowed herself a moment to breathe. It was a panting, wheezing breath, but a breath just the same. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she felt like she would be sick from all the running, but she was safe. They were safe. She turned to Silver and threw her hooves around the filly.

“Whoah!” Silver jolted violently. “Jeez, warn a filly before you do that,” she said. She was tense, but Sweetie could feel that tenseness melting away. After a moment Silver breathed a long sigh and returned Sweetie's hug. “Are you okay?” she asked.

“I think so, yeah,” Sweetie said, letting out a sigh of her own. “Still a little scared, but I'm okay. What about you? Is your shoulder okay?”

Silver laughed weakly. She left the hug, hesitating for just a moment, and rubbed her shoulder. “Yeah, I'm fine. I'm sore, but nothing's broken. I don't think I'll even bruise... thanks. You really saved my butt back there.”

Sweetie Belle wheezed a laugh and ducked her head. “Aw, not really,” she said, although she couldn't help but grin.

“Yeah, really!” Silver insisted. “That j... jerk of a Phantom wouldn't have let me go anywhere... I'd probably still be stuck back there with him if it weren't for you. You were pretty awesome with that net.” She looked down, and squeezed her shoulder tighter.

For a long time she was still, her mouth open as though she was constantly about to speak. Silence reigned in the dressing room. Sweetie's adrenaline subsided and her heart slowed, but the heavy pumping had only been replaced by a lingering anxiety as she watched Silver struggle with the words. She was beginning to feel frightened for Silver, worried that the horror had not yet left her, when a small groan gave signal that Silver had finally found her words.

“I always knew,” Silver said, adjusting her glasses, “that you were a lot... different, than you seemed. I mean... I knew that you were smart, a lot smarter than everypony else thought. I never thought of you as being brave, though. Definitely not brave enough to help me like that.”

The tightness in Sweetie's heart vanished in an instant, but she faltered. She ran the sentence over in her head once again. Then a third time. “Th... thanks? I think?” she said, still uncertain whether or not it was supposed to be a compliment. Ultimately she decided that it made her happier than the majority of things that Silver had ever said to her, so that was close enough.

“Urgh,” Silver said, pushing her glasses back up her muzzle. “I know that sounds really lousy. I'm not, uh, very good at being nice, I guess...”

Sweetie could feel what remained of her fear evaporating as he looked on Silver's expression, a strange mix of guilt and exasperation. She couldn't help but giggle; it was strangely comic. “It's okay,” Sweetie said. “I think I understand what you mean. I guess I'm not really surprised, either.” If anything, she was as surprised as Silver by her new found courage. It had been a long time since she had done anything even remotely frightening, and she had acted more on instinct than actual conscious thought. She had simply seen Silver in trouble. “Actually, I'm kinda surprised that you thought I was smart, before.”

Exasperation took the lead in the battle for Silver's expression. “Great, that makes it sounds better,” she grumbled. She sighed. “I was really lousy to you, huh?”

“You were,” Sweetie agreed, but held up a hoof as Silver's expression turned yet more sour. “But it's not like I was a lot better... I didn't think a lot of nice thoughts about you before. If you were the shark, then I was the fisherpony. Offering a truce was the last thing I expected you to do, though. So I guess we both learned something about each other, right?” She smiled warmly.

Silver blinked, but smiled back. It was a slow smile, eventually building into a wide grin. “I guess so,” she said. “I'm glad... that we did. I'm glad I got to know you a little better.”

Sweetie grinned back. “Me too,” she said. “I'm just sad we didn't do it sooner. Just think, all this time we could have been getting along.” She thought about what Kelson had told her. Maybe if Silver had had more friends a lot of things would have been different. She opened her hooves. “Friends?”

For just a moment, far too quick for Sweetie to see, Silver's look of exasperation washed away and left behind only guilt and a profound, wounded sadness. She recovered quickly, though, and nearly threw herself into Sweetie Belle's hug. “Friends,” she repeated. They held one another for a long time. Silver's warmth washed through Sweetie Belle, chasing away the lingering shadows. Sweetie sighed happily. She felt safe with Silver. She felt good.

A quick, sharp knock sounded on the door, and Starling peered through. “It's time for lunch, fill—oh!” she paused, looking back and forth between Silver and Sweetie. “I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Silver coughed awkwardly as Sweetie let her go, adjusting her glasses. “Uh, no, Mom,” she said. “We were just talking, and uh...”

“Being friendly,” Sweetie Belle offered. She couldn't help but notice a flush to Silver's cheeks that made her smile. For that matter, her own face felt warm.

“Right!” Silver said, pointing to Sweetie and flashing an awkward grin. “Being friendly.”

“Is that so?” Starling asked, nodding slowly. She sounded unconvinced, and Sweetie Belle could feel her appraising eyes, but Starling only smiled wider. “Well,” she said, “I only wanted to let you two fillies know that lunch is ready. You can come get it whenever you like.” Somehow, her smile managed to grow wider still. “But don't rush yourselves.”

She left the fillies alone, laughing to herself and saying something about a second one of something. Silver smiled bashfully, rubbing at her cheeks. Sweetie was close to losing herself in a fit of giggles. The fear of The Phantom was gone, for now. In the furthest back parts of her mind Sweetie knew that they would have to confront what they learned today, to use it and plan for their next encounter with The Phantom. Time was running out and it was abundantly clear—net aside—that their methods so far were insufficient. For now, though, there was food, and there was family, and there were friends.

Chapter 4: Toe to Toe

Toe to Toe

It is a common misconception that the rich eat richly. If the average pony were asked to imagine the diet of the very wealthy, they might imagine things like caviar, or white asparagus. The rich could feast upon any number of rare things so far as common pony knew—as well as afford the medical bills that result. In reality, however, the diets of the rich vary as much as the rich themselves. When two of the rich had belonged to the Equestrian Navy for several years, for example, their diet could vary quite a bit indeed.

Silver Spoon had tried Hardtack once. Foolishly, she had not believed that it could be nearly as bad as Kelson had described. What she had discovered was that food was capable of tasting like absolutely nothing at all. She had also learned it could take hours to eat and stay with a pony hours later. Once had been enough for her, but if Kelson was to be believed he and Silver's father had had little else to eat for years. As a result they, and Silver, had developed extremely easy to please tastes.

Normally, then, Silver would have been ecstatic to be having pizza for dinner. It was a rare treat, and two days earlier Silver would have called it the only good thing to come out of this weekend. This was precisely the problem. Although she smiled happily at Sweetie Belle across the table, she inwardly she cursed the filly for being so immensely likeable.

Silver took a mental stock of the situation as she started on another slice of pizza. Sweetie would want to plan another attack on The Phantom, of course. From the courage she had shown earlier that day Silver knew there was no way Sweetie wouldn't take their last chance to stop him. If she learned from her mistakes, there was a very real chance that Sweetie would be able to catch Diamond even with Silver trying to sabotage her.

That was item number two. Silver couldn't help but scowl faintly as she thought of Diamond. She could only hope Diamond had gotten it through her head that Sweetie could easily catch them at this. She could only hope that Diamond would adjust her approach tomorrow. Stay out of reach—maybe even out of sight. With any luck Diamond had taken her advice and wouldn't even show up, terrified by the idea of having Sweetie Belle actually catch her and 'win' whatever game Diamond inevitably thought they were playing.

Silver breathed out heavily. She certainly didn't feel lucky. If she was lucky Sweetie Belle would have been every inch the dumb coward Diamond had expected her to be. Instead she was clever, resourceful, brave, selfless, gentle... Silver stopped the list before it could continue, chastising herself. One way or another, there was no sense in brooding over it. All she could do at this point was play it by ear and do her best to respond to Sweetie. She hoped she could keep up. She stuffed the crust of her pizza into her mouth, scowling at nothing in particular.

“Summat the matter, Wee Miss?” Kelson asked. Silver blinked and looked up. Kelson had a tray of desserts balanced on each wing, and a look of concern on his face.

“O-oh!” Silver said hurriedly, pushing up her glasses. “No, I'm fine,” she assured him. “Just, uh, tough crust.”

Kelson laughed. “Is it?” he asked. “I didn't notice, meself... 'course, I suppose I wouldn't now, would I?” He shared a sardonic smile with Silver Light and gestured to Silver's plate. “I hope it's not upset your stomach too much for some Ice Cream?”

Silver grinned, troubles slipping away at the promise of the treat. “Never,” she said.

“Grand!” Kelson replied, setting a small bowl in front of her. As Silver tucked into the treat Kelson continued around the table, offering and handing a bowl to everypony present. The grown-ups chattered amicably over their desert, while Silver savoured it in silence. Sweetie Belle, however, bolted hers down as fast as she was able. Though she made no sound—save for the occasional gasp of breath in-between mouthfuls—Silver could see her fight back groans from ice cream headaches on more than one occasion. Silver couldn't help but smile. She ate a bit faster herself, knowing full well what was coming.

It wasn't long before Sweetie set her bowl down with a clatter. “I'm done!” she declared, squeaking with energy.

“Sweetie!” Rarity admonished, “That's very rude! And terribly unladylike.”

“Oh,” Sweetie said, looking down at the bowl. She looked to Starling and smiled meekly. “Um, sorry,” she said.

Starling gave an understanding smile, and chuckled. “It's quite alright, dear,” she said. “I'm sure you're just excited to run off and play with Silver?”

Sweetie nodded. “Uh-huh,” she said. She looked over to Silver, who was finishing the last few spoonfuls of ice cream even as they spoke.

“I'm almost finished,” Silver said, trying her best to resist rubbing an ice cream headache of her own. She finished her bowl and slipped down from the table. Sweetie Belle joined her quickly. “May we be excused?” Silver asked.

“Of course,” Starling said with a nod. “Our deal from yesterday is still on. As long as you two play together, you're free to do anything you'd like this evening.”

“Great!” Sweetie said, hooking a hoof around Silver's. “Thanks for dinner tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Silver! And you too, Kelson!”

“Aye,” Kelson said with a laugh, “I dial a mean phone. You wee misses go have fun, now.”

Sweetie beamed up at them for a moment longer before pulling Silver away, near-dragging her in a surprising show of strength. Silver gasped, but managed to keep to her hooves as she staggered away. Silver's parents chuckled. Nova rose from beneath the table, trailing after the fillies in a lazy trot.

They had made it through two hallways before Sweetie finally released Silver and gave her a chance to rest. Physically at least; she immediately launched into an excited, hushed whisper. “I've been thinking!” she said.

Wisely, Silver chose to forgo her instinctive burst of sarcasm. Instead she asked, “About the Phantom, right?”

“That's right,” Sweetie Belle said. “I don't think he's a real Phantom after all!”

Silver hummed and adjusted her glasses. She contemplated, not for the first time, just how much easier it would be to judge and work around Sweetie if it were in any way obvious just when Sweetie was being clever. For that matter, it would be easier without the lingering ice cream headache. “Why not?” She asked. “He's still flying around and disappearing.”

“In the dark,” Sweetie Belle said. “He could have anything up there that we wouldn't be able to see, and whenever he gets too deep into the shadows his cloak makes him impossible to see! But the salt didn't work on him at all.”

“I guess so,” Silver said. “But... that doesn't mean for sure he wasn't a ghost. I mean, Kelson didn't guarantee that salt would work, he just said he thought it might.”

“Well... maybe,” Sweetie admitted. She waved her hooves and continued, “But that doesn't matter! Because we found out one thing that did work! We were able to catch The Phantom using one of the nets!”

“That's... true,” Silver said. Her head ached too much for her to be able to deflect that, but she struggled to find a way to cut off Sweetie. It was clear where this was going, and it was too good an idea for Silver's comfort. “He still managed to escape, though. The net might have landed on him, but it didn't slow him down too much... and I don't think that he'll fall for the same trick twice.” At least, she hoped Diamond wouldn't.

“That's why we won't use the same trick!” Sweetie said, breaking into an impish grin.

Silver raised an eyebrow. She had seen that expression on Sweetie rarely in the past, and seen the results more rarely still, but when she had they weren’t pretty. “You've... lost me,” she said. She rubbed her head. The headache had faded to a dull tingling in her teeth and jaw, but it was still distracting.

Sweetie Belle sidled in closer to Silver, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “We'll still need nets,” she whispered, “but we'll need three of them instead of just one. We'll each have one, and I'll be ba—aaaaay—aiiiie!” Sweetie Belle's whisper turned rapidly into a shriek as a cold, wet nose shoved its way in between them. Silver leapt back, in part from the sudden coldness and in part from the shock of Sweetie screaming inches away from her ear.

“Ow,” Silver grunted, wiggling a hoof in her ear to stop the ringing. It was soon joined by that probing nose. Nova had finally caught up to them, and he was far too large and happy to give a care to such things as conspiracy or personal space. Silver giggled as he snuffled in, licking her face. “Nova!” she said, “Stop it!”

“Jeeze!” Sweetie said, patting her chest from the other side of the hall. “Is that Nova? How does such a big dog sneak up on somepony?”

Silver laughed and wrapped her hooves around Nova's neck. Nova panted happily, letting his tongue loll to the side. “He's good at that,” she said. “I'm sorry, I guess he followed us from the kitchen. He must have smelled my headache. He always knows when something is wrong.” Sure enough, Nova gave a heavy lick at the center of Silver's throbbing. It didn't help, but it was nice that he tried, at least.

Sweetie blinked for a moment, then ducked her head. “Oh!” she said. “It, uh... wasn't an ice cream headache, was it...?” the blinked back and forth at one another for a moment, the answer too obvious to say out loud. Sweetie ducked her head lower. “I'm sorry!” she said. “I shouldn't have rushed you. I was just excited to tell you my plan. I didn't know you had gotten a headache...”

Silver smirked. “That's not your fault,” she said. “Heck, if anything I should have been asking how you were doing. You looked like you had a pretty bad one.” She paused, looking up for a moment, and added, “Er, are you alright?”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “Yeah, I'm fine,” she said. “I'm kinda used to getting them; it went away fast.”

Silver's smirk turned into a low smile. “Well, alright,” she said. “So what was this master plan you're so proud of anyways?”

“Oh, right!” Sweetie said, perking up. “Umm, let's see... where was I?”

“Three nets,” Silver offered, leaning against Nova's shoulder. “And you were gonna be ba-ay-aaie.” She shot Sweetie a small, sardonic smile.

Sweetie Belle stuck her tongue out at Silver, but giggled. “Right,” she said. “Except I won't be that—I'll be bait!”

“Bait,” Silver Spoon echoed. “Like, for The Phantom?”

“That's right!” Sweetie said. “Whenever we go there he's always focused on us. At this point he has to hate us. If he thinks one of us is there alone he'll definitely be after us.”

“Okay,” Silver said, “and what's gonna make him think that one of us is there alone? I might not... like going back there, but I'm not gonna just sit out while you put yourself on the line.” Which was true, if only because she didn't want to risk Sweetie actually getting close to catching Diamond without Silver there to intervene.

Sweetie brushed the concerns aside with a wave of her hoof. “No no,” she said. “You'll be there, just out of sight from The Phantom. See, I'll fool The Phantom thinking I'm there alone, and he'll attack me. Then, while he's distracted with me, you'll jump out of hiding and throw the net over him!” She threw up her hooves, grinning wide.

Silver hoped harder than ever that Diamond wouldn't fall for the same trick twice. “So what's your net for, then?” she asked.

“Backup,” Sweetie explained. “If he dodges your net, or you miss, then I'll be right there with another net he won't expect! And if you do hit him, then it'll be just another layer of net to get on him and weigh him down! If we're ready for him this time, then I'm sure we can catch the net and hold him down! We'll hang the third net up over the doorway too, in case we need to escape, or use it.”

Silver frowned. “That's...” she played out the scene in her head. Then again, and then a third time. She tried to think of any way that it could go wrong, anything about it that could come apart. It was a surprisingly tight plan, for how simple it was. There were no gambles, just skill, and Silver knew that if they were trying they would absolutely be able to beat Diamond. If.

“It's perfect,” Silver said with a broad smirk.

“Great!” Sweetie squeaked, grinning even wider. “We'll need to get twine and bolts, again... I hope there's enough left over for three nets.”

Silver chuckled. “Well, we barely made a dent in it last night,” she said. “So I think we'll probably be fine.

Sure enough, as they returned to the garage they found the box of bolts and twine still where they had left them the previous night—right on the bottom step of the stairs. It was lucky there was not much traffic through the garage. Regardless, and quick glance assured that there would likely be enough materials for the construction of three more nets. From how Sweetie Belle grinned and bobbed as she walked, Silver half-expected the filly to suggest they stay up all night making net after net, just in case. A year ago she would have expected Sweetie to declare her intent to earn a cutie mark in ghost-net weaving. Silver smiled to herself as she hefted up the box. It was fortunate that Nova was with them this time; he was more than happy to shoulder the burden. In fact, he barely seemed to notice it at all.

Silver closed the door to the garage behind them as Sweetie spoke up. “So what do you want to do while we make these nets?” she asked.

“Huh?” Silver said. She adjusted the box on Nova's back. “Well, I guess we have more movies if you want to watch some more. I think there are other Marks Brothers' movies.”

Sweetie giggled. “No, no,” she said. “That's something that I would want to do, and we did that last night. We should do something you want to do tonight.”

“Uh,” said Silver. She leaned against Nova's back, blinking. “Well, I mean, I wouldn't mind if you wanted to watch another movie or something.”

“Isn't there anything that you'd want to do that we can do while we make the nets?” Sweetie pressed. “It isn't fair for us to just do what I want to do all the time.”

“W-well, I dunno,” Silver said. She hunched her shoulders up as if to shield herself. For some reason she couldn't quite put a hoof on this line of questioning was beginning to feel awkward. A hot churning washed through her stomach, not unlike shame. “I mean, I'm fine to do anything. If I'm doing something I want to do, I'm usually alone, so...”

“You don't ever do them with Diamond?” Sweetie asked, tilting her head.

“Well, no,” Silver said, looking away. “She... I mean, Diamond isn't interested, and she always has her own ideas of what we should do.”

“But don't you ever want to do the stuff you like to do?” Sweetie pressed. “You always just go along with what she wants to do?”

“Yeah, so?” Silver snapped. She turned back to Sweetie and demanded, “Is that a problem? She's my friend, so what if I like doing what makes her happy?”

Sweetie Belle drew back. “Uh, no,” she said. She was clearly trying to hide it, but her tone was wounded. “I just thought it didn't seem fair, is all...”

Silver sighed and rubbed her eyes. Seeing Sweetie's expression drained away any vitriol she had, and left behind more of that same hot churning in her stomach. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I didn't mean to sound so upset. It's just that... well... nevermind.” She sighed and draped her forelegs over Nova's back. “I'm sorry I snapped at you.”

Sweetie still frowned for a moment, but smiled soon enough. “Everypony gets upset sometimes,” she said. “And I guess maybe I was rude. But I still want to do something that you want to do. What do you usually do when you're alone?”

Silver gave a sigh of relief, happy for the easy change of subject. “Mmm... I guess I read,” She said. “Or play games... oh! I listen to music a lot.” She grinned, adjusting her glasses. “Though I don't know if you'd be interested in music. I mean, since you like show tunes and all.”

Sweetie giggled. “That sounds fun,” she said. “... But I probably won't know anything that you listen to.”

Silver laughed. “That's fine,” she said. “I'll show you some of my records. I think I know something you'll like. Let's head back to my bedroom.”

Silver's bedroom, like the rest of the manor, was near-ancient. Set deep within the bowels of the house there had been little need for more modern renovations, and so it retained much of its original charm. The ceiling high above their heads was a pristine white, supported by wide arches along each wall. A chandelier dangled from the center, glittering with an abundance of lights and jewels. The arches along each wall were an identical shade to the ceiling. The walls behind them, however, were wallpapered in a soft rose, an intricate pattern drawn upon it in thin lines of cream and gold. The lacquered hardwood floor, itself a deep chestnut, was almost entirely covered by a rug in the same soft pink as the wallpaper.

A series of shelves in a style as old as the manor stretched along the inside wall, each one filled with neatly arranged books and records. They were tightly packed together, making room for a large, aged record player. On the far wall was a vast fireplace of white marble. Its mouth was guarded by a golden grill, and its mantle adorned with the dolls and storybooks of a filly much younger, and perhaps more genuine, than Silver. Between the walls, perfectly centered along the back wall, was an enormous canopy bed, its frame the same chestnut as the floor and its bedding a gentle cream. It was an island in the enormous expanse of the room.

Silver trotted inside without a second thought, but paused. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Sweetie gawking at it all. Silver managed to fight down a roll of her eyes, reminding herself it was unlikely that Sweetie had seen anything like this before.

“Wooooooow,” Sweetie murmured. “This is your bedroom? Are you like, a princess or something?”

Silver could help but snort and smirk. “No way,” she said. “This is just... an old house. Anyways, Daddy's cousin is the real rich one in the family. He and his sister are like, super important in the arts and sciences in Canterlot, I think? And their family owns a million other businesses. But they're not even real nobles. So if I'm anything it's more like a viscountess or something, I guess.” She shrugged and crossed the relatively long walk to her bed. She flopped onto it, but quickly sat up again to stop Nova from doing the same and spilling the box.

Sweetie giggled and followed after them. “That's still really cool, you know,” she said. “It must have been amazing to be raised in a place like this!” She hoisted herself up onto the bed beside Silver, gazing around the room.

“I wouldn't really know,” Silver said with a shrug.

“Yeah, I guess not,” Sweetie said. “If you grow up somewhere like this, I guess you just don't notice it after a while, huh?”

This time, Silver could not catch herself in time to keep from rolling her eyes. “Yeah,” she said. “It's—” She stopped and looked away. The comment screamed itself in her head—taking the school carriage three hours from Manehattan to Ponyville every day was much worse—and she was struggling to keep it in. She wasn't sure she could tone down the sarcasm. Perhaps, though, Sweetie might appreciate it? Silver turned back to Sweetie, and immediately wrote off the idea. Sweetie wore an expression so sweet and innocent it was almost offensive. Silver had been mean enough to Sweetie for a lifetime. She couldn't bear to break that smile now. She breathed deep and the desire to make fun ebbed away. “It's part of it,” she said. “Anyways, what kind of music do you want to listen to?”

“No, no,” Sweetie said. “That's not how it works! We have to listen to something you like. Besides, if you don't like theater then I'm pretty sure you won't have something I'd be interested in anyways... but I'm sure I'll like whatever you put on!” She appended the assurance with a broad, toothy grin. “You said you had an idea?”

Silver gave a smirk of her own as she slipped down from the bed. It made her feel better to know that Sweetie was also trying hard to be nice. It gave them an air of collaborative awkwardness. The tension of it was warm and exciting in a way that Silver couldn't quite describe.

Silver knew what she wanted before she reached the shelf of records. She wanted something light. Something mellow. Something that would ease the tension in the air and play with the laughter in her heart. Ideally, something that would not drive her wry.

“Fully Clothed Mares!” She declared, pulling a fresh-looking record from the shelf.

“What?” Sweetie Belle squeaked, blushing a vivid crimson. She tucked into a tiny, self-covering ball for the moment before straightening out. Her flush only deepened as she tried to play it off.

Silver chuckled. “Not you,” she said. “It's a band—Fully Clothed Mares. You've never heard of them?”

Sweetie Bell managed to relax. A look of puzzlement swept across her face. “That actually sounds...” she murmured, “oh! I've heard of them! My dad listens to them.”

“...Huh,” Silver said. She looked down at the record and blinked. The sleeve was fresh, almost brand new, and the picture was a crisp photograph. It certainly didn't look old enough for a dad to listen to. She shrugged and slipped it out of its sleeve. “So you know them?” she asked.

“Kinda,” Sweetie Belle said, kicking her legs idly over the edge of the bed. “I heard a bit, but never really listened? They always sounded kinda sad. Which is fine sometimes, but not always?”

“Yeah, they get like that,” Silver said, slipping the record into the player. “I don't know, they're from Caneighda. I'd get depressed too, if it was cold and wet all the time. They're not always so bad, though,” she added. The tone-arm of the record player swung down with a muffled hiss, and the music sprang to life with a sharp strike of the drums. The tune was steady and energetic, almost jazzy. Silver felt the heavy beats in her legs and shoulders, lending their rhythm to her pace as she sauntered back to the bed. By the time she reached it she was bobbing and swaying to the tune, almost dancing. She hopped up and almost threw herself into Nova, who had curled up behind Sweetie. The big dog made an excellent pillow, with little more than a mellow “Wurf”. Silver grinned and wiggled deeper into his side. She began to bob a hoof in time with the music as it flowed through her.

Through a half-lidded eye Silver saw Sweetie lean back on her hooves, a slow smile spreading across her face. Sweetie's eyes drifted closed, and her head began to dip and sway in time with the beat. Soon she was following it just as deftly as Silver, if not more so. Seeing her enjoying the music so obviously only made Silver's smile wider.

“Good, huh?” Silver asked. “Not too sad?” Her smile faded as she thought better of the remark. “I mean,” she stammered, “It's not, like—”

“Not too sad,” Sweetie said. A smile like the opposite of a clown's spread across her face: what was likely meant to appear devilish and cunning was instead silly. “Only sad I didn't listen to more of them. This is really good!”

Silver's grin returned, in equal parts from happiness Sweetie wasn't hurt by the sarcasm, and in part from the sheer badness of Sweetie's meager attempt at a joke. It was so awful Silver wouldn't have been able to make fun of it if she had tried. “Well, I'm glad,” she said with a laugh. “Also makes us one-for-one in getting each other to try something.”

Sweetie's smile took on a quality Silver didn't quite understand—Silver wondered if it was her own exasperated smirk she was seeing sent back at her—and Sweetie poked out her tongue. “It's not a competition,” she said.

“No,” Silver agreed. “It's an exchange! You showed me good theater, so I figured it was only fair.”

“That's even worse,” Sweetie giggled. “Friends don't do things because they're fair, they do things because they want to be nice to each other!”

Sweetie Belle had clearly had different friendships than Silver. “You said we should do something I wanted to do tonight because it was fair,” Silver pointed out.

“I—“ Sweetie Belle said, and stopped. She took on a look of puzzlement and intense concentration for a moment. “I wanted it to be fair because I thought that would be nice for you!”

“So why isn't it me being nice if I want to be fair?” asked Silver with a smirk. She was almost hoping to puzzle Sweetie Belle again. It was a surprisingly compelling expression.

To her luck Sweetie's expression became befuddled once again. This time, however, it was tempered more with a vague concern than concentration. “Well, I...” she said. “Uh... we should get started on those nets!” she rolled over, reaching for the box of nuts and twine.

Silver sat up, staring sidelong at Sweetie Belle. She had dodged more than enough conversations and changed subjects enough times to recognize when it was happening. She frowned internally, but reached for the box regardless “Okay,” she said. “I can run the twine and string the nuts if you can tie the knots.”

The pair fell into a silence as they worked. Part of it was concentration, Silver reminded herself. The lion's share, no doubt. Still, she couldn't deny that the sense of lingering awkwardness didn't help. Had she said something that had hurt Sweetie's feelings? It was far from impossible. At the same time, as Silver parsed back through their conversation she could not find any one thing that could have done it. Any comment that had slipped out Sweetie Belle hadn't seemed concerned by. Was it, perhaps, that Silver had stumbled across a nerve when she commented on Sweetie's fairness? Whatever the cause, the filly was undeniably dour.

Silver frowned more deeply. Whether or not it was her fault, she didn't want Sweetie to spend the evening unhappy, not when Silver was already complicit in torturing Sweetie's days. “... You know,” she said after a moment of thought, voice unsure, “I never heard how you got your cutie mark.”

Sweetie didn't respond for a moment, engrossed in her work. After a while she blinked, and looked up. “Huh?” she asked.

“Your cutie mark,” Silver repeated awkwardly. “It's, uh... I never heard how you got it. You just showed up at school one day with it. I was just kinda curious, since we don't have much to do but talk?”

Sweetie stared at her, hesitant and cautious. Then she looked down, her expression turning sheepish, and she began to smile. “It's... not a good story,” she laughed. “Kinda silly, actually, how long it took. Um, me and Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were having Twilight Time, and Apple Bloom was making a new potion...”

Silver smiled as she settled back into Nova. Sweetie Belle launched into the story, her smile returning as she spoke. Whatever had been bothering her, there was no trace of it now—she was so excited to regale Silver that she hardly gave her a moment to respond or ask questions.

The rhythm of the music set the pace of their conversation and their work. After their practice yesterday they were working swiftly, so much so that their first two nets were completed even before the record restarted. They were amateurish and ugly, which made them a marked improvement on the previous night's net. In spite of Silver's halfhearted attempts at sabotage, the third was looking good.

“—And Twilight had a musical adaption of 'The Good Pony of Szechuan’, and they made me sing it all afternoon!” Sweetie declared, rocking back and laughing.

Silver laughed as well. In the back of her mind was a distant echo of a joke at Twilight's expensethat she found surprisingly easy to ignore. “Well, if you got your cutie mark out of it, it couldn't have been that rough. Bolts, please.” She pinched her last in place for Sweetie to tie. A green-glowing length wrapped itself around the knot.

“Tell that to my throat the next morning,” Sweetie giggled. She leaned over to the box, fishing a hoof around in it for a few moment. “I think we're out,” she said. She frowned at the box, upending it and giving it a shake. A few scraps of paper and cardboard fell out, following by a shower of dust and grit, but no bolts.

Silver grimaced at the mess on her bed, sweeping it away and taking a look in the box herself just for the sake of it. “Dang,” she said. The net was a little over three-quarters finished. “I guess... we'll have a bolt-less corner?” she said.

Sweetie considered this for a moment. Her horn lit up and the net began to glow. It lifted into the air, twisting around and around. Eventually it twisted itself into a diamond with the bolt-less corner pointed down. “Filly door!” Sweetie exclaimed with a gleeful squeak. She grinned, trotting back and forth through the cords as a demonstration. Silver simply started and adjusted her glasses.

“We'll use this on the door,” Sweetie explained. “That was we can just run through the part without bolts, and not get hurt! And The Phantom won't follow.” She paused, and added, “Well, he probably won't follow... he seems to like flying.”

Silver snorted. She certainly hoped Diamond liked flying. “He'll be staying as far away from us as possible, if he knows what's good for him,” she said.

Sweetie giggled. She clambered back up onto the bed, bouncing to a seat beside Silver. “That's right!” she said, jabbing at the air. “We'll show that Phantom who's boss, tomorrow!”

“Right...” Silver said. She gave a wry smile and leaned back into Nova.

“But,” Sweetie Belle said, kicking her hind legs, “That's tomorrow. We still have all night tonight! What do you want to do?”

Silver smile faded to a smirk, although one no less wry. “We're already doing what I want to do,” Silver said. “If you want to do something else, we can go ahead. Listening to music can't be very fun.”

Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue. “Don't say it like that!” she said. “I still want to do what you want to do tonight, and not just because it's fair. You have good ideas, Silver!”

Silver felt a hint of blush creep into her cheeks. “Yeah, right,” she said as she turned away from Sweetie. “We're sitting on my bed, with a dog, listening to Dad music. Yup. I have great ideas.”

“You do,” Sweetie insisted. “You should be more confident in yourself. You're the reason we found out about The Phantom, and the nets were your idea, and you knew how to put everything together... we wouldn't have gotten anywhere this weekend if it weren't for you!”

“Gee,” Silver said flatly, “Thanks. That makes me feel better.”

Sweetie Belle frowned, but it quickly faded. “Well, it should,” she said, folding her forelegs. “I say, you have great ideas and you should stand up for yourself. I'll bet you don't just listen to music. What else do you do that we could do together?”

Silver sighed. Sweetie Belle was doing her best to encourage her, she knew that. Sarcasm aside, Silver appreciated it as well. She shrugged and rubbed her neck. “I dunno,” she said. “I guess we could read to each other, or find some board games, or... dance, or something?”

“You dance?” Sweetie asked, sitting up. “I've never seen you dance!”

“Well yeah, 'cause I do it when I'm home alone,” Silver said. She chuckled. “But yes, I dance. I started at the same time as my acting classes. I figured I'd need it, and... well, even after I dropped out of acting dancing didn't bug me, so I kept on with the lessons.”

Sweetie grinned wider, and blushed. “I'm not good at dancing,” she said, “but I really like doing it!”

Silver smirked. “What do you mean, you're not good at it?” she asked. She sat up as well. “Dancing is just something you do, you don't have to be great it to be good.”

“I dunno about that,” Sweetie said, tucking her head down and blushing brighter. “You haven't seen me dance.”

“You can't be that bad,” Silver said, leaning back on her forehooves. “It's easy!”

Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue. “Okay, so prove it then!” She said with a squeaking giggle. “Dance right now!”

“Alright, I will,” Silver said as she hopped down from the bed. “But only,” she added, rounding on Sweetie, “if you dance afterwards.”

“Deal!” Sweetie said. She grinned like a madmare, wiggling on the bed with delight.

Silver smirked wider at her, and trotted over to the record player. The filly's enthusiasm was infectious, Silver couldn't deny that. Truth be told, Silver was looking forward to dancing as well. It had been a while since she had outside of classes, and the music and good cheer left a rhythm in her bones. A faint blush lingered in her cheeks as well; too faint to see, but warm enough for her to feel. The thought of Sweetie watching her dance was surprisingly exciting. She took out the record and slipped in one more appropriate for dancing.

As the record span to life Silver reached back, toying her mane loose from its braid. She gave her head a few good shakes and her long, sheer mane came free. It draped over her shoulders and back, framing her face. She always wore her mane down when she danced; her teachers said the way it moved gave her something extra.

She felt the music in her shoulders first. From there it flowed down her legs into her hooves, and into her chest, and into her neck. She bobbed her head and swayed her shoulders as she walked into the center of the room. The tempo was steadily increasing, and so did her pace. Her weight shifted to her hind legs, bobbing gently to the tune. Her forelegs kicked out, swinging in wide arcs and flicking her wrists to the beat.

The tempo kicked up suddenly, and just as suddenly Silver slid to the right, pulling herself up into a sharp hop. She closed her eyes, letting the music flow through her. Jumping, shaking and spinning to the rhythm and the flow. It was as natural as breathing, as easy as sleeping, and as joyful as... well, as dancing. She could feel her muscles burn as she twirled, and she loved it. The thought that Sweetie Belle was watching her, while slightly embarrassing, only made it better. She even found herself showing off a bit, adding in hops and spins to the usual kick-and-shake.

By the time the song finished she could feel the burning ache in her shoulders, and she was beginning to be short on breath. In spite of it all she was laughing with glee. It felt good to dance. It felt even better to dance with somepony else there. She opened her eyes, and was immediately struck with a blush. Sweetie Belle was staring at her, rapt with glee. She grinned from ear to ear, and a faint hint of blush tinged her cheeks. Silver looked away, rubbing her face. “S-see?” she said. “It's not so hard.”

“That was amazing!” Sweetie squeaked. She leaned forward so fast she almost toppled over and applauded Silver's dance, while Silver's blush only deepened. “I could never dance that well!”

“Yeah, well,” Silver said, adjusting her glasses. “I still think you can't be too bad. But I guess we'll find out, right? You did promise to dance next, after all.”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “Okay, I guess I did,” she said. “But it's definitely not gonna be good.”

“I'll be the judge of that,” Silver said. She hopped up onto the bed as Sweetie slipped down. Silver shuffled back into Nova's side, who yawned and turned his head, as though he was interested in watching as well. Silver couldn't blame him.

Just as Silver had done, Sweetie Belle closed her eyes as the song picked up its pace. Just as Silver had done, Sweetie Belle began to sway in time with the beat. That was where the similarities ended. Sweetie Belle launched into her dance well before the beat kicked in, resulting in a few moments of erratic flailing before anything resembling rhythm emerged. Even when it did Sweetie's motions were still wide and wild.

It was obvious that she was trying to Lindy Hop, as Silver had done. Well... she was trying, and that was what was important. She hopped and bounced and flailed and twirled with abandon. It was all just behind the beat, and just wild enough to make it seem like she could topple over at any moment. For a few moments she span so much and so rapidly Silver thought she might lift off.

Silver clapped her hooves over her mouth to stifle a laugh. It very nearly slipped out in spite of her efforts. Sweetie' enthusiasm was undeniable, but if Silver had seen this before she had heard Sweetie sing, she would have been convinced the filly couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Or a shopping cart.

When the song ended Sweetie landed gracefully, legs outstretched in a pose she probably thought was quite impressive. It was impressive for one reason, to be fair: it was the only movement that had seemed sure for the entire song. The laugh Silver had been stifling had turned into a cackle, but she still fought it down nobly. From Sweetie's expression, however, it was clear it didn't work.

Sweetie laughed, rubbing her mane. “I told you I was awful,” she giggled.

“You weren't... awful,” Silver managed to force out. “You enjoyed yourself.”

Sweetie gave her a look of disbelief. “You don't have to lie to me, Silver,” she said.

Silver chuckled for a moment, but the humour rapidly drained out of her like air from a balloon. Deflated by Sweetie's comment Silver adjusted her glasses. “It was pretty bad,” she admitted. “But not totally awful. I've seen worse.”

“Yeah, right,” Sweetie said with a sharp flick of her tail.

“Seriously,” Silver said. She held up her hooves to show she had nothing to hide. “I've seen way worse ponies all the time! Half the ponies who are just starting make you look like a ballerina. I bet if you practiced a little bit then you'd be really good!”

Sweetie smiled and squeaked quietly. “You think so?” she asked.

“I'm sure of it,” Silver said. “In fact, I'll bet...” she adjusted her glasses. “I'll bet I could teach you a little?”

Sweetie Belle's face lit up, and Silver's followed suit. “Really?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Well, sure,” Silver said. She shrugged. “I mean, you had a good beat, even if it wasn't with the song's beat. You just don't know the moves yet. So, you know... if you'd like, I could show you...”

“That sounds great!” Sweetie exclaimed. She bound up to the bed, almost dragging Silver off of it. “Where should we start? Spins? Jumps? Those neat kicks you were doing? Ooh, I know—“

“Whoa, easy!” Silver said. She placed a firm hoof on Sweetie Belle's shoulder. “Let's... start a little bit slower, okay? You're probably lucky you didn't smash your head on something while you were spinning around there. I'll show you some basic steps, and...” She hesitated for a moment as she watched Sweetie begin to pout. Silver groaned. If that look could be bottled... “And maybe we'll try some spins later, okay?”

Sweetie pout turned into a grin with alarming speed. “Okay!” she said.

“Great,” Silver replied, almost immediately regretting it. Still, in spite of everything—in spite of knowing how this could go wrong, in spite of her lingering guilt over playing friendly to disguise a cruel prank, in spite of the ever rising tide of dread at the thought of Sweetie finding out—Silver felt strangely lighthearted. She stepped away from Sweetie and sauntered to the record player. “We'll try something slower for this,” she said. She slipped in a new record and returned to Sweetie.

“Okay,” she said. “If it's the two of us, I may as well show you how to do partner dancing. It's how it's supposed to be done anyways.” Silver rolled her shoulders and fixed her glasses. “And there's no real difference between partnered and single anyways. Ready?”

“Ready,” Sweetie Belle said. Her grin had taken on an almost sheepish air.

Silver breathed deep, and stepped close to Sweetie so that their forelegs interlaced. She stood so close that her chest brushed lightly against Sweetie's, and her head reached over Sweetie Belle's shoulder. She didn't think she'd ever been this close to the filly before. A faint scent of cake lingered about Sweetie.

“Silver?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Huh?” Silver asked with a blink. “R-right, sorry, just... uh, thinking. So, uh, we want our hooves together like this,” she brushed her left hoof against Sweetie's right, subtly tucking it around. It was subtle enough that both hooves were flat against the ground, but present enough to feel every twitch. “Now, we're gonna start with a triple-step, so follow my lead. One, two, one, two-three.”

She counted in time to the record, leading Sweetie in a slow, shuffle-stepped sway back and forth across the bedroom. “Okay,” Silver said after a few passes, “That's good! Now let's try to mix in a rock step.”

“What's that?” Sweetie asked. Her voice was faint. Silver looked over, and saw that the filly was staring intently at her hooves. Silver smiled.

“It's easy,” Silver assured her. “I'll show you.” She walked Sweetie through the move, demonstrating it and leading Sweetie with a gentle hoof. Sweetie moved awkwardly at first, almost tripping over her own hooves and bumping against Silver's chest.

“Sorry,” Sweetie said hurriedly, stepping back and rubbing at her blush.

“It's alright,” Silver assured her, blushing a bit herself. “I did it a lot when I first started too. Let's try again.” She took Sweetie's hoof once again, leading her back into the dance.

It took a few more passes for Sweetie Belle to get it right, but it wasn't long before they were shuffling happily back and forth across the room, stretching in and out of each other's' grasp. It was slow, and simple, but a broad smile sat on each girls' face.

“You're doing great,” Silver said. “Why don't we try something a bit more difficult?”

“Spinning?” Sweetie asked with a gasp. She grinned so wide that Silver was almost afraid to dash her hopes.

“Not quite,” Silver explained with a laugh. “More like... waltzing. Except it'll be fun. What we'll do is, instead of stepping sideways I'll step so I wind up beside you. I'll do it a few times, and then I'll lead you into it. How does that sound?”

Sweetie looked worried for a moment, but quickly replaced it with a trusting smile. “Okay!” she said.

“Alright!” Silver said. This time even she looked at her hooves. She held Sweetie's hoof tighter and stepped in closer. Anticipation and excitement washed over her as they took a few shuffling steps to wind up. She stepped lively, circling around to Sweetie's side while still holding Sweetie's hoof. Their rumps bopped together. Silver's heart leaped, and she and Sweetie giggled as Silver returned to her position at Sweetie's chest.

Again and again they turned into it. Surprisingly, Sweetie proved little obstacle to the turning. After only two passes they had it down to an art. It felt easy, even natural. Silver wished that she had had Sweetie as a dancing partner when she first started. It would have saved a lot of stepped-on toes. They brushed against one another in perfect rhythm, toe to toe, chest to chest, grin to grin and heart to heart. “Your turn,” Silver murmured, and gave the gentlest of pushes to beckon Sweetie into a turn. Sweetie must have felt the connection as well, because she moved with perfect grace in Silver's hooves.

It felt like they danced for hours, though it couldn't have been longer than a few minutes. Silver was more than happy to let time drag on. She wished she could stay there, in that moment, forever. Anything was better than letting tomorrow come. Another bout of fear and lies, another fight with the Phantom. Silver frowned, chasing the thoughts away. Tomorrow was tomorrow, but tonight was tonight. Tonight she was dancing, and well at that. Sweetie moved so easily at Silver's suggestions it felt like they had danced together for years. Then again, Silver supposed, in a way they had. By and large Sweetie had never quite allowed herself to be bullied. She had always pushed back just a little, always dodged just a touch.

She pushed back even now, both in mood and dance. Sweetie Belle moved with ever more confidence, so Silver picked up their pace. They turned more, stepped faster, hopped higher. Silver felt the ache of exercise setting in again. She was sure Sweetie felt it too, probably more so. They danced anyways. They let the music flow through them, around them, and between them like water. It would have to end soon, but for now they both wanted to savour the moment together.

The thought echoed in Silver’s mind. It would have to end soon. She tried to chase it away again, but it stuck in her mind like tar. It reminded her just how far gone she was. It was too late to come clean now.

The record ended as Silver wrestled with the worries. The sharp click and soft hiss pierced her already burdened mind and for just a moment, just long enough, she forgot where her legs were. Sweetie Belle's hoof caught Silver's, and both staggered backwards. They fought for balance, but it was already too late.

With the slow agony of a felled tree the pair toppled backwards. Silver squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the crash onto the hard floor. It was much to her surprise, then, when she instead sank into a downy mattress. After taking a moment to pound her heart back to life, she opened her eyes.

Without realizing it, Silver and Sweetie had danced their way in front of the bed, and so their tremendous topple had resulted in nothing worse than a surprise nap. They had landed face to face, not even hard enough to stir Nova from his laze.

Sweetie blinked at Silver. Silver blinked at Sweetie. Sweetie giggled softly, and began to laugh. She pulled her hind legs up onto the bed, curling into a little ball of laughter. Silver snickered, and couldn't help but join in.

“I'm sorry,” Sweetie Belle said when her laughter finally subsided. “You tripped on me!”

“It's not your fault,” Silver said. She lifted up her glasses to wipe away a tear. “I missed a step. You were right where you should have been, I'm the one who messed up.”

Sweetie giggled, and for a moment Silver thought she would burst into laughter again. “I guess it happens to the best of you, huh?” she asked.

Silver snorted. “I dunno who the 'best of us' is here, but it sure isn't me,” she said. “I'm just okay. You were pretty great, though, for a beginner. I would never have gotten that far with Diamond.”

Sweetie stifled a laugh. “That's mean,” she said.

“That's honest,” Silver told her. “Diamond is my best friend, but she isn't patient.”

Sweetie grinned, snuggling deeper into the covers. “How come you're friends with her?” she asked.

Silver blinked. She laughed again, less because of humour and more because she had been utterly stunned by the question. “What?” she asked.

“It's just,” Sweetie said, tucking her head down, “you seem so... different, from her. When you're not being sarcastic, you're really nice.” She stared at her hooves, tracing circles on the bed. “You wanted us to be nice, even if it was for kind of a selfish reason. When I fell into those boxes, you checked on me to make sure I was alright without even thinking about it—and we still weren't even friends then! And you didn't make fun of me for being scared of the Phantom.”

“I'd have been pretty lousy to, considering how scared of him I am,” Silver pointed out. She adjusted her glasses and rubbed away a blush. She had never thought of herself as being caring before. She liked making ponies feel good, of course, but being caring was something else entirely.

“But you still could have,” Sweetie said. She shuffled closer to Silver. “To make up for how scared you felt. And you listened when I got upset, even though I was yelling and you could have easily just ignored me, or thought I was being a jerk again. Even today! You're trying really, really hard not to be mean.”

Silver's blush deepened, more from shame than embarrassment. “Is it that obvious?” she asked.

“It's obvious that you don't want to be mean anymore,” Sweetie said, placing a hoof on Silver's shoulder. Her touch was warm and gentle, and it calmed Silver's nerves.

Silver smiled ruefully and sighed. “I wish I was better at it,” she said.

“But you are better!” Sweetie said. “You've barely been sarcastic at all tonight, and when you did you apologized right away even if I didn't get upset.”

“I haven't?” Silver asked. She frowned, thinking back over the evening. She must have, surely. “I think I just... forgot about it, because I was happy with you.”

Sweetie Belle simply giggled. “That just means being nice is coming more naturally,” she said. “That's why I'm so surprised... that's why I got upset earlier. I remembered thinking about you and Diamond, and how you always seemed mean and bored. I just didn't understand why.” She wrapped her hooves around Silver's foreleg and shuffled closer.

Silver looked down and adjusted her glasses. “I guess... Diamond is kind of the reason I'm sarcastic, yeah,” she admitted. “But it wasn't that I was upset or bored with her, not really. I mean, it's just...” A faint flush of shame crept into her cheeks. “Well, when I said that Diamond always has better ideas and isn't interested in what I want to do, that wasn't really true. The truth is, she doesn't really ask. Not anymore, I mean. She used to, but I never had any ideas, so I just got used to doing what she wants. I guess now, sometimes I get tired of that, and sarcasm is... it's easier to just snark at her than to actually try and get her to stop and listen.”

Sweetie Belle frowned. “Then, that's definitely not fair!” she insisted. “You've had great ideas all weekend! If you're friends, she should still try listening to you.” she frowned deeper and mumbled, “Might make her less of a jerk sometimes.”

Silver smirked faintly and rubbed her cheek. “You know, Diamond isn't as bad as everypony thinks,” she said.

Sweetie looked up, and moved closer again. She just stared, silent but inquisitive.

“Everypony thinks she's a jerk,” Silver continued. “But everypony thinks I'm a jerk too. I don't blame them. I'm sarcastic a lot. Maybe I've been doing alright tonight, but it's hard to stop it slipping out sometimes. Diamond is... willful.” It sounded better than 'pigheaded', certainly. “She knows what she wants, and she tries to get it. I guess that's kind of why I'm friends with her?” She sighed and looked up at Nova as if she expected his help. While he had shifted around to face the fillies, he was content to watch impassively. “I'm telling you a lot of stories this weekend, huh?” she asked. She gave a dry smile and laughed. “I think Diamond is the only other friend I have who knows this much about me... I didn't always live in Ponyville. You can probably guess, I was born here in Manehattan.

“They never told me exactly why—I think Daddy just got tired of the city—but after my big sister left for university, the rest of us moved to Ponyville. I was 6. I was a little filly, I was used to the city, I didn't know anypony, and it was just a little while after the whole Phantom thing... basically, I was miserable. I saw it as this dumb little... backwater town without anypony interesting.” She folded her forelegs in front of her like a shield and frowned. “And it's not like anypony wanted to prove me wrong. Being the new foal in town is like being put on display, and I really didn't want anypony to pay attention to me back then. Being rich just made it worse. Pretty dresses, bows in my mane... it just made it more obvious. Everypony was crowding around me, asking me a bunch of the same questions, over and over. It was so...” She realized that she had started to get angry just thinking about it, even lifting her hooves as if to strangle the memory. To say Sweetie looked concerned would be a remarkable understatement. Silver adjusted her glasses, and carried on.

“Everypony except Diamond,” she said. “I think, looking back on it now, she was just jealous that somepony richer than her had moved to town? Whatever it was, she didn't bother me. And nopony bothered her. So I started sitting next to her in class, and hanging around her at recess, just so nopony would hang around me. That went on for like, weeks before we ever actually talked to one another. And you know what the first thing she said to me was?”

It took Sweetie a moment to realize it was an actual question, enraptured as she was by the story. She jolted slightly, and blushed. “W-what did she say?” she asked.

“'You should try braiding your mane',” Silver recounted with a fond laugh. “'Nopony pays attention to ponies with braids'. She understood. We hadn't said as much as three words to each other, and she understood me. After that, we started talking more and more until we became real friends.” Silver smiled at the memories, and rubbed her face. “I guess what I'm saying is, I'm friends with Diamond Tiara because we understand each other. Saying that being Rich is hard is like, the Richest thing in the word to do, but it's got its own problems, and it's hard for ponies to get that sometimes. So sometimes it's nice to have a pony who does understand that.

“Diamond is... pushy, sometimes,” Silver admitted. “And yeah, she can be kind of mean. But she's a lot more understanding than she seems, at first glance. You just have to be willing to get to know her. She just takes time.” Silver shrugged, and smiled. “I guess it's up to you if that sounds worth it.”

Sweetie thought about this for a moment, and began to grin. “Well,” she said, “I think I'll take your word for it. For now.”

Silver smirked. “Thanks for the vote of confidence,” she said. “For now?”

Sweetie nodded. “For now,” she said. “If she's your friend, then I guess I believe she has to be nice sometimes. And I guess I'll get the chance to meet her, and get to know her better.” She grinned wider and yawned.

Silver's smirk melted into a warm smile. “Really takes a lot out of you, huh?” she asked, chuckling at Sweetie's sleepy blush.

“Yeah,” Sweetie said. “I'm exhausted.” She rubbed at her eyes. “I'm glad we got those nets done before we started... that mean 'ole Phantom won't know what hit him!” She pantomimed boxing some unseen enemy, and Silver forced out an awkward laugh.

Sweetie laughed as well. “Well... Diamond is right about one thing,” she said.

“Hmm?” Silver asked, adjusting her glasses. She pulled them off, checking them for any spots or scratches.

“Yeah,” Sweetie said. “She was pretty clever to say that putting mane hair in a braid would make ponies forget about you. You look really pretty with your mane down.”

Silver blushed crimson, nearly dropping her glasses. “Wh—“ she stammered. She hid her face under the pretense of tucking her glasses back on. “Geeze, heh... do you want me to take my glasses off too, so you can say I was beautiful all along, like some movie?”

Sweetie grinned wider. “You're still pretty with your mane braided,” she said. “You're just prettier with it down. And keep your glasses. I like them.”

Silver blushed redder, rubbing desperately at her cheeks. “Stop it,” she laughed. “It's embarrassing.”

“Rarity says that a mare should never be shy about her beauty,” Sweetie told her. She yawned wide, snuggling deeper into the downy quilt beneath them and letting her eyelids droop. “Wouldn't it be great if all five of us could be friends, instead of fighting all the time?” she asked. “After this weekend, once we've got the Phantom beat...”

Silver's good mood faded. “Hah... Y-yeah,” she said, looking down. Strangely, though, her good mood didn't leave completely. The thought of all five of them together—no fighting, no bickering, just friendship, and Silver together with Sweetie—brought a wistful smile to her face. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “I think that would be nice.”

When she looked back up Sweetie's eyes had already begun to drift shut. Silver watched her as her eyelids closed more and more. Sweetie's face took on a serene quality—or perhaps it only became more obvious without her infectious cheer in the way? Silver found herself studying the contours of Sweetie's face, her cheeks and eyelashes.

Sweetie was really something else, Silver remarked to herself. Silver's olive branch was rotten, offered in the name of a cruel joke. Even trying to be good paled in comparison to actually being good. Sweetie Belle was good, plain and simple. Silver wondered what it was like. Sweetie seemed happy.

Silver rose from the bed and took off her glasses, setting them on the bedside table. She slowly pulled the covers out from under Sweetie, easing the filly into a safer position on the bed and tucking her in. She slipped into bed, watching Sweetie sleep for a few more minutes before her own tiredness caught up with her.

In her final moments of wakefulness, Silver Spoon sighed. Why was somepony like her allowed to love somepony like Sweetie Belle?

Chapter 6: Brave

Chapter 6: Brave

It felt strangely cold in Silver Spoon's bedroom. Posters in garish shades of red, yellow and orange plastered the walls. The warm, forest-green wallpaper poked through the gaps between. Sunlight streamed through a wide picture window, casting itself across Silver in her downy bed, a shade of autumnal brown. The summer heat outside was stifling. Nova was a heavy black heater pressed right against Silver's back.

And yet, Silver Spoon felt cold.

It felt as though the heat had been dragged out of her with an ice cream scoop, pulling several other things out along with it. Her chest was a hollow pit that had frozen over. Silver curled up, clutching at the pit as though she could make it go away. She couldn't. She knew she couldn't.

A knock at the door gave Silver a brief reprieve from her misery. “Wee Miss?” Kelson said, opening the door with eyes cast high, just in case. “It's time for school.”

“Dunwan gmff.” Silver grumbled, rolling over.

Kelson cleared his throat and stepped inside. “What was that, Wee Miss?” he asked.

“I said I don't want to go to school,” Silver said over her shoulder.

“Well, can't say as I know many fillies who would want to go to school,” Kelson said. He trotted further into the room and started getting Silver's school things ready. “Still, that don't stop ‘em going.”

“I'm sick,” Silver said.

“Mmmhm,” Kelson replied. He gathered her saddlebag and flipped it open. Yesterday's books were still inside, untouched. Kelson sighed. “Well, somethin's certainly wrong,” he said, taking a seat on the bed. “You've been 'sick' all week. It's not like you 'aven't been grounded before.”

Silver scooted further away from Kelson. “I'm not upset at being grounded,” she said. “I... I deserved that. I'm sick.”

Silver could feel Kelson's eyes on her, unconvinced and unimpressed. “Aye?” he asked. “Well, we can 'ave your sister come down. She seemed to help you get un-sick last time, if’n I recall.”

Silver winced. “No, Kelson,” she said. “I just... I just want to be alone right now, okay?”

“Alone with Nova?” Kelson asked, nudging the dog. Nova gave a barely lucid groan and rolled against Silver.

“Nova doesn't count,” Silver retorted.

“'Cause he's a dog?” Kelson asked.

“Because he doesn't ask so many questions!” Silver barked. She lifted a pillow to throw at Kelson, but her energy abandoned her halfway through. She groaned, flopping to the bed.

Kelson sighed, setting his hooves on his haunches, and hauled himself off the bed. “Well,” he said, “If that's the case I'd definitely be off to school, if I were you. Can't find anyplace more lonesome than a crowd, I always say. An' if y'stay around here, I'm just gonna ask you a lot more questions.”

Silver grumbled something that would have gotten her in trouble if her mother had heard, and dragged herself out of bed. “Okay,” she said.

Kelson held out her saddlebag, but pulled it back as Silver reached for it. “One last thing, Wee Miss,” he said.

Silver sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “What is it?”

Kelson's expression was soft, but his gaze was piercing, unfaltering. It lingered on Silver until she had to look away, which in truth was not very long. He placed a brawny hoof on her shoulder. “Y'ain't fooling anypony, Silver. We can all tell summat's the matter. An' aye, we've all got our guesses—some of us more'n others—but we ain't makin' any guesses just yet. Just... we're all here for you, if’n y'need us.” He seemed to have run out of words to say, tottering awkwardly on his hooves for a moment. He patted Silver's shoulder. “Point is, we care about you, and want y'to be ‘appy. If you talk t'us, maybe we can help, aye? But we won't make you if y'aint ready.”

Silver stared up at Kelson. A million barbs, retorts and brush-offs flashed behind her eyes, and each one made her more and more tired. In the end, all she could say was, “...Okay, Kelson. Thanks.”

Kelson breathed deeply, and handed Silver her saddlebags. “Aye,” he said. “It's what we're here for, I s’pose. Oh,” he picked up a brush from Silver's desk and handed it to her. “An' brush your mane. Y'look a fright. There's a good filly.”

Silver brushed and braided her mane in silence and slipped out one of the many back doors of the manor. Or perhaps it was a side door. She was never sure at the best of times, and she wasn't in a position to ponder on it this morning. She boarded the school carriage as it passed, skulking her way to the back. As usual, ponies opened up around her like a wake. When she sat down, a colt a year or two below her tried his best to sneak out past her, then bolted.

Silver sighed and pressed herself back into the sticky pleather seat. She thought about what Kelson had said. 'Talk to us'. She scoffed internally, although her heart wasn't in it. What would she even say? She would have to decide who she resented more, first.

Scootaloo boarded the bus, and Silver sank lower in her seat. She could feel hot, angry eyes on her as Scootaloo passed, but she had become used to it by now. Besides, she was far too busy wallowing to be concerned by it. Her eyes were locked on the door. In three years of middle school she had never bothered to keep track of what order the bus picked up students in. In three days she had learned it by heart. They were only three houses away from Sweetie's.

Silver had watched Sweetie get on the bus each day, and each day she had stayed silent. She still had no idea what she expected to happen, or what she wanted to happen. In some strange way a part of her expected Sweetie to appear before her, all smiles and giggles as usual, and sit down right beside her as if nothing had happened. Sweetie had forgiven her easily enough before, hadn't she? Yet every day Sweetie had slunk quickly past her. Quicker than Sweetie passed the other foals.

Today, however, was different. Not different because Sweetie talked to Silver, or even acknowledged her, but because the carriage passed Sweetie's house without slowing.

Silver sat up, staring out the window as they rolled by. They were definitely passing Sweetie's house, but the filly was nowhere to be seen. Silver adjusted her glasses and scoured the house as much she could in the moment before they slipped past. No lights were on. No doors were open. She chewed on her lip and continued to stare. Ideas flashed through her mind that were almost as unlikely as they were awful, but she could not stop the sinking feeling in her gut. She simply stared, enraptured by her own creeping guilt.

Eventually she managed to pull herself away from the window and breathed deeply. Sweetie must have been sick. Or with her sister. Or walking to school that day. Lots of ponies liked being out in the summer sun.

The oppressively hot summer sun and the sticky, sweaty humidity.

Silver chewed her lip and thumped her head against the window. Her fears and worries, temporarily assuaged, were back in force, and the hollow pit in her chest ached horribly. She turned, leaning against the window and the wall of the carriage. “Nnnng,” she groaned, clenching her eyes shut.

A heavy impact on the seat beside her jolted her up, almost knocking her head against the bar of the window. Silver gasped, her head snapping to look beside her. For the briefest of moments, Silver thought she saw white. Then in the next, her heart sank. “Oh,” she said. “It's you.”

“Well duh,” Diamond Tiara said, crossing her hind legs and getting comfortable. “Who else? What are you doing against that window, anyways? That thing is probably covered in germs.”

“... Nothing,” Silver said. She sighed again, leaning into the back of the seat. At least Diamond meant the ride to school was almost over. Unfortunately, it meant the rest of it was full of Diamond Tiara.

Diamond Tiara flipped her mane. “Well, whatever,” she said. “At least it's Friday. Ugh, why do four-day weeks always feel like they take longer than a normal week?” Silver didn't answer, so Diamond continued. “You're not grounded anymore, right?”

Silver hesitated. She could always lie, and say that her punishment had extended to the weekend. Eventually she admitted, “It's done tomorrow. I'm still grounded tonight.”

Diamond tutted loudly. “Boy, your parents sure are sticklers. Grounded for four days just because you went into some lousy room. Big whoop! It's not like anypony else went back there. I should know, I spent three days there.” She shivered and brushed a nonexistent scrap of something off her shoulder. “I'm still washing out the smell.”

“That wasn't the room; you just stink,” Silver muttered into the window.

“What?” Diamond asked.

“I said it was only supposed to be two,” Silver lied, “but it was supposed to be over the weekend. They moved it back and made it longer so I could spend time with Sweetie.”

Diamond pulled a face. “That's even worse. You got grounded for four days and had to spend three with Sweetie Belle. I take it back. Your parents aren't sticklers, they're just cruel.”

Silver rolled her eyes and scowled into the window. They were pulling into the school lot, thank goodness. “I chose to spend time with her,” Silver said. “So I could...” she struggled out the words, “get Sweetie to go into the back rooms.”

“Why?” Diamond asked. “Just yesterday you said she was practically ready to jump into The Phantom's mouth. Why would she need any extra convincing?”

Silver blinked and adjusted her glasses. “W-uh,” she stammered, “I-I mean, I didn't know that at first, obviously, and then, uh, I couldn't just back out.”

The carriage shuddered to a stop. Silver Spoon grabbed her saddlebag, slinging it over her back and shoving her way past Diamond Tiara.

“Whoa!” Diamond shouted as Silver knocked her back into the seat. “Watch it! What's your hurry?”

“School,” Silver snapped. She slipped down the hall as the other colts and fillies began to unpack from their seats, putting themselves between Silver and Diamond. Silver sighed. She was happy to put an end to the questioning. She was happy to be away from Diamond.

The students filed into the schoolhouse with an unmistakeable air of Friday-ness, parts both weary and gleeful. All save for Silver, who settled into her desk as she settled back into her funk. As unpalatable as she found Diamond these past few days, Silver had to admit that the filly made an excellent distraction from her bleak mood.

Today, at least, Silver had another distraction, although it was not a happy one. She craned her neck, searching the classroom for Sweetie Belle. There wasn't a scrap of white or pink to be seen. Silver watched the stream of students flowing in, but Sweetie wasn't among them either.

A few minutes later the school bell rang, signaling the beginning of class, but Sweetie Belle still had not arrived. Their teacher, an aged pegasus mare named Mrs. Strap, plodded to the front of the room.

“Books out, Foals,” she said in her usual gentle tone, “I know you're all excited for the weekend, but we have a busy day of reading, writing and arithmetic ahead of us!”

The dusty shuffle of two dozen desks and books being opened drowned out Silver's anguished groan. She searched the room once more, as though Sweetie might have smuggled in amid the crowd and sat at a different desk before Silver noticed her. She had not.

“... She must be sick,” Silver said.

“What?” Diamond whispered, looking back and Sweetie over her shoulder.

“What?” Silver asked in return.

“You said something,” Diamond said, rolling her eyes.

“No I didn't,” Silver lied.

“Something to share, fillies?” Mrs. Strap called out, tapping her hoof loudly on the floor. Both Silver and Diamond winced.

“No, Mrs. Strap,” they said in unison.

Mrs. Strap nodded. “Good,” she said. “We will be continuing our lesson on the 7th century After Founding. Please turn to page 237 of your textbooks...”

Diamond glowered at Silver, who turned away and let her head droop down.

Sweetie must be sick, Silver thought to herself once more. She adjusted her glasses. She would have been happy to end the train of thought there, but her mind ignored her wishes and carried on.

Sweetie was sick. Sick, as Silver had been sick this morning?The coincidence was undeniable. Silver told herself that it was unlike Sweetie, but she was unable to quell the voice inside her that said she had no idea how Sweetie would respond to this. After all, she had foolishly hoped that Sweetie would forgive her, and she had been wrong about that, too.

Deprived of Diamond Tiara's pestering, or any other distractions, Silver's mind lurked on all the worst possibilities. Some she wrote off out-of-hoof, of course, but other images lingered in her mind, try as she might to shoo them off. She wasn't certain if it was possible for a heart to break twice, but if it was hers was certainly on its way.

The cold pit returned in her chest, deeper and emptier than ever. She barely heard a word that Mrs. Strap said all morning, turning a page in her textbook only when she was called upon to read. Even then she floundered awkwardly as she tried to find their place, and bolted out the words so she could sit back down. By lunchtime she was exhausted from worrying alone.

Their release to the playground was sounded by the bell. Its heavy brass tolling struck Silver like a hammer as she slunk beneath it. She hung to the side to avoid being jostled by a crowd of animated colts and fillies making their way into the playground. Her legs felt like lead. She wanted to go home, and go to bed. She wondered idly if she could find some nice, quiet, shady place to nap through lunch. She wasn't hungry enough to bother eating.

She circled around behind the schoolhouse. The Whitetail Woods stretched out for miles behind it, and while the students were barred from going any further than the treeline, that didn't stop them from stretching the definition of treeline as much as possible on warmer days. Thankfully today was temperate, and most of the foals were happily eating and playing in the playground.

Silver could hardly hear them from back here. It was only in the silence that she realized what an awful din they had been making, how intolerable their noise was. The moment she sat in the shade she felt a tension drain away from her shoulders and neck. She breathed out and let her eyes drift shut.

“What are you doing here?” a raspy filly's voice demanded.

Silver Spoon groaned and opened an eye. Scootaloo loomed above her, silhouetted by the noonday sun. If Silver had still had the energy she might have felt intimidated by the filly, who had developed an undeniable brawn in the past two years. Silver sighed. “I just wanted to sit somewhere quiet,” she said. “It's a f...” she trailed off, and even she was unsure if she had thought better of snarking at Scootaloo or if she simply didn't care enough to finish. “I'm... sorry,” she said. “Am I in your way?”

Scootaloo blinked, clearly taken aback. Apple Bloom appeared beside her, wits intact and a suspicious frown on her face.

“We always have lunch here,” Apple Bloom said. “But... you can use another tree. If you're quiet.”

“Okay,” Silver said. She got to her hooves, a labourious project as her exhaustion set into her back and legs. Still, she managed to stand upright just long enough to stump her way to a nearby tree. She leaned against it, sliding away to the ground, and sighed once more. She neither noticed, nor would have cared about, Apple Bloom's lingering gaze on her.

Silver curled up in the shade. She tried to focus on the sound of the rustling leaves, and for a time it worked. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo were talking, but their voices were hushed and distant. Their conversation was an intense one, however, judging by how Scootaloo's murmurs gradually evolved into a mutter, and to a hiss. Even without trying, Silver was beginning to pick up snippets.

“We'll just go check on her after school,” Apple Bloom murmured

“Like that'll help! I mean yeah, okay, it'll help, but it's not like...” Scootaloo's hiss trailed off, leaving behind a pregnant pause. Silver's skin prickled as though she were being stared at, but he ignored it and listened closer. “We should do something.”

“It wouldn't make her feel any better,” Apple Bloom said flatly.

“I think it would.”

“Ah think it'd make you feel better.”

“Okay, so?” Scootaloo said defensively. “It wouldn't do any harm, and it'd be nice to do for her.”

“Not sure you'n Ah have the same definition of nice here, Scoots,” Apple Bloom retorted. “Anyhow, there's no point if it don't make Sweetie feel better.”

Silver's ear twitched, and she sat up. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo stopped sharply, staring at her. Silver stared back.

Scootaloo broke the stalemate. “Were you listening to us?” she demanded. “That was private!”

“I...” Silver said. She felt as though she should have a comeback, but all she could think to say was, “I'm sorry.” She looked down and rubbed her face before looking back up at the pair of fillies. “Are you talking about Sweetie Belle? Is she sick?”

“What's it to you?” Scootaloo asked. She flared her diminutive wings, an attempted threat that Silver might have found comical a few days ago. Even now Silver was far from intimidated.

Apple Bloom put a hoof on Scootaloo's shoulder and stepped around her. “That'll do, Scoots,” she said. She turned back to Silver and said, “We dunno. She just didn't come in. We think she might be, but...” the look on Apple Bloom's face told Silver everything she needed to know. Of course Sweetie Belle had told them.

Silver lowered her head. “Oh... okay,” she said. “Uh... When you see her, could you, um... I hope she's feeling okay.” She shuffled a hoof awkwardly along the ground.

Scootaloo snorted. “Yeah, right,” she said.

Apple Bloom stared at Silver for a while, shifting her jaw back and forth. Finally she said, “Tell her yourself.”

Silver's heart clutched for just a moment, but in truth she had expected little better. “Okay,” she said. “That's... fair.”

“No,” Apple Bloom said, shaking her head. “I'm serious. Tell her yourself. Come see her with us and let her know.”

“What?” Scootaloo asked.

“What?” Silver echoed. For a moment she felt nothing. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say she felt too many things. Her mind reeled in confusion from the sentiment. “Are you serious?”

“I'm with her, Bloom,” Scootaloo said. “Are you serious?”

“I am,” Apple bloom said. “If it looks like you just want to make fun of her we can always take it back. But I think we should give her the chance.”

“Why?” Scootaloo asked with a grimace. Apple Bloom merely gestured to Silver vaguely. Scootaloo followed her gesture, looking Silver Spoon up and down. “...She's a good liar,” Scootaloo said.

“Scoots,” Apple Bloom began, but Scootaloo threw up her hooves.

“But fine!” Scootaloo said. “If you want to!” She turned to Silver and added, “But I'll be keeping an eye on you.”

“R-really?” Silver said. “You'll really let me come see her?” If she was with Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, she could see Sweetie again. She still didn't believe it, even as Apple Bloom nodded her agreement. If Apple Bloom and Scootaloo took Silver, Silver could apologize—Sweetie might forgive her. She felt her heart begin to pound faster and faster as her body finally decided on excitement. She nearly danced. “Thank you!” she said. She had to fight the urge to grab Apple Bloom's hoof. She was full of a sudden and unbridled energy. “I'm supposed to be grounded today, but her house is on the way to mine...” she chewed her lip. “If... if things turn out okay, do you think maybe I could visit her for just a bit tonight, and then see her more tomorrow?”

Apple Bloom cocked an eyebrow. “Ah said you could see how she's doin', not hang out with her,” she said. “But that's Sweetie's choice t'make, not mahn. Jus' meet us in front of the schoolhouse after school and we'll go see her.” She looked up, over Silver's head, and her eyes narrowed. “An' don't bring her. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt, but Ah ain't dumb.”

“Huh?” Silver asked, looking over her shoulder. Her excitement faltered. Diamond Tiara was on her way over to them.

“There you are!” Diamond Tiara declared as she arrived. “I've been looking everywhere for you. You got lost in a crowd and you disappear for twenty minutes?” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh... hi, Diamond,” Silver said. Her excitement faded, but did not disappear. Not even Diamond could take this away from her. “I just came back her to sit in the shade.”

Diamond rolled her eyes even harder. “There's shade in the playground, you know,” she said. She huffed, looking around the small clearing between the treeline and the schoolhouse. “Still. Not bad here.”

“Ugh, great,” Scootaloo muttered.

Diamond's ears twitched, and she turned to Scootaloo. “Oh,” she said. “You two are here too.”

“You were lookin' right at us when you came here,” Apple Bloom said.

Diamond carried on as if Apple Bloom hadn't spoken at all. “What are you two doing back here?” she asked. “Nopony to play goody four-shoes for?”

“We always come back here!” Scootaloo said, flapping her wings so furiously she hovered for a moment, kicking up dust. “And we don't play goody four-shoes, we help out the younger colts and fillies!”

“Like we helped you out, once,” Apple Bloom added.

Diamond grimaced, brushing dirt off her forelegs. “Yeah, right,” she snorted. “Like you were serous two years ago. You're the same as back then. Well... you might have gotten a bit smarter, Apple Bloom,” she offered, with a smile that made Apple Bloom reel back. “But your friends haven't.”

Silver stepped forward, raising a hoof. “Uh, Diamond, I think that's—”

Diamond took a step towards, puffing out her chest like a proud pink pigeon. “Sweetie Belle sure fell for our trick like she would have two years ago.” She laughed. “Heck, she fell for it like a weanling would have. In fact I think I've met weanlings smarter than her.”

Now Silver's excitement faded. Or rather it froze, dropping into her stomach like a brick. “Diamond!” she hissed, grabbing the filly's shoulder. “Cut it out!”

“What's your problem?” Scootaloo demanded, jabbing Diamond in the chest.

Diamond swatted her hoof away. “Don't touch me,” she snarled. “And my problem is that you three take yourselves so seriously. You're all high and mighty about helping ponies do something they're supposed to do on their own, like everypony else! You prance around like you're so smart, but you're just dumb foals like the rest of them.”

“But not like you,” Apple Bloom said dryly.

Diamond Tiara smirked and flipped back her mane. “What can I say?” she said. “Some ponies are born to lead, and some ponies are born to follow... and some ponies are born stupid.”

“Diamond!” Silver said, shaking Diamond's shoulder. Diamond shook her off.

“Say hello to your little friend for me,” Diamond said with a sickeningly sweet smile and wave. “I'd ask you to tell me the look on her face, but it honestly couldn't be any better than the expression she had on when she finally figured out Silver had been playing her like a fiddle.”

Silver winced. “Please,” she begged.

“This was low even for you,” Scootaloo shouted over Silver. She leaped at Diamond. Apple Bloom held her back—though it was clear she was mulling it over herself.

“What's low was Sweetie Belle's ears,” Diamond laughed, turning her back on their pair. “She looked like somepony told her Hearthswarming was made up.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo fumed. “Come on, Scoots,” Apple Bloom said. “Ain't no point keepin' this up. Let's go eat lunch somwhere else. And you!” She pointed an accusatory hoof at Silver, who started back. “You can forget about comin' with us after school. You don't deserve t'see her.” She turned on her heel, pulling Scootaloo with her around the school house.

Once again, Silver's energy drained away. Her knees wobbled, and she leaned against a tree. The coldness inside returned. “Why did you do that?” she murmured.

“What?” Diamond asked. “Speak up.”

“Why did you do that?” Silver repeated, gesturing weakly in the direction Scootaloo and Apple Bloom had left in. “They didn't do anything to you!”

Diamond flipped her mane. “I like taking them down a peg now and then. Who cares? They don't.” She paused, and looked Silver up and down. “What's your problem, anyways? You've been moping all week. Being grounded can't be that bad; it's not like you haven't got anything to do in that room of yours.”

Silver blinked. Her mouth fell open. Somewhere deep inside of her that coldness turned hot; a mere spark of flame in a great cavern of ice. “Y-you...” she said. The flame grew and grew, until her belly boiled over with anger. “What's the matter with me!? What's the matter with you!?” She stood away from the tree, marching over to Diamond. To her credit, Diamond at least had the decency to appear shocked.

“Do you not pay attention? Or are you just stupid?” Silver demanded. She waved a hoof. “Nevermind, don't answer that. I already know the answer: It's both!”

“Wh-ah,” Diamond said, but Silver cut her off. It was Silver's turn to talk.

“What do you think is the problem, Diamond? I mean it—think! For once, think, about someone who isn't you. I've been moping all week—ever since we played the trick on Sweetie Belle. Don't you think maybe, just maybe, I feel absolutely awful about that?” She clutched her chest, her cheeks turning red with anger. “Why don't you feel bad about this too? How can you act like it's nothing? We crushed her, Diamond! You have no idea how hurt she was... how much it hurt to do it. She didn't deserve what we did. Nobody deserves that, but especially not her. She's just a sweet filly who's never done anything to us.”

“You—you're serious?” Diamond said, recovering herself. She laughed. “You actually feel bad? Over a dumb joke that she took too seriously? Why? I mean okay, maybe I took it too far with the fire charms, but come on.”

“Because she cared about me!” Silver shouted, jabbing Diamond's chest with a hoof. “Which is more than you ever did for me! Even though I've never done anything to her but be a jerk, even though she had no reason to trust me last weekend, when I lied to her, she believed me. When I said I wanted to try and get along, she thought I was serious. And she trusted me, and she believed in me...” Silver blinked through stinging, blurred eyes. She swallowed hard and fought down the tears.

“She was so nice to me,” Silver said. “She didn't laugh at me for being afraid of Phantom of the Opera. And she didn't think it was weird that I like to dance. She—she thought it was great! She even liked it when I was sarcastic!” Silver choked down a sob. “She liked me, and I... really liked her too. I really wanted to be her friend. I think I wanted to be her girlfriend.”

Silver swallowed again. The fire in her gut had burned down to coals. Subdued, but still white-hot. “She believed in me. She thought that I was brave, and funny, and smart, and special... and she made me believe it, too. But you ruined everything. I ruined everything, by not being brave enough to stand up to you and come clean. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being a jerk. I'm sick of you.”

The words hung in the air. Tears rimmed Silver's eyes, threatening to fall, but she held them back. She wouldn't give Diamond the satisfaction. The school bell began to ring, and Silver turned away from Diamond.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Silver Spoon was only vaguely aware of Mrs. Strap's afternoon lessons. Even when called on to read she moved automatically. She had no room for awareness; she was too preoccupied by an immaculate misery.

Eventually the day ended. The students filed out, laughing and chatting happily in anticipation of the weekend. Some made for the school carriage, eager to get home and unwind. Others met with friends and headed into the town, anxious to find some fun or mischief—or both, as was likely the case.

All except for Silver. She hung behind in the schoolhouse, making a show of gathering her things while she waited for the others to go. Even Diamond left, although Silver did not see where the pink filly had gone.

When everypony else had left Silver finally made her way outside, looking around warily for anypony who might start an unwanted conversation. There was little to worry about there, of course. Apart from Diamond, nopony had ever really been interested in talking to her. True to form, nopony approached her. If they saw her at all, they made room for her to walk unmolested or, in the case of Scootaloo and Apple Bloom, glared threateningly at her.

She could no longer find it in herself to be hurt by their glares. Her misery had cooled, congealing into a sticky black weight that hung on her heart and made everything taste like smoke. She returned them a sad look and turned down the path through town.

On an ordinary day the walk home would have taken no more than fifteen minutes. Of course, on a normal day Silver would have taken the carriage. Today, however, her hooves dragged with every step. Even going right home, as she still knew she must, she took twice as long. Perhaps even three times. She would have to apologize to Kelson. Or perhaps she would let him think she had deliberately hung back, and risk him extending her grounding. It was not as if she would do anything aside from sleep all weekend either way.

As at school, she was far too consumed by her own desolation to notice her surroundings—for example, the muffled shuffling sounds coming from behind the front door. She twisted the door handle and the door flew open, propelled by the weight of a massive Newfoundland Dog. Nova collapsed on top of Silver, knocking the air out of her lungs with a loud wuffle.
` Silver gunted from shock. “Nova?” she asked, coughing.

“Wurf!” Nova responded. He placed a paw on Silver's chest and began to lick her face, refusing to stop until Silver began to giggle from the tickling.

“Nova!” Silver chastised. She sighed and wrapped the dog in a hug. Her funk had faded away enough for her to think again, and she said, “Were you waiting her for me because I was late?”

Nova yawned widely.

Silver chuckled sadly and pressed her face into Nova's hackles. “I'm sorry, Nova,” she said. “Thanks for being here... you really do know whenever something is wrong, huh? I was late 'cause... I didn't have the energy to walk faster.”

Nova groaned inquisitively and sat up, pulling Silver up along with him.

“I got into a fight with Diamond Tiara,” Silver explained. “I know I've been mad at her all week, and I know it's for the best, but I told her I didn't want to be friends anymore. I know she wasn't a very good friend, but...” She swallowed as a lump began to form in her throat. “She was the only friend I had!”

Nova barked, and in spite of herself Silver laughed. “I'm sorry, you're right,” she said. “You're my friend too, Nova. You're my best friend.” Her smile faded from quivering lips. “You're my only friend, now.” Before she knew it, tears were streaming down her face. Try as she might, she could not stop them. “I... I had a chance with S-weetie Belle, but I p-pushed her away. And now I pushed... Di-Diamond Tiara aw-way too...” she sobbed, pressing her face into Nova's fur. All the tears from that afternoon—from the whole week—flooded through, soaking Nova's coat and Silver's cheeks. She pressed her face into him to muffle her choking and wailing, as if the thick black fur could stop the hurting. Vaguely, distantly, she felt a brawny pair of hooves lift her gently onto Nova's back. Nova walked, carrying the still-sobbing Silver along with him.

Eventually the tears stopped, long after Nova had settled down. Silver lay still for a while. She had spent as much energy as tears, and now all she was was tired. Too tired to move. Too tired to care. To her dismay, however, she was not too tired to be sad.

She sighed and breathed deeply. In addition to the smell of wet dog, the vaguely salty musk of Kelson was with her. She turned her head and peered up at him. Nova had taken her to her room, and Kelson was perched on the edge of her bed, shuffling through records.

“Hallo, Silver,” he said. “Just tryin' to find summat to put on to make you feel better.” He scratched his head. “Can't say as I know what any of 'em are, though. More of a tin whistle and squeezebox stallion, meself.”

“Hi, Kelson,” Silver said. She sniffled and rested her head against Nova's. “... How much did you hear?”

“The lot of it,” Kelson said. “Nova ain't a quiet dog, an' I came to see what all the hubbub was.” He put down the records and ran a hoof through Silver's mane. “I ain't gonna ask you what'cha didn't tell us for, cause I think we both know. But'cha could've done, y'know.”

“I know,” Silver said. “But... I don't see how it would have helped at all anyways.”

“Aye, that'd surprise you,” Kelson said, bobbing his head back and forth. “You never know what it'll do until you try, aye? Why don't we talk now?”

Silver sighed. “Why bother?” She asked, turning away from him. “The damage is already done. I know what I did, but there's no way for me to take it back.”

“What'd you do, then?” Kelson asked. Silver turned to stare at him and he lifted a hoof, adding, “I know y'pushed away all your friends. What I'm askin' is, what'd you do t'do that?”

“I,” Silver said, staring down at Nova. “I told Diamond Tiara that I didn't want to be her friend anymore, because... because she kept on giving me bad ideas, and making me do bad stuff and I finally realized it. Or... maybe I just finally got tired of not standing up to her.” The lump was returning, but she fought it down. “And I pushed Sweetie away by hurting her, and pulling a prank on her, because I wasn't brave enough to stop the prank until it was too late.”

Kelson considered this, shifting his jaw back and forth. “Something, ain't it?” he commented. “Alright, then. So if’n you could go back, do it again... well, no, y'can't. So for next time, then? How'd you stop it? What would you do different?”

Silver whimpered and fought back tears. “I'd try to be brave. I'd tell Sweetie Belle about the prank right away. Or... or tell Diamond that it was cruel, and we had to stop.”

“There you go, then,” Kelson said. “You'd talk to them, aye? So maybe talkin' does solve some problems.”

“Maybe next time,” Silver said. “But it's too late to change anything.” she turned away from Kelson again. “There's nothing I can do to bring Sweetie back.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Kelson said. “Talkin' does solve problems, after all. Aye, she might not want to listen. You might ‘ave to give Sweetie some time. I'll bet'cha Diamond would be willing to listen right off, though.”

Silver's sadness flared into anger once again, and she buried her face into Nova's fur. “I don't want to have her back!” she snapped. “She was awful. She never cared about me, she just wanted somepony to help her do her dirty work. Or to hold up a mirror so she could preen herself.”

There was a pause while Silver fumed. “Aye?” Kelson asked. “Seems like a lot of effort to go through, then. She was clean outta breath. Poor thing must've ran the whole way here.”

Another pause. “What?” Silver asked, pulling her face out of Nova.

“Wee Miss Diamond,” Kelson said. “Showed up her near on forty minutes a'fore you did. Had to stop her sittin' on the front step like a dog to wait for you.” He gestured to the door, and Silver followed her hoof. “She told me about your fight. I've 'ad her waitin' outside your door... figured you might need a minute before you was wanting to see her. Y'can come in now, Wee Miss Diamond,” he shouted.

The door creaked open, and Diamond slunk through.

Silver sat up, slipping down off of Nova's back and onto the bed. She stared at Diamond, unsure of what to think. So she simply folded her hooves and asked, “What are you doing here?”

If nothing else, Diamond had found the decency to look rueful. She pawed at the floor. “I... never realized how upset you were,” she said. “I didn't want to say anything at School because I know you hate having ponies pay attention to you, and I didn't want us to make a scene or anything, and I knew if I tried to follow you after School you'd lock yourself in here, so I thought if I could beat you home...”

Silver Spoon blinked. She dropped back into Nova, who was turned to appraise Diamond. Judging by his blasé expression he was withholding judgment. Silver followed his lead. Still...

“Do you... really feel that way about me?” Diamond Tiara asked.

Silver opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. She looked away. Eventually she managed to say, “Yes. We always do what you want to do. You never ask what I want. And... maybe I haven't had a whole lot of objections, but it seems like you just assume I'll always march to your beat. I felt like I was just... your sidekick. Like a sidekick, and I could have been anypony. Like I wasn't important to you as a pony. You didn't even know why I was upset all week.”

Diamond stared down at her hooves, as though inspecting them. Nova's ears perked up, and he snuffled at the air.

“I guess I do do that,” Diamond said. She was silent for a while. Her mouth hung open, brow furrowed as she grappled with her words. Eventually she said, “I'm sorry.”

Silver blinked again, and Diamond Tiara continued.

“You're right,” Diamond said, “I did do all that. But... it isn't because I don't care about you. It's because I thought that's what you wanted. Or at least that you were okay with it.” She waved her hooves vaguely. “When we were younger you were always so... shy, and you hated getting into fights. You were always so noncommittal about everything, so I just thought... that you wanted me to make the decisions on my own.”

Nova had begun to pant happily. Silver rubbed her neck. “I guess...” she said softly, “I guess I kind of did, at first. I didn't really do much to make you think otherwise...”

“I shouldn't have taken it for granted, though,” Diamond insisted. “I should have known that you might have changed your mind, and asked once in a while. Or maybe...” she grimaced and looked up. “Maaaaybe I should have asked you to take the lead more.” She took a slow step towards Silver, as if afraid she would snap again, and said, “I really do care about you, Silver. You're my best friend. I'm guess... I’m just a pretty lame friend. I’m sorry.”

It was Silver's turn to look at her hooves. She sighed, and leaned back into Nova. “I guess,” she said, “Maybe you're not as bad as all that. I mean, you apologized, so I guess that counts for something. But, maybe from now on...” She laughed weakly and adjusted her glasses. “Well, I guess I'm still really bad at having my own ideas.”

Diamond giggled. She trotted to the bed and put a hoof on Silver's shoulder. “I don't know,” she said. “You stood up to me. I think you're pretty good at it.”

Silver smiled and adjusted her glasses. “Thanks,” she said.

Diamond smiled back. “Are we friends again?”

“Yeah,” Silver said, rolling her eyes. “Friends.” She paused for a moment, then hugged Diamond.

“I'm glad,” Diamond said. “Cause can I just say, as your friend—Sweetie Belle? Seriously?” She waved her hooves when Silver scowled at her and added, “I’m sorry! I just… Don’t get it.”

“She was... nice,” Silver said. “I liked being around her. And she made me feel... well, she made me feel kind of like a jerk, to be honest.”

Diamond cocked an eyebrow. “And that's a good thing?” she asked.

Silver laughed weakly and turned to snuggle into Nova's fur. “It was with her,” she said. “She didn't do anything to make me feel bad about it. That's just it. She made me want to be better. She liked me even though I'd always been mean to her. Once I realized just how much we'd been hurting her, and Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom... I wanted to be the pony who she thought I could be.” She sighed, looking down. “I don't want to be a jerk.”

“You’re not a jerk,” Diamond Tiara said. “We’re not… that bad.”

“Aren’t we?” Silver asked. “We make fun of ponies all the time. What we did to Sweetie was really mean, and I wouldn’t have even thought about it if she hadn’t been nice to me. How many other ponies feelings did we hurt?”

Diamond Tiara hunched her shoulders and looked at the ceiling. “That’s… those three don’t care.”

“Yes they do,” Silver insisted. “We hurt Sweetie really bad, Diamond. And we probably hurt a lot of other ponies just as bad. Or worse.”

“We were just… having fun,” Diamond floundered.

“Nopony else was,” Silver said.

They were silent, for a time. The only sound was Nova panting, and Kelson casually flipping through records.

“How did we wind up like this, Diamond?” she asked. “Weren't we supposed to be better than this, once?”

“I don't know,” Diamond said. “I thought we... being good is hard. We tried.”

“Did we really?” Silver asked.

Once again they were silent.

“No,” Diamond finally conceded.

“Well then let’s try, this time,” Silver said. Diamond peered at her and Silver said, “Let's actually try to be good. Lets try to make it up to everypony. For their sake, instead of just doing stuff for us.”

“Like... what?” Diamond asked, wringing her hooves.

“I dunno,” Silver said with a shrug. “Like... I dunno. We should at least stop playing pranks and making fun of ponies. Maybe we could apologize to everypony?”

“To Sweetie Belle?”

Silver blushed. “To everypony,” she said. “I don't want to do something just for Sweetie because I like her, I want to actually be good. But... yes, I want to apologize to Sweetie. And I will.” She rubbed her forelegs and sighed. “Just... not for a little while.”

“I'd do it sooner a'fore later,” Kelson offered.

Silver turned to Kelson and shook her head. “No,” she said. “I... don't think I can right now. If Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had brought me, maybe, but... I'm all out of chances.”

“If you don't talk to her soon, sure.” Kelson returned. “But if you apologize to her right off? I think she'll forgive you.”

Silver was unconvinced, but she faltered. “You... really think so?” she asked.

“You forgave me,” Diamond Tiara pointed out.

“That's different,” Silver insisted. “I... wanted to be your friend, I just didn't think you actually cared about me.”

“Aye,” Kelson said. “An' so does Sweetie. Right now you're hurtin', and feelin' guilty, and you want’a make things right. I can guarantee you that she feels the same way. Did the whole while. Right now, more'n anything in the whole world she wants you to apologize, so she can go back to lovin' you.” He grinned. “Never been a stallion alive who could tell when a mare was smitten with him. Why should mares know any better?”

Silver's face flushed. “You think... she likes me?” she asked. “Even now?”

“She loved you then,” he said. “I figure if’n you apologize, and if’n you show her how much you mean it, you'll get another chance.”

Silver rubbed her chest. The tar on her heart seemed to melt away, leaving it free to beat once again. And beat it did, as hard and strong as she'd ever felt. The warmth of excitement spread through her. “But how can I show her?” she asked.

“You know,” Kelson said. “Y'just gotta speak to her heart, aye? Tell her a way that means somethin' to her.”

“A way that means something to her,” Silver echoed. A imagine began to form in her mind. A mask, a song, a dance. She imagined a symphony of sorries, an opera of apologies. She imagined a Phantom, dark but not evil, and a beautiful actress. Her heart pounded in her chest, so hard it threatened to make her swoon. Or perhaps it was just that she had not eaten all day. She grinned from ear to ear. “I know how,” she said.

Chapter 7: One-Legged Filly

Chapter 7: One-Legged Filly

The sun hung over Sweet Apple Acres, just below its zenith. It beat down over the trees below like a hammer. The heat made the air shimmer, giving the orchard an unreal, dreamlike quality. Somewhere in the unseen distance an insect droned ceaselessly.

Silver Spoon walked the path through the orchard. Diamond Tiara trailed behind, dragging her hooves through the dirt. The heat was unrelenting.

The path curved sharply beneath a small cluster of trees. The shade over the path was a welcome refuge, and both fillies agreed to rest beneath it without ever sharing a word. Silver sat down against a tree. Diamond Tiara removed her namesake accessory and mopped her brow.

Save for the insect's droning, the orchard was silent. Silver felt too sick to speak. Her guts were twisted into knots, her shoulders were tense and aching, and her eyes were sore and puffy. She had slept horribly the previous night, and what sleep she had managed had been wracked with anxiety. Would her plan work? Would she even have the chance to try it?

Silver sighed and took off her glasses, rubbing her eyes. She tried her best to shake her doubts. The temptation to simply sit back, to let Diamond Tiara take control again, was overwhelming, but she knew she couldn't. She could guess what Diamond's opinion of all of this was. She put her glasses back on and looked at Diamond. The pink filly was scowling as she fluffed her limp mane.

“So,” Diamond said, still struggling to hoof-comb her mane into some semblance of a style, “I know I said that I'd try to be a nicer pony to the Cutie Mark Clo—Crusaders, but I didn't expect you'd want to go see them the very next day.” She sagged and wiped more sweat off her brow. “Couldn't we have at least waited until a school day, instead of walking through an orchard in the middle of summer? I can't believe anypony chooses to do this for a living.”

Silver rubbed her neck. “You heard Kelson,” she said. “I want... I need to do this as soon as possible.”

“Kelson said talk to Sweetie, not them,” Diamond said. “Why aren't we going to Sweetie's house? Or Carousel Boutique?”

“I need their help,” Silver said with a shrug.

Diamond was silent for a moment, focused on wearing the most profound look of confusion she could manage. “Why?” she asked. “You can't ask anypony else?”

“Can you get Sweetie to trust you long enough to come out and let me do this?” Silver pointed out.

Diamond shrugged and rolled her eyes, but didn't argue. “What about her sister?” she asked.

It was Silver's turn to roll her eyes. She adjusted her glasses and fixed Diamond Tiara with a level stare. “Yes. I'm going to walk up to one of the heroes of Equestria, who has fought dragons, changelings, Discord, and who knows what else, tell her that I broke her little sister's heart, and ask for her help.”

Diamond blanched and looked away. “Okay,” she said, “maybe not.” Her frown persisted. “Were you always this sarcastic?” she asked.

“Yes,” Silver replied. She watched Diamond's expression droop, and sighed. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I'm nervous about this too.”

“I'm not... nervous,” Diamond Tiara said. She flipped her mane once, then scowled at its limpness and flipped it again. “I'm just...” She struggled to produce a word.

“It'll be weird,” Silver said. “We've been mean for them for so long... trying to be nice to Sweetie wasn't easy, and it didn't come all at once. And they're not gonna be happy to see us...” She rubbed her chest. “All of this depends on Apple Bloom and Scootaloo being willing to listen to us.”

Diamond was quiet for a moment. “If being nice involves caring how other ponies feel about me, I don't think I like it,” she said.

On that point, at least, they agreed. Silver sighed and rubbed her shoulders. They felt cold in spite of the heat. “Well,” she said, getting to her hooves, “we should probably get it over with, then.”

The Cutie Mark Crusaders' Clubhouse was just around the bend, shaded under a small copse. It had been expanded in recent years to accommodate the crusaders' guests and friends. The porch had been extended, acquiring an awning and a small shed on the far side of it, and a second floor had been added up the tree.

“So we just go up there and knock?” Diamond asked.

“You do,” Silver replied. “I'm going to hide nearby for a while.”

Diamond gawked at her. “This was your idea!” she said. “And you're just going to hide while I do all the talking?”

“What if Sweetie is in there with them?” Silver asked. “If she knows I'm planning something, then it'll fail right away. I just need you to get Apple Boom and Scootaloo out here without her so I can talk to them. Okay?”

Diamond Tiara looked her up and down, regarding her with suspicion—or perhaps just exasperation. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes.

As Diamond trotted up the ramp to the clubhouse, Silver found a broad apple tree nearby and slipped behind it. Once she was sure she couldn't be seen, she poked her head around the tree and watched.

Diamond Tiara knocked on the door. Silver was close enough to hear a muffled shuffling from within, and a murmur that sounded like, “Be right there!” After a moment the door opened, and Scootaloo's head poked through. A moment later the door swung shut. It stopped what Silver guessed, judging by how Diamond's head reeled back, was a hoof's width from closing. The door opened and closed a few more times before Diamond shouted, “Would you cut that out!?”

“Why?” Scootaloo demanded. “You probably just came to make fun of us again.”

“No, I'm not!” Diamond said. “I have better things to do with my weekend than make fun of a bunch of...” Silver glowered at Diamond from behind her tree. Whether Diamond felt Silver's glare or thought better of it, she managed to stop herself.

“So why are y'here, then?” Apple Bloom asked from behind the doorway. “Need help with your cutie mark again?”

“No,” Diamond seethed. “I got that figured out the first time, thank you...” she seemed to struggle for a moment, and added, “Thank you. For that. I don't think I ever did.”

Scootaloo paused, looking behind the doorway. “What do you want, Diamond?” she asked. Her tone was harsh, but she let the door swing open further.

“To talk,” Diamond said. “To you and Apple Bloom... is Sweetie Belle here?”

“No,” Scootaloo said. “She didn't want to come out today.” she folded her hooves. “I wonder why.”

Relief and regret mingled in Silver Spoon's gut. She stepped out from behind the tree. “That's good,” she said. She adjusted her glasses and mounted the ramp to the clubhouse.

“You're here too?” Scootaloo groaned. “Of course. Diamond wouldn't go anywhere without her minion.”

Silver slowed her pace. “Well,” she said, happy that Scootaloo's furious gaze was not on her and stirring her guilt for long, “I'm, um, actually—”

“She's not my minion, Scootaloo,” Diamond said. “She's my friend.” She sighed frustratedly and added, “even if it didn't seem that way.”

Silver Spoon lingered on the steps as Scootaloo prepared another retort, but Apple Bloom put a hoof on her shoulder. “Alright, so yer' both here. Ah can guess why.” She looked back and forth between Silver and Diamond. “Bit of a turnaround since yesterday though, ain't it?”

“It's Silver's idea,” Diamond said, waving her hoof flippantly.

“I know what yesterday looked like,” Silver said, “but I really was worried about Sweetie. I'm sorry about what I did to her. I know we went too far...” She rubbed her cheek and adjusted her glasses. “We went to far a long time ago. I want to make it better.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo exchanged a long, pregnant glance. “We wanted to give you a chance yesterday, Silver,” Apple Bloom said. “You blew it pretty bad. How do we know we can trust you?”

“Because...” Silver said. The word lingered in the air, unconnected, unanswered, as Silver searched for a reason. “You can't,” she admitted finally.

“Then why should we?” Scootaloo demanded.

“I don't know,” Silver said. “You probably shouldn't. I wouldn't. But... I'm asking you to, just this once.” She looked at her hooves, and then back up. She held herself proud and tall, and stepped forward. “but if there's anything, anything at all I can do to prove to you that I'm telling the truth, I'll do it.”

There was another pause, and Scootaloo asked, “...Anything?”

“Anything,” Silver said. A smile crossed Scootaloo's face that made Silver sure she was about to regret it.

“Stand on one leg,” Scootaloo said.

Silver Spoon reared up, tottering unsteadily on her back leg. She reeled back and forth for a moment before finally finding her balance, and stared Scootaloo in the eye.

“Wow,” Scootaloo said, looking up at Silver. “Jump up and down!”

Silver Spoon began to hop in place, leaning precariously with each jump. She could feel her balance slide to and fro beneath her, and with each successive hop she lost it a little bit more. She held her forelegs out, flailing for support.

“Pat your head!” Scootaloo demanded. “and rub your bell—”

“Arright Scoots, that's enough,” Apple Bloom cut in. She took hold of Scootaloo's shoulder once more and pulled her back from the doorway. “You've had your fun. You can stop now, Silver.”

Silver Spoon breathed a sigh of relief and got down on four hooves. “Thank you,” she said.

Apple Bloom regarded Silver with no small amount of caution. “That didn't prove anything,” she said. “You proved how far yer' willin' to go for a joke last weekend. So there's just one thing I'm gonna ask you: why now? Ain't like nopony was nice to you before.”

“Because...” Silver Spoon rubbed her foreleg and looked at Diamond. “Because I wasn't brave enough to stand up for myself. I think I always wanted to be better than I was, but I was always afraid to step away from Diamond. So I convinced myself that I was being good. Or at least, as good as anypony else.”

She bit her lip and fidgeted with her glasses. “The more time I spent with Sweetie Belle, the worse I felt, because... she made me remember what a jerk I was. But, she thought I could be brave enough. So I want to be, for her…” Silver swallowed hard, and said, “Because I love her.”

“Sounds to me like she only thought that way 'cause you lied to her,” Apple Bloom replied.

Silver winced. The ache in her chest turned to a throbbing. “M...maybe,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “But I want the lie to be real.”

“So that she'll like you again?” Scootaloo asked. “So what happens if she still says no? Are you gonna go back to picking on us again?”

Silver shook her head. “No,” she said. “I just...” she pawed nervously at the floor, “don't want to be mean anymore.”

Apple Bloom stared at Silver for a long moment. Silver stared back, neck hung low and humble. Next Apple Bloom turned to Diamond and looked inquisitively at her.

“I'm working on it,” Diamond Tiara said coldly. “If Silver wants it, then that's good enough for me.”

Apple Bloom shifted her jaw back and forth. “Arright,” she said. She stood aside, holding open the door. “Come on in.”

The interior of the clubhouse had been expanded as well—the shed outside was in fact a new wing—making room for a variety of furniture. A large table sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by a variety of chairs in various levels of comfort, and covered in hastily-strewn papers. The new wing held a makeshift lounge area, with a sofa, two easy chairs, and a plush rug to complete the image.

It was far from professional, or even particularly well put-together, but as Silver looked around she found herself smiling faintly. There was a homely sort of charm to it, an eclectic mix of the three fillies' tastes. The more she looked, the more Silver imagined she could spot which were Sweetie's. Her smile faded.

“How is she?” Silver asked quietly.

Apple Bloom took a seat at the table, gesturing for Silver to sit across from her. “Can't say,” she said. “ain't good though. She didn't wanna see us yesterday. Said she wanted to be left alone. We figured, prob'bly best to give 'er some time.” She shrugged.

“We caught a glimpse of her,” Scootaloo added, sitting beside Apple Bloom. “Through Rarity's living room. She looked pretty awful.”

Silver nodded and sighed. In truth, she hadn't expected much better. “I guess it's probably for the best you didn't let me come with you, then,” she said. “I doubt seeing me would have made her feel much better.”

“Maybe,” Apple Bloom said. “Maybe not. Truth is, Ah wouldn't have let you in if it weren't so obvious Sweetie Belle's still got somethin' for ya. She'd'a been hurt, sure, but if Sweetie Belle was upset enough to want to forget about you, it wouldn't be hittin'er this hard. Ah figure she wants you to apologize much as you want to apologize.”

Silver laughed, though she couldn't bring herself to smile just yet. “You should talk to Kelson,” she said. “He said exactly the same thing.”

“I dunno,” Scootaloo said, folding her forelegs. “If it was me, I wouldn't be too ready to forgive and forget.”

“Well, Scootaloo,” Apple Bloom said, “that's because yer... hmm. What's the opposite of romantic?”

“Smart?” Scootaloo offered.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes and turned back to Silver. “Point is,” she said, “Sweetie wants you to apologize. You want to apologize. So I'm kinda curious what you're doin' here, instead of over there.”

“Because I want to apologize right,” Silver said. “Sweetie deserves more than just walking up to her door and saying I'm sorry. I want...” She waved her hooves vaguely. “I want to show her how much she meant to me. And that not everything I said to her was a lie. And... well, you said it yourself. She's not really happy right now.” She adjusted her glasses. “I need to do something big for her.”

A faint smile was spreading across Apple Bloom's lips. “Arright,” she said. “I'm thinkin' you've already got an idea?”

Silver nodded and adjusted her glasses again. “On the first night we spent together, I told her a story. It was a story that I've only ever told once or twice before.” She couldn’t help but smile and blush faintly at the memory. “It's... embarrassing. But she sort of cornered me into saying it.”

Diamond Tiara cocked an eyebrow. “I find it hard to imagine Sweetie Belle cornering anypony into anything,” she said. She withered under a glare shot by Scootaloo and Apple Bloom and added, “It just doesn't seem like something she'd want to do.”

“She didn't mean to,” Silver said. “I just had to tell it to keep her from... getting suspicious. But it was true. I told her about how I was afraid of... ehn... I have a phobia of...” she waggled her hooves. “Look, details don't matter here.”

“If it affects yer plan, Ah think they do,” Apple Bloom pointed out. Her smile had widened a bit, and Silver couldn't help but think she was enjoying this. Still, she was right. Sweetie's plan hinged around it. Even if she didn't tell them now, they would be able to piece it together on their own.

“Okay,” Silver said. “I'm afraid of... The Phantom of the Opera!” She bolted out the words, covering her eyes and groaning. “It's dumb, I know. But she's one of the only ponies I've ever told. And she knows just how afraid of it I am, because she saw the way I acted around Diamond, when she was The Phantom.” She peered at Diamond out of the corner of her eye and rubbed her shoulders. “I knew it was Diamond, and I was still terrified of her. Sweetie Belle had to pull me off the ground so that we could get out of there. There's no way I'd humiliate myself that much for a prank.

Diamond blinked and leaned back from Silver, fixing her with a concerned, and more than a bit confused, expression. “You were afraid of me?” She asked. “Why didn't you say anything when we were coming up with the prank?”

Silver shrugged. “I was more afraid that you'd make fun of me if you knew,” she said.

Diamond's brow furrowed, and she looked down at the table. “Jeeze,” she said.

Scootaloo coughed awkwardly, and Apple Bloom tapped on the table. Even Diamond was silent, digesting the statement.

Silver adjusted her glasses. “Sweetie's more important to me than what I'm afraid of,” She said. She paused for a moment and then added, “I care enough about her that I want to change, so I can be happy with her, even though it'll be hard.” She reached out and put a hoof on Diamond's shoulder. “So I want to show her that, for her, I'd even face my fear of The Phantom.”

“You're not gonna try and be a hero or something, are you?” Scootaloo asked, squinting at Silver. “Set up a little play fight and rescue Sweetie?”

“No,” Silver said. “That's what got me into this in the first place. I was too afraid to just tell her, but I thought that if I was her hero, maybe she’d forgive me.” she shook her head. “I'm going to be honest with her. She's going to know that it's me, and that it's a show. Because I'm going to sing for her.”

Silver explained her plan. She went over every detail with them, although their own part would be relatively small in the grand scheme of things. All she needed them to do was to convince Sweetie to come to where Silver would be waiting for her. The irony of the situation was not lost on her: They would be doing as she had that past weekend. she could only hope that the results would be better.

The more she explained, the more a kind of anxiety swirled inside of her gut. It was tempered with excitement, however. The more she explained, the wider the smile on Apple Bloom's face became. By the end of it, Apple Bloom's smile very nearly split her face in half.

“Wow,” Apple Bloom said. “Gotta hand it to ya Silver, that's one heck of a plan. Are ya gonna be able to pull it off?”

“It's... been a while,” Silver admitted. “But hopefully the feeling will make it not matter so much if I'm not that good at it...”

“Well ah think it's a great idea anyways,” Apple Bloom said. She cradled her face in her hooves and sighed dreamily. “Tell you what, if a colt did that for me? Heck, if a filly did that for me I'd be willing to give it a shot.”

Silver couldn't help but smile, ducking her head down. “You think so?” she asked.

“Well, maybe not a filly,” Apple Bloom admitted, rolling her head back. She grinned. “But it's still awful romantic. Especially for Sweetie.”

Silver smiled wider. “Thanks,” she said. Apple Bloom's validation eased her anxiety, and bolstered her confidence in the plan. Although there was a lingering anxiety in her belly, she wrote it off as simple nerves.”

Scootaloo snorted. She had leaned back in her chair, setting her back hooves on the table and folding her forelegs across her chest. “Yeah, well,” she said. “I'd just go and apologize to her, personally.”

“It's not like she's not gonna apologize,” Diamond said haughtily. “She's just trying to make it special for Sweetie.”

“You two are like, our worst enemies,” Scootaloo said. “Or at least, you were. Trying to apologize at all is pretty big.”

“Big isn't the same as special,” Diamond retorted.

Silver coughed gently and nudged Diamond. “It's okay, Diamond,” she said.

“I don't think Sweetie is gonna quibble over the difference,” Scootaloo said, bringing her hooves down in front of her.”

Diamond smirked and snorted. “Quibble?” she asked. “That's a pretty 'special' word for you, isn't it?”

“Diamond!” Silver snapped.

Diamond jolted, looking between Silver and Scootaloo. Her expression was a roulette of indignation, confusion, shame and frustration. She settled on indignation for a moment, flavoured with a sprinkle of pride, but Silver glared harder at her. Shame and frustration won out and she said, “...Sorry.” She coughed.

Apple Bloom coughed as well. Her smile had faded, but it wasn't completely gone. She retained a knowing, approving sort of smile when she looked at Silver. “Well, far as that goes,” she said, “Maybe it's best you two head out. You needin' anything else from us, Silver?”

Silver shook her head. “No,” she said, rubbing her stomach. “I, uh... think as long as you understand, and you think you can do it, then that's all I wanted to ask you for.” She adjusted her glasses and added, “Um, you do think you can do it, right?”

“Don't worry,” Scootaloo said, waving a hoof flippantly. “She'll be there. Just make the most of it.”

The four fillies got to their hooves as their makeshift meeting came to a close. Silver adjusted her glasses again, and Diamond flipped her mane, but Apple Bloom crossed around the table and set herself in front of Silver Spoon. Silver blinked, then looked over her shoulder and back at Apple Bloom. “Do, uh... you need anything?” she asked.

Apple Bloom looked her up and down, and smiled. “Naw,” she said. “Truth is, after everythin' that happened couple years ago, I always sort'a hoped you an' Diamond could be friends with us. I'm glad yer’ givin’ it your best.” She clapped a hoof on Silver's shoulder. “Y'might not be who Ah'da picked for Sweetie,” she said, “but Ah think that filly's got good sense. Yer’ a better pony than Ah figured, an' Ah'm sorry for misjudgin' you.”

“Me too,” Scootaloo admitted. “Well. You mostly deserved it, but still.”

Silver laughed. “Gracious of you,” she said. Amazingly, Scootaloo grinned back at her. Silver turned back to Apple Bloom and said, “Thank you. Really. It... means a lot to me that you're willing to do this.”

Apple Bloom simply smiled and shrugged. The four ponies said their goodbyes, and Silver and Diamond departed. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo would have some planning of their own to do, it seemed, which suited Silver Spoon just fine. There was one more step left before she could bring the plan to fruition. She rubbed her stomach and rolled her shoulders to relieve the dull, anxious ache within them. As she trotted down the ramp beside Diamond, she found herself wondering if it was lingering guilt, fear over what was to come next, or something else entirely. A strange thought that wouldn't quite crystalize lingered at the back of her mind. She shook her head, chasing the thought away, and adjusted her glasses.

Diamond Tiara glowered up at the sky. “Ugh,” she said. “I forgot the sun existed. Do you have anything else you need to do for this, or can we find somewhere with air conditioning?”

“I do,” Silver said. “But you can go without me.”

Diamond peered sidelong at her. “I'm not just gonna leave my best friend to do all this on her own,” she said. “You asked for my help, so you're getting it. I can... try to stop complaining for you.”

Silver smiled and chuckled. “No,” she said. “It's not that. It's just that you probably should head off. It'll be harder to talk to the next pony if it's the two of us... and honestly, I feel like... I should face this alone, anyways.” she could not quite explain why, but that felt significant. Important. Diamond and Silver had both needed to apologize to the Cutie Mark Crusaders, but this was a pony who Silver had hurt in a more personal, direct way.

Diamond's expression was suspicious. “...Why?” she asked. “Who do you need to see?”

Silver breathed deep and stood up straight, hoping that a prideful pose would reduce, or at least hide, her fear. “I'm going to walk up to one of the heroes of Equestria, who has fought dragons, changelings, Discord, and who knows what else, tell her that I broke her little sister's heart, and ask for her help.”

***

Silhouetted in the mid-afternoon sun, Carousel Boutique resembled a fortified tower whose warlord had a taste for pastel. Its owner’s sense of decor made it no less intimidating, however. Darkness turned the blue cold as ice and cast the pinks in the colour of dried blood. Pillars and arches stood strong, like armed guards before the fortress. Pairs of windows on each floor gazed down on Silver like pairs of eyes, expressionless yet judgmental. Somewhere behind them, she knew, was the pony she had come to see. She could already feel her real eyes, blazing blue steel that could bore straight into a pony's soul. Somewhere else, Silver imagined, Sweetie might be hiding. Could she see Silver too?

The building cast as long a shadow over Silver's heart as over her body.

Silver Spoon shivered and adjusted her glasses. She rubbed her shoulders and, just for good measure, tugged and brushed at her braid. It would not do to see a hero of Equestria with an untidy mane, of course. Surely one of Equestria's foremost fashion designers would appreciate a tidy cut. A member of the entourage of a princess shouldn't be insulted by stray hairs that might get on her dresses. A mare who could fight toe-to-toe with a swarm of Changelings could turn Silver inside-out if she wanted.

Silver Spoon swallowed and adjusted her glasses again. She told herself that she would go inside as soon as her knees stopped shaking. As that was not likely to happen for some time, she should be safe, right?

She groaned and ducked her head, ruffling at her mane. She couldn't just stand out here all day. She needed to go in, and face Rarity. She could feel Rarity's judgmental glare on her already, the spite of a pony whose dear sister Silver had hurt so badly.

Or, perhaps it was Sweetie Belle. Perhaps the filly was gazing down at her from a high window, watching, waiting to see what she would do. Silver's chest clenched at the thought, which brought with it a feeling like warm wind. She couldn't hurt Sweetie by turning away now. She thought of Diamond: How did she act when she was doing something she knew was a bad idea?

Silver Spoon breathed deep, puffed out her chest, straightened her legs, arched her tail and marched into Carousel Boutique.

The bell above the door sounded like a death knell. Silver tried her best to ignore it, but more than a little confidence ebbed from her stance. Still, she was in the shop. She took a few steps deeper inside, peering around the store.

It was sparse, a sign of Rarity's prosperity. Though her second boutique in Canterlot grew more popular by the day, many ponies preferred to come to the more rustic shop where 'the legend began', with some traveling many miles just to have the chance to see it. Any new dresses that Rarity produced were sure to be snatched up before too long. Especially after the success of this past weekend's fashion show.

Near the rear of the room a pair of assistants were fussing over the best way to arrange a hat, but Rarity was nowhere to be seen. A soft clatter of hooves from a back room, however, announced her approach.

“I apologize, dear, I was just working on some dresses,” Rarity said as she came out to the showroom. “Welcome to Carousel Boutique, where every garment is chic, unique, and—oh.” Rarity gazed down on Silver, her previously cheerful expression falling to one of barely-withheld disdain in an instant. “It's you.”

Rarity cleared her throat and smiled a smile that was not even trying to be convincing. “What,” she asked, forcing the words into some semblance of politeness, “may I do for you? Looking for a new dress, or an accessory? Perhaps a nice chapeau for that... unique, manestyle of yours?”

“Huh?” Silver asked, looking up. She balked at her mane, which she had unwittingly rustled into a mad, wild mess. She made a sound not unlike the fearful squeaking of a mouse caught by a cat, and desperately ran her hooves through it to straighten it out. “N-no, Rarity,” she said. “Miss Rarity. Um... L-lady Rarity.”

A faint smile played across Rarity's lips, but she concealed it with a flip of her mane. When she had settled it had disappeared once more, and her steely gaze had returned. “Then what brings you into my little shop, darling? We offer little else.”

Silver swallowed. “W-well,” she said. Her voice caught in her throat and she coughed, swallowed, and tried again. “Well, Miss, um, Lady R-rarity, I ah...” Rarity's glare seemed to grow harder by the moment. Silver felt as though her very soul were under attack by those cold blue eyes. “I-if you're not busy, I, um, was h-hoping to... talk? T-to you?”

Rarity stared cooly at Silver. If she was surprised by this request, she did not show it. The longer she went without speaking, the more Silver began to wonder if that was deliberate. Certainly, Silver only grew more uncomfortable as time passed. She shuffled her hooves, fidgeting with her glasses and trying her best to hold Rarity's gaze. She withered under that icy blue, but she managed to maintain eye contact.

“What,” Rarity finally said, “would you want to speak to me about?”

Silver blinked and stammered. It was clear from her expression that Rarity knew the answer already—or was Silver just imagining that Rarity could feel her guilt? Silver swallowed hard, adjusting her glasses once, then twice. “W-we-um,” she said, “It's... about Sweetie, um... y-your sister.”

“Yes,” Rarity said. “I am aware that Sweetie is my sister, in fact.”

“R-right,” Silver said, ducking her head. Now she was sure that Rarity was toying with her, playing with her as a cat plays with a mouse. She groaned internally. She might as well get it over with, so Rarity would have no choice but to set her free, or kill her. Metaphorically speaking of course, Silver reminded herself.

“It's, I w-wanted to, um...” She struggled with the words under Rarity's ever hardening glare. Words came to her throat and died in waves, cut down by the pure, unabated spite. “I need your help!” she finally managed, “For her!” She very nearly shouted the words. Rarity's assistants turned to look at her. Silver blushed crimson, thanking whoever was listening that there was nopony else in the store.

The fierceness of Rarity's stare abated, and the mare leaned back on her heels—Silver realized that she had been leaning in, subtly but very literally looming over Silver. “Why don't you come with me,” she asked. She turned to her assistants and called out, “Watch the shop for me please, dears. I'll be unavailable for a little bit.” She gestured for Silver to follow her and strode through a door in the back of the room.

Silver cantered to keep up with her. Rarity swung the door open and closed it with barely any time for Silver to slip through. To her surprise, they were not in an office, or a work room, or any part of the shop, as Silver had expected. Instead they were in a hallway, a soft baby-blue in contrast to the purple of the shop and decorated with an eggshell rug. Various picture frames were hung along the walls, and there was a room immediately to Silver's left that appeared to be a pantry.

“It's rude to snoop, dear,” Rarity chided as she locked the door behind them.

“S-sorry,” Silver said. “Is this... your house?”

“More of an apartment-cum-workshop,” Rarity said with an idle wave of her hoof. “But yes.”

“It's, um, really nice,” Silver said. She adjusted her glasses and added, “I, um, g-guess such a good fashion designer would be good at interior design too...”

Rarity smiled faintly. “There's no need to flatter me, darling,” she said. “But thank you. One does what one can.”

Silver nodded and blushed gently. It would be a lie to say she had not meant to placate Rarity. It would also, however, be a lie to say she did not consider it true. “But,” Silver added as Rarity led her down the hall, “I always thought you would live outside of Ponyville, with all the other rich ponies?”

Rarity shrugged. “I'm only one pony,” she said. “I can only take up so much space. Your father understood that, at least with your home here. Besides, living close to work is convenient, and it's better than having some rowdy pony living adjacent to all my dresses. No, it was much easier to simply buy up the lease for myself.” she waved a hoof again and turned through a broad archway into a simple, pleasant little kitchen. “But we didn't come here to discuss my living conditions, did we? Have a seat, darling.”

“Um, o-okay,” Silver said. She clambered into one of the chairs by the table and watched Rarity as the mare trotted in front of the cupboards. They all opened at once, no less than two dozen various boxes, utensils, cups, and cartons flew out. “Do you drink tea, Silver?” she asked.

“Oh!” Silver said. “Um, sometimes.” She fidgeted with her glasses.

Rarity nodded and filled a kettle with water—tap, kettle and flow of water all directed by a deft and skillful magic, and all without setting down a single item. It was an impressive sight to any normal pony. Although Rarity had an air of casualness about it, as though she had spent too much time around princesses to consider her own magic special, there was something about the way she held her head that told Silver she was well aware.

“This tea,” Rarity said idly, “is from the Evergreen Province of Mitaan. I'm afraid I have no idea what it's called—the Mitaani have a different alphabet than Equestria—but it's quite delicious. And quite rare. Mitaan refuses to trade with Equestria, so if it comes from anywhere it's from Aloa, who are somewhat overzealous in their tariffs. This box in particular, however, I picked up while visiting Mitaan.” She sighed happily at the memory. “They have the most wonderful silks there,” she said. “Beautiful dresses. When the light comes down through the canopy it looks as though the colours are dancing. Do you take sugar? Ah, silly me, of course you do. Just a little filly. Two lumps? Three?”

“Whu—um, one,” Silver said.”

Rarity cocked an eyebrow. “Cream?” she asked.

“Just a little,” Silver answered. “If that's alright. Um... Kelson always made tea for me... he made it strong.”

Rarity nodded. She turned back to the counter, leaving Silver to stew in her fear while Rarity fixed the tea in silence. After several minutes she turned back around, two mugs floating in front of her, and walked to the table. The ingredients floated back into their respective places behind her.

Rarity took a seat at the table and set a mug in front of Silver. She took her own in hoof, swirling it gently. She was silent. Silver stared at her.

“Aren't going to drink?” Rarity asked. “It'll go cold.”

Silver jolted and grabbed the cup, slurping it down. She winced as it scalded her tongue, but she could not help but notice that Rarity was right. The tea was delicious.

Rarity chuckled and rested her chin on the backs of her hooves. “Now,” she said, setting an even, cold eye on Silver. “I understand, of course, that it's considered unlady-like to do things like reminding your guests that you have karate-kicked a god in the chin,”

Silver blanched.

“So I shall try not to do us both that disservice,” she continued. “But you're clearly a very sharp filly, so I won't insult our intelligences. Unlike Applejack, whose charming dedication to domestic perfection inspires her to turn a blind eye to some unpleasantness, I have no illusions on how you and Diamond Tiara have treated Sweetie Belle and her friends over the years. Likewise, I am very, very aware of what you did to her this weekend.” Her gaze become cold once more. Silver could have sworn she felt a scratching sensation on her brain. “And yet, you're asking for my help. If you're planning a follow up, I suggest you finish your tea and leave. Quickly. You know where the door is.” Her gaze softened, and she added, “However, I somehow doubt that to be the case.”

“I-I... really?” Silver asked. In the space of a moment Rarity's expression had turned from steel to silk, and the sudden softness caught Silver off guard. Indeed, she felt no less unsteady then when Scootaloo had put her on one leg. “I mean,” she added, waving her hooves, “I a-am being honest! But...”

Rarity lifted a hoof to stop her. “It's alright dear, I understand,” she said. “If you were less nervous, I would be less willing to believe you. You don't have the demeanor of somepony who is afraid of being caught. You have the demeanor of somepony who knows she's been caught, and is afraid to not have the chance of apologizing... though I suppose if I were to be cynical it might be that you're afraid of not having the chance to weasel your way out of it.”

“That's not it!” Silver insisted, but Rarity raised her hoof once more.

“I know,” Rarity said. “But I am curious, why the sudden change of heart. What you did is not the sort of thing that a pony can do on the spur of the moment. I imagine you were planning it from the moment you learned Sweetie Belle and I would be attending.”

“We... were,” Silver said. She had spent two entire nights with Diamond smoothing out the details. True, it had mostly been Diamond making the plan, and Silver had merely pointed out flaws in it, but she had helped nevertheless. She folded her forelegs and stared down. “I wanted to stop it,” she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. “But I was too afraid to. Afraid of how Sweetie would react, afraid of how Diamond would react... that's why I need your help. I want to apologize to Sweetie by showing her I won't let being afraid stop me anymore.”

She opened up to Rarity, explaining her plan to the older mare. Not only that; she told Rarity everything, from beginning to end. Rarity made a surprisingly willing listener and therapist. The more she spoke the more her fears of Rarity ebbed away, and the more open she felt. Silver told Rarity about the moment she first realized how she felt about Sweetie Belle, about her mounting anxiety as the weekend went on, and about her final, too-late resolution to come clean. She told Rarity about her fear of the Phantom, and how she hid behind Diamond Tiara, and how Sweetie Belle gave her the confidence to step out of her friend’s shadow. She told Rarity how much Sweetie Belle meant to her. How much she loved Sweetie.

Rarity considered all of this silently. When Silver was finished, she took a long, slow sip of her tea. “It is a noble endeavor,” she said. “Sweetie Belle always wants everypony to be happy with one another. Though in truth, I think she wants you to be happy with her a fair bit more than most.” She set her teacup down and rubbed her chin. “I cannot help, however, but think it all sounds... big.”

“Well... shouldn't it be?” Silver asked. “I... I really hurt Sweetie. Even if I hadn't, what I did... I need to do something big to make it up to her.”

Rarity hummed, drawing her hoof around the rim of her teacup. “Well, you're in luck,” she said. “I happen to have just what you need. They're not my best work—I made them when I wasn't much older than you, for the play of a friend. She went on to be a costume designer herself, funnily enough.” She stood up from the table. “They're a bit old, of course, but I can never bring myself to get rid of anything nostalgic.”

Silver slipped down from the table and followed after Rarity. The mare strode ahead with full confidence, not bothering to look back. She seemed to be lost in her own little world, tittering on as if to herself.

“I am a bit of a romantic, I'll admit. I always have been. When I was younger, I always dreamed of some dashing, handsome stallion who would arrive, and be absolutely perfect in every way, and he would sweep me up into a grand romance. The sort they write about in the stars.” She smiled mockingly and draped a hoof over her forehead. “He would be a prince, or an esteemed designer, or a rich but lonely magnate... and he would see me, and be smitten instantly and demand my hoof in marriage. He would treat me like a princess, and I would adore him in kind.” She laughed. Her stride slowed, and she came to a stop. Silver Spoon stuttered to a stop beside her, unbalanced by the sudden change in pace and tone.

Rarity had stopped in front of a small picture frame on the wall. It was a simple photo, depicting Rarity in the arms of another mare, burly and orange. It was Applejack, Apple Bloom's older sister, and another of Princess Twilight's entourage.

Rarity was staring lovingly into it, stroking the frame. “Do you know what I love about Applejack, Silver?” She asked.

Silver looked between Rarity and the frame. “...What?” she asked.

“She isn't any of those things,” Rarity said. “She isn't a prince, or a wealthy business-pony, or a respected artist. To be frank, she's not even particularly romantic. I could paint a face on a brick and it would probably be more romantic than she is. She's a farmer, plain and simple. And while it took me a long time to realize it... that's a good thing.

“Now don't misunderstand me, flowers and chocolates are nice,” Rarity carried on, “but there's a difference between the occasional surprise gift and a sweeping, impractical gesture. A trail of rose petals leading to mare covered in—” she stopped suddenly and coughed. Silver blinked once, then blushed crimson. “W-well anyways,” Rarity said sharply, “nothing spoils a sweet moment like having to vacuum the carpet and launder the bedsheets.” She gave the photo one last smile and turned away, leading Silver back towards the shop. They entered into a large room, filled with rack upon rack of old or unsold dresses and costumes.

Rarity continued to talk as she walked between the rows, checking on a dress here, a costume there. “I think, looking back on it now, I was always sort of lying to myself. Not about Stallions of course, that never mattered. At any rate I hardly find myself short of compatriots, in my industry. But, in my industry, there are certain... expectations of us. Fashion! Ostentation, glamor, perhaps a touch of hedonism on top... yes, ponies in the fashion industry are expected to want the best in life.” She smirked as she flipped through a rack of dusty black suits. “A manor in the trendy parts of Manehattan, not an apartment behind my shop in Ponyville. A grand romance, not a friendship with a pony I've known since I was a filly evolving into something much more. How many times did I look at Applejack before I fell in love with her, I wonder? It certainly wasn't first sight.”

Silver hummed noncommittally and adjusted her glasses. As soon as she was sure Rarity was looking away from her, she peered hard at the mare. She could not put her hoof on why, but there was a lump of anxiety in her chest that only grew as Rarity spoke. Perhaps it was the casualness of it, as though she were trying to lull Silver into a false sense of security. Silver discarded the idea; if Rarity was upset with her Silver doubted she would go this far to disguise it now. “B-but,” she said, rubbing her neck, “Don't you want something romantic? I mean, I always thought... romantic was good. And I know in all those plays and stuff Sweetie likes...”

“Oh, on occasion, certainly,” Rarity replied, waving her hoof offhandedly. “As I said, I do enjoy receiving flowers, and chocolates... and the odd piece of jewelry. And yes, I would not object if, on occasion, Applejack decided to surprise me with something special. But at the same time, big gestures aren't her. They aren't anypony, really.” Rarity hummed for a moment and stopped in front of an old, small rack. The clothes on it were so dusty that they were almost all gray. She picked one of the costumes off the rack and brushed it for a moment. “Ah-ha,” she said. She inspected closer, but it was clear she had found what she was looking for. “These will need some re-stitching, but they'll be fine, and it will be simple enough. I should be able to do it tonight.” She tucked the costume away once again. She tutted, and pulled something out of the rack. It was a mask, made to cover the area around the eyes, and down one side of the face. Rarity brushed the dust and grime off of it and held it out for Silver.

Silver took the mask and stared at it. The Phantom's mask. Even looking at it alone made her gut squirm and wriggle. At least, she thought it was the mask.

“Applejack is too honest for romance,” Rarity said. “She tells me she loves me every time she leaves. When I'm mad at her, she apologizes. When she's mad at me, she tells me. It really is funny, in a way. I spent so long being told that I needed something big and bombastic, something showy, that I managed to convince myself it was true. I didn't have the courage to be, and pursue, what I really wanted, and I spent so much time pining over a ghost because of it. I'm just glad that Applejack did have the courage, and that she chose to pull me along for the ride.” She rolled her jaw and gently wiped her hoof off on a cleaner suit nearby. “I'll get to work on your costumes, dear,” she said. “It's a very romantic idea.”

Silver Spoon stared down at the mask in her hooves. Her stomach churned and twisted itself into knots. She was afraid, and she no longer knew of what.

Chapter 8: The Phantom of the Opera

Chapter 8: The Phantom of the Opera

Silver Spoon’s hooves were shaking.

She held in them a bundle of clothes topped by a small porcelain mask. At least, it was painted to look porcelain. Silver’s hooves were barely steady enough to hold the mask, but when she could she guessed it to be vinyl at best, or more likely plastic. It was cold to the touch—although perhaps it was Silver Spoon who was cold.

Rarity had delivered it earlier that day. It had been wrapped in plain brown paper and string, just as Rarity had been wrapped in a plain gray raincoat, as though to avoid being spotted. Silver had needed to open the package to be sure, however, and she had immediately regretted it. The mask of the Phantom of the Opera had stared up at her, and she had been staring back ever since.

It was not the fear that did it, per se, although the sight of the mask certainly made Silver sick to her stomach. Rather, it was a sort of nervousness, an anticipation of things to come. She had known for some time now that there was no going back for her, that she had to follow through, but the sight of the mask gave the thought a kind of finality. Today, she would execute her plan. Today, she would apologize to Sweetie Belle. Today, she would know whether or not Sweetie would forgive her.

Silver Spoon groaned and leaned back against Nova, who was dozing silently behind her, and pressed her hooves into his fur to still them. She wormed her way into his thick black fur, as though trying to hide from the mask, and rubbed her eyes. Once again she had barely slept, running through the plan over and over in her mind. Two nights in a row of terrible sleep had done little to help her mindset, and no small part of her wanted to fall asleep against Nova right then and there. She felt as though she could sleep for days—weeks, even—and forget about her troubles. Her eyes began to drift shut, still fixed on the mask. She couldn’t forget, she knew. She didn’t have time to sleep. As her vision began to blur and fade, however, she wondered if a small rest would hurt that much.

A heavy knock on the door shook her out of her doze. Nova grumbled as she jolted against him, but Silver ignored his complaining. “C-come in,” Silver said, adjusting her glasses.

The door creaked open and Kelson stepped inside. He looked little better than Silver felt. His expression was clouded by consternation, and even the perpetual brightness in his eyes had faded. “Wee miss?” he said softly. “Wee Misses Diamond Tiara, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo are here for you.” He frowned and rubbed his jaw. “How’re you holdin’ up? You’re lookin’ a mite…”

“Tired,” Silver Spoon said. She sighed and rubbed her eyes again. “I’m just tired, Kelson.”

Kelson frowned deeper, but he nodded. “Alright,” he said. “suppose I’d be too. Once this is all over, you can have yourself a nice happy nap, aye?”

A wave of anxiety washed over Silver, and she was suddenly happy she was braced against Nova. “Y-yeah,” she said. “I guess I’d, um… better go out and see them, then. Get this O-ov…” The word ‘over’ felt intolerable, somehow. “Out of the way.”

She rolled off of Nova slowly, careful not to upset her already uneasy stomach, and gathered her costume together. She began to wrap it back in its paper, but her hooves slowed as she worked. She was staring into the eyes of the mask, and her hooves were shaking more violently than ever. She could hardly hold the string like this. The longer she stared, the worse she felt, and the more a question arose in her mind. “Kelson?” she asked. “Am I… doing the right thing?”

Kelson paused for a moment, then forced out a smile. “Well,” he said, scratching his chin, “Iffin’ you ask me, I’da gone for a surgeon’s knot instead of a bow, myself.”

Silver could not bring herself to laugh, not even politely. For that matter, neither could Kelson. He sighed, and sat down beside Silver. “You know,” he said, shuffling his wings, “I was a Lieutenant aboard our ship when yer’ pap joined up with us as a crewman. We went up through ranks pretty much neck-and-neck, ‘till he took over the boat. He was captain of our boat, an’ I was his first mate. Fact of the matter was, I was never meant to be in charge. Personality-wise, y’see. Yer’ pap, he always had his clever ideas and was quick on his hooves. I was just good at givin’ advice. Too simple a fella to be in charge.”

He rubbed his chin and hummed deeply. “Point is,” he continued, “I can’t really tell you what yer’ plan should be. I can tell you it ain’t what I had in mind when I told you to apologize, and I can tell you it ain’t what I’da done, myself, though.”

Silver winced heavily, but Kelson continued. “But,” he said, “I don’t know this filly the same way you do. If you figure that doin’ all this is the right way to get through to her, then I figure it must be.” He smiled, a genuine smile this time, and gently boxed Silver’s chin. “Yer’ a clever filly. Always have been. I’m sure that, if you think this is the right thing to do, then it is.”

That hadn’t made Silver feel much better. It had helped a bit, however, and at this point she was willing to take that. She stared at the mask for a moment longer, then folded the paper over it. She adjusted her glasses and managed a smile. “You want to, uh, do that surgeon’s knot?” she asked Kelson.

Kelson laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “I’d stick with the bow, actually,” he said. “You’ll actually be able to untie that one when you need to open it up again.”

Silver looked to the skies as they left the house. Clouds hung low and dark in the sky, fat with the promise of rainfall. Compared to the heat of the day before it was wonderfully cool, and it was clear that the thunderstorm from Manehattan had finally been scheduled for Ponyville. That would make the gardeners of the town happy, at least. Silver was just glad that she would be inside while it was all happening. Hopefully Sweetie would make it indoors before the rain began as well.

Diamond Tiara, Apple Bloom, and Scootaloo were waiting at the end of the drive. Diamond stood apart from the other two, who looked politely terse. The tension between the three warned of a storm more intense than any thunder, and all three looked noticeably relieved when Silver arrived. For her part, Silver felt as though an icy claw was squeezing her heart. Every step she took was one more step towards her plan.

“Thank goodness,” Diamond Tiara said under her breath to Silver. “If I had to bite my tongue any longer I think I’d chew it off.”

“Were they doing anything?” Silver whispered back.

“No,” Diamond replied, glowering at nopony in particular. “They’re just being polite. Which is almost worse. It feels like gloating. This is hard.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Silver assured her. She paused and added, “probably.” She turned to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo before Diamond Tiara had a chance to respond, and nodded to them. “Thanks for doing this,” she said.

“We’re doing it for Sweetie Belle,” Scootaloo said, shrugging.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes. “...But we’re also happy to,” she said. She leaned in and added, “Don’t worry too much ‘bout Scoots. She’s just getting used to ya, I figure.”

Silver managed a smile and adjusted her glasses, peering over her shoulder at Diamond Tiara. “Well, that makes two of them,” she said. “We’ll… hopefully have plenty of time for all of us to get used to it.” She paused for a moment, and the four fillies were silent. “I mean...” she said, “I… I don’t know if everything is going to work out today, but if it.. d-doesn’t…” Silver swallowed down a wave of panic and forced her voice to remain steady. “I know you probably won’t want to be friends with me and Diamond. But I’m serious about this, so…”

Apple Bloom stopped her with a hoof on Silver’s shoulder. “It’s alright,” she said. “I get it. You keep on tryin’ to be good, and I’d be more than happy to be friendly with y’all. But honestly?” she winked. “I wouldn’t worry too much ‘bout today.”

Silver Spoon breathed a deep sigh. There was less relief in it than she would have liked, but it felt as though the claw around her heart had loosened its grip. Silver breathed deeply again, forcing her shoulders to relax. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, thank you.” She rolled her shoulders, trying to work out the last of the knot between them. “You know what you’re going to do?”

“Yup,” Apple Bloom said, grinning. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing, we’ll get Sweetie over to you in a hurry.”

Silver nodded. She looked at the sky and adjusted her glasses. “Even if the rain starts?”

“Ain’t like it’s the first time we’ve been out in the rain,” Apple Bloom replied with a shrug. “We’ll just tell her somepony needs help, and it’s gotta be her. Ain’t like that’s a lie.” She beamed and patted Silver’s shoulder. “Didn’t I say not to worry about it? You just get on down to the schoolhouse, get yourself set up for when we get Sweetie there.”

Silver managed to smile as well. “Okay,” she said. “Well… no sense putting it off, I guess. Just give as a, uh… ten minute head start.”

“Got it,” Apple Bloom said. “See you soon.” She grinned wider and added, “Not that I don’t know it’s serious for you, but I hope you don’t mind me sayin’ I’m a bit excited. How bout you, Scoots?”

“I still think it’s silly,” Scootaloo replied. She shrugged and ruffled her wings. “But it’ll be nice to see Sweetie Belle happy again, if it works out.”

Apple Bloom’s smile faded and she gave Scootaloo a playful thump on the shoulder. “That’s as close to a ‘yes’ as yer’ gonna get from her, I think,” she said. “We’ll see you there.”

With goodbyes exchanged Silver Spoon slipped her package onto her back and turned back to Diamond Tiara. The air had grown heavier during the conversation, and Silver didn’t doubt the rain would be coming down before too long. “We’d better get going,” she said.

Diamond Tiara nodded, peering anxiously at the sky. “Yeah,” she said, “I’m in no mood to get caught out in the rain. You sure picked a day for this, you know.”

Silver frowned up at the sky as well. “Yeah, well,” she said. “I guess if I’m already being dramatic, the weather may as well join in.” She shook her head and began to walk in the direction of the Schoolhouse. It was always open in case a student needed it—Silver had always imagined that was just an excuse to not get better locks on the front door—but there was never anypony there over the weekend. With the desks pushed out of the way, it made the perfect stage. At least, the perfect stage for a filly too young to find somewhere better.

“I guess,” Diamond Tiara agreed, following after Silver. “It seems like it agrees with you. Maybe that’s a good omen.”

“Or a portent,” Silver Spoon remarked wryly, hunching up her shoulders at the thought. She shook her head to drive it away and adjusted her glasses, adding, “Or a coincidence with the weather pegasi’s schedule.”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes and snorted. “Well, I suppose you can’t be romantic all the time. Honestly, I’m surprised you could come up with a plan like this at all. I didn’t think you were the theater type.” She was quiet for a moment, shaking her head.

“I’m not the theatre type,” Silver said. “I was, before I met you, but I haven’t been since I was a little filly.”

“Because of The Phantom?” Diamond Tiara asked.

Silver was silent. “Yeah,” she said eventually. “Because of The Phantom.”

“You really thought I would make fun of you because of it?” Diamond asked. She wore an annoyed expression, but it was tinged with something that Silver wasn’t sure she’d ever seen on Diamond before. Guilt? Worry?

“Yeah,” Silver said. “But, well, it wasn’t just you. I sort of thought anypony would. I mean, it’s pretty dumb, after all.”

“Maybe,” Diamond Tiara said, “but like, all fears are kinda dumb. I mean, I hate spiders, and like, we live in Equestria! What kind of spiders are there here that could hurt me?”

There were quite a few, in fact, but Silver decided not to mention any of them. “That doesn’t really make it not stupid,” she said, looking away from Diamond.

Diamond was silent again. “I guess,” she said. “You shouldn’t feel bad about it, though. I wouldn’t make fun of you over it.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Silver asked, looking back to Diamond.

Diamond Taira’s expression changed many times in the next few moments, as though she were reading through a list. None of them looked particularly pleased. “Maybe a little,” she admitted with a grimace. “But not if I knew it was serious.” She sighed and rubbed her neck. “Look. I know I can be a jerk sometimes… I guess. But you’re my best friend. I… never knew you felt that way about me.”

Silver wasn’t certain how to respond to that. So she didn’t. She remained silent, digesting the words. It was difficult for her to decide how it made her feel, already bogged down with guilt and anxiety as she was.

The sky grew only darker as they walked, as though it was a mirror for Silver’s mood. It certainly made her no happier to see. The damp chill in the air and the dark shadow over the landscape amplified her sense of doom as they approached the schoolhouse. Although there was nopony trimming the trees, suggesting they would at least be spared a windstorm, there seemed to be no end of Pegasi ferrying more clouds into the sky. By the time Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara arrived the sky looked ready to burst open.

They ducked inside the schoolhouse, just barely dodging the first few drops of rain. Silver sighed weakly. “Looks like Sweetie Belle and the others are gonna get wet… that won’t make her any happier.” She adjusted her glasses and breathed deeply, trying to ease the grip on her heart just a bit further. “We’d… better get started,” she said. “Can you start pushing the left rows of desks against the wall?”

Diamond Tiara ran a hoof through her mane, checking it to see if any rain had managed to get on it. “Apple Bloom would have been better for heavy lifting,” she said sourly. She caught a look of Silver’s expression and ducked her head. “Er, but, yeah.”

They worked diligently and, like their walk, silently. Silver was feeling a new sort of anxiety now, a fear that they wouldn’t be ready in time. She worked as hard as she was able, speaking only to direct Diamond and ask for her help. Most of the desks were shoved aside, out of the way, but Silver and Diamond also stacked desks atop one another to form an impromptu curtain. Silver would change into her costume behind it, as well as hide behind it when Sweetie Belle first arrived.

Diamond Tiara grunted as she slid the last of the desks into place. She leaned against it, panting heavily. “You know,” she wheezed, “I think I’ve sweat more this weekend than in the past like, year put together.”

Silver mopped her brow. She had heard that working hard was supposed to lighten ones spirit. She seemed to be immune. “Sorry,” she said.

Diamond Tiara grunted, and shrugged. “It’s probably good for me,” she replied, her voice sour. “Everything that’s good for me sucks.”

“Yeah,” Silver said. She adjusted her glasses and dropped the package on one of the desks. “You can say that again.”

“Everything that’s good for me sucks,” Diamond repeated. She looked over at Silver. Silver stopped unwrapping the package and looked back. A silent, ‘why, then?’ hung in the air between them.

Silver sighed and shook her head. “You don’t have the help me if you don’t want to, Diamond,” she said. She finished unwrapping the package and began sorting out the costume. “You aren’t really obligated to just because… we’re friends.”

“Yeah, well,” Diamond said, shrugging. “I want to. I guess. I mean, I may as well learn to stop being lousy on somepony who it’s easy with, right?”

“I guess?” Silver said. She wasn’t certain she’d call this easy. In truth, she was doing her best to put off thinking about Diamond as much as possible until all this was finished. “Can you check outside, to see if anypony is coming?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Diamond said, pushing herself off the desk and away from the conversation. It was clear to Silver that the transition wasn’t easy on either of them.

Diamond trotted to the window and peered out into the storm. She squinted. “I can’t see anything out there,” she said. “The rain is coming down too hard, it’s too dark…”

Just as she spoke, lightning flashed. “Ow. Okay,” she added, blinking. “There’s definitely nopony out there.”

They both fell silent, counting the seconds in their heads. Thunder crashed ten seconds after the lightning. At least it had been far away. Silver spoon adjusted her glasses and turned back to the costume.

Although a youthful Rarity seemed to have had little restraint in regards to sequins, the costume was nevertheless simple and elegant. A white shirt, a black suit vest, and a black cloak with red on the interior was the extent of the clothing. That and the mask was all there was to see. Sweetie Belle would definitely recognize Silver without the mask, and probably with the mask as well. That was good.

“Keep an eye out for them, if you can,” Silver called to Diamond. “I’m gonna get dressed.” There was no sense in putting it off, after all.

The costume was tight—it had been almost a year since she had last been sized, and it was clear that Rarity was working off her last measurements—but it was easy enough to put on, and her reflection in the windows seemed to wear it well. The cloak was long, and Silver had to take care not to catch on it as she moved around. She walked a few steps this way and that to test the clothes and stretch the fit, and in no time at all the costume was perfectly comfortable. Then, all that was left was the mask.

Silver’s heart clenched once again as she thought of it. The mask. The Phantom. As long as her thoughts had been on her plan, on Sweetie Belle, it had been easy enough to forget her fears. As she turned to stare at the mask, however, it all came flooding back. She shivered as she remembered being a little filly, desperately afraid of some unseen bogeyman. She could see him even now, a vague spectre behind the mask, as though he was perpetually hidden in shadow. No height, no age, no face, nothing but a cruel grin and eyes that were always watching. It wasn’t real. She knew that, now that she was older. There was nopony waiting to snatch her from the shadows. No obsessed lunatic out to catch her for their own.

Her hooves were shaking as she slipped off her glasses and picked up the mask. This was silly. She told herself, over and over, that The Phantom wasn’t real. She had nothing to be afraid of. She turned the mask over and lifted it towards her face. The Phantom wasn’t real. The Phantom wasn’t real. The only Phantom here was Silver. How could she be afraid of herself? She wasn’t obsessed, she wasn’t crazy, she wasn’t going to kidnap anypony. She just wanted to sing for Sweetie Belle.

Silver wondered if that was what The Phantom had thought about Christine.

“Silver?” Diamond asked.

Silver Spoon gasped and slapped the mask onto her face. “What?” she asked, cursing the lump in her throat.

“You okay?” Diamond asked. “You sound kind of, uh…”

Silver Spoon blinked. Suddenly, she became aware that she had been breathing heavily, almost hyperventilating. She groaned and patted her chest, forcing her breathing to steady and slow. Her heart was pounding so hard she felt sick. Her skin was crawling beneath the mask. “I’m fine,” she said.

Diamond Tiara frowned. “I have no idea how you were in theatre,” she said. “You’re a terrible liar.” Her expression softened. She looked back at the window once, then stepped away. “They’re still not out there,” she said. “And in this weather they aren’t going to be moving fast.” She paused, and added, “Or they’ll be bolting, and I won’t have time to warn you anyways.” she shrugged and trotted over to Silver Spoon. As the approached, her pace slowed. “You… really are afraid of The Phantom, huh?” she asked.

Silver wanted to deny it. She tucked down her head and waved her hooves vaguely. “It… I… Yeah,” she admitted. She hung her head. “I know it’s stupid,” she said.

Diamond shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “I mean, we knew it was scary, right? Otherwise we wouldn’t have used a Phantom to try and scare Sweetie Belle.” She had turned away from Silver, and therefore missed her unimpressed expression. Diamond continued, “It’s weird, sure, but I don’t think you’re the first filly to be scared of a play. Especially if it’s from before I met you. We were what, five?”

“Six,” Silver corrected. “I should be over it by now, though.”

“You never told anypony about it,” Diamond said. She turned back, and frowned. “Of course you’re still afraid, you kept it all bottled up inside and never dealt with it. If you’d told me about it I could have helped you know! I could have… I dunno, done something. Helped you laugh your way past it.” She ran a hoof through her mane.

Silver groaned. In truth, she had been expecting this. It seemed that putting off the issue wasn’t in the cards. “M-maybe,” she said.

“Even if you were still afraid of it, we could have done something different last weekend,” Diamond continued. She was pacing up and down the classroom, now. “We could have found some way to avoid Sweetie Belle finding out about it, and avoided all this.” She grimaced and stuck out her tongue. “We could have still been having fun.”

“I’m sorry,” Silver said. The last thing she needed now was more guilt. The claw around her heart squeezed until the pressure was unbearable. The knot between her shoulders had become a boulder.

Diamond Tiara returned to Silver’s side and sat down. She glowered into the distance for a while, but her sour expression slowly turned morose. “Don’t be,” she said. “I’m just frustrated… you know, ever since last weekend I feel like I never really knew you at all.”

For a long moment, the only sounds was the rain against the windowpanes. Silver sat with her mouth open. She almost forgot how anxious she was, for a moment.. “I…” she said softly. She swallowed. “That’s not true. I never lied to you. I mean, I didn’t like theatre by the time we met. And… I didn’t really have anything that I wanted to do. I was fine doing all that. You knew me.”

“I didn’t know how brave you were, though.” Diamond said.

“That’s probably because I wasn’t brave,” Silver replied, staring down at her hooves. She put her glasses back on and fidgeted with them.

“You stood up to me,” Diamond said. “Twice. You kicked my butt and dragged me by the ear into being nice along with you. You stood up to Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, and you’re about to open your heart to Sweetie Belle. Not to mention Rarity. You got them all in on this plan of yours, that takes guts. It’s a good plan, too.” Diamond Tiara grinned. “Heck, maybe you should be the one calling the shots from now on.”

Silver Spoon flushed and adjusted her glasses. They sat awkwardly over top of the mask, slipping and sliding away from any comfortable position. “N-no way!” she said. “I’d be happy with you just asking me what I want to do a bit more. I don’t want one of us to be in charge, or anything.”

“Suit yourself,” Diamond Tiara said, shrugging. She leaned back on her hooves. “Maybe you should give it a shot, though. You’re doing a better job of it than I ever did. Honestly? I wish I’d known this Silver Spoon sooner. She’s pretty great. Maybe we coulda turned out better, if she was in charge. Me, I don’t even know where to start. At least you have Sweetie Belle. That’s… something.” She waved a hoof. “I’ve got nothing.”

“You’ve got me?” Silver Spoon offered.

Diamond Tiara looked over at Silver. In spite of her bleak expression, she managed a smile. A smirk, at least. “I’m not sure The Phantom of the Opera is the best pony to take advice on being a good pony from,” she said.

In spite of everything, Silver Spoon chuckled. She slipped off the mask and rubbed her face, putting her glasses back on. “Okay,” she said. “How about Silver? I’m not much, but nopony ever said it would be easy.”

Diamond laughed. “Are you kidding?” she asked. “You make this crap look like the easiest thing in the world.”

Silver Spoon couldn’t help but laugh. “Seriously?” she asked. “I’m—I have no idea what I’m doing here!”

“Well, you must have some idea,” Diamond Tiara said, nudging her gently. “I mean, look at all you’ve done so far!”

“All I’ve done so far?” Silver asked. She looked at the mask in her hooves. “All I’ve done so far was hurt Sweetie, betray her trust, and… come up with some dumb plan that might not even work.” She turned the mask, over and over, looking at it from both inside and out. “What if it isn’t enough? What if she doesn’t like it? What if it just hurts her feelings more? What… what if I’m doing the wrong thing, here?”

“Are you nuts?” Diamond asked, sitting up straight. “Do you seriously not know how amazing all of this is? What kind of filly wouldn’t go crazy over it?”

“You really think so?” Silver asked.

“Duh,” Diamond said, flipping her mane, as though to hide her momentary bout of compassion. “Look, why’d you come up with this plan? I mean, why this, instead of like, I dunno, holding up a radio outside her window or something like that?”

“Uh,” Silver Spoon said. “B-because musicals always have these big, dramatic arias and stuff when somepony tells somepony else they love them. I think it’s like, theatre law or something.”

“Okay,” Diamond said, “but why do you care about musicals? You don’t even like them. And I mean, what makes you so sure that Sweetie would like a musical ending?”

“Well, because she…” Silver’s brow furrowed with concentration, and she adjusted her glasses. “Because she really loves musicals.”

Diamond Tiara rolled her eyes. “And you know that because…” She prompted.

“Because I talked to her a lot?” Silver said, frowning. “Not like it was a huge mystery, though.”

Diamond rolled her hooves. Silver rolled her eyes. “I spent a lot of time with her because of a prank, Diamond. If that’s supposed to make me feel better—”

“Okay, first of all, we wouldn’t be here if that was the only reason,” Diamond said, in a tone that Silver knew to say, ‘you cannot be this dumb’. “But, why’d she spend time with you?”

Silver opened her mouth to speak, but found that she didn’t have an answer. Of course, Sweetie had started to spend time with Silver in order to stop The Phantom, but in truth that wouldn’t have taken very long at all, if that was all they were doing. “We… were having fun,” Silver said. Her brow furrowed deeper. “Because… Because I told her something I’d never told anypony else, and opened up to her. And she liked that, so she decided to give me a chance. And… because we spent time together, I had to be honest with her more and more, and… I… I guess she fell in love with me.” Silver Spoon blinked. “She made me see a pony who was smart, and brave and amazing, because that was the pony that she saw. She fell in love with me.”

“But I was a jerk,” Diamond said, “and ruined your shot at a relationship with her.”

Silver nodded slowly. Some small part of her noticed that Diamond Tiara did not have the common decency to sound even vaguely guilty about it, but it was drowned out by her churning thoughts. “And it killed me inside, but… I made a plan to apologize to her. And I got two ponies who… had every reason to hate me, who I’d been nothing but mean to for years, and stared down a national hero…” She paused, wincing faintly. “Well, got stared down by a hero. To make things right.”

“Because you love her,” Diamond said, nodding definitively.

Silver breathed out. “Yeah,” she said. “Because I love her. More than anything in the world.”

“There, you see?” Diamond asked, flipping her mane nonchalantly. “How could she look at somepony who’s done all that, and say it isn’t good enough?”

Silver looked away and rubbed her cheek. “I… I dunno,” she said. “I mean, when I put it like that I guess it sounds like a lot, but it’s not like I did it on my own. Sweetie pretty much had to drag me out of my shell, and you and Kelson were the ones who convinced me I could win her back in the first place.”

Diamond snorted. “That doesn’t mean you didn’t do all the real work. We just helped a bit.”

“Maybe,” Silver said. She found she was having trouble focusing, as though the thought, too enormous to even fully grapple, had shoved every other aside to make room. Still, she had to admit, she did feel better. At the very least her stomach had settled, even if her anxiety had not, and she no longer felt as though the mask was covered in a thousand tiny bugs. She ran her hoof over it. She’d had nightmares about that face for months when she was little, but now that she could see that it was just a mask she felt sillier than ever. She no longer felt embarrassed, though. “Thanks,” she said. “I’m still… nervous, but thanks.” She managed a smile. “You know, I don’t think you’ve ever complimented me this much. Or anypony else, for that matter. New Diamond is pretty cool too.”

Diamond smirked and made a great show of casually inspecting her hooves. “Nah,” she said. “I was always this great. You helped bring it out, though.”

Lightning flashed once again. The silhouette of three fillies painted the wall across from the windows, and Silver’s heart leapt. Then it sank. Then, as if confused, it twisted itself into a tight knot. “Behind the desks!” she hisses, scrambling down from her seat. Diamond leapt down as well, and together they dodged behind the wall of desks just as the door swung open.

“Inside y’all, quick!” the first pony shouted. Apple Bloom. Scootaloo bolted in after her, barely waiting for Applebloom to be out of the way. After Scootaloo came a third filly, much slower despite the rain. Sweetie Belle.

Silver Spoon’s breath caught in her throat. She could hardly see Sweetie through the gloom of the schoolhouse, but even so she could tell Sweetie looked miserable. Between Sweetie’s slumped posture, slow movements and haggard, unkempt mane, it looked as though Apple Bloom and Scootaloo had physically dragged Sweetie Belle out of bed.

Sweetie Belle looked around the room. “I thought you said there was somepony here?” she asked. Her voice, at least, did not sound as disconsolate as she looked. It was far from happy, however, tinged with a pained croak that was all too familiar to Silver. Disappointment, and betrayal. Silver swallowed hard, and donned the mask once more.

“There’s supposed to be,” Scootaloo said, flicking her wings to shake the water off.

“Must be somepony here,” Apple Bloom replied. She shut the door behind them, closing out the sounds of the storm. The lightning had drifted closer, and the low rumble of thunder came more and more often. “Don’t think these desks got stacked up by themselves.”

Silver Spoon fumbled with her glasses. No matter how she set them, they still slid awkwardly over the mask. Her heart pounding in her chest didn’t help matters; she could barely hold her hooves steady.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders had moved towards the center of the room, taking in the scene. Even Sweetie Belle was looking up at the wall of desks. “It’s like a curtain,” she said. “Are they hiding something?”

“I think that’s your cue,” Diamond Tiara hissed to Silver. “What are you waiting for?”

Silver Spoon cursed under her breath and set her glasses aside. Her legs felt like they were made from bubblegum. She could hardly stand up, much less walk. All she could do was stare at Sweetie.

Diamond Tiara, thankfully, had no such problems. She harrumphed and set her hooves against Silver’s rump, shoving the filly out from behind the curtain. Silver Spoon yelped and skittered to a stop in the center of the room.

For a minute, the world was still. Apple Bloom and Scootaloo looked up at Silver in recognition, although without her glasses Silver could not make out their expressions. Diamond Tiara gestured encouragingly to Silver. Sweetie Belle did nothing.

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo backed away, giving Silver the stage with Sweetie Belle. Both fillies were still, and silent. Lighting flashed. Thunder rolled.

Silver’s mouth was terribly dry. She swallowed hard, and managed to stand up straight. As she did, Sweetie Belle’s posture shifted in kind. Was she excited? Curious? Silver had no idea, but she was here. They were both here. Although her heart pounding so hard Silver felt like she would topple over, and she was more frightened than she had thought possible, Silver knew what to do.

Her voice was soft at first, rough and croaking. She had not sung in years, now, so long she scarce remembered how. The lyrics, however, were burned into her mind, and the more she sang the more she remembered.

“S-sing once again with me, our strange duet,” She sang. Her voice grew stronger and richer with every word, and soon she was singing as though she had never stopped. “My power over you grows stronger yet,”

She began to walk towards Sweetie Belle. She moved slowly at first, as though testing a dark water before her. One step, then another. Sweetie Belle remained still.

“And though you turn from me, to glance behind… The Phantom of the Opera is there!”

Silver Spoon remembered. She remembered fear. She remembered haunted nights and wasted days. But she remembered Sweetie, whose smile was like a candle in a crypt, whose laughter was like the ringing bell of an angel, and whose eyes shone like the sunrise. Silver Spoon remembered The Phantom, not as a spectre, but as a colt, an actor. Silver remembered acting. She offered a hoof to Sweetie Belle. “Inside your mind,” she sang, her voice as strong as it had ever been.

Lightning struck and thunder crashed. A thousand bits of metal around the classroom lit up, glittering like a thousand candles on a stage. Their stage. Silver gestured again, beckoning Sweetie Belle to join her in song.

Sweetie Belle was silent.

Silver Spoon felt herself waver on her hooves. Her voice faltered, but she did not stop. Perhaps Sweetie Belle was simply waiting for her?

“My... S-spirit and your voice, in one combined,” Silver sang, still moving closer to Sweetie Belle, “The Phantom of the Opera is there! Inside your mind!” She gestured to Sweetie Belle again, but again Sweetie Belle was silent.

Silver stepped ever closer, and with every step Sweetie Belle grew more and more clear in Silver’s vision. “In all your fantasies, you always n-knew, that… that…”

Silver could see Sweetie Belle’s expression, now. Sweetie was not excited. She was not elated. She was not in love. She was heartbroken. Sad, hurt and desperately cold, as though looking upon the body of somepony she had once loved at their funeral. “That,” Silver Spoon croaked. “That this was stupid, didn’t I?”

Silver Spoon let her hoof drop, and looked down. Thunder crashed once again, directly overhead, so loud it rattled the windows. Yet although Diamond Tiara, Apple Bloom and Scootaloo jumped, Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle were still. When Silver looked up again her eyes met Sweetie Belle’s, and she took off her mask. “This was a terrible idea, wasn’t it?”

Sweetie Belle was quiet still, but there was a hint of something in her eyes. Something warm and hopeful, despite how terribly cold she must be. Silver realized that the smaller filly was shivering. She stepped forward again, sweeping off her cape and wrapping it around Sweetie Belle’s shoulders.

“Sweetie Belle,” Silver Spoon said. “I’m sorry. I’m the one who asked Scootaloo and Apple Bloom to bring you here. I didn’t want to scare you again, or get you sick. I know it doesn’t seem like it, and I wouldn’t blame you if you thought I was just being cruel, but… I just want to apologize to you.”

Silver Spoon looked down at the mask in her hooves, turning it over and over as she spoke. “What I did to you was so… so wrong of me. Not just this weekend, but for the whole time I’ve known you. I understand that now… no, I always understood it. But I was afraid. Afraid to let ponies get to know me. Afraid that if they did, they wouldn’t like me. That I wasn’t good enough. So I hid. I hid behind Diamond Tiara, and behind sarcasm and mean words and… behind a Phantom of myself. But you made me be honest… and Sweetie Belle, I was honest with you.”

She looked up, once again locking eyes with Sweetie Belle. “I lied to you about The Phantom of the Bitmore,” Silver Spoon said, “But that was it. Everything else I told you was true. About The Phantom of the Opera, about my friendship with Diamond, about dancing and music and… Everything. And for a while I… didn’t feel like I had to hide.

“But then you found out about our prank, and you hated me. And you were right to. I hated me too. That’s… why I did all this. I hid again. I thought you needed something special. Some… big show to show you how much you meant to me, and how sorry I was, like there always were in musicals because… nothing I said would be good enough.” Silver Spoon looked down once more at the mask in her hooves. One final time. Then she looked up, breathed deep, and dropped the mask.

“It wasn’t… me,” she said. “I’m finished hiding. I don’t… know if you’ll believe me. You don’t have to.” Silver took another step forward and pressed a hoof to her chest. “But this, right now, is me. Sweetie Belle, I want you to know that I’m so, so sorry for what I did, and… even though I don’t deserve it, I want to make things right between us. Because I… I-I love you.”

A slow smile broke across Sweetie Belle’s face. She leaned in and pressed her lips against Silver’s.

Lightning flashed, blinding white light through each window. Or perhaps it was merely the lights in Silver’s eyes and the electricity in her veins. The warmth of Sweetie Belle’s lips ran through Silver life a fire. Fear, anxiety, ache and doubt were all blasted away, scorched to ashes in a brilliant, beautiful instant. There was nothing left in Silver but bliss.

When the kiss ended Silver lurched forward, gasping for breath. Sweetie Belle caught her even as Silver caught Sweetie. They collapsed in each other’s forelegs, elated and exhausted. Slowly, dimly, Silver Spoon realized that Sweetie Belle was laughing. Like the bell of an angel.

“I believe you,” Sweetie Belle said. Her voice cracked and wheezed from disuse, but those words were the most beautiful sound that Silver had ever heard. “And I forgive you.”

“Oh thank Celestia,” Silver said. She laughed around a lump in her throat and sniffled back tears.

“Don’t cry!” Sweetie Belle laughed. “You’re gonna make me cry too!”

“I’m sorry,” Silver Spoon said. She sniffed again and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I’m just… so happy that you believe me, and that you don’t hate me.”

Sweetie Belle hugged Silver tight. “I never hated you, Silver,” she said. “I was mad at you, but I didn’t hate you. And I always believed you.”

“Y-you did?” Silver asked. She moved to adjust her glasses but paused, and rubbed her cheeks instead. “But after what happened last weekend, I thought…”

“That because you lied to me about one thing, I’d assume you lied about everything?” Sweetie Belle asked. She shifted away from Silver and smirked. It was a strange expression on her small, wilted face. “I know everypony thinks that I’m silly and naive, but I thought you knew better than that,” she said.

“I do!” Silver said, but she paused. “I… think?”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “I know when a pony is lying and when they aren’t,” she said. “I knew that you were honest about everything you told me. Even when I found out about your prank, I still believed everything. That’s why I was so upset about it.”

“Um…” Silver said, furrowing her brow. “Okay. I’m… glad, but now I’m definitely confused.”

“If I had thought that you were just leading me on all weekend, I would have still been upset,” Sweetie Belle explained, “but it would have passed. In a way I… sorta would have expected it.”

Silver winced, but she could not find herself disagreeing. “Well, that’s fair,” she grumbled.

Sweetie Belle smiled and hugged Silver again. “But I did believe you,” she said. “I knew what a wonderful pony you could be, if you had only given yourself a chance, and believed in yourself too. I was upset because of what you did to me, but I was more upset that you were afraid of me!” She looked bashful for a moment, rubbing an embarrassed flush out of her cheeks. “Maybe it’s kinda silly, but I sort of thought, after everything we’d gone through that weekend, you would have been brave for me, at least… but instead you chose Diamond.”

“That’s not silly,” Silver said. She hesitated for a moment, then lifted Sweetie Belle’s face to look her in the eyes. “I… should have trusted you. But I mean, I didn’t ‘choose’ Diamond. I mean, we’re not like that—”

“But you did!” Sweetie Belle insisted, her momentary bashfulness forgotten. “Maybe not romantically, but you still chose to do things her way, and follow through with her plan instead of just talking to me, and trusting me. In spite of everything, all the ways I thought I showed you I cared about you, you were still too afraid.” She frowned deeply, and It was clear that in spite of her forgiveness, the wound was still fresh. “That… hurt,” Sweetie said. “A lot. I didn’t know if you didn’t believe me, or if you just didn’t care enough about me… I thought I showed you that I forgave you,” she insisted. “That you were good enough. You didn’t have to do something huge, or be perfect. All I wanted was you. But you still ran away.”

“I… never thought of it that way,” Silver said. “It wasn’t you. I was… after all I’d done to you, and then pulling a prank like that on you…” She hunched her shoulders. "I didn't think anypony would forgive me, after all that."

"I could," Sweetie said. "I did. I regretted getting mad at you, afterwards. I was still angry, but... when I saw you at school, all I could think of was how I'd lost you. It hurt that you were afraid to trust me, but it hurt worse that because of that, I wouldn't get to be with one of the most beautiful, special ponies I've ever met."

Silver frowned for a moment, but found herself smiling soon enough. She brushed a stray lock out of Sweetie Belle’s face and cradled Sweetie’s face in her hooves. “You were right,” she said. “I was just too afraid to be honest. But I don’t want to be any more. That’s what all this was supposed to show you…" She laughed, flushing meekly. "Even if I kinda got it completely backwards.”

Sweetie Belle smiled back at Silver and took her hoof. “I think you’ve proved it pretty well anyways.” she sighed happily and leaned into Silver’s arms. “What are we gonna do about everypony? Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara.”

Silver’s brow furrowed. “We can still be friends with them all,” she said. “I talked to Diamond, and she’s going to try to be better too…”

“No,” Sweetie Belle said. “I mean, what are you gonna do about them all watching us right now?”

Silver blinked. “Huh?” she asked. In truth, she had completely forgotten there was anypony else in the schoolhouse with them. She looked up and saw Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara both beaming happily at them. Even Scootaloo looked impressed, though she was trying not to show it.

Diamond Tiara was the first to break from her stupor, and she coughed loudly. “Okay!” she said, giving Apple Bloom and Scootaloo a shake. “That’s enough, let's let them have their moment, come on.”

“Arright, arright,” Apple Bloom said as Diamond herded them behind the curtain of desks. “Don’t get used to this kinda thing, Diamond.”

Sweetie Belle giggled at the sight of it all, and Silver found herself joining in before long. “I talked to Diamond,” Silver said. “She’s going to try to be better too.”

“You see?” Sweetie Belle said, smiling up at Silver. “You really are amazing.” Her smiled faded for a moment, and her face screwed up. She sneezed, and giggled.

“Are you still cold?” Silver asked. “That cape isn’t really great, I guess… here, maybe these…” she began to unbutton her vest. “It’s not much, but they’re dry at least.”

“Keep them on,” Sweetie Belle said. “They suit you.” She flushed faintly, and her horn lit up. “Just one last thing,” she said. Silver Spoon glasses levitated off of the desk, floating through the air and gently placing themselves on Silver’s nose. “There,” Sweetie Belle said. “Perfect.”

Silver blushed crimson, adjusting her glasses and rubbing her cheeks. “You’re gonna have to give me a while to get used to how much of a cornball you can be.”

Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue. “You love my cornball!” she said.

“I do,” Silver admitted. She couldn’t help but smile. “But if you want me in all this, how are you supposed to get warmed up? There’s not really anything else around here. I guess we could try and get back to my house or yours, but…” She looked out the window. The storm had passed over their heads, but the rain showed no signs of stopping soon.

“There’s no way I’m going back out in that,” Sweetie Belle said, echoing Silver’s thoughts. “But… another pony under here would probably help a bit.” She opened the cloak, and her forelegs, and gave Silver a look that gave her own, well-practiced puppy-dog eyes a run for their money.

Silver smiled wider and happily slipped in between those forelegs. She cuddled close to Sweetie Belle, sharing their warmth as Sweetie wrapped the cloak around them both. They sat together, arm in arm, and watched as the rain came down. They didn’t need it to end just yet. Right there, and right then, they had each other. The sun would come out soon enough.

Chapter 5: Don Juan Triumphant

Don Juan Triumphant

Bitmore Theater was ablaze.

That is to say it was ablaze with activity. A subtle sense of commotion hung over the entire building as frenzied fashionistas and desperate designers bustled here and there. They pinched thread and needles and pilfered bolts of fabric from one another, working as hard as they could to have their creations complete for that evening.

Repairs were complete, with some small exceptions. The workers had left the theater itself, retiring beneath a heavy tarp that obscured the front of the theater to complete their work. The interior was magnificent. Pillars of the purest white stretched up to the high ceilings, closing in seats and carpets of crimson and holding up balconies swathed in gold. These vivid reds and golds coloured the halls as well. The splendid colours were sure to please the eye of any and all visitors, for that night and the many nights to come. To Sweetie Belle, however, it was deeply disquieting. Wherever she looked, she saw fire.

Sweetie lingered on a corner, saddlebags clutched to her chest, while Silver Spoon checked ahead as quickly as she could manage. The workers may have gone, but the designers were out in abundance, slowing the pair's pace to a crawl. Silver's parents had vetoed most of the back halls so that Silver and Sweetie would not get underhoof. As a result, Silver was checking around every last corner, just in case.

Silver beckoned for Sweetie to follow her and slipped down the next hallway. Sweetie swung the saddlebags over her back and dashed after Silver, falling in close behind. They stopped for just a moment as a tired-looking stallion cantered down the crossing hall. Then they were off again, slinking and skulking with all the prowess of mares too young and too small to care about.

Silver moved with a quiet sort of ease that Sweetie couldn't quite mimic. Perhaps because she could not quite understand it. If they were caught now they would be pulled out of the halls and placed under an adult's watchful eye, and they would be unable to stop whatever The Phantom was planning. For that matter, even if they made it into the prop rooms unseen, they were minutes away from the final confrontation with The Phantom. Yet Silver—Silver, who just yesterday had been paralyzed with fear at the sight of The Phantom—seemed perfectly calm.

Sweetie was terrified. She kept her legs tight for fear that, if she let them relax, her knees would wobble so violently that they would knock together and give them both away. There was a cold stone in her gut when she thought back over the plan. There was excitement in there as well, she would admit, but it was mostly fear.

Silver stopped them at another corner, across a three-way intersection from a door to the prop rooms. Silver poked her head around the corner, checking down both paths, and then signaled for them to cross. Sweetie was well-practiced by now, and she darted through the door without so much as a sideways glance. She trusted that Silver would not let her be seen.

The door slipped shut behind the pair with a soft clunk, and Sweetie felt some of her tension dissolve. She exhaled audibly, setting her saddlebags on the floor and moving away from the door. “Wow, Silver,” she said. “I can't believe you're so calm! We were sneaking for like, five minutes. Weren't you worried we were gonna get caught?”

Silver laughed and rubbed her eyes. In the dim light Sweetie Belle could see her shoulders go slack, and she seemed to wobble on her hooves. “Oh, I've been doing that since I was little. But calm?” Silver asked. “I must just be so scared I can't shake anymore.” She leaned against a nearby box of costumes and held her hoof out in front of herself. It was perfectly still. She laughed weakly. “Yup,” she said. “I'm terrified.”

Sweetie Belle giggled and joined her by the box. “Well... me too,” she said. “I know we've fought The Phantom before, and all... and I know we can beat him... but I'm still scared.” She rubbed her neck. “I don't know how Rarity handles it when she has adventures.”

Silver smiled sardonically. “I guess having backup probably helps,” she said, almost to herself. She slid down the box, sitting on the floor and resting her head on her hooves.

Sweetie Belle sat down beside her, leaning in. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but she thought she could see Silver blushing. She certainly felt warmer, which was more than welcome in the damp chill of the prop rooms. “Well,” Sweetie said, “we've got each other. That's backup, right?”

Silver looked away and rubbed her chin, but smiled. “Right,” she said. “We've... got each other.” Her smile faded, too slight a change for Sweetie to notice in the dark, and she adjusted her glasses. “We should stay here for a while. To, uh... get collected. You know, try to calm down a bit before we fight The Phantom.”

Sweetie Belle peered up at Silver. Her expression had taken on a quality that Sweetie knew well, that same stone-faced look she had worn while picking on Sweetie. Sweetie had almost forgotten her face could look so harsh. It had only been two days, but Sweetie had already gotten used to seeing the filly sad, angry, happy, and everything in between.

As she looked closer, though, she started to see subtle hints. A crease in the brow, the suggestion of a squint, and just a touch of blush. Sweetie Belle smiled and leaned closer. “Okay,” she said. “That sounds like a good idea.”

Silver managed to smile through her stony expression as well. “A-alright,” she said, adjusting her glasses. She settled in, leaning back against Sweetie Belle.

As they sat, Sweetie's eyes began to adjust to the murk. The clouds had gone and the day was bright, which helped. Shafts of yellow light streaked through the open window, igniting a million motes of dust hanging in the air. Their light hardly stretched past the squares drawn on the floor, however, and the distance was still as dark as ever. Still, she could see well enough nearby, which she took advantage of.

She scoured every inch of Silver's expression. There was little to see, and what it was was subtle. Her eyebrows were slanted over so slightly downwards, her eyes just the tiniest bit tight. The more Sweetie looked at her, the more pensive she seemed. “Yeah...” Sweetie said. “I'm not feeling that much calmer either...”

Silver blinked and looked down at Sweetie. Then she laughed. “Well,” she said. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I'm still pretty freaked out. But... I think I'm ready, actually.” She shrugged her shoulders heavily and pushed herself back against the box. “I don't... want to do this. But it has to happen.” She sighed, and her expression faded back into that stony face. “I know what needs to happen. I know what I... what we need to do. And I'm ready to do it, I guess.” She let the words hang in the air for a moment before shooting Sweetie a sardonic smirk. “Not exactly a roaring battle cry, huh?”

Sweetie Belle giggled. “I think it'd be pretty hard for us to come up with one.” She rubbed her chin. “Let's go beat up a ghost?”

Silver's smile turned a bit more genuine. “Well, it works for me,” she said, throwing her hooves up comically. She clambered to her hooves, offering Sweetie a hoof up.

Sweetie accepted it gratefully and levitated her saddlebags onto her back. “Then, let's go beat up a ghost!” she declared, mimicking Silver's gesture.

In spite of Sweetie's eager words, the mood of their journey was dour and subdued. It had taken them most of the day just to slip away from watchful eyes, and a faint tinge of orange had already stained the waning sunlight. It provided more light that the dull gloom of a cloudy day or the soft vagueness of afternoon skies, but the prop rooms were no more welcoming for it. Orange and gold reflected across every surface that could shine, sloshing and spilling throughout the room like a liquid fire.

By some miracle—or perhaps an illusion Sweetie hadn't known existed being dispelled—the light crept up even the walls, former shadows illuminated by the blaze. Those places that still remained dark were as smoke, impenetrable and suffocating. Far more so than the dark had ever been.

Sweetie Belle shied close to Silver, drawing some warmth and strength from her against the deceptively cold rooms. The taller filly had jitters of her own, however, that much was clear. Though she did not openly tremble or quake as she had in the previous days, there was a clear tightness about her. It was as though she was plagued by a heat which Sweetie was not, and it had dried and stretched her skin taut across her frame.

Regardless, she kept close to Sweetie as well. Whether to comfort Sweetie, or draw comfort from her, it was difficult to say. Perhaps it was both. Whichever it was, they both walked in silence through the creeping, cool flames.

It was Sweetie who broke the silence first. “Tell me a story?” she asked.

Silver blinked, pulled out of her thoughts. “What?” she asked. “What do you mean, tell you a story?”

Sweetie shrugged and sidled closer. “I dunno,” she said. “I just... I'm scared, and you're scared, and I thought we could use something to take our minds off of it. While we walked.”

Silver considered this, tapping her chin. “I guess... It's not a bad idea,” she said. “But I don't have any stories.”

“Yes you do,” Sweetie insisted. The weight on her heart was already beginning to lift. “You have lots of stories, you've been telling me them all weekend!”

“Only because you've been pulling them out of me like teeth,” Silver said with a wry laugh.

Sweetie giggled as well. “It wasn't very hard,” she said. “Except for the first one. Why don't you tell me a story about your family?”

Silver thought for a long moment, rubbing her chin. “Mmm... okay,” Silver said. “I think I know a good one, actually. But, if I tell it, then you have to tell the next one.”

“You mean, if you finish before we make it to the Back Room?” Sweetie asked.

“Sure,” Silver said with a shrug. “Or the next time we hang out?”

Sweetie Belle grinned wider. The last vestiges of her fear were banished by the thought of spending time with Silver after this was all over. “Okay!” she agreed, nodding eagerly. “So what's your story?”

Silver smirked at Sweetie. “Okay, okay,” she said. “I don't think it's worth getting that excited about. It's about me and my older sister.”

“Oh, right,” Sweetie said. “You mentioned her last night... how come she isn't around?”

Silver waved a hoof. “She's away pretty much all the time,” she said. “She does live in Ponyville, but not with us, and she isn't in Ponyville very much anyways. She's a musician, and she's always traveling around Equestria with her band—“

“Your sister is a rock star?” Sweetie gasped.

Silver snorted loudly. “Oh gods, no,” she said. “I don't think she even likes rock music. No, she's a classical musician. She has a few other mares and stallions she plays with for personal shows, or in symphonies or stuff. She's in Canterlot most of the time. She and I don't see each other very much, but we still get along really well.

“My sister is... dedicated,” Silver said, in what struck Sweetie as an uncharacteristically diplomatic choice of words. “I'd call her obsessed but she knows a guy who's way worse, so I dunno.” She shrugged, and Sweetie giggled. Silver continued, “When I was little, she practiced a lot. She was just starting to do music professionally, too, so she was always out doing small shows to get by.”

“Get by?” Sweetie interrupted. “But your family is super rich!”

“Well... yeah,” Silver conceded, “but that didn't matter to her. I never really asked, but I think she wanted to do it by herself... I know Mom and Daddy still helped her out here and there, though. Anyways, she was working really hard trying to make it happen. She was out all the time, and when she wasn't out she was practicing, so I never got to see her. And at the time I was really young, so...”

“So you thought she didn't like you?” Sweetie asked. Silver nodded, and no small pang of sympathy shot through Sweetie. She remembered the early days of Rarity's career—even the middle days when things had really begun to take off—and she had been busy all the time. It had been terribly easy to think that Rarity had no interest in her—or anypony else for that matter—as she sequestered herself in her room for weeks at a time.

“That all happened when I was really little,” Silver continued. “I was still in acting classes, so while it didn't feel good to think my big sister didn't like me... well, let's just say that sometimes I feel like that's the reason I was so good at acting. Having something to do made it easier to take, so I kinda threw myself into it.” She laughed wryly, adjusting her glasses. “I guess we had that much in common.

“When I couldn't act in the play, I felt pretty awful for a while,” Silver said. “Honestly, about as bad as I've ever felt. It isn’t that I avoid talking about it because it was embarrassing...” she paused for a moment and grimaced, adding, “Well. Not just, anyways.” She shook her head. “Anyways, it was a hard time for me. I was humiliated, and ashamed... for weeks, I didn't want to see anypony. I told everypony that I was sick, too sick to see them, or to go to school, or to leave my room at all. I even faked it when they checked my temperature and stuff. I stayed in my room for days, alone. I think they almost called a doctor to come see me.” She rubbed her neck. “I was dumb.”

“You were little,” Sweetie cut in, frowning. “And your were hurt. You shouldn't be hard on yourself for that. I know how it feels.”

The hint of a frown that had lingered on Silver's face faded, replaced by an equally small smile. “Thanks,” she said. “But it was still silly of me to turn away ponies who wanted to help me. But... after about a week of sulking, just when I thought that everypony had given up talking to me, my sister came into my room.

“She wasn't even supposed to be home that day—she had a bunch of auditions in Canterlot, and was supposed to be gone all week. She didn't say anything at first, either. She just walked straight up to me and yanked me out of bed.” Silver laughed and rubbed her neck. “Boy, did I get an earful. She completely chewed me out—for scaring Mom and Daddy and Kelson, and for making her come home from Canterlot, and for lying to everypony instead of facing up.”

Silver gaped. “That's awful!” she exclaimed.

“Maybe,” Silver conceded, bobbing her head back and forth. “But it's not like she was wrong. I had just been too afraid to even admit how scared I was, so I lied instead of letting the ponies who cared about me understand and help. That's all she wanted, in the end, was to help.” Her smile, previously wry and embarrassed, turned nostalgic. “And after she was finished chewing me out, she played my favourite song for me. I used to sneak to her bedroom door whenever she was practicing that song, so I could hear it better. I don't know how she knew, but...” She rubbed her cheek. “She came all the way from Canterlot, missing auditions that could have gotten her career off the ground faster, just because she cared about me. I... well, I didn't think she didn't like me after that.”

“Your sister sounds really nice,” Sweetie said, although she was still unsure. “I guess.”

Silver grinned back. “She is, I promise,” she said. “She's quiet, and she doesn't always seem like it, but she's always thinking about other ponies. She'll go from doing a big show in Canterlot to playing at somepony's wedding for free, just because. I love her a lot, even though I don't see her that often.”

“If it was me,” Sweetie said, “I'd still wish I could see Rarity more.”

“Oh, I do, don't get me wrong,” Silver said. “But she's got her own life. I know that she has stuff that she needs to do, and she can't spend all her time with me.” She shrugged. “And I guess I got used to it anyways, since Mom and Daddy get busy sometimes too... even Kelson isn't there all the time. Everypony needs their space.”

“I guess that's true,” Sweetie said. “And I guess if you put it like that, Rarity is busy a lot too.”

“And your parents go on vacation,” Silver pointed out. “Anyways, it's your turn to tell a story.”

Sweetie Belle blinked, and thought for a moment. “I...” she said slowly, wracking her mind, “don't have any stories...”

Silver raised an eyebrow at this. “Yes, you do,” she said. “You must, after all the adventures you and the rest of your friends have had. There must be at least one!”

“Well, I dunno,” Sweetie said with a weak laugh. “Telling stories is hard!”

“You've had me doing it all weekend,” Silver said. “And I pretty much never talk about myself to anypony.”

“So what makes me so special?” Sweetie Belle asked.

Silver opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She flushed, then made an expression that made Sweetie blush in turn. “Y-you just need a prompt,” Silver said. “Since we're talking about sisters, why don't you tell me a story about Rarity? I'm sure the hero of Equestria has to spend some time with her sister, and get up to some stuff, right?”

Sweetie thought about this for a while, rubbing her chin. “Actually,” she said, “I think I do have a story! It was A little over a year ago, Rarity had a huge order of dresses. Like, more than she'd ever had! I think Sapphire Shores was getting ready for another tour and wanted Rarity to make a bunch of her costumes. So Rarity was super busy, and I hadn't seen her for weeks! I don't think anypony had, actually. I really missed her, and I felt bad that she was so busy, so I offered to help her with some of the dresses.”

“I didn't know you could sew,” Silver said. “Did Rarity teach you?”

Sweetie blushed, flashing an impish grin. “I can't,” she said. “And I definitely couldn't back then. But I lied, and told her that I had been practicing and would be able to do something small. Like, you know, sew buttons on or something. I just wanted to be close to her.”

Silver smirked. “Wow,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “And here I thought you were supposed to be sweet! That sounds like something Diamond or I would do.”

“Well,” Sweetie said, her smile turning from impish to shy, “maybe that's why we get along so well now! But, I think she was desperate enough that she'd have been willing to accept anypony. So she set me down and gave me a dress that just needed buttons sewn on. And when she went back to her work, I watched over her shoulder for a while.” He blush deepened. “I thought, you know, if I just saw her do it once, then I'd be able to get it...”

“No?” Silver asked.

“No,” Sweetie giggled. “I saw her sew on a button, and I tried the first one, and, well...” She lifted a hoof, gesturing both vaguely and wildly in the way that one might attempt to pantomime a fistfight between a spider and octopus. “I, uh, managed to make a flower out of loose thread and stray stitches, though.”

Silver laughed, but stifled it quickly. “I'm so sorry,” she said, still snickering behind her hoof. “What happened?”

Sweetie Belle shrugged and blushed deeper still. “I called it quits!” she said. “I know when I'm just making something worse! So I called Rarity over, and I showed her the stitch, and I told her that I had lied.”

Silver grimaced sympathetically. “Was she mad?” she asked.

“A little,” Sweetie admitted. “But she told me it wasn't too bad, and she was happy that I at least owned up to it before I hurt too much. When I told her that I was just upset we couldn't spend more time together, she asked me if I could sit close by and sing! She told me that it helped her focus more.” She grinned, and added, “And not only that, but she made me a new dress when she was in there too. She told me she was 'inspired by my song, and just had to indulge herself'.” Once more Sweetie's smile changed, this time from shy to warm and nostalgic as she thought back on Rarity's expression that day. “It doesn't fit me anymore, but I still love it. I wore it the very next day, and like, at least once a week for months after that. I loved it so much Rarity actually had to repair it a few times because I was wearing it out.” She giggled.

“Oh yeah, I think I remember that dress,” Silver said. “The lavender one, with the music bars in the hem, right?”

“Uh-huh,” Sweetie said, nodding. “It wasn't like, real music, just music notes, but still.”

Silver smirked. “Well, I doubt Rarity knew sheet music off the top of her head,” she pointed out. “Still, it was really nice of her to do that on top of everything else.”

“Yeah,” Sweetie agreed. She smiled up at Silver, who smiled back at her. With their stories told, the pair slipped into a silence once more. It was not an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but rather a warm one, almost comforting. Nevertheless, it was a silence, and in the absence of noise lingering doubts crept back into Sweetie's mind. To stave them off a while longer she said, “Sorry... I guess that wasn't a very good story, huh?”

“What?” Silver asked, blinking. “No, it was a good story. Why would you think it's bad?”

“Well, we stopped talking right after,” Sweetie said, staring at her hooves. “Aren't stories supposed to give ponies something to talk about?”

“Not always,” Silver said. She frowned for a moment, but it quickly faded to be replaced by a slight smile. “Sometimes it's nice just to learn about somepony. Besides,” she gestured upward, and Sweetie saw that they had arrived at the entrance to the back room. “You managed to get us here. So, I think it was as good a story as anypony could ask for.” She leaned in, nudging Sweetie with an elbow. “Weren't you telling me yesterday I'm the one who should believe in myself more?”

In spite of herself Sweetie giggled, and nudged back. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Thanks. But...” she looked up at the doorway to the back room and frowned deeply. Even with Silver's warmth beside her, it was still an intimidating sight. A lingering fear crept in her belly, like a serpent awoken and uncoiling. She rubbed her stomach to settle the beast, but to no avail. “I wouldn't say no to a distraction anyways...”

Silver followed her gaze to the archway. “Me either,” she admitted. She adjusted her glasses and rubbed her foreleg. “Would it, uh... help if I was scared, and you had to give me a pep talk again?” she asked.

Though her fear did not subside, Sweetie giggled. “No,” she said. “Well, maybe. But I don't need to.” Her horn lit up, and her saddlebags flipped open. “You were right. We already know what we need to do, we just have to do it.” She pulled one of the nets out of her bag, and hung it up over the doorway. Then she slipped underneath and smiled through at Silver.

Silver smiled back and stepped through the net as well. She took a moment to brush her mane and adjust her glasses, and once again Sweetie was struck by how extraordinarily calm she looked. It was more than simply calmness, though. There was an air of determination around her that Sweetie didn't recognize. It must have been true, Sweetie realized, just how used Silver was to letting other ponies make her decisions. That was gone now, though, and confidence suited her. She was a pretty mare to begin with, but seeing her stand so straight and so firm... Sweetie smiled wider and wrapped her forelegs around Silver's.

Silver blushed furiously. “U-uh?” she asked. “Thanks?”

“I just...” Sweetie floundered, only now realizing how out of the blue her hug must have been, “I'm glad I got to see you like this. Away from Diamond. Thanks for being my friend.”

Silver's look of confidence faded for a moment, but it quickly returned and she hugged Sweetie back. “Hey,” she said, “There's no reason to talk about it like it's over. It's not like The Phantom is gonna get us, right? We have a plan.”

“Right,” Sweetie said, beaming. “We're gonna catch that Phantom!”

“That's right,” Silver said, laying a hoof on Sweetie's head. She hesitated for a moment, but brushed Sweetie's mane. “And when we do, I have a plan of my own...”

“You do?” Sweetie asked. She peered up at Silver—careful to keep her head in a position that Silver could continue her stroking—with a puzzled expression. “What plan?”

“You'll see,” Silver said. “You'll know what it is when I do it.”

Sweetie Belle frowned. She squinted at Silver, trying to catch a hint of what she had planned. “I dunno,” she said slowly.

Silver waved a hoof. “Don't worry,” she said, “I'm not gonna do anything stupid. I just want it to be a surprise.”

Sweetie's frown did not lessen, but after a long moment's deliberation she decided to trust Silver. In truth the moment was not long at all; she had decided to trust Silver from the beginning. She simply thought that Silver could use some scrutiny. “Well…” she said, “as long as you remember our first plan.”

Silver lifted her hoof to her chest in an exaggerated image of recitation. “I’ll hide, and you make the Phantom think you’re alone. Then when he comes out, I jump him.”

Sweetie grinned. “Okay,” she said. “I guess I’ll trust your plan, then.”

The two fillies stepped away from one another, and Sweetie peered into the gloom. She could see the faintest hint of the metal heart in the depths of the room. In the pale half-light its beating seemed all the more real, its form wobbling and throbbing with each clank and thump. A dim orange light emanated from within, a sure sign that The Phantom was home. She indicated this over her shoulder to Silver, who nodded. An unspoken ultimatum passed between them: there would be no speaking from this point on.

They crept further into the back room, following the line of a low-hanging pipe. The air nearby it was all the more cold for it, but having something nearby calmed Sweetie's nerves. More than once she ducked under it in response to a shifting in the shadows within the heart. She and Silver moved in inching, creeping steps. Time seemed to stretch on forever in that place, and endless and hourless expanse of inky black and dewy brass. Eventually, however, they were standing mere meters away from the heart. The shadows within it were still. The figure of the Phantom slouching in a pose of concentration, or perhaps consternation. Then again, perhaps he was simply bored again. One way or another, Sweetie's course was set.

She turned and gestured vaguely to Silver, who returned a knowing nod. Silver moved slowly, careful not to clatter or jangle as she pulled a net of her own out of her saddlebags. She unfolded it, stretching it flat against the floor, and dragged it with her under the pipe. The sound of it was deafening to Sweetie Belle, like a thousand bulls stampeding across marble floors, but The Phantom did not stir.

When Silver was in position she flashed Sweetie a smile of confirmation. Then she smiled wider, a subtle change in expression that filled Sweetie with encouragement. Sweetie smiled back and cleared her throat.

“Silver?” She called out. He voice was laden with concern, laced with a hint of fear and just a tinge of annoyance. As acting went, she had taken on harder roles. “Silver, where did you go? You can't—you can't leave me alone here, Silver!” She began to walk in small, slow circles, careful to stay where Silver could easily jump out from beneath the pipe.

“Silver, I'm serious! This isn't funny anymore, what if The Phantom comes? I don't... I don't think I can catch him alone!”

She cast a sideways glance at the brass heart, looking for a sign of The Phantom's approach. He hadn't moved at all, however, as though he hadn't heard her. She frowned and moved closer, gesturing for Silver to follow. She spoke again, raising her voice this time.

“Silver, come out! I'm scared that The Phantom got you! I'm scared that The Phantom will get me! I'm scared, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? At least say something!” Her voice was heavy with a very real fear, now. She was close enough to the heart that The Phantom must have heard her, and she drifted closer with every word. “Silver, please,” she begged, “if you're there please say something, anything! Just give me a sign that you're still alright!”

She was right beside the heart now, and still The Phantom hadn't moved. A fear that approached panic clutched at her chest, its frozen grip forcing her heart into her throat and squeezing the air out of her lungs. “F-fine then!” she stammered, leaning close. “I... I g-guess I'll just have to capture The Phantom by myself!”

She thrust her head into the heart, fighting back the urge to squeeze her eyes to shut. The sudden light of the candles stabbed at her eyes, but she forced them open until they watered. In the center of the worn, ancient nest was a cloaked figure, bent into a hunch as though by the weight of its own sins. It didn't stir, not even to recognize Sweetie's existence.

Had The Phantom died?

The thought sent a nauseous pang through Sweetie's stomach. It was all she could do to keep her hooves beneath her. For a long moment she fought back the sickly feeling. The Phantom couldn't be dead, not with the way he had been flying around and screaming just last night. It had to be some kind of trick.

Knowing something and feeling it, however, are rarely one and the same, and as Sweetie reached out for the thick black shroud she could not help but imagine a corpse beneath it, cold and hard with blank eyes that stared but never saw. Her hoof trembled so violently that she could barely take hold of the cloth. She was too frightened to take it any longer. She pulled the cloak back sharply, whipping it off the slouching figure. She squealed with fright and snapped her eyes shut, cringing away from the figure of The Phantom. It was a full, tense minute before she realized that she had closed her eyes too fast to actually see what lay beneath. Slowly, she cracked one eye open.

It was a pillow affixed to a stick, which had been wedged between two pipes to stand upright. The cloak had been draped over it, giving the impression of a slouching pony in the nest. Sweetie Belle breathed a sigh of relief. She almost laughed at herself, getting so worked up over nothing! The Phantom wasn't here.

Sweetie Belle backed out of the heart and turned to Silver on the floor, who was currently busy looking as horrified as possible. “Don't worry,” Sweetie assured her. She held up the cloak. “The Phantom isn't here. It was just a trick!”

Silver's expression eased, though not by much. A deep frown creased her face. “Then,” she said slowly, “where is The Phantom?”

In a fraction of an instant the thought struck Sweetie like an icicle in the back, cold an unexpected. In the remainder of that second a flame exploded beside her head, inches away from her face. Fire billowed out in a savage cloud, illuminating the room. Sweetie screamed, throwing herself back.

Another explosion burst around her hooves, then a third. Sweetie launched herself away from the blazes just in time for a fourth to erupt in front of her. This one was larger that the last, a pyre that chased away the shadows. The figure of the Phantom erupted through the gloom. Sharp shadows clung to his body against the fire, blacking out his eyes and painting him with an evil chiaroscuro grin. Sweetie screamed. The Phantom laughed.

“Cripes!” Silver cried, scrambling out from beneath the pipe. She snatched Sweetie by the shoulders, pulling her out of the way as The Phantom lobbed another volley of fire.

Gouts of flame erupted all around them as they ran, dodged and scurried through the back room. Sweetie Belle had long since lost track of where they were. Which direction they were facing, where the door was, she had no clue. She didn't care. The only thing she cared about was escaping the fire. The Phantom swooped overhead, laughing like a madman.

“Sweetie,” Silver said, shaking Sweetie's shoulders, “Your net! We have to use the other net!”

Sweetie only half-heard the words. Her eyes darted back and forth, searching for where The Phantom would attack from next. A flash of movement caught her eye and she shoved Silver away, dodging backwards. A pillar of flame spiked up where they had been standing, stretching high and illuminating the howling form of The Phantom as he sailed overhead

Silver's words finally struck Sweetie, and she flung down her saddle bag. She pressed herself against the floor and dug out the net. Explosions burst all around her, and she fought down the instinct to flee. When the net was finally free she flung it open and clutched at the fringes. She was too frightened to focus on her magic, and The Phantom was coming back for another pass.

Silver was shouting at Sweetie, but Sweetie tuned her out. There was no time to listen. There was no time for magic. There was no time to think. The Phantom shrieked and cackled. He held his hooves high as he turned to face Sweetie. He barreled down on her, flying faster and faster, still grinning that horrible grin. When Sweetie could see the gleam of his teeth she hurled the net with all her might.

It flew straight and true, edges flared out and spinning from the weight of its bolts. Sweetie's heart soared along with the net. In her mind's eye she could see The Phantom caught and brought to justice, and the theater saved.

An explosion erupted near the net, sending it curling and careening off-course. Another explosion twisted it further, and then another, until it was nothing but a snarled mess of string and steel that passed harmlessly beneath The Phantom. It hit the floor with a thud that shot Sweetie through the heart and skidded into the darkness.

The Phantom swooped down, grabbing Sweetie by the shoulders and hurling her. She landed on her back meters away, knocking the wind out of her. She cried out in pain and shock, but The Phantom wasn't finished. As she struggled to right herself he cast another explosion to her left, throwing her off balance. She scrambled to the right and another blaze erupted mere centimeters away from her side. She curled into a ball, trying to avoid the fireballs as best she could but they kept coming, inching closer and closer to her with each pass of The Phantom. She trembled violently, trying desperately to think of a way to escape, a way to recover this. She had nothing. There was nothing but fear, fear and panic. The Phantom was winning. They were going to die, and the theater would burn, and Rarity would be killed as well. She covered her head with her hooves, tears stinging at her eyes, and sobbed weakly.

“Dammit Diamond, that's enough!”

Diamond?

Sweetie opened a teary eye and looked up. It was Silver. She stood over top of Sweetie, shielding the smaller filly from the fire. Fires and explosions blazed all around her, illuminating an expression of intense, divine fury. Her mouth curled up into a snarl like nothing Sweetie had ever seen on any creature, much less a pony. “You're taking this too far!” she shouted.

Whatever Silver's intentions, The Phantom paid no heed. He continued to circle the fillies, still pelting them with fireballs and laughing maniacally. Silver held her ground, however, not even bothering to look at him as he swung behind her. She stared resolutely ahead, and screamed out again. “I'm not joking, Diamond! We never agreed on this, and it's too much! So cut it out, and get down here now!”

Her words carried such weight, such conviction, that Sweetie very nearly attempted to comply, to sink further into the ground. Indeed, against all odds The Phantom slowed, and descended. He landed in front of Silver. A sneer that was both disgusted and disgusting marred his face, so wide it almost disappeared beneath his mask. “Gods, Silver,” he said. “You really know to ruin a joke.”

“A joke?” Silver demanded with a stomp of her hoof. “You think throwing fire around is a joke? What's the matter with you? What if you had hit one of us!?” She clenched her teeth and gripped at her mane. “What were you thinking, Diamond? We could have been hurt, or worse! For that matter, what if you had actually started a fire? The whole theater could have burned down!”

The Phantom rolled his eyes. “Ugh, relax, Silver,” he said. He reached into his cloak and produced a small green-and-orange bobble. “It's just flashfire, it can't burn anything. It's not even hot, see?” He smashed the bobble between his hooves and an enormous flame erupted, engulfing his legs and face. The fire quickly subsided however, revealing The Phantom to be completely unharmed. “I picked up a bunch of them from a fireworks stall downtown last night.”

“And you didn't think it would be good to tell me that?” Silver asked. She gestured back to the brass heart and her discarded net, still lit by a few lingering flames. “You know, warn me first so I didn't freak out and assume you'd gone crazy!?”

“Yeah, well, maybe I would have,” The Phantom said, jabbing a hoof into Silver's chest, “if you had bothered to actually show up and talk to me yesterday, like you were supposed to. What was I supposed to do? You obviously weren't doing a good job of making sure I wasn't caught!”

“That wasn't supposed to be my job,” Silver said. She took a step closer to The Phantom, who up close was surprisingly small. He and Silver were nearly equal in height. In fact, Silver may have been slightly taller. They stood nearly nose-to-nose as Silver shouted, “I was just supposed to get back here, I assumed you could figure out a way to avoid getting pulled down like an idiot without having to traumatize Sweetie!” She blinked, and her expression turned from one of anger to one of fear. Her head snapped back to Sweetie, as though she had only just remembered the filly was underneath her. “Sweetie!” she said. She leaned down and offered Sweetie a hoof. “Are you alright?”

Sweetie blinked. She had been taking the argument in dumbly, unable to process it. Diamond? Sweetie sat up without Silver's hoof. She looked between Silver and The Phantom. “Silver...” she asked. Her voice was soft. It had to fight its way through her tight-clenched throat. “Do you... know The Phantom? What's going on?”

Silver winced hard enough that even Sweetie could see it. “I...”

“Of course she knows me, you dork,” The Phantom said. “You don't seriously still believe there's a real Phantom, do you? Gods, I know you're dumb but I still only thought you'd be fooled for like, two days tops. Especially after yesterday.” The Phantom pulled off his mask, revealing the face of Diamond Tiara, no less horrific, beneath. When she spoke again her voice had returned to normal as well. “Boo, loser.”

“Diamond!” Silver snapped.

“Oh, what?” Diamond asked, sneering at Silver. “Don't act like you're all high and mighty, it's not like you weren't involved. Oh no, we scared the baby.” She waved her hooves mockingly. “Big whoop. It was funny, until you ruined it.”

“Wh...” Sweetie said weakly. She stared up at Silver. Silver couldn't meet her gaze, adjusting her glasses and hiding behind them. “Is that true?” Sweetie asked. “Was this really all just...” She fought to say the words aloud, “a prank on me?”

“Y...yeah,” Silver admitted. “But—“

“The plan was great,” Diamond cut Silver off. “She just had to drag you back here every day, then I would scare the crud out of you, and we'd both laugh about it later! The perfect way to spend a weekend.” She threw up her hooves and snorted.

“Diamond, shut up!” Silver barked over her shoulder. She turned back to Sweetie. “Sweetie,” she said, “I'm... Sweetie, I'm so sorry. It started that way. That was the reason I tried to make friends, but I promise, that isn't it. I don't still feel that way.”

“Then how do you feel?” Sweetie demanded. She pulled herself to her hooves and searched Silver's face. Sweetie's stomach ached, twisting itself in tight knots and tangling her guts. “Silver, I don't understand. What about... what about everything you told me? Were you really just leading me on?”

“No!” Silver insisted. She stepped towards Sweetie. Sweetie stepped back. “I was going to tell you, I promise. Once we caught The... once we caught Diamond today, before we took off her mask I was going to tell you!”

Sweetie couldn't explain why, but those words drove a sharp pain through her heart. It felt like someone had torn it out of her and filled the hole with ice. Coldness stretched across her back and filled her body. Her bones ached. Her mouth went dry. “Y-you,” she stammered, “you think that makes it okay!?”

Silver winced again, looking like she had been whipped. Good. Sweetie was glad that Silver was hurt. She wanted Silver to feel like she did. “You were only going to tell me after? What's the matter with you!?” She stepped forward now, drawing herself up to shout in Silver's face. “Why? Why not sooner? You could have told me any time, Silver! Why didn't you tell me on the first night, or yesterday... you could have told me before we walked through that door!” Tears stung her eyes, and her throat was hoarse, but she screamed anyways. “Was it just a game to you? Just... just a joke? Do you have any idea how scared I was? I thought we were gonna die!”

“No that isn't ! I... I was scared,” Silver said. “I thought that if I told you, then you'd...” she clung to her forelegs weakly. “I do care about you, so much more than I thought, and I was afraid to push you away...”

Silver's words hung in the air like sullen, threatening storm clouds. “I would have forgiven you,” Sweetie said; a roll of thunder. “Why couldn't you see that? Wasn't everything that happened this weekend enough to show you how much I cared about you? Or did you just not care about me? How am I supposed to believe you?”

“No, Sweetie,” Silver said, nearly a whimper. She reached out, but Sweetie slapped her hoof away.

Tears streamed down Sweetie's face like rain. “Shut up,” she said. “I don't want to hear it anymore. I don't want to hear you anymore.” She swallowed hard. “I met a pony this weekend,” she said. Her voice was cracked and weak, and she could barely speak, but she forced out the words. “I met a pony who I thought was good. A pony who had... made bad decisions, and who had made mistakes, but was good in her heart.” She clutched at her chest, fighting to keep from breaking down. “She was sweet, and caring, and didn't make fun of me when I did something stupid. She was beautiful and graceful, and even though she didn't feel good about herself I knew she was so amazing... that she could be so good if she would only just try, for once. And I had so much fun being with her, and dancing with her, and listening to her talk, and I... but she wasn't real.” She blinked away the tears, but they kept coming until she could hardly see. “I wanted to like you so badly, Silver,” she said. “I wanted us to be friends, or... or... I wanted you to be nice. I don't know why I bothered. Diamond is right, I am stupid. Stupid to think you'd ever change. I thought you'd start being nice two years ago, when we got our cutie marks, but you didn't. You acted like it for a while, but you just went back to being jerks. I thought you cared about me... I thought you liked me, but all you care about is yourself and your... stupid games!” She grit her teeth and squeezed her eyes shut, and she screamed. “You're selfish, and you're mean, and I should never have expected anything different from you!”

She stepped back and turned away from Silver. Through blurry eyes she saw the light of the exit. “I hate you, Silver.” She said. Then she left.

Over her shoulder she heard Silver cry out to her, begging to her to wait, to come back, but she didn't. Sweetie tuned out her voice. She couldn’t hear Silver right now, not when every word, every memory, tore at her heart all the more. It was all she could do to walk. She wanted to collapse, and sleep forever. She wanted to cry until she drowned the world. She wanted to take out her heart and hide it away so it would stop hurting her. She wanted her sister. She wanted everpony to leave her alone. She wanted to be lied to again.

Silver Spoon and Sweetie Belle returned to the theater through separate doors, and sat on opposite sides of the auditorium. The fashion show went perfectly.