Night Owls

by Rambling Writer

Rating: teen
Tags: Crystal Ponies, Adventure, Princess Celestia, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Princess Luna, Thriller, Changelings, Original Character, Mystery
Length: 69764

With trouble brewing on the horizon, it's time for a new set of ponies to take up the Elements of Harmony... assuming they can find who stole them.

Seventy years after the show, the Elements of Harmony have been stolen. The thieves left no trace, not so much as a single clue to follow. The only lead: a single pony who happened to see them leave. But with the threat of violence if she talks hanging over her head, she's scared and in hiding. Fearing for the safety of Equestria, Celestia and Luna dispatch a small set of ponies, led by royal guard Iron Phalanx, to track her down, find out what she knows, and, above all, keep her safe.

But you don't steal the Elements unless you're up to something big, and the thieves aren't keen on letting that something get out so easily. As they do their best to impede the group's progress, other machinations run, their motives unknown, and the first strike, an attempted invasion of Canterlot Castle, is just the tip of the iceberg. Every lead simply opens more questions as ever more unlikely links are found.

Phalanx and his group aren't deterred by this. Not in the slightest. But the more clues they uncover, the more it's clear the rabbit hole goes far deeper than anyone realizes...

Published 2016-01-26 21:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-07-26 17:37:49 UTC

1 - Witness

Amber Waves couldn’t sleep.

She was a chronic on-again off-again insomniac, and tonight, unfortunately, was an “on” night, which was why she was currently meandering through empty streets past midnight. At least it wasn’t too bad. Her sleeplessness rarely lasted more than two nights in a row. She’d probably get to sleep tomorrow.

…So was it actually insomnia, or something else, if anything? Amber’d never gone to a doctor to get it diagnosed or whatever, as it wasn’t that bad, so she might just be a bit paranoid. It was sporadic; insomnia was generally more constant, right? But she’d had it since she was pretty much a filly. Every month or so, she’d have a night where she just couldn’t get to sleep, even if she was really tired. Amber only really noticed once she’d grown up, so she’d never talked to her parents about it, but she probably wouldn’t’ve talked about it if she had noticed it. It could just be coincidence, but now that she thought about it, it could be symptomatic (was that the word?) of something else. Something in the brain, maybe. Like, something was affecting the areas that let her sleep, and it stayed in there a while, and kept growing, and byCelestiaamIahypochondriac?

Well, hypochondria was pretty much the one thing hypochondriacs didn’t worry about, so probably not. Amber chuckled. That was certainly a roundabout way to reach that conclusion.

With nothing better to do, the Crystal Pony was wandering around Ponyville. Moon- and starlight glinted off her yellowy-bronzy coat. Amber didn’t know why, but it seemed like her coat looked a bit different in this light compared to sunlight. Crystals were like that, though, so she didn’t think too much about it. Her mane and tail were small but bushy, threaded in thick stripes with dark red and, well, amber. (Amber sometimes wondered what would’ve happened if her parents had named her Dark Red Waves.) Perched atop her mane was, as always, her railroad cap. Engineers hadn’t traditionally worn that cap in… probably over a century, but she’d always liked the style. Enough so that when her cutie mark revealed itself as a locomotive, Amber was happy that she’d have even more of a justification to wear it.

This being past the middle of the night, the streets of Ponyville were completely deserted, barring herself, obviously. It might’ve seemed creepy to other ponies, but, having done this sort of thing a bunch of times in the past, Amber was used to it, and actually liked it a bit. It had the feeling of being completely alone while still sort of close to others. The wind that blew through the town was that not-exactly-cold-but-very-biting chill of mid-autumn. The decorations for this year’s Nightmare Night were already up, even though that wasn’t until tomorrow night; getting ahead on things, Amber supposed. She had never been around for the celebration previously, but, given Ponyville’s size, it didn’t surprise her that it seemed to be one of those towns where holidays were an “everybody come to one big party” deal.

Amber liked Ponyville. Not too large, not too small, friendly. She’d stayed here a few times, both in her job and on a vacation or two, and even knew some of the locals. Good town. All she had to do was stay out of the Everfree Forest.

Which, she suddenly realized, her ramblings had just brought her to. She glanced down at the road for a moment, her orange eyes taking in what details they could in the half-light. If the Ponyvillians were so afraid of the place, why was there a road right to it? “Hey,” Amber muttered to herself, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s take the one place in Equestria where things operate differently and we’re incredibly scared of, and build a road right into the heart of it.” She looked back up. “You guys sure aren’t that smart, are you?”

A twig snapped in the dark.

Amber squeaked, turned on a dime, and kicked up a small cloud of dust as she bolted away as fast as her hooves could take her. I just had to open my big mouth. She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Whatever was there, it wasn’t following her.

Amber slowed from a gallop down to a slow walk, taking in deep breaths. Too much excitement. I need to take it a bit more easy. And stay away from that dang place.

As she made her way toward the town hall, Amber glanced up. At that very moment, a shooting star raced across the sky, raising her spirits a bit. Was there going to be a meteor shower tonight? She wasn’t one to keep track of astronomy. But the stars were pretty.

…You know, somehow, I never did any stargazing…

Oh, why not? It wasn’t like anything else was going on. Amber climbed the few steps to the town hall’s veranda and lay down on the floor. If the hall wasn’t locked, she’d’ve headed up to the balcony, but the view down here was fine.

After a few minutes of looking, Amber decided that the stars weren’t pretty. They were beautiful. It might’ve just been the clear night, but there was just something… aetherial about them that Amber hadn’t noticed before. Small dots, mere specks of light floating in a nigh-endless sea of dark, shining brightly in spite of all that surrounded them, all across the dome of the sky. Even though the view didn’t change, it felt like she could look all night and still pick find new details: a cluster here, a reddish one over there (How did I miss all their colors before?), an especially twinkling one here… She didn’t see any more shooting stars, but that didn’t matter much to her; the stars themselves, along with the moon, were enough.

Amber’s attention was periodically drawn to the moon for a few seconds at a time. It was different than the stars in the way it felt, and not just because it was a lot bigger and brighter. It… Amber couldn’t say how, but it definitely felt a bit different. She could see a few patterns on the moon, left from she didn’t know what. She kind of wished the Mare in the Moon was still there for her to see, just to get a feel for it.

It must’ve been strange for ponies all those decades ago, she thought, having the moon appear a certain way for as long as they could remember, and then suddenly change overnight. I wonder how many ponies that threw off.

…Although, why would Nightmare Moon’s presence there change the appearance so m-

Something moved in the corner of her eye, derailing her train of thought. Amber rolled over and pushed herself to her hooves, squinting into the gloom. After spending several hours in the night, her eyes were well-adjusted to the dark, and she could pick out a few ponies, although she wasn’t sure of the exact number. Two at least, probably three or four. They looked like they were heading to the outskirts of town, possibly toward the Rainbow Friendship Royal Library.

Amber was torn. Anypony who skulked around in groups like that after dark was probably up to no good. (I’m alone, so I don’t count.) If she started snooping, that no good might happen to her, and that would be no good. Besides, she just wasn’t the type to start spying on possible criminals in the middle of the night. She’d just run away from the sound of a snapping twig, for Celestia’s sake! You really shouldn’t be snooping, Amber.

But on the other hoof, there was a difference between then and now. The twig was in the Everfree, where she didn’t know what the hay the thing snapping it could be. Here, it was just ponies. Eeeeeeevil ponies, maybe, but ponies nonetheless. The possibility of being torn limb from limb was significantly smaller. Plus, there was something kind of invigorating about possibly sneaking about, not getting noticed by them. Not quite an adrenaline rush, but a similar sort of high. But it’s so much fun, Amber!

After a second’s debate, Amber began creeping toward the ponies. They didn’t seem particularly observant, letting her get fairly close before ducking behind a bush. They probably weren’t expecting anypony to be up this time of night, and, well, if not for a certain not-quite-insomniac, they’d be right. They were moving with a purpose, not particularly quickly, but at a good trot, and definitely toward the library. Amber followed as best she could, trying to break the sightlines between herself and them as much as possible. She didn’t want to get caught if one of them happened to look over their shoulder.

There were three of them, with a unicorn mare leading the group. A pegasus mare and an Earth pony stallion followed close behind. They were very focused, barely deviating from their course at all or even looking around. Their manes and tails were awfully short; whether because they were trimmed or because it was natural, Amber couldn’t tell, although she suspected the former. Their designs were far too similar for it to be natural, to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell them apart if not for the unique bits of their respective pony races. It seemed cultish, how so exact each one was to the other. She couldn’t tell their colors; it was too dark for that.

As they began heading for the outskirts of town, Amber dimly reflected that she really didn’t know whether or not they were “bad guys”. Being out here at this time was suspicious, sure, but what did she know? She didn’t live in Ponyville; they might be residents here that she didn’t recognize. Night watchponies or janitors or something. Or just plain hikers or something, just passing through; the library was on a semimajor road out of town. You could look like you were heading there when you were actually heading towards Canterbury on the other side of the country.

But Amber’s interested had been piqued, and there was no stopping her now. No matter how much she rationalized why they could be out here and she shouldn’t be following them, some stupid part of her mind pushed that thought away and yelled at her to keep going. There was just… something about them. Something that felt just a bit scheming.

And then they were in front of the library, coming thiiiis close to confirming her suspicions. If they pulled out a key from somewhere, she’d be wrong. (Probably. A copy was always a possibility.) But otherwise…

Not one to give up, Amber took cover in a bush, shielding herself with leaves as much as possible. Years of book-reading and movie-watching (mainly the latter) had told her that ponies who broke into places in the middle of the night generally looked around a bit to see if the coast was clear, just in case. Two of them might even serve as guards.

The unicorn glanced around briefly, placed her horn against the door, and after a few moments, it opened, validating all of Amber’s misgivings. They were breaking in.

The unicorn took one last look around and headed in. Evidently, they were following some sort of plan; the Earth pony and pegasus assumed guarding positions outside the door without any words being exchanged. Whatever the unicorn was doing in there, it’d probably take a while. Amber wanted to get up to the windows to see what was going on, but she couldn’t without risking being seen by the other ponies. She’d have to content herself with sitting in this bush until they left.

So, what were they up to? They might just be breaking into a library, but then they were probably breaking into the Rainbow Friendship Royal Library. Formerly a palace during Princess Twilight’s… (“reign” felt too strong. Presidence?) presidence there, it had been converted to a library as one of her last wishes about a decade ago. And in a way, “library” was a bit of a misnomer, since sometimes it resembled a museum a bit more, showcasing this or that interesting bit of Equestrian history. Only a few months ago, it had undergone some renovation, adding another wing, both to enlarge its Rare Books collection and to add a bit more space for the temporary displays or something. So they were probably after something from the “museum” bit. Not that books were completely out of the question, but it just seemed more likely that there was some relic or something that these guys were interested in. Unfortunately, Amber didn’t know what was in at the moment.

There was a brief flash of light from inside the library, coupled with a dull thud. The ground shook a little, dislodging a few leaves from a nearby tree, but nothing major. Still, something like that kind of was major, in and of itself. What could cause that?

The windows Amber could see suddenly turned black, darker than they had been before. Soon after, the unicorn reemerged from inside the library, followed by a billowing cloud of thick black smoke. It clung to the ground unnaturally, almost like a liquid, and expanded rapidly, quickly obscuring everything nearby from Amber’s sight. Some of it even reached Amber’s bush. She reflexively shut her eyes and rubbed them, trying to get some of the soot out.

When she opened her eyes again, Amber didn’t see the group; they had moved on under cover of the smoke. Worried that she had lost them, Amber hurriedly glanced around and spotted them heading back towards Ponyville. After waiting a few moments to let them put some distance between her, Amber followed the four of them into town, wh-

She followed the four of them into…

She followed the four of them?

Amber blinked, squinted. Yes, there were now four ponies instead of just three. The new one was leading them -- she could tell it was the new one because of mane and tail differences -- and was a unicorn, although she couldn’t tell whether they were a mare or a stallion. Probably a mare; the mane seemed a bit too flowy and wavy for a stallion. Still, she couldn’t be certain, so she let that matter slide for now. His/her horn seemed awfully pointy, but in the dark, it was hard to tell. (S)he had a set of saddlebags, loaded with something, well-secured.

Where’d they come from? I can’t remember seeing them come out of the library. Did they meet up with the others somewhere and I just missed them? But then why’d they not just come the first time? Was it something they did in the library? Or w- Amber pushed that thought to the back of her mind. She’d get back to it when she had more information.

So. Amber followed the four of them into town. They behaved pretty much the same with the new one as they had before. If anything, the original three now seemed to be following the new unicorn. Again, no words exchanged, so picking up Unicorn 2 wasn’t a surprise. But still… why why why? And what had they done to the library?

Amber quickly recognized the path they were taking, having walked it numerous times before: they were headed towards the train station. Their escape route, then. There weren’t any scheduled trains for Ponyville tonight; they were probably thinking they’d steal one. Well, maybe she could alert the police or somepony in the time it took for them to start it up. Trains weren’t exactly as simple as “push the button and go”.

Unfortunately, that plan was dashed as they rounded the corner for the last leg to the station. Amber felt it more than heard it; a small rumbling in the earth, at first nearly impossible to notice unless you were used to it, and steadily growing bigger. She glanced down the tracks. A small train was gliding down the tracks towards the station, with only a few boxcars. Based on the livery, the locomotive was from the Manehattan-Baltimare line for some strange reason. Its headlamp was on, and although going slow, it didn’t seem to be actually stopping.

It didn’t. The train passed through the station just as the ponies reached it. They galloped alongside the train a short ways, matching speed, and leapt into the last boxcar; its door was open. As soon as the train left the platform, it began speeding back up.

Amber skidded to a halt on the platform, just a bit too late to do anything except watch the train leave. Who are these people? I can see them breaking into the library for… something… but to perfectly time their escape like this? These guys are professionals. I’m lucky they didn’t see me.

At that moment the first unicorn stuck her head back out of the boxcar. She glanced in the direction they were going, then back towards the station. Then she visibly stiffened, her head still pointed in Amber’s direction. Amber held her breath; it was still dark. She could be missed. Don’t see me don’t see me do-

A ball of light shot from the unicorn’s horn, impacting right next to Amber. She yelped, shuffling back from it, before realizing with a jolt that she was practically illuminated with a spotlight from the unicorn’s magic. The unicorn could see every inch of her, plain as day.

Amber was so shocked she forgot to run, instead freezing on the spot and staring after the train. Another ball of light was perched on the horn of the unicorn, her features visible to Amber. Her eyes were a deep, deep purple, almost black; a stark contrast against her bleached-yellow coat and white-gray mane. Her mane was just as short as it had appeared earlier and definitely cut that way. She narrowed her eyes, smirked, and drew a hoof across her neck before pulling back into the boxcar and closing the door behind her.

There was no way the second light was an accident. The unicorn had wanted Amber to see the threat.

The ball of light winked out, leaving Amber standing on the platform in the dark, her knees knocking together. She was still trying to process everything she had seen and going into shock; as the color drained out of her coat, she began hyperventilating and all she could think was, I’m dead. I just wanted to go for a walk at night and now a criminal’s seen me and I’m dead.

I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.

After a few minutes, Amber began trying to slow her breathing; anything to get away from the fact that she was dead. Her mind began racing a mile a minute. Okay. Gotta think. What to do. Heading home tomorrow because of job. Maybe give witness report before heading back to Crystal Empire.

She forced her legs to start moving, heading back to the hotel she was staying at. She couldn’t stay here. Or maybe just head home and not implicate myself any more. Maybe. Take some days off at home. Week. Maybe more. Just to calm down. Calm down calm down calm down. Find me there? Maybe. She knows I’m Crystal Pony. But Empire big place. Take a while. Skip town? Maybe. Start packing, just in case. Can’t let them get me.

Amber pushed open the door to her room, jumped into bed, and pulled the covers over her head. She’d never get to sleep now, even if she wasn’t an insomniac. But it made her feel an iota safer. Her thoughts began to slow down a little. Will I need to draw up a will? Celestia, I hope not. But… She took a deep breath. Maybe I’m overreacting. I-I mean, maybe this wasn’t as major as I thought. It could be, right? There are plenty of important and not-so-important things in there. Maybe I won’t need to be a witness.

The next morning the Elements of Harmony were announced stolen.

2 - An Assignment

Sergeant Iron Phalanx was, by all appearances, about as stereotypical as a pegasus Royal Guard could get. Arctic blue eyes, grayish-azurish mane immaculately trimmed and a bit short, white coat. He was well-built, spending considerable time to keeping himself fit, and a touch taller than most ponies. His skill with the pike was such that he had been training ponies in the art of polehoof combat for several years now; his cutie mark was a pair of crossed pikes.

He was, in fact, involved in training at this moment. He ducked under the rubberized pike swung at his head. “Come on,” he said to his opponent as he shuffled a bit out of range, “you call that a sweep? You’re too high! Aim lower!” His speech wasn’t inhibited in the slightest by the mouthguard he was wearing.

The Earth pony trainee, one Buck Pryor, blinked, readjusted his stance, and took a step forward. After an instant’s hesitation, he swung again, taking Phalanx’s advice. He aimed for just above the knees; not high enough to duck under, not low enough to jump over. A perfect hit.

Or at least, it would’ve been if Phalanx hadn’t swept his wings down at the same time he jumped, taking him a little further into the air and neatly over the pike by an inch. “I’m a pegasus!” he snapped as he landed. “Know your opponent’s abilities! Is this the best you got?”

Pryor was sweating, although only part of that was nerves. The two of them had been at it a while and working up a heat the chilly breeze of early evening couldn’t quite alleviate. But Phalanx could tell the kid was stressing out; he hadn’t managed to land a clean hit yet. Of course, if he could, he wouldn’t need to go through pikepony training. But he wouldn’t think of that; the new blood never did. Including, Phalanx reflected, himself, when he was new, but look at him now.

Pryor shuffled a bit, and swung for Phalanx’s center of mass. This would’ve been a near-perfect hit -- just a bit too high for pegasi to jump over, still to low to duck under -- if it hadn’t been so telegraphed. Phalanx raised a wing and sidestepped to go with the pike a little, minimizing the force of its impact on his flank, then clamped his wing down, pinning the pike. He turned on the spot, wrenching the pike from Pryor.

A bit too easily, as it turned out. The trainee had yanked his hooves out of the handles of the pike the moment Phalanx had lowered his wing, and Phalanx turned too hard, almost losing his balance. He recovered, but not before Pryor had jumped forward and landed on the pike, forcing it to the ground and out of Phalanx’s grip.

Not bad, Phalanx admitted to himself. But you didn’t praise cadets until you were done with them. Besides, Pryor had broken Phalanx’s hold on the pike rather than using it as a lever or something similar, and was a bit too close to him to be safe. Still an amateur.

Phalanx bit down on Pryor’s mane, the mouthguard preventing him from doing any actual damage. But damage wasn’t his intent; Phalanx dropped to one side, rolling over and pulling the overbalanced Pryor with him. As he continued the roll, he scooped a wing under the pike and flipped it up into the air. He neatly stopped the roll with Pryor beneath him and pressed a hoof into his chest, keeping him from rising. Phalanx grabbed the pike out of the air with his mouth and lightly poked its rubber end into Pryor’s nose. Defeated.

For a moment, the two of them simply held their positions, panting slightly. Then Phalanx removed his hoof from Pryor’s chest and dropped the pike to the ground. “I think we’re done here for today.” He walked to the edge of the training field and spat the mouthguard into the relevant dish. “You’re improving. Moving faster and hitting harder.”

“Thank you, thir,” said Pryor. He didn’t have much experience with mouthguards and still sounded a bit like a colt with his first retainer. “I’ve been working on my thtanthes.” He spat his own mouthguard out. “I only just realized -- I mean, really realized -- how important hoofwork is.”

“I noticed. But you still need to work on placement; a good hit could leave you unbalanced. Your hooves are too widely spaced, and when you’re on three legs, you’re not compensating for the one you lifted.”

Pryor began to grow pink and was suddenly incredibly interested in a blade of grass. Phalanx wasn’t sure why; most trainees still had placement issues at this stage, so he was hardly behind. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Dismissed.”

Pryor nodded and left the practice field.

Phalanx rolled his forelegs in their joints; he’d been doing this for years, now, and still got sore after a good day’s training. You’d think that that’d stop eventually, but evidently, the universe had other plans. Maybe it was karmic payback for not getting sore when the trainees swung at him and they missed or he dodged. Which didn’t explain why he still got sore when they got good and started hitting him, but whatever.

He was about to leave when a mare wearing the uniform and bag of a royal courier shot out of the doorway and skidded to a halt right in front of him. “Sergeant Iron Phalanx?” Before he’d finished nodding, she said, “Message for you, sir. From Princess Luna.” She shoved a scroll at him and was gone before he could say anything else.

She must be running late, Phalanx thought. Laying the scroll on a table, he broke the seal and rolled it out. Royal letterhead screamed at him from the top of the paper, almost crowding out the first few lines. Sergeant Iron Phalanx, the note said, I wish to speak with you regarding certain recent matters. Please meet with me at the statue in the city square at nine o’clock tonight. --Luna

That was short. Phalanx flipped the scroll over, but there was nothing on the other side. Hmm. Maybe she just didn’t want to risk the information “certain recent matters” getting out -- whatever they were, although Phalanx had a good idea.

What could Luna want with me? he thought, staring at the note. Was it something with the Elements of Harmony? Maybe, but why him? There were plenty of others who’d probably be better qualified. But the Princess would have a reason. Right? She and Celestia were smart; for all he knew, they made this decision together, and in that case…

Phalanx pushed the thoughts out of his mind; he’d ask Luna when he met with her. In the meantime, he still had a few hours to kill before the meeting. And if he was being sent out somewhere, he had a few affairs to get in order.

Phalanx waited by the large statue of Luna in the city square. He was early, but he’d rather be early than late.

He had seen Princess Luna, of course, and was somewhat shocked to see her acting far outside the decorum usual for a princess. It was one thing to hear that she was more approachable on Nightmare Night, but quite another to see her soaking wet after bobbing for apples or chasing after gleefully shrieking foals while wearing cheesy plastic fangs or declaring victory in the pumpkin-catapult game with the Royal Canterlot Voice. Phalanx would never have thought she’d go that far. What next, was she going to start dressing up?

And then there was the large pile of candy next to the statue. He knew that the foals left it out to keep “Nightmare Moon” from gobbling them up, and so Luna would most likely claim it… but then what? Would she throw it away? From what little he knew of Luna as a person, she was a bit too polite for that. Donate it? To whom? Equestria had charities, sure, but it was unlikely that they’d accept this sort of loose candy, even from one of the Princesses. Eat it? That seemed the most likely, but that wasn’t saying a whole lot. It was hard to picture Luna chowing down on a Horshey bar. The whole tradition seemed a bit silly to Phalanx; ponies of her stature eating candy was just one of Those Things that simply Did Not Happen.

That didn’t stop him from swiping a piece or two, though. Not like anypony’d notice them missing.

A shadow passed over him as Luna flew in from a corner of the square. As she settled in front of him, Phalanx respectfully bowed down to the ground, wings spread. “Your Highness.”

Luna folded her own wings. “At ease, Sergeant.”

Phalanx straightened up, ready to talk about whatever Luna wanted to talk about, when he noticed that she still had the plastic fangs in her mouth. And once he noticed, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Seeing them on Luna, all elegant and regal, like that was just so… cheesy. Dorky. Bizarre. Goofy.

He only realized that he was staring when Luna asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Well, um,” said Phalanx sheepishly, “pardon me, Your Highness, but… you’ve still got… the, uh…” He poked a hoof at his mouth.

“Hmm?” asked Luna, tilting her head. Then, “Ah, yes. My apologies.” She spat the fangs out and tucked them away.

Oh, hay. Why not ask her? “Your Highness, I… I was wondering,” began Phalanx, then cut himself off. It felt like asking the question would be… insubordinate, almost, or improper; he found it hard to get the words out.

But Luna didn’t seem to notice his anxiety, or (more likely, given her previous attitude) simply didn’t care. She nodded and made a “continue” gesture.

Phalanx swallowed, concealing his nervousness at questioning a Princess, and continued. “I was wondering, why do you act like you do on Nightmare Night? I… It just doesn’t make much sense to me, seeing a Princess squealing like a schoolfilly because she was better at tossing toy spiders than anyone else.” And already he felt like his question was stupid. Too personal.

Luna gave a quick, lilting laugh. “Have you ever really thought about that behavior, Phalanx? Or did you merely hear of it, dismiss it as something odd, and then push it to the back of your mind?” Her voice wasn’t the slightest bit angry; more amused.

“The latter, I… guess,” said Phalanx. He guiltily shuffled his hooves. I never really did think about it, did I? “Although…” Gears were already turning in his head. “I suppose you’ve got have one day to relax and just have fun.”

“There is more to it than simple fun,” said Luna, “although I do like discarding the trappings of royalty for one night. It is partially born from tradition; in the first few years after the Reunion, there were ponies who, quite understandably, still associated me with Nightmare Moon and their fear of her. My informality here…” She waved a hoof around the square. “…started as a way for them to get over that fear, for them to see that Nightmare Moon was a thing of the past. When they had grown used to me, I…” She rubbed the back of her neck. And was she looking sheepish? “…confess that I had grown to like my little outings, and so kept them up. It is still a good way for me to stay close to my subjects, to keep me from becoming so distant that I forget who I am Princess of.”

She glanced furtively around them, then at the candy pile. A piece levitated out of it as Luna leaned in close to Phalanx and said in a stage whisper, “Also, I get free candy.”

Phalanx blinked. Was she being serious? He coughed. “Milady,” he said, “forgive if I’m stepping out of line, but don’t you think… you might be a bit… old for candy?”

Luna raised an eyebrow and gave him a mock look of surprise. “Too old for free candy?” she asked, faux-offended. She ate the piece out of the air. “NEVER!” she thundered. Literally. In spite of the cloudless night, lightning cracked through the square and her Royal Canterlot Voice reverberated with a dozen others. Far too much of an overreaction to be anything but a joke, although the suddenness still made Phalanx jump a bit.

“Well, then,” said Phalanx, smoothing his mane, “perhaps I should attend next year’s Nightmare Night.”

“Be sure to wear a costume,” said Luna. She cleared her throat, and her voice became more serious. “Now, to business. I assume you are aware of what happened in Ponyville last night?”

“Yes, of course,” said Phalanx, nodding. “But isn’t somebody already working on it? I haven’t heard anything about that, but I figured…”

“We do, but…” Luna’s voice grew grim. “But I doubt this will be so easy as simply investigating a robbery. Do you know how just much protection went into the Elements? Besides the usual physical barriers, there was layer upon layer upon layer of spells, wards, enchantments, all undone. And we haven’t the slightest clue who or what did it.” She sighed and gazed off into the distance. “Dark days are ahead.”

She blinked and came back to here and now. “So I’m sending you to Ponyville to assist in the investigation. Call me paranoid, but I think whatever stole the Elements won’t appreciate us poking around their handiwork. I’m sending a magic specialist to aid in the investigation, and I want you to be able to provide some protection for her.”

“Understood, milady,” said Phalanx, bowing slightly.

“You’ll meet her at the train station tomorrow morning,” continued Luna. “I’ve already booked you a pair of seats on the 9:37 train to Ponyville. She’ll have your tickets.”

“Again, understood.” Then Phalanx realized: “What’s her name?”

“Chandrasekhar Lina.”

Phalanx’s mind actually skipped a beat trying to process the name. It was… long. And strange. Probably not originally from Equestria. Indeccania, maybe? It sounded a bit like it. But whatever. The name just didn’t stick in his mind. He tried to cover his surprise with a cough. “Um… could you repeat that, please?”

“Chandrasekhar Lina.” Luna didn’t seem to notice Phalanx’s worry at all, even if she could probably guess it.

Chandra… Chandrasomething Something. “All right, got it,” lied Phalanx. He knew he’d look like an ignorant jerk if he needed the name repeated too much, and, well, he didn’t want to look like that to one of the Princesses. They were kind of Important in the grand scheme of things, so he didn’t want his credibility with them to drop. He’d much rather fumble over the name in front of Chandrasomething herself later and look like an ignorant moron instead. She’d probably understand, at least a little.

But was being an ignorant moron really that much better than being an ignorant jerk? Even if it was “only” to a magic specialist rather than a Princess. It was almost like he was saying that he couldn’t be bothered to completely remember her na-

“Do you have any other questions?” Luna asked, jolting him out of his thoughts.

“Um, well,” said Phalanx, pulling his mind together, “I suppose… why are you only bringing this up now? If this is so important, why didn’t you do anything about it earlier?”

“Because this is about as early as it could get done,” said Luna. She rubbed a hoof against her head, as if she was tired. “You have to understand, something like this has never happened before in the history of Equestria. It-”

“Hold on a moment,” Phalanx interjected. “Seventy years ago, Discord stole the Elements. Why isn’t this like that?” I hope I’m not too out of line, here.

“Because he was nice enough to tell us he did it,” said Luna, “and told us where to find them. He was defeated within the hour, remember?” A small smile was dancing on her lips.

“Ah. Right.”

“Other situations are similar. In short, we have either precedence or a clear obstacle and a clear way to getting around that obstacle. Here, however, we have nothing. We simply didn’t know where to start. My sister and I spent the entire day debating a course of action, beyond the standard police investigation. We only reached a decision shortly before you received the order to come here.”

Phalanx couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. “But you still decided to run around with foals before sending me off to find the most important artifacts in the country?” Horseapples why did I say that she’s going to have m-

“I… needed some time to unwind,” Luna said in a voice that technically wasn’t defensive, but could see defensiveness if it peeked around the corner. “Nightmare Night was the only break I had from my duties in twenty-four hours, and I was a bit stressed.”

-or not. Has she seriously been up all that time? “Twenty-four hours?” asked Phalanx, his voice a little quiet. “And you’re still staying up tonight?”

Luna shrugged. “It is my duty,” she said, as if that explained everything. “I’ve been through worse, don’t worry about me.”

“Alright,” said Phalanx, although he was still a bit unsure. And there was something el- “And, milady, of all the ponies you could choose from to protect-” crapwhat’shernameagain “-your representative on magic-” phew “-why did you pick me?”

Phalanx was expecting a quick answer. “Your record is outstanding”, “you have a good rapport among the other soldiers”, “you were recommended”, “eenie-meenie-miney-mo”, something like that. A solid answer.

What he wasn’t expecting was for Luna to suddenly grow contemplative, frown, and tilt her head as she looked at him. She opened her mouth a few times, like she was going to say something, only to close it again. She barely moved aside from the occasional rustle of her wings.

Crap, Phalanx thought. Was that too personal? But if it was, she’d say so. Was she just not expecting that question? Or is she just looking for the right way to phrase it?

Evidently, the latter. Eventually, Luna took a deep breath. “Call it…” she said slowly, “call it indulging an old mare’s hunch, if you would?”

Well, okay. Were hunches good or bad? Princess hunches were usually good. Usually. And she still looked… distant and contemplative. Almost like the kind of look you’d have when trying to decide whether or not a foal was old enough for something. But then, if Phalanx wasn’t meant to know now, he’d probably know later. Foals grew up, after all. “Very well,” Phalanx said, bowing one last time. “Will there be anything else, Your Highness?”

“No,” said Luna, shaking her head. “Not unless you have something to add.”

“No.”

“Then our time here is concluded,” said Luna. “I wish you the best of luck.” She pulled a large burlap sack out from under a wing. Holding it open, she magically shovelled the pile of candy into it.

Phalanx blinked and stared at her in surprise, his mouth slightly open.

Luna stared back, a “so what?” sort of look, as she pulled the drawstrings shut. She took the neck of the sack in her teeth and, giving one last nod to Phalanx, flew off.

Phalanx was about to leave when he noticed that, in her departure, Luna had left a few pieces of candy behind. Some chocolate bars, a thing of bubble gum, and a couple of fruit chews. Given the amount she had, Luna wouldn’t miss it. She might have even left it behind for him on purpose.

And so Phalanx was presented with a quandary.

On the one hoof, free candy.

But on the other hoof, the Protective Pony Platoons had an image to maintain. It wouldn’t look good if the proud vanguards of Equestria all had potbellies. Candy was… well, just one of those things that a soldier didn’t have much of, since he needed to stay fit.

But on the other other hoof, a few pieces wouldn’t hurt. He hardly went binging on the stuff every day. Also, free candy.

But on the other other other hoof, he was a bit old for-

Too old for free candy? Never.

Well. That settled that.

Although he still checked to be sure that no one noticed him taking it.

3 - To Ponyville

As he flew to the train station, Phalanx really, really wished he’d tried better to remember Whatshername’s name. He’d realized too late last night that he didn’t have a physical description of her -- probably a unicorn, but you never knew -- and without a name, he had pretty much nothing to go on with her.

The flight itself wasn’t helping, which was particularly troubling, because flying often helped Phalanx think. Something about getting blood flowing to the brain better. But as the air streaked past him, Phalanx raked his mind again and again, only to come up with nada again and again.

Phalanx banked over the station, looking down for unicorns on the platform. Maybe he’d get lucky and there wouldn’t be a lot of- Ha ha, no, this was Canterlot. There were plenty of unicorns down there, and thanks to steam billowing from the train, he was probably missing a few.

As he folded his wings and dropped to the ground, panic began rising in Phalanx’s mind. He could only repeat the obvious to himself, over and over: he had nothing. None of the unicorns at the station looked particularly interested in him, which ruled out Whatshername finding him instead. He glanced at a clock. 9:23. The train wouldn’t be leaving for a while yet, but that wasn’t much good if he couldn’t find the pony he was supposed t-

“Excuse me?”

Phalanx jumped a little and turned around. He was confronted with the tip of a unicorn horn. Just the tip: the unicorn was rather short, so the top of her horn was the only thing that came up to eye level.

Phalanx looked down to get a better look at the unicorn. If he had to describe her look in as few words as possible, those words would be “high society”. Her white coat wasn’t quite gleaming, but it wouldn’t take much to get it there. Her mane and tail were silky-smooth and slate gray. Around her neck, she wore a necklace made of some sort of vibrant blue stone; it offset her green eyes well. He didn’t recognize her cutie mark; it looked like a dot inside a circle inside a crescent moon. Her saddlebags had some semi-fancy designs in the weave; a bit expensive, probably. He’d seen her a few times around the palace, but never talked to her.

“Can I help you?” asked Phalanx. His mind was racing. She can see I’m a Royal Guard, but I’m not wearing my armor, so she ought to know I’m off-duty. Right? Unless she’s one of those ponies, and she thinks I need to help her, no matter what, because she’s Very Important or something. I’m never going to find Chandrasomething at this rate.

“You’re Sergeant Iron Phalanx, right?” asked the unicorn. “I’m Chandrasekhar Lina.”

Well, that was easy.

“But you can call me Chandra, since…” She grinned a little and shrugged.

Even better. “Yeah,” said Phalanx, “I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s long, okay?”

“My parents came here from Indeccania,” said Chandra. “This kind of name’s normal there.”

I knew it. “So, you have our tickets, right?” asked Phalanx.

Chandra wordlessly reached around into a saddlebag’s side pocket and pulled out two tickets. When she put them back, she added, “And because we’re traveling as representatives of the Royal Court, we’ll have a private car down there.” She nodded towards the back of the train.

“Cool,” said Phalanx. “Do you have anything else you need to get done? Because, if not, we might as well get settled in. I’m ready.”

“Well…” Chandra cocked her head back and forth. “You know, I’m a bit thirsty. You go on ahead, I’ll get myself something to drink.” She turned to the main station building.

“Hang on a sec.” Phalanx reached over, bit down on the saddlebags’ center strap, and lifted them off of Chandra’s back. “Uh’ll fvake feefe foor yoo,” he garbled around the strap. I’ll take these for you.

Chandra nodded her thanks and departed into the crowd. Phalanx turned towards -- She said the back, didn’t she? -- towards the back of the train. The rear car did look a bit more decorated than the others, at least on the outside; at the very least, it had a small Royal Seal painted on the walls and tinted-out windows.

A conductor was waiting near the car. When she noticed Phalanx, she walked up to him and asked, “Iron Phalanx, correct?”

“Vathf vhe.” That’s me.

“Sorry, but I’ll need to see your ticket. And Chandra’s, if you’ve got it.” The conductor sighed and rolled her eyes. “Policy, you know. I need a record of everything, even thou-”

Phalanx spat out Chandra’s bag. “Nah, I understand,” he said, fishing in the pocket. “If something’s not catalogued, some bureaucrat’s gonna have an apoplectic attack, and we can’t have that, can we?” He pulled out the tickets.

“I wish,” muttered the conductor. She punched the tickets and waved Phalanx on through. Picking up Chandra’s bags again, Phalanx nodded to her and pushed open the door to the car.

It wasn’t exactly extravagant, but it was far from a normal train carriage. Whoever had designed the car had taken full advantage of its privacy, as well as its location in the rear; the back wall had windows designed to maximize the visibility of the passing landscape, as well as a small platform if the occupants wished to go outside. Towards the front were what Phalanx assumed were private sleeping compartments. There was a bar along one wall, although it didn’t look like it was stocked at the moment; Phalanx wouldn’t have been surprised if it doubled as a kitchen in some way. The chairs scattered around the room were large and looked rather poofy, the kind you could fall into. There was even a sofa in there, in the same design as the chairs. The furniture was covered in plush from top to bottom. The Royal Seal was plastered not quite everywhere; evidently, the designer had decided to shove it down your throat that you were in the Princesses’ private car, dangit.

Staring around, Phalanx walked up to one of the chairs and poked it with a hoof. True to its appearance, it was very smooshy. Soft, too. Phalanx ran his hoof over the fabric, enjoying the texture, then paused. He glanced out the window. He couldn’t see Chandra outside. Probably still getting her drink; it might be a while till she got back.

And, with that, he leaned forward and buried his face in the cushion. The fabric was incredibly soft on his body, and he felt like he could keep himself in that position for as long as he wanted to. “Pluuuuuuuuuuuuuush,” he murmured happily to himself.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Phalanx yelped -- although it was muffled by the cushions -- and, in one swift motion, sat up and turned around. Chandra was standing in the doorway, a soda bottle balanced on her back. She was fighting to keep a smile off of her face.

“W-well,” stammered Phalanx, “I-I was…” …There’s no way I’m getting out of this, is there? He coughed. “…enjoying the texture of the fabric.” Oh, that’s the way you put it? That sounds dirty.

Chandra managed to hold back for a few more seconds before breaking out into giggles. “Said the military pony,” she said. She set the bottle on the bar to keep it from falling off her back. “I’m sorry, I really shouldn’t, but…” She coughed, cleared her throat, and stopped laughing. “Okay, stopping now.”

Phalanx collapsed back into the chair and rubbed the plush fabric. “Well, it does feel nice,” he said lamely. “So I… yeah, I couldn’t resist.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to do it,” said Chandra. She headed behind the bar and ducked below it. Phalanx heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing as she continued, “When I first felt it, I couldn’t believe it either. It was like… here we go.” She stood up from behind the table, a straw in her mouth. She was on her hind legs to compensate for her small size, her front hooves on the bar top for balance. The cap popped off the bottle, and Chandra stuck the straw inside. After a quick sip, she said, “It was like I was sitting on clouds.”

“Clouds are fluffier,” said Phalanx. He poked the chair again. “But not much,” he admitted. “You’ve been in here before?”

“A few times,” said Chandra. She took her own seat, the bottle floating to a small table beside her. “I was traveling to this or that location in Equestria, at Luna’s request, so she gave me access to the train car.”

“Luna’s? Not Celestia’s? And she let you alone have the car?”

“Well, not just me.” Sip. “With a group of about a dozen others. And I’m an astronomer, so my work usually takes place at night. Hence: Luna.” Chandra shrugged.

Phalanx cocked his head. “Why does the Royal Court need astronomers?” he asked, frowning. “Yes, I know what they do, but why the Court, specifically?”

Chandra waved a hoof towards the window. “Look outside at the sky,” she said, “and tell me what you see.”

Although a little confused, Phalanx got off his chair and walked over to the window. He squinted through the glass at the sky, trying to see something different than usual. But, no, nothing special. Blue, the sun, a few clouds, more blue. Lots and lots of blue. “Just a normal sky,” he said. He didn’t turn from the window, just in case he’d missed something.

“And the stars?”

Phalanx blinked and turned to Chandra. “What about them?” he asked.

Chandra cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “Where are they?” Sip.

Phalanx frowned and turned back to the window, trying to remember what he had learned in school all those years ago. “They’re still out there, aren’t they?” he said. “Just too dim to be seen against the light of the sun.”

“Not exactly.”

“Really?” Phalanx tried to keep his voice sounding interested as he went back to his chair, but his heart sank a little. This is going to turn into one of those dense lectures full of complex jargon. I can feel it.

“Long story short,” said Chandra, “the magical reactions in the sun make the stars fade during the day. When dusk comes, we occasionally help Luna make the stars come out.”

My instincts are not having a good day. “Really?” Phalanx asked again, now genuinely interested. “I thought that she didn’t need help with that, but…”

“Actually, the system was first established to help Celestia.” Sip. “See, after she banished Nightmare Moon, she quickly realized that she wasn’t as good as handling the night as she was the day, so she set up a bureau or department or something to take care of some of the finer details. Stars, auroras, that sort of thing. Because of them, she never really bothered learning the niceties.”

“That’s… one way to put it.” Phalanx didn’t want to say that the last sentence in particular felt downright derogatory.

Chandra shrugged. “It’s Celestia’s way of putting it. She’s very upfront about her inability to handle the night as well as Luna. Her cutie mark is the sun, after all.” Sip. “Anyway, the position lasted until the Reunion, but Luna kept it around even though she didn’t fully need it. Instead, she just reassigned them to investigate stars more thoroughly. Basically, the same as normal astronomers, but with more specific tasks and government funding.”

“And the stars?”

“Sometimes Luna requests us to help pull the stars out. She’s usually busy with something else, then, so this saves her a bit more time.”

“Huh.”

At that moment, the train whistle blew; they’d be leaving shortly. Phalanx peered out the window at the last-minute goodbyes on the platform, then back to Chandra. “So since you work with magic a lot, you’re good at it.”

“Eh…” Chandra wiggled a hoof noncommittally. “Less magic itself, and more theory. I don’t mean to brag, but…” She puffed herself up a bit. “…when it comes to magic, I’m one of the top five most knowledgeable ponies in all of Equestria.”

Phalanx whistled and rustled his wings. “Impressive. So that’s why they picked you.”

“Yeah. Sometimes me or somepony else gets loaned out to someplace else to help with things that require magical theory. A few years ago, I worked with this security company to design better magic nullifiers after they got a grant.”

“I think I heard about that. Sports events and the like, right? Keep unicorns from cheating?”

Chandra nodded. “Basically, they’d developed a way to let the nullification decay quickly if you forgot to have it taken off once you left without having it end during the event. Before that, the nullification would either last a few weeks or wear off way too quickly, since magic can get a bit fuzzy on the timescales they wanted. The basics were there; I just ironed out the kinks.” She cringed a little. “But then, there were a lot of kinks in there. Let’s just say I earned my pay. By the way, it was the Arcandustries MN53 if you’re interested, ha ha yeah right.”

Phalanx shrugged. “Well, hey, you never know. That sort of thing can still be used by the Royal Guard, one way or another.”

Chandra took another sip of her soda, then glanced at the fridge behind the bar. She grinned. “You know, I’ve never had a chance to raid a royal fridge before…” She pulled the door open and stuck her muzzle inside. “…Ooo, are those mangos? I think they are!”

Phalanx rolled his eyes and turned to the window, watching the land roll by.

Eventually, the train pulled into the Ponyville station. As soon as Phalanx stepped off, he began surveying the area; he’d been to the town a few times before, since he knew a few of the ponies here, but it couldn’t hurt to check. It was every bit the typical small town he remembered, a few Nightmare Night decorations still hanging up; someone’d need to take them down soon.

Phalanx didn’t know who they were meeting, but he figured they wouldn’t be too hard to find. After all, he had found Chandra with little difficulty ev-

“Hey! Mr. Guard Guy, sir!”

Eeeeeeeyup. He turned in the direction of the voice, trying to look through the crowd of arrivals and departures. Way in the back, he could see a zebra jumping up and down, waving a hoof to get his attention. He waved back, letting her settle down. “I can see the pony meeting us,” he said to Chandra. “She’s near the ticket office.” He began working his way into the crowd.

“Okay,” said Chandra. She was about to follow him when she clapped a hoof to her face. “Oh, I left some books in the train. You go on ahead, I’ll catch up.” She turned and headed back into the train car.

With Chandra out of the picture, Phalanx didn’t try pushing through the crowd; instead, he just flew over them and landed next to the zebra. “Part of the investigation?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “It’s pretty well advanced. Technically speaking. They didn’t leave a whole lot of evidence, but we’re making do.”

Phalanx examined her as she spoke. She looked a little young, but there was was always the chance she was a prodigy or something. A lot of her mane was swept forward, and the bits that weren’t were tied back in a rather long-but-thin ponytail. It was black and white to match her stripes; Phalanx vaguely wondered what made her stripes look like that, but it didn’t really matter. Her eyes were a deep -- deep -- shade of brown.

“It’s not like we can do a whole lot else,” continued the zebra. “There weren’t even any witnesses. Well, one, apparently, but she skipped town yesterday. We’re still not sure whether she was involved somehow and is trying to evade arrest or is paranoid. Personally, I’m thinking she’s scared.” She blinked, as if she was remembering something. “Oh, and my name is-”

“Kal?!”

Phalanx and the zebra jumped at almost the same time. Phalanx turned around to see Chandra looking at the zebra, her mouth slightly open. Behind him, the zebra said, “Chandra?”

Phalanx took a step back, so they could see each other more clearly. He looked at the zebra -- Kal? “You two-” He turned to Chandra. “-know each other?”

It certainly looked like they did. After a second’s staring at each other, they both broke out in huge grins. “What’re you doing here?” asked Kal. “I thought you were going to be an astronomer!”

“That’s actually why I’m here. You know how I minored in magical theory?”

“Hi,” said Phalanx, raising a hoof, “I’m clueless.”

“Yeah,” said Kal, not glancing at him.

“Well, I kept my studies up after I left school,” said Chandra, “and I actually got pretty good at it. Tested into the Royal Court with top marks a few years ago.”

“Really? That’s great!” said Kal.

“Hi,” scowled Phalanx, raising a hoof again. “I’m still clueless.”

“But that still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here,” Kal continued. She still didn’t look at Phalanx.

“You two’re not listening to me, are you?”

“Since the Elements were protected by lots of enchantments,” said Chandra, “the Princesses figured that-”

“Nope. Definitely not.”

“-someone should go to specifically examine what’s left, and, well…” Chandra shrugged.

“Hey!” said Phalanx, sticking his head between them and glaring at one, then the other. “I hate to interrupt your reunion, but I don’t really know what you’re going on about. So…” He pulled his head back out. “Could you please take a moment to explain things to me?” Dang. That was probably a bit harsh.

Chandra coughed. “Heh. Sorry. Kal, meet Iron Phalanx. Phalanx, this…” She draped a foreleg over Kal’s withers. “…is Kalahari. She’s an old college friend of mine. We went to Dartmare together.”

“She was a year ahead of me,” said Kalahari, “but we met at a book club.” She giggled a little and waved a hoof. “I know, I know, old mares’ stuff, but-”

“Oh, come on,” snorted Phalanx, “that’s not that bad. If that’s what floats your boat, go for it.”

“What’d you choose for your major, anyway?” asked Chandra. “I never got around to asking you.”

“Hippology,” said Kalahari, “with a minor in psychology. They seemed interesting and versatile.”

“And look at you now.”

“Well, technically, I’m still new blood,” said Kalahari, kicking lightly at the ground. “I’m only really out here because they handed me the short straw. I’m the rookie, y’know?”

Phalanx nodded. He definitely knew.

After a moment’s silence, Chandra coughed and said, “So… we might as well get there.”

“All right,” said Kalahari. “This way.” She headed off to town, Chandra and Phalanx following her.

“So,” said Phalanx, “how’s the investigation proceeding?”

“Well, like I said,” said Kalahari, “they didn’t leave a lot of evidence, although we haven’t covered everything yet.”

“But you said there was a witness? I heard she left town, but-”

“She went to the Crystal Empire, and we’ve got a picture, but no one’s got a name. It’d be a wild goose chase without anything more.”

“Hmm.”

“And what kinds of magic examination?” asked Chandra.

“No idea, to be honest,” said Kalahari, shaking her head. “I don’t think so, though. I haven’t heard anything about it, and I haven’t seen any unicorns doing any…” She waved a hoof in a mysticalish sort of way. “…magic-y type things.”

“Fair enough,” said Chandra, partially to herself. “They might’ve been waiting for me.”

“Maybe,” said Kalahari. “So what’s new with you? I haven’t heard anything since-”

Not wanting to eavesdrop on what was probably a personal conversation, Phalanx broke off listening to the two. Instead, he began examining Ponyville, committing the layout to memory as best he could, just in case. It felt like one of a bazillion small towns across Equestria. It had that close-knit, rustic sort of vibe. However, here and there it was broken up by uniformed ponies along the trail they were walking, all bent towards the ground. Probably examining some sort of evidence. He noticed that Kalahari gave them a medium berth, which might be because they weren’t treating her well, or because she didn’t want to disturb anything they were examining.

Phalanx also made sure to get a good look at the residents, also just in case. But nopony really stood out. They were the usual kinds of locals you got in a town like this. For their part, they didn’t seem too perturbed by the forensics ponies. Although said ponies weren’t exactly obtrusive.

“…which was fine, since Marizona wasn’t really my place to live, anyway,” said Chandra. “Pretty and all, but too dry.” She looked up the road. “And that’s the library, I assume?”

“Yeah,” said Kalahari. “Big, ain’t it?”

Phalanx had seen pictures of the Royal Library, but they had captured the weight of it. The building simply felt solid, like a castle or fortress. It just felt like it belonged there, like a big tree (particularly fitting, given its design). However, at the same time, it didn’t feel overly intimidating. Just… big. Really big.

Two more forensics ponies were sitting outside the door, chatting. One of them was chowing down on a donut. Either on break or trying to make it look like they were on break when they were really totally alert. Phalanx had known some ponies who could look totally carefree, and yet were more aware of their surroundings than most paranoiacs.

When they saw Kalahari and the group, they waved. “Hey, Kal,” said one, somehow sounding clear through her mouthful of donut. She swallowed. “These the ponies already?”

“Yep,” said Kalahari. “Got to the station just as they were arriving.”

“Cool,” said Donut Pony. “Head on in. Dupinto’s still a bit mopey, though.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.” Kalahari pushed open the door and took Phalanx and Chandra inside. “Here. It’s in the back.”

Chandra, however, dawdled a little inside the door, glancing back outside. “They didn’t even want to know our names…” she muttered sullenly.

“They don’t think they need to,” said Kalahari. “You’re just a temporary specialist in extreme circumstances, and you’re-” She pointed to Phalanx. “-not much more or less than her bodyguard, in their eyes. They’re not going to see you again, so why bother? Also…” She turned back to Chandra. “…you didn’t ask for their names.”

Chandra opened her mouth to protest, but the protest never came out as her brain caught up. She closed her mouth sheepishly.

“I rest my case,” said Kalahari.

A small section near the rear of the library, outside the exhibit room, was police-taped off. Within the boundary lines were several ponies either discussing something amongst themselves or looking over notes. One of them, an Earth pony, was standing off on his own, seemingly lost in thought.

Kalahari ducked under the tape near him. “Hey. Dupinto.”

Dupinto twitched, blinked, and turned to Kalahari. “Hmm?”

“The specialist is here,” said Kalahari, jerking her head at Chandra. Chandra waved awkwardly.

“Thank the Sisters,” muttered Dupinto. He crossed the tape to meet with them personally.

Phalanx sized him up. Average height, somewhat stocky. A darkish sort of purple for the body, with a slicked-back, pale blue mane. He looked a bit tired; they probably hadn’t been working at the case that long, so maybe that was because they were getting nowhere. A small magnifying glass cutie mark decorated his flank. He had a semi-authoritative air about him, dulled a bit by his visible exhaustion.

“Officer Dupinto,” he said with a nod.

“I’m Chandra,” said Chandra.

“Iron Phalanx,” said Phalanx, returning the nod. “Rough day?”

Dupinto snorted. “Let’s put it this way. If anything comes of this, it’ll be the only significant evidence we have. As far as we can tell, they left behind nothing. It’s just…” He sighed. “You know.”

“Wow,” said Chandra quietly. “So is there anything I need to know before getting started?”

“Not really, no,” said Dupinto. He waved her towards the door to the exhibit room. “Go ahead.”

“Right,” said Chandra. She rolled her head, producing an impressive-sounding series of cracks. “Let’s do this thing.”

4 - Criminally Slow Investigation

Chandra walked into the exhibit room and immediately realized she was out of her league a bit. She didn’t know what to look for, she didn’t know what to ignore, she didn’t really know anything.

But maybe she could fudge her way past that. It couldn’t be that hard, could it?

Inside, the exhibit hall was surprisingly empty. There were a few shelves for books here and there, probably in relation to whatever was being shown, and a large pedestal where the Elements had once been. It was normally covered by a glass case, but the case had been shattered, with shards of glass scattered around the room. The whole room was circular with a ceiling and no windows, although some paintings lined the walls. All in all, not too much to look over.

A dark khaki unicorn was just inside, crouching down and frowning at some of the glass. She looked up when she heard Chandra come in. “Canterlot specialist?” she asked.

“Yeah,” said Chandra. “Name’s Chandra.” So is she curt because she doesn’t think much of me already or because she’s busy?

“Cobberfield,” said the unicorn. She looked back down at the glass. “Give me just one minute more.”

“Take your time,” muttered Chandra.

A few moments later, Cobberfield stood up. “Yeah, definitely blunt force,” she said to herself. She turned to Chandra. “Sorry about that. Just double-checking something.”

“Ah,” said Chandra. She glanced at the glass. “So how do you know that it’s blunt force?”

“Long story short, the way it falls,” said Cobberfield. She rubbed the back of her neck. “It’s complicated, but there are certain patterns in different ways of breaking stuff. Like, if it was done with magic, it’d be a lot more spread out-”

“Because the force would be more like a plane?” asked Chandra.

“Exactly,” said Cobberfield, nodding. “So. I haven’t done any examination of the magic in the room; I was waiting for you to show up first. Just to get two brains on the scene.”

“All right. Do you have a way you want to go over this?”

“The way I see it, there are several things we need to go over: the walls, the doors, and the glass.” Cobberfield glanced down at the glass surrounding her hooves. “Well, glass shards, anyway. All of those ought to have had enchantments placed on them to keep unwanted ponies out, so someone breaking in would’ve had to go through them.”

“Sounds good,” said Chandra. “Should we do it in that order?”

Cobberfield shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

The two unicorns went to opposite sides of the room, so as not to disturb each other while they worked. Chandra closed her eyes, concentrating, and placed her horn on the wall, sending a probe of examination magic into it. She went slowly to be absolutely sure she didn’t miss anything. At first, there wasn’t much. Barely anything, actually, not even the remains of a destroyed spell. There was, however, a strange feeling Chandra hadn’t felt before, almost like heat from the sun. Maybe it’d make more sense if she went in a little bit furtholy crap.

Chandra had never, in all her years of work, felt something like the magic she was examining now. It was mind-bogglingly complex, intertwined with itself, layered over and under, and the patterns it made went in directions she hadn’t thought possible. It was like a loop; it felt like attempting to weaken one part of it would redirect the magic so that it was strengthened it elsewhere, and then react so that the excess would double back and give you a metaphysical smack on the head. It also cast a subtle charm throughout the room, barely noticeable even if you were looking for it: the entire room was teleport-proof. Attempting to teleport in or out of the room would simply dump you exactly where you had started, except now you were seeing lots and lots of stars.

Not only that, it was brimming, humming with energy. If Chandra had started dumping all the power she could into something, she might -- might -- be able to reach this level within several months. More if you took small things like “sleeping” and “recovering” into account. The “heat” Chandra had felt was raw power radiating out from the enchantment, something that could only happen if you were working with gargantuan amounts of magic. Like right here.

There was no question who had done it. The Princesses. No one else could have done it. No one else had the experience or the power.

Of course, the fact that she could feel it meant only one thing to Chandra: it wasn’t broken. If it had been broken, whoever stole the Elements could have broken into the room through the wall and repaired the hole afterwards. Probably. But with this enchantment still in place, you could take a diamond-tipped jackhammer made out of titanium to the building and the only thing you’d get out of that would be a broken jackhammer. Furthermore, as long as it was there, you couldn’t teleport into or out of the room.

On the other side of the room, Cobberfield whistled softly. “That’s… wow.”

“I know,” said Chandra, nodding. “But the thing is, it’s still there.”

Cobberfield sighed. “Yeah. We assumed there was something like this in place, but maybe it’d been broken. But with this…” She shook her head. “Yeah, with this, they’d’ve had to come in through the door.”

“So let’s check that.”

The door was more of the same: stupidly complex and powerful protective spells everywhere. However, beneath them, Chandra felt something else. It looked like it was a bit more… “pliable” than the normal protection, but when Chandra tried working it, she didn’t feel anything moving. It was like it was only meant to open for specific ponies. Like…

Chandra’s eyes snapped open. “How’s this door locked?” she asked Cobberfield.

Cobberfield didn’t open her eyes, still focused mostly on probing the door, but she began “um”ing. “Hmm… I… can’t remember exactly how, but someone had gotten the design for the lock yesterday or something. Go ask outside and you should get it.”

One trip out of and back into the room later, Chandra was examining some notes scribbled down by a pony with utterly horrendous penmareship. Chandra took a while to decipher it, but eventually managed to figure out what it said. “Okay,” she said to Cobberfield, “it’s locked with an enchantment that only opens for either the Princesses or the current librarian.”

“So that’s what this is.”

“Yeah. Apparently, it’s the most sophisticated locking enchantment of its kind, which I can totally see. Oh, and…” Chandra squinted at the last few lines. “…it can be unlocked by anypony from the inside. They didn’t want to get somepony stuck in there for the night by accident.”

“Makes sen-” Cobberfield cut herself off and her eyes snapped open. “So…” she said slowly, “maybe whoever stole them hid in the room somehow after closing. Then they just opened the door for the others.” She glanced around the fairly bare room. “Granted, that seems incredibly unlikely, but at this point, it’s all we’ve got. The lock feels undamaged to me.”

“Same here,” sighed Chandra. “You know, I was thinking we’d get a bit more out of this.”

“Me, too. This isn’t that surprising, given how they’ve covered their tracks, but it is disappointing.” Cobberfield turned to the glass shards. “So we’ll get to this, and th-”

“What about the doorframe?”

Cobberfield cocked her head at Chandra. “Huh?”

“The doorframe,” repeated Chandra, pointing at it. “How do we know that hasn’t been damaged in some way? I once saw a movie where the bad guy was hiding in a safe room behind an unbreakable door, so the hero just destroyed the frame.”

Cobberfield frowned and scratched her head. “You know, I… don’t think the idea occurred to us. But it makes sense.” She glanced at the glass, then turned back to Chandra. “Tell you what. You’re the specialist, so why don’t you examine the frame? Anything in there’s going to be just as complex as in the door itself, so you’ll understand it better. I’ll look at the glass, and then we can be done, unless we get another brainwave.”

“Fine,” said Chandra. As Cobberfield bent over the shards, Chandra began probing the doorframe. It was more of the same of the actual door: strong, complex, and in perfectly good condition. It was bonded to the walls quite well, and Chandra idly wondered why they didn’t just make the walls and frame the same enchantment.

Then she hit something.

Compared to everything else, it was weak, although that wasn’t saying a whole lot. However, it was weak enough that it was almost smothered by the rest of the magic. Chandra wasn’t completely sure she’d felt it the first few times, and she kept “missing” it even as she examined it, it was so faint. But it wasn’t the remnants of some outside source of magic; it was woven in with the rest of the magic.

However, that wasn’t the interesting bit. It felt… off. Chandra couldn’t say why, but there was just something wrong about it. Slimy, cold, slippery. Shivers ran down her spine every time she tried prodding it. She’d never heard of anything quite like it. Well, except for dark mag-

“Chandra?”

Chandra flinched; she’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Cobberfield finishing up. “Oh,” she said, “um… hang on a bit.” She put her horn against the frame again. What the hay IS that?

Cobberfield slowly tilted her head. “Are… you feeling okay?”

Maybe she knows. “Probe that,” said Chandra, stepping away from the door.

“Huh?”

“Look, just… do me a favor and probe the frame, will you, please? I’m suspicious about something.”

Cobberfield looked at the door, at Chandra, then shrugged. “All right.” She stepped forward and placed her horn on the frame. After a few moments, Chandra’s heart sank when Cobberfield said, “Am I supposed to be looking for something?”

“You don’t feel it?”

“Well, obviously not. What’s ‘it’?”

“It’s… Well, I don’t know what it is, that’s the thing. It’s faint, but…” Chandra waved her hooves about for a second in frustration. “…it feels like dark magic.”

“Dark magic,” said Cobberfield flatly.

“Well, that’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Chandra, dark magic’s been outlawed for Celestia-knows-how-long.”

“I know. You don’t need to tell me that.”

“I’m not sure anyone really knows how to do it.”

“I know.”

“And if they did, the Princesses would jump on them like-”

Chandra gritted her teeth. “I know! Why are you telling me this?”

“Because, to put it mildly, the probability of it being dark magic is reaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllly tiny. Besides, why would dark magic be used in the construction of the frame, anyway?”

“Look, I… I just don’t know.” Chandra rubbed her head and groaned. “So you really didn’t feel anything?”

“Nope,” said Cobberfield, shaking her head. “You said it was faint? How faint?”

“Really faint. I could barely sense it.”

Cobberfield hmmed. “Maybe you’re right and you’re just more sensitive than me.”

“So… what’re we gonna do about it?”

“Dunno.” Cobberfield rubbed the back of her neck. “I’ll, um, tell Dupinto about it. He’ll know what to do better.”

“Fine,” muttered Chandra. You’re not going to tell him, are you? You think we’re just grasping at straws. But she didn’t say anything. Too accusatory. “Find anything in the glass?”

“No,” said Cobberfield. “Nothing I didn’t expect, anyway. She sighed. “Guess we’re done here, then.” She left the exhibition hall.

To say Chandra was disappointed as she followed Cobberfield out was an understatement. She wasn’t quite crushed, but it was close. She’d hardly expected to solve the case on her own, but she’d figured she’d at least find something. There was that dark magic, but that just raised further questions, no answers. And aside from that, what did they have?

Nothing.

Phalanx hung back with Kalahari as Chandra entered the exhibit hall; he didn’t think he needed to follow her absolutely everywhere. But now he was stuck here with nothing to do.

“By the Sisters,” muttered Dupinto, “I really hope they find something. So far the biggest leads we have are hoofprints, and those’ve been damaged by the weather.” He sighed. “This is just…”

“Is it really that bad?” asked Phalanx. Some part of him kept thinking that, come on, there had to be some stuff left behind.

Dupinto gave him a Look. “Really that- Listen. I’ve been doing doing this for almost a decade. I’ve seen crimes solved from gum picked off the undersides of desks and from misplaced coffee cups. Believe me when I say that if there was anything here that might be evidence, I’d know it.” He leaned in close to Phalanx. “So, yes, it really is that bad.” His voice was low; he was reaching the end of his rope.

Phalanx didn’t flinch at Dupinto’s closeness. “Well, wasn’t there a witness? I heard something about that.”

Dupinto took a step back. “Well…” he muttered, “technically, yes, but all we’ve got is a rough sketch of her. The morning after the Elements were stolen, but before anything was reported, she told the mayor that she’d seen somepony break into here. She left almost immediately after that, saying she needed to get back to the Crystal Empire for her job or something. She didn’t even leave her name, and the mayor said she looked like she was nervous.”

“So we do have a witness.”

“Yes. A witness whose name and location we don’t know. It’ll be a wild goose chase. And we don’t even know how much she knows.”

“So you’re saying you’re not even going to look for her?” asked Phalanx.

Dupinto blinked, then gave a short, cynical laugh. “I’m saying it’s too much work for too little gain. Just drop it, okay? You can go looking for her if you want, but I’m not sending my people halfway across the country for this.” Not wanting to talk anymore, he stalked off.

Phalanx shook his head. “Yeesh,” he said to Kalahari. “What’s his problem?”

“He’s been working himself to the bone almost nonstop for the past two days,” said Kalahari, “only to turn up nothing regarding the theft of some of the most valuable objects in history, even though that’s his whole job, and now he has a Royal Guard asking him questions about things that were resolved yesterday and really ought to be obvious if you think about it.”

“…Ah. I should… probably apologize, then.”

“That might be wise, yes.”

Phalanx was about to leave when he paused. “Although… You wouldn’t happen to know who’s got that sketch, would you?”

Kalahari blinked. “What? You’re actually thinking of going there?”

“If Chandra’s fine with it. I know somepony here who sometimes travels to the Crystal Empire, so there’s a chance that she might recognize whoever it was, or at least help us find her.” Phalanx shrugged. “It’s not much, I’ll admit, but it’s better than nothing.”

“I don’t know who’s got it,” said Kalahari, “but Dupinto ought to know. Why don’t I come with y-”

“Nah,” said Phalanx, heading off, “I got this.” He headed off after Dupinto.

It took a few moments of looking, but Phalanx tracked down Dupinto near the entrance, looking out a window. He tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey.”

When Dupinto saw Phalanx, he muttered, “Hey,” and went back to looking out the window.

“Listen,” said Phalanx, “I… I’m sorry I was so ignorant earlier.”

Dupinto blinked and turned to face Phalanx more fully.

“I’m a soldier, not a detective,” continued Phalanx, “so it didn’t really occur to me that you’d’ve gone through pretty much everything. I…” He swallowed. “I was an idiot.”

Dupinto was silent for a moment. Then he grinned. He still looked tired, but it did a lot for his disposition. “Thanks,” he said. “And for me, well… It’s the inaction that really gets you down, here. There’s only so much you can do before run out of things to investigate and start getting cabin fever.”

“Oh, no, I understand totally,” said Phalanx, waving a hoof. “Anyway, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Shoot.”

“Who’s got that sketch of the witness?”

Dupinto paused, opened his mouth, and paused again as he switched topics. “Well, if you’re going to actually try to find them, I won’t stop you. Anyway, check outside.” He jerked his head towards the door. “There ought to be a pale red pegasus out there, Steadyhoof. She’ll have your sketch.”

“Thanks,” said Phalanx, nodding. “And sorry. Again.”

“Eh, don’t mention it,” replied Dupinto, waving a hoof. “I hope you turn up something with your search.”

Phalanx nodded again and left, heading outside.

As luck would have it, said pale red pegasus was sitting right outside the door; she was one of the two donut ponies they had passed on the way in, the other being an Earth pony. They were out of donuts now and just sort of lazing around on their backs in the sun. It was a bit warm for the season.

Phalanx stood -- no, loomed -- over Steadyhoof and looked down at her. “Lazy day, isn’t it?” he asked. It wasn’t accusing, just a question of fact.

Steadyhoof yawned. “Well,” she mumbled, “if there was anything to do, we’d do it.” She rolled over on her back and yelled to the Earth pony, “Right?”

“Right!” the Earth pony shouted back. “Don’t know what about, but right!”

“So there’s that,” said Steadyhoof, rolling back to look up at Phalanx. “Unless you’ve got something you want.”

“That sketch of the witness. Dupinto said you had one.”

Steadyhoof blinked a few times and rolled onto her hooves. “You actually doing something about that?” she asked. She walked over to some bags lying near the entrance to the library and began stuffing her muzzle in them as she searched.

Phalanx flapped his wings once and shrugged. “Maybe. Depends how things turn out. I may or may not know a mare who knows a mare.”

“Uh-huh.” Steadyhoof plucked a scroll from a bag and rolled it out. “Here we go.”

It was an uncolored sketch of a mare. At first Phalanx thought she was an Earth pony, but then he noticed a note in the top corner: Crystal Pony. And, well, why wouldn’t that be the case? She was in the Crystal Empire, after all. She looked pretty normal, maybe a bit tall. A few lines crisscrossed the image, connecting areas with coat or mane colors.

“Remember,” said Steadyhoof, “this is from someone else’s memory, so no promises that any of it’s accurate.”

“Good enough,” said Phalanx, rolling up the scroll with the nudge of a hoof. “Thanks.” He tucked the scroll under a wing.

“Anytime,” nodded Steadyhoof. She walked back into the grass and flopped down again.

Phalanx bit the inside of his cheek as he thought. Bet I could get them moving. Start screaming at them in my Instructor Voice. Be nice to see them jump. He’d have nothing on a drill sergeant, obviously, but he’d come close enough for a civilian.

…Nah. For all he knew, they were just as beat as Dupinto and merely taking it better because they weren’t in charge of the whole thing. Probably not, but best not to risk someone snapping.

Sketch in hoof, Phalanx headed back inside to wait for Chandra to finish up.

And once Phalanx left, Kalahari had nothing to do. She hadn’t asked to come with Phalanx because she thought he needed the help; she just wanted to do something else.

Well, hey. We’re in a library. Why not look for some books?

And hey. Why not ones about the Elements of Harmony? We might as well learn some more about them.

Now the problem was finding such a book. For starters, what subject would they be under? Magic, probably. Which would make their Hoofy Decimal Number… 504.something, if Kalahari was remembering the system right. Or was it 540.something? Well, 500s were sciences, so it’d probably be somewhere in there.

The 500s were upstairs. The steps were a little shallower than what Kalahari was used to, but that was fine. Probably easier to get down when you were carrying lots of books.

It was bright upstairs, even with all the bookcases in the way. From what Kalahari could see, there were a lot of large windows on this floor on all four walls, always letting the sun in no matter what time of day. It gave the room a nice, warm feeling. In particular, there was one area not too far from the stairs where you could read any books you had picked out where the windows seemed particularly big and sun-friendly; the reading area felt rather restful.

But she needed a book before she could stop there. Kalahari flitted down the aisles and between shelves, looking for the… There they were, the 500s. Deciding to start from the beginning, Kalahari glanced over the titles. Maybe seeing clusters of subjects in an area would jog her mind as to what went where.

Or maybe not. She might’ve skipped over a few, but by the time she was in the 580s and the books were about plants, Kalahari was sure that there weren’t any books on the Elements where she was looking. She doubled back, went over everything a few more times, but still nothing. There were books on magic, sure, but those were more magical theory rather than any specific application.

So would they be under magitech, then? Kalahari didn’t know much about them, but she knew they weren’t pony-made, so probably not. But where, then?

And, Kalahari realized, that was assuming they had a book on the Elements. The Elements were a rather specialized topic, especially since they had only eight known users in all of history. For all she knew, they’d be buried in a footnote in some random textbook behind a bunch of obtuse, opaque terms.

Although if anyone knew whether or not they had such a book, it’d be the librarian. Kalahari trotted back down the stairs and up to the front desk.

The unicorn at the desk looked a bit young for the job, but he seemed to be working hard enough, sorting books on a cart. When he saw Kalahari, he stopped for a moment. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, I was wondering,” said Kalahari. “Do you have any books specifically on the Elements of Harmony? I can’t seem to find any.”

The librarian frowned. “We should, but I can’t remember where they’d be. Those things’re a real gelding when it comes to sorting. Hang on a sec.” He levitated a book about as large as either of their heads out from behind the desk and began flipping through the pages. From what Kalahari could see, it was some sort of Hoofy Decimal lookup book, with a bunch of specific subjects numbered by where they went.

“And it’s fine if they’re a subtopic in a book,” added Kalahari. “I just w-”

“No,” cut in the librarian, waving a hoof, “I know we’ve got at least one book that’s only about them, but I-” He stopped flipping, paused, and tapped his chin. “…actually…” He put the lookup book away again and pulled out a much smaller one, the library’s ledger. Flipping to the last few pages, he ran a hoof down the lines. “…aaaand… there. Gimme a minute.” He turned back to the cart. A few moments later, he turned back, levitating a book behind him. “Here we go.” He dropped it on the counter. “Just got returned. The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide.”

That was easier than I thought it’d be. In spite of everything Kalahari knew about books and covers, it looked impressive enough; a simple but striking design of six jewels surrounding a coat of arms. Then she noticed the authors. There was Princess Twilight herself, and… “Isaac Neighton?” she asked, looking up. “I thought he died over four hundred years ago.”

“It’s up-to-date, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said the librarian. “Second edition.” He poked at some much-too-small type in the lower right corner. “Twilight rewrote parts of it in her later years. It hadn’t need changing before then since nothing new had been found out yet.”

“Ah. Great.” Kalahari turned to the table of contents. There was a pretty wide range of topics there. “You seem to know an awful lot about this book,” she said as she skimmed the list. “Read it before?”

“Oh, yeah,” said the librarian, nodding. “It’s great. It’s perfectly accessible to the laymare and really interesting.”

“Then I’ll take it,” said Kalahari, closing the book up. She signed her name in the ledger. Taking a firm grip on the book, Kalahari carried it to a reading area not too far from the crime scene. If she was needed (yeah, right), it was good to be close by.

Before Kalahari opened the book, however, a thought stole into her mind. So where would a book like this go? She stole a glance at the Hoofy Decimal Number.

…602? What the hay is that? The 600s are technology, aren’t they? But the Elements aren’t technology… right?

Putting the question to the back of her mind, Kalahari cracked open the book. She started at the beginning, but flipped to the origins of the Elements after a few seconds, just to satisfy her curios-

…

Part of her wanted to scream. The Elements WEREN’T TECHNOLOGY. They were the natural result of- the see- the product of- Not even Twilight had known what, exactly, the Elements were, but they definitely weren’t technology.

Oh, well. So some cataloguers were morons. It wasn’t the end of the world. Kalahari went back to the beginning of the book and started reading.

5 - Friends of the Family

Eventually, Kalahari decided that she ought to go check up on the investigation. Leaving the book on the table, she went back to the exhibition hall.

Chandra must’ve finished up; ponies were milling around the doorway, if only to pack stuff away. Kalahari glanced through the crowd, trying to find Chan- There she was. It looked like she was stewing. Probably didn’t go well, then. “Didn’t find anything?” Kalahari asked.

Chandra kicked at the ground. “No,” she muttered. She cocked her head, thinking a moment, then added, “Well, not really. There was something, but it was probably nothing. Dark magic.”

Kalahari blinked. “Probably nothing? You call dark magic probably nothing?”

“Well…” Chandra said, “it was really faint, and the pony working with me didn’t feel anything. I might’ve thought I felt something when I didn’t.”

“Still…”

“But even then, it’s- Well, it’s complex, and it’ll be in the report or whatever. You can read it then. But basically, we don’t know who could’ve done it, so we’re back with nothing.”

“Not exactly,” said Phalanx, walking up to them. “I’ve got that sketch of the witness.” He twitched his wing, showing a corner of the paper. “I know some ponies here who know ponies in the Crystal Empire, so, on the million-to-one off chance that they know this pony, I’m going to ask them for help. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he added to Chandra. “I’m here to protect you, so it’s up to you whether or n-”

“Let’s go,” cut in Chandra. “I want to feel like we’ve done something.”

“Hang on,” said Kalahari. “Do you have anypony else coming with you? A detective or anything?”

“Um, no,” said Phalanx, “but that… something like that’d probably be a good idea, yes.”

“Then maybe I should go, too. Dupinto’d think it a good idea to have somepony else following up on this. If it’s okay with you, I’ll go ask him, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Sounds good,” said Phalanx. “Chandra?”

“Yeah, that’s perfect,” said Chandra, nodding.

“Then hang on a second,” said Kalahari. She walked up to Dupinto. “We’re done here?” she asked him.

Dupinto shrugged. “Pretty much. Didn’t find much of anything. That Royal Guard’s planning on-”

“Actually, that was what I wanted to talk to you about. I was thinking that it’d probably be a good idea if somepony who wa-”

“Was trained in detective work went with him?” guessed Dupinto. “And that pony’d probably be you, wouldn’t it?” Not waiting for an answer, he tapped his chin for a moment. “Yeah, that’s wise. Go ahead. We don’t need any help here.”

Kalahari nodded and, after a brief stop to pick up her book and bags, headed back to Phalanx and Chandra. “We’re good,” she said.

“Then come on,” said Phalanx. The trio left the library, Phalanx and Chandra picking up their bags on the way out.

As they headed through Ponyville, Kalahari asked, “So, be honest: how much of a shot in the dark do you think it is? You said it was a million-to-one chance, but is it really that bad?”

Phalanx shrugged. “Don’t know. Really, I don’t. They go to the Crystal Empire frequently on business, so if the pony here was also on business for whatever reason, they might know her. And they might know her even if she wasn’t. If I had to give us chances…” He frowned for a moment. “…one in twenty. Optimistically.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.”

Kalahari took a moment to survey the road they were walking down. They’d gone a short distance out of Ponyville, enough that the road was now more of a path. Ahead, Kalahari could see a large mass of trees, although she couldn’t tell what kind they were. It would’ve been a forest, except for the low fence surrounding it; and it wasn’t a “keep out” sort of fence, more of a “this is where we stop” one. An orchard, then. Between the trees, she could make out a farmhouse -- the bright red kind -- on a hill. Just ahead of them on the path was an arched trellis acting as a door through the fence. A simple wooden sign with a cutout of an apple in it hung from the arch.

Kalahari didn’t recognize it, but Chandra did. She blinked at the sign once she saw it. “Is this… Sweet Apple Acres?” she asked.

Phalanx didn’t so much as pause as he headed through the gate. “Yeah.”

“As in, makers of Sweet Apple Cider Sweet Apple Acres?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a personal friend of the Apple family?”

“No. I just like to randomly walk on their property when heading over to visit someone else.”

“Ha ha. But seriously, h-”

“Hey,” said Kalahari, waving a hoof. “Is the Apple family important or something?”

“Kind of,” said Chandra. “There’s just the small matter of them being one of the biggest apple distributors in the whole of Equestria and the makers of only the greatest apple cider anywhere ever.”

“Ah,” said Kalahari. “I’m not really a big fan of apples.”

Phalanx and Chandra stopped walking and looked at each other. Looked at Kalahari. Looked at each other again. Phalanx shot an exaggerated snarl at Kalahari. “You are a terrible pony,” he said in a voice way too serious to be taken seriously. He flicked his tail and continued walking up the path.

“They’re all right,” protested Kalahari. “I just don’t see anything special about them.”

“Then you need to try these apples,” said Chandra. “Trust me, they’re good.”

“Not anymore, they’re not. You’ve built them up too much already.”

“They’re better than that.”

“See? You’re still doing it.”

“Oh, shut up, you two,” said Phalanx, climbing up the front steps. “Maybe I can wheedle some apples out of Kerry and you can try them yourself.” Knock knockknockknock-knock. Knock knock.

After a moment, a mare opened the door. She was tall, but lean. Her dark red coat looked a bit dirty, as if she’d just come from the middle of dusting. Her mane, slightly darker than clover, was sort-of-not-really tied up in a bun; most of her hair was wrapped up, but a lot of it was hanging freely down her neck. On her flank was a cutie mark of three apples.As soon as she saw Phalanx, her face broke into a broad grin. “Why, hello, Phalanx!” she said in a rather twangy accent. “What brings you ‘round here?”

“Hey, Kerry,” said Phalanx, giving her a nod. “I’ve actually got some questions on the theft of the Elements. No, I don’t think you did it,” he added quickly, seeing the look on Kerry’s face, “I’m just thinking you might recognize a sketch we have of a witness.”

“Well, then, why don’t you and your friends come in,” Kerry said, taking a step back and holding the door open. “I was just about to start dinner, but nopony’s really that hungry yet. Just drop your bags inside.”

“Thanks,” said Phalanx. He went inside the house, Kalahari and Chandra following. As per Kerry’s offer, they deposited their bags just inside the doorway.

Inside the house, the feeling Kalahari got was one of coziness. It was just one of those houses that had been lived in by the same family for a long time and built up a warm, friendly tone. The walls were a soft yellow, almost like that of corn. There were small, rustic decorations and knick-knacks scattered around pretty much everywhere. Kalahari almost would’ve liked to move in immediately.

Kerry took the four of them to the dining room. As they sat down around the table, Phalanx said, “Chandra, Kalahari, this is Kerry Pippin, proprietor of Sweet Apple Acres. Kerry, this is Kalahari, a detective involved in the investigation-” Kalahari waved. “-and Chandra, a specialist from Canterlot.” Chandra waved.

“Pleased to meet y’all,” said Kerry, smiling. She turned to Phalanx. “Now, what can I do you for?”

Phalanx pulled out the sketch and laid it on the table. “Do you know this pony?” he asked. “She’s a witness, but due to circumstances, we barely got any statement from her, and we don’t know anything about her, except that she’s from the Crystal Empire.”

Kerry was silent as she examined the sketch. After a few moments, she shook her head. “She looks a mite familiar, but I can’t say I know her. You might want to try askin’ Ida, though. She’s out in the orchard, finishin’ up the day’s buckin’. My daughter,” she added to Kalahari and Chandra. “Helps with the work ‘round here.”

“Ida?” frowned Phalanx. “Why do you think she’ll know if you don’t?”

“Oh, she’s just more involved in the Crystal Empire,” said Kerry, waving a hoof vaguely. “Does a bit more of our business there.”

“Your daughter does business there?” cut in Kalahari. “How old is she?”

“Young mare,” replied Kerry. “College-age, but she decided that she wasn’t going to college. Don’t need to learn differential equations or pony psychology to help run an orchard, after all. And it’s less ‘does business’ and more ‘is intermediary’. She ain’t ready to actually run the place just yet.”

“Ah.”

“So where in the orchard is she?” asked Phalanx. “It’s kind of, you know, a big orchard.”

“Northwest,” said Kerry. Then she frowned. “At least, she oughta be. She’s usually in by now, and it ain’t like her to still be out this late.”

“Well, if there’s anything wrong, we’ll help her out,” said Phalanx, sliding out of his chair. “Either of you girls want to come along, or you going to wait?”

“I’ll come,” said Kalahari. “I don’t want to mooch and infringe on Kerry’s hospitality.”

“Oh, you ain’t moochin’, it’s no problem,” said Kerry. “It’s all I can do for a friend of a friend.”

“In that case,” said Chandra, “call me moocher. It’s getting cold out there.”

Phalanx rolled his eyes and left the house. Before she followed him, Kalahari teasingly said, “Wuss,” and darted out before Chandra can respond.

Exiting from the back door, Kalahari could see that the farm was even larger than she had thought. Hill after hill of trees rolled across the land, all in brilliant shades of red, orange, and yellow; the leaves hadn’t been removed from the trees yet. Kalahari whistled softly. “Big,” she muttered.

“It’s impressive,” said Phalanx. “They’re a hard-working family, the Apples are. Takes a while to buck all the apples from the trees, even if you spend all day doing it.”

After a while of walking, Kalahari looked up at the trees. They were all bare of apples. “So, the Apples mainly grow and sell apples?”

“And apple products, yeah. They grow a few other crops in the off seasons, but that’s mostly for their own food.”

“There’s no way I could do that. I’m definitely not a farm zebra.”

“Me, neither. I-” Phalanx suddenly stopped and cocked his head.

Kalahari stopped, too. “What’s-”

Phalanx raised a hoof. “Shh.” He paused for another moment, then said, “You hear that?”

Kalahari didn’t say anything, but stopped, listened.

“It’s kind of quiet,” whispered Phalanx. “You might not hear anything.”

Kalahari listened for a little more. Then, “No, I hear it, too. A kind of thudding or bonking?” She was whispering, too.

“Yeah.”

They paused and kept listening.

Whunck.

Whunck.

“Kind of regular. But not really.”

“No.”

“Think it’s Ida?”

“Probably. Let’s check it out.”

They picked up the pace a little, walking more briskly. After a few moments, they came upon the source of the noise.

In a small not-quite-clearing, a smallish Earth pony was standing next to a pile of rocks, looking over her shoulder at a tree -- pretty much the last tree around still with apples on it. Baskets were laid out around the trunk, a few apples lying in them; metal arches connected pairs of baskets, probably for carrying. The pony herself was green-bodied, with a cutie mark of a neatly-sliced apple. She had golden eyes, her mane and tail a combination of scarlet and russet orange. Her mane was cut short, while her tail seemed to be deliberately long to make up for it. Her canvas vest was weathered and worn.

As Kalahari and Phalanx watched, she bucked a stone from the pile at the tree. It hit the tree hard -- whunck -- and a few apples fell from the branches. The pony snorted. “Durn it.” She bucked again. A few more apples fell. “Durn it.” She wound up for another buck.

“Hey, Ida!” yelled Phalanx.

Ida flinched in surprise, but only a little. She turned to see the two of them coming out of the trees. “Hey, Phalanx,” she said, then looked over her shoulder again. Buck. Whunck. Two apples. “Durn it.”

“Um…” said Kalahari, walking up to her, “what’re you doing?”

“Ranged apple buckin’.” Ida tried again -- whunck -- and didn’t have any better luck. “Durn it. If I can actually do it well, I can get the apples down more quickly.” Whunck. “Durn it. Guess I can’t do it.”

“Kalahari,” said Phalanx, “this is Idared.”

“Call me Ida. Everyone does.” Whunck. “Durn it. Old-fashioned way it is, then.” She walked up to the tree and, in one smooth motion, turned around and bucked it, her hooves hitting the trunk squarely. With a rustle, every apple dropped from the tree and landed in the baskets.

“And that’s that,” said Ida, flicking a few stray apples into a less-full basket. “Last tree in the orchard.” She glanced at the baskets, then turned to Kalahari and Phalanx. “Any chance I could shanghai you into helping me with these?”

“Sure,” said Kalahari.

“Just take a pair of baskets,” said Ida. “Like this.” She crouched down, walked one pair’s connecting arch, and stood up, the arch spreading the weight across her her back. “Bit heavy, though.”

Can’t be that heavy, thought Kalahari. They’re just apples. And then she knew she was setting herself up for a shock, because the only time anypony went, ‘oh, it can’t be that bad’ was when it really was that bad. Apprehensively, Kalahari crawled under the arch, lifted it up, and-

-it really wasn’t that bad. Heavy, yes, but pretty much what she was expecting. She still had to plant her hooves to keep her balance, though.

Didn’t look like Ida had that problem; she carried her baskets like they were almost nothing as she walked back to the house. “So, Phalanx and…” She glanced over her shoulder. “Kalahari, was it?”

“Yeah.”

“So what brings you two out here?”

“It’s about the Elements of Harmony,” said Phalanx.

“Uh-oh.”

“We don’t have any leads except for a witness from the Crystal Empire with no name, and we were hoping you might recognize her. It’s not much-”

“-but it’s all you got. Be happy to help, if I actually recognize her.”

“Yeah. Sorry to butt in on you like this.”

Ida waved a hoof. “Oh, it ain’t a bother. With the last of the buckin’ done, there ain’t much to do here, so I was goin’ to go on a road trip anyhow. Ain’t like I-”

“Road trip?” asked Kalahari. “Why?”

Ida glanced over her shoulder. “Makin’ the most of my final stupid teenager years,” she grinned. “Gotta see Equestria, you know? I’ll be stayin’ here, for sure, but I want to see the world a bit ‘fore that happens.” She faced forward again. “Ma’s all right with it, and she can handle the farm for a few months, ‘specially once Dad gets back from his business trip.”

“And you’re paying for this… how?”

“My own money.” Ida sounded slightly annoyed. “Ma and Dad pay me for the work I do, and I’ve been savin’ for a while. I ain’t just gonna ask them for money.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Eh, that’s fine.”

By now, they arrived back at the house. After dropping the baskets off at the barn (which already had an awful lot of baskets), the trio headed back into the house and to the dining room. Chandra and Kerry were in the living room; talking about meteor showers or something, from what Kalahari could make out.

“And here’s the sketch,” said Phalanx, tapping it with his hoof. “Do you recognize her, o-”

“Amber?”

“…I’ll take that as a yes.”

“Seriously?” asked Kalahari. “How do you know her?”

Ida pulled the picture towards her, frowning. “I sometimes sell stuff in the Crystal Empire, and I’ve gotta get me and the apples there somehow, so I usually take the train. One time, the engineer came up and said, ‘Hey,’ she said, ‘your cider’s good, but it sells out too fast, and I can’t get any.’ And she said, ‘I’ll let you ride for free if you give me a carton early.’ I looked at the money, and it was good for me, so I said, ‘Sure,’ I said. After a while of this, we became friends, and, well…” She shrugged. “Her name’s Amber Waves. I can find her, and it’s probably best I go with you. She can be a bit…” Ida coughed. “…hem, jumpy.”

“Well, we’ve got this much,” said Phalanx, rolling up the picture. “More than we had.” He looked out the window and frowned at the early sunset. “It’s a bit late to be heading up to the Crystal Empire, though.”

“You can stay here for the night,” said Ida brightly. “Ma won’t mind.”

“You’re sure?” asked Kalahari. “I don’t want to-”

“Hey! Ma!” Ida yelled to the living room. “Can they stay with us for the night? I’m goin’ to the Crystal Empire with them tomorrow!”

“Are you gonna help me with a larger dinner?” Kerry hollered back. “And fix up the guest room?”

“Sure!”

“Then absolutely!”

Ida turned back to Kalahari and Phalanx, grinning broadly.

“Don’t. Say. Anything,” growled Kalahari.

As dinner was being made and after Kerry had beaten down her offers to help (“You’re a guest! I’d be a terrible host if I had you workin’!”), Kalahari decided to dig into the Elements of Harmony book again. She’d gotten it, and darn it, she was going to read it. Cover to cover, if she could manage it.

Settling down in the living room, she cracked open the book to where she had left off, where Twilight was talking about how she and five friends had found the Elements to use against Nightmare Moon. But the Elements are far more than just jewels, rocks, or fashionable accessories. What they represent, what they are, goes much deeper th-

“Whatcha doin’?”

Kalahari flinched, looked up, flinched, and backed up. The filly in front of her was so close their muzzles had practically been touching. She was young, just barely into elementary-school-age. (Which, given Ida’s age, said some interesting things about Kerry.) She was a bright green with big, round eyes of deep blue. Her mane, tied into pigtails, was crimson. Plastered all across her face was a look of curiosity.

After collecting her thoughts, Kalahari said, “Research.” Praying that that sounded boring enough for the filly to ignore her, she went back to reading. …what they a-

“What kinda research?” The filly had that adorably cloying lisp that foals always seem to have at that age. She moved in a bit closer to Kalahari, trying to look at the book.

“Boring research.” Please go away. I’m bu-

“You look funny. Are you a zebra? What’s your name?”

Resigned to the incessant nagging of youthful curiosity, Kalahari nudged the book to the side. “Yes. I’m Kalahari. What’s y-”

“Auntie Bloom knew a zebra. She said Granny AJ was scared of her.” The filly squinted at Kalahari. “You don’t look scary.”

Well. Exactly what are you supposed to say to that?

“I’m Jonagold,” said the filly. She walked over to where Kalahari had pushed the book. “Whatcha readin’?”

“It’s a book.”

“What kinda book?”

“It’s about the Elements of Harmony.”

“What’re those?”

Kalahari was about to give as best a description as she could when she realized that something as dry as that definitely wasn’t going to get Jonagold to stop pestering her. So why not have some fun? She glanced around the room faux-furtively, then leaned in close to Jonagold and whispered, “Can you keep a secret?”

Jonagold’s eyes went wide. She nodded vigorously as she leaned closer to Kalahari.

“Well,” Kalahari whispered, “when put together, the Elements of Harmony form an ancient laser gun.”

“Lasers?” Jonagold said softly.

“Lasers,” said Kalahari, nodding sagely. “All throughout history, ponies have fought over them. You know why Nightmare Moon went bad?”

Jonagold’s eyes were so wide they were practically bigger than her head. “Why?”

“Because she wanted the Elements for herself, so she could rule Equestria alone.” Kalahari pulled Jonagold even closer with a foreleg. “But Celestia was having none of that, oh no, so she took the Elements, and BLAM!” Kalahari yelled the last word and stomped hard on the floor, drawing a frightened squeak from Jonagold. “She blasted Nightmare Moon straight to the moon!”

Jonagold scrunched up her muzzle. “Serves her right for being a meanieface.”

“Oh, yes,” said Kalahari. “But Celestia was scared of the Elements’ power, so she scattered them across Equestria, where they could never be used again. So across the centuries, ponies have tried to find them for their own gain, failing every time.”

“Bet Daring Do could’ve found ‘em,” said Jonagold emphatically. “Owie-Soda would look for them, but Daring Do’d beat him an’ his cats up an’ take them back an’-”

“But she did! She found the Elements, then had to hide them to keep them safe. We’re following in her hoofsteps.”

Jonagold’s expression became one of exaggerated skepticism. “But it wasn’t in any of her books!”

“Of course not, silly,” said Kalahari, tapping Jonagold on the nose. “Then it wouldn’t be a secret, would it?”

“Oooooooh.”

A deep bell rang through the house and across the fields. “Soup’s on, everypony!” yelled Kerry. “Come and get it!”

“Now,” whispered Kalahari, “remember, this is a secret. You must not tell anypony.” She held up a hoof. “Promise?”

Jonagold’s hoof was dwarfed by Kalahari’s as she put them together. “Promise.”

At that moment, Phalanx came down the stairs, having offered to arrange the guest room. “You two look busy,” he observed.

“We are!” said Jonagold, speaking up before Kalahari could. “Kalahali told me about your…” She dropped her voice. “…secret mission!”

Phalanx raised an eyebrow. “Oh? And what’d she tell you?”

“You’re gonna find the Laserments of Harmony! So you can blast bad guys with them!” said Jonagold brightly.

Phalanx looked at Jonagold as she darted off to her seat, then at Kalahari, a Seriously? look chiseled all over his face. “The Laserments of Harmony?”

“I didn’t call them that.”

“Did you call them lasers?”

“Yeah.”

“…Wwwwhy?”

“Well, she’s a kid, and if you look at how they’re used, that kinda is what they are…”

Phalanx snorted and flicked his tail at her as he followed Jonagold into the dining room.

An awful lot of food was laid out on the table, and it covered the gamut of types: grains, fruits (mostly apples) and veggies, soup, you name it, it was probably there. Servings were already on each pony’s plate, almost to overflowing.

“I hope it’s enough,” said Kerry as everyone took their seats. “I wasn’t plannin’ on three extra ponies stoppin’ by and had to throw some more stuff together at last minute.”

“I… think it’ll be enough,” said Kalahari, staring at all the food. If this isn’t definitely enough for us, what is?

There was a minute or so of relative silence where everyone was too busy eating to say anything significant. Chandra in particular dug in with gusto, demolishing half her plate well before anyone else. Given her size, Kalahari wondered where she put it all.

As she was spooning some more applesauce onto her plate, Chandra asked, “So, if you don’t mind me asking, where’s Mr. Apple? I haven’t seen him around.”

“Dad’s in Manehattan,” said Ida through a mouthful of cranberries. “Business trip.”

“He grew up ‘round those parts,” added Kerry. “In the Broncs, specifically. Still knows some folks there, so he always goes there when we got somethin’ over there that needs doin’. Left just a few days ago, so he should be back in a week or so. Maybe two.”

“Shame,” said Chandra. “I would’ve liked to meet him.”

“I’m sure the feelin’s mutual. You just got unlucky, is all,” said Ida, shrugging. “He’s here most of the time, after all. And- Kal, how come you’re not touchin’ your applesauce? Does it taste bad?”

Did she really have to point it out? “I’m not a big fan of apples,” said Kalahari. (Kerry and Ida looked slightly put out.) “Or sauces, for that matter.” She ran the tip of her hoof through the applesauce, leaving behind a trail. “I don’t really like their texture.” She scraped her hoof on her napkin.

“Oh, come ooooon,” said Ida, “I put a lotta work into that. And you’re just gonna let it sit there without even tryin’ it once? C’mon, you’ll like it!”

“Can I have your applesauce?” piped up Jonagold. “If you’re not go-”

“Jona, don’t take food that isn’t yours,” said Kerry sternly. “We’ve been over this.”

“But Mooom, if she-”

As Kerry and Jonagold argued, Ida leaned in close to Kalahari and lowered her voice. “Seriously, though, pleeeaaase? Can you try it just once? I think it’s the food I’m best at, and I’d hate to have you not even try it.”

“Fine.” Kalahari frowned at the applesauce for a moment, then dubiously licked at it.

Four point seven seconds later, her muzzle was plastered with it, the bowl was half-empty, and Kalahari was continuing to dig in with gusto. “I take it all back,” she said. Nom. “I take back-” Nom. “-everything bad-” Nom. “-I may have ever said-” Nom. “-about apples-” Nom. “-and sauces.” Nom. “This is heaven.” Nom nom.

“Told you you’d like it,” said Ida. Her tone was ostensibly one of humility, but Kalahari recognized her expression as one that was almost-but-not-quite concealing a smug, satisfied grin. Well, let her have it. This was good applesauce.

A few more pushes had Kalahari trying other apple foods; they were better than she thought they’d be. And before she knew it, she’d eaten too much, most of the food was gone, and Kerry and Phalanx were already clearing the dirty dishes off the table.

“Y’know, Phalanx,” Kerry said, “I always thought you were a big eater, but then you go and bring Chandra ‘round.” She laughed. “She musta eaten her own weight in food!”

“Don’t look at me,” said Phalanx. “I didn’t know her until today.” He turned to Kalahari. “Although you did.”

“From college,” Kalahari said to Kerry. “And, hey, when I knew her, she didn’t eat that much.”

“Oh, don’t you worry, it ain’t a problem,” said Kerry, waving a hoof dismissively. “Just an observation. ‘Sides, if she eats that much, she likes it, and there ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.” She began loading the dirty dishes into the dishwasher. “Now, there’s two beds in the guest room, and I had Ida make them. Unfortunately, we ain’t got any more beds, so one o-”

“I can sleep on the sofa,” said Phalanx. “I’ve been through worse.”

“Alrighty then,” said Kerry happily. “Glad that’s all settled. Bed-shufflin’s always the worst part ‘bout havin’ company over.”

Kalahari glanced out the window and was a bit surprised to see that the sun had already almost set. Stupid autumn and its stupid shorter days. “Listen, it’s been a long day for me. I’m going to head up and get some sleep for tomorrow. And if we leave before you’re up, thanks again for letting us stay, and thanks for the food; it was great.”

Kerry nodded. “Uh-huh. You take care, now.”

Taking the Elements of Harmony book with her, Kalahari went upstairs and poked around the rooms until she found the guest room. It was simple -- not much more than two beds and a dresser for each -- but it was enough. Kalahari couldn’t help but notice that Ida wasn’t the best at making beds; there were an awful lot of wrinkles in the sheets and some ends were sticking out. But Kalahari would take a badly-made bed over no bed any day, and when she settled in, it was more than comfortable enough.

Setting her book on the pillow, she leafed through the pages. Where was I, again? It only took her a few seconds to pick up where she left off. But the Elements are far more than just jewels, rocks, or fashionable accessories. What they represent, what they are, goes much deeper than simple physicality; they are inextricably linked to the essence of harmony in all of Equestria…

6 - Home Invasion

Where Iron Phalanx was a stereotypical pegasus guard, Captain Dauntless Vanguard was a stereotypical unicorn guard; perhaps even a bit more so. His dark gray coat was practically polished, it was so uniform. His brilliant amber eyes bespoke bravery and a determination to protect everyone he could. His mane and tail were carefully trimmed down to the millimeter. He was big, muscular; he looked like he would be a formidable bastion in combat, a pony you wouldn’t want to cross. All in all, he gave off a regal composure befitting of the Protective Pony Platoons and the Captain of the Canterlot Royal Guard.

As long as you never saw him as he was currently: still asleep, sprawled out on his cot in the barracks, head hanging over the edge, a thin strand of drool dangling towards the floor, mane in a complete mess in spite of its short length, and snoring up a storm. Rough sleep can make anyone look bad.

He rolled over, snorted, and blearily blinked sleep out his eyes as he woke up. He squinted at the window, trying to get a look at whatever light was coming in as a quick guess at the time. Nothing. A thought pierced through the dim fog of sleep: So I’m probably up early.

Stretching his legs out, Vanguard glanced at the clock. 5:34. Yep; early. Annoyingly, though, it was just at the wrong place in the boundary of very-early and barely-early. Not enough time to get back to sleep and sneak a few more winks in, too much time to just lie resting and awake in bed until it was actually time to get up. Bleh.

With not much else to do, Vanguard yawned and rolled out of bed. He landed on his back, sending a jolt up and down his spine from his horn to his tail. He grunted, turned upright, and pushed himself to his hooves. He could get a little bit of exercise in. Maybe get to the mess hall early and actually get some of the halfway-decent food for once. Rank didn’t matter much in the mess hall; when it came to food, royal guards were fierce.

He walked quietly out of the barracks, careful not to wake anyone. Royal guards had a special kind of crankiness if woken up for no good reason. Once he was outside, he gave a quick nod to the nightwatchpony, just so he knew he was out. With the shifts ready to change soon, the guards on duty weren’t quite at their best.

Vanguard left the barracks and headed into Canterlot for a trot around town. Even though Canterlot was more or less dead this time of day (or night or whatever), nopony’d think much of it; every now and then, a guard who couldn’t sleep would do exactly what Vanguard was doing and trot through town for an exercise. Or simply get up early for it. They were quiet, and they didn’t disturb anypony, so nopony cared all that much.

Knowing Canterlot like the back of his hoof, Vanguard immediately went first for a circuit of the palace grounds. The palace had the best view of the mountainside, and Vanguard always liked going over there to look out over the land. He squinted up at the deep blue sky and its stars. It’s early for sunrise, but should still be a halfway-decent view from the moonlight. Good thing the moon’s still full tonight.

As he began his trot through town, Vanguard noticed a largish group of ponies moving through town as well, maybe a dozen and half, a roughly even assortment of earth, unicorn, and pegasus. That, in itself, wasn’t too unusual. There were always a few ponies up. With a group this size, they could’ve been a group of college foals doing an all-nighter or something.

What was unusual was the fact that they were completely silent -- you’d think a group that size would have at least some ponies talking amongst themselves -- and heading towards the palace.

It didn’t trigger any alarm bells just yet, but military paranoia made Vanguard expectantly reach for the switch. If they were trying to break into the palace, they’d run into the guards stationed there. If those guards captured them, fine. If they managed to incapacitate the guards before anyone could sound the alarm… Well, Vanguard decided he’d try to stay out of sight, just in case.

It wasn’t that hard; their hoof-falls were quiet, but at this time of night, the only other things making noise were the wind and the occasional cricket. Vanguard followed them by sound, traveling on parallel roads to keep buildings between them and him. Sometimes he lost them, but never for long; he knew Canterlot well enough to predict where they’d be.

A few minutes of pursuit later, Vanguard let the alarm bells go off in his head. They were outside the palace, with the group using one of the last buildings as cover from the guards for… something. Vanguard poked his head around another building just in time to see them launch round things from several large slingshots. The projectiles trailed some sort of inky smoke; Vanguard couldn’t be sure of their color in the moonlight, but they looked purple.

Before Vanguard had time to track their path, each one smacked into a patrolling guard, exploding in a larger cloud of smoke. Tired from their shift, the guards hadn’t noticed the missiles in time.

The guards froze in place, apparently choking. Then they limply keeled over, one after the other.

The ponies promptly made a break for the door, leaving the guards’ bodies behind them.

Vanguard chased after them, mentally cursing himself. I should’ve stopped them. Yelled out. Tried to sprint ahead of them to warn the guards here. Something. But now, some of my stallions are probably dead, just because I didn’t think to do anything.

But as he drew near one body, he heard a breath. It wasn’t a death rattle, more of a gasp. It wasn’t much, but it brought Vanguard’s heart up a bit. They might not be dead after all.

Vanguard skidded to a stop next to the pony, a pegasus. He was twitching stiffly on the ground. He couldn’t move. Paralysis, probably. “Can you hear me?” whispered Vanguard.

The pony’s eyes swiveled to look at Vanguard. Yes, then. A moan came from his mouth. Like he was trying to speak, but couldn’t.

“Blink once for yes, twice for no. Got that?”

Blink. Not that paralyzed, then.

“Can you move at all?”

Blink blink.

“Does it hurt?”

There was a pause. Then: blink. Then: blink blink.

Sort of? “On a scale of one to ten.”

Blink blink blink.

Huh. You’d think it’d hurt more. “I’m going to sound the alarm, then I’m heading in there after them,” said Vanguard, nodding towards the door. “I’m sorry I can’t get help for you, but the Princesses are our priority.”

Blink. The pegasus understood.

Vanguard promptly bolted for the palace door. Inside, he managed to catch a last glimpse of a tail whisking around a corner. Another paralyzed guard lay in the middle of the hallway. Vanguard didn’t chase after the invaders immediately, though. Instead, he ducked inside a currently-vacant guard post just inside the entrance. He grabbed a red cord hanging in there and yanked hard.

Immediately, a low, droning horn began resounding through the corridors of the palace. The invasion alarm. Guards throughout the palace would immediately report to key areas for defense, stalling any group that tried to break in.

That settled, Vanguard left the post and sprinted after the invaders, scooping up the fallen guard’s pike as he passed with a quick, “Sorry.” They’d turned left, hadn’t they? Yeah. The Princesses’ sleeping quarters were in that direction. Luna was still up, of course, but Celestia…

When he slid around the corner, Vanguard didn’t see the group. Probably after Celestia, though. Could be coincidence, but unlikely. And from here, the sleeping quarters were- Vanguard took the second door on the right and ran up the staircase inside.

Jackpot. He heard the group bickering amongst themselves further up. Not quietly, either; with the alarm, keeping silent wouldn’t do anything. Vanguard tiptoed up a few more steps, trying to listen to them, to get an idea of their plans.

“I’m telling you, I got all the guards out there. You certainly didn’t tell me I missed any.” A stallion’s voice. Kinda husky.

“Someone in a side hall, maybe? I told you we were going too fast.” A mare’s. Tentative, maybe a little scared.

“It was necessary, we were behind schedule,” snapped a second mare. Light, a little breathy, still somehow commanded authority. “And it doesn’t matter how or why, because whoever sounded the alarm’s probably following us. You, you, and you: stay here, delay anypony who comes up those stairs.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Three voices in unison.

“The rest of us need to keep moving.” Vanguard heard a clopping sound as, presumably, the group headed deeper into the palace. They weren’t on the stairs anymore, at least. It was the right level for the sleeping quarters.

So. They were well-organized, that one mare was the leader, they had a schedule of some kind, and they were going after Celestia. Hmm. Not to mention the three ponies outside the stairwell right now.

First things first. Vanguard couldn’t stick his head out the right door without exposing himself and alerting the ponies outside, so he couldn’t see their positions. Regrettable, but he could get around that. Jump out yelling and screaming to surprise them; crude, but effective. And if they were this organized, they may or may not have some kind of combat training.

But then, Vanguard had a pike; he had reach. He was a unicorn; he had magic. He was the Captain of the Guard; he had more experience and/or skill than most other ponies in the service.

Vanguard wasn’t too worried about his chances.

After tensing for a moment, he threw himself through the doorway, screaming bloody murder around the pike he held clenched firmly between his teeth. The three ponies outside jumped in surprise, and in the half-second it took for them to regain their senses, Vanguard looked over them as best he could.

Triangular formation. Two unicorns, one earth, all mares. Unicorn right ahead, earth three yards away at 1 o’clock, other unicorn six yards at 10. Can handle this.

He swung the pike, aiming for the unicorn right in front of him. The earth pony danced back a step, trying to avoid it, even though it wouldn’t’ve hit her if she’d stayed still; Vanguard knew that trying to sweep two ponies at once was generally a bad idea. It was better to hit one opponent with more damage.

The pike hit the unicorn right in the flank, knocking the wind out of her and sending her flying towards the wall. Vanguard jumped forward at the same time, using the resistance of the unicorn as a sort of fulcrum for the pike to propel himself forward, towards the second unicorn. His rear hooves caught her in the chest just as he released the pike. The two of them rolled briefly across the floor before Vanguard gained the upper hoof and smashed her head against the floor, knocking her out.

One down, one to go, one coming up. Vanguard was turning to the earth pony when she slammed into his side and smashed him into the wall. A pained breath escaped him and his head bounced off the stone, sending stars swimming across his vision.

Vanguard blinked a few times and instinctively shuffled to one side. The earth pony’s front hooves hit the wall where his head had been, hard enough to crack the stone and inches from his face. She froze for a moment, cringing at the shocks from the hard impact, and Vanguard took the opportunity to headbutt her in the chest. The move could easily do terrible things to his horn, but he was still too dazed to summon up any sort of magic and too close for anything else.

His head rang, but it worked; the mare had the breath knocked out of her and she staggered away, gasping. Pivoting on a front hoof, Vanguard whirled around and bucked her in the ribs. The blow was too much for her and she collapsed with a moan.

But when she did, a magic missile impacted the wall right behind Vanguard. With her friend out of commission, the last unicorn could freely aim at Vanguard without worrying about friendly fire. Vanguard turned to face her in time to see a blur of color tackle her from one side.

A pegasus guard, Steel Ringer, finally responding to the alarm. “Hi, Captain!” he yelled out, dissonantly cheerful as he and his opponent rolled across the floor. “You doing-” His head hit the wall; he planted his rear hooves in the unicorn’s belly and pushed her away. “-all right?”

“I’ve been better.” Vanguard telekinetically snatched the unicorn from the air and threw her down to the floor. With no ponies attempting to murder him anymore, he took the opportunity to magically bind her hooves; it wouldn’t last forever, but it’d last long enough. “Where’re the other guards?”

Ringer shook himself off. “Most of them’re going to Celestia’s bedchambers for defense. Some of the remainder’re combing the rest of the palace in case we’re wrong, and the rest -- one of which is yours truly -- are taking a roundabout route to the chambers in the hopes that, if we’re right, we can flank them from behind. Obviously, we were right.”

Vanguard finished restraining the other two mares. “Good to have you. If they throw something like a bottle at you, hold your breath. They’ve got some kind of paralytic gas.”

“Good to know.”

Vanguard and Ringer set off towards Celestia’s quarters. As they galloped, they kept passing by guards, stiff and paralyzed on the floor. Every now and then they’d see one or two of the invading group knocked out, obvious by their lack of armor, but Vanguard was still troubled by how little of them there were. But at least the invaders were getting whittled down.

Vanguard knew when they were getting closer to Celestia’s quarters and motioned for Ringer to keep quiet. As he neared a corner, he could hear the invaders bickering; there were still four or five different voices. “What do you mean it’s locked?” hissed the leader.

“I mean it’s locked,” snapped a stallion. “It was probably sealed once the alarm was pulled.”

Motioning to Ringer to stay back, Vanguard poked his head around a corner. A cluster of paralyzed guards were scattered in front of Celestia’s doors, while the remaining invaders, three of them, were right up against the doors. One of them was pulling something out of a set of saddlebags; it looked like an air pump of some kind. “Luckily for you,” the stallion said, “I came prepared.” He began shoving an air hose underneath the door.

Vanguard heard some hooves behind him and turned around. Six more guards were trotting up, the rest of the rear guard Ringer had mentioned. The moment Vanguard stepped up in front of them, they all snapped to attention.

“All right, stallions,” Vanguard whispered, “we outnumber them almost three to one. Maybe they’ll surrender if they see us. You know what to do if they don’t, but if they throw something at you, hold your breath.”

The small contingent collectively nodded, and, with them at his back, Vanguard stepped around the corner to face the invaders. For a moment, they didn’t seem to notice him and were still squabbling amongst themselves as they fit a container filled with green mist on top of the pump. Then one of the mares noticed Vanguard and jabbed the other in the ribs. She turned and flinched a little when she saw the group, and promptly began digging around in a saddlebag.

Nope. No surrender today. “Move in!” Vanguard yelled to the guards. Guessing that the mare who had noticed them was the leader, he made a move towards her.

But there was a lot of space to cover, and before he was halfway, the second mare had found what she was looking for: another one of those paralytics. She lightly tossed it into the air, then spun and bucked it towards the guards.

Vanguard dug his hooves into the floor and skidded to a halt as he took a deep breath. Behind him, he could hear the others doing the same. In front of him, the paralytic beaker was arcing gracefully through the air; behind it the first mare and the stallion were still scrambling to get the container on the pump.

An idea popped into Vanguard’s head. Reaching out with his magic, he caught the beaker and flung it back towards the invaders. Paralyze them and keep them from turning on the pump, whatever it was for. Easy.

In the second it took the thrower to process what had happened, the beaker hit the ground in front of her and shattered, obscuring the invaders in a cloud of purple smoke. “Get ready to move in once the smoke clears, but watch yourselves,” Vanguard muttered to the stallions behind him. “It might not have gotten everypony.” Which seemed unlikely, but it always paid to be prepared.

Including this case. A light winked on through the haze and a low hum started up. The smoke began to clear; the first mare was standing next to the pump, protected by a shield of magic. The container had been secured to the pump and was depleting rapidly.

Crap. This wasn’t going well. Vanguard cleared his throat. “Turn off the pump and step away from the door,” he said, taking a few steps forward. “Don’t make me use force.” He doubted it would work, but it might take a while to break through the shield, longer than he had.

No luck. The mare didn’t even glance at Phalanx, and the pump was empty before he could respond. With a soft chuckle, the mare turned to Vanguard, grinning broadly. “Go ahead! Do your worst! It doesn’t matter now, f-”

Part of the outside wall exploded inward and a powerful blast of magic shattered the mare’s shield and slammed into her. She was blown across the floor, spinning wildly for several moment until she managed to get a grip on the floor. The pump went sailing past her and smashed into a wall, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. She turned to face her assailant, snarling, until she saw who assailant was and shrank back, eyes wide and ears back.

Luna stood over her, horn glowing, wings beating. Her ears were folded back, she was pawing at the ground, and she looked angry enough to start spitting fire. She wasn’t actively casting magic, but she was still radiating it with such intensity that the mare’s shield crumbled before her. “We do not tolerate trespassers.”

Her voice was booming, but this wasn’t the Royal Canterlot Voice. This was a voice Vanguard had only heard a few times before and was sincerely glad he hadn’t heard it any more. This was a voice tinged with barely restrained anger. This was the Start Praying Before I End You Voice, and Luna was damn good at it.

“The Elements of Harmony stolen, I go without sleep for thirty-six hours, and just when things seem to be calming down, now you show up?” she said, taking another step forward. The pony took another step back. “You ought to be thankful that I have kept my temper in check enough to not vaporize you where you stand!” If possible, her voice was rising. Everypony in the room was shying away from her. “As it stands, you dese-”

“Luna.”

The door to the bedchambers was pushed open, and Celestia strode out in spite of being half-asleep. She was missing her crown, her mane wasn’t done (Vanguard’s thoughts faltered a bit trying to process how weird that looked on her), but she still had the presence of royalty about her. Everypony not cowering in front of Luna immediately bowed.

Luna whirled to face Celestia, but her gaze softened, if only a smidgen, and when she spoke, her voice was distinctly quieter. “Celestia, I-”

“Calm down. It’s done.” Celestia put a hoof to her mouth and coughed. “I’m fine, the ones responsible for the invasion have been captured, and, most importantly, it’s 6 in the morning. Please stop yelling.” Luna may have been more intimidating overall, but Celestia could get you to listen without raising her voice.

Luna opened her mouth, but it took her a few moments to spit out, “Very well.” She took a few steps out of the center, giving Celestia the stage, but not before shooting the captured mare a very angry look.

Celestia turned to Vanguard. “Captain.”

“Ma’am,” said Vanguard, saluting.

Celestia coughed again. “Everything is under control, right?”

“Yes’m,” said Vanguard, nodding. “Those captured are already being taken into custody as we speak. As far as I know, n-”

Celestia silenced him with a quick wave of her hoof. “Please, I don’t want the specifics right now. But stay afterwards; you can give a full report then.” She turned to the captured mare, who was still shaking and staring at Luna with eyes wider than dinner plates. Celestia lightly tapped her on the shoulder, drawing her attention. “I’ll be talking to you later,” she said to the mare. Considering she was talking to someone who had just tried to kill her, Celestia’s voice was surprisingly friendly and free of malice. “I’m sure we can come to some arrangement to learn why you did this.”

The mare blinked twice, then looked bizarrely calm for a moment. At least until Luna pushed her head against the former’s. “And if we do not,” she hissed, “you will hear from me.”

All the mare could say as she was led away was a high-pitched, “Meep.”

Following after her, the rest of the guards led or dragged the remaining prisoners and the remains of the pump away; it wasn’t long before Vanguard and the princesses were the only ponies left outside the door. (Vanguard attempted to convince Celestia to let a few of them stay to protect her, but no dice; Celestia was in one of her rare stubborn moods.) With everyone gone, Luna sighed. “Too much?” she muttered to Celestia.

“Maybe a little.”

“I apologize, Tia,” said Luna, “but the last few days have left me a touch… frustrated.” She rubbed her head. “I was just thinking that maybe I should’ve downplayed it back a little.”

“Actually,” said Celestia, “in this case, I think hamming it up may have been the right idea. They couldn’t have gotten this far into the palace without some amount of confidence, and you just deflated that confidence by quite a bit, I imagine. That’ll soften her up for later.”

Luna smiled tentatively. “Good. I’d hate to have disrupted a lead so early.”

As they were speaking, Vanguard’s mind was spinning. It almost sounded like… “Excuse me,” he interrupted, “but… are you really playing Good Princess/Bad Princess?”

“Well… of a sort,” said Luna. “It has worked in the past, or at least similar methods have. It might not, everypony’s different, but there’s no hurt in trying, is there?” She shrugged.

“And you just… happened to be ready for it?” Vanguard asked, unable to keep a little bit of incredulity out of his voice. “And knew that Celestia would know what you were doing?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “My sister and I have worked together for centuries, even discounting my time in the moon. Needless to say, we know each other quite well.”

“Ah.”

“Now, then,” said Celestia, “I’d like to hear the details of this invasion.”

“Right.” Vanguard cleared his throat. “I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep. I was out for a quick run when I saw a group of ponies. There were…” Vanguard racked his mind for the exact number, didn’t come up with it, and guessed. “…about sixteen or seventeen of them. Considering the size of the group, they weren’t talking much, which was suspicious, so I followed them to the palace. They paralyzed the guards outside with some kind of gas held in… bottles, I think, before I could do anything. Launched them with slingshots. I followed them inside, activated the alarm, and tracked them to here. They tried to leave behind groups to slow me down, but other guards were alerted by the alarm and restrained them. Two of them got paralyzed from the gas when one of the bottles broke. By the time I got here, the last one remaining -- I think she was their leader -- did something to the door, I don’t know what. Then Luna came in and you woke up.”

“Hmm.” Celestia coughed again. “Well, aside from a scratchy throat, I feel fine, so whatever they did can’t have worked.”

“Tia, we cannot be sure of that,” said Luna anxiously. “You need a medical examination, just to be safe. What if it is, just as an example, a slow-acting poison? You may not feel the effects now, but days or weeks down the line-”

“Yes, yes.” Celestia dismissively waved a hoof at Luna. “I’ll get to that soon enough. Captain, is there anything you need to add?”

“No, Princess.”

“Then you are dismissed.” Celestia waved Vanguard away with a hoof and set about repairing Luna’s hole in the wall.

Vanguard bowed, but gears were turning in his head. Celestia was being awfully blasé about this. Sure, nothing appeared to have happened, but at the same time, Luna had a point; they just didn’t know enough. While Celestia was arguably justified in sending away any bodyguards (She raised and lowered the sun! How are you supposed to bodyguard someone like that in a way they couldn’t do much better themselves?), there was also the matter of P.R.; Equestria would feel better if it saw Celestia being protected by a small cadre of guards after an assassination attempt. She’d be aware of this; was she just too tired to want to bother? And then there was Celestia just kind of… letting the leader go. Yeah, she went to the dungeon, but Celestia didn’t have much of a reaction, considering she was almost murdered. Luna may have been the fiercer one, but even Celestia’s patience had its limits. It was like she wanted to forget about it, brush everything under the rug as quickly as possible. Which, okay, wasn’t that bad of a thing to do, but she was usually one to find out why somepony would want to kill her rather than let any murderous grudges sit.

And yet, as he left, in spite of all his mental turmoil, Vanguard couldn’t forget that Celestia had really bad bedhead.

7 - Paranoia

Chandra was stretched out on the guest bed, snoozing contentedly, when-

“Hey.” Somepony poked her.

Chandra groaned and rolled over. If she’d been awake enough to form a complete thought, it would’ve been, Leave me alone. I’m sleeping.

“Hey.” Poke poke. “It’s time to get up.” Phalanx? Probably.

“Mmffll,” mumbled Chandra.

“Oh, come on. Really?” Poke poke. “You’re doing that?”

“Mmff-mmff.”

“I’ve already done a circuit of the town.”

“Mmm’f mfff.”

“Twice.”

“Mm m’mf mrr.”

“And if you don’t get up now, Kalahari’ll finish all the pancakes.”

Pancakes? Chandra’s ears shot straight up like rockets and she managed to push her head off the pillow. She blinked blearily.

“You won’t even get to try any of the apple syrup,” continued Phalanx. “Which is a bit odd, but good.”

“‘M up,” muttered Chandra as she flopped out of bed. She pushed herself to her hooves and yawned widely. “I’m up.”

Phalanx raised an eyebrow as he watched Chandra lurch down the stairs. “Ostensibly.”

Chandra could smell the pancakes long before she reached the dining room. Right before the dining room, she heard the distinct om-nom-noming of someone chowing down on said pancakes. She stumbled into the dining room to see Kalahari muzzle-deep in a large platter of pancakes saturated with syrup. Ida was at the stove, pouring some batter into a pan. Through one of the windows, the sun was already above the horizon, although the sky wasn’t blue just yet.

Ida turned when she heard Chandra’s hooves on the floor. “Tandva!” she said around the measuring cup in her mouth. “Yuh’h uff.” She set the cup down on the counter. “We’re almost out of pancakes, thanks to your friend here.” She nodded towards Kalahari.

Kalahari pulled her head out of the pancakes, syrup dripping down her nose. After a few seconds of chewing, she swallowed and said, “Hey, it’s been too long since I’ve had homemade pancakes. I’m going to take all that I can get.” She went right back to it.

“Uh-huh,” said Chandra. She got a closer look at Kalahari’s plate. “You’ve got more syrup than you do pancakes.”

Kalahari froze mid-chew. She swallowed guiltily, her ears folded back, and muttered, “I… I like syrup…”

“Hey, just an observation.”

“Speaking of…” Ida slid a plate with a steaming-hot pancake in front of Chandra. “Maple syrup or apple?”

Chandra mulled it over for a moment. “I’ll try the apple syrup.”

Ida dropped the bottle next to the plate. “Hope you like it. It’s my own recipe.”

“Weawwy?” Kalahari asked through another mouthful of pancake. “Wha ma’ ‘oo twy ‘o ma’ i’?”

Somehow, Ida managed to decipher the garble. “Few years ago, I said to myself, ‘Ida,’ I said, ‘workin’ the farm’s all fine and dandy, but you need to leave your mark somehow,’ I said. ‘But how?’ I asked myself. ‘Why not make something?’ I responded. Well, I figured, you can make syrup from maple trees, why not apple trees?”

Kalahari swallowed. “Because apple trees don’t store their starch like that,” she said. “See, in maple trees, for win-”

“Shush,” said Chandra, about to get started on her pancakes. “Let her talk.”

“Well, yeah, something like that,” said Ida, a bit put-out at being preempted. “After that didn’t work, I was ready to toss that idea, ‘til I said, ‘Ida,’ I said, ‘you ain’t givin’ up because one measly try didn’t work out,’ I said. ‘Try somethin’ else.’ So I started with applesauce instead, and…” She shrugged. “…long story short, it worked. Ain’t perfect just yet, but I’m still working on it.”

Chandra, meanwhile, was digging in. The apple syrup was a bit runny, but still good. It tasted a bit like apple cider. The combination it made with pancakes was one of those things that was better in practice than on paper, like pizza and pineapple. “Well, if you get it right-” Nom. “-I’d certainly buy it. It’s good.”

“Thanks.”

A set of saddlebags suddenly came sailing down the staircase and landed on the floor with a whump. A few seconds later, another set followed them. And another. Phalanx followed shortly thereafter, carrying the last set. “Got everything,” he said. “We can leave as soon as you’re done down here.”

“Ahmost,” said Chandra around a smaller-than-usual amount of pancakes. She swallowed. “So, Ida, have you ever been to the Crystal Empire for fun before?”

Ida shook her head. “Never really had the time. Can get busy ‘round the farm, and I’m almost always needed. But never all that interested, either; I already know I’m goin’ to stay here when I grow up. Still, I won’t deny that I’m excited. Any of you ever been there?”

No one had. “It’s beautiful,” said Ida. “You just can’t get tired of lookin’ at it.”

“We’re not going to have much time for looking,” said Phalanx. “This is important; we need to find that witness ASAP. We won’t be able to do much more than a short walk.”

“If you’d ever been there, you’d know that a short walk’s enough.”

“I mean a short short walk, not something like-”

Chandra swallowed the last of her pancake and interrupted. “Just finished, so we can get going once you two finish arguing about our travel itinerary.”

Both Phalanx and Ida looked at her and snorted.

It was pretty coming up, but Phalanx couldn’t deny that by the time the train reached the Crystal Empire, he was ready to get off. It was a long ways from Ponyville to here (to the point that it was already afternoon), and he didn’t like being stuck in one place with nothing to do.

He was first off the train, and, partly out of habit, began scanning the crowd. The sparkly, sparkly crowd. Phalanx had never really known before that Crystal Ponies would be so… well, crystalline. He’d always thought that was more a figure of speech than anything, but at noon on a clear day, it’d probably be almost blinding. Pictures had never been able to show just how shiny they were.

But, for now, Phalanx disregarded the sparkly sparkliness. Almost immediately, he noticed an awful lot of guards around. Well, not a lot a lot, but still too many for a train station. They weren’t searching anyone, but they were looking over the crowd like they were looking for someone. They had those quickly-flitting glances. Why?

Phalanx faux-meandered through the crowd, trying to get a quick glimpse at their ranks and see who was in charge. The highest-ranking one was a lieutenant. Odd; for something like this, that was a bit low. Unless his superior was somewhere else. Yeah, probably.

Phalanx sized him up, having never really seen a Crystal guardspony up close before. He somehow managed to look regal in spite of being so dang sparkly. It might’ve been the color of his coat (was coat the right word for it? It looked a bit hard for that): that particular shade of purpley indigo was just the right tone to look a bit imposing. His tail and eyes were similarly shaded, casting him in a very-slightly haughty aura. It almost distracted Phalanx from the fact that the guard’s armor was embroidered. (It was quite subdued, but it was still embroidered armor.)

“Excuse me, Lieutenant,” Phalanx said, “but why are there so many guards here?”

The guard glanced at Phalanx and was turning back, opening his mouth to speak, when he did a double-take. He flinched a little, a small twitch from muzzle to tail, and took a moment to speak. “W-we’ve heard that some of the dragons around here are getting a bit, ehm, uppity. We’re just keeping watch over the station to be sure none of them come.” He turned back to watching the crowd. “Lieutenant Rampart Watch, by the way.”

Well. What to make of that? Well, not the dragons, but the other stuff. Why was this Rampart all twitchy at first? It wasn’t like Phalanx was high-ranking or particularly famous. (If only…) He didn’t even outrank Rampart. Was Rampart just the jumpy sort? …Yeah, most likely. Maybe he just got promoted and was still adjusting. Because what else could there be?

“Ah,” said Phalanx. “Didn’t hear that. But I’m from Canterlot, s-”

Rampart interrupted. “You wouldn’t, it’s pretty minor,” he said quickly. “This just in case.” After a brief pause, he twitched again. What was with him?

“Okay,” said Phalanx. “Thanks.” He headed back to the train; the mares had gotten caught up in the departure cram, but wiggled out by now.

“Y’wanna just go ahead and do it?” said Ida, brushing down her hair.

“Like I said, we need to find Amber as soon as possible,” said Phalanx. “Lead the way.”

For whatever reason, the fact that Kalahari’s mind kept coming back to was that the Crystal Palace was really really really tall. It simply… loomed over everything like some sort of watchtower and was visible pretty much everywhere in the Empire. Her gaze kept flitting up to it as she followed Chandra following Phalanx following Ida through the streets. She’d seen big buildings before, sure, but nothing quite so imposing as that. Quite the-

Ida said, “We’re here,” and an unobservant Kalahari plowed into Chandra.

“Sorry,” Kalahari mumbled to Chandra as she pulled herself up. “Wasn’t looking.”

“That’s fine,” said Chandra. She shook herself down. She turned the house and frowned. “So she’s in the one with all the blinds down?”

Kalahari blinked and looked at the… It wasn’t a house house, the way she usually thought of them. Townhouse? At the townhouse. Sure enough, every single window in the building had its shades drawn. But someone was home; there were lights on behind the shades.

“Uh… yeah,” said Ida. “But that ain’t like her…” She raised a hoof, paused, and tentatively knocked on the door.

Kalahari and Chandra exchanged glances. “What do you think’s up?” asked Kalahari.

Chandra stared at the townhouse. “I have no idea.”

Ida knocked again, louder.

“I mean,” Chandra continued, “I don’t know what those’re supposed to be doing. It looks like somepony’s trying too hard at making it look like nopony’s home, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“But then why’s the light on? She can’t be that stupid. Is she just scared or something?”

Knock knock. “Amber?” Ida called out. “You home? It’s Ida!”

“And scared of what?” Chandra turned to Phalanx. “What do you think?”

Phalanx was impassive. “I think we should refrain from making assumptions until we can t-”

The door cracked open, and everyone turned to face it. A quivering orange eye peeked out. “Ida?” somepony whispered.

“Amber, what’s going on?” asked Ida. “Why’s-”

The other pony cut her off. “What’re you doing here?” Her voice sounded a little panicked.

“Amber, I’m working with some investigators, and we want to talk about the Elemen-”

The door abruptly slammed shut, only to open wide a moment later. The pony Kalahari saw wasn’t pretty; she had bags under her eyes and her mane was frizzy and unkempt. Most alarmingly, her coat lacked the sheen of other Crystal Ponies. She glanced back and forth down the street. “Get inside. Quick, all of you.”

Ida took a step back in surprise. “Amber, wh-”

“Now,” hissed Amber. Her gaze skimmed the street again.

Ida glanced backward at the others, a befuddled I-don’t-know-what-the-hay-is-going-on look, and ran inside. Everypony else followed.

As soon as they were inside, Amber slammed the door shut, threw the chain, and breathed a sigh of relief. She glanced at the group in a way that seemed more like she was vaguely registering their presence then actually looking at them. “Just…” she mumbled, “just drop your stuff anywhere.” She waved a hoof vaguely around the room and sort of staggered into her living room, dropping into an armchair.

Ida quickly shrugged her bags off and followed her. “Amber, seriously, what in Equestria is going on? You’re jumpier’n a grasshopper on a trampoline. Why’s everything all…”

“W-well, i-it…” Amber paused. “You all should probably just take a seat.”

After Phalanx had managed to grab the other good chair in the room and Kalahari was crammed between Chandra and Ida on the couch, Amber took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Okay, now, you’re here to get a statement from me or whatever, right? About the Elements of Harmony?”

Phalanx nodded. “That’s correct, ma’am. You are currently the only strand of hard evidence that we have; everything else has turned up dead ends.”

“Call me Amber,” mumbled Amber. “Well, ah, the, um, uh, the thing is…” She glanced towards her drawn blinds and whispered, “I think the thieves are out to kill me.”

“A bit extreme,” said Kalahari, “don’t you think?”

“You didn’t see them,” said Amber. “They, they didn’t feel right. One of them got a good look at me and she made the throat-slice motion and she looked really nastily happy about it-” She began drawing her forelegs across her mane as if she was trying to straighten it. “-and it really felt like they would do it if they could and they can steal the Elements so they’re capable and the only reason they can’t is they don’t know where I live and I keep the blinds drawn so they can’t look in and reco-”

“So you think they want to kill you,” said Phalanx, cutting her off, “but they don’t know where you are.”

Amber froze, looked at the ground, and muttered, “Yeah.”

“But they know you’re a Crystal Pony, so they know you’re from-”

“The Crystal Empire’s a big place, you know,” said Kalahari. “It was bigger than Canterlot even before the suburbs started springing up a few decades ago, and covers an area of ab-”

She yelped as Chandra prodded her in the stomach. “We get it. Big place.”

“And it’ll take a while for them to find me,” said Amber, “and that’s assuming they can find me at all so if I just keep my blinds drawn then they can’t recognize me and can’t kill me and that’s good because I won’t die an-”

“Okay,” Phalanx cut in again, “but we need you to tell us what you know. If you don’t, th-”

“I know,” muttered Amber. She began stroking her mane again. “They’ll get away. But if I do then when you start investigating them they’ll know I told you and they’ll start looking for me even more and I might n-”

Her rambling abruptly ground to a halt and she froze mid-stroke. Looking Phalanx in the eye, she said, “Can you take me to Canterlot?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Take me to Canterlot. For protection. You stick me in a nice safe room with guards and then I tell you everything I know and then when they try to get me they can’t because I’m too secure and well-protected and-” She swallowed. “Well, yeah. That.”

Phalanx paused and turned to Chandra. “That’s not that bad an idea. Chandra, you’ve worked with the Princesses; do you think they’d accept this?”

“How am I supposed to know? I work in an astronomical context, not a criminal one. Still, this is pretty small, as far as witness protection goes, so…” Chandra shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Sure.”

Amber breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks. Thanks a lot.” She coughed. “So, so do you want my testimony now, or, or should we wait until we get to Canterlot?”

Phalanx glanced at Kalahari. “Well?”

“I think it can wait,” said Kalahari. “We’ll have better security, better facilities, better interviewers-”

“Better interviewers?” asked Chandra. She snorted a little. “You’re just asking questions. How hard can that be?”

“You need to know the right questions to ask,” responded Kalahari. “I can do it if we need to, but it’d be better if we had a trained questioner.”

“Alright,” said Phalanx, “so now we just need to know when the train leaves next. I’ll go to the st-”

“Next train to Canterlot leaves in like fifteen seconds,” said Amber, glancing at the clock. “So that’s no good and the next direct one doesn’t leave until 7 tomorrow morning but we can take a transfer through Ponyville in an hour or Fillydelphia in two and a half or Detrot in four if we really screw up and I don’t think we’ll be staying after that and Fillydelphia’s the fastest but not by a whole lot and we probably don’t want to wait that long.”

A strange silence fell over the room as everyone stared at Amber rattling off times like it was nothing. Amber shrank a little, her ears folded back. “What?” she half-squeaked.

“…You’ve memorized the train schedules?” asked Ida.

“Yeah. For the next week. In case I needed to get away quickly.” Amber giggled nervously. “It’s only paranoia if you’re wrong, you know.”

“Okaaay,” said Phalanx. “Let’s go with that.”

For a moment, no one spoke. Then Chandra said, “We’ve got two hours to kill. I’m going to get something fancy to drink. Anypony else want to get something fancy to drink? I’m going to get something fancy to drink.” She extricated herself from the couch.

“I’ll go,” said Kalahari. She dropped from the couch and rolled her shoulders. “Long day.”

Amber bit her lip and flicked her tail, her eyes flitting towards the window. After a moment’s hesitation, she said, “W-well, I kinda wanna… But, you know-”

“I’ll come with you, if that’ll make you feel better,” said Phalanx. “It’s what I’m here for, after all.”

Amber sighed with relief. “Thanks. Thanks.” Kalahari wasn’t sure, but it looked like Amber’s coat was regaining some shine. A good sign, assuming it was actually there.

“Well, I ain’t thirsty,” said Ida, “but I sure ain’t sitting here alone. I just hope there’s a nice place near here.”

“Oh, yeah,” said Amber, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, I know a place.”

Out in the open, sitting at a table with everypony else, Amber figured that not being in her house, if only for a few hours, was almost definitely for the best. Fresh air, not going over the same rug over and over and over and over, voices other than her own, and food that wasn’t canned. Maybe she’d been wrong about being so paranoid.

The Teal Trotter Tavern was one of the nicest dives in the Crystal Empire, with friendly waiters, shiny surfaces everywhere, generally decent musicians -- smooth jazz tonight -- and a quiet, laid-back atmosphere. Oh, but it was most definitely a dive; Amber knew half the ponies there personally and most of the other half by sight, and the menu selection was definitely something to sneeze at, barring the drinks. The only reason you went there was to chat with friends, drink, or chat with friends while drinking. The group was at a table halfway into the room; most of them were poring over the drinks menu, although Ida was looking semi-disinterestedly at the crowd.

“Ooo, lassi,” said Chandra from the other side of her menu.

“Hmm?” said Amber.

“They’ve got lassi,” said Chandra. She slid the menu to Amber and poked a hoof at it. “Not a lot of places in Equestria have lassi, which is a shame.”

Amber always knew what she wanted, so she didn’t look at the drinks menu a lot. Most of the names on there were completely foreign to her, and this was no different. “What’s lassi?”

Kalahari didn’t look up from her own menu. “Common Indeccanian drink. Made with water, yo-”

Chandra nudged Kalahari. “Come on. Let me explain it. It’s great,” she said to Amber. “It’s one of those things that manages to be sweet while also being healthy. Lots of fruit in it. It’s kind of like a smoothie, actually, but a bit thicker. And it’s easy to make, too, I sometimes make it myself at home.”

“Really? What’s it made out of?”

But she was interrupted, for at that moment, a smiling waitress walked up to them. “Hello, everypony! I’m Garnet and I’ll be your server tonight.” She nodded to Amber. “You’re looking a bit down. The usual?”

“Yeah,” said Amber, nodding back. “And just drinks tonight, thanks.”

“Great. And for everyone else?”

“Mango lassi,” said Chandra.

“Rock shandy,” said Kalahari.

“I’ll take a Lemon, Lime, and Bitters,” said Phalanx. “Hold the bitters.”

“Uh-huh,” said Garnet, nodding in turn. “Uh-huh. Uh-huh. And… nothing for you?” she said to Ida.

“Nah,” said Ida, shaking her head. “I ain’t that thirsty.”

“Alrighty then,” said Garnet. “Back in a sec.” She turned on a dime and headed towards the kitchen.

“Where was I with lassi?” Chandra asked, half to herself and half to Amber. “Right, making it. Anyway, it’s real simple, you just take water and yogurt and some fruit -- mango in this case -- and you…”

Amber nodded as Chandra kept talking. Lassi did sound good, but not tonight. Maybe later. And making it seemed pretty simple, so once the Elements were found and nopony was trying to kill her, she’d take a slow weekend and try to make some.

She jumped when someone lightly poked her, but it was just Phalanx. “Hey,” he whispered, “do you know where the restroom is?”

“Back there,” said Amber, pointing to one end of the room, “and take a right.”

“Thanks.” He left his seat and vanished into the crowd.

Chandra kept talking, not seeming to notice Phalanx’s departure; now she was on something called… doogh? Amber barely managed to suppress a giggle. Surrounded by… maybe not friends, but acquaintances, at the least, she was almost feeling normal again, like she was out with any other group of friends. After all that had gone wrong over the past few days, it was nice to have something that didn’t-

Some movement near the door happened to pull her gaze over and her eyes went wide.

It was the unicorn.

The unicorn thief from the boxcar was standing in the doorway, casually looking around the room. There was no way it was anypony else; same coat, same manecut, same cold violet eyes.

Amber’s heart went into overdrive. I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.

“I’m not here,” she hissed. She ducked under the table and began crawling along the floor, heading towards a wall, trying to stay below eye level. She’ll come in. Look for me. Can’t find me? Maybe get around her.

Of course, crawling wasn’t exactly a great way to stay inconspicuous in a crowded room, as evidenced when Iridescence from down the street ducked down to ask what, exactly, she was doing. Amber managed to stammer something out about a lost contact lens, even though they both knew she didn’t wear them. But Iridescence seemed a bit too confused to press the subject, and returned to her conversation.

Amber slowly stood up as much as she dared, trying to stay low. Luckily, happy hour was coming, and the Teal Trotter was filling up. As Amber hugged the wall, heading towards a corner, her spirits began to rise. Maybe… Just maybe…

Then she spotted another pony. Not one she recognized. But this pony had the same manecut as the unicorn.

Just like all the other thieves had. Same manecut. Same group.

Amber’s spirits hit the ceiling and began falling again.

Her edging became a little slower. The new pony didn’t seem to notice her, but she was still meandering through the crowds. She was still searching for her.

Her paranoia up again, Amber’s gaze flitted across the room, and her spirits entered a nosedive. There were more of them. Two or three at least. Spread out to make it harder for her to get by them. Definitely looking for her.

I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead.

But as she kept looking and took another step towards the corner, she realized she couldn’t see the unic-

“Heeeellooooooo…”

Amber bumped into somepony, and that somepony’s singsongy voice made her blood ran cold.

Slowly, she turned and found herself face-to-face with the unicorn, smiling far too broadly. There wasn’t anything specific, but something about her expression just made Amber’s skin crawl. She didn’t look much better up close; her coat was still a sickly, pale yellow, her mane still white-gray.

Her eyes still so dark they were almost black.

“Hey there,” said the unicorn, still grinning.

“Hi,” squeaked Amber. She tried to take a step back, but bumped into another pony, who pushed her forward again.

“Been a while since I saw you last. How you been doing?” Another pony came in from the side, completely boxing Amber in.

“I’ve been better,” whispered Amber, shrinking towards the ground.

The unicorn laughed softly. “You know, let’s cut the crap. There are two ways we can go about this. You can come with us quietly and willingly after you realize there’s no way you’re getting out of this, or you can come with us quietly and unwillingly after I seal your mouth shut.” A few beads of light ran down her horn. “Oh,” she added nonchalantly, “and I’ll notice if you try to start yelling now. You need deep breaths, you know, and you’re hyperventilating so much you sound like a sputtering motor. So…” She leaned in close, her muzzle touching Amber’s. Her mouth pulled back the last few millimeters to make her grin truly nasty. “What’s it gonna be, honey?”

Amber swallowed. Trapped near the wall, it was unlikely anypony would be looking in her direction and notice her problem. She had nowhere to go. Nowhere to run. Nopony to call on. Nothing she could do.

I’m dead.

Truth be told, Ida hadn’t actually gone to the Teal Trotter because otherwise she’d be alone (well, not entirely); she’d gone because she wanted to keep an eye on Amber. She was the nervous type, sure, but this? She’d never been this bad. Even after she agreed to go to the Teal Trotter, she still looked a bit jumpy.

Ida looked out vaguely over the crowd, always keeping Amber at least in her peripheral vision. Amber probably wouldn’t like it if she knew Ida was always watching her. Best to keep a low profile and look disinterested, the person who wasn’t really involved in conversations. She stopped being disconnected when a waitress took their orders, but went right back to it once she was gone.

For a while, it looked like it was working. Amber was relaxing a bit, not shaking as much. She wasn’t babbling out her sentences. She was even a bit chatty with the rest of the group; Ida hadn’t known Amber to be so talkative, so this was a good sign.

Then Amber whispered, “I’m not here,” and ducked under the table.

Ida ducked after her and whispered, “Wait a sec!” But Amber was already gone, crawling along the floor and below other tables.

Ida pulled back up and glanced at everypony else in the group. The looks on their faces were just as much “what the hay just happened” ones as Ida presumed was on hers.

She opened her mouth to say something, but Garnet returned with their drinks. She paused. “I saw the guard leave, but where’s Amber?”

“She had to, uh,” said Ida, “she also had to go to the little filly’s room all of a sudden.”

“Ah.” Garnet slid them each their drinks, leaving Amber’s orange juice in front of her empty seat. “Let me know if you need anything more, alright? Alright.” She left, heading for her next table.

“Where’d she go?” asked Chandra. “I didn’t catch it.”

“She’s- There she is,” said Kalahari, pointing. Over by that wall.”

Everypony looked. Amber was surrounded by three ponies and looked terrified.

“Wait… Are those the thieves?” said Ida, frowning. “How’d they know we were here?”

“I don’t know,” said Chandra. She began looking around. “I don’t see Phalanx,” she said nervously. “Should I go get him?”

“Yeah,” said Ida, still staring at Amber and the thieves. “That’d be good.” Her voice was flat; she wasn’t sure what to do. Even if they got Phalanx, it might be too late. If only she knew some way to stall them…

But as Chandra left, something clicked in Ida. She looked at the thieves and the space between them. It was pretty clear. She looked down at Amber’s glass. It was about the same size as an apple…

“When they turn to look over here,” Ida muttered to Kalahari, “look terrified and point at me.”

“What?”

But Ida wasn’t listening. She stepped away from the table and moved the glass a little for better aim. Then she whirled around and hit the glass with a buck.

The glass sailed gracefully through the air, trailing orange juice behind it. It smashed into the head of one of the thieves and shattered, drenching her with juice. She whirled towards their table, murder in her eyes. After an instant’s pause, Kalahari scooched away from Ida, pointing a quivering hoof at her.

“‘Ey!” yelled Ida, slurring her words. “Wha’ d’y’thin’ yuh’re doin’ t’my frien’?” She began walking a swaying walk towards the unicorn.

The unicorn’s composure slipped for a moment and she blinked in surprise. Then her look became one of annoyance. “Look, sweetie,” she said, “it’s a personal matter. So why don’t you trot on back to your drink and let us sort this out, aight?” She shook her head, trying to get some of the orange juice off.

“Pers’nal?” said Ida loudly as she continued to approach the unicorn. Other ponies in the room were turning to look at the commotion. “Don’ loo’ like ‘t. ‘Oo’re you, anyway?”

One of the other thieves, a pegasus, leaned over to the unicorn. “Rhea,” she whispered, “you need to get rid of her now.”

The unicorn -- Rhea? -- brushed her away. “We are colleagues of your friend’s,” she said to Ida. She leaned close to Ida, her teeth clenched. “It. Would be best. If you. Left. Now.”

Ida blinked in feigned confusion. “Bu’ why? Yuh don’ loo’ li’ yuh’re doin’ anythin’ good. Loo’ at ’er.” All right, come on, come on, hit me.

Rhea lightly planted a hoof on Ida’s chest and pushed her away. “I do not think that is any of your concern. If y-”

“C’mooon, jus’ tell me!” said Ida, walking back up to Rhea. “I’ can’ be tha’ bad.”

Rhea started snarling and slapped Ida across the face. “Listen, honey, if you kn-”

But she didn’t get any further, as a mare decided to crash-tackle her into a wall, yelling something about not hitting people. She looked about as unsteady as Ida. Genuinely so, though. Pinning Rhea between her and the wall, she headbutted her, only to get yanked off by one of the other thieves. Then a stallion jumped on the thief, one thing led to another, and things got loud as several more drunken ponies began piling on.

Just as Ida had hoped. Amber knew the ponies here, right? So she was probably friends with them. And no one had stepped forward to defend her because nopony had noticed anything. But if they saw she was surrounded, and saw proof that the thieves were Not Nice (i.e., her aggressors slapping somepony trying to defend her), then they’d probably want to protect her. Particularly if they were drunk and not thinking about how it wasn’t their problem. Which, given this was a bar, was rather likely.

Ida was actually surprised at how well it had gone.

Amber hadn’t moved from her spot on the floor. The thieves’ attention diverted for the moment by various hooves to the face, Ida jabbed her in the ribs. “Hey,” she hissed, “come on.”

Amber blinked and looked around her. “That would probably be good, yes.” She abruptly shot out from the melee and was out the door before Ida could react.

“Hey, wait!” Ida yelled, far too late to do anything about it. She ran back to Kalahari.

“What did you do?” whispered Kalahari, caught somewhere between shock and awe.

“Stalled,” said Ida. She glanced towards the bathrooms. “Where’s-”

And then her question was answered as Chandra and Phalanx came into view. Upon seeing the fight, Chandra’s jaw dropped and Phalanx’s eyes widened a little. Both pairs of ponies headed towards each other, meeting halfway.

Phalanx’s head snapped to the fight, then back to Ida. “There is a bar fight going on. Why is there a bar fight going on.” His voice was flat. Then he blinked and craned his neck. “And where’s Amber?”

“She saw the thieves-”

Phalanx blanched. “What?”

“-and she tried to get away, but they cornered her, so I played drunk and got one to hit me so somepony else would hit them.” Ida blinked. “And now that all sounds real dangerous and stupid.”

“If it’s stupid but it works,” said Phalanx, “it isn’t stupid. But where’s Amber?”

“At her house, I think. Come on.” The group ran out of the bar, leaving the still-ongoing fight behind them.

9 - After-Action Report

Vanguard couldn’t stop thinking about the attempt on Celestia’s life, even as he went through the motions of his normal daily routine. It was just so… odd. The castle’s floor plans weren’t public knowledge, but the group had beelined straight for Celestia’s rooms. They had that paralytic gas, but were trying to use something else on Celestia. Why? Did they not have enough of the second stuff? And that one pony was so confident that, once they’d jammed that hose through the door, everything on her side was fine, but Celestia seemed to be doing all right, from what he’d heard. Questions, questions.

The worst part about it was not being able to do anything; everything was involved in the hooves of somepony else, and Vanguard was stuck waiting for them to get back to him. He hadn’t gotten to be Captain of the Guard by sitting around on his rump all day; he liked to do stuff.

So that evening, when he heard that some results were coming in regarding the paralytic, he jumped at the chance to actually go and hear it personally. He could send someone else, obviously, but then he’d be waiting some more.

The crime labs were busier than usual, but there was still plenty of space for Vanguard to weave through. A dark purple Earth stallion was standing outside the room he’d been sent to. The stallion nodded at him. “Dupinto. I’m the detective assigned to this case.”

The name was a bit familiar to Vanguard, but he couldn’t place it. Oh, well. “Captain Dauntless Vanguard. I helped stop the attack last night.” Then the name came to him. “Weren’t you assigned to the Elements of Harmony case?”

“We think there might be a link between that and this. They’re just too big and happening too close together to be coincidence.” Dupinto sighed. “Which is good, because, let me t-”

The lab door opened and a mop-haired assistant poked his head out. “Tyndall’s ready when you are,” he said.

Vanguard and Dupinto entered the lab. It was that cold, white, sterile feeling of labs everywhere (which meant it was properly maintained, but Vanguard still hated it), and every tabletop was almost completely filled with either equipment or papers or both. A few assistants were wrapping things up for the night. Tyndall was standing in a corner, magically suspending a liquid-filled test tube in front of a light and slowly turning it back and forth.

Doctor Tyndall was a unicorn, and smart enough to be both a chemist and an alchemist -- although she’d probably say the proper term was “arcanoherbalist” or something, as she’d given up on turning lead into gold a while back and had a thing for using proper terms. Everyone had tried to persuade her that the term “alchemy” had considerably broadened since the first experiments, and everyone had failed. But she was good at her job, and that was what counted.

“Yello,” she said to Vanguard and Dupinto without looking at them. She frowned and tapped the test tube. “Hmm.” She put the tube away and began levitating a clipboard as she turned to the pair. “So, sirs, here’s what I got on that gas.

“First, Captain, you’ll be relieved to hear that all of your stallions should make a full recovery by tomorrow.” As Vanguard breathed out a sigh of relief, Tyndall continued, “Some, in fact, already have. Based on our analysis, the paralytic has no side effects -- physical, magical, or otherwise -- which may actually be a help in your investigation, Detective.”

She began flipping through the papers on her clipboard. “See, the main component of the gas, a plant called the atropia, is sometimes used as an anesthetic for precisely this reason. But the atropia doesn’t grow well in most climes. It requires lots and I mean lots of water, so it’s generally only grown near seas or lakes, especially at…” Tyndall stopped flipping, frowned at her clipboard, and tapped a line on the paper. “…at seaweed or kelp farms, and there aren’t a lot of those in Equestria.”

Dupinto nodded. “I don’t suppose you could tell whether it was grown in salt- or freshwater?”

“Unfortunately, no,” said Tyndall, shaking her head. “This stuff was very concentrated. Any traces of salinity were ironed out in the process. And the atropia grows equally well in both environments.”

“So look at seafood farms,” said Dupinto. He said it distantly, like he was saying it to himself and thinking of something at the same time.

“Do you have anything on the stuff used on Celestia?” asked Vanguard.

Tyndall flicked her ears and cocked her head. “Yes… and no. We didn’t have any gas to analyze, so nothing there, but… you know that big bulb they had on top of it? The inside was layered with magic. Strong magic. It was meant to keep something in. Some kind of spell. I think the gas was just the medium to transmit the spell, rather than anything picked for its own character. And we don’t know what kind of spell it was. Celestia needs to be checked out ASAP.”

And yet another pony was talking about that. Hopefully Celestia wouldn’t brush it off like she did last night.

“But aside from that…” Tyndall shrugged. “That’s all I got. Sorry it’s so little.”

“It’s enough,” said Vanguard. Of course, enough was hardly preferred, but he’d take what he could get, especially since his stallions would be okay. “Thanks.”

Dupinto blinked out of his fugue, and said, “Yeah, that, that should be good. Hmm.”

Outside the lab, Vanguard raised an eyebrow at Dupinto. “What’s up?”

Dupinto waved a hoof noncommittally. “Oh, it’s nothing, just thinking of possible leads. Start with kelp or seaweed farms, cross-reference them wi-”

A courier slid to a halt in front of them. “Convenient,” she said breathlessly. “Sirs.” She shoved a scroll at each of them and was gone.

Dupinto looked at his scroll, then at Vanguard. “Ten bits says it’s related to last night. For both of us.”

“Not taking that,” said Vanguard, opening the message, “because that’s what I was going to say.” He read a few lines from the scroll, and… “Bingo. There’s an interrogation of their leader in about two hours, and Luna wants us both to attend.” He frowned. Just Luna? Not Celestia?

“Two hours?” Dupinto tapped his chin. “Should be time,” he muttered.

“For what?”

Dupinto began trotting down the hall. “I want to check something out,” he called out over his shoulder. “Evidence, maybe. Long shot, but I got nothing better to do. Feel free to tag along.”

Vanguard thought about it, but only for a second. He set off after Dupinto.

He began having second thoughts when they wound up in front of a place called “Party Planning Potpourri”.

“Really?” Vanguard asked Dupinto.

“I know, I know,” said Dupinto. “But I know Misty Draft. She might be able to identify the smoke machine from its serial number.”

“The place closed more than half an hour ago. She might not be here.”

“She likes to work late and get the floors really clean.”

“It’s a party store.”

“It’s one of the best party stores in Canterlot and a prime source of smoke machines.”

Vanguard rolled his eyes. “This better be worth it.”

“I hope it is.” Dupinto rapped his hoof on the door a few times.

A few seconds later, a harsh voice screeched out, “We’re closed!” Vanguard stuffed his hooves in his ears.

“Uh, hey, Mist?” said Dupinto. “It’s me, Dupinto. I have a question, if you have the time.”

A pair of eyes peeked out from behind the CLOSED sign, then pulled back as the door opened. A somewhat aged Earth mare stood in front of them. She was a soft, pale blue with a gray mane and tail, and smiling broadly. “Sorry,” she said in a much sweeter voice. “But the last few days have been bad about ponies trying to get in after hours.” She looked over Dupinto’s shoulder at Vanguard. “And you?”

“Captain Dauntless Vanguard, ma’am,” said Vanguard.

Misty blinked and her smile was gone. “Is this about this morning? About Celestia? Beca-”

Dupinto silenced her with a wave of a hoof. “You worry too much. Look, it’s nothing about you, I’m just hoping you can help us a bit.”

Misty nodded. “Alrighty. Come inside, why don’t you?”

Inside was the usual assortment of party gear Vanguard was expecting, although there seemed to be an awful lot of pink. Misty sat down behind the counter. “So, what is it you got?”

“Last night,” said Dupinto, “the invasion of Canterlot Castle involved a fog machine as an improvised gas dispenser, and I was just wondering if you were familiar with the serial number.” He pulled out a sheaf of papers; the evidence file, Vanguard supposed. Dupinto began reading from it. “FD7-”

“Gimme.” Misty yanked the papers away and looked at the serial number herself. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Yeah, I think I know that. Just hang on.” She pulled out an item catalog and flipped through it. Stopping on a page, she nodded after a moment and put the catalog away. “Yeah, that’s one of our more expensive fog machines. Very versatile, but not a lot of demand for it. Mostly Penny Pincher.”

Vanguard twitched at the mention of the Royal Treasurer. “Whoa, whoa, you’re just volunteering that? Isn’t there some kind of confidentiality in this?”

Misty snorted. “Normally, yes, but if he wants confidentiality, he can stop trying to haggle the price down when it’s already half off. He owns his own nightclub, he doesn’t need to save a few bits on a single fog machine.”

Yeah, that sounded like Penny Pincher, all right.

“Exactly how little demand for this machine is there?” asked Dupinto. His ears were perking up a little. “Or have you had any thefts?”

“No thefts,” said Misty, “and there’s only been a few sales of this in the past year. Five or… No, six. Yeah, six. And half those? Penny Pincher.”

“Do you have your sales records?”

“Not on me, and it’ll take a little while to get through all them and find the orders you want. A few days at least, but they’re yours once I find them. And I’ll let you know if someone orders one soon; maybe they had it stolen and need it replaced.”

Dupinto grinned. “Perfect. Thanks, Misty. This was a big help.”

“Anytime. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” She shifted back to her harsh voice. “Get outta my store! We’re closed!”

Dupinto was still grinning when they were outside. “Ha. See? It was worth it.”

“We don’t have anything new.”

“Not yet. But in a few days, or a week, we’ll have some more leads. And just think!” Dupinto’s expression became downright dreamy. “We might just pin this on Penny Pincher. Getting him fired because he supported a coup. Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

“It would,” admitted Vanguard, “but, really, how likely do you think that is?”

“Stop ruining my dream!”

They were still arguing about it as they made their way to the interrogation room. But that stopped as they got closer; even some distance away, they heard something they’d never heard before.

Celestia and Luna yelling at each other.

The Princesses didn’t agree 100% of the time, obviously. That was nearly impossible for any two ponies. And they didn’t try to hide that fact; there was generally one day in any given year when Vanguard could walk past Celestia and Luna arguing, they’d notice him, acknowledge him in some way, and then go right back to arguing. But they’d always kept things low-key, civil. There were raised voices, but never yells. It never sounded like they were going for each other’s throats.

Until now.

“For the last time, Luna,” yelled Celestia, “we do not need to follow this any farther! I am Princess, and-”

“As am I!” Luna snapped back. “Time and time again I have heard your reasoning, and time and time again it sounds absurd!”

Vanguard and Dupinto looked at each other and kept moving in a nervous silence. Outside the interrogation room, a small cluster of ponies was gathered, staring at the two princesses while keeping well away from both of them. For their part, Celestia and Luna were glaring at each other so fiercely Vanguard could swear he heard the air crackling.

“You keep saying we shouldn’t worry the citizens,” Luna continued, “but they know about last night! How could they not? You simply dropping the matter is not doing them any favors!”

“In what way?” snapped Celestia. “When they see that I’m not worried about this-”

“There is a difference,” said Luna, “between not worried and apathetic. Not worried is, at the very least, taking steps to find who did this, forgiving them, and dropping the matter with no hard feelings. Apathetic-” Her voice began echoing. “-is not doing a single thing after an attempt on your life! You are more than just a ruler of Equestria, you are also a symbol of it. Your actions are the nation’s actions, and yet your idea of ‘protecting’ the people is to simply sweep big problems under the rug?”

Celestia laughed bitterly. “Hardly. You never were one for subtlety, an-”

Anyone could see that it was at that precise moment Luna snapped. Not in an explosion way, more an angry-resignation way. Vanguard knew why: anyone who said Luna lacked subtlety hadn’t properly seen the night sky. Luna may have been more… flamboyant than Celestia, but she took great pride in filling the night sky with more nuance than you could shake a stick at.

“If that is how you see it,” said Luna. Her voice had dropped in volume, but it was hard to miss the contempt dripping from her words. “But I must attend to the dusk. I acquiesce to you and take my leave. Good. Night.” She strode through the crowd, which parted for her like water parts around a rock, and flicked her tail at Celestia.

Celestia snorted, then turned to the crowd. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice falsely cheery, “but is Detective Dupinto in there, by any chance?”

Vanguard and Dupinto looked at each other, and Dupinto was visibly shaking. “Wish me luck,” he mumbled to Vanguard, then pushed his way through the crowd. “Here, Your Grace,” he called out.

“Good. In case you missed the bulk of that discussion-” (Vanguard thought “battleground” would be more apt.) “-I have decided to halt all investigation into last night’s invasion. I don’t want the populace to think I am nervous because of a failed attempt on my life, and so I don’t want to waste anypony’s time investigating something that is of no consequence.”

There was silence in the room for a few seconds as Dupinto waited for some additional explanation, something more concrete. But none was forthcoming. Luna was right. That was a load of fertilizer. But Dupinto just said, “Understood, Princess.”

“I understand you have a copy of the case file. May I see it?”

“Right here, ma’am.” Dupinto produced the file, then yelped and jumped back as it caught fire in his hoof. Within seconds, all information on the case had been burned to ash.

“There’s no need for a case file if there’s no case,” said Celestia. “Dismissed.” She went through her own parting in the ground and was gone.

For maybe ten seconds, you could hear a pin drop. Then everypony started talking at once and mumbling under their breath. No one liked being here, but no one seemed to want to leave.

Dupinto forced his way back through the crowd to Vanguard. “Is just me,” he asked, “or is that the biggest load of crap you’ve ever heard?”

“It’s the biggest load of crap I’ve ever heard.”

“Good.” Dupinto groaned and ran a hoof through his mane. “This is… I don’t know. Stupid. Crazy. Both.”

“Not just both,” muttered Vanguard. “Something big is up. This isn’t like Celestia.”

“Ya think?” hissed Dupinto. “I honestly thought she might kill me. That’s…” He shuddered. “That is messed up.”

“Yeah.” What else was there to say?

“Any ideas on how to continue the investigation?” Dupinto asked. Then he twitched and added, “I-I mean, if you, y’know, want to, I- hardly want t-”

“Something’s wrong with Celestia,” said Vanguard, nodding. “She wouldn’t stop this if she were sane. What leads do we have?”

“There’s not much, just that atropis plant, the fog machine we’re waiting for, and the prisoners.”

“Kelp and seaweed farms,” said Vanguard. “For th-”

Dupinto groaned. “I wish. I can look them up, but without royal approval, there isn’t much else I can do, and I’ll have to do it on my spare time.”

“And we can’t do anything about the fog machine just yet.” Vanguard’s spirits were sinking even further than they already had been. “And the prisoners will probably be kept away, with no one allowed to talk to them at all.”

“Probably,” said Dupinto, nodding glumly. “Even though the whole thing’s supposed to be closed.” He looked at Vanguard with wide, pleading eyes. “Please. Can you think of anything, anything else?”

Vanguard opened his mouth, ready to say something. But nothing came out. Dupinto didn’t even look that confident, simply staring blankly at Vanguard. Wheels churned and their minds worked, but nothing came out.

Eventually, Vanguard admitted, “No.”

“Me neither.”

“So unless one of is about to get a brilliant idea on our hooves, we’re stuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Great. Just great.”

10 - The Importance of Being Butterflies

Chandra was not happy. Not. One. Bit.

She was tripping over roots and fallen logs, clambering and falling over large rocks and small hills, squirming past and through the occasional thorny bush, getting repeatedly smacked by branches that were in the way, and barely seeing more than twenty feet in front of her even with her light, thanks to the gathering gloom. Even if they found the world’s greatest place to sleep, she’d probably wake up tomorrow with all sorts of aches.

Of course, she only had herself to blame. She was the one who’d volunteered to go out hunting for… someplace useful. But that didn’t change the fact that getting through the forest was a lot harder than she had anticipated. It wasn’t like there was a path or anything she could follow to make her way easier; she just had to rough it over irregular, unkempt terrain that looked like blown-up sandpaper.

Chandra paused for a moment to place her horn against a tree. After a moment, a ball of light grew from the tip and hung there, motionless. She glanced over her shoulder. The other lights she’d placed were still glowing brightly enough that she could follow them back to the river.

As she stumbled across another rock, Chandra had to admit she was secretly dreading heading back to the river. The chances of them finding anything out here were far slimmer than she had admitted. There was probably nothing for miles besides the train tracks, and no one knew when the next train would come by. Well, maybe Amber might, what with her paranoia, but that was slim. And even then, you simply couldn’t stop a train quickly; it’d far overshoot them by the time it made it to a halt. If the engineer even saw them.

And as for anything else… well, what was there out here? Not much. Too far into the forest for timber. And that was pretty much the only thing that came to Chandra’s mind; they were just so isolated.

Still, a slim chance was better than a nonexistent chance, Chandra acknowledged to herself as she came to stop in a tiny clearing. There could be a crazy old hermit with a place to stay. Or some ruins that might provide some shelter. Or a mining company that was after some sort of rare metal.

Pfft. Yeah, right. And maybe help would fall from the sky.

“Hey there.”

Chandra jumped about a foot in the air and fell to the ground with her legs in a jumble, her light going out. As she picked herself up, she began looking around the forest. With the sun almost completely set, it was hard to see anything, but mayb-

“Up here.”

Pulling enough magic into her to conjure some more light, Chandra looked up. On a branch above her sat a pegasus vigorously pumping her wings. She was a kind of semi-pale, cyan-y blue, with violet eyes. Her mane and tail were long, poofy, and messy, almost like she had just been flying, their colors layered into two distinct halves of white and light green. Chandra couldn’t get a good look at her cutie mark. And then she noticed something else: the pegasus wasn’t sitting on the branch, but hanging off of it, her forelegs hooked around it. Odd. Her hooves had a rather absurd amount of feathering, the hairs just as tangled as her mane.

Neither of them said anything for a moment. Then the pegasus repeated, “Hey there.”

And how am I supposed to respond to that? Eventually, Chandra went with, “Hey there.”

The pegasus cocked her head. “You’re lost, ain’tcha?”

“What makes you say that?” asked Chandra. Amber had said that there weren’t a lot of ponies living out here, but maybe they were closer to civilization than she had thought. Maybe she could get some answers without revealing why they were out here, which would raise a bunch of awkward questions.

The pegasus cocked her head the other way. “Well, gee,” she said. “Maybe it’s because the train’s pretty much the only pony-made thing for loads of miles?”

Welp. So much for that.

“I’ve been all over these woods,” continued the pegasus, “and nopony else’s moved near here since ever. There’s no cool landmarks or anything that you couldn’t find easier somewhere else. You got no reason to be out here. Unless, of course, you’re lost. Probably from the river or the train. So: you’re lost, ain’tcha?” All the time, she kept beating her wings.

“Maybe,” said Chandra semi-defensively. “What’re you doing out here?”

“Butterflying.”

Chandra waited a few seconds, but the pegasus didn’t continue. Evidently, that explained nearly everything in her eyes. “I see,” she said, convincing nopony. “And you’re hanging onto the branch like that because…?”

“Because butterflying is easier like this.” A smile seemed to be inching its way onto the pegasus’s lips.

“I see,” said Chandra, still convincing nopony. “And butterflying is important, is it?”

“Undoubtedly,” said the pegasus. “It’s unequivocally one of the most important and prestigious yet underrated positions in all of Equestria, me hanging off of this branch and flapping my wings in one place all day.” Her face was straight enough that it was hard to tell whether she was being sarcastic or not; the smile had been kicked out.

“I… see,” said Chandra, hat-tricking her convincing-nopony streak. She tried thinking about whether or not the pegasus could’ve been kidding and just got confused.

Silence reigned for another few seconds. Then the pegasus giggled and folded her wings. “You should see the look on your face,” she said, jumping down. “It’s like…” She held her hooves in front of her face, like she was framing a camera shot. “…perfect.”

“Greeeaaat,” said Chandra flatly.

“Name’s Galeblazer,” said the pegasus. Now that the pegasus… Now that Galeblazer was down from the branch, Chandra could see her cutie mark: three tight spirals. Probably something to do with wind. “So, what are you doing here?”

“Well…” Chandra rubbed the back of her neck, and decided to just spit it out. “We’re lost.”

“We.” It wasn’t a question, just an observation.

“Yeah, some… colleagues of mine-” That was the best way to put it. “-are down by the river.” She nodded down the path. “One’s hurt a leg. Not bad, but it’s hard for him to walk in the forest at night.”

Galeblazer was frowning as she listened. It was the thoughtful sort of frown, though. When Chandra was done, she said, “How many, and where are the rest of you?”

“Five, including myself,” said Chandra. Is she taking us in or something? “And we’re at a sort of… zigzag in the river.” She wished she’d gotten a better look at the surrounding area. “Part of it’s a long, wide bend, where the trees don’t grow so cl-”

“Great big rock on the inside of the curve?” cut in Galeblazer. “Just out of sight of the train bridge? Lots of branches sticking up out of the river like a half-built beaver dam?”

Chandra stopped talking, her mouth still open. She paused, closing her mouth as she tried to remember their landing spot. “Y-yeah,” she said, surprised. “You really do know the land, don’t you?”

“Been here a while,” said Galeblazer vaguely. “So, tell you what.” She began hovering just off the ground. “I’ll get some pals of mine, take care of you guys for the night. You can be on your way tomorrow. Deal?”

Don’t think anyone else’ll mind. It’s better than what we thought we had. “Deal,” said Chandra. Before Galeblazer could fly off, she added, “But just a moment. What do you mean, ‘butterflying’?”

Galeblazer grinned. “You know the old saw about butterflies and hurricanes? I’m a butterfly.”

With that, she took off, leaving Chandra no less confused than before.

Kalahari pulled on the vine, tightening Phalanx’s makeshift bandage. He sucked in a breath and softly groaned through clenched teeth, beating his wings.

“Sorry,” said Kalahari quickly, letting the vine drop out of her mouth. “Is i-”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been through worse,” muttered Phalanx. He glanced at his leg and flexed it a little, wincing. “Maybe if I keep this straight…” He pushed himself up on his good legs. He took a few awkward steps, keeping his bad leg elevated. Then, hesitantly, Phalanx put weight on his bad leg. He let off a sort of muted scream and dropped to the ground again.

Kalahari was at his side immediately. “That bad?” she asked quietly.

“Ow,” Phalanx hissed. “Ow ow ow.” He stood up again. “I can manage if I need to,” he said, breathing deeply, “but I don’t want to do it n-”

“Hey!”

Kalahari and Phalanx looked up. Ida was trotting out of the forest, a chunk of tree bark in her teeth. She dropped it in front of Phalanx, inside up. “Lick that there.”

Phalanx looked down at the bark just in time to see a bug crawl across it. He looked up and gave Ida his best “you have got to be kidding me” look. After several years of teaching pikeponyship, he was quite good at them.

“It’s willow,” said Ida. A little nervously; Phalanx’s look had gotten to her a bit. “It’s got stuff in there that’s, like, natural painkillers or something. Seriously, it works.”

“She’s right, actually,” said Kalahari. “See, willow produces this chemical, salicylic acid, that blocks nerves from sending pain signals. It’s the primary ingredient in-”

“Fine,” grunted Phalanx. “Whatever.” Giving the bark one last skeptical look, he bent down and dragged his tongue across the bark. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on your outlook), it was relatively tasteless, so he didn’t have to suffer anything nauseating. Just bits of wood coming off the bark, getting caught in his teeth, and the occasional bug skittering across his tongue. Yech.

“It was originally used by some buffalo tribes as medicine,” rambled Kalahari. “First came to Equestrian attention wh-”

Phalanx stuffed a hoof in Kalahari’s mouth. “We get it,” he said flatly. “Can you be quiet now?”

Kalahari soundlessly nodded.

Phalanx pulled his hoof away. “Sorry,” he muttered, “but… with this…” He held out his leg as best he could. “…I’m a bit short-tempered.”

“That’s all right,” said Kalahari, waving a hoof. “I should learn to shut up more, anyway.”

“Right,” said Phalanx. He glanced down at the river. Amber was still trotting back and forth down there. “Could someone go and check on her?” He gave the bark another dubious look and licked it again.

“I’ll do it,” said Kalahari. She stood up and awkwardly shuffled down the slope to the shore of the water.

Amber had definitely been at it a while; she was beginning to flatten a strip where she kept walking back and forth. It wasn’t much, but it was still noticeable. She was also, Kalahari noticed, muttering to herself under her breath. “Stuck out here, no way to get back, night falling…”

Kalahari cleared her throat. “Um, hey? Amber?”

Amber didn’t notice. “All my fault, they’ll blame me for it…”

“Hey. Amber.”

“Can’t exactly blame them for it, if not f-”

“Amber!”

Amber yelped and tripped over herself, sprawling face-first on the ground. She pulled herself up and spat a clod of dirt out of her mouth. “Oh, hey,” she said to Kalahari. She was shaking a little. “What’s up?” She smiled a smile that couldn’t have been less convincing if it had been drawn on a sheet of paper and taped over her mouth.

“Just checking up on you,” said Kalahari. “You doing all right?”

“Heh. All right? Of course I’m all right. Totally all right. Why wouldn’t I be all right?” said Amber. She was talking rather quickly. “I mean, it’s not like I dragged you all into some criminal conspiracy and got you stranded in the middle of nowhere with night closing in and one of us with an injury that leaves him practically unable to walk and nowwe’re all going to die and it’s all my fault.” She giggled shrilly. “Yeah. Nothing like that. Why do you ask?”

Kalahari sighed. “Amber, look, just- calm down, okay? It’s not that bad.”

“Oh, really?” asked Amber. She began trying to smooth her hair with a foreleg. “And why is that? I suppose we’re not going to die?”

“Of course not,” snapped Kalahari. She flinched almost immediately; that was a bit harsh. “No, we’re not going to die,” she repeated, this time more softly. “Why would you say that? We can sleep here if we absolutely need to, although…” She glanced around the darkened river. “I’d prefer not to.”

“It’s going to get cold,” said Amber tentatively.

“Not that cold,” said Kalahari. “We’ll live through it. Uncomfortable? Yes. But we’ll be fine.”

“And Phalanx?” asked Amber, jerking her head up the hill. “He can’t walk out the forest in the shape he’s in.” She was calming down a bit.

“He can fly,” said Kalahari. “He just didn’t want to tonight because it was too dark.”

Amber slapped a hoof to her face. “Right,” she muttered, dragging it down. “So we’ll be fine. Not comfortable, but fine. That’s… not that bad, I guess.” She frowned. “Chandra’s not back yet, though. I suppose it’d be a bit much to ask for her to come back soon, just so we know she’s safe.”

At that moment, a light began flickering in the trees, growing brighter by the second. Soon, Chandra walked out of the forest towards Ida and Phalanx. She was saying something to them, but Kalahari couldn’t make out what it was.

“Huh,” said Amber. She paused. “I suppose it’d also be a bit much for a pony to fall from the sky and announce that they’ve got a good place to stay?”

Against the final orange of the sunset, a winged silhouette shot out from above the trees. The pony did a few loops of the area and dropped down between Kalahari’s group and Phalanx’s group, a broad grin on her face. “Hey there,” she said, remarkably chipper, “I hear you need a place to stay for the night? I got one.” She looked familiar, but Kalahari couldn’t say why, exactly.

“She really can, you know,” Chandra called down to Kalahari and Amber. “She’s safe.”

Kalahari and Amber exchanged significant glances. Amber bit her lip, but Kalahari could tell what she was thinking and nodded.

“I suppose,” Amber said slowly, “it’d also be a bit much for two more pegasi to appear with a stretcher for Phalanx?”

“And don’t worry about your friend,” said the pegasus, taking off again. “We’ve got him covered.” She waved to someone in the distance and came back down. Two more pegasi came over the trees, carrying something between them. Sure enough, it was a stretcher. They landed right next to Phalanx.

As Phalanx began talking with the pegasi, Kalahari glanced at Amber. Her look was one of sheer confusion and not knowing how to react, complete with a twitchy eye. But soon, the high spirits of the moment overcame her, and she giggled. “I suppose it’d also be a bit much for them to pay us?” she said to Kalahari, grinning.

“And today’s your lucky day!” the pegasus, trotting over to them. She looked even more familiar up close, but Kalahari still couldn’t place her. “We won the lottery just a few days ago, and we were going to split it between us, but now that you’re here, you’ll all get a piece, too!” She smiled broadly.

Amber’s jaw dropped. “Wha… buh… huh…” After a moment, she pulled her brain back together and squinted at the pegasus, her ears slightly back. “You’re kidding, right?”

The pegasus snorted. “Of course. It was too good a chance to pass up. Did you see the look on your face?”

“She’s got a point,” admitted Kalahari. “It was pretty good.”

Amber stopped squinting and let out a small chuckle herself. “All right,” she said. “I just wish I could’ve seen it.”

“Yeah,” said the pegasus. “Well, come on. Gotta get you to the facility.” She began heading towards the forest -- on foot -- before turning back over her shoulder. “Name’s Galeblazer, by the way.”

And then it clicked for Kalahari. “Did you go to Dartmare and graduate several years back?” she asked.

Galeblazer blinked. “Yeah, but… Hey, wait. You’re the zebra who was in my meteorogenics class, aren’t you? That senior.” She looked a bit closer at Kalahari. “Yeah, I remember your eyes. Can’t remember your name, though, sorry; I was never good at names.”

“Kalahari.”

“Right, Kalahari! Yeah, you gave that real long presentation on thunderstorm dynamics.” Kalahari blinked, twitched her ears, and narrowed her eyes a little, but Galeblazer didn’t seem to notice. “Weird having a non-pegasus in a meteorogenics class. I mean, it was a 101 elective, so anypony could take it, but most don’t.”

“Seriously?” asked Amber, looking between Kalahari and Galeblazer. “You two went to school together, too?”

“I took an early meteorogenics course as an elective in my last year to fill up some gaps,” said Kalahari, shrugging. “Looked interesting, so why not? And Galeblazer here was pretty much the class clown.”

“Pretty much, yeah,” said Galeblazer, not ashamed about it in the slightest. “Just wanted to keep it from being so… monotone.”

“That’s one way to put it,” muttered Kalahari.

Galeblazer shrugged and glanced up towards Phalanx, who was still talking with the stretcher carriers. She frowned. “Wonder what’s taking them so long,” she muttered. A few quick flaps brought her up the bank, with Kalahari and Amber following behind.

“-and out in the middle of frigging nowhere, too,” said Phalanx to Ida. “I mean, you seriously don’t think that’s even a little suspicious?” For their part, the stretcher ponies were taking it well enough, doing nothing more than exchanging flat glances with each other.

“W-well,” said Ida, kicking lightly at the ground, “if nothing else, it can’t hurt. We’re out here anyway, an-”

“And what?” Phalanx pushed himself up on his good legs. “I just- I can’t really see anypony being out here if they’re not after us.”

“You’re being a moron, Phalanx,” said Kalahari as lightly as one could say a line like that.

Everyone turned to the trio moving up the hill. Galeblazer plastered a stupid grin on her face and waved. “Hi, there!” she said to Phalanx. “I’m the mare freely offering you sustenance and lodging for the night!”

Phalanx didn’t pay attention to her, keeping his glare locked on Kalahari. “And why, pray tell,” he asked quietly, “am I being a moron?” It was hard to tell if it was the dangerous, “I am going to snap and bite your head off any minute now” quiet or the relatively saner, “you might be right so I’m doing my best to calm down” quiet.

Kalahari assumed the latter and plowed on. “Because there’s far better ways to abduct us than offering us help. Wait for us to go to sleep and jump us in the night, maybe. Or just pick us off one by one. Chandra was out in the woods with no one else, remember. But Galeblazer here-” She nodded toward Galeblazer, who smiled and waved again. “-just let herself be noticed.”

Phalanx opened his mouth to say something.

“And it’d be too much work,” cut in Kalahari, “to try to gain our trust if the other methods are easier.”

Phalanx closed his mouth.

“Plus,” interjected Amber, “their manes’re wrong.”

Everyone looked at Amber. There was some difference in their individual expressions, but, by and large, they were all the same: exactly what in the hay are you talking about?

Amber glanced between Chandra, Phalanx, Kalahari, and Ida. “What, you guys didn’t notice it? All of the ponies after us before had the same manestyle. Kinda shortish, but not buzzcuts, you know? And it’s the same one that the original thieves had. Didn’t I tell you that? It felt a little… I don’t know, cultish, almost.” She shrugged. “And none of these ponies have manes like that. So, call me crazy, but I don’t think these ponies and those are related.”

“I agree with Crazy,” said Ida. “These ponies don’t feel real aggressive or anything. I mean, we’ve got to trust somepony at some point.”

Phalanx tilted his head for a moment in thought. It was easy to see the change in his composure when he made his decision, a kind of light slackening. “Fine,” he muttered. “We’ll go through with this. And…” After a second’s balancing on his good hooves and a brief flap of his wings, he began pumping more vigorously, hovering above the ground. “…I can handle myself, thanks. I’m not that bad.” He took off into the night.

“You really do get no respect, don’t you?” said Kalahari to the stretcher carriers. I’d’ve taken them up on their offer. Especially after today.

One shrugged. “Meh. We’ve had worse.” She rolled up the stretcher and was about to take off when Galeblazer put a hoof on her shoulder and shook her head.

“Hold on a moment,” said Galeblazer, grinning a little. “I want to see this.”

“See what?” asked Ida.

“Well…” began Galeblazer. A brief pause, then she began counting down. “Five, four, three, two…”

A second later, Phalanx dropped back out of the sky and hovered just above the ground. “So where are we going?” He didn’t seem that embarrassed, or maybe he was just good at hiding it.

Galeblazer suppressed her grin. “You two take him there,” she said to the other pegasi. “I’ll take the rest on the ground.”

“Fair enough,” one of them said. They darted off into the sky, Phalanx following close behind.

“Right,” said Galeblazer, turning to the remainder. “Just follow me, and you’ll be warm in no time.” She began trotting into the forest.

Chandra promptly ran up towards her and pulled on her tail, bringing her to a halt. “Hang on a second,” she said. “You’re sure you know your way around here? Even in the dark?”

Galeblazer snorted and raised an eyebrow. “Know my…? Listen. I’ve been here off and on for years. I know this place a hay of a lot better than the back of my hoof. I could gallop through here blindfolded and not hit a branch. I can get us back in the dark.” She frowned and tapped her chin. “But you… Yeah, you girls might need some light. Whoops.”

Chandra didn’t say anything, but the tip of her horn began glowing, providing light for the group to see by. “Right, this should do it.”

“Great,” said Galeblazer. “Then follow me.” With that, the group began a slow trot into the forest.

The route Galeblazer was taking them on was a bit winding, but flat and clear, so Ida wasn’t complaining. She was moving at a bit of a slow pace to make sure they wouldn’t get lost in the dark, and every now and then she’d glance over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t losing anyone.

After a few silent minutes of silence, Chandra spoke up. “You know, you never told me why you’re out here.”

“Weather distribution,” said Galeblazer. She turned to face them, but kept walking backwards. “So, you all know where weather comes from, right?”

“Cloudsdale,” said Ida.

Galeblazer nodded. “Right. And usually, it’s the place that drops it off. You need rain, Cloudsdale drops off some rain clouds at your point in the circuit.” Behind her, Ida could see they were approaching a building, shadowed black against the dark blue sky.

“Yeah.”

“But Cloudsdale can’t be ev-” Galeblazer tripped, fell, rolled over, and kept walking like nothing had happened. “-can’t be everywhere. And what happens if you accidentally use up all your rain for the year? You can’t wait however long for Cloudsdale to come back. But you still need rain, or else your crops are gonna kick the bucket.”

The building was more visible now, lights flickering outside the front door. Although wide, it was low, only two stories tall, and very plain, like a warehouse. There weren’t a lot of windows and there was no sign or logo.

“That’s where we come in,” said Galeblazer. “We pick up the slack. We’re the touchup artists. Cloudsdale may send out the large-scale stuff, but we’re the ones who send out the smaller things. The little this and that. The variety. The spice of life. The luxuries.”

They arrived at the doors. “Welcome,” said Galeblazer, pushing them open, “to the Central Equestrian Weather Distribution Center.”

“The what?”

Everypony turned, some craning their necks, to look at Kalahari. She had a hoof over her mouth and shaking a little as she fought back the giggles.

“The Central Equestrian Weather Distribution Center,” repeated Galeblazer.

“The… hehe… the Central Center?” asked Kalahari.

“Yes,” said Galeblazer in the tone of someone who had explained this many times before. “As opposed to the Northern Center, or the Southeastern Center, or the I Didn’t Come up With That Name and I Think it’s Weird Too so Shut Up Center.” She shrugged. “That’s what it’s named, that’s what it’s been named ever since it was built, and it’s not going to change anytime soon.”

Kalahari didn’t say anything more, but she couldn’t stop giggling.

“Anyway,” said Galeblazer, “this is one of the key terrestrial facilities for weather distribution in Equestria. We get weather from Cloudsdale and hold onto it until the time is right, when we send it out. We’re not as important as Cloudsdale itself, obviously, but Cloudsdale itself can’t service the whole country. We help take some of the strain off of it by sending out more specialized, regional weather, instead of uber-generic, generalized weather.”

Considering how much Galeblazer had built it up, Ida thought the inside looked kind of plain. It was pretty much a standard-issue lobby for any number of buildings, and the colors were mostly gray and white. There weren’t even any ponies working there as a receptionist or anything.

Galeblazer noticed Ida’s look and grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, we don’t get a whole lotta visitors out here, to say the least. We need to be out here to reach as many locations as we can. And it doesn’t help that the place is completely self-sufficient -- we even grow our own food -- so there really isn’t any reason for anypony to come out here. Rest of the place looks a lot like this, ‘cau-”

“Quick question,” interjected Kalahari. “Where’s the doctor’s office or wherever? I want to check in on Phalanx.”

“Down that door, follow the signs,” said Galeblazer, pointing at a side door. “It’s not a big place, you should find him easily.”

“Thanks,” said Kalahari, and trotted off. Amber looked at the floor for a moment, then followed her. Ida almost went as well, but decided Amber didn’t need her right this moment.

“Anyways,” said Galeblazer, “we don’t do a whole lot of interior decorating here, because most of our work’s outside. Don’t expect much to look at.”

“Alright. But y’all have kitchens here, right?” asked Ida. “‘Cause I don’t know why, but I’ve got a hankerin’ t’do some cookin’, if you don’t mind me helpin’.”

“I’m sure they won’t mind that. If you’ll just follow me…”

“Goodness,” Doctor Florence said once she saw Phalanx’s X-ray. “You said you got it hit by a train signal, right?”

“Yeah,” said Phalanx. Was that a good “goodness” or a bad “goodness”?

“You got lucky,” said Florence. “You got veeeery lucky. No bones actually broken, so that splint should do just fine, but you’ve got one heck of a sprain, not to mention a terrible avulsion.”

“Avulsion?” Phalanx was sure he’d heard the term in guard training, but couldn’t remember what it meant.

“Basically an abrasion turned up to eleven. But don’t worry.” Florence grinned in a sort of self-satisfied way. “You should be up and running again tomorrow. Both metaphorically and literally.”

Phalanx resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Florence ducked into a cabinet. “Healing magic’s come a long way in the past century,” she said, “and just a few years ago, they came out-” Her voice became muffled, as if she’d picked something up in her mouth. “-wiff deez!” She pulled her head out of the cabinet, a pill bottle between her teeth, and dropped it on the table next to Phalanx.

“Healing accelerants,” she said. “Take one a day, and the magic in them will stitch your ankle up within the week, both inside and out. You’ll want to avoid exertion in the meantime -- no sprinting or kicking -- but after that, it’ll be good as new. But before you ask, no, taking more than one at a time does not increase the rate of healing. You can’t OD, but more than one won’t do you any good.”

“Really?” Phalanx squinted at the bottle. “Why aren’t these more widespread, if they’re so useful?”

Florence shrugged. “Money. The magic’s new, so even a single bottle’s really expensive, like mare-o’-war expensive. We only get them because, A, we’re working for the Court, and B, we’re so isolated. If we had a few too many pegasi out because of broken wings, we’d be hard-pressed to replace them, and the results could be catastrophic. We’ve got other, more reasonable solutions, but these are just the absolute last resort.”

“And you’re just going ahead and giving me a few?”

“What you’re doing is just as important as what we’re doing. We can spare a few.”

“Oh. Thanks.” Phalanx popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed. It went down easily and felt a little… tingly. Must just be the magic.

Someone knocked on the door and Kalahari poked her head in. “Knock knock. I was told I could find you here. Are you doing okay?”

“Fine. I’ve got my leg taken care of-” Phalanx showed her his bandaged leg. “-and a regimen to let it heal faster.”

“Great,” said Kalahari. She turned to Florence. “So what’s travel going to be like for him? We don’t want to stay here too long.”

“Nothing more than a jog tomorrow, and no running or kicking for another day or two after that,” said Florence. “After that, it might still be sore, but ought to be healed enough to use fully, if not constantly. Plus…” She fluffed out one of Phalanx’s wings. (Phalanx twitched and glared at her, but didn’t pull away.) “…pegasus, obviously. He can travel just fine in the air.”

Kalahari nodded. “Great. I’ll leave you to it, then.” She pulled back out of the room.

“And you can go for tonight,” said Florence. “Just remember to rest well when you can and don’t put too much stress on it.”

“Uh-huh. Thanks.” Of course he knew that. Why wouldn’t he know that? That was like the one thing anypony knew about healing. But it was probably force of habit that she said that, so Phalanx didn’t say anything as he left the room. He limped a little; the splint was taking a lot of the weight off his hoof, but not all of it, and it still throbbed.

Amber was standing outside, somehow looking a little more nervous than usual. She spoke up as soon as she saw Phalanx. “U-um, hey? Mr. Guard, um, Phalanx?”

“Yeah?”

Amber took a deep breath. “W-well, um, based on things are, um, things are going, I-I thought maybe we should, um, we should do the questioning thing here and now, just so that if I, y’know…” She swallowed. “…d-don’t make it to Canterlot, you at least have some stuff to work with.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, actually. Kalahari was just at the end of the hall, so Phalanx turned and hollered to her. “Kal! Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Kalahari stopped and looked over her shoulder. “What about?”

“Amber here was just thinking that we should go into the details now, just so that we still have information if worst comes to worst, and you’re the detective-”

Kalahari snorted. “Not like that. My work’s different than interrogations.”

Phalanx continued. “But, still, you’re the one with the most experience in this sort of thing, even if it’s not a lot. So-”

“I think that’s fine,” said Kalahari. “Even if nothing happens, it’ll be good for her to keep the event in the front of her memory.”

“You can just say that to me,” muttered Amber.

But Kalahari didn’t notice. “Just let me get something to write this down.”

A few minutes later, Phalanx, Amber, and Kalahari were set up in an empty room, Kalahari with a pen between her teeth and a sheet of paper on the table in front of her. “So,” said Phalanx, “how did this all start? If you think it might be important, don’t leave it out.”

Amber started dragging her hooves across her mane. “Um, okay, it was three nights ago. One or two in the morning, I forget. I was up because I couldn’t sleep. Mild insomniac. I was watching stars at the town hall when I noticed three ponies heading towards the Rainbow Friendship Royal Library. One of each main race. That, that looked a little suspicious, so I started following them, keeping out of sight. And when they got to the library, they broke in.”

Phalanx frowned. “Just like that?”

Amber nodded. “Yeah. The unicorn, she did something to the door with her magic and went inside. Why?”

“It might just be me, but you’d think the lock to a princess’s former castle would be a bit more secure than that.”

Amber twirled a lock of hair around her hoof. “I don’t think it’s the original lock, if that matters. When I was doing my runs to Ponyville a year or so ago, the library was undergoing some renovations and the door was missing. It was the same time that exhibition hall was added. So there’s that.”

“Yeah, that would probably matter.” Phalanx glanced at Kalahari. “You getting all this?”

Kalahari nodded, making a “continue” gesture.

“Alright,” said Amber. Her breathing was slowing down a little. “So the unicorn went inside. The other two stayed outside, so I couldn’t follow her inside. She went inside, and I couldn’t see what happened. Then there was this dull boom or thud or something and a bunch of black smoke came out. Really thick, I couldn’t see out of it. When it cleared, I followed the thieves back into town, but now there was a fourth one. A unicorn. Couldn’t tell if they were mare or stallion.”

Phalanx frowned and hmmed, but didn’t say anything.

Amber continued. “I followed them to the train station, where they jumped on a passing train that I think was there for them. The locomotive itself was number 231, for the Manehattan-Baltimare Railway, which is weird, ‘cause they don’t operate this far west. An-”

“Hang on,” said Phalanx. “What do you mean, ‘don’t operate this far west’? Don’t trains just go wherever?”

Amber gave him a strange look. “No, of course not. They go on the track their company owns.”

“Huh?”

Amber groaned and rubbed her head. “Do you know anything about trains? Locomotives, rolling stock, and rails are owned by a company. Trains operate on the track that the company owns and does upkeep on. Like, I work for Crystal Rail, which owns a good chunk of the track around the Crystal Empire. Ponyville’s pretty much the southest I go when working, because that’s the southest Crystal Rail’s track goes. Manehattan-Baltimare doesn’t own any tra-”

“But… what about passenger trains? They go all over the place, from city to city to city, without turning around or needing you to change trains.”

Phalanx noticed with some dismay that Amber was actually grinding her teeth. “Yes, because passenger trains are operated by Equestrak, which is government-owned, and the Court subsidizes a lot of rail lines in exchange for the capacity to freely operate on them.”

“Wait, passenger is government-operated but freight is private?”

Amber stared at Phalanx, eye slightly twitchy, before she smiled broadly and falsely. “Could you excuse me for a second? Thaaaaanks.” She left the room. After a moment, Phalanx could hear dull thuds from the hallway outside.

“You’re breaking the witness,” said Kalahari around the pen. “Stop breaking the witness!” Phalanx could tell she was holding back a grin.

“It’s not my fault trains don’t make a lot of sense!”

Amber walked back in. Her mane was a bit mussed up and her cap was distinctly dented. “Look,” she scowled, “just accept that the locomotive shouldn’t’ve been anywhere near Ponyville, alright?”

Was this seriously the same pony who’d been too afraid to step outside her door not six hours ago? And now she was glaring at a royal guard over trains? “Alright, fine.”

Amber scowled again and flicked her tail, then continued. “So they jumped on the train, and as it was leaving, one of the unicorns, I think it was the first one, she looked around to see if they’d been followed, and…” She swallowed. “…well, they had. She noticed me and… she didn’t say anything, but she smirked and did the…” She made the throat-slice motion. “…did that. And I, I got scared and bolted and… that’s that.”

“You didn’t happen to get a good look at any uff dem, did you?” Kalahari asked.

“Um, no, not except for the last one. She was the one Phalanx kicked out of the train.”

“I met her further up,” said Phalanx. “A bit full of herself, I thought. Tried to talk the talk, but she couldn’t walk the walk.”

Amber giggled nervously. “Well, she’s good at talking the talk, I think.” She frowned. “But aside from that, I don’t have anything else. Sorry.”

Kalahari spat the pen out. “Actually, that’s not that bad. You can’t exactly use a train without it being completely unnoticed. We can look into that when we get to Canterlot.”

“Good,” said Amber. She began running her forelegs over her mane again. “I’d really hate this all be for nothing. I mean, so would you, but for me, it, it’d feel like, I don’t know, like I’d failed somehow.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” said Kalahari. “If we don’t find the Elements, it’s hardly your fault.”

“I know,” mumbled Amber, “but-”

A unicorn leaned into the room. “If you’re hungry, there’s food in the cafeteria. Just FYI, but it’ll be gone in an hour, so don’t wait.” She left.

And then Phalanx realized just how hungry he was; he hadn’t had a proper meal since that morning. It gnawed lightly at him; he could ignore it, but it’d be easier to just eat. “I’m going to eat,” he said. He started following the signs to the cafeteria, Amber and Kalahari close behind. Hopefully, the food would be better than just generic slop. Sometimes, back in the Canterlot mess hall, the cooks could get lazy, just throw everything together, and pronounce it “edible”. To be fair, it was edible, but not much else.

Still, anything would be better than field rations or raw grass. Those were insults to perfectly good slop.

Considering how isolated the place was, the food was excellent, Chandra thought. She wolfed it down and was picking up seconds before anyone else had finished theirs.

“Slow down, mare,” Galeblazer said. “We don’t want you eating us out of fireplace and facility.”

“Wha’? Ih’s good,” said Chandra around a large bite of sandwich. She swallowed. “And I like to eat.” She planted her face in her plate again.

“Obviously.”

Once she had an open mouth again, Chandra asked, “So, what does ‘butterflying’ mean? You mentioned that out in the forest.”

“Oh, it’s just a reference to that old phrase,” said Galeblazer, waving a hoof. “You know, a butterfly flapping its wings can make a tornado halfway around the world. Cloudsdale moves, but we have to do all our stuff from here. I flap my wings, it makes wind that sends clouds to wherever.” She shrugged. “Doing it all can get complicated. You’ve got to take into account other pegasi doing the same, the effects of the other Weather Distribution Centers, th-”

Phalanx leaned in. “I hate to intrude, but what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be tonight? I don’t want to kick anypony out of their beds.”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Galeblazer. “We’ve always got at least a dozen empty beds, just in case. You’ll be fine. But where’re you going tomorrow? You got a route?”

“Ponyville,” said Phalanx. “Or Canterlot, whichever’s closer. I was going to look at a map, bu-”

“I can help!” Galeblazer said brightly. “Ponyville’s closer, and I know the way there. I can get you there. It’ll take a while, though, like more than a day.”

Chandra blinked. “That long?”

“Oh, yeah.” Galeblazer nodded. “Out here’s kind of the middle of nowhere. There really isn’t a quicker way, unless you want to go back to the tracks and jump on a train ha ha yeah right. But I also know a place we can stay for the night. It’s kinda close to Ponyville and we don’t even need to pack anything extra. It’s perfect.”

“And the ponies here will be fine with you just up and leaving?” asked Phalanx. “I mean, if you can, I’d be grateful for the help, but this doesn’t seem like a job you can leave easily.”

Galeblazer grinned. “Technically, I’m not supposed to be here. You’re supposed to rotate out and take a break every ten months to prevent burnout, and my last one ended right after Nightmare Night. But I’ve been doing this for a while, and I know I don’t get burnout. I can just keep going and going and going and going and going a-”

Phalanx glared at her in a way only Royal Guards could. That glare that you’d practically have to be a statue to not react to. That glare that said he didn’t have time for any more crap. That fierce glare that bespoke a contempt of unreachable depths of the recipient of the glare at the moment. “I get it,” he growled.

“-nd going and going and going and going and going a-”

“I get it.”

“-nd going and going and going a-”

Phalanx flicked his custard into her face.

“-nd the point is, we’re overstaffed, actually,” said Galeblazer, once she’d licked off the last bits of custard. “So they actually will be fine with me just up and leaving.”

“Fine.” Phalanx glared briefly at her one last time, then went back to his own meal.

“That escalated quickly,” said Galeblazer, licking a little custard from one of her hooves. “He could stand to lighten up a bit. It’s a joke. It’s not even that bad of one.”

Chandra shrugged. “Don’t look at me. Maybe he’s just concerned you’re not taking this seriously.”

Galeblazer rolled her eyes. “Come on. All work and no play makes Galeblazer a dull filly. And before you say anything about all play and no work, I do plenty of work. But just because I joke about something doesn’t mean I’m not taking it seriously.”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe he’s just stressed.”

“Better hope he doesn’t stay that way.”

11 - A Long Way Back

Amber Waves couldn’t sleep.

This was her fault. This was all her fault. If she hadn’t freaked out on the train, they’d be in Ponyville by now. Actually, they’d probably be in Canterlot already. And she’d’ve talked about what she’d seen in more detail and she’d be safe and secure in some tower and she wouldn’t be involved in this anymore. Instead, they were out in the middle of nowhere and would have to walk for over a day just to get back to Ponyville, probably with all sorts of hazards along the way. Not to mention Phalanx’s injury that would take, what, a week to heal completely.

Just because she was scared on the train.

The unfamiliar environment wasn’t helping things. When Amber couldn’t sleep in the Crystal Empire or Ponyville or someplace else she knew, she could walk around the place, clear her head, and not get lost. Here, she’d tried doing that, then she’d gotten stuck around the rec area for probably an hour, trying to find her way back to the bunks through the maze of hallways. But once she had, she was restless in addition to just sleepless and couldn’t just sit and wait for day to come. But she had to, because if she went out, she’d just get lost again. She didn’t even have any books to read. Why had she forgotten books?

But once the sky started losing its stars and slowly turning from purple to orange, Amber couldn’t take it anymore, and she was up and about again. She tried to follow the maps on the walls more closely, but she couldn’t always find them. There hadn’t been anypony up earlier, but now a few ponies were getting this and that ready for the day. They paid her no mind and she paid them no mind.

When the sky was a bit oranger, Amber was meandering somewhere around the kitchens, trying to distract herself with thoughts of food, when she noticed a familiar pony tiredly ambling through the hall. Amber took a few steps closer to be sure. Yeah, it was definitely her. “Hey, Ida,” said Amber, walking towards her.

Ida stopped walking, turned somewhere in Amber’s direction, and blinked blearily. “Amber,” she mumbled, then yawned widely. “Up already?”

“Not already. Still.” Amber giggled. “Insomnia.”

Ida blinked again. “Geez, Amber,” she said, more alert now. “I’m sorry. How you feelin’?”

Amber giggled again. “Nervous. It’s… I’m tired, but it just keeps me up. The bed doesn’t matter, it’s just, I can’t get to sleep, no matter what I do.”

“Dang,” muttered Ida. “I’ve been up sometimes, but I ain’t never had it this bad.”

“Me neither,” said Amber. “It didn’t start tonight. I, I haven’t really slept in several days.”

Ida’s eyes went wide. “Several days? Amber, are you feelin’ alright?”

Amber stared at the ground. “N-no,” she mumbled. “I’m tired and I…” She began blinking tears out her eyes. “I-I, I’m scared, Ida. I’ve n-never been so scared in all my l-life.”

Ida grabbed Amber and pulled her into a hug. “Whoa, hey now,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Amber’s sobs grew louder. “I-it’s not! Ida, I almost d-died twice yesterday. It’s not okay! It’s m-my fault we’re out here, it’s-”

“No, it ain’t,” said Ida. She squeezed a little harder. “Amber, listen here, it ain’t your fault.”

“B-but-”

“No, shh, listen.” Ida pushed them apart, holding Amber’s head in her hooves and looking her in the eye. “Yes, Amber, it may have been your idea to jump off the train. But there wasn’t really any other option. Those ponies may have been after you. But that ain’t your fault. You ain’t responsible for anythin’, they are. All you did was see them steal somethin’. They’re the ones goin’ and makin’ it worse, and there’s nothin’ you got to do with it.”

Ida hugged Amber again. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it ain’t okay. But it ain’t your fault. Y’don’t need to feel guilty.”

Amber sniffled, but less than before. Her tears came more slowly, and soon she was just breathing heavily with watery eyes. Her mind began to clear. Ida was right. This wasn’t her fault, or at least, not completely. It wasn’t like she wanted them to be out here. And, well, nopony seemed to be holding it against her, right? Definitely not Ida, but nopony had said anything about it last night, either. If they didn’t mind, why should she? The idea didn’t fix everything, but it helped.

As everything being or not being okay… Considering the thieves had actually found her, she was doing alright.

Amber squeezed Ida back. “Thanks.”

“I came out here ‘cause I wanted to, y’know,” said Ida. “I just wanted t’see how you were doin’. And, well, maybe it ain’t the greatest visit ever, with the attempted murder and all-” Amber smiled at that. “-but I’m glad to see you’re doin’ alright. Relatively speakin’.”

They squeezed one last time, then broke the hug. Amber wiped her eyes. “So, what’re you doing up?”

“Cookin’,” said Ida. “I figured, so long as we’re here, I can help them at least a little. Asked ‘em yesterday, and they said sure, but the cooks gotta get up early to make breakfast for the early birds.” She shrugged. “So here I am. You hungry?”

“Maybe a little, but I don’t want breakfast just yet.”

“I can make you somethin’ small if you want. An apple turnover or somethin’ like that.”

“You know what, yeah. That sounds good.”

Maybe it was the urgency of their mission, maybe they were just restless, but Phalanx thought everyone got up more quickly today than they had yesterday. Where some ponies had previously taken a while to just roll out of bed, here they were up and moving and even done with breakfast in about fifteen minutes.

He’d spurred them on as much as he could, and they were on the road before the sun was completely up. For a certain definition of “road”; Galeblazer’s route didn’t always take them on roads or paths. But it wasn’t too difficult, so they just kept moving.

His hoof was doing better. It wasn’t the greatest yet, and still throbbed a little, but Phalanx could almost keep up with the group with his three-legged limp. When they were getting a bit far ahead, he’d just take to the air to catch up with them. Sometimes he’d fly even when he didn’t have to, just to keep weight off his hoof.

They collectively decided to take a rest and have some food just after noon. Galeblazer found them a ledge over a bend in a river, where they divided up the food they had.

Phalanx looked at the others as he munched on his apple, trying to see how they were holding up without actually asking them. Amber seemed to be passed out, Galeblazer and Ida were talking about something, and Chandra was sampling some of the food they had left. All in all, not too bad.

And then there was Kalahari.

She was sitting right at the edge of cliff, staring down into the water below and frowning slightly. It wasn’t hard to guess that she was thinking. But about what? Whatever it was, it was pretty deep; she barely seemed aware of anything else around her.

Phalanx scooted up next to her. “You look contemplative,” he said. “What’s up?”

“Well, it’s… I’ve been reading that Elements of Harmony book a lot,” said Kalahari, “and I, I think that… Do you think maybe we’re supposed to be the Bearers?”

Phalanx blinked and cocked his head at her. “‘Supposed’ to be?”

Kalahari waved her hooves. “Destined. Fated. Whatever. It’s, one of the things Princess Twilight goes on a lot about in there is how friends can share a special connection before they even meet. And do you really think it’s a coincidence that everypony here was at least vaguely acquainted with at least one other pony here before this whole thing started? The odds are just too big.”

She began listing them off. “Amber knew Ida through business. Ida knew you through family and friendship. You and Chandra both worked at the same place and could probably identify each other by sight, if not by name. Chandra knew me through school. And I knew Galeblazer through school. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Amber and Galeblazer know each other through some weird thing and have just forgotten about it. It’s one thing to know about the six degrees of separation, it’s quite another to actually see it in action.”

Phalanx was about to say that that was a silly idea, but the moment he actually thought about it, it made some tiny degree of sense. And there were six of them. It was a nice thought, being the owner of one of Equestria’s most valuable artifacts. Then there were the ways that, just when all hope seemed lost, a new pony would just happen to pop out of the woodwork, have exactly the solution they needed, and join the group. Not to mention Luna’s hunch.

But at the same time… “I don’t know,” he said. “Why now? If we are meant to carry them, why weren’t we brought together sooner, before they were stolen?”

“I dunno.”

“And, yeah, this is pretty coincidental, but coincidences do happen.” Phalanx rubbed the back of his neck. “Of course, this ranks pretty high on the convenient-coincidence scale, but that doesn’t mean we’re automatically the Bearers.”

“Well, yeah, but…” said Kalahari. “I don’t know, it just… feels right to me, you know? Like it clicked.”

Phalanx knew the feeling. But it was a feeling he wasn’t getting. Not completely, anyway. “Maybe you’re right,” he said, “but we can’t assume that. For now, we just have to get Amber back to Canterlot and see if there’s anything more that we can get from her.”

“If you say so.” But Kalahari didn’t look very convinced, and she spent the rest of their break staring out at the river.

Somehow, the entire day passed without incident. They followed paths, streams, and whatever with pretty much nothing happening aside from that one time when Chandra almost choked on an elderberry and Kalahari had to Heimlich her. They made good time; even Amber managed to keep up with them in spite of her fatigue. The sky darkened at about the same rate they tired but Galeblazer kept reassuring them that they were getting closer and closer to her stop, so they kept going.

But when the sun was completely down and they actually reached Galeblazer’s stopover, Phalanx wasn’t happy.

“This… is the Princesses’ old castle.”

Galeblazer grinned. “Yep!”

“It’s a tourist attraction. You want us to break into it?”

“It’s not a tourist attraction now,” said Galeblazer, rolling her eyes. “It closed for the season a month ago. We’re just going to take shelter in there for the night, nopony will mind.”

“This is only an hour’s walk from Ponyville,” said Chandra. “Or something like that. Can’t we just get there now and get an inn or something and not break the law?”

Ida pointed to one side. Somehow, the trees over there looked darker than the others. “Sure. It’s right that way. Through the Everfree Forest. For an hour. In the middle of the night.”

“Law-breaking it is!” whispered Chandra. She leaned over the edge of the ravine that formed the castle’s dry moat. With tourist season done, the rope bridge that normally spanned it had been taken down. “So how’re we gonna get to it?”

Galeblazer began fluttering her wings and sidling across the moat. “Gee, I don’t know. It’s not like we have a pair of pegasi who can fly the rest of you all acroh wait.” She gave a big flap and backflipped across the moat. “Seriously. Phalanx and I, we can fly. It’s not that hard.”

It was a bit awkward, but everyone was across in a few minutes. Galeblazer told the group something about secret passages, told them to wait at the front door, and took off towards the castle. Phalanx, wanting a few words with her, followed.

“You could’ve told me about this, you know,” he said as they climbed. The look he was giving her wasn’t quite a glare, but it was getting up there.

Galeblazer grinned. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. We won’t even break anything, I know ho-”

“Isn’t there any better place than this? Any at all? It’s not that we’re trespassing, it’s… well, look at that.” Phalanx pointed at a sign over the entrance: Celestial Sisters Memorial Castle. “This isn’t a place where ponies sleep.”

“It’s strong, it’s sheltered, and they still keep the beds made,” said Galeblazer. “They’ve got these real old four-poster beds, you know, those giant ones, and tourists who come here can lie in them. For them, it’s just for a little while, but they’ll do fine for a night for us. There’s enough for all of us, and the sheets are even clean. We’ll be fine. Plus, no, there really isn’t any better place. You might be too much of a city colt to get it-” (Probably, Phalanx admitted to himself; he’d lived in Canterlot his whole life.) “-but there are plenty of places in Equestria where there’s just nothing. Except, say, weather distribution centers. Take a look at a map, and you won’t find a lot of stuff out here. You didn’t see any towns on the way down, did you?”

“No.”

“The defense rests.”

They alighted on a large ledge near the top of the castle, right next to a large statue of a gargoyle. There wasn’t any way in that Phalanx could see, but Galeblazer began poking around near the join between ledge and wall.

Phalanx looked up at the gargoyle. “Secret passages? Really?”

“Really really,” said Galeblazer, still rooting. “Celestia and Luna weren’t always so formal, and this place was kind of- a-ha!”

She pushed in an inconspicuous tile. With a loud grinding, the gargoyle suddenly flipped around, taking Phalanx and Galeblazer with it. Phalanx jumped and looked around; they were inside a skinny hallway in the castle, barely one pony wide.

“-kind of a funhouse for them,” said Galeblazer as if nothing had happened. “So they stuck in a bunch of secret passages and stuff just because they could.” She began worming down one of the halls. “They tell you all about it in the tours, even let you go through some.”

Phalanx followed her. The hall was narrow enough that, even with his wings closed, they both scraped opposite walls, and his injured leg was a bit clumsier than usual. “And you know about this one? Why isn’t it closed up for the season?”

Galeblazer laughed. “Well, when you hear about secret passages everywhere, you just kind of have to go looking for them on your own, don’tcha? They do seal off the passages in the off season, but this one, I don’t think they know about.”

Phalanx decided not to ask how she knew this one would be fine and just kept following her.

They popped out of a closet with a false back in one of the bedchambers. Galeblazer led the way to the front door, their hoofsteps echoing ominously in the empty rooms. Phalanx didn’t like to admit it to himself, but he’d always found buildings this large creepy when they were empty. It wasn’t that he thought there was something waiting in the shadows, it was just that things this big weren’t supposed to be empty. It just felt wrong, and the echoes weren’t helping things.

They unlocked the door and the rest of the group filed in. “And here we are,” said Galeblazer, grinning broadly. “Tourist trap sweet tourist trap. It’s got everything we need for the night, and there’re even maps showing you where to go.”

“Could’ve used those last night,” muttered Amber. She yawned.

“Don’t try to use the bathrooms, though, the water’s turned off. But if you want to stick sheets on your bed, the linen closet’s unlocked -- that’s on the map, too -- and they wash the sheets anyway at the start of each new season, so don’t worry about getting them dirty. To be honest, we could probably coat them in mud and they wouldn’t care so long as they could clean it out.” Galeblazer pointed down a hallway. “Go that way, second door on your left. Can’t miss ‘em.”

Amber rubbed her eyes and yawned again. “Good. I feel ready to fall asleep on my hooves.”

“Need any help?” Chandra asked. “Or sheets? I can make your bed for you.”

“Sheets’re fine,” said Amber. “But other than that, no.” She began walking, slightly unsteadily, towards the door Galeblazer had pointed out.

“You sure?” It was hard to miss the apprehension in Chandra’s voice.

“Pretty sure.”

Chandra glanced at Ida. “You get her the sheets,” Ida whispered. “I’ll follow her, make sure she don’t fall asleep while walkin’.”

“Sounds good,” Chandra whispered back. They followed Amber through the door.

Once they were gone, Phalanx turned to Galeblazer. “You sure know an awful lot about this place,” he said, squinting suspiciously.

Galeblazer laughed. “Oh, come on. Can’t I just know really really specific stuff for the sake of knowing really really specific stuff?”

“Community service,” Kalahari piped up.

Galeblazer’s grin never wavered. “Shut up.”

“She detonated a paint bomb in her school’s gym as her senior prank,” continued Kalahari, “and-”

“Shut up.”

“-had to perform community service as punishment-”

“Shut up.” In spite of Galeblazer’s words, there wasn’t a whole lot of force in them.

“-and she did it here over that summer.”

“Oh, come on,” said Galeblazer, “who told you that?” Her tone of voice wasn’t remotely serious. “They can’t prove it was me that did that.”

“You told me that. First day of meterogenics class. That get-to-know-you game.”

“I can’t prove it was me that did that.”

“You showed us newspaper clippings of it.”

“Circumstantial evidence, that’s all you’ve got!”

Phalanx snorted and headed off to begin scoping out the beds.

12 - Workaround

Vanguard glared at the prison guard. “Look, I’m not trying to be difficult. I just want to talk to the prisoners. Just a few minutes would be fine.” He’d been at this a while and was almost grinding his teeth.

The guard put up his hooves in a “hey, calm down” gesture. “Believe me, Captain, you have my sympathies, you really do. But Princess Celestia ordered that no pony be allowed to see them.”

“Not even me, the Captain of the entire Royal Guard?”

“Nopony means nopony. You’re somepony. I’m genuinely sorry, sir, but I can’t let you in.”

At least you couldn’t fault his loyalty. Vanguard sighed. “And I suppose there’s nothing I can do about it?”

“Not unless you can get Celestia to revoke her stance. Until then, sorry.”

And that trashed that. “Fine.” Vanguard knew it wasn’t the guard’s fault (he genuinely did sound sorry), but it took all his might to avoid getting snippy. He was used to giving orders, not obeying them. And on the rare occasion he did receive orders, they were at least sane.

Dupinto was waiting outside the room. “No luck?”

“Nope.”

“Son of a gelding. What’s the reason this time?”

“We can’t talk to anypony because Celestia says so.”

“That’s it? That’s…” Dupinto turned and banged his head against the wall a few times. “Is she even trying anymore? If she’s so adamant that they pose no danger to her, why can’t we just visit them? Either they pose a security risk or they don’t, make up your stupid mind!”

“We knew this was a long shot,” said Vanguard. “Even if we got in and tried questioning one of them, they probably wouldn’t answer us.” His words sounded patronizing even to him.

“That’s not the problem!” said Dupinto, his voice slowly getting louder and his ears back. “The problem is that I just want to look into a crime, and Celestia goes and takes it upon herself to stymie the investigation at every opportunity because of some incredibly vague reason that’s a big steaming load of minotaur manure anyway!”

He snorted and glared at the ground. “Let’s get outside,” he mumbled. “I need my air.” He left before Vanguard could respond.

Vanguard trotted to catch up with him, and Dupinto started talking again. “Look, I know that it probably wouldn’t’ve yielded any results. But I’d be fine with that. Well, okay, maybe not fine, it’d still suck, but it’d be tolerable. The issue here is that we keep running into barriers randomly set up by the one pony who should be helping us the most. I swear, it’s like-”

It took Vanguard a few moments to realize Dupinto wasn’t by his side anymore. He looked around and saw Dupinto several paces behind him, frozen mid-stride and looking thoroughly shocked. “Okay,” Vanguard said, “what’s up?”

Dupinto slowly put his hooves back down on the ground and chewed his lip for a second. He glanced around, as if he was worried someone might see them, then leaned in close to Vanguard and whispered, “You… you don’t think Celestia’s… involved, do you? That this is all her idea somehow?”

It was the kind of idea that both explained a lot and was utterly ludicrous. On the one hoof, assuming Celestia was involved and trying to keep something secret immediately put all her actions in a new light. It immediately gave a simple reason for Celestia’s borderline obsession with keeping the whole thing out of their reach: she didn’t want some secret getting out.

But on the other, why? What did she gain from this? She faked an attempt on her life, but then what? So far, all it had done was call attention to her. And what would’ve happened if the invaders had been stopped before they got to her chambers? There were too many variables on that side for it to be reasonable.

“…I don’t know,” said Vanguard. “That’s, yeah, it explains some things, but it just raises a lot more questions in other places.”

“I know, but…” Dupinto groaned in frustration and snorted. “I guess I just want to blame someone, anyone, and Celestia’s providing a good target.” He started walking again. “I was planning to go to watch a play tonight, you know. Rein or Shine just started its run. But then this came up, and it was more important, and then it didn’t yield anything, and wlaugh.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not that bad, I can always go another night, but…” Dupinto coughed and grinned sheepishly. “Well, you know.”

Vanguard nodded. “It’s all you’ve been saying for the past five minutes.”

“Yeah.” By now, they were out on the streets. “Anyway, thanks for the help. Such as it was.”

“If you get a brainstorm and I can help, just let me know. I’ll make sure your letter gets through.”

Dupinto flicked his tail and snorted. “Don’t count on it. See you… maybe later, maybe never.”

“Heh. See you maybe later, maybe never.”

That night, Vanguard dreamed.

“Baron von Ruthless!” he bellowed across the smoky factory factory floor. “Give yourself up! Your time machine is destroyed. Your goons are scattered. And your base is burning to the ground around you. Your plan is no more!”

Von Ruthless cackled and twirled his supremely fancy moustache. “Not so, Captain,” he sneered. “Did you really believe that I would not have a backup plan! Not so. For you see, although that time machine was indeed unique, be it far from me to not be prepared for just such an eventuality as this. What preparations, you may ask? I’m sorry to say that you shall not be privy to them just yet! And in spite of my losses, I have plenty more minions at my disposal, and they are so excited to meet you. Oh, coooolts!”

The wall behind him burst in, destroyed by a barrage of magic. When the dust cleared, almost a dozen assorted ponies were marching in, all of them staring at Vanguard with murder in their eyes.

“And now, I must take my leave. Ta ta!” Von Ruthless pulled out a grappling hook and hurled it upwards, where it was snagged by a passing autogyro, yanking him away from the scene.

The baron’s minions began charging, and Vanguard frowned. “Ten of you against one of me? This is hardly fair. Do you want me to close my eyes? Or m-”

Something boomed outside the factory, shaking it to its foundations, and a brilliant light blazed in from the skylights. Luna slammed through the roof and landed hard. A shockwave blasted out, throwing everypony through the air except for herself and Vanguard.

“Princess Luna!” he yelled. “Finally! The baron h-” He blinked and frowned. “Wait. Are you a Luna that I’m dreaming up or a Luna who’s entered my dreams from the outside?”

Luna tapped a hoof on the ground and everything froze. “I assure you, Captain, I am quite real. I hope you will forgive me for interrupting you dream, but I believe I can assist you.” She glanced over her shoulder at the retreating von Ruthless, barely visible in the distance. “Not in this, though. You should always dispatch them when decide to start blathering.”

“He was doing his hammy gloating speech,” protested Vanguard. “I wanted to hear his hammy gloating speech. Those’re always fun, even if they don’t make much sense. Besides, it’s a dream. I wouldn’t be doing this alone if it wasn’t.”

“Very well.” White light obscured Vanguard’s vision for half a moment. When it died down, he and Luna were standing in a starry void on top of a path also made of stars. It was dead-straight and ran out of sight in both directions, bordered on both sides by doors of every size and style.

Dupinto was testing the knob on one, but not having any luck. He sighed and turned away from it. He jumped a little when he saw Luna. “That was quick,” he said guiltily. “I thought, um…”

Luna paid his sheepishness no attention and turned to Vanguard. “Just to be safe, you know this pony, right?” She gestured to Dupinto.

“Yeah. Dupinto. Detective on the Elements of Harmony case and former one on the invasion case. We did a tiny bit of work together.”

“A few minutes ago, I noticed his dreams were unusually tumultuous,” said Luna. “When I went to still them, he told me about your failed attempt to question one. I myself cannot understand my sister’s motives at the moment, so I was sympathetic. I believe I can help you.”

Dupinto was bouncing on the tips of his hooves and grinning. “Her idea’s great. We just go into their dreams and question them there. It doesn’t even matter which one, and there’s no way for Celestia to know about it. Perfect. I’m just making sure you’re okay with it.”

Vanguard blinked. That… was actually a really good idea. It was just so simple. He’d never have thought to ask Luna for help. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s, wow, yeah. Let’s do it.” He glanced at Luna “Out of curiosity, could you tell if the pony being questioned is lying? Magically, I mean, if you can come into dreams…”

“In theory, yes,” said Luna, “but that would require me to go far deeper into the subconscious than I am comfortable with. It is not dangerous, but merely an abhorrent violation of privacy. I have not tried it, and I intend to never do so. Dreams are open, but a pony’s innermost thoughts should remain their own. Now…” The doors on either side of the path blurred, and infinite doors collapsed down to fourteen or fifteen. “Do either of you have a specific pony you would like to question?”

“The leader,” Vanguard said. “That cobalt unicorn. The one you would’ve scared the pants off if she’d been wearing pants. You know the one?”

“I do,” said Luna. It might’ve just been the light, but Vanguard could’ve sworn she was smirking a little. She turned to Dupinto. “Your thoughts?”

Dupinto shrugged. “Didn’t see any of them. Sure, let’s go with her.”

“Very well.” All but one of the doors dissolved into mist. The remaining one opened up, spilling light everywhere. Vanguard put up a foreleg to protect his eyes, but the light was already dying down.

They were at the bottom of the sea, fish and manta rays and octopi (octopuses?) and jellyfish and seaponies and who knew what else swirling around them in the water. One of those things was the mare, swimming around without direction or a care in the world. She didn’t seem to notice them.

Luna cleared her throat (somehow). The mare idly turned to look at the sound. At first, she just waved serenely, then her eyes went wide once the implication of Luna’s presence hit her. She tried to say something, but only bubbles came out.

The walls came banging in from infinity, one at a time, followed by the ceiling, then the floor. Within seconds, the group was in a brightly-lit interrogation room with no doors or one-way mirrors. It was completely dry, the water gone without ever seeming to have actually left. The mare was chained to a chair in front of a table; she could freely move her legs, but not enough to actually leave the chair. Across from her was another chair, currently empty.

Finally, they were getting somewhere. Vanguard put his front hooves on the table, looked the mare in the eye, and grinned toothily. “Hello,” he said. “You’re going to tell us everything you know about a few nights ago.”

Luna stepped up next to him. When she spoke, her voice was a low rumble more commonly associated with thunder. “And if you do not, Tartarus shall seem like paradise compared to what we shall do to you.”

“Whoa, hey!” said Dupinto, shoving them both aside. “That’s not how you do this! You won’t get anything that way, that stuff doesn’t work! Let the pony who actually knows what he’s talking about do this.”

Vanguard reluctantly stepped aside. Luna did, too, although Vanguard suspected she was scowling a little. The mare glanced between the three of them, still nervous, but calming slightly.

“Hey,” Dupinto said, sitting down in front of the mare, “sorry about that. My friends are a little, ahm, anxious.”

The mare raised an eyebrow. “A little.”

“You should see them come tax season.”

The mare snorted. An amused snort, not a contemptuous one. “The guard, maybe, but the other doesn’t pay taxes.”

“You think paying taxes is bad? She has to deal with the other side. For everyone.”

The mare laughed softly.

“You comfortable?” asked Dupinto. “I can make you a bit more comfortable if you want.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

Luna glanced at Vanguard, but he motioned for her to keep calm. Interrogations were always slower than they seemed like they’d be.

“So. I’m Detective Dupinto-” Dupinto pointed over his shoulder. “-that’s Captain Dauntless Vanguard, and you already know Princess Luna.” Luna snorted when the mare glanced over at her. “And you are?” Dupinto asked.

The mare grinned slightly. “Nah. I don’t think you need to know that.”

“Alright. You’re Nah.”

The mare bristled, but didn’t say anything.

“Hey,” said Dupinto, putting his hooves up in mock resignation, “you don’t like it, you can cooperate. So, Nah, you invaded Canterlot Castle a few nights ago. Why?”

The mare laughed. “You really think it’s that easy? That I’ll sing like a bird just because you asked nicely?”

“Well, that, and because of what’ll happen if you don’t. You want to hear it, Nah?”

“Hit me.”

“If you insist.” Dupinto steepled his hooves. “There’s nothing physical I can do to you here,” he said. “Oh, sure, I can technically do literally anything to you, but it won’t affect you. And because you’ll be resisting interrogation, you’ll be proud of it. I won’t even have the satisfaction of depriving you of a good night’s sleep.”

The mare leaned back and grinned smugly.

“But here doesn’t really exist, does it, Nah? It’s not in here that matters, it’s out there, in the real world. And I can’t touch you out there. But out there, you’re still in jail. And I can make sure you don’t get out.” Dupinto paused. “Ever.”

The mare’s grin faltered.

“Let me be frank: if you tell us nothing, you will be in prison for the rest of your life. Your family, your friends, everyone you’ve ever known? Gone. You’ll never see them again.” Dupinto made a ffwt noise with his mouth and flicked a hoof away. “You committed treason, you know, so you’ll be in maximum security. All the little privileges you didn’t know were privileges -- showers, tasty food, room to trot around in, free bathroom breaks, decent company -- they’ll be gone. For the remainder of your life, you will be stuck in a dank, musty 8x10 cell. You will live there. You will die there. And you will rot there.”

The mare’s grin was gone completely. She blinked a few times. “You…” she mumbled, “you can’t hurt my family. You don’t know who they are.”

Dupinto shrugged. “Of course I don’t. And even if I knew who they were, I wouldn’t touch them. My problem’s with you, not with them. Whoever they are.” He shrugged again. “But does it matter? Maximum security. No visitors. No parole. End of discussion. So, I’ll ask again: what’s your name?”

Luna leaned over Dupinto’s shoulder. “And if you do not tell him, I shall-”

Dupinto planted a hoof in Luna’s face and lightly pushed her away. “Shut up, Your Highness.”

Everyone in the room blinked at Dupinto. Dream or not, you didn’t speak to one of the Princesses like that. Luna opened her mouth.

Dupinto beat her to it. “With respect, Your Grace, this isn’t your thing. This is my thing. Let me do my thing. And besides, this is her decision.” He nodded at the mare. “Let her make it.”

Luna frowned and rustled her wings, but said nothing and stepped away.

“Once again,” said Dupinto. “What’s your name? I got all night for this, you know.”

The mare looked down for a moment, then said, “Silver Tongue.”

“Silver Tongue,” said Dupinto, nodding. “Nice name. So, Silver Tongue, what, exactly, were you doing last night?”

“Well, getting that gas into Celestia’s room,” said Silver Tongue, “but as to what the gas does? I’m not exactly sure myself, to be honest. Probably just kill her, but that obviously didn’t work. I’m told to do things, I do them, no questions. If I ask questions, I’m told that’s need-to-know information.”

“And lemme guess,” said Dupinto. “You’re always told that you don’t need to know.”

“When they decide to be polite about it.”

Dupinto sighed. “Locked out of the loop. It’s always frustrating, isn’t it? But what’s your ultimate goal? What do ‘they’ want to do?”

“Depose Celestia. Obviously. It doesn’t matter how as long as she’s not in power anymore. Well, and Luna, too-” Silver Tongue leaned to one side to talk to Luna. “-sorry, ma’am -- but Celestia’s the bigger one, she’d make a bigger impact.”

Vanguard had heard a lot of “down with the Princesses” talk over the years, ranging from them being tyrants to a desire to move from an eternal diarchy. “Why do you want to get rid of her?”

Silver Tongue scratched her head. “It’s… kind of hard to explain. It’s… Well, power’s too concentrated. If someone wanted to take down Equestria, all they’d need to do is take down the Princesses.”

“‘All they’d need to do is take down the Princesses’? Really?” Dupinto chuckled. “That’s never happened. Besides, there’s an order of succession.”

“Uh, no,” snorted Silver Tongue. “No no no no no. First of all, equating ‘that’s never happened’ to ‘that will never happen’ is a recipe for disaster. Second of all, yes it has. Look through history, and you can find plenty of instances where either Celestia or Luna has been incapacitated. Even at least one time where it happened to both at once. The difference is that there was at least one additional princess to pick up the slack then. But it’s just the two of them now, so we’re back to square one. And third, there really isn’t an order of succession. Not once you look at it.”

Dupinto burst into laughter -- not giggles, but deep belly laughter. “Good joke, but there’s totally an order of succession. You think they’d just forget about something that important?”

“That’s the way it is,” Silver Tongue said flatly. “Maybe there’s one de jure, but not de facto.”

The laughter died, and Dupinto turned to Vanguard and Luna. “She’s kidding, right? Tell me she’s kidding. There’s an order of succession if all princesses are out of action, right?”

Vanguard and Luna exchanged glances. “Technically, yes,” Vanguard muttered guiltily, “but it…”

“It has not been updated in centuries,” said Luna. “It has never been formally required in the history of Equestria, so it is very rare that anypony looks at it seriously. As it has not been altered to accommodate changes in society, it-”

“It’s an obsolete pile of horseapples is what it is,” said Vanguard. “When you can actually get past the Ye Olde Equestrian and understand it, like half of it is impossible nowadays. It still talks about fiefs. Fiefs. When was the last time you actually used the word ‘fief’ in anything resembling a normal conversation?”

“Approximately one thousand, three hundred, and fifty-eight years ago,” Luna stage-whispered.

“And that’s not even getting into the way the Royal Guard gets chopped up.” Vanguard was talking unusually loudly and quickly. “That was back when whatever army Equestria had was basically who you could afford the pay the most and who you were able to bully into service, and ‘payment’ was pretty much a gigantic pile of gold. The whole thing’s just an absolute mess.”

Silver Tongue gestured at Vanguard. “See? Take out two ponies, and you can easily cripple Equestria. We need to update.”

“Fair enough,” said Dupinto. He didn’t try to argue one way or the other on the “depose Celestia” thing; that wasn’t important at the moment. “Now, who’re the ‘they’ you’re working for?”

“Mostly a smallish group of nobles. A duke, a few counts and earls. Can’t remember names right now, but come back later. Oh, and Pennyroyal’s kind of the leader.”

Everyone twitched. “Pennyroyal?” Luna asked. “You mean…”

Silver Tongue rolled her eyes. “Yes, that Pennyroyal. Penny Pincher, Penny Dreadful, whatever you want to call him. He funds the whole thing and calls a lot of the shots. Why do you think he’s so stingy? He’s funneling every bit he can save into this.”

“So what does he gain from this?” asked Dupinto. He was hiding it well, but Vanguard could hear the urgency in his voice. “Does he want to rule, what?”

“He just wants to strengthen Equestria,” said Silver Tongue. She twitched slightly. “After this all goes down, he wants to stay right where he is. He’ll just be in a more secure position because he won’t be rendered worthless by two deaths.”

“So what’s their next step? Or is that need-to-know again?”

“Need-to-know, obviously. I mean, this attempt failed, and they were really banking on it not failing, so I dunno.” Silver Tongue shrugged. “Maybe they’ve got another plan, maybe not. I dunno.”

“Hmm. Still can’t recall any of those names?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Hmm. Well, try to think of them. I think we’re done here for tonight, but we’ll be back tomorrow night.”

Silver Tongue blinked a few times, then shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Dupinto turned to Luna. “Your Highness, we can leave now.”

Luna didn’t say anything, but the walls, floor, and ceiling of the room pulled back. Water flooded the room, obscuring Vanguard’s vision. By the time he cleared it, he was on the starry path again with Luna and Dupinto, while Silver Tongue was nowhere to be seen.

“Okay,” said Dupinto, pacing back and forth. “It didn’t feel like she was lying, so I’m going to assume she wasn’t. Partly because we can’t draw any conclusions if she’s lying.” He grinned at Vanguard. “See? Told you we could pin it on Penny Pincher!”

“That was a long shot. This isn’t.”

“Did I… miss something?” asked Luna.

“Well, yesterday,” said Dupinto, then he frowned. “Wait, it’s night. Does that make it the day before yesterday? One of those two…”

“Right before the investigation got shut down,” said Vanguard.

“What he said. I was trying to look up the model of the smoke machine used, and we found that Penny Pincher buys it the most. So we were thinking, maybe he bought this one and was part of it. It was, yeah, a long shot, but I was hopeful, and I was right!” Dupinto grinned again.

“Hmm,” murmured Luna. “This is troubling. I have no knowledge of a conspiracy of nobles such as this. They must be very well-organized.”

“At least it’s not Celestia herself,” said Dupinto.

Luna stiffened subtly. She tried to keep her voice casual, but Vanguard could hear the strain in it. “What makes you say that?”

“Oh, it seems stupid now,” said Dupinto, vaguely waving a hoof, “but yesterday, Vanguard and I were trying to question Silver Tongue, but when we couldn’t get to her, it just felt like Celestia was trying to make things difficult for us, and… yeah.”

Luna was thinking hard. Vanguard could see it. She was too still and too unblinking for it to be anything else. Shock? If she was following the same lines he had yesterday, probably. And considering she was more involved in the court, she might have a more solid answer to the “why” than he had.

“But nobles… that changes things,” continued Dupinto. “I knew they weren’t always the greatest supporters of Celestia, but this is something new. First of all, we’ve got to lo-”

“We should sleep on this,” interrupted Luna. It felt forced, like she was trying to convince herself of something. “Time is short; I shall meet you again like this tomorrow night. We can discuss our next course of action then.”

Vanguard was about to protest, but the void, Luna, and Dupinto dripped away like paint, leaving him back in the factory. The ten ponies that had been charging him before now lay on the ground, moaning.

He looked out the hole in the wall. The autogyro was still out there, but it all seemed kind of childish now. This was just a dream, and there was a group of nobles out there trying to kill Celestia. What good wo-

Oh, what the hay. He needed some stress relief.

He jumped out of the hole, taking a deep breath to ye- No, wait, he couldn’t just yell. He needed to chew the scenery, to shake the earth to its foundations. He took a deeper breath.

“BAAAAARRRRROOOOONNNNN!”

Yeah. That worked.

13 - Bugger

Amber Waves couldn’t sleep.

It was much better than last night, at least. She’d managed to actually get some sleep tonight, and felt a lot better, but at around 5 or 6 in the morning, she all of a sudden woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep. But oh well. At least she didn’t feel like she’d just up and faint without any warning.

Getting out of bed had been the hard part. Not because she was tired, but because it felt like the bed resisted all attempts for her to stand up. It was one of those massively oversized things with more mattress than bed, even though the bed itself was plenty big already. Amber tried to sit up, and the feathers kept shifting in the mattress beneath her, dropping her down and smooshing other parts up. It took a real effort for her to fully extricate herself out of the pile, but she eventually tumbled to the floor.

When she took to walking around out of habit, it was slightly disorienting. Not because of the unfamiliar floor layout (not completely, anyway), but because of the darkness. It was inside, so there was no moonlight or starlight, and none of the torches were lit and none of the electric lights were working. Amber assumed they’d just turned off the electricity in the off season to save money. There were some emergency lights pulsing softly on the ceiling, probably powered by magic, but it was still very dark, and it took a while for Amber’s eyes to adjust.At least here, the maps were good and there were plenty of them. At one point, she tried to get lost, then looked at a map and found her way back to her room in only a few minutes.

So why was she up? Amber wasn’t sure. She was feeling a lot better about things than she had been last night — she’d be safe in Canterlot by this evening — so it couldn’t be that. Was she nervous? Sure. Who wouldn’t be? But there was nervous, and then there was nervous. She was the former. She wasn’t sitting in her bed in a cold sweat, jumping at every shadow. It wasn’t even the bed; that was very comfortable.

Of course, it might just be her insomnia naturally acting up again. But that was boring.

When the sun was just beginning to poke above the horizon, she was hanging out in the foyer, looking up at the tapestries hanging there. It was strange; there was one throne in Canterlot, where Celestia and Luna changed off every dawn and dusk, but there were two here, one with a golden sun tapestry above it and the other with a midnight blue one. Did it mean something? Were the Princesses trying to send a message back then that both of them were involved in running the country? Or did they just forget to remodel the one in Canterlot once Luna came back? Had the one in Canterlot even been built when Luna became Nightmare Moon?

Amber frowned, trying to recall her history. But thanks to Sombra’s involvement and the Crystal Empire’s temporary absence, history had always been a bit screwy for Crystal Ponies. Their past century covered Equestria’s past millennium, and then some. Her grandma had always gone on about how it was a struggle to relearn the new years once the Empire’s curse was lifted.

And it wasn’t just like the end of a calendar year, where you just need to remember to add one to the previous year, she’d said. We were gone an irregular number of years — one thousand and thirty-seven, if I remember it correctly — and it wasn’t even the same month. We left near the end of fall and came back midsummer. Your mother, she was just a filly, she tried to convince me to have another birthday party only a few months after her last one, since it technically was her birthday again, but I put my hoof down.

Anyway, Amber did her best to remember her history lessons, but she didn’t come up with anything tangible. She couldn’t even recall whether Canterlot had been founded when Celestia and Luna fought.

She jumped at the sound of somepony’s hooves clip-clopping across the stone. She whirled around; Phalanx was coming out of a side hallway. When he saw Amber, he jumped, too. “Oh, um, hey,” he said. He gave her a small wave. “What’re you doing up?”

Amber frowned. Something wasn’t right here. She couldn’t put her hooftip on it, but something was up. “Insomnia. Just can’t sleep.”

“Heh. Right. Yeah.” Phalanx coughed.

Yeah, something was up. Amber didn’t know Phalanx all that well, but she knew him well enough to know that he didn’t get sheepish like this. Right? He was a Royal Guard, he was straight and to-the-point. “So what’s your excuse?” she asked.

Phalanx twitched in a way guards didn’t twitch. “Um, exercise,” he said. “Wanted to get a few laps around the place in before the sun rose.”

That seemed plausible enough. But what had set her off in the first place? He’d barely even said anything when alarms started going off in her head. She’d barely seen him. “And did you get them in?”

Phalanx shrugged. “Not as much as I’d like, but enough.” He yawned. Amber couldn’t tell if it was real or fake. “Got up too early. Thinking of getting a little more sleep in. Maybe you should try it, too.”

“Won’t work. It’s insomnia, I can’t sleep even if I’m tired.”

“Maybe you can just get some rest. Like a power nap. Come on, let’s get back to bed.”

Phalanx wasn’t normally this pushy, right? And besides, he seemed like the kind of stallion who’d be more like, You’re taking a power nap. No ifs, ands, or buts. And he was looking kind of nervous for some reason; Phalanx also didn’t seem like the stallion who got nervous over this sort of thing. But Amber wasn’t in the feeling to argue, so she just said, “Alright.”

The sun was up a little bit more as they headed through the hall towards the bedrooms, just enough to make Amber squint against the brightness. “You know,” she said, “maybe we just ought to wake up everypony else. Get going early, you know?”

Phalanx gulped. That definitely wasn’t like him. “Um, h-how come?”

Amber tilted her head as she stared at him. “Because I don’t want to spend any longer out here next to the Everfree than necessary? And I want to get to Canterlot and safety as soon as possible?”

“W-we’ll get there in time. We don’t need t-to rush it. Come on, let’s get to bed.”

Seriously, what was with him? She would’ve thought that he’d support the idea of keeping moving. And he didn’t stammer like that. As Amber searched for a response, they walked in silence, the only sound being their regular hoofsteps echoing through th-

Their regular hoofsteps. Both hers and his.

It finally hit her. She looked down at Phalanx’s legs, then up at him.

He wasn’t just nervous now; he was practically sweating. “What?”

“Where’s your splint?”

“Amber?”

It was Phalanx’s voice, but it was coming from behind her. She whipped her head around to see another Phalanx standing on the opposite end of the hall. This one did have a splint.

“Crap,” mumbled the first Phalanx.

She began looking back and forth between the two Phalanxes. If not for the splint, they’d be exactly alike, and she’d never be able to tell the difference between the two. But that could only mean-

The second Phalanx’s eyes went wide, and he spread his wings. “Changeling!” he bellowed. He leapt forward, fury in his eyes.

The first Phalanx began scrabbling backward, his forelegs in front of his face, talking fast and loud. “Whoa, whoa, hey, we can-!”

Any further debate was cut short by the second Phalanx delivering the first one a wing-powered flying hoof to the face. It was a blunt, terse argument, but it got the point across. The two of them rolled into the foyer. Something green flashed. Amber followed them; she didn’t know what she could do, but she had to do something.

When she reached them, she was presented with the slightly surreal sight of Phalanx holding herself in a headlock. Her copy was gasping, trying to say something as she wrestled. “Hey!” Amber 2 yelled in an angry tone of voice Amber was sure she’d never use in that situation. “You’ve got the wrong pony! You’re not supposed to tackle me, you-”

“No,” snapped Phalanx. “It’s her I’m not supposed to tackle.” He wrestled Amber 2’s face to look right at Amber.

Amber 2’s expression fell once she saw Amber. Amber waved and tried to flash a smug grin, but was too nervous to get out anything other than something resembling a confused grimace.

“Fudge,” Amber 2 said flatly.

Phalanx could do a better smug smirk than Amber could ever hope to. “Yyyyyep,” he said, and smashed Amber 2’s face into the ground.

The disguise fell away into wisps of greenish fog. The changeling below, out cold, was one of the creepiest things Amber had seen. It (He? She? Amber couldn’t tell.) was a little smaller than the average pony, and had the same general shape as one, but that was where the similarities ended.

It was the holes that well and truly did it for Amber. They were just… holes, poking right through the changeling’s legs. Amber knew enough about biology to know what they were piercing in a pony, and it made her shudder to think of what kind of damage would be done if those holes were on her legs. And there were so many of them; how could those legs still support the changeling’s weight? How did they bend without breaking? It was wrong, plain and simple.

Not that any other part of the changeling’s body was much better. It was like somepony had taken every single thing that could make Amber cringe a little and slapped it on there somewhere. Fangs? Uh-huh. Big, long ones, half as long as the average unicorn horn. And sharp, from the looks of them, but Amber wasn’t about to poke them and see. It didn’t have a warm fuzzy coat, but a cold smooth carapace that was quite scrawny and far too flexible for its own good. It mane, its tail, even its ears, they were these irregular things that looked like the frills on lizards. And the eyes. There was no white, no pupil. Just a blank, matte blue. (Although it was better than a bug’s compound eyes blown up to pony size, Amber had to admit.) At least its iridescent wings were somewhat pretty, but Amber couldn’t imagine the horrific buzzing they would make when it flew.

Phalanx, panting, kicked the changeling again. “You alright?” he asked Amber.

“Um, y-yeah,” Amber said, tentatively nodding. “It didn’t, um, try anything on me. Just came up to me looking like you and I thought it was you and I started talking to it and it talked back and it looked confused but it never actually went and-”

There was a yawn, and Ida walked out of the bedroom hallway, rubbing her eyes. “Mornin’,” she mumbled. “I heard somethin’ fierce out here, and- and… and why’s there a changelin’ on the floor there?”

“Tried to get to Amber by being me,” said Phalanx. “But I came in and ruined that for it.”

“Huh. What do you think it’s doin’ out here?”

“Little picture? Probably food.” With an expression of great disgust on his face, Phalanx reached out a hoof and nudged the changeling’s head over to get a better look at it. “I’ve heard these things can get little bits and pieces of emotion from sleeping ponies. Not as much as pretending to be a victim’s loved one, but it’s something. Big picture? Don’t know. Maybe there isn’t a big picture for it and it’s just looking at us as a meal for today.”

Ida crept forward, staring at the changeling. Where Phalanx looked like he was holding down bile, Ida looked like she’d just found something fascinatingly grotesque. “Do you think there’s more of them out there? Like maybe this one’s just some advance scout or somethin’?” She started poking the changeling in the stomach.

“I don’t know. Did you see anything else, Amber? Or hear anything?”

Thanks to her focus on the changeling, it took Amber a few seconds to register that Phalanx was talking to her again. “I, I don’t think so,” she said. “Just this one.”

Phalanx frowned and nudged at the changeling again. “Hmm.”

Ida leaned in close to it, even sniffing. She straightened up. “I’m gonna look outside for a bit, just to be sure there ain’t any out there that I can see. Amber, you know Dad’s name, right?”

“Yeah,” said Amber, nodding, “it’s Al-”

Ida put a hoof to Amber’s mouth, silencing her. “Don’t just go out and say it! They might be listenin’. When I come back, if it’s really me, I’ll whisper it to you. Got it?”

“Yeah.”

A small gust of wind blew in as Ida opened the front door and stepped outside, but the door was too heavy and the breeze too light to blow it shut. It was a cold, biting wind, though, and the changeling twitched as it felt it. It was a full-body twitch, almost a spasm, with all legs moving and wings and eyelids fluttering, but it didn’t get up.

Amber jumped a little and scooted backwards. “Is it… dead?” Wait, if it’s moving, how can it be dead?

“Hardly,” Phalanx snorted. “They’re persistent little buggers. Out cold, sure, but nowhere near dead. And I don’t think it’s getting up anytime soon.”

“So what do we do with it?” The body didn’t move any more, and Amber worked up the courage to get a bit closer to it. Up close, if you focused on just the face, it was surprising how ponylike it looked. Disregarding the fangs, anyway. If you imagined the exoskeleton coated with fur, it-

“If it were up to me? Kill it,” said Phalanx.

Amber jumped again. “W-what, just like that? Phalanx, it’s-”

“-a member of a species,” Phalanx said angrily, “that’s been a constant threat to Equestria since the country’s inception. There’ve been plenty of small-scale incursions and infiltrations.”

“Well, y-yeah, but-”

“And then there’s that whole royal wedding thing seventy years ago. They nearly killed Celestia. Celestia. And have you seen the ultimate fate of their victims?”

“N-no, I-”

“Husks. They look fine, but they’re braindead. All their emotions and thoughts are just gone.”

Amber cringed. Yeesh.

“Yeah,” Phalanx said. “We should kill it.”

“But…” Amber looked back at the changeling. It was surprisingly thin. “Look at it. It’s probably starving.” What does starving on emotions even feel like? “Yeah, taking emotions is bad, but you can’t fault a starving pony for stealing an apple, can you?”

Phalanx blinked. “Well, no, but… this is different.”

“How?

“What’s to say it wouldn’t just go and take all our emotions? A starving pony would only take one or two apples, but this thing wouldn’t have that restraint.”

“Do you really think so? That they’re just animals?”

“Well, they are.” Phalanx groaned. “Look, it’s almost dawn. If you really feel that strongly about it, we’ll take it to a vote when everypony else wakes up. I mean…” He kicked at the changeling. “…it’s not like this thing’s going anywhere.”

The changeling’s eyes snapped open and it jumped to its feet. Before Phalanx could react, it kicked him in the chest, sending him sliding across the floor.

“Psych!” it yelled. Its wings began buzzing and it dashed for the door.

Phalanx flared his wings to slow his slide. “Ida!” he yelled. “It’s get-”

The changeling was half-out the door when it slammed shut with a deafening boom, trapping one of its wings inside. Half a second later, there came a series of dull thuds. The door opened slightly, the wing was pulled back, and Ida stuck her head inside, grinning broadly. “Got the sucker,” she said.

She pushed open the door a bit more and dragged the unconscious changeling back inside; one wing was crumpled from getting smashed in by the door. “I was just comin’ back when you yelled. Heard a commotion, though ‘that ain’t good’, slammed the door, beat the stuffin’ out of it. Oh, and…” Ida leaned in close to Amber and whispered, “Albemarle.”

“She’s good,” Amber said to Phalanx.

“There ain’t any more outside, least not as far as I could see. Think this one’s alone.”

“We can only hope,” said Phalanx.

Chandra loped out of the bedroom hallway, looking a bit more awake than Ida, but still a little sleepy. “Only hope what?” she asked. “That you can all be quis that a changeling?” Chandra zipped up next to its body and was staring at it with an unusual intensity. “Ooo, it is. I’ve always wanted to meet one!”

“Meet one,” Phalanx said flatly. “Really.”

“Yeah! Their magic’s supposed to work on a completely different wavelength or whatever from unicorns,” said Chandra, “except for Chrysalis’s-” She stopped herself and frowned. “-is that how you make the possessive? Whatever. Except for that of Chrysalis, but she’s hardly a normal changeling any more than Celestia is a normal pony, and there’s like no communication between changelings and ponies anyway-”

“It’s an emotion-eating monster!” yelled Phalanx. “And you want to talk to it?”

Chandra huffed. “If you keep saying it’s a monster and we shouldn’t talk to it, then we’ll never talk to it and find out if it isn’t a monster. Self-fulfilling prophecy much?” She carefully turned the changeling’s body over and winced. “Oh, wow, that wing does not look good.”

“It was tryin’ to escape, so I slammed the door on it,” said Ida. “Wing got caught, and it was movin’ real fast, so it whiplashed around and flopped around a bit.”

“I think it was a bit more than a bit. You might’ve broken the joint.”

Ida shrugged. “Well, at least it ain’t eatin’ me.”

“Hnng. We should probably do something about this,” muttered Chandra. “It might not be too bad.”

“I can help,” said Amber. “Whatever you need.”

“Whoa, hey,” said Phalanx, stepping between Amber and the changeling, “no. We are not fixing that thing’s wing. Especially not you. It probably tried to eat your emotions just now, when you met it.”

“So, what, you’re just going to leave it here with a broken wing?”

“If I can’t kill it, yes. Exactly what do you think I’ve been saying this whole time?”

“Now that’s just cruel.”

“Like it deserves better.”

Chandra looked up at Phalanx. “Are you seriously listening to yourself?” she asked. Her voice was surprisingly bitter. “You want to kill this changeling off or leave it to suffer just because of what other changelings have done?”

“Granny AJ had personal experience with them,” said Ida, “and she didn’t like them much. Even aside from that, I ain’t heard any stories about a nice changelin’. True ones, anyway.”

“Of course not. Because ponies like you and him always assume the worst and don’t give them the chance to be nice.”

“They have plenty of chances to be nice!” said Phalanx. “They could just walk up to someone while looking like a changeling and lay it all out instead of living a lie, but they don’t. Deception’s in their blood, an-”

Amber coughed loudly. “Um, excuse me, but does all that really matter right now? C-can’t we just fix the wing and discuss pony-changeling relationships later?”

Phalanx glared at Amber, but when he talked again, he said, “Okay, you know what? Fine. Just go ahead and fix its stupid wing. But I still want to kill it, so I don’t see what good it’ll do you.” He fired off one last dagger-shooting look at the changeling, then stalked a few paces back.

“Alright,” said Chandra, clapping her forehooves together and rubbing them. “Then let’s do it. You still up for helping, Amber?”

“Yeah,” said Amber, nodding vigorously.

“You know anything about changeling and/or pegasus anatomy?”

The nods slowly died down. “…No.”

“Then I need you to talk to it while I take a look at the damage. Just keep it occupied.” Chandra turned her gaze to the still-limp changeling. “Assuming it’s awake.”

“Um, okay.” Amber lightly nudged the changeling. “Hey. You awake?”

Its wings buzzed, but that was it.

“I’m gonna just straighten your wing out a little,” said Amber, “with the help of my friend here. I, um, I don’t want you waking up and sinking those fangs into my neck, okay?” Can you even hear me? Maybe not. But it can’t hurt.

The changeling cracked open an eye and stared at Amber. She quailed a little at the matte blue, but stood her ground. The eye was shiny enough that she could see her reflection in it. Behind her, Chandra didn’t look too frightened.

The changeling snorted and turned over. It spread its wings out; even with no knowledge of changeling and/or pegasus anatomy, Amber could tell that the bent one was hanging awkwardly.

“Give me a minute,” said Chandra. She trotted closer to the injured wing. “Keep talking to her, will you? Take her mind off this.”

Amber swallowed. Easier said than done. “S-so, um,” she began, then stopped dead in her tracks. How am I supposed to make small talk with a changeling, of all things? Start from the beginning, I guess. “What’s your name?”

The changeling looked at Amber, head tilted. Its expressions were incredibly ponylike, almost disturbing so; it was clearly a “huh?” expression. Then it sighed, rolled its eyes (maybe, it was hard to tell), and muttered, “Cocoon.”

“Cocoon?”

Yes, changelings were quite expressive; now it had on a “no duh” look. “Yes. Cocoon. Didn’t your hear me?” Its voice — her voice, it was definitely a female voice — was surprisingly clear, given the fangs and… well, pretty much every stereotype Amber had ever heard about changelings. Far from being raspy, spitting, or lispy, her voice was smooth, flowing, and maybe a little sibilant. And underneath it all, there was some strange accent Amber couldn’t place; it was hard to even say how Cocoon’s voice was accented, but it definitely wasn’t the standard Equestrian accent.

“I, um, was just being sure,” mumbled Amber. “I’m Amber, by the way. Amber Waves.”

Chandra spoke up. “Well, the good news is the wing isn’t broken. Just needed a little smoothing. The bad news is it’s dislocated. I’ll need to push it back into place, so give me a second for this to get ready, alright?”

Cocoon glanced over her shoulder and glared at Chandra, but said nothing.

Need to keep talking. “What’re you doing out here?” asked Amber. “You with anyone?” She knew those questions would probably sound kind of invasive, so she tried to keep her voice as friendly as she could. She didn’t know how well she succeeded.

Cocoon turned her glare to the ground. “‘M alone,” she muttered. “And I’m hungry, okay? I need emotions to live and you’ve got emotions. You’re the only things who’ve got emotions for miles. I’m hungry.”

She looked up at Phalanx. “And only stupid drones with zero impulse control leave their prey as husks. If you wait a while after draining some love or any other emotion, it’ll come back and you can get some more and do it all again and leave nobody the wiser. Ponies don’t chop down apple trees every harvest, do they?”

Phalanx glared at her.

Cocoon snorted. “Pfft. Ponies. Always think you ca-”

Chandra chose that moment to push Cocoon’s wing back into place. Cocoon transitioned mid-syllable from only-slightly-accented Equestrian to an earsplitting shriek of hisses, spits, buzzes, and even chirrups that resembled static more than language.

“She’s good,” Chandra yelled over the din. “Just give it a few minutes.”

Cocoon’s extended litany of probable obscenity slowly died down from deafening noise to barely-audible noise. Breathing through clenched teeth (those fangs looked reeeaaally sharp right about now), she snarled at Chandra. “What in the-” She said something untranscribable. “-did you do that for? You could’ve warned me, you little-” And again.

Phalanx was about to step up to her, but Chandra was already replying. “If I’d warned you, you would’ve tensed up,” she said calmly. “And then it would’ve hurt even more.”

“And, you know,” Phalanx growled, “maybe you shouldn’t insult the species of the pony trying to heal you at that exact moment.”

Cocoon’s mouth worked for a moment without saying anything, then she very slowly closed it and looked away from Phalanx, glaring at some random bit of mortar in the wall.

After a solid ten seconds of silence, Amber coughed. “S-so, um, now what?”

“Kill it,” said Phalanx again.

“We just spent a minute fixing her wing!” said Amber. “Do you reall-”

“I only let you fix its wing,” snapped Phalanx, “because you wouldn’t shut up about it. It’s a danger to Equestria, and we should kill it.”

“It’s just one changeling! Maybe a swarm is a danger, but not one!”

“I resent that,” muttered Cocoon.

“Which part?” said Phalanx. “A swarm being a danger or you not being one?”

Cocoon smirked. “What do you think?”

“You’re not helping your case, you know,” said Chandra.

“Oh, hush. If I’m going to die anyway, I might as well have some fun with it.”

“Look at her, she’s joking!” said Amber. “Monsters don’t have a sense of humor. She’s not a monster, just different.”

“Different can be kind of important. That’s like sa-”

Ida cleared her throat. “Um, weren’t y’all gonna put it to a vote or somethin’?”

“I vote I stay alive,” said Cocoon.

“You’re the one we’re voting on,” said Amber. “Your vote can’t really count. You’re, um, kinda biased.”

Cocoon cocked her head at Amber. “Do you want to keep me alive or not?”

“KALAHARI!” bellowed Phalanx. “GALEBLAZER! Get in here! We’ve got something we need to talk about!”

Galeblazer slid into the room from the hallway, wide awake and grinning like a loon. “About time. At that rate, I could script, edit, cast, direct, and receive awards for two or three plays before you got anything done.”

Kalahari stalked into the room, ears back and head low. “You guys really need to keep it down,” she muttered. “I could hear you all the way through…” She stopped when she noticed Cocoon.

“And they’d be the good awards, too, like Best Actor and Best Orchestration and-”

Kalahari nudged Galeblazer. “Um, aren’t you a little surprised to see a changeling on the floor there?”

Galeblazer looked at Cocoon, cocked her head, then said, “Nah, not really. We see them plenty of times out by the Distribution Center. Drive them off. Don’t kill her, that’s messy. And mean.”

“So you’re saying we shouldn’t kill it?” Phalanx asked.

“Right.”

“Fine.” Phalanx turned to Kalahari. “And what about you? Kill it or let it go?”

Kalahari backed up a pace and coughed nervously. “Well, um, killing it seems kind of… extreme,” she muttered. “I mean, has it really done anything yet? Everypony here looks fine.”

“Not here, but-”

“Then we shouldn’t kill it!” said Kalahari. “It hasn’t done anything we’ve seen! We can’t just execute it because of something we think it did!”

“Fine.” Phalanx turned to Ida. “And y-”

Chandra cleared her throat. “Phalanx.”

“-ou. What do you th-”

“Phalanx.”

“-ink we shou-”

“Phalanx!”

“What?” yelled Phalanx, whirling on Chandra.

“We have a majority. We’re letting it go.”

Phalanx stopped, breathing heavily. He looked off into the distance, thinking. “Right,” he mumbled eventually. “You guys have four, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Phalanx glared at Chandra for a moment, then said to Cocoon, “Fine. You, just- just get out of here, you son of a gelding.”

Cocoon’s wings began buzzing. “I’m a daughter,” she said, then she whisked out the door and was gone.

The entry hall was left in dead silence. No one seemed to want to say anything, do anything, or even look at one another. Phalanx’s glare was boring a hole in a wall. Ida kept glancing between the above-throne tapestries and the door. Chandra was staring at the door, blinking a lot. Kalahari kept moving her head around, like she wasn’t sure what to look at. Galeblazer was examining a stained-glass window, utterly unperturbed. And Amber was incredibly interested in a series of cracks on one of the tiles in the floor.

Eventually, Phalanx stood up and stomped over to the bedroom hallway. “All of you, get your stuff together. We’re leaving.”

Of course, we just had to let it go.

Phalanx was still fuming about the changeling as they walked through the Everfree. Whether in a swarm or just one, changelings were dangerous. But no one else here had seen that, had they? They’d only heard stories. They’d never witnessed the effect of somepony just being sucked dry. Or even just the implications of a changeling posing as a loved one. They wouldn’t get how invasive it was. And all the while he was thinking about this, his anger kept growing.

Luckily, the Everfree was filled with dangerous creatures, so whenever one attacked, Phalanx took his frustrations out on it. The results were impressive; this was perhaps the first time he’d heard of anypony dropkicking a chimera through a tree, let alone two of them.

As everypony else moved on, Galeblazer looked at the chimera wedged in the top of the tree, trying to unwrap itself from around the branches. “Call me crazy, but I think you might be a tad upset. What’s up?” she asked.

Phalanx flicked his tail. “What do you think? We let a changeling go.” He began semi-limping after the others.

“You seem to be taking this rather personally, Mr. Grouch,” said Galeblazer, lightly nudging him in the ribs as they walked. “Come on, it’s just one.”

“And it’s one too many. Yeah, one changeling won’t cause much trouble on a national level, but on a personal one… Have you ever seen that happen?”

“No.”

“I have. Way back, and I mean way back, when I was still fairly green. I’d been part of a task force meant to root out any possible changelings from Whinnychester. Small town in the northeast. The townsfolk had grumbled a bit, but they tolerated it for the most part; it was pretty isolated, so they’d had changeling problems before. The main exception-” Phalanx kicked a rock away. “-was the mayor. A few nights in, she gave us a particularly vindictive tongue-lashing while her husband stood by and watched. Our methods were necessary, but she kept saying-” He added a little whine to his voice. “-they were too invasive. And the whole time, her husband was supporting her and adding in his own two bits.” He took a deep breath.

Galeblazer picked up on it. “But…”

“But then the colonel came in, followed by the actual husband. He was half-delirious, covered in gelatinous chunks of changeling slime, and claimed to be missing a week. One quick test later, we were down one pony and up one changeling.”

“Oh, snap.”

Phalanx snorted. “That’s one way to put it. The mayor hadn’t opposed us after that.”

He kicked at another rock. “There’d only been one other changeling there, but it’s the kind of thing that’s enough to get you nervous. What if we’d missed one? Or two? Or more? We just couldn’t be sure, especially if the changelings were skilled at imitation or deflecting suspicion.”

“Ah. Yeah, yeah, I can totally see that,” said Galeblazer, nodding. “But really, you need lighten up a little. Just a bit, you know? You’re all-” She put on a Serious Face. “-grr, grr, we should kill it, and you’re just not listening to anypony else.”

Phalanx tilted his head at Galeblazer. “You’re saying I’m wrong?”

“No. Well, you are wrong, but that’s not what I’m getting at. You didn’t exactly… act the nicest back there. Kinda bloodthirsty, you know?” Galeblazer grinned. “Psychotic.”

“But-” Phalanx cut himself off. Yeesh, was that ever true. Just because the changeling deserved death didn’t mean he had to constantly spout that fact off. Normal ponies didn’t like to be reminded of the fact that he was trained to kill, and, yeah, constantly talking about that would make him come off as a bit psychotic. He wasn’t, but it wouldn’t look that way.

“Okay, yeah,” he said. “But…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Come on. It’s a changeling. They suck the life out of ponies.”

“Only emotions.”

“Do it enough and the result’s the same.”

“Yeah. And if you drink enough water at once, you’ll die.”

Phalanx flicked his tail in annoyance. “There’s a difference, you know.”

Galeblazer made an exaggerated “thinking” face as she looked up at the sky, then said, “Nah, not really. See, they’re both things you need to live, and a small imbalance is fine, but a large imbalance is bad. You’re overreacting a smidge.”

“A smidge.”

“Yeah.”

“A smidge?” hissed Phalanx. “Okay, maybe a small imbalance in emotions is fine. But it’s how they get those emotions that makes changelings dangerous. You did hear the story I told you just a minute ago, right? Throw changelings into the equation, and you can’t be sure who you’re talking to. They might be who you think they are, or they might be a changeling lying through their teeth to try and feed on you. That’s not the sort of thing you just forget about and let lie.”

“Maybe not. I’ll give you that. But getting back to our changeling: how were you gonna kill her?”

“Huh?”

“You didn’t have a weapon or anything. How were gonna kill her? Crush her head? Snap her spine? You could’ve just threatened her and let her go.”

Phalanx fumed. But Galeblazer had a point. He didn’t have anything to make any killings clean. Anything he could’ve done would’ve just served to make him look even more psychotic. All he really did was make himself look like a fool in front of everypony else. “Fine,” he admitted eventually. “It’s probably for the best we didn’t kill it.”

“There,” said Galeblazer, grinning. “Aren’t you glad we talked about what was bugging you?”

Phalanx snorted. “Yeah, sure, I…” His voice trailed off. Wait. Bugging- “That was terrible!”

“Of course! It’s a pun, that’s how you know it’s great!”

They got to Ponyville without further incident, but Amber still hid under the seats of their train until they left. They weren’t home free yet.

No one talked much on the ride back to Canterlot; everyone was still feeling a bit awkward over Cocoon and seemed utterly determined to stare out their windows as much as possible. Amber considered trying to engage someone in conversation, but she just didn’t feel up to it.

Still, with every bump of the rails, Amber’s apprehension bled away a little bit more. She was going to be safe. In the middle of Canterlot, surrounded by guards protecting her? It’d be hard for anypony to get to her, even if they had an intimate knowledge of the castle. By the time they reached Canterlot and the train hissed into the station, Amber was more relaxed than she’d been in days. This was going to be alright.

Kalahari hiked up her bags on her back. “If any of you want to maybe meet Celestia, you might as well come with me and Phalanx and Amber. Once we’re done questioning her, we’ll try to get an audience with Celestia and see if we can find a place for Amber to stay.”

Everyone did, so soon Phalanx and Kalahari were leading the group through Canterlot. Amber was at the end, not because she was nervous, but because she kept looking around and falling back. She’d never been to Canterlot before, and it had this style, this… grandeur that couldn’t be captured in pictures. It was hard to say what; maybe it was the architecture of the city, maybe it was the look of the populace, but there was this certain something in the air that made her want to stop and look. And when they got to Canterlot Castle… wow. The Crystal Palace was pretty and all, but it was kinda monochromatic and didn’t have a whole lot of variety. But here, the castle looked like something straight out of a storybook. It had turrets, sweeping walls, big windows, courtyards, everything. It was almost a shame she was here only because she wanted to be protected.

After a brief talk with Phalanx, the guards at the gate waved them through the gate. The moment they were inside the walls, Amber’s relief went up another notch, if that was possible. Surrounded by walls, surrounded by guards. What more protection could you ask for?

As the group headed through the halls, Ida dropped back a few steps and walked alongside Amber. “You’re lookin’ a lot better,” she observed.

“Well, yeah,” said Amber. She giggled; not the nervous giggle of the past few days, but one of happiness and relief. “It’s, we got here. I’m going to be safe. Do you know what that feels like?”

“I can imagine.”

“I’ve been frightened for my life ever since Nightmare Night, and now…” Amber sighed. “It’s such a huge weight off my back, I can’t even begin to describe it. I-”

“Excuse me?”

Amber jumped about a foot in the air at Celestia’s voice; for her size, she moved awfully quietly. The group quickly turned around and made bows of varying depth, all of them muttering, “Your Highness.”

Celestia looked over them. “This is an… interesting group,” she said. “Are you looking for something in particular?” A scribe was standing at her side and slightly behind her, scribbling something down.

Kalahari pushed her way to the front. “Actually, Your Highness, you were one of the ponies we were looking for. This-” She gestured to Amber, who grinned nervously and waved. “-is the only witness to the theft of the Elements of Harmony. We have evidence that the thieves are trying to kill her, and…” She took a deep breath. “…and, given the importance of the case, she was hoping you could provide some kind of protection against them. A secure place to stay, a guard, something like that.”

Celestia frowned. “You know for a fact that they’re trying to kill her?”

“Your Highness,” Phalanx said, stepping forward, “we were attacked twice on the way here. And believe me, if she’s not secured, they won’t stop there. We need to get her safe, and we need to find out what she knows.”

“Then I think I can find something,” said Celestia. “If you have anywhere to stay until evening-”

“I’ve got room at my place,” Chandra spoke up. “She can stay there.”

“Perfect,” said Celestia with a nod. “I’ll see what I can find and call you this evening.”

“And the questioning?” Kalahari asked. “I told Dupinto — he’s my boss — I told him where I was going, but that was days ago, and he’ll want to know I’m back so he can get to work.”

“He’s-” Celestia coughed. “He’s a bit busy at the moment. I’ll make sure he knows you’re back and he can set up the questioning.”

Kalahari bowed again. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me…” Celestia lightly brushed past them, the scribe following closely in her wake.

Amber almost melted into a puddle on the floor. This was set. This was all set. She was going to be okay. All she had to do now was wait.

“Keep your legs beneath you, hayseed,” muttered Ida, poking her in the ribs.

There were a few seconds of silence before Chandra cleared her throat. “Hey. You want to do lunch at my place?”

They hadn’t even gotten inside Chandra’s house and Phalanx was going after the newspapers.

“You’re really that interested in them?” Kalahari asked with an eye on the pile of papers on Phalanx’s back, between his wings.

“Well, excuse me for wanting to stay up-to-date,” said Phalanx. “I don’t know what’s been going on anywhere since I left Canterlot. It’s been too busy.”

Chandra pulled open the door. “Kitchen’s to the left, help yourself to whatever,” she said, “I’ve got plenty of food.”

It didn’t take long for everypony to get settled in. Amber didn’t go for food, instead stretching out on a couch for a nap. Phalanx buried himself in the newspapers. Galeblazer said there wasn’t anything there that she wanted (which baffled Chandra, given the amount of food available) and went out into Canterlot to find something else.

So that left Chandra, Kalahari, and Ida sitting around their table, chowing down on sandwiches. After a while, Kalahari swallowed her bite of lettuce and tomato and said, “So now what?”

“Now wha’ wha’?” Ida garbled around the mass of food in her own mouth.

“Well, it’s…” Kalahari rubbed the back of her neck. “We’re all here because of Amber.” She nodded towards the living room. “We needed to get her here to safety. But now that she is safe, now what?”

“We could stick together,” said Ida after she swallowed. “I’ve like these past few days. Barrin’ that one time on the train.”

“That won’t really work,” said Chandra. Which was a shame, because she was enjoying their time together, too. Including that one time on the train, if she was being honest, in a holy-crap-I-almost-died-but-that’s-what-made-it-awesome way. “Phalanx and I both have jobs we need to do-”

“Me, too,” interjected Kalahari. “I can’t stick around Amber just because I feel like it.”

“-and Amber’s probably going to stay in wherever for a while,” Chandra continued, “until this all gets sorted out, and I don’t know what kinds of visitors will be allowed. And who knows what’s going on with Galeblazer.”

“So what about you?” Kalahari asked Ida.

Ida twirled a short lock of hair. “Eh, I dunno,” she said. “I was thinkin’ of stayin’ with Amber, even if I’m in a hotel and she’s in some safe house. I’ve known her a while, and she’d like the company, but when you put it that way… I dunno. Wasn’t really thinkin’ that much, to be honest. Feel kinda silly now.”

“I might be able to get you in,” said Kalahari, “depending on where she is. But that’s a big might, so don’t count on it.”

“If you can, that’d be great.”

“It all depends on safety,” said Kalahari. “I mean, we can’t have you going back and forth from a safe house every day, that’d defeat the purpose. But maybe if you stay with her…” She tapped her chin. “These sorts of things can be stressful, and, well, no offense to Amber, but she’s…”

Ida nodded. “Yeah. I like her and all, but she ain’t good with trouble. I’m actually surprised how well she’s handlin’ it now.”

“Even though she hid under the seats of train cars several times?” Chandra asked.

“For her, that is good.”

“And then there’s you,” muttered Kalahari, “who goes and attacks the ponies looking for her.”

“Hey!” snapped Ida. “I got outta there alright.”

“And what if you hadn’t? What if you got the tar beaten out of you and were left broken on the floor of the train?”

“I didn’t have a choice! This stallion, he already knew Amber was back there, and he was calling for backup.”

“Okay, so maybe bucking him the first time wasn’t a bad idea,” admitted Kalahari. “But to keep it up? Are you trying to get beat up?”

Ida pushed herself up a little out of her chair and raised her voice a little more. “Maybe I just don’t want to-”

Chandra decided she’d had enough and lightly thwacked them both on the head with magic. They both turned to look at her. “Look, what’s done is done,” she said in a strained voice. “There’s no use arguing about it. So both of you, shut up. Okay?”

Ida huffed and shrugged. “Okay.”

“Fine,” Kalahari said, shooting another glare at Ida.

Suppressing a sigh, Chandra cleared her throat. “Anyway, Ida, if you need a place to stay for the night, I’d be happy to oblige. Galeblazer, too, if-”

Phalanx chose that moment to speak up. Incredibly loudly. “WHAT THE MOTHER-DUCKING FRICKER FRAK!”

Chandra flinched and rubbed a hoof in her ear. “Phalanx, calm-”

“Calm down? Calm down?” Phalanx slammed a newspaper on the table: HOME INVASION IN CANTERLOT screamed the headline. “Some group tries to kill Celestia and you want me to CALM DOWN?”

“Wait, what?” Chandra skimmed through the article. Phalanx seemed to be right. Somehow, a group of ponies had managed to get into Canterlot Castle and almost kill Celestia with… the article didn’t go into detail. With something. Somehow.

“I mean, sweet crystalline Cadance, how does that happen?” muttered Phalanx. “We’ve got all the…” He blinked and frowned. “…the…” After a brief pause, he began flipping through the next day’s paper. “No way,” he muttered, “no way…”

Kalahari snatched the article about the invasion from Chandra. “Lemme see that.” She looked it over, her expression growing more and more confused. “You know, for an article about… about this, it’s really vague.” She slid the paper over to Ida. “Not much of anything besides the basics. Not even speculation. You’d think they’d have statements from somepony.”

“Happened the day we left for the Crystal Empire,” Ida said after glancing at the date. “That’s, what, one or two days after the Elements got stolen?”

“Two, I think,” said Kalahari. “They were stolen the morning of Nightmare Night-”

“You’ve…” muttered Phalanx, still leafing through the papers, “you’ve gotta be kidding me. There’s gotta be something. Anything. You can’t just… No.”

Chandra sighed. “What’s up, Phalanx?” She could tell that if she didn’t ask him about it, he was going to keep muttering like that.

“There’s almost nothing else in next day’s paper,” said Phalanx. He beat his wings in frustration, though not hard enough to send newspaper everywhere. “Just some stupid piece about how Celestia’s not going to pursue her leads. And it’s not even on the front page! It’s buried near the back and it’s so small I almost missed it. Look.” He pushed the paper into the center of the table.

Ida and Kalahari stuck their heads in first, so Chandra had to crane her head over them to get a good look. And there it was, stuffed beneath a fluff piece about autumn’s apple harvest. Ida and Kalahari were blocking most of the text, but from what she could see, it had even less actual content than the first article. The wording was vague and padded, and it said the same thing several times over.

“Unbelievable,” Phalanx muttered, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

Chandra’s thoughts exactly. What was going on here? Not just in Celestia’s cancelling the investigation, but the way it was presented. It was troubling. Was someone getting into the papers or government? Chandra worked directly for Luna, and already she was thinking of the possibility that somehow, some of Luna’s instructions had been meant to… do something bad. It wasn’t likely, she was just an astronomer, but the idea still gnawed at her.

Kalahari interrupted her thoughts. “I’ll ask Dupinto about it tomorrow,” she said, “see if he knows anything.”

“He better,” muttered Phalanx, glaring at the newspaper.

“So if the invasion happened two days after the Elements were stolen,” Ida said to Kalahari, “then-”

As Ida and Kalahari discussed the possibility that the two were connected, Chandra poked Phalanx on the nose. “You’re getting angry again.”

“With good reason,” grumbled Phalanx, not looking up.

“I never said it wasn’t with good reason. But when you get angry, you get really scowly and snappy and you stay that way for a while. I know this is serious for you, but you need to stop stewing on it before it gets worse.”

Phalanx snorted. “That’s not going to happen. Not unless someone bursts in through the door with something to distract me.”

Galeblazer kicked open the front door. “Hey everybody!” she yelled. “I got dipping sticks!”

Phalanx blinked at her, then blinked at Chandra and shrugged. “...That’ll work.”

Amber’s glow of happiness had worn off a little by evening, but it came right back once a courier came by and said they’d prepared a secure room for her. With Phalanx at her side (just in case, and it made her feel better), they followed the courier into Canterlot Castle to her room.

Some distance in, Amber coughed. “Um. Hey. Phalanx.”

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for… for coming and getting me, I… I don’t know how long I would’ve lasted if you hadn’t come along.”

Phalanx opened his mouth to say something, but Amber cut him off. “And, and don’t say it’s nothing. Please. It’s, I, it’s a lot to me.”

From the sound of his voice, Phalanx had to switch gears mid-thought. “It’s- How’d you know that?”

“Because you guys always say it’s nothing when it isn’t,” replied Amber. “Yeah, it is your job, but would you be willing to do it without pay?”

After a pause, Phalanx shook his head. “No. But it’s still my j-”

“It’s a job you volunteered for. You knew it’d be dangerous, but you signed up anyway. It’s not like it was the only thing you could get.” A thought slid through Amber’s mind, and she stumbled a little. “Right?” she asked nervously.

“Right,” said Phalanx, chuckling a little. “This was actually my first job choice.”

“And, well, if you’re setting yourself up for this-”

“Ma’am. Sergeant,” the courier said. “Right in here.” She waved them into a tower room.

It was larger than Amber’s own bedroom back in the Crystal Empire, so it was plenty big. It was kind of a combination of a bedroom and living room, with a bed tucked away on one side and a couch and coffee table on the other. A large window was opposite the door, looking out over the twilit Canterlot. Lots of full bookshelves lined the walls; at least Amber’d have something to do while she was in here. There was even a private bathroom off to one side. It wasn’t much, but it was something, and it made Amber feel safe.

Then she noticed the bars on the window.

It was dark, so she hadn’t noticed them at first. But there they were: thick, iron, and crisscrossing the glass on the outside. It was hard to tell why they bothered her; logically, they’d keep pegasi from breaking in that way, right? Right. But it just seemed… off. Overkill. It wasn’t like she had nowhere to go if someone broke in. So why bother with them?

The courier cleared her throat. “If you don’t mind, I’ll get Celestia, and she can show you the ropes.”

“Um… yeah, sure,” said Amber, still staring at the bars. The courier bowed slightly and left.

“You see the bars on the window?” Amber muttered to Phalanx. She wasn’t sure why she was muttering, but she felt like she needed to.

“Yeah. Why?” Phalanx was talking normally.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit much? I mean, jail cells have bars on the windows, not safe houses. Rooms. Whatever.”

“They’re there to keep pegasi out of the windows.”

“Yeah, I know that, but…” Amber groaned. “Look, it’s just, I don’t like them. I feel restrained, not protected.” To scratch her paranoia itch a little more, she tried to open the window. That, at least, opened properly.

“Maybe,” said Phalanx, “but-”

Celestia chose that moment to walk in through the door. “Amber,” she said. “I trust you’re finding everything to your satisfaction?”

“Um, not quite, Your Highness,” said Amber. “I was wondering, where am I going to get my food? There’s no kitchen here or anything.”

“Your food will be delivered here to you. You won’t have to worry about that.”

“Oh. Well, um, then I guess not.”

“Perfect.” Celestia turned her attention to Phalanx. “Sergeant, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a delicate matter, and we can’t let Amber have any visitors.”

“Not even now?” Phalanx asked. “But-”

“Now.”

That wasn’t Celestia’s normal voice. It’d suddenly gained a few extra layers of command and impatience, something Amber hadn’t heard in her before. Her expression had become angry, a borderline glare. It wasn’t directed at her, and Amber still took a few steps back.

Even Phalanx flinched. “Yes, Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “See you, Amber.” A quick glance between her and Celestia, and Phalanx slowly backed out of the room.

“Can’t have any visitors?” Amber asked. Her bubbly feeling was draining out through her hooves.

“I’m sorry,” said Celestia in a voice that seemed remarkably insincere, “but we can’t risk anypony getting to you. I know you’ll be lonely, but it’s for the best if we just disallow all visits.”

“What if, what if I know them and approve them?” Amber asked, even though she already knew the answer. “Then-”

“Too risky,” said Celestia. She was starting to look angry again. “We can’t let anypony in.”

“Okay, okay,” said Amber quickly. She took a step back. “So, so am I just going to stay here, or-”

“Yes. You’ll stay here at all times. Everything you need will be provided to you, be it food or cleaning. To keep any possible assassins out, the door will be locked at all times, except when it’s necessary to enter or exit the room, such as when guards check up on you.”

The bubbly feeling was gone completely. “Locked? But-”

Celestia leaned down toward Amber. “Please,” she hissed in a way that suggested it wasn’t a request. “You’re important. You need to stay here.” This close, it felt like her eyes were burning, and her jaw was visibly clenched.

“Okay,” Amber squeaked.

Celestia stood up straight again. “I apologize for the inconvenience, but it’s in your best interests. You need to stay here. We need to keep you safe.” She left the room. Behind her, the door closed. Amber could hear a few metallic clicks as locks engaged.

Amber swallowed. Between the bars, the locks, and the last look on Celestia’s face, she’d probably feel safer back home.

14 - Interference

When you spend the whole night disobeying orders from Princess Celestia and one of the first things you get the next day is a personal summons from Princess Celestia, you tend to get a bit nervous.

Vanguard stood in the throne room, almost sweating bullets as Celestia paced back and forth before him. Off to one side, a mousey unicorn scribe stood by, ready to transcribe Celestia’s words. Vanguard wasn’t sure why the scribe was there; Celestia had never had one for situations like this before. Normally, scribes only popped up at exceptionally important events. But for all he knew, Celestia did think this was important. Which didn’t exactly bode well for him, one way or another.

After a while, Celestia stopped and said, “Perhaps I’m crazy, Captain-” (Oh, gee, you think? thought Vanguard.) “-but sometimes I fear that our relationship with the Crystal Empire is not as strong as it could be.” The scribe was already writing furiously.

Well, um, okay. Some of the anxiety left Vanguard. Some. “How so, Your Highness?” he managed to ask.

Celestia began pacing again. “It’s supposedly a part of Equestria, but when was the last time you saw a Crystal Pony? Pictures don’t count.”

“I don’t think I ever have.”

“Exactly. They’re practically segregated from us. Non-Crystal ponies mostly only head there for simple tourism. Yes, there are non-Crystals living there, but they’re in a miniscule minority. We need to reduce that sort of gap, but I can’t order citizens to move from one city to another on such flimsy circumstances.”

Why not? Vanguard thought bitterly. It hasn’t stopped you these past few days.

“But then I had an idea,” continued Celestia. “The Royal Guard is, in essence, under my command. And this is a time of relative peace, where guards merely stay at their barracks and train to pass the time, rather than fight and train because it’s needed.” A bit condescending, but technically true. “But which barracks they’re at doesn’t matter all that much, does it?”

“I… guess not.”

“So I was thinking that we take some guards from the Crystal Empire, some guards from Canterlot, and simply switch around their home bases for the time being. Rather than being stationed in the Crystal Empire or in Canterlot, they’re simply stationed in the opposite place. Temporarily, of course.”

“So, they’d be…” Vanguard tilted his head and scratched it. “…transfer soldiers? You know, like transfer students, except… not.”

Celestia nodded. “I couldn’t have said it better myself. The Crystal Guards will see Canterlot, the Canterlot Guards will see the Crystal Empire, and hopefully, communication between the two cities will be strengthened.”

That was perhaps the most reasonable idea Celestia had had in the last few days. Which wasn’t saying a whole lot, and it still wasn’t great; there’d be a lot of reworking of schedules to accommodate the new arrivals and the lack of whichever guards were leaving, but that’d just take time. On the whole, it was kind of clever; it was always a good idea to try to foster camaraderie between the services. “And when do you propose we start?”

“They’ll be here this afternoon.”

…

…What.

No, seriously. What.

No. No no no. Nonononononononono. This was not possible. This was not happening. There just wasn’t enough time t-

“Why are you looking at me like that, Captain?”

The silence broken by the scribe’s scribbling, Vanguard’s brain slowly started working again, and he laughed nervously. “S-surely you can’t be serious, Your Highness. I’ll need time to change schedules, to pick which guards here ar-”

“I chose which guards are leaving here at random. I felt it would be the best representation of Equestria’s military and the Canterlot Guard, untouched by any bias.”

“At rand-” sputtered Vanguard. “Do they know they’ll be leaving? When will they be leaving?”

“They will be informed of it today and leaving next week. Regrettably, circumstances prevented me from getting the notices out earlier, which in turn forced me to delay their transportation.”

Vanguard was dumbstruck. She couldn’t even get this synchronized right? There was a whole week between transfers? Why couldn’t she also delay the Crystal Guard transfers? And what was this crap about “getting the notices out earlier”? She’d been planning this for a while, and yet he was only learning about this now? “Your Highness, the barracks have only so much space, I don’t think we have eno-”

Celestia silenced him with a wave of her hoof. “The Crystal Guard shall stay in the royal apartments until your own stallions leave. It will get a little cramped, but they’ll manage. I had the numbers run.”

Oh, sure. Suuuure. She had enough foresight to be sure that there was enough room for the incoming guards, but couldn’t get the messages out to the guards here on time. Ha. Ha ha. HA HA HA. Good joke. It was so funny, I forgot to laugh.

Vanguard forced himself to look calm. This was a fiasco, a complete snafu, but he could tell that his protests would just get shot down by increasingly idiotic excuses. Instead, he said, “I understand. Is there anything else?” In spite of his efforts, each word came out as if it was forced from between a ringer.

“Not at the moment, no, but you can expect a message from me later in the day. Dismissed.”

Vanguard stiffly bowed and headed for the door.

“Oh, and Captain?”

Vanguard stopped, but didn’t turn to face her. He didn’t think he could do so without getting an unrestrainable urge to blast Celestia’s newly-stupid face in. “Yes?”

“I doubt this matters to you, but I had the prisoners from the invasion moved elsewhere, away from Canterlot. With the investigation dropped, I don’t want any misguided citizens attempting to administer vigilante justice.”

This just kept getting better and better. “And I assume that even I’m not allowed to know where they are?”

“I’m afraid not. Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. And I don’t want you dead.”

“I understand, milady.” That you’re a complete imbecile.

“Again, dismissed.”

Vanguard waited until she was out of earshot to start screaming.

Vanguard glared at the letter, almost willing it to burst into flames. (Almost because if he did will it, his magic would make it so.) He’d read it a dozen times over, and each time had made him more and more angry.

Captain,

Per our discussion, my selected regiment of the Crystal Guard shall be arriving by train at 3:00 this afternoon. Logically, somepony should be there to greet them and get them organized. Every little bit helps, after all. Although I leave the final decision up to you, you yourself could be there to greet them. Superior officers tend to have a way with getting the rank and file to listen. Even I know that much.

Help the Crystal Guards get to know where they’ll be staying. Even if they stay in the apartments for the next week, it is essential that they learn about their temporary homes as soon as possible. Listen to what they say and any suggestions they make. Perhaps they, as newcomers to this place, will identify problems that Canterlot Guards cannot.

My expectations are high for this. Even if nothing large comes of it, it will introduce guards on both sides to the larger world around them.

Princess Celestia

It was perhaps one of the stupidest letters he’d ever read. Vague, with pretty much no actual instructions, and maybe just a little bit patronizing. He felt like he was being treated like a colt, being told the military equivalent of “Wash behind your ears and under your tail!”

He groaned yet again and stowed the letter away as the Crystal Express pulled into the station. He had some sergeants under him to assist with getting the guards off the train and to their proper places, but… Long story short, he was not looking forward to this in the slightest.

The first Crystal Pony to step off saluted him. “Lieutenant Rampart Watch, sir,” he said. “I’m the head of these guardsponies.”

“Mmhmm. Great,” muttered Vanguard. “Form up your stallions behind those sergeants and be quick about it. I want them settled in ASAP.”

As the guards began filing out of the train, Rampart cocked his head. “Something wrong, sir?”

“No, no, not at all,” said Vanguard, his voice thick with sarcasm. “It’s just that today’s the first day I’ve heard about this.”

“To… today? You can’t be serious.”

“Can be and am.” Vanguard rubbed his head and groaned. “I’m really stressed out right now. It’s not your fault, but a word of warning all the same.”

Rampart swallowed. “Then I guess there won’t be much chance for anything resembling assignments tonight?”

“You’d have a better chance convincing a pegasus to cut off their wings,” said Vanguard, laughing bitterly. “And have you heard the details about the Canterlot Guard going to the Crystal Empire? Our beloved princess couldn’t even get the transfers synchronized.” He ground his teeth. “They won’t be moving until next week.”

“Next week,” Rampart said flatly. “That’s… that’s insane. I’d heard that there were some problems with sleeping quarters, but not like that.”

“Yeah, but are you going to tell that to Celestia? She’s…” Vanguard lowered his voice. “She’s gotten weird.”

“Weird?” Rampart stiffened and his eyes narrowed slightly. “Weird how?” A little bit of tension was creeping into his voice.

“Yeah,” said Vanguard with a nod. “Ever since the attack. I can feel it. She’s snippy is what she is. She used to be just fine with criticism as long as it was valid, but now she’s gotten… domineering. It’s more than just throwing her weight around; she’s flat-out sitting on you.”

“Celestia’s not domineering,” said Rampart slowly.

“Did you hear what I said?” Vanguard said in a long-suffering tone. “That’s how she’s getting weird.”

“M-maybe she’s just nervous. Stressed.”

“Oh, no. No no no. It’s a long story, but this is not stress. This is something else.”

Rampart blinked and shuffled his hooves a little. “So, um, are you doing anything about it?”

And that was when Vanguard turned suspicious. Just a little. Considering Celestia’s place, the assumption that he’d do anything about it — that he’d be able to do something about it — was kind of… out-of-place. Why would he do something about it? Okay, yeah, he was, but that was only because Princess Luna — Princess Luna herself — had approached him about it, and that was kind of a Big Deal. If she hadn’t, he’d just let it stew in silence.

So Vanguard didn’t answer that. Instead, he said, “Come on. You really think I could do something about it, even if I found out anything? Seriously. She’s Princess Celestia. I can’t touch her.”

“…Right.” Rampart shuffled his hooves again. “The Crystal Guards are staying in the royal apartments, right?”

“Yeah.” Vanguard managed to bite back a sigh. “I’ll show you to them. Do your stallions have any sort of arrangement for who goes where?”

“No.”

Oooooof course. “Then we’d better get that sorted out.” This is going to be fun.

“…so that’s the situation, and it sucks.”

Vanguard was back in the dreamworld, on the door path with Luna and Dupinto, pacing back and forth. He’d only been there a minute, but he really needed someone to vent to. At least they were a good audience.

“And I mean sucks, on an untold cosmic scale. I don’t know what in the blasted blue blazes she’s thinking, springing that on me like that. It’s like, come on. Just come on. You really expect me to work with all that?” Vanguard screamed in frustration and banged his head against one of the doors, which splintered into sawdust for a few seconds.

“And it’s not just me she’s hurting,” he said, going back to pacing. “This one guy, he’s got a daughter he hasn’t seen in years, and she was coming down from Seaddle in a few weeks to visit. But guess what? He’s one of the guards going to the Crystal Empire, so that’s completely shot. Honestly, that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Ah,” said Dupinto nervously. He glanced back and forth between Vanguard and Luna. “So, um, since you’re not, you know, having the best day, do you think that maybe we should, um, put this questioning off until tomorrow?”

“I’m afraid that is out of our control,” said Luna darkly. “While you were speaking, Captain, I was attempting to find the relevant dreamers, but something is blocking me.”

“Blocking?” asked Vanguard. “How could someone block you out? You’re one of the most powerful ponies in Equestria, a-”

“Dreams do not work like reality,” said Luna. “I may be the most powerful being in this realm, but there are still ways to keep me out, primarily by ensuring dreamless sleep via strong magic or simply staying awake.” She shrugged helplessly. “I cannot enter a dream if there is no dream to enter.”

“And this is… all the prisoners? And even Pennyroyal?”

Luna nodded glumly. “It is far too inconvenient to be a coincidence. Somehow, word of our talk got out.”

“But how?” said Dupinto. “It wasn’t me, and I trust you two. But the only other pony involved was Silver Tongue, and how could she say anything to anyone?”

“Unless…” Vanguard swallowed. He didn’t like where his thoughts were going. “Um, Your Highness, you said that you could read ponies’ minds, but you didn’t like to do that. Is it possible that Celestia could do it as well?”

“It is… certainly possible,” Luna said reluctantly, “but my sister would never do such a thing.”

“Yeah, see, I’m not so sure we’re dealing with Celestia anymore.” Vanguard began pacing again. “Think about it. She started going off the deep end after the attack. That gas they used did something to her. Maybe she’s being mind-controlled, maybe she’s just going crazy. But I’m positive she’s not the Celestia we know anymore.”

“The… thought had occurred to me,” mumbled Luna, “and I have somepony else investigating that. I can only hope I am wrong, but-”

“You’ve got another pony on this?” Dupinto asked. “Who? Maybe we should find them and try to work together.”

“You and she are working on two very different aspects of this,” said Luna. “I doubt either side could contribute much to the other. You two work in law enforcement. She is a political scientist. Still…” She tapped her chin. “I suppose I could give you her name, just in case. Greenback. She’s a unicorn.”

“Greenback,” repeated Dupinto. “Greenback. Got it.”

“Getting back to Celestia,” said Vanguard, “how likely do you think it is that she’s being affected in some way?” Part of him said that Luna’s views on the subject would naturally be skewed, but it would pay to get her opinion on this anyway.

“I cannot say,” said Luna, shaking her head. “It certainly would explain most of her behavior… but to what end is she working? Simply going mad can only justify so much. You said she claimed that this transfer soldier situation had been worked out previously, correct?”

Vanguard thought back. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so. She didn’t say when, but it did sound like she’d had this planned for a while. But she’d only picked the guards to go to the Crystal Empire today, and…” He paused and smacked his head. “Dangit,” he muttered, “I should’ve asked Rampart how long he’d been waiting for this. Oh, well.”

“So. Let us assume Celestia had the general idea planned out ahead of time.” Luna started pacing and her voice dropped to “thinking out loud” levels. “If some form of insanity was induced, that could explain her discrepancies in timing: she is simply not thinking straight. But if she is being controlled… what purpose would this serve? Why would someone want to bring a mass of Crystal Guards to Canterlot?” She looked up. “Captain, have these guards given you any personal problems? Issues targeted specifically at you?”

“No. There’s getting all the stuff sorted out, but nothing personal.”

“You think it might be something about the guards themselves?” Dupinto asked.

“Perhaps,” Luna said. “But we simply do not have enough information to make an accurate guess in this event. On any count.” She sighed. “I am sorry for dragging you from your rest tonight for nothing.”

“It was nothing,” said Dupinto, waving a hoof. “Not like I’m doing anything better.”

“I’m just glad I’m not dealing with problems that came from nowhere,” said Vanguard. He lowered his voice and began scowling. “Tomorrow’s gonna be fuuuuuuuuuun.”

“I wish you the best of luck, Captain,” said Luna. “Unfortunately, given the knowledge we currently possess, we cannot go any further without leaping into the realm of unjustified speculation. I do not think that we shall be meeting like this any more unless new information arises. Until then…” She bowed, and the dreamscape faded away.

15 - A Second Opinion

For a unicorn with a checkbook cutie mark, Greenback did an awful lot of political analysis.

Before getting employed by the Royal Court, she was a stockbroker, and a fine one at that. She was good at looking at the state of Equestria and finding out what might happen where, particularly in regards to bits getting pushed around. She could look at this product doing well, that road being built, the location of this year’s Equestrian Games, and recommend her client to invest in this company, because its sales were about to climb for that reason.

It were these skills that got the attention of a royal political scientist, one who did her trading with her. The Court could use someone with your skills, she’d said. But you’d need to go back to school first. So Greenback had done some thinking and, a few years of political-science-majoring and high marks later, gotten a job in the Court. She wasn’t quite as good at analyzing as stockbroking (her cutie mark wasn’t a checkbook for nothing), but fairly close. She did well and liked her job, climbing through the ranks.

By the time she hit her personal limit, she wasn’t too far from the top, but didn’t really feel like she was fitting in. Maybe she was intruding on a close-knit group, maybe she was violating some unspoken rule nopony told her about, maybe it was just because her special talent was in finances instead of politics. Whatever. Nopony was hostile, she just didn’t really interact with anypony she worked with unless it had something to do with work. But that was fine by her; Greenback was the introverted type, anyway, perfectly fine on her own.

There was one pony she talked with frequently on non-business matters, though, an excitable young pegasus named Whistler. Not much more than a janitor or all-purpose, interdepartmental lackey (it depended on the situation), Whistler seemed to have a mind too big for her head, with multiple aspects of her personality jockeying for position. Somehow, this resulted in her telling crazy conspiracy theories to anypony who’d listen, theories sometimes so off-the-wall that Greenback genuinely wondered if Whistler herself took them seriously. Since conspiracy theories weren’t exactly welcome among political scientists, most ponies just ignored her. But Greenback didn’t mind, and had said that she’d be fine listening to whatever she had to say.

“So, hey,” said Whistler, sliding into the empty bench on the other side of Greenback’s lunch break table, “you said a few days back you wanted to hear how Nightmare Moon’s banishment was faked?”

Greenback flipflopped between enjoying that decision and regretting it dearly. Fortunately, today looked like it was the former. “Sure.”

“Right, okay, so, you know how Discord, Tirek, and Sombra all happened right after one another a thousand years ago?” Whistler talked fast and liked to flap her wings as she spoke.

“A thousand’s a number used for roundness,” said Greenback through a mouthful of homemade hayburger. “It happening ‘one thousand eighty-three years ago’ or ‘nine hundred and seventeen years ago’ or whatever the exact number was doesn’t sound as nice. They weren’t as close together as each of them happening ‘a thousand years ago’ makes them sound.”

“Eh, close enough. Anyways, so, they all happen close together. So now Celestia and Luna are looking kinda incompetent. That’s a lotta bad stuff happening, you know? So one or the other of them comes up with a plan, see? Dunno which one, but ten to one says it was Luna. Anyway, so, yeah, the plan goes like this: one of them rebels against the other, who then seals the first away, even though it was-” Whistler melodramatically put a hoof over her heart. “-oh! so tragic for them. So now the remaining Princess not only looks more powerful, ‘cause they banished their supposed equal and all, but they also make it clear that they’re willing to do what has to be done for Equestria. So, boom-de-yada: they consolidate the power they already have and make the bad guys less likely to attack them, ‘cause they’ll be attacked back if they do, and you bet your rump that counterattack won’t be proportionate. So after a certain amount of time, the other gets unsealed, conveniently redeemed, and everything’s all hunky-dory again, only now the Princesses have even more power, ‘cause they’re both out. Boom.” Whistler grinned. “Nice, ain’t it?”

“Hmm.” Greenback chewed on her hayburger, attempting to look contemplative. When that didn’t work, she swallowed. “So what made you think this?”

“Well, it’s just too… too nice, if you look at it,” said Whistler, waving her hooves. “Too neat. So, first of all, how come Celestia could use the Elements of Harmony alone when she also needed Luna to use them before? And we needed six ponies to use them seventy years ago. So not only that, but how come Celestia couldn’t save Luna at first in spite of her experience, but when a group of random country ponies who don’t know what they’re doing get their hooves on Elements, they save Luna on the first try?”

“Maybe there’s something automatic or instinctive about it, kind of like how friendships just happen.”

“Eh, doubt it. So, number two: how long did it take Nightmare Moon to ‘escape’? A thousand years. To the day.” Whistler banged a hoof on the tabletop. “Yes, I checked the dates. Way too round a number. So when did Celestia banish Luna? When she refused to lower the moon to make room for the sun, so right before dawn. The Summer Sun Celebration was established a year later on the solstice. Same day of the year, so Luna first went psycho bonkers crazy on the solstice. So when did we first see that Nightmare Moon was out? When Celestia didn’t appear to raise the sun because she’d been kidnapped by Nightmare Moon, so right after ‘dawn’ during the Summer Sun Celebration — once again, solstice. So I wouldn’t be surprised if her time-out lasted a thousand years, and not a second more or less. Magic just doesn’t get that exact.”

“Said the pegasus.” Greenback released a small spark from her horn to make a point. “You can get pretty exact with magic, and I wouldn’t be surprised if alicorns can do it more.”

“So, yeah, maybe, sure, I know that, but a thousand years? Ha ha, yeah, no.” Whistler snorted, blowing a particularly long lock of hair from her eyes.

“And it wasn’t just Celestia’s magic failing, it-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, ‘the stars will aid in her escape’. So what does that mean? So are stars intelligent? So can they serve as a power source to increase her own magic? So why didn’t she use them earlier? And, still: a thousand years exactly. Too round. Totally planned.”

“And the prophecy?”

“Complete bunk. Celestia made it up so she could justify Nightmare Moon breaking out without undermining her own power. You’ll note that Predictions and Prophecies was published by the Canterlot Royal Press.”

“Hmm.” Greenback still doubted the truth of the whole thing, but it was making more sense than Whistler’s usual theories.

“So, third: the Summer Sun Celebration itself.” Whistler put on a remarkably good impersonation of Celestia. “So, my little ponies, because my beloved sister and co-ruler went and lost her marbles a year ago, and I was forced to banish her to save the world, I’m going to throw a great big party to commemorate the traumatic event! Hooray!” She raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? So you had to do something incredibly heartbreaking, and you set up an annual holiday for it? Yeah, no. Something’s up.”

“Hmm.” Greenback took a sip of water. “All right then. But Luna would’ve been alone for a millennium, trapped with the knowledge that she volunteered to act as a scapegoat for an underhoofed plot to increase her and her sister’s perceived strength. So how come the guilt and isolation didn’t drive her mad?”

Whistler laughed a little. “C’mon, think about it a bit. So, it was faked, right? So as long as no one recognized Luna, she could just interact with anypony however she liked. She was never in the moon to begin with, so that’s why she’s not psycho bonkers crazy. So they faked her appearance in the moon, too, and took it away when it was done.”

“I don’t think the Princesses can shapeshift.”

“Sure they can. So, even if Luna was banished, there’ve been a few Nightmare Nights where she’s turned into Nightmare Moon. I’ve seen it myself. So it’s probably not as complete as the changelings, but she can definitely tweak her appearance.”

“Hmm.” Greenback was somewhat dismayed to note that, when talking with Whistler, that was always the most common sentence she said.

“So not only that,” continued Whistler, “but if Nightmare Moon had been stuck in the moon for a thousand years, she would’ve gone psycho bonkers crazy, too. I mean, moreso than a pony trying to bring about eternal night already was. But the Elements supposedly acted as instant therapy for Luna — wielded, need I remind you, by a bunch of random country ponies.”

Greenback swallowed her most recent mouthful. “Fine. But why go for a thousand years? That’d be an awfully long time for Luna to live in secret. Why not a hundred? Or ten? Or fifty?”

Whistler put up a hoof dramatically, opened her mouth, and froze. She frowned and tapped her chin. “Alright,” she muttered. “So there’s not a whole lot of reason to go for a whole millennium. Dunno.” She shrugged. “Menace? Looks properly intimidating on paper. ‘A thousand’ has some oomph that ‘a hundred’ doesn’t, but it’s still long. So… oh, maybe it’s just there to look convincing.”

“What do you mean?”

“So you don’t do things by halves. So when you kick someone out for a thousand years, you know they’re serious. It’s the kind of thing that just isn’t faked because… well, really? Nopony has that kind of patience.” Whistler smiled knowingly. “Unless you’re an immortal alicorn for whom a thousand years is just a drop in the bucket.”

“Hmm.”

“So yeah. Luna didn’t really go to the moon, it was all just misdirection. So it was done so Celestia and Luna could gather more power.” Whistler smiled.

“Hmm.” Greenback swallowed the last of her sandwich and glanced at a clock. “Listen, lunch break’s almost over, I gotta get back to work. Nice talking with you.” It actually was. Whistler was nothing if not entertaining.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Whistler zipped away.

Tossing her trash into a trash can, Greenback headed back to her office, thinking of her work. The griffon military was slightly more active than usual. The problem was finding out if it was anything to be worried about. The Griffon Kingdom was a bit more militaristic than Equestria, had been ever since the Griffonstone Renaissance had petered out almost thirty years ago, but the two had never risked going to war. That might change, and it was her job to find out. Greenback felt confident she could do it, as long as she had no distractions.

She pushed open the door to her office to find Luna waiting patiently inside.

“Um…” Greenback gulped. “Hello, Your Majesty.” She dropped into a bow. What’d I do? WHAT’D I DO?

“Do not be worried,” Luna said as Greenback stood back up. “I simply have a special assignment for you.” The door closed behind Greenback and Luna gestured towards Greenback’s chair. “Please. Take a seat.”

Greenback nervously sat down. What was Luna doing here? What was Luna, not Celestia, doing here? She’d never met the Princesses in person. She got her assignments from an in-between. So now, having one in her office, Greenback was almost sweating.

Luna noticed. “Please, calm yourself. This has nothing to do with you personally. I simply have an… issue I wish to look into. I…” Luna flicked her ears and her voice got slightly quieter. “I do not think my sister is in her right mind.”

That might’ve been even worse. Celestia potentially going gaga was not something Greenback wanted to think about. But if Luna thought so, that wasn’t a good sign. Greenback swallowed. “How so, Your Highness?”

“Ever since the attempt on her life,” said Luna, “her behavior has been erratic, seemingly determined to stymie all examination of those responsible. I cannot imagine the reason why, but to all appearances, she is trying to hide something. If reasonably possible, I would like you to dig into her actions over the past week and see if my fears are at all founded.”

Um, okay. Wow. This… this was big. Did digging up dirt on one of the diarchs count as treason if the other diarch was the one who ordered it?

“However, given the nature of this assignment,” continued Luna, “I’m afraid that you cannot do it on normal time. If my suspicions are right, and if Celestia were to find out about you…” She was silent for a moment. “Your work must be done in private. Try to leave as small a paper trail as possible. Based on your qualifications, I think you are the best mare for this particular job.” (Greenback was flattered, at least.) “You can turn the job down, if you so desire, and I shall find someone else to work with. But I hope this is within your abilities.” She was holding it back quite well, but Luna was looking a bit desperate.

Greenback cocked her head, thinking quickly. Naturally, it’d all depend on what she found, but if it went the way she thought it would go- “Yeah. I think I can do that.”

“Thank you,” Luna said with a sigh of relief. “I understand if you cannot find anything, but I hope that is not the case. Good day.”

She teleported out of the room. She must’ve really been working on keeping this secret.

Greenback slumped down in her chair, already feeling beat. She’d never done something like this before. Previously, she’d always been given some facts and told to find something out about them. Finding the facts themselves had never been her aim. She’d never actually investigated; that was what interns were for. And with Luna’s plea for secrecy, she couldn’t exactly bring them in. This could be tricky.

Then the gears started shifting in her head, and Greenback sat back up. But this wasn’t all that different from stockbroking, right? If you tilted your head, squinted a little, and looked through a foggy mirror. She’d be the one finding out facts then. Now, she just had a wider net she had to trawl through. This could be tricky, but it was definitely doable.

She could do this.

So, where to start? That was easy: follow the money. Everybody knew that money talked, Greenback especially so. If you did something — anything — money was involved. And with an entire country at her hooftips, Celestia would be working with the country’s money. Greenback would start at the treasury.

Later. Right now, she had her own job to do.

When you were a political analyst for the Royal Court, treasurers didn’t question you much when you said you needed this or that. It helped that, since she was a former stockbroker, she’d often be the one to look into financial matters and went there a lot as part of her current job. Everypony recognized her and authorized her rather large request without much thought. (Which was probably violating some protocol, but oh well.)

Financial matters were complicated things, but Greenback knew how to dissect them. In particular, as part of keeping track of the budget, the court had daily papers showing its expenses. For internal use only, but Greenback was internal. She walked away from the treasury with several pounds of papers and tables and charts and what have you. Everything from the past week. It’d take a while to look through, but she had time.

Greenback’s house was a bit on the small side, but she was fine with that. She didn’t need much company, anyway. Besides, what really made this house special to her was the room in the back: a good-sized study with plenty of space for bookshelves, tables, filing cabinets, and whatever else she’d need to work. She had a bit of everything, including plenty of maps of Equestria and the surrounding lands. When she needed to visualize something, she’d often break out the maps and draw on them with a marker. The study wasn’t anything particularly amazing, as far as studies went, but Greenback had worked from there long enough that it felt like her home within home.

With no big political developments recently, the study was currently in its “clean” state, with the floor visible. In all likelihood, that would soon change. Greenback plonked her mass of paperwork on her desk and lit a lamp to work by.This shouldn’t be too hard, she thought, pulling out the first set of papers. There probably aren’t even any diff-

-holyschlamolythat’salottagems.

Greenback blinked, shook her head a few times to clear it just in case, and looked at the tables again. She was seeing it right: the amount of gems in the treasury had skyrocketed, almost tripling in the past few days. But before that, everything regarding gems was constant.

Hmm.

Well. At least Luna probably had a point about Celestia being out of whack.

So, first things first: what the hay could Celestia need with all those gems? Greenback tapped her hoof on the table a few times, thinking, before pulling out another paper, also treasury-related. And… no, gem expenditure hadn’t increased significantly since… ever, really. Gems weren’t exactly difficult to find, if you knew where to look, and so weren’t especially valuable (except to dragons, who somehow ate the darn things). Not that Greenback was expecting anything here; it’d be too easy. As she was thinking this, she used her magic to multitask, writing down her thoughts on a blank sheet of paper. Always good to keep notes handy.

Stockpiling, maybe? Hmm. ...Possible, but unlikely. Gems weren’t projected to run out anytime soon, and working the miners faster (assuming that’s where the gems were coming from, but first things first) would only make them run out faster. They might be used as a source of extra bits, but putting this many into circulation would only cause their value to plummet, and then some. The treasury had plenty to put a select few here and there out when need be, but that was only a semi-last resort.

And it wasn’t like Celestia didn’t know this; she’d kept admirable control over the treasury for a loooooooong time. By now, gems were most often given away as shiny political gifts. She definitely wasn’t the kind to throw around gems willy-nilly like this.

But what practical purpose could all those gems serve? Fashion, sure, but there wasn’t a “Fashion Designer for the Royal Treasury” position, least of all one who was obsessed with sparkly stuff. (At least not as far as Greenback knew.) And there just wasn’t a whole lot else you did with gems.

Hmm.

Thinking she missed something, Greenback looked back at the report and-

Hold on.

Hold on hold on wait waitaminute.

She’d just assumed the gems were high-quality ones, but looking again, at lot of them were average or mediocre. Not really any rhyme or reason to their assortment, either. Random amounts of each type every day they came in. It was like Celestia was hoarding gems just for the sake of hoarding gems.

Well, if she’s been replaced by a shapeshifting dragon, that’ll make my final report to Luna interesting.

Or maybe what Celestia wanted wasn’t the gems themselves, but something involved in getting them. Just because you dug up a lot of dirt to lay a pipe didn’t mean you wanted that dirt. But what? What would require excavating that many gems?

And, more importantly, why was she keeping them? If the gems were just in the way, they’d be discarded, left around for someone else to find. But, no, Celestia was holding onto the gems. Like the gems themselves were important.

Or, Greenback realized in a flash, their lack elsewhere. Celestia might not be excavating gems, but stealing them. Or “expropriating” them, if she was using eminent domain or some other law. But who could possibly be missing that many gems? She’d practically have to go around every single family in Equestria to get all that. And then some.

Which left another question: why? Assuming Celestia was taking them from their rightful owners, what purpose would that serve? That’d only get their owners angry. Or would it? With gems as easy to get as they were, the owners might just be annoyed, since it wouldn’t take that long to replace them. Unless they wanted the gems taken off their hands for whatever reason. But then why did they still have them, when they could just dump them in the trash or something?

Greenback rubbed her eyes and glanced at the clock. Late. She needed to get to bed. Maybe she could get up early tomorrow to get some more work done on this before she headed in for her “actual” job; it all depended on how she felt. She looked down at her notes thus far:

LOTS of gem acq.
- Why?
- Spend
- Gifts? bad qlty
- Stckpl?
- Neg space?
- Whr from?
- Who?
- How? Theft/em dom?

Not much, but she had a place to start with for tomorrow: where were they coming from? So, get a look at treasury shipping manifests, maybe, she told herself. She arranged her papers a little and blew out the lamp.

8 - Take the A Train

Phalanx remembered the route back to Amber’s house well enough that he was in the lead. And fortunately for him, Ida was one of those ponies that could run and talk, filling him in on everything. “So,” he said to Ida, “you didn’t see them come in? Amber just saw them already inside and bolted?”

“I think so, yeah,” said Ida. Her voice was panting a little, but not as much as Chandra or Kalahari were. “How d’you think they found us? Luck?”

“I don’t know,” said Phalanx, sliding to a halt in front of Amber’s door. “But right now, we just need to get away from yipe!” He ducked under the saddlebag sailing out of the door.

Amber stuck her head out the door, grinning nervously and talking fast. “Hey! You know what’s a bad idea? Being here!” She ducked back inside and another saddlebag flew out. “You know what’s a great idea?” she yelled from inside. “Getting on the train to Ponyville right now!”

“Already?” asked Phalanx, ducking another bag. “It’s already that late?”

“Not quite, but I sure as hay am not going to sit here and wait for them to come get me!”

“So you’re going to sit on the train instead?” asked Kalahari, catching up and panting a little. She didn’t duck in time, and the last bag smacked her in the face.

“Well, then, I’m there, aren’t I?” said Amber. She trotted out of her house with bags of her own. Giving one last look inside, she slammed the door shut and locked it. “And you’ll be with me so things won’t be that bad because I’ll have some more people to protect me.” She raced down her front steps and was a considerable distance down the street before she realized no one else was following her. She turned back. “So are we going or not?” She was jittery, jumping in place a lot and flicking her ears and tail.

“We’re going,” Phalanx said before anyone else could. “If we’ve been followed, I’d rather be caught on the train than off it.”

“Heh heh. Great,” said Amber in a rather high-pitched voice. “Come on, then.”

The pace Amber moved at was breakneck, and it was all Phalanx could do to keep her from losing the rest of the group entirely. By the time everyone had arrived at the station, Amber had already bought their tickets and dropped her bags in the last car.

“Come on come on come on come on come on,” she said to nopony in particular as she jumped in place outside the door. She glanced up and down the station platform. “I don’t want to be outside any more than I have to.” She shot back inside and ducked below the windows.

As he carried his bags inside, Phalanx sighed. Was this all worth it? Amber was just so jumpy, it was possible that any testimony from her would be useless, her memories corrupted by her own nervousness. And even if that wasn’t the case, how much could she have seen? Would there really be anything in there that would be all that useful?

Still, he’d said he’d bring her back. He was going to bring her back.

He got into a seat normally, but Amber poked him the leg from her spot on the floor. “Hey,” she whispered. “You, you probably don’t want to sit like that. They’ll see you through the windows.” She glanced around the carriage; it was empty except for the rest of their group. “The rest of you, too.”

Phalanx shifted in the seat and bent down. “Really?” he asked skeptically. “You think that they’ll happen to come by the train station and happen to look in and see us?”

“Yes,” said Amber. “They found me at the Teal Trotter so they know it’s likely I live around there and that narrows down their search area a whole lot and they saw that I was real nervous and they know I won’t want to stick around and the train’s the fastest way out so they’ll come to the station to watch out for me and if they don’t see me on the platform they’ll look in the train and if I’m down below they won’t see me so yes they will happen to come by the train station and happen to look in and see me if I’m up and I don’t know if they saw the rest of you but do you really want to take that chance?”

There was a second of silence before Chandra scurried under her own seat. “She’s got a point,” she said.

And Amber did. Phalanx didn’t like to admit it, but that was actually some pretty solid logic. He almost ducked down himself, following Kalahari and Ida in doing so. But still, it seemed like overkill. And Phalanx didn’t want to be stuck under a seat for the last… (he glanced at a clock) nine minutes until the train left.

An excuse for being up presented itself. “If you’re that nervous,” he said to Amber, softening his voice a little, “I’ll scout out the platform until the train leaves, alright? Keep an eye out for anypony suspicious.”

“S-sure, okay,” said Amber. “Just don’t get seen.” She didn’t look like it was okay, still curled up beneath her seat, but Phalanx was going to take what he could get.

He left the car for the platform and immediately began scanning the crowd. Looking for suspicious ponies was partially an excuse to get up, yes, but it was partially also a genuine sentiment. If he could pick out anypony that was Up to Something, he could either just avoid them until the train left or, if they followed him on board, catch them and grill them for information.

Assuming they were alone, of course. If they had company, that might prove a bit more awkward. Both ways, for that matter.

But that was something he’d get to later. As Phalanx looked across the platform, he couldn’t see anything suspicious, but that didn’t mean much. He started meandering towards the front of the train, trying to get a better look at the assembled ponies. He watched for some of the obvious signs, particularly staring at the train, but couldn’t see anything.

He reached the front of the train, turned around, and noticed something he hadn’t seen before: a mare was talking with the lieutenant of the guards at the station. Rampart Watch? Yeah, that was his name. Phalanx didn’t recognize the mare, but since most ponies tended to just ignore guards, it struck him as a bit odd.

He didn’t change his pace as he walked towards them, but they broke off their conversation before he could get close enough to hear what they were saying. The mare left the platform, and Rampart went back to watching the crowd.

Phalanx didn’t see anything else as he made his way back to the carriage. “Nothing,” he said to Amber. “I think we’re in the clear, but I’ll watch the door to be safe.” After a moment’s thought, he reluctantly slid below the level of the windows.

“Good,” said Amber. Her smile wasn’t the biggest, but she was breathing a bit more slowly. “That’s part of the reason I picked this car. Because it’s the back and if it’s the back they can’t come from the back because you can’t go further back than the back so they have to come from the front and that way it’s easier to see them coming when they’re only coming from one direction so it’s easier to def-”

“Hey,” said Chandra, lightly touching one of Amber hooves, “calm down. We’re doing fine. Don’t worry, you’ll be okay.”

Phalanx sat and waited, occasionally poking his head over the window to steal a quick glance at the station (he never saw anything), until the whistle blew and the train lurched out of the station. All the time, he slowly grew more and more impatient. He didn’t like the waiting to begin with, and now he had to wait for hours to get back to Ponyville.

But a little while into the trip, as he was watching a forest rush by, something began nagging at him. It was a tiny feeling, but it was definitely there. He’d had that feeling before; sometimes it was wrong, sometimes it was right, but it never hurt to scratch at it. He didn’t know what was causing it, but he knew how to make it go away.

He glanced at Amber, who was fidgeting in one of the back corners. Their group of five was still the only ones in the car; Kalahari had her muzzle buried in a book, while Chandra and Ida were talking about something. Phalanx got up and walked over to Amber, nudging her on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Amber flinched a little, but she turned to him and tried a little smile. It almost came out. “Hey.”

“I think I should do some scouting in the train,” he said at the same time she said, “I think you should do some scouting in the train.”

They blinked at almost the same time. Phalanx opened his mouth to ask what made her say that, but immediately knew what would happen and closed it again.

“What makes you say that?” asked Amber. “Or, or do you have a bad feeling about this, too?”

“The second, yeah,” said Phalanx, nodding. He looked over his shoulder at the front of the car. “It’s, I don’t know. I don’t like the quiet.”

“Heh, great,” muttered Amber. She giggled a little. “On the one hoof, yay! It’s not just me! But on the other, crap. It’s not just me.”

“I know the feeling. I’ll be going, then. I should be back in… ten minutes, I think. It’s not exactly a big train.”

“No, not, not really.” Amber pulled herself together tightly. “Be careful, alright?”

I’m a royal guard. I’ve been doing this sort of thing for years. What makes you think I won’t be careful? But Phalanx didn’t want to Amber think he was being dismissive of her, so he said, “Of course.” He turned and set off to the next car.

The wind between the cars surprised him a little; this was one of those older trains that lacked conduits between cars and instead had a running board at the end of each carriage. The wind from the train was pulled into the gap and whipped up further by the narrow space. And when you opened or closed the door, it created a draft anyone in the car could hear. No luck in hiding in silence, then.

He changed his gait a little, trying to make it look like he was just stretching his legs. He kept his eyes forward; if anyone looked at him, he wouldn’t look like he was looking at them. He “glanced” around with his peripherals as he tried to pick out any suspicious behavior.

But he didn’t have any luck. The train wasn’t all that full, and the ponies that were there were either staring out the windows, talking with someone else, or reading. Nothing to suggest any sort of subversive behavior.

That did nothing to stop the nagging. If anything, it only made it worse. Phalanx kept walking down the train and kept looking.

And then he reached a car with a locked door. He frowned, jiggled it a little to make sure it wasn’t just stuck, but no, it was definitely locked. He banged his hoof on the door, then pressed his ear to it. Nothing.

The door opened just as he pulled his head away. A conductor in an ill-fitting uniform stuck her head out of the gap. “Yes?” she asked, annoyed. “This is the baggage car. Passengers aren’t allowed in here.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Phalanx. Well, duh. What else could it have been? Stupid. “I didn’t know. I was just taking a walk, and… I-I’ll be going now.” He turned back down the train.

He was just closing the door in the passenger car when the conductor spoke up again. “Hold up. You a royal guard? You look like one.”

“Yeah,” Phalanx said, half-cautiously. “Why?”

The conductor coughed. “Eh, no reason.” She closed the door to the baggage car again.

Phalanx blinked and stared at the door, something nagging at him. He’d learned a long time ago that “no reason” often meant “no reason I want you to know about”. But sometimes it did mean “no reason”, and the hard part was figuring out which was which.

He decided it was the latter; she didn’t seem that surprised to see him. Still, just in case, he’d keep a close watch on the forward door of their group’s car.

But as he started back towards the end of the train, he still felt like something was wrong, both with the conductor and the apparent lack of thieves on the train. PROBABLY no one here. I’ve combed these few cars and not seen them. They could be on the train, but they’d still need to come down thi-

Phalanx’s thoughts were interrupted by a faint clopping. Hooves on metal, and they seemed to be getting closer. He glanced back up the hall, but he couldn’t see anypony moving. The few ponies he did see were either trying to get a few winks in or staring out the windows. But the sound was definitely getting closer, almost like they were nearly on top of him.

And, now that he thought about it, something was off about its direction. It was like…

…they were on the roof.

Phalanx bolted for the rear door. Of course they’d be on the roof. Who else went on the roof of a train? As he ran, he listened closely. It sounded like they were just above him. As he passed to the next car, Phalanx looked up as the shadow of another pony leapt over the gap between the two cars’ roofs. It didn’t look like they had seen him. Which meant…

Phalanx kept his pace as best he could and spread his wings. As soon as he reached the gap between the next two cars, he swept them down, leaping up to the roof of the second car, hoping to catch the other pony mid-jump.

Phalanx’s head hit the pony hard in the chest, and their combined momentum carried them across to the next roof in a tumble. Stars swam in Phalanx’s vision; he instinctively flapped his wings to try to slow himself down, but in the wind of the train, that just made things worse.

At first. After a moment, Phalanx managed to get his bearings in spite of the rolling. The other pony -- a unicorn stallion -- almost managed to pin him down, but Phalanx angled his wings enough to scoop himself up, keep rolling, and pin the unicorn instead. He bit down on the end of the unicorn’s tail and bodily swung the unicorn around. By chance, the improvised flail hit another unicorn behind him as Phalanx let go, and the two were thrown from the train, smashing through tree branches with yelps.

A few ponies were on the roof of the car, braced against the wind. Four of them, all looking quite surprised to see him. Except for the one in front. An unicorn mare with a bleached-yellow coat, she seemed more than happy to see him, in the same way a hawk is happy to see a struggling mouse. “Hey there,” she yelled. “Nice jump.”

Phalanx snorted, his ears back. Keeping his wings angled to push him against the roof, he began slowly walking backwards -- not from intimidation, but to head towards the back of the train while keeping his eyes forward.

“Quiet one, are ya?” she smirked. “Look, you know why I’m here. I know why you’re here. Why don’t you just step aside and let us be on our way? You don’t need to get hurt. I’d haaaaate that.” Her broad smile suggested she didn’t.

She’s delaying, Phalanx thought. But delaying for what? Ponies going inside the cars, probably. He needed to get back to Amber and the others; for all he knew, they were being attacked already. He jumped a little, flared his wings, and the wind whipped him towards the back of the train.

There was a flash, and the unicorn was gone. Phalanx knew what that meant. He re-angled his wings and the wind slammed back onto the roof of the train, his hooves grinding against the metal. Before he stopped, he pivoted around and was face-to-face with the mare again.

Surprised, she tried to throw up a shield, but Phalanx swept his wings back, lunging forward and smashing through the shield. He and the mare fell to the ground in a tangle, but he quickly gained the upper hoof and pinned her down, one leg on her chest and another on her neck, his wings beating for extra downforce. Phalanx shoved her head against the roof, hoping the disorientation would keep her from teleporting away.

He glanced back down the train. The ponies that had been there were nowhere to be seen, probably back inside the train. Crap. But as long as he had this mare here…

“Who are you?” Phalanx yelled at her. “What do you want?”

The mare squirmed, but she couldn’t break out of Phalanx’s hold. She grinned. “Oh, come on. Not yet. Not before Pennyroyal makes his move.”

Phalanx froze. He knew that name. Most everypony in Equestria knew that name. Did she really mean-

The mare blinked and, as she realized she’d said too much, her grin was replaced with an expression of horror. She began fighting harder, lashing out with all her legs. One of them caught Phalanx right in the ribcage. Phalanx gasped and reflexively recoiled as he closed his wings. It was enough for the mare to break free and bolt down the train.

Phalanx fought to regain his breath as he followed her. He flapped his wings, gained on her, tackled her again, pinned her again. He was about to ask another question when a sound broke through the wind of the train: ding ding ding-

Signal, screamed his mind. No time to look; he jumped as best he could, using his wings for a little extra oomph, drawing his legs as close to his body as he could, hoping the overhead signal would pass right ben-

The steel frame caught his left rear hoof. Sheer speed twisted it in ways hooves weren’t to twist, and the resistance spun Phalanx in the air as he descended. His head smashed against the roof of the train; stars began appearing in his vision. It was hard to say which hurt more, his entire spine or his hoof.

The mare was up already, standing over him like some sort of predatory bird; either the signal had gone right over her or she had teleported just beyond it. “You know,” she said, “I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got places to be.”

And with that, she pushed Phalanx off the train and vanished.

His head was spinning like mad, but all that guard training wasn’t for nothing, and Phalanx recovered almost immediately, pumping his wings to hold his altitude and match the train’s speed. Throwing a pegasus off any sort of cliff was a stupid thing to do, but overconfidence could do that to you.

He didn’t go anywhere, but simply blinked the stars away and dodged trees until his head was clear. Amber. They were going after Amber. Rear car.

Phalanx flared his wings, billowing to a stop relative to the ground. Once the rear car passed him, he picked up speed again and began scanning the windows.

Ida hadn’t paid much attention when Phalanx left. He most likely had something to do that she wouldn’t particularly care about. Maybe he was just restless.

But after a while, Amber suddenly became a bit more jittery. At first, Ida paid it no mind -- that was just Amber -- but when she started pacing, and pacing loudly, it became hard to ignore. “Somethin’ wrong?” Ida asked, breaking off her conversation with Chandra.

Amber took a few deep breaths. “Phalanx left a while ago to check out the train and if there’s anypony else on it that we don’t want and he said he’d be back in ten minutes and that sounded good to me but it’s been twelve minutes and he’s not back yet and I’m wondering i-”

“If somethin’s wrong?” Ida asked. Amber nodded, and Ida couldn’t help but sigh. “Look, Amber, I get that you’d be a mite concerned ‘bout him. But think about it: he’s a Royal Guard. D’you really think that there’s goin’ to be somethin’ that he can’t handle?”

“Maybe,” said Amber. She pawed at the ground. “I, I mean, like, what if, what if he has found something? That, that wouldn’t be good. Not at all.”

Chandra and Ida exchanged glances. “D’you want me to go lookin’ for him?” asked Ida.

Amber nodded vigorously. “If, if you would.” She grinned for maybe half an instant before trying to smooth her hair down with her hooves. “It’s just, I’m sure you’re right, but this, this isn’t my best time.”

“You want me to come with?” Chandra asked.

Ida shook her head. “Nah, I’ll be fine. You can stay here with Amber.” She glanced at Kalahari, who hadn’t taken her nose from her book since the train started moving. “And Kal, but I don’t think she’d noticed.”

“Alright,” said Chandra. She lowered her voice so Amber couldn’t hear. “Good luck.”

Ida nodded and set off down the train. Who knew, Amber might be right. She was jumpier than usual, but she had been right about the thieves being after her, a-”

Right at the end of the last car and the start of the next, she literally bumped into an Earth stallion heading towards the back of the train. He was gray, kind of a slate color, and had this weird short, spiky manecut Ida had sworn she’d seen before. He was big, almost a foot taller than Ida.

“Sorry,” Ida said, brushing herself off. “My fault.”

“Apology accepted,” the stallion said, smiling in a way that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Hey, is there a dark tannish Crystal Pony back there? I’m looking for her.”

Ida’s skin crawled. Amber was right, she thought. She stalled, flicking an ear with a hoof as if she was thinking. “Erm… I don’t think so,” she said. “How come?”

“I’m a friend of hers.” The stallion didn’t try to get around Ida, but the twitching in his knees said he really wanted to. “She… went for a walk a while back, and I’m just making sure she’s okay.”

A test blinked into Ida’s head. “Why don’t I check ‘round for you?” she asked. “Just go on back to wherever, and I’ll see if I can find her. What’s her name?”

The stallion laughed, but it was stiff, hollow. “No need to concern yourself with that. I can manage on my own.”

“What’s her name?”

The stallion blinked and narrowed his eyes. “She’s back there,” he hissed. He looked over his shoulder and yelled, “She’s ba-”

As soon as the stallion looked back, Ida turned around and planted her front hooves against the running board. Before he could complete the sentence, she’d bucked him right in the chest.

Ida had grown up doing good, hard, back-straining manual labor a good chunk of her life. She’d grown up with two older brothers and an older sister who liked to tussle with her a lot. She was no stranger to any sort of intense physical activity. A large chunk of her daily chores could easily be considered exercise, from plowing the fields to carrying heavy buckets of apples to simply hoisting hay bales up and down from the loft of the barn. And it was all topped off with being an Earth pony.

Ida was strong.

The stallion went flying half the length of the car and slid the remainder, hitting his head against the door. The two or three other passengers in the car jumped their seats and huddled against the walls, their gazes flicking back and forth between Ida and the stallion. He was snarling and picking himself up. “You little punk,” he hissed. “Hand her over and you won’t get hurt.”

“I ain’t the one who’s hurtin’!” yelled Ida. “You ain’t gettin’ back here!” She wanted to charge him, to plow him through every single door on the train, but that’d take her too far away.

The stallion rolled his neck, producing some impressive cracks, and began creeping forward. The remaining passengers took that opportunity to bolt towards the front of the train. “Just step aside,” he growled. His ears were back and he began pawing at the floor.

Ida lowered herself, getting as stable a stance as she could. “Make me, you lily-livered-”

The stallion roared. Actually roared. He was probably trying to be intimidating, but to Ida, it was just silly. What wasn’t silly was his sudden charge. He was big, faster than he’d seemed, and he’d bowl right through Ida, even braced as she was.

But charging like that meant he’d made a mistake: his head was forward and down. And while his mane was short, it was plenty long enough for an idea that popped into Ida’s head.

She charged him, and in the confined space, the two met in barely a second. Right before they actually collided, Ida jumped up, just enough to get over him. As he passed under her, she craned her head down and bit down on his mane.

Locked together by Ida’s death grip of a bite, their heads stayed in one place while their bodies kept moving. Ida twisted in the air, getting her hooves under her and almost landing gracefully. No such luck for the stallion; his legs flew out from under him and he landed hard on his back. Before he could do anything more than flail ineffectually, Ida -- still holding him by the mane -- wrenched him up into the air and slammed him back down. He stopped moving.

Which was good, because a pair of hooves slammed into Ida from the side: a partner of the stallion. A unicorn mare drop-kicked her and she was thrown down the car.

Ida managed to get to her hooves before she stopped moving. She skidded to a halt and charged at the mare, trying to make it harder for her to use magic.

The mare didn’t seem particularly interested in magic and didn’t even try it. She seemed to stand her ground until Ida hit her. At the moment of impact, the mare twisted, changed the motion of the charge, turned it into a roll. She wound up on top of Ida, but before she could do any pinning, Ida thrust out with her rear legs and bucked her in the chest. It wasn’t the strongest, but it’d have to do.

The mare bounced off a bench and shattered the glass in the adjacent window, but didn’t fall all the way out. In a panic, she stuck out her forelegs, catching one on each side of the window. After a second to catch her breath, she yanked herself back in and plopped down on the bench.

At the same time, Ida got her hooves under the bench and lifted it up with all her might, wrenching the bolts straight out of their sockets through sheer strength and levering the mare out the window. Her obscenities were audible for several seconds as she bounced down the track before the train left her behind.

“Not bad.”

Ida whirled at the sound. Rhea. The unicorn she’d bucked the orange juice at. She was standing in the doorway, watching the whole thing with the attention of someone who’s found a mildly interesting TV show. She was grinning, but it was brittle.

Ida charged her, but bounced off a shield of Rhea’s. Rhea made no move to walk forward. “And, you know,” she said, “props for that whole thing back in the Crystal Empire, much as I hate to admit it. Brave. Stupid, but brave.”

Ida braced herself again. “What do you want?”

Rhea kept grinning. “The Crystal Pony, obviously.” Her grin dropped and a bolt of magic sent Ida flying back into the rear car.

Everyone looked up and gasped. As Ida got to her hooves, Amber scrambled to the observation deck. Another blast entered the car; Ida ducked and it sailed clear out the back.

Kalahari was at Ida’s side and maybe a little behind. “Isn’t she from the tavern?” she muttered.

“Yeah,” said Ida.

Rhea strode into the car. “I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again,” she said. “We only want the Cry-”

She was cut off as she ran into a suddenly-conjured shield. Sparks flew and she staggered back, one hoof to her face, now singed with a few small, black marks. She didn’t say anything or scream so much as angrily verbalize phonemes.

Ida looked to one side; Chandra was next to her, her brows furrowed in concentration as her horn glowed. Ida nodded her appreciation, which Chandra returned.

Taking a step forward, Rhea tapped the shield experimentally. There was another spark; she yanked her hoof back, shaking it, and breathed in sharply through slightly clenched teeth. “Impressive,” she said to Chandra. Her own horn began glowing. “But I’ll be much easier on you if you just drop it.”

“If you want to get to her,” said Chandra, “you’ll ha-”

Rhea sighed. “I know this one. I’ll have to go through you. But is that really the smartest thing to say to someone who can and will go through you?”

Chandra’s eyes went wide and she gulped. But she didn’t move and she didn’t drop the shield.

Rhea grinned again. “Look,” she said, “we don’t need to make this difficult. Jus-”

And then Phalanx torpedoed through a window and into her, sending her flying out the window on the opposite side.

Phalanx flared his wings as he slid to a stop on the floor, panting and holding one of his legs awkwardly off the ground, and turned to Ida. “Hey. She’s a bad guy.”

Ida nodded dumbly. “I notisweet Celestia why’s your leg bleedin’ like that?”

“Hmm?” Phalanx looked at his leg; a large portion of skin had been torn away and blood was dripping onto the floor. “Oh. That. I twisted my leg on an overhead signal.” He tapped it and winced. “Didn’t notice it was bleeding, though.” Considering the extent of the damage, his voice sounded like someone commenting on their coffee being a bit weak.

In the doorway, another unicorn charged forward, screaming some sort of war cry. She had only taken four steps when Phalanx tripped her, jumped on her, and pinned her to the ground. “You were the conductor,” he hissed. “Where’s the real one? Did you kill her?”

The mare tried to kick, but there was a burst of magic from Chandra, and all four legs were pinned to the ground by glowing manacles. The mare struggled weakly, then went limp. “No. Knocked her out,” she said. “Didn’t want blood on the uniform.”

With her hooves secured, Phalanx stepped off her and pressed his nose to hers. “What are you doing? What’s your plan?”

The mare grinned. “You really think it’s that easy? I’ll never te-”

Phalanx kicked her in the head. Hard. Her eyes rolled back into unconsciousness. “Then I have no use for you,” he muttered.

Ida swallowed. “You think that mighta been a little… much?”

“I’d rather have her be unconscious than probably shouting insults at us,” said Phalanx, shrugging. “I’ve seen her type. They don’t give up information for anything, so why bother trying?”

Ida swallowed again. “If you say so.”

Phalanx limped over to the door. After a quick look-around, he closed it and planted his front hooves against it. “There’ll probably be more coming. We ne-”

“Idea,” said Kalahari. “Chandra, can you detach the seats from the floor?”

Chandra crouched down next to her seat. “On it.” With a soft glow of magic, the bolts began unscrewing.

“Barricade?” Phalanx asked.

Kalahari nodded. “Barricade.”

Once the seat was up, Kalahari and Ida dragged it to the door while Chandra worked on the next one. It wasn’t long before almost every seat in the car was piled in front of the door and completely blocking it off. With a little more magic, Chandra twisted some the seats apart and intertwined them with each other to make the pile a little bit stronger.

Surveying the barricade, Phalanx nodded. “Not bad. That should be…” His voice trailed off, his eyes went wide, and he started looking frantically around the room. “Where’s Amber?”

“Here!” Amber squeaked from the observation deck. She waved a hoof from around the doorjamb, then slowly walked back inside. “I’m, I’m okay. Are they gone?”

Phalanx nodded, jerking his head at the barricade. “We’re safe for now, but that won’t last forever. It’s only a matter of time before a unicorn blows the whole thing to shreds or a pegasus just flies around it.”

“C-can we last to Ponyville?” whispered Amber.

“I don’t know,” said Phalanx. “Probably if I was fine, but…” He lifted up his leg a little and winced.

Ida frowned. “Well, they ain’t been too hard to fight so far. How many of them’re out there?”

Phalanx squinted through a crack in their barricade. “Not much, but more are coming by the minute,” he said. “Mostly unicorns and pegasi; they’re probably teleporting and flying on. They’re going to keep coming, and if they break through here, we’re dead, because I do-”

“We need to jump,” Amber said. She said it quietly, like it was mostly for herself.

“Jump off the train?” said Kalahari, agape. “You- you can’t be serious. At this speed, we-”

“Not to the ground,” Amber whispered loudly. “I know the route and there’s a bridge coming up in like a minute and it’s over a wide river and we should be safe to jump into that and get away from these ponies and-”

“With my leg twisted and more ponies gathering outside,” said Phalanx, still looking out, “that’s probably the least unwise course of action.” He turned to Amber. “How soon?”

“Not more than two minutes,” she said. “I know the turns and we’re getting close to it.”

“We’re jumping,” said Phalanx. “Everypony get your bags.”

Kalahari stepped in front of him. “Wait, wait, you actually think this is a good idea?”

“It’s not a good idea,” snapped Phalanx. “It’s a bad idea. But it’s also the least bad idea. Believe me, if you have a better idea, I would love to hear it.”

Kalahari didn’t say anything.

“Get your bags,” he repeated. He pressed his head back up against the barricade. “Ida, take a look out, see if you can see the bridge Amber’s talking about.”

Ida trotted to a window, opened it up, and pushed her head out into the wind. The sun was getting low in the sky, but there was still enough to see by. She squinted up the tracks. They were going through a long, wide curve, so she could make out some of the land ahead more easily.

She saw it. Not too far ahead, the track crossed a wide river, the bridge low over the water. They could jump.

She pulled her head back in. “I see it,” she said. “It ain’t that bad, and it’s plenty wide, but we’re gonna have to be snappy ‘bout it, ‘cause it’s comin’ up fast.”

Amber giggled a little. “See? Told you.”

“Right, everyone on the observation deck,” said Phalanx. “Make a line. Everypony jumps off one after the other.”

Amber practically bolted to the end; Chandra soon followed her. Kalahari and Ida exchanged glances. “This is crazy,” muttered Kalahari. “Cuuuuh-raaay-zeeee.”

“And what part of the whole ‘mysterious group of ponies tryin’ to kill y’all’ ain’t?”

Kalahari tilted her head and frowned. “…Point,” she muttered as she and Ida followed Chandra back.

The bridge was even closer and fast approaching. The river was even wider than Ida had thought at first; hopefully, it wouldn’t be too rapid.

Amber planted her front hooves on the deck’s railing. “Okay,” she muttered as the front of the train went on the . “Don’t choke.” She took a deep breath and hurled herself over the railing, landing in the river below with a splash.

Chandra quickly followed her over. Kalahari looked at the railing, looked at Ida. “Stupid,” she scowled, and flung herself into the river.

Ida placed a hoof on the railing, then looked at Phalanx, finally away from the barricade. “You sure you’ll be okay jumpin’?”

Phalanx rolled his eyes. “It’s just my leg that’s messed up.” He flared his wings. “I’ll be fine. Go, I’m right behind you.”

Ida nodded, took a deep breath, and jumped.

It took half a moment for her to process what, exactly, she’d done. She’d jumped off a train, and from the wind, the train was moving quite fast. If she hit the ground, she’d almost cer-

She hit the water, and hit it hard. It slammed into her chest like a sledgehammer, and then the cold began working its way into her body like pins and needles. Her breath was almost knocked out of her and it took every ounce of self-control to not instinctively breathe in and inhale water. All the while, the current tugged at her, pushing her downstream.

She flailed her hooves in the water, trying to find which way was up and hoping her saddlebags weren’t dragging her down. After a moment, one of her front hooves broke the surface of the water. Then the other, then her head. Ida sucked in air, gasping. She blinked water out of her eyes and squinted through the gathering gloom.

Most of the rest of the group was already on the shore of the river, coughing. Ida followed them over. As she dragged her way out of the water and shook herself off, Chandra waved to her and motioned to the others’ bags in a pile; Chandra was drying them off with magic as best she could.

“Thanks,” Ida said, discarding her bags. Everyone else was a bit of a ways away, but she could still hear them talking. Phalanx had already landed there.

“-one okay?” asked Phalanx. He started muttering to himself. “Okay, Amber, Chandra, Kalahari, and… you alright, Ida?”

“Eeyup!”

Phalanx nodded grimly. “Well, at least that went…” He stopped, then suddenly lowered himself to the ground and curled his wounded leg in. “…oooowwww… Frick…”

Chandra was by his side in an instant. “What about you? Are you alright?”

Phalanx was breathing deeply. “As much- as I- can be,” he muttered. “Adrenaline’s- just- wearing off. Hurts.”

“Okay.” Chandra looked around them, then at Amber. “Um, hey, Amber…do you know where we are?”

Amber hung her head. “N-not really, no. North of the Everfree, but that’s about it. The… Bitterroot Forest, I think.” She swallowed. “I… I don’t think anypony else is out here. Just us. For miles and miles.” She hung her head even lower, and her voice was barely above a whisper. “Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” Chandra said. “I can’t think of any way we could’ve stayed on the train. And, listen, it’s possible that there’s somepony else out here, especially this close to the train tracks. There’s still some light out. I’ll go and try to see if there’s anyone around, or at least a place where we can find better shelter.”

Kalahari shrugged. “It’s better than nothing. Just don’t get lost.”

“I won’t.” Chandra’s horn began glowing and she headed off into the forest.

Once Chandra was gone, Kalahari squinted at Phalanx’s leg and rubbed some of the blood away. “This could be bad,” she said. “We need to get something on this. I know a little first aid, but I don’t think we have any medical supplies.”

“I know plants,” said Ida. “I can at least get y’all some leaves and what have you to make a bandage or somethin’. Maybe even some herbs to keep the pain down. Ain’t much, but…” She shrugged.

“If you can, that’d be great.”

Ida nodded and trotted into the forest, trying to pick out plants in the darkness. This was bad, but it wasn’t that bad.

Ha ha, yeah, right.