The Ponies and the Ponies

Chapters

Chapter 2: Inquisitor and Inquisited
Chapter 3: Dreams and Memories
Chapter 4: The Free and the Imprisoned
Chapter 5: Moon and Twilight
Chapter 1: Ponyville and Ponyville

Chapter 2: Inquisitor and Inquisited

Nightmare Moon scowled at Rarity from the other side of the hotel foyer, the eyes painted in such a manner as to follow her across the room. It was a strange work of art; she couldn’t quite imagine the process that had resulted in that becoming the Official Portrait. Had the artist annoyed her throughout the entire session? Even so, why not have another done? Perhaps Nightmare Moon had just thought, ‘Screw it, I’m not sitting through another one of these; let’s just use this one—even if it does make me look as if I’m going to leap out of the canvas and kill everypony in the room.’ Now that Rarity thought about it, she’d seen friendlier looking mugshots of serial killers.

It was yet another thing that Rarity felt she shouldn’t comment on. She wasn’t sure how lenient Fluttershy was going to be. Though her guide had never mentioned it, Rarity was sure she was a government minder from the Ministry of Information.

“Goodness!” exclaimed Rarity in horror. “This is awful!”

“Mevrouw Rarity, what’s the matter?”

“I had my suspicions, but this—!” She turned to Fluttershy. “This visitor’s hat fails to coordinate with anything!”

Rarity had counted at least a dozen different styles of foreign clothing. She had hoped that—even though it failed to coordinate with her entire wardrobe—that it would at least accessorise with some outfit. This was the worst possible thing she could ever imagine! Did the Nocturnal Equestrians have no sense of fashion at all? Such wonderful outfits of hue and cut, spoiled by a garish accessory.

Fluttershy paced backwards a bit, her ears flattened. She looked around her as if she wanted to bolt out of the room. Rarity couldn’t blame her—the hat was a fashion disaster of epic proportions—she didn’t want to be in the same room as those horrible things either.

“Oh, I believe that’s the inquisitor over there.” Fluttershy gestured to a unicorn mare seated on an Ottoman couch, her attention focused on a book.

As they approached, Rarity noticed that the dust jacket was inside out. It was difficult to tell what the inquisitor was reading, though it was one of those book jackets with a three-dimensional imprint. Rarity could just make out the outline of a familiar pegasus pony wearing a pith helmet.

“Lang lebe die Nacht,” greeted Fluttershy.

The unicorn Inquisitor startled at the sound and quickly snapped the book shut, before she shoved it underneath the dramatic purple cape draped over her black military tunic.

“Lang lebe!” greeted the inquisitor quickly. “Lang lebe.”

“Mevrouw Rarity, please allow me to introduce Inquisitor Twilight Sparkle,” said Fluttershy with a gesture of her wing. To the inquisitor, she said, “Inquisitor Sparkle, darf ich Ihnen Frau Rarity vorstellen?” The word order was slightly different, but the Nocturnal Equestrian phrase was similar enough to the Diurnal Equestrian that Rarity understood it in its entirety.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mevrouw Rarity,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle in remarkably good Diurnal Equestrian. She tilted her black military cap in greeting with her magic.

“Likewise, Inquisitor Sparkle,” responded Rarity.

“I’m sure you’re eager to see your compatriots,” continued the inquisitor. “As soon as you’ve freshened up and left your belongings in your room, we can get started with the interviews. I’ve had your fellow countrymares moved to this hotel for convenience’s sake.”

“Oh, well that was quite generous of you,” said Rarity. She had expected to find them crammed into a single unsanitary prison cell, so this came as something of a relief. “I hope you’ve been treating them well.”

“You wouldn’t believe the fences I had to jump over to arrange this,” said the inquisitor, “but I assure you that they’re as comfortable as can be.”

“So, Inquisitor Sparkle, what leads do you currently have on the case?” Rarity asked.

“I’m afraid I’m not allowed to tell you anything until we can rule you out as a suspect,” responded the inquisitor.

Now that was interesting. “But this is my first time in Nocturnal Equestria,” protested Rarity. The Royal Inquisition had outright dismissed the idea of the murder taking place in Diurnal Equestria, so how could she be a suspect?

“We still have to rule you out. If you wouldn’t mind undergoing a dream walk—I’m trained in oneirology—we could—”

“Absolutely not!” protested Rarity with a dismissive toss of her head. “I will not submit to such a blatant violation of equine rights.” She let her magic lift open a flap on one of her saddlebags, before she fished out a folder. “Both the Marechaussee and I had a suspicion you’d try something like this,” she said as she levitated the folder to the inquisitor. “You can have this instead. If this doesn’t satisfy you, I don’t know what will.”

Besides which, she was sure the Diurnal Equestrian Foreign Ministry had explicitly informed their Nocturnal counterparts of this. “Your superiors know about this folder; the Head of the Marechaussee assured me he spoke directly to Grand Inquisitor Sunset Shimmer herself,” she said.

The inquisitor sighed as she took the folder from Rarity. For a moment, their auras merged into a distinct colour that was neither Diurnal nor Nocturnal Equestrian in nature. Rarity averted her gaze; she wasn’t sure if she should have seen that, but she wasn’t going to take any chances. Who, after all, knew whether Concordia was watching?

“Well, I’ll see about this,” said Inquisitor Sparkle reluctantly. She glanced at Fluttershy. “For now, I’m sure your minder would be happy to see you to your room. I’ll call for you if I deem this good enough.”

Rarity wanted to shout at the inquisitor. What was the Inquisition’s problem? A foreign national was dead. Couldn’t they put aside petty national differences to work together?

“Mevrouw Rarity, p-please follow me, if you would?”

Well, she’d find some way of gleaning more information, and they couldn’t stop her.

After she changed, of course.

* * *

The inquisitor’s tune had changed far more quickly than Rarity had anticipated.

She had barely finished changing into a cream blouse and black skirt combo before she received a call from a lictor. He led her and Fluttershy down to the basement, where the inquisitor waited for them in a large meeting room.

“Thunderlane, bringen Sie das erstes Pony, bitte,” Inquisitor Sparkle instructed the lictor before she closed the meeting room doors. “Mevrouw Rarity, I’m happy to report that you’re in the clear.”

“Oh, that’s good,” exclaimed Rarity as she looked around her. They were in a basement room with plain grey walls adorned with various propaganda posters of ponies smiling in front of rye fields, smiling in front of factories, smiling at the night sky, and generally being ecstatic about the most mundane of things. The slogans all exhorted ponies to work hard in Nightmare Moon’s glorious utopia. “I take it we can start when the first pony gets here?”

“I’m satisfied you couldn’t have killed the decedent,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle as she made her way over to a long table in the heart of the room. “Your alibi checks out.”

Well, of course, thought Rarity. She had been in Canterlot to fit a dress for a wealthy mare. The train journey there had taken a good six hours, and she’d spent two days there. There was no way she could have snuck back to Ponyville, murdered the human and snuck back, without her clients noticing. At least, not until the promised upgrade works to the rail tracks had finished. Diurnal Ponyville’s train station, the strangely unimaginatively named Ponyville Central (despite not being anywhere near the centre), was even going to get a new extension. That is, when the archaeologists were done removing ancient artefacts and remains from the ground.

“I’m glad I’ve gained your trust,” said Rarity as she watched the inquisitor carefully align a stack of folders with an obviously human-made tape recorder. It appeared as if the unicorn was trying to get all the edges perfectly parallel with the edge of the table. “So, what can you tell me about the deceased?”

Inquisitor Sparkle shook her head. “I’m afraid there’s no time for a full debriefing,” she replied. “You’ll just have to pick up on the details as we go along.”

“Well, that’s absurd!” exclaimed Rarity in disbelief as her tail flicked irritably behind her. There was that inane stubbornness again. Was it national pride? She could believe it. Ever since the Hearts and Hooves Revolution in the Crystal Empire, Nocturnal Equestria had become increasingly erratic. Their actions were mad, often bordering on the suicidal. Did Nightmare Moon want an all-out war? There was no way Nocturnal Equestria would win, not with the most powerful human armies backing Diurnal Equestria, and that didn’t take into account the new Interdimensional Gateway the US was building, one that would open out directly onto Diurnal Equestria.

“That’s just the way things are, I’m afraid,” apologised Inquisitor Sparkle.

“How much time do you think we’ll really need?” she asked. “There’s only—” she began as she looked to the folders. “Uh, excuse me, Inquisitor, I don’t mean to be a bother, but how come there’s only five folders here?” She was sure that the Inquisition had arrested six ponies.

“One of your compatriots managed to avoid arrest,” explained Inquisitor Sparkle as she closed the door behind her. She trotted back to the table. “We believe he may know something about the murder. Part of our efforts are now directed towards finding him.”

“I don’t understand,” protested Rarity. “How could you have lost somepony?” She stomped a hoof onto the table, nearly toppling the inquisitor’s pile of folders with the force. “I know you probably don’t care much about a foreigner, but what about your own citizens? You do realise this could spark an international incident?”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle with an irritated sigh. “You mustn’t worry too much, Mevrouw Rarity,” she said. “I’ve already instigated an internal affairs investigation and we’ve petitioned the Oversight Commission for access to the Harmony District’s security footage. We will find out what happened.”

“Wait, why would you need to petition the Oversight Commission for that?”

The inquisitor gave her a look that reminded Rarity of her third-grade teacher. “The Harmony District is a special binational location,” explained Inquisitor Sparkle slowly. “The police force of one side isn’t supposed to act unilaterally.”

“Wait, wasn’t your arrest of my fellow compatriots a unilateral action?” asked Rarity. “You discorded!”

“Not me!” protested Inquisitor Sparkle with a furious shake of her head. “I didn’t make those arrests!”

“I’m sorry, but Concordia has no jurisdiction in the Harmony District,” Fluttershy pointed out.

The inquisitor nodded. “Admittedly, what my predecessor did was wrong,” she said, as she nudged the folders in front of her. “I don’t blame your Government for reacting the way they did, but haven’t we all agreed to put it behind us?”

That was why Rarity was there. She looked away for a while. Her eye caught sight of a propaganda poster where a bunch of unicorns smiled up at the visage of Nightmare Moon—the Nachtkönigin—who smiled down at them from the Moon, as if it was some portal to her Throne Room. The poster exhorted the Nocturnal Equestrians to work together for a better future. It was very appropriate.

“Well, what about the victim’s identity?” Rarity asked. “Have you any lead on that? Or do you not have time to tell me?”

The inquisitor looked away, her ears flat to the sides. It was subtle, but Rarity noticed she was looking towards Fluttershy.

Before Rarity could enquire further, the door opened and a pair of lictors marched a pale blue unicorn into the room.

“Inquisitor!” shouted Rarity. “Is it really necessary to practically disable my compatriot here? You’re treating her like a common criminal.”

“This is just standard procedure, Mevrouw Rarity,” said Inquisitor Sparkle dismissively. “Please think nothing of it. I assure you, we’ll remove the inhibitor ring when we take her back to her room.”

Rarity huffed in disgust. Though the interviews were taking place in a hotel—specifically the hotel’s training room—there was no doubt that Rarity’s compatriots were prisoners. A unicorn’s magic was as much a part of her body as a pegasus pony’s wings or an earth pony’s legs. She would have loved to see how the inquisitor would like it if her magic was taken away.

“What’s your name, dear?” Rarity asked of the unicorn. “Have they been treating you well?”

The unicorn gave her name as Orchid Dew. She seemed fine, but from the way her ears flicked nervously, Rarity could tell that something was wrong.

“I do believe you suffered an injury when we arrested you,” said the inquisitor, as she read from the mare’s file. “I apologise for that. I take it our physicians healed you well; you have no leftover pain or stiffness?”

Orchid shook her head quietly.

“What kind of injury was it?” asked Rarity.

“One of our lictors was a bit overzealous,” said Inquisitor Sparkle quickly before Orchid Dew could respond. “I do believe—”

“Inquisitor, I would prefer it if you allowed Mevrouw Dew to speak for herself,” said Rarity sternly with the sort of withering glare she’d often received from her own mother when she was young. She turned to Orchid Dew and put on her best reassuring smile. “It’s alright, darling, you can speak freely here,” she told her calmly. “You won’t be punished for it. I will see to that.” She glanced at the inquisitor meaningfully.

“Well, Meneer Caramel, the forepony, was in a meeting when two lictors tried to get in,” explained Orchid Dew slowly, her ears constantly flicking back and forth between Rarity and the inquisitor. “I tried to reason with them, but they got… violent.”

“And I assure you, their administrators admonished them appropriately for their aggression,” interjected Inquisitor Sparkle.

“That’s beside the point!” snapped Rarity angrily as she glared daggers at the Nocturnal Equestrian.

She presumed she must have been doing a good impression of the Nachtkönigin’s portrait. Unfortunately, only Fluttershy seemed to be intimidated by her act; Inquisitor Sparkle merely returned the cold glare. In hindsight, Rarity should have expected that; many a criminal had given her the same stare, and she had learnt to brush it off herself.

“Our physicians have used their best healing magic on all your fellow nationals, so any injuries they sustained are irrelevant,” responded the inquisitor sternly. “So if you’re done, perhaps we can continue with the interview?”

Rarity could have done without the inquisitor’s disdainful tone. If the Inquisition had been more reasonable, perhaps Diurnal Equestria would have left them to their own devices. “There’s still one more thing, Inquisitor,” she responded. “Mevrouw Dew, I’ve been asked to check whether the Inquisition has dream walked on you. Would you mind standing very still and keeping your mind as clear as possible?”

“Uh–okay?”

The spell the Marechaussee had taught her wasn’t easy. It required all her attention to focus her magic onto Orchid Dew, but at least it was relatively quick. The spell returned an answer in a matter of seconds; there didn’t seem to be any sign that the Nocturnal Equestrians had dream walked through her mind. That was good, even though she couldn’t tell precisely what other harm had come to Orchid Dew.

“Okay, you may commence now,” said Rarity.

“Thank you.”

With her magic, the inquisitor switched the tape recorder on. She dictated what sounded like a standard statement, confirming the ponies present and that yes, Twilight Sparkle was indeed an Inquisitor tasked with enforcing the Nachtkönigin’s Peace. Then came the first question.

“I’m Meneer Caramel’s secretary,” responded Orchid Dew.

“Working for the Will Foundry?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Caramel’s company, the Will Foundry, was one of many that had taken advantage of the special administration region that was the Harmony District. The original idea for the district had been to foster good relations between the two kingdoms for ‘the greater good’. Diurnal Equestrian companies got cheap labour; Nocturnal Equestrian citizens got money they wouldn’t have otherwise earned.

A shame it had recently been a focal point of tensions instead.

“So you mentioned Meneer Caramel was in a meeting with somepony at the time of the arrests,” said the inquisitor as she opened a folder. “With whom?”

“A local Lictor,” responded Orchid Dew. “She was here to see Meneer Caramel about some vandalism to our fleet of vehicles, and a theft.”

“What was stolen?”

“One of our goods carriages.”

“Is something the matter, Inquisitor?” asked Rarity.

Inquisitor Sparkle growled irritably. “Witnesses to the body dump claimed it was transported in a carriage,” she said as she pulled out a photograph from one of the folders and slapped it down in front of Orchid Dew. “I thought we could use it to prove something, but if it was stolen, then we can’t prove anything.”

As Orchid Dew peered at the photograph, the inquisitor asked her if the ID on the photo was that of the stolen carriage.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” responded Orchid Dew. “But you can ask Meneer Caramel. He was the one who made the call that afternoon.”

Rarity watched as Inquisitor Sparkle’s ears folded back again; the Nocturnal Equestrian stole a glance at Fluttershy. Would the inquisitor attempt to explain to Orchid Dew that Caramel was missing?

“Well, you can always ask that lictor,” said Rarity. “Oh my!”

A thought had occurred to her. She remembered what Inquisitor Sparkle had said earlier about the Harmony District. “Mevrouw Dew, was a marshal also in attendance?” asked Rarity.

“No, ma’am. It was just him and the lictor.”

“Wait, what?” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle. “Are you sure about that, Mevrouw?”

“I’d be sure if I saw a marshal there,” responded Orchid Dew. “The Marechaussee uniform is quite distinctive.”

Now Rarity found that interesting. It seemed strange that the Inquisition would risk sparking an international incident twice.

“What was the lictor’s name, darling?”

“I think it was… Night Glider.”

* * *

Night Glider lived in a polytopic area. Rarity could tell from the lack of street lamps and luminescent paint. If Inquisitor Sparkle hadn’t brought a firefly lantern, they would have been in utter darkness.

Polytopic areas tended to be underdeveloped compared to the monotopic areas—that is, areas that were wholly Diurnal or Nocturnal Equestrian. The strange dual jurisdiction meant no one kingdom’s national infrastructure could extend into the area without triggering an international incident. These areas had no running water, no electricity, no gas and no emergency services.

It was a wonder that the inquisitor was here in the first place.

“Ah, here we are!”

Rarity turned to see a house. Someone had attempted to decorate it, despite its undesirable location. It had window boxes on its upper floors from which grew clumps of Poison Joke, which was considered an invasive weed in Diurnal Equestria. Where the plants tried to grow heterotopically—across to the Diurnal Equestrian houses either side—some pony had viciously chopped the leaves at the intersection between the two kingdoms.

From Rarity’s experience, attempts at decoration were always a good sign. No pony who lived in a bad area would have the time to take such care to the appearance of their home. She looked opposite. It seemed the lictor’s house wasn’t the only one. She wasn’t sure how she had missed that earlier.

“Thunderlane,” said Inquisitor Sparkle with a nod in the lictor’s direction.

The pegasus stallion nodded in response before he took to the sky in a cloud of dust that made them all cough. More outrageously, it meant Rarity was absolutely filthy! Well, she thought it was outrageous at least. Nobody else seemed to care, which in itself was an unspeakable travesty.

The inquisitor rapped on the door, then waited very patiently. Rarity wasn’t sure how long they waited, but by the time she thought to ask, she was sure any other police officer, Inquisition or not, would have long since busted the door down. Instead, Inquisitor Sparkle knocked again.

“Maybe she’s not at home?” suggested Fluttershy after a while.

“We can’t take the chance,” replied Inquisitor Sparkle. She rapped on the door again. “Lictor Night Glider,” she called out. She sighed, closed her eyes, and counted under her breath as she gathered magic into her horn.

“Inquisitor, what are you—?”

Light flashed within the lock of the door before it swung open.

Rarity was about to protest when she heard a cry. There was a rumbling on the floor above like a herd of yaks in a builder’s yard. She winced upon hearing a smash like porcelain against stone. “Oh dear,” she exclaimed. “I hope that wasn’t a priceless vase.”

Suddenly, a light blue unicorn ran down the steps. He skidded to a halt, eyes wide in surprise on seeing them.

“Party Favor!” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle in disbelief. “What are you doing here?”

“Inquisitor,” yelled Thunderlane as he flew down the stairs, “we have a mare down. Perp’s downstairs!”

“What?”

The curly-maned unicorn turned. The lictor on the stairs blocked his way; he bolted down the hallway to the kitchen at back. He didn’t get very far before an irate Inquisitor Sparkle blinked into existence in front of him. Thunderlane landed behind him.

“You’re not going anywhere, pal!”

The explosion of balloons suggested otherwise. Rarity had never seen so many balloons in one place. They knocked the inquisitor through another door, and Thunderlane crashed into a wall.

Running. Why did they always have to run? She’d have to chase after them, and she’d end up all sweaty and smelly afterwards. Often covered in mud too.

As if she had a choice. Rarity broke into a gallop. She leapt over Thunderlane and gave chase after the fleeing unicorn stallion into the kitchen.

Carpet gave way to sticky linoleum. Rarity tried not to think too much about it as she grabbed the nearest object her magic could reach. A frying pan. Brilliant. She flung it at Favor in the hope of striking him.

Did seven years’ bad luck apply to windows? Rarity hoped not.

The backdoor led out into a narrow garden that was longer than it was wide. He ran through the overgrown grass, his focus on the fence at the end of the garden. Presumably, he didn’t have a good enough running jump for the side fences.

Just as she feared, he vaulted the fence. She’d never clear it if she followed him, but in her time she had learnt a trick or two. Rarity leapt at the side fence and kicked off it with her rear legs to gain height. For a few precarious seconds, she was afraid she’d become the subject of the next ‘Hang-in-there’ cat poster. However, a few more kicks of her legs and she tumbled over.

The polytopic area was unfamiliar to her, but at least she didn’t have to worry about heterotopic ponies at that time of the night. It was quite late; most Diurnal Equestrians would be asleep, surely. At least, she hoped they were; she didn’t want to accidentally discord whilst chasing down a perp in unfamiliar territory.

She kept hot on his hooves. He had to slip up sooner or later if she just kept on the pressure.

Favor barrelled past ponies, bowling them over. One happened to be heterotopic; Rarity only noticed at the last moment and quickly blindsighted her as she ran past. That was a hazard of giving chase in a polytopic area. Not all heterotopic ponies could be avoided. A pony had to minimise the collisions with the heterotopic whenever possible and never acknowledge.

The street up ahead was a slow-moving river of carriages, but Rarity had seen suspects flee through congested traffic before. Then a careless driver came to her rescue and Favor went spinning off the hapless pony. The unicorn stallion ricocheted off the back of another carriage with a thin scream of rage and went staggering across to the other side.

Typical, thought Rarity sourly. Luckily for her, the traffic had ground to a halt thanks to the spanner of potential insurance claims. She dashed across the street and found herself less than five metres behind Party Favor.

It didn’t matter in the end. She’d chased him into a dead end. The alley ended in a very decisive wall.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” she shouted as she watched the unicorn ascend upwards through the power of balloons. She looked around her.

There was only one thing for it. Rarity grabbed a lid off a metallic rubbish bin and flung it through the air. No broken glass this time. With a satisfying pop, the balloons burst and Party Favor went tumbling back down to the ground.

“Now darling, I must admit I’m not entirely sure what’s going on,” began Rarity as she edged closer to the stallion, “but if what the lictor said was true, then I’d really appreciate it if you came back with me. We can sort this all out like reasonable ponies and—”

Party Favor lashed out at her the only way a unicorn knew how. He charged straight at her, horn lowered, sharpened point aimed straight for her chest.

Rarity reared back and slapped the horn away from her vitals with her front hoof.

It didn’t stop him from barrelling into her. The two of them went head over heels and not in the way Rarity had been hoping for since she’d come of age. Why was it that the only stallions who wanted a little tumble with her were the ones who wanted her dead? Granted, the feeling was mutual, but still—!

Rarity kicked with her rear legs and managed to throw the stallion off her. She quickly righted herself and slid into a combat stance she’d once learned from a martial arts expert.

Party Favor threw a bunch of balloons at her. A trivial distraction. Rarity’s magic quickly tossed them aside just in time to see the unicorn charge again.

This time, she ducked down and kicked the legs out from underneath him. He faceplanted straight into the tarmac.

“That’s quite enough!” protested Rarity. “You don’t have to do this. I’m not with the Inquisition.”

The unicorn stallion gave her a look of outright contempt.

There was suddenly a flash of light. Party Favor collapsed. A light blue glow rose from the unicorn stallion and in it, Rarity saw a pink balloon animal surrounded by confetti. Was that the stallion’s cutie mark? Before she could tell for sure, it suddenly shattered.

In the distance, Rarity heard sirens.

Not that it mattered anymore.

Chapter 3: Dreams and Memories

“Somepony, help!”

No one was coming. Those sirens she’d heard earlier were heterotopic to her—on the other side of the border—and would never arrive. If Meneer Favor was to get any help, Rarity would have to find it herself.

“Please, somepony call an ambulance!”

Most of the ponies in the street ignored her; they trotted past without so much of a glance in her direction. A few turned to her but suddenly turned away, embarrassed, as if they’d been caught cheating on their lover.

Suddenly, Rarity realised her mistake as she watched those ponies canter away. She stopped looking at those ponies and focused on the nearby homotopic walls as if the dried paint was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen in her life. It was decidedly plain and whilst that was fine in some situations, she felt these walls needed a bit more panache. Not that it had anything to do with what had happened.

Rarity should have realised that most of the ponies would ignore her; she’d called out for help in Diurnal Equestrian! The homotopic ponies had quite rightly presumed she was heterotopic to them and had instinctively blindsighted and deafheard her. The heterotopic had heard a pony speaking their native language, but upon seeing her garish Nocturnal Equestrian visitor’s hat, they’d instantly realised she was in a different Equestria from them. She had inadvertently positioned herself in between the two kingdoms; hopefully Concordia had not noticed.

“Lictor!” she called out suddenly upon spotting a pair of ponies dressed in the familiar steel peytral of the lictors. “Herr Lictor! Come quick!” she called out, affecting a Nocturnal Equestrian accent; she hoped the sentence was similar enough in both languages that a shift in accent and pronunciation would suffice. “You must help!” she exclaimed as she cut in front of the lictor nearest to her, a dark unicorn stallion. “A pony’s collapsed.”

“Entschuldigung, Frau, aber—!”

No, Rarity was not going to take that. She pushed the closest lictor off the street, away from his startled companion, past frowning Nocturnal Equestrians and into the alley. As she dragged him away, she suddenly realised how strange that must have looked. Hopefully, those ponies didn’t think too poorly of her.

“Was ist das?”

Party Favor lay unconscious on the ground, his blue coat now a dull grey reminiscent of the equines from the Human World. Rarity wasn’t sure how it had happened, but the moment the cutie mark disintegrated, his magic had leaked out from his body like through a sieve. He looked how Rarity imagined she would have looked if she’d joined her parents and Sweetie Belle on their holiday in Switzerland.

“Get Inquisitor Sparkle here,” said Rarity sternly. She gasped as a sudden weakness spread from her head down to her hooves. Rarity whirled around; it was the other Lictor, a dark pegasus pony. “What—why did you just—did you just clamp an inhibitor ring on my horn? You—I didn’t do that to him. Take the ring off this instant!”

“Gnädige Frau, du bist verhaftet,” announced one of the ponies.

Rarity didn’t need to understand the words. She knew from the tone and from their body languages what they were saying. It was clear as day.

She was under arrest.

* * *

“I-I’m so sorry that this has happened,” apologised Fluttershy with a rueful bow of her head. “I’m very, very sorry. The lictors didn’t hurt you, did they?”

Rarity stretched her neck gently; she thought she might have slept strangely on it. Holding cells had never looked comfortable to her, but those run by the Inquisition were positively medieval thanks to their lack of beds or benches. “No, they didn’t and it’s quite alright, dear,” she said in response to her minder’s apology. It was a little lie—she counted the bare cell as mistreatment—but she decided it wasn’t a good idea to protest about her conditions when the Nocturnal Equestrians could just as easily throw her back in.

“So long as I don’t have a criminal record at the end of this,” added Rarity with a curious glance to the mint green unicorn.

“Prosecutor Heartstrings has assured me that this was all a big misunderstanding,” paraphrased Fluttershy after speaking with the unicorn. “You haven’t been charged.”

“Danke schön, Frau Heartstrings,” said Rarity with a courteous bow of her head.

“Bitte.”

Rarity looked around her. It was just Fluttershy there with the Crown Prosecutor. She couldn’t see hair or hide of Inquisitor Sparkle at all, so she enquired as to her whereabouts.

“She’s waiting for you at Prince Blueblood Hospital.”

“Whatever for?”

* * *

Inquisitor Sparkle laughed at her question. “Did you think I’d continue this investigation without you?” she asked. “I don’t know about you personally, but I’m sure if your government found out, we wouldn’t hear the end of it.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have minded so long as you kept me in the loop,” responded Rarity as she followed the inquisitor through the sparsely populated lobby.

Prince Blueblood Hospital—unexpectedly named after an incumbent Prime Minister—was like any other hospital Rarity had ever seen. Of course, there were portraits of Nightmare Moon on the wall and propaganda posters everywhere, but otherwise it was no different. It went without saying that it smelt vaguely of antiseptic. The walls were plain and the floor clean and polished to a mirror-like sheen; she nearly slipped and fell flat on her face.

After a while, Rarity decided to ask after Night Glider and Party Favor.

“Stable,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle and left it at that.

As Rarity followed Inquisitor Sparkle through the hospital, a warren of twisting corridors, she thought better than to enquire further; she would find out when she got there.

Something suddenly looked different. Rarity glanced back. They’d started off in a white corridor and were now in a blue one. It seemed the corridors were colour coded. A purple corridor followed that. And all the while, Rarity passed those insidious propaganda posters, most of which had nothing to do with health, like the one with a pony angrily tearing apart a US flag; ‘Rise up against US Imperialism!’ it said.

Eventually, they arrived outside the only room guarded by two lictors. Rarity noticed they wore the bladed wing armour known as couteaux; one backward slice of that wing looked as if it would cut her in half. Was that even necessary?

Inquisitor Sparkle levitated a warrant card towards the lictors, before she announced they were there to see the patient. She introduced Fluttershy as being from the Ministry of Information, and confirmed that both the pegasus pony and Rarity were with her.

The lictors took such brief glimpses at the ID—before they waved them through—that Rarity wondered if they’d even looked at them. Not that it mattered; the last thing she wanted was to get into yet another row with a Lictor.

They walked in to find a doctor and two nurses fussing over a grey pegasus mare. The doctor was a blue unicorn with a grey and dark-blue mane, her horn aglow with golden magic that scanned across the patient in a straight line.

“Lang lebe die Nacht,” greeted Inquisitor Sparkle. “Wie geht’s?”

The doctor smiled broadly at Inquisitor Sparkle. She quietly dismissed the two nurses before replying with such enthusiasm that Rarity was worried the inquisitor would end up in a hospital bed adjacent to Night Glider. Bones audibly cracked, or so Rarity thought. She may have been mistaken, as the inquisitor managed to pull out of the hug no worse for wear.

“Frau Rarity, this is Doctor Minuette.”

“I specialise in magical dysfunctions,” explained the doctor in slightly accented Diurnal Equestrian. She looked to the patient. “Although magical dysfunction is something of a gross understatement here,” she added. “Lictor Glider here is completely devoid of magic altogether.”

The pegasus pony in question looked pale and strangely out of place among the pastel bed covers, even for someone who wouldn’t normally have been as colourful as others. Night Glider’s face looked drawn but she was otherwise awake, her eyelids closing and opening heavily. Rarity recognised those symptoms from Party Favor. Thankfully, Night Glider seemed to be breathing regularly, strongly, even and unaided.

“She’s pretty weak, so I don’t recommend dream walking or aggressive interrogation,” commented Minuette with a direct glance to Inquisitor Sparkle.

“How are you feeling, dear?” asked Rarity as she walked closer to the pegasus mare. Out the corner of her eye, she noticed a glass vase with an assortment of white flowers stuffed randomly inside it; she made a mental note to fix that arrangement later.

“Like somepony’s stolen all my bones,” sighed Night Glider in passable Diurnal Equestrian. “Are you… Mevrouw Rarity?”

“Why yes! Yes, I am.”

“Caramel… was always talking about you.”

“All good things, I hope?”

Night Glider smiled silently at that question. She might have even nodded, though from the way her eyes fluttered, she might have been tired instead.

“Did you get a good look at the pony who did this to you?”

“I don’t—No,” responded Night Glider with a weak shake of her head. “No, it wasn’t him,” she responded, when Inquisitor Sparkle asked whether Party Favor had attacked her. “It wasn’t—” Her entire frame shook as she coughed hoarsely.

Fluttershy brought over a glass of water with her wing. “Gentle sips now,” she said quietly as she tilted the glass to Night Glider’s lips. “Better?” She smiled in acknowledgement as the patient moved her head to answer. “If you need any more, just ask.”

“I’m sorry for pressing you like this, but do you know where Caramel is?” asked Rarity.

No response. Night Glider had fallen fast asleep.

“I’ve never seen anything like this before,” said Rarity. “What could do this?”

Inquisitor Sparkle inhaled sharply through her teeth. “A powerful unicorn,” she responded. “The originator of this spell is scheduled for transfer to Las Pegasus Penal Colony.”

“Why would anypony create such a spell?”

“Originally it was for disguise purposes; the spell-caster would use it to swap cutie marks as a form of disguise. However, when certain ponies displeased her, she would destroy their cutie marks altogether.”

That sounded horrible, but it fit what she’d seen. “I… I didn’t think you could do that,” she said as she turned her attention to the flowers; perhaps rearranging them would take her mind off that horrific thought. “But you say she’s awaiting transfer?”

“That’s right,” responded the inquisitor. “Soon as we’re done here, we’ll go see her.” She asked Doctor Minuette something about Night Glider’s cutie mark but got a negative response. “What we need to do now is locate her old followers,” she added, “like Party Favor. Minuette, is he any better?”

The doctor shook her head.

Rarity knew Party Favor would recover, but would he ever get his old cutie mark back? She sighed as she pulled a shorter stemmed flower out from the middle of the floral arrangement and placed it on the edge. “So, we’ve reached a dead end, have we?” she asked the inquisitor.

“The Oberinquisitor is going to have my hide for this!” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle as she started pacing near a window. “She wasn’t exactly too pleased at my performance last morning and now this. I’ve got two unconscious ponies and little to no leads. Between the two of them, we could have—” She stopped in her tracks; a great big smile spread across her face. “That’s it! I could link the two. Parallel dream walking!”

“Inquisitor,” called out Rarity with a look of disapproval she’d used far too often for her own liking. “I’m sure the doctor forbade you from dream walking her!” She suddenly felt as if she was talking to Sweetie Belle.

“If we spread the thaumaturgic and cognitive load—!” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle excitedly; she obviously hadn’t heard. (Sweetie Belle could be like that too.) She looked around the room. “Yes, there’s enough room for two beds in here. If we can wheel Party Favor in—!” A grin spread across her lips. “Dreamscapes are more stable if you link more than one dreaming mind, anyway. We can average out inconsistencies and false memories.”

Rarity couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “This is a pony’s head we’re talking about!” she protested with a heavy stomp of her hoof. “You can’t just march into someone’s private thoughts and pick out what you want. Besides, a pony couldn’t be her own witness.” Not in Diurnal Equestria at least. Granted, that was a recent development, but most ponies agreed it was a good idea when they heard it, so the Government had adopted it wholesale from its American source.

“Of course I can!” protested Inquisitor Sparkle with a frown. “She’s the Nachtkönigin’s subject; I can dream walk her anytime I feel it necessary.”

“It’s a violation of her rights!”

“Nopony has the right to be exempt,” retorted the inquisitor. “But if you’re that concerned, perhaps you’d like to come with to make sure I don’t do anything wrong?” She smiled in satisfaction.

Rarity wondered if she’d be able to stop Sparkle if she had to do so. “Well, if it comes to it, I guess I shall,” she responded.

“What, really? But aren’t you aware I’d be dream walking you as well?”

“Yes, I am aware,” said Rarity. “I may not be very au fait with magical terminology, but when you said you wanted to ‘spread… the cognitive load’ I guessed you wanted to create a shared dream walk.” She smiled. “Besides, maybe I’d be able to see something you’d miss.”

* * *

“Do you, Twilight Sparkle, Daughter of Twilight Velvet and Nightlight of the Unicorn House of Glow, swear to be true to our Sovereign Monarch, and well and truly serve your Kingdom and be in obedience to all the wardens and clothing of our fellowship? In reverence of the power invested in you by Her Eternal Majesty, ye shall keep and give no information to any pony but of the said fellowship and in all these things ye shall keep this oath to maintain the Nachtkönigin’s Peace, so help you Epona, your Sovereign and the power that set the universe in motion.”

Rarity didn’t need to know that Inquisitor Sparkle had sworn this oath but the inquisitor had insisted on telling her anyway.

“And dream walking is literally a power invested in us by our Sovereign,” continued Inquisitor Sparkle quietly as they trotted through Ponyville. “Without the Nachtkönigin, none of this would be possible. It takes a lot of energy to enter a pony’s mind, you see, but our link to Her Eternal Majesty makes things much easier.”

In another life, the inquisitor might have been a teacher. Rarity could imagine Mevrouw Twilight Sparkle standing in front of a class, the blackboard behind her covered in equations and diagrams. It was a given that there’d be pupils asleep her in class.

“That’s… interesting,” responded Rarity with all the enthusiasm of a rock. She looked around her. “Shouldn’t we be seeing either Meneer Favor or Lictor Glider about now?”

“It’s possible we’re in your dream,” ventured Inquisitor Sparkle. “Let me check.”

“Oh, I don’t think this is my dream,” protested Rarity as she looked around her. “There’s too much mud. Not the kind that’s good for facials, either.”

In fact, now that she looked more closely, she couldn’t help but notice that the street they were on was just a dirt track. Rarity didn’t remember seeing any part of Ponyville that had just dirt tracks, not even in the polytopic or atopic areas. She gently poked at the surface with the tip of her hoof. It was dry and prone to crumbling.

Unfortunately, her detective line of work severely clashed with her fashion work. Rarity had developed an instinct about dirt. She knew exactly where she could pick up certain dirt stains and—more importantly—what was required to get rid of them. This particular dirt, for example, was common on the side of Ponyville close to the Diurnal Ponyville train station. The cleaning process was very dependent on the fabric, but most of the time, she had to wait for the mud to dry and then brush it off before she could tackle it.

“On second thoughts, perhaps this is mine,” admitted Rarity with a slight sniff of disdain, “although you couldn’t call it a dream by any stretch of the imagination.”

“No, the resonance doesn’t match; this is Party Favor’s dream,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle with a shake of her head. She looked behind her. “I think,” she said as she looked ahead, “we should just follow this track and see where it leads us.”

“That’s a very good idea,” agreed Rarity with a nod of her head. “After you, darling.”

As they continued, the houses started getting grimier. It began as splashes of dirt on the sides until eventually, whole buildings were covered in mud. Later, Rarity suspected they were made out of the stuff, and nearly missed the transition from mud houses to an underground tunnel.

“Oh, is that Meneer Favor?” exclaimed Rarity.

A blue unicorn with a curly mane stood at the other end of the tunnel, surrounded on nearly all sides by dirt. He seemed to be attempting to unearth a ceramic vase of draconic proportions. It looked nice enough, but something about it seemed off. Its shape was clearly pegasus in nature but the pattern was Saddle Arabian. Then again, this was a dream and such strangeness was to be expected.

“That’s odd,” muttered the inquisitor barely under her breath. “What kind of dream narrative is this?”

“It looks like Party Favor wants to be an archaeologist,” stated Rarity. “Perhaps somepony’s been reading too many Daring Do stories.”

Inquisitor Sparkle cleared her throat loudly. “Yes… well… uh… enough of this,” she said quickly. “Obviously, I haven’t linked their dreams properly.” She channelled magic into her horn. “You wait here,” she said, “and I’ll find Night Glider.”

“Wait, Inquisitor—!”

Rarity sighed exasperatedly. Inquisitor Sparkle had already gone.

* * *

A flash of light nearly blinded Rarity.

“So, uh, anything happen here?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle as her ears swivelled this way and that. She fidgeted with her forelegs, almost prancing in place as she looked around her wildly. It appeared as if she was blushing, though Rarity had no idea why.

“Is everything alright, dear?” asked Rarity.

“Fine!” shouted Inquisitor Sparkle at a volume that made Rarity wince. “Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t it be? I didn’t see anything I shouldn’t have! Did you see anything you shouldn’t have?”

“No… not really,” responded Rarity slowly as she backed away from the inquisitor. “He’s just been trying to unearth that vase.” She gestured to the unicorn in question. “He’s still at it.”

To give him credit, Party Favor had progressed a good deal, but it seemed that no matter how hard he dug, there was just more vessel to be unearthed. Rarity wasn’t sure how much there was, but it couldn’t have been that large in reality.

“You know, there’s something familiar about it,” said Rarity as she walked past the unicorn stallion towards the titanic ceramic vessel; she had long since found out that Party Favor could neither see nor hear her. “I’m sure I’ve seen something like it before. It just has a certain… je ne sais quois.”

Inquisitor Sparkle frowned as she walked up to one of the walls. “That’s odd,” she said as she pressed a front hoof against the wall. “Why are we still here? There should have been a scene change by now.”

“Did you find Night Glider?”

Once again, the inquisitor blushed. She coughed as she averted her gaze. “There’ll be a… slight delay whilst the narratives merge,” she said waveringly, “but she’ll be here soon.” She murmured something under her breath about decency. “Let me check.” Inquisitor Sparkle pressed her horn against the wall again and focused some magic into the structure. “Ah!” she exclaimed as she stepped back.

“What is it, darling?”

The inquisitor spun round and bucked the wall of earth as hard as she could. She was no earth pony, so Rarity didn’t expect much to happen. Normally, nothing would, except for perhaps the addition of a few hoof prints in the mud. Yet the wall fell as if it had been a wooden background prop. In fact, the thump it made sounded exactly like one.

“Party Favor, what are you doing down here?”

The unicorn stallion whirled and fired a blast of magic that went wide off the mark (that is, if Night Glider had been his target).

Despite Rarity’s squeal of horror, neither Party Favor nor Night Glider seemed to notice her.

“Stop panicking!” protested Inquisitor Sparkle as she patted the air in a gesture for Rarity to calm down. “Nothing here is real.”

“But my mane—!”

“—is fine,” said the inquisitor angrily. “If you’re that concerned, just imagine it whole and it’ll be whole again.”

Rarity hoped so. She wasn’t aware that Party Favor could use such a dastardly magic spell. Did she need to close her eyes? Well, she did anyway and envisaged a full mane again. She ignored the breeze that blew through the perfect hole in her mane. There was no hole. Her mane had not been turned into Swiss cheese. There was no breeze blowing across her scalp.

“See? I told you.”

After she opened her eyes, Rarity felt for the aberration. Just as she’d imagined it, there was none. Her mane was fine. “Oh, thank goodness for that,” she exclaimed. “The dastardly fiends I have to deal with back at home always go for the mane. Always!” She shuddered. “If only I could repair the damage so easily in real life.” She frowned. “Wait a minute, how is it that they didn’t see or hear us?” She didn’t want to admit it, but she was sure that humans in a completely different dimension would have heard her screams.

“Magic,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle curtly.

Rarity wondered whether it was worth it to press for a less vague answer. Given the inquisitor’s earlier magicobabble in the waking world, perhaps it wasn’t. She instead cast her gaze on Party Favor and Night Glider. She frowned.

A gigantic apple stood near the vase. It had a slice taken out of it, which happened to be a good two metres to the left of the rest of the apple. Both stood on a layer of grey ash that covered the entire floor. Rarity gently brushed her hoof over the fine grey particulates; it was impossible to tell what this had once been. In reality, something might have survived, but this was a dream, coloured by expectations and thus nothing remained. If only she could figure out where this happened; she could go there and see what the ash had once been, but there was nothing to go on.

“You said we’d be safe!” shouted Party Favor angrily with an accusatory jab of his hoof. “You promised that if we did what you asked, we’d be safe!”

“I thought you would be,” said Night Glider quietly, her ears flat. “Look, I’ll have a word with my guvnor about this, but you can’t stay here.”

“They knew Starlight’s cutie mark spell, Night Glider! They knew her spell. She never taught anypony that spell!”

“What; how?”

Party Favor shook his head. “I don’t know, but it was the first thing they hit Sugar Belle with,” he responded. “They took away her cutie mark.”

The pegasus mare’s wings sprung outwards elastically, her eyes wide. “Th-that’s impossible!” she protested. She shook her head. “You know we couldn’t dream walk Starlight, and she wouldn’t confess; she would never tell anypony how the spell worked.” Night Glider pulled a suitcase seemingly out of nowhere.

“What are you doing?” cried Party Favor.

To Rarity, it looked as if the lictor was shovelling ash into the suitcase in some bizarre mockery of packing her bags. She looked to Inquisitor Sparkle; the purple unicorn shrugged in response.

“We’ve got to get out of here!”

Rarity wasn’t sure when it had happened, but the room they were in had taken on the aspects of a cage. She stood on a metallic grille and all around, the walls were iron bars. Above, the ceiling was bars too. She stomped her hoof twice on the floor and heard the resonant clang. The imagery was not lost on her.

“You know something, don’t you?” shouted Party Favor.

Then there was a blinding flash of light that engulfed everything in its brilliant wake.

* * *

Rarity’s eyes snapped open, and her head jerked up with a gasp. She looked around and found herself still in the little hospital room.

“Uh, should have seen that coming,” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle.

“W-what was that?” cried Rarity, much to Fluttershy’s and Minuette’s consternation. She frowned. “And why is your mane in such a mess?” she asked upon realising the inquisitor had the worst case of bedhead she’d ever seen. “You slept standing up!”

“I’m not sure about my mane, but I believe that flash was the moment Night Glider was attacked,” explained the inquisitor as she smoothed her hair down. “From the way the dream ended so catastrophically, I believe it was a combination of Night Glider running out of memories and Party Favor’s fright response.” She looked to the two unconscious ponies, each in their own bed. “Minuette, how are they?”

The blue unicorn regarded the inquisitor through wary eyes. “What… happened?” she asked slowly.

“The dream turned into a nightmare, that’s all,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle. “It’s nothing, really.”

“Oh, how horrible!” exclaimed Fluttershy.

“Perfectly natural.”

Rarity sighed with a roll of her eyes. “So is the flu, but you wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of one,” she protested. “We hardly learnt anything new from that at all.” Except, of course, that lictors or ponies dressed up as lictors had apparently spirited Caramel away.

“Well, Twilight, you’re just lucky they’re both fine,” said Minuette angrily. “I did warn you, didn’t I?”

“I’m sorry,” apologised Inquisitor Sparkle. “But we are kind of desperate.” She turned to Rarity and said, “And I beg to differ! That dream generated a few new leads.”

“Oh really?” asked Rarity as she raised a single eyebrow. “In that case, what was the significance of Night Glider shovelling ash into her suitcase?”

“Well, I’m not sure about that.”

Rarity sighed as she pulled out a tissue with her magic. She dabbed at a little bit of drool that had pooled against Night Glider’s muzzle. “Then what lead did the dream give us?” she asked.

“Those apple pieces in the dream were the cutie marks of a pair of local mobsters,” replied Inquisitor Sparkle. “Somehow, I believe they’re involved in all this.”

“So, we’re going to see them?”

“Yes, but first we must pay another pony a visit. We’re going to see Starlight Glimmer.”

Chapter 4: The Free and the Imprisoned

“Come on!” called out Inquisitor Sparkle as she jumped in place. “It’s fine. You won’t fall.”

Rarity wasn’t so sure. Nocturnal Ponyville was a long way down. Gingerly, she touched an immaculate white hoof to the fluffy water vapour. It gave slightly, the way snow would. “And h-how long will this spell l-last?” she asked, her voice wavering from the cold of the high altitude and definitely not from fear. She would have put on something appropriate, but the Nocturnal Equestrian had failed to mention, until the last moment, that Glimmer was imprisoned in Free Cloudsdale.

“The spell lasts a good twenty-four hours,” added Inquisitor Sparkle. “You’ll be fine.”

“I-I d-don’t see why w-we should be up h-here,” protested Rarity through chattering teeth; she regretted declining Fluttershy’s proffered wing for warmth. “Can’t we ask for her to be t-transferred down?” She looked down and gingerly placed a second hoof onto the gently yielding surface.

Inquisitor Sparkle rolled her eyes at that comment. “It’s bad enough she was transferred up here in the first place,” she said sternly, “you want me to transfer her back down and then have her transferred back up before her final transfer to Las Pegasus?” She looked at Rarity as if she had suggested marrying a rock. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

Certainly, Rarity couldn’t argue against that. She remembered an instance when a mob boss had gone missing between the court and prison. That was just point A to point B! What kind of chaos would they invoke if they introduced a point C into the situation? Goodness, now that Rarity thought about it, Caramel was also a prime example of someone going missing from between one point and another.

“What is she in for, anyway?” asked Rarity as she gingerly took another step.

“She was the leader of a Unionist group,” explained Inquisitor Sparkle. “I believe she called it the National Unionist Equestrian Worker’s Party.”

Well that explained everything. Even in Diurnal Equestria, Unionism—the call for the peaceful reunification of the two Equestrias—was frowned upon, especially since the election of the League of the Unconquered Sun. She imagined membership of that political movement would have been a capital offence in Nocturnal Equestria.

“Now come on,” said Inquisitor Sparkle quickly. “We can’t miss visiting hours.” She gestured for Fluttershy to lead the way.

Rarity followed Fluttershy and the inquisitor through streets made entirely out of clouds, lit mostly by the light from the stars and the moon. There were no lanterns or street lamps, and the cloud houses around her were dark, save for the house numbers and street signs in glowing paint.

The locals wore clothing that glowed in the dark. Not full luminescent ensembles, but individual items, some wore glowing vests, and others had headbands or leg bands. She could just imagine what the streets would look like if the clouds obscured the moonlit sky, but seeing as this was Free Cloudsdale, it was possible that that never happened. What kind of material did they use? She couldn’t imagine it being the paint they used for signs.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really know much about it,” apologised Fluttershy in response to Rarity’s question. “Was I supposed to know? Is that something visitors are likely to ask about? I’m sorry, this is my first time as a guide. I usually work in—well, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you about it.”

“You’ve heard of electroluminescence, right?” asked the inquisitor. “Well,” she continued before Rarity could respond, “this is magicoluminescence. It acts on similar principles, but glows in the presence of magic. It’s actually quite ingenious. The material has a magical threshold that needs to be bypassed. Background levels just won’t cut it. You have to…”

Rarity regretted asking now. This Twilight Sparkle was surely in the wrong profession. She couldn’t imagine what bizarre circumstances had funnelled her into law enforcement. Asking the inquisitor was probably a bad idea. If she’d launch into a lecture into something so mundane as glowing materials, her life story would probably warrant an entire course with a textbook and homework.

“Goodness, we’ve been walking for quite some time now,” said Rarity once the inquisitor had finished. “Frau Fluttershy, how much further is the prison?”

“I’m sorry,” replied Fluttershy. “We could have docked closer, but the port near the prison was damaged. I heard there’d been an accident with a thunderbolt.”

“Still can’t believe that happened,” murmured Inquisitor Sparkle under her breath.

“I’m sorry,” apologised Fluttershy. “But… it’s alright. We’re nearly there.” She smiled weakly. “Look, there it is,” she exclaimed as she turned a corner.

Free Cloudsdale Prison was a large building on the outskirts of the cloud city. It had been sculpted out of clouds in the neoclassical pegasus style, its Ionic columns and friezes illuminated in the moonlight. A sign in front—in luminescent paint naturally—bore its name and a statement that proudly proclaimed it had been built to Las Pegasus standard, whatever that meant.

A pair of pegasus ponies stood guard at a gate in the prison’s chain link boundary fence. To their side was a small wooden shack, a unicorn’s head just visible through the window. They all wore the dark armour of the Lunar Guard, and like the lictor whom Rarity had seen outside Night Glider’s room, the two pegasus guards wore couteaux. Unlike the lictor’s pair, these were shaped like bat wings and were the same colour as their armour.

“Lang lebe die Nacht,” greeted Inquisitor Sparkle before she introduced both Rarity and Fluttershy. She handed them identification papers. “We’re here to see a prisoner,” she continued in Nocturnal Equestrian.

“I believe my father is expecting us?” asked Fluttershy suddenly.

“Wait, your father?”

“I’m sorry,” repeated Fluttershy for what was possibly the fifteenth time that night. “My father’s the warden,” she explained. “I thought I mentioned it to you, but if I didn’t, I’m really sorry.”

There wasn’t any need to be. If anything, it was a boon. Rarity just didn’t expect the daughter of a prison warden to be so shy. Then again, she rarely met a prison warden’s offspring; wardens tended to be wise enough to keep work and family very separate.

They waited a while, as the guard in the booth called into the prison using a telephone that had clearly been designed by humans for human use. Only fingers could press its tiny buttons, and it had a handset that no hoof or wing could pick up reliably. The unicorn in the booth didn’t have that problem, and used the device effortlessly with his magic.

A few minutes later, a pegasus pony approached them. He was a turquoise blue, and his white mane settled into a strange ice-cream-like swirl. At first, Rarity couldn’t quite see the family resemblance. Then he spoke.

The warden’s Nocturnal Equestrian was smooth and kindly, shorn of its harsh consonants, and the complete antithesis of Nightmare Moon’s harsh orations. He greeted them with pleasantries, before he asked something that sounded vaguely like, “Are these you friends, Inquisitor Sparkle and Frau Rarity?”

“Friends is a bit of an—”

“Why yes; yes, we are!” shouted Rarity. “It’s nice to meet you, Herr Shy,” she said.

Both Fluttershy and Inquisitor Sparkle winced at her mangling of the language. Had she used the wrong words? She’d used the wrong words, hadn’t she? Well, the Warden didn’t seem to notice or if he did, he thought it wise not to say anything.

“Please do come in,” offered Fluttershy’s father in fluent Diurnal Equestrian. “I expect you two aren’t quite used to the cold.”

“Yes, somepony failed to mention our destination was so high up,” said Rarity with a sideways glance at the inquisitor.

“And I said I was sorry!”

“Girls, it’s alright,” said the warden with a soothing gesture of his right foreleg. “I assure you, it’s much warmer inside. Please, follow me.”

After submitting themselves to a search by the Lunar Guards, the three ponies followed the warden into the prison building.

It was much nicer inside the prison, not toasty, but warm enough. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw they were inside a large circular room with three floors. Wide corridors joined this room in three of the four cardinal directions and everywhere she looked, there were the same thick steel cables that joined the ceiling to the floor, which was a metallic grille with holes wide enough for a hoof to slip through.

“Careful now,” said the warden as he led them through the central chamber. “We don’t want you tripping.” He explained that the holes in the grille were an anti-riot measure.

“Herr Warden, I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what’s with the cables?” asked Rarity as she passed one. It was incredibly thick, about a metre in diameter, and its base was protected by a massive metallic cylinder.

“In the event of a riot, the guards break the cables from above,” explained Fluttershy’s father.

Rarity’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean you drop the prisoners?” she exclaimed. She remembered the dizzying trip up into the sky. “Wouldn’t that kill them? And aren’t we above Ponyville right now? Ponies below would get hurt!”

“My father would never do that!” protested Fluttershy, her wings spread out and her eyes wide with disbelief. Rarity had never seen her guide so animated before. “You take care of the prisoners with great compassion, don’t you, Dad?” she asked.

The warden looked away embarrassed as their hooves clanged against the metallic grille. “Well,” he began awkwardly. “I do my best, but the Grosseding has issued a Code Red.”

Inquisitor Sparkle frowned. “For this prison?” she asked incredulously. “You don’t think they’re afraid of Glimmer, are they?”

“What’s a Code Red?”

“In the event of war with Diurnal Equestria, we’re to… remove the prisoners,” said Warden Shy reluctantly.

“At ‘terminal’ velocity,” added Inquisitor Sparkle. She punctuated her statement with a forceful smash of her hoof.

“That’s horrible!” protested Rarity as she watched a pair of Lunar Guards escort a pegasus pony. Unlike the other Nocturnal Equestrians she’d seen, he wore nothing save for an inhibitor band that bound his wings tightly to his sides; she could see his cutie mark: a moon partially covered by cloud. “You mean to tell me that if we went to war, these prisoners would—?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so,” replied Warden Shy with a sad nod of his head, “but it’s out of my hooves. If the Grosseding insists, then I can only follow my orders.”

The Grosseding, the Nocturnal Equestrian parliament, would brook no argument. Rarity didn’t pay much attention to international news, but what little she had read suggested it was fully under the control of the Army. Unlike its Diurnal Equestrian equivalent, the Ponysding, there were no career politicians, only generals that expected complete obedience.

“Well here we are: Frau Glimmer’s cell,” said Warden Shy with a flourish.

They were at the end of one of the corridors. A pair of Lunar Guards flanked the door, each one as still as a statue, their gaze focused straight ahead to the other end of the corridor.

“When will she be transferred?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.

“I’m not getting any definite lead times,” responded Warden Shy with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps a week.” He nodded to the Lunar Guards.

One of them banged on the door. “Frau Glimmer, you have a visitor!” he shouted before he counted to five under his breath, his horn glowing gradually brighter. Then he touched the door, and it immediately became transparent.

The inside of the cell was a brilliantly illuminated white void of a room. Rarity had never seen such illumination; there were no shadows! As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw a reddish pink unicorn with a purple mane, a single turquoise stripe through it. She sat at an angle where her cutie mark—a purple star with turquoise wisps of smoke rising from it—was clearly visible. Chains, nearly pulled taut, kept her fixed to the middle of the cell, away from the walls. Unlike the other prisoner, the guards had fitted a plastic muzzle guard over her face as if she was a rabid Diamond Dog prone to biting the hoof that fed her.

“Frau Glimmer, remember me?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.

A strange smile spread across the unicorn mare’s face—still visible behind the restraint—as she focused her gaze on the inquisitor. “How could I forget the mare who arrested me?” she asked. “Still a lapdog to Nightmare Moon, I see.” She frowned and leaned forward, the chains clinking noisily as she pulled two of them taut. “And—oh, what’s this? Your friend is a Diurnal Equestrian!” She smiled at Rarity before she greeted, “Goede nacht, Mevrouw,” she greeted in Diurnal Equestrian. “I’m Starlight Glimmer. And you are…?”

“…here about one of your followers,” said Inquisitor Sparkle before Rarity could respond. “Party Favor?”

Starlight smiled at the inquisitor indulgently with slow nods of her head. “Doesn’t ring a bell, I’m afraid,” she responded quietly. “I have so many followers, followers who thirsted for the overthrow of the tyrants who think they can rule over us. The world would be so much better without either of the Alicorn Sisters.” She turned to Rarity. “You agree, right, Mevrouw…?”

“Rarity,” she responded. “And I don’t see your point,” Rarity continued with a toss of her head, “Koningin Celestia is no tyrant; she’s just a figurehead.”

“That may be, but what about your Ponysding?” responded Starlight Glimmer with a frown.

“We have free elections!” protested Rarity.

“And yet you’ve got a political party in government, voted in by less than half of your populace,” commented Glimmer with a nonchalant glance at her hooves.

“We’re not here to listen to your treasonous rants,” protested the inquisitor as she slammed both her front hooves onto the metallic floor with a resounding clang. “The ponies of this continent will only unite when Celestia’s blood is trampled into the ground.”

Glimmer smiled at Inquisitor Sparkle. “Of course, of course,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hoof, “I had expected such an ideologically pure reply from you, Inquisitor.” She turned to Rarity. “See how bad things are? Such hatred and all because you blindsight one another, choose to believe that the other is not there.”

“Be that as it may, this isn’t the time or the place to discuss such matters,” protested Rarity suddenly. “We’re here because we hoped you might help us.”

“The only way I can help you is if you free me,” responded Starlight. “I can show you all the way to a new glorious future. Only when we are united can Equestria be great again.”

With a sigh, Fluttershy interposed herself between them and Starlight Glimmer. She looked into the cell and said something quietly in Nocturnal Equestrian. The unicorn prisoner seemed to visibly pale as Fluttershy continued. “Do I make myself clear?” she finished, at which point Starlight flinched back with a clank of chains. Fluttershy frowned and got a silent nod in response. “Good.” She turned and smiled apologetically to both Inquisitor Sparkle and Rarity, before she slinked away.

Inquisitor Sparkle cleared her throat. “Well, yes,” she began. “Anyway, we need answers, Glimmer. Two ponies have had their cutie marks removed, along with their magic. You’re the only pony who knows such a spell.”

“And you think I cast it from my cell?” asked Starlight. “With this inhibitor ring on my horn?” She laughed curtly. “Oh yes, I am a powerful mage after all! I’m flattered you—” She trailed off.

Rarity followed Starlight’s gaze and noticed Fluttershy glaring daggers at the imprisoned unicorn. A shudder ran through her body.

“We need to know whether you taught anypony else that spell,” continued the inquisitor, oblivious to the pegasus mare’s effect on the prisoner.

Starlight sighed with a rattling shake of her head. “I can’t betray my ponies,” she said softly. “You understand, don’t you, Inquisitor?”

“And what of Party Favor?” asked Rarity before Inquisitor Sparkle could get another word in. “He’s one of the ponies Inquisitor Sparkle mentioned. Somepony took his cutie mark and his magic. He’s in hospital now; he might not ever wake up.” She gave Starlight the same look she used whenever she wanted her sister to spill the beans; years of proliferation between the two sisters had turned that facial expression into a wonder weapon she was sure the Nocturnal Equestrians would covet. “Is he not one of your ponies? Will you betray him by not helping us?”

Starlight looked to Inquisitor Sparkle then back to Rarity. “Party Favor was one of my closest followers,” she said quietly.

“I’m sorry to press you, but you understand the situation, don’t you, dear?” asked Rarity softly. “It’s not right that somepony can get away with something so heinous.”

The chains rattled slightly as Starlight leaned forward gently. “Mevrouw Rarity, do you understand the value of information?” she asked. “Sometimes, you pay for it with your life.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.

“Just a statement of fact,” replied Glimmer.

“That’s true, but it can also be the cost of withholding information,” Rarity replied. “Now, I’m not saying Meneer Favor is on death’s door, but how many more of your old acquaintances, friends even, are you willing to sacrifice?” She waited a while. There was no response from Starlight Glimmer; in a way, Rarity hadn’t expected any. She’d noticed that Starlight’s ears hadn’t moved once during the entire conversation; the prisoner projected an aura of confidence, despite her restraints. “You care about justice, don’t you? Is it just that Meneer Favor’s talent, his very magic, was stolen from him?”

“Hippolyta,” said Starlight.

Rarity frowned. “I’m sorry, who’s Hippolyta?” she asked.

Inquisitor Sparkle stamped her hoof heavily on the floor with a clank of metal against metal. “Do you think I can’t get your sentence increased, Glimmer?” she snapped as she jabbed a hoof in the prisoner’s direction. “We can put you on trial again, you know. I’m sure Crown Prosecutor Heartstrings would love to see you get the terminal drop.”

“It’s not my fault that’s where she claimed to be from!”

“What is Hippolyta, darling?” asked Rarity.

Inquisitor Sparkle swallowed nervously. “Hippolyta,” she began, “is—” She looked to Fluttershy, who nodded slowly. “When Old Equestria… split, some believe it split into… three.”

“Hippolyta is the Third Kingdom,” added Starlight, “the Secret Kingdom.” She sat on her haunches. “It’s supposed to exist between… Diurnal and Nocturnal Equestria,” she said, extending a foreleg for each kingdom, “in the atopic areas, places Diurnal Equestria thinks are Nocturnal and Nocturnal Equestria thinks are Diurnal.”

“But it’s a myth!” protested Inquisitor Sparkle. “A treasonous myth,” she added with a cold glare at the imprisoned unicorn.

“Darling, this Hippolyta sounds to me like Concordia.”

“No, Concordia is different,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle with a shake of her head. “I’m always telling the human tourists to think of them as a police force. Sure, they’re secretive, but they maintain a presence; they want you to know they exist. Hippolyta… Hippolyta…”

“Hippolyta doesn’t; it suits them to be thought of as a myth,” added Starlight Glimmer, “because they secretly control both kingdoms from the shadows.” She smiled. “Or so it’s said.”

“And the pony who visited you claimed to be from Hippolyta?” asked Rarity.

“Why would they come to you, a known unionist?” interjected Inquisitor Sparkle. She turned her head ever so slightly, her left side focused on Starlight, a subtle species-specific movement that suggested she didn’t like the unicorn one bit. “Surely Hippolyta—if they exist—favour the current regimes?” she pointed out. “Where would they hide if the two kingdoms combined?”

Glimmer shrugged her shoulders. “She wouldn’t give her reasons, but she wanted my expertise,” she replied. “And before you ask, no, I can’t tell you what she looked like. She was a blur, a literal blur; I couldn’t focus on her at all.”

“Just like Concordia,” said Rarity.

Rarity remembered her first time seeing Concordia in action. The cause had been the most common of all such—a traffic accident. A Nocturnal Equestrian carriage had broken free from a pony’s harness. It passed through the polytopic road she or he had been travelling and struck a monotopically Diurnal Equestrian boutique and the pony who had been window-shopping there.

In seconds, Concordia had arrived. They had seemed to coalesce out of the shadows, though perhaps they had always been there. As the Marechausee taped off the area and pushed the curious away, Concordia had gotten to work with powers that had seemed almost impossible to her. They had moved with such speed, and try as she might, Rarity had been unable to see the ponies properly.

“Not Concordia,” stressed Starlight.

“Well, obviously,” agreed Rarity quickly, “I wouldn’t wish to insult them with possibly unfounded allegations.”

In theory, it wasn’t a crime to disparage Concordia. In practice, no adult dared. Only foals attempted it with games of tag where ‘It’ was Concordia and where homotopic, heterotopic and polytopic areas were marked out in chalk. Rarity had played it herself as a filly and nothing bad came from it. Then again, foals were never arrested for discording on the understanding that their parents would discipline their discordant offspring.

“So, you can’t tell me what the mare sounded like?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle. “You can’t even describe her magical signature?”

Starlight Glimmer shook her head silently.

“What about your spell to remove cutie marks?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.

“No, never!” protested Starlight. “Why would I help you?”

“Why did you help this ‘Hippolyta’ pony?” retorted Inquisitor Sparkle. “You’re the only one who knows how to remove cutie marks from a pony. Not even our best minds at the Royal Academy can replicate your spell. The spell must have come from you.” She walked closer to the door. “What did she offer you? Was it worth it? Was it worth the hospitalisation of one of your friends?”

“Now, Inquisitor—”

The inquisitor raised a hoof in a silencing gesture. “Look where your ideals and loyalties have got you,” she said. “Soon you’ll be in Las Pegasus, where the best you can hope for is to die from old age.” She advanced on Glimmer. “If nothing else, tell me what kind of magical signature I should be looking for.”

Rarity realised there was one other tactic she could try. “Starlight,” she called out gently, “please, you must help us. That pony seems to be targeting your friends.”

“Yes,” agreed Inquisitor Sparkle with an overeager smile. “She’s threatening your entire organisation. Well, what’s left of it, anyway.”

Starlight looked first to Rarity then to the inquisitor. “Fine,” she said with a heavy sigh.

The explanation itself went straight over Rarity’s head. She only knew spells of glamour and telekinesis, and even then, only in a very rudimentary manner. All Starlight’s talk of thaumaturgic particles and frequencies might as well have been in one of the many rhyming Zebra languages for all the good it did. And maybe she was imagining it, but she could have sworn that the inquisitor was enjoying it; if Rarity didn’t know any better, she could have sworn that Inquisitor Sparkle and Starlight Glimmer were the best of friends.

Perhaps in another life, thought Rarity.

“Entschuldigen Sie bitte.”

Rarity’s ears flicked in the direction of the voice, seconds before she turned. A Lunar Guard had approached Fluttershy and her father with a letter in his magical grip.

If only she could remember her Nocturnal Equestrian lessons from High School! Her grasp of Nocturnal Equestrian was atrocious, though she was lucky that the two languages were similar enough for basic conversation. Her fashion work was more likely to bring her in contact with French, Italian or even English speakers. Perhaps there were decent Swiss or Austrian fashion houses, but if there were, they didn’t like to outsource any of their work to Diurnal Equestria.

With a nod, Fluttershy walked away from the Lunar Guard and her father. “Uh, I’m sorry to interrupt, but is Inquisitor Sparkle done?” she asked Rarity with a brief glance towards the inquisitor in question. “I mean, it’s quite alright if she’s not, but… well… we’ve received a message from Lictor Thunderlane.”

Rarity turned in the direction of the two unicorns. “Perhaps it’s best if I draw her attention,” she said. She didn’t mean that as a disparagement on Fluttershy. Certainly, she found the pegasus mare very quiet, but Rarity suspected even the loudest, most vocal pony would get ignored in this instance. “What’s the message, anyway?”

“He says they’ve arrested some mare called… uh… Moon Dancer?”

“They have?” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle excitedly as she galloped towards them like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Eve. Apparently, she’d overheard. “We’d better get going, then. Time waits for no mare!”

Chapter 5: Moon and Twilight

“I’m sorry, but if this Moon Dancer is so important, why aren’t you interrogating her yourself?” asked Rarity. She inhaled sharply as the inquisitor slipped into a grey sweater reminiscent of Sweetie Belle’s attempts at knitting. It couldn’t have been, of course, because it was Nocturnal Equestrian and had a normal number of sleeves. “Are you sure you want to wear that, dear?”

“If I want to masquerade as her? Of course, I do,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle. She tied her mane into a top knot. “Hence the hair dye.”

Inquisitor Sparkle’s lavender coat was now a fetching cream colour with a fiery ginger mane that was halfway between pure red and auburn. She’d left a stripe of purple in her mane and tail, and was, at that moment, in the process of attaching some very bushy fake eyebrows to her face. The top knot ruined the look somewhat, but Rarity’s words of protest had fallen on deaf ears.

“Besides,” added the inquisitor, “she’s not going to say a thing. We know her type; she’s the sort who would—actually, never mind.” She shook her head, with a faint smile on her lips. “Just know that I’m going to be taking her place.”

“Do you really think you’d get away with impersonating her just by dying your hair?” asked Rarity.

“See for yourself.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Rarity. She took the photo from the inquisitor’s magical grasp; it depicted a cream mare wearing the exact same grey sweater, and glasses with the chunkiest black frames she’d ever seen. “Is she some relation of yours? The similarity is remarkable!” She plumped her curls, as she levitated the picture back.

“If she is, she’s a distant relation,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle.

A knock on the door was followed by the now familiar voice of Lictor Thunderlane.

“Yes,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle, “I’m decent; come in!”

Lictor Thunderlane walked into the room, confidently at first, but upon seeing both Fluttershy and Rarity, he hesitated. His ears swivelled round nervously, as if a faint noise had startled him. “Uh, Inquisitor—”

“What’s the damage?” asked Inquisitor Sparkle.

“Should Frau Rarity and Fluttershy be here for this?” asked the lictor, with curt glances towards the mares in question. “I mean—”

Inquisitor Sparkle sighed. “Look, just do it,” she said sternly. “If I’m to achieve verisimilitude, I need you to do it now.”

“I’m sorry, Frau Inquisitor,” apologised Thunderlane with an obeisant bow of his head, his eyes squeezed tight. He inhaled sharply, before he whirled round and struck the inquisitor in the face with his wing, the force of which threw mare’s head back.

“Lictor!” cried out Fluttershy in horror. She rushed to the inquisitor’s side. “What is wrong with you?” The stare she gave him would have turned a cockatrice to stone.

“It’s alright,” said Inquisitor Sparkle as she weakly waved Fluttershy away from her. “I asked him to do this.”

“But, darling, whatever for?”

Inquisitor Sparkle smiled deviously. “Moon Dancer’s patrons are watching this place,” she responded, as she dabbed at a small trickle of blood that ran from her nose. “If I’m to pass off as her, I must sustain the same injuries as she does.” She winced in pain and hissed through clenched teeth. “Have you confirmed anything from her?”

“No, ma’am,” responded Lictor Thunderlane quickly with a shake of his head, “she’s as silent as we expected. Dark Moon and Star Hunter want to get an oneirologist in to—oh shoot!”

“What; what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry, Frau Inquisitor, b-but I hit you too hard,” he apologised. “She didn’t bleed like you did.”

“Then go back and hit her again!” shouted Inquisitor Sparkle. She winced suddenly from pain. “The injuries must match,” she said more quietly.

“Sorry, Frau Inquisitor.”

“Oh, and tell them they can’t have an oneirologist!” Inquistor Sparkle shouted after Thunderlane.

As Rarity watched the lictor rush out, she couldn’t help but wonder whether all this was really that necessary. “I understand the need to be disguised, but isn’t this taking things a bit too far?” she asked. “I’m very good at makeup. I could make it appear as if—!”

“No, the Flim Flam Brothers wouldn’t believe I’m Moon Dancer if I walk out of here unscathed,” replied Inquisitor Sparkle. “And it has to be real. These are veteran con artists we’re talking about. They’ll know if I fake it.”

“You shouldn’t even be hitting your suspects in the first place,” said Rarity in the same tone of voice she reserved for Sweetie Belle, something she really didn’t want to use on grown ponies. “This isn’t Sombra’s Crystal Empire.”

Inquisitor Sparkle scoffed at that remark. “You think the Flim Flam Brothers are any better?” she asked. “They’re criminals.”

“And how are they criminals?” asked Rarity. “You still haven’t explained who they are.”

“They’re smugglers,” responded Inquisitor Sparkle, as she levitated a pair of saddlebags onto her back. “They specialise in food and drink, but they occasionally smuggle in foreign books and films.” She smiled wildly, then winced in pain, as her smile stretched bruised muscle. “You remember the ash in Night Glider’s dream?”

Yes, Rarity remembered the ash. “In reality, whatever had been burnt wouldn’t have been reduced to such fine particles,” she pointed out. “Some larger pieces should have remained.” She also remembered the giant apple slices, and the seemingly never ending vase.

“Night Glider obviously though it was worthwhile to pack it away, so it must be related to something she thought was important or precious,” explained the inquisitor.

Given Party Favor’s part of the dream, Rarity would have thought it was artefacts, but what monster would burn antiquities, and what kind would burn in the first place? “Scrolls, perhaps?” she suggested.

Inquisitor Sparkle shook her head. “The only archaeological dig in the region is on your side of the border,” she said. “By the train station, right? I hear Doctor A.K. Yearling herself is working on it.”

There was another knock from the door. Thunderlane walked back in with a sheepish look on his face.

“Huh, you’re finished already?”

“I’m sorry, Frau Inquisitor,” apologised Thunderlane, “but I hit her too hard this time; she lost a tooth.”

Inquisitor Sparkle sighed as she lowered her head in defeat. “Fine, but make sure you get it right this time,” she said.

Rarity did not envy the inquisitor, but couldn’t feel sorry for her. Perhaps this was karma, the universe paying Inquisitor Sparkle back, although she’d admittedly never seen karma react so swiftly before. She felt sorrier for poor Lictor Thunderlane, who didn’t seem to be enjoying hitting two mares in succession, and her heart all but bled for Moon Dancer.

Fluttershy called out against this, but her words fell on deaf ears as Lictor Thunderlane struck the inquisitor again.

“There has to be a better way,” protested Rarity.

“I agree,” said Fluttershy. “You can’t do this to yourself.”

“Everything’ll be fine,” said Inquisitor Sparkle through clenched teeth. “So long as Lictor Thunderlane keeps things in check,” she added meaningfully. “Which tooth is it?”

Rarity nearly fainted at what happened next. This was not something she expected to see, especially not self-inflicted. A shame there didn’t seem to be a suitable couch for her to faint on at all. She guessed she’d just have to tough it out. Hopefully, the hotel’s spa would still be open when she got back. It was a shame she couldn’t invite Moon Dancer; goodness knows that mare deserved it.

Fluttershy was by Inquisitor Sparkle’s side with a bottle of antiseptic.

Thunderlane apologised profusely—a string of statements that blurred into one another—before the inquisitor dismissed him with an aggressive wave of her hoof. He literally flew out the room to leave the three of them alone.

“Now, where was I?” wondered Inquisitor Sparkle aloud, her words muffled by a wad of cotton in her mouth. “Oh yes! We have reason to believe the ash in Night Glider’s dream was contraband literature. Party Favor’s part of the dream suggests he was acting out something from this particular proscribed paperback.”

“Are you suggesting Caramel was smuggling contraband over the border?” protested Rarity. She knew her neighbour. “He would never do such a thing! Furthermore, how could he? Ponies crossing the border legally are searched thoroughly.”

“Don’t know,” responded the inquisitor with a shake of her head, “but we’ll manage to get to the bottom of this if we follow the trail.”

“And who am I to be disguised as?”

“You’re not,” was the response. “I’m to go alone. If you were to follow me, you’d be like a donkey amongst the sheep.”

The Diurnal Equestrians used the same expression to refer to odd things out, so Rarity knew exactly what Inquisitor Sparkle meant. “I’ll have you know I’m an actor par excellence!” she protested. She flipped her mane back with a light toss of her head. “I’m often called upon whenever the police and Marechaussee require somepony to go under cover. Why, I bet I could rival the movie stars of Fort Leaf!” She received a blank look from the inquisitor. “You know, Diurnal Equestria’s Hollywood?”

Inquisitor Sparkle sighed heavily, her eyes rolled upwards. “No, you’re not coming with!” she shouted. “The Oberinquisitor was very clear on this.” She smiled suddenly. “But I do need potential backup and you’ll be with them.”

There was a knock. “Inquisitor?”

“Thunderlane, come in!” exclaimed Inquisitor Sparkle. She smiled. “Finished?”

“I’m sorry, Frau Inquisitor,” apologised Thunderlane nervously. His eyes kept darting to the steaming cup he carried in one wing. “I’m really sorry, but Dark Moon and Star Hunter got a bit carried away.” He averted his gaze as he whispered something.

“Sorry, what was that?” snapped Inquisitor Sparkle.

“They threw some hot coffee on her,” blurted out Thunderlane. “I’m sorry!” he quickly added. “I’m so sorry, I really don’t want to do this, but—!”

“That would stain horribly!” exclaimed Rarity, or at least, she thought it would. She’d been drinking acorn coffee since she’d arrived—a US-led trade embargo meant Nocturnal Equestria couldn’t get the real thing—and she had no idea how badly it stained compared to real coffee.

The inquisitor’s right eye, the one that wasn’t horribly bruised, twitched uncontrollably. “What was he doing drinking during an interrogation?” she exclaimed irritably. “He’s not supposed to have hot drinks in there.”

“I’m sorry, Frau Inquisitor. I’m really sorry. I tried to stop them, I really did, but—”

“Just get it over with.”

It was quick. Inquisitor Sparkle visibly stifled her scream and her entire body shook as if it echoed within her. “N-now go b-back and stop the interrogation before you b-bozos break her legs,” she stuttered as she continued to shake, “and don’t forget to bring me the transcript.”

* * *

Twilight passed the transcript back to Thunderlane after she was satisfied that she had memorised it in its entirety. “Keep my tooth safe for me,” she told him. “I want to reattach it,” she said, as she gave a meaningful look to Moon Dancer, who was now a purple-coated mare who could have easily passed off as her if one didn’t look too closely.

“Yes, Frau Inquisitor,” responded Thunderlane with a nod of his head. “I’ll do my best.” He smiled gently.

“And don’t forget to be very specific in the commands you give Moon Dancer,” Twilight added as she gestured with a flick of her horn to the very stationary and very quiet Moon Dancer. “Don’t let her out of your sight, and be careful who she speaks to.” There was nothing else to do. She couldn’t afford to take Moon Dancer anywhere without the Flim Flam Gang knowing. It was best just to let a mind-controlled Moon Dancer be the best Twilight Sparkle she could be, not that she’d fool anyone. “I’m trusting you on this.”

“Inquisitor, I feel I must protest,” said Rarity, much to Twilight’s surprise; what did the Diurnal Equestrian want now? “Did you really need to inflict those injuries on her when you could have just compelled her to confess?”

“Oh, that. Compulsion spells don’t work that way,” responded Twilight. “You have to word your questions very specifically and even then, they still backfire.” She knew because she’d tried it on her own big brother; she had had no other choice, he’d refused to tell her where he’d hidden Smarty Pants! In retrospect, she should have phrased her question better. ‘What have you done to Smarty Pants?’ had given her a long, detailed, disturbing list of everything Shining had ever done to her favourite doll. She still hadn’t forgiven him over it. Granted, no one had forced her to euthanize Smarty Pants, but it was kinder that way.

“Inquisitor, Inquisitor?”

Twilight blinked. Everyone in the room—except Moon Dancer, of course—looked at her with concern. “Huh, oh, yes, I’m alright,” she replied.

“You’ve been kind of out of it for ten minutes.”

She laughed nervously at that; it was impossible for her to have spaced out for that long. Then again, it had been a very traumatic experience, which—no! She was not going to trot down memory lane again.

“A-are you sure you don’t want any help from my friends?” asked Fluttershy. “It wouldn’t be a bother.”

“I’m afraid the Flim Flam Brothers have cottoned on to your particular brand of espionage,” responded Twilight with a shake of her head. “It’s the first thing they’ll look for.” No, her plan was far more devious than that, something they would never expect.

Twilight inhaled deeply then exhaled deeply with an outward gesture of her foreleg. She wasn’t sure where she picked up this little habit, but it had always proved helpful in times of stress. Amusingly, she had heard the Crystal Empress liked to do the same thing.

“Well, here goes. Wish me luck.”

* * *

Every pony blindsighted her.

Twilight couldn’t really blame them. She had just walked out of an Inquisition constabulary with a cracked lip, a nasty bruise over her right eye, acorn coffee stains all over her sweater—which was admittedly more frayed than it had any right to be—and her mane a mess. If she was in their shoes, she’d do the exact same thing.

It was strange, though. She felt more alone amongst the ponies that blindsighted her, than she had ever felt whilst literally alone. All around her were ponies, but not a single friendly face. Even Concordia would not touch her, because she hadn’t discorded. She could collapse in the street and no one would help her.

“Good to see you’re out of there, Moon Dancer.”

A quick glance to her side revealed a pegasus mare with a turquoise coat and a blonde mane. She didn’t recognise this pony at all. Did Moon Dancer know her? She wasn’t sure. Certainly, none of the reports ever mentioned a turquoise pegasus mare before. That didn’t preclude them from knowing each other. What could she do; how should she react to this stranger?

“So, who told you where I’d be?” Twilight asked the mysterious mare. “Was it Twinkleshine?” She remembered reading that Twinkleshine had been there during the arrest.

The pegasus mare laughed. “Don’t be silly,” she protested and left it at that. She waited for a while until the crowd thinned out before she continued, “Good job by the way. That was pretty impressive what you did in there. The others were so worried you’d crack, but I knew you’d pulled through!”

“Thanks.”

A frown passed across the pony’s face. She shrugged off her saddlebags and fished out a navy blue modern-style caparison out of them. “Here, put this on,” she said. “You look like something the cat dragged in.”

Twilight took the cloak with her mouth. “Thank you,” she said, as she draped it over herself.

“You okay? How come you didn’t use your magic?”

“It hasn’t been quite right since the interrogation,” responded Twilight. “I’m sure it’ll get better.”

The pegasus pony nodded. “We’ll get a doctor to look at you,” she said, as she slipped her saddlebags back on. “Come on,” she said. “Let’s get going.”

Twilight voiced a wordless agreement, before she fell into step beside her new companion. The two of them trotted through the streets, with only the sounds of their hooves accompanying them. Her steps were a bit louder than the nameless pegasus pony, presumably because of her alloy horseshoes, but it wasn’t that noticeable. Well, Twilight didn’t think it was until she started paying attention to it. She attempted to step lightly, which was surprisingly difficult to do whilst trying to keep pace with her as yet unnamed companion.

Their path took them through rush hour traffic. ‘Perhaps,’ Twilight thought, ‘the pegasus pony presumed potential pursuers, so she sought to stump the sinister spies by slinking through plazas packed with ponies.’ It certainly slowed down their progress, though not as much as it would have if the Diurnal Equestrians were awake. There were a few, early birds she was forced to blindsight quickly, but those heterotopic ponies weren’t much of a problem.

“Hang on a second, this isn’t the way to the Super Speedy Cider Speakeasy,” exclaimed Twilight.

“They’re not at the bar tonight.”

Nothing more was said. Nothing more was needed. Twilight noticed the way the crowds thinned out. Soon, they were amongst narrow terraced houses that soon gave way to abandoned buildings. These in turn gave way to abandoned warehouses, derelict ghosts of a once thriving economy.

Vacant windows with rusting frames stared soullessly at them, as they traversed a drab landscape, featureless save for spidery cracks and rashes of graffiti. The messages were rude, bordering on anti-authoritarian, but ironically legal in its use of colour; the vandals were rebellious enough to want to stick it to the Grosseding, but were meek as sheep when it came to Concordia. Petty as it was, the latter would have disappeared the vandals if they’d used any heterotopic colours.

The pegasus mare walked up to a building that looked in better condition than the others: someone had bolted clean sheet metal over the windows and installed a new door. She knocked on this firmly, then stepped back.

Twilight suddenly noticed a hatch in the door. It slid open to reveal a pair of eyes.

“Lang le-e-ebe die Nacht!” greeted the pony on the other side. “What can I do for you, ladies?”

“I’m here for the babysitting role,” announced the pegasus mare.

“How are you with foals? Do y’know… uh… the fireflies’ song?”

“Do I?” exclaimed the pegasus mare. “Moonshine, starlight, do fireflies make?” She laughed. “Sure, I do; I loved that when I was a filly!”

Twilight frowned. She also knew that nursery rhyme, and she was sure that wasn’t how it went. It should have started, “Moonlight, starlight, fireflies awake.” She inhaled sharply, as she forced herself to overcome her muscle memory; the last thing she wanted to do was act out the entire routine in public.

The door opened and an earth pony stepped out. He peered around them cautiously, his eyes covered slightly by the brown Stetson he wore over his long blond mane. It was outrageously long for a stallion—or at least, by Nocturnal Equestrian standards—as if being in the city wasn’t bad enough. An earth pony’s place in the Nachtkönigin’s Equestria was on a farm or a mine. Nocturnal Equestrian society took a very dim view on ponies who didn’t know their own place.

“It’s good to see—”

“Achoo!”

“Gesundheit!”

“Sorry,” apologised Twilight with a sheepish grin. At least she’d aimed the sneeze away from the stallion.

“Think nothing of it,” responded the earth pony with a friendly smile. “I’m just glad to see y’re back.” He stepped aside to let them through. “Well, don’t dawdle now. The twins are mighty anxious to see y’both. They’re on the warehouse floor somewhere.”

That didn’t help much. The warehouse was a hive of activity. Workers moved through the aisles, some driving machinery. There were a few humans there too, mostly East Asian and, judging from their clothing, naturalised. Twilight couldn’t be sure whether they were Chinese or North Korean. She’d be able to tell when they started speaking, but from afar, they looked pretty much like any other human she’d encountered on her rounds.

The two of them eventually found the brothers in an aisle that smelt of coffee, real coffee that is, not the dandelion root or acorn substitutes the Ministry of Food Control distributed. Twilight’s mouth watered. It had been a long time since she’d last had coffee; she’d long since finished the little stash she’d kept since Sombra’s overthrow. The US-led trade embargo meant none of this could have entered the Kingdom of Equestria legally; it must have been smuggled in across the southern border with Marehico, a name that humans constantly mispronounced as Mexicolt for some strange reason.

“Flim, Flam, lang lebe die Nacht!”

The younger unicorn turned around. He smiled, an expression that seemed too wide to be genuine. “Lang lebe,” he greeted with a nod of his head, as he trotted over. “It’s good to see you.” He gave Twilight a huge hug.

“Really good to see you,” agreed the older, moustachioed brother. “The way the Inquisition’s been acting, we were afraid you’d ended up in the incinerators.”

A frown passed momentarily across Twilight’s face. Were they insinuating that she was a different pony? It’s true that that was a possibility. There were families out there where loved ones were lictors in disguise; the original ponies had died a long time ago in Inquisition custody, their bodies incinerated covertly, and the ashes transported to the Labour Camps as fertiliser.

In the end, she decided not to voice that fear. However, she did have one other suspicion. “I suspect they knew you were watching,” Twilight said. “They were more interested in striking me than asking questions.”

Flim nodded silently. His lips were set into a grim line. “That sounds about right,” he agreed.

“You know how we like to put a positive spin on things,” said Flam, “but now—?”

“It’s hard to do that now,” said Flim.

Twilight looked to her companion. “I’ve been told,” she said, as she returned her gaze to the brothers, “you’re pulling back on operations.”

The twins looked at each other. Neither said a word. Their horns didn’t glow with magic, so it was clear they weren’t talking telepathically, or at least, not using a spell. Twilight liked to think she was close enough to her BBBFF to do that sort of thing, but she’d never been able to pull it off. Her brother’s mind had been closed to her, whereas he’d been able to read her like a book.

“It’s probably best…” said Flam.

“…if we continue this in our office.”

* * *

Their office occupied a mezzanine level. Its windows, covered in slat blinds, would have afforded the occupants a clear view of the warehouse floor space. A pair of desks had been pushed against each other. They were positioned such that their occupants would have faced one another with the large window to their side. Both were clean, not a single paper or file in sight. On each desk was a telephone that was either of Diurnal Equestrian design, or a Nocturnal Equestrian knock-off: it had a headset rather than a handset, plus a rotary dial that could easily be turned by hoof, wing or mouth. Twilight liked to think it was a Nocturnal Equestrian design, but there were limits to how much propaganda a pony could believe without being delusional.

Flam pulled open a drawer and plucked out a book. Its cover depicted a blue pegasus mare with a distinct rainbow mane, fleeing a bunch of ponies dressed in black overcoats. In the crux of one foreleg, she carried a sceptre and a pair of emeralds. The title read, ‘Daring Do and the Royal Jewels.’

Twilight smiled at the sight of it, though not for the reason the brothers supposed. “So, you did get it,” she said. She wondered whether the tracking spell she’d placed on it still worked.

“It was risky…”

“…but yes, we received it.”

“The series admittedly wasn’t quite the same after Daring Do and the Black Rod,” said Twilight. “I mean the fourth book was alright, but it wouldn’t exactly win any literary awards.” The Ring of Fire was admittedly a guilty pleasure of hers, but she didn’t want to admit it; not because Daring Do books were prescribed—which they were—but because it read like a twelve-year-old’s fanfic.

Flam shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“This is a Daring Do book…”

“…and it will sell,” finished Flam, as he stomped his hoof on the cover in emphasis. “Yearling’s books always sell.”

“Always!” agreed Flim.

Twilight bit her lip, as her gaze lingered on the book. “Did you manage to salvage any copies from… well, you know?” she asked.

“No,” responded Flam with a shake of his head. “Caramel did a very thorough job.”

“Which is both good and bad,” added Flim.

“Where is he now?” asked Twilight.

The twins did that thing again where they wordlessly looked at each other. Was information really being passed from one to the other? She would have loved to investigate. Oh, the experiments she could do! No, focus! She couldn’t afford to get side-tracked into such whimsy whilst on an undercover mission.

“We still don’t know where Inquisitor Sparkle took him,” said Flam.

“Sparkle?” echoed Twilight.

Flim raised an eyebrow quizzically. “Of course, Sparkle!” he cried. “Who else could have stolen him back like that?”

“Only she has the raw magical power to remove cutie marks like Starlight,” explained Flam, as he emphasised each word with a tap of his hoof against the desk. “And as the inquisitor that arrested her, she could have easily ripped the spell from Starlight’s mind.”

Twilight shook her head. “No, that doesn’t make sense!” she protested, perhaps a bit more animatedly than she intended. “What would she have to gain from arresting him in secret?”

“Why don’t you tell us, Inquisitor?” asked Flam with a smug smile.

“W-what?” spluttered Twilight. She looked to the two unicorns, then to the pegasus mare. “Y-you think that—you think I’m the—?” She laughed curtly. “Are you nuts? I’m Moon Dancer! What makes you think I’m an Inquisitor?”

“Your horseshoes for one,” replied the pegasus pony. “Moon Dancer would never buy anything that was sourced from the Labour Camps.”

Flam chuckled. “Also, you were right to think we had a pony on the inside,” he said.

“But you were wrong about which pony you could trust.”

Then everything went black.

Chapter 1: Ponyville and Ponyville

Ponyville avoids annihilation!

The fate of the world flapped feebly in the wind; the newsprint caught on the branches of a bush, where it remained until a white unicorn mare with a purple mane picked it up with her magic.

Rarity sighed. Some ponies could be so careless. This was a public park; it belonged to everybody. She bet the pony who threw this to the ground wouldn’t have littered in his own home—the culprit was likely to be a male; she’d never known a female to be so slobby.

Her gaze rested on the headline. She expected better from the Equestria Daily Sun too. That headline was far too sensationalist for a respectable broadsheet. She’d thrown her own copy into the recycling the moment she’d picked it up from her mailbox; it told her nothing new. Well, except for the new Paris fashions; she’d kept that bit.

With her magic, she scrunched the newspaper into a ball and trotted over to the nearest recycling bin, where she dropped it in gently. “Honestly, some ponies,” she murmured with a shake of her head.

There was no point in dwelling on it now. Why ruin an admittedly windy but otherwise lovely day being angry about some pony she’d never realistically meet? The sun was out, the birds were singing and she noticed that the wind didn’t seem to affect the bees at all. They buzzed along with no problem, visiting flower after flower. That got her thinking about a honeycomb pattern dress. She could make it work with a bit of lace and—

No! She chided herself for thinking about that; this was not the time. Scandalous as that was, she had a more pressing problem to grapple with: one related to the newspaper headlines and her impending visit to Nocturnal Equestria.

Rarity continued through the park at a brisker pace in the hope that a canter could jog the unwanted thoughts out of her mind. She put on a pleasant smile for the ponies she met and carefully blindsighted the few obviously foreign ponies she wasn’t allowed to see, which at that time of the day were thankfully few and far between.

“Good morning, Mevrouw Rarity!” called out a familiar voice. “Out for a walk?”

She smiled upon seeing a familiar grey pony wearing a blue marshal’s tunic. Mrs Rarity, was it? “Good morning, Wachtmeester Clover,” she responded formally, despite the fact that she was on first-name terms with the Marechaussee sergeant. They had, after all, been good neighbours for over five years. “I didn’t expect to see you here today. Isn’t your beat normally Haymarket?”

“I’ve been reassigned,” responded the earth pony with a shrug. “The captain felt it would be a good change of pace for everypony.”

“Yes, everypony needs a change in surroundings now and again,” agreed Rarity with a nod of her head. “I personally find a brisk walk in the park a good way to cleanse one’s mind. Well, that or a trip to the local bathhouse.”

“Oh by the way, I wanted to thank you for taking on the case for us,” said the sergeant.

Rarity stopped in her tracks. She hadn’t expected him to have heard about that. “Think nothing of it, Lucky,” she responded with a dismissive wave. News certainly travelled fast. At least, it did within the ranks of the Royal Marechaussee, Diurnal Equestria’s National Police and incidentally, Ponyville’s only police force. “Investigating a crime on foreign soil would be a good experience for me.” Not that the Royal Inquisition of Nocturnal Equestria would allow her to do any such thing. Officially, she was there to oversee the interrogation of six Diurnal Equestrian suspects and nothing more. “Though I personally doubt the crime occurred on Nocturnal Equestrian soil or in the Harmony District,” she continued as she resumed her walk. “No doubt, the Nocturnal Equestrians are using our compatriots as hostages.”

“I hope they think it’s worth it,” said Lucky as he glanced towards an ominous cloud formation high above the north-eastern edge of Diurnal Ponyville. “They nearly started a war over one little murder.”

Rarity found her gaze following his towards the fortified cloud city of Royal Cloudsdale. She didn’t need to blindsight it, unlike its Nocturnal Equestrian equivalent; she just wished she couldn’t. Not that blindsighting it would have helped any. “Admittedly, they’ve overreacted a smidge,” she responded. She smiled faintly. “And that’s coming from me, a known overreactor.”

Sergeant Clover gasped. “Who are you and what have you done to Rarity?” he asked with the worst mock horror she’d ever seen.

“Oh, shush you,” responded Rarity with a friendly swat of his flank with her tail.

“You know, I don’t know why you have to go. I mean, sure, we’re a military police force. Goes without saying they wouldn’t want us to cross the border.” His next words descended into an unintelligible cough as a couple passed by, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “But this is clearly a case for Concordia,” he added quickly, and despite no more ponies being within earshot, he said the last word very quietly, as if afraid that the mere mention of that organisation would bring its wrath down on him. “If the Nocturnal Equestrians can’t identify the murder victim, then that human clearly didn’t cross the border legally.”

Anywhere else, crossing a border illegally was just that. In Ponyville, it was discord. Merely seeing across the border was enough to invoke the crime, and the wrath of Concordia’s agents.

“Yes, dear, but they genuinely might not have enough information to justify passing the case on.” She knew the Equestrian governments had become more reluctant to call upon Concordia in recent years; they saw its actions—necessary as they might have been—as gross violations of national sovereignty. “I’m glad they did ask me, though,” said Rarity, before she looked around her carefully. When she was satisfied that they were alone, she continued, “I’m worried about how they’re treating Caramel.”

Sergeant Clover nodded. “No idea why his company transferred him to the Harmony District,” he said. “I’ve been on border duty before. I’ve lost count of how many times I had to turn him back because he’d forgotten his passport.” He shook his head. “It’s just his luck to be arrested by the Nocturnal Equestrians.”

“Almost the opposite of you, wouldn’t you say?” responded Rarity.

Before Lucky could respond, something slapped him in the face, much to Rarity’s amusement.

“Es tut mir leid, Herr,” apologised a voice that wiped the smile off Rarity’s face and set her hairs on end.

She didn’t dare turn to the source of the voice. In a way, she didn’t need to; from the words alone, she knew that pony was not in the same park or country as them at all and should not have spoken to them. To acknowledge the pony’s existence was the crime of discord. From the inhaled exclamation that followed—which Rarity deafheard, the audio equivalent of blindsight—it became apparent that the other pony had come to the same realisation.

As the Nocturnal Equestrian galloped away, Rarity wondered whether she could look at the piece of paper or whether she needed to blindsight it. The paper, after all, must have been Nocturnal Equestrian, and therefore seeing it was to discord. But then, from her perspective, it was just a blank piece of paper; it could have easily originated in Diurnal Equestria and therefore been homotopic—the same side—to her. She snatched it off Lucky Clover’s face with her magic, careful not to look at the other side just in case it really was from the other Equestria and thus heterotopic. “Oh dear, it is very windy today, isn’t it?” she exclaimed more loudly than was necessary. “Why, I almost fancied I heard a—” She trailed off when she realised she’d discord by finishing that sentence.

“Y-yes, it’s very windy,” agreed the sergeant awkwardly, as his eyes darted around nervously. “Very…” He shook his head as if it would dislodge the thought from his mind. “So, you’re leaving for Nocturnal Equestria this afternoon?” he asked quickly with a nervous laugh.

Rarity nodded. “Yes, I’m all packed,” she responded with a nod of her head. She discreetly tossed the piece of paper away. “All I can do now is wait.”

The Nocturnal Equestrians controlled their side of the main border jealously. Ponies could only cross at specified times, and Rarity couldn’t cross until half-six in the evening.

“You’ll still be around later?” asked Rarity, and when she received a nod in response, she smiled. “I’ll bid farewell to you, then.” She looked west, to the pink and purple rotunda that was Carousel House.

“If I don’t see you again, I wish you the best of luck. Give those inquisitors hell for us.”

* * *

No doubt Frau Rarity would give them hell.

Inquisitor Twilight Sparkle sighed exasperatedly, as she closed the door behind her. The holding area was very cramped at the moment, with three Diurnal Equestrian citizens crammed into one holding cell and three more had yet to arrive.

If she ever met the idiot who had ordered the raid on the Harmony District, she vowed to turn his head into an orange. Just because the entry wound was caused by a unicorn horn—but not by any on record—did not necessarily mean that a Diurnal unicorn had murdered the human. Twilight knew for a fact that Her Majesty’s horn wasn’t on record. Did that mean the Nachtkönigin was the murderer? Well, admittedly, it was a possibility, but good luck trying to investigate that crime.

“Lang lebe die Nacht!”

“Lang lebe,” greeted Twilight as she returned a salute. “So, are these the remaining Diurnal Equestrians, Lictor Thunderlane?”

The pegasus pony smiled proudly. “Yes, Frau Inquisitor,” responded Thunderlane. “All present and accounted for. Not a single injury left either.”

From his expression, Twilight was sure Thunderlane didn’t realise the obvious: they could remove the wounds, but they could never remove the memory of those wounds. Their best dream walkers, oneirologists, could potentially convince the more susceptible that they’d never received the injuries, that it had all been a nightmare, but not everybody confused dreams with reality.

She frowned suddenly. Twilight craned her head to the side. “Where’s the other one?” she asked.

“Excuse me?”

“Where’s the other foreign national?” asked Twilight. “Bishopsgate was supposed to give you three ponies. Not counting the two lictors either side, I count two.”

“But they only had two to begin with!”

Twilight sighed wordlessly, as she levitated a piece of paper off the pegasus stallion. There was no denying it, the transfer receipt only had two names on it. She gestured for Thunderlane to step out of the way.

“Mevrouw,” she began in slightly accented Diurnal Equestrian, “was er niet een andere pony met je mee?” She might have gotten the word order slightly wrong—because the grammar of the two languages weren’t quite the same—but she was sure she had asked them whether another pony had been with them. Perhaps she could have spoken in Nocturnal Equestrian—the languages shared a common ancestor, and at times were mutually intelligible—but that was probably a bad idea.

“No, Inquisitor ma’am,” responded the Diurnal Equestrian in her native tongue, “it was just the two of us.”

“Brilliant!” sighed Twilight with a roll of her eyes. “Thunderlane, call up the other offices. See if they’ve got an extra pony unaccounted for.” She quickly added, “I’ll see to these two.”

“Yes, Frau Inquisitor!” responded Thunderlane with a nod of his head and a stamp of his right hoof in salute.

Twilight sighed. She had hoped to get some sleep before Rarity’s arrival. Didn’t look like that was going to be happening anytime soon.

* * *

“The Palace of Friendship is the only legal border crossing between the United Kingdom of Equestria and Nocturnal Equestria.”

It was also, Rarity believed, the most ironically named building she’d ever seen. Not that she could really blame the architects. The Palace had been something of a gift from the short-lived Crystal Republic; they’d started the design a year after the Hearts and Hooves Revolution, so were still a bit used to catering to Sombra’s twisted tastes. It certainly showed; the Palace had an uncanny knack of looking like an evil overlord’s castle at night. Their latest designs—she’d seen them in the latest Cosmarepolitan—were much nicer.

“…when they signed the Armistice of Dusk,” continued the tour guide in what sounded like Diurnal Equestrian, but was probably Dutch—it lacked the alveolar clicks, whinnying, and bilabial trills that were so characteristic of the Equestrian languages. “Under the terms of the Armistice, the borders were frozen in place and Concordia was formed to enforce the truce.”

It was strange there were still tourists in Diurnal Ponyville, given the recent tensions. Then again, it wasn’t the first time Nocturnal Equestria had threatened war. After travelling so far, and for so long—it took a week to get to Diurnal Equestria from the Geneva-Griffonstone Portal—it would be a shame to cut one’s holiday short based on yet another meaningless threat.

As she walked past the group, she noticed most of the humans wore apple-shaped badges, which meant the tour company was Boomgaard Tourism, a subdivision of the Apple family’s Boomgaard Corporation. In addition to the guide, Rarity noticed two marshals from the Marechaussee, presumably there to provide protection. Neither looked happy to be there.

The guard outside Southgate—the Diurnal Equestrian entrance to the Palace grounds—looked miserable too. “Good evening, Mevrouw,” he greeted in an infectious monotone that seemed to sap the strength out of her. “Papers, please.”

It took the marshal a while to look at her passport. He kept looking back and forth between Rarity and her photograph. “Is something wrong, officer?” she asked in concern.

“Um, I’m sorry but are you the Mevrouw Rarity?”

“Why, yes, I am.”

“Oh, by Celestia’s Sun, this is amazing!” exclaimed the marshal as he pranced in place. “I’m a huge fan of your work.”

Rarity smiled.

“My favourite was the Case of the Diamond Dogs of Baskerville. You certainly showed them who’s boss.”

The smile disappeared. “Oh, yes, I see,” she said. They were rarely a fan of her fashion work. Sometimes, she regretted having provided the solution to Lieutenant Bonbon’s case all that time ago. If only she’d kept her mouth shut during the entire dress fitting, perhaps she’d be more known for her fashion now instead of her detective work.

After a few minutes of babbled excitement from the marshal—in which she put her signature to his hoof-cuffs—he let her pass.

* * *

Rarity had thought the Palace of Friendship had been hideous. She nearly fainted when she caught sight of the visitor’s hat that Border Control gave her. It was a horrific dayglow colour that Rarity was convinced could be seen from the moon, through a thick layer of cloud and fog… by a blind pony. Short of dressing up in a lighthouse costume, she had no idea how to make it look good. It was outrageous. Never had an accessory defeated her before!

If only she could refuse, but the law required she wear it if she wanted to cross into Nocturnal Equestria. How else would the Nocturnal Equestrians know she was homotopic to them? How else would Concordia know not to arrest her for discording? She had to wear it, despite the fact that nothing in her wardrobe—and she mentally ransacked her wardrobe quite thoroughly—went well with it.

Strangely, the pegasus mare on the other side failed to say anything about it. Probably too good-mannered.

“G-good evening, M-Mevrouw Rarity,” greeted the buttery-yellow mare in perfect Diurnal Equestrian. “I… My name’s Fluttershy. I’m to be your guide.”

“Guten Abend, Frau Fluttershy,” greeted Rarity; she decided to at least try speaking some Nocturnal Equestrian as a courtesy.

Her guide smiled in return, though it was difficult for Rarity to notice it. Her first instinct was to blindsight the Nocturnal Equestrian, but she’d spent weeks retraining herself. Rarity found herself focusing on the pegasus mare’s clothes first. She noted Fluttershy wore a green sweater and a grey skirt that covered her cutie mark; in Nocturnal Equestria, it was illegal to display a cutie mark in public. The green, Rarity noticed, was of a shade that would have been illegal in Diurnal Equestria, but that was to be expected. Colours that were legal in one kingdom had to be illegal in the other to help ponies blindsight, to see without seeing.

“I-it is an honour to meet Diurnal Equestria’s foremost private detective,” she continued in a wavering voice before she presented Rarity with a bouquet of flowers. “That is, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

Somehow, Rarity got the impression that the flowers weren’t meant for her. Perhaps it was the way her guide gave them to her or the fact that Fluttershy hadn’t mentioned that they were for her to begin with. “Danke schön,” she said nonetheless in passable Nocturnal Equestrian.

“Bitte,” responded Fluttershy with a nod of her head. She then continued in Diurnal Equestrian, for Rarity’s sake. “I-I hope you had a good journey, that is, if I’m not being too presumptuous?”

“It was very good, thank you,” responded Rarity. “Thank you for meeting me here.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all,” she responded. “I’m only too glad to be of assistance.” Fluttershy turned suddenly. “Now, if you would be so kind as to follow me, please? That is, if you don’t mind? I’ll take you to your hotel, if that’s okay. We can stop by Shooting Star Hill on the way; it gives wonderful views of Nocturnal Ponyville. Not that there’s anything wrong with the views elsewhere and I’m sure your home is just as lovely.”

Ah, there it was. Rarity remembered reading about it. Shooting Star Hill was a required destination and from the description, Rarity knew she’d often blindsighted the place, not just because she had to, but also because she considered it a horrific eyesore.

The nerve of this pegasus mare! And to act all timid and polite like that.

When Fluttershy wasn’t looking, she bit the heads off the flowers. They tasted sweet, but Rarity didn’t dare swallow. She spat them out whenever she could. Discreetly, of course—it wouldn’t do for a lady to be seen spitting in the street like some ruffian.

When they reached Shooting Star Hill, Rarity was surprised by the number of bouquets that were already there. A sea of flowers lay between her and the large statue of the Nachtkönigin, or as the Diurnal Equestrians frequently called her, Nightmare Moon. It was as if the Night Queen had died recently.

“Oh dear, this is the most awful thing! The flowers you gave me don’t seem to have lasted very long,” exclaimed Rarity as she waved the decapitated plants dramatically at Fluttershy. “Look, the heads have fallen right off! I couldn’t possibly present these!”

The expression on Fluttershy’s face made Rarity wonder whether she’d overdone it. Had she just dropped the pegasus mare into hot water?

It wasn’t long before Fluttershy put on a brave face. “Well, that’s quite alright,” she said quietly. “I guess you can still pay your respects by bowing. Not that I’m saying you should—well, I don’t want to force you but…”

Of course she would. Even if it irked her, she would do so because it was the proper thing to do. Still, Rarity wasn’t going to go all out. She bowed as curtly as propriety allowed; there would be no prostration on the ground, and Nocturnal Equestria’s Ministry of Information was insane if it thought it could get anything more out of her than that. She whirled round quickly.

The sun was beginning to set, and she could see the faint cyan glow she’d normally seen from her apartment window—not that she’d ever admit to doing anything so illegal in public. That was the glow of Nocturnal Equestria, some kind of luminescent paint they used in place of street lighting. She had to admit, Fluttershy didn’t lie about the view, at least. It was a wonderful view, marred only by the pegasus cloud city that floated over—

A shudder ran through her body when she realised that city wasn’t Royal Cloudsdale. It was its Nocturnal twin, Royal Free Cloudsdale or Free Cloudsdale for short. At least, she supposed, she hadn’t accidentally discorded by looking at the wrong one. Now that she had crossed the border, homotopic and heterotopic had switched over; Nocturnal Equestria was now homotopic, Diurnal Equestria was now heterotopic to her.

“I certainly hope things get resolved soon,” said Rarity as she turned away. The two Cloudsdales were far too close for comfort; neither city would withdraw until the other went first. “Not that I have anything against the fine ponies of Cloudsdale,” she added, deliberately neglecting to mention which Cloudsdale, “but—well, you know.” She frowned. “Is that an owl on your back?”

Her guide nodded silently in response as she shuffled nervously.

The owl wasn’t likely to be a pet. In fact, Rarity had just about caught sight of Fluttershy hiding a letter which the owl had no doubt delivered. “What a lovely accessory he has!” exclaimed Rarity as she gestured to the bow tie around his neck. “Cuts quite the dashing figure. You know, I’ve received commissions from clients to create clothing for their pets, but I find it’s not always necessary. A simple little bow can do wonders.”

“O-oh yes, quite,” agreed Fluttershy with a nod of her head. “Do you have a pet yourself, Mevrouw Rarity?”

Rarity mentioned her cat Opalescence. “I left her with my apartment manager,” she said as she watched the pegasus mare’s face brighten with joy. “Not that she needed it. She’s quite the independent animal, perhaps like your owl friend?”

“He comes and goes as he pleases,” replied Fluttershy as she smiled up at the owl. “Why, he just delivered a letter… from… my parents. Yes, from my parents! They live up there, you know.” She waved a wing towards the pegasus city above. “It’s really a very nice place once you get over the fact that it’s a flying fortress.”

“Did you have to do national service?” asked Rarity.

“All Nocturnal Equestrian subjects have to,” responded Fluttershy.

Rarity didn’t have to. All residents of Diurnal Ponyville were exempt from national service and tax as incentive for continuing to live there. She looked at her guide curiously. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine her doing national service at all.

It was perhaps best if she didn’t say anything about it.

“Let’s drop your luggage off at the hotel,” suggested Fluttershy after a while. “Then we can meet with Inquisitor Sparkle afterwards.” She whispered a few words to the owl, who hooted once in response before taking off.

“I’d greatly appreciate that,” responded Rarity as she watched the bird fly off in the direction of Everfree.

Nocturnal Ponyville was gradually taking on a cyan glow from the luminescent paint the Nocturnal Equestrians favoured. She suddenly noticed that what had once been a bare path now glowed with cyan blue arrows and signs. It was, she had to admit, a cute way of illuminating the night.

She suddenly noticed that Fluttershy was waiting for her a few paces away. “I’m sorry, dear,” apologised Rarity before she trotted towards her guide. “Let’s not keep the inquisitor waiting.”