Convalescence

Chapters

1. Thanks
2. Fool in the Fetter
3. The City That Can Never Get Any Sleep
4. You Do the Time, You Do the Crime
5. Extracurricular Activities
6. Smoke, Mirrors, and Beyond

1. Thanks

For a dungeon, it was awfully comfortable. There's something about cobblestone walls and old sconces that screams "cozy." I suppose there are other screams usually associated with a dungeon, but those aren't exactly what I would describe as "cozy."

Two guards were escorting me to a cell that had recently acquired a new tenant. No, the tenant wasn't me! I'd never done anything deserving of time in a dungeon cell. Spending time there was just part of my career, like a doctor at a hospital, or a groundskeeper at a cemetery. But less morbid than that. More like a gardener in a greenhouse, full of thorny, poisonous, and funny-smelling plants.

After all, tending to ponies is a lot like tending to flowers. They come in all shapes and sizes, with different needs and weaknesses. Some benefit from lots of attention, some like to grow in the dark. Some are proper and orderly, and others invade on the property of others. It's my job to make sure they can all grow sweet and full, in harmony.

My benevolent employers, the Department of Equal Forgiveness and Equestrian Rehabilitation, or D.E.F.E.R, had provided me with a file detailing my client. I flipped through the pages absentmindedly, barely skimming the contents. Personally, I find it far more pleasant- and effective- to learn about someone by speaking with them directly, nose-to-nose. Preferably, not that close.

I kept the file held against my side using a free wing. Although my flying abilities were admittedly poor for a pegasus my age, wings are so versatile, I don’t know what I’d do without them. It's like having another set of legs, or arms... arm-legs?

There was a commotion of voices as we passed by some cells, as the guests in the dungeon always have so much to say. They're horribly rude to the guards, but some of them are pleasant enough for light conversation. Specifically, the ones I've had the pleasure of working with in the past. One waved at me from behind some iron bars.

"Hey, is that one Lily I see out there? How's your garden doin'?" shouted a cheddar-colored stallion.

Try as I might, I couldn't help but brag. "The flowers are blooming gorgeously, Cheesy Curdle. I just got in a new exotic today!"

"Great to hear, doll," he shouted back, "have a fun-tastic day!"

"Thank you, I will!" It's hard to believe that a pony who would mix poison joke petals into fifteen tons of cheddar cheese could be so considerate, but there he was. It's too bad the department had me moved off of his case so soon, but he seemed ready for reintegration anyway. His files just needed another stage of processing and he would be free as a phoenix.

Most crimes in Equestria could be considered "mostly harmless." Cake thievery, unlicensed potion brewing, and grand theft carriage to name a few. Ponies tend to make mischief now and then, but they hardly ever cause irreparable harm. Even so, there needs to be some kind of threat of punishment for there to be a semblance of civilization. And we've all heard of that group of ponies who have managed to protect Equestria from all kinds of spectacular, world-ending catastrophes on a monthly basis. Whenever possible, they would even befriend said catastrophe, adding them to the entourage of world-savers and friendship pollinators. That mindset is what inspires the basis of the Equestrian justice system; the system's primary function is not to punish, but to rebuild and restore the inner goodness that is inherent within everyone.

For some ponies, the system takes a while to work.

Eventually, we reached the end of the long hallway. A singular metal door sat at the end of the hall, lined with freshly replaced wall-candles. It smelled like sour chamomile. At eye level was a small window a couple inches tall and a few inches wide. It was closed, from the outside. A complex-looking mechanism was positioned where a door knob would usually be, which told me that this client was particularly special. Only the most interesting guests get the magic-lock doors. One of the guards poked his horn into the mechanism, which glowed as the sounds of gears creaked within the walls. Soon, the reinforced locks unfastened, allowing the door to slide open with a light rush of air.

With martial discipline, the guards took their places flanking the open door. "Rehabilitator Spathiphyllum, you may now enter. We are here if you require any assistance," they spoke in unison, grimaces plastered on their faces.

Clutching the file tighter, I nodded. "Thank you. You can call me 'Lily' by the way," I said. The guards didn't seem to acknowledge it. "I-if you feel like it, that is," I added quickly, before continuing on.

"Make sure the prisoner keeps the muzzle on at all times, rehabilitator filly," one of the guards said, as I passed through the doorway. "You don't want to hear anything this one has to say."

I glanced back over my shoulder.

"Thanks."

Walking in the cell, I was promptly met by the soothing glow of a sunset and a sweeping sky overhead. A cool breeze blew through my wispy mane, making my eyelids start to droop. I tried, unsuccessfully, to suppress a great big yawn. Being that we were underground, it wasn't actual sunlight, sky, or breeze. Instead, the ceilings in the cells had enchantments to simulate being outdoors, making the room feel generously spacious. Some ponies think that this is "too good" of a treatment for the kinds of ponies that stay in the dungeon cells, but I don't see why that's a bad thing. After all, anypony locked up in a box of cold concrete all day would go insane at some point. I thought of those solemn guards, stuck in gray tunnels and passages all day long. Their scowls might as well be carved into statues of stone.

Spread around the cell was a sleeping cot that looked far too inviting, some bathroom essentials, and a muzzled peach-colored earth pony mare in a chair. She sat in silence, watching the rolling hills and puffy clouds in the facade of dusk.

At that moment, my sense of self-preservation screamed at me to read the client's profile in more detail, but I kept the urge locked up in a soundproof broom closet in my brain, along with all the other skeletons of reasonable ideas.

Certain ponies have a tendency of being... "aggressive" toward rehabilitators. I've always insisted on allowing my clients to be free to do as they please, but dungeon policy is dungeon policy. Even from the opposite side of the room, I could see the disabling bands wrapped around her barrel, nearly twice as many as normal. She was even tied up to the chair itself with enchanted cloth straps. A lot of the ponies I've worked with have required some level of restraint, but this amount was among the most severe I'd dealt with. Someone could waltz right in and tickle her into a tizzy, and she wouldn't even be able to lift a hoof to do anything about it.

Technology can be frightening. Especially when it works as intended.

Walking closer, I started to appreciate her unusually large size. She must have been a whole head taller than me, at least, and I'm not a little pony. Gingerly, I took a seat right in front of her on the illusory grass and kept my shoulders low. Somehow, I sensed that this client preferred to look down on others, literally and figuratively. I take some pride in being able to read my ideal role in a first impression.

Peering at me with hot fuchsia eyes, my client's breathing was low and steady. Eventually, a muffled noise came from behind the muzzle. I imagined it was something like, "hello, so nice to meet you." It could have also been anything else entirely, but I prefer to assume the best.

I decided to return her courtesy. "Hello! So nice to meet you. I'm Spathiphyllum Apology, but you can call me Lily for short. All my friends do. Or did, anyways." I let out a little cough as my client raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Ponies call me all sorts of things, but you can call me whatever makes you happy."

The client kept staring at me with an uncertain expression as the artificial breeze touched against her mane. It was quite a mane, which wreathed her head like a loose scarf. Vivid sheets of vermilion and orange cascaded down the sides, ending right below her chin.

"Wow, your mane is blooming gorgeously! I sure am thankful that they don't shave ponies heads until their first infraction here, aren't you? It must take quite the stylist to get that hairdo, huh? Looks like something from Canterlot. That's where I live most of the time. I have a little place on Orion Avenue that's the same color as some of the lighter streaks in your hair." I said, desperate to break the ice.

She studied my face a bit before her attention returned to the horizon, where the sun passed behind the distant mountains, leaving the sky a dark blue-violet.

"I guess since you don't have much to say, I'll go on about myself," I said, flashing an awkward grin. That particular maneuver has a good record of putting strangers at ease. This pony seemed she would be easier to work with if she thought she was in control of the situation. It's remarkable how that works, considering her being locked up and all.

"There isn't much about me that you'd be interested to hear, but my talent is somewhat peculiar. It's the reason why I'm here with you right now, and will be for as long as it takes." I turned to the side, revealing my cutie mark: a dove with roses for eyes. In its claws, it clutched a single peace lily.

"It's a little hard to explain exactly my talent is, but know this: whoever you are, no matter what you believe in, whatever you say, or even what you do, I will always accept you for who you are. In my eyes, all ponies are equal and deserving of friendship and forgiveness."

I reached out for a hoofshake, only to realize my client was too tied up to reciprocate. Synthetic crickets began chirping all around us. I wasn't sure if the cells were designed to become colder during the night, but it sure started feeling brisk.

"I didn't think that cell immersion enchantments were programmed with a sense of comedic timing," I said. Not very funny. At least, my client didn't seem to think so. Her stare was threatening to burn a hole straight through me.

"Let me help you out of that chair so we can talk like civilized ponies," I said. "You deserve that, at least."

Disabling bands, or "dis-bands," are enchanted rings the size of hula-hoops designed to be removed by someone with the counterspell. When worn, the band restricts most physical motion to a slow, harmless crawl. Totally painless, as I was told. I didn't have the "keys" to remove those, but I could at least loosen up the cloth keeping her on the chair. A light tug from the outside is enough to remove those. My client's eyes began to narrow with each binding removed, up until the very last. Once freed, she fell to the grass on all four hooves, twisting her neck around in half-circles.

While standing, her size and strength started to sink in. While she moved like an exhausted snail due to the dis-bands, I still felt that she could bend someone's limb like a stick of soft taffy. Earth ponies are just strong that way. Now partially freed, my client loomed over me, like I was her annoying little shadow. Looking closer, her body was also marked by a multitude of recent injuries; shallow cuts and bruises were healing all over. Her silhouette glowed, backed by the budding moonlight, and I got the feeling that I was facing a dangerous pony.

She growled unintelligibly again. I interpreted it as "thanks."

"Here, I know I'm not supposed to do this, but I don't think I can help you much if I'm the only one speaking. The road to rehabilitation is a two-way street after all." I said, gesturing at her muzzle.

That surprised her. Gradually, she lowered her head so that I could loosen the straps with my wingtips. The way she moved, you'd think her head weighed as much as a tractor trailer. It had a metal front, with tubes and little lights that flickered on and off. It came off easy as pecan pie.

"The way they treat ponies here is awful, and they're so understaffed. The D.E.F.E.R. hub institution in Canterlot is so much more advanced and helpful. They even allow walk-ins! If our time together goes well, I could write you up for a transfer within a few weeks." I said.

Immediately, my client looked as though she was going to speak, but hesitated. I didn't take her for a shy one, but ponies tend to be apprehensive after I introduce myself with the D.E.F.E.R. spiel.

Sensing her discomfort, I extended a hoof. "Let's start this over. I think we can be great friends, miss, um-" I took a quick glance at her file "-miss Rafflesia."

Rafflesia took about five seconds to blink a single time, rubbing at her arms where the straps had been. They looked just as bruised and battered as her body, as if she had been tugging hard while bound. With great effort, she managed to meet my hoof, and shared a heartwarming- if a bit slow- hoofshake.

Then she opened her mouth, and the smell of a hundred rotting corpses instantly shot into my nose, flooding into my being like a swarm of locusts covered in wine and sleeping pills. Time became a blur as my vision became a wall of tears, and the floor came rushing to meet my face.

As the world dropped away, there echoed a voice, as though from far, far underwater.

"Thanks."

"You messed up bad."

It's funny how well you can recognize someone you haven't seen in years. Her caution-yellow face and billowing white mane stuck out like blinding strobe lights in the realm of polished brass clockwork we seemed to be floating around in. She was even wearing her usual outfit, a silly blue robe and wizard hat that looked like a cheap Nightmare Night costume.

It was Leap Year, and she was smiling like a snake. "You really must have messed up bad, if you're thinking about me." It had been at least a few months since I had this same dream, and she was just as eager to taunt me then as she seemed to be now.

"I don't need to hear that right now." I said, as politely as possible when talking to her, which is not at all. "What are you doing here?"

"What, you mean in your dreams?" Her smile expanded. "Maybe it's because you miss me so much. It has been more than a few years, after all. As for why we're in a clock, I'd say it's because you've gone completely cuckoo," she teased.

I rolled my eyes as the world rotated around us. It was like drifting inside the machinery of a far-too complex grandfather clock, glistening and whirring in endless progression. Gears the size of merry-go-rounds turned and spun in every direction imaginable.

She frowned insincerely. "What, you're still angry? I thought you were all about 'forgiveness' and 'acceptance.'" At the mention of the world "acceptance," a flock of doves flew around us, then dispersed into the twisting gears in the background. I tried to imagine they wouldn't get crushed by all the machinery, even if they weren't real.

"I do forgive you, and I accept what's happened, but, i-it's just... I don't have to be happy about it!" I said, crossing my arms.

A pendulum the size of a tatzlwurm swung in between us, giving me a jolt of surprise, my limbs flailing erratically. Leap Year didn't seem fazed at all, leering at me as if someone had drawn something rude on my face, trying not to laugh. She failed, miserably.

"Yeah, right. We can talk about that later. Why don't we take a walk through your 'steps,' first?" She said, using her horn to telekinetically toss a dusty notebook over to me. My notebook, that is. From under my bed back at home.

I took a look at the title, scribbled in black marker in my own hoofwriting. Steps to Forgiveness, it read.

"Let's see if I know what page to turn to... ah, this one!" She said, horn glowing.

The book flipped open in my hooves, pages shuffling over until it reached one with the header: "Mistakes."

"Hey, you named this one after yourself!" She said.

"Everyone makes mistakes, Leap Year." I said. It was strange saying her name after so long, even if it was in a dream. "I'm nopony special."

I tried to read what was written down, but Leap Year shut the book and threw it away with her magic. "But you are special! Nobody I ever knew was as subservient, demure, and meek as you." She leaned in close, speaking directly into my ear as I tried not to look. "You're so desperate to get along with everyone that you end up becoming... nothing."

"It's more complicated than that." I said.

"Sure it is. After all, I'm not actually Leap Year. I'm more complicated than this." She said, gesturing toward herself rather immodestly. "You wouldn't understand even if I explained it though."

"How do you manage to be so blunt and so cryptic at the same time?"

"I only know as well as you do. Anyways, looks like our time together is up," she said, pointing up at the source of the giant swinging pendulum. There, a moon-sized clock face loomed, about to strike twelve o'clock.

"You might want to cover your ears, Lily. The bell is a little loud when the hour strikes. You can thank me later."

"I want to cover my ears whenever you open your big mouth, Leap Ye-"

She was right. It was a little loud.

Author's Note

Hello! So nice to meet you. I'm Absolute Apology, but you can call me "A" for short. People call me all sorts of things, but you can call me whatever you please.

I've never written any other fiction for a public site, so I hope it isn't awful. I'm good at taking criticism, so fire away. Fimfiction.net is one of my favorite sources of fiction, and I hope to contribute to the community in a positive way.

In terms of chronology, the start of this chapter takes place eight years after the events of Friendship is Magic.

Thanks for reading!

2. Fool in the Fetter

When I came to, it was in hoofcuffs, wingcuffs, and a low-power dis-band. The smell of death still lingered, though it wasn't quite bad enough to send me back to Luna land, but judging by the way the rest of my body felt, I'd gladly go back. My ear drums felt like they had recently exploded from the inside. A million gears still creaked and grinded in my skull, while everything else prickled with pins and needles.

"Oww..." I clenched my eyes. My ears needed rubbing, but my hooves refused to cooperate.

"Wake up."

I knew who that was. She sounded angry, which would be cause for concern if I was more lucid. At that moment, it was more of a suggestion near the bottom of an extensively long list of choices.

"Just lemme sleep, whoever you are. Reality is pain right now." The metal chair I was sitting in had no right to be as comfortable as it was.

"Oh, you're in a world of hurt all right, Lily. Git up!"

I peeked one bloodshot eye at the dingy room. "Pumpkin, is that you? Can I get a mint or an ice pack? I can't get the smell of pestilence out of my head." I said.

"A mint? I reckon your brain's gone sour as last year's milk," she chastised. "And you will refer to me as Sergeant Smash. That's an order, not a suggestion." That let me know we weren't alone. For whatever reason, Pumpkin doesn't like it when I use her first name in front of other ponies. Her tact and finesse were lacking, but she was a good pony through and through. She was built strong, stronger than most earth ponies, and looked about as orange as, well, a pumpkin. A tuft of short-cut brown hair poked out from underneath her sweat-stained police cap, adding to her frazzled appearance.

Hooves slammed on metal, and I made a soured face as a light swiveled to blind me. The darkened forms of Police Sergeant Pumpkin Smash and Warden Fetter Fetlocks were sitting across the table. In an interrogation room.

This is where bad ponies sit. I had been a bad pony.

"So, this is about Rafflesia, right?" I asked. Pumpkin took in a breath, as if about to yell, when she was cut off by the warden putting her arm over her mouth.

"Yes, it is," she stated matter-of-factly. "I have an idea of what has happened based on preliminary reports, but we would still like to hear what you have to say." Her normally maroon eyes and coat looked downright black in the ominous dark of the interrogation room. If she was ever angry, I'd never know. I've never seen her be anything other than cool and focused, but then again, I'd also never woken up in three varieties of restraints before today. Anything was on the table. And the table was being assaulted every few seconds, before my very migraine-affected eyes.

"Okay then," I said. "I shouldn't have broken protocol, but I never thought something like that could even happen. You could weaponize that smell!" I took a deep breath, which dredged up all the remnants of that terrible odor, making me gag. I felt like a sewer system. Whatever that feels like.

"That's all ya have to say?" Shouted Pumpkin. "Ya downright caused a break out!"

"What?"

"You weren't supposed to say that yet, sergeant." The warden rested her chin on a hoof, as the sergeant bit her lip.

"Excuse me, you mentioned a break out?" I asked, panic starting to twist a knot in my chest.

The warden spoke first. "Yes. Rafflesia Blossom, after incapacitating you, proceeded to incapacitate the guards assigned as your escort. Using the counterspells laid in the guard's horseshoes, she removed the disabler bands keeping her strength at bay."

"Then she went and freed half the wing!" The sergeant shouted, slamming her hooves on the table again. It was bent and battered for a moment before the warden used her magic to mold and smooth the table back into its pristine form. There was no telling how many times this table had been destroyed and rebuilt. It was a lot like an old friendship, able to come back from any beating and battery, or something. I was suddenly getting interested in studying every little line and crease on the table and thinking metaphorically instead of thinking about how a potentially major disaster was triggered by my ineptitude.

"You weren't supposed to say that either, sergeant." There was no hint of frustration in the warden's voice. "Do you carry out all interrogations with this little attention to the rules and procedures?"

The sergeant leaned back in her chair, adjusting her police cap. I got the feeling she would much rather have been wearing a cowboy hat instead. "Aw, what's it matter anyway? Everypony and their grandmares know Lily wouldn't do a thing like this on purpose. She's just too trusting for our own good. That agency and their lax regulations need to-"

"You mean my own good?" I asked.

"Don't interrupt me!" She jabbed an orange hoof in my direction, and laid down a manila folder on the table, stamped with the official seal of D.E.F.E.R. "We got confirmation from D.E.F.E.R. that a certain Spathyphyllum Apology was given a file detailing the danger posed by Rafflesia. I want to know why in tarnation y'all would remove the filter-muzzle of somepony capable of putting a whole fortress to sleep just by huffing like a deadbeat in a glue factory!"

Reflexively, I checked under my cuffed wings for the dossier, but it was gone. "Oh. About that..." Looking around, it wasn't on the table either. "Where is the file now?"

"Gone. Rafflesia must have taken it with her when she fled," the warden said. "But I would also like to know the answer to the sergeant's question. Was the information outlined in the dossier insufficiently comprehensive? Did you think you would be immune to the effect? It's unlike D.E.F.E.R. to be incomplete with their reports." She was absentmindedly rotating a clipboard and pens in her telekinetic grip, leaving echoes of ticking clocks ringing in my head.

I squirmed in my seat. I wasn't about to lie, but it didn't feel good to expose myself either.

"I... I didn't read much of the file, actually. I think, in order to do my best job as a rehabilitator, I need to get to know a pony by actually sitting down and talking with them, not by reading about them in a report. Ponies are more than their actions and their words, and they should be treated equally with respect and dignity." I put on a determined look. "That's the truth."

My two interrogators shared a glance before looking at me. My determination quickly crumbled into dust, sucked up by a vacuum of fear, as well as Pumpkin's lungs as she took in an enormous breath.

Sergeant Smash is a good name. Very fitting for what she did to that table.

The warden carried me to a waiting room near the lobby of the prison, for visitors. Unlike the old-fashioned construction on the lower floors, the upper levels were more similar in appearance to a dentist's office. Linoleum and muted pastel carpets abound. I was getting ready for a drill in my skull at any moment, maybe a literal one this time. The floor tiles were suddenly as intriguing as a certain table. They still hadn't taken off the cuffs and dis-bands, so the warden simply dropped me onto a bench like a sack of guilty potatoes.

The warden looked at me with an odd expression somewhere between pity and smug satisfaction. "Miss Apology, I know that you understand the gravity of the situation here, so I won't be berating you. Sergeant Smash took care of that in spades." She took a seat next to me, gentle as silk. A far cry from the raving mare who wanted to "pluck me like a goose in a pillow factory."

"We've had rehabilitators working with the Baltimare Penitentiary for many years, and in those years, none have had as successful of a record as you, Lily. I don't doubt your methods one bit."

"You're too kind," I said. "Seriously. Please say mean things instead, so I can forgive you instead of feeling awful."

"It doesn't feel good to be on the other end of a bad deed, does it?" She replied, chuckling for a second before returning to her usual even-keeled demeanor. "Even the best of us make mistakes. Isn't that one of your steps to forgiveness?"

"Yes, but this is a really, very big mistake. Shouldn't I be, you know, punished?"

"Do you wish to be imprisoned?" There was a certain sudden eagerness in the way she spoke that made me shiver from my head to the tip of my tail. I dared to look down at her cutie mark: a pair of hooves locked up in manacles. I tried looking away, only to see my own hooves locked up too. The floor was starting to seem highly attractive again.

"No... But there ought to be something! Dangerous ponies are out there, free to roam because of my stupid flank!" I flushed, flattening my ears. "Sorry about the foul language, warden."

"Working here as long as I have, you get used to that, Miss Apology," the warden said. "While it is true you've caused us all some trouble, so long as there was no conspiracy planned between the prisoners and yourself, I can chalk it up to a fault in the system, so to speak. We are notably understaffed, and almost all the equipment in this facility is highly outdated. The rehabilitation program is currently our best method at dealing with unruly, erm, guests." The warden closed her eyes. "If you tell me it was an accident, then I believe you."

"That's... trusting of you." I said, looking up from the floor.

She must have heard the uncertainty in my voice, because she opened her eyes again, looking directly at me. "You wouldn't tell a convincing lie if you thought that lie might cause harm to an ant. Celestia knows, virtues like honesty and kindness are hard to come by these days. But Equestria doesn't run on good intentions alone, and the truly righteous are rarer than ever before," Warden Fetter said, eyeing me curiously, "and I know you don't think freeing a collection of dangerous criminals would help them, either. You're naive, not stupid."

"So, what happens now?" I said, blushing in embarrassment.

"Now..." The warden furrowed her brow and began thinking, which was enough to give me the shivers again. She was a pony who liked to stick to the books as much as possible, but that didn't mean her punishments didn't get a bit creative at times.

"Yow!" I yelped, as my wingtip was plucked. The dove-gray feather did a dance in the air, before hovering back toward me in the crimson grip of Fetter's magic. A single tear welled up in my eye. I just preened those!

"What happens now is as follows: I'm sending in a report to D.E.F.E.R. for your temporary suspension due to negligence, in order to undergo a rigorous training regimen on correct protocols," she said. "It should take a few weeks, and you get to spend some time back in Canterlot. You were planning on taking a short vacation there soon anyways, right?"

"Oh. That's right." I knew I was in trouble, but the warden sure made it seem like it was nothing. I wonder how she knew about the vacation though. Someone at D.E.F.E.R. must have mentioned it.

"I'll also recommend that they send Sun Downer to keep an eye on you, just to ensure things go smoothly."

"Oh." That was a name I hadn't heard in a while. Sun Downer wasn't the easiest pony to interact with. Even less so if you were "under her supervision," but it could've been worse...

"I'm also going to tickle you relentlessly with this nice feather here, in front of any staff members present." She added. A few of the guards and desk ponies turned to look in our direction with varying degrees of amusement and horror.

"Oh." I blinked. "Wait. Seriously?"

The warden nodded solemnly, as if a dire punishment had been sentenced.

"Um, actually, please don't do that. N-not in f-front of all these other p-p-ponieeeees!" There was no use in begging. The warden was merciless in her assault, and I couldn't do a thing but cackle and squirm and cry.

"N-no! S-stop it! J-just arrest m-me insteeeeead!"

"You've been what?"

"Suspended from duty." I rubbed at my forehead, wiping away residual tears. I didn't even know if they were from laughing or from being sad anymore. The incessant ticking of a clock bounced around on the inside my skull, but there was no clock in the prison phone booth I was crammed into.

"I don't really want to talk about-"

"Talk about what? Are you okay? Tell me what happened!"

"Can I just-"

"Tell me tell me tell meeeee!" I had to hold the phone away from my ear before my head exploded from the sound waves. Something in her voice rattles the synapses like nothing else.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." I said, defeated. Grape Vine could be quite pushy when she wanted to be. Some might even call her a nuisance, often to her face. She tends to take it as a compliment. "But, Vinny, please don't go around telling everyone about this. I know it's your talent to spread information and all, but this kind of thing could come back to bite me hard."

"Oh, don't you worry, Lily. There are a hundred stories I'll be spreading around town that don't involve you in any way. My hooves are full as it is," she reassured, though it wasn't reassuring at all. Maybe I'd leave out some of the key details. Namely, the gross negligence and subsequent prison break.

"One of my clients was a little more... difficult than expected. I'm okay, but I'm being sent back to Canterlot for a while." A few weeks would be a lot longer- and sooner -than the vacation I had planned.

Grape Vine whistled through the receiver. "Wow, somepony even you couldn't handle? Must have been a real piece of pecan pie, that one. And I hate pecans! What was her name?"

"I don't know if I'm allowed to say..." I said. "Wait, how do you know the client is a 'she'?"

"I didn't." She said, and I facehoofed. Loudly, based on the looks I got.

"Come on, a simple name won't hurt anyone. It's only a little trivia for a bored young lady." I could practically hear her grinning on the other end of the line. There was a crack in the dam and soon she was going to have the whole river to drink for herself. Thankfully, I already cried out an entire river; she'd have to scrape the mud at the bottom to get anything out of me.

"Look, I'll tell you about it when I'm in town, how does that sound?"

"Oh, fine. I'll wait." Her disappointment was tangible, but she immediately perked up again. "Where are you staying? Do you still have that tiny horseshoe box of a rowhouse on Orion Avenue?"

"Actually, that's kind of the reason why I called," I said, scratching the back of my head. Asking for favors always feels so wrong. "Do you think I could stay with you in Canterlot for a little while? I've been renting out my old place to this darling little unicorn mare with the sweetest singing voice, and I couldn't bear to kick her out on such short notice, and-"

"Wait, you want to come stay at my place? Really?"

"Yeah? Why do you sound so surprised?" I asked.

"Nobody ever wants to spend time with me at home, for some reason. I have no idea why," she said. "Oh, but how great is this? We'll have so much to talk about, and you'll have so much to tell me..."

It was going to be a long few weeks.

Apart from some disdainful sneers from the staff members, I was allowed to leave Baltimare Penitentiary without any additional fuss. The warden signed off all my papers and I did my best to keep my head low so that Pumpkin wouldn't get the urge to knock it off my shoulders. Most of the commotion of the breakout had resolved while I was asleep, so the only thing left to do was a mountain of paperwork. Thank Celestia, there were no injuries besides residual headaches, bellyaches, and my entire sense of self-confidence. I overheard some ponies saying only a small hoofful of prisoners had actually gotten away and were currently being tracked down by the police. No genuinely threatening individual was kept in any prison outside of Tartarus itself, but there was undoubtedly going to be some mischief in town for the next few day. Or weeks. Months?

There was just the matter of going home to pack my luggage. And tend to the garden. And maybe a short cry in the shower. Or right now in the halls. Yeah, it was happening already. Time to go.

Nopony bothered me as I exited through the front doors. The sun hadn't started peeking up from over the horizon, but the sky had begun shifting from black to a mystical shade of dark blue. Upon exiting the threshold of the front steps, I was hit with a wall of fresh winter cold that I had forgotten about, and drew in my wings to keep warm. Nopony was outside. The parking lot still had a thin layer of snow that was mostly brown mush. The environmental simulator enchantments in the facility don't include the low temperatures of winter, nor any inclement precipitation, for practical reasons.

It's always springtime in jail.

Sniffing, I took some time to watch little fog clouds of my breath fade into oblivion. The stars above were fading away into the endless swath of icy blue. My nose was going numb from the cold, but I wanted to see a little bit of Celestia's orange sunlight before I made the flight home. I couldn't remember the last time I was awake at such an early hour. It was like a whole different world, again...

"Lily!"

Snapped out of my trance, I looked back at the prison entrance, where a wild orange blur was barreling towards me. Instinctively, I covered my face, bracing for impact.

Skidding to a halt, I swear Pumpkin's horseshoes left burn marks on the asphalt. It also splashed me all over with a wash of muddy snow-sludge. Judging by her concerned expression, it wasn't done out of malice. She might have a temper, but there wasn't a mean fiber in her being.

"Sorry about that, sugarcube." She said, taking a hoofkerchief out of her saddlebags, handing to me. "Warden said you'd left already, but I know you."

"What do you mean?" I said, wiping down my face and wings.

"I know you wouldn't leave until you got to finish saying your sorries, and I was still all burnt up something fierce when the warden wrangled you off and a half-dozen officers rushed me with all their after-action reports." She stopped suddenly, as if surprised by what she said.

"What's wro-" I started to ask, before being sprayed with spit and mucus.

"Achoo! Hah. Whoops. Sorry 'bout that. Cold and I get along like changelings and rock farmers," she said, handing me another hoofkerchief, which I took graciously. It was a good excuse to wipe the tears away.

"Am I that predictable?" I asked.

"Nah, only with this kind of thing." She straightened out her uniform. There were bags under her eyes and her hair was looking wild, but her face was calm. Those zebra meditation lessons she started attending were making an impact. Either that or she got all the rage out of his system on a poor table already.

"I hardly know what goes on in that funny head o'yours, but I do know you're all about turning wrongs into rights," she gave me a little nudge, "so go on then, Lily. Say sorry so I can forgive you, so you can get on home and tuck yourself in before your trip."

"Okay..." I twisted my hoof around in the snow, feeling a tingle from my cutie marks.

"Sergeant Smash, I apologize for the mistakes I've made. It was dumb to neglect basic protocol when dealing with potential dangers, even if I thought I was doing the right thing. I let my personal opinions influence my actions in ways that hurt others, and that's not okay. I've created a lot of extra work for you and I'm being sent away without a chance to help fix this or help you in any way." I paused to breathe.

"Will you forgive me, sergeant?"

She sighed, smiling tiredly. "Course I do, sugarcube. Just try and make sure you don't let your good nature get you hurt, y'hear?" She scratched the back of her head. "Besides, I'm sorry too, for being so cross with you. The warden calls it 'unprofessional,' but I know what she means. I might disagree with you about how you handle things, but that ain't no reason to be shouting your ears off. We're on the same side anyhow."

At that, my cutie marks radiated a kind of warmth, as a brilliant sensation flooded through my entire being. Apparently, it's a unique sensation caused by my talent. It isn't pleasure, nor is it pain. It's not even truly physical. It was a feeling as though everything in the world was perfect, for a single, fleeting moment.

"I forgive you, Pumpkin."

"Great," she said, "oh, and don't let nopony hear you calling me Pumpkin, neither. I mean it!"

Leaving Baltimare was blessedly uneventful, up until the train ride. I have a habit of packing light, and the magically-enhanced fertilizer would ensure all the flowers in my garden would stay healthy for about a month or two, even in the biting Baltimare winter. Most of them, that is. Spring was coming around the corner anyway.

D.E.F.E.R. gets most of its funding straight from the authority of the princesses themselves, which meant any rehabilitator in need of rapid transportation could easily find themselves in the first-class cabin of an express train. It didn't feel right, to be spending so lavishly on a pony who was basically being sent to a glorified detention. Normally, I would've accepted the economy-class seating, but the privacy of a personal room felt somewhat desirable in light of recent events. I spent most of the ride staring out the window at the rapidly passing landscape. Endless fields of white stretched out for miles, ending in the muted silhouettes of far-off mountains.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is-" I said, turning to my side.

It was Leap Year, sitting right next to me. My head hit the ceiling.

"Whoa there! I'm not that ugly, am I?" She said, as I tumbled back to the ground, rattled for one too many times in one day.

"How- what- you- huh?" I sputtered, as tiny doves orbited around my head. I shut my eyes tight, shaking my head.

"Um, you all right there?" She asked, with real concern in her voice.

"Yes, I'm okay. I'm going to open my eyes and you're going to be gone, or you're going to be somepony else and this was a big misunderstanding." I said, not sure which option would be better.

I opened my eyes to a yellow unicorn making a ridiculous, teasing face. Shimmering blue eyes, blinding white mane, obnoxious yellow coat. Terror was momentarily put on hold as my eyes trained in on the infernal trinket dangling around her neck: a plump, multicolored gemstone wrapped in what looked like twisting branches made of pure gold. It was exactly as I had remembered it about eight years ago.

"W-what are you doing here?" I said. "I'm not asleep! At least, I think..."

"Quit trembling, Lily. It's making me uncomfortable," she said. "Again, I'm not really here. You aren't asleep though, just crazy in the head."

Somehow, that was comforting. "Okay, less panicked now." I exhaled deeply. Very deeply. "What's going on? You've been showing up in my dreams more and more, and now you're even bothering me while I'm awake?"

"Hey, I'm not really in control of this. Although, I do enjoy visiting you in particular. It's always such a laugh," she sneered.

"So you're not a fragment of my imagination?"

"Like I said before, it's complicated. Besides, why would you believe anything I say?" she said.

"Somepony recently told me I'm naive. I'm sure they're right."

"You believe that because you're not stupid. You see the world as it is, as much as you want to see it in the best possible light." Leap Year said, in a strangely soft tone. "There's a fine line to be found there. I don't have the subtlety to know where it is though."

There was a knock at the cabin door that made my mane stand on end. The door opened, as an attendant pushed in a cart laden with dozens of snacks and goodies. "Excuse me, miss, would you care for any refreshments?"

"Yeah! Can I get a tray of pecan cookies, a jar of some peppermint sticks, and a half-dozen chocolate glazed doughnuts?" Leap Year said. "Oh, and a slice of that carrot cake, too. You can put it on her tab."

I winced at the magnitude of the order, only to realize the train attendant waiting patiently as I spaced out.

Coughing, I addressed the attendant. "Sorry. One piece of carrot cake, please," I said, as Leap Year feigned dismay. The cart of treats probably smelled delicious, but there was still a hint of bodily decomposition in my sinuses that made it hard to think of eating much.

I put the cake on the windowsill as the attendant left the two of us alone in the compartment again. Leap Year immediately leapt up to snatch the dessert, only for her arm to phase through it as though it wasn't there. It was my turn to giggle at someone else's expense.

"You've got no idea just how much time-travel makes you crave sweets, you heartless filly."

"Yes I do. I don't even plan on eating this." I said, resting my head on the windowsill.

"How could you taunt me like this? It's been over a century since I last ate!"

What a drama queen. "You don't even exist, except to creep me out and make me think I'm crazy."

"Oh, but I do exist!" She said. "That's part of the reason why our paths seem to be crossing more so than usual. Surely, you haven't forgotten our upcoming date." She made an effort to look charming. Or I imagined her looking charming. Hmm.

"Leap day, huh?" I said, abruptly shifting my attention back to the window outside. Not too far off, the fantastic city of Canterlot sat on its perch, hanging off the side of a great mountain. It had been a while, hadn't it? Something about the royal capital seemed so timeless. While the rest of the world surged ahead in technology and modernized its appearance more and more every year, Canterlot always felt like Canterlot. Spires and castles. Old fashioned. Classic. Outdated, even. Like it didn't belong in this world at all.

"The infamous Februmarey twenty-ninth!" Leap Year proclaimed, procuring a scroll from underneath her robe. "Why the princesses insist on including leap years and days in the official Equestrian calendar has been a source of mystery to astronomers for centuries, though it could probably be passed off as a work of royal Alicorn whimsy," she read aloud.

Fun fact, it's also my birthday.

"On that day, I should be zapping back into the time stream. Ooh, it's only a couple more weeks! Hard to believe it's been eight years since our last meeting, since its only been a few minutes in my subjective time." She smirked, and I felt something ignite somewhere deep inside my gut. "You will bring me a cake to celebrate our reunion, won't you, Lily?"

"Like Tartarus I will!" I spat. "I'll have members of the royal guard monitoring your re-entry, and you'll be thrown in a pit until you tell me how to get back!" Fuming, I couldn't help but think I was spending too much time around Pumpkin Smash. Anger was usually something I saw other ponies experience, not something to experience myself. It felt terrible, but also terribly good.

The train lurched and the window shot open, the sound of rushing wind pouring into the cabin, as Leap Year laughed. "That's not how it works, unfortunately. Canterlot would never authorize a mission like that because I'd just bring those guards with me in my next leap. You'd have even more explaining to do to those families facing sudden loss."

My blood went from lava to ice in an instant. Even if this was an elaborate hallucination, I couldn't take that as an empty threat. I could never let anyone else risk going through... that. The rattling of wheels on train tracks started to grow into a busy clamor. Strange, considering the private chambers are usually given extra soundproofing.

"Besides, even if you do toss me in a pit, that won't solve the real problem you have here." Leap Year's voice projected over the noise clear as day. "You have no idea what to do with me."

"I'd feel a lot better, at least." I panted, feeling suddenly feverish. The ambient noise was so loud that I almost had to cover my ears. It was the endless sound of metal on metal. A constant rhythm. Click click click.

"You would not feel better!" She shouted. "You can't get me out of your head!"

It was so quiet, all I could hear was my heartbeat.

It sounded like a ticking clock.

The whole train plunged into darkness, and I saw nothing, save for a bright yellow ghost wreathed in a sapphire-blue nebula. When she spoke, the words came not from a mouth, but from invisible machines that echoed off of walls that weren't there.

"After what I've done to you, how could you forgive me? You can't, but you have to. You won't, but you will." She said.

I tried to speak out, but my throat and lungs were filled with some kind of sand that made me wheeze and choke.

"You had better make up your mind before long. Time is running out."

I opened up my mouth to speak, but only sand poured out, swirling away into the endless void.

3. The City That Can Never Get Any Sleep

It turns out, getting most of your sleep by unwillingly blacking out does not provide a feeling of being well-rested. Quite the opposite, actually.

I came to with my head pressed up against the window glass, cheeks covered in uneaten carrot cake. It didn't make for a very good pillow. Of course that was just a dream. Or hallucination. Or both. I made a mental note to check Rafflesia's records later to see if the long-term side effects of inhaling her breath included ominously symbolic hallucinations and other chemically-induced nightmares. Hopefully D.E.F.E.R. would have an extra copy to borrow.

"At attention pretty passengers! Runaway Railway has heartily arrived at our ordinarily delightful destination: one wonderful capital Canterlot!" The train announcer sure had a knack for a little alliteration.

Wiping vanilla icing out of my mane, I spotted Grape Vine waiting on the platform. She looked about ready to jump out of her hide, she was so excited. In fact, it seemed like she was telling all the others waiting on the platform just how excited she was. Somepony had to stop her, and that somepony was me.

Massaging my face, I began to steel my nerves for social interaction. Normally it isn't that difficult, but in light of recent mental escapades, I felt there might be a need to re-center things. No cosmic anomalies, no imaginary figures from the past, and no clocks. Just a reformed blackmail artist that could socially pressure a lump of coal into diamonds. Just act normal. Don't be a bother.

Stepping out of the train car, I took a breath as Grape Vine pushed her way to the front of the crowd, her vibrant green mane bobbing up and down as the ponies in her path dispersed. Before long, she was all over me, a ball of energy that feeds on dark thoughts and scandal. A great friend to have.

"Lily! How was your ride? This new perfume you're wearing smells absolutely tasty! I hope you got plenty of rest, because you have so much to tell me about everything." There was a glint in her eyes, and I could already feel the secrets being yanked from my inner consciousness. Thankfully, a sticky slurry of lethargy kept me from spilling all my darkest secrets right there on the spot. Nobody needs to know about the thing with the fireworks and the hot air balloon. Or the prison break.

"The ride was good. Really good. As good as a really goofy good... thing?" I said, my eyes drawn to a tiny metal ring around the base of her horn.

"What was that? You're mumbling." She pushed right up against me, eyes wide and prying. She was probably doing the thing she does with the micro expressions and breathing pattern analysis, but I wasn't having any of it.

"Was I? I'm just a little tired, that's all." I scrunched my face into a grin that was more of a grimace, then shivered. "Brr, it sure is cold out here. Let's hurry inside someplace." The train's whistle blew, shocking me awake, sort of.

"Dearly departing! Now, next stop: sleepy, peaceful Ponyville!" The train announcer said saliently.

"Going now!" I said, trotting off in a random direction. Random, but conveniently, away.

Grape Vine raised an eyebrow, suspicion painting her features. "Okay. Hey, Lily, wait a sec!" She called out.

"Hmm? What is it?" I called back.

"Didn't you bring anything with you? You can use my stuff all you want, but it's kind of weird to bring nothing," Grape Vine pointed at my empty back.

"Oh. I did bring some luggage, didn't I?" I said, looking back at an equally empty train platform. The train chugged and whistled far off in the distance, as I lamented the loss of a toothbrush, some winter clothes, and maybe just a few official D.E.F.E.R. documents that I was supposed to keep private.

Oh, ponyfeathers.

It took some convincing, but after a quick phone call to Ponyville to ensure the luggage would be secured and mailed to me, I told Grape Vine to head home while I stopped by my old place to get some essentials, which may or may not have included some sleep. Besides, the vivid colors in her wardrobe would clash heavily with my own muted color scheme. Not that I care about that stuff... much. Thankfully, the spare saddlebags she lent me were a nice neutral beige.

I was halfway up the steps to by old home on Orion Avenue when I heard a voice, barely audible.

"Excuse me, but are you s...spa...the... filly? Um..."

It took a bit to comprehend that. "Yes, I think that's me. You can call me 'Lily' though." I said, with trepidation. How long had she been there? I had to do a double take to make sure I hadn't imagined her.

"Oh, that's... good. I'm s...Sun d-down... Err..." She tried to speak, long hair covering most of her face.

I ran through the catalog of paint swatches in my mind. Dusky violet body, carmine-red mane. Watery orange eyes that never seemed to meet my own. "Sun Downer, right? We've met before, in a training program a few years back." I said, biting my tongue. Hopefully I didn't come off too strong.

"Oh, I'm so, so sorry about that. Forgetting you, that is." She said, keeping her head bowed low to the ground. I thought she was going to cry right then and there, the way her voice trembled.

"No, no! It's all right, don't apologize, really. It was a short meeting, even I barely remember." I said. I tried an awkward laugh, but Sun Downer didn't respond at all, rubbing her hoof distractedly on the sidewalk. Talking to Sun Downer was like trying to balance an egg on your nose while walking a hundred yards. One slip and you've got an awful mess on your hooves.

"Well, this is my house." I said. "I would invite you in, but it's probably a... an awful mess right now." I chose to withhold the fact that I wasn't actually going to be staying there.

"No, it's okay. I wouldn't want to. I'm just here to verify that you arrived safely, without any problems. Y-you know, because I'm your m-minder. I guess I'll leave now," she said.

"Okay. See you around, Sun Downer." I said, waving. She didn't look back, flapping her wings with the force of thunderclaps. Fast as a bullet, she rocketed up into the sky until she was a tiny speck in the distance. Probably to a "safety cloud," to defuse the stress of having a social interaction. There was a period of time when I used those, several years ago, but it took me far longer to reach them with my weak wings. I had to manually lift my jaw from its hanging position after that spectacle of flying prowess, though. The term "wing-envy" came barreling into mind. My own were feeling particularly flaccid and puny at that moment.

"What in Equestria was that?" Standing in my doorway was a pretty white unicorn with a curly mane. She still had a bit of a voice crack when speaking, despite being all grown up. "Oh hey there, Lily! What are you doing here all of a sudden?"

"Hi Sweetie Belle, I was just stopping by to pick up a couple things. Don't worry, I'll be out of your way before you know it."

I didn't know Sweetie incredibly well, but I was aware of her breathtaking singing talent, as well as a certain prominent sister she had. That whole world was far outside my scope of affairs, though. If there is ever a world-threatening danger out there, let me be the last to know.

"You can stay as long as you want, you know. It's kind of your own house," she said, opening the door wider with her light green magic.

"Oh, and Lily," Sweetie Belle said with a wink, "I think you'll be glad to see it's not an 'awful mess' in here at all. Just a tiny one."

I think by "tiny mess," Sweetie Belle meant that my home was tiny, and also a mess. Walking around was like navigating a hedge maze, only instead of hedges there were low-lying stacks of packed boxes. Still, it didn't take long to find a spare toothbrush and some other things that I didn't want to "owe" Grape Vine. It was already bad enough I had to stay at her place.

We sat down and made small talk before I explained the reason for my visit in more detail, leaving out the whole prison break part. Sweetie looked on in concern as I tried not to let my eyes be drawn to the bed, or the sofa, or the floor. Anywhere I could sleep, really.

"You sure that me staying here isn't a problem for you? I could always go back to my parents," she said.

"It's completely fine," I said. "You've already paid for the month and Grape Vine's place is much closer to the D.E.F.E.R. building where I'll be doing my training. Besides, this is your first time living alone, isn't it?"

"That's right, you remembered!" She was beaming. "Now that I'm eighteen, my parents finally decided to let me have my own place. Big sis is super proud of me!" She beamed, before contemplating. "At least, I think she is. It's hard to tell because she's so busy with all the clothes business stuff. She thought I should find a place that was more refined, but I think it's just right, and- hey, are you okay?"

"Hmm?" I hadn't noticed until then, but I found myself suddenly breathless. "I'm okay. Just a little... motion sick from the train ride, you know?" Forcing out a yawn, I took some time to steady my racing heart.

"I totally get that. There was this one time Apple Bloom, Scoots, and I were going to Appleloosa-"

"Sorry, but I really have to get going." For some reason, I felt off in a way I did not appreciate. Maybe it was sleep deprivation, but I wasn't about to deny my sense of paranoia its pleasure.

"Would you like some tea to help get rid of the nausea? Or a quick nap, even? I can move all the... stuff off of the bed for you." Bless Celestia, what a sweet girl. There was a lot of stuff on that bed.

It was tempting, but I bit the inside of my lip. "No, that's all right. Grape Vine will probably be calling in favors from news reporters with access to air chariots if I don't get back to her soon." I said. "I'll be sure to visit sometime while I'm still in Canterlot, though. Maybe I'll even catch a show, if you can send me a ticket."

Sweetie Belle perked up, not seeming to notice my strain, then suddenly shifted into a dramatic, haughty demeanor. "Who says 'The Great and Beautiful Belle' will even have a single ticket to spare for her nationally-acclaimed performances?"

"I'll just buy one then. It might be a couple month's salary, but-"

"No no no! I'm just kidding!" She squeaked, covering her mouth. "Gosh. You must be the meanest-nicest pony I know," she said, pretend-pouting.

"Sorry?"

"Ugh!" She said, laughing in spite of herself.

What can I say? It was contagious.

Sweetie Belle ended up giving me a VIP pass to any one of her shows, which she convinced me to take by saying that I didn't have to use it if I didn't want to. After all, it's rude to refuse a gift.

I was halfway to Grape Vine's house when I stumbled over a fire hydrant, falling into a drift of dirty snow. I swear, it came out of nowhere.

It wasn't very late in the day, but thanks to winter weather, the darkness and cold were eager to arrive. Darkness and cold make me tired. I was playing a little game with myself, where I would close my eyes and pretend like I was sleepwalking for a while, then open them and muse over the distance I'd traveled. Maybe it wasn't really a game. It was fun, though.

Maybe some coffee was in order. Thank Celestia for Donut Joe's.

Even from blocks away, the heavenly smells of coffee and doughnuts could be found snaking through the streets like tentacles eager to snag unwitting Canterlot patrons by their upturned noses. Sure, coffee and doughnuts are a bit strange to have to an early dinner, but for me it was more of a "first meal in a day and a half." Nothing is weird for that meal.

I had just sat myself down at the bar with a plate of strawberry-glazed with sprinkles and a steaming mug of black coffee when I noticed someone taking a seat right next to me. I was content to keep them in my peripheral vision, but they seemed intent on inching closer and closer to me, to the point where they were outright nudging me in the side.

"Can I help you?" I said, burning my mouth with the coffee. Even sudden pain didn't help wake me up at this point.

"You already have."

Setting down a doughnut in mid-bite, I slowly turned to look at my new dinner guest. A big, bruised peach, trying yet failing to be inconspicuous in a hood and trench coat.

"R-raff-"

"Shh!" She hastily shoved a doughnut in my mouth. I couldn't even savor the sugary goodness as I readied myself for... something. I'm not much of a fighter- actually, I'm not even remotely a fighter. If I thought something violent was going to happen, I'd probably curl up into a little ball. So that's probably what I tried to do just then. Considering how exhausted I was, I mostly just laid my head down on the counter and put my hooves on my head.

Rafflesia must have noticed my mental egress, because she gave me a gentle nudge and shook her head. "Let's keep our voices down. I'm not here for any kind of trouble. I'm here to thank you."

I finished chewing up the pastry and looked at her again, prefacing my response with a comically large gulp. "You're welcome?" I said, spraying some sweet strawberry sprinkles.

"For letting me out of that awful place. It was- urgh-" Something caught in her throat, and I reeled back, covering my nose.

"Sorry about that," she said, with a raspy voice. "It's just been rough lately, is all." She seemed to drift into thought. It was a look I was all too familiar with.

Calming down, I took a sip and a bite, analyzing her disheveled state: shrunken pupils, a smearing of dirt and dust, teeth clenched in stress. She was more of a mess than myself, somehow. More than anything else, she seemed frightened, and in need of help.

"Hey, how come everyone in this diner isn't passing out in their cereal bowls right now? Not that anypony is eating cereal for dinner." I asked. It took some time for the words to come to her, but they did.

"I control it. Barely." She reassured, though it wasn't reassuring at all.

"Ooookay then." I said. "Joe! Can I please get another half-dozen doughnuts and a coffee?" I called out.

"Sure thing, ma'am." Joe said, picking up some tongs with his mouth.

There was a slight wheeze from Rafflesia that almost could have passed for a laugh. "You sure can eat, Lily. My family'd like you," she said, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"Thanks, but the order's not for me. It's for you. I doubt you've eaten more than a bite of grass in the past day and a half. You're getting drool all over your costume."

She paused, blinking, as a plate and cup were placed in front of her.

"You don't seem like you have any experience being undercover," I said, gesturing at her costume. "You look like you're playing a suspicious character in a movie or something. Wearing sunglasses at night, indoors, just makes you stand out."

I half-expected some kind of retort, but instead I heard a faint sniffling. To my shock, Rafflesia seemed to be crying, as quietly as she could. Streams of tears trickled down her face as she gently hiccuped.

"Whoa, I wasn't trying to be that mean!" I rested an arm over her, drawing her slightly closer. I wasn't keen on being too close to that mouth of hers, but she seemed to be suppressing the death-breath well enough. "Tell me, what's wrong?"

"It's just, I'm real grateful for all this that you're doing." She said, the slightest hint of an accent peeking through, though I couldn't determine what it was. "I don't know how, but you know I'm innocent right?" She took off the sunglasses, staring into me with those huge eyes of hers. They were so pure, so clear. Desperation glistened in that expression.

"I... don't know." I said. "But whatever it is that you did or didn't do doesn't matter to me. You seem like a good pony at heart, and that's what matters." At that, her demeanor seemed to brighten up, though an obvious sadness still lingered. My eyes were drawn to her beaten up face and body again.

"Would you mind explaining all the injuries?" I asked, cautiously. "Seeing how you aren't criminally inclined, do you play contact sports or have some other job involving physical altercations?" I smiled, as I caught myself falling into the old D.E.F.E.R. vernacular. Basically, it's just the use of lots of proper-sounding words.

Rafflesia looked down at her body, examining the damages.

"I'm a gardener, through and through. The jungle where I do my cultivating is home to a whole host of ornery critters. Sometimes I got to show them who's the boss."

"The biggest threat my garden ever faced was a bunny." I said. She laughed at that.

"Another thing. How did you manage to track me down here? I'm assuming this meeting isn't a coincidence." I said.

"Oh, that there is easy to explain. You outright told me just about exactly where you lived before I... y'know. I didn't mean to do it, honest! It's just, I was so excited that you were letting me go that I forgot for a second." Rafflesia blushed before continuing. I guess having bad breath was embarrassing, even if it was hyperbolic as that. She waited until Donut Joe went into the back room before continuing, speaking as low as possible.

"Once it happened, the guards got real angry and came after me with weapons, so I just breathed on them too. I was so scared, you know I had to do it to 'em. I found out pretty quick that their hooves had the dis-band removal counterspells. I tried to leave quietly, but then the other prisoners started threatening to scream and shout if I didn't let them out too, so I got a couple out and they made a big fuss. I escaped first, before too many others did." She stopped to sip the coffee, fumbling with the cup.

"And then I figured I couldn't go back home until things got cleared up some more, and I thought that since you're somepony who can really accept and understand all kinds of ponies, you would be all sympathetic-like and help me clear up my case. I was waiting outside your place for a while, and so was this other pegasus. She seemed real uncomfortable and jittery, so I just kept my head low until I saw you come over and talk to her. After that, I stayed in the alley until you left and started stumbling around in the street."

"Now we're here." I said, sipping the last remainder of my coffee. A layer of fog lifted from my mind. From what I overheard from the officers at Baltimare Penitentiary, the APB they put out didn't reach far outside of Baltimare. The warden seemed certain that the escapees were not worth that much trouble, based on reports. That being said, it would be a bad look to be seen with Rafflesia. That was an unfortunate puzzle that could be pieced together.

"You aren't from Canterlot, are you? Your accent doesn't fit. It's all over the place." I said.

"That's right. I was just visiting my Baltimare hothouse when things started falling apart. I was born in Sumaretra, south of the Hayseed Swamps, along the coast." She said. "Though, I did spend a lot of years growing up in Manehattan and Appleloosa. So I don't know what I sound like. I do a lot of travelling, and nopony can guess where I'm really from. Guess it's cause I'm not really from anywhere."

"I know how that feels."

"You do?"

Oops. "Um. Yeah, I do. We can talk about that later." I got up from my seat, leaving some bits on the counter.

"Where are you going?" Rafflesia said. She started to follow me, abandoning her dinner and donning her full disguise again. "I'll come with you."

"No, you can't!" I said, surprised at myself for the intensity of the outburst. "Trust me, the mare I'm living with will make you very uncomfortable. Especially with you being as interesting as you are. She has ways of getting ponies to talk."

A wave of guilt washed over me as I saw her spirits sink. Surely, I was the one thing she had her hopes riding on. How could I let down a stranger in her time of need?

Digging in my pockets again, I gathered up a decent portion of bits.

"Here. Take these, and find an inn or hotel to stay in. I can help you out, but you have to keep a low profile." It felt cool to say something like that, but there wasn't any time to revel in it.

Rafflesia just stared, wide eyed from behind her sunglasses.

"No, this is way too kind. How can I take this and not hate myself?"

"Don't think anything of it, really. I feel like it's my fault you're in a mess this big because of what I did." I pushed the money harder at her. "Take it. Please. We can meet again soon, and sort things out."

Rafflesia stood there for a few agonizing seconds. The decision seemed to tear at her ethics and morals far more than I could have anticipated. I was almost tempted to wave a hoof in front of her face to be certain she was still conscious. Finally, she took the bits from me, like a foal reluctantly eating a brussels sprout off their parent's fork.

"Fine. How will I know where to reach you?" She said, putting the bag away in her trench coat pocket.

I took out a napkin and pen, writing down an address.

"Meet me at this location six days from now, around this same time. If I'm not alone, do not make contact, and we'll organize a different meeting. See you then." I opened the door to leave, when my stomach grumbled. My attention turned back to the counter top, where Rafflesia's half-finished doughnuts still sat. Rafflesia noticed my distraction, smiling warmly.

"Maybe I can stay just a minute longer."

4. You Do the Time, You Do the Crime

The next four days passed by like a fever dream. It didn't help that I caught a fever from spending too much time freezing my wings off in the cold. I made a mental note to visit a doctor, chiropractor, spa, and a cider store. Hard cider. The hardest.

That first night I wandered back to Grape Vine's house was... the hardest. All my shivering couldn't shake off Rafflesia's desperate, nervous energy out of consciousness, so I may have lost my way around the city and stumbled upon a cider establishment. Mercifully for my aching wallet, I’m about as light as a feather when it comes to alcohol.

By the time I reached the right neighborhood, I was hardly a pony. The entirety of my being felt composed of mucus, sprinkles, and yawns. Not my proudest moment, but not my worst. It was too dark and snowy too see anyone else on the streets, so I took solace in the imagined privacy. My cheeks felt rosy, like the dove's eyes on my cutie mark. I laughed at my own inane observation until I tripped and fell on my chin, biting the tip of my tongue so hard it might have come off.

"Oww..." I looked behind to see what I tripped on: an oversized plant limb lying in the middle of the sidewalk. Too green to be a tree root, too large to be ignored. My eyes followed the trail to its source, squiggling little figure-eights in their sockets.

To the unfamiliar, Grape Vine's house would seem thoroughly abandoned. Countless tangles of vines and ivy crept along every surface, framing around a stark few circular windows. I couldn't remember what the building was actually made out of, or what color it was painted. All I knew was that I should look out for the enclave of jungle carved out of the otherwise opulent aesthetic of Canterlot. There was probably something reminiscent of a pint-sized castle underneath somewhere. You'd just need a machete or a map to get in any way besides the designated footpath leading to the front door.

Kicking way too much snow and ice off of my horseshoes, I got a closer look at the welcome mat, which encouragingly read: "Open Up!"

I yawned, releasing what I imagined to be about half of my body heat.

"That's all she's getting out of me," I muttered to myself. My hoof was centimeters from knocking on the door when it swung hard, letting out a resounding metallic clang against my shoe as I recoiled back, teeth chattering from more things than one. Grape Vine stood inside, frozen mid-action, and dressed up as if I'd just interrupted the start of her odyssey into the unexplored regions of the Frozen North.

She managed to speak. "Lily? Sorry about that! I was just so worried that you had gotten lost, I was about to go out there looking for you." She didn't need to tell me twice; she had herself wrapped up in so many scarves and coats that I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Well, you found me," I said as I entered the blessedly heated realm of indoors. The wave of heat melted away all the tension in my aching muscles at once, like a stream of water washing away dirt. Heat was good.

It had been several months, maybe a year since I had last set hoof in here. It was above average sized for a place in Canterlot, but the narrow halls were clearly not designed for the comfort of pegasi. Thankfully, the ceilings were high enough in the rooms to accommodate a bit of vertical movement. Not that I had any plans on using my wings at that moment. I couldn't come up with plans for anything at all in that state of mind.

Sniffling, I set down my saddlebags and dug around for something to wipe my leaking nose with. The tropical fruit perfume was seething from every surface, every piece of furniture. Or maybe the fruit-themed wallpaper plastered everywhere was playing mind tricks on my nose.

"Mind telling me what took you so long?" Grape Vine asked, shedding layers of gear. "Besides your little trip to Donut Joe's, that is." Her eyes glittered like two crystal balls.

Had she followed me? Had she seen me talking to Rafflesia? Grape Vine is perceptive enough to know that something unsavory was going on. She'd want to know all about it. Maybe she already cast that spell on me. I had to think of something, anything. I had to know.

"How did you know-" I began.

"The napkin," she said, pointing to what I was wiping my nose with. Surely enough, the soggy scrap of paper had the inky logo of a bitten doughnut printed on it.

I masked my sigh of relief by blowing my nose into the napkin again. Of course she wouldn't have done all that. I haven't done anything wrong, as far as she knows. Besides, her rehabilitation contract had a strict clause against the use of that spell.

I wrote the contract myself.

It's here that I should mention that Grape Vine was a convicted arcano-felon for the creation of the forbidden spell "Thorns of Truth." The spell she devised to coax information from ponies was considered a cruel and unusual usage of psychic and botanical magics.

The way the spell works is like this: when first cast, the target won't even notice they've been enchanted. If they decide to say something that they consider untruthful, a series of vines will start to grow in places where only hair ought to grow. Very rapidly, they will seek to wrap and tangle themselves around every limb and joint in reach. This will immobilize a pony before they can move a dozen meters, supposedly. From that point, any further lies are punished by spines that grow from the vines. They're tiny pinpricks at first, but the extent to which they can grow... I can understand why "Thorns" has been banned from usage.

Thankfully, the spell was never proven to have been actually used on a pony, and Grape Vine simply received a five-year sentencing instead of a twenty-to-life. The developmental scroll work was destroyed and D.E.F.E.R. issued a notification ring on her horn that would notify the department if the forbidden spell were ever to be cast. I entered into her life around the second year mark, and she was out before the season changed. We've been good friends ever since.

She was never allowed back on the police force after that incident, or anything regarding law enforcement. Freelance journalism work proved to be a much more successful field for her, knowing her talents. Usually they would be exposé pieces, or some juicy tape that would rile up the masses. There was no telling how much dirt she had on anyone with any dirt to discover.

It's important to add that Grape Vine has always been a righteous and benevolent soul, as long as I've known her. She might be harsh and nosy, but I firmly believe she is a good pony at heart. You just have to hack your way through a knot of other less-than-savory things before reaching said heart.

All of this being said, the next thing out of my mouth was only a tiny notch below "bold-faced lie." If I had any guilt to feel, it would have to wait in line behind a hundred other feelings. Impending doom was taking up the first dozen or so spots in that line.

"I ran into a fellow gardening enthusiast, and we had a good talk. Plus, I got kind of lost." I said. The back of my ear was suddenly incredibly itchy.

Grape Vine smiled at me in the most disconcerting way, as if she knew something I didn't and was just about to rub it in my face. I half-expected my hair to grow into restraints, but instead I felt an arm wrapped around my shoulders.

"You silly filly! I'll go start a bath for you, so you just get yourself settled in," she said, trotting off.

Ahh, yes.

It's a miracle what a tub of hot water and soap can do to restore one's sense of self, as well as one's senses of dignity, direction, smell, and maybe even common. Chamomile, lavender, and a little lemon zest never hurt anypony. Well, maybe the lemon, if it got in your eyes. Or a wound.

As I started to nod off in that bubbly pool of bliss, I jolted awake, slapping my face repeatedly, tugging at my drooping eyelids. This scenario was far too familiar. The last thing I wanted to close out the night was another unwelcome visit by Leap Year, in the bathtub no less. Thankfully, no time-obsessed unicorns appeared out of thin air as I lathered up my wings with some Dove-brand feather conditioner.

Choosing that quiet moment of solitude, I opted to set my future schedule in alignment, planning and visualizing out the next week or so. The bulk of each day would be attending the training programs, followed by some take-home work. Every day I'd report to my shy and surprisingly speedy minder. Every night I'd report to my prying and eerily cheery host.

At some point, I'd also have to squeeze in a couple personal trips that promised nothing but paranoia and catastrophe, but I jotted them down in the mental calendar anyways, slumping down further into the water.

Everything was in place. All that was left was the matter of actually pulling it off.

I'd tell you about my dreams that night, but they weren't particularly interesting. They were as normal for me as normal can be. Even Leap Year must get tired of pestering me all the time.

I used to think my dreams were scattered memories, but I wouldn't be so sure. Even if they were, there wasn't anything but a few frayed strings to work off of. At times I'm frolicking through tall grass, flying high above the cloud layer, or laughing over a dinner table.

Happy times. Simple times.

Waking up is weary work, isn't it?

It would prove to be bone-bendingly arduous, but I resolved to sit through every D.E.F.E.R. seminar, lecture, and workshop on time, even if they started at the crack of Celestia's dawn and ended at the fall of Luna's dusk. There wasn't anything else to do, after all.

I may have found the D.E.F.E.R. lectures to be educational if I hadn't already sat through them several years ago and practiced the material in the field for the years that followed. I could probably teach those classes better than a lot of the instructors appointed by the department, but my place was with the disillusioned and distant, not with starry-eyed recruits. Plus, speaking in front of large audiences gives me the willies. Double plus, the failure on my record of that magnitude would definitely disqualify me from gaining a position in teaching for the foreseeable future.

I may have also fallen asleep on my own notebook on a few occasions. Professor Ambient Lighting has a voice that could soothe a raging ursa minor.

It wasn't until the fourth day that anything interesting happened. I wish it hadn't.

"H-have a good day, Spathiphyllum."

"You too, Sun Downer," I said, trotting up the gleaming marble steps of the D.E.F.E.R. institute at Canterlot. All snow and ice had been dutifully cleared, allowing ponies to trot up unhindered. I suppose I could have flown up the hundred-or-so steps, but a little morning leg exercise never hurt anyone.

Especially if you're expecting to be sitting down for ten hours.

"H-have a good evening, Spathiphyllum."

"You too, Sun Downer," I said, trotting down the twilit marble steps.

I'm still not sure if Sun Downer had to sit and wait outside the institute every day until dusk to ensure I was attending my program, but then I've never read the minder's handbook in much detail. With my spotless record, I'd never had to interact with them at all. The one rule that all rehabilitators were told in regards to minders was this: if they even think you are shirking your duties, they will find you. Even my feverishly disorganized mind knew not to trifle with minder code.

From there, it was straight back to Grape Vine's house. Only, as I was walking, I couldn't help but feel like I was being watched. From above.

Unfortunately, there wasn't anything in sight. The skies were clear that evening, but that didn't help to qualm my suspicions one bit. Considering what happened recently, I wasn't about to take any chances.

Taking a sharp turn, I started to head for the crowded market districts. Ducking into the first shop I could find, I found it thankfully populated by both ponies and delicious treats alike. Sounds of merry conversation filled my ears, beating away the ominous silence that preceded it.

Rows upon rows of sacred, heavenly muffins were displayed on racks, and I scurried to a register to buy a bagful. Immediately I dug in the bag to pick one to eat right there in the store, but I couldn't decide. Cherry, walnut, cinnamon, chocolate, or...

"Hey there, Lily," said someone behind me in line.

"Pumpkin!" I dropped the muffin I was holding, only for the out-of-uniform sergeant to catch it with her hoof.

"Whoa, nelly! It's me, all right," dropping the... pumpkin-flavored pastry back into my paper bag. She was dressed in a neat checkered vest and a rich brown cowpony hat. It was a little strange seeing her out of the police uniform. It's not as though I had never seen her in civilian clothes, but it was still odd. Kind of like how it's weird to see someone without their glasses on, if they always wear them. It was a good, casual look, but I had the feeling this meeting was far from a casual occurrence.

"Wha- what are you doing here in Canterlot? Not that it isn't good to see you." I said.

"It weren't my idea. The warden had me come here to deliver some files and such to the D.E.F.E.R. HQ here, in light of some recent events." She jabbed at me, with playful scorn.

"Pardon my language, but that sounds like a load of junk to me," I said, not able to muster up any actual foul language. "They could just mail it, or send a regular old courier, not a sergeant."

"They sure could! But I think the warden had some other reasons too. Normally delivering some files doesn't warrant a week-long trip, but orders are orders." Pumpkin said.

"So, you're telling me that the warden sent you here for some covert reason, and then I happen to run into you here?"

Pumpkin, the good cop, bad cop, and honest soul she is, nodded eagerly. "Yep, that's right. I ain't one for much tact or being covert, but I also think this is what's best for you. Straightforward and in the flesh. Taking a page from your lil' book, if you can believe me."

"I'm glad to hear that," I tapped my hooves together, nervously. "It's good to see you, Pumpkin, even if you were sent here to basically stalk me. Maybe we can meet up for dinner sometime this weekend." I said.

"That sounds swell." She said, sweetly.

"Well, I'll be going now." I was halfway out the door when Pumpkin put a hoof on my shoulder, stopping me in my tracks.

"I'll walk you home!"

The blood rushed from my face. How troublesome. A well-dressed unicorn couple stood impatiently next to me as I realized I was blocking the traffic in and out of the store.

"I wasn't heading home yet, actually." I said, stepping to the side to allow the pair to enter. They lifted their noses at me in a snobbish manner, but that kind of thing doesn't bother me as much as Pumpkin says it should.

"Oh? Got some more plans?" Pumpkin said, clearly annoyed but still maintaining the casual demeanor she was forcing.

"Yeah. Dinner with a friend."

"Well, I got nothing else to do this evening. Mind if I come along? You could introduce me," Pumpkin said, leering into me with those aqua-blue eyes.

Yes, I would mind. I would mind very much.

"Not at all," I said, gritting my teeth into a grin. She mirrored it with her own, perfect set of teeth.

After a quick stop at the cider store, I led Pumpkin Smash to Grape Vine's neighborhood. Neither of us had a drop to drink yet, but we must have looked quite inebriated, the way we were stumbling over the overgrown chaos that is Grape Vine's front lawn. It didn't help my focus that Pumpkin kept staring at me, unabashedly.

I nearly reached into my pocket for my set of keys, when Pumpkin Smash spoke up.

"Land sakes! Looks like somepony is in dire need of a landscaper." She poked at a vine with her hoof, and I swear it quivered as if alive. Well, as alive as most plants are already, but "alive and kicking" would be a better way to describe the state of that particular vegetation. Don't be surprised if it kicks back.

"My friend has a peculiar sense of home decor." I said, knocking on the door several times. When it opened, I spoke up quickly before anyone else had a chance to speak.

"Vinny! So good to see you again! I brought some cider, muffins, and my friend, Pumpkin Smash. Thanks for inviting me over this evening," I said, passing her several bags of bottles and muffins.

"Howdy," said Pumpkin, tipping her cowpony hat.

"Oh, um, howdy-doo," replied Grape Vine, her eyes flicking towards me expectantly. I just prayed she would play along.

"Sorry for showing up all sudden-like, but I just wanted to spend some time with my pal Lily here before she gets too busy with her rehabilitator work," said Pumpkin. "But only if y'all don't mind having me."

"Not at all! I mean, the more the merrier, right?" Grape Vine said. In most circumstances, I think she would have meant it, but that time, there was a strain in her voice that said otherwise. "You just make yourself at home in the dining room, and Lily and I will bring out the refreshments lickety-split," she said as she motioned at me with her eyes.

"Alrighty then! Thanks for your hospitality," Pumpkin said, waltzing off. Sweet Celestia, Pumpkin acting this way was sending my weirdness meter into the stratosphere. She has a strange way of showing that she cares, in that she doesn't even try to hide it. There's a sweetness to it, but a cup of sugar is easier to swallow when it's baked in a cake.

Grape Vine all but dragged me into the kitchen, murmuring into my ear as she took some porcelain plates out of a cupboard.

"What's all this about then? You just brought a police sergeant to my house, for Luna's sake! They're not exactly friendly with me."

"I know, I know. Look, just play along. You're not in trouble or anything, she's just a friend." I said. "And how in the hay do you know she's with the police, let alone a sergeant?"

"You kidding me, right?" Grape Vine hissed. She seemed genuinely offended.

"Y'all okay in there?" We both cringed as Pumpkin's voice carried over from the adjacent dining hall to the tiny kitchen space.

"Yup, all good here!" I said, setting some muffins on a tray.

"Her cutie mark, of course. That hammer smashing the pumpkin? Gavel." Grape Vine said.

"Oh."

"That, and I also recall you mentioning her by name a couple years back. That case with the Cheesy Doodle fellow."

"Curdle." I gathered up two armfuls of cider bottles, balancing one on my outstretched wing. "I'm impressed that you remember that, though. I don't even remember having that conversation with you."

"Please. Knowing ponies is my specialty, you know. That's why you're weirding me out right now." She said.

"I'm sure she's got plenty of juicy stories about things in Baltimare that you can squeeze out of her. Tomorrow, I'll let you squeeze some stories out of me. Promise." I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.

She seemed to ponder for a moment before shrugging.

"I do enjoy a good squeezing."

It didn't take much effort at all to get Pumpkin talking. She's really got a thing for cider, and a thing against the Baltimare PD's upper management.

"...and it turned out, the pitchfork was- 'hic' -hidden at the bottom of the cistern the whole time! If it weren't for the great molasses shortage in Dodge Junction, we- 'hic' -never would've found enough evidence to put away that scumbag Pokey Pine, I reckon." Pumpkin drawled, swaying an empty bottle in the air, her sixth one. "I swear those blockheads in the office don't got none of their priorities straight."

"I guess miracles really do happen," Grape Vine said, herself having had four bottles, but I suspected she was magicking away some of the physical and mental affects. Sneaky unicorns.

"Miracle shmiracle, the molasses shortage was a downright disaster. Just like- 'hic' -a certain flowery incident recently."

"Great stories, Pumpkin!" I leapt out of my chair and swept her up on her hooves. "I especially liked the one with the hidden camera and the birdseed dispenser, and I'd love to hear more, but it's getting awful late. We should get going now." I said. The past two hours I spent nursing as many bottles, which was more than enough for me. Wouldn't want to make any mistakes now.

"All right, all right. Lemme jus' find- 'hic' -my hat. Where is that darned thing?"

"On your head."

Pumpkin made a sour expression. "I knew that."

"Come on Pumpkin, how about you tell me where you're staying and I'll walk you-" I started, when a knock at the door made my mane stand on end. Those were knocks with purpose.

"They're really coming at this hour?" Grape Vine said, gliding over to the door. I followed after, with a heavy farmpony-turned-cop slung over my back. I made a mental note not to get on Pumpkin's bad side, especially if she was looking for something to sit on. It would be like dropping a boulder on an origami swan.

The knocks were violent and rapid, sending more worry up and down my overburdened spine. I almost told Grape Vine not to open it, but couldn't formulate an excuse before she yanked it open.

"I'm not interested in buying any of your flimflam-"

A firm, authoritative voice interrupted hers, like a bus hitting a stalk of corn.

"Out of the way! I am here to speak to rehabilitator Spathiphyllum and police sergeant Pumpkin Smash!"

5. Extracurricular Activities

"Here! We're right here," I said, rushing to greet our better.

"Front and center, fillies! Luna compels you." I didn't recognize that assertive voice demanding so much attention. It had the rough bark of a drill sergeant, with the cold bite of a scorned lover. I found myself eager to stand up straight, little pops coming from my creaky joints. As drunk as she was, I sensed Pumpkin tensing up too, instinctively preparing for a verbal, or not-so-verbal beat down.

Grape Vine was all but tossed to the side, letting Sun Downer inside. Standing on my tippy-hooves, I tried to look past her to see who she was with. Her boss, maybe? A minder of minders? I don't think there is such a thing. A major-minder, perhaps?

I was pulling off a spectacular impression of a confused bystander when I felt a hoof yank at my collar, bringing me eye-to-eye with Sun Downer. Redness in her eyes told me she had been crying recently, but there was zero grief to be found in the rest of her intense countenance. Pumpkin slid off my back, shamelessly rolling onto the floor like a sack of drunk rocks.

Sun Downer reached over with a wing and pulled a grimacing Pumpkin up by her ear. "Rehabilitator. Sergeant. You two have some explaining to do," said Sun Downer.

Oh, ponyfeathers.

Somehow, Grape Vine was able to convince us all that our conversation would be best had at the dinner table, instead of the cramped halls. There were exactly four seats at the table, along with fresh muffins, conveniently enough.

There was a moment of tense silence as I tried to organize some thoughts, but it was like trying to catch falling leaves, and slipping on the ones I let fall. Catching leaves is hard with hooves, you know?

It was Pumpkin who croaked out a response first. "Lily and I were jus' having a good old time here with her pal Viney-Winey here, you should join in!" Grape Vine bristled at the nickname, but kept her lips pursed.

"I think not!" Sun Downer exclaimed, making me flinch, but Pumpkin seemed unfazed. "You two are acting quite irresponsible considering the positions you're in."

"Suit yourself. I think it'd be good for you to unwind from time to time." Pumpkin said, having difficulty deciding which kind of muffin she wanted next. "You seem real wound up." She settled on a butterscotch, shoving the whole thing in her mouth at once. Impressive.

"Miss Downer, can I ask what this is about? Have these two violated some kind of rule?" Grape Vine asked, though I think she really wanted to ask Pumpkin and I.

Straightening up, Sun Downer replied, in that powerful voice she kept hidden so well. Her demeanor had changed so much compared to when I last saw her, I thought for a moment that we were talking to Sun Downer's twin sister or personality-adjusted clone. But even twins don't share the same cutie mark, and clones are just not real in the least. Probably.

"It is my job to ensure Spathiphyllum and Pumpkin here are fit and ready to report for their duties at all times. That means monitoring their actions during their personal hours if I deem it necessary." She said. "Starting today, I deem it entirely necessary. The paperwork for nocturnal monitoring clearance has already been submitted, and you will be expected to submit to me accordingly." I don't think she meant submitting papers.

She didn't miss a beat. "You," pointing at my forehead with an accusatory wingtip, "I've received several reports from Professor Appropriate Action that you have been falling asleep during a litany of lectures on relationships with rambunctious ragamuffins. Is this true?"

"Well, yes, but-"

"And have you been visiting this arcano-felon's home every night for the past few days?" Sun Downer interrupted.

"Now, wait just a minute there Sunny! None-a what Lily and I do with this felon in our free time is any of your business anyhow." Pumpkin interceded.

"Hey, you don't have to call me that, you know," Grape Vine interjected.

I felt like I was in dire need of an intervention, I said, internally.

"No, we haven't been visiting here every night," I said, externally. Though I might have said "yes" on accident. It's unbelievably hard to formulate a convincing lie when in the presence of the ponies I was in the room with. I was caught with a hoof in the cookie jar and the crumbs led a trail right to my crumby face.

"Is this true, Miss Vine?" Sun Downer's attention snapped to Grape Vine, who seemed to be keeping a level-head throughout all of this. She didn't even have to look at my pleading gaze to know there was a game at play. I wonder how things might have gone if she chose the other side.

But why would she?

"I haven't seen Lily in such a long time, I thought that it would be wonderful to do some catching up. The sergeant here just invited herself along, but we were glad to have her too." Grape Vine said. It was such a convincing lie, even I was fooled for a moment. After all, it was mostly truth, as are the best lies.

"Come on, relax. Don't be such a stick in the cud, Sunny," Pumpkin said, munching away.

"It's mud," corrected Grape Vine.

"What? Her name ain't mud, silly!"

"That's not what I meant-"

"Enough." Sun Downer's wings flared to the sides as she pushed herself out of her chair, releasing a gust of wind reminiscent of distant thunder. The smell of her wing shampoo hit me in a wave. It was like chalk dust and melancholy rain. "I've heard enough." Her tone simmered with disdain, but her face remained stoic. Peaceful, even. Like she had it all figured out.

"Spathiphyllum, I will be escorting the sergeant here back to her lodging. I trust that you will find your way home and get plenty of rest?" Sun Downer scooped up the orange policemare, with nary a tremble in her slender legs.

"No. I mean yes!" I got up from my seat and headed straight for my bags. All this "yes, no" business was getting confusing.

She raised an eyebrow, but chose to move on, generously-sized wings snapping back to her sides. It's not fair! She's shorter and smaller than me in every other way.

"One last thing Lily." Sun Downer said. "Your missing luggage was delivered to your home address earlier today, but seeing how you were attending your very important lectures, the luggage was instead delivered to your mail locker in HQ. I expect you to gather that post-haste."

"Great," Grape Vine said, "can you all leave my house now?"

One shuffle and scurry later, all of us were outside on the overgrown lawn, two out of three of us waving goodbye to Grape Vine. From the look in her eyes, I knew I had a lot of explaining to do. Sun Downer shot me a similar glare, before scooping up Pumpkin and soaring off into the starry skies, the earth pony barely hanging on for her dear life as they faded into the night. Even at a distance, I could make out one more last exchange.

"Dear Luna, you are a heavy pony. What did you eat for dinner? Mud?" Sun Downer asked.

"I ain't good with heights! Lemme go!" Pumpkin's legs flailed wildly.

"Stop resisting! I will not be held responsible for a hole in somepony's roof!"

"Have some consideration fer the one making the hole!"

Before I knew it, I was back in my old neighborhood. So many little fires that might need putting out. Might as well monitor a loose end while in the area.

"Sweetie Belle! Sweetie! Are you there?" The whole neighborhood must have heard me fussing, but that didn't matter much. "We need to talk!"

The door opened a sliver, and I eagerly stuck my head inside it. "Hi! How are you this evening? Can I come in? Good, good, good." I tried to enter further, but Sweetie Belle kept the door stuck in place with a faint green glow.

Sweetie Belle was not pleased. "Lily, it's past midnight. What in the hay are you doing here?"

"Can't we all just be?" I kicked off my boots and tossed them inside. Sweetie Belle sighed and opened the door, but otherwise stayed anchored in place, clearing her throat expectantly.

"I know you aren't here to discuss the quandaries of life over tea, Lily. Tell me what's wrong."

"Wrong? Who am I to determine what is wrong? I wonder if anything is really right in this crazy world."

"Lily. Come on."

Realization was a metaphorical slap in the face. I blushed and dipped my head, staring at her hooves. "Sorry. Didn't mean to get existential. You want to go back to sleep, I get it." My eyes caught on her cutesy pajamas with pink polka dots and found myself momentarily distracted. In spite of everything, a giggle escaped from my throat.

"Where did you find those? You look like a little filly." I said.

Then it was her turn to be bashful, as roses bloomed behind her cheeks. "Um. I might have gone digging through the clothes in the bottom of your closet after you stopped by. I couldn't find my own, but these seemed to fit me. I'll wash them well, I promise!" They looked so soft, as if her fashionista sister had somehow tailored them perfectly for her.

I waved my hoof dismissively, doubling as a way to clear my own scatterbrained daze. "It's fine, it's fine. Keep them. They don't fit me anyway, I'm sure you'll get more use out of them." I found a couch to lean on. "So, did anypony stop by here earlier today?"

"I wasn't home until way after dinner. Preparing for my shows takes all day, so I'm hardly ever here unless it's a day off." Sweetie Belle levitated a glass of water and took a dainty sip that turned into a mighty gulp. "If you couldn't tell, I'm beat. Tonight's performance was amazing though! I wish you could have been there."

"Sorry, I wish I could make it too. The training program just takes all day and by the time it's over I just want to see a pillow and mattress." Good. My alibi was safe. Then again, I should've known that already. Sweetie Belle didn't need to get mixed up in this. Stop wasting her time.

"Okay. I'm here because I was expecting an important package today. Important enough that they wouldn't leave it at the doorstep if nopony was home. There wasn't enough time for me to inform the department of my address change, so I'll end up picking it up from HQ in the morning. I ran into a rather upset official just a couple hours ago, but I think things have cleared up." I checked a few things off the mental list. There was still one troublesome thing left to deal with.

"For future reference, if any ponies come by asking for me, can you pretend like I still live here? It would just make things easier for the delivery ponies," I asked, casually as possible.

"That... that doesn't seem right," she said. Ouch, right in the guilty conscience.

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I won't ask you to do it." I said.

"No, that's not the problem," Sweetie Belle said, rubbing her poofy mane. Doubly poofy, having just gotten out of bed, I assume. "Why are you actually here?"

"What do you mean?" I pushed myself off of the couch, careful not to disturb any of the scattered boxes of random stuff lying around.

"Like, you must have already known the package didn't get dropped off if that supervisor pony was mad at you. In fact, I don't even think you forgot to change your address at all. You're telling me to lie about where you're staying, and you're here for training even though you're like, the best rehabilitator ever."

"Um. Uh-" I didn't realize it, but I was fidgeting with something with my hooves until Sweetie Belle levitated it away from me, continuing to rattle off her observations.

"You forgot some super-important documents on the train, you're running around at night in the middle of winter with a fever, you're coming back here to ask me about some package that you knew wouldn't have been dropped off in the first place."

My legs felt locked to the floor as Sweetie Belle approached, genuine concern shining in those shimmering green eyes. It was so blinding, I had to look away.

"What's wrong, Lily? Why are you acting like a dodo?"

I thought my eyes were going to fall out of my head. I wanted to deflate like a balloon, and sputter off into an incoherent little thing. What's another lie in the tangled bird's nest I had already woven?

Sincere.

I let out the breath I had been holding. "I have to see her."

"Who?"

"Leap Year."

Silence. Lovely silence. Awful silence.

"Okay," she said.

"Just okay?"

"Yup. Thank you for letting me know." She said, putting on a pink nightcap, matching the pajamas.

"Please, you can't tell-"

"Oh please, Lily, don't give me that," she levitated me up from my begging position and plopping me onto the couch.

"This obviously means a lot to you, if you'd risk your career for it. It's no wonder you've been acting so weird. Well, weirder than normal." A calendar floated up from the assortment of boxes, and she flipped through the pages. "Leap Day is coming up in just a few days, huh? I've been losing track of the days of the week lately."

I hugged one of the cushions. "I'm not allowed to see her. Isn't that ridiculous?" I tried not to sound like a petulant foal, but I think it came off that way.

"It is and it isn't. You don't need me to tell you that Leap Year is dangerous. They close off the entire archive every Leap Day because of that mischievous mare, even if she isn't supposed to show up. You really think she's showing up this time?"

"She's going to, and I know it. I've been dreaming about her." I paused. "Okay, better phrasing. She has appeared in my dreams, and hallucinations too."

"Wow."

More silence. Maddening silence.

"Uh, Sweetie Belle, if it's that hard of a decision, then you don't have to-"

"Huh, what? Oh sorry, I was just falling asleep, kinda," she said. I was about to say something that straddles the line between kind and frustrated when she put her hoof to my mouth.

"Relax. I got this. If I'm here, and somepony asks where you are, I'll just say I don't know."

"Promise?"

"Promise. But you need to promise me something too."

"Okay. What is it?"

"Don't get anypony hurt. For your sake and theirs."

Something inside me cursed Sweetie Belle for making me make a promise like that. Life is too ironic to let me get away with a promise like that.

"I promise." I said.

"Great!" Sweetie Belle levitated the calendar back to its proper place among the disaster zone that was the living room floor. Just a few more days. Before that though, I had to see Rafflesia again.

Knocking ponies out with stink-breath doesn't count as hurting them, does it?

6. Smoke, Mirrors, and Beyond

Magic is about as common as any other basic law of physics in our daily lives. Just as there is gravity at work, so too are the arcane forces flowing all around us, manipulating and being manipulated in turn.

It would be easy to make the mistake of thinking that only a third of the pony population has reign over magic. In reality, everyone has a capacity for it in their own right. Unicorns might have their spells down a somewhat-tangible science, but magic has proven time and time again to be far more than mere spells. Pegasi have their weather and flight magics, and earth ponies have their peculiar earthiness.

It's more than mere science. It's certainly more than friendship.

Magic is anything and everything.

Included within anything and everything: confusing, annoying, and dangerous.

When I finally got back to Grape Vine's jungle-abode that night, my knees were trembling as much as my teeth. A dis-band would be welcomed in open forelegs. Though it would be an egregious improper use of punitive arcano-technology, running that much is not something my body was ready for. Not now, not ever. Canterlot is a big city, alright? Great, big, alicorn, princess-sized.

Maneuvering the spare key with a wing, I entered, quiet as a ghost, powered by the hope that my host had gone to bed. Out of courtesy, I tried to move as gingerly as possible, but the sound of music echoing from somewhere made me slip and fall against the wall with a thud. Part of me wanted to sneak to my room and ignore the situation, but after that debacle earlier, it wasn't hard to imagine that my curious friend would make the small effort to physically drag me out of bed to get an explanation. Might as well play into her "I know something's up and we're going to talk about it" scenario.

Following the source of the music, I went upstairs to the top floor and arrived at the sunroom, custom designed by the owner herself. The lights were out, leaving the room dimly lit by the crackling glow of the fireplace. Tall windows, inky with night, loomed from on high. The silhouettes of vines snaked around their edges, making me feel surprisingly uncomfortable.

Grape Vine herself was on the far side of the room, reclining in a velvet-lined armchair, reading a book by firelight. Here, closer up, I could clearly identify the crazy noise spouting from the antique phonograph beside her. She obviously had to have seen me, but chose not to speak first. A classic power-play. I could respect that.

"Brubuck, huh? Didn't know you were into this sort of stuff," I said. The casual atmosphere I tried to craft was immediately shattered by me wincing at a sudden outburst of fiery trumpets.

She didn't seem to stop reading as she responded. "I've been told that the best jazz is most enjoyable for the performers, not the audience. Especially for a piece as avant-garde as this."

I kept my mouth shut as the song transformed into a boisterous drum solo that must have involved about thirty separate things getting whacked and clattered at the same time. Avant-garde indeed. Too much cowbell for my liking.

"That being said, I do still find this piece entertaining. It's good to just experience, you know? Experience without understanding. There's something to that, I think." Grape Vine said. She turned another page, her focus uninterrupted by our conversation.

I bit back the rising temptation to ask what in the hay she was talking about that for, and what she was reading so late at night, but I fancy myself a good sport. Some ponies like to live their lives dramatically, and I'm not one to judge. Life is chock-full of comedy and tragedy as is.

"Yeah," I said, "there's plenty of things I don't understand that I still enjoy. Most things are like that, really." The music quieted down, and as it reached the end of the record, I thought I recognized the book, but the angle of flickering light was making it impossible to see the front cover with any clarity.

"Don't give me those empty words." The book slammed shut. "Please. Can you be sincere with me, Lily?" She asked.

"Huh?" I said, followed by a mild coughing fit. Her words slid like a block of ice down the back of my neck. I took a few steps until I was closer to the center of the room. "If this is about earlier I was going to explain-"

"It is about earlier. But I don't want you to explain anything to me. I just want to understand something." The book floated over to me, far quicker than necessary.

I glanced at the cover. Steps to Forgiveness. The last place I left it was under my pillow.

"Step one: determine the cause of distress." Grape Vine recited. "Do you still remember walking through those 'steps' with me?"

"Of course I do. Along with every last detail of every client I've rehabilitated." I said, swelling with pride.

"I hate that word you use," Grape Vine scowled, tossing another log into the fire, releasing an angry spray of sparks. "Rehabilitate." The word dripped with acid as she spoke. "As if there's something wrong with us. Like we're sick. Addicts."

Deflating, I stepped over to her side. She shrank at my approach, but let me put a comforting wing over her shoulder anyway.

"I'm sick and tired of being treated like this for wanting to do the right thing," she spat. She was angry, but there was also a great deal of pain behind those words. Her hooves pushed deep indents into the cushions, and her teeth were grit together. I hadn't noticed her agitation earlier, but remembering what Sun Downer and Pumpkin said before came rushing back. Felon.

"I can't go a day without looking in the mirror and being reminded of this... shackle they locked me up in." She pointed to the restrictor ring encircled around the base of her horn. The normally silver-colored ring glowed a burning orange in the reflected firelight. The heat even crept into the center of her eyes, as she sat up. "Me, of all ponies! A star detective, for crying out loud! It's like they only care about what I did, without a thought about why I would."

She looked away. "And I didn't even get a chance to use it." That last part had a hint of disappointment in it, but I let that slide.

"Look, Vinny, I understand where you're coming from. So much of my own job is trying to get the truth out of ponies, and Celestia knows it would be that much easier if everypony would just be honest about themselves. But it wouldn't be fair."

"Fair to who?"

"Fair to them. The truth of the matter is, the truth can be frightening. Reality can be imperfect, unpleasant, and shameful. So it goes that ponies would be afraid of you." I took my wing off of her, opting to lay down next to the comforting fire. "Ponies can do awful, ridiculous things when they're scared. It's not uncommon to see them try to run from their fears. But if you try to run from yourself, you'll run yourself into the ground," I said with a sigh. The fire was pretty calming. Mesmerizing, even.

"Well, it's certainly unfair to me," she said, in a mock-offended tone.

"Your spell certainly did break a couple laws of equinity," I shot back. "A lot of ponies find torture distasteful."

"Do you?" She asked.

"I... think there are better ways."

"That's not a 'no,' but whatever. I remember you saying something like all this a while ago. It's about as comforting as it was before." Sarcasm.

"That's how you know it's real."

"So what's the moral here? Life sucks? Don't step up and do anything about it, and fall in line with the way everyone else does things?"

"Uh, not exactly? There's no moral or anything like that. It's not my place to try and teach you anything. I just try to help you find your place if it seems like you're losing your way." I said.

"That's just it though! What if I'm not the one who is the problem, but society?" Grape Vine pointed up through the window, right at the pale crescent moon above. "Over a thousand years ago, Princess Luna was angry that ponies were ignoring her beautiful moonlit wonderland, so she lashed out in anger. Yeah, I get it, that was totally not okay on her part, but do you really blame her for feeling dejected? For wanting to make a change when nopony else would?"

"It's a little grand to compare yourself to the princesses, but sure, I'm listening."

"Just imagine! 'Oh, dear sister, why won't you keep doing your thankless job? What, you want to stop? How about I banish you to the moon for a thousand years?'" Grape Vine said. I must admit, her impression of Celestia was comically accurate. Voice-wise, at least. She did leave out some details, like the magical corruption and possible mind-state alterations, but her point was clear enough.

"Point is, maybe some ponies should have- I don't know- stayed up later? Would that really be so hard? I pulled tons of all-nighters when I was still employable." She let out a choked laugh. "Even Luna, bent on dominating the entire world, gets off easier than little me. Equestria loves her, because she's special and important and beautiful. Because she's powerful." At first she seemed resentful, but by the end of it, the tone of Grape Vine's rant was starting to sound like she was just rattling off facts.

"So what are you getting at with this?" I asked, though I already had an answer in mind.

"It's not society that needs to forgive me. It's not you that needs to forgive me," she said, "it's me that needs to forgive society. And I'm having a hard time being the bigger pony, because I'm not. I'm just me. A cruel and reckless fool who can't stand to have things not go her way." She sank into her chair, and for the first time in a while, I saw the weight that dragged at her features. It was a look I'd seen many times in the mirror. A face worn out from false smiles.

"I'm sorry. That sounds like... a really big, identity-crisis-level issue. It might take me a few days to help you get through it." I said, one of those false smiles creeping up on me. Old habit.

"Are you making fun of me? Just a few days?"

"No, to the 'making fun of.' Yes, to the 'few days.' I'm dreadfully busy this week, but in the meantime, you should get back to reading this." I tossed her the Steps, which she deftly caught in her magic.

"It should keep you right in that place between hope and skepticism. You know, uh, uncertainty. Now, if you don't mind, I have to be awake in... three hours. I'm not even going to ask why you went through my belongings to find that journal, because it doesn't matter. Unless you say it does." I said.

"Oh. Okay. Good night, then." She said, though she still seemed down. Good.

"Vinny. One more thing," I said. "Don't ask how, but I'll have that restrictor ring off your horn before the weekend, so don't feel too down."

Cloudy mornings are normally enjoyable. Just not when you expect to be running around outside during the cold seasons.

Gray, fat clouds bulged in a solid layer stretching across the sky, heavy with rain and sleet and ugh. Thankfully, there was a wealth of complimentary umbrellas at HQ that I was happy to take advantage of once the long day was over. I'd mention what happened in the classes, but I can't say I paid any attention to anything. It was remarkable how many ponies were in training to be rehabilitators, though. Attendance was through the roof- literally! Temporary cloud classrooms on top of the complex had to be constructed just to accommodate the influx of new recruits. And let's just say that cloud desks make for good sleeping surfaces.

It was also the day I was supposed to be meeting Rafflesia again. I would have to sprint to our rendezvous point if I wanted to be on time before the sun set. I could only hope Rafflesia would be as prompt. Knowing Sun Downer's schedule, even a single minute in the wrong place would incur an unpleasant amount of wrath and paperwork. I also wouldn't want Dean Glimmer to get involved.

As the day's final classes let out, I dared to sneak a peek at the sky through a window. It didn't take long to lock onto my target, what with pegasus eyesight and all. Sure enough, Sun Downer was up there, her carmine mane vivid against the grayscale backdrop. She seemed to be scanning the crowd of ponies leaving the building intently, from behind her own safety cloud. The sun hadn't yet set over the horizon, but evening was starting to show in the tint of the skies. It would only be a matter of time before she would shift personalities into a much more hooves-on approach. Then there would be no escape.

I dashed into the hallway, right into somepony going the opposite direction, knocking us both over and the umbrella out of my grip.

"Gosh, I'm sorry, miss," the moss-green earth pony said. From his accent, it sounded like he came all the way from Whinnyapolis.

"No, I'm sorry." I said.

"No, no, I'm sorry." He said.

"No, no, no, I'm-" I took a deep breath. "Let's get on with it." My eyes fell upon the umbrellas we dropped. Identical copies. "Which is which?"

"Oh yah, they're all the same cheap kind the company mass orders, don't ya know? Plain black with the logo on it." He said dismissively, taking one and giving me the other.

"Hey, wait one whinny-ing second!" He exclaimed, not budging an inch from his incredibly cheery and friendly demeanor. "I was looking for you! You're that Spa-fee-tha-ly pony, yah? Sorry, but how'd you say that name of yours again?"

"Just call me Lily, it's fine."

"Lily." He smiled. "I'm in administration, don't ya know? And we got some reports from your minder that you're up to no good. No good at all."

"Oh yeah?"

"Oh yah, you betcha. She's been saying terrible things like 'this pony is spending time with her friends' and 'staying out with them late at night.' Are these crimes true?" He seemed on the verge on laughter.

"Guilty as charged, sir." I frowned. "Sorry, but I don't actually recognize you."

"Oh, that's right. You've never seen me because I'm the newest member of the surveillance board. Just got started a couple days ago, and I gotta say, this place sure is different from Whinnyapolis. Much warmer weather, much colder ponies!" He extended his hoof. "Call me Safe Keeper, and don't worry one bit. You won't have any minders breathing up and down your neck all the time. I've reduced the jurisdiction that Sun Downer has over your personal activities." That came as a surprise. Security measures being lightened? He really was new.

"Well, Mr. Keeper, it was nice meeting you, but I've got one of those 'friends' of mine to spend time with. Maybe even late into the night."

"Yah, you have yourself a good evening, then. And don't have too much fun. Sorry!" He said, joining the rest of the crowd to leave. Looking around, it seemed everyone had the same idea of leaving as fast as possible.

And they all had the same black umbrella.

I scouted the hallways for the biggest crowd possible. Thankfully, psychology one-oh-one just let out, unleashing about a hundred and fifty eager recruits into the city. I dove in, mixing in with the masses. It's easy when you belong to a herd species. The moment we reached the front exit, a phalanx-formation of umbrellas opened up, with me doing my part in the center. There was no chance Sun Downer could pick me out, not until the crowd thinned out at least. Still, I didn't dare to chance a peek. Even if she was told to back off, something tells me she would be able to make a case for herself if she saw me with a runaway prison escapee.

By the time I reached the street with the address of the rendezvous point, I was still in a group of about a dozen. Better yet, Sun Downer was nowhere to be seen, above or on the ground. In a fluid motion, I peeled off into a shaded alley. Yeah, not exactly inconspicuous, but still, I wanted something private. Maybe I've seen too many movies. Whatever.

I just hoped the place I had in mind was still in business.

"Looks like the fortune-telling economy is still going strong," I said to myself, parting the stringed beads that served as a door. Right away, an animatronic stallion wearing a turban perked up and stared at me from its glass casing. Its eyes were enchanted gems, made to resemble the real thing. But this model was showing its age, as made evident by the crackling voice box and stiff movements. The rust was just icing on the metal cake.

"Welcome, traveller. You have come a long way to reach the realm of Mystic Seance, greatest and most powerful oracle! What is it that you seek? Knowledge? Fame? Power?" It said, in a saddle-arabian accent. The thing even had a well-groomed imitation mustache. A small red light blinked on at the corner of the booth's pedestal as a bored, feminine voice spoke.

"Low power detected. Recharge required soon."

"I'm just seeking for a friend. You see her? About a head taller than me, colored like a ripe peach." I said.

"Processing." The machine blinked its milky eyes while I took the time to take in the surroundings. Wallpaper resembling the constellations in the night sky lined the walls, which themselves supported numerous peeling posters about various psuedo-magical techniques that pseudo-guaranteed results that no other magic could provide.

The fortune teller whirred to life again. "Ah yes, it is relationship advice you seek! Yes, very good, take a seat and stare into the crystal ball."

"No thanks, I'm good."

"Come, come, I insist! First fortune is free of cost. Price of not knowing what comes next, now that may cost a fortune!" Its servos whirred and shrieked as the robot shrugged.

"I am a few minutes early, I suppose." What can I say? The machine was pretty convincing. Plus there wasn't anything else to do while waiting. "Fine, you got me."

"Yes, good! I knew you had some sense in you. Now come, focus your gaze. What do you see within the crystal?" A violet light grew from within it.

"Actually, that looks more like treated glass than crystal," I said, in a purposefully mocking tone. Despite my doubt, I leaned in. Perhaps to get a better look at the lightbulb inside, or the other workings of the machinery. As goofy as it might be, mechanical things are still pretty fantastic to me whenever I see them. That sort of stuff just didn't exist when I was... younger.

"Yes, closer, closer. Peer deeply into it. Let the divination reveal to you, the truth." It said.

Sure enough, I saw it. A little circuit board with some colorful wires at the base. I made a note to learn how to build these sorts of contraptions.

"Wow. It's fake." I deadpanned.

"Kind of like you?"

Yeah, like me. What? That was not the machine talking. That was...

"Oh hey, Lily! Like my new look? Ghost in the shell! Deus ex machina! I just wanna be a real pony!"

I gaped at the animatronic. It didn't look any different, but that voice was unmistakable. Pompous, confident, annoyingly charming. It wasn't even coming from the voice box.

Leap Year. Again. My hooves flew to my face.

"Okay, I may have only gotten two hours of sleep last night, but I caught up on rest during the 'advanced apology analysis' seminar today. The past few nights have been free of you, so what in the hay is going on?" I said, wiping spit from my lip. This was so not the time for this.

"You were just getting your fortune told, duh. I think this nasty hunk-o-junk was about to feed you a line about a promising future with a handsome prince, but allow me- a real magician- to show you the real deal." The place where her horn would be shone with cerulean energy, firing off a beam into the glass orb, which gleamed like a star. Its corona shined around the room, shooting thin lines of light into the wallpaper, and bouncing between the points of the constellations.

"Quite a light show, for a hallucination." I muttered.

"It seems the stars have something divine to show you, Lily. Besides my presence, of course."

"What is it? Be quick about it, I have an important meeting soon."

"That you do."

One by one, every star in the sky winked out. The orb, once blindingly bright, was now only faintly pulsating with energy.

"This is what you have to look forward to if you keep messing up things up like you always do," said Leap Year. "I'll snatch you up, and take you to the end of time itself, where even the dust has ceased to exist. We'll sit and watch the very last star crush itself into nothing, until it's just you. And. Me."

The last light went out, and everything was black. Again.

I stood there for who knows how long, waiting in the dark to wake up. Vivid and terrifying waking dreams have a lot less impact when you're on the edge of making a move. Part of me wished that Leap Year really was there, so I could get my hooves on her and-

"Hello? Is anyone in here?"

Rafflesia. She made it. And I was awake, standing in the darkness.

The ambient noise of rainfall slowly returned to my perception, but the lights were still out. A tall figure stood in the doorway, framed by the moonlight.

"Rafflesia, I'm here. We're alone."

"Oh, Lily!" She took one step in and the animatronic burst to life, along with half the lights overhead.

"Welcome, traveller. You have come a long way to reach reach reach reach-" The machine buzzed and froze in place.

"What in the hay is this place, Lily? It's creepy." Rafflesia's eyes went wide as she surveyed the place.

"It's-"

"-the realm of Mystic Seance, greatest and most powerful oracle! What is it that you seeeee-" The last word glitched and warped into a high-pitched squeal, ending in a dry pop.

"Um, what he said." I gave the machine a dirty look, as if to dare it to speak up again. " The actual owner of this place only stops in once per day, in the morning. Nopony else ought to come in here, and if they do, this guy here will let us know right away."

"Knowledge it is, then. Come, peer into my crystal ball and you shall see all the knowledge that you-"

"Why don't we move to the back where it's quieter?" I suggested.

Rafflesia nodded and followed my lead. Her mane and coat were thoroughly soaked with rain, despite her "nonchalant disguise." Guess the disguise didn't include an umbrella.

We found a nice table normally used to read fortunes in tea leaves and tarot cards, as made evident by the tea set and tarot deck. There was no way to check if the cups were clean, so we settled for a tea-free chat. Sitting across from her, I noticed that the chair she sat on groaned under her weight. Good reminder not to make the earth pony angry.

"So. How's your week been?" I asked.

"Small talk? You serious? Can we just skip ahead? I've haven't slept this little in my life. The bits you gave me for a place to stay didn't last very long. Do you know how hard it is to be homeless in a city as posh as Canterlot? Laying low is impossible! Royal guards patrol the streets all the time, so I have to stay in alleys with all the dumpsters and rats and ugh. I just thank Celestia that this one boutique left a box of old clothes out one day or I would have frozen my tail off without something to sleep in. Not to mention having to walk past the rows and rows of three-hoof restaurants with the best cuisine in all of Equestria! Today I had to eat a pizza crust out of the trash. The trash! It was really good, but still." She scrunched up her face, winded from the rant.

"Wow, that's crazy." I said. "You were probably better off eating the pizza crust than the weird stuff they serve at those restaurants though. Except for The Tasty Treat. That place has a phenomenal curry vegetable stew with rich chunks of potato and-" I stopped when Rafflesia's stomach let out an earth-shaking grumble.

She actually blushed. How bashful. Even in times of immense, life-threatening distress, ponies will still ascribe to a sense of social mores. You never stop being vulnerable to embarrassment.

"In any case, let's get down to business." I said.