Chapters Applejack lay on her back, snoring contentedly. The stars outside her bedroom window still shone bright, and the full moon rode high in the sky. Crickets chirped, and frogs sang in the warm summer night. All was well.
And yet, her bedroom door swung open, then shut again, on freshly-greased hinges. Stealthy hoofsteps crept across the floor. A moment of tense silence—then something sprang into the air and crashed down on top of her.
Applejack’s eyes flew open. “Wh’ the—!”
“G’MORNIN’, SIS!” bellowed a voice in her ear.
“Pinks—!” Applejack groaned. She reached up and grabbed her hat where it hung on the bedpost, then started swatting her little sister with it. “Geroff me!”
“Not in your dreams, sister a’ mine!” Pinks replied, with a little too much glee, as she wormed her hooves under the quilt to try to reach Applejack’s ticklish spots. “We got a big ol’ day ahead a’ us, and I’m not gonna let you sleep in one second longer than you—”
Applejack finally managed to get her back hooves under Pinks, and she shoved. Pinks flopped off of her and onto the floor, where she collapsed into a giggling heap. Applejack slapped her hat on crookedly, then sat up.
“Pink Pearl Apple,” she said sternly, “What in Equestria d’ya think Granny Smith would say if she knew that you were tryna wake me up at…” Applejack scooped up the alarm clock off her bedside table, then scowled at it. “...at two in the founderin’ morning?” she finished, with a fresh snarl.
Pinks sat up. “That I take after Great-Grandma Dutch Apple Pie?” she said cheerfully. “And that y’all should be thankin’ me for my enthusiasm and diligence?”
“Runnin’ ya out a’ town on a rail, more like,” Applejack growled, reaching for her lamp.
Applejack knew what she would see before she turned the lamp on: her younger sister, Pink Pearl “Pinks” Apple, seated on the floor, staring back at her with shining eyes and a great big smile. She had inherited Mama’s mane and tail, so curly it made your eyes hurt, but she must have gotten her coloring from somewhere further back in the family tree: she had a light pink coat, and a dark pink mane, different from the oranges and reds her siblings shared. On her flank were three balloons—apple-shaped, of course—in red and green. Pink Pearl apples, in fact—not that Applejack could ever forget that, after how much fuss Pinks had made when she’d figured it out.
Applejack scowled. She had to admit, she had a soft spot for her little sister—and, true, she was a hard worker—but she was also a pain. She couldn’t buck apples as fast as Big Mac or Applejack herself, so whenever the three of them worked in the orchard, they’d need to spend extra time helping Pinks finish up her rows at the end of the day. To top it off, she spent so much time telling jokes and playing pranks instead of applebucking that working with her always seemed to take twice as long. True, Pinks was a fine baker, and her wagon-wheel apple pies were the best this side of Canterlot, but baking wasn’t where Sweet Apple Acres made its money.
Especially since Pinks insisted on wasting all that flour. After every harvest, she would always pick out the bruised apples, or the ones with worm spots—all the ones that they couldn’t sell, juice, or eat—and spend hours each night cleaning them, cutting them up, and baking them into pies. Pies that cost money to make. But Applejack had never figured out exactly what she did with the pies—she sure wasn’t eating them, and she didn’t seem to be selling them, either. The only thing Applejack could ever figure was that she was giving them away —but that would make less sense than the rest of Pinks put together. Of course, she tried so hard, but as far as Applejack was concerned, the whole mess was just a waste of time and money.
Applejack’s scowl wavered when Pinks smiled again.
“D’ya need me ta’ wake ya up again, Jackie?” she asked. “I could, y’know…”
“I’m up, I’m up,” Applejack replied, rolling out of bed. She glanced at the clock again, then glared at Pinks. “And why , exactly, am I up at this time a’ mornin’?”
“Because!” Pinks said brightly.”Today’s the Sisterhooves Social! And we gotta get ready!”
“Pinks,” Applejack said patiently, “you’ve been preppin’ this thing for weeks. What else in Equestria is there to do?”
“Oh, lotsa stuff,” she said, turning and walking towards the door. “And I wanna make absolutely sure we’re ready on time. After all,” she said, grinning back over her shoulder, “it’s not every day Sweet Apple Acres gets to hold a party!”
Applejack just rolled her eyes.
“Plus,” Pinks added, “I was gonna make us all my signature applesauce pancakes for breakfast…!”
Applejack paused. Well . That was almost worth getting up before dawn for. She smiled to herself a little; though she liked to complain, at least to herself, Pinks did have her good points, even if she was a terrible farmpony.
Now, if she could just figure out how to keep Pinks from breaking into her room so darn much...
* * *
“Hey, sweetie,” Night Light said.
Moonlight Serenade shot her father a look with those pale green eyes of hers. She looked so much like her mother, it was almost a little scary sometimes. She had the same white coat, the same general gait--heck, her mane even curled the same way. The biggest difference between the two was their mane color; though Serenade’s mane had a purple stripe like her mother, the rest of her mane was pink, not white. She must have picked that up from his side of the family.
“Spike up already?” Night Light asked her.
Serenade said nothing, but instead, she turned and crept away with a stealthy grace that belied her ten years--almost like that time she was convinced she was going to get her cutie mark in being a ninja. Night Light watched her go, then mentally shrugged, turned, and walked back towards the kitchen.
“G’morning,” he said, pulling his chair away from the table.
Twilight Velvet, already seated at the table, grunted a reply, then took a sip of her coffee.
Night Light pulled the newspaper out of the pocket of his bathrobe, then shook it open. “Weather should be nice today,” he noted, taking a bite of his toast.
Velvet nodded. “Good,” she said. “With everything that’s going on, it would be nice to—”
Suddenly, from upstairs, came a high-pitched wail that grew louder and louder:
“MommMMMM -MEEEE!”
Velvet groaned again and put her face in her hooves. Night Light glanced up at the clock, then grunted.
“She’s up early,” he said simply.
Down the stairs, with all the subtlety of an air-raid siren, charged their oldest daughter, Radiance. She was still wearing her pink bathrobe, and her purple mane streamed behind her in a billowing wave. She, too, had a white coat like her mother, and, on her flank, three interlocking ice crystals.
Night Light sighed and set down his paper as Radiance charged into the kitchen. She skidded to a stop at the head of the kitchen table, then jogged anxiously in place, an expression of practiced anguish on her face. If she had managed to put her mascara on already, it would have been running.
“Mother!” she cried. “Father! T-Twiley, she—she woke up early, and! She took! My shower!”
Night Light gave her a look of everlasting patience.
“Radey,” he said gently, “she’s probably just excited for today.”
“And thinking ahead,” Velvet muttered to herself, “knowing how long you take.”
Night Light shot Velvet a warning look, but she just stared back with bleary, blood-shot eyes. Night Light sighed and turned back to Radiance.
“She shouldn’t take too long,” he said. “Just a quick rinse, that’s all. And then you can—”
“B-b-b-but I need it!” Radiance wailed. “There will be colts there today! And I need to look perfect! And—!”
“Radiance,” Night Light said, calm but firm, “the Sisterhooves Social is a family event. Always has been, ever since your mom and I were foals. I don’t think there will be many colts your age there—and if there are, I think they’d be too interested in the apple pies to notice if you didn’t get your mane done exactly the way you wanted it, don’t you think?”
Radiance started to pout, but Night Light turned back to his paper, doing his best to project that the conversation was over. “And besides,” he continued, “what if you want to participate in the obstacle race again this year? You wouldn’t want to put all that work in if you’re just going to mess it all up, wouldn’t you?”
At this, Radiance’s expression switched from helpless martyrdom to righteous indignation. “I will have you know , Father,” she said haughtily, “that the Sisterhooves Social Obstacle Race is an event for fillies, whereas I am a young mare. Hence,” she growled, “why Twilight and Serenade will be running, not me. And I shall not be ready to go until I’ve had adequate time to prep—”
Velvet set down her mug with a bang, making both Night Light and Radiance jump. Velvet smiled up at her daughter, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“Why don’t you just use the downstairs bathroom?” she asked, in a tone that made it crystal clear she wasn’t asking a question.
And yet, Radiance managed to be horrified. “B-b-but that’s Shiny’s bathroom!” she cried. “I don’t want to smell like a colt—!”
“Shining Armor hasn’t used it in six months ,” Velvet said. “Not since he got into the Guard.” She took a gulp of her coffee. “And yes, I know it doesn’t have all the bells and whistles the girls’ bathroom does, but I’m sure you can deal.“ She stretched her lips in a brittle smile. “Besides, I don’t think Shiny will be needing it to freshen up anytime soon, do you?”
Radiance looked between her father, who carefully avoided her gaze, and her mother, who had clearly used up all the pre-coffee patience she had. Radiance’s lower lip quivered the slightest bit, then she sniffed daintily.
“Very well,” she said, turning dramatically away. “But, if something happens today, and I end up embarrassing myself, then I shall—”
She turned a corner, and they never found out what exactly she should .
Night Light turned a page in his paper. “More coffee, dear?”
Velvet slumped down on the table, and held up her mug in a wavering hoof. “Yes, please,” she groaned.
Night Light folded his paper, stood, took the proffered mug, and walked towards the coffee machine. He set the mug down, filled it up, and picked it back up again—
“Seren- ADE!” shrieked Radiance, so loud Night Light dropped the mug back on the counter. “You get out of that bathroom this instant, young filly!Mother and Father said I could use it, and you have no right—!”
Twilight Velvet buried her head in her arms. “Oh, sweet Celestia,” she murmured.
Night Light picked up the coffee pot again and topped off Velvet’s mug—hesitated—then pulled a second mug from the cupboard for himself.
* * *
“And how’re my best ponies in the world this morning?” called Bow Hothoof grandly. All four occupants of the breakfast table—his wife, son, and twin daughters—looked up. “My best mare...” he continued, slipping behind Windy Whistles and kissing her on the cheek, “...my best colt…” he said to Surfer Beach, who ducked out of the way as his dad tried to muss his mane, “...and my two best fillies,” he said, pulling his two daughters in for a hug.
Rainbow Dash—the older of the two, by four minutes—laughed, then wiggled around in her chair and hugged him back. “Hey Pops,” she said.
“Did you let the bedbugs bite?” he asked.
Flyby, the younger one, grinned. “Only a little,” she said.
Bow squeezed them a little tighter, then stepped back with a grin. “Them’s my girls,” he said warmly.
He stepped back and looked fondly at his family, so proud he could nearly burst. The girls were beautiful; Rainbow took after him, with the same mane coloring and everything, while Flyby looked almost identical to Windy’s own mom, Grandma Merriweather, with her yellow coat and pink mane. And Surf had Bow’s own coat—or something close enough to it—a deep teal, that matched his messy blond mane perfectly.
Bow sat and took a bite of the scrambled eggs on his plate. “So,” he said to the girls, “you excited for today?”
Flyby gave a weak little smile. “Yeah,” she said quietly. Her mane was cut short, but she wore it in a peekaboo bang, which she brushed away from her eye. “Have been for a while,” she admitted.
“That’s great,” he said, patting her on the back. “‘Cause it looks like today’s gonna be awesome flying weather.”
“That’s what Howie said,” Flyby added.
Bow frowned. “Howie?” he asked. “Is that one of your birds?”
Bow grinned as he saw the look that his girls passed between each other. Flyby had always loved songbirds, ever since she was a little filly. That was her cutie mark, in fact—three pairs of pink bird-wings. She loved them so much, in fact, that she wanted nothing more than to be with them--and, as such, was the first of the twins to figure out how to fly reliably. Of course, competitive little Rainbow wouldn’t let that stand, so she’d worked hard, not just to figure out how to fly, but how to do it better than her sister. And she hadn’t stopped yet .
That was one of his favorite stories to tell about his girls. Even if they, themselves, were starting to get tired of it.
Windy cleared her throat. “So what’s this… this thing today all about?” she said, as she reached for the orange juice. “I know you said your friend Flitter told you about it, but what exactly is it?”
“I-it’s, uh…” Flyby began—but she stopped, then swallowed nervously. Both her parents were too preoccupied—Pops with his eggs, Mom with her juice—to notice when she glanced at Rainbow. Somehow, she knew, even before she looked, that Rainbow was already looking back at her. Rainbow smiled, then gave her an encouraging nod. Flyby returned the smile, then took a deep breath as Rainbow, her work complete, turned back to her plate.
“It’s called the Sisterhooves Social,” Flyby said, sitting up a little straighter. “It’s a family event at an apple farm down there. It sounds like it’ll be lots of fun, and there’ll be apple treats and crafts and things.”
“And animals,” Rainbow added, without looking up from her plate. “Fly’s always wanted to meet some chickens.”
“Uh-huh,” Flyby said, nodding.
Windy let out a little squeal, and grabbed Bow’s free forehoof. “What kind of crafts?” she asked.
Flyby shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said.
Rainbow shrugged. “Probably apple stuff. Pies, applesauce, stuff like that.”
Bow leaned over and nudged Surf. “Apple pies, eh?” he said. “Sounds like it might be right up your alley, Surf…”
It took Surfer Beach a moment to respond—and, when he did, he looked up, glanced around the table, and let out a little scowl.
“Aw, man,” he said. “You’re gonna make me go, too?”
“Of course!” Windy cried. “It’s a family event!”
“But the wind is supposed to be perfect today,” he said. “And besides, these losers," he added, gesturing to Flyby and Rainbow, "...are just gonna cramp my style.”
Flyby shot a quick glance at Rainbow, who sat frozen in her seat.
“Now Surf,” said Bow. “I know you’re eager to go windsurfing again, but we’ve been planning this for a while now.”
Surf sighed theatrically.
“Only because Flyby asked,” he grumbled. “We never go to the beach when I want.”
Windy looked at Bow, confused.
“We just went last week, didn’t we?” she asked.
Flyby looked down at Rainbow’s fork, which trembled in her grasp, then up into her face. She swallowed, but said nothing.
“Anyway,” Surf continued, “I don’t exactly see the point of a brother attending a so-called—” He sniffed. “—Sisterhooves Social.”
Rainbow’s fork clattered to the table.
Everyone turned to look at her. Her face was twisted in an open snarl. She put her forehooves on the table, and started to stand—
Gently, Flyby reached out and put a hoof on her leg.
Rainbow turned to look at her, and she gently shook her head. Rainbow swallowed, and the fire went out of her eyes. Slowly, she sank back down into her seat, picked up her fork, and shoveled another bite of eggs into her mouth.
“...Is everything alright, Rainbow?” Windy asked nervously.
“She’s fine,” Flyby answered. “Her fork just slipped, is all.”
“Oh,” Windy replied, relieved, “that’s good. I’d hate for anyone to be in a funk today, of all days…”
They all ate in silence for a moment. Finally, Rainbow looked up and flashed Flyby a grateful smile. Flyby smiled a little, too, then nodded. They both went back to eating without another word.
Author's Note
For the curious, may I present: Pink Pearl Apples.
Also, to be 1,000,000% clear: Moonlight Serenade is AU Sweetie Belle. There was a lot of confusion about that among my readers, and, though I've cleared up the text a lot, I don't want there to be any confusion at this point.
“AJ! They’re almost here!” cried Apple Bloom.
Applejack looked up and smiled. Apple Bloom stood on a branch high in one of the apple trees, shading her eyes and looking out towards the road leading into town.
“C’mon, AB,” she said, “get down from there. They know the way, they’ll make it—”
With a rustling of leaves, Pinks appeared on the branch beside Apple Bloom, her mane tied back in a red bandana. Applejack’s eyes widened.
“Ooo!” Pinks squealed, bouncing up and down on the branch, which was already groaning under their combined weight. “There’s lotsa ponies this year, Jackie!” she cried in heedless enthusiasm, “I even see a couple pegasusses!”
“Pink Pearl Apple!” Applejack roared. “You get down here this instant, before you fall and hurt—”
“I ain’t gonna fall,” Pinks said indignantly from beside her.
Applejack yelped and looked over at her sister, who stood two feet to her left, with a grave, earnest expression on her face.
“I don’t never fall,” Pinks continued, as if nothing had happened. “I’m real good at climbin’ trees. Aint’cha noticed?”
Applejack made a strangled sort of noise, then looked from her sister to the tree where she’d been standing not two seconds before—with Apple Bloom sliding, chagrined, down its trunk—then back to where Pinks still stood, watching her. Applejack decided not to think about it, then turned and walked towards the little craft market they’d set up close to the barn. Granny Smith was sitting at one of the stalls, nodding off, while Big Mac walked the aisles, setting down bales of straw at each stall for seating. A few of the merchants had already arrived, and were laying out their wares.
After a half-second, Pinks trotted up beside Applejack and fell into step. “Everythin’ okay, Jackie?” she asked. “You don’t ordinarily mind me climbin’ trees.”
“ ‘Course I do,” Applejack snapped. “I always mind when you’re actin’ a right’—” She stopped, then sighed.
Applejack shot a furtive glance over at Pinks. If her words had hurt her, she was good enough not to show it.
“Sorry,” Applejack added.
“S’okay,” Pinkie said simply.
The two of them walked in silence for a minute or two. Pinks scanned the little square, making sure that ponies were finding their spots, that all the decorations were in place and perfect, and that all the signs she’d spent weeks painting were just right. Beside her, Applejack plodded along with her head down, silent.
After a minute, Pinks glanced over at Applejack. Applejack was good at everything, just like a big sister should be—but the one thing she wasn’t good at was stress. Anything out of the normal would get her linens all in a twist. With her linens twisted up, she had a hard time thinking straight. And, though she was good at hiding her feelings, Pinks could tell she wasn’t exactly in the best of moods at the moment.
Pinks sighed. She knew that, as much as Applejack loved the farm, and as much as she loved her family, and all the traditions they had… she didn’t exactly truck with all this party nonsense. Not when there was real work to be done around the place.
They walked in silence a little longer, before Pinks looked over at Applejack.
“Hey,” she said, “if y’want, you could run the Obstacle Race with Bloom.”
“Huh?” said Applejack, jerking her head up.
Pinks shrugged. “I know y’miss it,” she said. “And I know you kinda need to stretch your legs a little.” She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I know it was me and Bloom who was s’posed to run,” she said, “but if you want my spot, it’s yours.”
Applejack stared at her blankly for several seconds, before breaking into a smile.
“That sounds… real nice,” she said. “If you’re sure.”
Pinks nodded. “I’m sure,” she said. “Anythin’ for my bestest sister.”
Applejack dabbed at her eyes. “C’mon, now,” she said. “Don’t go sayin’ that… Bloom might hear ya.”
“Ah, I’ll make it up to her,” she said. “ ‘Sides, she loves ya, too.” Pinks nudged Applejack. “Now all you gotta do is keep smilin’ like that,” she said, “and everything else will take care a’ itself.”
And, despite herself, Applejack smiled a little wider.
“See?” Pinks said. “Just like that.”
* * *
“--so then, I went and saw the Princess, and she gave me a book on Crystal Resonance—”
Radiance sniffed and straightened her sun hat, then stepped off the train. Behind her came her big brother, Shining Armor, and, prancing along beside him, little Twilight, who hadn’t shut her foundering mouth since the moment they’d got on at the Canterlot station. It was adorable, in its own way—but it ceased to be entertaining after about fifteen minutes.
The train ride had been an hour and a half.
Behind the two of them came their parents, followed closely by Spike and Moonlight Serenade, both chattering excitedly.
“Pfft,” Spike was saying, “one whole pie? I bet I could eat two—!”
Mother snorted, then looked back at the two of them. “If you think I’m going to give you money for a whole pie for yourself—”
“I’ve been saving my allowance,” Spike added quickly.
“Me, too!” Serenade piped up.
Mother rolled her eyes. “Well, if that’s what you want to spend your money on… but remember,” she added, with a look at Serenade, “you and Twiley were going to run that Obstacle Race later on, Serenade—and they usually have a pie-eating contest as one of the events. You don’t want to fill up too early and not be able to run with Twilight, after all—”
“That’s right!” Twilight cut in. “I’ve been practicing . This year, we’re gonna win! So anyway,” she said, turning back to Shiny, “Princess Celestia said that, since I’m an eighth grader now, she could start teaching me more advanced spells, like Bigby’s Bucking Hoof—”
Radiance, trying to ignore her little sister’s prattle, glanced around. She spotted a knot of strapping young stallions, then stopped, waited for her family to walk past her, and waved. Two of the stallions ignored her, but the third waved back. She flashed him a winning smile, then turned and trotted to catch up with her family.
And watched in horror as they walked straight through a mud puddle. Spike yelped and clambered up on Serenade’s back, but the others clomped right on through without stopping, like the uncultured swine that Radiance secretly suspected they all were.
Radiance edged her way up to the puddle, then shot a spark from her horn. An ice-blue hexagon of glowing magic spread across the puddle, shimmering in the sunlight. Radiance let out a self-satisfied little noise, then trotted across it and up alongside Shining Armor. She caught up just as they crossed the bridge over the river onto the Sweet Apple Acres property, the river below flowing deep and fast.
Shiny, with Twilight still bounding eagerly beside him, looked up and shot Radiance a smile.
“You’ve been practicing those tricks I told you,” he said, over Twilight’s chatter.
“I have,” Radiance admitted.
“Well,” he said, “energy shields do run in the family—”
“And then, I asked the Princess if she had a book on ley lines, and—”
“Twiley, darling,” Radiance snapped. “Could you possibly quiet down for one minute? Shiny and I are trying to have a conversation .”
“It’s fine,” Shiny began, “I kinda—”
Twilight’s eyes flashed. “So are we!” she snapped.
“I would hardly call detailing the contents of your personal library a conversation,” Radiance shot back. “Besides, don’t you do anything but read? And, of course, I’m not counting your obsession with—” she sniffed daintily “--your pulp adventures.”
Twilight snarled. “Daring Do is not pulp!” she spat. “Besides, Daring Do is better than Shadow Spade!”
Radiance whipped her head around. “She is not!” she cried, her sunglasses slipping down her face. “Shadow is a brave and mature detective, not some glorified tomb raider.”
Twilight’s eyes flashed. “Oh yeah?” she cried back. “You just like her because you want to be a cop when you grow up!”
“What does that mean for you, then?” Radiance snapped. “That you want to play in the dirt for the rest of your life?”
Twilight’s eyes flashed. “At least Daring Do isn’t one of those saddle-rippers you read!” she spat. Mother turned and shot them an incredulous look, but Twilight was still going strong. “Those books are just--gross! ”
Radiance pressed her face up against Twilight’s, her eyes blazing. “You take that back, you little snot!” she hissed.
Twilight opened her mouth to respond, but Mother stepped between them. “Girls,” she snapped. “We are going to the Sisterhooves Social. I will not let you tear each other’s throats out over books .”
“But they’re not just books,” Twilight whined, “they’re—”
Mother shot her a glare, and Twilight stammered to a stop. Mother looked up at the two of them. “Now, please ,” she said, her voice strained at the edges, “let’s go and have a good time. And, if you don’t think you can do that, I’ll send you home right now. Don’t try me.” She looked up at Radiance. “And I think,” she added, “that we’ll need to have a discussion regarding what exactly it is you keep in your library, young lady.”
Radiance harrumphed, then turned and walked away, nose in the air. Mother looked helplessly at Father, who shrugged, then hurried to catch up to her.
* * *
Flyby landed in the center of the market square, a little too hard, and stumbled forward several paces before she could stop herself. She pushed her flight goggles up onto her forehead, then stood there, breathing hard.
Flyby glanced around, and noticed that a few of the merchants were already staring at her. Her eyes grew wide, and her breathing quickened--
“You okay, Fly?” Rainbow said, landing delicately beside her.
Flyby turned at stared at her blankly for a second, then swallowed, hard. Her breathing slowed, and, finally, she nodded. “Uh-huh,” she added, unnecessarily.
Rainbow chuckled a little. “I think you’re just a little too eager to see those chickens of yours, is all,” she said. “Don’t know why,” she added. “They’re just fat, cranky pigeons…”
A whoosh and a clatter of hooves signalled the arrival of Windy Whistles, Bow Hothoof, and Surf. Flyby turned to glance at them, and, immediately, Windy yelped.
“Ooh, Flee-Bee!” she cried. “Come here, let me fix your mane—”
Without waiting for a response, she stepped forward and started fussing with Flyby’s mane. Where she had pushed her goggles up on her forehead, she had scrunched up her mane; Windy frantically tried to tease it out again, twittering anxiously as she did so. Under her touch, Flyby stiffened the slightest bit. Rainbow’s eyes widened, and she stepped forward.
“Hey, Mom,” she said, “I got a look at the stalls on the way down. Lots of crafts and stuff. You might want to get going if you want to see everything.” She shot Flyby a smirk. “And I think I saw some of those hoof-painted plates you like—”
Windy Whistles squealed, then pranced in place for a step or two. “Bow, she should go!” Windy cried. “They have plates!” Flyby shot Rainbow another little smile, and Rainbow nodded imperceptibly.
Surf groaned dramatically, and the two girls looked at him.
“I hope the clerk is hot, at least,” he grumbled. “Then this trip won’t be a complete waste.”
Rainbow snarled and stepped forward, but Flyby put out a hoof and stopped her. Flyby turned and met Rainbow’s gaze; as she stared into her sister’s eyes, she took a deep breath, then turned back to Surf.
“I don’t think you should talk about mares like that,” Flyby said, her voice quiet and firm. “It’s disrespectful.”
Surf scoffed, then rolled his eyes. “Nothing wrong with keepin’ an eye out for babes, Flea-Bag, ” he muttered. “I mean, there’s nothin’ better to do...”
Rainbow’s eyes flashed. “Surf, be real ,” she cut in. “You’re, what—fifteen? And a hundred-twenty pounds, soaking wet?” She smirked. “How many mares d’ya think would want to have some fun with a quality specimen like you?”
Surf scowled.
“Aw, c’mon,” Bow said, putting a hoof around his shoulders. “Sure, he might not be a catch now-- but at least he’s getting some practice in while he’s young, right?”
Flyby rolled her eyes again.
“Anyways,” Bow said, “Let’s get goin’. Gotta find those plates, after all!” He turned and steered Surfer deeper into the fair, Surf himself shooting his sisters a dirty look over his shoulder, and Windy prancing after them.
Flyby took a deep breath, then looked around. “I wonder where the animals are supposed to be,” she said, taking a step forward. “After all, I—”
Flyby bumped into something solid, something that grunted in alarm. Flyby leaped back as something crashed to the ground beside her. Rainbow charged up and, standing over her sister’s quivering, whimpering form, snarled.
“Wheredaya think you’re goin’, you—you—!” Her eyes widened—and she looked up… and up… and up.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Ohh…”
The big, red stallion standing in front of them gave Rainbow a slow, contemplative look, colored with the slightest hint of exasperation, then bent down and picked up the barrels he had been carrying. They were only three of them, and they were all empty, but they still couldn’t have weighed less than forty of fifty pounds each. The stallion was picking them up and stacking them carefully on his back as easily as if they had been made of clouds.
Flyby swallowed, then shakily stood. She snuck a furtive glance at the stallion, then reached up and pulled her flight goggles partially off her face, letting her tousled mane fall back into its natural peekaboo bang, before letting them snap back on her head. Beside her, Rainbow blushed and let out a girlish giggle.
“So… handsome…” she said, tossing her mane, “what’s your name?”
“Big Mac,” he grunted.
“Big Mac, huh?” Rainbow repeated.
“Ee-yup.”
“Whatcha up to?”
“Settin’ up for the race.”
Rainbow’s ears perked up.
“The race?” she repeated eagerly.
“Ee-yup.”
“When’s that?” Rainbow cried.
“Later.”
Rainbow waited for him to continue, but Big Mac just eyed the two barrels laid crosswise on his back, shifted his balance slightly, then reached for the third.
Rainbow licked her lips. “Say, Mac—” she began. “—can I call you Mac?”
He glanced at her. “Ee-yup.”
Rainbow looked down, feigning shyness. “I—I’ve heard that you guys have some adorable chickens, but I don’t know where I can find them… d’ya think you could… y’know…” she looked up and grinned. “...show us where we can find ‘em?”
Big Mac carefully balanced the third barrel on top of the other two, then turned and nodded. “Thataway,” he said. “Can’t miss ‘em.”
And, with that, he turned and walked off.
Rainbow stood stock-still and watched him go. Flyby, standing beside her, glanced furtively around, then let out a happy sigh. Rainbow looked at her sharply.
“What are you doin’ that for?” she snapped. “I saw him first.”
Flyby scowled. “Did not ,” she shot back. “I ran into him. I saw him first.”
“Yeah?” Rainbow retorted. “Well you didn’t say a word to him, I had to do all the work! He’s mine!”
The two sisters glared at each other for a long, silent moment--until Flyby took a half-step backwards and lowered her head. Rainbow gave a self-satisfied little snort, then turned and trotted away. Slowly, Flyby raised her eyes and watched her go. A fresh scowl crawled across her face, and a tiny flame sparked behind her eyes.
Flyby trotted after her sister. “I saw him first,” she muttered under her breath, her voice high and mocking. “I made a fool out of myself for him. That means I’m special—”
Flyby, still muttering, disappeared into the crowd.
“Thanks for comin’, Miss Cheerilee!” Pinks cried happily.
Miss Cheerilee smiled and picked up her pie in its box, then turned and balanced it carefully on her back. Pinks sighed as she watched her go. The Social was one of her favorite times of year—aside from Hearth’s Warming, of course—and Nightmare Night, too—and the Summer Sun Celebration, while you were at it—and—
Anyways. Pinks loved the Sisterhooves Social because it made her so happy to see so many good ponies enjoying her pies. She loved making them, and ponies loved eating them, and the farm could really use the money they brought in, so it was a win-win-win all around. Not to mention, Pinks loved to meet everypony that came by, from all over the place, and—
A pair of eyes peered over the edge of the table. “Excuse me,” they said, “is this where you buy the wagon-wheel apple pies?”
“Yep!” Pinks cried joyfully. “Big as wagon wheels, and twice as tasty!” She chuckled a little at her own joke—then glanced down at the new customer.
There was actually two of them—a little purple dragon standing on two legs, and a white unicorn filly. They looked familiar—but then again, so did everyone at the Social. She was just about to ask their names, when the dragon fished a small bag from somewhere and set it on the counter with a clink .
“Two pies, then, please,” he said.
Pinks grinned and eyes the two of them.
“Two pies, y’say?” she asked brightly. “You’re not plannin’ any pranks or nothin’, now are ya?”
The two of them solemnly shook their heads. “No, ma’am,” the filly said.
“Okay, then,” Pinks said, “two pies, comin’ right up!”
In one swift, practiced motion, Pinks grabbed two cardboard boxes off the stack at her side, one in each hoof, and shook them open. She slapped them down on the table, slipped a pie into each (she needed both hooves for that part), then closed the lids. A quick flurry of twine later, and she had both the pies stacked on top of each other, tied neatly together with a little bow on top. She looked up in time to see the look of wonder on the faces of her little customers, and her grin widened.
Then, the reached over and dumped out the little sack.
As she stared at the tiny pile of bits, she knew immediately it wasn’t going to be enough for two pies. Barely enough for one , if they were lucky.
Pinks slowly began to separate the coins into small piles while she tried to figure out what to do. The coins were all small denominations—half- and quarter-bits—and there were more than a few pieces of lint and old chewing gum mixed up with the coins. Someone had cleaned out their piggy bank just for the occasion, it seemed.
But then, she looked up. The filly and the dragon stared back at her with wide, eager eyes. Eyes almost quivering in anticipation. In fact, unless she missed her guess, the dragon had already started drooling.
Aw, to Tartarus with it.
Pinks swept the change into her cash box without looking at it. “Here ya go!” she cried, pushing the pies forward. The dragon stepped forward and grabbed them off the table, as the little filly squealed in delight, and, before you could say git , the two of them dashed off for parts unknown.
“Don’t eat ‘em all at once, y’hear?” Pinks called after them—but they were already long-gone. She chuckled to herself, then shook her head. They were gonna get in trouble, with two pies between the two of them, but they were gonna have a good time of it, at least, sure as cider.
Pinks turned back to the line, then broke into a wider grin. “Oh hey, Missus Cake!” she cried. “How’s the family?”
* * *
Radiance was in the middle of examining some adorable little vintage cut-glass dishes one of the vendors had on display when she perked up her ears.
“Hey, Gorgeous,” said a voice from behind her.
Radiance glanced around, then raised an eyebrow. Standing behind her was a stallion with a deep teal coat, a messy blonde mane, and a winning smile. She set the dish on the table, then looked him up and down; he seemed to take her interest as a compliment, and smiled a little wider.
“My mom calls me Surfer Beach,” the stallion said, “but my friends call me Surf.”
“Good to meet you… Surf,” Radiance said.
As she said his name, his smile grew even wider. “What’s your name, Beautiful?” he asked.
She watched him for a moment, then cracked a small grin.
“Radiance,” she said.
He stared at her, wide-eyed.
“Radiance?” he repeated.
She smiled a little wider and nodded.
“Like the Power Pony?” he asked, dumbfounded.
Her smile froze.
“An unfortunate coincidence,” she said, her voice suddenly cold, “born from my brother’s admiration for the medium of sequential art.”
Surf watched her, his expression blank. Radiance stared back; she could see the wheels turning behind his eyes, and could have sworn she caught the faintest whiff of burning motor oil. But, before she could comment, Surf smiled at her again and winked.
“Hey, you’re good with big words,” he said warmly. “I’ve never been with a nerdy girl before.”
He took a step closer. Radiance’s upper lip twitched into a faint snarl, and she took a step backwards.
“So, Radey—can I call you Radey?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “Absolutely n—!”
“Great!” he said, cutting her off. “So, you still in school, Radey?”
Radiance’s ears perked up, and she smiled. She had sensed an opening.
“I am,” she said. “And I’m working hard on my studies, too—my chosen college is very competitive, and I’ll need all the help I can get.”
Surf raised an eyebrow, and he took the bait. “Oh?” he asked. “Where do you want to go?”
Radiance’s eyes glittered, cold and sharp. “The Canterlot Police Academy,” she said sweetly.
His eyes widened. “T-the Canterlot Police—!”
“Mh-hm,” Radiance said with a nod. “I mean, the uniforms are ever so fetching, and I’d like to think I have the temperment for handling the sort of ruffians one encounters on the job. Besides,” she added, “I do believe that sort of work runs in my family. After all, my brother, Shining Armor, is a Royal Guard. You’ve heard of him, of course?” she added, off-handedly. “He’s actually captain of the Guard—part of Princess Celestia’s personal entourage, in fact.”
It was a lie, but only a small one—though Radiance was reasonably sure that Surf wouldn’t have noticed, even if she’d sworn she was actually Princess Celestia in disguise.
For just a moment, Radiance hoped against hope that she had somehow gotten through his thick skull, but then—
Surf smiled. “It’s cool,” he said. “I dig it, I dig it.”
He stepped up beside Radiance, and slid an arm over her shoulders. Radiance drew back with a sharp hiss.
“In fact,” Surf continued, heedless, “Once you get your hoof-cuffs, you should totally try ‘em out on me. I hear that stuff is kinda fun…”
Radiance’s expression flattened. Without another word, she lit her horn.
Suddenly, stars exploded behind Surf's eyes. He found himself flat on his back, his snout throbbing in white-hot pain.
“Oh, no,” Radiance said, her voice flat, almost dispassionate. “I appear to have accidentally knocked you over. What a shame.”
When the world stopped spinning, Surfer rolled over and clambered back onto his shaky hooves.
“Sweet Celestia,” he muttered. “If you like it rough, all you gotta do is ask—”
And once again, Surf found himself on his back—this time, he caught the faint after-image of an ice-blue hexagon hovering in the air before it faded.
“Oh dear,” Radiance said, in the same, expressionless tone. “It seems to have happened again.” She looked down at Surfer, a look of open disdain in her eyes. “I must be having a reaction of some sort,” she said, almost casually. “Perhaps it has something to do with slimy little colts pretending to be the sort of stallion that is actually worth my time,” she hissed.
Surfer’s eyes widened. It seems that the two brain cells that had been chasing each other around his skull for the past five minutes had finally managed to find each other. He swallowed nervously.
“I must get that checked out,” Radiance added, in her normal voice again. She turned back to the table, and picked up the dish she had been examining before.
It was only after she had heard Surf scramble to his hooves and dash unsteadily away that she permitted herself a small smile.
* * *
Rainbow Dash leaned her head on the top rail of the fence. “There’s your stupid chickens,” she grumbled.
Flyby shot her a scathing look, then turned to the birds. They were, as Rainbow had said, fat —so much so, they barely resembled the blue jays and cardinals she was used to. But she knew birds , and that was good enough, right?
“Here, chickees!” cried Flyby. “C’mere, darlings!” She pursed her lips and whistled, a high, bright, songbird tune.
But none of them even looked at her. They just kept on wandering their little yard, scratching at the dirt and clucking.
Flyby frowned, then pursed her lips again.
“Look, we’ve seen them,” Rainbow growled. “They’re big, and dumb, and stupid, just like the rest of your birds. Can we go now?”
Flyby clenched her jaw, and almost spat back a reply—when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a little filly. She had a cream coat, and a dark-red mane, with a big silk ribbon in her hair. Flyby watched her curiously as she eased open the gate to the pen, before turning back to the chickens and whistling another tune.
“What’re ya doin’ that for?” asked the little filly.
Both Rainbow and Flyby turned to look at her. She was staring back at Flyby in confusion. “That whistlin’,” she clarified.
Flyby blushed. “Oh. W-well, I just wanted to—”
Rainbow sighed. “She wanted to pet your chickens, like she pets the rest of her birds,” she muttered.
The little filly brightened up. “Oh, is that what you’re doin’?” she asked. “You don’t call ‘em like that, silly—you just—”
The filly turned to the chickens, and made a peculiar sort of coughing sound. “Buh—buh-cawk!” she cried.
Instantly, all the chickens looked up, then ran to her, clucking and squawking. Flyby let out a tiny little squeal of excitement, and Rainbow just rolled her eyes.
The filly snatched up a fat white chicken, then carried her to the fence. Flyby reached out two shaking hooves and grabbed it, then pulled it close.
“This one’s Elizabeak,” the filly said brightly. “She’s my favorite.”
Flyby petted her gently. “My,” she said, “You’re a plump little thing, aren’t you?” She looked up at the filly. “She’s so warm—! ”
The filly nodded. “Yep! The big ones make the best eggs, and they like spendin’ all day in the sunshine.”
Flyby looked back down at Elizabeak. “And how do you—?”
Rainbow groaned. “That’s enough, Flea-Bag,” she said. “You got to pet her, now put her back and lets go check out that racetrack. It’s only fair,” she added.
Flyby whipped her head around to face Rainbow, her expression blank. The filly, slightly mystified, looked back and forth between them, then gingerly lifted Elizabeak from Flyby’s hooves. The motion snapped Flyby awake, who shook her head, then turned and saw Rainbow’s backside retreating into the distance once again. Flyby snarled, and the flame behind her eyes swelled.
She charged after Rainbow, leaving Elizabeak and the filly gazing cluelessly after them.
“That was not fair,” Flyby hissed as she pulled up alongside Rainbow. “You could’ve been patient for another minute or two—”
“Aw, can it,” Rainbow spat back. “You have birds at home .”
“Yeah,” Flyby hissed back, “but not chickens—”
“They’re all the same,” Rainbow interrupted. “And, besides—”
“AWRIGHT, EVERYPONY!”
Granny Smith’s voice, amplified by the megaphone, boomed out over the crowd.
“The big Obstacle Race starts in fifty—”
A sudden silence, punctuated by urgent whispering.
“Starts in fifteen minutes! That’s what I said,” she added, but to who, no one could tell. “Make sure all racin’ sisters are at the startin’ line with their partners, or you’ll get dispepsic!”
More whispering.
“Disqualified!” Granny roared. “That’s what I said,” she added, sulkily.
Pinks’s head popped up over the crowd. She scanned the huddled ponies with a faint frown; after a moment’s scrutiny, she popped her head back down. She made her way through the crowd, her progress marked by only a few indignant yelps, before scrambling up on top of a convenient barrel. She stood on tip-hoof and scanned the crowd again. After a moment, she spotted her target, grinned, then hopped from the barrel onto the back of Whirligig (Favorite Apple: Jonagold, Cider Preference: Pulp-Free, Low-Spice) and onto the ground. A few quick strides, and she was there.
“Hey-ya, Bloom!” she cried happily. “I found you! You ready?”
“Yep!” Apple Bloom said, lifting her chin to show off the bright green bandana tied around her neck. “Headin’ over there now!”
Pinks looked her over. “Are you really gonna race in that big hairbow a’ yours?” she asked, flicking the bow with a grin.
Apple Bloom clapped her hooves over her bow and scowled. “I need it,” she huffed. “Keeps my mane outta my eyes.”
“Yeah,” Pinks said. “But that’s one a’ your nice silk ones. A rubber band would do ya just as good.”
Apple Bloom glowered at her, but Pinks just giggled. Apple Bloom flashed a weak smile.
Pinks nodded towards the starting banner, barely visible over the crowd. “Better get goin’,” she said. “Don’t wanna be late, now!”
Apple Bloom frowned. “Aren’t you racin’, too?” she asked, bewildered.
Pinks shook her head. “Nah,” she said. “Jackie’s all stressed, and she needs it more than me. ‘Sides,” she said, nudging Apple Bloom conspiratorially. “I don’t think she’s ever had a chance to race with you . Why don’t you see what the two a’ you can do out there?”
Apple Bloom opened her mouth, then closed it. “B-but I wanted to race with you,” she said, a faint whine in her voice. “We practiced ‘n’ everything.”
Pinks sighed, then pulled her in for a hug. “I know, Sugarcube,” she whispered. “But sometimes, you gotta do things you don’t wanna do for the ponies you love.” She looked down at Apple Bloom. “And we both love Jackie a whole bunch, don’t we?”
Apple Bloom sniffled. “Yeah,” she admitted.
“Yeah, we do,” Pinks repeated. “Jackie, she… she’s havin’ a hard time. And, win or lose, runnin’ with ya will make her feel better, I reckon.” Pinks hesitated, then smiled, and pulled Apple Bloom closer. “Tell ya what,” she said, “I’ll time the two a’ ya. And then, after everypony’s gone home, we can run it again, just the two of us. See who’s faster.” She grinned. “That work for ya?”
Apple Bloom smiled. “Sure,” she said.
“Good,” Pinks said, patting her on the shoulder. “Now, get goin’, and I’ll go find Jackie for ya.”
Apple Bloom slipped away and started to trot, a spring in her step, towards the starting line. Just as she was about to move out of reach, however, Pinks had an idea. She grinned a little wider, then leaned in and grabbed the loose end of Apple Bloom’s hairbow in her teeth. As Apple Bloom kept walking, the bow pulled, and partially slid out of its knot. Pinks let go before the bow parted entirely; now, her bow hung lopsided, with a long, trailing tail. Pinks chuckled to herself, then turned and skipped away. When she noticed, they’d have a laugh, and Pinks would promise not to do it again, and she wouldn’t—because good sisters could tease each other now and then, as long as feelings didn’t get hurt.
Heck—maybe Bloom’d notice before anyone else did, and go find a hair tie a little more suitable for playing in the mud.
* * *
Radiance trotted down the small path by the edge of the river, looking this way and that. Any other day, she would have loved to take a break by the riverbank—the water flowed swift and deep, and the grass along its sides would have made for a lovely picnic.
But that picnic would have to wait. She had more important matters on her mind.
“Seren-ade!” Radiance cried, as she searched the trees. “Serenade, where are you? It’s almost time for your—!”
Radiance pulled up short and listened carefully. There it was again, over the sound of the water—a low, painful moan. Slowly, Radiance crept forward and around a tree, then stopped and stared.
There, lying in a pool of sunlight at the base of a tree, lay both Spike and Moonlight Serenade, eyes half-closed, mouths open, tongues dangling out. The two half-empty pie tins between them, coupled with their swollen bellies, left few questions as to what exactly the problem was.
For just a moment, Radiance felt a flash of irritation—Mother had told them not to spend their money on pies—!
But still, she swallowed her irritation, and knelt beside her sister.
“Serenade,” she said, an unaccustomed note of tenderness in her voice, “are you okay?”
Serenade’s eyes fluttered open, and her head lolled towards Radiance. “Urgh…” she groaned. “My tummy…”
“I know, sweetie,” Radiance said, taking her by the hoof. “I know.” She smiled a little. “That’s what you get for trying to eat a whole pie...”
Serenade just moaned and turned away.
Radiance put a hoof on her forehead. “What do you need?” she asked. “Some water? A baggie? Would you like me to go find Mama?”
“Twilight...” she groaned.
Radiance’s expression froze. “You… you want me to go find Twilight?” she asked slowly.
Serenade looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears. “Twilight can’t run the race,” she said. “Not without a sister…”
Radiance broke into a weak smile, then ran her hoof through Serenade’s mane. “Aww,” she said, “I don’t think she’d mind. I don’t think she really likes—”
A fire sprung up in Serenade’s eyes, half-smothered though it was by sluggish pain. “Yes she does,” she insisted. “She told me she loves the Race! And…” she sniffled. “...and now she can’t run , because of me…”
Radiance stared at her sister, into those big, green eyes of hers. She bit her lip and thought for a second—but only for a second.
“I’ll do it,” she said.
Serenade looked up at her. “Huh?” she said.
“I’ll run for you,” Radiance repeated. “I’ll take your place, and run for you. And I’ll make sure that Twilight will get a chance to race, too.”
Serenade shook her head slightly. “But… there’s mud— a-and—”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me.” She smiled. “Is that okay?” she added. “If I take over your spot?”
Serenade stared up at her for a moment, then nodded mutely.
“Good,” she said. She bent down and kissed Serenade on the forehead. “Now, you two stay right here,” she said. “I’ll send Mama or Daddy to come find you. Okay?”
Serenade just nodded again.
“Good,” Radiance said. “See you soon.”
She stood, squared her shoulders, and headed back towards the square. Somewhere in the back of her brain, she had a sneaking suspicion that she was going to regret promising to run that race—but, then again, when it came to her sister—
Well. She was prepared to do worse than traipse through a little mud for her family. Even if that family included Twilight Sparkle.
* * *
Rainbow shot a furtive look over her shoulder at Flyby, standing twenty or thirty feet away, and who pretended not to notice. Rainbow turned back to the bored-looking mare sitting at the registration table.
“There has to be two racers?” she whispered.
The mare nodded. “Yep,” she said. “Two sisters, each with a distinctive item of clothing, so we can tell y’all apart.”
Rainbow bit her lip. “Well…” she said, “my sis isn’t much for racing…”
The mare shrugged. “Fine by me,” she said disinterestedly.
“Really?” Rainbow almost squealed. “Then you’ll—?”
“Next,” she called, pointedly pushing Rainbow out of the way.
Rainbow huffed, and watched as a pair of unicorns stepped up to register for the race. She turned, then plodded back and stood beside Flyby. Flyby glanced at her, a faint sneer on her face, then looked away. Neither of them spoke for a second.
“They won’t let me race solo,” Rainbow said. “I need a partner.”
“So?” asked Flyby sulkily. “Ask Surf.”
Rainbow growled a little. “I need a female partner,” she hissed. “A sister. Y’know, for the Sisterhooves Social?”
Flyby hmphed and stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t see why that’s my problem,” she said.
Rainbow licked her lips, then took a deep breath. “I need you to race with me,” she said.
Flyby turned to look at her, the fire in her eyes leaping higher. She watched Rainbow in silence for a long moment.
Flyby took a deep breath, then stood up straighter. “No,” she said firmly.
Rainbow’s eyes widened. “Come on, Fly,” she pleaded, a faint whine in her voice. “I took you to see the chickens.”
“For ten seconds,” Flyby shot back. “What’s that worth on the racetrack? Five yards?”
“And I let you borrow my sneakers last week.”
“You mean my sneakers?” Flyby demanded. “The ones I’d been looking for since January? The one that randomly appeared in the back of your closet?”
Rainbow grimaced. “Flyby, I need this.”
Flyby turned and glared at her. “Like I needed my chickens?”
Rainbow glared back for just a moment, then turned away. She swallowed, then turned back to her.
“I’ll do the dishes for a week,” she said.
Flyby eyed her suspiciously. “Two weeks,” she said. “And I want my clothes back. All of them.”
Rainbow’s lips twitched into a faint snarl. “Then give me back my sweats,” she snapped. “And no more of my protein shakes.”
Flyby narrowed her eyes. She stayed quiet for a moment, then lifted up her hoof, spat into it, then held it out. Rainbow smiled a little, spat into her own hoof, then clicked it to Flyby’s. They shook hooves, and, without another word, the two of them walked to the back of the registration line.
“And no setting the table with paper plates,” Flyby added. “That’s cheating.”
“You’ve done it,” Rainbow replied.
“Not after we spit-shook on it,” Flyby said.
“Fine. Whatever.” Rainbow said, grumpily. She looked away—then, slowly, her eyes drifted up to the goggles Flyby still wore on her forehead.
“Hey,” she said thoughtfully, “d’ya think Mom might have brought an extra pair of those…?”
* * *
Apple Bloom stood at the starting line with the other racers who had lined up already. They weren’t supposed to start for a few minutes yet, but Apple Bloom still found herself getting impatient. What was taking Applejack so long?
Something tickled at the back of her neck. She shook her head, and it went away—but just for a moment. She was too busy scanning the crowd to notice when it started tickling again.
A gentle breeze blew down the racetrack, just enough to feel nice on a balmy summer day. But, with a rustling of the trees, the breeze quickly grew into a sharp gust, then dropped again to a mild zephyr.
Apple Bloom didn’t notice that anything had changed until her mane fell in front of her eyes. “Wh’ the—?” she cried.
She pushed her bangs out of the way, then felt at the back of her head for her ribbon. It was gone. She gasped and looked frantically around—only to see her pink ribbon floating away on that gust of wind, high over the trees.
“Aw, consarn it,” she muttered to herself, and set off after it.
“Racers!” cried the old mare into the megaphone, “Line up with your partners!”
Pinks bit her lip, then looked around. There was Applejack, at the starting line—but where was Bloom? She was supposed to be here already…
She swallowed nervously, then pushed her way back into the crowd, listening with half an ear to Granny Smith.
“This here’s the Sisterhooves Social Obstacle Race,” she was saying. “There’s six events that you gotta do—and you all gotta do ‘em,” she added. “No tryin’ to cheat or nothin’, y’hear?”
A nervous chuckle rippled through the crowd.
“Th’ first sisters to cross the finish line together,” she said, “each get a blue ribbon, and a case o’ our own world-famous zap-apple jam to share!”
A few, scattered cheers.
“Last thing,” Granny Smith called. “Play fair . That means no magic, an’ no flyin’. Got that?”
A smattering of murmured agreement.
“Awright! Everyone here?”
Pinks winced, then stood on tip-hoof and scanned the crowd, trying hard to ignore the icky feeling in her stomach.
* * *
“Y’all ready?” cried the old mare.
Twilight looked up and down the line. There were ten or fifteen other pairs of sisters poised for the race, of all ages—some quite young, and a couple that looked to be just older than she. There was even a pair of pegasi—a blue one and a yellow one. But, though she looked as hard as she could, there was no Serenade.
Twilight bit her lip again, then stood on tip-hoof and looked over the heads of the crowd. As she looked, she felt somepony walk up beside her. She turned and almost yelped—beside her stood Radiance, staring straight ahead, her eyes hard and sharp.
And perched on her head was a white-and-blue baseball cap two sizes too small for her. On front, sparkling blue glitter-glue spelled out “BEST SISTERS 4EVER—SERENADE.”
Radiance flicked her gaze down at Twilight, then back forward again. “Not a word,” she hissed.
Twilight swallowed. “What happened to Serenade?”
“Ate too much pie,” Radiance said. “I’m taking her place.”
Despite herself, Twilight cracked a smile. “Aww,” she said, trying to mask her feelings with sarcasm, “you do care!”
Radiance’s lips twitched into a hint of a smile—one she quickly smothered. “Stay focused,” she snapped. “We’re gonna win this.” She slowly lowered herself into a runner’s stance. “I promised we would.”
Twilight eyed her, taking in her steely determination, then swallowed. She faced forward, and tried to mimic her sister’s pose.
* * *
“On yer marks…”
Flyby elbowed Rainbow and stuck out her tongue. Rainbow glared back at her, the goggles she hadn’t worn since she was a filly perched on her forehead. She growled, then elbowed Flyby back.
Both of them turned to face forward as the mare spoke again.
* * *
“Get set…”
Applejack sighed. Apple Bloom hadn’t come, for some reason. That was it, then. And she’d almost let herself get excited about the race...
She was about to take a step backwards—out of the race, back to the life of the responsible farmpony—when, suddenly, she became aware of another pony standing at her side.
She turned and saw her sister Pink Pearl Apple beside her. But she wasn’t wearing her normal, red bandana—it was a green one, just like the one around Applejack's own neck.
Applejack stared. Pinks turned and flashed Applejack a smile. Somehow, without words, Applejack knew what she was thinking:
You gotta have a sister to race in the Sisterhooves Social, dontcha? Well, I’m a sister too, ain’t I?
Applejack opened her mouth to respond—
“GOOOOO!!”bellowed Granny Smith.
* * *
Apple Bloom trotted to a stop beside the river. She pushed her mane out of her eyes, then looked around. After just a moment, her shoulders sagged, and she sighed heavily.
Her mane ribbon had finally drifted to a stop—on the very tip of a branch that hung out over the water. A branch far too thin and spindly for even her to climb out and get it.
Apple Bloom looked around for a stick or something she could use to grab it—and discovered, to her surprise, that she wasn’t alone. Up against the base of a nearby tree, dozing in the warm sunshine, was a little white unicorn, lying next to a little purple dragon. The unicorn, with crumbs all over her face, lazily opened an eye, watched her for a moment, then rolled over and lay still.
Apple Bloom mentally shrugged, then bit her lip. Slowly, she walked over to the riverbank, and watched her ribbon sway in the wind.
* * *
Radiance exploded off the starting line, her muscles snapping like steel springs. Twilight galloped after her, her mane flapping in the breeze.
They rounded a corner, and Twilight saw the mud pit—the first big obstacle. For a split second, she wondered how Radiance—prim, perfect Radiance, who would lose her mind if a single hair of her mane was out of place—would handle the mud.
But there was no time to think, the mud was upon them—
And suddenly, Radiance leapt.
Radiance arced gracefully through the air, her mane streaming behind her like some descending goddess. She touched down in the middle of the mud pit, spraying earth and water all about her as she landed.
And, almost before Twilight could register the sight, Radiance was off again, shooting up a rooster tail of spray as she thundered forward.
The whole process, from leap to landing, took no more than three or four seconds. And yet, Twilight couldn’t get it out of her head. As she, herself, splashed through the mud, Twilight couldn’t get the image of her sister flying through the air out of her head. The Radiance she knew could barely dust her room without having a conniption; then, why in Equestria did she throw herself into the mud like that?
And, almost before she asked the question, Radiance’s voice echoed inside her skull.
We’re gonna win this. I promised we would.
I promised.
A chill ran down Twilight’s spine. She lowered her head and charged forward.
* * *
Flyby was the first to see the row of tables. She galloped up beside one, as Rainbow skidded to a stop on the other side.
Rainbow and Flyby looked down at the same moment. On the table between them sat two apple pies—not the full-size wagon-wheel pies they’d been selling, but smaller ones, just this side of too large for a single pony.
Rainbow flashed Flyby a grin. “Race you to the bottom!” she cried joyfully. Then, as Flyby watched, she smashed her face directly into the pie, spraying apple goo and pastry crumbs all over the place. A moment later, and she started to munch noisily.
Flyby leaned in and took a delicate bite of her pie, then chewed throughtfully. It was good, sure, but not necessarily shove-the-whole-pie-down-the-proverbial-pie-hole-at-once good.
As she chewed, her ears pricked up, and she looked around. Suddenly, she froze. Her eyes widened, and, slowly, her chest began to rise and fall in quick little flutters. What fire was left in her eyes quickly blew out.
There were ponies . Ponies cheering. Ponies watching. Watching her. Waiting for her to eat the pie, to make a mess, to get it all over her, to laugh—
“Hey.”
Flyby heard the voice, but the laughter in her head was too loud, swirling around her—!
“Flyby,” said the voice. “Fly, look at me.”
Flyby swallowed, then looked down at her sister. Her face was covered in apple goo, but she was looking up at Flyby.
“Listen to me,” Rainbow said. “They don’t matter.”
Flyby swallowed.
“ I mean, look, ” Rainbow continued, nodding to the side.
Flyby glanced around. Of the dozen pairs of racers, four of them were already at their tables, trying to navigate their own pies. As she watched, a fifth pair—the farm sisters—dashed up. The pink one grabbed her pie in both hooves, and choked the thing down whole .
“See?” Rainbow whispered. “No one cares . There’s so many others, that everyone’s looking somewhere else.”
Flyby swallowed, then turned back to Rainbow. Slowly, a little warmth crept back into her eyes, and she smiled. She glanced back down at her pie, and Rainbow grinned.
“Try slamming your face in it,” she said. “It’s fun.”
And, with that, Rainbow went back to eating. Flyby smiled, then took another bite—and, after a seconds’ hesitation, opened her mouth wider and took another one.
* * *
Pinks slammed into the hay bale with her shoulder. It titled forward a few inches, then dropped back into place. Pinks strained, her hooves grinding into the dirt beneath her, but the bale didn’t move.
Pinks grimaced. She was an Apple. Should’ve been easy as pie to push this thing. Couldn’t be that hard—they let little fillies participate, after all!
But then again—a drop of sweat rolled down the back of her neck—she wasn’t a real farmpony, was she? Big Mac and Jackie did all the real work. They did the bucking and hauling, but all Pinks did was sort the apples and sell them. Did she even belong on a farm, if she couldn’t do the actual work? Was she even a real Apple at all, if she couldn’t even—?
Beside her, someone thudded into the bale.
“Ready?” Applejack grunted.
Pinks nodded.
“Push,” Applejack ordered.
Pinks braced herself again, and started pushing. And the bale moved, smooth as—well, not smooth as applesauce , it wasn’t that easy. But you get the idea. Smooth as something that was almost smooth, but with big chunks in. Smooth as pie filling? Either way, it moved .
Pinks pushed—or, really, she steered while Applejack pushed—until she saw the big chalk line pass under their hooves.
“We’re good!” Pinks cried—then collapsed against the bale in relief.
Applejack put her arm around her, and gave her a little squeeze. “Good job, Pinks,” she said.
Pinks shook her head. “Nuh-uh,” she said. “You did all the work. I was just there to make you look good.”
“That’s stinkin’ thinkin’,” Applejack replied. “Couldn’t a’ done it without ya, and you know it.” She pulled her hoof from around Pinks’s shoulders, and stood tall. “Now c’mon,” she said. “We got a race to win!”
Jackie leapt over the bale and took running. Pinks smiled, then took off after her.
* * *
Apple Bloom bit her lip, then took a hesitant step forward, onto the downslope of the steep bank. It held for just a moment—but then, it started to crumble, and Apple Bloom yanked her hoof back. She sighed in irritation, then looked up at her ribbon, still suspended over the rushing water.
“Hey,” said a voice. “Need some help?”
Apple Bloom jumped, then turned and looked. The little unicorn under the tree had woken up, and was looking up at her now.
“I, uh…” Apple Bloom turned, self-consciously, and looked back up at her ribbon. “I s’pose,” she admitted.
The unicorn rolled onto her belly, then stood with a grimace. She plodded over next to Apple Bloom and looked at the ribbon, then back to her. Her eyes flicked up to her disheveled mane, then back down to her face.
“You could always use a scrunchie,” the unicorn said.
“I like my ribbon,” she said defensively.
The unicorn nodded thoughtfully, then stuck out a hoof. “I’m Moonlight Serenade,” she said. “Most just call me Serenade.”
“Apple Bloom,” said Apple Bloom.
Serenade nodded, then turned and looked at the ribbon. She stuck her tongue in between her teeth, then lit her horn.
* * *
Radiance glowered down into the vat of grapes. Twilight was already inside, stomping away without a care in the world. Radiance winced; though she’d always thought hoof-pressed grape juice was romantic, at least in theory, in execution, it was proving to be… well, sticky, to put it frankly. And they’d just been running through the mud and everything, too—and that little tub of water they’d splashed in was hardly enough to properly clean one’s hooves—
Twilight glanced up at her.
“C’mon, Radey,” she jeered. “Can’t win this for Serenade from up there!”
Radiance scowled at her, sniffed, and took a delicate step down into the vat. At the very first squish she recoiled, and nearly stepped out again—but Radiance set her jaw. She was not going to let little Serenade down. And she was not, in a million years,going to let Twilight get the better of her.
And yet, it was so messy…
Radiance halfheartedly stepped all the way down into the grape sludge. She reluctantly picked up one of her forehooves, then set it down again, trying to ignore the unpleasant squelch. She lifted up a second hoof, then set it down again, and very nearly gagged. She didn’t mind a little mess—but getting your hooves all wet and sticky when there was perfectly good grape juice to be had at the store was simply going too far —
Out of the corner of her eye, Radiance saw Twilight, still stomping happily, look up at her. If she had been paying any more attention, she might have noticed Twilight stop moving, then watch her for a few moments. She might even have caught the wicked flash of inspiration that crossed her gaze.
“Omigosh, Radiance!” Twilight cried. “There’s a spider! A big, hairy one! In your mane!”
Radiance’s eyes bulged, and she shrieked like a frightened schoolfilly. She jumped up in the air a little, and, when she came down, she jogged in place for a few, terrified seconds—spraying Twilight with more than a little grape juice in the process. Twilight just smirked back at her.
Radiance noticed Twilight’s expression, then stopped her shrieking. She watched Twilight with wide eyes for just a moment, then stopped her jogging and glared at her.
“There is no spider,” she said, accusingly.
Twilight looked down at the grapes and resumed her stomping.
“Sorry,” she said. “Must have been a trick of the light or something.”
Radiance glared at her—then glanced down at her hooves. She stared at them for a moment in silence.
Well… now that she couldn’t get her hooves much dirtier, maybe it wouldn’t hurt ...
She started her stomping again, matching Twilight’s pace in a casual jog. After a moment, she shot her a grin—a tiny one, with more than a hint of irritation—but a grin nonetheless.
* * *
“Apple catchin’,” Applejack managed to say, her sides already heaving. “Launch, or catch?”
“Catch,” Pinks said, without hesitation. She dashed forward, scooped up the bushel, and kept running, all without breaking stride. AJ stopped for just a moment to catch her breath, then glanced over at the apples, where they stood piled in a bushel on the end of a narrow, wooden bench.
They’d decided to use the benches because they’d run out of chairs for the old folks who wanted to watch the festivities, and barrels were too high off the ground. But, maybe…
“Incoming!” AJ hollered, then leapt on one end of the bench. The bushel launched up in the air like it had been shot from a catapult. AJ stepped down, then watched the apples fly through the air. As they started to fall, she bit her lip.
She needn’t have worried; Pinks didn’t even blink. She watched the apples for a moment, then dropped her bushel, picked it up in her hooves, and held it over her head. And, with a thunderous roar like falling water, all the apples slammed into the bushel. Every single one.
Applejack let out a low whistle as Pinks set down the bushel. She shot a smile at Applejack, then turned and trotted towards the next event. Applejack took a deep breath, then galloped up to join her.
As she drew closer to Pinks, Applejack felt a little twinge of envy. Pinks could really move when she wanted to—and she could keep moving all day, if needed. And, she was so good with those hooves of hers, it was almost scary, sometimes.
Applejack frowned. She was the stronger of the two, they’d settled that a long time ago. But maybe there was more to being an Apple than just applebucking…
Pinks looked over her shoulder at Applejack. “C’mon, slowpoke!” she cried joyfully. “Don’t make me leave ya behind, now!”
Applejack grinned, took a deep breath, then put on a fresh burst of speed.
* * *
“Careful, now,” Apple Bloom said. “Y’don’t want to fall in…”
Serenade shot her a poisonous look. “I’m not gonna fall in,” she said. “I’m not a baby, you know.”
Apple Bloom bit her lower lip, then took a step back. Serenade snorted, then turned back to the river. She stared at the ribbon, still hanging off the end of the branch, then lit her horn.
Apple Bloom watched as the ribbon glowed faintly green. Serenade gave a little groan, but it didn’t move. Serenade glanced back over her shoulder, took a step closer to the water, and strained until a vein popped out on her neck—but still, the ribbon did not move.
Serenade snarled. Her horn glowed brighter, and she took another step forward.
Apple Bloom’s eyes widened. “Don’t—!”
* * *
“Nice and slow, Rainbow,” Flyby murmured.
Rainbow almost nodded, but she caught herself at the last second. She glanced at the egg balance on the end of her nose—so close she almost had to go cross-eyed—and scowled. She squinted past the egg, at the basket sitting on the table at the other end of the yard. All she had to do was make it over there without dropping the egg. Easy, right?
The egg wobbled dangerously on her snout. She glanced at it, watched it wibble a bit, then took another, hesitant step forward. She glanced at the basket. It was still so far away—hardly any closer than when she’d started—what, a half-hour ago?
As Rainbow stared at the basket, she felt a fire spark in the back of her brain. The egg began to tremble.
What was she even doing this for? She has joined because she wanted to race , not to carry eggs . And why did they have to walk all this distance? If they wanted to see them do something stupid as carrying eggs on their noses, they could have got their jollies in ten feet, not a thousand, couldn’t they? And why eggs? This damn thing had been in a chicken’s butt fifteen minutes ago, and now they wanted her to carry it in her face? What was wrong—?
And suddenly, Rainbow felt the gentle touch of feathers on her shoulder.
“Easy, Rainbow,” Flyby said, gently. “Easy.”
Rainbow’s eyes widened. She took a deep breath through her clenched teeth.
“Let it pass,” Flyby said. “It can only hurt you if you let it.”
Rainbow breathed out, then back in again.
“Save the anger,” Flyby said. “Save it for when you really need it. A blue ribbon and some jam isn’t worth it.”
Rainbow took another deep breath, then opened her eyes. She turned and shot a glance at Flyby, then took another careful, measured step. Flyby walked beside her, her wing draped over her shoulder, until they reached the egg basket.
* * *
Radiance charged around the corner, and almost shrieked in joy. There, up ahead, waved the checkered banner—they were almost there!
She glanced behind her to make sure Twilight was at her tail—and she snarled. Twilight was right behind her, yes—but just behind her was a pair of pegasi in goggles, and, just behind them was a pair of earth ponies wearing bandanas. She and Twilight had almost won, but they weren’t home yet.
Radiance kept running, and slowly, Twilight, legs pistoning in a lilac blur, pulled up alongside her. But Radiance’s breath was coming in sharp, ragged stabs, and she could feel herself slowing down.
That was all the opening the others needed. The sound of pounding hooves grew louder. On her left came the pegasi, and, on the right, the earth ponies. All six of them, somehow, miraculously, were pelting, neck-and-neck, towards the finish line.
Radiance snarled. She had done so much—and she wasn’t going to lose now, not after everything—
Radiance gritted her teeth and tried to force the last bit of strength she had into her limbs. The finish line was so close, and yet so far away—
—do it for Serenade—
And suddenly, a filly leapt onto the course, right in their path.
Before Radiance herself could even register the sight, her knees locked in place, and she skidded to a halt. Beside her, Twilight cried out in alarm. The others must have heard the cry, or perhaps seen the filly themselves, as they, too, forced themselves to stop.
After a moment of silent confusion, the orange earth pony stepped forward.
“Apple Bloom?” she asked the filly. “What in the hay are you doin’—?”
The filly gulped, and looked up at the pony with wild eyes. “In—the—river—!” she managed to gasp, in between breaths.
The orange one cocked her head, and the pink one stepped up beside her. “What’s in the river?”
The filly took another deep, rattling breath.
“S-S…” she stammered. “S-Sara—”
Radiance froze. Then, before anyone could say another word, she stepped forward.
“Serenade?” she barked. “Serenade fell in the river?”
Apple Bloom looked up at her, then just nodded. Around her, the other ponies gasped and cried—but Radiance zeroed in on the filly.
“Where?” she demanded. “Show me!”
The yellow pegasus looked at her sister. The blue one nodded, then stepped forward.
“Show all of us,” she said, picking the filly up around her middle. “And quick,” she added, flapping her wings.
Pinks was the first to break the treeline. She scanned the waters, then turned and started galloping downstream. This wasn’t the first time someone had ever fallen in, but the river was especially fast and deep this time of year—
And then she spotted her. There she was, splashing and gurgling as the river rushed onwards.
“Help!” she shrieked. “S-somebody!”
“Hold on, Serenade!” cried someone, from just behind her. Pinks would have turned to see who it was, but she was already sprinting down the riverbank, her brain going full speed.
Lasso? No, Jackie didn’t bring hers and we don’t have time.
Tree branch? Not long enough.
Balloon raft? Mentally, she groaned. C’mon, Pinks, now ain’t the time to be messin’ around—
And then she heard another sound. One that sent chills down her spine.
The sound of falling water.
Pinks skidded to a halt, mouth dry. She knew, without looking, that, two hundred yards ahead, the river went over a cliff, into a deep, cold pool. It was only thirty or forty feet, not a high fall by any means—she even went over it on purpose, when it got really hot, just to cool off—but the force of the water could pull weak swimmers under in no time flat. And especially if you were already struggling—
Pinks turned and watched Serenade sweep towards her, already losing the fight with the river. She glanced around, and saw the other ponies, chests heaving and sweat dripping off their foreheads, gathered around her, looking on helplessly.
And, suddenly, Pinks knew what she had to do.
She turned to the pony closest to her—the yellow pegasus sister. Seeing her turn, the pegasus turned to look at her.
Pinks opened her mouth.
“Catch me,” she said.
And then, she leapt.
* * *
Flyby’s shriek caught all of them off-guard, but most especially Rainbow. They all whipped their heads to look, and saw the pink pony making a graceful arc of a dive deep into the middle of the river. She bobbed to the surface, then started swimming towards the flailing unicorn.
Without warning, Flyby spread her wings and flew after her.
“Fly!” Rainbow cried. “What are you doing?”
Flyby dove, and managed to grab the pink one’s tail in her mouth, just as she grabbed the unicorn. Everyone cheered—but Rainbow’s gaze was still locked on her sister. Rainbow saw her wings dip—saw her falter—while everyone else was still getting ready to pat themselves on the back.
Without thinking, Rainbow leapt forward and spread her wings. She managed to wrap her arms around Flyby’s middle, just as she was about to sink under. But, all too soon, she could sense herself sinking towards the water, too.
* * *
Applejack swore. Now there were four ponies in need of rescue. If Pinks had just left well enough alone, they might have been able to fish the little one out of the river downstream, then rush her to the hospital—might have been able to save her, even—
But this wasn’t the time to think that way. Not while her sister and both confounded pegasi were still in danger.
Applejack threw her hat onto the riverbank, then ran downstream. All this foolishness had one advantage—with all these ponies making a chain, there might be enough of them to reach the sandbar on the next bend.
Applejack leapt into the water, then waded out until the rushing water was inches away from her belly. “Over here!” she cried, as the ponies swept into view.
By now, Pinks had the unicorn firmly in her grasp, but she’d managed to pull the yellow one almost all the way into the water with her. But the rainbow one was still keeping up, and she shot Applejack a grateful look. As they passed her, the rainbow one flicked her tail towards Applejack, who managed to catch it in her teeth. The rainbow one cried out, but Applejack held firm, and dug her hooves into the sand.
The river swept the ponies downstream, but, with a jerk, all of them came to a sudden stop. Pinks managed to hold onto the unicorn, the yellow one held onto Pinks, the rainbow one held the yellow one, and Applejack held the rainbow one’s tail. Now, all they needed was—
Applejack felt the sand under her hooves begin to slip. The river, heedless of their plight, was still pulling all of them onwards—and Applejack, strong as she was, was not as strong as the river.
Applejack cried aloud, then scrabbled backwards, sending up clouds of silt. But still, the river pulled her onwards—towards the falls that she could hear just around the bend—
And then, a warm tingly feeling spread across her chest. Applejack looked down, and saw glowing, purple light enveloping her middle.
* * *
Twilight groaned, sweat already running down her face, as she tried to haul the orange pony backwards against the stream. She turned to look at Radiance, who stared back with wide, frightened eyes.
“G-get Serenade,” Twilight hissed through gritted teeth.
Radiance turned to stare at her. Twilight could see the gears turning in her head—but still, she did nothing.
“Get Serenade!” Twilight cried. “O-or grab somepony! Do something!”
Radiance took a half-step backwards.
Twilight’s eyes widened.
“Don’t you dare—!” she began…
But, before she could finish the thought, Radiance turned and ran.
“Radi-i-i-iance!” Twilight screamed, anger, fear, and hopelessness in her cry. “You come back here—!”
From the river, Twilight heard a scream, and she felt her magic slip. She turned and gasped—the river had pulled the orange pony from her grasp, and now all five of them were about to go under.
Twilight turned and sprinted down the bank, trying to keep up with them. “Dammit, Radiance,” she snarled, tears running down her cheeks, “Damn you, damn you, damn you—”
* * *
As Pinks sunk underwater for the third time, she had to admit—perhaps she hadn’t thought this plan all the way through.
She kicked, and her head popped up above the water—and, more importantly, the little filly. She had both her arms and legs wrapped around Pinks. It was kinda cute, truth be told—but the extra weight made it hard to stay up, and it certainly wasn’t easy to swim with her clamping Pinks’s arms to her side. Especially with the waterfall coming up as fast as it was.
The sound of the waterfall grew louder in her ears. Pinks chuckled to herself. All things considered, if this was Her Time To Go, it was kinda neat that she was getting to do the whole “last great sacrifice” thing. Only—her smile faltered a little—she wished she didn’t have to drag anypony else along with her… Applejack least of all—
And then, something very strange happened.
Pinks hit something hard.
* * *
Twilight skidded to a halt, and stared.
Just ahead was the waterfall, its roar almost deafening, spraying water in graceful clouds. For a split-second, she caught herself scanning for ponies lost in the spray—
But, twenty feet short of the edge, all five ponies had bunched up together in a tight knot—some still struggling, some just confused, but none of them moving. The water flowed around them as if they were stones in the middle of the river.
And then, she saw it, almost invisible against the spray and the bright afternoon sun:
A bright-blue barrier, made of three flat, six-sided sections, standing vertical in the middle of the river. The water rushed on, but it held firm for the ponies pressed against it.
Twilight looked up and saw Radiance, just a few feet away, her horn burning bright, and a vein in her neck pulsing.
“Twilight,” she barked, in a tone that brooked no argument. “Grab someone, quick. I can’t keep this up forever.”
Twilight stayed frozen.
“Move!” Radiance roared.
Twilight jumped, then ran to the riverbank. She lit her horn, then wrapped her magic around the orange pony at the back—the only one not pinned down by another body.
“That’s it, Twilight,” Radiance called. “You can do it!”
As Twilight pulled the orange pony back towards the riverbank, Twilight turned to look at her sister, her horn still lit, her gaze steel, but a faint smile on her lips. And, despite herself, Twilight felt herself smiling, too.
“Miss,” said a voice.
Flyby looked up, into the face of the big, red stallion, and smiled.
“Big Mac, right?” she said.
He nodded. “Yes’m,” he said, through clenched teeth.
The eight of them were huddled in the living room of the Apple’s farmhouse. After fishing everypony out of the river, Granny Smith had insisted on pushing all seven of the sisters into the tiny Apple farmhouse. As the Apples scrounge up enough towels and blankets for each of the dripping-wet ponies, the town doctor had appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He checked them over, gave them a clean bill of health, ordered them to dry off and get something warm to drink, and to come by his office if any of them got the chills or a cough. Almost before the door swung shut behind him, Granny Smith had a pot of mulled cider on the old cast-iron stove. And Big Mac, who, apparently, was quite the gentlestallion, was now serving each of the still-damp fillies from a tray filled with mugs of warm cider he held in his teeth.
Flyby reached up and took two of the mugs.
“Thanks,” she said, passing one to Rainbow Dash who sat huddled with her in the blanket. Rainbow took the mug, nodded her own thanks, then took a long draw. When she had finished, she lowered the mug with a quiet moan of pleasure.
Big Mac gave a little nod to the two of them, making the mugs on his tray rattle, then turned and walked towards the next group of ponies—Twilight, Radiance, and Serenade, if Flyby remembered correctly. Both Rainbow and Flyby watched him go and offer them some cider, too. After a moment, Flyby gently elbowed Rainbow in the side, who turned and looked at her. Both sisters locked gazes for a moment, then giggled to themselves.
Flyby looked around the room and smiled happily. Thought it had only been an hour, tops, since all the excitement, everyone was starting to feel like an old friend already. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the cider, or maybe it was Pinks’s almost infectious glee—but things were different now. Both Flyby and Rainbow could feel it. And it made Flyby, at least, happier than she had been in a long, long time.
Radiance was next to take a mug from Big Mac. She lifted two from the tray and passed one to Serenade. She hesitated, stared at the other mug for a moment, then passed it wordlessly to Twilight, who looked up in surprise. Radiance grabbed a third mug from the tray, murmured a “Thank you” to Big Mac, and took a sip.
Serenade took a long drink, let out a little burp, then snuggled contentedly between her sisters. Though Serenade herself had been soaked, almost literally, to the bone, neither of her sisters had gotten particularly wet; even so, Granny Smith had ushered the three of them into the living room almost before they could protest. But, for some reason, she’d kept their parents away—”Run along now, th’ filly’s gotta get all warmed up, ain’t no good fussin’ at her like a bunch a’ old hens”—so, for better or worse, the room was full of just the sisters. And Big Mac, of course, but he was almost on his way out. Though, truth be told—Radiance shot a sidelong glance at Big Mac’s backside—she wouldn’t mind all that much if he stayed a little longer...
Radiance shook her head, then looked back down at her cup.
The three sisters drank in silence for a few moments, before Radiance cleared her throat.
“So,” she said, “I’ve heard that Stephanie Marchador is working on a new series.”
Twilight looked up, and Radiance grinned.
“Some rot about werewolves or something equally dreadful,” she said. “But I hear that the protagonist has some fun adventures…” her eyes twinkled. “And that she finds herself a very nice coltfriend, too.”
Twilight smiled a little, then chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me how it is,” she said.
“Actually…” Radiance said, reaching over and pulling Twilight a little closer, “I was thinking we could read it together.”
Between them, Serenade squawked indignantly. “You’re smushing me!” she cried.
Radiance and Twilight sprang apart, and both looked down. Serenade, her mane still matted and dripping, glared up at them.
After a split second, Radiance snorted, and all three of them burst into laughter at once. Radiance scooted closer to Serenade, and Twilight joined her.
After a few moments of quiet, Twilight looked up at Radiance and sighed. “You’re gonna make a good cop, someday,” she said.
Radiance looked down at her in surprise, but Twilight had already turned back to her cider. Radiance swallowed once or twice, then dabbed at her eyes.
“Thanks, Twiley,” she said simply. And Twilight smiled.
Applejack was halfway through her mug of cider when Pinks thumped her on the back. Applejack choked, then set down her cider, coughing.
“So,” Pinks said brightly, “How’d I do?”
Applejack coughed once or twice more, then glared at her little sister. Her mane was still wet, and hung straight and low around her face, but she had one of her signature grins plastered across her face. Applejack watched her for a second, then shook her head and sagged a little.
“You did a darn fool thing back there,” she said.
Pinks wilted just the slightest bit.
“But, at the same time,” Applejack continued, “it was pretty darn noble, too.”
Pinks hesitated, then grinned again, even wider. And, with the sort of timing that only Pinks could muster, one strand of her still-damp mane popped back up into its natural curl.
Applejack eyed her mane, then smiled. “Just warn somepony next time, will ya?” she asked.
“No promises, Big Sis,” said Pinks, beaming.
Applejack rolled her eyes, but leaned over and pulled her sister in for a hug.
“Love ya, Pinks,” Applejack murmured.
Pinks put her arms around Applejack and squeezed. Applejack grunted—felt like Pinks had almost cracked a rib with that grip of hers—but Pinks just buried her face in her sister’s coat.
“Love you, too,” she said.
For just a moment, Applejack thought she had started to cry—but, just before she could ask what was wrong, Pinks looked up, with a broad smile on her face.
Pinks peeled herself away from her sister, then looked around the room at all the ponies huddled together—and smiled. Her grin, almost literally, lit up the room.
“This has been so fun, gals!” she cried. “Y’all should come back next month!”
Radiance looked up, alarmed. “What’s next month?” she asked.
Pinks’s already-impossible smile somehow grew even wider.
“The Summer Sun Celebration, silly!” she said. “Gonna be a special one, too—s’posed to be the thousandth one ever!”
Applejack chuckled. “Pinks here has been asked to help plan it,” she said. “And, if y’ain’t never been to one of Pinks’s parties…” she let out a low whistle. “Y’all are gonna be in for a mighty fine time.”
Pinks blushed a little, but kept beaming.
Radiance looked down at Twilight and Serenade. Twilight smiled, then turned to Pinks. “Sounds fun,” she said. “Count us in.”
Pinks squealed and bounced in her seat. She turned to look at Flyby and Rainbow, and everyone followed her gaze.
Rainbow looked at Flyby, then nudged her in the side. “What do you say?” she said. “Haven’t been to the Celebration since it was in Cloudsdale…”
Flyby turned back to look at the room. Under the weight of their stares, she shrank a little—but she swallowed, and put on a wavering smile.
“Sure,” she said. “As long as all of us can meet up for lunch or something afterwards…”
Pinks squealed again, then leapt to her hooves. “Yee-haw!” she cried. “We’re gonna have the best Celebration this side a’ Canterlot! You just wait, I’ll show ya! There’s gonna be pie, an’ apple bobbin’, an’…”
As she prattled on, Radiance shook her head fondly. She stood, then walked over beside Applejack and sat. Applejack nodded a greeting, but turned back to watch Pinks, now gesturing wildly.
After a moment, Radiance cleared her throat. “Is she always like this?” she asked.
Applejack chuckled. “Mostly,” she admitted. “Sometimes she’s exhaustin’. But, even so, Celestia…” she shook her head. “Love her to death anyways.” She smiled. “She’s family. Ya gotta.”
Radiance smiled, then looked over to Twilight. Little Twiley was listening to Pinks with rapt attention, her eyes gleaming with the vision that Pinks was laying before her. Beside her sat Flyby and Rainbow, both leaning on each other. Each was only half-listening—but both knew that, after they got home, they could compare notes to make up for what they missed.
Radiance shook her head. “Yeah,” she said, with a little sniffle, “Yeah, you do.”
Big Mac pushed open the back door and sighed. He stepped out, carrying a garbage bag in his teeth, and made for the garbage cans out back of the old farmhouse. He pulled the lid off, dropped the bag inside with a hollow clang, and closed it again. He shot a surly look back at the house; though he couldn’t exactly fault his sisters for finding some new friends, he didn’t exactly see how that equated to him waiting on them like some high-falutin’ butler .
He turned and walked back towards the kitchen. He was just about to head back inside, when he noticed something odd: at the foot of the old apple tree in the back yard sat two colts—a white unicorn, and a bluish pegasus. Big Mac frowned, then trotted over to them.
“Can I help y’all?” he asked.
Both of them looked up. The unicorn brightened a little.
“Hey,” he said. “You’re an Apple, aren’t you?”
Big Mac stood up a little straighter. “Last I checked,” he said, a little edge creeping into his voice.
The unicorn nodded towards the farmhouse. “How are they?” he asked.
Big Mac narrowed his eyes. “What’s it to y’all?” he asked.
The unicorn straightened up. “Just that three of them are my sisters,” he said, haughtily.
The pegasus, sitting on the other side of the tree, looked up. “You, too?” he asked.
Both of them turned to look at him, and he stared dopily back. “My sisters are in there, too,” he said, with the slightest whine in his voice. “Mom said to wait for ‘em while she went to talk to the doctor.”
Big Mac glanced between the two colts for a moment, then sighed heavily, and sat. “Big Macintosh,” he said, holding out his hoof.
“Shining Armor,” said the unicorn as he shook it.
“Surfer Beach,” said the pegasus. He didn’t shake Big Mac’s hoof, instead, he just clicked his own hoof against it.
“So…” Big Mac began uncertainty. “Y’all’s sisters were wrapped up in that mess down at the river, too?”
Shining Armor nodded. “Mh-hm,” he said. “My little sis used a trick I showed her to keep them all from going over the falls.” He sighed. “She’s going to be insufferable for the next few weeks…”
“Yeah, well,” Surfer Beach said bitterly, “at least your sister didn’t start it. I mean, if Flyby was just a little stronger, then this wouldn’t have even happened—”
“My sister did start it,” Big Mac said. “She was the first one to jump in after that filly, instead a’ waitin’ for someone with a lick a’ sense to come along…”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Finally, Shining Armor looked up.
“Hey,” he said. “You guys ever up in Canterlot?”
“Not really,” Surfer said. “Why?”
Shining Armor shrugged. “I was thinking that, maybe, we could go out for a doughnut sometime,” he said. He quirked a little smile. “I mean, it seems like we all have something in common—even if it is the fact that our sisters seem to have a knack for getting into trouble…”
Big Mac nodded slowly. “I… think I could get away,” he said. “If I set it up ‘aforehand.”
Surfer shrugged. “Why not,” he said.
Shining Armor smiled. “Cool,” he said.
Big Mac opened his mouth to respond—
One of the windows slammed open, and all three jerked their heads up.
“Big Mac!” screeched Granny Smith. “Y’all get back on in here and—!” she trailed off into barely-comprehensible gibberish—but then again, he was learning to speak fluent gibberish.
Big Mac sighed, then climbed to his hooves. “Gotta go,” he said.
“Have fun,” Surfer said. “Then, at least one of us will…”
Big Mac turned back towards the house. As he walked, he felt himself start to smile.
After all, it had been a while since he’d made a real friend.
~The End~
