The Once and Future Queen

Chapters

Smokeless Fire
Business as Usual
Blue Flowers Five
A Heart Full of Song
Refrain
Perspective

Smokeless Fire

Dinky Hooves — or The Dink, as she preferred to style herself — rolled sidelong out of bed and stuck the landing on the floor with only a slight wobble. She yawned widely without covering her mouth, and then blearily pawed at her scattered belongings with her magic.

She watched her saddlebags in the mirror while she squinted and risked raising a hairbrush at the same time. Carefully, cautiously, she ran it through her blonde mane while sliding comic books, art supplies, her trusty notebook and a few other essentials into the bag. Nothing to it. Just-

“Shoot…!”

She blew an errant lock off her face and then magicked up the fallen bag to try again.

“C’mon, now,” she coaxed herself. “In the comics, Shadow Chaser can stick-fight with TWO Earth Pony thugs while ALSO copying out a secret document. You can do this!”

Her tongue peeked out between her lips as she strained to orient the bag backwards while resuming her combing. Looking over her shoulder would be cheating, of course.

Six tries later, The Dink headed out right on schedule to just barely make it to the earliest Cutie Mark Camp activities. This was crucial; super-cool mystery hunters were never late OR early. After carefully picking her way downstairs while softly humming a rolling, urgent backing beat for herself, she slid into the kitchen and put her back to hard cover against a wall.

“Mom! I need breakfast. There’s precious little time!”

The kitchen was unoccupied. The Dink frowned. She trotted over to the icebox and checked her mother’s work schedule on the door. Evening shift today. Mom must have gone to the market square. Oh well. The DInk opened the icebox to forage for any remaining provisions — no different from an early work day.

“...Huh.”

Mom wasn’t home, but the shelves were already packed with food.

The Dink sat staring until shivers from the icebox’s frigid air snapped her out of it.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“... Nope. Even cooler,” Ruby Pinch replied. She leaned closer, resting her front hooves on the side of The Dink’s archery stump. “The thing BLEW UP!”

The Dink slowly nodded and then let her suction-cup arrow drop, unfired. “Whoa. That’s a good one. So the engine boiler failed, or something?”

Pinch grinned like a cat with a cornered mouse. “That would make sense, right? But nuh-uh. Get this, Dink: it was the BACK that blew up!”

“Oooh.” The Dink raised an eyebrow. “Okay, that’s seriously weird. I think you got me this time.”

Pinch drew back, smiled, and offered a consoling wave. “Aww, don’t sweat it. Any other day that two-headed frog would totally be tops. I just happen to live closer to that side of town, is all. Word travels-”

“Hullo ladies,” Pipsqueak said as he trotted up to the pair. “What’s up?” As somepony not destined to become a death-defying delver into buried mysteries, Pip was slightly late to camp.

“Oh nothing much,” The Dink said airily. She glanced sidelong at Pinch and gave a subtle nod.

Pinch nodded back. “Yep,” she agreed. “No big deal. Just... A TRAIN EXPLOSION!”

The boisterous revelation knocked the tiny colt off his hooves. Pip stumbled to right himself, wide-eyed.

“What…? Really? Blimey! I hope nopony was hurt!”

“Nah,” Pinch replied. “If there’d been any injuries then EVERYPONY would know about it. I heard it was a cargo train, so hardly anypony was onboard. Plus, the back blew up, not the engine.”

“Cargo?” Pip asked. “What sort of cargo?”

The Dink’s golden eyes gleamed. She flashed a mischievous grin. “Good question!”

Pip took a cautious step back. “Oh bother, I know that look,” he said.

“What? What look?” The Dink smiled more innocently.

Pip frowned. “You’re planning to sneak out to have a peek at the site of the explosion, aren’t you?”

Before either Unicorn could answer, the buzz of tiny wings filled the air, and Scootaloo skidded her scooter to a halt in front of the group.

“Are you talking about doing something dangerous?” she asked. Her expression shifted from stern to coy. “...’Cause I am totally on board!”

“You’re fast, so you can do long-range reconnaissance,” The Dink said with a firm nod.

“Yeah, and check things out while you’re at it,” agreed Pinch.

“B-But, you said a train exploded!” Pip reared up and put his hooves on The Dink’s shoulders. “That’s not like jumping in a pond or climbing a tree, or pretending to be gobbled on Nightmare Night — there could be smoke! Fire! Dangerous wreckage! And who knows what else!”

“Whoa whoa, you can skip the pitch,” The Dink replied as she eased him back down onto all fours. “I’m already sold!”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle cantered up to the group, breathless.

“S-Scootaloo…!” Bloom panted. “Ya can’t just take off like that when we’re in the middle of a basket-weavin’ tutorial like that!”

Sweetie mournfully magicked up a tangled heap of wicker. “My example turned into a CAUTIONARY example!”

“Sorry girls,” Scootaloo said. “But I got a good feeling about this. These fillies-”

“And Pip!” The Dink noted.

“No!” Pip begged.

“...These fillies and Pip are feeling the need for action. They want to go see what’s up at the train station. What if there’s a daredevil or disaster rescue Cutie Mark just waiting to come out?”

Bloom frowned. “You just wanna check out the blown-up train.”

Scootaloo waved a chiding hoof. “Nuh-uh! I also wanna check out the blown-up train! That’s different!”

Sweetie heaved a sigh and tossed her ruined basket into a nearby tree. A sparrow immediately took a seat in it. “Well, baskets are a bust, anyway, and it’s been a long time since we did something exciting on a Cutie Mark crusade…”

Scootaloo stared at Apple Bloom with bright eyes and a broad grin.

Slowly, Bloom cracked a smile. “Awright, awright. The other Cutie Mark campers can manage on their own for a little while, I guess. If we miss out on somepony gettin’ their Mark, though, I’m gonna be real sore!”

“YES!” The Dink, Pinch, and Scootaloo said in unison. They all hoof pumped and then ran over to Sweetie and Bloom for a rousing shout of:

“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS, DISASTER INVESTIGATORS! YAY!”

“We’re doomed,” Pip muttered.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The fillies and Pip walked from the camp to the damaged train station on the outskirts of town without crossing through Ponyville proper. The country lane had no traffic at all; the way was clear and quiet and bathed in golden summer sunshine.

Scootaloo took the lead on her scooter, followed by The Dink and Pinch and then Sweetie and Bloom, with Pip struggling to keep up in the rear.

“I see it!” Scootaloo called out as she crested a hill. “Oh, wow! There’s fire everywhere!”

The rest of the group picked up the pace to join her on the rise and take in the sight.

“Whoa,” said The Dink.

The train sat bunched in a jackknifed jumble half-on and half-off the tracks. The heavy engine had gouged into the earth. The rearmost three cars had all been blown to smithereens, and wood and metal debris was scattered all around. The ruined cars and the largest chunks of wreckage still burned with flickering lilac flames. The front of the station building was studded with shrapnel, and every window was shattered.

“Those fires don’t look right,” Bloom said. “Colour’s funny. And where’s the smoke?”

“Something’s definitely weird,” Pinch said.

“Yeah,” agreed Sweetie.

“Blimey, what a sight!” Pip said. “I’ve never seen anything like it!” He made a show of turning on his hooves and nodding back the way they came. “So, now that we’ve seen it I suppose it’s back to camp for us, then, right chums?” When no answer came, he turned back and found that the fillies had all headed down the hill toward the wreckage. “Oh, bother.”

“What do you think?” Pinch asked as she cautiously nudged a metal plate bent concave by the blast.

The Dink was staring down at one of the pale flames, squinting in concentration. “Hmm. Seems like a textbook case of ghost-train collision.”

“A ghost train?” Pinch smirked in disdain. “At THIS time of year?”

“Have you got a better theory?” The Dink retorted.

“Weird fire means Dragon,” Pinch said. “I bet the train was carrying, like, a huge cake or something. Dragon-sized! And then a Dragon blew open the train with magical fire and snatched it up!” She swung her front hooves for emphasis. “Kaboom!”

The Dink nodded and rubbed her chin. “Solid theory. But wouldn’t the explosion have ruined the cake?”

Pinch’s triumphant grin wilted. “Shoot. That’s right.”

“Hay! Everypony!” Scootaloo called out. “C’mere, look!”

The fillies and Pip gathered around the little Pegasus, who stood near one of the larger chunks of burning debris.

“Okay, okay,” Scootaloo said. “Check. This. Out!” She thrust a hoof into the flames.

Sweetie squealed in shock. Bloom gasped. Pip cringed. The Dink and Pinch stared in fascination.

Scootaloo stirred the flickering lilac energy, harmlessly swirling and parting the stuff. “It’s not fire at all! It just feels warm. Kinda nice!”

The Dink stepped forward and ignited her horn. Her aura gripped the debris. Where it touched the blaze the flames turned the same bronze shade as her magic. “No way…!”

“That’s not possible,” Pinch whispered. She lit up her own horn and added flickers of green to the mix.

“I don’t get it,” Bloom piped up. “What’s up?”

“It’s magic!” Sweetie Belle replied. “Unicorn magic!”

Pip crept up to the occult blaze and touched a trembling hoof to it. When he failed to burn, he more calmly joined the others in poking and prodding at the wispy stuff.

“This is all like the sparkles and shimmers after letting off a big spell,” The Dink said. “Aftershocks.”

“But it’s been HOURS since the explosion,” Pinch said, “and this stuff’s not even close to fading out.”

Bloom stared down at the multicoloured lights. “What kind of Unicorn has magic strong enough to blow up a whole train and leave this stuff burnin’ for half a day?”

The Dink snuffed her horn. “Good question!” She trotted over to a shattered wooden crate half embedded in the soil. She pulled apart the splintered slats and peered inside. “Huh. Cans of veggies, heating oil, bundles of firewood…”

Scootaloo tilted her head slightly. “Somepony was going on a trip up north?”

The Dink shook her head. “It’s mostly used up. Somepony just got back from a trip up north.”

Pinch waved her front hooves through the flames one more time. “Wow. This is crazy. I don’t even know how they’re gonna clean this mess up!”

“How who will?” Pip asked.

“You know, the firefighters, rescue workers, the Wonderbolts — whoever!”

“That’s what I mean,” Pip said as he took a few strides back and turned in a slow circle. “Where are they? We’re the only ones around. There aren’t even any warning ribbons up.”

The Dink looked around as well. “Even better question.” She took a deep breath. “HELLO…? ANYPONY HERE?”

The echoes of her call faded without an answer.

“Okay, that’s not right,” said Pinch.

“Maybe they’re on break?” Scootaloo suggested.

“All of them?” Pinch replied.

Sweetie looked down the empty street. “Is there anypony around at ALL?”

Pip swallowed hard. “C-Can we please go back to the camp, now? I don’t like this at all!”

Apple Bloom watched the breeze swirl some stray leaves. She frowned. “Yeah, I think maybe we oughta.”

The group turned and headed back the way they came. Behind them, the flame’s mingled colours slowly faded back to purple-white.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“RUMBLE!” Scootaloo called out as she streaked along the lakeshore on her scooter. “KETTLE CORN! MOCHA BERRY!” When no answer came, she gritted her teeth and turned back toward dry land.

A cabin door swung wide and Sweetie Belle skidded into view. “Nopony here, either!”

The Dink and Pinch emerged from the lake wearing goggles and snorkels. They shook out their sodden manes and tails.

Pinch spit out her snorkel. “Lake’s clear,” she said.

Apple Bloom galloped over to them. “Woods are empty! Any luck ‘round here?”

Scootaloo, Pinch, Sweetie, and The Dink shook their heads.

Pip stepped out of the main hall. The rest of the group looked his way, but the hope in their eyes wilted along with his sagging, defeated pose.

“They’re all gone,” he said as he walked up to them. “All of them!”

“What’s happening?” Sweetie asked. “They were all right here when we left!”

The Dink gave a slow, sombre nod. “Situation’s pretty obvious.”

Pinch nodded as well. “Yup. Definitely.”

“What?” Bloom said. “What is it?”

The Dink pulled off her goggles and magicked up her saddlebags. “A monster. A really big one.”

“Just ran up and snatched everypony,” Pinch added. “Whoosh!” She whipped her front legs in a scooping gesture.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “That’s what you two said when we forgot about the field trip that one time!”

The Dink scoffed. “I said it was monsters that time. Now it’s just the one!”

“One really big one,” Pinch said.

“So if it’s a monster, how come it didn’t leave any tracks?” Scootaloo asked.

The Dink pensively tapped her chin. “Mm. Good point. Guess this one’s got wings.”

“A flying monster?” Pip whimpered. He crouched low and craned his neck to peer up at the open sky.

Bloom groaned in frustration. “Fer peat’s sake! There’s no flyin’ monster!”

“But everypony IS gone,” The Dink said. “If it’s not a monster, where are they all?”

A shrill whistle drew the foals’ attention. They all looked back toward town, where a small skyrocket streaked up into the sky and burst in a spray of white and blue sparkles.

“Back in town, looks like,” said Scootaloo.

The Dink stepped forward and fixed a firm and steely stare up at the fading airburst. “Okay team,” she growled, “let’s get to the bottom of this mystery!”

As the foals cantered back toward Ponyville, Pip asked: “Why are you talking all gravelly, like that?”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The streets of Ponyville were still and silent, even more so than the early days of Zecora’s trips into town.

“This is really creepy,” Sweetie said. She moved a little closer to her fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders.

The Dink nodded in agreement. Ahead, unlatched shutters clattered in the breeze. A public water-pump dripped into its trough. An unattended flyer for Quills and Sofas flew up against Sweetie’s side and made her start in shock. The Dink fetched a small, shoddy camera from her saddlebags and snapped a quick shot of the empty street. “So awesome…!”

“It’s the middle of the daytime,” Scootaloo said. “Ponies oughta be running the shops, doing errands, going on visits…”

Pip eyed the skies nervously.

“There’s no flyin’ monster!” Bloom repeated.

Everypony crouched and froze as another deafening whistle blew off and more fireworks speckled the sky.

“That way!” Pinch said. “Middle of town!”

The foals took off at a gallop, navigating the wide and vacant streets easily. The sounds of other foals’ voices began to carry on the breeze, and when the group turned a corner and came to the town square they finally found their fellow campers and classmates.

All of them.

Several dozen foals crowded the square in large groups, occupied with assorted activities. Some sat on small haystacks around low tables and gorged on ice cream. Some cheerfully chased a hoofball around. Others lounged in the sunshine and flipped through books. Still more splashed in a wide foal-sized wading pool and bobbed for apples in a nearby basin.

“S’cuse me!”

The voice from behind startled the group, and they scattered to let Prickle Berry pass. The Earth Pony filly was pulling a cart piled high with crushed ice and fresh tubs of ice cream.

Bloom shook her head to clear it. “Prickle, wait!” she called out. “What’s all this? What happened?”

“And where are all the grown-ups?” added Sweetie.

Prickle giggled. “Oh, you all musta missed the song! Bad luck! It was a really good one!”

“Song?” Pip raised an eyebrow. “Well, how did it go, then?”

Prickle rolled her eyes. “Sheesh! You know how it is! You can’t just explain a song — you kinda have to be there, you know?”

The foals shared looks of consternation.

Prickle nodded toward town hall. “I’m sure she’ll explain it all again if you ask.” Before anypony could ask any follow-up questions, the ice on the cart shifted slightly and Prickle tensed up. “Uh-oh! No time to dilly-dally! This ice cream needs eating, pronto!” She cantered off, pulling the cart toward the feast tables as though it weighed nothing at all.

“So,” The Dink said. “Town hall?”

The group moved as one toward the tallest building in town apart from Princess Twilight’s castle.

“I’m still thinkin’ monster,” Pinch said as they passed by the swimmers.

“Evil spirits, maybe,” The Dink replied, half to herself. “Or some kind of disappearing flu. Or– oop!” She stumbled on a loose rock. She glanced down and saw that the smooth grey stone was shaped roughly like a piece from a jigsaw puzzle. A good omen for mystery hunting if she’d ever seen one. She slipped the stone into her saddlebags and then hustled to catch up with the group.

“Wh-What if it’s another bugbear?” Pip worried aloud. “What if the whole town hall’s one big hive inside?”

“Then I guess we’ll have plenty of honey for makin’ candy,” Bloom replied with a smirk.

“You really don’t think there’s a freaky reason for all this?” Pinch asked. “I mean, I know our town’s pretty crazy, but come ON!”

Bloom sighed. “I just don’t think it’s helpin’ any to keep makin’ wild guesses. Whatever’s in the town hall, we’re gonna hafta deal with it, and it’d be smarter to get ready than to keep talkin’ about all the stuff it could or might or maybe-perhaps will be!”

“Good point,” The Dink said. “Battle stations, girls! I’m goin’ in!” The Dink galloped toward the main doors.

The girls and Pip scrambled in confusion and then formed a rough semicircle with stances low, ready to charge or bolt.

The Dink thundered up the front steps and skidded to a halt in front of the tall doors. She sat, drew back a front hoof, and then swung it forward hard — only to stop an inch from the painted wood and politely knock instead.

There were sounds of movement inside. The Dink hopped back a whole body-length with a firm “HYAH!”, but her back legs dropped off the top of the stairs and she staggered a bit before righting herself. “H-Hyah…” she repeated.

A moment later, the left door creaked open.

“Yes, my little Ponies?” a mare called out. “How can I help?”

A shadowed form emerged and slowly stepped out into the sunshine.

The Dink braced herself. She gritted her teeth, ready for anything.

Anything but what stepped out.

It was a Unicorn. Just a Unicorn. Soft-bodied and just a tiny bit short, bright-purple-eyed and grinning warmly, with a pale hide that contrasted nicely with her wavy deep-blue locks. Her Cutie Mark was a set of five blue flowers arranged to form an X.

“Uhh…” The Dink managed. She squinted and took a closer look, scouring the mare’s form for signs of demonic horns or fangs, of black veins of corruption or the glowing sickly green-black aura of tainted magic. Nothing.

The mare stepped closer and flashed a wider smile. “It’s all right, don’t be shy,” she said. “Whatever your trouble is, I can make it right.”

“She sounds like Miss Cheerilee…!” Sweetie whispered to Bloom.

The mare looked past The Dink and spotted the rest of the newcomers. “That goes for all of you — come on, come closer! Let me see your wonderful smiles!”

Pinch stepped closer. Scootaloo did likewise. Bloom and Sweetie followed her soon after. Pip brought up the rear, but his tension was slowly easing.

“Oh, such a lovely bunch you are!” the mare said. “You three with the matching Marks, you must be the ones running the day camp, is that right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bloom said. No reason to not be neighbourly, at least until a reason appeared.

“What a phenomenal idea!” The mare clapped her front hooves. “You’re welcome to keep up those activities, but don’t feel bound to only the camp. The whole town is yours, for whatever pastimes you please!”

“That’s very nice of you, ma’am,” Sweetie spoke up. “But, could you please tell us where-”

“There’s ice cream and cake aplenty, all fresh and ready,” the Unicorn cut her off. “And if the swimming pool gets crowded just let me know and I’ll expand it.” She gestured at the empty streets. “There’s all sorts of room to run and play, but mind you don’t stray out of town. Those woods are not safe.”

“That ice cream does look really good ...” Pip muttered.

The Dink met the mare’s wide, warm eyes. “Ma’am, before the ice cream, could you at least tell us who you are?”

The mare tittered like the tinkling of glass bells. “Oh, but of course! Where are my manners?” She leaned way down to face The Dink at her eye level. “You may call me Majesty.”

The rest of the group stared in mild confusion, but The Dink immediately flashed a wide smile. “Wow! Nice name! Okay, uh, Majesty, that takes care of everything. We’re just gonna go have some ice cream, now!”

Pinch frowned. “But what about-”

“RIGHT now,” The Dink snapped, and shot Pinch a withering glare.

“... Yay, ice cream!” Pinch cheered halfheartedly.

“That’s the spirit,” Majesty said. “You eat your fill, no need to be dainty. You’re growing foals, after all!”

Once the group had crowded around a vacant table piled with dripping scoops in several flavours, they leaned behind the unsteady tower to whisper unseen.

“Okay, what’s the deal?” Pinch asked. “We didn’t even ask her where everypony was!”

“Yeah!” Bloom added. “Everypony’s missing! I wanna know what’s goin’ on!”

The Dink didn’t answer, since her face was buried in the ice cream mound.

Sweetie frowned. “Seriously?”

The Dink drew back and swallowed. “We need to keep up appearances. And plus, Pip was right, it’s really good.”

One by one, the foals gave in to that logic and set about reducing the size of their cover a bit.

After the rich meal, The Dink licked her chops and seamlessly returned to business:

“Okay. She seems like a nice, normal mare. Right?”

The fillies and Pip nodded.

“Well, I don’t think a nice, normal mare made all the other grown-ups vanish. But there she is!”

The Dink peered past the remaining ice cream.

Majesty caught her eye and offered a grin and a wave.

The Dink turned back to the others. “Whatever’s going on, she’s probably in on it. Ancient magic, or weird science, or worse — who knows?”

Sweetie glanced at Majesty and then back at The Dink. “You’ve said that about literally every single new adult you’ve met. She seems nice!”

“She doesn’t exactly look like a dark wizard or a mad scientist,” Scootaloo noted. “More like… Missus Cake with a horn?”

“I’m fairly sure mad science is just made up,” Pip said.

Pinch smirked. “Oh, you sweet, innocent foal.”

“I’m two weeks older than you.”

Pinch waved him off. “ANYway, they’re right, Dink. At most, this mare’s probably just, like, a pawn of the monster.”

Bloom ran a hoof down her face. “Fer cryin’ out loud…!”

“Hay. Something’s up,” The Dink said. “We know that. And if all the other grown-ups really are gone, it’s something big. REALLY big. We need to be smart about this.”

“So what’s that mean?” Scootaloo asked. “What do you wanna do?”

The Dink dug her face into a patch of melting strawberry ripple and swallowed the mouthful in one gulp. “We eat ice cream. And we play hoofball. We swim. We do all of it. All over town. And everywhere we go ... ”

“ … We do reconnaissance!” Pip chimed in.

“Yeah,” The Dink said with a nod and a mischievous grin. “And check things out while we’re at it.”

To be Continued

Business as Usual

“Careful… thlowly…” Twist craned her neck to oversee the languid spill of the molten chocolate onto the cold stone countertop. She straightened her glasses when the angle made them slip. “Thpread it out real evenly.”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo walked backward on the kitchen counter with the metal bowl braced between them as they poured the stuff out in broad zigzags.

“Awethome!” Twist said with a grin. She hopped from her tall stool to the counter, picked up a spatula with her mouth, and then started smoothing out the chocolate.

The other two fillies put down the mostly empty bowl. Scootaloo dipped a hoof and sucked the chocolate off it while Bloom addressed their hostess.

“Okay, so, uh, we’re glad we could help out,” Bloom said, “but truth be told, we didn’t really come ‘round just to make desserts.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo as she continued to scrape the bowl. “Wow, this is delicious …”

Bloom shot her a sidelong glare and then spoke on. “Thing is, we’re a little outta the loop because we missed the song earlier. Could you maybe fill us in a bit?”

“Umm …” Twist put down the spatula. “Gosh, I dunno, girlth. I’m not very confident thinging tholo.”

“Oh, you don’t have to sing it!” Bloom waved away the idea. “Just maybe … summarize?”

“A thummary? Okay, I’ll try. Lethee…” She tapped her chin with a hoof. “Well, the grown-upth are all away, to learn about how to thtop making tho much trouble for everypony around here. And while they’re gone, Majethty will keep uth all thafe and thound while we have fun and eat thnackth and tho forth.” She cleared her throat. “Really, it made more thenthe ath a thong. You know how it ith.”

“Everypony really is gone? Even Big Macintosh and Applejack and Granny?” Bloom frowned. “Why didn’t they say anything about this?”

Twist frowned back. “I don’t know. The thong didn’t thay!”

“It’s okay, thanks anyway,” Scootaloo said as she scoured the bowl for more chocolate. “Did Majesty say when the grown-ups will be back?”

Twist shook her head. “I dunno. Maybe you could athk around?” She picked up a scraper and started shaving delicate decorative curls out of the cooled chocolate spread.

“Way ahead of you,” Bloom replied. She hopped down off the counter, and Scootaloo reluctantly followed.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Sweetie Belle and Pipsqueak had just crossed into the schoolyard when the bell rang. The noise was deafening in the silence of the empty town, and both yelped and stumbled in shock.

“What the…?” Sweetie tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.

Pip’s face lit up. “My stars! Do you think Miss Cheerilee is still here?”

Sweetie’s expression brightened just as much. The foals galloped for the doors and burst inside.

Half a dozen students turned in their desks to face the newcomers. At the head of the class, Silver Spoon frowned from her perch on a tall stool next to the teacher’s desk.

“Recess ended one minute ago,” Silver huffed. “If you must be tardy, the least you could do is not disrupt class with your arrival!” She gestured at the vacant side of the classroom. “Take your seats, please.”

Sweetie inhaled to object, but the weight of all those staring, disapproving eyes silently squeezed the breath from her lungs. She trotted over to her usual spot and took a seat. Pip sat down next to her.

“Now then,” Silver said as she adjusted her glasses, “shall we continue? We were on chapter two of geography, I believe. We can discuss the chapter after we finish the questions at the end, and then we’ll choose the meal for this evening’s extracurricular home-economics activity. The voting is down to spaghetti or mixed vegetable curry.”

The students all took out their workbooks and opened them to the day’s assignments. A moment later Silver climbed down and headed to her own desk to do likewise. The room fell into a smooth silence broken only by the rustle of papers and the scratch of pencils.

Sweetie sat waiting for a while. She glanced at Pip, who was vaguely hoofing at the geography book on his desk, uncertain whether to proceed. She furrowed her brows. “Silver, we-”

The students all shared a soft gasp and turned scandalized stares in Sweetie’s direction.

Silver cleared her throat. “Ponies who aren’t extremely rude and ill-mannered raise their hoof when they have something to say in class.”

Sweetie scowled for a long moment before swinging her right hoof skyward in a grand gesture, glaring at Silver all the while.

Silver calmly closed her book, got to her hooves, trotted over to the stool, and climbed back up. “Yes, Sweetie Belle?” she said. “Did you have a question?”

Sweetie made as if to speak, paused, and then sagged. When she did speak her voice was a glum mumble delivered with rolling eyes. “May Pip and I be excused, please?”

Pip gasped. “B-But Sweetie…! We haven’t even-”

“Ah-HEM!” Silver didn’t even try to make it a fake cough this time.

Pip fidgeted in his seat and waved a raised hoof urgently.

Silver ignored him. “And why, exactly, do you need to be excused?”

Sweetie narrowed her eyes. “We’ve learned everything we’re going to, here.”

Silver removed her glasses and gripped one arm between her teeth while carefully polishing the lenses with a small silk cloth. She put them back on, adjusted them, and took a slow, deep breath. “You’re excused.”

“C’mon, Pip,” Sweetie said. “Let’s find the others.”

Outside, Pip hustled to catch up with Sweetie’s frustrated stomping. “What’s going on?” he asked. “Why are they in school with no teacher around?”

Sweetie sighed. “When my sister is kinda upset, she makes a big scene. She messy-cries and wails and eats tons of ice cream. But when she’s SUPER upset, she bottles it up and does her work and acts like everything’s okay. It’s really obvious, it doesn’t fool anypony, but she does it anyway!”

Pip frowned. “I’m not sure I understand.”

“Those foals are upset and hiding it,” Sweetie said. “Just like Rarity. And if we push them, even a little, they’ll do what she does — explode.”

Pip trembled a little. “Goodness!” He trotted a little closer to Sweetie and lowered his voice. “Do you mean, ah, literally?”

Sweetie rolled her eyes. “Pretty much.”

“Oh, my …”

“Yeah. We wouldn’t have gotten anything out of them. With any luck, the others have found some foals who aren’t that out of touch with reality.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“Avast, ye scurvy landlubbers!”

“Uh, okay …” Ruby Pinch set down the paddle. The dinghy-shaped cart rolled to a halt three yards away from the scaled-down galleon sitting on wagon-wheels midway down Stirrup Street.

Dinky Hooves — or rather, The Dink — frowned up at the source of the shout. She cupped her front hooves around her mouth and called out: “Where did you even find that getup? Nightmare Night isn’t for two months!”

The Captain standing on the deck and looking down at them was silhouetted by the sun, but that did little to downplay the opulence of her attire. Rich velvet and brocade and polished brass and gold formed the base. A massive hat emblazoned with a white skull was decorated with both a large plume and a precariously balanced steel diadem on top. The Captain stepped up to the forecastle and out of the back-lighting.

“It’s called inventory, you dummy!” Diamond Tiara snapped. “You think seasonal stock just magically appears in shops every holiday?” She caught herself, scowling, and shook her head to banish the break in character. “Uh, as I was saying, these waters are the domain of Captain Diamond and her pirate crew! We’ll not be sharing our booty with the likes of you!” She let out a boisterous yah-hah-harr laugh, and several less fancy pirate foals popped up into view and joined in.

The Dink turned to Pinch. “I think you’re gonna have to take the lead on this one, Pinch,” she whispered. “Non-ghost pirates aren’t really my specialty.”

Pinch gave a firm nod and stepped forward. She cleared her throat. “Captain, we request parley!”

Diamond huffed. “Fine. Come aboard, but bring any treasure you’ve got with you!”

Pinch gave a salute and then took up the paddle to push the cart up against the galleon. A ladder of rope and planks unfolded down the hull, and the fillies climbed up.

The rest of the crew wore an assortment of accessories — bandanas, eyepatches, torn tunics, sashes, wooden toy swords, and false peg-legs. They gave the captain plenty of space, but eyed the newcomers warily.

“Speak your piece!” Diamond demanded. “You’re holding up our pirate-ing.” She gestured at a pair of colts carrying a basket of fresh carrots down into the cargo hold.

Pinch blew a stray lock out of her eyes. “Nice place you’ve got here. Did Majesty magic this up?”

Captain Diamond puffed out her chest. “That’s right. And I asked for the biggest street-ship in town, so if you want one it won’t be this nice. Not even close!”

Diamond and her crew indulged in a fresh round of yah-hah-harr-ing.

Pinch nodded. “Oh, yeah. It’s really great. Loads better than that cart we got from the park.”

The Captain beamed. She received praise like sponge cake soaking up syrup. “And don’t you forget it!”

Pinch swallowed hard to push back a pithy retort. “Uh-huh. So, anyway, we’re just stopping by ‘cause we missed the song earlier, and we’re trying to get up to speed on all this.”

“You missed the song!?” Diamond’s shock had pushed her voice up into her usual higher pitch. She cleared her throat and resumed her piratical growling. “I shouldn’t even be surprised. That’s just like you scurvy land-”

Pinch frowned. “Yeah, it’s true. We sure lub us some land. Now what we wanna know is, did Majesty say WHERE all the grown-ups are? Or when they’d be coming back?”

Diamond’s face took in the questions like a big bite of lemon. “Why? What’s your big hurry? Everypony’s overdue for a vacation — us and the grown-ups! Just like the song said! They’re fine, and they’re gonna learn to stop letting so much crazy stuff happen in town. They’ll all get nicer. Everything will be better! And in the meantime, we’re all free to have fun and eat ice cream and sail the open seas!”

The Dink stepped forward. “Look, Cap’n. Just spill it, okay? When is my mom coming home? TELL ME!” She gave Diamond a hoof-nudge for emphasis.

Even that light contact made the top-heavy filly stagger. She caught her toppling hat while she stumbled, but her tiara slipped off the top and bounced on the deck. Diamond lunged too late; the next bounce sent it sailing overboard.

The crewfoals all froze in terror.

Pinch ran a hoof down her face. “Oh yeesh, Dink. Yeesh.”

Seething fury consumed Diamond’s horror. She turned on the visitors and fixed them with a stare made of blue ice, sharply contrasting with the deepening red of her face.

“Y-You filthy BARNACLES!” she shrieked. “Seize them!”

The Dink and Pinch turned to flee, but a mass of mateys pounced and piled on top of them. In short order they were hobbled with ropes and hustled toward a thin board jutting off the deck.

“You’ll rue the day you crossed Captain Diamond!” The pirate gripped her wooden cutlass in her teeth and started prodding the two Unicorns off the plank.

“Hay, cut it out, Diamond! It was an accident! Ow! Quit it!” The Dink wriggled in her bonds and shuffled to stay upright as Diamond poked her over and over with the dull blade.

“Not good, Dink,” Pinch said grimly. “Looks like there’s only one way out of this one.”

The Dink sighed. “I’m just glad I don’t have any rare comics on me.” The next poke pushed her up alongside Pinch. Both of them teetered near the end of the board.

“It’s been a privilege,” Pinch said. The pair shared a silent nod, and then leaned and fell off the plank. An instant later a loud splash echoed off the shopfronts.

“Hmph!” Diamond sheathed her cutlass. “That’ll teach you!” She turned to her crew. “Hoist the mainsail! We’re plotting a course to the candy shop!”

The pirate foals scurried busily and soon the ship creaked and rolled its way down the street.

The Dink burst up in the public water trough and spit and sputtered for breath. Pinch appeared right after.

“That coulda gone better,” Pinch said as she clumsily squirmed out of the loose ropes, splashed her way out of the trough, and fell in a sodden heap on the dirt.

“I told you,” The Dink replied. “I’m better with ghost-pirates.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The ice cream in the town square was all gone save for a sticky sheen on the tables. Cake was the order of the day now, with towering tiers and layers casting shadows like the Manehattan skyline.

Scootaloo chomped on a slice of double-chocolate devil’s food cake. She hummed in bliss. “Wow,” she said after gulping it down. “It really is better when you make it yourself.”

“We BARELY helped,” Apple Bloom reminded her. The comment didn’t stop her from munching on her own piece of the cake, however.

Scootaloo shrugged. “Either way, we got nothing.”

Sweetie Belle nodded. “Same here. School was no help. What about you two?”

The Dink pulled her heavy wool blanket closer to arrest her shivers. She shook her head.

Bloom frowned. “This just doesn’t feel right. Somepony woulda told us. Applejack would never leave me alone without explainin’ things.”

“It’s quite unusual, definitely,” Pip said with a nod.

Sweetie frowned. “This wouldn’t be the first time the grown-ups in this town did something surprising. My sister’s ALWAYS freaking out about fashion stuff. Fluttershy’s so kind and nice, but she almost got the town eaten by those freaky bugs! Princess Twilight did that crazy magic with the stuffed toy. Even Applejack got kinda weird when she wasn’t sleeping for a few days.” She sighed. “I know it feels strange, but are … are we SURE something’s wrong?”

“Of course …!” The Dink said. “It’s gotta be something! A conspiracy! A front! As far as I’m concerned, nothing is ruled out — not even the flying monster!”

“Ugh! How many times do we hafta go over this?” Bloom groaned.

“The truth is out there!” The Dink pressed. “You’ll see! We could be in huge danger! All of us!” She waved broadly at the nearby foals.

As the sun slowly set, the young Ponies were settling down for more relaxed pastimes. Some played board games at the sticky tables, some drew with crayons, and others napped on pillows liberated from Davenport’s quill and sofa store. A filly yawned wide, and then snuggled up with a patchwork donkey toy.

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “Uh, all of this is weird, definitely. But we’ve seen some pretty freaky stuff. This barely measures up. I mean, Majesty IS pretty nice. Maybe Sweetie’s right? Maybe the grown-ups really are just on a friendship retreat?”

The Dink lowered her brows and her voice. “That’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

Pip shrank back. “Really, it’s terribly off-putting when you do that!”

“We can’t NOT take that chance, though!” Scootaloo countered. “Nopony knows anything, and we tried talking to Majesty already! If we ask any more, we’ll get nothing outta her.”

The Dink raised an eyebrow. “Oh? How do you figure?”

Scootaloo shrugged. “If she really is nice, or she’s like, a pawn or whatever, then she doesn’t know anything big. And if she’s more in on it than that, talking to her will get her suspicious and maybe even make her mad!”

The Dink gave an approving nod. “Atta girl.”

Scootaloo blushed faintly. “It’s nothing. I borrowed some Daring Do books from Rainbow Dash, and Daring’s always thinking ahead like that.”

“Oh, I love those books!” Pinch said. Her own blanket dropped as she eagerly perked up. “I always used to get them outta the old library, before it burned down. Did you read the latest book, yet? I hear it’s amazing!”

Bloom cleared her throat. “We’re gettin’ off track.”

Pinch smiled sheepishly. “Woops. Sorry!” She firmed up her expression. “I dunno if we’re gonna make any more progress today, though. We can look around again in the morning. If something’s wrong, clues have gotta come up.”

“IF?” The Dink snapped. “Et tu, Pinchy? How could you?”

Pinch leaned to stare The Dink down. “Shadow Chaser says never let yourself get ahead of the evidence. The truth is never clear until-”

The Dink sighed. “... Until the last piece of the puzzle is in place. I know.” She huffed. “I lent you those comics, you jerk.”

Pinch pulled her into a hug. “I miss my mom, too, Dink. I’m not ruling anything out, either. But that includes exactly what Majesty and the other foals said.” She drew back and turned to face the others as well. “There’s still the train explosion. Even if the grown-ups ARE on a retreat, that’s not normal. So, we’ll keep it up. Follow the evidence — wherever it takes us. Together?” She thrust out a hoof.

The Dink smiled and put in her hoof as well. “Together.”

Scootaloo joined in. “Together.”

Apple Bloom and Sweetie nodded silently as they did likewise.

Pip sighed. “Oh, very well.” He put in his hoof as well.

The foals raised their hooves in unison and then clacked them against the tabletop in solidarity.

“Right,” said Bloom. “Guess I’ve got some farm chores comin’ in the morning, and we’re ALL gonna have some big empty homes … so, how ‘bout we camp at the CMC clubhouse tonight?”

The other two Crusaders agreed readily.

“Finally,” said The Dink. “A headquarters!”

“A secret base!” added Pinch.

“Have you got enough pillows and blankets and such for six Ponies...?” Pip asked.

Bloom’s eager smile faded a bit. “Oh. Uh, right. New plan: everypony bounce home and grab some bedding, and THEN we camp at the clubhouse!”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Sweetie Belle’s shadow stretched out ahead of her as she trotted back toward her empty home to fetch her pillow and quilt. With the day’s festivities winding down, the streets were once again utterly silent. She heard every crunch of gravel under her hooves as she moved.

The wind stirred, and a broad shadow flickered across the street ahead. Sweetie paused.

“H-Hello…?” She looked over her shoulder. The street was still vacant. She swallowed hard and then walked on.

She didn’t make it more than ten strides before the shadow returned and a grey mass swooped down on her from above. Flapping wings stirred the street dust, and scaly talons seized her tightly.

Sweetie screamed and flailed. “Help! Monster! Flying monster!” She batted with her hooves and struggled to recall the mental rites to call forth a zapping spell.

The creature landed and reared up on its hind legs. It held Sweetie at arm’s length and cringed away from her frantic swings and glowing horn.

“Hey…! Cut it out, Sweetie Belle! It’s just me! Relax!”

Sweetie snuffed her horn and squinted through tears at her captor. “...Gabby?”

The grey Griffon set Sweetie down and gently smoothed her mussed mane. “Sorry I scared you. Last time you got a surprise hug you were a lot more okay with it!” She chuckled awkwardly. “It’s just been a while, and I had another letter from Gilda to deliver to Rainbow Dash, so I figured I’d stop by and check in on my fellow Crusaders!” She stiffened and gave a sharp salute.

Sweetie sniffled and wiped her eyes. “It’s okay. It’s just been a really weird day, is all. All the grown-ups are, um, kinda missing.”

Gabby frowned. “Missing?”

“Or maybe on vacation. We’re not sure. But they’re all gone for now. Well, almost all of them, anyway. There’s still Majesty.”

The Griffon tilted her head. “I don’t think I’ve met her, before.”

“We hadn’t, either. I think she might be from another city. Canterlot, maybe.” Sweetie nodded for her to follow as she resumed the walk home. “She’s nice. A train blew up, and some of the foals are acting strange, and The Dink says something’s off, but Majesty seems pretty —”

The Unicorn in question called from around a corner up ahead: “Bedtime, my little colts and fillies! Bedtime! Time to find a spot to snuggle up in and have a nice rest and some lovely dreams!”

Sweetie shrugged. “See? Still wish we’d been there for the song, though. Stuff always makes more sense when you sing about it.”

Majesty came into view up ahead, crossing their path sidelong. She turned to face them both. Her smile faltered slightly. “Oh, Sweetie Belle, was it? I heard you shouting earlier. Would you like to come talk about it?”

Before Sweetie could answer, Gabby was grabbing her all over again — this time to shove her back as she leaped to interpose herself. “NO!” Her wings spread wide and her plumage flared. Her chest heaved with her breaths and her pupils were pinpricks.

“Gabby…?” Sweetie reached out a hoof. “What are you doing?”

Gabby trembled as she gulped down a whimper. “It’s… i-it’s her, Sweetie Belle. It’s her! She’s real!”

“I’d very much like a moment of your time, Sweetie,” Majesty asked again. “If you’re … too sleepy to make the walk, would you like me to come fetch you?”

Gabby’s tail lashed the air behind her. Her claws dug into the dirt. “N-Never! You hear me? She’s my friend! I WON’T LET YOU TAKE HER!” She was shaking all over.

Sweetie pushed at the Griffon’s feline flank. “Gabby, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out!”

Gabby finally took her eyes off the mare and focused on her friend. “It’s HER, Sweetie Belle! Prey-That-Hunts! Pale Death! Blue Flowers Five!” She looked back at the plump, pleasant Unicorn. Her feathers ruffled. “She’s real!”

“Oh, my. What a racket! Is that creature upsetting you, little one? Don’t you fret. I’m here.” Majesty’s tone remained as warm and soothing as a freshly sun-dried blanket, but her eyes followed every move the Griffon made.

Sweetie looked over at Majesty. “What...? Pale … Gabby, what are you talking about?”

Majesty took a step forward. Gabby clenched her beak and then lunged to pick Sweetie up. “I’m sorry!” she cried. “Just run! Save yourself! I’ll hold her off!” She turned, reared, and hurled Sweetie at an open window down the street.

Drapes billowed as Sweetie sailed into the window and landed on an unmade bed. A hawk-like shriek echoed in the evening air, followed by impacts, grunting, thrashing, and then a deafening crash of cracking wood and breaking glass.

Sweetie got her bearings and then leaped off the bed and scampered back to the window. She leaned out. “Gabby! Gabby, are you okay?”

Gabby sat alone, hunched and panting to catch her breath. Behind her, the frontage of a house was smashed into a yawning, ragged hole. She looked up and gave a shaky wave.

“Sweetie! I think she’s out cold! I made it! I really really made it! I’m okay!” She slapped her talons over her beak and stifled a sob of relief. “Pinfeathers, I was so scared!”

“Wait right there! I’m coming down!” Sweetie turned and galloped down unfamiliar stairs in search of the front door.

Gabby spread her wings. “Don’t bother, I’m coming to you! We —”

As Sweetie raced out into the street, a purple-white flash brighter than the sun at noon blinded her. She cried out, stumbled and fell.

When she sat up and rubbed the dust and tears out of her stinging eyes, the first thing Sweetie saw was Gabby, with her wings spread in triumph, her face a mask of relief and exhaustion … and all of her, head to tail, nothing but grey, solid, lifeless stone.

Sweetie Belle’s jaw dropped in silent horror.

Majesty staggered out of the ruined building, magicking aside debris into tidy piles and carefully wiping up a drop of blood from a tiny scratch on her forehead.

“Don’t be scared, my little Pony,” she crooned. “You’re safe now.”

To be Continued

Blue Flowers Five

“Don’t be scared, my little Pony,” Majesty crooned. “You’re safe now.”

Sweetie Belle stared wide-eyed at the statue that had once been Gabriella the Griffon. Faint flickers of lilac spell-fire clung to the stone, slowly fading into the setting sunlight. Tears slid down Sweetie’s flushed cheeks. When she tried to speak, nothing came out but a jumble of half-strangled noises.

Majesty stepped forward and stroked Sweetie’s mane with her magic — the same magic that had petrified her friend. “Awww, you poor thing! You’re shaking like a leaf!” She pulled the filly into a hug and gently rubbed her back with a hoof. “There, there. Dry those tears. The flying monster can never hurt you, now.” She looked over at the statue. “Is what’s left still frightening you? I can smash it to gravel quick as a wink!”

Sweetie stiffened in Majesty’s grasp. Panic finally forced words past the lump in her throat. “N-NO! No, please!” She wriggled to get free. “Please, don’t!”

“But why not?” Majesty asked with a quizzical tilt of her head. “I can see it’s got you terribly upset!” She ignited her horn and magicked up the solid stone like it was nothing. “Really, it’s no bother!”

Sweetie couldn’t watch. She squeezed her eyes shut and strained to think. “You can’t break it! Be … Because, you … I …” She swallowed hard. “I … I LIKE IT!”

Majesty raised an eyebrow. “You do?”

Sweetie nodded hard. Sweat beaded on her forehead. “It’s good that you kept me safe! I wanna keep it! As a … a memento!” She forced herself to look up into Majesty’s warm, wide, purple eyes. “Please, don’t break it!” She sniffled. “I’m fine! I’m just r-really happy! Honest!” Her stomach clenched as she forced a wide smile. “Thank you so much!”

The mare was silent for a moment, and then offered a cheerful smile of her own. “What a polite little filly you are! You’re very welcome!” She patted Sweetie’s head with her magic. “Why don’t you show me the way to your house, and I’ll put this little keepsake in your yard for you?”

Sweetie nodded and turned away. As soon as her back faced Majesty, her strained cheer crumbled into a distant stare and a slackened, hollow frown. Her hooves carried her back to her house on their own.

“Such a lovely home you have!” Majesty strode into the yard and firmly planted Gabby’s statue in an open space. “There we are. Now, you just forget your troubles and sleep soundly, my little Pony. I’ll keep you safe, come what may. I promise.” She opened the front door for Sweetie.

Sweetie said nothing. Her hooves kept moving, carrying her inside. She heard the door close behind her.

Home was dark. No lights on. She made her way through the gloom with the ease of familiarity. Mom and Dad weren’t in the hall or the living room. They weren’t in the den or the dining room or the kitchen. Just their echoes. A book of sports statistics, lying open on the floor in the den. A hat hanging on a coat rack. A spoiled bowl of unused flapjack batter in the kitchen.

She pulled a fancy, wispy scarf off the back of a kitchen chair. It still smelled of Mom. Sweetie didn’t remember crying, but nuzzling against it left it wet with her tears. She let it fall, and then plodded up the stairs and headed to her room.

Everything was as she’d left it. No laundry done, no sheets straightened, no toys or schoolbooks put away.

She went to her window and magicked it open, and then peered out. Down below, Gabby was her own tombstone. The memories of the past half-hour welled up inside Sweetie and spilled out as fresh tears. She choked up and found her hind legs unable to support her. Her horn scratched the heart-print wallpaper as she sat down heavily and pressed her brow to the wall.

The empty room was smothering. She squeaked as she struggled to breathe. She turned away from the window and staggered to her bed. She scrambled up onto the rumpled sheets.

Sweetie stumbled forward and fell with her face buried in her pillow. She shuddered, her shoulders heaved, and then she screamed and sobbed until her shrill voice cracked and failed her.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Apple Bloom carefully fluffed her plump pillow and put it at the opening of her sleeping bag. “Where’s Sweetie? She shoulda been here by now.”

“I dunno,” said Scootaloo. “Did anypony see her on the way back here?”

Ruby Pinch, Dinky Hooves and Pipsqueak all shook their heads.

Pip squinted at Dinky’s bright blue bedroll. “I say, Dinky, I think you’ve got that thing inside-out!”

“N-No I don’t!” she protested. She looked around furtively while she made sure that none of the sleeping bag’s repeating pattern of smiley-faced choo-choo trains was visible. “Also, it’s The Dink.”

“Ah, my mistake.”

Meanwhile, Pinch had already unrolled a worn and patched sleeping bag. She glanced out the clubhouse window. Her eyes widened. “Everypony! She’s here!” She frowned in worry. “I think she’s hurt!”

The group crowded out onto the deck as Sweetie Belle arrived.

She was walking with a heavy-hoofed, stumbling gait, and her reddened, dark-circled eyes stared emptily at the dirt road ahead of her. Her mane was mussed, her white hide was dusty, and her horn sputtered and flickered in distraction as she intermittently tugged a toy wagon heaped with bedding by magicking the handle.

“Sweetie Belle!” Bloom galloped down to face her. “What in tarnation happened to you? Are you okay?”

The little Unicorn only seemed to notice the group then. She met Bloom’s eyes. “Uh-uh. I’m n-not. I’m not okay. I’m not…” Her bottom lip quivered.

The others came down as well, surrounding her in a semicircle.

“Are you hurt?” Pip asked. “I brought a first-aid kit from home, just in case!”

“I dunno if this is the first-aid kind of hurt,” The Dink said gravely.

Pinch stepped forward and gently but firmly put her front hooves to Sweetie’s shoulders. “Hay. Sweetie, hay. Listen. You’re safe with us, okay? You’re safe. Just tell us what happened. Was it the monster? Did you see it?”

Bloom scowled. “Seriously? Again with this—” Before she could continue, Sweetie cut her off.

“Yes.” She gave a shaky nod. “I saw her. I saw the m-monster.”

Most of the group gasped in shock. Pinch and The Dink gasped in triumph. But all of them soon wore expressions of concern.

Pinch rubbed Sweetie’s shoulders. “What is it, Sweetie? What took our families? Is Majesty working for it?”

At the sound of that name, Sweetie trembled and let out a choked whimper. Fresh tears welled up in her stinging eyes. “She … M-Majesty IS the monster!” She buried her face in her hooves and sobbed. When she found spare breaths to speak, she softly squeaked: “Gabby! Gabby, it’s all my fault!”

“Wait, Gabby Griffon’s here?” Apple Bloom checked the skies. “She didn’t disappear?”

Scootaloo’s brows furrowed. “Where is she, Sweetie? Did she get hurt?”

Sweetie threw herself against Pinch and wept and whispered into her shoulder. Pinch stroked her back a little, but then her eyes went wide. “She says Majesty turned Gabby to stone.”

The foals sat in stunned silence for an endless moment. Somewhere nearby, a night bird called to its fellows.

“No …” Scootaloo sniffled. “Why? She’s so nice!”

Bloom sat down heavily. She covered her mouth with a hoof.

The Dink scowled. “Majesty. Rrrgh, I knew it! I KNEW that smarmy niceness was fake all along!” She stomped bitterly.

Sweetie drew back. “No! It wasn’t!” She swallowed hard. “She s-stayed the same. She didn’t turn into something else, or use dark magic, or anything! She was just like she was before. She didn’t even get MAD! She smiled after she did it. She SMILED! And she hugged me and I was so scared, so I … I … I thanked her!” Sweetie fell into haunted silence, staring at nothing. Her face was ashen.

Pinch stiffened. “She’s going into shock. We gotta get her inside. Calm her down. Keep her warm.”

Pip frowned in worry. “Oh, my! Is it serious?” He raised an eyebrow. “How do you know so much ab—”

The Dink pressed in close by his side. “Drop it.”

The foals crowded around Sweetie and helped get her and her bedding inside. Bloom and Scootaloo laid out her bedroll and wrapped her up in her blanket, while Pip lingered outside and set about lighting a campfire and making some hot tea. Pinch and the Dink stayed in one corner and half-heartedly talked about the ramifications of what they’d been told, but there was no glee in the debate. Not this time.

Sweetie rocked to and fro with the blanket draped over her like a hooded cloak. “Gabby warned me,” she whispered after a few minutes of silence. “She knew. She knew about her. Like she was the H-Headless Horse or something.” She pulled the blanket taut around herself. “It’s all my fault. Gabby surprised me. I got scared. I thought she was the monster. Majesty wouldn’t h-have … if I didn’t …”

Bloom nuzzled her shoulder. “Ya can’t think like that,” she said softly. “Wishes that things’d gone differently will fill you to the brim if you let ‘em, until there’s no room for anything else. And they don’t help your hurtin’ one bit, believe me.”

“Majesty’s the monster, you said it,” added Scootaloo. “She turned—” The words wouldn’t come out. “... She did this. Not you.” She wiped her eyes with a foreleg. “Besides, maybe we could … fix Gabby?”

Pip sighed morosely from the doorway. “I’m not sure that’s so, sadly. That sounds like some VERY strong magic. Grown-up magic.” He walked up with a cup of tea with honey carefully balanced on a saucer on his head, and bent to offer it to Sweetie.

Sweetie took the steaming cup; she offered a vague bend of her mouth, like she’d forgotten exactly how smiling was done.

Pinch and The Dink approached with no sudden moves. The Dink spoke in an uncharacteristically soft and gentle tone.

“Sweetie, you said your Griffon friend knew Majesty as a monster? Are you sure? I’ve read up on all sorts of scary stories, even from Griffons, and I never saw that name.”

“She didn’t call her Majesty,” Sweetie said. “But she knew her as soon as she saw her. She had these other things. Like … nicknames for her. Scary ones.”

The Dink’s eyebrows raised. She took a step forward. “Do you remember any? It’d help a lot!”

Sweetie shrank back, half hidden behind her teacup.

Pinch put a hoof to The Dink’s side. “Not tonight, okay?”

The Dink sighed. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry, Sweetie. You just try and rest, okay? We’ll get to the bottom of this tomorrow. She’s not getting away with this. I promise.”

Nopony else spoke while Sweetie finished her tea, and soon the foals settled down for a fitful and troubled sleep.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Dawn broke as always the next morning, and Apple Bloom was up for it. She was usually the early riser among her friends, but she found The Dink already awake and pensively staring out the window.

“Sun’s up,” said The Dink. She didn’t turn.

“Uh, reckon it is,” Bloom replied.

“Think about it. That means Princess Celestia is still around to raise it. Or at least enough grown-ups to raise it like they used to in the olden days.” She finally turned and dropped down to face Bloom. “And THAT means —”

Bloom’s eyes widened. “That means there are adult Pony folk outside o’ Ponyville!” She raced to the window and looked out at the distant peaks of Canterlot Mountain. “We could go an’ get help!”

“Nope,” The Dink said with a shake of her head. “How would we do that? Walk? Anywhere we headed to, it’d take WEEKS! No hot-air balloon pilots and no coach pullers to carry us, and no Pegasus Express to carry a letter. And even if any of us foals knew how to work a locomotive, the only one here’s wrecked.” She glanced up at the capital as well. “They might as well be on the Moon.”

Bloom’s frown pulled her body down into a gloomy sag. “Shewt. You’re right.” After a pause, she added: “But … somepony’s BOUND ta come along eventually, right?”

“Somepony like your Griffon friend?” The comment made Bloom’s eyes tighten. The Dink winced. “... Sorry. But that’s a bust, too, obviously. Anypony who showed up would have no clue what’s going on, and Majesty could … you know … if they tried to meddle.” The Dink rubbed her eyes and fought down a yawn. “S’no good.”

Bloom moved to brush aside a mussed lock to get a better look at The Dink’s sunken, dark-circled eyes. “Dink, did you stay up all night tryin’ to figure this out?”

“Maybe.” The filly turned away and propped herself up on the window again. “There’s always a way,” she said. “Sometimes you just can’t see it at first.”

Bloom nodded. “That another bit from Shadow Chaser?”

The Dink chuckled. “Nah. That’s from my mo—” A grey gleam caught her eye. She leaned out farther and looked down at a pale rock that stood out among the dull brown pebbles and earth surrounding the clubhouse. The little thing had a familiar shape.

Scootaloo grimaced and groaned in protest of the noise as The Dink galloped close by her on the way out of the clubhouse. The Unicorn snagged her saddlebags without stopping and then raced around the side of the building. On the way, she lit her horn to magic up the stone and opened her bags to bring out the one she’d found the other day.

Both stones were about the same size and colour, and while both looked like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, they were slightly different shapes.

Bloom and Scootaloo were at the window and staring down at her, now. “What’re those?” Scootaloo asked. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Not sure.” The Dink narrowed her eyes at the floating stones. “The truth is never clear until the last piece of the puzzle is in place.” She stuffed the things into her bag. “That is from Shadow Chaser.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Once the foals were all awake, the group teamed up to help Bloom finish the farm chores that couldn’t be put off. Sweetie opted to join in despite her lingering unease, and by the time the work at Sweet Apple Acres was done the exercise had purged some of the emptiness from her eyes.

After a breakfast of apples served several ways, they all took Stirrup Street back into town.

“If Majesty’s the one behind all this, we need to figure out what she’s planning,” The Dink mused. “We gotta find out more, and we gotta do it low-key. Subtle.”

“Does that mean we don’t have to keep bothering the other foals with questions?” Pip asked with a not entirely successful attempt to conceal his hopeful tone.

“We’re done with that angle,” Pinch said with a nod. “Now it’s time for research.”

“Oh, jolly good!” Pip chirped. “Some nice, safe books. That sounds simply smashing!”

“Mm-hmm,” The Dink said. “Once we infiltrate Princess Twilight’s castle undetected, it’ll be nice and easy.”

Pip tripped over his own hooves for a moment, and had to scramble to catch up. “H-How’s that, now?”

“Shewt, they’re right,” said Bloom. “We can’t just trot on in all obvious-like and start diggin’ for dirt on that mare. She’ll be onto us lickety split. She can’t know what we’re up to.”

“Bingo,” said Pinch. “We’re gonna have to split up. One team does the research, and the other creates a diversion.”

Up ahead, the town square was already crowded with foals putting the sunshine and lack of supervision to good use. Some dived into the now expanded wading pool, some raced scooters, some doodled with crayons or paint, and others ate doughnuts and drank milkshakes or read from stacks of comics liberated from the book shop.

“Whoa,” said Scootaloo. Her tiny wings fluttered. “I … I volunteer to lead the diversion team! If there’s one thing Cutie Mark Crusaders can do, it’s get noticed!”

“It’s true,” Bloom admitted. “We’ve got a knack. We end up right in the middle of everythin’ we get mixed up in.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said The Dink. “I’ll take Pinch and Sweetie and sneak into the castle. Scoots, you take Bloom and Pip and keep Majesty busy.”

Pip stared wide-eyed. “What? ME?”

“No choice,” Pinch said. “Even after the library burned, I bet the Princess has built up a BIG book collection. Me and Dink will know what to look for. And Sweetie’s got details we need. Plus, she’s been through enough for now, doncha think?”

Sweetie looked away sheepishly and fidgeted. Pip heaved a deep sigh. “Very well, then. I suppose I can’t argue with that.”

“Atta boy!” The Dink said. She emphasized the sentiment with a chuck to his shoulder. “You’ll do fine — you’re a natural for this! Your weird coat and foreign accent really attract attention!” She softly cleared her throat. “... No offense.”

Pip frowned. “None taken…?”

“Okay, everypony,” said Pinch, “we’ve got our missions. Let’s—”

Pip cut her off. “Wait, let me. I might as well start things off right.” He cleared his throat and then pushed his thin, reedy voice as deep as it could go: “Let’s do this!”

The foals shared a resolute nod and parted ways — Scootaloo led the charge with Bloom and Pip toward the busy town square, while The Dink, Pinch and Sweetie turned and scurried for the gleaming spires of the crystal castle of the Princess of Friendship.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Sweetie craned her neck to stare up at the tallest structure in town. “This might take a while.”

“Just be grateful nopony’s decided to go skating in the halls, or something,” Pinch said. “Looks like the coast is clear.”

The Dink hissed for silence as she carefully eased a tall door open and slipped into the glassy shadows. The other two followed.

The dim interior was as silent as a tomb; their soft steps echoed, even on rugs.

“Any idea where Princess Twilight keeps her books now?” The Dink asked. When the others shook their heads no, The Dink frowned and then set about opening every single door and peering into every archway they came across. She found a linen closet, a pantry, the kitchen, and a cozy den, all silent and still and devoid of books.

When The Dink opened the seventh door, a sudden burst of hoarse, panicked screams and frantic action shattered the castle’s peace and caught her flat-hoofed.

“AAAGH! NO! GET AWAY!”

The Dink stumbled back and fell into a defensive cringe against a bruising storm of pots, pans, bowls, and other kitchen supplies from the storage closet. “Ow! Hay! OW! Quit it!”

Pinch and Sweetie dived out of the line of fire on either side of the door, but the cries from the room soon caught Sweetie’s notice. “Spike…? Is that you?”

The onslaught ended after one last thrown colander. “Sweetie Belle?” The purple Dragon toddler coughed dryly and then meekly stepped into view in the doorway. “Is Rarity with you?” When Sweetie shook her head, he sagged and sighed. His slit-pupiled eyes were sunken like The Dink’s, and dust and scuffs marked his scales. He wrung his tail nervously with both hands.

“I’m fine, by the way,” The Dink muttered as she gingerly prodded at a bruise on her shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry about that,” Spike chuckled anxiously. “I kinda panicked when you showed up — I’ve been hiding in here since yesterday!”

Pinch raised an eyebrow. “Hiding … from Majesty?”

“Is that her name?” Spike shrugged. “All I know is, she’s the scariest Pony I’ve ever seen — even scarier than King Sombra! It’s embarrassing, but as soon as she cast that spell on me, I ran as fast as my claws could carry me!” He trembled at the memory.

“Spell?” asked The Dink. “What spell?”

Spike rose up from his cringing. “This one.” He craned his neck to show his throat. Faint purple-white lines crisscrossed his scales like a wrapping of phantom twine. He took a breath and tried to puff out a gout of flame; nothing came out but a feeble hiss of black smoke. “She shut down my fire. It was during her song — she sang something about better safe than sorry, and then ... zap.”

“You were right to be scared,” said The Dink. “She’s done a lot worse than that. She’s magicked away all the grown-ups in town, and she turned Sweetie’s Griffon friend to stone!”

Spike squeezed his tail again. “Oh, no! Gabby?” He approached Sweetie Belle to offer a consoling hug. She accepted it. Just then, however, Spike drew back in alarm. “Hold on. ALL the grown-ups? Is THAT where Twilight’s been?”

Pinch nodded. “Majesty says they’re all on some kinda friendship retreat, but we know better.”

“At least I know something, now,” Spike replied. “I missed the rest of the song when I ran, and I was so worried when Twilight didn’t come back from going to the train station.”

The foals shared uneasy glances.

“What?” Spike asked. “What is it?”

“Okay, don’t freak out,” said Pinch. “But the train station kinda … exploded. A bit.”

Spike freaked out, more than a bit.

“It’s okay!” Sweetie insisted as she struggled to hold his panicked flailing in check. “We didn’t find anypony there! Twilight must have vanished with everypony else!”

Spike’s motions slowed until he slumped down and sat. “H-How is that supposed to make me feel better?”

The Dink shrugged. “Well, vanishing beats getting blown up, doesn’t it?”

Spike sighed. “I guess so. So, why are you here? Are you trying to get to the bottom of all this?”

“Bingo,” Pinch said. “We need to do some research. In a hurry.”

Spike hopped upright and puffed out his chest. For the first time since they’d found him, he shook off the pall of anxiety that had hung over him. “You came to the right Dragon. This way!” His claws clattered on the polished floors as he led the group toward the Princess’s ever-growing hoard of books.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“There’s gotta be an easier way to do this,” Bloom said as she offered Scootaloo her helmet. “An’ safer!”

Scootaloo strapped it securely and then shook her head. “After what Sweetie said, it’s clear this is what it’s gonna take to keep Majesty’s focus on us.” She pushed her scooter halfway up the thin wooden plank. It creaked ominously. “Stay sharp, okay? I’m only getting one shot at this.”

“Awright. Just be careful, ya hear?” Bloom carefully trotted up to the edge of the roof and peered down at the gathering of doodling and painting foals below. “Hay, Pip! How’re things?” She wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully.

Pip looked up from drawing a dancing teapot, and offered a semi-sly wink. “Everything is fine!” he said with stark clarity. “Nothing unusual at all!” Sweat shone on his forehead.

“Okay, good…!” Bloom replied. “I GETCHA.” She mimed a cut-it-out slash across her neck with a hoof and then turned back to Scootaloo. “Ramp’s all set and Pip’s in position.”

Scoots nodded. “It’s go time. Hope this works — I’ve never done this before.” When Bloom raised an eyebrow, she added: “... Not on purpose, I mean.” Once her friend was clear of the path, Scootaloo put her goggles in place, got settled on her scooter, and then pushed forward.

The wood tipped and clacked down against the rooftop. Scootaloo buzzed her wings full speed to pick up as much momentum as she could before the short, curved ramp at the roof’s edge.

She bellowed “LOOK OUT BELOW!” as she rocketed off the ramp and sailed into the air. Across the square, the wading pool waited. Her trajectory was perfect, describing an arc straight down into the middle of the pool.

At the peak of her jump, Scootaloo gritted her teeth and back-flapped hard. The braking spoiled her course and dropped her early; she braced a split second before impact.

Foals ran in a panic as the apple-bobbing tub smashed apart with a deafening crash. Scootaloo came to rest in an apple-strewn mud puddle, surrounded by broken wood. She groaned.

Bloom cringed at the sight, but then ducked down to whisper urgently to her comrade: “Pip! It’s your turn! GO!”

Pip snapped out of his shock and horror in the wake of the crash. He galloped up to the disaster site and let out a theatrical gasp.

“Oh, merciful heavens!” he wailed. “This is TERRIBLE! Help! Somepony help!” He sat down in the fresh mud and cradled Scootaloo’s head in his hooves. “Scootaloo! Speak to me!” He threw his head back and raged at the sky above. “WHY-Y-Y?”

“Nngh, laying it on … a little thick …” Scootaloo mumbled.

A blinding flash of lilac magic made them both squint, and then Majesty was looming over them both with a face full of motherly worry.

“Oh, dear!” She clucked her tongue. “You poor thing, let’s get a look at you! Where does it hurt?”

Scootaloo gave in to impulses she usually wrestled down; her bottom lip quivered and her eyes welled up with tears behind her goggles. “I h-hit my shoulder and my leg,” she whimpered. She fluttered her sodden wings feebly and made the most wide-eyed, pathetic, pouty face she could muster. “It hurts!”

“Scootaloo!” Pip rushed in close again. “Please help her, Miss Majesty!”

Majesty lit her horn and lifted Scootaloo up in a warm cradle of magic. The helmet eased off and thin tines of force brushed the Pegasus’s wet mane.

“Hush, now. All is well,” Majesty crooned. “I’m here. I’ll set you right and keep you safe.” Her horn glowed brighter; colours grew more vivid and the background noises of the foal-filled town assembled into a rhythm. Majesty hummed a clean, clear note to set a key.

All around, foals stopped their play and leisure and trotted into rows that swayed back and forth in unison.

Pip stepped back, his ears and tail drooping. The humming tingled in his bones and made him shiver. “Wh-What’s happening? A song? But, it’s … we didn’t…”

Scootaloo squirmed in the magical grip. “Something’s wrong! This —”

MAJESTY’S SONG

MAJESTY:

(Turns to address entire square, cutting Scootaloo off)

This isn’t how you should be,

raising eyebrows in alarm.

SCOOTALOO:

(Finally wriggles free and drops down)

There are many sights to see,

and danger has its charm!

PIPSQUEAK:

(Uncertain, surprised at himself)

But it’s her sacred duty

to keep you safe and warm …?

MAJESTY:

(Rears up and turns a circle, crescendo)

So I swear by all that’s holy

You will never come to ha-a-a-a-arm!

CHORUS OF FOALS:

(Sway with the music, sing in unison)

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Protect us one and all!

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Come save us when we call!

Miss Majesty, oh Miss Majesty,

You catch us when we fall!

Bloom bit her lip. “Shewt, how’d this get started? We’re usually the ones who do that!” She felt the spreading warmth saturate colours and organize noise into melody around her. She shuddered. “N-No…! Stop! I wasn’t even talkin’ to her!”

She turned away and made to leap down to the piled crates she’d climbed to reach the roof. Her strides felt like wading through neck-deep mud. She strained to keep moving, hooves scraping on the shingles, but she soon slipped, tripped, and tumbled backward off the roof with a frightened cry.

“Ahhgh! This —”

APPLE BLOOM:

(Caught mid-fall by Majesty’s magic, singing worriedly)

— ain’t how it ought to be,

somethin’s changin’ up the game!

(Floats toward the others)

SCOOTALOO:

(Nods in agreement, visibly anxious)

Each song goes differently

but they should all play out the same!

(Majesty magicks bandages around Scootaloo’s shoulder and chest)

APPLE BLOOM:

(Legs kicking air, urgently struggling)

Pip, Scootaloo, somepony,

we gotta go or we’ll exclaim —

PIP:

(Holds his head, shaking, tries and fails to stop himself)

The ones that are still tardy,

Sweetie, Dink and Pinch, by na-a-a-ame!

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The Dink heaved a frustrated sigh as she slammed a fourth volume of Griffonstone Gazette Archives closed. Spike walked up to the table she sat at and swapped it out for volume five.

“Nothing,” The Dink huffed. “Nothing in crime stories or wanted posters. No Pale Death, no Prey That Hunts.”

Pinch looked up from a stack of flyers and magazines in one corner of the castle’s library. “Nothing in the plays or recent short stories, either.” She angled her head to and fro, and her neck protested with a series of cracks and pops. “It’s lucky Princess Twilight is kinda obsessed with Griffons, but we’re getting nowhere!”

Sweetie frowned. “I’m sorry.” She hung her head. “She was so upset — I was sure it meant something! I’ve never seen Gabby like that, freaking out and ATTACKING somepony!” She hugged herself. “Going on about death and prey and blue flowers five …”

The Dink perked up. “Blue Flowers Five?”

Pinch leaped over the piled playbills. “You didn’t mention that one on the way.”

Sweetie tilted her head. “I didn’t? I guess it didn’t seem important.” She frowned. “I thought she was just pointing out Majesty’s Cutie Mark!”

“I’m sure she was,” The Dink replied. “We should have thought of it, too. She just looked so … so normal … that it didn’t even occur to me.”

“Mm-hm.” Pinch nodded.

Sweetie looked back and forth between the other fillies. “What didn’t? I don’t get it!”

“Five blue flowers is a bad omen for Griffons,” Pinch said as she nudged her half-spilled piles of papers back into order. “It means certain doom.” She put on a low, grim tone for a recitation: “The mightiest warriors alive —”

The Dink picked up where she left off. “Tremble on sight of Blue Flowers Five.”

“That doesn’t make sense, though,” Pinch mused. “That’s a really old superstition. Like, REALLY old. It CAN’T be talking about some mare Miss Cheerilee’s age!”

Sweetie’s pale hide paled further. “Wh-What if it was all a terrible mistake? What if Gabby saw Majesty’s Cutie Mark and panicked, and then Majesty went overboard to protect me? Oh, no …” A shiver went through her.

In the blink of an eye, Pinch was up close and tugging Sweetie into a tight hug. “Stop. Never, EVER blame yourself for the bad things somepony else does. It’s NOT your fault. You hear me?” She drew back and stared into Sweetie’s tear-glossed eyes. “Did you feel protected when Majesty did that? Did you feel safe?”

Sweetie sniffled and shook her head.

“Of course you didn’t. Just because a bad grown-up acts sweet and nice some of the time, it does NOT make him good.” Pinch turned away and dried her own eyes with a foreleg. “H-Her, I mean.”

The Dink reached out a hoof. “Hay, Pinch … you need a minute?”

Pinch took a breath. “I’m fine. Let’s just figure this out. Maybe the older history books?” She turned to Spike just as the little Dragon returned with still more contemporary tomes. “Change of plans, Spike! We need to go farther back. WAY farther back. The oldest stuff you’ve got.”

The Dink and Sweetie followed the others over to a different section of the castle library.

Sweetie paused; her right ear twitched. “Hay … do you hear that?”

The others turned back. “Hear what?” Pinch asked.

“Wait, yeah …” The Dink strained to listen. “Is that … music?”

Sweetie’s ears drooped. “It’s not just music! It’s a SONG!”

“Shoot, were out of time!” The Dink dashed over to help Spike gather books. “If they’re singing this way, they might find us!”

The candle-lit library grew brighter and warmer; the coloured spines of hundreds of books became a chaotic rainbow of hues.

Sweetie Belle swayed, staggered, and caught herself. “I… I don’t feel right,” she whimpered. All at once, recognition flashed in her eyes and snapped her stiffly upright. “It’s her! It’s her magic!”

“I’ll bet it is!” Pinch said as she magicked a pile of books into her saddlebags one by one. “She led one song, no surprise she’s leading another.”

The shuffle and slide of books and the clink of claws and hooves on crystal floors slipped into a regular backbeat. Sweetie fidgeted in place, but even her nervous steps matched the tempo. “No! It’s not just that! She’s doing something weird! Can’t you feel it?”

The Dink shivered. “Oh, crud. She is!” Her horn flashed, and Sweetie, Pinch and Spike all got a magical shove toward the side door. “All of you, scram! I’ll keep her busy!”

Sweetie’s voice cracked into squeaks as she spoke. “No! Don’t! Not you, too! ”

Pinch pushed at her side with her head. “No time! Help me grab the books, or it’ll be —”

MAJESTY’S SONG, CONT’D.

RUBY PINCH:

(Slides forward, eyes full of worry)

Too late to slip out clean and make our getaway.

DINKY HOOVES:

(Slides up opposite to face her)

The mission is what matters! You’ve gotta let me stay!

SWEETIE BELLE:

(Surges in perpendicular to push them apart)

I can’t deal with this again! If there’s a price then let ME pay!

SPIKE:

(Fidgets anxiously)

So who is playing hero? Can we make the call? TODAY?

CHORUS OF FOALS:

(Distant and muffled refrain)

The Dink shook her head to clear it. “You’ve gotta go NOW! The next verse is coming any second! Don’t worry about me! Far as we know, Majesty won’t hurt a Pony.” She hustled the group, books and all, toward the door, but then paused. “Hay, Pinch … if I don’t …”

Pinch put a hoof to her comrade’s shoulder. “Don’t get all gooey right when you’re doing something super cool, dummy.”

They shared a smile, and then Pinch, Spike and Sweetie hurried away while The Dink turned back toward the main door and stood firm, head subtly bobbing to the song’s beat.

MAJESTY:

(Bursts through the door, followed by Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, Pipsqueak, and the Chorus)

Olly olly oxen free,

I’ve found you, my little friend!

DINKY HOOVES:

(Hops back but stands her ground)

I’m here because I wanna be,

Time for the chase to end!

APPLE BLOOM:

(Rushes up to Dink)

We tried to stall Majesty,

PIPSQUEAK:

(Gallops over to them)

But didn’t comprehend,

SCOOTALOO:

(Staggers up slower, still hurt)

Her magic’s something fancy,

MAJESTY:

(Blushes modestly, smiles)

All the better to defend

Every colt and filly

As you play and pretend!

CHORUS OF FOALS:

(Sway with the music, sing in unison)

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Protect us one and all!

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Come save us when we call!

Miss Majesty, oh Miss Majesty,

You catch us when we fall!

APPLE BLOOM, SCOOTALOO, PIPSQUEAK, DINKY HOOVES:

(Join Chorus this time, obviously tense and reluctant)

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Protect us one and all!

Keep us safe, Miss Majesty!

Come save us when we call!

Miss Majesty, oh Miss Majesty,

You catch us whe-e-e-en we-e-e-e fa-a-a-a-a-a-a-all!

As the magic of the moment faded and the music quieted, the gathered foals giggled and cheered and raced around the castle full of energetic glee.

All but four of them.

TO BE CONTINUED

A Heart Full of Song

“Usually magical treasure is in jungle temples and desert tombs and stuff, right?” Rainbow Dash mused as she hovered along beside Twilight Sparkle. “It’s pretty weird to find a bunch of it in the snow, isn’t it?”

Ponyville’s day was just beginning. The streets were only lightly traveled, but the few Ponies up with the dawn waved cheerfully as the two of them passed by.

“This isn’t a typical situation,” Twilight replied. “Dream Castle was the centre of the world in the Paleopony Period. It predates the founding of Equestria, the Pillars — everything. But the Castle was in a deep valley, and it was lost when the Windigos buried Old Ponyland in snow. The whole region became an endless flat plain. Finding it present-day is an incredible feat! A.K. Yearling will definitely get a new Daring Do book out of this one.”

“Wow. And everything they dug up is coming here on its way to Canterlot?” Dash whistled in appreciation. “Okay, that’s pretty awesome. I forgive you for waking me up early for this.”

Ahead, the cargo train was just pulling into the station. The brakes squealed, the whistle blew, and just as all was settled and still, a purple-white aura flashed from the caboose.

Dash frowned. “...Did you see that?”

“I did,” Twilight said. “Maybe a Unicorn’s using magic to unload the cargo?”

Dash narrowed her eyes. “Yeah … or maybe something freaky they dug up is thawing out.” She offered a grim chuckle. “Wanna find out?”

Twilight fixed her stance and gave a firm nod.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“...This story sounds scary!” Sunny Daze piped up. “Can we hear something nicer?”

“Something with butterflies!” added Peachy Pie. “I love butterflies!”

“Oh, yes!” Sunny agreed. “And flowers!”

The cheery fillies both shared a cry of: “Yay! Flowers!”

“GIRLS.” Ruby Pinch said it with as much self-control as she could muster. The group had stopped in an empty alley a few blocks from the town square. “This isn’t a story for fun. We’re TRYING to hear what happened to the grown-ups.” She craned her neck to look up at the magical portrait supported on her and Apple Bloom’s backs. “Sorry, Princess. You were saying?”

The group resumed walking. Zecora took the lead, followed by Pipsqueak and Sweetie Belle, then Bloom and Pinch with the wood-braced canvas, and Spike, Peachy and Sunny at the rear. Toola Roola, the painting’s creator, had taken her payment of cookies and gracefully bowed out of any potentially dangerous goings-on.

The flattened figure of Princess Twilight took a calming breath, and then continued.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The rear door of the cargo caboose glowed in Twilight’s magical grip, and slowly creaked open. She and Dash cautiously stepped closer and peered into the gloom ahead.

The train car was piled high with storage crates, chests, scroll cases, trunks, and barrels. The load mostly blocked the view of the far end, leaving only thin gaps to peek through. Even so, Dash’s keen eyes caught sight of the pale glow of magical auras. She frowned.

“Look, some of the stacks are tipped over,” she said softly. “Somepony’s been snooping.” Something blocked the glow for a moment. Dash stiffened. “There…!”

Twilight stepped up to the caboose’s open doorway and spread her wings wide. “Hello?” she called out. “Whoever that is, we know you’re in there. Please come out!”

A pale lilac glow seized two dozen crates and boxes and rearranged them to create an arched passageway from one end of the car to the other. The culprit was exposed.

Twilight’s wings and jaw dropped. “Impossible … she vanished more than fifteen hundred years ago!”

“I don’t get it.” Dash’s head titled. “She just looks like a normal Unicorn?”

“Rainbow…!” Twilight chided. “Don’t you know who this is?”

Dash smiled apologetically, and shrugged. “You know history’s not really my-”

The mare caught sight of Twilight. She gasped and reared up in alarm. “Aglæca!”

Twilight drew back. “What…? I’m not-”

Lilac radiance flooded the caboose as the Unicorn’s horn ignited. “Aweggā, andsaca!” She threw back her head and started humming a sharp, clear note. The tone quickly grew louder and louder. It resonated through the rail car’s wooden walls and tingled in Dash and Twilight’s bones.

“What’s happening?” Dash shouted over the din.

“She’s scared of me!” Twilight cried back. “She thinks I’m a monster!” Twilight struggled to get closer to the mare, shielding herself with a wing as she fought waves of rippling magic. “Cwēn Mǣrþu! Bidde!”

The mare’s eyes lit up as she added notes to the humming. The melody flowed around her like ocean waves, hammering the walls and sending Dash and Twilight tumbling under a heap of falling crates.

“Rainbow!” Twilight shouted. “She won’t listen! We have to get away! We-”

The deafening magical song reached a peak, and everything went white.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“Whoa,” Pinch said softly. The group came to a halt only twenty or so paces from the town hall.

Sunny and Peachy had their heads buried in one another’s shoulders, whimpering meekly.

“That’s it?” Sweetie asked. “You didn’t even get a chance to talk to her?”

“I’m not surprised,” Spike said with a shudder.

The painting of Twilight frowned apologetically. “Sorry, everypony. I wish there was more to tell. She was so upset that she wouldn’t listen, and then the next thing I knew, you were contacting the phase-space with this two-dimensional link.”

Bloom peered up at the portrait. “But why did she get so riled up in the first place?”

“Well, we don’t know what happened to Majesty between her time and the present day. If she’s been somewhere else, in another world, she could have had bad experiences. If she somehow traveled through time, she could have been shocked by the modern world, the train, or …” She shifted uncomfortably. A faint blush coloured her cheeks.

“Or?” Pip pressed.

The princess hung her head. “Or, maybe she’d never seen an Alicorn before, and she mistook me for some kind of inequine monster.”

The little colt winced. “Oh.”

Twilight pushed down the dark mood with a shake of her head. “But like I said before, it’s all just a misunderstanding! There’s no reason Queen Majesty has to keep everypony locked away in a pocket dimension over this. If I can talk to her, explain things to her, I’m sure she’ll understand.” Twilight paused for a tiny moment. “She has to.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Dinky “The Dink” Hooves and Scootaloo finally reached the end of their Majesty-mandated foalsitting shift. The babies were all fed and happy and napping, the nursery was tidy, and for all appearances they were sadder, wiser young fillies.

Their Unicorn jailer paced around the crowded room, quietly nodding. When Majesty spoke, her voice was a velvety whisper, so as not to disturb the sleeping infants.

“You’ve done an excellent job, girls. I see you’ve learned valuable lessons about responsibility and the importance of playing nicely with others.”

“Oh, yes, Miss Majesty,” The Dink lied. “We can’t wait to go and have some good, clean fun.”

“No more scooter crashes!” Scootaloo sat up and raised a solemn hoof, but crossed her tiny flight-pinions behind her back. “Promise!”

“Wonderful,” Majesty said with another nod. “You run along. There are other colts and fillies who will be taking over for you.”

The fillies gathered their things and trotted out side by side with wide, guileless grins plastered on their faces. Those false faces melted into stern frowns the instant they were out of Majesty’s sight, and their stiff, high-trotting stances sagged with sighs as soon as they were out of earshot.

“Okay, I’m chalking this up as a neutral point,” The Dink said. “We lost a lot of time and we were temporarily captured, but we picked up some seriously juicy intel.”

“You mean the puzzle pieces.” Scootaloo did her best to make it not sound like a question.

“Yeah. If that eye means what I think it means, this is big. REALLY big. It could be our ticket out of this mess. We need to find the other pieces — get a scavenger hunt started ASAP. There’s precious little time.”

Scootaloo raised an eyebrow. “IS there? Or did you just want a chance to say that?”

The Dink paused. “... C’mon. Let’s see who we can find.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“Maybe she’s not in?” Pip offered meekly. “It doesn’t look like she’s in. We could try later …”

“We’re not tryin’ later,” Bloom said firmly. “It’s now or-” When Pip and Spike brightened with hope, she caught herself. “ … It’s now.”

The group stood at the bottom of the town hall’s front steps, with Bloom and Pinch flanking and propping up the portrait of Twilight, Spike and Sweetie by their sides, and Sunny, Peachy and Pip hiding behind them.

“I r-really hope this works, Twilight,” Spike said. He swallowed down a lump in his throat. “I’ve … I’ve never been this scared before.” He wrung his tail in both hands. “Why am I s-so scared of her?”

Twilight smiled in gentle sympathy. “You’re being very brave, Spike. After the Dragon Wars long ago, I’m not surprised you’re instinctively uncomfortable around Majesty. There was… she…” Twilight frowned. “It was a different time.”

Sweetie shifted uncomfortably. “She didn’t listen to us before. What if she doesn’t now?”

“It can be hard pursuing goals, when you are seen as merely foals,” Zecora chimed in.

“I surprised her in the train,” Twilight agreed. “This time, we’ll talk like adults, Princess to Queen, and figure this out.”

Bloom took a slow, deep breath. “Fair ‘nuff. Here goes, I guess.” She turned to the tall doors and called out: “Majesty...?” When nopony answered, Bloom cleared her throat and tried again, louder. “Miss, uh, Queen Majesty? You in there?”

After a painfully long, silent delay, the doors opened and Majesty trotted out. “Yes, my little Ponies? How can I help you?”

“We’ve got some folks here who’d like to talk,” Bloom said carefully. “Just talk, that’s all.”

Majesty’s lavender eyes swept over the group, lingering on the baby Dragon, the animated portrait and the gold-bangled Zebra.

“Of course,” Majesty said airily. “I love a good talk! Why don’t you foals just run along, and leave us to our boring old grown-up conversation?”

Pinch narrowed her eyes. “We’re not bored, don’t worry.”

Sweetie’s jaw stiffened. She cleaved closer to Twilight’s portrait.

“Suit yourselves.” Majesty’s eyes tightened for a split second. “So! What ever do a Wyrm, an Ancient, and a minion of Parabola have to say to me, that calls for such a crowded entourage?” Her cheery tone was jagged and brittle, like a stained-glass mosaic.

Twilight stepped as close to the dimensional window as she could, totally filling the poster-paper affixed to the wood-braced canvas. “Queen Majesty, my name is Princess Twilight Sparkle. I am not Aglæca. I’m not an adversary. You’ve been away for a very, very long time, and a lot of things have changed. I’m sure you’ve noticed, judging from the translation spell you’re using.”

The Unicorn sniffed. “From where I stand, it seems things are more the same than ever.” A faint sheen glossed her horn.

“We do not wish to start a fight,” Zecora said. “Won’t you please hear out Twilight?”

Majesty flashed a wide-eyed glare at Zecora. “Speak your witching words when spoken to, wretch! Your horrid overlord is no more!” She stomped for emphasis. Sweetie, Pip, Sunny, Peachy and Spike cringed, but Bloom and Pinch held their ground. Majesty focused on them. Cracks were spreading through her stained-glass tone. “My little Ponies, I really think you should run along. I don’t want you to feel upset. These … creatures… and I are having a little disagreement, that’s all.”

Sweetie took a shaky breath and then stood up firmly, puffing out her chest and holding her head high. “I know what you want to do,” she said. “I won’t let you. Not again.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you earlier, my dear,” Majesty replied with smothering warmth. “Sometimes, keeping Ponies safe calls for decisive action. If you grow up, someday you’ll see the wisdom in that.”

Sweetie’s white face paled. “...IF I grow up…?”

“Queen Majesty!” Twilight cut in. “There’s been a misunderstanding! Maybe many of them! Please, try to understand … this isn’t Dream Valley. This isn’t the old world. Things are different, now. Ponies have made friends far and wide. We’re at peace with our neighbours. The wars are over!”

Majesty’s horn ignited. “You wear a crown of lies, Princess. I found myself brought here with all my possessions intact, including my scrying orb. I have seen your so-called peace. Dangers fit to fill a fresh volume of the Book of Horrors leaped into view at the merest beckoning!” She swung her head, and phantom images flickered into being all around them: The cackling madness of Nightmare Moon. A swarm of ravening parasprites. A horde of hideous Changelings. The mania of King Sombra. The ferocity of Tirek. The heavily-armoured shock troops of the Storm King.

Twilight drew back in her painted prison and winced at the painful memories. “Those are the absolute worst examples in between years of peace! Did you even TRY to ask your orb to show you anything GOOD?”

Majesty stomped a front hoof. “I don’t need a lecture on goodness from an Ancient! Your corrupt empire fell, and the world is safer for it!” The illusions vanished, but Majesty’s horn stayed lit. She strode toward the group with rock-solid steps. “My little Ponies, please step away. Right. Now.” Her benign tone picked up a steely edge the foals had never heard before.

Zecora moved to stand between Majesty and the others. She scuffed the dirt with a hoof. “Let me say, Queen Majesty -”

The advancing Unicorn interrupted with a sing-song retort: “You rhyme quite nicely, for a TREE.” Blinding magic flashed, and the group gasped and staggered, dazzled. Twilight’s painting dropped flat as her holders lost their grips. Spike curled up in a cringing, trembling ball of scales.

When the spots cleared from their eyes, the group saw Zecora had been reduced to a statue of living wood, complete with rooted hooves and a mane of leaves. Her knothole eyes perfectly captured her shock and alarm.

“Oh, Celestia…” Bloom whispered, wide-eyed.

“NO!” Tears welled up in Sweetie’s eyes. “You can’t do this! You have to stop!” She galloped at Majesty with an anguished cry.

Pinch reached out a hoof after her. “Sweetie! Don’t!”

Sweetie’s hooves left the ground as Majesty magicked her up to dangle helplessly in midair. Sweetie slapped at Majesty’s pale hide with feeble bursts of magic as she wriggled and kicked and thrashed. “Stop it! STOP IT! Just stop! I HATE YOU!” She sobbed in impotent fury. Hot tears streaked her crimson cheeks.

“Majesty, this is wrong!” Twilight shouted once Pinch and Bloom had hoisted the frame upright once more. “What you’re doing, it’s… it’s monstrous!”

Majesty scowled. The expression furrowed her face as her customary smile and laugh lines twisted and bent. “Don’t think I enjoy what you abominations make me do,” she said gravely. “I have no choice, if I’m to keep Ponykind safe.”

Twilight pressed up close to the surface of the painting once more. “Look at these foals! Look at how upset they are. How afraid. Do they LOOK like they feel safe?”

Majesty paused and took a half step back. A heartbeat passed. Two.

But then a wave of lilac magic gripped each foal individually, and dragged them all back and away firmly enough to dig furrows into the dirt.

“That’s nopony’s fault but your own, Ancient.”

A purple-white fireball smashed down from above onto the portrait. Twilight seemed unhurt as the the thin paper and paint were set ablaze. She urgently called out to the foals with a distant, crackling voice, speaking quicker and quicker as her time ran out:

“There’s no other way, now! Spike! All of you! Theresstillachanceitson-” The flames spread, and the link was severed. The rest of Twilight’s frantic plea was cut off. The portrait froze, lifeless, and curled into blackened ashes seconds later.

Once the fire was safely out, Majesty released her magical grip. She turned her focus to the little Dragon among the Ponies. “You. Spike, is it? Know your place and tend to these poor dears. It’s been a trying time, and I need to make sure there are no other invaders in the city.”

Spike wiped away his tears and offered a grieving, furious nod.

Majesty brightened immediately, like nothing had ever happened. “Splendid! Now, you little Ponies take a moment. Have some ice cream, run and play. I’ll return presently to check on you.” She turned and trotted out of the town square, sofly humming to herself.

“She’s a madpony,” Pip whimpered once Majesty was out of sight. “Absolutely mad.”

Sunny and Peachy were huddled together at Pip’s left, each with her head buried against the other’s shoulder, lost in terror.

Bloom sat close to the three of them, frowning in shaken worry.

Spike, Pinch and Sweetie stood in a semicircle around the nightmarish new tree in the square.

“There isn’t anypony else,” Sweetie said softly. “Nopony’s coming.”

Spike gritted his teeth and squeezed his claws into fists. “And even if they do, Majesty will just …”

Pinch sniffled hard and dried her eyes with a foreleg. “That’s it, then. Getting help didn’t work. Talking to her didn’t work.” Her dark expression darkened. “We’re gonna hafta kick her butt.”

“But HOW?” Bloom asked as she trotted up to the trio. “You know what she can do! We can’t just run up an’ … an’ TACKLE her, or somethin’!”

Spike heaved a sigh that made the hex on his throat glow as it blocked his fire. “There’s gotta be a way. Before the portrait burned up, Twilight was trying to tell us something. She had an idea. It’s on … something, she said. What’s on where? We just need to figure it out.”

“Figure what out?”

The Dink and Scootaloo trotted into the square and approached the group. Both wore bulging saddlebags that rattled and clacked as they moved.

“DINK!” Pinch cried out. She raced forward and skidded to a stop in front of the filly, catching herself before she did something as un-cool as offering a rib-straining hug. She settled for holding out a hoof to bump.

To one side, Scootaloo showed no such concerns, and leaped into a three-way embrace with her fellow Crusaders.

Dink bumped back, and solemnly looked the cursed tree up and down. “Things got worse while we were in lockup, huh?”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty bad.” Pinch took a shaky breath. “We’re out of options, here. Majesty’s out of her mind, Dink. I was just saying, it’s down to a head-on assault, more or less. Even trying Princess Twilight didn’t work.”

The Dink’s eyebrows raised. “Princess Twilight got out?”

Pinch shrugged. “Not exactly. It’s complicated.”

“Gotcha. Fill me in on the way.” The Dink turned to go. “C’mon, gang!”

Pinch spoke up, but she didn’t hesitate to follow. “Where’re we going?”

The Dink flashed her best mischievous grin. “Me and Scootaloo have got something cooking. I think it just might help.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The group came upon a snaking lineup of foals before they reached the CMC clubhouse. More than a dozen little Ponies stood waiting, right up to the clubhouse door, which was slung with a hastily scrawled BACK IN 10 MINUTES sign.

“I’m sorry about Zecora,” The Dink said as the group bypassed the line and trotted inside. “Just a moment, everypony!” she called over her shoulder before close the door behind them.

“We all are,” Bloom said with a nod. “That’s why we need to do something, before anypony else gets hurt.” She took stock of the clubhouse interior, and then raised an eyebrow. “Dink … what IS all this?”

The room was scattered with heaps of stony puzzle-pieces, some interlocked and most loose, along with scraps of paper bearing names and numbers written in pencil.

“I’ll tell you what it is,” The Dink said as she posed atop one of the larger piles. “It’s our secret weapon.” She nodded at the rearmost heap. “Show ‘em, Scoots.”

Scootaloo trotted over to the pile, and picked up one of the largest connected chunks. The red-and-yellow eye in the middle of the stone widened in recognition and then blinked frantically.

“That eye …” Bloom said softly.

“Is that what I think it is?” Sweetie asked.

“You CAN’T be serious!” Pip lamented. He sat down and buried his face in his front hooves. “You’re as mad as she is!”

Sunny and Peachy, who’d brought up the rear, both stared in confusion. “I don’t get it,” said Sunny.

Bloom inhaled to explain, but The Dink cut her off.

“Hay! You two! You’re just the Ponies I need for this project!” She trotted over, all smiles and sunshine. “You like safe, clean, indoor fun, right? Like drawing, and picture books, and … puzzles?”

Both fillies brightened, but then drew back and hesitated. The day’s ordeals had taken their toll. “Puzzles...?” Peachy asked cautiously.

“Yup!” The Dink waved at the room-wide mess. “I just need you to stay in here, safe and sound, and put this greaaaaat biiiiiig puzzle back together. Ponies all over town are on a scavenger hunt for the pieces. We just got back from picking up what they found on the other side of town.”

“Yeah about that,” Pinch said as she nudged a pile of pieces with a hoof and sent them tumbling. “How did you get so many colts and fillies to get involved? Majesty’s already conjuring up anything they ask for.”

The Dink hung her head. “Sacrifices had to be made. Majesty can make toys and food, but she can’t just make up awesome stories off the top of her head. Whoever finds the most pieces ... gets my comic collection.”

Pinch put a hoof to her friend’s shoulder. “Oh, Dink … even Tales of Wonder #1?”

“Whatever it takes to get the mission done,” The Dink said gravely.

Pinch shared a solemn look with her comrade, and then firmly nodded. “Whatever it takes. If you need my collection-”

“No. You keep yours, Pinch. For my sake.” Shaking her head to clear away the sad moment, The Dink headed to a vacant corner to shake out her overflowing saddlebags. Still more puzzle pieces piled up on the floor. “Sheesh, Rumble’s good at this,” she muttered as she jotted down a name-and-number note for the pile.

Meanwhile, Sunny and Peachy had cautiously, hesitantly crept up to the puzzle heaps, as if half expecting them to explode.

“We … we just put this together?” Sunny asked.

“Nothing else?” Peachy added. “Nothing scary?”

Every other occupant of the room tossed sidelong glances back and forth several times. Finally, The Dink moved closer to the pair. “Definitely. Nothing scary will happen while you put the puzzle together.”

Sunny and Peachy trotted over to a pile and gave it a few uncertain hoof-nudges. They shrank back nervously when some pieces shifted and fell, but when no mayhem ensued, they drew in close once more. All at once, they both grabbed pieces.

“I think this one…” Peachy started.

“... Fits this one!” Sunny finished. They carefully stuck the pieces together, and then shared a delighted cheer.

“Omigosh!” Peachy said with a giggle. “This is so exciting!” She clapped her front hooves.

“Hay, great!” The Dink said with a wide, forced smile. “Do your best to put the whole thing together as soon as you can, okay? Oh, and whenever somepony brings you pieces, write down who and how many, okay?” She immediately turned away and nodded for the others to follow her out the clubhouse door. Once they’d gathered outside, she moved to address the lineup. “Okay, folks, we’re back in business! Proceed one at a time and deliver your pieces to the secretaries inside!” With that done, she trotted back toward town, followed by her friends.

“Sunny and Peachy really get into things, but it’s still gonna take them a while,” Bloom mused. “And even if they DO manage to put him together …”

The Dink nodded. “I know. Majesty must have beaten him once, already. She might be able to do it again. That’s why we still need something else. An edge, to throw her off until the big guy’s ready. Something to make it a one-two kick.”

“Twilight’s warning,” Pinch replied. “Whatever it’s on, we need to find it.”

The group murmured in general agreement, but then Pip frowned and sighed. “We’ll NEVER figure it out with just that, though!” he lamented. “It could mean nearly anything!”

“Look…!” Sweetie pointed ahead and upward.

In the open sky above the town square, Majesty’s flickering, translucent visage was ten stories tall. When she spoke, her booming voice echoed off every building.

“My little Ponies, won’t you please come to the square? I’ve been thinking things over, and we need to have a VERY important talk about what’s been going on, lately ...”

With the message delivered, the apparition soon faded and vanished.

“Whoa,” said Bloom. “She was so different. She almost sounded …”

“Guilty,” Sweetie piped up. “She sounded guilty.”

Scootaloo glanced at Sweetie. “Maybe you actually got through to her?”

Sweetie’s eyes were downcast as they all got moving again. “Maybe.”

The foals joined their comrades in the teeming crowd. Hundreds of Ponies, and not a grown-up among them. Mere moments after the last foal arrived, Majesty stepped out of the town hall with a weathered, yellowed book magicked up to float by her side.

“Everypony,” Majesty addressed the throng, “after what’s happened the past few days, I’ve realized that things can’t continue as they’ve been. I’ve been unfair to you all.”

The air filled with whispers and muttering. Foals shifted anxiously, afraid of the end of perpetual ice-cream and no bedtime.

Majesty held up a hoof for silence, and then continued. “I now see that I can’t keep you safe with everypony running all over this massive city. It’s just too hard to keep an eye on all of you.”

“Massive?” Pinch tilted her head.

“You see,” Majesty spoke on, “the world isn’t as sweet and safe as you’ve been led to believe. I’ve filled whole tomes with nothing but records of the menaces threatening our kind.”

The air filled with a bone-deep hum. Colours began to brighten.

“Oh, no,” Spike whimpered. “Not again…!”

Majesty lit up her horn and heaved a regretful sigh. “I must do more to ensure that Ponies survive. The world is a frightening place. It’s … it’s a danger to you all.”

A DANGER TO US ALL

To the tune of It's a Small World,

by Robert B. Sherman and Richard M. Sherman

MAJESTY:

(Opens her book and flips through pages,

then conjures images of monsters, demons,

and wild beasts all over the square)

It's a world of terror, a world of strife

Full of fearsome beasts out to take your life!

Just behind every tree,

Lurking peril unseen -

It's a danger to you all!

FOAL CHORUS:

(Sing in fear as they cringe away from the displays)

It's a danger to us all, it's a danger to us all

It's a danger to us all, it's an awful threat!

As before, the group found themselves swept up in the music. Captives of unity, like circling ants.

As soon as she finished the chorus, Sweetie covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut against the catchy ear-worm melody and the ghastly light-show. “Nnngh! No! I don’t wanna sing with you! You’re evil! Stop making us sing!” Her squeaky voice was barely even audible over the raucous din. Nopony noticed her protests.

MAJESTY:

(Adds more and more apparitions,

trotting through the crowds to address foals one by one.

Monstrous Alicorns are among the illusions)

The light of the sun and the silver moon,

Reveal horrors bent on your certain doom!

Over mountains they storm,

From the oceans they swarm -

It's a danger to you all!

FOAL CHORUS:

(Visibly panicked, but still caught up. They follow Majesty in a procession)

It's a danger to us all, it's a danger to us all

It's a danger to us all, it's an awful threat!

“Stop it!” Sweetie shouted louder as she found herself following the singing crowd. “This isn’t right! This isn’t how songs are supposed to work!” She lit up her stubby horn. Its green glow was fainter than even the smallest of Majesty’s projections. Sweetie reached out with her magic, grasping at nothing. “Leave us alone!” Her neck and shoulders tensed. Sweat beaded on her brow. “Just… go… awa-”

Sweetie’s eyes blazed brilliant white for a split second, and a silent shockwave threw her off her hooves and onto an abandoned candy-stained mattress near Sugarcube Corner. She lay on her back, knocked senseless, with wisps of grey-white smoke rising off her scorched horn.

Her friends managed to struggle their way over to her with rhythmic strides, swimming upstream through the trotting crowd. The song continued, heedless of their worry, but at least they had no more lyrics left.

MAJESTY:

(Leads the group past Twilight’s crystal castle)

It's a world of chaos, a world of grief

Full of heinous horrors beyond belief!

We must hide and rejoice,

We have no other choice!

The world's a danger to you a-a-a-a-a-a-all!

As the song peaked, Majesty thrust her head skyward. Her horn flared brighter than the sun above, and the lake-topped hillside behind the castle burst apart into a cratered mass of jagged peaks and thready waterfalls. In the middle of the ripped earth, the ground was perfectly firm and flat. A foundation.

“Everypony,” Majesty said with a proud, beaming smile, “This is the answer. This is where I’ll be building your new home. A safe, happy home, with everything you could ever want close at hoof. This … is the site of Paradise Estate.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Back outside the bakery, the group gathered around Sweetie. Spike carefully touched two claws to her neck, and leaned in to listen near her nose. After a moment that lasted for eternity, he said: “...I think she’s okay?”

The group shared a sigh of relief.

Sweetie’s eyes tightened. She squirmed on the sticky mattress and let out a pained groan. “M-My horn hurts …”

“SWEETIE!” Bloom and Scootaloo hugged their friend from either side.

“Sweetie, what WAS that?” The Dink asked in fascination, the moment it was clear Sweetie was in no further danger. “I’ve never seen anything like that!”

“Yeah,” Pinch agreed. “What spell was that?”

“I … I dunno,” Sweetie said sheepishly. “She just made me so mad, I wasn’t really thinking about it. I just reached out with magic, like I wanted to pick her up and throw her away. But it felt like I touched something else instead … something as big as the whole world.”

“Oh road-apples,” The Dink swore. “I get it.”

“Language…!” Bloom chided.

“What is it, Dink?” Pinch asked.

“It’s what Twilight was trying to tell us. We heard her wrong. Not it’s on…”

Sweetie’s eyes widened. “ … It’s SONGS.”

“Yeah. Like, song-magic,” The Dink said. “Majesty isn’t singing while doing magic. She’s doing magic BY singing! She’s tapping into the … the …”

“Whatever it is?” Pip offered.

“ … That songs come from!” Dink finished.

Scootaloo’s face scrunched up. “What.”

“Songs don’t come from anywhere,” Bloom retorted. “They’re just … songs!”

“No, she’s right!” Spike said. “I know it must seem totally normal to you Ponies, but even though I’ve grown up with them my whole life, songs are REALLY weird. Like, where does the music come from? How do we all just know the words?”

Bloom frowned. “Well, now that’s just silly talk! Why wouldn’t we know the words? That’s how songs work! They ain’t stories or plays or somethin’ else you have to memorize ahead o’time! They just happen!”

“Like Cutie Marks?” Pinch piped up.

Bloom inhaled to reply, but found herself with nothing to say.

“Songs are special,” The Dink continued. “They’re a big deal. Deep magic, like friendship and holidays and … kissy-stuff.” Pip, Scootaloo, Bloom, Pinch and The Dink grimaced in distaste. “Majesty must be so strong because she’s tapping into that stuff. Powering up with the deep magic. Like when Princess Twilight and her friends used friendship to beat Nightmare Moon.”

Scootaloo nodded. “Yeah, before Twilight got her wings.”

“This really is a terribly bizarre town,” Pip said. “I feel like you all should know that.”

Spike pulled an unwrapped humbug off the mattress and crunched it up. “So, Twilight wanted to tell us about the song-magic,” he said. “Why?”

“Seems clear to me,” The Dink replied. “Fight fire with fire. If we wanna kick Majesty’s butt, or even just hold her off until the puzzle’s done …” She strode forward, sat, and held up a resolute hoof. “... we’ve gotta get musical on her.”

TO BE CONTINUED

Refrain

Dinky Hooves sat on the thatched roof a vacant home and watched stones and planks fly past like migrating birds.

The faintly lilac-glowing building supplies were floating in from several directions, all converging on the carved-out mountain where Queen Majesty was assembling her new prison. Well, estate, as she called it. Occasional stray notes from her ongoing melody carried over on the breeze.

“She still going, Dink?” Ruby Pinch popped up in the attic window nearby. “It’s been hours!”

The Dink nodded.

“Even Princess Twilight would’ve gotten tired by now,” Pinch said as her narrowed eyes followed a soaring slab of masonry bigger than her bed back at home. She frowned. “We’re in deep trouble.”

“Deep trouble, and deep magic,” The Dink said with another nod. “The deepest. I can’t hold something heavy up for more than, like, a minute before my horn starts getting hot. And I can lift … maybe five things at once, if they’re small? How many planks you see right now?” She sighed. “As long as she’s the only one tapping into song-magic, we can’t hope to stand up to her. Sweetie Belle’s our only chance. We’ve gotta figure it out.” She craned her neck to peer toward ground-level. “Any luck yet?”

Pinch sagged. “Nothing. Whatever she did by accident before, she can’t make it happen again on purpose, now.”

The Dink frowned. “Shoot.”

“Uh-huh.” Pinch drew back and nodded for The Dink to follow, and the two of them headed down through the spacious place until they came to an opulent living room with all its expensive furniture and knick knacks shoved to the perimeter to clear up floor space.

Pipsqueak and Spike sat on a bench facing a grand piano pushed into one corner. The Cutie Mark Crusaders sat on a circular rug in the middle of the room, with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom flanking Sweetie while she grimaced in concentration.

“You almost had it, that time, totally!” Scootaloo pressed.

Bloom raised a hoof. “C’mon, one more try!”

Sweetie heaved a deep sigh. “Yeah … okay. From the top, guys!”

“Righto!” Pip rolled his shoulders and then put the edges of his hooves to the broad keys.

Spike flexed his claws and did likewise. “A one, and a two …” They both started playing a simple intro.

TENTH TIME’S A CHARM

SWEETIE BELLE:

(Stands up, takes a deep breath and ignites her horn)

(beat)

( … beat)

UHHGH! This isn’t working!

The backup music jumbled to a halt as Sweetie’s frustrated shout tripped Pip and Spike up.

“I can’t do it!” Sweetie stomped all four hooves in place. “It’s like trying to make yourself sneeze, or something!”

“Maybe you just need some pepper, then?” The Dink commented as she and Pinch approached the trio.

Sweetie sighed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, we don’t just sing for no reason, usually, right?” The Dink said with a shrug. “Now that I think about it, it’s not really fair to just expect you to turn it on like lighting a match. We don’t decide when it happens. Even Majesty’s got something goin’ on when she sets off her songs. We need, like, a REASON.”

“O’course!” Bloom said as she stood up. “Nothin’s goin’ on! Ya got no topic. No wonder it ain’t workin’!”

Scootaloo shrugged. “I thought the song about the floorboards was pretty okay?”

“No, she’s right, girls,” Sweetie said. “Even if I do figure out how to do what I did again, it’s not happening for no reason.”

The Dink gave a stern nod. “Cool. That settles it.”

“Wait, what?” Bloom cut in. “What settles what, exactly?”

Pinch met The Dink’s sidelong glance, and returned her nod. “This is like Daring Do and the Sunstone Shard. We aren’t getting a dry run — we’re gonna have to do this for real, first time. And soon.”

“You mean we, ah, confront her?” Pip asked cautiously.

Spike wrung his tail. “Already?”

The Dink shrugged. “It's not great, but it's not like things are getting any easier if we wait. Practicing didn’t work, and that foal prison’s gonna be built by tomorrow, at this rate.” She sniffed and then wiped her nose with a foreleg. “If we’re gonna use song-magic against Majesty, we might as well do it when she’s been working hard all day.”

“We can’t, though!” Bloom shook her head. “No way. Not yet. She’s too good at it!”

Scootaloo nodded. “Even if we can get Sweetie to do the thing, Majesty’ll just do like she did before, take over the lyrics. Make everypony dance to HER tune.”

The group was silent for a long moment, and then Pip cautiously piped up:

“Ah, well, I suppose we could always take inspiration from when Shadow Chaser fought the Cult of Fiery Doom…”

Everypony else stared in mingled surprise and fascination.

Pip frowned, and waved a hoof toward Pinch and The Dink. “Hmph! It’s not like THOSE two are the only ones who read books, you know!”

“Uh, right, sorry,” Pinch said with a subtle blush. “Anyway though, it we wanna try THAT plan, we’re gonna need a super, SUPER big diversion to even the odds. And since we don’t have any fire monsters around …”

“Yeah,” The Dink said. “We gotta bust out the secret weapon.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Peachy Pie and Sunny Daze hummed tunelessly and frowned in tongue-out concentration as they rummaged through heaps of puzzle pieces to find ones that matched.

The CMC clubhouse’s floor was littered with the slate-grey pieces, all retrieved by diligent scavenger hunters hoping to win the grand prize: The Dink’s precious comic book collection.

Piece by piece, part by part, they put the coiled, snaking statue together. Piles shrank and vanished, and single pieces were scooped up for use.

There was a knock at the door; Peachy spoke up. “C’mon in! Leave your pieces in a pile, and tell me your name, please!”

Bloom, The Dink, Pinch, Pip, Scootaloo, Sweetie and Spike all filed in. “No need,” The Dink said. “How’s it going?”

All at once, the whole mass of pieces gave a slight wriggle between the fillies’ hooves. It twisted and rolled, turning over, and then one baleful yellow eye with a blood-red iris opened on its seamed surface. Stony pieces parted like a mouth, revealing mismatched snaggle teeth.

“Shoot,” Scootaloo said under her breath. “Thought we’d get a chance to warn those two …”

“Well, well, well …!” the stone face rasped. “What have we here?” The thing cracked the left two-thirds of a wicked grin. “Boo!”

The new arrivals all braced for another trademark panic fit from Peachy and Sunny.

Right on cue, the two timid fillies froze, wide-eyed, as they stared at the impossible life in the lifeless stone puzzle.

And then they both cheered.

The stone thing frowned as best it could. The other foals gasped. All of them, in unison, said: “Wait, what?”

“You did it again!” Sunny cried with glee. “Just like the drawing!”

“You helped this time,” Peachy said with a bashful wave of a forehoof. “We BOTH did it!”

“I know I’ve been improving my reputation in town lately, but this is hardly the reception I was expecting,” the puzzle said. “Do you two even know who I AM?”

“Nope!” Sunny said brightly.

“We won’t know until you’re all back together, silly!” added Peachy. She leaned forward. “It’s a surprise.”

“They don’t, but WE do,” Sweetie said as she stepped forward. “And we need your help with Majesty.”

The seams between the pieces squirmed. The whole heap rattled like spilling gravel. “I’d love to get back at that vicious jar of poisoned candies, but I’m simply not at my best at the moment.” The thing waved at the patchy mess that served as a body. “Orderly, methodical things really don’t agree with me. I can’t solve this puzzle. I’m more of a knocking-puzzles-apart type.” A nail-buffing gesture to the chest knocked a key piece loose. The buffing arm fell off. “...See?”

“Fine,” Bloom replied. “Then we’ll all chip in and get this done!” She started prodding at the heaped pieces.

“Look out!” Sunny chided. “Those are wigglies! Don’t get ‘em in the hoopers heap!”

Spike blinked. “Wat.”

Peachy pointed at the various types of pieces they’d piled for imminent assemblage. “See? Wigglies, hoopers, blobs, and klacks!”

“Be that as it may,” Pip noted, “we’re awfully pressed for time. Could you direct us?”

With Sunny and Peachy’s eager yet baffling advice, the group rapidly reassembled the serpentine statue. As more and more pieces fell into place, more and more life flowed into the puzzle. It moved more smoothly, its seams grew thinner, and subtle traces of warmer colour dusted the sterile grey.

Things proceeded well for twenty minutes or so, but then Peachy frowned. “Uh-oh.”

The near-finished puzzle raised an eyebrow. “What? What is it? Did you put something in crooked? I’ll just DIE of embarrassment if you make me look STRANGE!” He raised a mostly complete paw to his brow, just below his one spiraled horn and one jutting antler.

“Looks like we’re still missing a piece,” Peachy continued. “Right there.” She pointed to the puzzle’s chest, where an irregular hole still lingered. “We don’t have any klacks left to fit.”

“What?” Scootaloo said. “It’s gotta be here! There’s nopony lined up anymore, and we didn’t pass anypony still looking. Town’s been searched top to bottom. They’ve GOTTA have ‘em all!” She raced around the clubhouse and shuffled through papers, all marked with names and number of pieces found. The other joined in, hoping to find a piece hidden under the dozens of notes.

“Aww, crud,” Pinch chimed. “We’ve got a situation.” She slid a paper forward. The large, friendly lettering read:

SILVER SPOON: one zero!

“Sunny!” The Dink barked. “What’s with this paper?”

“Oooooh, right!” Sunny replied. “Silver Spoon was here before, ‘cause she was curious about all the, the um …”

“Civil unrest!” Peachy said brightly. “She said the lineup and everypony running around was dis… ah…”

Sunny stepped in, again. “Disrupting the educational process!”

Both fillies smiled proudly over their teamwork.

The Dink frowned. “No, girls. I mean, why’s it crossed out?”

“Oooooh,” Peachy said, this time. “Well, I thought she had a piece with her when she came in, so I wrote it down, but after she took a look around the clubhouse and we showed her our super-fun puzzle …”

“ … We couldn’t find her piece!” Sunny finished. “She must have took it with her, until she could find more pieces. Just one piece would be all alone. That would be sad!”

“So sad,” Peachy agreed. “I don’t know what I’d do if it was just me, and not me and you, Sunny …” She sniffled, her eyes already getting huge and glassy.

“Awww, nooo,” Sunny pleaded. “Don’t even …! I can’t imagine!” She started choking up, too.

“Are they ALWAYS like this?” the puzzle asked with a swinging roll of its eyes.

“Pretty much,” Sweetie said. “Spike, can you keep an eye on those three while the rest of us head out?” Her eyes narrowed. “We’re late for school.”

Pip sighed. “Now you’ve got HER doing it!”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Diamond Tiara lounged on the forecastle of her wheeled pirate ship, idly nibbling on a bunch of grapes freshly liberated from the vineyard of Miss Cheerilee’s cousin.

“Captain Diamond, Ma’am!” A pale yellow colt in a striped shirt and spotted bandana trotted up and gave a salute.

“Hmm?” She swallowed a mouthful of grapes. “What is it?”

The colt pointed over his shoulder. “Cutie Mark Crusaders off the cardboard bow!”

“Starboard!” piped up a voice from down on the deck.

“Right, starboard!” the colt corrected himself.

The Captain got to her hooves and peered off the right side of her ship. There, cantering along at a fair clip out of the mouth of an alley, were the town’s top problem-solvers slash troublemakers. She frowned.

“I’ve come to a truce with those three,” she said with a slow nod. “As long as they don’t get in our way, just let them-” She froze. The same alley disgorged class weirdo Dinky, Dinky’s right-hoof filly Pinch, and their little exchange student friend. Her casual glance crumbled into a stormy scowl as she reached up to gingerly touch the tiny dent in the tiara perched on top of her deluxe captain’s hat. “Mister Creampuff!”

The colt snapped back to attention. “Yes, Captain!”

Diamond’s eyes shone with vengeance. “Load the cannons.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“Silver Spoon’s not thinking super clearly right now,” Sweetie said as the group galloped for the school. “We gotta handle her right if we want to get that piece!”

“That’s an understatement!” said Pip. “She’s gone positively barmy! We-”

A low thrum cut the air, and then an impact smashed Pip off his hooves in a burst of chunky crimson.

“PIP!” The Dink cried. She ducked as another thrum sent a projectile whooshing over her head. “Everypony, take cover!” She ducked low and dragged her fallen comrade behind a pile of heavy crates outside of a furniture shop. The others soon joined them.

“Omigosh! Is it bad?” Scootaloo asked, wide-eyed. “It looks bad!”

Pinch touched a hoof to the red mess on Pip’s side, and then cautiously tasted it. “Ugh. It IS bad. I HATE raspberry.”

“Uhhnn …” Pip’s eyelids fluttered. He raised his head. “What happened?” He rolled to one side and then shakily stood. Clods of jam plopped off his side.

“I’ll tell you what happened,” The Dink said with a scowl. “We’re in a jam.”

More of the bulging balloons rained down around them, bursting in splashes of sticky fruit preserves. In the distance, calls of yo-ho-ho and yah-hah-harr carried on the breeze. A few blocks away, the rolling silhouette of a wheeled galleon loomed.

Pinch sighed. “Shoot. It’s the pirates. Diamond must still be mad.”

“She ain’t the type to drop a grudge nice and easy,” Bloom said ruefully. “Believe me.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” The Dink rubbed the back of her neck with a hoof. “They’re faster than us in that ship, and they could have DOZENS of jam-bombs if they raided somewhere like Clover Café or Sugarcube Corner. We’re gonna hafta split up. I’ll take one group. Pinch, you take the other. They can’t chase us both. The lucky ones go to the school to get the last piece. The others keep Diamond busy and try not to get Majesty involved before we’re ready.”

The group shared a resolute nod, and then split into two teams. The Dink, Sweetie Belle and Apple Bloom took off eastwards, while Pinch, Scootaloo and Pip went west.

After a short pause, the cannon-fire tracked The Dink’s group. The ship shifted its sails to pursue them.

“Don’t stop!” Pinch shouted. “Looks like we’re up!”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The three of them took a wide, arcing route back toward the schoolyard, and they found the place bustling with well-managed activity. Recess was in full swing, with foals playing hopscotch, rolling balls to and fro in methodical, multi-player games of catch, and performing timed mock sprints in preparation for track and field trials that for now would never come.

Scootaloo pointed at a spot near the main doors. “There.”

Silver Spoon stood stiff-backed and firm, overseeing the orderly recreational period with a sash that read PLAYGROUND MONITOR draped across her chest.

“I didn’t know this school even had playground monitors,” Pip whispered as they approached.

“Before your time,” Pinch replied. “There was a cribbing problem a while back, and Miss Cheerilee had the schoolyard on lockdown for a couple months.”

The trio came up to Silver Spoon and sat facing her. Scootaloo took the lead.

“We’re here for the puzzle piece, Silver.”

Silver Spoon straightened her perfectly straight glasses with a touch of one hoof. “The lost-and-found box is accessible after school hours only.”

“But it isn’t lost,” Pip spoke up. “You have it — you had it when you visited the clubhouse!”

The playground monitor narrowed her eyes. “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied. “And besides, it’s quite clear that those two truants are engaged in … unsavoury activities unbecoming of proper young fillies.” She sniffed primly.

Pinch frowned. “Hay, everypony’s different. Don’t hate on Sunny and Peachy just because they’re a little-”

Scootaloo leaned in toward her. “I think she means the you-know-who thing.”

“Oh.” Pinch sighed. “Look, we REALLY don’t have time for this, Sil. We NEED that piece. Do you really want to end up locked up in Majesty’s freaky estate? Think! If she was ever gonna let the grown-ups out, why would she do that?”

Hairline cracks spread across Silver’s decorum like seams in an antique teacup. She inhaled sharply. “Miss Majesty said — in SONG, I might add — that the adults are away to learn to behave better. We just have to maintain good order until they return.”

“Aren’t you listening?” Scootaloo shot back. “They aren’t GONNA come back! Majesty wants to keep up all locked up, and we’ll never see our families again!”

Silver huffed, and adjusted her glasses again. “I’d have thought SOME of you would consider that a GOOD thing.” She gave Pinch a knowing, haughty glance.

Pinch’s swing bashed Silver right off her hooves, and smacked her cheek against the schoolhouse door as she fell. “Don’t … you … EVER!” Pinch snarled. Her blazing eyes were tight with held-back tears.

“Y-You HIT me …!” Silver whimpered, looking up from her ungainly sprawl on the ground. “The Cutie Mark Crusaders never hit me!” She touched the hoof-mark on her cheek and winced. “This is assault! Battery! ROUGHHOUSING!”

Pinch stomped up and stared down at her. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? TELL on me? To who?”

“To whom,” Silver corrected.

Pinch raised a hoof again. Silver cringed.

“Just give us the piece!” Pip pleaded. “Please! We can fix all of this! Everything can go back to normal!”

Silver’s eyes widened. She frowned as much as her darkening bruise would allow. “Normal? Ridiculous. Don’t you think I know what you’re planning? I was there, in the garden in Canterlot. I’d know that statue anywhere! You’re going to bring HIM back! After Majesty finally got rid of him!”

“He’s changed, Silver!” Scootaloo objected. “He’s …” She struggled to form the word better. “ … Not as bad!”

Finally, Silver’s glasses actually were in need of straightening. She set them right, and looked aside for a moment. “You … you really will get the town back to normal? Miss Cheerilee will come back?”

Pip nodded. “This can’t go on, Silver Spoon. You know it can’t. Majesty has done UNSPEAKABLE things.”

“All right. Fine,” Silver said with a sigh. “Wait here, please.” She got to her hooves, dusted off her sash, straightened her disheveled mane, and then called over another foal to take over monitoring duties while she went inside for a moment.

“I can’t believe you smacked her,” Scootaloo commented while they waited.

Pinch smirked. “I can’t believe none of you did.”

Silver soon emerged, silent and sullen, gripping the missing klack with her teeth as though it was a live insect. She let it drop and took a step back. “There. You’ve got what you wanted, you ruffians. Now get out of here.” She looked down and sniffled. “Recess is almost over.”

Pip offered a small smile of thanks and picked up the piece. He and the others turned and headed back toward the clubhouse.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Balloons rained down on all sides and burst in explosions of preserved fruit spread. The Dink, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle dodged strawberry shrapnel and gouts of marmalade as they galloped in serpentine sweeps across the wide, empty streets.

“C’mon!” Bloom urged. “They still ain’t outta bombs! RUN!”

The Dink panted raggedly. “I AM r-running!” Sweat shone on her purple-grey flanks. She saw a fresh salvo of balloons heading her way — round shadows grew from the size of coins to the size of saucers. She lit up her horn and focused on reaching up and back with nothing but those shadows to judge her aim, all while at full gallop.

Jackpot.

She staggered from the added exertion of safely catching three heavy jam-bombs with magic, but she more or less maintained her pace — with the addition of some bulging, rubbery cargo looming over her head.

“My legs are burning!” Sweetie said. “F-Feels like we’ve been running FOREVER!”

“Can’t be much longer!” Bloom said over her shoulder without slowing down. “Once they run out, we can-” A loose stone on the unswept street tripped Bloom up, and she tumbled to the ground. She barely gotten her bearings when the shadow of a bulging jam-bomb fell over her.

The Dink cried out and tried to reach with magic, but the load of the other balloons was already all she could handle.

The balloon glowed with lilac light and halted a few inches away from Bloom’s red-delicious coloured mane.

“Oh, no …” The Dink skidded to a halt. Her eyes widened.

From a nearby side-street, Majesty trotted over to the group with a worried cluck of her tongue. She magicked a half-dozen seized balloons into a neat pile, and approached the trio and their rolling pursuer.

“What’s all this?” she asked. Her eyes flicked to Bloom, and a wave of magic hoisted the dusty filly back up onto her hooves. “You’ve made quite a mess, here, my little Ponies. You haven’t been fighting, have you?” She eyed The Dink’s apparent arsenal of magicked balloons.

The casually concerned question made Sweetie Belle shiver. Her eyes narrowed. “What if we have? What’ll you do? KILL us?” She took a step toward the cheery, motherly, awful mare.

“Sweetie!” The Dink hissed. She tossed the floating balloons into a nearby water trough. “Not yet! What’re you doing?”

Majesty frowned. “What? Why, of course not!” she said. “What an ugly word! I would never hurt a Pony!”

“Uh-huh.” Sweetie grimaced to force herself not to cry again until the heat of her anger could cook off the tears. “Just everything else.” She took another step closer. “You won’t stop until we’re the only things left in the world.”

Two dozen feet up, the endless flow of building materials faltered slightly. “I don’t know where you learned such a troubling attitude, young filly,” Majesty replied, “but once Paradise Estate is finished I’m sure you’ll feel right as rain in no time. It’s not safe for a foal to be around monsters so often. I’m not surprised they’ve got you confused.”

“CONFUSED?” Sweetie let out a sharp, half-choked laugh. “When I’m confused, I go to my Mom and Dad for help. I go to my sister. I go to my teacher. I don’t go to some stranger. I go to them.” She trembled a little, and took a steadying breath. “So where are they, Majesty?” She moved closer again, now only a half-dozen steps away. “Where are they?”

Diamond Tiara and her pirates were up on the deck, staring down at the encounter. Other foals watched from windows and doorways all around.

Majesty’s eyes bounced from gaze to gaze. Her ears pinned back. “I … I already explained, all of the grown-ups are away, learning to treat you all better. It may take quite some time, that’s all.” Her back twitched. “You don’t want to be misbehaving when they come back ready to be nicer and happier Ponies, do you? They will be so disappointed …”

“Dang, this is bad,” Bloom whispered to The Dink. “We’re not ready for this. We gotta do somethin’ ...”

“I know, I’m thinking,” The Dink whispered back.

The firm warning from Majesty seemed to cow the crowd’s worrying for a moment, but then Diamond Tiara stepped up to the tip of the prow, right above the figurehead carved in her own likeness. “They will not,” she said sternly.

Majesty glanced up at the little pirate captain. “Excuse me?”

“When MY parents are actually happy, they let me do whatever I want!” Diamond stood stiffly, hooves planted on the deck. Set against all comers, with the legendary stubbornness of an only child. “If they saw me like this when they were in a good mood, they’d be bringing me fresh jam by the crate! So either you’re wrong … or you’re FIBBING.”

Scandalized murmurs swept through the onlooking foals.

“I’m not-”

“You ARE!” Sweetie pressed forward, now maybe three paces from the mare. “You’ve been lying about EVERYTHING! Acting like everything’s happy and nice, when you’re doing AWFUL things!” Sweetie couldn’t hold back her tears any longer. “You’re not Miss Majesty. You’re Pale Death.”

“That is ENOUGH, little one!” Majesty stomped the dusty ground. The planks and stones above halted their flight and gently came to rest, but her horn glowed brighter. “I knew the Ancients ruled once more, but I never thought they’d stoop to corrupting foals to spread their poisonous notions.You all need to understand that even if it may seem scary sometimes, I only do what I must.” Her horn blazed. All around, colours brightened. Some foals started tapping out a tempo with their hooves. “I know what’s best for you, my little Ponies.” She hummed to set a key, and the note resonated through reality.

I KNOW (WHAT’S BEST FOR YOU)

MAJESTY:

(Deep breath)

SWEETIE BELLE:

(Spoken)

NO!

Sweetie’s little horn glowed brightly. She dug in her hooves and clenched her teeth. “This is not .. what songs .. are for!” she snarled. “I won’t let you do this!” Magic shimmered across her musical-note Cutie Mark.

The crowd stumbled and cried out in alarm as the orderly rhythm soaking through the street and the surrounding houses rippled and flickered with dissonant sour-notes and off-tempo hitches. Flickers of Sweetie’s pale-green magic sparked through Majesty’s lilac glow like lightning in a storm cloud.

“Okay, this is REALLY bad!” The Dink said. She wobbled as the ground seemed to heave in two directions at once. “It’s goin’ off, and the plan's barely started! The big guy’s not even up yet!”

Majesty fixed Sweetie with the same cold, calculated confident gaze she’d focused on Gabby, Zecora and Twilight. “Song-magic is not a toy, little one,” she warned. “It is not invoked LIGHTLY.” She reared and came down in a double stomp, threw her head back, and then whipped it forward with a deafeningly loud hum.

The note poured down the street like a tidal wave, and smoothed the dissonance like boiling water spilled over ice.

Sweetie skidded backward from the push of Majesty’s power. She tensed from head to tail, horn glowing hot enough to threaten to singe her mane. Her defiant flickers were barely embers now. “S-Stop …”

“Think!” The Dink said as she pounded her temples with her hooves. “C’mon, think! New plan … new plan …”

“She doesn’t need a plan,” Bloom cried over the rising base-note. “She needs HELP!” She stomped forward, against the flow, and started forcing her way toward her trembling friend.

The Dink followed in her wake. “Or that, sure.”

Sweetie’s front hooves lifted off the ground, but before she could tumble backward, Apple Bloom pressed against her side and pushed her back down again. The Dink soon appeared on her other side. Both fillies offered supportive nods, and then hummed a higher, lighter note to counterpoint Majesty’s crushing force.

With backup singers, Sweetie did more with less. Her horn’s glow calmed, yet the dissonance, the resistance rose up with renewed vigour. She joined her friends with notes of her own. Magic rippled across their hides and The Dink’s horn.

“I won’t let you ruin the others!” Majesty shouted over the din. “I stand against the darkness!” In the songless moments it took to speak, the three fillies pushed their side of the music to a midway point and more. Their clear, crisp harmony spread, and the watching foals changed their hoof-tapping to match. Majesty scowled. Her horn glowed blindingly bright. She hummed with redoubled force, setting down a baseline melody in a crescendo building to come forth with crushing, unstoppable might.

And then, a light rain of small, brightly coloured marbles fell from the clear sky.

Majesty grimaced in confusion. “Wh-What … ?”

With a white flash above, Discord appeared in all his mismatched, serpentine glory. With a few more, Ruby Pinch, Pipsqueak, Scootaloo, Peachy Pie, Sunny Daze and Spike appeared flanking the trio below on either side.

“What’s happening?” Pinch asked.

“Song battle’s on!” The Dink shouted back. “Hop to!”

The group obliged, and the harmony grew denser.

Discord let out a playful chuckle as he donned a pair of shades against the glow of the musical clash below. “Sorry I’m late, I’m a sensitive soul, and it took me longer than expected to pull myself together.”

“DEMON! You return?” Majesty snarled up at him. “Your ilk never learn! I’ll scatter you so far you’ll-” The clash began to waver again, and the Unicorn staggered for a moment, nearly stumbling on the scattered marbles, before resuming her resonant humming.

Discord gave a playful chuckle, steepling his claws and talons. “When your song-magic is all tied up fighting these adorable little foals? I don’t think so. But me? Well, I’m not involved in the trouble at all, for once. I’m free to lend a hand.”

Majesty threw her will and her voice into her magic, and the row opposing her faltered back a pace. “Spare me your lies! I may not know you, but I know your kind! Chaos spirits NEVER serve order!”

A snaggle-toothed smile overflowing with mischief cracked Discord’s long, long face. “Of course. But what could be more CHAOTIC than toppling the only authority figure in an entire town?” He raised his eagle-talon hand, and gave an echoing finger-snap.

Blazing, seething magic struck Sweetie Belle’s horn like a lightning bolt, and the power coursed outward to join every foal in town in a crackling web of energy. Their eyes lit up like lanterns, and as dozens of voices joined the chorus, it was Majesty’s turn to falter.

“No!” she screamed over the echoing harmony. “You mustn’t! Don’t give in! Don’t-”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Swaths of deep blue and grey and purple cast the town in evening shades. The sky turned starry, and a phantom image of a towering alabaster palace covered the town hall.

The foals slowly gathered, forming concentric circles around the central group and their lone adult opponent. They all hummed, eyes glowing, sharing the power and burden of the song between them.

Majesty shrank back, her bottom lip quivering, and turned away as Sweetie stepped forward to solemnly begin a hymn-like melody:

THE LAST QUEEN

Inspired by the Song of Durin, by J.R.R. Tolkien

SWEETIE BELLE:

A Queen she was, and ruled alone,

the rightful heir to Ancients’ throne.

APPLE BLOOM:

(Joins on Sweetie’s left side)

With mystic treasures close at hoof,

beneath Dream Castle’s spired roof

(Illusions of Griffons, Dragons, Monsters, and other Creatures

appear on a march toward the castle)

SCOOTALOO:

(Joins on Sweetie’s right side)

Her horn with lilac fire burned,

to see all foes of Ponies turned

SPIKE:

(Moves to stand next to Apple Bloom)

To living wood or ocean foam,

then added to her Horror Tome.

(An apparition of a large, heavy book sweeps through the area,

snapping like jaws to snatch up the creatures)

Majesty shot upright again when she realized where the song was headed. “No! I won’t allow this!” Her horn reignited, and she fixed her stance. But her eyes only lit up in fitful flickers before her efforts crumbled.

“Looks like you can’t steal THIS song, Majesty” Sweetie said before the next verse. Her glowing eyes narrowed to a bitter glare. “It’s already yours.”

FOAL CHORUS:

(Stomps a rhythmic backbeat, joins in on all subsequent lines)

DINKY HOOVES:

(Stands at Spike’s left)

The pages swelled the more she smote,

and of each triumph gravely wrote;

RUBY PINCH:

(Stands at Dinky’s left)

The Griffon King to coins she'd gild;

though not a drop of blood was spilled.

(Phantom coins scatter across the ground in a splatter shape,

each stamped with the face of a panicked Griffon)

PIPSQUEAK:

(Stands at Scootaloo’s right)

A statue garden did she make,

of Dragon, Basilisk and Drake,

(Countless statues of raging beasts rise up in rows, like an endless graveyard)

SUNNY DAZE & PEACHY PIE:

(Stand at Pip’s right, stare in accusation)

of Timberwolf and Cragodile;

She petrified them with a smile.

Majesty pressed her back to a home’s front wall as the clawing, grasping shadows of the statues seemed to reach out to her. Her chest heaved with panicked breaths, and her pupils were pinpricks. “We were so few!” she pleaded. “Ponykind was on the brink of oblivion! I couldn’t risk more losses! Not a single one!”

(Ghostly Ponies frolic and dance among the statues)

PIPSQUEAK:

Though happy songs the Ponies sang,

and through Dream Valley freedom rang,

(Charts, scrolls, books, a crystal ball, runes, bones, cards,

and other mystic tools fan out from Majesty in a broad spread)

RUBY PINCH:

The Queen consulted glass and seer;

One foe she could not best was fear.

“Enough!” Majesty scattered the phantom props with a sweep of her hoof and ignited her horn again, but to no avail. The chanting and the tempo remained untouched. She trembled, and met the lead foals’ gleaming gazes in turn. “Please! No more!” Her voice slipped into a choked, ragged whimper. “Blinnaþ! Áre! Ic bidde eow, āriaþāriġaþ …” She raised her head, scattering out sparkling tears, and spread out a massive wave of magic.

All around the chanting, stomping foals, taller shadows formed in the gloom of the songscape. One by one, mothers and fathers, aunts and uncles, siblings and strangers, the Ponies returned to Ponyville.

Although they were still caught up in the melody, the foals smiled in relief. Some nuzzled against a parent’s side, or leaned back into an older sibling’s offered hug.

But the song pressed on. A warm, deep richness soaked into the music as adults joined the foal chorus.

“No!” Majesty sobbed. “I gave you what you wanted! Make it stop!”

Up above, silhouetted by the glow of a false moon shading the sun, Discord slowly shook his head. “Now, now, Your Highness. You know better than that. Ponies don’t leave songs half-sung …” His cruel grin split a crescent hole in his shadowy form. Down below, the song resumed.

DINKY HOOVES:

The portents dire, the Queen foretold

a coming age of endless cold;

(Phantom Windigos streak through the area, leaving it covered in snow)

SPIKE:

She saw across time’s warp and weft,

of great Dream Valley, nothing left.

(The illusory kingdom sinks down into a featureless snowscape,

and a single loose, ragged banner flutters on the frigid wind)

SCOOTALOO:

No deadly kindness at her call,

could stop the kingdom’s coming fall.

(Looming, menacing shadows surround Majesty,

towering until she seems tiny in comparison)

APPLE BLOOM:

For once in years of bloodless strife,

the Queen felt fear for her own life.

SWEETIE BELLE:

(Approaches Majesty, voice rising in volume and intensity)

She fled by spell, shame buried deep

in craven, timeless, dreamless sleep!

As the mystical music faded and the spell of the moment broke, the town was once more bathed in blinding sunshine. The newly arrived adults burst into confused, urgent murmuring, talking amongst themselves and with the foals all around them.

Sweetie Belle’s knees wobbled as the electric rush of magic and adrenaline faded. She turned away from the cringing, whimpering Unicorn before her — and came face to face with Mom and Dad.

“Well hay there, punkin,” Dad said with a broad grin. “I don’t wanna getcha worried, ya know, but it seems like somethin’ a little weird has been-”

Sweetie leaped forward and buried her face against his tropical-pattern-shirt-covered chest. Confused or not, Mom and Dad were right on cue with an enveloping, soothing, all-healing hug.

All around, there were tearful reunions and excited explanations and silent, long-delayed embraces.

The Dink let out the breath she’d been holding since her last lyrics and sagged wearily. “Oof. This one’s goin’ in the Secret Files, for sure.” Just then, a high, wavering voice behind her made her stiffen:

“Gee, looks like I missed out on the fun this time, lil’ Muffin …”

For a moment The Dink stayed where she was, taking in every detail of the winged, mussy-maned shadow cast over her. She slowly turned, calm and cool and dignified, and finally met the skewed golden gaze she’d missed more than she’d ever be gooey enough to confess.

Well, maybe just this once.

“MOM!” She dangled from Derpy’s neck like a pendant, scrambling for purchase until the mare sat and held and snuggled and nuzzled her precious foal.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Meanwhile, Majesty huddled against the wall she’d backed into, softly sobbing. Moments later, though, her horn shimmered and her ears twitched as she heard and felt nearby bursts of potent magic. She sniffled back her tears and looked up in time to see the Ancient ruler approaching, flanked by the Griffon and Zebra she’d imprisoned earlier, now restored to life.

“Queen Majesty,” Twilight Sparkle said sternly. “We need to talk.”

The Queen took a slow, steadying breath and then dried her eyes with a foreleg. She stood, straight and proud, and faced judgment with grace. “Quite so. No more cause for secrecy. My shame is laid bare for all to see.” She looked aside.

A few yards away, Scootaloo waved and hopped and gestured as she told her aunts about what they’d missed. Just past them, Ruby Pinch hugged her mother Berry Punch so tightly that the mare’s eyes bulged.

Majesty hung her head. “When the ultimate danger arose, I lost my nerve, and fled into a mystic void rather than see my people’s doom.” She sighed. “And now here I am, released by meddling relic thieves, and finding myself in a darkling future. It seems Ponykind survived only by submitting once more to the rule of tyrant horrors. My failure is absolute. I deserve whatever cruel torments you’ve devised for me.” A tear tracked down her pale cheek.

Gabby the Griffon frowned. “Huh. In the legends, she’s not so … sad?”

Twilight took a step closer to Majesty. “Alicorns didn’t save Pony civilization, Majesty. Ponies did. The Windigos drove us out of Old Ponyland, but then a brave group of Ponies from every tribe came together and drove them off with the power of friendship. The Alicorns who rule in Canterlot came much later, and you don’t need to fear them. They’re kind and good. They raise and lower the sun and moon for us!”

“Ponies … saved themselves ...” Majesty glanced up into the golden sunlight. She blinked. “Wait. Canterlot? Is that what you call your crystal palace?”

Twilight shook her head. “Canterlot is the capital of Equestria, the new Pony homeland. It’s a few days’ trot from here, up on a mountaintop.”

“But …” Majesty looked left and right. Her brows furrowed. “I … is this not all? This city-state is so vast. How can there be more? I thought I’d surely sent away every Pony who might know of my shame …”

“Vast?” Gabby tilted her head. “Ponyville’s just a cozy little farm-town!”

Zecora chuckled under her breath. “While for ages you were gone, the Ponies grew to MILLIONS strong.”

Majesty sat down heavily. “M-Millions?”

With a flash of reddish-purple magic, Twilight called up a floating image of the map of Equestria. “Like I said, Your Highness — we need to talk. You have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Yes.” Majesty took in the sight of dozens of families, great multitudes, in cheery reunion. She looked at the map, dotted with Pony cities like stars in the night sky. “Yes … it seems that I do.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

THREE DAYS LATER

Ruby Pinch took a moment to lean out the schoolhouse window with her front hooves up on the sill. A white stick jutted from her lips, and a dry cloud puffed out when she gave a coughing exhale.

“Careful, that stuff’s bad for your lungs.”

Dinky “The Dink” Hooves popped up into view outside, and offered a sympathetic smile.

“Heh. Tell me about it.” Pinch set down the chalk and sighed. “All I taste is dust! Wish she’d just let me magic the thing, sheesh.”

Behind her, the blackboard was covered in five dozen copies of the words I WILL NOT HIT OTHER PONIES in shaky, clumsy mouth-writing.

“Wouldn’t be fair to Pegasi and Earth Ponies in detention, I guess,” The Dink said with a shrug. “It’s total hooey you’re in there, by the way. I know I said it before, but still! I can’t believe that little jerk ratted you out after we saved the whole town!”

Pinch rolled her eyes. “Yeah. Rules are rules, though, I guess. No fighting on school grounds, no exceptions. Silver got me on a technicality. But hay, if they let up every time THIS town was in danger, might as well not have rules at all, amirite?” She gave a wry smile and held out a hoof.

“True that.” Pinch bumped the offered hoof with hers.

The imprisoned filly rolled her neck to let out a few cracks and pops, and then coughed out one more puff of chalk-dust. “Hay, that reminds me — I’ve been out of the loop with detention and bein’ grounded and all. Who ended up getting your comics?”

“Uh …” The Dink fidgeted a little. Her voice dropped in volume. “ … Rumble.”

“Oh-hoh!” Pinch replied with a sly grin. “Maybe if you play your cards right, he’ll invite you over to read them together? Eh? Eh?”

The Dink gave a mock scowl. “Shut up.”

“I’ll be your best mare, woooo ...” Pinch crooned, cradling her chin on her hooves and fluttering her eyelashes. She kissed the air with little smacking sounds.

“So help me, I will brick you up in that schoolhouse, Pinch.”

Pinch giggled, and feigned terror. “Noooo! For the love of Celestia, Monterufolino!” She laughed harder, and The Dink soon joined her in spite of herself.

“So, any other news?” Pinch asked once they’d both calmed down. “Miss Cheerilee’s gonna be back from getting her tea any second.”

The Dink shook her head. “Nothing much. Majesty’s still way off in Somnambula studying history — out of our jurisdiction. That fire toad turned out to be just a red frog, but it was still pretty big, so that was kinda cool. I hear Princess Twilight’s figuring out what to do with that nearly-finished building Majesty left in her backyard, guess we’ll see about that soon. Once you’re out next week, though, it’s only a couple more weeks until Nightmare Night. Prime spook season. We could totally do a seance.”

“Awesome.” Pinch smiled and gave a resolute nod. “Count me in.” The two shared one last hoof-bump, and then Pinch picked up her chalk and turned back as Miss Cheerilee’s approaching hoofsteps sounded outside. “Gotta go! See ya!”

Super-cool mystery hunter The Dink pressed against the schoolhouse wall to stay out of sight, and then crept away in search of her next adventure.

Or, failing that, some new comic books.

THE END

Perspective

Sweetie Belle, Ruby Pinch and Spike all ran out of endurance at about the same time. The group staggered and gasped to a stop a dozen yards from Fluttershy’s rustic cottage on the edge of town.

“Omigosh…” Sweetie wheezed. “I h-haven’t run that long since battle-tag last year!”

Spike looked back the way they came. “Do you think the others are okay?”

“No sign that Majesty would hurt a Pony,” Pinch replied with a shrug. After rolling her neck and heaving a deep breath or two, she added: “ … Yet.”

“They’ll be okay,” Sweetie said firmly. “They’ve gotta be.”

“We got away with the books you wanted,” Spike added. “That counts for something, right?”

“It counts for everything,” Pinch said. “There’s something we’re missing about all this, I can feel it. Dink felt it, too. That’s why she —” She swallowed hard. “That’s why she did what she did.” She nodded ahead, and the group followed her toward the cottage. “Fluttershy’s place is pretty out of the way. Maybe we can hole up here?”

She approached the closest open window and reared up to peer inside.

Two weasels, a barn owl, a beaver, three rabbits and a bear all rushed into the narrow space, snarling and growling and hooting at the interloper.

Pinch tumbled backward, cringing tight. “... Okay, maybe not.” While the animals drew back into the cottage, Pinch turned to Spike. “Can you talk to them? You’re an —”

Spike frowned. “I’m a what?”

“Uh, a friendly guy?” Pinch chuckled tensely.

The little Dragon sighed. “No good anyway. I actually kinda do understand snakes and lizards and stuff, but without Fluttershy we’re outta luck with those animals.”

“Where else can we go?” Sweetie lamented. “We’ve run out of Ponyville! The middle of town is too busy, and there’s nothing left on the outskirts this side before the Everfree Forest!”

Pinch slowly cracked a wide grin. “Sounds good.”

Spike’s slit-pupiled eyes went wide. “Y-You want us to hide in the Everfree Forest?”

“Majesty said we aren’t supposed to go in there,” Pinch replied. “It’s the perfect place! I mean, apart from all the deadly monsters and killer plants and wild weather and, like, quicksand and stuff.”

Sweetie’s eyes suddenly brightened. “Zecora!”

“Bless you,” said Pinch.

Sweetie frowned. “No! Zecora the Zebra! Remember, she told spooky stories on Nightmare Night? She LIVES in the Everfree Forest!”

“If there are still grownups in Canterlot…” Pinch said.

Spike punched the air. “Zecora might still be around, too!” He turned to face the gloomy, vine-wreathed expanse of woods. He swallowed hard. “... All we have to do it get to her house in one piece. Does anypony know the way? I’ve never found my way there alone.”

“No problem!” Sweetie said with a wave of her hoof. “Apple Bloom goes there all the time! She … can …” She trailed off as her eyes fell on the empty space next to her which would usually have contained her two fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders. A frown creased her face. “Oh.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

The Dink walked the long, narrow corridor with Scootaloo by her side. Majesty brought up the rear. Ahead, high-pitched sobbing and screaming leaked out around a sturdy wooden door.

“This is necessary,” Majesty said softly. “You’re the clever ones. You’re responsible. It’s for the greater good.”

“I knew the risks when I took the mission,” The Dink said without looking back. “I’m not afraid.”

“Yeah. I…” Scootaloo’s wings and bottom lip quivered. “D-Dink, what if they pull out my feathers?” Her eyes shone, threatening to well up with tears.

The Dink’s jaw stiffened. “That’s not gonna happen.”

The door loomed large. It shimmered with Majesty’s purple-white magic, unlocked itself and then creaked wide. The shrieks and cries doubled in volume. Both fillies squinted against the far brighter light in the chamber beyond.

A wave of magic gently but firmly pushed the pair into the room. Their hooves skidded on the floor, but there was no bracing against the force. “Now, then. You play nice, understand? I’ll check in on you later.”

The Dink and Scootaloo came to a stop on a thin, stained rug. The mad cacophony was all around them.

“If you’re scared, don’t let them see it,” The Dink cautioned. “They can smell fear.”

Scootaloo nodded. “I wish I still had my helmet.”

In the room before them, twenty-five baby and toddler foals wriggled and chewed and drooled and cried and fussed. As the door closed and locked itself, fifty bright, beady little eyes locked on the new caretakers.

The Dink sighed. “I picked the wrong day to leave Mister Lucky Ducky at home.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

In the town square, the new theme was tea-parties. Groups of fillies, the occasional colt, and assorted seat-filling stuffed toys were treated to sunny weather, fresh crumpets and dainty little cookies while enjoying their tea.

“ … It’s not that I’m upset that WE didn’t get labelled the ringleaders and put on foalsitting duty to keep us busy,” Pipsqueak continued, “it’s just that I put a lot of effort into my studies, and Scootaloo and Dinky …” He trailed off as years of Trottingham etiquette training left him with no viable course forward. Instead, he shrugged meaningfully and took a sip of tea.

Across the circular table, Apple Bloom frowned. “Scootaloo just learns better on the go, that’s all. It’s a Pegasus thing. And anyways, we oughta count ourselves lucky Majesty didn’t-” A high-pitched and excited conversation cut Bloom off.

“Oh, Peachy! That’s so amazing!”

“Thanks, Sunny! I’m so proud!”

Bloom glared over her shoulder at them. “As I was sayin’ …”

Sunny and Peachy’s shrill delight drowned her out completely. Again.

“How did you do it? It’s incredible!”

“I just started drawing, and here we are! But you helped, Sun-Sun! You kept the paper steady!”

“Aww, anytime, Peach! I just love watching you draw!”

Bloom plodded over to the Earth Pony fillies’ table, followed by Pip. “Peachy Pie. Sunny Daze. We’re having kind of an important talk, here. Do ya think you could keep it down, a bit?”

“If it’s not too much of a bother!” added Pip. He stepped closer to the two sunshine-coloured fillies’ table. “What’s got you two so excited, anyway? A drawing? Mind if I have a-” Pip reared up to peer at the paper. What he saw made him cry out in shock.

“Pip? What is it?” Bloom reared up to stand by his side and examine the paper. “ … Sweet Celestia!”

Sunny’s drawing was a crude rendition of Princess Twilight Sparkle in pink and purple and fuchsia crayon. The stick-legged, fan-winged Alicorn was moving around on the page by itself.

“Peel ‘n’ core me!” Bloom whispered. “How did ya do that?”

“I dunno!” Peachy replied. “Like I said, I just started drawing, to make something to give to Princess Twilight as a gift for when she got back from her trip, and then it started moving by itself!”

Pip leaned a little closer to the clumsy drawing. “Princess Twilight? Can… can you hear me?”

The tiny Princess trotted toward the foreground until she was much larger, sat down, and then gestured at her dot-eyed face with her irregular hooves.

Bloom narrowed her eyes. “Peachy, draw the mouth.”

“Wait…!” Sunny said.

Everypony froze.

Sunny nudged the others aside and got back into position holding down the sides of the paper. “Okay, I’ve got you covered, Peachy!”

“Thanks, Sunny!”

“Think nothing of it!”

Pip frowned. “Would you please...?”

Peachy picked up her dark purple crayon in her teeth and carefully applied a slash of a mouth to the doodle.

It opened wide at once, and jumbled squeaks came out. The foals strained to hear, but as their heads touched from leaning so close to the paper, their focused expressions slackened into disappointment.

“She’s just babbling!” Pip said. “I can’t make out a word of it!”

Bloom tapped her chin while she watched the squeaking Princess wave her hooves and spread her crooked wings and flick her rigid tail. “Hmm. Somethin’s definitely weird, here.” She sighed. “What would Dinky and Pinch do about this?”

“Well,” Pip considered, “I suppose they’d try and investigate it?”

Bloom nodded. “And that’s exactly what we’re gonna do.” She turned to their cheerful classmates. “Sunny. Peachy. How would you two like to bring that drawing to the clubhouse and help solve a mystery?”

“Gosh, I’m not sure,” Sunny replied. “It won’t be a scary mystery, will it?”

“We don’t like scary mysteries,” Peachy said. The two of them leaned closer to each other for comfort.

Pip and Bloom shared a sidelong stare, and then turned the same neutral gaze at the two fillies.

“Nope,” said Bloom. “It will not be scary at all, I reckon.” She spoke as if reading off a card.

“It will be just fine, most likely,” added Pip, just as awkwardly.

Peachy and Sunny were silent for the span of two blinks, and then burst into a shared “YAY!”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Sweetie squealed as she lost the last of her traction and slid down the mud-slicked slope. Pinch tried to catch her with magic, but the head-swing to bring her horn to bear made her start sliding as well. Spike watched the two Unicorn fillies drop for half a second before shrugging and diving belly-first after them.

The uneven sunlight peeking through the dense canopy of the Everfree Forest strobed over the group as they slid. They came to a filthy but unharmed stop in a boggy lowland basin. Sweetie popped up from a mud puddle and spit out a mouthful of muck with a sour grimace. “Well, we did wanna get down here, anyway,” she said. “At least we saved some time?”

Pinch wiped the mud out of her eyes with a foreleg and spoke while checking to make sure the books in her mud-caked saddlebags were intact. “That’s the spirit. Positive attitude is important in a survival situation. Helps keep you alert, in case of swamp monsters.”

“Swamp monsters?” Spike perked up. “What KIND of swamp monsters?”

Pinch smirked. “Do you REALLY want me to list them all?”

Spike and Sweetie both shook their heads.

“Zecora’s supposed to have a home built into a big swamp tree, right?” Pinch slowly turned a circle, examining the area. “Well, it won’t be up on high ground, all the hills are too narrow. And it won’t be in the water, Zecora wouldn’t want to live knee-deep in mud. So, we’re looking for a low, flat chunk of dry land. Probably not too far from here. We just need to stay calm, and keep our eyes peeled for deep water, giant bugs, snakes—”

“Cragodiles...!” Spike interjected.

“Oh, totally!” Sweetie agreed.

“NO!” Spike frantically pointed and waved back toward the slope they’d just slid down. “Cragodiles! OVER THERE!”

Two of the long, low, bulky beasts were heaving themselves up to the top of the hill, and soon teetered at the tipping point. Their streamlined bodies would no doubt make the slide twice as quickly as the trio had.

“Aw, shoot!” Pinch grunted. “Musta been tracking us! RUN! Stay out of the water!”

The three of them turned and bolted into the swamp just as the massive reptiles rocketed down the slippery hill.

With fleeing prey to focus on, the cragodiles charged as quickly as their stubby legs could carry them. Every patch of muddy land bogged down their progress, but every span of water gave them a hefty speed boost. Within a minute they were close enough that Sweetie, Pinch and Spike could hear their ragged, growling breaths behind them.

“Look!” Spike cried out. “Up ahead! I think that’s it!”

“HURRY!” Sweetie screamed. She galloped full-tilt, eyes down, leading with her little horn. “Almost there!”

Ahead, a wide patch of vividly blue flowers separated the fleeing trio from the pursuing beasts. Spike’s eyes went wide. “Oh, No…! Don’t touch those flowers! We gotta jump ‘em!”

Pinch took in the broad field with a panicked wince. “We’ll never make it over!”

“No choice!” Spike cried. “On three! One… two…!”

Three came at the edge of the patch. Sweetie, Spike and Pinch leaped hard enough to kick up divots, soaring over the swaying blossoms. The world slowed down at they dived and the cragodiles rampaged into the flowers.

The three of them tumbled to a landing on the far side of the patch. The cragodiles didn’t.

Sweetie picked herself up and shook off a faceful of moist soil. “Whah…? Where’d they go?”

Pinch lay on her side, catching her breath. “Hahh… d-dunno…”

Spike popped up from the ruins of a shattered clay vase. “Ow.”

Back in the flowers, one of the cragodiles rose into view. It was now barely Spike’s size, but also bloated as round as a party balloon. As it slowly rose skyward, the other beast leaped up to snap at it. It was now twice as long and a tenth the width, thinner than a garter snake. Balloon and string both floated off on the swamp-scented breeze, wriggling feebly.

“So, uh, good call on the flowers,” Pinch said.

Before Spike could answer, the tree-home’s rounded door swung wide, and the Zebra they’d been searching for stepped out into the dappled light. She frowned in concern. “What gives you young ones cause to roam as far as coming to my home?”

Spike brushed broken pottery off his shoulders. “It’s a long story.”

Pinch nodded. “But you REALLY need to hear it.”

“Can we come in?” Sweetie added. “Please?”

Zecora’s only reply was a warm smile as she stepped aside from the open doorway.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“GET IT OFF ME! AAHGH!” Scootaloo leaped and bucked as an Earth Pony baby gripped her neck with all four of his legs and gnawed on her left ear. “Ow! Knock it off!”

“Little busy!” The Dink shouted back as she backed into a corner on her hind legs. She had her saddlebags and the important investigative tools they contained hoisted high, out of reach of drooling, gumming, teething jaws.

Scootaloo scraped the baby off by rubbing against a large teddy bear sitting in the opposite corner. She leaped to dodge two more infants lunging in to take his place. “Sh-Sheesh…! Do they do ANYTHING apart from chew on stuff?”

The Dink glanced down at the many visible diapers. “Nothing good.”

“This isn’t gonna work,” Scootaloo lamented. “We can’t keep this up, and if we tire out they’ll take us down for sure! We need to distract them with something!”

“Like what?” The Dink snapped back. “We can only handle giving bottles to a couple of them at a time, and the rest will get the drop on us while we do that! How am I supposed to get the attention of a whole herd of-” She caught herself. A cunning gleam shone in her eyes, and she took a deep breath to let out a hearty bellow: “Hay, you babies! Do you like … STORYTIME?”

The whole swarm stopped and stared, frozen save for the slow oozing of drool here and there.

The Dink cracked a smile. “Y-Yeah, that’s right!” she continued. “Why don’t I tell you all a really cool story while Scootaloo gets the bottles ready?” She stared pointedly at her comrade on those last few words.

Scootaloo’s relieved smile wilted. “What? Me? Why do I hafta…?”

“Hay, if you got any stories memorized, be my guest.”

The Pegasus rolled her eyes. “You win this round.” She spoke up, and put on a cheery tone. “Ooh! Ooh! What’s the story, Dinky-winky? What’s the story?”

The Dink glared at the nickname, but took it in stride. “Well, let’s see! I could tell you the Dark Tale of The Doomed…” She paused. “Uh, wait. I mean, the Grim Account of The Screaming… um...” Sweat beaded on her forehead. “Or The Legend of The Bloody… ah...” She frowned.

“What’s the hold up?” Scootaloo pressed as she fumbled a load of empty baby bottles toward the icebox in one corner. “They’re losing interest!”

The Dink fidgeted in place. “Most of my stories aren’t safe for babies! They’ll freak out if I tell them!”

Scootaloo sighed in frustration. “Didn’t your mom tell you any nice stories when you were little?”

A faint blush coloured The Dink’s cheeks. “I … I guess, yeah. There’s one, at least.”

“Tell it!” Scootaloo pressed. “PLEASE!”

The Dink sagged in defeat. “ … Fine.” She took a slow, deep breath, and then focused on the crowd once more. “Okay … let me tell you a really old story that my granny told my mom when she was little, and then she told it to me when I was little.” The Dink sat down and shimmied a bit close to the now rapt herd of infants. She cleared her throat, and then began.

“Once upon a time, long long ago, a little duckling was very sad because he thought he was the ugliest amongst all his brothers and sisters…”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

While foals raced and shouted and played in the town square, a table in one corner was reserved for business.

The Earth Pony filly swished her multi-coloured tail and frowned. “Do you have the gingersnaps with you? Are they already baked?”

Apple Bloom frowned back. “We’re good for it, Toola Roola. Apples always keep their word. Now, can you do some art for us, or not?”

Toola huffed and raised her chin. “Hmph! Of course I can DO it! It’s not about skills. It’s about … integrity!”

Bloom raised an eyebrow. “How’s that, now?”

“I am an artiste!” Toola said with the firm press of a front hoof to her chest. She put a Prench accent on the word. “I won’t take a commission, even for the most delicious kind of cookies, unless I feel inspired by the request.”

Bloom picked up her cup and took a sip of tea before responding. “We need you to fix up a magical living portrait of Princess Twilight Sparkle so we can talk to it.”

Toola had sipped her tea shortly after Bloom did, and she made a heroic effort not to choke on the mouthful as Bloom explained the situation. She swallowed hard and put down her cup. “I see. Yes. Well.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I guess I could give it a try. But I expect a full baker’s dozen for my trouble.”

“Done an’ done. Pleasure doin’ business with you.” Bloom gave a firm nod, and then spit on her right hoof and offered it to seal the deal.

Toola draped her napkin over her own hoof before obliging. “Quite.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Spike, Pinch and Sweetie, now freshly scrubbed with herb-infused water and air-drying on cushion-like patches of soft moss, sat in a semicircle around the books they’d risked so much to retrieve. Spike and Pinch flipped through pages in search of answers, while Sweetie explained their plight to their hostess.

“ … And just like that, she … she turned Gabby to stone.” Sweetie’s eyes lowered. “She didn’t even care. She might as well have been swatting a horsefly.” She stifled a shudder. “We decided to look up Griffon history because of the things Gabby said. She knew Majesty was bad news.” After a pause, Sweetie made sure to mention this time: “She called her Blue Flowers Five.”

Zecora stood nearby, smoothly stirring a cauldron of nourishing root stew. She slowly nodded as she glanced out a round window with a view of the patch of Poison Joke blossoms. “Blue flowers can be a source of woe, it’s true. I’m so sorry this trouble has come to you.” She gave the bubbling concoction another stir.

“It’s okay,” Spike said. “If we can get some answers, maybe we can start to figure this out.”

They were all silent for a time. The crackling fire under the cauldron, the bubbling of the stew and the whisper of turning pages were the only sounds.

Pinch’s exclamation went off like a firecracker: “FOUND IT!”

Spike and Sweetie tumbled off their moss-pads in shock. Zecora stiffened but stayed upright. All three crowded in to look at Pinch’s discovery. Their eyes darted back and forth over the faded, archaic script.

“No way …” Spike said softly. “Oh, that’s horrible!” He partly shielded his eyes with his claws.

“No WONDER Gabby was so scared!” Sweetie added.

Pinch narrowed her eyes. “Zecora, will you come with us back to Ponyville? I know it’s risky, but we … we kinda really need a grown-up right now.”

“Go back?” Spike asked. “Already? But we just got here!”

Pinch nodded. “These stories are ancient, but if Majesty is even RELATED to a Pony this bad, every foal in town is in danger. We’ve got to do something.” Her hard expression slowly softened, betraying a trace of anxiety.

Zecora moved closer and rested a hoof on Pinch’s shoulder. “For Ponyville, no risk’s too great. I’d be happy to infiltrate. We’ll go and learn what Majesty’s plotting while we avoid her watchful spotting.”

“All right!” Sweetie said with her first genuine smile in some time.

Spike said nothing, since he was busy soothing his worries with a large helping of stew.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Apple Bloom, Pipsqueak, Sunny Daze and Peachy Pie all sat in a semicircle in the CMC clubhouse, staring at Toola Roola staring at an easel. The crude drawing of the Princess was taped onto a blank canvas, with Twilight currently motionless. A plate of fresh gingersnaps sat on a low stool next to Toola, and a wet brush jutted out of her mouth.

After another minute or two, Bloom frowned and turned to whisper to Pip. “She still hasn’t done anything!”

“I’m not certain how long paintings usually take, to be honest,” Pip offered with a shrug. “Perhaps this is normal?”

“Now I’m whispering, too!” Sunny said to Peachy while cupping her hooves to her mouth. Her volume barely dropped; more stage-whisper than regular.

“Oh! Oh! Let me try!” Peachy stage-whispered back. “I’m speaking very, VERY quietly!”

Toola stiffened. “Do you MIND? I can hear all of you, you know.”

“I’m sorry, we don’t mean to rush you,” Pip said.

“It’s just we’ve kinda got a situation goin’ on here in town, in case ya didn’t notice,” added Bloom. “We really need your help.”

Toola inhaled to retort but then froze, wide-eyed. “Yes! That’s it!” She whirled back around and immediately began to paint in bold, sweeping brush-strokes.

“Guess she found her inspiration.” Bloom whispered.

Once the work finally began, it proceeded at a frantic pace. Toola’s Cutie Mark all but glowed as she plied her destined trade. Little by little, splashes of colour coated the clumsy crayon doodle, adding definition and details. A poker-straight, striped mane. A tastefully regal coronation dress. The Crown of Harmony. And the bright-eyed, smiling face of the world’s second-youngest Alicorn.

The moment Toola dabbed a final speck of white as a gleam in the Princess’s eye, the painted eyelids fluttered in startled blinks.

Toola cried out in shock and stumbled backward. Her brush clattered on the wooden floor.

After a few moments more, the upgraded portrait melted and flowed to life on the paper, and Princess Twilight Sparkle shook her head to clear it.

Bloom stepped closer to the living art. “Princess…! Princess Twilight! Can ya hear us?”

Twilight squinted in confusion. “Huh…? Oh! Cwēn Mǣrþu! Géowine! Ic ācnāwan nā …”

“Hee hee! She’s talking silly!” said Sunny.

“Ooh! Fun!” said Peachy. “Let’s all try! Gabba hooba bloop bloop!” She rolled and crossed her eyes.

Toola glared sidelong at the pair. “It’s not silly talk, it’s Old Ponish!”

“You can tell?” Pip asked. “What’s she saying?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I never learned, I’ve just heard it being sung at the opera a lot.”

“Princess?” Bloom said, a little louder than the group’s past whispering. “Twilight, do you recognize us?”

The painted Princess squinted again, and a sharper brightness slowly lit up in her depthless eyes.

“Girls…? Pipsqueak?” She gasped. “Oh…! Majesty! Where’s Majesty?”

“She’s not around,” Pip said. “You’re safe here.”

Twilight frowned. “Hmm. That’s too bad.”

Bloom raised an eyebrow. “Too bad? How’s that, now? She blew up the train and locked you all away!”

Twilight smiled. “It’s nice of you foals to worry about me, but everypony’s fine here, I’m sure. This is obviously a stable adimensional phase-space with a two-dimensional boundary matrix.” When the young Ponies all stared blankly, she added: “Um, it’s pretty much an empty white void unless you have a flat likeness of yourself to make contact with the outside world. Your parents and everypony else are safe, and unless somepony’s speaking directly to a picture of them on a blank background, they aren’t even feeling the time pass.”

“That’s a … relief?” Bloom said. She looked to the others.

Pip nodded. “....Yes, I believe so? At least they safe and they aren’t worrying about us.” He looked up at Twilight again. “Princess Twilight, why did you want Majesty to be here? Isn’t she the one behind all these troubles?”

Twilight sighed. “Yes. And no. This is all just a big misunderstanding. You see, Majesty isn’t just any Unicorn.”

“That’s right — she’s the deadliest Pony who ever lived!”

Pinch’s words from the doorway drew the group’s attention. Sweetie and Spike stood by her sides, and Zecora brought up the rear.

Bloom gasped. “Girls! Spike! Yer awright!”

“They went as far as Everfree,” Zecora said, “just so they could come and get me.”

The painted Twilight glanced at the new arrivals. “Zecora! It’s great to see you! I was just telling the little ones, here, about the confusion over Queen Majesty. I’m sure she’ll come to her senses any moment and undo this spell. How long has it been, anyway? A few minutes? An hour?”

Pip fidgeted. “Er, actually it’s closer to a couple of DAYS, Miss Princess Twilight, Ma’am.”

Twilight stared wide-eyed. “Wh-What…? That’s impossible! Queen Majesty wouldn’t just LEAVE us in here! She’s Ponykind’s most beloved pre-classical ruler!”

“Why hadn’t any of us heard of her, then?” Bloom asked with a tilt of her head.

Pinch shrugged. “Ancient history class isn’t until next year. I know, ‘cause I was looking forward to learning about the Dragon Wars.” Her expression darkened. “But we did some research on our own time. We know the REAL truth.” She took out the Griffon history tome and held it up. “If she’s the ancient Pony in this book, she’s a super-evil witch-queen.”

“She’s a killer! A monster!” Sweetie agreed. “Prey-That-Hunts! Pale Death! Blue Flowers Five!”

Twilight frowned. “Did you get that from my library? Oh, girls… history books can be REALLY biased. You should SEE the way they talk about Princess Celestia in there!”

Sweetie stepped closer to the easel. “But… she’s keeping all of you grown-ups locked away! She won’t listen when we try to explain things — she just sings to trip it all up! And… and she turned Gabby Griffon to STONE!”

Sunny and Peachy hugged in terror and let out paired squeals of worry.

Twilight drew back, shrinking on the white poster-paper. “That’s … terrible!” She fixed her stance. “I have to get to the bottom of this. I need to talk to the Queen right away!"

“Are you sure that choice is wise?” Zecora asked with a glance at the old book. “It’s said whomever scorns her, dies.”

Twilight sighed. The paper rippled from her breath. “She’s from another time, another age. Life was … harder, then. Now that I think about it, I guess it makes sense she’d be more, ah, harsh. But Ponykind only EXISTS today because of her. She was saving the world before Celestia and Luna were even BORN. If we can get the chance to explain things, I’m sure she’ll understand!”

“I hope you’re right, Princess,” Pinch said as she slowly crept toward the plate of cookies.

Toola swatted Pinch’s reaching hoof with a paintbrush. “Don’t even THINK about it.”

“I hope so, too,” Sweetie said anxiously, “If this doesn’t work, we’re out of options.”

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

“... He had been mocked for his ugliness, and now he heard them say he was the most beautiful of all the birds. The trees bent to the water to see him, and even the sun seemed to shine brighter on him. He rustled his feathers, curved his slender neck, and cried joyfully, from the depths of his heart, ‘I never dreamed of such happiness as this, while I was an ugly duckling!’” The Dink swallowed down a slight lump in her throat. “Uh… the end.”

The gathered infants had been spellbound all the while, but instead of applause the room was filled with the sounds of happy suckling. All the hungry infants had bottles, and the rest sat happily or chewed on various teething toys.

Scootaloo heaved a wearied sigh. “Nice work, Dink. It was touch-and-go for a while, there.”

“Yeah. It was a close one, for sure.” She carefully, quietly stepped among the pacified babies, checking for signs of fresh rebellion or un-fresh diapers. “Round two is coming soon, though. And it’s gonna be even worse.”

“We’ll figure something out,” Scootaloo replied. “I know we don’t hang out all that often, but you’re pretty cool, you know that, Dink? You really take after your mom.”

The Dink stared blankly. “What.”

“Uh, your mom?” Scootaloo repeated. “You know, the record-breaking flyer and combat veteran with all the medals?”

“Okay, pretty sure you’re mixing me up with somepony else, now. My mom is Derpy. Hooves.” She said the name slowly and clearly. “The delivery mare who likes baking stuff and knitting me kinda-embarrassing scarves? Like, don’t get me wrong, my mom is awesome. But cool…?”

“Yeah, Dink. Derpy. Hooves.” Scootaloo said it just as clearly. “She used to be a junior racer when she was our age. She won like, ALL the trophies, before her eyes, uh… y-you know.” Scootaloo cleared her throat. “It took Rainbow Dash a whole extra YEAR to catch up and break her records. And later, Derpy volunteered to join the Wonderbolts to fight that huge demon monster guy, Tirek. Oh, and she saved Princess Twilight’s life when the Storm King invaded Canterlot.”

The chorus of suckling seemed to echo in the nursery. The walls loomed skyward. The Dink sat down heavily. “My mom …?” A frown pulled her from the fugue. “Wait, how do you know all this stuff?”

“Uh, I’m kind of a huge Rainbow Dash fan,” Scootaloo said with a soft blush. “I’ve looked up everything about her, from her races as a filly to all kinds of Wonderbolts stuff. Your mom kept popping up again and again. And Apple Bloom and Sweetie and I were in Canterlot when that invasion went down.” She tilted her head. “Didn’t YOU know about it?”

The Dink blushed, now. “Uh, w-well, YEAH, of course…!” She forced a chuckle. “I just don’t like to make a big deal about it. Don’t want the other foals to get jealous, right?” She chuckled again, and then rubbed a front leg with the other foreleg while glancing away. Her eyes locked onto one of the teethers. “Hay. Wait a second…”

She picked up an unattended toy, and deftly swapped it for the baby’s chosen item like a tomb-exploring heroine trading a golden idol for a bag of sand. The baby seemed none the wiser.

“What’s up?” Scootaloo asked. She trotted closer.

The Dink held up her prize. “Look familiar?” It was yet another of the stony grey puzzle-pieces. "This is the third one of these things I've found."

“All right, that’s weird.” The Pegasus followed The Dink over to a baby-sized table covered in messy hoof-paintings. “What now?”

“Hold on...” The Dink laid out the pieces she’d found so far, and started seeing if anything fit. After a few adjustments, she got lucky. “...Score!”

The three jigsaw shapes locked together almost seamlessly, forming a rough triangle. With more surface area, the fillies could make out some rough detail on the smooth grey. A faint darker curve. Subtle shade that suggested a domed almond shape.

Scootaloo squinted. “You know, that kinda looks like-”

Suddenly, a wide yellow eye with a crimson iris snapped open on the stone, and blinked several times.

“Waugh…!” Scootaloo leaped back, covered her mouth with her front hooves, and awkwardly teetered and tottered in an effort to avoid stepping on any babies.

The Dink looked down at the eerie discovery and slowly cracked a wide smile. “What now? I’ll tell you what now. Two words, Scoots: Scavenger. Hunt.”

TO BE CONTINUED