Author's Note
TTwilight Sparkle Was Shot
The Mane Seven have united their powers before, and over time their friendship has become stronger than ever. But only now, as graduation looms, do they unite for revenge.
Coyote de La Mancha ·
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Amicus
Come quick, the text message read. No punctuation, no additional information, nothing else. I sighed and muttered, “Gods and little fishes, what have they dug up now?” In return I tapped out, Where?
The answer chilled me to the marrow.
She’ll live. Over and over I repeated it to myself. It’s hard to retain the appropriate metaphorical distance when one has come to care so deeply about the seven bright, charming teens one was sent to keep an eye on. Six of them already had left; the remaining one lay on the hospital bed before me. Only Twilight Sparkle’s family, by special dispensation including her talking dog Spike, also stood or sat in the room keeping vigil. Finally my tight lips loosened enough to ask, “Where did they go?”
“Sunset’s place, for a sleep-over, I think,” Twilight replied before anyone else could. “They were pretty upset.”
“No. You think?” I just couldn’t help myself. I’ve been told I have a terrible sense of humor.
Her laughter, weak and coughing as it was, warmed my cold bones.
“You what?” Turbulent emotions flooded through me. For once I was speechless, a rare state of affairs in a professional diplomat. On the other hand, I defy anyone to have a ready response to the news one’s charges hared off on a mission of vengeance and very nearly murdered another young woman.
On the other other hand, who that young woman was posed a huge, uncomfortably spiky problem in its own right. Finally I managed, “I searched for your counterpart, Sunset. I looked hard.”
“She kept herself under the radar, Cook,” Sunset said, shame and bruises clear on her face. “She worked even harder at that. And I’ll bet you couldn’t get into the foster system’s records.”
I blew out a breath. “Not deeply enough, apparently. I did check, but when I didn’t turn up anything immediately, I figured that was enough. It looks like I was wrong.” I was upset enough to let slip a curse, one of the very few I had uttered in front of the girls. Just because some of them occasionally swore like sailors didn’t mean I had to.
“It ain’t yer fault,” Applejack assured me stoutly. “The way ya talked about investigatin’ us, you were tryin’ ta juggle plates while runnin’ across a tightrope. So somethin’ slipped through the cracks.” She shrugged, blithely ignoring the mixed metaphors. “Ain’t nobody perfect, Cook.”
“Yes, but—if I’d found her, we could’ve avoided all this mess. I could’ve done something for her.”
Rainbow Dash made an exasperated noise. “Don’t beat yourself up over it. None of us thought about it either, right?”
For a moment I rubbed my face with both hands. “Fine, set that aside. But there is that little matter of attempted homicide. Two of them, actually, though we might be able to tap-dance fast enough to make yours disappear, even in my reports.” I pointed a stiff finger at the Sunset in front of me. “Still, it’s only a matter of time, and probably not much of it, before CCPD shows up. A revolver shooting in the middle of a mall food court isn’t exactly unobtrusive. We need to get ahead of this.”
The six of them exchanged glances before turning back to me. “We’re listening,” ventured Rarity cautiously.
“All right. That offer you told me you’ll make, Sunset. You said Princess Twilight already signed off on it, right?”
Sunset nodded, and I continued, “Good. In that case, could you ask her a favor? I can’t; it would be an obvious conflict of interest. But if she’s willing, it could be a big help—maybe decisive.”
I swallowed my mouthful of rice and lemon chicken. “So all’s well that ends well?”
Sunset nodded hard. “Yeah. It took her a while to work through everything, but once she did, she jumped right on in. I gotta admit I was kinda surprised. I expected t’have to talk her through deciding whether to stay or go.”
“Whew,” I breathed. “Okay. That’s the first hurdle. You got the court date?”
“Right here.” She held up her phone, a calendar view displayed on the screen.
“And she’ll be there for it?” I pressed.
“Princess Twi said she promised to be.” Sunset looked less certain. “I just hope this all works out. There’s still a lotta room for things to go wrong.”
“Don’t worry,” I said confidently, covering my own trepidation. “Look, we all have to do this. If we don’t, she becomes a fugitive, and your life gets really complicated.” To her expression of discomfort I added, “We have a wild but true tale to tell, a ream of documentation and testimonial letters, a formal request from a friendly nation, and me to present it all. What else do we need?”
Her mouth pursed but finally relaxed in a small grin. “Don’t ever change, Cook.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” I stood, heels together, in my best three-piece suit, expensively made and expensively tailored. “I’m present in the capacity of amicus curiae, as my superiors and I have an interest in this matter and a possible resolution to propose.”
“And what interest might that be?” The judge gave me a patently skeptical look, no doubt honed by years of presiding over fractious courtrooms. The rest of the court’s occupants eyed me with varying degrees of puzzlement, annoyance, or hope.
“That requires considerable explanation—and discretion, as it touches on classified matters. I crave the indulgence of the court and a conference in chambers.”
His Honor sat back in his high button-tufted chair. “This just gets better and better.”
“With all due respect, Your Honor doesn’t know the half of it,” I told him wryly.
A seat-rocking pause of consideration culminated in a sharp nod. “Very well. But if you don’t have a very, very good reason, Mister Cookie Pusher, I’ll hold you in contempt.”
“I understand, Your Honor.” I took a deep breath. “I can assure you, however good you need it to be, it will surpass that expectation.”
